After My Death, the Immortal Venerable Became a Demon for My Sake - Chapter 8

“And what if I insist on interfering?”

The cold, clear voice cut through the silence of the night, every word landing with the weight of a thrown gauntlet.

Song Wangxiao’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She slowly turned her head to look at Jiang Cishuang beside her, only to find the woman’s eyes filled with an unyielding, crystalline resolve.

The wind howling past her ears felt like the frantic beat of a drum, thrumming against her heart. Song Wangxiao’s mind was a tangled mess of confusion.

Wu Qianshan’s expression darkened instantly upon hearing the woman’s defiant response. He stared intently at her ordinary face, searching his memory to see if he had ever encountered her before. A cultivator this audacious was not someone he would easily forget. Finally, he concluded that the woman before him must be using some form of disguise.

The female cultivator held only an ordinary spiritual sword and radiated no detectable spiritual energy. He couldn’t gauge her exact cultivation level, causing his heart to sink slightly.

“It seems my fellow Daoist is hell-bent on making an enemy of the Xiyi Sect.”

Jiang Cishuang curled her lips into a smirk. “I alone am enough to deal with you.”

With that, she lunged upward. Before Wu Qianshan could react, she unleashed a flurry of biting sword energy, the strikes infused with a soul-stirring killing intent as they flew toward him.

Wu Qianshan dodged backward with agile grace. His hands hooked into claws, conjuring two swirling masses of black energy which he hurled at Jiang Cishuang before flying forward to engage her in close combat.

Jiang Cishuang swiftly evaded the dark projectiles and soared up to meet Wu Qianshan’s assault. However, the black energy seemed to possess a will of its own, clinging to her relentlessly. Even when she swung her sword to shatter the masses, they simply reconvened in mid-air and continued their pursuit. They were incredibly tenacious.

From the ground, Song Wangxiao watched as Jiang Cishuang held her own against Wu Qianshan’s vicious attacks while simultaneously dodging the persistent dark energy. She couldn’t help but frown in worry. Her own cultivation was too weak; stepping in to help would not only be futile but might even distract Jiang Cishuang, forcing her to play protector.

Frantic but helpless to join the fray above, Song Wangxiao hurriedly opened her storage ring. She rifled through it, desperate for a magical tool that could restrain Wu Qianshan. Finally, after searching back and forth, she pulled out a length of rope and gripped it tightly.

The rope was exceptionally sturdy. If she could bind Wu Qianshan, it might buy them enough time to escape. She watched the two shifting silhouettes in the sky, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Strangely, she noticed that ‘Yin Xiao’ had not summoned her usual spiritual sword. Even the techniques she used against Wu Qianshan didn’t match the moves Song Wangxiao had seen her use in the mountain forest that day. The thought struck her as odd, but she didn’t dwell on it; her mind was entirely consumed by the sight of Yin Xiao fighting a two-front battle alone.

Jiang Cishuang eventually managed to dissipate the black energy entirely, but the cost was high cracks began to spiderweb across the blade of her ordinary spiritual sword. She swung the blade to parry another of Wu Qianshan’s strikes, then pressed her middle and index fingers together. Gathering the spiritual essence of the surrounding air at her fingertips, she lunged forward with a spirit-piercing finger strike. Caught off guard, Wu Qianshan was hit squarely. The force sent them both reeling back to a distance. Realizing he could no longer afford to be complacent, he unsheathed his natal sword and launched a high-speed offensive.

At that moment, the spiritual sword in Jiang Cishuang’s hand finally reached its limit. It crumbled into fine powder. From below, she heard Song Wangxiao’s voice screaming in warning.

“Yin Xiao! Get out of the way!”

Jiang Cishuang’s pupils contracted. She twisted her body to evade a lethal, hate-filled strike from Wu Qianshan. Now that he had summoned his natal sword, his power had surged, and the blade itself was swathed in rolling black mist. Even though Jiang Cishuang had dodged the direct hit, the black energy managed to graze her, searing her skin. She retreated quickly to put distance between them.

Right then, an afterimage shot up from directly beneath Jiang Cishuang’s previous position. It moved with startling speed, charging straight at the momentarily stunned Wu Qianshan. In less than a breath, the rope had wound itself tightly around him.

“This is… the Spirit-Binding Cord! You actually opened that secret chamber!” Wu Qianshan struggled violently, his eyes nearly bursting from their sockets. He glared at Song Wangxiao with venomous malice. If she had opened the secret room, had she already seen the demonic artifacts hidden within?

“And I took all your treasures, too!” Song Wangxiao rushed forward to catch the descending Jiang Cishuang, letting the woman lean into her arms to rest. She ignored Wu Qianshan’s screaming from above; after tossing out that final taunt, she supported Jiang Cishuang and began to move with the speed of the wind.

The commotion of the battle had been significant and was bound to draw other disciples. They had to break through before the reinforcements arrived, or escaping would become nearly impossible.

Song Wangxiao pushed her spiritual power to its limit, forcing her legs to move faster and faster. Soon, the sect’s main gate came into view.

Just as joy began to flare in her heart at the prospect of freedom, a violent explosion thundered behind them. Simultaneously, the woman in her arms, who had seemed drained of strength, suddenly shoved her away with a burst of power. Song Wangxiao stumbled several steps to the side, only steadying herself by grabbing onto a stone lion statue. Before she could even process what happened, a muffled groan pierced her heart.

“Ugh.” Jiang Cishuang was sent flying several meters by a blast of black energy. She slammed into a stone pillar with such force that a deep crack appeared in the stone, a testament to the sheer power the attacker had poured into the strike.

Jiang Cishuang slumped against the pillar, gasping for breath. When she looked up at the approaching Wu Qianshan, her eyes were filled with genuine, cold murderous intent.

“You thought a mere Spirit-Binding Cord could hold me? How incredibly naive.” Wu Qianshan laughed, his voice booming as black energy surged uncontrollably around him. He looked at Song Wangxiao with a predatory, malicious gaze.

“Song Wangxiao, you truly thought you could escape my Xiyi Sect with nothing but yourself and a half-crippled Body Integration stage cultivator? How delusional!”

Through the previous exchange, he had realized this female cultivator was only at the early levels of the Body Integration stage. To think she dared challenge him a Master of the Great Ascension stage! That last strike, fueled by half of his total cultivation power, had likely shattered half of her spiritual core.

Half-crippled?

Song Wangxiao froze. She looked at the dying, fragile figure of Yin Xiao leaning against the pillar, and felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

She breathed heavily, her heart swamped by a wave of bitterness and pain. Gritting her teeth, she stepped out from the shadows, staring fixedly at the man. Her fury was so intense it was almost palpable.

“Don’t you want my life? Fine. I’ll give it to you. Just let her go.” Song Wangxiao stood firmly in front of Jiang Cishuang, using her own body as a shield to prevent Wu Qianshan from attacking her again.

Jiang Cishuang, whose fingers had been subtly twitching to circulate spiritual energy at her side, went still. Her eyes darkened with an unreadable depth. Slowly, she relaxed her palms, and the Fuming Sword that had been trembling with anticipation within her spiritual sea fell silent.

“Oh? Are you trying to negotiate with me?” Wu Qianshan looked down at her with supreme arrogance, as if her offer were a joke. “Do you really think you’re in any position to set terms?”

“You just want my life, don’t you? Well, I’m right here. She’s of no use to you. Let her go and I’ll return with you quietly. Otherwise.” Song Wangxiao pulled out a blade and pressed the tip against her own chest.

“Otherwise, I will self-detonate my spiritual core right here. My life is supposedly very important to you, isn’t it? If I die, a cold corpse won’t do you much good. I might not be able to control my life, but I can certainly control my death!”

At her words, Jiang Cishuang’s bowed head slowly lifted. She watched the silhouette of the young girl standing tall in the night, putting her own life on the line to bargain for her safety.

Jiang Cishuang turned her gaze aside, her eyes swirling with emotions that couldn’t be named.

Wu Qianshan hesitated. It was true if Song Wangxiao died here, the demonic energy within her would perish along with her spiritual core. Their entire plan would go up in smoke.

“And how am I supposed to know this isn’t just a stalling tactic?” He was still loath to let the cultivator who attacked him escape; he wanted nothing more than to tear her limb from limb to appease his rage.

“You can see for yourself she’s no match for you now, and I’m even less of a threat. Letting her go is my final compromise. Make your choice quickly: let her go and take my life, or we all die right here.” Song Wangxiao began to form a hand seal. A moment later, a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth.

Wu Qianshan’s eyes widened. Seeing that she was truly prepared to self-detonate, his face contorted into a twisted smile. “What a touching pair of Daoist partners. Fine! I’ll let her go!”

“Keep your word!”

Song Wangxiao dropped the knife. She rushed to Jiang Cishuang’s side, pulled out a Core-Stabilizing Pill, and pressed it into her mouth before helping her up.

“Go, quickly,” she urged, her voice thick with anxiety.

Jiang Cishuang looked up at her. The moonlight caught her fluttering eyelashes, making it impossible to read her expression. She gave Song Wangxiao one long, searching look, then took the girl’s trembling hands, squeezed them gently, and let go. She turned and used her remaining spiritual power to vanish into the night, flying away from the Xiyi Sect.

Only when Yin Xiao’s silhouette had completely disappeared into the vast darkness did Song Wangxiao’s frantic heart begin to steady. The next second, she felt a sudden constriction. Looking down, she saw she had been bound tight by the Spirit-Binding Cord.

She struggled, but the rope showed no signs of loosening; instead, it grew tighter, making it difficult to breathe.

“I said I would stay, didn’t I? Why are you still tying me up?”

Wu Qianshan walked over to her, the black energy around him boiling with suppressed rage.

“Such a devoted pair of lovebirds. But as they say, when disaster strikes, it’s every man for himself. A pity you’ll never see her again in this lifetime.” He turned to look into the distance. Several torches were flickering toward them; the patrol disciples had arrived, drawn by the noise.

“Song Wangxiao, I am truly curious. Since you had already managed to escape, why on earth did you come back?” Now that they were alone for a moment, Wu Qianshan made no effort to hide his malice. Song Wangxiao, for her part, seemed happy to chat.

“Sect Leader Wu, I came back because I had urgent business,” she replied, not bothering with riddles. “I was thinking… how could a mere Foundation Establishment disciple like me be worth so much effort to hunt down? I was genuinely curious, so I came back to see for myself.”

Wu Qianshan laughed maniacally. “Oh? Is that so?”

Song Wangxiao smirked. “I was confused at first. But your reaction just now, Sect Leader, has made me certain of my theory.”

Wu Qianshan’s expression chilled. “What are you talking about?”

Song Wangxiao didn’t care about his shift in mood; she knew he wouldn’t dare kill her yet. “Earlier, I offered my life in exchange for Yin Xiao’s freedom. You agreed. But what makes my life so special that you’d care that much? There must be something I have that you desperately need something that exists while I’m alive but disappears if I die. Thinking it over, the only thing of any value is this Foundation Establishment spiritual core of mine.”

Despite being bound by the Spirit-Binding Cord, Song Wangxiao remained remarkably composed as she laid out her deductions.

“So, I’m guessing my entry into this sect was a setup from the very beginning. Am I right?”

Wu Qianshan’s face turned shades of blue and purple. Perhaps because her first guess was too accurate, he instinctively snapped back at the second half: “Nonsense! Your entry into this sect was destiny! You were always.” He suddenly realized his slip and abruptly changed the subject.

“Hmph! Song Wangxiao, you’re only talking so much because you’re desperate to cling to life a little longer. I won’t give you the satisfaction.” He looked toward the approaching patrol disciples, forcing the black energy back into his dantian as he commanded:

“I have captured the traitor. Drag her to the dungeon. No one is permitted to enter without my express command!”

The disciples bowed respectfully. One flattered him, saying, “Congratulations, Sect Leader, on capturing this wretch. I’m sure Immortal Zongyue at Guanqi Gate will be overjoyed when he hears the news.”

Wu Qianshan stroked his beard with satisfaction.

“You’re wrong.” Song Wangxiao, who had been silent with her head bowed, suddenly spoke up. The comment was abrupt and seemingly out of context.

A sudden, inexplicable weight sank in Wu Qianshan’s gut. He spun around to glare at her. “What did you say?”

“You’re wrong. She and I… we aren’t Daoist partners,” Song Wangxiao said softly. A small, helpless smile touched her lips as she recalled something.

“If we were a couple, we wouldn’t be the type to abandon each other when things get tough.”

She looked up, her sharp eyes devoid of the defeat and helplessness she had shown moments ago. She quirked her lips and slowly snapped her fingers.

“It would be more like: ‘Wives together, coming home hand-in-hand.'”

In the next instant, the girl who should have been immobilized by the Spirit-Binding Cord vanished into thin air. All that remained was the sharp, metallic clink of the rope hitting the ground, echoing loudly in the dead of night.

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