After the Breakup, My Cold and Aloof Junior Disciple Went Mad - Chapter 5

Gu Shenzhi’s body swayed slightly. As he curled up, he felt his limbs grow even heavier.

He thought to himself, As long as I can make Lu Nanfeng vent his anger, what does it matter if I am treated as a mount and ridden through the streets? At most, I’ll lose a bit of face.

Gu Shenzhi opened his mouth, the words to agree already on the tip of his tongue, but something seemed to choke his throat, and he couldn’t make a sound. He blamed himself for being incompetent. Gritting his teeth to swallow the bitterness, he was just about to force himself to speak through his discomfort when he saw Lu Nanfeng, who stood before him, suddenly move.

Lu Nanfeng, wearing pristine white boots, walked unhurriedly to Gu Shenzhi’s side and slowly squatted down.

Not knowing what he intended to do, Gu Shenzhi gripped his fingers tightly in panic. His hair stood on end, and all five senses became abnormally acute. Gu Shenzhi heard the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric, and then a scorching hot hand gripped the back of his neck, searing his spine with a sudden tension.

That hand didn’t linger long before sliding slowly from the nape of his neck down his spine. It traced his vertebrae one by one, moving with a leisurely gentleness, as if he were tracing a long-lost treasure.

Gu Shenzhi shuddered as if struck by lightning, his breathing becoming incredibly heavy. Time seemed to drag, each breath stretched out tenfold. Gu Shenzhi bit the bullet and endured the touch, feeling his entire body go numb. Just as he was about to collapse, the hand stopped at his sacrum, slowly channeling a warm, gentle spiritual energy into him, melting away the stiffness caused by the cold and gathering a ball of heat within him.

Cold sweat slid down his cheeks, and Gu Shenzhi let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“You’ve lost weight,” Lu Nanfeng said in a low voice. He withdrew his hand and stood up, returning to his high and mighty posture. “Is the feng shui in the Heavenly Realm bad? Or is it that those ‘nightingales and swallows’ of yours don’t know how to cherish you, letting you waste away like this?”

The heat within his body was enough for Gu Shenzhi to regain his composure. His eyes trembled slightly, and he carefully weighed his words. “Thank you for your concern, Divine Lord. From now on, regardless of whether it is a mountain of blades or a sea of fire, this minor immortal is at your command. Even if… even if it is to become a mount, I am perfectly willing.”

Lu Nanfeng did not speak, watching him silently, though his hands were clenched tightly.

The infusion of energy just now had left Gu Shenzhi feeling somewhat distracted. His eyes flickered, and just as he raised his head to speak, he heard Lu Nanfeng say coldly, “Leave.”

Gu Shenzhi was stunned. Was he letting him go so easily?

Lu Nanfeng glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “You were somewhat interesting before, but now you are so docile that you have no backbone. Truly… dull and repulsive.”

Gu Shenzhi froze for a moment before immediately standing up. “Thank you, Divine Lord.”

He fled in a panic, walking briskly. Only after escaping that massive mansion did he slowly release the breath that had been stuck in his chest. Gu Shenzhi stood not far from the estate, blankly watching the drifting clouds beneath his feet. He looked like a soul lost, devoid of the brilliance expected of an immortal.

‘In these three realms, few are as devoted as you, Divine Lord; yet, you are the only one who clings so stubbornly to that past…’

As soon as he thought of such sharp and cynical sarcasm coming from his own mouth, Gu Shenzhi’s eyes turned red. He raised his hand to press against the corner of his eye; his chest ached painfully. If he hadn’t been late this morning, if he had recognized Lu Nanfeng sooner… perhaps the reunion wouldn’t have been so humiliating.

“Wuling!” Siming shouted at the top of his lungs right next to Gu Shenzhi’s ear, making him snap back to reality. His vision focused on Siming’s panicked face.

