ATAVID CH86

Jiang Qunyu had truly never anticipated running into Wen Xingyao in a place like this.

How many years had it been since they last crossed paths? From the twenty-second year of Xiping to the 125th year of Changning, it had been nearly two centuries.

In the past, they could occasionally exchange a few words using communication jade slips. Yet, receiving spiritual messages across a vast distance could never compare to the staggering reality of seeing each other face-to-face.

The pampered young master who used to whine daily about the sheer grueling misery of cultivation had grown into a man with a sharply defined, handsome visage and a profoundly stable circulation of spiritual energy. He had truly become a cultivator worthy of the path to the high heavens. Though, from the looks of it, he still seemed just as lacking in the brains department as ever.

The moment Wen Xingyao noticed a newcomer, he immediately strained his hoarse vocal cords and wailed miserably, “Help! Help me! This young master was merely following my Master’s orders to deliver a stray soul to the River of Forgetfulness! How dare you ghosts of the Nine Underworlds lock me up here?! Do you have any idea who my Master is?!”

The corner of Jiang Qunyu’s mouth twitched imperceptibly.

Alright. After all these centuries, Wen Xingyao hadn’t changed a single bit.

Since Wen Xingyao had never seen his true appearance in this current vessel, it stood to reason that he wouldn’t recognize him. Given how treacherous this environment was, it was hardly the time or place for a nostalgic reunion. Therefore, Jiang Qunyu chose to play along and act like a total stranger.

The sickly young man on the couch appeared thoroughly exasperated by the noise. With a casual flick of his wrist, he cast a Silence Curse, expressionlessly spitting out two words: “Shut up.”

The agonizing wails echoing through the room ceased instantly.

Jiang Qunyu redirected his attention toward the young man, who simultaneously turned his sharp gaze back to him. As their eyes locked, a suffocating aura of absolute dominance slowly permeated the room.

After a long silence, a mocking sneer slowly curled the young man’s lips. Tilting his eyes up slightly, he parted his lips to speak with an air of casual, arrogant condescension: “Ha. What exactly is your relationship with Wei观瀾?”

His gaze swept over Jiang Qunyu’s form as if penetrating some deeply hidden secret, his tone growing increasingly certain. “He seems to have placed some sort of restriction on you. Even though you are a mere cultivator at the Nascent Soul Stage, you can still stand here completely unfazed, maintaining your composure under my personal pressure—even while those Mahayana or Spirit Severing Stage ghost cultivators were forced to their knees in submission.”

Jiang Qunyu remained silent for a moment. Refusing to grant him a direct answer, he merely threw a cold glare back at him and countered with a question of his own: “What is your relationship with him? Why has he locked you away in this place?”

The young man didn’t take offense. Instead, he arched an eyebrow, offering a teasing smirk. “You were eavesdropping beneath the floorboards for quite some time just now. You ought to know the answer to that.”

He offered a sinister laugh. “I am Qin Shiyue, the True Lord of the Netherworld Palace. As for why I am imprisoned here… didn’t he tell you?”

He deliberately paused, looking at Jiang Qunyu with a gaze that held a hint of wicked amusement. “Well, it seems he doesn’t regard you with much importance after all.”

“Very well.” Qin Shiyue withdrew his smile. “I have finished speaking. In the spirit of reciprocity, it is your turn.”

Jiang Qunyu replied in a flat, even tone, “Jiang Yu. As for whether he placed a restriction on me, I have no idea.”

He was genuinely telling the truth. After all, the realization that Wei Xun might actually harbor romantic feelings for him—let alone the fact that the man held him and kissed him at night—was something he had only discovered quite recently.

Upon hearing his alias, Qin Shiyue blanked for a fraction of a second. His narrow eyes constricted slightly. After a prolonged silence, he suddenly threw his head back and erupted into a booming fit of laughter: “Haha—hahaha!”

He laughed so hard that tears began to well up in his eyes. He then pointed a finger at the utterly aggrieved and furious Wen Xingyao. “Oh, I remember you now. You were the one who was supposed to be sent into the Soul-Locking Palace before him under the pretext of warding off bad luck.”

