As morning reached the hour of chen, dazzling sunlight spilled into the room, bringing a warmth quite unlike late autumn.
Pei Zizhuo rolled off the couch, glanced at the empty cabin, and furrowed his brow deeply.
Though he had been deeply trapped within nightmares yesterday, he remembered every single detail clearly.
If Danxiao had harbored improper intentions midway and taken ruthless advantage of his weakness to touch and grope him uninhibitedly, he would have simply accepted it.
After all, the very purpose for which Danxiao had rescued him was precisely that; that was where his own value lay.
Yet last night, Danxiao had stood guard over him every single moment, moving closer right as the cold poison flared up, caring for him with meticulous detail and cautious tenderness, a sincerity that was entirely visible throughout.
There was not a single trace of amusement or playing for sport. It bore no resemblance to how one would treat a favored kept pet; it felt much more like, like a declaration of affection.
Pei Zizhuo was struck with a jolt of embarrassment at the thought, yet he also figured out the crux of the matter. Indeed, given Danxiao’s ability and means, dealing with his current self would be effortless, with no need whatsoever to waste effort on superficial pleasantries.
Then, what was the reason behind this?
Pei Zizhuo had already been expelled from the Mountain-Sea Palace, burdened with the condemnation of the cultivation world, and left with a ruined body. If the goal was to utilize him, there was truly nothing left to exploit.
He pondered for a moment when inspiration suddenly struck, dawning on him with absolute clarity. With rare conviction, he concluded that Danxiao must have fallen in love with him.
No wonder Danxiao always wore a look of heartfelt devotion, blinking those innocent eyes, pretending to be pure, harmless, and completely unthreatening in front of him. What brilliant scheming, what formidable means.
Once he figured this out, Pei Zizhuo felt things had become even more troublesome. Setting aside all background contexts, Danxiao was his great benefactor who had saved his life and reset his bones.
Previously, he could despise Danxiao’s shamelessness, but now his scalp tinged with tightness, a nameless panic rising in his chest as he felt an urge to run away for his life.
Before this humiliating notion could fully take shape, the door creaked open.
With puffed-out cheeks chewing on some delicious morsel, Shen Shu pushed the door open carrying a long tray.
Seeing him awake, Shen Shu beamed and waved him over, calling out, “These are the Huacong dumplings sent over by Xiao Tao. She said they are a Baling specialty. I tasted one, and it really is soft, glutinous, and savory.”
The rich aroma of cured meat rolled in sticky rice wafted through the air. It was a genuine delicacy, but Pei Zizhuo shrank back onto the couch as if facing a formidable enemy, muttering darkly, “I won’t eat.”
Thinking he was still upset about yesterday’s events, Shen Shu specifically picked up the tray, walked right up to the couch, picked up a small piece with his chopsticks, and held it right before Pei Zizhuo’s eyes as he urged, “I’m not tricking you, taste it quickly.”
Pei Zizhuo turned his face away, refusing: “I won’t taste it.”
It was like trying to warm one side of a stone monument with a campfire. Shen Shu bit down on the dumpling himself, deliberately smacking his lips right in front of him, narrowing his eyes in pure comfort to tempt him: “As expected of a Baling specialty, rich, savory, and unbearably delicious.”
Whether it was the enticing aroma or the irritating presence of the person before him, Pei Zizhuo crisply flipped over, continuing to present the back of his head and refusing to accept any bribes.
It seemed he really was furious yesterday. Shen Shu set the bowl and plate down, leaned close to him, and asked, “Are you still angry?”
Seeing no response, he continued on his own: “Then what can I do to make your anger subside? How about you touch me too?”
Pei Zizhuo’s mouth twitched as he struck the edge of the bed in exasperation: “Why on earth would I touch you!”
Suppressing a smile, Shen Shu shared the news he had gathered: “I asked Xiao Tao about the path leading into Mount Chan. Once we subdue that Matchmaking Cult Master, we’ll go look for the Earth Spiritual Spring. Only, the weather has grown warmer these past few days, and I’m not sure if the spring’s eye is still active. If it isn’t, you’ll have to suffer through the torment of the Primordial Yin Pill once more. But don’t be afraid, with me around, at worst we’ll sleep in the same room every day, and we’ll definitely cure these immortal bones of yours.”
Listening to this, Pei Zizhuo felt his scalp prickle. What kind of wonderful delusion was Danxiao entertaining? Sharing a bed with him every day? Hooking him with those eyes every single moment?
Wishful thinking!
For the very first time, Pei Zizhuo acted with such brisk initiative. Slipping off the couch cleanly, he urged, “There’s no need for all that fuss, let’s go. Eliminating the demon comes first.”
