Chapter 104: Xuanhuan Cultivation BL (Extra I)

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Chapter 104: Xuanhuan Cultivation BL (Extra I)

Hè Liancheng Extra:

“If I could choose, I would rather not have been the one who knew the most. Then, even my final hope would not have turned into despair.”

Clad in robes as red as blood, he could never wear them with that person’s ethereal grace. They were not vulgar, yet they could never blaze as brilliantly as true flames. A guardian who lived in the shadows, even standing in the highest position, would never compare to one who was truly heaven’s favored child.

He was a Scarlet Serpent and would always remain a Scarlet Serpent. Even with the phantom of the phoenix, even though he could wield the Phoenix Flame, he could never become a true phoenix. That phantom brought him only one thing—the certainty that the man was gone.

Living alone within the vast palace made it seem unbearably empty, yet he allowed no one else to enter. This had once been the Spirit Emperor’s residence, a place belonging to the Spirit Emperor alone. Now, he was the only other person permitted to tread within it. His Majesty had once said he would let the phoenix soar across the nine heavens. Since he no longer had the chance, that responsibility naturally fell to him, his subject.

Lying upon the bed where Miao Lichen had once slept, he could still faintly sense his lingering scent. Despite possessing the bloodline of the phoenix, there was only a delicate floral fragrance instead of the scorching scent of Phoenix Flame. Just like his expressions had always been, his smiles did not necessarily mean happiness, and his expressionless face did not mean indifference.

When facing those familiar to him, His Majesty rarely smiled, except when he was with that woman, Bai Yingqi. She was not only the miracle of his life, but also the one Hè Liancheng wished to envy, yet never could.

The Phoenix Flame ignited around him unconsciously. The red phantom circled through the room, and within it he seemed to glimpse that familiar face. His blood evaporated within the flames, the pain doing nothing to stop this self-inflicted remembrance. Had Miao Lichen once endured this same agony? He probably had. Without the proper method to control the Phoenix Flame, regardless of race, anyone who wielded it paid the same price.

Before the energy within his body was completely exhausted, Hè Liancheng withdrew the phoenix phantom back into himself. He could not bear to watch the construct of pure energy disperse into the air, just as he could not bear the thought of His Majesty leaving without the slightest attachment, not even leaving behind a body. Heavenly tribulation was the most merciless blade. It had severed His Majesty’s lifeline and extinguished every trace of his vitality. The outcome of that Heavenly Tribulation had shattered the hearts of the three greatest geniuses in the cultivation world, leaving them unable to let go.

The only difference was that he knew the truth, whereas the other two still clung to a sliver of hope. Hè Liancheng closed his eyes, replaying the final moments of the heavenly tribulation in his mind. The ending had been complete annihilation. Not even a soul remained, much less the possibility of reincarnation. His fingers unconsciously rested upon the feather mark at his collarbone. Even through his red robes, he could still feel its burning warmth. ‘ Don’t worry. It won’t be long before I follow you. I won’t leave Your Majesty alone, whether in the Yellow Springs, the Azure Heavens, or utter oblivion. ’

Only after resting for a long while did the weakness finally subside. He reached for the golden mask nearby. Meticulously crafted, it concealed not only his face but even altered his bearing. The only thing unchanged was the red robe he wore. The moment he put on the mask, golden threads spread across his body, covering his pale skin with a sacred aura, making him resemble the man who had once stood here.

Stepping out from the inner chamber, where only the Spirit Emperor himself had once been permitted, he found a young man dressed in red waiting outside. There was a faint resemblance to that person, yet no matter how similar he appeared, he could never compare. This was a descendant of the Feng Family, Miao Lichen’s closest blood relative. His expressionless face carried the dignity of royalty, yet the moment he saw Hè Liancheng emerge, unmistakable admiration flashed across his eyes.

Hè Liancheng placed a hand over his collarbone, caressing the feather mark beneath his robes. ‘Your Majesty… this is the child you chose. His admiration belongs only to you. Hè Liancheng disappeared together with that heavenly tribulation.’

This was the successor personally chosen by his Spirit Emperor before departing, one who could inherit the phoenix lineage through his blood. Miao Lichen had always been like this—arranging everything while no one realized it, yet never leaving himself a path of retreat. Hè Liancheng wished he could turn back time. If he had never desired greater strength and drunk His Majesty’s blood, perhaps Miao Lichen would have considered himself more when facing the heavenly tribulation. Perhaps… he might have survived.

But… There were no ifs . Now he had become the only Scarlet Serpent capable of wielding the Phoenix Flame, the undisputed strongest being in the Spirit Clan. Yet the reason he had wanted to become stronger no longer existed.

“Father.” Miao Jichen’s voice pulled the imposing ruler of the Spirit Clan from his memories. Whenever his father looked at him, it always seemed as though he were remembering someone else. Perhaps it was because of his mother. He had never known who his mother was, and none of the spirits knew either. Whenever he asked, his father would only become even sadder, leaving him unable to continue. He truly wished to know who could make the mighty Spirit Emperor Miao Lichen reveal such fragile sorrow.

Hè Liancheng bent down, placing a finger beside the golden markings on Miao Jichen’s face, feeling the warmth that belonged to a true phoenix. The Crown Prince of the Spirit Clan had already grown up. Hè Liancheng could finally devote himself entirely to cultivation… and eventually follow after his Spirit Emperor.

Ignoring the doubts of the Spirit Clan, he passed the throne to Miao Jichen. Yet he knew the successor Miao Lichen had chosen would never betray his expectations. Hè Liancheng entered seclusion within the Spirit Emperor’s sleeping chambers. Only when he sensed his own heavenly tribulation approaching did he finally emerge. Unlike everyone else, who treated the event as a catastrophe, his delicate face bore only peaceful acceptance.

Casting one final glance at the successor who had inherited the title of Spirit Emperor, he saw the young man firmly seated upon the throne, leading the Spirit Clan until no force in the cultivation world dared provoke them. The modern Spirit Clan was renowned above all else for its unity.

A faint smile appeared on Hè Liancheng’s face as he turned away. ‘Your Majesty, I have completed everything you entrusted to me. At last… I can follow you with peace of mind.’

He transformed the entire chamber into the strongest prison imaginable. Only after confirming that no one, not even immortals, could ever enter did he finally stop. From then on, he devoted all his time to the phoenix phantom, or rather, to remembering every fragment of the man he loved.

From the day Miao Lichen emerged from Nirvana, Hè Liancheng had become his subject. And only his subject. Yet even he no longer knew when he had begun harboring feelings he never should have held for the Spirit Emperor he worshipped like a god. Perhaps it had begun with that domineering personality, so unlike the phoenix before Nirvana. Or perhaps it was the countless commands that appeared overbearing but were, in truth, expressions of concern. Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered.

Hè Liancheng belonged to Miao Lichen. Both body and heart.

Leaving the phoenix phantom behind within the palace as its final guardian, he walked alone toward the maple forest known as the forbidden ground of the Spirit Clan. It still bore the scars left by the heavenly tribulation. Traces of d emonic, spiritual, and spirit cultivatio n energy lingered faintly in the air. Numerous formations had turned it into an impenetrable prison, yet the three of them had silently agreed to leave behind a single entrance.

Not long after he entered the maple forest, tribulation clouds gathered overhead. For the first time since Miao Lichen’s departure, Hè Liancheng removed his red robes. He respectfully laid the golden mask beside him. His black garments, trimmed with red patterns, were exactly what he had worn when he first met Miao Lichen. They had been his beginning and would become his end.

Thunder rolled through the heavens. Hè Liancheng closed his eyes without the slightest intention of resisting. By only the third bolt of heavenly lightning, blood had already begun trickling from the corner of his lips. It was not until the fifth bolt descended that he finally used a trace of demonic power, lifting a finger merely to wipe away the blood staining his lips.

When the sixth, seventh, and eighth bolts descended together, his body swayed violently amidst the lightning, yet a smile appeared upon his lips. They moved ever so slightly as blood slipped through them. One could just barely make out the words he wished to say—

“Your Majesty.”

A cultivator’s heavenly tribulation tested not only cultivation, but also the heart. During the tribulation, one might see the person they loved… or the one they hated. Fortunately, in his final moment, Hè Liancheng saw only the person he had always longed to see.

For in the instant before he vanished into nothingness, the last thing reflected in his eyes was the smiling face of the one he loved most.

Yan Yangxi Extra:

Demonic cultivators followed their desires. True demons elevated desire above everything else. Once the source of those desires vanished, was endless remembrance the only thing left?

Yan Yangxi stared intently at the sheet of paper before him. Even the hand holding the brush trembled slightly. At last, the brush slipped from his fingers and struck the floor with a crisp sound, yet it failed to rouse the man who had long since immersed himself in his own world. Carefully lifting the completed painting, he gazed at the figure dressed in red. The man carried an effortless elegance, with the faintest smile curving his lips, enough to intoxicate anyone who looked upon him.

“A’chen…” A gentle smile also appeared on Yan Yangxi’s lips. Tenderness, unimaginable to anyone accustomed to seeing only his cold brutality, softened his perpetually dark eyes. Holding the painting, he turned and hung it upon the wall. The enormous room was already filled with portraits of a single person. Always clad in red. Always bearing that exquisite face. Sometimes seated, sometimes standing, sometimes smiling, sometimes expressionless. Every single one was a masterpiece.

Taking out a painting identical to the one he had just finished, he walked out of the room. With an expressionless face, he handed it to his subordinate, as always instructing him to search for the person depicted within it. Although he knew it was impossible to find him. The Spirit Realm had not seen a phoenix ascend for thousands of years. But… he was not necessarily a phoenix, was he? That person also carried human blood. He comforted himself with that thought, perhaps because it was the only comfort left to him. Otherwise, he did not know whether he would truly lose himself to despair. Deep down, however, he already had his answer.

He was no longer the demonic cultivator he had once been, but a true demonic immortal who had ascended through tribulation. The world he now inhabited was no longer the cultivation world of the past, but the Immortal Realm longed for by cultivators, demonic cultivators, and spirits alike. The only thing that had never changed was his heart.

He did not know whether every demon’s desires were this overwhelming, so intense they nearly burned him alive. Every day, he immersed himself in memories, unwilling to awaken, simply because the person he longed for still existed within them.

He had even wondered what would have happened if the person who had saved him in the beginning had not been Miao Lichen. Then perhaps he would never have paid attention to him, never have fallen in love with him, and there would never have been the Yan Yangxi of today. But it was only a passing thought. He firmly believed that even if he were allowed to live his life all over again, he would still choose to meet him. Once someone had experienced love, they could never bear returning to a time when they knew nothing of it. Even if all that love ultimately left him was a room filled with ink paintings.

His fingers brushed across the face of the man in the painting, and Yan Yangxi’s lips curved into a faint smile, mirroring the one in the portrait. If he could, he wanted to become someone within the painting as well, to remain there with you forever… Yet he lacked the courage to paint the two of them together, because he feared he would become jealous of the person in the painting.

The deeper the love, the greater the tragedy. Yet only those who had truly loved would understand that no matter how painful love became, they would never regret it. He gave all his love to someone who had never once responded to it, and all his devotion to the one he wished to protect.

Lifting his brush once more, he began painting again, recreating the face that had long since been engraved upon his soul.

Throughout the Immortal, Demon, and Spirit Realms, everyone knew that Lieyan, one of the Three Great Demon Lords of the Demon Realm, loved nothing more than painting a beauty clad in red. He had replaced cultivation with painting, yet still became one of the Three Great Demon Lords. Likewise, everyone knew that Jiang Lingwen, the Holy King of the Immortal Realm, delighted in collecting Demon King Lieyan’s paintings, even interrupting his secluded cultivation for their sake.

Yet no one had ever known who the figure in those paintings truly was. They knew only that it was a phoenix named Chen…

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