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Ch92 - Acting on Impulse




The Buddhist hall’s bright candlelight suddenly extinguished.
Moonlight poured down, falling through the window lattice, casting Chongjue’s seated figure diagonally into ink-like shadows across his plain white cassock.
The shadows suddenly rippled, like ink swirling in a disturbed ink pool, waves spreading outward.
The ripples expanded, the shadow gradually twisting into the form of a tall man.
Chongjue stood with his back to the moonlight, his expression cold as he faced forward.
The man sharing his face wore black robes embroidered with lotus patterns, his long hair loosely tied with a phoenix-patterned ribbon, radiating an energy entirely different from the World-Honored One.
Sinister and wicked.
The evil one sat cross-legged brazenly, elbows resting on his knees, beautiful fingers lazily tracing his face, smiling with pure malice.
“The esteemed World-Honored One of Mount Sumeru, lusting after your own junior disciple—tsk tsk. If Xuanling knew, he’d probably regret not throwing you into Infinite Hell alongside them.”
Chongjue met his gaze coldly: “What memory is that?”
The evil one continued laughing lazily, his fingers casually tapping his face: “What else could it be but your own desires…”
Before he could finish, Chongjue’s dark blue pupils moved, and the evil one’s newly-manifested body suddenly dissolved into black ink, splattering back into shadow.
It took the evil one a long while to reconstitute his form. He looked at Chongjue with near-contempt, saying coldly: “You said it yourself—it’s a memory, so of course it actually happened. Wasn’t it during your three-day seclusion? That’s when I seized your body and with Xiaoxiao…”
Chongjue suddenly said coldly: “Silence!”
The evil one raised an eyebrow.
He’d never respected the virtuous one’s “repaying kindness with virtue” compassion, finding it foolish. Over these past dozen years since Xuanling forcibly separated them, this person had always been coldly indifferent—even his warmth was reserved only for Su Hansheng. Chongjue had never shown such obvious fury before.
Rather than backing down, the evil one fanned the flames further, moving closer to stare directly into Chongjue’s anger-filled dark blue eyes.
The two were separated by pure moonlight, one black, one white, as if divided by an unbridgeable chasm.
“Why the rage?” The evil one’s white pupils were eerie, a smile without warmth: “As if you were so innocent yourself.”
The exalted World-Honored One also harbored filthy desires, didn’t he?
Chongjue looked at him coldly, his eyes carrying a rare ferocity: “Keep your disgusting thoughts to yourself. If you dare touch him again, I won’t show mercy like Xuanling did.”
The evil one laughed heartily: “Disgusting? Desire is natural to all beings. I’m honest and act on impulse—unlike some who can’t even align their words and deeds, yet dare judge me from on high?”
Chongjue’s hand gripping the prayer beads suddenly moved.
Vast spiritual power erupted from nothing, pressing directly toward the evil one.
The evil one laughed loudly, sweeping his wide sleeves. Black robes billowed in the wind as a demon-subduing staff, still bearing dried blood stains, materialized. He gripped it firmly, blood and rust falling like rain.
Two spiritual forces—one azure, one black—collided in the Buddhist hall, the spiritual energy causing the very space to twist.
The evil one smiled without warmth: “Losing composure over a mere fragment of memory? If those bone chains fully dissolve and all related memories flood your consciousness sea, won’t you go mad?”
VIfJNMUT GfYBYp mLaTB: “hTd fUd!”
EITiT mTiTJ’d TJfUNI PTPfiQTA LYiTLBp? EITiT mTiT PfiT?!
GCJ JFfL OyJ LNDqCJz DRtONtfODILe.
WCO EODLz CNFJ mCODqCm mCJ DIDNLLe foRNIIfFJ WOtLz-dOyOtJz HyJ hODLz gJ RtOFOXJz mO IDhC htDzJ LNyqDNqJ?
lTTQJN VIfJNMUT mLA diUYp iTLGIQJN L giTLsQJN qfQJd, dIT TaQY fJT mQATYp mQdIBiTm, ILAdQYp iTdiTLdQJN QJdf AILBfm. KT iLQATB LJ TpTgifm, APQYQJN LA IT AqfsT:
“W’YY NQaT pfU L mLiJQJN, fUd fS GfJAQBTiLdQfJ Sfi fUi AILiTB JLdUiT—mQdIQJ dmTYaT pTLiA, dIT KTLaTJYp EfmTi mQYY GfYYLqAT LNLQJ. oITJ Qd BfTA, AfPTfJT mQYY QJTaQdLgYp AIfUYBTi dIT KTLaTJYp gUiBTJ LJB SfiGT dIT HfUi lLGiTB ugMTGdA df gT ALGiQSQGTB.”
VIfJNMUT’A ILJB IfYBQJN dIT qiLpTi gTLBA SifeT.
Twelve years?
“Twelve years ago, I refused to die,” the evil one’s eyes suddenly turned glacial. “Twelve years hence, don’t expect me to give myself for that false Heaven’s sake. If you’re willing to sacrifice yourself out of compassion, don’t drag me into it.”
With that, his form completely vanished into shadow.
The Buddhist hall returned to silence. Chongjue sat alone amid the chaos, prayer beads hanging at his wrist, so cold his pupils trembled.
Just then, a familiar voice appeared:
“Uncle?”
Chongjue froze, slightly raising his head.
At midnight, Su Hansheng stumbled forward, sleep-hazed, holding a lamp, his clothes disheveled. Still half-asleep, his voice carried a nasal whine: “What happened?”
The emotions Chongjue had forcibly suppressed suddenly surged. He only glanced at Su Hansheng once, his eyes as if scalded, nearly fumbling as he looked away.
The memory the evil one had forcibly implanted—Chongjue didn’t dare even touch it. He expressionlessly waved his hand, restoring the chaotic Buddhist hall to order, his voice cold:
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
Su Hansheng shook his head, casually setting the lamp on the small table, then snuggled against Chongjue’s side, tugging his sleeve as he drifted off. He was scarcely conscious, lacking his usual calculating nature, instinctively dependent on Chongjue as he murmured: “I woke from a nightmare.”
Su Hansheng’s head barely touched Chongjue’s folded knees, yet Chongjue felt a rush of scalding warmth transmit through the nearly-touching contact, nearly making him instinctively escape.
The World-Honored One of Mount Sumeru forcibly maintained composure, closing his eyes to work the prayer beads—out of sight, out of mind.
Su Hansheng wore thin garments, curling on the ground in slight shivers. He’d clearly been truly frightened by the nightmare, his small face pale as paper. After waiting for Chongjue’s response and receiving none, he could only respond to himself drowsily:
“What nightmare did Xiaoxiao have?”
“I dreamed Uncle didn’t care for me. People captured me to extract my phoenix bone. I was covered in blood, calling to Heaven and Earth with no answer.”
Chongjue still said nothing.
Su Hansheng continued conversing with himself:
“Uncle would never abandon Xiaoxiao, much less allow anyone to harm you.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
Chongjue: “…”
Chongjue worked the prayer beads, listening to Su Hansheng’s eyelids growing heavy as he continued humming to himself, holding one-sided conversations. After a while, Chongjue said quietly: “Sleep.”
Su Hansheng shook his head: “I’m not tired.”
Chongjue kept his eyes closed, his mind filled with chaotic, incomprehensible thoughts. Su Hansheng clung to his leg, humming softly, and no amount of Buddhist scripture Chongjue recited could help. After trying for a long time, he finally gave up completely, sighed silently, and opened his eyes as his feathered lashes fluttered.
“I won’t abandon you…”
The moment the words left his lips, Chongjue glanced over and saw that Su Hansheng, who’d just claimed “I’m not tired,” was now sound asleep, clutching his sleeve.
Chongjue: “…”
Though the Buddhist hall had matting, it was ultimately hard ground, cold and uncomfortable. Chongjue picked Su Hansheng up and carried him back to the bed in the rear quarters.
Su Hansheng seemed to still be having nightmares, his brow tightly furrowed. The moment he was placed on the bed, his entire body shivered violently, instinctively wrapping his arms around Chongjue’s neck.
Chongjue’s entire body stiffened.
