PID Chapter 113

(3/5)

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Xiao Mo, who hadn’t been able to touch anything before, suddenly found himself holding Chu Jinglan’s hand. Even he froze in surprise at the unexpected contact. Before he could react further, his hand was gripped tightly by an overwhelming force.

 

Chu Jinglan seemed to pour all his strength into that grip—so much so that his hand trembled violently, as though he might lose hold of Xiao Mo at any moment.

 

His eyes were filled with disbelief and barely contained hope, waiting desperately for Xiao Mo to confirm it with just one word or even a nod.

 

“…Xiao Mo?”

 

The cold wind blew in through the open window as Yingyue Sect prepared for another snowfall. Xiao Mo leaned closer under Chu Jinglan’s pull and whispered: “…Do you still have that snowman from back then?”

 

This was something only he and Chu Jinglan would know about.

 

A strong gust of wind swept through as Chu Jinglan yanked Xiao Mo forward with all his might—pulling him tightly into his embrace. His arms locked around Xiao Mo like chains, as if trying to bind him permanently.

 

Xiao Mo could hear both their heartbeats pounding in unison. He wrapped his arms around Chu Jinglan’s back and returned the embrace. As snowflakes began falling outside once more, Xiao Mo felt something warm land on his shoulder.

 

…Tears.

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t make a sound, but his chest trembled, and his breath hitched in the cold wind. He tried desperately to suppress himself but could only barely hold back his voice—not his tears.

 

At this point in time, Chu Jinglan could still cry—unlike centuries later when his heart would have dried up entirely, leaving him unable to shed tears anymore… only blood dripping from his body instead.

 

Xiao Mo’s heart ached sharply as he closed his eyes and leaned against Chu Jinglan’s shoulder, unable to speak for a long while.

 

“I thought you…” Chu Jinglan’s voice, forced out from his throat, was hoarse and strained. He paused before continuing slowly, “No… you would come back. I knew it. I knew it.”

 

The repeated “knew it” was clearly self-reassurance. Even Heaven’s Will didn’t know where Xiao Mo had gone or whether he would return—how could Chu Jinglan have known?

 

It was nothing more than waiting with unwavering hope.

 

Xiao Mo sniffled lightly. “How long have I been gone?”

 

“Two years.”

 

Two years… So the warmth hidden beneath Chu Jinglan’s icy exterior hadn’t yet faded—it had only been buried deeply, invisible to others. He was still far from the lifeless Xianzun of three hundred years later, but the pain had already begun.

 

At least he came back. Chu Jinglan’s chest loosened slightly, the tension of highs and lows finally easing. His trembling hands gradually steadied, and his grip softened. Realizing belatedly that he had been holding on too tightly, he awkwardly loosened his hold and stepped back slightly. “Did I hurt you?”

 

Xiao Mo shook his head.

 

Chu Jinglan’s eyes were still red as he raised his hand to wipe away the tears lingering at the corners of Xiao Mo’s eyes. Xiao Mo’s gaze shimmered with unshed tears as he smiled softly at him. “It doesn’t hurt. Do you believe now that I’m not a hallucination?”

 

Xiao Mo’s tone was deliberately lighthearted, but it reminded Chu Jinglan of when they had met in the lower realm at the Chu family estate. Back then, Xiao Mo had asked him if he often saw hallucinations—but Chu Jinglan hadn’t known who he was and hadn’t answered.

 

Chu Jinglan still didn’t know why Xiao Mo hadn’t revealed his identity back then or why it had taken him several days to come find him again. But now, he gave Xiao Mo the answer he hadn’t received before.

 

“I’ve never seen hallucinations.”

 

Though his mind would sometimes uncontrollably conjure fragments when his eyes were closed, when open, he could distinguish reality clearly. Yet sometimes, he thought that seeing hallucinations wouldn’t be so bad—at least… Xiao Mo would be there.

 

But thankfully, Xiao Mo had returned.

 

Chu Jinglan had so much he wanted to say to him. Yet after the strongest emotions of their reunion passed, he found himself feeling awkward—unsure where to begin. Every word seemed stuck in his throat, as if nothing could adequately express what he wanted to say.

 

After a long pause, Chu Jinglan finally managed to start: “Heaven’s Will came to me—I know about what happened before.”

 

Xiao Mo recalled what Chu Jinglan was referring to now. “Does it feel unreal?”

