ATAVID CH41

Jiang Qunyu woke up earlier than Wei Xun.

Unsure whether it was because he had consumed too much blood this time, Jiang Qunyu tested his movements and was surprised to find that he could already manifest his soul form.

With nothing else to do, Jiang Qunyu pulled out his communication jade pendant and attempted to contact Wen Xingyao.

The jade pendant flickered with light.

Jiang Qunyu first cast an isolation talisman before calling out, “Wen Xingyao?”

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

Then, a piercing shriek erupted: “Ah—! A ghost—!”

Jiang Qunyu’s lips twitched. Hadn’t he always been a ghost in Wen Xingyao’s eyes? How could the guy still be scared witless like this?

But it was rather amusing.

So, Jiang Qunyu lowered his voice and said in an eerie, ominous tone, “Yes, I am a ghost… My death was so horrific… Wen Xingyao… give me back my life…”

“Ahhhhhhh—!” Wen Xingyao wailed on the other end, making an earth-shattering racket. “Young master here didn’t kill you! Once young master returns, I’ll definitely burn paper money for you! A whole room full of it!”

Jiang Qunyu shook with laughter, nearly losing his grip on his soul form.

Only after Wen Xingyao confirmed that the person on the other side of the communication jade was indeed Jiang Qunyu did he spend a long while wailing and crying like a spoiled child.

“Jiang Qunyu, you’re not dead! If you weren’t dead, why didn’t you say so earlier! You scared young master to death, you know that! Young master thought you were really dead and cried for so long, my eyes are all swollen!”

Jiang Qunyu listened to the rambling complaints from the other end.

After quite a while, Wen Xingyao finally spoke up, his voice tinged with lingering fear and grievance, “Jiang Qunyu, Wei Xun seems to have truly gone mad.”

Jiang Qunyu’s fingertips paused slightly.

“Since you died, why wasn’t he sad at all?” Wen Xingyao’s voice carried a hint of righteous indignation. “Moreover, he set the City Lord’s manor on fire with a single blaze! If young master hadn’t run fast enough, I surely would have died inside it.”

Jiang Qunyu fell silent for a moment.

He thought to himself that he had indeed misread things that day. How could Wei Xun ever show that kind of expression for him? It was probably just that his own consciousness had blurred right before he dissipated, causing him to see things incorrectly.

“He hates me,” Jiang Qunyu said faintly. “If I truly died, it would actually be a release for him.”

Of course, the same went for himself.

The two of them had found each other eyesores for so many years; it was already considered decent that they hadn’t grown completely repulsed by each other by now. Though Jiang Qunyu felt that day wasn’t far off either.

Wen Xingyao, however, absolutely felt otherwise. He spent a long time filling in a massive backstory on his end of the jade, hesitating to speak repeatedly. His mood was incredibly complex, until he finally reached a silent conclusion in his heart—

These two, how is this a simple matter of hatred? They are clearly intertwined by a chaotic mess of love and hate, hopelessly entangled.

But since he had guessed wrong last time, he didn’t say much more now.

Jiang Qunyu didn’t mind either. In comparison, he was much more interested in what followed: “Tell me in detail about what has happened over these past few days.”

Wen Xingyao rattled off a long explanation: “On the day of the fire at the City Lord’s manor, I left together with those few cultivators from the Mysterious Sword Sect. That Immortal Sovereign Shen even praised young master for having an excellent bone structure, saying that if I’m willing to put effort into cultivation, I’ll definitely carve out a name for myself in the way of the sword in the future.”

At this point, the smugness in his tone practically overflowed: “He even asked if I’d be willing to return to the Mysterious Sword Sect with him. Young master didn’t refuse. Once we leave this place, I plan to return to the Imperial Capital first to bid farewell to my parents before heading up to the Mysterious Sword Sect.”

Hearing this, Jiang Qunyu felt a weight lift from his heart.

Wen Xingyao’s plotline, which had been thoroughly messed up, had finally returned to its proper track.

He thought it over and offered a subtle warning: “Once you are at the Mysterious Sword Sect, stay far away from Lan Yuanzhou.”

Wen Xingyao responded like the naive son of a wealthy landlord: “Isn’t he my senior brother? I was actually planning to build a good relationship with him.”

Jiang Qunyu curled his lips. He desperately wanted to shake Wen Xingyao’s brain—you might view him as a senior brother, but he certainly doesn’t view you as a junior brother!

“Just listen to me,” Jiang Qunyu said.

Though unsure why, Wen Xingyao still complied: “Oh.”

