Chapter 41: The Perfect Hiding Spot

Su Zhuozhi hid within the bed curtains, struck dumb by the shock. It felt as if a heavy club had slammed against his head. All he could hear were chaotic noises, clattering in his ears, making it impossible to follow the conversation between Xie Jue and the demonic cultivator at the table.

It was like a film of water, sounds coming from far away, fragmented, faint.

If Xie Jue were merely a demonic cultivator, Su Zhuozhi could still convince himself that he might have had his reasons, like Yan Ruishi—forced into demonic path against his will, with a good heart and without committing evil deeds.

But the Demon Lord…

That was different.

Even in Ten Thousand Swords Sect, he had heard tales of the Demon Lord.

Unpredictable, violent, bloodthirsty, a slaughterer.

His own father was the previous Demon Lord, teaching him from childhood how to kill and revel in evil. Under such tutelage, what normal person could emerge? Born a demon.

Rumors said that the Demon Lord, right after killing, would eat meat without a care in front of the corpse.

And now, such a fearsome person was less than ten yards away.

He could clearly see the cold impatience on Xie Jue’s face, his thin lips pressed together, his indifferent tone: “Kill them.”

Su Zhuozhi couldn’t help but tremble. Even knowing Xie Jue couldn’t see him, he cowered behind the bed curtains, covering his mouth and nose, breathing rapidly, heart pounding with terror.

Yet he couldn’t move. If he shifted position, he would likely be discovered immediately—by the Demon Lord or the demonic cultivator who seemed to be a protector.

After what felt like an eternity, the demonic cultivator finally left. Xie Jue washed up, changed into his nightclothes, and walked toward the bed.

Su Zhuozhi’s heart lurched. He couldn’t control his nervousness, even holding his breath.

Xie Jue sat on the bed, lifted the blanket, and covered himself, but didn’t lie down to sleep immediately.

He lowered his eyes, seeming lost in thought. After a while, his lips moved and a low voice called out a name.

“Su Zhuozhi.”

Hearing that, Su Zhuozhi nearly shrieked and jumped. Only by clamping his hand over his mouth did he suppress it, his legs weak with fear.

He found me?!

Su Zhuozhi’s forehead hair was damp, cold sweat trickling down his back. He was terrified out of his wits.

But as time passed, he realized that Xie Jue was just talking to himself, not aware of his presence.

Yet immediately after, Xie Jue’s comment about finding him strange lately made his heart clench tightly, rising high.

Xie Jue noticed he was off!

That was natural. He hadn’t been serious about hiding at all, foolishly thinking Xie Jue was a good person who wouldn’t harm him. But in reality? That man was the tyrant of the demon realm, the source of all evil.

Su Zhuozhi had never felt so naive and foolish. He had been completely deceived.

That night, he crouched in the corner of the bed, not daring to move, his eyes locked on Xie Jue, who was asleep with closed eyes, terrified that he would suddenly wake up and notice him.

He hugged his knees, chin resting on the back of his hands. Even when exhausted, he dared not fall asleep, afraid that if he did, his body would tilt and he would collapse onto Xie Jue’s chest—like a lamb walking into the tiger’s mouth, and his life would be over.

Later, his eyes were red and sore from strain, so painful he rubbed them repeatedly, almost crying, but still he dared not relax.

Actually, after Xie Jue fell deeply asleep, he could have tried to sneak away, but he didn’t dare take that risk. To reach the position of Demon Lord, Xie Jue’s cultivation must be astonishingly high. How could he lose awareness of his surroundings even in sleep? Or else he would have been assassinated long ago.

It wasn’t until dawn, when Xie Jue got up and left, that he slowly climbed off the bed, legs trembling, barely able to stand. His legs were numb, like countless ants gnawing at them.

He limped back to Yulan Hall.

Since he had informed Qingping earlier, his absence for the whole night wasn’t unusual. But when Qingping saw his young master’s terrible complexion, dark circles under his eyes, exhausted, coupled with black hair and white robes, he looked more like a ghost than if he had deliberately dressed as one.

Qingping was shocked. He hurried forward to support his arm. “Young master, are you alright?!”

Su Zhuozhi sighed deeply. “…I’m dying.”

“Pfft, pfft, childish words bring no offense! Heavens, please don’t take it seriously! Young master, don’t talk nonsense!”

But Su Zhuozhi really felt he was about to die from sleep deprivation. He collapsed onto the bed, looking utterly resigned. Even if the sky fell, he would sleep first.

He had thought all night, and realized his options were truly limited. The gap in cultivation was too wide—calling it a fight of an egg against a stone was not an exaggeration. Moreover, when he discovered Xie Jue was a demonic cultivator, he hadn’t taken it seriously, hadn’t hidden properly. Xie Jue might have sensed something strange and already suspected him.

Thinking of that, Su Zhuozhi’s head ached so much he wanted to smash it against the pillow and just die.

After a full, satisfying sleep, he finally woke up.

Su Zhuozhi sat on the bedside, hands propped on either side, head lowered, in an unprecedented silence.

When Qingping entered and saw the young master like this, he was surprised and worried. He slowed his steps and approached softly, asking, “Is the young master in a bad mood?”

After a moment, Su Zhuozhi looked up, same as usual, rubbing his eyes. His voice was hoarse. “I don’t want to get up.”

Qingping breathed a sigh of relief. “Then sleep a bit more after eating. If not, you’ll faint from hunger.”

“Mm.” He let Qingping help him change clothes and wash up, then went to eat.

In the following days, to Qingping and Wanying, the young master had lost the awkwardness of the previous two days and seemed to have returned to his usual personality.

His attitude toward Xie Jue was also like before—close, dependent, with a radiant smile.

Su Zhuozhi felt he was putting on the performance of a lifetime. If not for this, he wouldn’t have known he had such talent.

In just two days, they would return to Ten Thousand Swords Sect.

Before, Su Zhuozhi would have dragged his feet, showing a pained and reluctant expression, not wanting to go at all. But now that he knew Xie Jue’s true identity, he felt that leaving was the best option.

When Xie Jue suggested leaving earlier, he nodded in agreement.

Because he remembered that night, the protector had told Xie Jue that a rebellion had broken out in the demon realm, requiring the honored one to return and deal with those restless people.

That happened just in time. Xie Jue would leave voluntarily, and he wouldn’t have to worry about how to break ties with him. How could Su Mansion have any connection with the Demon Lord?

But after waiting for several days, Xie Jue still hadn’t mysteriously disappeared. Panic set in. Why isn’t he leaving yet? He couldn’t help glancing at Xie Jue again and again, restless.

What was Xie Jue waiting for?

Perhaps his gaze was too frequent and obvious, Xie Jue looked back at him. Su Zhuozhi tensed, instinctively picked up his teacup, and took a large gulp. But he had forgotten—it was freshly boiled hot tea. The heat made him suck in a breath, covering his mouth with a whimper, the corners of his eyes turning red, tears welling up.

Xie Jue immediately pinched his chin, pulled his hand away, and squeezed his cheeks to force his mouth open. Then he looked down to check his tongue. It was bright red, slightly scalded, but fortunately not serious.

Xie Jue picked up an ice cube and fed it into his mouth to soothe the pain with cold.

The icy coolness spread across his tongue, bringing immediate relief.

Su Zhuozhi pursed his lips. Before Xie Jue’s hand could touch the corner of his eye, he wiped away his tears himself. There was an imperceptible evasion in his movement.

He couldn’t help it. Although he tried hard to act as if nothing had happened, pretending to be his former self, as long as he remembered that the person in front of him was the Demon Lord, he couldn’t control his nervousness and panic. He was terrified that in the next instant, Xie Jue’s hand would land on his head, crushing his skull, or grab his neck, snap it, and kill him without hesitation.

Xie Jue’s hand grasped empty air. He curled his fingers, then slowly, as if nothing had happened, withdrew.

But Su Zhuozhi clearly felt the gaze behind him, like a prickling on his back, making his scalp tingle.

Then, a cold touch met his face—doing what Xie Jue had just failed to do. The pad of the finger gently stroked.

Su Zhuozhi’s breath caught. His body trembled. Instinctively, he wanted to jump far away, but reason held him back. His previous evasion was already inappropriate; if he did anything more out of character, it would be an obvious signal to Xie Jue that he knew something he shouldn’t.

So, trembling, he reached out and grabbed the corner of Xie Jue’s sleeve, stammering, “It… it’s happening again…”

Xie Jue said gently, “It’s appearing again?”

Su Zhuozhi nodded with difficulty, an ice cube in his mouth, making a vague sound.

Xie Jue placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him into a loose embrace, soothing him: “Don’t be afraid.”

Almost simultaneously, the demonic energy disappeared.

Su Zhuozhi’s forehead rested on Xie Jue’s shoulder. Before, he had been so grateful to have him by his side, so dependent on him. Now, he just wanted to bite him to death.

Don’t think I don’t know it’s you causing trouble!

After a moment, Su Zhuozhi acted like someone relieved after a ghostly encounter, letting out a breath and pulling out of Xie Jue’s arms, putting distance between them.

On the day of departure for Ten Thousand Swords Sect, the entire Su Mansion was reluctant to let the young master go, seeing him off.

And Su Zhuozhi had already made preparations, leaving defensive artifacts and opening a powerful barrier to protect his family.

Once they set off, it was just the two of them.

Su Zhuozhi suppressed his inner trembling, comforting himself: It’s fine. The Demon Lord is going back to the demon realm; we’ll separate soon.

That’s what he thought, but they had traveled more than half the distance, and Xie Jue showed no intention of leaving. In fact, he even suggested taking a different route.

A terrifying thought suddenly popped into Su Zhuozhi’s mind.

Could it be that Xie Jue… intends to take him to the demon realm too?!

So far, he still didn’t know Xie Jue’s purpose for coming to Su Mansion.

Regardless, he absolutely couldn’t go to the demon realm. Going to the enemy’s territory would mean being at someone’s mercy, and escape would be even harder.

Now was the last chance.

Xie Jue was startled, apparently having completely forgotten about this.

Silence for a long time.

Just when Su Zhuozhi thought he would refuse, Xie Jue nodded and said, “Alright.”

Su Zhuozhi’s heart relaxed. He raised his lips, smiling brightly and innocently, more dazzling than the sun.

After resting for one night, probably because he thought about the successful escape, Su Zhuozhi’s nervousness eased considerably. He deliberately let himself forget Xie Jue’s identity, letting himself play freely. He strolled through the lively market with Xie Jue, stopping whenever he saw something interesting.

Both of them had outstanding looks. As they walked along the street, many people turned to look. The stall owner, seeing Su Zhuozhi’s pretty face and sweet smile, even gave him a discount.

At a mask stall, Su Zhuozhi picked a delicately carved cat mask. He turned and asked Xie Jue which one he liked. Without any hesitation, Xie Jue reached out and picked a white fox mask.

Su Zhuozhi was a little surprised. He had thought Xie Jue would choose the dog mask beside it, though he didn’t know why.

They put on the masks and strolled around a bit more before returning to the inn.

Su Zhuozhi didn’t go back to his room immediately. Instead, he shoved all his purchases into Xie Jue’s hands and said enthusiastically, “I’m going to the kitchen to make you longevity noodles. Wait for me.”

With that, he hurried to the innkeeper, explained the situation, and borrowed the kitchen.

Xie Jue watched his smiling profile, and couldn’t help but curl his own lips slightly. Then, obediently, he returned to his room to wait for Su Zhuozhi.

However, a little over half an hour later.

The door was knocked on, but it was a waiter who entered.

The waiter carried a wooden tray, on which was a steaming bowl of longevity noodles. The noodles were uneven in thickness, some stuck together, and the appearance was hardly good. But because Xie Jue knew that Su Zhuozhi had made them with his own hands, he felt only fondness.

He stepped forward to take the tray, looked behind the waiter, didn’t see the person he wanted, and asked, “Where is my young master?”

The waiter shook his head. “I don’t know. That guest only told me to bring the noodles up.”

Xie Jue picked up the chopsticks, instinctively assuming that the young master, after cooking the noodles, had gone to wash his face and hands because of the mess—just like last time in the secret realm. Probably worried the noodles would get sticky, he had someone send them up first.

Just as the waiter was about to leave the room, he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right. He also asked me to pass on a message: ‘Happy birthday.'”

Xie Jue’s hand tightened on the chopsticks, snapping the noodles in half. They fell back into the bowl, spattering soup.

If the young master was coming over soon, why would he have the waiter deliver a message?

Unless he wasn’t coming.

Xie Jue recalled Su Zhuozhi’s recent strange behavior. A glint flashed in his eyes, and he suddenly understood.

“Guest! Longevity noodles must not break! It’s unlucky!”

The waiter exclaimed, but Xie Jue seemed not to see or hear. He rushed downstairs, faster than the eye could follow. In the blink of an eye, he had vanished. The waiter only felt a cold gust of wind pass by.

In the kitchen, Xie Jue surveyed everything, every place that could hide a person. The head chef saw him and said discontentedly, “Who are you? Guests aren’t allowed in here.”

Xie Jue cast a cold glance at him, instantly silencing him, sending a chill down his spine.

That was the look of someone looking at a dead person.

The chef thought, if he said one more word out of line, this man would definitely kill him! Absolutely!

After the man searched for something, presumably finding nothing, and finally left the kitchen, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Their legs gave out, and they stumbled, leaning against the stovetops.

In truth, Su Zhuozhi had not left the inn. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t get far, and it would be easy for Xie Jue to catch him.

So, he deliberately left some false clues to mislead Xie Jue in the wrong direction, while he himself stayed at the inn, even hiding in Xie Jue’s own room, concealing his aura.

The principle of “darkness under the lamp” – the last place Xie Jue would look was his own room.

Su Zhuozhi thought his plan was perfect.

That belief lasted until he heard footsteps.

Xie Jue was back!

His heart instantly tightened, nerve-wracked. He watched helplessly as Xie Jue walked to the table and sat down, picked up the chopsticks, and continued eating the bowl of noodles that had already gone cold.

After so long, the noodles were a sticky mess, and the soup had congealed into a thin film of oil. The already mediocre noodles became utterly unpalatable.

But Xie Jue’s expression didn’t change. Bite by bite, he ate it all, even drinking the soup.

He looked so calm and indifferent.

But Su Zhuozhi saw it clearly. The overwhelming demonic energy surged madly, rapidly spreading and engulfing the entire room, even reaching the corner of the bed where he was hiding.

What was worse, Xie Jue suddenly stood up and walked toward the bed.

He found me?! Was it because of the demonic energy?

Su Zhuozhi stared wide-eyed at Xie Jue’s outstretched hand, backing away as far as he could, desperately shrinking himself into a tiny ball, pressed tightly against the bedpost. If he could, he would have burrowed into the wall.

That cold, fair, slender hand advanced inch by inch, approaching his ankle. In the next instant, it could seize him.

Su Zhuozhi couldn’t help but swallow nervously.

Then he saw Xie Jue’s hand brush past, just barely missing him. It turned out he was only testing, not actually sensing his presence. Even so, that intuition was terrifying.

Xie Jue withdrew his hand, his expression icy, as if covered with frost and snow.

“Better run far away. Don’t let me find you.”

Hearing those words, Su Zhuozhi’s heart thumped heavily. He couldn’t help but wonder: if he was found, what would happen? Would Xie Jue kill him with extremely cruel methods?

He had heard that some demonic cultivators increase their cultivation by devouring other cultivators. Would Xie Jue devour him as well?

The more he thought, the more he trembled in cowardice.

Xie Jue left the room, but he still didn’t dare move, remaining curled up in the corner.

That was a very wise decision.

Because a tea time later, Xie Jue returned and scanned the room again. This time, he truly left.

Su Zhuozhi couldn’t help cursing in his heart.

Demonic cultivators are truly insidious and cunning!

Only after making sure this time was really safe did he slowly crawl out from under the bed, cautiously looking left and right, and prepare to get down.

The moment his feet touched the ground, his whole body was weak, and he collapsed, sitting dazedly on the floor.

His legs had gone weak from fear.

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