sjar Chapter 545 Shi Yubai's Script
Chapter 545 Shi Yubai's Script
As time relentlessly flowed by like sand through an hourglass, Shi Yubai felt as if thousands of steel needles were piercing his skull repeatedly, or as if countless gnawing insects were gnawing at his brain marrow. The pain was so sharp that it drove him almost to madness.
He could no longer maintain the aura of a demon lord who looked down upon all living beings. A beastly howl burst from his throat, and his newly grown, ferocious long tail, covered with dark scales, swept out uncontrollably and slammed into the rugged mountain!
"Boom—Rumble—!"
The deafening roar shook the surrounding area, and large sections of the rock face collapsed, scattering rocks like rain and filling the air with dust.
However, this external destruction did nothing to alleviate the turmoil deep within his soul.
Amidst the chaos and excruciating pain, another cold, sharp, and negative voice seemed to echo from the deepest recesses of his consciousness, like a persistent, intractable ailment.
This shouldn't be happening...
This shouldn't be happening...
The sound echoed again and again, carrying a sense of restlessness and rage after fate had been altered.
Countless fragmented images and unfamiliar pieces of memory, like a flood bursting its banks, violently assaulted his existing understanding.
He "saw" another version of himself, walking on a completely different path of destiny—a path where "Shi Yubai" was blessed with good fortune, everything went smoothly, and all obstacles melted away like ice and snow.
In that "script," Liu Jiqian, that bright moon hanging high in the sky, cold and lonely, no matter how radiant it was, was nothing more than a carefully calculated plaything in his hands, which he used various means to guide and bind, and ultimately easily seize.
He ascended to the position of Demon Lord as he wished, and his demon army swept across the cultivation world. All those who had looked down on him and insulted him in the past, whether they were immortals, demons, humans, or monsters, and no matter what their noble status was... all trembled and begged for forgiveness under his demonic power.
That was the path he was meant to follow! That was the unquestionable chapter that fate had already written for him!
However, reality was a mess, full of setbacks and humiliation.
Especially in front of Lu Wensheng, he was repeatedly restrained, and all his schemes failed. The pent-up resentment he felt was in stark contrast to the high spirits he had in his "memory".
These two figures, both "Shi Yubai," intertwined and overlapped, sharing the same face and the same starting point, yet their fates diverged drastically.
It's the same, yet it seems different.
This sense of cognitive dissonance almost tore his soul in two.
He couldn't distinguish which was the real him and which was the illusion he was being fooled into.
In this chaotic and complex landscape of memories, Lu Wensheng's presence stands out as particularly abrupt and jarring.
Lu Wensheng exists in those "memories" yet seems not to exist.
Like an extra stroke of glaring vermilion in a traditional Chinese ink painting, or a discordant note in a perfect musical composition.
His figure was sometimes blurry, like an insignificant speck of dust in the background; at other times, he was so clear that it was startling. With his gentle yet firm demeanor, he blocked his "broad road" time and time again, shattering those "victories" that should have been a matter of course.
He shouldn't exist!
This thought, like a poisonous flame, instantly consumed his reason.
And those so-called chosen ones who surrounded Lu Wensheng, spouting righteousness for the common people and brotherhood, such as Ji Yanli, Wei Xun, Qin Xiao, and Yan Zhaoming... They should have fallen and sunk in their respective destinies, or become stepping stones for his great advancement in demonic arts, or turned to ashes under his great cause of unifying the three realms!
How could they still be standing here unharmed, forming a force that he found troublesome?
He felt that many things had been completely changed, and the thread of fate had broken free from its predetermined course, sliding towards a completely unknown and abhorrent direction.
The scene that he found most unacceptable and most heartbreaking was Liu Jiqian.
His gaze was fixed on the figure in his memory, standing side by side with Lu Wensheng, a figure as aloof as frost and snow.
In those surging "memories," Liu Jiqian ultimately fell into his trap, struggling and sinking under his control. Those eyes, which were always indifferent and detached, ultimately only reflected the image of Shi Yubai, regardless of whether that image was hatred, resentment, or something else.
Why is he with Lu Wensheng? How could he be with Lu Wensheng?
A burning rage, a mixture of intense possessiveness and a sense of betrayal, seared through his very being.
What does the name Liu Jiqian, this existence, mean to him?
It was neither the admiration that people understand, nor any deep affection.
If one were to insist on analyzing it, it would be an extreme, distorted desire for possession and defilement.
He relished every struggle, every outburst of anger, and every loss of composure that the other person caused because of him.
Liu Jiqian's resistance and anger did not make him back down; on the contrary, they gave rise to an indescribable, morbid sense of satisfaction.
Look, this bright moon that once hung high in the sky, its clear light shining everywhere, and this unyielding, frost-chilling sword, are now covered in dust because of him, and their emotions are stirred because of him.
She had once looked down upon him, an ant in the mire, with such an arrogant and unapproachable attitude, but now she could only show powerlessness and anger under his demonic power.
This contrast is exactly what he sought—to fall from self-proclaimed superiority and arrogance into the quagmire that sank with him.
The angrier he became, the more it proved that his existence was deeply etched into his soul and could not be easily erased.
This has nothing to do with love; it's more like a mark, a proof of conquest.
Just like with a rare piece of ancient jade, what the collector pursues is not its inherent warmth and smoothness, but the patina that forms over the years and is unique to them.
The colder and harder the jade itself is, the more the warmth and unique touch it exhibits when warmed in the palm of the hand brings a sense of complete control and intoxication.
A person like him, born with demonic tendencies, rooted in filth and darkness, how could he understand, and how could he practice, the "love" of mutual support and equal respect?
Such a statement, when applied to him, is both naive and laughable.
What he chose was to entwine like parasitic vines, to sever each other's blood vessels, and to suck and merge in pain and bloodshed—look, you are in my life, and I am in your existence, connected by blood, sharing pain, isn't this the ultimate "you are in me, and I am in you"?
To talk about love with someone born a demon is naive and ridiculous, isn't it?
He doesn't really understand love, nor does he believe in it.
In his eyes, all the warmth, loyalty, and sacrifice in the world were nothing more than fig leaves to cover up interests and weakness, false contracts that could be torn up at any time.
All his actions, no matter how persistent they may seem, are driven by a clear purpose; they are all carefully staged performances for others to see.
He was deliberately and clumsily imitating and disguising an emotion called "love".
Because only by wearing this crown called "love" can many unspeakable selfish desires, many cruel and despicable possessivenesses, and many destructive madnesses become justifiable, or even be embellished as a kind of poignant beauty and tragedy.
He needs this disguise to find a seemingly reasonable justification for his behavior, to numb himself, and to try to deceive others.
The torrent of "memory" and the frustration of reality tore at each other apart. Shi Yubai suddenly closed his blood-red demonic eyes. The surging demonic energy around him became increasingly unstable due to the violent fluctuations in his emotions, sometimes expanding like an abyss and sometimes contracting like a needle.
When he opened his eyes again, the turbulent chaos seemed to have been forcibly suppressed, and what replaced it in the depths of his eyes was a kind of almost frozen, eerie clarity.
However, beneath this seemingly calm exterior lies a lurking, undisguised madness, like a venomous snake.
Since something that shouldn't exist exists, disrupting the established timeline, his originally perfect destiny is now filled with thorns and uncertainties...
Then he will personally set things right!
Completely remove all obstructive pieces and forcibly reverse the deviated trajectory back to the "correct" direction.
Whether it's Lu Wensheng, those troublesome geniuses, or any obstacle that dares to stand in his way of "destiny," they will all be reduced to dust under his clutches!
A cold and cruel smile slowly curved his lips, and the power of the Demon Lord surged and spread in all directions like tangible darkness.
This game is far from over, and he will inevitably become the final player, making the decisive move according to his own "script."