PID Chapter 118

(2/5)

And with this we are done with the wave.
Ocece again thank you Honi for the kofi!!

o( ˶^▾^˶ )o

---

Xiao Mo quickly conjured new clothes for himself but collapsed back onto the bed when his legs gave out as he tried to stand.

 

…As expected of Chu Xianzun from over two hundred years ago, Xiao Mo thought wryly. Even without going all the way, he still managed to wear me out completely—my waist feels like it’s about to snap.

 

Every spot where Xianzun had grabbed him now bore visible marks from bites—none of them gentle. Just looking at the bruises made it clear how rough he’d been.

 

Xiao Mo winced slightly as he used spiritual energy to soothe the discomfort across his body. In the space of the sea of consciousness, such aches and marks disappeared faster than they would in reality. However, by the time he left the room…

 

Chu Jinglan and his fragmented spiritual consciousness were already locked in an intense battle.

 

At two hundred years old, Chu Jinglan had already stepped into the Return to Void stage. However, within the sea of consciousness, the true advantage lay in the strength of spiritual consciousness. The Chu Jinglan who had entered this space now was pure and untainted, unaffected by external interference, and controlled directly by his main body. In contrast, the fragmented spiritual consciousness from over two hundred years ago—forced to split off—was no match for him.

 

Chu Xianzun was like a tormented ghost buried in a grave, while Chu Jinglan had already reached out to touch the sunlight.

 

The two fought with identical techniques, and as they exchanged blows, Chu Xianzun began to realize something.

 

There couldn’t possibly be a second Return to Void cultivator unless this person was… himself.

 

But how could there be two versions of himself existing at the same time? Chu Xianzun’s gaze swept across the surroundings. Everything—the grass, the trees—felt entirely real, not illusory.

 

Both of them fought mercilessly against each other. Two Return to Void cultivators clashing should have been enough to destroy everything in their vicinity. Yet strangely, despite the heavy pressure and violent spiritual energy fluctuations, nothing in the courtyard—the grass, the trees, or even the house—was harmed.

 

Naturally, Xiao Mo inside the house remained unharmed as well.

 

When Xiao Mo stepped outside, Chu Xianzun seemed to realize something and distanced himself from Chu Jinglan. The two paused their fight but maintained a tense standoff.

 

Xiao Mo didn’t know why Chu Jinglan had entered his own sea of consciousness, but judging by how ruthlessly he was fighting his fragment, it was clear he wasn’t holding back at all. Xiao Mo couldn’t help but remind him: “Chu Jinglan—that’s also you.”

 

Both versions of Chu Jinglan immediately turned their gazes toward Xiao Mo.

 

The marks on Xiao Mo’s neck and wrists had already faded. Chu Xianzun noticed this detail and his expression darkened further. “Who are you talking to?”

 

“Are you blind?” Chu Jinglan replied coldly and without mercy. “He’s talking to me.”

 

Xiao Mo: “…”

 

Chu Jinglan was supposed to be in an exceptionally clear-headed state right now, yet his icy demeanor suggested he was ready to execute his fragmented spiritual consciousness on the spot. But if this fragment were truly harmed, it would only cause pain for Chu Jinglan himself in the end.

 

Xiao Mo sighed softly and instinctively started walking toward Chu Jinglan to try persuading him further. However, as soon as his foot moved slightly in that direction, Chu Xianzun’s aura instantly froze everything around him like an icy tundra. Xiao Mo halted mid-step.

 

Fine, Xiao Mo thought resignedly. I won’t go over—I’ll stay in the middle.

 

After thinking for a moment, Xiao Mo turned to face Chu Xianzun and asked tentatively: “You’ve realized it too, haven’t you?”

 

Chu Xianzun simply replied: “I’m real.”

 

Of course he was real—his experiences and memories were genuine. He was the past version of Chu Jinglan from over two hundred years ago.

 

Xiao Mo nodded gently: “Of course you’re not fake. You’re from when he was over two hundred years old—and he is the Chu Jinglan of over three hundred years old.”

 

Chu Xianzun’s gaze slowly swept between Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan. If all other possibilities were ruled out and what Xiao Mo said was true, then this place must indeed be a sea of consciousness—and he himself was merely a fragment of spiritual consciousness.

 

Three hundred years…

 

“So after three hundred years—you finally came back.”

 

Chu Xianzun emphasized “three hundred years” heavily, dragging out each syllable with weight and bitterness. Xiao Mo felt his heart tighten painfully under those words. As with every fragment of spiritual consciousness he encountered before, he spoke softly to Chu Xianzun: “I’m sorry—I came back too late.”

 

“I won’t leave again.”

