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Chapter 2: Meow Meow — Cang Shun

The Demon Emperor, having been bitten once, returned to the ground completely unharmed.

His hide was too thick to bite through—only a few strands of fur had fallen off.

The small snow-white beast widened its round animal eyes, staring at those few strands of fur drifting on the ground, and instantly puffed up into a large fluffy cotton ball, letting out an indignant mewing sound.

Chen Moqing remained unmoved and continued cultivating with his eyes closed.

Cang Shun: "......"

Not even an apology!

They were incompatible—there was nothing more to discuss!

The Demon Emperor stormed off furiously, without looking back, his retreating figure resolute—very soon, that ball of angry, fluffy fur splashed noisily through the puddles and vanished into the distance.

Not long after.

A small, soaking wet, snow-white fuzzy ball covered in mud splatters returned, staring coldly at that human cultivator.

He could not go beyond fifty chi away from this human.

Some kind of special contract had formed between them. Breaking it was not difficult—he only needed to recover half of his former cultivation, or alternatively, kill this person right now.

He was a great demon born from the Primordial Void. Nothing in this world could bind him.

His cold, crimson demon eyes flashed with a chilling light. His overwhelming demonic energy surged like invisible tidal waves, capable of crushing that frail human cultivator—no sturdier than a lone leaf on a small boat—at any moment.

Chen Moqing sat alone, motionless.

Having been caught in a heavy downpour, both his dark hair and red robes were soaked through. His posture remained upright, like a bamboo grove in the forest damp with mist.

Below the outer corner of his left eye sat a faint teardrop mole, set against his pale skin like a drop of ink fallen onto xuan paper*.

*t/n; a type of traditional Chinese paper.

Cang Shun stared at that teardrop mole, unmoving, and kept staring for nearly half a cup of tea's time.

...Somehow, about half of his anger quietly faded away.

Fine.

He was far too dignified to bully the weak.

The fluffy snow-white beast glared with its round animal eyes and plopped itself down beside that human with a huff.

Chen Moqing did not lift his gaze, concentrating wholeheartedly on circulating the foundational cultivation technique of a beginner, letting that small demon beast scratch ceaselessly at the hem of his robe with its claws.

It was not until Cang Shun had, as though out of spite, torn the man's robe hem into strips of ragged cloth that he finally heard that voice—clear and pleasant, like a cold spring trickling through a mountain valley:

"So then, Your Majesty the Demon Emperor is not going to kill me after all?"

One sentence, and the daylight suddenly dimmed. Amid the surging murk, a pair of crimson demon eyes glowed cold and bright, burning like an eternal sun.

【How did you recognize Benzun?】

The Demon Emperor's voice carried no warmth. Chen Moqing did not open his eyes, "Your bearing is extraordinary, your manner distinguished."

Cang Shun: "......"

The small snow-white beast looked down at itself—its fluffy back straightened, its soft little chest lifted slightly.

Indeed.

"I also suspect," Chen Moqing's lashes, dark as raven feathers, lifted slightly, his deep black eyes like an undisturbed lake surface, "That you awakened on my blood. You cannot kill me."

Cang Shun: "?"

"Meow!"

【Then why did you bite me?!】

Chen Moqing: "It was convenient."

Cang Shun: "???"

How long had he been asleep, for the world to have fallen this far!

Humans truly grew worse with each generation!

No, wait!

Cang Shun's demon eyes narrowed slightly.

【Can you hear Benzun's words?】

Chen Moqing gave no clear answer.

From the moment this small demon beast appeared, not only had his ears been filled with a stream of mewing and chirping, but also a low, arrogant male voice.

It was not mind-reading—if the Demon Emperor did not speak in his mewing and chirping, no other sound could be heard.

"The ancient demon tongue, resonant as gold and jade, is truly remarkable."

Cang Shun let out a scoffing laugh and flicked his long, fluffy tail.

"Meow!"

【But of course.】

The small snow-white beast began circling around Chen Moqing again, each step landing squarely on the hem of his robe where it pooled on the ground.

