After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 31

Jiang Mianhao’s lips brushed against Ye Qingge’s earlobe, and then everything went black before her eyes; she had fainted.

 

Ye Qingge, still processing what had just happened, froze for a moment before instinctively catching the person in her arms, adjusting her hold into a careful embrace.

 

“Jiang Mianhao?” Ye Qingge gently patted the cheek of the one in her arms. “Jiang Mianhao, don’t fall asleep.”

 

But Jiang Mianhao was already completely unconscious, lying limp against her.

 

Before Ye Qingge could fully react, the person in her arms shifted once again.

 

In an instant, she transformed back into a small pot of grass, cradled delicately in Ye Qingge’s hands.

 

Ye Qingge let out a deep sigh, her expression tinged with helplessness.

 

For the first time, a sense of uncertainty crept into her heart about this journey.

 

 

They had been down here for so long, yet affection had not blossomed, and the trial of love remained unresolved.

 

This blade of grass before her kept getting injured over and over, constantly reverting to its original form whether wounded in battle or ambushed by schemes.

 

For the first time, Ye Qingge felt a surge of impatience. How much longer would she have to go back and forth with this grass? How many more times would she have to save her?

 

Crimson droplets soaked into the soil of the grass pot. The small plant inside rapidly absorbed them.

 

Ye Qingge withdrew her wrist, and the wound healed instantly as her sleeve fell back into place.

 

Her determination to complete the mission surged to its peak.

 

“Remember, disciple,” a voice echoed in her mind, “affection does not necessarily require sincerity. Two parts genuine emotion, eight parts coaxing and temptation.

 

Do not reject her closeness.”

 

“Spend more time alone with her, doing things you find meaningless.”

 

Suddenly, the voice of the Wuji Mystic Master echoed twice in the depths of her mind.

 

Just as Ye Qingge was about to ask something, the Wuji Mystic Master seemed to sense it. The voice in her mind abruptly cut off.

 

Ye Qingge: “…”

 

Her gaze fell back on the bed where Jiang Mianhao, who had just successfully taken human form, lay with her eyes tightly shut, her face deathly pale.

 

Do not reject her closeness?

 

Ye Qingge raised a hand and touched her lips, recalling the stick of candied hawthorn Jiang Mianhao had offered earlier.

 

The lingering sweetness teased her senses, rising from the depths of her tongue.

 

She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the emotions Jiang Mianhao had stirred in her earlier that day.

 

But this time, when she closed her eyes, she found nothing.

 

Ye Qingge sighed and opened her eyes again.

 

A soft, faint whimper came from the person on the bed, so light it was almost imperceptible.

 

Ye Qingge initially intended to ignore it, but the Wuji Mystic Master’s instructions suddenly surfaced in her heart.

 

As if guided by some unseen force, she leaned her head closer and let out a soft, “Hmm?”

 

In the next moment, however, her neck was encircled by a pair of arms. The wrists that wrapped around her were weak, as if even lifting them had drained all their strength.

 

Pale, slender wrists like segments of lotus root draped over her shoulders and neck, fingertips hanging limply.

 

Ye Qingge frowned, about to push them away, when the Wuji Mystic Master’s admonitions resurfaced in her mind.

 

Suppressing her discomfort, she steeled herself and remained still, waiting for the next move from the person on the bed.

 

But nothing further happened.

 

Whether she had fainted or fallen asleep, the person on the bed left her hands in place and did not withdraw them.

 

Ye Qingge suddenly felt that her actions were utterly foolish. Frowning impatiently, she brushed the arm off her shoulder.

 

But just as her hand pushed it away, the previously limp arm tightened unexpectedly, and she was forced forward, nearly toppling over.

 

“Thirsty.”

 

A soft murmur sounded by her ear, and the tips of her ears instantly burned with heat.

 

Tormented by the curse, Jiang Mianhao drifted in a dreamlike haze, feeling a sudden coolness beside her fevered body.

 

Without hesitation, she reached out, drawing that coolness into her embrace.

 

But holding it wasn’t enough. Her mouth and tongue felt scorched, as if by fire, and she was desperately thirsty.

 

Jiang Mianhao extended the tip of her tongue, lightly licking her own lips. Her burning mouth pressed tightly against Ye Qingge’s ear, breaths spilling hotly across her neck.

 

Ye Qingge found herself caught in Jiang Mianhao’s relentless embrace, unable to move away.

 

She had considered using her spiritual power to push the other away, but the spot on her wrist where she had just drawn blood served as a sharp reminder.

 

What was worse, the breathing by her ear grew heavier, and the distance between them closed even further.

 

Suddenly, a soft, damp warmth pressed against the tip of her ear.

 

Ye Qingge froze, as if struck by lightning.

 

“Thirsty.” Jiang Mianhao gently licked the coolness she held, testing it with the tips of her teeth.

 

The coolness from her tongue did little to quench her thirst; instead, it enticed her to seek more, unable to restrain herself.

 

Her canine teeth pressed lightly, as if trying to draw more from that softness.

 

Ye Qingge’s mind went completely blank. She even forgot to push her forward.

 

A tingling, numbing sensation spread from her ear, and with each gentle bite, her body trembled, as if electrified.

 

With every press of teeth, the sensation deepened.

 

The person in her arms carried a faint scent of fresh grass, evoking an indescribable sense of tranquility.

 

Ye Qingge’s mind went blank, and she instinctively yawned.

 

The person on the bed seemed to finally realize that no water could be found there, and her lips reluctantly shifted position.

 

As the burning lips brushed past her cheek, Ye Qingge’s breathing grew heavier.

 

An itchy, electrifying sensation spread across her skin with Jiang Mianhao’s breaths washing over it.

 

They were pressed so close that Ye Qingge could even feel the flutter of Jiang Mianhao’s eyelashes.

 

When the tip of her tongue gently licked her cheek, Ye Qingge shivered and abruptly shoved the other away.

 

It felt as though a string in her mind had snapped; in her daze, she had almost allowed herself to sink fully into the moment.

 

Swallowing hard, Ye Qingge no longer lingered by the bedside.

 

Instead, she stood alone by the window, closing her eyes and silently reciting the mantra of the Heartless Path.

When sunlight streamed in, the sleeping figure on the bed fluttered her eyelashes like a butterfly about to take flight.

 

As the morning breeze brushed by, that butterfly finally lifted and flew away.

 

Jiang Mianhao opened her eyes, staring blankly at the sky.

 

Her entire body felt as if it had been beaten, utterly exhausted and weak, yet strangely free of pain.

 

She reached out and grabbed the water from the table, her throat so dry it threatened to crack.

 

As she sat up, her gaze froze in astonishment.

 

The white-robed immortal stood by the window, hands clasped behind her back, quietly gazing outside.

 

The morning light fell softly across her face, smoothing and enhancing every feature.

 

Jiang Mianhao seemed to forget even the dryness in her throat, staring dumbfounded at the figure by the window.

 

Gradually, her thoughts returned. Last night, she had seemed to revert to her original form.

But her memory was incomplete; she couldn’t recall the reason.

 

She only remembered that touch of coolness from her dream.

 

Pursing her lips, Jiang Mianhao drained the cup of water in one gulp, then noticed that the person by the window hadn’t changed clothes.

 

She still wore the same white robes from yesterday, the sleeves still marked with the faint red sugar stains Jiang Mianhao had smeared on them.

 

So… had Lu Jiu stayed by her side all night without even undressing?

 

A sudden wave of guilt welled up in Jiang Mianhao’s heart.

 

Although Mingming Lu Jiu had only injured her that one time, she had helped her repeatedly. Transforming her form, replenishing her spiritual power, even accompanying her down the mountain to train.

 

Jiang Mianhao lowered her gaze, recalling Ye Qingge’s words once more: “You are my dao companion.”

 

But she was just a thousand-year-old blade of grass, a being who had never even met Lu Jiu before and yet Lu Jiu still.

 

Was so good to her.

Jiang Mianhao sighed softly, an inexplicable sourness welling up in her chest.

 

She suddenly grew curious just how remarkable was the dao companion in Lu Jiu’s heart?

 

So remarkable that Lu Jiu would go to such lengths.

 

And in the end, she was only benefiting from someone else’s favor.

 

“Awake?” Ye Qingge’s voice was faint, almost hesitant.

 

Jiang Mianhao flinched, blinking nervously. “Aw… awake.”

 

The person standing by the window neither turned nor spoke again.

 

For a moment, Jiang Mianhao thought she had imagined it. But then the figure before her finally spoke once more.

 

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

 

Jiang Mianhao froze, blinking silently.

 

Ye Qingge sighed softly. “Forget it. There’s more than just this one thing you don’t remember.”

“For example, you don’t remember that you are my dao companion.”

 

Jiang Mianhao froze completely, rooted to the bed, unable to process the meaning of the words “dao companion.”

 

Ye Qingge said nothing more. She stepped away, disappearing behind the screen.

 

The clothes from the previous night were draped over the screen, and the faint sound of washing came from behind it.

 

At that moment, Jiang Mianhao was too dazed to feel shy or evasive; her mind was a complete blank.

 

Meanwhile, the figure behind the screen smirked coldly, clearly satisfied by the strange emotions rising in Jiang Mianhao’s heart.

 

Every flicker of her emotions had been keenly sensed. Ye Qingge had even felt her shock and surprise.

 

Ling Lan, having finished her sword practice, changed her clothes and lingered hesitantly at the door before finally knocking.

 

The sound jolted Jiang Mianhao back to reality, and she hurriedly responded.

 

“Mianhao!” Ling Lan smiled softly. “Did you sleep well last night?”

 

Jiang Mianhao nodded, taking Ling Lan’s hand and examining it carefully, as if making sure she was truly all right.

 

“Alright, Mianhao,” Ling Lan said, holding her hand gently. “I’m much better now. You don’t need to worry about me.”

 

A faint voice came from behind the screen.

 

Ling Lan, still holding Jiang Mianhao’s hand, leaned forward. “Lu Jiu, are you awake too? There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

 

“What is it?” Jiang Mianhao interjected, “Why not ask me first?”

 

Ling Lan pinched her cheek lightly. “It’s about my cultivation. The temple mission wasn’t completed, so I wanted to ask Lu Jiu if she could assign me another task.”

 

As she finished speaking, a figure emerged from behind the screen.

 

Dressed in pure white robes, her silver hair secured with an ebony hairpin, the young woman’s expression carried a faint chill, a subtle aloofness that made her presence commanding.

 

Jiang Mianhao stared, momentarily dazed, before belatedly averting her gaze.

 

The tips of her ears quietly flushed red.

 

“Lu Jiu,” Ling Lan began hesitantly, “I came to find you because—”

 

Ye Qingge gave a slight nod and spoke softly, “Go to Mount Hua.”

 

“Huh?” Ling Lan blinked, confused.

 

Jiang Mianhao’s expression mirrored hers, equally puzzled.

 

Seeing their bewilderment, Ye Qingge remained calm and composed.

 

“Before you begin cultivating,” she continued, “you need a proper weapon. You can’t keep using a peachwood sword forever.”

 

Ling Lan immediately understood, glancing down at her worn, polished peachwood sword, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

 

Yet Ye Qingge’s gaze remained locked on the other person, who still hadn’t looked up.

 

The true purpose of this journey wasn’t merely to find weapons. It was to create distance so that Ling Lan could develop her own feelings.

 

Still unaware and lost in her joy, Ling Lan softly murmured, “Thank you, thank you, Lu Jiu.”

 

“Then I—” Jiang Mianhao, who had only just realized what was happening, looked up and asked.

 

Ye Qingge simply nodded. “You may join in cultivating the Dao as well, but there is one condition.”