The Beloved Master's Mad Dog Disciple - Chapter 50

Shen Yanting’s words hung in the air like a spell, freezing Bo Xuenong and Si Xianling in place. One stood with a stiff back, lost in thought, while the other, clinging to the young woman’s arm, stared blankly ahead.

The Porcelain Doll’s gaze drifted involuntarily to Si Xianling’s hand, tightly gripping Bo Xuenong’s arm as it swayed. If she remembered correctly, Bo Xuenong and Si Xianling had only met the day before, yet they were already so close. Truly, Si Xianling is something else, she thought.

Shen Yanting and Si Xianling were as different as night and day.

Having grown up navigating the complex dynamics of numerous elders, Si Xianling was adept at handling people. She was skilled at feigning helplessness and playing the victim, able to grasp each person’s unique personality and tailor her approach accordingly. Shen Yanting had always envied this skill. While she wasn’t exactly tongue-tied, compared to Si Xianling, she often felt clumsy and awkward.

She, too, had once been manipulated by Si Xianling. In the past, she would have willingly shared all her treasures with her younger sister. Now, it seemed she had grown stingy.

A distinct unease in her chest reminded Shen Yanting that she was seething with silent resentment.

Qi Siling’s sweet, cooing calls of “Little Disciple” and her ability to become so close to Bo Xuenong in just a day filled Shen Yanting with shame and irritation.

Her memories offered no explanation for this stinginess.

The white porcelain doll already radiated a chilling aura, strands of coldness clinging to every inch of her skin, as if frost were gnawing at her heart.

A fine, persistent pain coiled around her, and a faint, eerie light flickered in her eyes. “Fellow Daoist Si,” she said.

The three words, uttered in a voice as cold as jade, were an ordinary form of address, yet they concealed barely suppressed anger and embarrassment. She wanted to remind herself that Bo Xuenong was merely her disciple. Even if Si Xianling held her hand, or if Bo Xuenong later formed a Dao Companion and spent every day entwined with them, Shen Yanting should accept it with grace. But the urge to make Si Xianling release her grip burned even stronger.

It felt as if someone had shoved a sour fruit into her mouth, causing her jaw to tremble involuntarily.

Perhaps she should speak plainly, but she feared revealing her true feelings.

These three words were her limit.

Si Xianling finally caught on, giggling mischievously as she refused to let go. “Sister Shen, you’re not jealous of this, are you? Are you afraid I’ll steal your disciple?”

Jealousy.

The word was unfamiliar, yet it perfectly explained the sour taste in her mouth.

Mo Tingshu had only taught her about seeking immortality, the slow path of cultivation, concealing her true self, and feigning indifference.

Shen Yanting had never taught her how to control her increasingly unruly emotions.

The first page of Shen Yanting’s emotional ledger had been written by Si Xianling. On it were the words “jealousy,” accompanied by an image of Si Xianling’s radiant smile and her hand tightly clasped around Bo Xuenong’s arm.

A suffocating, unvented frustration welled up in her chest. She loathed this feeling of losing control.

Shen Yanting closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, the fiery glint had vanished from her gaze. “How could that be? Nong’er is a good disciple. If you wish, she can take another master.”

“Master!” Bo Xuenong, still troubled by Shen Yanting’s failure to grasp Si Xianling’s praise of her kindness, was jolted awake by Shen Yanting’s offer to give her away. She pried Si Xianling’s hand off her arm, pushed her away, and darted to Shen Yanting’s side. Her troubled, anxious eyes locked onto the White Porcelain Doll. “This disciple cannot be given to another.”

She rarely contradicted Shen Yanting, but now she had no choice but to argue.

The White Porcelain Doll’s cold gaze swept over Bo Xuenong’s arm, and a soft voice drifted out: “If Nong’er and Fellow Daoist Si share a fated connection…”

Before the word “destiny” could be uttered, Bo Xuenong urgently interrupted, “Master!”

Bo Xuenong had never interrupted Shen Yanting like this before. It was a first.

After calling out “Stop!” she felt a pang of guilt. She bit her lip, forcing herself to finish through the slight pain: “Senior Si is just a good friend of Master in my eyes.”

