This Damned Thirst for Survival

Pale fingers wove through the hair, the swan’s neck looming in the shade. Feng Li looks down at him, his loose hair pooled together, some of it rather dishevelled.

He simply reached out his hand and helped his disciple brush his hair.

The bony hands of a mature man wearing a jade trigger finger smoothed out strands of hair that had been induced to fly by static electricity.

On one side was the funeral shop owner who was standing and watching, he offered a pair of scissors, ” Jiang Luo , how short do you want it cut?”

Jiang Luo sidles up to look down his spine.

For the better part of a year, his hair has grown longer and longer, like crazy, and is now almost under his shoulder blades. It was already quite inconvenient, and Jiang Luo’s good looks were all that was needed to hold up his long hair, which has now become even more inconvenient.

He said casually, “Cut it all out.”

The funeral shop owner staggered, “What do you mean by full cut?”

Jiang Luo suggested, “An inch?”

He thought he would look better with an inch.

Feng Li pursed his lips in a rare moment.

Jiang Luo’s long hair, which he had never looked after with much care, was of excellent quality, as smooth and beautiful as a length of satin, and with the tears of the ginseng spirit it had risen sharply from its already good layers and grown a great deal longer. It was a shame to cut off such good hair like that.

He gathered his hair, picked up his scissors and made the first clean cut from the bottom of his hair.

“Click,” the broken hair fell to the floor.

Jiang Luo smiles pleasantly as he listens to this pleasant sound, from an unseen angle.

Usually when he wants to cut his head, Chi You always comes to interfere.

Hahahahahahahaha, Jiang Luo was about to burst out laughing, so happy!

Feng Li is the first time he has done a haircut for someone else, but he is very steady. Even when the funeral shop owner kept telling him “hey the left side is a bit long …… no no no the right side is sticking out a bit …… side side” it didn’t bother him.

He quickly stopped his hand, “There.”

“Okay?” That was too soon, Jiang Luo looked back to see long hair that wasn’t much shorter sliding arrogantly over his shoulder once more, “……”

Feng Li’s voice rang out with implied satisfaction, “Not bad.”

“It’s nice,” the funeral shop owner hailed, “It’s better than an inch.”

Jiang Luo silently looked down and saw that the hair that had fallen on the floor was only about five centimetres long, more like a repair than a haircut.

Jiang Luo would have been tempted to do it himself if he hadn’t remembered that he’s still living the persona of a bland chrysanthemum.

The undertaker burned the hair on the ground and, seeing Jiang Luo’s smiling face, came up to him and said, “It’s good to have longer hair, just enough to cover the dementor pendant. Neither your master nor the Fatalist will pay attention to such trivial matters, so if it’s covered up, they won’t ask.”

In the back, Feng Li frowned at their closeness.

Jiang Luo’s relationship with Ji Yaozi seems to have been even more intimate than that of his proper master.

After all this nonsense, it was time to clean up the filth. Previously Jiang Luo had gone alone, but today Feng Li and the funeral shop owner were added to the team.

The undertaker was indeed already waiting at the spring pool, and Feng Li’s face became even more condensed the moment he saw the undertaker. The undertaker kept his head down and did his best to reduce his presence.

The atmosphere was a little oppressive, but the predestined man said, as if he did not notice, without surprise, “You are here.”

Without exchanging pleasantries, Feng Li said directly, “Why do you want him to make Xiaoquan Pond?”

He sent Jiang Luo into Lian’s house just to plainly cleanse him of the filth from the evil spirits that had infested him.

As soon as Feng Li spoke, neither the undertaker nor Taoist Master Wei He dared to speak. But the fatalist was not angry and said with a smile, “The filth on him is too heavy for the water under the mountain to wash him away.”

Jiang Luo looks on quietly at the two men.

A sneer crossed Feng Li’s eyes, “You’ve dripped your blood in it.”

The predestined explained in a warm voice, “It will be better for him.”

After a pause, the host added, “You haven’t been on the mountain for a long time, so if you’re not sure, join Jiang Luo for a wash to cleanse you of the filth of all these years as well.”

At these words, Feng Li looked to Xiaoquan Pond, who was silent for a moment and said lightly, “That’s it.”

With that, he lifted his steps into the pool.

Of all the people standing here, Jiang Luo is the only one wrapped in a down jacket and dressed like an ordinary person. Feng Li, today dressed in a white crane tang suit on a black background, slowly spills out of his side as he gets into the water, and is cleansed by the pool. Jiang Luo saw this and also took off his coat to get into the hot water.

The dirt on his body was much more powerful than Feng Li’s. Even after Feng Li, his expression shows a little surprise.

The fatal man stood far from the edge of the pool, speaking through the mist of the water, “Without my blood, the taint on him would never be washed away.”

Feng Li twirled his jade trigger finger, the corners of his mouth picking up in mockery, “Tian Shifu cannot thank you enough for your dedication to my disciple.”

Feng Li has always been a bit of a sharp-witted man, and today he was all over the Fates. Jiang Luo always felt that there was something between Feng Li and the Fates.

His eyes rolled, Feng Li put his hands behind his back and turned to him, “Find a place to soak.”

It was not as if he had come to cleanse his body, but rather to supervise Jiang Luo. Jiang Luo sat down in a familiar place and began to watch the water to see the effect of the Dementor’s pendant.

The few strands of black hair around his ears were wet with the mist of water, dripping stickily and greasily. Jiang Luo saw the black water coming from his body constantly being forced back by purification, but his sanity was not much affected.

As he was watching intently, Feng Li’s voice came from beside him, “What’s that hanging from your ear?”

Jiang Luo withdrew his eyes to see the tall man standing in the mist, frowning slightly, seemingly unhappy at the fact that he had an extra thing in his ear out of nowhere.

The funeral shop owner had clearly said that Feng Li and the fatalist would not care about such a trivial matter, but looking at Feng Li’s face, he was more than concerned, he was furious.

I almost forgot, Feng Li is a man with a strong desire to control. But Jiang Luo is only his disciple, and what does he care if his disciple has an extra earring in his ear?

Jiang Luo slowly lifted his lips, which were moistened by the mist of water, as if they were coated with red flower juice, he smiled softly, “A friend gave me these earrings, I think they look good on me, don’t you, sir?”

As he said this, he seemed to feel that it was not enough. He turned his head sideways, facing Feng Li with his left ear wearing a demented pendant, and reached out to hook the obtrusive strands of hair behind his ear, revealing a white, thin ear.

Jiang Luo’s earlobe has been pierced and Jiang Luo’s technique in putting the earring on was so ruthless that, although not much blood was wasted, the hole is now slightly swollen and red with blood.

Feng Li looks at his earrings with a puzzled expression.

Jiang Luo is still smiling self-effacingly, “It happens to be my birthday in half a month, a gift from a friend, it’s all a token of appreciation.”

He wasn’t lying, the original was born during the winter New Year.

Feng Li said, “Birthday?”

He reached out and touched the dementor pendant when Jiang Luo was caught off guard.

Jiang Luo’s smile froze for a moment before returning to its original form, “My disciple’s birthday is in January.”

Jiang Luo originally wanted to use the Dementor’s Pendant to see the inner workings of the Fatal Man, but Feng Li intervened. But Feng Li is a good candidate, and Jiang Luo is curious to see what he has in store for him.

Jiang Luo looks up at Feng Li and after meeting those deep eyes, his mind goes blank for a moment and his soul seems to come out of its shell, with the help of the dementor pendant, and enters Feng Li’s inner vision.

In the blink of an eye, Jiang Luo felt like he was in another dimension, so light that his body felt insubstantial. Jiang Luo looked down at his hands and feet and sighed for a few seconds at the wonderful sensation before looking up and around.

A large Tian Shifu is all that exists in a blank interior.

Should I say Feng Li? It’s true that Tian Shifu is the most important of all.

Jiang Luo instinctively knew that the Dementor Pendant would only allow him to see someone’s mental picture for three minutes. Without much delay, he quickly ran towards the place he was most curious about.

–The ghost of a woman held under the confinement cell!

Jiang Luo’s speed was so fast that the confinement cell was in an extremely remote location in Tian Shifu, and if he hadn’t been faster, it would probably have been time to run there.

A minute and a half later, Jiang Luo managed to make his way to the confinement cell. The door to the confinement cell was locked and Jiang Luo kicked it open to the familiar ventilation ducts.

Jiang Luo’s eyes glowed, his excitement at the prospect of discovering Tian Shifu’s secrets completely igniting his passion, and he kicked open the entrance to the ventilation duct in the same way, bending down and crawling inside.

Last minute to go.

Jiang Luo accelerated his pace and quickly found the air vent of a room, which he removed and jumped through into the extremely well hidden basement.

The dark-haired youth landed in style as he clapped his hands together and quickly looked around.

In the corner, a crazy woman with tattered clothes and dishevelled hair has chains baking in her hands. She stares blankly at Jiang Luo, her fingernails sharp and hiding black sludge. The room smells awful, the floor littered with rubbish and dark clumps of mud, the walls speckled with moss and mould and smelling of over-damp mould.

Jiang Luo takes a quick look around and then walks up to the crazy woman with a clear objective. Ignoring the woman’s mouth that kept opening wide to bite him and her arms and legs that seemed to flail at him like mad, he lifted the woman’s hair out of her mess and lifted her head to get a better look at her.

This woman’s face was half destroyed, her form horrific and appalling. But between her eyebrows, there were a few shades of familiarity.

“You-” Who are you.

Before he could finish his sentence, Jiang Luo’s eyes went white again and the next moment, the person he was looking at became Feng Li.

The stench disappears and the smell of spring water hits you.

He emerged from Feng Li’s interior.

Feng Li doesn’t seem to notice anything as he faintly withdraws his hand. But then his hand is suddenly taken by Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo looked intently at Feng Li as he took Feng Li’s hand and said gently, “Sir.”

Feng Li was pulled to the point where he needed to bend down. He didn’t know what to think, but he actually bent down in response to Jiang Luo’s force.

Jiang Luo’s pretty face, a mixture of beauty and good looks, caught Feng Li’s eye.

Water droplets dangle from Jiang Luo’s brow, sliding out in a clear, sinuous trail like a gradual smear of ink.

Jiang Luo stopped pulling Feng Li closer when the two men were down to the last inch of their arms.

He looked at Feng Li intently, as if Feng Li was the only person he could look at at the moment, his eyes sprinkled with the brilliance of gold flakes. Gradually, the corners of his lips lift, and a few glimpses of malice fade into the background.

“Sir,” he said with a bland smile, as if in admiration, “you have such a good-looking brow.”

The smile turns deep.

The original crazy woman who was locked up.

It’s Feng Li’s mother!