Chapter 27: I Wish He Were Dead

Wen Jin’ge pulled the sword from her abdomen; though it looked terrifying, the Demon Harp had been obedient, turning intangible as it entered, causing her no harm.

“Master… Master…” Qiao Yu still held a rabbit leg in his hand. Upon seeing Wen Jin’ge sitting on the ground, a true man who rarely shed tears, he tossed all composure aside and rushed straight into her arms. “Master, why… why are you here?”

Wen Jin’ge: …

This was the closest she’d ever come to utter social disgrace.

“Master, you’re worried about me, aren’t you?”

Numbly, Wen Jin’ge let Qiao Yu embrace and shake her. She couldn’t quite grasp how the situation had unfolded. How had her assassination attempt turned into a rescue?

“What kind of world is this!”

Don’t panic, she told herself. When faced with trouble, don’t panic; breathe first.

She took a deep breath and pushed Qiao Yu away. “You’re filthy!”

“But, Master, you’re filthy too!”

Wen Jin’ge’s face was covered in peeling dead skin, not entirely shed, making her look rather unsightly. Her clothes were already a black robe, so any dirt was hardly visible.

Qiao Yu gazed at Wen Jin’ge with longing. If not for her timely intervention, he might truly have died. His master, who always carried herself with aloof pride, was now just as disheveled as he was— all for his sake!

He couldn’t understand why, though his master clearly cared for him, she always pushed him away.

“Master, do you dislike your disciple?” he asked, hoping for comfort.

“Yes! I don’t like you at all! You can’t do anything right!” Wen Jin’ge snapped, picking up the rabbit leg from the ground and biting into it fiercely. “Pfah! You brought it to me before it was cooked!”

Qiao Yu looked at the rabbit leg thrust into his hand, then at Wen Jin’ge’s furious retreating figure, feeling dejected. “Where did I go wrong?”

“Senior, didn’t you say you haven’t obtained a single demon core yet?” A small clay figure emerged from the shadows beneath the trees. “Isn’t Master angry about that?”

“Is that so?” Qiao Yu frowned. He wanted to slay monsters, but his strength was so lacking.

“I think so,” Wang Xi replied, smacking her lips. She had to admit, Qiao Yu’s roasting skills were superb. “Can I eat the rabbit leg?”

“Here.” Sorrow filled his eyes. He thought his master would rejoice at his advancement to the eighth rank, but perhaps the senior brother’s words— that she didn’t care for empty titles— were just meant to comfort him. She did care, after all!

The black-robed figure, the mysterious stranger, Song Ren, Song Qian— all were Master, one and the same.

When she was Song Ren, she gave him a dagger, telling him to end his life if he could no longer bear it.

As Song Qian, she handed him a ring full of spiritual stones, told him to be quiet, and buy whatever he wished.

What did Master truly mean?

He couldn’t fathom her, whether she was cold and aloof, spirited and sword-wielding, ruthless in battle, or now, after her fall from grace, irritable and vexed… His master seemed to have many faces, but he understood none.

Unknowingly, he reached a pond, his feet sinking into the water.

Step by step, he moved forward, downward. Startled, he found his feet moving uncontrollably, unable to call out— his throat producing no sound.

“Where’s that foolish boy gone?” Wen Jin’ge folded her arms, leaning against a tree trunk, the Demon Harp Sword at her feet and Jiang Zilin’s corpse beside her.

“Senior gave me the rabbit leg,” Wang Xi said sheepishly, gnawing at the bone. Seeing Wen Jin’ge hadn’t scolded her, she smiled shyly. “Senior must have gone to seize a demon core. He thinks Master dislikes him because of that.”

“Foolish!” Wen Jin’ge flicked her sleeve and scrutinized Wang Xi’s face— both equally muddied. “What’s with the mud on your face?”

“When Jiang Zilin tried to kill me, I hid in the pond.”

“You knew he was demonized?”

“I saw him talking to the trees. Fearing my aura would be detected, I hid in the mud. But I couldn’t hold my breath, so my jade token was removed. Only after it shattered could I be teleported out. He muttered about not making a scene, so I took the chance and escaped.”

“You kept watching me before— you recognize me?”

“I’ve, I’ve seen your portrait,” she replied with a mischievous smile. “If Senior Qiao Yu is in trouble, Immortal Wen would surely come to his rescue, right?”

“Come here.” Wen Jin’ge picked up the Demon Harp and placed it on her lap, beckoning her. “Bring the bow.”

“Immortal Wen is interested in archery?”

“Not exactly,” Wen Jin’ge said, examining the bow and the patterns on the arrow. She now had a rough idea of this girl’s origins. “Have you decided which peak to join?”

“Not yet. It depends on the sect’s arrangement.”

“My Ten Thousand Fathoms Peak still lacks a little junior sister— would you like to join?”

“Why would Immortal Wen…”

“The Vine grows with the moon, the fire rises within the moon, among the Thousand Swallow Clan, skilled in metalwork, possesses spiritual ore, has wealth.”

“Wen Fifth, I knew you were greedy. You’re so lazy— how could you possibly take the initiative to accept a disciple?” Fan Zifan tapped Wen Jin’ge’s head through the mirror. Wen Jin’ge suddenly stood up, nearly scaring Fan Zifan off his bed.

White Vine, arriving just then, caught the scene. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t watch anymore? Why are you looking again? Thousand Swallow— why does that name sound familiar?”

“My Medicine Mountain,” Fan Zifan grumbled. “She sold it off for a pittance, and the buyer was the Thousand Swallow Clan. That was a century ago.”

“The plague? Here to repay a debt of gratitude?”

“Keep watching!” Fan Zifan wiped sweat from his brow, uneasy. He felt as though Wen Jin’ge in the mirror was staring right at him.

“Do you ever get the feeling,” Wen Jin’ge said, staring at the still-bewildered Wang Xi, “that someone is watching us?”

“No.”

Wen Jin’ge’s heart sank. She had set up an array in the cave, and the cave still appeared in the shadow stone, meaning there were more demons within this illusion. Qiao Yu, already prey for the demons, now alone and mentally unstable, was almost certainly in danger. Coupled with her current sense of being watched, the demon was likely nearby.

“Follow me!”

“Master!” Wang Xi called after Wen Jin’ge. “Senior isn’t over there, he went to the pond— I saw him.”

Wen Jin’ge smacked her on the forehead, shoved Jiang Zilin’s corpse into her storage pouch, grabbed the sword in one hand and Wang Xi in the other, heading toward the pond. “If you want to play tricks, do it among the outer disciples, not in front of me. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Yes, disciple— I know my mistake.”

“If your senior brother comes to harm, I don’t care if you seek me, or anyone else, I’ll wipe out your clan. Do you understand?”

“Yes, understood.” Once Wen Jin’ge looked away, Wang Xi finally dared to smile, playfully saying, “Master does care for Senior Brother, doesn’t she?”

“I wish he’d die!” Wen Jin’ge shot her a glare. “But only by my hand.”