RIIDMDR chapter 126

 

After filling his stomach, Nan Xu didn’t dare linger. He set out again. For some reason, he found it difficult to cheer up. Sometimes, when Tingchuan spoke to him, he didn’t seem to hear at all. After a while, he would suddenly snap out of it and continue the conversation.

After this happened a few times, Tingchuan felt something was wrong, and even Nan Xu was confused. He pinched his own face, trying to shake off his sluggishness. His fingers pressed hard enough to sting, and his whole cheek turned red, yet his mind still felt mushy.

Maybe he hadn’t rested well last night, and sleeping on the takin’s back this morning had made him groggy.

“Why do you want to see Jing Yuan?” Tingchuan asked.

Nan Xu was startled by the question. This time, it wasn’t because his mind was unclear; he simply couldn’t answer. Why did he want to go to the South Sea? It felt like an impulse yet also like the only path all other roads converged on.

Unable to answer, he described the sorrow and unease he felt when he heard the news about Jing Yuan. At the end, he joked, “Maybe I’m just kindhearted. I can’t bear to hear bad news about others. Besides, after hearing the demons mention him so many times and learning that he’s the last Azure Dragon in the world, I’d regret it if I didn’t see him at least once.”

He guessed randomly, but Tingchuan asked, “Have you thought that maybe it’s some kind of instinct within you that hasn’t awakened yet, wanting to see him?”

Nan Xu: “Ah?”

Nan Xu was confused. “I’m traveling here now. Isn’t that already my conscious decision?”

Tingchuan chuckled. “True.”

Along the way, Tingchuan suddenly started telling him stories from thousands of years ago. Back then, the demon realm was peaceful. There were no fights over spiritual energy or land. The occasional small conflict between races was understandable. At that time, Jing Yuan lived on the Eastern Sea Mountain, where he cultivated with single-minded focus. One day, Yun Yi came up the mountain with a young demon whose true form couldn’t be seen. Jing Yuan followed behind them. What first caught Tingchuan’s attention was that Yun Yi and Jing Yuan could coexist peacefully.

Nan Xu listened intently and forgot about his fatigue. “Why couldn’t they get along peacefully?”

The moment he asked, an image flashed in his mind: two demons fighting amidst rolling clouds, wind, and thunder.

“Because everyone in the demon realm knew that Yun Yi had a domineering temper. No matter the reason, if he disagreed with someone, he would start a fight. Jing Yuan was also difficult to get along with because everything he said sounded like mockery. So the fact that they didn’t fight was really surprising,” Tingchuan explained.

Nan Xu hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Is it possible they fought first and then went up the mountain to find you?”

“Yes, though perhaps they hadn’t fought enough below the mountain because, not long after arriving, they tore my place apart again,” Tingchuan said lightly.

Nan Xu: …

Those two together really were like walking huskies!

“You didn’t make them pay for your house?” Nan Xu asked, finding it hard to imagine Tingchuan being bullied.

Tingchuan replied, “I kept them on the mountain to rebuild it for me. It took them more than a year, working on and off.”

Nan Xu couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Yun Yi and Jing Yuan looking miserable. “And they just listened to that? Didn’t they resist?”

“They did. But I told them that everything in my house was ancient and priceless. If they refused to rebuild it, I would send word to their clans to compensate me.”

“What kind of ancient treasures? How valuable could they be?” Nan Xu asked curiously.

Tingchuan seemed amused by the memory. He laughed and said, “Not that valuable—just enough to buy their entire clan’s territory.”

Nan Xu froze, unable to imagine how much that was worth. He murmured, “You’re…you’re really rich.”

Tingchuan laughed. “Actually, there were only two rare items in the house. I bluffed, and they believed me.”

Nan Xu: …

“But the little demon they brought along was the real fool. He had nothing to do with it, yet he stayed on the mountain and did hard labor for over a year—even more diligently than the two of them. What do you think?” Tingchuan glanced at Nan Xu.

Nan Xu nodded in agreement.

While they talked, they didn’t slow their pace at all. The takin, lazy after sleeping through the winter, seemed to have found its strength again after half a day of traveling. Trees blurred past them on either side, and Nan Xu gripped the leather reins tightly. He could barely see the road ahead as they sped forward.

After rushing all day, they finally stopped for the night. Nan Xu was dizzy and exhausted. He didn’t even bother eating; he fell asleep as soon as he lay down.

Tingchuan had only gone to fetch water. When he returned, he found Nan Xu fast asleep. For someone so clean and particular, it was an odd sight to see him now lying sprawled on a fur blanket that didn’t even fully cover the muddy ground.

The human body really was fragile.

Tingchuan properly spread out the wrinkled blanket, tucked clothes under Nan Xu’s neck, and checked his forehead for a fever. Seeing none, he went outside to start a fire.

The next morning, when Nan Xu woke up, the campfire outside was still burning. A few roasted sweet potatoes lay nearby, and steam rose from a clay kettle. Tingchuan sat with his eyes closed, resting.

Nan Xu took out a jar of ointment and rubbed some on the inside of his thigh. Though he’d slept all night, his eyelids were heavy and he was still sore and tired. He gave a bitter smile. He used to be able to sleep on wooden planks or in concrete tubes, but now, even riding an animal all day wore him out.

He crawled out of the tent quietly, but the sound still woke Tingchuan. Seeing Nan Xu’s pale, weary face, Tingchuan frowned. That night, when Nan Xu stopped to rest, Tingchuan went hunting and returned with two pheasants.

…

After three or four days of traveling, Nan Xu finally reached the edge of Zhu Yu Mountain. In the distance, he saw a huge glowing billboard, and he thought that, for once, the system could be quite reliable.

Not long after leaving the mountain, before he could marvel at the sight, a wave of dizziness hit him. His head throbbed violently, as if an iron rod were stirring inside his skull. He instinctively clutched his head, and in the blink of an eye, cold sweat covered his forehead.

Hearing the commotion, Tingchuan turned around sharply and saw Nan Xu groaning in pain. His pupils contracted as he shouted for the takin to stop. Startled, the beast halted suddenly, and Nan Xu, like a kite with its string cut, fell straight off its back.

He didn’t react at all—either he didn’t notice, or the pain in his head was stronger than the pain from falling. Fortunately, Tingchuan had been quick enough to catch him.

After a moment, the pain eased slightly, but Nan Xu still trembled and was unable to speak coherently. He looked up at Tingchuan with red-rimmed eyes and could only cling to his arm, letting out low whimpers.

Tingchuan knelt down and rummaged through his pack. He found external medicine and cold medicine, but neither could help Nan Xu’s current state.

As he searched, Nan Xu’s pain gradually subsided. Drenched in sweat and gasping for air, he leaned against Tingchuan’s leg.

“I’m fine now,” Nan Xu said weakly.

Tingchuan shoved the useless medicine back into his bag, uncorked a gourd, and fed Nan Xu water. His tone was no longer relaxed. “What kind of human illness is this?”

Nan Xu shook his head, his pale lips parting slightly. “I don’t know. I’ve never had it checked.”

Tingchuan’s arms tightened around him slightly. “It’s the second time already.”

Nan Xu shook his head. “It’s different from before.”

He could clearly feel the difference. Last time, after the pain subsided, his body had felt lighter. But this time… Nan Xu pressed his lips together and didn’t tell Tingchuan directly. He felt as if something inside him was slipping away, leaving him drained and exhausted.

Fortunately, the strange episode didn’t happen again afterward. Once they were out of the mountains, the roads became smoother and demons passed by more frequently, making travel easier. Ignoring Tingchuan’s objections, Nan Xu insisted on traveling day and night.

The path was dusty, and though the weather hadn’t fully warmed up, there was little time for conversation. Nonstop travel was dull and tiring, and Nan Xu grew weaker by the day.

Thankfully, as they entered the southern region, the air became warm and humid. After five or six more days, they finally reached the seaside.

The waves surged endlessly, carrying the scent of salt. Nan Xu dismounted and held the reins while asking the vast ocean, “Is this the South Sea?”

After a long winter, his fair complexion had become rough again, and he had lost weight. He looked so frail that only his bones seemed to keep him upright.

Tingchuan didn’t understand why Nan Xu was being so stubborn, refusing to rest and barely eating. Seeing him like this pained Tingchuan deeply.

He nodded. “Yes, this is part of the South Sea. Jing Yuan’s place is still a day or two away.”

Nan Xu had never traveled far in the human world nor seen the ocean before. He thought he would be overwhelmed by the sight, but instead, he felt calm, as though he had seen it countless times before.

“Let’s go. How do we get there?” Nan Xu remembered Tingchuan saying that Jing Yuan had moved from the seabed to an island after being injured. Yet, there were no boats here.

Tingchuan hadn’t explained. He led Nan Xu for about half a li until they stopped at the edge of a territory. It looked like a small village with stone houses that were low and simple. They looked cruder than the houses built by the canine clan, but the weathered stone showed that they had stood for many years.

This was the first demon territory Nan Xu had entered since leaving Zhu Yu Mountain. As soon as they crossed the boundary, the door of a stone house opened and an old man walked out toward them. He was hunched over.

As he approached, he tilted his head slightly and looked first at Nan Xu, who was holding the serow reins. His cloudy eyes lingered on Nan Xu for a while before shifting to Tingchuan.

A few seconds later, recognition flickered in his eyes. “Senior Tingchuan?” he said uncertainly.

Nan Xu felt an odd sensation crawl up his back—it was strange to hear an old man address someone else as “senior.”

He shifted uncomfortably, and Tingchuan glanced at him before asking the old man, “How is Jing Yuan now?”

The old man’s excitement faded at that question, and he hunched his back even more. He shook his head. “Not well. He fainted and hasn’t woken up yet. A few days ago, Bai from West Mountain came to treat him. He can only stay conscious for a short while each day. It won’t last long.”

Sadness filled his voice, and Nan Xu could clearly sense his grief.

“I’ll go see him. Keep the serow here for us. We’ll take it back when we return,” said Tingchuan.

The old man nodded repeatedly.

After leaving the area, Nan Xu asked, “Why did we have to stop and ask for news? The serow understands words. If it can’t come with us, there’s no need to ask a demon to guard it.”

Tingchuan replied, “We don’t live in the South Sea, and we don’t have a passageway. To reach the Sea Realm, we need them to open the gate.”

After his explanation, Nanxu understood that the other regions had their own restrictions to prevent invasion by foreign demons, apart from the north. This was a form of self-protection for the various demon races in an era of scarce spiritual energy. The controls in some areas were not very strict. However, given the incident at Jingyuan in the South Sea, they will definitely strengthen their defenses. The old man who was just there was a sea turtle, guarding the sea border gates alongside several other clans. Delivering the serow was a way of asking for a pass so that he wouldn’t be blocked outside the sea border.

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