Xue Meng had grown up on Sisheng Peak, so naturally, he was familiar with the terrain and all the shortcuts. He eventually managed to catch up with Mo Ran and dragged him all the way to the back mountain.

     The back mountain of Sisheng Peak was the closest place in the entire world to the ghost realm, separated only by an enchanted barrier. Just behind the barrier was the underworld.

     Seeing the dreadful situation on the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person still needed Madam Wang to receive the guests in the front hall even when he was still here. It wasn’t that the man was unwilling but that he really couldn’t step away. The barrier to the ghost realm was torn.

     At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with dense ghostly qi. Many formless ghosts circled in the air, howling and wailing bitterly. A crack had ripped open in the sky, the gap so wide that it could be seen from the mountain gate.

     A bluestone staircase thousands of steps long extended from the crack in the barrier—from the ghost realm beyond the crack. A large, closely packed group of malevolent spirits that had cultivated physical forms climbed down the steps with stumbling, chaotic movements, rushing from the underworld to the mortal realm.

     Any ordinary person would undoubtedly be scared witless upon seeing such a scene. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was also so frightened that his entire body was soaked with a cold sweat. But he’d already grown accustomed to it by now.

     The barrier between the mortal realm and ghost realm was first put in place by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. But over the time passed to come to the present, it grew very delicate and sometimes had spots where it would crack that would then have to be repaired by cultivators.

     However, this was a task that not only did little to progress one’s cultivation but would also consume a substantial amount of spiritual power. It was a grueling task with no personal benefit, strenuous and unrewarding, so very few cultivators of the upper cultivation world were willing to take on this job.

     When malevolent spirits entered the mortal realm, the first to suffer would be the common people of the lower cultivation world. As the protectors of the lower cultivation world, Sisheng Peak alone assumed responsibility for the unpleasant task of repairing the barrier.

     The back mountain of the sect was situated directly at the weakest point in the barrier, so any gaps could be quickly mended. This worn-out barrier would usually tear four or five times a year. It was just like a patched-up pot that wouldn’t hold out.

     At this moment, a man in snow-white robes stood atop the long bluestone steps at the entrance to the ghost realm, wide sleeves swaying in the wind. Sword qi encompassed the area and enveloped him in a surging golden light. With his strength alone, he wiped out the malicious spirits and mended the cracks in the barrier.

     The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance with the aura of an immortal, a natural beauty. From a distance, it was easy to imagine him as a graceful scholar with a studious air studying a scroll beneath a flowering tree.

     But a closer look revealed that he had cold, sword-like brows, phoenix eyes that slanted upwards at the corners, and a high and narrow nose bridge. Though his features were refined and elegant, there was a trace of sharpness in his gaze that seemed especially unsympathetic.

     Mo Ran glanced at him from afar. Although he had prepared himself and believed he was ready, being able to see this person appear alive before him once again, in good health, safe and sound, he still began to tremble faintly from head to toe, down to his very bones.

     He felt half dread and half… excitement.

     His shizun.

     Chu Wanning.

     In the previous life, this was the very person Xue Meng was crying and longing to see when he finally made it to Wushan Palace.

     This was the very man who’d ruined Mo Ran’s vast ambitions and grand plans and was ultimately imprisoned by Mo Ran and tormented until death.

     Logically speaking, Mo Ran should have been pleased, having personally conquered his opponent and taken revenge for his resentment. Like a fish free to leap in the vast ocean or a bird free to fly in the boundless skies, no one could ever stop him again. Mo Ran also initially believed he thought so as well.

     But this didn’t seem to be the case.

     After his shizun’s death, it seemed as if a trace of something else was buried alongside his hatred.

     Mo Ran was uncouth and didn’t recognize that this “something else” was the feeling of having a worthy opponent.

     He only understood that from then on, his long-standing enemy was no more.

     When his shizun had lived, he was afraid and paranoid, trembling despite the lack of cold. The sight of the willow vine resting in his shizun’s hand alone was enough to make his hair stand on end, just like a beaten dog shrinking back from the knocking of a wooden club, its teeth aching and legs giving out as drivel began to drip from the corners of its mouth at the sound. Even the muscles of his calves would spasm from fear.

