Mo Xuanli had always regarded Qian Yue as a friend. Thinking the incubus had taken advantage of him, he flew into a rage. “You actually dared to—! Still clinging to him, even now?!”
The incubus, who’d been blushing in shame, saw their expressions then heard Mo Xuanli’s furious accusation and gnashed his teeth, his face going bright red.
Judging by his look of humiliation, he clearly hadn’t wanted it either. “Who’s clinging to whom?! I’m only doing it to stay alive! Otherwise, why would I care where that blockheaded monk goes to die!”
“To stay alive? Qian Yue is stronger than you, you think he needs you to protect him? Wandering around the cultivation realm like this, you’re more likely to get him killed! Who would believe your excuse of ‘staying alive’?” Mo Xuanli said suspiciously.
But Gu Baiqing suddenly stiffened.
Wait.
Why did this whole situation feel so familiar…?
The incubus looked utterly reluctant, clearly forced to come seek out Qian Yue. And that nearly-closed red mark on his wrist… it seemed that their bond was not just a shared lifeline, there might be other reasons that compelled the incubus to follow Qian Yue. Could it be… what he was thinking?
In the original text, the master and disciple had been tricked by Mo Xuanli into dual cultivation. Gu Baiqing had always believed such melodramatic, contrived spells couldn’t truly exist. But… could there really be a similar curse here, causing almost the same situation?
Gu Baiqing didn’t even dare imagine it. He had thought sparing Qian Yue from dying at Mo Xuanli’s hands counted as saving his life, yet now, could this situation be even worse for the monk?
“You two…” The incubus was speechless, glaring angrily at Mo Xuanli.
Mo Xuanli couldn’t be bothered to argue; he was about to seize the incubus and drag him back to the Dragon Palace.
But just then, strange mist surged up beneath the incubus’s feet, clearly, he hadn’t been powerless at all, only biding his time and gathering strength.
Gu Baiqing, wary of the incubus’s tricks, instantly pulled Mo Xuanli back, avoiding the mist. At the same time, Mo Xuanli raised his divine whip, transformed from God Nine Transformations, to try and bind the incubus.
The whip did catch something but when the mist cleared, it turned out to be only a wooden substitute doll.
And the moment Mo Xuanli pulled it close, the puppet exploded, sending a burst of green smoke straight toward his face.
“Xuanli!” Gu Baiqing was startled and stepped forward, but when he remembered it was a incubus’s attack, he halted abruptly. Just as he was about to ask if Mo Xuanli was all right, the man suddenly lunged out of the smoke like a predator, seizing Gu Baiqing tightly in his arms.
“Master, I…” Mo Xuanli’s entire body trembled, flushed and feverish, he’d clearly been affected.
Gu Baiqing nearly cursed aloud. This despicable trick again!
Now chasing after the incubus was out of the question.
As he was thinking that, Mo Xuanli suddenly lost control, trying to press Gu Baiqing against the wall and lean down to kiss him.
Gu Baiqing wasn’t about to indulge him. A bolt of lightning struck down immediately, meant to jolt Mo Xuanli sober.
Fortunately, the spell the incubus had cast in haste wasn’t complicated; one thunder strike was enough to break it.
The flush faded from Mo Xuanli’s face, his breathing steadied, the restlessness subsiding.
But right now, Mo Xuanli was still pressing Gu Baiqing tightly against the wall. In the quiet, narrow alley, even without the incubus’s spell, he found it hard to restrain himself: the cool scent of plum blossoms from his master’s robes, the faint chill of his skin, and in the chaos just now, his hand had already slipped into his master’s sleeve, brushing against the smooth skin of his inner arm. He really didn’t want to let go…
“Still not awake?!” Gu Baiqing’s cold voice cut through his daze, lightning gathering again.
But Mo Xuanli, perhaps feeling reckless now, thought so what if I get shocked? When else will I ever get to hold him like this?
Just then, a voice came from the mouth of the alley:
“Hey! Broad daylight, public street, could you two maybe take it somewhere else?”
Gu Baiqing turned his head and saw Junhua standing there, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
She’d been drawn over by the lightning, thinking something serious had happened, only to find the master and disciple tangled up indecently. Her eyes practically hurt. Were they here to help or to have a rendezvous?
Interrupted, Mo Xuanli had no choice but to release Gu Baiqing and lower his head in apology.
Gu Baiqing straightened his rumpled clothes, face dark, and said to Junhua, “Don’t misunderstand. We ran into a incubus, Xuanli was under a spell.”
Junhua’s expression immediately grew serious. She frowned. “Another demon? Are they still targeting our merfolk?”
“I suspect… this time, it’s not about your people,” Gu Baiqing said gravely.
The incubus was long gone without a trace, impossible to track or guard against. Luckily, Qian Yue was safe within the Dragon Palace. For now, they could only focus on their task. Before long, they accompanied Junhua to capture the Beast Manor’s agents outside the city. Under interrogation, the culprits gave up several clues that could help Junhua find her kin. Some progress, at least.
That evening, as they returned, Mo Xuanli hesitated. “Master, about later…”
The matter between the incubus and Qian Yue was still just speculation, but even so, it wasn’t something they could easily ask about. From Qian Yue’s attitude, it was clear that anything involving the demon realm was something he wanted to shoulder alone, he wouldn’t even involve his own sect, let alone two outsiders.
Bringing it up would only tear open his wounds. Mo Xuanli didn’t know what to do.
But Gu Baiqing thought Qian Yue should at least be warned, the incubus had come here.
So when they met Qian Yue later, they mentioned the encounter casually. Sure enough, Qian Yue’s brows twitched slightly, his expression darkening.
But he said nothing, not even to ask them to spare the incubus next time. It was as if the “shared lifeline” the demon spoke of had been a lie. Or perhaps… he simply didn’t care if his life could be taken by another at any moment.
Still, Mo Xuanli noticed, after just one day, the red mark on Qian Yue’s wrist had almost closed up completely.
Qian Yue clearly didn’t want them to know, and he wouldn’t seek help on his own, so they couldn’t pry. Instead, Qian Yue asked about the sensing of the Godslayer Sword fragments. He seemed to be preparing to leave.
Mo Xuanli tried to meditate and sense the fragments’ presence; for now, he could only detect a direction: east. Where the fragments lay, there would surely be signs, unless something with stronger spiritual energy was suppressing them.
Having a direction was something. Qian Yue said he’d go search and contact them later, it seemed he intended to hand over any fragments he found to Mo Xuanli.
That thought made Mo Xuanli want to help him even more, but faced with such an unmentionable issue and someone like Qian Yue, it left him with a pounding headache.
That night, as Qian Yue sat cross-legged in meditation, he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. His whole body trembled, as if being scorched alive. He clenched his jaw, his cold, stoic features twisted in silent struggle yet large beads of sweat still rolled down his handsome face.
It seemed that no matter how many times he recited the Heart-Cleansing Mantra, it was useless.
Shame and anger churned within Qian Yue, yet there was nothing he could do. Lowering his head, he looked at his wrist, the red mark there was nearly closed.
He still couldn’t die. Though he had already betrayed the Buddha, he could not die so meaninglessly. If he must die, it should at least be for something that benefits the world.
Qian Yue pushed himself upright, intending to leave.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept in, carrying demonic energy. A familiar figure appeared before him.
Qian Yue lifted his eyes to the newcomer.
“D*mn monk, you trying to get yourself killed? Don’t drag me down with you!” The incubus rushed forward with a punch, only to have his wrist caught mid-air by Qian Yue.
The instant their hands met, both of them shuddered. The restlessness in their bodies seemed to ease, and some of the heat dissipated.
The incubus exploded in fury. “I just don’t get you! What’s so hard about working with me? You think I want this? If I don’t meet you before the curse activates, the backlash could kill us both! Don’t make it sound like I’m clinging to you out of obsession, I’ve got zero interest in you, you d*mned bald donkey!”
Qian Yue frowned at him. “When the time comes, I’ll find you naturally. Coming here, aren’t you afraid of being caught again?”
He could already feel his body slipping out of control; his grip on the incubus’s hand was weakening.
That only enraged the incubus further. As if he were the impatient one! It wasn’t that he was eager, he simply didn’t have Qian Yue’s level of restraint. The curse was driving him to the brink of madness.
“My life’s hanging by a thread, you think I’ve got the luxury to care about anything else? And anyway, they’re your friends. Unless they don’t care whether you live or die, what am I supposed to be afraid of?” the incubus sneered. “Oh, right, you are afraid. Afraid people will find out you’ve gotten tangled up with a demon and tainted that oh-so-pure Buddhist heart of yours!”
Qian Yue’s expression grew darker, more feral. Facing the incubus, his mind could no longer remain calm: anger, irritation, and impulse all roiled up uncontrollably.
The incubus glared back just as fiercely. He was the one who should be furious! Was there any demon in the world more wretched than him? He’d captured a monk from Wuxiang Temple as a test subject, only to end up shooting himself in the foot, offending a saintess and now having his own life tied to someone else’s belt.
He was a incubus, supposed to be debauched and free-spirited, yet who knew that he’d never actually touched anyone, man or woman? He only liked teasing, toying with people from a distance. And his first time… he’d nearly died under this d*mned monk.
When Qian Yue regained his senses, the monk had acted as though he’d been defiled, ready to slit his own throat in penance.
All that talk about being untainted by desire, detached from the mortal world where had all that Buddhist purity gone when it really mattered?
And the worst part, he couldn’t even win against the d*mned monk! He was forced to yield every time, over and over, and the dual-cultivation curse only benefited the monk, not him. His own cultivation had stagnated, while the monk’s spiritual power soared. It was enough to make him cough blood in frustration!
“Just you wait. Once I find a way to break this curse, I’ll kill you first!” the incubus snarled.
But his eyes were red at the corners, as if he were about to cry from anger, a sight that stirred the worst kind of memories in Qian Yue. The incubus always acted flirtatious and confident, yet in those moments his eyes would flush scarlet, tears spilling down despite his stubborn denials. The more he refused to admit it, the deeper Qian Yue’s resentment grew, his movements harsher, driven by a dark, vengeful impulse. Some twisted part of him wanted to see this infuriating demon cry harder, beg for mercy, whimper “it hurts,” “be gentle,” “enough.”
And under the curse’s influence, that forbidden pleasure carved into Qian Yue a crushing sense of guilt, the sin of betraying his Buddha-heart.
Now, seeing that same look again shattered the last thread of restraint in Qian Yue’s mind.
It was like a still pond struck by a single stone, all at once, ripples surged. In the end, he still lost to the curse’s pull.
Before the incubus could finish cursing him out, Qian Yue’s grip tightened and he flung the demon onto the bed.
The incubus barely had time to snarl before the familiar weight pinned him down again as if his body surrendered to Qian Yue’s aura before his mind could resist. Even when he wanted to yell, his body went limp out of habit.
“D*mn monk, you—”
“Shut up. There are stronger people nearby. If you don’t want to be caught, keep quiet.”
But before he could finish, a strangled cry escaped the incubus’s throat.
“…You d*mned bald donkey! Can’t you be gentler? After all these times, do you still not know how? No talent at all, you should just let me—”
The incubus suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling the rest into muffled fragments.
His damp eyes glared viciously up at Qian Yue, metal claws raking bloody lines down his back. But Qian Yue only stared fixedly at his face, those rose-tinted eyes, growing dazed, a trace of pleading flickering through them.
Something in Qian Yue’s heart wavered: confusion, or maybe despair.
—
By the next morning, the bed curtains lifted. Qian Yue stepped out, face cold, and slowly picked up his monk’s robe from the floor, putting it on neatly. From behind the curtains, a limp hand hung down.
“Could’ve just kept the mark from closing once in a while, but no, you had to drag it out till the last moment. The rebound from all that suppression nearly killed me! I swear you’re doing this on purpose!” the incubus rasped angrily, his voice hoarse and broken.
He hadn’t wanted it this way either but maintaining the bond occasionally was better than bottling it up until it exploded. Yet this d*mned monk always acted all righteous and unwilling, only to unleash it all at once when he couldn’t suppress it anymore. The incubus could barely take the strain.
He might look merciful on the surface, but who would’ve thought in bed, the monk was a merciless beast. Sometimes the incubus wondered if Qian Yue did it deliberately, as payback.
Qian Yue, however, didn’t argue a word. Without the curse’s influence, he was once again the cold, ascetic monk: detached, silent, untouched by desire.
“You should leave.” Qian Yue said coldly. But just as the words left his mouth, he instinctively turned his head, sure enough, a pillow came flying straight at him.
The incubus scrambled up in disarray, body still aching from the lingering heat just moments before. That d*mned man actually wanted him to leave now?
Qian Yue picked up the pillow to put it back, only to see the incubus looking as if he were about to faint from rage. He wasn’t wearing any clothes, yet there were no marks on him save for the bruised purple-green prints around his waist and abdomen.
Qian Yue’s gaze flickered. “You still want to stay?”
The incubus felt all his elegance and self-restraint crumble into dust. “You f***ing try going all night and see if you can still move in the morning! Your technique’s that bad!”
Qian Yue didn’t answer. His brows creased slightly; he didn’t even want to face the incubus. Instead, he turned and walked straight out the door, leaving behind only, “If you’re not afraid of dying, then stay.”
The incubus slammed his fists against the bed in fury. He truly couldn’t move. Petulantly, he collapsed and went back to sleep, whatever. Everyone here was Qian Yue’s friend; they wouldn’t kill him. And if he were caught, he’d make sure Qian Yue lost all face for it. D*mn monk!
