TDSDE 7

7. The Consequence of Running Your Mouth Is Getting Hit

Bai Yuanxiu glanced at the small cloth bundle in his right hand. He told himself he was just trying not to waste the boy’s kind gesture—he’d drop it off and be on his way.

Yunhua Mountain was the most renowned peak in the entire Jing Empire, towering into the clouds with breathtaking scenery. As Bai Yuanxiu climbed the cold stone steps, he passed vibrant, thriving greenery that remained lively even in the heart of winter.

The Demonic Sect hadn’t officially moved into Yunhua Mountain yet. Their loose management style clashed with Yunhua Sect’s strict discipline, making the current facilities uncomfortable and impractical for the sect members. Rebuilding was a must. Since the Left Protector didn’t like to travel, he’d been left behind to keep watch.

Bai Yuanxiu had left in such a hurry before that he hadn’t known—only after asking around did he learn the Left Protector was currently staying in the Vermilion Bird Hall.

The Hall Master of Vermilion Bird Hall had always been close with the Left Protector. Bai Yuanxiu had heard whispers and speculation about their relationship, but as he stood now, staring at the row of newly built bamboo houses, all he felt was a rising irritation.

—He still remembered what Ah Qing had once said: what he liked most was the evergreen bamboo.

The bamboo lodges had been built recently and still held a fresh scent. Bai Yuanxiu set the cloth bundle down on the slightly damp bamboo-woven table and had just turned to leave when footsteps sounded outside the door.

His first instinct was to run—but then he remembered he hadn’t done anything wrong. Stiffening his neck, he stood his ground.

The footsteps stopped at the threshold, followed by a flat, emotionless voice:

“Should I say, ‘what an honor to receive such a distinguished guest,’ or ‘forgive me for not greeting you sooner’?”

Bai Yuanxiu’s discomfort vanished in an instant.

He looked at the cold-faced, handsome young man before him for a few seconds, then suddenly smirked.

“How would I dare? What if I left and got my heart gouged out from behind? Wouldn’t that be tragic, Left Protector?”

If Xiao Qing’s words were just passive-aggressive before, then Bai Yuanxiu’s were like tossing a lit match into a barrel of gunpowder.

Xiao Qing raised his hand, letting his wide sleeve slide back to reveal a palm like polished jade. Without a word, he struck—a blast of icy wind followed his palm, and the temperature in the bamboo room plummeted.

The Left Protector of the Demonic Sect was famous for his palm techniques, and Bai Yuanxiu wouldn’t dare to take that strike head-on. He ducked, letting the attack graze his back and slam into a low bamboo stool beside the table.

A hissing sound followed. Bai Yuanxiu glanced over, and his eyes narrowed when he saw a thin layer of frost instantly spread across the stool’s surface.

He turned back to Xiao Qing in disbelief.

He’s actually serious!?

Bai Yuanxiu straightened and drew the heavy iron sword from his waist, his face darkening. “So it’s a fight, huh?”

He thought of the young man once curled up in his arms, full of dependence—and now, staring at that icy expression, Bai Yuanxiu couldn’t help but feel even more irritated.

With a flick of his wrist, his blade flashed like lightning. The sword’s edge was sharp, the energy fierce—he wasn’t holding back either.

Swordlight and frost clashed, and soon, disciples of Yunhua Sect and diligent laborers from the Demonic Sect all heard a deafening boom echo across the mountain at midday, under clear blue skies.

They looked up, confused.

Was it about to rain or something?

Moments later, a mournful voice rang out from one corner:

“Ahhh! I just finished building the Vermilion Bird Hall this morning!”

And just like that, everyone knew—the Left and Right Protectors were fighting.

Fighting fiercely, in fact—so fiercely they’d flattened the entire row of bamboo houses.

Two hours later, Bai Yuanxiu lay face down on a bed, gritting his teeth. “Easy! Easy!”

Ye Nanxun, the Azure Dragon Hall Master, rolled his eyes. “One more whine and I’ll dump the whole jar of medicine on your back.”

Bai Yuanxiu shut his mouth. When the medicinal powder hit his wounds, he let out two muffled grunts, making Ye Nanxun snort in amusement.

“Seriously, what possessed you to bring that up to his face?”

Bai Yuanxiu muttered through gritted teeth, “What, I can’t even say it? He did it, didn’t he? Ow—damn!”

Ye Nanxun finished treating a deep cut and sat down beside the bed. “Are you really that clueless, or are you just pretending?”

“Clueless about what?” Bai Yuanxiu snapped. “Also, can’t you improve that medicine? It hurts like hell.”

Ye Nanxun ignored the complaint. He studied Bai Yuanxiu’s expression for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. “There’s more to that story with the Left Protector than you know. You really don’t care, do you?”

Bai Yuanxiu froze.

Six years ago, something major happened in the Demonic Sect—a sect member murdered the sect’s bookkeeper. What shocked everyone the most was that the killer, a boy barely sixteen, had once been the bookkeeper’s most beloved ward—almost like a foster son.

Back then, the sect’s finances were managed by a single bookkeeper—a mild-mannered, scholarly man who had no martial skills but got along well with the sect members.

One day, the Sect Leader brought back a boy he’d picked up somewhere. But not one for responsibility, the leader dumped the injured child in the Medicine Valley and promptly forgot all about him.

