When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 1

In the endless darkness of Pojun Mountain.

This place was once an ancient battlefield where immortals and demons fought thousands of years ago, leaving behind countless dead souls. The lingering resentment was so intense that even the most enlightened monks of Tianqing Sect couldn’t fully purify it. Therefore, it often serves as a training ground for disciples from various immortal sects. Every time they train here, it is also a rare opportunity for the malicious spirits to feed.

But today is not a training day, and the usually quiet Pojun Mountain is unusually bustling—hundreds of malicious spirits and ghostly remnants are frantically fleeing within the dark mist, as if being chased by something extremely terrifying.

An old ghost floats to a charred, withered tree, grabbing a passing little ghost to ask.

The old ghost is quite respected on this particular hillside of Pojun Mountain, but at this moment, the little ghost only wants to escape as quickly as possible. However, with a pale, sharp claw gripping its neck, it has no choice but to answer truthfully, “…A fierce little demon has come to the mountain, devouring malicious spirits everywhere!”

“Which demonic cultivator dares to come to Pojun Mountain to steal food? He must have a death wish!” the old ghost scoffs.

The next training session is about to start, and it seems likely that the newcomer is one of those weak, low-level cultivators. To malicious spirits, the flesh and blood of cultivators are the best nourishment. Just thinking of the taste stirs the old ghost’s heart. In previous years, the most powerful cultivators who came to train were only at the Foundation Establishment stage, while it has been cultivating as an evil ghost for three thousand years.

The little ghost trembles even more. “But… he swallowed the Ghost King at the mountain peak in one gulp!”

The old ghost’s grey ghostly eyes tremble, and just then, a childish laugh carries on the cold wind from behind. Upon hearing it, the old ghost instantly flings the little ghost away and runs!

Yet, in an instant, the dim sky is silently swallowed by darkness. No one sees it clearly, but a thick black fog has already enveloped the entire mountain peak. In the blink of an eye, several stray malicious spirits, including the thousand-year-old ghost, are all gone!

The eerie black fog, like a plague of locusts, sweeps down the mountain after devouring all the malicious spirits, with the sound of wailing and lamentations echoing from the front.

At the peak of the mountain, which is supposed to be the Ghost King’s lair, a strikingly beautiful youth in white sits on a black stone, coldly gazing down at the hellish scene below. He seems to be a cultivator, his skin is exceedingly pale, and even in the darkness, it remains clear and pure. His long lashes are slightly lowered, half-concealing a pair of deep black eyes, his delicate and handsome face exuding indifference.

He is an extremely good-looking man, so beautiful it seems almost unnatural, yet his demeanor is as ethereal as an immortal’s.

A cold wind gently blows at the peak, lifting a strand of the youth’s long, dark hair.

His slender, fair fingers lightly tap in rhythm on the uneven rock, as if counting the time he has been waiting here.

Finally, when the black fog covers half of Pojun Mountain, a grayish-black mist wobbles out, like a drunken man, and clumsily floats in front of the youth, then—it lets out a long, satisfied burp.

Yun Zhuoran’s pitch-black eyes regain their clarity. “Finished eating?”

The large black fog pauses in the air, then spits out seven or eight weak little ghosts. The little ghosts, shocked that they have survived being swallowed, exchange bewildered glances before hastily fleeing as fast as they can, as if their tails are on fire. None dare to look back, unaware that the giant black fog has shrunk to the size of a fist.

After shrinking, the black fog, now much smaller but more agile, lightly circles around Yun Zhuoran. The heavy malicious energy has long since been withdrawn, and it now seems particularly joyous, though its tone is somewhat aggrieved when it speaks.

“A few pests always manages to slip in. They taste awful, ugh!” This black fog loves eating evil beings, especially malicious spirits, but it dislikes pure souls, complaining that they taste bad. It is quite picky. As it speaks, it notices Yun Zhuoran looking at it. Two patches of “red clouds” slowly appear on the black fog’s indistinct head, and it shyly adds, “I think I might have accidentally eaten a bit too much.”

Yun Zhuoran thinks to himself, More than just a little? You’ve practically devoured all the evil spirits on half the mountain.

Three days ago, Yun Zhuoran reached the Great Perfection of the Nascent Soul stage and was about to undergo his tribulation to ascend to the Out-of-Body Stage. The lightning tribulation for this breakthrough is incredibly powerful, so to avoid attracting too much attention, he deliberately went down the mountain in search of a remote peak. He successfully broke through to the Out-of-Body Stage, and it was at that moment, without warning, that the black mist appeared. It claimed to be Yun Zhuoran’s heart demon, initially even taking a humanoid form, resembling a miniature version of Yun Zhuoran.

The heart demon took the form of a child around five or six years old, a time of innocence and purity.

Yun Zhuoran doesn’t know how he manifests a heart demon, but he senses that the heart demon is indeed connected to him. However, this heart demon is quite different from others.

Bearing his childhood face and exuding a cold, sinister aura, the moment it sees Yun Zhuoran, its face flushes red, eyes sparkling as it flies toward him. Then it falls to the ground, looking at him with pitiful eyes, saying, “Oh no, little heart demon has fallen! Big brother has to kiss and hold me to help me up!”

Yun Zhuoran promptly throws it out.

Before long, the heart demon comes back, peeking into the cave from the entrance. It calls him “big brother,” not in complaint, but with its head tilted, childishly recommending itself in a baby voice—“Big brother, you’re so good-looking! Do you want to raise a little heart demon? I’m really cute!”

So, Yun Zhuoran throws the little thing out again and coldly refuses, “No raising, go away, don’t come back.”

At the time, he doesn’t realize how ferocious the heart demon’s appetite is.

The third time it comes in, the heart demon has given itself a name: Xiao Zhuo, using Zhuoran’s own “Zhuo.” It has also somehow found a storybook to bring back to Yun Zhuoran.

Yun Zhuoran keeps the storybook but tosses out the heart demon. This time, the heart demon whimpers pitifully at the door for a long time until Yun Zhuoran, holding the book, picks it up again.

But before Yun Zhuoran can take another good look at the little creature, the heart demon, starving, transforms into a sesame ball with a tail, looking extremely weak.

Yun Zhuoran is a disciple of the immortal path, and his sect is a place of purity. How can he raise a heart demon, let alone let others know about its existence? It is also inconvenient to go out and catch evil spirits to feed it, so he brings it a thousand miles away to Pojun Mountain.

And once it starts eating, it doesn’t stop for three days.

It even devours the Ghost King of Pojun Mountain.

Unexpectedly, after finishing off the Ghost King, the little thing still isn’t satisfied and starts eating its way down the mountain.

Yun Zhuoran has been sitting on the side, reading the storybook, observing for three days. From his initial shock to a sense of numbness, watching the heart demon gleefully chasing and devouring evil spirits, he even starts to feel like he is out walking a dog.

“Big brother!” A sweet, childish voice calls from the small black mist as it circles Yun Zhuoran. It seems full of energy now that it is well-fed. “Big brother, have you finished reading the storybook?”

Yun Zhuoran’s fingers stiffen almost imperceptibly. With a flip of his hand, the storybook the heart demon gave him appears. The book, titled The Emotionless Daoist, tells the passionate and entangled love story between the protagonist and his three intimate male companions. In the story, the protagonist once has a Dao companion—named Yun Zhuoran.

Not only does this person share Yun Zhuoran’s name, but his background and experiences are almost identical.

And, to Yun Zhuoran’s surprise, the protagonist of the story is none other than his real-life senior brother, Shen Lingshu.

In the book, Yun Zhuoran and his honorable, jade-like senior brother Shen form a Daoist bond. The story opens with Yun Zhuoran falling into the demonic path, intent on exterminating the entire Tian Dao Sect, leaving his senior brother no choice but to kill him with one sword for the sake of righteous justice.

Once the foolish, venomous original partner Yun Zhuoran dies, Shen Lingshu breaks through his emotional tribulation, truly achieving his path of the emotionless Dao. The death of his Dao companion increases his cultivation, and after getting rid of Yun Zhuoran as an obstacle, his path becomes smooth. He gathers his favorite male companions, including his young disciple and the demonic palace’s young master, into his rear courtyard, and finally ascends to attain immortality.

Yun Zhuoran is puzzled. What kind of twisted and evil path requires the death of a Dao companion to achieve it?

The heart demon, dragging its small gray tail, floats over to the storybook and looks up at Yun Zhuoran.

“Big brother, this book is a reward from the Heavenly Dao just for you! Everything written in it is true.”

The heart demon had said the same thing when it picked up the storybook, claiming it was a reward from the Heavenly Dao for successfully passing the tribulation.

Yun Zhuoran simply responds, “Mm.”

The heart demon is a bit dissatisfied with being brushed off. It floats onto Yun Zhuoran’s shoulder, wanting to say more, but just then, a paper crane cuts through the thick black fog on the mountain. The paper shimmers with golden runes, and the heart demon floats forward, but Yun Zhuoran stops it midway. Although the heart demon has the strength to devour a Ghost King in one gulp, it is, after all, born from Yun Zhuoran, who can control it. As long as the heart demon harbors no rebellious thoughts, Yun Zhuoran only needs a single thought to immobilize it. Now, it is frozen on his shoulder, unable to move even if it wants to.

With the heart demon restrained, Yun Zhuoran lightly taps the paper crane, and a voice emerges from it—

“Junior Brother Yun, you’ve finished your seclusion. Have you formed your golden core? Why aren’t you on the mountain? Where did you go? Senior Brother Shen is very worried about you. Please come back soon!”

It is a voice transmission from a senior brother Yun Zhuoran is close to.

But the moment the little black cloud hears the name “Senior Brother Shen,” it becomes agitated. “He’s here! He’s here! Big brother, Shen Lingshu is coming to deceive you and steal your body!” it proclaims, with solid reasoning, “The book says, ‘After Yun Zhuoran comes out of seclusion, he forms a Dao bond with Senior Brother Shen Lingshu. But Shen Lingshu doesn’t love him at all, and Yun Zhuoran never expects that he will ultimately die by Shen Lingshu’s sword!’”

The little black cloud lunges toward Yun Zhuoran’s neck, its soft little tail coiling around it. Its round head presses against the corner of Yun Zhuoran’s lips, and it whines, “Big brother, you’re so pretty, don’t let those bad people take advantage of you.”

With a blank expression, Yun Zhuoran peels the heart demon away just as it is about to nuzzle his lips. The one-foot-long heart demon droops pitifully, its tiny, almost invisible claws still clinging to Yun Zhuoran’s hand.

“Big brother,” the heart demon nudges its small head against the back of Yun Zhuoran’s hand in a fawning manner.

Yun Zhuoran looks at it, deep in thought. “Mm.”

The heart demon seizes the opportunity and says, “Big brother, can you not go back? Stay here and play with Xiao Zhuo.”

Yun Zhuoran, as if not hearing this, continues, “The Tian Dao Sect is a reputable and righteous sect. Once we return, you mustn’t cause any more trouble. If the elders discover you, I’ll likely be expelled from the sect.”

A wave of hostile energy leaks out from the heart demon, its entire black cloud exuding resistance. Compared to the spiritually abundant Tian Dao Sect, it clearly prefers Pojun Mountain.

“Let’s go,” Yun Zhuoran says, ignoring the heart demon’s reluctance. He places the soft, cloud-like heart demon back on his shoulder and looks toward the faint sliver of light on the edge of the dark horizon. Suddenly, he says, “You should have a proper name.”

The heart demon lies on Yun Zhuoran’s shoulder, grumbling in a soft voice, “My name is Xiao Zhuo! Big brother is so mean, always forgetting my name. We are the closest, yet you trust that Shen guy but not me! I’m mad now!”

Despite its words, the heart demon quietly buries itself into Yun Zhuoran’s snow-white neck. Its little tail wraps around him, transforming into a pitch-black scarf, as if afraid it might really upset Yun Zhuoran and be thrown away again.

The neck is one of the vital points, so Yun Zhuoran pauses for a moment, his eyes flashing with a deep, meaningful look. He summons a bit of spiritual light, gently running it across his fingertip, squeezing out a bead of crimson blood.

The little black cloud immediately perks up.

For the heart demon, this essence blood is the most delectable thing in the world, an irresistible temptation.

Yun Zhuoran raises his hand in an enticing gesture, causing the little black cloud to dart down, wrapping around his wrist and clinging to his index finger, greedily sucking at the blood. Yun Zhuoran looks down, a slight smile appearing in his eyes.

“From today onward, your name will be Yun Weiran.”

“Hm?”

The heart demon, startled by the name, immediately loosens its hair-thin claws from Yun Zhuoran’s hand, trying to pull away quickly. However, the drop of blood on Yun Zhuoran’s fingertip suddenly glows with a golden-red light, instantly enveloping the heart demon’s entire body, as though branding it. When the light fades, the heart demon clings to Yun Zhuoran’s finger in a daze, realizing it has been tricked into being bound by a blood pact due to its greed. It can’t help but wail in distress.

“I don’t want to have a different name from big brother!”

This time, Yun Zhuoran can’t help but smile. He rubs the heart demon’s soft little head with his fingertip, and his normally cold eyes soften with a rare glimmer of tenderness.

“If you use this name, I might consider keeping you.”

The heart demon’s crying stops immediately. “Really?”

Yun Zhuoran doesn’t give a clear response. He finds it difficult to accept something as uncontrollable as a heart demon, but keeping it under his watch is the safest option.

The heart demon seems to have thought of something, and its claws suddenly tighten around Yun Zhuoran’s finger, its tone turning cheerful once again. “Then big brother can call me whatever he likes! I’m easy to take care of!”

So stupid, and so easy to appease.

Yun Zhuoran’s gaze briefly pauses before he places the heart demon back onto his left shoulder. “Let’s go.”

As a cultivator in the Nascent Soul stage, Yun Zhuoran can travel vast distances in just a few steps. After two strides, he has already left the dark, menacing Pojun Mountain, where the sky is blotted out by malevolent energy. Sunlight breaks through, and by the third step, he stands before the towering gates of the Tian Dao Sect.

Yun Zhuoran stops, his snow-white robes swirling gently, blooming like a water-red honeysuckle in motion. He lifts a finger and lightly taps the heart demon, causing a burst of golden-red light to appear and quickly disappear, forming a barrier that completely conceals the heart demon’s evil aura. The heart demon wriggles slightly, clearly intrigued by the golden-red barrier encasing it.

In the next moment, Yun Zhuoran’s cultivation drops from the Nascent Soul stage to the early Core Formation stage.

The vase of Tian Dao Sect should have this level of cultivation.