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Chapter 58: Shedding Fur or Not
"Senior Brother?"
The clouds and seas above Tianshu Sect were always cold, as cold as the hearts of the people there. The so-called foremost sect under heaven was nothing more than a glacier frozen for ten thousand years, a silent, lifeless field of snow.
"What a coincidence, you're here too."
But even in the coldest snowfields, one could always find a single patch of scenery unlike any other. In the long nights that followed, Gongsun Bushi would always find himself recalling that day the snow blanketed the mountains and rivers, that brief moment he had watched the snow with that person in the pavilion at the heart of the lake.
That person had come riding the wind and snow, porcelain-pale fingers lifting the hanging curtain at the pavilion's eaves, drawing a paper-wrapped bundle from his sleeve and unfolding it—a stack of pastries white as snow.
"Freshly made. Would you like to try some?"
Osmanthus cakes—such a lowly, mortal thing, belonging to neither Tianshu Sect nor the upper prefectures, just like that person himself, who came from some remote place whose very name no one had ever heard—and yet, he'd been told, that place had lovely mountains and clear waters, a great river cutting through the peaks, bamboo groves reflecting their clear shadows.
Amid the frozen snow and ice, that person had carried a faint fragrance about him too, a single bamboo leaf drifted in from somewhere far away.
The osmanthus cake crumbled silently to snow-like dust between his fingers. He turned his head and saw a single, crystal-clear, six-pointed snowflake swirl into the lakeside pavilion, settling onto that person's raven-feather lashes.
If only he belonged to him.
Green bamboo could not survive long in winter—and so, later, that person had died in a winter too.
He hadn't needed to die at all.
For the Gongsun clan, a family of immense, long-lived power, preserving one person's life would have been the easiest thing in the world—it would only have meant subjecting him to a bit more suffering. His spiritual roots ruined, his talent still intact, he would have made the finest cauldron in the world.
An elder of the Gongsun clan had already marked him for that purpose, and even a few of the ancient monsters of Tianshu Sect had shown interest, tossing out the suggestion: cripple his limbs, lock him away in the sect's forbidden grounds, hidden from all outside eyes.
Even as a cauldron, bowing his head and bending his back, he could have gone on living. Once he himself took power over the Gongsun clan one day, he would never have let him suffer within the sect—he would have taken him back into the clan, erased his memories, stripped away his past as a mere cauldron, and from then on, he would have belonged to him alone, for dual cultivation with no one else.
But that green bamboo would rather let the snow crush it to ruin than bend itself for him.
Afterward, every beautiful man he kept in his courtyard bore a small mole at the corner of the eye—and yet, no matter how he looked, not one of them resembled him.
No one in this world resembled him.
...Did they?
Gongsun Bushi jolted awake from the nightmare once more, the pain of his chest being pierced through so vivid it even eclipsed the agony of being shattered to pieces by heavenly lightning the time before.
Like a drowning man, he thrashed and coughed violently, eyes bulging, staring straight up at the sky—
High above, black robes stood stern and severe, dark gold patterns rippling across the fabric, like ribbons of sword-light flowing and rippling, slicing through the heavens.
That person looked down at him from above, his ink-dark eyes utterly still, without joy, without anger—only looking down.
How could... how could he look so alike?
That gaze—it was unmistakably the same as his—dwelling high above the clouds, regarding everything below as nothing more than ants.
Gongsun Bushi burst into wild laughter, dropping to his knees, dragging his bleeding legs as he strained to reach a hand up toward the sky.
He had finally found it... a perfect mirror.
If only he could hold it in his hands...
Thud.
His severed arm dropped to the ground. Gongsun Bushi froze for a moment before searing pain swept over him, and just as before, he screamed in agony.
...
The vast silver mirror's sea of clouds churned and surged, spitting out a blood-soaked, mangled body.
The instant that broken, half-dead body was flung out of the secret realm, a faint beam of light shot out from Tianshu Sect's immortal ship, enveloping him and pulling him back aboard in an instant.
The viewing platforms remained utterly silent, no one daring to speak openly. At the entrance to the secret realm, the two Deity Transformation cultivators of the Hei family were already drenched in sweat, staring in slack-jawed disbelief.
