Chapter 19: Death in the Longevity Ruins

His earlobe was taken into a warm mouth, and Can He instinctively hunched his shoulders. “Don’t…”

Qi Jiangyuan’s lips moved away from Can He’s flushed ear and trailed upward along his temple, finally landing on the small, trembling flower nestled in his hair. The blossom had only stamens, no pistils¹.

Can He jerked violently. Though the flower was part of his true form, it was a hundred times more sensitive than the rest of his body.

His voice quivered with a sob as he pressed a hand against Qi Jiangyuan’s chest. “Don’t… don’t kiss there…”

Qi Jiangyuan paused, gazing into Can He’s misty eyes. The flower atop his head gently closed its petals at the touch, then slowly unfurled again as spiritual power flowed through it.

“Why not?” Qi Jiangyuan’s voice was low and hoarse, his fingertips brushing the edge of a petal. “It clearly likes it.”

“No, it doesn’t…” Can He’s protest was feeble, his trembling body betraying him.

Qi Jiangyuan simply lowered his head again, this time placing a kiss on Can He’s tightly shut eyelids. Then he moved down along the bridge of his nose, leaving a damp kiss at the hollow of his throat.

“Do you really not want this?”

Can He tried to push him away, but his hands were limp and powerless. In the end, he could only half-heartedly resist, letting Qi Jiangyuan kiss him as he pleased.

A strange surge of spiritual power seeped into his body from where they touched, slowly coursing through his meridians and gradually filling his spiritual sea.

In that moment, Can He felt as if he had returned to a time long past.

He had been a dying seed, buried deep in the cold, damp earth.

Just as he was about to fall into eternal silence, a powerful force had pulled him back from the brink of death.

That force had nourished him, coaxing forth his first tender sprout, breaking through the soil…

“Mm…”

A soft moan escaped Can He’s lips before he could stop it. The words of refusal that had reached his tongue were ultimately swallowed back down.

Qi Jiangyuan sensed his distraction and reached out to grasp Can He’s ankle. A thin red cord was still tied around it, making his pale skin appear even more delicate.

Can He looked down and couldn’t help but ask, “When are you going to take it off?”

It had been tied on during their very first meeting—Qi Jiangyuan had done it without asking.

Qi Jiangyuan chuckled softly but didn’t answer.

The red cord could restrain Ginseng, but for a radish, it was nothing more than a useless ornament.

He simply liked the way it looked on Can He’s ankle, like a mark that declared he was his.

Can He grew annoyed at his silence and raised his other foot to lightly kick Qi Jiangyuan’s chest.

Qi Jiangyuan gave a slight tug and pulled him back beneath him, pressing their bodies together.

“You…” Can He’s words caught in his throat.

A ghost had no body heat, no heartbeat. When Qi Jiangyuan’s body pressed against his, Can He shivered from the cold.

But as spiritual power began to flow, Qi Jiangyuan’s touch became startlingly warm.

Can He could feel it—Qi Jiangyuan’s body was changing.

A bead of sweat slid from Qi Jiangyuan’s temple, tracing the sharp line of his jaw before falling onto Can He’s collarbone.

It was warm.

What Can He felt now was no longer cold, but the heat of skin against skin. Two hearts beating in sync. A strange illusion crept over him—that they had been connected long ago, only separated for far too long.

The bedding was wrinkled from his grip, Can He’s fingers digging deep into the fabric.

Qi Jiangyuan’s kisses started at his chin, and Can He could clearly feel those lips grazing his skin.

Then, Qi Jiangyuan parted his legs without room for protest, his kisses trailing downward.

Can He jolted in shock. Was he really going to use his mouth—

Qi Jiangyuan suddenly lifted his head and held him down. “Will Dual Cultivation help?”

Little Radish turned his face away, ears burning red.

It definitely would.

He could feel the spiritual power flowing between them, gathering at the points of contact and pouring into his spiritual sea.

But how could he say that out loud?

Qi Jiangyuan didn’t need an answer. He lowered his head again.

Can He couldn’t take it anymore. He turned and bit down on his own arm, forcing back the moan rising in his throat.

His eyes were hazy as he stared up at the canopy overhead, thoughts in disarray.

Why is Qi Jiangyuan like this…

…

By the time night faded, Can He was so hungry he ate two bowls of rice.

He had just finished bathing, his hair still damp and clinging to his neck. He wore Qi Jiangyuan’s night robe—it was far too big, the sleeves rolled up several times, the loose collar slipping off one shoulder to reveal part of his collarbone, still marked from the night before.

Qi Jiangyuan brought over a jar of ointment. “Let me check—did the skin break there?”

“No need.” Can He turned his face away.

There was still a lingering sting and soreness at the base of his thighs from all the friction, but letting Qi Jiangyuan personally apply medicine there…

Just imagining the scene made his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

But Qi Jiangyuan completely ignored his protests. With one swift motion, he scooped Can He back up and pressed him firmly onto the cushioned couch.

“Don’t move.”

Then, without giving him any choice, he began inspecting and applying the ointment.

Can He’s face turned scarlet, a mix of shame and frustration. The moment Qi Jiangyuan let go, he hobbled away in a fury, limping with every step.

His legs had been stuck over Qi Jiangyuan’s shoulders for so long, they were now sore and numb. Even walking felt awkward.

Still, he had to admit—this method of replenishing cultivation was terrifyingly effective.

In just one night, Can He had nearly returned to his peak state, missing only the final sliver.

But even with just that little bit left, he didn’t dare bring up Dual Cultivation with Qi Jiangyuan again.

At the very end last night, Can He had caught a glimpse of… that, and was so terrified he cried nonstop, refusing to go through with the final step no matter what.

If he actually let him go all the way, he wouldn’t be able to leave the bedchamber for days.

Little Radish was still shaken.

He should focus on finding a way to resolve Qi Jiangyuan’s cultivation bottleneck instead.

Dual Cultivation was just too scary.

Now, even though Can He usually avoided the Library Pavilion, he couldn’t get there fast enough to hide.

The Library Pavilion was silent.

Can He walked in slowly, his legs still sore, taking small steps. Xie Suoyan was organizing the shelves. When he looked back and saw him, he teased, “Little Highness, why not sleep a little longer? You actually managed to get out of bed today?”

Can He really wanted to punch him, but couldn’t. He was fuming.

“Shut up.” He shot Xie Suoyan a glare. “A few days ago, I read that making a Spirit Tablet requires Lightning-struck Wood², so I went to the Ghost Market. I came back and made a tablet for His Highness, but it didn’t work at all. Help me look—does the Ghost King require a specific design or specification?”

Hearing it was serious, Xie Suoyan quickly dropped the joking tone.

“Alright, I’ll help you search.”

Little Highness really did care about His Highness—he could barely walk but still came to “treat” him.

The two of them quietly made their way to the deepest section to search through the books. Xie Suoyan even tied his tongue in a knot to keep it from getting in the way, cradling a heavy stack of books in both arms. Can He no longer needed to conserve Spiritual Power, so he sat directly on a cushion, manipulating his root tendrils to toss anything that looked promising onto Xie Suoyan.

The books they gathered were all spread out across the table. Can He slowly used his roots to arrange a soft cushion for himself before settling down.

With so many books, finding a definitive answer was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

As he read, Can He forced himself to calm down and work through things from the beginning.

Qi Jiangyuan’s “illness” wasn’t really an illness—it was a cultivation bottleneck he couldn’t break through.

In terms of power, he could rival the already-ascended Venerable Qingpan, maybe even surpass him slightly, yet he remained stuck, unable to advance, waiting for death.

Previously, he’d fixated on the idea that he lacked “worshippers,” believing that once the incense and offerings were taken care of, everything else would fall into place.

But now that he thought about it more calmly, maybe the problem had been misdiagnosed from the start.

For wandering souls, incense offerings mainly served to ease the pain of the Heavenly Tribulation and grant a sliver of protection from the Dao of Heaven.

But Qi Jiangyuan hadn’t even gotten close to triggering a Heavenly Tribulation!

If the tribulation couldn’t descend, what was the point of incense offerings?

The two of them buried their heads in books for nearly an hour, their eyes going blurry from the strain.

Ancient texts on Ghost Cultivators ascending were already rare and vague. Those that mentioned incense offerings were mostly general, and none seemed to match Qi Jiangyuan’s case.

Little Radish couldn’t help letting out a long sigh, frustration washing over him.

He grabbed a thick tome in front of him and let his face fall into it with a soft “thud.”

“Nothing…”

A ruler slammed down onto the table.

Can He immediately sat up straight, meeting the stern gaze of the Ghost Master.

Can He: …

He truly believed now that the Ghost Master had been a strict teacher in life—he couldn’t even sneak a short rest without getting caught.

Xie Suoyan, however, suddenly had a flash of insight and respectfully asked, “Master, there’s something I don’t understand. May I ask for your guidance?”

The Ghost Master’s expression softened slightly, and he gave a grunt from his nose: “Mm?”

“It’s about Ghost Cultivators receiving incense offerings,” Xie Suoyan said carefully. “For ordinary spirits, crafting a Spirit Tablet is the most crucial step in receiving incense.”

“But if there’s a ghost who, no matter what rare material is used to make the tablet, still can’t receive even a trace of incense or willpower… why would that be?”

The Ghost Master looked at Xie Suoyan like he was an idiot. “What does that have to do with the material of the Spirit Tablet?”

“I couldn’t stand watching you two struggle with such a simple question for so long.”

Xie Suoyan froze. “Then what is it related to?”

“You really don’t know?” The Ghost Master let out a sigh. “Instead of obsessing over whether the Spirit Tablet is made of gold or carved from wood, maybe you should ask yourselves—are you missing something more fundamental?”

“Huh?” Can He was just as confused. “But according to many records, the material of the Spirit Tablet is crucial…”

“Fools!” The Ghost Master was so annoyed he pointed at them with his ruler, though it didn’t touch them. “Of course the rich and powerful want to put on a show, even in death—they want their funerals to be grand.”

“A corpse is heavy and hard to carry. Ghost Cultivators, for convenience, often burn their bones to ash and turn them into all sorts of strange little trinkets to carry around. Some female ghosts even like to make their Spirit Tablets transparent, with flowing colored sand sealed inside!”

He stopped short of saying too much. “But that most fundamental thing—do you think it’s something you can just write in a book and spread around?”

“It’s one thing if the Little Highness doesn’t understand, but Xie Suoyan, have you already forgotten? Just a few days ago, why did Shi Shouzhuo draw his sword the moment he saw that little horse fall out of your robes, trying to destroy it?”

Perhaps because the thought of Qi Jiangyuan using that thing to chisel him apart was too vivid, Can He suddenly had a flash of insight.

Once the Ghost Master walked off with his hands behind his back, Can He was the first to react. He reached toward Xie Suoyan. “Where’s your ashes?”

Xie Suoyan’s face changed. Something clicked in his mind. “They’re in my stomach.”

As he spoke, he actually cut open his own abdomen right in front of Can He, rummaging through a mess of slick intestines until he pulled out the little horse made of his own ashes.

It was still covered in mucus.

Can He recoiled instantly, not daring to reach for it. “…Why the hell did you put it in your stomach?”

“Didn’t the Little Highness say my little horse was too easy to lose? So I figured, why not just keep it inside my body? Much safer that way.”

Can He: ……….

Fighting back his nausea, he asked, “When Shi Shouzhuo recognized that it was your ashes and immediately tried to destroy it—was that because he knew, once a Ghost Cultivator loses this, they’ll instantly dissipate?”

Xie Suoyan was silent for a moment, then said, “Yes.”

“You never said anything, and neither did the Little Highness—because for Ghost Cultivators, this is a fatal weakness, isn’t it? The fewer people who know, the better. Right?”

Xie Suoyan: “…Yes.”

Can He had studied the cultivation path of Ghost Cultivators.

For a Ghost Cultivator to ascend to immortality, they must be reborn from death, transform from Yin to Yang³, survive a perilous tribulation of lightning, and reconstruct their physical body. Only then can they transcend Yin and be reborn in Yang, ascending to the immortal realm.

But if the physical body is completely gone—not even a speck of ash remains—how can it ever be rebuilt?

Can He stared at him in silence. “When the his Highness went to the Longevity Ruins, was it really just to fake an illness and lure the Yuehua Sect over? Just to make an appearance?”

Before he even finished the question, Xie Suoyan’s expression changed drastically.

His eyes widened and locked onto something behind Can He.

A chill crept up Can He’s spine.

He slowly turned around.

Qi Jiangyuan was standing in the shadows of the bookshelf. No one knew how long he’d been there. Dressed in dark robes, he blended almost completely into the darkness, silently watching Can He.

“D-Don’t…” Xie Suoyan’s voice trembled.

He wasn’t stupid. The moment Can He asked that question, he’d basically uncovered Qi Jiangyuan’s biggest secret.

Well, now they really were going to have to “lock Suoyan⁴” up.

Qi Jiangyuan didn’t even glance at him. His eyes stayed fixed on Can He.

The Library Pavilion was deathly silent. Even their breathing was audible. Can He watched as Qi Jiangyuan approached, step by soundless step.

“What did you just ask?” Qi Jiangyuan stopped in front of him, his voice low and deep.

Can He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Qi Jiangyuan reached out, his fingertips brushing across Can He’s cheek.

“You asked if I only went to the Longevity Ruins to put on a show?” Qi Jiangyuan repeated the question for him.

Can He nodded, the motion barely perceptible.

Qi Jiangyuan was silent for a moment.

“You’ve probably already guessed,” he said at last, voice calm. “Thirty thousand years ago, I died in the Longevity Ruins.”

And so, his corpse was lost there as well.

Can He’s eyes slowly widened.

Qi Jiangyuan continued, “No one collected my remains. No one buried me. When I became a Ghost Cultivator and my cultivation finally stabilized, I went back to look for it. But the world had already changed beyond recognition. I couldn’t even find a trace of my bones.”

He looked at Can He’s stunned face and quietly added, “So no—I didn’t go to the Longevity Ruins just to put on a show.”

“Can He, I’m looking for my corpse.”

Translator’s Notes