After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 47.1

A coldness enveloped her body, and tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks.

Chu Zhao’s round eyes were crimson as she slowly pushed away Zhu Yin’s (Candle Dragon’s) claw, persistently trying to glimpse the woman’s expression at that moment.

The woman was as pure and aloof as an immortal banished from heaven. Placed in this scene of purgatory, she was like the clear moon in a mirror or the mist flower in the water, her gaze lowered, making it impossible to discern her emotions.

She recalled that since their bond, she had never been able to read the thoughts of Si Jing.

Whether it was their intimate entanglements late at night, in the depths of their passion, or the time she shielded her from a sword in the mountain cave. Even witnessing the destruction of the desolate mountain now, the woman remained calm and indifferent, like a high and cold piece of dark ice.

Did Si Jing bring these immortal cultivators here?

Her heart felt as if it had broken open, already numb. Chu Zhao’s round eyes were crimson, and she murmured to herself, “…You’re lying to Ah Chu, aren’t you?”

Being kind to her, indulging her, promising to take her back to the desolate mountain to get married—it was all fake.

Si Jing never wanted to be her wife from the very beginning.

The desolate mountain was withered and silent. The immortal cultivators mercilessly slaughtered and killed, and the clear pool quickly turned crimson.

Some people surrounded the snow-white figure that emerged from the pool, vague and shadowy. As for what exactly was being said, Chu Zhao could no longer hear.

The part of her tail where the scales had been stripped still felt a burning pain, which slowly spread to her chest, making it hard for her to breathe.

Chu Zhao’s vision blurred, and she stared blankly, meeting Si Jing’s eyes.

Those were the eyes she was most familiar with, the ones she yearned for day and night.

They used to be soft and passionate in the night, filled with a shimmering tide, but now they were cold and distant, illuminating all things with their stillness.

They did not reflect her image, nor would they ever linger for anyone.

Zhu Yin’s original body was enormous, almost covering the sky. Struck by several combined sword intents from the immortal cultivators, it whimpered in pain, its body teetering.

Yet, it managed to curl its claw, tightly protecting the tender little fish, “Ah Chu, sad… don’t be…”

On its rough back scales, the wound was deep, revealing white bone. Blood gushed out. Enduring the pain, it used its dragon claw to tear open a twisted, eerie fissure and spiralled into it.

It didn’t want to see Chu Zhao cry.

The last time it used this teleportation demonic art to escape to the desolate mountain, its cultivation regressed by a hundred years, making it difficult even to transform into a human.

Now, for Chu Zhao to leave this place, it was willing.

The huge, awe-inspiring ancient dragon figure vanished into the sky, leaving only the swift sword qi of the immortal cultivators who swept in belatedly.

Luo Yu had not attacked. The petals on the apricot blossom branch in her arms had already withered. With a gentle shake, the branch turned into powder.

The smile on her face remained. She looked up at the snow-robed figure who had approached her on a flying sword, her expression cold, and she called out softly, “Yingzhi.”

The surrounding immortal cultivators praised her quietly, sighing that she was indeed worthy of being the Master’s niece of the Immortal Maiden of Zhuo Qing, and now, looking at her, she was stunningly talented in both realm and aptitude.

“Thank you for leading us fellow cultivators here. An ancient dragon race was actually hiding in this place. Although the wicked beast has escaped, the calamity has been temporarily suppressed.” Luo Yu said gently.

Si Jing tightly clenched her fingers, the transmission feather in her palm destroyed.

Pieces fell, scattered at her feet, stained with dirt.

Her voice was extremely light, “You used the feather to trace my steps and find this place, didn’t you?”

Luo Yu did not answer, merely stood quietly, tucking her sleeves in.

The next second, a cold sensation touched her neck.

Si Jing’s features were indifferent, her lips pale. The short blade in her hand pressed closer. Her face held a fragile quality, yet it seemed to be frozen with a dark frost.

The Kunlun Xu immortal cultivators beside the woman immediately frowned, their protective artifacts glowing, and sword qi filled the air, striking towards her.

But the sword tips stopped just a few inches away in mid-air.

Si Jing did not glance in that direction. She gently raised her hand and pressed down, neutralizing the attacks with a power comparable to the Nascent Soul realm.

Cold blue spiritual energy dissipated. She looked at the noble woman in front of her, pressed the dagger closer again, and confronted her silently, “… Martial Aunt.”

“Yingzhi,” Luo Yu sighed softly, neither dodging nor evading, only looking at her with compassion.

“You ordered your Martial Sisters Xiao Wan and Shen Susu to return to Yunshui Chamber. Were you hoping to see if the red silk ribbon containing a trace of Nie Qian’s soul on the peach tree branches in the back mountain had faded?”

If it faded, it meant the person had passed away.

Luo Yu raised her hand and summoned a clear prism mirror, showing it to Si Jing, “Look.”

The lush green peak of Yunshui Chamber still presented a scene covered in snow year-round.

In the silence, the peach tree was clearly dormant, and among the hundreds of vibrant red silk ribbons Si Jing had personally hung on the branches, one had already faded to a pale white colour.

Only the name inscribed on it remained—”Nie Qian.”

Luo Yu gently pushed away the short blade from her neck, not even activating her protective spiritual power, and said, “Martial Sister died because of the blood jade. Yingzhi, are you still so obsessed with that fish demon?”

“Moreover…” She slightly lowered her eyelids, looking gently at the speechless Si Jing in front of her.

“If I told you that the incident of the blood-washing of the Lush Green Peak a hundred years ago is directly related to the Demon Venerable Jiang Yun, who is the little red fish you are protecting.”

“Yingzhi, what would you do?”

Chu Zhao awoke in a pool of warm, living water.

Her fish tail was stiff, her eyes were sore, and her whole body ached as if it had been crushed.

The place she was in was an extremely exquisite pool. She tried to circulate her demonic power, but she couldn’t transform into a human. Panicked, she looked around, but there was no familiar figure.

Ripples spread.

It seemed someone above the water had noticed the commotion and leaned over to look.

It was a little girl with soft, jade-like horns on her forehead, delicately beautiful. Seeing her, her eyes immediately lit up, “Adult Zhao Zhao is awake! Come quickly, Huailang, come here!”

Someone was called over, covering her face and yawning, “Don’t rush. Three days have passed; I guess this little sleepy fish demon should be awake now.”

“Adult Zhao Zhao is the purest bloodline of the Fish Dragon race! She just hasn’t mastered the art of shedding scales and transformation, she’s not some little sleepy fish demon!” The little girl twisted the ear of the woman next to her.

Chu Zhao looked up blankly at the waterside. She didn’t know where she was, nor had she ever seen these two people.

Huailang nodded, perfunctorily responding, “I know, I know.”

The woman wore a light yellow sheer soft robe, her simple bun casually tied, her jade horns long and slender, her skin like congealed cream.

Squinting, she looked at Chu Zhao for a moment, then, tucking her sleeve, she used her warm fingertip to check her forehead.

“Although she doesn’t look as sly and wilful as when I saw her last time, she should be fine. Wasn’t she well-protected by that clumsy dragon? Except for her tail, which I don’t know who gnawed on, there’s no other injury.”

Chu Zhao blew a string of bubbles, “Who is the clumsy dragon?”

Curiously, she bit Huailang’s sleeve corner, pulling her down, “Who are you? And who is the demon next to you?”

Huailang took a slight, unhappy breath, “Hiss—you don’t recognize me? I only tricked you with green plums once, and I gave you the sword afterwards! You, how can you not know me?”

Bei Yue pulled her next to her, whispering a reminder, “Ahem!”

“Huailang, did you forget? You performed the clan’s secret technique on Adult Zhao Zhao… washing away many of her memories.”

Huailang’s body stiffened.

She immediately forced a smile and changed the subject, “Well, the little fish demon’s tail is still injured. I’m going to pluck some spirit grass and mix some medicinal paste. I’m leaving.”

The woman did not want to admit her poor memory in her old age. Her sheer robe floated up, unable to save her face, and she fled as if escaping.

Only Bei Yue remained, leaning eagerly by the water, propping up her soft cheek, and touching Chu Zhao’s tail with sympathy.

“How did you get injured? Even the scales are gone. Were you tricked and used for medicine by a wicked person? Or does Adult Zhao Zhao have someone she admires?”

The Fish Dragon race has a tradition: after bonding, one must present their most vibrant scale to their Dao companion and receive the other’s scale, embedding it in the original spot, to signify their continuous affection.

But the scales on Chu Zhao’s tail were taken away, yet no new ones were embedded, suggesting she must have been deceived and misled.

Just as indignation flared up, Bei Yue heard the little fish in the water murmuring sweetly, “Someone… I admire?”

Chu Zhao didn’t know what was wrong with her.

She was initially enjoying the caring attention, but when her scorched, painful tail was touched, her heart suddenly sank, feeling like a sour, bitter sea urchin.

She curled up into a small ball, her soft fins touching the empty, scaleless part of her tail, and her eyes immediately turned red.

She whimpered blankly, “…Zhi-Zhi?”

Who is Zhi Zhi?

A vague, slender, snow-white figure appeared dimly before her.

She was curled up in the woman’s delicate palm with thin calluses, being gently manipulated by the other’s slightly cold fingers. Just as she was overwhelmed and pleading for mercy, the other gently bestowed a kiss of affection.

Her peach blossom eyes were tender and passionate, her voice like melting snow, calling her “Zhao Zhao.”

Asking if she was uncomfortable, and if she should be gentler.

But the emptiness at the base of her tail seemed to indicate that she had lost her beauty.

She could barely even remember the other person’s appearance.

“Zhi Zhi, Zhi Zhi…” Chu Zhao repeated helplessly, anxiously and blindly swimming around underwater.

She had to find Zhi Zhi.

She had to find the person she admired.

…

After Chu Zhao’s injuries healed, she barely managed to transform into a human and was settled in a vast, exquisite residence.

It had a deep and clear bathing pool, a couch as soft as floating clouds, and the food delivered daily was tempting. Jade vases held lotuses that never withered, tender and dewy.

Yet, she had no heart to enjoy it.

This place was located in Dongzhou, hidden deep in the Yaoguang Marsh, amidst the lotus flowers. It was the territory of the Fish Dragon race, protected by a clan barrier, making it difficult for ordinary people to find.

The Fish Dragon race had always lived in seclusion, rarely appearing outside, and their people seldom travelled out.

Chu Zhao couldn’t even escape.

Aside from Huailang and Bei Yue, many others with dragon horns on their foreheads and different appearances came to visit her.

Some looked awed, others worried and concerned.

They all called her “Adult” or “Venerable.” Those who were more intimate added the two characters of Zhao Zhao.

Chu Zhao helplessly wrapped herself in the quilt, shaking her head and quietly responding, “I, I am not.”

Although she had forgotten where she was born and grew up, she still remembered that she was clearly just a fish demon.

She was not some powerful Fish Dragon.

After the crowd dispersed with pity, Chu Zhao always liked to examine her wrist.

A bright, deep blue ice bracelet hung there. On her little finger, there was also a remarkably similar ice ring.

Whenever she touched them, she could briefly glimpse blurry fragments of memories.

The woman’s ears were occasionally flushed pink with shyness, and sometimes her face showed intoxication, her eyes shimmering with liquid.

Being a woman of few words, she rarely said anything, so she always called her “Zhao Zhao.”

Clear, soft, and tender.

Chu Zhao stared intently for a long time, her cheeks burning, as if mesmerized.

But one day, the ice bracelet and ice ring suddenly and without warning went dim, and they never glowed again.

She had lost her anchor, feeling empty in her heart.

Just like no new scales had grown back on her tail.

Chu Zhao quietly reached for her ankle.

Although Huailang had applied medicinal paste, and it no longer hurt, a lingering red mark remained.

Only by touching this spot could she briefly recall the figure that made her heart pound, that she coveted and yearned for day and night.

The only person she could still remember.

The cold and elegant, beautiful woman in white, named Zhi Zhi, the person she admired.

For the following few days, Chu Zhao neither ate nor drank.

She was wronged and confused, thinking about it all day until her head felt heavy.

Zhi Zhi was so kind to her, yet now she wasn’t by her side. Was she too spoiled and drove the beauty away?

Finally, one day, when Huailang walked in carrying several beautiful swords, she grabbed the corner of the woman’s light yellow robe.

She shook her head, her eyes crimson, and spoke softly, “Ah Chu doesn’t want swords.”

“I, I want Zhi Zhi. A Lang, can you take me to find Zhi Zhi?”

The space around her ears fell silent for a moment.

The woman in front of her was now the most highly respected Elder of the Fish Dragon race, something Chu Zhao had overheard today.

If it was Huailang, she definitely had a way to get her out of here.

Huailang spread the swords out in front of Chu Zhao. She was about to indulge her as usual, pinch her cheek, and coax her to eat, but today she murmured repeatedly, “Zhi Zhi?”

Her usually somewhat gentle face hardened a few degrees, and she refused, “No, Zhao Zhao, your injury hasn’t fully healed. Besides, I don’t know anyone named Zhi Zhi.”

Huailang, for once, was completely out of patience with her. She placed the food box on the table and left without staying up all night to chat and entertain her.

The door was locked from the outside.

She had used some kind of spell, and with Chu Zhao’s current cultivation and realm, she couldn’t unlock it no matter what.

She leaned against the door, curled up into a small ball in exhaustion. Her stomach was hungry, but she had no mind to eat. Her chest was enveloped by a sense of emptiness and helplessness.

Zhi Zhi was the only name she could still remember now.

She must find Zhi Zhi.

She unknowingly fell asleep from fatigue. When she woke up again, the sun was high outside.

Chu Zhao heard quiet, hushed voices arguing outside the door.

“Kunlun Xu sent disciples again to present gifts. I heard they even brought that notoriously famous personal sword, ‘Gui Ji’.”

“‘Gui Ji’? Wasn’t that the reward given by Immortal Maiden Zhuo Qing to the champion of the Flower-Breaking Sword Trial?”

“It seems they heard Adult Zhao Zhao liked it, so they sent it over. Right now, the demonic energy is rampant across the Nine Provinces, spreading from Beizhou to Zhongzhou. The Sword Trial will probably be hard to continue.”

“Zhongzhou… Alas, I’ve been there. Although it has no famous sects, it’s a wealthy and peaceful place. I wonder what kind of purgatory it has become now.”

“Isn’t that sword cultivator, whom Immortal Maiden Zhuo Qing has recently favored, from Zhongzhou? I hear her appearance is pure and exquisite, like a clear breeze and a bright moon. Her name is Si…”

“Si Jing, Si Yingzhi.”

Chu Zhao’s heart seemed to be seized, her breathing slowing down.

Si Jing, Si Jing.

Si Jing was her Zhi Zhi.

So the person she admired was a sword cultivator.

If she took that sword, “Gui Ji,” which everyone said was very powerful, found Zhi Zhi, and gave it to her as an apology, would the woman forgive her?

Would she then speak softly to her again, not abandon her, and be willing to be with her?

Chu Zhao stumbled and ran back into the house, rummaging through the gifts that had nearly piled into a mountain.

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