Chapter 33: Oh, So They Are Scheming Against Him.
Gu slaves were a consumable item.
Powerful Gu masters in the Poison Mist Swamp all bore a tattoo on their bodies, which served as the dwelling place for their bonded Life Gu.
But not all Gu masters had the ability to store Gu insects inside their bodies. For most low-level Gu masters, the tattoos on their bodies were just a unique form of decorative art.
Every so often, the Gu masters of the Poison Mist Swamp would go to the Gu Kiln to attempt to subdue Gu insects. If successful, they gained a Gu insect companion; if they failed, they would be directly poisoned to death by the insects, their bodies thrown into the Kiln by others to serve as fodder.
Or, they might go elsewhere to find Gu insects themselves. Similarly, if they failed to subdue them and died from the backlash, no one would collect their corpses.
Yun Wuxiangâs current identity was the Holy Son of the Poison Mist Swamp. The Holy Sonâs treatment was naturally different. He didnât need to go to the Gu Kiln personally or search everywhere for poisonous creatures. Instead, people would select Gu insects with excellent appearance and toxicity and place them before him for his choosing.
Naturally, he didn’t have to feed these toxic Gu himself either. The ones responsible for that were the Gu slaves.
Unclaimed toxic Gu possessed immense ferocity and a cruel nature. They frequently attacked during feeding times, taking a bite out of the feeder. And then… there was no ‘then.’ The sacrificed corpse would be carried away, and a new Gu slave would be invited to continue risking their life to feed them.
Hiss… The low chirping of insects and snakes sounded eerily.
Yun Wuxiang stood on the bamboo tower, dressed in red clothes and silver ornaments, his skin as white as snow.
The Poison Mist Swamp was shrouded in poisonous miasma year-round. The light was dim, and the people here rarely saw the sun, leaving everyone with a ghastly pale complexion.
But Yun Wuxiang was different. His whiteness was like a piece of peerless jade of superior quality, clean and flawless. While others’ pale faces looked like corpses or ghosts here, he seemed to glow. Just standing there, he was the focal point of vision.
He held a long flute carved from red jade in his hand. Sensing someone looking at him, he swept his peripheral vision downward casually. His gaze met that of the person looking up for a brief instant before withdrawing, as if he had merely glimpsed an insignificant speck of dust not worth a second look.
Song Yilou, carrying food toward the Gu vat, withdrew his gaze. His eyes darkened. His small, young body carried the heavy food bucket, struggling forward step by step.
When Song Yilou was two or three meters away from the toxic Gu, his feet stumbled in a silky smooth trip, and he fell to the ground. The bucket in his hand flew out, its contents smashing into the Gu vat.
The toxic Gu were instantly agitated, emitting irritable wing-beats and hisses. The Gu in the vat suddenly erupted, frantically attacking the surrounding Gu masters and laborers.
While everyone was either dodging or fighting back against the toxic Gu attacks, Yun Wuxiang stood still, observing Song Yilou’s movements.
In the chaos, a venomous snake slithered up the bamboo viewing platform where Yun Wuxiang stood. Quietly approaching, it arched its body to store power, then shot up like a cold arrow, aiming for that fragile throat.
The red flute raised, seemingly just a casual wave, and struck precisely on the snake’s “seven-inch” weak point. The venomous snake smashed onto the bamboo spikes at the edge of the tower, impaled.
Having dealt with the attacking snake, Yun Wuxiang continued to look at Song Yilou. The boyâs small back was curled up in a corner. Just looking at that trembling back, he truly seemed weak, pitiful, and helpless.
What is this guy doing now? A trace of suspicion flashed through Yun Wuxiang’s eyes. Placing one hand on the railing, he moved with a lightness akin to a red butterfly flying low, flipping off the bamboo tower to land silently beside Song Yilou.
“What are you doing?”
The boy’s back stiffened. His body shook violently, and he covered his mouth, coughing.
Taking advantage of his height, Yun Wuxiang grabbed the back of the boy’s collar and spun him around. A pair of tear-filled, wide eyes looked up at him.
Yun Wuxiang paused. A buzzing sound of wings came from beside his ear. He spun the red flute in his hand, pinning the lunging poisonous insect to the wall. He pulled the flute out and shook off the bug, never once turning his head to look.
He bent down, leaning close to the young child under his hand. Looking at those long eyelashes hanging with large and small droplets of tears, he chuckled with novelty, “Crying, are we?”
What a pity the System wasn’t here. It couldn’t record this image of Song Yilou crying.
