The Cannon Fodder Also Has a Will to Survive [Rebirth] - Chapter 15

Ten thousand years ago, the Longtian Continent possessed a distinct Demon Realm. Later, this realm merged with the Cultivation World. After thousands of years of conflict, the two sides eventually negotiated a peace.

The natural-born Yao race established Demon-Spirit City within the Cultivation World. Over the millennia, it evolved into an entity similar to a sect. These natural-born Yao can walk freely throughout the Cultivation World or even join other sects, though such cases remain rare.

Han Zhong, of the Wan-Yan Sword Sect, was one of those rare cases.

Standing at the forefront of the Wan-Yan disciples, the man was handsome and possessed an extraordinary aura. After thousands of years of coexistence, there was no longer any physical difference between humans and natural-born Yao. In fact, due to racial advantages, Yao cultivators were generally superior in appearance; their entire race was composed of beauties.

Han Zhong’s features were exceptionally striking. Although he didn’t quite reach the level of Si Xuanye, he was still peerlessly handsome, possessing the grace of a dragon or phoenix. He was the object of affection for many human and Yao cultivators alike.

Yet, An Jiu avoided him like the plague.

The reason was simple: Han Zhong governed Fengyuan Peak, the seat of discipline within the Wan-Yan Sword Sect. He was specifically tasked with judging disciples who harbored wicked thoughts or practiced the unorthodox.

An Jiu was hardly a paragon of virtue; he had, after all, stolen An Yunge’s token just to sneak into the Inner Sect.

The guiltier he felt, the more he feared contact with Han Zhong. Every time he saw this Junior Uncle, An Jiu didn’t dare meet his gaze. To make matters worse, Han Zhong loved to interrogate him, following up every question with a scrutinizing stare that added immense psychological pressure. Over time, An Jiu developed a genuine phobia of the man.

However, having been reborn, An Jiu was now terrified of everyone, which paradoxically made facing Han Zhong less nerve-wracking.

What’s there to fear? he thought. At least in An Yunge’s harem, Han Zhong was the only one who didn’t kick me while I was down after my identity was exposed.

Steeling himself, An Jiu looked up and met Han Zhong’s gaze squarely. “Greetings, Junior Uncle. Have you come to collect An Yunge?”

Han Zhong gave him a half-smile but didn’t answer. He turned his gaze to the side of the high platform, where An Yunge stood. “Yunge, what do you say?”

An Jiu couldn’t stop grumbling internally. He calls him ‘Yunge’ but calls me ‘Nephew An.’ Anyone would think An Yunge was the one who had been his sect-mate for four years.

An Yunge looked at An Jiu. Clearly, even though his previous plan had failed, he had no intention of letting An Jiu leave his side so easily. “Xiao Jiu is my brother, our Master’s disciple, and a member of Wan-Yan. Now that we’ve found him, how can we not bring him home?”

Han Zhong’s eyes crinkled slightly, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness. “Yunge makes a fair point.”

In truth, Han Zhong knew his Senior Brother (Si Xuanye) was still after the Heavenly Spirit Medicine. However, since this was a secret that shouldn’t be broadcast, Han Zhong played along with An Yunge’s performance. One acted out of brotherly affection to insist on taking the person, while the other pretended to offer the Demonic Emperor face by acting conflicted.

“Since Your Majesty is friends with Yunge, could you perhaps grant him the favor of letting us take An Jiu as well?” Han Zhong looked toward Lin Jingyuan, finally steering the conversation to the main point.

An Jiu, who had been in a fog, finally understood the situation. Han Zhong had brought a large group of Wan-Yan disciples to rescue An Yunge. An Yunge had mentioned An Jiu was here and wanted to take him too. But it seemed Lin Jingyuan was willing to let An Yunge go, yet had no intention of releasing An Jiu.

While he didn’t know why Lin Jingyuan was doing this, An Jiu’s mind raced. He immediately decided that staying with Lin Jingyuan was better. First, staying away from An Yunge was the best guarantee for his life. Second, staying with Lin Jingyuan meant he got fed.

Hearing Han Zhong’s request, Lin Jingyuan gave a lazy “Mhm,” then shifted his gaze to An Jiu’s face.

An Jiu blinked innocently at him. He truly was a simple creature, not even knowing how to lobby for his own interests. But Lin Jingyuan had a soft spot for this; a fool like An Jiu was simply too fun to bully.

The Emperor smirked, his tone light and full of mischief. “That won’t do. An Jiu and my Ah Hua are deeply in love; they are to be wed.”

“…” An Jiu’s expression froze. The hope in his eyes vanished, replaced by pure embarrassment.

He really did hear me! Lin Jingyuan is definitely a weird pervert. Who monitors people in the middle of the night… and then announces it in front of a crowd? Do I not have any dignity left?

Han Zhong was curious. “Who is this Ah Hua?”

Han Zhong assumed “Ah Hua” was just some demon cultivator Lin Jingyuan was using as an excuse. He figured if the person were brought before him, he could expose the lie of them being “deeply in love” within a few sentences.

Lin Jingyuan leaned his head on his hand and teased, “Why don’t you ask your Nephew An?”

An Jiu felt like he was being roasted over a fire. He didn’t know whether to answer or stay silent. After hesitating for a long time, he finally muttered, “Ah Hua isn’t a ‘who.’ Ah Hua is a dog.”

Han Zhong and An Yunge exchanged a look, both seeing the utter shock in each other’s eyes.

“Jingyuan!” An Yunge couldn’t help but speak up, his tone full of disapproval. “Even if Xiao Jiu has offended you, there is no need to subject him to such humiliation.”

“This isn’t me humiliating him. He suggested it himself. If you don’t believe me, ask him.” Lin Jingyuan’s voice remained lazy and utterly unbothered.

An Jiu nodded, his expression surprisingly natural.

He didn’t feel humiliated. Someone who had truly been trampled into the mud didn’t care about verbal barbs. Besides, Ah Hua was a “Dog Spirit.” Maybe he’d even cultivate into a Dog Demon later. Living with Ah Hua wasn’t so bad; after all, An Jiu didn’t dare to love a human again. He had loved Si Xuanye, and the price had been far too high.

In the Cultivation World, seeking a Daoist Companion was often just about finding company against the long struggle with fate. Since no one knew when they might fall, the choice of companion was no longer strictly limited by gender or even species.

That said, picking a dog was still beyond the pale!

Everyone present, whether righteous or demonic, looked at An Jiu with expressions that were hard to describe. Even Lin Jingyuan was amused by An Jiu’s nonchalance. Does this idiot really plan on being ‘husband and wife’ with a beast?

“Does Peak Master Han wish to stay for Xiao Jiu’s wedding wine?” Lin Jingyuan asked. Had the little idiot not accidentally exposed his identity as the “Heavenly Spirit Root,” Lin Jingyuan might have been fooled by Han Zhong’s act. But now that he knew Han Zhong wouldn’t leave such a treasure behind, he didn’t mind being extra provocative.

Han Zhong was truly speechless. The situation was becoming increasingly absurd. However, he couldn’t confront Lin Jingyuan head-on; this was, after all, the Emperor’s territory.

“Very well.” Han Zhong decided he would stay for two days to see if he could steal the boy away. If Lin Jingyuan could steal the ‘Heavenly Spirit Medicine’ from Wan-Yan, it was only fair to return the favor.

An Jiu found himself suddenly scheduled for a wedding, yet he accepted it well, he was even secretly a bit happy.

He asked Lin Jingyuan, “Am I marrying Ah Hua?”

Lin Jingyuan’s lip twitched. “Ah Hua is marrying you.”

“Huh? Why?” An Jiu was genuinely stunned. He figured that, no matter what, he was more capable than Ah Hua. Why wasn’t he the one in charge?

Lin Jingyuan raised an eyebrow, silencing An Jiu’s doubts with a single sentence: “Because Ah Hua is the one who provides your meals.”

“…Oh.” Frustrating, yet undeniable.

The expressions of those surrounding them began to contort as they struggled to stifle their laughter. Han Zhong didn’t manage, covering the lower half of his face with his hand as he let out a low cough. I haven’t seen this sanctimonious, fake nephew for a while, but he actually seems a bit cute now.

Thus, the group of Wan-Yan disciples remained in the Demonic Realm. Lin Jingyuan treated them with proper hospitality while making elaborate preparations for the wedding of An Jiu and Ah Hua.

Lin Jingyuan told An Jiu the grand wedding would be in three days and asked if he had any objections. An Jiu figured there would be plenty of good food at the feast, so he planned to hoard some for later use.

Surprisingly, Lin Jingyuan was generous enough to give An Jiu a new courtyard right inside the Emperor’s own palace. For the next three days, An Jiu was forced into constant proximity with Lin Jingyuan.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to endure.

Every day, Lin Jingyuan summoned him. He didn’t make him do anything; he just had An Jiu sit there while he read. Occasionally, he would pat An Jiu’s head. It was a picture of peaceful, quiet years.

By the third day, An Jiu’s courage had grown. Seeing Lin Jingyuan absorbed in his book, he dared to sneakily reach out and steal pastries from the desk. Since Lin Jingyuan didn’t eat them anyway, An Jiu figured he wouldn’t notice if two pieces went missing from each plate.

However, An Jiu had spent more time as a mortal than a cultivator, and having been without cultivation since his rebirth, he had forgotten a key fact: cultivators do not rely solely on their eyes. They have Divine Sense.

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, feeling warm and comfortable. After finishing his snacks, An Jiu began to slide down in his seat with visible slowness. He intended to just close his eyes for a nap, but he ended up slumped over the desk, falling into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes, the sun was setting. He was no longer slumped on the desk; he was lying across Lin Jingyuan’s lap.

Realizing this, An Jiu froze. His heart began to thud wildly. He scrambled up immediately, looking like a guilty child, standing before Lin Jingyuan with his head bowed. “I, I didn’t mean to.”

Lin Jingyuan’s attitude was indifferent. “Mhm,” he replied, his tone unreadable.

An Jiu waited nervously, but when no further reprimand came, he gradually relaxed. He felt that Lin Jingyuan wasn’t actually that scary. At least, not as scary as in my past life. He couldn’t easily erase the shadow Lin Jingyuan had cast over his heart, but for the sake of survival, being a little flattering to this moody man didn’t feel beneath him.

An Jiu politely apologized and took his leave. Lin Jingyuan’s mood seemed unusually stable today even pleasant. An Jiu figured the “Great Demon” was probably excited to see the farce tomorrow, and with his twisted sense of humor satisfied, he had become easy to talk to.

On the third morning, however, the demoness pushed open An Jiu’s door early to bring him some “bad news.”

“This is bad, Xiao Jiu!” She burst in just as An Jiu had finished putting on his wedding robes, while a maid was still combing his hair.

“What happened?” An Jiu turned around, bewildered. The makeup artist had just finished a touch of light makeup; a bright red Huadian (floral ornament) was pressed onto his forehead, and a hint of rouge graced his lips.

This subtle enhancement made his already exquisite face look vividly beautiful and soul-stirring. Even the demoness was stunned, nearly forgetting her purpose. After An Jiu asked again, she finally spoke with a strange tone.

“Well the groom has run away.”

An Jiu: “…”

Why does it feel like she’s about to burst out laughing? And “Ah Hua ran away”? Is she kidding? Do I look that stupid?