Chà Chà Novel

“I’m a mortal, not a cultivator. I can die very easily. Naturally, I have to keep clinging to the strongest protector I can find.”

“So now you’ve chosen me as that strongest protector again?”

“No. I simply want to be with you.”

“…”

Amid the bustle of the hurried crowds, Song Liang approached him, waving his fan, and looked into his face.

“Were you angry when you left because you thought I didn’t take my own life seriously?”

“Heaven and Earth are indifferent. People should cherish life and not treat death lightly.”

“I’m not afraid of dying, but that doesn’t mean I intend to throw my life away. I was simply telling you something frankly, without all those taboos.” Song Liang paused. “But I won’t say things like that so casually again. You don’t seem to like it.”

“…”

Xue Yan walked on.

“That is your affair.”

Song Liang followed, fanning himself.

“Will that Miss Yun Yao become your Dao companion someday?”

Xue Yan’s steps did not falter, but his brows drew together.

“Absurd.”

Song Liang was reminded of the dismissive “What nonsense” that a certain someone had so often said in the previous world. Even during their final decades together, he had still said it frequently—only then, it had come with a helpless sigh before he gathered Song Liang close to kiss and caress him, as though they could never bear to part.

Sometimes Song Liang found it strange. How could someone like him, who grew bored with almost everything so easily, remain interested in one person for so long? Every day, he even found the man more handsome, more endearing. It was truly remarkable.

3085: 【That is the power of love.】

Song Liang: 【You’re a system. What would you know about it?】

3085: 【Emotions are much the same everywhere. Different civilizations merely express them in different forms. I qualify as a highly intelligent life-form, so naturally I have feelings of my own.】

3085: 【Human emotions are also included in our database. Systems predict how small-world storylines will develop through those samples of data, as vast as a sea of stars.】

Song Liang: 【Then do you have a partner?】

3085 choked. 【What would I need one for? People don’t have to be in relationships. Neither do systems.】

Fair enough, Song Liang thought. He had never imagined he would have a partner either. Yet once he fell in love, it had carried him through several worlds—and in every one, he had to court the same man all over again.

He studied the masked profile beside him.

“If you don’t like her, why did you accept her gift?”

Xue Yan stopped and turned toward him.

“Hold out your hand.”

“?”

Puzzled, Song Liang extended his hand. A string of brown bodhi beads settled into his palm, each round and smooth, with a fine luster. One glance was enough to tell that this was no ordinary treasure.

“You are exceptionally gifted, but you lack spiritual roots. Having spiritual energy channeled into your body allows you to wield it temporarily, but repeated use will damage your meridians and your body. It also leaves you vulnerable to treachery. These bodhi beads contain my spiritual energy. Wear them, and you can use it for brief periods without borrowing from anyone else.”

“…”

For a moment, Song Liang was speechless.

“So this is what she gave you?”

“Lent me.”

“Oh. You borrowed this from her for me?”

“I merely wish to keep you from being caught up in the demon’s attacks. This calamity is, after all, one I brought here.”

Looking at his impassive face, Song Liang could not help marveling at how kind—and how easily deceived—his husband truly was. Casting him as a villain in the previous instances had been a terrible injustice.

He could not resist asking:

“Your Venerableness, aren’t you afraid I’ve been lying to you from the very beginning?”

Xue Yan gave him a quiet glance.

“It makes no difference.”

True or false, he feared neither.

Song Liang smiled and slipped the bodhi beads onto his wrist. The familiar spiritual energy within them carried a cool, clear presence, as though Xue Yan were always at his side.

Before leaving, Yun Yao divided the spirit butterfly into three smaller ones and gave them one. Following the tiny creature, the two passed through Xiushui City’s busiest streets, gradually venturing into increasingly secluded quarters where the houses grew ever more dilapidated. Occasionally, an elderly person in ragged clothes shuffled past, casting frightened glances at them.

“This place is quite different from the city center,” Xue Yan said.

“Everywhere has its divisions between rich and poor. Xiushui City is no exception.”

Despite his words, this was Song Liang’s first time seeing such a run-down part of the city. After all, he had only arrived in this world a little over half a month ago and had spent the entire time preoccupied with the man beside him.

“Would the city guards come here to register the residents?”

“…”

Song Liang’s expression briefly faltered.

“Probably not.”

The spirit butterfly fluttered silently onward, finally stopping before the only old house with three successive courtyards among the crumbling dwellings. Its wooden gate was weathered and blackened, as though scorched by fire. A faint, bloody odor seeped through the gap.

Xue Yan stepped forward and pushed it open. Song Liang promptly slipped behind him.

The wooden house was deserted and dimly lit, furnished with only a few battered tables, chairs, and stools. The overpowering stench of assorted bodily waste mingled in the air, nauseating enough to render the faint bloody smell almost unnoticeable.

