Ch149 - Past Life Infinite Hell 1. White Stone

A blood moon hung in the sky.

The Buddhist temple lay in ruins, a massive Buddha head toppled among cracked debris. A black serpent with a white-flame tail wound past.

Crawling over the half-destroyed temple, climbing the fallen Buddha head, it stopped at someone’s feet before slithering up along the hem of a robe, emerging from a sleeve to coil sinisterly around slender fingers.

Serpent scales black as ink, five fingers like jade.

Black and white distinct, grotesque yet carrying hidden depravity.

Chongjue’s robe hem billowed as he smiled, “watching” the bloody corpses hanging from trees.

A blood-soaked man, not yet fully dead, struggled to lift his bloodshot eyes and stare at him.

“Even in Infinite Hell, you dare commit such slaughter… you’ll surely die a terrible death.”

Chongjue rode the wind down from the Buddha head, earthfire surging skyward. Ash fell like snowflakes, passing through the ruined temple—revealing endless withered forests as far as the eye could see.

“Sin?”

Countless withered trees bore hundreds of blood-soaked corpses, all uniformly twisting their necks to stare at Chongjue.

—Dying with eyes wide open.

Chongjue raised one hand in salute toward the massive ruined Buddha head, but without a shred of reverence—more like a venomous snake toying with prey, malicious and mocking.

“No matter how deep my sins or heavy my karma, what can this ruined Buddha do to me?”

Mud-plastered Buddha statues cannot save demons willing to fall.

The man’s pupils suddenly widened as he silently breathed his last.

Chongjue sneered, passing through the withered forest to reach an ornately carved forbidden palace.

Infinite Hell was covered in hellfire—everywhere it burned lay ruins and ash.

This forbidden palace clashed with the inferno, luxurious as a mirage, filled with jade treasures. Eerily, the entire palace appeared like a reflection in water, completely inverted.

Chongjue stepped inside, and just as he lifted the beaded curtain, something flew at him through the air.

“Get out!”

Chongjue calmly tilted his head slightly. A jade bottle grazed past his long hair and smashed against the wall with a bang.

The person said, “Eyes may be blind, but the brain’s still working—you know to dodge.”

Chongjue looked up.

There was no bed in the inner chamber. The floor was covered with soft carpets, and beneath grotesque lotus lamps, a man in plain white robes sat cross-legged in the center, a go board before him, black and white stones scattered on the ground.

His features were exquisite, face pale yet lips crimson, amber eyes regarding him indifferently.

Walking to Su Hansheng, Chongjue sat down, his broad palm capturing prey-like, gripping that slender neck and forcibly pressing him close.

His movements were forceful, yet his tone gentle: “What’s bothering you now?”

Su Hansheng’s brows carried languid beauty. “Give me back my companion tree.”

“Mm? What do you want with that stupid thing?” Chongjue said lazily. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll serve you.”

Su Hansheng: “…”

Did this person’s brain contain nothing but lust?

As it turned out, the evil one knew no restraint.

No one doesn’t love beauty.

Chongjue only needed one glance at the person he kept pampered in this forbidden palace to instinctively feel desire. Without the virtuous one’s suppression, he never denied himself.

Their builds differed greatly. Chongjue sat boldly, only needing to lean forward slightly to cross the go board. His shadow in the candlelight completely engulfed Su Hansheng like an inescapable cage.

Chongjue directly lifted Su Hansheng’s slender body into his lap, leaning down to gently kiss those beautiful eyes.

Su Hansheng fiercely pressed against his cheek and pushed him away, saying coldly, “Forget it. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Chongjue was extremely good-tempered, mumbling agreement while sliding his hands into his clothes, planning to stir up his “mood.”

Su Hansheng was about to laugh in exasperation. He grabbed a handful of white stones he’d just sorted and threw them at his face, saying indifferently, “Give me back my companion tree.”

Chongjue took the hit squarely, movements pausing.

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This was the first time in years he’d been so angry. Even the bare companion tree was frightened, trembling at the side.

Chongjue had already changed robes, sitting and brewing tea. Seeing the go board flying at him, he lightly raised his eyes. His violent spiritual energy didn’t crush the board he’d personally carved but gently used wind to set it on the ground.

Chongjue rarely saw Su Hansheng’s emotions so intense—far prettier than his usual sickly appearance. It stirred his desire again.

But yesterday had been too excessive, angering him like this. No matter how brainless, even he didn’t dare seek pleasure now, forcibly restraining himself, propping his chin to watch Su Hansheng rage.

Su Hansheng’s face was covered in angry tears, yet Chongjue watched with interest, without a shred of shame.

“You…”

Su Hansheng’s breath was weak. No matter how angry, he didn’t dare throw stones at Chongjue again.

Only when Su Hansheng had exhausted himself did Chongjue pretend to come coax him: “Don’t be angry. Didn’t I already return your companion tree? Whatever else you want, I’ll give you.”

Su Hansheng said coldly, “Get lost.”

Chongjue smiled. “Besides that?”

Su Hansheng was completely conquered by his shamelessness, saying bitterly, “Throw out the go stone box.”

Chongjue raised an eyebrow. “What about the stones inside?”

Su Hansheng: “???”

Su Hansheng finally couldn’t contain his fury, directly raising his hand and slapping him hard.

“Smack!”

Chongjue’s head turned from the blow.

Burning with rage, Su Hansheng hadn’t expected him not to dodge. He was immediately frightened, but having already struck, he couldn’t possibly grovel in apology. He broke the jar instead, saying coldly, “I meant throw out what’s inside—if you want to throw me outside to be torn apart by evil spirits too, go ahead. I’m at your mercy.”

Chongjue turned his head back, black silk falling to reveal eerie snow-white pupils staring directly at Su Hansheng with suffocating intensity, like an approaching storm.

Chongjue reached out to gently wipe his lips, saying quietly, “Still want to go out?”

The tone was light, same as usual, but meeting his nearly icy gaze, Su Hansheng felt inexplicably apprehensive, afraid this person might devour him. He could only soothe him.

“Not going out. Even if I go, I’d bring you along.”

This flippant remark didn’t appease Chongjue. He raised his hand and directly scooped up Su Hansheng’s slender body horizontally, striding toward the inner chamber.

Su Hansheng was startled, quickly saying, “Let’s go to the back mountain—Luowu Residence’s soundproofing isn’t great, Yuan Qian and Baili… mmph!”

Chongjue wouldn’t let him speak anyone else’s name, placing him on the bed and casually forming a barrier.

Clang.

Yuan Qian and Wu Baili, who’d been holding their breath listening from their adjacent rooms, were nearly blown away by the spiritual energy. After a daze, they came to their senses, looking at each other.

They didn’t have the nerve to listen anyway.

Perhaps it really was as Su Hansheng guessed—the closer to the Lantern Festival, the more abnormal Chongjue became. His fully integrated virtuous and evil consciousnesses began chaotic again due to his mental state.

Su Hansheng didn’t know Chongjue had set a barrier. He sobbed and bit his hand, refusing to speak. Pushed to desperation, he cried and bit Chongjue instead.

Chongjue let him bite his neck to vent.

After thoroughly exhausting themselves, Su Hansheng felt like the academy’s morning bell rang the moment he closed his eyes. Clearly tired and weary beyond measure, he still had to struggle up for class.

Chongjue was already brewing tea in the outer room, seeming not to have slept all night.

Su Hansheng’s hands trembled as he tied his belt pouch at his waist. Walking forward two steps, his knees nearly buckled, almost performing a full kowtow to his uncle.

After one night of debauchery, Chongjue seemed to have forcibly suppressed that irritation. His expression was thoroughly gentle, returning to his usual untouchable World-Honored One appearance.

Chongjue moved his hand, a breeze sweeping Su Hansheng before him, pushing the pastries and tea on the small table toward him.

Su Hansheng was listless, lacking even the energy to glare at Chongjue. He picked up a pastry, chewing a few times before saying weakly, “You’re the definition of a beast in gentleman’s clothing.”

What kind of person torments someone with all sorts of tricks in bed, then acts like a refined gentleman after?

Did this person study face-changing?

Though scolded, Chongjue didn’t get angry. He raised his hand to gather Su Hansheng’s loose hair into his palm, tying it up circle by circle with a ribbon.

Su Hansheng had no appetite. After a few bites, he set it down and stood up using the table for support.

Seeing Chongjue still seemed intent on staying inseparable, he raised his hand and waved. “I’m wearing your prayer beads—I won’t run away. I’ll fly back the moment class ends.”

Chongjue still stood. Seeing Su Hansheng glare, he picked up some books. “I’m going to teach.”

Su Hansheng: “…”

Oh.

Afterward, things seemed calm.

Chongjue no longer watched him constantly. After school, he even allowed him to play with Yuan Qian and Wu Baili. No matter how you looked at it, he didn’t seem affected by the past life’s “Lantern Festival.”

Su Hansheng gradually relaxed.

However, the past life self-sacrifice was indeed improper. After the Lantern Festival classes ended, Su Hansheng hurriedly packed to return to the back mountain Buddhist hall to keep Chongjue company, even declining Wu Baili and Yuan Qian’s invitation to go out.

Su Hansheng was humming a tune as he left Shangshan Hall when someone suddenly blocked his path.

Su Xuanlin casually reached out, roughly tousling Su Hansheng’s hair with his large palm, saying with a smile, “Yuanxiao, come on—Father’s taking you to eat yuanxiao.”

Su Yuanxiao: “…”

Su Xuanlin grabbed him, about to fly off.

Su Hansheng quickly said, “Father! Father, not today, I need to go back and find…”

“Find Wen Jingyu?” Su Xuanlin said meaningfully.

Su Hansheng nodded awkwardly.

Before, Su Xuanlin would have cursed angrily, but after so many confrontations with Chongjue, he’d figured out Su Hansheng’s temperament, knowing what approach worked.

Su Xuanlin didn’t curse. Instead, he pretended to be hurt, wiping his eyes and sighing. “This New Year’s Eve, my good son kept Wen Jingyu company celebrating while I, all alone, could only drink under the moon… They say raising sons prevents loneliness in old age. Must I also suffer the miserable fate of eating yuanxiao alone on Lantern Festival? Sigh, sigh sigh.”

Su Hansheng: “…”

Su Hansheng was soft-hearted, not hard-hearted. Though knowing his father was embellishing, he still felt sorry. He quickly said, “No, no, we’ll go together.”

Su Xuanlin: “Sigh, sigh sigh, sigh sigh sigh!”

Su Hansheng choked for a while. Seeing Su Xuanlin really wouldn’t agree, he could only test the waters. “Then… then I need to return early, otherwise Chongjue will be all alone.”

Su Xuanlin didn’t care if Chongjue died. Having gotten Su Hansheng’s agreement, he immediately changed from his pitiful appearance, proudly grabbing his son and whooshing away on the wind.

…Taking Yuanxiao to eat yuanxiao.

***

Wendao Academy’s back mountain Buddhist hall.

Chongjue looked down at the voice message Su Hansheng sent through the transmission artifact. After a long time, he gently closed his eyes, casually tossing the artifact onto the table.

He fingered his prayer beads, trying to use spiritual energy to suppress the restlessness and violence within.

But having barely forced himself into meditation, his consciousness suddenly plunged into an inescapable quagmire, sinking inch by inch.

Chongjue dreamed again of past life memories.

In Infinite Hell, Su Hansheng grew quieter and quieter. Just sitting there made his heart’s dead ashes visible at a glance. His only emotional fluctuations came at night during nightmares, when he’d cry tears streaming down his face, collapsing as he called “Senior Brother.”

Chongjue wanted to comfort him but only received more intense resistance.

Chongjue didn’t understand what was wrong. After much hesitation, he sought out the notorious Goddess of Infinite Hell for answers.

The “Goddess,” having committed some transgression and cast down to Infinite Hell, no matter how noble her former status, had now fallen to resemble a vengeful spirit. Half her body including her face had turned skeletal, with strange black flowers growing from her flesh and blood.

The Goddess sat cross-legged in a pool of blood, absorbing spiritual energy from it to sustain life.

Chongjue crossed his arms, leaning against a withered tree, lazily watching her.

This person had killed too many—ruthless and merciless. No matter how strange the Goddess’s temperament, she instinctively feared him, her voice hoarse: “…You dual cultivated?”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?” Chongjue raised an eyebrow. “Seems you don’t want to keep that other ear either.”

The Goddess quickly said, “Then are you Dao Companions?”

Chongjue frowned, extremely unfamiliar with these two words. “What does that mean?”

Only then did the Goddess understand the problem. She calmly stroked the flower clusters on her skull. “If you dual cultivate without registering, you’re just in a casual ‘carnal’ relationship. From what you’ve said, that young lord probably thinks you only desire his body…”

Chongjue said, “I do desire his body.”

The Goddess choked, testing: “Then why do you care so much whether he’s pleased?”

Chongjue frowned. “Speak plainly.”

The Goddess coughed. “That young lord is still young and just came from the mortal realm—he surely follows those upper realm rules of registered dual cultivation. To him, you’re just using him as a tool for release. That’s humiliation.”

Humiliated for ten years—how could he be pleased?

Chongjue’s frown deepened.

He’d never intended to humiliate Su Hansheng.

“What can be done to make him realize I’m not humiliating him?”

The Goddess said, “That’s simple. Just register with him. With proper status as Dao Companions, dual cultivation is legitimate—can’t be considered humiliation.”

Chongjue pondered thoughtfully. After a long while: “How does one register?”

The Goddess asked, “Do you… like him?”

Chongjue was even more confused.

If it were ten years ago, perhaps he could have barely understood “like” from the virtuous one in the mortal realm. But since awakening from seclusion ten years ago, he’d completely severed contact with the virtuous one.

Previously, Chongjue thought the virtuous one was also in seclusion. Only recently, as his consciousness grew increasingly chaotic, did he belatedly realize…

The virtuous one had long since perished.

With the main body destroyed, he was merely a shell condensed from countless evil thoughts in Infinite Hell, destined to eventually dissipate.

He had no selfless compassion of “I’m dying anyway, can’t delay Su Hansheng.” Knowing his days were numbered only made him more eager to register with Su Hansheng quickly.

Chongjue had already given Su Hansheng half his life jade. Pondering whether he had anything more important, he began wondering if carving out his heart for Su Hansheng would frighten him.

That child was young—probably couldn’t handle such bloody things.

Seeing Chongjue lost in thought, seemingly planning to stay, the Goddess broke into a cold sweat. Wanting to quickly send this murderous spirit away, she thought briefly before pulling out an old betrothal document.

“My lord, this is what mortals use for registration.”

Chongjue took it, turning it over. Seeing it was blank: “What to do?”

“Simply write your and the young lord’s names on it.”

Chongjue nodded, finally magnanimously leaving the Goddess’s cave.

The betrothal document was bright red, clearly festive. Though worn, it didn’t matter much.

Chongjue used spiritual energy to write Su Hansheng’s and his names on it. Not good with auspicious phrases, he racked his brain and only wrote “Live and die together”—extremely impactful.

Satisfied, Chongjue tucked the betrothal document in his robe and flew back to the forbidden palace in the withered forest.

Just approaching, he saw Dao cultivators from the mortal realm besieging Su Hansheng, forcing him to surrender the phoenix bone.

Su Hansheng’s slender form stood there, pupils seemingly brightening—none of the usual dead-ash languor.

But Chongjue, who lived with him day and night, knew clearly—that wasn’t hope for life rekindling, but urgency seeing death so near.

All these years, Su Hansheng had constantly thought of escaping him.

Chongjue’s pupils suddenly flooded with bloody violence.

##