Chapter 54

Almost all the disciples of the Red Dragon Sect had gone to kneel at the ancestral hall, their palms reddened by their master's strikes, crying incessantly.

All discordant speech was burned, stringent education enforced, attitudes toward study rectified, and worldviews realigned.

Song Qingshi was extremely satisfied with Immortal Lord Yan Yuan's handling of the situation. He had Wu Huan send a complete set of math textbooks to the young Nian Nian and arranged for messenger birds to deliver exercise books to her every now and then. This was to monitor her progress, conduct surprise tests, and check her grades, helping her advance further on her path in the realm of magical formations.

Immortal Lord Yan Yuan was overjoyed, offering thanks upon thanks.

Blue Sister and the others also declared one after another that they would certainly assist Medicine King Immortal Master in diligently supervising the child's studies and would no longer indulge in any unruliness.

Nian Nian cried even harder. Her master was right; beneath his gentle exterior, Medicine King Immortal Master was a man of extreme cruelty. She gave up on the fantasy of marrying such an older brother when she grows up. It was too terrifying! Wu Huan was a much better choice; his demeanor was gentle, his smile warm. He even helped persuade her master to be patient, saying children would learn at their own pace and that there was no rush. He promised to choose simpler study materials to make her life more enjoyable.

She decided it would be better to marry someone like Wu Huan when she grows up.

After confirming that Immortal Lord Yan Yuan was in good health, Song Qingshi prepared to leave with Wu Huan.

Wu Huan was somewhat worried: "What about Elder Brother An? He mentioned he was going to buy some liquor but never showed up in the town. Where could he have gone?"

"Probably off causing some mischief," Song Qingshi laughed. "Don't worry, he's not a child and he's adept at tracking spells. If he needs to find us, he will. His actions have always been elusive. He has a habit of disappearing in the middle of things, which is quite vexing. But I usually leave him to his own devices. If something arises, he will send a message asking for help."

Wu Huan felt a twinge of regret but had no choice but to let it go.

The two rode to Nanhai City, a place that enjoyed spring-like weather all year round. The Flower Festival had already begun. The entire city turned into a realm of flowers, with each household adorned in colorful blooms. Floral aromas filled the air, restaurants served floral dishes, and both young girls and boys wore flowers in their hair.

Having never participated in the Flower Festival before, Song Qingshi found it quite refreshing.

He discreetly glanced at a cheat sheet tucked in his sleeve to confirm his understanding of local customs, preparing to share the information with Wu Huan.

Wu Huan interrupted his recitation with a smile: "Master, I've been here before."

"When did you—?" Song Qingshi caught himself. His memories of Wu Huan were from when he had first arrived at Medicine King Valley. He had forgotten that he had been in a coma for ten years and failed to keep pace with Wu Huan's growth, remaining stuck in the past.

Things he had failed to do, Wu Huan had done himself. Places he had never visited, Wu Huan had already been.

How foolish he was.

"I rarely go out," Song Qingshi realized and then laughed. "Wu Huan, will you show me around?"

During the Flower Festival, Nanhai City was bustling with visitors and thick with crowds.

Song Qingshi couldn't use his fire spells to clear a path, nor could he employ his toxic abilities without harming innocents. Time and again, he was drawn into the crowd by roadside vendors selling interesting items.

Wu Huan also found it inconvenient to use his Blood King Vines to grab Song Qingshi in such a crowd. After some deliberation and patience, he finally took hold of Song Qingshi's arm the next time he was stopped by a vendor trying to sell him fruit: "There are too many people; don't get separated."

Song Qingshi took out one of the two blue fruits he had just bought and offered it to Wu Huan, asking with a smile, "Would you like some?"

"It's quite sour, not very tasty," Wu Huan took the fruit. "If you want to try it, I'll candy it for you first."

Just as he finished speaking, he saw Song Qingshi wipe the fruit on his hand and take a bite. Before Wu Huan could stop him, he said, "That's unclean."

