After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 53.1

“Gui Ji…?” The person in her arms didn’t seem fully awake, mistaking her for someone in a dream, her voice hazy as she softly called out the name.

Soft arms hooked around the neck of the woman in front of her, completely unguarded, practically inviting capture.

Gui Ji’s heart trembled, and the knuckles of the fingers gripping Chu Zhao’s waist slowly tightened.

Separated by a thin layer of blood mist, she lowered her gaze, imprinting the appearance of the person on the couch into her mind, her expression infatuated.

The person before her was no longer the innocent young girl she had known in the past; her face was beautiful and graceful, and her figure was supple and charming.

The contours of her eyebrows and eyes resembled Jiang Yun from her memories more and more.

Chu Zhao vaguely felt suffocated, but the skin she was embracing felt cool, making her imagine she was back in the depths of the mirror lake from her dream.

She lightly pecked the corner of the woman’s lips, struggling to catch her breath, “Kiss, kiss me…”

Gui Ji smiled.

She knew that Zhao Zhao had once again mistaken her for someone else.

But what did it matter?

She was the one who found Zhao Zhao first, not some Si Jing.

She pushed aside the stray hairs on the face of the person beneath her, her movements gentle and restrained, almost perfectly replicating the person in Chu Zhao’s memory, “Be good, Zhao Zhao, open your robes, alright?”

As long as Zhao Zhao liked it, she could imitate anyone.

If she stopped liking Si Jing, then… Huai Lang, or even Luo Yu, whom she utterly detested, she could learn to be like them too.

Chu Zhao, as expected, seemed to be tempted by her tender tone. Her eyelashes were heavy-lidded as she untied her already thin nightgown, exposing her slender, snow-white neck and delicate collarbone, which glowed brightly even in the dim light.

Suddenly, she bit her lip and tilted her chin up, letting out a soft moan from the unexpected breath that brushed against her.

A damp coolness covered her neck hollow, meandering and teasing, finally lingering around the small vermilion mole, gently rubbing and licking it.

“Gui Ji, ngh…?”

She wanted to curl up, but her limbs seemed to be entangled by unsubstantial mist.

The woman was like a cold, wet serpent demon that had been lurking in the darkness, dragging her into an abyss of inescapable passion.

Chu Zhao was utterly helpless. She had never experienced this feeling before, as if she was being lifted to the clouds only to fall heavily the next moment, making her shiver and want to beg for mercy.

The dark-robed woman’s hair was damp, brushing against her sensitive exposed skin, making it particularly itchy. She felt like she was being devoured by a sinister sea demon from the deep ocean and couldn’t help but whimper and retreat.

She didn’t understand why the person in her dream—weak, gentle, and as tender as fine snow—had suddenly transformed into this current appearance.

Was she angry that she had mistaken her for someone else?

Instinctively, she reached out to push, but her fingertips became tangled in the intertwined strands of hair, feeling more like she was plunging into an ethereal mist.

Gui Ji raised her head, her crimson eyes holding a hint of tenderness. Her lips were moist, and she weakly called out, “…Zhao Zhao.”

She had fallen to the demonic path so long ago. After falling into the Submerged Sea more than a hundred years ago, not even her bones remained.

She could not show herself in the sunlight and could only rely on others to survive.

Beneath the veil covering her face was nothing more than a flickering mass of blood mist.

Only by forcefully activating her demonic energy could she barely materialize limbs, a soft voice, and the appearance the girl was so fond of.

But a fake is always a fake.

After her demonic energy weakened, her body was about to dissipate, and Zhao Zhao could barely even touch her anymore.

Gui Ji caressed Chu Zhao’s distracted, flushed cheek and bent down, whispering like a lover, “Zhao Zhao, do you still like it?”

Do you like… her.

She just thought that after being trapped in the time-distorted Submerged Sea for tens of thousands of years, even a moment of the girl’s recollection would be worthwhile.

Even though the other person had long forgotten their time spent together, and she could only relive it through a memory orb alone.

The light outside the window flickered. The few disciples she had casually eliminated at the gate when she infiltrated Kunlun Void tonight had been discovered.

The hypocritical Immortal Master Zhuo Qing would probably be returning soon.

Gui Ji gently rubbed the small nodule on the lip of the person beneath her, softly enticing, “Zhao Zhao, do you want me to kiss you again?”

Chu Zhao was still immersed in the tremor from just now. Gui Ji curved her lips and enveloped Chu Zhao’s, gently prying open her teeth and passing something through.

It was the Love Gu she had obtained from Southern Xinjiang.

Even if she was just a demon supported by blood mist, even if Luo Yu ridiculously wanted to form a bond with Zhao Zhao, so what?

Zhao Zhao and she were intertwined by the Love Gu; she would never forget her or be separated from her again.

With just a flicker of her mind, she could sense the girl’s location, and moreover, the Love Gu required detoxification once a month.

She would come again.

Gui Ji gazed at the beautiful and charming person for a long time with affection before her body vanished into the churning blood mist.

The mist lingered for a moment on Chu Zhao’s exposed fingertips before disappearing into the darkness.

The room door was pushed open and then gently closed.

Luo Yu entered the sleeping chamber with an indiscernible expression after being away for about half an hour.

She lowered her eyes in silence for a moment before raising her hand to remove her outer robe.

Just now, four of the night-watch disciples on her Jingjing Peak in Kunlun Void had died inexplicably.

Upon investigation, she discovered shallow sword marks on the disciples’ necks. Though not easily noticeable on the surface, the methods were vicious and ruthless.

They looked strikingly familiar, like… Gui Ji’s.

Luo Yu didn’t take it to heart, her expression nonchalant, tinged with a flicker of added interest.

As if observing a former plaything under her control.

As for those disciples, they were dead, and that was that. She would simply announce that they had met with an accident while attempting to break through a boundary.

Luo Yu changed into a sheer silk undershirt, her gaze falling upon the sleeping figure behind the gauze curtain, finally softening a little.

She approached quietly, lifted the curtain, and intended to call out, “Zhao Zhao.”

But she unexpectedly caught sight of the marks on the girl’s side neck.

Chu Zhao’s eyelashes were damp, her pale lips were ravaged to a reddish hue, and beside the vermilion mark at the curve of her collarbone, a notably obvious plum-blossom kiss mark was left behind.

It seemed like a provocation.

Luo Yu’s gaze lowered, and the knuckles in her sleeve slowly tightened.

Her usually perfectly restrained expression was tinged with a hint of coldness.

The next day, Chu Zhao awoke in Luo Yu’s sleeping chamber.

Jingjing Peak lived up to its name; she hadn’t heard the noisy chirping of the cicadas like in Yaoguang Marsh all night and had slept very soundly.

Except…

She seemed to have had a long, restless, heart-racing dream.

A beauty whose name she had forgotten confined her in an embrace, insatiably lingering and demanding, making her lose control and nearly whimper in plea.

Chu Zhao’s waist felt weak, and her bones ached. She bit her lip to manage to sit up.

The heavy gauze curtain in front of her was lifted, and a hand sculpted like jade reached in. She looked up and instantly met Luo Yu’s eyes.

The woman’s attire was also somewhat disheveled, still wearing the sheer silk undershirt that made her face burn, and her neck bore scattered, suspicious red marks.

Luo Yu composedly asked, “Zhao Zhao, according to the tradition of the Yu-Long Clan, should we bathe together now?”

Only after forming a bond could one bathe in the same pool of water as their partner.

Chu Zhao’s ears grew even hotter.

Could it be that the person she had entangled with in her dream last night was Luo Yu?

Dazed, she was led by Luo Yu to a pool of suitably warm, shallow water indoors, where she was embraced around the waist.

The woman’s fingertips behind her were soft. They glided over the curve of her collarbone, casting a cleansing spell, seemingly intending to erase something.

“Zhao Zhao, last night…” the woman’s voice was low.

“A’Yu, I, I will take responsibility for you,” Chu Zhao interrupted her, her voice mumbling.

Although she knew that in Yaoguang Marsh, once one reached a certain age, the clan would select suitable partners and arrange meetings.

She never expected that after only meeting Luo Yu once, she would commit such a transgression.

Luo Yu chuckled upon hearing her words, “Alright, I’ll wait for Zhao Zhao.”

The little fish was innocent and naive. With just a few words of guidance, she had already willingly fallen into her trap.

Soon… everyone in the Nine Provinces would know about her impending bond with Zhao Zhao.

“What kind of betrothal gift do you want, Zhao Zhao?” Luo Yu leaned into Chu Zhao’s ear, asking softly, noting that the girl was hunching her shoulders, seemingly very shy.

“There are gifts too?” Chu Zhao’s eyes widened, asking helplessly.

She was the one who had taken advantage of the Kunlun Void Sect Leader in front of her last night, so why were there rewards?

Luo Yu smiled and nodded.

“Then…” Chu Zhao hesitated for a moment, “A’Chu wants to learn swordsmanship, is that possible? The sword A’Lang gave me was left in Yaoguang Marsh, I want a new one.”

The fragmented scenes from the dream gradually coalesced into vague and unclear words.

“Gui Ji,” Chu Zhao murmured the name.

“A’Yu, A’Yu, you are a sword cultivator, have you ever heard of a sword with that name?”

She felt as though she had heard someone mention it before—that it was a very powerful sword.

But she… seemed to have lost the sword and could not recall it no matter how hard she tried.

The woman who had been speaking so tenderly behind her did not respond for a long time.

“A’Yu?” Chu Zhao looked back expectantly, but a sudden somberness flashed across Luo Yu’s face.

“I have heard of it, Zhao Zhao,” the woman finally replied in a soft voice when she saw Chu Zhao looking at her.

“This sword once passed through my hands, but it is said to have been taken into the Submerged Sea and has long been completely corroded by demonic energy. How could it be used as a betrothal gift?”

Chu Zhao’s heart suddenly felt empty.

In her dream, Gui Ji seemed to transform into elusive, intangible mist, wrapping around her fingertips and saying she had waited ten thousand years for her.

“If Zhao Zhao wants a good sword, why don’t we, before we form the bond,” Luo Yu suggested gently.

“Take a trip to Xizhou?”

Support