Feng Rugu lowered his head, took out the medicine from the storage bag, picked up the smoking pipe, took a puff, and gently blew it on the bleeding wound along with the warm breath in his mouth, first stopping the pain, then applying the medicine.

Ruyi's back was straight as a ramrod, inexplicably nervous, wondering how he should answer if Feng Rugu asked about his injuries.

His inexplicable pain, anger, the insecurity of being abandoned, self-abandonment, self-loathing, were the sources of these scars, and also the part he could not speak of.

But surprisingly, Feng Rugu didn't ask.

Before applying the medicine, he didn't ask anything, and after applying the medicine, he only pushed a small plate of pastries in front of Ruyi.

Seeing this plate of pastries, Ruyi's heart moved.

When he was a child, whenever he was in a bad mood, his adoptive father would bring him all kinds of sweets to comfort him.

At first, he didn't have a sweet tooth and could eat whatever he grabbed, but his adoptive father had cultivated his love for sweets.

Since entering Hanshan Temple, he had been disciplined and self-controlled, and had never indulged in sweets again.

He politely nodded, took a piece, and elegantly put it in his mouth.

Feng Rugu said, "I stole it from Sanchai's small kitchen. Eat slowly, there's more."

Ruyi's chewing motion obviously paused for a moment: "..."

Feng Rugu took the responsibility: "I stole it, it doesn't count as you breaking the precepts."

Ruyi hesitated for a moment and nodded to Feng Rugu in thanks.

"The first time I met Senior Brother, something happened at home. Senior Brother brought a plate of pastries to coax me, saying that whether an injury was physical or emotional, eating something sweet was good for lifting one's spirits." Looking at Ruyi eating, Feng Rugu propped his chin, his voice full of nostalgia, "To be honest, I had never eaten such unpalatable pastries, so hard and overly sweet. After finishing a plate, I lay on the bed, too full to walk, rubbing my belly and thinking, I have a home again."

The word "home" obviously touched a nerve in Ruyi.

He turned his face away and said lightly, "Adoptive father has always been so kind to people."

But Feng Rugu looked at him and said softly, "He's not kind enough. If he knew that letting you go to Hanshan Temple would make you like this, your adoptive father wouldn't have let go."

At this point, both fell silent, with only the sound of heartbeats echoing in the room.

The two people sitting opposite each other in the room were each lost in their own thoughts, naturally unaware of when an extra person appeared at the door.

Chang Boning, who had concealed his presence, stood at the wide-open door with a paper package in his hand, listening to the whispers of the two inside, a layer of faint melancholy covering his eyebrows hidden by the light gauze.

...Obviously telling him to rest, yet he's always so disobedient.

...He always puts this child above him.

After a short while, Chang Boning stepped out silently, his robe fluttering, unseen by the two people in the room.

Returning to the main house, he called for Luo Fuchun, "Fuchun, give these to Rugu when he comes out. I'm in a hurry to go to Mizhi Mountain. These are the best pastries I could find in the city. Tell him not to waste them."

Luo Fuchun took them with both hands and murmured his assent, but before he could say more, Chang Boning simply said, "Don't send me off," and gracefully stepped out of Thousand Mechanisms Court.

As Luo Fuchun pondered while holding the pastries, Hai Jing couldn't help but praise, "Daoist Chang is truly gentle and refined, caring for his fellow disciples. More than ten years ago, he performed such a good deed in the ancient city. No matter how you look at it, he's a top gentleman. I suppose the title 'Ghost-Hearted Guanyin' is all a lie."

Luo Fuchun and Sang Luojiu looked at each other.

Sang Luojiu said, "As for this name, my senior uncle does live up to it."

Hai Jing was still immersed in his admiration for Chang Boning and was quite surprised, "How so? Did he really..."

