Embrace

Lin Langyao’s expression froze and then crumbled on his face.

He cried out in disbelief, “What did you say?!”

Wen Chaoxuan did not look at him; with his hands clasped behind his back, he strode past him.

Slowly, he descended the inn’s staircase.

The white sleeves of his robe seemed to slip through Lin Langyao’s fingers like uncaring clouds.

Lin Langyao reached out, but failed to grasp his master’s departing steps.

His head swam, echoing only Wen Chaoxuan’s cold and merciless words:

“I said, starting today, you will copy the ‘Tai Xuan Jing’ once every day as punishment.

If we are traveling, you may defer it, but I will keep count of the days, and you will copy them all when we return to Qintian Peak.”

In his entire life, Lin Langyao feared neither heaven nor earth, but there were two things he dreaded.

One was Wen Chaoxuan.

The other was Wen Chaoxuan punishing him with copying or memorizing texts.

When he was a child, learning to read and write, he was often scolded and beaten by Wen Chaoxuan.

He simply could not sit still at his desk; no sooner had he settled than he would scratch his ears, rub his cheeks, and glance around.

His eyes would either steal glances out the window, or his bottom would fidget, always yearning to escape.

Wen Chaoxuan later devised a method: whenever he tutored Lin Langyao, he would tie him up completely and secure him to the desk.

This finally ensured Lin Langyao remained still.

However, Wen Chaoxuan soon discovered another problem: the moment Lin Langyao opened a book and saw words, his eyes would glaze over, as if he wished to sleep forever.

Sometimes, he appeared to be diligently studying with a book in his hands.

Yet, when Wen Chaoxuan approached and pulled the book away, he would discover that the fellow had long since fallen asleep, drooling profusely.

Consequently, Wen Chaoxuan altered his strategy once more.

He would simply hang Lin Langyao upside down during lessons, or make him stand on his head against the wall to recite and read.

Under such arduous conditions, it was impossible for him to fall asleep again.

Recalling those childhood days now, it was nothing short of chaotic (TL Note: Chinese idiom ‘ji fei gou tiao’ describes a scene of utter chaos, literally ‘chickens flying and dogs jumping’).

Wen Chaoxuan had truly gone to great lengths to prevent him from becoming an unlettered brute who knew only martial prowess.

As for Lin Langyao, the source of all this trouble, his life had also been exceedingly difficult.

Thus, over a hundred years after escaping the rigors of diligent study (TL Note: ‘Han chuang ku du’ is a Chinese idiom meaning ‘hard study in a cold window,’ referring to diligent and arduous study),

to suddenly hear Wen Chaoxuan order him to copy texts as punishment again,

was nothing short of a bolt from the blue, a world-shattering catastrophe.

Lin Langyao’s world had collapsed.

****

By the time the master and disciple walked one after another into the inn’s backyard, the young healer had already woken up.

He was pacing in circles.

Upon looking up and seeing Lin Langyao, he visibly flinched.

However, Lin Langyao was in no mood to tease him further.

Wen Chaoxuan went to the Spirit Vulture’s stable and crouched down.

He conducted a thorough check on the unconscious cultivator, discovering an access token from the Lu Clan’s estate.

This confirmed that the man was indeed from the Lu Clan.

Holding the token, Wen Chaoxuan emerged, deep in thought.

He looked at the young healer and asked in a cool, clear voice, “Whom did the Lu Clan intend for you to heal? And why did they injure someone after failing to abduct you?”

Zhou Shaoyang stared blankly at Wen Chaoxuan’s face, his mouth agape.

It seemed he had never before witnessed such a distinguished figure.

Only upon hearing Wen Chaoxuan’s question did he snap back to reality, his lips fumbling, as he clutched his robe in a terrified, uneasy manner.

Wen Chaoxuan discerned his apprehension.

His gaze subtly shifted towards the unconscious middle-aged cultivator, and he stated unhurriedly, “Matters always require resolution.”

Zhou Shaoyang followed his gaze, immediately grasping the implication in Wen Chaoxuan’s words.

The Lu Clan disciple would eventually awaken.

If Wen Chaoxuan and his disciple did not intervene, the situation would simply revert, and Zhou Shaoyang would still be apprehended and taken back to the Lu Clan.

In a flash of realization, he dropped to his knees with a thud, clutching the hem of Wen Chaoxuan’s robe, tears streaming down his face as he pleaded, “Immortal Venerable, please save me!”

