The Beloved Master's Mad Dog Disciple - Chapter 21

She had terrified many.

The plan had changed!

According to Bo Xuenong’s original plan, she should have been pursuing a path to certain death. But Shen Yanting had just insisted that she must live.

She couldn’t blame Shen Yanting for disrupting her plan; she could only blame her own foolishness.

She had known the plot from Guan Caimei since the beginning, and she had even guessed that Shen Yanting had taken her own life to avoid killing Bo Xuenong. Shen Yanting’s desire for her to live had been right in front of her, yet she had still calculated a path to her own demise. She was not only foolish but also cruel. Bo Xuenong didn’t dare imagine how deeply she had wounded Shen Yanting’s heart by hesitating in the face of life.

Standing frozen, Bo Xuenong’s self-reproach intensified with each thought. She suddenly raised her hand and slapped herself across the face.

The sharp crack echoed loudly through Warm Moon Hall. Shen Yanting and the others turned to see the clear red mark on Bo Xuenong’s cheek and the thin trickle of bl00d at the corner of her mouth.

“Xuenong, you…”

Fu Yunqing rushed to Bo Xuenong’s side, her eyes wide with shock.

Shen Yanting’s usually calm gaze finally shifted, revealing surprise, heartache, and guilt. “Why did you hit yourself?”

Her voice remained cool and ethereal, yet a careful listener could detect a hint of urgency.

Bo Xuenong stared helplessly at her reddened palm, a wave of intense regret washing over her. Not regret for hitting herself, but frustration at failing to suppress her violent impulse in front of Shen Yanting. She should have hidden away to do it. As her remorse deepened, her thoughts grew increasingly chaotic, and she couldn’t find a suitable explanation for Shen Yanting.

Gazing at her reddening palm, she instinctively began rubbing it, a strange thought surfacing in her mind:

If… if the red mark disappears, could we pretend nothing happened?

Bo Xuenong rubbed harder and harder, but instead of fading, the red mark deepened.

I wish I could chop off my hand!

Shen Yanting couldn’t know what Bo Xuenong was thinking, but she could see her distress. Watching her nearly rub her palm raw, she quickly stepped forward and grasped Bo Xuenong’s right hand. “Nong’er.”

A faint coolness crept up Bo Xuenong’s fingertips, soothing her palms, which were red and burning from friction.

Bo Xuenong gradually calmed down, her rationality returning.

She struggled slightly, not only fearing that the tiny calluses on her hands might chafe Shen Yanting’s delicate skin, but also worried that the newly added heat might burn her. Yet she dared not exert too much force, afraid of injuring Shen Yanting in the tug-of-war. In truth, Bo Xuenong was timid and cowardly, almost terrified of anything related to Shen Yanting.

Sensing Bo Xuenong’s resistance, Shen Yanting covered the back of her hand with her other.

She didn’t need much force; a gentle pressure was enough to convey her resolve. Bo Xuenong immediately stilled.

Only when Bo Xuenong stopped fidgeting did Shen Yanting breathe a sigh of relief. Instead of pressing further, she steered the conversation elsewhere. “The Cultivation Journey is perilous, Nong’er. Remember to memorize the new talents listed in the Heavenly Talent Register.”

“Yes!” Bo Xuenong replied quickly.

Hearing Shen Yanting mention the Cultivation Journey again, Fu Yunqing couldn’t help but interject, “Senior Sister Shen, why don’t we leave early? I want to explore the area.”

Fu Yunqing’s innate talent was woefully lacking, and the Cultivation World was fraught with peril.

Since joining the Imperial Tranquility Sect, she had never once ventured down the mountain. She always yearned for the outside world, a longing that intensified as her life approached its end.

Fu Yunqing was like a caged bird within the Imperial Tranquility Sect, trapped not by physical bars but by her fear of the Cultivation World and her own weakness.

Ye Zhiyao and the others felt the same way.

Feng Yingbo had dared to descend the mountain years ago because she was different. She possessed both innate talent and formidable strength, and she had Shen Yanting’s encouragement.

Even Bo Xuenong, who had never left the mountain, knew that the Cultivation World revered the strong. While many disciples from major sects were taught to uphold justice and protect the weak, their compassion was conditional. They could afford to pity others, even to the point of excessive sympathy, only because they possessed absolute power—the strength to withstand any scheme or trap, and the resilience to overcome any crisis.

