Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 44

Yes — that wasn’t Xi Che’s inner demon. He didn’t regret saving Pu; his conscience was clear, so where would a heart demon come from?

It was Chu Yan’s heart demon instead.

When Chu Yan was born, he was formed from a pure jade soul — the hardest and most flawless of all. But whether by misfortune or fate, as he separated from the jade, he was tainted by a faint trace of mortal aura. From that moment, his soul was no longer perfectly pure.

After being brought back to Jingyu, Chu Yan became a disciple under the God of light. He was extraordinarily intelligent, calm and dignified, with remarkable insight. To the God of light, he seemed like the perfect successor — flawless in every way.

Until, by chance, the God of light discovered that Chu Yan wasn’t as immaculate as he appeared — that faint trace of human aura was like a crack in a crystal, an imperfection on a flawless gem, irritating to look at.

So, he decided to help Chu Yan “purify” that flaw.

Chu Yan, believing his master only meant well, obeyed without question. But they soon discovered the flaw couldn’t be erased. To prevent it from tarnishing Chu Yan’s divine status, the previous God of light had no choice but to seal it away.

It happened when Chu Yan was still very young. The moment that flawed part of his jade soul was stripped away, what remained became cold, emotionless — closer to godhood, perhaps, but further from being human. No one realized that the sealed “flaw” hadn’t perished; it continued to exist, exiled to a small world, left to live and die alone.

Loneliness, abandonment, and resentment slowly built up within that fragment of his soul until it turned into a being made entirely of wrath and corruption — a demon.

Chu Yan had always been aware of that “flaw’s” existence. He could feel its anger growing stronger and stronger. But he kept suppressing his emotions, refusing to seek it out, believing that his master was right — that only by rejecting impurity could he truly be divine.

And yet, the memory tormented him for years.

Until the day Xi Che took his graduation trial and accidentally entered the sealed world of that “flaw.” Not only did Xi Che spare it — he even said he wanted to take it away and let it live.

That fragment of resentment vanished. It followed Xi Che out of that small world and rejoined Chu Yan’s body — and along with it came a flood of emotion.

It turned out the so-called “flaw” wasn’t corruption at all. It was the heart of the jade.

Chu Yan, praised as the purest and most perfect god in all three realms — no one knew how ugly his heart truly was.

He could no longer claim that the “flaw” was just impurity; that ugly face was his own. He knew that the reason the people of the three realms worshiped him was because they revered the image of a flawless god. Even his master couldn’t accept the blemish within him.

Chu Yan could only ever be the idealized version that everyone believed him to be.

When that heart of jade — now tainted — returned to him, it carried hazy emotions he could barely comprehend.

From that moment on, he found his eyes drawn uncontrollably to Xi Che. What began as simple admiration and mutual respect gradually twisted into something else.

He couldn’t tell when it started — whether he’d been drawn to Xi Che all along, or if it was the influence of the soul fragment that Xi Che brought back.

He only knew one thing — his heart demon was growing stronger every day.

He was caught in a vicious cycle. The more he tried to suppress his emotions, the more violently they surged back. At that time, he had only just ascended as a lesser god and knew nothing about desire or love. His uncontrollable impulses frightened him.

Afraid of harming Xi Che — or committing an unforgivable act — he tried to use the heart cleansing spring to cleanse himself.

But that spring only treated the symptoms, not the cause. The heart demon sealed inside him began to roar and thrash, wanting to break free — wanting to possess the only person who had ever accepted it.

The only one who hadn’t abandoned it. The only one who had seen its ugliness — and still stayed.

Chu Yan understood that longing — childlike, foolish, and painfully sincere. It screamed inside him, but it was pointless.

Because even before that fragment had returned, he already felt the same way.

What tormented him most was that Asa (Xi Che) kept appearing before him so casually — chatting, laughing, even napping in his palace — without the slightest suspicion.

To Asa, he was the one person in the world who would never harm him. He trusted him completely.

And that made it even harder to stay in control.

Chu Yan couldn’t bear the thought of seeing disappointment in Xi Che’s eyes.

The illusion around him wasn’t particularly powerful — just an array built around the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams, with no true spellwork. What made it dangerous was the core of the formation; whatever it was, it affected him deeply.

Could it be something designed specifically to target the gods? Otherwise, how could he be affected so strongly while Xi Che was perfectly fine?

