Category: I Am the Female Lead’s Cat

Chapter 81: You Too

Back in their room, Lü Qingyan was still sulking. She lay on the table, her ears drooping, her tail still.

Bai Jingxue had been meditating on the bed, but the dog’s whimpering was distracting. She opened her eyes, got out of bed, and sat down opposite the dog, sipping her tea.

“Knock, knock.”

They heard a knock on the door, followed by Zhu Er’s tired voice. “Are you back?”

Bai Jingxue waved her hand, and the door opened, revealing Zhu Er.

Zhu Er, never one for formalities, entered the room, settling onto a chair near the door. Seeing that they were both unharmed, she relaxed.

“Thank goodness you’re both okay,” she said, her voice filled with relief. “I was so worried.”

It was always comforting to be cared for. Lü Qingyan’s gloomy mood lifted slightly, and she chuckled, her voice tinged with a hint of bravado. “That was nothing! We’ve encountered far stronger opponents.”

She wasn’t exaggerating. Luo Nianshang alone was worth a thousand ordinary cultivators. But this was the past. She wasn’t sure what Luo Nianshang’s current state was.

The last time they had seen her in that illusion, she had been a child, shorter than her own sword. What about now?

Bai Jingxue suddenly wanted to visit the Ejian Sect. Perhaps, if they were lucky, they might encounter Luo Nianshang as an infant, or maybe even a teenager.

It felt like they were collecting Luo Nianshang merchandise.

She mentally scoffed at the thought, but she couldn’t deny her curiosity.

If Luo Nianshang was truly an infant, could she hold her? And when they returned to the present, she could say, “I even held you when you were a baby.”

It was an amusing thought, but since this was an illusion, even if she held Luo Nianshang, the real Luo Nianshang wouldn’t remember it.

Sensing that her thoughts were straying too far, she took a sip of her tea.

Lü Qingyan was still praising the Ejian Sect, her words painting a wonderful picture of the sect, making Zhu Er’s eyes sparkle with longing. “Can you take me with you when you return?” she asked. “I want to experience it too.”

Lü Qingyan’s voice caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if the Ejian Sect even existed in this time period. If it didn’t, then she would be a liar.

Her initial enthusiasm vanished. “The Ejian Sect has strict rules,” she said. “Outsiders aren’t allowed.”

Zhu Er blinked. “But I’m a spider,” she said. “I’m not human.”

That was a valid point. Lü Qingyan couldn’t argue with that, so she resorted to simply refusing. “No means no.”

Zhu Er’s shoulders slumped, her disappointment evident. She mirrored Lü Qingyan’s previous posture, her head resting on her arms, the only difference being her lack of furry ears and tail.

Lü Qingyan, feeling a pang of guilt, decided to try a different approach. “The Ejian Sect isn’t that great,” she said, hoping to discourage Zhu Er. “The rules are strict. You can’t indulge in worldly desires. You have to attend classes and practice swordsmanship every day. You have to wake up before the chickens and sleep later than the dogs. It’s all about cultivation and training. It’s incredibly boring.”

“Huh?”

Lü Qingyan, assuming she had succeeded, chuckled. “So you see, you wouldn’t fit in there.”

But Zhu Er simply shook her head, her eyes shining with an even stronger longing. “No wonder your sect has so many powerful cultivators,” she said. “Perhaps my laziness would disappear there.”

Lü Qingyan was speechless. She had assumed that Zhu Er, who seemed to enjoy their company, would also dislike boring routines. But this little demon was a workaholic.

Why was everyone around her so driven? It made her, the lazy one, seem even lazier.

She glared at Bai Jingxue, who was sipping her tea, the epitome of hard work, then sighed, slumping back onto the table.

Bai Jingxue set down her teacup, her gaze fixed on Zhu Er. “You can come with us,” she said.

Zhu Er immediately jumped up, her voice filled with joy. “Yay!”

Bai Jingxue, watching her jump around, felt a surge of dissonance. She had a mature face and a childish voice, and she looked a lot like Luo Nianshang.

It was hard to imagine Luo Nianshang being this cheerful and energetic. Bai Jingxue lowered her gaze, taking another sip of her tea to calm her nerves.

Unlike Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan, Zhu Er’s cultivation was weak. She still needed sleep.

She had been worried about them, unable to sleep until they had returned safely. Now, reassured, she yawned. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “Goodnight.”

Bai Jingxue nodded. “Goodnight.”

Zhu Er had grown accustomed to Bai Jingxue’s quiet nature, though she found her a bit boring. But saying that would be hurtful, so she simply rubbed her eyes and left.

As she descended the stairs, she spotted Er Ya standing at the landing. The girl’s sudden appearance startled her, chasing away her sleepiness. Recognizing Er Ya, she discreetly withdrew the silk threads she had been about to unleash.

She crouched down, her voice laced with a hint of annoyance. “Why are you standing here?” she asked. “Go to bed.”

Er Ya lowered her head, then retrieved a flower from her pocket, offering it to Zhu Er.

Zhu Er, seeing the delicate blue flower, her annoyance melting away, accepted it, her voice filled with surprise. “For me?”

Er Ya nodded. “It’s a plumbago,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s pretty.”

Zhu Er wasn’t familiar with flowers. She had spent most of her life in that small temple, which had once been a popular destination for pilgrims. She was, however, an expert on offerings.

But this was the first time she had received a flower, even if it was from a child she had just met. The joy it brought her was undeniable.

She smiled, accepting the flower, then scooped Er Ya up, carrying her to their room.

She chatted with Er Ya as they walked.

“How old are you, Er Ya?”

“Almost ten.”

“Is your name really just Er Ya? Do you have another name?”

Er Ya shook her head. “No.”

Zhu Er thought the name was rather unappealing. She wanted to give the girl a new, beautiful name.

But she was just an illiterate spider spirit. She had even chosen her own name randomly. How could she possibly name someone else?

She abandoned the thought.

Back in their room, she removed Er Ya’s shoes and socks, then tucked her into bed.

The girl’s small frame was swallowed by the luxurious blanket, only her face visible. Her eyes, dark and wide, stared up at Zhu Er, their expression innocent and trusting.

Zhu Er suddenly remembered the birds that had lived in the tree outside the temple. They had always tried to catch her, but she had been too strong for them.

She had spent most of her time in her spider form, her favorite activities napping on the dusty statues and hanging upside down from the rafters. During storms, the wind would blow her back and forth. It had been fun.

But storms were rare. The most common sight she had witnessed while hanging upside down had been those two lovebirds showing off their affection.

They would even taunt her for being alone, making her so angry that she would chase them, plucking out their feathers.

But she had never harmed them. She had been raised on incense smoke. She wasn’t inherently malicious.

It had been a good life, filled with playful banter and occasional moments of genuine connection.

But then the birds had laid a clutch of eggs, and after the eggs had hatched, they had been too busy feeding their chicks to bother with her.

Then, they had flown away. And a long time later, a fire had swept through the area, reducing the tree to ashes.

She had continued to hang upside down from the rafters, but there was nothing left to watch.

“What are you thinking about, Sister Zhu Er?”

The girl’s innocent voice brought her back to the present. She stared at Er Ya, her eyes sparkling, then gently pinched her cheek. “I was thinking about how cute you are,” she said. “How could those two be so cruel to you?”

Er Ya, not daring to resist, shook her head. “They were much kinder than my previous parents,” she said.

Zhu Er didn’t understand, but she settled onto the bed, tucking the blanket around Er Ya. “Go to sleep,” she said.

Er Ya closed her eyes, her breathing soon evening out. The bed was comfortable. She quickly fell asleep.

Seeing that the girl was asleep, Zhu Er retrieved the blue flower from her sleeve, her gaze lingering on it for a long time, then she carefully wrapped it in silk threads.

She couldn’t sleep. She was excited about their upcoming trip to the Ejian Sect. It sounded like a lively place.

Anticipation filled her heart as the night wore on, the darkness eventually fading, the morning sun painting the sky in hues of gold and rose.

She quickly washed Er Ya’s face, then led her to the staircase, where they waited for Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan.

Bai Jingxue, seeing Zhu Er’s excitement, felt that familiar sense of dissonance. She had a mature face and a childish voice, and she looked a lot like Luo Nianshang.

It was hard to imagine Luo Nianshang being this cheerful. She lowered her gaze, taking a sip of her tea to calm her nerves.

Lü Qingyan was also feeling a mix of emotions. It was like watching your carefree, party-loving friend suddenly transform into a workaholic.

But ambition and curiosity weren’t bad traits.

She wasn’t jealous. She was simply surprised.

They exchanged greetings, then returned their keys to the innkeeper, stepping outside.

But as they exited the inn, they saw two familiar figures.

Fang Xin and Fang Yue Lian were standing at the entrance. They were alive. This meant they were in a time period between the cousins’ entry into the Ejian Sect and Fang Xin’s death.

Lü Qingyan, startled, then overjoyed, shouted, “Fang!”

Bai Jingxue quickly covered her mouth, silencing her with a glare.

But the word had been spoken clearly. The Fang cousins, their cultivation levels high, had heard it.

Fang Xin, her brow furrowed, asked, “Do you know us?”

Bai Jingxue, her voice calm, lied smoothly. “Your reputation precedes you, honored immortals,” she said. “We have long admired you. She’s simply a bit excited.”

The Ejian Sect was still a small, insignificant sect. They had no reputation. Neither did the Fang cousins.

Fang Xin sensed something was amiss, but it wasn’t entirely implausible. Reputation was a fickle thing.

But they were demons. Were they famous in the Demon Realm?

She dismissed the thought, her voice direct. “Are you affiliated with any sect?”

Bai Jingxue was about to say no, but she had forgotten about Zhu Er.

“They’re from the Ejian Sect,” Zhu Er blurted out.

Silence fell.

Chapter 80: Pity

“A dog meddling in a rat’s business?” It seemed this was a rather well-read rat.

But Bai Jingxue was a cat demon. Meddling was in her nature.

The scene was gruesome, the little rat’s appearance repulsive. Without hesitation, Bai Jingxue unleashed a burst of fire, its golden-red flames illuminating the darkness.

The rat demon, who had been lazily gnawing on the corpse, sensed the approaching threat, his instincts screaming at him to flee.

He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the flames, which scorched his tail, leaving behind a trail of blisters.

The blisters spread rapidly, and he quickly severed his tail.

This was a problem. He had assumed his opponent was only at the early Golden Core stage. He, at the peak of Golden Core, should have been able to easily defeat them.

But this cat demon’s flames were strange and dangerous. He could be killed if he wasn’t careful. But he had lived a long life. His cunning mind quickly devised a plan.

A malicious grin spread across his furry face, and in a blink, he vanished, reappearing before Bai Jingxue, who was too inexperienced to react in time.

He lunged, his jaws snapping at Bai Jingxue’s neck.

His cultivation had been achieved through devouring others. The more he consumed, the stronger he became. He could also absorb the abilities of his victims. He was eager to claim those powerful flames for himself.

But a fist slammed into his face, sending him flying. He stumbled, his vision blurring, blood and teeth spraying from his mouth.

Lü Qingyan, having successfully punched the rat demon, rushed over to Bai Jingxue, her voice filled with concern. “Are you okay, Jingxue?”

Bai Jingxue, pushing aside Lü Qingyan’s frantic hands, said calmly, “I’m fine. Just a bit nauseated by his breath.”

Lü Qingyan, relieved, felt a surge of anger. She had been an athlete in her past life. Her reflexes were far sharper than Bai Jingxue’s.

She was about to teach the rat demon a lesson when she realized he was gone.

“Where did he go?!”

Bai Jingxue stepped in front of Lü Qingyan, shielding her. The rat demon was incredibly fast. Her flames, though powerful, were useless if they didn’t connect.

The faint, lingering scent of demonic energy suggested the danger hadn’t passed. He was hiding, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

He was a powerful demon resorting to cowardly tactics. Bai Jingxue scoffed.

He thought he could hide from her, but she possessed a unique ability.

She closed her eyes, then opened them, her vision enhanced. She could now perceive the flow of all gases, even the subtle movements of air. She scanned the area, then her gaze fell upon the ground.

Lü Qingyan sniffed the air, then also looked down.

She summoned her guqin, levitating it with her spiritual energy, then began to play.

Her music, unlike the gentle tunes she had played for Bai Jingxue in their past life, was filled with a murderous intent, its tempo rapid and aggressive.

Bai Jingxue also drew her sword. Luo Nianshang was a sword master, so Bai Jingxue had been learning swordsmanship, though her skills were still rudimentary.

Moonlight glinted off the silver blade as she channeled her spiritual energy into it, striking the ground. The earth split open, but the rat demon had already moved, his speed enhanced by his demonic energy.

Lü Qingyan’s music had slowed him down, but Bai Jingxue’s second strike still missed.

This brought back unpleasant memories. She had always been unlucky, especially when it came to games.

Whenever she had accompanied Lü Qingyan to the mall, they would often visit the arcade. Lü Qingyan had always been a master at claw machines, effortlessly winning prizes, while Bai Jingxue had even managed to knock a prize back into the machine.

She had also been terrible at whack-a-mole, her slow reflexes failing her. But she had refused to acknowledge her own shortcomings, attributing her failures to her bad luck.

She had often stared at the bright red “0” on the arcade machine screen, her frustration so intense that she had wanted to smash it to pieces, but her poverty and her upbringing had restrained her.

But this situation was no different from whack-a-mole.

Her anger boiled over. She sheathed her sword, then landed gracefully on the ground. She unleashed her frustration upon the earth, ripping it apart, creating a deep chasm.

The rat demon, exposed, his eyes wide with terror, his mind frozen, stared at her, forgetting to flee.

She hadn’t used her spiritual energy. She had done it with her bare hands.

Her flames surged towards him, and he dodged, then, his relief short-lived, he looked up to see a sea of fire surrounding him, blocking his escape.

His heart pounding, he transformed into his rat form, burrowing into the ground, but the flames pursued him, their heat searing his fur.

He glanced back, his fear intensifying as he saw the flames approaching. He dug frantically, but he couldn’t escape.

He tried to extinguish the flames with his demonic energy, but it was useless. His magic simply fueled the fire. He resumed his desperate flight.

He ran and ran, finally breaking free from the flames, their heat fading behind him. He changed direction, digging upwards, finally emerging from the earth.

He couldn’t defeat those strange flames, but if he eliminated the cat demon, the threat would vanish.

And she was on the ground, while the other one was in the air, playing that cursed guqin. They were separated. He wouldn’t be caught off guard this time.

He channeled his demonic energy, overcoming the suppressive effects of the guqin, then charged towards Bai Jingxue, his jaws open, aiming for her neck.

But before he could reach her, a black guqin materialized before him, then slammed into his face, sending him flying.

He rolled across the ground, his vision blurring, blood spraying from his mouth. “How?!” he gasped, his voice filled with disbelief.

Lü Qingyan wiped the guqin, her voice satisfied. “That worked well.”

It was a good thing Zhu Chi wasn’t here. The sight of this unorthodox attack would have given her a heart attack.

The rat demon couldn’t understand what was happening. He had simply wanted to enjoy a nice human meal. How had he encountered these two powerful demons? If he didn’t escape now, he would become their dinner.

He abandoned his attack, letting out a shrill cry, and the ground around them began to tremble.

Countless rats surged towards them, their numbers so vast that they covered the ground, a writhing, squeaking sea of fur.

They devoured everything in their path: grass, trees, even the walls, their teeth sharp, their appetites insatiable.

Bai Jingxue, her scalp tingling, grabbed Lü Qingyan, pulling her into the air.

Lü Qingyan plucked the strings of her guqin, her music exploding, sending rats flying, but their corpses were quickly devoured by the others, strengthening them, rendering her music ineffective.

Bai Jingxue’s flames, however, still worked, reducing the rats to ashes.

Bai Jingxue, staring at the devastation, felt a surge of frustration. She had intended to slay the rat demon, but he had escaped.

Lü Qingyan’s frustration was more vocal. “Damn it!” she shouted, stamping her foot. “He got away!”

Bai Jingxue quickly regained her composure. They had done well. Two newly transformed Nascent Soul demons had forced a peak Nascent Soul demon to flee.

She patted Lü Qingyan’s shoulder. “Let’s go back,” she said.

Dwelling on it was pointless. He had escaped.

Lü Qingyan, her shoulders slumped, followed Bai Jingxue, leaving the carnage behind.

A while later, two figures arrived, one of them carrying the rat demon’s severed head.

Fang Xin stored the head in her spatial ring, then landed, examining the charred remains of the rat demon’s army.

Fang Yue Lian, remaining in the air, her gaze sweeping over the scene, her voice laced with a hint of surprise, said, “Those two demons are quite special.”

Fang Xin, collecting a sample of the ashes in a small jade vial, nodded. They had arrived a moment too late, witnessing the battle between the cat and dog and the rat demon. They hadn’t intervened, but this area, though secluded, wasn’t completely deserted.

The commotion, the music, the fire, the earth-shattering attacks… if Fang Xin and Fang Yue Lian hadn’t concealed their presence, rumors would have spread throughout the mortal realm.

Fang Xin joined Fang Yue Lian on the rooftop. “I’m staying here for a few more days,” she said.

That rat demon’s unexpected appearance had piqued her curiosity. She wanted to investigate.

Fang Yue Lian, her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed on Fang Xin, nodded. They had completed their mission, but she shared Fang Xin’s curiosity. “I’ll stay with you,” she said. “But we should inform the Imperial Advisor.”

The mission had been issued by the Imperial Advisor. She wasn’t sure how a mere mortal had learned about the existence of cultivators, but then she remembered that she and Yue Lian had also been mortals once. She dismissed the thought.

Technically, they were overstepping their boundaries. This area was under the jurisdiction of another sect, but that sect was weak, unable to even handle a peak Nascent Soul rat demon.

But the Ejian Sect, by handling this matter, would earn both spirit stones and a good reputation. That was important for a growing sect.

Fang Xin, her thoughts drifting, suddenly had an idea. Those two demons seemed to be righteous. They would be valuable assets to the sect.

They were demons, which was a problem, but with a bit of disguise, no one would know.

She suddenly thought of the Imperial Advisor, and she couldn’t help but sigh. “If only we had met him ten years earlier,” she said. “Such a waste of a good ice spiritual root.”

Fang Yue Lian knew who she was referring to. They had met the Imperial Advisor and had discovered his exceptional talent. His ice spiritual root was incredibly pure, almost overwhelmingly powerful.

But it hadn’t been properly nurtured, and it had eventually damaged his body. He was now nearing the end of his life.

Fang Yue Lian, however, was an optimist. “It’s a shame he doesn’t have any children,” she said. “Judging by his constitution, his descendants might have inherited his talent.”

Her words, spoken casually, sparked an idea in Fang Xin’s mind. Her eyes lit up. “You’re right.”

Seeing her excitement, Fang Yue Lian’s smile faltered. “Sister, what are you thinking?”

“Matchmaking,” Fang Xin replied, her voice filled with a mischievous glee.

Chapter 79: Hehe

The Demon Lord had initially planned to simply disguise herself as a demon and stay by Luo Nianshang’s side, hoping to ward off any potential rivals.

But how had things escalated to this?! This wasn’t what had happened in the dream!

She felt a surge of resentment. Since becoming the Demon Lord, her life had been smooth sailing. Those who had dared to challenge her had been swiftly eliminated.

She hadn’t expected to be so thoroughly defeated.

Her consciousness drifted in and out, like a small boat tossed about by the waves. In her moments of lucidity, she was mortified by her current predicament. She closed her eyes, biting her lip, suppressing any sounds that might compromise her dignity.

Suddenly, the sensations stopped. She assumed it was over. She was disappointed, but also angry. She glared at Luo Nianshang, her cheeks flushed, her long hair plastered to her skin, her body hidden beneath the water.

“You’re not so impressive,” she scoffed, her voice laced with disdain.

Luo Nianshang, who had been struggling to regain control, her mind battling against the insidious voice whispering in her ear, lost her composure again, hearing those words.

She had lived a long life. She had seen countless beauties, but the Demon Lord’s beauty was different, vibrant and alluring, a stark contrast to the serenity of this secluded location.

She had always disliked demon cultivators, especially the Demon Lord.

Memories surfaced: the Demon Lord’s taunts, her expressions of anger, disdain, even disgust.

But just now, she had seen a different expression on the Demon Lord’s face: her eyes closed, her lips bitten white, tears escaping her lashes, mingling with the spring water.

Luo Nianshang had found that expression captivating. But now, the Demon Lord had resumed her usual demeanor.

“Consume her.”

The thought appeared in her mind, unbidden, her eyes darkening, the red patterns at the corners of her eyes intensifying, her cold beauty taking on a seductive edge.

She stared at the Demon Lord, her gaze intense.

The Demon Lord, sensing danger, tried to escape, but Luo Nianshang grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

She stared at Luo Nianshang, her heart sinking. Her hands were trapped. She tried to kick, but Luo Nianshang simply whispered, “Still.”

“Still your head! Luo Nianshang, you…”

Her curses were silenced as Luo Nianshang, ignoring her, retrieved a piece of her torn robe, using it to bind the Demon Lord’s wrists.

The Demon Lord, speechless, stared at her, her mind reeling.

That robe was hers, her favorite red robe, but now, the color seemed to mock her.

She had never been interested in such matters, but as the Demon Lord, she was aware of them. But Luo Nianshang, that cold and righteous woman…

Luo Nianshang had blushed and glared at her after that stolen kiss. She hadn’t expected her to be so… unrestrained.

She was stunned. Then, Luo Nianshang’s lips captured hers again, and she finally realized what was happening.

Resistance was futile. Luo Nianshang was stronger, both physically and spiritually. And she had a way of controlling her.

It wasn’t terrible. Luo Nianshang was the woman she loved, but she felt a surge of resentment. This wasn’t consensual.

She wanted to understand what was happening to Luo Nianshang, what those red patterns meant.

But she had no time to think. Luo Nianshang’s touch was gentle, but that gentleness only intensified her humiliation.

She closed her eyes, trying to hide her shame, then her eyes flew open, her heart pounding as she felt a strange wetness against her chest.

She had always viewed Luo Nianshang as a deity, her statue a source of comfort during her childhood, a shield against the rain, her only sanctuary.

She had huddled beneath that statue, pouring out her heart, her tears mingling with the rainwater, her sobs silent, afraid to draw attention to herself.

Her wishes had been simple: to have enough to eat, to escape the bullies who chased her away, who threw rocks at her, who aimed for her face.

She had believed that the deity could hear her, that she would take pity on her.

But it had been a naive fantasy.

The sensations were overwhelming, her heart aching. She whispered, her voice choked with tears, “Luo Nianshang, please stop.”

It was a plea for mercy, a surrender. She didn’t know if Luo Nianshang, in her current state, could even hear her.

She hoped she could, and she hoped she couldn’t.

But Luo Nianshang paused, then, to Qiu Yingxi’s surprise, gently pulled her into an embrace.

Her head resting on Luo Nianshang’s shoulder, her gaze falling upon Luo Nianshang’s delicate collarbone, she felt a hand stroking her hair.

Luo Nianshang’s voice, husky and low, reached her ears. “Good girl,” she murmured.

Qiu Yingxi, her body responding to that seductive tone, felt a surge of desire. She chuckled, a self-deprecating sound, then closed her eyes.

“Continue,” she whispered.

She didn’t know when it ended. She had lost consciousness. When she woke up, she was lying in a bed in a mortal inn.

Her head throbbed, and she tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced her back down.

If anyone saw her like this, she would be the laughingstock of the Demon Realm.

Her dignity was shattered. She pounded the bed in frustration.

The door suddenly opened, revealing Luo Nianshang, her expression cool and composed. Qiu Yingxi glared at her, her gaze murderous, as if she could burn holes through Luo Nianshang with her eyes.

Luo Nianshang also felt a surge of embarrassment. She hadn’t forgotten what had happened. She had been influenced by her inner demon, but her weakness was still her responsibility.

