Extra: Airplane’s Fortuitous Encounter – Part Three
Extra: Airplane’s Fortuitous Encounter – Part Three
Before his words had fallen, he was solidly peeled off the cart and thrown to the ground.
His body, fallen right in front of Mobei-Jun’s boots; his sword, still half-stuck in its sheath; his heart, hadn’t quite decided whether or not to draw his sword.
Mobei-Jun sneered, an ice-cold glint of blue flashing through his eyes. No sooner said than done, Shang Qinghua threw himself over to hug his thighs with a plop.
All his Shixiong: "=口="
Mobei-Jun: "= ="
Shang Qinghua fell to one knee. "My king, please let me follow you the rest of my life!"
Mobei-Jun wanted to fling him off with a kick, but Shang Qinghua’s adhesive ability was too strong. He wanted to kill him with a blow, but that was even more difficult. Just like a gecko clinging to the wall, he nimbly crawled back and forth, but still managed to stay stuck firmly to his thighs.
He couldn’t help but blaze in anger.
Seeing this incredible feat of stickiness, all the An Ding Peak outer disciples were overjoyed. Throwing down their goods, they flew into escape. Shang Qinghua was just cursing them soundly in his heart when, not three seconds later, all he could hear was a field of screams.
Tens of strands of ice, thin as silk, pierced through their chests. In a mad dance of silver light, droplets of blood flew in all directions.
Seeing this, Shang Qinghua’s grip on Mobei-Jun’s thighs became as strong as steel. He started to chatter incessantly, "My king, please accept me. I’m very useful!"
Mobei-Jun seemed to have tilted his body. "Oh? What use are you?"
"I can serve tea, carry water, wash clothes, fold blankets… no."
Shang Qinghua considerately analyzed for him: "You see my king, I can serve you as an undercover agent in Cang Qiong Mountain, pass on intelligence, and realize the magnificent feat of unifying the Demon Race with the Human Realm."
Mobei-Jun laughed. "An outer disciple, and an An Ding Peak outer disciple at that. With you as a spy, what year and month could you realize the magnificent feat of unifying the Demon Race with the Human Realm?"
Shang Qinghua said, embarrassed, "Don’t discriminate by peak, that isn’t very nice."
Why does even the Demon Race discriminate against them on this basis? And the discrimination against "An Ding Peak" even surpassed that against being an "outer disciple"… I can’t take it, I really can’t take it!
Right when he was weeping bitter tears, tangled and impossible to unravel, desperately fighting for a future, completely without warning, Mobei-Jun——fell to the ground.
Shang Qinghua was still hugging his thighs, and when Mobei-Jun fell he was almost squashed right under him. He hurriedly let go.
He crouched for a while in a daze, suddenly coming to his senses——did Mobei-Jun come here injured?
No wonder his expression was so ugly and his temper was so high, this easy to push over!
Did he accidentally poke one of his wounds with a slip of his hand? Sometimes a slip of the hand is an advantage!
Shang Qinghua cautiously moved over, examining him carefully.
Just as expected, there was a thin wound the length of a finger on Mobei-Jun’s lower waist, roughly over his right kidney. A sharp corner of something gold poked out from inside the wound. He could vaguely see that it was forged from gold threads, an intricate piece of handiwork in the shape of the edge of a flower petal.
So coquettish and cultured,1 it was Huan Hua Palace’s Ling Hua dart, that’s right!
This type of weapon was one of the nonsense details Airplane-juju had cooked up on the fly as a writer. The body of the dart was light and thin and coated with a bit of anaesthetic. It was very difficult for its targets to discover the object breaching their body. If they moved too much, the dart would magnificently "blossom," growing six sharp flower petals to cut the internal organs of its target.
Doesn’t this sound a bit familiar? Doesn’t it seem like it was created as a set with some type of Demon Realm organism? It doesn’t matter, easy enough to do, this thing which could be called a Ling Hua dart was created by some Huan Hua Palace elder who had escaped from the Demon Realm by the skin of their teeth, based on that strange organism called "Qing Si". In short, no need to worry about this sort of fine detail!
Background narration complete, let’s rip ourselves back to the main topic.
That is to say, this pure-blooded second-generation demon who very well might beat him to death with a single strike in the future, not only had his kidney poked through by Huan Hua Palace but was also seriously anesthetized.
It seems like Mobei-Jun had just killed his way out of Huan Hua Palace’s encirclement charm. The Demon Race held their grudges for a long time, and the Mobei clan had an old grievance with Huan Hua Palace. Huan Hua Palace being the sect with the most deaths and injuries at the siege on the Immortal Alliance Conference was precisely Mobei-Jun’s retaliation against them. It connected seamlessly with Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s outline.
Shang Qinghua muttered back and forth in his heart, a mischievous giggle on his face. He looked around on the ground for a while before finding a stone about half the size of a head and hefted it, quite heavy.
One, two, three, he got in position to smash it on Mobei-Jun’s closed-eyed head.
The System didn’t offer any warning hints or prohibiting alerts.
Shang Qinghua relaxed. There’s no warning, that’s to say: Okay to kill!
"My king ah, my king, this is the will of Heaven, don’t blame me." With a completely insincere prayer, his hand rose and the stone fell!
——and braked to a halt, right in front of Mobei-Jun’s arguably perfect nose.
In fact, this character of Mobei-Jun held an unusual significance to him.
It could be said, that Mobei-Jun was the type of man Airplane-juju dreamed of becoming. Strong, cool, following his own way, like every little kid’s childhood dream of becoming Ultraman.
How could he apathetically watch on as he killed Ultraman with his own hands!
Shang Qinghua whimpered for a while.
After he finished, he had a completely shameless thought: It’s fine if he just doesn’t watch, right?
So, he turned his head, raising the stone up high.
——No he still can’t do it.
Shang Qinghua threw aside the cumbersome murder weapon with a plop. His eyes shining with emotion, his whole body nearly fell on top of Mobei-Jun.
He can’t, he can’t, the more he looks the more he feels this face is too demonically handsome.
In truth, in his innermost heart, Bing-ge’s type of fair and clear pretty-boy appearance didn’t really suit his tastes. Airplane Flying Towards the Sky-juju only gave the protagonist this sort of configuration to complete his stallion hardware facilities, stallions also had to be planted with some science behind them.2 And the scientific research was clear, women preferred the cultured and pretty, even a bit soft and feminine male appearance.
Protagonists couldn’t avoid getting blasted, it could be said that Bing-ge had three parts fans to five parts haters. But Mobei-Jun was not the same. Supporting characters always attracted a lot of love, and Mobei-Jun had practically never gotten hated on.
This character was created completely according to his own tastes. Because he was a character secretly favored by the author, Mobei-Jun embodied Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s scholarly aesthetic of the ideal fellow man. Don’t ask why Luo Binghe didn’t embody his ideal man, Luo Binghe’s use was primarily to fulfill his desire to play cool and slap faces, as well as his desire for wanton (this section ought to be crossed out).
Even the young Mobei-Jun of the present, not yet fully-grown, was completely in line with "Eyes deep as night, nose straight and high, full of heroic spirit, icily arrogant beyond compare", those sixteen words describing his true aesthetic.
This was the beautiful man he dreamed of in his heart!
The stone murder weapon lifted and lowered, lowered and lifted. Shang Qinghua (after transmigration) was faced with a difficult life-and-death choice for the first time in his life.
Finally, Shang Qinghua decided: Time to rent a room!
He arrived at the inn to rent a room… no, a resting house.
This place was a field of dead bodies. Shang Qinghua hesitated a bit, then poured that pile of Qing Jing Peak’s heavy and useless nuisances clean off the cart like a pile of garbage. He lifted Mobei-Jun up, face-down, covering that face that would make him lose control every time he looked at it.
He couldn’t return to Cang Qiong Mountain for the time being. On that side, no one would realize anything was amiss so quickly because this trip was anticipated to last seven days, of which only two had passed.
To stand steadfast by this demonic young heir and protect him when he was weakened by a sneak attack, how wonderful an opportunity to garner some goodwill. Comforting himself with this reasoning, Shang Qinghua huffed and puffed, pushing that large flatbed cart towards the city.
To rent the room, Shang Qinghua spent the secret stash of money he had been saving these last few years.
At this time, he was only an ordinary, mediocre outer disciple, he didn’t have any authority to manage accounts or draw from the sect coffers. Renting a room was already stretching the limits of his economic ability. So, as a matter of course, it was a single room. So, as a matter of course, there was only one bed. Who this bed belonged to, was also a matter of course.
Of course, it was for himself!
Spread out like a starfish, Shang Qinghua sprawled on the bed like a corpse. 3 After he had finished stretching out his muscles and bones, he crawled up and carried Mobei-Jun onto the bed.
This was necessary. Mobei-Jun was already in a bad mood and high temper after being injured. If he awoke to find himself lying on the ground or scrunched into a chair, could Shang Qinghua still keep his life? Of course, he wouldn’t consider his benefactor in the situation before awarding him with an icicle through the chest 4.
When they were passing by a medicine stand just then, Shang Qinghua had bought a bit of such-and-such ointment. With the Demonic Race’s unusually strong vitality, he could just toss him there and ignore him and no matter how large a hole would gradually close. However, since he had decided to hug some thighs, he knew he had to discard all reservations to display his sincerity. As a self-proclaimed proper subordinate, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky-juju looked down on hypocrites who claimed to be hugging thighs but were just putting on an act! He boldly dug out a large lump, shoving it into the hole in Mobei-Jun’s kidney until it was more or less closed, then flipped him over, arranging his hands palms-together in a Sleeping Beauty pose. After admiring this perfect face he had modeled after his mind’s ideal, he pillowed his head on his arms and fell asleep on the outer side of the bed.
The summer night was stifling hot. Even with the window open, not a wisp of cooling breeze flowed in.
After tossing and turning for half the night, he finally managed to doze off when someone suddenly shoved him to the ground with a kick to the butt.
Shang Qinghua was almost frightened to death by this kick.
He tumbled and darted under the table, hesitantly turning his head in a panic. Mobei-Jun sat straight up on the bed, eyes shining blue like an overcharged battery about to explode.
Shang Qinghua had long thought up his lines. Full of expressive tone, he beat his chest and stomped his feet, saying, "My king, you’re finally awake——"
Mobei-Jun didn’t move an inch, coldly gazing at him.
Shang Qinghua: "Do you still remember who I am?"
The other didn’t respond. Shang Qinghua didn’t feel a bit of embarrassment, still delightedly considering the possibility of amnesia. He barreled on: "Now that, we met on the small road just then. I said I would follow you for the rest of my life, my king, as your…"
Mobei-Jun cut him off. "What were you holding me for just now."
"… close like a little padded jacket…" Shang Qinghua started. "What did you say? I did what to you just now?"
"You were holding me."
A sudden realization, thunder from a clear sky.
This damn heat was like baking in a furnace, and it turns out Mobei-Jun’s body temperature was cold. In the bleariness of sleep, he had subconsciously moved towards the cooler side, and the closer he got the cooler and more comfortable. No wonder he had dreamed of a giant popsicle, happily wrapping his four limbs right around like an octopus, licking and crying happy tears.
Shang Qinghua carefully peeked at Mobei-Jun’s face and neck. Seeing no peculiar shine of water, he couldn’t resist letting out an ‘Ah mi tuo fo’. He cautiously said, "Your body was ice-cold, I was afraid you weren’t going to make it, so I was holding you."
Hearing this, Mobei-Jun scoffed. "Moron. I’m naturally like this, the colder my body the better. I’m not a human, where cold means nearing death."
Shang Qinghua was carefully watching his words and expression the whole time. Seeing his expression soften, a smile immediately spread across his face. Just when he was about to slither out from under the table like a snake crawling up the stick used to strike it, Mobei-Jun suddenly recovered his icy-cold demeanor. "You just try making another move."
Shang Qinghua immediately lost the courage
Mobei-Jun said, "What is your goal?"
Shang Qinghua said shamelessly, "I don’t really have a goal, I just want to follow you for the rest of my life."
Mobei-Jun acted as if he didn’t hear. "You’re an An Ding Peak outer disciple."
Nowadays, Shang Qinghua always felt that whenever anyone stressed those three words "An Ding Peak", it carried an overtone of prejudice. For fear that Mobei-Jun would deem himself useless and do away with him right away, he poked out his head. "My king, listen to me, I’m still young, I still have opportunities to rise in status…"
"Go back!"
Shang Qinghua hurriedly retreated back to safety.
Satisfied with this distance, Mobei-Jun said, "You assisting me, is it for those ‘opportunities to rise in status’?"
Sure enough, he was proud and arrogant. He didn’t use "save", this rather weak verb, but changed it to "assist", this wording carrying an overtone of subordination. Shang Qinghua laughed mischievously, playing dumb.
"No"? The credibility of this response was less than 3%. "Yes"? Mobei-Jun rather looked down upon this type of spineless subordinate. This was the reason the original didn’t think twice about killing the original goods Shang Qinghua, because he had never planned on letting him live in the first place. How could he shamelessly admit that he did it just to chase up his goodwill stat?
Fortunately, Mobei-Jun had long come to a conclusion, a label of "greedy for life, afraid of death, slippery boot-licker, sect sellout" had been slapped onto Shang Qinghua’s head. He didn’t need him to respond, only letting out a cold snort and lying down again.
Shang Qinghua waited for a long time, not moving another step.
Had he gotten a concession from him for the time being? Or… did he faint again??
In the end, Shang Qinghua still didn’t dare to rashly approach and nestled under the table, making do for the night.
After tossing and turning for half the night, upon waking for the morning, Shang Qinghua officially began a busy day of being the cow and acting as the horse.
In that morning alone, Shang Qinghua worked hard without complaint to run up and down more than twenty times, changing the water in the bathtub seven or eight times.
This water was to help Mobei-Jun heal his wounds. Soaking in water would be better for this ice-powered uncle after all. But before he soaked for a whole hour, a perfectly-good tub of warm water would turn into icy slush. Shang Qinghua huddled in the corner, chewing on some rations he had with him while watching Mobei-Jun undress, feeling both extreme envy and extreme admiration for that figure and those abs he yearned for in his dreams.
As he watched, he suddenly realized Mobei-Jun had stopped, staring at him, a not quite happy look on his face.
Shang Qinghua chewed a couple of times, hurriedly eating a few extra bites, just in case Mobei-Jun suddenly demanded he hand over his rations.
Mobei-Jun asked, "You’re very idle?"
Shang Qinghua said hurriedly, "Not salty, this one is sweet5."
He didn’t have the chance to eat a few more bites before a few strips of black shadows hit him full in the face.
So, Shang Qinghua wasn’t idle any more, he had to go wash his newly-claimed master’s clothes.
That’s right, this young demonic heir had come out in this set, and now it was full of holes and blood and sweat, how could he wear it any longer? Of course, he had to sew and mend and wash and dry.
This low-fantasy xianxia world was precisely this unromantic, dismal, a reality of ten thousand evils!
Shang Qinghua swore, if he ever had the opportunity to change back to Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky-juju, his next book would be of the high-fantasy xuanhuan genre, the type where brains could be swallowed and science fed to the dogs. Weaving clouds into garments, trimming the moon into a belt, all manual labor could be resolved with the twitch of a finger, you’ll never again need the type of dismal existence like An Ding Peak!
Considerately patching up the hole in Mobei-Jun’s clothes near his kidney, wringing them dry and hanging them in the room, Shang Qinghua felt he had made a very good show of himself that day.
Since it was night, he thickened his face and crawled towards the bed, still carrying this mysterious self-confidence. Before he had gotten close to the bedside, history repeated itself, and he was kicked off again.
He sat on the ground, tears in both eyes, his voice trembling. "… My king, you won’t let me on the bed, what if in the night you’re cold, thirsty, hungry, want to turn over… what then?"
Mobei-Jun lifted an eyebrow and said, "Easily done."
So, he ordered Shang Qinghua to find a strand of rope. One end tied on his finger, the other tied on Shang Qinghua’s…
Finger?
How he be so fortunate, it was just his neck, nothing more.
Shang Qinghua laid on the ground like a corpse, thinking to himself this human is living a life worse than a fucking dog… the only comforting thought he could find was that at least Mobei-Jun wasn’t some sort of pervert, the other end tied on his [BEEP–], that would really be inhuman treatment.
He passed four days like this, suffering every kind of torment, and Shang Qinghua really felt the days drag by like years. Even his nights were an unceasing nightmare.
Today, in the middle of the night, Shang Qinghua was sound asleep, dreaming again.
This time he dreamed he was in the real world, crying and weeping towards a computer screen. Beside him was a fiendish large man, holding a thorny cucumber like a rather hairy lower leg, fiercely thrashing his face, thrashing and roaring, "Everything you write is some cracked trash!"
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky dodged the cucumber like his life depended on it, striving to explain himself. "I already haven’t updated in very long. Cucumber bro, don’t be like this!"
Peerless Cucumber: "Then why don’t you quickly update!" Saying this, a loop of rope wrapped around his neck.
Suffering every sort of hardship, Shang Qinghua fought to awaken, only to find the rope still tightening around his neck. Following it with his gaze, Mobei-Jun was lying on the bed, mechanically pulling on the rope tied to his hand.
Shang Qinghua said dispiritedly, "My King, what do you want?"
Only after asking a couple of times did he discover that Mobei-Jun wasn’t giving him a hard time on purpose. He was completely unconscious, just tossing and turning in extreme discomfort, blearily messing with the thing in his hand to vent his anger. As the unfortunate one with the rope around his neck, Shang Qinghua’s eyeballs were almost squeezed out under the force of his pulls.
Mobei-Jun pursed his brow, still restlessly rolling back and forth. Shang Qinghua quietly tiptoed to his bedside. Seeing the shallow beads of sweat seeping from his smooth forehead and the wisps of hot air rising from his clothes, he understood.
Mobei-Jun’s kidney looked like it was only a small wound, not anything alarming, but the true situation was a bit serious. It’s just that he stubbornly tried to ride it through, refusing to say a word. In addition, it goes without saying that the ice demons hated hot weather the most. It was the height of summer, and maybe the wound was undergoing something similar to inflammation, even beginning to fester.
His kidney was healing this slowly, did he need some sort of renal aid to strengthen it a bit!
The Mobei clan just needed cold temperatures, if they didn’t have cold temperatures they would have to make their own. Shang Qinghua muttered a "sleeping posture really so fucking bad", then accepted his fate and went out. Not hindered by the fact that knocking on doors in the middle of the night would be quite rude, he asked for two leaf fans, a basin of water, and two clean towels. He returned and wiped Mobei-Jun down, then placed a wet towel on his forehead. Taking up the leaf fans one in his left hand and one in his right, he fanned as though his life depended on it.
He fanned and yawned incessantly, fanning until his eyes were bleary. Half in a dream and half awake, he seemed to see that Mobei-Jun’s eyes were open. Icy-blue pupils were bright and cold under the moonlight, like a pair of magnificent and eerie chrysoberyls.
This scene really was too frightening. Shang Qinghua shivered, opening his eyes wide to take a better look, but Mobei-Jun’s eyes were clearly shut tight.
Once he awakened, he realized there was a major problem.
Last night, Shang Qinghua had been dizzy from the heat. Waving and waving those leaf fans, he had managed to topple over on the bed and fall asleep. Too close, too close, thankfully Mobei-Jun was still asleep, if he woke up he might just kick his brains flying!
