Category: I Am the Female Lead’s Cat

Chapter 51: A Cat’s Life

Humans possessed both good and evil. But what about the world?

Bai Jingxue couldn’t calm her mind. Cultivation was impossible. She stretched, leaving the chamber, leaving Lü Qingyan, who was sleeping soundly.

She sighed. The dog seemed to be enjoying life a bit too much.

The night was silent. She climbed onto her favorite rooftop, only to find that Luo Nianshang was also awake.

“Meow.”

Luo Nianshang, her sword resting across her lap, her usual posture as a child, a memory now distant and faded, smiled at the cat.

“Can’t sleep either?” she asked.

“Meow.”

Bai Jingxue rubbed against Luo Nianshang’s knee, then settled beside her, yawning.

Although they couldn’t communicate verbally, Luo Nianshang simply needed a non-human companion to listen to her troubles.

Knowing Luo Nianshang’s past had changed Bai Jingxue’s perspective. The seemingly soulless character from the novel had become more complex, more real.

She had so many questions, but all she could produce were meows. She closed her eyes, frustrated.

Luo Nianshang, assuming the cat was simply being affectionate, scooped her up, placing her on her lap.

Bai Jingxue, however, found the Sword Saint’s sword rather cold and uncomfortable. She quickly jumped down.

Luo Nianshang picked her up again, and Bai Jingxue promptly jumped down again.

After several repetitions of this, Luo Nianshang’s voice took on a mournful tone. “You never used to run away from me,” she said.

“Meow.”

“I’m sorry, but I love my butt more than you,” Bai Jingxue thought.

Unfortunately, her true feelings couldn’t be conveyed. She settled down near Luo Nianshang, her paws tucked beneath her.

Her cat eyes, glowing brightly in the darkness, stared at Luo Nianshang, making her laugh.

Her somber mood lifted, and she gazed up at the stars, her hands resting on her sword.

“I never thought Master would want to see you,” she said. “I visited her grave so many times, but there was never any response.”

“Meow.”

“Don’t be jealous of a cat,” Bai Jingxue thought.

Luo Nianshang traced the patterns etched on her sword sheath, her voice laced with sadness. “Both my masters died because of demon cultivators,” she said. “I dedicated myself to my cultivation, hoping to one day eradicate all demon cultivators from the world.”

Bai Jingxue twitched her ears, scratching them with her hind leg, then looked at Luo Nianshang, meowing softly.

Those words, coming from Luo Nianshang, were perfectly normal. She had always emerged from seclusion to slay the Demon Lord. Although this time had been different, in her previous two encounters, she would have beheaded the Demon Lord without hesitation.

Qiu Yingxi was rather lucky. But then again, unlike her predecessors, she was a formidable opponent.

The novel had made that clear.

Bai Jingxue couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. Both the female lead and the female antagonist were extraordinary individuals, though their extraordinary abilities had simply been plot devices to further the male lead’s conquests.

Luo Nianshang sheathed her sword, and Bai Jingxue, seizing the opportunity, settled onto her lap. The roof tiles were cold.

Luo Nianshang, distracted by the cat’s warmth, her train of thought broken, patted Bai Jingxue’s head, then remembered what she had wanted to say. “But it became my inner demon,” she said, her voice laced with regret. “My path was flawed. I had to isolate myself, emerging only when the righteous realm faced a crisis.”

Bai Jingxue was stunned. She couldn’t believe that someone so pure and selfless could be consumed by darkness.

Luo Nianshang had witnessed the suffering of countless others, yet her only desire had been to bring light to the world.

But it made sense. Fang Yue Lian had died right before her eyes. Only Fang Xin’s soul had lingered at their shared grave.

Fang Yue Lian’s soul had been severely damaged.

Luo Nianshang’s brow furrowed with worry. “What if I truly fall to demonic influence?” she asked.

If Luo Nianshang succumbed to darkness, this fragile world would be doomed.

Bai Jingxue rubbed against Luo Nianshang’s hand, offering silent comfort. It was all she could do.

Luo Nianshang, her mood lifting, gently lifted Bai Jingxue, her voice filled with gratitude. “It’s good to have you here,” she said. “Someone to listen.”

The Demon Lord, eavesdropping from inside the chamber, nearly exploded with jealousy. She shook Lü Qingyan awake, her voice a frantic whisper. “Your beloved is slipping away!”

Lü Qingyan, groggy, opened her eyes to see Luo Nianshang’s new disciple. After a moment of confusion, she leaped to her feet, barking furiously.

She remembered how she had fallen into the well. She had been caught, but she had only lost consciousness after accidentally consuming that disciple’s culinary abomination.

The Demon Lord quickly covered Lü Qingyan’s mouth, but Luo Nianshang, alerted by the commotion, had already arrived, Bai Jingxue in her arms.

She entered the room to see her disciple struggling to silence the dog. She frowned, then decided it was pointless to try to understand her disciple’s unusual behavior.

Lü Qingyan broke free from the Demon Lord’s grasp, leaping onto Luo Nianshang’s shoulder, then settling comfortably in her arms.

The Demon Lord, watching this exchange, suddenly realized something she had never noticed before. The cat and dog were always clinging to Luo Nianshang, yet she, despite her three disguises, had never managed to get this close.

Jealousy surged through her, but it also sparked a new idea. Perhaps she should create a pet puppet.

Bai Jingxue, seeing the Demon Lord staring at Luo Nianshang, her gaze intense, frowned.

Then she dismissed the thought. This wasn’t a typical romance novel. There wouldn’t be any forbidden love between master and disciple. Luo Nianshang was simply beautiful.

“Jingxue, have you forgotten something?” Lü Qingyan asked.

Forgotten something?

Bai Jingxue looked at her, confused. “Forgotten what?”

Lü Qingyan’s ears drooped, but then she wagged her tail, her voice gentle. “Think back to what you promised me in the secret realm.”

The secret realm?

Bai Jingxue searched her memory. So much had happened there. She couldn’t remember making any promises.

But such a trivial matter couldn’t stump her. She simply wished she hadn’t remembered.

She glanced at the two other occupants of the room, her voice hesitant. “Are you sure you want me to kiss you here?”

Lü Qingyan’s tail wagged furiously. “What’s wrong with here?” she asked. “Don’t overthink it. It’s just us.”

Bai Jingxue’s cheeks burned. She was always easily embarrassed. She turned to negotiate with Lü Qingyan, but she met the dog’s gaze, her eyes wide and pleading.

Her heart melted.

Why was Lü Qingyan always so good at acting cute? It was infuriating.

She mentally berated herself for her weakness, but she couldn’t bring herself to be harsh.

Besides, she was just a cat, and Lü Qingyan was just a dog. No one would care if they kissed.

If she was truly worried, then she simply had to be quick.

She leaned forward, quickly brushing her nose against Lü Qingyan’s cheek, then pretended nothing had happened.

Lü Qingyan touched her cheek, her ears perked up, her tail wagging wildly.

Bai Jingxue, glancing at her, seeing her exaggerated reaction, couldn’t help but snort.

Luo Nianshang stared at them, her voice filled with disbelief. “Did they just kiss?”

The Demon Lord chuckled, then her smile faded, replaced by a wave of sadness.

Those two had already kissed, while she was still struggling to win over her supposed nemesis.

What do you do when your crush is completely oblivious? There seemed to be no solution.

Luo Nianshang, oblivious to her disciple’s sudden change in mood, stared at the cat and dog in her arms, her voice filled with wonder. “A cat and a dog? This…”

This was a lot for her to process. She pondered this for a moment, then realized that both creatures were female.

“It’s fine,” she thought, trying to reassure herself. “It’s probably just a coincidence.”

But what if it wasn’t?

She felt a headache forming. If it wasn’t a coincidence, then she would have to approach the Demon Lord and propose a marriage.

She had no idea how to interact with the Demon Lord. Those dream encounters had been so absurd that she had resorted to simply blocking them out of her mind to maintain her composure.

But if she saw the Demon Lord again, those memories would resurface, no matter how hard she tried to suppress them.

She had lived a life of celibacy for so long. She hadn’t expected to be undone by a dream. But she couldn’t blame the Demon Lord. They had both been victims of that illusion.

But she was still angry. The Demon Lord had deliberately seduced her in those dreams.

One was angry, the other heartbroken. It was a rather comical scene.

Bai Jingxue, oblivious to their emotional turmoil, had closed her eyes, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Don’t overthink it,” Lü Qingyan had said. “It’s just us.”

But while Lü Qingyan’s life might have lacked an audience, Bai Jingxue’s cat life was filled with them.

Chapter 50: Advice

The cat and dog were fascinated by the young Luo Nianshang, but after observing her for a while, they realized that she had always been this way.

Her life consisted of eating, sleeping, cultivating, and enduring the pranks of her two masters.

Today, Luo Nianshang was sitting on her designated meditation cushion, her posture perfect, her mind focused on her cultivation.

Suddenly, a pebble flew through the window, striking her forehead. A thin trickle of blood flowed from the wound.

She paused in her practice, reaching up to touch the wound, but her expression remained unchanged.

A mocking laugh echoed from outside. “Haha, she didn’t even react. What a little weirdo.”

Another voice, hesitant and timid, said, “But Senior Brother Lin, what if Elder Fang finds out?”

The disciple, addressed as Senior Brother Lin, scoffed. “What’s there to be afraid of?” he said. “My father is the sect leader. They’re just elders.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Senior Brother Lin interrupted, his voice impatient.

He picked up another pebble, tossing it at the window. This time, however, Luo Nianshang raised her sword, deflecting the projectile.

She stared at the two pebbles on the floor, one stained with blood. She picked up the bloodstained pebble, tossing it aside. The pebble flew through the window, creating a hole in both the wall and Senior Brother Lin’s hand.

A scream of pain echoed through the air, and Luo Nianshang covered her ears, her face pale.

Bai Jingxue, peering through the window, saw Senior Brother Lin clutching his hand, blood dripping from the wound.

As expected of the female lead. Revenge was swift and decisive.

Bai Jingxue yearned for that kind of power. If she were that strong, so many of her problems would vanish.

But it was just a fantasy. She was still a ghost.

Lü Qingyan, however, was delighted. “Long live the female lead!” she cheered.

But the female lead wasn’t happy. She had only used a little bit of force. How had she caused such a serious injury?

Realizing she had created trouble for her masters, she sought them out, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped.

The Ejian Sect was located in a mountainous region, with numerous cliffs. One particular cliff offered a stunning view of a waterfall cascading down the opposite mountainside.

Fang Yue Lian had fallen in love with this spot and had built a small pavilion there. She often dragged Fang Xin there to drink.

Fang Xin had initially resisted, but she had eventually given in to her cousin’s persistent invitations.

They were currently enjoying their usual drinking session, their gazes fixed on the waterfall.

But when Luo Nianshang approached, dragging her sword behind her, they both turned, their expressions darkening as they set down their wine cups.

Fang Xin rushed over, crouching down to examine Luo Nianshang’s wound. She drew her sword, her voice laced with fury. “That little beast, Lin!” she snarled. “I’ll teach him a lesson!”

Fang Yue Lian, retrieving a vial of medicinal powder, carefully applied it to Luo Nianshang’s wound, then grabbed Fang Xin’s arm, stopping her. “The sect leader will surely protect his son,” she said.

Fang Xin’s anger intensified. She sheathed her sword, then snorted. “You’re becoming weaker as you grow stronger,” she said.

Fang Yue Lian paused in her ministrations, a bitter smile curving her lips. “I have more to worry about now,” she said. “You and Shang’er are both my responsibility.”

Her words, however, only angered Fang Xin further. She grabbed Fang Yue Lian’s collar, her voice cold. “I told you, I won’t be a burden to you,” she said. “I can protect you.”

She stared at Fang Yue Lian, her face inches away, noticing the surprise and confusion in her eyes.

She released her grip, her heart aching, then turned and walked away, her steps heavy.

Luo Nianshang, distracted by the argument, had forgotten what she had wanted to tell her masters. Now, with one of her masters angry and gone, her anxiety intensified, pushing the memory further away.

She huddled against Fang Yue Lian, tugging her sleeve, her voice small. “Is Master Fang Xin angry at me?”

Fang Yue Lian turned, scooping Luo Nianshang into her arms, her voice gentle but laced with sadness. “Of course not, Shang’er,” she said. “She’s angry at me.”

