Chapter 9

At that moment, Wen Qingyin really wanted to turn around and escape through the window behind him.

What bad luck has he fallen into today, running into Pei Junheng every time! Saying bad things about people isn't scary; the point is that he gets caught every time he says them!

Amid the complex gazes of Wan Wanqiu and Zi Shu Zhi, Wen Qingyin took a deep breath to calm himself, steadied his expression, then turned to face Pei Junheng.

After turning around, Wen Qingyin's face showed no trace of the nervousness of having been caught badmouthing someone behind their back; instead he proactively asked Pei Junheng, "Young Sect Master, do you have any business?"

This rapid change of expression inevitably made the onlooker Wan Wanqiu admire the mental fortitude of the Wen Sect Young Master, who remained as composed as if Mount Tai had collapsed before him without changing expression, completely unlike……

Not like he had just loudly said that Pei Junheng resembled a pug.

The youth stared at himself with righteous confidence, instead looking like he was being wronged; Pei Junheng's gaze lingered on Wen Qingyin's lightly bitten lower lip.

He bit his lip again.

Wen Qingyin might not even be aware of this habitual little motion; although he fears pain, he unconsciously bites his lip whenever he's unhappy.

Apparently sensing Pei Junheng's gaze, his white teeth quickly retracted, his full lower lip trembling slightly with the motion, like a ripe fruit about to fall from a tree, still bearing the marks of being bitten.

After Shangjun Chang Fu finished saying they could move freely, the disciples of the Myriad Noon Sword Sect in the Rainbow Rain Pavilion spontaneously gathered together, awaiting this Young Sect Master, Pei Junheng.

This time, they intend to secure first place in the sect tournament, definitely letting those feeble medicine cultivators learn just how formidable their sword cultivators are!

Even if their own skills are lacking, they still have the Young Sect Master; it goes without saying that first place is already in his grasp.

After all, who doesn't know who the number one immortal in the world is nowadays? But it's their Young Sect Master!

One sword pierces the clouds, shattering the nine heavens; its blade's light shines like broad daylight, hence the name Myriad Noon.

And nowadays, only Pei Junheng possesses a youthful sword technique that carries the momentum to pierce the firmament.

The sword cultivators were already imagining how magnificent it would be when the Myriad Noon Sword Sect's totem shone on the hundred‑zhang stone pillars, rubbing their palms in excitement, but only one among them looked uneasy.

Qiu Sanchi still felt immense guilt for dragging the Young Sect Master into trouble earlier; he didn't think he had misspoken, only that he shouldn't have implicated Pei Junheng.

The Young Sect Master is like a sword ridge's edge—he shouldn't be bothered by even a hint of wind or snow, let alone apologize to those medicine cultivators in front of the Rainbow Rain Pavilion's disciples.

Seeing Pei Junheng approach, Qiu Sanchi murmured with a dejected expression, "Young Sect Master……"

After saying that, his voice caught again, and he lowered his head in shame.

The sword cultivator disciples beside him understood Qiu Sanchi's feelings; one reached out and patted his shoulder, comforting him: "What you said is simply the truth—those sly, deceitful medicine cultivators, who knows what schemes they pulled on our forefather back then…… Young Sect Master!"

That disciple had wanted to continue denouncing the medicine cultivators' crimes, but upon catching a glimpse of Pei Junheng's solemn face, he immediately fell silent in fright.

"Just now in the hall I already spoke of speaking cautiously." Pei Junheng's eyes sank, "We must not let others say that the Myriad Noon Sword Sect has lost the virtue of a gentleman."

His gaze swept over the speaking‑up disciple, who immediately shrank back in fear.

Although Pei Junheng is still young, among the Myriad Noon Sword Sect disciples who entered together there are even some older than him, yet none dare deny his authority.

Although still a youth, Pei Young Sect Master has long displayed an boundless authority unlike that of his peers.

From the faintly revealed blade‑light one can glimpse the unstoppable golden radiance stretching ahead.

Because of Pei Junheng's words, the disciples fell silent, sinking into a deathlike stillness, and Pei Junheng looked at the head‑lowered Qiu Sanchi: "Qiu Sanchi."

Has the Young Sect Master forgiven him?

Qiu Sanchi lifted his head at those words, only to see Pei Junheng telling him, "You come with me to see Wen Qingyin and apologize to him."

"Why——" Qiu Sanchi blurted out instinctively.

Have him apologize to that Wen Qingyin!? Impossible! Everything he said is true!

"Young Sect Master, have you forgotten what happened back then because of him!?" Back then, Wen Qingyin nearly caused the Young Sect Master's meridians to rupture, almost killing him; why does the Young Sect Master still care about this, even insisting he apologize?

Qiu Sanchi spoke sternly, yet his words elicited a firm reply from Pei Junheng: "One matter begins, one matter ends. Today's affair is indeed your breach of etiquette."

But——!

Just as Qiu Sanchi was about to speak again, Pei Junheng's sweeping gaze pinned him in place.

Pei Junheng turned his head; not far away was the youth surrounded by flower branches before the window.

His voice was low, yet carried convincing power.

"In the sect tournament, I will make him lose to me."

"I will show no mercy."

Hearing those words, Qiu Sanchi's indignation gradually eased.

He should trust the Young Sect Master.

As for what happened back then, the Young Sect Master must have already seen through the true nature of those medicine cultivators.

Thus Qiu Sanchi and Pei Junheng walked toward the place where Wen Qingyin was.

Holding layered pale‑blue blossoms, with even his strands of hair faintly glowing, and a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, Wen Qingyin looked like a fairy fallen from the heavens to the mortal realm.

As Qiu Sanchi inwardly despised Wen Qingyin's bewitching façade, the closer they got, the clearer his words became.

"Pei Junheng, in my presence, is no different from an old dog—just a clinging mutt."

"Love can change a person's appearance dramatically."

"He, at most, is just a pug."

All the sword cultivators who heard those words clearly came to a halt.

A pug……

Qiu Sanchi boldly stole a glance at Pei Junheng, who had suddenly stopped ahead of him, and inexplicably saw a palpable chill condensing from his own Young Sect Master's back.

Indeed, this shameless medicine cultivator is exactly how they portray their Young Sect Master outside!

Recovering from shock, Qiu Sanchi immediately regarded Wen Qingyin with shared hatred.

He had almost forgotten that he was brought by Pei Junheng to apologize to Wen Qingyin.

And yet, after being caught, Wen Qingyin still wore an innocent look—truly…… the utmost shamelessness!

In just a few short moments, Qiu Sanchi had already cursed the medicine cultivators present over and over in his mind.

His eyes flickered, and he saw Zi Shu Zhi looking down on him; he immediately crossed his arms and glared back.

Ever‑cunning Wan Wanqiu instantly sensed something amiss, secretly turning and running back into the midst of the talisman cultivators gathered together.

Seeing Pei Junheng silent for a moment, Wen Qingyin gradually grew bold and fearless.

His clear eyes rolled, and he flung the flower in his hand toward the window; the blossom, still vividly alive in his grip, scattered into flying petals the instant it left his fingertips, falling down.

"I was just talking about pugs earlier; surely no one would take it personally, right?" Wen Qingyin raised his chin at Pei Junheng, his provocative intent obvious.

His face was small, his chin pointed and delicate, as if one could grasp his neck and hold it in the palm of a hand.

Pei Junheng hadn't expected Wen Qingyin to be so nonchalant; he paused, thought for two seconds, and still decided to skip the topic about pugs.

He turned his head to signal to Qiu Sanchi, who was still glaring at Zi Shu Zhi, "Sanchi."

The interrupted Qiu Sanchi then recalled his purpose here; moments ago he and Zi Shu Zhi had been locked in a heated stare, but their momentum instantly collapsed.

Apologizing to the medicinal cultivators is nothing short of a lifelong disgrace!

But this is the Young Sect Master's order; Qiu Sanchi dare not disobey, he stepped forward and lowered his head, seeming either guilty or ashamed.

"Junior Sect Master Wen, I misspoke just now; I offer my apologies."

I hadn't expected him to come apologizing; Wen Qingyin's smug expression froze, then he glanced in surprise at Qiu Sanchi's face, flushed crimson.

Sensing something, he looked toward Pei Junheng, only to meet the deep gaze of the young sword cultivator.

With a flick of his fingertip, Wen Qingyin glanced at Qiu Sanchi's clenched fist at his side, feigning magnanimity: "As long as it's sincere, our Cloud Immortal Sect has always possessed the breadth to embrace the seas; we will surely forgive you."

Hearing this, Qiu Sanchi couldn't help but grit his teeth inwardly.

But forced by circumstances, he squeezed out words through his teeth: "Then thank you, Junior Sect Master Wen, for not holding it against me."

He lifted his eyes to see Wen Qingyin looking at him with a smug grin, yet his tone was maddening: "Next time, watch what you say~ otherwise it won't be so simple."

At the end of his words, Wen Qingyin's soft trailing tone hid a cold warning.

Qiu Sanchi clenched his fists and answered in humiliation.

Unbothered by Qiu Sanchi's reaction, Wen Qingyin's gaze turned to Pei Junheng.

He hadn't expected Pei Junheng to actually bring Qiu Sanchi to apologize.

He simply… simply loved putting on a show.

It in no way stopped Wen Qingyin from continuing to curse Pei Junheng as a villain in his heart.

Their grudge isn't something that can be eased by just this.

After Qiu Sanchi finished his apology, the two left, as if this trip had been solely for him to apologize; besides that, Pei Junheng didn't utter another word.

Wan Wanqiu, who had run to the talisman cultivators' pile to avoid the turmoil, saw Pei Junheng leave and sprinted back.

"Junior Sect Master, how's the situation?" he asked, peeking his head out.

"You wall‑grass, all you do is run away!" Zi Shu Zhi pointed at Wan Wanqiu, clearly despising his habit of fleeing at the first sign of trouble.

"Hey hey hey!" Wan Wanqiu shoved away Zi Shu Zhi's pointing finger, "Can talisman cultivator matters be called running away?"

After saying that, he gave an apologetic smile and asked Wen Qingyin, "Why did the Young Sect Master Pei come over just now?"

Seeing Pei Junheng's back as he had barely taken a few steps, the young sword cultivator was tall and slender, his clothing revealing an exceptionally superior physique; even among the crowd at Rainbow Rain Pavilion, he stood out, drawing eyes.

He flicked the scarlet sword tassel on his wrist, and Wen Qingyin casually replied, "They came to apologize to our medicinal cultivators."

Wan Wanqiu nodded, then asked bluntly, "But what has the Young Sect Master done to the Junior Sect Master?" Suddenly recalling what Wen Qingyin had said about Pei Junheng's relentless pursuit, he suddenly understood, "I get it—no wonder—"

Wen Qingyin gave him a strange look as he muttered to himself, "No wonder what?"

All that could be heard was Wan Wanqiu muttering softly, "No wonder the Junior Sect Master appears to have a deep connection with the Young Sect Master; he must be cherishing past affection." Otherwise, how could he dare not speak those words in front of Pei Junheng earlier?

Hearing this, Zi Shu Zhi rolled up his sleeves: "Are you insisting on—" insisting on acting disgracefully in front of their Junior Sect Master!

The extent of the provocation made Zi Shu Zhi think Wan Wanqiu was a sword cultivator's plant, but upon seeing Wan Wanqiu's sincere expression, his sleeve‑rolling motion halted.

He really does look like an idiot.

The fingertip that had been flicking the sword tassel froze; the vivid red tassel against his snow‑white skin made a striking contrast, and Wen Qingyin lifted his eyes, his face showing no displeasure.

His gaze shifted from Wan Wanqiu's face to Pei Junheng's; the sword cultivator's side profile was resolute, his nose bridge straight, his lashes thick, even his lips thin and unfeeling. Pei Junheng was nearby, turned sideways, listening to other sword cultivator disciples speak.

"Because…"

Wen Qingyin's vermilion lips opened and closed.

Sensing something, Pei Junheng lifted his eyes in the crowd; his pupils were black as cold stars, and when stared at, it felt as if a pack of wolves surrounded him.

Their silent gazes met; Wen Qingyin's finger hooked the sword tassel and pulled it slightly, a dark red like congealed blood.

"He's a mad dog."