Yun Wuxiang’s gaze slid down to the two hands clamping tightly over the mouth. He pried at the fingers, then tried to pry open the mouth. “Why is your mouth shut so tight? Afraid a poisonous bug will crawl in and eat your tongue?”
Little Song Yilou shook his head slightly. He blinked, and the tears held in his eyes fell with a plip-plop, smashing toward the back of Yun Wuxiang’s hand.
Yun Wuxiang simply let go to dodge the tear. Then, he poked the red flute against Song Yilou’s faceâwhich wasn’t round, but still held a hint of baby fatâand commanded, “Open your mouth.”
The more Song Yilou dared not open his mouth, the more certain Yun Wuxiang was that the little fellow had something in there.
At that moment, several more toxic Gu launched an attack on the pair. Yun Wuxiang swatted the damn bugs to death like flies. Eventually getting annoyed, he simply used his baleful aura to mimic a red butterfly, acting as his own Gu insect to use his powers openly.
In that brief moment, Song Yilou lowered his head. Yun Wuxiang seemed to hear a swallowing sound. When he fished Little Song Yilou’s head back up, the little brat looked at him with a face full of cowardice and grievance. That look made Yun Wuxiang’s eyelid twitch wildly.
Hiss. A little bit cute. But this was Song Yilou. Small Song Yilou. A Song Yilou who hadn’t turned into a Gu yet. A Song Yilou who was still human.
Still human?
Yun Wuxiang carefully scrutinized the little thing in his hand again. “Open.”
Little Song Yilou obediently opened his mouth this time, revealing an interior map missing one front tooth and two bottom teeth.
Toothless Song Yilou.
Yun Wuxiang habitually maintained the calm image of a high expert, suppressing the wild laughter in his heart. But then he thought, why hold back in an illusion?
Only he and Song Yilou knew what happened here. After watching the illusion, he would destroy this fragment along with the Heart Demon. That meant no second person besides himself would ever know what happened here.
“Hahaha! Gap-toothed brat.” Yun Wuxiang laughed wantonly at the little thing in front of him, laughing even happier when he saw the other’s resentful little glare.
“Lord Holy Son, help!” The surrounding Gu masters and laborers cried out for help.
Every poisonous insect prepared for the Holy Son as a potential Life Gu was highly toxic. These rioting bugs were nothing to Yun Wuxiang, but to everyone else around, they were lethal existences.
Yun Wuxiang didn’t plan to dismantle the illusion just yet. Pointing with the jade flute in his hand, he said lazily and perfunctorily, “Kill.”
The red butterfly formed from baleful aura streaked past like lightning, leaving a slender afterimage in the air.
Thud.
A poisonous toad that had jumped into mid-air fell to the ground. following that thud, more poisonous insects crashed down, creating a chaotic rattle of crisp sounds.
“Holy Son, do you already have a Life Gu?” The Spider Envoy had been there the whole time. After Yun Wuxiang dealt with the insects, she stepped out.
She was the Holy Son’s guardian, and also the observer of his aptitude and character. There was no tradition of caring for juniors in the Poison Mist Swamp. The poisonous creatures here were all prepared for the Holy Son. If he couldn’t deal with these bugs, he was unworthy of his position and deserved to die.
The butterfly disguised by baleful aura flew to Yun Wuxiang’s shoulder and landed. He nodded slightly. “Correct.”
He had read descriptions of the Poison Mist Swamp in the original novel. In summary: cold-blooded and cruel, the strong eat the weak, winners are kings, and losers don’t even leave behind crumbs.
Now, in this illusion, he was experiencing this atmosphere firsthand.
“I haven’t seen this Gu before. Did the Holy Son find such a fine Gu from somewhere else?” the Spider Envoy asked, looking at the baleful butterfly.
Yun Wuxiang couldn’t be bothered to waste breath on a person in an illusion, so he casually spouted nonsense: “It flew here on its own.”
He glanced at Song Yilou, who was squatting on the ground. Should he take the person away to play for a while now, or stand by and watch the illusion develop?
He hesitated for a second. The little thing on the ground looked up at him. Those black and white eyes stared at him like a stray cat waiting to be picked up.
Yun Wuxiang raised an eyebrow. Why does this little thing look like he wants to come with me?
Since he wanted to follow…
“I have my Gu. Investigate the cause of the riot. As for this little Gu slave…” Yun Wuxiang poked Song Yilou’s forehead with the flute, knocking him over with a splat. A look of amusement flashed through his eyes.
He continued, “Send him back to the Toad Envoy.”
As soon as the words fell, he saw a poorly hidden look of shock on Little Song Yilou’s face, as well as a confusion that the situation had exceeded his expectations.
