The Aloof Master Relies on This Cat's Kisses to Survive - Chapter 19

East Street Ravings

“…I’m not lying to you,” Ji Wu sighed.

The moonlight flowed like water. On the rooftops, the play of light and shadow was colder than that of the street lamps, yet as it spilled across Ji Wu’s face, there remained an indescribable tenderness. It was a subtle, shimmering brilliance, like a thin mist, making the night wind feel less biting.

Ming Xi’s heart warmed in response. “Then… can I have a kiss?”

She truly knew no restraint.

“Do not be wanton. You lack decorum; you lack a sense of gravity,” Ji Wu lowered her voice. Her long fingers, still entwined in the fur on Ming Xi’s back, flushed a faint crimson.

“Alright, I know gravity. Then just a light one—just an inch of progress, definitely not heavy,” Ming Xi had her own interpretation.

“You…” Ji Wu turned her face away, refusing to look at her. “Where exactly is Zhubai?”

“Hmm, looks like she intends to wait until Ji Fang’s soul departs and her life is forfeit before she makes her appearance,” Ming Xi explained lazily. “Wuwu, do you want Zhubai alive or dead?”

“Alive, naturally,” Ji Wu answered patiently.

“Fine, then I’ll go snatch her up in my teeth.” Ming Xi stretched her front paws, scratching at the roof tiles beneath her, and let out a howl.

Ji Wu suddenly felt the ground give way beneath her feet. Immediately after, the fluffy weight in her hands vanished with a shoo. Ming Xi shifted on the spot, returning to the size of an ordinary cat, and in the blink of an eye, she had leaped onto Ji Wu’s shoulder.

She lowered her head to sniff Ji Wu’s hair, then, before Ji Wu could scold her, she tumbled downward, falling directly into Ji Wu’s arms. “Aiy-yah, I can’t hold on anymore. My four legs are shaky; I need Master to hold me to get better.”

Ji Wu stared in stunned silence.

“If you keep this up, I will strike you away first to liberate myself,” Ji Wu finally couldn’t help but rebuke her. “Do not trifle with human lives for no reason. This is not a place for play!”

“Everywhere is a place for my play.” Ming Xi was habitually unruly; even her Master couldn’t make her entirely obedient.

However, she could still take in about thirty percent of Ji Wu’s reprimand. Ming Xi felt she was already a very well-behaved kitty. “Fine, Ming Xi is going.”

As soon as she spoke, the Dream Beast pressed her front paw against Ji Wu’s softest point, treading upon that bountiful “auspicious snow,” and arched her feline neck to lick the back of Ji Wu’s ear.

Neither light nor heavy—just an inch of lingering grace.

“Hee!” Having finished her deed, Ming Xi zipped away and leaped out of East Street.

Ji Wu was left agitated by this rebellious beast, feeling as though she had been depleted not just physically, but of the centuries of orthodox cultivation in her true form.

Shameful. Truly shameful.

But before Ji Wu could reflect further, the vendors of East Street shifted into a different kind of commotion. Some unforeseen change had occurred, and below, they had begun to argue with Dongfang Qianyao.

Just as Ji Wu was about to jump down, a sword’s whistle sliced past her ear.

“Who?” Ji Wu looked toward the source of the sound.

Though the scenery of East Street was but a phantom dream, the moonlight was very real—likely because Ji Fang gazed at it night after night, leaving a deep impression. Beneath the vast night sky, a streak of plain white lunged forward.

With a flick of her thumb, Ji Wu raised her sword and met the strike. After parrying the vicious killing intent, she flicked her wrist, the tip of her blade lunging straight for her opponent’s throat.

The opponent, however, possessed extraordinary agility, narrowly dodging the strike and spinning around for another assault.

“Zhubai,” Ji Wu called out coldly.

The moonlight spilled down, outlining the slender figure of the newcomer. It was indeed Zhubai, the disciple of the Xuanling Sect who had left the mountain gates with Ji Wu earlier.

She wore the same plain white robes as Ji Wu, her black hair pinned up meticulously—though one strand had fallen loose, fluttering against her cheek in the wind. It could not, however, hide the knots of resentment in her eyes.

“Oh, Senior Sister Ji Wu,” Zhubai’s voice was equally cold. “Dongfang Ji Wu.”

The sword in Zhubai’s hand was nearly pitch black, looking like spilled ink against her white robes, without a single glint of reflection.

Ji Wu shook her head. That was baleful energy entwined within the sword’s marrow. This Nightmare Demon had already consumed Zhubai entirely; now it intended to erode Ji Fang and, furthermore, planned to trap Ji Wu here as well.

The Grandmaster’s eyes were like cold pools, remaining unmoved even after seeing through the newcomer’s killing intent. However, her body was ultimately depleted; Ji Wu wasn’t sure if she could slay this Nightmare Demon using only swordsmanship.

Where did Ming Xi go?

That Dream Beast truly couldn’t be trusted even halfway. She said she’d handle it, but after transforming and frolicking around for a bit, she was nowhere to be found at the critical moment!

“Sister Ji Wu!” On the street below, Dongfang Qianyao noticed the commotion on the roof.

But she was stretched thin. After Ming Xi had stirred up the emotions of the street vendors and passersby, they had long since abandoned the stereotypical “East Street old scenery” behavior of the Dream Master. They had lost control.

The spirits of the dead drew closer and closer. Dongfang Qianyao protected the soul-separated Ji Fang, using spiritual arts as a slight warning and ice pillars to surround and guard the hairpin stall.

“Sister Ji Wu, where is Little Junior Sister? I… can I attack these spirits?”

Dongfang Qianyao hadn’t been in the sect long and had never traveled down the mountain for experience; naturally, she had never killed a demon or ghost before.

Ji Wu frowned. “Protect yourself. I am coming down immediately.”

She didn’t want to care where Ming Xi was anymore; it was better to slay the Nightmare Demon first and then dispel the raving ghosts.

“Dongfang Ji Wu!” Zhubai was dissatisfied by Ji Wu’s distraction, her eyes widening with a golden glint. “I didn’t expect to have a day where I face my role model head-on.”

Ji Wu had no desire to say anything more to this monster. With a stern brow and cold eyes, she moved.

She hadn’t guessed wrong; this Nightmare Demon was the nightmare incarnation formed from the resentment of hundreds and thousands within the Xuanling Sect toward Ji Wu. After all, the world was full of spiritual energy, yet for many years, only one “Ji Wu” had ascended. Among practitioners, who didn’t look up to Ji Wu? And who hadn’t been tripped up by those two words, “Ji Wu”?

Yet, to hate her so much that they couldn’t wait even a day after her arrival to set a trap for her murder was somewhat far-fetched. If no one was manipulating things from behind the scenes, Ji Wu would find it hard to believe.

But for now, slaying this thing was more important. Ji Wu knew this well.

Her long sword drew a sharp flourish. Ji Wu had no intention of responding to Zhubai, thrusting her blade straight for the other’s throat.

“Ji Wu, Ji Wu, you are the role model for every disciple of the Xuanling Sect. But you are the one basking in the light, while we are the ones covered in dust!”

Zhubai’s face seemed to tear slightly, as if multiple overlapping shadows were trying to break out, repeating over and over. She dodged Ji Wu’s strike and countered by slashing toward Ji Wu’s elbow. Her movements were ruthless and sharp; it was clear she had practiced the Way of the Sword with great diligence.

Ji Wu had just had contact with Ming Xi, so she had a bit of spiritual power lingering in her. For now, her movements were adequate. She showed no mercy; when one strike missed, she immediately followed with another.

Two white figures blurred across the eaves. The clanging of their weapons was so loud it made one’s ears ache and eyes dizzy. Ji Wu’s moves were all aggressive; she knew she had no advantage in a dream and had to take down this Nightmare Demon quickly.

However, the speed at which her spiritual power was dissipating exceeded her estimates.