     Later, when his shizun died, it was the death of the person Mo Ran had most feared. Mo Ran felt as if he’d grown, matured—had finally carried out this act of disgracing his teacher and destroying his elders.

     After that, when his gaze swept across the mortal world, there was no one left who would dare force him to his knees; no one could halt him with a strike.

     To celebrate, he opened a jar of pear blossom white wine and sat on the roof, drinking for the entire night. That night, intoxicated by alcohol, the scars on his back, which had been inflicted by his shizun’s willow vine whip in his youth, seemed to burn with pain once more.

     At this very moment, seeing his shizun reappear before his eyes, Mo Ran could only stare at him. He felt both fear and hatred, but also the faintest hint of ecstasy—such an opponent, once lost and now regained, how could he not be pleased?

     Chu Wanning had no attention to spare for the two disciples who intruded upon the back mountain and only remained keenly focused on opposing the overflowing tide of spirits.

     He had elegant features and long, even brows with a pair of indifferent phoenix eyes beneath. He was pure and otherworldly, his demeanor unlike any other. Even amidst foul wind and bloody rain, his calm and distant expression still remained unchanged. It was almost as if, at this moment, he should instead be sitting down to burn incense and play the qin.

     However, this calm, elegant, and beautiful man was now wielding a longsword that banished evil, gleaming with a chilling light and dripping with bright red blood. With a single flick of his wide sleeve, the sword qi cleaved through the bluestone steps before him with a thunderous explosion. Crushed stones and rubble tumbled as a great chasm broke open the long staircase of several thousand steps and cracked all the way from the mountain gate down to the foot of the mountain.

     Such ferocity.

     How many years had it been since he’d last seen his shizun’s strength firsthand?

     This familiar powerful and overbearing force made Mo Ran’s legs go weak just as before. Unable to stand any longer, he fell to his knees.

     It wasn’t long before Chu Wanning had wiped out the last of the ghosts and skillfully repaired the gaps in the barrier to the ghost realm. After completing the task, he gracefully descended from the sky to come before Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

     He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground before he raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes emitting an icy chill.

     “Causing trouble?”

     Mo Ran took a shuddering breath.

     His shizun certainly possessed the ability to assess a situation and always immediately come to the most accurate conclusion.

     Xue Meng said, “Shizun, when Mo Ran went down the mountain, he committed the crimes of theft and debauchery. I ask Shizun to oversee his punishment.”

     Chu Wanning showed no expression and was silent for a while before saying coldly, “I see.”

     Mo Ran: “…”

     Xue Meng: “…”

     They were both somewhat speechless. What else? Is that it?

     However, just when Mo Ran thought he’d gotten off easy and looked up to glimpse at Chu Wanning, he saw a flash of golden light suddenly cut through the air. It crackled like lightning and slashed directly across Mo Ran’s cheek!!

     Blossoms of blood splattered in all directions!

     The golden light had struck at such an astonishing speed. Never mind dodging, Mo Ran didn’t even have time to blink before the skin of his face was split open with an excruciatingly searing pain.

     Chu Wanning stood frigidly in the dreary night breeze, his hands clasped behind his back.

     The air, still brimming with the foul aura of malicious spirits and ghosts, now combined with the smell of blood and made the forbidden area of the back mountain seem all the more eerie and frightening.

     What had struck Mo Ran was a bundle of entwined willow vines that had, at some point, materialized from thin air in Chu Wanning’s hand.

     The vine was long and narrow, hanging all the way down to his boots, and had bright, tender green leaves sprouting from it.

     Such a clearly elegant object should evoke lines of poetry such as: “Delicate is the willow branch broken off to gift my beloved.”

     It was a pity that Chu Wanning was neither delicate nor had a beloved.

     This willow vine in his hand was, in fact, a holy weapon called Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen radiated a golden-red light, illuminating the surrounding darkness and reflecting the shine of Chu Wanning’s profound eyes.

     Chu Wanning pursed his lips and said menacingly, “Mo Weiyu, you’re so bold. Did you really think I wouldn’t discipline you?”

     If he were actually the fifteen-year-old Mo Ran, he likely wouldn’t have taken these words seriously, thinking his shizun was merely giving a scolding to scare him.

     But the reborn Mo Ran had already thoroughly experienced his shizun’s “discipline” and learned his lesson with blood in the previous life. He suddenly felt a pain in his teeth, and in a moment of anger, his mouth had already opened, ready to deny everything and refuse to admit his guilt, to clear himself of any wrongdoing.

     “Shizun…” With blood trickling down his cheek, Mo Ran raised his eyes, letting them glisten with a thin layer of tears. He knew that he must appear extremely pitiful in his current state. “This disciple has never stolen… has never committed debauchery… Shizun, why do you punish me after only a word from Xue Meng, without even asking me about my side of the story?”

     “…”

     Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle—first, putting on a cute act, and second, putting on a pitiful act.

     Now he tested these tricks on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears nearly fell from his eyes. “Is this disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why is Shizun unwilling to even give me a chance to defend myself?”

     Xue Meng stomped his foot in a rage next to him. “Mo Ran! You, you piece of dogshit! You, you’re truly are shameless! Shizun, don’t listen to him. Don’t be fooled by this scoundrel! He really did steal! The stolen items are still on him!”

     Chu Wanning lowered his eyelashes with an indifferent expression. “Mo Ran, you truly never stole?”

     “Never.”

     “…You should know the consequences of lying to me.”

     Mo Ran’s arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But even though he was caught, he still foolishly refused to admit his guilt. “Shizun, please determine the truth first!”

     Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the glimmering golden vine swept forth once more. But this time, it didn’t lash Mo Ran’s face but instead tightly bound Mo Ran’s body.

     This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to regularly whipping people, the willow vine, Tianwen, had another use—

     Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was firmly locked in Tianwen’s grasp, and asked again, “Did you steal?”

     Mo Ran suddenly felt a familiar agonizing pain pierce his heart. It felt as if a small, sharp-fanged snake had slithered its way into his chest and was wreaking havoc amidst his organs.

     Accompanying the excruciating pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn’t help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: “I… never… ah!!”

     Tianwen’s golden light began to glow with an even greater intensity, as if sensing he was lying. Mo Ran was sweating from the pain but still desperately resisted the torture with all his might.

     This was Tianwen’s second ability besides whipping—interrogation.

     Once bound by Tianwen, no one could lie under its power. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had the ability to force them to speak and give Chu Wanning the answers to his questions.

     In his previous life, only one person had, through sheer strength of cultivation alone, ever managed to shield a secret under Tianwen’s interrogation. That person was none other than the one who had become emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

     Since he’d been reborn, Mo Ran was clinging to a shred of hope that he would still be able to resist Tianwen’s forceful interrogation as he once had back then. But after biting down on his lip for what felt like forever, with beading drops of sweat seeping into his dark black eyebrows and full-body shivers racking his body, he finally collapsed in agony before Chu Wanning’s boots, panting heavily.

     “I… I… stole…”

     The pain abruptly disappeared.

     Mo Ran hadn’t even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder. “Did you commit debauchery?”

     Intelligent people didn’t do stupid things. Since he hadn’t been able to resist Tianwen just a moment ago, there would be even less of a chance for him to do so now. This time, Mo Ran didn’t resist at all, and as soon as the pain struck, he even shouted repeatedly, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!!! Shizun, no more! Please, no more!”

     Xue Meng stood to the side, his face just about turning blue as he said with shock, “You, how could you…? That Rong Jiu person is a man, and yet you actually…”

     No one paid him any attention as the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, and Mo Ran gasped for breath. His entire body was drenched, as if he’d just been fished from the water, and his face was white as paper. His lips trembled uncontrollably, and he lay on the ground, unable to move.

     He looked up at Chu Wanning’s still blurry yet elegant figure through his sweaty eyelashes, at his jade crown and wide sleeves that reached the ground.

     A surge of vicious hatred suddenly welled in his heart—Chu Wanning! This Venerable One’s treatment of you in the past life definitely wasn’t wrong! Even after coming back to live it over again, you’re still just as detestable! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!!

     Chu Wanning had no idea that this wicked disciple cursed all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood in place for a while, his expression dark, then spoke.

     “Xue Meng.”

     Although Xue Meng knew that male beauties were currently a popular pursuit among wealthy merchants and young masters and that many only slept with male prostitutes to try something new, not necessarily because of an actual interest in men, he still found the idea hard to swallow. After a while, he said, “Shizun, this disciple is here.”

