I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 70

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 Although Changkong Zhuoyu often felt like crying, the times he actually shed tears were rare. And even when he did, it was the restrained sort — leaning steadily, calmly, and maturely against his disciple’s shoulder, using sleep as an excuse to quietly let a few tears fall. Now, without thinking, he buried himself in Xue Qianjie’s arms, sobbing openly without a care for his image, weeping as though the sky had fallen — his grievances must have run deep.

Xue Qianjie — no, he should be called Li Xinglun now — felt a surge of emotion. For Changkong Zhuoyu, it had been only a dozen days since he’d seen his disciple, but for Li Xinglun, it had been a long two thousand years.

Over those two millennia, Xue Qianjie had no memories of being Li Xinglun. He could only hold onto a hopeless love for the Kunlun artifact, guarding the mortal realm for the sake of a being who had not even taken human form. He knew himself well enough — he was not someone who would normally sacrifice himself for others. The fate of the human world held little personal meaning for Xue Qianjie. Yet despite thinking this way, his resolve to protect the mortal realm never wavered. For a thousand years, he scoured every corner of the earth, burning away all traces of demonic energy before finally entering the demon realm.

There were two reasons he entered the demon realm. One was his doomed affection — having fallen in love with an ancient divine stone, Xue Qianjie didn’t even dare to imagine it would ever return his feelings. All he could do was guard it, ensuring the Heaven-Mending Stone would not perish from exhausting its divine power. The other was a voice in his mind, endlessly urging him to grow stronger. Strong enough for what, he didn’t know. Even though he was already the foremost cultivator in the world, his power rivaling that of a Great Golden Immortal, instinct told him this was still far from enough. The mortal world could no longer push him further; yet deep down, he resisted ascending. There was nowhere within the Three Realms and Six Paths for him to grow — only beyond them. He could not enter the god realm, so the demon realm was his only option.

There, like the demon creatures themselves, he devoured power — turning it into his own, absorbing the most evil forces of heaven and earth in a sea of blood, forging the body of a demon god.

It was an incredibly dangerous undertaking. Though such power was immense, it corroded the heart; a single misstep could lead to being demonized or devoured. Gaining strength here was like snatching chestnuts from the fire, with the likely end being annihilation.

Even so, Xue Qianjie stubbornly entered the demon realm from Mount Shu, leaving the Dripping Blood Sword behind to guard the Mount Shu Sword Tomb. In the demon realm, he fought his way through countless trials until he found the greatest gateway between the mortal and demon realms — the Kunlun Seal.

There, he once again felt the reassuring presence of the Kunlun divine formation. As long as that aura surrounded him, he would never fall to demonization. In Changkong Zhuoyu’s memories, Xue Qianjie had battled alone in the demon realm for a thousand years. But in Xue Qianjie’s own memory, Changkong Zhuoyu had never left his side.

Countless times, when he wanted to give up, nearly assimilated by the demons, that supreme yet gentle aura would wrap around him, giving him strength in his darkest moments — planting light and warmth in his heart again and again.

In that place, their auras merged, more intimately than even on Kunlun Mountain.

Thus he fought for a thousand years in the demon realm, enduring countless perils, until at last he became a demon god — strong enough to break the barrier and reenter the human world.

Leaving the Dripping Blood Sword in Mount Shu was a backup plan; through his life-bound artifact, he could return to the human realm and reseal the demon realm entrance at will.

This time, he could have entered the Kunlun divine formation directly, using his own power to nourish the Heaven-Mending Stone, helping it take human form — ensuring that the first thing it saw when it opened its eyes was him. He wanted its joy, anger, and sorrow to revolve around him, for it to belong to him.

But at that moment, deep in the demon realm, Xue Qianjie suddenly fell unconscious. His soul was drawn from his divine body, returning via the Dripping Blood Sword to the mortal realm — reborn as a newborn baby: Li Xinglun.

The demons coveted Xue Qianjie’s body. Yet unlike others, he had proven his Dao through slaughter and sealed his godhood with demonic power; in truth, he was a demon who had absorbed the entirety of the demon realm’s strength. Cultivation is cultivation of the heart — godhood and demonhood are separated by a single thought. To surrender all emotions to desire is to be a demon; to hold steadfast to one’s true heart is to be a god. Though Xue Qianjie’s body was of the demon, his soul was of the god. In the demon realm, the body of a demon god was the highest of symbols; no demon dared to consume him.

Of course, if the soul left the body for too long, it would eventually be re-demonized, its power returning to the demon realm to strengthen its denizens. Fortunately, Li Xinglun cultivated for only twenty-three years before using the Time-Space Wheel to travel back, enduring two thousand years of hardship before reuniting soul and body — before the demons could devour him.

Still, he had slept for too long.

It wasn’t until the Dripping Blood Sword absorbed Changkong Zhuoyu’s blood and ascended into a divine artifact, piercing deep into the demon realm to find Xue Qianjie, that he awoke.

Yet Xue Qianjie had not been Li Xinglun for far too long. Merging the memories of two lives was difficult; if not for the unwavering love that both Xue Qianjie and Li Xinglun held for Changkong Zhuoyu, the fusion might have failed, leaving Li Xinglun’s psyche fractured — two separate people inhabiting one body. That would have been disastrous.

Thankfully, there was Changkong Zhuoyu. No matter how many years passed, Li Xinglun and Xue Qianjie’s attachment had not wavered. At the most critical moment, they became one, and Li Xinglun awoke.

It was just a little too late — Changkong Zhuoyu was already trapped within the barrier, preparing to sacrifice his divine consciousness to seal the formation. But Li Xinglun was strong enough — strong enough to tear the divine formation open by sheer force and rush into the Candle Dragon’s body. After two thousand years, he once again held Changkong Zhuoyu in his arms.

“Master…” Li Xinglun’s voice was hoarse. It had been far too long since he had spoken, far too long since he’d uttered this title.

“Mm… mmh…” Changkong Zhuoyu had not yet cried his fill. Hearing Li Xinglun call him, he only buried his head deeper, sobbing as if the sun and moon had gone dark.

Li Xinglun: “…”

When he awoke, he had wondered — when he saw Changkong Zhuoyu, what should he do? After two thousand years apart, he was no longer the same person; could they still trust and rely on each other as before? Two thousand years was an eternity — could memory and longing alone restore what they once had?

He was afraid of the answer. He had thought to embrace Changkong Zhuoyu, kiss him, and — with his overwhelming power and the joy of reunion — coax his dazed master into dual cultivation, merging their souls. Once soulbound, there could be no more distance between them; with their spirits bound, there would be no more separation.

That had been his plan. But after the first step — embracing him — his master had simply wept bitterly, breaking his heart. He could do nothing but hold him tighter, closing every gap between them, clinging to the reunion he had yearned for over millennia.

“Master…” Li Xinglun murmured again, kissing the crown of his head.

His master hadn’t changed in two thousand years — still so prone to tears.

No — for Changkong Zhuoyu, it had been only a dozen days.

He gently drew his master’s face from his chest, seeing the red rims of his eyes. The Face-Changing Gu had long since been destroyed in the strain of time travel; this was Li Xinglun’s true face, the one he bore after severing blood — exactly like the portrait in Hundred Flowers Valley. His blood robe fluttered, his presence like that of an ancient demon god; mortal brush and ink could never capture even a fraction of his beauty.

He might even be more beautiful than Changkong Zhuoyu himself…

Suddenly, Changkong Zhuoyu felt like crying again.

Li Xinglun: “…”

Why was his master crying just from looking at him? Flustered, he dared not take advantage of the moment, and instead kissed away the tears at the corners of his master’s eyes, murmuring, “What can I do to stop your tears?”

Or perhaps — how could he make you cry only in my arms forever?

Such a conflicted thought was new to the always-decisive Xue Qianjie.

Having embarrassed himself before his disciple again, Changkong Zhuoyu gathered his strength, took Li Xinglun’s hand, and wiped his own tears. “I thought I had lost you.”

The Dripping Blood Sword had been gone so long without bringing Xue Qianjie back. Trapped in the demon realm for a thousand years, surely he had already been consumed — perhaps even among the demons now sealed in the formation.

He had entered the Candle Dragon’s heart ready to die with his disciple. His earlier unwillingness had turned to acceptance — even if Li Xinglun was among the enemy, he would not regret it.

Thankfully, Li Xinglun had not been devoured. He had kept his promise, grown immeasurably strong, and returned to his side.

At this thought, Changkong Zhuoyu’s lips trembled, his tears now born of joy.

Seeing nothing he did could stop them, Li Xinglun simply let his master cry to his heart’s content.

They stood together within the Candle Dragon’s body, surrounded by predatory demonic energy that dared not draw near, leaving a small haven just for the two of them.

Though the world outside was chaos, Li Xinglun’s heart bloomed. The awkwardness of two thousand years apart faded — his master would always be his master, with that effortless way of making others accept him.

When he had held and kissed him enough, Changkong Zhuoyu finally remembered their situation. “I haven’t yet taken my place as the array’s core to sustain it. Without that, the divine barrier will eventually be breached.”

“I won’t let you be the array’s core.” At these words, Li Xinglun banished all distracting thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. “This is why I became strong.”

“Good. Then I’ll teach you the incantations for using the Heaven-Mending Stone, and return to my original form. You’ll use me to move the formation into the Soul-Breaking Gorge.” As he spoke, Changkong Zhuoyu placed a finger between Li Xinglun’s brows, sending the incantations directly into his mind.

This was an ancient method of transmission, far more efficient than the modern cultivation world’s oral teachings or energy transfer, passing along even the cultivator’s personal insights without a shred of loss or misunderstanding.

Use... Master? Li Xinglun looked at Changkong Zhuoyu’s handsome face, reached out to touch it, and for some reason felt that strange thrill rise again.

He shook his head hard. No, this wasn’t right. This feeling was definitely not right...

It seemed that in these two thousand years, he had picked up quite a few questionable interests.

No matter what odd things he wanted to do to his master, it would have to wait until the matter at hand was settled.

Once Li Xinglun had received all the incantations, Changkong Zhuoyu returned to his original form. Since his transformation, he had never changed back, but now he became a tiny jade figurine, body clumsy and inconvenient to move, held in Li Xinglun’s palm — it felt strange.

The little jade figure was exquisitely carved, clearly a piece into which Nüwa had poured much effort. Li Xinglun brushed his fingertip over the tiny face — the features were exactly the same as his master’s. So his master hadn’t deliberately chosen to be the most beautiful in the world when he took human form — he simply had always been the most beautiful.

Two thousand years ago, even as a stone figure, Changkong Zhuoyu could control wind and sand and speak. Later, he even looked after the child Wanqi Xian. Now, even as a stone figure, transmitting his voice was no difficulty.

“What are you doing!” Changkong Zhuoyu’s voice, coming from the palm that held him, carried a touch of annoyance — whether from anger or embarrassment was unclear.

“I’m looking at you, Master.” Li Xinglun’s usually cold expression was now surprisingly gentle. He poked at the little jade face again, his eyes curving with a smile. “Master has always been this beautiful, hasn’t he?”

This was bad. Li Xinglun realized something was wrong — even looking at this tiny jade man, he could have thoughts he shouldn’t.

Perhaps because they were surrounded by a sea of blood, the white jade figure’s face seemed to take on a red tint. Changkong Zhuoyu’s voice came through transmission: “Of course. I’ve told you before, I’ve always been good-looking!”

“Master’s original form doesn’t have clothes...” Li Xinglun looked at the jade figurine in his palm with a complicated expression. Nüwa had sculpted him with perfection, like a god from myth, with a body in flawless proportion, of a size perfectly... suitable...

“My clothes are ‘spirit’ manifested! Have you ever seen any living being born wearing clothes?” Changkong Zhuoyu really wanted to grab a scrap of cloth and wrap himself up. Under Li Xinglun’s gaze, he felt unbearably... awkward.

Li Xinglun examined the jade figure from every angle before sighing. “Fortunately, Master is always surrounded by ‘spirit’ when meeting others. If anyone else saw your true form, I might have to go on a killing spree.”

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

Since returning from the demon realm, his disciple seemed... different.

According to Changkong Zhuoyu’s plan, Li Xinglun should now be using the incantations to embed him into the Candle Dragon’s heart, then channel the Heaven-Mending Stone’s full power to move the formation to the Soul-Breaking Gorge. Once there, Li Xinglun would remove him, restored to human form, and let him draw the Gorge’s divine power into the Candle Dragon’s body to fill the Heaven-Mending Stone’s place.

That was the plan. But now, looking at the jade figurine in his palm, how could Li Xinglun bear to embed something so crystal-clear and beautiful into a dragon’s bones?

Changkong Zhuoyu was no object — he could feel, he had a soul. Li Xinglun couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Disciple?” Changkong Zhuoyu asked, puzzled, as Li Xinglun instead tucked him carefully against his chest, close to his heart.

“If Master wants to enter someone’s heart, it should only be mine.” Li Xinglun raised the Dripping Blood Sword. “The Dripping Blood Sword was forged from your blood, carries the Heaven-Mending Stone’s aura. I can use it instead — I just need to borrow some of your true essence.”

He drove the Dripping Blood Sword into the Candle Dragon’s heart, channeling Changkong Zhuoyu’s power from his chest into the blade. Born of both of them, the Dripping Blood Sword was the perfect conduit — and under their combined power, it truly replaced the Heaven-Mending Stone in the Candle Dragon’s body.

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

A thousand years ago, the Dripping Blood Sword had replaced the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure to guard the Mount Shu sword tomb. Now it replaced him. He hadn’t expected this postnatal divine artifact to have such a special ability.

“This might be fine as it is...” Li Xinglun eyed the sword. “But better to be safe.”

Blood light surged around him, his presence now more terrifying than the surrounding demonic creatures. Vast demonic power poured into the Dripping Blood Sword, the red blade trembling violently. Sensing its power, the distant Twin Swords of Purple and Azure sang ceaselessly, as immense force spread from the Candle Dragon’s heart through its whole body. The remaining seven divine artifacts released their power in turn, and under Li Xinglun’s might, the mountain-like body began to rise.

Far away, six figures felt the terrifying force even from a thousand miles off. Staring hard, they saw the Candle Dragon’s body shimmering faintly, rising into the air.

“They... actually did it!” Sage Yipin, recalling the plan from Yin Changkong, was overcome with emotion.

The thousand-mile-long skeleton sprouted translucent bone wings, beating them a few times before flying toward the distance. The six exchanged glances and took to the air in pursuit — they had to witness the end.

The Candle Dragon was enormous, and even flying it was slow compared to sword flight. Yet this pace would drain a Great Ascension cultivator dry in a quarter-hour — if Li Xinglun hadn’t become a demon god, he’d have been a dried corpse by now.

Even so, he supplemented his power mid-flight by seizing stray demons, draining them instantly.

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

No, this wasn’t right — his disciple was starting to feel like a greater calamity than the demons themselves. Those same demons who had slaughtered countless cultivators were now cowering like rabbits, struggling to get farther away.

Li Xinglun steered the Candle Dragon high above, away from populated areas. Birds, wary, avoided it, so no living creatures were harmed.

They flew for a day and a night. Even Li Xinglun, power vast as it was, had to drain more demons to sustain the effort.

From his chest, Changkong Zhuoyu peeked out — a tenth of the demon horde below was already gone. Wait... why had they been fighting demons so hard before? His disciple alone could wipe them out.

Guessing his master’s thoughts, Li Xinglun quickly explained: “Even if demons die, their demonic energy remains and will breed more. I can kill demons, but I can’t erase demonic energy — the formation is still needed.”

Changkong Zhuoyu nodded inwardly. Yes — otherwise, the ancient gods would have wiped them out themselves.

At last they reached the Soul-Breaking Gorge. The vast space could hold the Candle Dragon perfectly, as though destined for it. Li Xinglun lowered the great body into place, the six onlookers keeping their distance — without enough cultivation, they couldn’t escape if they entered.

His own power nearly spent, Li Xinglun took advantage of the surrounding demons to replenish himself — not even bothering with spiritual energy.

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

His disciple’s cultivation methods were getting... crude.

“You recover your strength. Leave the rest to me.” The jade figurine squirmed in his arms. “Quick — turn me back.”

Changkong Zhuoyu was human, not a spirit stone. Turning back from his original form to human form on his own was impossible now — he needed Li Xinglun’s incantations.

Li Xinglun set the tiny figure on the ground, memorizing his image before restoring him to human form.

Without clothes.

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

Something was definitely different between them since they’d reunited.

Li Xinglun’s gaze swept him quickly, then he stripped off his own blood-red robe and dressed his master in it — a half-divine artifact after years of refinement.

Wrapped in Li Xinglun’s aura, Changkong Zhuoyu felt even warmer, his face heating.

He glanced over — Li Xinglun, bare-chested, was casually twisting a demon into a makeshift garment.

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

He almost pitied the demons now. Was this really the source of an earth-shattering calamity? What had Xue Qianjie been doing all these centuries in the demon realm?

Li Xinglun sat cross-legged, smiling faintly. “Master, I’ll meditate for a bit. Please stand guard.”

Usually, Changkong Zhuoyu’s guarding never made him blush. But now... maybe it was seeing his true form earlier, or maybe his disciple’s face was simply too handsome.

Still, he nodded. “Once you’ve recovered, it will all be over.”

Li Xinglun smiled again, closing his eyes. Blood aura pulsed out, the nearby demons scattering — yet still being drawn in.

Changkong Zhuoyu: “...”

Did he really need guarding?

Shaking off the thought, Changkong Zhuoyu left the Candle Dragon’s body to draw the Gorge’s divine power into it.

Returning to the formation, he sat down to wait for Li Xinglun to recover. Once his disciple awoke, he would activate two formations and take him away from the Soul-Breaking Gorge. After that, the demonic energy would be gradually consumed by the remaining eight divine artifacts, the Dripping Blood Sword, and the Gorge’s power. Centuries later, when all divine power and demonic energy in the Gorge had dissipated, the human realm would enter the Age of Declining Laws.

Changkong Zhuoyu stayed by Li Xinglun’s side for a while, feeling tired. He had spent tremendous amounts of power during this time, and now that his mind relaxed, he could no longer hold on — leaning against his disciple, he fell asleep.

When he awoke, Li Xinglun had already risen, and he found himself lying in his disciple’s arms, cradled in his embrace. Changkong Zhuoyu’s face flushed again, and remembering Li Xinglun’s confession before using the Time-Space Wheel made his heart beat faster.

Seeing his master’s blush bloom again made Li Xinglun’s long-wilted flowers in his heart burst into full bloom. If not for the surrounding sea of demonic energy, he might have kissed that flush right then and there.

He really couldn’t hold back much longer — they needed to leave this place quickly and find some beautiful, secluded spot to do the things they longed to do.

“Master, let’s finish this,” Li Xinglun said, helping Changkong Zhuoyu to his feet.

“Mm.” Changkong Zhuoyu nodded lightly, glancing at the Dripping Blood Sword with a sigh. “What a pity for your artifact — the only divine artifact forged after the Primordial Wilderness. It’s linked to your aura; leaving it here in the Gorge will take a toll on you.”

“It’s fine,” Li Xinglun replied. “If I lose an artifact, I’ll forge another. If my cultivation suffers, I’ll train again. As long as you’re here, that’s all that matters.”

Changkong Zhuoyu’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly said, “Then I’ll channel the Gorge’s divine power into the Dripping Blood Sword.”

He didn’t dare meet Li Xinglun’s eyes again as he worked the incantations, drawing divine power from the Soul-Breaking Gorge into the Dripping Blood Sword. With his knowledge of the formation, he led Li Xinglun out of the Gorge’s barrier. Hovering in the air, they watched divine power fill the gap left by the Heaven-Mending Stone. Demons tried desperately to escape through it, but the Dripping Blood Sword blocked their way.

Once the barrier closed, the Gorge would vanish from the world until the demonic energy was gone. Li Xinglun watched the narrowing gap with a complicated heart.

He had met Changkong Zhuoyu in the Soul-Breaking Gorge, parted from him there, and now pledged himself to him there. This place, feared as a cursed ground, was where they had sealed their bond — and it was about to disappear.

On impulse, he removed the now-dim Time-Space Wheel from his thumb and tossed it into the closing gap.

Changkong Zhuoyu looked at him, puzzled.

“The Time-Space Wheel was never meant to exist in the world. After this calamity, the Age of Declining Laws will come, and all divine artifacts should retire. If someone fated finds it someday, perhaps they’ll travel through time as well.”

Little did he know that this gesture would give rise to countless legends of time travel in millennia to come.

The barrier sealed completely. The Gorge vanished. Changkong Zhuoyu exhaled in relief, leaning against Li Xinglun’s shoulder. “It’s over…”

Not truly over — rebuilding the cultivation world after the calamity was the real beginning. The war had been devastating. Restoring its former glory would be difficult, especially with much of the spiritual energy depleted, making ascension harder than ever.

“Yes, it’s over.” Li Xinglun’s arm slid around his master’s waist. “You’re tired. Let’s find a valley rich in spiritual energy and live quietly for a while.”

“This—”

Before Changkong Zhuoyu could answer, a voice called from afar: “Senior Changkong! Martial Brother!”

Li Xinglun: “…”

Only Wanqi Xian called him that. A Soul Transformation cultivator, his escape light was swift. A moment later, he stood before them.

“Senior Changkong!” Wanqi Xian cried, tears welling. “I saw the Celestial Star Formation fall and went to investigate. Kunlun Mountain is in ruins — so many dead and wounded, even Master is in seclusion after severe injury. I saved those I could with divine pills from the Jade Pool, but I didn’t know if you had survived. I thought you might be here — thank Heaven you’re safe!”

Li Xinglun: “…”

Before he could get rid of him, Sage Yipin, Xuan Minglie, and the others arrived. Sage Yipin saluted deeply. “To know you live is the best news in this calamity.”

Wanqi Xian added eagerly, “I’ve given the divine pills to disciples from every sect, so they can save any who still breathe. The Mount Shu disciples have returned — they’ll be overjoyed to know you live.”

“Excellent!” Sage Yipin brightened. “Changkong Zhuoyu, after this, you’ll be a leader among us. With the righteous sects devastated, we need a figurehead — and who better than the Star Lord of Tribulations, who sealed the demons and turned the tide?”

Li Xinglun: “…”

“Venerable Lord,” Xuan Minglie said, giving Li Xinglun a complicated glance before turning back to Changkong Zhuoyu, “to see you alive is enough. The Heaven-Shaking Peak has few survivors — we need you to lead us.”

Li Xinglun: “…”

Wanqi Xian added, “Some from your sect were with me. I didn’t give them the pills — your sect should decide who gets them.”

They exchanged words about rebuilding. Suggestions flew — Mount Shu needed a sword master, Kunlun should take them in, Heaven-Shaking Peak wanted to seize a new mountain.

Li Xinglun: “…”

The bickering was too much. He released a hint of divine might, silencing them instantly. “My master will decide.”

Changkong Zhuoyu adjusted Li Xinglun’s robe and said gravely, “I am the Star Lord of Tribulations, born for this calamity. It is over, and my duty fulfilled. If I remain, Heaven will punish me. Rebuilding is your task now.”

They understood but were reluctant to let him go.

“Where will you go? Kunlun is your home,” Wanqi Xian asked.

“Wherever my disciple is — that is home.” Changkong Zhuoyu smiled, taking Li Xinglun’s hand. “If fate allows, I will visit you all.”

On a cloud, the two disappeared from sight.

The others sighed. Changkong Zhuoyu was not one to be held. Who knew when they would meet again?

They returned to their sects. Changkong Zhuoyu and Li Xinglun never again appeared openly in the cultivation world — leaving only legends behind.

{They spent their entire lives having sex, by the sound of it.}

~ Chapter End ~

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