Song Qingshi pondered for a moment, "I don't find it sour; it's quite tasty, actually."

Wu Huan replied, somewhat helplessly, "It is sour."

Song Qingshi discarded the fruit in his hand and laughed, "I was joking; it is indeed sour."

As the sun approached its zenith, Wu Huan guided him into a clean teahouse. They chose a table by the window, and Wu Huan took out his personal tea set. He meticulously wiped it before tossing a spirit stone to the server, instructing him to bring some flower petals. After cleansing the petals, Wu Huan brewed a pot of flower tea and paired it with homemade pastries, placing them before Song Qingshi.

He would do this whenever he had the chance along their journey.

Knowing Wu Huan's strong aversion to uncleanliness, Song Qingshi accepted gratefully. He glanced around and noticed that the other patrons had discreetly turned their gaze away. A couple at the table next to them hastily left. Some curious onlookers, however, were stealing glances at Wu Huan's beautiful mask.

When An Long was around, people usually avoided them, which he found understandable given Alaska's intimidating presence.

Yet even without An Long, people were still avoiding them...

While his title as Medicine King Immortal Master might have a fearsome reputation, he seldom ventured out and was rarely recognized. He had never encountered such an atmosphere before. Was it because of Wu Huan?

Had Wu Huan done something?

Song Qingshi's expression grew increasingly grave.

Wu Huan noticed his hesitation and laughed as he explained, "Every year during the Flower Festival, sea merchants come here. I got word from Ye Lin about the appearance of Blue Spirit Resin, so I came."

Blue Spirit Resin was an extremely rare herb useful for limb restoration.

Song Qingshi nodded, understanding that Wu Huan had sought the herb for him.

"After purchasing the Blue Spirit Resin for a high price, I caught the attention of some malefactors," Wu Huan appeared slightly crestfallen. "Seeing that I was just a Foundation Establishment cultivator, they tried to kill me and seize the herb. I had no choice but to dispose of them. Perhaps my methods were a bit excessive…" Wu Huan had used puppet incense to control them before experimenting with his newly developed Bone Numbing Poison. After a successful trial, he hung them at the city gate with his Blood King Vines to deter other wrongdoers.

Had his actions then been a bit too flamboyant, drawing attention?

Had he known his master would visit, he might have been more discreet, or at least have better concealed his true identity.

Wu Huan thought regretfully before asking, "Master, did I do something wrong?"

Song Qingshi decisively responded, "You did nothing wrong. Harsh measures are justified against evildoers!"

"Alright, I'll be more careful in the future," Wu Huan said, smiling as he changed the subject. "Master, there are many interesting events during the Flower Festival. In about two hours, a floral parade should pass by. Nanhai City is famous for its beauties, and every year the most beautiful girls are chosen to depict mythological figures on floats. Many famous painters also gather to draw their portraits. I didn't get to see the parade last time, and I've always regretted it."

What he regretted even more was not finding that damned painter.

Filled with curiosity about the parade floats, Song Qingshi leaned out the window, craning his neck this way and that to get a better view.

After an agonizing wait, the float finally arrived. On it were twin sisters; one radiant as a blooming flower, the other captivating as a submerged fish. Adorned with intricate diadems and resplendent feathered robes, the sisters embodied mythological phoenixes. Floating mid-air via an array, they danced gracefully on a float constructed from flame flowers, their flowing sleeves mimicking fluttering wings. They appeared as two ethereal birds.

The spectators were utterly mesmerized, jostling to get closer, tossing gold beads and spirit stones onto the float.

The teahouse that Wu Huan had chosen was some distance away, and it was difficult to see the float clearly.

Quietly, Song Qingshi extended his spiritual sense to control nearby dragonflies and butterflies, sending them toward the float to circle it, ensuring he missed no detail.

Wu Huan leaned in, observing his intense focus. Holding back his rising jealousy, his Blood King Vines stealthily extended from the ground and wrapped around Song Qingshi's leg. Tightening their grip, the vines whispered into his ear, "Master, do you find them beautiful?"

