Yun Qingyi looked at Mi Xingzhe with a solemn expression. The gentleness that usually lived in his face was nowhere to be seen—replaced by a clear, contained anger aimed squarely at Mi Xingzhe's deliberate wrongdoing.
Seeing the red smear on Yun Qingyi's fingertip, Mi Xingzhe instinctively drew his neck in. He tried—out of habit—to smile it away, to treat it like nothing.
But after two attempts, he finally realized Yun Qingyi had no intention of letting it slide.
"Brother,Q-Qingyi... " Mi Xingzhe called softly, forcing a playful grin. "It's nothing…"
"Nian Nian." Yun Qingyi's grip on his wrist did not loosen. His voice stayed even, but the anger beneath it pressed like heat under stone. "Do you still remember what I said? Do you think it's amusing to hurt yourself? Or do you simply not take my words to heart?"
He leaned in a fraction, eyes sharp.
"Or are you waiting for Master to deal with you?"
Mi Xingzhe's grin faltered. He stood stiffly, gaze dropping to the floor. "Brother, please… don't tell Master. It's really not a big deal. I just scratched myself—bled a little. There's no need to trouble Master."
"Mi Xingzhe." Yun Qingyi's tone hardened. "Stop pretending you don't understand."
"It's really not as serious as you think," Mi Xingzhe insisted, voice smaller now. "I just… accidentally scratched myself."
Yun Qingyi pressed his lips together. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if forcing the heat down.
For the first time in a long while, Mi Xingzhe saw his Senior Brother like this—stern enough that it sent a chill along his spine.
"Let me ask you again," Yun Qingyi said. "Do you know what you did wrong?"
Mi Xingzhe froze. He rarely heard Yun Qingyi sigh. The room felt heavy, the air drawn tight. For a moment, he didn't know what to say at all, and could only stand there with his head lowered.
Yun Qingyi's anger surged.
With a flick of his hand, he summoned an object into the air—then dropped it onto the table in front of Mi Xingzhe.
Snap!
The box landed hard.
" Than you tell me .What is this?" Yun Qingyi demanded.
Mi Xingzhe's blood turned cold.
Oh no. I stole Master's needles and forgot to put them back.
"Emmm…" He forced a laugh, reaching for the old familiar mask of mischief. "Brother, isn't this Master's needle set? How did it end up with you?"
Yun Qingyi stared at him as if he were something incomprehensible. "Do you truly not know where you went wrong?"
"I…" Mi Xingzhe's voice dipped. Even he couldn't sustain the act. "I didn't do anything."
Yun Qingyi's gaze sharpened. "Our whole body, from head to toe, is a gift from our parents. Do you understand what that means?"
"But I don't have parents…" Mi Xingzhe muttered, almost under his breath.
That single sentence lit the last fuse.
"You—" Yun Qingyi's voice turned harsh. He looked away as if searching for something to anchor himself, then snapped his gaze back. " Did I spoiled you too much? That's why you've become so reckless."
He turned and strode into the side hall, motioning sharply.
"Come here."
Mi Xingzhe, still unsure what exactly was coming, followed behind the curtain.
"…Oh."
He lifted the curtain halfway—and stopped dead.
Yun Qingyi stood there holding a ruler, staring at him with frightening seriousness.
"Brother,…" Mi Xingzhe took an involuntary step back, voice timid now.
"Kneel." Yun Qingyi's command was cold.
Mi Xingzhe's eyes widened. He had never expected this from his usually gentle Senior Brother.
Still, he knelt. Instinctively, he hid his hands behind his back.
"Put your hands out."
"Huh?" Mi Xingzhe looked up, confused.
"Put it out."
"Brother,…Don't..." He tried again, softening his voice.
"Give me your hands,now."
"No ,I… don't want to." His refusal came with a thin edge of grievance.
"Yun. Wan. Nian." Yun Qingyi's voice dropped, each word clipped. "Don't make me do it myself."
Mi Xingzhe's temper flared, defensive and raw. "Why are you punishing me, Senior Brother? I'm not a child. I have the right to decide what to do with my own body. Is this really worth punishing me for? I refuse!"
"You're not a child," Yun Qingyi snapped, "but you act worse than one."
He lifted the ruler, pointing it at Mi Xingzhe's bowed head.
