Shang Yanfeng was exceptionally gifted. He had formed his Golden Core at fifteen, and by the age of twenty-three, he had already reached the Great Perfection stage. Revered by the entirety of Rizhao Mountain as the "Final Bastion" and "the man more reliable than the Sect Leader," his strength was undeniable.
The Fifth Senior Brother was a man of few words, his heart entirely consumed by cultivation. His only quirk was his obsession with secluded meditation.
On Rizhao Mountain, if one were to ask for Shang Yanfeng’s whereabouts, the answer was almost always "Fifth Senior Brother is in seclusion" or "Fifth Senior Brother is on his way to seclusion." Regardless of whether his cultivation had hit a bottleneck or his realm needed stabilizing, it seemed he would find any excuse to retreat—be it the cafeteria’s potato chicken being subpar or the Master punishing the Eldest Senior Brother again. Such tenuous reasons were frequently used as pretexts for his retreats, earning him the nickname "The Seclusion Senior" among the outer disciples.
The two Nascent Soul cultivators were stunned into silence the moment they saw Shang Yanfeng. Though he did not overtly project his power, they could sense the faint, crushing pressure of the Great Perfection stage emanating from him.
Ming Zhu, who had nearly been killed moments ago and was cowering like a frightened quail, suddenly felt a surge of confidence. Now that Shang Yanfeng was here, he felt that even if everyone on the kite-ship ganged up on him, his Fifth Brother could beat them all back with one hand tied behind his back.
"Fifth Brother, Fifth Brother!" Ming Zhu stumbled forward, his weak legs nearly giving out as he lunged toward Shang Yanfeng’s arm. Shang Yanfeng didn't even budge when struck; he remained as steady as a monolith.
Ming Zhu pointed at the two men. "They really intended to kill us just now. If you hadn't arrived in time, our corpses would be rotting in the wilderness by now. Oh, and look at my face—they cut me. I’m disfigured!"
The two cultivators: "..." *Nonsense! You cut yourself!*
Shang Yanfeng’s brow furrowed. He actually believed Ming Zhu’s drivel. He turned his head, lightly brushed over the wound, and his expression turned cold. Gripping his sword hilt, he said tonelessly, "Then I cannot let you leave so easily today."
The two cultivators: "..."
Ming Zhu was considered useless on Rizhao Mountain, his only redeeming quality being his handsome face. It seemed the cold Fifth Senior Brother was a devotee of beauty; the moment he saw the injury on Ming Zhu’s face, the pressure he had been suppressing exploded, surging toward the two Nascent Soul cultivators like an incoming tide.
The two men groaned in misery. Who could have guessed this brat, who hadn't even reached the Nascent Soul stage, had such a powerful backer? They retreated in disarray, but Shang Yanfeng swept his longsword in a cold arc, knocking them both off the deck. They vanished into the distance in an instant.
With the danger averted, Gui He let out a soft chuckle. His eyes crinkled as he looked at Ming Zhu, saying gently, "Ah-Zhu, your Master asked me to tell you that upon your return, you need not go back to Wenxian Residence. Go directly to the Cold Pool for seclusion."
Ming Zhu, who had been leaning triumphantly against Shang Yanfeng’s arm, froze. He gave Gui He a fawning smile. "S-Small Martial Uncle, considering I’ve been so gravely injured, please be kind and put in a good word for me with Master."
Gui He turned his head as if speaking to someone beside him. Then, his shoulders shook as if he were being scolded by Daoist Gui Ning. He turned back with a bitter smile. "My apologies, Ah-Zhu. I cannot help you."
Ming Zhu’s face turned ashen.
Soon, the kite-ship landed at the Transit Platform at the foot of Rizhao Mountain. It was late at night, and the platform was deserted. Ming Zhu and the others were the first to disembark. A cold wind swept across the desolate plains, howling like a wild beast.
Ming Zhu shivered and pulled his clothes tighter. He looked at Shang Yanfeng. "There are no carriages back. Are we staying here for the night?"
Shang Yanfeng unwound the long black scarf from his neck and draped it haphazardly around Ming Zhu’s throat. He shook his head. "No."
As they stepped off the platform, they saw Lu Qingkong and You Nü waiting for them.
For some reason, Lu Qingkong’s expression was hideous. You Nü was chattering incessantly beside him, but he ignored her completely. Finally, driven to annoyance, he turned and glared at her, his ears flushing red. "You are not allowed to tell anyone about this!"
You Nü’s pretty face was full of curiosity. "But why?"
Lu Qingkong said in a muffled, angry voice, "Just don't! If you say a word, you're dead!"
Cowed by his "intimidation," You Nü could only blink her watery eyes at him, whispering aggrievedly, "Fine, You Nü understands."
Seeing her look so pitiful—even though he knew she was likely acting—Lu Qingkong couldn't help but feel his face heat up. After a long pause, he muttered awkwardly, "I... I didn't mean to be mean to you..."
You Nü immediately beamed, grabbing Lu Qingkong’s arm and leaning in close. "Mhm! I knew Senior Brother was the best to me!"
"..." Lu Qingkong’s face was practically burning. He snapped with forced sternness, "Let go! Stop being so touchy-feely!"
You Nü giggled. "Didn't Senior Brother just say he wouldn't be mean?"
Lu Qingkong: "..."
With his arm pressed against You Nü’s soft warmth, Lu Qingkong felt like he was being cooked alive.
Seeing this, Ming Zhu teased, "Oh? What are you two doing? In broad day—oh, in the middle of the night, pulling and pushing like this. Where is your decorum?"
Lu Qingkong had intended to give Ming Zhu a sound thrashing to vent his terror of being thrown overboard and the humiliation of being carried bridal-style by You Nü. But the moment Ming Zhu appeared, he treated him like a life-saving straw. He hurriedly shook off You Nü’s hand and hid behind Ming Zhu, trembling and refusing to come out.
You Nü smiled brightly, ceasing her teasing of Lu Qingkong. She bowed to Ming Zhu. "Eldest Senior Brother is finally back. If you had stayed away any longer, Senior Sister Ming Fuhua would have turned the West Mountain into a frozen wasteland."
Ming Zhu gave a dry laugh. He knew Ming Fuhua wouldn't give him a warm welcome after he fled the mountain, but having it pointed out so cryptically by You Nü in front of everyone was still embarrassing.
A brother fearing his younger sister—even someone as thick-skinned as him felt a twinge of shame.
Shang Yanfeng had no interest in their reminiscing. "We’re going back," he said coldly.
You Nü nodded. She raised a hand and tore a chaotic rift into the void, stepping through first.
Ming Zhu was shocked. "She can tear through the void already?"
Shang Yanfeng shook his head. "Her cultivation isn't high enough. She learned a secret technique from somewhere; it's not true void-tearing, just a displacement array."
At the mention of an array, Lu Qingkong, who was still hiding from You Nü, brightened up. "Fifth Senior Brother, you're saying she made this array herself?"
Shang Yanfeng gave a noncommittal hum and stepped inside.
Relieved that he didn't have to wait for dawn or fly back on a sword, Ming Zhu happily followed with his two junior brothers.
There was a flash of black light, and it felt as if countless stars were rushing past. When they opened their eyes again, they were at the Disciple Steps of Rizhao Mountain.
Nearby, the Exquisite Pagoda swayed in the wind, its bells chiming as if welcoming their return.
Though he had only been gone for a few days, Ming Zhu felt as if a lifetime had passed. He looked up at the Ever-Burning Lamps hanging in the distant main hall, pursing his lips slightly, lost in thought.
Shang Yanfeng patted Lu Qingkong and Zhou Fuxue on the shoulders. "It's late. Go back and rest."
Lu Qingkong asked, "What about you two?"
Without looking back, Shang Yanfeng reached out and grabbed Ming Zhu, who was trying to sneak away. "I’m taking him to the Cold Pool for seclusion," he said flatly.
Caught by the collar and hearing the words "Cold Pool," Ming Zhu began to thrash about wildly. "I’m not going! I won't go! That place is freezing and boring as hell, it's no place for a human!"
Shang Yanfeng’s hand was like iron, remaining unmoved by Ming Zhu’s struggling. "I spent three years in seclusion there. I only came out the day before yesterday."
Ming Zhu: "..." *Oh. I insulted the wrong person.*
Lu Qingkong looked at Ming Zhu’s scarred and unbandaged left hand. Feeling a pang of sympathy, he spoke up. "Fifth Senior Brother, Eldest Senior Brother’s left hand is still injured. Let’s take him to Shen Dian to get it bandaged before going to the Cold Pool. A little delay won't hurt."
