Mistaken Era 115

Chapter 115

The Sword Sect disciples, stunned by her sudden display of power, their previous disdain forgotten, watched her disappear into the sect’s inner sanctum.

Xiao Xiao, her movements swift and determined, reached the main hall, kicking open a door, revealing Qin Lingxiao, sitting in meditation.

He was no longer the youthful disciple she had known. His face, now mature, bore the marks of time, his eyes, however, still clouded, as if struggling to adjust to this reality.

She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close, her voice a low growl. “What happened to Wei Jie?”

He stared at her, his mind still foggy. “You… you’re back?”

It seemed he too had returned, his soul back in his body.

Although he had been poisoned in the past, his current body shouldn’t be affected. He was a soul traveler, his original body unaffected by the events of that other timeline.

He finally focused, his voice strained. “We were there… we saw it… He… he was struck by the Dongyuan Emperor’s axe…”

“No!” Xiao Xiao shouted, cutting him off, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her face. “He wouldn’t die like that!”

He couldn’t be gone! To die so brutally and then somehow defeat the Dongyuan Emperor? She hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye…

She had returned to her own time, but her heart felt empty, her life meaningless.

Qin Lingxiao, dismissing the disciples who had gathered at the door, ordered tea, then, placing a cup before her, said gently, “There are legends of deities sacrificing themselves, their souls transforming into a divine light, to save the world… Perhaps Wei Jie.”

His words offered no comfort. She glared at him, as if ready to tear him apart.

He took a deep breath, wondering how to console her.

He, however, was secretly pleased. His journey to the past had been a nightmare. He should have been scarred by those experiences.

But he had returned, his life unchanged!

He was still the leader of the Sword Sect, his power unchallenged, his disciples loyal, his status secure. And Xiao Xiao was alone now, a widow.

Her grief was understandable. But life went on. She had to eat, to drink, to move on. And who better to help her than him?

He had been humbled by their time in the past. He was a changed man, more mature, more worthy of her.

He offered words of comfort, his voice gentle, his gaze sincere.

The door burst open, and Ling Zhishan, the leader of the Two Instruments Palace, stormed in, her eyes narrowed, her voice shrill. “You slut! Seducing another woman’s husband!”

She lunged at Xiao Xiao, but Qin Lingxiao intercepted her, his voice cold. “What nonsense are you spouting? Who is your husband?”

Ling Zhishan’s eyes filled with tears. “Have you forgotten? We just got engaged! You promised to marry me in ten days!”

Qin Lingxiao stared at her, bewildered. His memories, since his return, were fragmented, a mix of familiar and unfamiliar.

This engagement… he had no recollection of it. But hearing her words, he felt a strange sense of recognition… as if it had truly happened.

But when? How? It was like… a sudden, unexpected obligation.

Ling Zhishan, however, didn’t care about his confusion. Since that day, when Xiao Xiao had vanished during their fight, leaving him unconscious…

And now, he had woken up, only to be found with Cui Xiao Xiao! She wouldn’t tolerate this!

She lunged at Xiao Xiao again, but Xiao Xiao, suddenly nauseous, vomited, the acidic contents of her stomach splattering Ling Zhishan’s clothes.

Ling Zhishan, caught off guard, shrieked, her disgust evident.

She tried to approach again, but Xiao Xiao retched, forcing her to retreat.

Qin Lingxiao, during his possession, had learned about Xiao Xiao’s illness. Seeing her now, he suspected it was acting up. He hurried to her side, offering her tea, then, his brow furrowing, checked her pulse.

His eyes widened, his gaze fixed on her.

Xiao Xiao, who had checked her own pulse earlier, finding it normal, her blood loss seemingly gone, her heart numbed by Wei Jie’s death, no longer fearing her own mortality…

She had even wondered if, upon her death, she would meet him again, by the River of Forgetfulness, among the other shore flowers…

She didn’t ask about his reaction, his silence unsettling.

He swallowed, his voice carefully neutral. “Did you know that you’re a month pregnant?”

Silence fell upon the hall. Xiao Xiao, her hand flying to her abdomen, felt it – a faint, but unmistakable, flutter beneath her fingers. She was carrying Wei Jie’s child!

Ling Zhishan shrieked, her voice shrill, her anger exploding. “You got her pregnant?! A month pregnant?! And you’re engaged to me?!”

She lunged at him, ready to tear him apart.

He couldn’t explain. He raised his hand, silencing her with a burst of energy, then turned, but Xiao Xiao was gone.

Fate was a cruel mistress. Just as she had given up hope, it had given her a reason to live.

She was carrying his child!

This child… destined to be born without a father… but it was all she had left of him, a precious gift. She would ensure its survival.

She left the Sword Sect, returning to Lingshan Mountain.

The familiar boulder, round and smooth, like a Maitreya Buddha, still stood by the entrance, Yu Ling’er’s smiley face carved onto its surface.

Yu Ling’er… was she still in the Valley of Eternity?

She went to the back mountains, searching for the entrance, but she couldn’t find it. She returned to the main buildings, her heart heavy.

She hadn’t eaten since her illness. Her grief, her sorrow, had suppressed her appetite.

But the child within her… it needed nourishment. She forced herself to eat, instructing her disciples to prepare meals, even giving Ji Wuqi some silver to buy supplies.

“Our Gold-Extinguishing Curse hasn’t been lifted,” he said, his voice gruff. “How can we buy anything?”

But as he spoke, he instinctively caught the silver she tossed at him, and to his surprise, it didn’t vanish.

Jiang Nanmu and Ayi, rushing over, touched the silver, their eyes widening. It was real! Their curse… it was gone!

Had their master finally lifted it? They rejoiced, heading down the mountain to buy supplies.

Xiao Xiao, however, was puzzled. Tang Youshu had traveled to the past, but his body had died. He wasn’t coming back. And if the curse had a time limit… why now?

They returned, their arms laden with bags of rice, meat, vegetables, even eggs.

But their culinary skills hadn’t improved. Xiao Xiao, her appetite already suppressed, struggled to swallow the tough meat, the bland vegetables. She forced herself to eat a bowl of porridge, then returned to the back mountains, her search for the valley continuing.

But she couldn’t find it. Perhaps, after Wei Jie’s death, Tang Youshu, unable to save Yu Ling’er, had chosen to stay with her, their souls reunited in that timeless realm…

Her journey to the past… it seemed to have no impact on the present. Her memories, a jumbled mess, her connection to this timeline fragile. She couldn’t risk disrupting it further, not while she was pregnant.

But once the child was born, she would seek out the Wei family, the demons of the Demon City. They would know the truth, the details of those final days.

But surviving on Lingshan Mountain, with her disciples’ terrible cooking was a challenge.

She sent Jiang Nanmu to the village to buy food from the inn.

Ji Wuqi, of course, couldn’t resist a few snide remarks about her refined palate. But before he could finish, she sent him flying, his body dangling from the highest branch of a tree in the courtyard.

She had been their ancestor’s master, their founder’s master, the creator of two sects.

She was no longer the naive, inexperienced leader she had been.

“You disrespect your Sect Master,” she said, her voice cold, her gaze fixed on him. “If you’re unhappy, leave. Find another sect. I won’t stop you. But if you want to remain here, learn some manners! Your disrespect… it’s unacceptable!”

She activated a Binding Talisman, and he froze, his body stiff, his mouth open, his cries silenced, the wind swaying him gently, a ridiculous spectacle.

The next morning, after receiving her permission, Ayi, using a ladder, rescued him.

He had been furious, packing his belongings, ready to leave, but halfway through, he had burst into tears, clinging to Ayi, his pride shattered.

And finally, he learned to respect her, his behavior, his tone, more subdued.

He had no choice. Cui Xiao Xiao, her power awakened, her skills honed, was a force to be reckoned with. When Ling Zhishan, accompanied by her disciples, arrived, seeking to cause trouble…

Xiao Xiao, with a few paper figures, transformed them into an army, their attacks relentless, even tearing out chunks of Ling Zhishan’s hair.

As they fled, defeated, humiliated, the three disciples stared at their Sect Master, their awe evident.

Qin Lingxiao, using Ling Zhishan’s behavior as an excuse, attempted to visit her, to apologize, to… rekindle their connection. But her barrier, strong and unyielding, blocked him.

She wanted to be alone, her days spent in her room, her mind adrift, memories of those two intertwined lifetimes, their timelines colliding, their futures uncertain, haunting her.

And she noticed some discrepancies, the scars were gone.

Scars, acquired during her childhood, her time on the streets, following her adoptive father, her body a testament to their harsh life… they were gone.

She had even shown them to Wei Jie, joking about them, comparing them to the rings of a tree, marking the passage of time…

He had frowned, his gaze lingering on them, his touch gentle, his lips tracing their paths…

And now… they were gone, vanished along with him, her memories, fragmented, unreliable… she couldn’t even be sure if those painful experiences had truly happened.

Her pregnancy progressed, her belly swelling, her appetite growing, her cravings… specific. Even Jiang Nanmu’s efforts, her trips to the village inn, their food delicious, couldn’t satisfy her.

But she couldn’t burden her disciples. She ate what she could, forcing herself to swallow those dishes that didn’t appeal to her. The child needed nourishment.

One day, Jiang Nanmu, her arms laden with trays of food, entered her room. “Try these,” she said, her voice hopeful. “The new cook prepared them. Do they suit your taste?”

She had even hired a new cook, seeing Xiao Xiao’s struggle.

Xiao Xiao, however, still had no appetite. And her pregnancy had made her lethargic. She thanked Jiang Nanmu, her smile weak, instructing her to leave the trays on the table.

After Jiang Nanmu left, she intended to rest, but the aroma was intoxicating.

She felt a flicker of hunger, a rare occurrence, and decided to eat. The child couldn’t survive on spiritual energy alone.

The dishes were all her favorites – sweet and sour pork, glistening with sauce, shrimp balls, their crispy shells tempting…

Her appetite awakened, she picked up her chopsticks, taking a bite of pork.

This dish, seemingly simple, was difficult to master, its balance of flavors, its textures… it required precision.

But this was perfect, the tender meat, its juices bursting forth, the sweet and sour sauce, its tanginess balanced, its sweetness subtle…

She savored each bite, then tried a shrimp ball.

And then, after sampling several dishes, she stood abruptly, her slippers slapping against the wooden floor, and rushed towards the kitchen.

Jiang Nanmu, in the small kitchen, was chatting with the new cook, when she saw Xiao Xiao, her hair loose, her bare feet slapping against the floor, her face pale, her gaze frantic, searching every corner, every nook and cranny. “Who… who cooked this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Jiang Nanmu, assuming she had found something wrong with the food, her voice filled with fear, said, “Sect Master, please forgive me! I saw the trays, the food already prepared, and assumed the cook was done. But she… she was napping. She hadn’t even started cooking! You… you ate it? Are you… unwell?”

Unwell? It was more than unwell! Those flavors… they were identical to Wei Jie’s cooking!

Jiang Nanmu and the cook, huddled in a corner, watched as Xiao Xiao, like a madwoman, overturned everything, searching the cupboards, the stove, even the water vat, her voice echoing through the kitchen. “Wei Jie! Come out! I know you’re here!”

But there was no answer, only the crackling of the fire.

Jiang Nanmu, observing her Sect Master’s increasingly erratic behavior, her concern growing, wondered what had happened. Since her disappearance, that cheerful, carefree girl… she was gone, replaced by this shadow.

And the child she was carrying… whose was it? She refused to reveal the father’s identity.

And now this madness.

The new cook, unable to bear the tension, the strange, almost supernatural, atmosphere, threw down her apron, muttering, “I can’t do this anymore,” and fled, her belongings clutched tightly in her hands.

And so, every day, at mealtimes, a tray of delicious food, carefully prepared, would appear, its aroma filling the air, the dishes… all Xiao Xiao’s favorites. But the cook… they remained hidden.

However, Xiao Xiao’s appetite returned, her face regaining its color, her energy increasing. She no longer looked pregnant. She seemed… radiant.

One day, after finishing the last shrimp ball, Ji Wuqi approached her, his expression hesitant. “The Sect Master of the Soaring Cloud Pavilion is here again. He refuses to leave. He’s waiting at the gate.”

Xiao Xiao set down her chopsticks, her voice calm and steady. “A guest? We can’t keep him waiting. Invite him in.”

Qin Lingxiao hadn’t expected her to agree.

He straightened his robes, smoothing his hair, then, his demeanor elegant, his white robes flowing, approached her.

He had expected to see a heartbroken woman, her beauty faded, her spirit broken. But she was glowing, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright.

He had come to apologize, to offer his support, to express his feelings. She might be carrying another man’s child, but he would still care for her.

She listened patiently, pouring him a cup of tea, her movements graceful. “Tell me, Qin Lingxiao,” she said, her voice soft, her gaze steady, “how will you care for me?”

He was caught off guard by her directness. He stammered, his words hesitant. “I’ve spoken to Ling Zhishan. We’ve ended our engagement… I misjudged you and Wei Jie. I want to make amends… to care for you and your child. My offer still stands. I’ll marry you. I’ll treat your child as…”

“Alright,” she said, cutting him off. “When?”

“What?” he asked, blinking, her quick acceptance surprising him.

“Aren’t you… serious?” she asked, her voice soft, her gaze unwavering. “Was it just… empty words?”

He couldn’t back down now. To refuse… it would seem as if he was rejecting her child, his sincerity questioned.

“Of course I’m serious,” he said, his voice firm, as if trying to convince himself. “You know that I have feelings for you. It’s just… you were with…”

She cut him off again. “Good. As you can see, my belly is growing. I can’t hide it much longer. Prepare the wedding. Keep it simple. The sooner, the better.”

He hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t grieving. She was eager to marry him.

He knew that if Wei Jie hadn’t died, if their journey to the past hadn’t happened… this opportunity would never have presented itself.

He smiled, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anticipation. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll start preparing immediately.”

He left, his steps hurried, his excitement palpable.

That evening, during dinner, when Xiao Xiao announced her impending marriage to Qin Lingxiao, her disciples were stunned, Ji Wuqi nearly choking on his food.

“Junior Sister,” Jiang Nanmu asked hesitantly, “you didn’t want to marry him before. Why have you changed your mind?”

Xiao Xiao shrugged, her voice casual. “Is there a more suitable man in the world than the Sect Master of the Soaring Cloud Pavilion? Who else should I marry? Someone who hides in the shadows? Hang the wedding decorations! Lanterns, banners… everywhere! The kitchen, the hallways, the dining hall… let’s celebrate!”