Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 61

“He Qingsheng!” Ji Shi exclaimed in shock, his voice strained.

“You’re actually alive!”

“Old man Ji Shi,” He Qingsheng smirked provocatively. “Since even you haven’t kicked the bucket yet, how could I rest in peace?”

A murderous aura spread before her, forming a defensive shield. He Qingsheng tugged at Ying Qujie, signaling for him to retreat into the spiritual realm.

Ying Qujie didn’t leave. Instead, he stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her, his voice firm. “I can help you.”

“We’re in the middle of a fight, Physician Ying.” Without turning her head, He Qingsheng patted his cheek reassuringly. “Be a good boy and hide for now.”

Her wrist was suddenly gripped, and a gentle yet immense surge of spiritual energy flowed from his palm, coursing through her soul. Instantly, she felt lighter all over.

He Qingsheng turned her head slightly, giving Ying Qujie a deep look. He held his longsword with stubborn determination, poised and ready, his entire demeanor as sharp as a blade.

She didn’t insist he retreat again, focusing instead on Ji Shi.

She quickly counted the people behind Ji Shi and grinned. “Ji Shi, why are all your followers old geezers? Aside from a few youngsters, has the Ji family run out of people? What a pity.”

Ji Shi caught the key implication in her words, his face instantly darkening. “What do you mean?”

He Qingsheng stared at the jade token in Ji Shi’s hand and continued taunting:

“After such a long separation, fate had me reunite with your dear nephew first.”

“Chen’er! What did you do to him?” Ji Shi raised the jade token, which flickered briefly before going dark. Trembling with rage, he pointed at He Qingsheng, his hand shaking violently.

Following the token’s guidance, He Qingsheng quietly memorized the faces of the Ji family members behind him.

She scoffed. “What kind of question is that? What do you think I did, besides grinding his bones to dust?”

Ji Shi gnashed his teeth. “I’ll kill you!”

“Everyone, attack!”

He Qingsheng’s figure flickered like a ghost, appearing abruptly beside a cultivator to Ji Shi’s right.

None of Ji Shi’s followers saw how she struck, only a scream rang out as the plain-faced cultivator’s disguise melted away, revealing the blue-belted, red-sashed robes of the Wenxin Sect.

A blade of murderous aura plunged deep between his shoulder blades, rendering both arms limp.

He Qingsheng kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel awkwardly on the ground.

The sudden turn of events threw the group into disarray.

He Qingsheng flicked his jade token up with her foot. “Wenxin Sect, Ming generation? Quite the seniority, and quite the devious mind too. Instead of seeking your own opportunities, you collude with these lowlifes to rob your own juniors, no wonder you’re still stuck at the peak of Nascent Soul.”

“What do you know?!” The pinned Wenxin disciple, as if struck on a raw nerve, glared back at her with venomous hatred.

“You’re just like Ming Zhi and all those other talented people, looking down on me… You just had better luck, better opportunities!”

He roared, venting his grievances in one long tirade, only to realize the person restraining him had already changed.

And He Qingsheng hadn’t even been listening.

While he was ranting, the woman in green had seized the moment, swift and ruthless, she cut down two Ji family disciples right in front of Ji Shi.

“You think that move was pretty slick too, right?” A clear male voice, its cadence eerily similar to He Qingsheng’s, chimed in.

The Wenxin Sect disciple turned his head in shock, his pupils contracting into thin slits as he saw the pill held right before his mouth. The Twelve-Wall Poison had been wreaking havoc in recent years, its effects especially severe. Unlike the swift death dealt by He Qingsheng, he had no idea what horrors awaited him if he swallowed this pill. Driven by sheer survival instinct, he began thrashing violently.

The others were too engrossed in battle to notice the situation unfolding here.

By the time He Qingsheng finished off the last of the Ji family members, Ji Shi finally deigned to intervene, yanking his junior disciple away at the last moment to evade the fatal strike.

“He Qingsheng!”

“Hmm? Calling, calling, calling, your ancestor is right here.”

Ji Shi, an elder of the Zhenyuan Sect’s main peak, had been at the early-stage Tribulation Transcendence realm for fifty-seven years.

For cultivators who had reached the Mahayana stage, even advancing a single minor realm was like crossing an insurmountable chasm. Fifty-seven years wasn’t long, but there was no guarantee Ji Shi hadn’t made progress.

After exchanging three moves with him, He Qingsheng seized the perfect moment to snatch the jade token from his waist. Gripping Ying Qujie, she shot into the sky like a meteor, vanishing beyond the horizon.

With the Wenxin Sect disciple controlling the earthen walls severely injured, the resistance to their escape diminished greatly. He Qingsheng nimbly dodged attacks, weaving left and right, and soon left their pursuers far behind.

“Elder Ji… should we still give chase?” The sole surviving Zhenyuan Sect disciple asked, trembling.

Ji Shi’s face darkened. After a long pause, he finally forced out two words through gritted teeth: “No need.”

“As per the lord’s orders, we’ll continue guarding the exit of the secret realm.” Ji Shi closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Killing her… is only a matter of time.”

…

After the jade token indicated the final direction, He Qingsheng swiftly executed the last Ji family disciple with a single stroke. The token dimmed completely, rendered useless.

Having grown accustomed to drifting like a ghost, she often forgot to avoid the blood when killing. It splattered across her face, but she paid it no mind.

She didn’t recognize this disciple, but she had seen him before, the same one who had ambushed and killed Brother Fu Liu, the senior disciple who loved performing chest-shattering stunts.

Kneeling beside the corpse, He Qingsheng’s pitch-black eyes reflected the crimson glow, tinged with a faint red. She tilted her head slightly, as if searching for the right spot.

Then, her fingers curled into claws, plunging deep into his chest and wrenching out a still-warm heart.

Dark-red baleful energy coiled around her feet, eagerly devouring the corpse until nothing remained.

A strange sensation washed over her. When her gaze met Ying Qujie’s concerned eyes, her inhuman aura peaked.

“Physician Ying, look, how funny. Their hearts… aren’t even black.”

She held the blood-drenched organ up to Ying Qujie.

“Why aren’t you laughing? Isn’t it hilarious? When he killed that senior disciple from the neighboring mountain, he impaled the man’s three-year-old daughter on his halberd… Yet someone like him, his heart is still red.”

The heart was right in front of him, but Ying Qujie showed not a trace of fear.

His warm fingertips brushed against her cheek as he carefully wiped away the bloodstains with patient focus.

His eyes held neither pity nor indifference. He Qingsheng stared, puzzled, trying to decipher the emotion within.

Only much later would she realize, it was heartache.

He Qingsheng asked, “Aren’t you afraid?”

Ying Qujie calmly took one of her hands, meticulously cleaning the blood from between her fingers. “Do you plan to kill me?”

He Qingsheng froze. “What if I do?”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

He Qingsheng: ???

The dark-red baleful energy coiled around her sword, etching a fierce, ominous aura into the silver-white blade. The sword’s energy, working in tandem with the baleful qi, diligently erased all traces of the corpse. Soon, the ground was pristine once more.

He Qingsheng stared for a moment before tossing the remaining heart to the baleful aura. She stood up with a careless air, tilting her chin toward Ying Qujie:

“See, Physician Ying? This is the Twelve Walls. Even casually throwing out trash would probably hit a few of my enemies. You could stay in the Wenxin Sect, seeking immortality and enlightenment, save lives if you want to heal, kill if you wish. Either way, it’s better than following me around.”

“I’m going to kill every Zhenyuan Sect disciple in this secret realm. Those five from the Wenxin Sect aren’t bad at heart. You should leave with them once the realm opens…”

The soft touch on her lips was fleeting.

He Qingsheng froze completely, rooted to the spot.

Trapped within the circle of Ying Qujie’s arms, she felt his scorching breath against her ear.

“This is the reason.”

His thumb brushed over her lips, traced along her jawline, and finally settled on the slender, pale nape of her neck.

It was a possessive, unyielding stance.

Held in this embrace, she was subjected to a deep, lingering kiss, laden with the most profound desire.

“It’s different from the mortal world now. I can heal your wounds. You could have kept pretending to know nothing, kept me by your side. Why didn’t you?”

Ying Qujie’s murmur carried a mix of sorrow and grievance, as though accusing her.

“You know. You’ve always known.”

Their breaths intertwined in a strange kiss, both with eyes wide open, their reflections clear in each other’s gaze. The closest distance, yet worlds apart.

Did she truly know nothing?

The answer rising from the depths of her heart negated that thought.

Yet, she was unwilling to face it.

There was no denying Ying Qujie was special, which was precisely why he couldn’t wander with her. She bore a vendetta steeped in blood; he did not.

In her original plan, once matters in the mortal world were settled, Ying Qujie should have remained there, living peacefully as a physician, saving lives, untouched by strife.

Even after reuniting in the Twelve Walls, she’d rather he stayed with the Wenxin Sect than follow her.

“I won’t leave.”

He Qingsheng snapped back to reality, pushing out of Ying Qujie’s embrace.

She retreated several steps, looking up at the sky, down at the ground, plucking flowers and examining grass, anything to busy herself in her awkward state.

Ying Qujie, in stark contrast, remained composed and gentle, gazing at her solemnly as he enunciated each word: “Shengsheng, I won’t leave. But don’t let it trouble you. If you don’t wish it, I won’t appear before you.”

He Qingsheng glanced at him in confusion. Her reaction seemed to wound him, and he smiled bitterly. “You don’t want me to? I understand.” His expression dimmed like that of a puppy about to be abandoned by its owner.

Pitiful, unaware of what it had done wrong.

But the puppy had done nothing wrong.

“Buliuchen, enough playing,” Ying Qujie called softly. “It’s time to go.”

The longsword, which had been flitting around entwined with the baleful aura, halted midair before clattering to the ground. The baleful aura poked at it, and the sword flopped over like a resigned fish, somehow managing to convey utter despair despite being an inanimate object.

Ying Qujie called again, his voice even more desolate.

Buliuchen straightened, reluctantly parting from the baleful aura, glancing back repeatedly as though bidding farewell.

He Qingsheng inexplicably felt like she was watching some tragic interspecies drama, a sudden irritation prickling at her.

The scraping sound of the longsword dragging on the ground seemed like a quiet whimper.

Keeping someone under her watchful eye was probably safer than letting them secretly follow her and risk trouble.

“Children shouldn’t drag their feet when walking,” He Qingsheng pinched the bridge of her nose. “Never mind, stay-”

Before she could finish, Buliuchen sprang up in an instant, bounding toward her with unrestrained glee.

He Qingsheng dodged hastily, “Hey, hey, hey! No need to swing that sword at me right away!”

Amid the chase, she turned and caught a glimpse of Ying Qujie, whose eyes crinkled with laughter, as if filled with a sky full of stars.