After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 43

The blood mist felt substantial, sticky, and chilling, instantly lacing itself around Chu Zhao’s wrists and ankles, shackling her every move.

Only the woman, whose appearance was identical to Si Jing’s and was so close to her, raised her lips at Chu Zhao. Her eyes held a hint of infatuation, as if appreciating Chu Zhao’s flustered state.

Chu Zhao felt cold all over, as if a frigid mist had seeped into her bones.

Wanting to escape the woman’s embrace, her wrists were dragged by the silk-like mist.

She struggled forcefully, protesting with grievance, “You’re lying, demon, Gui Ji? I… I don’t know you! Where is Zhi Zhi?”

The lanterns in the distance were pushed away by the water ripples, and the nighttime scene of Beizhou market with its high-hanging lights was instantly shattered into nothingness.

The woman’s ethereal snow-white robe was now dyed a deep dark color. She lowered her head and remained silent, letting Chu Zhao break free from her embrace and plunge into the dense fog.

But she curled her lips, slowly got up, and manipulated the blood mist to close in.

Soon, the little fish who had fled in panic reappeared in her sight.

Chu Zhao found the inn where she had rested amidst the layers of blood mist. She pushed the door open, but it was empty inside.

She quickly ran upstairs, pushed open the room door, and wanted to find that figure pouring tea by the familiar Eight Immortals table.

No, no. Zhi Zhi was nowhere.

Only a pitted storage ring remained on the table. Chu Zhao approached and stared blankly. She recalled the storybook she had spent a passionate night with Si Jing over, but which they hadn’t used.

Suddenly, a soft body encircled her from behind.

The woman appeared out of nowhere, holding her hand, which was heavily entwined with blood mist. She affectionately stroked the red marks pressed into Chu Zhao’s wrist, pushed the storage ring onto her fingers, and softly called, “Zhao Zhao.”

“We can also try.”

The rich smell of blood rushed into Chu Zhao’s nostrils, like a venomous snake coiling around her.

Chu Zhao’s eyes were moist with tears, her heart felt cold, and she opened her mouth to bite.

But she only bit into the thin blood mist.

The woman’s appearance was blurry, seemingly merging with the blood mist, impossible to grasp, yet the chilling, prying gaze always followed her, enveloping her face.

She was unable to struggle, restrained by the blood mist and brought onto the bed where she had been intimate with Si Jing last night. Her lips were also sealed.

The woman pinned her down, her cold hand caressing her side cheek and collarbone. “Zhao Zhao, where did she touch you?”

Pressing her lips close, she whispered tenderly, like a temptation, yet containing a hint of suppressed obsession and malice, “Was it here, or… here?”

Chu Zhao resisted and drew back, the corners of her eyes flushed, like wet rouge. “Don’t touch Ah Chu!”

Only Zhi Zhi, only the wife she admired, was allowed.

The woman suddenly stopped all her movements. Her dark hair hung low, and her expression was indiscernible.

After a long time, she chuckled, her shoulders trembling.

The wife she… admired.

She gently raised her fingertip, and the blood mist condensed into a short blade, which she hid in Chu Zhao’s sleeve.

It was like a deliberately created flaw, tailor-made for the little fish.

Chu Zhao quickly felt the dagger.

With a clang, the blade shone brightly, instantly held against the woman’s neck, reflecting the panicked and aggrieved pink-jade eyes of the person holding the dagger. “Let, let me go!”

“Zhao Zhao.” Gui Ji advanced instead of retreating, and a cut instantly appeared on her neck.

She climbed onto the girl’s trembling wrist, gradually drawing closer, their noses lightly touching. Her voice was somber, “Do you want to kill me again?”

She held Chu Zhao’s other hand and pressed it against her own chest, tempting her in a low voice, “That time before, you live-chose-my-heart-out, it hurt so much… I’ve never been in so much pain.”

Chu Zhao shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I, I didn’t…”

She certainly hadn’t done such a thing.

The person in front of her was born clean and transcendent, exactly ten-tenths similar to Si Jing. Although she was wearing a strange, blood-dyed Daoist robe, her current appearance seemed fragile and easily broken.

In a moment of distraction, Chu Zhao’s grip loosened, and the short blade instantly slipped onto the bed.

Then, the woman casually lifted her hand and covered the bloodstain on her neck. She curled her lips and suddenly let out a low laugh.

The brightly shining short blade, as she wiped it, turned into blood mist and instantly melted away.

She bent down and kissed Chu Zhao’s earlobe, her eyes deep red, her voice low and gentle, “Zhao Zhao, I knew you wouldn’t bear to hurt me now.”

The blood mist seeped into Chu Zhao’s skin. She suddenly felt an unbearable heat all over, and no longer had the strength to struggle.

The moment the woman, in her frenzied state, affectionately held her lips, she gathered all her strength and bit down hard on the other’s soft, cold tongue.

Gui Ji got up, her face pale, her lips stained with crimson, looking even more like a seductive ghost.

She raised her hand to wipe away the bloodstain, curved her eyes, and coaxed gently, “You seem to like biting me more than before.”

She picked up Chu Zhao’s hand and tenderly pecked her fingertips.

Then, in the same manner, she suddenly bit through the tender skin and licked away that sweet taste.

The woman’s throat bone moved slightly as she forcibly suppressed her craving. She unfolded a section of her snow-white sleeve that hadn’t been soaked in blood mist.

Using Chu Zhao’s fingertip as a brush, she connected and sketched on the fabric until a crimson lotus leaf jumped out.

“Zhao Zhao.” She stroked the girl’s side cheek, which was slightly pale from blood loss. She tucked the sleeve into her embrace, feeling satisfied and attached. “Now, I also have that person’s lotus leaf pattern.”

“Would you be fond of me too?”

“Bad person, no way!” Chu Zhao forcefully shook her head.

Yet, a sense of resistance and shame surged in her heart.

The person in front of her looked so much like Si Jing that she couldn’t help but feel distracted.

If someone so aloof were to also treat her with such obsession and beg for her affection… that would be wonderful.

Unfortunately, her wrists and ankles were tightly bound. In her daze, she heard the woman lean close to her ear.

“I am her, and she is me.” As if reading her mind, she sighed.

“Zhao Zhao.” Cold fingertips slowly moved across her cheek, gradually moving downward to places she could hardly bear.

Chu Zhao bit her lips until they were red. She struggled in vain, but only sounds that made her feel ashamed leaked out.

“Whether in the past or now.” The woman tucked the sweat-dampened stray hair behind her ear, her peach blossom eyes shimmering, like a private whisper by her temple, “I will find you.”

“You can’t escape.”

“After all, the sword follows its master, have you forgotten? We are already blood-fused.”

The blood mist grew thicker. Chu Zhao’s hands and feet were bound, forced into a position she was unwilling to be in. She was in a terrible state, whimpering, but her voice was completely blocked in her throat.

Looking down, the person who was usually bright and pure, with a transcendent grace, was now willing to stoop down to please her. Her hair was soft like silk, lightly brushing and swaying, making her tingle and tremble.

Si Jing would never force her, and certainly wouldn’t… bully her like this.

Chu Zhao’s mind was reeling. The unprecedented sense of shame generated a strong resistance in her. “No, ugh… let Ah Chu go!”

Her wrists suddenly loosened. The blood mist restraining her seemed to obey her will, and the next moment, it tightly wrapped around the slender, pale neck of the woman in front of her.

Causing her shoulders to briefly stiffen, unable to move.

Gui Ji looked up, slightly surprised, her eyes filled with desire and indulgence. Even being suppressed by the retaliating blood mist, she still smiled seductively, “Zhao Zhao, so good.”

“Have you finally remembered… how to use me?”

“As long as Zhao Zhao is willing,” she pressed her cheek against the girl’s palm, gently rubbing in a posture of submission.

“The blood mist can obey your command and achieve anything you want.”

It was the same before.

And so was she.

But Chu Zhao felt like she was being targeted by a venomous snake. In a panic, she escaped the woman’s enclosing embrace.

No one pursued her.

The surrounding mist, after this ordeal, was no longer as dense as before. She could vaguely see the dark emptiness around her, and faint sounds of ghostly cries and surging blood seas could be heard.

She turned to look. The woman’s figure was slender, still lying on the bed in the same posture.

She carefully and affectionately gathered the sleeve corner, which was painted with a lotus leaf using Chu Zhao’s fresh blood, into her embrace. She looked at Chu Zhao, her smile lonely, yet harboring a hidden gloom, “Zhao Zhao.”

“You will come back to find me.”

Glancing at the fish jade pendant on the girl’s waist, the woman curled her lips.

She knew Si Jing better than anyone. After all, that was also her.

Would she choose the ridiculous common good, the deep love for her sect, or a fish demon entangled in rumors?

The mere thought of it made everything clear.

At that time, Zhao Zhao would forever belong to her.

The figure in the crimson skirt vanished into the surging blood mist. After Chu Zhao left, the only light in the gloomy Sea of Consciousness was extinguished.

Gui Ji touched the crimson mark on the corner of her sleeve, her expression dazed, her touch gentle.

It still retained traces of warmth. Just like when the little fish hadn’t seen through her, she was compliant and sweet, shyly pecking her cheek.

When Chu Zhao opened her eyes, she only felt a sticky, sore sluggishness in her eye sockets.

Her heart thumped rapidly. Panicked and helpless, she touched her eyes and felt a patch of dampness.

Looking around, the thick fog had dissipated. She was no longer in that inn, which was impossible to escape from.

Instead, it was a small, dark mountain cave.

She was lying on some soft grass, and a weak, dying campfire burned not far away. The entrance to the cave was sealed with a restriction spell.

Suspecting it was another trap by that crazy woman, Chu Zhao was frantic, groping around.

But her hand sank into a warm, soft area right beside her.

Si Jing was sleeping beside her, eyes closed and unconscious, her lips pale, sweat beading on her forehead.

Her slender waist and abdomen were wrapped with layer upon layer of cloth, but the bandaging was hasty, and shocking crimson blood was still seeping through.

Chu Zhao was a little scared. She curled up, staring at the woman for a long time.

Only when she felt the clean lotus leaf pattern on the corner of the other person’s sleeve did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.

She leaned down to feel Si Jing’s breath; it was extremely weak. Seeing the wound on her waist, her eyes instantly felt hot. She held the corner of the woman’s sleeve, “Zhi Zhi, Zhi Zhi…”

She never knew that the usually serene and taciturn person could bleed this much, enough to soak through the soft grass beneath them.

Forcing herself to calm down, Chu Zhao channeled her demon power into her palm and gently placed it on Si Jing’s waist to help stop the bleeding.

But it was no use. The other woman consumed her cultivation base like a bottomless pit, and she quickly ran out of energy.

Left with no choice, she anxiously covered the woman’s cold lips, using her own body heat to warm her, and transferred all her cultivation power without reservation.

Just like when they first met.

Si Jing’s long eyelashes trembled, seemingly reacting to the dampness on the side of her face, but her complexion remained pale, showing no sign of waking up.

Chu Zhao blankly wiped away the watery trace beside the woman’s cheek, raised her hand, and lightly touched her own eye socket.

She cried?

She never knew that, as a fish demon, she could actually cry.

Lady Shan Hu once told her the story of the Merman race, which had flourished in ancient times but was now extinct.

When a Merman met the one they admired, they were unable to speak. When deliberately betrayed, they could only cry with their heads bowed to express their sorrow.

Their tears were bitter, resembling pearls and jade. When they fell into the great ocean, they did not make the water salty.

Chu Zhao still remembered how utterly confused she was back then: “If crying a lot makes pearls, but they’ll just be gathered by bad people in the end, I won’t cry!”

Since her birth, she had lived a carefree and unrestrained life in the wilderness for over a hundred years. She had never tasted tears and therefore believed she couldn’t cry.

Yet now, salty and cold droplets touched her lips.

For a demon with a Water Spiritual Root, all the moisture she evaporated contained her own emotional energy. Swallowing it brought a layered bitterness.

Chu Zhao disregarded it completely, wiped away her tears, and stubbornly continued to transfer her cultivation power to the unconscious woman in the snow-white robe beneath her.

Outside the cave, a continuous, damp rain seemed to be falling, pattering lightly. It was already midnight.

She didn’t know how much time had passed.

She was exhausted and groggy. When she suddenly opened her eyes, she caught sight of the woman beneath her, whose eyes were as cold and clear as falling rain.

Si Jing had just woken up from her severe injury. Her gaze was unfocused, and her eyelids drooped.

Meeting Chu Zhao’s moist, crimson-pink eyes, for some reason, her long brows slightly furrowed, and she silently shifted her gaze away. “…”

Chu Zhao didn’t notice.

Surprise and panic overwhelmed her. She leaned down and carefully pecked the woman’s soft lips again. “Zhi Zhi, you’re finally awake!”

She rubbed her eyes, afraid that Si Jing would see her recent embarrassment, but she couldn’t hide her joy, her lips curling slightly.

However, the woman mercilessly pushed her away with a thin, icy stream of spiritual power, causing her to fall clumsily to the side.

Chu Zhao was utterly lost.

Ignoring her scraped arm, her eyes remained blank as she quietly called, “Zhi Zhi…?”

Did Zhi Zhi have a nightmare, just like her?

Si Jing draped her outer robe and slowly sat up. Blood continued to seep from the wound on her waist, but she merely glanced down at it.

As if she couldn’t feel the pain.

The cold wind of the rainy night blew, causing the campfire in the cave to flicker violently and suddenly go out at that moment.

The warmth that had been projected onto the woman’s pale face completely vanished, leaving only the shadow of the bleak rain curtain.

She was so disgusted that she didn’t even want to look at Chu Zhao. Catching sight of the fish jade pendant on Chu Zhao’s waist, she silently closed her eyes again.

Her voice was still weak, yet coldly chilling, “…Where did Nie Qian go?”

“When she disappeared, a blood jade pendant hung at her waist, and blood mist surged around her, just like those cultivators who provoked you.”

“Demoness, did you kill her?”

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