When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 21

This method of questioning, with its clear implications, is indeed very naive and childlike.

Yun Zhuoran replies, “I don’t know.”

Unwilling to accept this, Gu Qiuming tilts his round little face upward and says, “Brother Yun, was it you who saved me that day? It must have been you! I saw the corner of your garment!”

Yun Zhuoran lowers his gaze, glancing at the light pink floral pattern on the edge of his garment, a cold glimmer flickering in his serene eyes.

The boy beside him whispers urgently, “Brother Yun, don’t worry! I absolutely won’t tell anyone! I know you’re in a difficult situation right now, and I, Gu Qiuming, would never harm my benefactor!”

Yun Zhuoran looks at him again; Gu Qiuming’s eyes remain bright and clear.

“Brother Yun has helped me twice, and it was a life-saving grace. Without you, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to hold on,” Gu Qiuming says. “Since I escaped from Shengjing, I’ve met quite a few good people, but no one has quietly helped me like you have, saying nothing at all. I am really grateful to Senior Brother Yun!”

Hearing the boy’s heartfelt words, Yun Zhuoran’s expression turns complicated. He silently communicates with his heart demon, “If it weren’t for your insistence on seeing whether Gu Qiuming would survive and be taken in by Shen Lingshu like in the stories, I wouldn’t have helped him out. Look, now I’ve gotten into trouble. How should I deal with this little brat?”

The heart demon hadn’t expected Gu Qiuming to see his brother even while semi-conscious. He ponders for a moment, tightens his grip on Yun Zhuoran’s wrist, and softly says, “Brother is the best!”

Always loving to act cute, whether there’s something going on or not.

Yun Zhuoran forcefully ruffles the small black ball and, shifting his gaze, looks at Gu Qiuming. Seeing his indifferent expression, the boy immediately straightens his face, sits up straight, clasps his hands, and nervously makes eye contact with him.

Gu Qiuming is still very young, only sixteen years old, and his body hasn’t fully grown yet. He’s short and thin, barely reaching Yun Zhuoran’s shoulders. As Yun Zhuoran looks at him, he suddenly feels like he’s bullying a child.

“Don’t say anything.” Ultimately, Yun Zhuoran only instructs this, but at the same time, he presses one hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Otherwise, before you even open your mouth, you’ll never be able to say a word.”

Gu Qiuming tilts his head in response, looking at the long, fair hand on his shoulder. His cheeks flush a little more, and suddenly his dark eyes widen as a faint golden light surges from his shoulder and enters his body!

Yun Zhuoran observes Gu Qiuming’s expression change from joy to shock, then he loosens his grip and turns to leave. Gu Qiuming stands there in a daze, still looking astonished, unable to resist following Yun Zhuoran with his gaze. He furrows his brow but then quickens his pace to catch up.

Yun Zhuoran catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye and feels a sense of trouble. Fortunately, Gu Qiuming doesn’t expose him; instead, he willingly follows, so Yun Zhuoran casts a silencing spell on him.

Until the spell is lifted, he’ll never be able to speak of what he saw that day at the Cloud Pool. In fact, killing him would be simpler, but the heart demon insists on watching the show.

When the two arrive at the inn’s lower level, Cheng Yu from Qinghe Peak comes to find Gu Qiuming. Seeing him with Yun Zhuoran, he is evidently quite startled.

Before Cheng Yu left, his senior sisters had advised him not to approach Yun Zhuoran, but upon encountering him, he still steps forward to salute. After receiving a response from Yun Zhuoran, he can’t help but smile foolishly and pulls Gu Qiuming back.

People say that things reflect their owners, and Yun Zhuoran’s heart demon, who inherited his love for tranquility, doesn’t like crowded places. Nodding in agreement, he passes the two people.

“Oh, right!”

Cheng Yu finally snaps back to his senses and, blushing a little, reminds Yun Zhuoran, “Brother Yun, someone came looking for you just now and is waiting in the hall.”

Yun Zhuoran stops in his tracks. “Who?”

Despite his cool demeanor, a faint blush like the first hint of spring colors his face. When he looks at Cheng Yu with clear, piercing eyes, Cheng Yu blurts everything out in a daze.

“It’s a senior from the Kunwu Sword Sect. Brother Lu is inside catching up with him,” he says, as Yun Zhuoran steps through the doorway. Cheng Yu scratches his head and adds, “I heard Brother Lu call him… Fellow Daoist Li. Seems like he’s a cultivator from Kunwu Sword Sect.”

Yun Zhuoran freezes, a sense of dread surfacing. He feels an urge to turn back, but it’s too late; as soon as he enters the inn, the people inside notice him.

In the nearly empty lobby, reserved by the Tiandao Sect, a young man in blue, sitting across from Lu Qi, looks up. With a loud slam on the table, he calls out, “Yun Zhuoran! So you really are here!”

“…Li Jianming.” Yun Zhuoran glances at Cheng Yu, silently blaming him for the slow warning, then strides forward at an unhurried pace.

Cheng Yu feels a chill down his spine, leaving him flushed and confused.

Li Jianming, the young man in green, is someone Yun Zhuoran has known since they were young. As an apprentice to Wen Jianxian of Kunwu Sword Sect, Li Jianming is, in Yun Zhuoran’s eyes, a troublemaker—someone even more annoying than Gu Qiuming.

When Yun Zhuoran is fifteen, having just become Gu Shenshu’s disciple, Gu Shenshu nags him constantly, insisting he join the other disciples’ training on Pojun Mountain. Finally fed up, Yun Zhuoran shoulders the storage bag Gu Shenshu packs for him and sets off with Shen Lingshu, Lu Qi, Jiang Zhibai, Ji Chen, and others.

Both he and his brother, Yun Peiran, prefer solitude, and although Shen Lingshu looks out for him, Yun Zhuoran still wanders off and, as luck would have it, encounters Li Jianming.

Back then, Li Jianming was just a boy, training with his senior brothers. When Yun Zhuoran accidentally kills a ghost Li Jianming has been stalking all day, Li Jianming latches onto him for a duel. Still a novice at Qi Refining, Li Jianming is no match for Yun Zhuoran, who has already reached the Foundation Establishment stage. But too stubborn to admit defeat, he convinces his master, Wen Jianxian, to send him to the Tiandao Sect for six months…ostensibly to study.

“Study” is just an excuse—he’s there to seek a duel.

During those six months, Li Jianming is the first thing Yun Zhuoran sees every morning—a relentless challenger always waiting at his door. It wears on his patience.

If Yun Zhuoran had known Li Jianming was at the inn, he would have taken a longer walk around town. Even if it was crowded and noisy outside, Li Jianming’s voice is like a hundred ducks quacking all at once.

But now, it’s too late.

With his heart demon by his side, Yun Zhuoran can only walk in.

Li Jianming really hasn’t changed at all. He’s grown up, his once-clear voice now louder than ever. Before Yun Zhuoran can fully approach, Li Jianming bounds over with a curious gleam in his eyes. “I heard that an incredibly handsome young man joined the Tiandao Sect, so of course I had to come check it out. Who would’ve guessed it’d turn out to be you, Yun Zhuoran! What’s wrong with you? You haven’t come out in twenty years—how do you manage that? I half-thought you were locked away somewhere! I even dreamed about rescuing you from a dark little room, but it turns out you were just in seclusion…”

Without a flicker of emotion, Yun Zhuoran brushes past him and nods to Lu Qi. “Senior Brother Lu.”

Lu Qi, who has already stood up, looks both tired and resigned. He seems to consider this a chance to slip away but freezes as Yun Zhuoran blocks his escape with a mere glance.

Unfazed, Li Jianming continues his relentless chatter. He has always been a boundlessly energetic young man, his every gesture and even the faint freckles by his eyes brimming with excitement.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me? Don’t you remember me? Come on! I’m Li Jianming! My master’s Wen Jue, the Sword Immortal of Kunwu Sword Sect! You couldn’t have forgotten that! And I’m way too handsome to forget. Yun Zhuoran, are you even human?”

Turning abruptly to Lu Qi, Li Jianming adds, “Senior Brother Lu, don’t worry! This is just between Yun Zhuoran and me. We’ll go outside and spar in a bit. No need for you to step in and teach Yun Zhuoran a lesson!”

Lu Qi presses his lips together and reluctantly sits back down.

Yun Zhuoran, coldly reminding him, says, “I didn’t agree to anything. Stop looking for excuses to fight.”

Li Jianming replies, “Then agree now.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Li Jianming persists. “I heard you’ve reached the golden core stage, same as me. We’re equals now—why not have a match?”

Yun Zhuoran sympathizes with the people of the Kunwu Sword Sect who likely deal with this energy every day. He also knows that sparring with Li Jianming is a recipe for never-ending trouble.

“I’m going back to my room,” he announces to Lu Qi.

Lu Qi promptly stands again. “I’ll walk you there.”

Both of them see through each other’s intentions: they both want to escape Li Jianming. With a quick look, they silently agree to cooperate.

“Hey, hey! Listen to me!” Li Jianming anxiously calls out, stretching his arms to block their path.

Lu Qi sighs, “I need to practice my swordsmanship.”

Since he is in a realm far above Li Jianming’s Nascent Soul stage, Li Jianming doesn’t dare challenge him. Instead, he turns to Yun Zhuoran, looking pitifully like a puppy abandoned by its owner.

“Fine, no fighting today. But at least chat with me?” He gives up on the match, practically dancing around Yun Zhuoran. “Come on, Yun Zhuoran, show me that golden-and-red magic circle! What do you call it—the Golden Light Mantra? Can I learn it?”

The Golden Light Mantra is a unique Taoist technique from another sect entirely, so Yun Zhuoran simply stares, speechless. But he understands that Li Jianming is actually asking about the spell Yun Zhuoran has used to defeat him time and again in the past—a spell Yun Zhuoran has created himself.

However, Yun Zhuoran hasn’t named the spell either.

Before he enters the Dao, he already possesses a unique, gold-red lunar-attribute spiritual power. Influenced by Yun Peiran and Gu Shenshu, he develops his own personal spell techniques without formal instruction, and thus far, his techniques have presented no issues.

Li Jianming thinks for a moment, realizing it probably isn’t called the Golden Light Mantra. He’s never heard Yun Zhuoran mention a name for his rare magic, though, and thinking further seems pointless, so he lets it go. Glancing around, he suddenly notices two young men—one tall, the other shorter—staring at him with wide eyes, as if they are stunned.

“Hello,” Li Jianming greets casually.

Cheng Yu and Gu Qiuming snap out of their daze, exchanging looks. Then, Gu Qiuming asks in amazement, “Wen Jianxian… is he really your master, Senior Li?”

This is the first time anyone has proactively asked him a question today, and Li Jianming is thrilled.

“That’s right! But soon enough, whenever people mention my master, the first thing they’ll think of will surely be that he’s the master of Little Sword Immortal Li Jianming!”

Gu Qiuming can only manage a forced smile. “Senior Li certainly has a lot of confidence.”

Yun Zhuoran raises his brows, signaling to Lu Qi that it is time to leave, but Li Jianming, ever perceptive, manages to keep up with both Gu Qiuming’s questions and Yun Zhuoran’s reaction. He calls back, “If you really don’t want to show me your technique, fine. But I’ve learned a ton over the years at the Sword Sect! My master even says I’m talented! Take a look—I guarantee once you see it, you’ll want to spar with me!”

“I don’t want to,” Yun Zhuoran replies, glancing at the amused Gu Qiuming and Cheng Yu, then back at Li Jianming. “You seem very busy.”

Li Jianming opens his palm. “Look!”

Yun Zhuoran feels little interest until suddenly two sizzling sounds crackle, and a bolt of lightning flares across Li Jianming’s hand. Small but incredibly fierce, it emits a distinct air of righteousness that even catches Lu Qi’s attention.

Yun Zhuoran simply observes, “Thunder technique.”

Li Jianming, visibly surprised, dismisses the intimidating lightning, staring at Yun Zhuoran in delight. “You know it!”

Yun Zhuoran doesn’t bat an eye. “One of the Kunwu Sword Sect’s most distinguished techniques outside of the Supreme Sword Divine Art. And with your mutated thunder spirit root, it suits you well.”

Li Jianming beams, squinting proudly. “Yes, yes! My master taught it to me—”

Yun Zhuoran, predicting that Li Jianming is about to launch into a full account of his journey learning the thunder technique, swiftly interrupts, “You should go back and practice your swordsmanship.”

Li Jianming grins. “I’m in no rush. My master’s in seclusion, and my senior brother’s busy with his own matters.” He looks around as if searching for something. “Hey, where’s Shen Yu?”

Hearing this unfamiliar name, Cheng Yu grows curious. “Is there someone named Shen Yu here?”