PID Chapter 32

Kofi thanks to Choco!! (,,>﹏<,,)

(1/5)

---

Xiao Mo’s ears were greeted by the sound of points increasing with a cheerful “ding.”

 

[Ding! Mental attack successful, points +10!]

 

Xiao Mo nodded to himself: It seemed that even if Chu Jinglan didn’t say it out loud, he was still somewhat affected by Xiao Mo’s ability to control demonic beasts.

 

About two seconds later, another notification sounded.

 

[Ding! Mental attack successful, points +20!]

 

Xiao Mo: Huh?

 

What’s going on? Was the impact so strong that it came in two waves?

 

What he didn’t expect was that it wasn’t over yet.

 

[Ding! Mental attack successful, points +100!]

 

Xiao Mo: !!

 

It broke the record for the highest single-point increase so far!

 

Xiao Mo was so startled that he almost lost control of Chu Jinglan’s body. His footing faltered slightly, but he quickly steadied himself.

 

Chu Jinglan: “Hmm?”

 

Xiao Mo: You’re still going “Hmm”?

 

Wait a second—arguing earlier didn’t earn this many points, but a single beast-controlling technique caused such a huge emotional fluctuation for you, Young Master?

 

…Your emotional triggers are so strange.

 

Xiao Mo: “…It’s nothing.”

 

After saying that, he realized his response sounded oddly similar to how Chu Jinglan had replied earlier.

 

Unable to resist, he glanced toward Chu Jinglan’s consciousness.

 

When controlling the body, their divine senses didn’t reside in the sea of consciousness but in the inner palace. In the sea of consciousness, they appeared humanoid, but in the inner palace, their divine senses took the form of glowing spheres.

 

Chu Jinglan was a sphere emitting cold white light, resembling the mist rising from extreme frost—just looking at it gave off an icy chill. Xiao Mo remained a small black mist sphere, identical to his external appearance.

 

The two spheres were very close, separated only by a thin gap. From an omniscient perspective, they looked like they were practically touching.

 

In this state, “looking” at consciousness was essentially the black mist sphere simulating vision, imprinting the snowy sphere’s presence into its perception.

 

The snowy sphere was steady and unruffled—completely calm. If not for the cheerful sound of points increasing in the background, one might actually believe Chu Jinglan was as outwardly composed as he seemed—a piece of millennia-old ice.

 

The contrast was striking. Xiao Mo suddenly wondered: If I listened to Chu Jinglan’s inner thoughts right now, what would I hear?

 

Could it be that after spending so much time with me, he’s also learned how to silently complain in his heart?

 

Xiao Mo curved his lips into a smile: That would be so amusing.

 

But thoughts were just thoughts. Xiao Mo didn’t actually press any buttons to listen to Chu Jinglan’s inner voice—casually eavesdropping on a partner’s private thoughts would be far too disrespectful.

 

Meanwhile, the drooping-eyed white tiger led the way ahead and soon encountered another demonic beast. Without Xiao Mo needing to intervene, the tiger charged forward and began fighting it.

 

The opponent was a leopard with an agile and athletic build.

 

Xiao Mo didn’t bother controlling the leopard this time. Instead, he continuously fed commands to the white tiger, wanting to see how precisely he could manipulate a demonic beast.

 

As it turned out, Xiao Mo’s control over fourth-tier demonic beasts was exceptionally stable. Even when large chunks of flesh were bitten off its body, the white tiger continued executing Xiao Mo’s commands without showing any signs of regaining its own consciousness.

 

Xiao Mo grew increasingly adept at using his heart method—the more experience he gained, the more effortless it became.

 

Eventually, both the tiger and leopard fought each other to exhaustion and collapsed on the ground motionless.

 

Once their battle ended, Xiao Mo used black mist to tear through their flesh and extracted two beast cores.

 

Twenty mid-grade spirit stones earned.

 

After collecting the cores, Xiao Mo stared at the glossy fur of both beasts. He picked an area untouched by blood and ran his hand over it—it felt soft and comfortable. Frugal as always, Xiao Mo couldn’t help but wonder aloud: “Can demonic beast fur and meat be sold for money?”

 

Chu Jinglan replied: “It can. But fourth-tier beast meat isn’t worth much—it’s too little to fetch a good price. And if there’s too much… how do you plan to carry it?”

 

Xiao Mo’s backpack had limited functionality—each slot could only hold identical items. Since tigers and leopards weren’t the same species, simply carrying their corpses would take up two slots.

 

At this moment, the system chimed in with a faint tone: “Host, I must remind you that your current backpack doesn’t have a preservation function. If you put blood-covered demonic beast corpses inside, they may rot—and when you take them out later, there’s a chance you’ll get splattered with foul-smelling blood.”

 

Xiao Mo froze mid-stroke as he patted the fur.

 

So far, Xiao Mo had only stored dry goods in his backpack. Even liquids like potions were kept in bottles. He couldn’t help but ask the system a soul-searching question: “If I put a cup of tea in there, would it spill all over my hand when I take it out?”

 

System: “Depending on how you retrieve it, that’s entirely possible.”

