Chapter Thirty-One: A Forced Fruit Never Tastes Sweet

Watching Shen Qingyun walk out of the Hall of Missions, Elder Fu let out a deep sigh, a long-lost sense of powerlessness welling up within him. From their earlier conversation, he realized he had been utterly outmaneuvered by Shen Qingyun. Once Shen Qingyun claimed he could fulfill all the duties of a Cangyun disciple, every aspect of his bearing revealed how little he resembled a typical student. How to put it—he was simply too composed, like a still, unfathomable pool, giving off an oppressive, tranquil air.

Exhaling heavily, Elder Fu shook his head and turned to enter a concealed door inside the Hall of Missions.

Outside, Shen Qingyun gazed at three charming figures, though their presence together seemed hardly harmonious.

The moment Shen Qingyun emerged, the smoldering tension between Wu Qing and Qiao Xinyu instantly died away. Both turned toward him with bright smiles and hurried over.

“Aren’t you going back yet?” Shen Qingyun asked mildly.

Qiao Xinyu giggled and said, “My sister and I were waiting for you! In the past few days, both of us have reached the second stage of Qi Refinement!”

She puffed out her not-insignificant chest, her eyes brimming with a silent plea for praise.

Shen Qingyun couldn’t help but smile at this.

“That’s nothing—I’m nearly at the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage!” Wu Qing immediately retorted, unwilling to be outdone.

“Hmph, we’re not competing with you. My sister and I both have Heavenly Spirit Roots!” Qiao Xinyu said proudly, tilting her chin at Wu Qing.

Seeing her boast, Wu Qing ground her teeth in frustration but could do little about it, as her own Earth Spirit Root of the water attribute simply couldn’t compare. Still, she glared defiantly, determined to fight with her eyes since words failed her.

Yet Qiao Xinyu was unafraid—she had never lost a battle of presence! If you glare at me, I’ll glare right back!

Watching them bicker after just a few words, Shen Qingyun felt a headache brewing. The calm composure he’d shown in front of Elder Fu seemed to have vanished.

“Let’s get going,” Shen Qingyun said lightly.

At his words, Qiao Xinyu and Wu Qing exchanged one last fierce glare before quickly following him. Qiao Xinran, though silent throughout, made it clear from her gaze that she sided with her sister.

“When did you join the inner sect, Brother Shen?” Wu Qing asked with a smile as they walked.

“You joined the inner sect, Brother Qingyun?” Qiao Xinran and Qiao Xinyu both looked at him in surprise, seeking confirmation.

“Just yesterday,” Shen Qingyun replied.

With confirmation, Wu Qing shot them a triumphant look and teased, “Don’t you know? In Cangyun Sect, only inner disciples and elders are allowed to wear white.”

Unusually, Qiao Xinyu didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she circled Shen Qingyun, exclaiming, “Brother Qingyun, you’re amazing!”

Neither she nor her sister knew what one had to endure to enter the inner sect—they only knew it was a great feat. If they learned that Shen Qingyun was the fastest-advancing disciple in Cangyun Sect’s history, they’d be left with nothing but awe.

Seeing Qiao Xinyu unwilling to compete, even Wu Qing lost some of her spirit, so she turned to Shen Qingyun and asked, “Brother Shen, to which peak do you belong?”

Shen Qingyun slowed his steps slightly and glanced at her, replying coolly, “Why do you ask, Senior Sister?”

“Why, so we can visit each other often in the future!” Wu Qing blurted out without thinking.

The Qiao sisters looked at him expectantly. Shen Qingyun kept his gaze fixed ahead, but inwardly he was already weary—if they found out, they’d even come to his residence. How was he supposed to cultivate in peace?

“Senior Sister Wu, that’s not really any of your concern, is it?”

He believed he had made himself abundantly clear—how could Wu Qing not get the hint? Yet she blinked as if she truly didn’t understand and said, “How could it not concern me? You’ve just joined the inner sect; there must be much you don’t know. I could explain things to you!”

Shen Qingyun let out the faintest sigh—did he really have to spell it out for her?

“Senior Sister Wu,” he said, pausing.

“Yes?” she replied, blinking at him.

“Have you heard the saying: ‘A melon forcibly twisted from the vine is never sweet’?”

“I have!” Wu Qing replied with a smile. “But how would you know it isn’t sweet until you’ve tasted it? Besides, so long as it quenches thirst, why must it be sweet?”

Shen Qingyun was speechless.

Senior Sister, are you really this oblivious, or just pretending?

“Senior Sister, I don’t think you understand my meaning—” He raised a hand to his brow, but before he could finish, Wu Qing interrupted.

“I do understand—truly, I do!” Wu Qing looked at him pleadingly, and it must be said that no woman—let alone a man—could resist her pitiful expression.

Her eyes filled with shimmering tears as she said in a trembling voice, “I know—you must think I’m shameless for acting this way.”

“I don’t—” Shen Qingyun began, but Wu Qing cut him off again, “I know, I know this isn’t right of me, but I simply can’t help myself around you!”

Shen Qingyun drew in a sharp breath. Who exactly was this woman?

Even Qiao Xinran seemed unable to watch any longer and said, “Young Master Shen, why not just tell her? Look how pitiful she is!”

Shen Qingyun shot her a sidelong glance—pitiful? Miss, you truly misunderstand the meaning of the word.

No matter what, for the sake of his peace, he could not reveal his residence!

“Cultivation is what matters most—let’s focus on that,” he said, quickening his pace.

The Qiao sisters and Wu Qing, hearing he still refused to answer, hurried after him, pestering him relentlessly. Any ordinary man might have fallen under the spell of such beauties, but for Shen Qingyun, it was like walking on needles.

With another burst of that peculiar footwork, he sped away so quickly that the three couldn’t keep up.

“I won’t give up! Even if I have to search every place one by one!” Wu Qing’s voice floated after him, making him stumble and nearly tumble off the mountain path.

Back on the secluded Bamboo Peak, Shen Qingyun suddenly sensed something and turned toward a remote part of the mountain trail.

“Damn it!” Ling Xiao punched the cold stone wall. Without using spiritual energy to protect his hand, he struck the wall hard, the blow landing directly on flesh and bone.

“Why am I so weak? I let Junior Brother Su get hurt!” he exclaimed, landing another punch. This time, red marks appeared on the stone—his hand was already scraped and bleeding.

Two punches shouldn’t have done this—Ling Xiao must have been here for a long time.

“If you keep punching, the stone wall might start to hurt,” came a voice from behind.

Ling Xiao froze, then turned to see Shen Qingyun standing there, arms folded, his expression unreadable.