PID Chapter 46.1

Working overtime!

Kofi thanks to Choco~

(4/5)

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The food in the flying boat’s dining area was mediocre at best. However, they sold plenty of small items—including food for spiritual pets. Xiao Mo bought a small bag of pet food for Qiuqiu, who happily pecked away at it.

 

As they left the dining area, they didn’t see any sign of the demonic cultivator nearby. Scanning their surroundings briefly, they noticed a young man leaning over the edge of the flying boat—vomiting profusely.

 

“Ugh—!”

 

He was throwing up so hard that tears streamed down his face.

 

Oh dear… seasick? Xiao Mo thought curiously.

 

Suddenly intrigued by what happened to items thrown off from such heights—whether they became falling debris that inconvenienced people below or were caught by some protective shield around the flying boat—he pretended to glance downward casually.

 

Sure enough, as soon as the mess touched the protective shield surrounding the flying boat, cleansing runes lit up and instantly dissolved it into nothingness.

 

Xiao Mo raised an eyebrow in approval. Despite its overall simplicity, this flying boat had surprisingly decent basic functions—even accounting for things like this.

 

The young man vomiting so miserably was accompanied by someone nearby who looked both concerned and helpless. As the young man lifted his head, the companion quickly handed him water and a pill, speaking softly: “Young Master, I told you we should have taken our family’s flying boat instead. You insisted on coming here to suffer.”

 

The young master rinsed his mouth and swallowed the pill, regaining some composure. Despite being adorned with jewels and treasures, his spiritless expression dimmed all his radiance. “I didn’t expect the flight to be this unstable.”

 

Unstable? Xiao Mo glanced down at the deck. To him, it felt perfectly steady.

 

The young master unfolded a fan, perhaps trying to maintain some semblance of elegance, and whispered to the person beside him—likely a servant: “Next time, I’ll suggest improvements to this type of flying boat. After all, it’s one of ours—why shouldn’t we ride it?”

 

One of theirs?

 

Xiao Mo scrutinized the young master’s attire again and immediately had his system scan his identity.

 

The system responded: “Name: Wang Ludian. Age: 19. Middle Realm’s Jinxiu Pavilion Wang family heir.”

 

Ah, that explains it. From his hairpiece to his belt to his boots, everything radiated spiritual energy—all high-grade magical artifacts. He exuded wealth from every detail.

 

The person accompanying him—whether a servant or a guard—was at Nascent Soul mid-stage and similarly adorned with valuable items. Judging by the abundance of artifacts on him, even a Nascent Soul peak cultivator might struggle against him if he unleashed them all.

 

The Wang family obviously emphasized cultivation for their disciples but had another solution for those who fell short—money compensates for lack of cultivation. Yes, being wealthy was indeed that indulgent.

 

In the original story, this young master didn’t play any significant role. However, one of his cousins in the Upper Realm was a pivotal character.

 

This cousin later had multiple interactions with Chu Jinglan—engaging in business deals, selling information and magical artifacts, and even seeking Chu Jinglan’s help. In the original story, this Wang cousin once sat before Chu Jinglan drinking wine and crying loudly about how he had wealth and ability, gifted treasures and resources, yet still couldn’t win Su Baimo’s heart.

 

After crying his heart out, he sighed and said to Chu Jinglan: “If I were like you—not expecting anything from him—would I be less miserable? But then again… you’re worse off than me—you’ve never even held his hand. It all went to those other worthless men.”

 

Whether or not Wang Gongzi realized it at the time, calling them “worthless men” included himself in that insult.

 

Wang Gongzi was sharp and clever—he often dressed flamboyantly like a peacock to flaunt his wealth before Su Baimo’s other suitors but behaved more restrained in front of Chu Jinglan. He understood that while he wasn’t truly Chu Jinglan’s friend, he was perhaps the closest thing Chu Jinglan had to one.

 

Once he had drunkenly murmured to Chu Jinglan: “You’re such an aloof person—how did you end up dragged into this messy mortal world?”

 

Xiao Mo deeply agreed with that sentiment.

 

He glanced at Young Master Wang a couple more times. Naturally, Chu Jinglan noticed this and asked: “Is there something wrong with him?”

 

“No,” Xiao Mo replied casually as he withdrew his gaze. “He just looks very rich.”

 

Chu Jinglan paused briefly.

 

Indeed—he was very rich. The Cloud Purple Robe Wang Ludian wore wasn’t just visibly high-grade; its subtle flowing cloud patterns shimmered beautifully with light. The intricate embroidery made it look as though it could float gracefully—a design Xiao Mo would undoubtedly appreciate.

 

An Inner Demon like Xiao Mo couldn’t resist sniffing out delicious food or admiring beautiful clothes. Top-tier spiritual food and exquisite magical garments both came at a price.

