After the Immortal Venerable Failed to Attain Dao - Chapter 3

Inside the gloomy, dark red wedding hall, five people sat at separate tables.

They had been forced into wedding robes, and beside each of them were placed two attendant children with deathly pale faces and red dots painted on their cheeks.

Except for the young cultivator from the Kui Ming Sect, the other four had all gone through a struggle outside the cave before entering.

Huan Yao was calm and composed. After glancing around at the decorations, he retracted his gaze and stared quietly at the teacup in front of him.

Beside him, a burly man sighed and muttered, “How did I run into him again? This is the fifth time this month. Is he even going to let anyone else live.”

A handsome cultivator next to him leaned over and nudged his arm. “Hey, big brother.”

“What is it?” The burly man was in a foul mood and didn’t even turn his head.

“It’s dark in here, I can’t see clearly. You’re closer, take a look at the person next to you. Is that the one from the Xuanqing Sect?”

The burly man snorted. “Do you even need to look? It’s so dark in this room, but the sword on his table is about to blind me.”

The cultivator was clearly excited. “Then let’s switch? It won’t be so glaring from my seat.”

The burly man sneered, casting a lukewarm glance at him. “What, you want to befriend him? Little brother, which sect are you from, and who is your master? Let me vet you first. If you’re not from a renowned background, he won’t even spare you a glance.”

The cultivator chuckled, leaning past the ghost attendant beside him to show his face. “No sect, no school, and no master.”

The burly man laughed. “Then what’s the point wait a minute.”

He squinted, also leaning past his own ghost attendant to get a closer look at the cultivator’s face.

They were here to act as grooms, so everyone, regardless of gender, was in men’s attire. He had only heard the voice earlier and thought it was clear, suggesting a young age. But looking closely at this cultivator’s face now, he spoke with some deliberation.

“You’re not a little brother, are you?”

The cultivator was aghast. “Of course not! You called me little brother, did you really think I was a man? Do I look that much like a man?”

“No, little sister,” the burly man said, a bit embarrassed as he explained, “it’s just dark in here.”

“It’s fine, big bro,” the cultivator smiled at him again, picking up the sword on her table to show him. “So, shall we switch? I’m a sword cultivator too. I’ve long admired the Young Lord and the Hua Jing sword. It’s a rare fortune to run into him; I’d feel like I’m missing out if I don’t get a closer look.”

The burly man glanced at her unremarkable sword and immediately thought less of her. Nowadays, anyone who picked up a broken sword off the street would call themselves a sword cultivator.

That esteemed one probably wouldn’t even spare her a glance.

As soon as the two switched seats, the female cultivator made her move. She first glanced at Huan Yao a couple of times, then tentatively called out, “Young Lord?”

Huan Yao heard her, but his divine soul was in the middle of relaxing and he didn’t want to be bothered.

He didn’t respond, but the female cultivator wasn’t embarrassed. Taking advantage of her proximity, she squinted and brazenly observed the sword on the table, letting out sounds of admiration from time to time.

In their row sat Huan Yao, the female cultivator, and the burly man. Opposite them were the young cultivator from the Kui Ming Sect and another young male cultivator.

The moment the young man opposite them saw the bone puppet next to the young cultivator, his eyes lit up. He enthusiastically sidled over to strike up a conversation, patting his chest and promising to protect him.

When the burly man saw the bone puppet, he also had the intention of befriending the Kui Ming Sect member and began interjecting into the young man’s conversation.

Suddenly, the doors flew open. A gust of frigid, eerie wind swept in, and all the ghost attendants at their sides shrieked piercingly.

The sound was like a mix of laughter and crying, welcoming a bride dressed in blood-red.

Everyone grew vigilant, gripping their weapons and staring at the doorway. In the pitch-black night, a dark red figure was approaching.

He wore wedding robes and a head covering. His figure was tall, his steps steady. Seeing the bride’s posture, the burly man hesitated, then raised his voice to be heard over the ghost attendants’ shrieks. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Isn’t that a man?”

Shi Li stopped outside the room, his figure hidden in the shadows. He lifted his head covering, his gaze sweeping across the room.

Suddenly, he paused, his eyes fixed on a certain spot.

It was very dark inside the wedding hall, and he couldn’t see their faces clearly, but he immediately spotted the sword gleaming with silver light on the table in the farthest corner.

All the blood in his body instantly began to stir. He could feel his own broken sword, hidden beneath his wide wedding robes, pressed against his waist and humming with an unbearable tremor.

Shi Li suppressed the restless weapon at his waist, a trace of excitement rising in his eyes.

How long had it been since he’d seen Hua Jing?

The sword was here, which meant its master was here too.

In the unexplored Golden Thunder Mystic Realm, it was perfectly normal for a sword master to die and a sword to be lost.

He would soon possess Hua Jing once more.

As long as the bride didn’t enter, the ghost attendants’ shrieking wouldn’t stop. The moment Shi Li stepped through the door, the hall fell silent, and everyone heard a low laugh from beneath the ghost bride’s head covering.

