Reborn as a Human Cauldron, But I'm the Top - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Sudden Change

The fine golden threads were like the tears of a divine statue; they sank into the ground and vanished.

After Song Yin sheathed her sword, her eyes were filled with nothing but disdain.

Little Song Yin also jumped down. She kicked the head of the divine statue, but there was no reaction. It seemed the thing that escaped just now was the true body.

She had never seen such a thing—capable of movement but possessing no aura. Thus, she asked again, “What was that thing?”

As if recalling unpleasant memories, Song Yin’s brow furrowed tighter and tighter. “When I first arrived in Yangyue, this thing was attached to a divine statue. In the middle of the night, it would stand by the window and watch me.”

Now, it had a different person to watch.

Song Yin couldn’t help but grit her teeth. Although she couldn’t be entirely sure that Shen Yi was her Master, was it true that anyone with that face would attract all sorts of things? Even things without human form were drawn to her.

As she thought, the vines at her neck began to crawl upward again. Song Yin closed her eyes to suppress them.

Although the inner demon was suppressed quickly, Little Song Yin still saw it. She looked at Song Yin’s neck in surprise. “Your inner demon is very severe.”

Song Yin pulled her collar up slightly. “You will become like me in the future. Are you afraid?”

Little Song Yin smiled. “You said yourself I am just a phantom. How could I become you? Instead, you should be the one to be careful.”

Saying that, she still felt a bit dejected. “How much longer will you stay here?”

Song Yin thought for a moment. “Seven days, perhaps.”

“Which means I only have seven days of life left.”

“Mm.”

Little Song Yin suddenly sighed, then smiled. “Regarding the revenge you mentioned, I refuse. I have things I want to do myself.”

“Heh, I never intended for you to help.”

Little Song Yin chuckled. “That’s not necessarily true.”

She stared at the sleeping Shen Yirong by the window for a long time before finally leaving the place.

A spatial rift opened at Song Yin’s feet. Song Yin kicked it casually, and the rift closed again.

However, this time, the place where the rifts appeared most was not the General’s Mansion, but above the Imperial Palace.

Demons and ghosts fell from the sky like rain, and a dense demonic aura slowly began to diffuse.

Shen Yirong sniffed the air and then slowly opened her eyes.

She saw Song Yin outside the window and pushed the door open to walk out. Following the direction Song Yin was looking, she looked up and gasped.

If this continued, there would soon be more demons than humans in the Imperial City.

Shen Yirong immediately wanted to help, but her wrist was grabbed, and before she could ask anything, she was picked up by the other.

Shen Yirong instinctively wrapped her arms around Song Yin’s neck, then hurriedly let go in a panic. For a moment, she didn’t dare move, feeling as though whatever she did was wrong.

However, she soon noticed something was amiss. Weren’t those Senior Sister Mei and You Yuning?

Mei Xin and You Yuning stood together, their four eyes landing squarely on Shen Yirong simultaneously.

Shen Yirong, who hadn’t felt awkward at first, suddenly felt a wave of social death. If it were anyone else, it would be fine, but one of those two was her respected Senior Sister.

Shen Yirong silently covered her face.

Yet Mei Xin insisted on calling out to her, “Junior Sister.”

Shen Yirong covered her face. “No, no, no, Senior Mei, you have the wrong person.”

Unable to take it anymore, Shen Yirong pleaded softly, “Your Honor, put me down.”

Song Yin’s expression turned cold, and Shen Yirong immediately grew timid. She hurriedly diverted her attention to the situation at the Imperial Palace.

Although there were many demons this time, their cultivation levels were generally mediocre.

Shen Yirong saw Ling Yingzhi rushing toward the palace below. Her daytime clothes were stained with blood. She knitted her brows, nocking an arrow and shooting down demons in her path.

The other’s archery was indeed brilliant. Shen Yirong recalled her wish to join the Demon Palace and couldn’t help but ask Song Yin, “Your Honor, she…”

“She died.”

The overly blunt answer stunned Shen Yirong. “Died?”

Song Yin wouldn’t tease her, so it meant Ling Yingzhi really died later.

Just then, a rat demon pounced and bit Ling Yingzhi’s shoulder. Ling Yingzhi fell from her horse in pain, and the surrounding demons swarmed over.

Shen Yirong was startled. She cast a spell to blow the demons away, but someone was a step faster than her.

