Don't Pick Up Disciples Randomly by the Roadside - Chapter 15

Shen Chunyi flung out a handful of cross-shaped throwing darts, but the head was bouncing around with no discernible pattern—one moment crashing into a wall, the next slamming onto the ground. The blades merely sliced through a few vines and sheared off half its face—yet it could still move freely!

He could only be grateful it was the dead of night, with no mortal around to witness such a bizarre scene: a human head sprouting vines, hopping and tumbling chaotically as it fled. Shen Chunyi couldn’t help worrying that the next time it crashed into a wall or the ground, it might burst open, splattering brains everywhere and turning into an unidentifiable mess oozing into the cracks of the pavement, impossible to scrape out.

Unlike the capital, which never slept, the streets and alleys here were utterly silent at this hour. Only autumn crickets chirped intermittently, but even they fell silent when the monster thumped past—a testament to how terrifying it was.

Shen Chunyi didn’t know the exact time, but after a prolonged skirmish and chase, he estimated it was nearly the hour. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he spotted a flickering flame in the distance, moving along the street. Squinting, he saw a night watchman passing by with a lantern, dragging out his calls as he struck his wooden clapper, clearly unaware of the commotion nearby.

He silently prayed the wretched thing wouldn’t bounce toward the unfortunate watchman. If it scared the poor man into a heart attack and sudden death, it would be a true tragedy. But as luck would have it, the hideous creature seemed fascinated by the light and leaped toward it like an arrow.

Shen Chunyi’s heart sank. Sure enough, the old watchman, seeing Shen Chunyi’s white-robed figure darting under the moonlight, mistook him for an immortal descending to earth and strained to get a better look. Just then, the flower-demon’s head flew right past his face. Up close, the watchman finally saw that the “immortal” was chasing a grassy ball—which was, in fact, a human head with distinct features. He let out a horrified scream, slumped against the wall, and lost consciousness.

Shen Chunyi landed with his sword drawn and checked the watchman’s neck pulse. It was strong and steady, confirming he had only fainted from fright, not died. Shen Chunyi breathed a sigh of relief. He dragged the poor watchman to the wall, propped him up against it, and then resumed his pursuit. Though the moonlight was bright, the alley walls cast deep shadows.

Fortunately, the long street was empty enough not to hinder his movements. Shaking his sleeves, Shen Chunyi timed his move as the creature brushed past a narrow corner of the alley. With another flick of his sleeve, a volley of cross-darts shot out, forcing the thing onto a rooftop. He leaped up, his Jixue Sword blazing with silver light, and brought it down in a decisive slash!

The head was cleaved cleanly in two. Blood and brain matter splattered together, staining his white robe. Moreover, due to the potent toxicity of his spiritual power, both halves of the severed head were constricted by ghastly purplish-black blood vessels, twisting grotesquely as they tumbled down opposite sides of the roof. A closer look revealed the eyeballs still trembling faintly. How hideous. How utterly hideous.

Shen Chunyi landed lightly on the eaves, sword in one hand, watching the two halves of the head fall separately. He wiped the raw blood spattered on his cheek, only to smear it further. Giving up, he left it as it was.

With the night watchman’s earlier mishap as a cautionary tale, Shen Chunyi knew he couldn’t just leave these two halves lying around. If anyone got up in the middle of the night and stumbled upon such a sight, they wouldn’t need to finish their nightly business—they’d be waiting for dawn to change their trousers.

There was, however, a silver lining: both halves of the head still had what could be called hair. Shen Chunyi grabbed the hair, holding the two halves together in one hand while gripping his sword in the other. Not forgetting to send a message talisman flying into the distance, he added:

“Find Shi Yun.”

Xuan Shuangxu’s reply came swiftly, his tone as steady as ever, as if nothing bizarre that had happened tonight was worth batting an eye at:

“Does Master suspect her?”

Holding the severed head in one hand, Shen Chunyi stood atop the roof ridge. Blood or brain matter dripped continuously, pattering against the eaves before sliding down the blue tiles. To the ear alone, it might have been mistaken for the gentle sound of rain falling on stone.

His other hand held the Jixue Sword. He glanced up at the hanging moon, then lowered his gaze and murmured softly,

“No.”

He added, “It’s not her. But it’s absolutely connected to her.”

Xuan Shuangxu didn’t respond further. Shen Chunyi knew he must have gone to work and said nothing more, turning to rush toward the Zhao residence. The closer he got to the Zhao estate, the more the eerie, demonic aura thickened, further confirming the suspicion that had already taken root in his mind with near certainty.

Leaping between rooftops, he saw the Zhao residence from afar, no longer the imposing sight it had been in daylight. Instead, it was shrouded in a sinister, unsettling atmosphere. Up close, he discovered that the once-pristine courtyard walls were now twisted and overrun with dead vines, as if trapped within a cage of withered vegetation, suffocating and breathless.

Shen Chunyi approached with his sword drawn, but the vines didn’t budge an inch despite his vibrant spiritual energy and yang aura. Upon closer inspection, he realized these vines were entirely different from those at the Jiaoyun Pavilion. The ones there were alive, writhing and feeding on flesh and blood, but here, they were all dead. Shen Chunyi had never witnessed the effects of such a curse firsthand and could only guess that the demon’s true form had long since drained the lifeblood through these vines and fled.

These lifeless vines crumbled easily under his sword, falling away in large clumps. The courtyard was a tangled mess of vines, leaving no place to step. Shen Chunyi quickly cleared the side rooms, finding no living souls. A more thorough search revealed only a twisted, shrunken figure on a bed, resembling dried beef, bones protruding, eyes sunken deep. It looked like gnarled old wood or withered vines, yet it still clung to life—barely. This tenuous survivor sensed someone’s presence and twitched slightly, as if trying to call for help or simply lift its head. But after that faint movement, there was nothing more.

Shen Chunyi couldn’t tell if this person was alive or dead, but even if they were still breathing, they were beyond saving. Seeing this, he knew there was no need to keep cutting. Every living soul in the Zhao residence was likely in the same state.

He sighed, his heart a mix of emotions, hesitating over whether to grant this person a merciful end when he received a message talisman from the youth. It contained only three concise words:

“Found her.”

Shen Chunyi once had a good grasp of his disciple’s temperament, but now he wasn’t so sure. Hearing Xuan Shuangxu speak so tersely, he genuinely feared the young man might lose control and accidentally cause serious harm. After a moment of hesitation, he asked in return,

“Dead or alive?”

A hint of emotion finally colored Xuan Shuangxu’s voice as he replied, puzzled,

“Does Master want her dead? That can be arranged.”

Shen Chunyi hurriedly said, “No, no, no. Keep an eye on her. I’ll be right back.”

In the brief exchange between Shen Chunyi and his disciple, the man had already breathed his last. His death was gruesome—eyes wide open, a clear case of dying with unresolved grievances.

Shen Chunyi sheathed his sword and closed the man’s eyes before turning to head toward the location from which the youth had sent the message. Halfway there, he suddenly remembered that twin flowers might share a connection. Earlier, the flower demon from Jiaoyun Tower had rushed straight to the Zhao residence, eager to reunite with its sibling. By the same logic, if they reversed the approach, the other flower demon might follow the scent to find the remains of this one. If that flower demon wasn’t too clever, they could simply wait with the corpse and ambush it.

With this thought, he turned back toward Jiaoyun Tower.

The tower remained eerily silent. The youth had blasted the artificial rockery and pond to pieces, and the sprawling vines had all withered and stiffened, lying on the ground like coarse ropes. Strangely, no one had come out to investigate. Whether they were still trembling from the narrow escape or had not survived to tremble at all—lacking even a heart to palpitate—was unclear.

The flower demon lay haphazardly on the main hall floor, its once vibrant red skin now tinged with a lifeless brownish hue, its blood long gone cold. Shen Chunyi slung his sword across his back, then picked up the head with one hand and the body with the other, carrying the flower demon’s remains as he went to meet Xuan Shuangxu.

The location Xuan Shuangxu had indicated was a rather elegant inn, not far from the city center. The inn’s courtyard was spacious, with a small stream gently flowing through it. The banks were lined with smooth bluish-white pebbles, creating a refined and picturesque scene.

Shen Chunyi couldn’t help but think Shi Yun had nerves of steel. After causing such a major incident, instead of fleeing in fear overnight, she had chosen to stay in this charming little inn—truly a display of leisurely composure.

He lightly vaulted over the inn’s courtyard wall and landed silently on the ground. Fortunately, the thing he carried had long since drained of all fluids and blood, sparing the pristine bluish-white pebbles from any stains and saving him the trouble of paying a cleaning fee later. The guest building the youth had pointed to was on the eastern side of the courtyard. Shen Chunyi, dragging his burdens in both hands, spun around and stepped onto the walkway.

However, he truly had no free hands to open the door. Standing before it for a brief moment of hesitation, he abruptly raised a foot and kicked it open with a bang!

“Thud—”

Inside the room, two people sat facing each other, expressionless and silent. At the round table, facing the door, was Xuan Shuangxu, lounging sideways in his chair, utterly bored, idly playing with a pebble—likely picked up from the courtyard below—gently grinding it against his fingernails. Across the table, with her back to the door, sat Shi Yun, sitting upright with both hands properly placed on her knees, staring blankly at the candle flame, lost in thought.

The two had little to discuss, and the atmosphere in the room was so heavy it could drip water. Hearing the door being kicked open, they both turned their heads in unison. Seeing it was Shen Chunyi, they spoke up in surprise and confusion.

Xuan Shuangxu exclaimed in astonishment,

“Master!”

Shi Yun questioned in doubt, “Senior Brother?”

To be honest, Shen Chunyi was in quite a sorry state at the moment. Half of his body was stained with the blood of the flower demon’s true form, while the other half was splattered with the yellow-green mucus from when he had earlier hacked through the vines. All of it was splashed across his white robes, and even the side of his face hadn’t been spared. With no free hands to wipe it off, Shen Chunyi simply raised his right shoulder and rubbed it against his cheek.

Seeing Shen Chunyi drenched in blood, Xuan Shuangxu was startled and immediately stood up.

“How did you end up like this?” he asked.

Shen Chunyi dragged the object in his hands to the wall, tossed it aside, and shook the blood off his hands.

“It’s fine. It’s not my blood.”

Xuan Shuangxu completely ignored his words and, without any concern for the bloodstains, pulled Shen Chunyi to sit at the round table. He stripped off Shen Chunyi’s outer robe and tossed it aside, then began carefully examining him from the wrists upward, checking for any injuries.

Shen Chunyi sat there motionless, letting him handle him however he pleased, as if it were a familiar routine. Shi Yun, sitting across from the two of them, felt as though his own forehead was shining brightly, making him quite uncomfortable.

“I’m still here, you know.”

Xuan Shuangxu didn’t even bother to spare him a glance.

“Then get lost.”

Shen Chunyi wanted to smack him on the head but was afraid of dirtying his dark hair with his blood-stained hands. Instead, he said,

“Don’t speak to your uncle like that.”

Xuan Shuangxu didn’t respond. After confirming that Shen Chunyi was indeed uninjured, he withdrew his hands, walked over to the wall to pick up the discarded outer robe, folded it neatly, and then pushed the door open and left.

Shen Chunyi had no mind to care about where he was going. He slapped the table and got straight to the point.

“I have a few questions for you.”

Shi Yun hummed in acknowledgment.

Support