The grand hall fell silent. Bai Xuci frowned, searching his mind for the term “empty spirit body.”
He didn’t find it.
“…” Was it even mentioned in the original text?
Though puzzled, his worry prevailed. He cautiously asked, “And then?” He leaned forward to hear better.
Fan Yue briefly frowned, condensing a ball of light, trying to find the problem.
“Venerable Lord?” The familiar upward inflection. He looked up; Fan Yue leaned down, his ruby eyes blinking, ready to explain.
“Curious what this is?” Putting aside his doubts, he continued the conversation.
Bai Xuci straightened, replying seriously, “Of course!” His life was at stake. His eyes held a faint sadness.
Fan Yue was considering how to explain when he saw Bai Xuci pressing down on his head, forcefully pushing his ears back. He patted his hands afterward—a human habit, perfectly imitated. Or maybe not imitated…
Fan Yue’s gaze shifted; he decided to skip the previous topic and extended his hand. Black mist swirled, like a living creature.
Bai Xuci was captivated, leaning forward curiously. The mist, sensing the familiar presence, energetically shot from the palm, heading straight for Bai Xuci’s face.
“!!” He jumped back, tripping over his robe. He looked clumsy.
Fan Yue glanced at the fleeing mist; it obediently returned, transforming into…
“A funnel?” Bai Xuci said, then slowly returned, unsure what was happening.
“Yes.” Fan Yue picked up the ancient object, glanced at it, and tossed it to Bai Xuci. His sleeves billowed as he caught it.
“Thank goodness it didn’t fall on the ground…” He held the funnel, still shaken. Why had it been thrown? It almost broke! He touched it, still confused.
“Venerable Lord, what does this mean?” He looked up, stepping closer, like a curious student.
“Don’t understand?” Fan Yue raised an eyebrow, watching the little demon approach. Was he about to jump into his arms next?
Bai Xuci, examining the funnel, turned.
“No.” He looked up expectantly.
The funnel levitated. Black mist appeared, mostly supporting the funnel, some forming strands that began to enter it.
Bai Xuci tilted his head, watching intently. The mist eagerly entered the funnel and exited through the small opening as thin tendrils, swirling around Bai Xuci playfully, touching his face and nose. It tried to touch his lips but was immediately sucked back, continuing its “performance.”
“Understand now?” The golden eyes were cold.
Bai Xuci paused, poked the funnel, and asked, “My magical power… can’t be stored, right?” He understood the clear implication. Wasn’t that what Fu Lin called him—a “little funnel”?
He pouted and sighed. “It’s alright.” It sounded like self-comfort.
Fan Yue frowned; he didn’t like this reaction. But then—
“But I can live for two hundred years! That’s long!” He muttered, sounding almost pleased.
“…” Fan Yue was confused. “Aren’t you upset?”
Bai Xuci replied reflexively, “Upset about what?” He looked serious and innocent. He couldn’t store magical power; that was always the case. He usually stayed in his rabbit form to sleep, making transformation easier. He didn’t know the reason before; now he knew it was an “empty spirit body.” A new term!
The mist stopped, seemingly needing a break. A few tendrils escaped. They tried to—
“Continue.”
The mist sheepishly returned, acting like a perpetual motion machine. It looked pitiful.
Bai Xuci looked at the funnel. “Venerable Lord, will they have to keep doing this?” Wouldn’t they get tired?
“Empty spirit bodies can’t store magical power.” Fan Yue stated calmly.
Bai Xuci blinked, showing he was listening.
“…” Fan Yue felt bored. Hiding his irritation, he continued, “But they purify magical power. Cultivators with stagnant or impure power seek out empty spirit bodies to serve them.”
He paused, seeming to remember something interesting. He continued, “Empty spirit bodies absorb magical power weakly; they purify little magical power. But there’s a special case…”
Bai Xuci, intently listening, saw Fan Yue’s lengthening tone and looked at him expectantly. What was it?
“When an empty spirit body is dying or anemic, its magical power absorption increases significantly. Cultivators use ‘bleeding’ and ‘severing meridians’ to make empty spirit bodies more efficient.”
His tone was flat, but his gaze was locked on the little demon, waiting for his reaction.
Bai Xuci’s mouth opened slightly as he processed this. Purifying magical power, transferring impurities to the empty spirit body, then transferring that purified power to oneself, enhancing cultivation. To make empty spirit bodies more efficient, they’re made near death…
He gasped, frightened. He moved away from the demon lord.
Fan Yue: “…”
“Venerable Lord, what… what about demons?” Bai Xuci asked, worried.
Fan Yue frowned, not understanding.
“Do demons also ‘use’ empty spirit bodies?”
He moved further away, scared. Fan Yue was amused; he pulled him back with magic.
“Running away?” he asked calmly.
Bai Xuci, unprepared, fell, his chin hitting Fan Yue’s knee.
“No… not running.”
His wrist was held, pulled up. He looked up, intimidated by the golden eyes, wanting to lower his head, but he was stopped by a surge of magical power.
“…” His eyes became resentful. What was so interesting? Who wouldn’t be scared? Bleeding… that must hurt… Better to die.
“Venerable Lord, I’m sorry.” He apologized properly.
Fan Yue raised an eyebrow, surprised by the hypocrisy.
“Sorry?” he repeated slowly, studying the rabbit’s face. “For what?”
Bai Xuci wanted to roll his eyes. When apologizing, they always ask “for what.”
“For misjudging the Venerable Lord. The Venerable Lord is virtuous and unlike those vicious cultivators—”
“This one isn’t virtuous.” Fan Yue interrupted. He pulled the rabbit’s wrist, tilting his head back, confused. What?
“This one is also vicious.” He pinched the small face, applying some force, watching the expression. Bai Xuci felt like his face would be ripped off. Too strong!
“I also want to use you to purify magical power.” He looked at the ruby eyes. “I might cut your wrist, draw blood daily… and for convenience, I might sever your limbs—”
The atmosphere was dark, and Bai Xuci couldn’t—
“Bang!” A pitiful rabbit appeared, its front leg held, ears flat against its head, tearful eyes, terrified.
