PID Chapter 98

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A cultivator at Return to Void stage could shatter space itself and traverse thousands of miles in an instant. Yet Chu Jinglan didn’t teleport directly to Jinxiu Pavilion in Baichuan City with Xiao Mo. Instead, he summoned a flying boat and boarded it while still holding Xiao Mo’s hand.

 

Clearly, he intended to proceed at a leisurely pace.

 

The flying boat was the same one left behind by Moon Lord—a vessel crafted from top-tier materials. However, it wasn’t particularly large in size and wouldn’t stand out among a group of boats traveling together.

 

Once aboard, Xiao Mo instinctively tried to let go of Chu Jinglan’s hand and sit across from him. But as he loosened his grip, Chu Jinglan didn’t let go.

 

Caught off guard by this, Xiao Mo had no choice but to sit beside him instead.

 

A sword puppet emerged from within the boat and silently prepared tea for the two of them.

 

The puppet wore an iron mask and moved without making a sound. Though it was a high-level puppet whose cultivation pressure even surpassed Xiao Mo’s own, its aura was heavy and suffocating—a stark contrast to its human-like movements.

 

With Chu Jinglan holding his hand and sitting beside him, Xiao Mo couldn’t look directly at him. Instead, he rubbed the tea cup in his palm absentmindedly. Now that they were away from the bustling streets—with just the two of them aboard—Xiao Mo finally managed to say something serious as an opening line: “Did you read the letter I left?”

 

“Mm.” Chu Jinglan replied curtly as he began taking spiritual food out of his storage device.

 

Even though the flying boat would cover fifty miles in no time at all given its speed, Chu Jinglan still insisted on arranging the spiritual food.

 

Xiao Mo hesitated briefly before continuing: “Back then—or rather, I should say years ago—I can explain everything.”

 

Chu Jinglan seemed completely unbothered, casually using his spiritual sense to sift through his storage device, deciding which spiritual foods to lay out. “Go on,” he said.

 

His calm and easygoing tone put Xiao Mo at ease. Xiao Mo had worried that, in Chu Jinglan’s eyes, the three hundred years that separated them might create a sense of unfamiliarity. He feared saying the wrong thing and making their reunion feel distant. But ever since they met again, Chu Jinglan had acted as if they had only parted yesterday and were seeing each other again today.

 

“I’m actually an outsider,” Xiao Mo began, explaining slowly. “I entered this world with a purpose. Becoming a inner demon was just a coincidence—a temporary identity. At first, I had forgotten some things, but I gradually remembered my mission. In the past, I couldn’t tell you because of the laws binding me, but now I can.” Xiao Mo didn’t know that Chu Jinglan had already regained his memories, so he used simple and straightforward words to explain the situation. “After regaining my human form from being a inner demon, I went to another place. I was only there for a short while—perhaps less than half a day—and rushed back as quickly as I could. I didn’t expect three hundred years to have passed in this world.”

 

Chu Jinglan’s hand froze as he opened the food box.

 

Less than half a day?

 

Xiao Mo finally finished explaining: “The task I needed to complete has been unexpectedly resolved without me needing to act. From now on, I’m truly a part of this world—I won’t leave again.”

 

When Xiao Mo finished speaking, he noticed that Chu Jinglan hadn’t reacted at all—no response, no acknowledgment. Puzzled, Xiao Mo turned his head to look at him. “Chu Jinglan?”

 

“…I see. You’re not leaving anymore—that’s good,” Chu Jinglan said in an even tone, steadying his voice. One hand was already clenched so tightly inside his sleeve that his nails dug into his palm, while the other slowly released Xiao Mo’s hand. “I’ll go to another room to get something.”

 

Xiao Mo didn’t suspect anything and nodded. “Alright.”

 

Chu Jinglan walked quickly toward the door but stopped just before stepping out. He wanted to turn back but froze halfway, his neck stiff and unwilling to move further. Still, he forced himself to finish speaking: “Wait here for me.”

 

Xiao Mo replied softly: “Okay.”

