Fox Demon Cultivation Manual [ BL ]

Chapter 96

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In these four years, Song Ci had walked through many places, and suffered through many pains. He was once the young master of the Liang Clan, yet he later ended up living and sleeping rough. He had experienced all the sufferings of the secular world, even being hunted down by various demons. 

He had bore grudges more than once against the demonic fruit that had turned him the way he was now, even blaming the Demon King by extension. But in that segment of memory that he had chosen to forget, there was a belated truth—this was all his own choice.

Regardless of whether he became a demon who had to endure being chased and hunted from all over, or that the latter half of his life would come to be intertwined with that smiling man in his mind, these were all the choices he made. It was not just out of the helplessness of being faced with death, but also of his strong desire to break free of this home. 

He was already tired of everything in his former life. He desperately wanted a new identity and a new life to smooth over the chasm that would never be filled in his heart.

It was a decision he had made when he had never been more sober. But somehow, whether due to the demonic fruit or some other reasons, he later came to forget about that portion of memory.

As he held a wretched Madam Liang in his arms and burst into tears, he wondered if he was liberating himself from his past, or if he had come to a decision regarding his future.

It had always been the case since time immemorial that tears of reunions were hard to stop. This scene more or less moved the people around them. Madam Liang cried until she almost breathed her last. She pulled Song Ci and headed for the front courtyard. “Quick! Go see your father. If he knows you are back, he will be very happy!”

Song Ci let her pull him along as they passed through familiar paths to come before Liang Bing’s bed. 

Liang Bing had been incurably ill for a long time. He was merely hanging on with the help of medicine and because of his pining for Song Ci. The din Madam Liang created when she barged through the door was loud, but Liang Bing only had the strength to open his eyes.

Liang Bing had aged even more than Madam Liang. In just four years, his hair had gone gray, and his face was wrinkled. He barely seemed alive. He opened his eyes to take a quick glance at the recent arrivals, then closed them again as if he could not keep them open. 

On seeing his father in this state, Song Ci carefully kneeled by the side of the bed. Afraid that his voice would startle him, he said in a hushed tone, “Father, I’m back.” 

The word “father” seemed to penetrate through the layers of fog in Liang Bing’s mind, awakening the consciousness that had been sealed away at the bottommost layer. He opened his eyes again, this time more urgently. Eyes that could hardly see moved back and forth across Song Ci’s face. The more he looked, he more certain that the man before him had familiar facial features. 

He let out a wail in the hoarse voice of a dying man as he slowly pieced together a word, “My son—”

He held out his hand in an attempt to touch Song Ci’s face.

The distinction between those born of the legitimate wife and concubines in the Liang Clan was not that obvious. Liang Bing might be of shu birth, but ever since his birth, he had been the esteemed Eldest Young Master of the Liang Clan. He had only ever held a blade and a brush with his hands. Even over the age of thirty, he had never once looked old. But at this moment, his hands were so skinny they were a bag of bones. His bony joints jutted out, covered with a layer of old skin that was so white that it was frightening. It was a shocking sight to behold.