Lan Xiaosheng’s gaze roamed around the room, silent for a moment, before he took out three incense sticks from his storage pouch.

“I have limited time to perform the ritual, so since no one is willing to back down, we’ll split it into three attempts (1). Regardless of who enters his sea of consciousness, once the time is up and they haven’t succeeded, I will forcibly pull them out,” he said, glancing at Shen Liuxiang. Instead of arguing for Ye Bingran’s position, he looked at Ling Ye and said, “You have the highest cultivation level and are his senior brother, making you the most suitable to be the first to enter the sea of consciousness.”

Ling Ye nodded, “You’re right, Senior Brother.”

“No need to call me Senior Brother. We are both Sect Masters,” Lan Xiaosheng said with a slightly softer tone, despite his earlier sternness. He then instructed, “Once you are inside, the Nightmare Beast will likely use his memories to set up illusions. You must stay alert at all times, find the true form of the Nightmare Beast, subdue it, and then enter the illusion trapping Shen Liuxiang to bring him back.”

Ling Ye agreed and sat cross-legged on the ground. Lan Xiaosheng stood beside him and lit the first incense stick.

Inside the narrow confinement room, the light was dim, and a faint smell of old paper filled the air.

Ling Ye stood at the door, peering into the room.

Kneeling before a cluttered and spacious desk was a young man in red clothes, lowering his head slightly. His trembling hand held a pen, scribbling down a series of crooked characters on the paper.

Hearing the door opening, he made a disapproving sound without raising his head.

“Just copying, just copying. I’m not slacking off,” Shen Liuxiang said in a lackadaisical tone.

Ling Ye remained silent, and after a moment of silence, he sat down on the ground.

Hearing the sound, Shen Liuxiang raised his head, and a hint of surprise appeared in his delicate phoenix eyes.

“Senior Brother is back.”

Ling Ye recalled the scene from somewhere.

Once, when he was away on a journey, he learned that Shen Liuxiang had made a mistake and was punished by the Sect Master to copy the Sect’s rules one hundred times in this confinement room. He couldn’t leave until he finished copying them.

“I heard that you broke a glass vase,” Ling Ye looked around the room, speculating where the Nightmare Beast might be hiding, and then sat down.

Hearing this, Shen Liuxiang’s spirit seemed to deflate, and he slouched his head lazily. “It wasn’t intentional.”

He put down the pen, and Ling Ye saw his slender and fair fingers intertwined with faint bruises. The palms were swollen and shocking to look at.

“The old Sect Master scolded me for half an hour and hit me with a ruler more than ten times.”

Ling Ye naturally took out the medicine bottle from his sleeve, poured the healing spirit liquid into Shen Liuxiang’s palm, and said, “Complaining to me won’t do any good.”

The red-clothed boy hissed in pain.

Ling Ye saw him frown and eased up on the pressure while applying the ointment. He continued, “It’s just a glass vase, the old sect master indeed punished you too severely.”

“That old man has never liked me,” Shen Liuxiang muttered, “If he scolded someone else, a verbal warning would have been enough. But with me, he won’t stop until he leaves me with bruises and cuts all over.”

“He took advantage of the time when you and Master were not in the sect to bully me. For the past few months, besides cultivating, I had to serve in the Lingxiao Hall. I had to fetch tea, sweep the floor, and do other chores. If anything was not to his liking, he would berate me mercilessly.”

Shen Liuxiang didn’t think much of it before, but now, as he looked at the person helping him apply the ointment, he felt more and more wronged. “Next time, take me with you on your journey, Senior Brother.”

After applying the ointment, Ling Ye glanced at the scattered papers on the table and said, “You’re still young and not suitable for that.”

“Senior Brother clearly finds me annoying,” Shen Liuxiang said, getting up from his kneeling position and rubbing his sore knees. “Master said that you prefer tranquility and enjoy traveling to famous mountains and rivers. Even if you go on another journey and never return to Qingling, it wouldn’t be surprising.”

“Master has never spoken a single falsehood in his life,” Ling Ye replied, looking at Shen Liuxiang. “I do indeed prefer to be outside more, and you do indeed get on my nerves sometimes.”

“Senior brother’s words truly hurt me,” Shen Liuxiang said, feigning extreme sorrow. “My heart hurts. It seems that only senior brother helping me with copying the sect rules can make it better.”

“Don’t whine. I’ll help you copy,” Ling Ye picked up a blank sheet of paper, spread it on the tidy desk, and rolled up his sleeves to start writing. “Just be quiet.”

Ling Ye had helped Shen Liuxiang with this task many times before, so he was quite familiar with it. Not only did he perfectly mimic the handwriting, but he also imitated the injuries, occasionally shaking the pen to show the injuries on his hand, making it seem seamless.

Shen Liuxiang sat cross-legged on the floor, supporting his chin with his hand, and stared at Ling Ye for a while. His eyelids began to droop slightly, indicating that he was getting sleepy.

“Senior brother is the best,” he mumbled. “That old man would always frown and scold me. I hope the next sect master treats me better.”

Ling Ye casually replied, “Many elders have expressed interest, but based on seniority, Immortal Meng is the most likely candidate.”

“Immortal Meng, huh?” Shen Liuxiang sighed. “He always frowns at me whenever he sees me. I guess when he becomes the  Sect Master, I won’t have it easy.”

Fatigue seemed to hit him all of a sudden, and he yawned, struggling to keep his phoenix eyes open. “I hope he’ll be kinder to me than the old man.”

“However… if senior brother becomes the sect master,” he looked at Ling Ye in a drowsy state, “no matter what I do, you won’t punish me. I’d be extremely happy in Qingling Sect.”

Ling Ye’s hand paused.

He turned his head to look at the red-robed youth, who had fallen asleep with his head resting on the desk, blinking and sinking into a dream.

Ling Ye watched him for an unknown period before continuing to write. In the small, dimly lit room, the only sound left was the rustling of pen on paper.

The scene changed, and the crescent moon hung high in the sky.

Mountain peaks soared into the clouds, steep and sharp like solitary blades. Ling Ye carried a person on his back, walking along a winding path.

The person he was carrying looked particularly disheveled, with a bloody wound on the forehead and several scratches on the cheeks. His originally slender and pale ankles were now swollen, and his clothes were torn by thorns.

“Thank goodness senior brother found me,” Shen Liurang said, using a silk handkerchief soaked with medicine to cover his forehead, his heart still trembling.

He had just learned how to ride a sword today and couldn’t resist flying among the peaks of the sect. He rushed to Chao Tian Peak in the afternoon, but accidentally collided with a protruding rock on the mountain wall.

He rolled down from the middle of the mountain to the foot of the peak.

When he woke up, he felt dizzy and disoriented. It was already late at night, and his whole body was covered with bruises and injuries, making it painful to move. He leaned against a tree trunk, intending to rest in place for the night.

Unexpectedly, senior brother came looking for him.

“Chao Tian Peak is covered in clouds and is incredibly dangerous. You’ve only learned the sword technique a little, and you dare to fly here,” Ling Ye said.

“I came to see senior brother,” Shen Liuxiang replied.

Ling Ye’s expression softened slightly, “I’ve been quite busy lately. If it’s not something important, don’t come looking for me.”

“What is senior brother busy with?” Shen Liurang asked.

“I’m competing for the position of sect master with others,” Ling Ye said.

Shen Liurang was stunned, and his eyes widened slightly. After a moment, he frowned, “Even if senior brother is outstanding, he’s still just a disciple. There are elders and Immortals above him. How could he ever become the Sect Master?”

“The position of Sect Master is held by only those that are capable”

As Ling Ye spoke, the tree shadows on the roadside fell on his face, half of which was hidden in the dim light. The usually gentle smile at the corner of his lips now appeared somewhat cold.

Shen Liuxiang blinked his eyes, and his worries seemed to vanish. “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t believe they could do it. But since it’s you, senior brother, I’ll prepare a congratulatory gift for you.”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “When you reach the level of an immortal, and still so young and handsome, you’ll be the youngest and most handsome sect master in the cultivation world. Then, when I go out to practice, if I encounter any danger, I can just say, ‘I am the senior brother of Qingling Sect’s Sect Master!’ and nobody will dare to touch me.”

Ling Ye smiled but remained silent.

After a while, Shen Liuxiang shook his head solemnly. “No, that’s too embarrassing for senior brother.”

He pondered for a moment and then grinned, “In that case, since you’ll be the sect master, I’ll become an Immortal to assist you.”

Ling Ye’s footsteps paused, and he muttered to himself, “I see.”

But why were these memories in his mind wrapped in a thin fog? If it weren’t for the Nightmare Beast using Shen Liuxiang’s memories to create illusions to deal with him, he would never have remembered these scenes. Although he could recall them, they felt deliberately forgotten in a corner of his mind.

T/N: Hmmmm…

(1) – an incense stick of time is roughly 5 minutes for context.

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