Chu Yan’s heart demon was that “flaw.” He watched it trapped in that small world, killed again and again by those who came to trial, endlessly resurrecting — he couldn’t stay detached, because he knew that “flaw” was himself. Its existence was a reminder that he wasn’t as perfect as everyone believed.

He also knew why Asa liked being friends with him. He was a true gentleman — righteous, courageous, willing to take responsibility. Though others called him reckless and even blamed him for the war between gods and demons, Chu Yan thought him more honest than anyone.

That war had been brewing for ages; the tension between the two races was rooted in history. How could it all be Asa’s fault?

And faced with such a person, Chu Yan could only hide his own shame — lest Asa come to despise him.

In the illusion, he saw countless gods raising weapons against him — former comrades, even his own master — all seeking to destroy him. He finally raised his sword to fight back, only for their faces to turn into Asa’s.

Asa opened his arms, wanting to embrace him.

…

The illusion left Chu Yan shaken. The shadow that had taken Xi Che’s form was the same shapeshifting monster Xi Che had encountered in the cave — the one he’d hesitated to kill, nearly getting himself hurt in the process.

“You okay? Hey — what are you staring at?”

Xi Che’s voice pulled Chu Yan back to reality. He blinked and saw Xi Che looking at him with concern. “Weird,” Xi Che muttered. “Your cultivation’s way higher than mine — how come you got caught by the illusion and I didn’t?”

Chu Yan only shook his head, expression blank, and said, “This must be an Eight Trigram array’s radiation zone. It’s created multiple small illusions. For it to be this strong, the core object must be extraordinary.”

Xi Che’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately thought of his two troublesome artifacts. If the core of this formation was made from Da Chi or Zhu You( talismans), then that would explain everything — and if that were true, then no one, not even he, could stop it. Those artifacts grew stronger the greater the power they faced — the purer the bloodline, the more overwhelming their force.

That must be why Chu Qi was affected more severely, because his divine power was too strong.

It was a terrifying ability — invincible in its way. The weak couldn’t harm them, and the strong couldn’t suppress them.

The two finally emerged from the cave passage. Outside, a man in black robes stepped forward and handed each of them a small token, instructing them to follow.

They exchanged glances. Xi Che guessed this probably meant they’d passed the test.

The demon guide led them into a large hall, where many other black-clad figures had already gathered, looking equally uneasy. At the top stood an empty chair — Xi Che guessed it belonged to Jin Lingzi.

“Not gonna lie,” Xi Che muttered under his breath, staring at the setup, “this looks way too much like a damn cult meeting.”

He fixed his gaze on the chair, waiting for Jin Lingzi to appear. Chu Yan frowned beside him, clearly uncomfortable. After about twenty minutes, a young man in a moon-white robe embroidered with silver bamboo stepped out from the back.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You’ve passed the entry test for Xiaoyao Mountain. From now on, you are all members of the mountain, serving under Jin Lingzi.”

His words silenced the crowd — until someone shouted, “Who are you? We came here to see the Holy Lord, not you!”

The young man laughed softly. “You’re too new to meet him. My name is Meng Xinghe. From today onward, I’ll be your direct superior.”

At that, everyone quieted down — except Xi Che, whose eyes widened in disbelief.

That face… he knew that face.

Wasn’t this the grandson that old man from the Gou Tu clan had been searching for — the one who’d poisoned him?

So this kid had become a petty leader here on Xiaoyao Mountain?

Chu Yan had noticed it too, but his brows furrowed. He whispered, “He doesn’t look… alive.”

Xi Che glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

After a pause, he said quietly, “You’re saying… he’s being controlled by Jin Lingzi? Or made into some kind of puppet?”

Chu Yan was silent for a moment. “That’s not what I meant. He just doesn’t feel alive.”

Xi Che realized he’d spoken too freely. A normal person wouldn’t jump straight to that kind of guess — perhaps it was because deep down, he already suspected Jin Lingzi was behind all of this. After all, those puppet-making techniques… were things Jin Lingzi had once learned from him.

“Xi Che. Xi Che…”

He snapped back to attention. Chu Yan was watching him. “What is it?”

Chu Yan smiled faintly. “Don’t worry. By tonight, we’ll know everything.”

“Huh?”

What did that mean?