The Aloof Master Relies on This Cat's Kisses to Survive - Chapter 11

Eastern Street Dream-Talk

What did a mere temple count for in the presence of the Lord of Spirit Mountain? This malevolent entity had an eccentric temperament; she wasn’t one to give face to anyone, her strikes were never refined, and in her eyes, there was no distinction between the innocent and the guilty.

…Right?

Had Ji Wu been prejudiced in the past?

The Grandmaster glanced at Ming Xi.

The Dream Beast wasn’t listening to Dongfang Qianyao at all. She didn’t care about the ownership or origin of this dream, nor was she worried about how the Dream Master would find liberation. She was currently occupied with flicking the inlaid pearls on Ji Wu’s sword-guard, playing with great gusto.

Human conversations are too long; not listening.

Wuwu’s pearls are shiny and bright; fun.

“She survived!” Meanwhile, the woman selling flatbreads, who had been asked a few more questions, suddenly flared up in anger. Simultaneously, the surrounding street vendors turned their faces over. Everyone’s expression was as gloomy as hers.

“Why her!” “Why is she the only one still alive?”

“Ah? Is it Anger?” Dongfang Qianyao let out a small gasp. It wasn’t Sorrow or Loathing, but Anger?

She truly couldn’t understand. “Sister Ji Wu, when that Yi-Ghost was slain just now, the sound it emitted was clearly a ‘Sorrow-Moan,’ right? How can it dissipate and then condense back into an ‘Anger-Moan’?”

Yi-Ghosts are often born in places where souls have departed; this is one of the reasons why rituals are performed to release the deceased. In the past, when such spirits appeared, one could simply invite a cultivator to slay them or have a temple send them off.

She had never heard of one leaving and then returning with a different skin.

Could it be that the spirits of Spirit Mountain had truly become more troublesome because of the revival?

Unbeknownst to her, the “Source of All Evil” who was backing these spirits, Ming Xi, blinked her eyes, looking pure and innocent.

“Oh, it changed? Swapped? Is there a choice?” She suddenly found a bit of amusement.

Leaning against Ji Wu’s side following the conversation, Ming Xi grabbed her master’s arm and hooked onto it. “Who chooses? Me? Is it me?”

“Of course the Dream Master chooses,” Ji Wu looked at Ming Xi and shook her head slightly, warning her not to be too playful.

Yet, she did not push the rebellious beast away.

It was strange; in a dream where one should theoretically have no physical sensation, Ji Wu could feel Ming Xi’s body temperature transferring over, accompanied by a faint, surging heat.

It was the circulation of spiritual power. Ji Wu actually needed this right now; this dream was not simple, and Dongfang Qianyao alone would likely struggle to find liberation from it.

Thus, she would temporarily allow this rebellious beast to stay close.

“Eeee~” Ming Xi shook her head. “Her? She looks a bit dim-witted.”

“She is very clever,” Ji Wu corrected. “She merely lacks experience.”

Dongfang Qianyao’s talent exceeded her cultivation level; in the waking world, she was a genius with a “Saint Body,” but once inside a dream, she possessed a very unstable “Soul-Detached Essence.”

When an Yi-Ghost possesses someone, its goal is to provoke the Dream Master into empathizing with it. Once the “correct” emotion is triggered, it becomes a feast for the ghost.

Conversely, only by refusing to be stirred by the ghost and extinguishing its emotions can one escape unscathed.

Dongfang Qianyao had never entered a “Dream-Talk Realm” before, but she knew her spiritual power was the highest among the three. She absolutely could not lose her footing. “Junior Sister, I can do this!”

“Ang, you can do it,” Ming Xi encouraged perfunctorily.

Her eyes were burning bright: You are my personal “Repair Cat,” you’d better live a long time.

However, the emotions within the dream surged up, shouting loudly: “You cannot!”

“Why!” “I am unwilling!”

The vendors on the street had already gathered around. “Why did only she survive?”

“She isn’t even a local of Yunming Town! Could it be that the Land Granny protects her more?”

“That Nian-Demon clearly ate everyone and destroyed the whole street, but why did we die without intact corpses while Fang-mei survived completely whole?”

Dongfang Qianyao, who had just made a grand declaration, turned pale with fright.

She tried hard to recall what she had learned from the Demon Chronicles. “Anger… Anger-Moans are… are Fire-element emotions. Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Sister Ji Wu, my Water-element techniques are quite good; I can handle this.”

“You can’t handle it,” Ming Xi threw cold water on her from the side. “Have you forgotten? Spiritual arts can’t hit these Yi-Ghosts.”

“I haven’t forgotten! These are emotions, not the Yi-Ghost itself. What do you know? I didn’t learn it wrong!” Dongfang Qianyao was provoked by that simple bit of questioning.

With a Soul-Detached Essence, it was only natural for her to be a bit unstable.

Ming Xi wanted to bicker more, but Ji Wu spoke up in time. “Correct, they are emotions and can be handled with spiritual arts, but you cannot strike them now. We are trying to ‘Withdraw from the Dream,’ not ‘Break the Dream’.”

An intruder can use spiritual arts to break a dream, but it is best if the Dream Master does not. That is a method of “killing a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of one’s own.”

Mindful of Ming Xi’s temperament, Ji Wu immediately added a word of comfort: “Isn’t this fun? You take a guess too, see if you’re right.”

Hmm? Ming Xi’s eyes darted around. “Oh, oh, Joy, Anger, Sorrow, Loathing, right? Then—”

Dongfang Qianyao was also pondering hard. The two spoke in unison, but their answers were different.

Dongfang Qianyao: “Anger!”

Ming Xi: “Joy!”

“How could it be Joy? Joy is the most impossible!” Dongfang Qianyao frowned. “They are all dead; where would their joy come from?”

“Wuhu, Sister, don’t be angry,” Ming Xi said with a cheeky grin. “Since Sister thinks it’s Anger, then you definitely shouldn’t get angry, or you’ll be eaten up completely.”

“You’re right,” Dongfang Qianyao nodded, being quite receptive to advice.

Ming Xi continued, “If you are absolutely certain that Joy is the most impossible, then why don’t you just give a smile and go shopping happily? What could these Yi-Ghost emotions possibly do to you then?”

Dongfang Qianyao’s heart drummed: It makes sense, but coming from the mouth of this Junior Sister, it sounds entirely like twisted logic.

Ming Xi’s expression was so dismissive it practically carried a written disclaimer: I’m lying to you, hurry up and be fooled.

Dongfang Qianyao chose caution. “Junior Sister, don’t mess with me. We should calm our hearts, listen to what kind of personalities these people usually had, and then decide.”

She glanced back at the flatbread stall.

Having died suddenly at the hands of a Nian-Demon while doing business, whether they would be very angry or very sorrowful depended on the usual temperament of these vendors and customers.

In any case, Dongfang Qianyao had already ruled out Joy and Loathing. “If it’s not Anger, then it’s Sorrow. Sister Ji Wu, what do you think?”

“Mhm. You try it your way; I am here,” Ji Wu pulled Ming Xi down to sit at a small stall.

What Dongfang Qianyao lacked was experience, and Ming Xi loved watching chaos—especially a tangled mess of chaos—so she was happy to tag along. “Then I want to eat a flatbread.”

“This is a dream, you won’t get full, Junior Sister,” Dongfang Qianyao tried to lecture her again.

Ming Xi propped up her cheek and smiled at her. “Sister, because this is a dream, I can be full no matter what I eat.”

“Talking nonsense again,” Dongfang Qianyao assumed she was just being contrary and didn’t take it to heart. She moved her stool slightly to the left to listen to what the people behind her were discussing.

People in a dream act with a rigid logic, maintained primarily by the Dream Master’s impressions.

Dongfang Qianyao knew they were the merchants and passersby of the East Street, so even if they had been angry a moment ago, the moment she sat down, they returned to maintaining the old scenery of the East Street.

The flatbread stall was just a common corner of that scene.

“Is Fang-mei’s surname Ji?” a diner wearing a floral headscarf asked.

The person beside her replied, “Anyway, she’s called Ji Fang. Even if her surname isn’t Ji, that’s how the name is pronounced.”

“I know this. Her surname is indeed Ji. Her original name was Ji Wu, patterned after that Grandmaster,” someone else joined the conversation.

Ji Wu.

Dongfang Qianyao glanced at her “Sister Ji Wu.”

The atmosphere was quite subtle, because except for Ji Wu herself, no one knew she was the actual Ji Wu.

Both Ming Xi and Dongfang Qianyao thought she was just like this Ji Fang—a descendant named Ji Wu in hopes of her being successful.

“A pity, she wasn’t chosen,” the new speaker shook their head, looking towards the direction of the Xuanling Sect. “She’s been here for several years, came all by herself, hoping to pass the preliminary trial. Even being an outer disciple would have been fine, but… sigh, a poor child indeed.”

“How is she a poor child? So many people fail the selection every year and slink away in shame. She, on the other hand, stayed and started a business. An outsider making a killing here on our East Street—just look at how she’s decorated that stall.”

“Oh, so people aren’t allowed to earn a living? Only locals can do business on East Street? Does East Street business have to be grubby? People aren’t allowed to dress up?”

A diner at another table turned their head to interject. “Fang-mei’s hairpin is so beautiful; I like it very much. She has some skill too, knows a bit of tool-crafting. Her things are just more spiritual than the usual. I see people from the Xuanling Sect buying from her too, so what?”

“So she’s capable and named Ji Wu, but she still wasn’t chosen, hahahahaha.”

“Hush, keep it down. You dare mention the name Ji Wu repeatedly at the foot of Spirit Mountain? Aren’t you afraid the Lord will claim your life?”

“The Lord?” The loudest diner stopped chewing their flatbread. “Don’t even say it… I reckon that one… isn’t actually dead!”

“Isn’t actually—” The person replying covered their mouth, looked around, and lowered their voice even further. “Not dead? How do you dare talk about that ancestor right at her doorstep?”

Exactly! Mentioning that big meanie who hurt my Master right in front of this Meow-Lord?

Ming Xi almost jumped up, but her palm was pressed down by Ji Wu a step ahead.