 

Compared to when they first arrived in the Middle Realm, Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan now carried considerable wealth—but in the grand scheme of things within the Middle Realm or Upper Realm, it still wasn’t much.

 

The young man vomiting so miserably was accompanied by someone nearby who looked both concerned and helpless. As the young man lifted his head, the companion quickly handed him water and a pill, speaking softly: “Young Master, I told you we should have taken our family’s flying boat instead. You insisted on coming here to suffer.”

 

The young master rinsed his mouth and swallowed the pill, regaining some composure. Despite being adorned with jewels and treasures, his spiritless expression dimmed all his radiance. “I didn’t expect the flight to be this unstable.”

 

Unstable? Xiao Mo glanced down at the deck. To him, it felt perfectly steady.

 

The young master unfolded a fan, perhaps trying to maintain some semblance of elegance, and whispered to the person beside him—likely a servant: “Next time, I’ll suggest improvements to this type of flying boat. After all, it’s one of ours—why shouldn’t we ride it?”

 

One of theirs?

 

Xiao Mo scrutinized the young master’s attire again and immediately had his system scan his identity.

 

The system responded: “Name: Wang Ludian. Age: 19. Middle Realm’s Jinxiu Pavilion Wang family heir.”

 

Ah, that explains it. From his hairpiece to his belt to his boots, everything radiated spiritual energy—all high-grade magical artifacts. He exuded wealth from every detail.

 

The person accompanying him—whether a servant or a guard—was at Nascent Soul mid-stage and similarly adorned with valuable items. Judging by the abundance of artifacts on him, even a Nascent Soul peak cultivator might struggle against him if he unleashed them all.

 

The Wang family obviously emphasized cultivation for their disciples but had another solution for those who fell short—money compensates for lack of cultivation. Yes, being wealthy was indeed that indulgent.

 

In the original story, this young master didn’t play any significant role. However, one of his cousins in the Upper Realm was a pivotal character.

 

This cousin later had multiple interactions with Chu Jinglan—engaging in business deals, selling information and magical artifacts, and even seeking Chu Jinglan’s help. In the original story, this Wang cousin once sat before Chu Jinglan drinking wine and crying loudly about how he had wealth and ability, gifted treasures and resources, yet still couldn’t win Su Baimo’s heart.

 

After crying his heart out, he sighed and said to Chu Jinglan: “If I were like you—not expecting anything from her—would I be less miserable? But then again… you’re worse off than me—you’ve never even held her hand. It all went to those other worthless men.”

 

Whether or not Wang Gongzi realized it at the time, calling them “worthless men” included himself in that insult.

 

Wang Gongzi was sharp and clever—he often dressed flamboyantly like a peacock to flaunt his wealth before Su Baimo’s other suitors but behaved more restrained in front of Chu Jinglan. He understood that while he wasn’t truly Chu Jinglan’s friend, he was perhaps the closest thing Chu Jinglan had to one.

 

Once he had drunkenly murmured to Chu Jinglan: “You’re such an aloof person—how did you end up dragged into this messy mortal world?”

 

Xiao Mo deeply agreed with that sentiment.

 

He glanced at Young Master Wang a couple more times. Naturally, Chu Jinglan noticed this and asked: “Is there something wrong with him?”

 

“No,” Xiao Mo replied casually as he withdrew his gaze. “He just looks very rich.”

 

Chu Jinglan paused briefly.

 

Indeed—he was very rich. The Cloud Purple Robe Wang Ludian wore wasn’t just visibly high-grade; its subtle flowing cloud patterns shimmered beautifully with light. The intricate embroidery made it look as though it could float gracefully—a design Xiao Mo would undoubtedly appreciate.

 

An Inner Demon like Xiao Mo couldn’t resist sniffing out delicious food or admiring beautiful clothes. Top-tier spiritual food and exquisite magical garments both came at a price.

 

Compared to when they first arrived in the Middle Realm, Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan now carried considerable wealth—but in the grand scheme of things within the Middle Realm or Upper Realm, it still wasn’t much.

 

The principle of “sitting idle and exhausting resources” was something everyone understood. Chu Jinglan thought that perhaps this time in the secret realm, they should gather as many items as possible—even if they couldn’t use them themselves, they could always sell them for money.

 

Once his cultivation was restored, he would also need to find ways to earn money. As a collaborator, he wanted to provide better conditions for his partner, ensuring that Xiao Mo wouldn’t have to envy others.

 

Instead of staying on the deck, the two returned to their cabin. The neighboring room remained silent. Xiao Mo extended both his spiritual sense and Inner Demon perception to confirm that the adjacent room was currently empty—the demonic cultivator hadn’t returned yet.

 

Xiao Mo took out the nest from the spirit pet pouch and placed it on the cabinet beside the bed. Qiuqiu hopped into the nest, fluffed its feathers, and settled down to sleep.