 

But Chu Xianzun remained unmoved by Xiao Mo’s words. As a fragment born during one of the most agonizing periods of his life—splintered from his main body—all he carried was pain. His response to Xiao Mo was cold and direct: “I told you—I don’t trust you.”

 

Three hundred years—a full three hundred years before Xiao Mo returned. What assurance did he have that Xiao Mo wouldn’t leave again? Back then, the original Chu Jinglan had believed he could coexist with his heart demon forever—that they would never separate. And yet Xiao Mo had disappeared without warning when he said he wouldn’t.

 

Yes, Heaven’s Will had found him and given him memories. He understood that this matter, regardless of right or wrong, wasn’t something he should blame anyone for. But so what?

 

He was in pain—his longing had boiled into madness, and on the pyre he had built, his heart burned to ashes in agonizing torment.

 

If there was no right or wrong, then let no one judge actions. He didn’t blame Xiao Mo, but he was determined to keep Xiao Mo firmly in his grasp—to do whatever he pleased, ensuring Xiao Mo couldn’t escape or run away. That was how it should be!

 

“Come here.”

 

Chu Xianzun raised his hand to grab Xiao Mo—but he forgot that Chu Jinglan was still there.

 

Chu Jinglan had remained silent while Xiao Mo spoke to the fragment of spiritual consciousness. But when that fragment reached out toward Xiao Mo, Chu Jinglan unleashed a sword intent that collided with the fragment’s own sword intent right before Xiao Mo.

 

Chu Xianzun stepped back half a step, eighteen streams of sword energy suddenly forming around him—all aimed directly at Chu Jinglan. “You don’t think the same way as me?”

 

“No.”

 

Chu Jinglan knew all too well what he had been thinking during that time. It was precisely because he understood that he now stood here.

 

The past was the past; the present was the present.

 

“You actually trust him?” Chu Xianzun’s voice carried more killing intent than even his sword energy as it surrounded him. “Break his wings and lock him in a cage—that’s the only way I’ll find peace!”

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t respond with words. His answer came in the form of his own sword energy—sharper and more piercing than Chu Xianzun’s. Though both were products of spiritual consciousness within this realm, Chu Jinglan’s sword energy was far superior.

 

When fighting with all their might, Chu Xianzun realized one thing: I can’t beat him.

 

But so what?

 

He would do what he wanted—he would imprison Xiao Mo. And if anyone tried to stop him? He would kill them—even if it meant killing himself!

 

The two figures clashed fiercely, their sword energy colliding with such force that even the skies within this realm seemed to change color. Du-E Peak trembled violently as the two fragments of spiritual consciousness fought for dominance over this space. Their movements were so fast that their afterimages blurred beyond recognition.

 

Xiao Mo watched as destruction spread across the distant landscape of this realm, listening to the deafening roars around him. His expression darkened.

 

If he let them continue fighting recklessly like this and the realm wasn’t allowed to dissipate naturally but instead collapsed under forced destruction, losing this fragment of spiritual consciousness would mean Chu Jinglan’s own consciousness might require decades of nurturing to recover from the damage.

 

Thinking quickly, Xiao Mo raised his hand and summoned the black iron chains from inside the house.

 

The two-hundred-year-old fragment wanted to wrest control from Chu Jinglan’s dominant consciousness—knowing full well it couldn’t win yet still pushing forward with self-destructive tendencies. All its defenses were shattered as Chu Jinglan grabbed it by the head and slammed it straight down from midair into a nearby mountain, leaving a massive crater in the ground.

 

“He is my Dao companion now.”

 

Chu Xianzun gripped Chu Jinglan’s arm tightly while Chu Jinglan pressed him down just as firmly without letting go. “If you won’t listen when he speaks kindly, then you’ll listen like this.”

 

“Chu Jinglan,” Chu Xianzun spat blood through gritted teeth. “You coward.”

 

Chu Jinglan slammed his head into the ground again with brutal force. “The coward is you.”

 

“I dared to bind him—I can truly possess him,” Chu Xianzun hissed before delivering a sudden side kick. “I can do what you can’t!”

 

But Chu Jinglan had anticipated his move long before it came. Blocking with his knee and lower leg, he stood unwaveringly firm—his stance unshaken. Mentioning this topic only reminded him of the marks left earlier on Xiao Mo’s body by Chu Xianzun’s actions. The thought made his grip tighten further—almost to the point of crushing Chu Xianzun’s skull entirely.

 

“You dare bring that up.”

 

The sound of grinding bone echoed as Chu Jinglan’s grip tightened around Chu Xianzun’s skull. His gaze grew darker and deeper, fully prepared to extinguish this arrogant fragment of spiritual consciousness. But just as he was about to act, the clinking sound of chains suddenly broke through the tension.

