ATAVID CH27

He tilted his head slightly to the left, wanting to bypass Wei Xun and continue watching the excitement.

Wei Xun followed by shifting half a step to the left.

Jiang Qunyu went right.

Wei Xun also went right.

Separated by a distance of half a step, the two of them looked like they were dancing some bizarre duo dance.

Jiang Qunyu finally couldn’t help it: “…What are you doing?”

Wei Xun didn’t even turn his head, his tone carrying coldness: “Jiang Qunyu, this kind of person who looks innocent and stupid is often poisonous.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

From a certain perspective, what Wei Xun said wasn’t wrong either.

If Su Fuyao truly was an innocent and pure little white flower¹, Lan Yuanzhou and Shen Peiqiu wouldn’t have almost ended up breaking off relations until old age and death.

He had actually read quite a bit of those convoluted Shura fields in the original book.

It was just that it had nothing to do with him.

It didn’t hinder him from watching the excitement, right?!

Su Fuyao was originally brimming with confidence; he had tried this trick many times and it always worked perfectly.

Yet that soft and gentle show of goodwill landed on the ground like a drop of water seeping into the sand, not even making a sound.

Because Wei Xun wasn’t looking at him at all.

Not only was he not looking, he was spacing out.

His gaze landed nowhere in particular, his expression faint, as if he was thinking about some other matter.

The smile on Su Fuyao’s face stiffened for a moment.

He had lived for over twenty years and had never been left hanging out to dry by someone like this.

His cheeks burned faintly, as if someone had slapped him in public.

Seeing his junior brother’s tottering figure, Cen He’s face became even uglier.

He stepped forward half a pace, about to open his mouth, but his arm was gently pressed down by Su Fuyao.

That hand was slender and fair, yet the fingertips exerted a slight force, as if suppressing something.

Su Fuyao took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing his grievance, and signaled his senior brother to stay calm and not be impatient.

He blinked his eyes, forcing that bit of tearfulness back somewhat.

He couldn’t cry; crying too early would make him lose the upper hand instead.

The watery glint in his eyes hadn’t completely faded, yet the corners of his mouth were already curved into an appropriate arc, as if nothing had happened just now.

He bypassed the stone stool, took two steps forward, his voice still that soft: “This young master, did you two also just enter the city?”

Jiang Qunyu was worried Wei Xun would keep blocking him.

So he directly transformed into the appearance of a black mist ball and lay prone on top of Wei Xun’s head.

Wei Xun’s face darkened, and he raised his hand, about to pull him down and stuff him into his chest.

His ink-black hair fluttered gently in the wind, along with the blue silk ribbon binding it.

Sensing his intent, Jiang Qunyu muttered in a low voice: “Don’t pull me. If you pull me, what if someone among them realizes my existence?”

Wei Xun’s hand paused.

After a long while, he lowered his hand expressionlessly, acting as if nothing grew on the top of his head.

Only, when he looked at Su Fuyao again, his eyes were a few fractions colder than before.

He parted his thin lips slightly, faintly replying with a single word: “Mm.”

Just one word.

He didn’t even lift his eyelids.

Su Fuyao was still waiting for Wei Xun’s follow-up.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyelashes trembling lightly, putting on the most docile and harmless posture, waiting for the other party to say a few more words.

But Wei Xun merely shot him a glance, and then—

Lifted his foot and walked away.

He truly walked away.

Just like that, right in front of everyone, he walked toward that wooden building on the right side without looking back.

His pace was unhurried, his back straight as a pine.

Fragmented sunlight fell on the bluestone ground, and his shadow was stretched very long, extending all the way from under the tree to the front of the porch.

Su Fuyao’s smile completely fell apart.

He stood in place, watching that white-clothed back figure walk further and further away, feeling as if something in his heart had cracked open.

He was about to cry; how could this person be so cold?!

But the more it was like this, the more he refused to let it go.

He raised his eyes to look at Wei Xun, this time scrutinizing him carefully.

From the shoulder line to the waist, from the waist to the pace, and finally landing on the spot where he had just stood.

Just now, being close, he had actually already sensed that this person had no spiritual power fluctuations around his body.

But so what?

He thought much more than Cen He.

Cen He only saw that his meridians were destroyed and he couldn’t cultivate, so he determined the other party was an ant.

But Su Fuyao didn’t think so.

This person’s aura was aloof and noble; no matter how you looked at it, he didn’t seem like a mortal.

Perhaps he was a disciple of some other sect who took some spiritual artifact to deliberately conceal his cultivation?

But if he truly was just a mortal—let alone a mortal, he should be a cripple.

If he knew they were inner sect disciples of the Profound Sword Sect, would he still dare to be so arrogant?

