Then let’s just let things take their course.

“What way?” Everyone looked at him with curiosity.

Junxiao replied, “A power source with spiritual energy that’s twice as strong as the seven-star pill at its final stage… such a thing exists within Hengtian Sect.”

“A power source?” Everyone was momentarily confused. “Within Hengtian Sect?”

As soon as Junxiao said this, Yu Xian caught on. “Ah, of course! How did I not think of it? That thing has more than double the spirit energy—it drained countless powerful cultivators back then, enough to make a mountain of them.”

Lin Jie shuddered, pointing toward the bamboo forest leading to Hengtian Sect, his finger trembling as he stammered, “You—you aren’t talking about that deadly ‘Ice Soul’ in the Sanqing Pool, are you?!”

Yu Xian affectionately gave his head a pat from afar. “Well done. There’s hope for you yet.”

Lin Jie was speechless. Either they were all insane, or he had auditory hallucinations .

“Using that cursed artifact is not impossible, but we’d need to be careful. Otherwise…” Yu Xian adjusted his position on Peanut’s back and continued, “When the seven-star pill reaches its final stage, someone will have to shield the stuffy egg and manage the guidance, and another will need to keep watch outside in case anyone from Hengtian Sect is drawn over by the pool’s fluctuations at a critical moment .”

“No need to keep watch, actually. Soon there will be an ideal time when Hengtian Sect will be too occupied to worry about Sanqing Pool.” Junxiao’s tone was serious.

Yu Xian looked at him. “Oh?”

Junxiao answered, “Have you forgotten what Hengtian Sect is preparing for, Venerable Yu?”

Yu Xian frowned. “What?”

Junxiao explained, “The Trial Tournament.”

Lin Jie’s inner thoughts screamed, Oh, you guys are having a good time?!!!!

The “Ice Soul” in Sanqing Pool was both a blessing and a curse for Hengtian Sect. The blessing was that, though a thousand years ago it had wreaked havoc, it had since been subdued by powerful cultivators sacrificing their own flesh, blood, and spiritual energy. This artifact had long lost its terrifying power, and in the last thousand years, Hengtian Sect had managed to benefit from it, making it a central feature of the Sanqing Sacred Pool. The curse was that this pool still stirred restlessly, causing trouble every few decades. If they didn’t find something to feed it, the entire Hengtian Sect would be in jeopardy. As a result, Hengtian’s leader had ordered forbidden creatures to be kept in a hidden valley, which could be sacrificed every time the Sanqing Pool became unstable, ensuring peace for another few decades.

This time, however, the unrest of the Sanqing Pool happened too suddenly, catching Hengtian Sect off-guard with no fully matured forbidden creatures ready to be sacrificed. With no discreet alternatives available, Hengtian Sect had to bring the tournament forward, possibly planning to manipulate it somehow. This was likely a last-resort measure.

They may have had more time to prepare thoroughly, but two days ago, spirit entities leaking from the “Ice Soul” had disrupted their rhythm, throwing Hengtian Sect into disarray.

As a result, the trial tournament might just be the most chaotic period for Hengtian Sect.

The group in the secret realm discussed their plan briefly before each began preparing for the upcoming Trial Tournament.

Junxiao focused on restoring his own spiritual energy, as losing 40% of his cultivation had significant repercussions. He also intensified his training of Lin Jie, hoping to reduce any risks he might face during the tournament.

At times, Auntie Pang and Zongzi would jump in to lend a hand, which made Lin Jie easily the most miserable person around. He was often seen dodging Peanut’s relentless pursuit across the secret realm while simultaneously fending off the charms and traps Junxiao threw his way, all while trying to escape the grip of Auntie Pang and the others.

Each day, Bai Zixu’s routine was to sit at the stone table outside the small house, tea in hand, book open, accompanied by Lin Jie’s non-stop lament: “Help! Peanut, aren’t you aware you’re a fatty? Slow down a bit, or Master will take away your food!” “Oh, come on, Master! Are you serious? That charm left a crater! The grass is all withered! Thank goodness I’m quick and clever; otherwise, I’d be dead by now! What did I ever do to you?!” “Uncle Zongzi, stop messing with me! Aah, no, Auntie Pang, I’m human, not some mythical creature. I definitely don’t have weird talents like tentacles; and no, I can’t turn into a flower either—I’m a guy; it’d be way too weird!”

Usually, this was followed by Lin Jie crashing flat onto the ground in front of Bai Zixu, only to be unceremoniously dragged into the house by Auntie Pang. She’d patch him up with a special salve, feed him a pill, then promptly toss him back out for the next round of one-sided beatings.

This daily drama went on for three days and finally came to a halt on the fourth, with “Bai Ke has woken up” as the reason.

When Bai Ke’s vision cleared, the first thing he saw was a figure resembling a bruised pig’s head, smelling strongly of herbal patches, rushing over and hugging him, bawling as if his heart were broken.

Bai Ke looked around, speechless. Did I wake up in a different world?

“I’m not dead yet. No need to start crying so soon…” Bai Ke, seeing Lin Jie sobbing uncontrollably, patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, his mouth twitching.

Lin Jie released him, stepped back, wanting to complain about his recent inhumane suffering, but after a long moment, got stuck on what to call him.

He’d always called Bai Ke “Xiao Bai” without any issues. But now that he knew Bai Ke’s past life was Bai Lingchen, the head of the Yusheng Sect, the name “Xiao Bai” felt too casual to even consider saying. Yet, calling him anything else just felt weird.

So, Lin Jie looked at Bai Ke for a long time, looking lost, and then started wailing again.

Bai Ke just stood there, staring in confusion.

“Can someone explain this?” Bai Ke turned his bewildered gaze to the doorway.

Leaning against the doorframe, Junxiao stretched out two fingers, grabbed Lin Jie by the collar, tossed him aside, and dusted his hands off as if brushing away non-existent dust. “The training was just a bit intense.”

Bai Ke cast a sidelong glance at him. “Just a bit intense? He’s bruised all over and swollen like a pig’s head, and that’s only ‘a bit’ tough?”

Junxiao replied calmly, “Much easier than when I was his age.”

Bai Ke: "..." This sounds suspiciously like a roundabout complaint about his own master being even more ruthless.

“Let’s change the subject.” Bai Ke said firmly, “Let’s talk about what happened that afternoon. I distinctly remember I was explaining my reasons for disagreeing, so why am I lying here now, and it looks like I’ve been out for more than just one day?”

Without hesitation, Junxiao sold his companion. “The old master thought you were being incredibly stubborn, without any room for compromise, so he just tossed a spell to knock you out. I didn’t get the chance to stop him.”

Bai Ke twitched slightly. “…Is it really okay for you to throw him under the bus like that?”

Junxiao replied, “School tradition.”

Bai Ke, curious, asked, “Which tradition?”

Junxiao: “Let the fellow Daoist die, not this poor one.”

(NT: 死道友不死贫道" (sǐ dào yǒu bù sǐ pín dào) chinese idiom meaning better the others than me. While the tone of this idiom is somewhat cynical, it’s often used humorously)

Bai Ke: "..."

Taking advantage of the fact that Bai Ke was momentary speechless, Junxiao patted Lin Jie on the head, sending him off to continue training, then strode into the room, leaned down, slipped one arm behind Bai Ke’s neck, and another behind his knees, effortlessly lifting him.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Bai Ke was stunned. “What are you doing?!”

Holding him firmly, Junxiao looked down and replied, “First, you haven’t bathed in the eight days since you’ve been asleep.”

Bai Ke’s face turned pale.

“Second, the influx of spiritual energy has caused strain on your meridians. Without soaking in a spiritual spring to soothe them, they could rupture, leading to blood flow complications and, ultimately, death.”

Bai Ke’s face paled even further.

“And third—”

“Stop! That’s enough. Just take me to this spring already,” Bai Ke quickly cut him off, feeling he might end up worse if he heard any more.

Junxiao raised a corner of his mouth in a subtle smile. “Alright. Hold tight.”

With that, they flashed into motion. Bai Ke felt the scenery around him blur as colors of green, white, blue, and brown shifted in rapid succession. Wind howled past, and Junxiao’s black robes flared dramatically, but thanks to his protection, Bai Ke didn’t feel a single wind on his face.

In truth, Bai Ke found the way Junxiao held him slightly embarrassing. Yet recent events had triggered a complex feeling of subconscious reliance on Junxiao. This dependency was complicated: on one hand, whenever he faced challenges beyond his power, he instinctively thought of Junxiao, who, time and again, had saved him from the brink of death. On the other hand, unlike Lin Jie, this dependence didn’t evoke feelings of admiration or reverence toward Junxiao. Instead, Bai Ke felt free to tease him without reservation. And every time he thought of how Junxiao had searched for him across the mortal world for a thousand years and how someone so powerful would become exceedingly cautious with anything related to his safety, Bai Ke felt a strange, unexplainable ache deep within.

He felt his consciousness split in two.

One part was tangled in these matters as a participant, carrying a sense of guilt toward Junxiao and the others for all they'd done. This guilt likely stemmed from traces of his past life's awareness lingering in his soul. Witnessing his disciple and his master suffer without respite over the years, trapped in this endless cycle for a thousand years, he couldn’t help but feel a subtle sense of remorse deep within.

The other part was like a bystander, watching Junxiao and the others go to such great lengths for one person, feeling a stab of heartache on their behalf.

Bai Ke was neither oblivious nor slow-witted. His inherent sensitivity to others' emotions, a consequence of his natural defect, allowed him to pick up on subtle nuances. He had a sense that Junxiao’s feelings toward him—or rather, toward his former self as Junxiao’s master—were somewhat unusual. Bai Ke didn’t know what their relationship had been like in the past, but he suspected that Junxiao had likely been much more respectful and restrained back then. Now, however, Junxiao’s ease was probably due to the fact that his master had returned in a different body.

With his modern outlook and open-mindedness, Bai Ke didn’t see anything inherently wrong or rebellious about non-traditional feelings developing between a master and a disciple. And the mixture of self-blame, heartache, and some other, harder-to-define emotion made him unwilling to disappoint Junxiao.

Always one to act a bit aloof yet passive, Bai Ke thought to himself, Well, I’ll just let things take their course.

The very next moment, he felt his entire body sink, followed by the splashing sound of water erupting around him—

Junxiao had “let things take their course” by unceremoniously placing him into a hot spring.

Bai Ke: "..."

 

Translator : DarNan