The Immortal Monarch’s Confession and a Familiar Face

Yuan Zhigong, of course, had no intention of cornering He Suosi. Assuming the person before him was an imposter who couldn’t possibly answer his test questions about the past, he simply supplied the answers himself.

“You claimed your family was going to seize you and make you a cultivation cauldron for Daoist Lianzhen.”

—To think! Pei Nishang had even managed to deceive Yuan Zhigong!

He Suosi was instantly filled with admiration for the real Pei Nishang. This was a true marriage scam, executed with a do-or-die resolve.

“Later, I discovered you had lied to me,” Yuan Zhigong confirmed, “but by then, you claimed our engagement was settled, and leaving would only ruin your reputation. So, I had no choice but to let you stay.”

He continued, “As for the others, I never knew when the inner residence became so crowded. Sometimes I’d enter seclusion for decades, only to emerge and be told about new women in the back, yet I didn’t know any of them. I had no idea why they came—were they forced, or did they come willingly? I was truly ignorant of it all.”

“In the entire inner residence, I truly only recognized you.”

He Suosi was almost moved by Yuan Zhigong, seeing him as a pitiful soul inexplicably burdened with a massive harem. Yet, a glaring flaw in the narrative struck him.

“But you were always so kind to Yu Anlin.”

Yuan Zhigong’s expression immediately turned peculiar. After a brief pause, he finally spoke. “I mistook her for someone else.”

“Eh?”

“I mistook Yu Jiaren for another person.”

He Suosi suddenly recalled that Yuan Zhigong had an unrequited true love. Now, bolstered by the knowledge that Pei Nishang was supposedly that true love, he could no longer suppress his burning curiosity.

“Who was that person?” he pressed.

Yuan Zhigong stared fixedly at him.

He Suosi met his gaze in confusion for a long moment before slowly raising a hand and pointing a finger at himself. “…Me?”

Yuan Zhigong nodded.

‘Are you kidding me?!’ He Suosi desperately wanted to shout, but he held back. A subtle sense of unease began to creep into his heart.

He rephrased his question. “Immortal Monarch, are you perhaps jesting with me?”

Yuan Zhigong replied, “I will show you that I am not.”

The handsome man, with his striking presence, gazed at him with dark, profound eyes. In the dim light, those eyes seemed to ignite with golden sparks. He sat poised on the chair, his entire being deep and solemn, his aura as cold as ice, yet his eyes burned with a fervent heat that seemed to entwine and consume the beholder’s heart.

He Suosi unconsciously felt his throat go dry. The weight of this confession suddenly bore down heavily upon him. He immediately reasoned that this heaviness was appropriate—these words were not meant for him, but for Pei Nishang. He had usurped Pei Nishang’s most cherished desire by taking her body, and this burden was perhaps a manifestation of his guilt.

Or perhaps it was Yuan Zhigong’s overwhelming beauty and earnest words that made him empathize. He averted his gaze from Yuan Zhigong’s dark eyes, unsure what to say.

After a brief silence, He Suosi realized his reaction had been inappropriate, creating an awkward atmosphere. He wanted to say something, but though he usually considered himself eloquent, he was truly speechless. After stammering for a while, Yuan Zhigong broke the uncomfortable silence by offering him a pastry from a nearby table.

The pastry carried a faint hint of mint. It melted instantly in his mouth like ice cream on the tongue, leaving He Suosi stunned.

—This pastry was astonishingly delicious.

Yuan Zhigong’s voice beside him was warm. “I specifically asked the kitchen to make it. I know you’ve always enjoyed sweet, soft things.”

He Suosi wanted to deny such a “girly” preference, but he was quickly lost in the food’s exquisite taste. He decided it wasn’t a big deal—it must be Pei Nishang’s bodily influence making him crave it, after all.

He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on the plate of pastries until he heard Yuan Zhigong let out a soft chuckle.

“You still like these, it seems.”

He Suosi huffed arrogantly in his mind: ‘Pei Nishang liked these, not me! How could a straight man like me enjoy desserts?’

Thus, He Suosi firmly resisted the urge to eat another piece. He drank some tea, rinsed his mouth, and then quietly said, “Immortal Monarch, I am going to sleep.”

He felt Yuan Zhigong’s gaze still lingering on his face. He pulled the brocade quilt over his head.

The sweet, faint scent of perfume permeated the covers, likely due to Lan Jun changing the freshly scented bedding every day. Perhaps it was the profound quiet, the warmth of the quilt, or the sheer exhaustion from dealing with the inner residence, but He Suosi fell asleep without noticing whether Yuan Zhigong had left.

When he awoke the next day, Yuan Zhigong was indeed gone. Though He Suosi didn’t know when he had left, it seemed the Monarch had maintained his streak of never spending the night in his concubines’ rooms.

Upon rising, he spread the news of his recovery, awaiting those who would surely be unable to sit still.

Before they could arrive, He Suosi sought out Luo Guanjing for another chat in his soul space. He finally had someone to talk to, and his happiness index had truly risen by several percentage points.

Luo Guanjing had been trying to conjure things in He Suosi’s spiritual space to alleviate boredom, but his own spiritual power was currently too weak, and He Suosi’s was too strong. Anything he materialized vanished in less than a breath, making his efforts futile.

