Chapter 7

Song Qingshi spent the entire night searching the storeroom and eventually found an old robe made of red ice silk. He removed the decorative array from it, handed it to his medical servants, and asked them to modify it into an inner garment overnight. Along with a new cotton robe, he quietly placed it at Yue Wuhuan's bedside.

The next day, when Yue Wuhuan saw the ice silk inner garment, he paused for a moment.

Song Qing Shi was already urging from outside the door: "Hurry, let's go conduct the new treatment."

"Yes, Master," Yue Wu Huan, aware of his change in ownership, didn't dare to contemplate further. He quickly put on his clothes, feeling significantly more comfortable in his movements.

Song Qing Shi led him through the corridor to the adjacent elixir chamber, formerly a forbidden area in Medicine King Valley. This was where his predecessor conducted unethical experiments on both animals and humans. Honoring the Helsinki Declaration, Song Qing Shi refused any such practices. Fortunately, there were not many specimens left when he took over. He released those he could and assisted others in finding liberation, transforming the room into a treatment chamber. Remaining specimens were moved to other rooms—valuable assets for future medical research.

As Yue Wu Huan walked to the elixir chamber, he noticed that more than one medicine servant was giving him sympathetic glances, making him uneasy. Upon entering, he saw Song Qing Shi bring out a medicine vat large enough to contain a person, which heightened his anxiety.

Oblivious to Yue Wu Huan's discomfort, Song Qing Shi dropped precisely measured herbs into the vat and poured in water. Utilizing his internal alchemy fire for heating, he waited until the water turned a deep red before instructing: "Take off your clothes and get in."

Yue Wu Huan remained motionless, his gaze becoming stiff.

"Don't worry," Song Qing Shi finally remembered to explain, "this is Red Grass Detoxifying Bath—it's a medicinal bath, and it won't be uncomfortable."

Hesitating for a moment, Yue Wu Huan began to undo his waistband.

Song Qing Shi turned his back, taking a seat so as not to sneak a peek at Yue Wu Huan bathing.

Relieved, Yue Wu Huan swiftly disrobed and stepped into the blood-like medicinal liquid. The hot and spicy fluid penetrated his skin, causing a mild stinging sensation that was oddly comforting. He took a deep breath and fully relaxed, submerging himself entirely. However, he hadn't anticipated the liquid would overflow, splashing onto Song Qing Shi's neck, ears, and hair, as well as leaving faint red blossoms on his white mage robe.

For most cultivators, a robe is a treasured possession; even minor damages can cause heartache.

Yue Wu Huan sensed trouble and discreetly emerged from the water, taking cover behind the rim of the tub to spy cautiously, worried he had offended the Celestial Lord.

Song Qing Shi paid no mind to what had just occurred; he was staring fixedly at the cobblestones on the ground. After a moment, he discreetly shook off the water droplets in his hair.

Yue Wu Huan pondered before asking cautiously, "My Lord, would you turn around so that I may dry you?"

Song Qing Shi lowered his gaze, focusing more intently on the cobblestones: "You're bathing; it's not appropriate to watch." In his worldview, it's ethical for a doctor to examine a patient's body for medical treatment, but peeping during a bath would be morally reprehensible.

Yue Wu Huan mulled over this for a while, then ventured a guess: "Does the Lord find me unclean?"

Song Qing Shi shook his head, whispering: "You don't like being watched."

"You jest, My Lord," Yue Wu Huan's eyes turned cold. He paused before emerging from the water, his wet hair clinging to his shoulders like a merman. His physique was sculpted to perfection, his waist slim yet teeming with latent power. Leaning against the edge of the tub, he drew close to Song Qing Shi's ear, his phoenix eyes beguiling and a red tear-shaped mole on his face captivating enough to steal hearts. In a voice like a siren's lure, he said, "What is there to hide about this wretched body of mine? Countless have seen and claimed it beautiful, even lascivious. They say I cannot even walk without a man, that I was born to be seen."

Song Qing Shi promptly interrupted him, reiterating: "You don't like being watched."

Yue Wu Huan studied him for a while before hoarsely saying, "I've ceased to care."

Song Qing Shi was at a loss for words but insisted: "You don't like it."

"Can we refuse what we don't like?"

Yue Wuhuan found this notion amusing. In the years when he was first sent to entertain guests, he was often coaxed with words like "if you don't like it, you don't have to do it." All that led to was having his vulnerabilities exploited for others' amusement.

Disliking being seen meant he had to display his most compromising postures time and again, in squares and at banquets, for everyone to see.

Disliking lewd talk meant enduring all kinds of drugs and torture devices until he learned to audibly excite the audience.

Until he gave up on shame, gave up on dignity, and pretended to enjoy these experiences.

He had long understood that in the eyes of these haughty cultivators, he was nothing more than a beautiful toy, devoid of emotion, to be molded into whatever pleased his masters. He often wished he could lose his sanity, like most slaves, living a dog's life without thought, pleasing his masters with his body.

Unfortunately, a glimmer of lucidity always remained in his heart, coldly scrutinizing his disgraceful self, leading to self-loathing.

Perhaps, he was already mad.

The fire beneath the vat had subtly increased at some point, the medicinal liquid becoming hotter, and so did Yue Wuhuan's face. He no longer felt the scalding heat as he sank his head deep into the red medicinal liquid, until even his nose and mouth were submerged, stifling his breath. He didn't want to come up; he wished to remain there forever, hoping that the boiling liquid could cleanse his filthiness, even melt his bones if possible.

Sensing something was off due to the silence behind him, Song Qingshi turned around. He realized he had lost focus while speaking earlier, allowing the temperature to spike. Yue Wuhuan had vanished beneath the surface of the water. Without a second thought, Song Qingshi lunged forward, reaching into the vat to pull him out.

The soaked beauty was dragged into his arms, eyes tightly closed, limbs limp, his wet hair clinging to his fair skin, water droplets splattering on the ground, drawing attention to the tattoo on his back. Song Qingshi felt no romantic thoughts; he quickly laid him down, checked his pulse, and started CPR and artificial respiration.

Yue Wuhuan spat out some water and opened his eyes to find Song Qingshi's face inches from his own. He could even see his own reflection in those clear eyes, tinged with red from the heat of the furnace. Long, water-laden eyelashes framed those eyes, making him look like a naive young boy, not at all like a millennia-old cultivator. What a lethal deception.

Not recognizing him earlier by the river and even feeling pity for him—his death would have been well-deserved.

Yue Wuhuan's thoughts became increasingly disordered. He subconsciously curled into a fetal position, images and memories flashing before his eyes. The pressure in his chest and the lingering warmth on his lips made him lose track of time, as if he had been transported back to moments of punishment.

Song Qingshi almost "flunked," his actions purely instinctual, like a startled tiger. Only when Yue Wuhuan regained consciousness did he breathe a sigh of relief. He realized that in the world of cultivation, there were many ways to treat drowning, making modern CPR unnecessary.

It was hard to articulate what had just transpired.

Performing CPR on a drowning victim is standard procedure for a medical student, regardless of the victim's appearance or age. Song Qingshi felt awkward for not employing the best emergency procedures from the cultivation world but didn't dwell on it. The problem was, he wasn't sure how to explain.

Yue Wuhuan's eyes lost focus; he slowly unfurled his body, no longer covering himself, resembling a dying fish forcibly dragged ashore, left to be carved up by others.

Song Qingshi quickly turned his head and closed his eyes, apologizing sincerely, "I'm sorry, I messed up the water temperature."

"Master, you did nothing wrong," Yue Wuhuan's eyes were open but saw nothing, his ears heard but understood no language. He repeated the standard response, "It's my fault, my fault..."

It was a lesson he had learned at great cost, drilled into him again and again, constantly reminding him how he should live.

"Wuhuan, you're so beautiful; you were born to be toyed with."

"Wuhuan, it's your body that seduces men, leading to your degradation."

"Wuhuan, your allure is so irresistible, it leaves me with no choice."

"Wuhuan, you're a creature born of desire."

"Wuhuan, it's all your fault."

"Wuhuan, it's all your fault."

...

"My fault, my fault, my fault…" Yue Wuhuan numbly repeated, "It's all my fault."

Because his very existence was a mistake.

Song Qingshi took off his robe and draped it over Yue Wuhuan. He suddenly realized that the man before him was in a troubling mental state, seemingly enveloped by some dark enchantment. After a moment of consideration, he reluctantly fetched a bucket of cold water from nearby, cast a freezing spell over it, and poured it over Yue Wuhuan. The cold shock snapped him back to a semblance of lucidity. Seizing the moment, Song Qingshi administered a tranquility pill.

"Master?" Yue Wuhuan seemed slightly dazed upon regaining consciousness.

"It's alright," Song Qingshi said as he wrapped him up with prepared towels and clothes, layer upon layer, like a bundled dumpling. He then offered a reasonable explanation, "You were hallucinating after almost drowning."

Yue Wuhuan nodded blankly.

Assured that his human 'dumpling' was securely wrapped, Song Qingshi stopped and advised, "Wear more clothes in the future."

Yue Wuhuan looked at him, asking uneasily, "I may wear more?"

Song Qingshi responded with firm guidance, "Autumn is approaching, and the weather is getting colder. You must wear more to avoid catching a cold."

"Thank you for your kindness, Master," Yue Wuhuan softly replied after confirming that Song Qingshi was not lying. He clutched his clothes tightly, and for some reason, he was reminded of the moment he entered Jin Feng Mountain Villa, the humiliating scene where he was stripped bare and reduced to an object.

Now, this deceptively innocent-looking man was personally dressing him, layer by layer, as if enticing him to expect something…

The interrupted medicinal bath had not fully taken effect.

Song Qingshi was busy refilling the vat with water and medicine while readjusting the temperature.

Yue Wuhuan sat quietly on the ground, watching Song Qingshi busy himself on his behalf. He pondered deeply, and then realized that the unbearable burning sensation in his body had lessened significantly. A subtle shift in his posture revealed that the drug-induced sensitivity had also diminished; the friction of the fabric against his skin no longer felt unpleasant.

After speculating for a long time without any answers, he finally mustered the courage to ask, "Master, what is the Red Herb Purifying Bath for?"

"Ah?" Song Qingshi paused, slightly bewildered. He realized he'd committed the classic overachiever's blunder—assuming everyone could keep up with his rapid-fire thoughts just by him mentioning a term or concept.

A quick learner, Song Qingshi reorganized his thoughts and chose the simplest explanation, "Your body has been corroded by various drugs, which is why you're uncomfortable. The Red Herb Purifying Bath can remove the residual drugs in your system. You'll need to take five baths, adding regenerative herbs and Snow Toad Ointment for the last two sessions to help heal old injuries. It will hurt and itch, and numbing medication won't help much. Don't worry; once you endure this phase, your body will return to its original state."

Song Qingshi couldn't bear to say much else: those people never cared about Yue Wuhuan's well-being, and the reckless use of aphrodisiacs had led to a dangerous build-up in his system. If it continued, he wouldn't survive for many more years.

"Being overdosed…is because they found me boring," Yue Wuhuan tightened his grip on his clothes, unwilling to let go. He hesitated for a while but decided to clarify the inevitable, "Master, if not for the drugs, my body won't respond to men. You won't find pleasure in me; I'm not suited for those things and only with the aid of drugs can I—"

Song Qingshi interrupted his disarrayed speech, "If it's not suitable, don't do it."

"You don't have to be kind to me," Yue Wuhuan grew more fearful as he exposed his feelings, his voice tinged with despair. "I have nothing to offer you but this body."

Sensing Yue Wuhuan's emotional turbulence, Song Qingshi turned to face him. Words of comfort circled his mind a thousand times but disappeared on the tip of his tongue. He could only muster, "You do."

The Yue Wuhuan in his heart was the child practicing his swordsmanship under the peach tree, the young man who aspired to become a sword master as a mere mortal.

The Yue Wuhuan he saw was a phoenix soaring through the heavens, the most brilliant star in the night sky—only now with broken wings and covered in dust.

Song Qingshi walked over step by step, each one firm and resolute.

Yue Wuhuan tried to remain calm, but his body betrayed him, trembling slightly as he thought of retreating.

Song Qingshi squatted down, half-kneeling, and looked intently into his eyes.

Yue Wuhuan felt cornered, as if he had nowhere left to go.

Song Qingshi promised, word by word, "Whatever you've lost, I'll help you reclaim; whatever you desire, I'll give you."

Yue Wuhuan's breathing grew rapid. Though he couldn't yet comprehend the full weight of this promise, he saw the sincerity and determination in Song Qingshi's eyes. Carefully, he asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Song Qingshi pleaded, "Please, stop hurting yourself."

After contemplating for a long time, Yue Wuhuan finally nodded.