Cultivation Retirement Plan (BL)

47. Counterstrike

Before Nan Wuyue could decide on what to do, a soft light emitted from Mo Yixuan's hand. He looked down and saw a white jade ring glowing faintly on his master's right index finger. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed it—Mo Yixuan had flashed the accessory plenty of times during training sessions or solo swordplay—but this was the only time it was showing any abnormalities.

Nan Wuyue was surprised. Obviously this wasn't an ordinary ring, but he hadn't sensed anything unusual from it. Neither did he remember this item from Mo Yixuan's usual arsenal of weapons and treasures. Maybe his current shizun dug it up from the original Mo Yixuan's stores?

The ring only glowed for a few moments. By the time Nan Wuyue sorted out his thoughts, it had faded back to its usual jade luster, clean and ordinary. However, Mo Yixuan breathed easier than before and was much cooler to the touch. Nan Wuyue exhaled in relief as he wasn't sure how he'd help his master otherwise.

"Shizun, I'll get us out of here," he murmured. So hurry and wake up soon.

Then he turned and sped off in the direction of the illusion anchor he'd sensed earlier.

—

Mo Yixuan had been single once until he made the mistake of falling for his co-worker. It seemed harmless enough, especially when the other even admitted liking him back. It wasn't until his car flew over the cliff that Mo Yixuan realized what Shangguan Yin liked wasn't so much himself as the pleasure he derived from building him up and tearing him down. He was like a little boy let loose with a box of blocks, stacking up beautiful castles and bridges all for the joy of kicking them to pieces beneath his shoe.

Shangguan Yin was lying on the carpet, his glasses askew and sporting a split lip as he bared his teeth in a bloody grin. Mo Yixuan sat on top of him, hands wrapped firmly around his throat. Hundreds of peonies had torn themselves off the wall to encase them both, reducing the hallway to a small, isolated clearing. There were no other sounds; the dark space held only enough room to amplify the volume of Mo Yixuan's heavy breaths and Shangguan Yin's scattered, hoarse voice.

"Hurry...up..." Shangguan Yin rasped at him, his eyes mocking. Weren't you going to kill me?

"Shut up," Mo Yixuan snarled back, his fingers tightening reflexively. The peonies rustled and crowded closer at the motion like eager spectators at a show.

Shangguan Yin made a wheezing, gurgling sound that might have been a laugh. "W...e...ak..."

Mo Yixuan's hands twitched. His head was swimming too, drowning in a heavy fog of emotions that seemed to burn him red hot. When Shangguan Yin's face distorted into a sneer at his hesitation, Mo Yixuan's last rational thought went flying out the window.

His fingers closed completely around Shangguan Yin's throat, ignoring the man's spasms as he gasped for air that wouldn't come. More peonies stirred around him at the action, their petals unfurling into celebratory blooms like rounds of miniature fireworks. Their perfume was sweet but weighed on his senses, making his limbs feel curiously sluggish.

When the body beneath him finally stopped moving, Mo Yixuan fell back with a lurch. A cold thrill ran through his heart as the world shifted again—

Ba-dum.

"Pleased to meet you," Shangguan Yin said on a sunny afternoon as he extended his arm for a handshake.

Mo Yixuan noticed the bruises on his neck and accepted the hand with a grim smile. The next second he twisted the man's wrist, breaking the bones with a clean snap. Cultivator strength was no joke. Shangguan Yin's face distorted in pain, but it wasn't until Mo Yixuan ripped his arm out of his socket that those ink-gray irises contracted in shock. Good. It was about time he got what he deserv—