This scene was truly terrifying.
The rock nest was as silent as death.
Although the giant stone monster could not see people, being stared at directly by its huge, rigid eyes still brought an intense sense of oppression.
Especially since its pupils were extremely small, looking as though they had just been poked with a tiny hole.
This extremely uncoordinated proportion made its eyes look deeply deformed.
Sometimes, the more terrified people are of something frightening, the less they can pull their eyes away from it.
That was because they worried that this terrifying thing would lunge forward the very next second.
Xie Shi was this kind of person.
He knew that the giant stone monster had suddenly leaned in to sense their aura.
It could not see anyone at all, but Xie Shi still stared fixedly at its eyes, not daring to relax for even a single second.
If Xie Shi were a cat, he would surely be in a state with his spine arched and his fur completely bristling.
Until a pair of warm, soft hands covered his eyes.
Under extreme tension, Xie Shi’s goosebumps instantly rose. Just before he was about to jump, Song Yan’s warm chest pressed against his back, and the familiar, faint fragrance slowly enveloped him, slipping into his nasal cavity and soothing his sensitive nerves.
“A-Shi, do not be afraid.”
Song Yan’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it possessed an extraordinary power to soothe the heart, smoothing down Xie Shi’s bristling fur bit by bit.
His tense spine was softened bit by bit by the other person’s body heat.
Xie Shi was well-comforted, only then slowly relaxing his body and exhaling a long breath of stale air.
Reason returned.
Then his earlobes turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye.
This was simply too embarrassing!
He knew full well that the giant stone monster could not see people, yet he had still been frightened.
He even needed the clueless Song Yan to comfort him.
Xie Shi tried to salvage his pride, stubbornly saying, “I am fine.”
Worried that the giant stone monster might hear him, he kept his voice very low, practically just humming.
Song Yan let out an “Mn” and obediently withdrew his hands, but instead of putting them down, he wrapped his arms around Xie Shi’s waist. He rested his chin on Xie Shi’s shoulder, pressing tightly against his back.
He had returned to a frail and docile state.
This was Xie Shi’s interpretation.
Yet from another perspective, one could see that he was locked in someone else’s embrace in a posture of absolute possession.
Song Yan pressed against him, leaving not the slightest gap between their two bodies.
Only the strength of the arms around his waist was neither heavy nor light. The force was just right; when it settled over him, Xie Shi only shivered out of unfamiliarity before quickly adapting.
Song Yan was probably still scared.
Xie Shi felt a bit more balanced in his heart, and also softened somewhat. He lowered his voice and said, “You do not need to be afraid either.”
Song Yan chuckled, his chest vibrating against Xie Shi’s back. Then Xie Shi heard Song Yan say, “Mn, I am not afraid.”
Xie Shi recalled how he had just been comforted by Song Yan and felt as though he had no right to say those words.
His face burned with heat, and he fell silent.
The giant stone monster stared inside for a long time, discovering nothing.
In the end, half out of frustration and half out of anger, it let out a roar, stood up, and walked away.
It vanished at the edge of the horizon. Xie Shi waited for another full quarter of an hour, and only when he was certain it would not appear again did he completely relax.
Yet Song Yan still kept his arms wrapped around Xie Shi’s waist without letting go.
Thinking that Song Yan was still frightened, Xie Shi patted the hand locked around his waist and said, “It is fine. It has already walked far away.”
“Mn.”
Still refusing to let go.
Thus, Xie Shi said again, “We need to go out.”
“Mn.”
Still not letting go.
Xie Shi began to wonder if Song Yan suffered from skin hunger.
Clearly, in the original text, there was no setting where he had to cling to people every single second.
Could this also be one of the proofs that the world was going off the rails?
Xie Shi guessed inwardly, inevitably believing the system’s words a little more.
Song Yan held Xie Shi for a very long time.
In the distance, that departing paper spirit crane trembled feebly, its spiritual energy exhausted, on the verge of falling.
The surging giant stone monsters raised their arms high, their stone walls and hands forming a small stone forest.
Their fingertips opened and closed, preparing to tear the paper spirit crane to shreds.
The paper spirit crane finally ran out of strength, paused in mid-air for a fraction of a second, and then drifted downward.
