Chapter 103: Wenqing Pleads for Forgiveness

“I don’t care what schemes you’re plotting in the Upper Realm,” Ye Yuan said coolly, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the man kneeling before him. “But if you insist on running into me, I won’t be merciful.”

“Master!” Qi Qing blurted out anxiously, unable to stop himself. “But the Emperor truly—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Ye Yuan’s voice cut through the air like thunder, silencing him. He stepped forward, his gaze turning toward Wenqing. “Wenqing, do you still remember what you said the day you begged to enter my tutelage and seek the Dao?”

Wenqing froze. Something flickered in his eyes as memory returned—his face turned deathly pale, guilt surging like a tide in his chest. “I… I said I wished to uphold righteousness in the mortal world and protect peace among men…” His voice grew smaller and smaller as he spoke, his body bowing lower and lower, as if he wished he could sink into the ground.

Ye Yuan’s expression didn’t change; he looked at him calmly, his voice slow and heavy. “I still remember the vow you made that day. You, however, have already forgotten it.”

“M-Master, please forgive me!” Wenqing fell to the ground again, his face burning with shame. “This disciple has failed your teachings!”

“You’ve not failed me,” Ye Yuan replied, stepping aside to avoid the bow. But the words that followed pierced deeper than any reprimand. “The only one you’ve failed is yourself.”

“…” Wenqing trembled all over. A rush of conflicting emotions filled his chest—shame, regret, self-loathing. He had thought himself cautious and prepared, aware of every price he’d pay. Yet he had already lost the most important thing long ago. The heart that once sought righteousness—when exactly had it slipped away?

Ye Yuan paid no mind to his turmoil. His tone remained cold. “I cannot concern myself with the affairs of Heaven. But if any of you bring your conflicts into the mortal realm…” His eyes narrowed, and a freezing aura burst forth. “I destroyed one once before—believe me, I can destroy a second.”

Wenqing felt his entire body go cold. He bowed his head deeply. “Yes, Master. Your disciple understands.”

“Take these back with you.” Ye Yuan flicked his sleeve, sending a handful of glowing spiritual veins into the air. “And deliver my words to them. Let them decide for themselves how they wish to act.”

Wenqing scrambled to catch the colorful veins, then looked up quickly. “Master… you’re not coming to the Upper Realm with me?”

“That foul, polluted place? What would I do there?”

“…” Another knife straight to the heart. Still, he tried again, hesitant but earnest. “But if you were in the Upper Realm, none of this would happen. We’ve all missed you deeply these years, and they’ve been searching for you everywhere. No one expected you to be in the mortal realm. If only—”

“No need to say more.” Ye Yuan’s voice was final, cutting him off coldly. “I have no interest in your petty games.”

“…Games?”

That word alone left Wenqing speechless.

“You needn’t tell anyone I’m here,” Ye Yuan added indifferently. “Go.”

“Master…” Wenqing still wanted to speak, but Ye Yuan’s figure flickered—and vanished back into the ancestral tablet.

Wenqing sighed softly. His master was still angry, clearly. But at least he knew where he was now. There was no need to rush.

Steadying himself, Wenqing tightened his grip on the bundle of rainbow-colored spiritual veins. He looked toward the offering table one last time, then turned into a streak of white light and flew up from the tower.

——————

Venerable Wenqing’s descent this time had completely finished off the already half-ruined temple. What the vengeful spirits had spared, he had managed to destroy the rest of. Other than the high tower and Yun Jiao’s small residence, everything else had collapsed into rubble.

The three of them had spent an entire day hauling bricks and still hadn’t managed to clear out even one usable room. The old man had ended up sleeping against a broken wall last night. It was summer, so the weather wasn’t too bad—but one good rain, and they’d be left without shelter entirely. Even the training classes had to be suspended.

Yun Jiao glanced at the piles of shattered stone where the occasional page of a book peeked out, and her irritation rose. Those were supposed to be textbooks the old man would send to the Celestial Masters Hall! Now they were ruined. And paper cost money! She hadn’t even collected tuition yet!

“This can’t go on,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead to calm herself before turning to Bai Yu. “Old man, can’t you call a few people to help? Maybe ask Hall Master Xu—he’s got plenty of disciples. At least we can restore the study first.” Damage control was key. Worst case, she’d give them a two-percent tuition discount next session.

“I’d love to!” Bai Yu wiped the sweat from his brow. “But my messenger talisman was crushed under the study yesterday. I can’t contact anyone.” He could redraw one, but the cinnabar and yellow paper were all buried too, and even if they dug them out, they might be ruined.

Yun Jiao’s face darkened. She turned toward the source of their disaster—the immortal himself.

The Venerable, to his credit, had been quite diligent. No one knew where he’d slept, but he had been up at dawn hauling bricks with them, looking very contrite. Half the bricks cleared so far were his doing.

“Um… Venerable Wenqing, right? Could you maybe use some magic to get the books out of the study first?” Everything else could wait, but those books couldn’t stay buried.

“Uh…” Wenqing stiffened, torn between guilt and dread. “I’d like to, but Master…” He glanced nervously toward the tall tower in the distance. His master had strictly forbidden spell use.

Yun Jiao frowned slightly, lowering her voice to coax him. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Just do it.”

“I really can’t!” Wenqing shuddered visibly. The mere thought of defying Ye Yuan again was terrifying.

“…” Is the Patriarch really that scary?

Seeing she couldn’t persuade him, Yun Jiao sighed. “Then let’s just have the Patriarch come down and help himself.” They couldn’t spend their lives moving bricks—they were cultivators, not construction workers.

“Ah?! A-ah?” Wenqing nearly jumped. Call Master down? Are you insane?! He’d knelt outside the tower for three hours and another hour atop it before his master deigned to appear. For something as trivial as rebuilding? Not a chance.

But Yun Jiao turned to Bai Yu anyway. “Old man, call the Patriarch down.”

“Alright!” Bai Yu agreed instantly without thinking.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t—” Wenqing began, wanting to warn them. His master would never—

Bai Yu cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted instinctively, “Patriarch! The girl’s asking what you want for breakfast!”

The words had barely left his mouth when a white figure appeared before them, calm and cold as ever. Without glancing aside, Ye Yuan said evenly,

“Chive pockets, lean meat porridge, stir-fried noodles…”

He rattled off five or six dishes in a row, then added seriously, “Large portions. Extra spicy.”

Wenqing: “……”

No. Impossible. That couldn’t possibly be his master.

Master, please—tell me you’ve been possessed! If you have, just blink once!

(Д≡Д)

(End of Chapter)