After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 38

The message-bearing jade slip rolled to the side, its carved groove still flashing with light.

Chu Zhao braced herself against Si Jing’s shoulders, wanting to escape the sword box, but her lips were sealed. The hot current swirling within her had long since sapped her strength.

In a panic, she bit the woman’s soft lip. “…Mmm, no, let me go…”

Si Jing had always treated her with cool detachment, and their intimacies were usually restrained and gentle. But tonight was different. Her breath was ragged, and she was pressing Chu Zhao almost into her own embrace.

Afraid the woman would again transform into the terrifying dog demon who had choked her neck and drunk her blood on previous nights, Chu Zhao’s body erupted in a fiery crimson protective demonic energy, pushing the other woman away.

The cold, sterile air of the sword box let no moonlight through. Si Jing’s chest rose and fell, her eyes slightly moist.

Her lips still bore the mark of the rough handling, a blend of lust and clarity, like a wilted jade lotus blossom.

She glanced at Chu Zhao, realizing the girl was afraid, and gently shifted her gaze away.

“I… I thought you wouldn’t come back.”

She had been cruel enough to push the little fish away last night, so the little fish’s rejection now was only fitting.

Chu Zhao had originally intended to flee, but the cool, somber voice pierced her ear, causing an unexplained pang of bitterness in her heart, like being stung by a sea anemone.

“I still have to take Zhi Zhi back to my cave to get married!” she feigned a cheerful tone.

Seeing that the beauty wouldn’t immediately transform into a terrifying dog demon, she boldly lunged onto the woman’s chest, deliberately lowering her voice. “This Fish Donkey Peak is full of bad immortal cultivators, especially that wet trout! He’s a habitual scammer, we can’t stay here any longer!”

She resolved to take Si Jing back to the desolate mountain in a few days—no, tomorrow.

Si Jing parted her lips, seemingly intending to say something.

Catching sight of the girl’s expectant look, her gaze shifting, she swallowed her words.

She merely answered in response to Chu Zhao’s words: “There’s a sword trial gathering soon at Kunlun Xu in the Northern State. I need to take my junior disciples there. My Master… she dislikes showing up at such events, so she likely won’t go.”

Chu Zhao didn’t know where the Northern State was or what Kunlun Xu was.

She gave a muffled “oh,” her mind still preoccupied with taking the beauty back to her cave.

Then she heard Si Jing speak softly: “After we set off, if you wish, you can lead me to that desolate mountain during the breaks in the trials.”

Chu Zhao, nestled against the beauty’s soft chest, thought she had misheard.

After all these days since meeting Zhi Zhi, had her greatest wish been fulfilled just like that?

She truly was amazing!

Perhaps the credit was also due to the fish jade pendant she had stolen from Shen Susu. She absolutely had to wear the pendant on her waist and pay it proper reverence in the future.

Completely forgetting how Si Jing’s kisses had left her breathless just moments before, Chu Zhao was overwhelmed with joy.

She leaped into the woman’s arms, sweetly called out “Wifey,” cupped her face, and pecked her a few times. “Ah Chu loves you!”

As the words left her mouth, she noticed the beauty unnaturally turning her head away, and the thin, pale skin behind her ear seemed, almost illusorily, to be tinged with pink.

Chu Zhao’s eyes widened in observation. She rubbed against her, feeling a hint of warmth.

She had always thought men (Xuanmen/Mystic Gate) immortal cultivators were unyielding blocks of ice who couldn’t blush.

“Do you… still want it?” Si Jing suddenly asked.

Her voice was cool but carried a slight, soft quality, as if melting snow.

Her plain, pale fingers gently touched her own chest, her gaze subdued, containing the faint, hidden moonlight.

“Would you… like to come into my place?”

Chu Zhao was so captivated by the woman’s beauty that she didn’t quite hear what she said and nodded dazedly.

Si Jing stroked the back of her neck, and she transformed back into her fish form, held in the soft palm, and brought inside the opened front of the robe.

A familiar sensation of falling rushed over her. Just as she was about to plunge into that icy mirror lake, Chu Zhao seemed to hear Si Jing’s frail, soft cough.

A moment later, she also smelled a faint scent of blood.

Was Zhi Zhi injured?

Chu Zhao felt a surge of panic, but looking around, everything was already pitch black. She could no longer clearly see the thin, snow-white figure.

She plunged into a cold sea full of ripples and was soon embraced by Si Jing, who followed closely behind.

The other woman used her lips to gently nip her earlobe, and her hand explored the water, feeling even hotter than the water itself. It gradually traced toward Chu Zhao’s sticky, damp area.

Like tracing a talisman, slow and careful, it made her tremble and try to push away.

Si Jing, when intimate with her in the mirror lake, seemed to shed the icy shell she wore in the outside world. She was gentle and thorough, making it difficult for Chu Zhao to resist.

The naked, slender figure, trembling from kisses, suddenly transformed into a smooth, little fish and swam forward with all its might in the water, trying to escape the restraint.

But the ripples in the water abruptly stilled. Ice shards and frost patterns flowed slowly, and in an instant, Chu Zhao was frozen not far away, only her long, crimson cloud-tail still able to faintly twitch.

Inside the woman’s sea of consciousness, everything was skillfully controlled by the other woman.

Si Jing, spotless and unblemished, walked across the water, freed the little red fish, and trapped it in her palm again.

“Didn’t you say you wanted it? Then why… are you trying to escape?” Her voice was warm, gentle, and slow, concealing a hint of bewilderment, and a deep-seated desire for control.

Only here could she briefly experience the seven emotions and six desires and fleeting pleasure, like a normal person.

…She didn’t want Chu Zhao to escape.

The mirror lake, previously without a single crack, had transformed into a scene of undulating water, sometimes turbulent, sometimes serene. Centered around the two of them, ceaseless ripples spread outwards.

Drip. A thread of crimson suddenly fell from the canopy above, staining the surface of the water.

It was a drop of viscous, sickeningly sweet-smelling blood.

Where the water and sky met, gloom surged, and the clouds deepened. Unbeknownst to them, the surroundings had silently grown dim.

It was no longer the empty, reflective, purely mirror-like lake; it had violently flipped into a sea of blood where bones dissolved and lingering souls wept in unison.

The reverse side of clear purity was turbidity and sickness.

Within the sea of blood, a female figure in a stained Daoist robe seemed to flash by. Shrouded by mist, she looked at the two figures tangled and panting in the water, faintly curved her lips, and smiled a chilling, mournful smile.

Her peach blossom eyes were crimson, and she stared at Chu Zhao’s dazed, breathless state with (infatuation/obsession) for a long time.

She then glanced at Si Jing, her eyes swelling with a variety of intense, unyielding resentment.

Chu Zhao felt like the sea of consciousness had grown a little darker.

But when she refocused, the scene before her was still the quiet, clear mirror lake.

She struggled feebly, utterly exhausted and past her limit, no longer able to focus on anything else. She cried out, feeling like a fish on a chopping block, helpless to the slaughter.

Si Jing, unhurried, was gentle yet irresistible in her touch, gradually exposing Chu Zhao’s most shameful and vulnerable parts.

Finally, as the woman lightly kissed her eyelids and softly murmured her name, “Zhao Zhao,” she whimpered, biting down on the corner of the other’s damp robe, her waist shaking uncontrollably.

So weary she felt she might fall asleep instantly, Chu Zhao allowed the surrounding water to envelop her, transforming back into the little red fish with a convulsive, faintly trembling tail, curling up in the woman’s palm.

The ripples subsided little by little, the surging waves gone.

Si Jing leaned down and lightly pecked the little fish’s body, covered in its damp, soft scales.

She… didn’t want the little red fish to leave.

The water surface froze over again. Her five senses rapidly diminished. Following the brief pleasure was an unbearable emptiness and dead silence.

Si Jing lowered her gaze, catching sight of her own current reflection in the mirror lake.

Her lips were nearly bitten raw, yet she felt no pain. Even the sensation of the little fish biting her collarbone during its arousal was now impossible to trace.

After leaving the sea of consciousness, the backlash of her spiritual power would worsen. She didn’t know how far her cultivation would regress in the future.

The memory of the reckless moments just past caused threads of self-loathing to rise, clinging to her like maggots on bone, tearing at her clarity and self-control.

Si Jing suddenly felt a sweetness in her throat. She leaned forward, a crimson streak spilling from the corner of her mouth.

Fortunately… the little fish didn’t see it.

She used her thumb to wipe away the sticky, fishy red from her lips and looked up.

The high heaven of her sea of consciousness was as vast and tranquil as ever.

Yet, a moment ago, she had caught a glimpse of a gaze that unsettled her, cold and snakelike, full of the utmost mockery and cruelty.

Si Jing clenched her fingers. In the past, she had never sensed the other party’s presence within her sea of consciousness.

…Who exactly is it?

The next day, morning birds chirped, and the clouds were bright.

When Chu Zhao woke up, she found herself tucked neatly into bed, covered by soft bedding. She sat up, her waist still terribly sore, but she didn’t dwell on it.

Seeing Si Jing with her back to her, her hair tied up with a wooden hairpin, about to push the door and leave with a sword, Chu Zhao scrambled off the bed in a panic.

Her arms wrapped tightly around the woman’s slender waist from behind. “…Zhi Zhi, don’t go.”

She had been too exhausted last night, and for a moment, she couldn’t tell if Si Jing’s promise to return to the desolate mountain to marry her was a dream or reality.

Si Jing’s body stiffened.

The hand reaching for the door was pulled back into her sleeve. She spoke softly, “I’m going to the inner chamber. It’s just some tedious lectures, which you’ve seen before. You should rest here a little longer.”

She noticed the little fish’s brow was furrowed this morning, looking very tired, so she hadn’t called her.

Chu Zhao nestled against the woman’s back and shook her head, “I want to go too!”

She was afraid Si Jing would leave without a word for the Northern State and Kunlun Xu. She was terrified of being abandoned.

It brought back dark memories of being a fish fry, being abandoned before she could even take human form, and nearly being swallowed by a demon.

Si Jing didn’t push her away. After a moment of silence, she turned around.

Just like last night, she pulled open a gap in her neatly closed robe, her voice low and gentle, “Then… come in.”

Chu Zhao’s face flushed hot, recalling the images of their entanglement in the empty sea of consciousness.

Not wanting the other person to see her reddened ear tips, she immediately reverted to her fish form and leaped into the fresh-smelling gap in the robe.

She didn’t forget to clamp onto the fabric, pull it over her head, and hide herself completely.

She seemed to hear an extremely faint sigh above her head—the beauty seemed to be smiling.

Chu Zhao felt a little tickle and wanted to peek out, but a slightly cool thumb pressed her back in.

In an instant, a chilly mountain wind brushed past her ears. She only heard the rustling of robes, and in just a few short breaths, they had arrived by sword at the newly constructed hall on the mountainside of Emerald Peak.

“Of course! I have some connections on the neighboring peaks, too.” Just a few steps from the hall’s entrance, they could hear Shen Susu’s self-praising voice.

“Just wait, when Senior Sister comes in, she’ll definitely handpick the candidates for the Nine Provinces Sword Trial herself.”

“…Don’t pick the blockhead Susu!” Chu Zhao clamped onto Si Jing’s chest fabric, grumbling petulantly.

Si Jing didn’t respond.

She clasped her hand over her chest, concealing the faint flash of crimson, and walked into the inner chamber.

She glanced at Shen Susu as usual, watching her hang her head shamefully over the desk like a quail before finally relenting.

As everyone expected, she briefly explained the matters concerning the sword trial in half a month and spoke softly: “Does anyone wish to volunteer?”

The inner chamber instantly grew noisy. “Xiao Wan and Shen Susu, the two sword cultivators, should go, right?”

Nie Qian looked at her stunningly beautiful Senior Sister at the front, her ears suspiciously flushed.

She mumbled indignantly, “The Nine Provinces Sword Trial… can’t body cultivators go too? I want to go!”

Chu Zhao recognized the voice of Nie Qian, who was extremely supportive of her. She anxiously nudged Si Jing’s palm through the fabric. “Pick Nie Qian! Pick Nie Qian!”

Si Jing lowered her gaze. The little fish, cradled in her robe, had wide eyes, looking up at her with anticipation, its voice delicate and bright.

She pursed her lips, paused for a moment, and pressed the little fish back into hiding with her palm.

Amidst the clamor, her gaze fell upon the crowd, and she spoke softly.

“Nie Qian.”

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