 

Xiao Mo: “…”

 

No wonder there wasn’t a rating system for the backpack—it must be because they couldn’t handle all the negative reviews.

 

Standing up and dusting off his clothes, Xiao Mo said to Chu Jinglan, “There’s no space to store it. Let’s move on.”

 

Chu Jinglan had been about to suggest squeezing the corpses into the storage device—there was probably room for two or three more—but seeing how decisively Xiao Mo walked away, as if afraid the blood might stain his sleeves, he closed his mouth and said nothing further.

 

In the third layer, fourth-tier demonic beasts weren’t as densely packed as the lower-tier beasts in the first layer. After all, they were higher-level creatures. Two days later, Xiao Mo’s hunting tally had reached thirty—a remarkable achievement.

 

Three hundred mid-grade spirit stones! Suddenly, he’d gone from being a poor kid to relatively wealthy.

 

Chu Jinglan had taken fasting pills, but this body could no longer endure prolonged activity without rest like before. After staying up all night on the first day, he couldn’t hold out any longer without rest. Xiao Mo found a quiet spot and told Chu Jinglan to take a break.

 

Xiao Mo floated beside Chu Jinglan, offering to stand guard while he rested.

 

As soon as Xiao Mo released his possession, Chu Jinglan felt his body grow heavy again. The once-empowered Dao body reverted to its weakened state—a broken vessel weighed down by illness. He raised a hand to steady himself against a nearby tree, clenching his fist tightly as he endured the discomfort.

 

Xiao Mo instinctively raised his hand to support him but hesitated when he saw Chu Jinglan’s clenched fist. Quietly, he lowered his hand again.

 

Someone as proud as Chu Jinglan wouldn’t want to show his vulnerability to others—even though Xiao Mo had already seen him at his lowest point.

 

Xiao Mo rubbed his flute thoughtfully and asked, “Are you pushing yourself too hard?”

 

Chu Jinglan shook his head, releasing his grip on the tree and straightening up: “It’s nothing.”

 

Xiao Mo said seriously: “I can’t feel your body’s condition, so if something’s wrong, you need to tell me. Don’t keep it bottled up.”

 

Even though Xiao Mo controlled the body’s movements, only Chu Jinglan could feel its condition—whether it was fatigue or pain. He had to monitor himself and speak up if there were issues.

 

Unless Chu Jinglan’s divine sense fell into deep sleep or Xiao Mo completely suppressed him with his Inner Demon consciousness, Xiao Mo wouldn’t be able to fully take over all sensory input.

 

Chu Jinglan simply replied indifferently: “Mm.”

 

Xiao Mo used a cleaning spell to clear a patch of ground. Chu Jinglan sat cross-legged in a meditative posture to rest while Xiao Mo perched on a tree branch above him, keeping watch over their surroundings.

 

Standing guard wasn’t tiring—it was an opportunity to train one’s divine sense while skimming through heart methods. Xiao Mo rhythmically tapped his flute against his palm as he casually read through cultivation techniques. Time passed quietly in this tranquil environment.

 

After about three hours, Xiao Mo suddenly looked up from his heart method panel and frowned toward a distant spot: Someone is approaching.

 

It wasn’t strange to encounter other cultivators here—the key issue was that the aura carried by the wind felt off.

 

Xiao Mo immediately descended from the tree and seamlessly merged into Chu Jinglan’s body: “Chu Jinglan, wake up.”

 

In the next instant, Chu Jinglan’s body opened its eyes, but the gaze belonged to Xiao Mo.

 

Initially, when they shared control of the body, it was clumsy and awkward. But now, in just a short span of time, they had become proficient. Ten days ago, waking Chu Jinglan and taking over his body would have taken Xiao Mo about a minute.

 

Now, the transition was instantaneous, minimizing risks during critical moments caused by delays in switching control.

 

Chu Jinglan’s consciousness yielded without hesitation. Xiao Mo felt that Chu Jinglan truly regarded him as a partner, offering him the trust and cooperation he deserved.

 

Xiao Mo controlled Chu Jinglan’s body to fly back onto the tree. Surrounding them, a circle of black mist rose to conceal their aura and presence. Only then did Chu Jinglan speak from within the sea of consciousness: “What is it?”

 

“Someone’s coming—the aura feels wrong.”

 

Hidden in the tree, Xiao Mo watched as a masked figure in gray robes rapidly approached. If Chu Jinglan’s previous iron mask had been intimidating and fierce, then this gray-robed man’s mask was downright hideous—so ugly it was almost offensive.

 

Looking closer, Xiao Mo saw that the gray-robed man held one person in each hand.

 

Both were familiar faces to Xiao Mo.

 

In his left hand was Su Baimo; in his right hand was Zi Jiao.

 

Why is Su Baimo involved here again?

 

Xiao Mo’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious: “…Demonic cultivator.”

 

It had to be said—the gray-robed man’s aura was well-disguised, likely using some kind of artifact or pill. But for an Inner Demon like Xiao Mo, such disguises were useless.