【Since you have recognized Benzun, and you know Benzun could crush you like a worm with a mere raise of a hand, you are not afraid?】

Chen Moqing: "In those years when the Demon Abyss emerged and the demon clan brought chaos upon the mortal world, with the heavenly order on the verge of collapse, the Demon Emperor used himself as a shield. In the five thousand years since your fall, not a trace of demonic energy has been seen in the mortal realm."

He finished these words calmly, then closed his eyes and resumed his cultivation.

The small snow-white beast padded quietly across his robes for a moment, then lazily hopped onto his lap and settled down.

It was swept off by Chen Moqing's hand.

Cang Shun: "???"

The moment he recovered half his cultivation, he would break the contract immediately!

He would not stay by this human's side a single moment longer! Not even half a moment!

The small snow-white beast huffed and turned its body away, presenting an indignantly round and remarkably cold little back to that person.

For the next day and night, the human and the demon exchanged not another word.

After an unknown number of hours, Chen Moqing emerged from his long meditation, a burning sensation gnawing at his abdomen.

With his cultivation entirely crippled, he was no different from an ordinary person—of course he would grow weary and hungry.

The northern borders held no living creatures, and he could not leave this place. Fortunately, wild grass grew all around, and those grass roots also held traces of killing energy and spiritual power—as though the blind heavens had briefly regained their sight for half a moment.

Cang Shun, lying nearby, turned his head idly—and his round demon eyes went wide.

【Are you out of your mind?】

【Is this something a human can eat?】

【Don't eat that! There's mud on it!】

A torrent of mewing and chirping overlapped with the low male voice, the small snow-white beast hopping around Chen Moqing without stop, constantly nudging him with its fluffy paws.

Finding that Chen Moqing ignored him and simply went on eating grass with perfect calm, the snow-white beast wailed even louder.

Two voices in his ears without a moment's rest, like a lit firecracker, so noisy that he could not find a single moment of peace. Chen Moqing coolly swallowed the sour, bitter grass juice, then moved with lightning speed and stuffed a clump of grass roots into the small demon beast's mouth.

Cang Shun, caught completely off guard with a mouthful of grass: "......"

This was no way to live!

On the second day, Cang Shun chewed grass roots alongside Chen Moqing.

For no other reason than that the Demon Emperor had furiously discovered that whenever this human cultivator went hungry, he—who had long since transcended the need for food—would likewise feel his stomach growling with hunger.

His blood had roused him from thousands of years of slumber, and had also inscribed an invisible contract, forging between the two of them a connection that went beyond the physical.

The Demon Emperor, reduced to eating greens, chewed on the infuriating contract, his eyes as cold as water soaked in ice.

Once he left this place, he would find another way to dissolve the contract.

Half a year at most, and he would be free again—never having to look at this detestable face.

A pale hand extended toward him, its knuckles even and slender, the curved joints like jade-carved bamboo, the thin pale palm cradling a small cluster of fresh grass leaves.

Cang Shun stared at that hand for three seconds.

He slowly leaned over and nibbled from his palm.

The hand withdrew.

No more feeding. Eat on your own.

Cang Shun: "......"

Three months at most! He would absolutely dissolve the contract!

He would never stay together with this detestable human!!

...

Xiao Jibai opened his eyes to the sight of a room with classical charm, a light and refined fragrance drifting through the air, the surroundings furnished in simple, clean elegance.

"Where is this?"

There was no one else in the room, yet a voice rang out from thin air: "Host, this is Luohe Peak."

Luohe Peak—the former residence of Chen Moqing, the head disciple of the Tianshu Sect's sect master, which had now changed hands.

Xiao Jibai looked around, showing not the slightest interest in the furnishings that appeared anything but expensive or lavish, and gave a small nod: "Master still treats me pretty well."

He lounged in bed for half a shichen before finally getting up, hands clasped behind his back, wandering around the modest room, looking about and clicking his tongue with a shake of his head: "This is worse than the room of a sect administrator. No good. Tomorrow I'm redecorating."

"Host, you have been asleep for nearly half a year and have fallen considerably behind in your cultivation."

"What's the rush? With my current talent, a single minute of casual cultivation is worth a month of hard work from anyone else."

Xiao Jibai was unconcerned. He reached into his storage sleeve and pulled out a mirror.

This was a magical artifact he had exchanged from the system—it could spy on cultivators within one cultivation realm of his own, with a time limit of three minutes.

Before long, the mirror revealed a white-robed figure standing silently amid a bamboo grove.

Xiao Jibai couldn't hold back a snort of laughter: "Gongsun Bushi really is hopelessly devoted. He actually built a cenotaph."

He plopped down on the edge of the bed, one hand idly stroking the plain bedding beneath him, and cast a glance around before murmuring: "Senior Brother Chen actually treated me pretty well too. Apart from my parents, he treated me the best of anyone."

He heard the system ask: "You do not mind that sword strike?"

Xiao Jibai slowly curled the corner of his mouth: "Didn't he pay for it with his life?"

The system fell silent. Xiao Jibai flopped back onto the bed: "I want Senior Brother's sword. How many points would it cost?"

"A sword with an owner cannot be exchanged for points. Besides, the points you owe have already been spread across six hundred installments."

"Ah, what's one more debt on the pile?" Xiao Jibai waved a dismissive hand, tucking both hands behind his head, "Thirty years on the east side of the river, thirty years on the west— never look down on a young man just because he's poor!"

System: "You are not young, and you are indeed poor."

"...Once I start cultivating seriously, I'll advance by leaps and bounds! And then, what sect treasure couldn't I have?"

Xiao Jibai's eyes blazed with fervor, a surge of hot blood rising in his chest.

"In time, I'll ascend to stand above all, shattering the void—"

His voice suddenly dropped.

"And then, I can finally go home."

...

Cang Shun lay sprawled lazily on a small patch of grass, his two front paws crossed beneath his chin.

That young human cultivator had been cultivating without sleep or rest for two months, through the alternation of day and night, without a single moment's pause.

The killing energy in this place was in truth a remnant power born from the fusion of the long-destroyed Demon Abyss and his own fallen body—and every wisp of it carried not only a corrosive demonic energy capable of eroding all things, but also an abundant spiritual power originating from the heavenly order.

This human cultivator ceaselessly absorbed the killing energy, allowing the demonic energy to corrode his flesh and blood, using his own body as a vessel to filter it, ultimately retaining the spiritual energy to settle in his elixir field.

Even the Demon Emperor found this method utterly astonishing. Even a faint brush with killing energy was enough to destroy most cultivators utterly—and yet, after more than sixty consecutive days of forcibly drawing in killing energy again and again, paying with the corrosion of his own body to absorb spiritual power, this young human was still alive.

Even setting death aside, the ceaseless, searing agony—like ten thousand ants gnawing at the heart—would have been enough to shatter the mind of any cultivator. Yet after observing for dozens of days, Cang Shun found that this human cultivator's will was immovable as bedrock, without so much as a tremor.

If this person walked the path of immortality, he would be like the great sun rising over the heavens, illuminating all under the sky. If he fell into demonhood, he would be a dragon moving through the deep abyss, ready to devour the heavens and swallow the sun.

Taking no notice of a certain Demon Emperor's shifting gaze, Chen Moqing kept his mind sunk deep and still, like sitting beside a mirrorlike lake without a single ripple.

Over the past several days, he had channeled every shred of gathered spiritual power into tempering his own body—as though cast into the furnace of heavenly order, scorched by raging flame, struck by heavenly lightning, hammered through ten thousand trials.

At this moment, though he possessed not a single shred of cultivation, after countless rounds of heavenly tempering, combined with the undying, imperishable Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree technique, his physical constitution had grown robust enough to rival that of an ordinary cultivator at the early Golden Core stage—and it would continue to advance as his cultivation grew.

The foundation had been forged. The time had come to set foot once more on the path to the heavens.

