The next morning, Yun Cuo woke up with dark circles under his eyes.
He looks like someone who has never been close to cats suddenly gained favor. He dared not even move and didn’t even change his posture all night. Previously, it was him who shamelessly climbed onto Xue Huai’s bed, but today it’s different. It was Xue Huai who took the initiative to crawl over.
His hand lay horizontally on Xue Huai’s waist, and he held him carefully all night.
The next day, Xue Huai woke up with sleepy eyes, and when he looked up, Yun Cuo’s vigilant gaze appeared—preparing himself for the fact that he’s going to be kicked down.
He even thought that Xue Huai was sleepy and confused.
Xue Huai knew what he was thinking and couldn’t help but get playful. He reached out and rubbed his head haphazardly before saying, in a good mood, “Good morning, Little Young Master Yun.”
The gluttonous ghost also woke up and found himself sandwiched between Xue Huai and Yun Cuo, opening its eyes in terror.
Xue Huai didn’t care about one person’s and one ghost’s shock. He jumped off the shaky hammock, walked barefoot to the side to change clothes, hastily carried a piece of clothing to put on, and called the gluttonous ghost to come over to get dressed.
The small clothes he tailored for the gluttonous ghost were taken back by Yun Cuo yesterday, with a red background and white velvet flowers. They were very festive. Xue Huai let it lie on his lap, picked up its paws, and patiently dressed him. After putting it on, the gluttonous ghost looked at itself in the mirror, dancing like a lion with a confused expression but still happy, and spun in place a few times.
Xue Huai said, “You don’t need to cook today. Let’s go to the food garden to eat together ba. Isn’t it time to go to the trials?”
Yun Cuo saw that he had already tidied everything up, so he regained his senses and hurriedly went to wash up.
His sleepy hair was rubbed by Xue Huai, and he was unable to comb it for a long time. His hair, unlike the impression he himself gave to others, was extremely fine and soft and easily tangled when washed. He was afraid that Xue Huai would wait for long, so he tried hard to comb down the tangled pieces.
Xue Huai almost heard the sound of his hair straining and laughed. “What’s wrong with you? Take it easy, come here, I’ll comb it for you.”
Yun Cuo walked over cautiously. Xue Huai pressed him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and got up to brush his hair, relaxing his strength and slowly taking care of him.
While holding Yun Cuo’s hair, he told him, “When I was a child, my hair was also fine and soft, so it was not easy to take care of, and it would be painful if I combed it using force. When I was in a hurry, I wanted to cut it, so my mother taught me to comb it slowly and gently, and after a few more strokes, it naturally spread out—look.”
He twirled a strand of his hair so that Yun Cuo would incline his head to look at it, rather proudly showing him a little trick he’d learned in his childhood. Sheepishly white fingertips rested on his silvery, soft hair, brushing it for him with an almost gentle intensity.
Xue Huai asked him again, “I’ll braid it up for you, okay? You’re always putting up random crowns, that’s not very nice. Let’s use this fragrant melon hairpin with gold threads and openwork jewels. What do you think?
He has always simply braided his hair, hooked with a golden flat drop net, loose but not messy, and neatly fitted.
He reached out and handed the melon hairpin to Yun Cuo, asking him to see the beautiful black jade on it. He thought he liked black, but little did he know that it was the only color that looked indistinguishable from others in his eyes.
Yun Cuo said. “Okay.”
He lowered his gaze and looked at the hand that was resting lightly on his shoulder—slender and beautiful, one can see the beautiful contours of the bones but cannot see the pale green veins. At first glance, he knew it was the hand of a guy who had never experienced hardship and was cute and tight.
By a stroke of luck, he reached out and pressed down on Xue Huai’s wrist that was about to retract—tilting his head and kissing upwards in a serious manner.
The breath was scorching hot. The thirsty lips imprint on the warm skin, like they’re able to burn a slightly red mark on it.
With a whoosh, Xue Huai withdrew his hand, and the hairpin fell to the side of the bed. This action was completely subconscious, he didn’t expect Yun Cuo to suddenly kiss him. He said shyly, “Don’t move around.”
They were too close to each other. Xue Huai bent down, trying to cross him to pick up the hairpin, and his hand rested on his shoulder. Yun Cuo looked up and could only catch a glimpse of his delicate jaw and slightly red earlobes.