Luo Nianshang looked up at her, her understanding of adult emotions limited.

Fang Yue Lian sighed, settling back into the pavilion. Two half-empty wine cups sat on the small round table.

She stared at the empty cup across from her, her smile laced with bitterness. “Human emotions are so complicated,” she murmured.

Luo Nianshang, sensing the shift in atmosphere, suddenly remembered what she had wanted to say. She touched her forehead, the wound no longer bleeding.

“Master, I did something bad,” she said, her voice urgent.

She had injured the sect leader’s son, but thanks to the Fang cousins’ intervention, the matter had been quietly resolved.

Bai Jingxue, floating above them, watching as Fang Yue Lian and Fang Xin said their goodbyes, felt a surge of unease.

A crisis had erupted in the north. Demon cultivators and demon beasts had joined forces, attacking a righteous sect, slaughtering its disciples. The scene was gruesome.

The sect that had been destroyed had been similar in size to the current Ejian Sect. Logically, a small sect like theirs wouldn’t be involved in such a conflict.

But the Ejian Sect had sent Fang Xin.

Fang Yue Lian, her intuition screaming, grabbed her cousin’s hand. “It’s dangerous,” she pleaded. “Don’t go.”

Fang Xin hesitated, her gaze meeting Fang Yue Lian’s worried eyes, then she released her hand, forcing a smile. “I’m not going alone,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

Fang Yue Lian stared at her empty hand, her voice tight with worry. “Come back soon.”

Fang Xin nodded, then mounted her sword, preparing to depart.

“Sister!” Fang Yue Lian called out. “You’re my only family now.”

Fang Xin didn’t turn back. She waved a hand, then vanished into the sky.

She was gone for six months. When they met again, Fang Xin was a cold, lifeless corpse.

Fang Yue Lian had been devastated, her spirit broken, her days and nights spent mourning at her cousin’s grave. Only in Luo Nianshang’s presence did a flicker of life return to her eyes.

She still brushed Luo Nianshang’s hair, sang her songs, and told her stories, as if nothing had changed.

It would have been a peaceful existence, but their tranquility was shattered.

A demon cultivator, a master of illusions, had attacked.

In the illusion, Fang Yue Lian had seen Fang Xin again. She had forgotten that she was a cultivator, believing she was still standing on that mansion wall, centuries ago.

Flames roared behind her, and Fang Xin, her arms outstretched, her voice urgent, had shouted, “Trust me! Jump!”

In reality, Luo Nianshang had watched as her master, a smile on her face, had dropped her sword, leaping from the cliff, her body consumed by the vengeful spirits summoned by the demon cultivator waiting below.

Bai Jingxue closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight. When she opened them again, she saw Luo Nianshang’s eyes, filled with rage.

Then, those eyes, along with the surrounding scenery, shattered. She realized she could no longer sense her own existence, but her first thought was for Lü Qingyan.

But darkness claimed her before she could find the dog.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself submerged in water. She struggled, then felt something grab her, lifting her from the water.

That familiar feeling of suffocation, of being carried by the scruff of her neck… it had to be the dog.

She looked up to see Lü Qingyan, her body expanded.

The water grew shallower, and she was deposited on the shore. Two graves stood before them. The tombstone on the left read “Beloved Master Fang Xin.” The one on the right read “Beloved Master Fang Yue Lian.”

They had watched a long, tragic film, powerless to alter its ending.

They looked up to see the sky, its brilliance veiled by a shimmering curtain of water.

Lü Qingyan, shrinking her body, nestled beside Bai Jingxue, her ears drooping. “I’m sad, Jingxue,” she whispered.

Bai Jingxue felt the same, but she struggled to express her emotions. She simply patted Lü Qingyan’s head.

“It’s over,” she said. “According to the rules of this world, they’ve been reincarnated. We’re the only ones who are sad.”

Lü Qingyan sighed. She understood, but she still couldn’t accept it.

“Are you sad?”

A voice startled them, and they turned to see Fang Xin sitting on her own tombstone.

But her translucent form was a clear indication that she wasn’t alive.

Having encountered so many ghosts lately, Bai Jingxue wasn’t afraid. “Did you pull us in here?” she asked.

Then, realizing something, her eyes widened. “You can understand us?”

Fang Xin chuckled. She seemed more cheerful now than in the illusion. “I hoped you could help me retrieve Yue Lian’s fragmented consciousness,” she said, her voice laced with regret. “But it seems I failed. She doesn’t want to reveal too much to you.”

Bai Jingxue was confused. They were just ordinary cats and dogs. “You overestimate us,” she said. “We’re just pets. We can’t help you.”

Fang Xin laughed. “You? Ordinary?”

She sighed, realizing she had said too much. “I apologize for dragging you into this,” she said. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything I can.”

Lü Qingyan’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Can you transform us back into humans?”

“No,” Fang Xin replied.

Lü Qingyan’s excitement vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Then what can you do?” she asked, her voice flat.

Fang Xin smiled. “I can chat with you.”

Lü Qingyan, unimpressed, rolled her eyes, then whispered to Bai Jingxue, “Why does a serious female lead have such a goofy master?”

“Ahem, I can hear you.”

Lü Qingyan immediately sat up straight, pretending she hadn’t just insulted Fang Xin.

Bai Jingxue, her tail twitching, had many questions. “Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked.

Fang Xin, surprised, smiled. “You’re quite perceptive,” she said. “I can influence Yue Lian’s dreams, but I can’t reach you.”

“But it’s the same if I tell you directly.”

She paused, her expression turning somber. “Don’t shoulder your burdens alone,” she said. “You are not the source of misfortune.”

After Fang Xin’s death, her soul hadn’t reincarnated. She had returned to the Ejian Sect, watching as Fang Yue Lian spiraled into despair. She had been filled with regret.

She had lacked talent, so she had pushed herself relentlessly, seeking out resources, desperate to keep up with her cousin.

She had wanted to protect her cousin, not be protected by her. She hadn’t wanted to be a burden, but her awkward personality had prevented her from expressing her true feelings.

And after her death, Fang Yue Lian had blamed herself, believing she was a jinx, a bringer of misfortune. If it weren’t for her, Fang Xin would still be the eldest miss of the Fang family. Their home wouldn’t have been destroyed.

If it weren’t for her, Fang Xin might have become a powerful bandit leader, living a long and fulfilling life.

Fang Xin had watched, her heart aching, her thoughts drifting to the past. What if she had been honest? Would things have been different?

Fang Yue Lian would have smiled, her eyes bright. “I would never abandon you.”

Perhaps those were the words Fang Xin had longed to hear.

Bai Jingxue was confused. It felt as if this woman understood her deeply.

She walked over to Fang Xin’s grave, her gaze fixed on the ghost.

The water curtain above them rippled, the sky turning a hazy gray.

“I can’t keep you here any longer,” Fang Xin said. “One last piece of advice.”

Bai Jingxue felt her body lifting, Fang Xin’s form fading in the distance, her words echoing in Bai Jingxue’s ears.

“Humans have both good and evil within them,” she said. “But what about the world?”

A force propelled them upwards, through the water curtain, their bodies emerging from the well.

They didn’t fall. They landed in familiar arms.

Bai Jingxue looked up to see Luo Nianshang’s beautiful face, a gentle smile curving her lips. “Welcome back,” she said.

Bai Jingxue meowed, remembering Luo Nianshang’s rage-filled eyes in the secret realm.

But now, her eyes were filled with warmth and kindness.

Despite all she had endured, the deaths of her masters, the bullying and ostracization from her fellow disciples, her heart remained pure.

Luo Nianshang, noticing Bai Jingxue’s gaze, smiled, petting the cat’s head. She paused, then chuckled. “It seems Master Fang Xin was fond of you.”

Bai Jingxue meowed, confused, then realized she had reached the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage!

Chapter 49: Sick

Everything was clear now. This was the Ejian Sect of the past, and the Fang cousins were Luo Nianshang’s masters. Of course, it was also possible that this was all an illusion.

The original story had only mentioned the Sword Saint’s strength, status, and appearance. After all, those were the traits that had made her a desirable target for the male lead. Her masters were irrelevant.

Bai Jingxue, accompanied by Lü Qingyan, had been observing the young Luo Nianshang, their ghostly forms drifting beside her. “She’s still alive,” Bai Jingxue concluded.

Although Luo Nianshang’s reputation as a ruthless weapon was well-established, she was still a child. Lü Qingyan, watching her struggle, felt a pang of sympathy.

The Fang cousins’ story might have been tragic, but that was a separate issue. The young Luo Nianshang was clearly suffering.

“She’s just a kid,” Lü Qingyan said, her voice filled with concern. “Is this really how you train someone?”

Bai Jingxue also thought it was excessive. She glanced up at the Fang cousins, noticing the worry etched on their faces.

Curious, she floated towards them.

Fang Xin, seeing Luo Nianshang’s silence, sighed. “She’s still like this,” she said.

Fang Yue Lian’s smile vanished. “Yes,” she said, her voice laced with worry. “She’s exhausted, but she refuses to speak. What will she do without us?”

Bai Jingxue’s ears twitched. If this truly was a memory from someone’s past, and if this memory was real, then she could provide an answer.

The answer was: Luo Nianshang would become the most powerful socially awkward individual in the world.

Lü Qingyan, her ghostly tail still wagging, also listened intently.

The cousins’ descriptions reminded her of someone, or rather, some cat.

Luo Nianshang’s personality did share some similarities with Bai Jingxue’s, but they weren’t completely alike.

Luo Nianshang was socially awkward. Bai Jingxue was simply sensitive and introverted, her tendency to overthink everything leading her to withdraw from others.

Lü Qingyan instinctively moved closer to Bai Jingxue. When they were alive, she could feel the warmth of Bai Jingxue’s body, but now, if she got too close, their forms would merge.

She was annoyed. She had been so close to getting that kiss, but now, it was just a distant dream.

She had only been dead for a short time, and she already missed being alive.

She glanced at Bai Jingxue, noticing her focused expression, then turned her attention back to the Fang cousins.

“Let’s wait here,” Fang Xin said, settling down on the ground.

Fang Yue Lian nodded.

Luo Nianshang, meanwhile, using her sword as a crutch, struggled to stand. The sword resembled Luo Nianshang’s future weapon, except that the current Luo Nianshang was shorter than the sword.

She was clearly stubborn. She used the sword to support herself, her steps slow and deliberate, as she continued her ascent.

Fang Yue Lian, her heart aching at the sight of Luo Nianshang’s sweat-drenched face, gently wiped her brow with a handkerchief, then scooped her up into her arms.

She stared at the child, her voice soft. “You did well,” she said. “Master will grant you one wish. What do you want?”

Bai Jingxue, watching this exchange, noticed the flicker of resentment in Luo Nianshang’s eyes. But the stubborn child remained silent, shaking her head.

Fang Yue Lian sighed. She carried Luo Nianshang, addressing Fang Xin, who was meditating. “Let’s go.”

A hundred years passed, and the Ejian Sect flourished. The Fang cousins, as the Daoist had predicted, possessed the potential for cultivation.

Fang Xin’s talent was less remarkable, but she was still considered gifted. Her competitive nature, her desire to match her cousin’s progress, fueled her dedication to her practice. Her efforts had been rewarded.

Bai Jingxue followed them, her eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. The events unfolding before her seemed to hold a hidden meaning.

Luo Nianshang, outside the illusion, sensed something. She opened her eyes, whispering, “Master.”

There was no response, only the silence of the night.

---

A knock on the door startled her. “Master, are you alright?” a disciple asked from outside.

Luo Nianshang waved a hand, and the door opened, revealing the disciple who had asked her those strange questions earlier. She had been having vivid dreams lately, a bad omen.

Seeing that the disciple was still standing there, she said, “I’m fine. Go to sleep.”

She suddenly realized she didn’t know her disciple’s name. “I’ve been so busy lately that I forgot to ask,” she said. “What’s your name?”

The Demon Lord, controlling the puppet from afar, was surprised. Names were usually recorded during the disciple recruitment process. It seemed Luo Nianshang hadn’t been paying attention.

She chuckled. She had chosen the name carefully.

“My name is Fu Ren, Master,” the puppet replied.

Luo Nianshang’s brow furrowed. “Fu Ren?” she repeated, her voice laced with confusion. “How do you write that?”

There were no writing materials in the room. The Demon Lord, acting boldly, had the puppet take Luo Nianshang’s hand, tracing the characters on her palm.

Luo Nianshang wanted to pull her hand away, but she didn’t want to upset her new disciple. She endured the ticklish sensation, waiting for the girl to finish.

“The ‘Fu’ from ‘husband,’ and the ‘Ren’ from ‘benevolence,’” the puppet explained.

Luo Nianshang withdrew her hand, clenching it into a fist. The ticklish sensation vanished. “Go to sleep, Fu Ren,” she said.

She found the name rather strange. The individual characters were fine, but together, they sounded odd.

The Demon Lord, back at the Demon Palace, hearing those words, grinned, while her left envoy simply sighed. She had grown accustomed to her lord’s eccentricities.

She dutifully reported on the situation in the Demon Realm, though she knew, based on her observations over the past few days, that the Demon Lord wasn’t paying attention.

A less devoted subordinate might have questioned the Demon Lord’s lack of focus, but the left envoy seemed to have a blind spot when it came to her lord’s shortcomings.

She would mentally justify the Demon Lord’s irresponsible behavior, her admiration growing with each passing moment. “As expected of the Demon Lord,” she thought. “Such trivial matters are beneath her notice.”

The left envoy’s intense gaze momentarily snapped the Demon Lord out of her lovesick trance. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

The left envoy immediately lowered her head. “I was simply admiring your wise decisions, Your Excellency,” she said. “I apologize for my transgression. Please punish me.”

Wise decisions? Was she referring to the name “Fu Ren”? Wait, had someone discovered her secret visits to Luo Nianshang?

The Demon Lord’s expression shifted, her gaze fixed on the left envoy, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She considered erasing the envoy’s memories.

The left envoy, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, her heart pounding, thought, “As expected of the Demon Lord. Such a powerful aura.”

The Demon Lord, her attention now focused on her left envoy, loosened her control over the puppet.

Luo Nianshang, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, seeing that her oddly named disciple was still staring at her, said, “It’s time for bed.”

The puppet nodded, then, to Luo Nianshang’s horror, began to climb onto her bed.

The puppet’s actions were so bold, so unexpected, that Luo Nianshang was speechless.

She suppressed her shock, her voice calm. “This is my bed,” she said.

The puppet nodded. “Yes, Master,” she said. “Time for bed.”

A less patient master would have tossed the girl out, but Luo Nianshang, despite her intimidating aura, was actually quite soft-hearted.

Having endured the harsh training methods of her own masters, she wanted to be a different kind of master, someone who offered kindness and support, someone who sheltered others from the storms.

“Are you asking to sleep with me?” she asked, her voice gentle, hoping the girl would understand her meaning.

The puppet pulled the blanket back, her eyes wide and innocent. “Yes, Master,” she said.

Luo Nianshang’s usually stoic face cracked.

She suddenly realized that this disciple was not quite right.

Had the Demon Lord’s attack damaged her mind?

She and the Demon Lord had been in cahoots. This disciple’s mental state was partially her fault.

Her annoyance vanished, replaced by a wave of guilt.

Meanwhile, at the Demon Palace, the Demon Lord had extracted her left envoy’s memories, but she had no time to examine them now. She would deal with them later.

She left the unconscious envoy on the floor, then shifted her focus to the puppet.

She hadn’t been aware of the puppet’s actions, so when she connected to it, she was surprised to find herself lying in Luo Nianshang’s bed, the Sword Saint herself sitting beside her, her expression filled with concern.

She assumed the puppet had collapsed while she had been distracted, but Luo Nianshang’s next words shattered her composure.

“Little Ren,” Luo Nianshang said, her voice serious, “I will take responsibility for you.”

What was this?

She had simply been extracting some memories. How had they reached the “taking responsibility” stage?

Wait, was Luo Nianshang really that fast?

The Demon Lord was a mixture of jealousy, confusion, and disbelief. She didn’t know how to react.

“Master, why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her voice strained.

Luo Nianshang sighed. She couldn’t reveal the truth about her deal with the Demon Lord. “Just sleep,” she said. “I’ll take you to a healer tomorrow.”

The Demon Lord’s eyes widened. A healer? Was something wrong with the puppet’s sensory functions? Why couldn’t she feel anything?

Luo Nianshang tucked the blanket around her disciple, then left, closing the door behind her. She glanced at the sleeping girl, then sighed.

The Demon Lord felt like her intelligence had been locked out of the room.

She quickly accessed the puppet’s memories, relieved to discover that nothing had happened.

But something still felt wrong. She ran her fingers through her hair, her frustration growing.

Unable to bear the agonizing uncertainty, she decided to examine her left envoy’s memories.

She scanned through them, then fell silent.

She ran her fingers through her hair again, her frustration transforming into a manic energy.

She paced her chamber, then finally, unable to contain her emotions any longer, she roared, “They’re all insane!”

***

Furen:  Polite term used to refer to a woman or a wife

Chapter 48: Fast Forward

“Why are you still following me?!”

Fang Xin whirled around, her gaze fierce as she glared at the three pairs of eyes staring at her. However, her previous actions had earned her Fang Yue Lian’s unwavering loyalty, rendering her intimidation tactics useless.

Fang Yue Lian, convinced that her cousin was a good person, worried that she would face punishment upon returning to the mansion. She had followed, determined to protect her.

She set down the cat and dog she had been carrying, her expression resolute. “I’ll go back with you,” she said. “You can tell them I started the fire. It had nothing to do with you.”

Fang Xin was exasperated, but she was in no mood to argue.

She finally smiled, but it was a bitter smile. “You don’t understand,” she said. “Whether you did it or I did it, it’s still the Fang family’s fault.”

Fang Xin had been devastated when she learned that the prince intended to take her as a concubine. Her father, who had always indulged her, had readily agreed to the arrangement.

She was just a daughter, a small sacrifice to ensure the prosperity of the Fang clan.

She had protested vehemently, finally relenting only after her mother had threatened suicide. But her anger simmered, her heart filled with a desire for revenge. She had planned to burn the prince’s mansion to the ground if she was forced to enter it.

Her parents, however, knew her well. They had confined her to the mansion, hoping to persuade her to abandon her rebellious ways.

Before they could succeed, a little lamb had wandered in, offering a solution to the Fang family’s dilemma. They simply needed to send a legitimate daughter to the prince. And the little lamb, despite her illegitimate birth, was technically a legitimate daughter.

Fang Xin, the rebellious thorn in their side, had been replaced.

But this little lamb had turned out to be far more formidable than they had anticipated. She might have seemed timid and innocent, but her methods were ruthless.

Fang Xin felt a surge of satisfaction. She hated both the Fang family and the prince’s household, but her parents had raised her, and those early years of love and affection had been real.

But there was no point in dwelling on the past. The situation was beyond her control.

“Go,” she said, her voice weary. “You can’t save me.”

Fang Yue Lian, her guilt intensifying, remained silent, following Fang Xin.

They had traveled a considerable distance on horseback, so walking back wouldn’t be a problem. Fang Xin, however, wasn’t in a hurry to return, so she led her horse, its reins looped around her hand.

Fang Yue Lian followed, carrying the cat and dog.

But when they reached the Fang mansion, they were greeted by a scene of carnage.

In turbulent times, unexpected events were commonplace. One moment, they were fearing the consequences of power, the next, a different kind of power had usurped the previous one.

A sudden rebellion had wiped out the Fang clan. Fang Xin had been lucky to escape, but she hadn’t even had a chance to bury her parents.

Fang Yue Lian, her guilt overwhelming, whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Fang Xin paused, turning to face her. “Why are you apologizing?”

Fang Yue Lian burst into tears. “I’m a jinx,” she sobbed. “I bring misfortune. It’s all my fault.”

The cat and dog nudged her hand with their noses, offering silent comfort.

But as Bai Jingxue listened, her eyes widened in disbelief. It wasn’t until Lü Qingyan sighed beside her that she snapped out of her shock.

This was straight out of a tragic drama. Fang Yue Lian’s grandfather, for love, had abandoned his status as a young master, choosing to live a simple life in the countryside. That was how Fang Yue Lian’s father had been born.

Her father had married the woman he loved, and Fang Yue Lian had been born. But then, tragedy had struck. Her mother had died in childbirth, and her father, consumed by grief, had drowned in a well.

Her grandmother had fallen ill, her spirit broken, and had soon followed her son to the grave, leaving behind only her husband and granddaughter.

The empire had been in turmoil, rebellion rampant. They had been forced to abandon their land, fleeing to a new home.

They had wandered for sixteen years, finally finding a peaceful village to settle in. Then, her grandfather, while gathering herbs, had stumbled, falling down a mountain slope, his life extinguished.

Fang Yue Lian, who had finally found happiness, was once again lost, blaming herself for her family’s misfortune.

And now, she believed she had brought ruin upon her cousin’s family.

Bai Jingxue, watching Fang Yue Lian cry, her heart aching, raised a paw, wanting to wipe away her tears, but Fang Xin beat her to it.

Fang Xin, though surprised by her cousin’s tragic tale, didn’t believe in such things. She gently wiped away Fang Yue Lian’s tears, her voice soft. “It’s not your fault,” she said.

She sighed. “Even if you hadn’t come, the rebellion would have still happened. It has nothing to do with you. You’re just unlucky.”

Seeing that Fang Yue Lian was still crying, she frowned. “Besides, you’re my only family now.”

“So listen to me. We’re in this together.”

“But…”

Fang Xin, her patience thinning, interrupted her. “No buts,” she said. “Don’t blame yourself for everything.”

Her words, though directed at Fang Yue Lian, struck a chord with Bai Jingxue. She glanced at Lü Qingyan, who was happily observing the drama, oblivious to Bai Jingxue’s gaze.

Bai Jingxue turned away, sighing silently.

Fang Yue Lian, having finally calmed down, sat in silence for a long time.

In these chaotic times, when empires crumbled overnight, two young women were easy prey. She considered their options.

Finally, she tugged Fang Xin’s sleeve, drawing her attention.

Fang Xin’s face, illuminated by the moonlight, was pale and drawn. “Are you hungry? Or cold?” she asked.

Fang Yue Lian shook her head. She rested her chin on the cat and dog’s heads. “Where are we going?” she asked.

Fang Xin glanced at the mountains in the distance. “I’ve been trained in martial arts since childhood,” she said. “In these times, the only safe place is in the mountains. We’ll become bandits.”

Fang Xin was clearly a bold and daring woman, but Fang Yue Lian’s suggestion was even bolder.

“A wandering Daoist once told my grandfather that I have the potential to cultivate,” she said. “He asked if I wanted to become an immortal.”

Fang Xin scoffed. “Those are just stories to entertain children,” she said. “Don’t tell me you want to become a nun.”

Fang Yue Lian blushed, realizing how ridiculous her suggestion must have sounded. “I still remember the location,” she said, her voice soft. “The sect was called the Ejian Sect, I think. The Daoist said it was on a large mountain.”

She glanced at Fang Xin, gauging her reaction. Seeing that she wasn’t opposed to the idea, she continued, “If we could become immortals, we could escape this chaos. And if there are no immortals, we can just take over the mountain ourselves.”

Lü Qingyan, listening to this exchange, her jaw slack, couldn’t believe the words coming from this seemingly fragile girl.

But then she registered the crucial information. “The Ejian Sect!” she exclaimed.

Oh no! Someone was planning to steal Luo Nianshang’s territory!

Bai Jingxue’s eyes gleamed. The plot was finally moving towards a crucial point.

They had arrived in this strange place after falling into a well at the Ejian Sect. If this truly was a secret realm created by some ancient being, then it must be connected to the Ejian Sect.

Everything that had happened so far had taken place in the mortal realm. Bai Jingxue, though she hadn’t voiced her concerns, had been worried.

But when she saw the dilapidated sign marking the entrance to the Ejian Sect, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

The two cousins stared at the crumbling sign, their expressions a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“This mountain is perfect,” Fang Xin said, her voice flat. “It’ll make a good bandit hideout.”

Lü Qingyan was also confused. “Did we transmigrate again?” she asked, her voice hesitant. “Is this a different Ejian Sect?”

Bai Jingxue, watching a figure approaching on a sword, said, “Let’s wait and see.”

Lü Qingyan sighed. “How long do we have to wait?” she asked. “I wish we could fast forward.”

As if her wish had been granted, a line of text appeared before her: “One Hundred Years Later.” The golden characters shimmered, then the world blurred. When her vision cleared, she realized she was floating.

She looked at Bai Jingxue, who was also floating, and was about to shout with joy when she realized she could see through Bai Jingxue’s translucent form.

“Jingxue, you’re dead!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with horror.

Bai Jingxue, her body drifting effortlessly, had also seen the text. “It’s a hundred years later,” she said, her voice dry. “Of course we’re dead.”

Despite being a soul now, Lü Qingyan’s ears still perked up.

“Oh, right,” she said, her voice filled with understanding. “You’re so smart, Jingxue.”

Then, she panicked. “I’m dead again!” she wailed. “But we’re not even married yet!”

Bai Jingxue, mortified, snapped, “Who said I wanted to marry you?”

Lü Qingyan, ignoring her, thrashed around in the air, her cries echoing through the void. “But you promised! Don’t you remember? You said you would marry me! On that bridge! You promised!”

Bai Jingxue hadn’t forgotten. She was simply embarrassed.

But then she realized they were ghosts. No one could hear them.

She looked down to see countless other souls gathered in the shadows, watching them with amusement, their whispers carrying on the wind.

Bai Jingxue, her cheeks burning, couldn’t take it anymore. “I know, I remember,” she said, her voice soothing. “Just calm down. Everyone’s watching.”

Lü Qingyan stopped thrashing, her gaze fixed on Bai Jingxue. Then, she resumed her dramatic wailing. “You only care about your reputation! I’m going to die again!”

Bai Jingxue, suppressing a sigh, shouted, “Fine! Stop crying, and I’ll kiss you!”

Silence.

Lü Qingyan floated obediently, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Bai Jingxue, despite being a soul now, felt a headache forming.

She wanted to find a hole to hide in, but as she looked down, she saw a miniature version of Luo Nianshang struggling to climb the stone steps leading to the Ejian Sect.

She was literally crawling, her white robes dragging on the ground, her chubby cheeks etched with an expression of seriousness that seemed incongruous with her age.

But she was still a child. Even her most serious expressions were adorable.

From this angle, however, Luo Nianshang resembled a plump white caterpillar.

Bai Jingxue’s embarrassment faded. She had a clear view of the path, and she spotted the Fang cousins at the top of the stairs.

They hadn’t aged. They both wore white robes, their swords strapped to their waists.

Fang Xin still had that perpetually grumpy expression, her silence heavy.

But Fang Yue Lian seemed more cheerful. She cupped her hands around her mouth, her voice carrying down the path. “You can do it, disciple! Only three thousand steps left!”

Bai Jingxue, hearing those words, felt a surge of sympathy for the young Luo Nianshang.

Chapter 47: Poison Fire

Lü Qingyan, curious, watched as Fang Yue Lian sorted through a pile of medicinal herbs. She spotted a beautiful white flower and was about to pluck it with her teeth when Fang Yue Lian grabbed her by the scruff of her neck.

Fang Yue Lian, startled, stared at the dog, her voice laced with exasperation. “Why do you try to eat everything?”

But the flower was so pretty. Lü Qingyan wanted to give it to Jingxue.

Fang Yue Lian set the dog down. “Go play somewhere else,” she said. “Don’t come near these herbs.”

Lü Qingyan reluctantly left, settling beside Bai Jingxue, who was sprawled on the floor, her eyes closed. “Stingy,” Lü Qingyan muttered, her tail drooping. “I just wanted one flower.”

Bai Jingxue ignored her. She needed to conserve her energy for tomorrow’s escape. Knowledge was power, and she was feeling empowered.

Seeing that the cat was ignoring her, Lü Qingyan lay down, closing her eyes, but her chatter continued.

“I can’t wait to transform back into a human,” she said. “Then we can do human things again.”

Bai Jingxue twitched her tail, acknowledging the dog’s words.

Undeterred by the cat’s silence, Lü Qingyan continued. “We’ve wasted so much time here,” she said. “If this really is a game, is there a skip button?”

“I miss Fu Yuan’s cooking.”

“Do you think Luo Nianshang has noticed we’re missing? Why hasn’t she come to rescue us?”

Bai Jingxue opened her eyes. “I’m going to help Fang Yue Lian escape tomorrow,” she said. “Follow me.”

Lü Qingyan perked up. “Mission accepted!”

Bai Jingxue closed her eyes again, but a sense of unease lingered, a premonition of something bad about to happen.

She dismissed it as her usual pessimism, forcing herself to relax and sleep.

The next day arrived, and Fang Yue Lian was placed in a small sedan chair, carried out of the mansion. Because she had been so obedient, her captors hadn’t bothered to restrain her.

The cat and dog, however, were locked in cages.

What was this? A failed attempt at a revolution?

But it wasn’t even a revolution. It hadn’t even begun.

Lü Qingyan bit at the bars of her cage, but they were thicker and sturdier than usual, too thick for her teeth to penetrate.

The head butler stood before the cages, his voice firm. “Don’t let them escape,” he instructed. “The prince is terrified of cats and dogs.”

The servant guarding the cages nodded, then picked them up, preparing to dispose of them.

“Wait,” a voice said. “Set the cages down.”

The butler, recognizing the eldest miss, his expression turning obsequious, bowed. “Eldest Miss,” he said, “these are just lowly beasts from the countryside. They are unworthy of your attention.”

Fang Xin, her face perpetually etched in a frown, as if the world had wronged her, glared at him.

“Do I need your permission to do as I please?” she snapped, snatching the dog cage from him.

The butler, speechless, but unwilling to offend her, forced a smile. “My apologies, Eldest Miss,” he said. “If you wish to keep them, then by all means.”

Fang Xin snorted, then left, carrying the cage. But instead of returning to her room, she stealthily scaled the wall, escaping the mansion.

Once she was outside, she found a secluded spot and opened the cage. “Go,” she said.

“Quickly find Fang Yue Lian!” Bai Jingxue urged, her voice laced with urgency.

Lü Qingyan sniffed the air, then dashed off in a specific direction, Bai Jingxue following closely behind.

But Fang Yue Lian had a significant head start. The escape plan was probably useless now. They wouldn’t be able to catch up.

A horse galloped past them, Fang Xin on its back.

Bai Jingxue, wanting to avoid attracting attention, had been running across the rooftops. The houses here were close together, making it easy to leap from one to the other. As she reached the next rooftop, she saw Fang Xin approaching, her face hidden behind a mask, her attire identical to the one she had been wearing earlier.

“This is urgent,” she said to Lü Qingyan, who was running on the ground. “I’m going ahead. Catch up later.”

Before Lü Qingyan could respond, Bai Jingxue leaped, landing on Fang Xin’s shoulder.

Fang Xin, startled by the sudden weight, paused, then, recognizing the cat, she dismounted, scooping up Lü Qingyan, who had just caught up.

“Fine,” she said, her voice softening. “She seems fond of you two. You might as well come along.”

She mounted the horse, urging it forward, pursuing the sedan chair carrying Fang Yue Lian.

They reached the designated meeting point, but the sedan chair was nowhere to be found. “Damn it!” Fang Xin cursed. “She didn’t escape.”

According to the plan, this location, with its dense forest and hidden paths, was the perfect place to disappear.

Once Fang Yue Lian was safe, Fang Xin would have taken her place, presenting herself to the prince, sparing her family.

Bai Jingxue, seeing her frustration, sighed. They had had so little time. Fang Xin hadn’t had a chance to truly get to know Fang Yue Lian. If she had, she would have realized that her cousin was illiterate.

But Fang Xin wasn’t giving up. She urged her horse forward, resuming her pursuit.

Bai Jingxue, jostled by the horse’s movements, felt a pang of despair. Her life since her arrival in this world had been surprisingly smooth. This was the first time she felt truly helpless.

It was like her past life, when she had understood the problems, but had been powerless to solve them.

Despite their efforts, they were too late. The sedan chair had already entered the prince’s mansion through a side gate.

“Damn it!”

Fang Xin cursed again. She tethered her horse, then quickly scaled a tree.

The tree was close to the mansion wall. Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan assumed she was planning to jump over the wall, but she simply sat there, motionless.

No one enjoyed a tragic ending. Lü Qingyan, her ears drooping, whined, “Jingxue.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Bai Jingxue said, her voice soft. “But perhaps this is all an illusion. Maybe none of this is real.”

Lü Qingyan stared at her. “Are you avoiding reality?”

She was, but avoiding reality was the only way she could find peace.

But as the sky darkened and lanterns began to illuminate the mansion, Bai Jingxue’s frustration grew. She finally snapped. “If this really is a game,” she hissed, “whoever designed this deserves a zero! No, a negative score!”

Lü Qingyan had been circling the mansion, hoping to find a hole she could squeeze through, but even if she succeeded, it wouldn’t achieve anything.

Hearing Bai Jingxue’s outburst, she ran over. “Jingxue.”

As the cat and dog wallowed in their shared misery, Fang Xin, perched on the tree branch, moved.

She plucked a leaf, tossing it into the air, watching its trajectory. “Southeast wind,” she muttered. “Good.”

She retrieved a fire starter from her sleeve, igniting it, then stealthily leaped over the wall.

She immediately realized something was wrong. The mansion should have been heavily guarded, but there was no one in sight.

She wondered if it was a trap, cautiously retreating into the shadows. But the entire mansion was eerily silent.

She couldn’t wait any longer. Every moment wasted could mean disaster for her cousin.

She ignited the fire starter, setting a small fire in the mansion.

As the flames grew, she quickly scaled the wall, escaping.

According to her plan, someone would surely come to extinguish the fire. She had targeted the prince’s treasury. That greedy beast would prioritize his wealth over a new concubine.

But she waited, and the mansion remained silent, the only sound the crackling of the flames.

No one came. The fire spread, its heat dispelling the chill of the night.

The villagers, awakened by the commotion, emerged from their homes, their faces filled with alarm.

Fang Xin’s heart sank. The fire had spread beyond its intended target.

Panicked, she searched for a way back into the mansion.

“Help! What’s happening?”

She recognized her cousin’s voice, despite their brief encounter. She followed the sound, finding Fang Yue Lian trapped by the flames.

Desperate, Fang Yue Lian was trying to climb the wall, but she wasn’t strong enough.

Just as she was about to give up, a hand reached down from the top of the wall. She looked up to see the woman who had claimed to be her cousin, her expression stern.

“Grab my hand!” Fang Xin shouted.

Fang Yue Lian, startled, reached out, her hand grasped firmly, her body lifted over the wall.

Fang Xin jumped down, then extended her hand towards Fang Yue Lian, urging her to follow.

Seeing her hesitation, she said, her voice urgent, “Trust me! Jump!”

Fang Yue Lian, still afraid, closed her eyes and leaped, the brief sensation of weightlessness followed by the feeling of strong arms catching her.

The cat and dog, witnessing this daring rescue, were stunned.

But they had no time to dwell on it. Fang Yue Lian, safely on the ground, seeing her cat and dog, scooped them up, one in each arm, and ran.

Fang Xin untied her horse, then pulled Fang Yue Lian onto its back.

Once they were a safe distance away, Fang Xin reined in her horse, a wave of regret washing over her. She hadn’t intended to start such a large fire. She had simply wanted to sneak her cousin out.

“Why didn’t you follow my plan?” she demanded, grabbing Fang Yue Lian by the collar.

Fang Yue Lian, still shaken from her near-death experience, blinked. “What plan?”

Fang Xin, exasperated, released her grip, punching a nearby tree in frustration. “Strange,” she muttered. “There wasn’t a single guard in the entire mansion.”

Fang Yue Lian’s face paled. “I didn’t expect a fire,” she said, her voice filled with guilt. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have poisoned them.”

Fang Xin stared at her, her jaw slack. This seemingly timid girl had poisoned an entire mansion? She hadn’t needed to start the fire at all.

The cat and dog, watching the exchange, were also stunned. Lü Qingyan suddenly remembered the white flower she had tried to pluck earlier. Could it be…

Her ears drooped. “Jingxue,” she whispered, “why are the flowers I try to give you always dangerous?”

The last one had come to life and tried to eat them. This one seemed to be poisonous.

Bai Jingxue shuddered. It was a good thing Lü Qingyan hadn’t managed to grab the flower.

She glanced at the dejected dog, her voice teasing. “Perhaps you’re trying to kill me.”

“No!” Lü Qingyan protested.

She was about to explain when she saw the amusement in Bai Jingxue’s eyes. She realized she was being teased again.

“You love messing with me,” she said, her voice flat.

Bai Jingxue turned her gaze towards the two cousins, her voice soft. “Perhaps.”

Chapter 46: Cousin

Controlling two puppets simultaneously was risky, so the Demon Lord had one of them meditating while she used the other one to interact with Luo Nianshang.

Although Luo Nianshang seemed aloof and unapproachable, she would eventually respond if persistently pestered.

The Sword Saint had dominated the cultivation world for centuries, yet no one had ever heard of her master. The Demon Lord was intensely curious about everything related to Luo Nianshang.

She wanted to know what everyone else knew, and she craved the knowledge that remained hidden. So today, she had sought out Luo Nianshang, her questions relentless.

Luo Nianshang, overwhelmed by her disciple’s enthusiasm, subtly distanced herself, her gaze fixed on the girl’s ordinary face.

“The Demon Lord injured you that day,” she said. “Are you feeling better?”

The Demon Lord, controlling the puppet, smiled. “Thanks to Master’s medicine, I’ve recovered.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned away, wiping them with her sleeve. “I’ve been alone since childhood, Master,” she said, her voice trembling. “Meeting you has been the greatest blessing in my life.”

Luo Nianshang, who had only taken on disciples to prevent her beloved Hong Ying from being lonely, suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She moved closer, awkwardly patting the disciple’s head.

“You have two senior sisters now,” she said. “And everyone else at the Ejian Sect.”

The puppet beamed at her. “Yes, Master,” she said. “And most importantly, you’re so kind.”

Seizing the opportunity, the Demon Lord pressed her advantage. “Master, did you have a master?” she asked. “Was your great master also kind?”

No one had ever dared to ask Luo Nianshang about her past. It wasn’t forbidden, but Luo Nianshang exuded an aura of “Do Not Approach.”

However, the word “kind” made Luo Nianshang’s brow furrow.

“No,” she said dryly. “She wasn’t kind.”

She paused, then added, “Neither of them were kind.”

The Demon Lord, back at the Demon Palace, her eyes widening, her curiosity piqued, tossed aside the spirit fruit she had been nibbling on. She ignored her left envoy’s report on the situation in the Demon Realm, focusing all her attention on manipulating the puppet.

“Master, you had two masters?” she asked, her voice a playful whine. “Tell me about them.”

Luo Nianshang, unable to resist her persistent pestering, sighed. Her eyes took on a distant look, her thoughts drifting to the past.

She had been raised at the Ejian Sect. Back then, it had been a small, insignificant sect.

Its disciples were few, its reputation weak, so it had attracted only those with limited talent.

She had been raised by two elders, becoming their disciple when she was old enough to cultivate.

They were cousins, the elder named Fang Xin, the younger Fang Yue Lian.

“Master Fang Xin was impatient,” Luo Nianshang said. “Master Yue Lian was a bit more gentle.”

As she spoke, memories resurfaced, vivid and painful. They hadn’t vanished. They had simply been buried beneath layers of grief.

But now, the pain was less intense. Not because the memories themselves were less painful, but because time had dulled the edges.

She fell silent, her gaze fixed on the sky, a sigh escaping her lips.

The Demon Lord, realizing she had touched a sensitive subject, regretted her question. She was about to change the topic when Luo Nianshang continued, her voice calm and even.

“If you were a mortal woman, coveted by a powerful man, forced to become his concubine, facing a life of misery, perhaps even death, how would you resist?”

The Demon Lord froze, her heart pounding. She had almost revealed her true identity. During those dark, painful years, her beauty had indeed attracted unwanted attention.

Her solution had been simple: she had turned those who had dared to touch her into puddles of flesh and bone.

She glanced at Luo Nianshang, but her eyes were clear, her expression devoid of suspicion. Her identity was still safe.

She let out a sigh of relief, then Luo Nianshang continued, “My two masters faced such a situation before they became cultivators. How do you think they reacted?”

The Demon Lord was stumped. She had become a walking poison factory after that traumatic incident, her body filled with toxins she had struggled to contain. But that poison had saved her life.

She had simply unleashed it, filling the room with poisonous fumes. The man who had tried to force himself upon her had died before he could even touch her.

But how could ordinary mortals escape such a situation? She had no idea.

“I don’t know, Master,” she said.

Luo Nianshang smiled, a rare, fleeting expression that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

The puppet stared at her, confused.

But the usually cold and aloof Sword Saint was surprisingly beautiful when she smiled. The Demon Lord, watching her, couldn’t help but smile too.

The left envoy, who had been reporting on the situation in the Demon Realm, was startled by the Demon Lord’s sudden laughter. She stared at her, bewildered. The Demon Lord had taken a bite of a spirit fruit, but instead of chewing, she was simply grinning.

The left envoy was deeply concerned.

The afternoon sun was too precious to waste. Bai Jingxue, realizing her limitations as a cat, decided to embrace her feline nature and bask in the warm sunlight.

Lü Qingyan, the ever-attentive dog, circled Bai Jingxue, her movements first clockwise, then counterclockwise, as if performing a ritual.

Bai Jingxue, her sunlight blocked, finally opened her eyes, placing a paw on Lü Qingyan’s head, silencing her.

“Jingxue, what should we do?”

“Nothing,” Bai Jingxue replied dryly. “You’re just a dog. Why do you care so much? Justice requires strength.”

“But shouldn’t we at least try to do something?”

Bai Jingxue considered this for a moment. “You’re right,” she said.

Lü Qingyan, assuming the cat had finally decided to take action, was surprised when Bai Jingxue covered her eyes with her paws.

“Now I can’t see it,” Bai Jingxue said, her voice matter-of-fact.

Lü Qingyan was speechless.

She pulled Bai Jingxue’s paws away. “Don’t do that,” she said.

What else could she do? If she were human, she would have intervened the moment that servant had started harassing Yue Lian. But she was just a cat.

Could a cat save the world?

Doraemon was a robot cat. Black Cat Detective was a cow cat. She was just a black blob.

She sighed, resigning herself to her fate. She licked her paw, then lay down again.

But the sunlight vanished once more. She opened her eyes to see a pair of beautiful eyes staring at her through the window.

She flinched. This was more terrifying than their homeroom teacher peering through the classroom window.

The guards outside the room noticed the woman standing by the window. “Eldest Miss,” they said respectfully.

The woman, her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line, had an air of authority.

She walked towards the door, the guards parting to let her pass.

Fang Yue Lian, sitting at her vanity, stared at the imposing young woman, her heart pounding with fear.

She had grown up in a remote village. She had never encountered someone so elegant and refined. She didn’t even know how to address her.

She watched nervously as the woman closed the door, approaching her with measured steps, then settled onto a stool, crossing her legs. She looked Yue Lian up and down, her expression contemptuous. “I hear you’re my cousin,” she said.

Fang Yue Lian blinked. “Huh?”

Her clueless demeanor annoyed Fang Xin even further. She scoffed. “Tomorrow, you’ll be taking my place,” she said, her voice cold. “You’ll be sent to that dog as a concubine. He’s a cruel man. You’re better off letting me go.”

Lü Qingyan, overhearing this, nudged Bai Jingxue. “I think she just insulted me,” she whispered.

Bai Jingxue covered the dog’s ears with her paws. “You can’t hear anything,” she said soothingly. “You can’t hear anything.”

Lü Qingyan, comforted by the cat’s touch, her wounded pride forgotten, wagged her tail, though her expression remained pitiful.

Fang Yue Lian, overwhelmed by the information, simply stared at her, her mouth open. “Huh?”

Fang Xin sighed, her annoyance growing. “Is that the only word you know?”

Fang Yue Lian flinched, intimidated by her harsh tone. She glanced at the woman who claimed to be her cousin, her voice a soft whimper. “Huh?”

Fang Xin, her patience exhausted, snapped. She had been pampered her entire life. She was used to getting her way. She flipped the table.

The porcelain tea set on the table crashed to the floor, but the sound was drowned out by Fang Xin’s furious roar.

“Stop saying ‘huh’!”

She stormed out, leaving a single sheet of paper behind.

Fang Yue Lian, trembling, watched her go.

Once the door was closed, she cautiously picked up the paper.

Bai Jingxue, though literate, wasn’t sure if the written language in this place had changed. She jumped onto Fang Yue Lian’s shoulder, peering at the paper.

Thankfully, she could understand it. It was a detailed escape plan, outlining the route and the destination.

She was surprised. In a typical story, the damsel in distress would have kept quiet, but this girl was different. She didn’t want to involve anyone else.

It seemed Lü Qingyan was right. The plot was progressing on its own. The next step would be Fang Yue Lian’s daring escape.

Bai Jingxue wagged her tail, happy for Fang Yue Lian, but she couldn’t help but glance towards the door, remembering Fang Xin’s departure.

This ending wasn’t perfect.

She was about to sigh when Fang Yue Lian spoke, her voice filled with despair. “I can’t read.”

Bai Jingxue lost her balance, tumbling from Fang Yue Lian’s shoulder.

“Jingxue!”

Lü Qingyan circled the cat, her tail wagging anxiously, but Bai Jingxue simply lay there, motionless, as if she were dead.

Lü Qingyan panicked. She tried to flip Bai Jingxue over, wanting to perform CPR, but she couldn’t move the cat. She whimpered, her distress growing.

Bai Jingxue, annoyed by the dog’s fussing, raised a paw, placing it on Lü Qingyan’s head. “I need some peace and quiet,” she said.

Suddenly, she had an epiphany. This was the key to clearing this stage. She was a literate cat, capable of understanding the escape plan. She could follow the route outlined in the plan.

Fang Yue Lian would surely search for her, and she could lead her to safety.

She felt a surge of responsibility.

“Lü Qingyan, get off me!” she shouted, her voice laced with a hint of panic.

Lü Qingyan, startled, jumped off Bai Jingxue’s back.

Bai Jingxue sighed with relief. Her burden had lifted.

Chapter 45: The Game

The young woman named Yue Lian had lost her last remaining relative. She shouldered her basket, carrying the last of their meager savings.

The entire village was populated by the Lin clan. Fang Yue Lian was an outsider, having fled to this remote location to escape the war. Her fate was like a dandelion seed scattered by the wind, its destination unknown.

Lü Qingyan poked her head out of the basket. The village, with its wisps of smoke rising from chimneys, was shrinking in the distance. They had left.

She retreated back into the basket. “Jingxue, we’re out of the village,” she said.

Bai Jingxue nodded. Their range of movement had clearly expanded. It seemed that their escape from this strange place would involve Yue Lian.

Lü Qingyan, observing the calm, collected cat, felt a sense of reassurance. “Jingxue,” she said, “this feels like a game.”

Bai Jingxue glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

Lü Qingyan, her voice filled with excitement, explained, “If this is a game, then there’s a main controller, a player character. And some areas are locked until certain plot points are triggered. Once the story progresses, those areas will unlock.”

Bai Jingxue considered this. It made sense.

“Well, we’re here now,” she said. “We’ll figure it out.”

Yue Lian walked for seven days, then, using most of her remaining money, she boarded a boat, enduring the bumpy journey until they reached her destination.

Alone and desperate, she had no choice but to seek refuge with her relatives. Staring at the imposing mansion with its red gates and green tiles, she swallowed nervously, then knocked on the door, her movements hesitant.

The door opened a crack, revealing a young man dressed as a servant. He looked her up and down, his expression contemptuous. “Go away,” he said. “We’re not giving out alms today.”

“No, no, no,” Yue Lian said quickly. “I’m here to see my second grand-uncle. Please inform him that I’m Fang Zhexiu’s granddaughter.”

Worried that he wouldn’t believe her, she pulled out a jade pendant wrapped in silk from her sleeve.

“This belonged to my grandfather,” she said. “The master of the house will recognize it.”

Bai Jingxue peeked out from the basket, her sharp eyes noticing the greed that flashed in the servant’s eyes as he saw the pendant.

Her heart sank.

As she had feared, the servant snatched the pendant, shoving Yue Lian aside. “You little beggar!” he snarled. “Trying to steal from us?”

Yue Lian, shocked and terrified, scrambled to her feet, trying to retrieve the pendant. “Give it back!” she cried. “That’s my grandfather’s heirloom!”

The servant, however, was strong. He shoved her again, sending her sprawling to the ground.

This was too much for Lü Qingyan to bear. She clawed at the edge of the basket, ready to attack, but Bai Jingxue quickly pinned her down.

“Let me go, Jingxue!” Lü Qingyan growled. “I’m going to bite him!”

Bai Jingxue remained calm. “This place is strange,” she said. “Don’t act rashly.”

The commotion had attracted a crowd, who gathered around, watching the spectacle with amusement.

The servant, playing the victim, pointed an accusing finger at Yue Lian. “This little thief tried to steal from the Fang family!”

“I didn’t!” Yue Lian cried. “That’s mine! Give it back!”

She lunged for the pendant, but the servant kicked her in the stomach, sending her crashing to the ground. She clutched her stomach, cold sweat beading on her forehead.

The cat and dog tumbled out of the basket, and Lü Qingyan, seizing the opportunity, teleported, her teeth sinking into the servant’s leg.

“Argh! Get this beast off me!”

Seeing the servant raise his fist, about to strike Lü Qingyan, Bai Jingxue lost her composure.

She leaped, biting the servant’s hand.

“Get these damn animals off me!”

The servant tried to pull Bai Jingxue away with his other hand, but the pain was so intense that he dropped the pendant.

The commotion had reached the inner courtyard. The head butler emerged, his gaze falling upon the dropped pendant. He narrowed his eyes, then looked at the young woman struggling with the dog.

She bore a striking resemblance to the old master of the house. And then there was the pendant. He had a hunch.

Ignoring the servant, who was howling in pain, he approached Yue Lian, his voice gentle. “Excuse me, miss,” he said. “Are you by any chance a descendant of Fang Zhexiu, our former master?”

Yue Lian, worried about the cat and dog causing trouble, replied hesitantly, “Yes, my grandfather was Fang Zhexiu.”

“And your grandfather’s wife?”

Yue Lian, staring at the unconscious servant and the cat and dog, who were now perched on his body, wagging their tails triumphantly, tried to change the subject. “He… he…”

The butler, his smile unwavering, glanced at the scene. “He has been punished for his transgression against you, miss.”

He was familiar with the household staff. A single glance was enough for him to understand what had happened.

Yue Lian, suddenly afraid, stammered, “My grandmother’s name was Xu Yingyue.”

The butler’s eyes widened. “So you are indeed our young miss,” he said, his voice filled with delight. “Ever since your grandfather left, the old master has been thinking of you constantly.”

Yue Lian was ushered into the mansion, quickly transformed into a proper young lady.

Even the cat and dog were adorned with golden longevity locks.

“Looks like the player character has good fortune,” Lü Qingyan said, her tail wagging. “I thought we were stuck in one of those clichéd underdog stories.”

But Bai Jingxue was uneasy.

The longevity lock around her neck jingled with every movement. Although she was fond of shiny objects, she found it annoying. She glanced at it, then closed her eyes, addressing Lü Qingyan. “Help me break this lock,” she said.

Lü Qingyan stared at her, her brow furrowed. “Are you really Jingxue?” she asked.

“Refusing free gold doesn’t seem like your style,” she muttered.

Bai Jingxue, exasperated, grabbed the dog’s shoulders, shaking her. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Ah, there’s the familiar temper! It’s Jingxue! Of course I’ll help!”

The lock was fastened with a red string. Snapping it was a simple task for Lü Qingyan.

The moment the lock fell away, Bai Jingxue dashed out of the room, leaping onto the roof and heading towards the largest, most imposing chamber in the inner courtyard.

Although her spiritual energy was still restricted, her feline agility remained.

She crept to the side of the chamber, listening intently.

She soon heard the butler’s voice.

“Master, this is the perfect opportunity to use the young miss,” he said. “We won’t have to sacrifice our own daughter.”

Another voice, calm and refined, replied, its words sending a chill down Bai Jingxue’s spine. “Indeed,” the man said, his tone laced with false sympathy. “The Prince of Nan’an insists on taking my daughter as a concubine. I cannot allow my precious Xin’er to enter that tiger’s den. This niece will have to be sacrificed. I will ensure she is honored in our ancestral shrine.”

Something was definitely wrong.

Bai Jingxue gritted her teeth. She didn’t know what the conditions were for escaping this secret realm. If it truly was like a game, then how was she supposed to clear this stage?

Was she supposed to save the “player character,” Fang Yue Lian?

Shouldn’t there be some kind of hint? This was too difficult!

She waited, hoping to overhear more, but the conversation ended abruptly. The butler left the room.

Unable to gather more information, she returned to Fang Yue Lian’s chamber.

Seeing her return, Lü Qingyan rushed over, her tail wagging, her voice laced with concern. “Where did you go?”

Bai Jingxue, glancing at Lü Qingyan’s worried expression, then at Fang Yue Lian, who was sitting on the bed, her eyes wide with curiosity as she examined her surroundings, sighed.

“Jingxue, what’s wrong?”

Bai Jingxue wasn’t a gamer, but Lü Qingyan was. Perhaps she was better suited to solve this puzzle. She explained everything she had overheard.

Lü Qingyan, upon hearing the story, was so angry she wanted to tear the place apart. She had already wrecked the Demon Palace. This puny mortal mansion was nothing.

“This is outrageous! Let me go, Jingxue! I’m going to turn this place into rubble!”

Bai Jingxue bit down on Lü Qingyan’s tail, struggling to restrain her, then, when her grip loosened, Lü Qingyan, propelled by her own momentum, crashed to the ground.

Lü Qingyan whimpered, rubbing her chin. “Ow, that hurts.”

Seeing the dog’s pained expression, Bai Jingxue’s heart softened. She gently blew on Lü Qingyan’s chin.

Lü Qingyan’s pain instantly vanished. “You’re the best, Jingxue,” she said, her voice filled with adoration.

Bai Jingxue, seeing her return to her usual carefree demeanor, smiled, then quickly schooled her expression. “So if this is a game,” she said, “how do we clear this stage?”

Lü Qingyan sat up, her brow furrowed in thought. “Based on my years of gaming experience,” she said, her voice serious, “we need to get Fang Yue Lian out of here.”

Bai Jingxue nodded. “How?”

Lü Qingyan closed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze deep and profound, as if she possessed great wisdom.

Then, she said, “I don’t know.”

Bai Jingxue stared at her. “You don’t know?”

Lü Qingyan shrugged. “The games I play have fixed storylines,” she explained. “The player follows a pre-determined path. You can’t influence the plot through your actions. There are only battles at key points. If you win, the story progresses.”

“So I really don’t know what to do. But I’m always up for wrecking a house.”

Bai Jingxue, seeing the mischievous glint in Lü Qingyan’s eyes, quickly vetoed that idea. “You can’t teleport right now,” she said. “You’ll get caught and turned into dog stew.”

As if on cue, the door opened, and a young servant girl entered, placing a food box on the floor. “Dinner is served, Young Miss,” she said.

She closed the door, leaving Fang Yue Lian alone.

This wasn’t how a guest should be treated. She was clearly being confined.

Fang Yue Lian clutched the jade pendant in her hand. The room was beautiful, but it felt oppressive, suffocating.

She walked over to the door, but two guards blocked her path.

“What can we do for you, Young Miss?”

Fang Yue Lian took a step back, her face pale, then gathered her courage. “I want to go outside for some fresh air,” she said.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Young Miss,” one of the guards replied, his expression impassive. “There has been an outbreak of malaria in the mansion. For your safety, you must remain in your room.”

Fang Yue Lian nodded and turned back, the door closing behind her, shutting out the sunlight.

She tried to look out the window, but as she approached it, it slammed shut.

Chapter 44: The Child

“Jingxue, you’ve lost weight,” Lü Qingyan said, her voice laced with concern. “When can we leave this place?”

She lay on the ground, her ears drooping. She had never experienced such bland, unappetizing food, both in her past life and this one. But at least they wouldn’t starve.

They had tried to escape, but an invisible force prevented them from leaving the village.

It was a small village nestled at the foot of a mountain, its residents skilled in the art of preparing medicinal herbs, thanks to the abundance of herbs growing on the mountain.

Yue Lian, the girl who had found them, wasn’t a healer. She was a herb gatherer.

Bai Jingxue had been following Yue Lian, hoping to familiarize herself with the surrounding terrain. They had to cross a small river to reach the mountain, and the village seemed to be located downstream.

Seeing Yue Lian preparing to leave, her basket strapped to her back, Bai Jingxue quickly followed.

Lü Qingyan, her energy restored at the sight of the departing cat, dashed after her.

“Jingxue, have you found a way out?”

Yue Lian slowed her pace, glancing back occasionally to make sure the cat and dog were keeping up. If they fell behind, she would wait for them.

As a result, Bai Jingxue walked slowly and gracefully, her movements elegant. Yue Lian simply smiled, her patience unwavering.

They reached the riverbank, and Yue Lian crouched down, petting Bai Jingxue’s head. “Are you not crossing the river again today?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Meow.”

Yue Lian stood up and continued walking, crossing the bridge. She waved at the cat and dog from the other side. “Wait for me, okay?”

Bai Jingxue meowed halfheartedly, then, once Yue Lian had disappeared into the forest, she tentatively stepped onto the bridge.

The world around her distorted, blurring at the edges, and a sharp pain pierced her head.

She quickly retreated, her paw withdrawing from the bridge.

As she had suspected, an invisible force confined them to this area. The other side of the river was forbidden territory.

Lü Qingyan also reached out with a paw, but Bai Jingxue stopped her.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “It’s useless. Let’s go back.”

She turned and walked away, Lü Qingyan following closely behind.

“Jingxue, are we going to be trapped here forever?” Lü Qingyan asked, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Bai Jingxue, surprised by the dog’s cheerful tone, turned to face her. “You seem happy about that,” she said.

Lü Qingyan was surprised. She had thought she had concealed her emotions well, but then she remembered who she was dealing with.

Bai Jingxue, due to her upbringing, was exceptionally observant. She had honed her ability to read people, to understand their hidden motives.

However, she was rather oblivious when it came to matters of the heart. Lü Qingyan’s blatant affection in their past life had gone completely unnoticed.

Since her true feelings had been exposed, Lü Qingyan decided to be honest. “I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life here with you,” she said, her voice soft.

Lü Qingyan’s sincere love always left Bai Jingxue feeling helpless. She couldn’t handle it, or rather, she couldn’t handle her own emotions.

So she gave in, allowing Lü Qingyan to get close.

But spending their lives here was impossible. This place was devoid of spiritual energy. Without it, they were just ordinary cats and dogs.

Even if this place was safe, the lifespan of a cat or dog was only a decade or two. Having experienced human lives, they couldn’t accept such a limited existence.

Bai Jingxue sighed. “You’re such a child,” she said, her voice laced with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

It wasn’t the first time she had heard that assessment. Lü Qingyan didn’t take it as an insult. It brought back fond memories.

She batted at a patch of weeds, a butterfly fluttering out. She wanted to chase it, but she didn’t want to damage its delicate wings.

She looked up at the sun, watching as the clouds drifted across the clear blue sky.

She took a deep breath, the fresh mountain air calming her restless heart.

She was reminded of the track field, the grassy lawns, and the towering buildings of their university.

Every year, Lü Qingyan had participated in the university’s sports festival. She was naturally athletic, and she had often filled in for events that lacked participants.

Bai Jingxue, of course, had never participated. She was too weak to even do two sit-ups, and she disliked crowds.

The fact that she had accepted Lü Qingyan, a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm, had been a miracle.

But even someone like Bai Jingxue, who preferred to stay on the sidelines, had once ventured onto the track field, settling on a grassy patch away from the crowds, her gaze fixed on a single person.

She had watched as Lü Qingyan received the baton, her speed and determination closing the gap between her and her competitors. She had watched as Lü Qingyan crossed the finish line, the crowd erupting in cheers, then as Lü Qingyan broke free from the throng of well-wishers, approaching her with a beaming smile.

“Jingxue, I won!”

The stares of those around them had made Bai Jingxue uncomfortable. She had instinctively lowered her head, then, remembering that Lü Qingyan was standing before her, she had looked up.

The sunlight was bright, illuminating Lü Qingyan, but even the sun seemed to fade in the presence of that radiant smile.

Bai Jingxue had smiled back, her voice soft. “You’re amazing.”

After the sports festival, they had walked together, Lü Qingyan excitedly recounting her performance on the track field. Youth was meant to be celebrated. Bai Jingxue, her arms full of books, had listened patiently to Lü Qingyan’s enthusiastic chatter.

“Jingxue, you wouldn’t believe it! I was so far behind, almost a whole lap! Everyone thought we were going to lose, but I caught up and won! I’m so awesome, right?”

Bai Jingxue, staring at Lü Qingyan’s eager expression, couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you a child?” she asked. “I’ve already praised you countless times.”

Lü Qingyan had grabbed Bai Jingxue’s sleeve, her voice a playful whine. “No, no, no! Praise me more!”

Lü Qingyan was taller than Bai Jingxue, so her attempt at acting cute had a rather comical effect.

Bai Jingxue, watching her rub her head against her shoulder like an oversized dog, had chuckled.

But they were surrounded by people. Bai Jingxue, always conscious of her image, coughed awkwardly, hoping to make Lü Qingyan stop. “Alright, alright,” she said. “You’re the best, Qingyan.”

Lü Qingyan, having received her desired praise, had beamed, her eyes sparkling. Then, she had pulled Bai Jingxue into a hug, her laughter echoing through the air.

“You’re the best, Jingxue!”

Bai Jingxue had nearly been crushed by the enthusiastic embrace. She had tried to push Lü Qingyan away, but when her attempts had failed, she had simply given up, sighing. “Am I your girlfriend or your mother?”

Before Lü Qingyan could answer, Bai Jingxue had continued, her voice softening. “But if I could stay a child forever, how wonderful that would be.”

“Growing up is painful, Qingyan. I hope your future is as bright as you are today. You’ll always be my little one.”

Lü Qingyan, remembering those words, rolled on the ground, her laughter echoing through the quiet forest.

Bai Jingxue, bewildered, stared at her. “What are you laughing about?” she asked.

Lü Qingyan blinked. “I was thinking about the past,” she said. “And about you.”

Bai Jingxue sighed. “I’m right here.”

Lü Qingyan shook her head. “I was thinking about the past you,” she said. “But when I think about it, neither of us have really changed.”

Bai Jingxue’s ears twitched. She heard a faint cry coming from the other side of the river. She turned and ran towards the sound.

Lü Qingyan, startled, scrambled to her feet, chasing after Bai Jingxue.

“Jingxue, wait!”

Yue Lian was crying. She had just crossed the bridge, a man slumped over her back, his hand dangling, blood dripping from his wounds.

“Grandpa, hold on!” she cried. “We’re almost home!”

She hurried past the cat and dog, her mind preoccupied with her grandfather’s injuries.

Bai Jingxue saw the man’s face, his body covered in wounds, his clothes stained crimson.

The scent of death was strong. She knew he was already gone.

“Jingxue, look!”

Lü Qingyan’s voice startled her, and she turned to see the dog standing on the bridge.

Her eyes widened. The space around them seemed to be shifting.

***

“Master, I’ve brought your new disciples.”

Luo Nianshang opened her eyes, emerging from her meditation. She smoothed her robes and opened the door.

Fu Yuan stood before her, two young women trailing behind her.

They were both rather ordinary-looking. One of them, introduced by Zhu Chi, was named Xiao Xia. The other one’s name was still unknown.

“We greet Master,” they said in unison, bowing respectfully.

Luo Nianshang nodded curtly.

The atmosphere was thick with awkward silence. Thankfully, Fu Yuan intervened.

“Do you have any further instructions, Master?” she asked. “If not, I’ll take our new Junior Sisters to familiarize themselves with the sect.”

Luo Nianshang nodded. “Go ahead.”

Fu Yuan led the two disciples away.

The Demon Lord, controlling her puppet from the Demon Palace, felt a mix of emotions. She wanted to spend more time with Luo Nianshang, but she was also pleased by the Sword Saint’s indifference towards her new disciples.

Then she remembered that the new disciples were her.

She shared their senses, their vision and hearing. She could hear Fu Yuan’s voice.

“Master might seem cold, but she’s actually quite kind,” Fu Yuan said. “Don’t be afraid of her.”

The Demon Lord, for various reasons, disliked Fu Yuan.

But she was currently playing the role of a shy, timid disciple. “Really?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

Fu Yuan turned to see the disciple who had gained entry through her disastrous cooking.

She suppressed a sigh, her voice patient. “Of course,” she said. “No master in the Ejian Sect has ever mistreated their disciples. You have nothing to worry about.”

The Demon Lord, intrigued, had her other puppet ask, “Did Master have a master? What was Master’s master like?”

It was a question few could answer. The Sword Saint herself was a living legend. Her master would have been from an even more ancient era.

But Fu Yuan was no ordinary disciple. She often volunteered at the library to earn merit points, taking advantage of the opportunity to browse the collection.

Having spent more time with her ancestor, she had developed a habit of reading anything related to Luo Nianshang.

She searched her memory, then replied, “Master did have a master, but for various reasons, there are few records of that generation.”

“But we do know her master’s name.”

The Demon Lord, her interest piqued, had her puppet ask, “What was Great Master’s name?”

Fu Yuan, staring at the two disciples who had spoken in unison, felt a shiver run down her spine.

She swallowed, ignoring the strange sensation. “Her name was Fang Yue Lian.”

Chapter 43: Hehehe

With the selection of her new disciples complete, Luo Nianshang, instead of rushing to meet them, retreated to her chamber, lost in thought.

She rubbed her right cheek, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

Not long ago, the Demon Lord had sought her out, requesting her assistance.

The Demon Lord’s request had been simple: she wanted Luo Nianshang to help her stage a fight. As the Sword Saint, Luo Nianshang was the only one capable of inflicting a serious injury upon her.

Luo Nianshang, though unaccustomed to such deceptions, had seen the logic in the Demon Lord’s plan.

The Demon Realm under Qiu Yingxi’s rule was far more peaceful than it had been under her predecessors. Prolonging Qiu Yingxi’s reign would benefit the righteous realm.

However, unrest was brewing in the Demon Realm, and the Demon Lord wanted to fan the flames, to lure out those who plotted against her from the shadows, then crush them.

But as long as she remained in power, those who sought to usurp her throne wouldn’t dare to act openly. That was why she had proposed this staged fight with the Sword Saint, hoping to create the illusion of weakness, of vulnerability.

Only then would her enemies feel confident enough to reveal themselves.

Luo Nianshang, impressed by the Demon Lord’s cunning, had asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

The Demon Lord had simply smiled. “Is there a problem with that?”

Luo Nianshang had been speechless. They were on opposing sides, yet they now shared a common goal.

She needed someone like Qiu Yingxi as the Demon Lord to maintain peace between the righteous and demon realms, to prevent another large-scale conflict.

And the Demon Lord needed the Sword Saint’s help to stabilize the Demon Realm and solidify her rule.

Luo Nianshang had no reason to refuse, but she still couldn’t fully comprehend the Demon Lord’s motives.

Qiu Yingxi differed from her predecessors in one crucial aspect: ambition.

The previous Demon Lords, upon ascending to power, had become consumed by their desire for conquest. They had coveted the righteous realm, their ambitions ultimately leading to their downfall.

But Qiu Yingxi hadn’t shown any such desires. That was why Luo Nianshang had hesitated to strike her down.

She stared at the Demon Lord’s smiling face, remembering the absurdity of those two dream encounters, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “I’m not good at acting,” she admitted.

The Demon Lord, leaning back, her posture relaxed, chuckled. “I can tell,” she said. “But I have a solution.”

Before Luo Nianshang could ask what she had in mind, she felt a warmth against her cheek.

She stared at the Demon Lord, who was beaming triumphantly, her emotions cycling through confusion, shock, and then, finally, rage. She had played her role perfectly.

She suddenly realized that the cat and dog hadn’t returned. Concerned, she closed her eyes, sensing the bells she had given them. When she opened her eyes, her expression was troubled.

She sighed. “Oh well.”

***

Meanwhile, Bai Jingxue’s fear of water reached new heights. She had drowned in her past life, and now, she had fallen into a well. She had tried to use her newfound strength to carry Lü Qingyan out, but the water in the well was thick and viscous, hindering her movements.

She had resigned herself to her fate, but as she sank, her body passed through a shimmering membrane, as if a giant bubble had burst, and she plummeted into darkness.

She landed on soft grass, Lü Qingyan beside her. The sensation of air filling her lungs was a welcome relief.

She gasped, shaking the water from her fur.

Seeing that Lü Qingyan was still unconscious, she nudged her with her paw.

“Qingyan, Qingyan!”

She called out over a dozen times, but there was no response.

Bai Jingxue thought back to her past life, remembering how she had dealt with Lü Qingyan’s tendency to oversleep.

It had been simple. Lü Qingyan was incredibly ticklish. Whenever she refused to get out of bed, Bai Jingxue would tickle her armpits until she surrendered.

Lü Qingyan had eventually started wrapping herself in the blankets, hoping to shield herself from Bai Jingxue’s tickling attacks. But they shared a bed, and if Lü Qingyan hogged the blankets, Bai Jingxue would freeze.

After Bai Jingxue had caught a cold, Lü Qingyan had never wrapped herself in the blankets again.

Remembering this, Bai Jingxue couldn’t help but chuckle.

She looked down at her paws, then at the dog, lying on her back, her paws in the air. A mischievous smile curved her lips.

But her plan backfired. She couldn’t extend her claws, and Lü Qingyan’s thick fur made it difficult to tickle her effectively.

She sighed, giving up. The scenery here was quite pleasant. She might as well take a nap.

She yawned, resting her head on Lü Qingyan’s belly.

She felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. She yawned again, then drifted off to sleep…

A young woman, a basket strapped to her back, picked a dandelion, blowing on it, watching as the seeds scattered in the wind. She tossed aside the stem, a smile curving her lips.

Her basket was filled with medicinal herbs. She adjusted the straps, making it more comfortable to carry, then wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve.

She continued on her journey home, her path leading her to the sleeping cat and dog.

She crouched down, her gaze fixed on the two creatures, then gently poked Bai Jingxue’s cheek, her voice soft. “So cute,” she murmured.

Unbeknownst to them, they were placed in the woman’s basket and carried away.

Lü Qingyan was the first to wake up. She smelled the pungent aroma of medicinal herbs, then felt a warmth against her belly.

She opened her eyes to see Bai Jingxue’s head resting on her.

She perked up her ears, then froze, not wanting to disturb the cat.

But her movements had been too abrupt. Bai Jingxue slowly opened her eyes.

Bai Jingxue’s face burned, and she silently thanked her fur for concealing her blush.

“You’re awake?” a gentle voice said. “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”

Bai Jingxue looked up, her gaze widening as she saw the woman standing before them. Once again, she marveled at the abundance of beautiful women in the cultivation world.

This woman resembled a dewdrop, her presence refreshing and calming.

Judging by the simple furnishings and the scent of herbs clinging to her clothes, Bai Jingxue guessed she was a healer.

But they had fallen into a well. Why would there be a healer in a well? She was expecting a vengeful spirit.

Bai Jingxue leaped out of the basket, her gaze sweeping over the room.

“Yue Lian, I’m coming to help!” a voice called out.

Yue Lian, presumably the woman’s name, hurried out of the room.

“Grandpa, I told you I could handle it myself,” she said. “I’m strong. A little work won’t kill me.”

An old man, his hair white, his pants rolled up to his knees, entered the room. He frowned at the cat and dog. “You’re picking up strays again?” he grumbled.

The girl giggled. “I promise, this is the last time, Grandpa,” she said. “Please let me keep them.”

Lü Qingyan, finally realizing something was wrong, panicked. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice filled with confusion. “Weren’t we at the Ejian Sect? Where are we?”

Bai Jingxue, staring at the clueless dog, thought, “2G internet speed strikes again.”

“We’re in a well,” she said dryly.

Lü Qingyan stared at her, assuming she was joking. Why would there be people in a well?

Bai Jingxue sighed, not bothering to explain. She tried to contact Luo Nianshang through the bell, but although it glowed, there was no response.

Those bells were always unreliable when she needed them most.

She couldn’t rely on others. She had to figure this out herself.

She circulated her spiritual energy, relieved to discover that it was functioning normally.

The girl returned, carrying two bowls of porridge. Calling it “porridge,” however, was generous. It was mostly water.

“Here you go,” she said, her voice kind. “Don’t be shy.”

The cat and dog exchanged a look of disgust.

“This family seems to be struggling,” Lü Qingyan whispered.

Bai Jingxue glanced at her. “There’s a saying,” she said.

Lü Qingyan tilted her head. “What saying?”

Bai Jingxue’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “A dog doesn’t despise a poor home.”

Lü Qingyan blinked. “But I’m the Demon Lord’s dog,” she said.

Bai Jingxue chuckled. The dog still remembered her allegiance to the Demon Lord. She hid her amusement.

Yue Lian left, returning to her task of preparing medicinal herbs.

Bai Jingxue had no interest in the watery porridge. They had fallen from a well, so she leaped onto the roof of the dilapidated house.

She looked up at the sky, but it was clear and blue, devoid of any unusual activity.

Where were they?

***

Luo Nianshang stared at the reflection in her water mirror, the cat’s confused face clearly visible. She shifted her perspective, and Yue Lian’s smiling face appeared.

She sighed, then dispelled the spell.

She tried to divine their location, but fate was shrouded in mist, its secrets hidden from her.

Meanwhile, news of the Demon Lord’s injury at the hands of the Sword Saint spread throughout the Demon Realm. Initially, everyone had simply observed, waiting to see how the situation would unfold.

Some, feigning concern, had requested an audience with the Demon Lord, but they had all been turned away by the new left envoy.

Then, a few days later, someone had claimed to have seen the Demon Lord’s life lamp flickering, its flame weak and unstable. The Demon Lord’s bedchamber was heavily guarded, no visitors allowed.

Rumors spread, fueled by those who sought to exploit the situation. They claimed the Demon Lord was on her deathbed.

The left envoy dutifully reported these rumors to the Demon Lord.

“Your Excellency, Lin’an, Fu Yue, and six other nearby cities have been secretly communicating,” she said. “There’s also unrest in the north and west. The east remains stable.”

The Demon Lord, idly tossing a spirit fruit in the air, chuckled. “More fish than I expected.”

The left envoy, her loyalty unwavering, seethed with anger towards those who dared to challenge her lord.

“What are your next steps, Your Excellency?”

The Demon Lord caught the fruit, wiping it with her sleeve before taking a bite. The sweet juice improved her mood.

She frowned, as if deep in thought. “My next steps?”

The left envoy sat up straighter, eager to hear her lord’s brilliant plan.

“What should I do next?”

The left envoy’s anticipation grew. She didn’t want to miss a single detail of the Demon Lord’s wise decision.

But the Demon Lord wasn’t thinking about the Demon Realm. She was thinking about Luo Nianshang.

She rested her chin on her hand, her smile dreamy, as if she were a lovestruck maiden. “Hehehe.”

The left envoy was baffled. What did “hehehe” even mean?

Chapter 42: Acting

The Demon Lord would never have imagined that the final test for the Sword Saint’s disciples would be cooking.

Her confidence in her own culinary skills had vanished after a single bite of her own cooking.

Hidden in the shadows, she took a vicious bite of a spirit fruit, muttering, “Is she choosing a disciple or a chef?”

She tossed aside the core, her gaze fixed on the platform.

It was usually used for sparring matches, but now, it held four makeshift stoves. Disciples had gathered around the platform, eager to witness the spectacle.

Luo Nianshang, considering her disciple’s preferences, had chosen only female candidates for the final round.

The contestants, their cooking stations prepared, stood with their eyes closed, calming their minds before the competition began.

The Demon Lord focused her will, and one of the girls opened her eyes, rubbing them sleepily.

The Demon Lord nodded in satisfaction. Puppetry was surprisingly easy to learn, but controlling multiple puppets simultaneously was tricky, especially since she was a novice.

But she couldn’t allow Luo Nianshang to take on other disciples. The thought of it filled her with an unbearable sense of unease.

She had devised the perfect solution. If all three disciples were her, then the problem would be solved.

She was a genius.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Her smug self-satisfaction shattered, and she looked down to see her dog wagging its tail at her from the base of the tree.

Lü Qingyan teleported, landing beside the Demon Lord, then leaped onto her head.

The Demon Lord pulled her down, her voice laced with annoyance. “Are you getting heavier?”

Lü Qingyan bristled. She and Jingxue had come down to gather information. She had been delighted to see the Demon Lord.

And the first thing the Demon Lord did was comment on her weight.

Rude!

The dog’s anger, however, amused the Demon Lord.

She placed Lü Qingyan on her lap, her voice laced with amusement. “Why aren’t you with Little White?” she asked. “Did you miss me that much?”

Lü Qingyan rolled her eyes, then barked at Bai Jingxue, who was sitting at the base of the tree. “Jingxue, I’m up here!”

Bai Jingxue, seeing the Demon Lord perched on the branch, was speechless.

Wasn’t the Demon Realm in turmoil? Why wasn’t the Demon Lord concerned?

She didn’t feel like climbing the tree, so she simply sat down, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to know who Luo Nianshang would choose as her disciples.

But when she looked up again, the Demon Lord was gone.

Lü Qingyan jumped down from the tree, settling beside Bai Jingxue.

“Where’s the Demon Lord?” Bai Jingxue asked.

Lü Qingyan shook her head. The Demon Lord had vanished in a blink.

The Ejian Sect’s protective formation was no obstacle for the Demon Lord. She easily bypassed it, finding Luo Nianshang.

Luo Nianshang, sitting on the roof of her chamber, opened her eyes as she sensed the Demon Lord’s approach. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice cold.

The Demon Lord landed gracefully beside her, a smile curving her lips. “I’m here to make a deal, Venerable One.”

“A deal?”

Luo Nianshang couldn’t comprehend this woman’s motives. This third Demon Lord was far more troublesome than her predecessors.

The Demon Lord nodded, her playful demeanor vanishing as she said, “Tell me, Venerable One, are you a good actress?”

***

A leaf drifted down, landing on Bai Jingxue’s head. She shook it off, then turned her attention to the disciples on the platform, their culinary skills on full display.

One of the girls moved stiffly, her movements jerky, as if she were a puppet.

“Is there something wrong with that girl?” Bai Jingxue asked Lü Qingyan, her brow furrowed.

Lü Qingyan looked up, her gaze fixed on the girl. “Something’s definitely off.”

The girl, as if sensing their scrutiny, resumed her cooking, her knife skills impressive.

She sliced the tofu into thin strands, her movements precise and swift.

But that wasn’t what Lü Qingyan found strange. The girl’s knife skills were excellent, but when she tossed the sliced ingredients into the wok, their color changed, turning an unsettling shade of gray.

Lü Qingyan, even from this distance, could smell the foul odor. She covered her nose. “How can her knife skills be so good, yet her cooking so terrible?”

Bai Jingxue stared at the unidentifiable grayish-black mass in the wok, swallowing nervously.

She no longer cared why the contestant seemed off. She simply hoped this girl wouldn’t be chosen. She didn’t want to find that abomination in her food bowl.

Time was up. Bai Jingxue, seeing Fu Yuan seated among the judges, frowned.

“Don’t you think Fu Yuan is appearing a bit too often?” she asked Lü Qingyan.

Lü Qingyan tilted her head. “Is there something wrong with that?”

There was nothing inherently wrong with it. It was simply that Fu Yuan had been a minor character in the original story, her appearances mostly limited to intimate scenes with the male lead. This Fu Yuan, however, was a fully fleshed-out character, her presence a constant in their lives.

But it was a welcome change. These peaceful, ordinary days were precious. She didn’t want to encounter the male lead, nor did she want to witness another clash between Luo Nianshang and the Demon Lord.

“It’s fine,” Bai Jingxue said, lying down.

Lü Qingyan, however, was completely engrossed in the cooking competition. She chuckled, watching Fu Yuan hesitantly poke the grayish-black mass with her chopsticks.

“Good thing I don’t have to eat that,” she said, her tail wagging.

Fu Yuan, of course, didn’t want to eat it either, but she couldn’t be rude. She forced a smile, her voice gentle. “Did you do this intentionally, or was it an accident?”

The Demon Lord, her attention now focused on Luo Nianshang, had loosened her control over the puppet.

The puppet, lacking sentience, responded to stimuli with simple, preprogrammed answers. If asked to choose between option one and option two, it would always choose the first one.

Fu Yuan received a response that made her want to scream. The puppet, its smile innocent, replied, “Intentionally.”

Fu Yuan’s face contorted in horror. She took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she reached for the abomination.

A sword cry echoed through the Ejian Sect, followed by a powerful gust of wind and Luo Nianshang’s furious roar.

“Demon Lord! How dare you disrupt my sect!”

Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan clung to the tree, their claws digging into the bark, barely managing to stay upright as the wind whipped around them.

Objects flew through the air, a chaotic whirlwind of pots, pans, and cooking utensils. Weaker disciples were sent tumbling across the ground.

Lü Qingyan, watching the debris fly past, chuckled. “Good thing we held onto the tree.”

But her laughter was cut short as a small, grayish-black mass was blown into her open mouth.

She spat it out, but the lingering taste was so horrific that she instantly fainted.

It had all happened so quickly. Bai Jingxue, seeing Lü Qingyan being swept away, reached out with her paw, but she couldn’t grab her.

Panicked, she let go of the tree, using the wind’s force to chase after Lü Qingyan.

She caught the dog, cradling her in her arms. But as small creatures, they were easily carried by the wind, their bodies tossed around like leaves. They eventually landed in a well.

The wind finally subsided, and the disciples looked up to see Luo Nianshang and the Demon Lord hovering in the air, their bodies covered in wounds. They had clearly been fighting.

The Demon Lord wiped the blood from her lips, her smile seductive, despite her conservative attire. “Why so angry, Sword Saint?” she purred. “I simply wanted to see your new disciples.”

Luo Nianshang’s face was flushed, her eyes blazing with fury. “Frostbite!” she roared.

The world around them stilled, the air freezing. There was no visible sword light. The Demon Lord found herself trapped within a sword made of ice.

She could have resisted, but she chose to play along, feigning weakness as she allowed herself to be captured.

The disciples watched as the ice sword, containing the Demon Lord, descended, embedding itself in the ground.

Before they could celebrate their victory, the Demon Lord laughed, and cracks began to appear in the ice surrounding her. The cracks widened, and the ice sword shattered, its fragments dissolving into dust.

The Demon Lord, emerging from the shattered ice, her face pale, coughed up a mouthful of blood. “You’re impressive, Sword Saint,” she said, her voice weak.

She produced her poison pearl, a malicious smile curving her lips. “Guess what I’m going to do now?”

The disciples paled.

The Demon Lord’s true strength lay in her mastery of poisons. Her toxins could corrode flesh, dissolve souls, and instill terror in the hearts of even the bravest cultivators.

Seemingly pleased by their fear, her smile widened. “You injured me, Sword Saint,” she said. “I believe I’m owed some compensation.”

“Don’t you dare!” Luo Nianshang roared.

The Demon Lord twirled the pearl between her fingers, her smile seductive. “Let’s see if I dare, Venerable One,” she purred. “And I suggest you refrain from any rash actions. My poison is faster than your sword.”

The situation had taken a turn for the worse.

The Demon Lord, her gaze sweeping over the terrified disciples, was suddenly tackled from behind.

Luo Nianshang, her heart pounding, had been unsure if the Demon Lord was truly intending to unleash her poison or simply acting. But now, it seemed clear that this was all part of a performance.

She had been about to cast a spell to neutralize the poison, but she paused, her gaze fixed on the girl who had tackled the Demon Lord.

The girl, pinning the Demon Lord down, shouted, “Now!”

The Demon Lord, of course, wouldn’t have been subdued by a mere mortal. This was all staged, a carefully orchestrated performance.

Although it was a performance, the girl who had tackled the Demon Lord was unaware of the script. Her courage impressed Luo Nianshang.

The Demon Lord, seeing that the scene had reached its climax, decided to end the act. She shook off the puppet, then pretended to unleash her poison, coughing up another mouthful of blood, as if she had been struck by the backlash.

“Consider yourselves lucky,” she hissed.

She clutched her chest and vanished, transforming into a wisp of red smoke.

The crisis averted, Luo Nianshang landed gracefully beside the unconscious puppet.

“Cough, cough, cough!”

Fu Yuan, covered in dirt, emerged from beneath a pile of rubble.

Luo Nianshang, seeing that she was unharmed, pointed at the puppet. “Who is this?”

Fu Yuan recognized her. “She’s one of your disciple candidates, Master.”

Luo Nianshang nodded. “She will be my disciple,” she said, her voice firm.

Fu Yuan’s breath caught in her throat. She glanced at Luo Nianshang’s serious expression, then sighed, accepting her fate.