This Damned Thirst for Survival

Jiang Luo’s pupils seem to be tinted gold as the golden sunlight falls on his face. Dark hair is piled up in a disorderly manner at the back of his head, and a few strands fly up from the static electricity, turning a golden hue in the sunlight.

The cold scent of winter is inhaled through the nose, the weather is always dry this time of year, lips tend to dry and crack and skin tends to peel. Jiang Luo is fine, his face glowing with spring and radiance. He licks his lips, which are a little dry, but it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t bother to get up and pour himself a glass of water, still not wanting to move at all.

The lazy, yawning aftermath of a spring dream.

But what was better this time than last time was that this time there was no need to clean up afterwards. A good time on a mental level doesn’t mean a dirty time in the flesh, Jiang Luo thought with a half-smile and a pity, wondering if the evil spirits were extraordinarily good last night this time because they were in a dream, and surprisingly didn’t give Jiang Luo the chance to laugh at him.

Jiang Luo had already decided that if the dream method of using the evil spirits worked, he would pretend to be more indifferent each day and wait until Chi You’s face would look good after seven days of turning his back on him.

Jiang Luo can’t help but bend over and laugh, his shoulders shaking with laughter at the thought of it. But as he laughs, Jiang Luo starts to get bored again.

The evil spirit’s words flashed through his mind.

“I really have some desire to sit out our lover status.”

The evil spirit thrust hard against it while thrusting five fingers as cold as death forcefully into Jiang Luo’s fingers, tasting elusively of sweat and lust, “You’re right, I like you now, Jiang Luo.”

He admitted it.

“It’s a shame.”

“From now on, every inch of your skin, every drop of your blood.”

“It all belongs to me now.”

The warm winter sun shines drowsily.

Jiang Luo looked back and couldn’t help but tsk.

Jiang Luo didn’t bother to talk to Chi You about what he had said because of the pleasure of last night.

Yours?

You dream on you.

Jiang Luo’s eyes panned to the potted plant and his mind wandered back to the fact that Chi You had fallen for him.

He furrowed his brow and rubbed his brow, suddenly a little distracted.

Whether Chi You liked him or not, Jiang Luo first had to pay back the only three kills he had left.

The time in the sun passed quickly and at ten o’clock some Disciples came to Jiang Luo, “Brother, the Taoist Master invites you to Xiaoquan Pond.”

Compared to yesterday, Jiang Luo was ready for a change of clothes today. He grabbed his things and followed Disciples in the direction of Xiaoquan Pond.

When he passed, Taoist Master Wei He and the Fates were already waiting for him by Xiaoquan Pond.

Jiang Luo greeted them, “Taoist Master, the Custodian.”

The Fatalist smiled and nodded, “You are in good spirits today.”

Jiang Luo smiled softly, “I feel so much better after soaking in the holy water.”

He stroked his beard, “The holy water is highly sought after because of this effect.

Jiang Luo looked at the clear, new water, suppressed his boredom, slowly removed his clothes and said idly, “Master Dao, when will my master arrive?”

“It’s either today or tomorrow,” Taoist Master Wei He, “your master is very concerned about you, it hasn’t even been a month yet and he wants to know how well the defilements are cleared from your body. You don’t have to worry, although you only arrived at the top of the mountain yesterday and cleared the defilements late, I promise you that in another five or six days at most you will become pure through and through, and you will be able to learn whatever you want.”

Jiang Luo smiled lightly, “The arts are all extraneous, I don’t care anymore.”

Wei He 道長 slightly choked and stammered in panic, “This this this is still something to learn ……”

Before he could finish his sentence, the predestined man turned his head sideways and spoke in a slightly heavy tone, “Lian-ol.”

Wei He Daoist closed his mouth and the fatalist said, “Go and see some of your nephews.”

Daoist Master Wei He was a little reticent to speak, but after looking at Jiang Luo and then at the Fatalist, he finally smiled uncomfortably, “The Fatalist is right, my nephew Lian Bing is also badly injured, I’ll go and check on him, you guys carry on.”

