Chapter 60: Disciple and Wife
The City Lord, her eyes filled with grief, said, “I’ll agree to any request. The city’s treasury is open to you, Immortal Masters. Take whatever you need.”
She sat at the table, her slender fingers gripping her teacup, her eyes red-rimmed, her face etched with the pain of a mother who had lost her only child.
The woman in plain robes standing behind her gently steadied her. “City Lord…”
A maid, hovering anxiously nearby, added, “City Lord, the physician warned you against emotional distress.”
“I’m fine.” The City Lord, placing a hand over her steward’s, looked at Cen Dianshuang, whose expression remained calm and impassive. “Please, Immortal Masters, have mercy and save our city.”
Looking at Cen Dianshuang, one wouldn’t have guessed she had been on the verge of storming the demon’s lair the previous night.
Tao Ning had managed to dissuade her, arguing that even a powerful cultivator could be overwhelmed by a demon skilled in manipulation, especially within its own territory.
Now, at dawn, guided by the innkeeper, the City Lord stood before them, seeking their help.
Tao Ning, as a disciple, remained standing behind Cen Dianshuang, glancing at her master before addressing the grieving City Lord.
“Mercy and salvation are the domain of Buddhist cultivators. We are but humble travelers, our cultivation unremarkable.”
The maid protested, “But you’re the only ones who…” She stopped abruptly, realizing her mistake.
Tao Ning, a faint smile playing on her lips, finished the sentence for her. “The only ones who survived, right?”
The maid’s face flushed, and the City Lord nodded, confirming Tao Ning’s words. “Other cultivators have come, answering our pleas… but none returned.”
Tao Ning: “So we’re not the first. But you haven’t been entirely truthful, City Lord.”
The City Lord: “What do you mean?”
Tao Ning glanced at the innkeeper, who was hovering near the doorway, eavesdropping. “They didn’t simply disappear. They died in Butterfly City.”
The expressions on their faces confirmed her words.
Tao Ning continued, “And they weren’t just wandering cultivators. You summoned them from other cities. As City Lord, your word carries weight. You wouldn’t have struggled to find help… until they started dying in your city.”
The City Lord’s face paled.
Hidden motives always lurked beneath the surface. Their motive was simple: to find someone capable of handling the current crisis, regardless of the outcome.
Success meant salvation. Failure meant… no one to blame.
Revealing too much would deter potential saviors. Who would willingly risk their lives?
Tao Ning’s voice softened. “My condolences, City Lord. I’m not trying to reopen old wounds, but I need to know everything about the demon’s lair. Tell me about the Meiyan. Tell me everything.”
The City Lord: “A Meiyan… so that’s what it is.”
She composed herself, her voice firm. “The Skin-Peeling… Meiyan appeared five years ago during the Fragrance Competition. The women of Butterfly City are skilled in the art of fragrance blending…”
Five years ago, during the lively Fragrance Competition, a woman had emerged victorious, merchants vying for contracts to sell her exquisite creations.
The City Lord’s son, then a young man, had challenged the veiled woman, demanding she reveal her face.
The woman, her figure graceful and elegant, smiled softly, removing her veil to reveal a face of breathtaking beauty.
The young man, still unconvinced, asked her name. She couldn’t simply leave with only a stage name.
Before she could answer, a scream echoed from the crowd. A man, his face pale with terror, pointed at the woman on stage. “I know you! You’re Helan Yi, the daughter of the Jade Merchant!”
Those around him, seeing his fear, laughed. “So you recognize her. Why are you so scared?”
The man, his eyes wide with horror, looked at the woman and her two attendants, his voice trembling. “But… she died three months ago! They said a ghost skinned her alive! And her two maids too!”
The supposedly deceased Helan Yi smiled at the young man, reaching out to touch his face. “I like your skin,” she purred.
The young man, confused, stammered, “What…?”
Then, everything happened so fast. The woman, wearing Helan Yi’s skin, grabbed the young man, her two seemingly harmless attendants seizing two other young members of the audience before vanishing.
“The Young Lord! He’s been taken by a demon!”
The sudden disappearance of several people caused panic. By the time the City Lord arrived, the stage was empty.
The City Lord wiped away a tear. “A year after Feng’er was taken, I saw her again. But… she wasn’t herself anymore. She was a monster wearing my daughter’s skin.”
The sight had been devastating.
The monster, wearing her daughter’s face, had attacked her, but not killed her, simply taunting her, saying, “You’re beautiful too, but… too old. But you’re still useful. You gave birth to a beautiful daughter, and a handsome son.”
Having already lost one child, the City Lord couldn’t bear to lose another, desperately trying to protect her remaining son, but her efforts were futile.
“My youngest son… he died on his sixteenth birthday, ten days ago.”
She closed her eyes, unable to bear the memory of the gruesome scene, the image of her son’s mutilated body seared into her mind.
Her grief and rage were useless against such a powerful foe. Seeking revenge would be suicide. And if she died, who would avenge her children?
The Meiyan only targeted Butterfly City, avoiding other cities, keeping its atrocities contained, ensuring the indifference of the outside world.
“The Meiyan leader is at least at Nascent Soul, with two Golden Core subordinates, and a dozen lesser demons. They reside in a cave outside the city.”
A Nascent Soul cultivator, in an area so far from the major sects, was practically invincible. No wonder the city’s inhabitants were so hesitant, their words carefully chosen.
They were desperate, clinging to any hope of salvation.
Retrieving a list from her sleeve, she continued, “In the past five years, the Meiyan has killed one hundred and fifty-one people in Butterfly City. Those with desirable appearances were skinned. They even killed our resident elders, three Golden Core cultivators.”
Cen Dianshuang took the list, scanning the names. Their ages and backgrounds varied, but they all shared one common trait: beauty.
Those deemed unsuitable for skinning had their hearts or Golden Cores extracted.
Leaving the mutilated bodies behind was a deliberate act of cruelty, tormenting the city’s inhabitants.
Even the brief descriptions couldn’t mask the horror of their deaths.
“The demons prevent anyone from leaving the city. Anyone who tries is killed. So no one dares leave. Not even outsiders. Butterfly City has become a trap.”
Cen Dianshuang frowned, flipping through the pages, then stopped, unable to read any further.
Xuan Ying, sensing her master’s distress, hummed softly. Cen Dianshuang’s hand tightened on the hilt, silencing it.
Tao Ning, glancing at the list, noticed a familiar name. “Hu Feng’er…?”
The City Lord’s eyes filled with tears. “My daughter’s name. She was fifteen.”
Tao Ning: “My condolences, City Lord.”
She suddenly remembered something. In the original storyline, after awakening his bloodline, the protagonist had eagerly taken his junior sister from Shuhan Peak on a training journey, claiming it was for her benefit.
On the road, a young master had taken a fancy to the junior sister, attempting to kidnap her. She had killed him, stealing his storage pouch and fleeing.
Killing the young master had, of course, attracted the attention of his family, leading to a relentless pursuit. Separated from his junior sister during the chaos, the protagonist, his cultivation still low, had fallen into a cave.
He had stumbled upon a lost inheritance, his cultivation soaring from early Foundation Establishment to peak Golden Core. Following a tunnel, he had inadvertently discovered the Meiyan’s lair.
Instead of killing him, the Meiyan leader, Hu Feng’er, had fallen in love with him. He learned from her that her mother was the City Lord of Butterfly City, and that she possessed a secret fragrance recipe that induced pleasant dreams and enhanced cultivation within those dreams.
Seeing his new lover’s sadness, he had decided to help her reunite with her family, returning to the city and, unable to convince the grieving City Lord, erasing her memories.
Thus, the long-lost daughter of Butterfly City, Hu Feng’er, returned, becoming City Lord three months later.
In the novel, this entire episode was merely a romantic interlude, a reward for the protagonist’s progress.
Later, he would find his junior sister again—he had to, or he wouldn’t be able to face the Sect Leader—and return to the sect.
Hu Feng’er and her… companions… were forgotten, never mentioned again.
Outside the city, a forest shrouded in a pink mist stretched for miles. Three years ago, it hadn’t had a name. The arrival of a group of demons had changed that.
The Pink Miasma Forest, as it was now known, was a place to be avoided. Its sweet, intoxicating mist lured unsuspecting victims deeper into its depths.
The nearby cities were too far away. Only the inhabitants of Butterfly City knew to avoid it.
A scholar, carrying a book bag, approached the forest, walking along the road.
Hearing music, he wondered who was celebrating, looking around for the source. A gentle breeze carried a sweet fragrance towards him, drawing him closer.
Unaware of the miasma’s effects, his mind already clouded by the intoxicating scent, he stumbled through the undergrowth, his eyes fixed on the beautiful figures dancing and singing by a river deep within the forest.
Each one was stunningly beautiful, their movements graceful, their laughter like music. A figure played a melody behind a screen, their shadowy form only adding to the allure.
Seated in the center, a woman in red, as beautiful as a celestial being, reclined languidly on a cushioned seat, surrounded by attendants.
She beckoned to him. “Come closer…”
The other figures echoed her invitation. “Come join us…”
The scholar, his mind enthralled, forgetting all his scholarly pursuits and tales of demons and ghosts, stepped forward, then suddenly felt a chill on his scalp.
A force pushed him back, his eyelids fluttering open. The scene before him shifted, and he gagged, the sweet scent turning acrid.
This wasn’t a celestial gathering, but a demonic feast.
The forest was now a dark, dank cave, the fragrant blossoms replaced by hanging corpses, the clear stream a river of blood, littered with body parts. The delicate jade plates held not fruits and pastries, but human hearts and entrails.
The sweet fragrance mingled with the stench of blood, making him nauseous.
The beautiful figures, their beauty now grotesque in the gruesome setting, huddled behind their leader.
The leader, adjusting her slipping robe, asked, “What do you want?”
A figure in white, descending from the sky, replied coldly, “Revenge.”
The leader: “Revenge for whom?”
Cen Dianshuang: “For myself.”
The leader, who had assumed it was revenge for the City Lord: …Her. She recognized the cold, sharp aura from the previous night.
Cen Dianshuang, drawing her sword, approached slowly. “Are you ready to die?”
The Meiyan leader, wearing Hu Feng’er’s skin, sneered. “You intend to face us all alone?”
Cen Dianshuang: “What’s so difficult about that?”
The terrified scholar turned to see another figure, a young woman in green, a sword hanging at her waist.
Tao Ning tossed him a bottle. “Take this and go back the way you came. You’ll be sick for half a month. Find a safe place to rest.”
The scholar, catching the bottle: “…” Realization dawned on him, and he fled, screaming.
Tao Ning placed a spiritual mark on him. He was an innocent bystander. Since Cen Dianshuang intended to save the city, she would also ensure his safety.
He was deeply traumatized, his illness likely accompanied by nightmares.
The clash of two Nascent Soul cultivators was earth-shattering. Cen Dianshuang intercepted the leader’s attacks, her sword a blur of motion, the cave filled with flying debris. The lesser demons, unable to escape, were caught in the crossfire, their bodies disintegrating under the sheer force of the spiritual energy.
The two Golden Core demons, initially intending to capture Tao Ning, seeing their leader struggling, joined the fight.
A sword cultivator’s power was formidable. After a brief exchange, one of the Meiyan, wearing the skin of a young man, perished, its soul scattered.
The other, sensing defeat, unleashed a cloud of pink mist, hoping to escape. A futile gesture. Death came swiftly.
The leader, her attempt at a sneak attack thwarted, retreated to recover, then began to sing.
Using music to manipulate a Music Cultivator was foolish. Cen Dianshuang, accustomed to multitasking, continued her assault with Xuan Ying, simultaneously playing a counter-melody on Yaoguang, dispelling the Meiyan’s sonic attack.
The leader, her own attack turned against her, clutched her head, the music like a blade twisting in her brain.
Tao Ning, facing the lesser demons, had an easier time, Cen Dianshuang having intercepted the main threat.
Cen Dianshuang’s strategy was simple: relentless offense was the best defense. The lesser demons were no match for her.
Tao Ning’s sword flashed, each strike precise and deadly, eliminating the remaining demons one by one.
One, wearing the skin of a child attendant from a Guanyin temple, its dying words a defiant, “…You’re not… Founda…”
Before it could finish, Tao Ning’s sword pierced its dantian, then, with a swift, fluid motion, she dispatched another attacker, dodging a third, their frustrated shrieks echoing through the cave.
They were heartless creatures, masquerading as humans, preying on the city’s inhabitants, treating them like livestock.
Tao Ning, having eliminated the remaining demons, cleaned her sword, then, following her memory, walked towards a sealed passage deep within the cave.
It hadn’t been opened yet, its entrance still hidden. She almost wished the protagonist would emerge from it, but timing was everything.
She turned away, heading deeper into the cave.
Cen Dianshuang, her fury unleashed, was intent on collapsing the entire cave.
Another wave of sword intent erupted, and the leader, impaled on Xuan Ying, was pinned against the wall, coughing up blood. Her fingers suddenly elongated, lashing out at Cen Dianshuang.
Cen Dianshuang dodged, withdrawing her sword.
The leader, her attack a feint, lunged at the remaining Golden Core Meiyan, ripping open its dantian with her claws.
Meiyan were resilient creatures, capable of surviving even without their Golden Cores, often sacrificing them like a lizard shedding its tail, reverting to their true forms to escape.
Holding the still-pulsating core, the leader declared, “You forced my hand.”
Tao Ning instantly recognized her intention. “Master! She’s using the Golden Core to activate the illusion formation!”
The leader laughed, her voice filled with triumph. “Too late!”
She slammed the Golden Core into the mouth of a nearby beast-shaped ornament, the focal point of the formation.
Once activated, the formation was inescapable. Both Tao Ning and Cen Dianshuang were engulfed in a swirling vortex of light.
Tao Ning’s vision went black. When she opened her eyes again, she was surrounded by a crowd of familiar faces.
Seeing her dazed expression, Jin Jiamu nudged her playfully, a wide smile on her face. “Why are you just standing there? Are you so overjoyed about finally marrying Elder Cen that you’ve lost your mind?”
Tao Ning: “Marrying?”
She touched her chin, tilting her head in confusion. “Me?”
Jin Jiamu, dressed in wedding attire, looked even more puzzled. “Who else? Did you think you were dreaming? You’ve been talking about pre-wedding jitters for days… No more jitters now.”
She gestured towards Tao Ning. “Look at you! So beautiful!”
Tao Ning looked down at herself. She was indeed wearing a wedding robe, its long sleeves and flowing design exquisitely crafted.
Surrounded by red, she felt her heart pounding, a youthful dream fulfilled, united with the master she admired.
Echoing Jin Jiamu’s words, she murmured, “I’m getting married. I’m marrying Master.”
The others laughed, teasing her about being so happy she had lost her mind.
Sect Leader Lizhu, a smile in her eyes, added, “Are you drunk?”
As if on cue, Tao Ning smelled the strong aroma of wine, her head spinning, her steps unsteady as she was led towards the bridal chamber.
Someone pushed her gently from behind, and she stumbled through the red-silk-draped doorway.
A figure in full wedding attire sat within, her face covered by a veil. Hearing the commotion, she lifted a corner of the veil, revealing shimmering eyes.
It was Cen Dianshuang, her lips curved into a soft smile.
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