Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 55

When Xi Che called out the name Jin Lingzi, some scenes automatically surfaced in his mind. Jin Lingzi was the disciple he had taken in when he first arrived in the demon realm. To be fair, he had quite liked this disciple. Jin Lingzi had a pitiful background, but he was strong-willed and had a good temperament, so Xi Che had taught him some spells.

At first, he had simply been soft-hearted — he pitied a half-human, half-demon child living alone among demons, worried he’d be bullied, and wanted to teach him a few defensive tricks. But Jin Lingzi turned out to be both smart and talented. The more Xi Che taught, the more he learned, and eventually, Jin Lingzi had nearly mastered all of his teacher’s abilities.

By the time Xi Che realized it, he hesitated for a long time between abolishing Jin Lingzi’s powers and letting him continue learning. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He consoled himself that although Jin Lingzi had indeed killed his demon father — something seen as utterly unfilial in the mortal world — from Xi Che’s modern perspective, it could be considered self-defense rather than cruelty. Besides, Jin Lingzi had always seemed kind-hearted; surely, things wouldn’t go wrong.

But who could’ve guessed — that single moment of softness back then had turned into a grave mistake. Was Jin Lingzi really the one behind all these events? What was he trying to do?

Everyone knew who ruled the Free Mountain (Xiaoyao Mountain) meaning the place belonged to Jin Lingzi. The underground palace’s formations, the demons from Xiaoyao Mountain capturing humans — these illegal deeds must all be connected to him.

The more Xi Che thought, the angrier he became. Seeing that Jin Lingzi still faced away and said nothing, he couldn’t hold back a furious shout:

“Jin Lingzi! You don’t plan to recognize your master anymore?! Get over here!”

Even now, Xi Che couldn’t help putting on the tone of a master before Jin Lingzi, subconsciously calling him by that old familiar name. After all, they had once been close. Though Jin Lingzi looked rebellious, he had always respected his teacher deeply. He was a very awkward child — full of resentment toward his own father but deeply attached to Xi Che.

People said, “Once a teacher, a lifelong father.” Xi Che knew that, to some extent, Jin Lingzi had seen him as a father figure.

Sure enough, when Xi Che shouted, Jin Lingzi finally turned around — but the movement was stiff and mechanical, a rigid 180-degree rotation in place.

Xi Che froze. Looking carefully, he saw Jin Lingzi sitting in a wooden wheelchair. From behind him stepped another person — Meng Xinghe.

Xi Che frowned.

“You?”

His second reaction was to look at Jin Lingzi — and his heart dropped. Though Jin Lingzi looked the same as ever, his face was pale and blue-tinged, his eyes tightly shut — clearly, he was no longer alive!

Xi Che’s anger surged as he glared at Meng Xinghe, just about to demand if he was responsible for Jin Lingzi’s death — but to his shock, Meng Xinghe suddenly stepped forward and knelt hard before him with a loud thud, bowing his head to the ground.

Xi Che was startled.

“You— what are you doing?”

Tears suddenly streamed down Meng Xinghe’s face.

“Please, Master-Grandfather, save him.”

Xi Che blinked in confusion.

“Who’s your Master-Grandfather?”

Meng Xinghe replied,

“Since you still recognize Jin Lingzi as your disciple, then you are my Master-Grandfather.”

Then, standing up, he introduced himself properly:

“My name is Meng Xinghe, Jin Lingzi’s only disciple.”

Xi Che finally understood — in the centuries since his own death, Jin Lingzi had taken on a student. By seniority, Meng Xinghe did indeed have to call him Master-Grandfather.

But Xi Che frowned. Back then, he had clearly warned Jin Lingzi never to pass down the spells he had been taught, and never to tell others who his master was. Why had the boy broken his promise?

Everything had happened too suddenly for him to sort through, but Meng Xinghe had already walked over and started untying the ropes that bound him.

“At first, I didn’t know if you would still acknowledge us, so I had to restrain you. I meant no harm… I only wanted to save someone. Please forgive me.”

Meng Xinghe’s attitude had completely changed — the once-confident, composed young man now looked nervous and deferential, almost like a child.

Xi Che, who always had a soft heart, found much of his anger fading.

Though he claimed to have cut ties with his past life, the truth was, he never could. Whether it was people or events — he couldn’t let go, not even of Chu Yan. No matter how many times he might be reborn, he would always be this kind of person — unable to stay detached.

So now, faced with someone sincerely calling him Master-Grandfather, Xi Che instinctively stepped into that role again. If he could figure out what was going on, he was even willing to help.

“Master-Grandfather, this place isn’t suitable. Let’s go somewhere else to talk.”

Meng Xinghe pushed the wheelchair carrying Jin Lingzi and led Xi Che out — he had been locked in a basement.

They came to an office-like room. Xi Che looked at Jin Lingzi’s body and asked,

“What’s going on here? Are you asking me to save his life?”

At that, Meng Xinghe’s eyes filled with tears again. He wiped them away with his sleeve.

“Yes. I’ve guarded Master for so many years, trying to find a way to bring him back. But I don’t have the ability… I couldn’t save him. If you, Master-Grandfather, were to act, it would surely succeed.”

Xi Che felt a pang of sympathy. Though he could already sense Meng Xinghe might have done questionable things, his devotion to his teacher was genuine.

Jin Lingzi’s corpse, though long dead, was perfectly preserved. His hair was neatly combed, his robes immaculate, adorned with the same jade ornaments as when he was alive — clearly, Meng Xinghe had cared for him all this time.

Even so, Xi Che had to tell the truth.

“I’m afraid your wish is in vain. He is dead. I don’t know how you’ve kept his body intact, but I can’t feel a trace of soul within him.”

It was nothing but an empty shell.

“Bury him properly,” Xi Che said softly. “Dust to dust, earth to earth.”

“No!” Meng Xinghe suddenly shouted.

Realizing he’d lost control, he quickly reined in his expression and said,

“Please, Master-Grandfather, don’t tell me that. If you were in my position, you wouldn’t give up either. Master is the most important person in my life — I must save him… Master-Grandfather, you can do it, can’t you? You’ve come back to life yourself.”

Xi Che opened his mouth but could only sigh. Meng Xinghe was right — he had no right to tell him to give up.

But the truth was, Xi Che didn’t even understand how he had come back to life. How could he possibly bring someone else back?

There was no such thing as true resurrection — not even gods could do that. He had said that once to Jin Lingzi; now, he could only say the same to Meng Xinghe.

Still, seeing how distraught the young man was, Xi Che didn’t want to provoke him further.

“How did he die? Jin Lingzi’s life shouldn’t have been so short.”

Meng Xinghe gritted his teeth.

“Master was murdered.”

He explained in detail. Because Jin Lingzi’s half-human, half-demon heritage made him unwelcome in all three realms, he had built his own stronghold — Xiaoyao Mountain. With his exceptional leadership, it had grown into a full-fledged power. But as he rose, others grew envious and wanted his territory.

One of his generals, He Feilong, led the Blackwater Battalion — fierce, loyal soldiers who fought for Xiaoyao Mountain’s peace. But over time, He Feilong’s fame eclipsed Jin Lingzi’s. The people of Xiaoyao Mountain respected He Feilong more than their lord.

Ambition took root.

During a campaign against Qiu Village, He Feilong betrayed them, taking his army to defect — and Jin Lingzi was killed in the chaos.

Meng Xinghe’s voice shook with hatred:

“Master gave He Feilong everything. It was he who turned against the Master. I warned him to be careful, but he trusted too easily…”

Xi Che frowned.

“What happened to this He Feilong?”

“He pretended to defect to Qiu Village, but actually meant to seize it for himself. Instead, he was beheaded by their savage warriors — poetic justice.”

Meng Xinghe gently placed a hand on Jin Lingzi’s shoulder and lowered his gaze.

“I just want to bring Master back. He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Xi Che shook his head slightly.

“But it’s been so long… Did you ever try summoning his soul?”

Meng Xinghe blinked in confusion.

“No… I don’t know how to summon souls.”

Didn’t know how to summon a soul — yet he knew how to build arrays using living people’s souls? What had Jin Lingzi been teaching this one?

Xi Che wasn’t fond of this sudden grand-disciple, nor of Jin Lingzi passing down his techniques so carelessly. He gave Meng Xinghe a look and said,

“Leave me alone with him for a while. I’ll see if I can find his soul.”

He didn’t expect much — after centuries, the remnants of Jin Lingzi’s spirit were surely gone.

Xi Che had been a God of War, his divine essence strong enough to survive the wear of time — but Jin Lingzi was half-human, half-demon. His soul couldn’t have endured the same.

Still, Meng Xinghe was thrilled by the offer.

To him, Xi Che — the War God Asas — was someone capable of anything. Bowing deeply, he said,

“Then I’ll take my leave. Thank you, Master-Grandfather.”

When Meng Xinghe left, Xi Che stood before Jin Lingzi’s body for a long moment. Then he raised his hand, tracing a sigil in the air. It was a soul-summoning formation, a mix of Summon and Search Soul — a way to amplify the effect.

But as the glowing net of runes settled over Jin Lingzi’s head, it suddenly repelled the spell with a burst of force.

Xi Che staggered back several steps.

Why?

Had Jin Lingzi placed a spell on himself before death — to reject soul summoning?

Xi Che frowned deeply, staring hard at the body. Then he pressed his finger to Jin Lingzi’s forehead.

“Jin Lingzi… do you have something to say to your master? If so, then hand over the Zhu You to me.”