He Transmigrated Into The Body Of A Useless Little Disciple, Whose Innermost Thoughts Were Overheard By Demonic Master! - Chapter 13

Seeing the solemnity on Lin Mingsi’s face, Xie Rong tapped the chest of the puppet and smiled, saying, “This is a gift from Master to help me practice my sword techniques. This puppet is incredibly skilled; it parries and counters every move, and I honestly cannot defeat it.”

“When I first saw it, I thought it might have been crafted from a corpse and was quite startled. But later, during our spar, I saw its limbs shimmering with a metallic luster and realized I had been overthinking.”

Seeing the lingering fear in Xie Rong’s eyes, Lin Mingsi wondered why their Master would give Xie Rong a puppet of the type often used by demonic cultivators. He asked softly, “If I told you that this puppet was indeed crafted from a corpse, how would you feel?”

Xie Rong’s brows furrowed tightly, and he replied earnestly, “Then I would probably never bring it out again.”

His conviction that the deceased should be treated with respect was deeply ingrained. No matter who they were, once dead, they should be laid to rest, and their remains should not be disturbed. The cultivation world was vastly different from his modern life; here, the strong reigned supreme, and people believed in their own power rather than fate. If he spoke of respecting the dead, others might only laugh, questioning why the dead should be granted such importance.

Xie Rong mused that, not being a native of this world, he could not bring himself to use a human puppet with a clear conscience. Seeing Lin Mingsi looking at him with a slightly strange expression, his heart skipped a beat. He leaned in closer and whispered, “Senior Brother, tell me the truth. Is this puppet…”

Lin Mingsi, not understanding why Xie Rong felt such aversion, nodded gently. “It is just as you suspect. But in truth, this is nothing out of the ordinary; the craft of puppetry is neither inherently good nor evil. Since you did not create it yourself and you are cultivating under Master, no one would dare to criticize you, especially since it was Master’s own gift.”

Upon receiving confirmation, Xie Rong drew a sharp breath. Since arriving in the cultivation world, he had never intended to force his modern sensibilities onto others, knowing it would be both impossible and foolish. He did not want to change the people around him, but he could not change himself, either.

He hurriedly put the puppet away, his emotions complex. Influenced by horror movies from his childhood, he was terrified of ghosts and spirits. The thought of a corpse sitting in his storage space made him feel faint, and the fact that he was keeping a straight face was a testament to his self-control.

Seeing Xie Rong’s strained smile, Lin Mingsi asked curiously, “Little Junior Brother, are you afraid of corpses?”

Xie Rong gave a stiff, awkward smile and spoke in a weak voice, “I knew I could not hide it from you, Senior Brother. I do not know why, but I have a deep fear of corpses and an even greater fear of killing.”

Back in his previous life, he had been timid and had never even slaughtered a fish, let alone anything larger. Lin Mingsi did not know what to make of this condition, so he advised softly, “That will not do. The cultivation world is never safe. One day, you will have to leave Snow Cloud Peak to gain experience. If you do not kill others, they will kill you.”

The Xuan Tian Sect had a mandatory rule: once a disciple reached the Golden Core stage, they had ten years to complete a trial mission. Xie Rong knew that Lin Mingsi’s own trial had involved finding an incredibly rare herb, a task that had taken him nearly eighty years to complete. Now that Lin Mingsi had reached the Nascent Soul stage, he had another mission. Xie Rong had only a lifespan of two hundred years; he was not sure he would still be here when his Senior Brother returned.

Sighing with melancholy, Xie Rong smiled at Lin Mingsi, “I am still a long way from reaching the Golden Core stage.” In truth, he did not even believe he could reach it at all.

That evening, Xie Rong returned to Xuan Yue’s quarters. After a moment of hesitation, he stood outside the door and bowed, “Master, I am here.”

Master travels throughout the world, so it is not strange that he possesses a puppet used by demonic cultivators; it is not like he refined it himself. Besides, a puppet is just a tool. Whether it is evil or not depends on the user, not the tool.

Sigh, I have been trying to convince myself all day, but I still cannot bring myself to practice with it. The thought of it being a corpse makes my hair stand on end. Yet, if I refuse to use such a great sparring partner because I am squeamish, will Master think there is something wrong with me? Am I being too sensitive? It is just a corpse. There is no law against crafting puppets in the cultivation world.

Inside the room, Xuan Yue’s brows furrowed slightly. Xie Rong’s inner monologue buzzed in his ears like a mosquito. It was just a puppet; to be so conflicted over such a trivial thing proved just how sheltered the boy was. If he had seen the true nature of the world, he would not be so easily unsettled.

Xuan Yue recalled his own youth. At only six years old, he had dealt with a servant who tried to harm him and buried the body beneath his bed, where it kept him company for years. Even then, he had been far more cold-blooded than this version of Xie Rong.

Xuan Yue tossed a jade token to Xie Rong through the door, his voice cold. “This is the token to open the array at the bottom of Ice Moon Lake. Go there and refine your body.”

Xie Rong returned to his room with the token. Relieved that he did not have to practice sword forms outside, he knew he could not hide his fear of the puppet from Xuan Yue much longer.

That night, Xie Rong practiced until exhaustion overcame him, falling asleep on his pillow without even realizing it. Waking up the next day, he sat in a daze, slapping his forehead in frustration.

It is over. I fell asleep again. If Master asks how my cultivation went, what am I supposed to say? Forget it, I will just tell the truth. Master is at the Mahayana stage; lying to him is just digging my own grave. I would rather be a lazy, unmotivated disciple than a liar.

After leaving his room, Xie Rong checked Xuan Yue’s door. Seeing the array still active and hearing no summons, he slipped away quietly.

Once Xie Rong was gone, Xuan Yue opened his eyes. With Xie Rong helping to suppress the demonic energy in his body, his cultivation speed was hundreds of times faster than usual. One night of practice was equivalent to months of progress. But the power gain was not what he valued most; it was the clarity of his soul as the demonic energy subsided. Problems that had long stumped him suddenly became clear, as if he were in a state of enlightenment.

About an hour after Xie Rong left, the demonic energy began to stir, feeling like venomous ants gnawing at his flesh. He had grown accustomed to this pain, yet now he found it detestable. Reason warned him not to rely too heavily on Xie Rong. It was more important to figure out why the boy could suppress the Demonic Bone.

Xie Rong went to Ice Moon Lake for body refinement. Even with the array acting as a buffer, he could only last an hour in the lake.

That night, as Xie Rong drifted into a deep sleep, Xuan Yue approached his bedside without a sound. He raised an eyebrow as a bead of blood seeped from Xie Rong’s fingertip and hovered in the air. After examining it, Xuan Yue’s brow knit. No matter how many times he scanned him with divine sense, Xie Rong appeared to be a completely ordinary human: normal body, normal sea of consciousness, normal meridians, and normal bones.

Xuan Yue suspected the suppression of the Demonic Bone was related to that unknown soul contract. Having found no mention of it in any texts, he suspected it was an ancient, lost form of contract.

He scanned Xie Rong again, still finding nothing. Occasionally, he wondered if he was merely suffering from qi deviation—if the contract was just a hallucination. But it seemed absurd to doubt his own reality after thousands of years of cultivation, having reached the Mahayana stage.

He watched the boy sleep. Xie Rong’s soul aura was stable; usually, only those who were severely injured or possessed special traits required sleep. Most cultivators did not feel tired. Xie Rong was truly different.

As time passed, Xuan Yue reached out, wanting to touch Xie Rong, but his expression flickered, and he pulled his hand back, retreating to his own room. Simply being near the boy allowed him to enjoy the dormancy of the demonic energy. If he were to touch him, the energy might be suppressed entirely, and he feared he would become addicted to that sensation. Reason told him not to touch the boy; there was an ominous, indefinable feeling in his heart.

While most cultivators entered a state where they lost track of time during meditation, Xie Rong followed the rising and setting of the sun, like a mortal.

Initially, Xie Rong had worried that Xuan Yue would be disappointed in his lack of progress, but those fears proved groundless. Xuan Yue did not bother him while meditating; sometimes, they would not see each other for three years at a time. Xie Rong lived near him for nearly a decade, and he could count on his fingers the number of times he had actually seen Xuan Yue.

Though Xuan Yue rarely appeared, he was always watching. After nearly a decade, he noticed an abnormality in Xie Rong’s constitution. Xie Rong had received many gifts during the Ceremony of Congratulations, mostly spiritual fruits and food. He had consumed them all, yet despite the massive amount of spiritual energy he should have absorbed—enough to push even a pig to the Golden Core stage—Xie Rong showed no signs of breaking through.

Whenever Xie Rong ate, Xuan Yue observed him. He noticed that only a tiny fraction of the energy converted into spiritual power in the Dantian; the rest went into nourishing the flesh. Xie Rong’s body was like a bottomless pit, absorbing energy in a way that usually required specific, advanced techniques. Yet, it was clear that Xie Rong was using no such techniques; he likely did not even realize his body was consuming the energy.

There was nothing special about Xie Rong’s constitution; he was just an ordinary person. And yet, this only added to the mystery. Xuan Yue focused his attention even more intently on the boy.

One day, Lin Mingsi sought Xie Rong out. “Little Junior Brother, I am leaving the sect to complete my trial mission.”

Lin Mingsi had reached the Nascent Soul stage over a decade ago; his cultivation was stable, and he could no longer delay his mission.