Jian Zhen stopped in his tracks, lifting his head in some surprise to look at the person beside him.
The remaining light of the setting sun spilled down, falling on Fu Changhuan’s shoulders. The immortal lowered his gaze to look at him; those eyes were tranquil and unruffled, like a snow mountain that had lain silent for ten thousand years, yet also carried a unique frost-cold sharpness.
Jian Zhen’s fair, tender little face went blank; he softly said: “You recognized me.”
Fu Changhuan said: “The water mirror displayed your true form for an instant, and besides, you carry the aura of my heart’s blood upon you. How could this venerable not recognize you?”
Jian Zhen suddenly understood.
Right.
It had eaten his heart’s blood.
So he obediently nodded and said: “I’m sorry.”
The young man, who looked youthful and tender, had a head of smooth hair; his head was slightly lowered, his fair neck like the finest mutton-fat jade in the world. His obedient appearance was gentle and harmless, still just like that little blade of grass, quiet and well-behaved, stirring one’s pity.
Fu Changhuan sighed inwardly and finally spoke: “Enough. This venerable is not blaming you; I was merely worried for your safety.”
Jian Zhen lifted his face, dark eyes gazing at him with sincerity: “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Fu Changhuan had long since resolved that this time he would properly educate him, to let it know how dangerous it was for a little grass newly come into the world to run around the Three Realms, but upon meeting his eyes, he could not bring himself to speak words of reproach.
The evening wind swept across the mountain ridge.
In the bamboo grove, bamboo leaves rustled down, soothing the heart like falling snow upon Spirit Mountain.
Fu Changhuan turned around and said lightly: “Enough. It is good that you are unharmed.”
Jian Zhen looked at him and said: “Immortal Venerable, are you not angry anymore?”
Fu Changhuan gave a barely perceptible nod.
One would have thought that Jian Zhen, having said this and realized the danger, would speak a few words of self-reflection.
But instead, the young man before him lifted his fair little face expectantly and said: “Then can you continue to take me to find the cafeteria? I’m really hungry.”
“……”
Fu Changhuan fell silent for a long while before saying: “Let us go.”
The two of them almost vanished into thin air on the spot; when they reappeared, they were already inside a spacious room. This room was wide and arranged with extreme care and taste, its dazzling furnishings all exceedingly precious.
Fu Changhuan said to him: “Rest here for a while. Someone will bring food.”
Jian Zhen did not look around; he simply obediently sat down on a chair and drank the water from the teapot, nodding: “Mm.”
Before long, someone promptly presented delicious dishes.
Jian Zhen had long been hungry, so after the server left he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.
Fu Changhuan asked him several questions, and Jian Zhen answered them all honestly, saying that upon waking he had been in the forest outside Tianshui City, only skipping over the matter of his whole body being sore.
After all, was he supposed to ask, Immortal Venerable, may I ask, was the one who dual-cultivated with me you?
That kind of question would really be the death of a grass; how could he possibly bring himself to ask it!!
After listening, Fu Changhuan set down the teacup in his hand. He pondered slightly for a moment before saying: “Enough. Truly, this is destiny.”
Jian Zhen swallowed the food in his mouth and asked in confusion: “What?”
Steam slowly rose from the tea, curling upward, casting Fu Changhuan’s cool face in an added layer of ethereal, illusory immortal air.
Fu Changhuan seemed to have made up his mind. He looked at him and said, “The ancient divine mountain, Wanmie Mountain, undergoes an anomaly once every ten million years. Each time it stirs, the spiritual energy between heaven and earth is completely inverted anew. Originally, Wanmie Mountain’s next eruption period should have been around a year from now, but two hundred years ago, this venerable sensed something amiss with Wanmie Mountain and went there to investigate. There, I picked you up.”
Jian Zhen was slightly startled: “Why would you pick me up?”
It was just an ordinary little blade of grass!
How could it have caught his eye?
Fu Changhuan seemed to see through his thoughts and let out a soft laugh, saying, “Any living being, so long as it is a being of Wanmie Mountain, will not be ordinary. What’s more, Wanmie Mountain has been barren for tens of millions of years, not a single blade of grass growing, with no living beings surviving. Shrouded by clouds and mist at the end of the Three Realms, yet it could nurture a single seed, this in itself is no ordinary matter.”
Jian Zhen’s hand holding the chopsticks paused, and his eyes stared into space, lost in thought.
Fu Changhuan thought he was worried about his own origins and was just about to speak to comfort him when he heard Jian Zhen say, “Then this mountain is so pitiful.”
As the words fell.
All around was quiet.
Fu Changhuan asked him, “Why do you say so?”
