Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 28

The Vermilion Bird’s current state naturally had to do with the soul-hooking chain.

Yet Chu Yan spoke of it very lightly:

“After the soul-hooking chain pulled the Vermilion Bird from my sea of consciousness, it sealed him in thousand-year ice. Over time, the link between us became extremely weak. Later, although the Vermilion Bird returned to me, our connection was never restored, and his long imprisonment left him damaged — every so often he must be frozen again. I can only keep him in the Bibo Pool. The geothermal lava at the hot spring’s source can help him recover his strength.”

Xi Che looked at him.

“That must affect you too.”

With the primordial soul damaged, a god’s power would also be severely reduced.

Chu Yan didn’t seem to care:

“It’s nothing.”

Well, yes. During the war of gods and demons, even the most powerful demons were wiped out. Even if Chu Yan’s power was weakened, it didn’t seem to matter much. The punishment for him was truly cruel — whether for the Vermilion Bird or Chu Yan himself, their natures loved heat and hated cold, yet they locked the Vermilion Bird into ice…

Xi Che could only ask again:

“Then why exactly did you take the punishment of the soul-hooking chain — was it because of me…”

Before he could finish, Chu Yan cut him off:

“Don’t take everything upon yourself. This has nothing to do with you, and don’t ask anymore. I will not tell you.”

Not telling him — wasn’t that even more suspicious?

Xi Che guessed the matter was very likely connected to himself. When he left the Nine Nether back then, everyone knew he had the closest relationship with Chu Yan. Saying Chu Yan was implicated by him wasn’t impossible.

Xi Che suddenly asked:

“Where did you go today?”

Chu Yan stayed silent.

“Is it related to the Vermilion Bird’s condition… He’s turned into this, there’s no way you’re unaffected. Are you also feeling unwell?”

Seeing Chu Yan still silent, Xi Che slapped the table, anxious:

“Tell me!”

After hesitating a moment, Chu Yan finally spoke the truth:

“I went to Shennong to fetch a Fire-Spirit Pill.”

As he spoke, he opened his palm to Xi Che. In it lay a small purple-gold gourd. Even from a distance Xi Che could feel the heat it radiated. He could already guess what it was for. He knew it — with the Vermilion Bird in such a state, Chu Yan couldn’t possibly be unscathed. This was for treating his wounds…

Seeing there was no point hiding further, Chu Yan laid it all out:

“Tonight I must go alone to the Bibo Pool to cultivate and refine the Fire-Spirit Pill, so I can’t drink with you.”

Xi Che almost laughed and cried at once:

“At a time like this, you’re talking about drinking… All you need is the Bibo Pool? No need to seclude yourself?”

Chu Yan shook his head:

“Nothing serious. I just need to refine the Fire-Spirit Pill.”

Xi Che exhaled slightly, though he felt depressed:

“Too bad I’m only an incubus now. If I still had my old body, I could at least help you, act as your guardian or something…”

Chu Yan smiled faintly and, out of habit, patted Xi Che’s head:

“It really doesn’t matter. Don’t worry.”

Then he thought a moment:

“Shennong… hasn’t seen you in a long time. Why don’t you stay at his place tonight.”

“Why? You’re afraid I’ll disturb you?”

After a pause, Chu Yan said:

“The shaman also knows of my old wound. I’m afraid he’ll take the chance to cause trouble at the Yujing Palace. If you’re not here, he won’t do anything to me. But if you run into him…”

Xi Che instantly understood and nodded:

“Right, right. The shaman at least is reasonable. Between him and me it’s a private grudge. As long as I’m not here, he won’t harm you.”

“I’ll take you there.”

“No need! Focus on your preparation tonight. I know the way to Shennong Hall.”

But in the end Chu Yan still personally escorted Xi Che to Shennong Hall. Right now he saw Xi Che as if he were fragile glass, one slip and he’d shatter beyond repair. With the shaman watching like a tiger across the abyss, of course Chu Yan had to watch over him constantly.