Nearly two years passed before the boy could walk again. By then, the leader had long since forgotten his existence. The boy, not daring to disturb anyone, wandered the quiet corners of the sect like a ghost.

He was silent, withdrawn, with a scarred face that kept others at a distance. Even when people tried to be kind, he would either avoid them entirely—or lash out if they got too close.

And it wasn’t just any ordinary attack. The boy possessed a strange internal energy he couldn’t control. Anyone hurt by it suffered severe frostbite—skin and flesh might be flayed off, and in extreme cases, limbs might have to be amputated.

Who would dare approach someone like that?

Well—someone did.

That someone was the middle-aged bookkeeper.

The bookkeeper had been injured several times, but it was as if he never learned his lesson. As soon as his wounds were bandaged—before they’d even healed—he would go looking for that boy again.

Over time, the bookkeeper became the boy’s only exception. When the two of them were together, it was like watching a real father and son.

But one day, a disciple from the White Tiger Hall returned with purchased grain and found the numbers didn’t match. When they went to the bookkeeper’s quarters to verify the records, there was no response. They pushed open the door—and were met with a floor soaked in blood.

The bookkeeper’s death was gruesome. He had a gaping hole torn through his back, and before dying, he had dragged himself across half the courtyard. His mutilated body looked like a broken bamboo basket, with its contents spilling out along the way.

Upon investigation, it turned out that the boy had done it.

He had ambushed the bookkeeper from behind with calculated cruelty, deliberately tearing the wound open to prolong the pain. No one heard a single cry for help—because the bookkeeper’s tongue had been ripped out at the start, and his entire mouth was frozen beyond recognition.

The case was left unresolved, and the boy disappeared without a trace.

At the time, Bai Yuanxiu had just returned from a mission to Donghai Bay. After only three or four days’ rest, he’d been sent south again to investigate the shipyards. He only heard a vague summary of what happened.

By the time he returned to the Demonic Sect, more than half a year had passed. No one in the sect spoke of the incident. The bookkeeper’s quarters and the surrounding courtyard had been completely razed—as if that place had never existed.

Bai Yuanxiu hadn’t thought much of it. He was never close to the bookkeeper. The man died, so what? If even the Sect Leader didn’t care, what could anyone else do?

Two years ago, the Sect Leader suddenly announced the appointment of two Protectors. They weren’t really given any duties—it was more like they were being used as powerful figureheads, or mascots.

Bai Yuanxiu was appointed the Right Protector. And the Left Protector… turned out to be a young man in a mask, with the same chilling internal energy.

Bai Yuanxiu wasn’t an idiot. It wasn’t hard to guess that the Left Protector was the boy from back then. Though he didn’t understand why the sect treated the matter so strangely, it was clear the Sect Leader must’ve had his reasons—Bai Yuanxiu simply chalked it up to that.

Now, hearing Ye Nanxun bring it up, Bai Yuanxiu couldn’t help but press, “What really happened?”

The infirmary room in Azure Dragon Hall was tightly sealed, but Ye Nanxun still leaned in close to whisper two words in Bai Yuanshou’s ear:

“Boy toy.”

Bai Yuanxiu slammed a fist down onto the small table beside him, shattering the rock-hard wood to splinters.

“Filthy bastard.” The words burst from his mouth before he could stop them. But then, remembering his own words and actions earlier, all his fury instantly vanished. His back hunched, shoulders drooping, and he fell silent.

Ye Nanxun looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could open his mouth, Bai Yuanxiu suddenly sprang to his feet—and in a blink, was gone.

He raced through the bamboo forest, channeling his inner energy, until he finally found the hastily built little cabin. Without hesitation, he ran up and banged on the door.

The cold moonlight spilled down as the door opened, casting a silver glow across the young man standing inside.

His face was clean, without a single scar. The knot in Bai Yuanxiu’s heart loosened somewhat. He cut straight to the point.

“Sorry. I was wrong earlier.”

He closed his eyes and said, “You can hit me a few more times if you want. However you want. Just leave me breathing.”

There was no reply for a long while. Bai Yuanxiu peeked one eye open and saw Xiao Qing turning his head away.

“…Put some clothes on first.”

Bai Yuanxiu looked down—and instantly went red in the face. “I-I don’t have anything to wear…”

He had only come back to deliver the jujubes from Mojiazhuang. Planning to drop them off and leave immediately, he hadn’t brought a change of clothes.

In the moonlight, Bai Yuanxiu saw Xiao Qing’s lashes tremble slightly.

“…Then come in.”

At first, Bai Yuanxiu couldn’t describe what he was feeling. But when he caught a glimpse of the other’s bright-red ears peeking through his hair, something impulsive surged in his chest, and he stepped into the cabin.

The place had been thrown together in a rush, a bit rough around the edges. Bai Yuanxiu was just thinking the bed probably wasn’t comfortable—when something soft was shoved into his arms.

Xiao Qing handed him a robe, then moved to the corner of the room and crouched beside a low table, back turned, saying nothing.

Bai Yuanxiu quickly put on the robe and quietly padded over. When he looked down, he saw Xiao Qing’s pale fingertips carefully sorting through a pile of jujubes—wrinkled, misshapen, and still glistening with water.