PID Chapter 116

(5/5) Extra Update ~
(,,¬﹏¬,,)

 

---

Chu Jinglan’s twisted state of mind had solidified into obsession—a single-minded determination that had carried him through the tribulation lightning. While the hundred-year-old Chu Jinglan wasn’t as dangerous as his two-hundred-year-old self would become later on, he was still extremely perilous at this moment.

 

Bound by the chain pressing against his wrists, Xiao Mo was pulled right in front of Chu Jinglan. Yet despite being so close to him, he wasn’t affected by his killing intent.

 

“Yes, Chu Jinglan—I’ve returned,” Xiao Mo said softly.

 

At those words, something flickered in Chu Jinglan’s eyes.

 

His expression shifted unpredictably—wavering between clarity and turmoil—as the cold aura and bloodthirsty energy around him fluctuated violently. A trace of confusion and struggle flashed through his gaze as he pressed a hand against his forehead in frustration.

 

Seeing this, Xiao Mo quickly raised his hand to touch him—but the chains binding his wrists rattled loudly with the movement. Hearing the sound of the chains seemed to bring a moment of clarity back to Chu Jinglan’s mind.

 

Chu Jinglan looked up at Xiao Mo’s restrained hands and instinctively reached out to unlock them—but his hand froze mid-air.

 

Understanding that he hadn’t fully regained control of hi

 

mself yet, Xiao Mo spoke gently: “It’s fine—leave it like this for now.”

 

Chu Jinglan remained silent as he stared at him intently.

 

 

“I won’t leave anymore. If this makes you feel more at ease, then so be it.”

 

Chu Jinglan’s gaze lingered on the pitch-black chain for a moment before he abruptly raised his hand, wrapping an arm around Xiao Mo’s waist. With Xiao Mo still bound, Chu Jinglan flew off the battlefield, carrying him directly back to the camp.

 

The other cultivators couldn’t see Xiao Mo. All they saw was Chu Jinglan returning with a bundle of chains half-floating in his arms. The sight struck them as odd—his posture seemed strange—but no one thought much of it.

 

The battle at the Great Perfection stage had also ended, and the human cultivators had emerged victorious on this battlefield. Some stayed at the camp to rest and recover, while others went to clean up the battlefield and pursue any remaining enemies. The camp was large, and Chu Jinglan brought Xiao Mo straight to his private quarters.

 

As a senior figure from Yingyue Sect, Chu Jinglan had his own separate residence even on the battlefield. He brought Xiao Mo into the room and set him down by the bed. Then, without a word, he tied the end of the chain to one of the bedposts.

 

After securing everything, Chu Jinglan silently moved to a meditation cushion in the room and began meditating.

 

Having just successfully advanced and been bathed in heavenly blessings, Chu Jinglan should have been in his best state. However, his meditation quickly began to go awry. His spiritual energy grew chaotic, and blood started seeping from the corners of his lips—clear signs of him teetering on the edge of qi deviation.

 

Alarmed, Xiao Mo pressed his lips together and tried to free himself from the chains binding his wrists. The chains were indeed designed to suppress cultivation and were supposed to be difficult to break. Yet, to Xiao Mo’s surprise, they fell away from his wrists with little effort.

 

There was no time for him to dwell on this oddity. Rushing over to Chu Jinglan, he immediately pressed on several key acupuncture points and began transferring spiritual energy into him.

 

Chu Jinglan felt as though needles were stabbing into his mind. It was as if he had overlooked something vital—his chest felt hollow, as though a gaping hole had been torn through it. Cold winds howled through the void, forming a vortex that threatened to tear him apart.

 

Xiao Mo frowned deeply as he formed a hand seal and prepared to press it against Chu Jinglan’s forehead. But before he could make contact, Chu Jinglan’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

 

His gaze burned with dark red bloodlust.

 

Startled, Xiao Mo didn’t have time to pull back before Chu Jinglan grabbed him by the neck and slammed him down forcefully.

 

This time was different from their reunion in reality. Back then, even though Chu Jinglan had held Xiao Mo by the neck, there had been a sliver of clarity in his mind that kept him from using too much force. But now, Chu Jinglan was entirely consumed by madness—he used all his strength.

 

Xiao Mo gasped for air as pain shot through him. Instinctively, he raised a hand to defend himself and grabbed Chu Jinglan’s wrist.

 

Their eyes met.

 

Xiao Mo hesitated for only a moment before releasing his grip. He let go of his natural instinct to resist and slowly lowered his hand from Chu Jinglan’s wrist. Instead, he reached up toward Chu Jinglan’s face.

 

Within this fragment of spiritual consciousness—deep in Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness—the environment was unique. Unlike when he was a inner demon spirit with no color in his form, Xiao Mo now appeared fully alive. His pale neck quickly flushed red where Chu Jinglan’s grip tightened around it, leaving visible marks. Struggling for breath, Xiao Mo managed to rasp out: “Chu… Jinglan…”

 

Hearing his voice, Chu Jinglan—completely devoid of reason at this point—instinctively leaned closer as though trying to hear what Xiao Mo was saying more clearly.

 

As Chu Jinglan leaned closer, Xiao Mo, seemingly helpless, flipped his outstretched hand and pressed the previously prepared hand seal directly onto Chu Jinglan’s forehead.

 

Though he had momentarily withdrawn earlier, the spiritual energy and force he had gathered hadn’t dissipated. Now, with a decisive strike, Xiao Mo shouted loudly: “Chu Jinglan!”

 

Water-blue spiritual energy spread across Chu Jinglan’s forehead. His pupils contracted sharply as he clenched his teeth tightly, letting out a muffled groan of pain. The grip on Xiao Mo’s neck loosened slightly, though his hand still didn’t let go entirely.

 

Xiao Mo watched as the red glow in Chu Jinglan’s eyes began to fade bit by bit. Just as he was about to relax, Chu Jinglan’s gaze focused slightly on his face—but most of his vision remained distant, as though he were wandering somewhere far away. His body and soul seemed disconnected, not fully grounded in the present.

 

Suddenly, Xiao Mo froze.

 

Chu Jinglan was still gripping his neck, staring at him—and then… silently began to cry.

 

The tears fell gently but struck Xiao Mo’s heart like thunderclaps.

 

The force on his neck no longer restrained him. Xiao Mo rose up and pulled Chu Jinglan into an embrace, kissing him deeply.

 

Xiao Mo tasted blood—its metallic tang filling his mouth. Chu Jinglan’s hand slipped from his neck and hung limply at his side, motionless.

 

Xiao Mo kissed away the blood on his lips and the tears at the corners of his eyes. Over and over again, he whispered to Chu Jinglan: “It’s me—I’ve truly returned. Do you hear me?”

 

Chu Jinglan’s fingers twitched slightly at his side.

 

Amid Xiao Mo’s trembling yet persistent voice—filled with effort and emotion—Chu Jinglan’s gaze gradually cleared. Slowly, he raised his hands.

 

And in that moment of clarity, he pulled the person in front of him into a tight embrace.

 

“Xiao Mo… it really is you.”

 

Though it was Chu Jinglan who had locked Xiao Mo up and brought him back from the battlefield, it wasn’t until this moment that he truly regained his senses and embraced him wholeheartedly.

 

“Mm,” Xiao Mo murmured as he buried his face against Chu Jinglan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I came back so late.”

 

He wanted to apologize to every fragment of Chu Jinglan’s spiritual consciousness for leaving them buried in dark graves for so long. No matter how many times he said “I’m sorry,” it would never be enough.

 

So beyond apologies, there had to be love—enough love to make up for everything.

 

Chu Jinglan held Xiao Mo tightly in his arms and shook his head: “It doesn’t matter—you’re back now.”

 

Even though a hundred years had passed, the wait had been worth it. A hundred years—he could endure it. Truly, as long as Xiao Mo returned, that was all that mattered.

 

Just as Chu Jinglan exhaled deeply in relief, his body suddenly stiffened.

 

For a century, he had repeatedly thought about how he would treat Xiao Mo well once he returned—how he would make up for everything tenfold. But recently, whenever thoughts of Xiao Mo surfaced, they were accompanied by fear and dark emotions that unsettled him deeply. It wasn’t quite inner demon territory but felt dangerously close. And just now—when he had completely lost control—

 

He had used chains… and strangled him.

 

Chu Jinglan froze completely.

 

And yet… Xiao Mo had kissed him.

 

Noticing Chu Jinglan’s sudden rigidity, Xiao Mo quickly pulled back from the embrace and asked with concern: “Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

 

Chu Jinglan’s gaze fell on the bruises forming on Xiao Mo’s neck—the marks left by his grip. Panicking slightly, he rummaged through his storage device for healing medicine and raised a hand to apply it to Xiao Mo’s neck.

 

Xiao Mo immediately understood why Chu Jinglan was reacting this way.

 

It wasn’t physical discomfort—it was guilt over what he had just done.

 

Xiao Mo smiled softly and gently held Chu Jinglan’s hand, the one applying medicine to his neck. “It doesn’t hurt—it’ll heal in the blink of an eye. Don’t you have anything to ask me?”

 

Chu Jinglan had many things he wanted to tell Xiao Mo, but when it came to questions, the first one that came out was, predictably: “This time, you won’t leave again?”

 

Even though Xiao Mo had already said it countless times while Chu Jinglan was in a dazed state, he still needed to ask.

 

“I won’t leave,” Xiao Mo replied with heartache. No matter how many times Chu Jinglan asked, he would answer the same way. “Don’t you have anything else to ask me?”

 

Chu Jinglan fell silent.

 

Xiao Mo prompted him with a teasing smile: “For example, why I kissed you just now.”

 

Chu Jinglan’s eyes shot up abruptly.

 

He looked as though he wanted to retreat, but Xiao Mo wouldn’t let him. Fixing his gaze on Chu Jinglan’s eyes, Xiao Mo spoke each word clearly and deliberately: “Because I love you, Chu Jinglan.”

 

He saw the storm that erupted in Chu Jinglan’s eyes—the shock and panic that made him lean back slightly.

 

But Xiao Mo was still holding his hand. Though Chu Jinglan had locked him up and brought him back from the battlefield, this time, it was Chu Jinglan who found himself caught.

 

It was a tremendous surprise, but the hundred-year-old Chu Jinglan wasn’t like the twenty-something version of himself who had dared to write love poems for Xiao Mo. After struggling internally for a long moment, he lowered his gaze. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled:

 

“…Xiao Mo, I’m not the Chu Jinglan I used to be.”

 

The Xiao Mo he knew had fallen in love with the person he used to be. But now, Chu Jinglan’s heart had been hollowed out—so much of what made him who he was had slipped away beyond his grasp. He couldn’t return to the person he once was.

 

Surely Xiao Mo loved the old him—not the person he had become.

 

For a century, Chu Jinglan had endured patiently. But now that the miracle he had longed for had suddenly arrived, he realized with startling clarity how much time had passed between them—nearly a hundred years.

 

His heart hadn’t completely turned cold yet, but fear suddenly gripped him tightly. Xiao Mo held onto his hand and asked softly: “Then are you going to let go?”

 

The moment those words left Xiao Mo’s lips, Chu Jinglan instinctively tightened his grip and blurted out: “No!”

 

He froze at his own reaction, but Xiao Mo only laughed.

 

“You said it—don’t let go. Not for a lifetime,” Xiao Mo said with a smile.

 

Leaning closer, he added firmly: “I don’t care if you’re not the Chu Jinglan of the past. As long as you’re Chu Jinglan, then I’m your Xiao Mo. Neither of us will ever let go of each other.”

 

In Xiao Mo’s eyes was unwavering determination and deep affection—so intense that it burned through the hollow void in Chu Jinglan’s heart, filling it with blood and tears. Trembling slightly, Chu Jinglan reached out and cupped Xiao Mo’s face before leaning forward tentatively.

 

Xiao Mo didn’t pull away.

 

Finally closing his eyes, Chu Jinglan kissed him.

 

Even at over a hundred years old, there was still molten lava burning within Chu Jinglan’s heart. The scars left by time hadn’t completely worn him down. As they kissed, Xiao Mo gently cradled fragments of Chu Jinglan’s hundred-year-old spiritual consciousness and returned them to his sea of consciousness.

 

The night-blooming cereus flowers were now more than half in bloom; more red lotuses blossomed in the pool; and in the distance, faint hints of green appeared on the blackened leaves of towering trees. Standing amidst the flowers, Xiao Mo felt both relief and heaviness in his heart.

 

If this pattern continued… he worried about how difficult it would be to retrieve fragments from when Chu Jinglan was around two hundred years old.

 

The cruel passage of time had left countless wounds on Chu Jinglan’s heart—scarring it deeply until it became increasingly fragile and broken beyond recognition.

 

Xiao Mo exhaled slowly and exited Chu Jinglan’s sea of consciousness.

 

His efforts were clearly paying off—Chu Jinglan’s physical and mental state was visibly improving.

 

With the Tianyuan Secret Realm about to open and the escort team for Fenxiu nearing Yaori Sect, it was clear that by the time Fenxiu was executed, Xiao Mo and Chu Jinglan would already be inside the Tianyuan Secret Realm. They wouldn’t be able to witness the scene of humans and demons signing the alliance contract in person.

 

Xiao Mo loved witnessing grand and novel events, but some things always took precedence over his preferences.

 

And Chu Jinglan was at the top of that list.

 

As soon as Xiao Mo returned from the sea of consciousness, he noticed Chu Jinglan silently watching him. Just as Xiao Mo began to feel curious about his gaze, Chu Jinglan leaned in and kissed him.

 

Naturally, Xiao Mo accepted the kiss with delight. But as the kiss deepened, he started to notice something subtly different about it.

 

Blinking in surprise, Xiao Mo pulled back slightly. Chu Jinglan, calm as ever, asked him: “Who’s better?”

 

Xiao Mo was momentarily confused. “What?”

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t answer immediately but continued to look at him for a moment longer.

 

Under his gaze, Xiao Mo gradually realized what he meant. A sudden understanding dawned on him: “…Are you asking about your hundred-year-old self versus your current self?”

 

When retrieving fragments of Chu Jinglan’s twenty-something-year-old consciousness, those moments had been filled with youthful awkwardness—where even a single kiss left him flustered beyond belief. But with fragments from his hundred-year-old self, there was hesitation at first, followed quickly by intense possessiveness and passion.

 

Now that those fragments had returned, Chu Jinglan’s chest still carried those strong emotions from his hundred-year-old self.

 

Since the reintegration of his spiritual consciousness wasn’t yet complete, this mixture of feelings made him unexpectedly subtle and complex.

 

Realizing this, Xiao Mo burst into laughter and leaned against Chu Jinglan’s shoulder.

 

“Oh, come on—you should focus on merging your spiritual consciousness instead of thinking about things like this.”

 

Chu Jinglan squeezed Xiao Mo’s hand lightly, clearly dissatisfied with the answer but still heading to his meditation spot to begin cultivation.

 

Just before entering a meditative state, he heard Xiao Mo’s playful voice float over: “The feelings are different—but I like both.”

 

Chu Jinglan: …

 

Suddenly, he began to feel that letting Xiao Mo retrieve fragments of his two-hundred-year-old spiritual consciousness alone might not be such a good idea after all.

 

---

 

1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter