There is Still Such A Good Thing? - Chapter 2

Wu Lingchan could not understand the strange language they were speaking. Startled, he raised his hand and struck out with his brush.

“Mobao!”

The wound where a High-Transformation Realm magical treasure had pierced his shoulder blade had not yet fully healed. The pain made Wu Lingchan’s hand shake, and the brush immediately slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the floor and transforming into a beautiful golden hairpin.

Wu Lingchan called for Mobao, but Xuanxiang did not respond.

In an instant, scenes from before he lost consciousness crowded his mind. The pain made Wu Lingchan tremble all over, and he stumbled, falling to his knees on the couch. He remembered Meng Ping, the Taiping Bow, and the sight of Xuanxiang’s artifact spirit being shattered before his very eyes.

Wu Lingchan was too young to understand why the senior brother he had grown up with, who had always been so considerate and kind, would betray him at such a critical moment. He did not feel he had done anything wrong, nor could he fathom Meng Ping’s motives; he only felt a searing heat burning fiercely in his chest.

Naturally lively by temperament, this was the first time Wu Lingchan had ever felt such intense hatred. With the spirit of his natal weapon shattered, the ink block on his wrist seemed covered in a layer of gray haze. This indicated that Xuanxiang’s spirit was attempting to self-repair.

However, Wu Lingchan was severely injured. Even his Qi Refining stage cultivation had dissipated. He had no spiritual power to support Xuanxiang in reforming its spirit. Wu Lingchan stroked the cold ink block, and his eyes slowly reddened.

The demonic cultivator scurried out and moments later returned with a man dressed in white clothes made of bone-like material. This man had regular features and looked like a celestial being compared to the hideously grinning demons beside him. As soon as the man entered and saw that Wu Lingchan was alive, his eyes also turned red. He immediately gathered his robes and knelt.

“May the Demon God protect the Young Lord’s safe return.”

The other demonic cultivators also knelt and shouted their praises to the Demon God. To Wu Lingchan, they appeared to be of low intelligence.

With tear streaks still drying on his face, Wu Lingchan looked up blankly. Facing a group of demons with ferocious faces and murderous glints in their eyes, his tears started falling again. This time, it was out of fear.

The Third Elder was startled and hurriedly stepped forward on his knees, his tone gentle. “Is the Young Lord’s shoulder wound not yet healed? Quick! Fetch a barrel of Thousand-Year Nectar!”

Wu Lingchan originally could not understand their language, but as the wound on his neck grew hotter, sealed memories seemed to be slowly awakening. As this man prattled on, Wu Lingchan bizarrely realized he was starting to understand the meaning of a few words.

He wondered about his title of Young Lord and the treatment of his injuries. Meng Ping’s Taiping Bow was a gift from the Sect Master of Xiaodiao Peak, containing three arrows of the High-Transformation Realm. If hit, even a High-Transformation Realm cultivator would suffer immensely if they did not die outright. Wu Lingchan vaguely felt some pain in his shoulder and the back of his neck, yet he was surprised to find he was not missing any limbs.

Soon, several demons as large as small mountains arrived carrying a massive barrel, from which the rich aroma of Nectar drifted. Wu Lingchan was shocked. Nectar was a holy healing product; legend said a single drop could bring the dead back to life. Xiaodiao Peak only had three drops in its several-hundred-year history, yet they brought it here by the barrel. He wondered what kind of place could be so extravagant.

The Third Elder stood aside to invite him. “Young Lord, please.”

Wu Lingchan hesitated as his fear dissipated slightly. He looked at the large barrel and wondered if they intended for him to bathe in it. He tested the waters by asking, “What do you call me?”

He spoke haltingly, like a toddler learning to talk. The man’s eyes brightened even more, and he unleashed a long string of explanations. After a long time of gesturing and guessing, Wu Lingchan finally understood.

This place was Kunfu Xu. Because it bordered the forbidden land of the Three Realms, the Wangliao Tomb, it had a resounding name throughout the Nine Provinces: The Demon Abyss.

Kunfu Xu had been overflowing with demonic energy for three thousand years. Everyone in the Nine Sovereigns and Seventeen Territories used demonic energy to cultivate. Born as demonic cultivators, they were in a constant state of conflict and slaughter. Legend had it that the previous Demon Sovereign ruled Kunfu Xu for nearly five hundred years until he went into secluded meditation ten years ago due to severe injuries. His youngest son went missing, and his eldest son, Chen She, took temporary control of the Demon Abyss.

The Third Elder of the Demon Abyss, Jiang Zhengliu, said softly, “When the Young Lord was five years old, a beast tide from Wangliao Tomb invaded the capital of Kunfu Xu. You went missing in the chaos, and your life lamp went out. The Sovereign thought you had already perished and has been grieving until now. If you do not believe me, know that the royal bloodline of the Demon Realm carries a golden seal located on the neck.”

Wu Lingchan instinctively reached out to touch his neck. It was the spot grazed by the Taiping Bow. The wound had not recovered and was faintly burning. Under his touch, there truly seemed to be patterns spreading. It was the character for “Wu.”

“Wu is your mother’s surname,” Jiang Zhengliu said. “Back then, she fought to the death to protect you and left you her surname. I cannot mistake this seal.”

Hearing the word “mother,” Wu Lingchan felt a moment of confusion. Since childhood, his cultivation talent was higher than others, but his way of speaking and acting was unlikable. He provoked many people to speak ill of him, and the most common insult was “parentless bastard.” Wu Lingchan was never sad about it; he felt it was a fact rather than an insult. Now, stroking the burning seal on his neck, he thought blankly that he had a mother too.

Wu Lingchan began to feel a slight sense of reality regarding his status as the Young Lord and asked, “Then where is my father?”

Speaking of this, a touch of coldness appeared on Jiang Zhengliu’s face. “That fellow Chen She usurped the throne and put the Sovereign under house arrest in Tonglan Palace. To the outside world, he claims the Sovereign is severely injured. He has the ambitions of a wolf, and his heart is despicable.”

Wu Lingchan’s vocabulary of the demon language was barely that of a five-year-old. He could not fully understand this long explanation and thought the new Sovereign’s name was four characters long, repeating the name Chen She.

“Good child, do not learn that,” Jiang Zhengliu stopped him. “The Young Lord’s return is perfectly timed. Lord Chen has been leading Kunfu Xu these years and is about to officially ascend as the new Sovereign. The clans are in a heated debate over this, arguing incessantly. This is when you are needed most.”

Wu Lingchan understood only half of it. He wondered why he was needed if his elder brother was ascending the throne.

Seeing he did not understand, Jiang Zhengliu continued to drop hints. “In the Demon Abyss, while might makes right is best, bloodline is also indispensable. Although Lord Chen’s cultivation is powerful, his bloodline is ultimately not the Sovereign’s biological son. The candidate for the new Sovereign should ideally be legitimate.”

These words were convoluted and hard to grasp. Wu Lingchan struggled to understand, extracting a few key words regarding strength and bloodline. Wu Lingchan then asked, “Then my elder brother, what is his cultivation level?”

“Refining Spirit into Void.”

The Qi-Refining-stage Wu Lingchan was shocked. Even the head of the Immortal Alliance of the Three Realms was only at the High-Transformation Realm. Chen She was actually two realms higher than him. He thought that if Chen She became the new Sovereign, then as the Young Lord, he might be able to restore his cultivation and let Xuanxiang reform its spirit sooner.

Wu Lingchan gave a heavy nod. “I understand.”

Jiang Zhengliu showed a look of relief. Seeing the Young Lord’s pale face, he used a cloth soaked in Nectar to wipe the shoulder wound that had not completely closed. Just then, sounds of anxious obstruction came from outside.

“Stop!” “You cannot go in here!” “Lord Xun, please stop!”

A flash of impatience appeared between Jiang Zhengliu’s brows. Following the sound of a door being kicked open, a mocking voice called out, “Elder Jiang, I heard the Little Young Lord has awakened. Lord Chen has specially ordered me to bring him to the Bihan Platform for a talk.”

Jiang Zhengliu adjusted the robes on Wu Lingchan’s shoulder and said indifferently without looking up, “The Young Lord is still injured; it is not suitable for him to get up.”

Wu Lingchan looked over curiously. Frost and snow whistled as they swirled in. The newcomer was tall and sturdy, his black martial attire covered in snow. He leaned lazily against the doorframe, smiling.

“If the Little Young Lord is so heavily injured that even a barrel of Thousand-Year Nectar cannot heal him, then as a person of such noble status, he must go to Bihan Platform to find a physician for a proper diagnosis.”

Jiang Zhengliu sneered, “That is not for Lord Xun to worry about.”

Xun Ye laughed loudly. He rotated his wrist, which was encased in iron-forged black armor. Accompanied by the creaking of clashing steel, he pulled a long blade straight out of the chaotic wind and snow. “In that case, I can only personally invite the Young Lord.”

Jiang Zhengliu’s expression changed. Before he could reprimand the man, Wu Lingchan cleverly understood the word “invite.” He chimed in curiously, “Invite me? To invite someone, should you not be kneeling on the ground in humble supplication? Why are you pulling out a blade?”

He wondered if this was a demonic custom for inviting people. Xun Ye was momentarily stunned. Inside the simple cottage, Wu Lingchan had risen from the couch. A red robe embroidered with golden maple patterns was loosely draped over his shoulders, and his dark hair fell messily over his back. A gust of wind looked like it could blow him over. He possessed a brilliance and fragility that the entire Kunfu Xu had never seen before.

Rarely stunned by a face, Xun Ye regained his senses quickly and said with a fake smile, “According to the Young Lord, how should I invite you?”

Wu Lingchan tapped his chin. “Kneel down.”

Xun Ye was confused, and Jiang Zhengliu was also stunned by these words. Xun Ye had followed Chen She since childhood and held a noble status. He had never been so insulted before. After being stunned for a long time, he was moved to a cold laugh.

He stared sinisterly at Wu Lingchan. “Does the Young Lord know what he is saying?”

“I know.” As the seal on Wu Lingchan’s neck grew hotter, even his pupils turned a deep crimson. “You kneel and invite me, and then I will go.”

Even Jiang Zhengliu was frightened. He hurried to Wu Lingchan’s side, fearing Xun Ye would lose his temper and strike the boy with his blade. “Young Lord, he is the second most influential person under Lord Chen. He has a very strange temperament; it is best not to provoke him.”

Wu Lingchan looked at him suspiciously, wondering how he was being provocative. Xun Ye gave a sinister grin and was about to attack when a red light suddenly flashed at his neck. It seemed someone had sent him a voice transmission.

Xun Ye’s expression shifted. He stared with wide eyes for a long time, then actually dropped to one knee, placed his long blade across his lap, and bowed his head in salutation. It was a grand gesture of submission.

“Forgive me, Young Lord. This subordinate respectfully invites the Young Lord to Bihan Platform.”

Jiang Zhengliu took a soft breath. Yet, Wu Lingchan had no awareness of his provocation and was perfectly satisfied. “This is how you invite someone. Stand up.”

The room full of demonic cultivators was silent. Wu Lingchan bore the seal of the pure Demon Abyss bloodline and was indeed the Young Lord. However, with the previous Demon Sovereign in seclusion, power was held by Chen She. In such a precarious situation, he actually dared to demand that Chen She’s subordinate perform a grand kowtow. They wondered if he was truly unafraid of death.

Jiang Zhengliu finally reacted after a while, feeling a sense of amusement. Just after returning to the Demon Abyss, Wu Lingchan used Xun Ye to give Chen She a massive show of strength. This Little Young Lord was not to be underestimated.

Perhaps worried that Wu Lingchan would be killed by Chen She, Jiang Zhengliu had hidden him in a remote part of the Kunfu Xu capital. Even riding the wind, it took half a day to reach Bihan Platform. Wu Lingchan had just recovered from his injuries, and the loss of blood had damaged his foundation. He sat on the large kite with a sickly pale face, his wide sleeves and robes fluttering as he stared down at the ground.

Along the way to the capital, the path was lined with red maples. Groups of demonic cultivators patrolled everywhere, their auras terrifying. They were likely all above the Nascent Soul stage, and each bore strange runes on their bodies.

Wu Lingchan tilted his head, looking at them, then turned back to look at the rune on Xun Ye’s neck. “What characters are those on your bodies?”

Xun Ye rolled his eyes, thinking the boy was illiterate. “We pledge our loyalty to Lord Chen. The runes are not characters; they are the Chen seal.”

Wu Lingchan realized, “Then in the future, if someone pledges loyalty to me, will they also draw a Wu seal on their face?”

He thought that when he had his own subordinates, he might lead them back to Xiaodiao Peak for revenge. Jiang Zhengliu’s eyelid twitched. Only a Demon Sovereign could have a Sovereign Seal. The Young Lord was indeed ambitious; just after returning, he was already thinking about reclaiming the position.

Xun Ye let out a laugh and suddenly felt at peace. He showed great tolerance toward a person he perceived as dying, even breaking into a smile. “Of course, Young Lord. You are truly a clever Young Lord.”

Wu Lingchan liked being praised and said modestly, “Yes, I am.”

Seeing that he had the face to agree, Xun Ye sneered in his heart. Lord Chen always loathed fools, and one this stupid was quite rare. He believed that once the boy met Lord Chen, blood would soon splatter the hall. He thought the boy should just wait for his death.