"I see." A gleam of understanding flashed through Wu Fei's eyes, but he still had some questions. "There is something I would like to ask you, Fellow Daoist Lu..."
"Have you heard of the Buddha Spirit Sect, Fellow Daoist Lu?"
Beside him, Yin Fan raised an eyebrow at this and sipped his tea, listening to Wu Fei converse with them.
"The Buddha Spirit Sect?" Lu Feiyuan shook his head. "I have never heard of it."
Wu Fei's brow shifted slightly. Had he guessed wrong?
But then Lu Feiyuan added, "However, I remember that I was once a Buddhist cultivator as well. I later changed my cultivation method for certain reasons."
That was why he had specifically asked whether Wu Fei was a Buddhist cultivator.
Hearing this, Wu Fei had a rough idea of where things stood. He smiled faintly. "Thank you for clearing up my doubts, Fellow Daoist Lu."
There was no distinction between day and night in the Flame Spirit Realm, but this space was different. Night gradually crept in, and neither Lu Feiyuan nor Yun Huai knew how to leave this place. Wu Fei and Yin Fan decided to stay the night.
There were two unoccupied bamboo cottages, and Yun Huai was just about to tidy them up.
Yin Fan lazily draped a hand over Wu Fei's shoulder. "I'll share with my senior brother."
At this, Wu Fei gave him a look that was almost a smile and said, "Sorry for the trouble, Fellow Daoist Yun. One room will do for my junior brother and me."
Yun Huai showed no surprise. She smiled gently. "You two share a very deep bond."
Hearing this, a hint of pleasure rose in Yin Fan's eyes, while Wu Fei inwardly paused, vaguely feeling that she had seen through something...
Late that night, Wu Fei sat upright on the bed, cultivating with his eyes closed, but a gaze with an extremely strong presence remained fixed on him.
His hand stopped turning his prayer beads. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Yin Fan opposite him, who had an arm resting on one knee and his other leg folded beneath him.
"Is there something you wish to say, Demon Venerable?"
Seeing that he had finally caught his attention, Yin Fan's lips curved slightly. "You understand me best, Buddha's Son."
Of course. Wu Fei turned the prayer beads in his hand, thinking that apart from the protagonist himself, no one understood Yin Fan better than he did.
Wu Fei raised a hand and set up a barrier. "What is it?"
"What do you think of that pair of dao companions, Buddha's Son?" Yin Fan answered with a question.
After a moment's thought, Wu Fei said, "They are somewhat suspicious, but they bear no ill will."
Moreover, he had even sensed an inexplicable goodwill from Lu Feiyuan and Yun Huai, along with a trace of familiarity whose source he could not place...
Yet it was precisely this familiarity that made Wu Fei suspicious.
At this, Yin Fan's gaze flickered. "For some reason, whenever I see those two dao companions, I think of the mysterious space beneath the ancestral hall in Clear Heart Village..."
Wu Fei's mind stirred. Put that way, the two places did indeed share similarities. Both were mysterious spaces that existed independently, and... both were connected to Buddhist cultivators.
The truth seemed close at hand, yet layers of mist lay between them, leaving it elusive.
Seeing the slight change in his expression, Yin Fan asked, "Do you feel the same, Buddha's Son?"
"Perhaps it is connected to my Buddha Spirit Sect." Wu Fei's expression grew slightly solemn. "A thousand years ago, although the Buddha Spirit Sect was not considered a major sect in the cultivation world, it was still well known. Yet that husband and wife remember the other sects that existed a thousand years ago and have forgotten only the Buddha Spirit Sect..."
"Moreover, Fellow Daoist Lu knows our Buddha Spirit Sect's tea-brewing technique. Someone must have deliberately erased his memories concerning the Buddha Spirit Sect."
He speculated, "Fellow Daoist Lu is very likely a senior of our Buddha Spirit Sect."
"Not just him." Yin Fan's gaze was deep. "I suspect that the person chanting sutras beneath the ancestral hall is also a senior of yours, Buddha's Son..."
Wu Fei also recalled the sound of sutra chanting that had saved him, and a dark glint flashed through his eyes.
Then he steadied himself, temporarily burying his many conjectures deep within his heart, and looked at Yin Fan. "There is no use overthinking it. Let us rest tonight and continue looking for a way out tomorrow."
Yin Fan nodded.
Just before closing his eyes, Wu Fei languidly lifted his eyelids and glanced at Yin Fan. "Please stop staring at me, Demon Venerable."
Yin Fan had thought Wu Fei did not mind. At these words, his lips curved slightly, his voice carrying a hint of seduction. "If you mind, Buddha's Son, you can stare back..."
"I wouldn't mind in the slightest."
As his words fell, the bamboo cottage sank into silence. Yin Fan continued watching Wu Fei at his leisure.
A moment later, the white-robed Buddha's Son, who had been sitting upright, suddenly rose.
Before Yin Fan could react, his vision suddenly darkened, and the smile froze on his lips.
Wu Fei covered his eyes with a strip of red silk he had taken from the bed curtains. His eyes were deep, but his movements were gentle as he tied the silk.
Beneath the soft glow of the moonstone, the red silk ribbon lent the Demon Venerable's face a striking beauty.
"I had no other choice. Please forgive me, Demon Venerable." Wu Fei's slightly lowered voice seemed to contain a trace of something indefinable. He admired his handiwork, satisfaction rising in his eyes.
Yin Fan was briefly taken aback at first, then waited unhurriedly for Wu Fei to finish. Through the layer of red silk, he could see only his blurred silhouette. The smile returned to his lips. "So this is what you like, Buddha's Son..."
Wu Fei narrowed his eyes at this, looking down at the protagonist whose eyes were bound with red silk. His gaze held a hint of aggression, but his tone remained calm. "You jest, Demon Venerable. I simply had no other choice."
Yin Fan raised a hand to touch the red silk and asked with an arched eyebrow, "Do you intend to keep my eyes bound like this all night, Buddha's Son?"
Wu Fei smiled faintly. "If you can keep your eyes in check, Demon Venerable, you may take it off at any time."
Yet Yin Fan did not take it off all night. Even through the layer of red silk, his gaze remained on Wu Fei.
Only when the first faint light of dawn appeared did Wu Fei open his eyes and discover that the protagonist had fallen asleep at some point, his forehead propped on his hand.
The red silk ribbon tied the night before had long since loosened on its own. One corner was pinned beneath the hand Yin Fan used to support his forehead, while the other end hung quietly down, covering half his cheek.
A thought stirred in Wu Fei's mind. With a turn of his hand, an image-recording stone appeared in his palm. He activated it with spiritual energy, recording everything nearby within it, naturally including the young Demon Venerable's sleeping face.
After watching quietly for a moment, Wu Fei silently rose and left the bamboo cottage.