ATAVID CH62

Jiang Qunyu pushed the door open and stepped out.

Outside, Yinzhu was just about to kick the door, but as it was pulled open from the inside, he lost his footing and stumbled forward, looking quite disheveled.

Jiang Qunyu sidestepped him gracefully and gave a low chuckle.

Yinzhu hurriedly steadied himself, his face turning an ashen green. The moment he looked up and saw who had opened the door, the anger in his eyes surged even more violently.

The person before him was dressed in green robes, his long hair tied back casually, with handsome features. The face that was usually as cold as ice was now curled into a smile, his brows and eyes even carrying a trace of lazy nonchalance.

Back in the cultivation world, Wei Xun had preferred plain white robes. Later, at some point, he grew to favor cold-toned clothing. Only when Jiang Qunyu possessed his body would this face wear other colors, which seemed rather discordant to the other demons—at least, that was the case for Yinzhu.

He squinted his eyes, examining Jiang Qunyu’s face carefully. Confirming that it was indeed Wei Xun, he sneered, “I thought you were some high-level demon from a prestigious clan, but I’ve had my people inquire everywhere, and I’ve never heard of any demonic lineage with the surname ‘Wei’.”

Yinzhu’s expression was grim, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “However, I have heard that in recent years, the Immortal Alliance of the cultivation world issued a bounty. A disciple of Lingxiao Sect named Wei Xun betrayed his sect, murdered his father, and destroyed his kin—a heinous crime. You share the same surname as him? What relationship do you have with him? Or is it…”

He paused, a flicker of malicious certainty rising in his eyes. “Are you him? You just hid in the Demon Realm and changed your identity to survive because you were fleeing the Immortal Alliance’s pursuit.”

Since entering Cloud Palace City, Wei Xun had stopped using his given name and only went by his courtesy name to the outside world.

Xun originally meant “by the water’s edge.”

His courtesy name was Guanlan, taken from the phrase, “He who has the method to observe water must observe its waves.”

Thus, now in the Demon Realm, everyone only knew of Wei Guanlan, and no one knew of Wei Xun.

Jiang Qunyu wasn’t stupid, so naturally, he wouldn’t admit to it.

He recalled the conversation he had vaguely heard earlier in the room between Yinzhu and his servants, and how Liang Yun and Mo Wudu had mentioned at the city gates that Vermilion Bird and Azure Dragon were biological brothers. He finally understood what kind of grudge Wei Xun had with him.

He sighed lightly, his tone filled with a deliberate, mocking regret as he laughed, “That’s a real shame. I’m just the low-level demon you spoke of. Your brother died under my sword; he probably felt quite aggrieved.”

Hearing this, Yinzhu’s eyes instantly flooded with crimson. He gripped his long whip so hard his knuckles turned white, his voice squeezed through his teeth: “You’re courting death! How dare you still mention my brother?!”

“Why wouldn’t I dare?” Jiang Qunyu laughed.

He lifted his hand, palm upward, and a blood-colored scythe suddenly materialized. The blade gleamed with a cold, sharp light, reflecting the restless excitement in his eyes. “Not only did I mention him, but I also intend to beat you up on his behalf.”

This “flower peacock” clearly hadn’t been raised well by his family and was used to being domineering, which was why he resorted to violence at the drop of a hat.

Except for the fight between Wei Xun and his brother ten days ago, Yinzhu wasn’t familiar with Wei Xun’s sword techniques or moves.

He wasn’t stupid, so he naturally didn’t want to rush forward to his death. His gaze sharpened, signaling his demonic subordinates to attack first.

But the demonic attendants behind him were caught in a dilemma—they were both Guardians; offending either one meant death. Thus, they didn’t dare to step forward, standing in place with pale faces.

Seeing this, Yinzhu’s expression darkened until it looked like it could drip water. “A bunch of trash!”

With that, he flicked his long whip, imbued with killing intent, straight at the attendant closest to him.

However, before the whip could land, it was blocked by a horizontal strike of the Red Scythe. The blade and the whip collided, sparking dazzling flashes.

Immediately after, the scythe blade slid down the length of the whip, aiming directly for Yinzhu’s fingers.

Yinzhu abruptly withdrew his hand, the whip coiling back and drawing an arc in the air.

Jiang Qunyu stood in front of the attendant, giggling, “Oh dear, oh dear, didn’t you want to fight me? Bullying others in front of me—what kind of skill is that?”

Yinzhu’s face grew even uglier. He formed hand seals, and his whip suddenly burst into fierce flames. The entire whip expanded, transforming into a flaming peacock spreading its tail, its feathers arrogant and engulfed in surging fire.

The next moment, the burning peacock feathers whistled through the air, shooting toward Jiang Qunyu like a torrential rain.

Jiang Qunyu didn’t dodge. With a flourish of his Red Scythe, scarlet demonic energy erupted, and the shadow of the scythe split into dozens of blades, slicing all the peacock feathers to pieces. The remaining force did not dissipate, and the scythe shadows surged toward Yinzhu like a tide, forcing him to retreat several steps until he crashed ungracefully into the courtyard wall behind him.

Yinzhu coughed up a mouthful of blood, a thick, impenetrable gloom covering his face.

He gripped his whip tightly, his resentful gaze fixed on Jiang Qunyu. Just as he was struggling to stand up to attack again, a voice filled with immense pressure pierced through the void, landing clearly in everyone’s ears.

“Enough.”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it was like a basin of cold water poured down, instantly freezing the killing intent in the entire courtyard.

Jiang Qunyu was stunned. Before he could recall whose voice it was, Yinzhu had already knelt on the ground, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Demon Lord.”

Jiang Qunyu instantly remembered; he had seen the Old Demon Lord’s appearance when he and Wei Xun first entered the city. He looked like he suffered from excessive indulgence, giving the impression he was nearing death, but apparently, the Old Demon Lord had looked that way for over a hundred years and still hadn’t died.

From the void, the Old Demon Lord’s voice sounded lazily, laced with a cold edge: “Vermilion Bird, do you no longer take my words to heart? If you insist on fighting, then you shall take the Azure Dragon’s place in the arena in one month.”

Yinzhu stiffened at these words.

He remembered the ferocious beasts the Old Demon Lord kept; even his brother… had nearly ended up with no corpse left.

If it hadn’t been for the Old Demon Lord suddenly waving his hand to call a halt at the last moment, his brother would have become food for those beasts decades ago—it wouldn’t have even been Wei Xun’s turn to act.

Although his brother eventually died under Wei Xun’s sword, that was due to underestimating his opponent. The thought of facing the beasts in the arena sent a chill through Yinzhu’s heart.

With this thought in mind, he gritted his teeth, unwillingly retracting his whip, and lowered his eyes to hide the surging malice and resentment. “…This subordinate does not dare.”

The voice in the void faded away.

After a long while, Yinzhu stood up. His face pale, he fixed his gaze on Jiang Qunyu’s face, and with bitter hatred, he enunciated every word: “Wei Guanlan, one day, I will kill you with my own hands.”

After saying this, he turned and strode away.

The demonic attendants behind him followed like beaten dogs. As the sound of their footsteps faded, the courtyard returned to its previous quiet.

However, though everyone else had left, one demonic attendant remained kneeling on the spot.

The whip wound on his face had stopped bleeding, but he stubbornly looked up at Jiang Qunyu, refusing to get up.

Jiang Qunyu asked him, “Why haven’t you left?”

The demonic attendant pressed his lips together, his tone resolute: “This subordinate wishes to follow the Guardian.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Wei Xun, who had been silent for a long time, spoke up, his brows dark and his tone as cold as ice: “Jiang Qunyu, refuse him.”

Jiang Qunyu looked at Wei Xun as if he were an idiot: “I went through the trouble of saving him; besides, haven’t you heard that those who want to accomplish great things must cultivate their own trusted aides?”

Wei Xun said expressionlessly, “I don’t need them.”

“Your becoming the Demon Lord is the same as me becoming the Demon Lord, right?” Jiang Qunyu retorted righteously. “You don’t want to, but I want to experience the thrill. Once you actually take that position, let me be the Demon Lord for a few days every month to play.”

And so, Jiang Qunyu ignored Wei Xun.

He squatted down and asked the demonic youth who looked no older than his teens: “What is your name?”

The youth raised his eyes, his gaze bright: “Xie Chuan.”

“Oh,” Jiang Qunyu nodded. “Alright, then you can follow me from now on.”

The demonic youth—or rather, Xie Chuan—immediately brightened. “This subordinate will protect the Master well in the future.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

He changed his title quite quickly.

Wei Xun glanced at Xie Chuan lethargically, his thin lips pressed into a line, a faint hint of displeasure flashing through his eyes.

According to his original plan, even if Jiang Qunyu hadn’t intervened, he would have saved this youth.

Just as Jiang Qunyu said, he needed to gather a group of forces that truly belonged to him and weren’t just useless baggage.

This youth had decent potential, and with some training, he could likely serve as a Demon General in the future.

But for some reason, he didn’t like the way this youth looked at Jiang Qunyu.

Or rather, he didn’t like anyone being closer to Jiang Qunyu than he was.

Even the “himself” from the illusion was unacceptable, let alone anyone else.

But if he acted on those feelings, Jiang Qunyu would be unhappy. So, Wei Xun had to lower his eyes, masking his dark emotions.

