115. Extra: Zhou Sheng’s nightmare

In the previous life:

After Lin Yijun was killed by tribulation lightning in front of him, Zhou Sheng was stunned, his blade held frozen in the air.

Lin Yijun had been such a big part of his life. He had always thought, deep down, that the cultivation genius Senior Lin Yijun, Lin-shixiong, would always be stronger and more powerful.

To see him fail the tribulation and die—Zhou Sheng couldn’t understand. This had to be false, right? It had to be a trick, right?

Lin Yijun’s body, no longer sustained by the wind and qi, began to fall.

In contrast to Zhou Sheng’s frozen position, the other cultivators on the battlefield reacted extremely quickly. Lin Yijun had died by the hands of the Heavens!

This was a huge blow to the righteous cultivators, and a huge boon to the demonic cultivators!

Clearly, the Heavens were favouring the demonic side, weren’t they?

The sound of big explosions jolted Zhou Sheng out of his reverie. Fighting raged across the ravine and in the skies around him as robed cultivators employed their earth-shattering powers.

Zhou Sheng ignored it all. Where was Lin Yijun’s body?

Heart tight, Zhou Sheng plummeted straight down, faster than the speed of falling. Right below them was the ravine, deep, and dark.

No one truly knew how deep parts of the ravine went, but Zhou Sheng had to keep going down and down. He used his own blood to cast a red glow on the jagged sides of the dark abyss.

A jutted-out ledge had a soft, golden shape. Lin Yijun! Zhou Sheng’s descent slowed in an instant, touching down lightly on the ledge.

Lin Yijun’s body was mangled from the fall, but it was still intact—testament to the tempering of a Nascent Soul body.

Zhou Sheng fell to his knees. No breath came from Lin Yijun’s mouth. No qi moved inside his body. No blood flowed in those once-lively veins.

He was dead. Truly dead.

“No...no…”

This had to be a dream. A nightmare. All of it!

Zhou Sheng became extremely muddled after that. The world passed in a blur, as though his soul was half a step away from his body and controlling it remotely.

He picked up Lin Yijun’s body, carrying it in his arms. He flew out of the ravine.

He fought the damned Golden Sun Sect cultivators first, especially all the damned people who had pitted him in the past.

Then, he had somehow lost Lin Yijun’s body.

So he raged and killed the bastard demonic cultivators next, shouting at them to give it back—

Day turned to night turned to day turned to night. The flowers had long been trampled. The blood and bodies of dead cultivators became tools under demonic hands; vengeful ghosts of cultivators continued to fight.

Zhou Sheng grew more and more light-headed as he used up his blood…

And then, in order to continue to fight, he decided to use the blood of the cultivators he had killed. The ones who had deserved to be killed.

...After that, was he really Zhou Sheng anymore? Hadn’t he become the very beast that Lin Yijun hated? Hadn’t he crossed his own line in the sand?

When he died, he did not know whose blade it was. At this time, all the cultivators’ robes were muddy, demonic and righteous were all the same. And who cared?… He was already dying from blood loss. That blade was ultimately merciful...

Zhou Sheng woke suddenly, pain slicing through his chest like a sword, heart thudding. There was a feeling of disgust deep in his blood.

The dream had been so vivid. And the subsequent headache was extremely painful.

Zhou Sheng climbed out of his bed in the Blood Sect. He grabbed his calming stone from his bedside table and frowned. It was losing its qi.

Zhou Sheng’s fist squeezed the stone, forcefully absorbing the last dregs of the calming qi. His headache barely abated. He needed a new stone; this one turned to dust in his hand.

He dressed and left his house. Outside, the other Blood Sect cultivators avoided him. Not out of alienation, but out of respect mixed with fear—typical for demonic cultivators.

After his victory at the Inter-Sect Tournament, Zhou Sheng's position had risen again in the Blood Sect. Though many demonic cultivators became red with anger at Zhou Sheng’s ‘weird morals’ and zero tolerance for slavery, his harsh actions were really suitable for demonic cultivators. At the end of the day, many senior demonic cultivators lost against Zhou Sheng, and in the demonic world, power spoke above all else.

“Honourable Zhou Sheng! You have come out of seclusion, there are issues you need to address—”

Zhou Sheng turned and glared at the Elder calling him to do administration. His headache throbbed. “Bloody get someone else to do it!”

The Elder smartly shut up.

Zhou Sheng left the Blood Sect and headed on a familiar journey to the Golden Sun Sect. Something that he could do blindfolded.

Soon, the pale walls of the Golden Sun Sect came into view. The edges of Wen Zhihao’s aura soothed his headache slightly.

Instead of going directly to the cats’ garden, Zhou Sheng detoured to a training field, following his innate sense of where Lin Yijun should be.

It was only when he saw Lin Yijun, alive and well as he sternly taught some young disciples, did the stone in Zhou Sheng’s heart drop. He released a low sigh of relief.

In the real world, Lin Yijun was still alive. Not only that, but his name had been spreading as the result of the tournament and the subsequent political maneuverings of the sects.

Zhou Sheng headed over to see Wen Zhihao. He picked up a new calming stone (and paid, to avoid provoking Sun Fuyu) and petted some cats.

Then, he returned to the training field. He sat on a rooftop overlooking the area where Lin Yijun was teaching.

He was sure that Lin Yijun was being more patient than he had been with Zhou Sheng, all those years ago.

Zhou Sheng’s eyes lowered. What if Lin Yijun had been like that to him? Would Zhou Sheng have stayed? Would he become starry-eyed like Sun Fuyu?

After a while, Zhou Sheng nudged those thoughts away and settled into analysing Lin Yijun. He still needed to defeat Lin Yijun in the future.

Eventually, Lin Yijun spotted Zhou Sheng. His eyes widened.

Zhou Sheng smirked back.

Lin Yijun recovered his composure quickly. He finished off his lesson and sent Wang Li Wei and his fellow disciples off.

He then flew directly up to Zhou Sheng, activating his privacy bell around them.

“What are you doing here?”

Zhou Sheng rose to his feet. “Can’t I come and see you? I found a new dish recently—”

Lin Yijun quickly shook his head. “No, no, no need.”

Zhou Sheng’s smirk widened. “Are you sure?”

Lin Yijun huffed. “While you’re finding such things, I acquired two admission tokens for the Clear Heart Hot Springs. Now that Disciple Wen’s stones are becoming popular, no one uses the hot springs anymore.” He tossed one clear blue token to Zhou Sheng.

“The hot springs that your parents control?”

“Do you want to go or not?”

Zhou Sheng snorted. “Are the hot springs as effective as staying near Wen Zhihao though? Why don’t we simply enjoy his company?”

Lin Yijun gave him a deadpan look. He moved closer to Zhou Sheng. “Are you turning down bathing together in the hot springs?” His breath tickled Zhou Sheng’s ear.

Zhou Sheng resisted the urge to cover his ear. “...Let’s go.”

To be continued ;P