Luo Fuchun nodded, "Ten years ago, during the 'Forgotten World' incident, my elder brother Xiao Rang was seriously injured. He was in and out of consciousness. But when my grand master and senior uncle rushed into 'Forgotten World' to save people, it was very noisy and he happened to wake up for a while and saw--"

Before the "Forgotten World" incident, Chang Boning was the most promising of the younger generation in Fengling, and even the entire Dao Sect, to ascend to the upper realm first. He had few desires and was modest and polite. His only flaw was that he was too Buddhist in nature and did not know what killing was, which led to little progress in his swordsmanship, slightly inferior to his junior brother Feng Rugu.

He had an excellent reputation outside, and there were even rumors that someone had set up a living shrine for him, praising his virtues.

It was this immortal-like figure who, on that day, led the charge and broke into the demon prison, smashing the shackles and rescuing the people. When Xiao Rang groggily opened his eyes, he saw him kneeling beside Feng Rugu, his hands trembling uncontrollably and tears gushing out as he lifted the tattered cloth covering Feng Rugu's body.

The clamor of the demon sect could be heard in the distance. Xiao Rang wanted to remind the stiff Chang Boning to be aware of what was behind him, but he saw him staggering to his feet, his eyes brimming with tears, and pressing his sword to his side.

The half-drawn Tangdi sword was covered with a thin, fierce red light.

Dozens of demon sect members shouted and rushed from the other side of the prison.

Chang Boning suddenly turned around, the Tangdi sword fully drawn, but the sword had no edge. The sword energy dispersed into a shower of pale red flower petals, each one imbued with killing intent. It was fast, faster than the blink of an eye. The group of attacking demon cultivators had already let out miserable howls as the petals opened countless holes in their bodies, blood mist bursting out, turning them into corpses.

The flower rain passed, and a thousand demons were slain.

That night, Chang Boning's Tasha sword technique, which he had been unable to break through despite being in seclusion for four years, finally achieved great success.

He, who had always been known as the "Clear Sage," also nearly slaughtered all the demon cultivators within a three-mile radius that night using the Tasha sword technique. His reputation plummeted overnight, and he was given the name "Ghost-Hearted Guanyin." People respected him, but also feared him.

...

Seeing Hai Jing's dumbfounded expression, Luo Fuchun helplessly explained, "When I entered the mountain, I also felt that my martial uncle was inconsistent inside and out. But as time passed, I saw his true heart. My martial uncle really has a very good personality and temperament. You don't need to be afraid of him. As long as you don't provoke his killing intent for no reason, he doesn't like to wield knives and spears or kill people. The things he loves most in his life are my master and watering flowers."

...

Chang Boning stepped out of the small courtyard and exhaled, but the depression in his chest did not dissipate with this breath.

He rubbed his chest, his expression a bit strange.

This feeling of discomfort in his heart was exactly the same as it had been ten years ago when Rugu, despite being severely injured and on the verge of death, had stubbornly held on to his last breath and ran down the mountain to look for Ruyi.

He had always given his martial brother complete freedom, but he was unwilling to let him use this freedom on that person.

Chang Boning dazedly thought, could this be a manifestation of his impure cultivation heart?

Just as he was about to ponder further, his expression suddenly changed, as if he had sensed something and looked towards the southwest, but he didn't see anything.

He secretly laughed at himself for being overly suspicious. Leaning on the Tangdi sword, he transformed into a flowing cloud and headed in the direction of Mount Mizhi, disappearing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Before long, the figure of a man in black appeared on the flying eaves to the southwest.

His hand rested on the hilt of his Tang saber, his fingertips slowly caressing the end of the hilt as he gazed in the direction Chang Boning had left.

After being lost in thought, he unbuttoned his front lapel a little and looked down at his chest.

His chest was crisscrossed with saber scars, as if it had been slashed by a short-handled dagger.

But among the messy lines, a few characters could vaguely be made out.

The most conspicuous and clearest of them was a messy "Chang" character.

The eyes beneath the black-clothed man's mask revealed a hint of confusion, but this sole emotion quickly faded away.

He tidied his clothes, took a step forward, and leaped off the flying eaves, immediately departing in the opposite direction from Chang Boning.

Author's Note: This is the initial layout of the CP format for the entire story.