Why is the Demon Venerable Like That? - Chapter 19

Lu Yuan’s meridians felt as if they were burning. Having once again forcibly used the power of his own bloodline, he had caused irreversible damage to this current body.

He suddenly coughed up a mouthful of hot blood. With a conflicted expression, he glanced at the golden blood in his palm, but after a long moment, he merely curled his fingers slightly, and the blood burned away into nothingness.

The system suddenly felt a shiver run through it. After struggling for a moment, it said: “Host, you are cracking…”

It meant that literally.

If one looked closely at Lu Yuan’s neck, a fine black line had appeared, like a crack in dry, decaying wood.

If one ignored the crimson color around Lu Yuan’s eyes, he looked quite calm.

After a long time, he stood in the shadows and rubbed his temples, his tone tinged with a hint of fatigue. “I lost my composure.”

The system: “…”

No, not at all! This is a normal reaction to encountering a murderer! Please, just attack him! I want to clock out!

Lu Yuan’s previous indignation had vanished; his eyes were like an ancient well, calm and unruffled.

Seeming tired of standing, he placed the sleeping Ling Chuandu back onto the bed, even thoughtfully tucking in the quilt for him.

Lu Yuan hesitated for a moment, then reached out to gently brush across Ling Chuandu’s forehead, completely erasing the memories of what had just occurred.

Seeing this, the system’s hanging heart felt completely dead.

Lu Yuan looked at Ling Chuandu’s sleeping face. He was rarely swayed by emotion.

But memories came rushing back with a roar, unreasonably intruding upon his thoughts.

Actually, on his birthday that year, Ling Chuandu had not intentionally tried to scare him in the dark.

At the time, he had spoken without thinking, rushing to find an excuse, his eyes darting around. That was when he saw some items placed where Ling Chuandu had just been standing.

It was an iron box he had never seen before, with some burned paper ashes nearby.

“Are you… burning paper?” Lu Yuan thought of his deathly dull expression, his heart tightening.

Ling Chuandu picked up the box and handed it to him, still expressionless. “It is not the kind of paper you are thinking of.”

Lu Yuan struggled to discern the unburned paper in the wooden box by moonlight, realizing they were merely prayer talismans.

He took a hurried glance, intending to return them to Ling Chuandu, but through the moonlight, he saw two familiar characters.

—Lu Yuan.

The calligraphy on the talismans was fluid; it looked as if it had been written many times over to achieve such perfect, single-stroke execution.

Some prayed for his physical health, others for a life of smooth sailing.

Lu Yuan opened his mouth, feeling as if he had forgotten how to speak. Realizing that standing there with his mouth agape was ridiculous, he stammered, “Are… are you… for me?”

Ling Chuandu replied, “Tomorrow is your birthday, so I came to pray for you.”

Lu Yuan turned this sentence over in his mind many times, not daring to confirm if it meant what he thought it did.

He was stunned. It felt as if he had arrived in a magical world; a world where he and Ling Chuandu were close brothers, a world where the other party was the type of person who would pray for him the night before his birthday.

Since when did he have such a good relationship with Ling Chuandu?!

This was simply too absurd.

…This was simply too absurd.

Lu Yuan’s heart was violently gripped. He was imprisoned by his own memories, trapped in a cage.

The Ling Chuandu who smiled, who held back tears, who looked at him with disdain, who was harsh on the outside but soft on the inside, who acted wildly and was filled with baleful energy.

In the end, he transformed into a young Ling Chuandu.

Many years ago, his master, Shi Chongguang, led a young boy to see Lu Yuan, telling him that this child would be his junior brother from then on.

He was a very thin, frail child who stood beside Shi Chongguang, staring at him blankly.

He looked nothing like a child at all.

This was Lu Yuan’s first impression of Ling Chuandu.

His eyes were like those of an old man on the verge of death; there was no curiosity, no nervousness, just a pair of dead, hollow eyes.

“Come here and meet your junior brother.” Shi Chongguang beckoned to him.

Lu Yuan was truly curious. His master had once said he would never take a second disciple, and he wanted to see who could make Shi Chongguang break that rule.

He bent down to look at the small child, then looked up and asked Shi Chongguang, “He looks too small. What if I accidentally make him cry during our sparring sessions?”

The corner of Shi Chongguang’s mouth twitched, and he endured it. “He is only a few months younger than you. Use more polite language; you are the Young Lord of Jiucang City, mind your manners.”

Lu Yuan paid no mind to Shi Chongguang’s words. He raised his eyebrows and reached out to pat the other’s shoulder. “I am your senior brother from now on.”

Ling Chuandu’s gaze shifted to Lu Yuan’s face, his lips pressed shut, not making a sound.

“Is he unable to speak?” Lu Yuan frowned and looked at Shi Chongguang.

Shi Chongguang patted the top of Ling Chuandu’s head and said calmly, “He is just in a bad mood.”

Suddenly, the sound of wind breaking nearby interrupted this introduction between fellow disciples.

Lu Yuan’s brow furrowed in displeasure. With a movement of his feet, he sidestepped an attack and looked coldly into the air.

A long sword grazed Lu Yuan’s side; just as it was about to hit the ground, a light upward motion sent it flying back into the air.

“Senior Brother Lu! I have come to learn from you!” The long sword moved according to the intent of the person who sent it, hanging in mid-air with a faint whistle.

The visitor wore blue robes and appeared to be about twenty years old, yet he called the younger Lu Yuan “Senior Brother.”

The moment Lu Yuan saw him, he felt incredibly annoyed. “I am not your senior brother, and my master does not have a disciple like you. Please leave Jiucang City immediately.”

The man in blue was a disciple of the Fengcong Pavilion. Some time ago, he had been defeated by Lu Yuan’s saber in a martial arts competition. Filled with resentment, he had been pestering Lu Yuan ever since, determined to settle the score.

He had been tracking Jiucang City’s movements for some time and had finally found his way here today.

The man in blue bowed politely from afar. “Senior Brother Lu, pardon the intrusion!”

While his words were perfectly polite, his sword in the air showed no such martial virtue. As he offered his pleasantries, it lunged directly toward Lu Yuan’s face.

The sword was like a blue shadow, the sound of its rapid movement through the air causing a sharp, acidic sting in the teeth.

On Lu Yuan’s face—which still retained a youthful air—his pupils deepened, and an aura of slaughter emerged. He nearly roared, “Bugue!”

Something carrying the force of ten thousand jun descended from the horizon. The sudden intent to kill was like a sharp blade, so intense that it made the man in blue unable to open his eyes.

A beam of black and gold light, carrying the power of a raging torrent, smashed toward the man’s back.

He dodged in a panic, but was still sent tumbling by the force, crashing to the ground.

The long sword the man had controlled with his mind had turned to powder, and standing before him was a long saber.

This saber was pitch-black, causing the earth to tremble, and cracks ran in all directions.

The scabbard was shallowly embedded in the ground, and several golden inscriptions slowly floated up from the surface of the scabbard before silently dissipating into the air.

Shi Chongguang sighed. He closed his eyes, his fingers dancing in the air as pale blue light barely visible to the naked eye, drifted from his hand toward the cracks on the ground.

Finally, the scattering cracks stopped and slowly closed.

Lu Yuan casually pulled up Bugue and held it horizontally against the man’s neck, saying coldly and indifferently, “You are very annoying.”

Although Bugue remained in its scabbard, the chill carried by the blade covered the man’s eyebrows in a layer of frost.

The man in blue lay on the ground, grinding his teeth. “You… when we sparred, you did not use your full strength at all!”

“Mmh.” Lu Yuan’s eyes were icy. He leisurely lifted Bugue, looking at the young man who lay there like a dead dog.

“What do you mean by ‘mmh’!” The man in blue hammered the ground. “Do you think it is very interesting to toy with people like us!”

Lu Yuan hugged his saber and looked down at him, his eyes downcast. He suddenly smiled. “Not at all, because I do not recognize you, and I do not remember your name.”

To me, you were just an opponent I met once. I simply judged how much force I needed to defeat you, and that was enough.

It had nothing to do with toying with you. Playing with cats and dogs is a pastime, but playing with ants is merely an unintentional trampling.

The man in blue understood his meaning. His face flushed red and turned white, a chaotic sight. Finally, he wiped his face and said, “Gu Qingjue of Fengcong Pavilion will come to learn from you again in the future. Until we meet again, Young Lord Lu.”

Shi Chongguang watched the man’s disheveled figure retreat and sighed helplessly. “Can you stop this habit?” He pointed to the cracks in the ground that had not yet fully closed.

Lu Yuan’s face was dark. “Is Jiucang City a wet market? People come and go as they please. Next time, the mountain guards must establish a record. Anyone who abandons their post again will be severely punished.”

“You…” The voice was dry, as if it had not been used in a long time.

Lu Yuan looked over upon hearing it; it was the child his master had brought.

“Are you my senior brother?” Ling Chuandu asked slowly.

Lu Yuan’s expression softened, but he still said impatiently, “It seems that not only can you not speak well, but your hearing is also not very good.”

Shi Chongguang coughed, his eyes full of disapproval as he looked at Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan had no choice but to offer a perfunctory grunt.

Ling Chuandu: “The person just now also called you Senior Brother.”

Lu Yuan replied helplessly, “That is just a polite way of speaking. I only have one junior brother, and that is you.”

It seems the junior brother the Master found also had a slow mind.

Why did he seem so wooden and dull?

“Then am I your only junior brother?”

Lu Yuan felt this question sounded a bit strange, but upon careful thought, the probability of Shi Chongguang taking another disciple was extremely low, so Ling Chuandu’s question was not actually problematic.

Thus, he nodded.

The wariness on Ling Chuandu’s body suddenly dissipated.

He only knew that Ling Qianzhi was his mother, and only his, so Ling Qianzhi treated him extremely well.

Therefore, he reached a strange logical conclusion: if Lu Yuan was his senior brother, and only his, could he not also monopolize all the kindness the other had to offer?

Lu Yuan was unaware of what Ling Chuandu was thinking, seeing only a wrinkled smile appear on the other’s thin, gaunt face.

He touched his nose uncomfortably: What an ugly child. I must have the kitchen prepare some medicinal meals to nourish him properly.

…

Perhaps at the beginning, they were not as distant as they had imagined.

At exactly which step did things go wrong?

Lu Yuan walked unsteadily to the doorway, flower shadows falling upon his face.

Touching the gap in his body where the divine blood had torn him, Lu Yuan closed his eyes, as if suppressing the fierce beast coiled within his heart.

The system looked left and right hesitantly. [Host, where are you planning to go?]

“Jizhao Temple.” Lu Yuan opened his eyes, his expression now completely clear. “This body cannot hold on much longer. I must go out quickly to find Lin Jiangxue to repair my soul.”

The system looked at the sleeping Ling Chuandu, hesitating.

Lu Yuan detected its movement, his eyes sharp. “He cannot die yet. I need to know his reason for taking action.”

The system felt Lu Yuan was being unreasonable. At this moment, it was completely unable to understand humans.

[But the fact that he killed you is set in stone, is the reason really that important?] The system trailed after Lu Yuan, chattering endlessly. [Perhaps it was just that you stepped out with your left foot first that day, and he did not like the look of you?]

Lu Yuan: “That sounds like a very interesting reason.”

As if the person who had died in the conversation was not him.

Lu Yuan commented dispassionately, laughing coldly. “I am truly curious.”

What was it that made Ling Chuandu endure the agony of his soul being torn by the voices of hidden feelings, yet remain unwilling to speak?

If this reason…

If this reason made sense.

Then, what would he do?