Shang Qinghua hurriedly jumped off the bed, laying down in that piece of territory he had claimed for himself beneath the headboard.
After a while, the bed frame began to creak lightly and Mobei-Jun finally sat up. Shang Qinghua hissed to himself, that was too close. If he had woken up a bit later, he’d be a blood splatter on the spot.
The next day, having gained King Mobei’s gracious permission, he could finally see the light again, going out to talk a walk on the street.
In fact, he had hugged Mobei-Jun’s thighs and wailed, "My king, I’m out of rations, my cultivation level isn’t high enough that I can eat when I want and abstain when I don’t, if you don’t let me go out to buy rations, I’ll starve to death and I’m afraid my corpse would stink up the room for you…"
He bought a bowl of thin congee to drink from the shop at the street corner. The congee was clear as water. Lowering his head and seeing a glimpse of his reflection, he had a wan and sallow appearance like he had been trampled, a chrysanthemum battered by the rain.
Just when he was wallowing in his wretched misery, he heard someone call "Shidi" from behind. Turning to look, he saw four or five young men, exuding a cool immortal aura, sleeves and hems fluttering in the breeze, shouldering long swords, solemnly walking towards him.
Comrades, his comrades from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect!
That’s right, seven days had already passed, they had organized a group of people to come find him!
Shang Qinghua was moved to tears. Reaching out a trembling hand, he said, "Shixiong, Wei-shixiong!"
A smile filled the face of the leading youth. Two swords hung at his waist, one long one short, his sleeves billowing as if filled with a cool breeze. It was Wan Jian Peak’s Wei Qingwei-shixiong. Seeing Shang Qinghua rush out to greet him, he raised a hand to meet him, moved. "X-shidi, you… what happened to you? How did you completely change into this state in the last few days since we met, you don’t even look human!"
"…" Shang Qinghua choked back down a face full of hot tears, embarrassed. "That’s probably because I’m not X-shixiong."
Right now he had only gotten a bit skinnier because he didn’t have anything good to eat, what’s with that ‘don’t even look human’? In addition, Wei-shixiong and you all, I’ve polished every sword in your Wan Jian Peak sword testing station at least three times, and every time you want me to sweep your rooms while I’m at it, and make your food while I’m at it, and also feed your pangolins, but you’ve forgotten my face this quickly!
Wei Qingwei said, "Can’t you see I’m making a joke? What, is it not funny? Oh right, Shang-shidi, why are you all alone? Where are the others? Why did you delay your return, did something happen?"
"Uh Wei-shixiong, you really like to make these corny jokes. The others… the others…"
This sudden encounter was too unexpected, and Shang Qinghua couldn’t make up a seamless story on short notice. He could only sway a couple of times, his face deathly pale, then fall to the ground with a plop.
Right now, he looked like his body couldn’t hold up much longer, and absolutely no one would suspect if he faked a faint.
While he was playing dead, he sensed Wei Qingwei crouch down, poking his face a couple of times. The others said, "Shixiong, he fainted, what should we do?"
Wei Qingwei said, still poking, "What can we do, let’s drag him back first and figure it out then."
Qiong Ding Peak.
Rows and rows of dead bodies were arranged outside the main hall. Other than Shang Qinghua, each of the An Ding Peak outer disciples who were sent to retrieve goods that day were lying there, not missing a single one.
Shang Qinghua kneeled in front of the bodies, tears pattering to the ground.
There was nothing to be done, it was difficult to get by in this cultivation world. Someone with no good innate ability like him really couldn’t do without well-developed tear glands. Or else he couldn’t put on an act of "heartbroken sorrow, can’t even speak clearly" in front of the Peak Lords just now.
After the Peak Lords had finished asking questions, they had gone inside the hall to discuss, the atmosphere serious and solemn. He suddenly heard the tinkling of sword tassel pendants bouncing against each other, a youth wearing Qing Jing Peak uniform slowly approaching.
This youth had snowy-fair skin, slender brows and eyes, pale lips, a somewhat harsh appearance. Black hair was neatly tied behind his head with a light green ribbon, holding a long sword in his arms. It was precisely that tyrant, that inauspicious star, a certain exotic flower from Qing Jing Peak,《Proud Immortal Demon Way》’s scum villain par excellence of the generation——Shen Qingqiu.
After Shen Qingqiu finished examining the bodies, he asked indifferently, "Did that demon ask you to bring back some message, or some object?"
Shang Qinghua started. This superior had actually taken the initiative to speak with him, he felt overwhelmed by the favor. "No?"
Shen Qingqiu habitually raised his chin, often looking down his nose at others. Every time Shang Qinghua spoke with him, he felt he was sneering at him, though sneering didn’t really matter, he was already used to it…
Shen Qingqiu said, with an expression like a smile yet not. "Then that’s strange. Seven or eight people all died, if you don’t have some message to take to us why would you of all people be the only survivor?"
Shang Qinghua blinked his eyes, tears once again streaming down. "This… this…"
This time, Shen Qingqiu smiled for real. "Shang——Shidi. What was the reason you could escape unscathed and return to Cang Qiong Mountain?"
He absolutely could not give a careless response to these words.
This guy, the Shen Qingqiu of this world, worked according to his original setup. He wasn’t the same as those IQ 40, paper-thin cannon fodders, and he absolutely was not easy to deceive. If he blew his cover and struck back with a complaint, his undercover career would be over before it even began.
He smiled and played dumb for 30 seconds. Suddenly, the lightbulb on top of his head lit up, and right away he began to stammer, "This… it might be because…"
Because he didn’t hesitate a second to kneel?
Because he yelled "My King!" loud and sincere?
Because he brazenly abandoned all his dignity?
Shen Qingqiu waited patiently and got a fit of gut-wrenching coughs for his trouble.
Shang Qinghua coughed until tears poured from his eyes. Shen Qingqiu backed up a step, a shade of disgust on his face.
Everything has its weakness, see who I’ll summon to come deal with you!
Sure enough, after five seconds, Yue Qingyuan’s voice sounded out from behind them.
"Qingqiu-shidi, the behavior of the Demon Race has no law to speak of in the first place, and Shang-shidi only just managed to escape great catastrophe. Even if there are questions to ask, why not wait until he recovers a bit."
And he appears! The god-tier summon ‧ do-gooder ‧ future Sect Leader ‧ Yue Qingyuan enters the battlefield!
Shang Qinghua silently began to count.
Shen Qingqiu raised his hand and said, "Fine, fine. If my words are unpleasant to hear, I won’t say any more. Yue-shixiong, as you will."
1hit.
Yue Qingyuan said, "This time, our Shidi from An Ding Peak descended the mountain to help handle affairs for Qing Jing Peak in the first place, why must Shidi be so half-hearted in his sympathy and stingy in giving… Shang-shidi, why are you coughing harder and harder, do you need me to go call Qian Cao Peak’s Mu-shidi to take a look at you?"
2hit. Shang Qinghua shook his head at Yue Qingyuan, shedding tears of gratitude. He continued to count.
Shen Qingqiu sneered, "The twelve peaks each oversee their own duties, each has their own expertise. An Ding Peak is supposed to do this in the first place, why must Yue-shixiong talk like they’ve been wronged in some way like An Ding Peak is the only one with things to do in Cang Qiong Mountain? Besides, don’t tell me Shixiong believes they really do work hard without complaint? That they don’t curse us out behind our backs every day?"
3hit.
Yue Qingyuan’s expression was unerringly patient from beginning to end. He was just about to respond when Shen Qingqiu cut him off. "Stop. Thank you for your instruction, Yue-shixiong, Qingqiu will continue to listen in the future. I’m going."
4hit. Get!
He just knew, if these two struck up a conversation, they would absolutely part on bad terms by the fifth sentence!
After Shen Qingqiu walked away, holding Xiu Ya, Yue Qingyuan finally turned around. "Shang-shidi, you’ve suffered a scare."
Shang Qinghua said hurriedly, "No no no…"
Compared to the exhaustion and exploitation he’d suffered these few days, a little scare was nothing at all!
The old man lost his horse, but it was a blessing in disguise. After this incident, maybe because the old An Ding Peak Lord wanted to appease Shang Qinghua or whatever, he was promoted to an official inner disciple.
Shang Qinghua sang happily the whole way, returning to the large common dormitory to pack up his things before arriving at An Ding Peak’s highest-level Leisure House to report for duty.
That’s right, you didn’t read that wrong. On An Ding Peak, these disciples who ran around here and there all their lives like roughly-used servant girls lived in a dormitory called the "Leisure House".
Leisure my ass! Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky-juju swore he didn’t come up with this name in the first place with any satirical overtone, but nowadays he felt the immense malice of this world every time saw these two words.
Shang Qinghua found his own small room. Exhausted in both body and mind, he persevered and laid out his bedding, turning to pour himself a cup of water. When he turned back around, someone else had already laid down in his bed.
In an utter cliche, the new teacup he had received from the steward’s office dropped from his hands to the ground. His legs softened, nearly sitting his butt right down on the ground. "… My King."
Mobei-Jun turned, face towards him. He was expressionless, but his voice was cold as ice. "Following me the rest of your life, en?"
Shang Qinghua was going to cry in fright.
He even followed him back. He never thought… no, strictly speaking, it wasn’t like he never thought——"Mysterious Phantom: Come and Go Like a Shadow", he had developed this special ability himself in the first place so Mobei-Jun could help Bing-ge kill people and set fires, move under cover of dark anywhere and anytime!
Shang Qinghua babbled nonstop, "My king, let me explain. That day as soon as I went outside, I just wanted to drink some congee and come back, but who knew, fate was fooling around with me, I ran into a familiar Shixiong. I was afraid he’d ask too many questions and I’d let something slip, and he’d take people to look for you, my king, and cause trouble, that wouldn’t be good. In addition, your injuries weren’t causing you serious trouble anymore, I thought it through from different angles and decided I had to endure disgrace for my mission and follow them back, from then on if I saw an opportunity I would…"
The hand Mobei-Jun was using to prop up his temple seemed to have gotten tired, and he switched to the other.
"They told you to return, and you just followed them back."
Shang Qinghua said, aggrieved, "So, what else could I have done? Refuse to submit unto death? Show my hand and fight? That wouldn’t do, aside from the fact that I can’t defeat them, the important thing is, I still had to be an undercover agent for you, my King, how could I tear down my face for Cang Qiong Mountain this early?"
In the midst of this wildfire burst of enthusiasm, he struck while the iron was hot. "I report to my King, I’ve already become an inner disciple, isn’t that showing ample drive? Doesn’t that have a lot of upward potential? …"
Kissing up. Kissing up to the extreme.
However, no matter how much he looked like he was kissing up on the surface, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky-juju’s inner heart was placid clouds and soft breezes. He always firmly believed:
1: There’s a prime time for a real man to kneel (the order is right);
2: A real man does not easily cry, if he doesn’t cry now then when would he.
These two major rules of life told him, in times of great need, kissing up a bit isn’t anything remarkable. If you think about it another way, Mobei-Jun was a character he created, and as an author, he was equivalent to his own son. For a father to concede a bit to his own son, to show a bit of love, of course it wasn’t anything remarkable. That so-called children are the debts parents owe from their previous lives…
Ping ping pang pang, after suffering another good beating, Shang Qinghua hugged his knees, crouching in the chair, adeptly using the Ah Q Spirit Technique6 to heal his wounds.
After stretching out his muscles and bones, Mobei-Jun laid back down on the bed, stretching out and turning his back towards Shang Qinghua. His voice was not loud or soft, carrying a hint of a hidden trap: "We’ll continue tomorrow."
…
You fucking want to continue?!
Shang Qinghua had an urge to scream and shout, call down the entirety of Cang Qiong Mountain to accompany him to his death.
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