After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 66

Kunlun Void was shrouded in white mist, with immortal cranes and auspicious clouds, presenting the scene of a prominent sect.

The disciples checking the wedding invitations at the entrance would know the identity of the guest by twirling the feather.

Those with more respected statuses would even be escorted and welcomed by several disciples.

An inner disciple received a handed-over feather and surveyed the person before her.

The woman wore a simple, unadorned white Taoist robe, her face concealed by a veil, with only her clear, bright eyes visible. She remained silent.

She should be a sword cultivator.

The disciple injected a thread of spiritual power into the feather and deduced the woman’s name.

Bo Kunyao, from the Palace of Questioning Love in Central Province.

But wasn’t the Palace of Questioning Love a notorious branch of the Dual Cultivation Path? Could such a cold, transcendent woman actually practice the Dual Cultivation Path?

“Is there a problem?” The woman’s gaze fell upon her, her voice like cool jade striking stone.

The disciple, an outer gate keeper of Kunlun Void, helplessly looked back, but the senior disciple who had been at her side had long since disappeared.

She could only wipe the non-existent sweat from her forehead and softly reply, “No problem, Fellow Daoist Bo, please enter.”

She was only at the Foundation Establishment stage, and the person before her was at a much higher realm. Just a glance from her carried an intimidating aura.

The woman named Bo Kunyao took back the feather, no longer looked at her, and merely nodded.

She was not someone worthy of respect, so no one came to escort her. Carrying her sword, her figure merged into the white mist of Kunlun Void, and in a few breaths, she could no longer be found.

The disciple, however, felt a chill run down her spine.

She lowered her head and saw that frost was spreading on her fingertips.

The cold air had entered her body through the feather. She dared not imagine how cold the woman’s body temperature actually was.

Suddenly, a commotion arose in the distance.

A woman with hair like dark clouds and charming eyes fumbled around her body, her phoenix eyes showing panic, “My… where is my invitation?”

Her beauty was stunning, her looks highly aggressive, but at this moment, she displayed a hint of vulnerability just right, drawing the attention of others.

Bo Kunyao bit her lips until they turned red, but secretly clenched her fingers within her sleeve.

This was the only invitation the Palace of Questioning Love had. She had to coax the palace master into giving it to her. Her original intention was to come to Kunlun Void to see for herself whether Si Jing, who had already fallen into the demonic path, would show up.

Who knew that a figure remarkably similar to Si Jing had just brushed past her side? She chased forward a few steps, but the woman melted into the mist, and could no longer be seen.

Someone stepped forward to ask, “Fellow Daoist, which sect are you from? Perhaps I can help you look for it?”

Bo Kunyao’s eyes flickered. Just as she was about to agree and then use some means to snatch this person’s invitation to sneak into Kunlun Void…

But a glimpse of her peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of that snow-colored figure in the mist.

Si Jing’s gaze was indifferent, fixed on her lapel.

Was she showing off to her?

Bo Kunyao angrily straightened her lapel, only to suddenly touch a feather that had been lost and found again.

She curled her lips, pushed away the kind offer of the cultivator with a seductive voice, gracefully walked to the entrance, and presented the feather.

The world said that those who fell into the demonic path would lose their clear mind, live in fleeting, chaotic illusions, like walking corpses.

Did Si Jing still recognize her?

The disciple took the feather from Bo Kunyao’s hand. After a brief inspection, her face instantly turned pale, and she retreated in panic.

“Jing, Jingsi…?”

Who in Kyushu didn’t know now that Jingsi was Si Jing, the demon cultivator who massacred Danyang City, whose cultivation was unfathomable, and whose reputation was notorious.

Furthermore, the information within the feather provocatively read, “Deep Silence Sea, Jingsi.”

Bo Kunyao’s body stiffened.

She wanted to retreat, but in a few breaths, several people from Kunlun Void, whose realms were not below hers, had heavily surrounded her.

And when she looked up again, the woman who had appeared like a phantom in the thin mist, with an aloof face, had long since disappeared.

“…Si Yingzhi, well, well done.” Bo Kunyao was so angry she laughed.

Having fallen into the demonic path, she was indeed not as dull and reserved as before. She had actually been tricked completely.

She drew her sword, barely blocked a few sword strikes, and with an agile posture, broke through the encirclement of the Xuanmen cultivators.

“Hiccup.” In the crowd, a figure in crow-green watched Bo Kunyao disappear, her vision hazy. “…Who was that?”

How could she be seeing things, seeing the little butterfly girl from Neighboring Peak’s Palace of Questioning Love also come?

Shaking her head, Su Xue quickly forgot about the matter before her. She took a few steps forward, smilingly presenting her invitation, “I am the Sect Master of Cloud Water Stream, Su Xue.”

How could she miss her junior sister’s (contract/marriage) ceremony?

Besides, her good little apprentice would definitely be coming too.

…

Si Jing moved through the Xuanmen people, walking quietly with lowered eyes.

Gui Ji, inside her body, laughed slyly and cunningly, “Ah Jing, you have good methods. So… you had already discovered the little surprise I prepared for you in the invitation?”

“Shut up,” Si Jing retorted in a low voice, a hint of coldness flashing in her eyes.

She had long known that if she was the clear side, Gui Ji was her foul and dirty other side.

Having fallen into the demonic path for thousands of years, her original body had merged with the ominous sword of the Deep Silence Sea. How could she be kind enough to easily help her find Zhaozhao?

Gui Ji, adhering to her, remained silent for a while obediently.

Watching Si Jing sit down, her posture dignified, her appearance completely inconsistent with the three characters “Bo Kunyao” written in vermillion on the table, she asked with a smile:

“It’s just that I’m a little curious. Bo Kunyao has little interaction with you, only harboring the thought of competing with you. Why target her like this?”

Si Jing poured half a cup of wine, sipping it in small amounts, not responding.

“Ah Jing, don’t forget, I am also you, and I can read your thoughts,” Gui Ji said leisurely.

Not knowing what she read, she hummed, drawing out the sound, “The thing that makes you most resentful is… Bo Kunyao touching the naive and adorable little red fish in the vat at the inn in North Province?”

Gui Ji laughed heartily in the chest of the reticent woman.

If Ah Jing knew that she had already bound her and Zhaozhao with a love curse, how would she deal with herself?

Si Jing tightened her grip on the wine cup.

The blood mist was ethereal and elusive, yet she could not read Gui Ji’s thoughts.

“There is another reason,” she lowered her long lashes, staring at the ripples in the cup.

“You once said you wanted to kill Luo Yu and slaughter Kunlun Void.”

Gui Ji pondered for a moment and then burst into laughter.

The current time is Tuesday, October 14, 2025 at 11:04:20 AM PST.

“Therefore, I don’t want those who are unrelated to this matter, such as Bo Kunyao and her like, to step into Kunlun Void, to avoid accidental injury.”

Her Ah Jing was still too kind, so kind that… she didn’t resemble a demon cultivator who walked the path of slaughter.

“But, setting today aside, many familiar faces have come to Kunlun Void,” Gui Ji saw many people through Si Jing’s eyes.

Su Xue, a little drunk and hazy, not far away, and Huaining, who appeared as a broken branch in her arms.

On the cloud platform, there was Huailang, constantly worried.

“Ah Jing,” her voice seemed to fall by Si Jing’s ear, “after a while, when Zhaozhao shows up, can you still maintain your composure as you do now?”

“Don’t forget, you are here to rob the marriage.”

Dark hair obscured her expression. Si Jing set down the wine cup, a long-suppressed flush of crimson flashing in her eyes.

“Can I sit here?” A figure arrived on a cloud.

It was a little girl, only up to a person’s waist, with an off-white scaled tail growing behind her skirt. She was panting, “I was dealing with clan matters today, huff… I’m not too late, am I?”

Si Jing tidied her skirt, making room beside her for the young girl.

“Thank you, Fellow Daoist!” The girl looked quite young and her voice was tender. “My name is Bei Yue, what should I call you, Fellow Daoist?”

Bei Yue?

Si Jing’s faint lips curved under the white veil.

She replied, “Bo Kunyao.”

She had cast a spell on her appearance, blurring her facial features so that passersby would forget her upon seeing her.

“Fellow Daoist Bo must be a sword cultivator.” Bei Yue truly didn’t pay attention to her looks, only noticing her sword.

“We Fish Dragons are not good at using swords, but Elder Zhaozhao, who is our Young Master, has a highly sensitive physique that is friendly to all swords and possesses exceptional talent in swordsmanship!”

“I wonder if Fellow Daoist Bo knows Young Master. Presumably, in a little while, she will…” The little Fish Dragon was very talkative.

“I know her,” Si Jing suddenly spoke.

Her gaze fell upon Bei Yue’s face, seeming to look at someone behind her through her features.

Finally, she moved her gaze away. “I have known the Young Master of the Fish Dragon Clan for a long time.”

Hidden behind the veil, Si Jing smiled silently, perhaps thinking of something, a faint light passing over her fingertips.

She handed over the jade ring carved into a snapdragon flower, “Bei Yue, this is the gift I chose for the Young Master. Why don’t you present it?”

Her gaze, however, was already directed into the distance. A moment later, towards the elevated platform where Yin Qun’s figure would appear once the wedding ceremony began.

“If it cannot be delivered into the Young Master’s hands,” Si Jing’s lips curled into an arc, pointedly.

“Then take it for Huailang to see.”

…

Zhuo Zhao sat in front of the dressing mirror, looking up at herself in the reflection.

She wanted to raise her hand to curiously touch the pearls and jade dangling from her head, but her fingers were loosely held by the person behind her.

“A-Yu?” She smiled, calling obediently.

Luo Yu held her hand and led her to stand up, speaking softly, “It’s time to go.”

She was mesmerized by the young girl’s adorned appearance before her, but she also keenly sensed that Zhaozhao, after having her threads of emotion removed, was not as lively as before.

Although she still held a naive yearning for everything, when facing matters of affection, she was like stagnant water that raised no ripples, ignorant and unaware.

Now, she was only willing to cooperate because of Luo Yu’s identity as her contracted partner.

This is enough, Luo Yu thought.

Zhaozhao would never remember any past related to Si Jing, only remembering her, becoming her possession alone.

She would slowly, little by little, teach the little fish… the things that partners should do.

Zhuo Zhao walked a few steps ahead of her, hopefully pulling open the curtain, looking outside, and joyfully exclaiming, “Wow.”

The quiet sect was now draped with red silk.

The clouds condensed into shimmering, wave-like patterns. Immortal cranes flew, and sparrows chirped.

Kunlun Void, from top to bottom, was decorated with countless tender lotus and water lilies that she liked. Though far from North Province, she felt like she had returned to Yaoguang Marsh.

Zhuo Zhao felt uncomfortable being stared at by so many eyes and retreated behind Luo Yu, “A-Yu, what is all this for?”

“Zhaozhao doesn’t need to be uneasy.” Luo Yu’s scarlet robes fluttered, and she raised her lips. “It’s just an ordinary Xuanmen banquet. But, whatever Zhaozhao wants to do today, A-Yu will satisfy you.”

Zhuo Zhao’s apricot eyes brightened.

She leaned on the railing, looking down at the suspended platform. Someone raised a cup to toast her. She hurriedly brought a wine cup herself, mimicking the other person’s manner.

She gulped down several cups. The scenery before her blurred. She turned her head and saw Kunlun Void disciples performing sword dances for entertainment not far away.

It was too far away for Zhuo Zhao to see clearly, even with wide-open eyes. She had always wanted to learn swordsmanship, and now her heart felt like it was being scratched by little claws.

She casually grabbed a sword, injected spiritual power, and staggered onto it.

She didn’t recite any spell, yet the sword smoothly followed her will, gracefully flying toward the direction she wanted to go.

Luo Yu hastily stood up, but her crimson robes brushed past Zhuo Zhao’s palm.

She smiled silently, lowered her face, and thought of the past.

Zhaozhao was becoming more and more like the Jiang Yun in her memory.

Not only her facial features but also her personality.

The little fish with her threads of emotion removed was still bright and unrestrained, very much like the Jiang Yun of the past who had never harbored any thoughts toward her.

But Zhaozhao was about to stay by her side and become her partner.

Luo Yu raised her wine cup to the guests in the distance, not concealing her smile, and drank it all.

However, in her peripheral vision, she caught sight of that snow-white color, which was almost carved into the deepest part of her heart’s disgust.

Si Jing had removed the spell concealing her face, and her faint lips curved up.

She silently opened her lips, the shape of the word being “Martial Uncle.”

Her pale, white fingers picked up a jade cup filled with wine, and slowly, unhurriedly, poured it onto the ground from left to right in front of her.

At the wedding ceremony, she performed a libation.

It seemed like a provocation.

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