The Demon Lord and I: Frenemies - chapter 37

Chapter 37

Yao Wensheng took the map of the island, examined it carefully, and slowly furrowed his brows. “Wandering Zero Flower is a supplementary ingredient unique to Qiandu Island, but logically, there’s no need to plant so much of it. Its function is to catalyze the spiritual energy of the main ingredient. The several types of Spiritual Herbs that are planted in large quantities on the map suddenly remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

“Li Qin.” Yao Wensheng placed the map back on the table. “Last time, the Vice Sect Leader and I used the Mirror of Retrospection Technique and saw Li Qin being killed. I mentioned it to him then. Li Qin and I had different philosophies, and later, he disappeared from the sect.”

Chu Chenyue listened quietly.

“At that time, Li Qin was developing an Elixir, intending to use medicine to enhance cultivators’ cultivation. There was nothing wrong with the idea, but there were two difficulties. First, according to his formula, it required a Spiritual Herb with the same properties as the Spirit Heart Flower, but with spiritual energy far surpassing it. We simply couldn’t find such a herb at the time. Second…” Yao Wensheng hesitated slightly, “This kind of Elixir had to be tested on cultivators, but the Lotus Flower Sect did not advocate this practice. We parted on bad terms.”

Chu Chenyue nodded in understanding. “So when he disappeared from the sect, you didn’t think much of it, assuming he had simply left the Qionglian Twelve Islands.”

“Yes. Not using people to test Elixirs is a rule we set, but outsiders don’t have such scruples.” Yao Wensheng said helplessly, “I am willing to abide by this principle myself, but I also understand the painstaking efforts of disciples in Alchemy. Which Alchemist doesn’t want to refine a peerless Elixir? How could I bear to stop him? It’s just a difference in philosophy. At the time, I thought he had left the islands, so I didn’t pursue the matter.”

“But he didn’t leave the islands. Instead, he was killed, and someone took his formula to test the medicine, using mortals from the island.” Chu Chenyue stared at the map of Qiandu Island and sighed, “Sometimes I wonder if I have changed, becoming more cautious and hesitant.”

“What do you mean, Sect Leader?”

“If it were in the past, I wouldn’t bother collecting evidence. I would have directly unleashed spells to bombard Qiandu Island-that was my way of doing things.” Chu Chenyue’s gaze was slightly cold. “Isn’t this the style of those outside the islands? Cultivators duel without needing a reason, fighting for their lives and fortunes, regardless of justice.”

“But after my father passed, I changed. We lost too much in that great war. Even though we won, it felt like a defeat…”

The Immortal-Demon War was won, but many people remained on the battlefield, never returning.

The lamp flickered, casting a dim yellow light that projected the two’s lonely shadows on the wall, long and dark.

“After Xiao’er and Shuang’er were born, my thoughts changed even more. In the past, I only wanted an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Now, I gradually wonder: is the world we carved out truly suitable for them?” Chu Chenyue said, “I have lived through the chaotic years of fratricidal strife and cannibalism, when the world had no rules or order. I don’t want them to live through the same days after the chaos that followed the shattering of the Flower Mirror.”

Therefore, the Qionglian Twelve Islands established many rules. Compared to Luoqiang Valley and Four-Symbols Jiuzhou, the Island Lords of each island jointly manage affairs, and cultivators and mortals coexist harmoniously-almost unbelievably so.

“But conquering the world is easy; keeping it is hard. Even if things are like this within the islands, the outside world remains unchanged. In a few years, the grand sect competition will be held, and outsiders will flood in. They will not be as friendly as the cultivators of the Qionglian Twelve Islands, not to mention the world-destroyer indicated by the Flower Mirror…”

Chu Chenyue said in a low voice, “After the Flower Mirror shattered, places suitable for survival have become fewer and fewer, all maintained by High-Level Cultivators with their own cultivation. Once we leave the islands, they will collapse, and the Qionglian Twelve Islands will cease to exist. If a world-destroyer really appears outside the islands, we won’t be able to get there in time and can only send disciples to suppress it.”

