Chapter 19

Luo Binghe spoke, “To parasitize another’s dreams, frequently changing hosts will weaken and damage the primordial spirit through constant displacement. But if one can reside long-term within a fixed host, it allows for recuperation and stabilization of the spirit.”

He paused, then said, “Could it be that Senior Dream Demon is nearing his end, forced to choose me as a host to nurture?”

Having been seen through, the Dream Demon neither denied it nor grew angry. Instead, he admitted it openly. “Correct! I didn’t expect a youngster like you to be so knowledgeable, to even know this.”

Seeing Luo Binghe’s calm expression, the Dream Demon couldn’t gauge what the boy was thinking. He continued, “But don’t assume you are my only choice. The demon race has countless gifted individuals—any one of them would kneel and beg for this honor! You, on the other hand, should carefully consider whether you can afford to miss this opportunity.”

In truth, over the years, his primordial spirit had been declining. Originally residing peacefully within a demonic artifact, a century or two of quiet cultivation would have restored him to vigor. But then, Sha Hualing, unaware of its true nature, had mistakenly used the artifact as a weapon against Luo Binghe. Now, he lacked the strength to seek another host.

Yet, in this desperate situation, he had discovered that this new host’s body and divine sense concealed a faint but immense power. Overjoyed, how could he possibly let this go?

He had resolved that no matter how firmly Luo Binghe refused, he would use every means—coaxing, coercion, threats, and temptation—to persuade him to study demonic arts, molding his body and divine sense into a more suitable dwelling.

“I will give you time to think it over carefully,” the Dream Demon said. “Otherwise, trapping both your and your master’s divine senses within a dream forever is well within my power!”

Luo Binghe’s head snapped up. For an instant, the Dream Demon was shaken by the icy glint that flashed in the youth’s eyes.

All traces of Luo Binghe’s earlier calm deference vanished. His voice turned frigid. “You may negotiate terms with me now, speak of anything you wish. But if you harm my master, all discussion ends.”

The Dream Demon stared, stunned, before finally collecting himself. He was shocked that he, who had roamed the three realms for centuries, had been intimidated by the presence of a mere mortal cultivator. Even during that bitter battle where his physical form was destroyed, he had never been suppressed in terms of presence.

Of course, he would never know that this kind of aura would later be known as the (protagonist-exclusive) Tyrant’s Aura!

The cave suddenly echoed with roaring laughter.

“You truly have some spirit, boy!”

As the aged voice faded, Luo Binghe felt his limbs grow heavy. The surroundings spun into a dizzying whirl before darkness swallowed him. Moments later, he awoke in the woodshed, his back drenched in cold sweat.

At the same time, Shen Qingqiu bolted upright in bed as if rising from the dead.

Gasping for dozens of breaths, dizzy and disoriented, he finally managed to steady himself.

Disastrous. Absolutely catastrophic!

Why? In the original work, when Ning Yingying was thrown into a dream-within-a-dream by the Dream Demon, her dream was woven from warm childhood memories—picking flowers with her father, riding horseback with her mother, and the like. So why was it that when his turn came, he was first surrounded by fist-sized carnivorous bees, then forced to sprint down a narrow tomb passage with a giant fireball hot on his heels?

The most terrifying part was the finale the Dream Demon had crafted within that inner dream: his deepest fear.

In a dark, damp dungeon, he was suspended mid-air by a ring hooked around his waist, limbs numb and unfeeling. He tried to scream, but only choked, voiceless rasps escaped. Agony burned through every inch of his body.

He lost track of how long he lingered in that dream before the sound of a stone door grinding open echoed from beyond the cell. Slow, deliberate footsteps drew nearer, a shadow stretching across the floor ahead.

The hem of ink-black robes, embroidered with intricate silver patterns. The chilling pressure radiating from that figure was more suffocating than the dungeon’s oppressive darkness.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see the man’s face. But he knew exactly who it was!

The Dream Demon truly lived up to his legendary status among demons. The dream had been horrifyingly vivid. Even now, the damp, rotting stench of the air seemed to cling to his nostrils, nauseating.

Shen Qingqiu managed to sit for a moment before truly rolling off the bed and retching.

Ding-dong. Of all times, the System chose this moment to chime in with a notification: 【Congratulations on completing the “Dream Demon’s Barrier” story arc! Reward: 500 Coolness Points! Keep up the good work!】

Shen Qingqiu made a “stop” gesture, still coherent enough to bargain. “Let’s have a proper talk. When you threatened to deduct points earlier, the number wasn’t this, was it? Why not set the penalty at 500 as well? Is it really fair to penalize heavily and reward lightly? Moreover, I endured an extra dream-within-a-dream arc. Why isn’t that counted as additional B-Points? System? System! Don’t play dead—let’s draft a new contract!”

Just then, someone burst through the bamboo hut door like a gust of wind.

“Shizun!”

He knew who it was without looking. Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes in agony.

He really did not want to see that face right now!

Luo Binghe was already at his side, kneeling close, his voice fraught with anxiety. “Shizun, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”

I’m actually fine… or I would be, if you’d just give me some space…

Shen Qingqiu turned his face away, mustering all his dignity and grace to stand on his own. “This master is perfectly well.”

Luo Binghe had moved to support him, but his hand was gently yet firmly brushed aside. He froze, taken aback.

Shen Qingqiu, oblivious to his disciple’s subtle distress, straightened his robes—confirming that even in his inner garments, his image remained intact—and asked, “Did the Dream Demon give you any trouble afterward?”

Trouble? The Dream Demon would be groveling to lick your boots if he could. Shen Qingqiu was asking a question he already knew the answer to. Luo Binghe hesitated briefly before replying, “That demon senior seemed to have exhausted his spiritual power. Shortly after, this disciple was expelled from the dream. Shizun… did you encounter anything within the inner dream?”

Shen Qingqiu declared without a shred of shame, “Even if I had encountered something, would this master be unable to handle it?”

Of course, I couldn’t handle it!

The phantom memory of being a limbless torso still haunted him. With Luo Binghe this close, every hair on his body stood on end. He averted his gaze to calm his nerves. Unaware of the reason, Luo Binghe saw his master’s strange expression and evasive eyes—so unlike his usual direct gaze—and felt a surge of restless anxiety.

Fortunately, Shen Qingqiu adjusted his mindset quickly, remembering his duty as a teacher. The next moment, he reached out and grasped Luo Binghe’s wrist, his expression solemn. “A demonic invasion is no trivial matter. This master will examine you. We cannot be careless.”

With his wrist held, Luo Binghe obediently replied, “Yes.”

His heart, which had just begun to settle, immediately clenched again. What if Shen Qingqiu detected the Dream Demon, and the latter exposed the anomalies within him…

Yet, though Shen Qingqiu performed a thorough and diligent examination, he found nothing unusual. Of course, he wouldn’t—the Dream Demon’s centuries of power and formidable reputation were no illusion. But the formalities had to be observed. Finding nothing, Shen Qingqiu still instructed Luo Binghe to visit the Thousand Herb Peak and Vaulting Heaven Peak the next day for further checks, emphasizing that he must report any issues.

Luo Binghe showed no intention of leaving. He stood there, burdened by unspoken thoughts, wrestling with himself before finally asking, “Shizun, are demons… all irredeemably evil, deserving of extermination?”

Hearing this question, Shen Qingqiu did not reply immediately. From his standpoint, it was indeed difficult to answer.

Seeing Luo Binghe rooted in place, maintaining a facade of calm yet waiting with barely concealed anticipation, Shen Qingqiu finally spoke slowly. “Among humans, there are good and bad. Naturally, the same applies to demons. We often witness demons persecuting humans, but that does not mean there are no instances of humans harming innocent demons. Do not place too much weight on racial prejudice.”

This was the first time Luo Binghe had heard a figure of authority express such a view. He listened, stunned, his heart pounding wildly. “Shizun means… even if one is closely connected to demons, it may not be an intolerable offense against heaven and earth. Is that right?”

Shen Qingqiu countered, “Intolerable to heaven and earth? On what grounds? If it were truly intolerable, why would it exist? Who decides what is tolerable and what is not?”

A series of rhetorical questions followed, and Luo Binghe’s eyes gradually brightened, a simmering fervor stirring within him.

Finally, Shen Qingqiu said, “Luo Binghe, in the future, you may take or leave the words this master says to you. But what I tell you here today, you must remember firmly. In this world, nothing is inherently intolerable to heaven and earth. This holds true for races, and for people.”

Though Luo Binghe’s heart was currently set on the righteous path, he was no rigid ideologue. Since there was no way to eliminate this connection, he might as well turn it to his advantage.

He had to become stronger!

Strong enough to never be powerless again. Strong enough to protect his master from anyone.

Watching his disciple’s eyes shine with newfound resolve, Shen Qingqiu, unaware of his thoughts, felt a complex mix of emotions.

His guidance wasn’t purely for the sake of playing the role of the transcendent, wise mentor to the protagonist.

Though this was an age-old, oft-repeated principle—rehashed for decades in period dramas, wuxia, and xianxia series without much evolution—in a world where the enmity between humans and demons ran deep, a grudge considered irreconcilable since ancient times, forged through countless wars, such a view was extraordinarily radical. Even to the point of defying the consensus of the entire world.

As a half-blood, Luo Binghe had been battered by such prejudices his entire life. There had been times he’d blamed all his misfortune on his heritage, believing he was an abomination in the eyes of heaven and earth, that he never should have been born at all.

Shen Qingqiu hoped these words would plant a seed in his heart now—a seed that would broaden his perspective. When the truth eventually came to light, perhaps he could face it with acceptance. When others attacked his lineage, perhaps he wouldn’t take it so deeply to heart. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t grow so twisted, so consumed by the desire to make the world suffer for his pain.

Even when facing the one who would eventually kick him into the Endless Abyss… he should understand it wasn’t his fault.

If that could be achieved, then when the plot demanded it and the System forced him to spout lines like, “Humans and demons can never coexist! The chasm between our races is too deep! Just go die already!”—well, even if his face got slapped raw by the hypocrisy, he’d bear it.

Here, the tone shifted. Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt he’d been laying it on a bit thick just now. A wave of awkwardness prickled over him, and he cleared his throat. “That said, demons are naturally born with spiritual power far surpassing that of humans. If that strength could be harnessed for the righteous path, wouldn’t that be a great boon for all living beings?”

When it came to innate talent for cultivating arcane arts, demons absolutely crushed humanity. Different races, different energy systems. Humans relied on spiritual energy; demons on demonic energy. Shen Qingqiu suspected it was basically the same stuff, just a different color and name. Maybe the demon realm had better feng shui or something, because most demons were born with their demonic energy already maxed out. Ripping people apart by age three, splitting mountains by age eight… okay, that was an exaggeration.

But the hard truth was, many humans of mediocre talent could cultivate for decades and still only reach the level of a demon toddler. More were like dried-up ponds, their spiritual power a flat zero—the so-called “spiritually rootless” or “fated outside the immortal gates.” It was brutally unfair. If not for the fact that demons, unlike prolific humanity, had a sparse population (strict family planning policies, perhaps), the human realm would have been colonized long ago.

After all this earth-shaking drama, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t slept a wink. Dark circles hung under his eyes. He waved a hand. “The night is deep. Since there’s nothing else, go and rest.”

Luo Binghe obediently took his leave. But he’d only taken a few steps outside when Shen Qingqiu’s voice called from behind.

“Come back.”