Ch 63: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

Seeing him staring at the strange mirror without moving, Xu Ce asked: “Brother Mu, what are you doing?”

Mu Xing didn’t even lift his head: “Checking if that fight just now ruined my carefully styled hair.”

Xu Ce: ?

“Just kidding.” Mu Xing casually put the mirror away, smiling as he said, “I have some other matters to deal with, so I won’t be traveling with you two. Find a safe place and heal your wounds first.”

Before the Xu siblings could ask where he was going, Mu Xing’s figure gradually turned into drifting mist, and within a few breaths he had vanished.

Xu Ce couldn’t help but say: “That Brother Mu—even though his cultivation is only early Golden Core, if it came to a duel, I doubt I could win.”

Xu Jiao glanced at her brother and mercilessly retorted: “What do you mean doubt you could win? You wouldn’t have a chance at all, okay? Forget everything else—just that bag of puppets alone could grind us to death.”

The siblings both shivered at the memory of that pouch full of puppet beads.

—

Meanwhile.

Ying Shu’s situation looked a little better than that of the Xu siblings.

He wasn’t even at Golden Core yet—he had only tagged along with his senior brothers and sisters to broaden his horizons. The Heaven’s Secrets Pavilion had assigned three assassins to him, which already showed how much they valued him.

Or rather, how much they valued his status as the young sect heir of the Yudao Immortal Sect.

And it was true: though he was young and weak, as the son of the sect master couple, he carried far more treasures than most cultivators.

But since he was only at Foundation Establishment, many of the magic tools couldn’t be used to their full potential. And the sect master of the Yudao Immortal Sect had an entire sect to run—not like Yue Fubai, who could waste his time lazing about in a refining chamber, making endless puppets for a treasured disciple.

So, Ying Shu was still rather bedraggled.

When he saw Mu Xing, Ying Shu’s eyes lit up: “Brother Mu!”

He didn’t even know how to describe the feeling—he just felt very close to Mu Xing.

He was the Yudao Sect’s little young master, spoiled and adored since childhood, with countless disciples fawning over him.

But he had never found anyone as pleasing to the eye as Mu Xing. Just seeing him made him genuinely happy.

That joy was quickly replaced by alarm as he remembered his current situation. He hurriedly shouted: “Brother Mu, you need to leave! It’s not safe here!”

Mu Xing was a little surprised. He paused and asked: “If I leave, what about you?”

Ying Shu threw out a handful of talismans to temporarily block his pursuers, then took the chance to say: “I still have plenty of treasures. They won’t be able to hurt me. And soon, my senior brothers and sisters will arrive.”

But he didn’t notice that the three people attacking him froze the instant they saw Mu Xing appear. Just as Ying Shu tossed his talismans, the three exchanged a glance—and then directly withdrew.

It took Ying Shu a moment to notice. Perplexed, he said: “Huh? Why did they leave?”

He thought about it, then quickly puffed up with pride and said happily: “They must’ve been scared off by me!”

He ran over to Mu Xing’s side and asked: “How did you get here?”

Before Mu Xing could answer, he asked again: “Back in that peach blossom grove, did you encounter some kind of fortune?”

His eyes sparkled: “Did you get some incredible treasure? Tell me secretly—I won’t tell anyone else.”

Mu Xing raised his brows and drawled: “And why should I tell you?”

Ying Shu froze.

In his short life, he had rarely ever encountered the word no.

He was a little angry, and also a little lost.

Mu Xing asked him: “Can you contact your senior brothers and sisters?”

Ying Shu answered deflatedly: “Yes… My father gave me a secret method. I was planning to wait until I left to join up with them.”

He knew full well he was just here to make up the numbers. His senior brothers and sisters treated him like fragile porcelain. That was why he hadn’t contacted them at first—he wanted to prove himself and find his own opportunity.

Who would’ve thought he’d run into three strange assassins.

Mu Xing didn’t care what little schemes he had. He only reminded him seriously: “When your senior brothers and sisters arrive, stick with them and don’t run off. This place isn’t safe.”

Ying Shu couldn’t help but look up at him: “What about you? Will you stay with us?”

Mu Xing looked puzzled: “Why would I?”

Ying Shu said: “Well… the more people, the safer.”

Mu Xing shook his head: “No. You people from the Yudao Immortal Sect should stick together. What would I tag along for?”

Still, afraid those men might return, he didn’t leave right away, planning instead to stay until he saw Ying Shu safely reunite with his fellow disciples.

After that, it would no longer be his concern.

If Ying Shu could still get into trouble even under the protection of the Yudao Sect’s core disciples…

Mu Xing thought: That would have nothing to do with me.

Ying Shu saw Mu Xing sit himself down on a large rock, close his eyes, and rest without speaking. Unable to resist, he went up to him.

“Hey,” he asked, “do you hate me?”

After a pause, he added: “Do you hate our Yudao Immortal Sect?”

Mu Xing opened his eyes and looked at him calmly: “No. I don’t hate you.”

Ying Shu looked back: “You’re lying. I can feel it. You don’t like me—and you don’t really like my senior brothers and sisters either.”

Mu Xing shook his head: “Not liking isn’t the same as hating. I don’t hate you. I just want to stay far away from your Yudao Sect—without any ties at all.”

This body was given to him by his parents. And so, when they dug out his spiritual root at birth and abandoned him, Mu Xing felt no hatred.

But there could be no other feelings either. These matters had completely severed the bond of parent and child between him and that couple.

As for Ying Shu, he had even less to do with that karma.

Mu Xing was not so petty as to vent his anger on someone completely innocent.

But that was clearly not what Ying Shu wanted to hear.

He couldn’t help but ask: “Why?”

Mu Xing thought, there aren’t so many ‘whys’ in this world. He had no intention of telling Ying Shu about those past events.

Just then, a streak of spiritual light came rushing toward them.

It was disciples of the Yudao Immortal Sect.

Ying Shu called out: “Senior Brother Wei!”

Mu Xing rose and said: “It seems your fellow disciples have arrived. I’ll take my leave.”

Ying Shu turned, wanting to say something. But seeing Mu Xing’s inexplicably distant expression, the words stuck in his throat.

He could only watch as Mu Xing’s figure vanished before his eyes.

Senior Brother Wei noticed his strange look and quickly asked what was wrong, but Ying Shu just shook his head.

When the other disciples of the Yudao Immortal Sect gradually gathered, Ying Shu finally told them what had happened earlier.

At that, everyone broke out in a cold sweat: the sect master had entrusted the young junior brother to them. If anything had happened to him inside the secret realm…

The consequences were unthinkable.

From then on, the Yudao Immortal Sect kept a constant, tight watch on Ying Shu, not daring to relax for a moment, leaving no chance for anyone lurking in the dark to strike.

—

As for Mu Xing, he was now nearly certain: those “rogue cultivators” were people from the Heaven’s Secrets Pavilion.

They were assassinating anyone connected to him.

This method was much like what the “original body” of Mu Xing had experienced in his dreams.

The title of Calamitous Lone Star had been fabricated by the Pavilion Master of Heaven’s Secrets. Once the words had been spoken, Mu Xing could only play the role of that Calamitous Lone Star.

So the Pavilion would strike, erasing everyone around Mu Xing.

At least in the dream, they had succeeded. In the dream, even Mu Xing himself, at the moment of death, firmly believed it—resenting the heavens for being unjust, for giving him such a fate.

“So now you want to play the same trick again?” Mu Xing looked up at the thick forest canopy. Warm sunlight streamed through the gaps, falling into his eyes.

He smiled faintly: “But this time, things are nothing like the dream.”

His closest master was one of the Nine Grandmasters of the Demonic Path. Unless the Pavilion Master of Heaven’s Secrets acted personally, no one could harm him.

His friend Meng Ge was incomparably powerful. Even the Pavilion’s assassins, after weighing their options, had abandoned him as a target.

In that case, how are you going to prove me to be this ‘Calamitous Lone Star’ now?

—

The days that followed were very easy for Mu Xing.

From time to time, he glanced at the situations of the others.

The Xu siblings, perhaps frightened, had become much more low-key, never daring to relax their vigilance. They had even teamed up with two Golden Core cultivators they encountered along the way. The four traveled together; though they often had to give ground in exploration, at least they had a stronger sense of security.

Meng Ge was the same as ever—gods block, gods slain; demons block, demons slain. No one befriended him, but he didn’t need friends.

As for Ying Shu, there was no need to say—he had become the apple of Yudao Immortal Sect’s eye. They wouldn’t allow him to suffer even the slightest danger.

And those strange “rogues”—after failing once, they went utterly quiet, vanishing without a trace.

As for Mu Xing himself, he encountered no particular fortunes within the secret realm.

He had no intention of deliberately exploring or fighting over opportunities—he simply strolled leisurely through the realm.

Thirsty or hungry? His storage ring held plenty of food.

Tired or sleepy? He pulled out his portable house to rest.

And this secret realm was odd—during nearly a month inside, he kept stumbling upon things: a meadow of spirit herbs that were delicious and increased spiritual power; a valley covered in fruits that intoxicated like wine.

He ate a few, got drunk, and fell asleep beneath a tree for two whole days.

When he awoke, a small fawn lay beside him, gazing at him with dewy eyes, calling softly.

So he got up and lazily followed the little deer forward.

One misstep, and he plunged into a lake of sapphire-blue water.

Yet beneath the surface he could breathe. Eyes open, he watched shoals of brilliantly colored fish dart about, playfully brushing his fingertips.

In that serene, beautiful water, Mu Xing closed his eyes, relaxed his body, and drifted into sleep.

He began to dream—dreams of spring and autumn passing, cold and heat coming and going, mountains and rivers and all living things cycling through death and rebirth, over and over again.

Until a bell tolled.

He woke from the dream to find himself still lying beneath the tree.

So it had all just been a dream?

The next instant, the sky split open with a crack, and a force pulled him away, out of the secret realm.

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