Sect Leader Is Under Great Pressure CH 111 In The Year Of Meeting, A Fateful Encounter Is Ordained
After a cultivator achieves the Golden Core stage, their body becomes solidified and typically ceases to grow. Therefore, unless someone deliberately chooses to transform into an old man, the younger a cultivator appears, the earlier they must have attained the Dao.
Compared to his master, Feng Qingxiu achieved the Dao slightly later. Although he wasn’t yet twenty, those two years were a time of rapid growth in height, so Feng Qingxiu actually stood about an inch taller than his master, who still maintained a youthful appearance. However, his master’s aura was so overwhelming that even a giant would seem small before him.
Feng Qingxiu placed one hand against the mountain rock behind his master, his expression cold: "How does Master want me to scold you?"
Ji Yunlai felt a moment of daze. That familiar sensation even quickened the heartbeat of his nonexistent heart in this form. Unable to resist, he raised a hand to touch his apprentice’s face. However, despite only being a soul fragment now, he was still a Human Immortal. In the instant he raised his hand, he regained his senses, and the hand naturally landed on his apprentice’s shoulder instead. He chuckled softly, "Xiao Qing, you’re quite fierce this time. You really startled me."
Feng Qingxiu let go, turned, and walked away, with what seemed like a faint dark aura following him.
Ji Yunlai watched the shadow of his apprentice ripple away and slowly sat down on a stone chair, picking up the tea his apprentice had brewed. The fragrance of the tea lingered, and the tea was slightly warm, akin to a gentleman—gentle and as refined as jade.
After setting down the teacup, he stared at the fingers that had just touched his apprentice. His fingers were long, pale, and flawless, as if they were naturally carved by the heavens, still holding a trace of warmth. That feeling—like a heartbeat—was unsettling.
Something, it seemed, had crossed a line.
How could this be? Ji Yunlai rested his chin on his hand, falling into deep thought.
Recalling the past, he suddenly realized that since the second day he woke up as a sixteen-year-old, he had clearly been in a constant state of fear. Yet, it seemed that the moment he saw Xiao Qing, all that fear melted away.
Among the thousands of Kun-Lai disciples, his gaze had never wavered, blind to everything else, to the point he hadn’t even noticed how different Xiao Qing was. No, maybe it was precisely because he was so different that it seemed only natural...
So, I seem to have fallen for Xiao Qing?
How could that be? We’re master and apprentice! Ji Yunlai frowned slightly, trying to reject the thought. I didn’t take him as an apprentice because I liked him… did I?
He seriously thought about it and suddenly felt a bit deflated. It seemed he really had taken Xiao Qing as an apprentice because he liked him. But at that time, it was a pure, innocent fondness for a junior! Sure, I was mentally sixteen—but no! Let’s not blame it on being sixteen. I lived on Earth for more than thirty years; by any calculation, I’m still his elder!
But once Ji Yunlai figured it out, he felt even more deflated. So I really do like Xiao Qing?
Is it… just loneliness from being single for a thousand years?
Ji Yunlai chuckled lightly and picked up the teacup, sipping it. The tea had cooled, its taste slightly bitter.
Still… this isn’t good.
Xiao Qing is still young and has his whole life ahead of him. I’m his master, after all. I shouldn’t affect his worldview, nor should I misuse my position to lead him astray.
When he’s grown older, more experienced and worldly, then we’ll see if I still feel this way.
Until then, I’m just his master. Only his master.
He raised the teacup and drained it in one gulp.
But suddenly, he realized something.
Wait, so in the past, I was constantly flirting with Xiao Qing without realizing it…?
Sigh… I’ll have to be more mindful from now on.
Having figured everything out, Ji Yunlai found that he wasn’t happy. On the contrary, thinking about how he wouldn’t be able to tease the easily flustered Xiao Qing anymore, he felt utterly dejected inside, though one wouldn't know it judging by his cold and indifferent exterior.
After sitting there for a long time, he turned to see that his apprentice had locked himself away in his room again.
He was a little unsure what to do with Xiao Qing.
***
After sitting for a long time, his apprentice still didn't come out.