Yao Wensheng said, “Sect Leader, you need not worry. From what I observe, the younger generation is in no way inferior to how we were back then.”

Chu Bingxiao has already made a name for himself in the sect, his cultivation at the Four Leaves Late Stage, and several others are just as sharp.

“Sigh, but even when things are this difficult, cultivators still fight among themselves. Recently, news of Demon Cultivators has come from Four-Symbols Jiuzhou, and within the islands, Lu Hengzhou is deliberately stirring up trouble. Sometimes I wonder if the Qionglian Twelve Islands are the real outliers in the world of cultivators.”

She said softly, “I don’t want the young disciples, who are like my own children, to live hard lives, but I also fear that one day, when they leave the Qionglian Twelve Islands, they won’t be able to withstand the storms outside. How unfortunate this world is-those with pure hearts are not guaranteed to turn misfortune into blessing.”

She fears they will have too many setbacks, but also fears that if things go too smoothly, once they leave her, they won’t be able to withstand any hardship.

The silver moon shone on a cold night. The room was silent, only the candle flames flickering, unable to burn away the world’s sorrows. The night was too dark; several candlesticks could not dispel the gloom. They could only wait for the sunrise and the awakening of all things.

The two conversed for a long time and finally made a painful decision.

“If we kill Lu Hengzhou, Qiandu Island will disappear, and the island will face a shortage of Spiritual Herbs, even a scarcity of Heart-Clearing Pills.” Chu Chenyue flipped the map of the island face-down on the table. “While you are researching the medicinal dregs these days, arrange for people to stock up on medicine as soon as possible. Once the evidence is conclusive, the sect will take action.”

“Understood.”

*

On the other side, on a remote island lush with trees, two dark figures hid among them, secretly discussing matters. Both were dressed in black robes, wearing strange masks on their faces, their bodies tightly wrapped, revealing not a trace of their true appearance.
One of them, clad in a long robe and hat, was kneeling as she reported to the other. A woman’s voice came from beneath her mask: “Master, the northern village has been cleared. As long as we circle around the south and confirm there are no escapees, this matter will be settled.”

“Not bad. If I recall correctly, there is a village in the north related to you,” said the standing black-robed figure, whose voice was so strange that it was impossible to distinguish male from female.

“It’s all past history, not worth mentioning. If it weren’t for you, Master, I wouldn’t be alive today-I would have died miserably long ago.”

“How is Shi Yalie?”

“He’s becoming more uncontrollable. Last time, he fought with a Lotus Flower Sect cultivator and nearly exposed himself.”

“A Beast Cultivator is, in the end, still a beast, not a true cultivator. They are not the same as people.” The black-robed person handed over a Jade Flute. “He cannot be kept any longer. If this happens again, deal with him yourself.”

“Understood.”

The kneeling cultivator hurriedly reached out to receive the flute, keeping her head down all the while, not daring to look up-her respectful demeanor concealing her real expression behind the mask. Through a gap, she glimpsed a hand with neatly trimmed fingernails. The fingertip was faintly stained with color, and a hint of red and white peeked from within the black sleeve-too blurred to see clearly.

Though she had been mentored by this person, she had never seen their true face. She swept her eyes over quickly, afraid of being discovered.

It was the hand of an Alchemist, and the red and white beneath the black robe inexplicably reminded her of the Lotus Flower Sect that had hunted her.

The figure seemed not to notice her unease and instructed, “After you finish patrolling the south, gather at the usual place. Someone will come to receive you. If he loses control and you deal with him, come by yourself.”

“Yes.”

Moments later, the strange-voiced cultivator left, leaving only the black-robed Female Cultivator, who gripped the translucent Jade Flute tightly.

*

In the village, the houses were charred, corpses lay everywhere. The Lotus Flower Sect disciples had already searched and rescued here, but sadly no one survived-only fragments of bodies remained, burned beyond recognition.

After Chu Zaishuang and the others received their task at the sect gate, it was only upon reaching their destination that they understood what a living hell meant.

Chu Zaishuang and Su Hongli turned deathly pale, while Li Jingjie ran to the side and vomited, even his Heavenly Treasure Weasel curling up on his shoulder, unable to adapt to the scene before them.

