Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 34

The mountain emitting a faint violet glow looked close, yet actually reaching it took considerable effort. Truly worthy of being called an exile’s land — everywhere they passed was desolate and lifeless, much of the ground swallowed by darkness so deep that it was hard to see even the path ahead. To call it barren would be no exaggeration.

Several times along the way, Xi Che felt as if someone were watching them — eyes hiding among the rocks or the shadows of tall, twisted plants. The gaze was sharp and unsettling, like a butcher appraising meat on a cutting board.

But no attack ever came. Perhaps whoever lurked in the dark sensed that Chu Yan was not someone to provoke… or maybe it was the clothes they wore, carrying some kind of deterrent power.

Traveling in such a place easily wore one down, but having Chu Yan by his side made it bearable. They talked from time to time, which helped ease the exhaustion.

“You… how have you all been?” Xi Che finally found a chance to ask. “After I left, the Nether Realm must have been much more peaceful, right?”

Chu Yan caught the emotion hidden in his tone. “It would be more accurate to say it’s become more boring than before.”

Xi Che blinked, then teased, “Because there’s nothing left to do?”

“Not exactly. The Nether Realm has been restoring its old systems — rebuilding the Fengzao Palace, searching for newly born deities. I actually have more responsibilities now than I used to.”

Some deities appeared outside the Nether Realm, so search teams had to be sent out. But the gods of the Nether were few, and those who could be retrieved even fewer.

“It was more interesting when you were still there.”

The words should have been comforting, yet ever since Xi Che had decided to make Chu Yan give up his feelings for him, such talk only made him uneasy. Dwelling on the past felt meaningless, so he stayed silent.

Then Chu Yan suddenly remembered something. He reached into his sleeve and took out a small object, handing it to Xi Che. “Here — this is for you.”

It was the little brocade qilin he had caught earlier.

Xi Che glanced at it and almost laughed — wasn’t this the sort of trinket young girls liked? What did Chu Yan take him for?

“He probably does take you for a girl,” came the White Tiger’s voice in his mind, making Xi Che’s face darken.

Still, he accepted the qilin. The tiny creature had behaved quietly in Chu Yan’s hand, but once it was passed to Xi Che, it opened its mouth and cried “mia-mia” in alarm.

The brocade qilin was a spirit beast of the Nether Realm, naturally fond of Chu Yan’s divine aura — but Xi Che was different. As an incubus, ordinary people couldn’t sense his demonic energy, but small creatures could, especially this young qilin, whose instincts made it wary of demons.

One could say its bias was written into its very genes — something that could never be changed.

Xi Che sighed helplessly and handed the trembling qilin back. “It doesn’t like me. You’d better keep it.”

Chu Yan didn’t mind. “It’s still young. If you raise it for a while, it’ll get used to your scent.”

Xi Che poked its little head with a finger, earning two more anxious cries. He felt both annoyed and amused. True, he hadn’t been a good person in life — but what did this little thing know? Did he owe it something?

Well, since it didn’t like him, he’d just have to keep it out of spite.

He tucked the qilin into his robe. “Thanks. I’ll raise it well — once it grows up, it can be my mount.”

Chu Yan looked toward the distant mountain. “Let’s keep going.”

Before Xi Che could reply, his right hand was suddenly taken — held tightly in a warm grasp. He blinked, looking at Chu Yan’s back. What was this about?

But Chu Yan’s expression remained calm, as though the gesture were perfectly natural.

Natural? Had something been silently decided between them without his knowing?

Xi Che followed in a daze until Chu Yan’s voice came softly: “Don’t zone out. The path’s dark — watch your step.”

Xi Che instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but in the end he didn’t. To do so would have been even more awkward.

Chu Yan felt that small twitch and couldn’t help the faint smile on his lips. He no longer cared about small details. Whatever their feelings really were, right now Xi Che was beside him — wasn’t that enough?

In a way, both of them had reached the same unspoken understanding about their tangled relationship —

One thought: Sweet or not, I’m taking this fruit.
The other thought: Even if it’s not sweet, at least it quenches my thirst.

And so Chu Yan led Xi Che by the hand all the way to a brightly lit place that resembled a village.

From afar, they saw a group of people gathered around a bonfire, all dressed the same as they were. The neat uniformity gave Xi Che an odd, uncomfortable feeling.

He leaned toward Chu Yan and whispered, “Look at them — all dressed in white, prancing about. They don’t look like decent folk to me.”

Chu Yan glanced down at his own robes and, imitating Xi Che’s tone, whispered back, “So you dislike white clothes? Then I won’t wear them either.”

Xi Che froze, flustered. “That—that’s different! You’re not white from head to toe. Besides… you look good in them. Why not wear it?”

“Oh? You really think I look good?”

Xi Che nodded quickly. Chu Yan seemed pleased but chuckled softly. “I was joking. No need to be so serious, Asa.”

…Damn it!

Xi Che frowned instinctively, only for Chu Yan to poke his brow with a finger.

“Don’t be angry.”

The gesture was far too intimate. Xi Che wanted to step away, but Chu Yan’s face suddenly changed — turning into the pale, expressionless mask of the man whose soul they had searched earlier. Only then did Xi Che realize that poke had been a disguise spell.

Chu Yan could change forms easily; Xi Che’s current strength didn’t allow him to. And even if it did, not everyone could master shapeshifting — it was a rare ability, possessed only by a few born with the gift, whether god or demon.

Looking at the “white-faced ghost” before him, Xi Che had to admit — he’d grown used to Chu Yan’s beauty, even numb to it at times. But seeing his face change so drastically reminded him again just how stunning he really was.

Touching his own altered face, Xi Che asked, “Do I look ugly?”

Chu Yan brushed his thumb lightly along Xi Che’s chin. “No matter what face you wear, I’ll always recognize you.”

…That sounded suspiciously like a love confession. Since when had Chu Yan learned to talk like that?

Oddly, even seeing Chu Yan in the mask of the pale ghost, Xi Che didn’t feel disgust — instead, he thought he somehow looked… dashing.

Perhaps, he mused, true charm wasn’t in looks but in one’s bearing.

As they talked, the people by the fire noticed them and began to approach.

“White-Faced Ghost, Xie Ghost — what took you so long?”

From their tone, the pair realized these people knew the identities they were impersonating. So his disguise’s name was “Xie Ghost.” And everyone here seemed to be called “something-Ghost.” Was that a title, or just a nickname?

Before Xi Che could think further, someone exclaimed, “You two are still holding hands?!”

Startled, Xi Che yanked his hand back — too late. Everyone saw it in the firelight and immediately broke into teasing laughter.

“So the two of you, always fighting like cats and dogs, came back as lovers!”

“White-Faced Ghost, weren’t you after Senior Sister Feng? Looks like your real target was your junior all along!”

The laughter made Xi Che’s skin crawl.

Strangely, no one seemed to find two men together odd. Of course, in the Nether Realm, gender meant nothing — gods had no concept of sex, and all relationships were forbidden equally. But this tribe wasn’t divine — how could they be so casual about it?

He realized their culture must be the opposite of the pure, restrained heavens — utterly chaotic, driven by base desire. To them, relationships weren’t about love, but about instinct.

Chu Yan remained impassive as the teasing went on, but Xi Che barely had time to react before a woman burst through the crowd toward them.

She was a graceful figure, not particularly beautiful but striking in posture. She glared at Chu Yan, then suddenly raised her hand to slap Xi Che — only for Chu Yan to catch her wrist midair. His face was calm, almost blank, as though he didn’t understand why she’d struck.

Xi Che twitched his lips — this must be “Senior Sister Feng.” He could sympathize. Who wouldn’t snap if their two suitors suddenly came back hand-in-hand?