Even Lin Langyao was startled by his sudden action.

Wen Chaoxuan, however, calmly helped the young healer to his feet.

According to Zhou Shaoyang, the Lu Clan members had suddenly sought him out several months prior.

Zhou Shaoyang had gained a minor reputation as a healer in the Northern Lands, with common folk calling him the “Miraculous Hand Immortal Child.”

He typically provided medical treatment wherever his travels took him.

Some, having heard of his renown, would specifically seek him out for medicine.

When the Lu Clan disciples arrived at his door, Zhou Shaoyang assumed it was a routine house call and accompanied them.

Unexpectedly, that visit turned into a soft detention lasting one to two months.

He was confined to a room within the Lu Clan’s estate, with guards posted outside.

He could go nowhere.

Each day, different patients were carried into the room, their bodies covered with white cloths.

If Zhou Shaoyang attempted to lift the cloth to examine them, he would be sternly stopped.

He could only feel their pulse by touching their exposed wrists.

The conditions of these patients also baffled him greatly.

“Why couldn’t you figure them out?” Lin Langyao asked curiously.

“Their bodies… emitted a faint, elusive floral scent,” Zhou Shaoyang recalled, his brow furrowed.

“And along with weak pulses, I truly couldn’t discern what illness they suffered from.

The Lu Clan people didn’t insist I cure them; they only required me to sustain their lives with medicine.”

“That certainly doesn’t sound like anything good is going on,” Lin Langyao remarked, looking at Wen Chaoxuan.

Even if Lin Langyao didn’t already have a preconceived bad impression of the Lu Clan, the situation still sounded incredibly suspicious and bizarre.

Wen Chaoxuan offered no comment, simply instructing Zhou Shaoyang to continue.

“Later, I escaped,” Zhou Shaoyang said with lingering trepidation.

“I used some of the medicinal herbs they provided to concoct a bit of sleeping incense, which I used to knock out the guards at the gate.

I then fled the Lu Clan estate under the cover of night.

However, I hadn’t even escaped the Jiuyuan territory before their people caught up to me, and that’s when I encountered Fellow Daoist Lin… who came to my aid.”

Lin Langyao had not expected that merely casually pulling off a sack would lead to such a complicated affair.

He felt a surge of sympathy for the young healer.

“A visit to the Lu Clan estate is necessary,” Wen Chaoxuan stated, making his judgment.

“However, we must first attend to matters at the Heavenly Craft Pavilion.”

Zhou Shaoyang looked at the two of them with hopeful eyes, “Can I come with you?!”

He was truly afraid of being caught again by the Lu Clan members.

To his disappointment, Wen Chaoxuan shook his head, “It is not advisable to have too many companions on this journey.”

“But, the Lu Clan people…”

Wen Chaoxuan asked, “Do you have any other sedatives with you?”

Zhou Shaoyang nodded.

“Administer some to him, and calculate the timing for the dosage yourself.

We won’t be gone for long, two or three days at most, and we will return to find you then.

I’ll entrust the Spirit Vulture to your care for now; if any more Lu Clan members pursue you, ride the Spirit Vulture away to seek temporary refuge.”

Zhou Shaoyang was practically prostrating himself in admiration for Wen Chaoxuan, nodding repeatedly in eager agreement.

Wen Chaoxuan and Lin Langyao, unwilling to waste any more time, decided to set off immediately.

With the Spirit Vulture entrusted to the young healer,

the two of them could only travel by soaring through the void (TL Note: ‘Feng xu yu feng’ is a Chinese idiom meaning ‘to ride the wind and float in the void,’ indicating flight without physical support).

Lin Langyao still had no idea how Wen Chaoxuan intended to transport him.

Wen Chaoxuan pointed to the ground in front of him, instructing him to stand straight.

Lin Langyao obediently walked to Wen Chaoxuan and stood straight.

As he stood there foolishly, not understanding the meaning, he saw Wen Chaoxuan extend a hand.

Then, he felt his body lighten, and he was lifted horizontally into a bridal carry.

Lin Langyao: “……………”

Wen Chaoxuan: “…”

A vein pulsed on Wen Chaoxuan’s forehead. “What are you doing?”

Lin Langyao was stiff and rigid in his arms, like an old salted fish that had been freeze-dried for ten years.

