Chapter Seventy-Three: Do Not Expel Me from the Sect

Zilian’s face remained composed and leisurely as he spoke slowly: “Though I have never known the ways of the world, I can at least attest that I remain pure as ice and spotless as jade.”

Ahem, pure as ice and spotless as jade—hearing these four words uttered from a man for the first time, I must admit it was rather disconcerting.

“Your husband, for all his millennia of years, has never managed to maintain such chastity as I. Tell me, madam, will you be the demon king’s first, or perhaps the tenth, or even the hundredth woman?”

I stood aside, watching as Li Ruoshui and the demon king’s complexions shifted from red to white and then to ashen. My heart shivered again and again. I had never truly grasped how sharp Zilian’s tongue could be, and I could only hope he would never turn such verbal prowess against me, a little carp who could barely string a sentence together.

“You—”

Moments earlier, Li Ruoshui had looked calm and collected, but now she was so angered she could hardly restrain herself.

The demon king reached out to hold her back, his expression gentle as he smiled at her. “There, there. Immortal Zilian has always spoken thusly—do not take his words to heart, Ruoruo.”

“But…” Li Ruoshui looked at the demon king, her face full of distress, clearly feeling wronged on her husband’s behalf.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,”

The demon king, magnanimous as ever, patted her shoulder gently with a smile.

Watching his wife on the verge of tears, the demon king’s face displayed both helplessness and amusement, his tone soft as he asked, “Is lunch ready yet?”

“Yes!”

The person in his arms nodded tearfully.

Watching from the side, I was unexpectedly moved, my eyes growing warm as well. But Zilian seemed not to notice at all, releasing my hand and sitting down to sip his tea again.

“Master,”

I couldn’t help but call out to him at that moment.

“Hmm?” He set down his teacup and looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“Master, weren’t your words just now a little too much? You made her cry.”

Even knowing this might displease him, I felt it my duty, for the sake of my master’s reputation in others’ eyes, to occasionally remind Zilian kindly.

“Little Fish,”

A sudden sadness colored his face as he looked at me. “Disciple, do you think your master’s words were too harsh? Do you think your master is a bad person?”

“No, not at all. I don’t think you’re a bad person, Master.”

I waved my hands in protest. “In my eyes, Master is the best person in the world, the finest immortal.” I finished, raising my little fists before him with conviction.

A look of joy and satisfaction appeared on his face as he nodded. “Good disciple. I do not regret taking you as my pupil. Only my good disciple understands my intentions.”

With that, he came over and placed a hand on my head, gently stroking it, as if I were a little puppy.

“Master, did you ever regret taking me as your disciple?”

I pouted, sniffing hard, and looked up at him with tearful eyes, brimming with grievance. “Did you ever want to abandon me, Master? To leave me behind?”

He frowned at that. “How could I? Why would I ever abandon you?”

Taking my hand, he smiled. “You are my only disciple—you cook, make my bed, fetch water, guard the door. I am very content with you, my little fish. Why would I ever want to cast you out?”

“But didn’t you just say you don’t regret taking me as your disciple now? Doesn’t that mean you once regretted it? That you once thought about abandoning me?”

“This, this…”

He was at a loss for words, stammering for a while, a hint of irritation crossing his face. “Why do you always question what I say? Do you wish I’d cast you out?”