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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun:Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun vol1-3

This was written by Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat (Ròu Bāo Bù Chī Ròu) so I dont own any of it, but enjoy! Massacring his way to the top to become emperor of the cultivation world, Mo Ran’s cruel reign left him with little satisfaction. Now, upon suffering his greatest loss, he takes his own life... To his surprise, Mo Ran awakens in his own body at age sixteen, years before he ever began his bloody conquests. Now, as a novice disciple at the cultivation sect known as Sisheng Peak, Mo Ran has a second chance at life. This time, he vows that he will attain the gratification that eluded him in his last life: the overly righteous shall fall, and none will dare treat him like a dog ever again! His furious passion burns most fiercely for his shizun, Chu Wanning, the beautiful yet cold cultivation teacher who maintains a cat-like aloofness in his presence. Yet despite Mo Ran’s shameless pursuit of his own goals, he begins to question his previously held beliefs, and wonders if there could be more to his teacher–and his own feelings–than he ever realized.

JustArandomDaoist · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
120 Chs

Chapter 86: This Venerable One’s Ex-Wife Isn’t Low-Maintenance

Ye Wangxi visibly choked at these words, but he didn't grow angry

and instead took a moment to gather himself. "You've misunderstood. I'm

here on the sect leader's orders to purchase something from Xuanyuan

Pavilion, not to follow you."

Mo Ran and Chu Wanning exchanged a glance. The holy weapon.

Nangong Si swung the jar of wine dangling from his hand, his face

darkening even further. "So Father's asking you to fetch his things now, huh?

What, do I have no hands or legs that could do it for him?"

"A-Si… That's not what I meant."

"Who said you could call me that?" Nangong Si lowered his brows in

a scowl, lightning crackling in his eyes. "Ye-gongzi, don't think you can be

impudent with me because Father is blind enough to be friendly with you…

Aren't you disgusted with yourself?"

"I call you that at the sect leader's behest. If you dislike it, you can

bring it up with him." Ye Wangxi paused for a few moments. "What's the

point in taking it out on me?"

"Don't you use Father against me!" Nangong Si drew in a breath and

forced himself to regain his composure. There was a cold light in his dark

eyes, like a silvery moon in a night sky saturated with beacon smoke.

"Ye-gongzi." He seemed to drag out the name. "I'm afraid that Father

told you to call me A-Si because he has certain misconceptions about your

position in the sect. I'd advise you to know your place. You were given an

inch—don't take a mile. After all, no matter what kind of airs you put on, by

birth alone, you'll never be my equal."

A hint of something dark seemed to flash across Ye Wangxi's refined

features. He lowered his thick curtain of lashes. "The young master is right,"

he said quietly. "But I…have never once thought myself to be the young

master's equal."

The change in the form of address made Nangong Si feel a bit better.

He lifted the jar and downed some of its contents. The wine burned his

throat, but he had always been able to hold his liquor. He stared at Ye

Wangxi for a while longer, then scoffed and waved a hand. "That's what I

thought. Just look at how you are now. How could you possibly—"

He caught himself before letting slip something he shouldn't in public

and abruptly pressed his lips together, saying no more.

A long silence stretched out.

As for Ye Wangxi, even after being humiliated and insulted, his lashes

were still lowered. No one could tell if his eyes held any anger or

indignation. He gave the onlookers nothing beyond a calm, gentle face,

dauntless yet reserved.

The atmosphere was uneasy in the extreme.

Nangong Si looked around uncomfortably for a bit before his gaze

landed on the woman behind Ye Wangxi. As if to cover up his near blunder,

he cleared his throat and tipped his chin toward her. "Someone you saved?"

"Mn."

"Where's she even from? Don't go bailing out random people."

"It's all right. She's from Xuanyuan Pavilion's auction."

Nangong Si had no interest in the auction, nor had he wasted any

energy looking into it, but he was duly surprised to hear that Song Qiutong

had been bought there. His initially unconcerned gaze sharpened as he stared

at Song Qiutong's face for a while. "So is this thing slave-boned or a

Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast?"

In the cultivation world, only two types of people could be openly

bought and sold: Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts and the slave-boned.

The slave-boned were those born of the union between humans and

fae. People feared the inhuman nature of such crossbreeds, so once they were

found out, their vital energy was destroyed and a curse was cast to place a

slave mark on the bone of their shoulder blades. They were henceforth

condemned to servitude.

However, the slave-boned didn't go for much and were by no means

rare. They usually ended up being either servants of the larger sects or

playthings of the rich and powerful. Xuanyuan Pavilion wouldn't bother

auctioning some run-of-the-mill thing like that.

Sure enough, Ye Wangxi replied, "A Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast."

Newly interested, Nangong Si walked past Ye Wangxi to look at Song

Qiutong, circling around her like he was inspecting merchandise. He

frowned. "What's wrong with its leg? Is it defective or something?"

"She was injured when they captured her. We applied a salve; it's

healing," Ye Wangxi said. "That's why we can't walk too far and were

hoping to stay here tonight."

Nangong Si said nothing, only narrowing his eyes. Then he suddenly

dove to the side of Song Qiutong's neck and took a long whiff, like a feral

wolf. The lecherous move frightened her so much that she paled, frozen in

place while clutching her clothes like she was about to faint.

"Doesn't smell any different from normal people." Nangong Si rubbed

his nose and sneezed. "Some kinda perfumed powder…" Waving his hand,

he asked offhandedly, "How much?"

"Fifty million."

"Silver?"

"Gold."

Nangong Si's eyes flew wide. "Ye Wangxi, are you crazy? Do you

know how many top-grade whetstones that would be? And you fucking

bought a woman to bring back to me? What, is Rufeng Sect's money not

money to you?"

"I didn't use the sect's money." Ye Wangxi paused. "And I didn't buy

her for you."

"You—!" The anger that had only just subsided roared back to life. "I

see how it is!" Nangong Si snarled. He glared at Song Qiutong, growing

more irritated the more he looked at her. That veil straight-up pissed him off,

so he ordered her, "You, take that shitty rag off your face!"

Song Qiutong, spooked, clutched tightly at Ye Wangxi's sleeve. "Yegongzi," she said in a pitiful voice as she shrank behind him. "I…I don't

want to…"

Ye Wangxi's slender figure wasn't as tall or muscular as Nangong Si's,

but there was no fear in his eyes as he tilted his head slightly to look up at the

other youth. "Young master, she doesn't want to. Just let her be."

"You talk too much. You saved her, so she owes Rufeng Sect her life,

and that means she has to listen to me. Take it off!"

"I saved her, yes, but the moment I did, I also set her free," Ye Wangxi

said. "So please don't force her, young master."

"Who do you think you are, Ye Wangxi?!" Nangong Si punched the

door frame in anger. "What do you take me for? Why the hell would I listen

to you? If I tell her to take it off, then she'd damn well better take it off. I'll

let you guys stay if she takes the stupid thing off—otherwise, get the fuck

out!"

Ye Wangxi sighed, almost imperceptibly, before turning to Song

Qiutong. "Let's leave."

This time, Nangong Si wasn't the only one to choke. Ye Wangxi had the

holy weapon with him; there was no way Mo Ran and Chu Wanning could let

him go.

"Go stop him," Chu Wanning said immediately.

"Okey dokey." Mo Ran had been thinking the same thing anyway, but

he paused. "Shizun, where will he sleep, though?"

"He can have half of our room."

"Uh." Mo Ran looked uneasy for some reason. "That's probably not a

good idea."

Chu Wanning gaze flicked slightly upward. "Why not?"

"There are some things Shizun doesn't know. It's best if we don't stay

in the same room as him. Besides, he wouldn't agree to it anyway, since he's

actually…"

Mo Ran was just getting to the important bit when he was interrupted

by the sound of Nangong Si kicking over a table downstairs. Cups and dishes

clattered to the floor, followed by a screech as he dragged over a bench and

put his foot on it to bellow, "Who said you could leave?! What are you,

rebelling or some shit? Get back here!"

Even Nangong Si's attendants looked on in flustered silence now.

Young master…weren't you the one who told them to get out?

However, Ye Wangxi seemed more than accustomed to Nangong Si's

unreasonable temper tantrums. He pretended not to have heard anything as he

tapped Song Qiutong on the shoulder and gestured at her to ignore the crazy

person behind them.

"Ye Wangxi!"

Ye Wangxi did not respond.

"Ye Wangxi!"

Still no response.

"Ye! Wang! Xi!"

The vein at Ye Wangxi's temple twitched, and he looked back despite

himself—only to be unexpectedly met with an oncoming wine jar hurtling

directly toward him. Pupils contracting, he was about to dodge when a blur

of white flashed in front of him.

"Ah!"

A delicate voice cried out in pain, startling everyone in the room,

especially Ye Wangxi and Nangong Si.

Song Qiutong had blocked the hit for Ye Wangxi in the nick of time.

She was bleeding profusely from where the heavy jar of red clay had struck

her forehead. She touched the blood with a trembling hand as fair as jade,

and tears of pain sprang from her eyes.

"Don't touch it. Let me see."

"I'm okay. As long as Gongzi didn't get injured…"

"Can't you talk without throwing things?" Ye Wangxi said in a sullen

tone, shooting Nangong Si a blame-laden glare before turning to one of his

attendants. "Get the jinchuang medicine."25

"Gongzi, we ran out," the attendant said quietly. "Should I go buy

some?"

Nangong Si hadn't seen this coming either. He forced himself to

remain calm, but there was a hint of guilt in his eyes. "I, I have some…" he

mumbled with a stiff expression. "A-Lan, fetch my medicine bag."

Ye Wangxi, still angry, pressed his lips into a thin line and ignored

Nangong Si.

For a good while, Nangong Si stood there stiffly, holding the little

bottle of medicine, but Ye Wangxi didn't so much as glance at him the entire

time. However, Nangong Si couldn't sacrifice his pride, so he roughly

shoved the bottle at Song Qiutong instead. "Here. Use it if you want, I don't

care."

Song Qiutong was like a frightened little deer. She first looked shakily

toward Ye Wangxi and only accepted the medicine when she saw that while

he was silent, he wouldn't stop her. She then lowered her head in a bow to

the person who had injured her as she said quietly, "Thank you, Nangonggongzi."

Nangong Si hadn't expected thanks from the girl whose skull he had

nearly cracked open. He was taken aback for a second before snapping out of

it and waving a hand with an embarrassed cough. "No problem."

That night, Ye Wangxi's group ended up staying at the inn after all.

A multitude of candles flickered throughout the establishment like a

scattering of stars in the sky.

Mo Ran sat by a window with his cheek in his hand and his thoughts

wandering. It had been nearly two years since his rebirth, and numerous

events had differed quite significantly from what he had seen in his last

lifetime. It was strange, watching the same people do different things.

Song Qiutong, Ye Wangxi, Bugui… With the passing of time, these

familiar people and objects from his past life had once again reappeared in

this one. Only this time, he absolutely would not take Song Qiutong to be his

wife. As for Ye Wangxi, his name would soon resound throughout the

cultivation world, second to none but Chu Wanning.

And then there was Bugui. Agitation flooded Mo Ran's chest when he

thought about the long blade that had accompanied him through his previous

life.

"Shizun."

"Yes?"

"You've been working on that talisman for an hour already. Isn't it

done yet?"

"Almost." By the dim light of the candle, Chu Wanning carefully drew

the finishing strokes with a brush dipped in cinnabar to reveal a vivid,

elaborate illustration of a soaring dragon.

Mo Ran shuffled over to look. "What's that?"

"Rising Dragon Array."

"What does it do?"

"It can detect all spells in an area, big or small. If our mysterious

culprit intends to use the holy weapon to test for the essence of others'

spiritual roots, there's sure to be some kind of trace left on the blade. This

way, we'll know if the weapon's appearance was mere coincidence or part

of his plan."

"Wow, neat. But then why didn't Shizun use this back at Xuanyuan

Pavilion?"

"You'll understand once I awaken it."

Chu Wanning pricked his finger and brushed the blood across one of

the dragon's scales. The little dragon on the paper instantly glowed golden,

its eyes and tail moving nimbly.

"Are you a real dragon?" asked Chu Wanning.

A squeaky voice came from the paper. "Yep-yep, this venerable one is

a real dragon."

"Prove it."

"Stupid mortal! What's there to doubt?!"

"I'll know you to be a real dragon if you can jump off this page."

"What's so hard about that?! Just give this venerable one a sec! Hah!"

There was a flash of golden light, and a mighty little dragon the size of

a palm leapt out of the paper, wiggling its body and baring its fangs. It flew a

circle around Chu Wanning, quite pleased with itself and making a fuss. "Ha

ha ha, ha ha ha, I'm a dragon big and real, big and real," it boasted. "I know

lots of secrets, lots of secrets. But I'm not gonna tell you, not gonna tell you

—not, gonna, tell, you!"

Chu Wanning's eyes, clear as an icy lake, swept coldly over the little

eel before he covered it under a cupped hand and turned to Mo Ran with a

deadpan expression. "You see?"

"I see…"

"Let me go! You stupid mortal! You're messing up this venerable one's

whiskies!"

Chu Wanning lifted his hand and curtly poked the blood-colored

inverted scale at the dragon's throat. "Shut up and get to work."