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Ch133 - Fleeting Touch




Never gambled, never indulged, Su Xuanlin dragged him out to eat and drink.
In the main hall, solemn and dignified.
Xie Zhizhi had set out wine jars and had disciples buy a pile of food, lounging with his legs crossed, waiting for the sect leader to drink until dawn.
A moment later, the sect leader arrived, bringing a Buddhist cultivator.
Xie Zhizhi stopped lounging, immediately straightening up and bowing coldly. “Greetings, World-Honored One, Sect Leader.”
“Family,” Su Xuanlin waved his hand. “No need for formalities. Come, drink with us.”
Xie Zhizhi hesitated. “The World-Honored One too?”
Chongjue shook his head. “I’ll pass…”
“He’s coming too,” Su Xuanlin interrupted, lazily crossing his legs and meeting Chongjue’s disapproving gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t you promise me yesterday? If Xiaoxiao wants to go out with you, you’ll drink three rounds with me—this is the first. Come.”
Chongjue: “…”
Chongjue had no choice but to sit down.
Xie Zhizhi picked up a small wine cup to pour, but Su Xuanlin clicked his tongue, slamming a wine jar in front of Chongjue. “Here, drink it all in one go.”
Chongjue: “…”
Chongjue gave him a cold look, as if he wanted to smash the jar over his head.
Xie Zhizhi quickly stopped Su Xuanlin, giving him a stern look.
They hadn’t even started drinking, and he was already causing trouble.
Switching to a small cup, Chongjue’s expression remained sour.
Three years ago, when his evil thoughts controlled his body, he’d drunk once. The scene…
It was too terrible for Chongjue to recall.
Now, under Su Xuanlin’s watchful eye, Chongjue couldn’t guarantee that if he got drunk, he wouldn’t throw his clothes at Xiaoxiao’s head in front of his father.
The cup was filled with wine. Su Xuanlin tapped his own cup on the table, signaling a toast, then drank it all.
If it were the old Chongjue, he wouldn’t have touched a drop unless the Three Realms were ending. But now, with his virtuous nature restored, choosing was as simple as a single thought.
Chongjue looked down at the cup, and in the end, couldn’t resist the temptation of his evil thoughts. He lifted the cup.
Su Xuanlin was secretly watching. Seeing him pick up the cup, he finally relaxed.
He’d thought he’d broken the man, but no—his evil thoughts were gradually taking over this body.
Chongjue frowned and drank half the cup. As soon as he set it down, Su Xuanlin cheerfully refilled it. “Tonight, we drink until we’re drunk. Don’t worry, I won’t let you run off and cause trouble. Even if you do, I’ll bring you back, so the World-Honored One’s reputation won’t be ruined by wine.”
Chongjue glanced at him, silently drinking.
One cup led to another.
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Xie Zhizhi said flatly, “You’ll get what’s coming to you sooner or later.”
Su Xuanlin burst out laughing, utterly shameless.
Just as he was about to urge Chongjue to drink a few more cups, Chongjue, suddenly cold-faced, said, “I’m still sober. I’m not drunk.”
Su Xuanlin: “…”
Who asked you?
Su Xuanlin suppressed a laugh. “Alright, not drunk. Want a few more cups?”
Chongjue shook his head. “A little wine is pleasant. Moderation is key. Don’t get drunk.”
Su Xuanlin nearly laughed out loud.
Normally, at this point, Chongjue would be causing all sorts of drunken trouble, rambling about becoming a Buddha and dragging them to chant sutras.
Su Xuanlin usually didn’t want to hear those boring sutras, but when Chongjue was drunk, his mind couldn’t keep up, and he’d chant the sutras haltingly, pausing after every line as if arguing with himself.
He’d expected to hear the World-Honored One’s strange sutras again, so Su Xuanlin had even brought out a recording pearl, planning to record it and mock him the next day.
But instead, Chongjue slammed the table and stood up, his expression cold and no different from usual. He glanced at Su Xuanlin, calmly straightened his robes, and said, “I’m leaving.”
Su Xuanlin was still holding the recording pearl, quickly calling after him. “Where are you going?”
Chongjue replied, “To Xiaoxiao’s place.”
Su Xuanlin’s head spun.
Why was he going to Xiaoxiao’s place for no reason?
Xie Zhizhi, however, frowned, sensing something unusual.
Decades ago, the World-Honored One, though he drank and gambled—never actually gambling—wasn’t bound by the taboos of Buddhist cultivators, often dragged by Su Xuanlin to drink. Back then, he was devoted to Buddhism, only wanting to pass his tribulation and achieve enlightenment, so even when drunk, he’d think of cultivation, chanting sutras.
Now, his tribulation was over. He could return to Mount Sumeru and become a true World-Honored One whenever he wanted, yet he insisted on staying at Yingxu Sect.
… and even when drunk, he was thinking of Xiaoxiao!
Remembering that the World-Honored One always thought of the most important things, Xie Zhizhi’s eyelid twitched, quietly gasping in shock, finding it absurd and ridiculous!
Su Xuanlin grabbed Chongjue’s arm. “Don’t be silly. It’s late. Xiaoxiao’s already asleep.”
But Chongjue ignored him, brushing Su Xuanlin aside and flying toward the back mountain.
—Even drunk, he remembered the way.
Su Xuanlin sent his spiritual sense out, seeing Chongjue safely reach Hanmang Garden without falling, and finally relaxed.
