The Immortal Monarch’s Distress

Someone was indeed inside the room. Yet, the door remained stubbornly shut.

He Suosi hesitated at the threshold for a long while. Just as he was about to give up and leave, the door swung open.

Guangyu Immortal Monarch stood there, his expression as impassive as ever. Upon seeing “Pei Nishang,” a subtle, tired smile touched his lips.

“Nishang, what brings you to my study?”

He Suosi bowed his head deeply, concealing his internal shock. “I heard that the Immortal Monarch has been resting in the study recently,” he began, reciting his rehearsed lines, “so I prepared a bowl of soup for you.”

He spoke with an air of elegance, but his mind was a tempest of realization.

‘Guangyu Immortal Monarch seems… off.’

While the Monarch’s eventual opening of the door suggested he was maintaining his facade, He Suosi’s quick glance revealed a startling truth. The Guangyu Immortal Monarch, once flawless and poised, was now riddled with imperfections. If He Suosi’s guess was correct, the man was on the verge of losing control over his heart and soul—the early signs of Qi deviation.

In simpler terms, he was utterly distraught.

The reason was unclear, yet He Suosi harbored some suspicions. It was inconceivable that the Guangyu Immortal Sect itself was in trouble. Yuan Zhigong, a man who appeared at times innocent and at others gentle, was in reality cold and heartless. He had shown no reaction whatsoever when Yu Anlin went missing, making it highly unlikely that a subordinate’s trouble could have caused such a profound impact.

However, there was one crucial detail: he had someone he loved. On the day he spoke of his beloved, sorrow and melancholy had overflowed from him. His affections clearly ran deep.

‘Tsk, tsk, you’ve finally met your match.’

Yuan Zhigong, of course, was oblivious to He Suosi’s schadenfreude. In his eyes, the person before him was merely Pei Nishang, someone he had always trusted. If she were to discover his current anxiety, it would only cause her needless worry.

Yet, the report in his mind relentlessly lingered: ‘Qianqiu Daojun He Suosi, during cultivation, suffered Qi deviation and died.’

How could this be? It had to be false news. But if it were false, why hadn’t He Suosi himself come forward to deny it? Had he encountered some disaster? Yuan Zhigong’s mind was consumed by these questions, sinking into a mire from which he found it difficult to escape.

He Suosi inwardly revelled in his rival’s misfortune while outwardly placing the soup on the desk with unhurried grace. He then casually scanned the room.

The study was spotless. Two immense windows on opposite walls promised excellent natural light, though now, with the bamboo blinds lowered, the room was dim, illuminated primarily by a luminous pearl on the desk.

‘This is nothing like the austere and tedious existence of an ordinary cultivator,’ He Suosi thought. ‘Compared to him, my original cave dwelling was practically prehistoric.’

A hint of bitterness arose in He Suosi’s heart, but he masked it with a faint smile. “Is the Immortal Monarch busy with affairs? Perhaps you should drink some soup first; it will help restore your energy.”

‘Anyway, once you drink the soup, I’ll leave, and we can go back to our separate ways.’

Just as Pei Nishang had once said, Guangyu Immortal Monarch truly did not touch her. Even when accepting the soup, he waited until she had set it down and moved aside before approaching the desk.

“Thank you, Nishang. I’ve neglected you these past few days. My apologies.” Though his voice was as cold as shattered ice, his tone was undeniably gentle.

At that moment, He Suosi felt that Yuan Zhigong was actually a decent person in his own way. Despite his high position, he never imposed his bad moods on others.

Yuan Zhigong silently drank the soup. He Suosi leaned against the desk, recalling Lan Jun’s advice that he must speak. He said, “The flowers in the garden bloomed beautifully today. On my way here, I met Chang Jiaren and her companions. They mentioned hitting a bottleneck in their cultivation and wished to seek the Immortal Monarch’s guidance.”

“Is that so?” Yuan Zhigong tilted his head, pondering for a moment. “I didn’t see them.”

‘Of course you didn’t; I scared them away,’ He Suosi thought. He then said, “It seems they remembered something halfway and turned back.”

Yuan Zhigong stood and drank half the bowl before placing it back on the table. As he set it down, he subtly turned his body, clearly maintaining a respectful distance from He Suosi.

He truly didn’t touch Pei Nishang. If that was the case for everyone, then his past treatment of Yu Anlin—frequently visiting her courtyard—must have been exceptionally special. Could it be that the unrequited love he spoke of was for Yu Anlin, and because she was “dead,” he was now broken?

