Chapter 26:
Seclusion
MO TIANLIAO GAVE A START and looked at the tiger-skin rug curiously. It was brimming with spiritual energy and vitality, clearly a high-level spirit beast.
“What’s the matter?” Qingtong set down the book and pressed down on the tiger’s head with his feet.
Mo Tianliao snapped back to his senses. He looked around, but there was no sign of his senior. He couldn’t exactly ask his master either, as it’d seem like he was only here for his senior’s sake…
He took out the frost jade box. “This is the soul-condensing medicine that Shixiong went to great lengths to find during his training. He’s asked me to bring it to you.”
The tiger on the floor twitched his ears. Reassured by his junior’s integrity, he kept still on the ground.
Qingtong picked up the pretty Three Mulberry Soul-Condensing Fruit in the jade box and tapped on the tiger’s ear with his toe. The tiger blinked at the luscious spiritual fruit in his master’s hand. Was this really the same wrinkled fruit he’d brought back?
Qingtong examined the fist-sized fruit. It was juicy and bigger than his mouth, so he’d make a mess eating it. He set it aside.
“Shizun, it’s best to eat this fruit while it’s fresh,” Mo Tianliao coaxed him. The soul-condensing fruit was like clay; it was best consumed while it was still full of moisture, so that it could perfectly envelop the soul and form a more solid shell.
As he explained, Mo Tianliao took the fruit and cut it into slices with a small knife. He arranged them neatly on a white-jade plate before presenting them to his master.
The tiger gaped at Mo Tianliao’s cutting technique and obsequious behavior. Wasn’t this a little over-the-top?
Qingtong glanced between Mo Tianliao and the plate, and then he reached for a slice. The soft flesh of the fruit melted instantly in his mouth, and the sweet juice alleviated a little of the dull ache in his head as it went down his throat.
“Yanlie pays his respects to Shishu.” Dressed in a vibrantly colored wide-sleeved robe, Yanlie bowed in greeting, his voice measured and pleasing and carrying a hint of a smile.
Mo Tianliao rose and made way for him, while Qingtong gestured for Yanlie to dispense with the formalities.
“Greetings, Shixiong,” Mo Tianliao said.
The tiger under Qingtong’s foot chimed in. “Whurr…”
Yanlie returned the greetings with a smile, his pretty eyes curving into crescents as he patted the tiger on the head. “It’s about the two Qingyun Sect assholes you killed before. I’ve pushed the blame onto the demonic sect.”
Mo Tianliao recalled he’d used the demonic cultivator’s broadsword to kill that qi-refining cultivator from Qingyun Sect. What was his name again?
“He Xijiu was the legitimate grandson of Elder Yunsong of Qingyun Sect. Qingyun Sect didn’t say much once they learned what happened, but Elder Yunsong was furious.” Yanlie’s eyes betrayed his disdain for the elder. That dead guy had been an incompetent wastrel, but he’d been the apple of Elder Yunsong’s eye, just because he was his only descendant.
Cultivators had long lifespans, and before their ascension, they should ideally sever all worldly ties and attachments. Yanlie couldn’t understand why Yunsong was so insistent on preserving his bloodline.
Qingtong picked up another slice to nibble on. “It’s all about keeping up appearances.”
But whether it was about preserving his bloodline or keeping up appearances, Elder Yunsong had vowed not to let the matter rest. In fact, he was already on the way here, ostensibly to get to the truth of the matter and to pay Woyun Sect a courtesy visit.
“The matter at the foot of the mountain has been dealt with, but Elder Yunsong won’t be an easy one to handle. You’ll need to make preparations.” Yanlie took out a folding fan made with a red jade frame and silk leaves. “Yunsong’s elemental attribute is wood, so you might be at a disadvantage against him. This Skyburn Fan contains half a month’s worth of my spiritual energy. You can use it in case of emergency.”
Mo Tianliao frowned. Was this elder coming here just for a fight?
Even among the demonic sects, when the demon lords met, they wouldn’t immediately come to blows with one another. After all, brawling like street thugs was undignified and unfitting of their status, so they were usually polite to each other. How could the orthodox sects, who were always so particular about their reputation, communicate in such a barbaric way?
“No need.” Qingtong pushed the fan away. There were two copies of this fan, both of which were Yanlie’s spiritual treasures. “I’m not afraid of him.”
Water nurtured wood, so water-attribute Qingtong would be at a disadvantage if he went up against wood-attribute Yunsong. However, Qingtong’s element was more specifically ice, and he could simply impale his opponent with ice spikes.
Yanlie put away the fan without insisting on it. After discussing the arrangement for receiving Yunsong, he left.
“Shizun, what’s the current situation with Qingyun Sect?” Mo Tianliao remembered that Qingyun Sect had been the top sect before his death, and they had always acted like hypocrites. What had made them become so reckless?
“Three hundred years ago, Woyun Sect was too weak to contend with the Qingyun and Liuyun sects. But both sects suffered heavy casualties during the massacre at the Annihilation Valley, so they are getting desperate.” Qingtong scoffed and glanced at Mo Tianliao before lowering his eyes again.
Mo Tianliao was taken aback. He hadn’t expected the massacre to affect the balance of power among the orthodox sects. He wondered what it was like now among the unorthodox sects.
Dizzy from all the listening, the tiger yawned and rolled onto his side with limbs outstretched, revealing his white, plush belly fur. Qingtong’s fair feet shifted from the tiger’s head to that warm belly.
Having finished the fruit, Qingtong held his hand out for the maidservant to clean his fingers. He closed his eyes and dismissed them all with a wave of a hand. “I’m going into seclusion for a few days. You may go now.”
Mo Tianliao blinked. Again?
The gorgeous man in white rose, and the tiger got up as well, shaking his fur.
Frequent seclusion wasn’t the proper way to cultivate. Other than boosting one’s spiritual energy and mastering one’s technique, cultivating one’s mental state was equally important—and that required a cultivator to engage with the secular. “Shizun…” Mo Tianliao tried to remind Qingtong.
Cold, beautiful eyes turned to him, glistening with…sleepiness.
Mo Tianliao swallowed his words. “What’s your soul beast’s name?” he asked instead. Fierce spirit beasts without a blood pact couldn’t play freely with other people like Pawpaw did. Most of the time they’d tear people apart. He’d logically assumed that this tiger was the soul beast of his master that his senior had mentioned.
“Chubby.” Qingtong waved his hand impatiently and left for the inner chamber. The tiger, trotting ingratiatingly behind him, stumbled when he heard this name, and the door shut in his face.
Mo Tianliao walked over and patted the tiger on the head. A trauma in his childhood had turned him into a man who was always guarded against others, but he’d always had a soft spot for fluffy animals. “All right, Chubby. You can’t disturb Shizun when he’s in seclusion. Come with me. I’ll grill some meat for you.”
The tiger roared at him.
“Hush! Keep your voice down!” Mo Tianliao poked the tiger on the head and left the main hall.
Outside, the warm sunlight shone down on Qingning Palace’s jade steps, making them look inviting. Mo Tianliao sat down and patted the spot beside him. “Come on, Chubby. Let’s chat.”
The tiger pounced on him, planting his front paws on his shoulders, and snarled into his ear. Don’t call me Chubby!
Mo Tianliao dug into his ear. “Fine, fine. I know you’re happy. Tell me, what does Shizun usually do when he’s in seclusion?” The seclusion of the average person lasted anywhere from roughly half a month to a few years, but his master’s seclusion took only two to three days.
The tiger scratched his neck with his hind paw. Not telling you. That’s what you get for being rude to your shixiong.
“The Three Mulberry Soul-Condensing Fruit needs to be further processed after consumption, but I’m not exactly sure how…” Mo Tianliao frowned. Heaven-grade spiritual fruits would usually produce some reactions after being eaten. But he’d never had one before, so he didn’t know if there were any adverse effects.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt that there was something off about his master’s hasty retreat. He bolted to his feet, startling the tiger, who’d started licking his paw.
“Be good and stay quiet, Chubby. I’m worried about Shizun. I’m going to check on him.” Mo Tianliao patted the tiger—spirit beasts could understand human speech.
Mo Tianliao walked softly to the doors of the inner chamber. After a moment’s thought, he withdrew his divine soul from his limbs. Crouching behind him, the tiger was astounded to find Mo Tianliao’s aura growing weaker and weaker until it practically disappeared altogether.
Mo Tianliao pushed the doors open with his stiff wooden hand and shuffled in. He could have condensed his divine soul in his head if he hadn’t needed to walk. That way, he would appear as a tree to any cultivator. It was the perfect way to hide his presence.
It was quiet, and the white curtains were tightly drawn, dimming the room. A person lay quietly on the bed in the middle.
Mo Tianliao curled his stiff lips into a smile. He knew it! His master was sleeping! He approached slowly, his footsteps silenced by the soft cushions on the floor. The tiger followed him in and squeezed his way to the bed.
Mo Tianliao froze when he got a clear look at the face of the person on the bed. Cold and flawless, it looked like it was sculpted out of jade. Thin lips pressed lightly together, slightly pink and moist from the fruit he’d been eating. He looked even more ethereal than usual…because his long ink-black hair was now white.
Normally a person with silver hair would appear aged, but with his white hair, Qingtong was even more attractive. It wasn’t the frosty gray of old age, but a soft, creamy white that somehow seemed all too natural and fitting for this exquisite man.
Something clicked just below the surface in Mo Tianliao’s mind. He stared in a daze for a long time—then at last he reached out with trembling fingers to touch Qingtong’s face, only to be thwarted by the tiger.