Chapter 8: The Cat Official Will Learn Immortal Arts and Defeat You!(1)
Struggling to free herself, but with her limbs stuck in the crevices of the wall, Shang Shang couldn’t extricate herself immediately. She yelled furiously, “You liar! You broke your promise! I’m quitting!”
Mu Qiandan sat up, calming herself, “What were you doing standing by my bed?”
Shang Shang shouted, “I’m quitting! I’m going home!”
The hall was vast, her voice echoing endlessly, grating on the ears. Mu Qiandan frowned slightly, stepping off the coffin lid and approaching her. “Answer my question. What were you doing just now?”
Shang Shang’s eyes widened, “What else could I be doing? You brought me here and then went to sleep, completely ignoring me! This place is so big, where am I supposed to stay? Where do I eat? I can’t even ask?”
Even in her fury, the girl’s face was still endearing. Most people would soften at the sight of such a cute little girl, wanting to treat her kindly. But Mu Qiandan’s expression remained unchanged, cold as ice. “You could sleep on the ground in a cave, there’s plenty of space here to sleep. Why so many questions?”
Shang Shang retorted, “That’s different! A cave is outside, it doesn’t matter where you sleep outside, but no one sleeps on the floor at home… Besides, you hit me again! That’s too much, I’m quitting!”
Mu Qiandan nodded, “Fine, if you can defeat me, I’ll let you quit.”
Shang Shang froze, struggling again, “You haven’t taught me anything, and you want me to fight you? How can I win?”
Her movements caused more stones to fall. Mu Qiandan glanced at the ground, “If you can’t win, then stay put. Clean up this mess later.”
She turned and walked back towards the jade coffin, wanting to sleep some more.
However, before she reached it, she heard the cracking sound of spreading fissures in the wall, followed by a sudden collapse and the thud of something hitting the ground.
A gust of wind rushed from behind. Mu Qiandan dodged, and Shang Shang, missing her attack, twisted her waist for another strike, but her foot slipped on the rubble, and she lost her balance, falling to the ground.
She fell hard, like a heavy sandbag dropped from a height, a dull thud mixed with a sharp crack. Mu Qiandan’s heart skipped a beat, her eyelashes lowering. “…Why bother?”
Shang Shang, briefly knocked unconscious, came to, looking sideways to see the woman’s ice-blue skirt and spotless white boots. Her temper easily ignited, and after being repeatedly snubbed and even struck, her accumulated frustration erupted.
She pushed herself up, declaring angrily, “I don’t care! Let’s fight now!”
She reached for her waist, about to stuff gold into her mouth.
Being burned by dragon fire was far worse than being bitten; the former was painful, the latter deadly. Mu Qiandan swiftly lowered her head, pulling a rope from her storage pouch. Infused with spiritual energy, it coiled around the girl like a snake, then suddenly tightened, binding her like a caterpillar, the end of the rope landing in Mu Qiandan’s palm.
“Don’t move.”
Close together, with a height difference, Shang Shang could only look up at her. Her indignation was evident, but the fury on her face had cooled.
This calm, thoughtful expression had appeared once before at the Liu residence, also after being struck. Mu Qiandan thought: Does she only start using her brain after being beaten badly?
The black hand on her heart trembled, its eye squinting then widening.
Li Biyuan’s voice quivered, ‘My dear… can you be a little gentler with the protagonist? Even the original master never hit her this hard. If your relationship is this bad, how will the plot progress?’
Mu Qiandan replied, ‘Didn’t she attack me first?’
Li Biyuan said, ‘Yes, but… you’re her elder, can’t you be a little more tolerant of her mistakes? It’s not a big deal.’
Whether before or after transmigrating, this body and soul were twenty-seven years old, while the protagonist was only fifteen, twelve years younger. Ignoring appearances, she could practically call her “Auntie.”
Mu Qiandan started to say, ‘If she doesn’t respect her elders, why should I…’
Shang Shang suddenly interrupted, “Do you have other motives for taking me as your disciple?”
This question went straight to the core, a surprising display of intelligence. Mu Qiandan lowered her head, meeting her gaze. Flames flickered in the depths of those dark pupils, yet the surface was calm.
“You don’t seem to like me, and you don’t want to teach me. I’ve thought about it, and I realized that taking me as your disciple doesn’t benefit you at all. So why did you do it?”
Shang Shang’s eyes shifted, her words flowing more smoothly, “And in the beginning, you clearly saw me for the first time, yet you knew who I was and even called me by my name. Combined with what I just said, it’s like you approached me with some ulterior motive.”
Mu Qiandan tightened her grip on the rope, “I consulted a fortune teller, and they said we were fated to be master and disciple, so I sought you out.”
Hearing those words, ripples of emotion appeared in the girl’s eyes again, her voice trembling slightly—thin and wounded, “But you broke your promise. You said you wouldn’t hit me, yet you did.”
Mu Qiandan said, “Don’t sneak up on me next time, and you won’t get hit.”
Shang Shang snorted, staring at her, “But I don’t trust your words anymore.”
She was clearly not convinced, still wanting a clear promise or some reassurance. Mu Qiandan saw through her, but didn’t comply. Instead, she glanced up at the ceiling of the hall and sighed, “Whatever.”
Then, she continued, “Just stay put. Do as I say, don’t ask questions, and don’t bother me. If you can’t do that, then just die. Choosing how you die is the only right you have left.”
Shang Shang said, “No master and disciple interact like this.”
Mu Qiandan’s patience ran out, her tone hardening, “So? What do you want to do? Tell me your last wishes.”
“I want to talk, but not about last wishes, I don’t want to die,” Shang Shang shifted, trying to straighten her back, lifting her chin. “I don’t want much, just for you to talk to me properly, never hit me again, and tell me what you want me to do…”
Mu Qiandan replied, “Rejected.”
Shang Shang exclaimed, “Why?!”
The echo reverberated through the hall, fading gradually.
The silence continued. Half of Mu Qiandan’s face was hidden in the shadows, the other half too cold and expressionless to be read.
After a moment, she twirled the rope around her hand, then pulled sharply, instantly closing the distance between them.
Her eyes glinting with spiritual energy, she spoke softly, her voice like a murmur, “I really don’t understand what you’re so upset about.”
Her tone was stranger than before. Shang Shang was momentarily taken aback, “What?”
Mu Qiandan continued, “What do you have to be upset about? You’re the protagonist, your victory is predetermined. Even if there are detours, your ending is glorious. You’re destined to win, with the whole world as your supporting cast, aren’t you satisfied?”
She had wanted to say this since arriving in this world, but back then, she still had some patience. Now, it was completely gone, and she spoke her mind freely.
Confused by her words, Shang Shang instinctively shook her head, “I don’t understand…”
“Yes, you don’t know anything, you don’t understand anything, so you can enjoy the world’s favor without a care.” Her free hand rose, her palm resting on the girl’s throat, gently caressing it.
She didn’t have any reason to be jealous of a fictional character, but perhaps because of the constant emphasis on her role as the vicious supporting character, this resentment intensified, forcing her to vent.
She chuckled, “Even though I know you’ll become a calamity later, I can’t kill you directly. Why? Because you’re the protagonist, the chosen one, the one who enjoys all the benefits of the halo.”
“You’re unique, irreplaceable, so you have almost unlimited chances to make mistakes, everyone revolves around you, sacrificing themselves to nurture your growth. But why? Why should others sacrifice everything for a useless person like you?”
One phrase struck a nerve with Shang Shang, and she shouted, ignoring everything else, “I’m not! I’m just different from others, I’m not a calamity! I’ve always been catching rats, that’s a good deed! Why do you want to kill me? I’ve never provoked you!”
Her outburst caused her vocal cords to vibrate, and her abnormally high body temperature radiated through Mu Qiandan’s palm, a testament to the girl’s vibrant life force.
Mu Qiandan stared at her, tightening her grip, thinking: What good was being a Hall Lord of a major sect if she was just a tool, traveling thousands of miles to bring a little Cat Official who would eventually surpass her?
According to the original story, the protagonist would face numerous hardships and dangers, but the author always found a way for her to overcome them. A smooth path was paved for her; how could that be considered hardship?
Weren’t there people in the real world with lives as fortunate as a novel’s protagonist? Possessing wealth, power, status, and even a “perfect” personality, everything Mu Qiandan lacked.
She admitted she was jealous. Why? Why were these people so lucky?
Why did she have to be the supporting character?
Even after transmigrating, this absurdity continued!
It was as if the heavens had branded her with the word “supporting character.”
She couldn’t choose before, but now… the protagonist was in her grasp. If she killed her and took all the treasures meant for her, wouldn’t she be able to replicate the protagonist’s fate?
If she did that, why bother returning to the real world, remaining trash for the rest of her life?
“Ugh…” A sudden darkness and a sharp pain in her heart made Mu Qiandan groan, doubling over, her grip loosening, releasing the girl.
Seeing her falter, Shang Shang immediately jumped back, shaking off the rope, clutching her throat and staring warily at the woman.
It felt like a thunderclap had exploded in her chest, a searing pain spreading through her. Mu Qiandan felt dizzy, her muscles twitching. She hunched over for a while before her hearing returned.
Li Biyuan’s voice was unprecedentedly serious, ‘I know what you’re thinking. I’m telling you now, you can’t!’
Mu Qiandan gasped for breath, pressing her hand against her chest to alleviate the discomfort in her heart. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, her voice icy, “What did you just do?”
Li Biyuan replied, ‘I squeezed your heart, as punishment. This can’t happen again.’
“Heh… who gave you the right?” Mu Qiandan laughed coldly, her hand on her chest radiating spiritual energy. Moving it just an inch further would tear this frail body apart.
“Aren’t you afraid of variables? If I destroy this body by self-destructing, preventing you from using another soul to continue the plot, do you think the protagonist will still go to the real world according to the prophecy?”
Li Biyuan: ‘…’
“Let’s be clear, this is a partnership, not you unilaterally ordering me around, or even whipping me into shape. The protagonist wants to destroy the world, do I have to stop her? No, I’d be delighted.”
Mu Qiandan’s laughter turned cold, her tone turning menacing, “If you make me unhappy again, we’ll all die together, no one will survive.”
The black hand was silent as death.
The standoff continued for a long time, until Li Biyuan finally relented, ‘Alright… I understand. I won’t squeeze your heart again, but you can’t harm her either.’
Mu Qiandan didn’t reply. As the pain subsided, she straightened up, her bones cracking.
Holding her back, she cursed this rusty, useless body, then looked around. The hall was empty; the protagonist was gone.
Stepping outside, the gray sky hung low, the sunlight thin and weak.
The salty sea air made her skin damp. Mu Qiandan stood in the cool breeze, scanning the horizon, spotting a gray figure on a reef, trying to build a raft out of sticks to escape the Narrow Sea.
She flew over, “What are you doing now?”
Shang Shang, without turning back, continued building her raft, “I’m going home!”
Mu Qiandan said, “Where’s your home?”
Shang Shang replied, “Even if it’s just me, it’s still home. Anywhere but here!”
Mu Qiandan snorted, about to drag her back, when she noticed a spirit bird flying towards them.
She looked up. The bird had snow-white feathers, bright red claws, colorful plumes on its head, and a sharp beak. It spoke, “Immortal Xi Meng has sent me to inquire why Immortal Yao’e is delayed and hasn’t arrived at the Assembly Hall for the meeting.”
‘Immortal Xi Meng, whose name is Pan Xiangyin, is the Sect Leader of Tianyu Gate. She’s highly cultivated, powerful, and serious. In the cultivation world, where practice prolongs life, she’s one hundred and seventy-nine years old, but remains unmarried and childless.’
‘There’s also this introduction: She walks alone in both the mortal and immortal realms, unfazed by doubts, dedicated to her work, powerful and resolute, single-handedly raising Tianyu Gate from an insignificant sect to its current position as the leading sect. Her abilities are undeniable.’
‘Because she’s always on the move and rarely smiles, she’s known as the Iron-Faced Fragrant Immortal. But when you see her later, just address her as Sect Leader.’
Despite their earlier argument, Li Biyuan still provided a timely explanation, quoting from the original story.
Mu Qiandan understood and said to the spirit bird, “Tell the Sect Leader I’ll be there shortly.” The bird chirped and flew away.
She had agreed, but she didn’t know what the meeting was about.
Without the original master’s memories, her transmigration had caused a gap in the plot. Facing situations not mentioned in the book, it was easy to make mistakes, so she had to be careful.
Summoning Bai Tong, Mu Qiandan climbed onto the crane. Just as she was about to leave, she remembered that the protagonist’s discipleship still needed to be registered. The Narrow Sea was vast, and going back and forth was inconvenient, so it was better to do it now.
Having decided this, ignoring the protagonist’s thoughts, she urged Bai Tong to fly.
Poor Shang Shang, still squatting on the ground tying branches together, suddenly saw a shadow descend from above the shimmering water. A gust of wind swept past, and a sharp claw grabbed her waist, lifting her into the air.
The mirrored surface of the Narrow Sea receded rapidly below. Shang Shang froze, looking down at her waist to see the crane’s dark red claws. She shouted, “What are you doing?! Put me down!”
Mu Qiandan ignored her, focused on controlling the crane, flying at high speed.
The biting sea wind made it hard to open her eyes, and Shang Shang’s wide-sleeved robe billowed in the wind. She flailed her limbs, her long, curly hair whipping around her face like relentless slaps.
So, she fought with her hair while fuming inwardly. By the time they landed, her curls were a tangled mess, resembling a lion’s mane. Paired with her wrinkled beggar’s clothes, all she needed was a bowl to beg for money on the streets.
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