Chapter 17

The command from True Monarch Feiyue was to organize and clean the ancient library. Two young men dressed in ethereal white robes fetched water in buckets, found brooms and cloths, with one in charge of organizing and the other of cleaning.

Helan Xi initially wanted to take on the cleaning himself, as he couldn’t imagine a cold beauty like Song Xuanji sweeping the floor. But before he could say anything, Song Xuanji had already picked up a broom.

Thus, Helan Xi was fortunate enough to witness a scene he couldn’t have imagined.

Standing on a ladder, Helan Xi absentmindedly organized the ancient books, frequently glancing down.

From his angle, he couldn’t see Song Xuanji’s expression. He could only see Song Xuanji with his head down, the gold hairpin in his hair gently swaying with his sweeping motions. It seemed to have swayed into his heart, making him itch to hold that dazzling hairpin in his hand.

Helan Xi shook his head secretly, forcing himself to withdraw his gaze from Song Xuanji and focus on the ancient books he needed to organize.

He pulled out a worn and heavy ancient book. The cover had long since faded, but under the dim candlelight, he could just make out the title: “The Twelve Books of Taihua.”

It turned out to be a book about the Taihua Sect. Intrigued, Helan Xi opened to the first page’s table of contents, which listed the names of the twelve institutes of the Taihua Sect. As expected, the Ruthless Institute was listed first.

Satisfied, Helan Xi casually flipped to the middle of the book, finding a lengthy section about the Only Me Institute. Finally, he turned to the second-to-last page, which read: “The Thirteenth of the Twelve Books of Taihua.”

Thirteen? Does it refer to the thirteenth institute of the Taihua Sect?

But since its founding, the Taihua Sect had always had only twelve institutes. Where did the thirteenth institute come from?

Helan Xi, full of doubts, turned to the next page. Upon seeing its contents, his eyes widened in shock.

On the last page of “The Twelve Books of Taihua,” a vividly red, exquisitely beautiful Manjusaka flower appeared—the same as the one on Zhu Ruo Shuang’s back.

Helan Xi was too stunned to maintain the calm and composure a Ruthless Taoist should have. As he descended the ladder, he thought of calling Song Xuanji over. But before he could say “Song Xuanji, come here,” he suddenly stepped into thin air.

A sharp pain shot through his ankle, and Helan Xi held back his tears.

Indeed, in the Taihua Sect, failing to uphold the spirit of the Ruthless Tao leads to misfortune. Had he remained calm and composed, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

The sound of the young man’s clumsy fall was as loud as an earthquake in the silent ancient library. Song Xuanji quickly arrived, so fast that Helan Xi didn’t have time to compose himself.

Leaning against the bookshelf, Helan Xi appeared calm but had a hint of surprise and panic in his eyes. Song Xuanji asked, “What happened?”

Enduring the pain of his sprained ankle, Helan Xi thought to himself: This guy walks so slowly during the day, but now he’s unbelievably fast, not even putting down the broom in his hand.

Taihua Sect disciples learn basic healing techniques upon entry to handle minor injuries. A sprain from a misstep was a minor issue, but True Monarch Feiyue’s bell still hung at the door.

At home, in a similar situation, Helan Xi would shout, “Mom, Mom! I sprained my ankle, it hurts, save me!” So in front of Song Xuanji, he also wanted to say, “Song Xuanji, I sprained my ankle, it hurts!”—but could he?

Fortunately, he just needed to endure a little longer, and everything would be fine once they left the library.

“Song Xuanji, look.” Ignoring his sprain, Helan Xi handed the last page of “The Twelve Books of Taihua” to Song Xuanji. “The Manjusaka mark.”

Song Xuanji carefully examined the flower, his already expressionless face growing colder.

Helan Xi, unable to put weight on his sprained ankle, shifted his weight to his other foot and asked, “Does the Taihua Sect have a thirteenth institute?”

Song Xuanji shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

The publication date of “The Twelve Books of Taihua” was uncertain, but as an ancient book in the library, it must have some history.

The cover clearly stated “Twelve Books,” which likely meant there were only twelve institutes when it was written, with the thirteenth added later.

Song Xuanji realized this too. “Light.”

Without moving his lower body, Helan Xi reached out and fetched a candle from the shelf. The two of them leaned in close, their foreheads nearly touching, and under the candlelight, they repeatedly compared the ink’s shape and shade, confirming their earlier assumption.

The so-called thirteenth institute of the Taihua Sect was indeed added later.

Who was this person? What was the thirteenth institute? What was the connection between Zhu Ruo Shuang’s Manjusaka mark and the thirteenth institute?

With no more clues, Helan Xi couldn’t piece it together.

The Taihua Sect, the foremost immortal sect of the Three Realms, was a behemoth with nearly ten thousand years of history, filled with countless secrets hidden and forgotten. Even within the Ruthless Institute, there were many forbidden areas he had never explored.

If anyone knew the most secrets about the Taihua Sect, it would undoubtedly be the heads of the four major institutes.

Helan Xi suggested, “We should inform True Monarch Feiyue and True Monarch Yie.”

Song Xuanji looked up from the ancient book, his gaze close and piercing. “True Monarch Feiyue already knew about the Manjusaka mark. Did he reveal anything to us?”

Helan Xi was momentarily stunned. “No.”

Indeed, he, Song Xuanji, and True Monarch Feiyue had all seen the Manjusaka mark on Zhu Ruo Shuang. If True Monarch Feiyue knew something, he wouldn’t have told them then, and asking now wouldn’t yield any answers either.

Of course, there’s another possibility: Venerable Scarlet Moon, like them, doesn’t know the exact origin and meaning of the Netherworld Seal.

