BW Extra 18.1

Chu Jun × Ning Buwei (1.1)

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(1)

Ning Buwei could no longer clearly remember exactly how he had come to like Chu Jun back then.

At that time, Ning Xingyuan was still alive, and the entire Ning City’s Ning Mansion allowed him to run around causing mischief. There were even rumors that after Ning Xingyuan, the next family head of the Ning family would be this little master.

Ning Buwei didn’t take it to heart. His older brother could continue being the Ning family head forever, while he only needed to do what he wanted to do.

At sixteen, what he most hoped for was to quickly finish his studies at Wanxuan Academy and go with his good friends to the seventeen states to accomplish some earth-shaking great enterprise.

Young people always admired the strong. In his heart, his brother Ning Xingyuan was an unreachable, absolutely first existence. Later, when Chu Jun appeared, he ranked below his brother, gloriously ascending to second place among the strong.

Although at the same time, this head teacher who always wore an ugly mask also ranked first among the head teachers he most disliked, even surpassing that rigid old man Hao Zheng.

Chu Jun always had ways to interrupt his, Cui Ci and Wen Zaiye’s plans to “cause trouble,” and would imperceptibly make him suffer consequences—going to the Self-Reflection Pavilion for endless self-reflection.

He sat in the back row of the classroom, hugging his arms and staring at Chu Jun’s pair of fair, slender, well-defined hands. One hand pressed against the sandalwood-black desk surface, the other holding a scroll of book pages. They were quite beautiful, and carried some other indescribable meaning that made his heart restless, like an itch in his heart that he couldn’t scratch.

Under that strange mask, the only visible pair of eyes were even more ridiculously beautiful—deep and serene, always carrying a sense of detachment and indifference when looking at people, like a bottomlessly deep pool he had once seen in a secret realm.

That waist cinched by a palm-wide belt was also just right—broad shoulders, narrow waist. His legs were also straight and slender. Everything was good, except you couldn’t see his face, and his voice was rough and hoarse, terribly unpleasant… Ning Buwei propped up his head and lazily stared at the lecturing head teacher, his mind full of irrelevant thoughts.

He would definitely grow taller than this surnamed Chu in the future. That waist—he could wrap one arm around it right now. Last night in the Self-Reflection Pavilion, when Head Teacher Chu took the explosive talisman from his hand, those warm fingertips brushed across his palm… Hiss.

He ground his teeth, feeling that this surnamed Chu was truly detestable, always opposing him.

Just as he was lost in thought, Cui Ci and Wen Zaiye beside him began coughing frantically.

The hand he had been staring at was now right in front of him. Snow-white sleeves covered the back of the hand, index and middle fingers slightly bent, knocking unceremoniously on his forehead. That unpleasant voice carried a hint of warning. “Ning Chengfeng, pay attention in class.”

Ning Buwei snapped back to attention sharply. A faint bitter fragrance swept past his nose—like the scent of certain medicinal herbs, or like the unmelted ice and snow on mountain peaks in winter, cold and clear, very… pleasant-smelling.

He narrowed his eyes and smiled with ill intent. “What incense did Head Teacher Chu burn today? Or which female cultivator did you embrace to get that powder scent on you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the disciples in the classroom burst into laughter.

This whole room was filled with unruly heirs picked from the ten great sects and eight great families—proud and troublesome to the extreme. In the entire Wanxuan Academy, only Hao Zheng could control them. Other head teachers were often driven away in anger, showing just how rebellious they were.

Ning Buwei was the most troublesome among these troublemakers. Even Hao Zheng often had no way to deal with him.

He hugged his arms, staring at Chu Jun with malicious playfulness, wanting to see how he would respond.

Warm fingers inadvertently brushed across his collarbone, fleeting as a touch. A box of fragrant powder appeared in his palm, and the box was placed on the desk. Immediately, the surrounding jeering grew even louder.

Chu Jun continued lecturing with his scroll, and heavy pressure descended. The jeering instantly ceased, each person becoming as docile as quails.

Unlike the Wanxuan Academy head teachers who liked to lecture at every turn, this Head Teacher Chu’s teaching method was direct and brutal—whoever was strongest had the final say. The result was surprisingly effective.

Ning Buwei’s face remained dark throughout the entire class.

After class ended, he smashed the powder box into Cui Ci’s arms, gritting his teeth. “Next time you want to bring things for your little junior sisters, go buy them yourself!”

“Hey, Chengfeng!” Cui Ci tucked the powder box into his robes and chased after him with a grin. “It’s nothing serious—you just got outmaneuvered by that surnamed Chu. We’ll get him back some other day!”

Wen Zaiye waved his fan and smiled. “If you ask me, you brought it on yourself with that loose tongue. What’s the point of asking someone what incense they burned? Isn’t that obviously flirting? If it had been a female head teacher, she would have been driven to tears long ago.”

Ning Buwei choked on his words and frowned. “I just hadn’t smelled it before, so I asked casually. How was I supposed to know he was so petty?”

“If you ask me, you should just stop provoking him.” Cui Ci put his arm around his shoulder. “Can’t you see that everyone else doesn’t dare kick this iron plate? Only you keep provoking him every time, and you get the worse end of it each time.”

“I refuse to believe it.” Ning Buwei looked at that familiar figure in the distance and raised his eyebrows in displeasure.

A few days later, Ning Buwei was numbly dragged to the Self-Reflection Pavilion to copy books. By the time his punishment ended, it was already the hour of Zi. 

(TL: 11 PM – 1 AM).

Chu Jun put away the scroll. “That’s enough for today. Return to the disciple quarters to rest.”

Ning Buwei put down his writing brush and stretched lazily. As Chu Jun walked around him, he grabbed the other’s sleeve. Looking up with a teasing expression. “Head Teacher Chu, the disciple quarters are already locked at this hour. If I go back, I’ll have to climb over the wall, and if the dormitory manager catches me, he’ll scold me again.”

“I’ve already informed the dormitory manager.” Chu Jun turned his head slightly and looked down at him.

“Our dormitory manager has a terrible temper. Every time I return late, I get scolded until I’m black and blue.” Ning Buwei looked distressed. “Head Teacher Chu, please take pity on me and let me spend one night at your place.”

As expected, Chu Jun refused him. “No.”

“Head Teacher Chu, I can sleep on the floor.” Ning Buwei sighed dramatically. “After I get scolded, I’ll only have two hours left to sleep.”

The usually arrogant and domineering troublemaker speaking in such a soft tone seemed to make Chu Jun somewhat hesitant.

Ning Buwei shoved all the writing brushes and scrolls on the desk into his storage bag, stood up behind him, and still didn’t let go of the sleeve he was gripping. His voice was muffled. “Head Teacher Chu, I copied six hundred pages of books tonight. I really… can barely keep my eyes open.”

He had been unusually obedient today, enduring the humiliation and writing until his hand ached. If this surnamed Chu didn’t take the bait, he would find a rope and hang himself from a tree.

“Let’s go.” Chu Jun indeed didn’t refuse.

Ning Buwei’s face broke into a triumphant smile. Just to be safe, he kept gripping his sleeve all the way to the head teacher’s courtyard.

Although Chu Jun was just an ordinary head teacher, he lived alone in a small courtyard. The environment was quite peaceful.

Chu Jun opened the door. “There’s a small couch in the outer room. You can rest there tonight—”

Before he finished speaking, Ning Buwei headed straight for the inner room, sat on the couch in the inner room, and patted the cushions with a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Head Teacher Chu. I won’t stand on ceremony then.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he lay down on the couch, let his head drop, and fell asleep.

Chu Jun: “…………”

Half an hour later, Ning Buwei quietly opened his eyes a crack. Not far away on the bed, Chu Jun was sitting in meditation.

He curved his lips in a smile and poured out a handful of talisman papers from his sleeve, silently scattering them throughout the room.

However, before he could implement the next step of his plan, a warm hand gripped his wrist.

Ning Buwei, caught in the act of mischief, was startled. Unfortunately, the spiritual power throughout his body was suppressed and couldn’t be mobilized. He leaned against the couch, staring at the terrifying mask before him, his heart pounding like a drum.

Ninety percent of it was fear from being caught red-handed in mischief.

“Ning Chengfeng, you’re not sleepy anymore?” Chu Jun’s oppressive aura was extremely strong, and those beautiful eyes were cold and lightless.

For a moment, he even felt that the other person wanted to kill him.

The killing intent and bloody pressure accumulated from five hundred years of practicing the Path of Slaughter pressed down on him without reservation. Although Ning Buwei didn’t know the specific reason, his whole person was like a startled small beast, putting on a fierce front while glaring at him, but his body couldn’t help shivering.

Chu Jun chuckled softly, and the talisman papers in his hand all turned to powder.

Someone who had not yet practiced the Path of Tranquility—his Path of Slaughter dao heart was now completely destroyed, and his temper really couldn’t be considered good. The little fellow who could help him survive his fate tribulation was right in front of him, yet still provoked him daily. It was truly difficult for him to resist the urge to kill the other person.

Warm fingers covered Ning Buwei’s neck.

Ning Buwei closed his eyes, accepting his fate. He shoved all the explosive talismans and stink talismans hidden on his body into Chu Jun’s hands, hanging his head dejectedly. “They’re all here. If you want to punish me, then punish me. Whether it’s copying books or reciting mental cultivation methods, I’ll accept it!”

Chu Jun’s hand, which hadn’t yet applied force, paused slightly. He looked at the pile of miscellaneous talisman papers that had appeared in his arms with an unreadable expression and fell into silence.

A five-hundred-year-old Path of Slaughter cultivator really had difficulty understanding what went through a sixteen-year-old boy’s head all day.

The proud and face-conscious little master, caught red-handed, became angry from embarrassment. He slapped away Chu Jun’s hand and climbed up from the couch, crossed his arms and glared at him with an unfriendly expression, saying seriously, “Chu Jun, I won’t give up.”

Chu Jun was somewhat puzzled. “Give up what?”

“I’ll defeat you sooner or later!” Ning Buwei said fiercely. “And make you realize who’s really the boss at Wanxuan Academy!”

“…………” Chu Jun held back for a long time before he didn’t laugh out loud. The killing intent around him immediately dissipated.

It wasn’t enough that the boy wasn’t afraid of him—he actually dared to challenge him so seriously.

After issuing his declaration of war, Ning Buwei turned to run but was caught by his collar.

“Stop making trouble and go to sleep quickly.” Chu Jun pressed him onto the couch. “You still have morning classes tomorrow.”

Ning Buwei struggled for a while but couldn’t break free. He puffed up like a pufferfish, angrily muttering threats, but after saying only a few words, he fell asleep while hugging the hand that was restraining him.

In his dream, Little Master Ning was unstoppable, beating the surnamed Chu head teacher until he cried for his parents and rolled around in a sorry state, standing with arms akimbo and laughing wildly.

Outside the dream, Little Master Ning was hugging Head Teacher Chu’s arm, sleeping soundly with his arms and legs wrapped around the other person, completely unrestrained in his sleeping posture.

The Path of Slaughter cultivator who had originally prepared to kill someone sat by the couch with a wooden expression, completely baffled, looking down at the little master’s slightly flushed cheeks from sleep.

The little baby who had been as small as a kitten sixteen years ago had now grown into such a big young man. Head Teacher Chu found it somewhat miraculous.

So he couldn’t resist and reached out one finger to gently poke.

Soft.

(2)

If he really had to recall, Ning Buwei thought, it was probably when his heart demon manifested and he couldn’t get a peaceful night’s sleep for ten days to half a month.

He was born with a spiritual body and would unconsciously cultivate even while sleeping. He had loved sleeping since childhood, but ever since spending a year under Ning Fan’s control, he could never sleep soundly.

He would always dream of Ning Gu and Li Xiaohan, occasionally dreaming of their tragic deaths. Again and again he would wake from nightmares, covered in cold sweat, staring blankly for a while before forcing himself back to sleep.

In dreams was the only chance he had to see his parents again.

So he loved sleeping.

Ning Xingyuan, Wen Zaiye, Cui Ci, and several other close people all thought he was drowsy because of his many activities. This was his own little secret.

Everyone had some little secrets, after all.

So when he discovered he couldn’t cultivate and moreover couldn’t sleep, panic arose in his heart.

Countless strange, complex, and terrifying thoughts entangled in his mind, making him anxious and uneasy. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was blood and thick black fog, yet his mind remained frighteningly clear.

He should go find his brother or Dean Hao for help.

Young Ning Buwei thought this at the time, but when he imagined what they would ask, he shrank back.

He couldn’t find what was wrong with his body. He was just panicked, desperately wanting to sleep like a madman.

But he couldn’t fall asleep.

He was exhausted, couldn’t concentrate on class content, his temper became increasingly irritable, and he thought of various ways to trouble Chu Jun, wanting to divert his attention.

On this rest day, he really couldn’t bear it anymore. He felt like he was dying of discomfort and had to vent his irritability, so he very arrogantly climbed into Chu Jun’s room.

Chu Jun was clearly unwelcoming, but Ning Buwei’s greatest virtue was his thick skin.

He had originally intended to cause trouble, but when drowsiness struck, Ning Buwei was overjoyed. He nimbly rolled onto the couch, muttering, “Head Teacher Chu, let me borrow your couch for a nap.”

He probably had another nightmare, but in the dream he could always smell a clear, bitter fragrance, and it seemed someone was gripping the back of his neck. He frowned but didn’t mind.

He finally had a comfortable sleep.

Chu Jun could make him fall asleep—although this conclusion was a bit strange, Ning Buwei was still very happy that he had found a “solution” to the problem, so he thought of various ways to sneak into his room.

For instance, he would very politely bring some food, small trinkets, or simply bring a book to ask questions, insisting on pestering him to play chess… and so forth.