After The Simp Sealed His Heart With Cement, The Demon Lord Immediately Fell In Love! - Chapter 17

Wen Muli returned to his homeland, rebuilt the Qiankun Sect, and became its leader. He never gave up on seeking the enemies who had slaughtered his parents and kin, nor did he cease his search for Hao Yeshu, even though they all knew the fragile Hao Yeshu could not possibly have survived the enemy’s grasp.

Not long after the Qiankun Sect began publicly recruiting disciples again, they suddenly received a clue regarding Hao Yeshu’s whereabouts. When they found him, his situation was utterly tragic. He was in a dilapidated, crumbling thatched hut, blind in both eyes, forced to earn a living through the most degrading services for men.

That day, Wen Muli completely lost his mind. He dismembered the man who had defiled Hao Yeshu into pieces, yet even that was not enough to satiate his hatred. Meanwhile, Hao Yeshu huddled on the filthy bedding, shivering violently. Su Mo merely watched him silently, his eyes brimming with distrust and scrutiny.

Wen Muli knelt beside Hao Yeshu, his trembling hands reaching out to hold him. The latter shrieked in terror, kowtowing repeatedly and begging him to spare his life. With bloodshot eyes, Wen Muli pulled the terrified man into his embrace, sobbing, “Yeshu, it is me. I am sorry, I came too late.”

“Muli, Muli, is it really you? Sob, why did you take so long to come!” Hao Yeshu clung tightly to his neck, weeping bitterly.

Before his emotions could settle, Su Mo stepped forward with a hostile gaze, initiating a confrontation: “How did you survive? Given the enemy’s cruelty, it is impossible that they would have let you live!”

“I do not know. After you left, that man fed me a pill. I only felt my internal organs being twisted in agony, and then I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I found myself in a mass grave. My eyes were gone, and my spiritual roots were damaged by the poison, making it impossible for me to cultivate ever again.”

That was Hao Yeshu’s explanation. Su Mo wanted to ask more, but he was interrupted by an enraged Wen Muli.

“Enough, Su Mo. He is my lover, not a criminal! He has suffered so much for my sake, yet you still persist in suspecting him!”

“I do not wish to suspect him, but do you not find the timing of his reappearance far too coincidental?”

Su Mo found himself unable to argue effectively. However, the Wen Muli of that time could not listen to reason. He knew there were problems with the timing of Hao Yeshu’s return, but his internal guilt made him unwilling to delve deeper. They brought him back to the Qiankun Sect. After a diagnosis by the divine doctor Mo Xiyuan, it was confirmed that Hao Yeshu indeed had residual poison in his body. Due to that toxin, his body remained frail, and his cultivation had made no progress in fifty years, remaining stuck at the Foundation Establishment stage. With this, the suspicions against Hao Yeshu were thoroughly scrubbed clean.

Wen Muli took a solemn oath that he would cure him. Mo Xiyuan could resolve the residual poison, but he had no way to repair damaged spiritual roots; they would have to be replaced. To perform such a transplant, they required either dragon spiritual roots or compatible fusion spiritual roots. Since the ancient wars, countless divine beasts had perished or gone extinct. There were no dragons left in the cultivation world, so where could they find dragon spiritual roots? Fusion roots were within reach, but Wen Muli was not vicious enough to harm the brother who had lived and died by his side just to save his lover. Yet, without a transplant, Hao Yeshu’s lifespan would inevitably come to an end.

For the next few years, Wen Muli focused all his energy on finding the dragon race. Hard work paid off, and he finally received news of the dragons. Though he could not verify the truth, he decided to risk his life for his lover’s sake. Su Mo, naturally unwilling to let him go alone, followed him without hesitation.

This journey nearly cost Su Mo his life. It was during this trip that five jagged claw marks were carved into his face, wounds that would never heal. Legends stated that Mount Wanlong was once the dragon race’s territory. Despite their extinction, no cultivator dared approach it easily, for it was guarded by a powerful beast of unfathomable cultivation. No one had ever returned alive from Mount Wanlong.

Only through firsthand experience did they understand the terror of the place. They were attacked by countless spirit beasts before they even reached the deep heart of the mountain. These were not ordinary beasts but ancient monsters that had lived for thousands of years, leveled around the eighteenth tier, a level of power equivalent to a Nascent Soul powerhouse. At that time, Su Mo and Wen Muli were only at the late stage of the Nascent Soul realm.

After a narrow escape from death, slaying countless beasts and exhausting their spiritual energy, they finally reached the dragon’s lair. They did indeed see a dragon egg, but with it came a greater danger. The guardian of the egg was a twenty-second-tier beast, a Tribulation Transcending powerhouse only one step away from ascension. If they acted rashly, they would not even be enough to fill the beast’s teeth.

The final decision was to use strategy. Su Mo would lure the beast away, while Wen Muli would steal the egg. The plan was perfect, but they never anticipated that the beast would sense Wen Muli touching the egg and rush back at all costs. The beast and Wen Muli began to battle on the edge of a steep cliff. The beast feared damaging the egg and did not strike with full force, while Wen Muli, driven by the determination to sacrifice his life, fought with brutal, lethal intent, striking at the beast’s vital points.

Enraged, the beast struck out with its claw. Su Mo threw himself in the way to block the strike, his face completely ruined, his agonizing screams echoing across the heavens. Wen Muli seized the opportunity, piercing the beast’s abdomen with his sword. The beast let out a shrill cry, its demonic aura surging and blowing both men away with its shockwave. Su Mo flew over a hundred meters, smashing through countless ancient trees before coming to a stop. Wen Muli was even less fortunate, flying directly off the cliff and falling.

At the critical moment, he grabbed a dead branch on the cliffside, but the dragon egg in his hand was not so lucky, falling into the abyss. The beast, unable to fly, chose to plummet off the cliff as well to save its egg. In the end, both sides were left broken and battered; neither gained any advantage.

When Wen Muli woke up, he was back at the Qiankun Sect. At the time, he felt safe the moment he opened his eyes. However, now, viewing the scene through the Memory Stone, he finally saw the truth: it was a blood-soaked Su Mo, enduring excruciating pain, who had used every ounce of his strength to rescue him. Seeing him on the brink of death, Su Mo had ignored his own recovery and carried him home. Along the way, they were ambushed by enemies again.

Su Mo had slain countless foes to bring the unconscious Wen Muli back to the sect, while he himself had been left with old wounds exacerbated by new ones. Because he had missed the window for the best treatment, the toxins from the beast had settled deep into Su Mo’s body. The claw marks on his face would never heal.

Having lost the last dragon egg in the world, Wen Muli was filled with self-reproach. He did not even bother to check on Su Mo before immediately launching a new plan. He wanted to become the Emperor of the cultivation realm! Only a powerhouse could protect everything around him. Only a powerhouse could obtain everything he desired. Only by becoming the Emperor could he use that special status to find fusion spiritual roots for his lover, something other than Su Mo’s own.