Chapter Six: Calamity Without Cause

Upon hearing this, Liu Junlin suddenly ducked into the water. After a while, he barely surfaced, trembling as he spoke, “Senior Brother… my clothes are dirty. Could you fetch me a clean set?”

There was no response from Liu Zhanyan for a long time. His mind lingered on the sight he had just witnessed—Junlin’s body covered in wounds. Junlin was a prince, the next heir to the state of Liu. How could he be subjected to such treatment?

A discomfort stirred within him, as if he’d caught a chill—dull and piercing. Unconsciously, he moved forward, not bothering to undress, and entered the hot spring, swimming to Junlin’s back. In a solemn voice, he said, “The hot spring must be mixed with the special medicinal powder made by our master to heal injuries. You’ve mistaken the method, junior brother.”

Junlin’s body stiffened. Senior brother had called him “junior brother”—he must be angry. He was about to turn and explain, but Zhanyan stopped him, “No, don’t turn around!” The voice unmistakably carried a hint of tears.

The stone that had weighed on Junlin’s heart fell almost instantly. Flustered, he said, “Senior brother, don’t cry…”

Zhanyan immediately shouted, “Shut up, you fool! Who says I’m crying!”

Junlin couldn’t help but smile inwardly, thinking, “It’s not even your wounds, so why cry so miserably? Silly senior brother…”

Sniffling, Zhanyan took out two small porcelain bottles from his sleeve. He poured the contents of one into the spring, and handed the other to Junlin, saying, “The medicine added to the spring lasts three days, but this one is for internal use. You must continue taking it until not a single scar remains.”

As he spoke, he cautiously leaned against the only uninjured patch of Junlin’s shoulder and continued, “Though Master seems unserious on ordinary days, his skills are unmatched. Tomorrow, you should learn martial arts from him, and your body will recover.”

Sure enough, once Zhanyan sprinkled the medicinal powder, the pain in Junlin’s body gradually faded. He softly replied, “Alright.”

After a moment’s silence, Zhanyan whispered into Junlin’s ear, “Junlin, no one in Zixu Daoist Temple will tolerate being bullied. Remember our iron rule: If others don’t harm us, we don’t harm them. But if they hurt us, we repay tenfold! If you can’t bring yourself to act, I will…”—though Zhanyan didn’t finish his sentence, the murderous intent in his tone shocked Junlin.

Junlin was astonished—partly at this new side of his senior brother, partly at how important he was to him. Clearly, he meant far more to Zhanyan than he’d ever imagined.

Thinking this, Junlin was filled with irrepressible joy. He tried to appear composed as he said, “Senior brother, I understand.”

Zhanyan nodded in satisfaction. His junior brother was still far too gentle, to be bullied so badly by those in the palace. He ought to instill the right mindset in his good junior brother…

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“A—achoo!” Zhanyan sneezed unexpectedly, instantly breaking the heavy atmosphere.

He quickly stripped off his wet clothes. “After the bath, you’ll have to fetch me something to wear. These are soaked.” Before Junlin could respond, Zhanyan added, “And hand all these clothes to your little tagalong for a cold-water wash!”

Junlin chuckled. “Senior brother, he’s just unfamiliar with things. Please go easy on him, don’t bully him too much.”

Zhanyan retorted, “Who’s bullying whom? Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Junlin replied, “No, no, I’m always on your side, senior brother.”

Zhanyan snorted, “That’s more like it!”

Once the two brothers had enjoyed their bath, Zhanyan, feeling spontaneous, decided to take Junlin to his secret place, located at another exit of the hot spring. Junlin naturally agreed.

Emerging from the underground spring, all they saw was a world of white.

Zhanyan led Junlin through twists and turns in the woods. Soon, they arrived at a clearing. Suddenly, a rustling sounded from the nearby brush, and a white blur darted out. Zhanyan caught it smoothly and laughed, “Xiaobai, stop making trouble!”

Junlin looked closely—the white blur was a little fox, with a peach blossom mark between its brows, quite distinctive.

Xiaobai happily licked Zhanyan’s cheek a few times, then nestled comfortably in his arms. With eyes half-closed, it cast a glance at Junlin, who was surprised to feel a hint of hostility in those amber eyes. Yet he shook his head—how could that be? It was merely a fox. He must have become overly suspicious from his time in the palace.

Watching the interaction between man and fox, Junlin asked, “Senior brother, is this…?”

Zhanyan shifted his gaze and answered, “This is the most precious treasure of my secret place. Look at the luster of its fur, the feel, and that unique mark between its brows—it’ll fetch a handsome price!”

Zhanyan sensed Xiaobai trembling in his arms and quickly soothed it, “Don’t worry, you’re still young. I won’t sell you just yet.” At these words, Xiaobai trembled even more, its little eyes pitiful and glistening, as if about to burst into tears.

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Junlin couldn’t help but laugh aloud. “Senior brother, don’t frighten it anymore. The little fellow seems quite clever—don’t scare your treasure away.”

Zhanyan kept stroking the fox’s fur and said, “It won’t run, Xiaobai won’t leave.”

Junlin was about to say more when another rustle came from the brush. His right eyelid twitched, and a sense of foreboding rose in his heart.

Zhanyan pursed his lips, instinctively shielding Junlin behind him.

Sure enough, several men in black suddenly burst from the undergrowth. The apparent leader laughed loudly, “What luck! The old Daoist’s temple is riddled with traps inside and out, but you two have saved me the trouble. I should thank you for making things easier!”

“How about this—I’ll send the young prince off first, then finish you with a single sword, leaving your bodies intact. How does that sound?”

Inside Zixu Daoist Temple, in the study.

Master Qingyu had just received a secret letter from the palace. After reading it, he rushed out, scouring the entire temple and finding only Xiaoxiangzi. He asked urgently, “Where’s your master?”

Xiaoxiangzi replied in confusion, “My master is with the Daoist’s disciple, isn’t he? What’s happened?”

Qingyu frowned deeply. That troublesome boy—didn’t he instruct him not to leave the temple in winter? Now he’s gotten himself into serious trouble… With that thought, Qingyu strode swiftly toward the temple’s exit.

The letter’s few words made the danger clear—simply put, a group of assassins were heading straight for the temple, targeting the young prince…

It was the rebellion of a feudal lord. He had sent two groups—one to the palace to assassinate the emperor, the lord himself waiting outside the palace for his chance; the other group to Zixu Daoist Temple to kill the young prince and eliminate all threats.

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