     “Mo Ran has violated the mandates of theft, debauchery, and deception and will be taken to Yanluo Hall to repent. Then at dawn tomorrow, he will be brought to the Platform of Sin and Virtue to receive public punishment.”

     Xue Meng was startled. “Wh-what…? Public punishment?”

     This “public punishment” was to drag a disciple who had committed severe wrongdoing before the disciples of the entire sect and, in front of everyone, even the ladies of the dining hall, administer their sentencing and punishment.

     It was utterly humiliating and caused those punished to lose face.

     It should be known that Mo Ran was a young master of Sisheng Peak. Although the internal disciplinary measures of the sect were strict, Mo Ran was of a unique status.

     Since his uncle felt pity for him for losing his parents at such a young age and being forced to live homeless and destitute in the outside world for fourteen years, he always had his own selfish need to protect and coddle Mo Ran even when he would make mistakes, unable to bear punishing him. No matter what Mo Ran did, his uncle would only give him a brief lecture in private—the man had never beaten him once.

     But his shizun unexpectedly didn’t even save face for the honorable sect leader and intended to drag his precious nephew to the Platform of Sin and Virtue to publicly punish and humble Mo-gongzi in front of the entire sect. This was something Xue Meng didn’t expect.

     But Mo Ran wasn’t at all surprised by this outcome. He lay on the ground, his lips forming a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

     How grand and righteous this shizun of his was.

     Chu Wanning truly was cold-blooded.

     In his previous life, when Shi Mei died before his eyes, Mo Ran cried and pleaded, pulling on the hem of his robes, kneeling on the ground begging him for help. But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear to his pleas. And so, his disciple took his last breath at his feet, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and watched without lifting a finger, ignoring him entirely.

     Now, he was simply dragging him to the Platform of Sin and Virtue to undergo sentencing before the public. It was nothing strange.

     Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base currently was. He resented that he couldn’t peel off Chu Wanning’s skin, rip out his nerves, and drink his blood, that he couldn’t yank his hair back and disgrace him as he pleased, couldn’t torture him, destroy his dignity, and make him wish for death…

     For only a moment, he failed to hide the beastlike ferocity in his eyes, and it did not escape Chu Wanning’s notice. He faintly glanced at Mo Ran’s face, his own refined and scholarly features completely devoid of expression.

     “What are you thinking about?”

     Fuck! Tianwen hadn’t been withdrawn yet!

     Mo Ran once again felt the vines binding him tighten and inflict a sharp pain, making his organs feel like they were about to be twisted and crushed. He cried out in pain and shouted the thoughts that had been running through his mind—

     “Chu Wanning! Think you’re so tough?! Watch me fuck you to death!”

     There was only silence.

     Chu Wanning: “…”

     Xue Meng was stupefied: “…”

     Tianwen abruptly returned into Chu Wanning’s palm, turning into small specks of golden light before completely disappearing. Tianwen manifested from Chu Wanning’s very essence and would appear when summoned and vanish at will.

     Xue Meng’s face turned deathly pale as he stuttered, “Sh-Shizun…”

     Chu Wanning was quiet, his delicate, long, inky lashes lowering as he looked at his palm in a daze for a long moment. Then he slowly raised his eyes, his expression shockingly unaffected apart from becoming slightly icier than before. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze that said “this disciple deserves death.” Then he spoke, his voice low, “Tianwen is broken. I’ll go fix it.”

     After saying this, Chu Wanning turned to leave.

     This child, Xue Meng, was a bit slow-witted. “H-how can a holy weapon like Tianwen be broken?”

     Chu Wanning heard it and glanced back at him, once again with “this disciple deserves death.” Xue Meng felt a chill run down his spine.

     Mo Ran lay on the ground, feeling like he was at death’s door, his face blank.

     He really had been fantasizing about finding a chance to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew well that this Chu-zongshi, who held titles like Yuheng of the Night Sky and Beidou Immortal, was someone who had always prioritized elegance and righteousness. More than anything else, he couldn’t endure the thought of being trampled on by others—of being sullied and defeated.

     How could he let Chu Wanning know he was thinking that?!

     Mo Ran let out a whimper like an abandoned dog and covered his face. Recalling the look in Chu Wanning’s eyes as he left, he felt that it probably wouldn’t be long before his death.