When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 168

According to the bamboo slips left by Lingshan Patriarch Chongyu, Tianyan Palace was said to lie deep within the snowy mountains, at the summit of a peak known as Shengxue Peak.

This time, only Yun Zhuoran, Weiran, Penglai Immortal, Lu Yu, and Gu Shenshu traveled together.

 After Yun Zhuoran removed the seal from Lu Yu’s arm, the five departed Tiandao Sect at dawn and entered the frozen mountain range.

Though they knew the general location, no one could be certain they would truly find the ruins of Tianyan Palace. Weiran secretly hoped that reaching the palace would somehow offer a way for him and his brother to return safely. Normally composed and indifferent, even he felt uneasy. Having cultivated both body and soul alongside Yun Zhuoran, he longed to remain by his side—and feared the dangers awaiting him.

But the situation had long since left them no choice. The continued pursuit and manipulation surrounding Yun Zhuoran made this journey inevitable.

The white-clad figure beneath the crimson umbrella handed it to Penglai Immortal and slowed his pace. Snow and wind whipped through his silver-white hair, but could not dim the soft golden flame glowing faintly between his brows.

 As Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu moved ahead with Gu Shenshu’s hovering spirit, Yun Zhuoran reached out and clasped Weiran’s hand.

Weiran started, then returned the gesture, his fingers tightening around Yun Zhuoran’s. Watching the three figures braving the storm ahead, he whispered softly, “Brother.”

Yun Zhuoran turned and smiled. “Yes.”

Weiran’s expression grew solemn. Though he feared that they might never find Tianyan Palace, he didn’t voice it. Instead, he looked at Yun Zhuoran for a long moment, then held his hand close to his heart to warm it. The wind was sharp, and their Taoist robes were thin, but Weiran’s unique body resisted the cold. He wanted only to shield Yun Zhuoran from it.

Yun Zhuoran chuckled lightly, sensing his thoughts. “It’s all right, even if we don’t find it.”

Weiran felt a pang of guilt, afraid Yun Zhuoran had seen through him—afraid his hesitation was selfish. Tianyan Palace was dangerous, too dangerous. Now that they were together, the thought of losing Yun Zhuoran filled him with dread.

After a pause, Yun Zhuoran glanced at the three figures walking ahead. His voice was soft. “I don’t know why, but being here… I almost wish we’d come alone.”

Weiran smiled faintly. “Brother, don’t worry too much.”

Yun Zhuoran’s unease was natural. Gu Shenshu, who had already died once, had insisted on coming. Lu Yu, a demon from Shanhai City, had no obligation to risk his life for them. And Penglai Immortal, bound to him by Yun Peiran’s legacy, was one of the last people Yun Zhuoran wanted to endanger. The fear of losing anyone weighed heavily on him.

“Weiran,” Yun Zhuoran murmured, his dark eyes fixed on him, “hold me.”

The words, quietly spoken, carried a rare vulnerability. 

The Heart Demon blinked, then embraced him without hesitation, a faint, indulgent smile on his lips. “Don’t be afraid, Brother. I’ll always be here.”

The others noticed but said nothing. They understood. The road ahead would be perilous, and with Lu Yu’s arm newly healed, the group had stayed close together. Yun Zhuoran and the Little Island Master—Dao companions in all but ceremony—had been denied even a moment of privacy until now.

When they reached a hillside overlooking the frozen expanse, they stopped. Lu Yu unfolded the bamboo slips and studied them carefully. “This should be Shengxue Peak.”

Penglai Immortal tilted his head to examine the writing. Gu Shenshu’s translucent figure hovered beneath the protective umbrella—an artifact strong enough to withstand the wind, snow, and malice that would otherwise erode a spirit.

Suddenly, Lu Yu made a small sound of surprise.

Yun Zhuoran straightened, releasing Weiran. 

Ahead, Lu Yu, Penglai Immortal, and Gu Shenshu were whispering to one another. Exchanging a glance, Yun Zhuoran and Weiran stepped forward through the deepening snow.

“How is it? Did you find something?” Yun Zhuoran asked.

The three looked uneasy. Lu Yu gestured toward the distance. “There.”

Through the veil of snow, a dark shape emerged—a buried city beneath the ice. Jagged rooftops broke through the frozen layer, and near the summit, several half-preserved palaces loomed faintly in the blizzard.

