Chapter 105

Song Qingshi had spent many years in this world.

The Netherfire within him grew with his cultivation. To better suppress the toxic flames, he abandoned his original cultivation technique and switched to the Frost Jade Technique. He also had to treat the injuries Wu Huan accumulated from constant battles.

Thus, by the time Wu Huan was challenging Nascent Soul Cultivators everywhere, Song Qingshi had only just reached the Golden Core stage.

The world of Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign contained many rare medicinal herbs that would later go extinct. Wu Huan, noticing Song Qingshi's fondness for collecting them, often sought out rare herbs and unusual formulas to gift him, posing intriguing questions that always hooked his insatiable curiosity and lured him into deep research.

Song Qingshi felt like a dumb cat lured by a cat toy. Every time he tried to climb out of the research pit to search for Qu Yurong and complete his mission, Wu Huan would dangle something even more fascinating in front of him, causing him to tumble back into the pit, lost in excitement, engrossed in his studies—until he forgot about the mission entirely.

Life was good.

He witnessed Wu Huan's growth—from an ordinary mortal to the renowned Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign of the cultivation world, wielding a three-foot sword gleaming coldly, his eyes allowing no impurity, slaying countless wicked cultivators... His actions forced the righteous sects of the cultivation world to change their rules, no longer allowing mortals at the Foundation Establishment stage to be used as slaves or cultivation furnaces.

But Wu Huan wanted more...

More than once, he told Song Qingshi, "I wish mortals could have the same opportunities as cultivators. But this world is too rotten, reeking of filth—it's impossible to clean it all up. Qing Shi, can you smell the rot in the air?"

Perhaps because he had once been blind, Wu Huan's sense of smell was far keener than most. He often felt discomfort, unable to adapt to the stench. After spending too long outside, he would return to inhale his Dao Companion's clean scent to soothe himself.

Song Qingshi shook his head—his senses were dull, and he couldn't smell anything.

Wu Huan loved bringing him gifts—not just herbs and prescriptions, but also sparkling trinkets... Whenever he saw beautiful stones or gems, he would find a way to obtain them and stuff them into Song Qingshi's arms. Eventually, Song Qingshi amassed a large box full of jewels and ornaments—dragon-scale jade, siren pearls, spirit fairy jade...

As Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's reputation for slaughter spread, Wu Huan's beauty also gradually became known—his talent unrivaled, his grace unparalleled, his bearing noble... The most promising Sword Cultivator to forge a Heart Sword, countless praises were heaped upon him, and countless admiring gazes followed him.

Many self-proclaimed beauties boldly confessed their feelings or vied for his attention.

Wu Huan detested such attention. Stoic and unsmiling, he would coldly reject these nuisances by showing the Dao Companion Mark on his hand. All his tenderness was reserved for the man in Peach Blossom Valley. Only when he saw Song Qingshi would he smile, his dark golden phoenix eyes shimmering like a sky full of stars, radiant as the Milky Way.

The master of the Pearl Jade Pavilion, a connoisseur of beauty, once caught a glimpse of Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's smile and never recovered from it, declaring that all other beauties in the world paled in comparison.

Upon hearing such praise, Wu Huan began wearing a partial mask to shield himself from curious and covetous gazes. Over time, the cultivation world learned that Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's heart and eyes held nothing but his sword and his Dao Companion.

He would venture into dangerous secret realms to gather herbs, present rare treasures as gifts, study oddities, and do all sorts of foolish acts that powerful cultivators disdained—all just to make his Dao Companion smile. Song Qingshi, however, lived a secluded life, rarely interacting with outsiders, so few knew of him...

At first, everyone assumed that the Dao Companion cherished by Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign must be an outstanding cultivator from a prestigious family. But when they finally saw Song Qingshi...

Hah—a mute?

Song Qingshi was passably handsome, but in a world teeming with beauties, his appearance was nothing special—certainly unworthy of Wu Huan's peerless beauty. His cultivation was only at the Golden Core stage, and he spent his days buried in alchemy, his personality quirky and forgettable. Not only was there nothing extraordinary about him, but he was also physically disabled. How had he ensnared Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign so completely that Wu Huan would forsake countless beauties offering themselves to him, willingly imprinting a soul-bound vow for lifetimes?

Wu Huan keenly sensed this malice and despised it. Not only did he deal with several bold fools, but he also repeatedly explained that his Dao Companion had been with him since his humble beginnings and had saved his life. The more moved people were by his devotion, the more they secretly resented it, convinced that Song Qingshi was unworthy—just lucky. But with Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign fiercely protective of his Dao Companion, their dissatisfaction was useless. They could only offer empty congratulations...

Song Qingshi, socially clueless and preoccupied with research and missions, remained oblivious to these undercurrents. Occasionally, beautiful cultivators would approach him behind Wu Huan's back, speaking gently and kindly, asking how he had seduced Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign. Could he teach them? Or was he exceptionally skilled in bed, leaving Wu Huan utterly bewitched?

Thinking that those willing to chat with a mute must be kind-hearted, he thought hard before answering with pen and paper:

1. Mo Yuan says I'm perfect in every way. He loves it most when I study diligently. If you study hard, you might attract him too.

2. I’ve carefully read and researched books on bedroom techniques. Mo Yuan praised me for learning well and leaving him unable to resist.

And then... that was it.

For some reason, the beauties flounced away angrily, calling him shameless and vowing never to speak to him again.

Song Qingshi suspected he had answered incorrectly and felt a little wronged.

As rumors spread, Wu Huan found himself bewildered by the sudden surge of people reading books in his presence. After learning the reason, he was both exasperated and amused, treating these admirers with even colder indifference. At home, he thoroughly tested Song Qingshi's understanding of the so-called "bedroom technique" books, demanding a hands-on test.

Song Qingshi took the exam seriously, applying all the knowledge he had studied. After several rounds in different "exam rooms," he felt he could score at least an A-minus.

The lost ten points were due to his inability to speak and answer questions during the process—a slight regret.

...

Song Qingshi lived happily, and Wu Huan grew increasingly content.

Then came the Demon Subjugation War.

A blood moon suddenly appeared in the sky, stirring demonic energy and awakening all traces of demon blood, turning those affected into frenzied monsters. In the cultivation world, pure-blooded cultivators were rare—most had mixed lineages, carrying traces of demon, mortal, or even demonic ancestry...

Normally, a cultivator with a trace of demon blood might be slightly colder in temperament but wouldn’t lose their sanity like half-demons. The issue was minor. After generations of intermarriage, no one could be certain if they carried demon blood.

But after the night of the blood moon, this demonic heritage began to erupt.

Some woke to find their wives transformed into man-eating monsters. Lovers who had been "whispering sweet nothings" one moment would have their hearts ripped out the next. Masters killed disciples; disciples slaughtered masters. Demons, driven by desire and instinct, committed taboo horrors. Chaos spread, and the cultivation world grew paranoid, distrusting even those closest to them.

Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's status as a mortal earned him universal trust and respect.

He slew countless demons, becoming a hero of the Demon Subjugation War.

Song Qingshi realized this was the turning point in history, but he couldn’t stop the unfolding events. Everyone was dragged into the conflict.

Wu Huan was not one to retreat in the face of adversity. A perfectionist with dreams and ambitions, he sought to challenge powerful foes, advance his swordsmanship, and prove his worth to the world—and to his Dao Companion.

Song Qingshi, being a man himself, understood this drive. Recognizing that Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's participation in the war was an unavoidable part of the narrative, he joined the healer corps, hoping to alter the tragic outcome—or at least ensure a better ending within the confines of the formation.

It was during this time that he found Qu Yurong.

Over the years, Qu Yurong had been passed between countless men, reduced to a toy for lust—mindless, shameless, and unresisting. In peaceful times, he had been a pampered canary in a "gilded cage," living a "happy" life under someone's care. But now, amid chaos and darkness, with everyone under immense pressure, the weak became easy targets for venting rage. He didn’t even understand why he was treated this way, weeping daily...

Qu Yurong's condition was severe, deeply dependent on carnal pleasures and his so-called "lovers."

Song Qingshi went to great lengths to bring him under his care for psychological treatment. Qu Yurong, misunderstanding his intentions, caused many cringe-worthy misunderstandings.

Not long after, Qu Yurong accidentally discovered the truth behind his family's massacre among Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's collected records. Learning that one of his "lovers" was the very culprit who had destroyed the Qu family, he awoke from his stupor. Seizing the chance while Mo Yuan was away demon-slaying and Song Qingshi was busy refining pills, he steeled himself to escape, luring the man onto the battlefield and pushing him into a horde of demons—perishing together.

By the time Song Qingshi realized what had happened, it was too late. He rushed to save him, but there was no time.

Qu Yurong died with a smile, saying, "Thank you. It’s alright. My life had no meaning."

In Song Qingshi's mind, the words "MISSION FAILED. PUNISHMENT INCOMING" appeared.

Black spots began spreading across his face, his spiritual energy spiraled out of control, and the Netherfire raged out of control—black toxic flames engulfing everything around him...

In such a volatile time, his transformation was mistaken for demonic possession.

He gestured frantically, trying to explain that he was still sane, free of murderous intent, and that the marks were merely a side effect of his failed mission. He just needed time to stabilize his energy and regain control of the Netherfire. But no one would listen to a mute covered in deadly toxins. Fueled by jealousy, disgust, and hatred, they executed the "abomination" before Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign could return.

The only mercy was... this was a formation crafted from Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign's memories. Unable to bear harming the one he loved, he extracted Song Qingshi from the agony before the final blow. What followed, Song Qingshi observed from above, felt like watching a faded memory—one with an unhappy ending.

Mo Yuan Sword Sovereign, having slain countless demons and protected many cities, returned triumphant amid praise, carrying the world's most exquisite flawless ruby to gift his beloved. Instead, he found his Dao Companion—barely alive, pierced by countless strikes from spiritual weapons...

Everyone rushed to explain, to crow about their deeds, boasting about killing this "venomous demon."

Wu Huan heard none of it. He charged blindly toward the blood-soaked figure...

The youth saw him, and the Netherfire receded, yielding to him.

From beginning to end, the toxic flames harmed no one.

Everyone fell silent, realizing no monster could show such restraint—yet the irreparable mistake had already been made.

Wu Huan held the boy whose body was growing colder, tried everything to pull his fading life back, but all in vain.

Tears fell drop by drop onto the boy's face.

Yet the boy could no longer lift his hand to write words of comfort. Desperate, he fought to express what he felt. With great effort, he opened his mouth and, pushing past his fear at last, uttered the most important name of his life: "Wu... Wu Huan..."

He had learned to speak. There was so much in his heart—so much love he wanted to say—but it was too late.

For the last time, the boy held his hand until it went cold.

The nightmare consumed him, and he never woke again…