The burly man muttered, “It really is a man. This one and only sister here came to the right place. The male ghost will definitely choose her first. That’s fine… This time, that guy can’t be the one to take the prize again.”

Then, he watched with wide eyes as the bride raised an arm, his pale, slender fingers pointing to a corner of the wedding hall.

“…Fuck!”

The burly man’s eyes widened, and he slammed his hand on the table. “On what grounds! We have a perfectly good sister right here. Don’t tell me you’re a damn cut-sleeve ghost!”

From the moment the bride entered, Huan Yao had sensed something. He looked up, a hint of bewilderment filling his light blue pupils.

Why did Shi Li follow him here?

In front of so many people, should he embrace him or not?

In the end, he decided not to. He was a proper divine soul and had no penchant for public displays of affection.

Since Shi Li had come personally, it meant he had already obtained the treasure. The already fatigued divine soul relaxed completely.

Huan Yao’s expression remained unchanged. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, he picked up his sword, walked toward the bride, and took the fingertips that were extended toward him.

His fingers were enveloped in a warm palm. Shi Li paused.

He lowered his gaze to look at the other’s wedding boots from under his head covering, a flicker of annoyance rising in his heart.

Just follow along. Why hold hands with a ghost?

He’s really treating himself like a groom.

In the bridal chamber, the wedding candles burned with a faint, eerie light.

After screeching their congratulations, the ghost attendants licked their lips with blood-red tongues, gave the two figures in the room a bizarre smile, and retreated.

The room fell silent. Shi Li noiselessly gripped the sword at his waist.

He hadn’t yet removed his head covering, but a murderous aura was already emanating from him.

Sometimes, fate was just that clever. He had lost his sword, and the mystic realm immediately sent him one a pure, clean, bonded sword from three hundred years ago.

He would kill its master and claim it for himself.

Before that… Shi Li wiggled the hand that was being held and spoke, “How much longer are you going to hold on?”

It was now the sixth year of the Star Epoch. The one before him should be the Shi Li from three hundred years ago.

Shi Li couldn’t for the life of him figure out what state of mind his three-hundred-years-ago self was in to walk all this way holding hands with a mystic realm demon.

The other person didn’t speak, but his wedding boots moved, bringing him a step closer.

Shi Li gripped the hilt of his sword, his arm tensing. The instant the broken sword left its sheath, his hand was yanked, and he fell forward into a warm embrace.

“…?”

It was cold outside. The moment Huan Yao entered, he had gathered spiritual light to warm himself up. Seeing that they were alone, he decided it was finally time for a hug.

This hug completely stunned Shi Li. His hand was resting on the other’s waist, on the cool hilt of a sword.

Without thinking, he struck out with one palm toward the other’s chest and swiftly drew the sword with his other hand.

Suddenly, his hand felt light. The longsword, which had been quite heavy, dissolved into wisps of spiritual light and melted back into the other’s sheath.

Shi Li froze, then abruptly tore off his head covering to look at the person before him.

He came face to face with a pair of completely unruffled eyes.

It was actually Huan Yao and the fake Hua Jing he had manifested.

Shi Li’s face darkened. He certainly didn’t remember letting Huan Yao into the mystic realm back then.

He tossed the head covering to the floor, strode over, and let his gaze linger on Huan Yao’s face for a moment before asking, “You came by yourself?”

Huan Yao gave a slight nod, then raised a hand to touch the spot on his chest that had just been struck.

In the past, Shi Li would have long since rushed over in distress to see if he was hurt. The Young Lord had just acquired Huan Yao, who could take human form, and was at the height of doting on him.

Huan Yao waited quietly, but all he received was a low sneer.

Shi Li sat down at the table and tapped it, gesturing for him to come over. “Pour the wine.”

Huan Yao approached, but he was puzzled by this command. In Huan Yao’s understanding, it should be Shi Li pouring the wine and feeding it to him.

If he refused to drink, Shi Li would even have to coax him.

Seeing him remain still, Shi Li repeated patiently, “Pour the wine.”

Huan Yao looked at the wine vessel, then back at him. Just as Shi Li was about to lose his patience, he shook his head.

Then, mimicking Shi Li, he sat down in the other chair and tapped his fingers on the table.

Shi Li was taken aback. “You want me to pour for you?”

Huan Yao nodded.

“Starting to be disobedient already?” he wondered, rising to his feet as if talking to himself. He stood before Huan Yao and leaned down to pinch one of his cheeks. “Does he know you entered the mystic realm by yourself?”

Their eyes met. Huan Yao also reached out, pinched one of Shi Li’s cheeks, and even gave it a little tug.

“…”

Shi Li released his hand and patted his face. “Idiot.”

Huan Yao frowned. His hand reached for Shi Li’s waist, grabbing the sword hidden beneath the wedding robes.

Shi Li didn’t move, looking down at his hand. “Interested? Take it off and have a look.”

