The Aloof Master Relies on This Cat's Kisses to Survive - Chapter 20

East Street Delirium (End)

“Eight years ago, ah!” Dongfang Qianyao found it increasingly impossible to accept after hearing this. “Imperial City vengeful spirits?”

No wonder, then. No wonder these East Street neighbors had been discussing the siege of the Spirit Mountain Deity back then; so, they intended to use them to summon the vengeful spirits who perished in that massacre?

But what did this have to do with Sister Ji Wu? Sister Ji Wu had also nearly lost her life in that slaughter; she hadn’t recovered for eight years.

Logically speaking, shouldn’t those nightmare dreams, coalesced into a Nightmare Demon, empathize more with Sister Ji Wu? She was also one of those who failed to ascend after bitter cultivation.

Dongfang Qianyao could not understand it at all. Initially, she even felt those nightmare dreams were coming for her because she was the most anticipated “Talented One” of the Dongfang clan’s current generation.

“Yes, indeed!” A voice suddenly struck Dongfang Qianyao’s ear, followed by the distorted face of a woman. “I am too, I am as well!”

“Are what?” Dongfang Qianyao responded instinctively, so terrified she had long forgotten how to think.

“I was considered to have great cultivation talent since I was a child. My elders and clansmen placed high hopes on me, firmly believing that with this talent, I could surely succeed in ascending just like Ancestor Ji Wu.” The woman’s voice carried a sob, which turned into anger as she spoke. “The family poured everything into me; I cultivated day and night.”

The woman became more agitated as she spoke, her face tearing further apart, causing Dongfang Qianyao to retreat several steps.

“Qianyao, do not listen,” Ji Wu spoke up to warn her.

Since those nightmare dreams could not corrode Ji Wu, they wanted to strike Dongfang Qianyao first, leaving Ji Wu isolated and helpless in this siege.

Ming Xi was likely lured away from Ji Wu’s side by the Nightmare Demon for this very reason.

Truly worthy of being a high-ranking sprite from the Spirit Mountain Demon Registry; such a temperament could indeed remain hidden in the world for years without being detected.

The ink-like black mist rolled up into a dense, airtight giant net, surging and pouncing behind the spirits of East Street.

Sharp, piercing shrieked echoed throughout the Realm of Delirium. While those Imperial City vengeful spirits were still gathering in clusters, Ji Wu had not yet decided how to respond.

If it were only the deceased souls of East Street, she could slay them with a sword even without spiritual power. But the addition of the Nightmare Demon’s resentful dreams made it difficult for Ji Wu to parry, let alone the commoners of the entire slaughtered Imperial City.

The cage fires on the small stalls flickered as they were struck by gusts of yin wind; the entire East Street had long since lost its joyful atmosphere.

“The Chosen Daughter, Dongfang Ji Wu!” Another streak of resentful malice scurried in front of Ji Wu, transforming into the appearance of a dainty young girl. “Is your name Ji Wu too? What is your surname? Mine is Fang, oh! I am so close to the Ancestor, so close!”

Her voice carried resentment. “It’s only a difference of one character, isn’t it? My mother said I would surely attain the Dao and ascend in the future, bringing supreme glory to the family.”

“Step back.” Ji Wu was not soft-hearted like Dongfang Qianyao. Regardless of the image presented, she could raise her sword and strike directly. “Monster!”

“Ah—” The young girl’s malice clawed and bared its teeth, letting out a final cry of indignation. “Role model!”

“Role model…” Ji Ji-fang, standing behind them, repeated.

The flower-pin vendor’s identity as the Dream Master had long been usurped by Zhubai. She was currently in a state of soul-detachment, wandering through the Realm of Delirium she had built, guarding her stall and maintaining her pitiful, stereotypical self-image.

A former “genius” who earnestly crafted tools and worked hard to live.

“What role model! It was nothing more than good luck!” Two more clouds of black mist entwined around Ji-fang’s stall, condensing into two women, one tall and one short. “Ancestor Ji Wu was able to ascend only because her circumstances were good. Are we not as hardworking as her? Are we not as talented?”

“Don’t touch her!” Dongfang Qianyao lashed out with a wind technique, but it only dispersed a bit of the resentful shadow.

“Steady your mind, Qianyao,” Ji Wu reminded her. “Ming Xi is not far.”

It was impossible for them to kill so many vengeful spirits, but Ming Xi could.

Ji Wu was very calm. She knew that what she and Dongfang Qianyao needed to do was protect themselves as much as possible and wait for Ming Xi’s return.

The deafening roars grew more intense. The resentful nightmares offered by the Nightmare Demon would not wait; the Imperial City vengeful spirits summoned by Zhubai’s flesh and blood would not wait either.

The hatred expanding amidst the clamor caused the temperature to drop sharply. The cage fires of East Street were swallowed and extinguished one by one, replaced by eerie gloom and crimson.

The faces gradually becoming clear in the black mist were soaked in dark red blood, with white fire flowing in their hollow eye sockets.

“It’s… white fire.” Cold sweat poured down Dongfang Qianyao’s face. “Dream Fire. Sister Ji Wu, they have Dream Fire on them.”

Before Ji Wu could respond, a massive vengeful spirit took the lead in attacking, pouncing forward with a bloody, gaping maw.

It grew hot again; it was the scorching heat of that white fire.

Ji Wu’s willow-leaf brows knitted tightly as the long sword in her hand traced a silver arc to strike the spirit.

The spirit with Dream Fire in its eyes was knocked back several yards, but Ji Wu was also in a wretched state; she could hardly land any more substantial blows.

The malice of vengeful spirits was different from that of delusive ghosts or ordinary demons; it could not be completely severed by cold steel alone.

“Qianyao, burn them,” Ji Wu raised her voice. “Quickly.”

These Imperial City spirits died by Dream Fire; they should be very wary of flame light.

“I-I-I-I… I am the worst at fire techniques.” Dongfang Qianyao’s eyes were full of terror. Her hands gripped her sword tightly, but she couldn’t even manage a swing.

Her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. “I’m sorry, Sister Ji Wu. I’m so useless, I—”

“—People are not meant to be ‘used’!” Ji Wu threw Ming Xi’s words back at Dongfang Qianyao and shouted sternly, “People live their lives out. Do you want to live?”

“Yes, I do.” Dongfang Qianyao forced herself to steady her mind, condensing fire techniques and throwing several fireballs forward.

The brilliant orange-red spiritual fire was exceptionally striking amidst the dense blackness. Several of the nearest spirits were ignited and vanished with screams.

“It works! Sister Ji Wu, it works!” Dongfang Qianyao regained some confidence. “I can do it. I can keep doing it.”

She tried hard to recall fire techniques suitable for a siege of this magnitude. Beside her, Ji Wu gave instructions in a low voice, her tone as composed as ever.

The Ancestor Master endured her internal injuries. A few stray strands of black hair had escaped the blue hair ribbon, stuck to her deathly pale cheeks by thin sweat. Even in such a disheveled state, Ji Wu’s face was still breathtakingly beautiful.

Her deep, cold eyes were red. Her collar, loosened by the frantic struggle against the siege, opened slightly, revealing the cat-paw mark Ming Xi had left earlier.

Another wave of spirits pounced, carrying inextinguishable Dream Fire around them.

“Careful. Whatever you do, do not touch those white fires,” Ji Wu warned.

She pivoted to avoid the spirit’s mutated fangs, holding her sword horizontally to confront them. But in the end, she suffered from internal depletion; how could she withstand the impact of malice without spiritual power circulating?

Ji Wu groaned. Just as she was about to be entangled by the bloody maws and Dream Fire, several golden thin needles flew out from her sweat-soaked long hair, splashing and dancing into a golden light that slammed violently into the encroaching spirits.

Boom—

With a loud crash, the spirits struck by the golden light howled as they turned into patches of blood mist, instantly crushed and cleared away.

The impact also sent Ji Wu staggering backward; her footing was unsteady, and she nearly failed to remain upright.

The paw print Ming Xi left on her arm actually felt faint heat. Ji Wu realized that what had just flown from her hair must have been the beast fur Ming Xi left before departing.

“Sister Ji Wu.” Dongfang Qianyao supported Ji Wu. “This won’t do. These Dream Fires have already lit up East Street.”

Everyone knew of Dream Fire.

White flame by night, black fire by day—it was a divine power known only to the Spirit Mountain Deity.

This fire could never be exhausted or extinguished; only the seawater of Nanling could lower its temperature.

