PID Chapter 97

(4/5)

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At the foot of Canggui Mountain, the weather was bright and clear, but Xiao Mo’s gaze was anything but—it was filled with confusion. The old Heaven’s Will is gone, just like that?

 

The system chimed in: “It’s a good thing overall! The old Heaven’s Will was the biggest problem. Perhaps the new Heaven’s Will has finally gathered enough strength. The hardships you endured before have finally borne sweet fruit!”

 

But Xiao Mo’s furrowed brows didn’t relax. “Then why now? Why today? It’s too coincidental.”

 

And it happened right after he returned to the cultivation world.

 

It was indeed a coincidence, but it couldn’t be ruled out as mere chance. Even the system couldn’t provide an answer to this—it could only handle task completion.

 

“Host, you can now claim your final reward and stay in this world permanently.”

 

Xiao Mo was habitually fiddling with the flute at his waist, deep in thought. Upon hearing this, he paused.

 

“You don’t seem happy?”

 

“I’m glad the mission is complete, of course,” Xiao Mo replied. “But the final result came without me witnessing it firsthand—it feels too sudden. Instead of joy, my instincts lean toward suspicion. You know my nature.” He exhaled slowly and added, “Still, being able to stay here—I’m definitely pleased.”

 

The system continued: “Then let me confirm with you—your mission reward will follow the wish you previously recorded without any changes. Is that correct?”

 

Xiao Mo looked at the bustling street filled with people coming and going and answered firmly: “No changes.”

 

“Understood. Now let’s go over the details of your reward.”

 

“To fully integrate into the cultivation world as a real person, you’ll need to follow its laws. You can choose to be born into a sect or noble family—living a life of wealth and privilege with strong familial ties.”

 

“Or you can enter society with your current body and identity. Which will it be?”

 

“The latter,” Xiao Mo said, tapping his palm lightly with his flute. “Spare me from starting over as a baby.”

 

He had once envied others for their good family ties, but now he had found a place he wanted to return to—a place where someone important to him existed. That was home; there was no need to envy anyone else.

 

“Understood. Then your identity will be that of an orphaned rogue cultivator.” The system wasn’t surprised by Xiao Mo’s choice. “You’ll keep all the treasures you’ve redeemed, including those spirit stones—they won’t disrupt the balance of the cultivation world.”

 

Though he wouldn’t have a prestigious or influential status, Xiao Mo would still be incredibly wealthy: one billion high-grade spirit stones, 1.5 billion mid-grade spirit stones, two billion low-grade spirit stones, plus heaven-tier artifacts and ninth-grade spiritual medicines. What other rogue cultivator with no backing could boast such riches?

 

After struggling through two lifetimes, Xiao Mo had finally built up a fortune—he wouldn’t have to enter society penniless.

 

“Your cultivation level will be adjusted to peak Nascent Soul stage.”

 

Xiao Mo frowned slightly: “I can’t keep my current cultivation level?”

 

“To comply with the laws of this world,” the system explained patiently, “your body is only twenty years old. Based on your exceptional talent—comparable to Chu Jinglan—you’re being rewarded with peak Nascent Soul stage at twenty years old. That’s already the limit.”

 

The system added: “Chu Jinglan reached Divided Spirit stage because of your intervention—it was forcibly elevated. Therefore, Divided Spirit cannot be used as a standard benchmark here.”

 

A twenty-year-old at peak Nascent Soul stage—across the entire cultivation world—aside from Chu Jinglan himself, there truly wasn’t anyone comparable. Completing such a high-difficulty mission meant that Xiao Mo’s rewards were nothing short of generous in this vast world.

 

Xiao Mo thought to himself: Alright, this works. Even though my cultivation has been cut down significantly, as long as I still have my talent and potential, I can work hard and cultivate diligently to raise it back up. If Chu Jinglan could start over from scratch after his dantian was destroyed, with such a high starting point now, there’s no reason I can’t climb back up.

 

The system continued: “Your cultivation techniques will be preserved in their current form… Alright, everything is set. Host, please review the panel and confirm the final results. If there are no issues, you may claim your reward.”

 

The system was always reliable in its work. Still, since this concerned his future life, Xiao Mo carefully reviewed everything to ensure there was nothing left to adjust. Finding no issues, he said softly, “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome. As a colleague who has worked with you, I’ll make sure to preserve all the data of our time together and remember you. Although I’m reluctant to part ways, I wish you a happy life in this world.”

 

The words sounded a bit formal, but the system wasn’t finished yet: “I hope you find a home worth staying in and someone who cares for you as much as you care for them—so you won’t have to wander anymore.”

 

Xiao Mo smiled genuinely, his brows arching gently: “Thank you.”

 

“You carry the seed of a corrector,” the system continued. “We systems can always sense it. If I ever get the chance in the future, I’ll come back to visit you! But from now on, if anything happens, I won’t be able to help anymore. Host, it’ll be up to you—stay strong.”

 

Xiao Mo nodded lightly. “Of course.”

 

He pressed the confirmation button.

 

The moment he did so, Xiao Mo felt something shift within him—a subtle yet profound change. He was no longer an outsider but truly a part of this world now. Despite his cultivation being reduced, he felt no unease in his heart.

 

On the system panel, a small hand appeared and waved goodbye before the screen faded into silence. From now on, there would be no system accompanying Xiao Mo with its chatter.

 

Still, their farewell felt like that of friends—lighthearted with just a hint of wistfulness—a lingering tune rather than bitterness.

 

Xiao Mo lowered his gaze and unfastened the flute at his waist, holding it in his hands as he gently stroked its surface. The heaviest task is suddenly complete—it doesn’t feel entirely real. But does this mean… I can finally focus on my own matters?

 

And those matters were tied to one person.

 

Originally, he had planned to stay away from Chu Jinglan to keep danger from approaching him and only reconnect after completing his mission. Now that the mission was done…

 

As Xiao Mo pondered this thought, his expression suddenly sharpened as he looked toward the sky. A figure shrouded in thick demonic energy tumbled through the air before crashing heavily onto the ground with a loud “boom.”

 

The townsfolk scattered in panic while someone among the crowd exclaimed: “A demonic cultivator!”

 

Since the end of the human-demon war, the Demon Domain had stopped openly recruiting demonic cultivators. As a result, demonic cultivators had become outcasts with no place in the open world—hunted wherever they were found. This particular demonic cultivator was injured and being pursued by someone.

 

Xiao Mo spread out his spiritual consciousness and sensed several cultivators chasing after the demonic cultivator who had fallen into the town.

 

The demonic energy carried a heavy stench of blood—this was someone who practiced blood cultivation, using human blood to enhance their power. Townsfolk were fleeing in panic, while some cultivators took out their artifacts in preparation. However, the demonic cultivator was at Nascent Soul stage, and apart from Xiao Mo, the highest cultivation level in the town was only at Golden Core stage.

 

The demonic cultivator staggered to his feet, his mind already clouded and consumed by a thirst for blood. Breathing heavily, he unleashed a wave of demonic energy around him, sending weaker cultivators flying. Then, driven by instinct, he reached toward the source of the strongest blood aura—Xiao Mo’s direction.

 

But Xiao Mo had already raised his flute to his lips.

 

Though he was no longer a demon and could no longer use the inner demon techniques from the Demonic Melody Manual, he had long since mastered how to harm enemies with sound. This was a perfect opportunity to test how powerful his music techniques were now—and perhaps even refine a new musical combat technique for himself.

 

Focusing his mind and spirit, Xiao Mo prepared to play. But just as the first note was about to escape his flute, a powerful presence rippled through the sky. A clear phoenix cry pierced the air as golden flames descended, engulfing the demonic cultivator five steps away from Xiao Mo. The flames consumed him instantly; he only managed a few incoherent screams before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

 

Xiao Mo stared blankly at the golden flames and slowly lowered his flute.

 

The world didn’t lack golden flames, Xiao Mo knew that—but he couldn’t help lifting his gaze, searching for their source.

 

A tremendous pressure suddenly descended from above, shaking the air so intensely that it buzzed with vibrations. Many people tried to flee, but forget about flying on their swords—they collapsed to the ground with weak legs, unable even to crawl away.

 

Such overwhelming pressure… Who could it be?

 

Yet just as that suffocating force was about to reach Xiao Mo’s head, it abruptly stopped. After trembling violently in place for a moment, it exploded into six-pointed snowflakes that gently drifted down over Xiao Mo’s head.

 

Xiao Mo wasn’t suppressed by the pressure at all. He stood still, neither dodging nor moving an inch. His beautiful eyes remained fixed on the figure descending amidst the falling snow.

 

Silver jade crown. An immortal stepping down from the clouds into the mortal world. Elegance unmatched in all existence.

 

Chu Jinglan walked through the frost and snow step by step until he stood before Xiao Mo.

 

The heavy air seemed to ripple slightly as if breaking free of its stillness. The wind began to stir.

 

Those who had been trembling under the pressure suddenly found their strength returning. Some fled immediately, while others with more courage ducked into nearby houses to secretly observe what was happening.

 

Qiuqiu flapped its wings and returned to Chu Jinglan’s shoulder, tilting its head curiously as it studied this stranger standing before them.

 

Xiao Mo’s lips trembled slightly. He couldn’t form any expression or say a single word.

 

Three steps separated them—three steps and three hundred years.

 

Chu Jinglan moved first.

 

He stepped forward until he was very close to Xiao Mo and raised his hand toward him. “Come home with me.”

 

Xiao Mo instinctively began raising his hand to meet Chu Jinglan’s—but halfway there, he froze in midair.

 

His mind was still haunted by memories of Chu Jinglan struggling desperately against being controlled—trying so hard to wake up. For Xiao Mo, those events felt like they had happened just yesterday. But for Chu Jinglan… three centuries had passed. Realizing this made a wave of nervousness wash over him—an unfamiliar fear of returning home after being away for so long.

 

How should he face Chu Jinglan now? What should he say as his first words?

 

But in Chu Jinglan’s eyes, Xiao Mo’s hesitation carried an entirely different meaning.

 

Chu Jinglan’s pitch-black eyes appeared calm—too calm. Yet beneath that surface lay a raging undercurrent crashing violently against unseen rocks without pause or reprieve.

 

“You don’t want to?”

 

Chu Jinglan’s eyelashes moved ever so slightly as he spoke in a soft, slow voice: “Xiao Mo, where do you plan to leave me and go this time?”

 

His tone was light, calm—devoid of coldness or killing intent. Yet beneath the surface, the undercurrents crashed violently against unseen rocks, threatening to shatter the illusion of tranquility and stir up a storm.

 

Hearing those words, Xiao Mo’s hand moved faster than his thoughts. He grabbed Chu Jinglan’s hand and firmly placed his own in it. “No, I’m not going anywhere! I don’t want to leave!”

 

His heart was in chaos, so much so that he didn’t even notice how strange Chu Jinglan’s words had sounded.

 

It wasn’t until he felt the warmth of their joined hands that Xiao Mo began to regain his composure. Surprised, he looked up and asked, “…Wait, how did you recognize me?”

 

I’m using my original appearance right now!

 

An invisible butterfly flew to Xiao Mo’s forehead and merged into his body. The flow of fortune shifted, blessings were bestowed—it was done.

 

Chu Jinglan watched the butterfly disappear into Xiao Mo before lowering his gaze to their clasped hands. “The flute.”

 

Of course. Xiao Mo had been so sure he wouldn’t run into Chu Jinglan here that he hadn’t even thought to put away the flute.

 

Xiao Mo opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but Chu Jinglan’s eyes remained fixed on their joined hands as he spoke again, slowly and deliberately: “I was passing through this area and sensed demonic energy—so I came to investigate.”

 

Xiao Mo closed his mouth.

 

A cultivator at Return to Void stage could traverse thousands of miles in an instant. Chu Jinglan’s overwhelming presence had appeared suddenly, but perhaps it was because Xiao Mo was now only at Nascent Soul stage that he hadn’t detected Chu Jinglan’s approach. So maybe it really was just a coincidence that Chu Jinglan happened upon him here.

 

But none of that mattered now.

 

Xiao Mo truly didn’t know how to start this conversation.

 

Should he ask how Chu Jinglan had been all these years? Congratulate him on reaching Return to Void? Or simply say… I missed you?

 

Even though their separation felt recent to Xiao Mo, there were already so many things he wanted to say. His heart—now made of flesh and blood—beat like a drum, pounding loudly in his ears. His eyes reddened slightly as he blinked and lowered his gaze, trying not to appear too strange.

 

He thought: Chu Jinglan seems so calm. Perhaps it’s really like those stories where close brothers or friends reunite—joyful but composed.

 

But still, since Chu Jinglan was willing to hold his hand and say they would go home together, Xiao Mo thought he could at least stay by his side again—not just pass him by as a stranger.

 

Yet Chu Jinglan’s hand felt colder than before. Was it because of his ice-aligned spiritual root or because his cultivation had reached its peak?

 

Tentatively, Xiao Mo tightened his grip slightly, holding Chu Jinglan’s hand a little more firmly.

 

Chu Jinglan’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle pause in his gaze.

 

At that moment, the group of cultivators who had been chasing the demonic cultivator finally arrived.

 

Chu Jinglan had already withdrawn his oppressive aura, but when the group of cultivators saw the famed Daybreak Sword at his waist, they were instantly startled. They quickly bowed deeply and greeted him with utmost respect: “Greetings, Xianzun!”

 

The people hiding in nearby houses and eavesdropping nearly gasped aloud.

 

Xianzun!?

 

That Chu… Chu Xianzun!?

 

Chu Jinglan didn’t spare them even a glance.

 

“Forgive us for not knowing of Xianzun’s arrival. Fifty miles away in Baichuan City, Jinxiu Pavilion is hosting a Treasure Banquet. As a distinguished guest of Jinxiu Pavilion, Xianzun would be treated with the highest honor should you choose to attend.”

