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April 7 - April 11, 2023
Shen Jiu had wanted to go with him but had been forbidden to do so. Therefore he continued to terrorize the streets, a scourge to everyone in his path.
Haughtily riding astride the beast was a spirited and youthful young master. His face was fair and striking, his brows and eyes slender. Where the light struck his dark irises, two brilliant pinpoints shone, the effect blindingly piercing. His purple hem fluttered against both sides of his saddle, his narrow sleeves sat snug around his wrists, and in his pale hand, he gripped a jet-black whip.
As it turned out, when that young master on horseback had taken his guards past the street entrance, he’d glanced sideways and spotted Shiwu and the other children on the street corner. “Where are they from?” he’d asked, wrinkling his nose. “They’re beggar children, Young Master Qiu,” said a guard.
Shiwu had been unwilling to leave so easily, not after he’d finally managed to snatch away Shen Jiu’s territory. He yelled angrily, “What gives you the right to kick us out—” He’d wanted to finish with, “You don’t own this street,” but then that youthful young master waved his hand. A dark shadow descended, slashing a bloody whip mark onto Shiwu’s face.
Whenever Qiu Jianluo was in front of Haitang, he always played the good older brother. In the past, he’d wished his sister would never marry, and now that Shen Jiu was here, he began to hatch an alternative plan. Qiu Haitang loved Shen Jiu very much. If Shen Jiu were properly educated, Qiu Jianluo could turn him into a brother-in-law on the cheap.
Yue Qi had insisted on retrieving Shiwu and the other children. Right away, he’d almost collided with the hooves of Qiu Jianluo’s horse. In that instant, Shen Jiu forgot Yue Qi’s warnings—that it would be best not to reveal their rudimentary immortal arts to others. He transformed metal into a sharp blade and stabbed it into the horse, straight to the bone.
If they hadn’t saved Shiwu, he would have been trampled to death beneath the Qiu family’s hooves. He’d kept his sorry life only to betray them.
SHEN JIU THOUGHT a lot about why Yue Qi never returned to look for him. Perhaps he’d been discovered while making his escape, and the human traffickers had broken his legs. Perhaps he had been unable to find any food on his journey and, being unwilling to beg, he’d starved to death. Perhaps his potential had been too meager, so none of the immortal mountains had been willing to take him in. Shen Jiu even imagined walking to the ends of the earth looking for Yue Qi’s remains, and how, after finding them, he would dig him a grave with his own two hands. Perhaps he would even do his best to shed
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When Yue Qi discovered him, he must have been stunned frozen by Shen Jiu’s ghastly appearance, for he didn’t even register the disciples’ bodies on the ground and instead took two steps toward him. Shen Jiu shivered and abruptly looked up. The moment Yue Qi got a clear look at his face, both of them paled into a bloodless white.
Wu Yanzi had a set of Cursed Black Light talismans. Countless times, Shen Jiu had witnessed Wu Yanzi toss out one of these paper talismans when at a disadvantage and score a kill by catching his opponent off guard. More than one famous cultivator had failed to escape this sinister maneuver.
Therefore, right when Wu Yanzi was about to throw a talisman, Shen Jiu stabbed a sword through his back. Yue Qi grabbed his hand and frantically sprinted away.
Shen Jiu waited for some time, but the next words never came. So he said, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’m still waiting. I’ve already waited so many years, after all. Waiting a little longer will be nothing.” But how could Yue Qingyuan say anything?
Some people were rotten from birth. Shen Jiu thought of himself in exactly this way—someone vile and poisonous from the start. Because, at that instant, he came to a crystal-clear realization: That he’d rather have met a Yue Qi who’d died in some unknown corner, his remains unsightly and forgotten, than a Yue Qingyuan who was elegant and powerful, his prospects and future boundless.
SHEN JIU HATED far too many people and far too many things. Obviously, people found it hard to say anything good about the character of someone who hated everything. So fortunately, by the time he became Shen Qingqiu, he understood he ought to at least keep that hatred from bubbling to the surface.
Liu Qingge had achieved success in his youth; his talents were extraordinary, his spiritual energy vast, and his swordplay awe-inspiring. His family background was excellent, and both his parents were alive. Any one of these things would have been enough to make Shen Qingqiu gnash his teeth and toss and turn for three days and three nights, let alone all of them together in one person.
Indeed, Cang Qiong Mountain had never expressly ordained such a rule. But cultivators were supposed to naturally understand the concept of preserving a pure heart and nature, of exercising self-discipline—especially those of Qing Jing Peak, where the peak lords and disciples had invariably remained virtuous and unsullied.
“If you truly are doing well, why do you never spend the night on Qing Jing Peak?” Yue Qingyuan asked, following on his heels. Shen Qingqiu gave him a dark look. He knew that Yue Qingyuan must be thinking that he was being excluded by the rest of Qing Jing Peak. Yue Qingyuan’s guess wasn’t unreasonable, but he was genuinely wrong this time. Though Shen Qingqiu was unpopular among his peers, it wasn’t to the extent of being kicked out of the communal sleeping quarters. He just loathed being in close quarters with those of the same sex.
whenever one of his beatings from Qiu Jianluo was over, or whenever he had a premonition of another beating, he had crawled to Qiu Haitang’s room and remained there, quivering. As Qiu Jianluo was unwilling to let his sister see the side of him that was perverse and lunatic, that had been the only place where Shen Jiu could hide.