 

The cabin had only one bed, a small table, and a single chair. Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan were temporarily separated, not sharing a body at the moment. Chu Jinglan sat in the chair reading his sword manual, while Xiao Mo lay at the head of the bed with his system panel open, studying the Demonic Sound Manual cultivation technique.

 

Meanwhile, in the outside world, their neighboring demonic cultivator had spent half a day unsuccessfully searching for an opportunity to strike.

 

Many passengers on this flying boat were heading to the Phantom Moon Secret Realm. Some strangers had already started gathering to exchange information or eavesdrop on conversations near groups on the deck. With Jinxiu Pavilion cultivators present as well, there was simply no chance for him to act.

 

The more he failed to act, the more anxious he became. His suppressed hunger grew increasingly unbearable—his mouth watered uncontrollably, while his stomach and throat burned with desperation. If he didn’t consume enough blood and flesh soon, he would undoubtedly lose his sanity in excruciating pain.

 

Though truth be told, he was already halfway insane.

 

The demonic cultivator paced frantically in circles, swallowing saliva repeatedly. He threw on a hooded cloak to hide his twisted expression from anyone who might notice. With his face concealed in shadow beneath the hood, he moved like a writhing worm—distorted and unnatural.

 

It didn’t take long for him to realize that he couldn’t hold back any longer. If he wanted to maintain even a shred of sanity, he needed to feed immediately… His gaze returned to the cabins.

 

The blood and flesh aura from that person next door smelled incredibly enticing—it would surely taste delicious. When he saw him earlier in the dining hall, he had already thought about how tender his skin looked—undoubtedly fresh and succulent. And those long fingers… dipped in blood and nibbled bit by bit—they must be crispy and sweet.

 

The more he imagined it, the harder it became to control his hunger. His remaining rationality seemed to be thinking but was actually constantly tempting and convincing itself:

 

“Look at him—he’s riding this flying boat too. He’s alone—he can’t possibly be some powerful cultivator. You can handle him! So hungry… I can’t hold on anymore… Choose him! Eat him—it’ll be fine! Yes—go now! Just eat him!”

 

His madness crushed what little reason he had left. First returning to his own room, he opened the window—and when he saw that the window of the neighboring room was also open, joy surged through him like a tidal wave.

 

Without hesitation, he darted inside at lightning speed.

 

His bloodshot eyes were filled with madness, and the gurgling, swallowing sounds coming from his throat were terrifying. The room was thick with the scent of blood and flesh as he leapt through the window, lunging at the figure inside. His plan was simple: snap the person’s neck before they could react, then savor the kill at his leisure.

 

He could almost taste the delicious flavor of his prey, and a twisted grin of triumph spread across his face.

 

But in the next instant, his entire body was yanked backward with immense force, slamming him into the now-closed window.

 

The windowpane rattled but didn’t shatter.

 

His claws failed to grasp anyone’s neck. Instead, the golden-masked figure in the room stood calmly, watching him. On his shoulder sat a small gray bird, chirping angrily at the intruder—likely hurling insults in its own language.

 

Driven by survival instincts, the demonic cultivator immediately acted. Using his hand as a blade, he severed the bindings on his body. Only then did he see what had restrained him—it wasn’t a rope or a magical artifact but black mist.

 

Thick demonic energy had condensed into black mist.

 

At some point, the entire room had been sealed with restrictions. The mist filled every corner—from the ceiling to the walls to the floor—forming a shadowy cage. Surrounded by this overwhelming demonic energy, the demonic cultivator regained a shred of clarity. His eyes widened in shock as he exclaimed: “You’re also a demonic cultivator!? No… no, wait—this demonic energy is so pure… you’re from the Demon Clan!”

 

Among demon clans, blood demons were particularly effective against his cultivation technique. The demonic cultivator felt something invading his sea of consciousness and struggled desperately to resist. But his chaotic mind offered little defense. Realizing he had kicked an iron plate (metaphorically bitten off more than he could chew), he panicked further. Believing he had encountered a blood demon capable of manipulating his corrupted blood, he quickly begged for mercy: “My lord! I was blind and failed to recognize greatness! Please spare me!”

 

In contrast to the icy gaze Xiao Mo had given him earlier in the dining area, this time there was something eerily different about it. The golden-masked man’s eyes were still cold but carried an unsettling allure—like vibrant flowers blooming on bare bones. The chill wrapped around him like death itself, yet it was strangely soft and seductive.

 

The golden-masked man raised a finger to his lips and said softly: “Shh… don’t make noise. Let me search.”

 

Search for what? The demonic cultivator didn’t know—but he understood one thing clearly: this man had no intention of letting him go.

 

His heart pounded wildly as danger screamed at him from every nerve. Summoning all his strength, he let out a roar and violently dispersed the black mist surrounding him. His palm glowed with sticky red light as he struck toward Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan!

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter