PID Chapter 112

(2/5)

(⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)

 

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A breeze stirred in the forest as light rain began to fall. The wind and rain rustled through the leaves, filling the air with soft sounds. Facing Chu Jinglan’s icy gaze, Xiao Mo felt a dull ache in his heart—not for himself but for Chu Jinglan.

 

He spoke softly: “Do you often see hallucinations?”

 

Chu Jinglan’s voice was colder than the raindrops: “I’m the one asking questions.”

 

Xiao Mo had been deliberating how to explain himself since earlier. Now, he finally found an answer: “I’m not entirely sure what I am either. All I know is that I’m a strange wandering spirit with no place to go. I happened to pass by the Chu family estate and got curious enough to take a look inside. No one could see me—except you—so naturally, I wanted to follow you and talk to you.”

 

A spirit… Xiao Mo’s former inner demon form had also been an unusual kind of spiritual entity.

 

The words “spirit body” brushed past Chu Jinglan’s ears, and whatever thoughts they stirred within him, only he knew. After listening to Xiao Mo’s explanation, he remained silent, his sword still steadily pointed at Xiao Mo without withdrawing.

 

Suddenly, his hand moved.

 

But instead of pulling the sword back, he abruptly thrust it toward Xiao Mo with a chilling, bone-piercing intensity.

 

Xiao Mo stood motionless, neither resisting nor dodging.

 

The sword seemed ferocious, as though it was meant to kill him. Yet in the end, it merely grazed past his neck without piercing any vital spot.

 

When Xiao Mo first appeared in this life as a inner demon, Chu Jinglan had also attacked him with a sword. At that time, Xiao Mo had frozen out of fear of the weapon and a sense of resignation—choosing not to move out of defiance. But this time was different.

 

Xiao Mo understood Chu Jinglan too well. A sword that looked fierce but carried no killing intent couldn’t scare him.

 

Seeing that Xiao Mo hadn’t moved at all, Chu Jinglan turned the blade horizontally and pressed it down against Xiao Mo’s shoulder. As expected, the blade passed through his shoulder as though slicing through air.

 

A spirit body could use spells but couldn’t be harmed by physical attacks.

 

Chu Jinglan withdrew his sword and turned away to continue pulling weeds. “Don’t follow me.”

 

Xiao Mo didn’t leave. He continued clearing weeds on the other side of the grave. Chu Jinglan treated him like air and didn’t answer the question Xiao Mo had asked earlier.

 

This was only within Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness. The flow of time here differed from the outside world—like dreaming an entire lifetime only to wake up and find that barely a moment had passed. Xiao Mo had plenty of time and patience to retrieve this fragment of Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness.

 

Though Xiao Mo could use spells, he realized he couldn’t wrap spiritual energy around himself like he could when he was a inner demon to physically interact with objects. So he resorted to using spiritual energy bit by bit to clear the weeds. He could have removed large patches at once, but since Chu Jinglan was pulling weeds by hand, Xiao Mo chose to express his sincerity in tending the grave by working similarly—albeit through other means.

 

When they finished clearing the weeds, Chu Jinglan placed offerings before Wan Yu’s grave and lit incense. Xiao Mo also paid his respects at Wan Yu’s tombstone.

 

The rain that had started as a few scattered droplets gradually became finer and denser. However, in the forest, the thick canopy of trees caught most of the rain for now—only small amounts fell through, barely enough to wet the soil.

 

Chu Jinglan still didn’t bother cleaning himself of the bloodstains covering him. He stood silently before the tombstone while Xiao Mo remained quiet beside him, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting leaves.

 

As the rain grew heavier and began dripping through the leaves more consistently, Xiao Mo formed a cleansing spell between his fingers. Afraid that casting it directly on Chu Jinglan might provoke his hostility, he shaped the spell into a small orb and sent it toward him tentatively.

 

Chu Jinglan froze slightly when he saw the cleansing orb.

 

Most people cast cleansing spells with a casual wave of their hand. But back when Chu Jinglan had been recovering from injuries—frequently coughing up blood and drenched in sweat—Xiao Mo would always use these small orbs to help clean him continuously.

 

For a moment, Chu Jinglan didn’t move and allowed the orb to approach him. It cleaned all the bloodstains from his body until he was spotless once more.

 

Chu Jinglan glanced at Xiao Mo with an expression devoid of emotion.

 

Xiao Mo smiled at him gently and asked: “I’m curious—what do I look like in your eyes?”

 

What kind of appearance? Two eyes, one nose, and a mouth—a normal-looking person, yet with a face devoid of any memorable features. It was as if the moment Chu Jinglan turned his head, he would forget what Xiao Mo looked like entirely.

