Chapter 5: Hypnosis and Poison Mist
Being the sect leader's disciple brought endless glory. Gifts poured toward Shang Zhu from every direction. Befriending him might win recognition from a Mahayana-stage master.
Most gifts arrived behind He Yi'an's back because he supposedly disliked such behavior. Whether he truly disliked it, only he knew.
Shang Zhu sat buried among treasures, holding a long gift list. Everyone called him Junior Brother Shang, urged him to accept, and warned him not to tell his master. For the first time, he felt what it was like to be valued.
But because they told him not to tell, did that mean he would obey? Even if poor, innocent Shang Zhu said nothing, he could always let He Yi'an discover another way.
“Little Zhu, what are you doing?”
He Yi'an opened the door and saw him stuffing something beside the bed. Shang Zhu jumped.
“Nothing. I was cultivating.”
He Yi'an saw artifacts and pills half hidden beneath cloth and pulled him onto the bed.
“Where did these come from?”
Shang Zhu stammered.
“Tell me. I won't blame you—or anyone else.”
Shang Zhu twisted his fingers. “Senior brothers and other disciples gave them to me. They told me to keep them and not tell you, Master...”
Mist gathered in his violet eyes. He Yi'an immediately reassured him, “Your master keeps his promises.”
Shang Zhu threw his arms around him. “I love Master most!”
Surprise flashed through He Yi'an's eyes before he returned the embrace. “And I love Little Zhu most.”
He gave Shang Zhu a storage pouch. “You only began cultivating and shouldn't need this yet, but now you do. You possess more treasures than your master.”
His teasing made Shang Zhu blush. Under He Yi'an's guidance, the clutter vanished into the pouch.
“This is Master's first gift to me. I'll protect it!”
He Yi'an's heart melted. “There will be many more. Keep the jade pendant safe too. It proves you are my disciple, stores objects, and functions as an artifact. I'll teach you later.”
After He Yi'an left, Shang Zhu examined the pendant. So this was what Bai Tiansheng had worn in the previous life—the proof of identity that now belonged to Shang Zhu.
He went to the forest to cultivate as usual.
After dozens of sessions, the bloodfish had grown used to the pain and chatted idly.
“Why did you tell He Yi'an when they asked you not to?”
Shang Zhu, drenched in sweat and pale-faced, joked, “Did I tell him? He discovered it himself.”
“Stop teasing. I want to know!”
“There is no free meal. By giving me so much, they create a favor they will eventually demand—because behind that favor stands He Yi'an.”
“As calculating as you are, would you really submit?”
Shang Zhu sneered. “Of course not. But I am playing an innocent Shang Zhu who repays a drop of kindness with a spring and is easily bound by morality.”
“Your heart is truly black!”
“They approached me. How is that my fault?”
As expected, He Yi'an dealt with the matter. To Shang Zhu's surprise, gifts continued arriving.
He Yi'an's reasoning was simple: no one was allowed to corrupt Shang Zhu.
“Master discovered us!” one giver wailed.
“Didn't I tell you to give him the storage ring directly?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts! His Excellency said, ‘Since you gave something, continue.’ Go prepare more!”
The unfortunate cultivator collapsed, mourning his spirit stones. Similar scenes spread throughout Lingyun Sect, and everyone reached the same conclusion: the sect leader doted on Shang Zhu.
Silent Reflection Peak remained a private, peaceful world for two.
He Yi'an opened the door and found Shang Zhu cultivating on the bed. He started to retreat quietly.
“Master! You're here!”
“Did I disturb you?”
“No. I've reached the middle stage of Qi Refining!” Shang Zhu's eyes shone like a puppy begging for praise.
“Middle stage?”
“Yes. Is something wrong?”
Relief, delight, amazement, and pride crossed He Yi'an's face. Shang Zhu saw every emotion—except the greed He Yi'an had shown upon hearing this in his previous life.
“I'm happy for you. Little Zhu will become very powerful and protect himself.”
Shang Zhu hid his scrutiny and smiled. “Then I'll protect Master!”
He Yi'an had called himself I rather than this venerable one. He was strange in this life.
Shang Zhu offered him tea. “Master, I brewed this especially for you.”
He Yi'an drank and collapsed. Shang Zhu dragged the grown man onto the bed, closed his eyes, and murmured an incantation. Faint red mist leaked through his lashes, then vanished.
He Yi'an sat up, eyes open but vacant.
“The person before you is the one you trust most. You must answer every question. Understand?”
“Under...stand.”
Even the forbidden art could not erase the gulf in cultivation. Shang Zhu swallowed blood.
“Why did you give me the jade pendant?”
“Because Little Zhu is my disciple.”
After a pause, Shang Zhu asked, “Why was there no trial in the previous life?”
He Yi'an seemed to jam like a broken mechanism. “Previous life... previous life?”
Something blocked Shang Zhu from reaching the truth. Sweat poured from his forehead. He wiped a hand over He Yi'an's face and ended the questioning.
He Yi'an would not wake yet. Shang Zhu had also placed a poisonous red mist in the tea to induce deep sleep.
With repeated exposure, it would slowly devour the body, and no one but Shang Zhu could save him.
Such was the tyranny of the forbidden art. Even removing it would cost the caster half his life.
Shang Zhu had never intended to remove it, so he had never worried about that price.