36: Put it on

When Jiang Xun woke up, it was already broad daylight.

Light cut diagonally through the half-open window lattice, laying out a long, narrow patch of light on the floor.

Fine dust floated slowly in the beam of light, like countless tiny stars.

He opened his eyes, staring at the plain gauze curtains above him for a long time before his consciousness slowly returned.

The room was empty.

Yan Qingning was not there either.

He suddenly sat up from the bed; the movement was too abrupt, and his vision went black for a moment.

After recovering, he looked down to check his clothes.

They were somewhat messy, with his lapel open and his belt loose, but other than that, everything was intact.

There was nothing unusual about his body, except for his lips being slightly swollen and his throat feeling dry.

He let out a long sigh of relief.

Fortunately.

If Yan Qingning had truly disregarded everything last night, with her Dongxu Realm cultivation, his Qi Refinement Stage body probably wouldn't have lasted half a quarter of an hour.

Faint sounds came from outside the window.

It was the low thrum of drums, followed by a long horn blast, piercing through the clouds with a certain ancient solemnity.

Then, there were countless sounds of breaking air, rustling and dense, coming from far to near.

Jiang Xun walked to the window and looked out.

The sky was occupied by several massive ships.

The hulls were pitch black, carved with the cloud patterns of the Xuanxiao Immortal Sect, and the Spiritual Sails unfurled on both sides blotted out the sun.

Countless streaks of light shuttled between the ships; they were Disciples flying on swords, their white clothes like snow and sword light like stars, merging into a flowing river of light.

The lively scene made Jiang Xun feel a sense of longing.

The trial was over.

And these ships were there to pick up the Disciples from the trial and bring them back to the sect.

Watching this, an indescribable emotion suddenly surged in Jiang Xun's heart.

If everything were normal, he should be with Jiang Wanxing right now, heading towards the Xuanxiao Immortal Sect with trepidation and anticipation.

Then, during some outing, he would completely break away from this place.

From then on, the sky would be high for the bird to fly, and the sea wide for the fish to leap.

He would begin a cultivation career of his own.

Instead of... He turned around and walked toward the wooden door of the room.

The moment his hand touched the door leaf, an invisible force bounced back from the door; he added a bit more strength, but the door didn't budge.

He used more force, and that power increased accordingly, like a soft wall, silently neutralizing all his strength.

As expected.

He withdrew his hand and gave a bitter smile.

Trapped.

I'm afraid that even if he really wanted to leave last night, he probably wouldn't have been able to get out of this door.

Moreover, given Yan Qingning's state at the time, running away would have only provoked her further.

Jiang Xun looked up, seemingly helpless.

Suddenly, an itch came from his neck.

It was very subtle, like a feather lightly scratching.

Jiang Xun subconsciously raised his hand to touch it, and his fingertips felt an extremely soft, thin fabric, clinging to his skin, cool and smooth.

He froze for a moment and walked to the bronze mirror in the corner of the room.

The mirror surface was a bit blurry, reflecting the figure of a youth with messy hair, disheveled clothes, and a pale face.

And on his neck, a black silk ribbon was clearly wrapped.

It was very thin, about a finger wide, pure black, without any ornamentation.

It clung to the lines of his neck, neither loose nor tight, like an elegant shadow, or like... a collar?

Jiang Xun refused to use that word.

He preferred to call it a "Neck Ring."

He reached out to pull it.

It didn't move.

He applied more force, but it still didn't move.

That black ribbon seemed to have grown onto his skin; it felt soft but was incredibly tough.

He switched to using his nails to pick at it, tugging at it, and even tried to circulate his spiritual energy to impact it.

On the surface of the Neck Ring, a layer of extremely faint silver runes suddenly emerged.

The runes flashed and vanished, but Jiang Xun saw them clearly; they looked like some kind of ancient Binding Incantation, its complexity far exceeding his understanding.

And the moment the runes appeared, the Neck Ring tightened slightly.

It wasn't painful, but it carried a clear warning.

Jiang Xun stopped his movements and stared at himself in the mirror for a long time.

He had a feeling that even if this thing were tied to a Soul Transformation Stage Cultivator, they would be helpless against it.

Just how afraid was Yan Qingning that he would run?

Not only did she set up a barrier in the room, but she also had to put such a thing around his neck.