“My Heaven-Venerable! Why are you crying?!” Siming looked at him as if witnessing a miracle from the ages. His gaze flickered strangely between the Divine Lord’s mansion and Gu Shenzhi. He frowned and lowered his voice: “Did the Divine Lord punish you?”

Gu Shenzhi raised his hand to touch his cheek; it was indeed wet. Ignoring his dignity, he hurriedly wiped away the tears with his sleeve. Within a few breaths, his demeanor returned to normal. “He didn’t punish me; he just scolded me a couple of times.”

Siming looked at him suspiciously. “What did he scold you about? You’ve never been a fragile person. How could you cry like this after just two reprimands? I was shouting at you for a long time, and you didn’t respond. I almost thought your soul had been snatched.”

In truth, there wasn’t much to the scolding, nothing more than calling him dissolute and irritating. If someone unrelated had said that, Gu Shenzhi definitely wouldn’t have cared; at worst, he would have found a chance to get revenge. But coming from Lu Nanfeng, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and endure it.

Gu Shenzhi let out a laugh, feeling truly pathetic. He turned his eyes to Siming, his gaze sharp and probing. “Do you know who the Qingqiu Divine Lord was before he ascended?”

Siming found the question baffling. “How would I know? The fate records of the Divine Lords are kept in the Ziwei Pavilion. How would the Jiyang Palace have the authority to know that?”

Siming looked left and right, and seeing no one else around, he poked Gu Shenzhi. “If you want to deal with him, why not start with his attendant, the Fox Lord? Go and inquire about the ‘divine person’ who supposedly betrayed him. You are smart; don’t lose your head in a fit of anger and risk your life by going head-to-head with him.”

Gu Shenzhi glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “You have plenty of devious ideas. Aren’t you afraid I’ll report you to the Divine Lord?”

Siming retorted angrily, “I’m helping you because I saw you being bullied!”

Gu Shenzhi chuckled. “You really can help me with something.”

Siming looked at him vigilantly, his expression serious. “It cannot violate the laws of the Heavenly Realm, and it cannot harm public order and customs.”

“Is my character really that bad?” Gu Shenzhi glared at him.

“Hard to say; it depends on the situation.”

Gu Shenzhi shook his head. “Do you have any tasks that require me to descend to the mortal realm immediately? Short or long-term is fine; just give me one.”

“Oh,” Siming clicked his tongue. “Which side did the sun rise from today? You are actively asking to descend to the mortal realm for a task?”

Gu Shenzhi gritted his teeth. “Take advantage of the fact that I’ve lost my mind right now and arrange it quickly. Otherwise, if I calm down, I won’t be so easy to talk to.”

Siming hurried to take out his star-fortune box, smiling playfully. “There is, there is… let me find it… The only one recently is this task regarding a mortal ‘prophet’ who is killing people, but this is a two-person mission.”

Gu Shenzhi reached out and took the bamboo slip, carving his divine seal onto it without even looking, then turned to leave. He left behind a single sentence: “I’ll go down first. After you find someone else to accept, tell them to descend and find me.”

Siming looked at his retreating back, puzzled. “What’s gotten into him? Is someone chasing him for a debt?”

It was indeed a debt—a debt of the heart. Gu Shenzhi was usually generous and had gotten used to being the creditor; this was his first time being the debtor. He felt he couldn’t pay it back, so he fled—fled cleanly and decisively, no different from a rascal. He never expected to encounter Lu Nanfeng again in his lifetime, and he never expected Lu Nanfeng to harbor such resentment toward him.

Since that was the case, it was best to be sensible and stay far away. Perhaps if Lu Nanfeng didn’t see him, he wouldn’t be so annoyed and would feel better. Gu Shenzhi slapped his forehead. He had only just realized that if he stayed in the Jiyang Palace, he would eventually run into Lu Nanfeng. He should have resigned directly instead of taking a mission to the mortal realm. Truly, one shouldn’t make decisions when their head is spinning. Well, let’s discuss it when I return.

Gu Shenzhi suppressed his cultivation to the mid-stage of the Golden Core. He put away his cloud banner and, after hesitating for a long time among his various modes of transportation, he inadvertently stepped onto a sword and headed straight for Yanning Town.

This mission was to investigate a fortune-teller in Yanning Town who was casting omens. This fortune-teller had died in his home as early as the eighth of the second lunar month, and the underworld’s record of fate stated that his lifespan had ended. Strangely, he had suddenly returned from the dead a few days later and continued to set up his stall at the city gate to tell fortunes as if nothing had happened.

The underworld had sent ghost messengers to apprehend him, but even though the man sat in broad daylight and faced the messengers, they could not find his soul. That was the first mystery.

The second mystery was that after his resurrection, this fortune-teller did not calculate luck, marriage, or wealth; he only predicted life and death. For half a guan of copper coins, he could tell you exactly what year, month, day, and hour you would die, and why. He was incredibly accurate, even more detailed than what was written in the Death Registry of the Yama Palace.

Gu Shenzhi had seen too much; such weird occurrences were usually man-made. He guessed that the fortune-teller was likely using some strange, sinister techniques to kill people. He continued reading and slowly frowned. Among the victims in this mission was a cultivator from the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion.

The Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion was the only sect in the Divine Land that relied on mechanics and calculation; they were the masters of divination. A group of three had passed through this place by chance, saw the fortune-teller’s stall, and, assuming he was a fraud trying to swindle the people, decided to challenge him personally.

The two sides exchanged their eight-character birth charts. After using divination, the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion cultivators determined that the fortune-teller should have died days ago, but there the man sat, alive and well, with breathing, a pulse, and body temperature. They were greatly shocked.

When it was the fortune-teller’s turn, he merely pinched his fingers and calculated that one of them would die tomorrow at noon, with the cause of death being a fall on flat ground. The cultivators laughed and called it ridiculous; they didn’t believe it and waited for the next day to confront the fortune-teller. But to their surprise, the fortune-teller’s target, while walking on flat ground, suddenly turned gray-faced, staggered to the ground, rolled in pain, and died with his eyes wide open.

The remaining two cultivators, not daring to be overconfident, hurriedly returned to their sect with the body.

Since then, the fortune-teller had become famous, and many curious people flocked from all over, making Yanning Town quite bustling. The task was to investigate the fortune-teller’s background and the source of his eerie techniques.

When Gu Shenzhi arrived in Yanning Town, it was already past sunset, and he had missed the fortune-teller’s daily stall hours. The night market was in full swing; the long street was crowded with people, loud with noise, and filled with the smell of food. Everywhere was humanity, every ear was filled with clamor.

Gu Shenzhi rubbed his temples. Perhaps because too much had happened today, his temples were throbbing, and his mind was not clear. He decided to find a place to stay, plan to sleep, and then address it.

Yanning Town’s inns had almost no rooms left. Gu Shenzhi used a generous amount of money and kind words to convince the innkeeper to vacate a room for him. Gu Shenzhi checked the room; it was clean and simple. Apart from being a corner room, there were no problems. However, it was early spring and chilly, and the indoor temperature was not much higher than outside.

Gu Shenzhi wrapped himself in a quilt and collapsed on the slightly damp pillow. The warmth Lu Nanfeng had channeled into him had long since dissipated. He curled up his cold body and felt relieved for a long time, but his sleep was restless.

One dream followed another, constantly replaying in his mind.

Gu Shenzhi dreamed of his childhood at the Lingxiao Palace. The palace attendants would call him “Little Divine Lord” all day, hovering around to make him happy, helping him skip lessons, going up trees to catch birds, or into the river to catch fish. The days were extremely happy; he lacked the gravity expected of a prince.

Each time he got into trouble, Gu Shenzhi would be grabbed by his father by the ear and dragged to kneel before his mother’s spirit tablet. At these times, his uncle would descend from the sky to plead for him. Gu Shenzhi would cooperate, pretending to be repentant and tearful, which always softened his father’s heart and led to his early release. At the time, Gu Shenzhi thought that apart from his father, his uncle was the one who treated him best.

