When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 69

Yun Zhuoran’s identity is now exposed. With Penglai as his backer, only two groups dare to approach him—Tiandao Sect and Tianqing Sect. The two peak masters of Tiandao Sect are already defeated and are unlikely to trouble him again anytime soon. As for the others, they have no grudges against Yun Zhuoran or Yun Peiran. Even Wen Jianxian, the strongest figure in the four major sects from Kunwu Sword Sect, has no right to hold Yun Zhuoran accountable. Besides, the Sword Sect has always remained indifferent to worldly disputes.

So there is likely only one person standing outside the inn now.

For many years, Yun Zhuoran has remained wary of the Tianqing Sect’s Buddhist son, Tong Ye.

Yet now, instead of barging in unannounced, Tong Ye simply stands outside the inn, waiting.

After some thought, Yun Zhuoran decides to leave Penglai Immortal inside the inn and only takes Weiran with him.

Weiran wipes his face and follows closely behind, his face tense and fists clenched, clearly prepared for a fight.

Tong Ye is well-known but has always kept a low profile. This time, however, something about him seems different.

His monk’s robe no longer exudes calmness, and his thin frame now appears sharp and aggressive.

He doesn’t look friendly.

The moment Yun Zhuoran sees him, he instinctively shoots a guarded look at the heart demon.

Neither Yun Zhuoran nor the heart demon wears masks, yet despite their strikingly similar faces, Tong Ye pays the heart demon no attention at all. Instead, his pale gaze lands directly on Yun Zhuoran.

For some reason, Yun Zhuoran can actually sense a trace of nostalgia in Tong Ye’s eyes.

“This is the second time I’ve seen you,” Tong Ye says. “You look a lot like Yun Peiran.”

Counting their brief encounter at the Ten Thousand Immortals Conference, this is indeed their second meeting. But hearing those words makes Yun Zhuoran’s gaze pause slightly.

“You’re not the first person to say that,” he replies.

“The last time I saw you was decades ago,” Tong Ye continues. “You’ve grown up.”

Yun Zhuoran is puzzled. “You saw me years ago?”

In Yun Zhuoran’s memory, Tong Ye is just a legendary name often mentioned in rumors. After Gu Shenshu’s death, that name seems to surface repeatedly. Each time, Tianqing Sect tries to invite Yun Zhuoran to join them in Tong Ye’s name.

Over the years, every time Yun Zhuoran emerges from seclusion, he hears new excuses from Tianqing Sect about why Tong Ye wants to take him in. The image of Tong Ye becomes vivid in his mind, becoming a figure that pushes him to focus on cultivating, hoping to surpass this unseen presence.

Even though Tianqing Sect has repeatedly approached Tiandao Sect, claiming Tong Ye wants Yun Zhuoran to train under him, their official meeting at the Ten Thousand Immortals Conference seemed to be their first encounter.

Yet now, Tong Ye claims to have seen him many years ago?

Yun Zhuoran has no memory of that.

“It’s better not to dwell on the past,” Tong Ye says indifferently. “Yun Zhuoran, I’ll give you one more chance. Let go of Penglai and follow me.”

Hearing his calm yet confident tone, Yun Zhuoran can’t help but sneer.

“If you’re only here to drag me off to Tianqing Sect, you’d better give up now. I didn’t go before, and I won’t go now.” He glances at the heart demon. “Let’s go back.”

The heart demon nods quickly, carefully grabbing Yun Zhuoran’s sleeve.

Tong Ye’s voice calls out from behind. “Even Penglai may not be able to protect you, Yun Zhuoran. Yun Peiran has been missing for years. Don’t you want to know where he is now?”

Yun Zhuoran’s face darkens, and he turns back to Tong Ye. “You know where Yun Peiran is?”

“I won’t take you to Tianqing Sect,” Tong Ye replies. “I’ll simply watch over you on Yun Peiran’s behalf.”

“What do you mean?” The statement sounds ridiculous. Tong Ye—acting on Yun Peiran’s behalf to look after him?

Yun Zhuoran can’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

Setting aside whether Yun Zhuoran even believes that—doesn’t Tong Ye realize how strange his claim sounds?

Tong Ye’s pale face remains serious.

“Tianqing Sect and Tiandao Sect aren’t places you should stay. I’ll take you somewhere quiet to help you cultivate.”

Yun Zhuoran finds this ridiculous. “So, Tiandao Sect and Tianqing Sect aren’t suitable, but Penglai isn’t either? Can’t I cultivate in peace there? Tong Ye, what right do you have to ‘take care’ of me? Did Yun Peiran actually ask you to do this? Don’t try to fool me with sweet words. Are you planning to trap me under a pagoda the way you tried to deal with Yun Peiran?”

Before Tong Ye can reply, Yun Zhuoran cuts him off.

“I know what Tianqing Sect is plotting. You couldn’t catch Yun Peiran, so now you’re trying to use me as bait to lure him out and salvage your sect’s reputation. But what I can’t understand is why a supposedly noble figure like the Buddha’s son—someone said to be as gentle as water—is so obsessed with this. Why can’t you just let Yun Peiran go?”

It is said that Buddhist disciples have no desires, yet Tong Ye just can’t let go of Yun Peiran after so many years. This is strange. Today, Tong Ye asks Yun Zhuoran to abandon Penglai and follow him, which inevitably makes him overthink things.

If Tong Ye truly wants to take care of him on behalf of Yun Peiran, would he have allowed Tianqing Sect to pressure Yun Zhuoran all these years?

The Mingguang Lock has completely exposed the hypocritical and ridiculous kindness of Tianqing Sect and its so-called Buddha’s Son.

It is Tianqing Sect that has never been willing to let Yun Zhuoran go. Could Tong Ye not see through this?

Tong Ye hesitates for a moment before finally saying, “Yun Zhuoran, until Yun Peiran appears, even if you don’t want to, I’ll always be by your side.”

Because of Penglai’s protection, Tong Ye can’t imprison him outright, so he chooses to monitor him instead?

“Just now you said you wanted to look after me on Yun Peiran’s behalf. Now I understand. I’ve heard that you were born extraordinary, highly valued by Tianqing Sect since you entered the path of cultivation, and personally taught by several of their masters. Gifted, insightful—the moment you entered the Yun Mirror Trial, you inherited the Red Lotus Karma Fire.”

The Yun Mirror is Tianqing Sect’s sacred trial ground.

Years ago, praise for the Buddha’s disciple had been endless in the cultivation world.

“That was…”

Yun Zhuoran’s tone shifts. “Until Yun Peiran appeared out of nowhere—better than you in aptitude, comprehension, and luck. After he arrived, all your former glory was taken away without him even trying. And yet, that very person—the one who took your spotlight—was someone you personally brought back to Tianqing Sect. It was also you who locked him beneath the Buddha pagoda. When Yun Peiran cultivated the Asura Path and emerged from under the pagoda, didn’t you feel fear in your heart? Or perhaps…”

Yun Zhuoran stares directly at Tong Ye. “Are you really not jealous of Yun Peiran?”

His sharp words cut through Tong Ye’s calm façade like a cold blade. For a moment, panic flashes in Tong Ye’s eyes. How has the other party seen through the unwillingness buried deep in his heart?

Tong Ye’s face turns slightly pale.

Yun Zhuoran rarely speaks so much to people he dislikes, let alone with such sarcasm. He usually pretends not to care about how Tiandao Sect and Tianqing Sect treat him, but resentment has simmered inside him all along. Today, when Tong Ye uses Yun Peiran as an excuse to pressure him, Yun Zhuoran redirects that anger onto Tong Ye—the one who has fixated on him for years.

Back then, Yun Peiran had been isolated and helpless, with no one to help him except Penglai. Unfortunately, Penglai had been unable to intervene at the time, and Yun Peiran is quickly branded as Gu Shenshu’s murderer. After that, no one defends him.

Tong Ye’s supposed goodwill toward Yun Zhuoran now feels artificial and hypocritical.

With evidence, Tiandao Sect and Tianqing Sect could question Yun Peiran’s innocence. But what has Yun Zhuoran done wrong to deserve years of confinement? Tiandao Sect and Tianqing Sect have always been prejudiced against him.

At the Tiandao Sect banquet not long ago, Yun Zhuoran realizes something when he sees his heart demon retaliating against those who have tormented him. Ignoring injustices doesn’t make the perpetrators stop—some people only understand after being struck back. He has already endured the worst—why should he keep swallowing his pride?

At this moment, Yun Zhuoran doesn’t mind speculating about Tong Ye with a bit more malice. He delivers his conclusion directly:

“Tong Ye, you’re jealous of my brother. Because of that jealousy, even though Yun Peiran has been missing for so many years, you refuse to leave his younger brother alone. To prevent me from becoming the second Yun Peiran, you deliberately sent the Mingguang Lock. So tell me, when you locked Yun Peiran beneath the Buddha Tower back then, was that your real motive too?”

“I didn’t!” Tong Ye snaps.

Seeing his composed mask finally crack, Yun Zhuoran’s gaze sharpens with warning, yet instead of fear, he laughs coldly.

“Fine. You say you weren’t. Then tell me—everyone knows that punishment shouldn’t extend to one’s family. What crime have I, Yun Zhuoran, committed to deserve spending over twenty years surviving under Tianqing Sect and Tiandao Sect’s constant watch?”

Tong Ye opens his mouth but finds no words.

“I’ve always wanted to find a quiet place to cultivate in peace,” Yun Zhuoran says, his voice lowering slightly. He laughs softly, the sound laced with irony. “But Tong Ye… you’re the one who refuses to let me go.”

Tong Ye’s expression freezes, as if unable to refute.

Yun Zhuoran is too tired to continue arguing. He takes his heart demon by the arm and turns back toward the inn.

“You can’t leave!”

Tong Ye suddenly regains his senses, raises his hand, and summons a golden light to grab Yun Zhuoran.

Fortunately, Yun Zhuoran reacts quickly, turning back and intercepting Tong Ye’s wrist mid-air.

As their eyes meet, Yun Zhuoran catches sight of several bright red flames dancing across Tong Ye’s palm—the Red Lotus Karma Fire, incredibly powerful. Yun Zhuoran has no life-bound weapon and relies solely on spiritual power. He can’t guarantee he can evade Tong Ye’s fire unscathed.

However, Penglai Immortal is watching from the inn behind them, and Yun Zhuoran trusts him.

So, when Yun Zhuoran looks at the flames that have yet to bloom, he slowly shakes his head.

“Tong Ye, are you really trying to kill me? Out of jealousy toward Yun Peiran, you’re venting your anger on me. Saying you want to take me somewhere quiet to train—was that actually a plan to lure me to an isolated place and secretly kill me? Tong Ye, you are the Buddha’s disciple! How could you attempt to kill the innocent?”

“I’m not the one who kills the innocent!” Tong Ye growls through gritted teeth, seemingly unable to hold back anymore. When he raises his eyes, he meets Yun Zhuoran’s gaze—eyes that look remarkably like Yun Peiran’s. In those eyes, there is only doubt and distrust, identical to the way that black-clad youth had first looked at him years ago when they met in Yun City. Tong Ye’s bloodshot eyes flicker for a moment, and he unconsciously mutters, “I only wanted to find out the truth…”

At that moment, Tong Ye abruptly pauses. The panic in his expression vanishes, his eyes regaining their sharpness. The tension in his tightly pressed lips eases slightly, revealing a faint, pale mark.

At the same time, the golden glow in Tong Ye’s hand fades, and the crimson flames disappear along with it.

Yun Zhuoran has expected a fight. In fact, he’s been anticipating it for years. Seeing Tong Ye back down, he pauses in surprise. Then, letting go of Tong Ye’s wrist, he watches as Tong Ye stares at him expressionlessly, his face blank.

“Fine, I’ll let you go,” Tong Ye says.

Yun Zhuoran raises an eyebrow in surprise. Is Tong Ye really giving up? Not going to fight?

Even his heart demon seems confused.

Suspicious, Yun Zhuoran gives Tong Ye one last glance before turning back to the inn.

Then Tong Ye speaks again, his voice awkward and strained. “The Mingguang Lock… Give it back to me. It’s not a toy for you.”

When Tong Ye realizes Yun Zhuoran has escaped, his thoughts go to Yun Peiran—the one who could manipulate the Mingguang Lock in a dozen different ways. As Yun Peiran’s younger brother, how could Yun Zhuoran not have inherited some of that skill?

Yun Zhuoran has no intention of keeping the Mingguang Lock. It is useless to him, so he simply pulls it from his storage ring, tosses it to Tong Ye, and leaves.

This time, Tong Ye doesn’t try to stop him. He simply clutches the still-warm Mingguang Lock tightly, his expression grim.

“Raising monsters is definitely bad for cultivation,” Tong Ye mutters.

The heart demon, already tense, stiffens further and looks at Yun Zhuoran with fear.

Yun Zhuoran’s face turns cold. He takes the heart demon’s hand firmly and says, “His name is Weiran. He’s my brother.”

“Weiran…”

For some reason, that name unsettles Tong Ye. He asks urgently, “I never knew Yun Peiran had two brothers. His name is Weiran? Where is he from? Yun Zhuoran, have you been to Yuncheng?”

Yun Zhuoran finds Tong Ye’s behavior increasingly strange. Especially when he mentions Yuncheng—it is clear Tong Ye knows something. But since Tong Ye isn’t an ally, Yun Zhuoran doesn’t trust him and refuses to reveal his own interest in Yuncheng. Pretending not to hear, he leads Weiran back into the barrier in front of the inn.

Tong Ye doesn’t follow. He stands outside the barrier, silently watching the inn.

As soon as Yun Zhuoran enters, Jue Fei rushes over to the inn where Penglai Immortal and the others are staying. He spots Tong Ye standing at the door from a distance and hurries over.

“Junior Brother, go back! This is Penglai’s territory. With the Penglai Immortal here, no one can touch Yun Zhuoran. Don’t do anything reckless again!”

Tong Ye shoots Jue Fei a cold glance and tucks the Mingguang Lock back into his sleeve.

Jue Fei catches only a flash of golden light. “Junior Brother, what are you hiding?”

Without waiting for an answer, he adds, “With the Immortal of Penglai guarding him, the sect leader said that unless Tiandao Sect intervenes, we shouldn’t interfere with Yun Zhuoran anymore. Tong Ye, I know you want to protect Yun Peiran’s brother, but Yun Peiran has always been ungrateful. Why do you bother—”

Tong Ye ignores him, cutting Jue Fei off with a question: “Where can I get a Floating Order?”

Jue Fei hesitates before replying, “…In ten days, the floating city should open. Usually, a batch of Floating Orders appears on the 7th of each month. Today’s batch is likely the last one. Junior Brother, do you want a Floating Order?” Without hesitation, Jue Fei pulls out a jade talisman with his name on it and sighs. “If you want it, take mine. Just stay away from Yun Zhuoran. Leave these things to me; I’ll handle it. You should focus on your cultivation…”

Tong Ye pushes the Floating Order back into Jue Fei’s hand and walks away without a word.

Jue Fei looks up at the inn, sighs in relief, and hurries after Tong Ye.

“Where are you going?”

 The inn finally returns to quiet, and the onlookers scatter. With Penglai Immortal around, Tiandao Sect and Tianqing Sect can’t do anything to Yun Zhuoran. No one dares provoke him now.

Of course, part of that is thanks to Penglai Immortal’s protection — but Yun Zhuoran’s own strength is the real reason. If Yun Zhuoran’s cultivation had been any weaker, someone would have surely attacked when Penglai Immortal wasn’t watching.

Only when you can stand on your own and have someone to back you up can you intimidate those people.

Night falls quietly.

Yun Zhuoran can’t help but dwell on what Tong Ye said earlier. After Tong Ye left, he asks Penglai Xian if he knows about the connection between Yuncheng and Yun Peiran. It turns out Penglai Xian knows even less than he does. This is because Penglai Xian has been dealing with recurring injuries and has been secluded on Penglai Inner Island for years, focused on recovery. Unless Yun Peiran mentioned it himself, Penglai Xian wouldn’t have known if Yun Peiran ever visited Yuncheng. Instead, it is Song Shao who offers some clues.

Not to mention the righteous sects, even Yun City, far away in the demonic path, is something Song Shao knows a fair bit about.

The current lord of Yuncheng is Yun Tianqing, and his only son, Yun Shaowei, is a well-known cold beauty in the demonic path. Yuncheng’s influence is weaker than Yin Puppet Sect, Demonic Star Sect, and the Demon Palace. Even Yun Tianqing himself is far less powerful than those demon leaders. If not for Yuncheng’s strong foundation and abundant resources, the city would have declined long ago.

As Yun Zhuoran suspects, Yuncheng is indeed connected to the Demon Palace — through family ties. The beloved wife of the Demon Palace Lord is Yun Tianqing’s biological sister and Ji Ruo’s mother. Because of this bond, the Demon Palace and Yuncheng have supported each other for years. However, in recent years, their relationship seems to have faded.

Song Shao doesn’t know the reason, only that Ji Ruo was raised in Yuncheng. Beyond that, he has no more useful information. Eager to redeem himself, Song Shao volunteers to investigate further.

For now, Yun Zhuoran isn’t in a hurry regarding Yuncheng. It seems that even Tong Ye knows about its connection to Yun Peiran, which means many others likely know as well. Compared to that, the floating city ahead seems more pressing.

In just ten days, the floating city might open. And what about Gu Shenshu? Will he appear as well?

Yun Zhuoran knows this is no time to let his guard down.

Suddenly, faint footsteps echo outside the hot spring.

Yun Zhuoran returns to his senses and sees a red figure curled up beside a pillar. He sighs, presses his fingers to his brow, and stands up. The sound of water splashing fills the air, making the red figure tremble and stiffen.

Seeing this, Yun Zhuoran picks up a white shirt from the table, puts it on, and sighs again. “Come here.”

The red figure slowly moves closer, clutching his sleeves tightly. He glances up at Yun Zhuoran before lowering his head and murmuring in a pitiful tone, “I missed you, brother.”

Yun Zhuoran dislikes physical contact with strangers. Whenever he returns from being outside, if conditions allow, he always bathes first. After Tong Ye left, he entered the hot spring pool and didn’t notice how dark the sky had grown.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

The heart demon shakes his head, his voice low and listless. “Brother… is Weiran really stupid?”

Yun Zhuoran realizes belatedly that the heart demon is still feeling guilty about the earlier incident. If not for this reminder, he would have nearly forgotten that he intended to scold the boy. He puts on a stern face, though his tone softens instinctively.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. You should know that if the situation had been different, we might not have gotten out safely… But you’re still young. Learn from this, and don’t get carried away next time.”

The heart demon looks even more remorseful. “I know I was wrong…”

Hearing his strained voice, Yun Zhuoran glances down and notices the heart demon’s face is turned away.

Suspicious, Yun Zhuoran reaches out and gently turns his face. His expression freezes when he sees the heart demon’s red-rimmed eyes, glistening with unshed tears. Yun Zhuoran has a bad feeling.

As expected, the moment their eyes meet, the heart demon’s tears spill over.

“Brother… wuwuwu!”

He has been holding back, but now that his brother shows concern, he can’t help but break down.

In moments, the usually fair and handsome boy is crying pitifully — both heart-wrenching and somewhat amusing.

Yun Zhuoran’s mouth twitches. Feeling both helpless and soft-hearted, he pulls the heart demon into a hug.

The boy buries his face in Yun Zhuoran’s shoulder, his warmth soaking into the fabric.

Yun Zhuoran gently pats his back. “…Why are you such a crybaby?”

The heart demon sniffles and mumbles, “I almost hurt my brother…”

He keeps crying, his mind racing with fear and guilt. His brother is right—if today’s incident unfolds differently, if Wen Jianxian or Tong Ye is present, Brother’s identity might be exposed—and that would be incredibly dangerous. But worst of all, the one who nearly reveals his brother’s identity is none other than himself. Guilt and fear weigh on him heavily, and he can’t help but cry.

Tears keep flowing as the heart demon buries his face deeper into Yun Zhuoran’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.

Yun Zhuoran, unsure how to comfort him, can only wait for the storm to pass.

His eyes gradually become blank. After an unknown amount of time, the sobbing in his ears finally stops, and the heart demon stands up. When Yun Zhuoran comes back to his senses, he finds himself sighing at how much his patience has improved. Then he notices the heart demon rubbing his slightly red and swollen eyes, occasionally sneaking guilty glances at his shoulder.

Yun Zhuoran looks down and sees that the collar of his plain white gown is damp.

He falls silent, unsure whether to be grateful that he hasn’t changed into a full set of clothes earlier or annoyed that he now has to deal with the wet fabric.

Without a word, Yun Zhuoran grabs Weiran’s hand, which is still rubbing his eyes. Seeing those red, puffy eyes, he frowns in mild annoyance.

“Be gentle. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Weiran feels much calmer after crying but blames himself even more. “Brother’s clothes are wet…”

Yun Zhuoran lowers his gaze and points at Weiran’s sleeves. “Weiran’s clothes are wet too.”

Weiran looks embarrassed. “I won’t cry anymore…” He blinks his teary black eyes and adds earnestly, “I’m grown up now, not a child anymore. I’ll remember what happened today. Don’t worry, Brother. I’ll protect you in the future!”

Weiran has said this before, and Yun Zhuoran just smiles faintly.

“You still haven’t given up?”

“How can I give up protecting my brother so easily?” Weiran clenches his fist tightly, trying to look serious despite his flushed face. “I’ll get stronger!”

Whether it’s martial arts or wisdom, he is determined to catch up with his brother as soon as possible.

Yun Zhuoran nods. “Okay.” His response is perfunctory—he can protect the heart demon himself and doesn’t care much about whether Weiran becomes strong or not.

But Weiran isn’t willing to let it go. “Brother, I’m serious!”

He is determined to become truly powerful—not just rely on being his brother’s demonic pet.

Yun Zhuoran nods again. “I know.”

 Weiran opens his mouth as if to say something more but stops himself. His brother’s casual response frustrates him, but remembering how naive and reckless he has been today, he can understand. He decides to wait until he is truly strong—then he will prove himself.

Yet every time Weiran glances up, his eyes keep landing on the damp spot on Yun Zhuoran’s shoulder. The more he looks, the redder his face becomes. His gaze drifts down, and when he notices the loose collar revealing Yun Zhuoran’s delicate collarbone—along with part of his chest faintly visible through the wet fabric—his blush spreads all the way to the base of his neck, leaving him looking thoroughly flustered.

“Brother… Brother…”

Earlier, Weiran has been too overwhelmed to notice. This time, he realizes Yun Zhuoran has just come from his bath, wearing only a long white robe that reaches his ankles.

The robe fits snugly, and after tying the belt, it outlines his slender waist. Though long enough, the slits on both sides expose glimpses of Yun Zhuoran’s pale calves…

Weiran’s face grows even hotter.

Meanwhile, Yun Zhuoran only sees Weiran’s wide eyes and assumes something is wrong. Is he about to start crying again?

Before Weiran can break down, Yun Zhuoran presses a hand against the back of his head, wraps an arm around him, and pulls him into a firm embrace. His expression turns serious.

“If you want to cry, just cry. You can grow up tomorrow.”

Weiran is caught off guard, his face suddenly pressed against his brother’s chest. His face burns fiercely, turning crimson.

“…Cry? I… I can’t cry anymore.”