Saying this, Qin Shiyue’s eyes flashed with a sudden surge of intense curiosity as he looked back at Jiang Qunyu. “Was your date of birth perhaps on the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month?”

Jiang Qunyu thought to himself: I was merely sent here by City Lord Jiang to act as a substitute bride for his unfilial son.

However, since he was determined to extract more information out of Qin Shiyue, he didn’t bother to deny it. He simply raised his eyes to meet the man’s gaze straight on. “And what of it?”

“What of it?!” Qin Shiyue abruptly surged to his feet, his bare feet slamming onto the freezing stone floor. A violent torrent of dark energy erupted around him, and his handsome features instantly twisted into an expression of sheer malice. The playful teasing from before vanished entirely, replaced by a raw, boiling venom.

“That absolute bastard, Wei观瀾! In order to get his hands on that specific item, he actually dared to threaten me! Time and time again, he deliberately sent spiritual mediums born on the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month—vessels of ultimate yin energy—straight to me! He clearly intends to use that concentrated yin energy to slowly corrode my cultivation and force me to hand the item over to him! Ha! He can keep dreaming!”

Hearing this, Jiang Qunyu’s immediate thought was that it finally made sense why the ghost attendants kept murmuring about how the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month was an ill-omened date, yet the ghost elders were forced to specifically hunt for spiritual mediums born on that exact day. It had been orchestrated by Wei Xun all along. Such underhanded, calculated ruthlessness was precisely what Wei Xun was capable of.

However, even though he also found Wei Xun incredibly vexing, hearing Qin Shiyue hurl such vitriol at the man kindled an unbidden spark of fury within his chest. The more he looked at Qin Shiyue, the more irritated he became. Moving his fingers slightly, he focused his mind and summoned Shahun.

The blood-red scythe sliced through the void, hurtling directly toward Qin Shiyue’s face with a ferocious, whistling tear through the air.

The attack materialized so suddenly that despite Qin Shiyue’s immense cultivation, he failed to dodge it flawlessly. He instinctively jerked his head to the side, but the razor-sharp edge still grazed his cheek. It left a shallow yet deep laceration, and brilliant crimson beads of blood instantly welled up against his deathly pale skin, looking exceptionally stark.

Qin Shiyue froze in utter disbelief. He couldn’t comprehend how he, a powerful entity, had actually been harmed by a mere demon at the Nascent Soul Stage. Slowly raising his hand, he traced the wound with his fingertips. Looking at the smear of blood, his expression became incredibly warped.

Jiang Qunyu stated with absolute bluntness, “You have a foul mouth.”

Only then did Qin Shiyue fully register what had happened. He let out a sharp, furious laugh before his gaze hardened, locking onto Jiang Qunyu with a calculated intent to sow discord. “…You have barely known him for a few days. Do you have any idea that if he hadn’t intervened, the person you would be calling ‘husband’ right now would be me?”

Jiang Qunyu remained completely expressionless. His heartbeat was perfectly steady, though a wave of profound annoyance washed over him.

Fuck. Who does this short-lived bastard think he’s trying to hit on? I’d still prefer Wei Xun over this guy. At the very least, I don’t find Wei Xun repulsive.

At the same time, he didn’t forget to correct the man’s choice of words: “He is the one who calls me ‘husband.'”

The expression on Qin Shiyue’s face grew even more bizarre as he evaluated Jiang Qunyu from head to toe. “Do you actually harbor affection for him?”

Jiang Qunyu was currently in a deeply conflicted state of mind himself, so he naturally couldn’t provide an answer to that question. Losing his patience entirely, he simply wanted to find out what item Wei Xun was trying to obtain from the True Lord of the Netherworld Palace—the very reason Wei Xun had gone to such lengths to bring Xie Chuan here and execute a literal identity theft.

He offered a deliberately ambiguous reply: “He and I have only known each other for three days.”

Qin Shiyue pondered the statement for a moment, automatically interpreting it as a lack of affection. His tone instantly turned cheerful. “True. If I were in your position, I would loathe that demon lord to the absolute core. After all, if not for him, you wouldn’t have been dragged into the Nine Underworlds just because of your birthdate, forced to serve as his cultivation furnace to be used at his whim.”