The giant stone monsters swarmed forward, fighting amongst themselves.
Yet in the end, they discovered that their fingers were completely empty, and they hadn’t even caught a single scrap of paper.
Inside the rock nest, Xie Shi saw Song Yan’s robe move, as if something had suddenly appeared inside his sleeve.
Just as he was about to look closer, Song Yan obediently let go of his hands and pulled them back.
Xie Shi turned his head and saw his sleeve hanging down empty and slack, with nothing falling out, so he assumed he had just seen things.
Even though their schedule had been delayed, there was not a trace of guilt on Song Yan’s face; he only looked at Xie Shi with a sweet and obedient smile.
His act of playing obedient was always captivating.
Xie Shi’s heart softened once more.
Fine, fine. So what if their schedule was delayed a bit?
What kind of big deal was this anyway? Besides, it was not all that urgent.
Xie Shi selectively ignored the system’s warnings telling him to find the Glazed Heart as soon as possible.
Speechless, the system cursed fiercely in its mind.
Such a hopeless simper!
The matter of searching for the Glazed Heart truly could not be rushed.
After all, the two of them had not even left the Wilderness yet.
And they might not even be able to leave at all.
Xie Shi made a trip to the Man-Eating Sands and discovered that massive changes had already taken place there.
They had disturbed all the giant stone monsters in the Wilderness, and these angered giant stone monsters had retaliated in kind.
That previous giant stone monster was still guarding the array eye.
Outside the vortex of the array eye, a row of giant stone monsters stood like a city wall, sealing off the array eye completely.
Dozens more giant stone monsters were patrolling various parts of the Man-Eating Sands, searching for any suspicious traces.
Using the giant stone monsters to enter the array eye was no longer viable.
If one tried to fly across from above on a flying sword, they would collide with the gale winds. These winds were as sharp as blades and could even tear Void Integration Realm cultivators to shreds.
However, these gale winds would automatically avoid the giant stone monsters and do them no harm.
With Xie Shi’s current strength, it was utterly impossible to evade these gale winds.
They could only rely on the giant stone monsters to approach the array eye.
Yet right now, there was no way to use the giant stone monsters as a shortcut anymore.
This had become a path leading to certain death.
The strategy of escaping the Wilderness through the array eye had failed before it even began.
They had no choice but to consider crossing the Black Mountains.
System, can you retrieve data on the Black Mountains? Xie Shi asked in his mind.
Cannot retrieve data. The system replied.
Xie Shi’s eyes narrowed slightly; he was not surprised by this answer.
The original text had never detailed the Black Mountains anyway, so it was entirely normal for the system to be unable to unearth information regarding them.
Yet, to a place where even giant stone monsters and bone spirits dared not set foot, was he truly going to take Song Yan and risk it?
Xie Shi felt somewhat hesitant.
Judging by the current situation, the probability of escaping through the array eye is zero percent. The system stated abruptly.
Xie Shi found it amusing: Is the probability of escaping through the Black Mountains not zero percent then?
It is not.
It is not?
The probability of escaping through the Black Mountains is garbled data.
Xie Shi: […]
Xie Shi was speechless: Is it because your information flow is congested that the calculated data is just garbled code? What difference does this make from zero percent?
After a long silence, the system finally said: If you get closer to the Black Mountains, perhaps I can retrieve more information.
This time, it was Xie Shi’s turn to be silent.
He knew that if they could not get out through the array eye, they had no choice but to try their luck at the Black Mountains.
Yet no one knew what they would encounter in the Black Mountains.
The system said: You can send Song Yan back into the Heavenly Prison. Following the plotline, he will be completely safe.
Xie Shi lowered his gaze and asked after a long while: Then what about those extra giant stone monsters?
We will figure out a way to clear them and ensure the plotline six years later does not deviate.
Xie Shi did not reply.
For now, this was indeed the best solution.
Yet Xie Shi still felt unhappy.
He always felt that this world harbored immense malice toward Song Yan.
This was not a poetic statement.
It was a fact.
From being hunted by bone spirits, to the giant stone monsters hunting them down, the packs of giant stone monsters encountered during their flight, and now the Black Mountains they were forced to head toward.
Every single instance revealed one stark fact.
If you do not follow the original plot, you must die.
