Chapter 74: Different
This was the first time Bai Jingxue had seen Ying’s true form. In the original story, after ripping out her own core, Ying had been bound to the male lead’s wrist, her potential wasted.
Bai Jingxue stared at the enormous pink dragon soaring above them. Her horns were as white as jade, her scales a delicate shade of pink, like cherry blossoms, shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight.
But Bai Jingxue wasn’t particularly interested in those details. Her gaze was fixed on the dragon’s five claws.
Ying descended, hovering close to the ground. “Hop on,” she said.
Bai Jingxue, pulling Lü Qingyan along, climbed onto Ying’s head. When she had been a cat, she had often perched on Lü Qingyan’s head. The dog’s fur had been soft and warm, a comfortable resting spot.
But a dragon was different. Perhaps it was the scales, but sitting on Ying’s head was hard and cold. Bai Jingxue felt like she was back in high school, sitting on a freezing cold bench during winter.
Ying, oblivious to Bai Jingxue’s discomfort, warned them, “Hold onto my horns. Don’t get thrown off.”
They obeyed, but the moment their hands touched her horns, she took off.
She flew so fast that Bai Jingxue felt the wind whipping against her face, making it impossible to speak.
Thankfully, she had learned a few spells. She quickly created a barrier around herself and Lü Qingyan. The moment the barrier closed, they were safe.
Lü Qingyan wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice laced with concern. “Are you okay, Jingxue?”
“I’m fine.”
The scenery was a blur. All Bai Jingxue knew was that they eventually landed on a beach.
Ying set them down, her body enveloped in white light. A moment later, she transformed back into her human form, landing gracefully beside them.
A small crab, scuttling along the beach, reached Lü Qingyan’s feet and was promptly captured.
Lü Qingyan lifted the crab, pinching its claw, then yelped as it pinched her finger. She threw it back into the ocean, her voice filled with annoyance. “Damn it! That hurt!”
Ying, watching this exchange, chuckled. “That little guy said the same thing,” she said.
Bai Jingxue, her brow furrowed, realized something. “You can hear its thoughts?” she asked. “Can you hear the thoughts of all animals?”
Ying nodded. “Yes,” she said. “But I need to use a spell to hear their thoughts. If they speak directly, I can understand them.”
Bai Jingxue’s eyes widened in alarm. She quickly backed away from Ying, her expression wary. “Can you hear my thoughts?”
Ying, seeing Bai Jingxue’s reaction, quickly reassured her. “Of course not! I can’t use that spell on transformed demons!”
Bai Jingxue stared at her for a long time, her gaze skeptical, then finally, she decided to believe her.
But they were here for the secret realm. All she could see was the vast expanse of the ocean. There was no sign of a secret realm.
She closed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze fixed on the ocean. The space beneath the surface seemed distorted. Was the secret realm there?
Her question was soon answered. Ying extended her hand, and a silver spear materialized, its tip adorned with red tassels, its shaft curved like a crescent moon.
She twirled the spear, then, her expression turning serious, she leaped into the air, her weapon slicing through the surface of the ocean.
The water erupted, then parted, revealing a path.
Bai Jingxue’s eyes widened. Ying hadn’t simply parted the water. She had torn a rift in space.
Ying tossed the spear aside, its form dissolving into shimmering particles.
Darkness surged from the rift, accompanied by the wails of ghosts, the laughter of women, and the roars of beasts.
Lü Qingyan shuddered, goosebumps erupting on her skin. “Are we really going in there?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
Her tail tucked itself between her legs.
Bai Jingxue, seeing Lü Qingyan’s fear, felt a surge of sympathy.
But her sympathy was short-lived. She suddenly felt herself lifted into the air, her feet leaving the ground.
Lü Qingyan experienced the same sensation. They turned to see Ying grinning at them, her teeth gleaming white. She was holding them by their collars, her body hovering in the air.
A bad feeling settled in Bai Jingxue’s stomach. “Hey!” Ying shouted, her voice cheerful. “Off you go!”
She tossed them into the rift.
Before they could even react, they were tumbling through darkness.
Ying clapped her hands together, her voice filled with amusement. “Alright, I’ll wait here for them to come out.”
“Aaaahhhh!!!”
Lü Qingyan’s scream made Bai Jingxue cover her ears. They were plummeting towards the ground.
Bai Jingxue tried to use her techniques, relieved to discover that they worked. She pulled Lü Qingyan towards her, slowing their descent, then, after what felt like an eternity, they landed.
She cautiously scanned their surroundings, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Countless pairs of glowing red eyes stared back at them, their gazes filled with hunger.
Her heart pounding, she took a deep breath, then unleashed a burst of fire, its golden-red flames illuminating the darkness, incinerating their attackers.
Screams of pain echoed through the air, the stench of burning flesh filling their senses.
She suddenly felt something wrap around her waist. She looked down to see Lü Qingyan clinging to her, her body trembling.
Bai Jingxue was confused. Lü Qingyan wasn’t usually this timid. She patted Lü Qingyan’s head, her voice soothing. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m here.”
But Lü Qingyan only clung tighter, whimpering, “I’m scared.”
Her voice was so pitiful that Bai Jingxue’s heart melted. She was about to pat Lü Qingyan’s head again when she noticed the dog’s tail wagging furiously.
Bai Jingxue stared at her, speechless.
Which dog wagged its tail like a fan when it was scared? This dog was clearly delighted!
Realizing she had been tricked, Bai Jingxue squeezed Lü Qingyan’s ear. “Still trying to fool me?” she asked, her voice dry.
Lü Qingyan’s tail, which had been held high, instantly drooped between her legs. This time, she was truly afraid.
She released Bai Jingxue’s waist, trying to free her ear from Bai Jingxue’s grasp.
She had simply wanted to cuddle. How had Jingxue seen through her act?
She grabbed Bai Jingxue’s wrists, her eyes pleading. “I’m sorry, Jingxue,” she whimpered.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll do it again. And I’ll be even more shameless.”
That was the Lü Qingyan Bai Jingxue knew.
She wasn’t really angry. She released Lü Qingyan’s ear.
She rubbed her fingers together, enjoying the soft, fluffy texture.
But this wasn’t the time for ear-petting. She retrieved a stick from the ground, then ignited it with her fire breath, creating a makeshift torch.
Lü Qingyan, rubbing her ear, couldn’t help but comment, “You look like a street performer, Jingxue.”
Those words brought back unpleasant memories of being surrounded by a pack of wolves, forced to perform for their amusement.
She glared at Lü Qingyan, then, ignoring her, walked towards the source of the burning smell, her torch illuminating the darkness.
She suddenly realized that this wasn’t ordinary darkness. It was a black mist.
Her heart sank, and she shouted, “Hold your breath!”
Lü Qingyan quickly covered her nose, her voice muffled. “What’s wrong?”
Bai Jingxue didn’t answer. The black mist, fearing the flames, retreated slightly, revealing the source of the burning smell.
Several skeletons lay scattered on the ground, their shapes suggesting they had once been beasts. Bai Jingxue wasn’t an expert on animal anatomy, but the fact that their bones had survived her flames was unusual.
Perhaps the black mist was the key.
As she pondered this, the bones suddenly began to move.
Ying, bored, yawned, then, to entertain herself, she gathered all the crabs on the beach, stacking them into a tower.
Facing a dragon, the crabs didn’t dare to move, resigned to their fate.
But even this amusement grew tiresome. She released the crabs.
Just as she was wondering how to spend her time, she caught a whiff of demonic energy.
A moment later, she heard a woman’s voice, filled with panic. “Help!”
Her eyes lit up, and she stood up, brushing the sand from her clothes, eager to investigate.
She flew towards the source of the sound, finding a small fox trapped in a demon-binding formation. It hadn’t transformed yet, its tiny body struggling against the restraints.
There was no one around. The trap had been set, but the hunter hadn’t arrived yet.
But this little fox was weak. Why had it left the safety of the forest and ventured to the coast?
Ying pondered this, then gave up, simply breaking the formation.
The fox, surprised by its sudden rescue, sensed Ying’s dragon aura and bowed its head respectfully. “Thank you for saving me, Your Excellency,” it said.
Ying crouched down, smiling at the fox. “You’re welcome,” she said.
The sound of a whale’s cry echoed through the air, and Zhu Chi, sitting on a high point along the coast, watched as Bai An Ran, now in her true form, swam in the ocean.
Her sight had been restored by the Sword Saint, though she still required daily acupuncture treatments.
Bai An Ran’s voice, carried by the wind, reached her ears. “Look at this!”
Zhu Chi had been watching her, then she saw a water spout erupt from the surface of the ocean, a rainbow forming in its mist.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
Zhu Chi smiled. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
Joy and sorrow were experienced differently by each individual. Even in close proximity, their fates diverged.
A dragon was rescuing a damsel in distress, a couple was enjoying a romantic moment, and a cat and a dog were running for their lives.
Lü Qingyan’s teleportation ability was disabled. Bai Jingxue realized that the dog wasn’t as fast as her.
Seeing that Lü Qingyan was about to be caught by the mutated demons pursuing them, she scooped up the dog, her speed increasing.
“Damn it!” she thought. “These things are at least at the middle stage of Nascent Soul! And there are so many of them! We can’t win!”
She suspected Ying had sent them to assassinate her.
Had Ying met the male lead and fallen in love?
She had no time for conspiracy theories, but her frustration boiled over. “Just wait!” she shouted.
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