After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 71.2

After that, no carp dared to provoke Jiangyun again.

However, no fish dared to approach her or speak to her either.

Jiangyun coiled up in a corner of the pond, lonely, only able to converse with a smooth, cool pebble at the bottom of the pond, which served as her resting place.

She showed the cold stone the jade-like scales on her body, admiring herself repeatedly, “Am I pretty?”

Yet, when the night grew deep and quiet, she would curl up into a ball, asking the cold stone with grievance, “Why, why am I the only one who looks so strange?”

Occasionally, when drowsy from listening to scriptures, she would sleep on the cold stone, vaguely unaware that the fish eggs flowing out of her were covering the object.

“Talk to me, please…?” Jiangyun murmured.

She loved excitement and feared loneliness the most.

Just like the solitude of never having seen her own parents since birth.

At dawn, the pond was still silent, and Jiangyun woke up hazily.

The cold stone beneath her was gone, but by the edge of the pond, there was a wet, snowy white figure.

The girl was so beautiful she seemed sculpted from jade, holding her up in her palm.

“By becoming this, I can speak.”

Jiangyun stared blankly at the person in front of her, her eyes gradually brightening.

The human form of the cold stone was devoid of sentiment. Though exceptionally beautiful, she was so wooden that she didn’t even know how to respond to her words.

Only when Jiangyun, as usual, climbed onto her, wiggling her body to rub against her, shedding a string of fish eggs, did her expression occasionally fluctuate.

The cold body grew warm, and she pushed her away without much force, “…Don’t rub.”

Jiangyun was the type to do the opposite of what she was told. Hearing this, she clung to the other person even more, groaning, “But, it feels very comfortable.”

“I do not know… what comfort means.” The girl lowered her long eyelashes. “I have no heart, nor am I a normal person.”

Jiangyun nodded knowingly, “I’m not human either.”

Buddhist scriptures said that the human world is saha (suffering), with beings deeply sinful, like a hell, far inferior to the eternal day of the Buddha realm.

She was afraid of humans, yet this fear sparked curiosity.

The girl led her to push aside the heavy clouds and peek at the human world.

A cold stone, a fish-dragon, watched curiously yet quietly as humans lived for hundreds and thousands of generations, endlessly continuing.

Jiangyun leaned into the girl’s cold embrace, longing and imagining, “The human world is so lively, not terrifying at all. If only I could go to the human world to play.”

The girl didn’t speak, only looking down at her.

After a long while, she replied, “…I want to too.”

Her lifespan was immense. She didn’t know how many years she had spent alone at the bottom of the pool, gradually forgetting her origin and destination amid the monotonous chanting of scriptures.

Yet, at the very first sight after gaining sentience, she saw the crimson little fish resting beside her.

Since then, all the little fish’s joys and sorrows tugged at her few emotions.

Jiangyun and the girl agreed to escape on a quiet night and go to the human world together.

But the girl, who was solidified like frost and snow, broke her promise.

The cold stone was no longer in the pond, having vanished like a wisp of light smoke.

Jiangyun waited alone for a long time, only to receive the Buddha’s compassionate smile and the maxim, “All things created are impermanent.”

The fish in the pond then laughed at her, saying, how could a cold stone have a heart?

It was only much, much later, after escaping the Buddha realm, that she learned.

The girl was a wicked stone, having committed many killings long ago, and was brought to the Buddha realm with the intention of washing away her sins.

But her inherent nature was hard to suppress. Gaining sentience meant she would re-enter the path of slaughter.

Leaving silently without harming her was one of the few exceptions the girl made for her.

Jiangyun didn’t believe in reincarnation, nor did she believe in innate evil.

She wanted to travel through Jiuzhou with the girl who had been trapped in the pool for a thousand years. She wanted to give her freedom and abandon again.

But Jiangyun wandered in the human world for a long time, yet she could never find the person who was willing to listen to her rambling all night.

She was truly too lonely, so she peeled off one of her scales, molded it into the likeness of another fish-dragon, and named her “Huai Lang.”

Like playing house, she called the other “twin sister.”

Would this be a family then?

Jiangyun still missed the sense of security she felt when leaning on the cold stone and resting in the Buddha realm’s pond.

When the girl, who was the human form of the cold stone, listened to Jiangyun sketching the scene of their escape into the mortal world, her long eyelashes were softly lowered.

Her clear and cold voice, as if by mistake, contained a lot of tenderness, “…I also wish to go with you.”

But when Jiangyun finally found the other person in the Jinmo Sea, the cold stone was submerged in blood and no longer had its former ice-and-snow appearance.

The other had absorbed the thick demonic energy of the sea of blood. Her body was surging with malevolence, and she no longer recognized her.

Jiangyun played her xun (a Chinese instrument) to soothe her, asking with a smile, “Does our previous agreement still count?”

Even if the cold stone would later become the Demon Sovereign and cause chaos in Jiuzhou, she still wanted to rewrite the other’s fate.

Just like her own.

Is a Fish-Dragon with a strange appearance, born to be despised and treated coldly, inherently evil?

The cold stone was no longer a nameless cold stone; she became Jiangyun’s Gui Ji.

But Jiangyun hadn’t expected that what Gui Ji, who had been given half of her heart, most urgently desired… would be her.

The cold stone, now possessing the seven emotions and six desires, was unimaginably scorching hot, repeatedly transgressing against her.

The predetermined outcome written in fate was inescapable.

The difference was that Gui Ji had fallen into depravity for her.

Jiangyun walked out of the pool.

After having half her heart gouged out, she could feel her long lifespan slowly slipping away.

But she had no regrets.

No regrets… for letting Gui Ji also linger in the mortal world they once longed for.

A demon, condensed from blood mist, appeared before her, inviting her to the Jinmo Sea for the contract-binding ceremony with Gui Ji.

Tonight was the last day of the deadline.

“Then,” Jiangyun smiled, allowing the demon to half-force the wedding dress onto her.

“Let’s go.”

With music and fanfare all the way, the Demon Palace beneath the Jinmo Sea was sinisterly cold and damp.

Gui Ji, in a wedding dress that seemed dyed with fresh blood, had pale skin. Yet, upon seeing Jiangyun being brought in, she was pathologically flushed.

Chu Zhao hid inside Jiangyun’s body, staring blankly at the woman, named Gui Ji, who had repeatedly tormented Jiangyun’s heart in the dream.

She and Si Jing were born almost identical.

Why was this so?

There were no extra guests for the wedding night.

Gui Ji pressed Jiangyun beneath her, taking and plundering almost with a sense of sadism.

As Jiangyun peaked in ecstasy, the corners of Gui Ji’s eyes were crimson, “A-Jiang, I know that you never truly loved me.”

“You always regarded me as a sword, and now that you agree to be bound to me, you’re looking for an opportunity to eliminate me, aren’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re bound to me, bound by my side, one day, you will never be able to leave me again.”

Jiangyun was humiliated, yet she still raised the corners of her mouth, “So that’s what you think.”

She took Gui Ji’s hand and placed it on her weakly throbbing chest, softly coaxing, “Does A-Ji want to listen?”

“Gouge out my heart and listen, is it the same as what your half thinks?”

Gui Ji struggled between illusion and clarity, retreating with difficulty, “…No.”

How could she kill Jiangyun?

“They say you are an evil sword, committing acts of slaughter and malice, but… let me see?” Jiangyun cupped her face, smilingly examining her for a while.

“Compared to before, you don’t seem to have changed much.”

Still the same, fierce in appearance but timid in heart, unable to strike her.

“This won’t do,” Jiangyun sighed, a dagger appearing out of thin air in her hand.

“So, let me help you, alright?”

She looked directly into Gui Ji’s blood-mist-surging eyes, smiling, as she slowly plunged the dagger into her own chest.

“It was my self-will that forged you into a sword and took you away from the Jinmo Sea, so, I will bear the consequences.”

After a sword and its master are bound by contract, if the sword kills its master, it will vanish into ash.

But Jiangyun did not hold Gui Ji’s hand; it was suicide.

“…I overestimated my own abilities and failed to break the cycle of the heavenly Dao,” Jiangyun raised her lips weakly.

“But this time, let me bear A-Ji’s fate, alright?”

She was never a meek person.

She was inherently willful and reckless. For this, she was willing to destroy herself.

Everything started because of her, and it also ended because of her.

Whether posterity praised her or reviled her, whether she fell from the position of Immortal Venerable, or was wrongly accused of being the Demon Sovereign, she did not care.

Jiangyun only ever cared about Gui Ji.

She wanted to give her remaining half of her heart to Gui Ji as well.

It was filled with the feelings she had never confessed to Gui Ji over the past century.

If so, would Gui Ji stop being plagued by feelings of insecurity?

“Next time, let A-Ji dote on me. I don’t want to be a Fish-Dragon, just a little red fish in your palm.”

She wanted… for them to be free from the manipulation of the Heavenly Dao, to travel through Jiuzhou, and to live out their remaining days normally and smoothly.

For the first time, an expression of panic appeared on Gui Ji’s indifferent face.

Chu Zhao, however, couldn’t hear what the other person was saying. She only saw the terrifying blood-tears silently flowing down the woman’s face.

Gui Ji covered Jiangyun’s profusely bleeding chest with her hand, first appearing lost, then pathologically hooking up her lips.

“A-Jiang wants to escape already?” Gui Ji leaned down, pecking a kiss on the woman’s already cold lips.

They hadn’t even drunk the nuptial cup wine. How could the ceremony be considered complete?

“I will find you, forever, and keep searching,” she muttered.

Chu Zhao only felt cold lips moving over her face. Gradually, her vision dimmed.

She felt as if she was being pulled out of the water, soaked through, and she woke up from the long, confused dream in alarm, opening her eyes.

Yet, upon regaining consciousness, she saw the long eyelashes of the snow-clad woman close by.

And the cold kiss on her cheek, identical to the one in her dream.

“Zhaozhao is awake so early?” Si Jing’s voice was low and gentle.

Chu Zhao instinctively curled back, anxiously, biting her lip until it was red.

Resisting with grievance, “You’re a bad person! Your name isn’t Si Jing at all… it’s Gui Ji!”

She was the bad Demon Sovereign who betrayed Jiangyun’s earnest devotion and chased after her.

A realistic, dull ache from the dream still lingered in her chest. Chu Zhao covered her front, fearfully thinking of how to escape the demon’s den.

Yet, she didn’t realize that her clothes were dishevelled, covered in red marks. Being half-covered like this only made her state more revealing.

Si Jing’s eyes darkened a little.

As much as she hated being mistaken for Gui Ji by Chu Zhao, she was just as deeply moved by the sight of the shy and adorable little fish before her.

Zhaozhao had already tasted the pleasure of both of them, so why could she still not tell the difference?

Si Jing leaned in and pressed Chu Zhao back onto the couch, her actions teasingly close and distant, stroking the areas that still held the warmth of passion.

“Then, Zhaozhao, which do you prefer? The taste of the sword hilt, or… Yingzhi’s fingers?”

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