I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 46
Li Xinglun felt someone desperately trying to hold him amidst the dizzying chaos. Though his eyes couldn’t open and he couldn’t see the person’s face, the familiar aura and the flutter in his heart told him it was the one he deeply loved. He reached back and wrapped his arms around Changkong Zhuoyu’s waist, using the height he’d gained after reshaping his body through the Blood-Severing Art to embrace his master completely.
Changkong Zhuoyu, who had intended to protect his disciple from the spatial turbulence, for some reason felt a subtle irritation in his heart. Clearly, this disciple was so filial, knowing to protect him with his own body at a dangerous time — such a well-behaved disciple, what could he possibly be dissatisfied with?
Before he could figure it out, Li Xinglun was already holding Changkong Zhuoyu and rolling onto a lush green meadow. The two of them spun several times on the soft green carpet before coming to a stop with Changkong Zhuoyu lying on the grass and Li Xinglun above him, arms tightly around his waist.
The moment he could open his eyes, Li Xinglun stared straight at Changkong Zhuoyu. They were so close their noses were almost touching. For some reason, Changkong Zhuoyu suddenly felt his face heat up. He quickly pushed Li Xinglun away, jumped up with a “whoosh,” tidied his clothes, and hastily glanced around. Seeing no living creatures nearby, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
“Master…” Li Xinglun slowly got up from the grass, looking at Changkong Zhuoyu. “You didn’t get hit, did you?”
“I have profound power — how could I be hurt?” Changkong Zhuoyu replied with a stern face. “You, on the other hand, have low cultivation. You should have let me protect you. Next time you are not allowed to be so disobedient.”
Li Xinglun felt as sweet as if his heart had been dipped in honey. He slowly approached Changkong Zhuoyu and mischievously reminded him: “Master seems to have forgotten that I’m already a blood cultivator. Although my power is still far inferior to yours, I’m already very close to the undying and indestructible stage.”
The words “blood cultivator” were simply the deepest pain in Changkong Zhuoyu’s heart. He grabbed his collar, the mask on his face completely cracking, and said with a look of grief: “I… really can’t be Xue Qianjie? What if — what if something miraculous happens later?”
Li Xinglun smiled and said, “It seems impossible. Master must understand that I practiced the Blood-Severing Art, so I understand blood cultivation best. Once you start cultivating it, you can’t stop, and you definitely won’t switch to another cultivation method. As a blood cultivator, even if you wanted to switch, your body wouldn’t allow it.”
For some reason, Li Xinglun felt a deep malice in his heart toward Xue Qianjie. Changkong Zhuoyu had unknowingly shed tears before Xue Qianjie’s portrait, and among all his identities, he was most obsessed with Xue Qianjie. This made Li Xinglun have to wonder: before severing the past, just what connection did Changkong Zhuoyu have with Xue Qianjie that made him value him so much?
He couldn’t endure it — he was jealous.
Seeing Changkong Zhuoyu’s hopeless expression, his gaze distant as though bidding someone farewell, Li Xinglun stepped forward, embraced his master, and wiped the tears from the corner of his eye with his index finger.
“It’s alright. Master, don’t be sad. You’re bound to be a hundred times stronger and more famous than Xue Qianjie. My master is a towering, one-of-a-kind figure. What is a mere Xue Qianjie?” Li Xinglun hugged his master to comfort him, not realizing that last sentence was his true feelings.
“But… but…” Changkong Zhuoyu’s voice even carried a sob. “Among all these identities, he was the most legendary, the most handsome, the most famous, the most imposing!”
{Poor man. He tries to hold on to the only thing he has left of his lover — a self-projection of a memory not even remembered but instinctively felt.}
Even though he knew Changkong Zhuoyu liked such things, Li Xinglun almost didn’t want to comfort him. Still, he hugged his master tightly, unwilling to let go.
Changkong Zhuoyu felt his heart was deeply wounded. He clung to Li Xinglun without letting go, and the two of them held each other together passionately on the picturesque meadow of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley — until a seductive face appeared beside them.
The moment Changkong Zhuoyu realized he’d been seen, he immediately jumped out of Li Xinglun’s arms, wooden sword falling into his hand, and with murderous intent pointed at the suddenly appearing enchanting man: “Who are you?!”
“Oh? You two uninvited guests — why are you the ones asking that question?” The man was dressed in purple, with six fluffy large tails swaying behind him and a pair of narrow phoenix eyes born with innate charm. “How come I didn’t know that in our Green Hills, there were yao other than foxes?”
After speaking, he sniffed the air and looked at Li Xinglun: “Such a strong smell of blood. Did you sneak out of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley to kill people? Weren’t you caught by those Daoists? If you’re dead and have your yao core dug out it’s nothing, but don’t let someone sneak into the Mystic Fog Valley. This is our yao clan’s sacred ground — humans are not allowed in.”
Oh? Li Xinglun raised an eyebrow slightly. This Six-tailed Fox’s nose seemed sharp enough, yet why hadn’t he smelled the human scent on them?
For himself, it was probably because being a blood cultivator had erased his human aura. Foxes weren’t the most sensitive of yao — smelling the blood energy on him made them overlook his lack of yao aura. As for Changkong Zhuoyu… Li Xinglun’s heart sank again. He really couldn’t be sure if his master still counted as human.
If he truly was an awakened ancient god, then it was no wonder the Six-tailed Fox couldn’t recognize him.
“Get lost,” one of the fluffy tails wrapped around the fox yao’s neck as he caressed it and said, “Originally, the Green Hills didn’t allow other yao clans in, but you two look so good — I’ll turn a blind eye. Hurry and leave before the Elder sees you. He loves beautiful men the most. If he finds you, you won’t be able to leave.”
The Mountain of Green Hills — it is said to house yao shaped like a fox with nine tails, whose cry resembles that of an infant; it preys on humans, yet those it consumes are not bewitched or cursed but simply eaten in flesh. This place is the legendary Green Hills, the domain of the nine-tailed fox?
{Green Hills — Qingqiu. All fox names start with the same character "qing" implying a green-blue hue, and their fur has the same base color.}
Changkong Zhuoyu looked around with great interest and discovered that the meadow they lay upon was not a plain at all but atop a hill. This entire stretch of rolling hills was covered in grass as soft as a green carpet, dressing the hills in a layer of green gauze.
“Hey, good-looking one, what are you staring at? Not leaving yet?” The man’s tails swayed as he spoke. “The barrier between the Mystic Fog Valley and the human realm has loosened. The Grand Elder will come to inspect soon. If you don’t leave now, you really won’t be able to.”
His charming eyes roamed over Changkong Zhuoyu repeatedly, nearly falling out. Li Xinglun frowned, stepped in front of Changkong Zhuoyu, and, being half a head taller than his master, blocked the fox yao’s gaze.
Changkong Zhuoyu, once again blocked by his disrespectful disciple, widened his eyes and lightly thumped Li Xinglun’s back.
He ultimately couldn’t bear to hurt this disciple. And for some reason, from the first moment he saw Li Xinglun at the bottom of the Soul-Breaking Gorge, he had been deeply fond of him — otherwise he wouldn’t have shamelessly insisted on taking him as his disciple.
Just as the three of them were playing their game of blocking and dodging, a voice came from above: “Qingxin, who are you talking to? What little yao dared to trespass in the Green Hills? Do the elders of your clan know you sneaked out?”
That voice was magnetic and seductive, hard to tell whether it was male or female, making one’s heart itch. Li Xinglun and Changkong Zhuoyu looked up at the same time to see a man in green robes floating down from the sky. Though he had no tails behind him, Changkong Zhuoyu could feel the eight shadowy tails on him.
An Eight-Tailed Fox!
In ancient times, the power of the divine Nine-Tailed Fox was nearly comparable to a demigod. But now, there were no more Nine-Tailed Foxes in the world, the divine bloodline of the fox clan growing ever thinner — six tails was already Soul Transformation stage, seven could transcend tribulation, and eight could battle an immortal.
Li Xinglun immediately recognized that this man in green robes was exactly the Grand Elder the Six-tailed Qingxin had mentioned.
The Grand Elder descended to the ground as if strolling, his stunning beauty itself a delightful sight. Not to mention those affectionate eyes — with just one glance, he could capture a person’s heart and soul. When the Six-tailed Qingxin saw the Grand Elder, his face turned red at once, his previously mature and flirtatious demeanor vanishing, and he lowered his head shyly like a youth, mumbling: “Grand Elder, I… I was wrong.”
“Knowing your mistake makes you a good child.” The Grand Elder’s voice carried a faint husky allure. He stroked Qingxin’s cheek and said softly, “I know you’re obedient.”
Qingxin’s face grew even redder, trembling with happiness — the Grand Elder touched his face!
The fox clan was full of all kinds of charm, captivating the world. Whether male or female, they were all dangerously beautiful. The Grand Elder had already cultivated to eight tails; his seductive arts were at their peak. Even a Great Ascension expert caught unprepared would not withstand his slightest smile.
Yet before him stood Li Xinglun, who had no heart or blood left and therefore could not be moved {!}, and Changkong Zhuoyu, who considered himself the most beautiful in the world.
Seeing his disciple fixated on the Grand Elder, Changkong Zhuoyu was displeased. He tugged at Li Xinglun’s sleeve and wrote in his palm: [Disciple, don’t be bewitched by the fox yao.]
Li Xinglun was delighted, and gently traced in Changkong Zhuoyu’s palm: [Master, his looks can’t compare to even one ten-thousandth of yours. Having seen you, how could I be bewitched by a mere Eight-Tailed Fox?]
Changkong Zhuoyu was instantly overjoyed, though he still wore his usual proud and cold expression. He stepped out from behind Li Xinglun, swept a contemptuous gaze over the Eight-Tailed Fox, and said lightly: “I am not a yao of the Mystic Fog Valley. I come from the human realm.”
The Eight-Tailed Fox’s spring-breeze expression immediately darkened, his brows furrowed, killing intent lurking in his beautiful eyes, and his voice became low: “Oh? You are cultivators? Yet you carry no human aura — did you use some method to conceal it?”
He didn’t bother asking why the master and disciple came to the Mystic Fog Yao Valley. In the eyes of a yao cultivator, all cultivators — righteous or demonic — fell into two categories: those they could eat, and those strong enough to dig out their yao cores.
An Eight-Tailed Fox’s power was comparable to an immortal. However strong the cultivators were, how could they surpass him? To him, these two were clearly the edible kind.
“Enough,” the Eight-Tailed Fox said coolly, “what I asked earlier doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is — it’s been a long time since I’ve tasted a human.”
Changkong Zhuoyu let out a long sigh and said to Li Xinglun with an air of lonely grandeur: “Disciple, I had planned to come to the Mystic Fog Valley this time to make peace with the yao clan, but I didn’t expect — it seems we still have to fight.”
His tone was full of helplessness, but his eyes said something entirely different. Those bright eyes clearly said: “Smash this face that’s just a bit uglier than mine!”
Li Xinglun: “… …”
~ Chapter End ~
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