Chapter 2365

True Person Ling Xu had no choice but to swallow the words filling his chest, his expression turning solemn as he said to the gathered disciples, "The Sect Leader summons me; I must go at once. You guys——"

He swept his gaze over the six of them, "For now, don't stray far from the Main Peak; when I return, I'll ask you in detail about your recent cultivation."

"Yes, Master." The disciples bowed and obeyed.

True Person Ling Xu's figure flickered, turning into a stream of light as he vanished into the distance.

After the Master left, the atmosphere grew subtly awkward.

Shi Yan and Xing Yan exchanged a glance, wanting to step forward and chat with the Second Senior Brother they hadn't seen in a while.

Xing Yan hesitated before speaking: "Second Senior Brother, you——"

"Xie Qingmo, he's gone." Jin Chen said, "What's there to say to these blocks of wood? Let's go play—I'm suffocating."

With Liu Qingcheng present, Xie Qingmo really didn't want to linger another moment.

"I'll take my leave now." Xie Qingmo gave a slight nod to his fellow disciples, "When the Master questions us tonight, I'll come of my own accord."

Having said that, he didn't wait for their reaction, turned and walked away; his white-clad figure quickly vanished into the Zhu Lin path.

Xing Yan's outstretched hand hung in midair as he watched that resolutely retreating back, his face showing undisguised loss and bewilderment.

He murmured softly, "I really feel that the Second Senior Brother…… is growing farther and farther from us……"

Lan Yi lightly pressed her lips, Yun Che's brows knit tightly, Shi Yan scratched his head, his gaze vacant.

As for Liu Qingcheng, he stared fixedly at the direction Xie Qingmo had vanished, his nails digging deep into his palm.

——

At the edge of the broken cliff on the back mountain of No-Come Peak, the mountain wind howled, blowing their robes into a fluttering roar.

Xie Qingmo sat cross-legged on a protruding rock, gazing at the distant sea of clouds surging, the mountain ranges like dark ink.

A slight shift of light and shadow at his side, Jin Chen had already sat down beside him, his long legs dangling over the ten‑thousand‑zhang abyss, swaying back and forth.

"Xie Qingmo," Jin Chen turned his head, the mountain wind whipping his high‑bound ponytail into flight, yet his voice cut clearly through the gale, "Are you angry?"

What he referred to was not only the farce that had just taken place before the main hall, Liu Qingcheng's slander, the rift between fellow disciples, and also the Master's uncomfortable favoritism.

And many things from before.

Xie Qingmo gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze still resting on the vast sea of clouds, his voice calm and unruffled, "Not really."

But Jin Chen suddenly reached out, his fingertip lightly tapping Xie Qingmo's cheek, the touch very gentle, "But Xie Qingmo, I can feel that you're unhappy."

Xie Qingmo's eyelashes twitched faintly; in the end he could not hide it from the sword spirit that shared his heart.

He let out a soft sigh, as if setting down an invisible burden, and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"... There is a little." He paused, then added, "But… it's much better than before."

What went unspoken was that the loneliness, almost enough to drown a person, had quietly dissipated since Jin Chen appeared.

Yet Jin Chen seemed able to hear his unspoken thoughts, suddenly drawing near; that excessively handsome face almost brushed Xie Qingmo's nose tip, carrying a hint of mischievous smile, his breath whispering, "Xie Qingmo, you're thinking of me."

Xie Qingmo's breath hitched, his ears heating uncontrollably.

He reached out and, with little force, pushed away Jin Chen's head that was almost nuzzling into his embrace, his voice tinged with a feigned calm coolness.

"I'm going to meditate and regulate my breath. You go play on your own." Having said that, he closed his eyes, trying to enter a meditative state.

Jin Chen pursed his lips, but he did not force himself closer again.

He sat quietly beside him, watching Xie Qingmo's tranquil profile for a while.

The mountain wind brushed past, a strand of ink‑black hair slipping from Xie Qingmo's temple and stroking his fair neck.

Jin Chen quietly reached out, using his fingertip to ever so gently pinch that strand of hair tip, twirling it between his fingers as he played with it.

Xie Qingmo showed no reaction, his breathing steady and long, as if he had truly entered meditation.

Jin Chen felt a bit bored.

His eyes shifted, and he casually plucked a thin, supple blade of grass from a crack in the cliff, held his breath, and carefully swept the tip of the grass lightly, lightly over Xie Qingmo's slightly pursed lips, then slowly glided it toward his beautifully contoured jaw.

A faint itch came over him. Xie Qingmo's brow furrowed slightly, his long lashes trembled, yet he kept his eyes closed.

Jin Chen raised an eyebrow, then moved the grass to beneath Xie Qingmo's nose tip, lightly scratching.

"Don't mess around." Xie Qingmo finally couldn't hold back, opening his eyes just enough to whisper a reprimand, the helplessness of having his tranquility disturbed.

Jin Chen instantly pulled his hand back, tossed the grass aside, his face showing no regret—on the contrary, he looked at him Grinning.

Xie Qingmo helplessly opened his eyes, let out a low sigh, which counted as tacit consent.

Thus Jin Chen pushed his luck further.

He shifted his body, tilted his shoulder, and his head naturally rested on Xie Qingmo's shoulder; he even adjusted his posture, found a comfortable angle, closed his eyes, looking ready to doze.

"Mm, this place is not bad; I'll rest a while too."

Xie Qingmo's body stiffened instantly.

Too close.

Jin Chen's crown almost brushed his jaw; the aura of the sword spirit—clear and crisp, with a hint of cold, aloof sandalwood—wove in delicate threads around his nostrils, carrying body heat, its impact unusually strong.

Xie Qingmo lowered his gaze, watching Jin Chen's peaceful profile leaning on his shoulder; the youth's thick lashes cast a small shadow beneath his eyelids, his breathing shallow.

That stiffness, in this utterly unguarded closeness, gradually melted away bit by bit.

He did not push him away.

The mountain wind howled at the cliff's edge, stirring the two's hair and robes.

Xie Qingmo closed his eyes again, no longer forcing himself into meditation, feeling the warm‑tinged reliance on his shoulder.

The wind on the cliff is strong, Xie Qingmo thought.

【Detected Villain Heartthrob Value +8, total 11!】

Night was drawing near.

At the main hall of Wu Lai Peak, six disciples sat in the courtyard; Xie Qingmo kept himself far from Liu Qingcheng, as if he were a world unto himself, interested only in the Chen Sword in his hand, yet when Xingyan and Shiyan came to chat, he would nod and respond.

It was obvious he couldn't get along with Liu Qingcheng.

If it were as before, the fellow disciples would likely have to give another round of good advice, but today they no longer insist.

Liu Qingcheng felt a sense of alarm well up in his heart.

He inexplicably felt that his influence over the people of No-come Peak was not as great as before.