Zhong Mobei found the situation inconceivable. He knew the true reason Xuan Yue disliked others being near him was his fear that someone would detect the demonic energy within his body. Could it be that because Xie Rong’s talent was so abysmal, Xuan Yue felt safe letting him get close? Mobei remained convinced that Xuan Yue was merely putting on a performance for him.
Back on Snow Cloud Peak, Xie Rong looked at Xuan Yue, his face full of lingering fear. “Master, how can Aunt Menghui have such a temperament? It was truly terrifying.”
Xuan Yue had not let go of Xie Rong’s hand during the entire journey back, and he noticed that the boy’s hands were much colder than usual. Xie Rong, realizing he was still holding his Master’s hand, felt his earlobes flush red and quickly pulled away. “Master, am I being too delicate? Perhaps Aunt Menghui was right; I truly lack any combat awareness.”
Seeing Xie Rong’s dampened spirits, Xuan Yue waited until the chill had left the boy’s hands before asking, “Shall I accompany you in sword practice tomorrow?”
Xie Rong looked up, shaking his head without hesitation. He had practiced with Xuan Yue before; even when Xuan Yue was clearly going easy on him, Xie Rong could not even touch the hem of his Master’s robe. He felt like a frantic, bristling kitten, only able to circle Xuan Yue, unable to land a single scratch.
I do not really want to practice with Master; it destroys my self-confidence. I have little confidence to begin with, and I feel depressed for days after our sparring. Why am I becoming so difficult? I do not want Master to feed me moves, I do not want to spar with the puppet, and I do not want to go to the back mountain to hunt spirit beasts. If I refuse to do anything, how can I ever gain combat experience? Why isn’t there a combat game like in my dreams, where I could experience fighting without actually having to kill?
Xuan Yue heard this inner monologue and narrowed his eyes. That evening, he intentionally placed a jade slip in a spot where Xie Rong would find it. The next morning, Xie Rong ran over, bursting with excitement.
“Master, look what I found! This technique, called the Nightmare Art, can pull a person’s soul into a dream. Do you know this spell? Could you pull my soul into a dream and set up various combat scenarios for me? If I die in the dream, I will just wake up. That way, I can gain combat experience without having to kill.”
Xuan Yue feigned reading the art for a moment before replying, “I learned this technique when I was in the Nascent Soul stage. If you cannot realize it is a dream, killing too much within it can damage your state of mind. You might even lose the ability to distinguish reality from the dream. Are you truly willing to use this?”
Many had thought of this method before, but it always ended the same way: they became obsessed with the slaughter and fell into the demonic path. Xie Rong proposed a solution: he asked Xuan Yue to tag all enemies in the dream with “red names” and display “health bars” above their heads. He explained the concept to Xuan Yue in detail.
Xuan Yue’s tone was filled with uncertainty. “You are certain that adding a red name and a health bar will prevent you from becoming obsessed with the slaughter?”
Xie Rong nodded confidently. Of course. This is just like a modern online game. No matter how realistic the environment is, as long as I see a health bar, I know it is fake.
Years later, Xuan Yue heard that buzzing static sound again, missing the words “modern online game.” Yet, he felt Xie Rong might be right; otherwise, why would the Heavenly Dao have hidden those words? Xuan Yue took a pink pill from his storage ring and fed it to Xie Rong.
“Master, what is this? It has no spiritual energy and is pink,” Xie Rong asked.
Xuan Yue smiled. “Your Uncle Gu Chen once refined a batch of Beauty-Preserving Pills. They are harmless to the body.”
Xie Rong was stunned. He recalled a beauty-preserving pill selling for nine million high-grade spirit stones at an auction a decade ago. Xuan Yue nodded, noting that Xie Rong’s was of the superior variety from the same batch. When Xie Rong asked why he wanted him to eat it, Xuan Yue picked up a lock of the boy’s hair, feeling a sudden urge to tease him. “I heard you talking in your sleep, saying you did not want to grow old or ugly.”