Perhaps she should avoid those scandalous books.

The usually reclusive Sword Saint had never made such a mistake. She shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to handle the situation. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice stiff.

Qiu Yingxi, her body aching, her anger simmering, grabbed a pillow, flinging it at Luo Nianshang, who didn’t even flinch.

As she threw the pillow, her sleeve slipped down, revealing faint red marks on her wrist. She felt a surge of despair.

This was a disaster! She had been the dominant one in the dream!

She was mortified by her own weakness. She tried to use her magic to erase the marks, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She was the Demon Lord. She couldn’t allow herself to be so affected by such a trivial matter. She forced a smile, her voice laced with a playful mockery. “What, Sword Saint?” she asked. “Are you going to take responsibility for me, like those characters in your storybooks?”

Luo Nianshang had considered it, but hearing those words spoken so dismissively, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

The Demon Lord was the ruler of an entire realm. A one-night stand was nothing to her.

Her previous thought had been disrespectful. “I apologize for my actions,” she said, her voice sincere. “Please, tell me what you want as compensation. As long as it’s within reason, I will grant it.”

The Demon Lord, staring at Luo Nianshang’s impassive face, her righteous aura almost suffocating, gritted her teeth.

She hadn’t thought about what she wanted. After all, she had been the one who had stalked Luo Nianshang, then, for her own amusement, had deliberately provoked her, leading to that… incident.

She had tasted the bitter fruit of her own actions.

But since Luo Nianshang had offered, she suddenly remembered the sword-shaped mark in her sea of consciousness.

That damn thing had rendered her helpless. She wouldn’t have been so easily subdued if it hadn’t been for that mark. She wouldn’t have been able to escape, but she wouldn’t have been so thoroughly defeated.

Her eyes lit up, and her tone softened. “Remove the restriction on my poison pearl,” she said.

She was a master of barriers, but this one had been placed on an object linked to her life force. She couldn’t risk tampering with it. One wrong move, and she would be dead.

Luo Nianshang had placed the restriction on the pearl because she had considered it too dangerous. But now, it seemed the pearl was deeply connected to the Demon Lord’s life force.

She remembered that she had once considered destroying the pearl. She shuddered.

She stared at the Demon Lord, her gaze lingering on her face, her usual smile hiding her true thoughts. Luo Nianshang couldn’t help but remember the Demon Lord’s unguarded expression during their intimate encounter.

She sensed a willingness, a consent that hadn’t been present before.

Seeing Luo Nianshang’s silence, the Demon Lord assumed she was unwilling. The thought of being controlled by Luo Nianshang in the future filled her with resentment, and she was about to unleash her usual sarcasm, but Luo Nianshang’s simple “Alright” silenced her.

Luo Nianshang, however, hesitated. “I didn’t intend to remove the restriction when I placed it,” she said. “It’s possible, but it’s a complex process. You’ll need to visit me every month. I can remove one layer each time. It’ll take a year.”

Visit her every month?

The Demon Lord’s heart soared. She didn’t find it troublesome at all. This was a legitimate excuse to spend time with Luo Nianshang.

She almost grinned, but her rationality, struggling to maintain control, forced her to scoff. “How troublesome,” she said.

Silence fell, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness.

The Demon Lord, forcing herself to stand, noticed that she was wearing a robe identical to Luo Nianshang’s.

Had Luo Nianshang worn this before?

She suppressed the thought, her expression disdainful.

She maintained her facade of indifference, opening the door, then turned back, smiling at Luo Nianshang. “See you next month, Venerable One,” she said.

She then left, her steps brisk, her head held high.

Once she was outside, she glanced back, then leaned against the wall, her body slumping.

This was humiliating!

She was so preoccupied with her own embarrassment, with cursing Luo Nianshang, that she had forgotten she could simply use her magic to alleviate the discomfort.

A nearby vendor was selling steamed buns. She no longer needed to eat at her level of cultivation. It was simply a matter of preference. She was about to leave when she saw the vendor toss a bun to a dog.

The dog caught it in its mouth and ran away.

A memory surfaced, and she blushed, her voice a soft curse. “Damn you, Luo Nianshang!”

Chapter 78: Tsk Tsk

“Squeak!”

The rat let out a final, agonizing cry, then breathed its last.

The Demon Lord, with a flick of her wrist, incinerated the rat’s corpse, reducing it to ashes. She sat in the courtyard, idly polishing her sword, her gaze restless, her thoughts drifting.

The usually bustling courtyard was unusually quiet. The cat, the dog, and the dragon were all gone. He Rong and Jwan Jwan were being dragged to their lessons by Fu Yuan.

Even An Ran and Zhu Chi, who had been frequent visitors, were absent. Everyone who had interfered with her time with Luo Nianshang had vanished. Unfortunately, Luo Nianshang herself had been busy lately, her whereabouts unknown.

The sound of a door creaking open interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see the face she had been longing for, and she rushed over, her heart pounding.

“Where are you going, Master?” she asked.

Luo Nianshang, unable to lie, replied, “To the Demon Realm.”

The Demon Lord, of course, wanted to go with her. She had convinced herself that interspecies relationships were the key to happiness, and she was worried that Luo Nianshang would be swept off her feet by some charming demon.

If that happened, she would explode.

“I’m coming too!” she exclaimed.

Luo Nianshang patted her head, her cold eyes softening slightly, then she said, “Stay here.”

The Demon Lord’s face fell. She was about to launch into a full-blown tantrum, but Luo Nianshang was firm. She used a spell, confining the Demon Lord to her room, setting up a barrier.

The Demon Lord pounded on the door, but Luo Nianshang ignored her, her voice calm and even as she said, “Focus on your cultivation. I’ll be back soon.”

Then, she mounted her sword, soaring into the sky.

The Demon Lord was furious. She was convinced that Luo Nianshang was hiding something.

But this was actually a good thing. Everyone would assume she was being punished, confined to her room. And the barrier was strong, difficult to break. No one would disturb her.

Of course, it was no obstacle for her. She would simply use this opportunity to escape.

She smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She snapped her fingers, and pink smoke enveloped her. When it dissipated, she was no longer Hong Ying. She was Qiu Yingxi, the Demon Lord.

She stared at her reflection in the bronze mirror, admiring herself for a moment, then, remembering her mission, she vanished, transforming into a wisp of smoke.

Luo Nianshang, on her way to the Demon Realm, paused at the Land of Fallen Gods.

The vast expanse of colorful flowers, blooming eternally, was a breathtaking sight.

She had shared an intimate moment with the Demon Lord here, although it had been an illusion, a vivid and inescapable dream.

She hadn’t heard from the Demon Lord in a while. After the rebellion had ended, the Demon Lord had delegated all her responsibilities to her left envoy, vanishing from public view.

Luo Nianshang lingered for a while, lost in her thoughts, then continued her journey.

Not long after her departure, the Demon Lord arrived, her presence concealed. She spotted Luo Nianshang, then deliberately maintained a safe distance. She transformed, even masking her demonic aura, replacing it with a faint, almost undetectable aura.

She knew the flowers in this field were harmless, so she allowed herself to fall, her voice filled with feigned panic. “Help!”

Luo Nianshang, her attention caught, turned to see a small demon trapped in the sea of flowers.

It had white rabbit ears and crimson eyes, its gaze wide with fear. It spotted Luo Nianshang, its voice a desperate plea. “Immortal, please save me!”

Knowing the dangers of this field, Luo Nianshang didn’t descend. She summoned a white silk ribbon, wrapping it around the rabbit demon’s waist, then pulled it to safety.

This wasn’t what the Demon Lord had envisioned. She had imagined Luo Nianshang pulling her up, then she would seize the opportunity to hug Luo Nianshang, or at least share a ride on her sword.

Why was she being carried like a helpless chick?

Luo Nianshang, holding the Demon Lord by the back of her collar, her arm outstretched, maintaining a safe distance, didn’t release her until they were far from the flowers.

Although the scene hadn’t gone according to plan, the Demon Lord wasn’t discouraged. As a master of deception, she instantly conjured tears, her expression pitiful.

She turned to Luo Nianshang, her voice trembling. “Thank you, kind soul,” she said.

The wind blew, chilling her to the bone.

There was no “kind soul.” Luo Nianshang had already vanished, a small dot in the distance.

The Demon Lord stomped her foot, her frustration growing. She wanted to curse, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She settled for ripping a nearby tree from the ground and tossing it aside.

Once her anger had subsided, she resumed her pursuit.

Luo Nianshang, oblivious to the stalker following her, was struggling. Her body was reacting strangely, and her usual cleansing mantras had no effect.

There was a spirit spring in the Demon Realm. She had experienced similar symptoms in her youth, and her masters had taken her there to bathe.

After a day of soaking in the spring, her symptoms would vanish.

She had assumed she would never experience those symptoms again, but as she aged, her heart had become less tranquil. She found herself dwelling on things, her thoughts often straying towards dangerous paths.

And such thoughts could lead to demonic influence.

She had no desire to become a demon, so she had decided to search for that spirit spring, though she hadn’t expected to find it. It had been millennia. But she had found it.

It was hidden within a dense forest, the towering trees blocking out the sunlight, creating a perpetual twilight. But it wasn’t completely dark. The spring water emitted a faint, ethereal glow.

She sat on a rock beside the spring, her hand dipping into the water. It was cool to the touch, and the moment she touched it, her anxieties seemed to lessen.

Although the location was secluded, it was still outdoors. She set up barriers and a concealment spell.

She carefully inspected her work, satisfied.

She doubted anyone else could breach her defenses, except for perhaps Bai Jingxue and the Demon Lord.

Bai Jingxue possessed exceptional talent, and the Demon Lord was a master of such techniques.

But neither of them would come here.

She relaxed, removing the few hairpins adorning her hair, placing them on the rock beside her.

Then, she began to undress. She usually dressed modestly, each button carefully fastened.

She removed her outer robe, then the rest of her clothes, her movements graceful. Once she was naked, she stepped into the spring, closing her eyes, her mind calming.

But soaking in a spirit spring took time, and unlike meditation, it didn’t require her full attention. She opened her eyes.

She glanced around, then, confident in her defenses, she retrieved a book from her spatial ring and began to read.

The Demon Lord, staring at the layers of barriers surrounding the spring, chuckled.

She was still disguised as a rabbit demon, but it wasn’t a convenient form. She decided to revert to her true appearance.

These barriers were complex, but she could break through them. However, she had to be careful. She didn’t want to startle Luo Nianshang. A single sword strike could be fatal.

She carefully dismantled the barriers, her curiosity growing with each layer she removed. What was Luo Nianshang doing?

If she was cultivating, this wasn’t a safe location. She must be hiding something.

The barriers weakened, and she created a small opening, just large enough for her to pass through. The final layer shattered, and she entered the clearing.

Then, she saw it.

Luo Nianshang was bathing!

She had come all this way just for a bath?

She couldn’t think straight. She could only see Luo Nianshang’s back and shoulders, but the way the water droplets glistened on her skin, illuminated by the ethereal glow of the spring water… it was a breathtaking sight.

Luo Nianshang, sensing someone’s presence, quickly hid her book, turning, her voice sharp. “Who’s there?”

She froze, her eyes widening as she recognized the Demon Lord.

She had just been thinking that only the Demon Lord and Bai Jingxue could breach her defenses. She hadn’t expected the Demon Lord to actually appear.

Seeing the Demon Lord staring at her, her gaze intense, she instinctively covered her chest with her hands, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. She was about to attack, but the moment she circulated her spiritual energy, something went wrong.

The Demon Lord, sensing the imminent threat, summoned her poison pearl.

But instead of attacking, she simply stared at Luo Nianshang.

Something was wrong. Luo Nianshang seemed to be incapacitated. Otherwise, she would have attacked.

This realization sparked a mischievous thought, but she quickly dismissed it.

Taking advantage of Luo Nianshang’s vulnerability was tempting, but she was more concerned about Luo Nianshang’s well-being.

She clutched the poison pearl. Everyone knew it was a deadly weapon, but few knew it could also heal.

She approached Luo Nianshang, her steps slow and deliberate.

Luo Nianshang, her anger simmering, her voice strained, warned, “Stop!”

The Demon Lord, finding her frustrated yet helpless demeanor adorable, couldn’t resist teasing her. She raised the poison pearl, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Never thought I’d see the day when the mighty Sword Saint would be at my mercy,” she purred.

Luo Nianshang, her face burning, wanted to scream, but seeing the poison pearl, she suddenly remembered something. She calmed herself.

The Demon Lord, seeing her regain her composure, assumed she was simply trying to appear strong. It made her even more adorable.

She reached the edge of the spring, tilting Luo Nianshang’s chin up, her gaze lingering on her face. “Do you remember our dream, Sword Saint?” she asked, her voice soft.

Luo Nianshang’s eyes darted away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

The Demon Lord raised the poison pearl, her smile seductive. “This is reality now,” she purred, “but it’s all the same to me. This might hurt a bit, so bear with me.”

The pearl spun, releasing a white mist, but Luo Nianshang didn’t react as she had expected.

Luo Nianshang’s gaze turned cold, and the Demon Lord suddenly felt a sense of unease.

“Still,” Luo Nianshang said, her voice a whisper.

The pearl froze, and the Demon Lord, her connection to her weapon severed, also froze.

Luo Nianshang hadn’t expected to immobilize the Demon Lord herself, but it was a welcome surprise.

The sword-shaped mark in the Demon Lord’s sea of consciousness pulsed, and she suddenly remembered something crucial.

Her smile vanished. She stared at Luo Nianshang, whose eyes were now filled with a murderous intent, and said, her voice laced with a nervous laughter, “What if I said I was just teasing you? That I was actually trying to heal you? Would you believe me?”

Luo Nianshang didn’t answer. She clutched her head, her eyes widening as red, spiderweb-like patterns spread across her face.

A voice echoed in her mind, its tone insistent, its words laced with a venomous hatred. “She keeps defying you! Teach her a lesson she’ll never forget!”

The Demon Lord, noticing Luo Nianshang’s distress, her fear forgotten, asked, “What’s wrong?”

Luo Nianshang, under the influence of that voice, her movements swift and decisive, pulled the Demon Lord into the spring.

The Demon Lord, caught off guard, spluttered, then Luo Nianshang pinned her against the edge of the spring, her lips crashing against the Demon Lord’s.

The Demon Lord’s mind went blank. She couldn’t think.

Luo Nianshang bit her lip.

She struggled, but Luo Nianshang simply whispered, “Still.”

“Still your head!” the Demon Lord thought. “Are you a dog?!”

Chapter 77: Meddling

Bai Jingxue wouldn’t perform fire-breathing tricks on the street. She wasn’t that desperate. But the little girl’s pale face and weak demeanor suggested she wouldn’t survive much longer if they didn’t intervene.

Since she had the ability to help, Bai Jingxue paid the hefty price to buy the girl’s freedom.

She crouched down, gently wiping the dirt from the girl’s face, her voice soft. “What’s your name?”

The girl, who had never seen someone so beautiful, shyly lowered her head, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes. “Er Ya,” she mumbled.

Such a simple name. Bai Jingxue, knowing they would eventually leave this place, realized that taking a child with them would be inconvenient. It would be better to find her a good home.

She circulated her spiritual energy through the girl’s body, purging the lingering illness, nourishing her weakened organs.

As she did so, she discovered that the girl possessed exceptional cultivation potential. She had a top-grade water spiritual root.

She had initially intended to find a kind family to take care of the girl, but now, abandoning such a talent seemed like a waste. After some deliberation, she decided to keep her for now.

They found the best inn in the capital, intending to get separate rooms, but the inn was full. It seemed the capital was bustling with visitors.

This was a common problem with expensive inns. The cheaper ones would undoubtedly be full as well. Bai Jingxue booked the two remaining rooms.

She turned, only to find Lü Qingyan staring at her, her eyes gleaming with excitement, her tail twitching.

There were too many people here. Bai Jingxue didn’t want to subject the crowd to a display of Lü Qingyan’s wagging tail.

She grabbed Lü Qingyan’s hand, pulling her along, then tossed the other key to Zhu Er. “Our rooms aren’t on the same floor,” she said. “Go find yours.”

She then dragged Lü Qingyan upstairs.

Zhu Er, watching them, their movements hurried, their expressions eager, was confused. “It’s just a room,” she muttered. “Why are they in such a hurry? It’s not even nighttime yet.”

She shook her head, then led Er Ya to their room.

Bai Jingxue unlocked the door, pulling Lü Qingyan inside, then closed it, securing the latch.

She turned to see Lü Qingyan sitting on the bed, the white cloth covering her head removed. She had wrapped it tightly, her white hair completely concealed, making her resemble a cotton swab.

She had wasted no time in removing that uncomfortable restraint.

She rubbed her ears, her voice filled with relief. “Finally, freedom!”

Bai Jingxue had been about to remind her to be careful with her tail, but seeing the dog’s pitiful expression, she decided against it.

She removed her own head covering, settling onto the bed beside Lü Qingyan. She reached out, gently stroking Lü Qingyan’s ear. “Does it still hurt?” she asked.

Lü Qingyan shook her head, then leaned against Bai Jingxue’s leg, her voice a playful whine. “It doesn’t hurt at all after Jingxue touched it.”

Lü Qingyan always exaggerated, but Bai Jingxue, her attempt to push her away unsuccessful, watched as Lü Qingyan began to play with her hair.

Her hair, after her transformation, was long, reaching past her waist.

This seemed a bit too intimate, so Bai Jingxue grabbed Lü Qingyan’s hand. “Don’t touch,” she said.

Lü Qingyan, instead of withdrawing her hand, intertwined her fingers with Bai Jingxue’s.

Bai Jingxue’s hands were beautiful, her fingers slender and delicate, her nails rounded and smooth. The calluses from years of holding a pen were gone. They were like works of art.

Lü Qingyan blushed, averting her gaze, her heart pounding, then, to hide her embarrassment, she grabbed a strand of Bai Jingxue’s hair, twirling it around her finger.

Bai Jingxue, seeing this, tried to pull her hair away, but Lü Qingyan suddenly leaned forward, her teeth grazing Bai Jingxue’s finger.

The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through Bai Jingxue’s body. She withdrew her hand, her voice trembling slightly. “Why did you bite me?”

Lü Qingyan didn’t know why. Perhaps Bai Jingxue’s hand had been too beautiful. She had lost control.

Seeing Lü Qingyan’s flushed cheeks, Bai Jingxue’s eyes widened. She touched Lü Qingyan’s forehead, her hand recoiling from the heat.

This wasn’t good. Had Lü Qingyan eaten something she shouldn’t have?

Or perhaps, in this life, her body was different, and she was experiencing her first heat cycle?

Either way, this was a disaster. But Bai Jingxue was a cat demon. She had never experienced a heat cycle.

She decided to try the same method she had used before.

Lü Qingyan, confused by Bai Jingxue’s sudden spanking, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, buried her face in the pillow, pretending to be an ostrich.

The sounds from within the room might have been inaudible to others, but Fang Xin and Fang Yue Lian, perched on the roof, had heard everything.

Bai Jingxue had set up a soundproof barrier, but their cultivation levels were far higher than the cat and dog’s. They could hear every detail.

Fang Xin, her usually stoic face contorted in shock, her eyes wide, struggled to process what she had just heard. She turned to see Fang Yue Lian, her expression mirroring Fang Xin’s disbelief.

They mentally replayed the sounds.

Touching, stroking, biting… it was hard not to imagine certain activities.

Fang Yue Lian, her composure returning, forced a smile. “They’re quite playful,” she said.

She glanced at Fang Xin, noticing the bewildered expression on her usually serious face, and her smile faded. “Are we eavesdropping?” she asked, her voice quiet.

Fang Xin wasn’t a stickler for rules. She had burned down a mansion, though she hadn’t anticipated the consequences.

But that was a distant memory. She had abandoned the mortal realm, embarking on the path of cultivation. Her past anxieties had faded.

She snorted, ignoring Fang Yue Lian’s question.

They weren’t intentionally eavesdropping. The inn was full. They had simply been looking for a place to spend the night.

This inn was located in the heart of the capital, offering a good vantage point for observing the city.

If that man-eating demon appeared, they would be ready.

Fang Xin was focused on their mission, but Fang Yue Lian was more laid-back, constantly trying to engage Fang Xin in conversation.

They were currently at the early and middle stages of Nascent Soul, respectively. According to the Ejian Sect’s customs, they should have taken on disciples, nurturing the sect’s future.

But Fang Xin found it troublesome, and Fang Yue Lian had repeatedly refused, offering various excuses. They were the only elders without disciples.

Fang Yue Lian, her thoughts drifting to this topic, sighed. “What do you think of Ruo Lin?” she asked.

Among their generation of disciples, Fang Yue Lian had been the most talented, followed by Fang Xin. And among the current generation, Han Ruo Lin was the most promising.

As such, she had been allowed to choose her own master, but she was ambitious. She had wanted to become Fang Yue Lian’s last disciple.

When Fang Yue Lian had refused, she had set her sights on Fang Xin, but she had also been rejected.

Fang Xin, hearing Han Ruo Lin’s name, her eyes flashing with disgust, remembered the girl’s expression. She had been filled with resentment and a sense of betrayal when Fang Xin had rejected her.

Her character was flawed. Even with her talent, she wouldn’t achieve much. And if she succumbed to demonic influence, she would be a disaster.

Fang Xin, never one to hide her disdain, scoffed. “She’s nothing special.”

She glanced at Fang Yue Lian. “Have you changed your mind?” she asked. “Don’t do anything I’ll disapprove of.”

Fang Yue Lian quickly reassured her. “Of course not,” she said. “I was just bored. The sect leader keeps pestering me about it.”

But the topic of disciples had piqued her interest. She wasn’t opposed to taking on a disciple, but she hadn’t found a suitable candidate yet.

“Suitable,” however, was a difficult standard to meet. She refused to settle.

The sect leader had been trying to persuade her to accept Han Ruo Lin, but she had sensed the girl’s flawed character from their first meeting. And Han Ruo Lin’s disrespect for Fang Xin had only solidified her decision.

She began to imagine her future disciple: someone cheerful, energetic, and affectionate, someone who would shower her with love and adoration.

She clasped her hands together, her eyes closed, her wish a silent prayer. Then, she sensed a demonic aura, her body tensing.

Fang Xin had already stood up, her gaze meeting Fang Yue Lian’s. They exchanged a knowing glance, then flew towards the southeast.

They weren’t the only ones who had sensed the demonic aura. Bai Jingxue, opening the door, her brow furrowed, her expression serious, sensed it too. Zhu Er, who was staying on the floor below, also emerged from her room.

Lü Qingyan, her head covered with a white cloth, followed Bai Jingxue, her cheeks flushed, her body resembling a lit match.

There were too many people here. Bai Jingxue couldn’t simply fly away. She turned to Zhu Er, her voice firm. “Stay here.”

Zhu Er, influenced by the incense smoke she had absorbed during her time in the temple, was kind-hearted. She wanted to help, but she knew her cultivation was too weak. Staying behind was the best course of action.

She nodded, her voice laced with concern. “Be careful.”

Bai Jingxue, after a brief nod, grabbed Lü Qingyan’s hand, pulling her back into their room. She locked the door, then said, “Qingyan, teleport.”

This wasn’t the time for shyness. Lü Qingyan, without hesitation, placed her hand on Bai Jingxue’s shoulder, and they vanished.

They landed in a deserted alley, the stench of blood filling their senses.

The sky was dark, the wind whipping fallen leaves through the air. A strange sound, a mix of tearing flesh and guttural swallowing, sent chills down their spines.

But there was nothing there, only a withered tree.

Bai Jingxue closed her eyes, then opened them, the world shifting, her vision enhanced. She could now see things that were invisible to ordinary eyes.

A creature, its body humanoid, its skin covered in gray fur, a long, hairless tail trailing behind it, was hunched over something, its jaws working.

Their arrival had clearly interrupted its meal. It turned, its eyes widening as it saw Bai Jingxue.

Its face, twisted and grotesque, was a clear indication of a failed transformation. Bai Jingxue instantly recognized it as a rat demon.

Lü Qingyan, her gaze fixed on the figure lying behind the rat demon, her stomach churning, her face paling, saw a human, his eyes vacant, his life extinguished.

“You monster!” she shouted, her voice filled with rage and disgust.

The rat demon, seeing that their cultivation levels were lower than his, relaxed, his voice mocking. “A dog meddling in a rat’s business,” he scoffed.

Chapter 76: Street Performance

On the way to the capital, Lü Qingyan realized her teleportation ability was working again. Eager to experience the bustling city, she immediately teleported to a hidden spot near the city gate.

It was a good thing she had chosen a secluded location. Suddenly appearing out of thin air would have terrified the mortals.

Transforming into a human had its advantages. She could move freely, and this secret realm was different from the previous one.

In the previous secret realm, they had been stripped of their powers, rendering them helpless. But this time, they had retained their cultivation and abilities.

Zhu Er, having experienced the wonders of teleportation, was both amazed and terrified. She had just robbed two powerful demons.

Her heart pounded in her chest, but then she remembered that these two demons seemed to be rather easygoing. If it had been any other demon, she would have been dismembered.

As she contemplated returning the spirit stones, the sound of hooves reached her ears.

“Make way for the Imperial Advisor!” a voice shouted. “All commoners, step aside!”

The people on the street quickly moved to the sides, some even kneeling, their heads bowed in reverence.

A luxurious carriage emerged from the cloud of dust, its curtains drawn. As it passed them, a hand reached out, pulling back the curtain.

A handsome man, his face pale, his features delicate, stared at them, his gaze intense, as if he had sensed their presence.

Then, he released the curtain, and the carriage continued its journey, entering the city.

Bai Jingxue closed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze fixed on the carriage. A faint aura of death clung to it, but carriages didn’t possess such an aura. It seemed the Imperial Advisor’s life was nearing its end.

She had encountered countless extraordinary individuals. A mere mortal advisor held no interest for her. But it seemed they needed identification to enter the city.

Zhu Er had also realized this. She usually transformed into her spider form to sneak into cities, then transformed back into a human once she was inside.

But that wouldn’t work for Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan.

They could, however, teleport.

They emerged from a deserted alley, Bai Jingxue surprised by the bustling activity of the capital.

Lü Qingyan, however, was enthralled. She stared at everything with wide eyes, her excitement bubbling over.

The streets were crowded, and Bai Jingxue, afraid of losing Lü Qingyan, followed closely behind, but she needn’t have worried. Lü Qingyan would always stop and wait for her.

Mortals used currency, not spirit stones. They could only look, not buy. Lü Qingyan’s face fell as she realized this.

Bai Jingxue, seeing her disappointment, spotted a pawnshop. She couldn’t remove the hairpin from her hair, but she had several of Luo Nianshang’s spare hairpins in her spatial ring.

She pretended to reach into her sleeve, retrieving a jade magnolia hairpin from her spatial ring.

She pawned the hairpin, receiving a hefty sum of silver, which she handed to Lü Qingyan.

Zhu Er, staring at them, her jaw slack, was stunned by their sudden wealth. She felt a surge of admiration for the Ejian Sect.

It must be an extraordinary sect, and it seemed they didn’t discriminate against demons.

She suddenly wanted to join.

As she calculated how many spirit stones she would need to reach the Ejian Sect, a jade pendant was suddenly pressed into her hand. She looked up, her gaze fixed on the jade, its color similar to her spider form.

She stared at Lü Qingyan, who had given her the pendant, her voice hesitant. “Is this for me?”

The jade pendant, purchased from a street vendor, was clearly of low quality, its value insignificant. Lü Qingyan had simply thought it resembled Zhu Er’s spider form.

She nodded. “Yeah, keep it,” she said. “It wasn’t expensive.”

Zhu Er, clutching the pendant, felt like she had encountered a benevolent deity.

But before she could express her gratitude, Lü Qingyan’s voice rang out. “Qingyan! Look! Acrobats!”

Zhu Er, following Lü Qingyan’s gaze, saw her dragging a reluctant Bai Jingxue away.

She quickly followed, not wanting to be left behind.

Bai Jingxue disliked acrobatic performances, but Lü Qingyan loved them, so she endured.

At least they weren’t fire-breathing acrobats.

A burly man lay on a bench, a thick stone slab resting on his chest. A thinner man stood beside him, banging a gong and shouting.

“Come one, come all! Witness the incredible feat of chest-crushing stone! Show your support, honored guests!”

A crowd quickly gathered, and Zhu Er, after much effort, managed to squeeze through.

She didn’t understand what was so interesting about this. They could teleport. Why were they watching such a mundane performance?

Bai Jingxue had the same thought. She stared at Lü Qingyan, her expression a mixture of amusement and confusion, but Lü Qingyan was clearly enjoying herself, so she simply let it go.

Urged by the crowd, the man with the gong picked up a hammer, smashing it against the stone. The stone shattered, and the crowd roared its approval.

The man then approached them, seeking payment.

Bai Jingxue, seeing Lü Qingyan’s tail twitching beneath her robe, discreetly moved to block it from view, her voice a gentle warning. “Your tail, Qingyan. Control it.”

Lü Qingyan, startled, quickly stilled her tail, her cheeks flushing as she scratched her head sheepishly.

She often forgot about this new appendage.

The man reached Lü Qingyan, his hand outstretched. Lü Qingyan, in her past life, had been a spendthrift. Her habits hadn’t changed. While others tossed copper coins, she retrieved a silver ingot, placing it in the man’s hand.

The performer, surprised by her generosity, showered her with blessings.

But humans were never satisfied. Having witnessed the chest-crushing stone, they craved more.

“Is that all you can do?” someone shouted. “Show us something more exciting!”

“Yeah, that’s nothing! I could do that too!”

“You earned so much money! Give us another show!”

The performer, not one to disappoint, grinned. “Don’t worry, honored guests,” he said. “My brother and I have traveled the world for many years. We have many skills. But this space is too small. We can’t perform our other feats here.”

The crowd booed.

He then pulled a young girl from the corner, his voice filled with pride. “But my daughter is skilled in the art of jar-balancing,” he said. “She’ll entertain you.”

Bai Jingxue, seeing the girl’s pale face, her thin frame, her eyes filled with fear, her demeanor suggesting illness, frowned.

She was supposedly his daughter, but her delicate features bore no resemblance to the performer.

The man retrieved a large porcelain jar. It was thick and heavy, judging by the bulging muscles in his arms.

The girl, staring at the jar, her face even paler, lay down, her legs raised, her feet pointing towards the sky. The man placed the jar on her soles.

Bai Jingxue’s eyes narrowed. She noticed that the girl’s face had turned even paler the moment the jar had touched her feet.

Lü Qingyan, unable to bear it, shouted, “Stop it! Why are you making such a young child do something so dangerous?”

The performer, recognizing the generous woman, hesitated, his expression troubled.

The crowd, however, was unfazed. They assumed the beautiful young woman was simply a sheltered noblewoman.

“Let the girl perform!” someone shouted.

“Yeah, she’ll have to earn a living eventually!”

The performer, his voice apologetic, said, “I apologize, miss, but she’s not as delicate as you. Country children are tough. She’ll be fine.”

Lü Qingyan was furious. She wanted to snatch back the silver she had given them.

But Zhu Er stopped her, her voice a low whisper. “Don’t be impulsive,” she said. “Attracting too much attention is dangerous. The mortal realm is also governed by cultivation sects. If they discover we’re demons, it’ll be troublesome.”

Lü Qingyan, however, wasn’t listening. She was ready to intervene. She rolled up her sleeves, preparing to fight, but Bai Jingxue grabbed her arm, stopping her.

Lü Qingyan stared at Bai Jingxue, her expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. She didn’t understand.

Bai Jingxue, her gaze fixed on a tall building across the street, noticed an open window facing them. Someone was watching.

She turned to Lü Qingyan. “There’s a cultivator watching us,” she said.

The cultivator’s aura was stronger than theirs, and they couldn’t see her face. She was wearing a veiled hat. It was best to be cautious.

Lü Qingyan calmed down. The girl had already begun her performance, but the task was clearly beyond her capabilities. After only two attempts, the jar slipped, about to fall onto her head.

Lü Qingyan, seeing this, couldn’t help herself. She dashed forward, kicking the jar away.

It shattered upon impact, its fragments scattering across the ground.

Bai Jingxue, watching this, rubbed her temples, her heart sinking.

The crowd, after a moment of stunned silence, erupted in cheers.

Lü Qingyan, usually shameless, suddenly felt a surge of embarrassment, which quickly transformed into pride.

She glared at the two performers.

The girl, who had narrowly escaped injury, thanked Lü Qingyan, her voice trembling, then glanced at her father, her eyes filled with fear.

“That woman is strong!”

“She looks so delicate, but she kicked that jar at least three meters high!”

“This is much more entertaining than the chest-crushing stone!”

Lü Qingyan, basking in their praise, her ego inflated, couldn’t help but boast. “That’s nothing!” she exclaimed. “I can split a stone with my bare hands! And my friend can breathe fire!”

Bai Jingxue, hidden among the crowd, hearing those words, her breath hitched.

“I knew it,” she thought. “This was a bad idea.”

The woman in the tall building closed the window, settling down at her desk. She removed her veiled hat. “What do you think, Yue Lian?” she asked.

Fang Yue Lian smiled at Fang Xin. “They don’t seem like the ones we’re looking for,” she said. “They’re all female. The sect’s information mentioned a male demon.”

Fang Xin nodded in agreement. “And a man-eating demon wouldn’t be this reckless,” she said. “He would be hiding.”

The food and wine on the table remained untouched. Fang Yue Lian disliked this tense atmosphere. She poured herself a cup of wine, then filled Fang Xin’s cup.

She raised her cup, smiling. “Let’s discuss this later,” she said. “We still have to meet the Imperial Advisor.”

Fang Xin, however, slammed her fist against the table, her voice filled with frustration. “If our sect wasn’t so poor, I wouldn’t have taken this job.”

Chapter 75: The Pearl

After running for what felt like an eternity, Bai Jingxue saw a glimmer of light in the distance. She gathered her remaining strength, her speed increasing, as she charged towards it, breaking through the oppressive black mist.

The growls of the wolf demons faded behind them, but Bai Jingxue didn’t slow down. She glanced back to see them cowering at the edge of the mist, their bodies trembling.

They couldn’t leave the mist.

Her heart, which had been pounding in her chest, finally slowed to a normal rhythm. She let out a sigh of relief, exchanging a glance with Lü Qingyan, then gently set her down.

Memories of their past life surfaced. She had always been the one carried by Lü Qingyan. Now, their roles were reversed. It felt strange, but also strangely satisfying.

Lü Qingyan, her feet touching the ground, was about to hug Bai Jingxue, but Bai Jingxue gently pushed her away. She then stuck her tongue out at the wolf demons.

“Hahaha! Come and get me!”

Bai Jingxue, watching her childish antics, shook her head, then surveyed their surroundings, realizing they were standing before a dilapidated temple.

Half of the roof had collapsed, and they could see the back of a statue through a large hole in the wall. It seemed to be a female figure.

Lü Qingyan, still taunting the wolf demons, oblivious to Bai Jingxue’s departure, continued her insults.

Bai Jingxue, glancing at her, then entered the temple.

Countless cobwebs clung to the crumbling doorway. She waved a hand, her magic dispelling them.

Sunlight streamed through the holes in the roof, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The statue was shrouded in shadows.

It was a goddess, her hair adorned with flowers, her gaze downcast, her hands cradling a bouquet.

Bai Jingxue stared at the statue, a sense of familiarity washing over her. She had seen an identical statue in Yi Tian’s room, concealing a hidden compartment.

“Jingxue!”

Lü Qingyan’s frantic voice echoed through the temple. She had finally noticed Bai Jingxue’s absence.

Bai Jingxue, snapping out of her thoughts, glanced through a hole in the wall, seeing Lü Qingyan’s panicked figure, her gaze searching. “I’m here,” she called out.

Lü Qingyan, hearing her voice, turned, her relief evident as she spotted Bai Jingxue. She scrambled through the hole, then rushed over to Bai Jingxue, her voice filled with a nervous laughter. “I thought you were gone!”

Her fear was genuine. Bai Jingxue was surprised. “Why would I be gone?” she asked, her voice soft.

Lü Qingyan realized she had overreacted. Bai Jingxue wasn’t a child. She wouldn’t wander off.

But she had been truly afraid, afraid that if she looked away for even a moment, Bai Jingxue would vanish.

She wouldn’t reveal her fear. She simply smiled. “Yeah, you’re always more reliable than me, Jingxue.”

She glanced at the statue, her brow furrowing. “Isn’t that…?”

Bai Jingxue approached the statue, her gaze fixed on its eyes. A small spider suddenly appeared on its shoulder.

It jumped, its movements surprisingly agile.

A moment later, they heard the spider’s angry voice. “Why did you destroy my web?!”

Bai Jingxue frowned. She glanced at the clean doorway, then at the bouncing spider. She understood.

She had been about to apologize, to claim it had been an accident, but she realized it hadn’t been an accident at all.

Lü Qingyan, however, was amazed. She tugged Bai Jingxue’s sleeve. “It’s talking! The spider is talking!”

The spider, its body as delicate as a jade pendant, retorted, “What’s so strange about a spider talking? You’re a dog, and you can talk too.”

Lü Qingyan, as if realizing this for the first time, blinked. “Oh, right.”

The spider jumped down from the statue’s shoulder, transforming into a human as it landed.

She had almond-shaped eyes, arched eyebrows, and a delicate nose. Her lips were thin and pale, her expression serious. A touch of green eyeshadow accentuated her eyes.

She was beautiful, her anger enhancing her allure, but the moment she spoke, the illusion shattered.

Her voice was incredibly sweet, her anger transforming into a childish pout. The dissonance between her appearance and her voice was jarring, like a burly man trying to act cute.

“How are you going to compensate me?” she demanded.

Lü Qingyan, staring at the indignant spider spirit, couldn’t believe her ears. Her voice rose an octave. “Compensate you?” she exclaimed. “For what? This is extortion!”

The spider spirit raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘extortion’?” she asked.

Lü Qingyan was speechless. She scratched her head, trying to explain the meaning of the word.

But a bag of spirit stones solved the problem.

Bai Jingxue, retrieving the bag from her spatial ring, her voice calm, asked, “Is this enough?”

The spider spirit, after counting the spirit stones, coughed, trying to appear magnanimous. “I’ll forgive you this time,” she said. “Where are you from?”

“The Ejian Sect,” Bai Jingxue replied.

The name meant nothing to the spider spirit, but the world was vast. There were bound to be things she didn’t know. This cat demon was clearly wealthy. The Ejian Sect must be a powerful sect.

This amount of spirit stones was nothing to Bai Jingxue. After her transformation, Luo Nianshang had given her several spatial rings filled with treasures. Spirit stones were the least valuable items.

She realized she could sense the spider spirit’s cultivation level. She was only at the Foundation Establishment stage. She must have used some kind of method to transform prematurely.

She was rather bold, extorting money from a more powerful demon.

And she looked familiar.

Lü Qingyan had also noticed this. She couldn’t hide her thoughts. “You look like someone I know,” she said.

The spider spirit, intrigued, couldn’t resist preening. “Then she must be incredibly beautiful,” she said.

Bai Jingxue, though surprised by her blatant self-praise, found her rather endearing.

The bag of spirit stones seemed to have won the spider spirit over. She was simple-minded, answering all their questions honestly.

She had sought shelter in this temple during a storm. It had once been a thriving temple, its incense smoke granting her sentience.

She had then accidentally consumed a transformation elixir, gaining her human form. But by then, the temple had fallen into disrepair. Without the incense smoke, her cultivation had stagnated.

Bai Jingxue thought back to Luo Nianshang’s explanation of the transformation elixir. It had been lost for centuries. If this was another illusion, then it must be set in the past.

This secret realm was nothing like Ying had described. Bai Jingxue, her suspicions growing, no longer trusted Ying’s words.

She was quiet, but Lü Qingyan and the spider spirit, whose name was Zhu Er, seemed to get along. They chatted while Bai Jingxue listened, gathering information.

Lü Qingyan, praising the Ejian Sect, had painted a wonderful picture of the sect, shattering Zhu Er’s preconceived notions. Learning that the woman who resembled Zhu Er was the sect’s ancestor, she expressed a desire to meet her.

“She’s amazing,” Zhu Er said, her voice filled with admiration.

Bai Jingxue, seeing that their conversation had devolved into Luo Nianshang worship, doubted she would glean any more useful information.

She quietly left the temple, wanting to check on the wolf demons, but when she reached the edge of the black mist, she found nothing.

They were gone. The mist had vanished.

Had they stumbled into another dream?

If that were the case, then they simply had to wait for the dream to end. Perhaps they would find a solution then.

She returned to the temple, finding Zhu Er and Lü Qingyan chatting, their laughter echoing through the air.

She felt a strange unease.

She approached them. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

Her voice was unusually quiet, and Lü Qingyan, sensing her mood, asked, “Are you upset, Jingxue?”

Bai Jingxue, her true feelings exposed, turned away, her voice strained. “No.”

Zhu Er, sensing the tension, offered a suggestion. “The capital is nearby,” she said. “Whenever I’m feeling down, I go there to cheer myself up. It’s so much fun! Do you want to go?”

Bai Jingxue was about to decline, but then she saw Lü Qingyan’s ears perk up, her tail wagging excitedly. Her intentions were clear.

She swallowed her refusal, her voice flat. “Sure.”

Lü Qingyan jumped up, throwing her arms around Bai Jingxue’s neck. “Yay! Let’s go!”

Bai Jingxue was about to push her away, but seeing the joy on Lü Qingyan’s face, she gave up.

But weren’t they here to train? Why were they suddenly planning a sightseeing trip?

She felt a surge of guilt. She had been fantasizing about slaying demons, showcasing her newfound power.

She was pathetic.

Zhu Er, glancing at their tails and ears, reminded them, “But you need to hide your ears and tails.”

Bai Jingxue wanted to, but she didn’t know how. That dragon, for some reason, had refused to teach them how to transform back.

That perverted furry enthusiast!

Zhu Er knew how, but she couldn’t explain it. She rambled on, her explanation so convoluted that even Bai Jingxue, with her sharp mind, was left confused.

“Huh?”

Bai Jingxue sighed. She retrieved two white cloths from her spatial ring, wrapping them around their heads, then changed their clothes, tucking their tails into their robes.

Lü Qingyan’s tail was fluffier, creating a noticeable bulge beneath her robe, emphasizing her backside.

Bai Jingxue rubbed her temples, speechless.

Once they were ready, Zhu Er led them towards the capital.

They passed several fields, the farmers busy with their work.

The farmers paused, their gazes following them.

One of the farmer’s wives arrived, carrying a basket of food.

The farmer, his gaze lingering on the departing figures, set down his hoe and settled on the edge of the field, eating his lunch. Once he was finished, he glanced towards the path, but the three women were gone.

“Did someone die?” he asked his wife. “I just saw two girls wearing mourning clothes walking past.”

His wife, gathering the dishes, shook her head. “No,” she said. “Maybe they’re from the neighboring village.”

The farmer, reassured, turned his attention to his wife, remembering the recent events. “Tell Er Niu to stay home!” he shouted.

Chapter 74: Different

This was the first time Bai Jingxue had seen Ying’s true form. In the original story, after ripping out her own core, Ying had been bound to the male lead’s wrist, her potential wasted.

Bai Jingxue stared at the enormous pink dragon soaring above them. Her horns were as white as jade, her scales a delicate shade of pink, like cherry blossoms, shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight.

But Bai Jingxue wasn’t particularly interested in those details. Her gaze was fixed on the dragon’s five claws.

Ying descended, hovering close to the ground. “Hop on,” she said.

Bai Jingxue, pulling Lü Qingyan along, climbed onto Ying’s head. When she had been a cat, she had often perched on Lü Qingyan’s head. The dog’s fur had been soft and warm, a comfortable resting spot.

But a dragon was different. Perhaps it was the scales, but sitting on Ying’s head was hard and cold. Bai Jingxue felt like she was back in high school, sitting on a freezing cold bench during winter.

Ying, oblivious to Bai Jingxue’s discomfort, warned them, “Hold onto my horns. Don’t get thrown off.”

They obeyed, but the moment their hands touched her horns, she took off.

She flew so fast that Bai Jingxue felt the wind whipping against her face, making it impossible to speak.

Thankfully, she had learned a few spells. She quickly created a barrier around herself and Lü Qingyan. The moment the barrier closed, they were safe.

Lü Qingyan wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice laced with concern. “Are you okay, Jingxue?”

“I’m fine.”

The scenery was a blur. All Bai Jingxue knew was that they eventually landed on a beach.

Ying set them down, her body enveloped in white light. A moment later, she transformed back into her human form, landing gracefully beside them.

A small crab, scuttling along the beach, reached Lü Qingyan’s feet and was promptly captured.

Lü Qingyan lifted the crab, pinching its claw, then yelped as it pinched her finger. She threw it back into the ocean, her voice filled with annoyance. “Damn it! That hurt!”

Ying, watching this exchange, chuckled. “That little guy said the same thing,” she said.

Bai Jingxue, her brow furrowed, realized something. “You can hear its thoughts?” she asked. “Can you hear the thoughts of all animals?”

Ying nodded. “Yes,” she said. “But I need to use a spell to hear their thoughts. If they speak directly, I can understand them.”

Bai Jingxue’s eyes widened in alarm. She quickly backed away from Ying, her expression wary. “Can you hear my thoughts?”

Ying, seeing Bai Jingxue’s reaction, quickly reassured her. “Of course not! I can’t use that spell on transformed demons!”

Bai Jingxue stared at her for a long time, her gaze skeptical, then finally, she decided to believe her.

But they were here for the secret realm. All she could see was the vast expanse of the ocean. There was no sign of a secret realm.

She closed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze fixed on the ocean. The space beneath the surface seemed distorted. Was the secret realm there?

Her question was soon answered. Ying extended her hand, and a silver spear materialized, its tip adorned with red tassels, its shaft curved like a crescent moon.

She twirled the spear, then, her expression turning serious, she leaped into the air, her weapon slicing through the surface of the ocean.

The water erupted, then parted, revealing a path.

Bai Jingxue’s eyes widened. Ying hadn’t simply parted the water. She had torn a rift in space.

Ying tossed the spear aside, its form dissolving into shimmering particles.

Darkness surged from the rift, accompanied by the wails of ghosts, the laughter of women, and the roars of beasts.

Lü Qingyan shuddered, goosebumps erupting on her skin. “Are we really going in there?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

Her tail tucked itself between her legs.

Bai Jingxue, seeing Lü Qingyan’s fear, felt a surge of sympathy.

But her sympathy was short-lived. She suddenly felt herself lifted into the air, her feet leaving the ground.

Lü Qingyan experienced the same sensation. They turned to see Ying grinning at them, her teeth gleaming white. She was holding them by their collars, her body hovering in the air.

A bad feeling settled in Bai Jingxue’s stomach. “Hey!” Ying shouted, her voice cheerful. “Off you go!”

She tossed them into the rift.

Before they could even react, they were tumbling through darkness.

Ying clapped her hands together, her voice filled with amusement. “Alright, I’ll wait here for them to come out.”

“Aaaahhhh!!!”

Lü Qingyan’s scream made Bai Jingxue cover her ears. They were plummeting towards the ground.

Bai Jingxue tried to use her techniques, relieved to discover that they worked. She pulled Lü Qingyan towards her, slowing their descent, then, after what felt like an eternity, they landed.

She cautiously scanned their surroundings, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Countless pairs of glowing red eyes stared back at them, their gazes filled with hunger.

Her heart pounding, she took a deep breath, then unleashed a burst of fire, its golden-red flames illuminating the darkness, incinerating their attackers.

Screams of pain echoed through the air, the stench of burning flesh filling their senses.

She suddenly felt something wrap around her waist. She looked down to see Lü Qingyan clinging to her, her body trembling.

Bai Jingxue was confused. Lü Qingyan wasn’t usually this timid. She patted Lü Qingyan’s head, her voice soothing. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m here.”

But Lü Qingyan only clung tighter, whimpering, “I’m scared.”

Her voice was so pitiful that Bai Jingxue’s heart melted. She was about to pat Lü Qingyan’s head again when she noticed the dog’s tail wagging furiously.

Bai Jingxue stared at her, speechless.

Which dog wagged its tail like a fan when it was scared? This dog was clearly delighted!

Realizing she had been tricked, Bai Jingxue squeezed Lü Qingyan’s ear. “Still trying to fool me?” she asked, her voice dry.

Lü Qingyan’s tail, which had been held high, instantly drooped between her legs. This time, she was truly afraid.

She released Bai Jingxue’s waist, trying to free her ear from Bai Jingxue’s grasp.

She had simply wanted to cuddle. How had Jingxue seen through her act?

She grabbed Bai Jingxue’s wrists, her eyes pleading. “I’m sorry, Jingxue,” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll do it again. And I’ll be even more shameless.”

That was the Lü Qingyan Bai Jingxue knew.

She wasn’t really angry. She released Lü Qingyan’s ear.

She rubbed her fingers together, enjoying the soft, fluffy texture.

But this wasn’t the time for ear-petting. She retrieved a stick from the ground, then ignited it with her fire breath, creating a makeshift torch.

Lü Qingyan, rubbing her ear, couldn’t help but comment, “You look like a street performer, Jingxue.”

Those words brought back unpleasant memories of being surrounded by a pack of wolves, forced to perform for their amusement.

She glared at Lü Qingyan, then, ignoring her, walked towards the source of the burning smell, her torch illuminating the darkness.

She suddenly realized that this wasn’t ordinary darkness. It was a black mist.

Her heart sank, and she shouted, “Hold your breath!”

Lü Qingyan quickly covered her nose, her voice muffled. “What’s wrong?”

Bai Jingxue didn’t answer. The black mist, fearing the flames, retreated slightly, revealing the source of the burning smell.

Several skeletons lay scattered on the ground, their shapes suggesting they had once been beasts. Bai Jingxue wasn’t an expert on animal anatomy, but the fact that their bones had survived her flames was unusual.

Perhaps the black mist was the key.

As she pondered this, the bones suddenly began to move.

Ying, bored, yawned, then, to entertain herself, she gathered all the crabs on the beach, stacking them into a tower.

Facing a dragon, the crabs didn’t dare to move, resigned to their fate.

But even this amusement grew tiresome. She released the crabs.

Just as she was wondering how to spend her time, she caught a whiff of demonic energy.

A moment later, she heard a woman’s voice, filled with panic. “Help!”

Her eyes lit up, and she stood up, brushing the sand from her clothes, eager to investigate.

She flew towards the source of the sound, finding a small fox trapped in a demon-binding formation. It hadn’t transformed yet, its tiny body struggling against the restraints.

There was no one around. The trap had been set, but the hunter hadn’t arrived yet.

But this little fox was weak. Why had it left the safety of the forest and ventured to the coast?

Ying pondered this, then gave up, simply breaking the formation.

The fox, surprised by its sudden rescue, sensed Ying’s dragon aura and bowed its head respectfully. “Thank you for saving me, Your Excellency,” it said.

Ying crouched down, smiling at the fox. “You’re welcome,” she said.

The sound of a whale’s cry echoed through the air, and Zhu Chi, sitting on a high point along the coast, watched as Bai An Ran, now in her true form, swam in the ocean.

Her sight had been restored by the Sword Saint, though she still required daily acupuncture treatments.

Bai An Ran’s voice, carried by the wind, reached her ears. “Look at this!”

Zhu Chi had been watching her, then she saw a water spout erupt from the surface of the ocean, a rainbow forming in its mist.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Zhu Chi smiled. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

Joy and sorrow were experienced differently by each individual. Even in close proximity, their fates diverged.

A dragon was rescuing a damsel in distress, a couple was enjoying a romantic moment, and a cat and a dog were running for their lives.

Lü Qingyan’s teleportation ability was disabled. Bai Jingxue realized that the dog wasn’t as fast as her.

Seeing that Lü Qingyan was about to be caught by the mutated demons pursuing them, she scooped up the dog, her speed increasing.

“Damn it!” she thought. “These things are at least at the middle stage of Nascent Soul! And there are so many of them! We can’t win!”

She suspected Ying had sent them to assassinate her.

Had Ying met the male lead and fallen in love?

She had no time for conspiracy theories, but her frustration boiled over. “Just wait!” she shouted.

Chapter 73: The Reason

With the Sword Saint’s residence becoming increasingly lively, the Demon Lord’s jealousy intensified.

No matter how much she gritted her teeth, the number of people surrounding Luo Nianshang didn’t decrease. But she couldn’t express her true feelings.

How could she say, “My feelings for you are real”?

Luo Nianshang would surely reject her. How could she make that cold and distant woman open her heart?

The Demon Lord was troubled. Her frustration led her to devour all the ripe spirit fruits in the courtyard, leaving only unripe ones behind.

She tossed the last fruit core out of the courtyard, sighing. “This is boring.”

Bai Jingxue, overhearing her, looked up, amused by the Demon Lord’s listless demeanor.

She still couldn’t understand the Demon Lord’s true intentions. She hadn’t tried to poison Luo Nianshang yet.

He Rong was napping at the table. Since Luo Nianshang had brought her here, the little girl’s life had been filled with homework.

But she had no interest in studying. No matter how energetic she was, the moment she touched a book, her eyelids would droop, and she would fall asleep.

When it was time to submit her assignments, she would simply ask Jwan Jwan to copy them for her.

Lü Qingyan, returning from her trip, settled beside Bai Jingxue. She had been frequenting the Spring Snow Sect, hoping to learn from Zhu Chi, but Zhu Chi was absent today, so she had returned early.

Seeing He Rong, who seemed to have been asleep for a long time, Lü Qingyan couldn’t resist poking her cheek. He Rong, disturbed, swatted Lü Qingyan’s hand away.

Lü Qingyan, finding this amusing, continued poking He Rong until the girl, annoyed, buried her face in her arms.

“Hahaha, she’s just like me,” Lü Qingyan chuckled.

Bai Jingxue glanced at her, shaking her head. “You’re proud of that?”

Lü Qingyan grinned. “I had no motivation back then. I had no expectations for the future.”

She had been simple-minded. She knew her family would take care of her, even if she didn’t study. Good grades hadn’t mattered to her.

She remembered her first year of high school. She had slept through every exam, not even bothering to write her name, effortlessly achieving the lowest score in the entire school.

She had become infamous, but her homeroom teacher had nearly had a heart attack.

Her parents, however, hadn’t wanted their daughter to be a disgrace. They had hired countless tutors, but she hadn’t taken any of them seriously.

Then, during her final year of high school, Bai Jingxue had entered her life, and she had found her first true goal.

She wanted to get into the same university as Bai Jingxue. She wanted to be Bai Jingxue’s girlfriend.

Young love was pure and innocent. As long as two people loved each other, it seemed like nothing could stand in their way.

Lü Qingyan had believed in that illusion for a long time, but after graduating, she had realized that reality was far more complicated.

She hadn’t expected her parents to confront Bai Jingxue’s family. When it had happened, she had rushed to find Bai Jingxue.

She had searched everywhere, finally finding her on the bridge they often visited.

The summer breeze had been warm, the river below rushing, and Bai Jingxue, turning to face her, her eyes red from crying… it was a sight Lü Qingyan would never forget.

Bai Jingxue, embarrassed by her tears, had quickly turned away, wiping her eyes. “You’re here,” she had said.

There had been no accusations, no anger, just her usual greeting, as if nothing had happened.

Lü Qingyan had never seen her cry before. Her strength was terrifying.

Unlike Lü Qingyan, who was still immature and naive, Bai Jingxue saw the world clearly, her rationality often overshadowing her emotions.

Being with Lü Qingyan had been the only time she had allowed her heart to rule her head.

Lü Qingyan, speechless, had stood beside Bai Jingxue, their gazes fixed on the scenery, the words she longed to say caught in her throat.

Finally, she had apologized, her head bowed. “I’m sorry.”

The wind had lifted Bai Jingxue’s long hair, revealing her delicate earlobes and the round earrings adorning them, a birthday gift from Lü Qingyan.

She had seen those earrings at the mall and had thought they would suit Bai Jingxue perfectly, but Bai Jingxue hadn’t had her ears pierced. She had hesitated, then bought them anyway.

Bai Jingxue had stared at her, her expression a mixture of amusement and gratitude. “Did you buy these because you want me to wear them?” she had asked.

She had nodded, her cheeks flushing.

Bai Jingxue had smiled, accepting the gift. Then, she had gotten her ears pierced and had worn the earrings.

The wind, tugging at Lü Qingyan’s hair, brought her back to the present. Their hair tangled together.

“Qingyan.”

“Yeah?”

Bai Jingxue’s voice, soft and hesitant, was almost lost in the wind. “Are you afraid of being with me?”

Lü Qingyan had shaken her head. “No.”

Bai Jingxue, her gaze fixed on the setting sun, the sky painted in hues of orange and red, her voice even softer, had said, “But I am.”

Lü Qingyan remembered the fear that had gripped her heart. She had never seen Bai Jingxue so vulnerable, so fragile.

Now, a similar fear tightened her chest. She reached out, grasping Bai Jingxue’s hand, her grip firm, her voice cheerful, trying to mask her anxiety. “Your hands are warm, Jingxue.”

Bai Jingxue tried to pull her hand away, but Lü Qingyan’s grip was strong. She looked up at Lü Qingyan, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Lü Qingyan couldn’t reveal her true feelings. Those memories were too painful for Bai Jingxue. It was better to forget.

She took Bai Jingxue’s other hand, her smile mischievous. “I’m just taking advantage of you,” she said.

Bai Jingxue, her gaze narrowed with suspicion, then withdrew her hands. “You little pervert,” she said, rolling her eyes.

The Demon Lord, watching them, her teeth grinding, was convinced that they were in love.

“Damn it,” she thought. “Even cats and dogs can find love, but why can’t I be with Luo Nianshang, even though we’re the same species?!”

But then she remembered that Zhu Chi and that little whale demon weren’t the same species either. Perhaps interspecies relationships were the key to happiness?

She tapped her chin, her desperate heart clinging to any hope, no matter how absurd.

A brilliant idea struck her.

“Hey, everyone!” she shouted, her voice cheerful. “I found a great place that might help with your cultivation! Want to go?”

Ying’s voice reached them from afar.

Lü Qingyan, still wary of the pink dragon, quickly hid her tail, her head bowed in silence.

Bai Jingxue, amused by Lü Qingyan’s sudden obedience, replied, “Sure. Where is it?”

Ying appeared at the doorway, clad in silver armor, her usually loose hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked rather heroic.

But still flamboyant.

Bai Jingxue raised an eyebrow. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Ying, ignoring Lü Qingyan, who was pretending to be a statue, settled down beside her, nearly giving the dog a heart attack.

“I found an unclaimed secret realm,” Ying said, her voice filled with excitement. “I checked it out. The monsters inside respawn infinitely. You two lack combat experience. It’s the perfect place to practice.”

Bai Jingxue’s eyes lit up. “Where is it?”

Ying, pleased by her interest, said, “It’s a bit far, but you can ride me there.”

Bai Jingxue hesitated. Dragons were noble and proud creatures. Riding one seemed disrespectful.

And why was this pink dragon so casual? She lacked the typical dragon temperament.

But riding a dragon… it sounded rather impressive. She was torn.

Ying, unaware of her concerns, urged her, “So, are you coming? If you are, then get ready. We’re leaving soon.”

Bai Jingxue, her desire for power overriding her hesitation, nodded. But she couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you being so nice to us?”

Ying had found her through a dream after a single encounter, then had plucked out her own scales without hesitation.

She had been spending her days exploring the area, clearly for their benefit.

Bai Jingxue didn’t believe in unconditional kindness. She needed a reason.

Ying blinked, confused. “Huh?”

She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Because you’re both adorable and fluffy,” she said.

What kind of reason was that?!

Ying, ignoring Bai Jingxue’s shock, suddenly slapped her forehead. “Oh, right! Do you still have those dragon scales I gave you?” she asked. “They’re great for cultivation. If you’ve used them all, I can pluck out some more.”

She transformed her hand into a dragon claw, preparing to pull out more scales.

Bai Jingxue quickly stopped her. “No, thank you!”

Ying, assuming she was simply being polite, chuckled. “Even if you don’t need them, Mao Mao probably does,” she said. “Let me pluck out a few. It doesn’t hurt.”

Lü Qingyan, her tail bristling, jumped to her feet, her posture rigid. “I don’t want them!”

Ying, rejected by both of them, looked a bit hurt. She transformed her claw back into a hand, her voice laced with disappointment. “You’re rejecting me?”

Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan sighed with relief.

They were determined to embark on this training journey. They needed to pack their belongings and inform Luo Nianshang.

But Luo Nianshang was nowhere to be found. Bai Jingxue decided to leave a note.

She finished writing the note, placing it in Luo Nianshang’s room, then turned, only to find the Sword Saint standing behind her. Her tail bristled, her heart pounding.

She relaxed, recognizing Luo Nianshang. “Venerable One, I…”

“I know,” Luo Nianshang interrupted. “Go.”

Bai Jingxue, though relieved to have received permission, noticed the strange expression on Luo Nianshang’s face.

She took a few steps, then turned back, her brow furrowed with confusion, but Luo Nianshang had already entered her room, closing the door, shutting out both Bai Jingxue and the Demon Lord, who had been hoping to curry favor.

Bai Jingxue, staring at the Demon Lord, who was now sulking in a corner, felt a surge of confusion.

Ying’s voice reached her ears. “Are you ready?”

Bai Jingxue turned, her voice bright. “Coming!”

Chapter 72: Ouch!

The Demon Lord, observing the white-haired woman frolicking in the courtyard, chasing butterflies, felt a mix of emotions.

This was the dog she had picked up, but her transformed form was so beautiful that it made the Demon Lord feel strange. She was glad this dog and that cat were internally digesting, otherwise, she might have lost her mind.

Lü Qingyan was simply bored. She would intentionally miss the butterflies, then, tired of that game, she climbed a tree, plucking leaves.

Perhaps she had been born into the wrong species. She should have been a monkey, not a dog.

She plucked a spirit fruit from the tree, then jumped down, offering it to the Demon Lord. “Here you go, De- Mmmmph!”

The Demon Lord, her patience snapping, covered Lü Qingyan’s mouth, her voice a low growl. “My name is Hong Ying!”

Lü Qingyan, sensing the genuine threat in the Demon Lord’s tone, nodded quickly.

The Demon Lord released her, taking the spirit fruit and wiping it with her sleeve before taking a bite.

Lü Qingyan, confused, remembering her agreement with Bai Jingxue, wagged her tail. “What are you doing all this for?” she asked. “Are you trying to…”

She mimed slicing her neck, her voice a sinister whisper. “Kill her?”

The Demon Lord paused in her chewing. Well, the dog’s assumption wasn’t entirely wrong. She finished the fruit, tossing aside the core.

She then cleansed her hands with a spell, her voice casual. “Do I look like that kind of person?”

Lü Qingyan nodded seriously. “Yes.”

The Demon Lord chuckled, then her smile vanished as she realized she had to look up to meet Lü Qingyan’s gaze.

Why was this dog so tall?

Her childhood had been filled with poverty and hunger. She had missed her growth spurt.

She was only slightly shorter than Lü Qingyan, but that slight difference was enough to make her feel insignificant.

She was annoyed, but seeing Lü Qingyan’s innocent eyes, her anger dissipated.

She remained silent, but Lü Qingyan, ever the chatterbox, couldn’t help but offer her unsolicited advice. “She’s a good person,” she said. “You two don’t have any real grudges. Why don’t you just be friends? Maybe you’ll get along.”

The Demon Lord wanted to laugh. First, because Lü Qingyan had completely misunderstood her intentions. Second, because the dog was so naive.

She might not be particularly attached to the position of Demon Lord, but she had still been the Demon Lord.

Luo Nianshang would always regard her with suspicion, her every action scrutinized. But as a disciple, she could avoid such scrutiny.

And the dog’s blatant favoritism towards Luo Nianshang was rather hurtful.

She gritted her teeth, her frustration growing.

“Luo Nianshang, Luo Nianshang,” she thought. “Why does everyone, human or demon, fall for you?”

She felt a headache forming. It seemed her future would be filled with rivals. And there was another issue.

How was she going to get Luo Nianshang to the Demon Realm and transfer Ouyang Ba’s destiny to her?

“Ugh!”

Lü Qingyan, startled by the Demon Lord’s sudden grimace, took a step back, but she persisted. “What do you think?” she asked.

The Demon Lord, snapping out of her thoughts, forced a smile. “I don’t think much of it,” she said. “I don’t want to be her friend.”

Her smile widened, her voice taking on a suggestive tone. “I want to bully her.”

Her words, spoken with a hint of menace, seemed incongruous with Hong Ying’s ordinary face. Lü Qingyan’s lips twitched. “You can’t even beat her,” she muttered. “How are you going to bully her?”

The Demon Lord, her pride wounded, grabbed Lü Qingyan’s shoulders, shaking her. “Whose dog are you?!” she demanded.

Lü Qingyan felt like her brain was turning into scrambled eggs. When the shaking finally stopped, she collapsed onto the ground, her head spinning. She looked up at the Demon Lord, her voice firm. “I’m Jingxue’s dog.”

Bai Jingxue, returning to the mansion, overheard those words. She paused, then walked over to Lü Qingyan, helping her up.

Seeing the Demon Lord’s furious expression and Lü Qingyan’s pitiful demeanor, she instinctively shielded Lü Qingyan with her body.

“How did Qingyan offend you?” she asked.

She had almost said “Demon Lord,” but the Demon Lord’s murderous glare had silenced her.

The Demon Lord rolled her eyes. “Jingxue,” “Qingyan”… they were so close.

When would she be able to call Luo Nianshang “Nianshang”?

She ignored them. Luo Nianshang was nowhere to be found. She had been planning to pester Luo Nianshang into teaching her swordsmanship, hoping to accidentally fall into her arms.

But Luo Nianshang was gone. She couldn’t even take advantage of her absence.

Bai Jingxue, watching the Demon Lord sulk, couldn’t understand her behavior, but she didn’t care.

The Demon Lord wouldn’t die from anger.

She ignored her, retrieving a guqin from her spatial ring. It was black, its design simple, devoid of any embellishments.

She handed it to Lü Qingyan. “Here,” she said. “This is for you.”

Lü Qingyan’s ears perked up, her tail wagging excitedly. “For me?” she asked, her voice filled with delight.

“Of course.”

Bai Jingxue smiled. She had gone to the Spring Snow Sect to see Zhu Chi.

Her knowledge of guqins stemmed from Lü Qingyan, but she wasn’t familiar with the instruments in this world. Zhu Chi, however, was an expert.

When she had explained her request, Zhu Chi had readily agreed, offering her best guqin. But that wasn’t all. She had even offered her personal cultivation technique.

Bai Jingxue had quickly stopped her, seeing that Zhu Chi was still rummaging through her spatial ring.

If she hadn’t intervened, Zhu Chi would have emptied her entire treasury.

Lü Qingyan tested the guqin, her eyes widening. She seemed pleased.

She stored the guqin away, then hugged Bai Jingxue, her body clinging to Bai Jingxue’s.

“You’re the best, Jingxue!”

The Demon Lord, watching this display of affection, couldn’t help but interject, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Ooh, you’re so good to me, Jingxue~”

Bai Jingxue had almost forgotten about the Demon Lord’s presence. She peeled Lü Qingyan off her, her cheeks flushing.

It had been the same in their past life. Lü Qingyan had always been clingy, regardless of the situation. It seemed some things never changed.

The air was thick with awkwardness. Bai Jingxue was about to retreat to her room when she spotted She Yuwei lurking at the entrance.

Seeing Bai Jingxue, She Yuwei waved excitedly. “Cat Master!”

Then she noticed the beautiful white-haired woman standing beside Bai Jingxue.

If it weren’t for the Sword Saint’s aloof and austere demeanor, she would have suspected that Luo Nianshang had abandoned her secluded chamber to build a harem.

Remembering the Sword Saint, she glanced around nervously, then approached Bai Jingxue, her voice hushed. “Is the Sword Saint here?”

Bai Jingxue, seeing her cautious behavior, guessed that Ying’s pre-ordered story was ready.

Unfortunately, Ying wasn’t here today.

“Neither the Sword Saint nor Ying are here,” Bai Jingxue said. “If it’s about that matter, you can give it to me. I’ll pass it on.”

She Yuwei, though hesitant, didn’t want to risk another encounter with the Sword Saint.

She retrieved a thick stack of books from her new spatial pouch, each book carefully wrapped in layers of silk, the outermost layer a vibrant gold.

Well, it was certainly appropriate for the theme.

Bai Jingxue accepted the books, impressed by She Yuwei’s efficiency.

She had written so many books in such a short time.

She noticed the dark circles under She Yuwei’s eyes and the swelling on her wrists.

What a dedicated author.

She felt a surge of gratitude. She handed the books to Lü Qingyan, then retrieved a jar of ointment from her spatial ring.

“Apply this to your wrists,” she said. “You’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

She Yuwei, overwhelmed, took the ointment and quickly left, not wanting to risk another encounter with the Sword Saint.

The Demon Lord, unfamiliar with She Yuwei, stared at the silk-wrapped bundles, her curiosity piqued.

She was about to reach for them when Luo Nianshang appeared in the sky.

Bai Jingxue quickly stored the books in her spatial ring. Her movements were so swift that Luo Nianshang didn’t notice.

The Demon Lord’s attention, however, was no longer on the books. She rushed over to Luo Nianshang. “Master, where did you go?”

Luo Nianshang didn’t answer. She muttered a few words, and a slender, crimson sword materialized before the Demon Lord.

Her voice was still cold, but there was a hint of affection in her tone. “I had this sword forged for you,” she said.

The Demon Lord, staring at the sword, its surface radiating a faint heat, was delighted.

She accepted the sword, but she sensed a resistance, a hostility emanating from it.

A dangerous glint flashed in her eyes, and the sword instantly submitted.

She tested it, swinging it a few times, realizing that it was perfectly suited for a fire spiritual root. Luo Nianshang had clearly put a lot of thought into this gift.

She was overjoyed, but the sword was sensitive to demonic energy. Simply holding it caused a burning sensation in her hand.

But she was the Demon Lord. She suppressed it with her own power.

Luo Nianshang, seeing her delight, relaxed. She hadn’t told her disciple about the sword, worried that she might not like it.

But it seemed she had chosen well.

However, the sword’s materials included a phoenix feather, making it incredibly powerful and unpredictable. “It’s a fierce sword,” she warned. “Don’t try to force it.”

The Demon Lord, after performing a few flourishes, sheathed the sword, her smile bright. “I understand, Master,” she said. “Thank you.”

Her frustration vanished. She noticed that Luo Nianshang’s right sleeve was singed. “Master, what happened?” she asked.

Luo Nianshang, realizing that her sleeve was damaged, quickly hid her hand behind her back. “It was an accident during the forging process,” she said. “It’s nothing serious.”

So Luo Nianshang had forged the sword herself.

The Demon Lord’s joy intensified. She hugged Luo Nianshang, her smile widening as she felt Luo Nianshang’s body stiffen. “You’re so good to me, Master,” she murmured.

Lü Qingyan, watching this exchange, couldn’t help but interject, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Ooh, Master is so good to me~”