He was afraid that when the time came, he would just be like the other senior brothers and sisters, eagerly crowding around to flatter him.

However, this person was handsome. If he could make him follow him back to the sect to look at every day, it would be quite a pleasing thing to the eyes and heart.

Once he got tired of playing with him, he could just throw him away.

Su Fuyao lightly sneered in his heart, yet his face became increasingly gentle and soft.

He walked quickly forward, reaching out and grabbing Wei Xun’s sleeve.

His fingertips touched that section of moon-white fabric, soft and cool.

Wei Xun’s footsteps halted.

Jiang Qunyu, lying on top of Wei Xun’s head: “…”

Wen Xingyao, who had just had his heart completely broken by Wei Xun and was silently following behind: “…”

Seeing this, the two of them thought simultaneously: We’re doomed.

Jiang Qunyu gulped down a mouthful of saliva. He was lying high up, so he saw clearly.

The lines on the back of Wei Xun’s neck suddenly went taut, and even his shoulders and back stiffened for a moment; the aura surrounding his body dropped a few degrees colder.

With Wei Xun’s germaphobic temperament, wouldn’t he truly just kill Su Fuyao directly?

But Su Fuyao was still courting death.

The corners of his eyes drooped slightly, the corners of his lips curved into an appropriate arc, looking like a pear blossom lingering on a branch about to fall, evoking tender pity.

He said: “Young Master, since we are living together in the West Courtyard, we won’t be able to avoid meeting in the future. We haven’t yet asked for the esteemed names of you two?”

Wen Xingyao watched, dumbfounded.

He opened his mouth, cursing inwardly: Your uncle’s, you’re asking for names, why are you grabbing his sleeve? Why don’t you just ask me directly…

Don’t touch Wei Xun!

But right now, Su Fuyao’s entire heart and eyes were focused on taking Wei Xun down; his gaze stuck to Wei Xun’s face, looking as if he wanted to stare a hole into it.

Wen Xingyao didn’t provoke him.

Fine.

“Let go.” Wei Xun turned sideways, lowered his eyes to look at the hand gripping his sleeve, frost condensing on his brows and eyes.

In his eyes was undisguised disgust, wrapped in a chilling coldness steeped in ice. His tone became increasingly impolite, “Won’t be able to avoid meeting in the future?”

He said: “Not knowing life from death and lacking perceptiveness, perhaps you won’t live for very long?”

As the words fell, the surroundings fell dead silent.

Su Fuyao seemed to have never thought Wei Xun’s words would be so harsh, his face turning pale with a “swoosh.”

What did he mean ‘won’t live for very long’? What did he mean ‘not knowing life from death’?

He subconsciously let go of Wei Xun, only to see Wei Xun act as if he had been touched by something dirty, frowning and staring at the spot he had just grabbed.

Su Fuyao had never been treated like this before, his cheeks stinging hotly.

The group of Profound Sword Sect disciples behind him also had anger rising in their hearts.

“Mere mortal! How dare you treat my junior brother like this! I’ll kill you!”

Cen He angrily shouted out from behind.

With a concentration of his palm, he materialized a long sword out of thin air. The sword blade was snow-bright, gleaming with cold light, thrusting straight toward Wei Xun.

Wei Xun didn’t even lift his eyelids, merely stepping sideways to yield and spinning to dodge.

The tip of the sword just barely brushed past the corner of his clothes, piercing empty air.

Cen He was stunned.

He was an inner sect disciple of the Profound Sword Sect. Although this sword thrust didn’t use his full strength, it was absolutely not something an ordinary person could dodge.

How did this person dodge it? He didn’t even see the other party’s movements clearly.

—It was nothing more than good luck.

Cen He gritted his teeth, turned his wrist, and was about to thrust another sword strike.

Yet he heard Wei Xun speak again.

He still maintained that calm and collected appearance, but his tone carried a trace of mockery: “Oh? Mere mortals? Are everyone here unexpectedly not mortals? Then why do you, who possess spiritual power, still want to come to East Mirror Lake City? Could it be that you have some other purpose?”

Cen He stiffened abruptly.

Only at this moment did fear arise.

He thought of the words Shen Peiqiu had said before departure, telling them absolutely not to broadcast their identities, and couldn’t help but feel angry and annoyed in his heart.

Looking at Wei Xun, his eyes gained a few fractions of gloominess.

If it weren’t for this person’s repeated provocations, he wouldn’t have exposed his identity just to vent his junior brother’s anger!

Although an ant, he was truly hateful!

Upon hearing this, the expressions of the other Profound Sword Sect disciples also changed slightly.

Cen He lowered his eyes.

Suddenly, killing intent arose in his heart.