“I’m done playing.”
Yun Wuxiang looked at the child’s tightly closed mouth and hooked his lips in a smile. “Send me one whose teeth have grown in.”
After he spoke, two points of genuine indignation appeared in Song Yilou’s eyes before quickly vanishing. His gaze darted rapidly across Yun Wuxiang’s mouth, then he lowered his head, covering his mouth as if embarrassed.
Song Yilou was sent away. Song Yilou was sent back.
Sent back personally by his mother.
“This little beast looks exactly like his ungrateful, heartless father, carved from the same mold. I don’t want to see this face every day. Since the Holy Son accepted him as a Gu slave, just keep him.”
The Toad Envoy had a veil wrapped around her head, covering most of her face, revealing only eyes that looked seventy to eighty percent like Song Yilou’s, and a small part of crimson red lips.
Yun Wuxiang observed this primary creator of Song Yilou. Judging from the visible features, she was a pure and graceful beauty, like an edelweiss flower. Her temperament was soothing, even resembling a Guan Yin in a paintingâminus the awe-inspiring divinity, plus a touch of tranquility and gentleness.
But by virtue of her status as one of the Five Venom Envoys, this woman had not a dime’s worth of relation to gentleness or kindness. It could only be said that some people’s appearances were truly deceptive. Song Yilou had perfectly inherited this from his mother.
She held Song Yilou as if he weren’t her own flesh and blood, tossing him casually at Yun Wuxiang’s feet.
Yun Wuxiang sat in his chair, feeling a soft object bump into his leg.
The little dumpling had a few more scratches on his arms from unknown sources. His face was also battered, bruised purple and blue. Miraculously, it didn’t affect his looks, only making him seem even more pitiful.
What a pathetic-looking glutinous rice ball, practically begging for pity. Yun Wuxiang admitted he was bewildered by this appearance for a split second. He reached out and wiped a smudge of dirt from his face.
Then he looked up at Song Yilou’s mother. “If the Toad Envoy finds him an eyesore, why not just kill him directly? Why throw him to me?”
If the Toad Envoy truly hated Song Yilou and wished him dead, she could just strangle him. Or simply ignore him and let him perish on his own.
The current situation… why did it feel like she was deliberately setting up a ‘pity play’ to make him keep the boy?
Yun Wuxiang faintly sensed the scent of fraud.
So what were this mother and son plotting?
Yun Wuxiang felt both their gazes land on him, awaiting his answer.
Oh. So they are scheming against him.
The Holy Son of the Poison Mist Swamp really was an unlucky guy.
Yun Wuxiang propped his chin on one hand, while the other hand rubbed the soft hair on Song Yilou’s head. He had wanted to do that for a while; the texture was indeed quite nice.
“If I accidentally kill him, will the Toad Envoy come to trouble me?”
Toad Envoy: “Why would I fight the Holy Son for such a little beast? Is he worthy?”
Yun Wuxiang nodded. “That’s good then.”
Real or fake? How much of this can be believed?
Was Song Yilou’s mouth full of lies also inherited from his mother?
Seeing him keep the person, the Toad Envoy turned and left.
Yun Wuxiang looked down. Song Yilou was looking up at him.
“What are you looking at?”
A single word popped out of Song Yilou’s drafty mouth: “You.”
“So you can talk.” This was the first time Yun Wuxiang had heard him speak since meeting Song Yilou in the illusion. That extremely drafty tone… no wonder he didn’t like talking.
Reaching out to pinch the kid’s cheek, Yun Wuxiang said, “Since you can talk, tell me. Covering your mouth earlierâwhat were you eating?”
The little thing’s expression changed instantly.
Yun Wuxiang pulled at his cheek, his tone deepening slightly. “Ruining my Gu Selection Day and stealing my Gu to eat. How should I deal with you?”
Song Yilou’s mouth turned down, and his eyes instantly filled with water. “I’m hungry. I’m so hungry.”
“You are the Toad Envoy’s son. How could you be hungry enough to eat…” Yun Wuxiang paused, his gaze landing on Song Yilou’s stomach. “Eating Gu is your main meal?”
Song Yilou tilted his head looking at him, truly possessing the innocent ignorance befitting his age. “What is a main meal?”
Yun Wuxiang was silent for two seconds, his gaze sweeping over Song Yilou’s mouth.
Hungry and cold in childhood… so this is what ‘hungry’ meant.
So this mother and son were partnered up to steal Gu to eat.
Making Song Yilou a Gu slave to feed the Gu… how was that different from throwing a meat bun at a dog? It would never come back.
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