But good times didn’t last. One day, his father and uncle had a huge argument in the Jinsheng Hall, and they drew their swords. His uncle was beaten by his father until he was covered in blood and fled the Lingxiao Palace. For a long time after, he didn’t see his uncle again.

In the dream, the scene shifted. The Lingxiao Palace was pulled back, shrinking to a single roof tile of the Heavenly Palace. Gu Shenzhi saw his father wearing golden armor, hovering high above the South Heaven Gate. His back was straight, yet inexplicably lonely, holding the Five-Colored Divine Light. Nine peacock feathers hung from the light, using immense pressure to push back the constantly regenerating demon race.

Until the leading demon rebel’s armor was shattered by the divine light, revealing a face—a crowd of peacock faces!

Gu Shenzhi hurried forward with his younger brother, Cangle, but before they could get close, they heard his uncle, forced to his knees, eyes splitting with rage, screaming toward them: “Brother, today the mandate of heaven is with the demons. Do not be stubborn! Better to offer the Peacock Feathers now and share in the glory!”

Kong Zhao, devoid of joy or sorrow, released a Lotus Seal from his hands, the sound of Sanskrit flowing from his fingers. “Kong Hui, you abandoned the gods and Buddhas, defected to the demons, and disturbed the three realms—this is a grave sin. As the clan leader, my failure to discipline you is also an unforgivable sin.”

“After today, I will lead you into exile in the lands beyond, never to return.”

As soon as he spoke, the Lotus Seal bloomed, and golden Sanskrit surrounded them, turning into a cage that enveloped Kong Hui and his followers. Kong Hui struggled desperately, roaring, “You’ve gone mad! You don’t care about the lives of your clansmen, and you don’t care about the life of your son!”

Kong Zhao’s eyes flickered. “The children are innocent. The Heavenly Emperor has promised that the young children of the clan may remain and live on Cuiwei Peak.”

Kong Hui froze. He pounced on Kong Zhao with a roar but was blocked by the golden light barrier. The scorching spell burned his flesh, but he didn’t care. He cursed viciously, “Kong Zhao! It is your stubbornness, it is you who pushed our clansmen into the abyss! It is you who destroyed the glory of the peacocks for ten million years! You are the sinner, you are!”

“I curse your descendants to never escape heavenly condemnation! All who believe in you will be betrayed! All who love you will not have a good end! You carry the blood of a sinner and will never be accepted by the Heavenly Realm!”

Gu Shenzhi held Cangle, who was trembling in fear. He watched as his father gathered the three Peacock Feathers into a golden light and struck them onto his uncle, personally destroying his bloodline and cultivation. Afterward, his father handed the remaining Peacock Feathers and the Five-Colored Divine Light to him without a word, turned around with determination, and led the exiled clansmen to fly toward the lands beyond.

The peacock king’s feathers, as bright as seven-colored clouds, spilled into the Heavenly River and vanished into the vast sky in an instant. Only Gu Shenzhi remained, standing alone in the Heavenly Realm, the dead silence of the South Heaven Gate before him and an uncertain path ahead, like a drop in the ocean.

The scene suddenly shifted, and the view of the South Heaven Gate was folded and swallowed by a mass of black mist. Peering through the cracks in the mist, Gu Shenzhi saw himself rushing into Cuiwei Peak, prostrating himself before a corpse, everything in his field of vision stained red. Gu Shenzhi’s hands moved fast to form seals, casting several Peacock Feathers to lock the person’s meridians, using every method to protect their life. Even though he was trembling with fear and his mind was a blank slate, the curse kept ringing in his ears:

“All who believe in you will be betrayed! All who love you will not have a good end!”

The nightmare was like an invisible iron hand piercing his chest, grabbing his beating heart, causing him pain to the point of suffocation. Just as he was about to drown in the sea of bitterness, a scent of cold fragrance drifted over, like a piece of driftwood. He smelled the fragrance, clung to the driftwood, and broke through the water. The dream shattered the endless black mist and landed in a bright, bustling place.

