Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 14

Their destination this time was a mountain village about fifty kilometers away from Yujing Academy. By the time they arrived by carriage, night had already fallen.

The supervising teacher went into the village to speak with the liaison and arrange accommodations for the students, while the rest stayed at the village entrance, setting up tents at the foot of the mountain to spend the night.

The students were divided into two groups—one to stay in the village, the other to camp outside. There was no other choice: the village was too small to house everyone, and besides, someone needed to stay on watch in case of emergencies.

Thus, the girls were given priority to lodge with villagers, while the boys were left to camp at the foot of the mountain.

The weather was turning cold, so they had no choice but to huddle in sleeping bags to get by.

The body’s original owner hadn’t had good relations in the Academy. Bullying often came in groups: when a few picked on him, others followed, so hardly anyone was willing to share a tent with Xi Che. Originally, three students were assigned to their tent, but one of them, upon seeing Xi Che, frowned and finally ran off to squeeze in with a friend in the next tent.

So now, only he and Chu Qi remained in the tent.

Settled for the moment, he leaned against the corner and pulled out from his bag the list Zhan Yujin had given him, flipping through it to see whether Bi Yuan’s name was on it. The list was surprisingly detailed—not only names, but also photos and basic information, clearly prepared with care.

Yet, nowhere in the list was there a “Bi Yuan.”

“Tch, so Bi Yuan’s disappearance had nothing to do with the demon-hunting missions? Did I guess wrong again?”

Xi Che sighed slightly, about to put the list away, when he noticed that the silent Chu Qi beside him was secretly peeking at the list in his hands.

Xi Che chuckled and waved it at him, taking the initiative to say: “The elders at home told me a lot of students died in the demon-hunting actions, so they warned me to be careful this time. They even gave me this death list, probably as a reminder.”

Chu Qi shifted his gaze away, as if to say he wasn’t interested.

But his silence made things feel awkward.

Just then, someone came over to bring them food, breaking the tension.

Conditions during demon-hunting expeditions were always rough, especially for those camping outside at the foot of the mountain. Villagers prepared meals, but the food was mostly buns or flatbread—simple rations.

Xi Che couldn’t stomach cold buns with cold water. As it was his first time on such a mission, he hadn’t thought ahead to bring dried meat or the like, and regretted it deeply.

Since they had arrived late, after the meal the teacher ordered everyone to rest early and conserve energy.

But lying in his sleeping bag, Xi Che tossed and turned endlessly. By the fifth sigh and flop, his tentmate finally couldn’t take it anymore. A cold voice came from the corner:

“You’re too noisy.”

Xi Che sat up like a caterpillar springing upright. “Argh! I can’t stand it!”

There was a pause, then that cold voice again: “Why has your stomach been growling nonstop?”

“Because I’m hungry, obviously!”

Xi Che regretted it bitterly—he should’ve forced down a few more buns earlier. Having barely eaten and only drunk a little water, he was now too hungry to sleep.

What baffled him was that normally, the moment his head hit the pillow, he would be pulled into those strange dreams with Chu Yan. But these past two days—nothing. No dreams at all. “So unreliable,” he thought. If the dreams continued, he wouldn’t even notice the hunger.

Instead, he was caught in a vicious cycle: the hungrier, the less he slept; the less he slept, the hungrier he became. His mind filled with images of roast chicken, pork knuckles, braised pork hock…

He swallowed hard, then suddenly turned to Chu Qi. “I saw you didn’t eat much tonight either. Why don’t we go up the mountain and catch some game to roast?”

The tent was pitch-black, so he couldn’t see the other’s face, but Chu Qi’s silence felt like he was being called crazy.

And yes, Xi Che admitted, sneaking into the mountains at midnight to hunt was a little crazy—but he was starving. Back then, he was famous for being a carnivore. But gods were supposed to practice abstinence, including from food and drink. Good meat was rare.

So he often snuck out to catch his own. Whether it was immortal cranes or exotic birds, if he craved them, they ended up roasted.

Of course, many of those birds belonged to others, and he was often reported to the Pimi Hall, where the Old War God was pressured to punish him.

But Pimi Hall was unlike other divine palaces. Others had multiple disciples waiting to inherit, but the War God’s lineage had only Xi Che in thousands of years—no one else. Before he appeared, the Old War God had feared their line would end with him.

And being terribly protective of his disciple, punishment was usually just scolding, never real. So Xi Che never changed his habit.

Later, he learned to be sly—no longer stealing from aviaries, but sneaking off to hunt beasts with no owners.

His mouth was spoiled and greedy, a flaw he never grew out of.

Lost in thought, he had already wriggled out of his sleeping bag and started dressing. Whispering quickly, he said: “Well? Are you coming? If you are, hurry up. Don’t wake the others.”

After a moment’s silence, the reply came: “I’m not hungry.”

Xi Che snorted. “Oh, is that so? Fine, but if you get hungry later and your stomach keeps me awake, I’ll toss you out of the tent.”

“……”

In the end, Chu Yan still went with him. He couldn’t even explain why.

Unlike mortals, he didn’t need food. That’s why he had only taken a symbolic bite earlier. Yet, when Xi Che impatiently proposed hunting in the mountains, he felt a strange sense of familiarity.

Just like… that person.

He never hid his cravings, never cared what others said about his lack of restraint. He often raided aviaries for birds to roast.

This Xi Che resembled Asa oo much.

In the cold night, Chu Yan watched a lithe black figure move like a panther through the darkness. Soon, Xi Che locked onto a rabbit in the grass, quickly muttered an incantation, then shouted:

“Qing !”

A brilliant white light struck the rabbit, and with a cheer, Xi Che scooped it up, shaking it excitedly at him.

Even the triumphant grin afterward was the same.

“Tonight we’ll eat well!”

Holding the rabbit, Xi Che ran back to him, eyes crinkled in a grin. “Come on, quick! Gather some firewood.”

Chu Yan, though already having a pile of firewood, suddenly felt a wave of unease at that smile. With a flick of his finger, flames roared to life.

Startled, Xi Che then looked at him with delight. “Wow, you didn’t even chant an incantation! That’s amazing.”

Chu Yan’s heart tightened. He wanted to explain, but Xi Che was already busy cleaning the rabbit, ignoring him.

For gods, such bloody scenes were unpleasant, especially for the devout—after all, all beings were considered children of the gods. But Xi Che deftly prepared the rabbit, cleansed it with a spell, and set it on the fire.

Noticing Chu Qi’s silence, he asked: “You’re not human, are you?”

Chu Yan froze. Before he could respond, Xi Che continued: “That trick earlier wasn’t something a human could do. Humans don’t have innate power; they rely on chants and hand signs. To cast without them requires at least centuries of cultivation. Are you a demon, then?”

Certainly not an incubus—his plain looks alone proved that.

Chu Yan studied him, saw no scheming in his face, only genuine curiosity.

So he nodded and admitted: “Yes.”

Xi Che’s eyes sparkled. “Are you here for the God of light’s inheritance too?”

“Yes—for the sake of our kind.”

Xi Che nodded. “Same as me. No wonder we get along. Well, no need to pretend then—I’m not human either.”

Chu Yan didn’t ask his race, and Xi Che didn’t press his. The topic was dropped, both instead focusing on roasting the rabbit.

The fire was hot and fast; soon the air was filled with a rich aroma. Xi Che tore off a golden-brown leg and handed it to Chu Yan. “Try my cooking.”

Though he had no need to eat, Chu Yan found himself accepting it anyway.

The two happily split the rabbit.

Afterward, Xi Che checked the time—it wasn’t even ten yet—and suggested: “Since it’s still early, let’s catch a few more rabbits or pheasants. We can roast them and save them for later. Who knows how long we’ll be here. If it’s more dry buns, at least we’ll have an alternative.”

By his usual standards, Chu Yan would’ve refused. He should’ve refused from the very start, in fact. But tonight, he kept breaking his own rules, acting in ways that didn’t feel like him.

“Hurry up, then.”

Xi Che leapt to his feet. “Wait here.”

But Chu Yan couldn’t just sit idle. As soon as Xi Che went off, he followed. He convinced himself it was his duty—he had joined this mission precisely to keep watch on him, so he couldn’t leave him alone.

Xi Che was indeed skilled. Soon he spotted another rabbit and, like an eager hunting dog, charged after it.

If he hadn’t said he was an incubus, Chu Yan would have sworn he was some kind of dog demon.

His chase was reminiscent of a sleek Chinese hound.

Chu Yan trailed at a steady pace. The rabbit froze, and Xi Che crouched low, creeping closer.

When he was just a meter away, he lunged and grabbed it by the ears, shouting triumphantly:

“Got it!”

Then came a scream. “Shit!”

Suddenly, Xi Che dropped straight down, as if the earth had swallowed him.

Chu Yan lunged, barely catching his wrist—but the ground beneath them gave way, and both plunged down together.

…There really was a hole here.