The reek made Song Liang’s head swim. He immediately buried his face against Xue Yan’s neck. Only when the crisp scent of snow, ice, and greenery filled his nose did he feel alive again.

Xue Yan, however, froze at the warm, damp breath and smooth skin against his neck.

“…Stand up straight!”

“No. It stinks in here. I’m dizzy. I can’t stand.”

Song Liang clung to his shoulders with both hands, refusing to let go. Half his face remained buried in the crook of Xue Yan’s neck as he breathed in his scent and nuzzled closer.

“You smell good. Let me enjoy it.”

Xue Yan’s face darkened under the persistent rubbing. He pulled Song Liang’s hands away, swiftly formed a seal with his free hand, and cast it upon him.

Song Liang was about to protest when he realized he could no longer smell the stench in the house.

“Oh?”

Xue Yan regarded him grimly.

“That is the Breath-Sealing Art. It blocks outside odors.”

Song Liang clicked his tongue.

“Never mind, then. Undo it. I think I can bear the smell a little longer.”

Xue Yan: “…”

Ignoring him, Xue Yan turned toward the room ahead. Song Liang was about to follow when, out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to glimpse someone standing in a corner.

He stopped and turned to look.

There was nothing there.

He did, however, finally understand why the house was so dark. Every window had been boarded shut, the planks nailed so tightly together that not a sliver of light could enter. Only the main room opposite the entrance received any light.

Turning slowly on the spot, he discovered something else.

Xue Yan was gone.

The empty house offered nowhere to hide, yet the man who had been standing only a few steps ahead had vanished. Song Liang was alone.

“Xue Yan?” he called.

No answer.

He called inwardly as well. 【3085?】

His mind was silent.

After a brief pause, Song Liang touched the bodhi beads around his wrist and slowly closed his eyes. That faint bloody odor returned, mingling with the air drifting around him.

He opened his eyes again. The same dim house lay before him, and he was still alone. Yet the faint smell told him something was slowly approaching.

He closed his eyes once more.

A gust carrying that bloody scent suddenly rushed toward his chest. Without hesitation, Song Liang raised his hand and drew on the spiritual energy within the bodhi beads, striking forward.

A dull impact sounded, followed by the noise of something shattering. He immediately opened his eyes, but the scene remained unchanged. The house was the same; even the light had not shifted. By now, however, he understood that everything before him was an illusion.

The bloody wind surged at him again. He was about to summon more spiritual energy when the air behind him suddenly changed.

Something was coming!

Song Liang spun to direct his energy toward it, but an arm caught him around the waist. Warmth settled over his eyelids. A familiar, cool fragrance reached him, followed by an equally familiar low voice—

“Break.”

An invisible barrier abruptly shattered. Song Liang’s vision blurred, and the next instant, 3085’s piercing screams erupted inside his head.

【Host!!! My one and only host!!! My smuggled-in host who didn’t cost me a thing! Wake up—】

Song Liang: “…”

Song Liang: 【Didn’t cost you a thing?】

The screaming cut off.

Song Liang rubbed his temples, only to discover that the scene before him had changed completely. He was not standing in a dim little house at all, but amid the ruins of a wooden building. Before him lay a pit more than ten feet across and roughly a foot deep, piled with severed human limbs. The thick stench of blood choked the air, and even the earth was mottled with patches of dark and faded black.

At the center of the pit, a cluster of skinless, human-shaped monsters—nothing but exposed flesh and blood—writhed on all fours, trying to crawl out. Some had already reached the edge and were grasping for his feet.

Before he could attack again, sword light flashed beside him, reducing the monsters in the pit to dust in an instant.

Xue Yan’s low voice sounded near his ear.

“Awake?”

“What happened to me?”

“You fell under a demon’s illusion. It is one of their specialties.”

“What were those things?”

“Demon thralls. People whose awareness lingers after demons devour their flesh and blood will animate their empty skins, lingering near the demons’ lairs to lure others into becoming food.”

As they spoke, a phoenix’s cry rang out overhead. An enormous image of a ceremonial parasol hovered above another part of Xiushui City—the emblem of the Tianluo Dharma Sect. Clearly, Yun Yao had encountered trouble as well.

Xue Yan’s gaze darkened.

“Yun Yao is already at the late Body Integration stage.”

The highest realm attainable by cultivators in the mortal world was that of a quasi-saint at the late Tribulation Transcendence stage. Below Tribulation Transcendence came Mahayana, and below Mahayana, Body Integration. A late-stage Body Integration cultivator could travel virtually unchallenged throughout the Central Continent. Yet Yun Yao had voluntarily sent up her sect’s emblem to call for help. Whatever she had encountered was clearly far more than an ordinary difficulty.

Xue Yan swept an arm around Song Liang’s waist and soared toward the emblem in the sky.