Liking women wasn’t the least bit shameful, but treating women like saviors, cowering within their embrace and seeking courage from them…even without anyone saying it, Shen Qingqiu knew that was horrendously shameful. So even if it meant his death, he would never tell anyone, least of all Yue Qingyuan.
Yue Qingyuan sighed. “Xiao-Jiu, why must you always act like this?” When he heard that name, Shen Qingqiu’s entire back shuddered with incomparable irritation. “Don’t call me that!”
All successive peak lords had addressed each other in accordance with this ranking rather than by their order of entry into the sect. Therefore, even though he’d entered the sect quite some time after Liu Qingge, because Qing Jing Peak was ranked second—only below Qiong Ding Peak—while Bai Zhan Peak was ranked seventh, Liu Qingge still had to address Shen Qingqiu as “Shixiong,” if through gritted teeth.
For every twenty questions Yue Qingyuan asked, he replied once, maintaining his distance and courtesy both, while ruminating over the techniques from his studies the night prior and contemplating other things. This was the martial arts tournament’s most comical scene every year. Perhaps the two of them didn’t realize it, but for many disciples, watching these two head disciples was the only fun to be had during the peak lords’ tedious pre-meet speeches.
Therefore, Shen Qingqiu’s decision to voluntarily come to Qiong Ding Peak not only surprised and pleased Yue Qingyuan, but practically all the disciples at the scene were jumping over themselves, banging gongs and drums as they yelled for everyone to come watch.
“Yue Qingyuan?” “I’m here.” “If you’re here, why won’t you say something?” “Isn’t it because the moment I do, you’ll find it annoying?” Shen Qingqiu snorted and laughed. “That’s right. You’re very annoying. So you know it too!”
“I heard that sometimes, they’ll shut disciples and other sect members inside the Ling Xi Caves—like those who are experiencing a qi deviation or those who have resorted to unnatural paths. Do you think this might have been one of those situations?” After a long time, Yue Qingyuan made a noncommittal noise: “Oh.” Shen Qingqiu had received the cold shoulder, but he still squinted at a stretch of wall. “It seems that whoever this was wanted very much to leave,” he concluded. “They struggled for a long time before dying.”
Shen Qingqiu burst into laughter. “Why does Zhangmen-shixiong say such ludicrous things? What’s happened has happened! I’ve already ‘considered’ it hundreds and thousands of times! There is no ‘if,’ no ‘in the beginning’—there was never any chance of redemption!” Yue Qingyuan slowly raised his face. Shen Qingqiu knew that saying those words was as good as taking a knife and stabbing it into Yue Qingyuan’s chest.
eternally calm and collected Sect Leader Yue of Cang Qiong Mountain, was at this moment so wretched, so browbeaten, that Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but feel pity. And with this pity, something inside Shen Qingqiu’s chest, a knot that had resided within him for many years, finally came undone. With that, he came to the cheerful conclusion that Yue Qingyuan had truly done everything he could; he’d gone above and beyond to fulfill the calls of both kindness and duty. Regardless of how much guilt weighed down his heart, his debt had long since been repaid in full.
Holding Xuan Su across both hands, Yue Qingyuan offered it to Shen Qingqiu. “If you still hold such hatred, draw Xuan Su and take my life.” Shen Qingqiu scoffed. “You ask me to kill you here, Sect Leader Yue? Are you unsatisfied with the crimes Luo Binghe’s already charged me with? You think them too few? Besides, who do you think you are? My hatred will be resolved as long as I kill you? I’m far beyond cure; I hate everything. Don’t blame this humble Shen for any disrespect or mockery, but if Sect Leader Yue considers himself that very cure, he thinks too highly of himself!”
Originally, this disciple wanted to bring Sect Leader Yue’s body back to show Shizun, but the arrows had been drenched in a rare poison. When he got close and touched them, even slightly, Sect Leader Yue just… Alas, I could only retrieve his sword; let’s call it a memento for Shizun.”
Shen Qingqiu didn’t understand. In Huan Hua Palace’s Water Prison, upon their last meeting with each other, he’d done his utmost to be callous, cruel, and sarcastic. He’d told Yue Qingyuan to get lost, and Yue Qingyuan had done so. Shen Qingqiu had been uncertain if that letter of blood would call him here. But no normal person, if they were of sound thought, would step into such a blatant, undisguised trap. He still didn’t understand. I thought you weren’t coming.
This was far too comical. Once, he’d waited days and nights for that person, and he hadn’t come. And now, when he’d never thought that person would, he just had to.
With a wave of his hand, he cast Xuan Su’s fragments onto the ground. When Shen Qingqiu heard the resulting clatter, it was as if his throat had been slashed with an invisible knife—his laughter instantly stopped.
