After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 9

Si Jing clenched her fingers, the broken jade fragments scraping her palm.

It took a while for the dull ache to register.

Her natal sword responded instantly, carrying her down into the desolate clouds and mist.

Her Daoist robe was dusted with light snow, her wide sleeves billowing with frosty wind. Her lips were already paler than others, and now they appeared even whiter.

Yingchuan is located in the Central State of the Nine Provinces, an unremarkable yet prosperous small prefecture known for its salt merchants. It’s not far from Emerald Peak.

A normal journey would take half a day, but traveling by sword, it takes only a quarter of an hour.

Si Jing wrapped her sword in a soft cloth and slung it across her back. She used a veil hat to cover her face and entered the city with the sparse flow of pedestrians.

The powers in the Nine Provinces are diverse and complex. Some cities strongly support the ancient and revered Immortal Cultivation Sects, while others deeply resent the Xuanmen (Mystical Gate) and refuse entry to their disciples.

Consequently, cultivators from various factions often conceal their appearance and try to avoid trouble when traveling.

Entering the city was unobstructed. Since the city gates were about to be locked, most people were moving hastily and were too preoccupied to notice those around them.

Si Jing found a secluded corner and stopped at a dilapidated tea stall.

It was almost dusk, and a customer at this hour was rare. The waiter eagerly flicked his white towel, “Welcome, distinguished guest, you must be tired. We have Green Dragon Biluo, the finest Mengding Yellow Bud… what would you like?”

Suddenly meeting the cold, beautiful eyes behind the veil, a chill ran down his spine, and he involuntarily stopped speaking.

“Plain water will be fine, thank you.” The woman slid a piece of crushed silver towards him.

The waiter beamed, taking the silver, “Right away!”

Si Jing watched his retreating back for a long time before withdrawing her gaze.

Just as it was the first time she visited Yingchuan a while ago, everyone in this city was entangled in a thread of demonic energy that had no place to hide.

With no leads yet, finding Yuan Ling and Susu was the priority.

A pot of plain water arrived quickly.

When there was no one else around, Si Jing spread the fragmented jade slip pieces on the wooden table. She drew out a pale yellow talisman paper, dipped her fingertip in water, and carefully drew a tracing spell.

She then quickly placed it on the jade slip and whispered a charm.

The talisman paper quickly curled and burned, and soon a faint, almost imperceptible plume of white smoke drifted out of the tea stall.

It pointed towards a tofu workshop across the street that had already closed for the day.

The street was sparsely populated, the sky was getting darker, and the sun had completely disappeared, but the lanterns had not yet been lit.

Si Jing didn’t want to delay, so she picked up her sword and stood up.

However, the waiter’s voice suddenly came from behind her, “Guest.”

The short, chubby figure had quietly reached her side at some point, his face still twisted into a flattering smile.

“You haven’t paid for the tea yet, how can you just… leave?”

Si Jing glanced at him, and her brows suddenly furrowed.

She swiftly turned sideways and retracted her sleeve, narrowly avoiding a stiff, sudden attack from the waiter, whose expression was blank.

The waiter swayed, as if he were a water balloon about to burst, his body disproportionately inflating. Finally, with a ‘pop,’ he turned into a puddle of foul, bloody black water.

A stench of damp, fishy air immediately spread. The black water coalesced into a demon resembling a water serpent, which split its mouth open, revealing sharp, dense teeth.

In the next instant, a snow-white sword light erupted.

The cold sword aura swept past, and the black water flowing towards the white-robed woman’s feet quickly froze into ice, cracking into a spiderweb pattern.

The demon was also frozen, letting out a painful screech. Before long, it quickly disintegrated with the shattering ice.

Only a demonic core, exuding a peculiar, eerie aura, slowly emerged.

Si Jing caught the demonic core and placed it in her storage pouch. Her movements were unhurried, as if she had purged demons this way many times before.

When she looked up again, the street was deserted and silent, and the doors of all the houses were tightly shut.

It was as if she were the only person left in this city.

Gazing at the sky, it was roughly the hour of You (5-7 PM). The night sky held only a crescent moon, like a willow leaf, obscured by clouds, casting an out-of-place gloom.

Si Jing’s expression was calm, and she did not slow her pace, walking straight towards the tofu workshop.

After lightly knocking on the door, a woman’s voice came from inside.

“I’m sorry, customer, the shop… is already closed.”

For some reason, her breathing was heavy and unstable.

Si Jing showed no mercy and directly pushed open the locked door.

The space inside the room was narrow. No candles were lit, and the stone mill used for making tofu held a circle of dim moonlight, barely illuminating the scene on the couch.

A gentle woman in a plain cloth tunic was curled up in the corner, her face flushed.

In front of her, a girl who was clearly much younger was closing her eyes, cupping the woman’s cheek, and kissing her with a devoted, clumsy fervor.

“Xiao Hu!” The gentle woman finally showed some indignation.

But even her reprimanding voice was as soft as water, failing to exert any deterrent effect.

She pushed away the girl called Xiao Hu, frantically clutching at her loose collar, seeming afraid to meet Si Jing’s cold gaze.

“Customer, please come back tomorrow. We… are out of tofu today.”

“No matter,” Si Jing replied.

Her eyes fell on the girl behind the woman—the girl who looked like a startled kitten, was intensely hostile towards her, and had an appearance so beautiful it was almost demonic. Si Jing spoke softly:

“I am not here to buy tofu.”

“Get out.” The girl’s voice held alertness and resistance.

“Leave my sister’s and my home.”

Si Jing did not retreat, but advanced.

She stood with her back to the sparse moonlight, her figure outlined by an unblemished jade-like aura. Her steps were light and steady as she moved past the flushed, gentle woman and stopped in front of the girl.

She lifted the girl’s chin with her hand and silently examined her.

The girl almost bit her lip until it bled, struggling desperately to break free, but could not.

“A demon that is dependent on water to survive.” Si Jing said softly.

She then turned, her gaze sweeping lightly over the gentle woman.

After a moment’s pause, she spoke, “A fragmented remnant soul… that should no longer exist in this world.”

Li Niang froze in place, her eyes still containing the watery sheen of passion, which gradually dimmed.

She managed to pull up a slightly pleasant curve at the corner of her lips and asked softly, “Xiao Hu, is what this Immortal Master said true?”

“Am I… no longer in this world?”

The girl mustered her strength, broke free from Si Jing’s restraint, shook her head frantically, and threw herself into Li Niang’s arms, “It’s false, she’s a charlatan, Sister, don’t believe her.”

Behind Li Niang’s back, she desperately dug her nails into her palms. When she released her grip, a single drop of blood containing demonic energy fell to the ground.

Instantly, the street lamps outside the door lit up, pedestrians flowed like clouds, and the restaurants and inns were bustling and noisy, as usual.

However, all the figures looked wooden and empty.

“Sister, look, everyone is here. Tomorrow, we’re going to see the spring opera.” The demonically beautiful girl embraced Li Niang and coaxed her softly near her ear.

Si Jing watched silently, without exposing the illusion.

Enveloped by the demonic energy, Li Niang closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Looking closely, a serene smile still lingered on her lips.

The girl’s expression was infatuated. She cautiously leaned down and pecked a light kiss on Li Niang’s lips, careful not to wake her.

“This soul fragment will dissipate in two more days,” Si Jing stated.

The girl glared angrily at Si Jing, “What has that got to do with you?”

She sized up the silent, snow-robed woman, and after a moment, her eyes fixed on the area near Si Jing’s chest.

Her voice was like silver bells, but she scoffed, “You pretend to be so pure and noble, defending the Dao by purging demons, but you’re just an empty shell. How are you different from the walking corpses outside?”

“Why don’t you abandon your sect, descend the mountain, and taste the seven emotions and six desires, the pleasures of the senses and the flesh? Just like… your two naive junior sisters.”

The girl revealed a sinister, mocking smile. As her voice faded, her figure dispersed like smoke and vanished without a trace.

Si Jing’s brows furrowed.

Instead of pursuing her, she took a talisman paper stained with ink from her wide sleeve, pressed it to her forehead, closed her eyes, and slowly drew it over her eye sockets.

Everything in the narrow room became clearly perceptible: the stone mill, the wooden tray, the fine gauze cloth.

Further back was the deep well used for drawing water in the backyard.

Her movement suddenly paused.

Scattered next to the well were some familiar pendants.

Yuan Ling’s peace buckle, and Shen Susu’s sword grinding stone.

In addition to these, a small white porcelain bowl was lying upside down, its rim slightly chipped.

—It was precisely the magical artifact she used to restrain the little red fish.

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