Untamed Feeling ( wangxian )

chapter Fifty eight🫰

A short distance away from the room, Jin Guangyao quietly drew out his flute. Raising it to his lips, he began to play a soft, haunting melody that drifted through the silent night.

As the notes carried through the air and reached the ears of the guarding disciples of the Gusu Lan Sect, they suddenly paused, their movements faltering for a brief moment as the unfamiliar music caught their attention.

In an instant, the guards felt their bodies grow unnaturally light, as if the strength had been drained from their very cores. Their spiritual energy faltered—then stilled—leaving them momentarily defenseless beneath the lingering notes of Jin Guangyao’s flute.

Seizing the opportunity, Jin Guangshan— his face was concealed, stepped forward and struck. His ears were tightly covered, shielding himself from the melody’s effects as he moved with ruthless precision.

The disciples struggled to retaliate, their training evident in every movement—but with their spiritual power suppressed, their efforts fell short. One by one, they were overpowered, unable to withstand Jin Guangshan’s relentless assault.

At that moment, Jin Guangyao slipped into the room. His movements were swift and silent, his gaze immediately locking onto the object they had come for. Without hesitation, he seized the book.

The moment it was in his hands, both men withdrew without delay.

Behind them, one injured disciple, barely conscious, forced himself to move. Gathering the last remnants of his strength, he staggered away to raise the alarm.

Within minutes, the once-silent Cloud Recesses stirred awake. Cultivators rushed to the scene, confusion and disbelief evident on every face.

With trembling hands, the wounded disciple pointed in the direction the intruders had fled.

Meanwhile, near the outer edges of Cloud Recesses, where the sound of a distant waterfall masked even the faintest movement, Jin Guangyao came to an abrupt halt.

Before escaping, he needed certainty.

His gaze lowered to the book in his hands. For a brief moment, he simply stared at it, his thoughts racing. If this was not the original—if the Gusu Lan Sect had anticipated such a move—then everything would be for nothing.

He could not afford that risk.

Without further hesitation, he tried to open it.

It did not budge.

A faint crease formed between his brows. Drawing upon his spiritual energy, he attempted again—this time with force, channeling power into his hands.

Still, the book remained sealed.

In that instant, a memory surfaced—words spoken at the very beginning of their journey by Lan Sizhui.

This book requires spiritual energy…

—but not just anyone’s.

Realization struck like a blade.

His face drained of color as the truth settled in—this was no ordinary restriction. The book would only open for Lan Wangji… or Wei Wuxian.

For a fleeting moment, his composure cracked. His hands trembled, anger and disbelief surging beneath the surface.

Beside him, Jin Guangshan snatched the book impatiently. He tried to open it himself—once, twice—but met the same result.

Frustration overtook him. With a curse, he threw the book to the ground and struck it with his foot before picking it up again, attempting once more with growing agitation.