CH 7

“Hey, I heard that the kid who the Cloudless Immortal brought back has been discovered to have blood of the demon race.”

“Blood of the demon race?” The other was extremely surprised, and muttered, “Descendents of the demons haven’t appeared for so many years. I wonder what the Immortal will do about a dangerous monster like that?”

“He can’t be kept.” The first was very prejudiced against the demon race. “He must be put to death.”

When the earth was first separated from heaven and the mainland continent was created, there were demons slaughtered by nature, relying on the devouring of humans to raise their cultivation. A cultivator boldly came forward to kill the leader of the demons, a setback leading to their total collapse.

There were still remnants of these evil beings who disguised themselves as humans and hid in the human world. Over the course of time, the demonic power left in the blood of their descendents became fainter and fainter, until they were no different from normal people.

But demonic blood was like a powerful explosive that could be lit by an ember, as destructive as tsunamis and landslides, and couldn’t be estimated.

Hence, the high-end sects didn’t accept disciples contaminated by a sliver of demonic descent.

Gu Lingxiao’s hands drooped as he stood helplessly in the great hall. The gazes of the surrounding people seemed to want to wish to scorch millions of holes into his body. All kinds of harsh words slipped into his ears.

“Mutt” “Bloodthirsty” “Cursed”…

Gu Lingxiao was terrified. He didn’t recognize a single person here. He urgently searched the crowd for a white-colored figure.

But that person was nowhere to be seen. Gu LIngxiao was shut into a cold and dark prison.

“I-I’m looking for someone…” Gu Lingxiao held the iron bars as he looked out from between them.

The person in charge of him was impatient as he asked, “Looking for who?”

Gu LIngxiao spoke the name he had recited a thousand times in his heart. “Chi Ning. He said his name is Chi Ning.”

“Don’t think about it. Immortal Chi is noble and benevolent as the light breeze and clear moon. Would he want a beast like you as a disciple?”

Would he not?

Gu Lingxiao slumped into the messy haystack, staring at his spread hands in a daze.

These two hands of his had never been able to take hold of anything. His mother passed away, his friends separated from him. He lived this confusing and frightening life alone.

Earlier, he obviously grabbed onto a snow-white sleeve, but now that had gone to hell too.

The prison’s nights were very cold. Gu Lingxiao curled up and shivered even in his dream.

A cloak suddenly covered this little child, warm and sweet-scented as it wrapped around his frail and small form.

Chi Ning called him gently. “Lingxiao, we should get going.”

“What did you call me?” Gu Lingxiao’s body had been frozen stiff, and he couldn’t pick himself up after a couple tries.

Chi Ning put the child on his back very naturally. “You said you couldn’t remember your name, so I’ll give you one, Lingxiao. Is that alright?”

Lingxiao.

Gu Lingxiao remembered, in the midst of the scattered scarlet flowers, there was a clear clang as the sword slid back into its sheath, and the young man glanced back. His bearing was like that of a dragon, his appearance was like that of a phoenix, as if the spring had returned. 

“Mm.” Gu Lingxiao’s long and thick eyelashes trembled a little. “Then what should I call you?”

“You should call me Shizun.”

“Shizun…”

Gu LIngxiao buried his face into Chi Ning’s shoulder, and spoke this word in his heart again, greedily: Shizun.

The scene rapidly changed. It was also in the prison, and Gu Lingxiao was firmly fettered by four iron chains, one on each hand and foot.

Patter– Patter–

The cold and damp walls were dripping water. The droplets crashed down onto Gu LIngxiao’s horrific cuts and bruises, with a rending pain.

Gu Lingxiao bit back the pain as there seemed to be sand choking his throat. “Shizun, I lost control and killed my opponent. I was wrong, I accept my punishment, I beg of you… beg of you not to drive me out.”

Chi Ning’s white sleeves dragged on the ground, and his drooping eyes were wrapped with solid ice, unfeeling, cold. He looked at Gu Lingxiao like he was looking at a weed with nothing to do with him. 

“Receive your sentence.”

The Swan-Treading Sword shrunk to a three-cun long dagger, its edge like snow. It pierced into Gu Lingxiao’s chest without the least hesitation. 

The blood gushed like a spray of cinnabar ink.

…

By the time the nightmare was over, Gu Lingxiao’s cold sweat had already soaked through his clothes.

He pressed his chest. Below the skin and flesh, a heart clearly still beat.

But the deep pain of being sliced open by the sword still remained, sharp and acute, like a viper’s long fang. 

In the dense darkness of the night, Gu Lingxiao sneered lowly:

Chi Ning, oh, Chi Ning. The one who willfully took me as disciple was you, and the one who crippled my spiritual root with hands covered in my blood was also you.

What, exactly, do you take me as? A dog who you give alms to from time to time? Or a thing you can throw away at any time?