Ji Yunlai thought for a bit and decided to leave for a while to let himself sober up.
The young man named Luo Chi from Jietian Dao had taken the stone that fell from his Dao Seed and left the flying peak for the Nine Abyss.
With his divine consciousness, he watched as An Xian also packed equipment and prepared to go to the Black Witchlands.
Ji Yunlai was also a little curious about that place. What was there to be afraid of in such a dangerous place that even Synthesis cultivators didn't dare to go to easily?
It just so happened that he also wanted to go there to find something, so he decided to go there first.
***
Feng Qingxiu returned to his room, placed restrictive wards all around it, and finally buried his head in the soft bedding.
Heaven knows how terrified he had just been.
At that moment when he, in a fit of pique, pushed his master, he had instinctively thought of… doing something… How could he even think like that?
That’s his most respected master! How could he think of pushing his master down?!
And his master—how could he be so easily pushed over?!
He looked at his hand. It was this hand that had pushed his master. I’m not going to wash this hand—no! This hand should be chopped off!
Feng Qingxiu touched his burning ears.
He suddenly realized, maybe, possibly, or perhaps… vaguely… No, no! He just respects his master. It’s the love an apprentice has for his master!
What am I even thinking? He pressed the hand that had pushed his master against his burning face.
That’s my master!
The master I’ve admired since I was young.
I’m just too young. I need to recite the Purity Sutra more often. I can’t have these kinds of thoughts anymore.
But my master is so beautiful... I fantasize... no, I mustn’t think that way, it’s an insult to him!
How can this be happening?!
Feng Qingxiu’s mind was a tangled mess, his heart uneasy, much like when he was younger, worrying about whether he would be accepted into Kun-Lai.
With a glance, he noticed his shadow swaying erratically on the ground.
He didn’t even have the strength to pull it back together.
After a while, he realized that his shadow seemed to be silently watching him.
Though shadows couldn’t actually “see”, he could just feel it.
Thinking about the earlier incident when his formless sword struck his shadow, Feng Qingxiu felt he didn’t even deserve to breathe. If he couldn’t even control his own shadow, how could he be worthy of being his master's apprentice?
***
His mind in turmoil, after much deliberation, it was still a jumbled mess. So Feng Qingxiu simply grabbed a pillow and covered his head, deciding to sleep.
This was something he learned while in the outer sect—when your mind is unsettled, if you can't resolve it, then take a good rest, adjust your mood, and face it again. Never force yourself to meditate, or you might suffer a deviation in your cultivation.
The shadow tilted its head slightly and then returned under Feng Qingxiu.
Feng Qingxiu started dreaming again.
In his dream, he saw his master standing silently before a blood-stained white camellia, eerily quiet. He stood beside him, unable to do anything.
This was not the master he knew. He was too cold, so cold that just being near him made Feng Qingxiu feel as if he would shiver.
Master stood there, gazing at the bloodstains on the camellia from sunrise to sunset, and then to the next sunrise.
The camellia bloomed without withering, and the blood remained as bright as ever. But the surrounding mountains and forests gradually turned from green to yellow, eventually covered in thick white snow, until the first snow melted and life returned.
Finally, his gaze shifted towards Feng Qingxiu.
After a long time, he spoke, “You’ve won.”
The voice was devoid of emotion, yet Feng Qingxiu wanted nothing more than to rush forward and shout for him to stop looking, but he couldn’t move.
Master raised his fingers, and that pale fingertip was wrapped in a domineering sword light, slowly extending towards the center of his forehead.
Feng Qingxiu almost screamed as he tried to leap forward.
But he couldn’t move, as if he were just a stubborn ghost of an obsession standing there.
Master, what are you doing?
“I don’t want to wait for you to return anymore.” It seemed that his cries had been heard, for the master across from him calmly directed the sword light at his own forehead. His voice finally carried a hint of warmth, like a soft feather brushing against Feng Qingxiu’s heart. He said, “Don’t be afraid, I just want us to meet at our best moment.”
No, no, I don’t want to meet you like this, I just want you to be well, as long as you’re well!
I’ll be back soon, wait for me—!