In the twenty-third year of Fu Yunji's reign, it was early spring in Baimao City at the foot of Yuezhou Mountain.

There were heavy winds and heavy rain, and sudden flashes of thunder, reflecting the inky black of the dark clouds. The rain, accompanied by the damp and evil wind, crackled on the eaves, as if the sky was angry and it was terrifying. Everyone who heard it felt sympathetic.

Accompanied by the sharp and shrill sounds of the suona, everyone in the Li family mansion wept bitterly. The deceased they mourned lay quietly in the coffin for future generations to see his remains. However, the deceased had just died and there was a lot of blood, which added a bit of weird and terrifying feeling to the mourning hall.

"My uncle has dedicated his life to slaying demons and monsters, yet why has Heaven been so cruel as to take his life?"

"That's right. There are so many demonic cultivators still running rampant in the world, devouring human flesh and blood, yet they chose to take away someone as pure-minded as Li Xianchang. It's truly unfair..."

Suddenly, there was another flash of white light in the sky, illuminating the faces of all the people in the hall. A figure sneaked around the eight-immortal table with faded red paint and took a piece of fermented rice wine and pear cake from the altar.

The atmosphere suddenly became quiet, and everyone looked towards him.

The young man paused for a moment, rolled up the pear cake into his sleeve, turned away and coughed lightly.

"Who is this..." someone asked.

"This is my uncle's nephew, also a disciple of Yanshan, Shen Yimian, a disciple of the Immortal Qinghu. It was he who transported my uncle's body back to Baimao." Someone answered.

Shen Yimian stretched his waist and bowed, revealing only half of his thin, fair face. Even in the dim night, his elegant features could still be seen. He said respectfully, "Excuse me, Yimian has come here on the orders of our Master to see our Uncle off."

When he raised his face, his features were flawless, white, fragile and soft like a gardenia. His eyebrows were of moderate thickness, with a hint of arrogance and cheerfulness. Below them was a pair of slightly rounded fox eyes with pupils so black that it seemed as if they could absorb people's souls when they were slightly narrowed. A small blood-red mole lightly touched his lips, dancing with the opening and closing of his bright red lips, inexplicably attracting people's attention. This beautiful face with the right shades would be unparalleled if it were a woman, and would be unique if it were a man.

Wonderful, very wonderful.

Everyone held their breath. They had originally thought that those who practiced Taoism had outstanding looks, but they were shocked when they saw it with their own eyes.

"So he's a disciple of the Immortal Qing Hu. No wonder he's so pure and untainted!"

"Thank you, thank you." Shen Yimian clasped his fists and smiled. The piece of fermented pear cake in his sleeve slipped out and rolled to the side of his boots, breaking into pieces.

Everyone was silent for a while. Shen Yimian swallowed twice and quickly changed the subject. "I have completed what Master asked me to do. I have a mission to complete and cannot stay for long. I will leave now. I will come back on the seventh day after Master Uncle's death."

"Little Immortal, business is urgent. Go quickly."

Shen Yimian nodded gracefully, lifted her leg and stepped over the pear cake, feeling slightly distressed.

I heard it’s quite expensive, thirty cents for one yuan.

I didn’t get to eat, fuck.

Behind him, he heard the loud and sad cries of Uncle Li's family again. The coffin was about to be closed.

Shen Yimian glanced back and sighed in his heart, "Master, goodbye."

It's really unlucky for everyone.

At such an old age, he insisted on going out to collect herbs and make pills, but he ran into a group of demons. I heard that there was not even a three-hundred-round battle, and he was stabbed to death by the demons on the spot, and his anger returned to heaven.

Shen Yimian went to collect the body, and it took a lot of effort to collect it piece by piece.

Nowadays, yin is strong and yang is weak, and the demons and evil spirits are rampant. My uncle is really unlucky.

If he had stayed in the sect for three years like he did, never leaving the main gate or the secondary gate, such a thing would never have happened. As the saying goes, the weaker the ability, the smaller the responsibility. Shen Yimian has a very clear self-awareness, and not causing trouble is a big help.

But the old man lived to be 136 years old, so his life was worth it.

As he was about to reach the threshold, Shen Yimian saw a pile of his uncle's belongings outside the door. Among the pile of belongings, a gourd with a jade handle was shining brightly under the lightning and thunder. He recognized it as his uncle's gourd, which he always treasured very much.

He had repeatedly asked his uncle to let him play with it or try out what was going on, but his uncle was too stingy to give it to him.

This gourd and the medicine inside will probably be buried with my uncle, what a pity.

He had to try it.

Shen Yimian squatted down and picked up the gourd, unscrewed the jade handle, and sniffed it. An unknown fragrance, like the scent of some flowers and plants, was refreshing, and particularly sweet and pleasant.

Shen Yimian put the gourd to his lips and was about to fall down when there was another loud lightning. The whole sky was illuminated with brightness. He felt a chill on his back for no apparent reason, as if his uncle was watching him from the side.

"Just look, do you think I'm afraid of you?" He muttered a few words and picked up the gourd again. Before he could fall down, lightning and thunder followed one after another.

Damn, no way, I'm really that petty.

He usually runs errands for the old man. Is it really that serious?

Shen Yimian narrowed his eyes and poured the water in the gourd into his mouth regardless.

The spicy and burning taste hit Shen Yimian's tongue as he took a sip. He shuddered all over, and the chill rolled into his lungs, quickly turning into a heartburn. His already rosy lips were covered with a layer of watery liquid, and the clear liquid hung on his chin in a mouth-watering manner. It took him a long time to realize that what was sold in the gourd was not medicine - it was wine.

The first rule of Yanshanmen is that practitioners must abstain from the six desires, and disciples who drink alcohol will be punished with 300 strokes of the cane.

The old man is crazy. He walks around the city with a gourd every day. It seems like he is drinking openly in the sect. No wonder he dodged several times. He is probably afraid that he will find out and his reputation will be ruined.

Shen Yimian was indignant for a while, smacking his lips, and found it quite delicious.

He simply drank up the remaining wine in the gourd. It would be a waste if he didn't drink it anyway. He could just bring a pot of good wine when he visited the old man's grave on the seventh day.

After drinking his fill, he stood up and stretched. Just as he was about to step down the stairs, the stairs in front of him suddenly turned into two, then three.

The next second, Shen Yimian fell forward, and his head hit the ground with a dull sound like a ball.

Suddenly, a soft sound came to his ears, and then the sound of rain stopped abruptly, and a few strange words came into Shen Yimian's ears.

[This is so disgusting. The male protagonist and his fiancée are both first loves. If it weren't for Shen Yimian, they would have been married long ago. This wretched loser Shen Yimian has been stealing the male protagonist's luck, and he even intervened and snatched away his fiancée's innocence right in front of the male protagonist. Is the author still human? He wrote this kind of shitty plot, rnm, refund me!]

What the hell are you talking about? Who is the wretched loser? Speak clearly.

[The above just read the chapter, and the plot twists later. Loser Shen fails to steal his fiancée Qingbai, and just as he's taking off his clothes, he's caught by the male lead who comes into the room. The male lead nails the loser Shen to the bed with a sword, castrates him first, and then kills him.]

What comes first and what comes later

[Spoiler, you're sick, I can see it myself. Is it castrated cleanly?]

It's not me who's asking...

[Clean, including the melon and eggs, cleaner than a eunuch, blood splatters three feet high between the thighs. Castrate them alive and then slowly cut the flesh with a blunt knife and grind to death. Cool!]

Cool! Cool! Cool—

The word "shuang" at the end seems to have unparalleled penetrating power, with a high-pitched ending that resounds throughout the universe. The more you listen, the more it sounds like Da Zhangwei.

Shen Yimian shuddered suddenly, his eyes widened, and his back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

"Little Immortal, Little Immortal"

Shen Yimian's eyes moved slightly and saw that it was his uncle's family.

"Are you okay? Why did you suddenly faint?" the other person asked with concern.

Shen Yimian propped himself up and tried to shake his head, but his head felt more and more dizzy as he shook it. "I suddenly felt unwell, but I'm fine now." He couldn't say that he had drunk some wine and then poured it out.

All the lewd music just now seemed to have disappeared. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe he had traveled through time for too long and had been living a life of idleness and waiting to die, and he really wanted to add some grand waves to his stagnant life.

[I've only read Chapter 12, and the hero is still going through the novice tutorial. Which chapter does he join the sect in?]

A mechanical voice suddenly came out again, and Shen Yimian trembled violently and almost fell off the sandalwood chair.

It's bad, it doesn't seem to be a dream

The man hurriedly supported him with concern and said in a gentle voice, "Little Immortal, please rest for a while. I will ask someone to bring some tranquilizers."

Shen Yimian looked at his innocent expression, then looked around and found that he was still in the mourning hall. His uncle's coffin was only a foot away from him, and the incense burner on the altar was emitting smoke, which made him want to bow three times.

It was obvious that no one could hear those sounds except him.

No, this place is too evil, he has to leave.

"No need to bother, I have important matters to attend to and cannot stay long." Shen Yimian struggled to get up from the chair. With every word he spoke, he could smell the mellow aroma of alcohol escaping from his nostrils.

[Joining the sect in Chapter 16, the apprenticeship ceremony.]

The four words "apprenticeship ceremony" sounded like a thunder in my ears.

here we go again.

Shen Yimian stumbled and almost fell to the ground, but fortunately someone reached out and caught him in time.

This time, he was completely sober.

——The apprenticeship ceremony is in three days.

Shen Yimian didn't care about anything else. He said goodbye in a hurry, grabbed his sword and ran out of the Li family's gate.

Mangosteen trees shaded the path, and fresh morning rain dampened the moss on the steps. After walking a few hundred steps, I finally saw the ancient temple perched on the top of the mountain.

After returning to Zuo Lingfeng, Shen Yimian went straight to his master's bedroom without saying a word.

The jade floor tiles were polished to a shine, reflecting the sky and mountains like a mirror. Outside the hall, several servants were waiting. When they saw Shen Yimian, they bowed respectfully and used whisks to sweep away the dust on him and the others, even sweeping the soles of their shoes.

The boy pushed open the door, and Shen Yimian led Li Xiangduo in. They walked through the outer hall, lifted up their clothes, and knelt in front of the screen in the inner hall. "Master, your disciple is back."

Behind the screen, there was a slight sound of rustling fabric, followed by a lazy and comfortable male voice.

"Come in."

Shen Yimian walked around the screen and entered the inner hall.

Then I saw a snow-white lotus quilt casually spread on the large soft couch. A handsome and thin child was kneeling beside the couch, diligently peeling green grapes. After peeling them clean, he put half of it in his mouth and stretched his neck towards the person on the couch.

The man was lying naked on the couch, his skin almost transparent and white, as if illuminating the entire hall. His face was androgynous and incredibly beautiful, and his smile and demeanor were extremely alluring.

A slender, thin, white arm stretched out from under the corner of the quilt, slowly pinched the child's face and brought it close to herself, then slightly opened her lips and used the tip of her bright red tongue to roll the green grape out of the child's mouth.

At the same time, his eyes were fixed on Shen Yimian, and the man's tone was lazy and meaningful.

"Why are you coming home late?"

Shen Yimian's scalp tightened.

His master, the Immortal Qinghu, was originally named Si Wuxing. He wasn't a bad person, just a bit lustful.

Although Yan Shan abstains from the six desires, how can a person be without the six desires? What's more, there are demons like Si Wuxing among his disciples who are strong in desires. Since the sect rules do not allow him to touch women, he can only find other ways to play with men in private.

These immortal cultivators all have their own backgrounds, and are gifted with extraordinary magical powers. In Yanshan, talent is the greatest power, and the lower-level disciples are like fish on a chopping board, at the mercy of others.

But Shen Yimian is lucky. Among these people, Si Wuxing is... barely better off.

At least not voluntarily, he won't force it.

"My disciple failed to do his job well. After delivering the remains of my uncle, I suddenly became unwell, which delayed me."

He had already thought of an excuse.

Si Wuxing stood up suddenly after hearing this, the worry in his eyes was not fake, "Come here quickly, let me take a look, where do you feel uncomfortable?"

Shen Yimian reluctantly moved to the edge of the couch and half-knelt down.

"It's nothing serious, just a headache." He muttered.

Si Wuxing held his face gently, his eyes passing over the beautiful red mole on Shen Yimian's lips, the light in his pupils gradually blurred, "What do you mean it's not a big deal? Do you know how worried I was last night? What if you encountered a demon cultivator on your way back to the mountain?"

Qinliang's fingers touched the side of his face, and Shen Yimian felt his head hurt even more. "It's really okay."

"Master should have known not to send a useless little thing like you out on missions," Si Wuxing sighed deeply, his tone suddenly taking a sharp turn, with an unfathomable chill in his voice, "Wait, why do you smell like alcohol?"

Shen Yimian's scalp tightened, and he whispered, "Maybe it was contaminated by the smell of alcohol from the banquet."

Si Wuxing really didn't take it seriously.

Shen Yimian thought about the nonsense about the male protagonist, considered the words carefully, and said cautiously, "The apprenticeship ceremony will be held in three days. Master, do you plan to accept a disciple this year?"

Hearing this, Si Wuxing looked listless, clearly losing interest. "Master has already said that he will no longer accept disciples."

Shen Yimian swallowed and said, "Swear."

Si Wuxing: ""

Hearing this, Si Wuxing's face suddenly turned cold.

"You want me to swear"

Shen Yimian swallowed and said, "Yeah."

Si Wuxing sneered, leaned forward slightly, and blew a breath towards Shen Yimian, "If you want your master to promise you, you know what to do."

Shen Yimian pursed his lips, curled up his fingertips, and after a long time, nodded helplessly.

Seeing that he agreed, Si Wuxing's eyes flashed with ecstasy, and he immediately turned to the child who was still peeling grapes and said, "Get out."

The little boy quickly put on his clothes and obediently left the inner hall.

As soon as he left, Si Wuxing turned to look at Shen Yimian, raised his hand to block out the sounds from the inner hall, and licked his lips eagerly, "Come on."

Shen Yimian took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if he was going through a great psychological struggle.

Then he slowly opened his eyes, looked at Si Wuxing in front of him, pinched his chin slowly, and slapped him quickly and accurately.

There was a crisp and loud snap.

"Satisfied"

Si Wuxing was slapped down on the couch by him, his face flushed with shame, and he completely lost his relaxed demeanor.

The man lowered his tear-stained eyelashes and murmured softly, "Hmm."

"More."

——Shen Yimian’s master has a quirk, he likes to eat his lips.