He turned, meeting Xie Zhizhi’s look of disbelief.
“What?” Su Xuanlin asked.
Xie Zhizhi, exasperated, said, “You’re just letting the World-Honored One go alone to see Xiaoxiao?”
“What’s wrong with that?” Su Xuanlin asked, confused. “Two grown men. Do we need to avoid suspicion?”
Xie Zhizhi: “…”
Xie Zhizhi nearly pinched his own nose, furious. “You set up that terrible marriage for Xiaoxiao with Qi Jianyi, who was also a man! Haven’t you considered that Xiaoxiao might be a man who loves men?”
Su Xuanlin frowned. “Even if Xiaoxiao loves men, he wouldn’t fall for his uncle. And Chongjue always has his limits. You saw how he kept refusing to drink, clinging to his Buddhist precepts. How could he ever do something as improper as lust?”
Xie Zhizhi: “But!”
Su Xuanlin said, “Don’t imagine things. It’s disgusting.”
Xie Zhizhi: “…”
Xie Zhizhi nearly spat blood.
He wanted to go to Hanmang Garden and drive Chongjue out, but his status and cultivation weren’t enough. The only one who could match Chongjue was an oblivious Celestial Lord!
Su Xuanlin was still looking for his recording pearl.
“Hey, it was just here. Where did it go?”
—
In Hanmang Garden.
Xiaoxiao, having slept too much during the day, tossed and turned for a while but couldn’t fall asleep. He finally sat up cross-legged on the bed, closing his eyes to cultivate.
This body, blessed by Heaven’s Will, cultivated almost a thousand miles a day. In just a few days, the barrier that had stubbornly refused to budge before was beginning to loosen. In a little while, he’d probably reach the Nascent Soul stage.
Xiaoxiao sat in meditation, the candlelight spilling from the canopy, illuminating his handsome features.
After circulating spiritual energy through his meridians for several small cycles, his mind gradually calmed. He sighed softly, not yet opening his eyes, but suddenly noticed a faint scent of wine lingering around him.
Wine?
Xiaoxiao opened his eyes in confusion, nearly falling backward.
On the narrow bed, Chongjue had somehow arrived, sitting before him, leaning slightly toward him. The candlelight reflected in his dark blue eyes, filled with a look Xiaoxiao couldn’t understand.
Xiaoxiao stared blankly. “Uncle?”
Chongjue’s voice was low, lazily humming “mm,” his gaze fixed on Xiaoxiao’s slightly parted lips. He leaned close, his presence unapologetically oppressive.
In Xiaoxiao’s instincts, an uncle like this meant he was about to be eaten.
Last time, he’d been afraid. This time, for some reason, Xiaoxiao wasn’t afraid at all. He just tilted his head, watching.
“Uncle, are you going to eat me?”
Xiaoxiao’s youthful features were gradually fading. Now, his face and mind were almost indistinguishable from when he’d reached adulthood, only his memories still missing.
Hearing this, Chongjue chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I won’t eat you.”
Xiaoxiao said “oh,” looking at Chongjue, feeling he was different from usual.
During the day, Chongjue’s gaze was always on the chessboard. Even when he wanted to look at Xiaoxiao, he’d only glance casually before looking away.
He was reserved and gentle.
But now, Chongjue’s eyes were fixed on him, filled with naked, unhidden desire and heat.
Xiaoxiao’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, as if something empty inside him was suddenly filled.
Before, he didn’t understand why he always tugged at his sleeve while he was playing chess, as if just being looked at was enough to make him kick his feet in satisfaction. Now he understood.
What he wanted was this open, honest gaze.
On the narrow bed, Xiaoxiao leaned forward, placing his hands on Chongjue’s shoulders.
He seemed to want to follow his instincts, but when he got close, he froze, unsure what to do next.
Chongjue seemed about to move, but then a familiar voice came from outside:
“Xiaoxiao? Are you asleep?”
Xiaoxiao was startled by Su Xuanlin’s voice. Without thinking, he pushed Chongjue down and quickly pulled the blanket over both of them.
Su Xuanlin, whether because of Xie Zhizhi’s words or simply searching for his lost recording pearl, came to Hanmang Garden and saw the light still on. He pushed the door open.
“Xiaoxiao?”
Su Xuanlin’s cultivation was high. His spiritual sense unconsciously swept the room, instantly knowing there were two people on the bed. But Xiaoxiao held his breath, terrified of being caught, his heart pounding against Chongjue’s.
After calling twice with no response, Su Xuanlin muttered, “Why didn’t you blow out the lamp if you’re asleep?”
His spiritual sense swept the room, not detecting Chongjue, so he blew out the lamp and closed the door, leaving to worry about Chongjue.
Under the quilt, the candlelight was blocked, and only their breathing could be heard.
The Buddhist beads on Chongjue’s wrist glowed faintly, masking his aura. By that light, he looked at the person on top of him. Almost unconsciously, he suddenly reached up, pressed his hand on Xiaoxiao’s neck, and forcefully pulled him down.
Xiaoxiao’s pupils trembled, startled by Chongjue’s sudden aggression. Instinctively, he tried to push up from Chongjue’s chest.
The quilt rustled.
Chongjue held Xiaoxiao down, but only lightly touched his forehead.
A fleeting kiss, like a dragonfly skimming water.
***