Since things had come to this, he might as well go all out. As long as he killed these two people, he could conceal it from the Immortal Venerable.

Jiang Qunyu was originally still watching the show, but he saw the trace of malice flash through the depths of Cen He’s eyes.

He immediately came down from the top of Wei Xun’s head. Upon landing, he had already transformed into that handsome youth appearance, blocking squarely in front of Wei Xun without leaning or tilting.

He felt eager to try in his heart.

Great!

It had been almost seven years, and he had simply been unable to find an opportunity to block a sword for Wei Xun.

This time, no matter what, he had to block a sword, not forgetting to grab a handful of favorability points. He said to Wei Xun: “No need to trouble yourself with this, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

“Jiang Qunyu, are you looking for death?”

A low shout came from behind, carrying a hint of gnashing teeth.

Before Jiang Qunyu could react, his waist tightened.

A hand reached over from behind, wrapped around his waist, the force shockingly great, directly pulling his entire person back and throwing him behind.

Jiang Qunyu staggered two steps before standing steady, looking blank: “?”

He looked at Wei Xun’s back, his brain unable to keep up.

Wei Xun had truly gone crazy.

Wei Xun himself also felt he had gone crazy, and was even somewhat angry.

But this burst of anger came without a head or tail. Even he himself didn’t know what he was angry about.

Was he angry that Jiang Qunyu didn’t know life from death and rushed forward? Or was he angry that he treated him like some useless trash that needed protection? Or perhaps he was angry at that grinning appearance of his, as if dying for him was some amusing matter?

He couldn’t say clearly.

He could only vent that anger onto Cen He.

His right eye gradually filled with a layer of faint black haze.

Right at this moment, two figures entered from outside the courtyard.

Jiang Qunyu raised his head to look.

The person in the lead wore a moon-white plain brocade robe. The fabric was plain and unpatterned, with only a few faint cloud patterns embroidered on the cuffs.

His entire person was like cold snow on distant mountains, lingering with a seemingly non-existent aloof aura.

Between his brows and eyes, there was a faint trace of weariness, as if he was annoyed by some matter.

The person behind him had a taller figure, sharp brows and eyes, and a distinct jawline.

Dressed entirely in a mysterious black martial outfit, the fabric was neat and crisp. Although there were no complex patterns or ornaments, it accentuated his figure, making him look even more upright and slender.

A red waistband was also tied at his waist, adding a few parts of youthful spirit.

Almost the moment the two entered the door, Jiang Qunyu confirmed their identities.

Shen Peiqiu and Lan Yuanzhou.

That is, the protagonist ‘Gong’ and ‘Shou’ in the original book.

Your uncle’s.

Apart from catching a distant glimpse of the two of them hugging and biting each other, full of love and hate, at the wedding of his cheap younger brother Wei Miao and his fiancé the first time.

Seven years had passed, and only now did he truly meet the protagonist Gong and Shou.

*

*

For the past half year, quite a few sect disciples had reported through sound transmission jade pendants that demonic entities were causing trouble in East Mirror Lake City.

Coupled with the fact that the matter between Lan Yuanzhou and Su Fuyao was truly making Shen Peiqiu feel annoyed and restless, he simply went down the mountain personally.

Originally, Shen Peiqiu only brought a few disciples down the mountain together, not intending to bring Lan Yuanzhou and Su Fuyao along.

But somehow, these two followed them down.

Lan Yuanzhou said he wanted Su Fuyao to personally explain to him.

Explain?

Shen Peiqiu felt gloomy in his heart.

Actually, whether he explained or not, it made no difference to him anymore.

Anyway, it was impossible for him and Lan Yuanzhou.

That day when he saw Lan Yuanzhou and Su Fuyao in the same bed, he had already figured it out.

Why bother concerning himself with these matters again?

Shen Peiqiu felt gloomy in his heart.

After waking up in the morning, he went out alone to investigate.

He hadn’t expected Lan Yuanzhou to quietly follow him. Although he was angry in his heart, he had no way to deal with Lan Yuanzhou.

Since Lan Yuanzhou had already provoked Su Fuyao, why did he still want to provoke him?

But he couldn’t say these words out loud, and could only allow that person to follow behind, matching him step for step, unable to shake him off.

In the end, he had to compromise.

The two of them took another turn around the city and still found nothing.

The sun rose higher, so they came back.

As soon as he entered the door, Shen Peiqiu saw Cen He holding a long sword, the tip of the sword pointing at a handsome youth.

That youth had no spiritual power fluctuations around his body, yet he stood in place, his expression calm, as if watching some inconsequential scenery.

Su Fuyao stood beside Cen He.

