Chapter 2: A Long-Held Affection

Hearing the cold voice laced with a hint of surprise from the doorway, Chu Huaizhou felt dazed.
He slowly raised his head to see the newcomer’s face, but something unexpected obscured his vision, letting him only glimpse above their mouth.

A pair of aloof phoenix eyes stared down at him.
Chu Huaizhou felt an uncanny familiarity—this person resembled the white-haired, blue-eyed plush toy on his bed.

When he heard the word “Master,” he briefly wondered if it was one of his three disciples.
But one glance dispelled that thought.

For one, their appearance and aura didn’t match his disciples.
For another, even without deliberately exuding energy, Chu Huaizhou could sense this person’s cultivation was extraordinary.

Their spiritual power was like an unfathomable abyss, their mere presence nearly suffocating him.

Only the sect leader of the Heavenly Origin Sword Sect had ever given him such a feeling.
This person’s status was surely exceptional—definitely not one of his Qi Refining disciples.

To avoid angering them and escalating a conflict, Chu Huaizhou wisely chose silence, waiting for them to speak.

The two stared at each other, neither speaking.
After a while, Bai Li poked her small head out from behind, glancing between them.

“What are you two doing, meow?”

Then, seeing Chu Huaizhou holding up the Nine-Turns Rosy Marrow True Dew, she tilted her head, her round eyes fixed on him curiously.

“Human, why haven’t you drunk it, meow? Don’t you like it, meow?”

Drink, drink, drink—all you think about is drinking! You’re not a fox; you’re a greedy cat!

Chu Huaizhou resisted the urge to kick Bai Li and ignored her for now.

Clearing his throat, he stood up, pretending nothing happened, and gazed with utmost sincerity at the figure he assumed was a supreme elder.

“Greetings, Elder. May I ask the purpose of your visit? If it’s about this bottle of Nine-Turns Rosy Marrow True Dew, everything is as I said—I swear it’s the truth.”

Chu Huaizhou’s expression was earnest, his gaze pure as crystal.

“Please, show mercy to me and Bai Li. If that’s not possible, take me to the Law Enforcement Hall, but at least spare Bai… this little fox beside you. She didn’t know any better.”

Chu Huaizhou figured such heartfelt words would at least prevent an immediate execution without a chance to explain.

But to his surprise, before the figure could respond, Bai Li burst out laughing.

“Meow-hahaha—”

“Human, what are you doing? Playing that… cosplay thing you used to talk about? What are you saying to your eldest disciple, Leng Qingqiu?”

Leng Qingqiu couldn’t hold back either.
Her once-cold eyes softened, and she covered her mouth with a sky-blue gauze sleeve, chuckling.

“Yeah, Master, what nonsense are you spouting? Did the lightning fry your brain?”

“If you wanted to play… cos… cosplay? Is that what it’s called? You could’ve told me first. Doing this out of nowhere is… laughable.”

His fists clenched.

Chu Huaizhou locked eyes with Leng Qingqiu’s softened phoenix gaze.

Leng Qingqiu? Bai Li was saying this broad-chested, stunningly beautiful, and overwhelmingly powerful cultivator was his eldest disciple, Leng Qingqiu?

Leng Qingqiu and Bai Li, one human and one fox, had been smiling, but seeing Chu Huaizhou’s bewildered expression, they turned serious.

“Master, you… don’t remember me? My apologies for the disrespect.”

Bai Li lightly hopped onto Chu Huaizhou’s shoulder, her nose twitching as if checking something.

Leng Qingqiu stepped forward, her jade-like hand gently grasping his wrist.

A cold stream of spiritual power surged into his body, probing deep without resistance.

Chu Huaizhou instinctively tried to block it, but his efforts were as futile as a loach facing a python.
He could only watch as the spiritual power reached places no outsider should access…

Wait, what was he thinking?

“No, hold on, what’s going on?”

Neither the human nor the fox answered.
After a moment, Leng Qingqiu released him, her face grim.

“Something’s wrong. You look like Master, but… why is your cultivation only at early Golden Core?”

“Exactly, meow! I keep sniffing, and it’s definitely human’s scent, but how did your cultivation drop so much? From Tribulation Crossing to early Golden Core?”

Both turned to Chu Huaizhou.

“Master (Human), what happened to you?”

Chu Huaizhou: “I… I don’t know.”

Chu Huaizhou didn’t dodge their questions.
He bluntly said early Golden Core was normal for him—his memories only went up to that stage.

The three began exchanging information to piece together what happened, arriving at a shocking yet seemingly plausible explanation.

“So, I was the sect leader of the Heavenly Origin Sword Sect, the world’s only Tribulation Crossing cultivator, who failed 99 tribulations, and after failing the 100th, I lost my memory?!”

Leng Qingqiu nodded, her thoughts unreadable as she subtly shifted closer to Chu Huaizhou.

At first, she’d been anxious, thinking something catastrophic had occurred.
But then another thought struck her.

Master… lost all memories after early Golden Core, and his cultivation was stuck there too.

As a Great Vehicle stage cultivator, didn’t that mean… she could do whatever she wanted?

The Heavenly Origin Sword Sect was powerful enough that Master’s strength was rarely needed.

Why not take this chance to announce that Master perished in his failed tribulation and keep him in her palace?

The idea flooded Leng Qingqiu’s mind like a tide.

Yes, long ago, Leng Qingqiu had fallen for her master, harboring forbidden thoughts.

But their master-disciple bond was a barrier, unaccepted by the world.
She didn’t care about worldly opinions—she only cared about her master.

The problem was, Master was upright, ignoring or brushing off her hints with jokes.

As the only Tribulation Crossing cultivator in ten thousand years, his strength far surpassed hers.
Soft approaches failed, and force was useless, so she buried her feelings deep.

In the dead of night, she’d vent her frustrations on ice sculptures of her master, secretly crafted in her palace.

Sometimes, she’d hit them too hard, shattering them.
Luckily, she had thousands of such sculptures—Master eating, meeting other sect leaders, sleeping, training, and more.

If only the real Master could stay in her palace!

The thought made Leng Qingqiu fume.

It was Master’s fault for caring about mortal reputations despite his cultivation!

But soon, a smile tugged at her lips.

She’d waited centuries, thinking she’d never have a chance to be his dao companion.
Now, the heavens had given her this opportunity—she had to seize it!

If Master disobeyed, she’d break his legs by day, heal them at night, and break them again…

She’d never let him escape her grasp.

Leng Qingqiu gazed at Chu Huaizhou’s dazed profile, her legs rubbing together unconsciously.
A flush crept across her refined face, her eyes practically sparkling with hearts.