The second disciple of Tianshu Sect's own Sect Master, Gongsun Bushi, an early Deity Transformation stage cultivator, one of the most celebrated talents across the Nine Thousand Prefectures... had been killed eight times in a row!
Eight substitute life-tokens, a full eight times!
After being killed the first time, Gongsun Bushi had quickly recovered his wits and summoned his own life-bound sword. A single strike from a Deity Transformation sword cultivator was earth-shattering—enough to shatter even the deep cliff itself—and yet it hadn't been able to withstand the blazing heavenly lightning of that black-robed talent!
From start to finish, that black-robed talent had used only eight talismans to strike down a sword cultivator eight times!
He wasn't a body cultivator at all—he was a talisman cultivator of supreme talent! At least on par with Deity Transformation, if not beyond it!
"Everyone, when did the Nine Thousand Prefectures gain such a dazzling new talent? Does anyone know his name?"
A long, drawn-out voice rang out across the viewing platforms, startling most of those present.
The only ones who would dare speak up at a time like this, with no regard even for Tianshu Sect... could only be the Qiushui Sect, which likewise had a cultivator at the peak of Mahayana in its ranks.
Tianshu Sect's immortal ship gave no response at all. Soon, several voices rose up nearby: "I thought his close-combat skills were impressive before, but who would've guessed he's an even more formidable talisman cultivator!"
"To use talismans in close combat against a sword cultivator, and suppress him to such a degree—terrifying, truly terrifying!"
"There's no one like that in the upper prefectures. Could it be another monster risen from the lower prefectures?"
Within the halls of Jinwu Sect, a hoarse voice spoke up: "A Deity Transformation talisman cultivator suddenly appearing out of nowhere, wielding soul path techniques long since fallen into obscurity, with such shocking mastery in both talisman and soul path... does anyone here truly believe he's just a talent barely three hundred years old?"
From a distant pavilion, someone chimed in in agreement: "The Sima family that was wiped out some years back, their second elder also cultivated soul path. Thinking back on it now, could it be that some soul path demonic cultivator had set his sights on him, and that's what brought ruin down upon the Sima family?"
"Are you elders suggesting that some demonic cultivator has concealed his true age, disguised himself as a young talent, and slipped into the tournament?"
"Heh, this old one never said any such thing."
"What kind of demonic cultivator could possibly deceive all your eyes, such that not a single great sect or clan here could see through his disguise?" It was still that same voice drifting from within the Qiushui Sect's painted barge, smooth and pleasant to the ear. "What I see with my own eyes is plainly a young talent."
"That's a mistaken notion. Demonic cultivators are ruthless and without scruple, and they excel above all at disguise, countless numbers of them have even resorted to possessing others' bodies. Their outward appearance means nothing at all!"
The words had barely finished when someone spoke up from within the light boat of the Chu family of Luowu Prefecture: "It's far too early to make such claims. There's no evidence whatsoever proving he's a demonic cultivator. Perhaps it's simply that Gongsun Bushi grew too careless and was caught off guard. Let's all wait and see a while longer!"
Aboard Tianshu Sect's immortal ship, shielded from the outside by a barrier, a cold voice spoke: "Go to the northern border of the Zhou Kingdom. Check whether the seal has loosened."
"Yes, I'll set out at once!"
Within the secret realm, ten thousand li of forest sea gave way to dark red earth, barren, cracked ground where nothing grew, with the occasional tongue of flame bursting up from deep underground.
Chen Moqing had already left the soul sea behind, cradling a little ball of fluff as he made his way south.
Cang Shun looked up at him, quietly tugging at the corner of his sleeve.
"What's wrong?" Chen Moqing lowered his eyes, scratching at this little ball of fluff that seemed to be lost in thought. "Does Mimi want some osmanthus cake?"
【...No】 A faint voice sounded, low. The little snow-white beast shifted, pressing Chen Moqing's hand beneath its soft belly.
【If only I'd woken up sooner, and found you sooner】
Cang Shun's eyes darkened.
If he'd been there, he never would have stood by and let his human be bullied like this by those insects.
Best of all would have been to wake a hundred years earlier, snatch his human up the moment he was born and raise him himself, stuff him full of countless heavenly treasures and earthly wonders, give him the highest standing there was, so that all of the Nine Thousand Prefectures would bow before him, not even daring to lift their eyes to look at him.
The Demon Emperor's tail swished back and forth. He hopped up onto the young man's shoulder, pressing his head close, nuzzling against his cheek again and again.
That insect's gaze just now had been thoroughly disgusting. Once they were out of the secret realm, he wouldn't be leaving those repulsive eyes intact.
Feeling the soft fur against the side of his face, Chen Moqing smiled faintly. "If we'd met earlier, Your Majesty the Demon Emperor might not have paid me any mind at all."
The moment the words left his mouth, the little snow-white beast on his shoulder immediately lifted its head. 【I would too!】
"Back then, we wouldn't have had a contract," Chen Moqing said, giving that slender tail another flick, his tone teasing. "Your Majesty the Demon Emperor, busy with all manner of important affairs, likely wouldn't have had much time to spend with me."
Cang Shun stole a glance at his face and said nothing.
That wasn't true at all.
The instant he'd first laid eyes on his human... he hadn't wanted to leave.
Once all this was settled, he'd carry his human back to his den, and hold... hold a bonding ceremony with him.
What should he wear for a bonding ceremony? He seemed to like white best, though he often wore blue-green and black too.
He looked good in anything.
The little ball of fluff quietly burrowed into the crook of Chen Moqing's shoulder, tucking itself into a soft little bundle.
The tips of its snow-white fur had, for some reason, taken on a faint tinge of pink.
Chen Moqing poked at that faintly pink, fluffy little bundle, and watching it wordlessly burrow further into his collar, the corner of his mouth curved up.
Crimson stretched across the sky, the air scorching hot, thick with an intense fire-element aura.
This was a volcanic island in the southern reaches of the Eastern Emperor Secret Realm, called Extreme Flame Island. The soul path fruit condensed from the Immortal Soul Sea needed to be catalyzed by the magma at the island's core and consumed by fire's heat as soon as possible.
Chen Moqing, the faintly pink little fluffball tucked against him, approached the island. Before he'd even landed, a furious roar rang out—a blood-red lion beast, eyes blazing wide, leapt into the air, its bloody maw gaping wide as it lunged at him.
Without so much as a glance, his black robes flared as he raised a finger and tapped once.
Countless runes flew out, transforming into chains that pinned the demonic beast in place.
Drip. Drip.
Blood fell from the air, splattering as it struck the ground.
Chen Moqing turned his head. The chains hadn't harmed the demonic beast in the slightest, and yet the lion beast was already drenched in blood, not a patch of unbroken skin left on its entire body—and even so, pinned in place, it kept roaring furiously, straining with all its might to break free, utterly heedless of the wounds tearing wider with every movement.
"Utterly useless!"
Not far off, an angry voice rang out as a cultivator stormed forward, seething with rage.
"How useless can you be, unable to even manage an ambush!"
At the sound of that scolding voice, the furiously roaring lion beast's aura of violence instantly withdrew, letting out a whimper as it slowly lowered its massive head.
Chen Moqing's expression didn't change as he snapped his fingers.
The runes scattered, the chains vanished, and freed from restraint, the lion beast immediately turned and limped back to the cultivator's side, dragging its bloodied, wounded leg.
Chen Moqing remained where he stood, scooping the little fluffball up from his shoulder.
There was no mistaking it, that was a demonic pet.
Demonic pets were mostly demonic beasts—unlike the demon race, demonic beasts could not take human form, and most had not yet developed sentience, much like ordinary animals of the mortal world, except that they carried innate spiritual power and could cultivate on instinct.
Once a cultivator captured a demonic beast, they would form a contract with it—most commonly a forced master-servant contract, under which the beast had to obey its master's every command, its life and death resting entirely on the master's whim. There were also contracts of equal partnership, in which the two traveled together and helped each other in turn—and a rare few cultivators needed no contract at all, able to make demonic beasts follow them willingly.
At the scorching edge of the volcano, the blood-soaked lion beast whimpered, trying to press closer to its master, only to be kicked away. "Useless creature!"
The beast was already gravely wounded, and that kick landed with brutal force, tearing open several of its deep, long wounds once more, drawing out whimper after whimper, now tinged with something close to sobbing.
