Chapter 110: A Quiet Observation
She Yuwei, watching the cat and dog perched on her desk, wanted to cry.
Life had been difficult lately. First, her biggest client, Ying, had returned to the Dragon Palace. Then, Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan, those two menaces, had started visiting her regularly.
The Ejian Sect elders had finally stopped paying attention to her, but now, thanks to those two, the sect leader was watching her again.
She couldn’t complain, so she simply said, her voice filled with a weary resignation, “I can’t write with you two staring at me.”
Bai Jingxue, in her cat form, licked her paw, then settled down on the desk, letting out a soft meow.
She Yuwei, staring at the cat’s large, round eyes, her annoyance fading, her heart softening, realized she had fallen for the cat’s trick. She tossed her brush aside, leaning back in her chair, her voice laced with a hint of defeat. “Whatever,” she said. “The Ejian Sect is cracking down on these stories anyway. Even if I wrote one, I would be the only one reading it.”
Lü Qingyan, using her paw, nudged She Yuwei’s manuscript, a single drop of ink staining the page.
She Yuwei, her heart aching at the sight of the ruined page, picked up the dog, then gently placed her back on the floor.
She gathered her manuscript, storing it away, locking her desk drawer. She finally relaxed.
Bai Jingxue, seeing her anxiety, decided to stop teasing her. She transformed back into her human form, settling down at the round table in the room.
Lü Qingyan, seeing this, her tail wagging, rushed over, leaping onto Bai Jingxue’s lap.
Bai Jingxue stroked her ear, and Lü Qingyan tilted her head, her eyes closing contentedly.
She Yuwei, watching them, her fingers itching, longed to write.
But she couldn’t. How could she write fanfiction about them while they were right here?
She settled at the table, her head resting on her arms, her voice muffled. “Cat Master, what do you want?”
Bai Jingxue, her fingers playing with Lü Qingyan’s ears, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, noticed that Lü Qingyan had placed her paws on Bai Jingxue’s hand, her eyes pleading.
She stopped, petting Lü Qingyan’s head gently, then turned to She Yuwei, her lips curving into a small smile. “I came to see if you have any new stories,” she said.
She Yuwei’s eyes lit up, and she quickly poured Bai Jingxue a cup of tea, her smile wide and fawning. “What kind of story would you like, Cat Master?” she asked. “I can write anything.”
Bai Jingxue hadn’t expected a custom order. She chuckled. She might have considered it before, but after that resurrection incident, she had realized that the more powerful the ability, the greater the price.
She didn’t care about the price herself, but she worried about the unseen consequences, the potential harm to She Yuwei.
She shook her head. “It’s alright,” she said. “Just write whatever you want.”
Simply predicting the future, without attempting to change it, shouldn’t be a problem.
She thought about it for a moment, then, remembering She Yuwei’s previous story about the whale demon, she asked, “Is the ending happy or sad?”
She Yuwei discreetly moved away from Bai Jingxue. She was still afraid of being smacked on the head.
Once she had established a safe distance, she frowned, her voice hesitant. “I can’t say for sure,” she said. “It’s… complicated.”
Bai Jingxue, watching Lü Qingyan, who was rolling around on her lap, her movements restless, picked her up, holding her close. Lü Qingyan finally settled down.
So it wasn’t a clear happy or sad ending. It was something in between. Perhaps an open ending.
Bai Jingxue, deciding she could live with that, retrieved a bag of spirit stones from her spatial ring.
She Yuwei’s eyes, gleaming brighter than the spirit stones, made Bai Jingxue chuckle. “You’re earning so many spirit stones,” she said. “Aren’t you wasting them by not using them for cultivation?”
She placed the bag on the table.
She Yuwei didn’t bother counting them. This bag contained more spirit stones than she could earn from twenty rank D missions. And this was just a deposit.
She didn’t agree with Bai Jingxue’s assessment. She stored the spirit stones away, then said, “I’m not ambitious. I was lucky to even get into the Ejian Sect. I just want a peaceful life.”
She glanced at Bai Jingxue, her voice laced with envy. “Unlike you, Cat Master. You’re incredibly lucky.”
To those who didn’t know the truth, Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan did seem incredibly lucky, having been taken in by the Sword Saint before even starting their cultivation journey.
The Sword Saint was a legend, a symbol of power in this world with only ten thousand years of recorded history.
While others struggled to acquire resources and techniques, Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan simply had to ask.
Bai Jingxue didn’t argue. Her life in this world had been easy, except for those times when she had been forced to fight opponents far stronger than her or when she had been dragged into strange illusions.
She Yuwei, seeing her silence, assuming she had offended her, quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said. “Everyone has their own fate.”
Her voice lowered, her tone somber. “In my past life,” she said, “my country was invaded. Life was cheap. Innocent people were killed, their heads taken as trophies. My parents were among them.”
Her voice was calm, but her words sent a chill down Bai Jingxue’s spine.
In the original story, She Yuwei had simply been a plot device. Her backstory had never been explored.
And she was ordinary. The male lead hadn’t been interested in her. He hadn’t bothered to ask.
The atmosphere grew heavy, and Bai Jingxue poured She Yuwei a cup of tea.
She Yuwei was surprised. Even among cultivators, there was a hierarchy. Bai Jingxue was an elder, a powerful Nascent Soul cultivator. It was unthinkable for her to serve tea to a low-level outer sect disciple.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan were different from the arrogant cultivators she had encountered.
They were far too kind.
She accepted the tea, its warmth spreading through her palm, then, regretting her depressing story, she said, “I apologize for burdening you with my troubles, Cat Master.”
Bai Jingxue shook her head. “No, I understand,” she said.
She Yuwei paused, assuming it was simply a polite gesture. Bai Jingxue had been born at the peak of this world. She couldn’t possibly understand the struggles of ordinary people.
But even if it was just politeness, it made She Yuwei feel respected.
She decided not to continue her story. She set aside the tea, her mood lifting, her smile returning. “This one might take a while,” she said. “It’ll be a long story.”
Bai Jingxue wasn’t in a hurry.
Lü Qingyan, nestled in her arms, had become unusually quiet. Bai Jingxue looked down to see that she had fallen asleep. She gently squeezed the dog’s paw pad, enjoying its soft, fluffy texture.
Lü Qingyan stirred in her sleep, and Bai Jingxue, afraid of waking her, stopped.
Sleeping upright wasn’t comfortable. Bai Jingxue shifted, adjusting her position, and Lü Qingyan, her sleep disturbed, let out a soft whimper.
Bai Jingxue chuckled. She had noticed Lü Qingyan’s unusual sleeping habits. She would always start out sleeping upright, then she would somehow end up horizontal, sometimes even falling off the bed.
But if Lü Qingyan moved too much before Bai Jingxue had fallen asleep, Bai Jingxue would wake up and cover her with a blanket.
She Yuwei, watching them, found the scene rather endearing.
“She must be having a good dream,” she said, her voice soft. “She’s still smiling.”
Bai Jingxue thought for a moment, then she had a theory.
If she was right, then Lü Qingyan was probably dreaming about food.
She didn’t want to disturb them any longer. She stood up, Lü Qingyan still in her arms. “We’ll be going now,” she said.
She Yuwei was about to see them off, but Bai Jingxue had already vanished.
She Yuwei, staring at the empty room, stretched, then picked up the tea Bai Jingxue had poured for her, taking a sip.
She immediately spat it out, coughing violently, then, once she had recovered, she muttered, “Elegance is clearly not my forte.”
Her thoughts drifted to the past, her mood darkening. She didn’t have to worry about spirit stones anymore, so she closed the door, preparing to take a nap.
But she couldn’t sleep. She sat up, her frustration growing.
She sighed, her gaze falling upon the sword hanging on the wall.
The Ejian Sect specialized in sword cultivation. Every disciple received an ordinary iron sword upon entering the sect. But She Yuwei had never unsheathed hers.
Her senior sister, who had brought her to the Ejian Sect, had been a kind and righteous woman, her heart filled with a desire to join the inner sect. She Yuwei, inspired by her, had also dreamed of becoming a powerful cultivator.
On the day She Yuwei had received her sword, her senior sister had taken her on a mission.
It had been a simple mission, just eliminating a Qi Gathering demon. It should have been easy for her senior sister.
But they had been unlucky. The demon, through a fortunate encounter, had broken through to the Foundation Establishment stage.
Her senior sister’s dreams had been shattered in an instant, her death so sudden that she hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye.
She Yuwei, covered in blood, her luck, as always, a strange mix of good and bad, had watched as the demon, its mind seemingly clouded, had suddenly killed itself.
She had gathered her senior sister’s remains, her tears flowing freely, then she had hung her own sword, still sheathed, on the wall, a silent memorial.
She stared at the sword, then her thoughts drifted to the recurring dream that had been plaguing her lately: a dream where she held a sword, its tip pressed against someone’s throat, a single movement away from drawing blood.
She couldn’t see the person’s face, but she knew that her own hands, in the dream, had been trembling with fear.
Her heart pounding, she stared at her own hands, their skin pale and delicate, then she clenched them into fists.
“I’m so weak,” she muttered. “Who am I even trying to kill?”
“It’s just a dream,” she said, her voice a whisper.
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