ATAVID CH19.1: Actively feeding blood

Wei Xun froze in place. Soul-Devouring slipped from his fingertips and heavily smashed onto the ground, emitting a muffled thud.

He reached out his hand, subconsciously trying to grab the dispersing black mist.

But what passed through his fingertips was only the wind in the forest.

Wei Xun slowly lowered his eyelids, his thick and long eyelashes blinking gently.

He had always wanted to kill him.

From the moment he learned he had an inner demon, he had tried every possible means to eliminate Jiang Qunyu.

Even though he himself had also degenerated into a half-demon, he still could not accept Jiang Qunyu’s existence.

He schemed to bring the Lingxiao Sect people here, wanting to borrow their knives to kill.

Watching coldly from the sidelines as he fell again and again because he couldn’t see, watching him get injured by sword qi, watching him vomit blood—he felt all of it was right and proper.

But at the exact moment Jiang Qunyu truly dissipated before his eyes, a strange, subtle abnormality suddenly slipped through Wei Xun’s heart.

But perhaps that feeling was too weak, and it was quickly ignored by Wei Xun.

Before he could even react, it was replaced by an overwhelming rage.

“Why? Why didn’t you die?!” Huazhen leaned on his walking stick, staggering half a step back, his eyes filled with horror.

He looked at the scene before his eyes in disbelief, his voice sharp.

“You currently only have the cultivation of the third layer of the Nascent Soul stage! It’s absolutely impossible for you to be completely unscathed under my sword just now! Someone must have helped you! Or is it… Wei Lan! What ultimate protective treasure did he give you that can block a fatal strike?!”

The more he spoke, the more he felt this was the only possibility, his heart filled with suspicion and uncertainty.

That final strike just now had nearly exhausted his remaining spiritual power.

At this moment, his dantian was empty, and a massive panic seized him.

His voice trembled, and he issued orders to his surroundings in near terror: “Quick! Quickly set up the Demon-Slaying Array! Execute that vile spawn right here!”

But when he turned his head, the sight he saw chilled him from his scalp to the soles of his feet.

The dozen or so Golden Core disciples who had come with him were lying in a disorganized heap all over the ground, without anyone noticing when it happened.

Devoid of any aura, they had long since perished silently.

Huazhen’s scalp went numb.

Forcibly suppressing his terror, he raised his hand to form seals, intending to mobilize his last remaining spiritual power for a desperate, life-or-death struggle.

But right at this moment, Wei Xun, who had been keeping his head down, suddenly raised his eyes.

Those eyes, originally covered with a black gloom, were now frighteningly red, as if steeped in blood.

The demonic energy surrounding his body surged madly, more intense than at any time before.

Even the entire mountain forest was dragged into a bottomless, boundless darkness.

He had broken through!

At this time and place, he had actually stepped straight into the Mahayana stage!

Two years ago, this genius disciple of the Lingxiao Sect, Wei Xun, had all his cultivation dissipate. The world all said that in this life, he had no possibility of ever setting foot on the immortal path again.

Yet today, two years later, after switching to cultivate the demonic path, he had still stepped into a realm that other cultivators couldn’t even hope to reach in their entire lifetimes.

Monstrous jealousy and fear churned at the bottom of Huazhen’s heart.

He immediately wanted to abandon his physical body and flee.

But a voice, hoarse as if ground with sandpaper, came to his ear—gloomy, terrifying, carrying an almost maddened coldness.

“You dared touch him?”

That abruptly arriving hostility made Huazhen’s footsteps stall. Baffled, he blurted out: “Him? You actually do have a helper?!”

“I thought about it,” Wei Xun’s voice was as light as a sigh, every word grinding with chill: “He is my inner demon; only I should be the one to kill him.”

As soon as the words fell, Wei Xun’s figure abruptly vanished from the spot.

When he reappeared, he was already right in front of Huazhen.

Soul-Devouring had returned to his hand at some unknown time. Carrying a world-destroying force, it chopped down viciously.

Caught off guard, Huazhen hastily raised his sword to block.

But the force was so great that it actually directly shattered his佩剑 (saber/sword).

The tip of Soul-Devouring pierced straight into his chest.

