Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 56

The Art of Blessing and Healing (Zhu You) was a type of spell designed to protect the soul of the dead.

Because Xi Che had once created spells like Soul Capture and Soul Search, he also devised a counterspell — something that could shield a soul from being taken by force. That was the Zhu You Technique.

When cast, it formed a barrier that locked the soul of the deceased inside a small space. The resulting crystalline core — a “micro-crystal” — could remain within the corpse indefinitely. Only someone who knew how to undo the spell could release the soul. Xi Che gave this crystal a name: the Zhu You Worm.

But the conditions to activate Zhu You were extremely strict. Once used, the soul would be compressed to the extreme — almost equivalent to a self-sacrifice. Therefore, this spell was meant to be used only as a last resort.

When Xi Che had first taught this technique to Jin Lingzi, he had never hoped that the boy would one day need to use it — and yet, Jin Lingzi had ultimately used it on himself.

Why? Whom was he so afraid of — who could have tried to capture his soul?

Meng Xinghe was his disciple, and even he didn’t know Soul Capture. So who else could he have been guarding against?

The more Xi Che thought about it, the more suspicious everything seemed. The only way to uncover the truth now was to unlock the Zhu You Worm and directly touch Jin Lingzi’s soul. The spell didn’t feel like it had been cast to guard against him — rather, it was as if Jin Lingzi had left it there deliberately, waiting for someone who could break it — perhaps even waiting for Xi Che himself.

But aside from him, who else in this world could use Zhu You?

Xi Che sighed softly and pressed his fingertip against Jin Lingzi’s forehead.

“It seems our bond as master and disciple isn’t over yet. Let me fulfill your final wish.”

He believed that within the Zhu You Worm, the soul fragment locked away must contain Jin Lingzi’s most important memory.

However, there was one thing Xi Che hadn’t considered — his power was now far weaker than before. Normally, upon releasing a Zhu You Worm, one could directly read the deceased’s memories. But this time, the moment he unlocked it, his vision blurred — it felt as if his consciousness had been sucked out of his head, and the next instant, his entire being was pulled into Jin Lingzi’s body.

To be precise — he wasn’t in Jin Lingzi’s body, but inside the space of the Worm itself.

Xi Che’s current power wasn’t enough to open that space completely, so the Worm, sensing a dispelling spell, reacted on its own and dragged him inside instead.

He found himself standing in utter darkness — and beside him, a white tiger spirit was stamping its paws angrily, shouting:

“You idiot pighead! Who do you think you are — still the War God?! Overestimating yourself! Using something like Zhu You in your current state — are you trying to die?!”

The white tiger had been trapped within Xi Che’s consciousness, unable to manifest physically. Now, because Xi Che’s spirit had been pulled into the Zhu You space and freed from his mortal body, the tiger could appear again.

“Oh, stop it already,” Xi Che groaned. “It’s done — yelling won’t change anything. I just… forgot, alright?”

“Forgot?! You’ve gotten too cocky lately! Playing assassin one moment, tampering with Zhu You the next — do you even care about staying alive?! Your body is basically in a near-death state right now! If anyone attacks you, you won’t even have the strength to fight back!”

Xi Che frowned.

“Then let’s finish this quickly. No matter what, Jin Lingzi and I were once master and disciple — I can’t just turn my back on him.”

With that, he walked toward a black door that appeared before him. Once he stepped through, he would be able to directly access Jin Lingzi’s memories. It wasn’t the same as simply reading them — this time, he would have to experience them personally.

The moment Xi Che opened the door, his perspective shifted from third-person to first-person. When he opened his eyes again, he found a frail, raggedly dressed boy kneeling at his feet — and in his hand, a sword — while a group of pale-clad, grotesque-looking people charged toward him.

Xi Che recognized them immediately — the Gou Tu Clan — the same monsters he had once fought before.

Instinctively, he swung the sword to block their attack, and to his surprise, the sword’s force cut several of them down instantly.

He froze. Was that blow really so strong?

Then realization hit him — these weren’t his own actions. He wasn’t controlling this body. He was merely a consciousness — a spectator inside the Worm — and everything before him was just Jin Lingzi’s memory.

Understanding that, he focused on observing quietly.

After cutting down the attackers, Jin Lingzi lifted the unconscious boy at his feet — the boy was so thin, it was like holding a bundle of bones. Though Xi Che couldn’t move, he could feel everything Jin Lingzi felt — the sensation was strange and intimate.

The boy stirred, opening his eyes to look at Jin Lingzi — and Xi Che immediately recognized him.

It was Meng Xinghe.

Xi Che was taken aback. The boy was still in his early teens, thin as a reed, his skin pale like he hadn’t eaten properly in days — yet his face, though sickly, was strikingly handsome. Even with dirt and bruises, his sharp eyes gleamed with a fierce, dangerous light — a beauty edged with malice.

Jin Lingzi had saved Meng Xinghe from those white-clad monsters and brought him back to Xiaoyao Mountain.

Jin Lingzi, who had once been an abandoned child saved by Xi Che, had grown into a protector himself. After establishing Xiaoyao Mountain, he sent people to find orphans and outcasts, taking them in, teaching them martial arts and magic so they could defend themselves.

In this, at least, Xi Che was pleased — Jin Lingzi had become what he once aspired to be.

But the man was still terrible at talking.

He dressed Meng Xinghe’s wounds and asked stiffly,

“Why were they chasing you?”

Meng Xinghe’s voice trembled pitifully.

“They want to take me back… to make me a medicine man.”

“A medicine man?”

“I escaped from an old poison doctor,” the boy explained. “He kidnaps people and uses them to test his poisons — we’re his living experiments. So many have been tortured to death. I managed to escape, but if you send me back, I’ll die for sure.”

Jin Lingzi frowned and said,

“Give me your hand.”

He placed his fingers on the boy’s wrist to check his pulse, then relaxed.

“You haven’t been a medicine man for long.”

Meng Xinghe scowled.

“Not long? Every day felt like a year.”

Jin Lingzi ignored the sarcasm and said,

“If you weren’t there long, why send so many people to chase you? A lost test subject isn’t worth that much trouble. You must have taken something from him.”

Meng Xinghe’s hand instinctively went to his chest. Jin Lingzi caught the motion and smiled faintly.

“What are you hiding?”

Meng Xinghe’s expression changed — he dropped the pitiful act and snapped,

“Give it back!”

“Oh? This?”

Jin Lingzi pulled out a yellowed old book he’d found when changing the boy’s clothes. On its cover were four words: The Sacred Poison Canon.

He waved it in front of Meng Xinghe.

“Even I can tell this book combines toxicology and sorcery — it’s rare and complex. There’s no way someone your age wrote it.”

Meng Xinghe bit his lip, glaring hatefully but saying nothing.

Jin Lingzi smiled faintly.

“He was wrong to experiment on you — but you were wrong to steal from him.”

“Steal?” Meng Xinghe spat. “You don’t know anything! I didn’t just steal from him — I burned his whole workshop! That’s just interest! After what he did to me, I’ll flay him alive one day — piece by piece — until my hatred’s gone!”

Jin Lingzi’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Such malice at your age… you’ll bring disaster if this continues.”

Xi Che suddenly understood. The white-haired old man he’d met in the Gou Tu dungeon must have been this “old poison doctor.” No wonder the man had tried to make Xi Che capture Meng Xinghe for him — he must have wanted revenge.

Meng Xinghe lunged suddenly, trying to snatch back the book. Jin Lingzi easily evaded and tapped a finger to his neck, freezing the boy in place.

“You’d better kill me!” Meng Xinghe hissed. “Otherwise I’ll kill you someday!”

Jin Lingzi rapped him on the head with the book.

“When you have the strength to kill me, then you can talk big.”

He didn’t mean him any harm — after all, the boy was a victim too. He tucked the book back into Meng Xinghe’s clothes and laid him down.

“Your body’s still weak. Rest here.”

As he turned to leave, Meng Xinghe shouted from the bed,

“You bastard! Come back here! I’ll kill you!”

Xi Che could only shake his head internally. And somehow these two ended up as master and disciple?

Jin Lingzi was stubborn — he wanted to help but had no patience. He actually froze Meng Xinghe in place for days until the boy finally learned to speak civilly.

Eventually, Meng Xinghe relented. He was clever — once he realized Jin Lingzi wasn’t going to hurt him and had been feeding and sheltering him, his hostility faded.

Over time, Jin Lingzi discovered that Meng Xinghe was exceptionally gifted — especially in magic. He learned astonishingly fast. One day, Jin Lingzi caught him burning The Sacred Poison Canon and asked,

“Why are you burning it?”

Meng Xinghe smiled as the book turned to ashes.

“Because I’ve memorized it all. Now that it’s gone, no one else can ever learn the spells in it.”

Jin Lingzi was impressed — such intelligence and foresight in one so young — though his methods were extreme.

Xi Che thought to himself, So that’s why Jin Lingzi taught him everything — he saw talent, and couldn’t help passing it on.

But up to this point, Jin Lingzi had only taught him basic spells.

As Meng Xinghe grew older, he became Jin Lingzi’s right hand. Jin Lingzi became known as Lord Jin Ling, and Meng Xinghe as his Left Guardian.

He had matured, grown capable, shed his youthful anger — or so Jin Lingzi believed. Perhaps he saw his own younger self reflected in him.

But Xi Che knew they were not the same. Jin Lingzi had killed his father but remained kind and filial to his mother; his heart was pure. Meng Xinghe… was not.

That suspicion was soon proven true.

On one mission, Jin Lingzi sent Meng Xinghe and another disciple out, instructing them:

“If you meet any lost children along the way, bring them back. There aren’t many orphans left these days — not since the wars ended.”

Indeed, since Meng Xinghe’s arrival, no new children had been brought back to Xiaoyao Mountain.

On their return journey, they met a thin, ragged boy. The other disciple wanted to approach and ask if he needed help, but Meng Xinghe stopped him.

“Wait, let me handle it. There’s an inn ahead — buy some food for the road.”

The disciple left. Meng Xinghe walked up to the child, smiling kindly as he handed him a piece of bread.

“Hungry? Here, eat.”

The boy devoured it hungrily.

Meng Xinghe’s smile didn’t fade — but his voice turned cold as ice.

“Someone like you… doesn’t deserve to stand beside him.”

The child blinked in confusion — and the next instant, coughed up black blood and collapsed, dead.

Meng Xinghe flicked his sleeve, and a black flame consumed the body, leaving no trace.

When the other disciple returned with food, Meng Xinghe said lightly,

“That child had parents after all. I sent him home.”

Xi Che watched it all unfold, trembling with rage.

“That bastard! How could he kill an innocent child so casually?! What does he mean, ‘not worthy to stand beside him’? Who—”

He stopped short.
Could “him” mean… Jin Lingzi?

“That monster! If he didn’t want the boy brought to Xiaoyao Mountain, he could’ve just said so — why kill him?!”

The white tiger, silent until now, finally spoke.

“If he refused openly, Jin Lingzi would’ve noticed.”

Xi Che turned and glared. The tiger calmly licked its paw.

“Getting angry now won’t change anything. What you’re seeing already happened — it can’t be undone.”

Xi Che clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. But a dark certainty settled over him —

Jin Lingzi hadn’t just died.

He had been murdered.

And his killer was very likely  Meng Xinghe.