The cultivator remained unmoved, watching coldly as the low-whimpering beast dragged its crippled leg, trembling as it circled around him—not daring to draw closer, yet unwilling to move away.
Cang Shun glanced over, gently tugging at Chen Moqing's sleeve. Chen Moqing simply produced an item and tossed it over.
The cultivator caught it and looked, a bottle of healing pills, and immediately broke into a smile. "Now that's a fine gift, much obliged, fellow Daoist! That beast was in the wrong just now, daring to bite someone at random, please don't hold it against it!"
As he spoke, he tucked the pills straight into his storage pouch, paying not the slightest mind to the beast bleeding freely at his feet.
Cang Shun let out a cold laugh, a flash of chill light passing through his eyes.
The cultivator's body jolted, a sharp pain lancing through his skull, and he suddenly sensed it—the master-servant contract binding him to that beast had been severed!
An imperial edict from the Demon Emperor superseded any contract!
Just as the cultivator stood there, stunned and uncomprehending, the lion beast slowly rose, casting one deep, lingering look at its former master, then fled into the distance without a backward glance.
"Beast! Get back here!"
The cultivator cried out in alarm, hurrying after it, but the lion beast was like a streak of blazing fire, vanishing into the earth in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace.
The surroundings fell quiet. Chen Moqing lowered his lashes, meeting a pair of round, wide beast-eyes. "Mimi's technique for severing contracts is quite practiced."
Cang Shun: "......"
The little snow-white beast looked left, then right, ears twitching upright, tail swishing back and forth, as if he had no idea what Chen Moqing was talking about.
What contract? No idea. He certainly hadn't severed any contract.
The closer they drew to the volcano's mouth, the more scorching the air became. Chen Moqing teased the little fluffball in his arms, threatening to shave off its fur to help it cool down, earning himself a hand full of rubbed-off fluff in retaliation, before finding a spot rich with spiritual energy and settling down to sit.
According to the ancient texts, Extreme Flame Island erupted once every six hours, at which point the magma from the earth's core would surface, and it was this magma that could be used to catalyze the soul fruit of the Immortal Soul Sea.
The moment hadn't yet come. Chen Moqing took a bag of small dried fish from his storage pouch, set it beside the little snow-white beast that kept poking its head around, and let the fluffy creature crawl all over his legs as he closed his eyes and began cultivating.
Before long, another figure swept across the sky above, coming to a stop and peering down.
Chen Moqing didn't open his eyes, his divine sense already picking up the other's appearance.
A female cultivator in bright yellow robes, two playful little braids hanging behind her, cradling a black-and-gold mysterious turtle in her arms.
What a coincidence—it turned out to be an old acquaintance. The disciple of the Golden Core talisman cultivator Bai Yue, whom he and Cang Shun had encountered in Dongzhou Prefecture back when they'd first left the northern border of the Zhou Kingdom: Ning Lili.
When they'd first met, she'd been at the peak of Foundation Establishment; now she'd broken through to the great perfection of Golden Core. Her once-bright eyes now bore a fresh scar, an inch long, on her left eye, cutting straight through the upper and lower lids.
She had always been a genius with eight talisman path spiritual roots, and her cultivation had advanced so quickly—clear proof of the hard work she must have put in. She carried no notable spiritual treasures on her, only that one black-gold mysterious turtle as her companion.
Turtle shell, snake body, no more than an inch or so long, small in size, yet giving off an air of venerable old age—Chen Moqing recognized at a glance that this was no mere demonic beast, but a true member of the demon race.
Cang Shun's voice sounded in his ear: 【She's had good luck, managed to pick up a descendant of the Black Tortoise】
Chen Moqing sent back a voice transmission: "No wonder it looks so round and plump, unlike the others."
Cang Shun: "?"
Where was it round and plump!
Where was it good-looking!
The little snow-white beast let out a series of indignant huffs, chasing its own tail in a circle, curling itself into a round little ball.
Where was that thing better-looking than him!
Chen Moqing let out a helpless laugh, rubbing the little head butting against his robes. "Mimi's the best-looking."
The little snow-white beast fell silent, plopping itself down on his leg, puffing out its soft little chest.
Obviously.
Ning Lili circled in the sky above, somewhat on guard at first, but seeing that the black-robed cultivator merely sat with his eyes closed in quiet cultivation, and the little bird chick beside him kept hopping about with no sign of hostility toward her, she cautiously descended to the ground, the mysterious turtle in her arms.
"Fellow Daoist, what a coincidence, you're cultivating here too." She laughed lightly, her voice cheerful. "This place is so vast, why don't we join forces?"
As she spoke, the fingers of her other hand, hidden in her sleeve, moved slightly, silently tracing out a rune, her eyes never once leaving the young cultivator's face—but he didn't even lift his eyelids, simply saying, "Fine."
"It's all right." Ning Lili heard another voice, sounding directly within her spiritual sea. "He means no killing intent."
Ning Lili's smile didn't waver in the slightest as she sat down beside him, taking a small bundle from her storage pouch.
"Meeting is fate, fellow Daoist, would you like to try a treat from my hometown?"
She unwrapped the bundle to reveal neat rows of white cakes, giving off the fragrance of osmanthus.
"These are called osmanthus cakes, sweet and delicious. My master made them for me with her own hands!"
Chen Moqing opened his eyes, poking at the little snow-white beast on his leg.
Cang Shun turned his head away, refusing, and picked up a small dried fish instead.
Chen Moqing said his thanks and took a piece of osmanthus cake, taking a small bite.
Cang Shun: "......"
The demon emperor sprang up onto the young man's shoulder in a flash, leaning his head in, paw stretched out, looking very much like he wanted a nibble of the osmanthus cake in his hand.
Chen Moqing finished it off in one quick bite, then clapped his hands to show it was gone.
Cang Shun: "......"
He lay down without a sound, staring wordlessly at Chen Moqing's slender, pale fingertips.
Seeing the young cultivator accept her cake, Ning Lili's opinion of him immediately shot up, and she murmured quietly to the mysterious turtle, "He ate it! He's a good person! Can you believe it, these upper-prefecture cultivators actually turn their noses up at osmanthus cake! Clearly never had anything good to eat in their lives, how infuriating!"
Without waiting for the turtle to respond, she launched right into easy, familiar conversation with the young cultivator.
The mysterious turtle: "......"
It let out a silent sigh.
Ning Lili chattered on about this and that, sharing out half of her osmanthus cakes. They'd barely been talking for a little while when she noticed the round little bird chick in the young cultivator's arms glaring at her.
She paused for a moment, thinking to herself, why did this scene feel so... familiar?
Long ago, she'd once met a particularly clingy demonic beast too—a round little snow-white creature, something between a cat and a leopard, who loved snacks and loved monopolizing his human just as much.
She'd never forgotten it, because that fellow Daoist named "Jiang Yu" had been a great benefactor to her and her master. They'd parted ways at Qingzhu City, and it had been ten years since she'd last seen him.
In these ten years, as she traveled the world, she'd never again come across a human and demonic beast pair so close to each other, never... come across a cultivator so fine again.
"A' Bai, you always say you know everything under heaven, have you really never heard of someone named Jiang Yu?" Ning Lili said wistfully. "He was amazing. When it came to talisman path, he was in no way inferior to these upper-prefecture talents."
"If he were truly that impressive, word of him would have spread long ago," the mysterious turtle A' Bai said coldly. "Or else, he perished somewhere along the way, his Dao extinguished..."
Ning Lili gave the turtle shell an angry rap, the sound ringing out with a hollow thump. "Shut it, you!"
She looked up again to see the young cultivator nearby had gone back to cultivating with his eyes closed, and the little jet-black bird chick, which had been clinging to his leg a moment ago, had somehow made its way up to the top of his head at some point, nestling in his black hair, surveying the world below with lofty disdain, fur puffed up into a great, swollen ball.
Every so often it would lower its head to peck gently at its owner, or nuzzle against his hair crown, and after a bit of rubbing, a stray feather would drift down.
The young cultivator, without opening his eyes, precisely plucked the bit of fluff from atop his head. The little bird chick promptly leaned into his outstretched fingers, fluffing its feathers, wanting to be petted.
Ning Lili looked at that soft little bird chick, then looked at the hard, rigid turtle in her own hand.
She lifted the mysterious turtle up and gave it a shake.
"Shed your fur already, come on, shed it!"
The mysterious turtle A' Bai: "...?"
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