Shen Qi had originally intended only to put on a show.
He deliberately slid down from the pillow, pressing his body against the sleeve of Mu Congyun’s robe that had fallen beside him, his back flush against the other’s form.
Mu Congyun stirred, opening his eyes to glance at him.
He likely wanted to move aside, but couldn’t free his sleeve, so in the end, he simply ignored him and continued meditating.
A smirk curled Shen Qi’s lips as he buried his face in the fabric.
The crisp, clean scent enveloped him, and the warmth from their close contact seeped into him, unexpectedly lulling him into a rare sense of peace.
This feeling was strange to him.
He had traversed the Western Realms, crossed the Sea of Corrosive Mists, and witnessed all manner of human suffering-yet all he had ever felt was weariness and exhaustion.
Never had he experienced such tranquility.
Though he often teased Mu Congyun for being like a rabbit, sometimes he thought the man was more like a tree.
Unmoved by external forces, undisturbed by the world.
Growing quietly and purely, untouched by scorching summers or bitter winters.
Mu Congyun was a person entirely unlike him.
And unlike anyone else he had ever met.
Clutching the sleeve, Shen Qi surrendered to the drowsiness and sank into sleep.
Restful slumber was rare for him.
His dreams were usually haunted by unpleasant, inescapable memories from the past.
This time was no different.
In the dream, he was back in the pitch-black depths of the Withering Abyss.
His frail body, after having its tendons severed and marrow scraped out, lay motionless, sinking deep into the foul, rotting mire.
The thick, stinking sludge-who knew how many corpses it had swallowed-clung to his draconic form, seeping into every crevice between his scales.
Filthy, repulsive insects crawled over his decaying flesh, burrowing into his wounds, taking root, breeding, filling the air with the stench of rot.
Shen Qi knew he was dreaming, yet he couldn’t wake.
Just as he had been unable to escape during those hundred years of imprisonment.
Trapped in the muck, he watched himself rot.
Scales fell away, flesh festered, exposing the jagged, crimson bones beneath.
They called him the Heaven-Deficient Dragon, weak and short-lived-yet his life was stubbornly tenacious.
Even this abyss of filth couldn’t grind him to dust.
The mortal world said good men died young, while scourges lived for centuries.
Perhaps he was born to be a scourge.
That was why, after a century in the Withering Abyss, he hadn’t died—but crawled out alive.
Destined to laugh as his enemies died in fear and despair.
Hatred seethed endlessly within him.
The dragon trapped in the mire opened his maw and roared in defiance.
His skeletal tail lashed, splattering fetid mud in all directions.
Mu Congyun, deep in meditation, suddenly felt his sleeve yanked taut, the force nearly tearing the sturdy robe.
*
“Shen Qi?”
Alarmed, he turned to look and saw Shen Qi’s brows tightly furrowed, his pale lips pressed into a thin line, teeth clenched, his entire body trembling faintly.
He called his name twice more, but Shen Qi showed no signs of waking.
Clearly ensnared in a nightmare.
Mu Congyun pressed his palm to Shen Qi’s forehead, channeling a steady stream of gentle spiritual energy as he softly recited the eart- Cleansing Mantra:
“The Great Dao is formless, yet it births heaven and earth;
The Great Dao is emotionless, yet it moves the sun and moon;
The Great Dao is nameless, yet it nurtures all things…”
His voice was cool by nature, his tone often flat, making his speech seem detached and untouchable.
But now, as the calming words flowed quietly, there was an uncharacteristic softness in his voice—a rare glimpse of tenderness.
Lost in his inner demons, Shen Qi was oblivious to the outside world, yet he heard the sound of growth.
From the foul-smelling mire, a vibrant green sapling emerged.
It pushed through the sludge inch by inch, and in mere moments, its branches spread across the abyss of decay.
Its sturdy roots dug deep into the mud, while its lush branches swayed gently in the windless abyss. Leafless twigs bore clusters of tender red buds.
The stench of rot dissipated, replaced by the crisp scent of greenery and a faint, sweet floral fragrance.
His boiling hatred gradually subsided as he looked up at the tree laden with blossoms overhead.
In the lightless abyss, the tree emitted a soft glow.
The buds burst open all at once, filling the air with an increasingly rich sweetness.
The weight of countless blossoms bent the branches low, and a pale pink peach blossom drifted down, landing on his slender dragon snout.
Shen Qi parted his jaws, taking the blossom into his mouth and chewing it thoughtfully.
The haze in his eyes slowly cleared.
Gazing at the flourishing branches above, he recalled a peach tree he had once seen in his previous life, standing in the Western Wastes devoured by the Corrosive Mist Sea.