Therefore, this weird little thing, being both ugly and a pain, was extremely unpopular on the southern border. Upon seeing it for the first time, even an educated noble like Tianlang-Jun stared it up and down for a while before he said with all sincerity, “It’s so ugly.” As was to be expected, the black-armored generals standing apathetically behind him said nothing. “Far too ugly,” Tianlang-Jun repeated. It was uncertain who he was complaining to.
Tianlang-Jun gracefully shifted into a half crouch, staring at it. “Do you remember your mother?” It shook its head. “Oh,” said Tianlang-Jun. “That’s good too. If I had that kind of mother, I too would prefer not to remember her.”
Tianlang-Jun seemed to find this dull. “All right,” he said dryly. “I’ve seen to her last request. All of these are your subordinates. From here on out, this plot of land will be yours.”
Tianlang-Jun’s was a special existence: his blood was noble and his status extraordinary, so naturally he had no shortage of enemies. As the snake-man followed, countless rabble came to make trouble for him. Despite Tianlang-Jun clearly having no need for outside help, the snake-man always stepped up to fight with all its might, offering its meager martial ability.
It never would have guessed that in the next moment, Tianlang-Jun would place a bare hand on its head and sigh. “Both ugly and stubborn; I can’t stand to watch this any longer.” A strange and gentle flow, both warm and cold, coursed through all its limbs and bones. But how could it have limbs? The snake-man realized very quickly that, without its knowledge, four perfectly whole limbs had sprouted from its once-deformed torso.
It was the body of a youth. The body’s age was around fifteen to sixteen, its complexion fair and figure slender, healthy and whole. Tianlang-Jun moved his hand away, his pitch-black irises reflecting a white silhouette. While holding the youth’s chin, he said, “I think this looks a bit better. Any thoughts?”
Though Zhuzhi-Lang firmly believed that his lord could do no wrong, he secretly thought that his lord’s brain actually wasn’t too sharp. Even after receiving tacit permission to stay at Tianlang-Jun’s side, for a long period of time, Zhuzhi-Lang had no name.
“By tender green willows over placid river waters / I listen to my lover sing his song on the shore. / The sun rises from the east as rain dims the west / Here clear skies and dark mingle in concord.” Bamboo Branch Song, Zhuzhi-Ci.
His nephew didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “My lord, only nobles can use such a title.” “So particular even at your tender age,” said Tianlang-Jun. “Fine, then we’ll call you Zhuzhi-Lang.”
Tianlang-Jun truly loved any and everything to do with humans. He probably felt that demons were a cold and boring lot. Yet when it came to humans, he nursed a strange passion for and a beautiful mental image of that foreign race, almost to an exaggerated extent.
Even when he was meeting with that Maiden Su, neither of them minded Zhuzhi-Lang tagging along. As if of one mind, they both pretended Zhuzhi-Lang was a real snake who could understand neither normal conversation nor more intimate exchanges; they focused on each other and acted like he wasn’t there.
As for what Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan’s first meeting was like, Zhuzhi-Lang didn’t witness it himself; at the time he had, at Tianlang-Jun’s request, been standing in line for a famous author’s newest work.
Tianlang-Jun said from his seat on his head, “In the plays I’ve read, maidens from the Human Realm are unanimously gentle as water, considerate and charming; hence, I thought that all maidens would be like this. So. I’ve been lied to. Zhuzhi-Lang, one can’t read too many plays.”
Then, when Zhuzhi-Lang was doing his laundry, Tianlang-Jun crouched gracefully beside him while saying, “Zhuzhi-Lang, what do you think of my face? Is it not handsome? Typically speaking, shouldn’t anyone who beholds my face immediately transform into a young woman tenderly budding into love?”
He didn’t know what other people were like, but the way his lord was acting now was really rather akin to the lovestruck teenage girls in those books. Therefore, he inevitably became curious.
a maiden who entered an abandoned town filled with troublemaking demons all by herself, who while dispatching evil spirits had told Tianlang-Jun to sing and play his music farther away so he wouldn’t get in the way, and who after dispatching them had handed Tianlang-Jun three silvers, saying that it was money for his trip home, well…
“If one sights an injustice while on the road,” said Tianlang-Jun, “should they not draw their sword to give aid?” “If it’s a matter of drawing her sword, this humble one will consider it,” said the woman. “Conversely, if it’s a matter of opening her purse, this humble one refuses—for you have yet to return the three silvers I lent you last time.” “Is that so?” said Tianlang-Jun. “It’s only three silvers. All right, if you lend me three more, you can purchase me for three days.” The woman flatly refused. “Your distinguished self doesn’t look strong enough to carry any burdens; rather he looks
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“Let’s put all that aside for now,” said Tianlang-Jun. “Surely my face can’t be worth less than three silvers!” The woman choked a little, then studied his face for a while and smiled. “Mm, true, it’s worth that much.” Then she tossed him a heavy ingot of gold. From then on, it was as if a dam had broken, and Tianlang-Jun’s expenditures in the Human Realm burst out like a flood. He became even more unrestrained, even more unfettered, to the point that it was terrifying to watch. He’d found a rich patron, a mountain of gold.
