I Really Like the Male Supporting Character (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 37
Seeing this, Ah Luo hesitantly asked, “Master, wouldn’t it be a problem for you to kill Li Jiaojiao here?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Lu Cang’s voice was calm and unhurried as he carried her out of the cave. He sounded as if the earlier events were truly of no consequence to him.
It was only now that Ah Luo began to notice the strangeness of it all. Why had her master appeared so suddenly? Wasn’t he supposed to be in seclusion? And what had happened to his hair?
“Master, your hair…”
While curled up in the safety of his broad arms, she gingerly reached out to touch a strand of his silvery-white hair that had drifted near her face. The smooth, cool strands slipped between her fingers like snow, and they were cold to the touch.
“It’s nothing,” Lu Cang replied tersely while continuing his steady stride.
With the use of a spatial compression spell, he covered the distance out of the cave in just a few steps.
However, Ah Luo couldn’t shake her unease. She tilted her face up to look at him. His pale features and dark eyes were as she remembered, yet something felt different—there was an unplaceable shift that made her heart waver.
After a long moment of silence, she finally whispered, “How… how did you know I was here?”
She didn’t dare ask the question that followed—’Why did you come to save me?’ She feared the answer might be one she couldn’t bear to hear.
Lu Cang’s gaze, which had been fixed ahead, lowered at last. His deep black eyes settled on her, and for a fleeting moment, Ah Luo thought she glimpsed a hint of dark crimson flicker within their depths.
She was starlet and blinked before looking closer, but the red was gone by then, as though it had never been there in the first place.
“At the Great Ascension realm, one can naturally sense all things,” Lu Cang lightly told her while looking at her deeply.
Ah Luo pondered this. It sounded reasonable. After all, Lu Cang was a Daoist master. If his disciple was on the brink of death, he wouldn’t ignore it.
Surely, he had only come because she was his disciple—nothing more, nothing less.
This conclusion left her heart heavy. She lowered her head. The disappointment pressing against her chest felt more unbearable than the pain from Li Jiaojiao’s earlier attacks. Her lashes grew damp, and a subtle redness rimmed her eyes.
What Ah Luo didn’t realise was that, at this very moment, the outwardly composed and stoic Lu Cang was enduring an agony far beyond her understanding.
Lu Cang hadn’t lied—at the Great Ascension stage, a cultivator could indeed sense the movements of the world around them, particularly when something deeply connected to them was at stake.
In truth, he had been deep in seclusion for over a year. Within his Ice and Snow Dao domain, the stubborn cherry blossom tree had remained a constant presence. It stood tall and defiant amidst the frigid desolation, silent yet unyielding, though its very existence was an affront to his will.
Neither frost nor snow had been able to destroy it. Under the crushing weight of his spiritual suppression, it had bent only slightly and shrunk by barely an inch.
Lu Cang had believed that with time—perhaps a hundred or a thousand years—he could finally force the tree underground and erase it entirely.
However, just as he had formed this resolve, an overwhelming sense of dread pierced through him and dragged him abruptly out of his meditative state.
In that instant, he sensed everything.
The moment he became aware of his disciple’s life hanging by a thread, a sharp pain tore through his heart.
Within the Ice and Snow Dao domain, the cherry blossom tree, which he had painstakingly suppressed, surged in defiance. Its branches extended skyward, its buds burst into full bloom, and in the blink of an eye, it grew from the height of a person to a towering hundred zhang. (2-21)
Countless petals scattered and turned the once-pure snowy plain into a world painted in shades of pink and white.
This transformation happened in a mere instant. At the same time, Lu Cang’s black hair turned white as snow, and his Dao heart teetered on the brink of collapse.
Yet, no matter the turmoil raging within, outwardly, he remained the same cold, untouchable Daoist master—serene, unyielding, invincible.
No one could see the storm hidden beneath his placid exterior.
Ah Luo couldn’t see the carnage that had taken place moments earlier, and neither could Li Yu, who had arrived in a blind fury after sensing his daughter’s soul-nurturing lamp had extinguished, signalling her death.
While pale-faced and trembling with rage, Li Yu blocked Lu Cang’s path. His voice was hoarse with hatred as he bellowed, “Lu Cang! You’ve harmed my daughter again and again, and now you’ve scattered her very soul! This grudge between us is irreconcilable—I, Li Yu, will never rest until I see you dead!”
Lu Cang’s tone was as cold and sharp as clashing steel, and his arrogance palpable, as he said, “Perfect timing. Your daughter harmed my beloved disciple multiple times. Let us settle everything today.”
Even as he spoke, he did not set down the girl in his arms. With one hand securely cradling Ah Luo, he raised his free hand to prepare for battle. He seemingly intended to face Li Yu with just a single hand.
Ah Luo was anxious. She could no longer care about her own sadness now and looked worriedly at the scene in front of her.
She couldn’t help suggesting, “Master, maybe… you could put me down first?”
Lu Cang dismissed her concern with a shake of his head. He said, “No need.”
Li Yu knew that his beloved daughter’s soul had been shattered, and she would never have another chance to reincarnate. However, even though he was consumed by grief and rage, he knew he was no match for Lu Cang. Though his daughter’s death devastated him, and his rationality was fraying, he retained enough clarity to realise that, as a mid-stage Void Return realm cultivator, he stood no chance against Lu Cang’s late-stage Great Ascension realm power.
Desperation drove him to take out a pill, which he swallowed in one swift motion.
The moment the pill entered his body, his aura surged dramatically. His power leapt to the Great Ascension stage, and he bypassed the tribulation entirely.
However, the cost was immediately apparent—his youthful features withered in an instant, and his hair turned stark white. The once vibrant man in his thirties now appeared as a haggard elder, and his face was etched with deep lines of wrinkles.
Ah Luo’s sharp eyes caught on to what had happened.
It was clear to her that Li Yu had consumed a supreme-grade Blood Essence Pill, which was usually a desperate measure for cultivators at death’s door. While the pill temporarily boosted cultivation levels, it drained the user’s blood essence and soul, and in consuming it, the user effectively sacrificed their lifespan for power. This method, though extreme, was a last resort and never widely used, as its consequences were irreversible. Otherwise, it would have been considered a divine elixir.
While Li Yu’s cultivation surged, Lu Cang stood unmoving. A faint air of indifference surrounded him. He made no effort to interrupt the transformation process, and his stance remained calm and unperturbed throughout the entire thing.
This composure exuded an unspoken arrogance. It was as if he were stating plainly that, even at the Great Ascension stage, Li Yu would still be no match for him.
And the truth was, Lu Cang had every reason to be so arrogant.
Li Yu’s eyes were bloodshot as he charged at Lu Cang. When Li Yu attacked, though, Lu Cang stood silently and merely raised his free hand before spreading his fingers. His palm unleashed his Ice and Snow Dao domain with effortless precision.
Li Yu, a fire elemental root cultivator and a renowned alchemist, was ill-suited for combat. His domain of molten lava spanned only ten li, and it was also still a far cry from perfection. (2-22)
His strategy relied heavily on his wealth of treasures and talismans, which he hurled recklessly at his opponent in a display of brute force.
By contrast, Lu Cang’s approach was almost deceptively simple.
When his Ice and Snow Dao domain emerged, it unfolded as a vast, boundless snowy plain that rapidly spread in all directions. Blizzards raged, snow fell relentlessly, and freezing winds howled through the landscape. Everything in its path—birds, beasts, trees, and the earth itself—was encased in frost.
Within moments, the entirety of Dan Peak and the surrounding hundred li were transformed into an icy wasteland. (2-23)
Li Yu’s molten lava domain, which had barely begun to bubble, froze solid in an instant. Even Li Yu himself turned ghastly pale as the frigid air assaulted his body. Worse still, the sky was suddenly filled with countless razor-sharp ice spears that materialised seemingly from nowhere and rained down upon him relentlessly.
The battle ended swiftly. Even with the temporary boost to the Great Ascension realm, Li Yu was no match for Lu Cang’s overwhelming strength as a late-stage Great Ascension realm cultivator.
The higher the realm, the more insurmountable the gap between sub-stages became.
Li Yu struggled desperately to evade the relentless onslaught, but after mere moments, a translucent ice spear pierced through his chest. He collapsed onto the snow-covered ground. His blood stained the pristine white surface, and soon, his body became unmoving.