If Wu Qingshu hadn’t been supporting Shen Yanting, Bo Xuenong would have added that Si Xianling, with her lack of proper conduct, was even more unreliable than Feng Yingbo. She was hardly fit to be a good senior, let alone a master—it would be akin to misleading young disciples.

My master should always be kept safe in my own hands, Bo Xuenong thought. Otherwise, it feels like someone else is holding her life in their grasp.

Bo Xuenong’s eyes slowly shifted. She extended her right hand, positioning it opposite Wu Qingshu’s, leaving only a narrow gap between their hands supporting Shen Yanting.

Afraid Shen Yanting would perceive this as an order, Bo Xuenong dared not speak plainly. Instead, she desperately signaled with her eyes for Shen Yanting to come closer.

Wu Qingshu, observing everything clearly, couldn’t help but marvel at how Bo Xuenong had been raised into such a devoted child. She never discouraged filial piety in her juniors. “My hand is getting a bit tired,” she said. “Why don’t you let your little disciple support you instead?”

Shen Yanting found it hard to hesitate. Even now, recalling Bo Xuenong’s soft, pleading voice as she begged for a caress, her face flushed crimson and her ears burned.

If not for her Porcelain Doll body, she was certain her palms would be sweating.

Bo Xuenong relentlessly winked and made faces at Shen Yanting. Wu Qingshu nudged the hesitant Shen Yanting forward, saying, “If you don’t go now, your little disciple will die from eye twitching.”

Who ever died from that? Bo Xuenong thought Wu Qingshu was mocking her, but she was still grateful for Wu Qingshu’s support.

Wu Qingshu’s words proved effective. Shen Yanting clutched her skirt hem and finally took a step.

Following Bo Xuenong’s rigidly outstretched finger, Shen Yanting slowly moved back into the palm of Bo Xuenong’s hand, not daring to bend the finger.

Bo Xuenong’s clear, bright eyes remained fixed on Shen Yanting, afraid she might change her mind and return to Wu Qingshu’s side. Only when Shen Yanting stood firmly in her palm did Bo Xuenong finally exhale in relief.

Feeling the weight in her palm again, Bo Xuenong’s face lit up with joy. “Thank you, Master,” she said, her voice brimming with gratitude.

To Bo Xuenong, holding Shen Yanting was a blessing in itself. She cradled the absent-minded Shen Yanting with utmost care, lowering her head so that her gaze remained fixed solely on her.

It was only when Wu Qingshu circled around to Feng Jin and questioned her about the unconscious Feng Yingbo that Bo Xuenong remembered to look up.

“Xiao Jin, what happened to your Master?” Wu Qingshu asked.

“She’s unconscious from her injuries,” Feng Jin replied.

“What?” Si Xianling, only now realizing the truth about Feng Yingbo’s condition, stared incredulously at Feng Yingbo’s arm. “Her injuries aren’t even as severe as mine, and I didn’t faint!”

A small tear in the left sleeve of Feng Yingbo’s robe revealed a clear knife scar on her snow-white skin. This was the only wound on her entire body, and the bleeding had long since stopped. Logically, such a minor injury should be insignificant for a cultivator at the Nascent Soul Stage.

Shen Yanting, standing in Bo Xuenong’s palm, gazed at Feng Yingbo with a probing look. “Junior Sister Feng seems to be in an unusual state.”

Since her solitary Cultivation Journey down the mountain two centuries ago, Feng Yingbo had only descended to procure supplies for the Sect, never engaging in combat again.

Without opportunities for injury, Shen Yanting and the others had naturally found it difficult to detect any physical flaws in Feng Yingbo’s body.

Had Bo Xuenong not overheard Feng Jin’s inner thoughts, they might have remained oblivious.

Hearing Shen Yanting’s concern about Feng Yingbo’s condition, Wu Qingshu instinctively reached out to examine her.

The finest physicians in the Cultivation World were top-tier Pill Cultivators. Wu Qingshu, not being one herself, lacked the means to treat hidden ailments. However, she possessed unique methods for assessing injuries.

A Fifth-Grade Azure Talisman was pressed against Feng Yingbo’s forehead. The faint azure Spirit Pattern sank into her body, circled once, then transformed into a Spirit Serpent that darted onto Wu Qingshu’s arm before vanishing without a trace.

