Chapter Eighty-One: Actually, I’m Quite Beautiful Too

I was in the midst of bandaging his wound when I heard his words. Displeased, I paused and looked at him. “A thousand years of cultivation? What of it? To me, it is nothing of consequence.”

If I truly cared so much for a thousand years of cultivation, then why, when I was told atop the Bodhi Platform that removing a single golden scale from my body would conceal my demonic aura, did I not hesitate for even a moment? I stripped away a thousand years of cultivation from myself without a second thought.

I said to him, “So what if you are a Blood Ganoderma? I am neither a monstrous fiend that devours people, nor a bloodthirsty demon, and certainly not one of those crazed mortals who dream day and night of becoming immortal. How could I ever bring myself to eat a child like you?”

Is my appearance truly so terrifying? In the demon realm, the demons feared me. Now, among mortals, even these little spirits are frightened of me.

Though I am of demon kind, from childhood till now, I have never harbored murderous intent toward anyone. And now, before this adorable child, how could I possibly bear to harm him?

Gurgle, gurgle...

Gurgle, gurgle...

The sound echoed once more. In the darkness enveloping the forest, it no longer struck me as amusing; instead, it seemed unbearably bleak.

“But, brother…” His eyes flashed with a trace of surprise as he looked at me and whispered timidly, “The mortals and the spirits say that eating me can grant a thousand years of cultivation. You are also a cultivator, brother. If you ate me, perhaps it would help you gain more cultivation and become immortal sooner.”

“Eat, eat, eat—eat what?” I replied, exasperated. “Isn’t it wonderful simply to live well in this world? Why do you keep saying the same three words—‘eat me, eat me’? How could I possibly harm a child as adorable as you?”

Even now, as he transformed into the form of the Blood Ganoderma and leapt and darted before me, I could never bring myself to eat him even if I caught him. I ought to take him back and let Zilian use him instead.

“All right, all right,” I said as I gently finished bandaging his wound. Then, with concern, I asked, “Where is your home? Let me take you back.”

I reached out to help him to his feet, surprised to find that he only came up to my chest. His small frame was clothed in green silk, and his long hair cascaded like a waterfall, spilling all the way to his toes.

I regarded him for a long moment, still unable to discern whether he was a boy or a girl. Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “So, are you a boy or a girl?”

His brows arched gracefully, more lush and thick than those of most girls; his bright, clear eyes shimmered like a sunlit lake, making one’s heart ache with tenderness. A few crystal beads of sweat clung to his slightly prominent nose.

At my question, his face flushed crimson. He bit his lip and whispered, “A… a boy. I’m a boy.”

“A boy? You’re really very good-looking,” I praised him sincerely.

“Um…” He fidgeted for a while, then murmured shyly, “Brother, you’re very beautiful too.”

“Truly?” His words delighted me. Unable to help myself, I reached up to smooth my hair and touch my face, smiling as I asked, “Am I really beautiful? Do you mean it?”

“Yes!” He gazed at me intently, his cheeks growing even redder.

I couldn’t help but reach out and pinch his soft little cheeks—so smooth and pleasant to the touch. Suddenly, I remembered what Zilian had instructed me before I came here.

He had said the Blood Ganoderma was needed to heal his old wounds, and asked me to find it on this mountain and bring it back. But now, looking at this shy little boy who barely reached my chest, I hesitated. Zilian’s wounds must be treated, of course. But as for this child, I could not bear to make him into medicine.

How could I, in good conscience, do such a thing?