“Yunxi… I’ve kept you waiting.” Lu Sheng rose to his feet, his voice instinctively softening as he looked at the girl who had been standing there all this time.
At those words, Chen Yunxi’s eyes instantly reddened. “Brother Sheng…”
“Let’s go. The weather’s fine today. I’m sure Golden Light Temple will be lively.” Lu Sheng stepped closer and gently took her right hand.
With her head lowered, Chen Yunxi whispered, “Anything that Brother says…”
The two of them quickly gathered a few belongings. Chen Yunxi climbed alone into Lu Sheng’s carriage, and together they set off at an unhurried pace toward Golden Light Temple.
Golden Light Temple sat just outside Mountain-Edge City, near Eastern Mountain—a renowned Buddhist site famed for the uncanny effectiveness of its blessings. Pilgrims and tourists from all directions often visited, offering incense with devout sincerity.
The Golden Light Poetry Recital, one of the temple’s prize-giving events, was held every three months. It was a small yet popular gathering, reminiscent of the guessing contests with prizes from Lu Sheng’s previous life on Earth.
Lu Sheng led Chen Yunxi to the foot of the temple’s hill. Numerous carriages were already parked there, and crowds of Buddhists and visitors moved steadily along the path—some climbing up, others returning.
Both the plainly dressed and the richly adorned mingled together. Many devout worshippers knelt right there at the base of the hill, bowing and chanting sutras with fervor, praying for even the slightest sign from the Buddha.
Lu Sheng descended first, then helped Chen Yunxi down before guiding her toward the entrance of the hill path. Only two discreet subordinates followed from a distance.
“I heard praying here is very effective. I wonder if that’s true?” Lu Sheng said with a light smile.
Because of his bald head, he wore a scholar’s cap, yet the absence of eyebrows still left his features sharp and severe. Fortunately, Little Qiao had dressed him well. His loose white robes fluttered softly in the breeze, masking his powerful build and lending him a gentler, more refined air—balancing the harsh impression left by his lack of brows.
“My Youngest Mother comes to pray often. It seems effective indeed. But I don’t believe in such things.” Chen Yunxi shook her head gently, a faint smile on her lips.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re just here to sightsee.” Lu Sheng led her past the entrance, climbing the stone steps one after another.
Even wounded, his physical endurance far surpassed that of ordinary people. In less than half an hour, they had already arrived at the temple gates.
Small stalls lined the entrance, each selling bundles of incense. Chen Yunxi bought two sets—one for him, one for herself—before they joined the flow of visitors wandering through the temple grounds.
Eventually, they stepped into the main hall. Following the rows of tourists, they lit their incense sticks and placed them into the large altar, where countless other offerings burned.
Kneeling on the small prayer mats, they pressed their palms together and closed their eyes.
Gong…8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyEyknn7IVB
Gong…8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuGDgInJeBX
Gong…
The rhythmic chime of the gong echoed through the hall as dusk quietly descended. Amidst the chorus of chanting monks, Lu Sheng glanced at Chen Yunxi—her palms joined, her eyes closed in sincere devotion. He turned back toward the Buddha statue and offered his own silent prayer.
‘I pray that my parents, family, loved ones, and friends remain healthy and blissful, living peaceful and quiet lives.’
‘I pray my wounds will heal quickly so I can continue upgrading my Ultimate Crimson Nine Furies Skill… then cut down anyone who stands in my way.’
Both knelt with their eyes shut, but the worlds within their hearts could not be more different.
Once the incense was offered, the Golden Light Poetry Recital—always a lively affair—began. Anyone could compose a poem, though the theme was determined by the Abbot.
The prizes were displayed on a raised platform in the temple square. Hundreds—perhaps even a thousand—had gathered around it. Even as night settled in, the crowd stretched endlessly, a dense sea of heads filling the square.
Lu Sheng had little interest in poetry, nor the energy to entertain a so-called recital. He had already reserved a private chamber in a restaurant overlooking the square. Bringing Chen Yunxi along, he led her into the quiet room, where they could watch the event from above.
“This is a good view. We can hear their poems and avoid the crowd,” Lu Sheng said with a smile as he guided her toward the window.
Below, on the platform at the center of the circular square, several elderly monks in dark yellow robes spoke with the young men and women preparing to participate in the recital. Most came in pairs—couples eager to impress one another, their confidence on full display.
If their poetry won the admiration of the audience, the temple would engrave their verses onto the Golden Light Wall, a monument built specifically for the event.
“It’s a pity I don’t know poetry. Otherwise, I’d like to leave my name on the Golden Light Wall,” Chen Yunxi said, eyes shimmering with interest.
“If you want, we can give it a try,” Lu Sheng replied with a gentle smile. Golden Light Temple clearly had formidable backing; otherwise, in times as dangerous as these, it would have been impossible for them to operate so openly.
Crimson Whale Sect had investigated the place before. Intelligence indicated a hidden expert within the temple—one whose strength far surpassed that of the ordinary wandering spirits.
“I can’t… Let’s forget it…” Chen Yunxi waved her hands in flustered refusal, her cheeks warming with color. She stepped back instinctively and bumped into Lu Sheng standing behind her. Her soft shoulder-length hair brushed against the tip of his nose, tickling it with a faint, refreshing scent.
Chen Yunxi instantly froze, not daring to move even slightly.
Lu Sheng chuckled and gently placed his hands on her waist. But Chen Yunxi immediately turned around, flustered, and stepped away from him.
“Brother Sheng, let’s watch the recital first.” Her face was crimson as she stared at the floor. “This… this isn’t the place to…”
Lu Sheng was momentarily speechless. He hadn’t intended anything more. Clearly, just touching her waist had startled her. “Let’s watch the recital, watch the recital,” he said quickly.
The two of them stood side by side again, looking down at the poets from the window. Even so, a trace of nervousness still lingered on Chen Yunxi’s face.
“Out of the room in Golden Light,
Under the tree in frosty night,
Divine scriptures nowhere to find,
Return to see them in plain sight.”
A monk read the accepted poem aloud, earning waves of applause and enthusiastic cheers from the crowd below.
“The poem speaks of someone pursuing the legendary enlightenment recorded in the scriptures of Golden Light Temple,” Chen Yunxi explained softly. “It’s said that once a person attains enlightenment, they can roam freely between heaven and earth, gaining the Dao of eternal life and the secrets of the heavens. The beginning of the poem is simple, but the last line reveals that while people search for treasures everywhere, they overlook the treasure within their own home. That line elevates the entire poem. It’s quite good. But Golden Light Temple is merely a small place. Such a grand poem doesn’t suit it perfectly.”
Lu Sheng nodded. To him, too, the poem was passable at best. Fortunately, the Golden Light Poetry Recital wasn’t an official literary gathering—just an event meant to add liveliness—so its standards were naturally lower.
“Don’t underestimate this Golden Light Temple. There are still some impressive individuals here,” he remarked casually.
“How does Brother Sheng know that?” Chen Yunxi looked up at him.
“Since I’ve said it, there must be some truth to it,” Lu Sheng replied with a faint smile.
Below, the crowd was selecting the next poem.
“Hark the jadeite swallows cry…” The first line sounded lofty enough.
Just then, Lu Sheng felt a warmth against his hand. Chen Yunxi, standing before him, had shifted slightly closer. The hem of her short jade-green skirt lifted subtly as she moved. The back of her thigh brushed against the back of his hand—smooth as fine silk, warm and soft, delicate to the touch.
Lu Sheng’s gaze turned to Chen Yunxi. Her cheeks were flushed crimson, yet she acted as though nothing had happened. But how could anyone fail to notice such intimate contact?
Especially when it was such a sensitive area as the back of her thigh—any higher, and he would be touching her hips, her most intimate place. Such deliberate permission ignited a fierce heat in Lu Sheng’s chest.
Slowly, he turned his hand, letting his palm settle fully against Chen Yunxi’s soft thigh.
Her cheeks deepened in color, yet she continued pretending to focus on the poetry recital below.
“Low the waves of Nine Lakes lie.” The monk read the second line.
Chen Yunxi’s heart fluttered. She had been worried that Lu Sheng might be displeased with her earlier flustered retreat, so now she tried to compensate him.
‘I backed away from Brother Sheng earlier… I should make it up to him. He likes my legs. So… I’ll let him touch them.’ Her long legs had always made her self-conscious, and she wanted to test him—if he truly didn’t mind them, then he wouldn’t draw his hand back.
As for the propriety between men and women, she naively believed there was nothing wrong with letting Brother Sheng touch her “just a little.” She liked him, and she would eventually belong to him anyway. Letting him touch her leg once didn’t seem improper at all.
And she wasn’t entirely wrong. In Mountain-Edge City—indeed, throughout the Northern Lands—the culture was liberal enough that a touch on the leg was hardly scandalous. What she didn’t understand… was how difficult it was to restrain a man once his desire was sparked.
Behind her, Lu Sheng’s eyes turned hazy. His temperature rose as his fingers glided gently across the back of her thigh. Warmth spread between them—hers and his, blending and intensifying.
His hand began to move upward, tracing toward her most sensitive place.
Chen Yunxi’s body went weak at once, turning to water. She tried to push him away, but it was like a small insect trying to shift a towering tree.
“Young Master!”
A voice rang from outside the chamber, snapping Lu Sheng out of his heated trance.
“What’s the matter?” Lu Sheng inhaled deeply, forcing the fire in his chest to settle. His guards would never interrupt him lightly—something important must have happened.
Yin Yang Jade Crane Aquarius Qi surged through Lu Sheng’s body, swiftly quelling the fire of desire burning in him. His vision cleared, sobriety returning as he withdrew his hand from Chen Yunxi’s thigh.
“An urgent memo,” the bodyguard reported from outside the door.
Lu Sheng released Chen Yunxi and strode over. He opened the door and received a wax-sealed letter.
He broke the seal and unfolded it in one swift motion. As his eyes skimmed the contents, his expression darkened immediately.
Li Shunxi had met with misfortune.
The letter came from the Liu sisters. The Martial League was conducting an internal purge, searching for traitors. Shockingly, they had identified five suspects. During one of these screenings, Li Shunxi had been framed—evidence had been planted in his quarters, pointing to him as the murderer of an elderly senior within the league.
Furious, the League Master had imprisoned him on the spot. He was now awaiting trial. Liu Qin pleaded for Lu Sheng to testify on Li Shunxi’s behalf, to prove he was not the killer. If possible, she urged Lu Sheng to help him further—after all, Lu Sheng was the only friend Li Shunxi truly trusted.
But the entire matter stank of manipulation.
Lu Sheng slowly folded the letter, then crushed it in his palm. Activating his Needle Qi, he reduced the paper to fine powder in a heartbeat.
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