Suo Qingjun Chapter 11

The Sword Conceals a Crazed Soul to Deceive the Fair Face; Obsession Turns Demonic to Control the Master’s Heart

Murong Xue and Tang Yuwei stayed at Qihe Peak for three days. During this time, they tried multiple times to discuss the remnants of the Demonic Cult with Qing Feng’an, but Jin Xianling always interrupted them without leaving a trace.

He would use the excuse of hitting a wall in his sword practice to ask for Qing Feng’an’s guidance, or prepare tea and snacks to serve just as their conversation grew heated. More than that, whenever they mentioned the name “Jin Xianling,” he would calmly and proactively join the conversation. He would earnestly analyze his past mistakes and show utter loathing whenever the Demonic Cult was mentioned, his sincerity so convincing that no one could doubt him.

Qing Feng’an’s trust in him grew. Jin Xianling’s swordsmanship had already grasped the essence of the Seven Styles of Cloud Flow, and in the adaptation of certain moves, he even showed signs of surpassing his master. More impressively, he acted steadily and treated others with humility, managing the sect’s affairs in an orderly fashion. He had completely shed his former crazed appearance.

One morning, Murong Xue and Tang Yuwei proposed going down the mountain to track leads on the Demonic Cult. Qing Feng’an originally intended to go with them, but Jin Xianling stopped him.

“Master, sect affairs are complicated; how can you easily leave the mountain?” Jin Xianling’s tone was respectful, but his eyes held a trace of imperceptible possessiveness. “Miss Murong and Miss Tang are highly skilled in martial arts, more than enough to handle the remnants of the Demonic Cult. I am willing to go with them. I can lend a hand and share your burdens, Master.”

Qing Feng’an thought for a moment and found it reasonable. Jin Xianling’s martial arts had reached great heights; having him along would indeed be reassuring. “Very well. You must ensure the safety of the two ladies.”

“I obey your command,” Jin Xianling replied with a bow. As he turned away, a cold smile flickered in the depths of his eyes.

After the three left the mountain, Qing Feng’an went to the back mountain alone to practice his sword. The light of the Light Chaser sword flowed, yet he felt it lacked the clarity of previous days. He sensed something was slightly off. Murong Xue and Tang Yuwei had been gone for three days without sending back any news, which was completely unlike their efficient style.

While he was pondering, a familiar figure stepped through the spiritual mist. It was Jin Xianling. His traveling clothes were stained with a bit of dust, and he bowed calmly. “Master, I have returned.”

“Where are the two ladies?” Qing Feng’an asked.

“Miss Murong and Miss Tang found traces of the Demonic Cult remnants and insisted on investigating further. I couldn’t persuade them otherwise, so I came back first to report to you,” Jin Xianling’s tone was natural, as if everything was perfectly logical. “They asked me to tell you not to worry; they will return once the truth is uncovered.”

Qing Feng’an nodded, not suspecting anything. He trusted Jin Xianling and believed in the strength of Murong Xue and Tang Yuwei.

However, another three days passed, and there was still no word. The unease in Qing Feng’an’s heart grew stronger, and he decided to go down the mountain himself to find them.

“Master, there is no need for you to go personally.” Jin Xianling blocked him, his tone carrying a hint of unquestionable firmness. “I have already ascertained their whereabouts. They are trapped in a secret passage at the old site of Black Wind Ridge. I will go to rescue them immediately. You only need to wait for good news here at the sect.”

Qing Feng’an frowned. “Although the miasma at Black Wind Ridge has dissipated, it remains dangerous. I am not at ease with you going alone.”

“Rest assured, Master. My current martial arts are enough to handle any danger.” Jin Xianling smiled slightly, a flash of confidence and paranoia crossing his eyes. “Besides, I want to prove to you that my three years of cultivation were not just empty talk.”

Qing Feng’an hesitated for a moment but was ultimately persuaded. “Very well. Be extremely careful. If there is danger, send word back immediately.”

“I understand.” Jin Xianling bowed and left. When he reached the mountain gate, he looked back at Qing Feng’an’s silhouette, a manic smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Master, in the end, you still trust me. Since that is the case, then stay by my side forever and never think of anyone else again.

That night, Qing Feng’an sat quietly in the courtyard, but the unease in his heart grew more intense. He felt that Jin Xianling’s words and actions today were somewhat abnormal; that confidence was too blatant, as if everything was under his control.

Suddenly, he sensed a faint ripple of True Qi coming from the direction of Jin Xianling’s courtyard. His heart stirred, and he quietly glided over.

Jin Xianling’s courtyard was brightly lit, his silhouette cast upon the window paper. Qing Feng’an hid in the shadows and heard Jin Xianling’s voice from within, his tone cold and manic: “Murong Xue, Tang Yuwei, did you really think that with your meager skills, you could drive a wedge between me and Master? How naive.”

Qing Feng’an’s heart sank. Just as he was about to push the door open, he suddenly felt a powerful surge of True Qi strike him, instantly sealing his acupoints. Caught off guard, he was unable to move. He could only watch helplessly as Jin Xianling pushed open the door and stood before him.

The gentleness of previous days was gone from Jin Xianling’s face, replaced by a frenzied obsession and paranoia. “Master, you came after all.”

“Was it you who trapped Miss Murong and Miss Tang?” Qing Feng’an’s tone was calm, but a storm was raging in his heart. He hadn’t expected that Jin Xianling’s martial arts had reached a level where he could silently seal his acupoints, nor did he expect that he had been pretending all along.

“What if it was? What if it wasn’t?” Jin Xianling leaned down, his fingertips lightly stroking Qing Feng’an’s cheek. His movements were tender, but his eyes were wild. “Who told them to always try and take you away? Master, you are mine. You can only be mine. No one is allowed to covet you, and no one is allowed to come between us.”

“You’re mad!” Qing Feng’an rebuked.

“Mad?” Jin Xianling laughed loudly, his voice carrying a hint of shrillness. “I’ve been mad since the first moment I saw you! These three years of quiet meditation and enlightenment were only to make you trust me, so that I would have the power to keep you by my side!”

He raised his hand and unsealed Qing Feng’an’s mute acupoint but kept his movements restricted. “Master, are you very disappointed now? Do you feel that I am still that same crazed youth from back then?”

Looking at the madness in his eyes, Qing Feng’an felt a complex mix of emotions. He wanted to reprimand him, to shout in anger, but he found himself unable to speak. The disciple he trusted, the one he had painstakingly taught, had ultimately been consumed by obsession and turned into a demon.

“Master, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” Jin Xianling stroked his hair tenderly, his tone infatuated. “I only want you to stay by my side, to stay by my side forever. From now on, Qihe Peak will be our paradise, and no one will ever come to disturb us again.”

He picked Qing Feng’an up, turned to enter the courtyard, and closed the door. The flickering candlelight reflected his manic and satisfied smile.

“Master, look, isn’t this wonderful?” Jin Xianling placed Qing Feng’an on the bed and leaned over to look at him. “We can finally be together forever. ‘The sword breaks worldly ties to lock the fair face; a lifetime of madness to stay by the master’s side.’ Master, this is the poem I wrote for us. Do you like it?”

Qing Feng’an looked at him, his eyes no longer filled with anger, only deep helplessness and sorrow. He knew that Jin Xianling’s obsession had seeped into his very marrow and could no longer be resolved. And he, subdued by the disciple he trusted most, was trapped in this small space, not knowing when he would ever see the light of day again.

Meanwhile, Jin Xianling sat by the bed, tightly holding Qing Feng’an’s hand, his eyes full of possessiveness and satisfaction. He knew that Master might not understand his feelings right now, but it didn’t matter; they had plenty of time. He would slowly make Master get used to his presence, used to his company, until there was no one left in Master’s eyes but him.

This three-year-long charade and wait had finally come to a twisted conclusion in the most frantic way possible. The entanglement between Qing Feng’an and Jin Xianling would continue to play out its drama of madness and redemption within this cage-like paradise.