It was the Xuan Tian Sect. Before him was the advancement arena. He and the Divine Goddess, a group of four, stood on the Xuanwu Stone, waiting for something. Gu Shenzhi’s mind was hazy; he stood in the bustling crowd, everything feeling unreal, like a bubble. He raised his hand to touch the Xuanwu Stone, which was warm under the sunlight. A voice pulled him back into the dream instantly: “Trial Rank Number One, Lu Nanfeng, promoted to inner sect disciple.”

Lu Nanfeng? His gaze moved past the Xuanwu Stone and landed on Lu Nanfeng, who stood in a corner. The person was wearing a pitch-black mysterious iron mask, standing with his eyes lowered, his emotions unreadable.

Then what? Gu Shenzhi wondered what he had done. He saw himself grinning foolishly, quietly putting on a white blindfold, walking in a large circle away from the crowd, and feeling his way toward Lu Nanfeng. Lu Nanfeng was so powerful; he deserved to be congratulated. Gu Shenzhi was grinning, without any reserve, and stood next to Lu Nanfeng, whispering: “Junior brother, congratulations to you; you are so amazing.”

Lu Nanfeng paused for a moment before realizing that this little blind person was talking to him. His suspicious gaze drifted through the iron mask to fall on Gu Shenzhi’s face, taking in the white blindfold. “I know.”

Quite arrogant, Gu Shenzhi thought at the time.

Lu Nanfeng habitually glanced at where he had just been—dozens of feet away, separated by dozens of people—and asked, amazed: “How did you get here? Can you see the road?”

Gu Shenzhi tilted his head, showing a row of white teeth. “I can’t see, but I asked them where you were and found you successfully. Guess what that means?”

Lu Nanfeng didn’t know; he chose not to answer.

Gu Shenzhi chuckled. “It means I am also very amazing.”

Lu Nanfeng: “…”

“Junior brother, why did you stop talking? Are you still here?” Gu Shenzhi felt a bit panicked. He reached out to touch the surroundings and accidentally touched an unfamiliar arm. Gu Shenzhi subconsciously pulled his hand back, apologizing proficiently, only to hear the owner of the arm say: “Yes, you are also very amazing.”

Gu Shenzhi let out a soft laugh and was awakened by the harsh morning sun of spring. He pulled the blanket over his head; it was a rare good dream, and he wanted to continue.

But a sound-transmission talisman flew in from the window, unceremoniously sticking to his forehead with a “pop.” Gu Shenzhi clicked his tongue, kicked the quilt a few times, and tore open the talisman. He heard Siming’s lifeless voice: “The person doing the task with you this time is a newcomer. Please, put in the effort to guide him. He is carrying a long sword and is sitting in the lobby downstairs drinking tea. The code is: ‘The willows at Zhangtai are all broken; we meet again at the season of falling flowers.'”

Gu Shenzhi: “…” What kind of broken code is that?

Gu Shenzhi, filled with inexplicable anger, tore off a transmission talisman, asked a younger member of his clan to draft a resignation letter, and ordered that it be submitted to Siming without letting him see it. Afterward, he asked one more thing: “What is the progress on the demon spirit being tracked? If there is any news, contact me at any time.”

The talisman in his fingertips turned into golden dust and dissipated. He rolled out of bed, ready to find the newcomer. Although this was his final post, it was his first time meeting someone, and even with his extraordinary abilities, he was embarrassed to make others wait. Gu Shenzhi called the waiter for a basin of water, washed up simply, and went downstairs.

It was just past seven in the morning. The waiter had just finished setting up the chairs, and the lobby was still empty. A person with a long sword sat upright at a table near the entrance, as if he had been waiting for a long time. The person seemed to notice Gu Shenzhi’s gaze, turned around, and revealed a face wearing a mysterious iron mask.