Ch76 - The Sumeru Seed

Su Hansheng felt caught between dream and waking, staring dazedly at the Chongjue before him.

Even wearing the World-Honored One’s plain white kasaya couldn’t hide that malevolence unique to his past-life self.

Chongjue had completely abandoned his disguise. His hand absently caressed Su Hansheng’s cheek as he said with a half-smile, “I told you—no matter where you go, don’t dream of escaping me.”

After ten years together in his past life, Su Hansheng had witnessed Chongjue’s murderous nature, experienced his unbridled desires, and understood his infinite malice intimately.

Now exposed, Chongjue had no reason to continue pretending to be that damned “considerate uncle.” Su Hansheng already knew exactly what he was.

The chains binding this innately evil creature snapped completely, releasing a demon.

Chongjue stared intently at Su Hansheng, wanting to savor the fear and terror of the person beneath his palm—ideally he’d struggle to escape like when frightened earlier, giving him justification to openly restrain him.

Kill everyone Su Hansheng relied on, so he’d have to cling to him alone as a lifeline, just like in their past life.

At the thought, Chongjue trembled with excitement.

All he needed was an excuse…

Su Hansheng stared at him in confusion for a long while, then murmured, “Chongjue?”

This time, instead of “impudent,” he received Chongjue’s languid “Mm?”

Su Hansheng suddenly came to his senses, struggling to sit up, his thin frame trembling as if wanting to flee.

Chongjue watched coldly. His hand hidden in his sleeve clenched slightly—countless talisman patterns slithered up like snakes from beneath him, ready in an instant to snap the wings of this disobedient bird and lock it back in its pretty, delicate golden cage.

Suddenly.

Su Hansheng lunged forward on his knees, nearly stumbling as he crashed into Chongjue’s embrace.

Chongjue’s hand froze mid-gesture.

This embrace wasn’t the restrained way Su Hansheng had held elders before, nor like earlier when he’d only dared clutch at his uncle’s robes. He threw his entire body forward, arms locked desperately around Chongjue’s neck, clinging like someone grasping a lifeline with all his strength.

Chongjue was stunned. The talisman patterns at his feet halted on his robes, as if momentarily losing direction, unsure where to go.

Su Hansheng used all his strength to grasp the back of Chongjue’s robes, burying his face in his neck. Chongjue instinctively wrapped his arms around the youth’s slender waist, belatedly realizing hot tears had soaked through his collar.

“Chongjue…”

The tears seemed to re-forge the chains.

Chongjue’s hand stroked the youth’s back. The malice from moments before receded like a tide. He withdrew, posture gentle as he wiped Su Hansheng’s tears, asking helplessly, “Why are you crying?”

Better he hadn’t asked—at those words, Su Hansheng’s tears fell even harder. He sobbed and shook his head.

“I… I don’t know…”

From beginning to end, Su Hansheng seemed to treat his rebirth as nothing more than an illusory dream. He’d traveled upstream against time’s current, like a possessing ghost forcibly occupying his younger body. His actions appeared to be saving Xu Nanxian, but in truth were only selfishly fulfilling his own private wish.

Now Xu Nanxian’s fate had changed, Qi Jianyi’s soul scattered—Su Hansheng appeared to be enjoying the hard-won peaceful life, but in reality remained aimless.

He was still stuck in his past life, with no sense of belonging to this “dream.”

If he could bounce around carefree and survive, that was a bonus; if he suddenly died, there was nothing wrong with that—even if he descended to the Yellow Springs, he’d cheerfully trot right down.

Either way, ashes to ashes, dust to dust—he should have perished long ago.

But now, his past-life Chongjue suddenly appeared, as if bringing that anchor from his previous existence across time’s torrent, crashing thunderously into the water, firmly fixing his wandering soul in place.

In this vast world, he was no longer alone.

Su Hansheng seemed to release all the panic, confusion, and terror accumulated since his rebirth, clutching Chongjue and nearly sobbing his heart out—like a child who’d journeyed alone for so long and finally found someone to depend on.

Chongjue laid him across his lap, gathering him in his arms. Su Hansheng’s slender legs dangled down, wide robes enveloping them, creating a narrow but safe little world.

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***

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Su Hansheng recalled the bone chains that had suddenly appeared on Chongjue that night when he’d saved him, a terrible premonition rising in his heart. He said urgently, “Did you… possess him?! Chongjue… Chongjue! How exactly did you come back?!”

Chongjue finally opened his eyes, dark pupils smiling faintly as he looked at him. “Why? Are you worried about ‘him’?”

Tear tracks still fresh on his face, Su Hansheng kicked hard at Chongjue. “Answer my question!”

Chongjue lightly caught Su Hansheng’s ankle, rising to pull him beneath him, smiling as he said, “Xiaoxiao, I don’t like a single thing you’re saying. If you don’t want it to hurt, perhaps you should coax me a little.”

Seeing this person falling ill again, Su Hansheng wished he could drown his earlier self who’d thrown himself into Chongjue’s arms crying. He kicked hard at Chongjue’s shoulder.

“Coax my ass! Are you a three-year-old who needs coaxing?! Let me go right now. I’m telling you, my senior brother’s cultivation is profound—he’s at Wendao Academy right now. If you dare treat me like you did in our past life, I’ll have him… mmph!”

Chongjue gripped Su Hansheng’s ankle hard. Su Hansheng’s entire leg felt like it had been struck, immediately going limp with pain.

“You… get off!”

“Why ask about him?” Chongjue stroked Su Hansheng’s forehead, cold with sweat from pain, saying methodically, “He constrained and disciplined you at every turn. You said a few random words and he took a cane to you. What’s there to miss about such a rigid, old-fashioned elder?”

Su Hansheng froze.

Thinking carefully, Chongjue’s abnormalities these past days had been especially obvious—whether the compassionate Buddhist “killing bugs” or the strange things he’d said, all seemed to start when the bone chains appeared.

Yet he knew about recent events.

“Did you really…” A few strands of Su Hansheng’s black hair clung damply to his face, making him look frail and confused. He murmured, “Possess him?”

The past-life and present-life Chongjue were too different. Even if both existed in one body, he couldn’t view them as the same person.

If his past-life Chongjue really had followed him to this life, using possession to forcibly occupy this body, then in the future…

Would he never again see that uncle with his serene Buddhist detachment?

Sensing the dejection and sadness in Su Hansheng’s eyes, Chongjue’s breathing hitched. He suddenly reached out to cover Su Hansheng’s eyes.

His vision plunged into darkness, leaving only Chongjue’s voice, its emotion indiscernible.

“Are you grieving for him?”

Su Hansheng froze, as if struck at a sore spot. He struggled to brush away Chongjue’s hand.

“None of your business.”

For now, he didn’t know how to face Chongjue. He could only drag his aching leg toward the edge of the bed, wanting to return to Falling Parasol Lodge to calm down and think.

But the Chongjue who could trap Su Hansheng in an illusion just because he’d said “I want to go back to Falling Parasol Lodge” would never allow him to escape his control again.

Su Hansheng had just begun to climb barefoot from the bed when his forehead struck an invisible barrier. He stumbled backward into the rumpled bedding.

Chongjue sat to the side, watching with a mocking smile.

Su Hansheng pressed his hands against the barrier in the air, finally realizing Chongjue had placed a Mahayana-stage protective barrier around the narrow bed.

A youth at Foundation Establishment stage couldn’t break through even with all his strength.

Recalling the half-month in the illusion, Su Hansheng couldn’t help shuddering.

If he hadn’t accidentally fallen into that pool, he’d probably still be trapped in the illusion, grinning like an idiot.

This person was even crazier than in his past life!

Su Hansheng couldn’t tolerate Chongjue’s twisted need for control. He turned back coldly. “Let me go.”

Chongjue smiled. “Go ahead.”

Su Hansheng nearly wanted to kick him. “Open the barrier!”

Chongjue drawled lazily, “Didn’t you say your senior brother’s cultivation is profound? He’s apparently at Wendao Academy right now. Just call him to break the barrier for you. Why are you shouting at me?”

Su Hansheng: “……”

Twisted logic!

Su Hansheng was about to explode with anger, but knowing the Chongjue from Infinite Hell was an outright madman with whom reason was useless, he could only hold back his rage and actually pull out his disciple seal from his pouch to contact Ying Jianhua.

There were too many things in his pouch. In his fury, he dumped everything out and grabbed the disciple seal to send a message.

Message devices typically went first to a beacon tower, which then distributed them to various locations. With so many disciples at Wendao Academy, a small beacon tower had been specially built for student use, making transmission very fast.

Su Hansheng’s message suddenly transformed into a magpie, chirping as it flew outward.

But just as the nail-sized spiritual magpie flew past the curtain, Chongjue leisurely extended two fingers, squinted, and lightly tapped.

The magpie shattered on impact.

Su Hansheng: “……?”

Su Hansheng’s face twisted with rage. He shouted, “Chongjue, if you keep this up, I really will kill you!”

Chongjue laughed and blew on his two fingers. Seeing Su Hansheng furious enough, he finally straightened up. “Please, continue.”

Su Hansheng swallowed his anger, face dark as he sent another message.

The magpie shrieked and flapped its wings outward.

This time Chongjue indeed didn’t maliciously use spiritual energy to shoot down the magpie… because it couldn’t even fly past the curtain—the Mahayana-stage barrier blocked it, leaving it chirping frantically as it flew around the bed.

It crashed into something, and Su Hansheng’s message played from within.

“Senior Brother, save me! Senior Brother, save me!”

It looped endlessly.

Su Hansheng: “……”

In a fury, Su Hansheng recalled the magpie, eyes red-rimmed as he glared at Chongjue, looking ready to cry from anger.

If it had been the previous Chongjue seeing him this aggrieved, even the hardest heart would soften, giving in to all his demands.

But the creature before him was a demon crawled up from Infinite Hell. He watched Su Hansheng’s moistening lashes with great interest, finding them beautiful—they’d surely be even lovelier if he actually cried.

Having apparently enjoyed the view enough, Chongjue actually stretched and lay down on the rumpled bed, indicating he was going to sleep now and Su Hansheng could play by himself.

Su Hansheng: “……”

Su Hansheng could no longer hold back. Like a small beast, he pounced forward, looming over Chongjue as he gripped his throat viciously. “If you don’t let me out, I’ll die together with you right here and now!”

Chongjue, far from frightened, actually laughed lowly.

He raised his hand to support Su Hansheng’s waist, smile undiminished. “If you hate me so much, when you used your body to open Infinite Hell’s gate, why didn’t you take me with you? Why did you send me back to the mortal realm instead?”

Su Hansheng’s ears flushed crimson. “You!”

In his past life, disheartened and too weary even for revenge, he’d finally done one decent thing—sending this person out of Infinite Hell back to the mortal world. Who’d have thought that reborn, it would become ammunition for him to mock?

Su Hansheng’s cheeks burned, so embarrassed he wanted to find a hole to crawl into.

Chongjue appreciated his flustered, lively appearance—in their past life, Su Hansheng had been so sullen that even when furious, he’d only bottle it all inside. The harshest words he’d ever said, pushed to his limit, were: “…In the future, you’d better not fall into my hands.”

…He’d rarely been this spirited, like a scampering fox.

He should have been happy about this change, but thinking it had happened under another version of himself’s watch, Chongjue’s heart burned with infinite jealousy and resentment.

Chongjue never hid his negative emotions. Even called an innately evil creature full of wickedness, he’d only take it as praise. Now with resentment raging in his heart, his words naturally turned caustic, dripping with sarcasm.

“Young Master’s made so many threats—which have you actually carried out?”

This was the first time he’d called Su Hansheng “Young Master,” yet unlike how it sounded from others, it only deepened Su Hansheng’s fury.

Su Hansheng snapped, “I’ll carry them out eventually. What’s it to you?”

“Oh.” Chongjue sneered coldly. “Which one? Do you want to die together with me first, or fulfill that past-life threat about ‘you’d better not fall into my hands’ first? Pick one. I’ll wait a hundred years to see if the Young Master actually manages it.”

Su Hansheng was so angry he could barely breathe. He suddenly lunged forward and bit hard into Chongjue’s neck.

Chongjue winced in pain but instead of anger, burst out laughing.

Su Hansheng’s long hair fell in disarray, candlelight dancing across his beautiful face, casting intricate shadows, giving him a rare aggressiveness of someone backed into a corner.

“Chongjue.” His voice was cold. “I’ll say this one last time. Let me out.”

No one could ever cage him like a bird again.

Candlelight fell into Chongjue’s dark eyes, as if transforming them into those strange snow-white pupils from his past life.

Chongjue smiled at him, carrying both mad and calm malice.

“If you kill me, you’ll naturally be able to leave.”

Su Hansheng’s gaze suddenly turned vicious.

Suddenly, a magpie seal scattered messily on the bed rose into the air as if pulled by an invisible force, slipping onto Su Hansheng’s thumb like a rabid dog.

A magpie’s cry suddenly echoed through the narrow bed space.

Su Hansheng’s brow furrowed tightly as he and Chongjue both looked at his hand.

That magpie seal—was it the Sumeru mustard seed Su Xuanlin had left him?

Su Hansheng froze.

The Sumeru seed fit tightly on Su Hansheng’s finger, impossible to remove no matter how he tried. The lifelike jade-carved magpie on it opened its eyes, as if coming alive, spreading its wings and shrieking, speaking in human tongue:

“Kill kill kill! Kill kill kill!”

Before Su Hansheng could process what this was, he suddenly heard a familiar sound of clashing chains. Snow-white bone chains flashed before his eyes.

Chongjue beside him suddenly staggered, clutching his chest.

Countless bone chains binding his limbs, heart, internal organs, even his spine appeared from nowhere, controlled by the magpie on Su Xuanlin’s Sumeru seed, tightening inch by inch.

Su Hansheng was completely stunned.

***