Chapter 16: Moving Mountains
“Are you saying someone is blocking my destiny?”
“Not exactly. It’s more accurate to say a cat and a dog are doing it.”
The male lead coughed violently. He had lost an arm, been tortured by a skeleton in the secret realm, and his spiritual meridians were now shattered, rendering him a cripple.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. He was now on the Ejian Sect’s most wanted list. As the most powerful sect in the righteous realm, their reach was vast. The entire realm was now hostile territory.
The demonic cultivator hovered beside him, his form reduced to a flickering black flame, no longer able to maintain a human appearance.
Thankfully, they were close to the Demon Realm. Otherwise, he and this lovesick fool would be doomed.
Pain wracked the male lead’s body. “Damn that skeleton!” he snarled. “Damn Luo Nianshang!”
The demonic cultivator, feeding on the male lead’s resentment, brightened slightly. He had omitted a crucial detail. It was true that a cat and a dog were interfering with the male lead’s destiny, but their aura of destiny was different from his.
He had never been truly aligned with the male lead, and his instincts screamed danger. A wicked plan began to form in his mind.
Instead of his usual disdain, he echoed the male lead’s anger. “Yes, damn Luo Nianshang! If it weren’t for her warrant, those righteous cultivators wouldn’t have hunted you down and severed your arm!”
Manipulation was a common tactic among demon cultivators. No one was born evil. Most succumbed to their inner demons during their pursuit of power, their hearts twisted by resentment and greed.
This manipulation became second nature to them. And this pathetic wisp of a demonic cultivator had once been a master manipulator.
The male lead sensed something was amiss, but he was accustomed to blaming others for his misfortunes. He nodded vehemently, his face contorted with rage. “When I recover, I’ll make that old hag beg for mercy!”
The demonic cultivator remained silent.
Thankfully, he had no facial expressions. Otherwise, the male lead would have seen a massive eye roll.
This fool was beyond redemption. He needed no encouragement to embrace his dark impulses.
The demonic cultivator, relishing the surge of resentment emanating from the male lead, contemplated how to break their contract. He needed a more intelligent host.
The Demon Realm was his domain. It would be easier to restore his power there.
A flicker of concern crossed his mind. “I’m too weak to help you now,” he warned. “The Demon Realm is far more dangerous than the righteous realm. Be careful.”
The male lead, lost in his own anger, grunted in response.
Using a sturdy branch as a makeshift crutch, he limped towards the Demon Realm, his tattered robes stained with dried blood. The demonic cultivator retreated into his eye.
Each step was agony. The thought of the long journey ahead filled him with dread. “You claim to be so powerful,” he whined. “Don’t you have any disciples, relatives, or friends in the Demon Realm who could help us?”
The demonic cultivator, suppressing his annoyance, replied patiently, “No.”
Then, he reconsidered. He had had disciples, once. But they were all dead.
He felt no grief for their loss. He had trained them with the intention of possessing their bodies, but they had died before he could carry out his plan.
Looking at the pathetic figure beside him, he felt a strange sense of irony. Fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor.
After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “What makes you think you can challenge the Sword Saint?”
The crimson sky of the Demon Realm loomed before them. The male lead grinned. “She’s just an old woman,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “I’ll find a way to deal with her.”
The demonic cultivator said nothing.
The “old woman” he spoke of was currently engaged in a rather ambitious landscaping project.
The Ejian Sect was comprised of numerous mountain peaks, each towering over the landscape like a giant sword, a fitting symbol for a sect known for its swordsmanship.
It was an impressive sight, but for disciples who hadn’t reached the Golden Core realm and were unable to fly, navigating these peaks was incredibly inconvenient. Simple tasks like running errands or attending morning classes became arduous journeys.
Cultivation was meant to be challenging, but Luo Nianshang felt that this particular challenge was unnecessary and counterproductive.
In her previous outings, she had been focused on eliminating demon cultivators. And her personality hadn’t exactly inclined her towards such mundane concerns. But this time, her seclusion had been longer, and the world had changed. She had noticed things she hadn’t before.
The lower-level disciples had been evacuated. Luo Nianshang hovered in the air, her robes billowing in the wind, her expression as cold and unyielding as ever.
Without unsheathing her sword, she brought her hand down in a swift, decisive chop. The mountain peak split in two.
The cat, the dog, and the Demon Lord were perched on a nearby peak, enjoying the view.
The cat and the Demon Lord watched with detached amusement, but the dog was enthralled. “Wow, she’s amazing!” Lü Qingyan exclaimed. “She’s slicing through those mountains like they’re sugarcane!”
Bai Jingxue, staring at the perfectly smooth surface of the newly cleaved mountain, couldn’t remain silent. “You’re wrong,” she said dryly.
Lü Qingyan’s excitement evaporated. She assumed she had gotten something wrong. Before she could ask for clarification, she heard the Demon Lord sigh.
“She’s not trying to connect the two peaks,” the Demon Lord muttered. “She needs to cut horizontally along the base and then move the section she wants.”
Lü Qingyan’s eyes widened. “You’re right! She messed up!”
The disciples gathered on the surrounding peaks watched in stunned silence.
The Elders and the sect leader stood together, their expressions a mixture of awe and confusion. Finally, one of the Elders couldn’t help but voice his concern. “Master,” he said hesitantly, “are you sure Ancestor Luo knows what she’s doing?”
The sect leader, his gaze fixed on the figure in the sky, frowned. “Ancestor Luo has her reasons,” he said, his voice sharp. “It’s not our place to question her.”
The Elder, chastised, retreated, but he couldn’t resist staring, his curiosity piqued.
Luo Nianshang, having delivered that single vertical strike, paused for a moment, then brought her hand down again, this time cutting horizontally along the base of the mountain. She then proceeded to lift the severed section and deposit it beside the adjacent peak, seamlessly connecting the two.
The Elder blinked, his jaw slack. Had she really made a mistake?
As doubt clouded his mind, a chorus of praise erupted around him.
“As expected of our Ancestor! Her wisdom is beyond our comprehension!”
“I am but a humble disciple, unworthy of her teachings.”
“Could that Demon Lord brat even dream of achieving such a feat?”
“Long live Ancestor Luo!”
“Don’t curse our Ancestor! She’s already nearly ten thousand years old!”
The Elder’s doubts were drowned out by the wave of adulation. He began to question his own judgment, convinced that he had failed to grasp the profound meaning behind his ancestor’s actions.
Thankfully, amidst this sea of blind worship, there was one other person who saw the truth, along with a cat and a dog.
Bai Jingxue was starting to think this world had gone mad. But then, she remembered the absurdity of the novel that had inspired it, and she felt a strange sense of peace.
Luo Nianshang descended from the sky. Bai Jingxue, seeing her clenched fists, knew that her social anxiety was acting up again.
She couldn’t understand it. How could someone so powerful still be afraid of people?
The Demon Lord rushed forward, her voice filled with feigned admiration. “That was incredible, Master!”
The cat and dog shuddered at her saccharine tone.
Lü Qingyan shook her head, her brow furrowed. “Jingxue,” she whispered, “is she being fake?”
Bai Jingxue had been about to gag, but seeing Lü Qingyan’s reaction, she decided against it. Could nausea be contagious?
She stared at the Demon Lord, who had transformed into Luo Nianshang’s biggest fan. She couldn’t understand what the Demon Lord was up to. It was all so bizarre.
She recalled a passage from the novel. The Demon Lord had become enraged when the male lead had given Luo Nianshang a more impressive birthday gift than she had.
Consumed by jealousy, she had poisoned Luo Nianshang’s wine and challenged her to a duel. Weakened by the poison, Luo Nianshang had been no match for the Demon Lord. Had the male lead not intervened, she would have been killed.
“Jingxue, what are you thinking about?”
Bai Jingxue shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. It was pointless to dwell on things she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t even speak human language, let alone influence the situation.
Her current priority was to keep a close eye on the Demon Lord, making sure she didn’t harm Luo Nianshang.
But considering Luo Nianshang’s recent display of power, were her efforts even necessary?
Did the Sword Saint really need a cat to protect her? The real concern was the infant in Fu Yuan’s room. What were they going to do about that?
She hadn’t found an opportunity to address the issue. Ever since the Demon Lord had become Luo Nianshang’s devoted disciple, Bai Jingxue had struggled to get close to the female lead.
She clicked her tongue in frustration.
Lü Qingyan, accustomed to Bai Jingxue’s silence, nudged her with her nose, then gently took her tail in her mouth.
Bai Jingxue pulled her tail away, glaring at the saliva-soaked tip. She contemplated punching the dog in the head.
Lü Qingyan, oblivious to the danger, took the tail in her mouth again, this time applying a bit more pressure. “Jingxue, come with me,” she mumbled.
Bai Jingxue understood. She rescued her tail once more, suppressing her annoyance. “Fine,” she said.
Lü Qingyan, her tail wagging excitedly, dashed ahead, then stopped, turning to look back at Bai Jingxue, who was strolling along at a leisurely pace. She whined impatiently, spinning in circles.
She spun right into a tree, collapsing with a yelp, her paws covering her head.
Before Bai Jingxue could laugh at her clumsiness, a pile of snow dislodged by the impact buried her completely.
Lü Qingyan, forgetting her headache, began to dig frantically. “Jingxue! Jingxue! Don’t die! I’m coming!”
She dug and dug, finally unearthing the small cat, which she promptly tackled.
The Demon Lord, watching their antics, couldn’t help but chuckle. She tugged on Luo Nianshang’s sleeve, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Look, Master, they’re so close.”
Luo Nianshang stared at the dog, who was now rolling on the ground, trying to shake off the cat clinging to her back. Her brow furrowed. “Has the world changed so much?” she wondered. “Is this what affection looks like now?”
She glanced at her disciple, then quickly looked away. Unwilling to appear out of touch, she nodded solemnly. “Yes, indeed.”
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