Xie Rong’s ears turned bright red. He talked in his sleep? He hoped he hadn’t said anything sacrilegious while in his dazed state. Xuan Yue set the hair down and began setting up the dream. He did not warn Xie Rong, intentionally casting the Nightmare Art when the boy wasn’t looking. The next second, Xie Rong went limp, falling into Xuan Yue’s arms. Xuan Yue watched over the boy, gently brushing his hair aside, his divine sense constantly monitoring the dream. He would forcibly wake Xie Rong if he saw even a trace of obsession.
Inside the dream, Xie Rong forgot he was dreaming. Seeing the red names and health bars, he charged at his enemies with his sword. Xuan Yue was astonished to find that even though Xie Rong’s strikes were ruthless, there was not a hint of killing intent in his eyes. He wasn’t obsessed with slaughter; he was simply hacking away as if he were chopping vegetables.
The dungeon Xuan Yue had created was perfectly suited for him. When Xie Rong’s stamina and energy were exhausted, the dream dissipated. Xie Rong awoke, oblivious to the fact that he had been lying in Xuan Yue’s lap, and cheered, “Master, it works! I remember the combat experience, and my muscles have the memory, too!”
Xuan Yue leaned closer, peering into Xie Rong’s eyes, which remained entirely free of malice. “Why is it that you killed so many, yet your eyes hold no intent to kill?”
Xie Rong replied cheerfully, “Because of the red names and health bars! I know they are fake. Since I am not actually killing anyone, naturally, no malice arises.” It is just playing a virtual game; how could it affect reality? No matter how realistic a game is, I have never heard of anyone becoming a killer in real life just because they played a game.
Xuan Yue synthesized the technique into a jade slip for Xie Rong to use. His own fighting experience was vastly superior to the boy’s, so he filled the dreams with the replicated techniques of the enemies he had defeated over the millennia. He was eager to see what he could mold Xie Rong into. After the incident with Zhong Menghui, Xuan Yue felt a sense of urgency. He could not protect Xie Rong every second of every day, and the boy needed the ability to defend himself. As long as the Demonic Bone existed, Xie Rong could not die.
Three months later, Xuan Yue prepared for their departure. “You will accompany me on a long journey; your Grandmaster is heading to a small secret realm.”
Xie Rong jumped up, tossing the jade slip aside. He ran over and hugged Xuan Yue. “It is about time! You rarely go out, and when you do, I am usually busy cultivating. I am so happy; this is my first long journey, and it is with you!”
Xuan Yue felt his mood brighten, though a heavy weight lay beneath his smile. If this mission failed, both of them would lose their lives. Xuan Yue had not intended to bring Xie Rong, but he realized he would not have enough confidence without the boy. “That realm is dangerous, even to me. Are you still going?”
Xie Rong hesitated. Master never lies. If he says it is dangerous, it is dangerous. But he wants to bring me, so it must hold a great opportunity. He looked up with determination. “I am going.”
Xuan Yue smiled. “You chose this; do not regret it.”
Xie Rong tugged on his sleeve. “As long as I am with you, I fear neither mountains of blades nor seas of fire.”
Xuan Yue looked into the boy’s clear, innocent eyes, then reached out to cover them, pulling Xie Rong into a gentle embrace. “Foolish child, do not trust others so easily. When will you ever grow smart?”
Xie Rong felt no concern, thinking to himself: Master and Senior Brother are the same, always saying such things. But in this world, I only trust two people: Senior Brother and Master. If even Master is not worthy of my trust, I would rather believe the sun rises in the west. I trust Master, not anyone else. Why is he acting so strangely today? Is he worried he cannot protect me in the realm?
Xuan Yue hugged him tightly for a moment before letting go. “Your Grandmaster is taking Zhong Menghui. You must stay by my side. No matter what happens, do not stay alone with her. I know you fear killing, but sometimes you must be ruthless. Because if you do not kill others, they will kill you. If my Rong’er is killed by someone, I will be very, very sad.”