“You…” Huazhen’s eyes went wide, his face full of disbelief.

Wei Xun pulled at his lips, smiling sinisterly. With a twist of his wrist, Soul-Devouring stirred viciously within Huazhen’s flesh and blood.

His tone was as flat as if talking about an irrelevant, trivial matter: “It’s my fault. He is ultimately my possession.”

“All those who touched him should go accompany him.”

He pulled out Soul-Devouring, and fresh blood splattered onto his face.

It slid down his jawline, dripping onto the ground, blooming into a blinding red.

Huazhen’s body fell heavily to the ground.

Devoid of breath.

The forest instantly quieted down, leaving only Wei Xun’s slightly heavy breathing.

As well as the corpses strewn all over the ground and the sweet, metallic stench of blood.

He raised his eyes, looking up at the sky through the gaps in the dense leaves.

It was still a heavy, dark night.

The only difference was that the person who was always talking in his ear had finally disappeared.

In the past, Wei Xun cultivated the Unfeeling Dao, sealing away all seven emotions and six desires.

Even though the senior brothers and sisters of the Lingxiao Sect treated him kindly on the surface, they always loved to gossip about him behind his back.

Saying he was unapproachable, an emotionless ice sculpture, caring for nothing but cultivation.

He heard these words often but never took them to heart; they couldn’t even stir the slightest ripple.

Cultivation, experiencing trials, growing up.

It wasn’t until the day all his cultivation dissipated that such an intense emotion like resentment was born in the bottom of his heart for the first time.

And right now, his heart felt something.

Although very faint, Wei Xun still carefully savored it like a drug addict.

It was a dull ache, very light, rapidly spreading in his chest, seeping into his bones, lingering and refusing to go away.

“Hahaha—”

Wei Xun suddenly burst into loud laughter, thinking in a very good mood that this truly was a very novel feeling.

He stood silently for a long time. In his divine sense, only churning black mist remained, without half a trace of Jiang Qunyu’s aura.

Wei Xun finally confirmed that Jiang Qunyu was truly dead.

After a long silence, Wei Xun expressionlessly raised his hand and triggered Soul-Devouring, feeding the souls of the corpses on the ground entirely to it.

Only then did he pick up a lone lantern, turn, and leave.

Beside the lantern, the noisy black mist ball that always crossed its legs was gone.

His footsteps thus became a bit eager, leaving only the lantern’s shadow to sway fragmented coldness in the forest.

The wind in the latter half of the night was steeped in damp coldness.

Wei Xun found an ancient tree with a thick trunk, leaped up, curled up, and closed his eyes to rest.

Just as the sky began to lighten with the dawn, Wei Xun got up and continued walking forward.

The Misty Forest lay across the border of the mortal and immortal realms. The deeper one went, the denser the withered bones of mortals alongside the path became.

They were probably all people who had delusional hopes of climbing the Heaven-Ascending Terrace to seek immortality, but ultimately died in a foreign land here.

Inexplicable irritability churned at the bottom of Wei Xun’s heart.

To make matters worse, this realm was filled with heavy restrictions; one could not ride a sword or a flying boat and could only trek on foot.

He frowned. A cold gleam abruptly flashed from his fingertips, casually killing a spirit beast hiding in the dark that wanted to ambush him.

Only then was that bit of anxiety slightly suppressed. He walked over slowly, dug out the spirit beast’s inner core, and tossed it into his Qiankun bag.

But his gaze subconsciously paused, looking toward a corner of the Qiankun bag—

The Qiongye Cake that Jiang Qunyu had carefully put away.

This Qiongye Cake was bought by Jiang Qunyu a month ago in Canglan City.

It had long become inedible.

Wei Xun frowned in disgust.

With revulsion, he took out that box of cloyingly sweet pastries. Originally intending to throw it away, for some unknown reason, he ultimately pinched a piece and stuffed it into his mouth.

The cloying sweetness made the root of his tongue feel astringent. Only someone like Jiang Qunyu would eat such sickly sweet stuff with relish.

A day passed, and that inner demon still didn’t appear.

Wei Xun felt he was in a decent mood and, being bored, actually gave rise to the thought of digging a grave for Jiang Qunyu.

