Artifact Chapter 68: Revealing Feelings

Chapter 68: Revealing Feelings

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai 

 

Yechuan let out a pitiful whimper as his massive body shrank down into a small size, transforming into a palm-sized beast. His large, dark eyes rolled wildly, and his tiny pink tongue stuck out to lick at his wound, shaking from the pain.

Lu Ming sighed softly and gathered his spiritual energy in his palm before extending it towards the wound. A faint purple light gently washed over Yechuan, and after a moment, the blood stopped flowing, and the cut began to heal. However, the beast was still weak from the earlier fatal blow and could only lay on the ground, motionless.

Lu Ming gently picked Yechuan up and placed him on the stone table. He reached into his spatial pouch and pulled out a small bottle, speaking in a simple tone, “Venom.”

Yechuan grumbled unhappily, opened his mouth, and swallowed before producing a clear liquid that dripped into the bottle. Not long after, the bottle was full.

Lu Ming looked at the transparent liquid on the table with disdain. He placed Yechuan onto a nearby stone stool and tossed several purple herbs toward him. Then, he pushed the small bottle far away, his face showing signs of disgust.

Yechuan was furious, scratching the stone stool underneath him with his paws. His venom was priceless, especially at such high purity, and one could hardly find any of its kind on the entire continent. Yet, this human dared to treat it with such disdain. It was a humiliation beyond measure.

Lu Ming ignored the resentful gaze and, after checking the materials on the table, began the process of crafting. The magic artifact he was making was called “Chi Lian,” a venomous artifact famous across the continent. The venom was extracted from Yechuan’s own body and infused into the artifact during the refining process. However, controlling the heat and proportions of the materials was crucial—too much or too little could ruin the entire artifact.

Lu Ming focused intently, despite having read about the process and seen the crafting methods before, he had never attempted to make it himself. He worked for nearly two hours before completing the artifact. He looked over at Yechuan, who was now dozing off, his little head nodding in a way that seemed almost cute.

After working for four hours straight, Lu Ming was feeling a bit fatigued. He checked the time; only two hours had passed, and there were still six hours to go. He wasn’t the type to enjoy idle time, and with nothing else to do, he pulled out a soft couch from his spatial pouch and lay down, sighing in comfort.

When people get idle, they often start thinking aimlessly. Lu Ming’s mind wandered, and he suddenly thought of Sang Wusheng next door. He wondered if he had finished what he was working on or if his injuries had healed.

Lu Ming, in a haze, drifted off to sleep. Meanwhile, Yechuan’s eyes flickered, and suddenly a murderous intent arose. He was about to transform and pounce to kill the human who had hurt him when the space around him twisted. Before he could change form, a massive force sent him crashing into the corner.

The blow was more powerful than the first, and Yechuan spat out several mouthfuls of blood, collapsing on the ground, crying weakly. The impact was clearly severe.

“Seeking death!” A cold voice rang out.

Yechuan trembled involuntarily. The familiar aura made it want to flee, but it couldn’t move. The scent was unmistakably that of a Demon King. But given the current situation, Yechuan dared not act rashly and could only lie motionless, pretending to be dead.

Lu Ming, disturbed by the noise, slowly opened his eyes. When he saw what was happening, he almost leaped out of his seat.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and asked in a steady voice, “What are you doing here?”

Sang Wusheng immediately withdrew the demonic energy and wiped his face, revealing his intentionally concealed beautiful face. He quickly changed to a look of grievance, saying, “Brother, I sensed a murderous intent next door, but your aura was nearly nonexistent, which made me uneasy. I came over to check.”

Lu Ming glanced at the animal on the ground and replied flatly, “How could such a foolish creature hurt me? I set up a binding curse around the area; anyone who dares to approach will be crushed to pieces.”

Yechuan nearly fainted at these words. So, it should be thankful that the person with the Demon King’s aura had beaten it half to death, saving it in the process. It should have realized by now that this man was no saint.

Sang Wusheng understood that the “intruder” Lu Ming referred to probably meant him, and a mix of amusement and frustration stirred in his heart. Without giving Lu Ming a chance to react, a burst of demonic energy shot out from his fingertips, flying directly toward Lu Ming.

Lu Ming’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his hand to block the demonic energy, sneering, “You dare attack me in front of me? Who do you think you are?”

Sang Wusheng’s expression changed. His body suddenly felt weak, as if bound, and he found himself unable to move. His attempts to raise his hand lacked strength. He gritted his teeth and demanded, “What do you mean by this?”

Sang Wusheng lightly tapped a spell, effortlessly tearing apart Lu Ming’s protective barrier. He rushed towards Lu Ming, gently touching his cheek. His fingers caressed Lu Ming’s face with a warmth that almost made him lose himself. His expression was a mix of longing and sorrow as he whispered, “Brother, I miss you. Why won’t you acknowledge me?”

Lu Ming was furious and helpless. Sang Wusheng had perfected the art of using these underhanded tactics to force him into submission. The helplessness of the moment made him feel a deep panic, fearing the monster would do something terrifying to him. He tried to suppress his anger and spoke coldly, “What disgusting thing are you trying to force me into this time?”

Sang Wusheng froze, his eyes filled with both anger and sadness. He suppressed his emotions and softly pleaded, “Brother, can you forgive me? Even if everything was my fault in the past, wouldn’t it be good if we could go back to how things were? You promised to take care of me forever. Why won’t you even care about me now?”

Lu Ming clenched his fists and shouted, “You first tried to harm Fu Shu, lied to me for over ten years, and then did that horrible thing to me. How can I forgive you? My brother has always only been Jing Mo, and it will never be Sang Wusheng.”

Sang Wusheng closed his eyes for a moment, then reopened them with a bitter smile. He leaned in close to Lu Ming’s ear, softly whispering, “It seems you’ve made up your mind not to forgive me. In that case, I will no longer consider myself your brother.”

Lu Ming’s heart skipped a beat, his expression unreadable as he stared at the man before him.

Sang Wusheng’s lips curled into a slight smile. He placed a soft kiss on the red mole near Lu Ming’s eye and murmured, “I’ve known for a long time that this hurdle of love is the hardest to overcome. Heaven just had to make me meet you, my brother. I’ll take you as my fate, and even if it means shattering into pieces, I will never be afraid. I no longer wish to be just your brother. I want you to be the one I walk through life with, my only one.”

Lu Ming had heard those words and, looking into Sang Wusheng’s eyes, which were filled with intense emotions that couldn’t be undone, a thousand feelings clogged his chest, and he felt as though his heart might stop beating. He knew that Sang Wusheng had a deep, karmic bond with him, but what did that matter? The chasm between them could never be bridged—how could they possibly be together for life?

Sang Wusheng had seen the shift in Lu Ming’s gaze, which seemed to show some loosening of resolve, so he pressed on, replacing his expression with one of self-mockery as he said, “I know you resent me for plotting against Fu Shu back then, but at that time, my will was weak, and I was often controlled by the inner demons. You were always my inner demon. I was completely consumed by it and couldn’t distinguish right from wrong. The thought of killing Fu Shu came to me, and I couldn’t control it anymore. If I didn’t kill her, I feared I’d fall deeper into madness. Think carefully, brother—over these years, how could Shao Ji have fought against so many powerful demon clan experts alone? If I hadn’t acted intentionally, how could Fu Shu and Shao Ji still be alive?”

Lu Ming’s heart jolted. His lips trembled as if he wanted to speak but could not. His eyes grew dim, his lashes fluttered, and he bit his lip in silence.

Sang Wusheng continued, “You should know my background. When I was young, my mother and I were all we had, living a life of hardship. This face of mine is too eye-catching, and I had to hide my true appearance. I didn’t want to hide it from you, but you once told me, back when I was Jing Mo, that you only wished to avoid Sang Wusheng in this life. How could I confess everything to you? After my mother passed away from illness, you were all I had left. You reject the identity of Sang Wusheng so fiercely, how could I dare risk losing you by revealing everything? Although my mother told me that my father wasn’t from the demon clan and that I wasn’t their descendant, I was born with a demonic constitution. I suppose she must have lied to me. Did you already know that I was of demon blood and that’s why you despised me?”

Lu Ming’s heart shook again, and his gaze wandered. It turned out that Sang Wusheng still didn’t know that he was the son of Demon King Shen Mu. Perhaps at the time, his grandfather had concealed the true identity of his son-in-law and spread rumors that he was only an accomplice of the demon clan, in order to protect Sang Wusheng from being hunted by the Cultivation World. Lu Ming fell into a long silence before speaking, “I don’t reject your true identity. I too have my own reasons that I couldn’t disclose.”

Sang Wusheng said bitterly, “You should know that some things can’t be explained. Why must you still cling to my lies? That day, when you insisted on severing ties with me, I had no choice.”

Lu Ming’s heart ached slightly. He knew that he had been heavily influenced by the original story. When he had heard Jing Mo was Sang Wusheng, his rationality had disappeared, and he only thought about severing their ties, without considering that every situation has its reasons. The bond between Sang Wusheng and him was too deep. There was no way that their current situation had nothing to do with his own actions. He had been too hasty in making that decision, without thinking it through. Now, he realized that not everything could be blamed on him—it wasn’t entirely fair to Sang Wusheng.

Sang Wusheng reached out and hugged Lu Ming. Lu Ming’s breath became erratic, realizing that his previous words had finally reached Sang Wusheng. Sang Wusheng let out a sigh of relief and, in a voice tinged with grievance, said, “It was my mistake to do that to you. I shouldn’t have pressured you like that. I knew you were sensitive about your pride, and yet I still hurt your feelings. When we were young, you always taught me to be patient and not act rashly, to avoid alarming the enemy, but I ended up betraying your teachings and acted too impulsively.”

Lu Ming immediately scowled and said, “I did teach you that, but I never said it should be applied in this way. Even if it were, it should not be used on me!”

Sang Wusheng’s eyes narrowed in amusement, and, holding Lu Ming’s waist, he teased, “So I didn’t use it on you. I just used my method to make sure you can’t live without me.”

Lu Ming fumed, “Your method is wrong. Let me go!”

Sang Wusheng acted playfully stubborn. “Nope, not letting go.”

Lu Ming gritted his teeth. “How come I didn’t know you were like this when we were younger?”

Sang Wusheng didn’t respond but buried his head in Lu Ming’s chest, breathing in deeply. The demon clan was sensitive to scents, and Lu Ming’s unique scent filled his senses, making him feel a strange satisfaction mixed with a bitter sweetness. His eyes slowly started to redden.

Sang Wusheng held Lu Ming’s hand, his voice choking as he said, “Brother, I don’t want anything else. I only want you. Don’t leave me.”

Lu Ming stayed silent for a long time. After a while, he sighed softly. The warmth from the palm of Sang Wusheng’s hand made his body tremble slightly. He dared not let his thoughts wander, fearing that if he lost control, he might sink too deeply into this affection and be unable to escape. For some reason, the scene of the two of them fighting to the death, which he had once seen in Sang Wusheng’s dream, suddenly flashed in his mind. He had watched as Sang Wusheng, expressionless, pierced He Qingci’s body with the Qing Li Shen sword. The familiar yet strange sensation almost sent a chill down his spine. He had an eerie feeling that the road ahead wouldn’t be so smooth.

 

 

 

 

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