Just past noon, a long queue had already formed outside the incense shop north of Baling County. People craned their necks, waiting for the storefront to open so they could purchase joss sticks and red candles to offer to the Matchmaking Cult Master.
It was a pity the shopkeeper was far too lazy, always sleeping until the sun was high in the sky before waking, and furthermore selling incense in limited daily quantities. There were always people who queued the entire day only to walk away empty-handed.
This was not the only incense shop in Baling County, but rumor had it that it had been blessed by the Matchmaking Cult Master’s spells, and that the old man whose wish had first come true had bought his incense right here. That was what made the shop’s reputation skyrocket. Moreover, the townsfolk believed that only by enduring the scorching sun and waiting painstakingly could the incense they begged for be considered truly sincere.
Gazing at the endless, serpentine queue, Shen Shu stood stunned for a moment. It was his very first time in his life witnessing an incense shop thrive to such an extent; this bustling sea of heads was practically as desperate as disaster victims begging for porridge.
He walked closer, eyed a woman in the line holding a child, and asked with genuine surprise, “Are you here to pray for a match as well?”
The woman possessed a benevolent expression and replied with a smile, “No, I am praying for my child’s safety.”
“The Matchmaking Cult Master can protect people’s safety too?” Shen Shu asked in astonishment, “Is he not only meant for matchmaking?”
The woman chuckled gently, “Originally it was only for matchmaking, but a while ago someone went to pray for wealth, and just a few days later a box of gold literally fell from the sky at their home. The Matchmaking Cult Master is truly boundless in power and capable of anything. As a mother, I don’t have many demands; I only pray that my child stays safe and healthy.”
Even great deities like Lord Lao and Old Man Yuelao did not necessarily grant mortal petitions one by one, yet this Matchmaking Cult Master possessed such miraculous potency? This hardly looked like the style of a mere demon; it was well on its way to becoming an evil god!
A tempest raged within Shen Shu’s heart, as he felt there were far too many suspicious anomalies surrounding this affair.
“Open!” shouted a voice from the front. The wooden door panels of the incense shop were unlatched from the inside as the proprietor finally emerged to open for business.
Seeing the crowd instantly surge into a frenzy, Shen Shu could not afford to linger. Nodding in farewell to the woman, he turned to leave, but his peripheral vision swept across the incense shop owner from several hundred paces away, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
Before he could inspect further, the owner was swallowed up by the surging crowd. Feeling a lingering hesitation, he knew subduing the demon took precedence. Without dwelling on it further, he walked back to Pei Zizhuo’s side and, seeing Pei Zizhuo staring intently at a stone tablet, asked, “What is it?”
Pei Zizhuo pointed at the tablet and motioned for him to look at the ground: “Judging by the extent of wind erosion on this grey rock, it should have stood here for decades. Yet look at the soil at the base of the tablet; it’s loose, most likely having been dug up and disturbed recently.”
It was merely a mortal stone tablet. Even if it had truly been disturbed, it shouldn’t be enough to draw the scrutiny of a cultivator. Yet Pei Zizhuo’s eyes had locked onto it immediately, indicating there was definitely something hidden beneath.
Remembering how he had casually plucked baleful energy out from the underground palace in Mount Lebai, and harboring no doubts regarding Pei Zizhuo’s keen eye, Shen Shu flicked a ball of immortal energy from his sleeve.
The drifting strand of immortal energy orbited the tablet before diving straight down through the soil layers into the ground, only to burst violently back up an instant later, scrambling back into Shen Shu’s palm in absolute panic.
Shen Shu reeled the immortal energy back in and, with a flicker of his spiritual sense, widened his eyes in utter shock: “An Illusory Realm?”
As the saying went, once inside an Illusory Realm, heaven and earth inverted and sovereignty changed hands.
This Illusory Realm should have belonged exclusively to Bodhi Patriarch of the Heavenly Realm, and every single disciple of Patriarch Bodhi was an immortal or Buddha. How could one be set up right here?
The scenario was painfully familiar. Had he not witnessed a cauldron for gathering heavenly breath that originally belonged to the Heavenly Realm inside Danxiao’s underground palace just days ago?
At this thought, Shen Shu could not help feeling uneasy. A heavy stone seemed to press down on his chest, and his expression instantly darkened.
“An Illusory Realm?” Pei Zizhuo mused aloud. “Even if one could steal a secret realm from the Patriarch, setting it up through spells requires cultivation well above the Mahayana stage. There are only two people in the Divine Continent with such cultivation: Bi Xiu of Penglai Island, and Shen Shu of the Sifang Pavilion.”