Shang Yanfeng continued walking toward the back mountain, dragging Ming Zhu by the collar. "He doesn't need your concern. Go back to sleep. You have morning lessons tomorrow."
Lu Qingkong and Zhou Fuxue exchanged a look, eventually leaving with sighs of helplessness.
Ming Zhu followed Shang Yanfeng dejectedly to the Cold Pool. Seeing the entrance, which was wreathed in mist and thick ice, he timidly grabbed Shang Yanfeng’s sleeve. "Let's pick another spot, Fifth Brother," he whispered.
Shang Yanfeng grabbed his hand and tossed him inside, then stepped onto the frost himself.
The Cold Pool was a natural stone cavern. In the center, a pool of water continuously emitted frigid air, freezing the surroundings into a world of ice and snow.
Ming Zhu was frequently punished here and was well-acquainted with the place. Seeing no escape, he found a clear spot by the water and sat down.
Shang Yanfeng frowned as he approached. He gathered his robes and sat beside Ming Zhu, taking his left hand. Seeing the blood and filth stuck to the glove, his frown deepened.
"How did you get hurt like this?"
As he spoke, he began to peel the glove away from the wound bit by bit. The flesh was practically fused to the fabric. Even though Ming Zhu couldn't feel pain, the sight of the cloth tearing away from his raw flesh made him shudder involuntarily. He turned his head away.
Soon, Shang Yanfeng tossed the blood-soaked glove aside. Holding the back of the hand where the Red Lotus Mark was no longer visible, he scooped up some water from the pool and splashed it over the wound.
The agony of the flesh being torn earlier hadn't made Ming Zhu flinch, but the moment the Cold Pool water touched him, he let out an uncontrollable groan. Tears pricked his eyes as he turned his head and rasped, "It's burning..."
He couldn't feel pain, but he could feel an unbearable heat radiating from the Red Lotus Mark.
Shang Yanfeng didn't even look up, splashing a few more drops. "If it feels burning to you, then it is pain."
Ming Zhu could barely stay seated as the icy water touched him. His entire body shook violently, and he tried to pull his hand away, but Shang Yanfeng held it in a death grip. By the time the wound on the back of his hand had been washed clean, Ming Zhu was drenched in sweat.
Shang Yanfeng placed his hand on the ground. Miraculously, the mangled flesh on the back of his hand began to heal, and soon the wound was gone. The Red Lotus Mark glowed brilliantly once more, looking as though it were dripping with blood.
Aside from that initial groan, Ming Zhu had kept his teeth clenched the entire time. He had bitten down so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
He couldn't even sit up now, collapsing onto the icy floor, gasping for breath. His eyes were vacant, as if the intensity of the sensation had dazed his mind.
Shang Yanfeng didn't look at him, staring instead at the rippling water. Only when Ming Zhu’s breathing stabilized did he speak softly. "Master was gravely injured in the secret realm. When he returned and learned you had fled Rizhao, he nearly went mad with worry."
It was unclear if Ming Zhu heard him. He lay on the ground like an exquisite ice sculpture, motionless.
Shang Yanfeng didn't expect an answer. He continued, "So, now that you've left Rizhao, what did you see in the mortal world?"
The Cold Pool was silent, save for their faint breathing and the sound of water dripping from the cavern ceiling.
After a long silence, Ming Zhu’s raspy voice slowly rose. "I... I saw the vast sky, the towering mountains, the bright stars, and the clamor of the human world..."
Shang Yanfeng asked, "Is that what you've always wanted?"
Ming Zhu murmured, "What I... wanted?"
He slowly pushed himself up from the ground. Sitting beside Shang Yanfeng, he looked at the Cold Pool. For some reason, a faint smile appeared on his pale face—a smile that was both wild and lonely, no longer hidden behind a mask.
"Junior Brother, do you know what my greatest gain was from this trip?"
Shang Yanfeng turned to look at him.
Ming Zhu raised his hand, looking at the perfectly healed Red Lotus Mark. His once-vacant eyes slowly turned sharp and cold. He tightened his fingers into a fist and said softly, "It was learning what it means to know one's destiny, yet walk against the will of Heaven."
***
