Reborn as a Human Cauldron, But I'm the Top - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Release Bite

After much effort, Shen Yirong managed to make a decent looking pot of fish stew. She carried it towards the main hall, but when she arrived, she found the main door locked; the person wasn’t inside.

Shen Yirong didn’t know where to find her. Although she was a cultivation vessel, no one managed her, and Song Yin appeared randomly, emerging like a ghost.

Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine. Shen Yirong turned around and saw Song Yin standing behind her.

She refreshed!

Shen Yirong bowed, holding the fish soup, “Venerable One.”

Shen Yirong could only see the hem of the other person’s clothes sweep past her, followed by the sound of the main door opening. She was left standing there.

Before coming, Shen Yirong had mentally prepared herself, but upon seeing Song Yin, she was still nervous. Aside from their past grievances, there was Song Yin’s imposing aura.

But she wasn’t entirely respectful while kneeling, muttering internally: Venerable One, I still remember you crying!

Shen Yirong only thought this because she felt ignored and resentful. Song Yin never really cried. The only time she cried wasn’t for herself.

At that time, Shen Yirong felt a little better and wanted to go out to see the snow. Holding an umbrella and looking at the white world, she couldn’t help but clutch at the snow, and then she fell ill.

She was vaguely conscious during her illness. She thought she was going to die there and was terrified.

She was afraid that if she died, someone else would take on her role as the villain, and she was also afraid that Song Yin would repeat this plotline over and over.

Ultimately, she was afraid of her own demise.

Perhaps she was afraid of too many things, as she managed to pull through. The first person she saw when she struggled to open her eyes was Song Yin.

Song Yin hadn’t slept for a long time, and her eyes were red from crying.

Before Shen Yirong could speak, she was enveloped in a tight hug. Song Yin’s voice choked in her ear, “Master, it’s alright now.”

“Get in here,” Song Yin said coldly.

Shen Yirong’s mouth twisted. The memory and reality were too disparate, but she quickly adjusted. She carried the fish soup in with a plastered smile.

“Venerable One, this is fish soup that this lowly one specially prepared for you.”

Song Yin looked down at the bowl of fish soup. The fish inside had been pulverized by the vessel. Bone and flesh were indistinguishable, yet the fish head was intact, its dead eyes staring at Song Yin, seemingly protesting its undeserved death.

The gills hadn’t been removed, and although the scales were mostly scraped off, a couple were still floating in the soup.

Song Yin smiled, her eyes fixed on this audacious vessel, “Are you trying to poison this Venerable One?”

Shen Yirong’s eyes widened, showing genuine distress.

She had worked hard all morning for this fish. She rushed over immediately after finishing, hoping to please her, yet the other person not only rejected the gesture but also falsely accused her.

This was intolerable! Today, Shen Yirong was going to teach this person what it meant to respect another person’s labor!

So she…

She plopped down and knelt, her eyes again filling with tears, “Venerable One, I’ve been wronged! This lowly one had no such intention.”

After saying that, she crawled two steps forward and grabbed Song Yin’s calf.

As soon as she embraced the leg, Shen Yirong realized something was amiss: it smelled so good.

Sensing a slightly improper tendency, she quickly reigned in her thoughts.

She had been a decent person for all three lives. This must be the effect of having too many dreams lately. Maybe she should find a medical cultivator to check her mind or ask those divine predictors from the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion to exorcise some evil spirits.

“Let go.”

Shen Yirong obediently released her, kneeling properly to the side. However, when she looked up, her eyes were still misty, making her look incredibly pitiful.

But no matter how pitiful she looked, Song Yin would not eat this!

However, Song Yin was in a rare good mood. She wanted to see what tricks this person was trying to pull.

Setting the eye-watering fish soup aside, Song Yin looked at Shen Yirong’s face with interest, then reached out a hand.

Shen Yirong leaned forward, placing her chin in Song Yin’s palm, and looked up at her.

Song Yin hadn’t expected her to be so proactive. She was about to assess the depth of the Great Peace Sword Cultivator’s shamelessness, but then she saw a touch of red spreading from the corner of the person’s eye.

