Chapter 5

The young man's face, pink as spring peach blossoms, is the most beautiful moon over the sea, bright and shining.

This face ought to be gentle; gazing at it, it looks so beautiful it would slip from one's grasp and shatter at any second without careful protection.

But at this moment, his soft, crimson lips utter words utterly unbefitting his face……

If a single false word is spoken, the Pei clan will have no descendants for three generations.

Staring at Wen Qingyin's calm yet slightly panicked face, Pei Junheng narrowed his eyes. At the same time, gazes from all directions flicked over, too many to ignore, as if everyone was secretly watching the spectacle.

Everyone present obviously heard the words spoken by this young sect master of the Cloud Immortal Sect, Fang Qian; sword cultivators' expressions twisted, while artifact and talisman cultivators wore complex faces, pretending nothing happened but unable to suppress their gossip.

Who doesn't know that Pei Junheng of the Myriad Day Sword Sect has been the premier immortal talent of the inland seas since childhood?

When Pei Junheng was born, a pure-white divine dragon appeared in the clouds, and the fierce sharkfolk of the inland seas retracted their sharp webbed feet, encircling Tai Carriage in submission.

As this young sect master ages, his traits unlike ordinary people become ever more evident.

He possesses a resilience and composure beyond his years; a swordsman should be cold-hearted and unfeeling, his will like a blade that can split boulders and sever great whales.

Pei Junheng——

As if born for the sword.

No one is more suited to wield a sword than he.

But when this premier immortal talent becomes linked to these lascivious rumors, especially concerning his archrival Wen Qingyin, everyone quietly pricks up their ears.

"What the hell is 'piss and shit'? Does he even know what he's saying!" Qiu Sanchi snapped angrily, his otherwise handsome face about to twist.

Wen Qingyin tapped the fingers resting on the desk, he endured Pei Junheng's gaze that could almost freeze a person to death, then turned his head and whispered to Zi Shu Zhi: "When did he arrive?"

Zi Shu Zhi's voice trembled: "He came the moment you uttered your first word."

It seems he heard every word without missing a syllable.

Wen Qingyin's vision went black.

Holding his forehead, he never imagined his first random fabrication would actually be caught red‑handed by the very person involved. A dozen plans flashed through his mind, but then he thought: why should he fear Pei Junheng?

He must never show weakness and lose morale before the contest even begins.

Wen Qingyin's composure returned, but before he could turn his head he felt someone sit down beside him.

Someone actually dared to take the empty seat next to him?

Everyone in the Rainbow Rain Pavilion up front clearly recognized that no one dared sit beside him, yet now someone is willing to take that seat.

He turned his face, and a handsome visage came into view.

The person before him was precisely the main character Wen Qingyin had just imagined—Pei Junheng.

Upon meeting Wen Qingyin's gaze, Pei Junheng lightly raised his brows, his calm expression sending a chill through the onlooker's heart.

"Entangled nonsense? Piss and shit?"

His cool voice gave no hint of joy or anger.

Each time Pei Junheng repeated a word, Wen Qingyin's heart jolted, a faint embarrassment wrapping around him.

Wen Qingyin: ……

"I don't understand what you're saying."

He shifted his gaze, avoiding Pei Junheng's eyes.

But in an instant Wen Qingyin realized that such avertive gaze made him lose momentum, so he turned his eyes back.

Wen Qingyin stared at Pei Junheng without fear, while Pei Junheng also chose not to withdraw his gaze, merely gaining a keen interest whenever their eyes met.

Thus, to the onlookers, it was merely a quiet, strange tableau of the two locking eyes.

For a moment, no one dared to step forward and interrupt.

The talisman cultivator up front who had been probing Wen Qingyin for gossip felt the surroundings quiet, turned around, saw Pei Junheng himself sitting ahead, and quickly turned back.

Even after turning away, the image of the two sharing a deep, lingering gaze remained stuck in his mind.

The talisman cultivator stroked his chin in shock, wondering if everything the young sect master Wen had said was actually true.

Wen Qingyin's eyes are a slightly rounded innocent arc; when he opens them to look at someone, they unintentionally impart a pure innocence, yet the outer corners tilt upward, adding a hint of slyness to that innocence—when he glances askance, besides an aloof nobility, a subtle allure lurks.

At this moment those eyes locked onto him, and Pei Junheng saw stubbornness within them.

An old man once said, "Wen Qingyin has a frail, pitiful face, yet his whole body is rebellious—no three oxen could drag him." Now it seems this saying holds some truth.

The wind brushed Wen Qingyin's forehead, fine black strands drifting before his eyes, making them itch.

Wen Qingyin blinked, then lifted his right hand to sweep the hair blocking his eyes aside.

That jade‑white hand shot up, and Pei Junheng faintly saw a narrow, vicious red mark in the center of his palm.

His previously constricted pupils shrank further, and Pei Junheng's hand hanging at his side twitched, as if to grab Wen Qingyin's hand.

"Since everyone's here, please take your seats quickly—we're about to begin today's entrance lesson!"

Chang Fu Shangjun's voice broke the silent standoff; he hurried into the Rainbow Rain Pavilion, urging the new students to sit down promptly.

Hearing the voice, Wen Qingyin turned over, leaving only a profile for Pei Junheng.

As if startled, Pei Junheng's eyes narrowed, and he silently lowered the hand he had extended.

Seeing the students in the Rainbow Rain Pavilion already seated, Chang Fu Shangjun placed the scroll in his hands on the table and began today's course introduction:

"You all come from different sects and cultivate different arts. Therefore you have come to Yingzhou Academy to learn the martial techniques common throughout the inland seas."

Unlike Qing Xuan Shangjun's habitual smiling face, Chang Fu Shangjun gives off a refined, scholarly air, like a gentle elder.

"In your own cultivation, you have surely transferred power to fellow disciples of the same sect. But at Yingzhou Academy, since your peers practice different arts, you should make better use of the spiritual power inherently within your bodies."

The inhabitants of the Ten Isles Four Immortal Mountains in the inland seas are heaven's favored; infants born in the inland seas arrive with an inner elixir, which is the source of the body's spiritual power. Spiritual power resides and travels through the meridians, the body's innate energy. As the inland seas' people age and cultivate arts, they refine that spiritual power into magical power for their own use.

Chang Fu Shangjun earnestly urged: "So now, please extend your palms, turn to face the classmate sitting beside you……"

Wen Qingyin obeyed, extending his hand and turning his body, but his palm brushed warm skin, and he saw his own palm about to meet the other's large hand.

He blinked, then belatedly realized what was happening.

His seatmate now is Pei Junheng!!!

He didn't want to press palms with Pei Junheng; merely touching it made Wen Qingyin feel extremely uncomfortable.

So, just before their palms were about to meet, Wen Qingyin hastily changed direction, while Pei Junheng still stood there with his hand outstretched.

Thus arose an extremely bizarre scene: Pei Junheng stretched his arm toward Wen Qingyin's shoulder, palm upright, while Qingyin sat there, palm upright toward empty air with no one present.

Behind him, Zi Shu Zhi kindly instructed the talisman cultivator beside him: "Go switch places with the little sect master."

He hadn't expected Chang Fu Shangjun to have such a demand; at the time he simply found a seat behind the little sect master and sat down. Had he known, he would have preferred to sit beside the little sect master himself.

The talisman cultivator glanced at the stern, sword‑like Pei Junheng and firmly shook his head in refusal.

He wouldn't dare sit together with Pei Junheng!

Among the students pairing up palm to palm, Wen Qingyin and Pei Junheng's stalemate looked especially out of place, quickly drawing Chang Fu Shangjun's attention.

"Why haven't you pressed your palms together?"

Chang Fu Shangjun walked over smiling, his expression genial.

Seeing Wen Qingyin and Pei Junheng still unmoving, Chang Fu Shangjun leisurely reminded: "Everyone at the academy should be harmonious and loving~"

Feeling the gazes from all sides, Wen Qingyin gritted his teeth and reluctantly turned himself around.

Their palms met precisely with the other person's ready hand, skin touching, and for an instant it felt as if a tiny current mischievously passed through.

It was the same warm sensation as when they had shaken hands that morning.

Wen Qingyin lifted his eyes and saw Pei Junheng's eyes half‑lowered, unable to discern their color.

Wen Qingyin's slender hand happened to be one size smaller than the palm it met, appearing to be cradled within Pei Junheng's large palm, looking strangely harmonious.

But what Wen Qingyin thought was: "Today I've touched Pei Junheng's hand too many times; I need to go back and wash my hands thoroughly to get rid of the bad luck."

Chang Fu Shangjun completely failed to notice the undercurrents between Wen Qingyin and Pei Junheng; instead, seeing their palms joined, he relaxed his brows and revealed a relieved smile.

"That's how it should be; classmates ought to be harmonious. All right, after you press palms together, then close your eyes."

The courses taught at Yingzhou Academy were all brand‑new, never studied before, so Wen Qingyin closed his eyes following Chang Fu Shangjun's words.

After his vision vanished, the sensation in his palms became markedly hard to ignore.

He could almost feel the other person's heartbeat through their palms.

Chang Fu Shangjun's instruction continued: "Feel the most primal, deepest spiritual power within your body, let it travel slowly along the meridians, and transmit it through your palms."

Following Chang Fu Shangjun's words, Wen Qingyin earnestly directed the flow of his inner spiritual power, immersing himself in cultivation; the disturbance caused by Pei Junheng's tangled thoughts temporarily vanished, and he focused on sensing the pace of spiritual power moving through the meridians.

Spiritual power gradually gathered in his palm along the meridians; just as Wen Qingyin prepared to transmit it, a powerful surge of spiritual power irresistibly streamed in through his palm and fingertips.

This spiritual power swept forcefully through every inch of his meridians, charging straight toward his inner elixir—his sensitive, fragile inner elixir.

Just a touch, and a tingling numbness exploded like fireworks from the crown of his head, penetrating deep into his marrow, making his toes want to curl.

"There exists a 'barrier' between disciples of different sects, so you may encounter obstacles when transmitting spiritual power… huh?"

Watching the magical power glow surging between Pei Junheng and Wen Qingyin's palms, Chang Fu Shangjun's words trailed off.

That spiritual power was about to plunge into his inner elixir, striking at it, and Wen Qingyin violently wrenched his hand free from Pei Junheng's.

As he lifted his gaze, he noticed a cool glimmer of tears at the corners of his eyes, though he didn't know when they had appeared.

Now the rampaging spiritual power had finally dissipated within his body, yet the tingling numbness remained deep in his marrow; the feeling of being forcibly opened made Wen Qingyin's bones go numb. His most vulnerable, soft spot lay exposed to anyone's grasp, and that filled Wen Qingyin with shock and fear.

He had to bend his waist and clutch the hem of his clothing to barely alleviate the lingering sensation of his inner elixir being struck.

Pei Junheng's hand had already withdrawn after Wen Qingyin broke free; Wen Qingyin bowed his waist, his slender neck drooping like a slaughtered swan.

He opened his hand, Pei Junheng intending to reach out and touch Wen Qingyin, but when Wen Qingyin lifted his face, that glint of tears froze Pei Junheng's motion in place.

He seemed to stare blankly for a moment.

"Have you two ever exchanged spiritual power before? Logically, the barrier between sword cultivators and medicine cultivators should be even thicker…"

Chang Fu Shangjun could not make sense of the scene he had just witnessed.

"Exchanged spiritual power?"

As soon as those words were spoken, the entire Rainbow Rain Pavilion fell silent, and everyone's expressions turned strange.