PID Chapter 114

(4/5)

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The guesthouse beds at Yaori Sect were not only spacious but also sturdy.

 

Xiao Mo rolled over lazily on the bed while Chu Jinglan returned from outside carrying a food box from Yaori Sect’s kitchen.

 

The restoration of Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness had made remarkable progress. Now, even without the chain binding them together, he could temporarily leave Xiao Mo to travel the short distance from their room to Yaori Sect’s kitchen.

 

Though it wasn’t far—just three or five hundred meters—it was still a significant step for Chu Jinglan.

 

The scene of waking up to Chu Jinglan entering with a food box gave Xiao Mo a nostalgic sense of having returned to their days at Yingyue Sect.

 

The bed proved sturdy enough for all their “activity,” and as cultivators with strong bodies, they could endure plenty. Yet the lingering laziness in Xiao Mo’s body persisted long after. He stretched lazily before getting up, dressing himself, and walking over to the table.

 

Chu Jinglan began unpacking the dishes from the food box. The disciples at the kitchen had been idle for some time, and Chu Jinglan was their first guest. They had all showcased their best culinary skills and prepared many dishes—but since Chu Jinglan didn’t know how good their cooking was, he only took one food box worth of items.

 

The disciples were eager for feedback and enthusiastically encouraged him to return if he liked the food.

 

Naturally, those tasked with serving esteemed guests were skilled enough to impress. As Xiao Mo looked at the table filled with spiritual food, Chu Jinglan poured him a cup of jade dew to soothe his throat.

 

After all that effort last night, speaking had become taxing—his throat truly needed some care.

 

Xiao Mo drank two cups of jade dew before speaking again. His voice carried a faint rasp that lingered like an echo: “Your spiritual consciousness shattered into so many fragments—you should have told me sooner.”

 

“It’s been shattered for too long, buried too deep—I was starting to forget it myself.”

 

Chu Jinglan poured himself a cup as well. A century ago, he had already given up on retrieving the fragments of his spiritual consciousness buried deep within his sea of consciousness. He couldn’t reach them, and even his own efforts were rejected by the graves hidden in those depths. Yet somehow, Xiao Mo had found an opening.

 

The return of a piece of his spiritual consciousness—cleansed and filled with intense emotions—left Chu Jinglan in a state of quiet turbulence. It was only just now that his sea of consciousness had fully calmed.

 

As he walked the short distance between the kitchen and their room earlier, he had felt the lazy warmth of sunlight on his skin for the first time in ages. He squinted slightly and looked up at the sky.

 

It was clear and boundless—a beautiful day.

 

“The Tianyuan Secret Realm opens in seven days,” Xiao Mo said. “From now until then, I’ll focus on diving into the depths of your sea of consciousness to retrieve more fragments.”

 

However, Xiao Mo knew that every time a fragment was retrieved and reintegrated, Chu Jinglan would need time to adjust. The shifts in his emotional state and the process of merging memories couldn’t be rushed all at once.

 

“If you feel like you need a break,” Xiao Mo added gently, “just let me know, and I’ll pause until you’ve fully adjusted.”

 

Chu Jinglan nodded. “Alright.”

 

The memories within the fragment included moments spent with Xiao Mo. After three hundred years, if not for this fragment being unearthed, Chu Jinglan would have nearly forgotten that he had once written such a letter.

 

That letter had turned to ash fifty years after Xiao Mo left.

 

While organizing items in his storage device, Chu Jinglan had come across the letter again. He had held it for a moment before burning it.

 

At the time, he couldn’t recall what he had felt while writing it or even what he had thought when burning it. But now, with the return of that fragment, his heart stirred once more—bringing back the emotions he’d felt when penning those words.

 

Back then, though longing was bitter, hope had outweighed it. As a young man full of anticipation, Chu Jinglan had poured his quiet admiration into each stroke of ink as he wrote that short letter and placed a licorice flower on top.

 

And now, in an unexpected twist of fate, Xiao Mo had finally received that letter.

 

Chu Jinglan set down his cup. The jade dew he had been drinking was smooth but tasteless—refreshing yet bland. Picking up a bottle of wine nearby, he poured himself some instead.

 

Over the years, whenever he drank water, it was usually replaced by alcohol—strong liquor at that. Chu Jinglan didn’t particularly enjoy drinking or care about flavors; he simply preferred the sharpness and stimulation of strong alcohol because, for someone as numb and lifeless as him, it at least left some sensation behind.

 

Xiao Mo caught a whiff of the wine’s aroma and asked curiously: “Do you like wine now?”

 

Chu Jinglan shook his head. “I wouldn’t say I like it.”

 

After a brief pause, he added: “I just prefer it over other things.”

 

“What do you think of this wine?” Xiao Mo asked.

 

“Bland,” Chu Jinglan replied after setting down his cup.

 

“You still like strong ones,” Xiao Mo teased lightly. “Like that Forget Worries Wine Mo Zhi brought out?”

 

Chu Jinglan nodded slightly. Xiao Mo smiled: “Then I’ll learn how to make wine myself—we can try brewing our own.”

 

Chu Jinglan wasn’t particularly fond of drinking, but if Xiao Mo wanted to brew wine, he wouldn’t refuse. Over the years, Chu Jinglan had tasted many kinds of alcohol and could comment on them if asked—but no matter what kind of wine Xiao Mo brewed, Chu Jinglan would undoubtedly drink every drop.

 

As Xiao Mo ate quietly at the table, Chu Jinglan’s communication jade lit up with a message from Yan Chun at Du-E Sect:

 

“Master, it’s about time we finalize the guest list for the ceremony.”

 

The ceremony marking Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan’s union as Dao companions required invitations to be sent out. Naturally, Yan Chun and the others didn’t dare make decisions about who to invite without consulting Chu Jinglan first—they could only wait for him to provide a finalized list so they could prepare invitations.

 

Chu Jinglan replied calmly: “Alright. Once I finalize it, I’ll send you the details.”

 

Chu Jinglan set down the communication jade and asked Xiao Mo, “Who do you want to invite?”

 

Xiao Mo, having changed his identity, considered the people he had once been close to—many of whom were also familiar with Chu Jinglan. After thinking for a moment, Xiao Mo listed: “Yue Ming, Jun Bushu, Liu Shao, and Jing Lei should definitely be invited.”

 

Liu Shao from Lin’an Academy and Jing Lei from Jade Mountain Sect in the Central Realm were individuals who had gone to great lengths to help Chu Jinglan recover his dantian.

 

“Oh, and we should include Wang Yichen,” Xiao Mo added. “As for the rest of the noble families and sects—whether to invite them or not, and who specifically, you know better than I do. You can decide.”

 

Chu Jinglan nodded in agreement.

 

Around midday, Yue Ming stopped by with news. He reported that the team escorting Fenxiu had been attacked again. However, this time the attackers were far fewer—only two Great Perfection cultivators—and compared to the large-scale battle they had faced earlier, this was insignificant. The fragmented remnants of their enemies seemed unable to muster the same level of threat as before.

 

“Even so, Yaori Sect remains on high alert,” Yue Ming said. “The prison is ready, and the traps they’ve set are well-designed. They appear to leave an opening but are actually a trap to lure enemies into a dead end.”

 

He added: “Fenxiu will only remain at Yaori Sect for two or three days before being executed.”

 

Fenxiu had been used as bait to deal another heavy blow to the remnants of their enemies. His celestial demon blood, capable of enhancing both demons and demon cultivators, posed a significant risk. Now that most of the remnants had been cleared out, there was no reason to keep him alive any longer.

 

“I still remember the battles between humans and demons back then,” Yue Ming said with a heavy snort. “Letting him live for another hundred years was already too generous.”

 

“Being locked in a cell waiting for death is far more painful for him,” Chu Jinglan replied calmly.

 

Noticing that Chu Jinglan had brought Xiao Mo along for their conversation today, Yue Ming felt it would be impolite not to acknowledge him as a guest. So he casually asked: “Daoist friend Xiao—were you ever on the battlefield back then?”

 

Xiao Mo blinked lightly and replied: “No.”

 

Given how many sects and individuals had been swept into the conflict at the time, it wasn’t unusual for someone not to have been directly involved if their cultivation wasn’t strong enough or their sect was too small. Yue Ming nodded understandingly: “Honestly, not seeing it firsthand is probably better. Who wouldn’t prefer peaceful days? Only Fenxiu is crazy enough to stir up trouble.”

 

Yue Ming’s grumbling didn’t elicit any response from Chu Jinglan—something he was used to by now. He simply vented his frustrations as he pleased before getting up to leave after delivering his update on Fenxiu’s escort.

 

As Yue Ming prepared to depart, Chu Jinglan suddenly asked: “Will you attend our Dao companion ceremony?”

 

Yue Ming froze for a moment before exclaiming loudly: “Of course I will! I wouldn’t miss it—I need my share of celebratory wine! Why are you even asking me? Isn’t it obvious?”

 

Then he paused briefly as realization dawned on him. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he muttered: “Wait—are you teasing me on purpose?”

 

Chu Jinglan’s expression remained neutral, and he didn’t seem like someone who would joke around. Yet Yue Ming could sense a newfound ease about him—gone was the oppressive, lifeless aura that used to hang around Xianzun.

 

Moreover, that earlier question—whether Yue Ming would attend the ceremony—was, by Chu Jinglan’s usual standards, completely unnecessary. It was almost out of character.

 

Yue Ming found it curious. Has Xianzun descended from his pedestal?

 

Well, it was a good thing. A good relationship truly seemed to have a positive effect on one’s state of mind.

 

Yue Ming clasped his hands and bowed sincerely to Xiao Mo. “Daoist friend, I’ll leave this guy in your care.”

 

Xiao Mo nodded and replied with a smile: “If you don’t mind, just call me by my name.”

 

Using names felt more personal than addressing each other as “Daoist friend.”

 

“Alright, then you can just call me Yue Ming,” Yue Ming said cheerfully.

 

After Yue Ming left, Chu Jinglan spread out a sheet of paper to begin drafting the guest list for the ceremony.

 

Whether his earlier question had been a lighthearted remark or not, he didn’t clarify. However, his aura was noticeably less cold and distant than before.

 

Xiao Mo took out his music cultivation manual and began channeling spiritual energy while adding his own insights to the text. After cultivating for a while, he closed the book but didn’t rest. Instead, he turned to Chu Jinglan and said: “I’m going back into your sea of consciousness now.”

 

They needed to make the most of their time to restore Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness as quickly as possible.

 

Chu Jinglan nodded in agreement, and Xiao Mo split off a strand of his own spiritual consciousness to enter Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness.

 

This process was also a form of training for Xiao Mo’s own spiritual consciousness.

 

The entrance to the depths of Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness was marked by the night-blooming cereus. Xiao Mo touched its petals gently before sinking into the sea of consciousness.

 

Over the next few days, as long as Chu Jinglan’s emotional state remained stable, Xiao Mo worked diligently. One by one, he encountered fragments of Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness. Each time was like meeting Chu Jinglan anew, and through these fragments, Xiao Mo witnessed how Chu Jinglan had changed over those lonely years.

 

It was painfully clear how Chu Jinglan’s suffering had deepened over time. Outwardly, his sharpness had grown more piercing and ruthless. Xiao Mo carefully retrieved each fragment and returned it to Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness.

 

On the third day, Xiao Mo encountered a fragment from the battlefield during the human-demon war.

 

Chu Jinglan had advanced from Divided Spirit stage to Great Perfection stage in the midst of battle—triggering a lightning tribulation right there on the battlefield.

 

When the scene appeared, Xiao Mo found himself at the edge of the battlefield. Opening his eyes, he immediately saw a human cultivator perish alongside a demon in mutual destruction. All around him were clashes of spiritual energy and magical artifacts—the sounds of flesh tearing and bones shattering filled the air incessantly.

 

This was but one corner of the brutal human-demon war.

 

Xiao Mo knew Chu Jinglan must be nearby. As always, he appeared in spirit form when entering these fragments. He quickly moved through the battlefield to find Chu Jinglan.

 

On his way, he overheard a demon cultivator shouting loudly: “Chu Jinglan is advancing! This is our chance—we must ensure he perishes under the lightning tribulation!”

 

Xiao Mo’s gaze turned icy as he glanced at the demon cultivator with cold disdain. Though this demon cultivator was already targeting someone who had fallen in battle, Xiao Mo decided to follow this group of demons and demon cultivators to reach Chu Jinglan faster.

 

 

When Xiao Mo arrived at Chu Jinglan’s location, he saw ominous black clouds gathering overhead—a sign of impending tribulation. There were also human cultivators nearby offering their support: “Senior Brother! We’ll protect you!”

 

Chu Jinglan stood with his sword raised high; it was impossible to tell how many enemies he had already slain. The air around him was still thick with lingering sword energy. A blood-red sword strike infused with icy frost shot out from him and pierced through one of the demon cultivators following Xiao Mo—the same one who had been shouting earlier. The demon cultivator died instantly without even having time to act.

 

Good riddance.

 

 

Having found Chu Jinglan, Xiao Mo distanced himself from the group of demon cultivators and demons.

 

He passed directly through the bodies of those around him, intangible in his spirit form. Finally, Chu Jinglan glanced at him—just once.

 

But it was only a single glance.

 

Chu Jinglan’s fingers brushed across the blade of his Daybreak sword. His voice, as cold and sharp as the blood-stained blade itself, rang out: “Anyone who steps forward—dies.”

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter