No one dared to stare openly at Shen Yue's face. Even though they knew she couldn't see, the oppressive aura emanating from the powerful being was too imposing.
At this moment, Bi Lian knew Shen Yue was hesitating, seemingly genuinely considering whether to let him stay in Qingxin Hall.
This, in turn, made Bi Lian unhappy, his brows darkening with displeasure.
He couldn't understand when Shen Yue's thoughts had become so easily swayed. Just because an ordinary disciple asked to stay by her side, she hesitated instead of refusing.
Had Shen Yue's temper softened so much after all these centuries?
She would let anyone stay in Qingxin Hall!
Finally, the immortal, with her exceptionally beautiful face and cold, pale skin, slightly raised her head. Her long, swan-like neck was so stunningly beautiful it was captivating; every tilt and curve formed an exceptionally smooth and graceful arc.
Bi Lian knew Shen Yue had made up her mind.
A gentle breeze swept by, scattering the pink petals. She, with her white hair and white robes, her lips as if stained with blood, and a profoundly indifferent expression, declared, "Since that is the case, you may remain in Qingxin Hall."
The unexpected answer caused a surge of ferocity to churn in Bi Lian's chest. Yet, he forced his voice to sound overjoyed.
"Thank you, Immortal Venerable! This disciple will surely take good care of Immortal Venerable!"
He deliberately emphasized the words "take care" in his tone.
Shen Yue did not notice. She flipped her palm, and a jade pendant appeared in her hand. "This is a token of Qingxin Hall. Keep it well... I do not require your care."
She added the last sentence after a slight pause, pursing her lips with a hint of awkwardness.
As a dignified Immortal Venerable, why would she need a disciple to look after her? The thought itself seemed rather peculiar.
The youth happily accepted the jade pendant from her. However, unseen by her, a tiny wisp of black mist, emanating demonic energy, slipped into her from her loose sleeves.
Shen Yue seemed to sense something, her expression freezing for a moment. But the wisp of energy vanished too quickly to be detected.
She cautiously scanned her surroundings again. Assured that there was nothing unusual, she then said to the youth, "You may withdraw."
After speaking, Shen Yue turned to leave. It was at that very moment of turning that an inexplicable sharp pain struck her chest. Her face turned pale, and her fingers, as slender as green onions, instinctively pressed against her chest. Her entire frail body swayed.
"Immortal Venerable!"
The youth's voice, filled with concern and anxiety, reached her ears. Following closely were a pair of strong arms, full of power, encircling her trembling waist. A scorching warmth spread through her thin robes.
It was then she realized that the disciple, whose voice sounded young and vibrant, possessed a tall and well-built physique. She could even feel his firm, powerfully built muscles.
His warm breath brushed against her ear. "Is Immortal Venerable unwell?"
Though his words sounded concerned, the pain in Shen Yue's chest grew more intense, almost unbearable.
Shen Yue quietly asked the system: [What's wrong with me?]
She had known all along that this youth was the great villain, that he was Bi Lian. Initially, she hadn't realized it. It was only when the youth inexplicably called her "Master" just now that she sensed something was amiss. Upon further reflection, everything became clear.
System: [You've been entangled by something foul. If you feel pain, I can help you block the sensation, or I can help you eliminate this foul thing.]
Shen Yue pondered for a moment: [Eliminating it is not necessary. You can help me block the pain, but don't block it entirely, otherwise, it'll be hard to act.]
The system, as always, was reliable at crucial moments: [Alright.]
A significant portion of the pain in her chest subsided, but Shen Yue's complexion grew increasingly pallid.
Bi Lian hadn't expected his demonic energy to reach the opponent's core so smoothly. While his movements were indeed subtle, Shen Yue, who was at the Mahayana stage, shouldn't have been completely unable to detect even a trace.
Bi Lian couldn't be bothered to ponder it further; it was beneficial to him anyway.
Her slender white fingers lowered. Shen Yue's face was so pale and sickly it was almost transparent. She seemed unaware of how terrible she looked, still speaking with a serene, unperturbed tone, "It's nothing. You may withdraw now."
As she spoke, she pulled away from the youth's embrace, eager to leave.
However, her body seemed uncooperative. The moment she took a step, her figure swayed, her calves felt weak, and the pain in her chest intensified. Just as she was about to fall, she stumbled back into a warm, broad chest.
This sudden onset of pain left Shen Yue completely unable to cope.
Her body and cultivation had long since declined from their peak. Although it wasn't apparent on the surface, her body was actually extremely weak. She hadn't even realized at first that demonic energy had already entwined itself around her core.
Within her frail frame, the dragon poison grew increasingly rampant. Every minor ache was magnified a thousandfold on her body, no longer something she could simply endure.
Bi Lian gripped the soft, slender waist of the white-robed immortal. He looked at her trembling lips, which seemed to still be suppressing muffled cries of pain.
Indeed, how could a high and mighty Immortal Venerable reveal such a disheveled, undignified appearance in front of an ordinary disciple? She thought that if she held back, others wouldn't see.
How naive. Yet, she didn't realize that her slightly trembling lips, as vibrant as fresh blood, had already betrayed her.
His shoulders were broad, his arms long, and his muscles ample yet beautifully proportioned, making him appear anything but bulky. Held in his arms, Shen Yue could be easily concealed by him, preventing anyone from glimpsing even a sliver of her skin.
Now, lying in his embrace, she was powerless and slumped against him due to the pain, appearing fragile yet beautiful.
It was then that Bi Lian realized, with a sense of daze, that his senior brother, who was cold-blooded, unfeeling, heartless, and as emotionless as a block of ice, possessed such a soft, light body that exuded a faint, sweet, yet not cloying, exceptionally pleasant fragrance.
And now, he was holding her waist possessively, refusing any attempt to escape.
That waist was so soft, so slender. He mused that if he just applied a little more force, he could probably break it with ease.
Suddenly, he no longer wished to kill her so easily.
Killing her with a single blow would be too simple, unworthy of the suffering he had endured for so long. He wanted to make her life worse than death.
He wanted her to understand that living could be more terrifying than dying.
What could be more cruel than to drag the one who hung in the sky like the moon on a clear night down into the abyss, into the mud, then break her wings, press her onto a bed, and humiliate her?