Ming Zhu deliberated for a long time before finally recounting the night’s events to Kua Yu.
When he finished, Kua Yu’s eyes widened so far he nearly choked to death on a mouthful of crystal shards.
"Is he insane?!"
Ming Zhu spoke with utter sincerity. "At that moment, I truly wanted to give him a thrashing."
Kua Yu stuffed the remaining half of the crystal into his mouth and swallowed it whole. He knelt beside Ming Zhu, his small hands gripping Ming Zhu’s shoulders tightly. "Then why didn't you? And after he offended you like that, why did you end up comforting him and reading to him instead? Don't you think things are messy enough already?"
Ming Zhu pursed his lips.
Kua Yu continued, "When someone harbors those kinds of thoughts toward you, the only thing to do is distance yourself immediately. You must cut off those filthy desires at the root. That is the only proper course of action."
Hearing Kua Yu use the words "filthy desires," Ming Zhu’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't comment on the choice of words. He simply sighed. "If it were anyone else, I would certainly keep them at arm's length and cease all contact. But Zhou Fuxue..."
Kua Yu shook his shoulders, dissatisfied. "Hey! What is it with him? Why is he so special to you? I’m not happy about this."
Ming Zhu said helplessly, "That’s not what I meant. Where is your head? Do you remember what Ming Zhao said last year when we encountered him in Shuoyu City?"
Kua Yu paused.
"He said that five years ago, he sent a 'scabbard' to Rizhao Mountain." Ming Zhu’s eyes drifted toward the lake, watching the moonlight ripple across the water. He spoke softly, "Five years ago—no, six years now—because Yanfeng was in secluded meditation, I was the one managing the affairs of Rizhao Mountain. I’ve reviewed every matter, large and small, and no matter how much I think back, I have no recollection of any 'scabbard' being sent up the mountain."
Kua Yu seemed to realize something as well. His pupils shrank to pinpoints. He murmured, "The only person who came from the foot of the mountain back then was... the thirteenth disciple newly accepted by Master Gui Ning, Zhou Fuxue."
Ming Zhu nodded. "The inner disciples of Rizhao are often at odds, and Master had long since lost the desire to take on new pupils. Yet that year, he specifically took in Zhou Fuxue, who possesses no spiritual veins. None of us could understand why."
However, if Zhou Fuxue truly was the "scabbard" Ming Zhao had sent to Rizhao Mountain, then everything made sense.
"Before Zhou Fuxue arrived at Rizhao, I had to go to the Cold Pool every six months to suppress the violent heat of the Red Lotus spiritual vein in my body. But since he arrived, my spiritual vein hasn't acted up once, except for that time I recklessly drew the Red Lotus Sword."
Kua Yu’s small face crumpled into a frown. "So, you're saying you only see him as a useful tool? I suppose that makes sense. If he really is a scabbard crafted by Ming Zhao, his only purpose is to shield the Red Lotus Sword’s flames. It’s not unreasonable for you to think that way."
Ming Zhu shook his head, though it was unclear what he was denying.
Kua Yu advised him again, "I’ve told you before, your face is a divine curse. When a youth who hasn't even learned right from wrong meets someone as stunning as you, they can't help but feel their heart stir. If you ask me, you should just take a blade to your face. Once you're an eyesore, no one will lust after you anymore."
Ming Zhu replied, "I know you're technically complimenting me, but why does that sound so wrong?"
Kua Yu scoffed. "Forget it. Stop talking nonsense. Just don't be so kind to Zhou Fuxue from now on, lest his lingering feelings cause even more trouble."
Ming Zhu fell silent, and their conversation ended there.
Early the next morning, the disciplined Shang Yanfeng was the first to wake. As soon as he looked up, he saw Ming Zhu sitting cross-legged on the outer corridor. It seemed he hadn't changed his position all night; his eyes were fixed distantly on the shimmering water, his silhouette carrying an indescribable air of loneliness.
Shang Yanfeng smoothed his messy hair and walked over to sit beside him. "You didn't sleep all night?"
Ming Zhu turned his head, a slow smile spreading across his otherwise expressionless face. He said tonelessly, "I spent the whole night calculating the odds of Master being willing to expel Zhou Fuxue from the sect."
Shang Yanfeng’s brow furrowed. "What happened?"
Ming Zhu hadn't slept a wink, his mind plagued by Kua Yu’s words—*“You only see him as a useful tool.”* The thought made his head throb. Combined with the biting morning wind, he felt utterly exhausted. He leaned to the side, unceremoniously resting his head on Shang Yanfeng’s lap. "I don't want him at Rizhao anymore," he said listlessly.
Shang Yanfeng remained still, acting as a pillow. "The odds are zero," he said flatly.
Ming Zhu partially closed his eyes, his voice weak. "I thought as much. But I still want to try. Maybe Master will be in a good mood today."
Shang Yanfeng replied, "No matter how good his mood is, he won't agree. Moreover, he’ll punish you severely. You just got out of the Cold Pool; have you not had enough of it?"
Ming Zhu’s expression soured. Shang Yanfeng asked, "What exactly did he do to make you so angry that you want to drive him off the mountain?"
Ming Zhu grumbled, unwilling to answer. As he was being difficult, the sound of a zither drifted from behind them. Ming Zhu looked back to see Yi Fuji, dressed in a fresh set of black robes, standing tall outside the door and looking at him with a smile.
Ming Zhu understood the message within the notes. He scrambled up from Shang Yanfeng’s lap and muttered, "Fine, fine, I get it. Stop rushing me."