 

Demonic cultivators were people with deeply entrenched desires. The scent they emitted was far too distinct for an Inner Demon to miss—so distinct that when Xiao Mo first encountered it, he instinctively knew without being taught that this person was a demonic cultivator.

 

A demonic cultivator has infiltrated this place—a rough job meant for Immortal Alliance workers. What is he trying to do?

 

Su Baimo and Zi Jiao seemed to have been silenced with a restriction spell. Their faces alternated between red and pale as their lips struggled tightly but no sound came out. Their limbs hung limp and powerless—they couldn’t move or resist.

 

The gray-robed demonic cultivator stopped walking. A small mouse on his shoulder poked its head out and squeaked toward the front.

 

The demonic cultivator muttered to himself: “Hmm? The treasure’s over there. Alright.”

 

Chu Jinglan commented: “It’s a treasure-seeking mouse—likely his contracted demonic beast. They can communicate through their contract.”

 

Xiao Mo zeroed in on the key detail: “A treasure?”

 

He immediately opened a private chat with the system: “System, I feel his aura vaguely surpasses mine. Scan him—what’s his cultivation level?”

 

The system completed its scan in fractions of a second: “Nascent Soul mid-stage.”

 

Based on Xiao Mo’s question, it calculated his intentions and offered advice: “Host, if you’re considering confronting him, I suggest you give it a try. Inner Demons who’ve cultivated into demonic bodies have a natural advantage against demonic cultivators due to their unstable minds and impure thoughts. Although you don’t currently have a demonic body, your main body willingly cedes control to you—the effect won’t differ much.”

 

With this racial advantage, minor differences in cultivation levels could be completely offset—fighting across levels wouldn’t be an issue.

 

Below them, Zi Jiao managed to let out a faint groan from his throat. The gray-robed demonic cultivator turned his head and let out an eerie laugh from beneath his mask: “Boy, you don’t need to be afraid—it’s an honor for you to be useful to me.”

 

Effortlessly holding both individuals as if they weighed nothing, he even jiggled them slightly as though testing their weight: “Soon enough—one for blood sacrifice, one for meat. Not bad at all.”

 

Su Baimo and Zi Jiao instantly turned pale, but the demonic cultivator didn’t even give them a chance to beg for mercy. As soon as his words fell, a sour stench quickly filled the air.

 

The gray-robed demonic cultivator paused, realizing that Zi Jiao had wet himself out of fear.

 

The arrogance he had displayed when kicking Xiao Mo’s carriage door was now completely gone—he was as timid as a quail.

 

The demonic cultivator seemed to find this amusing, laughing loudly as if he had seen something novel. Instead of being disgusted by the smell, he found it incredibly entertaining and satisfying. Between laughs, he said to Zi Jiao: “You stink now—no choice. You’ll be used for the blood sacrifice later. Don’t worry, it’ll be over in the blink of an eye.”

 

Zi Jiao was instantly plunged into utter despair, while Su Baimo, his body restrained, couldn’t even tremble or show his fear properly. His terror and regret were suppressed to an extreme. He deeply regretted not pleading harder earlier—if he had pushed a bit more, perhaps Dai Zisheng would have insisted on keeping him safe outside the forest.

 

It’s all that masked man’s fault.

 

He had already left the forest but ran into this gray-robed man. After locking eyes with him for just a moment, Su Baimo’s consciousness wavered. When he came to, he was already captured.

 

Unable to speak or struggle, Su Baimo was consumed by overwhelming fear. Under the demonic cultivator’s eerie laughter, Su Baimo finally couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes rolled back, and he fainted from sheer terror.

 

Compared to someone passing out cold, the gray-robed demonic cultivator clearly preferred Zi Jiao’s reaction. He snorted unhappily: “Fainted already? How boring.”

 

It was clear he had a twisted habit of tormenting his prey.

 

The treasure-seeking mouse squeaked twice more, and the demonic cultivator followed its direction, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

 

“Chu Jinglan,” Xiao Mo said as he stared in the direction where the demonic cultivator disappeared. “He mentioned treasure earlier.”

 

“I heard.” Chu Jinglan understood what Xiao Mo meant. “Can you win?”

 

Xiao Mo didn’t hesitate: “Yes.”

 

Chu Jinglan: “Good.”

 

Their lives were tied together—if Chu Jinglan died, Xiao Mo wouldn’t survive either. As long as Xiao Mo dared to act, Chu Jinglan would support him.

 

They decided to follow and see what treasure the demonic cultivator was after. If it truly turned out to be something valuable, they would take it for themselves.

 

In the cultivation world, survival of the fittest was the norm. Besides, this demonic cultivator practiced techniques that relied on consuming human blood and flesh—killing him would be doing a public service. Taking his treasure wouldn’t weigh on their conscience at all.

 

As for the two people in his hands—Su Baimo and Zi Jiao—did they matter?

 

Not at all.

 

Even seeing Su Baimo captured didn’t stir Chu Jinglan’s cold white sphere of consciousness in the slightest.

 

Xiao Mo moved like a shadow, concealed by black mist as he flew after the demonic cultivator.

 

 

---

 

1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter