Xie Linlang couldn’t be sure if Shen He was Pei Ji reincarnated, but when he saw the uneasy and bewildered expression on the boy’s face, his heart softened.
It had been too long since he last saw a face so similar to Pei Ji’s—one so vividly alive, full of the vitality and vigor of the living, not just a painted image.
Xie Linlang gazed quietly for a long time before letting out a sigh.
Regardless of whether Shen He was or not, since he had become a remnant soul in Shen He’s Jade Pendant, perhaps there was some karmic tie between them.
…In other words, he was already here. Having a substitute wasn’t bad.
No more hesitation.
“Just call me Dao Ye.”
Xie Linlang said calmly, “I wasn’t a Demonic Cultivator in life, so I’m not clear on your Demonic Cultivator ways, but the path of cultivation has similarities everywhere. I can teach you miscellaneous cultivation arts.”
Shen He was first stunned, then said in disbelief, “You—you were an Orthodox Cultivator? Wait, I heard from the sect Martial Uncles that usually only great Demonic Cultivator seniors who failed Tribulation Transcendence look for juniors to help resolve their disasters…”
Xie Linlang chuckled lightly. “Your sect Martial Uncles spoke harshly, but they didn’t lie. People have good and evil, heaven has day and night, Dao and demonic rise and fall like the yin-yang fish in endless cycle—neither superior nor inferior. Any cultivator might face accidents upon falling and become a remnant soul adrift in the world. If a spirit artifact capable of containing or capturing remnant souls appears at that time, it becomes a situation like mine.”
Shen He pondered this carefully before asking cautiously, “What do you want? I’m weak and don’t know if I can help you…”
Xie Linlang sized up Shen He. “You’re right. You’re too weak now. Get stronger, then pay me back.”
He hadn’t known before, but now that he’d discovered what seemed to be Pei Ji reincarnated, Xie Linlang suddenly found motivation to cultivate again.
He might wait a lifetime without results, but what if?
What if Pei Ji really had reincarnated? If he himself fell and could never meet Pei Ji again, that would be infuriating enough to make him sit up in his grave just thinking about it.
Though he was now just a remnant soul, as Shen He’s strength grew, Xie Linlang could draw power from him. Once accumulated to a certain degree, paired with special pills and heavenly treasures, he might even reconstruct his true body!
At that moment, the formation outside Shen He’s room was triggered by someone.
Shen He paused, quickly stowed the jade pendant, opened the door, and saw Pang Sanxian drenched in sweat.
“Uh, you…”
Before Shen He could speak, he saw Pang Sanxian’s plump face squeeze into a fawning smile.
“Ah, Junior Brother Shen, I didn’t hurt you earlier, did I?”
Shen He’s expression grew strange. There was still a shoe print on Pang Sanxian’s face—from him, or rather, from Dao Ye. Who had hurt whom, exactly?
Why was this guy so arrogant before and servile now? What had happened?
Shen He paused. Years of dealing with all sorts of diners in the main hall, plus selling Steamed Cakes with Grandpa in his childhood, had made his waist more flexible than his peers’. He smiled bitterly, cupped his fists proactively, and said, “I’m fine, Senior Brother Pang. Since we entered the sect together, we’re stronger than those unknown fellow disciples. Please take care of this little brother in the future.”
Pang Sanxian was overjoyed. “Exactly! Earlier, Senior Brother’s brain was waterlogged. From now on, we brothers should help each other!”
He paused, then leaned to Shen He’s ear and whispered about the cafeteria incident.
“…That Lin Shibo was obviously doing it on purpose. Good thing you didn’t give me those Class Hours Points, or I’d be one of Lin Shibo’s Medicine People now.”
Shen He opened his mouth. So his Portable Dao Ye had saved Pang Sanxian once more?
He continued smiling bitterly. “Senior Brother Pang, Demonic Cultivators’ cheap gains aren’t that easy to take. Even in the sect…”
Halfway through Shen He’s words, Xie Linlang’s voice suddenly rang in his mind.
Xie Linlang didn’t want to waste time. “You’re a Menial Disciple. You can apply to help in the Pill Room. Your Lin Shibo suddenly has a batch of Medicine People and must need many Menial Disciples to tend them. Go apply—not only can you freeload some pills, but you might snag some discarded materials. Dao Ye will refine them for you and quickly boost your cultivation.”
Shen He blanked out for a moment.
Lin Shibo always researched bizarre, spine-chilling pills. Sect disciples avoided the Pill Room unless necessary. But fortune favored the bold. With no background or resources, he had to take risks to grow stronger.
Besides, he now had a Portable Dao Ye. For as long as he was useful, Dao Ye wouldn’t let him die, right?
“…Even the sect’s cheap gains must be seized with strategy.”
Shen He seamlessly shifted his attitude. “Think about it—we’re taking gains in the sect. Even if we fail, as long as there’s a chance of survival, the sect won’t abandon us. But if we fail grabbing gains outside, it’s instant death!”
“If we don’t accumulate experience in the sect, what then when we go out?”
Pang Sanxian was dumbfounded. What nonsense was Shen He spouting?
But why did it sound so reasonable?
Shen He pushed open the door to leave.
“Junior Brother Shen? Where are you going?”
“To the Pill Room to ask if they need Menial Disciples.”
Pang Sanxian’s pupils shook. Had Junior Brother Shen gone mad?
