Chapter 20: Cunning
On their way back to the Ejian Sect, Luo Nianshang picked up Fu Yuan, who had completed her mission and was about to venture deeper into the Demon Realm to search for the cat.
Normally, Bai Jingxue would have been nestled in Luo Nianshang’s arms, but that spot was currently occupied. She had no choice but to settle on Fu Yuan’s shoulder.
The Demon Lord, cradled in Luo Nianshang’s arms, seemed to be asleep, occasionally coughing, her pale lips stained with blood.
Bai Jingxue noticed the subtle furrow in Luo Nianshang’s brow, the concern hidden in her eyes.
Fu Yuan was surprised to encounter her ancestor. Such opportunities were rare within the sect.
She had been too nervous during the disciple selection to mention the issue with the infant. And now, with her ancestor’s disciple severely injured, it didn’t seem like an appropriate time to bring it up.
She decided to keep her concerns to herself for now.
Thanks to Luo Nianshang’s power, they quickly returned to the Ejian Sect.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan had a favorable impression of Fu Yuan, so they watched as she departed, their tails waving in farewell.
Luo Nianshang, eager to tend to her disciple’s injuries, took off with the Demon Lord in her arms, leaving the cat and dog to make their own way up the mountain.
Lü Qingyan was delighted. She loved spending time with Bai Jingxue, chattering away about everything and nothing.
“Jingxue, what do you think the Demon Lord is up to?”
Bai Jingxue ignored her, quickening her pace.
She, too, was pondering that very question, but without her human form, her access to information was limited.
Based on the novel’s premise, the Demon Realm was just as hostile towards the righteous and demon realms as they were towards each other. Before Luo Nianshang’s emergence, the three realms had maintained a delicate balance of power. But Luo Nianshang had disrupted that balance.
That was all the information the book provided. However, based on her own analysis, Bai Jingxue concluded that the Demon Realm wouldn’t want the righteous and demon realms to unite, nor would they want them to coexist peacefully.
So what was the Demon Lord’s strategy in this situation?
Lü Qingyan’s theory wasn’t entirely implausible. If a conflict erupted between the righteous and demon realms, the Demon Realm could certainly exploit the situation to their advantage.
Bai Jingxue paused, her thoughts troubled. The world she had come from had been relatively peaceful. This constant struggle for power was unsettling.
Lü Qingyan, following Bai Jingxue’s tracks, noticed that the cat had stopped.
“What are you thinking about, Jingxue?” she asked, her tail wagging.
Bai Jingxue finally turned to face her. She couldn’t comprehend the dog’s unwavering cheerfulness, but she envied her carefree nature.
She stared at Lü Qingyan, her gaze intense, until the dog, despite her thick skin, blushed under the scrutiny.
They continued their ascent. The path here was clear, the disciples having diligently swept away the snow.
Bai Jingxue watched the disciples going about their duties, her thoughts drifting to the fate of the Ejian Sect in the original story.
After Luo Nianshang had left the sect to follow the male lead, the Ejian Sect had slowly declined.
The Demon Lord, consumed by hatred for anything associated with Luo Nianshang, had unleashed her fury upon the sect. A devastating fire had reduced the once-proud sect to rubble.
Now, with the plot altered, Bai Jingxue wondered what the future held for the Ejian Sect.
At least for now, the disciples seemed content, their faces filled with purpose as they carried out their tasks.
“You’re brooding again, Jingxue.”
“Yes.”
This time, Bai Jingxue didn’t remain silent. She loved things that brought her peace, like watching Lü Qingyan compete in the long jump from the stands.
She couldn’t explain why she found it so captivating, but watching Lü Qingyan, waiting for her to turn and wave, her face beaming with pride as she boasted about her score, had made Bai Jingxue’s own life feel a little less mundane.
Dwelling on the past was dangerous. Bai Jingxue, always a rational creature, pulled herself back to the present.
She took one last look at the disciples, then turned and continued her ascent, ignoring Lü Qingyan’s attempts to engage her in conversation.
Upon returning to Luo Nianshang’s chamber, however, her composure shattered. This world was truly insane.
The Demon Lord’s cooking was one thing. Her cultivation had been achieved through unorthodox means, and she was relatively young compared to other cultivators. It was understandable that she might be fascinated by the mortal realm.
But could someone please explain why Luo Nianshang, the epitome of stoic detachment, was now covered in soot and flour, attempting to cook?
Bai Jingxue kept her thoughts to herself, while Lü Qingyan’s shock was evident on her face.
“Am I hallucinating?” she exclaimed. “The female lead is cooking!”
“Did we transmigrate into the wrong novel?”
Bai Jingxue covered her ears with her paws.
Cooking, however, was clearly not one of Luo Nianshang’s strengths. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her grip on the cleaver as tight as if she were wielding her sword, her entire being radiating a murderous aura as she focused on the white radish on the cutting board.
A flash of light, and the radish, the cutting board, and the large stone beneath it were sliced cleanly in half.
The sight of Luo Nianshang’s bewildered expression paired with the carnage before her was incredibly comical. Lü Qingyan collapsed onto the floor, howling with laughter.
But the entertainment wasn’t over yet. The cleaver in Luo Nianshang’s hand suddenly shattered, its fragments scattering in the wind.
Even Bai Jingxue couldn’t help but smile.
Luo Nianshang, thoroughly embarrassed, tossed aside the cleaver handle and retrieved a jade slip from her spatial ring.
It was a mission token, used to post tasks on behalf of the sect.
She inscribed the details of her request, and the jade slip, losing its luster, transformed into a dull, gray stone.
Luo Nianshang returned the stone to her spatial ring and crouched by the chamber entrance, attempting to brew a medicinal concoction. However, when she waved her fan, a powerful gust of wind swept through the area.
The fire was extinguished, the herbs scattered, and even the snow on the ground and in the sky vanished.
Lü Qingyan rolled on the floor, her laughter echoing through the chamber. “Hahaha! What was that? She fanned away winter!”
Luo Nianshang, her expression still etched with bewilderment, stared at the scene, unsure of what to do. Finally, she decided to head to the sect’s pharmacy to replenish her supply of herbs.
“Master.”
The Demon Lord’s voice, weak and laced with pain, reached them through the newly falling snow.
Luo Nianshang rushed back into the chamber.
Bai Jingxue followed, eager to see what the Demon Lord was up to.
The chamber was warm, the snowflakes melting the moment they landed on her fur. She shook herself off and looked up.
Thanks to her new disciple, the chamber now had a bed. Normally, Luo Nianshang would meditate on the bed, but she was clearly too preoccupied with her disciple’s well-being to focus on her cultivation.
The Demon Lord had somehow managed to conceal her true identity from Luo Nianshang. Her performance as a sickly, vulnerable disciple was quite convincing.
Her long hair was loose, her face pale. She had shed her red robes, clad only in a thin white undergarment, a blue silk blanket pulled up to her chin as she coughed weakly.
“Her acting is top-notch,” Lü Qingyan whispered, nudging Bai Jingxue with her nose.
Bai Jingxue nodded. And the Demon Lord wasn’t shy about performing for an audience. The more people watching, the more dramatic her performance became. She coughed again, a deep, rattling sound that seemed to come from the depths of her lungs.
She clutched her chest, her body trembling, her voice a soft whimper. “Master,” she said, her eyes filled with tears, “I’m so cold.”
Luo Nianshang adjusted the temperature in the chamber, but her disciple continued to shiver.
Luo Nianshang, a seasoned warrior, had never suffered a serious injury. As long as she was alive, she considered herself fine. She had never cared for anyone, let alone herself.
She awkwardly took her disciple’s wrist, channeling her spiritual energy into her body, trying to soothe her meridians. But her energy was too cold, too harsh. It had no effect.
Seeing that her disciple was still trembling, she panicked, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
The Demon Lord, observing her distress, let a small smile curve her lips. Then, she resumed her pitiful act, her voice a soft plea. “Master, may I… may I lie in your arms?”
Luo Nianshang froze, then slowly nodded.
“She’s doing it!” Lü Qingyan exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief.
Bai Jingxue, her ears twitching, was about to deliver a swift retaliatory swat to the dog’s head, but before she could, Lü Qingyan collapsed.
Bai Jingxue froze, her paw raised, staring at the dog, who lay on her back, her paws flailing in the air.
But Lü Qingyan wasn’t done yet. She whined, her voice a syrupy purr. “I’m injured, Jingxue,” she said. “I need cuddles to recover.”
She then proceeded to wriggle around on the floor, batting her eyelashes at Bai Jingxue.
Bai Jingxue, her patience exhausted, lowered her paw and walked away, her heart heavy.
Seeing that her tactic had failed, Lü Qingyan scrambled to her feet and chased after Bai Jingxue.
“Jingxue, wait! I’m sorry!”
Bai Jingxue, hearing the desperation in Lü Qingyan’s voice, sped up, her movements a blur as she tried to escape.
Unfortunately, she was no match for Lü Qingyan’s speed.
As they ran, they encountered more and more disciples. Curious, Bai Jingxue paused, listening to their conversation.
She leaped onto a tree branch, but the surface beneath her paws felt strange. It wasn’t the cold of snow or the rough texture of bark. It was warm and soft.
She looked down, meeting Lü Qingyan’s gaze.
She had landed on the dog’s back.
Before she could jump down, she was distracted by the conversation below.
“Why did Ancestor Luo suddenly post a mission?”
“I have no idea. I’m just here for the show.”
“Ugh, there are too many people! I can’t even see the details of the request.”
“Well, it’s Ancestor Luo’s mission! Even the elite disciples from the Inner Sect are skipping their cultivation to be here.”
Bai Jingxue, staring at the crowd gathered before the Merit Hall, thought back to Luo Nianshang’s recent mishaps. There was a certain irony to this situation.
She was curious about the task Luo Nianshang had posted. She leaped down from the tree and, using her small size and agility to her advantage, made her way to the front of the crowd, where she perched on the edge of the Merit Hall table.
At the top of the board was a section for unranked tasks. It was currently empty, except for a single token.
She stared at the token, and its contents appeared in her mind, the information conveyed through a series of images and emotions.
Bai Jingxue, her literacy skills still rudimentary, struggled to translate the message, her blood pressure rising with each passing moment.
Lü Qingyan, using her teleportation ability, settled beside Bai Jingxue. She stared at the token, but she couldn’t decipher its meaning. “Jingxue, what does it say?” she asked.
Bai Jingxue remained silent for a long time, so long that Lü Qingyan assumed she didn’t want to answer.
Just as she was about to give up, Bai Jingxue spoke. “Seeking a disciple skilled in cooking and brewing medicinal concoctions,” she said, her voice flat. “Generous reward offered.”
Leave a Reply