A strange attraction

Chi Cheng sighed mentally. He found the Grandmaster's current demeanour amusing, considering that this usually regal and composed man stormed right into the disciples' quarters and adamantly brought him back here.

Was such a seasoned cultivator like the Grandmaster truly troubled by a mere headache? Shouldn't he have gone to his older brother to be administered with an herbal tonic if that was the case?

'I have no right to complain…' Chi Cheng's heart lightened, a fond smile ladened on his face when he realised that Han Xuelian was just as demanding as Chi Weiran at that moment.

"As you wish." Chi Cheng responded, obliging. Snorting heartily as he opened the vial, the younger male studied the Grandmaster's face.

Han Xuelian's eyes were closed, allowing Chi Cheng to admire his features at leisure without feeling guilty or embarrassed.

The Grandmaster's jawline was perfectly chiselled, a prominent physical feature that displayed his confidence. His face appeared youthful, yet there was an attractive maturity balanced into the way his eyes were almond-shaped and long slit.

There was a warrior's ruggedness about his appearance, but it was subtle, hardly noticeable beneath his refined attitude. As if he was a beast concealing its untamed nature behind a Lord's nobility.

'If you were a beast…' Chi Cheng thought curiously, coating his fingers with the red liquid that smelled of jasmine and other herbal concoctions. 'Would I have been able to tame you during my prime years?'

The absurd thought, painting Chi Cheng's cheeks a pale pink, made him shake his head to clear it away. How could he think about the Grandmaster like that so shamelessly?

Threading his fingers into Han Xuelian's hair, he noticed there were a few specks of snowflakes on the Grandmaster's long eyelashes. He leaned down, lowering his head until his face was just a few inches above the Grandmasters'.

Chi Cheng pursed his lips, creating a small opening in his mouth, and blew a soft breath over the Grandmaster's eyelashes. The cool air made the snowflakes scatter away, stirring Han Xuelian whose eyes fluttered open.

Once again, the icy blue orbs peered into Chi Cheng's emerald green ones. In that silent moment when their gazes locked, Chi Cheng's heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. His heartbeat was so audibly loud as if he could hear the thumps in his mind.

Yet, the Grandmaster's unreadable gaze watched him carefully without a word. Han Xuelian's eyes impatiently lingered for a while on Chi Cheng's lips. The younger male subconsciously bit his bottom lip nervously; the small gesture making the Grandmaster's jaw shift.

Han Xuelian extended his hand upwards, slipping underneath Chi Cheng's hair and reaching to cup the back of his neck. The shorter male's breath hitched, feeling the usual icy sensation from the Grandmaster's fingertips.

However, there was a visible glint of fear in Chi Cheng's eyes. His lips quivered slightly and his eyes fluttered half-closed. As if realising his bold and unrestrained actions, Han Xuelian gently retracted his hand. He closed his eyes again and Chi Cheng subtly moved away without a word.

'I am not Yijun… why are you afraid…' Defeated by Chi Cheng's uncomfortable reaction, the Grandmaster tried to conceal his disappointment. 'Did you do things like this with Yijun?... No, it doesn't matter; it's nothing I should be concerned about.'

Contrary to his stubborn thoughts, Han Xuelian's curiosity about Chi Cheng's past relationship with his nephew irked him to no end.

Unsure of how to interpret the Grandmaster's gesture, Chi Cheng casually resumed coating Han Xuelian's hair with the oil; soaking the liquid into the black silky roots before he worked his fingers into the scalp.

Unfortunately for Chi Cheng, his thoughts curiously took control. While his fingers delved through the coarse strands, applying pressure at specific points, his attention returned to the Grandmaster's handsome features.

'Father mentioned he was a little over a hundred years old… which means he's even more skilled than mother.' Chi Cheng contemplated. A hundred years or so was almost nothing for a cultivator, like a blink of an eye.

'But technically I have a few centuries under my belt, so wouldn't that make you a brat before me?' The thought almost made Chi Cheng laugh but he restrained himself.

'He's not married… Does he have a woman he's interested in? That would explain why he has these oils and hairpins in his drawer.' Chi Cheng's eyes glanced over at the dresser where a few accessories usually adorned by females were set.

"Well, none of it matters to me." He accidentally blurted aloud, earning himself the Grandmaster's attention again.

"What doesn't matter?" Han Xuelian asked, his eyes still closed.

"I misspoke." Chi Cheng casually brushed it off. "Just mindless thoughts."

"The sword fight test will commence tomorrow," the Grandmaster steered the conversation away. "You were expelled for meeting with your mother, as your brother should have been but I decided one of you must bear the punishment for the Grandmistress exerting authority where she has none."

"I understand…" Chi Cheng nodded solemnly. "My mother… is unconventional but she does not mean ill."

'Unconventional is putting it kindly… reckless and chaotic is a better fit…' The Grandmaster smirked to himself.

"I've decided to undertake you as my disciple," Han Xuelian declared, his stiff shoulders relaxing from Chi Cheng's fingers that eased away the throbbing in his head. "You will accompany me wherever I go and I will train you in your cultivation endeavours. I will hear no objections since you promised to obey me."

Chi Cheng didn't understand the intent behind the Grandmaster's words. Why was he suddenly going to such lengths to help him? The younger male simply decided he would return with his mother to their estate once he was recovered, so why did Han Xuelian want to afford his time and efforts on something pointless?

'Do I even have a say in this?' Chi Cheng's heart sank. The Grandmaster's commanding and absolute nature reminded him of his morbid history of being collared and ordered like a lapdog to carry out the bidding of his masters.

"Although I do find it a shame," the Grandmaster sighed, his lips curling mischievously. "I wanted to see your sword skills and your preferred blade. I heard you prefer long swords that can 'thrust' well."