Shen Shu froze, stunned for a long moment before confirming that the person being referred to was none other than himself.
Although he had lived in secluded cultivation, the heavenly tribulation he faced during ascension was exceptionally rare and world-shaking, which should have rocked the cultivation world. How could anyone still not know that the final cultivator of the Sifang Pavilion had already ascended?
“Shen Shu of the Sifang Pavilion did he not ascend?”
Pei Zizhuo replied indifferently, “Ascension requires timing and destiny, both indispensable. It is not as though every cultivator who spends a millennium in bitter practice is guaranteed to ascend.”
That was naturally true. Leaving aside the cultivation world and looking solely at the Sifang Pavilion, counting the sect leader there were fifteen individuals in total, and ultimately only Shen Shu had weathered the heavenly tribulation to attain immortality. The cruelty of the process was self-evident.
Yet that was not what Shen Shu meant. He asked somewhat anxiously, “Didn’t he summon the heavenly tribulation, causing the East Sea to roar and the Northern Mountains to tremble? He should have become an immortal.”
“In what year did this happen?”
“Nearly two hundred years ago.”
Pei Zizhuo thought for a moment and said, “Although I entered the path of cultivation rather late, I am fairly well-versed in those who attained the Dao within the cultivation world. If there had indeed been a heavenly tribulation for Shen Shu’s ascension two hundred years ago as you claim, I can only tell you that I have never heard of it.”
Shen Shu’s face turned pale instantly. He immediately wanted to ascend to the heavens on the spot and consult Star Lord Siming to thoroughly investigate the matter of his own ascension.
“However, that would not prevent him from suppressing the news after ascending, especially since the location of the Sifang Pavilion is a blessed treasure land of the Divine Continent. If word got out that Shen Shu had truly ascended, wouldn’t people tear that treasure land apart fighting over it?”
That was indeed a plausible excuse. Shen Shu had to suppress his doubts for the time being, forcing himself to analyze the origin of the Illusory Realm. “Bi Xiu is a beast king. If he came out of seclusion, it would definitely shake all immortal beasts and birds. Besides, he stopped interfering with worldly affairs long ago; it shouldn’t be him. As for Shen Shu, I know that man, a pure-yang sword cultivator whose core pursuit is purity of mind. Naturally, it wouldn’t be him either.”
Pei Zizhuo’s amber eyes rolled, casting an investigative gaze onto Shen Shu’s face: “You seem exceptionally knowledgeable about the affairs of Shen Shu.”
How could he not be knowledgeable? I am afraid no one in the world knows him better than I do.
Lowering his gaze, Shen Shu equivocated, “Just an old friend. We haven’t seen each other in many years.”
“To be able to count Shen Shu of the Sifang Pavilion as a friend is a blessing countless cultivators could never hope to attain.”
Shen Shu felt somewhat awkward, pondering how to smooth over his previous panic.
However, Pei Zizhuo pressed no further. Brushing past Shen Shu, he walked up to the stone tablet, squatted down, and began examining the Illusory Realm.
Having just told a lie, Shen Shu’s heart remained unsettled, and he did not dare crowd around Pei Zizhuo. Stamping his foot against the earth, he spread his spiritual sense outward along the ground to calculate the spatial boundary of the Illusory Realm.
“A prohibition rune has been inscribed onto this tablet.” Pei Zizhuo rubbed away the residual ash on the tablet. “No wonder none of the cultivators swallowed by the Taotie ever had their fellow sect members come seeking revenge. It’s likely because this prohibition cut off all news and spiritual aura originating from within Mount Chan. It seems someone has plotted this for a long time and orchestrated it deliberately.”
“Seeing how the common folk of Baling County rely so heavily on the Matchmaking Cult Master, he must have gathered enough popular devotion here. He is probably about to close the net.”
For an evil entity to prepare to close its net meant draining the flesh and vital essence of the local populace, a cruelty far surpassing the slaughter of a city. Shen Shu was startled, and just as he was about to respond, he suddenly remembered Immortal Lord Wuling’s admonition to him.
The wind rises at the tip of duckweed; human fortunes and misfortunes have long been predestined.
A knot tightened in his chest. Lifting his gaze toward Pei Zizhuo, his dark eyes deep and unfathomable, he asked, “Zizhuo, do you think human fate is truly mapped out by calculations?”
“What?” Pei Zizhuo stood up and turned to look at him.
“I heard someone say that human fortune and misfortune are predestined long in advance.”
The late autumn wind was cold, carrying fallen leaves in silent desolation that chilled the human heart to the core.