WPCID 40: And That’s All

Shen Zhou gathered the puppets that were wandering outside and counted them again.

There were five in total, but one was missing.

And the one missing was the very first, most special one he had ever made.

Shen Zhou frowned.

The other puppets only performed simple tasks according to his instructions, like roaming within the Myriad Bones Grotto, reporting back when they found a break in the seal, avoiding Chu Xuan, and so on. But that one was different. In that puppet’s heart, he had placed a small fragment of a demon core.

Unlike a Golden Core, a demon core, even when shattered into many pieces, could still re-fuse with the main body. Therefore, he had tried placing a fragment in this particular puppet.

The little thing had become very special. Unlike the other puppets that needed to return to him periodically to replenish their demonic energy, this one would find things with spiritual or demonic energy to eat on its own. It could also learn some simple things, like tugging at the corner of his robes to act cute, helping to repair array formations, and also… staying out all night.

Fortunately, there was a connection between the main demon core and the fragment, so it wouldn’t be completely lost.

Shen Zhou was very busy, busy refining demonic energy so he could go out and search for his cultivation partner’s reincarnation despite the wanted posters from Kunlun Ruins. Sometimes he would lose track of it for three or five days.

But for it to be lost outside the Myriad Bones Grotto, breaking the connection, had never happened before.

If a fragment of the demon core was completely lost, it would be a significant blow to the main body. It had to be retrieved.

But outside the Myriad Bones Grotto… was Kunlun Ruins.

The Kunlun Ruins that Lu Buzhuo loved.

Shen Zhou lowered his gaze, rubbing the red robe he wore.

Perhaps the puppet will return on its own after some time, he thought. The outside world wasn’t a good place. The Myriad Bones Grotto was more suitable. There were no deceptive pastries, no one to tear a half-demon’s ears, and no one carrying a sword to kill demonic cultivators.

And he certainly wouldn’t meet a cultivation partner who would say, “Don’t be a demonic cultivator anymore.”

A place like this was good, suitable for half-demons, demonic cultivators, and puppets.

So, he smoothed the wrinkled sleeve and sat back down.

Lu Ye settled down peacefully at Lu Buzhuo’s place.

The little fellow was very well-behaved, except that he couldn’t speak. But not being able to speak didn’t matter. As long as he looked at Lu Buzhuo with those large, glistening dark eyes, Lu Buzhuo would automatically translate.

“Hungry? Want some pastries?”

“Hm? He says you’re very delicious… no, I mean, he wants to eat what he ate at your place. Xie Xianqing, what did you feed him?”

“If you’re full, then don’t eat. Put it there. Come here, I’ll teach you how to draw talismans.”

“Mm, oh. Xie Xianqing, he wants to play with your medicine furnace… Eat it? Don’t talk nonsense.”

“He doesn’t like you, stop pawing at him.”

…

Xie Xianqing tolerated all of this.

Until today.

“You’re missing a thousand-year-old spirit ginseng? Let me ask… Lu Ye says he didn’t see it.”

Xie Xianqing’s patience finally snapped. He slammed the table and shot up. 

“I saw him steal it with my own eyes! I can let it slide when he occasionally makes off with a pound or two of medicinal herbs, but this spirit ginseng is a treasure passed down from my grandmaster… Wait, why does he only target the things passed down from my master and grandmaster!?”

This shout was quite loud. Lu Ye was startled, dropped the few corn cobs Lu Buzhuo had gotten from somewhere, and scrambled to hide behind him.

Lu Buzhuo’s body was still weak, and a child of eight or nine didn’t know his own strength. He nearly pulled Lu Buzhuo down.

While trying to rescue his sleeve, Lu Buzhuo nudged the little fellow forward. 

“Did you really eat his spirit ginseng? And herbs? A pound or two? Let me tell you, petty theft is not allowed in Kunlun Ruins…”

Xie Xianqing felt vindicated, his anger subsiding. He crossed his arms, waiting for the scolding to continue, while pondering whether to use this incident to coerce Lu Buzhuo into drinking his medicine or for some other purpose.

As he waited, he suddenly noticed the scolding had stopped.

Xie Xianqing: “?”

He looked up and saw the top of the little fellow’s head with its swirl of dark hair.

Yes, he was looking up at Lu Buzhuo again, clutching his robes, clinging to him pitifully.

“What did he say this time?” Xie Xianqing asked, accustomed to this.

Lu Buzhuo’s eyes were downcast, lost in a daze.

After a long moment, he looked up as if startled awake, stroked Lu Ye’s head, and said softly, “He said, ‘Don’t send me away.'”

Shen Zhou waited in the Myriad Bones Grotto for a full half a month, but the puppet did not return.

He could finally wait no longer. Under the cover of night, he quietly left the Myriad Bones Grotto.

He ran along the small path, the ends of his hair tied back flying high, his wolf ears flashing with a silver gleam from time to time, as light and ethereal as a phantom.

Before long, the view opened up before him.

The vast ice field reflected the moonlight and his red robe, making it look like flowing blood.

Not far away were the shadowy mountain ranges of Kunlun Ruins, so close it felt as if a single turn in his sleep might startle them awake.

Shen Zhou moved cautiously, taking a wide detour.

After walking for half the night, he suddenly stopped, looking around in confusion. The connection that had been gradually growing stronger was weakening again. It seemed he had gone in the wrong direction.

Shen Zhou thought for a moment, then turned and headed back towards the Myriad Bones Grotto.

He ran for another half-night. The sky began to lighten, casting a brilliant, fiery glow upon the ice field.

Shen Zhou stopped once more and looked around.

His wolf ears twitched in confusion.

He suddenly realized that the lost puppet seemed to be within the very mountain range he was trying so hard to avoid.

Shen Zhou knocked out a Kunlun Ruins disciple.

The sect uniform of Kunlun Ruins was a mix of blue and white. He had never worn such a light and elegant color. He looked at his reflection in a pool of water again and again, then wrapped his wolf ears with a strip of cloth.

At first glance, he now looked like a handsome youth with ink-dark features, the corners of his eyes slightly upturned, giving him a cool and detached air, with no trace of malevolence.

Perhaps this was how he was always meant to be.

He hid the unconscious disciple and followed the faint, almost non-existent connection, heading straight for Lesser Hermit Peak.

On the way, he passed a slope covered in blooming flowers. He stopped to look for a long time but couldn’t see anything particularly beautiful about them.

They were nothing like the Bamboo Cove on those rainy days.

Shen Zhou thought. He casually plucked a few flowers he had never seen before, intending to take them back to the Myriad Bones Grotto to try and plant them.

The flowers here bloomed with a mad passion, vying for beauty. He could find a new type every few steps. He walked and plucked, burying his head as he tossed them into his storage ring, leaving a faint trail behind him.

At the end of the sea of flowers, the hazy mist suddenly dissipated, and a courtyard abruptly appeared.

To call it a courtyard wasn’t quite accurate. It was more like a residence hidden in the mountains, complete with pavilions, terraces, waterscapes, and corridors, but without any surrounding walls, just open and exposed.

Shen Zhou observed it cautiously, not approaching rashly. He tried to summon the puppet back.

The puppet completely ignored him.

Shen Zhou: “?”

He couldn’t figure out what was wrong with this puppet. Not only had it left the Myriad Bones Grotto on its own, but it was also showing strong resistance to his summons.

So he concealed his aura, chose a hill with a good vantage point, and looked towards the residence.

Before long, a white figure appeared by the edge of a pond. A short little thing was clinging to his leg, preventing him from walking quickly. He turned, picked it up, and lowered his head to give it a kiss.

On the hilltop, the dark eyes trembled violently.

That figure, that posture, was so familiar it was carved into his bones. The memory of it was mixed with the scent of blood and rain. His heart suddenly clenched in a sharp, throbbing pain, beating faster and faster, a tumultuous drumming, like a downpour pounding against his soul.

“Lu…” he murmured softly, as if in a dream. 

“Lu… Buzhuo?”

By the pond.

Lu Buzhuo suddenly turned his head but saw nothing.

Under the corridor, Xie Xianqing pushed open a door, a half-eaten Coptis root still in his hand. 

“I say, can’t you control him a little?”

“What did he eat now?” Lu Buzhuo came back to his senses, looked at the Coptis root in his hand, and frowned. 

“Can’t you just put away the things he’s not supposed to eat?”

Xie Xianqing was momentarily speechless. Too lazy to argue with him further, he sat down under the eaves and began to organize his bag of needles.

After a moment, Lu Ye ambled over.

“What do you want?” Xie Xianqing said. 

“I’ve told you, you can’t eat these needles.”

Lu Ye nodded and handed him a thin needle he had picked up somewhere.

Xie Xianqing was surprised. He took the needle, and before he could say anything, he watched the boy wander away.

A moment later, he returned, holding various colorful flowers in his hands.

Xie Xianqing had lived for hundreds of years and had long forgotten the last time he had received something so worthless.

He was stunned for a long while before saying dryly, “Oh… thank you.”

He paused, then took out a packet of licorice candy as a return gift. 

“Here, take this.”

The little fellow took the licorice candy and returned to Lu Buzhuo’s side as if seeking praise, his eyes shining.

Lu Buzhuo ruffled his head, found a silk pouch to put the candy in, tied it to his waist, and gave him a gentle push. 

“Go and play. Don’t eat random things.”

Xie Xianqing had, at some point, come to stand beside him, holding the flowers. He nudged him with his shoulder and whispered, “Did you teach him that?”

“No,” Lu Buzhuo said, his gaze on Lu Ye’s back. 

“The other day, when I drew those self-defense talismans for you, you brought over some bundles of calming incense. Lu Ye asked me what it meant.”

Xie Xianqing fell quiet.

After a moment, he commented, “He’s quite thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful about what?”

“Learning how to be likable,” Xie Xianqing said. 

“Why don’t you look very happy?”

“Once… I also received a bundle of wild mountain berries like that.” Lu Buzhuo was still watching the figure running back and forth by the pond, his expression so calm it was like being encased in a hard shell, as if he weren’t talking about himself. 

“I didn’t accept them. I threw them on the ground, crushed them, and gave him a harsh beating.”

Xie Xianqing was taken aback. 

“And then?”

“He continued to give me other things, and he still got beaten.” Lu Buzhuo said softly, “Later, he finally realized that it was just that he himself was unlikable.”

Xie Xianqing was silent for a long moment before saying, “How could something like that happen?”

“Yes, how could something like that happen,” Lu Buzhuo said. 

“It was clearly the fault of the person receiving the gifts.”

For no reason, Xie Xianqing suddenly remembered those furry wolf ears, the kick that sent him out the door at the critical moment, and the scent of the shattered golden sore ointment on the ground. He belatedly tasted a hint of clumsy goodwill in it all.

“Are you talking about that—” Before he could finish, he was bumped. He looked down and saw Lu Ye’s expressive eyes looking up at him expectantly.

…There was some resemblance.

Xie Xianqing watched for a while, then squatted down and took out the half-bitten spirit ginseng. 

“Want some?”

Lu Ye took the ginseng, finished it in two bites, and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek.

Xie Xianqing: “.”

Xie Xianqing: “Next time I’ll bring you something else… Lu Buzhuo, does the way he’s looking at me mean he likes me?”

“Just a little,” Lu Buzhuo said, lifting the boy away by his underarms. 

“Not a lot. Alright, stop looking around. Go practice your horse stance.”

Xie Xianqing stood up and patted his clothes. 

“Would you call this jealousy?”

“What would I be jealous of you for?” Lu Buzhuo said with a serious face. 

“Can’t you tell that Lu Ye especially likes me?”

“…” That point was irrefutable, so Xie Xianqing changed the subject. 

“My, who taught him to do a horse stance like that? It looks like he’s squatting over a latrine.”

“Weren’t you the one who said he had quite a talent?” Lu Buzhuo chuckled. He walked over and carefully corrected his posture, hand over hand, speaking softly, “How did I teach you last time? You haven’t remembered a single thing.”

The little fellow turned his head to look at him.

“Stop looking. I won’t send you away.” Lu Buzhuo ruffled his head again. 

“Kunlun Ruins won’t miss the food to feed one extra mouth.”

Xie Xianqing stayed nearby. When Lu Buzhuo went back to his room for a nap, he would take out a handful of strange medicinal herbs and feed them to Lu Ye, who accepted them all without question.

Shen Zhou sat on the hill and watched for a whole day.

He watched the puppet he had made with his own hands, a thing that wasn’t even a person, so easily receive the kindness and affection he had never gotten in two lifetimes.

Back then, when he clutched the wild mountain berries he had nearly fallen into a thorny bush to pick, offering them up with a heart full of hope and sincerity, had he also hoped for that kind of gentle, hands-on teaching?

Shen Zhou couldn’t remember clearly.

Later, all he wanted was to survive.

Unfortunately, even that small wish was not granted.

The day his Golden Core was carved out in his previous life.

Inside the Myriad Bones Grotto, a black fog permeated the air, filled with the wails of ghosts. His thin body had been pierced through all its major acupoints by eight Soul-Piercing Nails, pinning him to a giant rock like a piece of tattered cloth, barely breathing and trembling slightly.

Lu Buzhuo stood before him, the tip of his blade holding a dripping golden core, his feet standing on an array drawn with his blood.

Warm blood dripped down, soaking his clothes, but it could never warm the pendant around his neck, which always hung against his chest like a piece of ice.

Actually, Shen Zhou couldn’t remember many things.

By forgetting many things, he could continue to live on.

It would have been better if Lu Buzhuo hadn’t become my cultivation partner in this life, he thought. Then I wouldn’t have been deceived again and again, and wouldn’t have been so heartbroken for nothing.

He would continue to forget many things in the future, but he would probably never be able to forget this one thing.

But Shen Zhou had no intention of pursuing the matter.

He just wanted to retrieve the demon core fragment from the puppet’s heart and then leave quietly, as if he had never come to Lesser Hermit Peak. That was all.

And that was all.