As they climbed higher, the outlines became clearer. The palaces matched Xu Zhichun’s dying description. Could Tianyan Palace truly be found so easily?

The group instinctively looked to Yun Zhuoran. He frowned, silent and uncertain.

“Let’s go,” Gu Shenshu said quietly.

Penglai Immortal nodded, his tone firm.

Lu Yu glanced between them, then coughed. “Fine. If this really is Tianyan Palace, we’ll know soon enough.”

Yun Zhuoran hesitated, then met Gu Shenshu’s calm gaze. The elder smiled faintly and moved ahead with Lu Yu and Penglai Immortal. The Heart Demon squeezed Yun Zhuoran’s wrist.

“Let’s go, Brother,” he said softly.

Yun Zhuoran exhaled and nodded. There was no turning back now.

Xu Zhichun, before his death, had once stumbled into a palace buried in the snow and heard a voice—a voice he believed to be Rong Wuduan, the last Palace Master of Tianyan Palace.

Now, the five ascended the mountain together. They passed countless abandoned halls half-buried under frost until finally standing before a towering gate. Even through its cracked stone, an overwhelming pressure emanated from within.

Before the half-open doors stood a tall, slender man in snow-white robes, his head shaven, skin pale, and a golden-red flame burning between his brows. His serene gaze met Yun Zhuoran’s, and he smiled.

“You’re here.”

They all recognized the face instantly.

Penglai Immortal nearly rushed forward, but Gu Shenshu held him back. 

Lu Yu gritted his teeth. “Yun Peiran!”

The figure’s smile deepened. “You’ve all come—including my brother. Did you come to see me?”

Yun Zhuoran froze for an instant, then steadied himself. He glanced at Gu Shenshu, who subtly shook his head. Yun Zhuoran’s voice turned cold. “If you wanted us to find Tianyan Palace so easily, why wear my brother’s face? Afraid to show your true self?”

Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu tensed, trusting Yun Zhuoran’s judgment. Looking closer, they noticed the faint discrepancies—the eyes, the expression, the aura.

The impostor smiled faintly, voice soft. “I am your brother, Yun Peiran. Don’t you recognize me after all these years?”

Yun Zhuoran’s tone was ice. “Rong Wuduan—you don’t even look like him.”

The man laughed, and his form shifted. The monk’s white robes dissolved into a black-and-white Daoist robe. A jade crown settled atop his head, his hair falling like ink to his waist. His features—sharp brows, phoenix eyes, thin lips—radiated an eerie elegance. The golden-red flame between his brows flared brighter.

“Yes,” he said with an easy smile. “I am Rong Wuduan.”

He no longer bothered to disguise himself. 

Yun Zhuoran’s gaze darkened as Rong Wuduan turned and stepped into the palace.

“The wind and snow are merciless,” he said lightly. “You’ve come a long way. Whatever your intentions, come inside. Have some tea to warm yourselves.”

Having come this far, Yun Zhuoran didn’t hesitate. He strode forward, the Heart Demon close beside him. 

Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu exchanged tense glances and followed, with Gu Shenshu’s spirit drifting after them.

The moment they crossed the threshold, a warm, tranquil atmosphere surrounded them.

The hall within was perfectly preserved, untouched by time. The four lamps still burned faintly, their eternal flames casting soft light on the walls. At its center stood a massive bronze armillary sphere, entwined by two serpents—one black, one white. The aura emanating from it was unmistakably ominous.

“It was on a snowy day like this,” a voice echoed from the shadows, “that Xu Zhichun first entered Tianyan Palace.”

Turning, they saw Rong Wuduan seated by a window. A clay stove glowed beside him, a pot of tea steaming gently atop it. He raised his head, gesturing to the cushions across from him.

“I brought you here,” he said casually. “So I’ll give you time to think. Sit.”

Their anger simmered beneath the surface. He had worn Yun Peiran’s face, toyed with them, and now spoke as if entertaining guests.

Yun Zhuoran, his Heart Demon close behind, sat down wordlessly across from him. Penglai Immortal folded his red umbrella and entered, allowing Gu Shenshu’s spirit to move freely. Lu Yu followed with a scowl. Gu Shenshu, calm as ever, drifted over last.

Rong Wuduan poured the tea, his tone light. “Ask what you wish to know.”

Lu Yu sneered. “Since when are you so generous?”

Rong Wuduan smiled faintly, like a fox savoring the game. “Once you step into Tianyan Palace, leaving isn’t easy. I’ve always treated the dying with courtesy.”

Lu Yu slammed his palm on the table. “Just you?”

Yun Zhuoran remained silent, his eyes on Gu Shenshu, who gave a small nod.

Since entering, Gu Shenshu had stayed remarkably composed. Now, facing the man who had once orchestrated his death and imprisoned his soul for decades, he still smiled faintly.

“Where is Yun Peiran?” Gu Shenshu asked.

Yun Zhuoran’s heart tightened. Even Lu Yu and Penglai Immortal looked startled. Rong Wuduan blinked in brief surprise, then smiled.

“Yun Peiran,” he said softly, “was once the one I admired most. I helped him escape the pagoda, leave the Tianqing Sect, and rise high enough to challenge you, Sect Master Gu.” His expression darkened. “But in the end, he betrayed me. He refused to kill you and would not hand over the Taiyin True Fire.” Rong Wuduan sighed, his tone almost wistful. “Naturally, betrayal has consequences. Before I went to him, he left his brother a clue—one that led you all here.”

Penglai Immortal leaned forward, ignoring everything else. “Is he still alive?”

Rong Wuduan ignored the question, his eyes glinting as they shifted to Yun Zhuoran. “Each of you may ask one question,” he said lazily. “But I don’t promise to answer all of them. So—will you ask, or will someone else?”

Penglai Immortal clenched his fists. “Then I—”

Rong Wuduan cut him off with a faint smile. “Not you.”

Lu Yu’s temper flared. “You said each of us could ask one question!”

“I answer what I choose,” Rong Wuduan replied coolly. “Your turn is gone.”

Lu Yu slammed his hand on the table, furious. “You’re playing with us!”

Everyone knew it. But this was Tianyan Palace—Rong Wuduan’s domain. Here, his rules applied.

Feigning sympathy, Rong Wuduan said smoothly, “You seem displeased. Fine. Yun Zhuoran, I’ll allow you one more question—but not about Yun Peiran.”

Lu Yu and Penglai Immortal gradually calmed, exchanging a silent glance of tacit understanding.

Gu Shenshu had already posed his question, and Yun Zhuoran now had two—an exception granted by Rong Wuduan himself. Yet there was no satisfaction in Yun Zhuoran’s expression.

Rong Wuduan’s earlier answers had been evasive. Everyone knew that Yun Peiran’s rapid rise owed much to Rong Wuduan’s aid, but the real question—his current whereabouts—remained deliberately unanswered. Their conversation had become a game, each question bait for Rong Wuduan’s amusement.

Yun Zhuoran remained silent, deep in thought. 

Rong Wuduan watched him with an easy smile. “Haven’t you decided yet?”

Gu Shenshu, Penglai Immortal, and Lu Yu all turned toward Yun Zhuoran.

 After a moment, Yun Zhuoran spoke evenly, his tone calm but cutting: “‘Nothing, no emotion, no self.’ That must have been your creed. It’s why you slaughtered your kin and friends, and finally drew heavenly lightning upon yourself. Your spirit beasts must have perished long ago. But you weren’t seeking death—you were preparing the foundation for a new world. According to Patriarch Chongyu of Lingshan, you despised all creation and sought to replace the Heavenly Dao itself—to destroy the old world and create your own.”

His voice was soft but resonant, each word landing with quiet precision. 

Rong Wuduan’s expression flickered, though his smile did not fade.

Yun Zhuoran continued, “It’s been over three thousand years since Tianyan Palace fell. You only shed your mortal body; you never truly died. Since then, you’ve manipulated others—Xu Zhichun among them—over and over again. From the moment he stumbled into Tianyan Palace, you marked him. You sent him to the Wu Clan, where something caught your interest. Then you used the High Priest, established the Fengtian Temple, lured Ji Yan from the Demon Palace, and brought him to Yun City. Every step since has been part of your plan.” His gaze sharpened. “What is your purpose? To gather faith through the Wu Clan’s desperation, and to secure the Taiyin True Fire through Yun City’s fall—all for one goal: to forge your new world.”

Gu Shenshu nodded slowly. “Indeed. Wu City, Yun City, even my own death—each part of your design to remove anyone who might comprehend the Heavenly Dao before you.”

Yun Zhuoran pressed further. “You’ve already grasped much of the world’s law, yet you still pursue me. Rong Wuduan—is the key to your new world the Taiyin True Fire?”

The Heart Demon’s eyes flashed with blood-red light as he glared at Rong Wuduan. 

The smile faded from the Palace Master’s lips. 

Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu assumed he would not answer—but both knew Yun Zhuoran’s conclusion was likely correct.

After a pause, Rong Wuduan finally spoke. “The Taiyin True Fire escaped my control a thousand years ago. My carelessness burned me and sealed me within Tianyan Palace. Years later, Xu Zhichun wandered in. He wasn’t the first; others before him gathered resources for my new world, yet it was still insufficient. To restore myself, I needed more faith—and the Wu Clan was ideal for that. The High Priest’s purpose was to retrieve the True Fire for me.”

Yun Zhuoran’s expression darkened. “So the Yun City disaster was indeed your doing.”

Rong Wuduan smiled faintly. “I was careless. When refining the Taiyin True Fire, I awakened its self-awareness. It roamed the mortal world for years before taking human form. Over twenty years ago, the High Priest informed me that its incarnation had been born into the Yun family. I ordered it retrieved. By then, you—its vessel—had descended to the mortal world, untrained and unguarded. The True Fire consumed your life force, leaving you frail and dying before the age of ten.” He leaned forward slightly, gaze fixed on Yun Zhuoran. “You will die from that same illness eventually. But if I claim the True Fire, I will complete my work. This is the final step. Tell me—if you were in my place, would you surrender it willingly?”

His eyes gleamed, predatory and cold, like a serpent sizing its prey. His gaze seemed to pierce Yun Zhuoran’s soul, intent on dissecting him, extracting the core of the Taiyin True Fire burning within.

Yun Zhuoran met his stare with composure. “No wonder you’re so determined. But there’s something that doesn’t add up. If you needed the Taiyin True Fire, why stop Xu Zhichun from revealing Tianyan Palace’s location? If I had come sooner, wouldn’t it have served your purpose? Yet you went out of your way to prevent it. That only proves you no longer truly need the True Fire.”

Rong Wuduan chuckled, eyes lowered to the clay stove where water simmered. “The Taiyin True Fire remains crucial. I still want it.” He raised his eyes, a faint smile curving his lips. “But do you truly think I don’t already possess a portion of it? Years ago, the High Priest brought me a fragment. It isn’t the core, but with it—and with other means—I no longer depend on the rest.”

Yun Zhuoran caught the implication immediately. “So you no longer need it—but you’re unwilling to let it go. What are these ‘other means’ you mentioned?”

Rong Wuduan’s smile widened. “You’ve asked two questions already. I’ve always hated losing control. Anyone who might interfere with me… has no need to exist.”

Yun Zhuoran exhaled softly, signaling to the others with a slight shake of his head—there was no point pressing further.

Gu Shenshu smiled faintly, unbothered. Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu sat in uneasy silence, still simmering with anger at Rong Wuduan’s arrogance. For all his eloquence, he had offered them nothing of value.

Rong Wuduan leaned back, his tone light. “It seems your questions are finished.”

The words sent a ripple of unease through them.

“I haven’t spoken yet.”

The clear voice came from the young man in red. 

All eyes turned to the Little Island Master, whose calm expression masked a hint of contempt. He looked at Yun Zhuoran, who nodded in silent approval.

Rong Wuduan’s gaze sharpened. The boy’s aura was unsettling—too similar to Yun Zhuoran’s, like a shadow carved from the same soul. The Taiyin True Fire had no need for shadows. 

Intrigued, he gestured lazily. “Very well. I’ll allow it.”

Weiran’s tone was cold and direct. “Are you stalling for time?”

Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu exchanged startled glances. Neither had expected that question. Gu Shenshu merely watched in silence, while Yun Zhuoran’s eyes gleamed faintly with approval.

Rong Wuduan blinked, then burst into laughter. “You’re an amusing little thing.”

The Heart Demon’s lips tightened. “Just answer.”

Yun Zhuoran’s tone joined his, steady and sharp. “You said you’ve already begun your final preparations—that you no longer need the Taiyin True Fire. So this delay… you’re afraid we’ll undo everything you’ve built. Aren’t you?”

The air thickened. Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu exchanged alarmed looks. 

Could it be true? Could Rong Wuduan really have forged an entirely new world?

Rong Wuduan clapped softly, his smile widening. “I had intended to reveal this later, but you’re quicker than expected. Very well. Let me show you the cultivation world as it stands now.”

He flicked a finger. A single droplet from the boiling pot rose and split midair, forming a shimmering water mirror.

Within it appeared the righteous sects—Wen Jianxian, Qin Zheng, Lu Qi, and other cultivators of the Lingshan Sect—locked in battle against red-eyed demons. The scene shifted rapidly: Tiandao Sect, Tianqing Sect, and Kunwu Sword Sect all breached. In every direction, chaos reigned. Among both righteous and demonic cultivators, countless had fallen. The monsters’ blood-red eyes mirrored the demonized children once seen in Wu City, though these creatures were clad in sect robes.

Rong Wuduan’s voice was almost playful. “Believe it. This is the world as it is now—the righteous, the demonic, even the mortal realm. For years, I have prepared sacrificial formations in every land. The True Lunar Fire and True Solar Fire together can forge creation itself. Refuse to hand over the True Lunar Fire? Then I will sacrifice this world. Only through destruction can rebirth occur.”

Yun Zhuoran’s expression darkened. He thought of Wen Jianxian and the others, but they were far beyond reach.

“Song Shao!” Penglai Immortal’s sudden cry drew everyone’s gaze toward the mirror.

In the reflection, Song Shao dragged a bloodied Song Yun into a hidden corner of Tiandao Sect. Song Yun’s robes were torn and soaked in blood. Song Shao pressed a jade slip to his chest and crushed it. Instantly, the pendant at Penglai Immortal’s waist blazed with light—its warning unmistakable.

Penglai Immortal froze. Yun Zhuoran and Weiran exchanged a look. 

Penglai explained quietly, “I gave them that jade slip when we left Penglai. If they crushed it, it means the sect is under attack.”

No further words were needed. Song Shao and Song Yun were truly in danger. Rong Wuduan’s apocalyptic scheme was no mere threat.

The mirror shifted again—now showing Shanhai City, overrun with the same crimson-eyed fiends. 

Lu Yu’s face turned pale with rage. He lunged at Rong Wuduan, but the man dissolved into a golden wisp, vanishing before their eyes. The mirror shattered, water scattering across the cold stone floor.

Gu Shenshu’s voice broke the stunned silence. “Even so, there must be a way to stop him. Find his true form. He’s never shown his real body—it must be hidden somewhere, sustaining his creation. If we find it, we can end this.”

Lu Yu stared at the fading image of Shanhai City, anguish clouding his face.

“Tianyan Palace,” Yun Zhuoran said, eyes burning with certainty. “He killed himself there once and revived through the Taiyin True Fire. He considers it his sanctuary—that’s why he kept us from reaching it.”

Rong Wuduan’s cold laughter filled the hall.

“So quick to see through it. You truly deserve your reputation, number one under the Heavenly Dao.”

“Where are you?” Yun Zhuoran demanded.

Lu Yu scoured the room, but the palace was empty.

Yun Zhuoran’s voice was like steel. “Even if you sacrifice heaven and earth, your sins are unforgivable. You’ll never become the Heavenly Dao.”

Rong Wuduan’s reply came from all around them, his tone calm and chilling. “There are more evils than goods in this world. I merely grant them what they desire. Good, evil—it doesn’t matter. They all serve in my formation. When the new world is born, everything will begin anew.”

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the doorway. 

Lu Yu saw it first.

It wasn’t Rong Wuduan. It was Yun Peiran—clad in white, framed by the falling snow. Firelight illuminated his face, his eyes half closed.

Having already been deceived once, no one dared believe it.

Lu Yu rushed forward.

Yun Peiran’s eyes snapped open—crimson and cold. A golden-red Buddhist seal flared behind him, pulsing with violent energy.

Lu Yu stumbled back, his blood roaring as a low chant reverberated through the hall. Yun Zhuoran’s breath caught in disbelief.

The Heart Demon yanked him backward as Yun Peiran lunged. 

Penglai Immortal, Lu Yu, and Gu Shenshu scattered to intercept, but Yun Peiran’s gaze—blood-red and merciless—locked onto Yun Zhuoran and Weiran.

Rong Wuduan’s voice echoed through the hall, unmasked and cruelly amused.

“You wished to see Yun Peiran? Then behold him. Though he betrayed me, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him—so he serves me now. Yun Zhuoran, shall we make a wager? Let’s see if you can find me alive… this time.”