[Quick Transmigration] The Stunning Villain Trains His Dog Online - Chapter 10

Sharing the exact same confusion as the protagonist, 152 asked: You gave the Rebirth Lotus to him, what are you going to do yourself?

The tone of confusion carried an unconscious dissatisfaction and urgency.

Your questions seem exceptionally numerous today.

152: I was merely…

Shen Zaixin chuckled and interrupted it: I have other plans.

For someone on the verge of death with severe injuries, the Rebirth Lotus could bring a corpse back to life, and for cultivators below the Mahayana stage, it possessed the miraculous effect of washing the marrow and cleansing the tendons. Now that Xie Linfeng had swallowed and refined the Rebirth Lotus, he could be considered to have walked the main plotline for once, officially kicking off his road of soaring to the skies and slapping faces.

Sitting upon the supreme throne at the very top of the hall, Shen Zaixin appreciated the protagonist’s posture of painful curling due to the marrow-cleansing process, asking absentmindedly in his mind: I recall that five years later in the original worldline, the protagonist, hiding his strength, would escape the Demon Realm with Xiao Fang’s aid and claim first place as a rogue cultivator in the Qingyun Grand Tournament?

152 supplied: Indeed, Host, and he gained the appreciation of the Qingrong Immortal Ning Unchen, who imparted his uniquely created Qingrong Sword Technique to him.

Snow-white fingertips tapped rhythmically and methodically against the cold armrest. Within the vast and empty Demon Palace, the only sound for a time was the ragged and enduring gasp of the man below the steps.

Roughly an hour later, the pain racking Xie Linfeng’s body subsided. As he regulated his breath and regained his consciousness, his entire person felt as though he had been fished straight out of water.

He heard the sound of that person walking slowly down the steps, step by step, as though walking right over his heartstrings. Finally, a hint of red robe hem entered his lowered field of vision, the bloodstains upon it completely vanished.

This seat grants you five years of closed-door cultivation. At the Qingyun Grand Tournament five years from now, this seat expects to see you claim first place. Shen Zaixin tossed a storage ring overflowing with rare and isolated secret manuals right in front of him. You ought to know that the Demon Palace harbors no trash.

Xie Linfeng gripped the ring solemnly within his palm, his thoughts drifting off for a split second.

Word had it that the winner of the Qingyun Grand Tournament stood a chance to receive guidance from the Qingrong Immortal. Could that unfathomable Daoist cultivator be Ning Unchen? If so…

The Qingyun Grand Tournament, will you go to watch? he asked in a low voice.

Piercing straight through his intentions, Shen Zaixin reached down condescendingly to stroke the top of his head with a light chuckle: Naturally, from a place where you cannot see me.

Xie Linfeng’s gaze lit up, only for the realization that he would not be able to lay eyes on this person for five years to breed a deep, oppressive reluctance within his chest. If judged by human romance scripts, he had only just tumbled headfirst into love, yet was immediately forced into separation from his beloved.

Completely oblivious to the inner monologues of the person at his feet, Shen Zaixin formed a complex seal with his fingertips, causing a gateway of unknown destination to slowly materialize and take form.

This is an illusion array this seat created back during my own closed-door cultivation, Shen Zaixin said indifferently. On this exact day five years from now, this doorway will appear once more.

With that, he lowered his gaze to eye the protagonist, whose expression brimmed with grievance, adding with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes: Dog, do not let your master down.

Without waiting for the protagonist to voice any further questions, Shen Zaixin gave him a swift kick straight through the doorway, then extinguished the array’s exit. The grand hall returned to its expansive, hollow silence.

152: The protagonist was written out of the plot just like that, so brutally?

Wasting no time on lingering, Shen Zaixin turned around with an impassive expression and strode toward the Treasure Pavilion.

Gazing at the plaque above the main doors ahead, 152 questioned in confusion: Are not the things stored in here merely garbage you threw away?

It suddenly occurred to me that there is still one item I might find useful.

Catching sight of the Lord’s figure from afar, the Demon Palace acolytes guarding the gates hurriedly dropped to one knee in respectful excitement: My Lord!

Mn. Shen Zaixin gave a faint acknowledgment. Before he even had a chance to push the doors open, a low, hoarse voice sounded from behind him.

My Lord.

He turned his head slightly to look. It was Yun Shi.

What is the Lord searching for? This subordinate can handle the errand.

Shen Zaixin had no intention of entertaining him, but catching sight of the youth’s heterochromatic eyes, an idea seemingly crossed his mind as he chuckled: The demons of the northern Wunian Sea previously offered a Jieming Ring capable of storing memories. This seat requires that one.

With those words, he casually scrutinized the youth’s composed and casual expression, detecting nothing out of the ordinary.

Please wait a moment, My Lord. Yun Shi spoke in a low voice, turned to push open the door, and stepped inside. His cold and desolate back always carried an indescribable air.

He did not wait long before the youth walked back out to stand before him, his head bowed perpetually at a precise, measured angle designed to ensure he never appeared rebellious.

Shen Zaixin accepted the ring from the youth’s palm. While toying with it, he cast an unfathomable gaze upon the docile figure before him before suddenly speaking: Ancient Records of Oddities records that heterochromatic eyes can reverse the past and divide time. Has Protector Yun ever tested this?

A trace of doubt surfaced in Yun Shi’s eyes as he replied in a low voice: This subordinate is incompetent; despite possessing heterochromatic eyes, they serve merely for the Lord’s appreciation.

No matter.

With that, the red robes fluttered away into the distance.

The youth remained rooted to the spot, his gaze trailing endlessly after the departing figure. A fleeting, complex ripple crossed his dead and icy dual pupils before settling instantly back into calm.

The emotion flashing through that single instant was far too complex and hopelessly tangled, rendering it entirely illegible. Perhaps owing to his heterochromia, the youth’s gaze invariably imparted a sense of fracture, as though peering forth from the span of a myriad past ages, withered, desolate, and profound.

Upon the Acacia tree beside the main hall of the Demon Palace, Shen Zaixin leaned lazily across a thick branch, tossing a silver-white ring up and down in his palm while his gaze drooped in absentminded contemplation.

A moment later, he sliced open his fingertip, allowing a single bead of blood to drop onto the ring and vanish within. The silver-white band began to glow with a crimson light that grew increasingly dazzling, as though absorbing some invisible energy.

152 could not resist chiming in with a reminder: Even if you bind it with a soul contract, once you suffer memory loss, you naturally will not remember the restrictions you placed yourself, rendering it utterly useless, no?

Besides, it simply could not fathom why someone would use a soul contract for a mere memory-storage ring. Could it possibly outperform a system’s data playback feature?

More importantly, with the system present, how could the Host possibly suffer memory loss?

Therefore, the restriction I set is that removing it will awaken the memories.

Sliding the ring slowly onto the index finger of his left hand, the band, which had just radiated an eerie glow, dimmed instantly, resembling nothing more than an unremarkable streak of silver across his skin.

Lifting his gaze to glance at the blood-tinted firmament, the corners of Shen Zaixin’s lips curved upward. Next up was the Qingyun Grand Tournament.

Five years later.

Within the silent and gorgeous palace, a violent surge of spiritual energy erupted abruptly. A moment later, a spatial teleportation portal materialized out of thin air at the center of the hall, and a tall man in cyan robes stepped slowly out from within. His features were sharp, fierce, and striking, having completely shed the naive green shell of his youth to reveal a cold, steady core.

The man scanned his surroundings, yet failed to spot the person he longed for. His expression dipped downward in unbidden disappointment. Despite their pact of a five-year promise, that person had not come to wait for him for even a single second.

Driven by an eagerness to see him, he abandoned further thought and strode directly toward the other’s bedchamber.

Reaching the exterior of the hall, he spotted two intertwined figures resting atop the Acacia tree in front of the steps from afar. The not-so-sturdy branches of the Acacia tree were bent downward under their combined weight.

A flash of exposed snow-white calf stood out with striking clarity.

Thank goodness it was merely an illusion, otherwise the branch would have snapped long ago!

Xie Linfeng sneered inwardly, harboring not an ounce of avoidance as he strode purposefully toward the Acacia tree. As he drew closer, the muffled sounds of suppressed breathing reached his ears.

The sourness and hatred boiling within his heart threatened to overflow. Throughout his five years of closed-door cultivation in the illusion, every single waking moment had been consumed by thoughts of that person’s name. Yet upon emerging from the secret realm, he was greeted by the sight of that man interlacing fingers with another male, engaging in the very same intimate acts they once shared!

152 forced its eyes open through sheer embarrassment, watching the hostility value skyrocket on the display panel as it stated numbly: Must you insist on provoking the protagonist right at this exact moment?

A small, customized welcome-back surprise for him.

152: It had never felt so utterly speechless in its entire existence. Serving as a system for all these years, it had never encountered a Host quite this shameless or a protagonist quite this wretched.

The flawless, snow-white fingertips gripped tightly onto the dark collar of the man before him. Following several breathless gasps, they relaxed abruptly, leaving the person to be caught weakly in the arms of the tall man, who shielded his flushed and blissful features from view to prevent outsiders from prying.

As his breathing gradually steadied, Shen Zaixin paid no heed to the fact that the man’s passion remained unresolved. Pushing lightly against the scorching chest with his palm, the man obeyed instantly, stepping back and carefully scooping him into his arms to leap smoothly down from the tree.

Only then did Xie Linfeng clearly take in the man’s face: handsome yet chillingly aloof, his brows and eyes shrouded in a ghostly aura. Yet toward that person, he displayed an extraordinary level of obedience and docility, behaving precisely like an obedient dog.

Had Shen Zaixin not once claimed that he only found disobedient dogs interesting? Why, then, was he engaging in romantic intimacy with a man utterly devoid of entertainment value?

Could his tastes have shifted over the course of five years?

Shen Zaixin, I have returned. A subtle, undisguised eagerness underlined the youth’s deep voice. Despite witnessing a scene that pushed his hatred to the brink, his joy upon seeing the person remained impossible to mask.

Mn. Shen Zaixin acknowledged him indifferently, his trailing voice still tinged with unspooled colors of passion. Slipping down from Yun Shi’s embrace, he casually smoothed out his rumpled garments, spared neither of the two men another glance, and walked away on his own accord.

The youth stood rooted to the spot with lowered eyes, the palms hanging at his sides clenched until the flesh was a bloody mess.

Not until the faint sound of falling leaves scraping across the ground reached his ears did he snap back to reality. Shifting his gaze toward the silently lingering man, whose lower garments still bore traces of unfulfilled desire while his gaze remained as lifeless and stagnant as still water, Xie Linfeng let out a scoff: Putting on an act.

Hearing the provocation, Yun Shi slowly turned his heterochromatic eyes to cast an indifferent glance his way.

Meeting that utterly ordinary gaze felt like tripping a switch, immediately triggering the dormant, extreme, bone-chilling agony of the frostbite curse he had long since learned to suppress, causing it to run riot through his veins once again.

Yet he was no longer the defenseless secondary branch scion of the Xie family he once was. Concealing every trace of his wretchedness behind a mask of unperturbed calm, he stared straight ahead.

Yet the man possessed a terrifying capacity for insight, seeing right through the facade he struggled to maintain: You are the same.