The Immortal Lord Always Pretends To Be Affectionate Towards Me - Chapter 4

Yu Zaixi had absolutely no desire to go to the Western Mountain; he had never intended to investigate that vicious beast. However, Qin Nai insisted on investigating matters related to his own master. He refused to reveal the details but begged Yu Zaixi for help, and after much persuasion, he finally managed to drag him there. The two arrived just as the last trace of twilight faded.

Yu Zaixi leaned against a tree, his arms crossed, attempting to look carefree. With his long hair tied up, he looked every bit the youthful immortal. Cultivators maintained their peak physical state for centuries, so Yu Zaixi was unsure what age Yuan Qi’s body was supposed to be. Regardless, it hurt. Coming here had only made the pain worse.

Jiang Yan was nowhere to be seen, so Yu Zaixi surveyed his surroundings. Without the protection of a cultivator’s formation, the area was fraught with peril as the sun set. Cold winds whistled, and once darkness fell, mindless demonic creatures would swarm from every direction. While mindless demons were not terrifying individually, their sheer numbers were incredibly bothersome.

“What is their game? Did they trick us into coming here to be scapegoats?” Yu Zaixi muttered, his brow furrowed and his tongue unrestrained.

Qin Nai shook his head with a helpless smile. “Little Yu, let us not assume malice.”

Yu Zaixi scoffed. “What is there to fear? The worst outcome is being killed by him. But looking at how he treats this body, he is clearly unwilling to part with it, so he certainly will not lay a hand on me.”

Qin Nai advised, “Shall we study the mountain first?”

“This wretched mountain is heavy with demonic energy, but there is nothing else here now. I have no idea why Jiang Yan wanted to come.”

As they spoke, they cast their eyes toward the Western Mountain. Aside from the peak that Miao Pei had cleaved off the previous night, which now lay in a deathly, shadowed silence, there was nothing unusual.

Qin Nai touched the jade brush at his waist, his mind drifting elsewhere. After a moment, he stopped and stared at the sharp, flat cut on the mountain peak. “Little Yu, judging by Brother Jiang’s tone, you ran into trouble last night?”

Yu Zaixi pursed his lips. After a moment of reluctant silence, he walked slowly across the remaining rays of sunlight. “Yes, I was injured. But it was not because I could not defeat it; I was wounded by something else.”

Qin Nai was surprised and asked with concern, “Is the injury serious?”

Yu Zaixi shook his head. “I am fine. I am used to it.”

He was used to the pain; he was used to the injuries. He had long ago realized that this body was incredibly resilient. No matter how much he hurt or how badly he was injured, he simply would not die. Sometimes, he was even curious about the limits of this body—just what it would take to actually kill him.

Perhaps seeing the melancholy in Yu Zaixi’s expression, Qin Nai chose to withdraw his gaze and return to waiting. No need to think too much. He clenched his hands under his sleeves.

Yu Zaixi sensitively sensed a change in Qin Nai but could not be bothered to acknowledge it. He tilted his eyes to watch the sunset. The sunset in Yunlu was magnificent and brilliant. The rolling waves of fire wrapped around the golden disk as it sank westward, covering the sky in fiery red clouds. It seemed as if the sun wanted to leave its final burst of fervor to the land, protecting the late travelers for as long as it could.

After lingering for a long time, the evening glow finally dimmed under the invisible urging of the Heavenly Dao. The golden sun fell rapidly, as if plummeting into a mysterious, ancient, and vast region in the west.

Darkness fell upon the world. Across the land, hundreds of cities lit their Divine Bone Candles, closed their gates, and activated their formations to prevent demons from entering. Areas without such protection were plunged into gray, frigid mist, where everything lost its color and was vulnerable to demonic intrusion.

There was no moon in the human world, and this had been the case for centuries.

Legend had it that before, the cold moon would rise in the east even before the sun had set, hidden within the boundless red glow. Once the sun set and the world darkened, the moon would shed its cool radiance, cloaking the world in a gentle, silvery glow. Travelers did not need to rush before sunset, and cities did not need to spend millions to fight for candles or struggle to maintain formations. That cool, silver moon had hung high in the sky, guarding the world with its gentle, lonely solitude.

Whether there was a moon made no difference to Yu Zaixi. After escaping prison, he had hidden in a cave to cultivate until he broke through to the Nascent Soul stage. He avoided any high-intelligence demons and ignored the low-intelligence ones. Thus, he appreciated the sunset merely as a beautiful sight; he had no capacity for sentimental mourning.

Miao Pei was different. He followed Jiang Yan with sighs, panting heavily whenever they stopped to catch his breath. Yu Zaixi looked back at the two men; Jiang Yan was still wearing his elegant robes, while Miao Pei followed behind like a pitiful little dog.

“What are you sighing about?” Yu Zaixi asked impatiently, thinking the boy was sighing at him again.

Miao Pei sighed once more. “I have never seen the moon since I was born. I do not know how beautiful it is, or why the world turned out like this.”

I am the body of the great sinner who turned the world into this, Yu Zaixi thought to himself, feeling like dying. He wondered how such a fool could have been taken in by Yuan Qi. Did he not know that the current demonic infestation was entirely due to Yuan Qi’s collusion with the Demon Lord?

Yu Zaixi sneered. He looked sideways at Jiang Yan and decided to provoke him. “Have you ever been to Buer Prison? Beneath that skylight, when you look up, the moon is blue.”

“Truly?” Miao Pei asked, surprised, before his face paled as he realized the implication and scurried behind Jiang Yan.

A child’s temperament. Yu Zaixi could not be bothered to tease him anymore. He turned to face Jiang Yan, waiting until the man finally shifted his gaze from the mountain to meet his eyes. One was defiant; the other, placid. Yu Zaixi felt a surge of anger. The stories in the books were all lies. Where was Jiang Yan’s supposed love for Yuan Qi?

However, as Jiang Yan began to walk toward the foot of the Western Mountain, Yu Zaixi had a sudden epiphany. He was Yu Zaixi, merely occupying this body. What did his experiences have to do with Jiang Yan? Why would he care? Caring too much would be considered betrayal, would it not? Then again, Yuan Qi was dead, so it would not even reach the point of betrayal.

As he calculated these intriguing complications in his mind, Jiang Yan stopped and said, “He left something here. You must be the one to find it.”

“A wolf-tiger beast? That grafted creature actually has intelligence?”

As he asked, Yu Zaixi stood up from the tree and walked toward the three men. Perhaps there was an issue with the Western Mountain, or perhaps the beast had truly left something behind, but as he drew closer, the pain in his body became unbearable. Usually, it was just a dull ache in his joints, but now, sharp, needle-like pains emerged from his very marrow. As he neared the foot of the mountain, the needles became hammer blows, and Yu Zaixi struggled to hold his ground.

He paused to catch his breath, keeping his expression neutral, and chuckled to himself. “This mountain really is suspicious.”

Jiang Yan’s dark eyes turned to him, an unreadable emotion surging in their depths, as if he had seen right through him. He frowned imperceptibly. “What is wrong with your body?”

Yu Zaixi’s smile faded for a second before he recovered, mocking him. “What does it have to do with you?”

“The demonic energy in this mountain is suppressing you. Focus your senses.”

Jiang Yan’s previous concern had vanished, replaced by pure utility. Yu Zaixi sighed silently. “I cannot sense anything. If you are so capable, why can’t you find it yourself?”

Jiang Yan looked back at him. As the fiery sun dropped behind the mountains, his expression sank into the darkness, his voice flat. “I cannot perceive it.”

In the blink of an eye, the world turned dark. Yu Zaixi squinted. He was used to hiding in the shadows during sunsets, but this time, the pain was so intense that his vision went black, almost as if he were blind. A surge of inexplicable irritability washed over him. He sneered, “If you cannot perceive it, you must use me as a tool? What about my pain?”

He spoke too quickly. Beside him, Miao Pei, who had just lit his Divine Bone Candle, froze as he watched the flickering flame rise, casting a faint light that made their expressions visible. Yu Zaixi’s face was deathly pale and malicious as he glared at Jiang Yan, who stood with a heavy expression, lost in thought.

Neither spoke. Miao Pei looked at Qin Nai, who, sensing his plea for help, cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should first address Little Yu’s physical condition. Is he in pain?”

Yu Zaixi straightened his spine, trembling slightly as he endured the throbbing pain. He retracted his glare from Jiang Yan and shook his head at Qin Nai. “I am fine. Let us continue.”

He was truly fed up. He no longer even had the energy to argue with Jiang Yan; he just wanted to finish this investigation, have Jiang Yan break the curse, and leave as far as possible. After all, this body did not belong to him anyway; he just felt pain, and he would not die. Jiang Yan could be ruthless to his own junior brother; why would he pity him?

Yu Zaixi walked toward the foot of the mountain without looking back, his expression one of complete indifference. He passed Miao Pei, who panicked and hurried to Jiang Yan’s side, mouthing, “Master, what should we do?”

Jiang Yan glanced sideways at him, his eyes fixed on Yu Zaixi’s back. Miao Pei understood immediately and rushed to catch up, holding the Divine Bone Candle high. “Brother Yu, Brother Yu, I will hold the candle for you so those little ghosts do not bother you.”

The little ghosts were what they called low-intelligence demons on the mountain. Yu Zaixi had no interest in arguing about formalities. He was preoccupied with the thought that this body might just as well explode right here, saving him from the daily cycle of pain. He could neither stand nor sit comfortably, and he was sick of it.

But as he continued forward, a cyan-blue hue spread from beneath his feet. It was Jiang Yan’s spiritual energy. Jiang Yan was using his own energy as a shield and armor to clear the path for Yu Zaixi. The Mahayana-stage spiritual energy was thick and oppressive, but all its sharpness was directed outward, wrapping Yu Zaixi in a protective cocoon. The pain gradually subsided, and he walked forward in a daze, his brow furrowing deeper.

He could not sense where the anomaly was.

“How are you going to let me find the way forward like this? You cannot find it yourself, so stop causing trouble!” Yu Zaixi snapped, walking by memory and refusing to bow to Jiang Yan. Jiang Yan followed silently, and Qin Nai, unable to speak, watched Yu Zaixi stumble forward and understood the agony they were both enduring.

Before he could reflect further, Yu Zaixi stopped completely.

“Pull back your spiritual energy. I was heading in the wrong direction. I give up. What is the point of being at the Mahayana stage?”