After Swapping Identities With My Archenemy - Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Its Good and Evil

Jiang Huaiyi never imagined these people could sleep so soundly in the middle of a primeval forest. If she and Shen Wensi hadn’t returned mid-journey, the group might have been found dead by morning. It was a dark irony, but she couldn’t afford to waste time feeling amused.

She went around, delivering sharp slaps to each of their faces. The figures on the beds, previously sleeping like logs, blinked their eyes open in a daze. Since they hadn’t entered a deep coma yet, they were still savable.

As the cold mountain wind circulated through the room, waking everyone fully, Jiang Huaiyi let out a long breath of relief. It seemed the window had been blown shut by accident, nearly leading to disaster.

Chu Lianxue struggled to sit up, her body numb from the chill. Still groggy and nursing a headache, she touched her swollen cheek wondering if Jiang Huaiyi had overdone it with the slapping and asked hoarsely, “What happened? Is it dawn? Why is it so cold… who opened the door?”

Jiang Huaiyi handed her a water bottle. Chu Lianxue drank greedily, leaning against the wall until her mind cleared. Suddenly, she yelled, “Who! Who hit me?!”

Jiang Huaiyi guiltily looked away, focusing on the others who were still too out of it to register the assault. Chu Lianxue took another swig of water, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. She broke into a cold sweat. “Were we… carbon monoxide poisoned?”

Jiang Huaiyi nodded. “The window got shut somehow. I was attacked while I was out on watch.”

The group stared at her in shock. Song Rong scrambled up, checking Huaiyi over. “Are you okay?”

Jiang Huaiyi spun in a circle to show she was fine, though her legs were still trembling slightly. She recounted the night’s events, omitting the more sensitive details of her conversation with the Jiao.

“That monster! Is she even human?” Mu Ze cursed, hearing about Zheng Ji’s ambush.

Jiang Huaiyi felt a pang of awkwardness. Technically, Zheng Ji wasn’t human anymore—she was a walking corpse with a human mind. She calmed the group, explaining that Zheng Ji had been dealt with, which finally allowed the tension in the room to dissipate.

The Separation

Jiang Huaiyi then explained their plan to find the Spiritual Spring. While the others were intrigued, they felt their part in this journey was over. They had seen the Jiao and saved Xiao Zhao; for them, the mission was a success.

Song Rong smiled through her grogginess. “Seeing a Jiao is enough for a lifetime. Plus, we saved Xiao Zhao. I can’t wait to tell my family about this it’s way more exciting than any of my dad’s old stories.”

They decided to stay at the hut to wait for the police. They would keep the extra supplies and look after Xiao Zhao, allowing Jiang Huaiyi and Shen Wensi to move quickly and lightly.

“We’ll wait for the authorities here. You two go on,” Chu Lianxue said, her plan already forming.

As they prepared to leave, Jiang Huaiyi noticed her hair—once dry and brittle from her “condition”—now looked almost like a normal person’s. Hope sparked in her chest. Perhaps finding this spring would finally allow her to return to a normal life and find her missing Master. She couldn’t share these heavy thoughts with her martial sister or uncle; only Shen Wensi understood the true stakes.

The morning light began to bleed through the trees. Jiang Huaiyi adjusted her backpack and looked back at the group. The window was now propped wide open. They waved goodbye, a simple, warm gesture that felt like a snapshot of a life she wanted to keep.

The Red Light

Shen Wensi walked beside her, blocking the biting wind. Jiang Huaiyi reached into her bag and pulled off the cloth covering the snake-headed lampstand.

The scales on the artifact had all flared out, and the ruby eyes were now emitting a faint, eerie red glow. She turned the head forward, using it as a guide. Science says snakes have poor vision and rely on “heat-sensing” pits to track prey; she wondered if this lampstand functioned similarly, seeking the thermal signature of the spring.

Xiao Die was perched atop the backpack, nestled in a makeshift nest of oilcloth and cotton. The cat looked perfectly content to be carried through the wild.

They followed the trail left by the massive creature from the night before. As they wound their way up the mountain, the signs of the Jiao’s passage grew more obvious flattened grass, broken branches, and a distinct energy in the air.

Finally, emerging from a thicket of withered grass, they saw the behemoth again, its massive body shimmering in the early light.

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