Villainous Junior Chapter 21
Translated by Sylver (ko-fi)
Chapter 21: Autumn Rain
The night had deepened.
There were no stars or moon tonight. The sky was gloomy, quietly brewing an early autumn rain.
In the darkness, a figure silently entered Luosong Residence. Though not slow, upon closer inspection, his steps were somewhat unsteady, one leg limping as if injured.
It was Xue Lang.
He had thought he was done for today, especially when that "Meng Chen" had viciously sealed his spiritual power before throwing him off Tianji Cliff, preventing him from even saving himself with his flying sword.
In the face of death, a powerful survival instinct was triggered. He desperately reached out and clung to the cliff face, his hands, arms, and knees becoming a bloody mess. This brief pause allowed Fatty Blue to rush to his side just in time, grabbing the back of his collar and saving his life.
"Looks like all that eating wasn't for nothing," Xue Lang said hoarsely in a low voice, stroking the feathers of the little creature in his arms. Fatty Blue was now sleeping soundly. It was already a miracle that its tiny body could carry someone as big as Xue Lang. Moreover, to avoid being discovered alive by his attacker, Xue Lang had clung to the cliff face without immediately climbing up. Man and bird had persevered in mid-air for two hours before quietly crawling up from the bottom of the cliff and sneaking back to Luosong Residence under the cover of night.
Taixuan Sect's rules were strict. Even private fighting was severely punished, let alone attempted murder between fellow disciples. Tianji Cliff was steep and dangerous, rarely visited, which was why that person dared to make such a vicious move there. Now that he was back in Luosong Residence, even if the attacker discovered he wasn't dead, they likely wouldn't dare to come and try to kill him again.
Xue Lang limped, lit an oil lamp, and found two blood-clotting pills to eat. He swallowed with a pained expression - his neck was the most severely injured, his throat full of the taste of blood. If that person had used just a bit more force, his neck would probably have been broken.
After swallowing the medicine, he took out a package of hemostatic powder and lowered his head to sprinkle it on his bloodied arms in the candlelight.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Xue Lang, open up."
Xue Lang's hand trembled, spilling the entire package of hemostatic powder on the ground.
The person who tried to kill him had taken on Meng Chen's appearance, surely using a shapeshifting technique. This was a very advanced skill, difficult to detect flaws in, but it had a drawback - the transformed appearance could only be maintained for an hour. From noon until now, the time limit had long passed, so it couldn't be his attacker at the door.
Which meant the person outside was the real Meng Chen.
Xue Lang's mind buzzed. He immediately blew out the candle and hurriedly ran to the inner room, throwing himself onto the bed and covering himself with the blanket.
Meng Chen knocked twice, but no one opened the door. Even the candlelight inside had been extinguished.
It had been five days, and he was still in a mood?
Meng Chen hadn't come these past few days, partly because the sect leader had assigned him internal affairs, leaving him no free time, and also because he understood Xue Lang's temperament and wanted to give him time to come around on his own.
Who would have thought that after five days, he would still be sulking!
He knocked twice more, and receiving no response, simply pushed open the door and entered, relighting the oil lamp on the table.
Warm light filled the room, but no one was visible. Meng Chen walked straight to the inner room, and sure enough, saw a lumpy bundle on the bed.
"What are you hiding from?" He said with a smile in his eyes, finding this childish behavior somewhat endearing. He reached out to pull at the tightly wrapped blanket, "Come out."
The person inside tugged the blanket corner back, wrapping himself even more tightly, and mumbled, "If you have something to say, say it tomorrow. I'm sleeping!"
"What sleep? You clearly just had the lamp on." Meng Chen frowned slightly, sensing something was amiss. "What's wrong with your voice? Do you have a cold?"
The person in the blanket went quiet, slowly inching the bundle towards the corner of the wall, seemingly determined not to show his face.
Meng Chen stared at the blanket bundle for a while, then appeared to compromise. "Fine, sleep then. I'll come back tomorrow."
The blanket bundle shook left and right, urging him to leave quickly.
Meng Chen concealed his presence, standing quietly by the bed. When the blanket finally cautiously opened a crack, he immediately reached out and yanked the entire blanket away.
Xue Lang was startled and shivered, quickly burying his head in the pillow. But in that split second, Meng Chen had already glimpsed something. His previously smiling face immediately changed. He grabbed Xue Lang's shoulder, forcefully pulling him out.
"What happened?" Meng Chen frowned, staring at his blood-stained arms. "This is—"
His voice suddenly froze as his gaze fell on the young man's neck. There was a ring of bruises, a terrible purple color, already severely swollen. It was clear the attacker had murderous intent and showed no mercy.
"...Who did this?"
Xue Lang clumsily pulled up his collar, trying to cover the horrific wound, avoiding Meng Chen's gaze, and mumbled. "No one..."
Hearing the young man's severely hoarse voice, Meng Chen's eyelashes trembled. He pressed his lips together, his gaze moving from the bruises on the young man's neck down to his tattered, dust-covered clothes, his blood-stained arms and fingers, then to his torn pant legs and bloodied knees. He pieced together what had likely happened. "Was it Pei Yuze?"
"He called you to Tianji Cliff, then pushed you off." Meng Chen's heart sank with a chill. "Is that right?"
Xue Lang was stunned, not only because the other had guessed the situation so accurately, but also because of the bone-chilling coldness in his voice when he uttered "Pei Yuze".
...Had he heard wrong?
While he was still in a daze, Meng Chen suddenly stood up straight and turned to walk out.
"Hey!" Xue Lang was startled and instinctively reached out to grab him, hoarsely and urgently asking, "Where are you going?"
Meng Chen paused, suddenly feeling a sense of emptiness and realization.
Yes... what could he do now if he went there?
He knew better than anyone what kind of person Pei Yuze was. The more concern and protection he showed for Xue Lang, the more frenzied Pei Yuze would become, retaliating even more viciously.
If he couldn't resolve the situation completely, what was the use of going?
A strong wave of anger, hatred, and helplessness washed over him like a tide. Meng Chen's chest ached unbearably, his breathing shaky, almost unable to catch his breath for a moment. Xue Lang couldn't see his expression from behind. He cleared his throat and said casually, "It's no big deal. Eldest Senior Brother and I just had a bit of a disagreement, that's all. Don't make a fuss..."
"Stop talking." After a moment of silence, Meng Chen spoke softly, barely suppressing his tumultuous emotions. He went to the outer room to fetch the oil lamp and medicine.
He placed the lamp by the bed and sat beside Xue Lang. Ignoring the young man's attempts to dodge, he took his hand and gently sprinkled hemostatic powder on his fingertips.
Seeing he couldn't hide anymore, Xue Lang stopped struggling and sat obediently on the bed, letting the young man clean and bandage his wounds.
Although he had nearly lost his life and felt ashamed about being beaten so badly without any ability to fight back, as Xue Lang looked at the young man bathed in the warm candlelight, the gloom in his heart gradually dissipated. He suddenly felt that today wasn't so unlucky after all.
At least he was still alive and well, able to see this person, and moreover, this person was tending to his wounds.
Come to think of it, they hadn't seen each other for five days. He had been conflicted earlier, giving the other the cold shoulder. Now, perhaps he could use this opportunity to reconcile?
His throat itched, and he cleared it, just about to say something when Meng Chen spoke first.
"After your wounds heal," he said softly, looking at the young man's bandaged fingertips, "you should leave the mountain."
The words Xue Lang was about to say got stuck in his throat, causing a stabbing pain. He looked up, bewildered, as if he hadn't understood. "...What?"
"Leave the sect and go down the mountain, anywhere you like," Meng Chen said calmly, not looking at him. "Whether you choose to wander the martial world alone or join another sect to focus on cultivation. The world is vast, it's up to you."
Just don't come back here.
Meng Chen now realized that when he personally invited Xue Lang to join Tianji Peak, he had already made a terrible mistake.
He had only thought about repaying kindness, wanting to be good to Xue Lang, and because he was in darkness himself, he wanted to grasp that beam of light and warmth. So he selfishly pulled the young man into this whirlpool of mud.
It wasn't that he hadn't considered the potential dangers, but he had always subconsciously felt that with him watching over, Xue Lang should be safe.
Ridiculously, he had forgotten that he couldn't even protect himself, how could he protect someone else?
Reality had thoroughly shattered his complacency. Meng Chen finally clearly realized that leaving him and Taixuan Sect was the best choice for Xue Lang.
He should bear his own burdens, why drag an innocent person down with him?
Xue Lang stared at him intently and asked hoarsely, "What do you mean?"
Seeing him remain silent, Xue Lang suddenly flared up. He yanked his hand back violently and said through gritted teeth, "Who do you think you are? Whether I stay or go, live or die, what does it have to do with you!?"
Meng Chen seemed to be struck by a particular word, his expression changing as he tried to speak, but was drowned out by the young man's angry voice. His throat was already severely injured, and now with his temper flaring, every word sounded hoarse and bloody, almost shrill and piercing, "Don't presume to make decisions for others! I've said it before, I have nothing to do with you, you can't control me!"
"Get out!" In the candlelight, the young man's eyes were bright red. "I don't want to see you!"
——
The wind had risen, and distant thunder rumbled on the horizon.
Meng Chen slept very uneasily that night.
To be precise, since his rebirth, he had rarely had a peaceful night's sleep. Once asleep, his dreams were always filled with evil spirits, grinning as they dragged him into a quagmire, forcing him to relive his dark and unbearable past over and over.
This time, however, was somewhat different.
He dreamed of Xue Lang from his previous life.
Logically, in his previous life, he hadn't had much interaction with Xue Lang, nor many pleasant memories. But in the dream, he became an observer, seeing from a strange perspective some scenes he hadn't witnessed in his previous life.
He saw himself giving two embroidered pouches to Pei Yuze and Yin Chi. The two received them, looked inside, and joked while laughing. "How come you know how to embroider these?"
His past self was a bit embarrassed but still explained seriously. "Junior Sister Liu gave me these pouches. She said in the secular world they're called 'blessing bags'. Embroidering the wearer's name on them can bring good fortune and health. I embroidered your names. The bags contain some calming herbs. They're not very useful, but they can help with sleep."
At that time, the four fellow disciples had just finished being tested by their master. Xue Lang was also sitting on a stone bench nearby. Hearing this, he looked disdainful, as if he thought it ridiculous for a man to embroider. Meng Chen saw the young man's eye roll and hesitated for a moment, but still took out a third pouch and handed it over. "Junior brother, this is for you."
Although they didn't get along well, out of brotherhood, Meng Chen hadn't left him out.
Xue Lang glanced at him sideways, took the pouch, gave it a casual look, then tossed it far away.
This action was too much. Yin Chi angrily rushed forward to hit him. Although Meng Chen stopped Yin Chi, his face had also turned cold. He didn't say anything more to Xue Lang and turned to leave.
In his previous life, he had felt there was no need to offer his sincere feelings only to be trampled on. Later, when giving out small gifts, he never prepared anything for Xue Lang again. But in this dream, the current Meng Chen saw a side he had never understood before.
After he and the other two left, the young man immediately jumped up from the stone bench and ran to where the pouch had fallen. As luck would have it, there was a patch of iron thorns growing there, with dense thorns on the hard branches and leaves. The young man, seemingly unconcerned, used his hands to part the thorny bushes to search. It took him nearly half an hour to retrieve the fallen pouch.
The young man's hands were already covered in wounds from the thorns, but he seemed not to feel the pain. He carefully pinched a corner of the pouch, not letting the blood on his hands stain the fabric. He stared at the two characters "Xue Lang" embroidered on it for a long time, his usually gloomy brow relaxing, and smiled happily.
Watching the young man's smile from the side, Meng Chen felt a sharp, dense pain in his heart, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.
Later in the dream, he saw much more.
He saw Xue Lang's remorseful and sad expression after speaking harshly to him; he saw Xue Lang tiptoeing to his door late at night, leaving a pot of unnamed small flowers; he saw Xue Lang sitting alone in his room reading, watching through the window as he and Pei Yuze or Yin Chi passed by laughing and talking, staring without blinking for a long while, then rubbing his eyes, hiding a trace of loneliness that passed over his face.
He saw many, many things, and finally, on a rainy night, he saw the young man with a long sword, running madly along the mountain path in the pouring rain.
Meng Chen recognized this scene and couldn't help but shout. "Don't go!"
The young man couldn't hear him. His gaze was intense, like an eagle in the rainy night, charging forward recklessly, only to be violently thrown back by an invisible barrier in the next moment, tumbling down dozens of steps.
That was the barrier of the Mahayana Realm, an insurmountable chasm for ordinary cultivators.
Yet the young man seemed to feel nothing of its terrible power. He scrambled up from the steps, his black hair soaked by the heavy rain, clinging messily to his cheeks. His eyes were like angry flames burning in the darkness, so bright they could almost scorch one's eyes. He charged forward again, his sword striking fiercely at the barrier, trying to cleave a crack in it.
But it was all in vain. The barrier remained intact, its powerful force rebounding into the young man's body. He coughed up a mouthful of blood, and his sword arm made a terrible bone-cracking sound.
He remained unmoved, striking the barrier again and again with both hands on his sword, until with a "clang," the blade shattered. The young man bent over, spitting out another large mouthful of blood, his knees hitting the cold stone steps heavily.
"Xue Lang... go back!" Meng Chen's hoarse, desperate voice echoed both in and out of the dream. "I'm telling you to go back—"
Xue Lang couldn't hear, or if he did, he paid no heed. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, discarded the broken sword, and began striking the barrier with his bare hands.
—
Meng Chen opened his eyes, his vacant gaze staring into the darkness, a trail of undried tears at the corner of his eye.
"Rumble—"
A flash of white light cut through the dark night, and a moment later, the sound of rain pattering on the banana leaves outside his door could be heard.
It had started to rain.
