Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 103

Chapter 103: Furnace

After escaping, Jiang Hanzheng was panting like a cow, his heart pounding violently, mixing excitement and fear together as if it might leap out of his throat. He nearly nodded in agreement, but his master’s casual tone made it seem like a mere joke. How could he dare to expose his true intentions by agreeing?

His heart was in turmoil because of that single question. All composure and decorum instantly collapsed, leaving him utterly flustered. Yet, amidst the chaos, he harbored a faint glimmer of hope—his master treated him so well; perhaps he wouldn’t see his feelings as something monstrous?

Indeed, He Lang’s question carried no jest; he was merely inquiring about Jiang Hanzheng’s thoughts.

Having spent days and nights together, it was impossible for him not to notice the excessive dependence his disciple had on him, as well as the passionate gaze he directed his way. All of it was seen and understood.

He Lang had experienced several worlds and was not entirely blind to the hazy emotions Jiang Hanzheng held. However, he believed that as long as Jiang Hanzheng continued to avoid the issue, it proved he had yet to solidify his resolve.

In this case, there was still a chance for him to turn back. While He Lang did not reject Jiang Hanzheng’s affections, his status as a master made it impossible for him to respond proactively.

Although same-sex Dao companions existed in the cultivation world, they were rare exceptions. Society inevitably saw minorities as outliers. Having already endured so much gossip and ridicule in his youth, He Lang naturally didn’t wish for the now-renowned Jiang Hanzheng to face such baseless accusations again.

Moreover, the balance of yin and yang in dual cultivation brought tremendous benefits. Even for Jiang Hanzheng’s personal cultivation, He Lang would prefer him to escape this budding whirlpool of emotions and find a suitable partner elsewhere.

Thus, He Lang wondered if there was still a chance to guide him back onto the proper path.

If Jiang Hanzheng knew his master’s thoughts, he would probably regret it bitterly.

Although Wuding’s suggestion to find a Dao companion for He Lang was rejected, his enthusiasm was far from extinguished. Before the matter could dissipate, he presented He Lang with dozens of furnaces.

Among these individuals, all had excellent bone structures and outstanding spiritual roots. Furnaces were typically used by cultivators to extract essence and replenish their yang energy. Yet, even knowing this, many were willing, believing that being close to a true master was a blessing. The care they might receive in return would undoubtedly be substantial.

Among them were not only female cultivators but also a few male ones. According to Wuding’s explanation, he was unsure of his senior brother’s preferences, so he prepared a variety for selection.

Though He Lang didn’t fully understand the concept, he knew that the process of essence extraction required physical intimacy. Naturally, he declined. However, as he glanced at the neatly lined-up disciples, he froze for a moment.

It wasn’t because of anything else—it was because one of them bore an uncanny resemblance to someone from his past.

Wuding’s eyes lit up, thinking his senior brother had finally found someone to his liking. He immediately pulled out the male cultivator from the group to introduce him.

“Senior brother has good taste! This young man is Huo Yiyang, my disciple, also known as one of the Five Swords of Mount Tian. He’s the most skilled among them and is perfectly suited to be your furnace! Finally, you’re willing to consider someone…” Wuding spoke animatedly, but as he noticed He Lang’s odd expression, his tone slowed.

He Lang’s thoughts were pulled back to years ago. His once-clear and steady eyes grew slightly misty, as if reminiscing about a different lifetime.

The young man before him had a tall, strong build, an energetic face, sharp eyebrows like swords, a straight nose, thin lips, and slightly upturned, expressive eyes. If he wore an arrogant and domineering expression, he would bear a striking resemblance to Zhen Puyang.

But He Lang knew very well that this was merely a coincidence—a coincidence that stirred his emotions.

Huo Yiyang, of course, noticed He Lang’s lingering gaze. Seeing his apparent interest, the previously composed young man blushed with a mix of shyness and delight. He respectfully greeted He Lang with a bow, saying, “Greetings, Master Uncle.”

He Lang nodded in response but raised his gaze to study him once more.

Wuding stood silently to the side, contemplating. He knew his disciple was handsome, but He Lang’s own disciples were equally stunning. There had to be another reason for his reaction.

He Lang squinted and lowered his gaze, realizing he was indeed affected by Huo Yiyang’s resemblance to Zhen Puyang.

Across worlds, he no longer knew how many years had passed—ten, twenty, or thirty? Yet, amid these long years, he rarely thought of old acquaintances. New faces and events filled his life, leaving no room for sentimental musings.

But now, confronted with familiar features, memories surged like waves crashing ashore, a flood of emotions washing over him. It felt like a vivid dream.

Staring at the young man, his usually clear mind felt unusually hazy. In his mind’s eye, the figure of a man in imperial robes appeared—head held high, looking down on everyone else. Occasionally bossy and demanding, the next moment, he would run up to him, mumbling naive words like a boy.

Their ending left an indelible mark in He Lang’s memory.

On their wedding night, dressed in crimson, Zhen Puyang seemed possessed, setting the bedroom ablaze and screaming to join He Lang in the afterlife, dying for love.

But he likely didn’t realize that He Lang was merely a wandering soul, unaffected by life and death, incapable of reuniting with him in the underworld. He had been reborn, but Zhen Puyang had truly perished.

Thinking of the insecure man searching in vain for him in the afterlife, He Lang felt a heaviness in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Wuding and Huo Yiyang, softly saying, “Then let it be him.”

“Alright!” Wuding responded enthusiastically, immediately turning to instruct Huo Yiyang.

“You’re lucky to catch Master Uncle’s eye. Do you know that? Your Master Uncle hasn’t been close to anyone in centuries, except for his new disciple… Look at Jiang Hanzheng—he’s soaring to success now. You should know how capable your Master Uncle is. Serve him well. Though you’ll lose some vitality, being close to him is more than worth it. Understand?”

Huo Yiyang repeatedly nodded, lowering his gaze obediently, appearing docile and respectful.

He Lang frowned but said nothing. This trait of Huo Yiyang’s was entirely unlike Zhen Puyang, who would never submit to anyone.

The more He Lang interacted with Huo Yiyang, the more he realized how different they were, making their interactions increasingly awkward.

Unaware of the underlying reason, Huo Yiyang thought being chosen meant He Lang approved of him. Emboldened, he initiated polite conversation, trying to connect.

However, the more he spoke, the colder He Lang’s expression became. Alarmed, Huo Yiyang reviewed his words, confident he hadn’t made any mistakes with his proper and courteous demeanor.

What he didn’t realize was that his polished demeanor was the very reason He Lang felt discomfort. The contrast between him and Zhen Puyang highlighted his impulsive decision, leading He Lang to regret it.

He immediately sent Huo Yiyang away.

Huo Yiyang hesitated, unwilling to leave, and asked, “Did I offend you, Master Uncle?”

He Lang shook his head. “You’re fine.”

Relieved, Huo Yiyang smiled. “If that’s the case, why not me?”

Thinking He Lang was simply inexperienced in such matters, Huo Yiyang boldly stepped forward, gently removing He Lang’s outer robe while observing his reaction.

For a fleeting moment, He Lang saw a glimmer of Zhen Puyang’s essence in Huo Yiyang’s eyes, and he stared for a long while without rejecting him, unintentionally encouraging him.

As Huo Yiyang’s breathing grew heavier, he began to undress himself. He Lang quickly snapped out of his daze, pulled away, and stopped him.

Outside the room, the window was partially open. A sudden surge of oppressive energy disrupted the atmosphere, as if someone had witnessed everything within.

The once-clear sky turned gray with ominous clouds. He Lang’s eyelid twitched. Glancing outside, he caught a glimpse of a figure’s hem but couldn’t be certain.

He pushed Huo Yiyang aside and stepped toward the window, but there was nothing.

If someone had been there, He Lang would have detected them unless their cultivation surpassed his own.

The interruption extinguished He Lang’s interest entirely. Though Huo Yiyang tried to speak, He Lang remained unmoved. However, considering Huo Yiyang’s good intentions, he gently helped him redress to avoid embarrassing him. Begrudgingly, Huo Yiyang left.

Author’s note: I dislike when the seme uses love as an excuse to find substitutes for the uke when they’re apart. If a substitute suffices, why bother with the original? It’s just an excuse to indulge in desires. Thankfully, He Lang has principles!

By the way, do you remember who “Yang’er” is?【.】