Xi Che looked up at Chu Yan:

“If I hadn’t noticed the Vermilion Bird’s condition, what excuse would you have used to send me to Shennong?”

Chu Yan smiled:

“Shennong’s our old friend. Hearing you’d returned, he’s long wanted to see you. Why would I need an excuse?”

Xi Che pouted — so he’d planned this from the start.

This man, outwardly honest, actually had plenty of little schemes. And because he always acted like a gentleman, his credibility was excellent; when he lied it was hard to catch.

Had he ever lied to him…?

Xi Che muttered inwardly, but at last arrived at Shennong Hall. Only when Chu Yan handed him to Shennong did he relax.

Shennong was a white-haired, white-bearded old man. Unlike the Dream Master, he didn’t look like a child in an elder’s body — he looked every inch the elder. Chu Yan liked dealing with people like that. In his eyes, the older someone was, the more reliable.

“Shennong, long time no see.”

The white-bearded old man looked at Xi Che, snorted from his nose — that was his greeting:

“Isn’t this the War God? How come you’ve turned into such a wreck, no cultivation at all.”

Xi Che knew Shennong didn’t like talking much, nor saying pleasant things, so he wasn’t surprised. He just scratched his head and grinned:

“Couldn’t help it. I got summoned by an incubus, then muddle-headed ended up in this body.”

“Incubus?”

Shennong looked surprised, then thoughtful, repeating the word as he sized Xi Che up from head to toe:

“Incubus… Could it be Heaven’s will?”

“What will?”

Shennong only shook his head and stopped speaking, turning back to tending herbs and refining pills, ignoring Xi Che. He’d always been like this — a master healer with a strange temper, cold toward anything outside herbs and medicine. During the war of gods and demons, he was one of the few gods who never took part.

Xi Che guessed he probably didn’t even know when the war started or ended. With such a temperament and his hall so remote in the Nine Nether, how could he know?

Xi Che didn’t bother him, just sat appreciating the décor. Shennong’s alchemy room held many little gourds, each exquisitely beautiful, four walls full of them.

But even the prettiest gourds get boring after a while. When Xi Che had looked at them all, he got restless, crouched next to Shennong and asked:

“Shennong, can I ask you something? You’ve been treating Chu Yan’s wounds all along, haven’t you?”

Shennong was pounding herbs. He answered with a single “Mm”:

“Who else could treat him?”

Xi Che grinned, edging closer:

“Then you know how he got injured, right? Do you know why he took the soul-hooking chain punishment?”

Shennong didn’t even lift his eyelids:

“I only heal, I don’t pry. As for how the God of light was wounded, or why he was punished, you should ask him.”

Xi Che rolled his eyes and muttered:

“If he’d tell me, would I be asking you?”

At last Shennong looked up, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t. He went back to grinding herbs. That look made Xi Che’s hair stand on end:

“Hey! Old man! What’s with you! All evening it’s been cryptic hints and half-spoken riddles. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out!”

Shennong shook his head and sighed:

“The God of light is a good god. Pity… he may fall into god-death ahead of time.”

Xi Che froze:

“What do you mean?”

“His wound dates back two hundred years. At first he often came to me for medicine, to meditate and regulate his breath. But for some reason, after that battle he suddenly stopped coming. For about two hundred years he hasn’t taken any Fire-Spirit Pills from me. I don’t know how he’s endured. Yesterday he came again. I saw his condition — hm, it’s no different from a terminal illness.”

Xi Che refused to believe:

“Impossible. Chu Yan looks perfectly healthy. He looks like he could live tens of thousands of years. Don’t talk nonsense.”

“I never speak nonsense about a patient’s condition. His primordial soul is frozen longer and longer each time. At first only the time for a cup of tea each day; under my treatment it gradually extended to once a day. Yesterday he said in one day he was frozen for eleven hours. Clearly the cold poison has long accumulated; medicine is helpless.”