"Tell me—which child behaves like this? Which child doesn't care for their own body and hurts themselves recklessly? Which child steals medical needles and uses them on their own meridians without proper instruction? Are you not afraid you'll cripple yourself?"
Mi Xingzhe clenched his jaw. "I learned it myself—from the Ling Shu Classic."
"Don't talk back."
"I did learn it!" Mi Xingzhe shot back, stubborn pride surging. He lifted his chin. "I mastered the bone techniques and meridian methods from the Ling Shu Classic. If you won't praise me, fine—but you're punishing me for it too!"
Yun Qingyi's eyes narrowed.
"So that's how it is."
The realization landed heavily. Master's suspicion was right—this boy really was using what he learned to interfere with his own recovery.
Mi Xingzhe's face changed instantly. He realized he'd said too much.
"Brother—no, it's not like that. Let me explain—"
"What is there to explain?" Yun Qingyi cut in, voice sharp. "If I hadn't caught you today, how long would you have kept hiding it? The injuries on your arms—were those from that too?"
"Brother, I… I just…" Mi Xingzhe's throat tightened. He couldn't find words fast enough.
"Just what?" Yun Qingyi's anger broke through the restraint. "Master and I have worked every day to adjust your body and treat you. Even your meals are prepared according to your preferences because we want you to recover sooner."
His voice shook slightly with suppressed emotion.
"And what do you do? You don't take care of yourself—and you ignore Master's heart for you."
He turned away, breathing hard, leaving Mi Xingzhe kneeling behind him.
Mi Xingzhe's chest tightened.
Only then did he truly understand why Yun Qingyi was angry—not because of a scratch, not because of disobedience, but because of what it meant.
Brother is right.
I only cared about how I felt. I didn't think about how it would hurt them.
Mi Xingzhe swallowed, then slowly extended both hands, palms up.
"Brother," he said hoarsely, "I am sorry. Please punish me."
Yun Qingyi turned back. He lifted the ruler—
And hesitated.
He couldn't bring himself to strike his palms. Part of it was reluctance, and part of it was instinct: he knew too well where the acupoints lay, how easily the wrong force could do lasting harm.
Mi Xingzhe waited for the familiar sting that never came.
He tried to sneak a glance—
And suddenly his arm was yanked forward. He lost balance and was pulled over the side-hall table.
"This posture—" Mi Xingzhe's breath caught.
Before he could react, a swish of air snapped behind him.
"No, pls——Ah!"
Wind, then pain—sharp and immediate. The burn shot through him like lightning.
"Brother… Qingyi you can not—" Mi Xingzhe twisted his head, shocked. His lashes trembled violently, pupils slightly blown, voice shaking with disbelief.
Yun Qingyi's jaw was tight.
He needed this boy to remember—but he couldn't bear to damage him. After thinking too long, this had felt like the safest place.
"Brother Qingyi—let go. Let go of me!" Mi Xingzhe flushed instantly, struggling hard, humiliated and panicked.
"Nian Nian," Yun Qingyi said, voice still edged with anger, "do you really not take my words to heart?"
With a small spell, he fixed Mi Xingzhe's wrists so the weight of the pressure held him down. It felt as if something heavy pinned Mi Xingzhe's back to the table, making it impossible to straighten.
Mi Xingzhe squirmed, desperate to escape, but he was completely subdued.
Yun Qingyi lifted the ruler again.
Mi Xingzhe flinched on instinct.
Seeing him still trying to wriggle away, Yun Qingyi grit his teeth and forced his hesitation down. He struck several times—controlled, unwilling to put full force into any of them.
"Ah—ah—!" Mi Xingzhe's voice broke. "It hurts, it hurts—Brother—Qingyi—I was wrong,I am sorry, I know I was wrong, please… please don't …"
Perhaps because it was Yun Qingyi, the childish part of him surfaced without permission. His eyes watered, voice trembling.
"Tell me ,Why are you getting this punish?" Yun Qingyi demanded.
"I—I am sorry," Mi Xingzhe stammered, unable to form a proper sentence.
Yun Qingyi tapped the ruler lightly near Mi Xingzhe's face, deliberately frightening him.
Mi Xingzhe hurried, words tumbling out. "My body is a gift from my parents. I shouldn't… shouldn't harm it casually. It hurts Master and Brother…"
"And will you do it again ?" Yun Qingyi pressed.
"No—no.I won't.I promised I won't do it again." Mi Xingzhe answered instantly.
"If you dare do it again, I won't be as lenient as today." Yun Qingyi's voice was cold. "Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Now get up." Yun Qingyi tapped Mi Xingzhe's back twice with the ruler, then released the spell.
Mi Xingzhe stood, rubbing the hot, stinging places on his back, grievance written plainly on his face.
"What?" Yun Qingyi's expression loosened, amusement flickering despite himself. "Feeling wronged after only a few strikes?"
"The punishment… was justified," Mi Xingzhe muttered, embarrassed. "But… but…"
"But what?"
"But you shouldn't punish me like a child." Mi Xingzhe's face burned. He kept his head lowered, voice small. "I'm not a child. It's feels… embarrassing."
"You're not a child?" Yun Qingyi snorted. "Your behavior is less mature than a child's."
He flicked the ruler lightly in his hand, feigning sternness again. "Now you're embarrassed? I'm your Senior Brother. What do you have to be embarrassed about? Let me tell you—if you do it again, I'll break your legs right in front of Master."
"You always use Master to scare me!" Mi Xingzhe suddenly flared up, childish temper bursting out. "Breaking my legs—if you dare hit me like today, I—I'll run away from home!"
"You dare?" The ruler cracked down onto the table with a loud snap.
Mi Xingzhe jolted, shoulders tightening. He tried to look brave, voice shaking anyway. "If you… if you hit me again… I-I'll dare!"
"Yun Wan Nian," Yun Qingyi said, stepping forward as if ready to chase him, "was I not hard enough just now?"
"Hey—don't come over!" Mi Xingzhe darted away, swaggering with forced confidence. "If you hit me again, I'll— I'll dismantle your medicine cabinet!"
"You little brat—you're getting bold!" Yun Qingyi pointed at him and lunged, playing along. "I'll break your legs right now—see if you dare!"
They circled the main hall table in a ridiculous chase.
And then Li Luoning walked in, drawn by the commotion.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Both of them froze instantly and bowed.
"Master."
Li Luoning looked between them, puzzled. "What are you doing?"
Mi Xingzhe immediately looked wronged. He covered his back and darted behind Li Luoning like a shield. "Master—Master—Brother is abusing corporal punishment!"
Li Luoning's brows lifted. "Qingyi?"
Yun Qingyi answered with a perfectly innocent smile. "Master—your earlier guess was correct. I caught him red-handed today. This disciple acted on his own, so I asked Little Junior Brother to taste stir-fried pork with bamboo shoots."
Mi Xingzhe bristled. "You—! You're just bullying me with your higher cultivation. Master, don't believe him!"
Li Luoning's eyes flickered with amusement. He decided to join in, letting his voice turn mild—dangerously mild.
"I was just about to ask," he said, "has anyone seen my needles?"
"Oh~ Master's needles~" Yun Qingyi echoed, deliberately drawing out the words.
Mi Xingzhe's smile stiffened. "Uh… emmm. I suddenly remembered I have something to do. I'll go first…"
He turned to flee.
Before he could take two steps, a spell wrapped around him. His body stiffened mid-stride, bound in place by Li Luoning.
"Hey—let me go, let me go~" Mi Xingzhe whined, struggling uselessly.
"Nian," Li Luoning asked calmly, as if making conversation, "was the stir-fried pork with bamboo shoots delicious?"
Mi Xingzhe swallowed. "…Yes. It was delicious."
"Oh?" Li Luoning's tone stayed gentle. "Would you like to taste it again next time?"
"No—no thanks." Mi Xingzhe shook his head so fast his hair shifted. "Once is enough. I don't want it again."
"Then tell me," Li Luoning said, still calm, "why did you do it?"
Mi Xingzhe's voice shrank. "I… don't know. I just… did it unconsciously."
"Are you stupid?" Yun Qingyi scolded, unable to hold back. "That's your own blood. Do you know you're harming yourself?"
Li Luoning lifted a hand, silencing Yun Qingyi.
He looked at Mi Xingzhe steadily. "Any other feelings?"
"Uh…" Mi Xingzhe's voice grew smaller and smaller. "There… shouldn't be any more…"
"I see." Li Luoning didn't press further.
Mi Xingzhe's panic spiked at that quiet response. He lifted his hand quickly, as if swearing an oath. "Master, I promise—there won't be a next time. Please… don't be angry."