PID Chapter 9

When Xiao Mo emerged from the sea of consciousness again, he found that Chu Jinglan wasn’t at the Chu residence but walking along a mountain path instead.

 

It was the road leading to the abandoned wooden cabin.

 

Chu Jinglan hadn’t forgotten about Dai Zisheng after all. He was heading there to check on him—unlike how he’d ignored him entirely in the original story.

 

Deep mountains and forests—desolate and uninhabited—the perfect place for… well… not murder or arson but perhaps a heartfelt conversation!

 

Xiao Mo prepared what he wanted to say and spoke in a normal tone: “Chu Jinglan.”

 

But Chu Jinglan acted as if he neither saw nor heard anything. His steps didn’t falter as he continued forward without acknowledging Xiao Mo at all—completely ignoring him.

 

Xiao Mo floated ahead to block his path: “Chu—”

 

Before he could even finish saying his name this time, Chu Jinglan walked straight through his misty form without hesitation—as if passing through empty air—and continued on his way without sparing him a glance.

 

Xiao Mo: “…”

 

Alright, alright, he won’t get angry.

 

The little mist ball suddenly accelerated dramatically, like a mountain racing champion. It bounced and drifted through the air, making an imaginary tire-screeching sound, and braked right in front of Chu Jinglan’s face!

 

It stopped just two inches from Chu Jinglan’s nose, calculated with incredible precision.

 

Chu Jinglan halted abruptly, nearly slamming his face into it.

 

Xiao Mo had successfully forced his target to stop. His guess was correct: Chu Jinglan could accept the mist passing through his body, but refused to let it touch his face. Perhaps it was because the inner demon’s face resembled his own too closely, causing some kind of psychological shadow.

 

Chu Jinglan stared coldly at the mist blocking his path, still silent and aloof.

 

His icy gaze today had a subtle difference from usual. While still clearly defined, it now held a hidden scrutiny.

 

Xiao Mo cleared his throat: “I have something serious I want to discuss with you.”

 

Fearing Chu Jinglan might simply walk away without listening, Xiao Mo got straight to the point: “I really don’t want to be an inner demon, but I can’t control what I am. I have no choice, and I need to cultivate too.”

 

“Your sea of consciousness is too cold, with no sunlight,” Xiao Mo said softly. “I don’t want to stay in such a frigid place all the time.”

 

“I can only come out here to breathe some fresh air.”

 

Chu Jinglan’s dark eyes flickered slightly, but his expression remained almost unchanged. He still didn’t speak.

 

“You’ve read so many books, so you must know I can’t stray too far from you. I’m not deliberately torturing you with my flute playing. It sounds so awful, I don’t want anyone else to hear it either.”

 

Chu Jinglan thought expressionlessly, *So he knows it sounds terrible.*

 

Xiao Mo said sincerely: “I’ll try not to anger you as much in the future. If you can tolerate my awful flute playing, we could coexist peacefully without interfering with each other. How about that?”

 

An inner demon suggesting peaceful coexistence with its host? This was probably the worst lie Chu Jinglan had ever heard.

 

Chu Jinglan’s voice was low as he finally spoke: “Do you think I would believe you?”

 

“You want me to lower my guard so you can possess me later? I’m not foolish enough to trust an inner demon who is born to lie.”

 

Although Chu Jinglan’s words were extremely cold, the fact that he was willing to speak at all meant there was still room for communication. Xiao Mo felt relieved—at least they could still talk!

 

Xiao Mo’s tone lightened considerably: “I know you won’t believe me easily, but I’ve realized that whether you believe me or not is separate from how I choose to act.”

 

If he continued fully embracing the inner demon role, he’d only be making things difficult for himself. Xiao Mo’s nature was to avoid complicating matters. Whether in dealing with important issues or interpersonal relationships, following his true self and keeping things simple was best.

 

“Look,” Xiao Mo offered concrete evidence, “If I wanted to make you fall into qi deviation, why wouldn’t I play the flute when you’re cultivating?”

 

This was the truth, and also something Chu Jinglan couldn’t understand. The inner demon could have tormented him more, but chose not to.

