Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 19

Because of the backlash from the spell, Xi Che lost consciousness, so he didn’t see the moment when Chu Yan summoned the Taiyi Sword. His soul was trapped inside his sea of consciousness, swinging between hot and cold, unable even to reach White Tiger.

This backlash was vicious.

No wonder the Divine Realm forbade the study of such “forbidden arts.” If one’s ability was lacking but still tried to force their use, this was the result.

…

But how many times had this happened already? Since his rebirth, apart from teaching that bully Young Master Rong Shi a lesson, nothing else had gone smoothly. Recently it was worse—failure after failure, all right in front of Chu Qi. As the former God of War, his dignity was in shambles.

Ah, suddenly he almost missed Young Master Rong Shi—hurry back so he could smack him around and reclaim some pride!

Xi Che felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, shivering violently. This cold wasn’t simply physical; it was as if his very soul was being frozen, an unbearable torment.

Just as he thought he’d freeze solid, a warm current suddenly spread from his dantian, flowing slowly along his meridians. Xi Che was puzzled, but soon he exhaled in relief, regaining control of his body.

He opened his eyes.

And instantly wished he hadn’t.

He found himself staring straight into Chu Qi’s face. Judging from what he could see, the distance between them was far too close.

He was practically lying in his arms.

As if sensing his gaze, Chu Qi also opened his eyes, and those phoenix-like eyes looked straight into Xi Che’s, giving him the illusion of being seen through completely.

They stared for a few seconds before Xi Che turned away in fluster, only then realizing it wasn’t just that he was too close.

Neither of them was wearing clothes.

They were sitting inside a large wooden tub filled with steaming water, palms pressed together, facing each other.

What in the world was going on?

“What are you doing…” Xi Che ground out through clenched teeth, immediately trying to get up, but a firm pressure at his lower back forced him still. “If you don’t want to die, don’t move.”

As if to stop him from pulling away, the hand pressed against his palm slid through his fingers, locking them together. Xi Che could clearly feel Chu Qi’s other hand pressed against his lower back. Even through the water, their bodies were almost completely touching.

But Chu Qi’s expression left little room for misunderstanding. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading his forehead—even while seated like this, body to body, it was obvious he was concentrating seriously.

Xi Che twitched the corner of his mouth, forcing himself to calm down. “…Is this really necessary?”

Surely Chu Qi was helping him dispel the backlash from the spirit-summoning spell—but… did it have to be done naked?

Chu Qi stayed silent, the hand at Xi Che’s waist unmoving. After a long moment he said, “You used forbidden sorcery to summon spirits and suffered backlash, your soul locked inside a restrictive ward. I could directly inject spell force to shatter the ward, but the ward’s energy and mine conflict. Even if I succeed, your body would be torn apart by the impact. The only option is to channel my power into your meridians, circulate it gradually, and dissolve the ward bit by bit. But if the heat cannot be properly dispersed, your body won’t be able to bear it.”

Xi Che understood. In simple terms, he was too weak now for any simple, brute-force method. Chu Qi’s approach was like using warm water to melt ice—circulating his power through Xi Che’s meridians, eroding the restrictive force little by little.

“…I get it.”

He hesitated, then glanced at Chu Qi, who had closed his eyes again to focus. Xi Che stared at him, dazed for a moment.

When using the Soul-Summoning spell in the Bone Lands, Xi Che had seen fragments of memory. At the very last moment, although he hadn’t managed to see what the chains were attached to, he had caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure—a man in a wheelchair, with a sullen expression, the only living being in that cave.

His name was Jin Lingzi, once Xi Che’s subordinate when he was Prince Shen in the Demon Realm.

A true-blooded demon—not like harmless, frail incubi, but a formidable one who had served as chief guardian under the Tenth Prince of the Demon Clan. His temper was foul.

Though unruly and disobedient, he was simple at heart and frighteningly quick to learn. Xi Che had seen his potential and taught him several of his own created arts, including Soul-Summoning.

Now he felt a faint unease.

Even if Jin Lingzi wasn’t wicked by nature, he was still a demon. In that environment, it was impossible to stay untainted.

When Xi Che was alive, he could restrain him somewhat. After his death—what might Jin Lingzi have done?

For a few seconds, he truly suspected it had been Jin Lingzi who captured people into that cave and created the White Bone grounds.

If so—why? For what purpose? Or, who might have incited him? If not—why was he there at all?

Sensing Xi Che’s distraction, Chu Yan opened his eyes. Seeing Xi Che frowning in distress, he asked, “What did you remember?”

Xi Che returned to himself, hesitating. Of course, he couldn’t mention Jin Lingzi—how could he explain knowing him? Instead, he skimmed over the truth, offering a partial account: “Bi Yuan and others were once imprisoned in a cave, with many people like him.”

He paused before continuing: “My elders once told me that many students vanish during demon-hunting expeditions. Out of so many each year, there are always thirty or fifty who never return… but their bodies are never found. Do you think… they could have become those bones beneath us?”

They might also have been attacked and transformed into those zombie-like creatures. After all, in Bi Yuan’s fragments, Xi Che had seen them assaulting villages. If students had been there, they could easily have fallen victim too. Also, when performing the Soul-Summoning, Xi Che had realized: among all those corpses, not one intact soul remained. The bones responded to his summoning only because someone had likely used such a spell on them before.

But Xi Che left those parts unsaid. He didn’t want Chu Qi to know too much—or to think he himself knew too much.

Though Chu Qi had saved him several times, Xi Che remained wary. Chu Qi’s identity was far too suspicious: so powerful, yet posing as a student… What was his true goal at Yujing Academy?

Xi Che couldn’t let his guard down.

Chu Yan, however, seemed unconcerned with such mysteries. Frowning, he squeezed Xi Che’s hand and said, “Put aside these distractions for now. Focus on fixing your body.”

Xi Che hesitated, then nodded. But of course he couldn’t truly stop thinking—his mind kept circling back. Even if it was Jin Lingzi’s doing, how had all those bodies ended up in that cave?

“It’s raining.”

He was still lost in thought when Chu Yan suddenly spoke. He blinked, confused—before Chu Yan added, “Sit on my lap.”

“…What?”

“Sit on my lap. Quickly.”

“….”

Are you kidding me?! They were already far too close—now sit on him? That was absurd! They were still strangers!

The hot water filled the tub high enough that their shoulders were submerged, sparing them from seeing each other’s bodies. But sitting in his lap—close contact would be unavoidable!

When Xi Che hesitated, Chu Yan grew impatient. With one hand on his waist, he pulled: “Can’t you feel how your energy is blocked? The power I’m channeling into you is stuck in your dantian. Your spirit platform is fragile, your meridians narrow… Come here, now!”

“Wait—hold on!”

Before Xi Che could react, Chu Yan had already lifted him with one arm and sat him directly on his lap.

Xi Che was stunned speechless—but indeed, he was now sitting atop Chu Qi. Their dantians pressed directly together.

…The situation was now: Chu Yan sat cross-legged in the tub, and Xi Che sat cross-legged on top of him.

So close, without clothes—any slight movement, and things could get very inappropriate.

They’d known each other less than two days—this was unbearably awkward!

One of his hands was held tightly by Chu Yan, the other clinging to his shoulder. Xi Che tensed, trying to lean away: “Is this really necessary…? Can’t you let me down—”

Chu Yan’s brows furrowed, his cheeks faintly flushed. “Stop moving! Or else…”

He didn’t finish, but Xi Che understood: otherwise, things might get out of hand.

Furious but wary of disrupting the fragile balance, Xi Che froze. At the same time, the contact at his dantian felt like a surge of force hammering into him, expanding his meridians. Cold sweat poured down his face.

Most of his body now stuck above the hot water, drenched by chilly autumn rain from outside—cold above, hot below, goosebumps prickled all over his skin.

Sensing his trembling, Chu Yan scooped up hot water and poured it over him. “Cold?”

Xi Che shook his head, shivering. It wasn’t cold—just dizzy, his thoughts blurring.

Seeing this, Chu Yan simply wrapped him tightly into his arms, locking them into a full embrace.

Chu Yan was the Celestial God of light—his inherited divine name itself contained the word Flame. His body was naturally hot. Normally imperceptible, but pressed together like this, it radiated intensely.

Xi Che’s head spun again, and he slumped unconscious onto Chu Yan’s shoulder.

Chu Yan looked down at his face. “Asa…”

Xi Che didn’t stir. Chu Yan sighed. “…Forget it. You’re more obedient when you’re passed out.”