“Also, do not get too close to Shen Peiqiu.” Otherwise, staying away from Lan Yuanzhou wouldn’t be of any use.

Wen Xingyao responded very quickly this time: “Rest assured, I only regard him as my master.”

Jiang Qunyu was slightly surprised. The young man has great awareness! His tone instantly loosened up quite a bit, carrying a hint of gratification: “And here I thought I’d have to persuade you for a long time.”

Wen Xingyao acted all wise and experienced, as if he had seen through the ways of the world: “How many master-disciple romances in storybooks ever have a good ending? Besides, I’m busy running a business, who has time for romance.”

Jiang Qunyu was dumbfounded. If that was the case, why on earth was Wen Xingyao bullied by the disciples of the Mysterious Sword Sect in the original plot?

“Speaking of which,” Wen Xingyao said mysteriously, “I always feel that the relationship between Lan Yuanzhou and my master is a bit strange. And yesterday, they seemed to have had a fight because of that little white flower from before.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…You truly have the intuition of a wild beast.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Wen Xingyao chuckled and continued, “I listened from outside for a bit but couldn’t make out much. But soon after, that little white flower ran out crying. A whole night has passed, and he still hasn’t returned. My master plans to go look for that little white flower himself right now.”

He let out a long sigh. “The other disciples of the Mysterious Sword Sect plan to go along too. I’m considered one of them now, so I have to go.”

Jiang Qunyu pursed his lips, a sudden premonition striking his heart.

According to the typical style of this melodramatic original novel, something was bound to happen at a time like this. It would either be a dramatic misunderstanding or a painful, angsty love. In short, the protagonist would definitely fall into danger, allowing their bond to sublimate at the critical moment.

Fortunately, this storm shouldn’t affect Wen Xingyao. He gave a few reminders, telling Wen Xingyao to be careful with everything, before putting away the communication jade.

The air returned to quiet once more, with only the candlelight gently flickering.

Jiang Qunyu walked a few paces around the room. The silence around his body made him feel uneasy. Out of sheer boredom, he walked over to the window and reached out to push it open.

The night breeze was slightly cool, drifting in with the distant darkness. Twilight had fully settled; there was no moon, nor were there any stars, only a deep blackness as thick as spilled ink weighing heavily upon the horizon.

The distant mountains, woods, and houses were so blurred that one could only make out their faint silhouettes. A stifling oppression hung between heaven and earth, like the calm before a storm.

Jiang Qunyu couldn’t be bothered to move elsewhere, so he simply sat on the windowsill, one leg casually curled up against his chest while the other dangled in the empty air. He turned his body slightly, quietly gazing out at the night scenery.

Wei Xun had woken up at some unknown point.

The moment he opened his eyes, this was the exact scene he witnessed.

The youth’s soul form was still very weak, semi-transparent and emitting a faint luminescence, almost dissolving into the night. It felt as though a single gust of wind could scatter him into the boundless, chilly dark.

Wei Xun’s chest tightened inexplicably, and a surge of causeless panic rushed through his limbs and bones.

In the next instant, Jiang Qunyu’s form seemed to lighten slightly, and he actually tipped backward from the windowsill, falling downward.

To Wei Xun, the image seemed to slow down countless times. The youth’s semi-transparent silhouette slipped from the window edge, his robes fluttering in the night breeze.

The string in Wei Xun’s mind snapped entirely; all his composure shattered to pieces. His face turned deathly pale in a split second. Almost entirely out of instinct, he bolted from the bed and leapt down from the second-floor window without a shred of hesitation.

The sound of the wind roared in his ears. In a daze, Wei Xun actually felt as though the clear, crisp chiming of the silver bells on the Soul-Eater was ringing in his ears again.

The moment he landed, a startled voice rang out beside him. Jiang Qunyu asked, “Why did you come down too?”

Wei Xun froze.

He turned his head to look. Jiang Qunyu was perfectly fine, standing on the ground with his soul form still semi-transparent, tilting his head as he looked at him.

Wei Xun looked up at the second-floor window again. The distance to the ground was barely over a chang. In a soul state, drifting down like that wouldn’t cause any harm at all.

The heart pounding wildly inside his chest finally began to settle down slowly. Yet Wei Xun’s face remained heavily darkened, a mix of lingering fear and ferocity swirling in the depths of his eyes.

He couldn’t quite control his emotions, glaring gloomily at the youth before him: “Jiang Qunyu! Have you lost your mind?”