Jiang Xun walked back to the bedside and sat down.

He tried to comfort himself; at least he wasn't tied up all over, at least he could still move, at least... he completely couldn't escape now.

He closed his eyes and circulated his Cultivation Technique.

The consecutive Breakthroughs last night had left his Foundation unstable, and he was severely depleted.

The "Sin Sea Manifesting Demon Art" slowly circulated within his body, and a familiar warmth rose from his Dantian.

Strands of blood-colored mist seeped from his pores, forming an extremely faint red glow on the surface of his skin.

But just as the blood mist was an inch away from leaving his body.

The Neck Ring lit up.

It wasn't the faint light of the runes from before, but a pure, soft white light.

The light was very faint, but the moment the blood mist touched the white light, it was as if it had met its natural enemy; it shuddered violently and then frantically retracted, all of it drilling back into Jiang Xun's body and falling silent.

Jiang Xun opened his eyes, feeling a sense of oppression in his chest.

He had strength but nowhere to use it.

Like a wild horse fitted with a bridle, like an eagle with its wings clipped.

He was silent for a moment, then closed his eyes again, guiding the blood mist to circulate within his body.

Even if it wasn't released, it could still temper his physical body and enhance self-healing.

However, the core of this Cultivation Technique was ultimately "plunder"; if suppressed within the body for a long time, not only would it be unable to consolidate his cultivation, but it would instead slowly eat away at his own spirituality.

He could only disperse the blood mist, pressing it into the tiny Meridians throughout his limbs and bones, letting it circulate as ordinary blood Qi.

One cycle, two cycles.

Every time it circulated, the Neck Ring would become slightly hot, as if monitoring, or perhaps warning.

It seemed he wouldn't be able to use this Cultivation Technique anymore; with this Neck Ring here, he would sooner or later be eaten clean by this Demonic Technique.

Jiang Xun stopped the technique, opened his eyes, and looked out the window.

The streaks of light in the sky were gradually thinning, and the ships began to move slowly toward a unified direction.

The drums and horns had ceased, replaced by a grand hum as the Spiritual Sails unfurled.

This world was so vast.

And he was locked in this room, with a shackle around his neck.

Like he was being kept as a pet.

Time passed in silence.

The light and shadows outside the window moved slowly, crawling from the east wall to the west wall.

Jiang Xun sat by the bed, motionless, like a statue.

He listened to the faint clamor outside, imagining how excited those trial Disciples were, how they looked forward to it, and how they were beginning their immortal path.

And he couldn't even get out of this door.

It wasn't until the twilight deepened that the door was finally pushed open.

Yan Qingning walked in.

She had changed her clothes.

It was no longer that plain white robe, but a red and white Palace Dress.

Red only appeared on the hem, collar, and waistband, like plum blossoms blooming in the snow, passionate yet restrained.

Most of it was still cloud-white, with a light texture; her sleeves fluttered as she walked, and extremely fine gold threads were embroidered into flowing cloud patterns, appearing and disappearing in the afterglow.

Jiang Xun's heart skipped a beat.

She looked so dignified, so noble, so much like the fantasy of "everything beautiful."

But it was just such a person who had pinned him down and cried last night, and put a Neck Ring on him this morning.

Yan Qingning walked straight up to him.

She didn't speak, only lowered her head, her gaze falling on the black silk ribbon around his neck.

Then she reached out, her fingertips lightly brushing over the edge of the Neck Ring, her movements meticulous, as if she were adjusting a precious accessory.

Jiang Xun could feel the temperature of her fingertips, slightly cool.

The touch was very light, yet it made all the muscles in his body tighten unconsciously.

He remained silent, quietly watching her.

Yan Qingning didn't seem to care.

She smoothed out a tiny wrinkle on the Neck Ring and lightly adjusted its position so that the black silk ribbon fit his neckline more perfectly.

Only after doing all this did she look up and meet his eyes.

Her gaze was very calm, calm to the point of being almost indifferent.

But beneath that calmness, Jiang Xun saw a bottomless, paranoid undercurrent.

Then she spoke, her voice very soft, yet clearly entering Jiang Xun's ears:

"Wear it well."

Not a request, not a consultation.

A statement, a command.

Jiang Xun looked at her for a long time. Finally, he lowered his eyes.

"Does it have to be like this?"