 

According to records, most inner demons defeated their hosts through temptation, desire, despair, or anger. But this inner demon, since its appearance, had only engaged in pointless verbal sparring. The worst thing it had done was assault Chu Jinglan’s ears with its flute playing.

 

Although many things didn’t make sense, it would take more than this to shake Chu Jinglan’s resolve.

 

After all, those who failed to overcome their inner demon tribulations either died horribly in madness or were possessed and turned into demons. None had a good ending.

 

With so many cautionary tales, cultivators had paid in blood to warn future generations about the terrors of inner demons. If Chu Jinglan lowered his guard so easily, he wouldn’t be Chu Jinglan.

 

But Xiao Mo had said what he wanted to say, and felt a great burden lift from his shoulders. He finally felt a bit of reality in this cultivation world. Even the sunlight seemed brighter, and he felt refreshed in body and mind.

 

Chu Jinglan’s wariness towards him and Xiao Mo being true to himself weren’t mutually exclusive.

 

Even if Chu Jinglan continued to dislike him, Xiao Mo didn’t mind. It couldn’t be helped—his identity as an inner demon naturally invited caution and dislike.

 

Besides, he was destined to die by Chu Jinglan’s hand. Even with deep hatred, death would be the ultimate end. They would eventually part ways, and everything would become like past smoke and clouds, settling all debts.

 

Xiao Mo felt as if dark clouds had parted to reveal the moon, leaving the sky clear and bright. His entire mist form felt light and carefree as he spun around twice: “Now that I’ve figured things out, I feel so much lighter.”

 

Chu Jinglan: …He hadn’t figured anything out and felt very heavy.

 

“Oh, right. That apology earlier—I meant it sincerely,” Xiao Mo said solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

 

A flicker of complexity passed through Chu Jinglan’s expression, quick and subtle. He fell into a calm silence, the icy aura around him lessening somewhat. No one knew what he was thinking at that moment.

 

Having finished their talk, with such nice weather and the beautiful scenery of gurgling streams in the mountains, the moment seemed perfect for playing a tune.

 

Xiao Mo wrapped the flute in his black mist: “To celebrate this moment, I’ve decided to perform a piece.”

 

Chu Jinglan: “…”

 

He pressed his brow, trying hard to recall if he had wavered even for a moment because of the inner demon’s words. If he had, he wanted to go back in time and punch his past self to wake up.

 

Just based on the inner demon’s earth-shattering, ghost-wailing flute playing that only tormented him, he couldn’t trust this inner demon’s tricks!

 

Xiao Mo prepared the flute: “I just mentioned playing the flute. I’m not going back on my word.”

 

Chu Jinglan, a normally dignified and proper young master, had learned many new linguistic arts from Xiao Mo these days. He spoke without emotion: “Should I thank you for at least warning me this time?”

 

Xiao Mo replied cheerfully: “Oh, no need to be polite.”

 

Chu Jinglan: ……

 

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

 

The inner demon Xiao wrapped around the flute and began to play with a cacophony of discordant sounds.

 

The mountains were beautiful, with bird songs and fragrant flowers, but Chu Jinglan couldn’t hear the birds or smell the flowers. The wind carried only mournful wails. As he walked along the mountain path, his ears were filled with heart-wrenching flute sounds that ruined the beautiful scenery beyond recognition.

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t know that the flute sounds were accompanied by electronic notification chimes.

 

[Mental attack successful, +5 points!]

[…attack successful, +6 points!]

 

After countless deep breaths, Chu Jinglan finally couldn’t bear it anymore: “That’s not how you play the flute!”

 

The roaring flute sound stopped, and Xiao Mo humbly asked: “How should it be played?”

 

Chu Jinglan immediately regretted his words. How could he possibly teach the inner demon? So he closed his mouth and said nothing more.

 

When Xiao Mo didn’t get a response, he didn’t get angry. He cleared his throat: “I’ll continue playing then.”

 

Chu Jinglan: “…Wait!”

