He and It Chapter 182: Inquire Here (10)

Chapter 182: Inquire Here (10)

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: GaeaTiamat

 

Descendant of the Eastern Swamp Kingdom, young in age, with an already impressive cultivation base, possessing both grace and talent, and renowned far and wide. Anyone who had seen him had nothing but praise, with not a single negative word uttered. Having obtained such a seemingly flawless marriage partner, Yan Huan could only smirk coldly.

Was it a charity act, a strategic alliance at a hefty cost, or perhaps a perfectly contrasting display, showcasing the compassion of immortals to the world?

…It didn’t matter anymore. Since he had nothing else to do, if the true immortals wanted to play games, he could certainly indulge.

Was there truly anything pure and flawless? Yan Huan understood that best. The more radiant and pristine something appeared on the surface, the more filthy and corrupt it was behind the scenes. The “Great Dao” propagated by sages was nothing but a means of suppressing one’s nature. There was no pure land in any world. As he stood in the clouds, he was able to smell the evils and filth of the entire Mortal Realm.

This so-called “flawless marriage partner” was undoubtedly of the same ilk.

As he looked into the mirror, Yan Huan raised his eyebrows and suddenly laughed.

No, upon further thought, if that little prince were truly ignorant of the ways of the world, pure and immaculate, then the fun would be even greater. Surely, playing with him would be a different kind of amusement.

He stood up. His jet-black robes resembled a heavy, sealed coffin that tightly enveloped his body, and concealed his swaying tentacles, venomous malice, and nine wandering eyes in a darkness where no light could penetrate.

Let’s go meet him, Yan Huan decided, as he slowly walked outside.

As he ascended the pitch-black steps, he looked around. In the dark chamber, Yan Huan saw his future partner for the first time.

—Fuguang, the light of the supporting sun. He lived up to his name, like a sun shining into his eyes, his beauty even scorched his sight.

As he gazed at Liu Fuguang, the latter stared back at him dumbfoundedly. When Yan Huan regained his senses, he suddenly thought of the facade he used, and his momentary astonishment turned into disdain.

He was born without eyes but with a terrifying visage, and used disguises to present himself outwardly, so he deeply resented those who showed goodwill based solely on appearance. At that moment, with Liu Fuguang’s arrival, he inadvertently touched upon his taboo. In his eyes, that so-called perfect saint was no different from a mundane and boring person.

When he looked at the young man in front of him, Yan Huan’s nine eyes rotated, and revealed his many dark and sinister intentions.

“How should I address you? Calling you Yan Huan directly, would that be too impolite?” Liu Fuguang also looked back at him, lips slightly curled to display a dazzlingly beautiful smile.

Yan Huan, in human form, parted his lips, about to reply—

Time and space suddenly froze, like being encapsulated in amber, the world quiet without even a breeze.

—At the entrance of the chamber, heavy noises gradually emanated, as if some colossal creature was impatiently trying to squeeze into the inner hall, trying to force its way into a door frame large enough to accommodate dozens of people at once but unable to allow a single head to pass.

“F-Fuguang…” It uttered a chaotic, gurgling murmur, the horrific sound akin to a massive, slippery sound sliding off a dragon’s tongue, as it writhed and flowed onto the ground. “Fuguang, Fuguang…”

He murmured like that, as he wandered back and forth outside the Dragon Palace. The door of the dream palace was like an indestructible barrier that kept him firmly outside. Sometimes, he would bend down and peer inside with his nine clustered eyes, sometimes he would clumsily extend his formless dragon claws, and futilely try to pry open the door.

“You’re smiling…I remember you…smiling, laughing…” He greedily muttered, his nine eyes frozen in place, as he stared fixedly at Liu Fuguang’s smile. Everything seemed to pause, time halted, and the natural course of joy and sorrow in the dream stopped as well.

Yan Huan—more accurately, the Dragon God Yan Huan, coiled his long body, and held the Dragon Palace in his dream as if it were a precious pearl in his palm. Compared to his current state, the majestic Dragon Palace was no different than a tiny bead.

