Ning Buwei finally collapsed exhaustedly on top of Chu Jun, hanging his head motionlessly.
Chu Jun methodically helped him sort out his somewhat chaotic and slightly agitated spiritual power.
Ning Buwei was too lazy to respond to him and continued hanging his head in silence.
Chu Jun reached out and gently pinched his neck, saying softly, “Did you remember everything?”
Ning Buwei changed the direction his head was hanging and lazily swatted away his hand.
Chu Jun sighed helplessly and continued patiently sorting out his spiritual power.
Ning Buwei slept peacefully on his divine consciousness, clinging to Chu Jun like an octopus.
“Chengfeng,” Chu Jun called him.
Ning Buwei frowned without opening his eyes, and his face was gently cupped and pinched, “Chengfeng, they’ve all returned.”
Ning Buwei reluctantly opened his eyes and bit down on his palm, grinding his teeth hard.
Chu Jun smiled, “Did you learn that from Ning Xiu?”
Ning Buwei glared at him, released his mouth, and simply returned to his body gracefully.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Ning Xiu holding onto the bed railing to stand up. The little one was wearing creamy yellow clothes and walked unsteadily towards him and Chu Jun.
Ning Xiu tottered two steps, then stumbled. Ning Buwei and Chu Jun both reached out a hand simultaneously to steady him.
Supported by a hand on each side, Ning Xiu lifted his little head and called out sweetly to both of them. “Di~Di~”
(TL: original “爹~爹~” (爹爹=father/dad)
Ning Buwei and Chu Jun both froze in place.
“Da!” Ning Xiu grinned at them both.
Chu Jun recovered first and patted Ning Xiu’s little head, “Mm, say it again.”
Ning Xiu jumped happily, though he didn’t get very far off the ground, then called out to Chu Jun. “Da~”
Chu Jun reached out and pinched his cheek.
Ning Xiu proudly puffed up his little belly and patted the still-stunned Ning Buwei.
Ning Buwei immediately picked him up, “Son, call again.”
“Da~” Ning Xiu called out in his sweet voice.
Ning Buwei turned to ask Chu Jun, “Did he just call me father?”
Chu Jun nodded.
Ning Buwei lifted Ning Xiu up and gave him a big kiss, then belatedly turned to glare sinisterly at Chu Jun, “My son called me father, why did you respond?”
Chu Jun wore an innocent and puzzled expression, “Hmm? Wasn’t he calling me father?”
Ning Buwei said proudly, “I’ve taught him to call you mother since he was little, how could he be calling you?”
“Oh, so you were the one who taught him.” Chu Jun smiled slightly.
Ning Buwei choked, and along with his previous irritation from their shenjiao, he narrowed his eyes at Chu Jun.
Just then, Feng Zizhang and the other older ones came in. Ning Buwei handed Ning Xiu to Feng Zizhang and pointed at Chu Jun, saying, “Come, you come out.”
Feng Zizhang, Jiang Yizheng and the others were startled by Ning Buwei’s very unfriendly expression, thinking the two had a conflict. They were about to speak up when they saw Chu Jun brush his sleeves and follow Ning Buwei out with serene indifference.
Cui Yuanbai eagerly pressed against the window to look outside, “Are Dad and Father going to fight?”
Ying Lingzhu looked worried, “Aren’t they Dao companions? Why would they fight?”
Jiang Yizheng pushed aside Big Yellow who was watching the excitement, “What should we do? Can Father beat the Venerable?”
Feng Zizhang looked serious, “Though Father’s cultivation isn’t as high, his techniques are peculiar, it’s hard to say.”
The little black dragon coiled on Big Yellow’s head also eagerly swished its tail, “Ying~”
Fight! Fight!
Except for when they had faced off during their earlier “borrowing” of spiritual power in Chu Jun’s sea of consciousness, Ning Buwei had yet to properly face Chu Jun in a serious fight.
Five hundred years after their reunion, Chu Jun had changed a lot compared to before. In Ning Buwei’s view, although he knew this surname Chu had high cultivation and deep schemes and wasn’t someone to be trifled with, perhaps because he had practiced the Path of Tranquility for so long, ignoring that cold exterior, Chu Jun always appeared gentle in temperament and easy to bully.
He would avoid conflicts with others when possible, didn’t mind taking roundabout approaches even if troublesome, and even when forced to fight he moved slowly and deliberately, looking really unthreatening. Compared to those powerful cultivators who could move mountains and fill seas or take lives in an instant, he truly wasn’t very impressive.
The only time he seemed to truly fight was on Dao Discussion Mountain, but Chu Jun was going through his heart demon tribulation then. Although he made quite a show against Ning Fan in the Seven Killings Formation, even faking his death, when Ning Buwei carefully recalled later, he felt Chu Jun hadn’t used his full power.
The vague feeling he’d had since Chu Jun appeared finally became clear – although Chu Jun had been following him, from beginning to end he maintained a kind of detached aloofness.
He never interfered too much in his affairs, occasionally giving subtle reminders, and then sometimes things would mysteriously resolve themselves.
This was also why fights hadn’t been satisfying since Chu Jun appeared.
Moreover, all his threats and schemes, when meeting Chu Jun, were like hitting a cotton ball – they were lightly dissolved, unable to exert any force.
Ning Buwei looked at the calm and peaceful Chu Jun opposite him, his hand now holding a Suzaku knife, then quite provocatively raised his chin at him.
Setting aside everything else, he still very much wanted to spar with a powerful cultivator like Chu Jun. Even if he only gained the slightest insight, it would be tremendously beneficial.
Chu Jun kept one hand behind his back and extended the other toward him.
This kind of slightly arrogant ‘I’ll give you one hand’ provocation coming from Chu Jun made Ning Buwei feel an especially strong desire – to defeat him, to render him powerless to fight back, to make those beautiful cold eyes turn red… to look only at him.
Tch.
The smile on Ning Buwei’s face grew brighter as he charged at Chu Jun with his knife, its tip aimed straight at his heart. Before the Taiji Seal had fully materialized in Chu Jun’s palm, Ning Buwei’s figure had already appeared behind him, the cold gleaming blade pressed against his neck. Chu Jun dodged by tilting his body, and Ning Buwei flipped his wrist, suddenly turning the knife tip to slice open Chu Jun’s collar.
The white neck and collarbone flashed briefly before his eyes before being covered up again. Then warmth spread at his waist as the Taiji Seal was about to seal his dantian. Ning Buwei used his narrow knife to spring off the ground, twisting and flipping his body. The Suzaku knife clashed with the Taiji Seal, releasing a dazzling white light.
Ning Buwei had to rapidly retreat dozens of zhang before he could barely stop. Through the flying dust, he looked up to see Chu Jun still standing in place with his hand behind his back, his snow-white clothes not even fluttering.
The interest in Ning Buwei’s eyes grew stronger. His fingers quickly formed seals, and hundreds of talisman papers shrouded in black mist surged toward Chu Jun from all directions.
The palm-sized Taiji Seal floating in front of Chu Jun instantly split into hundreds, blocking all the black talismans outside. Then he waved his sleeve, and crimson spiritual power collided with the Suzaku knife. The ground where he stood suddenly sank, the surface compressed by powerful air currents, spider web-like cracks rapidly spreading outward.
Then the white hem of his clothes was violently lifted by the fierce wind, revealing the straight and slender legs beneath. The thin fabric clung to his legs as an aggressive black spiritual power coiled up his legs, shooting straight for his dantian.
Chu Jun formed a seal with one hand, trapping that malicious black spiritual power in his palm. Who knew that energy would be like a crafty snake, coiling around his wrist and taking the chance to slip into his sleeve, clinging to his inner clothes and striking straight for the fatal point at his heart.
Chu Jun’s gaze sharpened and he finally moved his feet to retreat, but unknown to him, a formation had been laid beneath his feet. His attempt to break the formation somehow failed, trapping him in place.
Ning Buwei stood not far away and hooked the corner of his mouth at him, a flash of crimson passing through his eyes.
Chu Jun finally personally experienced why others always said Ning Buwei was very difficult to deal with. Each move landed in places ordinary cultivators wouldn’t expect, and every strike was fatal, never leaving the opponent room to retreat. Like a snake hunting prey, once the prey was entangled there would be no rest until death.
This formation looked familiar. Chu Jun thought briefly before remembering it was the Seven Killings Formation he had encountered before on the Dao Discussion Mountain. This formation seemed to have been merged with something else by Ning Buwei, its power multiplied. Even Chu Jun had to take it seriously.
The Taiji Seal suddenly expanded, suppressing the Seven Killings Soul-Devouring Formation, then the Chiyuan Sword emerged. Its crimson blade clashed with the Suzaku’s black blade, creating a teeth-grinding collision sound. Spiritual power sparks exploded in mid-air, the powerful air currents pushing even the distant flying ship back several zhang.
Ning Buwei held his knife with both hands while Chu Jun wielded his sword with one. Neither would yield within the Seven Killings Formation, knife and sword entangled inseparably. Besides their life-bound weapons, neither used other magical treasures, only spiritual power and formations, and their excitement only grew as they fought.
Chu Jun was very interested in Ning Buwei’s formations, while Ning Buwei coveted his Taiji Seal and spiritual power control. Both tried to gain the upper hand in the other’s specialty, completely losing track of time.
Finally, Ning Buwei was defeated by a single move due to consuming too much spiritual power on formations.
The Suzaku knife shattered and automatically returned to his storage ring. Ning Buwei covered his faintly aching dantian, slightly panting as he regulated his breath, narrowing his eyes to look at Chu Jun standing in the morning light.
Though nothing showed on Chu Jun’s face, his slightly disordered breathing betrayed him. But from start to finish, Ning Buwei hadn’t forced him to use the hand behind his back.
Chu Jun walked over and grasped his wrist. The crimson spiritual power that had been fighting him to the death now gently and patiently circulated through his meridians helping him regulate his breath, even thoughtfully covering his dantian to help nurture his qi.
Ning Buwei raised an eyebrow and teased, “Does the Venerable Jinghe help heal everyone after fighting them?”
Chu Jun allowed the black spiritual power to arrogantly coil around his wrists and ankles. When that energy tried to slip into his clothes, he gave Ning Buwei a bland look, “Ning Chengfeng.”
Ning Buwei seemed certain that Chu Jun couldn’t do anything to him. The spiritual power tyrannically coiled around his waist and moved upward, as if embracing him from behind, making his spotless white clothes messy and dark before finally venting some anger.
Chu Jun allowed the black spiritual power to coil around his back, surging aggressively toward his chest. After thinking, he said seriously, “You were injured too severely before, you can’t keep consuming spiritual power. Being able to last this long was already very good.”
Though Ning Buwei’s face didn’t show it, the spiritual power coiled around Chu Jun’s shoulders loosened slightly, moving away from his heart.
Chu Jun said, “Moreover, your Suzaku knife hasn’t been fully repaired. If the Suzaku knife were complete, I might not have been able to use just one hand.”
Ning Buwei raised an eyebrow, and the energy coiling around him loosened some more but didn’t completely release, threatening by tapping his heart.
Chu Jun sighed somewhat unwillingly, “Fine, Ning Xiu was calling you father earlier.”
Only then was Ning Buwei satisfied, nodding. The black spiritual power coiling around him returned to his dantian, but not before taking advantage one last time. He put his hands behind his back, rubbing his fingers as if savoring the moment, then strode toward the flying ship.
Chu Jun watched his carefree and delighted figure, reached out to pluck the foxtail grass pinned to his front collar, and smiled helplessly.
Was he so angry he wouldn’t even send a flower?
