Chapter 95: Truly a Headache

"Hmm?" Wen Jinge paused in surprise. "Ling Yi, have you fallen asleep?"

"No," Ling Yi shook his head, listening closely for a moment. "Master, can you still hear anything?"

"Tell me, did you see something else?"

"I did. I saw Senior Brother Yang... dead."

Ling Yi's tone was calm, and even as Wen Jinge pressed close to him, she could not sense his heartbeat.

It seemed this child had witnessed death many times before.

"Was it by my hand?" Wen Jinge laughed softly.

That laugh, if illuminated and magnified, would appear somewhat eerie. It was as if she were mocking, teasing, or perhaps even thrilled—a secret danger shrouded her whole being, like a deranged murderer in a drama who delights in tormenting their victims.

The demonic zither whispered, as if sensing her shifting mood, deliberately echoing her.

"No."

The smile fell from Wen Jinge's face, drooping like the sagging cheeks of a three-hundred-pound person who had lost weight; she was suddenly less cheerful.

"Then who was it?"

"I couldn't see whose sword it was. He died here in this cave." Ling Yi clung tightly to her neck, as if terrified of something, making it hard for Wen Jinge to breathe.

"Are you trying to murder your master?"

"No." Ling Yi shook his head, sniffing. "Master, if I tell you what I smell, will you believe me?"

"That depends on what you smell!"

"Master, could you throw away the Demon-Sealing Chain and the Binding Rope from your waist?"

"Why?"

"Just throw them away."

Wen Jinge could hear the tension in his voice, but she still could not sense his heartbeat.

She felt that among all masters in the world, she was certainly the most responsible. A child said something so vague and intangible, and she obeyed without a second thought, not even caring whether Yang Wenan followed behind her or whether throwing the ropes might endanger him.

"And then?"

"Forward. Keep moving forward. Don’t stop."

Wen Jinge caught the scent of blood, falling upon her shoulder. Ling Yi’s lips brushed against the skin of her neck—blood must be seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"Once we’re out, I’ll discuss this with your Grandmaster. You haven’t yet reached rank, and using this ability too often will harm your body."

He paused, then nodded. "Alright. Thank you, Master."

"No need for thanks. I am your master; you don’t need to be so polite."

"...Mm."

Wen Jinge walked a distance. The sound of the Demon-Sealing Chain should have faded, yet it still hissed as if someone were tugging it from behind.

This place grew stranger by the moment. If she were alone, she would have dared to bring ruin to the heavens and earth, but now she had a child with her.

If he were an ordinary child, it wouldn’t matter, but he was her disciple. She couldn’t say why, but she truly wanted to gather her proper disciples together, and it wouldn’t do to frighten him.

"Master, I don’t think—I don’t think we can keep going."

"Why?"

"There’s someone—someone blowing on my neck." Ling Yi shivered, "It’s cold, Master."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is."

"Then let me ask you one more thing. Is it a demon, a spirit, or a mystic master here?"

Ling Yi was silent for a moment. He felt himself seated, held by his master, and in his mind he asked himself again and again what kind of place this was.

"It seems... it seems all of them."

"All of them?"

"Yes, and... there are people, too." After saying this, he found it strange.

This was just a cave. It was normal for evil spirits and demons to be here, but how could there be people?

"Ah, then we shall not go further." She lay down, and Ling Yi kept his arms around her, unable to explain why, but her presence always brought him peace.

"Are you scared?"

"...A little."

The cave was filled with rustling sounds, as though the Demon-Sealing Chain was searching for its master, though that was certainly not the case.

"A Cai, you would like it here, wouldn’t you?"

A Cai did not respond, but the demonic zither did.

A dim purple glow flickered in the cave. Wen Jinge closed her eyes, then after a while asked, "Is someone still blowing on your neck?"

"No, but... someone is grabbing my leg."

"Hmm?"

"It tickles."

Wen Jinge was about to sit up, but Ling Yi held her down. "Master, are we lying atop your coffin right now?"

The question was startling at first.

It was as if Wen Jinge had died, been buried, and then risen from the dead.

"Yes. The one called A Cai is my good friend. Remember to address her as Young Master from now on."

"Then, the one grabbing my foot must be Young Master." Ling Yi muttered, "She’s closed the lid. Even if you sit up, you won’t see her."

Wen Jinge cleared her throat and lay back down. "I’m simply curious about Young Master’s gender."

"Wasn’t Young Master put inside by you, Master?"

"Me?"

"Yes!" Ling Yi nodded.

Ever since he began sleeping beside his master, his dreams were filled with countless versions of her, each with a different manner and style. The most frightening was the one who stood like a god of slaughter atop a pile of bones.

In that moment, her eyes held not a shred of excess emotion; even heaven and earth lost their color before her. If she wished, she could tear the sky asunder.

The most heartbreaking scene was his master lying on the ground, condemned by thousands. In her eyes he saw betrayal and deceit. When her head fell, she gazed skyward, her eyes filled with hatred.

In those visions, his master always looked upon the heavens with disdain.

He liked that solitary master, but loved even more the present, mischievous elder.

Approachable, admirable, lovable.

With blood, with flesh, with soul.

He wanted to follow her shadow downward.

"How did you put her inside?"

"I couldn’t see clearly. She was simply placed inside and the lid closed."

"Is that so?" Wen Jinge sighed, asking nothing more.

But her mind raced: if she had put Young Master inside, it couldn’t possibly have been herself, could it?

It was truly a headache.

"Yes, Master. Grandmaster and the others are here too. We haven’t taken a wrong turn."

"Then why can’t we see them?"

"Maybe... the height is different?" Ling Yi murmured, "I feel like they’re right here, but... but I can’t see them."

"Don’t you usually see only the future? Now you can smell, too?" Wen Jinge teased, pinching his nose. "Stop overthinking. Your master will rest for a bit, then go look for them."

"Senior Brother!" Wang Xi slapped Liang Si's arm, showing him her bracelet. "Look! This one represents Senior Brother Yang. Is—is he in trouble? Surely Master and the others are alright!"

"Master..." Liang Si wanted to say Wen Jinge would be fine, but suddenly remembered their master now appeared as just an ordinary person.

If she used her cultivation again, who knew if she could control the mystic energy that always threatened to spill forth.