 

Chu Jinglan nodded but focused on the fact that he now understood Xiao Mo’s identity and the purpose behind his arrival in the cultivation world. “The old Heaven’s Will is far weaker than before—completely suppressed by the new Heaven’s Will. Only a trace of its consciousness remains, temporarily trapped in a mountain in Nanzhou.”

 

So Du-E Sect’s future location had already been chosen at this point.

 

Chu Jinglan said all this simply to ask: “So you won’t leave again… will you?”

 

The last sentence was what mattered most to him.

 

Xiao Mo lowered his gaze slightly and replied softly: “Mm—I won’t leave.”

 

Suddenly, Xiao Mo felt that his past self—the one who thought about leaving Chu Jinglan behind while handling everything alone before coming back for him—had been so foolish.

 

Falling in love with Chu Jinglan and not wanting him to face danger was understandable, but leaving him alone—was that really the right thing to do?

 

Looking at Chu Jinglan now, it was clear that it wasn’t.

 

Wanting the best for someone can feel justified no matter the approach, yet it can also feel entirely wrong. Reading about entangled emotions and grudges in stories had once seemed trivial to Xiao Mo, but now that he was deeply immersed in such matters himself, he realized how complex love truly was. The word love—so simple yet so overwhelming—left him powerless.

 

Only by being part of it could he understand how much he had taken for granted. In a relationship between two people, one shouldn’t overthink things, but neither should they think too little. Decisions made “for his sake” also needed to consider the other person’s feelings.

 

There was no absolute right or wrong—only what was suitable. Between Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan, there had to be a choice that worked for both of them.

 

Xiao Mo’s vision blurred again with moisture as he repeated softly: “I won’t leave.”

 

“I’ve kept all your things…” Chu Jinglan began, reaching into his storage space before suddenly pausing. He hesitated, then casually put his hand back as if nothing had happened. “It’s a bit messy—I’ll organize it and give it to you in a few days.”

 

“No rush.” Xiao Mo suppressed the surge of emotions in his heart and instead gave Chu Jinglan a smile appropriate for their reunion. “My current situation is still a bit unusual—I’ll probably remain in this spirit form for a while.”

 

Chu Jinglan nodded. “Alright.”

 

Then Chu Jinglan’s eyes widened slightly as he noticed something changing before him. The ordinary face he had been looking at slowly transformed into the one from his memories of past lives—the true face of Xiao Mo.

 

It wasn’t the heart demon’s face that bore some resemblance to his own—it was Xiao Mo’s own stunningly beautiful appearance.

 

The memories given to him by Heaven’s Will had felt unreal, but now that Xiao Mo stood before him in his true form, Chu Jinglan felt as though his heart was soaring into the clouds one moment and plunging into the depths of the sea the next—thumping loudly like thunder.

 

Xiao Mo tilted his head in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

 

“…I can see your true appearance now,” Chu Jinglan murmured.

 

“Ah,” Xiao Mo replied simply.

 

Chu Jinglan wanted to say beautiful, but he worried it might sound too abrupt. His ears flushed red as he held back the words, though his expression betrayed him completely.

 

A Chu Jinglan who could still blush like this would be impossible to find in the future. Xiao Mo finally found a bit of sweetness amidst all the bitterness and smiled sincerely. That smile only made Chu Jinglan’s ears turn even redder.

 

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Chu Jinglan quickly averted his gaze. “You can stay in this room.”

 

Xiao Mo teased lightly: “Didn’t we always rest together?”

 

Back then, they often shared the same bed. Chu Jinglan paused briefly before replying: “Alright… I’ll just go take a closer look at the snowman you made.”

 

With that, Chu Jinglan leaped out of the window and headed toward the snowman in the corner of the courtyard. Standing by the window with a smile on his lips, Xiao Mo watched him go.

 

It was strange—after interacting with Chu Jinglan, Xiao Mo found himself able to touch other objects again, like the window frame. His hands no longer passed through things as they had before. Just moments ago, he’d said that his spirit form might persist for some time—but it didn’t matter. Being able to touch things again was undoubtedly a good sign.

 

As Chu Jinglan reached out to touch the snowman, the scene around them shifted once more. Xiao Mo was no longer inside the room but standing on a small path—still within Yingyue Sect—with Chu Jinglan beside him.