Hearing this was like a thunderclap to Xi Che. He’d thought Chu Yan’s search for a successor was a joke. Looking at him he saw no problem at all. He’d never imagined he was actually a terminally ill god?!

“Impossible… impossible. You gave him the Fire-Spirit Pill, didn’t you? Isn’t it working?”

Shennong glanced at him:

“If he had persisted in treatment back then, it would have. Now… whether it works, I can’t say.”

Xi Che suddenly felt as if he’d plunged into an ice hole, his blood going cold. How could this be…

He snapped back, snatched the pestle from Shennong’s hands and roared:

“You must have another way to save him, right? Stop speaking in riddles — tell me!”

Shennong’s beard twitched:

“And why do you think I can save him?”

“You just said it was Heaven’s will. What does that mean! Don’t tell me it has nothing to do with Chu Yan!”

Shennong looked at Xi Che a long moment, then finally relented:

“So you are clever… Originally there was no saving him. But if you’re an incubus, there may be one last chance.”

He went to the south wall, pushed his hand forward. All the little gourds vanished into the wall like ghosts, leaving only a slightly larger one slowly emerging from the central niche. Shennong took it down and handed it to Xi Che:

“This is the pill I spent my life’s effort refining. It can greatly increase cultivation for a short time. It’s called Great Authority Nine-Thousand. After taking it, you can temporarily gain high cultivation.”

Xi Che didn’t understand:

“What’s the use of giving me this?”

“You’re an incubus. Take it, and you can draw the cold poison from the God of light’s body into your own.”

“Draw it out… how?”

Shennong raised an eyebrow:

“Dual cultivation.”

“…”

Shennong continued:

“You used to be the War God. You should know how to dual cultivate. I’ve also studied inccubi — they seem to have a special way of dual cultivating, making the effect twice as good with half the effort. Of course, taking the Great Authority Nine-Thousand will cause great harm to your body. After taking it, your cultivation will reach its peak; within half a year it will steadily decline. When it drops to zero, that will be the day you die.”

Xi Che was stunned. Shennong shook his head:

“But if you don’t dare, forget it. God of light will surely die.”

He moved to take back the gourd, but Xi Che snatched it, suddenly smiling:

“Getting to live again at all is a profit. Let alone another half a year.”

Half a year would be enough to uncover what had happened in the mortal realm.

Chu Yan had never once told him why he’d taken the punishment of the soul-hooking chain. Xi Che knew it must be because of him, that he’d caused Chu Yan’s suffering.

He had to settle this.

“I’m going back to the Yujing Palace to find Chu Yan right now.”

Shennong glanced at him:

“You’d best hurry. After so long, using the Fire-Spirit Pill suddenly is dangerous.”

“And you didn’t say so earlier!”

Xi Che shouted and bolted for the door, then stopped suddenly and turned back:

“A life for a life… Old man, aren’t you afraid of divine retribution for making such a wicked pill?”

Shennong actually smiled:

“Didn’t you burn the Heavenly Rules of the Langfeng Pavilion yourself, War God?”

“…”

Shennong picked up the pestle again, grinding herbs, his face cold:

“I never cared much who won the war. But compared to you — the traitor who left the Nine Nether and triggered the war — the God of light’s survival benefits the Three Realms more. Trading your life for his is a good bargain.”

Xi Che knew Shennong had no personal love or hate toward him. These words were just facts, an icy, rational weighing of pros and cons for the Three Realms. Shennong was a god of medicine but still a god; what he did was the simplest comparison. Xi Che believed if the positions were reversed, Shennong would also calmly judge whether his own survival or Chu Yan’s would better serve the Three Realms.

That was divinity… Proper divinity should be like this.

Xi Che gripped the little gourd and nodded:

“You’re right. I too hope the one who survives is Chu Yan.”