Li Chenyuan had always been told that he was worth as much as a dog.
"Go back to the shed," Li Fengguang would spit at him. "You fucking dog!"
So, he had grown up ready to fight anyone, baring his teeth every other moment. When he was still small, he decided that, if he was a dog, people shouldn't be surprised when he acted like one: angry, dirty, skulking, and out of control.
When his uncle had first fallen ill, he hadn't been able to adjust to his new role as the head of the house whatsoever. When accountants were called in to explain to him his financial inheritance, now being the only able-bodied head of the Li household, he refused to speak to them at all and screamed at them to get out when they begged him to sign documents. Even though he understood somewhat what was going on, he was infuriated at the idea of being dressed in silken robes and having to walk around, surveying the property with a haughty look. He'd rather be a dog than become the kind of monster his uncle was.
Eventually, he slowly started to get used to it. He signed documents with expensive brushes, and wore more comfortable silks, pinning his hair up with shiny jewelry. After all, even a dog couldn't sit, growling and doing nothing, while Li Mei grew hungry and began to cry. Besides, he found that he liked looking fashionable. So, even though he resented it, he became a little more comfortable. He locked his uncle away in a faraway wing and continued to live.
Then, the demonic cultivation just had to manifested.
Li Chenyuan had thought he was dying at first, or that he had gone insane; who wouldn't when their chest grew tight, and they started to believe that they could manipulate other people's thoughts? The first time a servant brought him pork stew without him asking and only thinking about it, he thought he had somehow become lucky. The fourth time it happened, he began to be afraid.
But Li Fengguang had recognized what was happening right away, and wrote Li Chenyuan a barely-legible letter with his half-working hands, explaining the nature and history of the ability in great detail. It was a scathing and bitter letter, and Li Chenyuan gripped it in his hands while standing by his uncle's bedside, his face white.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He whispered. His uncle was lying back on the pillows weakly, looking more sickly and like a human stick than ever.
Li Fengguang merely smiled bitterly, showing brittle, yellowed teeth. He could barely speak, but his contemptuous smile was enough.
Unable to get a response out of his uncle, Li Chenyuan lost it threw a lantern at the old man, accidentally nearly burning him to a crisp. After the fire had ben put out by his uncle's personal servant, Li Chenyuan left, tearing the letter to pieces.
Ever since that day, he had been unable to forget that last line his uncle had written:
...you piece of shit nephew, going to become as fucking evil as your father. Fate has smiled on you!...
Strangely, it seemed his uncle didn't care about keeping secrets anymore after that day.
Even though he had refused to talk about Li Chenyuan's father besides insulting him here and there for the past seventeen years, he was suddenly eager to spill every disgusting thing Li Guiren had ever done to his nephew. When Li Chenyuan came to him and demanded to know what evil things his father had done, Li Fengguang smiled with an unsettling glee and began to write.
Even having been locked up in a shed and beaten to a pulp his whole life, Li Chenyuan couldn't stand to read the things his uncle wrote. He threw up in the courtyard while reading about how his father had quickly gone mad from his demonic cultivation, and then assaulted and killed his own sister. He stormed back to his uncle in tears.
"You're lying, aren't you? You were jealous of my father, so you're making shit up! Aren't you?"
Li Fengguang's eyes flashed, and he scoffed, his vocal chords creaking. He opened his mouth to speak, but only stinking air came out.
Li Chenyuan threw the letter in his uncle's face, feeling sick. "Whatever. I don't care! If it's been eleven generations, there must be a way to manage this kind of cultivation. What is it?"
Li Fengguang jerked furiously as the paper hit his face, spittle gathering at the corner of his mouth. Li Chenyuan relished in the sight, feeling darkly satisfied. He couldn't help but feel a cold joy well up in his heart every time he saw his uncle suffer.
After Li Fengguang's rage subsided, he merely smiled at his nephew coldly, eyes glittering gloatingly.
"What is it? Go on, tell me. You were so eager to write before. Write a little more."
Li Chenyuan shoved a paper into his uncle's bony hand, his face cold.
"What's the solution?"
Li Fengguang didn't move.
Li Chenyuan felt his chest beginning to constrict. He called on the demonic qi to gather in his meridians, trying to force a thought into his uncle's head. His own head began to ache, but he ignored it:
You want to tell me how to manage this demonic cultivation. You're eager to tell me. Write everything you know.
Li Fengguang's triumphant expression went slack, his jaw falling open. Drool dripped down his chin, and he began to write. Li Chenyuan sighed in relief, peering over his uncle's shoulder. However, he began to shake when he saw what his uncle had written. It was the same sentence over and over again:
There is no way. There is no way. There is no way...
Li Chenyuan paled, gritted his teeth, and snatched Li Fengguang's collar. "You're lying. You're full of shit."
Li Fengguang merely tilted his head, smiling gloatingly once again as drool pooled in the corners of his lips. Li Chenyuan's hand tightened on his collar in disgust, pulling it taught--tight enough that Li Fengguang's eyes bulged slightly, and he let out a choking noise.
"You piece of shit! Tell me the truth!" Li Chenyuan growled, wrapping a hand around his uncle's throat. Li Fengguang's face went white with fear, and then red from a lack of air. Purple crept up into his cheeks, and Li Chenyuan's hands shook around his uncle's throat, his knuckles white. The demonic qi he had gathered in his meridians began to rise off of him like purple smoke.
A small part of him wanted to let go.
A much larger part of him wanted to crush his uncle's throat to pulp and watch him bleed out on his sickbed.
When it looked like Li Fengguang's eyes were about to roll back into his head, Li Chenyuan released him with difficulty, turning away and wiping at his eyes. His whole body was shaking, and he felt even sicker than before. His vision was blurry, and his head ached, and his hands felt like they weren't his own.
"Whatever. I don't need anything from a piece of shit like you. I'll find a way," He murmured, fiercely wiping tears off his cheeks. "I'll never be like him. Or like you."
Hesitantly, he looked back to see that his uncle was gasping for air and clutching weakly at his own throat--terrified, but still alive. An unfamiliar feeling of relief washed over him.
Before this moment, he had thought that he wouldn't mind killing his uncle one bit. In fact, ever since he was young, he had imagined it many times: pushing him into a lake and holding him under the water, setting his robes on fire, climbing into his room at night with a knife. He had long dreamt of what life might be like if he could only get rid of this man. After all, he definitely deserved it.
But he had a sudden sickening sensation in his stomach at the thought of killing him now.
If he killed his uncle, would he be a step closer to being his father?
Was killing people always considered an evil thing?
Was he already evil for thinking in such a way?
No, no. Li Chenyuan shook his head, storming out of the room. His uncle was a bad man. It wasn't comparable.
But after that day, he couldn't help but lie awake at night, even when he made it to the Jade Clouds Sect. He would often clutch his stomach and look up at the moon, feeling on the verge of tears, unsure of whether he was already a monster.