C182 — Kill the Nine-Tailed Fox (18)

When Shen Jue woke up again, he was a little surprised. He thought he would have died. Only when he caught sight of Xue Wenchun beside him did his mind clear a little.

 

He had merely returned to his original form.

 

Xue Wenchun was sitting cross-legged beside him with his eyes closed in meditation. He seemed to notice that the snow squirrel beside him had woken up—his long eyelashes flickered slightly, and a moment later, he opened his eyes.

 

Although Shen Jue had survived, he was in no shape at all. He wobbled weakly as he tried to stand, his tail refusing to obey. After taking only two steps forward, he collapsed into the snow again.

 

At the same time, Xue Wenchun’s voice sounded by his ear.

 

 

“You’ve just finished digesting that inner core. It’ll take time before you can walk properly.”

 

Shen Jue’s tail twitched feebly. After quite some effort, he managed to climb up out of the snow. His stomach was completely empty—he couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he last ate.

 

“How long was I unconscious?”

 

“Half a month.”

 

Xue Wenchun’s answer startled Shen Jue. He had thought it would be at most a day or two, but to his shock, half a month had already passed.

 

He turned his head toward Xue Wenchun.

“Have you seen Fu Jiuyin?”

 

“No.” Xue Wenchun’s reply came quickly. “That’s why I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

 

It seemed Fu Jiuyin had not come looking for him. Shen Jue had already expected as much.

 

He sank to the ground with a long sigh, then began circulating his energy to cast a tracing spell to search for Fu Jiuyin’s aura. In truth, he could have waited a few days to recover before searching. But with Xue Wenchun by his side, if he became useless, Xue Wenchun would not keep him around.

 

This time, the spell didn’t break off halfway like before. He even managed to sense the faintest wisp of Fu Jiuyin’s presence. But it was far too weak. Before he could pinpoint the direction, the aura had already vanished.

 

Just this one attempt left Shen Jue’s stomach churning violently. A sharp pain rose in his throat, and he couldn’t help but spit out a mouthful of blood. He wiped his lips with a paw before lifting his head toward Xue Wenchun.

 

 

“I found his aura. But it was very faint. I couldn’t determine the direction yet.”

 

Xue Wenchun narrowed his eyes slightly. After a long pause, he reached down, tucked Shen Jue into his arms, and strode forward with large steps.

 

Shen Jue didn’t know where he was going. Nestled inside the folds of clothing, he focused on regulating his breath and trying to fully absorb the inner core as quickly as possible.

 

The more useful he was, the longer he could live under Xue Wenchun’s hand.

 

……

 

The Frozen Wasteland was nothing but endless white. No trees, no grass, and even the golden crow couldn’t be seen above. It was nearly impossible to tell directions. Shen Jue had no idea where Xue Wenchun intended to go. He kept concentrating on absorbing the inner core.

 

Only when a large hand suddenly pulled him out did he stop.

 

Xue Wenchun had stopped in front of a dark cave. Only the entrance had a faint glimmer of light, while inside was pitch-black. Having consumed the inner core of the giant fish, Shen Jue’s cultivation had risen considerably. He sniffed the air—there was definitely something inside.

 

Xue Wenchun tossed Shen Jue to the ground and strode into the cave. Before long, he dragged something out—something that looked human, yet not human. The thing was covered in blood, headless but with legs, leaving a long trail of blood across the snow.

 

Seeing this, Shen Jue instinctively backed away. He watched as Xue Wenchun extracted its inner core, then turned and went back into the cave again. This time he took longer. Only after quite a while did Shen Jue hear his voice.

 

“Come in.”

 

Shen Jue hesitated, then finally scurried inside. Somehow, Xue Wenchun had lit up the cave brightly. When he saw Shen Jue enter, he pointed toward a corner.

 

 

“You can eat that, right?”

 

Shen Jue looked over—and saw a pile of corn.

 

“Eat this, rest for two days. If you still can’t find Fu Jiuyin, then keeping you serves no purpose.”

 

 

Xue Wenchun’s expression was calm as he toyed with the inner core in his hand.

 

 

“A beast like you, forcefully cultivating by devouring cores and herbs, is nothing but a burden at my side. I never keep useless things.”

 

 

Shen Jue said nothing. He only walked silently to the corner, hugged an ear of corn, and began gnawing on it slowly.

 

 

After speaking, Xue Wenchun no longer addressed him. He simply shut his eyes in silence. Shen Jue finished most of the corn, then found a relatively clean patch of ground to sit and cultivate.

 

 

It was far too difficult to trace Fu Jiuyin’s whereabouts with the aura-seeking spell. Worse, if he used the spell, Fu Jiuyin would likely notice. But that was exactly what Shen Jue hoped for—he wanted Fu Jiuyin to notice, and best of all, to come find him.

 

 

By nightfall, Xue Wenchun was already asleep.

 

 

Shen Jue glanced at him, then slowly crawled to the mouth of the cave. The strange creature Xue Wenchun had slain earlier was still there, though half its body had already been buried under snow.

 

 

Shen Jue’s gaze shifted slightly. He had always found the Frozen Wasteland strange. He had been here for some time now, yet had never once seen it snow. And yet, the land was perpetually buried in it, snow that never melted. That was odd enough—but today it hadn’t snowed at all, and still that corpse was being slowly buried.

 

 

His thoughts drifted to the giant fish from the lake. Back then, when Xue Wenchun attacked it, the lake surface had frozen over.

 

 

Could it be that in this place, any human or beast that died would slowly be consumed by snow? Was this somehow tied to the reason Fu Jiuyin and his people had come here?

 

 

Xue Wenchun had never explained how that letter ended up in Xie Chen’s hands, but it certainly hadn’t been delivered from inside this place.

 

 

Even Xue Wenchun himself had struggled greatly just to enter the Frozen Wasteland. Now that he was here, he still couldn’t find Fu Jiuyin for the time being—so how could his underlings possibly succeed?

 

 

And before all this, Shen Jue had never once heard Fu Jiuyin mention the Frozen Wasteland.

 

 

As Shen Jue puzzled over Fu Jiuyin’s true goal in coming here, hoping to use that to deduce his location, a sudden force of suction yanked him backward. Before he could react, he was already caught in Xue Wenchun’s hand.

 

 

At some point, Xue Wenchun had awoken. His head tilted slightly, long lashes lowered, gaze fixed intently on Shen Jue. Shen Jue’s heart sank—then he saw Xue Wenchun’s other hand tug lightly at his own collar.

 

 

Beneath the fabric, black talismanic markings slithered like insects across his skin, hideous and repulsive against the pale flesh.

 

 

“Little mouse, if you were able to stay by the nine-tailed fox’s side for so long, you must have some special abilities, hm?”

 

 

His voice was soft, casual, as if he were merely making idle conversation.

 

 

But Shen Jue, seeing those crawling marks beneath his skin and the look in Xue Wenchun’s eyes, knew instantly—this man was in the grip of an episode.

 

 

Demonic cultivators. With the word demon in their name, they naturally didn’t cultivate the way orthodox sects did. Their paths were twisted, their methods vile, every act a wound against heaven and virtue. And yet, the great sects didn’t strike them down, even maintaining surface peace.

 

 

The reasons were twofold.

 

 

First, demonic cultivators advanced with frightening speed in the early stages. In terms of raw strength, a disciple of a great sect with over ten years of training might still be defeated by a demonic cultivator of barely a single year.

 

 

The great sects were particular about talent—losing disciples in pointless clashes would be too costly.

 

 

Second, while demons cultivated fast, the more demonic energy accumulated within them, the stronger the backlash they suffered. Even someone like Xue Wenchun would fall into sudden bouts of illness. And every act of cruelty, every sin they committed, was tallied into the heavenly tribulations awaiting them in the end.

 

 

All these years, not a single demonic cultivator had ever succeeded in transcending the heavenly tribulation to become an immortal.

 

 

So long as the demonic cultivators didn’t go too far, the great orthodox sects would simply turn a blind eye to what they did.

 

 

In his past lives, Shen Jue had occasionally witnessed Xue Wenchun in the midst of an episode. In truth, there wasn’t much difference between when he was “ill” and when he wasn’t—Xue Wenchun’s nature was violent by default. When his condition flared, he simply became even more volatile and unpredictable.

 

 

 

…

 

Xue Wenchun squinted slightly at the little snowfield squirrel in his hand when it remained silent, as though displeased. His fingers brushed lightly across Shen Jue’s cheek—it wasn’t cold as usual, but strangely warm, even feverish.

 

 

Shen Jue saw the talismanic marks crawling from Xue Wenchun’s wrist up toward his fingertips. Disgust churned in him, but all he could do was stiffen and stay motionless.

 

 

During Xue Wenchun’s episodes, the best way to stay alive was to remain silent and perfectly still.

 

 

After stroking his cheek, Xue Wenchun simply set the squirrel down on his lap, running his fingers along its soft belly all the way to its tail. When he finished, he frowned, seemingly unsatisfied.

 

 

“Why aren’t you a nine-tailed fox?” he muttered. “If you were… that would be good.”

 

 

Shen Jue fell silent for a moment, then quietly cast a transformation spell.

 

 

He changed into the appearance of a nine-tailed fox. With his limited cultivation, he had intended to take on Fu Jiuyin’s form, but the finer details gave him away—for example, his own pair of red, furred ears.

 

 

Xue Wenchun paused for a beat before reaching out to touch the tail of this false fox, true squirrel. The spell didn’t last long. Before he could reach the ninth fake tail, Shen Jue reverted back to his original form.

 

 

A dark frown twisted Xue Wenchun’s brow. He flung Shen Jue aside, tugging irritably at his own collar, eyes filled with open disgust.

 

 

“A fake is still fake.”

 

 

Shen Jue wordlessly climbed back up and retreated to the farthest corner of the cave, curling himself tightly into a ball, trying to shrink his presence to nothing. Right now, he had no way of killing Xue Wenchun. This was the only thing he could do.

 

 

Xue Wenchun glanced at him a few times, then let out a cold snort and walked out. Before leaving, he set a barrier over the cave entrance.

 

 

It was unclear how much time had passed when Shen Jue suddenly heard voices.

 

 

“Had to leave Tianshui Sect, didn’t you? Now you’ve been caught by a demonic cultivator—is this comfortable enough for you?”

 

 

The painfully familiar voice made his head snap up instantly.

 

 

Fu Jiuyin stood at the mouth of the cave. His already exquisite features seemed even more dazzling beneath the moonlight. His fox-like eyes tilted at the corners, red lips curved in a half-smile.

 

Clad in robes of fiery red, he stood there like living flame, impossibly striking.

 

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