Chapter 10: Illusions
He had been running for what felt like an eternity, his mind reeling. Nothing was going according to plan.
He had been reborn. Surely, fate wouldn’t grant him a second chance only to torment him further.
Dizziness, brought on by blood loss, overwhelmed him, and he collapsed. A gentle breeze, like an unseen hand, cushioned his fall. A voice, unfamiliar and ethereal, drifted through the air.
“Strange,” it murmured, as if to itself. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
The voice unwrapped the bandages from his face, revealing the crisscrossing wounds beneath. As the fabric fell away, the wounds began to bleed again.
The voice seemed amused by this development. It waved a hand, healing the wounds on his face, but neglecting his severed left arm.
Whether this was intentional or not, the male lead remained unaware. When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying on a stone platform inscribed with intricate runes. Before he could examine it further, the ground shook, and the platform crumbled beneath him, sending him tumbling into the darkness below.
He landed hard, the impact jarring his spine. He knew instantly that his back was broken. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
The dimly lit chamber was suddenly illuminated by flickering candlelight, revealing a series of portraits lining the walls. They weren’t images of deities or revered figures. They seemed to depict the same person, over and over again.
Unable to stand, the male lead used his hands to prop himself up, his gaze drawn to the far end of the chamber.
There, on a platform of cold jade, sat a skeleton, its bones gleaming in the candlelight. Time had ravaged its clothing, reducing it to dust.
The male lead’s eyes were drawn to a string of jade beads adorning the skeleton’s wrist. Greed flickered in his gaze.
He had seen those beads before, in his past life, on Luo Nianshang’s wrist. Someone of her stature wouldn’t wear anything useless.
Desire outweighed the pain wracking his body. He dragged himself forward, his expression growing more desperate with each movement. Finally, he reached the skeleton.
He looked up, meeting the empty gaze of the skull.
A shiver of fear ran down his spine. The skull had been facing forward before. Now, it was tilted downwards, as if staring directly at him.
But it was just a corpse. He had taken plenty from the dead before.
Perhaps his movements had shifted the skull’s position.
His fear subsided, and he reached for the beads, but he couldn’t quite reach them. He strained, his fingers brushing against the jade, but he couldn’t get a proper grip.
His fingers found a gap between the beads, and he yanked, ignoring the potential damage to the skeleton.
He grinned triumphantly, slipping the beads onto his wrist.
A searing pain shot through his head.
“Hahaha, how amusing. You writhe like a pathetic worm.”
Pain, both physical and mental, overwhelmed him. He would have fainted, but he found himself trapped in a state of agonizing awareness.
He looked up to see the skeleton had shifted position again. Its bony fingers cradled its skull as it watched him writhe on the ground.
The male lead’s suffering seemed to amuse it. It rose from its platform, stretching its limbs with a series of bone-crunching pops. “I can’t believe fate chose you,” it said, its voice filled with disdain. “I waited for so long, only to be saddled with a worthless wretch!”
The word “worthless” stung, but the male lead was too preoccupied with his own agony to retaliate.
“Hmm, that’s not right,” the skeleton murmured. “Your aura of destiny is fading.”
It circled the male lead, its movements accompanied by a chorus of unsettling clicks and pops.
As it leaned in, its bony fingers tracing the male lead’s fading aura, the male lead grabbed its leg, his eyes filled with hatred.
The skeleton was unimpressed. It was about to remove the male lead’s head and put it back on backwards when the sound of barking and meowing echoed through the chamber.
After a rather lengthy freefall, Lü Qingyan landed squarely on Bai Jingxue’s back.
Bai Jingxue gasped for air, struggling to free herself from the weight crushing her. “Get off me!” she hissed.
Lü Qingyan, startled, scrambled to her feet, her voice filled with concern. “I’m so sorry! Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”
Bai Jingxue, her head spinning, opted for silence.
This entire descent had been rather illogical. The Demon Lord and Luo Nianshang were significantly heavier than them, yet they hadn’t fallen through.
As if on cue, a loud thud echoed through the chamber, followed by a yelp from the Demon Lord and Luo Nianshang’s calm, yet slightly strained, voice. “Would you mind getting off me?”
They looked up to see the Demon Lord sprawled in Luo Nianshang’s arms, looking strangely delicate.
The Demon Lord scrambled to her feet, brushing at her clothes as if she had been contaminated by something foul.
“You need to eat more,” she grumbled. “Your ribs are like knives.”
Luo Nianshang discreetly poked at her ribs, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
The Demon Lord, ignoring her, grabbed her dog and then noticed the male lead, sprawled on the ground in a pathetic heap, and the skeleton observing them with amusement.
She had seen plenty of skeletons in her lifetime, even the animated variety. This one didn’t faze her. The male lead, however, was far more intriguing.
She studied him for a moment, then raised her foot, aiming for his neck.
In a flash, he vanished.
Bai Jingxue frowned. The male lead might not be a physical threat anymore, but his ability to evade danger was truly remarkable. The original plot might not be set in stone, but his plot armor was definitely intact.
Suddenly, she was lifted into the air. Finding herself face-to-face with a grinning skull was rather disconcerting.
She braced herself for a lecture, but the skeleton simply set her down and returned to its platform, where it proceeded to stare at the remaining occupants of the chamber, its bony fingers scratching its skull.
“Am I still dreaming?” it muttered. “Why do a cat and a dog have such…”
It trailed off, but even without eyes, Bai Jingxue could sense its bewilderment.
With a sigh, the skeleton slumped back onto its platform. Its bones rattled, then crumbled into dust, scattering in the wind.
The events unfolded so quickly that everyone was left reeling.
“This isn’t good,” Bai Jingxue thought, rushing over to cover Lü Qingyan’s nose.
As expected, both Luo Nianshang and the Demon Lord collapsed.
This chamber clearly had some kind of hidden mechanism. It might not be fatal, but it could induce sleep.
Bai Jingxue recalled Luo Nianshang’s pre-journey divination, which had predicted a romantic entanglement. She wondered who the female lead’s dream lover would be.
She felt a tug on her tail and turned to see Lü Qingyan staring at her, her eyes pleading.
Knowing she had something to say, Bai Jingxue freed her tail from the dog’s grasp. “What is it?” she asked, her voice flat.
Lü Qingyan, relieved that Bai Jingxue was willing to speak, wagged her tail and settled beside her. But her joy was short-lived.
“This doesn’t make sense,” she sighed. “In the original story, the male lead obtained the inheritance without any trouble. He wasn’t this pathetic.”
Bai Jingxue glanced at the sleeping figures of Luo Nianshang and the Demon Lord. Even in their unconscious state, their brows were furrowed, their fists clenched. They were clearly on edge.
Having spent so much time with Lü Qingyan, Bai Jingxue could read her like an open book.
“Are you afraid of the unknown?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan shook her head. She met Bai Jingxue’s emerald gaze. She had always admired Bai Jingxue’s strength, her ability to remain calm even in the face of adversity.
Pushing aside her anxieties, Lü Qingyan embraced her usual optimism. Melancholy was a fleeting emotion.
She was preoccupied with a more fundamental question: who was she? Was she a dog with Lü Qingyan’s memories, or was she truly Lü Qingyan?
And was this world truly the world of the novel? If not, what did it mean for their future?
Bai Jingxue, unaccustomed to seeing her so subdued, missed the carefree, cheerful Lü Qingyan.
She looked away, her voice soft but firm. “Does it really matter?” she asked. “Just live the life you want to live.”
She glanced at the sleeping Luo Nianshang, her words carrying a hidden meaning. “Make sure those who are good and noble remain that way.”
“If you’re unsure about the future, then use your own eyes to see the truth. The answers will reveal themselves.”
Lü Qingyan seemed to take her words to heart. Her tail resumed its happy wagging, and her eyes sparkled with renewed enthusiasm. “I bet the Demon Lord will get the inheritance,” she declared.
Bai Jingxue agreed. The dual cultivation manual was definitely more suited to the Demon Lord. Luo Nianshang was far too detached from such desires.
But she was currently Luo Nianshang’s pet, and she felt obligated to support her. “I think it’ll be the female lead,” she countered.
Their disagreements were nothing new. In their past life, Bai Jingxue had been a homebody, content to spend her free time indoors. Lü Qingyan, on the other hand, had loved outdoor activities.
They had settled their differences with a simple game: rock, paper, scissors.
Unfortunately for Bai Jingxue, she had terrible luck. She always lost, forcing her, a reluctant participant, to endure morning jogs and grueling gym sessions. She had even developed muscles.
The memory brought a bittersweet smile to her face. The pain of those workouts had long faded.
Her mood lifted, she felt playful. She held up a paw, her claws extended. “Want to bet on it?”
Lü Qingyan, eager to play, extended a paw. “Let’s do it!”
Bai Jingxue’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “One, two, three…”
Lü Qingyan realized a moment too late that a dog’s paw could only form the “paper” hand gesture. But she assumed the cat would be limited as well.
To her surprise, Bai Jingxue’s paws, crossed at the wrists, formed a perfect “scissors.”
The black cat grinned. “I win.”
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