This made Wen Chaoxuan appear as if he were carrying a corpse.

Wen Chaoxuan almost doubted what was going on in Lin Langyao’s mind, and, unable to bear it any longer, he commanded, “Relax!”

Lin Langyao let out an “Oh” and slowly relaxed his body.

Yet, he still felt a little awkward, nestled motionless in Wen Chaoxuan’s embrace.

So he asked again, “Master… is there any chance we could try a different posture?”

Wen Chaoxuan was silent for a moment. “Do you want me to carry you on my back?” he asked.

Lin Langyao imagined the scene and found it… somewhat unimaginable.

Unwilling to bicker with him further,

Wen Chaoxuan simply tapped his toes against the ground and ascended into the air.

Lin Langyao opened his mouth and immediately got a mouthful of wind.

As expected, he wisely shut his mouth and remained silent.

Midway through their journey, the wind became too strong, and Wen Chaoxuan feared that Lin Langyao, in his current state, would not be able to withstand it.

He paused and retrieved a large cloak from his spatial sleeve, draping it over Lin Langyao.

Lin Langyao huddled within the cloak, which shielded him from the biting wind, leaning against Wen Chaoxuan’s warm chest.

He had never felt so close to his master before.

It was a fervent, deeply coveted warmth.

Unlike the countless times he had woken on a cold bed, gazing upon an empty thatched hut or a dark, profound pavilion,

he knew that what he leaned against was a living, tangible presence.

And because of this person’s existence, he was not left friendless and alone in the world.

In a hazy daze, Lin Langyao felt himself drifting off to sleep.

He dreamt that his younger self had also been held in Wen Chaoxuan’s embrace, traversing through a prolonged expanse of darkness and bitter cold.

When he awoke, he vaguely felt that it was not merely a dream, but a memory that had truly existed.

Wen Chaoxuan descended with him before the mountain gate of the Heavenly Craft Pavilion.

Lin Langyao jumped down from Wen Chaoxuan’s embrace.

Wen Chaoxuan folded the large cloak and tucked it back into his sleeve.

Lin Langyao looked at his master, hesitatingly asking, “Master, when I… when I was little, did you also carry me like this, soaring through the void?”

Wen Chaoxuan glanced at him. “You don’t remember?”

Lin Langyao froze.

“When I found you,” Wen Chaoxuan said, “I carried you back to Qintian Peak.”

Lin Langyao hadn’t expected it to be a real memory.

He indeed remembered little from his childhood, especially the period before meeting Wen Chaoxuan, where his life in the mortal world was a complete blank.

It was as if his life had only truly begun after he became Wen Chaoxuan’s disciple.

Wen Chaoxuan had already begun walking towards the Heavenly Craft Pavilion’s mountain gate.

Lin Langyao watched his master’s tall, ethereal back and quickly followed.

****

Heavenly Craft Pavilion, before the mountain gate.

The mountain guard disciples blocked their path. “Who are you, and what is your purpose here?”

Wen Chaoxuan replied, “We wish to meet your esteemed sect’s Sect Master.”

The mountain guard disciples scrutinized the two of them.

Although Wen Chaoxuan possessed an extraordinary appearance, he always dressed simply, his white robes clean and devoid of excessive ornamentation.

Lin Langyao, on the other hand, loved to wear lavish brocade and embroidered robes, indulging in extravagance—but only when Wen Chaoxuan was not around.

Now that his master had returned and was dressed plainly, wouldn’t it be courting death for him to parade around ostentatiously? Thus, he too wore a simple, unadorned robe.

In the eyes of the mountain guard disciples, they appeared to be nothing more than two penniless paupers.

The mountain guard disciple asked, “Do you have an invitation?”

Wen Chaoxuan calmly replied, “What if we don’t?”

The mountain guard disciple lifted his chin and sneered, “What do you take the Heavenly Craft Pavilion for? A place where any low-ranking nobody can just waltz in?

Is our Sect Master someone nameless nobodies like you can simply demand to see?”

‘Low-ranking nobody’ Wen Chaoxuan: “…”

‘Nameless nobody’ Lin Langyao: “…”

Lin Langyao immediately wanted to roll up his sleeves and teach the disciple a lesson (TL Note: ‘Kai kai yan’ literally means ‘open their eyes’, implying to show them something impressive or teach them a lesson).

However, Wen Chaoxuan expressionlessly grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back.