Wu Qingshu raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her voice. “A Nascent Soul Realm sword cultivator with such a frail constitution is quite rare.”

Shen Yanting turned to her. “Aunt Shu, are you saying my Junior Sister is physically weak?”

Wu Qingshu nodded, scrutinizing Feng Yingbo closely. Her gaze lingered on the girl’s petite frame and delicate features before she said earnestly, “This must be the ‘delicate and frail’ Cen Wan was looking for.”

“?” Bo Xuenong touched her ear, instinctively exchanging a glance with Feng Jin.

Feng Jin looked equally puzzled. She couldn’t help but ask, “Senior Wu, is the Cen Wan you mentioned the senior who looks so much like me? Why would she be looking for someone delicate and frail?”

She had always denied any bl00d relation to Yu Cenwan, yet she couldn’t help but be deeply invested in Cenwan’s affairs.

Bo Xuenong couldn’t resist rolling her eyes at Feng Jin, a gesture Shen Yanting caught.

Shen Yanting frowned slightly. “Nong’er, you can be so affectionate with Fellow Daoist Si. Why can’t you be gentler with your Junior Sister?”

Wasn’t she being gentle with Feng Jin?

Among this group, aside from Shen Yanting, Feng Jin was the person she liked most.

Though the System’s Affection Value only showed six, that was clearly a glitch. Her sisterly affection for Feng Jin was absolutely genuine.

And… when had she ever been close to Si Xianling? Just now, Si Xianling had been clinging to her, refusing to let go, while she had struggled desperately to break free.

No one present could possibly dislike Si Xianling more than she did.

She was truly wronged!

Bo Xuenong’s inner thoughts were a torrent, but not a single word dared escape her lips.

She could only nod obediently, responding meekly, “Master, I will remember to be gentle with Xiao Jin.”

While Bo Xuenong and Shen Yanting whispered quietly, Wu Qingshu had already answered Feng Jin’s question: “Since joining the Cloudmist Sect, she’s been searching for two people. One is a young man named Little Huai Shu who has lost all five senses. She claims he’s her childhood sweetheart. The other is a frail woman who loves to cling to people, saying she’s looking for a stepmother.”

With each word Wu Qingshu spoke, her brow furrowed deeper. “Yan Ting, don’t you think your new Junior Sister is strange? I can understand searching for a childhood sweetheart—your Master mentioned that the young man lost his senses because of Cen Wan, so it’s natural for her to want to repay him. Such acts of devotion are common in the Cultivation World. But her father died centuries ago, and she’s still looking for a stepmother? Isn’t that odd?”

Bo Xuenong finally understood why Wu Qingshu was so fond of Yu Cenwan.

Yu Cenwan’s bizarre criteria for finding people must have brought considerable amusement to Wu Qingshu’s otherwise monotonous life. Over the years, Wu Qingshu had likely spent countless hours pondering these two individuals connected to Yu Cenwan, delving into Yu Cenwan’s motives, which explained why Yu Cenwan was constantly on her mind.

Bo Xuenong exchanged a knowing glance with Feng Jin. They both knew exactly who Yu Cenwan was searching for and why she had been unable to find them.

For years, Sang Fan had hidden Cheng Huaizhou within the Nethergate Sect, waiting for the perfect moment for the Male Lead to shine. As for Cheng Huaizhou’s senses, his hearing, touch, and vision had already been restored, leaving only his sense of smell and taste yet to recover. He was now practically indistinguishable from a normal person.

Given that Yu Cenwan only remembered the person’s childhood nickname and appearance, it was no wonder she couldn’t find someone Sang Fan had deliberately concealed.

Feng Yingbo was an even more hopeless case. Yu Cenwan didn’t even know her name and likely hadn’t gotten a clear look at her face. Moreover, Feng Yingbo had grown younger due to the Buddha Fruit’s newfound power. And to top it off, Yu Cenwan’s only memory of her was that she was delicate, frail, and prone to snuggling into people’s arms. If Feng Yingbo ever found out about this, she’d likely be furious.

Moreover, Feng Yingbo hadn’t left the Imperial Tranquility Sect in two centuries. Yu Cenwan finding her would be a miracle. But… Bo Xuenong hadn’t forgotten that Feng Yingbo could be an advantage in Feng Jin’s quest to win her over.