A short while later, Ming Zhu and Yi Fuji were strolling leisurely across the long suspension bridge connecting the West and North Mountains.
Ming Zhu looked miserable, appearing less like a man going to see his sister and more like a prisoner heading to his execution.
Yi Fuji reached back and lightly tapped a sequence of notes on the wood of his zither: *Fuxue came to see me this morning.*
Ming Zhu startled. After a moment, he asked in shock, "He heard us?"
Yi Fuji: *Yes.*
Ming Zhu’s first reaction wasn't "I'm doomed," but rather a strange sense of relief. He stepped onto the suspension bridge and said softly, "You were right. He’s still young; he shouldn't be trapped in this cage of Rizhao, denied his freedom for a lifetime."
Though Yi Fuji didn't fully understand the meaning behind those words, seeing the rare look of desolation on Ming Zhu’s face made his heart ache. He reached out and gently patted his eldest senior brother’s head.
When they reached the West Mountain, You Nü was already there to greet them.
The girl, always brimming with smiles, came skipping over. The moment she saw Ming Zhu, she threw herself into a hug. "Eldest Senior Brother! It’s been so long!"
Ming Zhu was very fond of this overly energetic junior sister. He returned the hug and said softly, "It has. Did You Nü miss me?"
"I did, I did!" You Nü nodded vigorously. Then she peered behind him and asked, "Where’s Ninth Senior Brother? Why didn't he come?"
Ming Zhu: "..." *How perfunctory!*
Ming Zhu feigned bitterness. "I’m going to go back and thrash that Little Ninth for stealing my favor."
You Nü giggled at his antics. She pulled a small paper parcel from her sleeve, took out a few pastries, and stuffed them into Ming Zhu’s hand. "Eat, Eldest Senior Brother," she said with a beaming smile.
She completely ignored Yi Fuji standing nearby. Fortunately, Yi Fuji was well-bred and showed no sign of resentment, continuing to smile like a noble, swaying flower.
Ming Zhu ate the pastries, his eyes curving into crescents. He asked cautiously, "So, You Nü... how is your Eldest Senior Sister’s mood today? Where is she?"
You Nü blinked. "Isn't Eldest Senior Sister’s mood always a bit bad? Right now, she’s at Donglin Terrace, terrorizing the outer disciples."
Ming Zhu immediately turned his gaze toward the smiling Yi Fuji, his eyes screaming: *Second Brother, save my wretched life!*
Yi Fuji chuckled softly. Only then did he lead Ming Zhu toward Donglin Terrace.
Donglin Terrace was built upon a sheer cliff at the mountain’s peak. Three sides were enclosed by waist-high railings. It was a place of perpetual ice and snow, used by the inner disciples as a martial training ground.
By the time a shivering Ming Zhu followed Yi Fuji up, Ming Fuhua had already cleared the area. She was currently leaning against the railing overlooking the abyss, lost in thought.
Ming Zhu walked over and said tentatively, "Fu... Fuhua..."
Ming Fuhua turned her head, her cold gaze sweeping over him. She casually picked a sword from a nearby weapon rack and said to Ming Zhu, "Spar with me."
Ming Zhu hurriedly declined. "No, no, no... I’m only at the Foundation Establishment stage right now..."
Before he could finish his refusal, Ming Fuhua swung her sword without blinking. Wherever the sword-wind passed, a thick layer of frost formed on the ground, stopping just inches before Ming Zhu.
Ming Zhu was so terrified his breath hitched. He scrambled to hide behind Yi Fuji, clutching his arm and shaking it. "Second Brother... save me..." he stammered.
Snow began to fall from the sky, covering the frost almost instantly.
Ming Fuhua said, "Move."
Yi Fuji smiled. He unslung the zither from his back, suspended it before him with a flick of his wrist, and plucked a single note. A semi-circular wave of spiritual energy drifted toward Ming Fuhua.
Ming Fuhua didn't even look as she slashed the wave apart. She repeated, one word at a time, "I said. Move."
Left with no choice, Yi Fuji gave Ming Zhu a look that said, *“I’ve done all I can.”*
Ming Zhu finally stepped out, trembling. He said with a long face, "I have to see Master later. Don't 'spar' too hard..."
Ming Fuhua replied, "Naturally."
An hour later, Yi Fuji was carrying Ming Zhu—who was too battered to even crawl—back across the suspension bridge.
Half of Ming Zhu’s body felt frozen solid. He was covered in bruises, yet miraculously, there wasn't a single scratch on his face, allowing him to see Master Gui Ning in "perfect" condition.
Ming Zhu whimpered against Yi Fuji’s back. "I suspect we aren't actually related. Otherwise, how could she have the heart to be so ruthless?"
Yi Fuji simply smiled.
Once they returned to the North Mountain, Ming Zhu managed to muster some strength. He slid off Yi Fuji’s back and said, "I’m going to find Master. You go on back. Oh, and remember to tell whoever was the last to leave my courtyard to clean up. Every time we drink, I’m the one who has to tidy. You all just pat your robes and leave—it’s so unfair."
Yi Fuji reached out, tapped him between the brows with a smile, and departed.
Ming Zhu looked toward the Great Hall of Rizhao. His shimmering eyes held a deep, heavy light. After a moment, he stepped inside.
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Is Everyone Else's Eldest Disciple Like This? | Chapter 53 | Spare My Wretched Life | Novela.app | Novela.app