This person rarely put on makeup, making the red mark all the more striking. Song Yin felt as if she had been scalded. She suddenly retracted her hand and fiercely wiped it on her clothes.

Although there was no expression on that face, Shen Yirong understood that she had been utterly rejected.

Her confidence shattered.

What is going on? Aren’t demon consorts supposed to act this way? Doesn’t this person love pinching my face?

Why?

Shen Yirong had never encountered such a difficult problem. Song Yin was more complicated than a math equation.

Song Yin hated herself. Just having this person resemble Master was enough to disturb her mind.

Master is Master. Master would never abandon her pride. Master, she…

Song Yin felt her rationality was soaked in a downpour, carried on a dilapidated small boat, capable of being overturned by the slightest breeze.

Shen Yirong keenly noticed something red emerging from Song Yin’s collar, climbing up, and fluctuating rapidly with Song Yin’s quickening breath.

Contrary to what some novels suggested, Song Yin’s dressing style was quite similar to her own in her past life. Despite having such a large harem, she looked quite ascetic.

Therefore, the item coming out of her collar could reach her cheek.

Instinct told Shen Yirong not to look. She closed her eyes and pressed her body to the floor, terrified that Song Yin, if unhappy, might take her life or gouge out her eyes.

“Cough!”

Song Yin’s muffled groan reached Shen Yirong’s ears. She felt that her attempt to show devotion today was ill-timed.

Also, why are there so many sick people in this Demonic Palace?

Despite her inner complaints, Song Yin’s gasps grew heavier, and the trailing sounds gradually rose in pitch.

The more Shen Yirong listened, the redder her face became, but her heart sank deeper.

What is happening? Song Yin is going to kill me, isn’t she?

Shen Yirong pressed herself lower, trying to minimize her presence.

The palace door was tightly closed, locking out the daylight. The sealed space with only the two of them and the gradually intensifying floral scent added an unspeakable ambiguity to the moment.

Shen Yirong recognized this scent. She immediately held her breath and silently recited the Heart-Clearing Incantation, but then the back of her neck heated up, rendering her preparations futile.

Her body felt alien. She involuntarily raised her head to look at Song Yin, who was slumped on the table.

She watched the vine pattern spread across Song Yin’s face. Shen Yirong reached out to undo the button on Song Yin’s collar, but as soon as she unfastened one, her hand was pressed down by the other person’s hand.

She saw Song Yin’s expression flicker between clarity and haze. When hazy, those usually deep eyes were moistened, aligning with the scene from her own ridiculous dream last night.

And so, Shen Yirong’s sanity also began to burn.

What exactly was her relationship with Song Yin?

Were they mutually respectful and loving master and disciple?

No, they weren’t. They were… They were…

They should be mutually hateful enemies, biting and tearing at each other until one side bled dry.

The crimson butterfly fluttered in her sea of consciousness. Shen Yirong’s rationality burned even faster.

She thought they weren’t enemies. She was Song Yin’s cultivation vessel, and now that the Master was in distress, she could only become a sacrifice.

“Come here.”

The Master is calling her, Shen Yirong thought vaguely.

Shen Yirong swayed like a thoughtless puppet, approaching Song Yin, gently resting her head on Song Yin’s thigh.

After a moment, she looked up and then clumsily reached out to touch Song Yin’s face. Her hands seemed to feel the scorching heat of the other’s breath, but for some reason, the eyes full of desire suddenly became alert.

Song Yin was filled with fury. She violently pushed Shen Yirong away and scolded, “Insolence!”

Shen Yirong was also jolted awake. Fragmented memories surged back. Her face turned pale, and she knelt down again.

“Venerable One, please calm your anger!”

Shen Yirong waited trembling for her judgment, but she only smelled the sudden scent of rust in the intense floral fragrance.

She secretly looked up and saw Song Yin fiercely biting her lower lip. The side of her lip was stained with shocking blood.

But this kind of pain was insufficient to control her inner demon.