Bo Xuenong pointed at Feng Yingbo. “Senior Wu, perhaps Aunt Feng is the person she’s looking for.”

She presented the correct answer to Wu Qingshu, but Wu Qingshu dismissed it. “Impossible.”

Wu Qingshu scrutinized Feng Yingbo’s slightly delicate, youthful face. “Her face doesn’t match the age.”

After a moment of contemplation, Wu Qingshu murmured, “I remember Cen Wan saying the female cultivator she’s looking for should be frail and delicate, but resemble her mother.”

A crack appeared in Bo Xuenong’s carefully constructed gentle smile.

Frail and delicate, but resemble her mother? How did the Female Lead even string those words together? Let her try describing her own mother with “frail and delicate”!

She’d bet Si Xianling would never use those words to describe Zhu Ningfu.

Bo Xuenong was about to argue on Feng Yingbo’s behalf when Feng Jin’s telepathic message suddenly reached her: “Eldest Senior Sister, you can’t tell Senior Wu about our connection to Yu Cenwan. Otherwise, Martial Aunt Shen will ask how you know, and we don’t have a plausible explanation.”

Bo Xuenong belatedly realized that Feng Yingbo didn’t even know who Feng Jin’s other parent was. If she suddenly revealed this, it would be difficult to explain.

After all, they couldn’t mention the System or anything related to it.

Bo Xuenong fell silent, secretly pondering how to handle her next encounter with Yu Cenwan. Suddenly, she heard Shen Yanting whisper, “Claiming someone as your mother without even knowing her name?”

Shen Yanting clearly found their new junior sister rather odd as well.

Wu Qingshu nodded earnestly. “She said it was her stepmother.”

Wu Qingshu was about to say more to Shen Yanting when she caught sight of an uninvited guest in her peripheral vision. She turned toward the village entrance, where a gentle-looking woman rode a grey-furred rabbit with violet-gold eyes. Wu Qingshu raised an eyebrow and glanced coldly at Si Xianling. “Yu Cenwan’s stepmother hasn’t been found, but yours has arrived.”

She made no attempt to hide her dislike for Zhu Ningfu.

Wu Qingshu saw Zhu Ningfu as an enemy who had disrupted the bond between mother and daughter, unaware that Zhu Ningfu was secretly gazing up at her with admiration.

Zhu Ningfu was truly useless. Despite her deep admiration, she had somehow managed to make things worse and become disliked. She would never do anything Shen Yanting disapproved of.

Bo Xuenong secretly cursed Zhu Ningfu’s incompetence, while Shen Yanting carefully observed the new Sect Leader of the Beast Taming Sect. She hadn’t had a proper look at Zhu Ningfu before, but Si Xianling had already laid out all the flattering words.

Si Xianling knew exactly how to coax Wu Qingshu. She looped her arm through Wu Qingshu’s and whined, “Mother, how could a stepmother ever compare to a real mother? I’ll always love you the most! If Zhu Ningfu comes, I won’t say a single word to her.”

Wu Qingshu frowned slightly. “She’s still your elder. That would be terribly rude.”

“Since Mother says so, I’ll definitely listen.” Si Xianling wasn’t actually planning to obey; she had anticipated Wu Qingshu’s reaction all along. She took two cheerful steps forward, preparing to greet Zhu Ningfu, but before she could get far, Wu Qingshu grabbed her by the back of her collar and yanked her back to her original spot.

Wu Qingshu stared at Si Xianling with a forced smile. “You really won’t acknowledge her? You seemed quite eager to see her.”

Exposed but utterly unrepentant, Si Xianling lied without hesitation. “Of course not! I don’t like Zhu Ningfu at all. Mother, haven’t you heard? Stepmothers in the mortal world always mistreat their stepchildren—beating them, scolding them, and starving them. Only a rare few are kind.”

Wu Qingshu’s gaze turned icy. “Did she hit you?”

Si Xianling replied, “Of course not. She’s usually quite kind to me.”

Wu Qingshu’s lips moved slightly. “Oh.”

In that brief moment, Zhu Ningfu had already bypassed the villagers of Lanshou Village and approached Wu Qingshu. She dismounted from Greyfur Rabbit, glanced lightly at Wu Qingshu, and then addressed Si Xianling: “How could your mother mistreat you like this? She won’t even let you rest with such a severe injury.”

