The Aloof Master Relies on This Cat's Kisses to Survive - Chapter 9

East Street Dream Talk

“Leaving? Hmm?”

Jiwu remained silent, her expression unreadable, but her gaze shifted slightly.

This subtle change did not escape the notice of Mingxi, who controlled the dreamscape. At once, Jiwu was doused in a fresh wave of cold sorrow, yet she stubbornly forced the tears to remain pooled in her eyes.

With a muffled, dark rasp born of suppressed sobbing, the grievance in the depths of Mingxi’s eyes looked like sugar that had been scorched bitter by the passage of time. “But… Wuwu, if you aren’t ‘good’ with me, how will the damage to your body recover?”

Jiwu’s expression stiffened as she averted her eyes from Mingxi’s gaze. “The words I have spoken hold true. You need not make plans for my sake.”

She cautioned herself once more not to be moved by this beast. She told herself that finding Mingxi approachable or close was merely an effect of the contract—an illusion cast by the dream, not reality.

Suppressing the inner turmoil of her heart, Jiwu spoke with solemn gravity. “You were born unrestrained and are different from humans; there is no need to stay by my side because of a contract.”

The sky is high and the sea is wide; Mingxi could go anywhere, just as she had before.

Selfishly, Jiwu should have confined her to her side for healing; for the greater good, she should have coaxed Mingxi into stability to prevent her and the Spirit Mountain from disturbing the human world or lashing out at spiritual cultivators.

But Jiwu did not believe such a path was right.

How can a dream not be free?

She certainly did not approve of Mingxi’s words and deeds; she even felt a sense of revulsion toward the beast’s wanton recklessness. But Mingxi did not need Jiwu’s approval.

Whether eight years ago or eight hundred years ago, the Dream Beast never had to follow the rules of men.

What a pity, what a pity—the beast before her eyes had long since forgotten she was the Lord of a Mountain.

Mingxi shook her head in refusal. “But I like following Wuwu.”

“Wuwu, look, there are so many spirits on Spirit Mountain, and that—whatever they call it—Spirit Mountain God Lord might even be reborn or return. If she suddenly looks for trouble with Wuwu, how will you deal with it?”

Jiwu pursed her lips, unsure of how to answer.

The rebellious beast was detestable, yet she fretted over Jiwu at every turn. Jiwu resisted this connection so fiercely; as the Master of Dreams, how could Mingxi not sense it?

If this creature truly had no heart to heal Jiwu, she could simply wash her hands of it and leave. The Dongfang clan could hardly stop her. As for that lie about being a guardian beast, Mingxi could acknowledge it if she chose, or ignore it if she didn’t—who could force her?

What had bound Mingxi all along was the contract, and the object of that contract, Jiwu. It was never the stories told by the Dongfang elders.

“The Spirit Mountain God Lord…” Jiwu looked at the God Lord herself and shook her head. “She does not hold grudges. It does not matter.”

This was not a lie. Over the centuries, Jiwu had indeed never heard of this Dream Beast seeking out anyone to settle a score or resolve a grievance.

If she had a grudge, she settled it on the spot.

When the Dongfang clan besieged her, she wiped out half the city. When Jiwu tried to kill her, she retaliated in kind. Given that Jiwu was now in such a weak and powerless state, even if Mingxi hadn’t lost her memory, she wouldn’t bother coming back to argue with her.

“Even if it’s not to guard against her revenge, Wuwu’s own body must recover. And what about your spells? What about your cultivation?”

Mingxi knew that humans were diligent, unlike spiritual beings who gained enlightenment naturally. Since Jiwu was the recognized genius of her clan and bore the name of that Ancestor Master, she must have exerted a tremendous amount of effort for the sake of ascension.

“Besides spiritual cultivation, there are many other arts in the world to study. If I truly cannot use spiritual arts in the future, I will not force it.” Jiwu shook her head. “There are many spiritual herbs on Spirit Mountain. I know a few recipes and understand farming. I can—”

“—You cannot! How could I bear that? Master used to be so powerful; you could even go to besiege the Spirit Mountain God Lord at such a young age, and now you say you want to plant medicinal herbs?”

