Chapter 96: Song Yilou: Since the Guanzhu Wants to Kill, Then They Should Die part 1
“I’m the one restraining?”
The word “restraint” didn’t exist in Song Yilou’s dictionary. If he were to restrain others, he would only use intimidation, threats, or Gu—none of which worked on Yun Wuxiang.
“Does ‘restraint’ mean the Guanzhu has to listen to me?”
Song Yilou instantly brightened up. He grabbed Yun Wuxiang’s hand and said with a face full of joy, “In that case, let’s try a soul-union first!”
The topic jumped without any logic straight to the adult channel.
Yun Wuxiang reached out expressionlessly and covered that face, which was written all over with selfishness and unreliability.
In this moment where rationality held sway, he couldn’t help but begin to doubt if his decision was correct.
“I don’t have a fetish for ‘field combat’.”
“What’s field combat?” Between the fingers, a pair of ghostly pupils revealed a studious look.
Yun Wuxiang refused to explain. “Forget that word.”
Song Yilou was suddenly excited. “I remember now! It was in Yun Xinyang’s memories… Hmm? Guanzhu, you really don’t want to try?”
“I don’t.”
“Field combat under a lightning tribulation! No one has ever tried that! Tribulations don’t happen often; if we don’t try this time, we’ll have to wait a long time for another chance. Come on, come on~”
A massive pillar of lightning erupted from a rift in the sky, slamming down. The already stable shadow of the Black-and-White Floating Life Flower wavered again. Countless tiny bolts of lightning, like snakes seeking a foe, twisted their bodies to strike the two of them even if they had to take a detour.
This bolt of lightning was wrong. No one had ever heard of a lightning strike that had already hit a defensive treasure curving around to strike the people inside.
The event was sudden, and the lightning fell with incredible speed. Before Yun Wuxiang could even pull out a talisman, the two of them were struck squarely by a bolt.
After spitting out the pillar of lightning, the crack in the clouds curved downward at both ends, as if expressing disdain and displeasure.
On the charred earth, two tattered figures lay side by side.
Song Yilou squinted at the receding clouds. “What was that thing just now?”
Yun Wuxiang lay beside him, closing his eyes as the sunlight began to filter through the rifts in the clouds. “In the sky, what else is there that can control a lightning tribulation?”
It even found the time to watch someone else’s tribulation while in the middle of its own advancement. While everyone was busy helping the World Consciousness with its “pre-recorded” promotion, it seemed to be quite idle.
“Isn’t it said that the Heavenly Dao is heartless? That thing must be a fake, right?” Song Yilou said sarcastically.
Yun Wuxiang could tell from his tone that the fellow was holding a grudge, but he agreed that the Heavenly Dao was being far too lively.
“It might be a side effect of the virus.”
The ghostly scorpion, who grew up eating toxic insects, had a skewed focus. “A virus? Can it be eaten?”
“A virus isn’t a toxin; it’s a pollution of rules, the claws of an invader.” Yun Wuxiang paused briefly. “I’m not sure if it can be eaten. I’ll send a message to ask Yun Xinyang.”
He pinched a communication talisman between two fingers, and the paper dissolved into points of light.
Demon Realm, Nine Sovereigns Secret Realm.
“A letter from Wuxiang, let me see…” Once Yun Xinyang finished reading the message, the thin mist obscured his expression. Only his stationary figure conveyed his bizarre emotions.
“A virus… can it be eaten?”
[How would I know? No one has ever entertained such a thought! It’s a virus—who would want to eat that? Host, would you?]
“I wouldn’t, but Song Yilou would,” Yun Xinyang spoke the truth sincerely.
[…] There was no way to refute that.
After hearing the message, Yun Xinyang knew exactly who Yun Wuxiang was asking for. Although his brother could be brutal at times, his brain was definitely a normal one.
After all, his brother’s memory and brain template were based on him.
“A virus… does it count as a type of poison?” Although he kept a respectful distance from the idea of eating a virus, the question itself was indeed intriguing.
[The system database has no answer for this question. Please judge for yourself.]
[Recommendation: Do not court death.]
“What use is a recommendation to me? I don’t plan on eating it. I’ll reply to Wuxiang first… Maybe I should go ask Teacher and Mr. Bai. Mr. Bai might be able to calculate a result.” Yun Xinyang rubbed his chin in thought.