Fu Yunqing’s willingness to overlook Ye Zhiyao and the others’ past bullying showed her inherent goodness.

Kind-hearted, yet powerless.

Without a strong companion, death was certain.

Looking back, Fu Yunqing had always urged her and Feng Jin to inherit the Sect Leader’s position. To Fu Yunqing, going out to play was no different from courting death.

The Divine Pavilion existed to protect ordinary people in the mortal world. Because they were weak and had short lifespans, their only wish was for a hundred years of peace. Without the continuation of mortal lives, talented cultivators would never be born. Even the most powerful figures in the Cultivation World had once had mortal families. Protecting the mortal world was an unspoken agreement among cultivators.

As for cultivators, no matter how weak, they had to abide by the rules of the strong. From the moment they entered the Cultivation World, they were no longer protected. This was one of the reasons why major Sects screened disciples based on innate talent. Without talent and strength, entering the Cultivation World meant facing the constant threat of a miserable death—better to live a peaceful hundred years in the mortal world.

The Imperial Tranquility Sect’s policy of not selecting disciples based on talent did give more people opportunities, but it also trapped many.

Without the strength to descend the mountain, they could never truly experience the Cultivation World.

The only change was that instead of dying in a hundred years, they would die in a few hundred.

Bo Xuenong had never considered such things before. She rarely paid attention to anyone beyond Shen Yanting. But recently, perhaps because she could eavesdrop on their thoughts, witnessing their impending deaths, and discovering Feng Jin as a kindred spirit, she found herself paying more attention to those around Shen Yanting.

Bo Xuenong’s capacity for empathy was limited, but when Shen Yanting’s gaze toward Fu Yunqing softened with pity, she could sense a faint trace of compassion herself.

“Very well,” Shen Yanting nodded gently. “We’ll depart tomorrow.”

With Shen Yanting’s agreement, Bo Xuenong couldn’t resist adding, “Sect Leader, wherever you wish to go, we shall follow.”

Fu Yunqing’s eyes lit up instantly, the trembling sparks within them resembling a starry river. “Senior Sister Shen, see! I told you Xuenong and I are very close!”

“The Sect Leader speaks truly,” Bo Xuenong replied, suppressing her conscience. Fu Yunqing’s joy only intensified, and she immediately began discussing their destination with them.

As they chatted animatedly, debating where to go first, Feng Jin remained uncharacteristically silent.

Now regarding Feng Jin as a kindred spirit, Bo Xuenong couldn’t help but glance at her more often.

The moment her gaze drifted over, Feng Jin’s thoughts echoed in her mind.

Ah! How can Eldest Senior Sister hate herself so much?! She’s so ruthless even when striking herself! If that slap had landed on me, I’d definitely have been sent flying! Help! If she ever wanted to kill me, I can’t even imagine how gruesome my death would be. Martial Aunt Shen, please try to coax her a little more often! This behavior is truly terrifying!

Bo Xuenong hadn’t realized Feng Jin was still thinking about the slap she had given herself earlier. With belated awareness, she raised the back of her hand to wipe the bl00d from the corner of her mouth, a crude gesture that made Shen Yanting frown.

Oblivious to this, Bo Xuenong sighed inwardly at Feng Jin’s excessive timidity, while also puzzling over why Feng Jin’s thoughts always seemed to surface so abruptly.

Unlike Guan Caimei, whose thoughts could be heard simply by being nearby, Feng Jin’s thoughts would suddenly vanish and reappear, often fragmented and intermittent, yet occasionally crystal clear. At times, Bo Xuenong could even hear the voice Feng Jin referred to as the “Dead System.”

It seemed that Feng Jin’s thoughts surfaced whenever their gazes met. Could the key to accessing her thoughts lie in visual contact?

Bo Xuenong couldn’t resist staring at Feng Jin. Without betraying any emotion, Feng Jin tugged at Feng Yingbo’s sleeve, quickly moving behind her and flashing Bo Xuenong a smile.

The thoughts vanished again.

It didn’t seem to be about eye contact. What, then, was the trigger?

As Bo Xuenong pondered, her brow furrowed unconsciously. To Feng Jin, this appeared as disapproval, and the vanished thoughts resurfaced:

Heavens! Eldest Senior Sister, please don’t look at me like that! I’m scared! Look at Martial Aunt Shen instead—she’s so pretty!

Scared.

Bo Xuenong seemed to have found the key to hearing Feng Jin’s thoughts.