CHAPTER 342
Punishment? Or Reward?
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Ye Qinghan had heard rumors about her master's previous outburst, where he'd smashed quite a few things. This time, however, it didn't seem quite so extreme.
Still, the Master's method of punishment was truly terrifying!
A full hour and a half of kneeling punishment!
It was enough to scare the living daylights out of this timid fox~ Hehe~
【No, no, Su Cheng, what the hell are you thinking?】
【This Ye Qinghan is incorrigible, always acting spoiled and arrogant. This time, she must be dealt with severely!】
Ye Qinghan's lips curved slightly, a hint of satisfaction already stirring within her heart~
Teach her a lesson?
How exactly?
All four of Ye Qinghan's ears perked up, her tail wagging back and forth. A faint smile played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were utterly terrified~
Ye Qinghan thought to herself: Spanking again?
【Shiyao needs a good lesson too. How dare she play dumb with me, pretend to be deaf and dumb, pretend…】
【Anyway, she needs a good lesson!】
【Jue'er too—she usually seems so well-behaved, but why does she disobey at the most crucial moments?】
【In short, they must learn their lesson. This sort of thing absolutely cannot happen again!】
Ye Qinghan had heard enough to grasp the gist!
Master was furious because they hadn't obeyed and left quietly!
But if we're talking about… well, she definitely took the lion's share of the blame. Ugh, she was the one who angered the Master the most.
She nearly died and only survived thanks to Shiyu's immortal pill!
Just imagine the trauma that must have inflicted on her Master's tender young heart!
Even so, Ye Qinghan still didn't know what to do.
But abandoning the Master to save herself? Impossible. She couldn't do it.
Without the Master, what meaning would escape hold?
Moreover, if things unfolded as her master feared—as if the world were counting down to its end—Ye Qinghan truly couldn't imagine anyone else protecting her if her master were gone.
So, wasn't death inevitable either way?
Rather than sitting idly by waiting for death, why not try to cling to her master as her last hope?
This was the sole, final glimmer of hope Ye Qinghan could see.
Su Cheng soaked for a long time, taking his time to sort through his thoughts.
This was an undeserved calamity for his disciples; it had nothing to do with them.
His debts were not something these children should bear alongside him.
Moreover, his path was one destined to be walked alone.
He had betrayed too many expectations. Those who had placed their faith in him had viewed him as a savior, a god.
But ironically, the power he wielded bore the name of the World-Destroying Blade, Zero Two.
His favored concubine, who died for him, had her head severed and displayed upon the city walls.
His confidant, for his sake, was condemned to a living death—trapped in endless, sunless darkness, enduring endless torment.
His closest kin bore the shame for him, reduced to slaves worse than dogs, enduring humiliation for sixty long years without ever seeing him again…
Su Cheng wished to remember each person's name, even as time had lost all meaning for him.
Stepping out of the pool, he scooped up the sacred liquid and slapped it onto his face, as if trying to jolt himself awake.
Even today, Su Cheng still saw no glimmer of hope for victory.
"Even if it's just a sliver… give me a shred of hope…"
In the last war, Su Cheng had staked every living soul in the world on the gambling table.
Seated across from him was an opponent who could see through his hand—a deity capable of glimpsing the future, even rewriting it.
He had no choice but to sit across from the deity at the table as the savior, awaiting the outcome.
Though drenched in sweat, though trembling uncontrollably, he could not, dared not, absolutely must not show weakness.
Yet many things could not withstand close scrutiny.
How could a deity who could see the future fail to foresee its own demise?
Though the lost chips were irretrievable, Su Cheng's self-reproach was understandable.
Yet often, Su Cheng still pondered: What did that long sigh from the deity truly signify?
Was it resignation to an inevitable fate, or helplessness in the face of failure?
But Su Cheng understood one thing clearly: she, he, they—all of them were truly, undeniably dead.
【And besides, that god who could see the future never once looked at him.】
Su Cheng had once shared this thought with Xiao Ai, but her response was even more intriguing.
【Xiao Ai has always been watching over the Master.】
Su Cheng desperately wanted to shout it out loud: He wasn't some savior—just a fool tricked into this mess over two hundred bucks!
But sometimes, there simply was no other choice.
Su Cheng had once rejoiced in the system's blessings, allowing him to look down on humanity with pride, to command mountains and rivers with a stomp, sending hearts into panic.
But now, he felt like a lab rat caged in a glass box. His so-called life was nothing more than a meticulously orchestrated game governed by rules.
Clear the level, and a new house awaits.
Fail to clear it, and he would die within the glass cage—a loser, an unqualified… test subject.
Though Su Cheng hadn't yet devised a solution, he sensed a possibility: if he could break free from the system's constraints, master the rules, or even transcend them…
He wanted to give those people a second chance at life, so they wouldn't have to encounter that scum named Su Cheng again.
Su Cheng exhaled deeply, eyeing the long robe laid out on the changing room stool for him to change into. That incense scent—most likely Qinghan had been here.
Now that he had cultivated some skill, there was really no need to trouble the First Disciple with something like washing clothes.
Su Cheng had intended to mention it several times, but whenever he emerged from the Spirit Pool Hall, his worn robes would mysteriously vanish as if they had legs, replaced by freshly laundered ones.
By the time Su Cheng met Ye Qinghan, he’d forgotten about it entirely—that guy always managed to interrupt him.
Shaking his head, Su Cheng donned his robe and stepped outside, where he immediately encountered a familiar figure.
"Good evening, Master Su."
It wasn't too late yet, and even at night, Lingxian Hall wasn't pitch-black.
It was a young girl. Compared to their first meeting, she appeared much cleaner now, dressed in fresh garments. Her small face was fair and unblemished, giving off the impression of a sweet, innocent maid attending to a spoiled princess.
Like a budding flower, she held promise; like a mountain shrouded in morning mist, her beauty was gentle and unobtrusive, harmonious and refined.
It was Miaomiao. As the saying goes, clothes make the man, and Miaomiao was already a beauty in the making—though still very much a work in progress.
【Has she not left yet? Is there something she needs from me?】
【If it's her, helping out wouldn't be a problem…】
【The book she's holding really is a medical text, but why would she be interested in something like this…】
Miaomiao listened as Su Cheng brainstormed ideas. To be honest, she was a bit baffled too…
What did he mean by "if it's her, helping out wouldn't be a big deal"?
So does that mean she's special to Master Su?
Has Master Su taken a liking to her? That shouldn't be possible. Logically speaking, Master Su's disciples are all so beautiful they make one want to commit crimes. How could he possibly fancy a village girl like her?
"Hmm, how are you feeling?"
Miaomiao bowed slowly: "Much better now, thank you for saving me, Master Su. Otherwise, I might have died on the mountain."
"It's nothing. But Miaomiao, what is that you're holding?"
Miaomiao: Don't you already know it's a medical text? Why ask me?
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