Chapter 7: Next Time He Comes, Make Him Stay Forever in…
Yun Wuxiang offered Song Yilou no opportunity for explanation. He decisively cast a Sleeping Spell on him and had Dange transport the man off the island.
Dange carried the slumbering Song Yilou and flew to the two subordinates left on the refuge island.
After Dange set the person down, Song Yilou lay on the ground while his two subordinates stood two meters away. Their feet seemed rooted to the spot; neither was willing to take a single step forward.
The white crane curved its neck in confusion, looking at the pair. What are these two doing? Why aren’t they helping him up?
The two subordinates exchanged a glance. One of them said to the white crane, “The Young Master dislikes being touched by others. We will just wait like this for the Young Master to wake up.”
Strange humans.
The white crane straightened its head, flapped its wings, and flew into the distance, quickly disappearing into the horizon.
At that precise moment, Song Yilou opened his eyes. His gaze was completely clear, showing no sign of having just woken from a magically induced slumber.
He sat up, his eyes staring straight at the spot where the white crane had vanished, committing the location to memory.
The two subordinates instantly lowered their bodies, kneeling on one knee without saying a word.
Song Yilou stood up and brushed off the sand clinging to his clothes. His gaze swept over the two men as he asked, “Where is Liu Huansi?”
Liu Yesan replied, “The Snake Envoy went to help the White Crane Immortal deliver a letter. He has not returned yet.”
Song Yilou: “Help him deliver a letter?”
“To whom is the letter addressed, and what is written in it?”
Liu Yesan’s answer was, “This subordinate did not see the letter.”
Liu Jingwu took out a small slip of paper, holding it up with both hands to present it to Song Yilou. “The Snake Envoy discovered this note inside the White Crane Immortal’s wooden tablet.”
Song Yilou took the note. There were only eight words on it: Capital, North Suburbs Shen Manor, Deliver Letter.
The upright, rigid handwriting brought to mind some sort of old fogey—it didn’t quite match that person.
Liu Yesan continued to add, “A white crane accompanied the Snake Envoy. Also traveling with them was the fisherman who steered the boat that day. This subordinate speculates that the real letter is with that white crane.”
Liu Jingwu described the situation with a straight face: “That flock of white cranes was fat, strong, and they outnumbered us. We didn’t dare to use force to inspect them, and the Gu worms we released were all pecked to death.”
Song Yilou lifted his eyelids, casting a sidelong glance at the two. “Your Gu planting failed?”
an invisible pressure condensed in the air. Liu Yesan and Liu Jingwu lowered their heads even further. “Yes. This subordinate is incompetent.”
They had used Gu, yet couldn’t even deal with a single white crane.
Not only did they fail to obtain any useful information, but they also lost two Gu worms in the process.
Song Yilou’s voice drifted down from above, his emotions indecipherable. “When did you plant them?”
Liu Yesan: “About nine days ago.”
“Nine days ago… Heh.” Song Yilou let out a light chuckle of unclear meaning. Then, the smile widened, contorting into a twisted arc. “So he knew.”
The white cranes were raised by the Guanzhu; they were full of spirituality and understood human intent. If the cranes knew about the Gu planting, the Guanzhu naturally knew as well.
Song Yilou’s fingertips glided over the scorpion tattoo on his collarbone, recalling the Library Pavilion filled with cultivation manuals.
With so many books, were there any regarding Gu worms?
Did the Guanzhu truly not know the reason why he, a living being, could enter the island?
He knew!
He knew from the very beginning!
Saying he would let him leave after investigating was nothing but a casually fabricated excuse.
But why would the Guanzhu do that?
“Extremely interesting.” Song Yilou’s eyes filled with a thick, intense interest.
It had been a long time since he encountered such interesting people and things.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at his two subordinates, whose heads were practically buried in the dirt. “Those are cranes he raised. It is normal that you couldn’t deal with them.”
Song Yilou’s words seemed lenient, giving the impression that he was overlooking this mistake. Yet, upon hearing this, the two subordinates didn’t relax; instead, their nerves became even more taut.
“But I do not wish for my subordinates to be inferior to someone else’s pets.”
“That would make me feel like my subordinates are unpresentable. Do you understand?”
“This subordinate understands!” Liu Yesan and Liu Jingwu buried their heads completely, foreheads touching the ground.
Song Yilou spread his arms and stretched. A series of crisp crackling sounds erupted from his body, and he even shot up in height. The five small moles beneath his eyes shimmered with a fragmented, eerie light in the sun.
The weakened period from integrating the new Gu had ended. It was time to go back and settle accounts.
