Chapter 17: The Trickster Second Uncle! (Please Follow!)

Unexpectedly, that afternoon, Lu Yaoyao and Li Daoxuan came to visit, bringing some pastries.

As expected, Lu Yaoyao’s original note “So impressive” had changed to “So unfortunate.”

Li Daoxuan’s note had shifted from “Slightly likable rogue” to “Utterly unlucky rogue.”

“Senior Brother Zhou, cheer up—as long as you’re unharmed, that’s what really matters,” Lu Yaoyao whispered gently.

Li Daoxuan placed the pastries on the table, his face stern: “Maybe when the Senior Elders gather the ingredients again and reopen the Flame Spirit Blood Pool, they’ll compensate you.”

Zhou Qing wanted to tell them the thief had appeared only after he’d soaked overnight—he hadn’t actually lost anything.

But after careful thought, he decided to stay silent.

After all, this reward had already stirred envy and resentment; letting others laugh at him was better than making them jealous.

So Zhou Qing immediately put on a listless expression and said, “I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Sister and Brother.”

Lu Yaoyao wanted to say more, but Li Daoxuan saw Zhou Qing’s crestfallen face and gently tugged his younger sister’s sleeve, then shook his head.

Lu Yaoyao understood at once, stood up, and said, “Alright then, we won’t disturb you anymore. Rest well, keep your spirits up—it’s not that big a deal.”

After watching them leave, Zhou Qing instantly perked up.

He opened the food box, stared at the delicate pastries inside, and couldn’t help licking his lips.

He’d smelled the rich aroma earlier and was already starving—these pastries clearly took great care to make.

Since it wasn’t an enemy’s revenge, the food likely wasn’t poisoned, so he devoured them greedily.

That night, as Zhou Qing studied the “Silver Dragon Hand” while absorbing supreme-grade spirit stones, a voice suddenly whispered to him.

“Fourth, come quick to the foot of Yùqīng Peak!”

Zhou Qing froze for a moment, then swiftly packed his things, opened the door, and stared out at the night, puzzled.

It’s this late—why is Third Brother summoning me to Yùqīng Peak?

Though confused, he hurried off anyway.

Soon, he saw a figure at the foot of Yùqīng Peak waving frantically; seeing this, he had no choice but to guide his flying sword down.

“Greetings, Senior Brother Zhou!” The man was an inner-disciple dressed in yellow, with two curled mustaches above his lips, seemingly over thirty.

Zhou Qing frowned slightly, but the man hurriedly said, “Senior Brother Zhou, Senior Brother Yan has been waiting inside for a long time—if you’re late, you’ll miss it.”

“Miss what?” Zhou Qing grew even more confused.

The man shook his head: “I don’t know either—go inside and you’ll find out.”

Saying this, he immediately pulled out a formation disc from his sleeve, activated it, and the night curfew on nearby Yùqīng Peak silently opened a gap.

“I’ll lead the way!” The man stepped through the gap.

Zhou Qing stared at Yùqīng Peak, feeling uneasy about sneaking onto someone’s grounds at this hour—but Third Brother must have urgent business, or he wouldn’t be so frantic.

He gritted his teeth and followed inside.

Under cover of night, the two moved swiftly, dodging patrol enforcers one after another.

“Here we are!” The mustached man suddenly stopped and pointed to a solitary courtyard ahead.

Zhou Qing immediately crouched and scanned the surroundings, whispering in alarm: “What’s this joke? This is a core disciple’s residence—and judging by the décor, it’s some sister’s.”

The mustached man looked serious: “Senior Brother Yan is inside—don’t you know he’s taken a fancy to someone?”

Zhou Qing was stunned, his mind flashing to Yan Xiao’s carefree, clueless face—he shook his head vigorously.

He’d never think about such romantic nonsense.

Zhou Qing instantly grew alert and stepped back two paces: “Who are you? Where’s my Third Brother?”

The voice was indeed Third Brother’s—but this behavior was utterly unlike him.

The mustached man chuckled at Zhou Qing’s wariness, clicking his tongue: “You’re not easily fooled—you’ve got some wit. To reward you, I’ve gone out of my way to cater to your tastes.”

Hearing that familiar yet alien voice emerge from the mustached man’s mouth, Zhou Qing’s face turned pale.

“Who’s out there?”

Suddenly, the door behind them burst open, and a figure wrapped in a towel shot skyward.

Her long hair, dripping wet, cascaded over her shoulders, water beads rolling down; her gaze flashed like lightning, locking instantly onto Zhou Qing.

“Shi… Shi Zhen Senior Sister!” Zhou Qing’s face went white.

He’d attended her first lecture not long ago—she’d even taught him the cultivation method of the “Green Wood Spirit Shield.”

Zhou Qing spun around—only to find the trickster who lured him here had vanished without a trace.

He swallowed hard.

Done. Now he was truly stuck in a mess—no matter what, it looked like shit.

Shi Zhen’s delicate face flushed with shame and fury, her eyes burning like fire.

But in the next instant, Zhou Qing’s legs buckled—he collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing uncontrollably.

His limbs flailed violently, as if pulled by invisible forces.

His facial muscles twisted, eyes rolled back, mouth gaping wide, throat emitting a guttural “gurgle.”

White foam bubbled from his lips, horrifying to behold.

Shi Zhen’s furious expression shifted slightly; she furrowed her brows and cautiously called out: “Zhou junior brother?”

Seeing Zhou Qing still convulsing, she landed quickly, one hand gripping her towel, the other pressing his pulse—then gasped in shock.

“This pulse is wildly chaotic—something’s wrong. It’s like poisoning, or qi deviation—Master, Master—”

Shi Zhen didn’t dare delay; she immediately pulled out a distress talisman and summoned her master—after all, if a core disciple collapsed at her doorstep, she’d have no way to defend herself.

…………

“What happened to this child?”

Tong Min, the peak master of Yùqīng Peak, rushed forward to ask Mo Xingjian as he stepped out of the room.

Mo Xingjian bowed gratefully to Tong Min: “Thanks to your timely rescue and immediate return of the boy to Xiao Ling Peak, he’s now out of danger—just needs a day or two of sleep.”

Tong Min finally sighed in relief.

Then Mo Xingjian turned to Shi Zhen, who stood awkwardly nearby, and smiled: “It’s not your fault. This boy’s sleepwalking isn’t new—it’s just worse now. You didn’t mean to scare him.”

Shi Zhen realized: sleepwalkers mustn’t be startled—otherwise, unpredictable consequences follow. So it was true.

She quickly bowed apologetically: “Master Mo, it was my fault. When he fully recovers, I’ll apologize to him personally.”

Mo Xingjian waved his hand: “No need, no need—as long as you don’t misunderstand.”

Inside the room, Yan Xiao was tiptoeing by the window, eavesdropping.

Zhou Qing, meanwhile, sat calmly on the bed, cautiously peering out.

“Third Brother, are they gone?” Zhou Qing didn’t dare speak, using only gestures only they understood.

Yan Xiao made a shushing motion, listened a moment longer, then sighed: “Master saw them off. Fourth, you’re something else!”

(End of Chapter)