Chapter 273: Reasonable

Chapter 273: Justified

Xiao Wu helped steady Xie Shu out of the courtyard and into the bedchamber, encountering several patrols of demonic cultivators along the way.

Technically, as a captive, Xiao Wu entering the main hall of the Demon Palace without permission was a serious crime. Yet the demonic cultivators pretended not to see him, even clearing a path to let him through.

Xie Chunshan was tall, and as he swayed slightly on the way, like a wriggling cat, Xiao Wu had to struggle to steady him. Several times, he nearly lost his grip, only for Xie Chunshan to clutch at his robes and barely regain his balance.

By the time they arrived, Xiao Wu’s neatly tied sash had inevitably come undone, his belt hanging precariously. Xie Shu wasn't any neater—at a glance, it almost looked as if something had happened between them in the courtyard.

A new demonic cultivator recruit, unfamiliar with the rules, stepped forward to question them, only to be yanked back by an older demonic cultivator and pressed to the ground with a warning: "Don’t stir trouble!"

"But," the new recruit whined, "if the Palace Lord finds out tomorrow that we let an outsider into the main hall, won’t he punish us?"

"Outsider? Who’s the outsider? You’re the damn outsider!" The older demonic cultivator knocked him on the head and hissed, "Shut your mouth! If the Palace Lord learns you stopped them, that’s when we’ll really be in trouble!"

"...Oh."

They obediently crouched under a tree, watching as Lord Pingwu led the Palace Lord into the bedchamber and shut the door behind them.

Xie Shu was thoroughly drunk.

Half-dragged, half-carried to the bed, his outer robes were stripped off and the blankets tucked around him. Though Xie Shu had once helped Xiao Wu out of his own robes, Xiao Wu was far less practiced at the task. By the time he finally settled the drunkard, Lord Pingwu had broken a sweat.

He glanced around but didn’t dare sit on Xie Shu’s bed. Instead, he poured himself a cup of water at the table and looked around the room.

The main hall of the Demon Palace was vast, most of its furnishings made of rosewood and nanmu, intricately carved, with screens and drapes made of the finest materials. Servants kept everything spotless.

Many objects in the room were imbued with mana, no ordinary items. The calming incense by the bed, for instance, was specially refined by alchemists using spiritual fire. Concentrating, Xiao Wu could detect the subtle flow of mana within it.

He closed his eyes, his awareness sweeping inch by inch across the entire chamber.

Most of his doubts had been resolved, but one question still nagged at Xiao Wu to verify:

Was Xie Chunshan truly Song Xiaoyu?

With his eyes shut, undisturbed, he could see the mana trails clearly—from the Sword Manuals and Arts on the bookshelf, to the potted plants, to the spiritual spring water channeled from the back mountain. Xiao Wu paused, his attention settling on a sandalwood box in the bookcase.

There was a familiar mana signature.

Xiao Wu walked over.

No one dared to touch the Palace Lord’s belongings, so the box wasn’t even locked. He lightly tapped the golden clasp, and without any force, the lid sprang open.

Xiao Wu lowered his gaze and took out what was inside.

A talisman drawn in cinnabar on yellow paper, and a scrap of patterned fabric. The talisman was a Supreme Clarity Heart-Calming Charm, and the fabric’s cloud motif belonged to the Shangling Sect.

The talisman was a charm he had drawn himself, and the fabric had been cut from his own sleeve.

Xiao Wu pressed his lips together, returning the items to the box but leaving it open, staring at them for a long while.

Though he had long suspected, seeing the evidence laid bare still moved him.

From the very first day he entered the Demon Palace, Song Xiaoyu had been there.

When he was doubled over in pain, having gone days without food or water, it was that youth who brought a meal box and fed him spoonfuls of sweet congee. When he was too weak to walk, his body limp, it was that youth who supported him, helping him walk laps around the courtyard. When he caught a chill and coughed, it was that youth who placed a hand on his back, rubbing his back to soothe him.

What if that youth was Xie Chunshan?

Xiao Wu’s mind kept wandering.

What kind of position would that even be?

Xie Chunshan blowing to cool the porridge before holding it to his lips, cradling him halfway in his arms, reaching out to gently stroke his back.

When the young man did those things, Xiao Wu had simply taken it as hero worship for a cultivator. But what if it was Xie Chunshan?

The Palace Lord of Wuwang wasn’t some naive kid. Given Xie Chunshan's devil-may-care charm, the mere thought of that scene made Xiao Wu burn with secondhand embarrassment.

His fingertips brushed over the sandalwood box, rubbing it over and over as if trying to buff the wood to a shine. After a long while, he suddenly muttered under his breath, "...Xie Chunshan?"

Xie Shu, half-asleep, faintly heard someone call his screen name and let out a sleepy grunt.

Lost in thought, Xiao Wu had forgotten the man himself was still lying there. Snapped out of his daze by the sound, his hands moved swiftly—snap!—shutting the wooden box.

In the silent room, the noise was deafeningly loud. Xiao Wu stiffened, slowly turning his head.

He heard a faint rustling from the bed.

Had Xie Chunshan woken?

Rummaging through someone else's belongings in their own room was terribly ill-mannered—even if those things had once been his own. It went entirely against Lord Pingwu's usual conduct. He fumbled, suddenly hyperaware of his limbs, backpedaling like a guilty kid. In the cramped space, he even employed the Shangling Sect's movement Art, putting a quick three feet between them in an instant, putting as much distance between himself and the bookshelf as possible.

Holding his breath, Xiao Wu peered toward the bed.

Wuwang Palace was built in luxury, and the Palace Lord's sleeping quarters were even more extravagant. Xie Chunshan's bed was draped with three layers of curtains, and outside stood a three-paneled sandalwood screen inlaid with mother-of-pearl. From the desk, not a damn thing was visible inside.

Holding his breath, Xiao Wu listened hard for any movement.

The room was silent. No sound.

Xiao Wu stepped forward, moving behind the screen. Carefully, he lifted a corner of the bed curtain and looked inside.

—Hell, *he* was the one who’d carried Xie Chunshan here and settled him in, so why was he being so cautious now?

Xie Chunshan lay peacefully on the bed, still asleep.

Xiao Wu ventured softly, "Xie Chunshan?"

As he spoke, his gaze flicked to the windows—left wide open during the day for ventilation. With his current cultivation, Xiao Wu could easily dart out through them before the slumbering Xie Chunshan even stirred, leaping across leaves and blossoms all the way back to his own quarters, pretending he had never been here.

Fortunately, Xie Chunshan was still dead to the world. "Hmm... here."

"..."

On impulse, Xiao Wu murmured, "Xiao Yu."

Not a question—a statement.

These days, Xiao Wu had said the name "Xiao Yu" a solid thousand times, easy. Xie Shu was long familiar with it, so familiar that even though it wasn't his real name, the tone and inflection had been drilled into him. Eyes still closed, he replied, "Hmm, here."

"..."

Xiao Wu paused for a long moment before finally letting out a long breath.

In the end, he closed the windows, shutting out the light, and stepped out of the bedroom.

*

The next morning, Xie Shu and 66 woke up together.

Xie Shu had a hangover, his forehead throbbing with pain. System 66 had tried a sip of Peach Blossom Wine the day before and was sprawled out dead asleep. Master and system groggily got up to wash, with Xie Shu rescuing 66, who nearly face-planted into the washbasin. From a distance, he spotted someone kneeling in the courtyard.

Xie Shu squinted—wasn’t that Sovereign Xue?

A fresh wave of headache hit him.

What was this guy doing playing sentry at his door instead of sleeping in at this hour?

Xue Sui's stomach was in knots.

As the palace’s patrol inspector, allowing Lord Pingwu to leave and return without reporting was a major screw-up.

Though Lord Pingwu and the Palace Lord had some... complicated history, negligence was negligence. Trying to weasel out of punishment in front of the Palace Lord would only make things worse.

Yesterday, the Palace Lord had been too busy drowning his sorrows to hold him accountable, but that was yesterday. Everyone knew the Lord of Wuwang Palace was unpredictable—smiling one moment, then lopping heads off before you could blink for some unknown offense. As the absolute center of power in the palace, he needed no reason, no restraint, ruling by pure whim. Xue Sui didn’t want old grievances dug up later.

With Lord Pingwu’s return lifting the Palace Lord’s mood, now was his best chance to fess up and hope for lighter punishment.

Xie Shu strolled into the courtyard, and Xue Sui scrambled forward on his knees, kowtowing. "I beg the Palace Lord to punish me."

Xie Shu: "For what?"

Xue Sui: "Yesterday, Lord Pingwu went to Hundred-Step Pavilion to enjoy the scenery. I went to relay the message but mistakenly assumed he had left and reported inaccurately. I await your judgment."

These demonic cultivators were masters at sugarcoating their screw-ups. With a bit of verbal finesse, dereliction of duty became a mere miscommunication, at least cutting the punishment in half.

Xie Shu’s brow twitched. "Xiao Wu is back?"

66, perched on his shoulder like a drunk parrot: "What?"

—Didn’t Lord Pingwu leave?

"Uh…" Xue Sui blanked for a second before whispering, "Lord Pingwu returned yesterday. It was he who helped you back from the courtyard."

Xie Shu’s brow jumped several times. "He brought me back?"

66 raised its voice: "What?!"

Quick as Xie Shu was and dense as 66 was, both sensed something amiss immediately.

First, Xiao Wu’s cultivation had mostly recovered—he should have fled far beyond Wuwang Palace’s confines. Having reached Hundred-Step Pavilion, why didn’t he leave?

Second, Xiao Wu and Xie Chunshan were sworn enemies - one righteous, one wicked, with "Song Xiaoyu’s" life only adding fuel to their blood feud. Given the chance, Xiao Wu should have run Xie Chunshan through without a second thought. If he was right there while Xie Chunshan was drunk, why didn’t he strike?

66 looked completely lost. "What’s going on, Su Zhu?"

Xie Shu wanted to say, *You’re asking me?* But the system pouted, its eyes welling up, and Xie Shu paused for three seconds before theorizing, "Maybe his cultivation isn’t strong enough yet to leave from Hundred-Step Pavilion. He might’ve just been scouting the terrain."

Though Xie Shu had mastered his Arts well, he wasn’t a native cultivator—his power came from system hacks. He wasn’t familiar with the exact capabilities of each cultivation level. Hundred-Step Pavilion’s cliffs were a thousand feet high; one wrong step meant certain death.

66 grudgingly bought this explanation, but as a system that had followed multiple wayward hosts, it was more concerned with another detail.

"Why did he bring you back to your room from the courtyard? Couldn’t he have left you somewhere else?"

Xie Shu froze.

That was the million-dollar question.

But his memory of the previous night was blacked out from drinking. After a moment’s thought, he didn’t press Xue Sui further, gesturing for him to rise. "So, Lord Pingwu brought me back to the palace yesterday?"

Xue Sui: "...Huh?!"

—He was fully prepared to get skinned alive, but this was your main concern?

Sovereign Xue looked downright baffled.

Xie Shu: "How did he bring me back?"

Xue Sui understood.

He ventured cautiously: "...Kind of dragged, kind of carried?"

Xie Shu frowned slightly.

Seeing his expression, Xue Sui shuddered. Under the immense pressure, he hurriedly racked his brain for details and began babbling in panic: "Ah, allow your humble servant to recall—at the time, the Immortal Lord had one arm around your waist and the other supporting your shoulder. You staggered drunkenly, swaying sideways several times, but despite his exasperation, the Immortal Lord steadied you properly. Oh, and then you tugged loose his belt, and he grabbed your sleeve. The two of you, one in black and the other in white, all tangled up—I mean, point is, you two looked absolutely perfect together, a match made in heaven—"

"..."

—One in black, one in white? More like the damned Grim Reapers.

Demonic cultivators were always a bunch of illiterates. Xie Shu's eyebrow twitched as he forgave his dim-witted underling.

He cut in: "...That’s not what I was asking. I meant, why was it Lord Pingwu who brought me back?"

"Ah, right." Xue Sui fumbled for words. "When we found Lord Pingwu, I told him the Palace Lord had prepared food and drink and was waiting for him. Then Lord Pingwu went inside, and I stood guard outside. I don’t know what happened within, but not long after, Lord Pingwu came out with you and hauled you back to the hall."

Xie Shu relaxed a little.

That made sense.

Xiao Wu’s cultivation wasn’t strong enough to leave the palace, so when Xue Sui relayed the Palace Lord’s summons, he had no choice but to obey. Later, with Xue Sui guarding the door, no matter how much Xiao Wu hated it, he had to wait until Xie Chunshan finished eating. And with demonic cultivators patrolling the entire way, Xiao Wu could only obediently bring Xie Chunshan back to the hall.

Xie Shu nodded. "A bit roundabout, but it checks out."

The logic was clear, the progression natural. 66 threw up a fist and whooped: "Reasonable!"