Bai Cang had been stuck at this cultivation level for a long time.

In the Western Wasteland, if you couldn’t keep getting stronger, you would eventually die at the hands of someone else.

He needed the Thousand-Year Blood Vine.

Bai Cang personally went to meet the Master of Cloud-Slicing Mountain, a brute demon. The master offered the Thousand-Year Blood Vine but demanded Bai Cang exchange it for the pure yin furnace.

Bai Cang asked if he could offer other treasures instead, but the mountain master only wanted the pure yin furnace.

Bai Cang didn’t respond right away. He returned to Wuya Sect.

As usual, Qing Xun was waiting for him, showing a bright, flattering smile. His beautiful eyes were filled with admiration, as if his entire world and hopes revolved around Bai Cang. The way he softly called Bai Cang “Master” was like a gentle stream, softly rippling through Bai Cang’s heart.

Today, Bai Cang didn’t need to hesitate. After all, Qing Xun was just a furnace, rare as he was, and he had outlived his usefulness.

Yet, he hadn’t directly agreed to the Master of Cloud-Slicing Mountain’s demand. Perhaps, in that brief moment, he had thought of the boy waiting for him, and so he hesitated.

That night, Bai Cang ordered his servants to prepare a feast.

Qing Xun was overjoyed when he saw the food. Mealtimes were his happiest moments. Maybe because he had suffered from hunger as a child, Qing Xun had developed the habit of finishing everything on his plate, no matter what it was. Even when he was full, he didn’t waste a single bite, licking his fingers clean afterward… It seemed that simply being able to eat his fill was enough to make him content.

He was obedient, understanding, and never asked for much.

Living in such a world, he still remained so pure.

For a moment, Bai Cang thought, “Maybe I should let it go.”

Without the Thousand-Year Blood Vine, he could search for something else… It was rare to find something so in line with his preferences. Losing it would be a shame.

Three days later, Bai Cang received a report from his spies.

Several demonic sects in the Arid Mountains had recently been in close contact, secretly recruiting soldiers with the intent to attack Wuya Sect while he was distracted.

Bai Cang’s expression darkened. Those demonic leaders, individually, were no match for him, but if they joined forces, it could be troublesome. His cultivation had been stagnant for a long time, and he wasn’t confident he could deal with them all. If he didn’t break through soon, both he and Wuya Sect could face annihilation.

Time was running out.

Long ago, Bai Cang had learned one simple truth: to survive, you had to keep growing stronger and kill others before they killed you. His strength was the only thing he could rely on; everything else was an illusion.

Strictly speaking, he and Qing Xun were no different. They were both willing to do anything to survive. The only difference was that Qing Xun could rely on him, but Bai Cang could rely on no one.

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Bai Cang took Qing Xun to Cloud-Slicing Mountain.

Bai Cang rarely brought the boy out, so Qing Xun stayed close to his side, cautiously curious about the outside world. He longed for it, but his weakness forced him to depend on others. Because Bai Cang had rarely taken him out before, Qing Xun was elated… He didn’t even consider what might happen to him.

When Bai Cang met Qing Xun’s admiring gaze, he pushed aside the faint sense of pity and reluctance that flickered in his heart. Such emotions were something he couldn’t afford to have.

Once you began to show weakness, death followed.

To survive, he could give up anything, just like that day—he had twisted Bai Zhou’s neck without hesitation, watching him die before his very eyes.

He would discard any burden that slowed him down and crush any obstacle in his way.

He had never hesitated or softened, and that was how he had survived this long.

The Master of Cloud-Slicing Mountain was delighted to see Bai Cang and treated him warmly. After the banquet, Bai Cang said to Qing Xun, “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

Qing Xun seemed uneasy, not wanting to leave his side for even a moment. The outside world was too dangerous for him. He clung to Bai Cang’s clothes, his eyes filled with a pleading emotion.

He was begging him not to leave him alone.

But Bai Cang remained unmoved, coldly staring at the boy’s hand.

Qing Xun flinched. Although he was scared, he eventually withdrew his hand timidly and gave Bai Cang a flattering smile. He didn’t want to, but he also didn’t dare make Bai Cang unhappy.

He hoped Bai Cang wouldn’t abandon him.

That he would come back for him.

But Bai Cang knew clearly in that moment that those words were just a hollow reassurance. He wasn’t coming back.

He turned and left.

Like discarding something insignificant. In truth, this decision should have been made three days ago.

Now, things were simply back on track.

Bai Cang obtained the Thousand-Year Blood Vine and began refining it in preparation for his breakthrough.

Noticing that Bai Cang was no longer accompanied by anyone, his subordinates gathered a few beautiful young men and sent them to him. Bai Cang didn’t want them at first, but as he saw the boys’ fearful yet admiring gazes, he thought of Qing Xun. Recently, without Qing Xun around, things had felt a little empty.

So, he casually pointed to one of them and said, “Stay.”

He didn’t need a furnace for dual cultivation. These useless boys couldn’t compare to Qing Xun, but having one around to amuse him wasn’t so bad.

The boy who was chosen was overjoyed. To him, this was a chance to live. He desperately tried to please Bai Cang, just like Qing Xun had… but at the same time, not like Qing Xun.

Bai Cang couldn’t quite put his finger on what was different.

So, he gradually stopped thinking about it.

For now, nothing was more important than his breakthrough.

However, just a few days later, he saw someone he never thought he would see again.

The boy he had abandoned had returned, his bare feet caked in mud and blood, his clean clothes torn and tattered, his frail body on the verge of collapse… Yet somehow, stubborn and determined, he had made his way back to stand before Bai Cang again.

Qing Xun had traversed thorns and scars, returning from a place where escape should have been impossible.

His eyes, filled with joy and hope, gazed at Bai Cang, as if seeing him again was his greatest desire. But the hope in his eyes shattered instantly when he saw the other boy by Bai Cang’s side.

Bai Cang saw the despair in Qing Xun’s eyes.

For a moment, it was as if he saw himself.

Wasn’t that the same despair he felt when Bai Zhou had stabbed him in the chest? Bai Cang understood that feeling—the refusal to accept reality, the denial of the obvious truth. He had deceived himself, thinking that as long as he didn’t know the truth, the lie could continue.

Did he really know nothing about Bai Zhou’s actions?

Maybe not.

Maybe he had just refused to admit the truth, wanting to hold on to the warmth, even if it was false.

Warmth was the rarest thing in this world…

But false warmth was still a coward’s way of escaping reality.

Bai Cang suddenly smiled and calmly asked the boy, “Why have you come back?”

Qing Xun staggered backward, looking at him with unfamiliar eyes.

But Bai Cang found it amusing.

Did you really trust me so much? Trust that I wouldn’t abandon you?

How could anyone be so naive as to trust others, just because they’d been given food and clothing?

Didn’t you know you were only ever my furnace?

Bai Cang’s eyes were filled with mockery. He didn’t mind shattering the boy’s final bit of trust, crushing it completely, leaving him with no more expectations of him. In fact, this was a kindness. Accepting the brutal truth was always more useful than clinging to a false dream. At least then, you could live—or die—knowing the truth.

He wouldn’t give anyone the chance to deceive him.

Nor would Bai Cang bother deceiving Qing Xun.

Though Qing Xun had returned, proving himself less useless than Bai Cang had thought, Bai Cang still wouldn’t keep him around. A person he had once discarded, someone who likely held a grudge against him, was not someone Bai Cang could afford to trust. Even though Qing Xun seemed weak, arrogance and complacency were the greatest enemies to survival.

After all, Bai Zhou hadn’t expected Bai Cang to kill him either, had he?

However, Bai Cang didn’t force Qing Xun to leave. Since he had come back on his own, he could stay if he wanted to. Given his rare pure yin furnace constitution, he might still prove useful someday.

Due to Qing Xun’s special status, though Bai Cang no longer wanted him, no other demon cultivator dared to touch him. So, he remained in Wuya Sect, reduced to the lowest-ranking servant.

Two months passed, and the refining of the Thousand-Year Blood Vine was nearing completion. Bai Cang was preparing to enter seclusion and break through.

One day, while passing through the sect, he saw the boy again. In just two short months, Qing Xun had lost all of his former brightness. His face was pale and dull, his hands covered in frostbite. He wore tattered clothes, so thin that a gust of wind might knock him over. It was clear he had gone hungry for quite some time.

Qing Xun seemed to have returned to his original state—timid, weak, and too afraid to approach him. Kneeling alongside the other servants, he probably hadn’t even noticed that Bai Cang was watching him.

But that was all.

Bai Cang turned and walked away.

He never picked up what he had thrown away.

Everything was ready, and Bai Cang was prepared to enter seclusion.

He had built a secret chamber beneath his residence. During his breakthrough, he would be at his weakest and couldn’t allow anyone to disturb him. He trusted no one, so this secret chamber would be his most secure fortress. Once he reached the realm of the true demon, few in the Western Wasteland would be able to challenge him.

But the unexpected still happened.

At the critical moment of his breakthrough, the secret chamber was breached. His most trusted subordinate, along with the boy who had replaced Qing Xun as his companion, led the demon cultivators from the Arid Mountains into the chamber.

His subordinate looked at him arrogantly and said, “So even you can fall. Once I kill you, I’ll take your place.”

The boy who had stayed by his side stared at him in fear, his eyes filled with greed. Though he didn’t say anything, it was clear he had already gained many benefits.

Several members of Wuya Sect had also betrayed him. Their eyes were filled with fear and hatred…

Bai Cang wasn’t surprised by their betrayal. He had never trusted them. What he hadn’t expected was that they had been conspiring with outsiders all along and that the chamber would be breached so quickly. Did they really believe the demon cultivators from the Arid Mountains would keep their promises?

Fools.

Five demon leaders joined forces to attack Bai Cang. The battle nearly leveled half the mountain. Bai Cang, interrupted in the middle of his breakthrough, was unable to unleash his full power and was quickly gravely injured. He transformed into a streak of light and fled.

He fell to the ground.

He knew he was going to die.

One wrong move would lead to eternal damnation.

Death wasn’t frightening. He had always been waiting for this moment… Everyone died eventually. It was just dying at the hands of such fools that made his efforts seem ridiculous, his end absurd and undignified.

But maybe that was his fate.

He had come into this world insignificantly, and he would leave it just as absurdly, like everyone else in the Western Wasteland.

High above, countless demon cultivators were searching for him. Bai Cang knew it wouldn’t be long before they found him.

But he didn’t want to run anymore.

Throughout his life, to stay alive, he had killed many people: his brother, his father, his subordinates, his friends… But he had no regrets, because they had all betrayed him first.

Every one of them had wanted him dead.

Yet at this moment, a strange sense of confusion washed over him. Why had he been so obsessed with staying alive?

The obsession with survival had been an instinct, ingrained deep in his bones, driving him to escape death time and time again, to walk out of every desperate situation… But this was the first time he wondered where that obsession was leading him…

It was a path with no end.

And there was nothing on it that he wanted.

He was alive, but only a puppet, controlled by fate.

Just like every person he had killed who had fought against death.

Bai Cang closed his eyes.

He decided to accept his fate willingly. This way, at least, fate wouldn’t control him anymore.

Above, he could hear the sound of the demon cultivators flying closer and closer…

At that moment, a pair of dirty hands suddenly grabbed him, dragging him into a small, filthy cave. A boy, covered in dust, quickly camouflaged the entrance with grass and then turned back to Bai Cang, trembling as he looked at him.

For a moment, Bai Cang was surprised, but he quickly regained his calm.

Yes, seek your revenge. Kill me. This is your chance for retribution.

Bai Cang waited calmly for Qing Xun to take his revenge, to bare his fangs… The rule of the Western Wasteland was simple: when the weak were enslaved by the strong, they would seize any chance to strike back, killing their oppressors, killing those who had harmed them. That was how the world worked.

Revenge was in human nature.

Hatred was an instinct.

Whether he died at the hands of the demon cultivators or at Qing Xun’s hands, Bai Cang thought the latter wouldn’t be so bad.

Bai Cang waited patiently. But after a long time, the boy still didn’t move.

He thought that perhaps Qing Xun didn’t want to kill him too quickly. Maybe he wanted to torture him slowly, savoring the moment. Maybe he wanted to break his bones, strip his tendons, and make him kneel before him like a dog.

Bai Cang knew many ways to torture people, ways far more terrifying and cruel… But he figured Qing Xun, with his limited experience, could only manage something like that.

As long as the boy could release his anger and achieve his goal, the method didn’t matter.

Time passed slowly.

The demon cultivators above, unable to find Bai Cang, finally left. The surroundings grew quiet.

Just as Bai Cang thought Qing Xun would finally make his move, the boy suddenly crawled out of the cave.

A quarter of an hour later, he returned, holding two moldy, foul-smelling buns.

The boy hesitated for a long time before nervously offering the buns to Bai Cang, whispering, “I only have this… I’m sorry… I’m so useless… I’m sorry…”

His dark eyes shimmered like those of a timid animal, cautiously offering up the food he had risked his life to find, yet still afraid it wouldn’t be to Bai Cang’s liking…

For the first time, Bai Cang felt a sense of absurdity.

Qing Xun hadn’t come to take revenge on him. He had come to save him.

Why?

This was the first time in Bai Cang’s life that he couldn’t understand something. He hadn’t even been this confused when Bai Zhou tried to kill him.

Why would Qing Xun want to save him?

Bai Cang had never treated him well. He had even sent him away in exchange for a Thousand-Year Blood Vine. Even after Qing Xun had struggled to return, Bai Cang had been cold and indifferent, leaving him to be abused and tormented…

Anyone would have hated him, wouldn’t they?

Why didn’t Qing Xun hate him?

Why would he risk his life to save him?

Seeing that Bai Cang wasn’t eating, the boy became even more anxious. Trembling, he started to pull the buns back.

Bai Cang stared at him, emotions swirling in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed the boy’s wrist and coldly said, “Is ‘I’m sorry’ all you can say?”

The boy, frightened by Bai Cang’s reprimand, shut his eyes tightly in shame. His slender wrist trembled in Bai Cang’s hand, looking utterly pitiful.

Bai Cang had never pitied anyone. He didn’t have the capacity for pity. People who pretended to be pitiful only did so to win sympathy, and if you fell for it, you would be the one to pay the price. They would deliver a fatal blow when you least expected it… Bai Cang had no time to discern who was genuinely pitiful and who was faking. He didn’t need the kind of naive sympathy that came from pity.

Yet in this moment, looking at the boy’s sad, frightened expression, Bai Cang felt a strange emotion stirring in his heart. It was like a thousand tiny needles, soft and delicate, piercing his hardened heart, rendering him unable to say anything crueler.

But he had never comforted anyone before. He didn’t know how to. In the end, the only words that came out were a few cold, awkward ones: “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

The boy looked at him in disbelief. His eyes lit up with a brightness Bai Cang had never seen before.

With a stiff expression, Bai Cang took the bun from the boy’s hand.

And slowly began to eat.

You have nothing to apologize for, because I can eat anything. You have no idea that I’ve eaten far filthier things in the past. These moldy buns are nothing.

I am not your god. I am no different from you—just a living corpse, controlled by fate.

Outside, the demon cultivators flew by now and then.

They hadn’t completely given up searching.

Inside the cramped cave, the boy tried his best to curl up into a ball, yet despite his efforts, he still accidentally touched Bai Cang’s body. This made the boy anxious and uneasy. Bai Cang wanted to say there was no need to be afraid, that it didn’t matter, but in the end, he said nothing.

Because it wasn’t necessary.

Though their deaths had been delayed for three days, the result would not change.

Only now, instead of just him, there was also a weak boy. When Qing Xun had summoned the courage to drag him into this hole, it meant he had chosen to share Bai Cang’s fate.

Life or death, they were in it together.

Life or death, huh…

Bai Cang let out a low laugh. In his entire life, even when he hadn’t yet lost his faith in people, he had never dared to hope that one day, someone would stand by him, sharing his fate.

He had always believed he would live alone and die alone. Yet here, at the end of his life, the person who had chosen to stay with him wasn’t someone strong or capable, but a boy—someone he had thought was useless and cowardly.

This time, it was Qing Xun who had chosen him.

There was no food.

No water.

Bai Cang’s condition worsened as the days passed. The interruption of his breakthrough had severely injured him, and his blood energy was in turmoil. He could feel life slipping away. Even if the demon cultivators didn’t find them, he wouldn’t last much longer.

If he could, he would send Qing Xun away, because dying with him was not worth it…

It served no purpose.

If one had to die, better that one lived.

But he was no longer strong enough to shield Qing Xun like he had in the past. It was the last thing he wanted to do before he died, but it was something he could never accomplish.

What’s the point?

I’m not worth saving.

Fool.

Bai Cang’s consciousness began to blur.

In his haze, he saw the boy inching closer.

The timid boy, who had always been afraid to approach him, seemed to have finally gathered the courage. He reached out and gently touched Bai Cang’s face, but quickly pulled his hand back as if shocked.

Bai Cang opened his eyes, looking at the boy before him.

Qing Xun’s eyes were filled with warmth, determination, and resolve. He wore a faint smile, a lightness that Bai Cang had never seen before, as if he was about to find peace…

Then, Bai Cang heard him say, “Master, use me.”

Bai Cang froze, instantly understanding the boy’s meaning. Qing Xun had realized that if things continued this way, they would both die. So, he wanted Bai Cang to absorb him, to use him as a supplement to restore his strength.

The boy leaned closer, his frail body radiating a faint warmth, like a flickering flame in the darkness, fragile yet representing their final hope… He looked at Bai Cang with such focus, his gaze bright and unwavering, even joyful, as if to say, “Master, see? I am useful after all.”

Bai Cang wanted to push the boy away, his expression icy and angry. He wanted to yell at him to leave!

If anyone had to die, it should be me.

But he was too weak. He was so weak that even the boy could easily hold him down. Qing Xun cupped his face, greedily and boldly pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

The last thing Bai Cang saw was those radiant, bright eyes—the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life.

…

Bai Cang’s consciousness slipped away, plunging into darkness. His demonic power, sensing the source of strength offered to it, instinctively absorbed it without restraint. By the time he awoke, the boy had already lost his life.

Qing Xun’s skin had shriveled, his eyes dull, reduced to little more than a skeleton wrapped in skin.

But there was no pain on his face.

It was as if he had accepted this fate gladly.

Bai Cang cradled the boy’s lifeless body, feeling the power coursing through him. The boy’s faint life force had been like a spark in the dark, offering him a chance to survive. He had once again lived.

But this time, he wished he hadn’t.

He didn’t understand what he was feeling.

It seemed ridiculous… but it was also painfully real.

So, someone in this world was willing to die for him, to give up everything for him. Someone who would never betray him, never hurt him. In this cold and heartless world, he was like the only light.

So, this world really did have such a thing as true loyalty.

So, there really was someone in this world that could be trusted.

For the first time in this desolate, endless night, Bai Cang saw a glimmer of starlight.

But just as he saw it.

It disappeared, like a shooting star, vanishing forever.

Author Note:

Bai Cang: I don’t understand why he saved me.
Qiao Xuan: I don’t understand why he loves me.
Author: That’s exactly how it should be.
Bai Cang & Qiao Xuan: ???