Jiang Qunyu was highly curious about why this man hadn’t tried to kill him yet, opting instead to guide him through a series of leading questions. Eager to discover his true motive, he channeled every ounce of his acting skills, lowering his voice to a soft, vulnerable murmur: “…A cultivation furnace.”

Acting as though the horrors of his experiences over the past few days had suddenly caught up to him, he abruptly clenched his fists, his nails digging deeply into his palms. When he lifted his head, a perfectly crafted look of bone-deep hatred flashed through his eyes, looking exactly like a victim whose most agonizing wound had just been ripped open. Following Qin Shiyue’s lead, he rasped out, “You are right. I ought to loathe him.”

Seeing this display, Qin Shiyue smiled with immense satisfaction, continuing his venomous manipulation: “Precisely. That is exactly how it should be. You are nothing but a furnace to him. There is something you likely do not know—you carry the bloodline of the Spirit Deer Clan within your veins. I cannot quite identify the remaining traces of your aura just yet, but your physical constitution is a pure spiritual vessel, an anomaly that appears once in ten thousand years. You are the ultimate furnace for advancing one’s cultivation.”

“His marriage to you has absolutely nothing to do with genuine affection. He merely lusts after your physical vessel, desiring to exploit your unique constitution to break through his own cultivation bottlenecks.”

Jiang Qunyu froze momentarily upon hearing those words.

He didn’t believe for a single second that Wei Xun harbored such transactional intentions, but he was deeply intrigued by the mention of the Spirit Deer Clan bloodline.

Spirit Deer blood? Wasn’t Shen Peiqiu supposed to be the absolute last surviving member of the Spirit Deer Clan in the original plot? How did I end up possessing that exact same constitution after my resurrection?

Then, a sudden realization struck him—the Spirit Deer Clan was naturally endowed with desires and sensory responses that were far more intense than ordinary cultivators.

Does that mean… over the past few days, every single time Wei Xun drew close to me or kissed me, those uncontrollable flutters and chaotic pounding in my chest weren’t born from my true feelings at all? Was it merely this physical vessel’s innate Spirit Deer bloodline acting up?

Seeing him descend into a long silence, Qin Shiyue’s lips curved into a smug smirk. “You loathe him, and I have been imprisoned here by his hands, harboring a hatred that sears my very bones. Since we share a common enemy, why don’t we forge an alliance to eliminate that demon lord together? What does Young Master Jiang think of my proposition?”

Jiang Qunyu lowered his eyes to conceal the profound mockery dancing within them, his voice remaining flat and devoid of emotion. “And if I choose to decline? Will you kill me?”

Qin Shiyue replied in an ominous whisper, “You are free to refuse. However, tell me… if I were to lay a hand on you, and Wei观瀾 were to find out, do you think he would let you live? After all, an entity like him would never tolerate someone else touching his personal property.”

Jiang Qunyu remained expressionless, though a cold surge of killing intent filled his chest. I really want to slaughter this guy right now.

“Oh,” he muttered coldly, suppressing his lethal urge. “I can assist you. But you must agree to one condition of mine.”

Seeing him finally yield and agree to the terms, the smile on Qin Shiyue’s face widened significantly, and the oppressive aura saturating the room dissipated entirely. He walked over to stand right in front of Jiang Qunyu, his stance dripping with supreme arrogance. “Name it. As long as it lies within my capabilities, I shall grant it.”

Without a hint of hesitation, Jiang Qunyu raised his hand and pointed straight at the captive beside them. “I want him.”

The moment the words left his mouth, both of the remaining individuals in the room froze in absolute shock.

Wen Xingyao snapped his head up in disbelief. His eyes rimmed with red, and he stared at Jiang Qunyu with a mixture of profound shock and immense gratitude, letting out a series of muffled whimpers through the silence spell. He had clearly never expected a total stranger to risk everything to save his life in a situation like this.

Qin Shiyue furrowed his brows, utterly perplexed. “Why him?”

