My Yandere Disciple Wants to Kill Me - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“…”

Yes.

There was no conflict.

I looked at him and said slowly, “So, do you still remember that you came here to kill me?”

Yun Rong’s hand paused as he poured the wine, the jade-colored liquid spilling over the rim of the cup.

He lowered his hand. “When did Master find out?”

I shook my head. “You never really hid it.”

Not since the day he entered the mountains to become my disciple.

He hadn’t even bothered to hide his name.

Which of the deities from the old era didn’t emerge by treading over the mountain of their kin’s corpses and bathing in a sea of their enemies’ blood? I had participated in countless divine wars, large and small; I had long since lost track of how many Divine Race descendants considered me their enemy.

That was why I had asked Qi Zhi to look into it.

Unsurprisingly, Yun Rong was a descendant of the Jin Yun Official branch of the Di Hong Clan.

Yun Rong lowered his gaze for a moment, then offered the wine cup with both hands, meeting my eyes with a smile.

“In that case, do you still dare to drink this cup of wine?”

Why wouldn’t I?

I took the cup, drained it, refilled it, and handed it back to him.

Nothing changed. Just like countless times in the past, I drank with him, cup after cup.

When my disciple was younger, I used to forbid him from touching alcohol.

But after his capping ceremony, he had become my most loyal drinking companion.

By the time the wind and snow had subsided slightly and the sky was full of stars, I pulled my disciple down the mountain.

After a few steps, I felt something poking my feet.

Just as I was about to look down, the world spun, and I tumbled into an embrace.

Yun Rong steadied me and asked, “Master, where are your shoes?”

Shoes? Who knew? What were those?

Then the world spun again.

This time, I was swept up and carried in someone’s arms.

Yun Rong leaned close to my ear and asked, “Master, may I take you back?”

Outside, the ground was frozen and the air was biting. My heart felt like an ice cellar, yet my body was like a furnace, growing hotter and hotter.

I vaguely realized I had been drugged.

The moment we returned to Mist Flower Hall, I struggled to grab Yun Rong’s hand, gesturing for him to fetch my silver needles.

He didn’t let go. His gaze was burning as he looked at me, his soft breath like a magic spell. “Master, you don’t need your needles. I have a way to neutralize your poison. Do you want to try?”

His words were a polite inquiry, but his actions were already in motion.

A cold, sharp object pressed against my lower back, moving slowly upward until it stopped at a specific point.

If I were sober, I would have known that was my life-gate acupoint.

It was the most dangerous of omens.

But I wasn’t sober.

I reasoned that my disciple also had needles, and since his medical skills were personally taught by me-with the student even showing signs of surpassing the teacher-I should properly trust and encourage the younger generation.

So I nodded, leaning into him of my own accord, closing my eyes as I panted softly.

“Hurry up…”

The body pressed against mine suddenly stiffened.

The cold sensation on my back vanished, replaced by a hand that was warm-even scalding.

…

I couldn’t remember much of what happened after that.

It seemed I was carried to the bed; the curtains rose and fell, and the tassels swayed.

In my daze, I saw a face that was both familiar and strange.

Familiar from the days and nights we spent together; strange because of the hundred years of life and death that separated us.

I murmured Wan Li’s name, and that face would lean down, sealing my voice with a kiss that was fervent, even somewhat rough.

…

When I woke up, the side of the bed was empty.

I looked at my body expressionlessly. My sleeping robes were neat and tidy, without a single thread out of place.

But they had clearly been changed.

And there were certain marks that couldn’t be hidden just by changing clothes.