Chapter 52: The Martial World’s Winds Shift Overnight; Only Then Is Lan Lang Revealed as Yu Lang (Part Two)
by GideonWen Jin leaned against the bedpost, drenched in sweat. His arms were wrapped around Lan Yulang’s head as he gasped for air.
Lan Yulang, like a starving ghost reborn, gnawed at the two uncolored cherry fruits with an utterly ravishing intensity.
Outside the window, the torrential rain had long since drowned out the young man’s soft moans. It wasn’t until Lan Yulang lifted his head that Wen Jin gave him a reproaching shove.
Lan Yulang’s thin lips glistened with moisture. His gaze remained fixed on the two cherry-colored fruits, which had swollen several times their original size. He murmured in low admiration, “So sweet.”
Wen Jin’s sleeping robe had long since been stripped away by Lan Yulang. Now, he tried to hide in the shadows of the bed curtains, attempting to escape the other’s scrutiny, only to be met with an even more blatant, naked stare.
Lan Yulang’s palm caressed one of the fruits with affection, savoring its engorged texture. “Jinjin, I read in a book that if one were to eat these day and night, they would become as plump as a woman. I wonder what they would look like after swelling further.”
Wen Jin endured his shame and scolded, “What kind of obscene book are you reading?”
“It is no obscene book, but a treatise on gu sorcery,” Lan Yulang deliberately pinched him.
Wen Jin let out a sharp moan and instinctively seized his wrist. “Big Brother…”
Lan Yulang, of course, would never bring himself to use those Gu arts—which took a toll on the body—on his beloved. Yet he couldn’t resist teasing him with words, relishing the sight of his flustered and desperate state.
Wen Jin, his breath hitched from the pinch, felt as if he were about to crumble. After his pleas went unanswered, he simply sat up straight and threw himself into Lan Yulang’s arms, retaliating by biting his lips.
Lan Yulang’s eyes filled with amusement. He tightened his embrace around the cornered little beast, turning the passive into the active as he caught the creature’s soft tongue, sucking and kissing it with tender affection.
The youth’s retaliation had somehow turned into a reward, devoured completely by Lan Yulang.
He then fell back onto the bed, letting Wen Jin lie on top of him, before he began to play with the peony tattoo hidden beneath the small of his back.
The tail of the green snake descended into the valley between his buttocks. Unless the flesh on either side was spread apart, this masterpiece would naturally remain unseen.
Lan Yulang had tattooed this piece himself. He knew exactly where the snake’s tail was hidden, and now he grasped it with precision.
“Mm…” A sharp ache shot through Wen Jin’s tailbone, and his tongue lolled out as if he had gone limp.
After he had played with the snake’s tail to his heart’s content, Lan Yulang helped him sit up, his hands supporting his waist as he commanded, “Jinjin, move closer.”
Wen Jin kept his knees apart as he scooted forward two steps, sitting on Lan Yulang’s stomach.
“Closer,” Lan Yulang said.
Wen Jin shifted again, this time settling on his chest.
Lan Yulang seemed dissatisfied, yet he said no more. Instead, he simply gripped Wen Jin’s waist and lifted him to eye level.
In an instant, a warm fragrance enveloped him, filling his nose and mouth.
Wen Jin was jolted by the sudden movement, unable to immediately process where he had been seated. By the time he regained his senses, his entire body had already gone rigid.
At this moment, Lan Yulang was even more insatiable than when he had been plucking cherries from his skin.
The sensation, soft as thin clouds, pressed against his nose and lips—gentle, delicate, and filled with a pure fragrance. Hearing the wet, sucking sounds from Lan Yulang’s lips and tongue, Wen Jin felt his breath hitch. The True Qi in his dantian seemed to surge and churn chaotically, rushing straight up to the crown of his head.
“Big Brother…” He trembled all over, nearly unable to stay seated. His palms braced against the bedpost, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his beautiful, butterfly-like shoulder blades.
He had always thought of Lan Yulang as a noble young master from a scholarly family, who should be as refined and elegant as Feng Shulou. Yet, every time they engaged in Dual Cultivation, this man always did something that left him speechless and utterly bewildered.
Wen Jin was on the verge of collapse. Tears mingled with sweat and streamed down his cheeks as he sobbed and pleaded, “Big Brother, good brother, please spare me.”
Lan Yulang ignored his cries. His palm caressed the peony tattoo with tenderness, as if he could sense the frightened little green snake trying to escape.
Suddenly, Wen Jin fell silent, his legs, braced against the side of Lan Yulang’s neck, trembling a few times.
The next instant, a warm stream poured over Lan Yulang’s head, gradually soaking into his hair.
As Wen Jin began to collapse, Lan Yulang quickly withdrew his face and caught him in his arms. Seeing Wen Jin’s eyes glazed and his limbs limp, Lan Yulang gently patted his cheek and called softly, “Jinjin?”
The scattered focus in his pupils gradually coalesced. Wen Jin looked at the culprit before him and angrily pounded his shoulder. “How could you be so wicked!”
This rebuke was no different from flirtatious banter. Lan Yulang candidly accepted his own wickedness. “Yes, it’s my fault. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Yet the expression in his eyes showed no remorse whatsoever.
As his drained strength gradually returned, Wen Jin touched his bloated belly, untangled himself from Lan Yulang’s embrace, and moved toward the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing?” Lan Yulang asked.
Wen Jin was too embarrassed to speak. He picked up his sleeping robe from the floor and was about to put it on when the man forcefully snatched it away.
“Give it back!”
“Tell me, where are you going?”
Wen Jin’s attempt to grab it back failed, and the tips of his ears turned crimson. “It’s all your fault for making the food too salty…”
He had drunk too much water tonight and now needed to relieve himself.
Lan Yulang understood with a faint smile, then carried him toward the chamber pot, tucking his arms under Wen Jin’s knees and holding him up in front of him.
Wen Jin said, “Put me down.”
Lan Yulang remained unmoved. “You may relieve yourself now.”
Wen Jin: “…”
Wen Jin immediately began to struggle. “Lan Xiangru, have you lost your mind?!”
But Lan Yulang held him with a subtle, masterful strength. No matter how Wen Jin fought, he couldn’t break free. The desperate, shameful urge to relieve himself only grew more intense.
Lan Yulang leaned in, his voice a seductive purr against Wen Jin’s ear. “Good Jinjin, let your husband see.”
Wen Jin felt as if his head might explode. He closed his eyes in resignation, his voice trembling with tears. “You can’t… you can’t bully me like this…”
The moment the words left his lips, the sound of trickling liquid echoed from the chamber pot below.
The rain fell incessantly over the Wumeng Tribe for three days, and so Lan Yulang and Wen Jin remained entwined within the Green Rock Residence for three days.
By the time the skies cleared, they had already mastered half of the martial arts contained within the Azure Nether Heart Scripture’s fragmented pages.
At noon that day, Lan Yulang retrieved the Juntian Meteoric Iron from a drawer and said to Wen Jin, “I am free today. I will accompany you down the mountain to find a sword-forging master and have this meteoric iron forged into your sword.”
At the mention of going down the mountain, Wen Jin was overjoyed. He truly did not wish to be pinned to the bed by Lan Yulang any longer, unable to rise.
If this continued, his backside would surely be ruined…
The deep mountains of the Miao Frontier in early autumn were cool and refreshing, and even the cicadas’ song had grown gentle.
As Altar Lords, they could now freely enter and leave the Holy Cult, no longer subject to anyone’s restrictions. After descending the mountain, they inquired along the way and learned of a sword-forging grandmaster in Wind-Catching Stronghold. The two rode their horses at full speed, arriving only by evening.
This sword-forging grandmaster was named Ai Meng, who was already over seventy years old and the most renowned sword-forger in the entire Wumeng Tribe.
Lan Yulang and Wen Jin tethered their horses to an elm tree east of Ai Meng’s house, then went inside together. They saw a white-haired old man hammering a glowing red piece of iron at the forging table, so they walked over and bowed behind him. “Junior Lan Xiangru, with sworn younger brother Wen Jin, pays his respects to Senior.”
Wen Jin also cupped his hands in greeting. “Greetings, Senior.”
The old man continued hammering the wrought iron, completely ignoring them.
Lan Yulang spoke again. “We have long heard that Senior is the most skilled artisan in Wumeng, a true master of the forge. Today, my brother and I have the audacity to bring a sword and Meteoric Iron from Beyond the Heavens to your doorstep, humbly requesting that you grace us with your craftsmanship.”
The old man still paid them no heed.
Wen Jin frowned and whispered to the man beside him, “Could he be deaf?”
Lan Yulang gently rebuked him. “Do not be so rude.”
Before long, a middle-aged woman, hearing the commotion in the courtyard, emerged from the inner hall. She smiled as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Young masters, where have you come from? My father-in-law is deaf and mute—he can neither hear nor speak. Please do not take offense.”
Wen Jin stared, stunned. He hadn’t expected his guess to be correct.
Hearing her speak fluent Han Chinese, Lan Yulang cupped his hands in greeting. “Forgive my presumption, Sister-in-law, but are you from the Central Plains?”
The woman smiled. “This humble woman was born in Caizhou. When I was seventeen, I fled the famine to Qianxi, where I met my husband. I have lived here with him ever since.”
Lan Yulang immediately explained their purpose. Upon hearing this, the woman walked to Ai Meng’s forge and began signing to him.
Ai Meng turned and sized up the two young men, then signed back to his daughter-in-law.
Wen Jin watched them, completely bewildered. “What are they saying?”
Lan Yulang said, “Sister-in-law, I have already informed Senior Ai Meng of what we seek. But judging by his gestures, there are still several weapons that need urgent forging. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait our turn.”
Wen Jin shot him a surprised glance. “You know sign language?”
Lan Yulang replied calmly, “Yes.”
The woman smiled. “Since you have understood my father-in-law’s words, Young Master, you must abide by his rules. We can begin forging the sword for this young gentleman in about two days.”
Lan Yulang turned to Wen Jin. “In that case, let’s head back for now and return to visit Old Senior Ai in two days.”
The woman asked, “May I ask where you two young gentlemen have come from? If your journey is long, you are welcome to stay at our humble dwelling for a couple of days.”
Wen Jin seemed quite curious about the sword-forging and was inclined to stay. Seeing his expression, Lan Yulang said, “Then we shall trouble you.” He then withdrew a silver ingot from his sleeve and handed it to the woman.
The woman repeatedly declined, but Lan Yulang explained it was for Ai Meng’s forging fee. Only then did she stop refusing, accepting the silver with a smile before going to prepare the guest room and a meal.
Lan Yulang went inside to drink tea, while Wen Jin leaned against the earthen wall in front of the forge, quietly watching Ai Meng work.
That night, as they lay in bed, Wen Jin said, “The blade Senior Ai Meng forged today was exceptionally wide, unlike any ordinary swordsman’s weapon. I wonder who it was made for.”
Lan Yulang said brightly, “Since Senior is a master craftsman, he naturally knows many people in the martial world. We should just wait quietly and avoid causing him any trouble.”
Wen Jin huffed softly. “Are you saying I’m a troublemaker?”
Lan Yulang turned on his side and pinched Wen Jin’s puffed-out cheek. “How could I think that?”
Wen Jin turned away, his back to Lan Yulang in a petulant sulk.
Lan Yulang took the opportunity to plant a kiss on the back of his neck. Wen Jin shot upright, covering his neck and reprimanding him in a low voice, “We’re at Senior’s house! Don’t be so reckless!”
Lan Yulang pulled him back into his arms, coaxing him softly, “I won’t be reckless. Let’s just sleep.”
Two days later, in the early morning, five robed figures in white arrived at Ai Meng’s home and took twenty fine iron swords.
The collars and cuffs of their robes were embroidered with a half-moon pattern, marking them as disciples of the Tianxing Sect. Lan Yulang and Wen Jin hid inside the house, watching through a crack in the door. Only after the five men had departed did they emerge into the courtyard.
Lan Yulang said, “Jinjin, stay here and forge swords with Old Senior Ai. I’ll go track those men.”
Remembering that Lan Yulang had a grudge against Mo Changling, Wen Jin did not try to stop him. Instead, he urged, “Be extremely careful.”
Lan Yulang would never tolerate traitors to the sect living in the world, but he also did not want to bring trouble to Ai Meng. Thus, he followed the five disciples for ten li before finally making his move, taking their lives with a few leaves used as hidden weapons.
Wen Jin placed the Juntian Meteoric Iron and the sword, No Envy of Immortals, reverently upon the forging table. Ai Meng took the meteoric iron, examined it, and then turned his gaze to the longsword adorned with a jade tassel. A flash of astonishment crossed his eyes.
It was rare to see any emotion on the old man’s face, and Wen Jin immediately asked, “Senior, do you recognize this sword?”
Ai Meng could neither speak nor hear. The two men stared at each other, at a loss.
Wen Jin immediately pulled over Ai Meng’s daughter-in-law, Li E, and said to her, “Sister-in-law Ai, I must trouble you to ask the Senior if he recognizes this sword.”
Li E made a few signs with her hands. Ai Meng responded instantly, and Li E then said, “My father-in-law says this sword was also forged by his own hand.”
“Impossible!” Wen Jin stammered, arguing, “This sword was a token of love my mother gave my father. They were both from the Central Plains. How could it have been forged here?”
Li E relayed his words to Ai Meng. The old man glared at Wen Jin, then frantically made a series of signs. Li E watched his gestures and explained, “Twenty years ago, a young Miao woman brought a piece of Kunlun Profound Iron and paid a heavy sum to have my father-in-law forge a rare sword for her. The characters carved on the hilt are precisely ‘No Envy of Immortals.'”
“The woman was strikingly beautiful,” Li E continued. “She had a scorpion tattooed on her wrist. It took my grandfather many days to discover she was a member of the Heaven-Seizing Cult.”
Wen Jin still refused to believe it, yet his breathing had grown ragged. “Senior, do you remember her name?”
Li E paused, then replied, “Her surname was Mu. Her given name was Zhenzhen.”
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