 

Both Chu Jinglan and Chu Xianzun froze momentarily, neither diverting their strength to resist.

 

…Because the person who had arrived was Xiao Mo.

 

Xiao Mo used the black iron chain to bind Chu Jinglan’s waist and forcefully pulled him back. Then, with a swift motion, he threw the chain around Chu Xianzun’s hands and feet, immobilizing him and leaving him rigidly lying on the ground.

 

The tables had turned—the control of the chains now rested in Xiao Mo’s hands.

 

In terms of spiritual consciousness strength, Xiao Mo wasn’t weak either. Within this space of intent, claiming control over a magical artifact was no problem for him.

 

Holding the chain firmly in his hand, Xiao Mo looked at both of them with a heavy expression.

 

He realized he had underestimated the situation. Although Chu Jinglan’s mind was supposed to be clear now, he hadn’t fully healed yet. If pushed too far, he was capable of destroying his own spiritual consciousness in his madness.

 

Despite his calm demeanor toward Xiao Mo, there was a deep ruthlessness ingrained in Chu Jinglan’s bones.

 

As for Chu Xianzun—his madness was loud and unrestrained. He knew exactly what he wanted to say and do.

 

Chu Xianzun had almost been annihilated earlier. His bloodshot eyes were filled with pain and fury. Meanwhile, Chu Jinglan’s expression softened when facing Xiao Mo, as if he hadn’t just been moments away from destroying his own fragment of spiritual consciousness.

 

Xiao Mo sighed deeply as he locked both of them down with the chain.

 

“Chu Jinglan.”

 

“I don’t hate the version of you from two hundred years ago.”

 

Chu Xianzun froze slightly at those words, while a crack appeared in the calm facade of Chu Jinglan’s expression.

 

“After our reunion—whether it was you venting your frustrations by saying you’d lock me up or seeing this chaotic scene now—I haven’t hated you.”

 

Xiao Mo’s tone wasn’t sweet or coaxing; it was simply factual. “I’ve said it before—no matter which version of you it is, I love all of you. That wasn’t a lie.”

 

Chu Jinglan had entered his sea of consciousness because he was worried about Xiao Mo. Yet his willingness to harm his own spiritual consciousness revealed unresolved inner turmoil.

 

After their reunion, when his mental state had been unstable, he had lashed out recklessly—spitting harsh words and exposing the darkest parts of himself to Xiao Mo. Now that his spiritual consciousness was recovering and clarity had returned, he felt ashamed that such ugliness could taint Xiao Mo’s view of him. And so he fell into another spiral of self-doubt.

 

Chu Jinglan stood frozen in place. His lips moved slightly as if trying to say something, but Xiao Mo tugged on the chain and interrupted him: “Don’t speak yet.”

 

Xiao Mo added with a touch of humor: “I’m afraid your words might end up making you angry enough to hurt yourself.”

 

Chu Jinglan walked along the chain toward Xiao Mo, his fingers curling slightly but remaining silent for now.

 

Meanwhile, Chu Xianzun struggled against his restraints upon seeing them standing together. Xiao Mo considered briefly before releasing the bindings on Chu Xianzun’s legs—but kept his hands tied. Chu Xianzun sat up straight and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Xiao Mo cut him off: “You shouldn’t speak either.”

 

Coldly defiant, Chu Xianzun thought: I won’t listen to you.

 

Just as Chu Xianzun was about to speak, Xiao Mo said softly, “Chu Jinglan and I have already formed the Red Luan mark. Our lives are bound together.”

 

Chu Xianzun: “!”

 

Chu Xianzun: “…”

 

And with that, Chu Xianzun fell silent.

 

The Red Luan mark—a bond forged under the auspices of the Luan star—meant that no one and nothing in the world could ever separate them. It was a proof far stronger than any words could offer.

 

“From now on, wherever Chu Jinglan is will be my home. If he lives, I live; if he dies, I perish. I will never leave him again. He is my first love, and there were many things I didn’t understand before.”

 

“I will spend my life learning how to be with him—how to treat him better every single day.”

 

Xiao Mo continued gently, “Trust me one more time, Chu Jinglan.”

 

The chains rattled softly as Chu Jinglan reached out and grasped Xiao Mo’s hand. At the same time, Chu Xianzun unknowingly stepped closer to Xiao Mo, staring at him in a daze.

 

Both versions of Chu Jinglan were still bound by chains. Xiao Mo wrapped part of the black iron chain around his own hand and smiled at Chu Xianzun.

 

“Let’s lock each other up—how about that?”

 

Chu Xianzun trembled slightly before gripping Xiao Mo’s wrist tightly.

 

This time, Chu Jinglan didn’t stop him.

 

“…Can I still trust you?” Chu Xianzun asked desperately, clutching Xiao Mo as if he were a drowning man grasping at a lifeline.

 

Xiao Mo pulled him to the surface with unwavering resolve: “Yes.”

 

Chu Xianzun’s bloodshot eyes shifted slightly before he raised his head forcefully and kissed Xiao Mo fiercely.

 

Xiao Mo released the heavy restraints on Chu Xianzun’s hands but left a small portion of the chain wrapped loosely around his wrist—not enough to hinder his movements but still a lingering presence.

 

With his hands free, Chu Xianzun raised one and firmly cupped the back of Xiao Mo’s head.

 

Without hesitation or reservation—decisive and resolute—he silently entrusted his faith to Xiao Mo once more.

 

Because aside from Xiao Mo… he truly couldn’t give it to anyone else.

 

Xiao Mo responded to his kiss while simultaneously sensing Chu Jinglan approaching from behind. He felt Chu Jinglan lean in and gently bite his earlobe.

 

Xiao Mo couldn’t help but shiver slightly.

 

Being tightly embraced by two people at once felt… strange.

 

Chu Jinglan whispered softly into his ear: “I trust you.”

 

The surrounding scenery began to fade—not with chaos or destruction this time but with tenderness.

 

Chu Xianzun released Xiao Mo’s lips and gazed at him with lingering affection. He noticed that Chu Jinglan was nuzzling against Xiao Mo’s left ear. After a moment of thought, Chu Xianzun leaned in and bit down on Xiao Mo’s other earlobe without hesitation—leaving his mark unapologetically.

 

Xiao Mo’s limbs went weak as he raised a hand in an attempt to push both of them away. “Chu Jinglan…”

 

As Chu Xianzun’s figure began to blur, he cast a sideways glance at Chu Jinglan. Though he didn’t speak aloud, his thoughts were clear enough for the main consciousness to understand:

 

Chu Xianzun: You’re still an eyesore.

 

Chu Jinglan: Annoying.

 

The realm dissolved completely, and the spiritual consciousness returned to its rightful place.

 

In Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness, the towering tree trembled violently. Its leaves rustled without wind, sweeping away all traces of darkness and deathly stillness. Vibrant life burst forth as its canopy expanded into an immense umbrella that covered the sky. Spiritual light exploded from beneath its crown like fireworks, filling the air with glowing fireflies and radiant brilliance.

 

Above, a brilliant sun rose in the sky. On the water pool below, red lotuses bloomed in full splendor while night-blooming cereus flowers gracefully lifted their elegant forms.

 

Amidst this flourishing scene, Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan’s now-complete spiritual consciousness embraced each other as they fell gently into the field of flowers.

 

Xiao Mo held Chu Jinglan close, gazing upward at the radiant sky and his beloved. His vision blurred slightly from the overwhelming beauty, but he couldn’t help laughing softly.

 

He noticed the faint curve at the corner of Chu Jinglan’s lips—a smile like snow melting under sunlight.

 

It was the most beautiful scene Xiao Mo had ever witnessed.

 

Xiao Mo kissed that beautiful scene.

 

Gentle, lingering.

 

Everything felt perfect.

 

But apparently, this “beautiful scene” had its own ideas. After lingering at Xiao Mo’s lips for a moment, it moved to his ear—the one that had been “attended to” by the two-hundred-year-old fragment of Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness.

 

Xiao Mo chuckled and cursed lightly: “Xianzun, are you ever done?”

 

Chu Jinglan teased as he nibbled on Xiao Mo’s ear: “Can I talk now?”

 

“Of course you can—it’s not like I told you to stay silent forever.”

 

Chu Jinglan straightened slightly and raised a hand to gently knead Xiao Mo’s earlobe. “Alright, then—I’ll say it. I want to dual cultivate here using the most effective dual cultivation technique.”

 

Xiao Mo: “…”

 

“Wait—this is your sea of consciousness!”

 

Dual cultivation within the sea of consciousness would require them to adjust both their spiritual consciousness and spiritual energy. Their senses would be amplified dozens of times.

 

While ordinary dual cultivation techniques might only involve light exchanges of spiritual energy, the most effective ones required deep and thorough interaction.

 

Just imagining it made Xiao Mo start trembling.

 

Back in the inner palace, when their two spiritual forms touched even slightly, it felt like they were ascending to heaven—waves of soul-stirring energy reverberating endlessly. And now they wanted to go all-in?

 

Would he even be able to leave this place with his sanity intact?

 

---

 

1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter