After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 65

After (Huailang) learned the true meaning of “getting married,” a long time had passed since that day.

Yet, she realized that (Guiji) always understood it in a particular way.

The outwardly cold and indifferent woman, apart from swordsmanship, was more clueless about the common knowledge of the human world than they were.

When  (Jiangyun) crooked her finger, Guiji would step forward, lean down and give her a kiss, and even carefully wipe away any water marks.

The spiritual consciousness residing in the millennium-old Black Iron didn’t understand who these intimate actions should be performed with, yet she complied.

Huailang felt unhappy. That night, she threw a tantrum at Jiangyun, “If you love your sword so much, then just sleep holding her all night!”

She didn’t get the obedient submission she expected from Jiangyun.

Jiangyun had traveled the Nine Provinces with Guiji, met many people Huailang didn’t know, and upon returning to Great Marsh, she told her in a soft voice,

“Ah-Lang.”

“I’m going to form a contract, with… Guiji.”

Behind the woman stood three people.

One, in a green robe and carrying a sword, drank fine wine and spoke airily about opening up a new era for the world, establishing the Nine Provinces’ first Xuanmen (Mystic Sect).

Another woman was gentle and reserved, with a smiling face like a peach blossom, but she ruthlessly poured sobering soup down the former’s throat.

And a delicate girl, shorter than a waist, hid behind the green-robed drunkard, her gaze quietly fixed on Jiangyun.

Suddenly catching sight of Huailang’s terrifying original form underwater, she whimpered, “…Monster fish!”

Jiangyun hugged the little girl, pinching her cheek, “Oh? Then I’m the red monster fish.”

“Ah-Yu saying that makes me feel very sad.”

Huailang didn’t know what had happened during the extremely short span of a few years for a fish-dragon.

As always, she didn’t understand why Jiangyun would choose to form a contract with a sword.

But after personally witnessing Jiangyun wearing a wedding dress and phoenix coronet, with a beaming smile, she merely lowered her eyes gloomily.

Transforming into her human form, she specially put on the goose-yellow dress Jiangyun had given her, forced a smile, and drank the sweet nectar of the wedding wine.

When Jiangyun fell into Guiji’s embrace, the light flowing in her eyes was a sight Huailang had never seen in the Great Marsh.

As long as Jiangyun’s future would always be as joyful as today, that would be enough.

Huailang was genuinely willing.

The wedding feast was held in Central Province, a place Huailang had never been to, during late winter and early spring. The mountain streams were lush and flourishing, and clouds and water merged.

She heard this place was called Yu-Lu Peak.

It was like spring all year round, flowers bloomed everywhere, and it never snowed.

That night, Huailang saw Jiangyun standing on the mountain peak, leaning against the railing and looking far around, her crimson robes fluttering.

Guiji willingly transformed into her original form, carrying her on the sword flight, the crimson sword tassel swaying with the wind.

Jiangyun sat on the sword, holding the scarlet tassel flower Guiji had picked from the warm foothills, swinging her legs as she used to, her smile affectionate.

Suddenly, her body stiffened.

She lowered her head and quietly wiped away the threads of blood that had overflowed, “…Cough.”

Huailang rushed forward in a panic, but only received the woman’s silencing gesture with a finger touching her lips.

Jiangyun smiled, just like when they used to swim and play in the Great Marsh, transmitting a message to her using the unique secret technique of the fish-dragon race.

—I’ll only tell Ah-Lang.

—I gave half of my heart to Guiji.

Huailang stood still in a daze, shaking her head blankly.

She asked, confused, “Why?”

Jiangyun’s voice was clear, looking far into the distance, “Can’t a cold stone have a heart?”

“I insist that she drinks every sweetness and sourness, tastes the extremes of joy and suffering, and experiences the four seasons of the Nine Provinces with me.”

This statement amused herself, she flicked the sword beneath her, and asked with a light laugh, “You won’t blame me, cold stone?”

Playing in the mortal world and following her own desires, Jiangyun was never the docile and self-contained character that Huailang was.

Huailang didn’t understand why it had to be Guiji.

If she also turned into a cold, heartless stone, would Jiangyun like her too?

Huailang would forever regret that night, handing Jiangyun over just like that.

When the pure and elegant Lord Hengwu was scorned as the Demon Lord, and Guiji became the sword that killed its master, she picked up half of a damaged heart in the demon lair called the Silent Sea.

Jiangyun’s soul was scattered, and she could no longer call her “Ah-Lang.”

Warm blood splattered on the cold stone, seemingly blooming into clusters of scarlet tassels.

And behind her,  (Luoyu) spoke:

“Lord Huailang, Guiji is gone, and Jiangyun’s remaining soul needs to be kept under the surveillance of the Xuanmen. I will take her away.”

Huailang turned to look. The immortal cultivator woman stood with her hands clasped, her eyes filled with pity, making her feel utterly unfamiliar.

Luoyu, who used to timidly hide behind others, was no longer the same; she was a new rising star of the Xuanmen, called the “Tidewashing Immortal.”

But why did the bright and joyous woman, who was like the morning glow on that day, have to be steeped in the dark, sunless Sea of Blood, unable to ever return to the Great Marsh?

Tears fell into the Sea of Blood, spreading ripples.

Huailang withdrew from the long memory, feeling cold all over, leaning in the water, her head silently lowered.

The soft body in her arms was currently clutching her shoulder, deeply intoxicated.

(Chuzhao) had already fallen into a hazy dream soon after Huailang began talking about Guiji.

Huailang carried the girl out of the water. Their wet bodies clung tightly, and the scenes of the past and present intermingled, stirring up her secret, improper thoughts.

She placed Chuzhao on the couch, seeing the other party’s eyelashes tremble, seeming to be startled awake and about to open her eyes. She hastily covered the other party’s eyes.

She softly coaxed, “Zhaozhao caught a cold, don’t open your eyes. Ah-Lang will check on you.”

Chuzhao docilely stayed still, her breath warm, her eyelashes brushing against her palm, causing a tingling itch.

Huailang placed her hand on the side of Chuzhao’s face, her fingertip tracing that pink lip.

Her own sense of shame, intertwined with suppressed affection that had been building up for years, finally lost out. Huailang lowered her eyes, her heartstrings taut, letting out a hidden desire.

Guiji could do it, Luoyu could do it, why… couldn’t she?

Huailang’s heart pounded fast, and she leaned down.

But the sound of cloth rubbing came from her ear.

Her shoulder froze, and she slowly stood up, catching a glimpse of a clean, bluish-white Daoist robe in her peripheral vision.

Luoyu was watching everything with interest, not showing any displeasure.

Only when Huailang noticed her did she speak warmly, “I didn’t realize that Lord Huailang also has feelings for Zhaozhao?”

Inside Danyang City.

Demonic energy swirled, obscuring the sky.

(Sijing) sat before a water mirror, wearing a Daoist robe with damaged sleeves. In the gloom, she resembled a jarring scoop of pure, fresh snow.

She murmured, “Huailang.”

The surroundings were silent, simply because the woman had lowered her eyes after seeing something in the mirror just now.

The demonic energy around her fluctuated violently, and without any further action, it eradicated all the demons clinging nearby.

Guiji chuckled softly in the darkness, “Ah-Jing, you also see, Zhaozhao is always lovable.”

Sijing closed her eyes, “Is the matter of Jiangyun forming a contract with you, and then suffering from the master-killing fierce sword, true?”

Guiji did not respond for a long time.

“The world only believes what they want to believe… It’s just hearsay, nothing more.” The woman condensed from blood mist was still laughing, but with a hint of sorrow.

“But you are not the same as me, Ah-Jing,” Guiji whispered next to Sijing’s ear.

“Are you also certain? Certain that it was you who personally dug out Zhaozhao’s demon core.”

Sijing’s long eyelashes trembled.

Guiji pulled out the dagger from her sleeve and sighed softly, “You have shouldered the blame for a long time for someone who stood aloof.”

“You shouldn’t have fallen into the demonic path, reduced to the same state as me.”

Sijing silently looked at Guiji, seeing a hint of pity in her eyes.

She lowered her head and laughed, “What is my relationship with you?”

Guiji took out a memorial pearl from her bosom. The image within flowed, and she placed it in front of Sijing, a faint smile on her face, “You?”

“You are the other side that I stripped away, pure as fresh snow, and ignorant of the world.”

The scene presented in the memorial pearl expanded beyond Huailang’s narrative, gradually unfolding.

The person in the image was still clad in snow-white robes, looking exactly like Sijing. She stood silently in front of the pearl, her long eyelashes lowered in shyness.

She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling flustered by the strange throbbing beneath her fingertips, her ears burning red.

How could a millennium-old Black Iron, lonely and steeped in a sea of blood, ever imagine that on a certain day, at a certain time, she would also have a heart?

“I… formed a contract with Jiangyun,” she whispered to the memorial pearl.

“For the rest of my life, through the rotation of the four seasons, I wish to accompany her always.”

The woman who took her away from the sea of blood, bright as the morning glow, promised her freedom and gave her a love that was almost intoxicating.

She was no longer a lifeless object passing her days in emptiness; the moment she was given a name, she completely belonged to Jiangyun.

“What are you muttering about?” The snowy color was enveloped by a vivid splash of color, and the image suddenly became unstable.

“Is this the token of love you’re giving me?” The newcomer curiously flicked the memorial pearl.

Sijing gazed blankly.

Jiangyun’s face appeared in the image. Her appearance was strikingly beautiful, and her crimson almond-shaped eyes held a golden light.

The way she smiled, with her lips raised, was so similar to the current Chuzhao.

She recalled the desolate Yu-Lu Peak, where the little fish was wearing the ice bracelet, its scales shimmering, its round eyes shy.

It asked happily, “Is this a token of love for Ah-Chu?”

Sijing instinctively reached out her hand, but only touched the illusory light of the memorial pearl.

Guiji stroked the side of her face, wiping away the crimson tear streaks for her.

She sighed softly, her hand sweeping over the water mirror that reflected Chuzhao’s current situation.

The scene changed, arriving at the Kunlun Abyss in the Northern Province.

Chuzhao was led by a woman with the air of a noble immortal, walking step by step through the main hall and inner chambers, accepting the scrutiny of countless gazes.

She was dressed in a beautifully embroidered wedding dress, her face flushed with shyness, and she watched as a jade bangle was slipped onto her wrist as an engagement gift.

She was shy and bashful, yet she was calling out to someone else, “…Ah-Yu.”

“If I remember correctly, in a few days, Luoyu will hold the wedding ceremony with Zhaozhao in the Northern Province,” Guiji spoke. “Ah-Jing, what are you going to do?”

Sijing’s body began to tremble, her eyes blood-red, her heart gnawed by pain.

The little fish that she could only briefly glimpse through the illusion she constructed with demonic energy was about to form a contract with someone else.

A feather suddenly appeared in her embrace; it was the invitation for the wedding ceremony a few days later.

Guiji curved her lips, resting her hands on Sijing’s slender shoulders.

“How about, we go together and snatch Zhaozhao back from Luoyu?”

Chuzhao was staying on the Serene Peak of Kunlun Abyss, carefully taking off the phoenix coronet she had tried on.

Although she didn’t know why Luoyu had moved up the date of the contract ceremony, the feeling of being watched by something cold and damp had significantly subsided since the woman brought her to Kunlun Abyss.

She lay in Luoyu’s arms, her temples being gently massaged by delicate fingertips. She closed her eyes comfortably.

“Zhaozhao is always waking up startled at night, is there something on your mind?” Luoyu asked gently.

“I, I keep having bad dreams,” Chuzhao replied helplessly.

Luoyu was attentive again, just like when they first met. Chuzhao’s guard against the woman was almost non-existent, and she quietly recounted the dreams where she was bullied by the two bad demon cultivators.

The woman was silent for a long time.

“Then… Zhaozhao,” Luoyu parted her hair. “Do you want to completely forget these scenes that cause you distress?”

Chuzhao slightly opened her eyes, “Can Ah-Yu help me?”

“Of course.” Luoyu showed a hint of a smile.

Chuzhao complied, lying down in the woman’s arms. The scent of a soothing incense wafted over her, her eyelids grew heavy, and she fell into a tired sleep.

And Luoyu’s fingertip gently hooked a thin thread from the girl’s chest.

It wrapped softly around her finger bone, the color a scarlet from the heart’s blood.

Is this… Zhaozhao’s thread of affection?

Luoyu tenderly stroked it, pulling out the thread of affection little by little. A smile climbed to her lips, and a suppressed desire surfaced in her eyes.

If she tied her thread of affection with Zhaozhao’s.

Would Zhaozhao never fall for anyone else again?

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