Jiang Qunyu didn’t notice Wei Xun at all. Looking at the youth, he felt the name “Xie Chuan” was quite familiar, though he couldn’t remember where he had heard it.

That night, as he lay on the bed and was about to fall asleep, it suddenly hit him. Xie Chuan—wasn’t he the number one general under Wei Xun in the original book?

After Wei Xun became the Demon Lord, he became the Right Emissary by his side.

It was even he who found the love-poison on Shen Peiqiu for Wei Xun.

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

Why did it feel like everything was moving toward the original plot? Or were things meant to happen if they were in the original plot?

In the blink of an eye, another year passed.

During this year, Jiang Qunyu had only seen Wei Xun three times.

The first time, he was covered in wounds.

Jiang Qunyu looked at the various injuries on his body, pursing his lips, feeling inexplicably angry.

“It’s fine if I beat you up normally, but when those beasts bite you, why don’t you fight back?”

Wei Xun lay on the bed, his white robes as white as snow—Jiang Qunyu hadn’t seen him wear white for a long time and couldn’t help but stare.

The youth smiled, his eyes holding a soft glimmer: “How do you know I didn’t fight back? It’s just that it isn’t the time to kill that old thing yet, so I have to endure it, along with the animals around him, until a few days from now.”

Jiang Qunyu went off to stew in his own anger.

The second time, he passed out.

Xie Chuan had carried him into the room.

It was as if Wei Xun had instructed him beforehand; after Xie Chuan placed him on the bed, he left without lingering.

Jiang Qunyu crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, watching coldly without the slightest intention of checking Wei Xun’s injuries.

He thought that if he wasn’t afraid of dying, then let him die; it had nothing to do with him anyway. He stood there for a while, turned, and went back to his own room, slamming the door shut with a loud thud.

But in the second half of the night, Jiang Qunyu couldn’t help it after all. Restlessly climbing out of bed, grabbing his hair, he walked barefoot across the cool floor to Wei Xun’s bed. Treating it as his own misfortune, he dug out the best healing pills from his storage bag, forcibly stuffed them into Wei Xun’s mouth, and tossed a few cleansing spells on him to clear away the blood and filth.

Fearing that if this bastard actually died, he would die along with him, he leaped up to the rafters and made do with sleeping there for the night.

When Wei Xun woke up, Jiang Qunyu didn’t know.

He only knew that when he woke, Wei Xun was sitting cross-legged on the bed in a relaxed posture, one hand propping up his head, the other poking his face.

Jiang Qunyu didn’t ask how he got onto the bed; he lay down while Wei Xun sat.

Wei Xun looked down at him. Jiang Qunyu didn’t move, lying flat and meeting his gaze. After a moment, he reached out, gripped his wrist, pushed that hand away from his face, and asked, “When will you break through the realm?”

Wei Xun didn’t speak.

The third time, perhaps because the demonic energy in his spiritual consciousness could no longer be suppressed, he broke through the realm.

Fourth Layer of the Void Refining stage.

Jiang Qunyu was lying on the bed reading a script when the door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

Summer in the Demon Realm was neither cold nor hot; there was an unidentifiable fragrance in the night breeze, drifting in faintly.

Wei Xun stood at the doorway. The cold moonlight poured in from behind him, stretching his shadow into a long, lonely shape that extended all the way to Jiang Qunyu’s feet.

The youth’s face was pale to the point of being translucent—utterly ghastly—and there was almost no color on his lips.

Jiang Qunyu had been reading a captivating part and subconsciously looked up upon hearing the sound.

Wei Xun strode forward, leaned down, and scooped him up into his arms.

He held him so tightly that it hurt Jiang Qunyu.

The book in Jiang Qunyu’s hand fell, hitting the floor with a “patter”—an exceptionally clear sound in the silent night.

He blinked his eyes gently, finally finding the source of that unknown fragrance, and asked, “Wei Xun, are you hurt?”

How strange. Clearly, after breaking through the realm, no matter how severe the injuries were, they should have healed rapidly.

Was Wei Xun severely injured?

Wei Xun buried his face in the crook of his neck and didn’t speak.

To forcibly suppress the uncontrollable power, he had stabbed himself in the heart three times. But in the end, he had still broken through.

Luckily… luckily Jiang Qunyu hadn’t disappeared.

27th year of Xiping.

Wei Xun killed the Old Demon Lord and personally shoved him into the arena.

That Demon Lord, who had entrenched himself in the Demon Realm for a hundred years, finally died in the mouths of the beasts he had kept, leaving no bones behind.

In the same year, Wei Xun ascended to the throne of the Demon Lord, becoming the new Master of the Demon Realm.