He was a flood of wicked flesh and blood, unrestrained and vast, his divine form and demeanor beyond description. Around his nine enormous eyeballs, countless dark tentacles roamed and overflowed, like billions of dancing nerve veins, forming the muscles, scales, and claws of the vast Dragon God, with only a gaping hollow where his heart should be.

Every inch of space he passed through emitted waves of scorching heat like magma, while the ground burst with stacks of tangled and elongated remnants. The writhing spinal cords, chaotic organs, madly entwined and merged into each other without distinction, emitted steam and melted into a sea of flesh-colored pulp, as they rolled and supported the Dragon God’s body.

Deformity was evil, distortion was evil, uncontrolled growth was evil. He found himself in the space of dreams, and in an instant, turned it into a nightmarish inferno of extreme evil.

“Fuguang, Fuguang…” Because of the prolonged inability to enter, he choked, as he urgently calling out that life-saving name, “Let me in. I want…want to touch. Let me get closer…Fuguang, you…”

As if there were ten thousand mouths speaking simultaneously, the indistinct words poured out from the Dragon God’s mouth, making it difficult to catch and discern. He pleaded clingingly for a long time, until his numb and chaotic mind seemed to come up with a solution.

A crack appeared in the nine eyes that blocked the doorway, from which a thinner tentacle emerged. It promptly broke, fell to the ground, and turned into a dark humanoid figure. This finally alleviated the Dragon God’s desperate longing.

Time began to flow again.

What Yan Huan in the dream answered didn’t matter anymore. As a part of the Dragon God, the black humanoid instantly traversed all obstacles and came to Liu Fuguang’s side.

This was the dream of the Dragon God, where as many times as he dreamed of past events, there were as many dream worlds like this. The humanoid dared not get too close, yet couldn’t bear to stay too far away, the way a freezing person would cautiously open their arms to embrace a warm fire.

In any case, the complexity of married life far exceeded Yan Huan’s expectations. He never imagined that another being would appear in his life, sharing time and space with him, a partner so different and utterly troublesome.

He couldn’t scold Liu Fuguang, because he couldn’t find a reason, nor could he bring himself to do it. He also couldn’t use carnal means to have fun with him, because whenever he approached or was touched by him, his body would burn painfully and uncomfortably.

Was it a magical treasure or something the immortals did? Yan Huan deeply suspected them, but couldn’t find any evidence. After pondering and investigating for a long time, he couldn’t unravel that unsolved mystery, so he could only attribute it to Liu Fuguang’s unique constitution, as a bit of an oddity.

…But, oddities were still quite cute.

After spending half a year together, Yan Huan had long figured out that, on the surface, Liu Fuguang was a well-educated royal descendant, courteous, gentle, and refined. While in private, he was extremely casual and lazy, not only enjoying reading various miscellaneous books recording rural anecdotes in large quantities but also preferring to curl up in bed and secretly peek at them.

Several times, Yan Huan saw a bulging, joyous-smelling quilt on the bed. Upon closer inspection, he found that this lump of quilt would occasionally wriggle with excitement…The first time he encountered it, he thought Liu Fuguang was practicing some secret evil technique inside, but when he lifted it, there was nothing but a solitary person, a dimly lit lamp, and a few books.

“…What are you doing?” 

Facing Liu Fuguang’s startled “Ah,” the hurried and skilled action of stuffing the book under the pillow, and that nervously smiling face, Yan Huan really didn’t know what expression to make…I thought you were practicing some sinister bloodsucking technique, or planning some cunning and vicious scheme, or even cheating behind my back. But what? Just covering yourself with a quilt and sneakily reading some childish books, is it necessary to put on such a guilty look!

“Hehe.” Liu Fuguang raised his head, laughing twice in embarrassment. “You’re here…”

Yan Huan was speechless. He deeply understood the complexity and depth of human nature often gave rise to bizarre cases that left him speechless, but the feeling of speechlessness and choking sensation now was different from before. His lips twitched, and he had no idea of what to say.

“…Just reading some rubbish.” After a long hesitation, Yan Huan said disdainfully, “Why act so guilty?”

Liu Fuguang immediately widened his eyes. “Retract that.”

“Retract what?”

“Retract the evaluation of ‘rubbish’!”

Yan Huan smiled coldly, “I won’t. What can you do to me…”

“Can you do to me…” halfway through, he saw Liu Fuguang reach out his sinful hands. Yan Huan grabbed his wrist like an eagle catching a chicken. However the other swiftly reached in, and the mighty Dragon God was suddenly scorched and almost screamed in pain.

“Okay, okay, I retract it, retract it!” he shouted loudly. “Not rubbish, fine! It’s a sacred scripture! It’s the teachings of the ancestors!”

Only then did Liu Fuguang satisfactorily withdraw his hand, and pat him reassuringly around his waist through the robes.

“It’s my habit. I’ve had it since I was young,” the young man, somewhat embarrassed, explained. “When I was young, my family hired many proper teachers for me, who managed me very strictly, so I could only sneakily read other books in bed at night…And I still haven’t changed.”

Yan Huan lifted his robe, and sat on the edge of the bed, while four of his eyes shifted away, as they somewhat unpleasantly glanced at the cover of the book.

“Miscellaneous Talks of Guangling” —written by some ignorant humans, yet he treated it like a treasure, and hid there to sneakily read it.

He buried that hobby quite deeply. If he had known earlier, when he attempted to corrupt his Dao-heart with wealth, he shouldn’t have been meddlesome. Just sent people to bring a hall full of miscellaneous books and kept him reading until he died.

…Forget it, Yan Huan sneered disdainfully in his heart. Trying to corrupt someone who was so stubbornly resistant to external influences was useless.

“If you want to read, then read properly. I’m not your parent or teacher, why should I bother about such trivial matters?” he said. “Sneaking into the quilt like this, what kind of appearance is that?”

Liu Fuguang hummed and lay back on the bed, like a lazy, shapeless mass, without any semblance of elegance or demeanor.

“It’s more fun to read while hiding, don’t you know?”

When he finished speaking, Liu Fuguang relit the small lamp and then rolled up in the bedding again, accompanied by the rustling sounds of flipping through the book.

How could Yan Huan let him off so easily? Therefore, he specifically extended a finger and suddenly poked the quilt bundle from the outside. Poked it until the quilt twisted and turned. Finally, unable to bear the disturbance, Liu Fuguang pounced out, and hung onto the dragon’s body, then vigorously rubbed his cheeks and neck, which caused both of them to shout and made Yan Huan suffer a bit.

Time froze at that moment.

The dark human-shaped figure that was acting as the eyes and ears of the Dragon God, fixedly stared at the smiling Liu Fuguang, while cracks slowly appeared on its face revealed a bewildered and joyful smile.

It extended its erratic hands, wanting to lightly and slightly poke the youth’s cheek, but hesitated and stopped just a hair’s breadth away. Its smile gradually turned into a sad crying face, as it retracted its fingers, like a four-legged beast, and chose to rub against Liu Fuguang’s clothes, then changed into various unstable shapes by his legs, and swayed around the young man’s body.

“Fuguang…” It murmured indistinctly, its lips cracked open, grotesque and horrifying, as it delicately held onto the edge of the youth’s clothes, feeling extremely content, “Fuguang…”

It continued to cling affectionately like that, while the original Dragon God outside the palace emitted thunderous sounds of joy.

After an unknown amount of time, the dark human-shaped figure reluctantly retreated step by step, and the flow of time in the dream realm resumed.

Liu Fuguang yawned.

For cultivators who hadn’t transcended the three realms but had already broken through the Five Elements, it was rare to feel tired. To exhaust oneself like this was quite unusual.

Yan Huan, dusty and weary, had just rushed back from outside the palace and found Liu Fuguang, who was barefoot on the ground, lazily with disheveled hair, wearing his own robes. Since the robe was too big and heavy, it was now crumpled and dragged on the ground, while Liu Fuguang sniffled, and looked drowsy and sleepy, as he gazed at a jade slip.

He must have encountered some problem, otherwise, he wouldn’t be pouting unhappily like this.

Yan Huan found that he suddenly couldn’t control his expression anymore. He helplessly turned into a fool who couldn’t stop smiling. As he stood in place, he grinned and grimaced for a long time, but couldn’t make the smile on his face less nauseating. Finally, he had to give up on that idea and walked towards his partner.

“Why are you wearing my clothes without permission?” he asked with mock fierce seriousness. Unfortunately, his upturned mouth betrayed him.

Liu Fuguang mumbled, “I can’t figure it out…”

“What?” Yan Huan leaned closer to take a look, and was suddenly speechless, “The ‘Taiqing Daozang’…? This is something you should read during the fusion stage. You haven’t even broken through to the nascent soul stage, how can you read this?”

“So, I…” Liu Fuguang shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “…So I put on your robe. I thought, uh…the immortal path’s silicon stone, the principle of disease…”

“…Isn’t it ‘the immortal path values practicality, while the principle is equally important’?”

He’s so adorable yet clumsy, babbling and speaking unclearly. Yan Huan’s heart seemed to melt instantly, filled with fluff, sunshine, little flowers…or some other ridiculously nauseating things. He coughed. He showed some rare kindness as he swiped the jade slip, and exchanged it for a book he often referred to as “rubbish,” which he stuffed into Liu Fuguang’s sticky fingers.

“Alright, take this. You need to rest, little troublemaker. If you keep pushing yourself, you’ll definitely have a qi deviation.”

He lifted Liu Fuguang onto the bed, pushed aside the prison-like robe, and wrapped him in the soft, comfortable silk bedding. “Sleep now. Next time you mess around with my clothes, be careful, or I won’t spare the rod.”

A light, airy threat, which melted into Liu Fuguang’s light, airy breath, as he stared at his soft lips, and his already sleeping face, peaceful as a baby. Yan Huan, unusually, drifted off into a reverie.

…truly a little troublemaker.

The surroundings quietened once again.

A dark figure lay by the bedside, almost intoxicated, next to Liu Fuguang’s fingertips.

It giggled madly, a fragment of a crazed soul, a mentally impaired delusion. It spoke of “adoration,” as the mouth of the Dragon God poured out countless terms of endearment, it trembled as it kissed Liu Fuguang’s fingertips in the dream, and the excitement caused it to burst and reform several times.

This was the dream of the Dragon God. A vast kingdom He had constructed over thousands of years where He had to hide because, in the sixth millennium after Liu Fuguang’s death, the decay of the Dragon God’s heart had spread irreversibly.

He devoured that purest Dao-heart to regain his freedom, to break free from the shackles of destiny, to grasp all power and authority in His hands. However, Yan Huan had to pay the necessary price for the madness, shortsightedness, and cruelty of that time—freedom only briefly arrived, wiping out the results of purity, as he essentially erased his own half.

The perfection in the illusion existed only in the illusion. In fact, from the moment his Dao companion fell off the Cliff of Bell Mountain, His own Dao also was on the verge of shattering, irreparable as before.

With that deficiency, the Dragon God’s agony had lasted for thousands of years, and it would continue, driving Him almost to madness. Just swallowing a Dao-heart, what good did it do? The dream constructed by memory never ceased. That Dragon God could briefly forget the excruciating pain was worse than lingering, he immersed Himself in the dream, retraced it for the thousandth, the ten thousandth, endless times.

He had seen Liu Fuguang’s smile, his anger, his joy, his contemplation, his confusion, and heard him say “I like you,” “I love you” time and time again. Each repetition satisfied him terribly, as if it could erase the huge void in his heart. Six thousand years were so long that Yan Huan could hardly remember what happened when he was born; he was always indulging deeper and deeper in the dream.

…of course, at the end of each reminiscence, the scenes from the Cliff of Bell Mountain would replay just as vividly as if they had happened yesterday.

From initial indifference to later forced calmness, from regret to fear, and finally to intense trembling and tortured howls…He always chased after Liu Fuguang’s falling body, dove into the bottom of the dream’s Bell Mountain abyss, then frantically searched, disregarding that it was just a dream from a memory.

Unfortunately, even if the Dragon God finally lifted the layered mist of the mountain cliff, and searched the deepest darkness, all he would see were his internal demons.

Sometimes, he saw Liu Fuguang standing there, covered in blood, eyes full of hatred, shouting vows of breaking mirrors and cutting ties; sometimes, he suffered punishments of ruptured dantian and gouged-out Dao-heart, and turned back to see Liu Fuguang looking at him indifferently; sometimes, he only saw a bloody, incomplete corpse, facial features blurred, with only the clothing to indicate Liu Fuguang’s identity.

Most of the time, Yan Huan could only see Liu Fuguang lying alone on the ground, his clothes thin, clutching his waist and abdomen in pain and effort, his body incredibly emaciated, curled up like a tiny baby.

“I’m in pain, Yan Huan. Yan Huan…” he wheezed, calling out softly, thin and frail. Yan Huan cried uncontrollably, feeling like he would tear his own heart out. “It hurts…I hurt…”

“I’ll save you! I’ll save you, I’ll save you…” The Dragon God swooped down, briefly reverted to human form, and trembled as he lifted Liu Fuguang’s body. “You’ll be okay. I’m coming to save you…”

Liu Fuguang sobbed, his cheeks sunken, the brightness gone from his once radiant eyes. He cried out, “Why did you harm me? Why don’t you believe me? All I’ve ever seen is your true self…How could you not believe me…? It hurts, it really hurts…”

“I believe you! I believe you!” Yan Huan was choking on his anguish, his vision darkening. He couldn’t even cry, only hoarsely repeated, “Don’t move, Fuguang…I believe you. I’m coming to save you…”

He poured his divine power into Liu Fuguang, as he desperately tried to heal his wounds, to make the pain go away, to make his cheeks plump and his skin full again, to return him to his former healthy appearance. However, all efforts were in vain. No matter how much power he infused into him, even if he opened his own heart to fill Liu Fuguang’s void with flesh and blood, it was all futile—the divine blood essence leaked out from his opened dantian.

In the end, Yan Huan could only watch helplessly as his Dao companion withered and faded away in his arms, then turned into drifting ashes. He, with all his power, with his divine status, couldn’t think of any way to save him.

The Dragon God became completely numb. He maintained his human form, as he stared blankly at his hands, while tears streamed from his nine eyes. He felt something inside him crumble into pieces inch by inch.

“Fuguang?” he called out in confusion, his voice barely a whisper. “Fuguang, where are you? I…I can’t find you. Where did you go?” He slowly rose from the mist, stumbled around, searched everywhere in despair. “Fuguang, don’t go far. It’s dangerous here. Don’t ignore me…Stop it, Fuguang. Fuguang?”

He shouted frantically, lost in his own dream. Suddenly, Yan Huan felt a huge suction force that pulled his soul without mercy, and dragged him down.

Time reversed, the sun and moon flowed, and Yan Huan seemed to return to the night of the past—heavily wounded, returning home from the ancient god’s battlefield, filled with so much hatred with nowhere to vent. He didn’t understand love back then, didn’t understand the most precious thing a heart could offer. That night, Liu Fuguang sat beside him, holding him tightly to comfort him.

“…I hate you too, do you know?” Yan Huan heard his own voice saying. “Among everyone, I hate you the most…I hate you, I hate you!”

—No, that was wrong! Those were just foolish words of panic, because the most intense emotion I’ve experienced in my life besides hatred is something hotter, more deadly, which I mistakenly took for hatred when I felt it in you…I don’t hate you! I don’t hate you!

“I know,” he heard Liu Fuguang’s voice, lighter than a feather, that landed in his heart, heavier than the largest mountains, “It’s okay…I don’t hate you.”

In an instant, Yan Huan froze.

In the deepest part of Tang Valley, the World Dragon suddenly opened its nine huge eyes, swiftly sat up, and emitted a tearing scream. A mournful wail that triggered a storm that shook all the worlds!

“Fuguang!” The Dragon God writhed in agony. “Why did you—”

Every word that came out of his mouth was incomprehensible madness and confusion, as he questioned the heavens, but no one could answer anymore.