The grudge was settled. Li Yu would never rise again.
From beginning to end, Lu Cang remained utterly composed. His demeanour remained icy and detached.
Killing a fellow sect member didn’t elicit even the slightest ripple of emotion from him—he hadn’t so much as blinked.
While on the brink of death, however, Li Yu suddenly burst into wild, unrestrained laughter. Blood gushed from his lips as he roared, “Lu Cang! Your Dao is ruined! That once pure and flawless Ice and Snow Dao domain of yours has been tainted with colour. What of your illustrious reputation as a Daoist master? A single misstep, and you’ll meet your end—your Dao will collapse! I’ll be waiting for you in the underworld!”
With these parting words, his body went limp, and he died.
In the endless expanse of the frozen wasteland, the white-robed man stood alone, with his back straight and his silver hair streaming in the cold wind. His expression, framed by sharp brows and dark eyes, grew even more solemn and impenetrable.
Ah Luo, in a daze, reached out her hand. In her palm, a pale pink cherry blossom gently landed. Her voice trembled as she asked, “Master, why… Why is there a flower in your Ice and Snow Dao domain?”
Lu Cang lowered his gaze. His face, starkly pale, seemed almost translucent. His cold eyes fixed on the tiny blossom that was no larger than a thumb. After a long silence, his hoarse and low voice broke the stillness. He said, “I don’t know.”
Slowly and deliberately, he continued, his words measured and heavy, “It rooted itself and began to grow at the center of my Dao heart. I’ve tried everything to suppress it, but no matter what I do, I cannot move it. I cannot shake it in the slightest. Perhaps… it was always meant to grow here. Perhaps… it belongs to this snowy plain.”
As his voice fell silent, a fissure abruptly split the thick snow behind them. From the crack, a tiny green sprout emerged. It quickly took root and sprouted branches. In mere moments, it grew into a towering cherry blossom tree. Its flowers bloomed in dazzling pink and white.
The tree stood proudly on the snow-covered plain. As if sensing its newfound acceptance, it scattered a joyful cascade of petals, which floated gently down onto Ah Luo, onto Lu Cang’s silvery hair, and across the frozen landscape.
As Ah Luo stared at the falling blossoms, her heart trembled violently. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilt over. They felt scalding hot against her cheeks.
When she saw the tree, she understood. The thing she had longed for, agonised over, had come to belong to her without her realising it.
“Master…” she whispered.
For the first time, she grasped his robes tightly, burying her face in his chest without hesitation or restraint as tears welled up in her eyes again.
As she expected, he didn’t push her away or put her down.
“Why are you crying?” His voice, cool and puzzled, reached her ears.
Ah Luo tilted her tear-streaked face upward. Her reddened eyes and nose were tinged with the unfiltered joy that radiated from her smile. She hooked her arms around his neck and tugged insistently, drawing his face closer until their eyes met.
“This disciple of yours is crying tears of joy, Master. Do you understand that?”
Lu Cang fell silent. After a long pause, though, he murmured a low, “Mm.”
He resumed walking. Ah Luo clung to him tightly and rested her head carefully on his shoulder. Her voice was soft as she asked, “Master, where are we going?”
“To the Far North.”
The burst of happiness that had clouded Ah Luo’s mind began to subside, and her expression turned serious. “Is it… is it what Elder Li said? That your Dao has encountered a problem?”
Before Lu Cang could answer, a commanding voice rang out. “Daoist Master Lu Cang, please stop.”
Lu Cang halted in his tracks. His cold gaze lifted to meet the speaker.
“Do you intend to stand in my way too?” he asked icily.
Not far ahead, dozens of figures hovered midair. Their presences were overwhelmingly powerful—these were the elite elders of Guiyuan Sect, each one at the Great Ascension stage.
At the forefront was Immortal Dao Yuan, the sect’s leader. His expression was solemn as he addressed Lu Cang. “Lu Cang, you killed Elder Li Yu and his daughter Li Jiaojiao. While this should warrant punishment, considering Elder Li provoked you first, we will let this matter rest.”
“But,” he continued, his tone hardening as his gaze sharpened, “we suspect that you and your disciple, Lin Luoyin, have formed a romantic attachment. Daoist Master, is this true?”