“Uncle Yun, did Shifu send you a message?” a voice suddenly rang out behind him.
Yun Xinyang shuddered and turned to find Shen Lanqing wearing a gentle, refined smile, looking as fresh as a willow tree in spring.
“What did Shifu say?”
“He just asked a question.” Yun Xinyang felt inexplicably guilty.
Shen Lanqing pressed, “A question related to Song Yilou?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
Shen Lanqing’s smile remained, but Yun Xinyang felt the sky had darkened by a degree. Instinct prompted him to change the subject. “Lanqing, did you need something?”
“I was just passing by. Two more demons were making trouble, so I have to waste my time hanging them up for public display. I was just about to find Junior Brother Liu Zhu to get some miniature sun orbs to hang over their heads so these demons learn their lesson,” Shen Lanqing said mildly.
“Those two demons… they wouldn’t happen to be Water Demons, would they?”
“They are. I also asked Junior Brother to forge a water prison for the Fire Demons; it should be ready in a few days. Junior Brother Liu Zhu’s smithing skills are truly excellent—he is worthy of being a disciple Shifu handpicked.”
Shen Lanqing’s smile was warm, like a spring breeze. “Does Uncle Yun have any commands?”
“No, go ahead. I have things to do. By the way… don’t be too heavy-handed. Those demons still have work to do,” Yun Xinyang added a worried word for the demons.
“Rest assured, Uncle. I know my limits. I won’t damage Shifu’s property.”
Shen Lanqing said calmly, “Demons are a race that lacks discipline. They only become obedient after being beaten severely. Until then, any communication is a waste of breath.”
Yun Xinyang: “…”
Nephew, what kind of ominous declaration are you making with such a straight face?
Wuxiang, how are you teaching your disciple?
Ah, come to think of it, his brother’s style was exactly the same—strike first without hesitation, and beat them into submission if they don’t listen, like an impatient tyrant.
They truly are master and disciple.
At least Lanqing liked to smile more. Look at how approachable and kind his nephew looked… making those kinds of remarks with that expression is even scarier!
“Uncle Yun.”
“Ah—ah?!”
Shen Lanqing: “Weren’t you going to find Mr. Bai? Let’s go together.”
“Oh, okay.” Yun Xinyang felt something was off. It wasn’t until they had walked together for a distance that he realized.
“Weren’t you going to find Liu Zhu?”
Shen Lanqing: “No rush. I want to hear the results of Mr. Bai’s divination for Shifu first.”
“Oh.”
“And while I’m at it, I’ll ask when I can go to the Immortal Realm.” Shen Lanqing’s tone was casual and natural, as if he were really just asking in passing.
Yun Xinyang’s fingers twitched.
That’s your real goal, isn’t it? Do you even know how fake your smile looks?
Wuxiang, just how are you raising this kid?!
[Wuxiang, 39 can’t find any related cases.]
[My teacher suggests it would be safer after you become a Daoist Sovereign, so that you can control Song Yilou if any strange mutations occur.]
[Finally, can you take Lanqing with you next time you go out? Being a left-behind child is not good for a kid’s mental health!]
A trace of confusion flashed in Yun Wuxiang’s eyes. Was something wrong with his eldest disciple?
Lanqing had always been very worry-free; even when his brain was muddled by the plot, he was still obedient.
“What is the Guanzhu listening to?”
A head suddenly leaned in. Yun Wuxiang said, “A virus should be edible, but your cultivation isn’t high enough yet. We’ll talk after you become a Sovereign.”
“A Sovereign… that’ll take too long. Anyway, Guanzhu, did you really turn that damned thing off?”
Song Yilou scrutinized Yun Wuxiang’s face. “Why do I feel like you haven’t changed at all?”
Yun Wuxiang: “Be patient. Give the threads of emotion some time to grow.”
“How much time is ‘some time’?” Song Yilou puffed out his cheeks. The adult face making this expression wasn’t as cute as the youth’s, but it added a sense of contrast like a predator acting spoiled.
It had to be said that Yun Wuxiang, who saw himself as a “keeper,” was very susceptible to this.
“I don’t know. It’s my first time growing such things. Ten years should be enough,” Yun Wuxiang estimated with uncertainty.
“Ten years?” Song Yilou bit into the side of Yun Wuxiang’s neck. “Ten days!”
“Then perform well and let me find a feeling of heart-thumping within ten days.”
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