Si Fanqing sighed softly, walked slowly towards the bed, and was about to bend down to extinguish the wick.

Under the hazy light, his fair and clear face showed a thin layer of blush. His long eyelashes trembled slightly, like a feather lightly brushing against Cong Yue’s heart, causing ripples.

She blinked, and impulsively extended a finger, curling it, seemingly unintentionally brushing against her junior uncle’s earlobe, which was so red it was almost bleeding.

With a clear “slap,” Si Fanqing raised his hand and slapped her, hitting Cong Yue’s mischievous hand squarely.

Having just recovered from a serious injury, she was already delirious and not quite clear-headed. Suddenly slapped on the back of her hand, Cong Yue’s head felt dizzy, stars appeared before her eyes, and her face was full of grievance, “Junior Uncle, why did you hit me?”

Si Fanqing frowned slightly and scolded softly, “You’re incorrigible.”

Cong Yue widened her dark, bright eyes and stared at him, taking a long time to understand the meaning of her junior uncle’s words.

She had once been audacious and, under some unknown influence, had touched his fair and delicate shoulders while he was bathing. Her junior uncle had been furious and had slapped her without hesitation.

Various emotions flooded her brain, causing her to be sleepless all night, lost in thought. It was all because her junior uncle was so attractive, with fair and delicate shoulders and back, and a seductive figure that made people fantasize.

“I didn’t, I didn’t…” Cong Yue opened her mouth slightly, her face showing a complex expression, unable to utter a word of defense.

Her junior uncle had undergone a miraculous change today, completely different from usual. Curiosity prompted Cong Yue to reach out and touch him, to explore him, to see him anxious, embarrassed, helpless, and disheveled…

It wasn’t that she was incorrigible.

Si Fanqing ignored her, directly extinguishing the wick and turning to leave the room.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly felt a cool breeze from the side, and there was movement outside the window.  He paused, silently moving to the side of the bed, simultaneously signaling Cong Yue to be quiet.

The tightly closed window was pushed open a crack from the outside, and moonlight spilled into the room, but no one was visible, only a scarred ear climbing onto the window frame, crawling down the wall, its rustling sound like a snake slithering around.

It was a human ear, cut and sewn together tightly, the uneven stitches on the ear were clearly visible, yet it moved freely as if alive.

The bizarre sight made one’s hair stand on end.

The two held their breath, watching quietly. The ear crept along the wall, circling the room without further action, its intentions unclear, it seemed to be a non-aggressive artifact.

Si Fanqing casually picked up a teacup about the size of a fist, darted forward to catch the clumsy eavesdropper, and covered the ear entirely in the cup.

Suddenly losing its mobility, the uninvited guest struggled violently under the cup. Si Fanqing infused the teacup with spiritual energy, and the ear, unable to struggle, gave up.

“Junior Uncle…” Cong Yue groped her way down from the bed, standing behind him.  Seeing the ear in the teacup, she was startled, “What is the origin of this ear?”

“It should be used for eavesdropping,” Si Fanqing put away the teacup; the ear lay still inside, already weak and dying.

He suddenly turned to look at Cong Yue, patiently instructing her, “Rest well, I’ll go find Master Chu to discuss this matter.”

Cong Yue simply shook her head, taking a few steps closer to him, insisting, “Junior Uncle, I’ll go with you.”

Si Fanqing unusually didn’t refuse, he helped her put on her robe and went out with a lamp.

“This is a ‘窃风耳’ (Qiefeng’er – literally ‘stealing wind ear’), a demonic artifact.” Chu Tianlan was indeed knowledgeable, and at a glance, he recognized the artifact that had visited Qingyun Sect at night.

Si Fanqing carefully examined the ear in the teacup, thoughtful, “A demonic artifact?”

“Exactly,” Chu Tianlan confirmed. “Without the help of a sect disciple, with only this artifact’s abilities, it wouldn’t have been able to get close to the gates of Qingyun Sect.”

Hearing this, Cong Yue was shocked, “Master Chu, do you mean…there’s a traitor in the sect?”

Chu Tianlan stroked his white beard, couldn’t help but laugh, and immediately denied, “Not so.”

Cong Yue didn’t quite understand what Master Chu meant, she secretly glanced at her junior uncle and continued to ask, “Could it be that they were used unknowingly by someone with ulterior motives?”

“Miss Cong Yue, don’t worry, I will make a decision on this matter and give the various sects an explanation.”

Si Fanqing tapped the rim of the cup with his knuckles, and said in a deep voice, “In that case, the Death Worm must be related to the Demon Clan.”

Her wound was itchy and painful, Cong Yue couldn’t help but pull at her robe, only then realizing that her inner garment was soaked with blood, the soft fabric sticking tightly to the wound, causing her to gasp in pain.  As she looked up, she met her junior uncle’s gaze.

Thinking that he was going to scold her again for being inattentive, Cong Yue quickly straightened her back and continued, “I heard that the Demon Clan has always been arrogant and domineering, but this time they’re being secretive, it doesn’t seem like the Demon Clan’s style.”

Chu Tianlan clearly disagreed with her statement, looking at her meaningfully, “Miss Cong Yue, do you still remember that the Demon Clan underwent a change of power some time ago?”