Helan Xi then asked, “What about Venerable Yi’e? Should we inform him?”

Song Xuanji responded, “Who do you think has the ability to create the thirteenth Daoist Academy in the Taihua Sect and then secretly hide it?”

Helan Xi instinctively replied, “This person must have considerable skills, possibly one of the heads of the academies…”

Before he could finish his sentence, a chill ran down Helan Xi’s spine, and he shivered involuntarily.

No way? It can’t be, right?! He had always greatly respected the heads of the academies!

Helan Xi, despite his alarm, had to admire Song Xuanji’s thorough consideration. If it weren’t for him being by his side, Helan Xi’s first reaction would definitely have been to inform their teacher. “What do you think we should do?” he asked.

Song Xuanji replied, “We’ll discuss it when we return.”

Alright, I’ll listen to you. Smart and beautiful, Song Xuanji, it’s truly our Emotionless Academy’s fortune to have you.

Helan Xi nodded, “Okay.”

Song Xuanji turned and left with a broom in hand, and just as Helan Xi was about to follow, his expression suddenly changed.

Earlier, Helan Xi had been in a state of intense concentration, causing him to forget about the sprain in his ankle. Now that he relaxed a bit and stepped forward too forcefully, an unbearable pain shot through him.

Helan Xi’s face turned pale, cold sweat forming on his forehead from the pain. Walking with Song Xuanji was now impossible; he had to support himself on a nearby bookshelf, hoping the pain would quickly subside.

But Song Xuanji seemed to notice something was wrong, turned back, and said, “You…”

Before he finished speaking, Song Xuanji’s gaze fell on Helan Xi’s unnaturally bent ankle, then glanced at the misstepped ladder, understanding everything.

The surroundings were pitch dark, except for the small lit area they occupied. In the flickering candlelight, Helan Xi looked somewhat helplessly at Song Xuanji’s face.

Upon discovering his injury, Song Xuanji’s expression didn’t change; it remained calm and unreadable. His long, feather-like eyelashes cast shadows as the candlelight danced in his eyes, capturing all the light.

But Helan Xi’s ankle hurt too much, the pain quickening his heartbeat slightly. He had no mind to appreciate Song Xuanji’s beauty illuminated by the candlelight.

By nature, if he were in this much pain, he’d surely be whining a bit. Unfortunately, he was a disciple of the Emotionless Academy and had serious matters to attend to. Under Song Xuanji’s calm gaze, he too spoke calmly, “Just a minor sprain.”

Song Xuanji, like him earlier, could have responded with a simple “Hmm,” but instead, he added a few more words: “Hmm, I noticed.”

After saying that, he suddenly leaned down towards Helan Xi.

The sudden closeness of such beauty startled Helan Xi, “What are you doing?”

Song Xuanji’s reaction puzzled him, “Casting a healing spell.”

Helan Xi glanced towards the door, reminding Song Xuanji, “Venerable Scarlet Moon will find out.”

Song Xuanji replied indifferently, “Does it matter?”

Does it? I’ve noticed you don’t usually like breaking sect rules.

Helan Xi earnestly said, “Didn’t you say we shouldn’t alert Venerable Scarlet Moon about the thirteenth Daoist Academy?”

Song Xuanji pondered briefly and then turned away again.

This action left Helan Xi confused—if he couldn’t cast a healing spell, he could at least help him out. Silly.

Helan Xi stayed put, planning to hop out on one foot once Song Xuanji was far enough away. Unexpectedly, Song Xuanji returned after a short while, standing before him again.

Before Helan Xi could figure out Song Xuanji’s intention, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. The next moment, he was lifted off his feet—Song Xuanji carried him horizontally.

Helan Xi: “!!!”

Being carried for the first time by a fellow disciple, Helan Xi tried hard to maintain a composed and nonchalant demeanor. In reality, his mind was racing with countless thoughts.

He first noticed the cool, damp feeling of Song Xuanji’s fingertips, wondering if he had washed his hands. Actually, it wasn’t necessary; his uniform was already dusty from the library.

Then, he smelled the faint, cool fragrance lingering in the air, relieved he had bathed beforehand.

Finally, he remembered his bath fragrance wasn’t the same; the scent he smelled must be from Song Xuanji.

Hmm? Did Song Xuanji also bathe before coming to the ancient library after feeding the little sand python in the Beast Study class?

Despite all this, he didn’t forget their main task.

“Wait, Song Xuan.” Helan Xi clutched Song Xuanji’s neck, trying to stay calm. “We haven’t taken the book yet.”

Song Xuanji glanced at the “Twelve Books of Taihua” on the shelf and said, “Hold on tight.”

Helan Xi, with all the previous misunderstandings, thought he misheard again: “…What?”

Did Song Xuanji say “hold on tight”? Not “mirror” or “gold”?

—Hold on tight? Hold on to what?

But Song Xuanji seemed to understand his confusion, “Me.”

Helan Xi thought for a moment and obediently tightened his grip around Song Xuanji, both hands holding on. This way, Song Xuanji could free one hand to get the book.

So, Song Xuanji held him with one hand and took the “Twelve Books of Taihua” with the other.

After a while of being held, Helan Xi suddenly said, “Song Xuan.”

Song Xuanji: “Hmm?”

Helan Xi: “Do you not mind learning dual cultivation techniques?”

Song Xuanji: “Hmm.”

Helan Xi stared at the golden tassels on Song Xuanji’s hairpin and asked, “Why?”

Song Xuanji looked down at him, “It can save lives.”

With that, Song Xuanji, holding both him and the book, walked out of the ancient library.