Chapter 83: A Sea of Flowers
As they walked, they encountered numerous flower vendors, young girls carrying baskets filled with colorful blooms, approaching wealthy women, their voices sweet as they offered their wares.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan no longer had to wear those suffocating head coverings. Fang Xin had taught them an illusion technique. They couldn’t fully conceal their ears and tails, but they were now invisible to ordinary mortals.
Zhu Er had also learned the technique, practicing it repeatedly. Her admiration for the Ejian Sect grew with each passing moment.
They stood out in the crowd, their beauty and their confident demeanor drawing stares. But that was only part of it.
This mortal kingdom imposed strict rules on women, demanding obedience and subservience. Women like Bai Jingxue and her companions, who radiated an aura of strength and independence, were rare.
One such woman might have been overlooked, but four of them together attracted unwanted attention.
Bai Jingxue didn’t care. She was just a visitor. Once they left, these memories would fade.
But someone, it seemed, was determined to provoke them. A folding fan suddenly appeared before her, snapping open with a flourish.
A young man, his clothes expensive, his features handsome, but his eyes filled with a lecherous glint, his intentions clear, grinned at her. “Are you new in town, little lady?” he asked, his voice oily. “Perhaps I could show you around?”
Before Bai Jingxue could react, Lü Qingyan, her temper flaring, lashed out, her foot connecting with the man’s stomach, sending him flying.
She had held back. “Scumbag!” she snarled, her face contorted with rage.
Bai Jingxue, her ears twitching, stared at Lü Qingyan, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
The onlookers, seeing that the man who had dared to approach them seemed to be dead, quickly retreated, their own intentions forgotten.
A large empty space formed around them, as if a plague had swept through the area.
Fang Xin chuckled. This scene brought back unpleasant memories. The details were hazy, but the feeling of disgust remained.
She had been riding her horse one day when the prince, returning to his mansion, had spotted her. He had sent his guards to capture her, but she had whipped them all, sending them sprawling to the ground.
But the prince had been persistent. He had approached her father, demanding her hand in marriage.
She had drawn her sword, but Fang Yue Lian had stopped her, shaking her head.
She sheathed her sword, then turned away, her face cold, her fists clenched. She was afraid she might lose control and attack someone.
But then she noticed Fang Yue Lian’s hand moving. She was casting a spell.
Fang Xin recognized it as a poison curse. The victim would endure agonizing pain, day and night. A swift death would have been more merciful.
Fang Yue Lian, her actions exposed, blinked, her expression innocent.
Fang Xin stared at her, speechless.
After all these years, she was still the same, her methods subtle, her actions hidden. But Fang Xin found it endearing.
She must be insane. She hated deceitful people.
Zhu Er, finding this scene incredibly exciting, had been holding Er Ya’s hand, but she quickly covered the girl’s eyes.
But Er Ya, her voice calm, said, “It’s okay, Sister. I understand.”
Zhu Er, surprised, withdrew her hand. This child must have suffered a lot.
She crouched down, patting Er Ya’s head. “When you’re stronger, you can fight back too,” she said, her voice gentle.
Er Ya remained silent, her gaze fixed on the unconscious man.
Zhu Er suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. She hugged herself, then looked up at the clear, sunny sky.
Bai Jingxue and the others had already moved on. Zhu Er, grabbing Er Ya’s hand, was about to follow when she noticed the Imperial Advisor standing in a nearby alley.
Remembering that she still had his jade pendant, she thrust Er Ya into Lü Qingyan’s arms. “I’ll be right back,” she said.
She had only taken a few steps when the ground began to shake. Cracks appeared, widening rapidly, swallowing the people around them.
Vines, their roots thick and strong, emerged from the cracks, grabbing those who had managed to stay on their feet, dragging them down.
One of the vines wrapped around Bai Jingxue’s ankle, but she quickly incinerated it with her flames.
She had no time to conceal her identity. She summoned her sword, hovering in the air, her gaze scanning the chaotic scene below.
Lü Qingyan, carrying Er Ya, leaped onto a rooftop. The cracks had widened, their depths filled with a writhing mass of vines. “Damn it,” she muttered.
Those who had fallen were doomed.
A silk thread shot out, attaching itself to the side of the building, then tightened. Lü Qingyan saw Zhu Er, carrying someone in her arms, swinging towards them.
It was the Imperial Advisor.
Lü Qingyan stared at Zhu Er’s four extra arms, remembering a dance performance she had seen on television in her past life, the Thousand-Hand Guanyin. Zhu Er’s current form reminded her of that.
Zhu Er set the Imperial Advisor down. He had almost fallen into the chasm, and she had used her silk threads to rescue him.
He stared at the scene below, his face pale with horror.
The number of casualties far exceeded those of the rat demon’s victims.
But they had no time to mourn. Flowers of all shapes and colors bloomed from the vines, their beauty a stark contrast to the carnage below.
They bloomed instantly, their petals unfurling.
The stench of blood was replaced by the cloying sweetness of flowers. Sensing the presence of living beings, the flowers turned, their gazes fixed on their nearest targets.
Bai Jingxue and the Fang sisters were hovering in the air on their swords, so the closest targets were Lü Qingyan and the others.
The vines, their growth rapid, reached the building, their tendrils wrapping around it, then pulling. The building collapsed.
Lü Qingyan, carrying Er Ya, mounted her sword. Zhu Er, carrying the Imperial Advisor, leaped onto another rooftop.
The vines, abandoning their pursuit of Lü Qingyan, turned towards Zhu Er and the Imperial Advisor.
The once bustling city was now a ruin, a sea of flowers blooming amidst the debris, their beauty masking the horror.
Bai Jingxue was about to pull Zhu Er up when a silk thread shot out, wrapping around her sword hilt. Zhu Er, using the thread to propel herself upwards, landed gracefully beside Bai Jingxue.
The scent of living beings faded, and the vines, their movements serpentine, rose, intertwining, their numbers growing.
Fang Xin, watching this, cold sweat beading on her forehead, her voice strained, said, “There’s no demonic aura. And I can’t sense its cultivation level.”
Bai Jingxue, staring at the sea of flowers below, channeled her spiritual energy, unleashing a torrent of flames.
The outer layers of the vines, their leaves and flowers, were incinerated, and Bai Jingxue, seeing that her flames were effective, felt a surge of relief.
But a moment later, the flowers began to devour the flames.
She had never seen anything like this. The flames and the flowers battled, each consuming the other, until only a few flickering embers remained.
Having absorbed the flames, the vines grew even faster, the burned areas regenerating rapidly.
Bai Jingxue realized, with a surge of horror, that these flowers possessed the same ability as her flames.
“We have to go!” she shouted.
They fled, their swords carrying them swiftly towards the city gates, the vines reaching for them, their movements relentless.
But the flowers were slow. They managed to escape.
But when they reached the city gates, they discovered that the same strange phenomenon had spread beyond the city walls.
They flew for a long time, finally reaching Zhu Er’s dilapidated temple.
Fang Xin, landing gracefully, summoned a messenger bird. This was beyond the capabilities of the Ejian Sect. They had to inform the other sects.
“You can put me down now, Immortal,” the Imperial Advisor said.
Zhu Er, startled, realized she was still carrying him. This was the first time she had been addressed as an “immortal.” It felt strange.
She set him down, then, remembering something, she retrieved a jade pendant from her sleeve, offering it to him. “Here,” she said. “This is yours.”
The Imperial Advisor, taking the pendant, his emotions complex, stared at it. The capital, in the blink of an eye, had been reduced to rubble. Chaos would surely follow.
And he, who should have died, had been saved by this pendant, though his life wouldn’t last much longer.
He tucked the pendant away, his voice sincere. “I am indebted to you, Immortal,” he said. “May I know your name?”
Zhu Er, who had never encountered someone so eloquent, smiled. “I’m Zhu Er,” she said. “And you?”
“My name is Luo Liancheng.”
Zhu Er nodded, her voice filled with approval. “Luo Liancheng,” she repeated. “That’s a beautiful name.”
Bai Jingxue, overhearing their conversation, her brow furrowing, glanced at them. Zhu Er and the Imperial Advisor hadn’t stood together at the inn. Now, seeing them side-by-side, she felt a strange unease.
Seeing that the Fang sisters had finished sending their message, she approached them. “Do you two have any disciples?” she asked.
Fang Xin shook her head. “No.”
Fang Yue Lian, assuming Bai Jingxue was making a request, smiled. “We have high standards,” she said. “We haven’t found anyone suitable yet.”
Bai Jingxue mentally calculated the timeline, but she wasn’t sure. “How long have you been at the Ejian Sect?” she asked.
It wasn’t a secret. The Fang sisters exchanged a glance, then Fang Xin replied, “Eighty-six years.”
Eighty-six years. Luo Nianshang hadn’t been born yet.
Bai Jingxue, realizing the implications, turned to stare at Zhu Er and Luo Liancheng, her eyes wide with horror.
Lü Qingyan, seeing her reaction, tugged her sleeve. “What’s wrong?”
Bai Jingxue, processing her suspicions, her gaze fixed on Zhu Er and Luo Liancheng, felt a strange mix of emotions.
If she stayed here for a few years, would she be able to hold the newly born Luo Nianshang?
This was confusing. She was Luo Nianshang’s pet, but also Luo Nianshang’s master’s junior sister, and now, she was the same generation as Luo Nianshang’s mother.
She couldn’t figure it out.
So Luo Nianshang would be half-human, half-demon.
Remembering something that had happened before her transformation, her suspicions solidified.
She turned to Lü Qingyan. “Look at them,” she said. “What do you see?”
Lü Qingyan stared at Zhu Er and the Imperial Advisor. They were chatting, one filled with excitement, the other with a barely concealed sadness.
Lü Qingyan thought for a moment, then slapped her thigh. “Clueless and Grumpy!”
Bai Jingxue, surprised by that answer, looked at them again.
“Hey, she’s right.”
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