 

A casual “Leave” was already on the tip of Chu Jinglan’s tongue, but just as he was about to speak, he paused.

 

His gaze finally left their clasped hands and slowly shifted to Xiao Mo’s face.

 

He didn’t want to look away from Xiao Mo’s face—he couldn’t bear it. Yet the more he looked, the louder the noise in his mind became, and the pain in his chest multiplied a hundredfold. His heart was in turmoil, unbearable—but Chu Jinglan endured it.

 

Xiao Mo looked perfect. This face suited him best—his true self. Chu Jinglan’s own features had once overshadowed Xiao Mo’s essence, but now, this was the complete Xiao Mo.

 

The disciples from Jinxiu Pavilion noticed that Chu Xianzun hadn’t outright rejected their invitation. They exchanged glances nervously before continuing: “The banquet features treasures beyond compare, exquisite delicacies, and our family head will be present. There’s also…”

 

Exquisite delicacies?

 

Chu Jinglan thought of the spiritual food he had collected for Xiao Mo.

 

Though he had used the best preservation talismans to ensure none of it could spoil, he had been gathering these items since three hundred years ago. He didn’t know if they still suited Xiao Mo’s taste now—or where Xiao Mo had spent those three centuries—but Xiao Mo always preferred fresh things.

 

Chu Jinglan looked at Xiao Mo and asked: “Do you want to go?”

 

Xiao Mo was overwhelmed with emotions, his mind tangled with countless thoughts and unsure where to begin. He didn’t know whether they should spend time alone first or if going somewhere lively might help ease things. “You decide,” he replied softly.

 

I decide? I can do whatever I want?

 

Chu Jinglan tightened his grip on Xiao Mo’s hand.

 

You want to take him home immediately—to lock him away.

 

Yes, but making preparations first wouldn’t hurt—getting him new things.

 

The banquet at Jinxiu Pavilion will surely be bustling with people. Do you want countless eyes on him?

 

But wouldn’t it be good to let everyone know he belongs to you—right in front of them all?

 

No one knew how many chaotic thoughts flashed through Chu Jinglan’s mind at that moment. All they saw was his final decision: “Alright, we’ll go.”

 

Chu Jinglan held onto Xiao Mo’s hand firmly, with no intention of letting go.

 

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The Treasure Banquet in Baichuan City was a grand event. Wang Yichen, now the head of the Wang family, was present. When he received a voice transmission from one of his disciples about Chu Xianzun’s arrival, he accidentally shattered an invaluable cup in shock.

 

“Who—who did you say!?” Wang Yichen exclaimed.

 

“Chu Xianzun.”

 

Wang Yichen practically leapt out of his chair: “And he brought someone!?”

 

“Yes,” replied the disciple nervously. Now that Chu Jinglan had instructed them to go ahead first, the disciple finally dared send this transmission.

 

Wang Yichen demanded urgently: “What kind of person? Describe them to me in detail!”

 

 

Three hundred years had passed, and aside from the sword puppets surrounding Chu Jinglan, no living person had ever received such treatment—to accompany Chu Xianzun to a banquet.

 

“Peak Nascent Soul stage, unknown age, unparalleled beauty, and… and they’re holding hands with Chu Xianzun,” the disciple reported nervously.

 

Wang Yichen sucked in a sharp breath.

 

Holding hands—actually holding hands!

 

“How good-looking are they?” Wang Yichen asked urgently.

 

The disciple thought for a moment before deciding to use the most straightforward comparison: “On par with Chu Xianzun.”

 

Wang Yichen: …Well, that’s certainly very good-looking.

 

But Wang Yichen couldn’t help feeling wary. “What kind of appearance?”

 

“Strikingly gorgeous, breathtakingly unique.”

 

Wang Yichen paced in place for a moment before raising his hand to summon his attendants. “Come, we’re going to greet Xianzun.”

 

Ever since Chu Jinglan’s Dao companion had passed away, many sects and noble families had sought to exploit the situation for their own benefit. They tried to take the place of his Dao companion by investigating what kind of person they had been and deliberately training individuals to mimic their traits and demeanor. These people were then presented to Chu Jinglan whenever possible.

 

As for their fates? Well, depending on what they tried, their outcomes varied.

 

The one constant was that none of them succeeded—none could get close to him.

 

Now, out of nowhere, someone appeared. Without any prior notice or rumors circulating, this person was not only holding hands with Chu Jinglan but also being taken to a banquet by him.

 

Was this the reopening of a long-closed door—a meeting with someone who could truly heal his heart? Or had Chu Xianzun’s years of lonely cultivation on Du-E Mountain finally driven him mad, allowing some highly-trained imposter to take their place?

 

No—Wang Yichen had to see this for himself immediately!

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter