After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 36

Su Xue didn’t hear Si Jing’s reply for a long time.

She turned to look, and Si Jing’s eyelashes were faintly trembling, her mind lost in thought.

The heart’s wish and the inner demon are essentially one, and Su Xue knew she had been a bit too hasty. She closed the small, open window, isolating the cold wind from the peaks, and walked closer.

The room, illuminated by the stove fire, immediately felt much warmer.

“If you have knots in your heart, why not draw a lot from your Master’s divination cylinder?” Su Xue reached for a tube of divination sticks, shook it in front of her, and said with a relaxed demeanor and a smile.

“Bet’s made, hand’s off, follow the fortune.”

Si Jing’s eyes were fixed, and she quietly called out, “…Master.”

Among the few memories she still retained, one scene involved this very divination cylinder.

In the first few years after she ascended Green Peak, she didn’t know the meaning of her apprenticeship and cultivation.

She was a person who had lost her past, constantly forgetting, and therefore couldn’t see the long road ahead.

She could only numbly swing her sword, draw talismans, and set up formations like a walking corpse, filling the repetitive, empty days.

Yet, there was always a figure in a green robe who, whenever she felt lost and uncertain, would approach her with a divination cylinder and a smile.

“The Yu Hexagram,” Su Xue said, holding one of the sticks Si Jing had shaken out, stroking her chin in a calm, experienced manner.

“Mhm, today is suitable for rest, follow the seasons of Heaven and do nothing.”

So that day, she would take her away from the dreary practice, leave the peak, enter the secular world, travel until the water ran out, and sit to watch the clouds rise.

As her cultivation deepened, Si Jing gradually understood some of the true meanings of the hexagrams. But even if she drew an extremely ominous stick, Su Xue would lightly dismiss and reinterpret it in a few words.

In the end, she would still be taken down the mountain for a journey to the mortal world to relax.

She sat with her hands down, quietly watching Su Xue eat heartily without any pretense—a roasted duck in her left hand and a rabbit leg in her right, her fingertips visibly greasy.

All because the day’s fortune was interpreted by the woman as, “Suitable for eating delicacies.”

But it was precisely these fragments that unintentionally filled her void of a past. If she was lost, she only needed to shake the divination cylinder to know where to go.

Si Jing hadn’t touched Su Xue’s divination cylinder in a long time, and her movements were slightly awkward as she shook it.

A stick slid out onto her lap.

She picked it up and looked closely; it was still the Thunder-Earth Yu Hexagram

Conforming to the way of Heaven, orderly change and progression.

Su Xue glanced at the Yu Hexagram and put on an expression that said, “Of course, it is so.”

“The Way of Heaven is non-active; rest content with the time and place.” She casually removed her outer robe, which smelled heavily of wine, and lay back on the couch, smiling at Si Jing with a lazy, tired tone, “The hexagram has given guidance, Yingzhi, do you understand now?”

“But, Master.” Si Jing got up and took a step forward.

Her Master still hadn’t passed judgment on her.

She had always cultivated the Path of Emotionlessness (Wuqin Dao), but now she found it difficult to curb her distracting thoughts, her mind in turmoil, which led her to commit this great error today.

Was this also the so-called guidance of the Way of Heaven and the hexagrams?

Just as she was about to ask, she heard a faint breath, accompanied by a smacking sound.

She looked down to see Su Xue’s eyelids drooping; she had already fallen asleep.

“…” Si Jing remained silent for a long time.

She placed the wooden stick down, lightened her movements, covered the woman with the thin blanket, and stood by, hands clasped down.

She respectfully guarded her for a while before quietly leaving.

The slender, ethereal figure departed on her sword, gradually disappearing even from view through the paper window.

Su Xue opened one eye.

After a long time, she sat up again.

Hugging the blanket, she peeked around, confirmed Si Jing had truly left, and let out a sigh of relief.

She felt a little guilty recalling the nonsense she had just spouted.

Fortunately, she had the divination cylinder she usually used to cheer herself up, so she just used it to appease Yingzhi.

The stove fire made her drowsy. Bored, Su Xue shook the sticks.

Wow, the Qian Hexagram  great fortune, great fortune.

She shook out another one.

The Yu Hexagram moderate fortune, also not bad.

Feeling somewhat uninteresting, Su Xue tossed the divination cylinder aside.

She always used the Questioning the Dao Formation (Wen Dao Zhen) for serious divination; only children and her superstitious Junior Sister would believe in this rigged cylinder.

Remembering something, Su Xue retrieved a small cinnabar bowl.

It was rare to see Yingzhi look so lost, bewildered, and mentally unstable. Since she was free now, she might as well seriously consult the Dao for her.

She became serious, moistened her fingertip, dipped it in ink, and began sketching on the table. A small Questioning the Dao Formation slowly took shape.

She closed her eyes, injected a trace of pure spiritual power, and silently consulted the Dao in her heart.

A few moments later, Su Xue’s brow furrowed abruptly, perhaps at what she saw.

What appeared before her was not a clear scene, but a surging, clamorous mist of blood.

Si Jing’s location was unclear, her figure was frail, fresh blood flowed down the tip of her sword, and her snow-white robe was already soaked through, showing a dark crimson color.

Her expression was cold and detached. She reached out and extracted a damp demon core from the chest of a maiden in a crimson skirt, examining it with lowered eyes.

She tightened her fingers, mercilessly crushing it into powder.

Su Xue withdrew from the illusion of the Questioning the Dao Formation, her face solemn.

She bit her fingertip, using her own essence blood as a substitute for cinnabar, and divined again. The result was still similar.

Using essence blood in divination causes significant depletion.

She wiped the formation away, closed her eyes tiredly, and sighed quietly: “…Wasn’t she double-cultivating just today?”

Times change, and the past has scattered like smoke, yet why is she still unable to escape the absurd Way of Heaven and the cycle of the world?

The bedroom was quiet and pitch black. After Chu Zhao woke up, it was as if she had fallen into thick ink.

In the daytime, she was playing in the forest stream with Si Jing. She was simply tired from double cultivation, and she truly couldn’t hold on, so she slept in the beauty’s arms.

She never expected to wake up and be locked in the narrow water jar she disliked again!

Chu Zhao was anxious and restless, bumping her head against the porcelain jar wall, feeling utterly empty.

She had laid many small fish eggs. If she didn’t build a nest in time, the little fish would die in the cold water.

Upon this thought, another wave of heat coursed through her body.

The red fish in the jar uncontrollably spat out many bubbles, which floated on the water’s surface, piling up into a dense, soft, nesting cavern for the little fish to hatch in.

Chu Zhao frantically bumped the jar while trying to build the nest. Suddenly, the lamp on the table was lit by a talisman, startling her.

The scales all over her body trembled slightly, and she forcefully flicked her tail, leaping out of the water jar in a panic response.

She was utterly despairing, thinking she was about to hit her face. She hurriedly covered her head with her cloud fins, only to fall into a soft palm.

Chu Zhao looked up quietly and met Si Jing’s clear, bright eyes.

“Why are you bumping the jar? And spitting out white froth…” The woman gently brushed aside her messy fins with her fingertip, pondering for a moment, “Are you hungry again?”

The little red fish pecked at the gaps between the fingers in annoyance, “No! It’s for the little fish, I need to make a house for the little fish!”

How could there be such an inconsiderate beauty? Even those uncouth, clumsy demons on the desolate mountain weren’t so irresponsible.

Chu Zhao was sullen and didn’t want to look at Si Jing. She leapt back into the water jar and busied herself, flicking her tail.

Light shimmered and danced in the water, spreading circles of ripples.

Si Jing wiped the water marks off her palm, thinking that the red fish seemed to have grown a bit these past few days, and its belly was soft and moist. Yet, when curled up in her hand, she could still trap it by closing her palm; it was still just a little fish.

Yes, that’s correct. The text implies that the “little fish” refers to Chu Zhao herself. The narrative suggests that as an aquatic/fish demon, she instinctively associates reproduction and building a nest (spitting bubbles) with double cultivation. Her belief that “she and her lady will have many little fish” if they double-cultivate every hour is a literal interpretation of the process based on her demonic nature, where the “little fish” are her own offspring.

Thinking about whether she should get a slightly larger jar, Si Jing looked down at Chu Zhao for a while longer before going to meditate and regulate her vital energy.

Perhaps because the malevolent formation had bound her to the little red fish, she constantly felt as though her cultivation was being sucked into a bottomless pit recently.

She made daily progress, yet found it difficult to achieve a breakthrough. This was especially true after double cultivation.

She wondered if it was because she had defied and strayed from the Path of Emotionlessness (Wuqing Dao), causing a backlash that destabilized her foundation.

The candlelight flickered, making the room a little gloomier.

Si Jing lowered her long eyelashes, spiritual energy surged and clashed in her meridians, she clenched her fingers, a thin layer of sweat beaded on her temples, and her mind was uneasy.

Suddenly, a wet body burrowed into her embrace.

The lips, like a flower stamen, first sniffed at the corner of her mouth, then moved to her temple, extending a tongue to lick away a bead of sweat, her breath soft.

Si Jing raised her hand and tightly grasped Chu Zhao’s waist.

The girl flinched, seemingly startled, her eyelashes still damp from the water jar. She struggled, “It hurts, I can’t breathe…”

But mesmerized by the beauty’s face before her, she leaned in and pecked at the other’s pale pink lips, licking them delicately, a naive surge of lust rippling in her eyes, “Zhi Zhi, let’s double-cultivate again.”

If they double-cultivated every hour, she and her Lady would have many little fish.

But the expected tenderness did not arrive.

Si Jing flicked her sleeve, backing away. Her breathing was unsteady, and her fingertip pressed onto Chu Zhao’s shoulder.

A trace of unrestrained, cold spiritual energy suddenly rippled out, knocking the other girl away.

Chu Zhao felt a chilling sensation invade her body and fell heavily to the floor.

She rubbed her bruised knee, feeling wronged, “It hurts so much… Bad Lady!”

Looking up again, the woman in the snow-white robe had her back turned, silent, and did not look at her again.

If she doesn’t want to double-cultivate, fine. Even if Zhi Zhi comes to beg her later, she won’t agree!

Chu Zhao pouted in annoyance. When she stood up, the demonic self-healing ability had already dispersed the bruise on her knee. She put on her robe, glared at the person on the couch, and bolted out the door.

What she failed to see was that after her departure, Si Jing’s back was listless.

A trace of blood suddenly seeped from the corner of her lips, hidden by her sleeve.

The turbulent spiritual power within her body surged incessantly. Her expression was emotionless. She wiped away the blood, lowering her gaze, and remained silent.

Had the Heart-Purifying Spell also failed tonight?

The mountain peaks were desolate.

Shrouded by the night, the clouds and mist gathered, lingering for a long time, blurring the mountain paths into an indistinct, illusory sight.

Chu Zhao kicked a stone, listening to the sound to navigate, and stepped into the surging fog.

She had always liked gentle and considerate beauties, but she didn’t realize Si Jing could be so cold-hearted.

She will never like Si Jing again! She has to go to the shallow water where they double-cultivated today and see if her little fish are still there.

Unfortunately, Chu Zhao had a poor memory. After circling the forest several times, she still couldn’t find the spot.

However, in the mist, she caught sight of a very conspicuous crimson color and a familiar figure.

Chu Zhao rushed over, patted Shen Susu’s shoulder, and called out in a clear voice, “Stupid Susu, what are you doing here?”

The girl turned around, her eyes empty, and the Fish Jade Talisman hanging from her waist emitted an enchanting glow.

She tilted her head, seeming not to recognize her.

Chu Zhao spotted the blood jade on Shen Susu’s waist, gave a delicate huff, and reached out to pull it off.

Si Jing had given it to her previously, but Susu had tricked her out of it with a story. Now was the perfect time for it to be returned to its rightful owner.

As the blood jade fell into her palm, the girl in the light-blue Daoist robe instantly looked as though her soul had been sucked out, the light in her eyes gradually fading.

Chu Zhao kneaded Shen Susu’s face like dough, forcing out a stiff smile, and grew anxious, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Could she have been rendered speechless with anger by her?

No matter how she manipulated Shen Susu, she received no response, but her waist suddenly felt light.

The hard-won Fish Jade Pendant suddenly floated in the air, descended into the mist, and fell into someone’s palm.

Chu Zhao was furious. She abandoned Shen Susu and chased after the flickering blood jade, “Give it back! That belongs to A’Chu!”

She couldn’t make out the newcomer’s face, but she suddenly bumped into a soft embrace reeking of heavy wine.

Su Xue smiled, holding the Fish Jade Pendant a little higher.

After observing it for a moment, she had a clear judgment.

She channeled a gentle stream of spiritual energy, purifying the vicious demonic energy within the fish pendant. Everything was completed silently in an instant.

She pressed down on the fluffy top of Chu Zhao’s head and said with a smile, “Don’t rush, I’ll give it back to you. But aren’t you curious why Shen Susu, who was holding the Fish Jade, suddenly became so gloomy?”

Chu Zhao’s heart felt as if it were being held by the jade. She widened her eyes and asked, “Why?”

“Because—” Su Xue deliberately drew out her words to tease the fish.

“She has contracted Fish Jade Syndrome.”

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