So he condensed Soul-Devouring, picked a spot that could be considered a feng shui treasure land—

Simply put, a place without skeleton frames, where there wouldn’t be evil ghosts fighting Jiang Qunyu for territory—and used Soul-Devouring to dig the dirt.

The blade of Soul-Devouring churned, and in a few strokes, a dirt pit was dug out.

Only then did Wei Xun realize belatedly that Jiang Qunyu had no physical body to begin with. With that bit of remnant soul dispersed, he actually couldn’t leave anything behind.

Stunned for a moment, he untied that plain-colored silk ribbon Jiang Qunyu had wrapped around his wrist, gently tossed it into the pit, and then filled the dirt back in handful by handful.

He then found a rough stone stele and used spiritual power to carve the three words “Jiang Qunyu.”

The strokes were cold and hard, yet carried a rare bit of seriousness.

He hadn’t slept last night. Now, after finishing the grave for Jiang Qunyu, he actually felt sleepy.

Not fearing the gloomy, cold ghosts and demons of this desolate forest, he sat cross-legged right by the tombstone, rested his elbow on his knee, propped his chin on his palm, and fell into a deep sleep.

When Jiang Qunyu woke up again, this was the scene he saw.

The night was heavy, the cold wind howling. The endless leaves rustled like ocean waves.

The area before him looked like a mass grave, with skulls visible everywhere.

In front of him stood a solitary stone stele. The engraved words on the stele were hidden in the night. The sky was too dark, so Jiang Qunyu couldn’t see them clearly.

What should have been a gloomy, terrifying picture instead had countless gloomy blue spirit butterflies fluttering and dancing around the stone stele.

Specks of cold light actually highlighted the extraordinarily poignant beauty of this deathly silent place.

Beside the stele, Soul-Devouring was casually tossed on the ground.

The blade was stained with mud, devoid of its usual hostility, instead appearing somewhat pitiful.

That lone lantern also sat quietly; the wick was about to go out, revealing a section of charred pith.

And Wei Xun was sitting cross-legged right in front of the grave, eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

His long eyelashes drooped, casting a small, shallow shadow under his eyelids.

His face was its usual pale. His brows and eyes, usually covered in frost, had shed their gloominess due to his deep sleep and softened a bit.

Jiang Qunyu hung suspended in mid-air, frozen for a long time, before belatedly realizing that this place actually wasn’t the Underworld of the dead.

Presumably, the attack from Huazhen’s sword had been too fierce. His divine sense was mostly shattered, and it had taken him a lot of effort to condense and take shape again.

Right now, his ball of black mist was only the size of a palm, floating weakly, looking extremely fragile.

But at any rate, after going through this matter, it proved that the method of blocking swords for Wei Xun worked.

Having died this once, he wouldn’t die again for a short time.

It was just that with his divine sense shattered like this, he couldn’t even transform into a human shape.

The most urgent priority right now was still to properly nourish himself.

Jiang Qunyu floated sneakily, just about to drill into that warm spot at Wei Xun’s neck hollow.

But the corner of his eye unexpectedly caught a clear glimpse of the words on the stone stele.

Those three large words were strikingly his name.

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

Fuck?!

This was his grave!

He petrified in place, instantly burning with rage.

Was Wei Xun sick in the head?!

His divine sense had just condensed, not even the first seven days (the traditional mourning period) had passed, and he had already dug a grave for him!

Jiang Qunyu was so angry that his entire black mist ball was sizzling with sparks.

He turned his head viciously to settle accounts with Wei Xun, but unexpectedly crashed into a pair of eyes as gloomy and cold as a freezing pool.

Wei Xun had woken up at some unknown point.

With a twist of his fingertips, he suddenly pinched his half-shattered divine sense. His tone was so cold it lacked the slightest bit of warmth: “Why can you always resurrect?”

Jiang Qunyu was so angry that his entire black mist ball was trembling.

Exerting all his strength, he tilted his head to bite Wei Xun’s fingertips. His teeth scraped against the slightly cool flesh as he sneered: “Of course it’s so I can watch you get stabbed into a sieve by the protagonist top and bottom in the future! Don’t worry, before you’re completely dead, I definitely won’t die!”

“And who asked you to dig a grave for me? Wei Xun, fuck you!”

He cursed as he bit Wei Xun again.

Listening to the sheer malice in his words, Wei Xun didn’t let go. He merely pinched that palm-sized ball of black mist, the look in his eyes unpredictable.

He knew better than anyone the force behind Huazhen’s sword strike. Even if he had resisted with all his might, the chances of surviving were minuscule.

He originally thought Jiang Qunyu’s soul would definitely shatter and scatter this time; he didn’t expect him to resurrect again.

Jiang Qunyu seemed to see his confusion and also knew that he couldn’t break free from Wei Xun’s demonic claws.

Raising his voice, he mocked sarcastically: “What? Are you disappointed I’m not dead?”

The trailing end of his voice even carried a bit of smugness, and the black mist ball trembled: “I am your inner demon. As long as you still have half a trace of desire at the bottom of your heart, I won’t die.”

Wei Xun lowered his eyelashes, concealing the gloom that flashed past.

It wasn’t that he had never encountered cultivators who had fallen into demonic ways.

But the behavior of those demonized cultivators was either losing their sanity, completely controlled by demonic nature, possessing only the instincts for bloodlust and destruction.

Or their spiritual power was restless and uncontrollable; the moment they circulated their cultivation methods, it would backlash against their own heart meridians, completely reducing them to cripples.

There had never been an inner demon like Jiang Qunyu, who seemed like an entirely severed, independent entity from him.

An inner demon’s nature was inherently bloodthirsty and brutal, yet even after killing someone, he would have nightmares for a straight month.

He appeared to understand his past very well, but upon closer examination, one could discover that Jiang Qunyu wasn’t clear on many details.

He even lacked interest in possessing bodies, something inner demons normally flocked to.

Moreover, if he truly was his inner demon, why did he only reappear a whole day after dying?

Just what exactly was he?

Jiang Qunyu hadn’t realized in the slightest that he had already revealed flaws.

Still struggling in Wei Xun’s palm, he viciously threatened him to hurry up and dig up that broken grave.

“I read in that ‘Record of Bizarre Tales’ in your cave abode last time: after a person dies, they must wait until the seventh day to be buried. During these seven days, the soul sheds a bit of its lifetime memories and obsessions every day, which is called cleansing the dust. Only this way can they step onto the Yellow Springs Road (the road to the underworld) without any ties or worries after being cleansed on the seventh day.”

“Otherwise, if the soul harbors obsessions and is tainted with the blood aura of the living, sooner or later it will turn into an evil ghost and come back to claim lives.”

As Jiang Qunyu spoke, he even swayed his black mist to blow at the candle flame in the green paper lantern.

The flickering candle shadow, combined with the chilly night wind and towering ancient trees, really did give off a bizarre, eerie atmosphere.

Wei Xun glanced at him expressionlessly and finally stood up anyway.

Raising his hand, he summoned Soul-Devouring and in a few strokes cleanly dug up the grave that had just been erected not long ago.

Only then did Jiang Qunyu feel much more comfortable.

He lay back down on the lantern.

One person and one inner demon walked in the forest for several more days before finally stepping out of the Misty Forest and entering the mortal realm.

The two stood on an old suspension bridge.

Behind them was the perennially lush green, fog-heavy forest, while in front of them was the intense late autumn of the mortal realm.

It was as if there was a clear boundary between heaven and earth, distinctly separating the two scenes.

The mountains ahead were dyed red by maple leaves, burning all the way from the foot of the mountain to the peak, making even the entire canopy of heaven look scorching hot.

Wherever the frosty wind passed, those reds would rustle down into the clear, sparkling water, winding into a flowing crimson ribbon.

Occasionally, a flock of geese would fly across the sky.

It was certainly an autumn scene not to be missed.

The weather had gotten colder again, so Jiang Qunyu was unwilling to lie on the icy cold lantern anymore.

He floated shakily to Wei Xun’s neck hollow, curling himself into a ball for warmth.

Over the past few days, he had noticed Wei Xun acting a bit strange.

He always loved to stare at him sinisterly, his gaze heavy, as if he wouldn’t rest until he stared a few holes into his body.

At first, Jiang Qunyu felt creeped out from being stared at, but as time passed, he couldn’t be bothered to care and just let him look.

