Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 45

Meng Xinghe arranged for Xi Che and the other new recruits to stay at Xiaoyao Mountain — a sect so simple that it didn’t even have an official name, just “Xiaoyao Mountain.” Their lodgings resembled dormitories once distributed by old government work units: two people to a room, one room connected to another, all neat and plain, like model housing units.

Just from the living quarters alone, one might think Xiaoyao Mountain was quite a decent, well-organized sect.

That night, when everyone had gone to sleep, Xi Che couldn’t hold it in any longer. He called out softly to Chu Yan, who was lying on the other bed in the same room:
“You said we’d find out tonight what’s going on. So? Can you tell me now?”

Chu Yan glanced out the window at the sky and said, “It’s about time. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

The place Chu Yan led him to was the same location where they had met Meng Xinghe before. On the way, he explained that he suspected the source of the illusions they had encountered in the cave — the array eye — might be somewhere near that spot.

Xi Che asked casually, “Why do you think that?”

Chu Yan was silent for a moment before replying, “It’s just my intuition. Trust me.”

Once there, Chu Yan immediately sensed a faint, strange energy in the area. That energy seemed to suppress his divine powers ever so slightly — which made him suspect that the array eye truly was here. He had never before seen anything capable of suppressing a god’s power like this, except for what they’d experienced in the cave. Still, he couldn’t reveal too much to Xi Che; explaining it would risk exposing his true identity.

If it had been something else, Xi Che might have doubted him. But since this involved two artifacts that originally belonged to him, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility outright. Besides, this “Chu Qi” usually spoke little and wasn’t good at explaining himself — there was no harm in humoring him and taking a look.

So the two of them slipped out under the cover of night, returning to the grand hall where the demons had gathered earlier that day. Now it stood completely empty, and they entered without meeting any resistance. But Chu Yan couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the energy; he could only sense its general direction. He suggested they check inside the hall.

“Wait.”

Xi Che reached out to stop him. “Don’t rush in.”

He stood at the doorway, staring into the empty hall. The single tall chair placed at the center looked especially lonely. Xi Che watched in silence for a long time before chuckling softly to himself. “Clever. Really clever.”

Chu Yan knew he had noticed something. “What is it?”

Xi Che said, “Look carefully at the floor tiles.”

Chu Yan followed his gaze and then noticed something odd — the tiles weren’t all the same color. Normally, a palace floor would use identical tiles, or at least patterned ones arranged symmetrically. But here, the colors seemed random, irregular, with no discernible pattern. The tiles were small, unevenly shaped, and came in dull shades of blue, red, and white — a strange and inefficient design. Under the dim lighting, the differences were subtle, easy to miss at a glance.

It was clearly not for decoration.

Chu Yan was still studying the tiles when his vision suddenly went dark — Xi Che’s hand had covered his eyes.

Chu Yan turned his head slightly in surprise, his eyelashes brushing against his palm. He heard Xi Che say, “Don’t stare too long. You’re getting dizzy, aren’t you?”

“…”

His hand was cool to the touch. The light tickle of Chu Yan’s lashes against his skin made his heart stir unexpectedly.

…Asa, seriously — why are you just randomly covering another man’s eyes like that?

It left him conflicted. As “Chu Qi,” such a gesture wasn’t strange — they’d already shared a few intimate moments. But thinking about how Asa had also been with “Chu Yan” made it oddly uncomfortable.

Before he could process his own feelings, Xi Che withdrew his hand. He hadn’t meant to keep it there long anyway — just enough to stop Chu Yan from staring.

Xi Che continued calmly, “The tiles are arranged according to an array pattern. The different colors form a formation. Most people wouldn’t notice anything wrong, but the moment you step in, you’re caught. No wonder there’s no guard here — the person who set this up was confident no one would see through it.”

Chu Yan focused again on the floor. He knew Asa loved studying things far beyond the scope of their formal training. “So there’s a formation here too? I didn’t sense anything during the day.”

“Neither did I at first,” Xi Che said. “But think about it — when we came here earlier, we were being led the whole time by those people in black robes. They guided us along a safe route that avoided the traps. But if someone sneaks in, walking aimlessly, they’d trigger the formation easily.”

He pointed along the wall. “See the tiles near the corners? The color patterns are most chaotic there — that’s where the formation is most complex. Makes sense, right? Anyone sneaking in would instinctively stick close to the wall.”

Chu Yan nodded. “The hall’s empty except for that single chair. Setting such a complicated array just to guard it… seems like it’s protecting something.”

Xi Che smiled. “Maybe it’s protecting that chair itself.”

“Really?”

Chu Yan didn’t sound convinced, but the confident smile on Xi Che’s face told him all he needed to know. When Asa smiled like that, it meant he was certain.

“Let’s take a closer look,” Xi Che said.

Chu Yan humored him. “And do you know how we’re supposed to get there?”

Xi Che hesitated briefly — remembering he was supposed to be hiding his identity — and replied, “I just happen to know.”

Chu Yan let it go. Whatever makes you happy.

So he followed close behind, stepping exactly where Xi Che stepped. As they advanced, Xi Che grew more certain that whoever designed this formation had a deep connection to him — the array bore his own signature techniques.

…Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out anymore. What if, in the end, he confirmed the worst — that he really was the kind of demonic monster whose influence lingered centuries after death? The thought alone filled him with guilt.

He pouted slightly — out of Chu Yan’s view — feeling unfairly accused by fate. I just liked inventing these things, he thought. I never used them to hurt anyone, nor told others to. Why am I always the villain?

But soon he refocused, crouching by the chair and studying it carefully. To his surprise, several defensive formations surrounded it — three, maybe four. Triggering any one of them could trap them there forever. Whoever built this was meticulous — terrifyingly so. Jin Lingzi, in Xi Che’s memory, had never been such a cautious person. Could it be that this hall wasn’t his doing at all?

As questions crowded his mind, his hands worked instinctively, tracing patterns on the chair’s surface. Each layer of traps only stoked his competitive streak further. Whoever set this up seemed to be showing off — as if challenging the original creator of these techniques.

Childish. But… kind of cute.

To feel that someone, through time itself, was trying to challenge him — it almost made him smile. The maker of this formation had real skill.

After a while, his fingers brushed over a small raised mark hidden within a carved pattern on the chair’s leg. He arched a brow — Found it.

He pressed down sharply. A mechanical click-clack sounded deep within the chair, and the entire seat began to tremble, shaking the floor beneath them. Chu Yan instinctively grabbed Xi Che and pulled him back just as the chair flipped over, and the tiles around it began to sink.

Despite the shaking, the chamber itself remained oddly stable.

It felt — unmistakably — like a door was opening.

Even Xi Che couldn’t help admiring the craftsmanship.

Chu Yan now understood why someone would go to such lengths to protect this chair: it was a switch. Whatever lay below must be even more precious.

Could the array eye be down there?

He couldn’t say for sure — even now, the energy was beyond his perception.

The descent took a long time. Finally, when the mechanism stopped moving, Xi Che looked up — what had been the floor above was now the ceiling. Beneath them stretched a vast underground chamber.

“‘Underground palace’” was the only word that fit. The ceiling soared ten meters high — far too large for a mere basement.

“Can you sense the array eye now?” Xi Che asked.

Chu Yan didn’t answer. He was staring upward. Xi Che followed his gaze — and then realized he didn’t need to ask.

There, suspended in midair, floated two very familiar artifacts.

The Da Chi and the Zhu You (the talismans).

Both of them.

Xi Che’s eyes widened. They’re here. They’re both here!

He started forward instinctively — but his feet felt impossibly heavy, as though weighted with lead. A powerful repulsive force stopped him in his tracks, like opposing magnetic poles.

He could sense it — the two artifacts were locked in a massive formation, one far beyond what his current power could withstand.

He turned to Chu Yan, startled. Could it be… the power pushing back isn’t from the artifacts, but from him?

Chu Yan, too, recognized the two floating relics — but what really caught his attention was the enormous array they formed.

He could hardly believe his eyes.

“Xi Che,” he said quietly, “do you recognize this formation?”

Xi Che focused, his brows furrowing. “It’s… a Gathering of Shadows Formation.”

Chu Yan nodded grimly, but his gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling. “Then look closer — what’s that up there?”

From the twin artifacts radiated countless chains of light, stretching upward into the darkness, pulled taut — and then bending back, converging toward a single point. The pattern formed two opposing cones, their tips meeting — and at the very top, something was bound between them.

From where they stood, they couldn’t make out what it was.

A bad feeling rose in Xi Che’s chest — just as Chu Yan suddenly grabbed his shoulder, voice urgent: “Come on! Let’s take a closer look!”

Though the array resisted him, Chu Yan had enough strength to force his way forward, dragging Xi Che into the very center of the formation. They looked up together — and finally saw what was hanging there.

It wasn’t a thing.

It was a person.

A red-clad youth, long hair cascading down, eyes closed as if in deep sleep. His arms were bound tight by chains, stretched to their limits, as though any slack would let him burst free. His legs hung limp, and on each ankle was a string of tongueless golden bells.

He looked dead — yet his face was flushed, almost alive, as if he might open his eyes at any moment and smile that radiant, confident smile.

Xi Che froze, utterly speechless. Because that youth — that face — was unmistakably his own.

No, not his current self.

It was Asa — the real Asa, as he had been in life.

What the—?! I’m already dead, and someone’s gone and hung me up here like a slab of dried meat?!