Cang Shun sensed the killing energy around them surging with violent fluctuations, rapidly converging in one direction. He narrowed his demon eyes slightly, his voice low:

【To act against the will of heaven, driven by too great a haste. A path walked with such ferocity may not end well.】

Chen Moqing's eyes were tightly shut, his face pale, a faint sheen of sweat seeping from his brow. At those words, he gave a faint smile: "What if I am determined to defy fate?"

Cang Shun said nothing and slowly rose to his feet.

Mortals were like mayflies—their lives fleeting, bereft of the heavenly order's favor, forced to wrest spiritual energy from heaven and earth just to earn the slimmest chance of climbing the long stairway toward the Great Path¹.

And so the cultivation path of the human race was also called 'Ascending to Heaven'.

They were unlike the demon race, who could naturally draw upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth from birth, their cultivation advancing with half the effort. An ordinary cultivator might break through to the first realm, the Qi Refinement stage, in as few as a decade or as many as several.

To ascend after that was like crossing a raging torrent—full of rises and falls, and a single misstep meant death and the annihilation of one's path.

Cang Shun coldly looked away.

It would be just as well if he died. After all, if he died, then he would be free.

The very next moment, he snapped his head back around—the killing energy converging from all directions was moving far too fast, far too vast, as though every shred of killing energy accumulated across the entire northern borders  over a thousand years was surging toward this very spot.

The churning black energy rose like a boundless sea, enveloping and swallowing that lean, slender figure. Then blood exploded outward—blood and shattered flesh stained the rolling black mist red, spiraling into a crimson vortex.

【Stop! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!】

Cang Shun stepped forward—ten thousand thunderbolts erupted with a deafening roar, blazing lightning illuminating those furious crimson demon eyes, crashing down upon the killing energy—and then halted in midair.

He hesitated, wary of accidentally harming the feeble human who could be snuffed out with the lightest pinch, grinding his teeth in frustration, unable to act.

Time stretched on as though a thousand years had passed, yet it also felt like nothing more than a few brief instants.

The killing energy dispersed. The wind stilled, the clouds quieted. Upon the barren, cracked earth, only a solitary skeleton remained, seated upright.

The lightning vanished in an instant. Cang Shun paced furious circles nearby, his claws raking deep gouges into the ground—for a few fleeting moments it seemed as though he might simply lunge forward and shatter that skeleton to pieces and be done with it.

Then, within a single breath, red-branched wood wound around the pale white skeleton, and at the tip of the withered branch, all of spring returned.

From white bone grew flesh and blood, and over it spread new skin. Life and death turned in their cycle, and even the King of Hell was compelled to step aside.

Half an hour later, Chen Moqing opened his eyes. The depths of his ink-black gaze were dark and lightless; dark hair, pale skin—like a black serpent-dragon surfacing from some ancient deep pool buried in a forest that had never seen sunlight.

He had reached the peak of the Qi Refinement stage.

Cang Shun: "......"

He turned his head away immediately.

【Are human cultivators nowadays... are they all like you?】

Chen Moqing: "My aptitude is mediocre. Compared to some, I am less than a drop in the ocean. Naturally I must fight with everything I have."

Having passed once through the cycle of life and death, his voice remained as calm and detached as ever—only somewhat low and hoarse from exhaustion.

Cang Shun said nothing.

Turning its back to him, not sparing so much as a sliver of a glance in his direction, it scurried a little further away.

Chen Moqing looked down, took in his own appearance, and understood at once, unbothered. He bit his fingertip and used his finger as a brush, drawing a talisman in the air.

Shortly after, a plain blue robe draped itself over him, concealing the expanse of pale skin. His dark hair was loosely gathered with a wooden hairpin, a few strands left to fall behind him at the waist.

His original appearance was veiled and replaced with a new face—unremarkable features, forgotten the moment you looked away.

Cang Shun stole a glance, then turned his head away. Not worth looking at.

Two seconds passed, and he turned back for another glance.

Two more seconds, and another glance.

...For reasons unknown, even though this detestable human had already changed his appearance, his eyes simply refused to be pried away.

...It was definitely because of that wretched contract!