Amid the endless gray fog, its blossoms burned like fire.
It was the only glimpse of human beauty he had ever witnessed.
“…When emptiness is emptied, even emptiness ceases to be; when nothingness is negated, serenity reigns eternal.”
A low murmur reached his ears. Shen Qi opened his eyes to meet Mu Congyun’s concerned gaze.
“Awake?”
Shen Qi’s mood soured again, but this time, he didn’t feel like killing—just weary and sluggish, unwilling to move.
Lowering his lashes to hide the turbulent darkness in his eyes, he murmured, “I had a nightmare.”
“It was just a dream,” Mu Congyun reassured him gently, patting his back.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“In the dream, my tendons were severed, and I was thrown into a bottomless abyss with no living thing. No one came to save me. Day after day, I watched insects gnaw at my flesh, watched myself rot bit by bit, turning into a monster…”
He spoke half-truths, trembling as he buried his face against Mu Congyun’s leg.
Then, peeking up with one eye, he asked softly, “If it were real… would you come for me, Shixiong?”
Mu Congyun didn’t answer immediately, lost in thought.
The undercurrents in Shen Qi’s eyes churned violently, his corrupted energy gathering swiftly at his fingertips.
If you, too, are no different from the rest-
“How could I ever let that happen to you?”
After carefully considering every possibility, Mu Congyun answered solemnly, “If you’ve done no wrong, I would never allow anyone to harm you or let you suffer such a fate.”
He assumed Shen Qi’s insecurity stemmed from years of hardship and mistreatment during his wandering days.
Indulgently, he patted his head.
“I’ll always protect you.”
I’ll always protect you.
Whether sincere or not, it was the first time anyone had ever said such words to him.
Even though he was no longer the frail young dragon who needed protection.
The energy at his fingertips receded.
Shen Qi clutched Mu Congyun’s hand, nuzzling into his palm like an affectionate beast, his voice soft and sweet.
“Shixiong must keep your promise.”
If you dare break it… I’ll have no choice but to kill you.
Mu Congyun remained oblivious to the undercurrents.
His heart softened under the gaze of those damp black eyes, and he couldn’t resist gently pinching the other’s cheek, his lips unconsciously curving upward.
“Mm.”
He would protect his junior brothers and sisters, and naturally, he would protect Shen Qi too.
But Shen Qi was different from Jin Li and the others.
He was solitary, introverted, fragile—just like his former self.
He was always willing to indulge him a little more.
Sensing the warmth in Mu Congyun’s eyes, Shen Qi tightened his embrace around the other’s arm and seized the moment to make a request
in a low voice: “Will you stay with me tonight, senior brother? I’m scared.”
Mu Congyun hesitated, his expression conflicted.
Sharing a bed was far too intimate, crossing the boundaries of his comfort zone.
But this was Shen Qi… and he had just had a nightmare.
Ah…
Suppressing the faint resistance in his heart, Mu Congyun removed his outer robe and lay down beside Shen Qi, tucking him in and patting the covers.
“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
Shen Qi pressed his lips together and offered a faint smile, leaning in to wrap his arms tightly around Mu Congyun’s waist, exhaling contentedly.
He loved this sensation-bodies pressed close, warmth mingling.
If only the clothes weren’t in the way.
Nuzzling against the exposed hollow of Mu Congyun’s neck, Shen Qi closed his eyes in satisfaction.
Mu Congyun lay stiffly, quietly sighing to himself.
Early the next morning, Mu Congyun took Shen Qi and Jin Li to the Hall of Obscured Stars to bid farewell to their master, proposing to bring Shen Qi along on their journey.
He had carefully considered it-aside from safety concerns, bringing Shen Qi had its advantages.
Shen Qi was too solitary, too guarded, willing only to be close to him.
That wasn’t healthy.
Taking him out to see the world might help him change.
Moreover, Shen Qi had spent his entire life in Nanhuai Town, never having the chance to experience the vast world.
This journey would broaden his horizons and aid his cultivation.
Mu Congyun had prepared all his arguments to persuade their master.
But to his surprise, Xie Cifeng merely glanced at Shen Qi and agreed without further questions.
“Remember to prioritize your safety above all else on this journey.”
Exchanging a knowing look with Shen Qi, Mu Congyun solemnly nodded.
After receiving their master’s instructions, the three set off for the Peak of Martial Slaughter to fetch Jiang Lin.
Xie Cifeng watched the three figures recede into the distance, his gaze lingering on Mu Congyun and Shen Qi.
With a grave expression, he performed a divination, yet after a long while, nothing became clear.
The stars’ paths intertwined, obscured by clouds and mist-fortune and misfortune remained uncertain.