“Let’s go. Let’s go back and finish off that old undying wretch quickly. I’m in a rush to come back and play with the Guanzhu.”
He looked back, sweeping his gaze over the vast, empty sea. The corners of his eyes curved into a smile, his sharp little canine teeth flashing in and out of view. The tip of his red tongue licked across his teeth, as if he wanted to bite a chunk out of something.
He had originally planned to just find a random spot in the sea to sleep and let that old guy search for a needle in a haystack. He hadn’t expected such a pleasant surprise.
Suddenly, he sensed that one of the insect Gu he had left behind was gone.
Song Yilou: “Discovered so quickly.”
It didn’t matter. Only one had died; he still had many spies left on the island.
Inside the Library Pavilion.
Yun Wuxiang glanced through the cultivation manual Song Yilou had selected. The moment he opened it, he sent the System into the “little black room.”
On the page, two line drawings of human bodies were closely pressed together. Upon closer inspection of the figures, both bodies were male.
Yun Wuxiang closed the book, his fingers exerting slight pressure on the cover. “Unorthodox crooked path.”
He knew it. How many good things could there be among cultivation methods that required absolutely no aptitude?
The more powerful the cultivation method, the harsher the conditions for cultivation. It was precisely because they reached realms untouchable by ordinary people, or even broke through certain limits, that these methods could create extraordinary power.
Only demonic cultivation walked the razor’s edge, filled with blood and eroticism.
Holding the Dual Cultivation manual, Yun Wuxiang pondered another problem.
[Song Yilou looked at the contents of this manual. If he really starts cultivating, will it affect the plot?]
With Song Yilou’s face, if he wanted to seduce someone for Dual Cultivation, even a man might not be able to resist.
No matter how he thought about it, the guy was a menace.
[Should I go out and catch him back?]
[Absolutely not.] 3339 had finally managed to see the person off; it didn’t want a certain someone coming back.
[The World Consciousness has gone to sleep. The barrier is closed; you can’t go out, Host.]
[Rest assured, Host. The probability of Song Yilou affecting the plot is very small.]
[The Mortal Realm is governed by the laws of the Heavenly Dao; cultivators are not allowed to enter. This island is the only place in the Mortal Realm where cultivators are permitted to exist. If Song Yilou really cultivates True Qi, he will be discovered by the World Consciousness before long.]
[The World Consciousness will handle this hidden danger itself. We don’t need to worry about it.]
[Besides, Host, your illness makes you unsuited for the outside world.]
He couldn’t stand the sight of blood or flesh, and couldn’t stand the smell of meat. If his Host went out, wouldn’t he be fumed into vomiting several times a day?
Since there was no one on the island before, Yun Wuxiang hadn’t encountered anything bloody. 3339 had originally thought Yun Wuxiang’s condition had mostly improved, but it turned out the improvement was only superficial.
[Mhm, okay.] Yun Wuxiang agreed as soon as he was persuaded, looking like a well-behaved child obediently taking medicine, carrying a hint of frailty from illness.
The sight caused another surge of maternal love in 3339: [Host, if you’re bored, how about I play a movie for you?]
[Wait a bit. Fifteen’s egg is about to hatch; I’ll go take a look first.]
Yun Wuxiang closed the book and placed it back in its original spot on the shelf.
His gaze shifted, landing on a small black dot amidst the wood grain of the bookshelf.
His fingertip flicked out an invisible attack. The black dot sensed danger and began to move, attempting to flee, but was instantly twisted into flying ash by the rapidly approaching energy of the spell.
[Host, why did you suddenly cast a spell?] 3339 scanned the area in confusion but found nothing.
[I just saw the corpse of a bug. I didn’t want to sweep it away by hand.]
As Yun Wuxiang spoke, he naturally changed the subject. [How is the plot now?]
At the mention of the plot, 3339 immediately forgot the small interlude just now. [Everything is progressing smoothly. The Protagonist Gong and Shou have already met. Shen Lanqing was taken back to the manor by Duan Wenyin. The current plot completion is at 3%.]
[The deviation has been corrected. We just need to wait ten years to treat the Protagonist Shou when he is heavily injured and on the brink of death.]
Yun Wuxiang: [Good.]
After visiting Dange and Fifteen’s nest to see the egg that was about to hatch, Yun Wuxiang stood on a high vantage point, gazing at the edge of the island.
He still couldn’t get out. But it didn’t matter; the thing he wanted to send had already been delivered.
As for Song Yilou, if he really was the person he was thinking of… the next time he comes, he would make him stay on the island forever.
This place was indeed overly empty and quiet.
