After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 80

Han Shi had been silently gazing at Xiao Yu for a long time.

Before the little fish swam over, she had inscribed one more stroke on her body.

The three hundred and twenty-first stroke.

Han Shi’s senses were very faint, and she knew no fatigue. She was simply thinking that there could be such a beautiful and pure gem in the world.

Scales and feathers of deep red, bright pink jade eyes, and the light flicking of fins, sending ceaseless ripples toward her.

At night, the little fish would rest on her, falling asleep obediently. During the day, when the Buddha lectured, it would swim away with great interest to play with the other carp in the pond.

Han Shi couldn’t keep the little fish.

She was wooden and indifferent, let alone unable to speak, and could only repeatedly savor the feeling of being close to the little fish.

The heart inside the little fish’s soft belly was always palpitating, making her feel numb with heat.

Han Shi desired a heart.

A heart… a crimson and soft one, like the little fish’s.

A wet, soft peck landed on her body. The little fish circled her a few times, curiously tilting its tail fin. “Why don’t you speak?”

“Cool stone, you’re so shiny, like a mirror! Tell me, am I pretty?”

Naturally, she was beautiful, like a soft, ethereal cloud of deep red.

A beauty sufficient for Han Shi to keep etched in her heart for over a hundred years.

The little fish couldn’t hear her answer and could only shake its tail at her in vain.

After waiting for a while, it pretended as if she had praised it, and responded cheerfully, “Of course, I am! I’m the prettiest fish in the pond!”

The little fish never returned to the school of fish.

It played by itself for a while, curling up dejectedly and sleeping pressed against her.

Han Shi gazed greedily at the little fish for a long time, finally falling into silence.

She sensed the same solitude in the little fish that she felt herself.

Han Shi didn’t understand why a living creature would feel lonely, but she didn’t want the little fish to be sad.

Although she herself was only a stone, frigid and deeply cold, even with spiritual consciousness.

Han Shi transformed into the image of a human woman from the storybooks that the carp in the lotus pond scorned but which the little fish loved to read.

She held the sleeping little fish in her arms, waiting until the faint light of dawn.

The peach tree by the pond, which liked to invent anecdotes, chuckled at her, and the blue bird perched on its branch brought her a snow-colored robe.

They said to Han Shi, “We will keep your secret.”

“We won’t tell the Buddha, nor will we mention that you were once a wicked stone that brought disaster to the world.”

“…” Han Shi paid them no mind, only waiting patiently.

She didn’t care about any secrets; she only wanted the little fish to be joyful and excited.

To be able to speak to her softly, playfully, and dependently, as usual.

Han Shi got her wish: she waited until the little fish was sleepy-eyed, and its deep pink eyes lit up when it saw her.

The little fish leaped up and gave her cold cheek a kiss, “Cool stone, you’re so beautiful!”

“You’ll always stay with me, right?”

Han Shi had never seen the little fish so happy.

She had not uttered a word for millennia, nor could she keep up with the little fish’s lively chatter, always shyly turning her head away.

The little fish tugged at her robe hem, pulling her back, and pleaded, “Look at me, look at me!”

The little fish feared being ignored, feared loneliness, feared that Han Shi would be annoyed by its noisiness and dislike its inability to fit in.

But was Han Shi not also a nonconformist, an anomaly in this Buddhist land?

Han Shi couldn’t bear to deny the little fish’s wish.

She didn’t say that they were both lonely, and having already watched the little fish for over a hundred years, how could she ever be tired of it?

When the little fish tearfully said it had grown ugly horns and twisted claws, not looking like a carp but more like a ferocious ancient dragon, she would cradle it in her hands.

Emulating the little fish’s peck, she would lightly kiss the top of its head, “Not ugly.”

It was clearly a dazzling, deep red gem.

When the little fish sadly told her that it had never seen its family, and the carp all said its father was an evil dragon and its mother a mermaid, calling it a mongrel, Han Shi wrapped the little fish in the snow-colored fabric.

Awkwardly opening her mouth, “I will be… your family, alright?”

Han Shi thought, perhaps it was from that moment that an improper thought for the little fish arose within her.

She wanted the little fish to reside in her embrace forever.

She would shield the little fish from bullying, and the little fish would serve as her palpitating heart.

Han Shi hadn’t considered that the little fish would have a rebellious nature.

As obedient and charming as it was during the chanting of scriptures, when all was silent, it would secretly transform into a human form, just like her, behind the backs of the other fish, daringly mounting her.

Han Shi only needed to lower her eyes, and all she could see was wet, snowy white skin, and the deep red fish tail coiled around her waist.

The girl’s appearance was delicate and charming, her cheeks flushed, clinging to her neck without letting go, transmitting slight trembling and shivers to her.

“Cool stone, ooh… it feels good.”

Han Shi couldn’t experience the little fish’s sensation.

She could only hold the other tightly, so tight that it felt like it would embed into her embrace, just to hear the sound of that heart beating fiercely.

The cold, frosted jade seemed to have the illusion of being melted.

The Buddha speaks of the Eight Sufferings of human life:

Birth, aging, sickness, death, the suffering of not getting what one wants, the suffering of being with what one hates, the suffering of separation from what one loves, and the suffering of the burning of the Five Aggregates.

Han Shi, not born human, struggled to feel suffering.

The little fish brought her the Five Aggregates, and from the fall into the burning of the Five Aggregates, she actually tasted a trace of sweetness that captivated her.

Han Shi wanted to fulfill all the little fish’s wishes.

They… were already family.

She would maintain her snow-like, ethereal appearance in front of the little fish, yet secretly dispose of the carp that bullied and mocked the little fish, cleansing the bloody pond water.

When the little fish grew tired of the chanting, she would indifferently burn the Buddha’s obscure scriptures to ashes, brushing away the dust, bringing the little fish a moment of peace.

Han Shi felt that she had changed.

The darkness and impropriety, suppressed by long periods of scripture chanting, gradually began to show signs.

After an intimate night, Han Shi heard the little fish murmuring in its sleep, “Want to go to the mortal world! With the stone…”

So, after the little fish woke up, Han Shi defied the strict prohibitions of the Buddhist land, pushed aside the heavy clouds, and peered at the mortal world with her.

They saw the prosperity of the human world, the blossoming flowers and flourishing life, and also witnessed the rampage of ancient dragons, their brutality and violence, utterly destroying the scene the little fish longed for.

The little fish laughed and talked happily with her, but when it saw the mortal world where blood flowed like a sea, and the once-prosperous Merman race was overthrown by the Ancient Dragon race, its eyes turned red.

It murmured softly, “…Why?”

Han Shi only understood when the little fish, curled up in fear in her arms that night, unconsciously called out “Mother.”

There was a genuine family in the mortal world, or perhaps among the Mermen, that the little fish desperately sought.

…Then what was she?

The little fish had something to yearn for and pursue, and with its endearing personality, it would gradually abandon her once it reached the mortal world.

Han Shi could not accept such an ending.

Her empty chest, which had been briefly warmed by the little fish, would soon cool down forever.

The little fish… should only be her possession.

Han Shi found it difficult to restrain the wickedness that surged from the deepest part of her being.

Her eyes turned crimson, her shoulders trembled, and she momentarily lost control, feeling her body act autonomously.

When her consciousness returned, she had already brutally ravaged the Buddhist land, leaving it shattered.

The stems of the five-colored lotuses were broken, cracks appeared on the Buddha’s jade seat, the eternal daylight dimmed, and her hands were stained with deep red.

Only the area near the lotus pond remained as before.

The little red fish rested on a miniature lotus leaf, sleeping soundly.

Han Shi stumbled backward in shock, the blood mist in her eyes dissipating completely.

Fortunately… she had not harmed her little fish.

She knelt down and silently wrung the blood from her snow-white robe, which was already soaked. Afraid of waking the little fish, she did not use the pond water to clean it, only gazing at it with possessive longing.

Shifting between sorrow and joy, after a long time, her face turned pale, as if struck hard.

The little fish hated people who were cruel and wicked.

But she had either subtly changed, or her nature was simply unyielding, transforming into the very image the little fish most despised.

Would the little fish still like her?

Would it still lie in her arms without reservation, wanting to go to the mortal world with her?

Han Shi fled in a panic.

The inscription marks of her secret longing for the little fish over a hundred years finally stopped at the three hundred and fortieth stroke.

The hidden etchings remained forever, but her time with the little fish was brief, like dew or a flash of lightning.

Han Shi escaped to the sahā world, which was worse than hell according to the Buddhist scriptures, and plunged into a mortal world pond, shrouding herself in frost and sealing herself away.

The place where she settled was named Peach Village.

Many peach trees grew around the village, and lotus blossoms gently swayed, giving her the fleeting illusion of still being in the Buddhist land.

Han Shi remained numb and trapped in the mortal world for a very long time.

So long that years flowed by, and the human world saw countless generations pass.

She often looked up at the empty sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of a vibrant color, bright as the morning clouds, once the mists cleared.

But she never saw the little fish.

One year, ten years, a hundred years.

Countless centuries passed.

Han Shi began to lose control of herself.

Each time she touched the countless etchings on her body, she would lose her reason and commit many wicked deeds.

She hid in the barren mountains outside Peach Village, curling up, her hands stained with blood, soaking her robe, looking like she had crawled out of hell.

That night, blood rained down from the sky. She was expressionless but felt her eyes moisten.

Raising a hand to touch them, she realized it wasn’t rain falling from the sky; it was her eyes, permeated by demonic energy, welling up.

The crimson blood-tears bore a slight resemblance to the bright little fish in the pond.

She had become the very person the little fish most loathed and wished to eliminate quickly.

Would the little fish ever look at her again, willing to spend a long life with her?

Han Shi touched her chest in confusion.

She was born without a heart, yet she felt a sharp pang, a suffocating ache.

That vibrant palpitation that once clung to her, as mentioned in the Heart Sūtra, was a “perverted delusion” and would never belong to her.

Han Shi transformed into a snow-white figure, changed her appearance to the one the little fish liked most, and walked aimlessly into Peach Village, blending in with the crowd.

She fantasized that the little fish would fall into the mortal world just like her.

Just like the day they first met, the lively and joyful little fish would swim only toward her and curl up in her arms.

It had been countless centuries since she fled the Buddhist land and fell into the mortal world.

Suddenly, a streak of deep red brushed past her.

The maiden’s robes fluttered, like a soft and blazing cloud of dawn. She wore a sword at her waist, greeting familiar faces in Peach Village, her profile bright and cheerful.

Han Shi stopped in her tracks.

She heard the villagers praise the maiden’s exquisite swordsmanship, protecting Peach Village from the invasion of the Ancient Dragons, and ask her if she had found the person she had been looking for.

The maiden took a sip of the sweet wine from her flask, her voice charming, “I will find her!”

“No matter what she looks like, I will find her.”

Han Shi huddled in the corner of a tea stall until the sky grew dark, the night air turned cool as water, and crept into her chest.

She felt so ashamed that even glimpsing that streak of deep red in her periphery felt scalding hot.

The little fish’s eyes sparkled. Having arrived in the much-anticipated mortal world, it was already dazzled by the hustle and bustle of human life. How would it possibly recognize her?

Han Shi clutched the table, her shoulders trembling, and let out a desolate laugh.

A deep sense of unwillingness overwhelmed her, gradually fermenting into an almost twisted desire.

She followed the trail, silently slipping into the inn where the little fish was staying.

All the lamps were extinguished, and only the innermost room had a thin paper window reflecting the figure she had coveted for years in the mortal world.

The little fish was no longer the innocent image in her memory; the silhouette was captivating and graceful, beautifully moving.

Han Shi watched, tirelessly, for a long, long time.

She followed behind the little fish, seeing the maiden during the day so bright that it made her unable to open her eyes, her swordplay stunning, revered by the world as “Immortal Venerable.”

At dusk, the maiden would order a pot of honeyed sweet wine, chatting and laughing with the people of Peach Village. Her captivating beauty naturally caused many to secretly fall for her.

However, those who made plans to meet the maiden under the moonlight among the flowers ultimately failed to keep their appointments.

Han Shi indifferently wiped the deep red stain from her knuckles, her steps silent, and raised her lips, following the little fish all the way back to the inn.

The little fish seemed quite disappointed about being stood up, hanging its head as it returned to its room.

She gazed intently at the maiden’s lost-in-thought expression while polishing her sword, envying the ordinary plain sword that could lie in the other’s arms;

She watched the little fish eat sweet plum blossom cakes, cheeks puffed out, and curved her lips, thinking that the pink lips dusted with crumbs must be sweeter than the cake;

She heard the gurgling sound of water filling the wooden tub, and the maiden immersed herself in the steam, happily playing in the water, her eyes hidden in the darkness.

Using her peripheral vision, she restrained herself from imagining the little fish’s alluring appearance at that moment.

But the candlelight suddenly went out with a whoosh.

Han Shi felt a pair of soft, slender arms quietly wrap around her neck from behind.

The maiden exerted some force, directly pushing her onto the floor of the room. Her apricot eyes flashed brilliantly, astonishingly bright.

“I caught you!” She leaned over, nuzzling against her neck as before, her cheeks still slightly damp.

Han Shi bit her lip until it turned white. She didn’t even dare to meet the maiden’s gaze, turning her eyes away, only to hear a disgruntled moan from the other.

“Look at me, look at me!”

The maiden straddled her, shamelessly, and used one hand to undo the thin layer of deep red undergarment she was wearing.

Instantly, snow-white curves met the eye, rising and falling smoothly.

“I… I missed you a lot.” The little fish’s face actually blushed, holding her robe sash between her teeth, her eyes hazy, pulling it out little by little with her pearly whites.

“Beautiful stone, you’ve been following me. Is it because you want to feel good, and want to do happy things with me?”

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