When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 156

“Is he Gu Shenshu?” Penglai Immortal looked slightly startled. “When I met Pei Heng and the others in the underground palace earlier, they said they’d found a remnant soul resembling Gu Shenshu—sealed beneath the crypt…”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

Seeing their expressions, Penglai Immortal gave a helpless smile. “We were short on time and didn’t have the chance to report it. Pei Heng and the others didn’t dare act rashly, so I meant to tell you after subduing Yun Duo.” His gaze lifted to the immense face upon the statue. “I simply didn’t expect him to appear now.”

Yun Zhuoran froze, his voice rough. “He’s trapped in the underground palace?”

The heart demon tightened his grip on Yun Zhuoran’s hand.

Penglai Immortal was about to nod when Lu Yu suddenly interrupted. “The golden light—it’s fading!”

The statue’s radiance dimmed. Gu Shenshu’s face slowly dissolved into shadow. 

Silence returned to the ruined temple. The defeated Yun Duo had already been taken away by Shen Lingshu.

Having fought so hard to bring her down, the others were unwilling to let her go. Seeing that the statue no longer posed a threat, Lu Yu stepped out of the barrier in frustration. “I’ll go after her!”

“No need,” Yun Zhuoran said evenly.

The others looked at him in confusion, but he kept his eyes on the towering statue, expression unreadable. “Yun Duo’s spirit has been burned by the Taiyin True Fire. It’s collapsing—she’s finished. Even if that deity intervenes, he can’t save her. If we pursue now, we’ll only lose the chance to face the deity himself.”

The heart demon asked quietly, “Then what do we do?”

Yun Zhuoran’s calm left Lu Yu and Penglai Immortal silent. When they saw Wen Jianxian pale with exhaustion—and the strange tension in Yun Zhuoran’s eyes when Gu Shenshu appeared—they hesitated. They had exhausted their strength just defeating Yun Duo, and the deity’s power was clearly beyond comprehension. Even if they chased now, what could they accomplish?

After a long pause, Penglai Immortal asked carefully, “Then… should we descend to the underground palace first, to confirm whether Gu Shenshu is still there?”

Yun Zhuoran nodded faintly. “Weiran and I will go.” He quickly regained his composure, turned to Wen Jianxian, and bowed. “Thank you, Sect Master Wen, for your aid.”

Having seen Yun Zhuoran’s true strength, Wen Jianxian no longer treated him as a junior. He returned the bow. “Young Island Master, you’re too courteous. The Saintess of Fengtian Palace committed grievous sins; she was a target of the Sword Sect as well. Wu City is still in chaos. My two disciples likely went with Great Wuzhu Xu to help. I’ll take my leave.”

Yun Zhuoran didn’t stop him. More than a hundred demonized Wu Clan children had escaped into the city; the disaster Yun Duo left behind still raged. Not all Wu people had joined her crimes—many were innocent.

He turned to Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu.

Penglai Immortal immediately understood. Before Yun Zhuoran could speak, he said quickly, “I’ll go down with you. Let Lu Yu assist Sect Master Wen.”

Lu Yu blinked.

Penglai Immortal nodded decisively. “Go!” He spun Lu Yu around and shoved him toward Wen Jianxian. With Wu City in peril, Lu Yu had no choice but to go. Penglai Immortal then smiled at Yun Zhuoran and Weiran. “Shall we?”

Yun Zhuoran sighed softly. “Let’s go.”

Penglai Immortal led the way. 

Following Pei Heng’s directions, they descended into the underground palace. At the great hall’s end, he pushed open the door—and stopped short.

On the altar, wrapped in holy radiance, a remnant soul hung bound in chains.

No one knew Gu Shenshu better than Yun Zhuoran. He recognized him instantly—the former Sect Master of Tiandao Sect, once noble and serene, now a drowsy spirit imprisoned on a small altar, eyes closed, his luminous soul fettered by divine restraints.

“It’s him,” Yun Zhuoran said quietly.

Penglai Immortal and Weiran both turned to him, catching the faint sheen in his eyes. 

Yun Zhuoran laughed softly and lowered his head. “Gu Shenshu truly has a stubborn fate.”

The heart demon placed a hand over his. “Brother.”

Yun Zhuoran shook his head, smiling faintly. “I told you—they wouldn’t be gone for long.”

A sword streaked through the gray sky, landing on a cliff hundreds of li from Wu City.

Shen Lingshu set Yun Duo down. She trembled violently, her soul aflame, but he stood silent, offering no help.

“You saved me… for what? I don’t need your pity.”

Yun Duo forced herself upright, forcing a scornful smile. “If you meant to save me, why not sooner? Shen Lingshu, aren’t you the righteous one who avoids involvement? I’m dying—why save me now?” Her voice quavered, close to tears. Lowering her head, she drew sharp breaths to steady herself. Her red-rimmed eyes glistened.

Shen Lingshu’s tone was calm. “Haven’t you always wanted to live?”

Yun Duo stared blankly. Realizing he was answering her honestly, she gave a bitter laugh. “It’s not that I want to live… I just wanted to see him again.”

The wind howled across the cliff, tearing through the dark clouds to reveal a single ray of setting sun. Dusk bled into the horizon.

Yun Duo lowered her head, breathing heavily. Her hands clawed at the gravel until they bled. She lifted her gaze toward the faint light, raising one bloodied hand to grasp the sun’s warmth, trying to ease the burning pain of the Taiyin True Fire within her.

“Do you know… Yun Weiran—your Junior Brother Yun Zhuoran—before he was even born, Brother Peiran… he was truly, truly good to me…” Yun Duo stared blankly at the sunlight slipping through her fingers and laughed hoarsely. “Back then, Brother Peiran only had me by his side. We were close in age, grew up together from childhood—sweethearts, innocent and carefree. In those days, it was just the two of us. That was the happiest time of my life.”

Some people become talkative before death. Shen Lingshu watched Yun Duo’s spiritual power and soul slowly dissipate and, in the end, did not interrupt her.

A look of nostalgia suddenly appeared on Yun Duo’s face. “Before I even knew of Yun Zhuoran’s existence, I already began to hate him. I couldn’t control my jealousy and resentment… Before he was born, he took away all of my foster father’s and foster mother’s attention. Even Brother Peiran looked forward to his arrival. His existence meant that I would be ignored by everyone. After all, I was only an adopted daughter of the Yun family, wasn’t I?” At this point, she smiled again, almost contentedly. “Only Brother Peiran continued to treat me well as always. Even when he knew I didn’t like Yun Zhuoran at all, he never forced me. He just told me not to push myself, that he wouldn’t blame me for it. But then…”

Yun Duo’s smile turned bitter as she sobbed, “I actually knew it! Brother Peiran said the same thing to Yun Zhuoran. He said, It doesn’t matter if elder sister doesn’t like you—your brother will also give you the share of care that belongs to her. Do you know? I was truly envious of Yun Zhuoran. I was also truly jealous of Yun Zhuoran!”

She suppressed her disheveled sobbing, took a deep breath to steady herself, then lowered her head and touched the scar on her cheek. “This scar—back then, when I abandoned Yun Zhuoran and tricked Brother Peiran into leaving the city with me, he injured me. He was really angry. He actually drew his sword on me. He had clearly said long ago that he would always protect me…”

Her voice trembled. “But that night, Brother Peiran severed all ties with me. He said he never wanted to see me again. I thought it was only momentary anger. Who would have thought his words would become reality? All these years, I never saw Brother Peiran again. The god of Fengtian Temple clearly said I could wait for Brother Peiran! I did so many things that made him hate me, I even attacked Yun Zhuoran again, yet now I’m about to die—does he still refuse to see me?”

After saying so much, Yun Duo seemed to have exhausted all her strength and nearly collapsed to the ground again.

“You’re pitiful,” Shen Lingshu said coolly—a statement, not sympathy.

Yun Duo gave a hollow laugh, then covered her face and wept. “He lied to me! I was blind. He said Brother Peiran had come already!”

Shen Lingshu was unsure which ‘he’ she meant, but he understood her grief.

Her sobs weakened. When he thought she’d died, her hoarse voice returned. “Why not let me die by Yun Zhuoran’s hand? Why save me…”

He paused.“Who knows. Maybe I was bored.”

“Annoying,” she whispered. “You pretend at cruelty yet always waver. You chose Fengtian Temple, yet can’t let go of Yun Zhuoran. You’ll never please anyone—and you’ll never be happy.”

Shen Lingshu’s brow furrowed even more deeply.

After resting for a moment, Yun Duo wiped away her tears and struggled to her feet, staggering toward the cliff.

Seeing this, Shen Lingshu took a step after her.

She did not look back. Her frail body swayed in the wind, the sunset washing her face in gold. “Actually,” she murmured, “I know everything. Yun Zhuoran wasn’t wrong. Brother Peiran wasn’t wrong. The one at fault was me—too greedy, too deluded. If there’s another life…” Her voice faltered; the Taiyin True Fire had nearly consumed her soul. “I’d like to see Brother Peiran again—but…don’t meet me in your next life.”

Shen Lingshu rushed forward in shock, watching her purple-clad figure grow smaller and smaller. He instinctively reached out, but the spiritual power in his hand quickly dissipated.

Yun Duo’s soul was already on the verge of collapse, about to disperse completely. She would have no next life. No one could save her. Shen Lingshu himself knew he couldn’t save her either—but who could have known that, at the end of her life, she would choose to end it herself?

Still, her final choice stunned him.

He stood frozen, her last words echoing in his mind. 

Was she pitiable? Perhaps. But more than that, she was hateful. And yet, watching her fall left a dull ache in his chest.

A long, mournful sigh drifted through the air. “What a pity.”

The voice was neither male nor female, echoing from everywhere at once—the deity of Fengtian Temple.

Shen Lingshu stiffened, eyes darting across the empty cliff. He gripped his sword tightly and shouted, “Aren’t you going to save Yun Duo? Wasn’t she your believer—your Saintess?”

The serene voice replied, “I tried. But one whose heart is already dead cannot be saved.”

Cold sweat beaded down Shen Lingshu’s back. Perhaps Yun Duo’s death had shaken him more than he realized. The voice’s calm detachment only deepened his unease.

“My master is still alive,” he said suddenly, conviction steadying his tone. He had seen it with his own eyes when he took Yun Duo away.

The voice answered, unhurried, “The owner of the immortal bone within you still has a chance at resurrection.”

Shen Lingshu fell silent. 

Sensing his turmoil, the voice sighed again. “I’ve done as you wished—saved Yun Duo. Now, come to me, Shen Lingshu.”

Meanwhile, Yun Zhuoran and his companions emerged from the underground palace, following trails of blood and broken corpses. They soon reached a corner of Wu City, where Xu Zhichun and others had gathered. A heavy silence hung over the crowd.

Pushing through, they reached the front—and saw the bodies.

The corpses of the demonized Wu Clan children were heaped together. Among them lay many adults—Yan Changtian, Lan Ge, Yan Que, and others who had followed Yun Duo’s madness. Xu Zhichun knelt before them, head bowed, while Wen Jianxian, Lu Yu, and the rest stood behind.

Yun Zhuoran, Weiran, and Penglai Immortal approached.

Yun Shaowei stepped forward and said quietly, “After escaping the temple, those children attacked indiscriminately. No one could stop them. Some Wu clansmen used themselves as bait, gathering everyone here. Clan Leader Yan set a formation that wouldn’t dissolve until none remained alive. By the time we found them… it was already too late.” He sighed softly, lowering his head.

Yun Zhuoran and the others fell silent. 

Judging from the small mound of nearly two hundred corpses before them, they could imagine the horror within the formation. The cursed children had attacked without reason or restraint. Lan Ge and the others were torn apart mid-battle. Yan Changtian, pierced through the chest by his own son, had used his final breath to hold the child tightly and end both their lives.

When the formation finally dissolved, only carnage remained. Every Wu Clan child under ten—and every clan leader—had perished.

“I thought I could save them… but I didn’t expect this…” Xu Zhichun’s voice cracked, his bloodshot eyes gleaming faintly under the dim light.

The others bowed their heads in heavy silence.

“It’s my fault.” Xu Zhichun trembled, his back bent under invisible weight. “I brought the Fengtian Temple to the Wu Clan. I followed the so-called gods of Fengtian Temple and led them here myself. If I hadn’t returned then… none of this would have happened. It’s all my fault.” His voice grew quieter. As he spoke, a flash of silver appeared in his hand—he had drawn a dagger, the cold glint betraying his intent. “All the sins are mine. Let me end it all…”

Yun Zhuoran froze. He had heard those same words before—years ago, when Xu Zhichun had spoken them with the same calm despair. But this time, he saw that the man meant it.

A flicker of light flashed before anyone could move.

Not good!

Yun Zhuoran’s eyes widened—but someone was faster. 

A sword flashed from its sheath, cutting through the air with a sharp clang. The dagger flew from Xu Zhichun’s grasp, embedding itself deep into the bluestone floor. Blood splattered across the ground, rippling into a crimson pool beneath him.

Gasps broke out as Li Jianming and Meng Ye rushed forward.

“Godfather! What are you doing?”

The sight of Xu Zhichun, his robes soaked red, sent the Wu clansmen into chaos. A healer darted forward to tend to him, while Wen Jianxian, his sword still trembling faintly from the strike, exhaled. 

Yun Zhuoran caught his gaze and nodded—wordless acknowledgment of what could have been.

Xu Zhichun pushed the healer away, his voice shaking. “I brought ruin upon the Wu Clan. I should be the one to atone!”

“What does that have to do with you?” Meng Ye’s eyes reddened, his voice trembling between rage and grief. “When the Fengtian Temple came to Wu City, weren’t you the first to oppose it? You tried to protect us! Now, after all this, are you going to abandon us too?”

Others gathered behind him. For the surviving Wu clansmen, Xu Zhichun—their Great Wuzhu—was the last hope they had left.

Meng Zhou stepped forward, his voice breaking. “Great Wuzhu, the clan leader’s last words were clear. As long as you live, the Wu Clan still has hope. Please—don’t abandon us!”

Meng Ye gritted his teeth. “You promised to lift the curse! You haven’t cured me yet. How can you die before me?”

Even Yun Zhuoran, who was not one of them, could not let Xu Zhichun fall apart like this.

“You want to atone?” Yun Zhuoran’s tone was cold, cutting through the noise. “Then live—and atone properly.”

The sudden authority in his voice silenced the crowd. 

Dozens of eyes turned toward him, some indignant, others questioning, but he stood firm. The heart demon’s presence loomed behind him, shielding him from the murmurs.

Xu Zhichun slowly raised his head, dazed. 

Yun Zhuoran studied his pallid face and saw how near he had come to death. If Wen Jianxian’s sword had been even a heartbeat slower, the man would have succeeded.

“Great Wuzhu,” Yun Zhuoran continued, his tone like steel, “the true culprit was Yun Duo—and those she deceived. She’s dead. Your clan leaders have paid with their lives. But this isn’t over. The deity of Fengtian Temple still remains.” He took a step forward, voice low and steady. “Your duty now is not to die. It’s to avenge the Wu Clan—and lead us to that god.”