 

Chu Jinglan noticed Xiao Mo had stopped walking and turned slightly toward him. “What is it?”

 

“Nothing,” Xiao Mo replied quickly. Seeing that Chu Jinglan still recognized him reassured him. But what were they doing now? Why hadn’t there been any context leading up to this?

 

Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan continued walking along the small path paved with blue stone slabs. The path wasn’t particularly deep or winding, but it was tranquil. After walking for a while, they began to hear the faint sound of rushing water. The air grew increasingly moist, and as they turned a corner, Xiao Mo looked up to see a massive waterfall cascading down with roaring intensity, crashing into the mountains below.

 

What made the scene even more remarkable was the glowing medicinal herbs growing around the waterfall. They climbed up the cliffs in clusters, their light shimmering like stars. Purple mist rose like clouds, blending with the water vapor to create a breathtaking sight—like a celestial river descending from the heavens.

 

Xiao Mo hadn’t explored every corner of Yingyue Sect before and hadn’t known about this stunning location. They stood at the best vantage point, taking in the view. As Xiao Mo admired the scene, Chu Jinglan’s fingers twitched slightly before he slowly retrieved a storage device and handed it to Xiao Mo.

 

“All your belongings are inside.”

 

Xiao Mo accepted the storage device and wasn’t planning to check its contents immediately, but Chu Jinglan said: “Take a look.”

 

Xiao Mo paused, holding the storage device in his hand. His peripheral vision caught Chu Jinglan’s feigned calmness and his slightly curled fingers. A sudden realization struck Xiao Mo, one that made his heart skip a beat before it began racing.

 

What special item could be inside this storage device?

 

Feeling inexplicably nervous, Xiao Mo pressed his fingers against the storage device and said softly: “…Alright.”

 

He began inspecting its contents and immediately noticed how meticulously everything had been organized. One item stood out prominently in the center—a box left open with a letter inside. On the envelope were the words “To Xiao Mo” written in elegant calligraphy.

 

It was unmistakably Chu Jinglan’s handwriting—bold and flowing like dragons, sharp yet graceful like iron strokes on silver hooks.

 

Xiao Mo carefully took out the letter. Under Chu Jinglan’s tense gaze, he held his breath as he opened it.

 

Inside was a single thin sheet of paper with one sentence written on it:

 

“The mountain has trees; trees have branches. My heart delights in you—you do not know.”

 

In the corner of the letter was a small, delicate licorice flower pressed flat.

 

Others might use peach blossoms to convey affection, but licorice flowers—though less vibrant than peach blossoms—were sweeter.

 

Xiao Mo exhaled softly.

 

A beautiful scene paired with a heartfelt letter—this was what young Chu Jinglan had prepared to present to him. Perhaps when Xiao Mo looked up from reading the letter, Chu Jinglan had planned to say something else to him.

 

At this age, Chu Jinglan had been entirely focused on waiting for Xiao Mo’s return—thinking about how he could treat him well and boldly express his feelings without leaving any regrets.

 

This was the heart of twenty-something-year-old Chu Jinglan—a confession that had decayed along with him over time and faded into history’s long river.

 

Xiao Mo lifted his gaze from the letter and looked at Chu Jinglan.

 

Chu Jinglan seemed ready for this moment. As soon as their eyes met, he immediately opened his mouth to speak: “Xiao Mo, I—”

 

“I love you,” Xiao Mo said first.

 

Chu Jinglan’s eyes widened in surprise, his hand trembling as his words faltered.

 

Xiao Mo held the letter close to his chest, his smile tinged with emotion as he looked at Chu Jinglan. “My heart is like yours. I love you, Chu Jinglan.”

 

Chu Jinglan’s breathing grew uneven. His eyes slowly reddened as he took small steps closer to Xiao Mo, his voice hoarse and trembling: “…That was supposed to be my line.”

 

“You’ve already said it.” Xiao Mo pressed the letter against his chest. “I saw it. I saw everything.”

 

Tentatively, Chu Jinglan raised his hand and gently touched Xiao Mo’s face. Xiao Mo didn’t flinch or pull away; instead, he leaned into Chu Jinglan’s palm.

 

It feels like a dream, Chu Jinglan thought.

 

His hand and chest felt like they were burning, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Drawing closer to Xiao Mo, he kissed him lightly on the forehead—awkwardly and trembling with emotion.

 

“…I love you, Xiao Mo,” he finally whispered.

 

At last, he voiced his feelings—his long-held love that had been buried under years of waiting and longing. The pain of waiting had been immense, but in the end, what he received was mutual affection.

 

The surrounding scenery began to fade away. Xiao Mo instinctively tightened his grip on the letter in his hand, but even the paper and the licorice flower began to vanish. He knew they weren’t real—that it was time for them to disappear—but still, he couldn’t help trying to hold onto that unique and irreplaceable letter.

 

But his hand didn’t fall into emptiness.

 

Because Chu Jinglan held it firmly in his own.

 

This fragment of Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness seemed to understand what was happening. It ignored the dissolving surroundings, focusing only on Xiao Mo’s figure.

 

Xiao Mo parted his lips to say: “I’m sor—”

 

“I don’t want to hear that,” Chu Jinglan interrupted softly yet firmly. “I want to kiss you. May I?”

 

Xiao Mo nodded.

 

Chu Jinglan brushed his lips lightly against Xiao Mo’s—a fleeting touch—but his eyes were filled with contentment and peace. Grasping Xiao Mo’s hand tightly, he pressed it against his chest and said: “Take me away from here. I’ve been here for far too long.”

 

He had been buried in this place for so long that he had almost forgotten all the tenderness and promises he once held—and even who he used to be.

 

Xiao Mo replied with difficulty: “Alright.”

 

Chu Jinglan transformed into a small icy-white orb of light in Xiao Mo’s hand—just like how he had once appeared beside the little black mist in the inner palace years ago.

 

As the scenery gradually dissolved like grains of sand falling away, Xiao Mo found himself back in Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness amidst the withered night-blooming cereus flowers where he had stood all along.

 

Xiao Mo bent down and gently placed the icy-white orb into one of the night-blooming cereus flowers. The flower trembled slightly before its blackened and wilted colors instantly faded away. Silvery-blue vitality returned to its petals as they unfolded softly and bloomed anew. The surrounding flowers also seemed affected—they lifted their heads slightly, showing signs of revival.

 

The flower swayed gently, as if greeting Xiao Mo. Smiling warmly, Xiao Mo reached out and touched it lightly.

 

When he turned around, Xiao Mo froze for a moment.

 

The red lotus in the water pool had already bloomed brilliantly—its vibrant petals fully unfurled.

 

Around it were several new red lotus buds beginning to emerge, slowly driving away the deathly aura from the pool.

 

The fully bloomed red lotus drifted toward the edge of the pool where the first revived night-blooming cereus stood nearby. The cereus tilted its head slightly and stretched its petals toward the lotus until they nestled together once more.

 

Three hundred years later, they had been reborn—and reunited again.

 

Xiao Mo pressed a hand against his chest before quickly turning to leave Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness.

 

He needed to wake up from his dream immediately—he needed to see Chu Jinglan right away.

 

Xiao Mo suddenly opened his eyes. The world outside was pitch black, but the room was lit with warm lamplight. Sitting quietly by the bedside, Chu Jinglan was watching him.

 

As Xiao Mo woke, Chu Jinglan met his gaze and, as if sensing something, opened his arms toward him.

 

The changes in Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness and the restoration of his fragmented spiritual consciousness were things he could naturally feel.

 

The warmth and overflowing emotions that the fragment had experienced now filled Chu Jinglan’s heart completely, almost to the point of overwhelming him.

 

It was both unfamiliar and deeply familiar to him—a warmth so intense it left him unsure of how to react.

 

With his arms open, Xiao Mo naturally embraced him and kissed his lips.

 

Chu Jinglan no longer had to fear being left without a response. That letter, long lost in the sands of time, had finally received Xiao Mo’s reply in this moment.

 

Under the warm red canopy, their clothes loosened as they fell together onto the bed. Their breaths intertwined and grew warmer as they shared each other’s heat.

 

When Xiao Mo couldn’t bear it anymore and turned his face slightly away, Chu Jinglan gently turned him back and captured his voice along with his lips.

 

Xiao Mo raised his hand to wrap around Chu Jinglan’s neck. The golden chain between them warmed as well, its presence fading into insignificance.

 

Even without chains, they were undeniably bound together.

 

Your heart is like mine; neither of us will betray this love.

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter