After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 75.1

“After entering the dream, will she still remember me?”

Panicked, Chu Zhao immediately squeezed her eyes shut.

Realizing the other person was actually observing her, she bit her lip until it was red, her heart pounding so loud it seemed ready to burst through her ears.

The woman who had been tenderly embracing her now seemed like a cold, spectral figure of snowy white.

Silent, her gaze obsessive, wanting to drown together with her.

Her wrists and ankles were already tightly bound, and the current sense of humiliation made Chu Zhao tremble uncontrollably, her eye corners quickly tinged with a delicate red.

Yet, Si Jing merely laughed.

There was still no hint of coercion in her manner, but her every gesture was almost suffocating to Chu Zhao.

Wet, warm breaths brushed across her face, the woman’s long hair, fine as silk, nestled into her neck, and she pecked her lip corner with unusual docility.

As if afraid of waking the dreamer.

“Zhao Zhao,” the woman coaxed gently, like a siren, “Sleep now.”

“Ying Zhi… will always be with you.”

The helpless feeling of being restrained gradually consumed her. Chu Zhao fought back the urge to bite the woman’s lip, her lashes soft and moist, her vision blanketed in darkness.

She was afraid that if she opened her eyes, Si Jing would become even more aggressive, wanting to bully her and devour her again.

Her thoughts resonated in sync with the other’s breath, and gradually, an uncontrollable weariness surged up.

Chu Zhao sank into a boundless, deep swamp.

Or perhaps it was… the sea.

Where was this?

She gazed around blankly, realizing that the chains on her wrists and ankles were gone, and the snowy figure that had confined her was also nowhere to be seen.

Joyfully, she flicked her mermaid tail. In the dim seabed, her scales, resembling the luster of jewels, shimmered with light.

Chu Zhao touched her tail.

The scales and fins were smooth and soft; not a single one was missing.

…Strange.

She tilted her head.

There was distinctly one scale that she had accidentally lost earlier, wasn’t there?

After pondering for a while, Chu Zhao quickly dismissed the matter.

Using the light reflected by a clam shell on the seabed, she checked her regained beautiful tail, then turned to see a faint glow in the distance of the seabed, like the pale light of dawn.

Immediately captivated, she swam towards that direction.

Ocean currents tugged at Chu Zhao’s silky fins, warning her, “Don’t go there”;

Shrimps and crabs wiggled their long antennae, begging earnestly, “Lord A’Chu, please don’t go!” “Are you going to forget about us, my Lord?”;

Chu Zhao gently pushed aside the less intelligent small shrimps and crabs, replying with confusion, “But, I don’t know you all.”

She pushed against the conflicting currents, biting her lip, and swam towards the light.

Even though the further she advanced, the dimmer her vision became, and the more blurred her memories grew.

Chu Zhao simply wanted to witness a beautiful sunrise, a sight she had never seen in her life.

The rosy clouds, like smoke, would dissipate, and with the scattering of the mist, the world would return to clear skies.

She broke the water surface as she wished.

And she saw the most unique sight in the world.

A woman was supporting a solitary boat, her figure tall and graceful, her clothes as clean and refined as snow, and her eyes like a beautiful, elegant stroke in a ink landscape painting.

Behind her was a blaze of colorful sunset light, and she was willing to bend down, cupping the clear water in her palm, gathering Chu Zhao into it as well.

Her eyes were filled with gentle affection, and she spoke softly: “Zhao Zhao.”

“Come to me.”

Chu Zhao was mesmerized by the beautiful sunset glow.

She had no idea that the world above the sea could be this exquisite.

She was brought onto the small boat by the woman, and in her daze, transformed into human form.

Seaspray became the skirt outlining her body, but she felt no shame or urge to cover herself.

She pressed the other woman onto the constantly rocking wooden deck, like bullying a perpetually closed clam shell at the bottom of the sea, mounting her and swaying as she lightly rubbed against her.

