After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 48.2

“This is Zhao Zhao’s love tribulation,” Luo Yu had whispered gently when she brought Chu Zhao back.

Huai Lang didn’t believe it. How could a little red fish, ignorant and innocent, have a love tribulation?

She could still recall the girl at the North Prefecture market, arrogant and vibrant, holding the sword she had forged, her apricot eyes glowing.

She also often thought back to the few days after she rescued Chu Zhao from a clumsy dragon and brought her back to the Shaking Light Marsh, where they briefly stayed together, and she coaxed her to sleep.

Most of the time, Chu Zhao was well-behaved and docile. She would softly call her “A’Lang,” curl up in her arms, her breathing soft and warm when she slept.

She was so much like that person from a hundred years ago.

Huai Lang gently closed her eyes.

The fish-dragon race’s power was currently in decline, but over a thousand years, Huai Lang still occasionally dreamed of scenes from the past.

When the Shaking Light Marsh was merely a vast, shimmering pond, she and the charming, unrestrained woman shared a pillow beneath a boat full of stars, quietly watching the moon rise and the stars shift.

At that time, Jiang Yun was not the notorious “Demon Lord” of today. She wielded a sword named Gui Ji, slaying all the rampant demonic energy and evil spirits in the world.

Everyone called her—Lord Hengwu.

Lord Hengwu was outwardly luminous but secretly had a wild streak when drunk, with a poor tolerance for alcohol.

If she couldn’t get drunk, she liked to mix in a bit of honey nectar. If she did get drunk, she would climb onto Huai Lang and cause trouble.

Unfortunately, her limbs would be soft and limp, and her voice would soften when she spoke, “A’Lang, why do, why do you have four horns?”

The small boat was nearly capsized by the weight, but they were two fish-dragons, so they weren’t afraid.

Huai Lang remembered always trying to push her away, “I, I grew up with you! Get down… Sleep hugging your sword, don’t set your mind on me!”

Jiang Yun hummed in response, her voice rising in pitch.

Her eyes blurred, and she propped herself up on Huai Lang’s shoulders, gazing for a long time, “But why, why is your face red?”

Huai Lang closed her eyes, feeling as if she had swallowed a green plum, the sourness making her throat tight and unable to speak.

Yet her heart was beating so fast.

She was clearly… also moved by a strange impulse.

She wanted to take advantage of Jiang Yun’s drunken state and kiss those thinly powdered lips.

She was only a few years older than Jiang Yun, a difference negligible among fish-dragons with a lifespan of over a thousand years.

But Jiang Yun listened to her intently, even occasionally calling her “Elder Sister,” a term that nearly made her blush when she was seeking affection.

Drunk and sleepy, Jiang Yun didn’t get a response for a long time. She climbed down from Huai Lang in grievance, tightly hugged Gui Ji, and fell asleep on the other side of the small boat.

Huai Lang propped herself up, using the moonlight to trace the contours of Jiang Yun’s face.

The surroundings were quiet, with only the soft, warm sound of her breathing remaining.

And her own heart, surging like the tide.

She thought that these days would continue indefinitely.

If Jiang Yun liked collecting beautiful swords, she would secretly learn the art of forging them. If Jiang Yun wanted to fight and kill, she, who was proficient in medicine, would accompany her from behind.

However, Huai Lang always seemed to be one step too late.

Too late when Jiang Yun was pierced through the chest by the fierce sword Gui Ji in the Silent Sea, crimson blood profusely pouring out, and she could only hold the increasingly cold body, witnessing the dissipation of her soul.

Too late now, having lived for over a thousand years, yet unable to protect even a small fish the size of her palm.

Huai Lang took a sip of the honey nectar, her eyes hazy.

In a trance, a pair of crimson-pink eyes seemed to smile at her, her voice soft, “A’Lang, are you drunk too? How about I hug you?”

She stood up blankly.

The figure she desperately wanted to keep suddenly dispersed among the glittering dust motes.

Looking out the door, the person who overlapped with her memory had already merged into the beautiful scenery of the Shaking Light Marsh’s morning.

Just like that night a hundred years ago, after slowly waking up from the small boat, the morning glow outside the Great Marsh rolled, and the mountains smeared the faint clouds.

The Shaking Light Marsh glittered with ripples, the palaces were densely packed, and clear pools were visible everywhere.

Pink lotus flowers swayed, with slender fish fry swimming among them.

Chu Zhao walked and drank, slightly tipsy from the lake breeze. She didn’t know where she was, but she saw the little fish all leaping out of the water, eagerly calling, “Lord Zhao Zhao!”

She lifted her sleeve to net a few small fish and asked with a smile, “What’s the matter, are you hungry?”

“No!” The most lively crimson little fish among them worked its gills, “We, we were washed here by the turbulent current in the cleansing waters and got lost… We still have to go to class!”

Chu Zhao shared the honey nectar in her hand with the small fish whose mouths were wide open. Her apricot eyes blinked lightly, “It’s easy. I’ll take you there.”

She was recovering from a serious illness and in a playful mood. Parting the layers of lotus petals, her toes barely tapped a few times before she found another, wider body of water.

The small fish fry in her sleeves cried out in astonishment.

It would take them two days and two nights of swimming, yet Lord Zhao Zhao had arrived in the blink of an eye!

Chu Zhao released the small fish into the water and sat by a low bridge nearby, dangling her legs and observing the demons’ swordplay class.

The sword art teacher was a fish-dragon whose age could not be discerned, like Bei Yue. After patiently offering advice for a while, she let the naive little fish, who had transformed into human form, wield wooden swords and spar among the floating lotus petals in the marsh.

“We want Lord Zhao Zhao to teach!” Before long, a small fish looked eagerly at the crimson figure by the wooden bridge and softly begged.

Chu Zhao was originally resting her chin, about to fall asleep, but was unexpectedly awakened by this request.

She walked over the water, curved her lips, and smiled at the small fish who looked at her expectantly, “You trust me that much? But I’m completely clueless about sword art. Hmm… what should I do?”

The small fish girl only felt her hand being covered by a soft palm, and she was brought into an embrace that exuded a hazy fragrance.

In the blink of an eye, her figure moved with incredible grace, and the blunt wooden sword in her hand seemed to gain life.

With a light strike from the woman behind her, a sword aura seemed to vibrate.

Suddenly, the pink lotuses folded, and turbulent waves surged around them.

For a brief moment, the pool water was split into two halves by the sword light.

“S-so powerful!” The little fish in her arms hugged Chu Zhao’s arm, her eyes shining, “Lord Zhao Zhao, teach me!”

Chu Zhao’s eyes reflected the shimmering water, making them flow. She lowered her head slightly and quietly leaned into the little fish’s ear, “But… I really just swung the sword randomly.”

She pressed her fair finger to her lips, smiled at the girl, and signaled her not to let the secret slip.

The noise behind them grew restless; the small fish all gathered around, only the small fish girl in Chu Zhao’s arms stood still, stunned.

The pool returned to calm, with a gentle breeze occasionally causing ripples.

Chu Zhao stepped off the water, and the fish-dragon guiding the sword art was sitting by the bridge where she had rested earlier, nodding slightly to her, “My Lady.”

Although the other person looked young, there were undeniable signs of hardship and experience in her eyes. Chu Zhao couldn’t help but respond meekly, “Senior, there’s no need for such formality.”

The spring light was beautiful, approaching summer.

Chu Zhao looked at the water marsh not far away. The small fish with different faces chattered endlessly, holding heavy wooden swords, playfully sparring and competing.

For a moment, she felt this scene seemed familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before, on a secluded peak that had been covered in snow for years.

But her memory had always been poor. In her memory, she had been sleeping and recuperating in the Shaking Light Marsh since recovering from a serious illness. Furthermore, she liked warm places and had never seen snow.

It must be a delusion.

“Lord Zhao Zhao’s posture when holding the sword is a bit different from ours. You must not use a sword often?” The fish-dragon beside her looked at her with indulgence and spoke gently.

“But the move just now felt somewhat familiar to me. It seems someone else also had such sword momentum.”

“Who is it?” Chu Zhao’s interest was piqued.

“That person should have been the champion of the past Flower-Plucking Sword Trials,” the fish-dragon recalled, “She concealed her brilliance and name back then, but now, probably no one in the Nine Prefectures doesn’t know her.”

“It is Si Jing, Si Yingzhi, who, three days ago, with a plain sword, single-handedly slew tens of thousands of blood demons in the Silent Sea.”

The name brushed past her ears like flowing water, leaving no trace.

Chu Zhao rested her chin on her hand and thought for a long time, then spoke cheerfully, “Then that must be Senior’s mistake.”

“I don’t know this person.”

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