ATAVID CH65

Jiang Qunyu couldn’t even explain what he was being stubborn about. Instead of returning to the Jade Capital Tower, he went straight to the Blood Moon Pavilion.

The number of demon cultivators guarding the pavilion was several times higher than usual. Clad in black armor, they had the entire building surrounded so tightly that not even water could leak through. Jiang Qunyu watched from the shadows for a while, then, expressionless, circled to the rear and nimbly vaulted over the eaves.

Inside the hall, soothing incense burned, the smoke curling and softening the candlelight into a hazy, gentle glow. Layers of ink-colored curtains were drawn, completely obscuring the bed. He stood outside the curtains, peering through a gap in the thin silk. The cultivator on the bed was indeed Shen Peiqiu.

He seemed to be severely injured; his face was pale, his thin lips colorless, and he slept quietly with his eyes closed.

Jiang Qunyu watched for a long time. His mood was truly terrible—not because of Shen Peiqiu, but because of himself. He was actually feeling displeased just now. It was completely insane.

Even though he didn’t know why Wei Xun had brought Shen Peiqiu back, the plot line was moving according to the original story. All he had to do was follow the steps and finish his job. He had started this all those years ago, working diligently just to get a body of his own. Now that he was finally about to reach the finish line, not only was he not happy, he was actually annoyed. He really must have water in his brain.

Besides, after he died two more times, he could completely part ways with Wei Xun and live his own life. He wouldn’t have to worry about Wei Xun having another “episode” someday.

…In the end, it was all Wei Xun’s fault!

If their relationship had stayed as pure as it was before the “Pillow of Yellow Springs” dream, if Wei Xun hadn’t inexplicably kissed him, hadn’t said those ambiguous things that made his heart race—things that sounded like he was about to make a move on him—he wouldn’t be constantly agitated. And he certainly wouldn’t feel so subtle about seeing Wei Xun follow the plot and bring Shen Peiqiu back to the Demon Realm.

If only he could forget all those memories from the “Pillow of Yellow Springs”…

The more Jiang Qunyu thought, the angrier he got. He turned and walked out of the Blood Moon Pavilion quickly. Walking on the stone path with nowhere to vent his fire, he kicked the loose pebbles along the roadside, cursing Wei Xun under his breath the whole way, his voice filled with stifled irritation.

He wandered around outside for a long time, not dragging his feet back to the Jade Capital Tower until the moon was high in the sky.

The warm pavilion on the top floor had its windows open. The falling snow drifted in, landing on the desk and on dark clothing. Wei Xun, dressed in white that outshone the snow, sat before a zither, his figure as thin and gaunt as a traditional ink painting. An old zither lay across his lap; his fingertips rested lightly on the strings, but he didn’t pluck them, just quietly watching the wind and snow outside the window.

Jiang Qunyu froze. He inexplicably recalled a snowy night from the past, at the Lingxiao Sect’s Lonely Cold Peak. In the illusion, the seventeen-year-old Wei Xun would sit by the window all night, waiting for him to return. If he returned late, Wei Xun would be unhappy, his lips pressed tightly together, his eyes covered in a thin layer of chill.

The scene from the illusion overlapped with the present moment without warning.

Wei Xun seemed to notice his presence. His long, thick eyelashes fluttered, and the next moment, he lifted his eyelids to look at him, his tone mournful: “You’re only just back now.”

Jiang Qunyu was momentarily dazed. Unsurprisingly, as the memories crossed over, he couldn’t help but feel irritable, and the anger he had worked so hard to suppress instantly surged back.

He laughed coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm: “Unlike some people, who have now learned to ‘hide a beauty in a golden house.'”

Wei Xun was stunned by this remark. He asked strangely: “Am I hiding you?”

“…” Jiang Qunyu choked. After a long while, he pulled a deadpan face and cursed, “F***.”

“Weren’t you afraid of death when you went through all the trouble to build this Jade Capital Tower?” He was annoyed and felt he was truly sick—acting as if he and Wei Xun actually had a “thing,” and he was currently throwing a tantrum over Wei Xun’s mistress. Jiang Qunyu calmed down for a second; he just wanted to skip this topic. “I’m talking about Shen Peiqiu.”

Wei Xun turned his head to look at him. His eyes were exceptionally deep in the candlelight, like a bottomless pool of water. He asked: “Jiang Qunyu, do you care that much?”

Jiang Qunyu tightened his face, expressionless: “You’re overthinking it.”

The air was silent for a moment. A candle wick popped, making a soft crackling sound that seemed exceptionally clear in the silence. Snowflakes drifted in through the open window, landing on the strings of the zither on the desk, instantly melting into tiny beads of water.

“But I care very much,” Wei Xun suddenly said. “Is there anything good about him? You’ve been looking at him all day today.”

Wei Xun pressed his lips tightly together, his jaw tense, radiating dissatisfaction from head to toe.

Jiang Qunyu: “?”