 

Xiao Mo had no intention of going up to the deck to enjoy the scenery for now and naturally stayed seated, waiting for Chu Jinglan.

 

Qiuqiu, perched on a flower basket by the window as decoration since boarding the ship, had overheard their conversation. Hearing Xiao Mo’s familiar voice and seeing how Chu Jinglan treated him made Qiuqiu hesitate before asking nervously: “You… you’re…”

 

Xiao Mo smiled gently at it. “Qiuqiu, it’s me.”

 

In the next room, Chu Jinglan heard Qiuqiu’s sudden exclamation but couldn’t pay it any attention right now. As soon as he entered the room, he immediately set up a soundproof barrier before slamming his hand onto the table with a loud “bang.”

 

His ten fingers curled tightly into fists, gouging deep grooves into the hard black Xuan stone tabletop—a material so durable it could be used for forging weapons. His fingertips turned pale white, mirroring his complexion.

 

Half a day. To Xiao Mo, their separation had lasted no more than half a day.

 

But when they reunited today… when Xiao Mo looked at him with such hesitation and nostalgia… Chu Jinglan had thought—he had assumed—that Xiao Mo had also spent three hundred years somewhere else.

 

Gritting his teeth tightly, Chu Jinglan pressed harder against the table as cracks began forming across its surface.

 

So in Xiao Mo’s eyes, he thought bitterly, the person he saw half a day ago is still the me from three hundred years ago.

 

But what kind of person was Chu Jinglan three hundred years ago? Even he could barely remember anymore. Where was he supposed to find that version of himself for Xiao Mo?

 

“Bang!”

 

The black Xuan stone—so strong it could be used to craft weapons—crumbled into powder under Chu Jinglan’s hand and fell silently to the floor.

 

As black grains of sand scattered across the ground, Chu Jinglan panted slightly before lifting his gaze—and met his reflection in the mirror inside the room.

 

The muscles on Chu Jinglan’s face were tightly strained, and an unshakable hostility lingered between his brows. Even though he could barely remember what he used to look like, he knew for certain—it wasn’t like this.

 

Savage. Ugly.

 

Unable to bear it any longer, Chu Jinglan raised his hand, and with a loud crash, the mirror shattered, shards scattering across the floor.

 

The Chu Jinglan of the past could no longer be found. But… why did it have to be the past version of him?

 

Was he afraid Xiao Mo would be frightened and leave? But sooner or later, Xiao Mo would see his true self.

 

No—this wasn’t something to worry about. Xiao Mo was only at Nascent Soul stage now; even if he were truly scared, there was no way he could escape from Chu Jinglan’s grasp.

 

Chu Jinglan’s fingers slowly relaxed, and his expression gradually smoothed out.

 

Xiao Mo had said he wouldn’t leave the cultivation world anymore. That was good. Even if Xiao Mo came to despise the person Chu Jinglan had become after seeing his true self, there was no way he would ever let him leave again.

 

If you want something, take it yourself. He had waited long enough—he didn’t want to wait any longer.

 

He would never let Xiao Mo leave again. Never.

 

Chu Jinglan’s expression returned to calmness. With a wave of his hand, he cleaned up the mess in the room and casually picked up an incense burner. Carrying it with him, he returned to the room where Xiao Mo was waiting.

 

Inside, the tea was still steaming warmly, and Qiuqiu had already recognized Xiao Mo. The three-hundred-year-old bird was bawling its eyes out, crying so hard it had curled into a little ball.

 

“I still remember how comfortable your shoulder was! After you left, no one ever smoothed my feathers again! Waaaah… And Master—don’t be fooled by how famous he is—his life is so lonely! The sword puppets are just hunks of iron; they can’t even talk…”

 

Xiao Mo was gently rubbing Qiuqiu’s head when Chu Jinglan walked in and set down the incense burner. A calming scent began to waft through the air.

 

The moment Qiuqiu saw Chu Jinglan enter, it hiccupped mid-sob and froze for a moment before trembling slightly. It fluffed up its feathers nervously and stopped talking altogether.

