Why is the Demon Venerable Like That? - Chapter 11

Lu Yuan was startled. He climbed up slowly, squinting for a long time, only then discovering a person sitting in the dark corner.

The person waved his hand casually, and the candles in the room flickered to life.

The light dispelled the gloom on his face.

It was Ling Chuandu.

Lu Yuan’s heart settled back down; he had thought it was some kind of home-invading criminal.

“Did you sleep well?” Ling Chuandu asked.

It was not the kind of sarcasm like, “I am sitting here, and you dare to sleep,” nor was it a preamble like, “I am going to take your life right now.” He seemed to have asked just out of curiosity.

Lu Yuan clutched his forehead, his expression listless. His soul was not yet stable, and he was not fully awake. He deliberated before saying, “…It was okay?”

He observed Ling Chuandu’s expression and pondered for a moment, feeling that it was rude of him to occupy a large bed all by himself.

Therefore, Lu Yuan moved inward a little, patted the bed beside him, and invited, “It is very comfortable. Do you want to come lie down and try?”

Ling Chuandu was stunned by his words. Then, as if he felt Lu Yuan had suggested a good idea, he rose from his seat and stood by the head of the bed without a word.

The distance between them was enough for him to easily crush Lu Yuan’s throat.

Lu Yuan: “Extinguish the lights, thank you.” If it were too bright, he would not be able to sleep.

A hint of brutality appeared in Ling Chuandu’s eyes. Ever since Lu Yuan had died, he had been unable to control his temper well. The desire for destruction had become the sludge flowing in his blood, eroding his reason inch by inch.

He asked, “Are you ordering me to do things for you?”

This was fatal.

Lu Yuan went from holding his forehead with one hand to covering his face entirely. He had been half-asleep just a moment ago; seeing someone familiar in a strange environment had caused him to lower his guard unconsciously.

Now, he felt his tone had been overly familiar.

Lu Yuan’s sleepiness was mostly gone. He lifted the quilt and prepared to get out of bed, sycophantically saying, “Please, Sect Master Ling, do not be polite, feel free to lie down.”

Ling Chuandu did not speak. He extended his index finger and pressed it against Lu Yuan’s forehead, stopping his movement. He looked down at this face, his index finger tracing from Lu Yuan’s forehead to his jaw, as if he were slowly sketching out his features.

Because the System had added points to his appearance earlier, this puppet—which had originally been carved to look like Lu Yuan’s previous life—looked even more like him now.

Suddenly, Ling Chuandu covered Lu Yuan’s entire face with his palm, his hand fitting perfectly against the contours of Lu Yuan’s face.

Through his palm, he could feel the other’s high bridge of the nose, thick eyelashes, and warm, moist lips.

It was just that he did not want to see this face anymore.

Lu Yuan was inexplicably covered by the hand. He could not see Ling Chuandu’s expression, hesitated for a moment, and asked, “What is…” wrong with you?

“Shut up,” Ling Chuandu said.

Interrupted, Lu Yuan honestly chose to remain silent. The two of them maintained this strange posture for a few seconds until Lu Yuan could not help but want to speak, at which point Ling Chuandu finally extinguished the candles.

Then, Lu Yuan saw Ling Chuandu lie down beside him without removing his clothes. Lu Yuan could not quite figure out what he meant, but asking questions at this moment would break this inexplicable balance, so he followed suit and laid down, even enthusiastically sharing some of the quilt.

Lu Yuan felt there was too much cold energy on Ling Chuandu, so he subtly maintained a distance that was neither too far nor too close. After about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, just as he was about to fall asleep, he was pushed by the other person.

“You are not allowed to sleep.” Ling Chuandu had not been lying down for long when he heard Lu Yuan’s breathing gradually become steady. The irritability in his heart had nowhere to vent—since he himself was not asleep, why should this person be?—so without thinking, he woke Lu Yuan up.

It was not as if Lu Yuan had not been treated this way when he was young.

Back at Jiucang City, when he and Ling Chuandu were two children, they insisted on reading books about supernatural phenomena. After both of them were shivering with fear at night, they chose to hug each other for warmth.

In the end, because Lu Yuan always fell asleep faster than his junior brother, every time, Ling Chuandu would wake him up and demand a guarantee that he would let Ling Chuandu fall asleep first.

Lu Yuan’s eyelids were fighting hard. Dazedly, he felt as if he had returned to his childhood.

Half-asleep and half-awake, he turned to his side, habitually tucked the quilt in for the person beside him, and then, as he did in the past, patted the other’s shoulder lightly. “…Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.”

Lu Yuan’s voice grew lower and slower, “…Don’t be afraid, Junior Brother…”

Finally, he slid down from his soft pillow, rested his forehead against the crook of Ling Chuandu’s neck, and fell into a deep sleep.

Ling Chuandu stared at the empty space above, his expression stern, as if he were preparing to tear the roof down.

He lay there, body stiff, feeling Lu Yuan’s hair lifted by a faint airflow, brushing against his jaw, with one hand resting neither too heavily nor too lightly on his shoulder.

Ling Chuandu’s divine sense silently clung to the side of Lu Yuan’s neck, resting on his vibrant, beating pulse. If he wanted to, he could instantly make the person beside him die in his sleep.

However, the other’s fearless attitude reminded him of Lu Yuan.

The real Lu Yuan.

So, Ling Chuandu decided to spare his life; after all, being alone in the secret realm was truly quite boring.

As for whether Lu Yuan could survive, that was his own business.

Ling Chuandu smelled a faint wood fragrance on Lu Yuan; the scent seemed to carry drowsiness with it. Unknowingly, he closed his eyes.

When Lu Yuan woke up the next day, he discovered that the two of them were entangled in a rather indecent position.

He retreated rapidly, feeling the back of his head bump into something at the same time. Holding the quilt, Lu Yuan looked like a common girl forced into marriage by a bully.

The “bully,” Ling Chuandu, was rubbing his chin and looking at him with an unkind expression.

What did I do? Is my sleeping posture that bad?

Lu Yuan fell into deep self-reflection.

Of course, the secret realm did not give him much time to reflect, as the door was knocked on. Outside came a maid’s crisp voice, “Young Master, Young Mistress, are you awake? It is time to rise.”

The tense, sword-drawn atmosphere between the two was interrupted by the woman’s voice.

Lu Yuan had not yet figured out their identities, but seeing Ling Chuandu’s foul expression, he knew this ancestor would certainly not pay them any mind, so he cleared his throat. “Come in.”

The first rule of the Partridge Dream: because the appearance of the cultivators who enter is still that of the previous people to outsiders, one cannot show anything unusual in front of the indigenous people of the secret realm; everything must be as per normal.

Several maids filed in gracefully. Carrying basins, clothes, and food, the group had clear divisions of labor; they were here to serve them for their morning wash and start to the day.

The maids were not surprised to see Ling Chuandu’s ugly expression. Everyone in Tiandu City knew that the young master liked the second daughter of the Lu family, and after being forced to marry the eldest daughter of the Lu family, he had been in a foul mood.

A few days ago, the young master had even made a scene about wanting to sleep in separate rooms. The fact that the two could now sleep in the same room was only due to the Princess Consort’s insistence.

Lu Yuan: Is this secret realm retarded? It cannot even get the genders right.

The System’s buzzing sound rang out: [You are made of wood; strictly speaking, you do not have a gender.]

[Damn, the signal in this secret realm is really bad; I have only just reconnected with you.]

[Are you okay? The person beside you is…]

The System suddenly let out a heaven-shaking, earth-shattering scream: [Ahhhhh! The big villain! Ahhhhh! Why is he here!!!]

Lu Yuan’s face turned pale from the System’s electric noise; the shrill sound echoed back and forth in his sea of consciousness.

A maid hurriedly held him steady. The eldest daughter of the Lu family was a well-known sickly person who panted every three steps and rested every ten. Seeing her pale face, she was probably having an episode again.

The System quickly shut up and said in a coy whisper: [Sorry about that.]

It had just scared the life out of this system.

Ling Chuandu was already sitting at the table, leisurely enjoying the breakfast and tea brought by the maids.

The System looked around for a while, then became even more horrified: […Did you guys sleep together?]

Lu Yuan felt a headache. He bent his knuckles and rubbed his temples. “If your eyesight is bad, do not talk nonsense.”

Ling Chuandu raised his hand and crooked his finger toward Lu Yuan, as if calling a kitten or a puppy. “Come here.”

Adding up all the time from his previous life, Ling Chuandu had never dared to treat him like this. Lu Yuan felt anger simmering inside and suddenly did not really want to go over.

A murderous aura began to crawl onto Ling Chuandu’s brow. His eyebrows pressed down in displeasure, and his iron-gray eyes seemed to say, If you do not come over, I will haul your head over.

Lu Yuan: “…”

He thought it through. Lin Jiangxue was right.

Upholding the principle that one should not strike a smiling face, Lu Yuan sat down beside Ling Chuandu and offered a polite smile.

Then, the man opposite extended his hand, unceremoniously pressed one corner of his mouth, and said gloomily, “You are not allowed to smile like that.”

Lu Yuan resisted the urge to punch him.

Lin Jiangxue’s “earnest teachings” swirled in his mind: You must learn to flatter. Lu Yuan’s eyes lit up; what a perfect scenario for some practical application.

He retracted his smile and said respectfully, “You are right, I certainly will not next time.”

The principle of flattery is that no matter what the other person says, you just say they are right.

Ling Chuandu seemed even more displeased, as his tone grew cold, “And you are not allowed to speak like that, either.”

Lu Yuan: “…” Brother, you really have a lot of demands.

The maids looked at the unpleasant atmosphere between the two, exchanged glances, and tactfully took their leave.

Lu Yuan pursed his lips and turned his face away, gnashing his teeth inwardly. When I get back, I must eat out with Zhang Chafu more often to make up for my damaged soul.

Ling Chuandu thought Lu Yuan was angry. His expression was gloomy, then suddenly became somewhat bewildered.

How could someone be angry in front of him?

He had seen those who were shrinking in fear, those who were sycophantic, and those who were angry—but not an anger like Lu Yuan’s.

The anger he had seen was the kind with distorted faces, bulging veins, red eyes, a rage wishing to swallow him whole; it was hoarse curses and naked hate.

But Lu Yuan’s appearance… it was like a small temper tantrum, the kind of complaint that might be forgotten an hour later. Ling Chuandu struggled to suppress this odd thought.

Lu Yuan felt warmth spread from his wrist, smoothing every meridian in his body.

He looked down and saw a hand resting lightly on his wrist.

This hand looked bloodless, with only the fingertips showing a slight pink.

The owner of the hand was adjusting his internal energy for him.

The headache from just before disappeared at this moment.

Ling Chuandu withdrew his hand, revealing an expression that said, You are so useless.

Ling Chuandu: “Do you remember what you said last night?”

Lu Yuan: “Did I curse at you?”

Please tell me I did not reveal my true feelings in my dream and just start cursing at him.

Hearing this abruptly, Ling Chuandu paused while holding his teacup. He was now wondering if Lu Yuan really had something wrong with his brain.

He had seen Lu Yuan in Lin’an Town before, and he had heard gossip about Lu Yuan liking the young master of Baiyu Jing. Later, at Fengchi Sect, he saw the list Lin Jiangxue gave him and looked up this person with the same name.

The answer he received was always that this person had shallow talent, no ambition, concerning aptitude, and had been cultivating for many years but still lingered at the Foundation Establishment stage, without a shred of movement toward ascending.

In short, his brain was not working well.

It had been a long time since Ling Chuandu had seen someone speak to him so self-indulgently. He stared at Lu Yuan’s face for a long while and then suddenly could not help but laugh softly.

His sharp, thin lips were like a curved blade meant to claim lives; at this moment, the blade tilted up, and he said: “That, you did not.”

“But you called out for Shen Xun’an last night.”