After My Paranoid Act to Woo My Cold Master Failed - Chapter 12

The sharp cry of a spiritual crane pierced Shen Shuheng’s ears, and she looked out the window. A crane specifically used for delivering messages within the sect held a letter in its beak. The pale sunlight cut across its feathers like a knife, and the bird gave a mournful shriek.

The crane flew incredibly fast, like an arrow shooting through the window, bringing with it a sudden gust of wind. Shen Shuheng hurriedly lowered her head; the bird nearly collided with her. She looked up to see it landing beside her Master. The crane tilted its head to deliver the letter to Fu Xueke, then chirped urgently, nudging her hand as if pleading with her to read it immediately.

Shen Shuheng felt a premonition that something big was about to happen.

Fu Xueke opened the letter, her delicate brows furrowing slightly as her expression turned grave. She cast a spell, and the letter floated from her hand; the golden characters within the text expanded and rose into the air so every disciple present could see.

In five days, the Demon Race would attack Nanxi City. This was a city of mortals with very few cultivators to defend it; they could not possibly resist a demonic invasion without the support of the great sects.

“Ever since the previous Sect Leader killed the Demon Lord, the Demon Race has been in a state of internal chaos. They are nothing to fear. I’ve never even been on a battlefield before,” a blue-robed disciple remarked.

“My cultivation has been stuck for a long time. Perhaps this is the chance I need to break through to the Golden Core stage.”

Seeing the letter, Shen Shuheng felt a faint sense of unease.

“This class ends here. Return to your quarters and pack your things. we depart for Nanxi City today,” Fu Xueke commanded the disciples.

Hearing this, the disciples’ faces lit up with excitement. One after another, they flew out the windows on their swords. Shen Shuheng remained in her seat, resting her chin on her hand. The sunlight spilling over her eyes flickered with the movement of her lashes, like a light-winged butterfly about to take flight.

Fu Xueke walked over to her, her fingertip lightly touching those trembling lashes. It felt slightly ticklish. Shen Shuheng looked up; her Master’s porcelain-white fingertips looked like dew-kissed peach blossoms in the sunlight.

“Let’s go. What are you thinking about?” Fu Xueke took her hand and pulled her up.

The warmth of her Master’s soft palm smoothed away the unease in Shen Shuheng’s heart. As long as Master was by her side, she feared nothing.

“Alright,” Shen Shuheng replied, looking up at her.

There was no snow at the Inquiry Pavilion today, but it was as cold as ever. “Bring out your sword. I will seal a few more strands of sword qi within it,” Fu Xueke said.

The silver-white longsword appeared in Shen Shuheng’s hand, its blade reflecting the surrounding snow. Fu Xueke reached out, her slender fingers sliding across the blade as a shimmering light flowed over the steel.

“Master, who wrote that letter?” Shen Shuheng asked, curious.

“The Ancestor wrote it.”

“How did she know the Demon Race was planning to attack Nanxi City?”

“I do not know, but the seal on the letter is indeed the Ancestor’s. It cannot be a forgery.”

After packing, the two headed to the sect’s central plaza. Once the other disciples had gathered, they prepared to depart. The Yuheng Sect did not provide flying vessels; instead, disciples were expected to fly by sword or other means, treating the journey as part of their training.

Most of these disciples had never experienced the world outside. This mission to resist the demons was a perfect opportunity for them to gain experience.

In an instant, the plaza was filled with flowing sword light as disciples summoned their weapons. Those who were not sword cultivators either hitched a ride with a friend or sat atop large spiritual gourds. Shen Shuheng glanced to the side and saw Gu Mian standing on Chu Qingshui’s sword, her arms wrapped tightly around Chu’s waist as they leaned close together.

A blood-red sunset stained half the sky, and gradually, darkness swallowed the firmament. The group did not stop to rest, flying through the night; at this rate, they would reach Nanxi City in three days.

SWISH!

A sharp arrow pierced through a body. By the dim starlight, blood could be seen erupting from a disciple’s chest like a dark red flower blooming in the night only to wither instantly. It was a ghastly sight. The disciple let out a scream and fell from his sword, plummeting toward the ground.

The pungent scent of blood wafted into everyone’s nostrils, turning into a wave of terror that gripped them all. One by one, more disciples were struck by arrows and fell. Yet, they could not find the enemy.

“Everyone, form a sword array! Descend slowly! Non-sword cultivators, stay in the center!” Fu Xueke commanded calmly.

They quickly adjusted their formation, protecting the weaker members in the middle. The sword cultivators on the perimeter swung their weapons, their sword light flashing like falling stars. Unable to see their foes, they could only strike blindly to block the arrows coming from the shadows. The murderous whistling of the arrows echoed in Shen Shuheng’s ears.

Finally, her feet touched the ground. She gripped her sword, using her divine sense to alertly scan the surroundings.

Fu Xueke stood beside her. Under the starlight, her face was pale, and fine beads of sweat had formed on her forehead. She was biting her lip hard. Shen Shuheng looked at her with worry. “You—”

Before she could finish, her Master’s finger pressed against her lips. “It’s nothing. Do not worry.”

The two conflicting energies had appeared in Fu Xueke’s body again, rampaging through her veins. Waves of ice and fire alternated within her; she had to force herself to stay upright so neither the disciples nor the hidden enemies would notice her weakness.

Fu Xueke’s finger remained against Shen Shuheng’s lips. As Shen Shuheng’s lips moved against her fingertip, it felt as though a soft touch brushed across her own heart, sending a shiver through her.

“Master, you once told me I didn’t have to force myself in front of you. You don’t have to force yourself in front of me either.” Shen Shuheng’s eyes sparkled. “One day, A-Heng will be the one to protect you.”

Their enemies would only grow stronger; she had to grow up.

An arrow flew toward Shen Shuheng. Fu Xueke endured the chaotic spiritual energy and raised her sword; the impact made her palm go numb. Shen Shuheng heard her Master’s breathing grow more labored, and her sword-hand began to tremble.

With a CLANG, the sword slipped from Fu Xueke’s hand. She felt like she was standing on a rolling wave, unable to maintain her balance, and she collapsed into Shen Shuheng’s arms.

Shen Shuheng held her with one arm while swinging her sword with the other to guard against the hidden attackers. The scent of blood was everywhere; someone’s blood splattered across her face, feeling warm against her skin. The smell was nauseating, but the clear, cold fragrance from her Master helped dispel some of the sickness.

The enemies refused to show themselves. At this rate, they would all die here.

“They are ‘Hidden Demons’ a unit specialized in sneak attacks,” Gu Mian said calmly.

“Is there any way to see them?” the others asked, their voices raspy with fear and despair.

“What if we cover them in a different color?” Shen Shuheng sent a voice transmission to Gu Mian.

“It might work.”

Suddenly, Shen Shuheng felt a sharp pain in her neck. Her Master had buried her face in the crook of her neck and bitten into her flesh. A tingling, numbing sensation spread from where her Master was sucking her blood.

Shen Shuheng felt like if this continued, she wouldn’t be able to stand either. She had to resolve the crisis first. “Master, A-Heng will give you more blood in a moment. Please, not right now,” she whispered, tugging at her Master’s sleeve.

Fu Xueke looked up. Her blood-red pupils were like a raging fire, having burned away her usual cold stillness. Blood stained her lips. She traced them with her index finger before pressing the blood-stained finger against Shen Shuheng’s brow.

She gave Shen Shuheng a seductive smile, her voice full of enchantment. “Mine.”

Shen Shuheng looked at her and nodded. “Yes, I am Master’s.”

She didn’t know why her Master had suddenly become like this a complete departure from her immortal-like, cold self. At this moment, she looked like a soul-stealing demoness, Shen Shuheng would have given her anything.

She decided to settle her Master within the alchemical book she had acquired; it was an independent, safe space. She took the book from her storage bag and sent Fu Xueke inside.

Then, Shen Shuheng shouted, “Are there any talisman cultivators here? Give me your cinnabar! I have a plan!”

“Yes! Here!” The talisman cultivators hurriedly handed over their cinnabar.

Shen Shuheng distributed the cinnabar to Gu Mian, Chu Qingshui, and the others. “Mix it with water and throw it toward the direction the arrows are coming from! Throw it far!”

The red cinnabar water splashed out like a rain of blood, coating everything in the vicinity in red. “Alchemists, cast Illumination Spells all at once! Talisman users, draw Haste Talismans! Sword cultivators, use the talismans and kill the enemy!” Shen Shuheng commanded via voice transmission.

A massive burst of white light flared up. The combined power of so many Illumination Spells made the area as bright as day. They saw blood-red shapes moving through the air—the Hidden Demons’ tracks had been revealed by the cinnabar water.

The sword cultivators, empowered by the Haste Talismans, lunged at the moving red spots. Deep blue liquid splattered as they struck.

“Kill them! Avenge our fellow disciples!” one student roared in anger. The others joined in. For many of them, this was their first real-world experience, and seeing their friends die before their eyes left them feeling helpless and furious.

Shen Shuheng’s movement was incredibly faster even than the disciples using Haste Talismans. She became a series of phantoms weaving through the crowd, her sword light followed by the screams of Hidden Demons.

Suddenly, a Hidden Demon attacked her from behind. It lunged at her, but only struck an afterimage. Shen Shuheng’s figure blurred, and with a horizontal sweep of her blade, she severed the demon’s head.

Then, she thought of her Abnormal Fire. The red flame leapt from her palm. “Go!” The fire possessed a spiritual will; following Shen Shuheng’s mind, it burned wherever she directed it. It landed on a demon, and in an instant, the flames engulfed him, leaving him howling in agony.

The smell of burnt flesh spread everywhere, completely masking the scent of blood. “Make the fire bigger! Burn more of them!” Shen Shuheng commanded.

One Hidden Demon, hearing her words, was so terrified that he tried to run the moment he saw the fire. But the tongues of the Abnormal Fire lashed out, wrapping around him.

Using Hidden Demons to practice my sword skills isn’t bad, she thought. To kill them, one had to be fast, accurate, and ruthless. Her sword moves became increasingly fluid. Leaving the Abnormal Fire to play outside, she continued to strike down the demons. She applied all the techniques her Master had taught her. Wherever her sword light touched, frost began to form.

She wanted to finish this quickly so she could check on her Master.

Suddenly, a man in black appeared before them. “This group of wastes is truly useless. It seems I must do this myself.”