Su Hansheng’s dark hair lay disheveled on the pillow, his face pale and delicate. Perhaps from years of the phoenix bone’s scorching, only his lips were red.
His hands grasped at Chongjue’s shoulders, seemingly unwilling to let him leave. His furrowed brow suggested he was grasping at his final lifeline, murmuring: “Chongjue…”
Chongjue’s dark blue eyes suddenly flashed white.
The scene before him seemed to overlap and merge with that fleeting memory from moments ago. Su Hansheng tilted his head, breathing in gasps, his hands gripping Chongjue’s shoulder transformed into desperate, aching desire during intimate moments.
Chongjue remained completely rigid, unable to move, only staring down at the person beneath him in a daze.
Su Hansheng’s thin garment lay in disarray, appearing ready to tear at any moment. He opened his beautiful amber eyes, yet they lacked their usual cunning and brilliant vitality—instead seeming clouded by a hazy mist.
He rose slightly while gripping Chongjue’s shoulder, his long hair and robes falling away, revealing exquisite features and an elegant neck.
Su Hansheng gently kissed the corner of Chongjue’s lips, his brows and eyes carrying an enchantment that was unfamiliar to Chongjue. He laughed softly, murmuring as he called to him:
“Uncle.”
Boom—
A Sanskrit sound mixed with thunder suddenly echoed in his ears. Chongjue jerked backward as if escaping purgatory, his soul still trembling as he looked ahead.
As his scattered vision focused, Su Hansheng was sprawled four-ways-up on the bed, lazily rolling over. Perhaps he’d pressed on his hair, as he hissed in pain even in his sleep.
Chongjue stared, dazed.
Everything moments ago…
Had been an illusion.
***
Su Hansheng had nightmares the entire night.
In his dreams, desperate and anguished, he’d woken crying several times. It wasn’t until the morning bell woke him groggily that he sat on the bed thinking for ages before faintly remembering…
That horrible nightmare causing such despair last night was purely because the snack vendor gave him only one small wooden spoon for two cups of sugar water.
Su Hansheng’s face turned green. What kind of ridiculous dream was that?
After dressing and washing, Su Hansheng initially wanted to find Chongjue, but reconsidering how Chongjue had avoided him last night, he’d certainly ignore him again this morning. Coming in the evening would probably earn another cold shoulder.
Better not invite trouble.
He’d ask his second senior sister for advice after class on how to make men infatuated and unable to leave him.
Despite this reasoning, as Su Hansheng passed the Buddhist hall’s front door, he couldn’t help but secretly peek past the screen.
Chongjue was still there, leisurely brewing tea early in the morning.
Su Hansheng pouted again.
Brewing tea at dawn—no wonder he couldn’t sleep at night and was wrecking the place.
Having mentally complained, Su Hansheng was about to leave when he suddenly heard Chongjue say from behind the screen: “Xiaoxiao, come eat breakfast.”
Su Hansheng froze, unable to help glancing at the sky above the floating clouds.
The sun was rising in the east—nothing unusual.
Chongjue: “What are you doing?”
Su Hansheng made an “oh” sound and turned back, obediently sitting down.
Chongjue pushed over Su Hansheng’s favorite pastries, lowering his eyes as he gracefully prepared tea with practiced ease, as if Su Hansheng’s attempted seduction last night had never happened.
Su Hansheng couldn’t quite gauge Chongjue’s emotions, so he obediently ate breakfast.
He felt something was odd about Chongjue today.
Chongjue poured a cup of hot tea for Su Hansheng and said indifferently: “I’ve already requested leave from Vice Dean Zou for you today. Wherever you wish to go, I’ll accompany you.”
Su Hansheng, munching on pastries like a hamster, froze at this. He looked at Chongjue confused.
“Huh?”
“Tomorrow I will return to Mount Sumeru for seclusion. I’ll emerge in about ten years,” Chongjue kept his eyes lowered, not meeting Su Hansheng’s gaze, his tone unchanged from usual. “I’ll spend today with you—we can go anywhere you’d like.”
Su Hansheng completely froze.
Wasn’t it supposed to be only two or three years? How had it suddenly become ten after one night’s sleep?
**