Usually, the inner demon was very regular, but now it was becoming more frequent and chaotic, sometimes light, sometimes heavy.

She released her lip, about to bite down harder, but someone extended a hand toward her.

Her chaotic mind cleared for a moment. The face of the person in front of her became clear. That person was looking at her gently.

It wasn’t the humble attempt at pleasing of a cultivation vessel, nor was it the cold disgust of a person from the past. It was heartache.

In the harsh winter, Master would occasionally show such an expression.

At that time, Song Yin thought that perhaps her sincerity had moved Master, but in a blink, that trace of tenderness disappeared.

It was truly just a blink, so short that she thought it was her own delusion.

It was because she yearned so much that she imagined she had already attained it.

So, is this also an illusion?

Song Yin opened her mouth and bit the person’s finger. Malice grew in her heart. If she just exerted a little force and bit the finger off, this person’s false façade would surely crumble, which might be more interesting than the current situation.

She indeed did so, but with restraint.

With the taste of someone else’s blood in her mouth, she stared intensely at the cultivation vessel.

Song Yin anticipated the sight of fear in the person’s eyes, but why?

Why was the expression still one of such heartache?

The pain on Shen Yirong’s finger was manageable. She still didn’t understand what was happening to Song Yin, but she was certain the other person was in great distress.

The System clearly said Song Yin’s future would be smooth sailing. What a despicable liar.

Even if Song Yin’s temperament had drastically changed, and only hatred remained for her former Master, she still felt a pang of sympathy for Song Yin’s suffering.

She was Shen Yirong before, and now she was Shen Yi. Perhaps Shen Yi could be a little more willful.

The pain on her finger lessened. Song Yin released her mouth, staring at her face with a hint of confusion.

Shen Yirong asked gently, “Venerable One, are you feeling better?”

“You know my secret.”

Shen Yirong offered a wry smile, “Yes.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

Shen Yirong’s smile was even more strained, but she didn’t feel any killing intent.

She smiled casually, “Then I will grant your wish.”

Song Yin looked at that face. She couldn’t understand it.

But just by being near her, her inner demon silently retreated.

Regaining her composure, she pondered many things, “Give me a reason to trust you.”

After a moment of silence, Shen Yirong suddenly did something she had wanted to do but couldn’t in her previous life: she gently hugged Song Yin, resting her chin on the other’s shoulder.

“Perhaps, I deeply love you.”

The embrace was light, but she was immediately pushed away.

However, this time there was no scolding or anger, nor did she feel any joy from the other person.

Song Yin seemed exhausted. She waved her hand, telling her to leave.

Shen Yirong obeyed and walked towards the door. When she pulled the door open, sunlight dispelled the gloom on her body, but after taking a step, she suddenly looked back.

The person on the high seat sat in the shadows with her eyes closed. The sun seemed to neglect her. She looked very lonely.

Shen Yirong didn’t quite understand. With so many people around her, why did this person still feel lonely?

As she wondered, Song Yin opened her eyes and flicked something with her hand.

Shen Yirong thought her gaze had displeased her, so she closed her eyes and raised her sleeve to cover her face, only to hear Song Yin sneer.

“Is this the love you speak of?”

Shen Yirong was startled. She opened her eyes and saw a jade bottle suspended in front of her.

Looking at the bottle, it appeared to contain a Heaven-grade elixir.

The Great Peace Sect had these in her previous life, but she only received one pill a month during her severe illness.

She just throws it away like that?

“Heal the wound on your hand. Don’t think about trading it for spirit stones.”

The light in Shen Yirong’s eyes immediately extinguished.

Mind reading?

Shen Yirong tentatively cursed internally: Wicked disciple?

Song Yin didn’t react.

Shen Yirong relaxed. As she turned to leave, Song Yin’s voice reached her again, “Come here tomorrow. I will personally cleanse your marrow and spiritual conduit.”

Sweat dripped from Shen Yirong’s head.

I didn’t mention this, did I?

And didn’t the Demonic Palace lack the necessary materials?

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