The sinister voice inside his heart kept whispering relentlessly: Look at that, he really wants to leave you so badly. He doesn’t want to stay with you at all.

You brought this entirely upon yourself. Who told you to kill him time and time again? Even breaking through your bottleneck required his death to be achieved. Wei Xun, you deserve to die. You should return your life to him.

Or perhaps you should lock him up. As long as you lock him up, he won’t get hurt anymore in the future, and he can stay by your side forever and ever.

Jiang Qunyu blinked, unable to understand why Wei Xun had suddenly flared up with such rage. He had merely jumped down from the windowsill, and it wasn’t even the first time. Back when they were at the Ascending Firmament Sect, he used to jump down from the roof beams every single day, yet he had never seen Wei Xun act this way.

Seeing that Wei Xun had fallen silent again, his lips pressed into a tight, straight line and his face gloomily dark, Jiang Qunyu found it utterly baffling.

“I am perfectly normal,” Jiang Qunyu indicated for him to look ahead. “Look over there, why are there so many souls in this city?”

Wei Xun didn’t speak.

After a long time, he lowered his eyes. When he raised them again, his expression had already restored to its usual cold detachment.

Jiang Qunyu drew a bit closer, waving his hand in front of Wei Xun’s eyes: “Wei Xun, are you even listening to me?”

“Mm,” Wei Xun’s tone was calm as he raised his eyes to look in the direction Jiang Qunyu pointed out.

The entire city was eerily silent. Beneath the night sky, within the grand streets and small alleys, countless red phantoms were drifting about. The elderly, the weak, women, and children formed a dense, compact crowd—either wandering aimlessly or standing frozen like wooden blocks. Every single one of them was a soul devoid of life.

They were completely noiseless, drifting like dust in the night, wrapping the entire city in a deathly shroud of yin energy.

Wei Xun had completely regained his composure. With a slight focus of his divine sense, the Soul-Eater materialized in his hand. He walked in front, while Jiang Qunyu followed behind him.

Wei Xun walked listlessly, omitting certain details from his conversation with Cui Mingjin, choosing only the shareable parts to explain to Jiang Qunyu one by one.

Jiang Qunyu grew tired after walking for a while. Not wanting to take another step, he transformed back into a black fog ball, lazily resting atop Wei Xun’s jet-black hair.

After listening to the explanation, he said very angrily, “No wonder you wanted to burn down the City Lord’s manor.” He continued muttering, “So did he purposely lure us over that day? Could that Cloud Frost Sword also have been released by him intentionally?”

“Yes,” Wei Xun curled his lips coldly, his tone laced with malice. “If it weren’t for that fool Wen Xingyao, we wouldn’t have gone over there either.”

Jiang Qunyu had long grown accustomed to Wei Xun seizing every opportunity to hurl a few insults at Wen Xingyao. He couldn’t be bothered to argue with Wei Xun, merely asking out of curiosity, “Then what exactly is he trying to gain by doing this?”

Wei Xun fell silent.

“Are these ‘Grievance-Born Phantoms’ that Cui Mingjin spoke of truly entities from beyond the Five Realms?” Jiang Qunyu asked again.

The two walked amidst the city full of lonely souls. These souls merely drifted about without lingering in front of the pair, looking as if they were eternally trapped within a dream from which they could never awaken.

Clad in white robes, Wei Xun maintained a slow, light pace. After a moment of thought, he replied, “Perhaps.”

“They ought to be,” Jiang Qunyu said after a long silence.

Wei Xun paused almost imperceptibly. He half-lowered his eyelids and asked, “Why do you say that?”

Naturally, it was because these things were all able to see him. And he was indeed a soul from beyond the Five Realms, originating from another world entirely.

The only strange thing was that Wei Xun could also see these Grievance-Born Phantoms. He even intentionally or unintentionally steered clear of them as he walked.

Jiang Qunyu didn’t tell the truth, responding vaguely, “Intuition.”

Wei Xun smiled and said, “Since you say they are, then they must be.”

Jiang Qunyu wasn’t worried about whether Wei Xun would suspect him because of this. Since Wei Xun himself could see these Grievance-Born Phantoms, if he ever did face suspicion, at worst he could just pin it on his identity as an inner demon; it could be explained away either way.

The two walked through the city for a while.

The red phantoms all around them grew more and more numerous. They surged from all directions like a tide, as if being drawn by something, converging toward a single direction.

Resting atop Wei Xun’s head, Jiang Qunyu watched the slow moving trajectories of those souls and suddenly spoke up: “Are they… guiding us forward?”