Hatred Born of Love, Su Qingge's Scheme
Hatred Born of Love, Su Qingge’s Scheme
“Speak. Who exactly are you? Or are you merely a pawn the true Successor of Demonic Arts uses to deceive the world?”
“Even if you survived by the skin of your teeth back then, you are no match for me now. You managed to escape last time—do you really think you’ll have such good luck again today?”
Within the tranquil courtyard, Lan Yifei stood with his hands clasped behind his back, speaking indifferently, his entire body seemingly surging with endless light.
He was utterly confident. He did not turn around, his face bearing a calm smile, as if certain that the intruder could never be his match.
As the bearer of the True Dao Source Physique—an exceedingly mysterious constitution that had appeared only a handful of times in the Beyond since ancient times—he truly possessed such confidence.
This physique was naturally in harmony with the Dao. From the moment of birth, a Dao Source was produced within the body, allowing one to draw upon the power of all things in heaven and earth.
As long as the divine soul endured, his magic power would never run dry—truly inexhaustible, placing him in an invincible position from the very start.
Even when facing opponents far stronger than himself, he had the means to protect himself and escape. He had no fear of falling.
Some time ago, for reasons unknown, word of his True Dao Source Physique had accidentally leaked out.
Then, during one of his outings, he was ambushed by the Successor of Demonic Arts.
Given all the rumors, Lan Yifei had been deeply wary of the Successor of Demonic Arts, knowing full well how rare and precious his Source was.
If word spread, it would inevitably draw the covetous eyes of the Successor of Demonic Arts.
So when he was attacked that time, he had already steeled himself for a desperate, life-or-death struggle.
But he never—not in a million years—expected that he had vastly overestimated the strength of the Successor of Demonic Arts who came to kill him.
The assailant’s cultivation was actually a whole level below his own.
Even facing such an opponent, Lan Yifei dared not grow careless. After all, a man’s reputation casts a long shadow.
Among the younger generation of the Beyond, who wouldn’t feel their legs turn to jelly when facing the Successor of Demonic Arts?
Yet in the battle that followed, he discovered that this so-called Successor of Demonic Arts was nowhere near as terrifying as the outside world believed.
The opponent’s methods were tricky and bizarre, impossible to guard against, but they fell far short of the level that could sweep aside the entire younger generation with ease.
After all, in Lan Yifei’s eyes, the Successor of Demonic Arts was the one and only person who had escaped with his life from Gu Changge’s hands multiple times.
How could such a figure be simple? In the entire vast Beyond, who could be confident of escaping Gu Changge’s grasp unscathed and keeping their life?
Yet the Successor of Demonic Arts had done exactly that.
Just thinking about it was enough to make one’s scalp tingle and hair stand on end.
However, holding such thoughts at the time, he soon discovered he had been wrong again.
The Successor of Demonic Arts who had dared to ambush him seemed to realize something was amiss in the end and began to retreat, intending to flee far away.
Lan Yifei understood that it was because he had kept too low a profile, never displaying his true strength to the outside world, that the Successor of Demonic Arts had grown careless and underestimated him.
So he gave chase without hesitation, and what followed came as no surprise.
After a round of fighting, this Successor of Demonic Arts—who had stirred up storms across all corners of the Beyond—proved no match for him. The assailant fled the whole way and was nearly slain by his hand.
In the end, the figure escaped to the borders of the territory where Devil Mountain lay. Wary of the fearsome demoness in red whose vicious might reigned within, Lan Yifei withdrew and let the matter rest.
Afterward, back at his sect, the more Lan Yifei thought about it, the more something felt wrong. He came to feel that the Successor of Demonic Arts who had attacked him was likely an impostor or a stand-in—not the genuine article.
Had it been the true Successor of Demonic Arts, he would probably have been killed long ago.
After all, before the true Successor of Demonic Arts, no matter what physique one possessed, one was nothing but prey.
Since ancient times, there had never been a case of prey escaping the hunter’s grasp.
Though Lan Yifei was confident in his strength, that did not mean he was blindly arrogant.
His years of low-profile cultivation, never making a great name for himself in the outside world, were precisely for this reason.
Thinking it over carefully later, he became increasingly convinced that he had accidentally stumbled upon a heaven-shaking secret.
He had never breathed a word of this matter—not even to the elders or his shifu.
Until today, when the one he deemed an impostor—the fake Successor of Demonic Arts—actually appeared again, intending to take revenge on him.
This struck Lan Yifei as utterly laughable.
Still, what he wanted to know even more was whether the true Successor of Demonic Arts was hiding behind this person.
And who exactly was that true Successor of Demonic Arts?
“You’re that confident? Confident that I can’t kill you this time? That I can’t take your Source?”
A cold, placid voice rang out, its gender indistinguishable, revealing only a bone-chilling killing intent that made one’s blood run cold.
The courtyard was exceedingly quiet and serene—a small bridge over murmuring water, artificial hills and pavilions arranged in artful disorder. Were it not for the astonishing killing intent pervading the air, the place would have seemed quite elegant.
His thoughts returning to the present, Lan Yifei turned around unhurriedly, looking toward the source of the voice.
“You’re welcome to try. I’d very much like to know what progress you’ve made over these past few months.”
“But what I want to know even more is who you really are,” he said indifferently, appearing perfectly composed and at ease.
This place had already been rigged by him with an Inescapable Net—divine runes linking heaven and earth, connecting to the order of the rules, Sealing the Heaven and Earth.
Not even a fly could hope to escape.
For the intruder to barge in so boldly, so fearlessly, struck him as both laughable and idiotic.
“Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that you die today.”
The voice in the shadows remained cold and unrippled, seemingly devoid of the slightest emotion.
With that, a terrifying black gale swept forth, carrying waves of Grand Runes, hurtling toward Lan Yifei.
It was a world-shaking killing strike, containing a dreadful sound of the Great Dao, enough to shatter a cultivator’s divine soul and annihilate all tangible things.
However, Lan Yifei seemed to have sensed this killing intent long in advance. He merely raised an eyebrow.
Then boundless radiance burst forth beneath his feet, condensing into a massive mountain of heavy runes that blocked the world-shaking strike.
As the bearer of the True Dao Source Physique, born one with the Dao, standing beneath heaven and earth he was the darling of this realm. His magic power was inexhaustible, sufficient to suppress all things.
He could sense that his opponent’s strength had improved considerably compared to several months ago. Most likely, during her time recovering from her injuries, she had received guidance from some great master.
But to think she could defeat him with that was still far too naive.
“You are no match for me. Tell me who the true Successor of Demonic Arts is, and perhaps I’ll consider sparing you—letting you keep your life.”
Lan Yifei said indifferently.
Hidden in the shadows all this time, never having shown herself, Su Qingge furrowed her delicate brows at these words, feeling that matters were still quite thorny.
She had thought that after this period at Devil Mountain, under the guidance of Chan Hongyi—the demoness in red, a master of the demonic arts lineage—her cultivation had deepened considerably, enough to come take Lan Yifei’s Source and avenge the pursuit that had nearly killed her back then.
But Lan Yifei’s strength was still formidable. It seemed she was not the only one who had been improving.
In the Beyond of today, nearly every member of the younger generation was racking their brains for ways to catch up to that man’s footsteps.
“The true Successor of Demonic Arts? So even you think I’m a fake?”
Su Qingge spoke coldly. Thinking of how she had been fooled and deceived by Gu Changge all this time, manipulated in the palm of his hand without ever realizing it, a trace of viciousness and hatred could not help but surface in her eyes.
She understood that her hatred for Gu Changge was, to some extent, influenced by Chan Hongyi.
Had Chan Hongyi not told her, she would probably still be kept in the dark by Gu Changge even now, believing all along that she herself was the true Successor of Demonic Arts.
While he was the leader of the righteous path, the foremost figure of the current Beyond—his immortal radiance resplendent, blazing like the midday sun, his brilliance eclipsing the ages.
The deeper her love had been back then, the deeper her hatred now that she knew the truth.
After leaving Devil Mountain, she had once considered seeking out Gu Changge to demand answers about all of this.
But Su Qingge feared even more the sight of Gu Changge tearing off his gentle mask, revealing those cold, merciless eyes beneath.
It was he who had brought her up from the Overworld back then, letting her gradually come to understand this world.
It was no exaggeration to say that without Gu Changge, there would be no Su Qingge of today.
It was Gu Changge who had single-handedly shaped who she now was.
The person who had once given her boundless hope and warmth—once that hypocritical mask was stripped away, all that remained was endless coldness and cruelty.
“Oh? So it seems you’ve only just realized that you’re a fake Successor of Demonic Arts? In that case, all this time, you’ve been taking the fall and bearing the blame for the real one?”
Lan Yifei seemed to find the matter utterly hilarious, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery and ridicule.
A chill flashed through Su Qingge’s eyes. “Enough pointless talk. Today, I will take your Source.”
Seeing that Su Qingge, hidden in the shadows, was about to strike again, Lan Yifei’s expression turned cold as well. “You don’t know what’s good for you. Do you really think this meager strength of yours compares to the true Successor of Demonic Arts? You want to kill me? You?”
His words struck a sore spot. Su Qingge’s face grew even colder, her slender hands clenching tight, a dreadful, murderous aura coiling around her.
She understood that after fusing with her other soul, her state of mind was no longer the calm and placid one of before.
In daily life, many things would now provoke an unimaginably murderous, vicious fury within her heart.
“It seems you’re nothing but a pitiful pawn as well—one who doesn’t even know who the true Successor of Demonic Arts is.”
Lan Yifei shook his head, then let out a cold laugh.
Su Qingge suddenly fell silent, unable to refute this. Though she now understood it was too late, what Lan Yifei said was an indisputable fact.
In Gu Changge’s eyes, she was perhaps nothing more than exactly such a pawn.
“I know who he is.”
Su Qingge’s expression returned to calm indifference as she spoke, still concealed in the shadows.
“You know?”
Lan Yifei’s face froze. Then, seemingly unable to believe it, he asked in a deep voice, “How am I supposed to trust you?”
Not just him—there was likely no one in the entire Beyond today who didn’t want to know who the true Successor of Demonic Arts was.
For a moment, an irrepressible excitement surged in his heart. Perhaps it was after witnessing Su Qingge’s methods that he had gained a clearer understanding of his own strength.
“Unknown and obscure for twenty years, then with a single emergence, the whole world knows your name.”
“If the true Successor of Demonic Arts were exposed by my hand, then all these years of keeping a low profile and biding my time would no longer be necessary.”
A sharp gleam flashed in Lan Yifei’s eyes, his emotions surging with excitement as a great many thoughts raced through his mind at once.
“Of course I know. To me, he is my enemy.”
Su Qingge said indifferently, then stated her terms. “I know you want to know who he is too. So the two of us can make a deal. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, and in exchange, in your capacity as the Chosen One of the Immortal Dao Alliance, you will gather Sources of physiques for me.”
Hearing this, Lan Yifei laughed coldly, appearing quite disdainful. “And why would I need to make a deal with you? After I kill you, I can simply perform a Soul Search. You really think you hold all the cards, don’t you?”
He was no fool. If the matter of collecting Sources were ever exposed, even the Immortal Dao Alliance wouldn’t be able to protect him.
“Since I dared to show myself here, I’m naturally not worried that you can kill me.”
“If you refuse, then I’ll add one more condition—I will impart to you everything I know of the Immortal-Devouring Demonic Art.”
Su Qingge seemed unsurprised by Lan Yifei’s reaction. The corners of her lips curled into a cold smile as she continued speaking indifferently.
Since Gu Changge had used her as a pawn, why couldn’t she learn from Gu Changge and use others as pawns in turn?
Hearing these words, even someone of Lan Yifei’s temperament suddenly fell silent, his brows knitting tightly, visibly torn.
Though all the various powers and orthodoxies of the Beyond loathed the Successor of Demonic Arts to the bone, wishing nothing more than to utterly erase him...
If the Demonic Arts were to fall into one’s own hands, who could truly claim they wouldn’t be tempted?
Su Qingge watched his expression, unsurprised, and said nothing more.
For a time, the courtyard sank into dead silence. After what seemed like a full incense stick’s worth of silence, Lan Yifei’s expression finally settled.
“Fine. I accept.”
He agreed. Deep in his eyes, something like wildfire burned and spread, then quickly subsided, returning to calm confidence.
Watching him like this, Su Qingge laughed coldly in her heart—fool—though her face showed no change.
Even if Lan Yifei learned that Gu Changge was the true Successor of Demonic Arts, what of it?
Would he dare confront him? Would he dare investigate or pursue the matter?
And the ending that awaited him was nothing more than this: cultivating the Demonic Arts, drawing Gu Changge’s attention, and becoming the new scapegoat.