Paying no mind to a certain Demon Emperor raking at the ground, Chen Moqing turned his attention inward to examine his own spiritual sea.

In his early cultivation years, he had once stepped directly from the peak of Qi Refinement to the middle of Foundation Building in a single stride. Now, though his spiritual power was sufficient, an extraordinarily powerful obstruction stood between him and breaking through to Foundation Building.

—The Withered Spring Wood Revival Decree.

That vivid red token hung suspended above his spiritual sea, cutting across it like a towering cliff that rose straight from the earth, blocking the way before him.

From this point on, at every major cultivation breakthrough, he would be forced to scale this cliff—each one another ascension to heaven in its own right.

Should he fail, it would not be a mere setback to his cultivation. He would die on the spot, his soul scattered to nothing, never again to enter the cycle of reincarnation.

Chen Moqing's consciousness stood still at the foot of the cliff, gazing up at that suspended token—much as, tens of thousands of years ago, the first immortal to ascend must have looked up at the heavens.

Then let us see.

Whether you can make me fall again.

At some point Cang Shun had wandered back to Chen Moqing's side. He swept a glance at the talisman script slowly dissolving in the air and gave a faint, dismissive sound.

【So you are a talisman cultivator.】

He had assumed this person was a sword cultivator—after all, of all the dim-witted cultivators in the world, sword cultivators claimed the lion's share.

Chen Moqing smiled lightly, his blue robe rippling in the breeze, dark hair falling at his side: "I am leaving."

Cang Shun ignored him.

Chen Moqing: "I have heard that the Demon Emperor's fur is like dragon liver and phoenix marrow, a supreme treasure of the heavenly order."

Cang Shun: "?"

Chen Moqing pointed to one side: "You do not want those, I presume?"

Over these past days, this Demon Emperor had been rolling around everywhere and had shed quite a lot of fur on his own.

When the killing energy had surged violently just a moment ago, it had not managed to carry away a single one of these snow-white tufts scattered all around.

Cang Shun opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. He glared at Chen Moqing for a moment, then coldly turned his head away.

He was far too dignified to bicker with the weak.

Chen Moqing: "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Cang Shun: "......"

Well. He even knew to use a respectful form of address.

It took Chen Moqing the better part of a day to gather up the scattered snow-white tufts. He rolled them into several small fuzzy balls between his palms, tucked them into his sleeve, folded his hands together, gave Cang Shun a respectful bow, and turned to leave.

Cang Shun remained sprawled on the grass, gazing up at the sky, flicking his tail at an unhurried pace.

Not even a cup of tea's time later, Chen Moqing came back, and stood staring at Cang Shun without a word.

He could not move beyond fifteen feet of this great demon.

It seemed that his blood, having soaked into the very ground where the Demon Emperor had fallen, had not only awakened this slumbering great demon but also forged an invisible contract between them.

Cang Shun had anticipated this. He narrowed his eyes with pleasure, flicked his long fluffy tail, and tilted his chin slightly upward.

The very picture of 'come beg Benzun then'.

Chen Moqing stepped forward and, with perfect precision, pinched the scruff of the snow-white beast's soft neck—and lifted the Demon Emperor clean off the ground, exactly as one would pick up a kitten.

Cang Shun: "???"

【How dare you—】

Suspended helplessly in midair with his soft belly exposed, the snow-white beast flailed its paws furiously, mewing and wailing at the top of its lungs, and puffed up once more into one enormous fluffy ball.

And was carried off, all fluffed up, by Chen Moqing.

—

T/N:

1). The Great Path (大道, dà dào)

In Xianxia, the Path (道, Dào), also rendered as "the Way", represents the fundamental underlying principle and force governing all of existence. The Great Path, meanwhile, carries a more specific meaning. It refers to the ultimate truth and supreme law of the universe that cultivators strive to comprehend and merge with. Reaching the Great Path means attaining the highest possible state of existence likes transcending the mortal world, mastering the laws of heaven and earth, and achieving a form of cosmic enlightenment or true immortality.

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