[Quick Transmigration] The Stunning Villain Trains His Dog Online - Chapter 8

“Ning Unchen, do you not even want to know why I wanted to kill you?”

Ning Unchen was silent for a long moment before speaking in a low voice: “I do not.”

Once certain truths are spoken aloud, there is no returning to the beginning. He did not want to.

“Yet I want you to know.” Shen Zaixin rose from the bed and walked slowly forward. The smile in his eyes was radiant, yet the dagger in his sleeve emitted a chilling red glow.

Seemingly infected by his brilliant smile, Ning Unchen’s pale lips also curved into a slight arc: “You are in such a hurry to kill me?”

Someone conjured entirely by an illusion would act like a puppet on strings. How could they possibly see through his intentions at a single glance unless this person was genuinely Ning Unchen.

Recalling the various signs within the illusion, every single one indicated that the master of the illusion was not him, but Ning Unchen.

After all, he himself would never harbor any lingering, unresolved feelings regarding the matter of falling into the demonic path and tumbling down the Abyssal Abyss.

The smile in Shen Zaixin’s eyes faded as he spoke emotionlessly, “Since the Qingrong Immortal has already awakened, it would be best to break this secret realm as soon as possible.”

With those words, he brushed past the Immortal Lord’s side, only to be abruptly caught by the wrist.

“Since you left, no one in the Canglan Sect has called me by my name.”

He actually caught a hint of entreaty in the man’s aloof tone, but so what? Shen Zaixin no longer wished to have any further entanglements with the Canglan Sect.

“If those old fossils of the Canglan Sect heard that their most heavily relied-upon disciple is entangled with a demonic cultivator, who knows how grief-stricken and indignant they would become.” Saying this, he tilted his head with a smile: “What, are you going to abandon the righteous path and enter my Demon Palace?”

Unsurprisingly, the man pressed his lips into a tight line and remained silent. Shen Zaixin impatiently snapped, “Let go.”

“This place is an illusion.”

Though Ning Unchen spoke out of nowhere, Shen Zaixin understood.

The trajectory inside the illusion, which contrasted with reality, represented the delusions that Ning Unchen dared not speak aloud in his heart. The illusion could not be broken simply because he had no desire to wake up at all.

He had spent hundreds of years sitting in solitary, restrained cultivation on Sword Peak; the illusion was nothing more than drinking poison to quench thirst. Yet the more he craved it, the harder it was to let go.

Shen Zaixin lowered his eyelids, his feather-like lashes shaking the golden morning light away while concealing the unfathomable thoughts in his eyes.

After a long while, he suddenly raised his head and smiled lightly, his dark pupils shimmering like water, much like the accumulated snow on the branches of the pine tree atop the Sword Testing Platform being melted by warm sunlight and finally dripping into his eyes.

Ning Unchen gazed in a daze, half-believing that everything had never happened, as if in the very next instant Changning would call him over to the courtyard to spar and see whose sword was faster.

A hand with distinct joints rested on his shoulder, as light as a feather, ready to ride the wind and scatter at any moment, impossible to grasp.

“Ning Unchen, do you like me?”

The tone was proud and elevated, its trailing ending intoxicating and moving just as it was in memory. Ning Unchen thought that the last time he had heard Changning speak seemed like a very long time ago.

He had acted as the Qingrong Immortal for the Canglan Sect and the common people for hundreds of years. Now, he wanted to follow his true intentions and play the role of Ning Unchen within the illusion.

Fingertips slid down from his shoulder, slowly tracing his fierce and aloof brows and eyes.

Shen Zaixin did not even expect an answer from him, as he was currently calculating another matter entirely.

This was not his first time entering the Huaxu Secret Realm, yet never before had he experienced a situation where two people shared the same illusion unless this illusion followed its master’s will and forcibly dragged others in.

In other words, the Huaxu Bell must be on Ning Unchen’s person.

Where could it be?

Before his hand could probe further downward, it was seized by the other person. The fingers wrapped around his wrist were cold and devoid of hesitation.

“Changning.”

Shen Zaixin lifted his eyelids to look. The man’s eyes seemed to hold a pool of melted snow water, reflecting the rosy clouds of dawn, possessing a trace of warmth after all.

Changning was the name Ning Unchen had given him when he first entered the Canglan Sect. Right now, it seemed only this person remained stubbornly unwilling to change it.

“Spar with me in swords one last time.”

Ning Unchen dared not demand anything more. No matter how much reluctance or how many delusions he held, this was the only sentence he could bring himself to speak.

“Eat this, and I will agree.” A seed of exquisite craftsmanship appeared out of thin air in the palm of Shen Zaixin’s hand. It was completely round and radiated an eerie red glow; anyone could tell at a glance that it was a thing of ill omen.

Yet Ning Unchen accepted it without a moment’s hesitation and popped it into his mouth, his expression remaining as calm as ever: “Let us go to the courtyard.”

152 had just re-established its connection with the host only to witness this outright poisoning and harming of another person, crying out in disbelief: [Is that not the demonic seed you snatched by exterminating the demonic dragon clan and converting spiritual energy into demonic qi?]

Shen Zaixin replied cheerfully and briskly: [Indeed it is.]

152: […]

The so-called demonic seed meant that even a true immortal would fall into the demonic path upon consuming it, let alone Ning Unchen, who was only a step away from breaking the void to ascend.

[What do you suppose will happen to the righteous path’s number one figure, the Qingrong Immortal, once he enters the demonic path?]

He was already growing impatient to witness the outcome.

Yet 152 did not believe the host’s objective would be that simple, and questioned: [You spent a massive amount of effort to snatch that demonic seed, just to make Ning Unchen fall into the demonic path?]

Shen Zaixin looked slightly surprised, noting that 152 seemed to have genuinely grown smarter recently.

[Well, I am merely verifying a hypothesis.]

From the moment the Huaxu Bell appeared on Ning Unchen, Shen Zaixin had sensed something was amiss. This was a golden finger prepared by the Heavenly Dao specifically for Xie Linfeng; it was impossible for it to be snatched away by someone else just because they entered the secret realm half an hour late.

The connection between Ning Unchen and Xie Linfeng was likely far from simple.

Beneath the peach tree in the courtyard, Shen Zaixin snapped off a peach branch. Instantly, the entire tree trembled, and pink petals rained down over him.

“Where is your Zhaoyan?”

“Since it has fallen into my hands, a peach branch is just like Zhaoyan; both are the sharpest swords in this world.” Shen Zaixin twirled a sword flourish, sword light glinting in the depths of his dark pupils, his bearing entirely unbound and frivolous: “Does Senior Brother not believe me?”

The white-robed immortal sighed helplessly: “Why would I not believe you?”

With those words, a peach branch flew out from his own palm as well. The instant their gazes locked, countless surges of sword qi erupted and spread, tearing the drifting peach blossoms into tiny fragments.

Red and white figures intertwined and chased each other, moving so fast they left behind only two residual blurs. Clearly these were merely early spring peach branches, yet when they collided, one could vaguely hear the clashing resonance of metal weapons.

All the pavilions and early spring scenery gradually faded in color as the sword tips intersected, signaling the precursor to the illusion’s collapse.

A peach branch was ultimately not a sword and could not withstand excessively sharp sword intent. During yet another direct clash, it shattered into thousands of pieces alongside the illusion itself.

The morning glow on the horizon was swallowed up by a genuine haze.

“Shen Zaixin!” Xie Linfeng’s anxious voice rang out, heralding the complete disappearance of the illusion.

Ning Unchen followed the voice and looked over, his gaze locking onto a handsome young man walking toward them in long strides. The moment his eyes fell upon the dark red longsword at the youth’s waist, his expression sank abruptly.

He could not possibly be mistaken; that was Zhaoyan.

“Zhaoyan, was that a gift from you?” Even knowing the answer, he asked with a lingering unwillingness to give up.

“What, does this seat need to report to you regarding whom I choose to give my belongings?”

Naturally there was no need, yet Ning Unchen’s heart, frozen for hundreds of years, felt a suffocating oppression. The youth, who was a complete stranger to him, appeared exceptionally eyesore in his vision.

He stepped forward, intending to say something more, but halted abruptly.

Xie Linfeng silently stood in front of that person, watching the high-level, unfathomable man in Daoist robes with guarded alertness.

“Who are you?”

Ning Unchen stared coldly at him. Their gazes met, one as cold as ice, the other untamable and fierce, clashing silently as though exchanging countless rounds of blows.

Throughout it all, Shen Zaixin paid no attention to the two dogs glaring at each other as if baring their teeth to bite. Lowering his gaze, he toyed with the Huaxu Bell he had filched from the Immortal Lord’s storage pouch, emotions unclear in his eyes.

After all these years, the soul imprints he had attached to those items had still not been erased.

Meanwhile, the male protagonist’s hostility value on 152’s data display shifted the exact moment Xie Linfeng stepped in front of Ning Unchen.

Whose hostility value was this anyway?

“152.”

152: [What is it?]

“Why was Xie Linfeng’s initial hatred value toward me so high?”

152 replied indifferently: [Because you are the villain, obviously.]

Shen Zaixin let out a low chuckle, an ambiguous emotion hidden within his eyes: “Is that so?”

It seemed he would have to wait until Ning Unchen entered the demonic path to see things clearly.

Realizing that person would offer no further words, Ning Unchen stood in silence for a long while before finally turning around and departing with a lonely figure.

“Shen Zaixin.”

After waiting for a moment, Shen Zaixin finally spared Xie Linfeng an impatient glance.

An exceptionally resolute light burned within the youth’s eyes as he spoke: “If I cultivate diligently, will I be able to defeat him in the future?”

Who “he” referred to went without saying.

“With your aptitude, you can naturally fight him.”

So long as that person said it, Xie Linfeng chose to believe it without a second thought. He turned his head to gaze quietly at that overly gorgeous profile, his gaze deepening.

Only by continually growing stronger could he guard a precious treasure that everyone coveted.

He had long since ceased to be satisfied with merely acting as a vessel.

The Rebirth Lotus was born within the Huaxu Secret Realm, yet no one knew its exact location. Much like its name, it existed between illusion and reality, only taking physical form for those fated to find it.

Shen Zaixin led his fated companion wandering aimlessly through the secret realm until a commotion suddenly echoed from ahead.

He was never someone blessed with patience, and right now he felt all the more vexed. His phoenix eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked toward the source of the noise.

“Xie Heng! How can you go back on your word!”

“There is only a single Rebirth Lotus born every century, so I must wrong you all by asking you to cede it.” The youth standing with his back to them was graceful as jade, holding a parchment scroll suspended in the air with his right hand. His tone carried apology, yet his posture was rather arrogant.

“Besides, if my Xie family did not know the specific method to enter the underground palace, relying on your crude maps alone would leave you searching until the secret realm closes without finding the entrance. Doing this can be considered a good deed after all, why fly into such a rage?”

With those words, he gave a look to the Xie family death squad members beside him. Understanding the hint, one of them released suppressed cultivation at the peak of the Golden Core stage, grinding those indignant cultivators into powder right on the spot.

“Hah.”

A lingering, ethereal chuckle drifted past on the wind. Xie Heng knew this could not be his imagination, and immediately scanned his surroundings with high alert: “Who is there?”

“How pitiful, their lives are worth even less than a map.” Stepping slowly out from the depths of the forest, the youth wore red robes, a smile curling the corners of his lips, possessing peerless beauty. Yet what shocked Xie Heng even more was that following closely behind this person was Xie Linfeng, who should have long since been dead!

Before he could utter a word, he heard that person continue: “I wonder if Young Master Xie’s life compares to a century-old Rebirth Lotus?”

As the words fell, Xie Heng felt a red afterimage streak across his vision. In the blink of an eye, that person had already arrived right beside him, a hand as cold as jade clasping the fatal meridian of his neck.

A seductive, dark fragrance lingered faintly around his nose, and the hand gripping his neck was as soft and smooth as warm jade. Xie Heng forgot the danger posed by the person before him, staring infatuatedly at those soul-captivating, smiling eyes, feeling as though his very soul was about to be sucked away.

“Let go of our young master!” “What are you doing!”

Shen Zaixin looked at the Xie family members glaring at him with shock and anger, sighed with a smile, and said, “Do not be so hot-tempered. Rumor has it that the Rebirth Lotus is guarded by a companion nightmare beast; with your group of trash, going in is merely marching to your deaths. It would be better to cooperate with this seat. This is your best choice.”

Saying this, the hand gripping Xie Heng’s neck slowly tightened. “And also, the only choice.”