 

Although Qiuqiu hadn’t been saying anything bad about its master, it still felt a guilty pang as if it had been caught gossiping. It quickly shut its beak and focused on enjoying Xiao Mo’s comforting strokes instead.

 

Chu Jinglan cast an emotionless glance at Qiuqiu—his gaze utterly calm and devoid of expression—but it was enough to make Qiuqiu’s feathers bristle in alarm. The bird immediately flew out from under Xiao Mo’s hand and retreated back into the flower basket by the window, pretending it didn’t exist.

 

Hearing Qiuqiu mention how lonely Chu Jinglan’s life had been, Xiao Mo spoke softly: “Chu Jinglan, is there a particular reason why Du-E Sect doesn’t accept disciples?”

 

Owning such vast land wasn’t typical for a small sect or clan. Yet not only did Du-E Sect refuse disciples, but even Yan Chun, Chu Xia and Mo Zhi had been denied entry—they could only linger at the foot of the mountain to this day. Meanwhile, Chu Jinglan guarded that enormous place all alone in solitude.

 

“I have no interest in teaching others,” Chu Jinglan replied simply, his pitch-black eyes fixed on Xiao Mo. “There are… other reasons as well. I’ll tell you about them later.”

 

Chu Jinglan gestured toward the window. “We’ve arrived at Baichuan City.”

 

Inside Baichuan City, Jinxiu Pavilion was hosting its Treasure Banquet today, and the entire city was bustling with excitement, basking in the event’s glory. The Jade Terrace served as the main banquet venue, reserved for hosting distinguished guests.

 

Originally, the banquet at the Jade Terrace should have started long ago, but neither the master of Jinxiu Pavilion nor the esteemed guests from various noble families and sects showed any complaints. Instead, they waited eagerly, full of anticipation.

 

Chu Xianzun—the Chu Xianzun—was coming! This was an honor beyond measure. Waiting as long as needed would be worth it!

 

Many had fantasized about what grand spectacle would accompany Chu Xianzun’s arrival. It was said that Chu Xianzun owned a flying boat made of black Xuan iron—an imposing vessel as vast as a fortress. When he had once traveled to the Demon Domain battlefield, his Xuan iron flying boat had blotted out the sky, with Chu Jinglan and his two hundred sword puppets commanding awe and terror across the battlefield. Just one glance at that scene was enough to leave people breathless.

 

Today, they wondered if they might be fortunate enough to witness such a sight. Even if it scared them half to death, as long as they didn’t actually die, it would be worth it just to brag about seeing it later!

 

The Treasure Banquet at Jinxiu Pavilion had attracted quite a crowd. Representatives from the Six Sects of the Clouds and major factions of the Immortal Alliance were present to admire and collect treasures. Yue Ming, now one of Yingyue Sect’s core members, was also in attendance.

 

Unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, Yue Ming turned to Wang Yichen for confirmation. “Are you sure this news is true?”

 

“Absolutely,” Wang Yichen replied confidently. “When has Jinxiu Pavilion ever spread false information?”

 

“It’s just… hard to believe,” Yue Ming admitted with a sigh.

 

He stared up at the sky and added softly, “To be honest, if he really has managed to move on, it’s a good thing—as long as the person by his side isn’t someone with ill intentions.”

 

Wang Yichen flicked open his folding fan with a casual motion. “I’ve also considered another possibility: what if Chu Jinglan found himself a substitute? Someone who isn’t truly his love?”

 

Yue Ming frowned at that suggestion. “He’s not that kind of person.”

 

Wang Yichen shook his fan gently and replied, “Love is one of life’s greatest torments. Three hundred years… Do you remember what he did when someone insulted Mo Lan after failing to win his favor?”

 

Yue Ming fell silent as he recalled that scene.

 

At that time, Chu Jinglan had not yet become Xianzun. Because of this, some still dared to provoke him—not only attempting underhanded schemes against him but even using his deceased Dao companion as a means to attack him.

 

But it didn’t take long before no one dared do such things again.

 

Because they had witnessed Chu Jinglan’s terrifying side—and his madness.

 

Madness is often associated with hysteria—a chaotic frenzy of emotions bursting forth uncontrollably. But after seeing Chu Jinglan in action, they realized madness could also be icy cold—a chill so piercing it froze one’s spine.

 

When Chu Jinglan killed his enemies back then, he neither raged nor smiled. It seemed as though he didn’t particularly want to kill anyone—but when he did, it was effortless. It felt like anyone present could have been next.

 

When Yue Ming learned that some people had tried using strange medicines to tamper with Chu Jinglan’s memories, he had been so furious he raised his sword and prepared to kill them himself—only to be stunned by how Chu Jinglan handled it instead.

 

It wasn’t brutal or savage—just one strike of his sword—but it was enough to leave everyone trembling in fear.

 

Wang Yichen slowly folded his fan shut and said thoughtfully: “Those of us who know him well are aware that even before becoming Xianzun, his temperament was already too lifeless. You’ve spent more time with him than I have—you’re the one who said he changed drastically after his Dao companion died. As time passed bit by bit… who knows whether he’s finally come to terms with it—or if he’s gone even madder?”

 

Back then, when Chu Jinglan brought the Golden Thread Diagram out of the Nine Secret Treasure Tower, he became a great benefactor to the Wang family. Wang Yichen, who admired talented individuals, used this as an opportunity to frequently approach Chu Jinglan. Even though Chu Jinglan treated him coldly, Wang Yichen still found ways to stick around.

 

Later, when Chu Jinglan established Du-E Sect, Wang Yichen would occasionally bring wine to visit him—only to sometimes be kicked out of the sect gates.

 

Wang Yichen never seemed to mind. He would dust himself off and tell others cheerfully: “He only threw me out—didn’t injure me or take my life. That means he wasn’t truly angry. I can still talk to Xianzun.”

 

Yue Ming impatiently ran his hand over his sword hilt. “In any case, I hope this turns out to be a good thing.”

 

He turned to Jun Bushu beside him and said, “Fortune teller, why don’t you divine something?”

 

Jun Bushu, still looking as sickly as ever, replied weakly: “There’s nothing to work with—I can’t divine anything. To even guess at something, I’d at least need to see both of them.”

 

“I hope it’s a good thing too,” Wang Yichen added. “But we need to keep an eye on this. Chu Xianzun is unmatched in strength—his only weakness is that old wound in his heart. He can’t handle any more tragic emotional turmoil. Ah—here they come.”

 

There was no grand spectacle accompanying their arrival—just an unassuming flying boat of moderate size. Most people didn’t recognize it, but Wang Yichen and Yue Ming certainly did.

 

The flying boat hovered in midair. Before most could react, Wang Yichen had already led the members of Jinxiu Pavilion forward to bow deeply and call out loudly: “We welcome Chu Xianzun!”

 

The others quickly followed suit, echoing in unison: “We welcome Chu Xianzun!”

 

Dressed in silver robes and a jade crown, with the Daybreak Sword at his side and a face as cold as frost—it was unmistakably Chu Xianzun. But what shocked everyone was that he wasn’t alone.

 

While many had thought Chu Xianzun’s appearance was unmatched in this world, seeing the person beside him made them realize there was always someone beyond compare. Unlike Chu Xianzun’s icy demeanor, this person exuded an entirely different kind of beauty.

 

Clad in flowing red robes with an ethereal grace like clouds at sunset and the radiance of moonlight.

 

One was frost and snow; the other was autumn moonlight—both peerless in their own way.

 

Everyone had known that Chu Jinglan was coming—but no one had expected him to bring another person with him.

 

As they bowed in greeting, none dared lift their heads until Chu Jinglan approached. When they finally looked up, they were all stunned.

 

Their focus wasn’t on how beautiful Xianzun and his companion were—it was on their clasped hands.

 

The two of them had arrived hand-in-hand.

 

A living person being held by Chu Xianzun!

 

The way they looked at Xiao Mo immediately changed: Who is this person? What is their relationship with Chu Xianzun?

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter