Qing Xun now had a master.

His master, Bai Cang, was the leader of Wu Ya Sect, the most powerful demonic cultivator there.

Qing Xun didn’t understand much, especially not what it meant to be a “furnace” but he knew one thing: he now belonged to Bai Cang, and his life or death depended entirely on his master’s whims.

It was said that demonic cultivators here were extremely cruel, known for torturing and killing their slaves. Qing Xun had already accepted the idea of death. Living one more day, two more days, three more days—it didn’t really seem to make a difference.

He trembled as he closed his eyes, bracing himself for his fate.

But what happened next surprised him. It wasn’t as terrifying as he had imagined. He opened his eyes in confusion, wondering why the other boys and girls were so frightened by this.

Was this the same kind of thing the men in the village used to do to the woman?

Qing Xun didn’t understand.

Because he now had a powerful master, Qing Xun lived a life he had never even dared to dream of.

Even in the barren, desolate Western Desolate Region, he was eating fish and meat at every meal, sleeping on a soft bed he had never imagined, wearing silk robes he had never touched before, and staying in a room inlaid with luminous pearls, with servants to wait on him…

Was this what it meant to be a furnace?

Was this the life that others spoke of, the kind that comes with having a powerful master?

No wonder it was so enviable…

Everything felt so unreal, like he was walking on clouds. Qing Xun was so careful, afraid that this was all just a dream he would wake up from. But as time passed, he realized he didn’t have to do much—he just needed to please his master, and he could have all of this effortlessly.

He couldn’t help it—greed started to grow in his heart.

He wanted to stay like this forever. He didn’t want to go back to how things were before.

He wanted to live… No more starving, no more freezing, no more living in constant fear.

Resignation came because there was no hope, no way to fight back. But as soon as there was the slightest chance to change his fate, the desires buried deep within his heart began to stir once again.

He never wanted to die.

So, he started using what little intelligence he had to figure out how to please his master.

Qing Xun remembered how, back in Heishui Village, the village chief’s wife would dress up, applying makeup and walking with a sway in her hips to please the ugly old man. It worked every time—the village chief would be completely enthralled by her. This was the only way Qing Xun had ever seen a man being pleased. He was much better looking than the village chief’s wife, so surely he could make his master like him even more.

Qing Xun asked the servants to bring him all kinds of clothes and makeup. He spent an entire day standing in front of the mirror, using his limited imagination to figure out what men liked. He carefully drew his eyebrows, applied lipstick, and powdered his cheeks. Then he changed into what he thought was the best outfit—a flowery, pale green gauze robe—and stood by the door from morning until night, waiting to greet his master.

His heart was full of nervousness and uncertainty, but he couldn’t stop imagining his master being dazzled by his appearance.

Late at night, Bai Cang finally arrived.

As always, Bai Cang was dressed in black, with a faint smell of blood still clinging to him. He stopped abruptly when he saw Qing Xun at the door, his cold, sharp eyes fixed on him.

Qing Xun’s smile froze. Why wasn’t his master coming over? Did he not like the way he looked?

Just as panic and anxiety began to rise in him—

He heard something he had never expected: his master’s laughter. The usually stern and cold Bai Cang let out a hearty laugh, as if he had just seen something incredibly amusing.

His master was laughing.

Qing Xun was stunned for a moment, then smiled along with him.

Bai Cang walked over in large strides, picked him up with one hand, and tossed him onto the soft couch. Looking down at him, Bai Cang let out a teasing laugh: “You’re funny. I like you.”

Qing Xun’s eyes sparkled, like a puppy wagging its tail in delight, overjoyed by his master’s praise.

His master gave him food and warmth, made sure no one dared to harm him, and gave him things he had never dreamed of.

His master had pulled him out of the bottomless abyss.

He liked his master.

If his master was happy, then he was happy.

One year passed in the blink of an eye.

During this year, Qing Xun saw people around him die constantly.

He saw twisted, dried corpses thrown into mass graves, slaves with their hands and feet cut off and collars placed around their necks, pitiful “medicine men” used for alchemy and cultivation, and servants who were brutally executed over the slightest mistake… The boys and girls who had arrived with him were all dead, their familiar faces gradually disappearing…

A year later, less than one-tenth of them were still alive.

Qing Xun finally understood why they had envied him so much. He hadn’t just survived—he was living better than any of them.

And all he had to do was serve his master. His master, the most powerful person in Wu Ya Sect, gave him a life of luxury and never beat or tortured him… When his master was in a good mood, he would even hold Qing Xun on his lap and play with him like a pet, spending a little time with him…

Qing Xun became so dependent on Bai Cang, it was as if his master was his whole world, his entire existence.

Then something happened.

Wu Ya Sect got into a conflict with Bloodshard Sect over territory. The leader of Bloodshard Sect couldn’t match Bai Cang’s power, so after being injured, he stormed into Wu Ya Sect in a rage, killing and retaliating wildly. That day, Qing Xun was waiting for his master to return, like always, sitting obediently like a pet. Suddenly, an old man with bright red hair appeared in the sky!

The old man’s gaze swept over Qing Xun, his hawk-like eyes locking onto him like prey.

Qing Xun’s whole body froze in fear. He had always stayed within Wu Ya Sect, never seeing outsiders, much less someone this terrifying.

The red-haired elder laughed maniacally, roaring, “Bai Cang! I’ll slaughter everyone in your Wu Ya Sect. What can you do about it?”

The elder waved his hand, and flames surged forward. Qing Xun fell to the ground, watching the firestorm approach. It took him back to a year ago, when the woman had been burned on a pyre by the villagers. The fire had burned all night and day, and now there was no one left to stand in front of him…

Qing Xun closed his eyes, waiting for death. But after a long time, he didn’t smell the scent of burning flesh.

What was going on?

Qing Xun slowly opened his eyes.

Standing before him was the figure of a man, black-clad like a god of death. His back was turned to Qing Xun, his blade having split the roaring flames in half. The ground on either side of Qing Xun was scorched, but he remained untouched, not even a spark landing on him…

The man’s face was cold and sharp, a cruel smile playing on his lips. With both hands, he grabbed the red-haired elder’s shoulders and tore him in half!

Blood splattered all over Qing Xun’s head and face, hot and sticky, leaving him dazed and trembling…

Then, the man turned around, glanced at Qing Xun, and let out a mocking laugh. “Useless thing.”

Qing Xun had always known that he was useless.

Once, he had been a burden to the woman, and now he was nothing more than a toy for the man.

He could only survive by relying on others.

But even though I’m useless, you still saved me.

Qing Xun stared at the man in front of him with greedy, longing eyes. Only he knew… in that moment, the man’s back overlapped with the woman’s.

The man stood there, invincible and unreachable, like a god in his world.

The figure he had chased in vain, the one that had drifted further and further from him, had finally appeared before him once again…

You’ve given me a life without fear, without hunger, without freezing. I no longer have to trade my life for just a meal…

Qing Xun couldn’t deny that he was addicted to all of this.

Greedy, he wanted to stay by his master’s side forever.

As long as he could stay by his master’s side…

He was willing to do anything.

As long as this dream wouldn’t end.

Bai Cang killed the leader of Bloodshard Sect, leaving the remaining members of the sect without a leader. They were slaughtered by Wu Ya Sect, and the few who survived begged for their lives, offering to surrender in exchange for mercy. But Bai Cang showed no mercy, killing them all. That night, the Wu Ya Sect hall was drenched in blood. The bodies of Bloodshard Sect’s disciples were used to fuel a demonic array, their corpses turned into undead puppets. These fearless, pain-immune puppets would continue to fight Bai Cang’s battles.

Bai Cang’s ruthless nature sent shockwaves through the other sects, but he didn’t care. In the Western Desolate Region, it was kill or be killed. There was no room for mercy.

Life at Wu Ya Sect soon returned to normal.

That year, Wu Ya Sect received another batch of tribute, including a few high-quality furnaces. Bai Cang’s subordinates brought them over, but Bai Cang showed little interest, casually distributing the boys and girls to his followers…

Bai Cang looked at the nervous Qing Xun, pinching his chin with a teasing smile. “Don’t worry. You’re enough for me.”

Qing Xun stared blankly into Bai Cang’s eyes, falling into the depths of those dark purple pupils. Once, Qing Xun’s world had been filled with nothing but fear and despair… but this man’s existence had brought life to his barren world. Like sprouts breaking through hard soil, small shoots of hope began to grow. He started to long for things he had never thought possible…

He dared to hope that, maybe, he was special to his master.

Qing Xun survived two years in the Wu Ya Sect.

After two years, everyone knew that Bai Cang favored him the most. The other demonic cultivators despised him, but they couldn’t do anything about it. Bai Cang’s dog was more precious than their lives…

Bai Cang liked how amusing Qing Xun was and indulged him, even occasionally taking him out.

The sky in the Western Desolate Region was always gray and cloudy, like a dirty, suffocating blanket, with sunlight barely managing to squeeze through the cracks…

One day, Bai Cang took Qing Xun to visit an ally.

The lord of Zhan Yun Mountain was a thousand-year-old python demon. Although the demons and devils of the Western Desolate Region were constantly at odds, they sometimes formed alliances. The mountain lord and Bai Cang were allied. The lord had yellow, murky, snake-like eyes and a long, narrow face, with patches of scales still clinging to his temples. His gaze toward Qing Xun was filled with lust.

Qing Xun shrank in fear, hiding behind Bai Cang. As long as his master was there, no one could hurt him.

The mountain lord warmly welcomed Bai Cang, and the banquet was a joyous affair. Bai Cang suddenly raised an eyebrow and asked, “Could you part with that thousand-year-old bloodvine?”

The mountain lord laughed heartily. “Since the great Bai Cang asks with such sincerity, how could I refuse?”

Bai Cang accepted the bloodvine with a satisfied expression.

And with that, the banquet came to an end.

Bai Cang suddenly stood up. He affectionately glanced at Qing Xun, patting his head with a low chuckle. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

Qing Xun clung to Bai Cang’s robe. Everything here was so strange, making him anxious and fearful. He didn’t want to be separated from his master, and his eyes silently pleaded with him… but Bai Cang frowned coldly at Qing Xun’s hand.

Qing Xun let go. He didn’t want to upset his master.

His master had promised to come back, so he would come back.

Nothing bad would happen… right?

Bai Cang left.

All he left behind was the sight of his receding figure.

The mountain lord slithered closer to Qing Xun, his snake’s tail gleaming with cold, cruel light as it coiled and flicked toward him.

Qing Xun’s fear spiked, and he instinctively tried to flee.

But he didn’t even make it a step before the massive snake tail wrapped around him, pulling him back. The mountain lord hissed in his ear, his voice dripping with malice, “Your master has already given you to me.”

Those words hit like a bolt of lightning, freezing Qing Xun’s entire body. His lips trembled as he stammered, trying to refute the claim. No, that couldn’t be true. His master wouldn’t abandon him. He was his master’s favorite…

He was his master’s favorite…

His master would come back…

Over and over, Qing Xun repeated the same thing.

As if repeating it would make it true.

But it was useless. Even if he said it a thousand or ten thousand times, his master wouldn’t return…

He had been discarded.

Qing Xun couldn’t accept it.

No, this couldn’t be happening. His master loved him. His master treated him so well. His master wouldn’t abandon him.

He clung desperately to the belief that his master hadn’t abandoned him…

As if that belief was the only thing keeping him alive in the face of despair.

In that moment, Qing Xun, who had always drifted along with the current, felt something new stir within him—an intense desire, a refusal to accept his fate.

He had to see his master. He had to ask him, face to face, if his master had just accidentally forgotten him. Surely, his master hadn’t abandoned him on purpose…

Maybe his master had run into danger and hadn’t had time to come back for him…

He had to go back and find his master…

Qing Xun pretended to submit, deceiving the mountain lord. Then, when the mountain lord was distracted, he seized the opportunity to escape.

The journey to the mountain had been easy.

But the journey back was full of thorns.

Many times, Qing Xun thought he was going to die. Without food or water, any monster could have killed him. The road was full of swamps and deadly creatures… It was like he had returned to the old days, to those times when he would do anything just to eat, struggling to survive in a world filled with danger…

He had once believed those days were far behind him, that he would never go back to such a past.

He had thought he would never again starve or live in constant fear of death.

But that day came suddenly, without warning…

Still, he couldn’t die here. He had to return to his master’s side.

That belief was the only thing that kept him going on the long road back.

After days and nights of struggle, Qing Xun finally made it back to Wu Ya Sect. He was covered in mud, his hands and feet caked in blood, his clothes in tatters. The demonic cultivators at the gate nearly killed him, but they recognized him and brought him to Bai Cang.

Qing Xun stood in front of the familiar courtyard, starving, bleeding, and barely able to stand… But he still held on to a faint hope as he pushed open the door.

His master lounged inside, a clean, delicate boy kneeling at his feet, holding up a glass bowl of grapes. The boy gazed at Bai Cang with admiration and flattery.

That boy was sitting in the place Qing Xun had once occupied, wearing the clothes Qing Xun had once worn, replacing him at his master’s side…

The boy wasn’t as beautiful as Qing Xun, but he wasn’t bad either. Dressed neatly, he made the bloodied, dirty Qing Xun look even more wretched and ridiculous.

Bai Cang glanced at Qing Xun, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his brows furrowed in displeasure. He looked at Qing Xun as if he were something dirty and said coldly, “Why are you back?”

The last glimmer of hope was shattered by Bai Cang’s indifferent gaze and casual words, turning into icy shards that froze Qing Xun’s blood.

At that moment, he could no longer deceive himself.

He couldn’t keep pretending his master had simply forgotten him.

He couldn’t keep pretending his master had run into danger.

The truth was simple: his master didn’t want him anymore.

His master had traded him away for a thousand-year-old bloodvine. That was all there was to it.

Just like the mountain lord had said from the beginning.

This obsession had always been meaningless.

He had been foolish, thinking he was somehow different to Bai Cang. But in truth, nothing had ever changed. He had always been the same—lowly, worthless, a mere furnace, a toy that his god had once pitied.

Nothing had ever changed.

The dream he had hoped would never end…

Had finally come to an end.

Qing Xun was taken away. As something that had been given away, he no longer had the right to serve at Bai Cang’s side… The only thing to be thankful for was that Bai Cang didn’t expel him entirely. He was left to wander, becoming one of the lowest-ranking slaves.

Qing Xun drifted in a daze, living with the other slaves in filthy quarters, doing the dirtiest and most exhausting work. Others kicked him while he was down, and even the slaves found amusement in bullying him, mocking him, taking most of his food and making him do the hardest chores.

New scars began to accumulate on his body, covering old wounds, like mud being ground into the earth by countless footsteps.

At first, he still felt unwilling, still felt the pain.

But gradually, he accepted that this was just his fate. After everything, he had simply returned to where he started… Or perhaps, that night when the villagers had dragged him out of the shack, he should have died in the fire.

He had once been given things that didn’t belong to him. Now, he was just giving them back.

That’s all.

Qing Xun never thought of leaving, because if he left, he would only die faster.

He lived in numbness, like a walking corpse, knowing that this was the life of a lowly ant like him. He had always known that… Now, he was just paying the price for his foolish, one-sided desires.

Sometimes, he and the other slaves would kneel and grovel on the ground as Bai Cang passed by.

But Bai Cang never looked at him again.

Gods are meant to remain above. He had no right to reach them, and he understood that now…

Until one night.

His god fell before him.

Wu Ya Sect had expanded rapidly under Bai Cang, swallowing up several surrounding sects. Bai Cang’s ruthless methods left no survivors—once he took over a sect, he left no one alive. Even in the cold, merciless Western Desolate Region, he was feared for his cruelty.

To stop Bai Cang’s advance, the scattered demonic sects formed an alliance.

In a move no one expected, seventeen sects joined forces and attacked Wu Ya Sect.

Wu Ya Sect’s disciples were caught off guard and slaughtered.

Blood flowed like rivers.

Three top experts teamed up to take down Bai Cang. Even with his formidable cultivation, Bai Cang was eventually overwhelmed and gravely injured.

Qing Xun had always thought Wu Ya Sect was the strongest sect and that Bai Cang was an invincible god.

But that day, as he cowered in a hidden corner, he watched as his god fell from the heavens.

He realized then that his god wasn’t invincible.

Bai Cang could die.

Wu Ya Sect could be destroyed.

It was just like his old village—survival of the fittest, only the strong could survive. No one could remain at the top forever.

Qing Xun stared blankly at it all until the black-clad man, drenched in blood, suddenly fell right in front of him.

It was Bai Cang.

The man who had once seemed like a demonic god, now pale and weak, like a dying beast… so close, right in front of him, struggling on the brink of death…

Qing Xun’s heart began to pound.

He wanted to move closer, but he was too scared. He hesitated, shrinking back as he watched Bai Cang… Until he heard voices approaching—the search parties were coming.

The footsteps grew louder and closer…

Qing Xun gritted his teeth and sprang into action, using all his strength to drag Bai Cang into the dog hole where he had been hiding.

The footsteps passed overhead, leaves covering the hole’s entrance. No one realized there were two people hiding below.

The dog hole was narrow, forcing Bai Cang to bend his long legs. The two of them were pressed close together. Qing Xun didn’t dare meet Bai Cang’s eyes. He had never done something this reckless before, dragging his god into a dog hole, sharing such a filthy, cramped space…

He didn’t even know where he had found the courage to get so close to Bai Cang.

The two of them huddled together, their body heat and breath intertwining. Qing Xun’s mouth was dry.

He thought back to the days when he had lived by Bai Cang’s side, to all the things he had been addicted to. But he shouldn’t have dared to hope for such things again—he should have known his place… He carefully curled up, trying to move farther away from Bai Cang.

Time passed slowly. Day turned to night and back again.

They never found Bai Cang, and soon the searchers gave up. Wu Ya Sect had fallen, and if Bai Cang emerged, he would surely meet his end.

But they had run out of food.

They were at the end of the line.

Bai Cang, weakened by his injuries, was unstable, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When Bai Cang was unconscious, Qing Xun was able to look at him freely, staring at him with a greed he had never allowed himself before… These three days, hiding together in the dog hole, were the closest he had ever been to Bai Cang—the closest he had ever been to his god, in ways he had never dared to dream of.

But Bai Cang was going to die.

Qing Xun remembered the mountain lord’s words, back when he had been handed over. The mountain lord had told him that he was a rare and valuable furnace, not only good for dual cultivation to enhance power but also an excellent top-tier tonic if someone absorbed all his essence and blood. He was highly valuable to demonic cultivators, a walking, breathing cultivation resource.

That was why the mountain lord had been willing to trade the thousand-year-old bloodvine for him.

They had no more food, but if Bai Cang absorbed his essence, maybe he would regain some strength. That way, he wouldn’t die here.

Bai Cang had a better chance of survival than Qing Xun.

Better that one person live than both die, right?

Besides, Qing Xun had already outlived his time.

Qing Xun hesitantly reached out, gently cradling Bai Cang’s face. Such a bold action was something he would never have dared before…

But this time, he finally found the courage.

This was the man who had given him a life of comfort when he had been lost and helpless… The man who had stood in front of him, shielding him when he had faced death.

This man had given him so much, and yet he didn’t even have the right to chase after his shadow.

He was too lowly…

Even being discarded, he could only accept it.

Maybe Bai Cang sensed something, because he opened his eyes. Those purple eyes were as cold as ever, but there was something else in them.

Qing Xun smiled—a light, free smile, the happiest he had ever felt in his life. Softly, he said, “Master, use me.”

This was the last thing he could offer. In the end…

He still had some use, didn’t he?

At Qing Xun’s words, Bai Cang’s eyes turned cold, and he tried to push him away. But Bai Cang was too weak now, unable even to push Qing Xun aside.

Qing Xun looked at him with unwavering focus, his beautiful eyes shining with a brilliance he had never shown before. He lowered his head and gently kissed Bai Cang’s lips, smiling brightly. In Bai Cang’s eyes, Qing Xun saw his own reflection—

A bit mischievous, a bit smug, a bit bold, and finally, a bit relieved, as if a bird had finally broken free from its chains.

He had always lived a humble life.

Weak, timid, and powerless, he had never made a decision for himself.

He had always been swept along by fate, letting it dictate his every move.

But for the first time, he had acted on his own, without hesitation, and it felt…

So, so good.

Author’s Note:

Author: Clap clap clap! Let’s give a warm welcome to our first frontrunner for the crematorium—cough I mean, the redemption arc!

Bai Cang: ???

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