The disciple's face turned ashen, his head trembling as he lowered it, daring not to speak.
Jiang Ling had been on the Meditation Cliff for a year. When he descended, the surrounding environment felt somewhat unfamiliar.
Returning to his room to wash and clean up, he went alone to the Qingxin Hall.
His heart, always calm as water, seemed to ripple only at this moment.
For some reason, he hesitated, afraid to step inside.
A year was not long; for a cultivator, it was merely the blink of an eye.
His mind still clearly recalled the look in his master's eyes the last time she saw him—cold and sharp. He doubted he would ever forget it.
His master, who had always seemed cool yet gentle in his eyes, displayed no trace of her former kindness. She hadn't even shown much expression, making her exquisitely painted eyebrows seem as if coated in a layer of frost, chilling and piercing.
It was as if she had been utterly disappointed in him, which was why she had shown such an expression.
She, was extremely disappointed in him.
"..."
Jiang Ling stood there, lost and helpless.
His gaze remained vacant, his legs as heavy as lead, unable to move. Yet, his fingers instinctively clenched, his nails digging into his flesh.
It had been a year, but he still dared not forget that look, nor had he. To this day, he felt he could still sense that bone-chilling aura and those indifferent eyes, replaying in his mind, over and over again.
During this year on the Meditation Cliff, he felt he had done nothing wrong in his actions, but he knew he had wronged his master by disappointing her.
Every time he thought of his master's expression, a profound sense of panic and bitterness would spread from the depths of his heart.
This caused Jiang Ling to feel a heart-rending pain for the first time.
He felt he no longer had the face to see his master, or rather, he lacked the courage to face a indifferent master.
How terrified he was that his master would look at him with that same cold gaze.
Slowly lowering his head, he loosened his clenched fists. He looked blankly at his bloody palm, like a child who had made a mistake, unsure how to make amends.
A disciple in white emerged from the Qingxin Hall. He seemed to already know Jiang Ling was at the entrance.
"Senior Disciple Brother, Immortal Venerable wishes for you to enter."
Jiang Ling lowered his head, tidying his unwrinkled white robes, adjusting the jade coronet on his head. He forced the gentlest, most fitting smile onto his pale face.
He was like a young man before meeting his beloved, caught in indecision, though he himself did not notice this unconscious gesture.
The Qingxin Hall was as quiet as ever.
Jiang Ling had visited so often that he knew every path by heart.
He had prepared himself mentally and thought about how he would confess his sins, but all the thoughts in his mind vanished in an instant upon seeing his master, as if struck by a blow.
Shen Yue was playing chess with herself. Beside her, freshly boiled tea was placed, the faint rising steam blurring her eyebrows. Her face, as pure as jade, seemed less cold.
Her slender, jade-white fingers held a white stone, hesitating for a long time before placing it.
Her wide sleeves slipped slightly, revealing her delicate, snow-white wrist.
Hearing footsteps, she turned her head slightly. "You dare to come in?"
Jiang Ling's pale eyes widened, his pupils trembling uncontrollably, unable to meet Shen Yue's gaze.
His fingers twisted his sleeve, his knuckles turning green.
He lowered his head and, after a long silence, suddenly knelt down without a word, cupped his hands, and said, "Your disciple is here to confess. I have failed your teachings, Master. I implore you to punish me."
Shen Yue's face showed no flicker of emotion. Scattered golden light fell upon her face, her jade-white skin glowing as if with a faint frost. Her clear eyes were neither pleased nor displeased.
The white chess piece in her hand finally fell. "Since when has Qingyun Sect approved of speaking while kneeling?"
Upon hearing this, Jiang Ling quickly stood up. His appearance was truly not good at the moment. He had kept his head down the entire time, his face pale and bloodless, his lips tinged with blue.
He now stood with his head bowed dazedly, his expression unreadable.
He was a far cry from the mature and magnanimous Senior Disciple Brother he had been before.
He seemed to be chilled by Shen Yue's words. His pupils dilated, vacant and soulless, only knowing how to repeatedly admit his fault.
"Your disciple has erred. Your disciple is willing to accept punishment."
As long as Shen Yue did not look at him with such an indifferent gaze, he was willing to accept any punishment. Even if he felt he had done nothing wrong, he had never believed himself to be in the wrong. Exterminating demons had always been his duty. Rong Hua had harbored demonic beings and deserved severe punishment.
Yet, from beginning to end, he was the only one being punished.
Jiang Ling knew he had never truly caught his master's eye. Now, he probably bore the stigma of harming a fellow disciple in her eyes.
She was likely so disappointed that she wouldn't even spare him a glance.
After all, he had nearly killed his master's most beloved disciple.
This was only right. No matter how his master punished him, he would not utter a single word of complaint.
Only by repeatedly making his body suffer and endure pain would his heart, crushed by heavy shackles, feel a little better.
Jiang Ling thought with an almost numb resignation.
Shen Yue seemed to sense the excessively sorrowful and painful aura emanating from Jiang Ling, and her fingers paused.
She finally turned to face Jiang Ling, but Jiang Ling lacked the courage to look up at her.
Cowardly and self-deceptive.
"Raise your head."
Her faint, shallow voice made Jiang Ling's body stiffen. He obeyed Shen Yue's words almost unconsciously; his body reacted before his mind could process the command.
He slowly raised his head, his eyelashes trembling incessantly, his eyes darting around but unable to meet Shen Yue's face.
Seeing this, Shen Yue smiled.
Jiang Ling inadvertently met Shen Yue's smile. He looked at the slightly gentle smile on her face, and Jiang Ling, who had been in a state of anxious unrest, paused. His pupils trembled slightly.
The suffocating, profound emotions instantly dissipated.
His gaze greedily fixed on Shen Yue's every subtle expression, unwilling to look away, fearing this was but a fleeting, beautiful dream.
Shen Yue could not see, nor did she know how dazed the man was at this moment.
She said to Jiang Ling, "Come, play a game with me."
Jiang Ling seemed foolish, doing whatever Shen Yue told him to do. He sat opposite Shen Yue, his expression still dazed.
She wore a white blindfold, and her full, vibrant red lips curved into a small arc, more beautiful than anything else, soft enough to fill one's heart.
Jiang Ling subconsciously obeyed her command, his slightly trembling fingers picking up a black chess piece.
He was completely in a haze, paying no heed to the chessboard. He played the game in a daze and lost in a daze.