Chapter 4: Conference

Chapter 4:
Conference

 

TIME FLEW LIKE AN ARROW, the sun and moon alternating back and forth like a weaver’s shuttle.

Shen Qingqiu really didn’t want to use such a worn-out saying, but he just couldn’t find a better phrase.

Every day on Qing Jing Peak, he played the guqin, read books, wrote calligraphy, painted paintings, practiced his cultivation, occasionally nitpicked Luo Binghe’s food, occasionally bickered or sparred with Liu Qingge, and from time to time reported on his work to Yue Qingyuan. The days flew by, perfectly in synch with his life goal of “idling away to a ripe old age.”

Until the Immortal Alliance Conference finally arrived.

In the end, this day really did dawn. Shen Qingqiu had been too carefree; he’d forgotten about the first major climax of the novel.

The first step of Luo Binghe’s climb to the top, on his journey to marrying every ideal woman, as well as his first step toward his blackened heart, after which his soul would never again be washed clean—and he had actually managed to forget it!

So when Shen Qingqiu received the gilded invitation, he stared at it in shock for a long time.

The Immortal Alliance Conference was Proud Immortal Demon Way’s first major climax. At the same time, it was also an important turning point in the novel.

The conference was held once every four years, and it was an excellent opportunity for cultivators to pick out new talent, or for said new talent to establish their reputation. Before every conference, the major sect leaders conducted discussions, and the exact structure of the proceedings differed, but there was always a list of the top rankers.

Whether you came from a prestigious sect or from the poorest parts of the jianghu, as long as your performance at the conference was outstanding, your name would be inscribed in gold upon a tablet, and you would become renowned across the land.

Before this event, Proud Immortal Demon Way’s performance online had been steadfastly lukewarm. But once the Immortal Alliance Conference Arc debuted, the reviews, comments, subscriptions, and tips all soared into the heavens.

It wasn’t only because from that point forward, “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky abandoned the last of his already minimal moral principles and poured woman upon woman into the story, adding interminable sections of titillating descriptions and blush-inducing, barely legal passages one after another—there was another important “it” factor. It was, in fact, the main element that had first compelled Shen Qingqiu to follow the novel until the end.

The demonic beasts!

The reason “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky—an author who hadn’t even properly researched cultivation settings and was often confused as to whether characters were at the Foundation Establishment or Nascent Soul stages—rarely received straight-man scolds on this element was because the cultivation setting wasn’t the selling point of his novel.

Instead of being categorized as a “cultivation” novel, Proud Immortal Demon Way should have been called a “monster fighting” novel. The “fighting” component way outweighed the “cultivation” component. As a cultivation novel, it was out-and-out filled with landmines, but as a monster handbook, it was pretty entertaining.

To the point, very soon, Sheng Qingqiu would directly face those savage monsters who came in all shapes and sizes, as described in the book.

More importantly, very soon, it would be time for him to personally, mercilessly strike Luo Binghe, his demonic heritage revealed, into the Endless Abyss.

The gears of fate (a.k.a., the plot) had already started to turn…

Shen Qingqiu was silent for a long time. He finally tossed the invitation into Ming Fan’s arms for him to file away.

Luo Binghe was receiving Meng Mo’s guidance within the dream realm every day, and he was progressing at lightning speed. He had long since assumed responsibility for many things. Shen Qingqiu often happily assigned some of Cang Qiong Mountain’s trivial internal tasks to him. Once he became older, he had also been tossed missions to eliminate demons or help people down the mountain—in part so that he wouldn’t spend every day tagging after Shen Qingqiu.

Though Shen Qingqiu was comfortable being waited upon, he wasn’t sure if Luo Binghe’s development had gone awry or something. Wasn’t he sticking to his master a little too closely…?

Shen Qingqiu would often wonder: Was it because I doted on him too much? Should I besmirch myself a little, as appropriate, to prove to the System that I’m firmly a villain?

If things kept going as they were, he was afraid that when the time came, he would be unable to harden his heart and throw Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss.

However, though Shen Qingqiu told himself this, every time he finished thinking about it, the next time he saw Luo Binghe—and that pure and innocent face, that hard-working figure—he would always, immediately, praise him out of habit.

“You finished copying the scrolls/rescued the people/found the things/are done cooking? Hm, well done.”

After that praise, he’d forget his original intentions.

Ming Fan filed the invitation away and saw that Shen Qingqiu’s complexion wasn’t especially good. It occurred to him that since that stinking brat Luo Binghe had gone down the mountain, Shizun had only picked at the kitchen’s fare. In the last few days, he hadn’t eaten properly at all.

“Shizun, shall this disciple prepare some congee?” Ming Fan asked.

Shen Qingqiu really had no appetite and waved him away. “No need. You can go.”

Ming Fan didn’t dare say more, and he obediently took his leave, but his heart flooded with tears. In the last couple of years, that brat Luo Binghe had become Shizun’s absolute favorite.

I can’t serve Shizun even a single mouthful of congee!

Notably, Ming Fan didn’t consider that perhaps the issue was with his own cooking skills.

After some time, more footsteps approached.

“Didn’t I say there was no need?” Shen Qingqiu asked.

“This disciple rushed a considerable distance, all the way from the outer provinces, and Shizun won’t give me even a single glance before refusing me?”

The voice was gentle and clear, and it even carried a hint of teasing dismay. Upon hearing it, Shen Qingqiu almost fell to the ground along with his chair. He jerked his head around.

A seventeen-year-old youth, slim and tall and graceful, dressed in white robes, lips turned upward in the hint of a smile, gazed at him with a pair of shining eyes.

The longsword on Luo Binghe’s back was Zheng Yang, drawn from Wan Jian Peak. Its name, “righteous sun,” complemented the current Luo Binghe’s temperament well. The sword’s blade glistened with a sacred light, and it was a good, high-quality weapon. When Luo Binghe had pulled it free from the rock wall, it had elicited a wave of surprised exclamations and praise from various sect members.

But compared to Luo Binghe’s true personal sword, it was a toothpick.

Shen Qingqiu composed himself. “Why have you returned so quickly this time?”

Luo Binghe sat in the seat next to his and steadily poured a cup of tea, then pushed it toward Shen Qingqiu’s hand. “The disaster wasn’t difficult to handle. I also missed Shizun terribly, so I rushed back without stopping to rest.”

These words sounded rather slick and insincere, but since Luo Binghe was the male lead, he had the ability to make the slickest of smooth-talking matchlessly warm and genuine.

On Shen Qingqiu, this attack was…super effective!

Shen Qingqiu picked up that cup of tea and took a sip. It was a fragrant snowy mountain blend plundered from Qiong Ding Peak, but he couldn’t taste it at all.

“The Immortal Alliance Conference is about to begin,” he said.

Luo Binghe had long known about this. “Would you like this disciple to draft a list of Qing Jing Peak’s participating disciples and give it to Shizun to check?”

These past couple of years, Shen Qingqiu had handed all manner of miscellaneous tasks big and small to Luo Binghe to deal with. After all, for now Luo Binghe was so sweet, obedient, and useful, his work thorough and meticulous. Shen Qingqiu could think of absolutely no reason why he should do these things himself.

Before finalizing anything, Luo Binghe always conscientiously asked Shen Qingqiu to look over his work to check for any problems. Shen Qingqiu always wanted to say: Actually, you don’t need me to check it, seriously—you’re much better at handling these things than I am!

Instead, Shen Qingqiu said, “When you finish the draft, report directly to Zhangmen-shixiong.”

Luo Binghe nodded. He had more to say, but he sensed something slightly off. Shen Qingqiu seemed to be paying extra attention to him today. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Why does Shizun keep looking at me?” he asked. “Could it be that this disciple was gone for so long that Shizun also missed him?”

“I’m not allowed to look at someone I raised?” asked Shen Qingqiu.

Luo Binghe chortled. “Of course Shizun is allowed. Am I pleasing to look at?”

Shen Qingqiu shook his head while smiling, and he considered his next words. “Binghe.”

“Yes?” Luo Binghe’s expression instantly turned serious. He had realized that Shen Qingqiu had something important to say.

Shen Qingqiu stared into his eyes. “Do you want to become stronger? Stronger until you are without rival, until no one beneath the heavens would dare challenge you?”

Luo Binghe had possessed an answer to this question for a long time now. Sitting squarely, without the slightest hesitation, he looked straight back. “Yes!”

This resolute answer made Shen Qingqiu release a breath of relief within his heart. “Even if in order to achieve that, you had to suffer through pain, torment, and countless tribulations, to the point that your body and heart were about to collapse—you would still want to become the strongest?”

“Binghe does not fear suffering and tribulations,” Luo Binghe said slowly. “I only wish to be strong enough to protect the people and things important to me!”

This answer finally settled Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts a little.

That’s right. Luo Binghe, for the sake of protecting the myriad harem of jade- and flower-like beauties you’ll embrace in the future, you must become strong!

Shen Qingqiu’s heart was still unwilling, but when he remembered that this suffering was something the protagonist had to experience in order to break free of his chrysalis and become a butterfly, he had no choice but to adjust his mindset.

Although he was already adept at brainwashing himself thus, it wasn’t like he felt the slightest bit of happiness at the thought, just because he’d forced himself to think it so many times.

 

***

 

Three days later, each of Cang Qiong Mountain’s Twelve Peaks had prepared their participant rosters and headed to the conference.

This time, the Immortal Alliance Conference was set to convene at Jue Di Gorge, a rolling mountain range with complex terrain that extended for many kilometers.

People of established reputation were conscious of their rank and didn’t participate in the conference, i.e., they didn’t compete with their juniors for the limelight. There was no need, and it would have been beneath them. Therefore, the twelve peak lords and members of their generation didn’t sign up. The cap on the number of spots was nevertheless high—naturally, the more the better—and in the end, around one hundred well-equipped individuals set out in grand style for Jue Di Gorge.

So many people flying on their swords would have been too high-profile and disturbed civilians, so they did travel by carriage.

A cultivation novel where they sat in carriages and rode horses all day! Shen Qingqiu still couldn’t understand why Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had stuck to this setup, but no matter how much it merited roasting, after three years, one simply ran out of words. At this point, he was numb to it.

The majority chose to ride horses, their bearing heroic and valiant. However, firstly, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t good at riding and didn’t want to fall and break his neck. Secondly, he disdained all exposure to the wind, sun, and rain. It wasn’t comfortable, nor elegant, and so he wormed his way into a carriage under a crowd of watchful eyes.

Someone else had long since entered the carriage before him.

“A big, strong man like you trying to steal my spot!” she said with contempt as he lifted the curtain with his fan and slid inside.

This woman with beautiful eyebrows, a full chest, and thick, gorgeous hair was Xian Shu Peak’s master, Qi Qingqi.

In the original work, Qi Qingqi and Shen Qingqiu had no real relationship and very few interactions. However, over the past few years, Shen Qingqiu had occasionally worked with her. He found her straightforward and fierce, and he got along with her decently well.

“I am frail and indisposed,” Shen Qingqiu said with perfect composure as he used his fan to shoo her into giving him room.

Qi Qingqi moved to do so, but she refused to spare him her words. “Pampered and spoiled! Being so delicate and coddled is totally unbefitting of a cultivator at Core Formation stage! Will you also be needing someone to serve you snacks later?”

Shen Qingqiu looked like he’d just had an epiphany. “Right. Many thanks to Shimei for the reminder.”

While speaking, he rapped on the carriage wall with his fan’s guard.

A short while later, the carriage curtain lifted. Luo Binghe smiled. “Shizun. Snacks, water? Or is your waist sore?”

A lively and energetic white horse; a handsome and extraordinary youth. With the sun beaming down from above, both seemed to shine before their eyes.

“Your Qi-shishu would like some snacks,” said Shen Qingqiu.

Luo Binghe immediately withdrew an exquisitely wrapped snack from his robe and offered it to them. It looked like he’d long been prepared for this. “If Shizun has any more orders, please call for me.”

Only then did he let down the curtain.

Liu Qingge spurred his horse on past them with a powerful and resounding humph.

“Of course,” said Shen Qingqiu. He lowered his head and opened the wrapping. “Dragon’s beard candy. Not bad.” He turned to pass the snack to Qi Qingqi. “Want some?”

Qi Qingqi found it difficult to describe her current emotional state.

More or less, it was indignation. Luo Binghe was a good disciple, so considerate and with such immense spiritual energy, and Shen Qingqiu, of all people, was the one who had raised him.

In truth, “indignation” didn’t cover it. She just didn’t know there was a phrase that nailed the feeling, and it was “my damned dog eyes!”6

Qi Qingqi refused to look at Shen Qingqiu as he ate the dragon beard’s candy, but she made one final attempt.

“Even Mingyan is riding a horse!” As long as she could make Shen Qingqiu feel a scrap of shame, she would claim victory!

It just so happened that Shen Qingqiu had nothing better to do, so he looked outside. Indeed, Liu Mingyan sat straight on her horse, her face covered with a veil, her personal sword Shui Se on her back. A faint breeze blew by, fluttering the veil and giving her an air of ethereal lightness.

This picture was far too pleasing to the eye. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but gaze at her for a while, sighing. “Beautiful beyond comprehension.”

“Pah!” Qi Qingqi snapped at his face. “Don’t look at my beloved disciple with such covetous eyes!”

Luo Binghe heard this back-and-forth, and his face paled.

But Shen Qingqiu didn’t notice his expression at all and continued eating while gazing at Liu Mingyan. He was in the mode of someone in a theater before a movie, eating popcorn and drinking soda while waiting for the ads to end and the film to begin.

That was Liu Mingyan! The male and female leads were in the same venue—how could there not be sparks flying and amorous feelings budding between them?!

As Luo Binghe saw his master staring fixedly at Liu Mingyan, the hand with which he held his reins couldn’t help but tighten, the knuckles turning white.

“Beautiful beyond comprehension?” he muttered. She wasn’t even showing her entire face. No matter how beautiful she was, could she be better-looking than him?

Luo Binghe honestly wasn’t a narcissist, he’d just always been very self-aware of how he looked to others. He didn’t gleefully revel in his appearance, but he also wouldn’t downplay it for the sake of false humility.

After a long time, during which Shen Qingqiu showed no sign of diverting his gaze, Luo Binghe could no longer stand it. He lightly urged his mount with his whip, and the white horse quickly moved forward until its bridle was even with Liu Mingyan’s.

Luo Binghe inclined his head and smiled in greeting. “Liu-shimei.”

Liu Mingyan startled, then nodded shallowly, returning the greeting. “Luo-shixiong.”

Oh, oh, oh—oh, oh, oh! It’s started, it’s started!

A once in a lifetime chance had actually come—with his own eyes, Shen Qingqiu could watch a peerlessly handsome man and a beautiful woman from a book ride together bridle to bridle. He was secretly overjoyed, and he couldn’t resist leaning out further to watch.

Luo Binghe saw in his peripheral vision that Shen Qingqiu’s gaze hadn’t moved, and in fact he was staring at them even more intently. His face grew shadowed, his heart stuffy and teeth itchy. So he laughed and chatted with Liu Mingyan while sneakily urging their horses faster and faster, until they were far enough away that Shen Qingqiu could no longer see them without leaning his whole torso out of the carriage.

Shen Qingqiu could only resume his proper seat, disappointed.

How could he forget? When male and female leads were cooing sweetly at each other, a third wheel could never hang around like a glaring fluorescent light, nor could there be a meddlesome audience.

Although, if that child had grown up so far that he wanted to hide his romances from his elders…was it possible that his rebellious stage had finally arrived?

 

***

 

Jue Di Gorge.

It spanned seven mountain peaks and overflowed with verdant greenery. Scattered every which where within it were bright springs and dark rivers, waterfalls and wondrous stones, deep valleys and soaring peaks. As the name “Hopeless Land” implied, some of its terrain represented “the brink of despair”—yet in the next moment, as if confirming that every cloud had a silver lining, you would spot paths winding through the peaks, indelible and unerasable. In Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, such a reminder was vital for both adventurers and homebodies.

The new talent participating in the conference followed the agreed-upon arrangements and stood in well-ordered rows surrounding a gigantic, natural stone platform before the gorge.

Disciples from the four great cultivation sects made up the main share of participants. Cang Qiong Mountain was in the lead, followed closely by Zhao Hua Monastery, Tian Yi Temple, and Huan Hua Palace.

Of the four sects, Cang Qiong Mountain was the most comprehensive. The twelve peaks each had their own strengths in a variety of fields. Meanwhile, the monastery and temple sects were naturally those who fostered Buddhist monks and Daoist priests, respectively.

Huan Hua Palace was more complicated. Their sect followed the teachings of a number of different schools, had an aptitude for the Daoist art of concealment, and interacted the most with the secular world. The level of their techniques was unclear, but on one point there was no doubt: they were absolutely the wealthiest of the sects. They contributed the most funds to every conference.

Other than these four, numerous small and mid-sized sects were also participating. Therefore, the final number of those who had signed up and gathered at Jue Di Gorge was well over one thousand.

What had been a cold and silent gorge entrance suddenly burst to life with more than one thousand people. Animals that had never seen people before were all frightened away. It was unusually lively in all meanings of the word.

A high dais had been constructed at the entrance to the gorge, and from there, all the non-participating cultivators would observe the battles. Various colored flags representing each of the sects fluttered and swayed upon it. Seats for the sect leaders were at the highest level. Cang Qiong Mountain’s delegation, led by Yue Qingyuan, took their place on the dais.

Shen Qingqiu sat in the back next to an elderly man of great poise and a head of white hair. This man had greeted their group earlier and nodded to him again now.

“Immortal Master Shen,” he said.

Huan Hua Palace’s Old Palace Master was also the master of Luo Binghe’s birth mother. Shen Qingqiu returned the greeting in the mode of someone meeting the emperor’s relative.

Not long after, a member of Huan Hua Palace walked onto the stone platform. After all, they’d contributed the most money, so no one could argue with their choice of host. Below the platform, the over one thousand competitors gradually quieted, focusing their attention on listening to the host describe the proceedings.

The host’s martial foundations were deep, his breaths plentiful and long-lasting. Every last person at the mouth of the gorge, including those on the soaring dais, could clearly hear his voice in full.

“The conference will last for seven days. Once everyone enters the gorge, we will erect a giant barrier and cover the entirety of Jue Di Gorge. For those seven days, the participants who enter Jue Di Gorge will be isolated from the outside world and will remain ignorant to what happens there. The observers will follow the situation within via the spirit eagles let loose above the valley.

“Over a hundred varieties of demonic creature have been loosed within the valley. The total number nears five thousand. Every time you take down a creature, you will receive a prayer bead from its body. The creatures are of different difficulty levels, and the spiritual qi within the prayer beads will likewise vastly differ. Is everyone wearing a gold cord around their wrists?”

The people beneath the platform raised their wrists together, revealing a sea of gold cords. It was quite a magnificent sight.

The host continued. “When you obtain a bead, thread it onto the cord. Your scores will automatically be displayed on the ranking charts outside.”

The ranking charts were displayed opposite the dais. Although there were eight charts in total, the crowd’s attention would be squared on the names of the top one hundred scorers on the first, gold-inscribed tablet at the top—and at times, they would be watching only the top ten. This embodied the principle of “No first place among scholars, no second place among martial artists.”7

Finally, the Huan Hua Palace host delivered a severe warning. “Sect disciples are forbidden from fighting over and stealing each other’s beads! The moment anyone is found to be fighting or using underhanded methods to steal beads, their right to participate will be revoked, and they will be banned from the conference for three sessions!”

Three sessions meant twelve years.

This group of new talent was like a mix of carp and dragons. Many were young and inexperienced, but quite a few were slippery old bastards, scoundrels who’d scurried about for years and years. If duels weren’t forbidden, the organizers had reason to fear that the entire conference would devolve into incomparable chaos, and lives might well be lost. Therefore, this rule was exceptionally necessary.

Shen Qingqiu was bored to the point that his bones itched. Though he seemed to be staring intently at the scene beneath him, his mind had long since wandered off.

Suddenly, from the side, several female members of a certain sect leader’s entourage whispered amongst themselves.

“Which sect is that disciple from? He’s incredibly handsome.”

“Those white robes really suit him. Maybe even better than they do Gongyi-shixiong.”

“But Gongyi-shixiong isn’t just extraordinarily handsome, he also possesses incredible spiritual strength. How can you compare them?”

“Tut-tut, you just can’t stand when anyone criticizes Gongyi-shixiong, can you? Sure enough, you defended him right away—admit it!”

“A-admit what? Stupid girl, what did you just say? I dare you to say it again!”

A burst of mortified, frustrated anger was followed by giggling play-fighting.

As soon as he’d heard them, Shen Qingqiu knew who they were eyeing. The figure in the crowd dressed all in white: the refined, outstanding Luo Binghe.

In truth, they weren’t the only ones secretly watching and discussing him. Even a number of the girls in the crowd of participants below the stone platform were glancing stealthily at Luo Binghe, their jade-like cheeks dusted with blushing red.

The girls kept their voices very low, but given the quality of cultivators present, their five senses all incredibly sharp, of course they were overheard. These girls were too young to be careful, and they let others hear their private conversations. Fortunately, their seniors were all very considerate and let their sect leader, who was already holding a hand to his forehead and feigning sleep, keep his dignity. Everyone pretended that they hadn’t unintentionally eavesdropped, their gazes straight and unflinching.

In an effort to break the awkward pall, someone coughed twice. “Why don’t we do as we have before and make our predictions about which of these new talents will stand out the most?” he said with a smile.

Shen Qingqiu’s spirits rose.

The words “make our predictions” weren’t actually referring to divining fortunes, but instead to gambling.

To be clear, it was about betting on the talent you had your eye on. Cultivators needed entertainment too, after all.

Also, the stakes used in these bets weren’t tacky, monetary items like gold and silver, but artifacts, spirit stones, or even the names of disciples who would be sent to study under other sects. They also wouldn’t bet anything of vital importance—but it was still one of the Immortal Alliance Conference’s traditional entertainment activities.

Anyone as dignified as a first-class sect leader, like Yue Qingyuan, had to be conscious of their status and wouldn’t indulge in things like this, but naturally many others were willing to join the fun. A short moment later, the dais was roaring with enthusiasm, dozens of bets being laid. Quite a few bet on their own disciples—for example, Qi Qingqi bet on Liu Mingyan’s victory.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t even need to think, and straightaway he bet five thousand spirit stones on Luo Binghe.

Such a daring move caused quite a ripple. Even Yue Qingyuan paused in his polite exchange of greetings with the abbot from Zhao Hua Monastery, his gaze shifting toward Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu saw the way Yue Qingyuan seemed about to speak but didn’t. “Zhangmen-shixiong, this is just a bit of fun,” he said. “To encourage Binghe a little.”

“Just for fun.” Liu Qingge sneered. “If you shattered the entirety of Qing Jing Peak, would you even find a thousand spirit stones in the rubble?”

Shen Qingqiu clammed up. Indeed, he wouldn’t!

When placing a bet here, you only needed to write it down. The accounts were settled afterward, and you didn’t need proof of funds. Because everyone here had name and reputation, there was no fear that debts would be blown off. Shen Qingqiu knew that betting on Luo Binghe was a sure win, and so he had raised the stakes. After all, no one else knew exactly how many assets he possessed.

Yue Qingyuan was probably afraid of the sect being embarrassing before outsiders, and he rushed to smooth things over. “All right. Lower your voices. Of course there would.”

“Zhangmen-shixiong, you’ll be his guarantor?” Qi Qingqi butted in, getting right to the point.

“I will,” said Yue Qingyuan.

“If you lose, who pays?” Liu Qingge asked.

“Me,” said Yue Qingyuan.

“If I win, who keeps the payout?” asked Shen Qingqiu.

“You,” said Yue Qingyuan.

An agreement was reached, and everyone other than Liu Qingge rejoiced. Shen Qingqiu happily went to make his bet.

The gathered cultivators quietly wondered why they’d never heard of Luo Binghe. You couldn’t really blame them. The current Luo Binghe’s modus operandi was low-key and modest, and he was unwilling to claim credit. Every time he did a good deed or completed a task, he quietly took his leave. This prevented his reputation from growing, so his skills and talents had never shone. Those unaware of the situation assumed Shen Qingqiu was doing exactly as he’d claimed and just making a show of good faith to encourage his disciple.

Below the dais, after the participants took their oath together, they formally entered the venue. There were many of them, so twelve different entrances had been erected, through which the participants would enter in assorted groups of mixed sects. The participants, shaking with nerves, stepped into Jue Di Gorge and began their expeditions.

On the dais, the members of the older generations, who’d long since achieved success and made their reputations, had finished their round of betting. They sat with unruffled composure, some of them even exchanging pointers, chatting, or chewing on melon seeds.

Within the venue flew more than a hundred spirit eagles controlled by experts. The silver rings around their talons were inlaid with special crystals. As they soared, a panoramic view of the people and scenery below was projected onto the dais’s numerous crystal mirrors, the effect similar to that of surveillance equipment.

Someone smiled from ear to ear. “As expected, Gongyi Xiao is in first place right after entering!”

On the gold-inscribed tablet, the first ten names all shone with bright light. At this time, “Gongyi Xiao” had already reached the first-place position. Right after his name was the number twelve. That is to say, a mere hour in, he’d already eliminated twelve demonic creatures and obtained twelve prayer beads.

Even Liu Mingyan, close behind in second, had only obtained six prayer beads. A large gap had already appeared.

A youth dressed in white was reflected on a crystal mirror, his figure elegant and unrestrained like drifting clouds and flowing water, yet his actions were quick as lightning. In an instant, he shredded a shrilly screaming vengeful ghost into scattered smoke.

An unceasing stream of excessive praise rose in response, and Shen Qingqiu smiled without speaking.

This Gongyi Xiao, although he looked favored and blessed, overflowing with incredible presence—actually, enh, he was at best only half a dollar better than his fellow cannon fodder.

He was the typical character trope who was handsome, of good lineage and surpassing talent, loved by girls, full of mettle, and accomplished in his youth—but unfortunately, there was also the protagonist, so he was doomed to serve as the lead’s cannon fodder foil. Though most bets for top ranker had been placed on Gongyi Xiao, sorry to say, he wouldn’t be first for long before Luo Binghe kicked him off the spot.

Luo Binghe’s name was currently in the middle of the pack. The number after it was a mere “one.” Yet Shen Qingqiu wasn’t worried at all. He knew that once tonight arrived, and once the curtains lifted on that breathtaking, climactic event, Luo Binghe’s name would soar unstoppably up the charts!

The first day of the Immortal Alliance Conference approached midnight. A round, golden moon hung high in the sky, and the dais gleamed bright beneath the lamplight.

Among the many crystal mirrors, Shen Qingqiu finally found one displaying Luo Binghe. Currently, he was slowly moving through the forest, spotlessly clean and without a trace of exhaustion. His eyes were like stars, and it seemed as if they could see right through the crystal mirror.

However, he wasn’t alone.

Most of the participants moved by themselves. If people teamed up to fight the monsters, how would they divvy up the beads? At most, they might cooperate with those they were familiar with, forming teams of two or three shixiong and shidi.

There were also some incredible female cultivators, but on the whole, these girls’ strength and mental fortitude was lacking, and they often required help. Their teams were mainly composed of shimei and shijie who got along well, and they spent their time playing around instead of actually working. Basically, they looked quite hopeless.

Yet following after Luo Binghe were seven or eight other individuals, and all of them were either delicate girls or young disciples. This group drew a great deal of attention. Some of the audience even stopped watching Gongyi Xiao’s heroic exploits, switching over to size up this bloated team and finding it too strange to look away.

In the group, the one walking closest to Luo Binghe was a Huan Hua disciple in light yellow robes, holding a night pearl to light the way.

The girl was graceful and elegant, but she walked with a slight limp, like she had sprained her ankle. It was probably an injury she had sustained while fighting monsters.

“Luo-shixiong, I truly apologize,” she said. “You saved us, and now we’re troubling you. If you weren’t protecting us, you would be so far ahead already… We are a burden.”

“We are all cultivators. It’s our obligation to look after each other,” Luo Binghe said, eminently proper.

Shen Qingqiu had come to know Luo Binghe’s early-stage white lotus mindset like the back of his hand, and he didn’t find this strange.

His student was fighting monsters while also looking after this crowd of weaker fighters—women and young disciples. Hence, he hadn’t shot up in the rankings. Otherwise, with his ability, he would have already effortlessly defeated Gongyi Xiao. Even Ming Fan ranked higher than Luo Binghe right now… But it didn’t matter—Luo Binghe would have a second wind!

My disciple is the most awesome in the world! If he weren’t so good, so kind, and so easy to take advantage of, none of you could even dream of defeating him!

Shen Qingqiu never thought to reflect on what this agitated attitude of his meant.

Yue Qingyuan smiled. “Qingqiu, that little disciple of yours has great moral character.”

Shen Qingqiu smiled behind his open fan, quietly accepting the compliment.

Qi Qingqi humphed. “Exactly. It’s impossible to tell that he was the one who taught the boy.”

Other observers said a few additional words of praise. However, they weren’t necessarily sincere. What use was good moral character? The Immortal Alliance Conference valued power. In their eyes, Luo Binghe’s actions seemed rather childish.

But when Huan Hua Palace’s Old Palace Master, sitting by Shen Qingqiu’s side, saw Luo Binghe’s face through the crystal mirror, he let out a barely audible “eh?” and almost stood up.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t glance over, but he understood well enough. Luo Binghe was beautiful, and he looked quite like his birth mother. The Old Palace Master had seen this face and, thinking the junior disciple’s similar appearance only coincidental, had become nostalgic about his own favorite. He could scarcely have imagined that Luo Binghe was the child of precisely that beloved lost pupil.

On the other side, in Jue Di Gorge, Luo Binghe was calmly considering what to do with this crowd of vulnerable disciples.

From a moral standpoint, he couldn’t just abandon them; they were from Huan Hua Palace and had barely started training. But he also didn’t want to miss the chance to shine in the Immortal Alliance Conference and win honor for Shizun.

As Luo Binghe was mulling over how to extricate himself from this situation, Shen Qingqiu thought he was rolling around with maidens and making sparks fly.

There was the first maiden to sleep with Luo Binghe! Qin Wanyue, the graceful and subdued little shimei!

The biggest impression this maiden had left on Shen Qingqiu was her role in helping Luo Binghe lose his virginity. Later, her role was to be a victim in the constant harem intrigue. Only someone as…special as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky could manage to occasionally write a stallion novel’s harem more in the flavor of The Legend of Zhen Huan.8

I’d rather read ten thousand words describing how ghost-head spiders mate than read about Sha Hualing tearing into Qin Wanyue! Thank you!

Watching this parade of people trailing close behind Luo Binghe, treating him like their personal savior, Shen Qingqiu grew unhappy.

Some of these disciples honestly hadn’t acclimated and so couldn’t yet demonstrate their skills. They would be fine after a little more time to adjust. But some were truly ignorant and incompetent, yet they refused to back out of the competition. They wanted to ride Luo Binghe’s coattails so they could fumble together some beads and rise in the ranking.

If this were the black-hearted Luo Binghe, he’d have slaughtered them all in seconds without even blinking.

People sure do take advantage of kindness, huh!

They pressed forward for a while, and every low-level monster that leapt from the darkness to attack them was eliminated with pretty much only flicks of Luo Binghe’s fingers. His sword never left its sheath. Yet he still couldn’t pick up the pace.

Why?

A female disciple from Huan Hua Palace leaned on Qin Wanyue and began to hiccup and cry. “Jiejie, my feet hurt so much.”

In front, Luo Binghe stopped, but he didn’t turn around. He lowered his head and rubbed his temples.

Nervous, Qin Wanyue lowered her head and spoke quietly to the girl. “Wanrong, endure it for a bit longer, all right? We have to walk a little faster.”

“But my feet really hurt—I can’t walk anymore!” Wanrong-meimei whined. “We’ve been walking all day, and there’s nowhere to take a bath. I’m so uncomfortable.”

A number of untrained disciples in the group agreed, one after another. If Shen Qingqiu had been the one in charge, he would have long since revoked their right to participate and kicked them out of Jue Di Gorge.

If your feet are so delicate, don’t sign up for the Immortal Alliance Conference. And if you do, then whatever, but why drag others down? Look at Liu Mingyan! The difference between you is vast. No wonder she’s the number one female protagonist!

But there was nothing he could do about Qin Wanrong. After all, the beautiful sisters Qin Wanyue and Qin Wanrong were members of Luo Binghe’s harem. Therefore, according to universal convention, no matter how dedicatedly they dug their own graves, they wouldn’t die.

Shen Qingqiu’s heart filled with a strange annoyance.

Luo Binghe, you… In the future, when you’re gathering your harem, can you put more thought into quality? Don’t welcome just any decent-looking girl into your arms. The inconsistency in your harem’s standards makes this master’s heart hurt for you!

Qin Wanyue sent another look at Luo Binghe’s back. “Little Sister,” she said quietly, “we’ve already made a lot of trouble for Luo-shixiong…”

She still wanted to rely on Luo Binghe and try to make a name for herself in the Immortal Alliance Conference and earn some reputation. If her sister foolishly annoyed Luo Binghe, it would go badly for her.

“Luo-shixiong is such a good person—he won’t mind,” Qin Wanrong said innocently. “Isn’t that right, Luo-shixiong?”

Luo Binghe finally turned, a faint smile still on his face—peerlessly handsome, utterly faultless—and did not speak. But for some reason, Qin Wanyue inwardly shivered in fear.

However, Qin Wanrong had cotton for brains and took his smile as acquiescence. Singing a carefree tune, she swept over to a nearby creek like a gust of wind.

It’s coming! Shen Qingqiu’s gaze tensed.

Luo Binghe started. Given what she’d just said, he thought she was going to bathe. Fortunately, this little girl wasn’t that eccentric, and she only shook off her shoes and socks to dip her feet into the creek.

Those were the river’s upper reaches. What if someone downstream wanted to drink…?

Shen Qingqiu mentally lit a candle for any such unlucky disciples.

A number of the other disciples soon followed Qin Wanrong’s example, and just like that, the little crowd started to laugh and play.

Luo Binghe was completely helpless as he watched. It would have been awkward to approach them, so he could only call from far away, “Wading in the water at night isn’t safe. It’s best if we finish and leave right away.”

Shen Qingqiu felt this was a bit odd. In the original novel, surely Luo Binghe hadn’t stood so far away? He didn’t think he had remembered wrong. At this time, Luo Binghe, out of worry (or out of “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s selfish desire to write fanservice) went to the creek with the others. Then he enjoyed the alluring show of all the women slowly rolling down their stockings… Textbook foot fetish material!

Luo Binghe pleaded with the disciples, but a few had even crossed to the other side of the creek, chatting and laughing.

“It’s all right! Luo-shixiong, you come too!”

Even the sect leaders watching through the crystal mirrors were speechless.

Shen Qingqiu had no expression on his face.

Luo Binghe, you still won’t go? If you don’t, you’ll miss the plot!

Qin Wanyue knew her little sister was being rather inappropriate, and she cautiously apologized to Luo Binghe.

“Luo-shixiong, I’m so sorry,” she said. “This is the first time Shimei and the others are participating in the Immortal Alliance Conference…” Truly lovable and pitiful. She bit her lip like she was making an excruciating decision. “If Luo-shixiong feels burdened, leave us and go. It’s all right…”

These words, together with that expression on the verge of tears, were wildly insincere. But after hearing her plea, any man with a bare minimum of virtue would find himself unable to do as she suggested.

Before Luo Binghe could reply, an ear-piercing scream came from the creek. His face suddenly changed, and he shoved past Qin Wanyue, whose beautiful face had lost all color, as he dashed toward the creek’s bank.

The audience watching from the crystal mirrors stood in terror.

“What’s going on?” Luo Binghe asked in a forceful voice, his sword before him.

Five or six disciples had been washing their feet and playing in the creek. Now two of them had disappeared, and one of the missing was Qin Wanrong.

You see! Told you that you should have gone earlier! Wonderful, a perfectly good wife is now gone, just like that! Shen Qingqiu thought, frustrated and disappointed. Now you can’t complete the Qin Sisters bouquet for that grand threesome scene in the future. Now what?!

Moreover, despite everything, he’d never thought that a member of the protagonist’s harem could actually get herself killed.

“I don’t know what happened!” a disciple screamed. “The water suddenly turned black, and Shijie and the other were swept under by something!”

Luo Binghe rapidly dragged the stupefied disciples still in the creek up onto the bank. But just as he reached out to grab the last person, they fell over like they had lost their footing. Everyone stared as the water closed over the disciple’s head and they disappeared with their eyes wide open.

At the same time, a black smog billowed through the creek. Shen Qingqiu peered through the crystal mirror. The smog was actually countless black strands, smooth and silky like a woman’s dark hair. From between the strands seeped scarlet blood, diluted by creek water. They were thicker and more disgusting than Sadako’s9 hair.

Someone on the dais cried out in shock. “Nu Yuan Chan!”

In Jue Di Gorge, Luo Binghe had quickly identified the monster in the creek as well. He sent sword glares into the water as he cried, “Get far away from the water! It’s the Demon Realm’s Nu Yuan Chan!”

For a while, the billows and billows of the hair-like demonic creature’s body swirled within the water. Suddenly, like they were burping after a full meal, the black strands spat out a few objects with a stream of bubbles: three bodies that had been sucked clean of flesh and blood, leaving only drenched corpses of skin and bone.

The pores on the dead bodies were abnormally large. That was because many strands of hair were still attached to their skin, thrust into their pores, hungrily sucking out the bodies’ remaining flesh, blood, and spiritual essence.

Leaving no pore uninvaded, diving into any opening it could find—this was one of the Nu Yuan Chan’s most terrifying characteristics.

This scene scared the disciples by the creek witless. Wails and screams filled the forest as they threw themselves behind Luo Binghe to hide. At the sight of the horrible state of her sister’s body, Qin Wanyue nearly fainted.

Luckily, she was smart enough to not faint for real. Otherwise, in all this chaos, who would bother to help her escape?!

Nu Yuan Chan was an amphibious creature. After sucking three people dry underwater, it was itching to climb the bank and search for new targets. Luo Binghe’s expression was icily severe. He snapped his fingers, igniting a burst of flames at his fingertips. Then, boosting the flames with spiritual energy, he flicked them toward the lurking demonic beast. As soon as they touched the beast’s hair-like strands, the flames flared into an inferno, forcing the black mass of hair to retreat into the water with all speed, leaving it afraid to come onto the bank.

Luo Binghe executed this set of actions in a single smooth sequence, radiating formidable might, utterly relentless. Shen Qingqiu internally held up a sign: Ten points to Luo Binghe!

Luo Binghe picked up the night pearl that Qin Wanyue had dropped in her panic and raised it high. Like a shining beacon, it calmed everyone’s hearts.

“Don’t stray, stay together!” he shouted.

Then he took out a piece of the standard equipment all the participants had been given, a rescue firework, and fired it into the sky.

The rescue fireworks were given to disciples to call for help if they encountered a monster that they were unable to handle. The Immortal Alliance Conference hadn’t released any excessively dangerous monsters, and if a participant fired a rescue firework three times, they automatically forfeited their right to participate. Therefore, in all past conferences, no one had really used the fireworks unless they were really backed into a corner. However, at that moment, glittering bursts of fireworks rose one after another in the sky over Jue Di Gorge. This should have been a beautiful scene, but at that moment, not only did these fireworks not seem gorgeous, they made the onlookers’ insides twist in fear.

Every blossoming firework represented a disciple who had encountered an exceedingly dreadful monster—whose life was in danger.

“The crystal mirrors! Look at the crystal mirrors!”

Bloodcurdling shrieks and wails of distress came in an unending stream from the mirrors. Some disciples were already corpses on the ground, some were still struggling, soaked with blood, gazes full of terror.

“Why? Why here… There shouldn’t be!”

“Someone, help! Shifu, save me! Shige, save…”

A hoarse cry burst from one mirror, followed by the mournful shriek of a spirit eagle. The picture went out, becoming a flat, black screen.

Everyone stared, uncomprehending.

“What’s going on?”

That hoarse cry had definitely been the cry of a Demon Realm bone eagle, a type of aerial demonic beast that was as fierce as it was bloodthirsty. It had no doubt torn apart the spirit eagle, shattering its crystal into dust.

Beasts that swam in the water, beasts that walked on land, beasts that flew through the air… These fierce demonic entities had absolutely not been part of the conference’s plan.

Though Shen Qingqiu had mentally prepared for this long ago, as he watched the all-encompassing scene of chaos play out before him, his scalp went numb, and his fingers chilled. He realized that he would be unable to do as he’d expected. He couldn’t just pretend he was watching the climax of an ultra-realistic show.

Outside Jue Di Gorge, pandemonium had broken out on the dais. Tian Yi Temple’s cultivators said sternly, “What’s happening? The demonic beasts chosen for the Immortal Alliance Conference were determined via strict rules and meticulous selection. How could something like the Nu Yuan Chan, which resides only in the Demon Realm, find its way in?!”

Many Huan Hua Palace disciples had already died. The Old Palace Master shot to his feet. “Open the barrier!”

The giant barrier over Jue Di Gorge was supported by nearly a hundred monks from Zhao Hua Monastery. The Zhao Hua Monastery abbot immediately began to cast a long-distance voice transferral spell to tell the monks to release the barrier

“You cannot!” Yue Qingyuan said.

The Old Palace Master started. “Sect Leader Yue, what is the meaning of this?”

Over a hundred of Cang Qiong Mountain’s disciples were in Jue Di Gorge, yet Yue Qingyuan refused to open the barrier to let the trapped escape. Obviously he had an exceptional reason.

Shen Qingqiu had long since figured it out. He responded in Yue Qingyuan’s place. “Once you release the barrier, the disciples will be able to escape, but so will the demonic beasts trapped within—and they will scatter. There are villages only a few kilometers from here. The situation would become even more grave. Sect members and disciples at least have the ability to contend with the beasts, but the common people with no spiritual energy at all…”

No elder or sect leader on the platform had the words to retort, and they fell into a dead silence. At this time, no matter how great one’s cultivation, Core Formation or Nascent Soul stage or anything between, there was no way to reverse the course of events.

“If we cannot open the barrier to let them out, then…then what should we do?” asked a cultivator, at a loss.

“If they can’t leave, then we must enter,” said Liu Qingge.

The members of Cang Qiong Mountain exchanged a look in tacit agreement.

“Fellow cultivators,” Yue Qingyuan said gravely. “Someone must be behind today’s incident. They hope to use these demonic beasts to wipe out the new talent of the cultivation world, eliminating its future pillars in one fell swoop. For now, we can only maintain the barrier. But are any of our fellow cultivators willing to enter the gorge with Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to clear out the demonic beasts and rescue the participating disciples?”

To carve a path of blood into the gorge, clearing out all the demonic beasts, would require not only martial power but a great deal of courage.

The Old Palace Master was the first to respond. “It would dishonor Huan Hua Palace to refuse.”

Huan Hua Palace had sent the most participants to this year’s conference and had invested the most as well. They were the party least able to take the loss.

Once someone took the lead, others followed, volunteering one after another. Even if a scant few cowards were in the crowd, by now they had been reminded that their own precious, talented disciples were also trapped.

Shen Qingqiu stepped forward, ready to stand with the group volunteering to provide assistance, when Liu Qingge also stepped forward slightly and used his sword sheath to block Shen Qingqiu’s way.

Expression unchanging, Shen Qingqiu pushed the sheath aside with two fingers. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Your poison,” Liu Qingge said succinctly.

“That’s right,” Yue Qingyuan agreed. “Your ailment from Without a Cure has yet to be resolved. Entrust the safety of Qing Jing Peak’s disciples to us.”

If Shen Qingqiu’s condition suddenly acted up after he entered Jue Di Gorge, and his spiritual energy stalled while he was surrounded by swarms of demonic beasts, then neither heaven nor earth would be able to help him.

Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “How can a master hide and relax on a dais while his disciples are in danger? If I can’t even protect my own disciples, I don’t deserve to be the Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak.”

Also, he was a vital character who needed to trigger a crucial plot point. If he wasn’t on the scene, they couldn’t keep filming, you know?

Ding-dong, System notification: 【 Making the villain more three-dimensional by crafting an honorable image, B-Points +30. 】

Shen Qingqiu internally rolled his eyes. Are you handing me a piece of candy before you stab me?

Yue Qingyuan had failed to dissuade him, as had everyone else. “Then you must be careful,” he said reluctantly. “If you can’t manage it, you must use a voice transferral spell to call us for help.”

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t so pessimistic about his ability to handle demonic beasts. His confidence in his own cultivation and spiritual power aside, his interest in the demonic beasts of Proud Immortal Demon Way had far surpassed his interest in all those flavors of women. He might not have remembered where any given female protagonist liked to go stargazing with Luo Binghe after being slighted, and he sometimes was unable to match names to characters, but he definitely remembered every demonic beast’s attributes and weaknesses with exacting clarity!

His knowledge of the plot aside, if you had to call something Shen Qingqiu’s golden finger…it could only be this!

In Jue Di Gorge, Luo Binghe had just calmed a crowd of terror-stricken junior disciples. In this sort of situation, they couldn’t afford to fall into disarray. If they encountered a new demonic beast or any of them strayed off, the situation would only grow more disastrous.

The night wind whipped by, carrying wails and howls from all around. It was impossible to tell if they came from human or demonic throats. The faint-hearted were already curled up and sobbing, and Qin Wanyue’s face was deathly pale. But at the sight of Luo Binghe leaning against a tree, Zheng Yang clasped hilt-up within his crossed arms, calm yet alert, protecting them against any attacks that came from the darkness…she couldn’t stop the trace of tender fondness welling up within her.

If Shen Qingqiu were there, he would have grown incredibly excited, his gossip’s soul on fire: Girl, you’ve fallen in love with him!

Suddenly, rustling noises came from the nearby shrubbery. Luo Binghe’s gaze sharpened, and he gathered spiritual energy in his palm, ready to strike.

The rustling in the brush grew louder and louder, closer and closer. Everyone’s hearts climbed into their throats. Perhaps they were terrified beyond belief, because not a single one let out a scream.

Suddenly, there was a plop, like someone had collapsed to the ground. A round object rolled out of the bushes.

It was a human head.

Both of the head’s eyes were tightly closed, its face covered in blood, its hair disheveled like a chicken’s nest. Normally, this sight would have been frightening. But at present, a harmless corpse head was much better than a man-eating demonic beast, so quite a few disciples even sighed in relief.

“This… Does anyone know which sect this shixiong belonged to?” Qin Wanyue asked, her voice trembling.

Disciples from the various sects stepped closer to check, one after another, but all of them sighed in relief.

“Not one of ours.”

“Never seen him before.”

Luo Binghe gazed into the dark depths of the shrubbery, thinking. If the head was here, the body was also nearby. It would be better to go check its sect uniform. He strengthened the spiritual flow in his palm and walked into the dark.

As expected, a stiff corpse lay beyond the shrubbery, wearing aqua-blue cultivator robes. One of Tian Yi Temple’s newly accepted disciples. Luo Binghe saw only the hem of his robes before sighing. Newly accepted disciples like this one only came to the Immortal Alliance Conference to gain experience. They had never imagined that they’d be drawn into such an unpredictable catastrophe and lose their lives.

He looked farther up and suddenly froze in shock.

There was still a perfectly good head on top of the corpse’s neck.

Then where had that other head come from?

Zheng Yang had already left its sheath before Luo Binghe doubled back. As its white light overflowed, he yelled, “Get away from the head!”

Before he finished speaking, the head lying quietly askew on the ground suddenly opened its eyelids.

It met the disciples’ gazes with wide, glowering eyes—then eight spindly spider legs, segmented and barbed, stretched forth from somewhere at the bottom of its neck, and it leapt up in a single bound.

The closest person couldn’t dodge in time, and the monster jumped onto the disciple’s head. With a crazed howl, the disciple drew his sword and wildly swung it around, forcing everyone nearby to hurriedly duck away. Luo Binghe dared not attack carelessly in case he stabbed the disciple’s head instead of the monster. The result would be too horrible to imagine.

The sensation of something so terrifying crawling back and forth on your head would be enough to frighten anyone to death. In complete despair, the disciple changed the direction of his sword and swung it toward his own head. Before he could strike, those eight spindly spider legs had found their target and ferociously speared into his temples.

He went instantly stiff, and like his tongue had twisted into knots, he was unable to yell a single word. The spider legs sticking into that human head bored deeper and deeper, and the disciple’s whole body began to twitch unceasingly. After only a moment, the eight legs drew back out, leaving nothing but twin rows of gory holes in his temples. Everything within his skull had been sucked clean, leaving it completely empty.

The scene was utterly horrible. Even Luo Binghe remained frozen for a while, unable to react.

Having eaten its fill of brains, that human-headed spider monster crawled up and down the corpse, letting out a mournful scream like an infant’s wail.

Just then, an arrow of light made of pure spiritual energy flew through the night and pierced its still howling mouth, skewering a hole clean through it.

Amidst the sudden silence and everyone’s dazed stares, Shen Qingqiu rubbed his sore ears, slowly shook out his sleeves, and with a snap of his fan, murmured, “Shut up.”

This arrival of his was truly quite low-key.

“Shizun!”

At the sight of Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe was far happier than shocked.

After all, since the mayhem began, he’d anticipated that Shen Qingqiu would absolutely be so worried that he would personally enter the gorge to rescue them.

Shen Qingqiu swiftly righted himself. He swept his gaze over the many disciples coming to surround him and asked, “Is anyone injured?”

“Other than those shimei at the riverside…and the shidi who died just now, we’ve thus far suffered no other casualties,” said Luo Binghe.

“You’ve been through a lot,” said Shen Qingqiu.

Luo Binghe smiled, his eyes shining brightly. “This disciple was only doing his duty.”

Shen Qingqiu glanced at Qin Wanyue, whose eyes were still red. You can still smile? Smile?! Don’t you know that one of your wives is dead?!

Now that a powerful senior had appeared to rescue them, every one of the disciples acted like they’d seen their mother, stopping just short of clinging to Shen Qingqiu’s thighs and wailing.

“There’s no need to panic, nor reason to fear,” said Shen Qingqiu. “The sect leaders know the situation within the barrier, and a large number of seniors have already entered the gorge to help. Protect yourselves well. We’ll be able to break out soon.”

His words were like a narcotic. The youths who’d been frightened out of their wits absorbed them and became at ease.

“Shizun, what exactly was that thing?” asked Luo Binghe.

When it came to Proud Immortal Demon Way’s demonic beasts, he’d really asked the right person. Shen Qingqiu spoke with great familiarity, like he was listing his family treasures. “It’s no surprise you’ve never seen one; that was a ghost-head spider. Mean-tempered and terrifying to behold, it can mimic the sound of crying infants and uses that to lure prey. Once the prey approaches, it uses the suction pads below its head to firmly grip the top of its prey’s skull. Its eight legs are incredibly sharp and can pierce right through bone, allowing it to drain the brains of living creatures.”

As Luo Binghe listened to this excruciatingly detailed explanation, he was filled with both admiration and awe. “To think such an evil creature exists in this world. This disciple is truly too ignorant.”

Ever since Luo Binghe apprenticed under Meng Mo, Shen Qingqiu had been able to provide him with less and less guidance on martial and sword techniques. This rare chance to show off as a master before his disciple secretly left Shen Qingqiu feeling an immense sense of satisfaction. It was like he’d finally found his long-lost teacher’s halo.

“Ghost-head spiders are a demonic rarity,” he went on. “Being unsuited to the Human Realm’s environment, it’s been many years since any sightings of them, so naturally they don’t appear in most reference guides. Next time you see one, remember to directly strike its temples. The one we just saw was a male, and that’s fortunate. The females are even more terrifying—”

They hadn’t yet said much to each other when more rustling came from the leaves overhead.

One by one, heads suspended upside down from threads of white silk descended from the trees.

Shen Qingqiu’s expression completely changed.

Ghost-head spider cries attracted large numbers of them to encircle and attack their prey.

He swept his fan, releasing a powerful gust of wind and snapping dozens of silk threads. The ghost-head spiders smashed into the ground and thudded like overripe fruit.

“Go!” yelled Shen Qingqiu.

Luo Binghe sprang to action. While the ghost-head spiders were dazed and reeling, the entire group broke out into a run. Master and disciple, one in the lead carving a path, the other bringing up the rear, together sandwiched the bloated procession. The two ends slaughtered foes until it rained blood, the air thick with the stench of carnage. Ghost-head spiders were agile and possessed incredible jumping ability. But as they flew and leapt through the air, the barrage of spiritual blasts fired by master and disciple punctured them like sieves.

Once Luo Binghe knew how to deal with these beasts, it was like he had been blessed by divinity. He could practically pierce two or more in a single blow with his eyes closed. The scene overhead was a mess of blood and gore, anguished wails and monstrous howls.

Even with all they accomplished, in the end, there were still too many, and they proved impossible to defend against. Just as Shen Qingqiu started to worry about when that goddamned hack of a poison would next act up, he felt his spiritual power stagnate, and his next strike came up empty.

Truly, speak of the devil!

Shen Qingqiu swiftly redirected the flow of his energy into a physical attack. With a flip of his hand, his fan sliced the ghost-head spider lunging toward him horizontally in two.

Luo Binghe had been paying keen attention to Shen Qingqiu’s condition. He noticed something was off and asked, “Shizun?”

“It’s nothing,” Shen Qingqiu rushed to say. “Focus on yourself.”

Fortunately, under Shen Qingqiu’s leadership, they’d already reached a particular area. As if the ghost-head spiders had encountered an invisible barrier, they didn’t dare advance and instead wailed and howled while falling back, until they at last withdrew into the shrubbery and trees—and vanished.

Shen Qingqiu let out a sigh of relief.

Delicately panting, her expression uncertain, Qin Wanyue asked, “Senior Shen, why were those demonic beasts unwilling to approach this place?”

“Have you forgotten what kind of mystical flower grows in Jue Di Gorge?” asked Shen Qingqiu.

In truth, the one who’d forgotten was him.

Forgive me for not remembering the flower’s name!

Luo Binghe very considerately remembered for him, speaking the name right away. “Thousand-Leaves Fresh-Snow Lotus!”

Shen Qingqiu finally realized why he had been unable to remember the name.

The number of mystical flowers named “Something Snow Whatever” or “This and That Lotus” was such that they were more numerous than old memes. Like hell anyone could remember!

“Correct…” said Shen Qingqiu. “This is indeed the Thousand-Leaves Fresh-Snow Lotus. This flower has grown within the depths of Jue Di Gorge for thousands of years. Its spiritual qi is extraordinary, and furthermore, it is the natural bane of creatures from the Demon Realm. It emits an innate barrier that repels demonic beasts. Therefore, as long as we’re within its protected zone, we won’t suffer too many attacks.”

“The natural bane of demonic creatures?” Luo Binghe suddenly asked. He’d been listening with rapt attention the entire time. Now intense sparks seemed to ignite within his gaze, which flickered faintly with a peculiar quality.

Shen Qingqiu thought it strange. “Yes?”

“Then Shizun, could this spray of Thousand-Leaves Fresh-Snow Lotus cure demonic poison?” Luo Binghe asked.

Shen Qingqiu was horrified. That look… Luo Binghe couldn’t be…hoping to pick the mystical flower and cure him, right?

Stop. Do not pass go. The girl you’re supposed to pick the flower for, Qin Wanyue, is right next to us, watching—and you want to deflower it in her presence, and for a big, strong man to boot?

Leave your wife some dignity, all right?!

“We should handle the crisis before us first,” Shen Qingqiu said quickly.

But Luo Binghe wouldn’t let it go. “This disciple asks for Shizun’s instruction.”

“It cannot do what you imply,” said Shen Qingqiu.

“Has Shizun tried it before?” Luo Binghe pushed. “If we don’t try, how can we know? This disciple knows that Shizun doesn’t want him to take chances, but if we don’t take this one, this disciple will never be at peace!”

This really isn’t the time! Why must you be so filial at this critical juncture?! I can’t tell you that the only way to completely cure the poison is to take a trip to pound town with you, okay?!

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t say any of this in such terms. His expression became cold. “Has this master indulged you such that you think you can willfully fool around even at a time like this?”

To tell the truth, over these past few years, due to Shen Qingqiu’s strange desire to preemptively atone—along with certain other sentiments—he’d never spoken to his disciple with even the slightest bit of harshness. So, once he did, Luo Binghe first startled. Then, as expected, he obediently shut his mouth. But his gaze remained obstinate, and he refused to sheath Zheng Yang, obviously unwilling to back down.

Just as the two reached a deadlock, the dense overgrowth of grass and leaves rustled, and a person stepped out. Behind him came a group of battered and exhausted disciples who had no doubt endured a bloody struggle.

On guard, Shen Qingqiu looked his way. As soon as he came face-to-face with the newcomer, he felt like a giant hammer from the sky had smashed into his temples.

In truth, this person’s appearance could have been considered proper and handsome, it was just that in his every word and action there was an inescapable air of sleaziness. At the sight of Shen Qingqiu, he smiled and returned his sword, flowing with light, back to its sheath.

“So it was Shen-shixiong,” he said. “Meeting up with you puts my heart at ease.”

At ease. At ease my ass. With you here I can’t be “at ease,” okay?!

The person in front of him was the main culprit behind this catastrophe!

Shang Qinghua, a character that Shen Qingqiu had mentally roasted before with “He goes to Qinghua University, well I even took Beijing University’s exam,”10 was the Peak Lord of An Ding Peak. At the same time, he had another important identity: he was a spy, a pawn planted many years ago by the demons, and he had orchestrated the disaster at the Immortal Alliance Conference.

Long ago, Shang Qinghua had been only one of An Ding Peak’s many insignificant and nameless disciples. Then he’d been captured by the demons, who had forced him to become a mole.

Ah, no, he hadn’t really been forced—he happily took on the important task of being a mole without even a hint of discomfort.

Secretly backed by the demons, Shang Qinghua’s road became smooth sailing. He swiftly rose through the ranks until he actually attained the position of Peak Lord of An Ding Peak.

However, he still wasn’t satisfied. And why not? Because it was An Ding Peak!

As soon as you heard the name, “stable and settled,” you knew it wasn’t a place for the ambitious. This peak’s tradition and specialty was completely in line with its name—logistics.

So of course, the entire peak from top to bottom, including the peak lord, were like bricks, to be moved wherever they were needed. Send some cheap laborers here today, assist with supplies there tomorrow. Mountain gates broken? Get An Ding Peak to fix it. Missing a carriage driver? Get An Ding Peak to send someone. This month’s expenses over budget and you need money? Get An Ding Peak to file a report.

Even if this kind of peak lord’s professional competence trounced that of Lanxiang and New Oriental,11 could they be called impressive? Were they imposing? Were they cool, awesome, insane, badass, or hyped?

Did they have the dignity of a peak lord?

Even a talented, low-level disciple from another peak would have more to brag about.

So, Shang Qinghua became a demon flunky without hesitation. He took it upon himself to help the demons conquer the Human Realm and committed all kinds of evil.

Shen Qingqiu’s stomach hurt as soon as he saw the guy. “Shang-shidi,” he said. “As you approached, did you see a large demonic beast nearby?”

Shang Qinghua froze. “A large demonic beast? That… There wasn’t one.”

Shen Qingqiu’s heart thumped. There wasn’t?

The large demonic beast in question was one of the plotline’s key devices. In the original work, Luo Binghe’s demonic heritage was exposed because someone released a Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python at the Immortal Alliance Conference.

To protect the innocent, Luo Binghe engaged it in a life-or-death struggle. The Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python’s destructive power and body were both enormous. Of course he couldn’t defeat it. What to do if he couldn’t win?

Activate SEED12 mode.

In so doing, Luo Binghe exposed himself to Shen Qingqiu. Only then did Shen Qingqiu have the excuse to strike him down: eliminating one’s companion for the sake of justice. And when he struck his student down, he enabled Luo Binghe to level up.

Thus far, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t sensed the demonic qi of the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python, much less heard its signature moonward howl—described in enigmatic fashion as “like that of both a python and a rhinoceros.” Now Shang Qinghua said he hadn’t even seen it. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help being on his guard. Without this key plot device, surely the System couldn’t ask him to suddenly strike Luo Binghe without any justification?

He couldn’t help but glance at the silent, unspeaking Luo Binghe. The child was still struggling with the matter of whether he should pick the flower to cure his master’s poison. There was a stubborn glint in his eyes, as if he still felt a little discontent.

Discontent my ass! Come on, I’m doing this for your own good. If you’re going to pick flowers, don’t give them to the wrong person, thank you!

“On my way here, we lost quite a few disciples from various sects,” said Shang Qinghua, tone full of grief and lamentation. “They were all future pillars of the cultivation world. The person who released these demonic creatures is truly poisonous and shameless, underhanded and vulgar, cruel to the point of insanity!”

Shen Qingqiu was speechless. Weren’t you the one who released those creatures? Are you really okay with using these lines to attack yourself? Although if you don’t mind, that’s fine…

He hadn’t finished his mental roast when, without warning, the earth began to shake.

People staggered and fell all over the place, terrified and confused, their questioning voices merging into one.

Shen Qingqiu’s pupils contracted.

There was no mistaking the sensation of a magnitude 7.5 earthquake.

The Endless Abyss had finally been opened.

The so-called Endless Abyss was on the boundary between the Human and Demon Realms. A liminal space, it was full of peril and the unknown. Twisting, tearing vortices through space, raging flames, and burning magma were everywhere to be found.

The disciples on the scene had fought the entire way there, and their bodies and hearts had long been completely exhausted. After that violent quake, most of them tumbled to the ground. Only Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe, and Shang Qinghua managed to stay standing.

Since the Endless Abyss had been opened, that meant something demonic would definitely appear from the other side. The three held their breaths in anticipation, silently waiting and on full alert.

The figure of a man slowly emerged from the shadows.

As soon as Shen Qingqiu saw that ice-cold face and aloof expression, he knew who it was. He shot a glance at Shang Qinghua, whose whole face had gone white. Shen Qingqiu wanted to laugh, but he was unable to.

Why would Luo Binghe’s future subordinate, his magnificent right hand—and best buddy for committing evil deeds, murder, and mayhem—show up right here and now?!

Mobei-Jun was a pure-blooded demon, a supremely orthodox demonic second-gen. In the future, he would inherit his family’s territory on the demonic border in the north, and after that, he would spend all his time appearing and disappearing at will, idling his life away, completely indifferent to everyone else. However, this maverick was destined to get beaten up by a Luo Binghe who had suddenly activated his overpowered abilities. Thereafter, he would mysteriously capitulate to the protagonist, to the point of letting himself be ordered about. From then on, Luo Binghe would have an exceptionally badass-looking errand boy and loyal sidekick.

But to be clear, according to the original timeline, there are still five hundred chapters before it’s your turn to debut, Great Master!

“Who is this distinguished one?” Shang Qinghua yelled as he rushed forward. “Why have you come to this place?”

Isn’t that your real boss? Wasn’t he the one who ordered you to release those dangerous creatures into Jue Di Gorge? No, no, please go right ahead and keep pretending.

Mobei-Jun tilted his head. Half of his handsome silhouette sank into the darkness, a chilling sight. With a half-hearted flick of his finger, he flung Shang Qinghua into the air with sudden force. Shang Qinghua crashed into an old tree and fainted, blood spurting unceasingly from his mouth—spurting until Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but sigh with respect.

Such effort, such dedication. Bro, you sure do a lot for your career!

After paying his respects, he sighed again. He’d known it would go this way. In the end, he would still need to step in.

Holding his sword before him, Shen Qingqiu spoke, neither humble nor haughty. “A demon?”

This line was pointless bullshit. Anyone who couldn’t see those murky billows of demonic qi would have had to be blind.

A white figure flashed past him. Without saying a word, Luo Binghe had moved to stand in front of his teacher.

They’d just argued, and they now faced a powerful enemy, yet he still played the role of a human shield without hesitation. It would have been a lie to say Shen Qingqiu was entirely unmoved.

But the more moved he was, the more he felt that what he was about to do was just too cruel. Shen Qingqiu wished that his student had done nothing at all.

“Binghe, stand down,” he said.

Luo Binghe did not reply, and he did not leave. He calmly met eyes with Mobei-Jun, entirely unaffected by his imposing aura.

Mobei-Jun let out an “eh?” of curiosity, like he’d found something that aroused his interest a little.

“What disciple has to shield his master?” snapped Shen Qingqiu.

“You are a disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain?” asked Mobei-Jun.

“Disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain’s Qing Jing Peak, Luo Binghe, thanks this distinguished one for his guidance,” Luo Binghe replied coldly, his tone sarcastic.

Mobei-Jun sneered. “The immortal acts unlike an immortal, and the demon acts unlike a demon. Interesting.”

At this, Shen Qingqiu finally caught on to something. Could it be…that Mobei-Jun’s appearance was a substitute for the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python’s role in advancing the main storyline?

“Immortal” probably referred to Shang Qinghua, who was lying off to the side and playing dead while occasionally remembering to cough up blood. Though clearly a cultivator, he tirelessly labored for the Demon Realm—indeed completely unlike an immortal. That was a fair accusation. As for the “demon,” who on the scene could this refer to other than Luo Binghe?

Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts turned and whirled. He wasn’t sure if Mobei-Jun could really see Luo Binghe’s hidden bloodline with a single glance.

Luo Binghe saw his master’s furrowed brow and feared he was angry at his own disobedience. “Shizun, he won’t let any of us go. It’d be better to use all our strength and fight this battle together.”

That’s true, but it’d also be fucking useless. But Shen Qingqiu said, “If you stay here, you’ll lose your life in vain.”

“Dying for Shizun or dying together with Shizun, either one is something this disciple would gladly do,” said Luo Binghe.

Mobei-Jun scoffed. “You’d do battle with me?” The following “such foolish arrogance” was left politely unspoken.

Good thing you didn’t say it out loud, thought Shen Qingqiu. In three years, Luo Binghe will be able to single-handedly beat you until you can’t get up—and won’t you still become his diligent henchman? You’d really be slapping your own face.

“Fine,” said Mobei-Jun. “Then let me see.”

Before he had finished speaking, the killing intent in the air around them spiked.

His steps agile and unreadable, Shen Qingqiu flashed in front of Luo Binghe. With his left hand, he tossed forth Xiu Ya to hold off Mobei-Jun for a bit, even if it would be largely ineffective. At the same time, with his right hand, he lifted Luo Binghe like an eagle would a chick and hurled him away. Once he’d sent Luo Binghe outside the range of Mobei-Jun’s demonic qi, he turned and met palms with Mobei-Jun.

When their palms connected, blood churned in Shen Qingqiu’s chest as if someone had punched him there. The spiritual energy in his body surged like it was boiling over. Though he had already formed a core and his cultivation wasn’t low, what was a golden core against the right hand of the future demon lord, Luo Binghe?

But he had to go all out and try.

Throwing himself into a desperate battle to the death without regard for his own life was the only way to survive this. According to Shen Qingqiu’s experience from ten-plus years of reading all sorts of wuxia and xianxia novels, temperamental chuunis13 had a modicum of respect for hardheaded types who fought bloody battles to the end and refused to admit defeat. But they definitely didn’t show any mercy to cowards and weaklings!

Having been caught off guard and hurled away by Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe doubled back, unsheathing Zheng Yang. Mobei-Jun spared one hand to flick away the white sword glare he threw. Zheng Yang couldn’t withstand the massive influx of demonic energy, and in an explosion of white light, it shattered into pieces on the spot.

Mobei-Jun held off both of Shen Qingqiu’s hands with just one of his own, his power overwhelmingly superior. Bored, he blasted Shen Qingqiu away.

“Unusually inferior talent,” he said. “Foundation and techniques inflexible. Leave.”

Shen Qingqiu said nothing.

He wasn’t some unmatched genius in the Human Realm, but his talent was still at least one in a thousand. And Cang Qiong Mountain’s foundation and techniques weren’t inflexible, they were orthodox! Mobei-Jun still described them as he would a pile of garbage. If the original Shen Qingqiu had heard this, he would have coughed up three liters of blood and run away crying to make a voodoo doll.

Luo Binghe didn’t care that his sword was broken. When he saw Shen Qingqiu injured by this palm strike, blood dripping from between gritted teeth, Luo Binghe’s gaze frosted over, his aura changing in an instant. Sensing this shocking change, a cold flash of interest shot through Mobei-Jun’s pale blue eyes. He abruptly summoned a pure-black sword of ice out of thin air. That one blade became two, two became four, four became eight, instantly dividing into an array of hundreds of ice swords—which shot at the surrounded Shen Qingqiu from all directions.

No normal defense technique could possibly block these ice swords; they were crystallized from the purest demonic qi. Shen Qingqiu’s spiritual qi was nearly exhausted. If his power collided with Mobei-Jun’s, it would be like a single spark against a towering wave. The end result went without saying.

Just as the sword array was about to come down like sheets of rain, Shen Qingqiu snarled within his heart.

I’ve done my best, but he still thinks I’m low-level trash, so what can I do?!

How loathsome! If I have to die, couldn’t it at least be in a better-looking way? After being stabbed with hundreds of black swords, I’m going to be a sieve! Who could bear to look?!

However, even long moments after, the pain of being skewered by thousands of swords did not arrive.

Unless Mobei-Jun had suddenly lost his mind and revoked the sword array, there was only one explanation—only one person who could have blocked this attack that seethed with murderous intent.

Shen Qingqiu steadied himself and slowly raised his head.

As expected.

In the air all around him, the forest of swords had shattered.

They’d splintered so completely that it was like they’d disappeared without a trace, leaving only a night sky full of black ice crystals. Reflecting the moonlight, they fell one by one.

This scene could have been described as beautiful.

However, Luo Binghe, standing in the middle of it, was the center of a blizzard that seemed to roar around him and within his gaze. He could only be described as terrifying.

Shen Qingqiu collapsed next to a large tree, swallowing mouthfuls of blood. He circulated energy to heal his wounds while watching this earthshaking showdown between two demon lords.

The seal on Luo Binghe’s blood had yet to be removed. Mobei-Jun was only testing him, but still this battle darkened the sky and earth, blotting out all light. Raging waves of demonic energy overflowed from both of them, enough to cloak the entire sky.

Wasn’t this area within range of the—the Thousand-Leaves Fresh-Snow Lotus? That was what that thing was called, right? Right, demonic creatures were supposed to be afraid to approach its proximity. But as soon as this inescapable smog of demonic qi touched the flower, the Snow Lotus that brimmed with spiritual qi wilted and rotted down to its roots.

All the demonic creatures hiding in the dark crept out one by one, greedily inhaling what to them was a fragrant scent.

Several ghost-head spiders stealthily crawled onto a few of the Cang Qiong Mountain disciples, hairy legs poised to stab into their temples. Shen Qingqiu was nearly out of spiritual energy and was unable to use spell attacks. He could only directly grab the beasts by their filthy, tangled hair and throw them aside. He aimed before he threw, making sure to toss them toward that traitor, Shang Qinghua.

Meanwhile, Mobei-Jun had pretty much finished testing Luo Binghe, and he prepared to wrap things up, sending out one last blow. With a flick of his finger, he fired a stream of scarlet light at the center of Luo Binghe’s forehead.

Once that stream of light touched Luo Binghe’s brow, it seeped into his skin, turning into a fiery red mark. Luo Binghe was lost to his bloodlust. He didn’t know why, only that his head ached like it was about to explode, and he nearly collapsed to his knees. His entire body roiled with a desire to inflict savage cruelty. Unable to vent it, he threw out his hand, and as if shot out of a cannon, an eruption of demonic qi descended upon Mobei-Jun.

This last strike was extremely powerful.

Yet Mobei-Jun waved it away with one hand, a bit surprised. “Not bad.” Ignoring whether Luo Binghe was in a state to understand him, he continued. “The Human Realm isn’t where you belong. Why not return to your origins?”

Now Shen Qingqiu was finally one hundred percent sure. Mobei-Jun’s sudden appearance was indeed a substitute for the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python. But compared to the original, Mobei-Jun had done a far more thorough job.

He…he…he…he’d actually directly removed the seal suppressing Luo Binghe’s demonic blood!

And after completing his task, he turned right around and left.

This NPC really was so straight to the point, not a moment spared—completely in line with his modus operandi in the original work. He’d show up wherever Luo Binghe needed him without rhyme or reason. His actions were just that forced, a total maverick, needing not a shred of logic!

Speaking of forced, that could only be how Shen Qingqiu would face his next task: the last level.

Having fought a harsh battle, Luo Binghe was half-kneeling in the midst of a ruined landscape, his eyes vacant, but it looked like his placid veneer would at any moment tear. Right now, his mind was like a dormant volcano, one that had suddenly erupted after being silent for many years, the magma in its veins starting to flow. Just thinking about this made Shen Qingqiu feel like he was burning up along with it, until his bones and head began to ache and pound.

The System sent a shrill notification the likes of which he’d never heard before.

【 Warning! The critical quest “The Endless Abyss and Endless Hatred, a Sky Filled with Crystal Frost and Tears of Blood” has officially begun! If it is not successfully completed, twenty thousand protagonist satisfaction points will be deducted! 】

Was it Shen Qingqiu’s imagination, or were the quest names getting more and more absurd every time, to the point that Shen Qingqiu didn’t even know where to begin roasting them?

And hey, when I confirmed with you a while back, wasn’t it ten thousand? It’s been like five minutes, and now it’s doubled?

Swaying, Shen Qingqiu walked over to Luo Binghe, who was still in a half-crazed state. He unleashed a couple of palm strikes on his back, channeling some of his own remaining spiritual energy into his student’s body.

You think it’s going to be that easy? Dream on!

Not only did Luo Binghe fail to regain consciousness, the demonic qi within his body rebounded Shen Qingqiu’s efforts, forcing Shen Qingqiu to cough up the mouthful of blood he’d been holding back for so long.

Only at this moment did Luo Binghe finally recover some awareness.

He slowly pulled himself out of his muddled state and managed to piece together a couple of mangled words. That familiar face also gradually came into focus.

Shen Qingqiu saw Luo Binghe’s gaze clear a bit and let out a sigh of relief. He wiped at the blood by his mouth and asked in an even tone, “You’re awake?” After a pause, “If you’re awake, let’s have a thorough discussion. Luo Binghe, tell me honestly, exactly how long have you been practicing demonic cultivation?”

As soon as he said this, it was as if Luo Binghe had been plunged from the stifling upper heavens into a bone-chilling pool. It would have been impossible for him to not return to complete consciousness.

He stared at Shen Qingqiu’s wintry face, and his heart sank straight down. In the past, Shen Qingqiu had always called him Binghe—he had never been addressed by his full name.

“Shizun,” he said quietly, “this disciple can explain.”

Though Luo Binghe was still a youth, he’d always remained calm and unperturbed, often acting mature beyond his years. Now actual panic surfaced on his face, like he was frantic to explain but didn’t know where to start.

Seeing the oh-so-mighty male lead reduced to this state, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stand to watch anymore. He burst out to cut him off. “Silence!”

His voice had only just left his mouth, and he already felt like he hadn’t properly controlled himself—that his tone had been overly harsh. He seemed to have scared Luo Binghe. The boy stared at him blankly with pitch-black eyes, like a child who’d been slapped, muddled and confused, and indeed he obediently went silent.

“When did you start?” Shen Qingqiu stiffly recited the line, unable to harden his heart enough to look his student in the eyes.

“Two years ago.”

Shen Qingqiu went silent and didn’t speak. To answer his question so quickly, and so honestly to boot—it seemed Luo Binghe really was scared witless.

Unbeknownst to him, Luo Binghe automatically took this silence to mean: “Is that so? You wicked disciple, you managed to hide this from me for so long!”

“Two years,” Shen Qingqiu said quietly. “No wonder you were able to progress by leaps and bounds, and to such an extent. You truly live up to your reputation, Luo Binghe. You are gifted with spectacular talent.”

In truth, these words he spoke were purely an expression of the regrets within his heart. As the male lead, Luo Binghe was indeed blessed with spectacular talent. If Shen Qingqiu had to describe what he was feeling with absolute honesty, it was admiration, with the tiniest bit of envy.

But to Luo Binghe’s ears, his meaning was completely different. He instantly fell to his knees before Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu’s soul almost left his body. If a man kneeling was worth his weight in gold, the male lead kneeling was worth your life. Letting him kneel at this critical juncture—when Luo Binghe remembered it in the future, wouldn’t his hatred be compounded?

“Get up!” Shen Qingqiu waved his sleeve at once.

Hit by the gust from this wave, Luo Binghe couldn’t help but stand again and back up a few steps, even more stunned out of his senses.

Had he done something wrong? Something so wrong that it couldn’t be absolved—that he didn’t even have the right to kneel and plead Shizun for forgiveness?

“But Shizun, you said before that just as people can be good or bad, demons can be good or evil,” he mumbled. “That in this world, there is no one…intolerable to the heavens.”

I said that? It had been many years. Shen Qingqiu thought intently for a while.

It seemed like he really had said that!

But that had been then, when he’d been considering a far-off future. This was now, in the midst of a crisis with a blade suspended above his throat.

This was a last resort, but would it be too shameless to slap his own face by doubling down?

“You are no simple demon,” Shen Qingqiu said. “That mark on your forehead is a mark of sin—the mark of the demons who fell from the heavens. These demons have murdered countless humans, and moreover, their temperaments are impossible to contain. From ancient times, they’ve been the cause of calamity upon calamity. Under no circumstances can they be spoken of in the same breath as other demons. I cannot wait and hope my earlier words were true while you develop a taste for slaughter and lose all control.”

As these words touched his ears, Luo Binghe’s hopes shattered, and the rims of his eyes reddened. His voice quivered. “But you said…”

I’ve said a lot of things, okay? I even once made several hundred posts in bright red font about wanting to castrate Shen Qingqiu—

It wasn’t the least bit funny.

Shen Qingqiu, who’d always been so good at mental gymnastics, reached a new high in his number of mental roasts, madly smashing through his old records—yet he still couldn’t put himself at ease, and instead he only grew more tired and worn out.

He relentlessly told himself to the point of auto-brainwashing: the suffering and torment Luo Binghe endured now was all necessary in order for him to stand above the masses in the future.

Without enduring the bone-chilling cold / How could fragrant plum blossoms hope to bloom / Without three years’ training in realms below / How could a demon king over worlds loom?

Xin Mo in hand, he would possess everything beneath the heavens / With a harem innumerable, he need not be an incel…

But it was useless.

It was completely useless. Nothing could lift his spirits.

Shen Qingqiu raised his head and formed a sword seal to summon Xiu Ya, and he held it within his hand. The hand wielding the sword shook slightly, thin veins surfacing through his skin.

“Shizun, do you really want to kill me?” Luo Binghe couldn’t believe it.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Unable to look at his expression, Shen Qingqiu’s gaze went right through him.

Luo Binghe searched his memory, but he’d never seen Shen Qingqiu so cold and emotionless, not toward him. Even back when he’d just entered Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shizun had disliked him, his eyes had never been this empty—like he was looking at nothing.

His gaze held not even a trace of warmth. It was exactly the way he’d looked at heinous demons whom he had executed with that same sword.

“It’s only, what that man said wasn’t wrong,” said Shen Qingqiu. “The Human Realm is no longer a place for you. You ought to return to the place you belong.”

He stepped forward, and Luo Binghe stepped back. Shen Qingqiu pressed him backward until they were right on the edge of the Endless Abyss.

If one looked into the ravine, they would see the simmering demonic qi roiling unceasingly within it, and they would hear the anguished wailing of tens of thousands of spirits. Hundreds and thousands of deformed arms reached up from the cracks toward the Human Realm, hungering for fresh blood and flesh. The deeper regions faded into black fog and eerie scarlet light.

“Will you go down yourself, or must I force you?” Shen Qingqiu asked, Xiu Ya pointing toward the abyss.

He selfishly hoped that Luo Binghe would go of his own volition. In this kind of scenario, characters who chose to jump from cliffs were always caught on something—then Shen Qingqiu could go on believing his own lies that this scene would have a happy end.

Better that than this moment being carved into Shen Qingqiu’s memory from here on out, forcing him to remember night and day that he had shoved Luo Binghe down with his own two hands.

But Luo Binghe refused to give up hope.

He refused to believe that the teacher who had been so kind to him would actually hurt him. He refused to believe that all those years of companionship every day, morning to night, could lead to this conclusion.

Even as Xiu Ya stabbed into his chest, he clung to a last strand of hope.

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t meant to stab him.

He really hadn’t. He was only steeling himself, waving his sword around in order to scare Luo Binghe. If Luo Binghe had stepped back once more to avoid his swings, he’d have naturally fallen in. Shen Qingqiu had never predicted that Luo Binghe would simply silently stand there, taking the blade head-on.

It was all over. In the original work, Luo Binghe was only kicked into the abyss—now there was this extra stab to add to his grudge!

Luo Binghe lifted his hand to grip the blade, but he didn’t use any of his strength and only lightly held it. If Shen Qingqiu decided to exert force, Xiu Ya would continue to stab into him until it pierced straight through his chest.

Luo Binghe’s throat lightly bobbed; he said not a single word. The blade point clearly hadn’t pierced his heart, yet Shen Qingqiu felt like he could feel that heart’s pained thumps, traveling up the blade and into his hand, spreading through his entire arm, until they arrived directly at his own heart.

Shen Qingqiu suddenly withdrew the sword.

With that action, Luo Binghe’s body swayed a little, but he quickly steadied himself. Realizing that Shen Qingqiu hadn’t dealt him a killing blow, his eyes, which had dimmed faintly, shone once more, like sparks struggling within burnt ashes. The corner of his mouth also managed to twitch. Perhaps he was trying to smile.

Then Shen Qingqiu unleashed a final strike, which extinguished the last trace of light within Luo Binghe’s eyes.

He knew he would never forget Luo Binghe’s expression from the moment of his fall.

 

***

 

By the time the sect leaders and other cultivators arrived, having finished clearing out the demons within Jue Di Gorge, the spatial rift caused by the Endless Abyss had long since closed.

Other than Shang Qinghua, who was playing dead, Shen Qingqiu had stabilized the injuries of everyone who’d passed out, but he hadn’t really paid attention to his own. His robes splattered with blood, his face expressionless and stark white, he looked quite wretched.

Yue Qingyuan stepped forward to check Shen Qingqiu’s pulse and condition, then frowned and asked Mu Qingfang, as the expert, to examine him. The cultivators of each sect picked out their disciples from among the bodies scattered across the ground, then whisked them away for further treatment.

Liu Qingge sensed that they were short one person. Then he realized it was the person who was always flitting around Shen Qingqiu, impossible to miss.

“Where’s that disciple of yours?” he asked.

Head lowered, Shen Qingqiu didn’t answer. He picked up the shattered pieces of a longsword lying on the ground, which had broken into many fragments.

Qing Jing Peak’s disciples had hurried to the scene. The sharp-eyed Ming Fan, who had been leading them, looked at that sword and stammered, “Shizun, that sword can’t be…”

Ming Fan had yearned for the Zheng Yang sword on Wan Jian Peak, and he had spent many years thinking about it. After Luo Binghe had claimed it, his entire body had burned with envy, and for many nights he’d cursed while tossing and turning. He definitely couldn’t mistake it.

Ning Yingying let out a sudden loud wail. “Shizun, d-don’t scare me. Is that…is that A-Luo’s Zheng Yang? It can’t be, right? It can’t be!”

A wave of whispers flowed around them.

“Zheng Yang?”

“They’re talking about Peak Lord Shen’s beloved disciple, Luo Binghe?”

“A sword shares its existence with its master. If the sword is broken, then where is he?”

“Could he have…ahem.”

Someone sighed. “If this is really what happened, that’s truly a great pity. In the midst of all this, Luo Binghe had become the Immortal Alliance Conference’s top ranker.”

“Heaven envies talent, heaven envies talent!”

There were those who sighed in pity, those who were stunned, those who were sorrowful, and those who rejoiced in the misfortune of others.

Ning Yingying burst into wailing tears on the spot.

Though Ming Fan hated Luo Binghe and was always cursing at him to go die, he’d never really wanted him dead. Moreover, when he thought about how much Shizun had adored him, and how this shitty brat had died without even leaving a corpse—Shizun had to be terribly sad, and Ming Fan couldn’t be happy about that either.

Gloom and anxiety fell over the entirety of Qing Jing Peak’s delegation. Xian Shu Peak’s group of women, with Qi Qingqi as their head, were also deeply moved.

Liu Qingge wasn’t good with words. He patted Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. “Your disciple is gone, but you can still accept more.”

Though he knew Liu Qingge was trying to comfort him, Shen Qingqiu still wanted to feebly roll his eyes at him.

People who hadn’t kicked their favorite disciple—who was also the male lead—into the Endless Abyss were all just commentating from the sidelines!

Whatever. What’s done is done.

“Qing Jing Peak’s disciple Luo Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said slowly, “fell to the demons and perished.”

 

***

 

That year’s Immortal Alliance Conference was a greater disaster than nearly any since its inception.

Over a thousand new talents from every sect had participated in the conference. Of the four great sects, the members of Zhao Hua Monastery, who’d focused on supporting the barrier spell, had luckily been spared, while Huan Hua Palace had suffered the greatest losses, to the tune of nearly a hundred participants. Cang Qiong Mountain had taken the least damage, with only thirty or so injured.

The newcomers with low skill and meager cultivation largely hailed from the other assorted sects and clans. This was the group that had been hit hardest and taken the most casualties.

Getting your name on the gold-inscribed tablet should have been a joyous occasion, but this year, many of the people listed on that tablet had perished in Jue Di Gorge. Most heartbreaking of all was the first-ranked name, high at the top of the list—a member of Cang Qiong Mountain’s Qing Jing Peak and Shen Qingqiu’s beloved disciple, Luo Binghe, deceased, his sword broken.

This was to say nothing of the casualties among the cultivators who had joined the fray to give aid during the incident. In this battle, each sect had suffered major losses.

A red ranking chart was delivered to Qing Jing Peak. “Luo Binghe” was written high at the top in first place, glittering in gold.

Ming Fan walked in to report. “Shizun, ten thousand spirit stones were delivered, what should be done with them?”

Ten thousand spirit stones? Shen Qingqiu stared at him blankly. “Why would they suddenly send so many spirit stones up the mountain?”

“Shizun, have you forgotten?” Ming Fan asked carefully. “At the Immortal Alliance Conference, you bet five thousand…”

Now Shen Qingqiu remembered. It was the bet he had placed on Luo Binghe. Yue Qingyuan had said that any losses would be his to pay, while Shen Qingqiu could keep any winnings for himself.

Sure enough, Luo Binghe had made a good showing, and in the final hour, he had shot past the first- and second-ranked Gongyi Xiao and Liu Mingyan to perch at the head of the rankings, thereby earning his master double his initial investment.

At the time, Shen Qingqiu had thought that profit was profit and that he might as well receive a consolation prize, but now he was at a bit of a loss.

In the past, he had always given these things to Luo Binghe to handle—where the gift should be saved or whether it should be used to trade for something else, and if so, how to do so. He’d never had to worry about such things himself. Now Ming Fan was asking him what to do.

Shen Qingqiu thought for a while, then said, “Put them away for now.”

Ming Fan was silent. He actually wanted to ask for more instruction, like “Where should I put it?” But his master’s face really didn’t look too good, so he was afraid to press for answers. He thought, It should be fine if I put them where Luo Binghe used to put things, and immediately withdrew.

For many days, Qing Jing Peak’s disciples walked on eggshells, doing their best to avoid the elephant in the room, afraid of touching their master’s sore spot. They all thought that after a few days, things would eventually take a turn for the better.

Then, after half a month had passed and Shen Qingqiu seemed to be gradually returning to normal, one day, right before mealtime, they suddenly heard Shen Qingqiu call Luo Binghe’s name a few times from the Bamboo House.

With a thud-thud-thud, Ning Yingying burst inside, giving Shen Qingqiu a scare.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Charging in here so suddenly—it’s unsightly for a lady to act so rough and undisciplined.”

Ning Yingying’s eyes were red, like that of a little bunny’s. “Shizun, you—whatever you want to eat, I’ll make it for you!”

Shen Qingqiu coughed. “No need. Go out and play.”

“Shizun!” Ning Yingying stamped her foot. “Even if A-Luo is gone, you…you still have the rest of your disciples. You’re so…out of your mind with grief, we disciples—we disciples are worried to death!”

Shen Qingqiu would never have expected someone to use the words “out of your mind” to describe him.

Actually, now that he’d reached the Core Formation stage, it didn’t matter whether he ate or not. He’d just had a sudden craving and wanted to eat some snacks, and he had for a moment forgotten that he’d already thrown Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss. How did that count as being “out of his mind”?!

Shen Qingqiu opened his mouth, a hundred words of protest ready to spill forth, but seeing Ning Yingying nearly about to cry from anxiety, he hurriedly went to comfort her instead. Only after he swore solemnly that his calls just now had been a mere slip of the tongue did she calm down.

After coaxing her back outside, Shen Qingqiu let out a long sigh. He suddenly felt that this little miss, who in the original novel had always been pampered and childish, only capable of getting in trouble and being a burden, had in fact grown up quite a bit.

After all, she was one of Luo Binghe’s harem. She was the one who was supposed to be clawing at the ground, wailing to the heavens—but instead she’d come to comfort her master.

Had his instruction actually had some effect?

Either way, things couldn’t go on like this any longer.

Clearly Shen Qingqiu was the one who’d raised that little lamb of a protagonist, so why did it seem like the protagonist had been the one looking after him? He was scaring his disciples, putting on the act of a grieving widow whose husband had just died. Hadn’t it been only a couple of days since he’d last seen that child?

No! Bah! Shen Qingqiu mentally slapped himself. Who are you calling a grieving widow?! Whose husband died?! That’s not something you should just say—you’re really getting worse by the day. A negative mindset produces nothing good. You deserve a slap!

But, perhaps because Luo Binghe had left, he really was a bit lonely. Especially when he thought about how five years from now, when they reunited, a relationship that had once been that of a compassionate teacher and filial disciple (or something) would become defined by veiled murderous intent and daggers hidden within smiles.

Shen Qingqiu had brought the broken pieces of Zheng Yang back with him. He messily dug a hole behind Qing Jing Peak’s Bamboo House, erected a tablet, and set up a sword mound. When others saw him lost in thought as he faced that empty tablet, they thought he was reminiscing about his beloved disciple, and they could only sigh. What a deep master-and-disciple bond! Fate toys with us all.

Only Shen Qingqiu knew that the one he was mourning was in truth within that sword mound, buried underneath and never to return: that youth as warm as the sun.

What truly broke him and caused him to weep at the heavens was that, after several days of silence, the System sent him a message truly devoid of all humanity.

【 Congratulations! You have successfully completed the key quest, “The Legend Begins: Luo Binghe’s Fall and Rebirth.” Reward: Protagonist satisfaction points +10,000. 】

Before Shen Qingqiu even had the chance to be pleased, it continued:

【 However, due to extraordinary circumstances, a new point value has been activated: Luo Binghe’s heartbreak points. Due to excessively high heartbreak level, protagonist satisfaction points have been reset to zero. Please continue to work hard! 】

Reset to zero… Reset to zero… Reset to zero…

Those three large words looped endlessly within Shen Qingqiu’s mind.

What the hell are these heartbreak points?! Didn’t I tell you not to randomly activate strange point values?! Fuck off! So Luo Binghe really is your darling son—even his heartbreak gets a point value of its own?!

Years of slaving away at the System’s every command, and he was back to square one in a single night.

Being a villain was true misery / Grievances enough to fill the ocean.

Being so unhappy, naturally Shen Qingqiu had to go take it out on someone else. So, he had Ming Fan deliver a message inviting Shang Qinghua to the Bamboo House.

Shang Qinghua placed down the porcelain tea bowl and smiled. “Shen-shixiong’s Qing Jing Peak is truly elegant and secluded. Even this mere tea bowl is exquisite. Such sophistication truly makes Qinghua feel ashamed.”

Qing Jing Peak and An Ding Peak had always minded their respective business. Shen Qingqiu was reserved and aloof and very rarely took the initiative to invite guests, but this time he had actually sent a disciple to An Ding Peak with an invitation. Shang Qinghua was unable to discern what he wanted. But no one slaps a smiling face, so he started out with compliments. At least that couldn’t be a misstep.

Shen Qingqiu dismissed the disciples, closed the door, and sighed. “Shidi, with these words of yours, everything I see begins to bring up old memories. Every plank, every dish in this Qing Jing Bamboo House was personally arranged by that disciple of mine.”

Shang Qinghua said nothing but sighed along with him. “Ah, Luo-shizhi was a heroic youth, such a pity. Those demons brought such disaster upon us; they are truly hateful. The whole world mourns with us. Shen-shixiong, my condolences.”

“If Shang-shidi truly felt it was a pity, this tragedy would not have occurred,” Shen Qingqiu said faintly.

At this, Shang Qinghua stiffened. After a moment, he seamlessly smoothed things over with a smile. “What does Shen-shixiong mean by that? Is he rebuking our An Ding Peak for inadequate administration? If so, Shidi should truly apologize.”

Shen Qingqiu refilled his teacup. “How was it inadequate? You clearly overexerted yourself. You even found demonic creatures like the ghost-head spiders, Nu Yuan Chan, and bone eagles—none of which ever enter the Human Realm of their own volition. How could Shixiong rebuke you for inadequacy?”

“Peak Lord Shen—to make such outrageous accusations!” Shang Qinghua shot to his feet, his face rapidly changing colors.

Shen Qingqiu put his hand on Shang Qinghua’s shoulder. “Why is Shang-shidi getting so excited?” he asked solemnly. “Let’s sit down and talk. Let me say something. Do you dare respond?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I have a clear conscience. Why would I fear a false accusation?” With a sneer, Shang Qinghua brushed away his hand.

“Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky?” asked Shen Qingqiu.

In that instant, it was like a bolt of lightning from the heavens had struck Shang Qinghua in the head, rendering him unable to speak.

After a long time, he managed to stammer out, “You… How do you know my ID?”

In that moment, it was like Shen Qingqiu had also been burnt to a crisp by the aforementioned bolt of lightning.

He’d only wanted to study Shang Qinghua’s reaction to this name to determine if he had also read Proud Immortal Demon Way—but given his reaction…he wasn’t just a reader, was he?!

After three long seconds, Shen Qingqiu jumped on him.

“It’s you?! How could I not know your ID after reading your entire fucking novel?! If you hadn’t let something slip when Mobei-Jun appeared, I really never would have known what hole you’d really crawled out of, ‘Great Master’!”