Rebirth As A Human Cauldron Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Qin Duàn opened his eyes, Bai Lingzhi had already disappeared without a trace. The spacious room was filled only with the misty vapor of the medicinal spring.

Shaking his head, Qin Duàn got up, using the towel that the person had prepared for him earlier to wipe his body. After dressing, he walked barefoot outside.

He had barely taken a few steps when someone came forward to greet him politely, saying, “Young Master Qin, please follow me.”

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Ckd Pwàd aykple yd lulcaso yde pnyddle vbl yaly okvb bkp ekhkdl pldpl cwv qswde ds vaynl sq Jyk Nkdtgbk. Tl nypwyzzu ypjle, “Eblal kp bl?”

“Tkp Tktbdlpp kp kd plnzwpksd qsa y qlo eyup, yde R yx blal vs zlye usw vs uswa alpvkdt iwyavlap,” vbl plahydv pyke yp bl oyzjle yblye. “Gzps, vball eyup zyvla, Tkp Tktbdlpp okzz elryav qsa Dkādgbōw, ps usw pbswze ralryal uswaplzq.”

Dkādgbōw oyp fwpv y qlo eyup’ fswadlu qasx Cìdtgbōw, okvb kvp wdewzyvkdt xswdvykdp yde prkakvwyz hlkdp, xyjkdt kv y tyvblakdt rzynl qsa nwzvkhyvsap. Ckd Pwàd nyznwzyvle vbl vkxl yde alyzkgle vbyv vbl yddwyz ywnvksd oswze cl blze pssd. Jyk Nkdtgbk xwpv byhl tsdl vblal qsa vbkp lhldv.

Gp bl rsdelale, bl wdjdsokdtzu yaakhle yv vbl essa sq bkp assx. Usxryale vs Jyk Nkdtgbk’p assx, vbkp sdl bye y xsal alqkdle elnsa, yde kd vbl nsadla, y nldpla cwadle y qykdv pnldv sq pswz-nyzxkdt kdnldpl. Ckd Pwàd tzydnle shla, vbld vwadle vs vbl plahydv yde kdpvawnvle, “Wlvnb xl psxl nkddycya yde ulzzso ryrla, yzsdt okvb y obkvl fyel oszq-byka cawpb.”

The servant hesitated and said, “This…”

“If anyone asks, just say that I requested them. You won’t be blamed,” Qin Duàn impatiently urged, “Hurry, and return quickly.”

In no time, the requested items were brought to the room. Qin Duàn rolled up his sleeves, pushed aside the ornamental items on the table, and focused his mind. With the wolf-hair brush dipped in cinnabar, he drew a small gathering spirit formation on the blank surface.

Qìngzhōu’s spiritual energy was too thin, and this Fengyue Tower was entangled with too many worldly affairs, making it less suitable for cultivation. Given his current cultivation level and his right hand being sealed, he could only use his left hand to draw. With great effort, he finally completed the formation after two hours.

He then waited for the ink to dry before placing a piece of yellow paper on the table. With a swift movement, he began to write, concentrating and holding his breath.

His skill with his right hand was superior, and the strokes of his left hand were crooked and lacked proper spiritual essence. At first glance, the characters looked like mere scribbles, no different from some amateurish talisman. However, beneath the surface, these characters contained a complete and undiminished power.

First-rate talismans required top-grade materials and greater cultivation from the scribe. But now, due to his current situation, to avoid arousing suspicion from Bai Lingzhi, Qin Duàn could only draw some ordinary talismans for self-defense. That was all he could do for the moment.

Drawing the talismans took him a full three days. Thanks to the gathering spirit formation’s assistance, he could draw continuously for half a day before needing a short rest. A messy pile of finished products accumulated, each stroke disordered, and each talisman slightly different but just about usable.

Even after Qin Duàn used up a thick stack of yellow paper, there wasn’t a single true failure among them.

When he finished the last stroke, he called a servant and put everything into the lowest-grade storage ring he had, along with an extra set of materials, which he also stuffed inside.

Looking at the dim brilliance of the small silver ring in his hand, it could be said to hold all his possessions. Compared to his previous life, he was certainly not as impoverished.

But he had lost to the heavenly tribulation. Qin Duàn let out a sigh and tried to maintain a calm mindset.

On the third evening, Bai Lingzhi finally emerged from seclusion.

He was still dressed in a floor-length crimson robe, but there was a hint of weariness between his brows. Even when he smiled, he seemed somewhat feeble… Could it be that he encountered some difficulties in his cultivation? This thought flashed through Qin Duàn’s mind but was quickly suppressed – as a mere Golden Core cultivator, he had no right to direct Bai Lingzhi, who was at the Nascent Soul stage.

It probably wasn’t anything major.

As Qin Duàn was lost in thought, the servant had already approached him in just a few steps. With a playful gesture, the servant lifted his chin and said, “I didn’t expect you to be so obedient, not even attempting to escape.”

Qin Duàn was annoyed by the petting tone, but he managed to hold back the insult that came to his throat. He forced a reply, though his face still didn’t look good. Seeing his expression, Bai Lingzhi softened his gaze, seemingly finding some resemblance between Qin Duàn and his own master. He didn’t press further and didn’t make a fuss about the rudeness.

He continued to tease for a while, casually mentioning the matter of drawing talismans. Qin Duàn made up a few words to brush it off, and Bai Lingzhi smiled and closed one eye, pretending not to notice.

After all, Qin Duàn’s cultivation was too weak, and Bai Lingzhi was confident that he could control the situation. There was no need to be overly guarded against him.

The next day, at dawn, a luxurious carriage was parked outside the Fengyue Tower. The carriage was painted in red, with golden trims and jade decorations on the corners. It was powered by two wingless flying horses. As long as an order was given, the carriage could soar into the sky.

This carriage was naturally their means of travel to Xiānzhōu. Bai Lingzhi initially intended to be discreet, but it seemed that Qin Duàn didn’t care much about appearances.

Inside the carriage, Qin Duàn sat together with Bai Lingzhi. The young man always liked to fidget, especially when he was asleep. He would pressed himself against Qin Duan’s back, and his soft limbs tightly wrapped around him, resembling a snake entwining its prey.

At first, Qin Duàn was somewhat uncomfortable, but he gradually grew numb to it and just let him be.

A few days later, the group arrived in Xiānzhōu. Bai Lingzhi instructed the servants to find a suitable place to stay and then took Qin Duàn to walk along the main street.

He was a restless person from a young age. However, back then, the cave was quite empty, with only a spiritual field behind it. Bai Lingzhi often ran there, and each time, he was caught and given a lesson by Qin Duàn.

But now, Qin Duàn couldn’t control him anymore. As they walked, Bai Lingzhi held Qin Duàn’s hand in his palm, complaining about how cold it was.

Qin Duàn heard him muttering and thought he sounded like his old master.

With his Asura body, Qin Duàn’s body temperature was extremely low, with only a slight warmth at his heart. Now, as he was reborn as a human, he had only activated his right hand, so its temperature was natural, just as it used to be.

Seeing that Bai Lingzhi’s hand rubbing his own wasn’t showing signs of improvement, he pulled Qin Duàn into a treasure shop. There, Bai Lingzhi picked a small hand warmer.

The shopkeeper approached, seeing Bai Lingzhi’s luxurious attire, and began to boast about their merchandise, “This hand warmer is made from refined stones, and on top of that, it has runes personally drawn by a high-level craftsman. It not only keeps warm for a long time but also has a calming effect…”

He kept on chattering, and Bai Lingzhi wasn’t sure if he was paying attention or not. He just flicked a few pieces of silver over, then turned to Qin Duàn at the door, saying, “This is for you.”

Qin Duàn was taken aback for a moment but didn’t refuse. Bai Lingzhi opened the lid, took out some fuel from somewhere, and soon enough, faint white smoke rose from the core of the stove, carrying a strange fragrance that was quite pleasant.

Holding Qin Duàn’s hands, Bai Lingzhi’s golden eyes curved with a smile, a gleam of light shining in them like a bright crescent moon.

“Now you’ll be warm,” he said.

As if pricked by the affection in Bai Lingzhi’s eyes, Qin Duàn lowered his gaze coldly and retorted, “…Unnecessary.”

There was a trace of hoarseness in his voice that he himself hadn’t noticed. Bai Lingzhi smiled and replied, “Just consider it on behalf of my master… When he returns, he won’t like this.”

Qin Duàn remained silent but, following Bai Lingzhi’s prompting, he steadied the hand stove. The engraved patterns on the stove’s wall felt like they were searing into his palm, as if the sensation reached straight into his heart.

Bai Lingzhi then held Qin Duàn’s left hand, while Qin Duàn cradled the stove in his right hand, humming a little tune as they walked on the street.

He looked like a child going out for the first time, wanting to see everything. He even stopped an elderly man on the street and bought two skewers of candied haws from him.

Dressed in his red attire, he was already conspicuous, and with the round candy balls in his hand, he strangely seemed to fit in perfectly. Qin Duàn was half-heartedly trailing behind, when suddenly, his chin was lifted, and he tasted a sweet kiss.

Bai Lingzhi held a hawthorn fruit to his lips – the fruit had already been pitted before being candied. He gently bit through the sugar coating, and a sour, slightly astringent taste filled his mouth, overflowing with flavor.

Their tongues entered each other’s mouths, but this time Bai Lingzhi didn’t reveal any perverse intentions. Instead, he kissed Qin Duàn like a human would, gently licking every soft part of his mouth, bit by bit, until he finally pulled away, leaving behind a thin silver thread.

Qin Duàn’s face turned bright red, and he was slightly breathless. He glanced at the bustling street and scolded in a low voice, “Indecent…”

Bai Lingzhi playfully kissed the tip of his nose and coquettishly said, “My master tastes sweet.”

It was strange. He used to only reach Qin Duàn’s chest, but now, he had grown taller than him. Perhaps his dazzling face made Qin Duàn not find anything improper about his appearance. He even seemed somewhat cute.

Was he once again enchanted? Qin Duàn furrowed his brows and checked his condition with his cultivation technique, but he didn’t find anything unusual.

Feeling increasingly strange, he unconsciously took a few steps back, but Bai Lingzhi caught his wrist and continued to walk forward as if nothing happened.

The two of them strolled for most of the day, returning to the inn only when it was getting dark. Bai Lingzhi and Qin Duàn shared a room, but the latter didn’t feel sleepy at all. Instead, he leaned against the wall and sat through the night.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, he saw Bai Lingzhi holding a plate of pastries and smiling as he brought them to Qin Duàn’s lips. “Ah…”

Qin Duàn’s gaze darkened, and he slightly turned his head away.

Since yesterday, he had been feeling restless for no apparent reason. Although he had calmed down after meditating through the night, seeing Bai Lingzhi act so coquettishly this morning stirred up that unease again. No matter how he looked at it, he found it displeasing.

Bai Lingzhi seemed to sense something and his smile deepened. With a thought, several small snakes appeared out of thin air, hissing as they entwined around Qin Duàn’s body.

He was rendered immobile by these creatures. His complexion became even worse. Bai Lingzhi leaned in and offered the pastry once more, smiling without saying a word.

Qin Duàn’s face darkened, and his lips tightened into a straight line. The white snake circled him a few times, and with a flick of its tail, it sneakily slipped under his clothes.

As the cold scales touched his skin, he shivered involuntarily. The murderous intent in his eyes almost overflowed.

But he still relented – because the snake’s tail was already winding around his private area, and Qin Duàn believed that Bai Lingzhi would indeed carry through with his intention.

So, he opened his mouth and, along with the other’s fingers, bit down with such force that blood almost immediately appeared. The cold, sweet and fishy-tasting liquid filled his mouth – even though Bai Lingzhi’s body was hot, his blood was cold.

The taste of blood mixed with the pastry made him nauseous. Qin Duàn’s throat rolled a few times, but he managed not to vomit.

****

With that bite, he seemed to clear his head a bit, and the restlessness within him gradually dissipated. He looked at Bai Lingzhi with a calm expression, as if gazing at a stranger passing by.

Bai Lingzhi trembled under that gaze, feeling a sense of panic for no reason.

He nervously put down the plate and withdrew the snake back into his body. Then, he embraced Qin Duàn into his arms, speaking softly, “Are you angry…? I’m sorry, I just thought the pastry was delicious, and I wanted you to try it…” As he spoke, he buried his head in Qin Duàn’s shoulder and nuzzled against him.

His voice carried a deep sense of grievance, and if it weren’t for the lingering taste of blood in Qin Duàn’s mouth, he might have been fooled.

…No, he had already been fooled. Qin Duàn swallowed the blood-laden saliva and thought coldly.

His disciple always knew better than anyone how to play with people’s emotions.

Qin Duàn calmed his mind and didn’t let himself be affected by Bai Lingzhi’s actions. However, that didn’t stop Bai Lingzhi from clinging to his shoulder. After a while, he suddenly stopped moving.

Frowning, Qin Duàn was about to say something when he felt a warm, wet sensation on his shoulder. He trembled all over, forcibly lifted Bai Lingzhi’s face, and saw his golden eyes red and teary, tears cascading like disconnected beads from his finely carved cheeks. He looked pitiful.

As if something was choking him, it took Qin Duàn a while to finally say, “Why… are you crying?”

Bai Lingzhi cried even more sorrowfully at those words. But upon closer inspection, it seemed his eyes were unfocused, as if something was haunting him.

“Master…” The man, who had been so wicked just a moment ago, now held Qin Duàn’s hand like a child. “Master… I-I was wrong… Please don’t abandon me…”

He cried, his image entirely gone, his rosy lips trembled with a pleading expression, repeating the same words over and over again.

It was as if this was the only thing he could do.

Qin Duàn was speechless, and his once resolute heart softened with these few tears. Instinctively, he reached out and wiped the corner of Bai Lingzhi’s bloodshot eyes, sighing, “Stop crying… You’re already grown up, crying like this, what does it look like?”

Bai Lingzhi gripped his wrist tightly, as if he wanted to crush his bones. “I’m sorry, Master… I just didn’t want you to leave… I… I’m fond of you… I couldn’t help myself…”

Seeing him gasping for breath from crying so much, Qin Duàn wanted to comfort him, but before he could say anything, he was suddenly thrown onto the bed with great force. Bai Lingzhi straddled him, and his expression changed from vulnerability to distortion and ferocity.

“Why… why do you still want to abandon me?” He cried, his fingers tightening around Qin Duàn’s neck, his once fragile expression turning fierce and hostile. “Why, Master… I like you so much…”

Qin Duan’s neck was captured by Bai Lingzhi’s grip, making it difficult for him to breathe. He instinctively struggled, trying to pry the hands off his neck, and managed to gasp out, “You…”

“I no longer expect you to love me…” Bai Lingzhi’s eyes turned bloodshot, and silver scales emerged on his smooth neck, spreading up to cover half of his face. “But why won’t you even hate me?”

As he spoke, the scales on his forehead glimmered slightly, and two rough silver horns slowly extended from his hairline. For some reason, one of the horns was short, as if it had been broken, making it look somewhat strange.

This was… the transformation of a dragon.

However, the horns of a true dragon were short and straight, or they might not even have horns at all. The two horns on Bai Lingzhi’s forehead were clearly… dragon horns.

For a moment, Qin Duàn’s mind went blank. He couldn’t believe that he had misjudged his disciple. This young man wasn’t the offspring of a serpent and a snake; he was indeed a descendant of ancient dragons…

Dragons were the ancestors of serpents, and their bloodline was naturally much stronger than that of serpents. Even if only one-thousandth of the dragon’s bloodline remained, it would gradually assimilate over time. The dragon’s horn was the foundation of a dragon’s power, and Bai Lingzhi’s missing horn meant his power was incomplete. He might never be able to fully transform into a dragon in this life, and he would have to endure the torment of bloodline backlash day and night, making him live in unbearable pain.

What was the reason for all this?

Qin Duàn’s heart trembled, and he momentarily forgot to struggle, just staring at the blood-red eyes and listening to the man’s desperate accusations.

“I hate you so much… Why didn’t you kill me back then… Why did you let me live… and forget…” Bai Lingzhi’s whole body trembled, and tears continued to fall on Qin Duàn’s face, trailing down his cheeks and seeping into his hair.

“Why… When I finally remembered you… you were already dead…”

The fingers that were grasping Qin Duàn’s neck suddenly loosened. Qin Duàn gasped for breath, bending forward and coughing violently. Exhausted from crying, Bai Lingzhi buried his face into Qin Duàn’s chest, sobbing softly.

“It hurts so much, Master… it hurts so much… they said becoming a dragon would no longer be painful… but becoming a dragon means forgetting you…”

“I don’t want to become a dragon; I just want you…”

Dragons were beings of the heavenly realm, and their offspring were scattered across the three realms. To become a dragon, one needed to undergo a complete transformation, shedding their old self entirely, including all past memories.

Bai Lingzhi’s cultivation had advanced rapidly in the past, responding to the call of the heavenly realm to become a dragon. However, during the final stage of the transformation, he glimpsed a sealed memory. In desperation, he broke his own dragon horn…

The boy who used to shed tears even when he only scratched his finger now willingly bears such immense pain for him. Hearts are made of flesh, and though Qin Duan self-identifies as having a heart of stone, now as he looks at the broken horn on Bai Lingzhi’s forehead, he, being intelligent, can’t help but guess the underlying cause behind the current appearance of the latter. Thinking and pondering, he feels as if his heart is immersed in boiling water, experiencing the urge to cry for the first time in his life.

Recalling the words of the heavenly way, Qin Duan lies on the bed, feeling the inexplicable surge in his chest. For thousands of years, he has rejected love and hatred, detaching himself from worldly matters. He has traveled through countless mountains and waters, walked thousands of miles through dusty roads, and believed he had attained boundless love, reaching the ultimate state of detachment.

But now, with just one month after rebirth, his Dao heart has been shaken multiple times. All those love, hatred, and enmities he thought he had forgotten surge forth, filling his heart with a sour and confused feeling.

If a few tears shed by Bai Lingzhi can break his Dao heart, then what does it matter that he has endured pain and suffering for thousands of years?

Or perhaps the way of heartlessness should not exist in this world, and emotionless individuals like him shouldn’t either? Has he been wrong in his approach, taking the wrong path, eventually facing divine punishment and scattering of the soul?

Humans are not like plants; how can they be without emotions?

In this moment, Qin Duan would rather turn into dust and dirt, a blade of grass or a tree, than bear the heavy burden of this emotional tribulation, whose origins he cannot comprehend.

****