Night fell. Inside the room, the orange-yellow candlelight swayed slightly in the wind, its glow spilling over Jian Zhen’s shoulders. The youth’s profile was gentle like jade; his eyes were clean and mild. In those jet-black pupils, there was none of the yearning that worldly people feel upon hearing of a divine mountain, but instead pity, compassion, using the most benevolent heart to regard all things in the world.
Jian Zhen thought about it seriously and said softly, “I just think that since it’s an ancient divine mountain, it must have lived for a very, very long time. If for so long there have been no living beings on the mountain, then it must be very lonely.”
Fu Changhuan sat quietly on the chair and finally let out a light laugh. “If you put it that way, that’s not wrong either.”
It’s just that ordinary people all think ancient divine mountains are majestic and sacred.
No one has ever used such a way of thinking to consider it.
“If that’s the case, then it’s not surprising that you appeared outside Tianshui City near Wanmie Mountain.” Fu Changhuan glanced sideways at him, those eyes containing flecks of amusement. “Perhaps it wanted to see you.”
Jian Zhen jumped in fright, nearly unable to hold his chopsticks steady.
Fu Changhuan said, “Look at how scared you are. This venerable was merely joking, how did you take it seriously? That eternal divine mountain has lain silent for tens of millions of years and is the source of all things in the world. How could it really refuse to let go of you, a single little blade of grass?”
Only then did Jian Zhen let out a sigh of relief. That really scared the grass to death!
Wanmie Mountain has no living beings, nothing at all. If it went back there, wouldn’t it be bored to death?
That’s far more terrifying than staying in a flowerpot for several hundred years!!
The table was laden with the delivered delicacies. After Jian Zhen drank a few mouthfuls of porridge, he reached out to pick up a slice of roasted meat and dipped it into the wine. This piece of roasted meat seemed to be somewhat undercooked and was tinged with a trace of bloody smell.
Almost the moment it entered his mouth.
A wave of nausea surged abruptly from his stomach, so fast there was no time to react.
Jian Zhen suddenly stood up from the chair and hurried outside, retching. Aside from the piece of meat in his mouth, there was only dry heaving left. He breathed lightly, letting the feeling subside.
Fu Changhuan walked up behind him. His usually calm, unruffled face frowned slightly as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
Jian Zhen’s eyes were faintly red as he stood up and said, “Sorry, I dirtied the ground.”
“It’s fine.” Fu Changhuan pulled his hand over. “But in the days this venerable was away, did your body suffer any injury?”
Jian Zhen was pulled back into the room by him.
Yet with just a glance at the roasted meat on the table, he felt nauseous again.
Jian Zhen gently shook his head and said, “I might just have been starving too badly, that’s why it happened.”
Fu Changhuan led him into the inner chamber and had him sit on the soft couch, then sat down beside him. His voice was gentle yet brooked no refusal: “Place your hand on the table.”
Jian Zhen couldn’t argue with him and could only place his hand on the table.
The room fell silent.
Jian Zhen’s fair wrist was slender and long. Fu Changhuan’s fingers rested on his meridian, but his expression gradually grew serious. An invisible pressure spread soundlessly, filling the entire pavilion with a sense of danger. The aura of the Venerable of the Immortal Clan was not something ordinary people could withstand, especially when there was nothing to suppress it.
The person beside him had fingers that trembled slightly.
Fu Changhuan almost instantly came back to himself, the pressure abruptly withdrawing, and he returned to his cool, indifferent demeanor.
Jian Zhen asked somewhat uneasily, “Am I sick?”
Fu Changhuan said, “No.”
How could Jian Zhen believe that? If nothing were wrong, how could the Immortal Venerable wear such an expression? It was only clever, not truly stupid. “Really? Could it be that I’ve gotten some very serious illness? It’s, it’s okay, tell me. I can bear it.”
Seeing that he didn’t speak, Jian Zhen was almost scared to tears.
Only then did Fu Changhuan finally raise his head and say, “Do not be afraid. It’s not some serious illness.”
Jian Zhen was just about to let out a sigh of relief.
Fu Changhuan’s cool, tranquil eyes looked at him as he spoke, “You’re merely with child. And judging by the time, you should be about two and a half months pregnant.”
Jian Zhen: ??!!
W-what???!
A certain little blade of grass sitting by the table was utterly shocked!!
Fu Changhuan’s eyes darkened somewhat. His face remained calm, but a killing intent flickered at his fingertips as he continued to ask in an even tone, “Tell me, who bullied you.”
Jian Zhen panicked even more!
He truly had no memory at all of what happened that night. When he woke up, his head was splitting with pain and he couldn’t remember anything at all. He only remembered that he had definitely dual-cultivated with one of the two people who were in closed-door cultivation.
He knew this much, but had never dared to be sure who it was.
At this moment, seeing Fu Changhuan’s expression, Jian Zhen felt extremely uneasy. After hesitating for a moment, he finally spoke weakly, “That night… no, I-I mean, was it you?”