Su Fuyao’s eye sockets contained tears, the corners of his eyes red, looking pitifully toward Lan Yuanzhou.

Seeing this, Lan Yuanzhou’s heartstrings tugged.

But he subconsciously looked at his Master first.

His Master’s expression was still cold, as if it had nothing to do with him.

The moon-white robe gleamed with a faint light under the sun, and the person had already lifted his foot to walk into the courtyard.

Lan Yuanzhou’s expression dimmed for a moment.

Su Fuyao didn’t care about this, though. He trotted over, opened his arms, plunged into Lan Yuanzhou’s embrace, and hugged his waist tightly.

Burying his face in his chest, his voice carried a crying tone: “Brother Yuanzhou.”

Shen Peiqiu’s footsteps stiffened.

His face turned somewhat pale.

He gritted his teeth, forcefully suppressing the urge to look at the two people behind him, and walked toward the inside of the courtyard.

Lan Yuanzhou subconsciously opened his mouth: “Master…”

His voice held a bit of urgency, a bit of panic.

Su Fuyao heard it.

On the face buried in Lan Yuanzhou’s chest, a trace of unwillingness flashed through the depths of his eyes.

Just now in the courtyard, when he saw that white-clothed young master, he indeed felt a momentary heartbeat.

After all, such a handsome appearance couldn’t be found a second time in the entire Profound Sword Sect.

But that person was clearly hard to manipulate. Ignoring him was one thing, but his words were also so harsh.

In comparison, the Heaven’s Pride of the Profound Sword Sect, the personal disciple of the Immortal Venerable, Lan Yuanzhou still had a better future.

The arms hugging Lan Yuanzhou tightened again.

After a moment, he acted as if he suddenly realized something, hastily let go, took a half-step back, raised his eyes, and looked at Lan Yuanzhou carefully.

“Brother Yuanzhou, I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hugged you, I was just… just feeling too wronged.”

As he spoke, his eyes rimmed red again.

Lan Yuanzhou sighed.

He reached out, his thumb pad gently brushing past the corner of Su Fuyao’s eye, wiping away that bit of tear stain: “Don’t cry for now.”

His voice was gentle, carrying a bit of helplessness.

The footsteps of Shen Peiqiu in front stiffened again.

He swallowed the sourness in his throat. After entering the door, he looked at the few people from the Profound Sword Sect.

Suppressing those emotions he shouldn’t have had, he asked quickly without any ripples: “What happened?”

Seeing Shen Peiqiu return, Cen He knew in his heart he could only temporarily suppress the thought of killing those two ants.

He played the victim and complained first: “Master, this person learned of our identities without knowing why, and even directed evil words toward Junior Brother Su! It’s truly detestable!”

Jiang Qunyu was still happily watching the dog-blood Shura field.

He watched Lan Yuanzhou wiping away tears with wide, staring eyes.

Good heavens, playing like this right in front of the protagonist Shou? Shen Peiqiu’s back was so stiff it was about to shatter.

He didn’t expect that in the next second, he would hear Cen He’s voice confusing black and white.

Fuck! Your uncle’s!

Where did the Profound Sword Sect recruit this kind of trash?

What did he mean ‘not knowing why’? Although he and Wei Xun had indeed known early on that they were disciples of the Profound Sword Sect, it was also them who had been constantly provoking since they entered the door.

If it weren’t for him insisting on showing off how superior their status was.

Wei Xun wouldn’t have spoken to them passive-aggressively either.

Looking at the sword in Cen He’s hand, Shen Peiqiu actually roughly understood in his heart exactly what had happened.

Wen Xingyao also hollered: “If you hadn’t pestered us endlessly first, why would this young master and this young master’s friend scold you?! This is simply spitting blood²!”

He pointed at Cen He, his face turning red with anger, “You guys made the first move! You even drew your sword! We properly entered the courtyard, and you guys came up and asked who we were, sounding like you were interrogating criminals!”

“My friend merely said ‘what kind of thing are you,’ and that crybaby’s eyes turned red, as if someone bullied him! And then you drew your sword!”

Hearing this, Cen He wished he could tear Wen Xingyao’s mouth apart.

The two of you said one word, I said another, arguing fiercely.

Wei Xun was already impatient. He reached out, grabbed Wen Xingyao by the collar, and was about to toss him toward the wooden house on the other side.

Shen Peiqiu suddenly sighed and said: “If this young master doesn’t mind, we can have a talk.”

Oh ho!

Jiang Qunyu’s eyes lit up, and he immediately perked up.

The first formal conversation between Wei Xun and Shen Peiqiu!

1. a slang for someone outwardly innocent but actually manipulative ↩︎
2. making groundless accusations ↩︎