The demon closest to Ling Yingzhi was pinned to the wall by a sudden flying spear, dying after a few struggles.

Rapid hoofbeats sounded. Ling Minzhi rode a two-headed horse, kicking away the pouncing demons. She whistled, and many black hawks suddenly flew down from the night sky. The hawks dived, snatching away the small demons around Ling Yingzhi.

Ling Minzhi retrieved her spear and charged into the demonic crowd. Shen Yirong’s magic froze in her hand. She hadn’t seen Ling Minzhi fight before, but now she saw that this person was courageous to an extreme.

She had single-handedly cleared a space in the middle of the dense demon swarm. Shen Yirong even saw her crush a tiger demon’s head with a single punch.

Is this a human?

Shen Yirong’s eyes lit up. “This person is very suitable for Body Cultivation.”

Song Yin looked at Ling Minzhi thoughtfully. “Indeed. However…”

Shen Yirong looked up. “However what?”

Song Yin’s voice became low. “However, she died too.”

Shen Yirong: “…”

Shen Yirong wanted to complain, but Song Yin’s expression seemed off. She suddenly remembered that in the past, after Song Yin returned from her training in the Yangyue Kingdom, she became much more silent than before.

In just a short while, half of the demons on the street before the palace had been killed by Ling Minzhi.

The smell of blood grew heavy again. Shen Yirong wanted to cover her nose, but her hand stopped just as she reached out. Beneath the smell of blood, she detected a familiar scent—one she had smelled when she first entered Yangyue, when the entire kingdom’s people had fallen into a deep slumber.

The scent of a curse… it seemed to be on Ling Minzhi.

A hand suddenly blocked her vision. Shen Yirong felt her eyes grow warm. When the hand was removed, the world in her eyes had completely changed.

There were no humans, demons, or ghosts—not even buildings. They were all just clusters of blurred “Qi.”

Ling Yingzhi’s Qi was golden-red, the ghosts’ was light black, and Ling Minzhi’s was a deeper blue-black.

Shen Yirong was startled and turned to look at her Senior Sister and the other. They still looked the same as before.

Shen Yirong was bewildered. “What did Your Honor do?”

Song Yin looked at Ling Minzhi below. “Remember when I said I would give you a ‘fortune’?”

Shen Yirong remembered, but she had thought the fortune was gone. Now, hearing Song Yin’s tone, it was still there?

Shen Yirong couldn’t hide her excitement. “I remember. Your Honor said it was a mirror. Could it be the one in the Monarch’s hand?”

Song Yin looked at the world and suddenly smiled. “No. It is this world. Do you know of the Mirror of Ten Thousand Phenomena?”

Shen Yirong’s pupils trembled slightly. Wasn’t the Mirror of Ten Thousand Phenomena the supreme treasure of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion?

Suddenly understanding something, Shen Yirong looked back at the clusters of differently colored Qi on the ground. So, when Song Yin said not to invest feelings, did she mean these people were all fake?

Was the past Song Yin fake too?

Shen Yirong closed her eyes. “Did Your Honor always know?”

Song Yin didn’t deny it. “I knew from the moment I stepped into the Yangyue Kingdom.”

Shen Yirong suddenly felt like a fool. A wave of powerlessness rose within her. Song Yin was so powerful; how could she ever escape? Was she to stay by her side in trepidation, acting for a lifetime? She was only at the early stage of Foundation Establishment, barely stepping onto the path of cultivation, but Song Yin was already at the end of the road.

Shen Yirong curled her lips to hide her inner emotions. “Your Honor is so impressive.”

Senior Sister Mei Xin also didn’t move, looking completely different from her proactive self yesterday. So, Senior Sister must have realized it too.

Mei Xin felt Shen Yirong looking at her. She rummaged through her ring and finally pulled out a sugar-wrapped candy. She reached out to Shen Yirong. “Junior Sister, have some candy.”

Shen Yirong was stunned. She almost reached out to take it. With a bitter smile, she said helplessly, “Senior Mei, I am not the Sword Sovereign. I am Shen Yi.”

“Shen Yi, have some candy.”

Senior Sister’s answers were always unexpected, but Shen Yirong didn’t dare take it. She felt Song Yin was about to “mutate.”

Fortunately, a golden light rose from the base of the palace. Countless golden ribbons stretched toward the sky, weaving through the rifts like threads sewing them shut.

Shen Yirong looked over but could only see a pure white cluster of Qi holding a bronze mirror high. Golden lines seeped from the bottom of the mirror, drilling into that pure cluster of Qi.

As Shen Yirong watched, the pattern formed by the golden threads felt strangely like the neural networks she had seen in the modern world.

Shen Yirong frowned. “Is that the Monarch?”

Song Yin looked at the Monarch standing on the palace ruins, whose eyes had turned golden. She replied, “Yes. But after today, he will be no more.”

The demons below had all been eliminated. Everything in Shen Yirong’s eyes still hadn’t changed back. In the blurred world, only Song Yin and the others still had human shapes.

Shen Yirong rubbed her eyes. When she opened them again, she noticed the pure white cluster of Qi was looking at her. It was strange; though she couldn’t see the other’s features, she could feel the gaze with certainty.

Suddenly, her head throbbed. There was a crackling static in her ears, like the sound from a TV with poor signal. She seemed to hear someone calling her name, but the sound was too noisy for her to hear clearly.

After a short while, the sound disappeared. Opening her eyes, Song Yin was looking at her.

Song Yin asked, “What’s wrong?”

Shen Yirong couldn’t explain it. She touched her ear and said uncertainly, “I think someone called me? Maybe I’ve been too tired lately.”

Shen Yirong shook her head. “What does Your Honor plan to do?”

She had seen the Mirror of Ten Thousand Phenomena before. It was a crystal-like mirror. In her past life, the Sect Master of the Medical Immortal Valley, who treated her illness, was close friends with the Master of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion. The Sect Master had borrowed the mirror to intercept the time of her illness.

She heard the Sect Master had formulated many medicines for the “her” in the mirror world, but none could cure her body. In fact, she died even faster after drinking the new medicines. After much tossing and turning, the conclusion reached was to stick to the original medicine. All of these were decided by the Sect Master without her consent; Shen Yirong had only heard Senior Sister Mei mention it once later.

She hadn’t expected to encounter this mirror again in this life. However, Shen Yirong still preferred swords. If possible, she wanted Song Yin to give her the Suyǔ Sword, but that was easy to expose. If the sword spirit got excited and started glowing, Shen Yirong couldn’t imagine her fate.

Shen Yirong trusted Song Yin immensely; as long as she took action, nothing was impossible. Unless, of course, her inner demon relapsed right now.

Seeing Song Yin hadn’t answered for a long time, Shen Yirong felt it was strange. She looked up and found the other’s face pale, looking as if she were barely holding on. Not only that, something red was crawling up from under her collar.

Shen Yirong saw clearly what it was in one glance.

No way!

But clearly, it was—Song Yin’s inner demon had relapsed. This person just said she would get her a “fortune,” and now she had collapsed? Shen Yirong absolutely hated her jinx of a mouth.

Fortunately, Song Yin was still conscious. She took Shen Yirong back to the room, set up several restrictions, and only then relaxed. Shen Yirong saw her clenched palms, her knuckles turning white.

“Your Honor?”

Song Yin’s face was covered in sweat, and the crimson vines slowly crawled onto her cheeks. The floral scent in the room was intense, muddling one’s mind. Shen Yirong bit her tongue and recited the Heart-Clearing Incantation to steady herself.

Song Yin slumped over the table, seemingly having passed out.

Shen Yirong didn’t know what to do in this situation. The books said an inner demon must be overcome by oneself; otherwise, it would take over the body. She leaned in and lightly patted the back of Song Yin’s hand. “Your Honor.”

There was no response.

Shen Yirong felt a wave of panic. Her first thought was Mei Xin, but she stopped just as she was about to open the door. The current Senior Sister Mei would kill Song Yin.

Shen Yirong withdrew her hand from the door. She sat back beside Song Yin, placing her hand on the other’s wrist. As soon as her spiritual power entered, it was torn into powder. Shen Yirong tried again persistently, but the result was the same.

No way, no way… You’re the female lead, right? You can’t go out like this, can you?

Shen Yirong rummaged through her spatial bag. Unfortunately, her time as a “favored concubine” hadn’t been long, and Song Yin was always stingy with her spiritual stones. Thus, she could only pull out a bunch of low-grade pills and powders. The only decent thing was that bottle of Heaven-grade pills.

Those pills were for treating external injuries. Shen Yirong decided to try anything in desperation and wanted to feed one to Song Yin, but the other’s jaw was clamped shut.

Shen Yirong was anxious but kept her tone gentle. “Your Honor, open your mouth.”

It was useless. Shen Yirong tried to pry it open but was nearly swatted away by an unconscious palm from Song Yin. Looking at the poor table corner that had turned to powder, Shen Yirong broke into a cold sweat.

Could it be that she really had to chew the medicine and feed it over, like in those TV dramas?

Shen Yirong looked at Song Yin’s face silently. When unconscious, Song Yin’s oppressive aura wasn’t as strong, and she looked a bit more like her old self, but Shen Yirong still hesitated. Thinking carefully, Song Yin’s relapse today was likely influenced by events four hundred years ago.

Shen Yirong gave a bitter smile. “You really do give me trouble. I’m only at Foundation Establishment.”

The vines on Song Yin’s face stopped crawling, but they didn’t recede. Shen Yirong looked at the pills on the table again. She reached for the bottle, but just as she was about to take it, she suddenly retracted her hand.

“No, no, this medicine isn’t for the right condition. Feeding it won’t help.”

Moreover, Song Yin’s alertness was so high while unconscious; if she got too close, it might be her head that shattered. Shen Yirong paced the room anxiously. Currently, the ones who could help were Senior Sister Mei and You Yuning. Senior Sister couldn’t break the Mirror of Ten Thousand Phenomena yet; out of interest, she might help, but that would expose Song Yin’s weakness. If so, even if Song Yin woke up, she might slap her to death first—not to mention You Yuning. Once the identity was revealed, that person could kill Song Yin with a single glare.

Shen Yirong sat on the bed in a dilemma. Looking at Song Yin’s face, she suddenly remembered something. There was also Little Song Yin.

Shen Yirong was overjoyed and hurriedly wanted to open the door, but her hand was shocked by electricity before she could touch it. With just that one shock, Shen Yirong couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. She clutched her hand, her face contorting in pain.

“A restriction.”

Her numb fingers gradually regained sensation. Shen Yirong took out a few spiritual stones to set up an array, attempting to break it. But as soon as the stones were out, the calm restriction suddenly attacked. A bolt of lightning turned her spiritual stones into powder. The power was far greater than when it shocked her finger.

Looking at the powder falling from her hand, Shen Yirong felt a sharp pang in her heart. She silently moved away from the door. Feeling the distance was safe, she took out another spiritual stone. But the moment the stone appeared, it was blasted into dross with a boom.

Shen Yirong nearly fainted and stumbled back onto the bed. When she reached into the spatial bag, the restriction’s lightning began to crackle. When she retracted her hand, the lightning hid away.

Shen Yirong suddenly understood something. She looked at Song Yin, wishing she could grab her collar and shake her. How did she feel that Song Yin didn’t set this restriction to keep others out, but to keep her in!

It had been said this was the Mirror of Ten Thousand Phenomena; where else could she run to?

In her anger, the motionless Song Yin suddenly began to cough. The coughing was light at first, then gradually intensified until Song Yin’s skin began to crack with every cough. Blood beads seeped from the cracked skin, gathering into small streams and sliding down Song Yin’s hands and cheeks. The sight was terrifying; Shen Yirong naturally couldn’t stay angry.

But the wounds on Song Yin’s body were still increasing. If this continued, she would bleed to death. Shen Yirong looked at the Heaven-grade pills again. Although they didn’t treat inner demons, they were effective for external injuries.

There was no time to care about “integrity” now. Shen Yirong took a cup and dissolved the pill in water. She tilted her head and drank the water, nearly vomiting it back up. Forcing down the urge to gag, she reached out to lift Song Yin’s face.

At this moment, Song Yin was quite submissive, but also very pathetic. The patterns on her face hadn’t receded, her eyes were tightly shut, and there were cracks on her skin. Though she was still beautiful, Shen Yirong felt only heartache. She looked at Song Yin’s lips and felt nervous, but finally closed her eyes and slowly leaned in.

Song Yin’s hand, hanging at her side, moved. The hand slowly rose and suddenly pressed against the back of Shen Yirong’s head. This was too forceful; Shen Yirong’s head tilted forward, and her lips met Song Yin’s.

Sensing something was wrong, she opened her eyes and saw Song Yin’s crimson eyes. Shen Yirong thought she had woken up. Fearing Song Yin would misunderstand her taking advantage, she wanted to pull away and explain.

But Song Yin pressed her head down, and she couldn’t break free. With her mouth full, she couldn’t speak. Shen Yirong wanted to push her away, but the other’s hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her into an embrace. Soon, there was no distance between them.

Shen Yirong seemed to smell the floral scent again, but she had no chance to recite the Heart-Clearing Incantation. Song Yin’s kiss was dominant yet clumsy. Shen Yirong was no better. She had intended to pass the medicine to Song Yin, but with this, she swallowed the indescribably foul-tasting medicine into her own stomach.

It was bitter, so bitter she wanted to vomit. But in her daze, she felt a hint of sweetness—that sweetness came from Song Yin. She unconsciously wanted more.

The hands at her waist and head stiffened, then relaxed their grip, moving to cling to her neck. But Shen Yirong could no longer care. She pushed the person to the ground, continuing what she couldn’t do while sober.

The vines on Song Yin’s face slowly receded, and the wounds on her body began to heal, though the crimson in her eyes remained. She suddenly pushed Shen Yirong away, her expression shifting.

“Presumptuous!”

This “presumptuous” was uttered weakly, without any deterrent power. Usually, Shen Yirong would have knelt to beg for forgiveness, but this time, she lay on the ground motionless.

Song Yin was slightly startled. She helped her up and checked her pulse, her face darkening upon doing so. She hurriedly checked herself and found that more than half of the spiritual power in her Dantian had been sucked away.

Looking at the innocently sleeping Shen Yirong on the ground, Song Yin felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She clenched her fist and punched the table beside her. The table became powder, but Song Yin’s heart still couldn’t calm down. If this were to get out, many people would laugh their heads off—she had actually had her spiritual power sucked away by someone.

Shen Yirong knew nothing of this. Most of the spiritual power she gained flooded into her sea of consciousness, making the small sword within even more condensed. Shen Yirong heard a clear sword hum. She felt very hot, then very cold, as if some venomous snake were staring at her, ready to bite her neck.

Shen Yirong waved her hand as if pushing it away, muttering, “Don’t bite me.”

Song Yin froze, and a deeper gloom covered her face. She reached out to touch her own lips, looking at the blood on her fingertips in silence. Then, she became even angrier. This bold person dared to be the one to complain first!

She must punish her severely! She would confiscate all her spiritual stones!

Shen Yirong suddenly shivered. In her daze, she felt as if a great disaster were imminent. She slowly regained her senses. When she opened her eyes, she felt refreshed.

Song Yin said gloomily, “Did you sleep well?”

Shen Yirong originally wanted to say “yes,” but seeing Song Yin’s face as black as the bottom of a pot, she swallowed it. “Mediocre.”

The events from just now left no trace in Shen Yirong’s memory. She keenly noticed that Song Yin’s lip was cut. To show her concern, she said flatteringly, “Your Honor is injured?”

But this seemed to have the opposite effect, as Song Yin’s face grew even darker. Shen Yirong swallowed; she instinctively felt something was wrong, but her head and body felt light as air, and she couldn’t remember anything.

Song Yin walked to her and looked down at her, her eyes seemingly filled with disdain. Shen Yirong felt the other was about to take out a whip the next second.

Song Yin: “Meditate. Consolidate your cultivation.”

“Ah?”

Only then did Shen Yirong realize her cultivation had increased. Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Heaven-grade injury medicine can increase cultivation too!” She was already at the peak of Foundation Establishment, almost at the Golden Core stage.

Shen Yirong stared at Song Yin with a pleading gaze, as if saying “I want more.”

Song Yin couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed Shen Yirong’s shoulder and repeated, “Meditate. Don’t make me say it a third time.”

Shen Yirong immediately grew obedient.

The consolidation of her cultivation went smoothly, and her realm was stable. If the cultivation had been boosted by pills, there should have been fluctuations. Shen Yirong didn’t quite understand, but with one more step, she could break through to the Golden Core stage. There was no spiritual power in the Mirror of Ten Thousand Phenomena, and she couldn’t undergo the baptism of heavenly lightning; she had to get out quickly. Once she reached the Golden Core stage, she could fly with a sword!

Shen Yirong was overly excited. “Your Honor, when are we leaving this place?”

“Originally, it was in seven days.”

Shen Yirong picked up on the nuance. “Originally? What about now?”

Shen Yirong heard Song Yin’s teeth grinding. She heard Song Yin sneer, “Now, because of a certain someone, more than half of my spiritual power has been sucked away. We can’t get out.”

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