Rebirth As A Human Cauldron Chapter 17

Chapter 17 

In the past few days, Bai Lingzhi had been feeling somewhat restless. Ever since the fragmentation of the divine awareness he left on that bracelet, it was as if everything had veered off track. 

He had even sent a carrier pigeon to inquire with Wen Yushu, but received a reply from his subordinate stating that the master was in seclusion and would deliver the report upon emerging.

Clutching the thin sheet of paper, Bai Lingzhi’s delicate brows knitted into a tangle of thoughts. He couldn’t pinpoint the source of this restlessness in his heart… Yet he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, as if a treasure he had carefully nurtured was being neglected by someone. But upon closer reflection, perhaps the emotional connection wasn’t as strong as he thought. 

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“Reporting to the Lord… the member from the Blood Demon Sect, he has emerged from seclusion.”

…

Qin Duan’s feet almost slipped from beneath him, and he was barely caught by Feng Li, who quickly pulled him into an embrace. The warmth from the other’s back pressed against his chest, and his throat tightened, involuntarily uttering a cautious warning.

He dared not meet the other’s eyes as he awkwardly withdrew his arm, his gaze slightly averted.

Qin Duan nonchalantly propped himself up by his shoulders and stood upright. Muttering, he said, “Why do I always have a bad feeling… Oh well.” He closed his eyes, sensing the marks he had left along the way, and led Feng Li down the mountain, stumbling along.

Perhaps due to their good luck, they didn’t encounter any obstacles. They passed by the remains of the fire where those few brothers had died, their bodies long devoured by wild beasts, leaving behind a dark pool of blood.

Stepping onto the scorched earth, Qin Duan’s expression remained indifferent. He coldly remarked, “Were you really driven to hide in the mountains by this group of people?”

There was a hint of resentment in his tone, though whether Feng Li noticed it or not was uncertain. The glint of frosty sword light flashed, seemingly carrying a hint of grievance.

Feng Li remained silent for a long time before slowly answering, “No.”

Qin Duan heard it, but didn’t acknowledge it.

And so, Feng Li, for reasons unknown, stumbled through an explanation. “I have an enemy… After years in seclusion, now that the deadline has arrived, I carry injuries and am not his match. I just wanted to find a place to recuperate, to heal from these wounds, and then challenge him once I’m back to my peak condition…”

Before he could finish speaking, Qin Duan abruptly cut him off, his fingers pressing against Feng Li’s pulse point. His voice was fierce, “With your current state, if you dare to wield your sword energy recklessly, I will lock you up.”

Feng Li’s lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to retort, but Qin Duan saw through him with a glance. “Don’t bother saying you’re less cultivated than me—you’re only in the early Yuan Infant stage now, your realm is unstable. I have countless ways to immobilize you. Let’s see if you dare to try anything.”

After saying that, Qin Duan fell silent, leading Feng Li all the way down the mountain with a stern expression. They found a nearby inn to settle in.

Feng Li’s internal injuries needed time to heal, so he set up a small spirit-gathering formation in the room using the tools at hand. He ground some unknown medicinal herb into a powder and mixed it with water, which he then attempted to drink. However, after a single sip, he grimaced and put the cup down, his face contorted in bitterness.

Qin Duan couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing. “You’re all grown up, yet you act like a child when it comes to taking medicine?”

Feng Li licked his lips and lowered his head, feeling somewhat guilty.

With long eyelashes that cast shadows when he looked down, along with the speck of cinnabar between his brows, Feng Li’s appearance momentarily captivated Qin Duan.

How did a person who used to be so composed end up like this, unable to even wield a sword?

With this thought, Qin Duan’s protective instincts surged like a tide. He almost couldn’t restrain himself from patting Feng Li’s head. However, he managed to maintain his composure and stepped out of the room, buying some candied fruits from a waiter before returning.

“If you find the medicine bitter, eat these. Don’t wander around, I’ll fetch some proper medicine for you later… Also, don’t worry about dragging me into this. I’ve placed restrictions in this area, so ordinary people won’t be able to find it.” He paused for a moment, and as a precaution, finally invoked his own name, “My… my father asked me to take good care of you. He feels indebted to you. If you want to ease his concerns, just listen to me.”

After casually making up this story, Qin Duan clapped his hands and turned to leave. However, he heard a voice from behind asking, “Are you… really his son?”

“Otherwise, who would I be? Do you think there are so many identical people in this world?”

Feng Li pressed his lips together and after a while, he softly added, “Don’t lie to me.”

His voice was barely audible, tinged with a hint of hoarseness, sounding oddly pitiful.

Qin Duan’s heart softened. “Hmm, I won’t lie to you.”

Over the next couple of weeks, the two of them stayed at the small inn. Qin Duan found a rundown pharmacy in the town, paid some money to borrow their furnace, and painstakingly refined the herbs he had collected into pills.

It wasn’t physically demanding work, but it was mentally taxing. The furnace was in a sorry state—unstable in terms of heat output and emitting smoke everywhere. Qin Duan had to set up a ventilation array in his room to avoid choking himself.

It was rare for him to take care of someone this way. He vaguely recalled the time when he raised a child… When he escaped from the Wen Residence and fell off a cliff with injuries all over his body, he ended up in a river somehow, which led him to a small village resembling a paradise.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he met a pair of eyes as bright as rubies.

Inside a dilapidated thatched hut, a small boy lay near the bed, extremely thin with barely any flesh on his face or body. Even his cheekbones were slightly protruding, but despite this, his dirty face made it hard to discern his features.

Qin Duan froze for a moment, and then he saw those eyes suddenly drawing close. Something cold was placed near his mouth—it was water.

Apart from this, the child would occasionally bring things back for him, like wild fruits or the meat of certain beasts. Qin Duan had abstained from worldly desires for many years, so these offerings only served to fulfill his bodily needs. However, if he refused, the child would keep frowning and stay by his bedside, unwilling to leave.

The child’s unexpected stubbornness was somewhat surprising.

The Asura body could regenerate indefinitely, but it required magic to nourish it. It took Qin Duan three months to haphazardly piece together his bones. When he was finally able to speak, his first question was, “What’s your name?”

The child mumbled a few times, focused on bringing things to his mouth. His blood-red eyes held confusion and an unusual determination.

He appeared to be four or five years old, but he couldn’t speak.

Qin Duan reached out and pulled the child into his embrace. His movement was gentle, but the child’s bones still seemed fragile and sore.

He was too thin, nearly losing his human form, yet he was still so lively and vibrant. He wasn’t weak and didn’t seem like he would die.

Later, Qin Duan learned that this child had inadvertently killed his own mother at birth, and his father’s identity was a mystery. The villagers feared him and called him the “little demon,” using him as a scapegoat to vent their frustrations during festivals and holidays, as if doing so could dispel bad luck.

They lived in the most remote corner of the village, and when they went outside, they faced the river that Qin Duan had arrived through. On the opposite bank of the river lay a dense forest teeming with birds and beasts, full of danger.

In order to provide food, the child frequently crossed the river to the other side, his clothes getting soaked in mud and dried by the wind, sticking to his body in a messy fashion, concealing his true colors.

Qin Duan activated his magic, opened a corner of his storage ring, and took out a set of clothes.

After the child was cleaned up, Qin Duan realized just how beautiful he looked. Coupled with those crimson eyes, he seemed increasingly non-human.

But he was already this old, and he couldn’t even speak.

Even his name was given to him by Qin Duan.

He didn’t know his parents’ surnames, so Qin Duan gave him the name “Wu Que,” meaning “without worries,” hoping for a lifetime of peace and carefreeness.

But then…

His thoughts abruptly halted. The flames in the alchemical furnace flickered, and a hint of medicinal fragrance wafted out. Qin Duan waved his hand to extinguish the fire. Once it had completely cooled down, he carefully removed the pills from inside, placing them in a prepared bottle.

The sky was already darkening, and Qin Duan hurriedly prepared to take the medicine back. However, as he was halfway there, he suddenly felt an incredibly strong spiritual pressure coming from the north. The pressure was so intense that his footsteps faltered, and he nearly tumbled off the roof of a building.

Inside the inn, Feng Li, who had been meditating, abruptly opened his eyes and gripped the sword on his lap.

After half a month of recuperation, his body was gradually recovering, though still far from his peak state. Despite that, Feng Li showed no signs of fear. Calmly, he broke the restrictions Qin Duan had left and walked out.

Standing in the dusty street, he squinted at the black clouds gradually approaching under the setting sun…

Feng Li narrowed his eyes and raised his hand, slashing out with his sword.

A formidable sword energy cut through the air, exuding a chilling intent. It surged straight toward the dark clouds, causing leaves to flutter and fall before they crystallized into ice cones and dropped to the ground.

With this sword strike, Feng Li’s complexion turned several shades paler. His body, still recovering from injuries, swayed unsteadily. He had to use his sword as a support to prevent himself from falling.

The black clouds were dispersed by his sword, revealing a tall figure.

It was a tall man dressed in a black and gold robe, his black hair flowing in the wind. He was exceedingly handsome, but with a peculiar pair of crimson eyes that were intensified by the evening sun, radiating an indescribable malevolence.

Looking down from a higher vantage point, the man regarded Feng Li. Their stances were a stark contrast—black against white, both poised for action.

When Qin Duan arrived in haste, this was the scene he encountered.

The man in black stood aloof, displaying an air of ease, while Feng Li, visibly strained, clenched the hilt of his sword. His fingers were so tight that the knuckles turned white, making it difficult for him to raise his hand.

Qin Duan knew that damaged meridians couldn’t recover completely in a matter of a few days. He was afraid that Feng Li might lose his temper and risk his life by challenging fate again… Even if he did so, he might not be a match for that person.

For the first time, he deeply resented his own frail and powerless body. In the face of such a vast difference in strength, no matter how many tricks he had up his sleeve, they would all be in vain.

But what if he were to flee?

Qin Duan narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He stood a bit farther away, using a special technique to conceal his presence. He focused his attention on the two figures locked in a standoff, yet they seemed entirely unaware of his presence.

Half an incense stick’s worth of time passed, and the man in black was the first to speak, his voice heavy, as if deliberately suppressing something. The air around him was charged with killing intent, even more intense than before.

“To see you become like this after just a few days of separation… Even your father would be disappointed,” the man in black said.

His voice was deep, as though he were constantly restraining something. Despite that, the aura of menace around him didn’t diminish but rather intensified.

“Fathers see, too, and I believe he would be disappointed,” Feng Li replied coldly. “Whether it’s in the past or now, I am not a match for my senior. If you want a challenge, then let’s fight. But don’t bring him up anymore.”

The man in black chuckled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “For a millennium, people have always placed my father’s name side by side with yours, as if the two were incarnations of justice and evil. And now, you have fallen to this state, even carrying the weight of insults… A you like this, I don’t see any value in erasing you.”

Pausing briefly, he shifted the conversation, and a surge of blood-red flashed in his eyes. “But you can’t live either… Anyone in this world who hopes for him must die!”

Facing the almost tangible aura of killing intent, Feng Li remained expressionless. “Then you won’t survive either.”

“Of course,” the man in black said. “I am the last…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the aura of demonic energy behind him transformed into several enormous blades, descending from the sky with a deafening noise, accompanied by a sharp wind. They fell like thunderbolts from above.

Seeing this, Feng Li mobilized his inner energy, prepared to fight to the death against this powerful attack. However, at that very moment, a magic circle illuminated beneath his feet…

Simultaneously, the attack struck down.

Qin Duan was blown back by the dispersed energy, flung several meters away before crashing into a crooked-necked tree, coughing up blood on impact.

But before he could catch his breath, his neck was tightly gripped by a large hand, pressing him against the trunk of the tree behind him.

Only at this point did Qin Duan finally see the man’s face clearly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

And yet, the man was equally astonished. His grip loosened on Qin Duan’s neck, and Qin Duan staggered a few steps forward, coughing uncontrollably.

As he coughed, his mind was blank, until he heard the person above him speak with a tremor in their voice, “…Father?”

“That’s not father,” another voice, similar yet entirely different, came from behind. A hand extended across Qin Duan’s waist, forcibly securing him against the man’s chest. The hand then lifted his chin, causing him to meet the gaze of the man before him—his adoptive son, Wu Que.

Wu Que’s expression trembled slightly, his brow furrowing. “Is this… the reincarnated vessel from three hundred years ago?”

“Looks so much like it, so it’s likely,” the man behind him chuckled softly. His scorching breath brushed against the side of Qin Duan’s neck, causing him to shiver. He abruptly turned his head and was met with a face that was a complete match to Wu Que’s, except for the scarlet mark between the eyebrows.

For a moment, Qin Duan couldn’t regain his composure, blurting out, “Who are you?”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, he regretted it. The man’s laughter became even more hearty, his eyes swirling with blood-red hues. The mark between his eyebrows gleamed with vibrant colors, both demonic and enchanting.

Qin Duan had never seen Wu Que smile like this before. In his memory, his adoptive son had always been quiet and reserved, rarely showing obvious emotional fluctuations. It was as though he was suppressing something forcefully, to the point that whenever those blood-red eyes stared at him, he felt like he was being watched by a wild beast.

As the scent of blood still lingered in the air, Qin Duan’s expression darkened. “You’re not Wu Que.”

The man’s fingers, which had been resting on his chin, playfully caressed it, and he even leaned in closer, brushing against Qin Duan’s cheek. “Of course, I am Wu Que…”

Wu Que interjected, “Enough.”

“Of course, he’s Wu Que too,” the man added. “I am his other half, and he is mine. Do you understand now? Hm?”

Qin Duan didn’t understand. Wu Que was the child he had raised single-handedly. Whether he had siblings or not, he couldn’t possibly be unaware. This person looked identical to Wu Que, aside from their tone of speech and attitude. They were practically the same person…

Qin Duan’s expression changed. He stared at Wu Que with disbelief. “Have you practiced the Path of Demonic Heart?”

Practitioners of the Path of Demonic Heart separated their demonic hearts from themselves, tearing their souls into two pieces to create a vessel for their demonic hearts—

“Yes, I am his demonic heart.”

Wu Que spoke with a bite, sinking his teeth into the pale nape of the person in his embrace. His grip was so strong that he drew blood almost instantly.

Listening to the person’s sharp intake of pain, Wu Que’s gaze turned merciless.

Father, father…

A small voice in his heart kept calling out, eventually turning into a mournful roar, but it never found its continuation.

Wanting possession, wanting to plunder, wanting to intrude—

It was the most concealed, abhorrent emotion within Wu Que’s heart, as well as the hopeless depth of affection he couldn’t express in words.

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