‘Doesn’t seem right.’

Yuan Zhigong returned to his seat, asking, “What about you? Have you encountered any problems in your cultivation? Your progress hasn’t seemed to move much in recent months.”

‘Alas, what progress could there be? Without returning to my own body, any advancement is a nightmare.’ For a moment, He Suosi was genuinely filled with sorrow. He sighed, “I don’t know what to say. Perhaps my heart is troubled.”

“Is it because of me?” Yuan Zhigong suddenly asked.

The directness of the question caught He Suosi off guard. He waved his hands repeatedly. “How could it be? It’s my own problem.”

Yuan Zhigong replied, “The greatest taboo in cultivation is obsession. Your talent is exceptional, Nishang. If you can resolve your worldly attachments and cultivate without distraction, a thousand years from now, the cultivation world will surely have a high place for you… I am not worth this devotion from you.”

He Suosi was stunned. He had assumed the entire inner residence was filled with the Monarch’s playthings, yet here was the Monarch telling “his woman” to cultivate diligently so she could leave him behind. It was truly strange.

He looked up at Yuan Zhigong. The other man wasn’t looking at him, but gazing into the void. Beneath the soft, cold light, his skin was as pristine as fresh snow. He was like a beauty stepped out of a painting, causing He Suosi to momentarily lose himself.

Then, the Monarch’s petal-like lips uttered these words: “But, let there be no more incidents like Yu Anlin’s.”

A shiver ran from He Suosi’s heels to the back of his head. ‘He knows?’

“I saved her, but she was severely wounded in the Lake Heart Sea Sky. I don’t know when she will awaken. I will not bring her back here, either. Since it was said she went missing, then let her remain missing. She probably doesn’t like it here anyway.”

Yuan Zhigong continued calmly, “Wei Jiaren has also left. I remember she is your cousin, and I imagine you two had some personal grudges. She said she was willing to change her identity and leave the sect. Although the path of cultivation outside might be more difficult, at least there are no restrictions.”

He Suosi braced his hands on the desk. He suspected he was being influenced by Pei Nishang’s residual emotions again. Hearing that Yu Anlin (his former body) wasn’t dead had somewhat relieved him, but he was terrified by how much the Monarch knew.

He Suosi whispered, “Since the Immortal Monarch already knows, why… why don’t you punish me?”

He Suosi felt Yuan Zhigong’s gaze fall upon him. “You were merely deluded for a moment, Nishang. I thought you understood perfectly well that wasting your time on me is meaningless.”

He Suosi looked at the floor. “The person the Immortal Monarch loves… is it Fairy Yu?”

“No,” Yuan Zhigong replied.

Whether it was a sigh of relief or despair, He Suosi finally slumped to the floor. The cold tiles gave him goosebumps. Yuan Zhigong took a few steps closer, seemingly intending to help him up, but his hand ultimately hovered in the air, never reaching out.

He Suosi braced himself on the ground, attempting to stand, but his hand pressed into the folds of his gauze skirt, causing him to stumble. Just as he was trying to right himself, a warm body suddenly enveloped him, pressing him back to the ground.

He Suosi’s head slammed against the hard stone. Before he could even curse, he saw Yuan Zhigong—who had moments ago been as cold as frost—pinning him to the ground, his eyes tinged with a dangerous red.

‘Why does he always go berserk so suddenly? Is he bipolar?’

Yuan Zhigong asked in a hoarse voice, “What did you put in the soup?”

His hot breath brushed He Suosi’s face, carrying a hint of moisture.

“…Aphrodisiac?” He Suosi’s confused question was taken as an affirmation.

Yuan Zhigong immediately clutched his own throat. His voice was deep, filled with killing intent. “Pei Nishang, do you truly not care about your own life?”

“I—I don’t know!” He Suosi was flustered. The soup had been given to him by Zhuyu. Could Zhuyu have drugged it to facilitate a “reconciliation”? But as a high-level alchemist, how could he not have smelled it?

Physiological tears welled in He Suosi’s eyes. He batted at Yuan Zhigong’s hand on his neck. “I truly don’t know! I didn’t put anything in it!”

Yuan Zhigong finally released his grip. He retreated to the side and began to vomit, looking utterly miserable. He Suosi, however, had no time for mockery. His hair was disheveled, and his throat was burning. Without waiting for another word, he frantically grabbed the table and stumbled toward the door.

At that moment, a crushing pressure, like that of an ancient fierce beast, rapidly surged from behind him.