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The Demonic Cultivator.

"Have you heard? The Lóng Jíshān Sect were massacred."

"How horrible! Are you sure?"

"Yes, there were no survivors. Once again another Sect is brought to ruin in these difficult times."

"How could they not when they chose to face the Yumeng Yang in battle?"

"Hear, hear! Even the other Great Sects failed in curbing the Yang. What could a group of scholars do?"

"It's such a tragedy, though."

"Truly dispairing times when even the Immortals suffer like this."

The rumor was in everyone's mouth, jumping from town to town in the way only the juiciest gossip was able to. Unsurprisingly, considering just which sect the hearsay was centered on.

Lóng Jíshān Sect: The Sect where blood was second to talent. The one place where everyone was allowed to enter, from a noble to a servant's son. Older than most Great Sects their leaders were all immortals that only passed their roles to their disciples when it was time for them to ascend into Godhood.

Nine generations of immortals, a line unbroken from before the Four Realms were conquered by one Qin Shi Huang, now broken by the greed and never-ending hunger of the Yumeng Yang.

It wasn't something easy to accept.

Xiao Jiu had brushed the rumors the first time he heard them. It was just not possible. The soul-mark on his wrist was unchanged; still a vibrant red, still warm at the touch, pulsating in a faint echo of the golden core of Xiao Jiu's other half.

Thus, Ye Beiyuan was alive.

He must be.

Xiao Jiu was supposed to be the first one to enter the netherworld, to accept the next step in the reincarnation cycle, and take pleasure in knowing Ye Beiyuan would suffer for a long time after as the half left standing.

The bastard owed him that much after all the bullshit Xiao Jiu went after being abandoned.

Ye Beiyuan must be alive.

There was no other option.

Not now, not ever.

But two weeks after the start of the rumors, the mark turned grey. It flickered and died, turning as cold as ice.

Freezing Xiao Jiu's blood in his veins, his breathing turned erratic, and his carefully constructed denial burned to ashes. Panic flooded his mind and he was running East as if he was being persecuted by an army of yaos.

The entire realm was filled with soldiers wearing the royal purples of the Yang, hunting the remains of the now fell off grace Sects that once ruled the jianshu.

Being a rogue cultivator was difficult these days but Xiao Jiu had lived a long life running from the orthodox, and traveling all the way to Lóng Jíshān Mountains was not more difficult than any of his other journeys.

Decrepit and old as he was, people rarely took his presence as something worthy of taking notice. Unless, of course, they were strong enough to smell the sulfuric undertone of his yin energy.

Thankfully, the world had fewer and fewer people capable of such feats.

The time it took him to reach the Lóng Jíshān Mountains was torture. Every moment was full of burning guilt and desperation, Xiao Jiu barely ate or slept during those eleven days.

The first peak, Chàng liánhuā, is burned to ashes.

So is the second peak. And the third. The fourth. All the way to the fifth peak, Huángjīn lǐyí, is destroyed and covered in ashes. The resentful energy is so strong Xiao Jiu is choking as the yin energy tries to lure him into giving it a form. The corpses make bile rush up, they're all so young.

It had never computed, not entirely, what a Sect disappearing meant.

It meant hundreds of children and young adults being killed in cold blood. Left to rot without a proper burial. All to satisfy the twisted desire of an old fart who lived in a delusion of power.

It meant broken shards of a spiritual weapon.

Immortals do not rot. Their body is so full of energy that it simply disintegrates when they die, not even their clothes are left behind, just the sword that was so intricately bonded to their being that it may as well be their soul.

Xiao Jiu knows this sword.

He may have only seen it once, the one time fate forced him to meet with Ye Beiyuan again, a few months after the last generation of Immortals ascended and his soulmate took his position as Sect Leader.

And yet, Xiao Jiu would always recognize Dà fēng.

No matter how broken or lifeless it was.

His knees hit the ground, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"No, please. Please. He can't be dead… Er-ge cannot be gone. You cannot take him too. Not him. Anyone but him! Please, please." An ugly, rattling sob. "Heavens, please. I will do anything! Just give him back. Please, please. I cannot—"

Xiao Jiu couldn't imagine a world without Ye Beiyuan.

A world without his soulmate? Xiao Jiu could probably survive in it; he didn't want to.

Without a body, there was no way for Xiao Jiu to bring Ye Beiyuan back. He couldn't fix this. The pain melted the ice he had used to cover his heart and the scarred muscle started bleeding once again. Xiao Jiu screamed.

A horrible, inhuman sound.

Yin energy rushed to greet him, curling around him, kissing where his flesh meet the sharp scraps of metal. Hissing sweet promises of vengeance as they feed off his own hate and anger.

The female ghosts that were always with him, his fateful companions, appeared with worry written all over their beautiful faces. Long nails pull at his clothes as they try to get him up, cold fingers trying to pull his hands open and tug the remains of Dà fēng away from him.

He ignores them, fighting hard to keep what's left of his other half.

His blood drenches the ground and the resentment howls as Xiao Jiu does the one thing every demonic cultivator instinctively knows to never attempt; he allows the energy to take hold and devour his insides.

A host.

One powerful corpse even the strongest cultivators would have difficulty taking down.

A beast that would devour and destroy everything in its path. No destination, no ending goal. Just a monster full of resentment that will attack everything that moves, will fight and hunt sources of spiritual power until someone seals it or destroys it.

No revenge is worth the cost.

Not when your own soul is the price.

After all, a shattered soul can never return. It loses its place in the reincarnation cycle and all you have worked so hard to gain with it. All the power, the knowledge, the bonds. Everything that makes life bearable, gone. Permanently.

To Xiao Jiu the price is fair.

He alone would never win against the ones who did this. He's not strong enough to get revenge for Ye Beiyuan. Thus, this is the only way to get them back for what they've done.

Death doesn't scare him. And why would he want to reincarnate when his soulmate will not be in his next life?

Perhaps, the only thing that could make him hesitate is the carnage of innocents that this will cause. But deep down Xiao Jiu is a bitter, selfish man that cares only about himself and is not above causing harm to others if he can get what he wants.

He dies with an ear-to-ear grin on his skeletal face.

Two seconds after his heart stops, something dark is born in the heart of Lóng Jíshān, something that will shake the jianshu to its core.

A pillar of yin energy rises to the heavens, clouds cover the sun, and the earth sinks into darkness.

The repercussions of Yummeng Yang's arrogance would be felt for decades to come.

.

.

.

There was an intense shade of black as far as he could see. The place could have been enormous as it could have been one meter per side and Xiao Jiu wouldn't know. There was stone under his knees, a pleasant buzz, and a faint light that hurt Xiao Jiu's eyes.

One small blue screen floated right in front of his face.

[Calibraiting system.]

[Soulmate FIX-IT system is now in orbit.]

[Welcome user: XIAO JIU. ]

[Calibraiting base personality to match with the user.]

[Greetings, precious daughter! This system wishes nothing more than your happiness. Will you accept the «Shards of the same hearth» quest? Doing so will improve your chances to save our Main Male Lead, the handsome and kind Ye Beiyuan.]

If Xiao Jiu was in his right mind, he would've found everything about that message deeply offending. Would've screeched in outrage and threatened to kill the whatever-this-was-system for daring to call him a "precious daughter" and probably something would've been set on fire by now.

As things were, the only thing his brain could only focus on was the last part of the message.

He could save Er-ge?

Hope was easier to spark and even easier to fan into a raging inferno. Love and Madness were two sides of the same coin, and as much as Xiao Jiu would deny it, he loved with everything he had.

The was nothing he wouldn't do for Ye Beiyuan.

Pressing the small square with the word [Yes] was the easiest decision of his life.

[This system thanks you for your quick answer, precious daughter!]

[We can now start.]

[Protocol: Let's Time-Travel. Activated]

[Calibraiting.]

[This system suggests you get ready, my precious Xiao Jiu, we're about to return to the first pivotal moment in your quest for your soulmate(s) happiness!]

Who but Xiao Jiu can reclaim the title of the biggest tsundere in history?

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