Chapter 95: The Truth
Bai Jingxue and Luo Nianshang exchanged information. Upon learning that this world was actually a novel, Luo Nianshang, usually quiet and reserved, became surprisingly talkative.
She listened as Bai Jingxue summarized the original story, then her brows furrowed, her expression troubled.
After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice laced with disbelief. “You’re saying that I… and the Demon Lord… fought and were jealous over such a pathetic man?”
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, the pale blue flowers swaying gently, their petals threatening to fall.
Bai Jingxue stared at the flowers growing on the cliffside. They had sensed the presence of demons, their stems reaching upwards, then, sensing Luo Nianshang’s aura, their fear overriding their instincts, they retreated, their movements subdued.
The details of the original story no longer mattered. Only the setting was relevant. Bai Jingxue was relieved.
She knew the male lead was dead. She understood why the stars had shifted that night. The protagonist of this world had changed. But she was also worried.
The male lead had been a notorious womanizer. Every female character in the story had fallen for him, becoming part of his harem.
She nodded, confirming Luo Nianshang’s question, then she discreetly glanced at Luo Nianshang’s face, its beauty enhanced by a faint, ethereal glow, a hint of divinity.
Luo Nianshang’s personality, her aloof and righteous nature, didn’t seem capable of such behavior. But She Yuwei’s story had claimed that Luo Nianshang would only love one person.
Bai Jingxue disliked spoilers, so she only knew the general outline of the story. She didn’t know who that “one person” was.
Luo Nianshang, her head bowed, was lost in her thoughts. If Bai Jingxue could read minds, she would know that Luo Nianshang was thinking about the Demon Lord.
Luo Nianshang, realizing that her thoughts were straying towards dangerous territory, quickly refocused, reminding herself that there were more important matters to consider. But she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the Demon Lord.
This wasn’t good.
She was overwhelmed by the information she had received: Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan were from another world, the cycle of reincarnation was malfunctioning, and Bai Jingxue had revealed the truth about Luo Nianshang’s past.
Luo Nianshang wasn’t surprised by her half-human, half-demon heritage. Her masters had never hidden it from her, but she had never learned her parents’ names.
Now, in this distant future, she had heard about them from the cat she had picked up.
She had faced so many changes since waking from that dream. She sighed, but her gaze remained firm. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll investigate this.”
Bai Jingxue, reassured by the female lead’s determination, decided to leave. She knew that her presence was making Luo Nianshang uncomfortable.
“Then I’ll take my leave,” she said.
She turned to go, but Luo Nianshang’s voice stopped her.
“Wait.”
Bai Jingxue, surprised, turned back to face her. “Do you have any more questions, Venerable One?”
Luo Nianshang, her head bowed, her voice calm, asked, “Did that book say anything else about the Demon Lord?”
Bai Jingxue hadn’t expected that question. But based on the current situation, although the male lead was gone, their relationship was still strained.
So Luo Nianshang was trying to gather information about the Demon Lord’s weaknesses.
But Bai Jingxue also cared about the Demon Lord.
The Demon Lord had endured a difficult childhood, yet she hadn’t become twisted or cruel. She might be reckless and impulsive, but she possessed a strong sense of justice, a trait many righteous cultivators lacked.
She wasn’t truly a villain. She simply happened to be Luo Nianshang’s opponent.
As a reader, Bai Jingxue hoped they could find a way to coexist peacefully. She decided to speak up for the Demon Lord.
“The Demon Lord is different from the typical demon cultivator,” she said. “Both her demonic influence and her ascension to the throne were driven by fate. Please, try to see her differently, Venerable One.”
“She wasn’t the one who massacred that village,” she continued. “Her unique constitution made her a target. She has suffered greatly. She became the Demon Lord to protect herself.”
Luo Nianshang listened in silence. She knew this Demon Lord was different from her predecessors. Qiu Yingxi, since her ascension, had been surprisingly quiet, almost too quiet.
But it was difficult for a demon cultivator to maintain a pure heart. Her own attitude towards demon cultivators had shifted over the years. She had initially hated them, then she had encountered a child who had succumbed to demonic influence out of hatred. She had tried to save him, but she had failed.
Her stance had wavered, and when she had sensed the possibility of redeeming Qiu Yingxi, she had been willing to try. But then, so much had happened. She had been twice subjected to the Demon Lord’s advances, her anger overriding her desire for peace.
Seeing Luo Nianshang’s contemplative expression, Bai Jingxue realized her words had been too sudden, too direct. She sighed, then left.
She returned to her room, only to be tackled by Lü Qingyan.
“Jingxue, you’re back!”
Bai Jingxue, Lü Qingyan clinging to her, couldn’t help but smile. Thankfully, they were alone. She wasn’t embarrassed.
Seeing that Lü Qingyan had no intention of letting go, she patted Lü Qingyan’s back gently. “Let go of me,” she said. “I need to rest.”
Lü Qingyan, her need for affection satisfied, released her, then followed Bai Jingxue into the room.
Bai Jingxue, glancing back at the little dog trailing behind her, noticed that Lü Qingyan seemed unusually happy.
Bai Jingxue couldn’t understand her optimism, but Lü Qingyan’s smile, as always, was infectious.
That smile had illuminated the darkness of her past life.
Bai Jingxue couldn’t help but smile, her expression softening.
She settled at the table, pouring herself a cup of tea, then paused, her gaze fixed on Lü Qingyan. “Why are you so happy?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan settled beside her, leaning against her shoulder. “Because something good happened,” she said.
That was a rather vague answer. Bai Jingxue took a sip of her tea, its bitterness unpleasant.
She preferred milk tea. She suddenly missed it.
But she had no idea how to return to her own world, or what she would even do if she did.
She was avoiding reality. This world might be more dangerous, but it had been surprisingly kind to her.
She had been incredibly lucky in this life. It almost felt unreal.
She sighed, lamenting her own suspicious nature. Even when happiness was within reach, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a trick, a prelude to more pain.
“Jingxue, do you still remember our promise?”
Bai Jingxue, confused, blinked. “What promise?”
Lü Qingyan, her voice filled with an excited urgency, her hands gesturing wildly, as if afraid Bai Jingxue had forgotten, said, “You promised that if the Demon Lord and the Sword Saint became friends, you would get back together with me! You didn’t forget, did you?”
So that was it. Bai Jingxue had an excellent memory. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten.
It had simply been an excuse, a way to deflect Lü Qingyan’s advances. But now, it seemed Lü Qingyan was taking it seriously.
Silly dog. They were practically together already.
Bai Jingxue nodded. “I remember,” she said. “But…”
Before she could finish, Lü Qingyan, her smile wide, her hand outstretched, said, “Pinky swear! One hundred years, no take-backs!”
Bai Jingxue, staring at Lü Qingyan’s outstretched pinky, chuckled. “Are you a child?”
But she extended her own pinky, intertwining it with Lü Qingyan’s.
She couldn’t bring herself to say the childish rhyme. The only time she had said it had been in her past life.
She had waved Lü Qingyan’s love letter, enjoying the girl’s flustered reaction.
She had been a terrible person. She had enjoyed seeing the girl’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. But that girl had to be Lü Qingyan.
She had no idea how Lü Qingyan had transformed from a rebellious delinquent into a lovesick puppy, but perhaps she had always been this way. Bai Jingxue had simply never noticed.
“You received it,” Bai Jingxue had said, her voice teasing. “So what do you think of me?”
Even the most confident person could become insecure in front of the person they loved.
Bai Jingxue had stared at her, surprised. She had never imagined anyone would love her, and she had never imagined that she would love them back.
What was she supposed to do?
She had thought about it for a long time. Rationality had dictated that her family situation wouldn’t allow her to accept Lü Qingyan’s feelings.
She had taken a deep breath, her voice calm and measured. “You know about my family,” she had said. “You…”
“That doesn’t matter,” Lü Qingyan had interrupted, her gaze meeting Bai Jingxue’s. “Look at me. What do you think of me?”
Bai Jingxue had looked at her.
She was beautiful, cheerful, and talented. She could sing, dance, and play sports.
They were from different worlds. Bai Jingxue had wanted to run, to hide. “You’re amazing,” she had said, her voice hesitant, her gaze dropping to the floor. “But…”
Lü Qingyan had interrupted her again, her cheeks still flushed, but her eyes filled with a determined intensity. “So you like me too, right?”
She had leaned closer, and Bai Jingxue had heard her own heartbeat quicken.
Her rationality had vanished.
“Jingxue, I’m serious,” Lü Qingyan had said, her voice soft.
“I want to be with you. I want you to be part of my life. I know my reputation isn’t great, but you know I’m not that bad.”
“It’s okay if you don’t understand,” she had continued. “I’ll prove it to you. Just don’t reject me yet, okay?”
Her voice had been so sincere, her usual arrogance replaced by a vulnerability that had surprised Bai Jingxue.
But she didn’t like seeing Lü Qingyan like this.
She had opened the love letter, her gaze scanning the lines, her assessment simple: “Too many flowery words.”
She had reached the last line, then carefully refolded the letter along its original creases.
She had sighed, her gaze fixed on the sky, then she had smiled.
She had wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her voice nonchalant. “The wind is making my eyes dry,” she had said.
Lü Qingyan had clenched her fists, then reached for Bai Jingxue’s hand, but she had quickly withdrawn it, afraid of scaring Bai Jingxue. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she had said, her voice a nervous stammer.
She had turned to leave, but a hand had grabbed hers, stopping her. She had turned back to see Bai Jingxue.
“Your love letter wasn’t very good,” Bai Jingxue had said, her voice soft.
Lü Qingyan’s heart had sunk, and she had forced a smile, but Bai Jingxue’s next words had made her smile genuine.
“But you’re not bad.”
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