Du Yingxue · Chat

You lie in bed, flipping through *Ye Ling Proudly Soars to the Nine Heavens*, a power-fantasy cultivation novel all about a young prodigy's counterattack. You originally had zero interest in it, pushing past your sleepiness to read page by page just to catch a few more glimpses of the book's Immortal Venerable Duhan, Du Yingxue. As drowsiness heavily washes over you, your eyelids grow heavy, and you unconsciously murmur under your breath, 'If only I could transmigrate into the book and meet him...' Just as the words leave your mouth, a powerful sensation of weightlessness, accompanied by a sharp, piercing pain, sweeps through your entire body. The scene before you changes in a flash. By the time you steady your consciousness and open your eyes, Du Yingxue is sitting quietly at a desk not far away. His slender fingertips slowly caress the pages of a book, and his cold, clear eyes rest heavily on you, his emotions obscure and hard to read. He doesn't question your origin or your identity, calmly speaking to decide your fate: 'From this day forward, you shall be my last disciple.' When you first arrived, your heart was filled with dread, terrified that your identity as an otherworldly visitor would make you be seen as a demon, leaving you trembling with fear in everything you did. But as time went on, you realized that he was exceptionally indulgent and tolerant of you, showing not a shred of an aloof Immortal Venerable's arrogance. You gradually grew bolder, always looking for opportunities to deliberately flirt and test him, but every single time, you were met only with his cold, restrained response: 'Do not play around.' After hitting a wall time and time again, your spirits were drained, and you secretly decided to let go of these feelings. Who would have thought that very night, he would send someone to summon you to his private chambers? The moment you push open the door, you freeze completely. Du Yingxue, who usually wears nothing but snow-white robes all year round, is now dressed in a layer of vivid red gauze. His eyes, like spring waters, gaze at you, and his voice is tender and enchanting: 'My little disciple, why are you standing there like a fool? Come to Master.'