“Well,” Jiang Qunyu idly twirled the red scythe, Shahun, around his fingertips. “You can put it down to simple pity. After all, he is just as unfortunate as I am—dragged into this godforsaken place to ward off bad luck for no reason at all.”

Qin Shiyue remained silent.

Jiang Qunyu pushed further: “I am offering to break you out of this Soul-Locking Palace. In exchange, you only have to part with a cultivator who is entirely inconsequential to your plans. Why refuse? This transaction is entirely in your favor.”

Qin Shiyue stared intently at Jiang Qunyu for a long time, attempting to detect any hidden motives behind his calm expression. Finding nothing but an icy composure, he weighed his options and finally nodded his head. “Very well. I agree.”

Having secured the agreement, Jiang Qunyu didn’t spare Qin Shiyue another glance. Striding straight past him, he walked over to Wen Xingyao and knelt down to unfasten the restrictive ropes binding his wrists.

Likely due to his frantic struggling earlier, Wen Xingyao’s wedding robes were in a state of complete disarray. The collar was yanked askew, exposing patches of his fair skin, and there were numerous tiny cuts and abrasions peppering his arms and neck, making him look exceptionally pathetic.

Jiang Qunyu’s gaze lingered briefly on the young man’s swollen, chafed wrists. He then cast a quick look at his entirely uninjured knees before hauling him up to his feet.

Behind them, Qin Shiyue suddenly spoke up, his voice sharp with caution: “To ensure absolute compliance, I require you to forge a Life-and-Death Curse with me. We shall bind ourselves to this vow, and there shall be no turning back.”

“Fine,” Jiang Qunyu raised three fingers, enunciating every single word with cold precision. “If Jiang Yu should breach this contract today or act with treachery, let my soul be shattered into nothingness, never to enter the cycle of reincarnation. Let this vow be witnessed by the Heavenly Dao and verified by both gods and demons alike.”

Hearing the sheer severity of the oath, Wen Xingyao began to shake his head frantically at Jiang Qunyu in sheer terror.

Jiang Qunyu patted him reassuringly before turning back to look at the True Lord. “Are you satisfied now?”

The Life-and-Death Curse was a binding verbal contract utilized within the cultivation world to strictly enforce compliance and completely eliminate any possibility of betrayal. The vow was directly overseen by the Heavenly Dao itself. The very instant the words left a cultivator’s mouth, any subsequent violation would cause the curse to detonate within their meridians, leaving absolutely zero chance of survival.

Though a shred of suspicion still lingered within Qin Shiyue’s mind, he had been trapped here for over a century. This was his sole opportunity to secure his freedom. After a brief internal struggle, he finally gave a firm nod and stated his requirement: “You need only retrieve the key that Wei觀瀾 carries on his person at all times. That key is the only thing capable of shattering the restrictions on the iron chains binding my ankles.”

Jiang Qunyu swept a glance over the heavy chains wrapped around his ankles, deducing that Wei Xun had likely woven some complex arrays into the metal, rendering standard spiritual weapons completely useless against them. He offered a simple nod. “Understood.”

“Do you not desire to know exactly what it is that Wei觀瀾 wishes to extract from me?” Seeking to secure his leverage, Qin Shiyue added a final condition, his eyes sharp with scrutiny. “On the very day you deliver that key to me, I shall lay bare every single secret regarding his plot.”

Jiang Qunyu replied smoothly, “…Deal.”

I’ll just agree to it for now anyway. Whatever ‘Jiang Yu’ promised has absolutely nothing to do with me, Jiang Qunyu.

Furthermore, he wasn’t even a native entity of this particular world. Let the Heavenly Dao oversee it all it wanted, or let gods and demons verify it to their hearts’ content; if the universe ever decided to enforce the penalty, the backlash would never be able to trace its way back to his true soul. As for the key on Wei Xun’s body… if he felt like handing it over when the time came, he would. If he didn’t feel like it, who could possibly force his hand?

Carrying absolutely zero psychological burden, Jiang Qunyu hauled Wen Xingyao along and departed under Qin Shiyue’s deeply expectant gaze.