Seemingly realizing that Jiang Qunyu couldn’t transform into human shape anymore, after pinching the black mist ball for a few days, Wei Xun actually started feeding Jiang Qunyu his blood every day.

In the beginning, Jiang Qunyu thought his secret biting of Wei Xun at night had been discovered.

Thinking Wei Xun was setting a trap (fishing for law enforcement), he feigned disgust and stubbornly refused to touch even a single drop.

Wei Xun merely picked him up faintly, expressionlessly rubbed Jiang Qunyu in his hands twice, smearing Jiang Qunyu’s face full of blood.

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

Before he could even act tough, his entire black mist ball softened first.

Flattened into a thin slice against Wei Xun’s palm, he subconsciously licked those blood drops completely clean.

Wei Xun chuckled lightly.

From that day on, he fed him blood every day.

In less than half a month, the black mist ball became much rounder, feeling warm and soft to the touch; the texture was much better.

Jiang Qunyu felt Wei Xun was definitely brewing some bad idea.

After being on tenterhooks for a while, he completely gave up trying to resist (let it rot).

Afterward, he stuck to Wei Xun all day long, either nesting in his neck hollow or lying prone on his shoulder.

He thought without any psychological burden: Wei Xun ought to be raising him anyway.

After living this kind of life for a month, Jiang Qunyu felt that his entire body was stained with Wei Xun’s aura.

His body was also round and plump, so he was no longer willing to drink that blood.

Wei Xun sat cross-legged within the inn’s bed curtains. He lowered his eyes, the wound on his palm oozing blood outward, and said sinisterly: “Drink it.”

Jiang Qunyu kept feeling something was wrong: “I’m not drinking it. Don’t think I don’t know what bad ideas you’re plotting.”

“Oh?” Wei Xun seemed to grow interested. He reached out and grabbed him into his palm, dipped his fingertips in blood and smeared it on his black mist, raising an eyebrow to ask, “Then tell me, what idea am I plotting?”

Jiang Qunyu trembled and voiced his guess: “You must have planted Gu (venomous worms/poison) in your blood, wanting to control me.”

“Planting Gu?” A creepy smile appeared on Wei Xun’s face as he sighed with emotion: “That truly is a good idea.”

Jiang Qunyu choked, so angry his hair almost stood on end.

He wished he could pounce on him and fight him, but unfortunately, he couldn’t even take human shape right now; he could only hold it in until his black mist trembled and he saw stars.

“Wasn’t that your plan? Then what are you feeding me your blood for every day?”

A cold sneer hooked on Jiang Qunyu’s face, “Don’t tell me you don’t want me to die.”

Wei Xun’s movements of rubbing him suddenly paused.

When he sat quietly, he looked like a compassionate fairy—red lips and white teeth, robes like snow, wide sleeves bunched at the elbows, revealing fair wrists.

He suddenly lifted his long eyelashes, and the aura surrounding his body turned cold.

A light chuckle spilled from his throat, every word steeped in cold: “Naturally not. I just regret it.”

Wei Xun unhurriedly bandaged the wound on his hand.

His voice was pressed very low, wrapped in a chill, enunciating every word: “You are my possession. Although I really want you to die, I shouldn’t let someone else kill you.”

His icy fingertips stroked Jiang Qunyu’s round, plump black mist.

Stroking him until a wave of numbness shot up from his tailbone.

“So, I plan to raise you back to health. Wait until you’re as round as before, and then personally kill you.”

Wei Xun sneered, the trailing end of his voice hooking with sinister coldness.

Hearing this, a bizarre sense of reassurance actually surged in Jiang Qunyu’s heart.

Sure enough, how could this psychopath Wei Xun suddenly have good intentions?

So he was harboring this plan all along.

It was just pitiful that he had even provided a new line of thought for this lunatic!

Sure enough, not long after, Wei Xun said: “I should go find some Gu worms to plant in your body. This way, even if you can’t die, I can make you wish you were dead.”

Jiang Qunyu stayed silent for a while and decided to play dead.

As long as he ignored Wei Xun, he figured Wei Xun would forget about this matter before long.

Unfortunately, he still underestimated Wei Xun.

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