As if unconvinced, he suddenly reached out, pulling the person in front of him gently into his arms. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his face against his heart like a stray coyote probing for warmth.
After a moment of stiffness, Xue Huai calmly picked up the hairpin and continued to comb his hair for him. After finishing, he gently pushed on his shoulder and said, “Alright, let’s go out for dinner.”
Only then did Yun Cuo let go of him. He looked up at him, filled with uncertain joy.
Both of them were busy today. Yun Cuo is going to Murong Jinchuan’s place to rest and meditate. Xue Huai just rented the Faithful Crow from the underworld yesterday and needed to arrange things.
Unexpectedly, before both of them had a chance to leave, they heard that the level of the Extreme Realm Trial had been opened, it would be open for ten consecutive days, and the disciples in the sect would participate in sequence.
When Yun Cuo heard about this, he immediately went to find Xue Huai to do it together. Followed by a quick enrollment. Therefore, the two of them were in a very advanced position and would have to participate in the trial today.
Instead, Xue Huai breathed a sigh of relief—this early trial was just enough for them to make quick decisions, and he didn’t have to worry about taking time off and a whole bunch of other things to procrastinate on when the time came.
“So, Xue Huai, are we going over now?” Yun Cuo used his eyes to ask for his opinion.
Xue Huai nodded and then thought of something: “By the way, I’ll go back and get the weapon, you also bring it over as well. We’ve already tried several difficult trial scenarios before, and the Sect Master must have known about it, so maybe he’ll spice things up just for us.”
The young junior sister next to him heard this and exclaimed in surprise, “No way? Is Shizun that ruthless?”
Xue Huai said firmly, “Maybe there really is.”
He went back and took the spirit firegun over, and met Yun Cuo at the illusion’s entrance.
The illusionist in charge of their array of illusions happened to be Sha Hua. After seeing Xue Huai, he smiled and said, “Good morning, Xiao Huai.”
Yun Cuo gave him a wary glance and didn’t say anything. He thought he was remaining calm and composed while moving his steps quietly in an attempt to block Xue Huai, but Xue Huai saw through him at a glance—
He pulled Yun Cuo’s shoulder and tried to get close to his senior brother, trying to get some insider information: “How’s it going, Shixiong? Did the Sect Master tell you that he was going to put me and Yun Shidi to death?”
Sha Hua shook his head and said, “I can’t tell you this. Alright, hurry in.”
Xue Huai sighed and pulled Yun Cuo in.
As soon as they entered, Xue Huai knew he had guessed right—all five of the toughest trial challenges they had practiced before were in vain. Murong Jinchuan obviously knew that they had trained in advance and also knew which scenes they chose. Therefore, he simply didn’t use any of them and gave them all tests at the next level of difficulty.
If the difficulty level of the scenario is one level lower, then it means that they’ll increase the difficulty somewhere else.
Xue Huai clenched the spiritual firegun in his hand and felt the world around him with all his heart—he had a sharp hearing, and he quickly discerned a hint of an unusual wind in it.
He whispered, “Something is coming over, Yun Shidi.”
Yun Cuo glanced at him and didn’t say anything. He reached out and pulled him over, pulling him behind him.
In his hand, the sharp blades were already unsheathed. Xue Huai was behind him and saw that he was using the butterfly double knives that he had used on the battlefield in his previous life. One long and one short, flashy and powerful.
He said calmly, “Xue Huai, hide behind me.”
This feels strange, the person holding the knives is no longer him. Once upon a time, he was Yun Cuo’s sword, with the blade facing outward and unwaving. He grew bit by bit and gradually became the left protector, carving out all the paths to heaven for him. In this life, however, it was as if he had been turned into his sheath instead, changing into Yun Cuo protecting him, although it’s not that good yet.
Xue Huai said, “En… it’s okay, don’t worry about me. I’m a medicine cultivator, and I won’t have any problems.”
Yun Cuo turned around and glanced at him. Xue Huai extended his hands to demonstrate to him—he had previously been unable to control the starlight of the spiritual firegum when shooting down the bat, almost causing a major disaster, but when switching to healing spells, he would not have such concerns at all.
After the spiritual power is amplified, the most basic defense, purification, clearing, and repair skills grow rapidly. The power of medicinal cultivation is “revival” rather than “attack”, so it will not cause any destructive consequences.
He hasn’t reached the state where there’s nothing outside his mind yet. When he ponders aimlessly, the soft, starry rays sway over the sky and earth. With every step he took, his feet were like a spring, capable of producing countless flowers and tender leaves. Wherever they passed, the sky was clear, the clouds gathered and dispersed, and an invisible aura surrounded them.
Everything is in spring.
Especially Yun Cuo himself.
When the powerful healing spell came crashing down, he initially saw the sky and the earth changing color—in his eyes, the deep red sky and the eerie yellow-brown mountains and rivers suddenly shifted and squeezed out the colors he had never seen before—colorful and brilliant, vivid like a dream. He instinctively knew that it was the true color of the world, but it was too fleeting to catch, as if a candle were flickering through the screen.
But it was beautiful enough to make him lose his mind.
Onlookers only know that when people in the Demon Realm look directly at things in the Immortal Realm, they can’t see clearly, as if seeing through fog, but only Yun Cuo himself knows that he is different, different from all the immortals, and even more different from all the demons. Perhaps his demonic eyes were born from his half-immortal body, even though he used a spell to suppress the demon aura in his eyes, he also couldn’t see the original color of the object.
His world is always reddish or greenish. Reddish and greenish were the best-looking colors, as far as he could understand. And black is the only color he has in common with others.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to heal himself, and it wasn’t that he hadn’t looked into his eyes before, but today was the first time this had happened. The moment he was enveloped by the healing spell, he glimpsed a framed fragment of the real world, as if a blinding person had blown away that leaf.
Xue Huai suddenly realized that Yun Cuo had stopped moving.
This half-demon youth stopped in his tracks and tilted his head to look at the sky. A bewilderment and fascination that he could not comprehend appeared in his expression.
He vaguely glimpsed the door to the fragrant, wonderful other world there, and that door was opened for him by Xue Huai.
Yun Cuo asked softly, “Xue Huai, what are you thinking?”
Xue Huai looked at him and said without hesitation. “Thinking about you.”
These are not nonsense words. The healing spell was over his head. Who else could he be thinking about, if not him?
He weighed the spiritual fire gun in his hand and casually played with it for a moment. The muzzle of the gun was aimed at Yun Cuo, and his fingertips revealed the brilliance of purifying one’s heart spell: “Go on, Yun Shidi! Shixiong is watching you from behind.”
He evoked a brisk smile, as if playfulness had been thoroughly aroused, and Yun Cuo was hooked by such a gaze, bitten to death—
At that moment, there was no need to confirm anything.
The person in front of him is the same person from his previous life, with the same vigor and youthful charm. He carried with him the ease of someone who has been through battles and the composure of his youthful detachment.
That gust of wind finally came. At the edge of the illusion, there is a Zhu Jiuyin1Zhu Jiuyin is a legendary creature mentioned in “Tomb Robbers Notes”, it was called Zhulong in ancient time. It was actually a huge poisonous snake from ancient times. Cr: Baidu.appeared, with its yellow snake eyes, pierced through hell and hissing in a hauntingly woeful manner.
Xue Huai and Yun Cuo, in unison, met their target.
His knives were used for ten out of ten purposes in Yun Cuo’s hand. Yun Cuo had always been like this when it came to killing: violent, precise, and ruthless, just like Xue Huai. When he walked forward, Xue Huai closely followed, healing his new wounds and creating a barrier for him. The two of them had never cooperated to kill a ferocious beast before, but they were able to get through it smoothly and flawlessly.
In the first level, Murong Jinchuan, brought a Zhu Jiuyin.
In the second level, there are twenty Red Flame Golden Beasts.
The third level is a million Yin soldiers2Yin soldiers, pinyin: yīn bīng, are also called ghost soldiers. As the name suggests, they are an army composed of ghosts in the underworld, responsible for escorting souls. Cr: Baidu..
After the fourth level, there are no more sudden, fierce beasts or ghosts. Murong Jinchuan still felt sorry for these two little ones. In the end, he randomly selected two moderately difficult levels for them.
The fourth layer is not a big deal, the problem lies in the fifth layer.
The fifth layer is pure white mist, which is the mountaintop where Yun Cuo practices daily. The difficulty is not high, but it happens to be Xue Huai’s dead end.
All white and all black are the ultimate tests, darkness spawns fear and panic, and pure white spawns confusion and doubt.
Xue Huai got separated from Yun Cuo here—the fog prevented all sound, light, and heat from getting through, leaving him almost suffocated.
He didn’t expect that he could hardly hold on at this level—this scenario took him straight back to the scenario of his last life when he was dying. So similar, with all the snow and aimless pursuit, he didn’t even know how he died. He only knew that in that one moment, he was free from the reins of his horse, and in the next moment, the wind blew by, his soul left his body, and he was unable to turn back.
Before his soul was drawn by the two impermanences, Xie Bian and Fan Wujiu, what he fell into was a completely white mystery.
All white.
Only after dying once can one know what the feeling of being surrounded by eternal coldness is, which is even more despairing than putting a living person in a tomb. It didn’t give Xue Huai a chance to catch his breath—it’s straight up crushing people to death, forcing them to the point where there’s no way back.
It’s his inner demon.
Death, death is the only obstacle he cannot overcome.
He was covered in a cold sweat and closed his eyes as he took one step forward into the wind, but everything was white, with no way to go and no edges.
He is almost dead, no one can hear his voice, no one is waiting for him on the Naihe Bridge, he has nothing left.
He was about to fall uncontrollably, disappearing like a dandelion scattered in the wind, but he immediately felt a pair of hands gripping him hard, pulling him up, and holding him tightly in his arms.
At that moment, the white mist seemed to have dissipated.
The worried voice of Yun Cuo penetrated his mind, evoking a hint of clarity: “Xue Huai? Xue Huai? What’s wrong with you?”
Xue Huai reluctantly regained consciousness, only to realize that his whole body had been soaked in cold sweat. He was trembling all over, but he couldn’t say a word.
Yun Cuo saw his appearance, and without saying a word, he hugged him tightly in his arms, carefully patting his back and coaxing, “It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t be afraid. This is where our sword -cultivator usually meditates. After sunrise, the fog will dissipate. We can stay here until sunrise, and then we will go down the mountain and go out immediately.”
Xue Huai is still trembling, unable to say a word. Yun Cuo clumsily spoke to him sentence by sentence, aimlessly speaking, from today’s food to the weather in a few days, trying to get him to stabilize.
Xue Huai slowly calmed down. Yun Cuo held him until the mist gradually dissipated, revealing the scenery around them—a wide mountaintop with no boundaries.
Yun Cuo asked him, “Can you walk? Xue Huai, I’ll carry you on my back.”
Xue Huai shook his head and spoke hoarsely, “I’m fine now.”
Yun Cuo looked at him with concern. Xue Huai smiled at him casually and said, “I’m really okay now.”
He pinched his own wrist, and there was a definite pinch and pain, but it wasn’t enough to prove that he was still alive. He was someone who was used to being in pain, so it wasn’t enough.
He wants something warm and fresh, something alive. He wants to taste candy and drink into the spring to set his frozen soul on fire.
He looked at Yun Cuo, looking at him motionlessly, and suddenly leaned over—sucking on his lips hard. He clasped his hands together onto his and intertwined his fingers, almost crushing him to the ground.
Is it sweet?
Xue Huai is a bit dazed.
He remembered when Yun Cuo kissed him under the pear tree, and Yun Cuo said, “It’s sweet.”
He searched for the hint of sweetness, wanting to taste that sweetness even if he died, but it was quickly reversed—Yun Cuo quickly tightened his grip, squeezed his waist, and deeply kissed him. He didn’t know what his teenage boy had ended up going through or what kind of inner demons and fears he had in his heart, the only thing he could do was be by his side.
Comfort him and protect him.
He held Xue Huai’s face. The softness of his skin is in his palm, it’s warm and delicate. Yun Cuo closed his eyes, their breaths intertwined, making people tremble and shiver. He felt like he was dreaming, and he almost unable to hold back his voice and shout loudly, and there was an unreal feeling—
Blissful.
The author has something to say: Three-year-old Yun: wifey is scared! I’ll take a sip……two sips……three sips……quq