As she spoke, Zhu Ningfu’s hand moved to Si Xianling’s waist, subtly wedging herself between Si Xianling and Wu Qingshu. She gently supported Si Xianling.

Slightly turning her body, she seemingly unintentionally exposed a small red mole on her fair neck to Wu Qingshu’s view.

Wu Qingshu’s brow furrowed deeply. She reached out to snatch Si Xianling back.

Zhu Ningfu blocked her hand, her fingertip pressing against the webbed skin between Wu Qingshu’s thumb and forefinger. She casually rubbed it twice before pushing Wu Qingshu’s hand away.

Zhu Ningfu tightened her hold on Si Xianling. Wu Qingshu, unwilling to retreat, found herself at a disadvantage. To reclaim the child from this position, she would have to reach around Zhu Ningfu’s body, making it appear from a distance as if Wu Qingshu were embracing her.

Bo Xuenong watched intently, her eyes briefly brightening before dimming again.

Zhu Ningfu’s intentions were obvious; she would never scheme against Shen Yanting like that.

Bo Xuenong secretly congratulated herself, yet also reflected on how she had managed to see through Zhu Ningfu’s ulterior motives. It seemed illogical, especially since Si Xianling, who had once instantly discerned her feelings for Shen Yanting, was now preoccupied with “mediating” the conflict. Had Bo Xuenong finally gained clarity after realizing her affection for Shen Yanting?

Or was it simply a case of the bystander seeing clearly what the participant could not?

Bo Xuenong completely overlooked the fact that Si Xianling hadn’t truly seen through her feelings; she had merely guessed, and Bo Xuenong had ultimately revealed her own heart.

Wu Qingshu, a devoted daughter-slave, was completely absorbed in snatching her daughter, oblivious to the fact that her arm had brushed against Zhu Ningfu’s waist and that a strand of her hair had fallen across Zhu Ningfu’s neck, perfectly concealing the red mole there. She only noticed Zhu Ningfu tightening her grip on Si Xianling.

Suddenly, Wu Qingshu released her hold and stopped. “Zhu Ningfu,” she called out.

Though Zhu Ningfu didn’t turn to look, the tip of her ear twitched noticeably.

She was listening intently for Wu Qingshu’s next words.

Wu Qingshu crossed her arms, her voice icy as frost: “I now suspect you’re trying to seduce my stepdaughter.”

Zhu Ningfu’s smile froze on her face. Her hand slowly loosened its grip on Si Xianling’s waist. After a long pause, she finally remembered what she wanted to say: “Xian’er, your mother is slandering me.”

“Mother,” Si Xianling mumbled, “Xiao Niang already went after my father. It’s obvious she prefers older men. If she were trying to seduce anyone, it would be you, or maybe Great-Aunt, or even Eldest Aunt. Why would she go for me? I’m young and beautiful, and we’re even related through Beast Clan bl00d.”

Si Xianling’s voice was so soft and fragmented that Bo Xuenong, who had perked up her Spirit Ear, barely caught it.

Should I tell them she accidentally guessed right?

Wu Qingshu stood so close to Si Xianling that she hadn’t even considered using a technique to eavesdrop. Only when she realized she hadn’t heard what Si Xianling said did she ask, “Xian’er, what did you just say?”

“Nothing!” Si Xianling shouted back, staggering toward Wu Qingshu. Just as she reached striking distance, she conveniently collapsed, throwing herself into Wu Qingshu’s arms. Her right hand stretched out, groping until it found Zhu Ningfu’s arm. “Mother, Xiao Niang, my wound hurts.”

Hearing Shen Yanting cry out in pain, Wu Qingshu and Zhu Ningfu immediately forgot their quarrel.

Forcing a semblance of harmony, they each supported her on one side.

After a moment, Wu Qingshu couldn’t resist speaking first, her irritation with Zhu Ningfu still simmering. “If you’re not with the Beast Taming Sect, what are you doing here?”

Zhu Ningfu glanced at Wu Qingshu. “The Heavenly Cuisine Sect matter is mostly resolved. They’re waiting there for the Divine Pavilion’s investigation. I came to bring you a gift.”

“A gift?”

Wu Qingshu wasn’t particularly curious about what Zhu Ningfu might be offering, but Bo Xuenong certainly was.

She carried Shen Yanting forward a few steps, sensing that Zhu Ningfu was unlikely to offer anything conventional.

Zhu Ningfu touched her Storage Ring. With a flash of crimson light, dozens of dismembered corpses suddenly appeared on the ground. She turned to Gui Nian’an, her smile gentle. “To spare you the trip back to the Heavenly Cuisine Sect, I’ve brought you all the Demonic Cultivator corpses from there. Some of them might be from your village. There are also some Heavenly Cuisine Sect Elders among them—likely those who harmed you. I brought them all here so you can have your revenge.”

Zhu Ningfu pondered for a moment, then added, “Rest assured, I haven’t told anyone about the Human Talismans or Spirit Supplements here.”

Gui Nian’an sincerely thanked Zhu Ningfu, “Thank you.”

Feng Jin, her curiosity piqued, leaned closer to Bo Xuenong and whispered, “Eldest Senior Sister, how can we get revenge on someone who’s already dead?”

She didn’t use a voice transmission, nor did she lower her voice much.

Zhu Ningfu and the others overheard.

Zhu Ningfu turned and smiled at Feng Jin. “We can whip the corpse, hmm… or grind the bones to ash and scatter them.”

Feng Jin’s face paled, and her fingers, gripping Feng Yingbo’s hand too tightly, turned white at the tips.

She was truly timid, a trait Bo Xuenong had grown somewhat accustomed to.

Recalling Shen Yanting’s earnest teachings, Bo Xuenong gently patted Feng Jin’s head. “If you’re scared, take Aunt Feng to rest in the house first. We’ll handle things here.”

No one would stop a sick person and a child from leaving.

Not only them, but also some of the villagers from Lanshou Village who had fainted from grief were helped into the houses to rest.

After the crowd had thinned considerably, Wu Qingshu suddenly pointed at Bo Xuenong and said, “Zhu Ningfu’s mention of the Divine Pavilion reminds me—you can’t stay here.”

Bo Xuenong and Shen Yanting froze in unison. “Why not?”

Wu Qingshu asked, “You haven’t received your Heavenly Talent Register yet, have you?”

The mention of the Heavenly Talent Register made Shen Yanting realize the danger. “Nong’er, we must leave at once!”

Ever since Shen Yanting had realized her feelings for Bo Xuenong were no longer purely those of a master toward her disciple, her heart had been in turmoil.

She had completely overlooked the fact that the Divine Pavilion would be drawn by the scent of bl00d. They wouldn’t just investigate the Beast Taming Sect and the truth behind the Heavenly Cuisine Sect’s destruction; they would also come for Bo Xuenong. After all, Bo Xuenong had killed He Yongda, and as a rising star likely to be listed on the Heavenly Talent Register, the Divine Pavilion would deliver the register to her.

The Heavenly Talent Register’s rankings followed strict rules for advancement. Take the Heavenly Pride Ranking, for example, which only listed cultivators under a thousand years old. Once a cultivator’s rank was established, they could only climb higher by defeating someone already on the list. A cultivator under a thousand years old who won a duel against a ranked individual would take their place. However, even though Bo Xuenong had killed He Yongda, she wouldn’t automatically replace him as the top-ranked Heavenly Prodigy. Instead, she would receive a Heavenly Talent Register and be placed at the very bottom of the Heavenly Pride Ranking.

In a proper, witnessed competition, cultivators rely on their own cultivation and combat prowess, forbidden from using methods outside their Path of Cultivation. There are countless ways to kill an opponent, many of which are considered underhanded. The Divine Pavilion enforces these rules to prevent cultivators from resorting to any means necessary to obtain the resources awarded for ranking high on the Heavenly Talent Register.

Instances of cultivators begging their masters to severely injure opponents before personally delivering the killing blow to silence them have occurred in the past.

For those already listed on the Heavenly Talent Register, ranking changes are automatically updated based on the register’s detection of victories and defeats, requiring no intervention from the Divine Pavilion. However, for newcomers like Bo Xuenong, the Divine Pavilion would personally visit her to deliver the Heavenly Talent Register and gather basic information.

If the Divine Pavilion’s representatives arrived at Lanshou Village, the existence of the Human Talisman and Spirit Supplement would inevitably be exposed.

He Yongda’s Heavenly Talent Register would retain Bo Xuenong’s aura, making it easy for the Divine Pavilion to track her down. While a formation could conceal her presence, such an evasion would clearly signal suspicious activity to the Divine Pavilion. This would not only draw their attention to Bo Xuenong but might also implicate the Beast Taming Sect, which would need to negotiate with the Divine Pavilion on her behalf.

Moreover, Bo Xuenong was already scheduled to undertake a Cultivation Journey in Scale Mountain County. Sooner or later, the Divine Pavilion would detect her aura anyway, making it best to obtain the Heavenly Talent Register sooner rather than later.

Shen Yanting pointed at Gui Nian’an. “Nian’an, you come with us.”

Gui Nian’an had killed many people at the Heavenly Cuisine Sect, and some of them might have been on the Heavenly Pride Ranking. It would be safer to stick together.

Feng Yingbo and Gui Nianqin didn’t need to come along; the cultivators visiting the village weren’t particularly strong.

Bo Xuenong was about to help Shen Yanting walk when Wu Qingshu stopped them. “Yan Ting, perhaps you should split up. Your identity is… unique. The Divine Pavilion knows you. If you stay with her, the child’s identity will be exposed. Many in the Divine Pavilion already suspect… they might…”

She tried to phrase it delicately, skipping the crucial point.

Bo Xuenong understood they were referring to her Bloodline. She didn’t mind if someone tried to kill her now, but she was reluctant to separate from Shen Yanting.

What if the Divine Pavilion sent someone from the Three Great Sects who knew about the past? If they recognized her identity and confirmed she had killed people, she might be executed immediately. In that case… she wanted to spend her last moments with Shen Yanting. Perhaps, facing imminent death, the System would allow her to reveal the original novel’s plot to Shen Yanting, giving her a chance to prepare for Cheng Huaizhou’s schemes.

Bo Xuenong stopped hearing their voices, but she noticed Shen Yanting and Wu Qingshu exchanging glances.

They must be communicating telepathically.

Wu Qingshu stopped mid-sentence, realizing Bo Xuenong didn’t know about her Bloodline. She immediately switched to telepathy: “If the newcomers aren’t aware of what happened back then, it’ll be manageable. But if they recognize her identity and learn she’s killed someone, they’ll definitely force you to kill her. You can reason with the old fogeys from the Cloudmist Sect—we all agree the original conditions were too harsh. But the attitudes of the other Sects’ elders are unpredictable, especially Sang Fan. You know, if it weren’t for his initial opposition, the ban on eating humans might never have extended to a ban on killing. That old bastard is truly ruthless, forbidding cultivators from taking lives.”

Shen Yanting lowered her gaze and replied telepathically: “The Cultivation Journey to Scale Mountain County is approaching. Hiding her serves no purpose now. Besides, many who know the truth already know I’ve joined the Imperial Tranquility Sect. Just hearing the Sect’s name will likely make them guess my identity. If I don’t stay with Nong’er, they might seize the opportunity to kill my disciple. What would I do then?”

Wu Qingshu: “Yan Ting, Grand Martial Aunt was just about to ask you: have you decided to protect your disciple? Remember, she carries the bl00d of a feral beast. She may seem filial now, but she could turn on you at any moment.”

Shen Yanting used the somewhat unfamiliar title Wu Qingshu had used, “Grand Martial Aunt, unless I die, I can guarantee that Nong’er will never harm any good person. I’ll keep a close watch on her; she’s very obedient to me.”

Wu Qingshu replied, “She is indeed very obedient to you, but can you watch over her for the rest of your life?”

Shen Yanting remained silent for a long time, her gaze sliding over Bo Xuenong’s face before she nodded. “I believe I can.”

Wu Qingshu disagreed. “It’s easy to say now, but what happens when you ascend to immortality? Who will keep her in check then?”

Shen Yanting pressed her lips into a thin line and sent another telepathic message: “I don’t necessarily need to become immortal.”

Wu Qingshu sighed. “What was Mo Tingshu thinking, agreeing to let you raise this child? Now her most promising disciple, the one with the greatest chance of ascending to immortality, has lost all interest in seeking the Dao.”

As Wu Qingshu began to blame Mo Tingshu, Shen Yanting felt a surge of disagreement.

The White Porcelain Doll lowered her delicate head. “Grand Martial Aunt, this has nothing to do with Master. It’s my own fault.”

The shame she had barely suppressed resurfaced, overwhelming her. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell Wu Qingshu that her waning interest in immortality wasn’t because she wanted to keep Bo Xuenong in check, but because she had developed improper feelings for her own disciple.

Bo Xuenong was an obedient and virtuous disciple, but Shen Yanting felt unworthy to be her master.

Her nails dug deep into her palms as Shen Yanting lowered her head, avoiding both Bo Xuenong’s gaze and Wu Qingshu’s.

Wu Qingshu wasn’t heartless toward her own people, especially the child she had watched grow up. “I’ll come with you,” she said. “If the Divine Pavilion attacks, your current condition won’t be enough to stop them.”

They arranged their plans in silence. When Bo Xuenong regained her hearing, Shen Yanting simply said, “Nong’er, let’s go.”

“Alright.” Bo Xuenong cradled Shen Yanting in her arms, took Gui Nian’an by the hand, and followed Wu Qingshu toward the village exit. After only two steps, she suddenly turned back and, with lightning speed, enveloped the bewildered Fu Yunqing in a tight embrace. “Sect Leader,” she murmured.

Bo Xuenong had just remembered that the Otherworld Soul within Fu Yunqing remained unresolved.

Weighing the spiritual power boost from the Otherworld Soul against the unreliability of Feng Jin, she decided to act herself. With all eyes on them, Bo Xuenong hastily fabricated a passable excuse: “I’ll miss you.”

Fu Yunqing was still immersed in grief over her shattered homeland and the deaths of familiar faces before her eyes when Bo Xuenong suddenly embraced her, leaving her momentarily stunned. Hearing Bo Xuenong utter such sentimental words, she felt a surge of emotion and instinctively repeated her earlier claim to Shen Yanting: “Senior Sister Shen, see? I told you Xuenong and I are very close.”

Shen Yanting’s eyelids fluttered. Bo Xuenong had never embraced her so proactively and passionately before.

A sharp, stinging sensation crept across Shen Yanting’s chest. She resented her White Porcelain Doll body for its heart that couldn’t become lifeless. She preferred a predictable life, where everything unfolded as expected, leaving no room for surprises. But reality defied her wishes.

Whether it was people or emotions, she seemed unable to control anything.

The crack in her carefully maintained mask of composure widened, threatening to shatter it completely.

“Mm,” Shen Yanting murmured, her voice betraying its coldness. Afraid of revealing her true feelings, she hastily patted Fu Yunqing’s shoulder and echoed Bo Xuenong’s words: “Aunty Qing, I’ll miss you too.”

Miss, miss, miss!

What’s there to miss about Fu Yunqing?!

After placing the Soul-Devouring Gu containing the selectable soul, Bo Xuenong released Fu Yunqing. She had heard Shen Yanting’s declaration of missing her loud and clear, and it felt utterly awkward.

Her life would be in danger on this journey, and she didn’t even know if she would ever be able to stay with Shen Yanting again.

Why couldn’t Shen Yanting say she missed her?

She was younger than Fu Yunqing and needed more reassurance.

She cared about Shen Yanting more than Fu Yunqing did and craved her thoughts even more.

A bitter ache filled her heart. Part of her felt a sharp pang in her chest, while another part couldn’t help but wonder if she was being too greedy.

In the past, Shen Yanting had always done as she pleased around Bo Xuenong. Without realizing it, she had grown accustomed to this indulgence, even daring to harbor such petty thoughts in her heart.

Who Shen Yanting missed was her own affair. Bo Xuenong had no right to control her, let alone be angry.

Bo Xuenong secretly admonished herself, but in the end, she couldn’t help but sigh, “I hate sour fruits.”

The nonsensical remark surprised even herself. She couldn’t explain why she had said it. Yet, the silent Shen Yanting instinctively replied, “I don’t like them either.”

Bo Xuenong forgot her sulking. She secretly noted Shen Yanting’s dislike for sour fruits, unaware that while they both spoke of “sour fruits,” their minds conjured different kinds entirely.