Wasn’t he the one who was angry? Why, after passing through Wei Xun’s words, did it sound like he was the one who was wronged? Jiang Qunyu became unhappy too. He knew he was acting impulsively, but his emotions were like a fire he couldn’t suppress. Even if the plot hadn’t fully played out, he couldn’t stop wondering about the possibility of those scenes unfolding between Wei Xun and Shen Peiqiu.

He laughed coldly and jabbed back: “Of course I care. We are sharing the same body right now, after all. I don’t want to possess you one day and have to clean up your messy love life.”

“Jiang Qunyu!” Wei Xun’s expression darkened instantly. He sneered, “You cleaning up my love life? Can you handle it?”

Jiang Qunyu fell silent. Wei Xun stopped looking at him. He turned his head away and said coldly: “If you can’t do it, don’t say things like that.”

After that, the two fell into a bizarre cold war.

Actually, after calming down, Jiang Qunyu knew very well that there was no way there could be anything between Wei Xun and Shen Peiqiu. He had just been temporarily blinded by anger; looking back, he felt he was just making a mountain out of a molehill. He concluded that after all these years as a soul-body, he was just used to the fact that only Wei Xun could see him and talk to him, and he had subconsciously tried to bind Wei Xun with this uniqueness, hoping that only he would exist by Wei Xun’s side.

That was why he felt subtle emotions when Shen Peiqiu appeared. But according to the original plot, Shen Peiqiu was destined to be brought to the Demon Realm at this node; it was a fixed narrative. If this were a long time ago, he would have just watched coldly without any feeling of discomfort.

Perhaps he really should speed up the progress of the final two deaths. Once he was reborn and had a body, able to talk to others like a normal person, this inexplicable obsession and awkwardness might just dissipate. Furthermore, since the plot had accelerated, the great war might also happen sooner. He needed to “get off work” early so that Wei Xun’s sword intent could reach the seventh level faster. It was the best outcome for both of them.

Once Jiang Qunyu figured this out, he became cheerful again. Therefore, in early spring of the following year, when the apricot blossoms bloomed and Wei Xun asked if he wanted to go see them, he reluctantly made up with him.

The only thing that bothered him was that Wei Xun no longer took him along, so he couldn’t find a suitable opportunity to block a sword for him. Otherwise, judging by the frequency of Wei Xun’s injuries over the years, he would have already been reborn if he had been by his side.

One day, Jiang Qunyu said: “Wei Xun, I’m bored staying at the Jade Capital Tower every day. I want to follow you to the battlefield.”

The youth turned pale at these words, reached out, and pulled him tightly into his arms without a second thought. His arms were tight, and his tone was panicked: “It’ll be over soon. Can you wait for me a little longer?”

Jiang Qunyu wanted to say “no,” but Wei Xun was holding him too tightly. For some reason, after a long while, Jiang Qunyu agreed.

He rarely asked what Wei Xun was busy with, so he didn’t know what it was that would “be over soon.” He returned to his usual life. For him, it was actually quite fine; back in the modern world, he was used to staying at home due to his profession, so the days passed one by one.

Only occasionally, in the dead of night, Jiang Qunyu would lie on the branches of the old tree outside the Jade Capital Tower, basking in the moonlight. The cool, damp night breeze would carry the hushed discussions of the maids and demon servants below, their topics constantly circling back to that person in the Blood Moon Pavilion.

“That cultivator is truly pitiful. All his cultivation has dissipated, and even his spiritual veins are damaged. Who knows what kind of suffering he endured.”

“The Lord has the witch doctor send medicine every day and has searched for countless medicinal treasures; he must care for him deeply.”

Such discussions lasted for a year. Later, the voices under the tree added a hint of joy: “Cultivator Shen can finally draw energy into his body again! The thousand-year spiritual herb that Lord Green Dragon sent at the Lord’s command is truly miraculous; it wasn’t all in vain.”

Jiang Qunyu rested his head on his arms, listening quietly as the seasons turned, watching flowers bloom and fall, and hearing those titles change bit by bit. From the distant “that cultivator,” to the polite “Cultivator Shen,” to the intimate “Young Master Shen,” and finally, to the full of respect “Immortal Lord Shen.”

“Young Master Shen praised my hairstyle yesterday; he’s so gentle, not a shred of the arrogance a cultivator usually has!”

“I clumsily dropped his zither yesterday and was scared to death, but not only did he not blame me, he comforted me instead. He’s such a good person.”

“Immortal Lord Shen is truly the best cultivator I’ve ever met—gentle and kind. No wonder the Lord loves him. If all cultivators in the world were like this, my father and mother wouldn’t have died in the immortal-demon conflict back then…”

“Immortal Lord Shen was planting spiritual flowers in the garden today, saying it could purify the turbid energy in the surroundings…”

The discussions continued day after day. After hearing them for so long, even Jiang Qunyu became dazed, and a thought began to bubble up from the bottom of his heart: Does Wei Xun truly love Shen Peiqiu? After all, anyone would be moved by such a wonderful person.

