C19 Lone Wolf

"Qing Chenghuang of the Qing Luan Clan... Aren't we from different worlds?" Nangong Fan struggled to his feet, feeling as insignificant as an ant beneath the whims of a deity. Though Qing Lian'er's tender care had healed his physical wounds, the scars on his heart were not so easily mended.

With his fists clenched tightly, Nangong Fan watched the pair descend the mountain side by side, both clad in green, seemingly a match made in heaven. He could see the envious glances they attracted from onlookers.

Nangong Fan licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, his face twisted with discomfort. This was the first time he had felt so utterly powerless. Born with exceptional talent, there were few on Earth who could hold a candle to him. He had never been subjected to such disdain before. Not even the Crown Prince would dare treat him with such disregard. Accustomed to a life filled with flattery and sycophancy, even his peers from the Black Clan, who bore him no affection, would never dare to show their disdain openly. This was a crushing blow to his pride.

He despised this feeling of helplessness and resolved never to feel it again. How could someone as proud as he allow others to dictate his life?

In that moment, a seed was planted deep within his soul, waiting for the right opportunity to take root and grow into a towering tree.

As Nangong Fan rose, the boulder behind him emitted a series of crackling noises before exploding with a thunderous boom. Countless rocks burst from the dense fissures, scattering in every direction.

Without a backward glance, Nangong Fan made his way through the shower of stones and billowing dust, his thoughts heavy, his steps laden with the weight of his defeat.

Despite his attempts to rally his spirits, Nangong Fan was still green, with little life experience. Now, reeling from the blow, he trudged back to the Black Mansion, a lifeless figure under the astonished stares of passersby. In a voice only he could hear, he whispered resentfully, "Aren't we from different worlds?"

Two years prior, he had walked that same path, numb and heartbroken, from the Black Mansion to the mountain's peak. Now, fate had reversed his journey.

Two years ago, under the soft moonlight, a beautiful figure with a gentle voice and the sound of a cheerful tone soothed his sorrow and despair.

Now, he trekked back to the Black Mansion from the mountain's peak, his heart in the same heavy state. No fairy-like girl was there to ease his troubled mind. He had to endure the weight of his emotions alone, numbly returning to his little wooden cabin—his own private sanctuary. Here, he didn't have to fear his wounds being seen or his cries being heard. Like a lone wolf, he silently licked his bloody wounds in the shadows.

Who would have thought that the one who had inflicted these wounds was the same person who had comforted him and helped him find strength two years prior?

Life is full of such wondrous ironies.

...

In the small wooden house before the ancestral hall of the Black Mansion, the wooden table was unusually free of ancient scrolls. However, a wine gourd still stood proudly, its fragrance filling the air, like a person with unyielding aspirations, refusing to bow their head.

Hei Yuqing was seated at the table, idly flipping a palm-sized wooden token.

The front of the token bore a bold, authoritative character, while the back featured a barely visible dark mark.

In Hei Yuqing's hands, the token glowed with a faint black light, and strands of invisible power seeped into his brow.

Hei Yuqing's gaze sharpened suddenly, a glint in his eye as he whispered, "Has Zi'er been struck down? Always talking about not being from this world? Could he have encountered someone from the Upper World?"

Setting the token aside, Hei Yuqing looked up at the sky, his eyes brimming with both concern and a fighting spirit. "If you truly are deities residing in the so-called divine realm, then I, Hei Yuqing, am determined to bring you down to the mortal world."

"Not from the same world, you say? ...Qing Luan Family... just you wait... I, Hei Yuqing, am on my way to confront you."

...

All martial masters should be acquainted with their Spiritual Oceans, yet Nangong Fan had never mastered his. It was as though something in his subconscious was thwarting his attempts to probe within.

In that moment, as Nangong Fan watched Qing Chenghuang and Qing Luan board the boat together, the blue apparition ensnared by threads began to thrash about fiercely. Its eyes, tightly closed until now, seemed on the verge of snapping open, while a sharp aura radiated from its form, as if it were about to sever the threads that restrained it.

Xue Yaozi, his form ethereal, lounged on a conjured stool, watching the unfolding drama with a languid gaze. The threads glowed with a creamy luminescence, binding the convulsing blue figure. Shaking his tiny head, he wore an expression that suggested he was enjoying a spectacle, "Tsk tsk, to feel the outside world as if you're truly there—such a fascinating soul technique. Waking up so prematurely isn't ideal. When your dual memories clash, will you even recognize yourself? If you do, that would be a stroke of immense fortune."

With a sinister chuckle, Xue Yaozi flicked his diminutive finger, and a surge of blood-red light followed. A ring of crimson stained the white threads, encasing them like a cocoon poised for the day it would transform into a butterfly.

"This youngster carrying the Green Luan bloodline has some skill, sparing me the need to intervene. My existence is but a single soul and spirit—I can't withstand much turmoil.

An insolent Stars realm youth dares to compel me to act?

Hmm... This young lady with the Green Dragon bloodline is quite impressive. I shouldn't squander my interventions on such trifles. A Stars realm individual not yet a century old? Truly worthy of the Green Dragon lineage, truly worthy of royalty.

She would make a fine housemaid for Nangong Fan.

Not from the same world? The Green Luan Family is not to be trifled with? How intriguing. Hehehe..."

Xue Yaozi's laughter bordered on the maniacal, reminiscent of a demon awakening from a lengthy slumber, finally free to unleash his signature, chilling grin and wreak havoc upon the world. His gaze upon the violently quivering blood cocoon was a mix of scorn and fervor.

"Xue Yaozi, you old fool, have you slept so long that your brain has turned to mush? Must you always mutter to yourself?" An ancient voice emanated from the transparent threads, resonating slowly within Nangong Fan's sea of consciousness.

Xue Yaozi's smile abruptly halted, his face awash with embarrassment. In a fit of annoyed embarrassment, he bellowed, "State Preceptor, do you have some peculiar fetish for eavesdropping on conversations?"

Yet, the state preceptor he addressed offered no further response.

...

Along the banks of the Yangtze River, a new visitor approached the old man who was fishing.

The visitor was a dashing young man, his attire breezy and his bare upper body as smooth and lustrous as jade, enough to make most women in the world green with envy. A blanket, woven entirely from golden feathers, covered his long legs, shimmering in the sunlight like a second sun had touched down upon the earth.

At first glance, the young man seemed like a carefree nobleman playing at life. A gentle smile graced his face, offering a sense of warmth and ease. He held a wooden rod, joining the old man in fishing the Yangtze's waters, yet his languid demeanor made it clear that fishing was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Old Nine truly isn't from the same world as them," the handsome man murmured, his voice dripping with nonchalance as if he held the entire world in disregard. "That kid's little provocation of Old Nine did have some effect. Old Second, you're more invested in Old Nine than in your fishing. With Xue Yaozi around, what's the worst that could happen? Why not join me in conquering the world, and perhaps marry three thousand beauties? It's far more thrilling than idly fishing here."

"If you're serious about marrying three thousand beauties, the Emperor Clan would surely spare no expense to support you in building a grand empire.

"They call me lazy, but you, our leader, are even lazier than I am. And really, what effort does fishing require? The willing will bite, that's all there is to it.

"This time, Old Nine's agitation is on your Emperor Clan. You owe it to him to make amends. Otherwise, I might just have to shake things up with your Emperor Clan to see if they're as formidable as the rumors suggest.

"Hmm... 'Not from the same world,' you say? Well put, indeed," the old fisherman responded to the handsome young man in a soft tone, a hint of sarcasm in his eyes. How many could claim to be from his world? Even he had never uttered such words to anyone.

"As expected from the Imperial Advisor, truly the mentor of the Human Emperor—your words carry such conviction!" The dashing man stretched languidly, raising his right thumb in approval, though his tone seemed somewhat incongruous. His gaze sharpened as he abruptly shifted the conversation, "Those charlatans we disdain are far from simple, every single one of them."

A hint of mockery danced in the old fisherman's eyes as his baitless hook quivered subtly. Excitement flickered in his gaze as he casually tossed aside the 'big one' he'd been discussing. With a deft flick of his fishing rod, a rainbow shimmered on the corroded hook.

The rainbow shivered as if it were a sentient fish, its seven colors swirling in a frenzy, yet unable to escape the hook's grasp. The old man drew the rod closer, and the rainbow ceased its trembling, lifeless.

A tender smile graced the old man's face as his gnarled fingers passed effortlessly through the rainbow, as though it were truly empty space. Unfazed, he allowed the light to dance between his fingertips, and the motionless orb of color trembled uncontrollably, its form growing increasingly ethereal, as if it might dissolve into foam under the sun's rays at any moment.

The old man let out a soft groan, filled with contentment and relief, the lines on his face seeming to fade away.

The handsome man looked on with envy, yet he remained silent and focused, wary of disturbing the elder.

A brilliant spark flared deep within the old man's pupils, outshining the sun for a fleeting moment before quickly dimming.

Mysterious energy surged from the old man's fingertips, eliciting a gentle hum from the rainbow entity. Its insubstantial form pulsed with vibrant, seven-colored light, as if infused with a peculiar vitality.

The old man extended his other hand, affectionately stroking his right hand before gently lifting his left. In the sunlight, the rainbow transformed into a cascade of light and vanished without a trace.

The old man gently returned the hook to the water, his eyes alight with anticipation. In a hushed tone, he mused, "I don't mind having a little fun with them."