Chapter 130: The Game Begins
Night had fallen, the only sound the chirping of cicadas.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan lay in bed, unable to sleep. The prayer ceremony was tomorrow. They were restless.
The evil god had been unusually quiet lately, her inactivity unsettling. Bai Jingxue couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.
But the ground hadn’t cracked, unlike a thousand years ago. This meant Bai Lizhao had been persuaded. Bai Jingxue had expected the evil god to try to install the First Princess on the throne.
But nothing had happened.
She glanced at the statue of the Flower Goddess hanging on the wall, its expression serene, then she sighed.
She looked up, and her eyes widened. The evil god was standing before them.
She was as casual as ever, her voice a cheerful greeting. “Hi.”
Lü Qingyan, her temper quicker than Bai Jingxue’s, jumped in front of Bai Jingxue, her voice a protective snarl. “What do you want, you psycho?!”
The evil god, unfazed by her hostility, shrugged, her expression one of feigned innocence. “Just here for a chat.”
“Qingyan, sit down,” Bai Jingxue said calmly.
Lü Qingyan glared at the evil god, shaking her fist, then reluctantly sat down, her gaze fixed on the evil god, wary.
Bai Jingxue, her instincts honed by years of social awkwardness, was about to offer the evil god some tea, then she remembered that the evil god was a spirit.
She withdrew her hand, her voice calm. “What do you want to talk about?”
The evil god chuckled, amused by her reaction, then a flicker of sadness crossed her face as she remembered her long slumber, her awakening into a world without a physical form.
But awakening also meant the return of her hatred, her duty. And she didn’t want to be free.
She smiled. “I have some questions for you, hypocrite.”
She paused, then asked, “Don’t you think humans are only kind when their own survival is threatened?”
Bai Jingxue didn’t agree.
The candlelight flickered, the room silent.
Then, Bai Jingxue shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “Humans are inherently selfish. Regardless of their circumstances, they will always prioritize their own needs.”
The evil god, surprised by her cynical assessment, laughed, then said, “You would make a better evil god than me.”
Lü Qingyan, bristling, interjected, “She would never be an evil god!”
The evil god’s laughter subsided, and she scoffed. “It’s not a choice,” she said.
Perhaps finding the room too dark, she frowned, and the statue on the wall began to glow, its light igniting the other lamps in the room.
Bai Jingxue’s eyes narrowed against the sudden brightness, but the evil god, seemingly pleased by the light, her mood lifting, smiled.
“I don’t want to be the evil god,” she said. “And I understand human nature. I have no expectations for them.”
Bai Jingxue’s voice was calm and steady, her words sincere.
The evil god was silent. She floated around the room, then returned to her original spot, standing in a pool of light, her expression soft and gentle, a stark contrast to her usual coldness.
She looked down at Bai Jingxue, her voice a soft whisper. “If you were me,” she asked, “what would you do?”
“The same as you.”
The evil god was surprised, then she chuckled, her voice laced with a mocking amusement. “Hypocrite,” she said. “Aren’t you supposed to be saving the world?”
Bai Jingxue didn’t answer immediately. She glanced at Lü Qingyan, who was still glaring at the evil god, her posture protective, and Bai Jingxue’s gaze softened.
She smiled. “Because I am Bai Jingxue,” she said, “I want to save this world. This world has given me so much happiness. I don’t want Luo Nianshang, the Demon Lord… these good people… to disappear. And more importantly…”
She paused, her unspoken words hanging in the air. Because this world has been incredibly kind to me and Lü Qingyan.
The evil god understood. “Your ambitions are rather… small,” she said, her voice a gentle mockery.
Bai Jingxue didn’t argue. “Do you have a name?” she asked, her gaze meeting the evil god’s.
It was a strangely normal conversation, like old friends catching up.
The evil god had no shadow, no name. But she had once had a name. She had simply forgotten it, lost in the endless cycle of hatred and despair.
Her memories were filled with pain, devoid of any warmth or kindness. She had hated this world, and she had destroyed it. But it hadn’t brought her peace. She had awakened to find life returning, the barren landscape once again teeming with life.
And she had seen herself, a child, her clothes ragged, subjected to endless cruelty.
But she couldn’t protect herself. Her anger had grown, her hatred intensifying as she watched herself relive that pain, that suffering.
She could only manifest her power, her divine abilities, through Er Ya’s anger and resentment, her actions mirroring Er Ya’s own experiences.
But this time, it was different. The arrival of those outsiders, those unpredictable variables, had disrupted her plans. They had used the Xuan Tian Sect to divide her, to scatter her power.
Her soul, carrying a fragment of her divine power, was trapped in an endless cycle of reincarnation, while the entity now calling itself the evil god was nothing more than discarded remnants, a byproduct of her fragmented self.
She chuckled, her voice filled with self-deprecating amusement. “You claim I’m not Er Ya,” she said, “but the truth is, each generation of the evil god is simply a continuation of the same soul, the same body, with fading memories. So if you want a name… you can call me Er Ya.”
She had said it to provoke Bai Jingxue, but Bai Jingxue simply stared at her, her expression unreadable.
Disappointed by her lack of reaction, the evil god pouted, then a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Let’s make a bet,” she said.
“No,” Bai Jingxue replied.
The evil god, her spell interrupted, her anger flaring, then she forced herself to calm down, her voice cold. She vanished.
Bai Jingxue, the oppressive presence gone, felt a surge of unease, then a thud echoed through the room as Lü Qingyan’s head hit the table.
Bai Jingxue’s heart leaped, and she reached out to Lü Qingyan, but a wave of drowsiness washed over her, her eyelids drooping.
She tried to resist, but the more she struggled, the stronger it became, until finally, she collapsed, her body slumping against Lü Qingyan’s.
But as she fell, her mind still clinging to consciousness, she saw the evil god, her smile smug, her voice a soft whisper. “Sleep,” she said. “When you wake up, everything will be gone.”
Bai Jingxue tried to speak, but darkness claimed her, her consciousness sinking, like a stone falling into the depths of a bottomless ocean.
The evil god, seeing them trapped in her dream, smiled, satisfied.
She couldn’t access the Emperor’s faith. Even if she installed a new ruler, their faith wouldn’t be as potent as Bai Lizhao’s.
This had all been a distraction. Her true targets had always been Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan. She had even manipulated Bai Jingxue, using their conversations to mislead her.
They carried her blessing, although she had no memory of bestowing it upon them. But all that mattered was that she could use it.
She didn’t understand it. Their blessings were unusually potent, strong enough to affect even a god.
But it was convenient. By sacrificing them, she could temporarily regain her full power, and once Luo Nianshang was eliminated, she could reclaim the scattered fragments of her divinity.
The people of Cang Xi’s fervent prayers had already restored a small portion of her power, enough to trap these two powerless mortals in her dream.
Now, she simply had to wait.
The first rays of dawn pierced through the window, illuminating the room, then the light vanished as vines, their growth rapid and unnatural, enveloped the building, plunging it back into darkness.
Luo Nianshang and Bai Lizhao stood outside Cang Xi’s borders.
The kingdom was now a sea of flowers, but these flowers weren’t blooming on vines emerging from the earth.
A giant tree, its branches reaching the sky, had sprouted in the center of Cang Xi, where the palace had once stood. Vines, laden with flowers, cascaded from its branches, covering the entire kingdom.
A single, enormous flower bloomed at the tree’s peak, its aura menacing.
Bai Lizhao’s face was ashen. She had had her doubts, but now, seeing the sea of flowers, she finally believed them. The Flower Goddess was an evil god.
She collapsed to the ground, her voice a despairing whisper. “It’s gone,” she murmured. “Everything is gone.”
Luo Nianshang, casting a protective spell around Bai Lizhao, her voice firm, said, “Your people are still alive. I will save them.”
She was about to enter Cang Xi when she noticed a movement in the bushes to her right.
A rabbit darted out, its white fur a stark contrast to the green foliage.
Luo Nianshang, her eyes narrowing, turned, her gaze fixed on the distant tree, its ominous presence a beacon in the ravaged landscape.
Perhaps because the evil god, now fully matured, required spiritual energy, Cang Xi was now teeming with it. This was convenient.
Bai Lizhao, her heart filled with despair, watched as the Demon Lord emerged from the bushes.
The Demon Lord had returned after fleeing the courtyard. She couldn’t explain it. She had simply been worried about Luo Nianshang.
She had returned at night, finding the two puppets still frozen in the courtyard.
And Luo Nianshang was drinking.
Bottle after bottle, but her powerful constitution prevented her from becoming intoxicated. Empty wine bottles were neatly arranged on the table.
She had placed one there after finishing each bottle, the stack growing taller, until it obscured Luo Nianshang’s face.
“Qiu Yingxi,” Luo Nianshang’s voice, cold and accusing, had echoed through the courtyard, “you deceived me.”
The Demon Lord had jumped, startled, convinced that she had been discovered. She had been about to flee when the sound of another cork popping had stopped her. Luo Nianshang had opened another bottle.
She hadn’t left. She had stayed, hidden in the shadows, watching over Luo Nianshang.
But the evil god had awakened, and Luo Nianshang had been busy, her days filled with battles. The Demon Lord had followed her, always at a distance, her gaze fixed on Luo Nianshang, until they had returned to Cang Xi.
Bai Lizhao, seeing the Demon Lord, had been startled.
The Ejian Sect disciples had told her so many terrible things about the Demon Lord that she had become wary.
But the Demon Lord, her gaze fixed on Luo Nianshang, ignoring Bai Lizhao, had sensed the danger Luo Nianshang was facing. She had flown towards the giant tree without hesitation.
As she flew, snow began to fall, its flakes large and heavy.
Wherever the snow landed, ice spread, freezing everything in its path.
The Demon Lord knew it was Luo Nianshang’s attack, and she was about to defend herself when she noticed that the snowflakes were avoiding her.
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