Seeing He Suosi enter again, he immediately bristled. “He Suosi, you can’t keep me confined! I want to share your five senses, or you must release me!”

He was a strikingly beautiful youth, and now, in his anger, his eyes reddened, his face flushed like a peach blossom, and his gaze was captivating. He Suosi watched him for a few moments, then couldn’t help but remark, “Little Jing, I’m realizing for the first time that you’re quite handsome. Are you secretly a woman?”

Luo Guanjing’s face instantly turned scarlet—from pure fury. Knowing he was no match for He Suosi at the moment, he glared at him with a beet-red face for a long time before finally spitting out, “You just wait!”

These words were precisely what He Suosi always imagined Yuan Zhigong saying to him.

After their friendly exchange, He Suosi conjured a table and two chairs in the soul space. They sat down, and He Suosi brought up the real matter at hand.

“Speaking of which, I’ve wanted to ask this for a while: that person in the residence, Chang Hui… she’s your disciple, isn’t she? I saw her use that golden thread technique. It’s definitely one of yours. That move is so lewd; once you see it, you can never forget it.”

Luo Guanjing slammed the table, rising in anger. “Lewd?! You’re just seeing lewdness because you’re lewd yourself!”

He Suosi adopted an expression of helplessness. “Alright, alright, not lewd. But in any case, she’s your disciple, right?”

Luo Guanjing was astonished by He Suosi’s ability to provoke and puzzled by why he always fell for it. He shot He Suosi a sideways glance, grumbling, “Yes.”

He Suosi’s expression immediately became intrigued. “Haven’t I met all your disciples? Or is she a new one you’ve taken?”

Luo Guanjing’s expression turned strange. He looked He Suosi up and down meticulously for several moments before saying, “Oh, you might not remember him.”

He Suosi was unconvinced. “Impossible! I’ve always treated every girl I meet equally; I wouldn’t ignore someone just because they’re plain. How could I have no impression of her?”

Luo Guanjing seemed to recall something, and a faint smile touched his lips. He looked at He Suosi. “You actually forgot him just like that? Are you sure you don’t want to think a little harder?”

He Suosi shrugged it off as harmless banter. “Oh, really? I’ll think about it. Originally, since she harmed me, I naturally wouldn’t spare her. But if she’s your disciple—should I go easy on her?”

Luo Guanjing rolled his eyes. “If you were still in your Qianqiu Daojun body, then naturally you’d have to show mercy. But right now, you are Pei Nishang…” His eyes sparkled, a half-smile playing on his lips. “I think you’d better be careful.”

Unexpectedly, He Suosi showed no surprise. Hearing Luo Guanjing, he nodded gravely. “Exactly. From the moment I knew she was your disciple, I suspected she was feigning weakness to ambush me. Now that you’ve confirmed it, I’ll be even more cautious.”

Luo Guanjing was again exasperated, but helpless, he could only bang the table.

After noon, Chang Jiaren indeed arrived.

However, she wasn’t alone. She came with Wang Zhongge, their close relationship evident as they chatted and laughed, arms linked, as they approached.

He Suosi had arranged a table of dried fruits and snacks on the stone table in the courtyard, ready to receive them there. Pei Nishang’s courtyard had no flowers or plants, only a massive locust tree. Its branches spread like a canopy, lush and dense, covering almost half the courtyard. Beyond that, the ground was impeccably smooth and dust-free. The stone table beneath the locust tree resembled an isolated island floating on a green sea.

He Suosi spotted Wang Zhongge and Chang Hui from afar and rose to greet them.

“Sister Pei, are you feeling better now?”

As he drew near, he heard Wang Zhongge’s enthusiastic voice. Dressed in a blush-pink gown, she withdrew her arm from Chang Hui’s and, lifting her skirt, ran toward He Suosi.

Her long skirt flowed like water across the ground, and a pale yellow vest accentuated her snow-like skin, making her appear gentle and affectionate. She immediately grasped He Suosi’s hands, scrutinizing his complexion.

Her concern was tinged with tenderness, and her tenderness with a hint of naive charm. After examining He Suosi, she turned to Chang Hui, her voice melodious like an oriole leaving its valley. “She looks much better; there’s color in her face now.”

He Suosi’s heart fluttered in his chest, held by her soft hands. But the thought that this entire display was an act instantly darkened his mood.

He felt he might develop a complex. From now on, whenever a woman treated him kindly, he would likely suspect if it was merely a pretense, if she had some ulterior motive. His heart was filled with inexplicable indignation, yet his face bloomed into a spring-like smile. “Yes, I’m much better, thanks to you all.”

Chang Hui, having reached Wang Zhongge’s side, heard He Suosi’s words and shyly responded, “It’s not thanks to us; it’s Pei Jiaren‘s own profound blessings and diligent cultivation.”

He Suosi subtly observed her, seeing only a pair of slightly bashful phoenix eyes and a smile playing on her lips. By all appearances, she genuinely seemed happy about his recovery.

‘Truly someone not to be underestimated,’ He Suosi thought, a sense of admiration rising within him.

Although this person was Luo Guanjing’s disciple, in some respects, they were lightyears ahead of Luo Guanjing.