Chapter 3: Worthy of Being My Dao Companion
Venerable Rong returned, bringing back a bowl of tender and fragrant pork rib soup.
"Eat." Learning from his previous experience, Rong Zhao placed the bowl on the bedside table, quickly withdrew his hand and tucked it back into his sleeve. "Eat your fill so you can get going."
Meng Zhifan: "..."
Rong Zhao belatedly realized the ambiguity in his words and had to add, "I mean coming with me... going home."
The word "home" sounded rather unfamiliar coming from Venerable Rong's mouth.
Could that place be called home? He pondered to himself; it was just a small courtyard on Mount Cuiyu, which he rarely went back to live in. It was more comfortable to stay in seclusion in the cave.
But it was perfectly suited and more than enough for keeping a mortal; the entire mountain is protected by a barrier, so there's no way to escape.
Meng Zhifan didn't reply, but simply picked up the bowl of pork rib soup and began to eat slowly.
He ate with great elegance, his posture holding the bowl and chopsticks perfectly balanced, his movements unhurried and poised. He was unlike an unknown mortal, but rather a pampered young master from a noble family.
When he had almost finished eating, Rong Zhao asked him, "Where do you come from?"
Meng Zhifan paused, seemingly pondering.
However, Venerable Rong didn't intend to hear his answer, stating bluntly, "No matter who you were before, or where you came from, once you fall into my hands, you belong to me. Even if you moved the entire Immortal Alliance here, they wouldn't save you."
Meng Zhifan looked up at him again.
Rong Zhao suspected that this mortal had been frightened out of his wits, otherwise why wouldn't he speak?
Suddenly, a soft laugh was heard.
He put down the soup bowl, calmly reached out to pull out a handkerchief peeking out from the drawer under the bedside table and wiped his mouth. Then, he looked directly at Rong Zhao: "What does the Venerable One intend to do to me?"
His eyes shone like stars.
Even though Rong Zhao had killed so many people over the years, he had never seen such captivating eyes.
Under Meng Zhifan's gaze, he even paused for a moment.
Then, ignoring the question, he asked instead: "Are you betrothed or married?"
"...No." Meng Zhifan was a little confused by this inexplicable question. After hesitating for a while, he added, "Though…. I suppose I can't say for certain."
"Either you are or you aren't. If you dare to lie in the slightest, this Venerable One will skin you alive, tear out your tendons, and grind your bones to refine you into pills."
"I don't remember." Meng Zhifan lowered his eyes. "Before I was imprisoned, I woke up in a dilapidated temple, remembering nothing, and spent three years alone."
Rong Zhao said "Oh."
Without the ties of the past, things would be much simpler.
With a flick of his wrist, the thin silk threads unspooled from his sleeve, seemingly alive, and swiftly climbed onto the bed, binding Meng Zhifan securely without breaking the skin
Meng Zhifan instinctively struggled.
"Don't move." Rong Zhao knelt on the edge of the bed, lifted Meng Zhifan's sleeve, gripped his slender, protruding wrist bone, and traced his hand upward along his forearm.
His warm palm covered the skin, making an ambiguous rustling sound as it rubbed.
Meng Zhifan was taken aback: "Venerable One??"
Rong Zhao ignored his surprise while keeping him bound, he continued to grope him all over, even lifting his clothes to reach inside and pressing his palm against his lower back.
Caught off guard, Meng Zhifan let out a soft groan.
Rong Zhao looked up in confusion: "What are you making that noise for?"
"..." Their current position was rather awkward. Meng Zhifan's eyelashes trembled. He lowered his gaze to Rong Zhao, who was practically clinging to him. After a long pause, he said with difficulty, "Although I don't remember my past, I still recall the basic of propriety"
”So?"
"My encounter with you, Venerable One, was merely a chance meeting..." Meng Zhifan wasn't sure if this cultivator was feigning ignorance or genuinely clueless. After a moment's hesitation, he cautiously said, "This is not appropriate."
Rong Zhao snorted, climbed out of his embrace, straightened his clothes, and emphasized, "You belong to this Venerable One."
"...Yes, that's right." Meng Zhifan didn't mind Rong Zhao's choice of words or attitude. He only wanted to understand what this cultivator wanted to do and whether he would be used as a rare treasure for alchemy. Therefore, he was very compliant and spoke gently, "What does Venerable One want me to do?"
"You are still a virgin." The results of the examination were satisfactory, and Rong Zhao's attitude softened considerably. He withdrew Rao Zhi Rou, the binding threads from around Meng Zhifan's body, "You are worthy to be my Dao Companion."
Meng Zhifan was momentarily stunned. Unable to process what he had just heard.
Seeing that he didn't speak, Rong Zhao assumed he was unwilling.
"You're just a mere mortal spirit mushroom; if you step outside, you are destined to be torn apart and stripped of your flesh and bones. Haven't you suffered enough imprisonment at the hands of the Chuyun Sect? Or would you rather die than be my Dao companion?" His tone grew increasingly cold.
"No," Meng Zhifan snapped back to reality and asked gently, "it's just... Why me?"
This mortal had so many questions.
Rong Zhao was a little impatient, but didn't want to lose his temper. He pinched Meng Zhifan's chin, establishing a rule for him: "Remember, you have no right to ask me why. Just know that I will treat you well, so just behave yourself."
"..." Meng Zhifan felt a sharp pain from the pinch, but knowing his life wasn't in danger, he didn't care too much about these small details and nodded, "Okay."
_____
Rong Zhao used all his patience to help Meng Zhifan recover from his illness for half a month, then quickly dragged him back to Mount Cuiyu.
However, the mortal carefully tended by Venerable Rong fell ill again.
It wasn't that Meng Zhifan was too fragile; it was simply that Rong Zhao had no concept of ordinary people. He had traveled too fast and got into several fights along the way.
The battles between cultivators often lasted from dusk till dawn, with one group leaving only to be replaced by another, eventually causing Meng Zhifan, who was inside the defensive barrier, to faint from hunger.
As the last person fled in panic, Rong Zhao descended from mid-air. His expression cold, his body covered in blood, and his eyes still brimming with lingering ferocity. Warm blood dripped from his fingertips, leaving a trail behind him.
He waved away the defensive barrier, bent down to pick up the unconscious Meng Zhifan, and frowned ever so slightly.
Mortals…aren’t they a bit too difficult to raise?
So delicate.
Rong Zunzhe made his way home while carrying a mortal, showing no sign of restraint. Although ordinary cultivators rarely got close to battles between Venerables, they would still leave some traces.
That absurd rumor quietly arose from these traces, spreading rapidly and intensifying.
At the time, Venerable Rong was preoccupied with his delicate, high maintenance mortal and hadn’t noticed this, but later…it turned out to be seven or eight parts true.
It was something Rong Zhao had never expected.
The final stage of the Path of Ruthless, severing all worldly ties, actually caused him to fall into a long-forgotten bottleneck, almost damaging his Ruthless Dao heart.