Trying to defuse things, Xi Che said quickly, “Senior Sister Feng, don’t misunderstand, I and the White-Faced Ghost are actually—”

“Shut up!” she snapped, jerking her arm free. She glared at Chu Yan. “I was tired of you anyway! You two can have each other!”

With that, she spun away, joining a man in the crowd.

The others only laughed again, clearly entertained. This tribe seemed used to such dramas — they joked, then went back to sitting around the fire, chatting idly in pairs or small groups.

Xi Che pulled Chu Yan to a quieter spot, sitting down like the others. Once he was sure no one was watching, he whispered, “When you searched that man’s soul, did you find anything about this gathering?”

Soul-searching wasn’t precise; one often absorbed countless stray memories, flooding the mind with someone else’s life. It could easily injure the caster.

Chu Yan thought for a moment. “They’re waiting for this month’s food distribution. The one in charge — they call him the Young Sect Master.”

“What? Food distribution?”

That sounded like something from a primitive age.

“Don’t tell me everyone here relies on this ‘Young Sect Master’ to feed them?”

They all looked strong — surely they could fend for themselves.

Chu Yan’s face darkened. “I hadn’t seen this recorded in any divine texts. But from that man’s memory — before their exile, the Gou Tu clan’s lands had already stopped producing crops. Many people fled, leaving only those who depended on trade for food. After being banished here, even trade became impossible. The only one who could reach the outside world was their Young Sect Master.”

Xi Che frowned. “So if we want to leave this place, finding him is our best chance?”

Chu Yan nodded.

“But why did their land stop growing food in the first place? How did they survive for so many years…”

A society couldn’t live on trade alone — it was too unstable. If they were truly trapped here, the only way to survive would be through… each other.

No wonder they’d felt those hungry stares along the road. Perhaps those hiding in the shadows weren’t predators of beasts — but of men.

Chu Yan’s expression grew grim. “The true cause is uncertain. The memories I saw were based on legend. Long ago, the Gou Tu clan was just like humans — until one day, a kind of tree called black beech began to grow. These trees had no leaves, only branches. Wherever they grew, the land for miles around turned barren.”

Xi Che was startled. “If nothing could grow, how did they trade for food?”

“They worship a god called Chunmang,” Chu Yan said. “Every spring, the god descends, and the black beeches vanish. In their place, green trees appear, bearing red gems like diamonds. The clan trades those red stones with outsiders for grain.”

The more Xi Che heard, the stranger it sounded. Trees that bore red diamonds? There was something deeply wrong about it.

“And this god they worship — have they ever seen it?”

Chu Yan shook his head. “Not just a concept. The Chunmang god appears before them each year — a delicate-looking youth, by all accounts. But in recent years, though the trees still bear the red gems, the youth himself rarely appears.”

“I see…” Xi Che murmured.

Sensing his quiet melancholy, Chu Yan reached out and squeezed his hand. Xi Che sighed. “I don’t know why, but that story makes me uneasy — like there’s some secret hidden in it.”

Chu Yan didn’t answer; he felt the same.

Just then, a commotion rose nearby. They looked toward it and saw a young man in white robes walking out, surrounded by followers. With a wave of his hand, carts of grain were rolled forward and distributed among the crowd.

Though called a man, he looked barely past boyhood — tall, graceful, his lips crimson against his pale face, almost too vivid. Not the red of makeup, but a raw, unhealthy shade that made him seem eerie rather than beautiful.

The crowd chanted as one: “Long live the Young Sect Master!”

In their eyes, his authority had already surpassed that of their god.

“So that’s him,” Xi Che whispered to Chu Yan.

Before Chu Yan could reply, the Young Sect Master’s gaze suddenly turned their way. Their eyes met — and Xi Che froze.

The youth’s eyes widened; for a moment, he looked ready to rush over. But he restrained himself, raised a hand, and pointed straight at Xi Che.

“You — come here!”