 

For once, Chu Jinglan broke his silence and answered Xiao Mo’s question: “Ordinary.”

 

Then he turned and walked away, leaving the forest and stepping into the pouring rain.

 

Xiao Mo followed him out. Outside the forest, rainwater had already pooled in pits and puddles. As Chu Jinglan stepped across the ground, water splashed around him. In the vast expanse of wind and rain, he appeared utterly alone—isolated and cold, with no one to rely on.

 

He had avenged his mother, but no one remained by his side. If he could trade his revenge for their return, Chu Jinglan would have done so in a heartbeat. But life offered no such choices—there was never an if.

 

The rain blurred Xiao Mo’s vision, making it hard to see Chu Jinglan’s figure clearly. He quickly called out: “Chu Jinglan!”

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t turn back.

 

Xiao Mo reached out toward him, but just as his hand was about to touch Chu Jinglan’s shoulder, the sound of heavy splashing filled the air. In the next moment, the scene before Xiao Mo shifted again.

 

His hand fell into emptiness as Chu Jinglan reappeared five paces away from him—his head bowed low while standing before the sighing sect master of Yingyue Sect.

 

The scene had abruptly changed from their revenge in the lower realm to their return to Yingyue Sect in the upper realm. They were now in Yingyue Sect’s main hall.

 

The sect master sighed deeply: “I’ve heard about everything. Since you avenged your mother, it’s only natural and justified. Don’t mind the gossip outside—I’ll handle it. For now, stay within the sect and focus on your cultivation.”

 

Speaking earnestly, he added: “The demon race has been stirring up trouble recently. I fear there won’t be many peaceful days ahead between humans and demons. The younger generation of disciples must prepare themselves early.”

 

Chu Jinglan lowered his head and saluted respectfully: “Understood.”

 

After leaving the main hall, Chu Jinglan walked toward his residence. Along the way, he encountered other disciples of Yingyue Sect. Many had likely heard rumors about him; their gazes carried fear. Some didn’t know the truth and assumed he would be punished for wiping out his family—they viewed him with disdain for being ruthless and cruel, mixing their fear with anger at what they perceived as a bloodthirsty killer.

 

Chu Jinglan ignored them all—even when whispers reached his ears, he continued walking without pause.

 

But Xiao Mo couldn’t hold back any longer. Turning toward a group of gossiping disciples behind them, he snapped: “Do you even know anything about him? Stop spouting nonsense!”

 

Chu Jinglan lifted his gaze slightly.

 

However, he didn’t turn around—and Xiao Mo didn’t notice.

 

Xiao Mo followed him all the way to his residence before Chu Jinglan finally stopped walking.

 

“Why are you here again?” Chu Jinglan asked flatly.

 

Xiao Mo guessed that not much time had passed since their revenge in the lower realm. He replied lightly: “I have nowhere else to go. I’ve wandered for a long time without anyone to talk to—so I came to find you.”

 

Chu Jinglan repeated what he always said: “Stay away from me.”

 

Xiao Mo didn’t respond directly; instead, he simply smiled.

 

Knowing he couldn’t do anything about this intangible spirit that couldn’t be touched or harmed, Chu Jinglan remained silent for a moment before turning and entering his room. He shut the door behind him and even set up a barrier outside—not that it would make any difference.

 

Of course, it didn’t work.

 

But Xiao Mo didn’t barge into the room either. He stayed in the courtyard instead—floating in mid-air as if sitting on an invisible chair since he couldn’t interact with physical objects.

 

Yingyue Sect’s residences were places Xiao Mo hadn’t stayed in for long during his time there—but this courtyard looked quite different from what he remembered.

 

The flowers, grass, and trees that once decorated it were all gone—replaced with stone after being cleared out completely. The entire courtyard had become a barren sword practice field devoid of any charm or beauty. The only trace of scenery left was some snow from yesterday; while the center of the field had been swept clean of snow, remnants still lingered along its edges.

 

Xiao Mo had an idea and walked to the edge of the courtyard. Using his spiritual energy, he gathered some snow and built a small snowman.

 

Just as he finished building it, the flow of memories sped up. The bright daylight from a moment ago turned into night, and the loft where Chu Jinglan lived was completely dark, with not a single lamp lit. Xiao Mo created a small orb of spiritual light and placed it around himself and the snowman.

 

The scenery within Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness and the progression of memories were beyond Xiao Mo’s control. In the next moment, he didn’t know whether he would blink and find himself years ahead or see daylight return with Chu Jinglan stepping out of his room.

 

But since Yingyue Sect’s sect master had instructed Chu Jinglan to focus on cultivation, there was also the possibility that Chu Jinglan might enter closed-door meditation and not leave his room at all.

