“It wouldn’t be fast enough to use only my palm,” said Shen Qingqiu. “If we stay like this for a moment, once this master’s meridians finish circulating a couple of times, your wounds will be about healed as well. It will be far more effective than any medicine.”
Luo Binghe thrashed about in his arms like a little hedgehog. “Shizun! Shizun! I’m covered in medicine!”
The friction from his struggling incited a fire within Shen Qingqiu—an emotional fire. He gave Luo Binghe’s behind a firm warning slap. “What are you squirming for?” he asked, manner dignified. I’m treating you—be good!
After that slap, which was neither light nor hard, Luo Binghe stiffened into a stick. A stick being roasted over an open flame, at that, long-suffering and tortured.
“Shizun…this isn’t appropriate…” said the stick. “Let—let me go…”
“Luo Binghe, if you were Yingying, this master would obviously never do something like this, even if you weren’t squirming about so much,” said Shen Qingqiu. “But you aren’t a young maiden. Are you afraid this master will eat you?”
At this, Luo Binghe indeed stopped squirming, though his point of focus had strayed. “Shizun is saying that he…he wouldn’t do this to Ning-shijie?”
If the person injured that night had been Ning Yingying, even if you’d given Shen Qingqiu a hundred shots of courage, he would still never have dared to use this method of treatment. Unfortunately, he couldn’t loudly proclaim his shining purity and perfect sincerity to the entire world. “Of course not,” he said resolutely.
Then Luo Binghe said, “Then…if it weren’t Ning-shijie, but another disciple who had been injured, would Shizun—would Shizun do this?”
Shen Qingqiu paused. “What nonsense is going through your head? Calm your mind and breathe.”
The hedgehog in his arms finally settled down.
Satisfied, Shen Qingqiu picked the most comfortable position he could and hooked his chin over Luo Binghe’s head. Freeing up one hand, he used it to trace his disciple’s spine, gently stroking it over and over in a pacifying manner.
He didn’t get to be comfortable for very long when holding Luo Binghe began to grow difficult. The youth was boiling hot, as if he’d just emerged from a steamer. The sweat from his upper body had practically soaked through Shen Qingqiu’s inner robe.
Shen Qingqiu was astounded. Surely the spiritual energy he’d sent Luo Binghe hadn’t managed to give him a fever!
He was about to yank Luo Binghe’s face up to study his complexion, but what he got was a handful of fine sweat, slick and slippery. The body within his embrace suddenly began to thrash with all its might. Like a great white fish out of water, Luo Binghe slid out of his arms and fell off the bamboo couch with a crash.
It didn’t stop there. What followed was a terrible-sounding clang—then a bang!
Luo Binghe had kicked over the stool and knocked his head into the screen. Then, like he’d gone mad, he crawled and rolled to his feet, and rushed out of the Bamboo House.
At the end of that whole spectacle, Shen Qingqiu was left frozen stiff on the couch. For a while he sat there in utter bewilderment before he finally defrosted, jumping off the couch and chasing after him. “Luo Binghe?!”
Luo Binghe had already sprinted several meters ahead. As he ran, he yelled, “I’m sorry, Shizun!”
Shen Qingqiu’s expression was dark with dismay. “What are you sorry for? Get back here already!”
On the night wind came a distant, teary voice. “I can’t! Shizun, I can’t see you right now! Don’t come near me—absolutely don’t come near!”
What on earth had possessed him?!
Logically, Shen Qingqiu’s cultivation outstripped Luo Binghe’s by quite a bit, and he was categorically faster as well, but whether due to an adrenaline rush on Luo Binghe’s part or some other factor, he simply couldn’t catch up.
The two of them dashed along the roads while shouting at each other. Within a few moments, the entirety of Qing Jing Peak had been jolted awake. Lamps everywhere lit up in twos and threes: a herd of disciples carrying lights flocked together in great numbers.
“Who’s yelling so loudly this late at night, disturbing the tranquility of Qing Jing Peak?”
“That voice sounds like Shizun!”
“Nonsense! How could Shizun do something so uncouth—”
That last voice had yet to finish when Shen Qingqiu flew past them like a gust of wind, face expressionless. For a moment, everything was utterly silent.
Shen Qingqiu worried that with Luo Binghe’s mindless running, he’d fail to watch his step and wind up falling off a cliff. He took a deep breath and yelled, “Ming Fan! Stop him! Stop Luo Binghe!”
Ming Fan had just thrown on an outer robe and was walking over with a lantern. He stared at the sight and gasped. That bastard Luo Binghe was sprinting away, full of terror, while Shizun chased after him, roiling with murderous intent—
This scene! Everything had finally returned to normal!
Ecstatic, he yelled, “Shizun! This disciple will assist you! We’ll grab that brat and teach him a lesson! Come, my shidi, get him!”
While disciples rushed over from all directions, Shen Qingqiu finally caught up to the wild, runaway horse that was Luo Binghe. But before he could grab the kid by the collar and pick him up, Luo Binghe refused to submit and threw himself forward with all his might—
With a splash, water sprayed everywhere. Luo Binghe had hurled himself into a clear, tranquil pond on Qing Jing Peak.
With this action, he seemed to have hurled himself into clear-headedness. His entire body now soaked in cold water, he finally stopped moving.
“Calmed down yet?” asked Shen Qingqiu.
Luo Binghe ducked his head down hard, then raised both hands, covering his face with them.
Meanwhile, Ming Fan was so moved that tears were streaming down his face. A Luo Binghe drenched in cold water, shivering and looking like he’d been viciously beaten. A Shizun with his arms crossed, standing across from him with a chilly smile. Ah, such a warm, familiar scene—ah, such a nostalgic sight!
A group of disciples surrounded Luo Binghe while whispering to one another. Luo Binghe was still within the pool, silent with his hands over his face.
As a girl, Ning Yingying always needed more time to dress and comb her hair, so she arrived late. The moment she did, she was greeted with this sight and she blurted out in shock, “A-Luo! Why…why are you sitting in a pond? Who was bullying you this time? Shizun, what’s happening here?”
Shen Qingqiu was silent before he said coldly, “This master also wishes to know exactly ‘who’ is at fault, and ‘what’ is going on.”
Luo Binghe shook his head, face still covered. “No one’s to blame. And nothing happened.”
Shen Qingqiu stood at the edge of the pond for a while, then suddenly sighed. “Get up. What are you doing, still sitting in there?”
Luo Binghe continued to shake his head. “No, Shizun. I’ll stay here. Just let me stay here for a while…”
It was winter and it was freezing. There might not have been snow, but if Luo Binghe was allowed to stay in the icy pond like this for a whole night… Did he want to die?
Shen Qingqiu lifted his hem, ready to enter the water and pull him out.
“Shizun, don’t come in!” Luo Binghe said hastily. “The water is cold and dirty—don’t get wet…”
Shen Qingqiu had already waded through the water to his side, crossing the distance of three steps in two. There he stared down at him severely.
Luo Binghe’s head drooped even further. He didn’t dare meet Shen Qingqiu’s eyes and instead sank himself deeper into the water.
“Do you need this master to help you out too?” asked Shen Qingqiu.
Luo Binghe was silent, then said, “Shizun, I—just let me stay here by myself!”
Shen Qingqiu was at the end of his rope with this kid. He steadied himself, then suddenly turned to the Qing Jing Peak disciples who were watching them. “What are you looking at?” he asked sternly. “Disperse and return to your rooms. Go to sleep.”
The group jostled back and forth, but still they loitered, unwilling to leave.
“You’ll wake at three for morning classes,” said Shen Qingqiu. “Anyone who’s late will be copying scrolls a hundred times.”
Three! But it was already past one in the morning! Copying scrolls—and a hundred times!
The moment these words left his mouth, the shore of the pond emptied of people like clouds swept away by the wind.
Once Shen Qingqiu was sure no one was watching, he turned around and stooped down, moving to lift Luo Binghe under his back and the crook of his knees.
Realizing what he wanted to do, Luo Binghe acted increasingly like a great white fish, hiding and splashing within the water. “Shizun! Shizun, don’t do this—don’t do this!”
Shen Qingqiu was sprayed with a face full of water; his robes were thoroughly drenched. He wiped at his face with a sleeve. “Haven’t you kicked up enough nonsense tonight?”
When Luo Binghe no longer dared move, Shen Qingqiu steeled himself and lifted Luo Binghe up and into his arms.
A little heavy. Having muttered that in his heart, Shen Qingqiu carried Luo Binghe back in the direction of the Bamboo House.
Halfway there, Luo Binghe suddenly spoke from his arms with a pained expression: “Shizun, I…I’ll return to the woodshed.”
“Luo Binghe! Exactly what has gotten into you tonight?” Shen Qingqiu said severely. “Being all timid and evasive, even running away with all your might! An outsider who didn’t know what was going on would imagine that this master had done something unforgivable to you!”