However, he did occasionally meet Shen Peiqiu. The young man always had a faint smile on his lips, giving one the feeling of a spring breeze. On rainy days, he would even go out of his way to offer an umbrella to little demon servants trapped in the rain, patient and kind, with not a drop of the high-and-mighty attitude of an Immortal Lord, and no disdain for being in the Demon Realm.

Jiang Qunyu watched silently, thinking, Shen Peiqiu is indeed a very good person.

Gradually, the residual awkwardness at the bottom of his heart faded into insignificant smoke.

Xiping Year 46.

A beast tide surged at the border of the Demon Realm, demonic energy shrouding the sky. Rumors spread that the “Heart of the Divine Tree” was about to appear. It was a heavenly spiritual object; after refining it, a cultivator could directly break through a major realm, and even demons could significantly increase their cultivation. Moreover, the pure spiritual energy it contained was enough to support the power consumption of a mid-sized sect for hundreds of years—it was a peerless treasure.

Once the news broke, the demon generals under Wei Xun requested to go on an expedition, determined to seize the Heart of the Divine Tree. On the other side, major immortal sects and itinerant masters of the cultivation world also heard the news and arrived, all determined to seize this spiritual object.

Jiang Qunyu originally wanted to sneak off with Wei Xun, but before he could even leave the city, Wei Xun discovered him. Jiang Qunyu had to pretend he was just seeing Wei Xun off.

Wei Xun didn’t know if he believed it or not. His long eyelashes lowered, and he rested his head on Jiang Qunyu’s shoulder, his voice low and carrying an imperceptible attachment: “Jiang Qunyu, when I return to the city next time, will you wait for me like last time?”

Jiang Qunyu was stunned. He subconsciously looked into the distance; the autumn wind blew falling leaves into a rustling dance, the sky was high and clouds were light—this year was the autumn of the 46th year. He blinked and after a long time said: “If you return before New Year’s Eve, perhaps I will.”

As the words fell, Wei Xun’s tense jaw softened instantly, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Until the massive procession disappeared at the end of the city gate did Jiang Qunyu return to the Jade Capital Tower to continue lying about. One day, he was lying on the couch in the warm pavilion, reading scripts as usual, when he heard a sinister, icy voice suddenly drift from outside the Jade Capital Tower.

“Heh, I want to see what kind of special ‘thing’ is hidden in this Jade Capital Tower that could make that wretch Wei Guanlan go to such lengths, finding so many Great Demon stage cultivators to guard it, and even going so far as to consume his own cultivation to lay down layers of enchantments to protect it.”

Another voice was slightly hoarse, its tone wrapped in hatred: “Lord Vermillion Bird is right; Wei Xun must be hiding what he cares about most in this tower.”

“Now that he has led his troops to the border and is not in Cloud Palace, this is the perfect opportunity. If we kill or completely destroy what he cares about, we will surely make him wish he were dead, which would also avenge our blood feud…”

“Clap—“

A sharp long whip broke through the air and lashed fiercely at the person beside him. Yin Zhu’s eyes were filled with rage that could not be suppressed: “Who gave you permission to call me Vermillion Bird!”

The owner of that voice immediately knelt on the ground: “Lord Yin Zhu, please calm your anger; it was my slip of the tongue…”

Yin Zhu gritted his teeth, his brows and eyes covered in an indelible, sinister ferocity. He subconsciously raised his hand, his fingertips clawing at the rough skin on his arm. The pain of old, chronic wounds seemed to return, forcing up painful memories from decades ago—

Back when Wei Xun had just taken the position of Demon Lord, he was decisive and resolute, replacing all the old four protectors of the Demon Realm. And Yin Zhu, he had suffered the most miserable end. Not only was he stripped of his position as the Vermillion Bird protector and had half his cultivation废去 (abolished), but he was also thrown into the dark and lightless beast fighting arena, left to be torn and gnawed by ferocious beasts.

Sharp animal claws tore his skin, fangs crunched his bones, and his whole body was drenched in blood, until he nearly fainted. If it weren’t for his luck—the beast that swallowed him was killed by Wei Xun shortly after out of disgust—he would have died there. Later, he had struggled to wake up in the bloody, hot belly of the beast, doing everything he could to rip open the beast’s body and escape. Otherwise, he would have likely turned into a pile of white bones by now.

But even so, his face was ruined. Most of his face was covered in hideous, twisted scars, and half of his body was left with chronic ailments; whenever the weather was cold and gloomy, his whole body would itch and ache with pain, leaving him unable to rest day or night.

In that hellish time, he lay in the sunless demon cave, being gnawed by hatred every moment, swearing a blood oath that one day, he would personally destroy everything Wei Xun cared about, making him taste the feeling of being in agony as well.

In the warm pavilion, Jiang Qunyu was startled. He remembered that broken lotus flower of Wei Xun’s, hurriedly got up, jumped off the soft couch, and headed out.