The sword was unfastened. Its jet-black scabbard was engraved with ornate and complex patterns, but because of the uncleaned bloodstains on it, it exuded a grim, murderous aura.

Huan Yao found it unclean, yet he couldn’t help but admire it. This, he thought, must be the treasure Shi Li obtained from the mystic realm. The blood on it was from killing ghosts.

Shi Li sat back down, poured himself a cup of wine, and asked Huan Yao, “How does this sword compare to Hua Jing?”

Huan Yao had been hesitant at first, but when he gripped the hilt and found that he had drawn a broken sword, he saw that the blood on the fractured blade was even darker. Fresh blood mixed with old stains; who knew how long it had been since it was properly wiped. Just looking at it, one could almost smell the stench of blood.

He tossed it away with a heavy hand, sending both sword and scabbard clattering to the floor.

What was this thing, daring to compare itself to Hua Jing?

The cold metal hit the floor with a dull thud. Shi Li’s expression instantly turned grim. His pupils darkened as he stared intently at Huan Yao’s face.

“Not as good as Hua Jing?”

Huan Yao’s eyes were placid, but his face held a look of pride. He unfastened the silver sword from his own waist and placed it on the table. The difference in value was self-evident.

With a wave of his hand, Shi Li swept Hua Jing to the floor as well.

Then, before Huan Yao could react, he stood up and flipped the entire table. The wedding candles, fruits, and wine cups all crashed to the ground, burying the two swords on the floor beneath the debris.

He grabbed Huan Yao and pulled him close. With their identical faces facing each other, Shi Li seized him by the throat and sneered, “It’s not as good as Hua Jing. Since you could sneak out, why didn’t you bring Hua Jing to me? You’re disobedient anyway. He has no idea where you go or what you do.”

“Tell me, if you were to die right here, right now, would he even find out?”

With his throat constricted, Huan Yao’s breathing suddenly became difficult. He grabbed at Shi Li’s hand but couldn’t receive any emotional signals from him, which only confused him more.

Shi Li didn’t seem angry, yet the hand on his throat was trembling. This sent the divine soul within Huan Yao into a state of disarray.

He pondered for a long time before arriving at what he believed to be the most logical conclusion.

Shi Li was afraid.

The mystic realm was full of ugly, vicious demons. Just like countless times in the past, he was afraid.

And so, the disoriented divine soul calmed down. Also, just like countless times in the past, it gently embraced him.

The hand clutching his neck suddenly loosened.

Shi Li’s arms wrapped around his waist almost desperately. He buried his face in the crook of Huan Yao’s neck and didn’t move, only the sound of his trembling breaths escaping.

He was being held so tightly, as if all his emotions were being entrusted to this tiny sliver of a divine soul. Huan Yao knew his own limits and was thrown into a fluster.

He couldn’t conjure a piece of candy like Shi Li could, but he still wanted to soothe him. This was a monumental challenge.

When he ate candy, Shi Li would just watch him with a smile, never touching it himself. The cold, great senior of the sword sect never ate sweets.

After growing up, he had gradually blurred all his own preferences. All his actions were for others to see. Fear was hidden away, anger was hidden away anything that would make his silver robes seem undignified was hidden away.

He only needed to hold a sword and stand there, an object for others to depict and admire.

If only he had a piece of candy.

Huan Yao racked his brain and could only think of himself from last night, after he had eaten candy.

So he cupped Shi Li’s head, gazed into those somewhat dim eyes, and leaned down to kiss him.

Huan Yao’s kiss was still clumsy. Shi Li had never taught him; they had only ever gently hooked their fingers together.

But the Shi Li, who came to his senses unexpectedly pushed him down in return. The moment his lips were pried open, he drove his tongue inside, as skilled as if they had kissed countless times.

People in wedding robes always seemed to end up on the wedding bed. They stumbled, knocking over chairs and shattering vases.

Huan Yao couldn’t withstand such a fierce kiss. He was only a tiny sliver of a divine soul, yet he was suddenly entangled in a tender net woven from a thousand threads of affection.

The tremors in his mind brought a tingling that spread from within his body to the outside. He sank back into the soft bed. Shi Li leaned over him, slowly undoing his sash. Those deep, dark eyes gazed at him, as if in the next moment, he would be devoured completely.

Far away in the Xuanqing Sect, Shi Li had been hunched over his desk all night, transcribing sword forms. He was just one stroke from finishing when a sudden jolt ran through his entire body, leaving a long streak of ink on the paper.

He sat motionless, but the knuckles of his brush-holding hand had turned white. A strange look gradually surfaced in his eyes.

For a moment, a thousand waves crashed upon the shores of his sea of consciousness. Then, just as suddenly, it was filled with tender affection, a soft drizzle of rain, a flower bursting open in a fire, snow blowing wildly from beyond the heavens. Everything that could possibly disturb his soul surged forth at once.

This commotion was all but screaming in his ear.

His divine soul, while outside, was stirred with passion.