After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 62

The scattered cultivators’ whispers beside her became ice shards piercing her heart.

Si Jing stood alone, a complete misfit, yet the curve of her lips widened. Her shoulders trembled, and she gradually burst into laughter.

A perfect match.

She and Zhaozhao were meant to be the most perfect match.

Her pure and beautiful posture, with her eyes covered by a piece of snow-white cloth, had already attracted many people’s attention. Her strange behavior now drew worried sidelong glances from those nearby.

They asked if demonic energy had entered her body, causing discomfort.

“…Yes,” Si Jing looked up, the white cloth already soaked with bloody tears. She softly lifted her lips, “Does this fellow Daoist also wish to try this taste?”

The person’s face was filled with horror, but it was too late.

Demonic energy entered their body. Just like the night-watch immortal cultivators on Danyong City, a crimson stain instantly blossomed on their throat, and they softly collapsed to the ground.

“She is a demon!”

“She is a demon disguised as a sword cultivator!”

Si Jing casually flicked her fingertip, and several people near her exploded.

She walked slowly forward. The crowd made way for an empty space, and gazes of dread and fear enveloped her.

The blood mist wafting towards her sleeves. She lowered her eyes to look, gave a gentle shake, and her robe became clean and immaculate again.

She remembered… Zhaozhao liked her in white.

“Exploding bodies, the extent of her manipulation of demonic energy makes me spontaneously recall the tragedy of Yu Yu in Beizhou.”

“What, what connection does she have with the Demon Venerable Jiangyun?”

Si Jing paid no heed, continuing forward. Countless waves of demonic energy surging within the city gently wrapped around her, all docile.

She ignored the demons that seemed to have a flattering posture and merely silently recited the sword-riding incantation.

The plain sword at her waist did not heed her call, but the blood mist solidified into a long sword with sleek, sharp, and exquisite lines.

“Gui Ji?”

“How can that wicked sword be in her hands…”

Si Jing paused, and Gui Ji had already flown into her palm.

At the same time, a voice similar to hers sounded in her ear, “A-Jing, originally I wanted to tell you about Zhaozhao’s marriage contract.”

“But if I want you to willingly work for me, how can it work without you seeing it with your own eyes?”

Gui Ji seemed very pleased, its tone intimate, “Now, we are accomplices.”

Si Jing’s knuckles gripping the hilt of the sword were white, yet her face showed nothing.

She forced a slight smile and spoke, “…Alright.”

However, how could she share Zhaozhao with anyone else?

Afterward, she could not guarantee whether Gui Ji would still be able to exist in this world.

Raising her hand to sever the demonic energy connection with Gui Ji, Si Jing forcefully activated the sword-riding incantation.

Without mercy, she stepped onto Gui Ji. The long sword lifted her into the air, soaring to be level with Luo Yu’s line of sight.

Her vision was already obscured by the damp white cloth covering her eyes. Si Jing raised her hand, unhurriedly untying it from the back of her head, letting the soft cloth strip drift away with the wind.

She suppressed the demonic pattern in her eyes, looking towards the crimson figure hiding behind Luo Yu. Her gaze was gentle and harmless as she called out, “Zhaozhao?”

“Do you… not recognize me anymore.”

“Who is that person…” On the ground, a scattered cultivator from Beizhou gasped.

“Si Jing, Si Yingzhi?”

“The one who was once the junior martial niece of the Pure Maiden Immortal, exceptional in both root and sword technique, and survived a half-month stay in the Immersed Sea completely unscathed?”

“How can you call it completely unscathed?” someone lamented, their tone clearly conveying disgust, “She… has fallen into the demonic path.”

“Moreover, she has committed numerous murders in Nanjiang, Kunlun Ruins, and now Danyong City.”

“The magnificent sword cultivator from the Blood Jade disaster, now fallen to this extent.”

“Wielding the wicked sword Gui Ji, her moves are similar to that Fish Demon before. The abandoned demon palace beneath the Immersed Sea has been vacant for a hundred years.”

“Could it be Si Jing…”

Xue Chi arrived a step late, mingling in the chaotic crowd, looking up.

Unusually clear-headed, she slightly pursed her lips, remaining silent.

Seeing the red silk in Si Jing’s left palm, numerous speculative words entered her ears. For a moment, it felt like a return to a hundred years ago, the day the newly flourishing Xuanmen Sects attacked Jiangyun.

Only this time, the crowd had indeed not mistaken the Demon Venerable.

“Yingzhi, you’ve come?” Luo Yu took a step forward, smiling with pity, “Are you also here to help Kunlun Ruins quell the demonic chaos in Danyong City?”

Her voice was soft and gentle, but subtly meaningful, as if mocking her previous actions in Beizhou.

Si Jing did not answer.

She lowered her eyelids, urged her sword forward. In her entire field of vision, only that faintly visible crimson remained.

Maintaining a low and gentle voice, she untied the red silk that had once wrapped her wound, using a harmless posture to coax the hiding little fish, “Zhaozhao, look, what is this?”

“…My wound is completely healed now. I must thank you for bandaging me.”

Si Jing did not know if Chu Zhao still recognized her.

But the few days they sheltered in the stone cave, the tenderness in the rain had long turned into countless little fish carvings on her forearm, forever etched into her heart.

She activated a Xuanmen sword technique, almost weeping blood, standing barely a few arms’ length from the crimson skirt, “Zhaozhao, look at Jing Si, alright?”

The few immortal cultivators clustered around Luo Yu, sensing the rising hostility from the snow-robed woman, activated their techniques, unleashing an attack that could not be underestimated.

Si Jing weakly curved her lips.

In the brilliant sword light, she glimpsed a pair of apricot eyes reflected in the sword’s mirror-like surface—confused, flustered, and fearful.

Was the little fish afraid of her, or afraid of her getting hurt?

The cold sword instantly pierced the woman’s fragile body. Si Jing’s face was pale. She looked at the sword tip protruding from her chest, covered her front, and coughed up blood weakly.

A rosy blush spread at the corners of her peach blossom eyes. She weakly called out, “Zhaozhao.”

“…Zhaozhao, it hurts.”

The surrounding whispers rose and fell, filled with surprise and cheers. Si Jing ignored them completely, her gaze fixed only on the half of Chu Zhao’s face that was visible.

She wanted to capture even a sliver of pity or distress from those pink jade eyes.

But all she saw was the girl clenching her fingers, clinging even tighter to Luo Yu’s arm.

Utterly helpless, she softly called, “A-Yu.”

“Are you a demon?” Chu Zhao’s eyes flickered, daring to ask, “The demon cultivator called… Si Jing.”

Si Jing lowered her eyelids.

Her peripheral vision captured the intimate sight of the two people in front of her, and blood mist gathered in her eyes.

She let out a low laugh, deliberately avoiding the question, merely raising her hand to lightly snap the sword in her chest and discard it.

The wound pierced by a Nascent Soul stage cultivator quickly healed, filled by demonic energy.

The scattered cultivators who were cheering moments ago in the distance fell silent abruptly.

Si Jing took a few steps forward, softly murmuring, “Zhaozhao, why don’t you call me ‘Zhi Zhi’ anymore?”

Chu Zhao bit her lip, feeling as if she were being exposed by a damp, cold mist, with nowhere to hide.

“But,” she shook her head blankly, “I… I don’t recognize you.”

“Yingzhi, that’s enough.” Luo Yu raised her sleeve to shield Chu Zhao.

“If you are willing to withdraw the demonic energy from Danyong City, I can invite you to the marriage ceremony I and Zhaozhao will have at Kunlun Ruins in half a month.”

The surrounding scattered cultivators were all sighing.

“The Pure Maiden Immortal is still too soft-hearted.”

“How can this twisted, fallen demon cultivator be allowed to cause chaos in the world?”

“Cleanse the sect!”

Si Jing’s figure was slender, her beautiful face stained with a hint of seductive charm, “Did Martial Uncle make a mistake?”

“Zhaozhao already has a marriage contract with Yingzhi. Why… would she have a Hejin marriage ceremony with you?”

Luo Yu smiled gently, still appearing calm and composed.

After a moment of contemplation, she asked Chu Zhao, who was hiding behind her, “Zhaozhao, is that truly so?”

Chu Zhao’s eyes widened. She glanced helplessly at Si Jing, then lowered her head, avoiding the woman’s gaze, which contained surging affection and made her fearful, “I… I don’t remember.”

She clearly had never made a marriage contract with anyone.

Since meeting Luo Yu in Yaoguang Marsh, getting to know each other, and setting the wedding date, she had not been entangled with anyone else.

Si Jing sadly lifted her lips.

A crushing, agonizing pain came from her chest. She tried to open her mouth but could not speak.

The girl’s voice was soft, laced with the innocent confusion she craved, yet it felt like countless tiny thorns pricking her heart.

She did not understand. The little fish had allowed her to hold her to sleep the night before. Why now, she refused even to admit they had met.

Chu Zhao heard a dripping sound by her ear. She looked over in a daze. The white-robed woman’s hair hung loose, and crimson liquid dripped down her cheek.

Yet, the corners of her lips were lifted high. She called out again and again, “…Zhaozhao.”

“Zhaozhao, Zhaozhao.”

“Why, why did you only forget me?”

The sky over Danyong City was dark. Soon, the rain poured down.

The demons rampaging through the city seemed to sense something. Their hostility surged, becoming increasingly difficult to deal with. The hundreds of Kunlun Ruins disciples with subtle cultivation levels now struggled to hold on.

Si Jing stood alone on the sword. Her snow-white robe was gradually soaked with blood rain. She lifted her peach blossom eyes, her lashes wet, carrying a hint of upheaval and distress.

Just before her figure was swallowed by the demonic energy, she still curved a smile towards Chu Zhao.

From a long distance, Chu Zhao still heard the woman’s gentle voice in her ear.

“Zhaozhao, you will remember me. Always, you always will.”

“When the time comes, we will have our Hejin ceremony right here in Danyong City… Will that be alright?”

Chu Zhao frantically covered her ears.

But the raging demonic energy uniquely bypassed her. Only a cool, damp trace of blood mist grazed the back of her hand.

It felt like the demon cultivator’s slightly cold lips touched and withdrew.

“Si Jing, she… she can actually change the weather with her own power? Has her current cultivation level surpassed even the Pure Maiden Immortal?”

“Following the demise of Jiangyun, could the new Demon Venerable be…”

Inside Danyong City, the discussions were tumultuous.

Luo Yu’s face showed a hint of interest.

She hugged Chu Zhao’s waist, coaxing, “Zhaozhao, are you scared? A-Yu won’t let you encounter a demon cultivator like that again in the future.”

Chu Zhao, however, lowered her head and gripped her sleeve.

Her eyes showed hesitation, and a hidden trace of stubbornness, “A-Yu.”

“Did the demon cultivator named Si Jing truly know me?”

She saw the red silk wrapped around the woman’s palm, and the Gui Ji sword she held.

It made her… feel so familiar.

Chu Zhao did not get an answer.

After being drenched by the blood rain in Danyong City, she was startled. She slept heavily for a while, and when she woke up, she was already in her own Dream Shrine in Yaoguang Marsh.

Pushing the door open, Chu Zhao deliberately avoided the clan members nearby. She went alone to a quiet small pond, allowing the gentle waves to immerse her.

She heard people discussing nearby, saying that Xizhou showed signs of demonic energy encroachment, and the border city of Danyong had become an extension of the Immersed Sea, a terrifying demon lair.

Chu Zhao submerged herself in the warm water, her voice muffled by the rippling.

She recalled Si Jing’s desolate smile towards her in the rain, saying they would have their marriage contract in Danyong City.

The woman’s frail body was soaked by the rain. Although her appearance was cold and detached, her eyes held a trace of possessiveness, an urge to trap her.

A stifling feeling in her chest. Chu Zhao quickly got out of the water. Suddenly, a dewdrop rolled down from a tilted lotus leaf and landed on the back of her hand.

She was startled.

The cold water bead trickled down, much like the day Si Jing used blood mist to outline her hand, making her feel a sense of being watched.

Chu Zhao emerged from the water and realized in a trance that the tender pink lotus, which had been facing away from her, had now turned towards her.

Its stamens were soft, swaying gracefully in the breeze.

She bit her lip, and that strange feeling surged up in her heart again.

Wringing her clothes, she hastily fled barefoot.

The journey was strangely quiet.

The small fish fry Chu Zhao remembered playing in the shallows were gone. A gentle breeze blew, and a snow butterfly rested on a flower-guarding bell.

It faced her, its thin wings fluttering, light and airy.

She felt cold all over. She quietly backed away, her fingers already clenched red. Her intuition told her that something was not right.

The snow butterfly did not follow. Chu Zhao hid behind a large lotus leaf, observing repeatedly, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

She was almost back at the Dream Shrine. She suppressed her movements but suddenly came face-to-face with a figure turning the corner.

It was a slender woman with a long jade horn on her forehead, her appearance indistinguishable from a regular Fish-Dragon.

Chu Zhao thought she had been caught sneaking out by a clan member. She was about to muddle through the other person’s respectful “Adult Zhaozhao,” but she looked up and suddenly froze.

A chill crept up her heart, section by section.

The Fish-Dragon’s eyes were an even deeper crimson than hers. She was slightly taller and did not call her “Young Mistress.”

She lowered her gaze, smiling gently at her as if possessed.

Chu Zhao’s shoulders trembled. She shoved the person in front of her fiercely, escaping past the side where the other was unprepared.

She returned to her resting place, put several restraints on the door latch, and curled up weakly by the door, her chest heaving.

Her eyelashes quickly became moist.

But when she saw something in the room, she covered her arms tightly in panic.

It was an exceptionally beautiful sword.

It was the Gui Ji she had seen in Danyong City…

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