Qin Shiyue had likely relayed some instructions to the ghost cultivators stationed outside, because Jiang Qunyu was able to walk right out of the compound completely unhindered.

The night sky was as dark as a splash of ink, punctuated only by a sparse scattering of dim stars.

The moment they were a safe distance away, Jiang Qunyu dispelled the silence spell on Wen Xingyao. An abrupt thought flashed through his mind—what time is it right now? It should be… fine, right?

Having been forced into silence for so long, the moment Wen Xingyao regained his voice, he burst into a loud, frantic sob: “Waaah! I really thought I was going to die back there! You are truly such an incredibly good person!”

Tears poured down his face in heavy streams. He wept loudly for a good while before finally managing to catch his breath, looking at his savior with a expression filled with immense anxiety. “Y-You really shouldn’t have sworn that Life-and-Death Curse just now! Do you have any idea how terrifying it is? Once that curse is set, if you fail to fulfill your end of the bargain, your soul will literally shatter into nothingness!”

“And… your name sounds so incredibly similar to a dear friend of mine. It’s only a single character apart. If he hadn’t passed away over a hundred years ago, I would have genuinely believed you were him.” The more Wen Xingyao spoke, the more overwhelmed by sorrow he became. The memory of the long-departed Jiang Qunyu made his nose sting with fresh tears. Looking at the ‘Jiang Yu’ before him, he felt the man was in extreme peril, facing a grim and uncertain fate.

Furthermore, he couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling that the name ‘Wei觀瀾’ sounded exceptionally familiar, though he couldn’t recall where he had heard it before. However, with his mind entirely consumed by the urgent need to rescue his savior, he quickly cast that fleeting doubt aside and pressed on: “My Master is the Lord of the Immortal Alliance. He will absolutely be able to find a way to sever the restrictions of that Life-and-Death Curse for you! This Nine Underworlds region is riddled with extreme danger. If you don’t object to it, you can escape this place with me. I will take you back to the safety of the Immortal Alliance.”

The Immortal Alliance?

Jiang Qunyu froze mid-step, a sudden wave of turbulent emotions surging through his chest.

He recalled what Qin Shiyue had revealed just moments ago—that this body carried the bloodline of the Spirit Deer Clan. Yet, according to the original plot line of the novel, wasn’t Shen Peiqiu supposed to be the absolute last surviving member of that clan? If he could confront Shen Peiqiu directly, the man might actually hold the answers to this mystery.

More importantly, it would allow him to deduce whether the chaotic fluttering and erratic pounding of his heart whenever Wei Xun drew near was a genuine reflection of his own feelings, or if it was merely the innate power of this vessel’s Spirit Deer bloodline messing with his senses.

Most of all, ever since he discovered the truth behind Wei Xun’s nocturnal activities, he found himself utterly flustered, overwhelmed, and completely at a loss whenever he faced the man. This presented the absolute perfect opportunity to slip away, put some distance between them, and properly sort out the chaotic tangled knot of his own thoughts.

“Stop crying,” Jiang Qunyu muttered, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He parted his lips, fully intending to accept Wen Xingyao’s offer.

Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind swept through the courtyard, causing the surrounding leaves to rustle violently. An icy, suffocating chill instantly blanketed the entire space.

Jiang Qunyu’s heart skipped a beat, a massive wave of absolute, terrifying pressure crashing over him, leaving his entire body rigid and paralyzed with tension. He instinctively spun around, his gaze darting toward the source of the oppressive energy.

Standing quietly within the deep shadows a short distance away was a tall, imposing figure. A dense, suffocating aura of deathly ghost energy swirled violently around his form. His features were cold and detached, his expression completely devoid of warmth.

Wei Xun stood there, his dark eyes locked onto Jiang Qunyu with a heavy, freezing gaze that carried a bone-chilling numbness. The thin line of his lips curved into an incredibly faint, razor-sharp smirk.

His chillingly deep voice pierced through the howling wind like a specter, every single word landing with absolute, resonant clarity. The name he had hesitated to utter for so long finally tore past his lips.

Tweaking his lips into a dark smile, he demanded: “Jiang Qunyu, where exactly are you trying to run off to now?”