He finished and left in a hurry. Jiang Luo was intrigued by the riddle the two of them were playing, and he asked coldly, “You look young, but the elders look a bit afraid of you.”

The Old Master was respectful of him, and even Taoist Master Wei He was called by his first name. Was there a “Fatalist” in the original book?

The Fatalist lost his smile, “Do I look young?”

Jiang Luo nodded honestly, “Looks about my age.”

“I’m not getting any younger,” the host shook his head and laughed, “so get in the water and don’t get cold.”

Before going into the water, Jiang Luo felt the earrings in his pocket, but hesitated for a few seconds before deciding not to wear them on his ears and to keep them close to his trouser pocket.

The water in Xiaoquan Pond was still warm and pleasant, but today was different from yesterday. Just as Jiang Luo stood in the water, the black water around him blackened the entire pond twice as fast as yesterday.

Chi You This guy, he’s still very useful.

The fatalist looked at the water with some surprise and frowned as he dripped a drop of blood into the pool.

The water instantly tosses and turns, with Clear Water and Black Water each occupying one side, neither giving way to the other. Jiang Luo’s suspicions have been confirmed, and he is relieved to see that the black water has led him to think of Chi You.

As his mind drifts, the sensation of last night’s tingly, toe-curling sensation returns to his fingers. Jiang Luo has the feeling of a ghost kissing behind his spine, and he clenches his fists underwater as erotic pleasure surges through the hot water. But Jiang Luo raised his eyes and realised that as he was thinking about last night’s incident, the black and white water that had been separating him lost its balance and the black water began to push forward.

Jiang Luo : “……”

Jiang Luo coughed twice and quieted his mind, and the black water soon calmed down.

The predestined man said to himself, “Strange, the filth is heavier than yesterday.”

When he had finished, he looked up at Jiang Luo again. There seemed to be a strange glint in his eyes, but he did not do or say anything.

Jiang Luo pretended not to see the look in his eyes and treated the soak as a bath. An hour passes slowly, but Jiang Luo’s guard inexplicably drops and he closes his eyes to rest. In the middle of his half-asleep moment, the Fate suddenly woke him up: “Jiang Luo.”

Jiang Luo’s eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened slowly.

The fatalist had somehow gotten out of the water and was standing in front of Jiang Luo in the thick of the mist.

Jiang Luo looks at him quietly.

Dew slid down the corners of the dark-haired youth’s face from his forehead, wetting his dry lips. The Fated One seemed to have been watching him, the pupils of his eyes really looked like they were covered in a snowy white, eyes that, although they contained a smile, were inhuman and eerily creepy.

The fatalist’s white hair cascaded smoothly behind him, with two strands hanging down in front of him. His face was truly handsome, almost immortal under the heat.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

He asked in a warm voice.

Jiang Luo’s sluggish brain spun and nodded.

“Many years ago, I did a divination for the occult community,” the Fatalist said without haste, as if telling a small story unrelated to himself, “and the result of that divination informed me that the occult community would begin to go from prosperity to decay, and even a cataclysmic event of extinction.”

“The whole world of metaphysics will be destroyed at the hands of one man.”

He couldn’t help but smile, “Doesn’t that sound a bit unbelievable?”

“But this is the truth,” the predestined man’s expression became light, “countless people have made many efforts for the future of the metaphysical world. But there are some calamities that cannot be avoided even with effort.”

The Fated One suddenly reached out and gently brushed the side of Jiang Luo’s face.

As if touched by a snowflake, the long earrings in his trousers swayed gently and Jiang Luo’s mind was half-cleared.

He secretly raised his guard.

The predestined man looked at him tenderly and whispered, “In the whole world, you are the only one who can end this calamity.”

“I cannot, your master cannot, nor can anyone else,” he said with a general sigh, gently wiping away the droplets of water from Jiang Luo’s lips, “only you can, and only you can kill him.”

His words were like a compulsion, like a hypnosis, “For the sake of the metaphysical community, for the sake of your master and your friends, you must go and end the disaster, okay?”