Chapter 67: A Debt of Gratitude
Luo Nianshang sat on the roof, lost in thought. The righteous and demon realms were at peace. There was little need for her intervention.
But with the Demon Lord still posing a potential threat, she hadn’t retreated into seclusion.
She spent her days in a daze, her thoughts a jumbled mess.
Bai Jingxue, carrying Lü Qingyan in her arms, leaped onto the roof, settling down near Luo Nianshang.
She was here to seek help. This situation was too bizarre. If she approached Zhu Chi directly, asking for the whale demon’s bones, claiming that she could revive her by planting them…
It was unthinkable. She was newly transformed, her reputation nonexistent. No one would trust her.
But Luo Nianshang was different. She was the most powerful being in the righteous realm, her reputation impeccable. She was the embodiment of reliability.
Bai Jingxue, seeing that Luo Nianshang remained motionless, her gaze fixed on the sky, her posture resembling a statue, sighed.
Knowing Luo Nianshang’s social anxiety, she decided to take the initiative. “Venerable One,” she said, her voice soft, “I have a request.”
Luo Nianshang nodded slightly. “Tell me.”
“How is Sect Leader Zhu?” Bai Jingxue asked.
Luo Nianshang’s brow furrowed with worry. “She’s showing signs of demonic influence,” she said, her voice laced with concern.
Anyone who had experienced such a tragedy would be affected, especially when that whale demon had held such a special place in Zhu Chi’s heart. The fact that she hadn’t succumbed to demonic influence immediately was a testament to her strength.
But Zhu Chi’s situation was unusual. It seemed an external force was preventing her from fully embracing the darkness.
But she wouldn’t be able to resist it for much longer.
Luo Nianshang’s emotions were complex. She had once vowed to eradicate all demon cultivators from the world, driven by grief over her masters’ deaths. But she had since realized that the world wasn’t so black and white.
If someone like Zhu Chi fell to demonic influence, would she truly strike her down?
Bai Jingxue stared at her for a moment, then asked, “What are your thoughts, Venerable One?”
Luo Nianshang, after a long silence, sighed. “It would be a tragedy,” she said.
Regardless of the reason, a demon cultivator was still a demon cultivator. She would be ostracized, hunted down, her position as the sect leader of the Spring Snow Sect stripped away.
And humans and demons were different. To fall to demonic influence for a demon… it would be a disgrace, not a love story.
But she understood Zhu Chi.
She had encountered countless prodigies during her long life. They all possessed a certain pride.
When that pride was wounded, their souls often twisted, their hearts turning towards darkness.
She had witnessed it firsthand. Before her arrival, her senior sister had been the most promising disciple of their generation. But Luo Nianshang’s arrival had overshadowed her, her position usurped.
One day, she had lured the naive Luo Nianshang out of the sect, intending to push her off a cliff. She had succeeded.
The wind had whipped past Luo Nianshang’s ears as she plummeted, her senior sister’s face, contorted in a triumphant grin, growing distant.
Then, that face, along with the body, had separated. Master Fang Xin, her sword dripping with blood, had appeared behind her senior sister’s corpse.
Luo Nianshang had landed in someone’s arms, a faint scent of herbs filling her senses. Master Yue Lian’s voice, filled with relief, had reached her ears. “I caught you,” she had said. “Are you alright?”
Luo Nianshang had shaken her head, staring up at her senior sister’s headless corpse, her chest constricting.
It hadn’t been the first time she had witnessed such darkness, and it wouldn’t be the last.
But Zhu Chi was different. She had been humiliated, her pride shattered, forced to endure a century of ridicule after being defeated by Luo Nianshang.
But she hadn’t harbored any resentment. She had even approached Luo Nianshang one day, a smile on her face. “You’re amazing, Sword Saint,” she had said. “May I visit you often?”
Luo Nianshang closed her eyes. “Even at my level, there are things I cannot do.”
Bai Jingxue understood. Luo Nianshang wanted to save Zhu Chi.
She patted Lü Qingyan’s head, but there was no response.
Lü Qingyan had been unusually diligent in her cultivation lately.
Bai Jingxue, her hand lingering on Lü Qingyan’s fur, then withdrew it, not wanting to disturb her.
She smiled at the sleeping dog, then turned to Luo Nianshang, her voice soft. “What if I had a way to revive the whale demon?” she asked.
In the Spring Snow Sect’s water prison, Yi Tian hung suspended from chains bolted to the ceiling, the water reaching her nose.
Her body was covered in wounds, the blood staining the water crimson. Her eyes were closed, her mind clearly not in a good state.
Footsteps echoed through the silent chamber, then paused. The sound of a lock clicking open followed.
Yi Tian forced her eyes open. She was below ground level, as if she had been thrown into a cellar. All she could see was a pair of black shoes.
She looked up, her gaze meeting Zhu Chi’s. A mocking smile curved her lips. “Have you come to gloat, Sect Leader?” she asked, her voice weak. “Too bad you can’t see.”
Zhu Chi chuckled, then stepped on Yi Tian’s head, pushing her beneath the water.
Yi Tian, her cultivation crippled, could no longer conceal her presence. She thrashed her arms, struggling to breathe, but her efforts only created ripples on the surface of the water.
When her struggles ceased, Zhu Chi withdrew her foot. She summoned her guqin, holding it close, then stepped back, avoiding the splashes of water.
Her voice was soft, as if she were speaking to her beloved. “See?” she whispered. “I avenged you.”
“Cough! Cough! Cough!”
Yi Tian coughed violently, then, realizing she was still alive, she let out a scream of rage. “You bitch, Zhu Chi! Kill me! Just kill me!”
She had been imprisoned for three days, enduring the same tortures she had inflicted upon that little demon. But without her cultivation, she was just a mortal, her body weak and fragile.
Whenever she was on the verge of death, Zhu Chi would stop, then, using her own life force, she would heal Yi Tian, resuming the torture.
Death had become a luxury.
This wasn’t what Yi Tian had expected, but it also filled her with a strange sense of excitement.
Zhu Chi wasn’t so perfect after all. She was just as cruel and ruthless as Yi Tian!
“You bitch!” Yi Tian screamed, her voice filled with a manic glee. “You monster! Hahaha! You betrayed the Spring Snow Sect! You’re torturing me! You hypocrite! Hahaha!”
Zhu Chi plucked a string on her guqin, silencing Yi Tian.
“You don’t need your tongue if you can’t speak,” she said, her voice still calm and gentle. “You blinded me and destroyed my beloved. You’re only provoking me because you want to die.”
“But we were sisters,” she continued, her smile unwavering. “I wouldn’t let you die so easily. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time.”
Yi Tian stared at Zhu Chi, her smile more terrifying than any demonic expression.
She was afraid, but she couldn’t even scream.
Zhu Chi, satisfied with the day’s entertainment, left the water prison, her guqin clutched in her arms.
The sunlight warmed her skin, but her heart remained cold.
She tilted the guqin, allowing the sunlight to bathe its surface, then rested her head against it. “Let’s enjoy the sun, clueless one,” she whispered.
She suddenly sensed something, her head tilting upwards. “Venerable One,” she said, her voice laced with surprise. “And who are these two?”
Luo Nianshang, staring at Zhu Chi, her heart heavy, could sense the woman’s shattered spirit, her body held together by pure hatred.
She sighed. “This is Bai Jingxue,” she said, “and He Rong.”
She landed gracefully. “I’ve found a suitable location for the burial,” she said.
Zhu Chi’s smile was strained. “Thank you for your efforts, Venerable One.”
She had brought the whale demon’s bones back. She was heartbroken, but she understood that some things were beyond her control.
The demon’s skeleton was large. She had asked Luo Nianshang to find a suitable burial site.
Bai Jingxue had left Lü Qingyan at the mansion, bringing He Rong instead.
He Rong, nestled in Bai Jingxue’s arms, watched the two women talking, her brow furrowed with confusion. She didn’t understand why she was here. “What do I have to do, Pretty Liar?” she asked.
Bai Jingxue was annoyed by that nickname, but she had given up on correcting He Rong.
Zhu Chi and Luo Nianshang, their conversation concluded, took to the sky, and Bai Jingxue quickly followed.
“Pretty Liar, you still haven’t told me what I have to do,” He Rong said.
“We’re going to plant a whale,” Bai Jingxue replied calmly.
He Rong’s eyes widened. “A goldfish?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement. “I love goldfish! They’re so small and cute!”
A small whale?
Bai Jingxue’s mind struggled to process that image. By the time she recovered, they had reached their destination.
It was an abandoned spirit vein. Although it was no longer active, using it as a burial site was extravagant.
“What do you think?” Luo Nianshang asked.
It was close to the Spring Snow Sect, allowing Zhu Chi to visit easily. The scenery was beautiful, the plants and animals thriving, their bodies infused with spiritual energy. It was a perfect location.
Zhu Chi, though blind, could sense the abundant spiritual energy. She trusted Luo Nianshang’s judgment. “It’s perfect,” she said. “Thank you.”
Luo Nianshang nodded. She had already prepared the site. A deep pit awaited them.
Zhu Chi retrieved the bones from her spatial ring, using her spiritual energy to carefully arrange them within the pit.
Luo Nianshang waved a hand, and the pit was filled.
The moment the earth covered the bones, Bai Jingxue patted He Rong’s shoulder, her voice serious. “It’s up to you now.”
He Rong nodded solemnly, then closed her eyes, chanting a spell.
The sky darkened, the wind howling, trees snapping.
Bai Jingxue, her hand resting on He Rong’s shoulder, felt her spiritual energy draining, her body weakening. She collapsed to the ground, her vision blurring.
She struggled to keep her eyes open, but the dark clouds above had been replaced by something even darker. A vast shadow enveloped them, blocking out the sky.
She could barely speak, but she couldn’t help but gasp, “That’s a big tree.”
Had they succeeded?
Pale blue flowers bloomed on the branches, then withered, replaced by fruits, which grew larger and larger, until they split open.
It was identical to that day. They had succeeded.
Darkness claimed her, her body collapsing.
She dreamed of her past life, then was awakened by Lü Qingyan’s voice.
She had often fainted in her past life, waking to find Lü Qingyan by her side. But this time, there were many people surrounding her bed: Qingyan, Luo Nianshang, Zhu Chi, Fu Yuan, He Rong, Jwan Jwan, Ying, and a blue-haired girl she didn’t recognize.
She sat up, her body weak, her voice hoarse. “How long have I been asleep?”
Lü Qingyan, her voice choked with sobs, threw her arms around Bai Jingxue. “Two months.”
Bai Jingxue lifted Lü Qingyan, chuckling. “You still haven’t transformed?”
Luo Nianshang, sensing the dog’s embarrassment, interjected, “She’s almost there.”
Zhu Chi, standing at a distance, watched them. Luo Nianshang had explained everything. She was filled with gratitude.
She had never witnessed such a resurrection, but the little clueless one, though now a child, possessed all her memories.
She stared at Bai Jingxue, her heart filled with a warmth she hadn’t felt in centuries.
She had made a decision.
She would repay this debt, even if it cost her life.
Leave a Reply