A “compatibility” like the one she had with Ming Xi was simply not enough. Ji Wu understood this. She had already anticipated the catastrophic decline of her cultivation. This was a raving dream. Since Zhubai had possessed Ji Fang and become the Dream Master, she naturally held the geographical advantage. These resentments originated from the talented women of the Xuanling Sect; though blocking Ji Wu’s killing moves was difficult, they didn’t fall short of their years of hard work.

“Dongfang Ji Wu, is that all you are?” Zhubai noticed the weakening of Ji Wu’s offensive and threw out another provocation.

The sword, shrouded in resentment, swung horizontally, blocking Ji Wu’s final counter-attack that contained spiritual arts. Zhubai only felt a metallic tang in her mouth—internal shock, her spiritual palace was damaged.

The tiles beneath her feet shattered. A massive pressure slammed into Zhubai, leaving her unable to react. The sharp pain came unexpectedly. She had clearly seen Ji Wu’s opening; why did Ji Wu manage to turn it around and stab her vitals?

“No, impossible.” Zhubai’s expression crumbled instantly. Her balance failed; she stumbled back several steps, nearly tripped by the broken tiles.

“Who is behind you?” Ji Wu’s expression remained cold and stern. She felt not a shred of joy from her victory, though her voice betrayed a hint of unavoidable exhaustion.

“Behind me?” Zhubai shook her head with a laugh. “Senior Dongfang should have already judged what kind of monster I am. So why do you even need to ask who is behind me?”

“I merely wanted you to die with understanding,” Ji Wu sighed.

For Zhubai to demonize at this time and jump out to plot against Ji Wu wasn’t simply because this “genius senior” had suddenly arrived at the Xuanling Sect. A person who had practiced so devoutly that her swordsmanship could trade several blows with Ji Wu wouldn’t have such a flighty temperament.

“Death is death. What is there to understand or not? Ask them—did they die with understanding?” Zhubai couldn’t stop laughing, which happened to match the original ravings of this dream.

To be joyful.

Truly absurd. Ji Wu frowned; tonight’s situation was truly like a comedy.

Zhubai raised her long sword and plunged it into the roof tiles, propping herself up. She gathered all the resentment in her body for one final, desperate surge—

“With our flesh and blood as a sacrifice, we offer it to the Spiritual Mountain—”

The black-colored baleful resentment, accompanied by eerie laughter, rushed toward Ji Wu. She tapped her toes, spinning as she flipped off the eaves of East Street and landed beside Dongfang Qianyao.

Simultaneously, with a flick of her sword qi, Ji Wu’s remaining pressure swept away the nearest street vendors. But the out-of-control crowd soon surged again.

The black baleful energy sent by Zhubai chased them down. The faces of the dozens of spirits on East Street turned a greenish-black. Mist billowed behind them, and then wails erupted—voices far louder than anything the people of East Street could produce.

“They’re crazy, they’re crazy! They’ve gone mad!” Dongfang Qianyao shivered as she threw out a frost-colored ice ring, attempting to break through the thickening baleful energy. “Why is this happening? This isn’t right, Sister Ji Wu.”

She recalled the knowledge she had learned from the Spirit Mountain Bestiary, telling herself to stay calm. “It’s a Nightmare Demon, right? Nightmare Demons are formed from resentment. These black mists must come from the hundreds of seniors in the Xuanling Sect who failed to ascend?”

Then what should they do? Any high-level member of the Xuanling Sect was enough to make Dongfang Qianyao suffer. A whole crowd of demonized genius seniors?

“I’m going to die here.” After Dongfang Qianyao calmed down, she realized her conclusion was not at all suited for staying calm.

Instinctively, she looked at Ji Wu again, even though she knew Ji Wu was severely injured internally and likely found it even harder to endure than she did.

“It was my oversight,” Ji Wu said. She appeared only slightly fatigued, her expression as indifferent as ever.

“What? What!” Dongfang Qianyao had long since lost her bearings.

“Raving ghosts, Nightmare Demons… they were all just disguises to lure me into this trap.” Ji Wu shook her head. “The ones trying to besiege and kill me here tonight are not the spirits of East Street, nor the resentful dreams of the Xuanling Sect. They are…”

The wronged souls of the Imperial City from eight years ago.