Until the seaspray completely vanished, she still couldn’t untie the obscurely tangled sashes of the woman’s clothes. Instead, she was pulled into an embrace, experiencing a trembling disintegration, being folded and then spread flat again.

Until both their faces were flushed, and their eyes were moist.

The woman gently kissed the scale-covered ear of Chu Zhao, and with a cold, white fingertip dipped in sweet nectar, she wrote her own name on Chu Zhao’s wet back.

— Si Jing.

“Si Jing?” Chu Zhao sucked on her fingertip, licked it, and savored the taste, “Si Jing is sweet.”

Si Jing didn’t speak, only smiled at her, quiet and permissive.

Yet, Chu Zhao seemed to hear what she wanted to say from the woman’s almond-shaped eyes.

Was she herself sweeter?

Chu Zhao bit the other’s neck in defiance, pouting, “I should be salty!”

Because she was always steeped in the deep sea, all the water that entered her gills, and the waves that spread over her scales, carried a heavy, dull saltiness.

Chu Zhao had thought the world outside the sea would be the same.

Until she met Si Jing.

Chu Zhao naturally followed Si Jing, leaving the deep swamp-like sea, heading towards more places with the beautiful scenery of sunrises and morning glow.

She couldn’t remember the place names, only saw the misty rain, which turned into vast wind and sand in the blink of an eye. The only constant was the quiet, aloof woman by her side.

Si Jing was always a woman of few words to others, but only when facing her would she melt like frost, flowing out in a soft, murmuring stream.

She called her “Zhao Zhao.” Calmly, passionately, indulgently.

They traveled across various places, seeing all the beauty of the four seasons, but they never saw snow.

This world was wonderfully like a dream, where all the people found their place. There was no betrayal, no deceit.

There was little of the biting cold wind, only an abundance of spring light, and even the tree branches were always adorned with the scarlet cluster flowers that Chu Zhao loved.

“I want to see snow!” Chu Zhao disappointedly tugged at Si Jing’s sleeve corner, pointing at the scattered words in a storybook, imagining with longing.

“Will snow be sweet? Once it melts, will it turn into sweet nectar?”

Si Jing, who had always indulged her, remained silent for a long time this time.

Finally, looking into her tearful eyes, she promised gently, “Then, Zhao Zhao, promise to marry me, and we will go see the snow, how about that?”

Chu Zhao nodded, “Then it’s a deal!”

She liked Si Jing very much too.

“It was a liking like how corals like clownfish, and crabs like kelp.”

Si Jing brought Chu Zhao to a sparsely populated, cloud-shrouded mountain.

As they ascended the stone steps, light snow gradually dusted their shoulders, cool and crisp.

It felt like the only cold reality in this world.

Midway up the mountain, there was a massive moss-covered stone. Chu Zhao peered at it for a long time, but mist consistently veiled her vision.

Behind the dilapidated library pavilion, there was always the shadow of a towering ancient tree. Chu Zhao eagerly ran over, only to catch a faint scent of peach blossom.

And at the summit. The edges of the vast square were empty, with only the stumps of felled pine trees remaining.

Chu Zhao and Si Jing held their wedding ceremony (Héjǐn lǐ – shared drinking of wine) in the silent mountain named Yulü Peak.

The mountains were deserted, with only the sound of falling snow, like a void echo after knocking on emptiness.

She, who usually feared loneliness, surprisingly didn’t find the place desolate.

Was it because Si Jing was constantly with her, indulging her?

Chu Zhao didn’t know.

She was already on the verge of forgetting the salty, deep sea from which she originated.

“Zhao Zhao?” Si Jing, her face radiantly beautiful after the veil was lifted, called her softly, presenting her with a small cup of wedding wine brimming with sweet nectar.

“Drink this cup, intertwined, and we shall be Dao Companions.”

Chu Zhao took it blankly, looking at her own lost expression reflected in the shimmering wine, and paused for a long time.

Her peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of a nearby table.

There, rested a brand-new dagger.

She remembered. It turned out that tonight, she was supposed to follow the words in the storybook Si Jing had given her: to peel off a tail scale and gift it to the woman.

