Chapter 67#

Prying Open His Jaws#

Snow Realm, Tianlin Mine

Early the next morning, the secret art users of the Grand Compassion Hall opened their doors, and Su Ruhui led twenty to thirty people to the Tianlin Mine. Upon arrival, they found that this dilapidated place was half-buried in snow, and it had to be cleared before it could be used. Su Ruhui surveyed the terrain, preparing to draw a star map. Everyone wielded shovels, diligently clearing the snow. Many helpers also came from the Elysium Pavilion. Han Ye didn’t come, saying he was recuperating from injuries at the Elysium Pavilion. Looking around the abandoned mine, half of the dilapidated towers were buried in the white snow, and the exposed parts, weathered by wind, frost, rain, and snow, were as gray as withered old men. Su Ruhui finished observing the surrounding terrain, took out his brush and ink, and looked for a place to draw.

Climbing the stairs, he entered the inner hall of the tower. Distant memories assailed him like white butterflies. His gaze fell on the empty space in the center, where Sang Chiyu had once punched him.

Sang Chiyu carried in a wooden box, organizing the miscellaneous items in the tower into one place. He looked up and saw Su Ruhui spreading Xuan paper on the ground, arranging his brush and ink, kneeling with his butt sticking out, drawing. This posture was truly undignified. Sang Chiyu averted his eyes and asked, “Have you found the person who designed to expel you from the Secret Sect?”

“No, Senior Sister has been investigating for several years, but she can’t even touch the hem of that person’s clothes. Later, we even began to doubt whether our initial guess was wrong, and that such a person didn’t exist at all.” Su Ruhui propped his chin, saying, “However… I have a bold guess now. Brother Sang, let me ask you a question, what kind of person do you think your master, my uncle, is?”

Sang Chiyu’s brow furrowed slightly, and he shook his head.

“He’s very complex.”

“Rather than complex, it’s more like unfathomable,” Su Ruhui said. “My uncle, who has held power for decades, single-handedly guards Biandu and controls the forty-eight states. In his early years, he implemented strict laws, establishing three classes of people—good citizens, treacherous citizens, and rebellious citizens—since then, Black Street has regarded him as a mortal enemy. Now, the demon race in the Snow Realm is coveting, and refugees are fleeing to the Great Wall. He rejects the people, chilling their hearts. If he is solely dedicated to stabilizing Zhongzhou, yet as the Grand Master of the Tantai clan, he remains unmarried and childless. With no heir, the hearts of the forty-eight states are restless, and aristocratic families are eyeing his power, covetously. Some say he doesn’t marry because he’s impotent, but as far as I know, my uncle should be quite capable.”

Sang Chiyu: “…”

Su Ruhui scratched his head, “You remember what I told you, right? My senior sister committed insubordination and… well, you know. Given my senior sister’s personality, if my uncle wasn’t capable, she would have abandoned him like a worn-out shoe long ago.”

Sang Chiyu didn’t want to hear his crude jokes anymore and said, “You think Tantai Jing deliberately chose to have no heirs?”

“Exactly,” Su Ruhui said, “Back then, my maternal family wanted to adopt me as their heir. Although I was determined to resist, I was just a young man after all. The Tantai family had centuries of foundation, and if they were truly determined, I would have no way to escape. To avoid being adopted, besides self-castration, there was only one other way.”

Sang Chiyu’s brow furrowed tighter and tighter, “Your future was ruined, with no place to stand in the aristocratic Secret Sect.”

Su Ruhui nodded.

“That statement doesn’t hold water,” Sang Chiyu said, “If he wanted your future ruined, he wouldn’t have let you take the Star Gazing exam.”

Su Ruhui shook his head and said, “He wanted my future ruined, but he didn’t want me to lose my life because of it. To make the Tantai clan abandon me, I had to cause a huge mess. But if I caused a huge mess, neither the Tantai clan nor my uncle could protect me. So, besides the Tantai clan and him, who else could protect me?”

Sang Chiyu understood, and whispered, “Black Street.”

“Exactly,” Su Ruhui said, “The Grand Examination of the Star Gazing Department helped me gain fame throughout the world. Everyone knew I was proficient in the Queen’s Star Array. That day, I escaped Biandu and wandered for many days. When I was at my wit’s end, the Elysium Pavilion brought me into Black Street.” Su Ruhui stroked his chin, pondering, “It’s strange, why would my uncle go to such lengths to ensure the Tantai family has no successor?”

Sang Chiyu’s expression was calm, seemingly unconcerned.

Su Ruhui walked over and poked him, “Aren’t you curious about your master’s purpose in doing all this?”

“Why should I be curious?” Sang Chiyu asked.

“He’s your master,” Su Ruhui said. “By the way, I said my senior sister defiled him, and you didn’t react at all. A person has one mouth, for eating and talking. Do you know what kind of news spreads the fastest?” Su Ruhui slapped his thigh, “It’s this kind of scandalous and private news, like ’the Grand Master was raped by a female subordinate.’ What’s more, it’s someone close to you, and you’re not curious at all?”

Sang Chiyu said indifferently, “It’s boring.”

Su Ruhui could tell he really wasn’t interested. Sang Chiyu had always been like this since he was a child. Ordinary people always had one or two things they loved, most people enjoyed eating, drinking, and having fun, but Sang Chiyu was different. Su Ruhui had never seen him interested in anything. Tantai Jing was aloof and kept people at a distance because he was the high and mighty Grand Master, with a transcendent status that no one could compare to. Sang Chiyu kept people at a distance because he found them boring.

Su Ruhui sighed inwardly. Tantai Jing taught him self-discipline and how to wield a saber, but he didn’t teach him how to make himself happy.

“Brother Sang,” Su Ruhui smiled, “I’ll take you out to have some fun sometime. You’re a young man, but you act like a miserable old man all day. I need to help you find some fun.” Su Ruhui pondered what kind of fun would suit Sang Chiyu. “Have you ever tried horse fighting? It’s incredibly exciting.”

Sang Chiyu shook his head.

“Exactly,” Su Ruhui slapped Sang Chiyu’s shoulder, “People should be brave enough to try many possibilities. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the horse fighting arena in Black Street.”

“I think you misunderstood me.” Sang Chiyu looked up at him, his gaze calm. “Your lives have clear goals. You study and practice martial arts to establish a family and career, and you have children to pass on the family line. But I am different, Su Ruhui. I don’t know, I seem to have no goals. Family business, family line—the things you cherish seem meaningless to me.”

Meaningless, so it didn’t matter whether he did them or not. Sang Chiyu used to obey Tantai Jing’s orders because he didn’t know what else he could do besides what Tantai Jing assigned him. He was just such a person with no ambitions. He knew many people thought he was eccentric and self-willed, not because he thought highly of himself, but because he found talking and playing with those people meaningless. He often spent a lot of time thinking about what he should do next, and in the end, thinking about what to do became the thing he did most often.

“I see,” Su Ruhui observed him, “Brother Sang, you are a person who pursues spiritual pleasure. The mundane world can no longer satisfy you.”

Sang Chiyu: “…”

“Then do you find me boring?” Su Ruhui said, “Oh no, I’m so vulgar, my mind is full of rice balls, roujiamo, plum juice, and you.”

Boring, Sang Chiyu wanted to say. The most boring person in the world was Su Ruhui, always saying annoying things, not only boring but also irritating, chattering like a sparrow. But even if Su Ruhui was utterly boring and extremely annoying, Sang Chiyu still wanted to see him, to hear him babble on, talking about his messy things. Feeling annoyed by him and feeling happy because of him didn’t seem to conflict.

Sang Chiyu closed the wooden box. Sunlight streamed through the skylight, dancing like bees on Su Ruhui’s fingertips.

Looking at that inch of glowing fingertip, Sang Chiyu suddenly called out to him, “Su Ruhui.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to kiss?”

Su Ruhui: “…”

Su Ruhui’s mind exploded with a bang. He almost thought he had misheard. He looked up at Sang Chiyu. This guy was quiet and composed, as if the question just now hadn’t come from him.

“Is it just lips touching lips, or with tongue?” Su Ruhui instinctively asked.

Sang Chiyu was bold, but Su Ruhui was even bolder than him.

Indeed, Sang Chiyu showed no expression on the surface, but his ears were already red. Su Ruhui was about to tease him when he suddenly saw his ears disappear, and two fluffy, pointed ears popped out from the top of his head as if by magic. Their fur was pure white, and the roots of his ears were crimson, as if smeared with rouge.

Su Ruhui was stunned.

Sang Chiyu apparently didn’t know his disguise was betrayed by his ears. Those crimson ear roots were the best evidence of his shyness. He wrapped his arms around Su Ruhui’s waist, leaned forward, and the cool scent of cedar enveloped the stunned Su Ruhui.

“Not concentrating,” he whispered, bringing Su Ruhui back to his senses.

Then he closed his eyes and kissed Su Ruhui’s lips.

Their breaths mingled, each feeling the other’s warmth. Sang Chiyu thought, Su Ruhui was boring, but kissing Su Ruhui was not boring.

This was very meaningful.

Sang Chiyu pried open Su Ruhui’s jaws.

The Grand Court Assembly was imminent. Jiang Xueya was arranging for the Pure Land secret art users to be stationed in the palace city. These secret art users would take turns maintaining the “Pure Land” for twelve hours, covering the entire palace city to ensure no disturbances occurred within. Starting today, no secret arts could be used within the palace city, and officials attending court could not use formless dharma to be lazy; they all had to honestly walk from the palace gate to the North Star Hall.

The subordinates presented the list to Jiang Xueya. Jiang Xueya checked it off and then took another list. Flipping through page after page, Jiang Huaicang had been imprisoned and severely tortured, revealing many aristocratic families and officials who colluded with demons and betrayed their race. The people on the list were all important court officials: the Vice Minister of Military Affairs, the Imperial Astronomical Official, and the Commander of the Military Police, all were included. If this was the situation at the center, let alone the aristocratic families in various states. The Yan family of Youzhou had already defected to evil, waiting for the Secret Sect to fall apart to rise in chaos and contend for the Great Jing.

This was a serious matter. Jiang Xueya couldn’t decide, so she took the list to Tantai Jing. She walked through the thick snow, turned through the winding corridors, and arrived at the Bright Moon Study, hidden by withered trees. Tantai Jing sat upright behind the moon-shaped window, brewing tea. Jiang Xueya presented the list, asking him to review it. He glanced at it briefly, his expression calm, as if he had expected it. He raised his hand and summoned a medical officer.

“Is the Grand Master feeling unwell?”

Jiang Xueya was puzzled, but then saw the medical officer step forward, invite her to sit down, and take her pulse. The medical officer lowered his eyes and carefully felt her pulse for a long time, then suddenly his eyes widened, whispered a few words to the Grand Master, and respectfully withdrew.

Tantai Jing’s brow furrowed into a deep line. Jiang Xueya saw his face was even colder than usual, and couldn’t help but wonder, “Do I have an incurable disease?”

“Signs of pregnancy, two months visible in the pulse,” Tantai Jing said, “Jiang Xueya, you are pregnant.”

Jiang Xueya was stunned for a long time, then blurted out a single word, “Huh?”

Counting carefully, it had indeed been two full months since their last intimacy. No wonder Tantai Jing suddenly summoned someone to take her pulse. One shot, and it hit the mark. This luck was a bit too good. Jiang Xueya touched her flat stomach. She felt nothing. Was she actually pregnant?

She smiled and cupped her hands to Tantai Jing, “Grand Master, you are still strong in your old age. Congratulations.”

The medical officer who had just left bowed and re-entered, this time carrying a black lacquer, mother-of-pearl, and rosewood tray, on which sat a bowl of dark, murky medicine. The medical officer placed the tray in front of Jiang Xueya and then silently withdrew again. Jiang Xueya looked at the medicine and asked, “This is…”

“Abortion.” Tantai Jing said concisely.

The moment his voice fell, the study seemed to be choked, and the surroundings fell silent.