Having a noisy voice around was actually somewhat interesting. However, he would have to make that guy quit eating meat.
Returning to the Daoist temple, Yun Wuxiang greeted the System: [Sanjiu, I want to have a good sleep. Don’t wake me unless it’s something important.]
[Okay, Host. Rest well.]
Yun Wuxiang closed his eyes in the temple.
Far away in a room in the Capital, talisman after talisman flew out from Shen Lanqing’s body, gathering together to form a ball of lustrous, bright light.
The light flashed and vanished, the talismans disappearing with it. In their place was a palm-sized little person, slowly floating down from mid-air onto the table.
Shen Lanqing’s eyes lit up when he saw the little person. He excitedly rushed to the table and called out, “Shifu!”
“Mhm.” Yun Wuxiang adjusted to his current size and looked at Shen Lanqing, who had magnified into a giant in his field of vision.
Tall, and he couldn’t see the face clearly.
Too close. Do you want your Master to look up your nostrils?
Yun Wuxiang: “Step back a bit.”
Shen Lanqing obediently took a step back, widening the distance. He squatted down, looking at the miniature version of Yun Wuxiang on the table, and said, “Shifu, is this okay?”
Yun Wuxiang: “Mhm.” At least I’m not staring right at your nostrils anymore.
With his perspective normalized, Yun Wuxiang began to ask about business. “Didn’t I tell you not to go out?”
At the mention of this, Shen Lanqing’s face instantly fell. He said with some depression, “Shifu, I didn’t go out. I was just staying at home when a group of assassins chased two people into my courtyard.”
“Originally, I didn’t want to get involved, but one of them was Prince Li. Having a Prince die in my home would cause trouble. I even got slashed by an assassin in order to save him.”
“Who knew that Prince Li would bite the hand that fed him! He said he wanted to invite me to his manor as a guest to thank me for saving his life, but in the end, he locked me up here and won’t let me leave.”
Shen Lanqing got angrier as he spoke and slapped the table with a pa. The tabletop beneath Yun Wuxiang’s feet shook, and his body vibrated along with it.
After meeting the gaze of the expressionless little person, Shen Lanqing retracted his hand as if electrocuted and pursed his lips. “Shifu, I was wrong.”
Yun Wuxiang didn’t pursue the table-slapping incident. Skipping over that topic, he said, “Prince Li is afflicted with a potent poison. He suffers from headaches and bloodlust. He requires the Five-Color Cloud Mushroom to alleviate the toxicity.”
“What does that have to do with me? …Wait, the Five-Color Cloud Mushroom, that thing sounds a bit familiar.”
Shen Lanqing’s expression went from confusion to contemplation, then to horror, and finally to silence.
Yun Wuxiang saw his expression and figured he had remembered.
Shen Lanqing asked, harboring a sliver of hope, “That Five-Color Cloud Mushroom… it wouldn’t happen to be that thing I gnawed on as a teething stick for a long time when I was little, right?”
Yun Wuxiang shattered his hope with a single word: “Yes.”
Shen Lanqing forced a smile. “Surely there isn’t just one of these things?”
Yun Wuxiang looked at him silently. Whether there was only one, he wasn’t sure, but in the original novel, from start to finish, a second Five-Color Cloud Mushroom never appeared.
Shen Lanqing wiped his face. “Prince Li is pretty unlucky too.”
The only antidote had been gnawed on by him as a teething stick eight hundred years ago.
Yun Wuxiang looked at the lively and vigorous young man before him and sighed internally. The one who is truly unlucky is actually you.
“The Cloud Mushroom has already become one with you. Your blood possesses part of its medicinal efficacy. Venomous insects will avoid you, and you are impervious to heat and cold.”
Shen Lanqing suddenly understood. “No wonder I’ve rarely been sick growing up.”
Then he realized why he had been locked up by Prince Li. “That Prince Li doesn’t intend to drink my blood to detoxify himself, does he?”
In the early stages, he wants your blood. In the later stages, he will want your person, and finally, he will even want your feelings.
Greed is like a snake trying to swallow an elephant.
Yun Wuxiang’s expression was unreadable, a chill appearing in the depths of his eyes.
A person who had rarely been sick since childhood would, upon meeting his “official partner,” constantly suffer injuries. Major wounds followed by minor ones, and he would even feign death twice. After being tormented like this for ten years, he would finally go to the island to find Yun Wuxiang, his body covered in cuts and bruises.
No one knew how angry Yun Wuxiang was after listening to the System recount the entire plot.
And no one knew how long he had struggled and hesitated between turning a blind eye to wait for the mission completion so he could go home, and saving his disciple.
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