After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 28

Si Jing trembled all over, abruptly withdrawing her fingertip.

But Zhu Zhao was already slumped in her embrace, her body blazing hot. A quick glance revealed nothing but soft, snowy white.

The girl’s apricot eyes were full of moist mist. She twisted her waist, dampening the hem of Si Jing’s snow-white garment.

Yet, she seemed utterly oblivious to what she was doing. Cupping Si Jing’s face, she asked in a soft voice, “Are… are you shy?”

Burned by the breath wafting towards her, Si Jing looked away and gripped Zhu Zhao’s wrist.

The touch was like jade-fat about to melt in her palm—the wrist bone delicately prominent and fine, making her reluctant to let go.

Before, she had barely paid attention to such things.

Being within the Sea of Consciousness (the spiritual mind), every tiny movement was magnified.

Or perhaps her formerly dull senses, blunted by her lack of desire, were slowly reviving with the little fish’s invasion.

The mirror-like surface of her Sea of Consciousness, which had been without a single ripple, now subtly trembled. Si Jing placed a hand on her chest.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. The unfamiliar sensation of a pounding heart.

Suddenly, her fingertip grew wet, enveloped by something warm and soft.

She looked down. Zhu Zhao’s eyelashes were wet; she had enclosed Si Jing’s fingertip in her mouth.

It was exactly what the little fish did to her when she put her hand into the water tank.

But done in human form, it gained a hint of blurred, ambiguous sensuality.

The little fish’s bite never truly hurt. Zhu Zhao extended the tip of her teeth, lightly catching the ball of Si Jing’s finger, then, as if afraid of hurting her, she compensated by gently licking it with her tongue.

Apparently annoyed by Si Jing’s lack of reaction, she released the finger, now glistening with moisture, and instead worried the rumpled collar of Si Jing’s clothes, trying to pull away the neatly dressed attire.

“So cold…” She burrowed into the woman’s neck, seeking warmth, “Zhi Zhi, hold me.”

With a push of her hands, Zhu Zhao was pressed onto the mirror-like surface of the Sea of Consciousness.

Her back directly touched the lake surface, which felt as if it were congealed ice and snow. She shivered from the cold, and a reactive flush of pink immediately spread across her eye-corners.

She had caught a chill while washing her tail in the cold pool on the mountain peak. Now, she only felt dizzy and her cheeks were hot.

Yet, the other person’s warm breath landed on her cheek.

Si Jing’s peach blossom eyes were clear, but the never-before-tasted abyss of carnal desire tugged her down.

She pecked Zhu Zhao’s cheek lightly, then tilted her head and asked, “Is this right?”

The little fish seemed uncomfortable, constantly untying her clothes, wanting to press closer.

She didn’t know… how to proceed.

Zhu Zhao let out a low groan, still unsatisfied. She looped her arms around the woman’s neck, bit her soft lip, and corrected her in a soft voice, “No, it’s like this.”

Yet, last night… she had been very skilled.

The next second, Si Jing moved from her cheek and enveloped her lips.

There was no biting, only dense, tiny pecks.

The woman understood the basics after just one example, and then proceeded by inference, extending the action. Zhu Zhao was kissed until her tail softened, and her vision was filled with mist.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back any sound, but she felt that soft petal-like mouth, which seemed dipped in water, slowly extending to an area far away, an area where she didn’t know what was happening.

Si Jing wiped the moisture from her lips, heard the girl’s soft whimpering, and felt lost and helpless.

Zhu Zhao curled up, her shoulders stained pink. She clutched Si Jing’s sleeve. The ice-cold at her back and the burning heat in front made her uncomfortable. “Cold, Ah’chu is cold…”

The wives in her cave never failed to be this unaccommodating. Only this beauty before her, beautiful enough to eat, was like a block of wood.

A bundle of snowy white robes wrapped around her, scooping her into an embrace.

Zhu Zhao was lifted from the icy surface of the Sea of Consciousness into the woman’s arms. Her back was now soft and warm, and a clear, crisp scent enveloped her.

However, through the mirror-like icy surface, she saw her own appearance at that moment.

Her body was covered in shades of red, light and deep, highlighting the shallow mole beneath her collarbone. She was stark naked, yet the person behind her had only slightly disheveled clothing, still mostly neat and pristine.

…It was unfair.

Zhu Zhao felt a little wronged and reached out to untie the woman’s clothes. She thought the other’s clothes must be much prettier than hers.

Her hands were suddenly restrained, unable to move.

Si Jing’s chin rested in the crook of her neck. Her actions were still unfamiliar, yet following the scenes reflected in the mirror, they gained a certain twist and tease that made her utterly unable to resist.

The woman seemed unaware that she herself was caught up in the surge of passion. Her voice was slightly warmer as she inquired right next to Zhu Zhao’s ear, “Why… are you trembling?”

Zhu Zhao was unable to speak.

No spiritual bell rang out within the Sea of Consciousness, yet the scene reflected in the mirror caused her waist to suddenly tense and soften, and she let out a choked sob.

The person behind her followed suit, her breathing suddenly becoming rapid.

Due to years of practicing the sword and meditating, Si Jing’s back remained straight, yet her shoulders trembled uncontrollably. Her hair was slightly damp, concealing the moisture in her eyes.

She recalled the identical sensation of trembling from the early morning.

Looking down, Zhu Zhao lay nestled in her arms like a piece of soft jade.

Her eyelashes drooped, appearing utterly exhausted. Her delicate appearance carried a hint of grievance, yet she was completely defenseless, falling asleep in her arms out of weariness.

Before long, the girl rapidly transformed into her original form.

Due to exhaustion, her demon consciousness gradually dissipated. A small red fish, the size of a palm, slowly disappeared from Si Jing’s palm, leaving the Sea of Consciousness and returning to reality.

The surroundings returned to dead silence.

With the retreat of pleasure, her five senses blurred. No emotion could stir a ripple in her chest.

Si Jing’s fingertip rested on her chest. She looked down, remaining silent.

That unfamiliar, almost uncontrollable throbbing she had just felt had now vanished completely.

When the little red fish came, it granted her a heartbeat indistinguishable from a normal person’s.

After it left, it left nothing behind.

Si Jing clenched her fingers.

A deeply inappropriate thought suddenly arose in her mind.

If she could keep the little fish locked in this Sea of Consciousness forever, that would be good.

Thinking this, she was abruptly jolted awake. She pressed her lips until they were white, silently reciting the Heart-Cleansing Incantation several times.

How could she… think like that?

When Zhu Zhao woke up, she was still in the sword case, though it was now padded with a soft, clean white undergarment that carried a fresh scent.

She was utterly exhausted, having reverted to her original form at some unknown point. The tender, milky-white scales on her belly ached unbearably.

Looking around, Si Jing was gone.

Clutching the edge of the sword case and peering out, the room’s arrangement was as before, but the sky outside the window was already bright.

From catching a chill in the cold pool yesterday to falling into that vast, icy lake within the sword case, she had actually slept until dawn.

Zhu Zhao was terribly thirsty. She managed to leap out of the sword case and jumped into the teacup Si Jing used for water, swimming a few laps inside.

The beauty had simply left.

She felt a little frustrated.

In her cave, it was always her wives who dressed her up after she woke up. Not only did Si Jing fail to speak to her gently, but she actually left her all alone.

But when she thought about what happened last night…

A gurgle sounded in the teacup. The little fish quickly swam to the bottom, her round eyes filled with shyness.

She was a little confused. Why was Si Jing so gentle last night, though clumsy, with a voice unlike its usual cold tone?

It was very different from the way she usually seemed in her nightmares, where she was like a dog demon, biting her neck without restraint.

Which one was the real beauty?

Confused and unable to figure it out, Zhu Zhao decided to try circulating her demon power

Unexpectedly, her cultivation flowed smoothly, without any stagnation. In the blink of an eye, she transformed into her human form.

She touched her lower abdomen, which felt somewhat bloated.

Could it be… she had little fish?

Anxiously probing with a wisp of demon power, Zhu Zhao didn’t find any little fish, but she discovered a damp, cool, soft mass solidified within her Sea of Consciousness.

It was crimson-red, like a Demon Core

She had broken through!

Zhu Zhao was both surprised and delighted, hopping down from the table.

She rubbed and kneaded the object, which was condensed from her pure demon power, over her belly, utterly fond of it.

She’d heard that demons with a Demon Core could fight cultivators at the Golden Core stage She was indeed naturally gifted, a standout among the demons of the Barren Mountains!

The current immortal cultivators on this Fish-Mule Peak mostly lingered at the Qi Refinement stage, and even those who had reached Foundation Establishment were rare. They were no match for her.

Zhu Zhao hummed a tune, her gaze drifting toward the window.

She felt the urge to try her skills now. She wondered where she could catch some lost children to practice on.

Then, she saw an indigo-blue streak of light fly across the sky, seemingly heading towards the Sword Forging Cliff at the summit.

She pushed open the window. Amidst the circles of white mist, the peak was bustling with people.

Were they roasting lotus?

Zhu Zhao suddenly remembered that yesterday, she had apparently promised a few children who worshipped her that she would help them pass the sword trial smoothly.

Might as well do it now.

She dressed enthusiastically and pushed open the door.

As she stepped out, she felt a slight ache in her lower back and legs, causing her to let out a low groan.

Shamefully rubbing her waist, she had never known that dual cultivation was such an exhausting activity.

But she was a Great Demon how could she ever be the one suppressed by her wife? Next time, she would definitely make the beauty more tired than her!

On the Sword Forging Cliff within the Cloud Water Pavilion. The spring dust was bright, and clouds rolled and unfurled.

The sword trial had begun. Disciples gathered to draw lots for their opponents in the upcoming duels.

There were currently only sixteen people in the sect, forming eight pairs. The trial ranked them based on the outcome of their duels.

The first-place winner could choose a magical artifact, elixir, or secret manual. For the unfortunate one who came in last, the old rule still applied: over a hundred punishment swords.

However, this time, someone had informed Si Jing to add an extra punishment: cleaning the sect’s mess hall for a month.

To avoid the humiliation of humbly wiping the floor while their peers ate, the disciples were eager to participate, unwilling to be last.

A’Qing held the lot container in her beak. As a disciple approached and patted her head, she shook her pigeon head, and one name slip dropped out.

Tao Miao stood nearby, tilting her head to read the name. “Chirp! Cen Lingwei versus—Xiao Wan

“Oh, no,” Cen Lingwei trembled, turning towards Xiao Wan.

She was a talisman practitioner; did she really have to duel a sword cultivator?

Xiao Wan curved her eyes, signaling that she needn’t worry.

Cen Lingwei’s legs shook even more. She shuffled over to Nie to wait.

But the girl winked at her and whispered in her ear, “Don’t be afraid. The Carp Fairy has your back.”

Cen Lingwei sighed, shaking her head.

She knew her own limits; she probably couldn’t last even half a quarter-hour against Xiao Wan.

As she was feeling down, a sound of slicing the clouds and breaking the wind arrived. A streak of indigo-blue light soared over the disciples’ heads.

It landed beside Si Jing, who was quietly wiping her sword not far away.

“Master,” she sheathed her sword and bowed to the newcomer.

Shen Susu widened her eyes and poked Yuan Ling beside her. “Wow, Master’s color—I mean, the shade—really matches A’Qing’s!”

Su Xue was wearing a deep indigo-blue Daoist robe with flowing cloud patterns today. To be neat, she had tied up her hair with a hairpin, but she didn’t seem to have looked in a mirror, as a few strands were loosely hanging down.

She withdrew her sword, her hand instinctively reaching for the wooden wine gourd at her waist, but met the calm gaze of Si Jing.

Looking down again, the surrounding disciples were already staring at her with curiosity or yearning.

“Is that Master?”

“Master!”

Su Xue gave a sheepish smile, pulled back her hand, pretended nothing had happened, and nodded towards the crowd below the stage.

Then she quietly asked, “Yingzhi, I can sit here, right?”

“As Master pleases,” Si Jing replied, his voice slightly softer.

“If needed, I will go down to the stage to give guidance, no need to trouble Master.”

Yingzhi is really the best.

Su Xue leaned lazily into the wicker seat, stole a sip of wine when no one was looking, and narrowed her eyes in satisfaction.

After the drawing of lots concluded, Si Jing took the roster for this sword trial from the beak of the ‘A Qing’ bird that flew in with fluttering wings.

He lightly shook the ‘Gui Ning Bell’ by his hand, signaling for silence below the stage.

The sword trial began.

The two disciples for the first match were already positioned on the left and right sides of Forging Sword Cliff; the left was Xiao Wan, and the right was Cen Lingwei.

Xiao Wan had no complicated ornaments around her, simply holding her sword, her expression composed. While Cen Lingwei was stuffing a large stack of talismans into her lapel, busy classifying them.

“Susu, w-who do you bet on?” Yuan Ling looked at Shen Susu.

The two exchanged a look and said in unison, “Xiao Wan.”

“Xiao Wan, huh.”

Cen Lingwei turned back and looked at her two mocking peers with resentment, “I heard you, I heard you with both my ears.”

Yuan Ling covered her mouth, her delicate eyes twinkling, feeling a little apologetic.

‘Tao Miao’ fluttered its bright yellow wings, the small, fluffy bird ball chirping crisply between the two of them, as if counting down.

As the final, more urgent “chirp” fell, the sword in Xiao Wan’s hand left its sheath with a clang.

Her movement technique was extremely agile, incorporating some tricky footwork not taught in the sect. Like feet touching floating duckweed, she reached Cen Lingwei in just two breaths.

The sword body was wrapped in a pale green spiritual power fluctuation. She lightly closed her eyes and swept out a slightly slower sword wind.

She intended to hold back, waiting for Cen Lingwei to draw her sword.

But the next moment, her wrist suddenly went weak and sore.

With a soft clang, her sword was actually knocked to the ground by the person in front of her, kicking up snow dust.

Xiao Wan’s heart tightened, and she suddenly opened her eyes.

She met Cen Lingwei’s eyes, which were right in front of her.

Light as pink jade, bright as the first rays of dawn, carrying an unusual, slightly demonic haughtiness.

“Xiao Wan…?” Cen Lingwei’s posture holding the sword was loose, and she tilted her head at her in confusion, seeming unfamiliar with the pronunciation of her name when she spoke.

“Were you… asleep just now?”

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