After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 75.2

“The one who is indifferent and inhumane is Si Jing; the one manipulated by villains and who personally wielded the dagger is Si Jing; the one who couldn’t salvage the situation and entrusted me to do so is also Si Jing.”

“But, Zhao Zhao, why… have you never remembered the name Gui Ji?”

Red silk bound Chu Zhao’s hands and feet, instantly reminding her of the feeling of being chained to the couch by the woman.

The surrounding scene began to shatter; the high candles and crimson silk, the appearance of a wedding feast, dissolved into thick demonic energy.

The beautiful, unreal illusion—everything was a delusion, only the two of them were real.

Gui Ji embraced Chu Zhao from behind. With a flick of her sleeve, a mirror condensed from mist appeared before them.

“Since Zhao Zhao wants to see Si Jing so much,” she whispered against the girl’s ear.

“Then let Zhao Zhao see.”

“See… how Si Jing was tragically suppressed and annihilated by the combined forces of the Xuanmen (Mystic Sects).”

Si Jing leaned by the couch, watching the charming young girl fall into deep sleep.

The lovely little fish, ignorant of the ways of the world, remained unguarded even when chained and greedily observed by a person like her, falling asleep after being gently coaxed.

With the whale oil relit in the incense burner, her consciousness also felt cloudy. She couldn’t help but imagine over and over again.

Would Zhao Zhao… like the beautiful dream she and Gui Ji had woven together?

In the dream, the little fish would cast aside her worries and spend a long life with her.

Even if the “Si Jing” there was no longer her.

Si Jing leaned down and gently kissed Chu Zhao’s lip corner.

She was just a little regretful that the cunning, adorable little fish had fallen asleep so quickly.

There wasn’t time to taste the sweetness of Zhao Zhao’s lips again, to hear her alluring sobs, before parting.

In the tedious time waiting for Chu Zhao to wake up after returning from the Palace of Questioning Love, Si Jing rarely blinked, seemingly never feeling tired.

If she looked away for a moment, perhaps… she wouldn’t see her again in the future.

Si Jing remembered that the moment she carried Chu Zhao out of the Palace of Questioning Love, Bo Kunyao, through a communication jade slip, smiled tragically and told her:

“Ying Zhi, no matter what, I hope you treasure yourself.”

“Xizhuo Xianzi (Fairy Xizhuo) of Kunlun Xu will soon mobilize the Xuanmen to attack you in Danyong City.”

“She has spread rumors throughout the Nine Provinces that your little red fish is the current Demon Venerable, and you, presumably, are the reincarnation of the wicked sword, Gui Ji.”

Si Jing found it preposterous.

She couldn’t help but laugh, crimson spreading in her eyes, her lips curved for a long time.

Through Gui Ji, she already knew that her Zhao Zhao was the former Jiang Yun.

But so what?

…Is something right just because everyone believes it is?

Was the demon always a demon from time immemorial, and were the Xuanmen cultivators always the righteous path upholding justice from the past?

Her Dao Companion, the person she cherished, her little fish.

The once noble and upright Lord Hengwu, after cycles of reincarnation, has become the ridiculous “Demon Venerable”?

“Then, how about escaping reincarnation?” Gui Ji opened her mouth, smiling near her ear.

“A’Jing, as long as you are willing to divide most of your cultivation to build a dream realm without bloodshed for Zhao Zhao, none of these things will happen again.”

“The little fish will remain carefree, never getting entangled in the torrent of fate, nor suffering the misunderstandings of the world again.”

“You also won’t have to worry about Zhao Zhao running away; she will always be with you.”

Si Jing didn’t believe it initially.

How could she bear to let the little fish live forever in an illusion?

But after Gui Ji recounted the tragic endings of multiple lives with the little fish, Si Jing had to believe.

The little fish fell into an inescapable cycle of reincarnation again and again, resulting in a tragic demise, only to rewrite the false fate of Han Shi (Cold Stone).

The Heavenly Dao is always unpredictable and irresistible.

Si Jing acquiesced to Gui Ji’s idea.

She used the warmest, smoothest jade fat to forge non-injuring chains for Chu Zhao, firmly binding the little fish in a place protected by her, where no one could ever intrude.

Si Jing asked distractedly, “Will Zhao Zhao resent me?”

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

Gui Ji answered her, “Of course she will remember, A’Jing.”

“I will live on with your name, protecting Zhao Zhao for you until the illusion collapses.”

Si Jing could no longer speak.

She and Gui Ji were originally two sides of the same coin; the separation was an absurd act against the Heavenly Dao. Because of this, only one of them could stay by the little fish’s side.

So why shouldn’t it be her?

Dark, unworthy thoughts of jealousy and craving arose, almost consuming Si Jing.

Gui Ji sighed softly and spoke, “Because, A’Jing, you have to clear Jiang Yun’s name, the millennia-long stigma of the Demon Venerable.”

“Only you can do it. Because I sank into the Deep Silent Sea a hundred years ago, without a trace of my body.”

Si Jing calmed down.

After a long time, she answered everything lightly, smiling slightly, “Good.”

Because she and Zhao Zhao had already performed the ritual of partnership and marriage—she was Zhao Zhao’s Dao Companion.

She was willing… to do anything for her little fish.

Si Jing still couldn’t completely stay out of it.

She drew out most of her demonic energy, and during the process of weaving the illusion, she greedily rushed in.

She met and came to know Chu Zhao, who was fresh out of the deep sea and encountering the human world for the first time, wandering through the beautiful, false scenes, seeing all the beautiful sights, and treading every inch of the Nine Provinces.

Unknowingly, they spent four long seasons together.

That day, the little fish lay in her arms, reading the storybook she had chosen, and pouting prettily, asked to see snow.

Si Jing didn’t know where else in the Nine Provinces the snow was beautiful. Moreover, the dream she constructed for Zhao Zhao was one without coldness or pain.

She still thought of Yulü Peak. She thought the little fish always liked the atmosphere there, the unrestrained laughter of the young men and women.

Later, if Zhao Zhao remained in the cloud-water area of the dream, would she also be able to recall the days they spent together in the secluded chamber?

In reality, her wedding ritual with Chu Zhao had been so hurried.

If she could marry the little fish again in the dream and drink the wedding wine… that would be perfect.

Unfortunately, Si Jing didn’t witness that scene herself.

She entrusted Gui Ji to continue playing out this dream that would never end.

She and Gui Ji looked exactly alike, and the little fish loved beauty and was also fond of her appearance.

In this way, didn’t it also count as her accompanying Chu Zhao through a long life?

The great formation protecting Danyong City was already on the verge of collapse.

A flash of snowy sword light swept past, tearing apart the city that Si Jing had hoped to give to Chu Zhao, leaving it fragmented and ruined.

She curved her lips into a smile, and kissed the sleeping girl’s hand once more.

Like a farewell.

Kunlun Xu had ceased to exist since Si Jing had crashed the wedding.

The surviving disciples either joined other sects or roamed as rogue cultivators, eventually being integrated by Luoyu.

Now gathered in Danyong City, not far from the Deep Silent Sea, they loudly ordered her to hand over the concealed young master of the Jiao-Dragon Clan, who was said to be the reincarnation of the Demon Venerable Jiang Yun.

Si Jing stood on the sword tip, dressed in snowy white robes unstained by blood mist, strikingly out of place amidst the scene of Purgatory in Danyong City.

She curved her lips, revealing a deceiving smile.

Her figure suddenly dispersed, then landed behind an immortal cultivator whose voice was hoarse from shouting and who deeply loathed demons, and she murmured, “You said, Zhao Zhao is the Demon Venerable?”

“…Say it again.”

The immortal cultivator was startled and panicked. His throat barely managed a cry for help before being severed by the cold demonic energy, allowing only a gasp to escape.

“Pity, I don’t want to hear it anymore,” Si Jing sighed softly.

“How dare you slander Zhao Zhao?”

The space around her instantly became empty and silent; a circle nobody dared to step into, and the woman stood in the center, like a cold, silent, wandering vengeful spirit.

“According to Fairy Xizhuo, Si Jing is not the Demon Venerable.”

“Force her to hand over the young master of the Jiao-Dragon Clan, and nip the disaster in the bud!”

Si Jing’s smile widened.

The blood mist in her eyes was so thick it couldn’t dissipate. She looked up, gazing into the distance where Luoyu was located.

Ignoring all the fierce attacks launched at her, she lightly tapped her toe, reaching the graceful, jade-boned woman in a few breaths.

Bixiao pointed towards Si Jing’s throat, but with a gentle push from her, it immediately shifted, and the sword edge was stained with thin frost.

She leaned in, “My dear Martial Aunt.”

“Are your feelings for Zhao Zhao truly worthless in the face of your status in the Xuanmen and the support of the masses?”

“So much so that you concealed your own identity as the Demon Venerable for over a hundred years, insisting on framing Zhao Zhao… as the Demon Venerable.”

The crowd looked at her in shock and uncertainty.

“She’s crazy…”

“Does she know what she’s saying?”

Luoyu smiled warmly at Si Jing, not moving her lips, but transmitting a message to her.

“Ying Zhi… you know everything.”

“Did Gui Ji tell you?”

Si Jing did not answer.

She turned to the bewildered crowd, her posture composed, her fingertips coiling with misty demonic energy, and she looked down at the tragic, blood-soaked scene below.

With a wave of her hand, she granted the immortal cultivators the demons’ perspective.

The ferocious, ugly-looking demons turned into ordinary humans, fighting with long swords or short blades, and among them were ties of kinship and fellow discipleship.

Meanwhile, the lofty, seemingly immortal Xuanmen members transformed into horrifying figures with bleeding orifices, filthy and inauspicious, bloodthirsty and murderous.

“This is… the demon that all of you ‘fellow Daoists’ want to eliminate,” Si Jing laughed softly.

“A hundred years ago, they were your ancestors, seniors, and closest kin, but they were trapped in the Deep Silent Sea by Luoyu’s scheme.”

“And you, who claim to be slaying demons and guarding the righteous path, do not know how many times you have reduced them to ashes over the years.”

“You are the true demons who deserve to be wiped from the Nine Provinces.”

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