 

Chu Jinglan blurted out, stopping him. Thinking carefully, he realized he couldn’t prevent the inner demon from cultivating, but he could at least try to save his own ears. After much internal struggle between his pride and caution, Chu Jinglan finally convinced himself and spoke reluctantly: “…First, stabilize your breath.”

 

Xiao Mo listened attentively: “Mm-hmm.”

 

Chu Jinglan felt like he was punching cotton, everything felt off. After a while, he continued with difficulty: “Lower your qi to the dantian—”

 

At this point, Chu Jinglan’s voice stopped.

 

Xiao Mo was still waiting earnestly for him to continue.

 

Chu Jinglan looked at the black mist ball and, for the first time without negative emotions, asked: “…Do you have a dantian?”

 

Meanwhile, the system, which had been offline for a long time, reactivated its audio input function.

 

The host’s flute playing was truly awful—no, terrifying. Even as a system, it had its program health to consider. It came back online and reopened its audio input because the point notifications were frantically flooding the screen.

 

As an advanced AI with a well-developed emotion module, the system had its own curiosity and couldn’t resist seeing what the host was up to now.

 

Then it saw Chu Jinglan teaching Xiao Mo how to play the flute.

 

System: …Shocking, seeing the inner demon and host getting along harmoniously.

System: Uncertain, need to observe more.

 

Soon, it realized it wasn’t a program malfunction—Chu Jinglan was really teaching.

 

System: !??

 

It had only been offline for a short while, why did it feel like it had missed a billion years of development!?

 

Xiao Mo was answering Chu Jinglan: “Despite my current form, I can still simulate a dantian. Lower the qi to the dantian, and then what?”

 

Chu Jinglan: “Imagine the feeling of a mountain spring bursting forth, rushing through a riverbed. Follow that sensation.”

 

System: Who could understand such an abstract explanation?

 

It’s just like when someone asks a top student a question, and the top student replies: “First do this, then do that, understand?”

 

The system was very confident in its judgment: If this could be considered good teaching, I’ll eat my own program on the spot!

 

Then it heard Xiao Mo say: “Hmm, I think I understand.”

 

System: ?

 

Huh?

 

Wait, you understood just like that? What did you understand?!

 

Then it saw Xiao Mo’s mist form adjust its density, ensuring it still wrapped around the flute while slightly condensing. It looked like it was preparing to exert force. Suddenly, the mist puffed outward, and a clear flute sound rang out!

 

Although still off-key, it was now full-bodied and no longer sounded like a dying cat. While still unpleasant, it had progressed from sounding like a soul-summoning wail to merely murderous.

 

After all, to summon souls, you first need to kill then mourn at the grave. Just killing is indeed progress.

 

System: …

 

This actually worked!?

 

Oh right, it almost forgot that Xiao Mo was also a genius when it came to learning. Could this be how geniuses communicate through thought?

 

The system was greatly shocked and learned something new.

 

Dazed, it pulled out a segment of discarded program code to use as a cookie and crunched it down.

 

It’s a good thing it hadn’t thrown away all its discarded program bits. This shows that one shouldn’t make careless bets, not even systems.

 

Xiao Mo was very pleased after playing this note: “I did it!”

 

No, Chu Jinglan thought, there’s still a long way to go before “doing it,” but at least there was a glimmer of hope—hope of escaping the torment of demonic sounds soon.

 

The system finished eating its program and quickly spoke up: “Host, did I miss some major event?!”

 

Xiao Mo was in a very good mood: “Hmm? No, I just figured some things out.”

 

He wrapped around the flute eagerly: “I’ll continue playing!”

 

Human development and change are indeed rapid. Although Xiao Mo’s flute playing was still terribly unpleasant, the system really didn’t want to miss anything else. So it no longer muted its audio input and diligently followed the host, enduring the noise.

 

The small hope that had just risen in Chu Jinglan’s heart was ground away by the miserable flute sounds along the way.

 

He once again realized his own naivety.

 

…The day he would escape this suffering was truly a long, long way off.

 

Author’s Note:

 

Xiao Mo: I’ve figured things out

Chu Jinglan: I can’t figure things out

System: Shocking, feels like I’ve missed a billion years!

 

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