Chapter 22: Matters of Descending the Mountain

Lin Lingshu quickly finished her dinner, wiped the corner of her mouth with a touch of spiritual energy, and turned to see that Wang Shuheng hadn’t left.
Instead, he was sitting right on the edge of her warm jade bed.

“Junior Brother, what are you doing?”

Her tone carried both suspicion and discomfort as she subtly shifted backward, putting a bit more distance between them.

“Senior Sister,” Wang Shuheng replied, “Master just sent a message.”

He reached into his storage pouch and drew out a folded paper crane, offering it to her.

Lin Lingshu accepted it, unfolded the crane, and scanned the contents. Her brows lifted slightly.

“Master wants the two of us to descend the mountain and exorcise a demon.”

Descending the mountain to slay demons—she could understand that.
But together with Wang Shuheng? That part baffled her.

Everyone knows the protagonist carries a disaster-attracting aura.
Take him along, and a minor Qi Refinement fiend might suddenly become a Core Formation monster—or worse, you kill one, and its elder brother shows up for revenge.
Risk factor: exponentially increased.

Feigning a thoughtful expression, she shook her head in apparent concern for him.

“No, Junior Brother. You’ve only reached the Qi Refinement stage. Facing demonic cultivators now—it’s too dangerous.”

“With Senior Sister by my side,” Wang Shuheng said calmly, “mere demonic cultivators are no more than chickens and dogs before us.”

Just as Lin Lingshu was about to refute him, he added, “Besides, this might be a trial from Master. If we delay, she might think we’re defying her will.”

Lin Lingshu fell silent. She knew what he meant.

When Fairy Shuiyue accepted Wang Shuheng as her direct disciple, there had been no ceremony, no special resources, nothing beyond a formal acknowledgment.
Wang Shuheng probably believed that Fairy Shuiyue only took him as a disciple for the sake of a certain Ten-Thousand-Thunder Pill.

(Of course, Lin Lingshu was completely mistaken.)

Back then, when Wang Shuheng sold a bottle of top-grade pills at Danlu Peak, he’d already anticipated that the elder there would go to Shuiyue to negotiate his transfer.
Given his status as first place in the sect’s grand tournament, Shuiyue would surely refuse and take him as a direct disciple instead.
The Thunder Pill had been a pleasant surprise—one he hadn’t foreseen.

Perhaps Fairy Shuiyue had even sensed his intent from the start, which was why she now arranged for this joint mission.

Seeing the determination in his eyes, Lin Lingshu sighed inwardly.

“Fine. Go back for now. I’ll pack up and we’ll head down the mountain tomorrow.”

Yet Wang Shuheng didn’t move. He remained seated for a moment, then stood and walked a few steps closer—toward her.

“Junior Brother… what are you doing?”

The sudden approach made Lin Lingshu’s mind flash with questionable images straight out of a romance novel.

He leaned down, bringing his face close—dangerously close. She could feel the heat of his breath brushing against her cheek.

Then his hand reached toward her lap, and his lips moved near her ear, whispering her name—

“Senior Sister.”

His warm breath tickled her ear, sending a tingling shiver down her spine. For the first time, Lin Lingshu fully understood why heroines in love stories couldn’t stand up when the male lead whispered close to them.

A wave of numbing heat spread through her entire body.

“Senior Sister.”

His voice—low, close, and intimate—stirred her like an electric current. Her rational thoughts were rapidly burning away.

Then—his hand slid over her abdomen, moving lower, and lower—

“Senior Sister,” he said again, calmly.

“Mmm—” she breathed out involuntarily.

Her entire body felt aflame; her mind fogged—until suddenly—

“Senior Sister, you forgot to give me your bowl and plate.”

…

Wang Shuheng’s hand deftly lifted the wooden bowl and plate resting in her lap, and he casually stepped back, leaving the room—closing the door politely behind him.

Only Lin Lingshu remained, frozen in place on the jade bed. She touched her face—it was burning hot.

“I must be losing my mind,” she murmured to herself.

The moon set; the sun rose.

Morning light filled the room where a girl still lay curled under her blanket, deeply asleep.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her brows furrowed. “Who is it?” she grumbled irritably.

“Senior Sister, it’s me. We’re supposed to—”

“Go away!!”

Her roar nearly rattled the door.
Only heaven knew what time she’d finally fallen asleep last night.
After hours of restlessness, she’d only just drifted off—and now this fool had the nerve to wake her.

Wang Shuheng paused, his voice lowering to a gentle tone.

“Understood, Senior Sister. I’ll wait outside.”

Lin Lingshu ignored him completely and pulled the blanket tighter.
It had taken her half the night for that strange, burning tension in her body to finally cool.

Two hours later, she finally woke from a pleasant dream, stretching lazily before slipping her daoist robe over her shoulders like a blanket.

Time to head down the mountain.
A single demonic cultivator? She could handle that easily.
She didn’t need any protagonist baggage slowing her down.
Strong ones walked alone, after all.

When she opened the door, Wang Shuheng was already waiting outside, long blade in hand.

Seeing her, he spoke softly, “Senior Sister, are you hungry? The meat soup’s gone cold, but I can heat it up.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and went to reheat it.

Lin Lingshu watched him go, slightly stunned. She’d planned to scold him again—maybe even throw in a few sword threats—but his calm demeanor left her without any target.

Soon he returned, holding out a steaming bowl of broth.

“Here, Senior Sister.”

Lin Lingshu stared at his warm smile for a moment, unsure whether to accept. In the end, she took it.

“Thanks… Junior Brother, about this morning, I—”

“It’s fine, Senior Sister,” he interrupted gently. “I didn’t mind.”

His easy tone made her cheeks flush with guilt and warmth.

After finishing the soup, she handed him the bowl—and on impulse, gave him a quick hug.

“Thank you, Junior Brother.”

Wang Shuheng froze, completely unprepared.
Her scent, her warmth—the softness of her chest pressed lightly against him—sent his thoughts scattering.

Lin Lingshu quickly realized how improper it was, released him, and stepped back.

“Go wash the dishes,” she said with a teasing smile. “I’ll be waiting at the teleportation array.”

Watching him stand there dazed, she couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly.
Pure little virgin.

Then she turned and strode toward the main hall, her long robes swaying.

Behind her, Wang Shuheng hurriedly washed the bowl clean and chased after her.

Hearing his footsteps catching up, Lin Lingshu slowed down slightly and glanced over her shoulder, smiling softly.