The tip of the brush rolled through the ink, but the moment it touched the paper, it began trembling uncontrollably. The quivering tip moved crookedly across the page, drawing a wavering horizontal stroke, then another stroke to form the character "Qi." Beside it, he added a vertical stroke, struggling to write "Mo" with pressure that kept shifting between too light and too heavy. Just as he was nearly finished, he failed to control the force of the final stroke. Ink rapidly spread, turning the entire character into a blur. The whole sheet was already covered in differently shaped but equally indistinct inkblots.
Amber eyes stared irritably at the paper, as though wishing to tear the entire sheet apart with their gaze. His ink-stained fingers involuntarily tightened, and a sharp crack followed. The fragile brush snapped in his hand.
Qi Mo froze, then looked nervously toward the couch. Lin Qingyang was reclining on it, engrossed in a book titled Complete Records of a Hundred Demons. He had reached the section on feeding and keeping wolf demons. At the noise, his handsome brows drew together, and he looked up from the book at Qi Mo.
Seeing him look over, Qi Mo's ears tilted back guiltily. "I didn't mean to."
Lin Qingyang shot him a sidelong glance, picked up a brush from the low table beside him, and tossed it over. His gaze returned to the book. "That's the last one. Break it again, and I'll pluck your fur to make a wolf-hair brush."
"Oh," Qi Mo answered miserably. He sighed helplessly and picked up the last brush.
He had thought that returning to Clear Wind Pavilion would simply mean cooking, cleaning, and waiting on Lin Qingyang every day, just as before. Who would have imagined that he would now spend most of every day sitting here taking lessons and practicing writing? Though he was not particularly rambunctious, he was still a wolf, and sitting here all day truly went against his nature. It was torment. Besides, he was used to physical labor, and now he could not seem to hold this lightweight brush steady. Several days had passed, yet he still could not write more than a few decent characters. Qi Mo stared irritably at the brush in his hand as a wicked thought suddenly surfaced. Why not break this one too? If Lin Qingyang gets angry and beats me up, maybe I won't have to study today.
Just then, Lin Qingyang's cool voice reached him. "If you don't want to practice writing, we'll study mathematics first today!"
Qi Mo closed his eyes. Remembering that pile of strange symbols he could not understand at all, he abandoned the thought he had just had and said quietly, "I want to write."
Lin Qingyang said nothing. He gently turned a page with his fingertips, glanced at the miserable wolf cub, and curled his lips. You little brat. As if I couldn't keep you in line.
The room fell quiet, with only the occasional birdcall coming through the window. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on Qi Mo's palm around the brush. At last, he managed to write the two crooked but barely legible characters of his name, "Qi Mo." He let out a small breath and looked up at Lin Qingyang.
At some point, however, Lin Qingyang had closed his eyes and begun dozing. The book had slipped from his hand and lay half across his chest as sunlight streamed through the window behind him. Lin Qingyang was not used to the elaborate clothing of ancient times, and with the weather growing warmer lately, he usually removed his outer robe in his room and wore only a white gown. His posture had pulled the neckline slightly open, revealing his clearly defined collarbones. His legs were casually crossed, his feet bare without shoes or socks, and his fair toes curled slightly. He looked like a cat napping in the sunlight, languid and carefree.
Qi Mo's breath caught. Something seemed to bump gently against his heart, leaving it a little itchy and a little hot. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the brush, and his amber eyes stared without blinking, unable to look away.
A sudden knock sounded at the door. The brush in Qi Mo's hand shook, and the name he had just finished writing blurred into another patch of ink. He felt annoyed at his own momentary distraction. Lin Qingyang was an elder, so why was he always so... Qi Mo recalled a term humans often used: indecent.
Woken by the knocking, Lin Qingyang slowly opened his eyes, then narrowed them against the somewhat dazzling sunlight.
"Master, it's me." Feng Shu's voice came from outside.
Lin Qingyang rubbed his eyes, rose from the couch, and slipped on his shoes to answer the door. Seeing this, Qi Mo got up and followed him, draping his outer robe over his shoulders.
Lin Qingyang glanced at him but still slipped his arms into the robe, inwardly wondering why the boy had suddenly become so attentive. Qi Mo lowered his head and straightened his clothes. He simply felt that Lin Qingyang should not go out to meet people like that.
Only after Lin Qingyang was dressed did Qi Mo open the door. At the sight of him, Feng Shu immediately frowned impatiently.
"What is it?" Lin Qingyang emerged from behind Qi Mo, tidying his hair as he asked.
"The three elders have asked you to come to Heavenly Strategy Hall to discuss matters," Feng Shu replied.
Lin Qingyang frowned. "With a lineup like that, it can't be anything good." Then he glanced at Qi Mo. "Keep writing. Don't slack off."
"Yes," Qi Mo replied. Noticing that Lin Qingyang's collar was a little crooked, he could not help reaching out to straighten it again.
Feng Shu rolled his eyes beside them. This wolf spent all day hanging around in Master's room whenever he had nothing to do, and he was always getting handsy. Wolf demon? He was practically a fox spirit.
Inside Heavenly Strategy Hall, Mo Yan, Xue Lanyuan, and Jin Buhuan were gathered together, discussing something with solemn expressions. Mo Yan in particular wore a deep frown and looked extremely displeased.
"Did Lin Qingyang really buy that little beast and take him home as his personal slave?" Mo Yan asked with a frown.
"He spent five thousand Spirit Stones!" Jin Buhuan held up five fingers.
"He's gone completely mad! He's an elder, and now he's the Acting Sect Leader! How will this look if word gets out? Why didn't you stop him?" Mo Yan demanded of Jin Buhuan.
"He insisted on buying him. How was I supposed to stop him?" Jin Buhuan said, waving his fan.
"Oh, please. With the way your eyes light up at money, I'd be surprised if you tried," Mo Yan scoffed.
Jin Buhuan gave a soft snort. "If my eyes didn't light up at money, what would all these people eat and drink?"
"It is strange, though. Elder Lin used to be so free of worldly desires. Why has he suddenly become so infatuated with that demon slave?" Xue Lanyuan said in puzzlement.
"That little beast must have used some underhanded trick," Mo Yan said with a cold snort.
Looking rather eager to gossip, Jin Buhuan said, "Speaking of that, I have heard that male wolf demons are born with astonishing stamina, especially extraordinary gifts in that department. Quite a few female cultivators from the Hehuan Sect like keeping wolf demons."
Xue Lanyuan looked puzzled. "Female cultivators? Then wouldn't Elder Lin be the one getting..."
"Who can say for sure what happens behind closed doors?" Jin Buhuan said, covering his mouth with his fan.
Whatever scene had come to Mo Yan's mind, an expression difficult to describe appeared on his face. "This is utterly outrageous!"
"What's outrageous?" Lin Qingyang asked as he walked in from outside.
"Nothing," all three said in unison.
At their perfectly synchronized response, Lin Qingyang narrowed his eyes at them. "You were bad-mouthing me behind my back!"
"No," all three said in unison again.
"So you were." Lin Qingyang gave a soft snort, but he could not be bothered to dwell on it. "What did you call me here for?"
The three exchanged looks before Mo Yan spoke first. "In light of the last attack, I want to strengthen security within the Nine Skies Sect."
"It does need strengthening. That barrier at the main entrance might as well not have existed," Lin Qingyang agreed, successfully making Mo Yan's expression darken further.
"I made a rough calculation. It will take twenty thousand Spirit Stones," Mo Yan said.
Lin Qingyang was somewhat puzzled. Wasn't Jin Buhuan in charge of money? Before he could ask, Xue Lanyuan spoke as well.
"Quite a few disciples were injured in the last incident. With the Immortal Alliance Ceremony approaching, we also need to prepare pills to distribute to the disciples, and Cold Moon Pavilion needs to replenish its medicinal ingredients. That will take roughly thirty thousand Spirit Stones."
"Shouldn't you be asking him for money?" Lin Qingyang pointed at Jin Buhuan.
"That's precisely what I called you here to discuss." Jin Buhuan gave a slightly embarrassed cough. "The Nine Skies Sect really has no money left in its accounts."
Lin Qingyang closed his eyes. "I knew it. Nothing good, just as I thought!"
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