 

Thinking this over, Xiao Mo decided to sneak into the loft to take a look at what Chu Jinglan was doing.

 

He easily passed through the barrier and floated into Chu Jinglan’s bedroom. However, to his surprise, Chu Jinglan wasn’t there.

 

Xiao Mo froze for a moment before checking the training room and study—but neither place held him.

 

Could it be…

 

Xiao Mo’s heart pounded heavily as he slowly made his way to the room where he had originally stayed.

 

Chu Jinglan was indeed there.

 

He was sitting cross-legged on a low couch in meditation. The room was filled with calming incense, but it was clear that Chu Jinglan’s cultivation wasn’t going smoothly. His brows were tightly furrowed, and his breathing was unstable.

 

Next to the low couch lay Phantom Moon Core, placed where only Chu Jinglan could see it. When he looked at Phantom Moon Core, what was he thinking?

 

Surely, Xiao Mo’s image must have been in his mind.

 

Xiao Mo’s eyes reddened as he watched. Just then, Chu Jinglan’s spiritual energy went awry, causing him pain enough to let out a muffled groan. Alarmed, Xiao Mo quickly sent out his own spiritual energy to help smooth out Chu Jinglan’s flow.

 

In the real past, Xiao Mo hadn’t been by Chu Jinglan’s side during this time. There had been no one to transfer spiritual energy to him—he had endured all the pain alone.

 

How many nights like this had he suffered through on his own?

 

When Chu Jinglan opened his eyes, he saw the spirit before him—its red-rimmed eyes filled with sorrow.

 

This figure had helped suppress his chaotic spiritual consciousness and stabilized his energy flow, leaving him slightly dazed. For once, seeing an uninvited guest in his room didn’t prompt him to draw his sword immediately.

 

And yet… why did this spirit look on the verge of tears?

 

Chu Jinglan remained silent for a moment before speaking in a hoarse voice: “Leave. Outsiders aren’t welcome here.”

 

This time, Xiao Mo didn’t leave.

 

“Because this is his room?” Xiao Mo asked softly.

 

Chu Jinglan’s gaze turned sharp like icy blades, piercing coldly into Xiao Mo.

 

Xiao Mo choked on his words: “You’re waiting for him?”

 

Chu Jinglan replied harshly: “Get out.”

 

Xiao Mo tried again: “I…”

 

“Get out!” Chu Jinglan roared.

 

He drew his sword with a flash of steel. Though his blade couldn’t harm Xiao Mo—no matter how heavy its killing intent—it still radiated ferocity like a paper tiger baring its fangs. Yet even so, Chu Jinglan unleashed all his rage as if ready to tear apart the figure before him with sheer force.

 

He had to admit, this spirit was incredibly peculiar. Everyone else assumed he was simply mourning Xiao Mo, but this spirit had said he was waiting.

 

“I don’t know how you know this is his room,” Chu Jinglan said slowly, enunciating each word, “but since you understand, then leave immediately. My Dao companion’s residence is not a place for outsiders.”

 

He was like a beast whose territory had been invaded—unyielding and unwilling to retreat.

 

Xiao Mo hesitated before speaking softly: “…Would you open the window and take a look?”

 

Chu Jinglan fixed him with the most guarded gaze, his eyes filled with suspicion. Yet he knew he couldn’t do anything to a spirit. And under Xiao Mo’s gaze, he couldn’t help but falter momentarily.

 

There was something familiar about this spirit—something that made his heart ache.

 

It felt as though he knew this person.

 

And yet, because it was a spirit, it inevitably reminded him of Xiao Mo.

 

After a brief standoff, Chu Jinglan finally pushed the window open and looked outside.

 

The courtyard hadn’t changed much—except for the addition of a snowman illuminated by a small orb of spiritual light.

 

It looked exactly like the snowman Xiao Mo had once handed to him and preserved with magic.

 

With a loud clang, Chu Jinglan’s sword fell to the ground.

 

He turned abruptly and stared at Xiao Mo, his hands trembling along with his voice: “You… you…”

 

Xiao Mo hadn’t revealed his identity earlier because Chu Jinglan had been in poor condition during his revenge. Exposing the truth then might have damaged this fragment of spiritual consciousness further. But now, after finishing his cultivation, Chu Jinglan was at his most stable state.

 

His spiritual consciousness had already begun to sense something—but he didn’t dare think too deeply about it. He didn’t dare hope. Could Xiao Mo really be back?

 

Xiao Mo’s voice cracked as he said: “Chu Jinglan—it’s me.”

 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you wait so long—so long that even your subconscious believed seeing me again was nothing but wishful thinking.

 

Xiao Mo reached out and took the hand of twenty-something-year-old Chu Jinglan. “I’m sorry—I came back too late.”

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter