PID Chapter 19

Chu Jinglan’s voice was raspy, revealing exhaustion and suppressed emotions.

 

His murderous aura was more intense than ever before. Xiao Mo trembled, facing those cold, severe eyes directly.

 

Yet the tiny dinner emon’s hands clung tightly to Chu Jinglan’s fingers.

 

Chu Jinglan’s gaze softened slightly. He slowly opened his palm, and Xiao Mo immediately flew up his arm, settling on his familiar perch on Chu Jinglan’s shoulder.

 

It was as if Xiao Mo, cold for three days, finally felt warmth again. He came back to life, feeling human once more.

 

Taking a soft breath, he felt his dazed, rigid state gradually receding. Gathering his courage, Xiao Mo inched closer to Chu Jinglan’s neck.

 

“Brother J-Jinglan!”

 

Chu Jinglan had moved so quickly that others only now caught up. Su Baimo was panting heavily. Though disheveled, he was clean, without blood stains, but no longer maintaining his usual graceful, willow-like demeanor. The rest who followed were injured to varying degrees, bandaged and reeking of blood and medicine.

 

Though Chu Jinglan was covered in blood, none was his own. He had no wounds, only massive spiritual energy depletion.

 

The group of young people had lost their earlier vigor, each dirty and exhausted.

 

Chu Yusheng’s entire arm was bandaged. Having experienced brutal battles and witnessed many deaths, he knew their survival now depended on Chu Jinglan.

 

Third-tier beasts, which shouldn’t have appeared, were now present in numbers. Chu Yusheng and others needed to team up to kill one, suffering casualties in the process.

 

But Chu Jinglan was different – he could fight alone.

 

In this situation, Chu Yusheng could only follow Chu Jinglan’s arrangements.

 

However, accustomed to arrogance, he unconsciously revealed his nature despite trying to suppress it. He approached with an interrogating tone: “What did you just grab?”

 

Chu Jinglan gave him a cold glare.

 

Chu Yusheng, chilled by that look, involuntarily stepped back: “I-I was just asking…”

 

Many had actually seen Chu Jinglan’s movement earlier. His final palm-opening gesture was notably slow, as if carefully cradling something.

 

But up close, they saw nothing.

 

Wordlessly, Chu Jinglan opened his left hand, revealing a beast core.

 

Chu Wumei[mfn]5th sister Chu[/mfn], still alive, had disheveled her hair in the previous battle. Now, all her hairpins removed, she tied her hair messily and smiled wryly: “Just a beast core. Brother Jinglan, keep it. You earned it.”

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t decline, simply nodding and pocketing the core.

 

Su Baimo was puzzled: Chu Jinglan had grabbed something with his right hand, but now showed them his left.

 

But as no one else commented, he kept his doubts to himself.

 

As long as Chu Jinglan could keep them alive, such minor issues weren’t worth dwelling on now.

 

Chu Jinglan found a relatively quiet spot and had everyone rest. Sitting against a rock wall, he said: “I’ll meditate briefly. Keep watch around us.”

 

People instinctively moved a bit away to avoid disturbing him, but not too far, maintaining a safe distance.

 

Xiao Mo knew Chu Jinglan wasn’t fully meditating. Gripping a bit of Chu Jinglan’s collar near his neck tightly, he asked emotionlessly: “…Were you looking for me?”

 

Chu Jinglan replied softly: “No.”

 

It wasn’t stubbornness – he truly hadn’t been.

 

Upon entering the realm and finding the inner demon gone, Chu Jinglan assumed it had returned to his sea of consciousness, thinking nothing more of it.

 

A host’s sense of their inner demon isn’t as keen as the reverse. Chu Jinglan didn’t immediately realize their connection had been severed.

 

He methodically collected spirit herbs, killed beasts for cores, and regrouped with the Chu and Su family members, leading them.

 

Then third-tier beasts appeared, seemingly heralding the realm’s upheaval.

 

Chu Jinglan led the group through poisonous plants and rampaging beasts. Though the strongest among the disciples, facing the turbulent realm, he was still just one cultivator. One person’s energy and spiritual power weren’t infinite; he couldn’t protect everyone.

 

The disciples suffered heavy casualties.

 

Chu Jinglan’s spirit was also wounded. Finally finding a moment to breathe and recover during constant battles, he attempted to enter his sea of consciousness, hoping to restore his spirit.

 

Only then did he realize the inner demon was gone.

 

Not by his side, nor in his consciousness.

 

The black mist at the edge of “Moon Lake Community” lay dormant. Across the misty wall, there was no beautiful figure holding a flute, ready to banter with him.

 

He was gone.

 

Chu Jinglan emerged from his sea of consciousness in a daze, his spirit somewhat recovered.

 

Had the inner demon truly vanished?

 

For Chu Jinglan, this should have been momentous – a tremendous blessing. No more fear of possession, no worry about the inner demon calamity. He should have been happy, joyous, even celebratory.

 

Yet none of these expected emotions surfaced.

 

Perhaps with life-and-death stakes at hand, the inner demon’s matter wasn’t worth his attention. Whether it was mischief or true disappearance…

 

Chu Jinglan refocused, pushing aside distracting thoughts, telling himself not to dwell on it.

 

But when he saw the familiar tiny figure atop the beast’s head, Chu Jinglan’s body moved faster than his mind, charging forward from afar.

 

Originally, he had planned to lead the group away from that beast, avoiding unnecessary fights.

 

When he caught the inner demon, “Found you” slipped out unconsciously.

 

Chu Jinglan couldn’t explain why. He truly hadn’t been actively searching for the inner demon, but upon grasping it, days of tension and fatigue suddenly eased.

 

Emotions may betray their owner, but they never lie.

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t ask why the inner demon had disappeared. Xiao Mo, receiving his answer, found it natural and wasn’t disappointed.

 

After all, he hadn’t sought out Chu Jinglan either. While moving with the beast, he had thought: let fate decide.

 

Meeting Chu Jinglan would be fine; not meeting would be fine too. All up to fate.

 

But when Chu Jinglan held him, his heart clearly came alive.

 

Seeing Chu Jinglan’s eyes, he felt joy.

 

The pond has no intent, yet a breeze stirs ripples.

 

Whether acknowledged or not, happiness had leapt up in that moment. He was glad.

 

Xiao Mo didn’t mention his experiences while separated. He only tugged at Chu Jinglan’s clothes: “Your clothes are dirty.”

 

Chu Jinglan opened his eyes, raised his hand to cast a cleaning spell on himself, washing away the blood and mud.

 

After days of battling, no one had cared about neat attire, conserving spiritual energy. Parts of his hem were blackened with dried blood. Only the inner demon would comment on this now.

 

Su Baimo, observing from a distance, rushed over as soon as Chu Jinglan opened his eyes. He handed Chu Jinglan a bottle of qi-replenishing pills, which Chu Jinglan accepted without protest, being the one who had expended the most energy.

 

Xiao Mo, perched on Chu Jinglan’s shoulder, counted about thirty people in the group, including not just Chu and Su family members, but also Young Master Bian and others.

 

Of the hundred or so youths who entered the secret realm, some had joined Chu Jinglan’s group, others were still fleeing alone, unable to meet up with them, and some had already died silently, their remains unaccounted for.

 

Xiao Mo glanced at the beast Chu Jinglan had slain nearby. Several disciples were skinning and butchering it for food, saving on fasting pills and replenishing some spiritual energy with the beast’s flesh and blood.

 

After giving Chu Jinglan the pills, Su Baimo sat down beside him, looking expectant. “Brother Jinglan, you can get us out of here, right?”

 

Chu Jinglan had always seemed capable of anything, a rock-solid presence to rely on. Su Baimo, having witnessed too much death in the secret realm, sought reassurance from Chu Jinglan, fear constantly gnawing at him. He didn’t want to die, truly didn’t.

 

But this time, Chu Jinglan replied, “I don’t know.”

 

“What…” Su Baimo panicked, reaching tremblingly for Chu Jinglan’s arm. “Don’t say that, Brother Jinglan. I’m scared, I’m so scared!”

 

He burst into tears. Chu Jinglan gently avoided his grasp, causing Su Baimo to fall helplessly to the ground. Young Master Bian quickly came to comfort him, and Su Baimo cried against his shoulder.

 

Chu Jinglan watched Su Baimo’s tear-stained face impassively, showing neither annoyance nor pity.

 

“Su Baimo,” Chu Jinglan stood up, sword in hand. “Before relying on others, you must first learn to stand on your own.”

 

Su Baimo didn’t understand. His crying, initially from fear, now turned to self-pity: I’m scared, I can’t help my low cultivation, I want to be saved, to be with everyone, to be protected – what’s wrong with that?

 

As Chu Jinglan walked past them, Xiao Mo looked down from his shoulder, catching Su Baimo’s resentful, sorrowful gaze.

 

Su Baimo was still a child, but no longer a toddler. He didn’t understand Chu Jinglan’s words now, and likely never would. Su Baimo and Chu Jinglan were destined for different paths.

 

The more time Xiao Mo spent among them, the less he understood how Chu Jinglan could eventually sacrifice his life for Su Baimo.

 

Su Baimo, nestled in Young Master Bian’s arms, instinctively reached for Chu Jinglan as he walked away. But Chu Jinglan’s robes fluttered just out of reach.

 

Almost, but not quite. Failing to grasp is still failing.

 

Su Baimo stared at his empty fingers, feeling Young Master Bian’s warmth on his other arm. He was afraid, desperate to hold onto something. If even Chu Jinglan couldn’t protect him completely, if Chu Jinglan alone wasn’t enough… perhaps grasping onto more people would eventually be enough?

 

Something stirred in Su Baimo’s consciousness, as if he’d grasped an epiphany.

 

Chu Jinglan approached the disciples preparing the beast meat. He took a piece – half raw, half charred, utterly flavorless without seasoning.

 

Even the usually food-loving inner demon showed no interest.

 

Xiao Mo: “It looks unappetizing.”

 

Chu Jinglan ate it without changing expression: “We’ll have good food once we’re out.”

 

The disciples, miserably gnawing on meat nearby, thought Chu Jinglan was addressing them and began comforting each other.

 

“Yes, yes, we’ll have good food once we’re out.”

“Mm-hmm, I’ll treat everyone to a feast then!”

 

After resting, Chu Jinglan led the way: “Let’s continue. We need to reach the third layer quickly.”

 

The Mushan Secret Realm had existed in Mu City for many years, explored by generations. Families possessed maps. The third layer contained a core area with a meters-high spirit crystal. When spiritual energy began flowing through the crystal, it signaled the realm’s opening, and those nearby would be transported out first.

 

Some disciples who had gathered enough treasures would often camp in the core area, waiting for the exit to open.

 

But this time, reaching the third layer proved extremely difficult for Chu Jinglan’s group.

 

On the afternoon of the third day, they encountered three lone disciples. Before anyone could rejoice, they were attacked by two third-tier beasts.

 

One beast targeted Chu Jinglan, lunging from a corner, while the other ambushed the group, instantly killing two severely injured disciples.

 

As the beast lunged at Chu Jinglan, its bloody maw open wide, its killing intent differed from Chu Jinglan’s sword intent. Though both exuded murderous aura, the beast’s pressure carried a bloodthirsty brutality.

 

It pounced so quickly that even without a physical body, Xiao Mo felt his scalp tingle, as if already seeing claws tearing flesh.

 

It wasn’t just the aura of death, but of cruel pain.

 

Though Chu Jinglan swiftly parried with his sword, he was still forced back two or three steps. Hearing the disciples’ screams, he knew the situation was dire.

 

Xiao Mo looked towards the crowd, eyes widening.

 

For the first time, he saw blood spray violently. A disciple, unable to even scream, had his throat torn out. He died with eyes bulging, face contorted. The cracking of bones accompanied his body’s dismemberment. His severed head rolled on the ground, coming to rest facing Xiao Mo.

 

Xiao Mo met the dead disciple’s unblinking gaze.

 

 

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T/N: 5 extra updates since its my birthday ~ Enjoy reading!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