Chapter 25: Only She May Harm Her Disciple

Wen Jinge paced anxiously near the opening, growing more unsettled the closer she drew to the mouth of the cave. “Hey! Are you there?” she called out. In her heart, she muttered to herself, yet “Nonexistent” still failed to appear. Wen Jinge glanced again at the hole in the ground—it remained, stubborn and unchanged.

“This can’t be right! I threw you all in, so it should have sealed up! Unless… there’s still something else nearby?” Wen Jinge grew frustrated. She shouted into the opening, “If you can hear me, say something!”

Only her own echo answered. The forest was so silent, not even a passing bird or beast disturbed the hush.

Wen Jinge squatted down and drew circles in the dirt, jotting down a few key points. Her deliberate scrawling rendered the characters nearly illegible:

Qiao Yu, now missing;
Demon Zither, in hand;
Scale, obtained one.

Left hand: Demon Zither; right hand: scale.
Qiao Yu is injured—how? She’s my apprentice, and before her full awakening, only I, the great villain, can hurt her!

“Nonexistent” is gone. Now no one can restrain me. Perfect—let’s see if Qiao Yu will really die by my hand.

The scale in her palm and the one Qiao Yu held had different properties, but both originated from the same source—they had shed from the body of the Holy Light Shattered Python.

Wen Jinge drew a formation, placing the scale at its center, surrounding it with stones representing different energies, just as she’d read in the library’s tomes.

This was a world of cultivation—none of this would have been possible in her former life.

But after experimenting for a long while, she saw no sign of magical power.

She said to the Demon Zither, “Demon Zither, can you smell it? I want to find another person carrying a scale. Once we find them, we’ll kill them.”

Outside the illusion, Song Huan was dumbstruck. “Isn’t this an unsolvable puzzle? Senior Sister, how did she figure it out? She actually found the way on her own.”

Everyone around him could only sigh helplessly. Fan Zifan pressed a hand to his empty chest, approaching Song Huan. “Want to make a bet?”

Best to trip up as many as possible. From now on, anyone who fancies Wen Jinge is fair game for Fan Zifan’s schemes!

“He already has—a thousand and ten, with my name down,” Ai Fengling said with a smile, fanning himself leisurely.

Fan Zifan, remembering the fan he’d left on the mountain, grew even more irritated. Fearing he’d cause trouble again, Huo Yongfei grabbed his hand to steady him. “Look at the sword in her hand. Is that the one?”

“Which one?” Fan Zifan snapped impatiently. What’s with all this fuss over swords? Sword cultivators are so dramatic. “I’m an alchemist, why would I care about swords?”

“That’s the one,” Shan Hongxing said excitedly. “Wasn’t it supposed to have been destroyed by Master? How is it appearing in the illusion…”

At those words, Shan Hongxing was startled and turned to Bai Teng. “You were there at the time too. I remember Master especially instructed you—he had you set a sealing talisman into the sword so it could never be unsealed, since it was too dangerous, even for Master to control.”

“Yes, I did,” Bai Teng replied, sorrow etching her beautiful face ever since she’d learned Wen Jinge had entered, and especially unsettled after discovering the likes of Jiang Zilin were there as well. “But Master handled the destruction afterward—I wasn’t involved.”

Wen Jinge had a peculiar trait, one Bai Teng had noticed early on: she loved excitement, and always managed to make a splash wherever she went. Bai Teng had once disliked this fifth junior sister, but over time, her annoyance turned into a bittersweet fondness. Now, all her hopes rested on Wen Jinge.

The restrictions over the illusion remained. Their cultivation was high, but breaking through would take time. For now, they could only wait anxiously outside. Yet Wen Jinge was inside, and had already sealed one dangerous area.

Indeed, there was more than one such place within the Boundless Illusion.

“Let’s check the other areas,” Bai Teng suggested, flipping through her recording stone. “If any disciples forfeit, those inside can bring out as many as they can. Junior Five’s memory is incomplete—she might not handle everything. If the others are left inside, they could be in danger.”

“What about those who didn’t forfeit willingly?” Shan Hongxing asked.

There was no fairness left in this illusion. Would all the effort and resources spent mean doing this all over again?

“Those eliminated, and those who forfeited, are settled. The rest—each peak can decide whom to take,” Huo Yongfei said wearily. The situation was beyond his control; all he could do was hope luck favored the remaining ones.

“She does know how to pick a fight,” Shan Hongxing snorted, tossing a pouch of spirit stones to Fan Zifan. “Second Brother, wish us some luck.”

“Who?” Fan Zifan’s eyes lit up. Last time he learned he was the subject of a bet, Shan Hongxing hadn’t looked kindly on him. Now, even the aloof beauty was tempted by such vulgar matters?

Though puzzled, Fan Zifan was pleased. “Who’s the bet on?”

“Wen Jinge’s disciple,” Shan Hongxing replied coolly.

Now that was interesting. The others glanced at him, some openly, some covertly. Shan Hongxing awkwardly touched his sword and went to stand by Lu Feiyu. “Let’s see where that ugly man is headed!”

The so-called ugly man, Wen Jinge herself, had no idea where she was going. The Demon Zither was in autopilot mode.

“Demon Zither, don’t tell me your sense of smell’s broken!” Wen Jinge soared high above, sitting backward to the wind. The wind even scraped off one of the moles on her face, which she now cradled with regret.

“My dear zither, look—it’s like the Amazon down there, the trees are so tall and thick. The entrance we came through, and the place where we destroyed the North Demon Bell’s soul fragment—none of this looks the same! Even with eight legs, he couldn’t have run that far!”

The Demon Zither suddenly halted, hovering motionless in the sky.

Wen Jinge instinctively gripped the sword hilt, looking for all the world like a little witch astride a flying broomstick. “I’m ready—go ahead!”

The Demon Zither pointed straight down and plunged. Wen Jinge watched the trees on either side streak past. The zither was considerate—she didn’t get scratched by a single branch. She simply found herself deposited in a tree, and the Demon Zither returned to her hand.

“Once my wife was my keyboard. Now, you’re my little wife—so sweet,” Wen Jinge said, hugging the Demon Zither and giving it a kiss. Just then, she saw her foolish apprentice ahead, brandishing a saber and charging at a possessed figure.

“What is Senior Sister doing?” Song Huan asked, seeing Wen Jinge in the illusion lift the Demon Zither sword, whisper to it, and rush toward Qiao Yu.

“Hmph,” Shan Hongxing sneered. He’d always said Wen Jinge was no good. She’d suppressed that disciple before; now, with her memory gone, she probably didn’t realize the jade token was the true key!

Bai Teng tensed, forming a seal in her sleeve. If Wen Jinge’s intentions proved questionable, the vision in the recording stone would vanish instantly.

“Stab!”

“Brother Song Qian!” Qiao Yu had been delighted to see Wen Jinge, but the sword was thrust straight toward her chest.