And the fact that the system was always so eager to send Song Yan back to the Heavenly Prison made Xie Shi acutely aware of something.
Could it be related to the Matchmaker Bureau?
Or was he just being too sensitive?
The obstructed flow of information and the choice of facing a dead end made Xie Shi both irritated and furious, a fire surging up to scorch his lungs and vitals.
“A-Shi, what is wrong?”
His complexion was so poor that Song Yan reached out a finger to poke his cheek in an attempt to cheer him up.
That fire burned all the way to the back of his throat.
Xie Shi’s Adam’s apple rolled over and over before he managed to say with difficulty, “The array eye cannot get us out of the Wilderness. We have to go to the Black Mountains.”
“Mm.” Unconcerned, Song Yan draped himself over Xie Shi’s shoulder like boneless limbs and said, “Then let us go.”
Xie Shi turned his head, stared directly into his eyes, and said to him earnestly, “It is very dangerous there. We might die.”
“Or we might get out,” Song Yan said.
Xie Shi was silent for a moment before saying, “If you return to the Heavenly Prison, there will still be a chance later to escape through the array eye.”
The smile at the corner of Song Yan’s lips froze.
Hearing what Xie Shi was saying, the system issued frantic warnings in his mind: Warning! The host is prohibited from leaking plot information to characters in the small world! Warning! The host is prohibited from leaking plot information to characters in the small world!
Xie Shi did not notice Song Yan’s subtle change; he looked at Song Yan earnestly: “The giant stone monsters cannot see people and have no sense of touch; they can only sense living things through their breathing. The gale winds of the array eye will also automatically avoid the giant stone monsters when they encounter them. You only need to remember this, and you will definitely be able to pass through the array eye safely and escape the Wilderness.”
Sensing that Xie Shi had no intention of repenting, the system angrily discharged an electric current to punish him.
Pain struck his mind, and Xie Shi frowned slightly, biting his lower lip to swallow the gasp of pain back down his throat.
Song Yan’s expression was blank, his pink eyes pitch-black and unblinking as he stared straight at Xie Shi.
For a split second, an endless, frenzied, and terrifying emotion surged from the depths of his eyes, only to be forcefully beaten back down by him.
These words felt like several knives unceremoniously carving through Song Yan’s internal organs, and the fishy stench of blood instantly rushed to his throat, spreading up into his nasal cavity.
The tip of his tongue moved slightly, licking away the non-existent taste of blood in his mouth.
This sounded like a lie told simply to abandon him.
Even though Song Yan believed Xie Shi was not lying to him.
Yet his heart remained icy cold, furious, and terrified all at once.
The hand Song Yan had resting on Xie Shi’s waist exerted force unconsciously.
Fiercely, fiercely clasping Xie Shi into his embrace.
Xie Shi shifted uncomfortably, only to have that normally warm and soft hand on his waist tighten abruptly, pulling him straight into the embrace of the person behind him.
Song Yan had always been weak and submissive in front of him; when had he ever displayed such a forceful gesture?
Xie Shi was stunned, forgetting even the words in his mouth.
Song Yan’s eyelashes drooped, his gaze dark and gloomy.
He was almost unable to hold back anymore.
Cultivators had always detested the demon race.
These cultivators, who cut off all mortal emotions and desires, looked down upon them for indulging in passions and desires day in and day out, living unrestrained and dissolute lives.
Love and lust, gluttony and sexual desire, violence and possession, paranoia and distortion.
They violently collided and intertwined, surging and flowing turbulently through the blood of every single demon.
Song Yan was no exception.
His condition was even heavier.
He felt hungry again.
Famished. Starving.
He wanted to… wanted to devour Xie Shi.
That way, this person would never, ever be able to say words about throwing him away again.
This thought made Song Yan somewhat excited, and he involuntarily swallowed.
That fair, rounded earlobe of the person was right beneath his gaze.
Unable to hold back any longer, Song Yan opened his mouth and bit down on it.
The system’s electric shock did not cause Xie Shi to cry out in pain; instead, this insignificant pinch of pain made him let out a soft, stifled moan of discomfort.
Before Xie Shi could react, Song Yan hurriedly buried his face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, muttering dully, “You are going to throw me away again.”