Song Qingshi turned and sincerely replied, "Beautiful, but not as beautiful as you."

Those sisters were faux phoenixes created through adornment. His Wu Huan was a true phoenix, requiring no embellishment.

Wu Huan happily asked, "Then, Master, how about you only look at me?"

Song Qingshi shifted his attention away from the parade float and sat down, focusing solely on Wu Huan. "Alright."

His master was so obedient...

Always accommodating, never causing him any distress.

Yet for some reason, Wu Huan felt uneasy. Something didn't seem right. The town seemed too dangerous for tourism, filled with malevolent people and impurities. The sooner they resolved their business and returned to Medicine King Valley, the better.

They sat silently, sipping their tea.

As the day was still far from dusk, they checked into an inn. Wu Huan commented that he'd been too busy to rest well recently and wanted to stay in and read. Song Qingshi joined him, clumsily narrating the peculiar story of "Little Red Riding Hood," followed by some math problems. Seeing that Wu Huan was still not sleepy, he brewed him a cup of sleep-inducing tea. Unable to refuse, Wu Huan drank it, only to find it unexpectedly potent. Despite his best efforts to resist, his eyelids grew heavy, and he eventually drifted into slumber.

In his dream, he became the Big Bad Wolf, tying up his master in a forest and engaging in unspeakable, vile acts.

His master cried and begged, pleading for him to stop...

He wanted to, but couldn't bring himself to.

Eventually, he forcefully woke himself up, tormenting himself over the evidence of his bodily relief. Wanting to carve bloody marks onto his body, yearning to whip himself with the Blood King Vines as a form of punishment, but fearful of discovery, he managed to restrain himself. Instead, he pinched his palms hard enough to leave red marks and slowly regained his composure.

The Blood King Vines writhed beside him...

Suddenly, Bai Zihao sensed something amiss; was that the scent of soul-soothing incense lingering in the air?

The room next door was empty; the Blood King Vine wrapped around the master's foot had been loosened. Where had the master gone?

Had he escaped? Was he gone?

Yue Wuhuan's breathing became erratic; an unfathomable terror enveloped him. Haphazardly throwing on his clothes and grabbing his mask, he bolted from the room in a frenzy...

He could not afford to lose something so precious.

It was the sole purpose for which he lived.

　...

The moonlight was like water—serene and silent.

The artist was engrossed in his painting, whereupon the canvas sat a pair of beautiful phoenix sisters; their innocence rendered into an alluring, soul-capturing beauty.

Suddenly, he became aware of a soft tap on the window behind him. Turning around, he saw a youth with a tender face and clear eyes, clad in layers of snowy garments. The boy sat quietly on the windowsill, apparently engrossed in the painting for some time.

Could he be here to request a painting? But what sort?

The artist critically surveyed the youth. He was no breathtaking beauty, nor was he robust, but his demeanor was pristine, and his skin was translucently pale. Stripped of his splendid snow attire, half-revealing his form in a posture of coy resistance, he could certainly fuel the artist's creative drive.

Song Qingshi felt somewhat uncomfortable under the artist's curious gaze. Adjusting his white robe, he cautiously inquired, "Excuse me...are you the creator of 'Portrait of Beauties in a Prosperous Age'?"

Hearing the young man mention his magnum opus, the artist brightened up, "Yes."

"Great, I've been looking for you for a long time," Song Qingshi sighed in relief. He had discreetly scoured the parade of flower palanquins, observing the style of this artist and finding it similar to what he had been searching for. However, anxious of making an error, he hadn't dared to inform Yue Wuhuan and had snuck out to confirm. "I didn't expect to meet you here. Do you enjoy creating those kinds of paintings?"

The artist grinned, "Of course I do. Would you like me to paint one for you?"

Lowering his head shyly, Song Qingshi smiled, and a beautiful black lotus blossomed in his hand, its petals unfolding one by one.

One who paints scenes of purgatory should return to purgatory.