Fei Wanghuai was the calmest. He stepped around a charred corpse and instructed the others, “Let’s get to work. First count how many charred bodies there are, then dig a patch of ground behind the village and bury them. I’ll check the east side-you each pick a direction.”

Li Jingjie clutched his bamboo canister, gulped down several mouthfuls of water to calm himself, and asked in confusion, “Wanghuai, why are you so experienced? Aren’t you afraid?”

“We are cultivators. What is there to be afraid of?” Fei Wanghuai glanced at Chu Zaishuang, then at the other two. “If you never intended to cultivate, that’s one thing. But I thought you two chose to be cultivators, so you should have been ready to face corpses.”

Su Hongli said softly, “But I actually joined to grow herbs and refine Elixirs.”

Li Jingjie added, “Besides, all the sect sparring is just friendly matches-I’ve never seen so many dead people…”

“Maybe they make new disciples do this every year so you get used to it earlier,” Fei Wanghuai lowered his eyes. “They’re already lucky, at least they can be buried with graves and tombstones. How many cultivators die violently, not even leaving a Minor Paradise behind, gone from the world without a trace.”

He himself, outside the island, had never heard of cultivators building graves for mortals. Who knew where he’d be buried if he died?

Li Jingjie replied, “…That’s true.”

Chu Zaishuang didn’t join the conversation, instead staring intently at a nearby fallen beam. Beneath the broken beam was a child about knee-high, likewise burned to a withered husk, huddled miserably next to his mother’s corpse in death. The two corpses were beyond recognition; only their shapes identified them as mother and child.

Reality was not the vague wording of a mission description. Reality was far more cruel and explicit than any rumor.

After briefly composing themselves, the four began gathering the charred bodies and searched for a place to bury them together. They chose a small village, probably due to its remote location and sparse population, so not many Lotus Flower Sect disciples were sent here. There were also many other villages nearby that had suffered tragedies, so those on this assignment were scattered.

This was truly menial work, requiring no cultivation. At first, Fei Wanghuai used the Rippling Water Technique to move the bodies, but later switched to tools like the others-much simpler and more convenient.

After digging a large pit, Chu Zaishuang swept the remaining corpses over and began counting. “It doesn’t feel like there’s enough space to bury them all here.”

“I saw a Grave Hill behind the village-it looks like the villagers used it in the past, but it’s a bit of a walk from here,” said Su Hongli. “We could bury some there too, though moving them will take effort.”

“Alright, I’ll go see how far it is.”

The other three paused to rest. Chu Zaishuang set the shovel aside and ran down the small path behind the village. Sure enough, she soon saw the Grave Hill.

At the edge of the farmland, gentle mounds rose, dotted with tombstones-some stone, some wood-all graves built by the villagers.

She was about to walk closer for a better look, when she suddenly remembered what Aunt Sun had said. She took a bottle of white liquor from her Mustard Seed Ring, and as she passed a tombstone, she casually sprinkled a few drops. She’d received this in the Mortal Dust Marsh, never had a use for it, and only recently rediscovered it while sorting her things.
In truth, she didn’t understand the reason for pouring wine at the graves, but Aunt Sun was a person with many taboos-never allowed to step on the threshold, insisted on eating auspicious foods during festivals, and demanded strict adherence to rituals during memorials. Chu Zaishuang had learned all this by osmosis. Even though everyone knew it was of little use, they would always find various ways to entrust their tangled emotions to these acts.

Chu Zaishuang made her way past the gravestones ahead and finally found a spot at the back of Grave Hill, which should still be able to accommodate quite a few charred corpses. She was about to return and inform her companions when she noticed a mound not far away, with a large tree standing tall, and a faint wooden marker beneath it.

She saw the solitary gravestone under the tree, still holding the bottle of baijiu, and complained, “Damn it.”

[What’s wrong?]

“I poured wine on all the gravestones ahead, but there’s still one left over there that I haven’t. But it’s a bit far to walk.” Chu Zaishuang clicked her tongue. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have poured any at all. It’s not about scarcity, but about unevenness-leaving one out feels awkward.”

[It’s fine, just walk over and pour it. I bet those three still want to rest a bit. If you go back so quickly, you’ll just have to work again.]

Hearing this, Chu Zaishuang felt it made sense. She lifted her leg and set off toward the wooden marker.

The last gravestone was quite far from the village. The large tree on the mound was especially conspicuous, and beneath it was a simple, nameless wooden marker-not carved from marble, and didn’t look like it belonged to a wealthy villager. Several bushes surrounded it; this place was far from the farmland, and deeper in was the mountain.

After examining the wooden marker, Chu Zaishuang poured some baijiu at the grave, planning to leave half the bottle to pour at the graves in front of the village.

[There’s someone in the bushes.]

Chu Zaishuang was startled. She turned her head toward the bushes, following Xiao Shi’s direction.

She heard a rustling sound, and a Female Cultivator in lake-blue robes emerged. She had gentle features, a Storage Bag at her waist, and asked in surprise, “Do you know Qiao’er?”

Chu Zaishuang hadn’t expected to find a cultivator outside the village, and not a disciple of the Lotus Flower Sect. She was confused: “Qiao’er?”

“This is my younger sister’s grave.” The Female Cultivator glanced at the baijiu bottle, her tone soft. “Her name was Qiao’er. You don’t know her, so why are you here to sweep the grave?”

“Your sister’s grave, then you’re…” Chu Zaishuang looked back, pointing at the charred village, hesitating, “From this village…”

The Female Cultivator nodded, “Yes, I used to live in the village. I heard about the tragedy here, so I came to see.”

“…My condolences.”

The Female Cultivator saw her discomfort and smiled, “Don’t worry about me. Although I was born here, I don’t have much attachment to the village. It’s just that Qiao’er’s grave is here, so I have to come back to visit her. Ever since I started cultivating, I haven’t interacted with the villagers, so I’m not familiar with them.”

Chu Zaishuang pondered but said nothing.

“You’re not even asking why?” The Female Cultivator blinked. “I thought you’d be curious and ask why I’m so cold-hearted.”

Chu Zaishuang admitted, “Actually, I am curious, but it’s hard to ask. I’m afraid you’d find it intrusive.”

She was always full of endless questions, but only dared to chase after friends and family for answers, feeling emboldened only with those close to her.

The Female Cultivator gazed at the nameless wooden marker and asked, “Could you give me that bottle of wine? Ever since I started cultivating, I stopped keeping mortal things, and now I don’t even have any in my Storage Bag.”

Chu Zaishuang looked down at the bottle and handed it over, “Of course. There’s half left, you can use it all.”

The Female Cultivator took the bottle and poured a circle around the marker, the wine leaving a glistening trail on the wood. After she finished, she sighed, “I should’ve brought some food. I’ve come to visit her a few times, but I’m not as attentive as you-never even brought offerings for the grave. I’m really not a good sister.”

“Mm…” Seeing her loneliness, Chu Zaishuang couldn’t bear it and took out something to offer, handing it to the Female Cultivator. “Would osmanthus candy do?”

“It’s fine…” The Female Cultivator was stunned. “But you’re not a cultivator, how do you have…”

Everyone knew that mortals and cultivators were different; cultivators didn’t eat mortal food, let alone carry it around.

“I just happen to have some candy on me. If your sister doesn’t like sweets, I’ll have to catch some poultry and roast it as an offering.”

Chu Zaishuang rummaged through her Mustard Seed Ring, pulling out a jar of spices and a shadow puppet figurine, enthusiastically recommending her miscellaneous items: “Or maybe she’d like this? I could burn her a little puppet to play with?”

The Female Cultivator watched as Chu Zaishuang started setting up a stall, continuously pulling out mortal items: “?”

“Or if she used to like something, just name two things and I’ll see if I have them. Food, drink, toys-I’ve got it all. She should be satisfied.”

“???”

The Female Cultivator saw her bustling about and was momentarily speechless. After a long while, she muttered, “Are Lotus Flower Sect disciples this thorough when cleaning up?”

This wasn’t just a simple sect task-it was as complete as a mortal funeral service.