Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 48

As the sky paled with the coming dawn, Shen Sha, who had been sleeping on the floor, quietly rolled up her bedding and rose to wash.

Despite her exceptionally robust build, her movements were nimble. She sat like a tiger but moved with the agility of a vigorous leopard. Having followed Shen Fuxin and the others for a long time, Shen Sha maintained her habit of rising at first light. Even though she no longer needed to go to the market to slaughter pigs, she could not sleep; she was always the earliest to wake.

She had not yet learned the Cleansing Technique, and realizing she had not washed her hair for several days, she went to the waterfall to collect a bucket of water. Shen Sha let down her hair and had just turned her back when she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

She flicked the water droplets from her hands and slowly straightened her posture. She did not look back but tilted her head, listening intently.

The shoes crushed the withered leaves on the ground with a sharp crackling sound. Someone drew a sword from its scabbard three paces behind her, their voice cold and devoid of emotion. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

A sword light radiating a biting chill swept past the ends of Shen Sha’s hair, shearing off a lock of her dark red tresses. Shen Sha recognized the voice behind her. Though startled, she was unarmed and had no choice but to grab the wooden bucket on the ground, flinging the full bucket of water toward the person behind her.

The reaction etched into her divine soul prompted Shen Sha to use spiritual energy. In an instant, the clear water thrown at the person took shape, resembling a silver dragon endowed with a skeleton. It charged toward the person’s face with the strength of unbreakable steel.

The brilliant sword light collided with the silver dragon woven of water in mid-air, letting out a thunderous roar. Shen Sha gripped her severed red hair and looked at the white-clad cultivator who had been forced back a step by the water dragon. She asked in confusion, “Sect Leader Ye Xiao?”

Ye Xiao’s grip on her sword tightened. Her gaze meticulously traced the features of Shen Sha’s face, but the name on the tip of her tongue was swallowed back down. It was not her. A flash of disappointment crossed Ye Xiao’s heart. She did not have such red hair; in her memory, her long hair was black and shiny like oil pressed from hemp seeds.

At this moment of confrontation, Shen Fuxin and Ji Ting opened their doors and came out. Arriving at the same time was Jiang Daileng, who came running out hurriedly, dragging her shoes. She threw her arms around Ye Xiao, patting her master’s back as if soothing a child, repeatedly whispering, “Calm down, Master, please calm down. These are the fellow cultivators who passed by to rest yesterday. Master, you have forgotten again.”

Ye Xiao stood there with a vacant expression, her long sword falling to the ground with an unconscious clang. She asked, “Is it not that my Eldest Disciple has returned?”

Jiang Daileng held her tightly and said firmly, “There is no Eldest Disciple. You only took me as your student.”

Oh, so that was how it was. Ye Xiao gradually relaxed, allowing Jiang Daileng, who was already taller than her, to circle her and protect her in a subtle protective stance. She remembered once holding Jiang Daileng like this back when she was just a child biting her fingers. Raising a child was much more exhausting than cultivation; fortunately, someone was willing to lend a hand.

There was no Eldest Disciple.

Ye Xiao blinked. Signs of age appeared the moment her eyelids drooped, yet her gray hair vanished completely the next instant she opened her eyes before it could even grow from the roots. All that remained was the side effect brought by her longevity, a side effect called exhaustion.

She clearly did not remember Shen Fuxin and the others, yet she acted based on Jiang Daileng’s words like a blind person relying on a cane. Ye Xiao bent over to pick up the long sword and said apologetically, “I have forgotten again. Fellow cultivators have not eaten yet, have you? Daileng and I shall make some clear noodle soup.”

Shen Fuxin suddenly interrupted her, “No need.”

Ye Xiao stared at her blankly, and Jiang Daileng frowned. Shen Fuxin grabbed Ji Ting’s sleeve, dragging her toward the woodshed from yesterday. “Our uninvited arrival is already a disturbance. Today, it is our turn to cook.”

Ji Ting stumbled a couple of steps as she was pulled, leaning close to Shen Fuxin’s ear to whisper, “You know how to cook?”

Shen Fuxin pushed open the woodshed door and gave her a sharp look. “How could that be possible?”

She went straight to the stove and saw the leftover cabbage leaves from the last time lying there. The leaves were slightly curled and wilted, just as they were yesterday. The outermost leaf had been bitten through by an insect. At this very moment, exactly where that familiar insect hole was, a sleek, large cockroach was perched and eating.

Ji Ting stood in the same spot Shen Sha had stood yesterday, hesitating for a moment before saying with difficulty, “Has your father’s soul returned?”

Shen Fuxin looked at this cockroach, which was identical to the one from yesterday, and shook her head. This time, she swatted it dead cleanly and kicked the carcass into the stove fire that had not yet gone out.

“It is not him,” Shen Fuxin looked down as the cockroach’s body crackled in the flames. “The spiritual energy thread is not there. This is just an ordinary bug.”

Everything was exactly as it had been. The most terrifying thing was precisely this normalcy. While they stood in silence before the stove fire, Ye Xiao arrived at the woodshed door. Her voice was the same as yesterday as she asked them warmly, “There are still fish in the lake. I shall have Daileng catch two. Do you two young friends eat fish?”

Shen Fuxin looked at Ji Ting, meeting her gaze. Enough. Such coincidences had happened too many times. Shen Fuxin quickly looked away, leaving the puzzled Ji Ting standing there as she rose and said, “Then we shall trouble the Sect Leader.”

Shen Sha sat by the waterfall drying her hair. Jiang Daileng sat next to her, looking down at the cascading water. Shen Sha was used to being alone; if no one spoke to her, she could remain silent all day. However, Jiang Daileng seemed somewhat restless in the silence. She changed her sitting position and picked up her sword to polish it, finally unable to hold back. “What exactly did you come here for?”

To kill Fuxin’s father. He was reborn as a cockroach stealing food in your kitchen and was refined by her. This thought crossed Shen Sha’s mind, but of course, she could not say it. So, she maintained a mountain-like stillness and coldly spoke four words, “Just passing through.”

Jiang Daileng naturally did not believe her. She looked toward the woodshed where her master had disappeared. Ji Ting had said something that made Ye Xiao laugh. Her Master was truly happy.

Jiang Daileng rested her chin on her hand, watching the woodshed as smoke rose from it and the sound of a spatula hitting a pan echoed out. She closed her eyes and listened quietly, momentarily returning to that year. Which year that was, Jiang Daileng could no longer remember clearly. Was it ten years ago? A hundred years ago? Perhaps even further. She really could not remember. Since that person left, the Qingwu Sect had become even more desolate. Fortunately, as time passed, her Master became lost in her inner demons and forgot everything she was not supposed to forget.

Why exactly did they come here?

Jiang Daileng opened her eyes, stood up, and walked into the woodshed. Shen Fuxin was standing by the pile of chopped wood while her Master chatted away with her, talking about sword techniques and mental cultivation methods. Shen Fuxin did not speak; she just listened quietly.

Ji Ting was frying eggs for noodles; there were only eggs and noodles here, just like yesterday. She carried out a large bowl of noodles identical to the one from yesterday and placed it on the same table. The others sat in the same seats as yesterday. Shen Fuxin took a mouthful of noodles. Underneath the clear soup sat a poached egg. Although Ji Ting had made the noodles today, the taste was exactly the same as yesterday.

She looked up at the barrier hanging over their heads. For Shen Fuxin, this was the first day of repetition. But for Ye Xiao and Jiang Daileng, which day of repetition was this?

After the meal, Ji Ting and Shen Sha went to wash the dishes, and Shen Fuxin took a walk around the mountain of the Qingwu Sect. She walked down the path they had taken to reach the sect, only to find that the place that should have been the entrance was covered by a large patch of waist-high weeds. With a flick of her finger, a flame instantly burned the weeds to ashes.

What was revealed before her eyes was a blank space. There were no stairs and no ground, only a vast, snow-like pure white void.

This barrier has trapped us all like a bubble, Shen Fuxin thought. The barrier enclosing the Qingwu Sect had severed time and space. Was there still a mountain beyond this mountain? Probably not. If they were trapped here long enough, the situation outside would likely have changed entirely. What they could see from the mountain peak was merely what the barrier chose to show them.

It turned out that not only was the legendary Eldest Disciple a ghost, but they were all also insects trapped in amber. They had been in silent stasis here for who knows how many years, in a state between life and death. Why was Ji Ting’s teleportation barrier able to break into this place?

Shen Fuxin lowered her eyes. She sat on the mountain stairs for an unknown amount of time until dusk fell. Only then did she return along the stairs, seeing that persimmon tree again on the way. Shen Fuxin stopped and reached out to pick one. The moment she reached out, a sword was held against her neck.

Jiang Daileng had followed her for an unknown amount of time and was now almost unable to suppress her emotions. She said almost frantically, “Who are you people? Why do you know the secret of the Qingwu Sect?”

Shen Fuxin ignored her threat and picked the persimmon. She said gently, “Have you eaten clear noodle soup every single day all these years?”

Jiang Daileng was stunned. “What?”

A water sword silently manifested in Shen Fuxin’s left hand. She stabbed the sword into Jiang Daileng’s thigh with a backhand strike. Her protective spiritual energy prevented Jiang Daileng from cutting her throat. At the moment Jiang Daileng gasped in pain, Shen Fuxin snatched the sword from her hand and threw it into the rushing waterfall.

“My sword,” Jiang Daileng said angrily, “give me back my sword!”

“There is no need for me to go pick it up and return it to you.”

Shen Fuxin was no longer in a hurry to go up the mountain. She sat beside the immobilized Jiang Daileng, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at the waterfall. “Tomorrow morning, this sword will return on its own, will it not? Also, you were not trying to interrogate me just now; you actually wanted to kill me.”

She summoned another water sword and pierced Jiang Daileng’s other thigh.

“You wanted to see if I, after being killed, would appear at the Qingwu Sect again tomorrow, and if I would appear in that so-called empty room you have,” Shen Fuxin turned back, staring at Jiang Daileng’s face which had turned pale from pain, and smiled. “Does it hurt? I will not help you. Anyway, it will be better tomorrow, will it not, Jiang Daileng?”

Hearing her name spoken so intimately, Jiang Daileng looked at Shen Fuxin as if she were a ghost. Shen Fuxin summoned a third water sword, her gaze shifting downward toward her throat. “Since I am doing a good deed, I shall help you try it out.”

To Shen Fuxin’s surprise, Jiang Daileng endured the pain and let out a beast-like pant. Looking down at her in the darkness of the night, Shen Fuxin discovered she was laughing.

“It is useless,” Jiang Daileng gritted her teeth and laughed. “I tried it on myself long ago, and I tried it on my Master. It is useless.”

Shen Fuxin became interested. Jiang Daileng seemed to protect her Master like a child, yet she had actually been ruthless enough to kill her? Shen Fuxin was like a Dream-Devouring Tapir; she always enjoyed chewing on the pain of others. She smiled and said, “In that case, was your Eldest Disciple also killed by you?”

At the mention of the Eldest Disciple, Jiang Daileng’s face darkened. She spoke two words coldly and sharply, “No. She abandoned us and left on her own.”