Chapter 481 – My Master Is Not Human – It’s an Immortal (27)
What seemed to be a conspiracy targeting Bai Tang and Pei Boyi spread rapidly after rumors emerged that the two had fallen into demonic cultivation. Starting from smaller sects and gradually reaching the major ones, many disciples with lower cultivation levels began falling into demonic corruption.
Some succumbed while cultivating, some were attacked by demonic cultivators while traveling and forced onto the demonic path, while others were targeted by hidden infiltrators within their own sects. Demonic cultivators normally killed and looted for treasures—unless one’s strength was overwhelming, encountering a demonic cultivator usually meant certain death.
Yet this time, not a single victim had been directly killed. Those who died had either committed suicide after failing to accept reality or perished because they could not survive the process of demonic corruption. As a result, everyone became even more convinced that this was a scheme orchestrated by the demonic path. Even if Bai Tang was not the mastermind, they believed he could not possibly be unrelated to it.
The so-called righteous sects had stood on their moral high ground for far too long. Some powerful cultivators had begun to look down upon ordinary people and cultivators weaker than themselves from the bottom of their hearts. When those at the top set a crooked example, those below naturally followed. Training under arrogant and self-important seniors, the outcome was obvious—the next generation they raised would only grow even more prejudiced against cultivators outside their own sect.
Unable to admit their own incompetence in failing to catch the real culprit, they pushed all blame onto the demonic cultivators who stood on the opposite side. And since the news of Bai Tang’s fall into demonic cultivation had happened to spread at this exact moment, they seized him as the perfect outlet for their anger and dumped all their resentment onto him.
If not for him, how could the demonic cultivators know the defensive arrangements of the righteous sects?
If not for him, how could they have found weaknesses in their defenses and infiltrated the sects to strengthen their own forces?
If not for him, their sects would never have suffered such severe losses.
The Le’an Immortal Sect became the target of public criticism. Every day, sects large and small came to “visit,” demanding that they hand over Bai Tang.
But how could a sect with a thousand-year foundation be easy to provoke?
At first, Sect Master Siyuan still tried to persuade them patiently. However, the visitors grew increasingly outrageous, their words becoming more insulting each time. Eventually, Sect Master Siyuan’s patience wore thin.
Accusing the Le’an Immortal Sect of sheltering Bai Tang was one thing—they were indeed protecting him. But insulting his junior martial brother and even dragging their late master into it was absolutely intolerable.
For the last time, Sect Master Siyuan advised them kindly: instead of wasting time here, they should return to their own sects, clean up the chaos, improve their cultivation as soon as possible, and prepare for the coming war.
As for Daoist Heyi, they would bring him back and help him return to the righteous path.
Helping a demonic cultivator return to the righteous path was an incredibly difficult undertaking. The heavenly treasures and spiritual resources required were beyond counting. The Le’an Immortal Sect’s astonishing generosity caused countless sects to become envious, further strengthening Daoist Jiayi’s and his allies’ plans.
After all, if the Le’an Immortal Sect had grown so powerful over the years, its collection of rare treasures and precious artifacts could only be immense.
After the Le’an Immortal Sect closed its gates and refused visitors, those people assumed the sect was afraid. Their arrogance grew even worse. The more short-sighted ones came directly to curse them, and some, lured by the heavenly treasures Daoist Jiayi had spoken of, even attempted to secretly infiltrate the Le’an Immortal Sect.
Unfortunately, their joy lasted less than three seconds.
Not long after entering the sect, they were discovered and cut down beneath flashing swords.
Yin Chun, who had happened to pass by, casually dealt with these petty thieves and sneered as he sheathed his sword.
“Are those dogs outside still barking?” Yin Chun asked coldly. Her temperament was naturally icy, but when it came to the people she cared about, she showed no mercy.
A disciple who had hurried over cupped his fists and reported, “Senior Sister Yin, those people are still outside making a scene.”
The Le’an Immortal Sect had already closed its gates to visitors and even erected a barrier to block out the noise, choosing to ignore the disturbance. Yet those people had resorted to such despicable tactics—it was nothing short of outrageous.
Keeping her gaze fixed ahead, Yin Chun said, “Throw all of this outside. If anyone tries something like this again, kill them without mercy. Those are my orders. I’ll report everything to Master and the Sect Master. If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility.”
Yin Chun took all of the disciples’ concerns upon herself. As the eldest disciple of the Frostblade Peak Master, the Frostcold Immortal Maiden, she carried considerable authority, both on Sword Peak and among the outer disciples of the Le’an Immortal Sect.
Seeing that they would bear no responsibility, the disciples no longer hesitated. They picked up the objects lying on the ground and hurled them outside the sect gates.
The people who had been shouting abuse were caught completely off guard as the objects slammed into them. Clutching one corpse after another, they tumbled down the mountain steps, their bodies crashing against the stone with a series of heavy thud, thud, thud sounds.
The disciples carrying the bodies turned their heads away in feigned sympathy, yet they couldn’t suppress the smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.
Ouch… Just listening to that sounds painful. Better not watch. What a sin…
Perhaps the Le’an Immortal Sect’s decisive display had successfully served as a warning. From the following day onward, no one came to stir up trouble at the sect again.
Meanwhile, the Sect Master remained troubled day after day. He had dispatched so many disciples to search, yet not a single one had managed to find Bai Tang.
Sitting in his chair, completely at a loss, he looked up as Wen Ling walked in.
“Sect Master, allow me to leave the mountain and search for Heyi.”
Like her personality, Wen Ling’s voice was cold as ice, yet her words carried a reassuring warmth.
Sect Master Siyuan froze for a moment before understanding what she meant.
“Heyi has already become the target of public condemnation. If you…”
“Only we can bring Heyi back,” Wen Ling said firmly.
What good would it do to send ordinary disciples to search? As long as Bai Tang wished to remain hidden, he could conceal himself completely. Only someone of comparable strength could detect the traces he deliberately erased.
Wen Ling had remained on the mountain for many years, but that did not mean she lacked ability. On the contrary, she had devoted herself wholeheartedly to cultivation on Sword Peak. In her early years, she had traveled throughout the cultivation world and earned the title of the Frostcold Immortal Maiden, a name that alone testified to the respect—and fear—she inspired in others.
After careful deliberation, Sect Master Siyuan finalized a plan with Wen Ling. That very evening, Wen Ling descended the mountain with her disciple, Yin Chun.
Meanwhile…
After attempting the dual cultivation technique with Pei Boyi, Bai Tang finally emerged from the dreamlike haze of indulgence and ecstasy.
He still hadn’t recovered his lost memories, but Pei Boyi was completely satisfied.
As long as Bai Tang remained by his side, nothing else mattered.
The two of them transformed the cave into a proper dwelling, setting up protective barriers around it. Disciples sent by various sects passed by the entrance countless times, yet the barrier caused them to overlook the area the two had claimed as their own.
If there was ever a pair worthy of being called an immortal couple, it was them.
Because they were deeply in love, their dual cultivation was far more effective than cultivating alone. Hoping to help Bai Tang recover from his injuries as quickly as possible, they spent no shortage of time being intimate. Having lost his memories, Bai Tang was like a blank sheet of paper in this regard—innocent, pure, and unbearably shy.
However, even if he had never eaten pork, he had at least seen pigs run. Compared to Bai Tang’s inexperience, Pei Boyi seemed far too practiced, moving with the ease of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Bai Tang seized on that point and ended up becoming jealous of Pei Boyi’s nonexistent past relationships.
“You’re so experienced. You must have been with lots of people before.” He huffed. “You heartless playboy! Don’t touch me.”
Whenever Pei Boyi was busy preparing food during their free time, Bai Tang would browse through the miscellaneous novels Qiu’er had left behind in the storage pouch to pass the time. Unfortunately, that proved to be a terrible idea.
Qiu’er’s reading preferences were… unique.
Every story was packed with melodrama—running away, crematorium tropes, endless breakups and reconciliations, separating and getting back together over and over again, until all the villains finally died and only then could the protagonists achieve their happy ending.
Bai Tang had always possessed a vivid imagination, so as he read, he naturally began inserting himself and Pei Boyi into the stories.
Good grief… Looking at all the signs, Pei Boyi is basically a walking central heating system. He must have warmed the hearts of countless people before becoming this skilled.
And so began Pei Boyi’s miserable days.
Bai Tang refused to let him sleep in the same bed.
“You’re too dirty. You’re not worthy of me,” Bai Tang declared with a stern little face.
Pei Boyi blinked in confusion.
“…Then I’ll go take a bath.”
“Get away from me, you heartless playboy!”
“!!!”
After repeating this exchange several times, Pei Boyi finally discovered the source of Bai Tang’s strange behavior.
While Bai Tang was asleep, he searched out every single one of Qiu’er’s novels and threw them into the stove, burning them all to ashes.
Anything that corrupted his Tang Tang had no right to exist.
With those melodramatic novels gone, and thanks to Pei Boyi’s actions proving his sincerity, Bai Tang gradually let go of his resistance toward him, and the two returned to their sweet, peaceful life together.
Life in seclusion among the mountains was wonderful.
There were no sects, no outsiders to disturb them, and the fresh mountain air created exactly the kind of environment Bai Tang loved. The little squirrel was so happy that he had almost forgotten all about demonic cultivators and the Shura Ice. Naturally, Pei Boyi had no intention of bringing up unpleasant topics himself. Their world of just the two of them was perfect, and he hoped it could continue forever.
Ever since Yin Chun had entered the mountain to become Wen Ling’s disciple, she had never left it again. This time, Wen Ling brought Yin Chun with her partly to give her more opportunities to gain practical experience.
As they traveled, they found that nearly every place they passed had been corrupted by demonic qi.
Vegetation withered, crops failed to grow, and famine had spread throughout the mortal world.
It was all the work of the demonic cultivators. They were steadily expanding their territory, using the land itself to transform spiritual qi into demonic qi.
Wen Ling had expected the situation to be grim, but she had never imagined it had deteriorated to this extent.
The cultivators who had gone to the Le’an Immortal Sect to cause trouble all carried Bigu Pills, allowing them to survive without food. They simply didn’t care what had become of the mortal world.
“Please… save me…” a dying woman pleaded, clutching the hem of Yin Chun’s robe. Her voice was no louder than the buzz of a mosquito. Had Yin Chun been an ordinary person instead of a cultivator, she might not have heard her at all.
“Big Sister, I’m so hungry. Do you have anything to eat?” A frail, malnourished child approached with a cracked bowl in his hands. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes bulged from starvation, yet they still held a desperate will to live.
Yin Chun’s heart softened.
He was only a child.
She looked around. Corpses lay beneath countless trees, and even the bark had been stripped away and eaten.
“Master…” Yin Chun called, unable to hide the pity on her face.
Although neither of them needed to eat after reaching the Bigu stage, Wen Ling had anticipated such a situation and had prepared some food in advance.
Wen Ling nodded.
Yin Chun took out bags of grain and steamed buns from her storage space.
The moment the starving people saw the food, their eyes lit up. They rushed toward the two women, but they had been starving for so long that their limbs had no strength left. They stumbled and fell again and again, unable to even reach Yin Chun.
Yin Chun handed three steamed buns to the child before her, then walked among the villagers who could still barely move, distributing the food one person at a time.
They devoured the food in their hands, stuffing it into their mouths as fast as they could, terrified that if they slowed down for even a moment, it would disappear.
“Such kind people…”
“Living Bodhisattvas…”
But a few steamed buns were nowhere near enough.
Those who were still hungry turned hopeful eyes toward Wen Ling and Yin Chun, wishing they would take out more food. Unfortunately, Wen Ling carried nothing but her sword, and the storage pouch in Yin Chun’s hand was already empty.
Suddenly, someone with sharp eyes noticed the embroidered emblem on Yin Chun’s shoulder.
He had seen it before.
“It’s the Le’an Immortal Sect… They’re immortals…”
In this world, cultivation was held in the highest esteem, and cultivators were deeply respected by ordinary people. As the most renowned sect in the cultivation world, the Le’an Immortal Sect was known to almost everyone.
The moment their identities were revealed, the villagers, having regained a little strength, all dropped to their knees and repeatedly kowtowed.
“Thank you… Thank you, Immortals…”