After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 10

Evening, Moon-Grasping Peak.

Unbeknownst to many, summer night had already crept in. Twilight was dim and murky, casting the sky in a flowing sea of crimson glow. Beneath the fading sunlight, mountain peaks stretched endlessly like shadows scraping the heavens. A breeze occasionally drifted by, carrying with it the distant cry of a celestial crane—and the ringing voice of a young man:

“Pei Ji wins!”

Perched lazily in a peach tree, Ning Ning let out a yawn at the sound.

Just like various academic competitions in the 21st century, the cultivation world also had inter-sect contests.

Correspondingly, only the most outstanding disciples within a sect could qualify to participate in these inter-sect competitions—like the current one involving the Minor Zhongshan Secret Realm.

The Minor Zhongshan Secret Realm opened only once every fifty years, containing countless rare spirit herbs and demonic beasts. Whether for seizing resources or actual combat training, it was a prime destination.

However, the realm was extremely fragile and could only allow cultivators at or below the Core Formation (Jindan) stage to enter, and the number of participants it could hold was very limited. Over time, it became the perfect battleground for elite Core Formation disciples across sects to compete.

The competition held by the Xuanxu Sword Sect was to select participants for that realm.

Most of the participants were Core Formation cultivators, though occasionally peak Foundation Establishment disciples were seen as well. Ning Ning’s first-round opponent wasn’t much trouble; she won without breaking a sweat. Pei Ji, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky.

After recent cultivation, he had advanced to the third stage of Core Formation, which was already an extraordinary leap. But in cultivation stories, the narrative always favors the underdog and dramatic comebacks. This time, his opponent happened to be a fourth-stage Core Formation cultivator.

In cultivation, even a single minor stage difference could mean a world of disparity in strength. That Pei Ji managed to win spoke volumes about the difficulty of the battle.

Just moments ago, the fierce sword light that had engulfed all Moon-Grasping Peak suddenly faded, slipping into the silence of the falling dusk like wind through leaves.

The young man’s tall, slender figure was stretched straight by the slanted sunlight, and on the deep shadow cast beneath him, drops of terrifyingly bright blood dripped silently.

“To comprehend the Unity Sword Technique at such a young age, impressive, truly impressive.”

On the viewing platform stood a boy of around twelve or thirteen, his features as delicate as a carved jade figurine. His black eyes were like a still, ancient well, yet now rippled with a slight smile:

“The other contestant may have lost, but the force behind his sword aura was formidable as well praiseworthy in its own right.”

Leaning lazily against a stone pillar was Tian Xianzi, dressed in white with a sword at his back. He laughed unrestrained.

“Of course! My disciple—how could he possibly be mediocre?”

“The disciple’s not bad. The master, however,… that’s another story.”

Beside him stood a stunning woman, gently twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

She looked no more than in her early twenties, radiating charm. Her captivating peach blossom eyes shimmered with mischief and amusement as she smiled mockingly:

“That little disciple of yours does have a lovely face. If only I’d met him earlier, he wouldn’t have ended up with a poor nobody.”

Tian Xianzi widened his eyes dramatically, turning to the person beside him:

“Senior Brother, she’s laughing at me!”

Zhen Xiao: …

Zhen Xiao’s face turned stern, like a school disciplinarian making rounds:

“Jing Yi, you are an elder of the Xuanxu Sword Sect, not a demonic cultivator from the Hehuan Sect. Upon seeing handsome disciples, you should maintain the dignity befitting your station.”

The woman snorted coldly and stepped closer to the boy.

“Mind your own business!”

After a pause, her voice softened with a lazy smile:

“Tell me, isn’t it possible that our Lord Sword Sovereign Zhen Xiao is getting jealous because I mentioned another man? Hmm, Sect Leader?”

The boy’s quiet smile didn’t falter.

“Is that so?”

Zhen Xiao’s sword-like brows twitched—whether out of anger or embarrassment was unclear, but the tips of his ears had reddened.

“Elder Jing Yi, fight me!”

Zhen Xiao’s interpersonal skills were famously terrible. He challenged friends to duels to build bonds, beat up children via duels when angered, and when bored, even paid Tian Xianzi just to spar.

At first glance, anyone unfamiliar would never imagine that the enchantingly seductive woman, with beauty bordering on demonic, was none other than Elder Jing Yi, one of the Xuanxu Sword Sect’s top elders—

Nor that the child-sized boy beside her Sect Leader Ji Yunkai.

—Ji Yunkai’s cultivation was severely damaged during the great war between immortals and demons, reverting his body to that of a twelve-year-old. As for Jing Yi, her obsession with attractive people was completely sincere.

“There was also a girl named Ning Ning earlier—very charm—uh, impressive.”

Jing Yi laughed:

“She won cleanly and decisively. Reminded me of my younger days. If she could cultivate under me”

Absolutely not.

Recalling how this woman once toyed with half the sect’s disciples, Tian Xianzi wrinkled his face like a bitter melon. Please don’t corrupt sweet little Ning Ning—she’s never even held a boy’s hand!

“These days, talents are emerging left and right. I hear the Myriad Sword Sect, Brahma Sound Temple, and Liuming Mountain all have interesting new disciples.”

Ji Yunkai narrowed his eyes, the calm and depth in them far too out of place on his childlike face:

“Looks like this round of the Minor Zhongshan trials won’t be boring.”

“But enough of that.”

Jing Yi curved her lips, her voice light and sweet like spring water flowing over peach blossoms.

“One of my disciples just returned from the foot of the mountain with all sorts of treats—custard buns, sugar figurines, candied hawthorn. Interested, Sect Leader?”

The little boy burst out gleefully.

“I want candied hawthorn!”

=====

As for the elders’ conversation, the person at its center—Pei Ji—was completely unaware.

He had declined the medical cultivators’ offer to treat his wounds and returned to his room immediately after the match. The reason was simple.

The demonic energy surging in his body was about to break free.

As the son of a demonic cultivator, Pei Ji inevitably inherited a heavy amount of demonic energy in his body. This power was deeply entangled with his bloodline, clashing and intertwining, making it incredibly hard to control or suppress.

As a result, his demonic energy would frequently surge out like a raging tide, corroding both his body and mind. In those moments, he would suffer from excruciating pain and feel an uncontrollable urge to kill, just to relieve the torment.

By the time the black-clad youth clumsily shut the door, he no longer had the strength to take another step.

The rebellious and violent nature slumbering within his bloodline tore at his nerves again, urging him to go on a killing spree. Pei Ji leaned back against the wooden door, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

He hadn’t fallen so far that he would give in to it.

And he certainly didn’t want to become a monster who knew nothing but slaughter.

Blood still dripped from the wounds left by the sword energy. In a self-punishing act, he pressed his hand against the injury—

And pushed down, hard.

The torn flesh split open even wider under the pressure, and blood gushed out uncontrollably.

But Pei Ji seemed accustomed to this kind of heart-wrenching pain. Standing there with his back slightly trembling, only his tightly bitten lip and the cold sweat on his brow betrayed his suffering.

He refused to kill, so whenever his demonic energy ran rampant, he would cut into himself with a small knife—one gash after another. Pain to combat pain, and to suppress that maddening, skull-splitting desire.

The surroundings were silent, save for the boy’s labored breathing. Dusk crept in from the western mountains, gradually swallowing the courtyard in darkness.

Then, without warning, he heard footsteps.

They were light and quick, quieter even than his own breathing.

No one besides his master, Tian Xianzi, had ever stepped into his courtyard.

Next came a series of knocks on the door, followed by a familiar voice.
“Little junior brother, are you in there?”

The shadow in his heart stirred slightly.

There was no candle lit in the room. In the dim darkness, through the paper-covered window, Ning Ning could only make out a faint silhouette standing inside, bathed in moonlight.

Hearing no response, she hesitated, then knocked again.
“Master asked me to bring you some medicine.”

The girl’s fingers were pale and delicate, and the joints tapped crisply on the wooden door.

The slight knocking caused the wood to tremble almost imperceptibly, the vibrations passing through the door and reaching Pei Ji’s back. A faint, almost imperceptible tingling followed.

Through the thin wooden door, Ning Ning’s knuckles had landed near the center of his chest.

Pei Ji tilted his head back slightly, finally releasing his lip from between his teeth. It took nearly all his strength to speak, and his voice came out hoarse and strained.
“Leave it at the door.”

Outside, Ning Ning seemed to pause, replying with slight hesitation.
“Can’t you open the door? There’s something I need to give you in person.”

His throat moved weakly, and he pressed a palm to the door, the knuckles whitening with the force.

At a moment like this, he shouldn’t have had any patience left.

The pain in his mind and the agony in his body were endless, leaving him no room to think. Pei Ji had a bad temper—on any other day, he would’ve simply ignored her.

But for some reason, he suddenly recalled the image of her bursting into the outer disciple quarters that day.

With his thoughts in chaos, he rasped out a question:
“What is it?”

This time it was Ning Ning’s turn to hesitate.

She paused, seemingly embarrassed to say the name of the object, then lowered her voice in defeat:
“It’s nothing important… I’ll just leave it with the medicine box at the door.”

Pei Ji said nothing, but the hand on the door pressed down even harder.

There was no sound outside for a long time, he assumed she’d left. But suddenly, she softly asked, “Did you keep the Yin Mountain Ghost Pearl, I gave you with you?”

Ning Ning had read the original story and knew he sometimes leaked demonic energy.

Pei Ji wasn’t the type to be so stingy that he wouldn’t open the door for her. He must’ve rejected the healer on the dueling platform and returned to his room for this very reason.

Though the Yin Mountain Ghost Pearl couldn’t completely cure him, it could still help alleviate the pain. If he had just stuffed it in a drawer, that would be a terrible waste.

She spoke in one breath, and only after did she realize something fell off.

Pei Ji didn’t know the Ghost Pearl could suppress demonic energy. From his perspective, she had not only gifted him the bead, but was now insisting he wear it close to him…

It practically sounded like she was giving him a token of affection!

Ning Ning’s ears turned bright red, and she hurriedly explained.
“I heard the Yin Mountain Ghost Pearl can heal illnesses. If you’re out training and accidentally poisoned, it might help save your life.”

The voice in Pei Ji’s mind, Chengying, who usually stayed quiet when the demonic energy surged, suddenly tsked.
“The little girl wants you to wear her love token, Pei Ji.”

Love token?

The boy let out a soft snort. As if the sword wound wasn’t deep enough, he took out a small knife from his robe and stabbed it into his wrist.

There is no love without reason in this world. He and that proud senior sister barely interacted—why would she have feelings for him?

Even if she did like him, it was probably just for his uselessly good-looking face. That kind of cheap affection would disappear in no time.

He wasn’t foolish enough to fall for it.

As he dragged the knife across his wrist, Pei Ji replied indifferently, with a hint of mocking in his tone.
“Thank you, Senior Sister. But the Yin Mountain Ghost Pearl is far too valuable. I, Pei Ji, do not deserve it. Please take it back.”

He didn’t like owing favors. Last time, Ning Ning had turned and run off right after speaking, not leaving him any chance to refuse. Now, he could finally talk things through.

The girl outside the door seemed to grow anxious and raised her voice several notches:
“You saved my life. I ought to repay you. That pearl—”

She hadn’t even finished when a creaking sound echoed in her ears.

Pei Ji opened the door.

He looked utterly disheveled. Bloodshot veins spread like vines across the whites of his eyes, overtaking most of them.

His entire body carried a bloody aura. Dressed in black, with black hair blending into the night, only his pale cheeks were lit by the moonlight—so pale, they seemed to glow.

The thick, ink-like darkness of the night pressed the moonlight down.

But the shadow in Pei Ji’s eyes was even deeper—ferocious, as though he might devour her whole.

“Anyway!”

Ning Ning wasn’t scared of him. She quickly unwrapped the layers of cloth in her hand, revealing a pale-yellow spherical object. Just as Pei Ji opened his mouth to refuse, she tiptoed—

—and shoved it right into his mouth without hesitation.

The thing that entered was incredibly soft and fluffy. Half of it went in, and the thin boy’s cheeks were suddenly puffed up like a steamed bun.

The ferocity on Pei Ji’s face gradually melted, replaced by stunned confusion. He blinked in bewilderment.

Even the remnants of the faint demonic aura froze abruptly, almost as if startled and shy. It spun once in the air before quietly burrowing back into the shadowy darkness.

“No matter what you say, I won’t listen. I told you to carry the pearl, so you must carry the pearl. Otherwise, I—”

She paused for a long while but couldn’t come up with anything threatening. All she could do was glare at him.
“Otherwise, I’ll be super, super mad! And when I’m mad, it’s scary!”

Pei Ji said nothing. He couldn’t say anything.

“Here’s the medicine box.”

She picked it up off the ground and stuffed it into his arms without waiting for a reply. Then pointed at the thing in his mouth.
“That’s a custard bun I bought from someone. You must eat it while it’s hot—that’s why I insisted on delivering it personally.”

She emphasized.
“No spitting it out! Eat it! Do you know how much it cost me? A tenth of everything I own! I’m super poor, okay? Spitting it out would be like slicing the flesh off your senior sister!”

Pei Ji: “…”—he was clearly at a loss for words.

Before he even opened the door, the demonic aura inside him had already mostly dispersed. Now, with the soft, fragrant taste spreading through his mouth, it reached deep into his core, cleansing even the long-accumulated scent of blood.

Probably worried he’d say something foolish after eating, Ning Ning said goodbye and turned to leave, leaving Pei Ji standing alone at the door.

What even was this?

He’d prepared so many ruthless, sarcastic remarks, only to be completely shut down—unable to say a single word.

…Useless.

He couldn’t even manage to scold her.

He tried to force a self-deprecating smile, only to realize the corners of his mouth were too stiff to move. The lingering sweetness swirled on his tongue. Pei Ji held the bottom of the custard bun, took a small bite—

The warm filling spread like thick honeyed liquid, filling his mouth in an instant. His cold, battered body began to warm. He flexed his bloodied, stiff fingertips slightly and leaned against the doorframe.

The moon sank. Three shadows danced.

A boy shrouded in demonic aura puffed out his cheeks and licked the sweet, sticky custard bun.

=====

What Pei Ji would never know was that the first thing Ning Ning did after returning to her room was take out a communication talisman and send a letter to one of the outer sect disciples’ rooms.

The message, written in bold characters.
“Tomorrow at dinner time, Pei Ji’s courtyard. You must act.”

Ning Ning was truly left with no choice.

The system hadn’t issued a task for a long time. But today, it finally did—and it was outrageous.

The original host, envious of how much the elders favored Pei Ji, had developed a strong desire for revenge.

Among the outer sect disciples, there was a wild mix of people running side businesses: covering classes, writing homework—and beating people up.

Despite being so poor, the original host still managed to scrape together her last savings to hire thugs. A true textbook villainess. Ning Ning had to admit she couldn’t compete.

So, she contacted the outer sect quarters, arranged some “business cooperation,” and hired a group to cause trouble in Pei Ji’s courtyard.

Though of course, the story would end with Pei Ji defeating them all alone. But since he’d already been injured in today’s arena battle, the ambush tomorrow would worsen his wounds no matter what.

That was why Ning Ning had spent nearly everything she had to buy the custard bun—as a secret apology gift.

The reply came quickly, concise and clear: [Received.]

But Ning Ning didn’t know one more thing.

She would never have guessed—somewhere else tonight, someone else had sent the exact same letter.

The content was identical, like it had been copied and pasted:
“Tomorrow at dinner time, Pei Ji’s courtyard. You must act.”

=====

So, the next evening, when Pei Ji returned to his residence after dinner, the first thing he saw was a group of seven or eight people gathered at his door.

All of them were at the Mid-Foundation Establishment stage, with hostile glares and masked faces.

“You must be Pei Ji.”

The leader sneered coldly.
“Looks like your luck’s run out. Someone hired us to teach you a lesson.”

His voice was full of certainty, but before Pei Ji could react, another voice boomed in the distance.
“Where is Pei Ji?!”

They looked toward the sound—eight tall men were slowly emerging from the path. Like the others, they were all at mid-Foundation Establishment stage and wore masks.

The two groups stared at each other in confusion.

In their small eyes there was immense puzzlement. Same masks, same formations—it was like a group of cut-and-paste Calabash Brothers.

“What are those people doing here? Did someone among us leak the news, and Pei Ji prepared in advance by hiring bodyguards?”

Someone murmured softly, and immediately, alarm bells went off in everyone’s minds.

They had just surrounded that brat Pei Ji, when another group of fierce-looking men appeared not far away. Judging from their intimidating presence, they clearly weren’t here with good intentions.

The crowd whispered urgently to one another, low murmurs rising and falling like a swarm of bees.

…

“Yo, classic hero saving the beauty, huh? What era are we in that this trope’s still being used?”

“Talking all big—what, even if they know where Pei Ji is, you think they can actually protect him?!”

The leader of the newcomers let out a cold snort, voice booming like a bell: “We’re right here! What do you want?!”

His tone was fierce and forceful, as if he would allow no one to lay a finger on the youth beside him. He even stepped forward, completely shielding Pei Ji behind him.

It was a move of total possession.

—

But to the others, it looked nothing like that.

—Where the hell did this mother hen come from, guarding her egg?

On the other side of the path, the outer sect disciples Ning Ning had invited were also confused. They muttered in hushed tones only their side could hear.

“What’s going on? Why is that guy surrounded by so many people?”

“Could it be Pei Ji knew we were coming and hired people to protect him?”

“He seriously thinks we can’t take them? Thinks hiding behind others will keep us from beating him to a pulp? Hah! Today I’m gonna bash every one of them bloody!”

“What are we planning to do?”

Their own leader also stepped forward, his tone leaving no room for argument: “If you know what’s good for you, step away from him. Otherwise, don’t blame us for being rude!”

“Ho! Masked freaks! If you’ve got guts, come fight me one-on-one! That brat—we’re taking him down today!”

The two groups squared off, tension escalating. No one knew who made the first move, but a wave of killing intent suddenly exploded into the air.

Like a calm lake suddenly struck by a stone, ripples surged outward; the deadlock shattered like broken glass and scattered everywhere.

All at once, people roared and charged forward, fists raised.

Everyone had the same crystal-clear belief in their hearts—so firm, so dazzling it practically radiated light.

Pei Ji, you arrogant brat, who do you think you’re looking down on?!

You think we can’t beat those masked thugs you hired? Just wait. Once we’re done with your bodyguard, it’ll be your turn to die!

They would never know, while they were brawling over who would get to beat him up first, Pei Ji had already quietly turned and gone back to his room. Completely untouched.

Nor would they know—after learning the truth—their tears would fall like torrential rain, shattering on the floor and leaving a very clear message in their hearts.

There’s a lot in this world… that people just don’t know.

…

===

Ning Ning stared expressionlessly at the bill.

Medical fees, hiring fees, emotional damage fees… the hell—there’s even a “friendly reconciliation fee between rival parties”?! Two groups fought like their lives depended on it, and Pei Ji just strolled off to take a nap—and somehow, it’s her fault?

Might as well just rob her.

…

“Why were there two groups?”

Ning Ning felt a massive headache. She scribbled quickly.
“Who sent the other group?”

The reply came quickly.
[We have professional ethics. Normally, we don’t disclose our client’s identity.]

Tch. Tough guy.

Her hand trembled slightly as she held the pen.

When she started writing again, each word was drenched in blood and tears:
“I’ll pay extra.”

A communication talisman soon appeared at Ning Ning’s window.

“——But if you insist, I guess it’s not impossible. I mean, sure, we have ethics… but as you know, we’re not exactly ethical, haha.”

Her face remained blank as she kept reading, her gaze numbly falling on the final three characters.

“He Zhi Zhou.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar. Ning Ning instinctively furrowed her brow and tried to recall what she knew about him.

The more she thought, the more shocked she became.

Senior Brother He—was a mere background character mentioned just a few times in the original novel. And yet, she remembered him clearly.

There were three main reasons why.

…

First, he loved swords more than life itself, always forging or buying them—and blew through money like water on food, wine, and brothels. His poverty was on par with Tian Xianzi’s.

But his brain worked in mysterious ways. When deep in debt and hounded by loan sharks, he spent his last 10,000 spirit stones buying rocks and dye—

—to handcraft a thousand counterfeit coins.

If that wasn’t idiotic enough, the creditor immediately saw through it.

When asked why he made fake coins, the fool replied with a straight face:
“Because I couldn’t make real ones!”

…

Second, he was ridiculously blunt. Anyone he didn’t like, he’d draw his sword on, no matter who they were.

One time, for reasons unknown, he got into a dispute with a seven-year-old monk at Fan Yin Temple.

The monk, true to his Buddhist teachings, sat quietly meditating and refused to fight.

He Zhi Zhou, unwilling to bully a child yet not wanting to back down, stood with sword drawn under the blazing sun and just… stared at him.

Three hours later, he collapsed from heatstroke—foaming at the mouth and deliriously mumbling to the little monk.
“Why are you bullying me…? Why…?”

As for the third thing…

The third was that one event that shocked the entire sect: the Xuanxu Sect disciple, He Zhizhou, driven by poverty, went to a brothel to sell his body and smile for money—and in the end, he even became the top courtesan.

Some claimed that since he possessed sword energy, he should be a cultivator. But the guy didn’t even blink, shamelessly boasting, “I am a disciple of the Ten Thousand Swords Sect. Sir, you have excellent taste!”

No one could’ve predicted that right there at the scene was a true personal disciple of the Ten Thousand Swords Sect, who, without the slightest pity or courtesy, immediately roared, “Ptui! You’re clearly the fake-coin guy from the Xuanxu Sect!”

And thus, the era of this flower courtesan ended abruptly, while He Zhizhou of Xuanxu Sect became infamous across the entire Nine Provinces.

Recalling all this, Ning Ning was left dumbstruck.

There actually existed someone that was insane in the world.

When it came to anything even remotely serious, the man avoided it like the plague!

And yet, despite his outrageous antics, He Zhizhou barely had any presence in the original novel, he almost never interacted with the main cast. For him to suddenly pop up now, stirring trouble…

It was far too strange.

No.

Ning Ning made up her mind—she had to meet He Zhizhou.