The implication was that when the old Demon Lord was in power, the Demon Clan used to act arrogantly and rarely used intrigue. Now, the new Demon Lord had only been in power for a few months, and no one knew what his style was like.

Compared to the old Demon Lord, Ling Xingze, the new Demon Lord, Ling Anxin, was more thoughtful and insidious.

First, he attached the soul of the Death Worm to ordinary demonic beasts, pretending to escape from the Demon Clan.  Coincidentally, they were caught by Qingyun Sect disciples, put into the hunting grounds for the sect disciples to hunt.

On the day of the hunt, the demonic beasts were killed by He Yan and his group, then disappeared, and the Death Worm appeared.

Then the Demon Clan released the Qiefeng’er to monitor the movements of the various sects and obtain information in a timely manner.

However, the Qiefeng’er was incompetent. It barely managed to sneak into Qingyun Sect’s territory, but it fell into Si Fanqing’s hands.

Cong Yue still had doubts and asked, “What is the Demon Lord’s purpose for going to such great lengths?”

Si Fanqing seemed to have already figured out the whole story and patiently explained to her, “Ancient demonic beasts feed on the souls of living beings, and the Demon Lord uses the Death Worm to enhance his spiritual power.”

In other words, the Demon Lord absorbs the souls of living beings to enhance his own spiritual power.

Hearing this was like a bolt from the blue. Cong Yue froze in place, silent for a long time. She had never heard anyone mention that the Demon Clan cultivates by absorbing the souls of living people to enhance their spiritual power.

It was true, as her master had said, her mother had protected her very well, unwilling to let her be tainted by the slightest bit of filth.

“Sir Si, please leave. I will handle the matter of the Qiefeng’er entering Qingyun Sect.”

Si Fanqing bowed to Chu Tianlan and turned to take Cong Yue back to the room. Seeing her absent-minded look, he gently reminded her, “What are you spacing out for? Go back to the room and rest.”

Cong Yue nodded numbly and followed Si Fanqing out. As soon as they entered the room, Si Fanqing anxiously asked her, “Does your wound hurt?” He had seen Cong Yue constantly pulling at her robe, so the wound must be infected and painful.

Cong Yue was already preoccupied, and now she just wanted some quiet time to sort out her chaotic thoughts. She walked directly towards the bed and replied perfunctorily, “Junior Uncle, I’m fine. You go back to your room and rest.”

Late at night, even though Si Fanqing was worried about her injury, he didn’t stay in Cong Yue’s room for long. After giving a few instructions, he extinguished the lamp and left.

The next morning, Chu Tianlan told everyone about the reason for the Qiefeng’er’s appearance in Qingyun Sect without reservation.  It turned out that one of his direct disciples had picked up an earring-shaped artifact outside the mountain gate, which was very exquisite.

Who would have thought that it was an artifact deliberately sent to Qingyun Sect by the Demon Clan for eavesdropping.

The person involved was still recovering from his injuries, and no one insisted on pursuing the matter. Chu Tianlan said that he would take the disciple to apologize later, and the matter would be dropped.

Because of the incident, Si Fanqing had to bring forward his schedule and took Cong Yue back to Jingyue Sect that day.

On the way, Cong Yue was drowsy, increasingly thirsty, and her wound ached intensely, as if a scorpion had burrowed into her flesh. Her fair and clear face was burning red.

Si Fanqing touched her forehead, Cong Yue felt as if she were being roasted over a fire, her forehead was alarmingly hot, and her wound was indeed infected.  Traveling while sick was not feasible, so Si Fanqing held her in his arms and found an inn to stay.

After much hesitation, he steeled his heart and carefully untied Cong Yue’s robe, pulling down her inner garment little by little. The white gauze wrapped around the wound was soaked with blood, sinking deeply into the flesh.

He tore open the gauze, the wound was shocking, the edges were red and swollen, oozing a cloudy liquid. Si Fanqing cleaned the wound, gently wiped it with clean gauze, and it was probably the nth time he had applied medicine and bandaged Cong Yue.

Worried about letting Wen Ai handle her wound, Si Fanqing couldn’t help but feel anxious, wanting to get back to Jingyue Sect as soon as possible.  Under the current circumstances, he could only anxiously wait.

Cong Yue’s brows were tightly furrowed, her expression showing extreme discomfort. She murmured softly, and Si Fanqing leaned closer to hear her say “thirsty.”

He held her up to sit, her back against his chest, and brought a cup of water to Cong Yue’s lips.

“Cong Yue, open your mouth.” Hearing someone calling her, Cong Yue blinked, her eyes opening a slit. Before she could see the cup in front of her, she closed her eyes tightly again and fell asleep.

Si Fanqing took a tuft of cotton from the medicine box, moistened it with tea water, and gently wiped Cong Yue’s dry, chapped lips.  He was still worried, so he took a hot towel and wiped the sweat from her face and palms.

After a lot of fuss, Si Fanqing was already sweating profusely. Seeing Cong Yue’s breathing gradually becoming even, Si Fanqing secretly breathed a sigh of relief, washed up, and sat by the bed, drowsy.

“Hot…”

Si Fanqing suddenly woke up, hearing Cong Yue muttering something incessantly. He quickly stood up, reaching out to touch her face. It wasn’t as hot as before, her temperature had finally gone down.