Mistress of the Underworld and Her Little Celestial Wife - Chapter 105

Mu Yin sat on the chair, watching the maids and guards bustling back and forth before her.

These people were all fake, conjured by Ah Qin using Magical Arts to keep Mu Yin company so she wouldn’t feel too lonely. Like animals in a zoo needing companion dogs, these magically created servants were Mu Yin’s ‘companion dogs.’

“Miss Mu Yin,” two phantom maids approached her with smiles. “How are you feeling today? Are you still unwell?”

Mu Yin shook her head.

She had been here for five full days. During this time, the people conjured by Ah Qin would cook for her, skillfully handling pots and pans. Perhaps they had once existed, because the meals they prepared were surprisingly delicious.

Even so, Mu Yin still felt uneasy, especially when these people got too close, it frightened her.

Beings created by Magical Arts, they looked human, spoke like humans, and even had the little flaws humans should have. Their realism felt absurd to Mu Yin, and it unsettled her.

She feared that if she stayed here too long, she might lose the ability to distinguish between real people and illusions. She was also afraid that one day, in a moment of confusion, she might believe this place was the real world.

The two maids sat with Mu Yin and chatted, mostly inquiring about her health. A few days ago, Mu Yin had tried to escape by climbing the wall but accidentally fell and had to stay in bed for several days.

“Since Miss Mu Yin is fine now, we’ll take our leave.”

Only after they left did Mu Yin rub her numb legs. The West Moon Kingdom wasn’t bad, except that people here rarely sat on chairs most of the time, they sat on carpets, which made her legs go numb after a while.

Mu Yin sighed and glanced out the window at the golden sky. There was no distinction between day and night here; the outside was always bathed in that same golden hue. To rest, she had to close all the doors and windows and cover them with thick, light-blocking curtains. Because of this, Mu Yin had nearly lost track of time she had only calculated the five days she’d been here by counting meals.

Ah Qin had been away for the past two days. After some thought, Mu Yin decided to take another risk and escape.

If the last twenty or thirty people of the West Moon Kingdom could choose to walk into that golden expanse in search of a way out, Mu Yin believed she could too.

Packing her things, she avoided the patrolling guards and climbed over a low wall at the back of the palace. This time, she didn’t have the misfortune of falling and being unable to get up she landed steadily on the ground.

The city gates were still under repair, so going there would surely get her caught. Fortunately, Ah Qin had only conjured people inside the palace and at the gates, the rest of the city remained desolate and empty. Mu Yin didn’t have to hide as she walked.

Reaching a section of the city wall, Mu Yin pushed aside the weeds and found the dog hole.

She hadn’t been idle these past few days. She had explored every corner of the West Moon Kingdom and finally discovered this hole, just large enough for a person to squeeze through. Without hesitation, Mu Yin crouched and crawled out.

When her hands touched the golden ground outside, she couldn’t resist lying down and running her fingers over it a few more times.

The tentacle felt slightly cool. Unable to tell whether it was from the sky or the ground, she could only sense that she was touching something invisible. Closing her eyes, she could faintly discern that the ground had a texture resembling jade or marble.

Mu Yin stood up, gazing at the endless expanse of gold. After a while, her vision began to blur.

She shook her head and decided to take things one step at a time, moving forward first.

With the sky and earth the same color, Mu Yin could barely tell she was walking forward at first. But as time passed, she lost all sense of direction and distance. Occasionally, she glanced back at the West Moon Kingdom, now just a tiny speck, like a drop in the ocean.

By the time the kingdom disappeared from view, Mu Yin was utterly exhausted.

She didn’t know the time, whether it was day or night, or even if she was heading the right way. It felt like she was walking in place, the scenery unchanging, as if she’d been on a treadmill for hours.

When hungry, she stopped to eat, then continued onward.

When her eyelids grew heavy and her legs and hips ached, she estimated she’d been walking for over ten hours and finally sat down.

By then, her vision had deteriorated. Even her own hand looked blurry when held before her face.

Beyond the blurriness, her eyes stung and burned, tears streaming uncontrollably, accompanied by nausea. She knew it was snow blindness being trapped in this golden expanse was no different from being stranded in a snowfield.

Just as dizziness and discomfort overwhelmed her, she sensed someone approaching.

“Since you can’t escape, why keep trying?”

Ahh Qin crouched beside her, gazing pityingly at the weakened Mu Yin lying on the ground. “Your eyes hurt, don’t they?”

Mu Yin lay there, panting. She cracked one eye open to look at Ah Qin before closing it in resignation, her consciousness quickly fading into darkness. She knew Ah Qin wouldn’t let her die, she’d be taken back safely.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious, but when something cool and soothing dripped into her eyes, she blinked them open weakly.

Ah Qin sat by the bed, holding a green fruit, its clear juice dripping into Mu Yin’s eyes. The pain faded quickly, replaced by relief.

“Awake?”

Ah Qin set the fruit aside and wiped her hands. “Why won’t you stay here with me? The entire West Moon Kingdom has only the two of us. We can do whatever we want.”

Mu Yin lay calmly on the bed. “You didn’t ask for my consent when you brought me here. So why stop me from leaving?”

Ah Qin pouted. “I’m not stopping you. Haven’t I let you run away every time?”

Mu Yin was speechless. So, she was supposed to be grateful?

Ah Qin didn’t make a sound, just obediently sat by Mu Yin’s bedside, looking like a wronged little wife with pleading eyes fixed on Mu Yin. Though her attitude was sincere, there wasn’t a trace of remorse in her gaze.

Mu Yin closed her eyes again to rest when she heard Ah Qin say, “We’re running low on food. I’ll need to go out to buy some these next couple days. Is there anything you’d like to eat?”

The person on the bed remained silent.

Unfazed, Ah Qin thought for a moment and continued, “I’ll buy more this time. There are some Jiangnan pastries that the palace cooks can’t make. I thought I’d bring some back for you. Hmm… How about I get you two new outfits too? I’ve always thought you’d look even prettier in brighter colors instead of those plain robes you usually wear.”

Mu Yin listened to Ah Qin’s rambling without responding, pretending to be asleep. Eventually, Ah Qin grew bored of talking to herself and gradually fell silent.

Gazing at Mu Yin, Ah Qin said, “If you need to rest, I won’t disturb you any longer. I’ll take my leave now.”

Only then did Mu Yin open her eyes to look at Ah Qin. “How many days will you be gone?”

Ah Qin replied cheerfully, “One day no, just half a day. Are you reluctant to see me go?”

“I never said that,” Mu Yin responded. “I was just asking.”

Hearing this, Ah Qin’s mood lifted. She took Mu Yin’s hand and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. The palace maids can keep you company so you won’t be too bored.”

Mu Yin glanced at their clasped hands and after a long pause, gave a slight nod. “I understand.”

When Ah Qin finally left the room, Mu Yin let out a long sigh of relief.

While Ah Qin had held her hand, Mu Yin had discreetly left a few imperceptible spores on her clothes. Currently cut off from the outside world unable to contact the mushrooms or even use her teleportation jade pendant Mu Yin could only hope Ah Qin would carry those spores out and somehow send a distress signal.

Ah Qin soon departed from the place.

She emerged from the West Moon Kingdom on a misty morning. It must have rained the night before, as the bluestone pavement was still damp, slippery beneath Ah Qin’s feet.

She seemed to have arrived too early.

The shops along the street hadn’t opened yet, and even breakfast stalls were scarce, leaving the Jiangnan town eerily empty.

Ah Qin felt a twinge of unease then sensed a sudden gust of wind behind her. She swiftly dodged as a streak of sword energy slashed straight into the stone wall at the end of the road, shattering it with a thunderous crash.

Hong Zhuang charged out from an alley with her disciples, pointing her sword at Ah Qin. “Where have you taken the Young Mistress?”

The other Five Skandha Sect disciples glared at Ah Qin sternly, ready to attack at any moment.

Ah Qin blinked in surprise, then broke into a smile. Clasping her hands behind her back, she said, “Oh, it’s you, Miss Hong Zhuang. Don’t worry, Mu Yin is doing just fine with me perfectly comfortable.”

Hong Zhuang fumed. “Release the Young Mistress at once! This is your only warning!”

Ah Qin remained unmoved, merely smiling at them.

Hong Zhuang’s expression darkened. She turned to her disciples and commanded, “Formation!”

The disciples of the Five Skandha Sect instantly rushed out, surrounding Ah Qin in a tight circle. Yet Ah Qin remained calm and unhurried, eyeing them as she said, “Out of respect for your young mistress, I don’t wish to fight you today. She’s doing just fine with me. I suggest you all go back and tell your eldest lady to simply marry another.”

Hong Zhuang was furious. Did this woman think their young mistress could be replaced so casually? What did she take the Five Skandha Sect for?!

But before Hong Zhuang could even open her mouth to curse, a plume of black smoke swirled across the stone path. Then, Si Lingqing appeared not far in front of Ah Qin, her face dark with anger as she locked eyes with her.

Ah Qin’s previously relaxed expression instantly turned grave. She could sense the overwhelming pressure radiating from Si Lingqing, this was no ordinary opponent she was facing.

Having stolen someone else’s wife, and now with the aggrieved party right before her, Ah Qin had no intention of sticking around. She turned to flee, only to suddenly feel a heavy weight dragging at her feet.

Looking down, Ah Qin saw that a pitch-black vortex had formed beneath her without warning. Countless spectral arms, rotting flesh clinging to bone, reached out from the abyss, gripping her tightly as eerie voices moaned, “Come, join us in hell!”

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