Would it hurt very much?

The imagined pain transformed into a flame, scorching her fishtail, and gradually spreading to the most secret depths of her chest.

It had been a very long time since Chu Zhao had experienced pain.

She was well-protected by Si Jing; their journeys were always harmonious and tender. The woman doted on her, never letting her suffer even a hint of grievance.

Even the bite marks from when the other person accidentally used too much strength during intimacy would vanish without a trace the morning after.

Everything now was what Chu Zhao had craved and longed for while sinking in the deep sea.

But why did she still feel an emptiness inside?

The wedding wine cup slipped from her hand, and Chu Zhao staggered back a few steps, tears falling in a daze.

She saw several figures in light blue Daoist robes singing and strolling amidst the continuous fine snow, calling out “Senior Sister,” “Carp Fairy,” and drifting further and further away from her.

She saw a square pond in a dark, remote forest, where slender kelp and plump crabs, along with many small fish and shrimp, desperately tried to hold her back, begging her not to forget.

She saw the snowy figure she loved kneeling beside a peach tree. The wind and snow were ceaseless, yet they couldn’t stop the two trails of clear tears on her empty face.

Si Jing’s clear, low voice was already hoarse, “Zhao Zhao.”

“…It wasn’t, it wasn’t Ying Zhi’s doing.”

“Zhao Zhao… does it hurt?”

“Ying Zhi wanted to marry you. After the demonic unrest on Yulü Peak was settled, she was going to find you.”

“Zhao Zhao, wait for Ying Zhi in the desolate mountain, okay?”

Countless futile defenses and desperate pleas were only met with the lifeless weightlessness of the small red fish in her palm, its demon core gouged out, slowly disintegrating into fragments of soul.

The woman’s black hair was soaked with melted thin snow, like a ghostly wisp of soul, her shoulders slumped, her eyes vacant.

“Will Zhao Zhao still believe me?” she murmured.

“If I can’t find Zhao Zhao, then Ying Zhi… can she die for Zhao Zhao?”

The fragmented, hallucinatory scenes flowed before her eyes, then suddenly vanished, like the silent cessation of snow outside a window.

Chu Zhao’s eyes were slightly damp.

When she came back to her senses, what she saw was still the wine cup filled with sweet nectar.

In stark contrast to the miserable memories, the woman now wore a composed, reserved smile. “What’s wrong, Zhao Zhao?”

“As long as you marry me, we will be Dao Companions. From now on, we will still watch the dawn and the sunset together, okay?”

Chu Zhao shook her head in panic.

She was certain she had forgotten something.

The beautiful, unreal scene before her—Yulü Peak, with only her and Si Jing—was like a sweet dream she had while dozing in a clam shell.

“You are not Si Jing!” she stepped back a few paces, sobbing softly. “A’Chu doesn’t want to be here anymore… Where is Si Jing?”

The woman’s figure flickered for a moment.

She raised her eyes and curved her lips into a smile at Chu Zhao. “I… am Si Jing.”

Only, it was the darker side, contrary to the pure, new-snow-like soul fragment.

Gui Ji didn’t know where the flaw had occurred.

So much so that she was quickly seen through, even though she had just finished performing the play Si Jing had entrusted her with to trick the little fish this very night.

“Zhao Zhao, drink this cup of wine with me. Wouldn’t it be better if we lived forever in this dream without bloodshed?” She leaned in, taking the girl’s wrist, and whispered persuasively.

“I will always be by your side. Isn’t Zhao Zhao most afraid of being alone?”

The wedding dress the woman wore at this moment seemed dyed with crimson, adding a touch of deceptive beauty.

Chu Zhao reached for the dagger on the table and mercilessly swung it at the person in front of her. “…Let go of A’Chu!”

Gui Ji’s form condensed like mist, completely unharmed, but the outstretched hand drooped silently.

She smiled forlornly, her shoulders trembling.

“Zhao Zhao, why did you still choose her?”

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