Chapter Ten: The Dragonfly Roams the World, Untroubled by Earthly Affairs

Chen Heng’s brows lifted ever so slightly.

Unlike Yuan Xing, resplendent in fine robes and crowned with elegance, Chen Ying was dressed simply. He wore an unadorned white cloth robe, his hair bound with a green hairpin. The left side of his face was concealed beneath a black jade mask, revealing only his eyes, leaving one to wonder if it masked an injury or something else.

“My former self had no blood brothers. Could he be from the Chen clan? No, even if he were kin, such a stirring in my blood would never occur. Who is this Chen Ying, really?”

“Master, please, this way.”

Chen Ying turned aside, gesturing for him to enter. Though the visible half of his face was refined, there was no true resemblance to Chen Heng—any such claim would be unfounded.

“It seems I have no choice but to obey.”

Seeing there was no way to refuse, Chen Heng ceased all protest. Chen Ying gave an apologetic smile, wrapped Chen Heng in his own spiritual energy, and soared into the sky.

“So eager to curry favor with the master again? Shameless creature!” Yuan Xing snorted and hurriedly followed on his own cloud.

When the clouds parted, revealing a palace of jade and azure suspended in the sky, their spiritual light descended gently, entering one of its halls.

Within the grand hall, seats for guests and hosts had already been arranged. As Chen Heng entered, the expressions of those present varied.

On the Xuanhe Jade Platform, Ai Jian wore an indifferent face, as if unaffected by the proceedings. Yet beneath his flowing sleeves, his tightly clenched fingers betrayed a tension that did not match his calm exterior.

“The sect master, Yan Feichen, Gu Jun, Master Yuan Ji, and this woman… All the distinguished cultivators of the Xuanzhen Sect are gathered here. Are they here to discuss something with her?”

Chen Heng surveyed the room quietly, greeting each in turn.

Yan Feichen’s face remained twisted with disdain and malice, openly displayed even in this setting. Gu Jun nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Master Yuan Ji, however, seemed strangely elated. He greeted Chen Heng with enthusiasm, hurried to his side, and offered a sycophantic bow to the beautiful woman.

“Master Alchemist, what do you think? Is this disciple truly fated as the Son of the Dark Heaven?”

Sheer pearls and fragrant sleeves adorned the beautiful woman. Her body exuded a subtle scent, like orchid and musk. She leaned on her elbows atop the jade table, supporting her alluring face with one hand, ignoring Master Yuan Ji. Her gaze remained fixed on Chen Heng, eyes rippling with passionate longing.

“….”

Chen Heng managed a stiff bow, his heart sinking.

He knew that gaze all too well.

When Yan Zhen was alive, she looked at his former self with the same near-obsessive eyes.

But this woman’s gaze was even more fervent, as though he were a delicacy she longed to devour, to savor every morsel to its last trace.

---

How hard it was to live anew, yet I must relive what befell my former self?

Chen Heng clenched his fists in silent resolve:

“I struggled to attain this breath of life, yet before these great cultivators, I am but a trinket, a plaything to be fondled and appraised at will…

If my appearance brings me no advantage in cultivating the Way, but only more hardship, perhaps it would be better simply to destroy it.”

At that moment.

Yuan Xing and Chen Ying had already withdrawn quietly behind the beautiful woman.

Sensing Chen Heng’s determination, Chen Ying looked up with interest, his eyes flickering.

“How intriguing, Chen Heng, is it? No wonder my blood responded so strongly just now.”

The half-face beneath his black jade mask curled into a wicked smile, entirely changing his demeanor:

“So ruthlessly resolute… If you are also the son of Jade Pivot, then everything makes sense. After all, our family is famed throughout the Nine Provinces for such traits…”

In the hall, silent except for Master Yuan Ji’s incessant chatter, Chen Heng’s expression was grave, his face frozen.

At length, the beautiful woman reluctantly withdrew her infatuated gaze, unable to hide her disappointment.

“What a pity. Though the young lord shines like the sun and moon, his fate is not that of the Son of the Dark Heaven…”

She shook her head.

There was both joy and regret in her voice, though joy ultimately outweighed it.

“What?!”

The first to speak was not Master Yuan Ji, but Ai Jian, who had maintained a facade of indifference.

“What nonsense is this! Wasn’t it you who claimed the Son of the Dark Heaven would be of exquisite beauty? The chosen ones are all gifted and radiant!”

Ai Jian lost composure, rising from the jade platform and knocking over a maid’s silver tray. Wine and spiritual food scattered across the floor.

“If even a figure like him, appearing once in five centuries in the southern lands, is not the Son of the Dark Heaven, then who is? Jun Yao? Jade Pivot himself? Are they better than this child? Absurd! Utterly ridiculous!”

“Little Jian, calm yourself.”

The beautiful woman produced a cone-shaped magical artifact and sighed:

“This was given to me before I came to the southern lands. If the Son of the Dark Heaven were within its radius, the jade cone would shine. Yet now…”

Ai Jian swept his gaze coldly over the untouched jade cone.

He flicked his sleeve and sat, eyes closed in indifference.

“This… this…”

---

Master Yuan Ji was at a loss, sweat pouring down his brow. “Master Alchemist, is there a mistake? Could we try again? Test one more?”

“Ah, young lord, though you’ve missed a great opportunity, perhaps it’s a blessing. My niece has cultivated from childhood, never knowing worldly joys or sorrows. How could she compare to me, who knows warmth and cold?”

The beautiful woman still ignored him, her eyes full of tender affection for Chen Heng, her charm overwhelming.

“Would you like to, as your brothers have, become my guest of honor? Don’t worry—if you wear this ‘Deheng Bracelet’, I will cherish you dearly. Whatever you desire, I can find it for you.”

She produced a delicate bracelet, shaking it playfully, her voice syrupy sweet:

“Do you love cultivation? Want to study at the Ai Clan in Shangyu, or enter the Huizhao Sect? If you agree, whether it’s advanced energy arts or the fundamental scriptures pointing directly to the return of the primal spirit, all will be yours.”

Chen Heng had no chance to respond.

A voice suddenly entered his mind.

“Do not accept! Once you wear the Deheng Bracelet, you will never have control over your life or death again, and before her, you’ll have no secrets.

Now, keep your eyes steady—follow me, I’ll teach you how to refuse her without provoking her…”

The voice belonged to Chen Ying.

Chen Heng dared not hesitate, ignoring the mystery of how Chen Ying could transmit voice in front of so many master alchemists, and carefully repeated Chen Ying’s words.

When he finished, he followed Chen Ying’s instructions, feigning fear and bowing to the ground. Though the beautiful woman was displeased, inexplicably she said nothing more.

Her odd reaction drew Ai Jian’s attention.

“Thank heavens, thank heavens.”

Chen Heng breathed a sigh of relief.

He noticed Yan Feichen’s expression of immense relief, and an idea suddenly formed in his heart.

“Sect Master, I have a request!”

Ai Jian looked at him impatiently, about to dismiss him, when he saw that Chen Heng, though bowing to him, had his gaze fixed on Yan Feichen.

After a moment’s thought, Ai Jian guessed what Chen Heng was about to ask.

“Speak then,” Ai Jian said, suddenly interested. “What is your request?”

“Since I ascended the mountain, I have devoted myself to the Way, and have not returned home in three years. Recently, my kinsman was cruelly slain by the wandering cultivator Xu Hui, and I have mourned day and night, uneasy in conscience, unable to face his parents. Thus, I beg the Sect Master’s permission…”

Chen Heng lowered his head.

“I entreat the Sect Master to allow me to descend the mountain, so that I may bury my kinsman’s body in the family tomb.”