Master is Also Running Away from Marriage Today (Transmigration) - Chapter 12

When the paper crane arrived at Qingbo Peak, Mu Ling was in deep meditation.

Mu Ling had recently reached the Nascent Soul stage. She was self-aware enough to know that her cultivation wouldn’t advance further in the short term, so her meditation was merely to consolidate her foundation and expand her spiritual sea.

A cultivator’s spiritual sea was a small world of its own, closely tied to their cultivation level and state of mind. Mu Ling’s spiritual sea had originally been a barren wasteland shrouded in black mist. But after reaching the Nascent Soul stage, a small, luminous spring had emerged in the desolate land, and flowers and trees had gradually begun to grow. The range of the black mist had also receded significantly.

Since she couldn’t advance in cultivation for the next few years anyway, Mu Ling decided to expand her spiritual sea further, hoping to cultivate a beautiful flower field.

At the same time, her spiritual sea currently couldn’t accommodate any magical artifacts or vessels imbued with spiritual power only inanimate objects of great personal importance, such as half of the Heavenly Spirit Sword Manual and a booklet she had transcribed containing key plot points from the original story.

Now, another booklet had appeared in Mu Ling’s spiritual sea. On its cover, bold and flamboyant characters read: The Growth Records of a Genius Girl.

This genius girl, of course, referred to Lin Qingge.

Most cultivators in the immortal realm came from noble or wealthy families. Unlike commoners, who might never even get a chance to test their spiritual roots in their lifetime, noble-born disciples were tested at birth. If they were found to possess single or dual spiritual roots, their families would pour the finest resources into nurturing them. Once these disciples matured, entered immortal sects, and achieved success, they would then repay their families, forming a blatant cycle of vested interests.

Such families were always willing to invest heavily in their descendants. By the time Lin Qingge became the foremost figure in the immortal realm, Mu Ling could already envision the endless stream of visitors flocking to her doorstep.

Mu Ling had no intention of entertaining countless families seeking parenting advice. So, she decided to plan ahead compiling her experiences in raising her little disciple into a manual. Once Lin Qingge’s fame soared, she would simply mass-print and sell it. By then, the royalties alone would make her obscenely wealthy!

“Today, my little disciple only ate three steamed rolls. Her tastes have always been light—even sweet and sour spare ribs couldn’t tempt her. She’s probably too focused on Foundation Establishment to care for mundane food. She’s also incredibly diligent, rising earlier than the roosters and sleeping later than the dogs. It’s a wonder she still looks so energetic every day, without a trace of exhaustion…”

After writing for a while, Mu Ling realized she had, as usual, only recorded her little disciple’s virtues without highlighting her own parenting expertise. To show sincerity, she racked her brain before guiltily stashing away the scattered snacks around her into her Qiankun pouch. Then, she added a few more lines:

“My disciple is excessively hardworking. Fearing that her brilliance may harm her, I fret day and night, unable to sleep. Thus, I must keep a close watch, occasionally distracting her with fine clothes and jewelry. I also scour for snacks to strengthen her constitution and urge her to rest properly, lest she obsess over sword practice all day…”

As she wrote, Mu Ling couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Just as she was about to revise, a frantic voice suddenly called from outside.

“Peak Master Mu, something terrible has happened!”

The paper crane’s voice was usually calm and unhurried. It was rare for it to sound so urgent.

Mu Ling’s heart skipped a beat, her hand trembling as the pen in her grip scratched a long, jagged line across the notebook.

When Lin Qingge awoke, she found herself in a pitch-black gorge.

The gorge was enveloped in darkness, as if a massive coffin lid had been pressed down upon it. The sky was oppressively gloomy, suffocating to the point of breathlessness. By the flickering glow of phosphorescent flames, she could make out an endless stretch of graves before her. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, and the ground was littered with the twisted corpses of bizarre, monstrous beasts.

Lin Qingge realized she was standing atop an unearthed grave. The tombstone bore the inscription: “Tomb of My Departed Husband, Yan Rufeng.” Yet, when she pushed open the coffin lid, there was no corpse inside only a small white jade box.

Something within the white jade box emitted a faint, eerie glow.

It must have been her who brought me here. What does she want?

A sudden flood of images surged through Lin Qingge’s mind: herself descending Qingbo Peak, deliberately concealing her strength and provoking Su Yue. Su Yue, predictably, took the bait just as planned. Knocking her unconscious and dumping her in the back mountains.

Lin Qingge bit her lower lip hard, her gaze settling on a black tower at the center of the graveyard. She recalled the warnings from the little creatures about the back mountains: “There’s a graveyard in the back mountains, sealed with a one-way barrier even the sect leader dares not trespass. At the center stands a black tower, hiding a peerless sword. Everyone says the sword has lost its spirit, but they don’t realize it’s merely dormant.” Now, she understood her predicament.

Her body ached fiercely, as if every joint had been shattered. A telltale sign of exhaustion, identical to the aftermath of the last time she had intervened in the dead of night, erasing the memories of those female disciples Lin Qingge had lured into the woods.

Back then, fearing her revenge plot might fail and she’d die at the hands of the demonic cultivators in the Eastern Forest tunnels, Lin Qingge had overheard four girls planning to join the immortal sect. She’d manipulated them into the Eastern Forest, where the tunnel-dwelling cultivators captured them. That way, even if she died, the girls’ sect would trace the clues back and slaughter the demonic cultivators in retaliation.

Lin Qingge never expected that the one she’d ensnared would be Mu Ling. Mu Ling, who would take her back to Qingbo Peak and give her a life she’d never dared dream of.

Would Mu Ling come looking for her now?

Remembering the creatures’ warnings about the graveyard being a “one-way journey,” Lin Qingge pressed her lips together, suddenly unwilling to dwell on the question. She forced herself to focus on the scene before her.

What did she bring me here for?

Lin Qingge’s eyes locked onto the white jade box in the center of the coffin.

Inside the box lay a single snow-white lotus seed, exuding an otherworldly fragrance. As if guided by some unseen force, Lin Qingge picked it up and placed it in her mouth.

The lotus seed dissolved instantly.

The moment it touched her tongue, it was as if a barrier in her mind had been violently torn away. A torrent of fragmented memories erupted like a geyser:

A girl, terrified of the dark, huddled beneath a shrine in a ruined temple. On a snowy night, a tattered old man returned. Watching the girl gnaw on a stale bun, he trembled as he pulled a red hair ribbon from his robe and tied it around her head, patting her affectionately. “Be good, child. Grandpa will save up to buy you new clothes someday.”

But the girl never got those new clothes.

Because the girl fought with the wealthy tyrant’s vicious dog for food, the tyrant killed her grandfather, the only family she had left— eaving her to gasp her last breaths in the muddy filth.

People came and went on the road, but no one dared to extend a helping hand to the girl. The stench of rotten earth filled her nose, the red string bracelet trampled into the mud, its color fading. Rain poured from the heavens like a deluge, and in her mind surged a hatred so violent it threatened to tear the world apart. Perhaps the heavens had finally heard her prayers, for through the curtain of rain, a pale hand reached out: “Do you want revenge?”

Then came the underground palace, where thousands fought to the death. After the woman she had saved plunged a knife into her chest, the girl trembled as she picked up the blade and killed for the first time. With shattered meridians and a desperate struggle, she emerged as the sole survivor from the carnage becoming a notorious blade in the hands of the Demon King.

Later, the girl slaughtered the tyrant’s entire household without a flicker of emotion, along with the entire sect the tyrant had relied upon. But she discovered that the tyrant’s family had secretly been colluding with the demonic race. Digging deeper, she learned the truth. The one who had truly orchestrated her grandfather’s death was the Demon King himself. It had all been a ploy to lure her into darkness.

The heavens were unjust. In the eyes of these so-called high and mighty cultivators, her grandfather’s life was nothing more than a withered leaf drifting from a tree crushed into dust without a second thought.

Later still, the girl failed in her assassination attempt on the Demon King. Barely escaping the demonic palace with her life, her martial arts crippled, she stumbled upon two manuals in a hidden realm.

One was the Heaven’s Ruin Art, capable of reforging shattered meridians. The cultivation process was perilous, granting immense power but gradually turning the practitioner bloodthirsty, cold, and ruthless, severing all ties of kinship. The further one progressed, the harder it became.

The other was the Celestial Spirit Sword Art, a renowned orthodox technique known for its unpredictability and ability to overcome strength with softness.

The girl chose the first without hesitation. In truth, she had no other choice.

The world had never shown her kindness. Covered in blood and filth, she had struggled through the mire of mortal suffering, unwilling and disdaining to start anew.

If the heavens were unjust, then she would defy them!

In the end, the girl succeeded in killing the Demon King.

She became the new Demon Sovereign, shrouding herself behind a mask and billowing crimson robes. None knew her origins or past. Mad and bloodthirsty, unrestrained, she was the true lunatic of legend in the mouths of the people.

…

Were these her memories?

Lin Qingge closed her eyes, suppressing the turmoil within.

The name of the Demon King, Yan Qi, could silence the cries of children at night. Lin Qingge had naturally heard of Yan Qi’s infamy. She just never imagined that the “her” within her body was Yan Qi herself!

The reason “she” had gone to such lengths to bring her here was likely to obtain this lotus seed.

As she swallowed the seed, Lin Qingge could clearly feel “her” presence growing stronger within her, while the pain in her body intensified.

Was she truly Yan Qi?

If she was, why had she become this frail and sickly? What did this lotus seed have to do with it?

Yet, based on past experience, after exhausting herself like this, it would be a long time before “she” appeared again.

Lin Qingge steadied herself against the tombstone as howls rose and fell around her. The thick scent of blood from the animals she had killed attracted wild wolves. Accompanied by rustling sounds, dozens of pairs of green eyes encircled the graveyard.

She tried to communicate with the wolves, but to her surprise, their eyes were blood-red, and they refused to obey her commands.

Already exhausted, Lin Qingge was forced to retreat step by step under the wolves’ relentless advance. Unconsciously, she backed into the black tower at the center of the graveyard, while the wolves closed in around her.

The alpha wolf leaped high, aiming for her throat.

Lin Qingge recalled Yan Qi’s memory of being thrown into a snake pit by the former Demon King: back then, Yan Qi had no cultivation and was bitten until not a single patch of skin remained intact.

My! Fate! Is! Mine!

Clenching her teeth, Lin Qingge glared at the wolves, a surge of overwhelming fury rising in her chest!

In the blink of an eye, a silken mermaid veil suddenly lashed out, forcefully flinging the alpha wolf aside.

“Little Qingge!”

Her pupils contracted as she saw the figure she never expected to appear, striding toward her with visible panic!

Behind him flickered scattered will-o’-the-wisps, beneath his feet lay the mangled corpses of beasts. Amidst the chaotic tombstones, under the oppressive clouds, within the sea of blood and carnage, Mu Ling seemed not to hesitate at all like a moth drawn to flame, like a butterfly diving into fire, he charged into this graveyard rumored to be a place of “no return”.

Her heart felt as if struck by something, suddenly aching and swelling. The rage that had clouded her mind slowly cleared.

“Shifu,” Lin Qingge heard herself call out. Before she even realized it, the little monster once dubbed by the Eastern Forest’s dark cultivators as “the one who never cries” felt cold liquid trickling down her cheeks. “You came!”

“Thank goodness you came.”