The Oldest Disciple: Farming Intimacy to Become Immortal

Chapter 217: It Must Be Senior Sister’s Fault

Hidden behind the translucent bed curtains, two silhouettes were barely discernible. One sat upright while the other lay reclined, the air between them thick with a lingering warmth.

Chen Lan’s eyes were like shimmering silk, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she shyly met Li Meng’s gaze.

…

Half an hour later, the pavilion fell into a serene silence.

Chen Lan lay draped across Li Meng’s chest, her finger tracing idle circles over his heart. She had a thousand things she wanted to whisper to him—promises, fears, and longings—but in his presence, the words felt redundant. It was enough to simply be with him, clinging to the quiet peace of the night until the inevitable moment of his departure.

Li Meng remained silent, his arm draped possessively around her soft, supple waist.

The night deepened, eventually giving way to the first light of dawn. As the morning sun crested the peaks of Sunset Glow Peak, movement stirred in the upper chambers.

“Senior Brother, do I look beautiful?”

Chen Lan stood by the bedside, draped in her robes. She looked back, tossing him a playful, seductive glance that radiated charm.

Li Meng, still resting on the bed, grinned widely. “Beautiful? You’re breathtaking.”

The girl was becoming more alluring by the day. The curve of her waist, the length of her legs, the perfect fullness of her silhouette—it was a masterpiece of nature. Though the “view” had been brief this morning, Li Meng relished every second of it.

Later, they sat together at the stone tea table in the courtyard.

“Junior Sister, while I am away, you must not slacken in your cultivation,” Li Meng advised, his tone shifting to that of a seasoned mentor. “But do not simply wall yourself up within the Sect. For a cultivator, traveling and gaining experience is the only way to temper the mind. To sit in bitter, dull meditation for years on end is a hollow pursuit.”

On the mountain, “bitter cultivation” was a notorious trap. To train the body without tempering the heart was a surefire recipe for Qi Deviation. The higher a cultivator’s realm, the more they understood the necessity of the long journey; it was a truth only revealed to those who walked the path.

Chen Lan listened with devoted attention. In her heart, Senior Brother could never be wrong. She wasn’t fond of isolation anyway, and with Li Meng gone, the Sect would feel like an empty shell. She decided then and there to take on more missions and perhaps even fight for a spot on the Hero List to secure more resources.

As the sun began its descent into the west, Li Meng finally departed Sunset Glow Peak.

—

Joyous Union Sect, inner territory, Masked Moon Peak.

On the high viewing platform of a secluded pavilion, a sharp crack rang out.

Ruoshui’s fingers had tightened until her jade teacup shattered into a dozen fragments.

“My ‘good’ disciple… he certainly is a busy man,” she murmured, her voice a cocktail of helpless melancholy and suppressed fury.

The Sect’s expedition to the Kongming Hall was imminent. Instead of seeking his Master’s guidance or preparing for the journey, her disciple was gallivanting across every peak in the inner territory.

He was busy, indeed.

Qi Wei, sitting opposite her, peered at the remains of the cup. “Senior Sister, who has upset you so?”

Ruoshui flicked her sleeve, and the porcelain dust vanished into nothingness. “Who do you think?”

Qi Wei tilted her head, her dark eyes wide and innocent as she took a slow sip of tea. “It certainly couldn’t be Senior Brother. Senior Brother is far too kind to make anyone angry.”

Ruoshui’s hand shook. Her second cup narrowly escaped the fate of the first. “Hmph! Aside from him, who else in this world has the ability to irritate me to this degree?”

Qi Wei’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. She looked at Ruoshui, her mind clearly racing, until a look of sudden, profound realization dawned on her face.

“Then it must be Senior Sister’s fault!”

CRACK!

The second teacup met its end.

“Senior Sister! What are you doing?” Qi Wei cried out. “Why have you been so temperamental lately?”

Without a word, Ruoshui lashed her sleeve forward. A Message Flying Sword erupted from her palm, a streak of cold light that tore across the sky and vanished beyond the horizon in a heartbeat.

Ruoshui stared out at the distant peaks, her expression icy.

—

Joyous Union Sect, inner territory, Flowing Cloud Peak.

Deep within the Flowing Cloud Cave, the local pavilion was anything but quiet.

A rhythmic thumping echoed through the halls, accompanied by the sound of a woman weeping. She sounded as though she were being subjected to a rigorous “beating,” her cries shifting erratically between sobs and breathless, delirious laughter.

Suddenly, a streak of sword-light plummeted from the heavens, shattering the window and whistling into the room.

“Ah!”

Hua Biying’s shriek pierced the air.

“Junior Sister, don’t panic! It’s just a Message Flying Sword!” Li Meng’s voice strained with sudden exertion.

“Senior Brother! I’m so sorry—did it hit you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine… your Senior Brother isn’t that fragile…”

“Are you sure? Your face is so pale.”

“Is it? It’s… just the lighting.”

“But your voice sounds so strange! Senior Brother, are you really okay?”

“I’m… actually, it really hurts! Dammit!”

It took another half-hour for the pavilion to regain its composure. With a soft thud, the upstairs window was pushed open.

A figure draped in a gossamer-thin inner robe drifted out, riding the wind. Her snow-white skin was tantalizingly visible through the translucent fabric, the voluptuous curves of her body creating a silhouette so alluring it was impossible to look away.

Hua Biying glided down into the cold spring pond, her toes barely rippling the surface before she let herself sink into the water. The chill enveloped her, cooling her flushed skin. She looked back up at the window expectantly.

Why was he taking so long?

“Looking for me?”

A splash erupted behind her. Li Meng surfaced like a predator, his arms locking around her waist. Hua Biying’s face turned a shade of red that rivaled the sunset.

He turned her around in the water, their eyes meeting. In the frigid depths of the pond, the heat radiating from their bodies was the only thing that mattered. Li Meng leaned down, claiming her lips in a passionate kiss.

Like mandarin ducks playing in the reeds, they lost themselves in the moment.

Meanwhile, in the room above, a Message Flying Sword lay on the floor, snapped cleanly in two.

The next morning, the two sat in the lakeside pavilion.

“Senior Brother, will there be trouble?” Hua Biying asked, her mind returning to the sword from the previous night. That message had bypassed the mountain-protecting arrays with ease; it seemed the Maze Formation provided by the Sect was little more than a paper shield against true experts.

“You mean the flying sword?” Li Meng smiled, though the expression was a bit more mischievous—bordering on wicked—than usual.

Hua Biying blushed and gave his chest a light, playful punch. “Senior Brother! Be serious for a moment!”

“Right, right. Serious. I can do serious,” Li Meng chuckled, stroking his chin. “It’s fine. At worst, I’ll just have to endure some biting sarcasm from a certain someone. She’s never been particularly fond of me anyway. I’ll just bite the bullet.”

Curiosity sparked in Hua Biying’s eyes. Someone who didn’t like Senior Brother? Who could it be? His Master?

Was it Senior Ruoshui from Moon Gaze Peak?

The thought sent a jolt of panic through her. If Ruoshui had discovered their secret relationship…

Hua Biying’s face burned hotter than ever.