But where could they fetch Nanling seawater in a dream right now?

Dongfang Qianyao’s voice was full of helplessness and fear. After Ji Wu comforted her with a few words, she also knew it was to no avail.

If she didn’t have internal damage, how could a scene like this trap her?

However, regretting her refusal to compromise with Ming Xi was useless now. Ji Wu sensed her physical strength was fading rapidly, yet the Imperial City spirits were gathering more and more, coming in an endless stream.

“Give back our lives! Give them back! We were innocent commoners; why did we die for nothing and have to suffer such pain!”

The cries, accompanied by the stench of corpses, surrounded them once more. The lamentations were mixed with the eerie joy of the East Street souls, sounding hair-raising.

“Why? Why? You wanted to kill the Spirit Mountain Deity, so why must we, the commoners of the Imperial City, be buried with her?”

“Why won’t that fire stop burning! It hurts so much!”

“It hurts! I jumped into the lake; why is it still burning, still burning!”

“I’m already dead, and it’s still burning in my bones!”

“It hurts! It hurts!”

The screams and interrogations pounded against their ears, making it even harder for Ji Wu and Dongfang Qianyao to hold on.

“I-I-I… I won’t burn you anymore. I’m sorry!” Terrified, Dongfang Qianyao switched her spiritual techniques, summoning ice spikes to form an ice prison.

The scorching high temperature dropped slightly for an instant, but it soon became unsustainable. After all, Dongfang Qianyao’s cultivation was insufficient; how could her ice techniques withstand the Deity’s Dream Fire?

This Dream Fire had burned for eight years, and reappearing in a dream through the bodies of vengeful spirits, it still possessed such power. This was a testament to how terrifying the Spirit Mountain Deity had been back then.

Seeing the spirits about to break through the defense again, Dongfang Qianyao closed her eyes in fright.

The white firelight illuminated the two figures, making them look haggard and pale. Ji Wu concentrated on her breathing, turned around, and found Ji-fang, who was protected by the ice ring. “Give me Ming Xi’s thing.”

Her words were cryptic, but Ji-fang was already soul-detached and would only follow the guest’s orders in such a situation.

“Very well.” She presented the candy wrapper Ming Xi had folded for her earlier.

The paper was still as stiff as when it was given. Ji Wu took it and tore it open directly, obtaining Ming Xi’s whisker.

She was exhausted, and tears welled up uncontrollably in her eyes, but she could no longer care which spirit had scratched her again.

Ji Wu made a prompt decision; she used Ming Xi’s whisker to prick her own finger and wiped the flowing blood onto her lips.

Gathering spirit with blood—a method cultivators could use to save themselves when driven to a dead end.

Ji Wu hadn’t expected she would ever be in such a wretched state.

The scene before her eyes gradually became blurred; white fire and black malice intertwined into a mass of chaos. The wails, screams, and interrogations were still in her ears…

“You must not.”

These three words were like a dispelling incantation, instantly restoring clarity to Ji Wu.

A streak of light, like a falling star, shot down from high above, piercing through the black mist and rushing to Ji Wu’s side.

It was a cat of gold and silver colors.

The little cat glowed faintly. Upon touching the ground, it transformed rapidly, and in the blink of an eye, it became a lively young girl again.

Ming Xi had changed back into her exquisite padded jacket and her little skirt with ruffled edges.

Her hair was styled into two ox-horn buns, and she wasn’t wearing pearl flowers anymore, but two large, one black and one white, seashell ornaments.

“Oh dear, how mean. Bullying my precious Wuwu and… the beautiful sister who is an acquaintance anyway, while I’m away.”

Ming Xi shook her head. Looking at the white fire and black malice before her, she wasn’t worried at all; she just wrinkled her face and sighed, “This is all old. Let me get you some fresh ones.”

With a snap, Ming Xi flicked her fingers. Simultaneously, the firelight of the entire East Street vanished, plunging everything into darkness.

It was so dark one couldn’t see their own hand. Ji Wu was about to tell the Dream Beast to stop fooling around, but she only felt a softness at her waist. Ming Xi leaned in to hug her and whispered in her ear:

“Wuwu, a favor, please.”

She cupped Ji Wu’s face and gave her a very deliberate, sweet kiss.

Mwah.

The mischievous little beast smiled and added, “Lend me some fire.”