Mingxi snorted in disdain. “Then Master will become all smelly. No, no—Mingxi likes Master’s current scent.”

It was fresh and clear, much like the scent of the wind.

The mountains did not have this scent, but Mingxi liked it very much.

“Enough. You need not worry about what I do in the future; I will find a way for my body.” Since Jiwu knew the other’s true intentions, she could no longer coax Mingxi into sacrificing for her. “As for the contract, once my spiritual manor is stable, I will find someone to undo it.”

Mingxi looked as if she wanted to speak but stopped. The tufts of hair on her forehead drooped, and she looked so dejected that her tail even emerged.

The bicolor fluffy thing appeared, but it didn’t pat around everywhere as it used to. Instead, it trailed behind her, devoid of energy.

She was sad; Mingxi was unhappy.

For some reason, Jiwu felt a flash of panic.

It wasn’t the kind of chaos she felt when she was lured into the Dream Garden by this rebellious beast these past few nights; it was a more unnameable loss of control.

It was as if there were certain restrictions you never knew existed until you accidentally knocked them down, only then realizing there was such a place within your heart.

A place where no one—including yourself—had ever been.

“…Why are you acting like this?” Jiwu lifted her hand once more. This time, she did not hesitate; she reached out.

Her long fingers touched Mingxi’s tail, stroking the soft, bicolor fur. Jiwu controlled her strength, smoothing it a few times with extreme gentleness.

A natural-born spiritual beast like Mingxi naturally possessed the most lustrous fur. Her tail felt incredibly smooth and supple to the touch.

Jiwu had known Mingxi for hundreds of years and was no stranger to her half-human, half-beast form, but she had never touched her tail.

In the past, whenever the two met, they greeted each other with blades and swords.

Mingxi was clearly surprised as well. She had been preparing to dissolve this dream-within-a-dream according to Jiwu’s wishes, but being suddenly stroked so tenderly, she couldn’t help but let out a soft hum of pleasure.

“Master!” She turned around and lunged into Jiwu’s arms.

Suddenly, a bundle of soft fragrance dropped onto Jiwu. She had no time to react and could only wrap her arms around the newcomer to hold her up.

Mingxi’s tail was still wagging behind her. After Jiwu held Mingxi tightly, she couldn’t resist stroking the fur of the tail once more.

Mingxi hummed a light tune contentedly.

“Hum~ hum hum~~” She rested her chin in the crook of Jiwu’s neck, her head happily rubbing back and forth, wishing she could mark her entire scent onto Jiwu.

It was impossible to tell whose heartbeat it was; regardless, it was a very, very close resonance.

Fast and loud, yet neither chaotic nor noisy.

Like the harmonious playing of a lute and zither.

“Master.”

“There is no need to call me ‘Master’ anymore.”

“But everyone calls you ‘Senior Sister,’ it’s not intimate at all… In the future, when it’s just the two of us, can I call you Wuwu?”

“…” Jiwu did not respond.

She must not become overly involved with this beast. Jiwu was still disciplining herself not to cross the line, even though Mingxi—who was so happy she was singing in her ear—had already taken Jiwu’s silence as consent.

“Wuwu~ Wuwu~” she repeated twice, then buried her head again and continued to hum while rubbing against Jiwu.

It was a low, “wu-wu-wu” sound; it was hard to tell if she was calling the nickname she had just given Jiwu or simply purring.

The throat pressed against Jiwu’s shoulder was vibrating slightly.

Utterly satisfied.

Mingxi made no effort to hide her feelings. She was so happy she was bursting like a flower—a flower blooming in her heart, and her tail blooming into a fluffy mess, seemingly growing a size larger.

Jiwu subconsciously gave it a squeeze; she couldn’t help herself.

She could only rationalize to herself that she was doing this to soothe Mingxi, and nothing more.

“Wuwu.” Mingxi, of course, did not have as many thoughts as Jiwu.

From beginning to end, her purpose in bringing Jiwu into the dream was simply to be close to her.

“Can I look at your wound again?”

Jiwu, who had been warning herself not to be soft-hearted, immediately let down more of her guard. “…Alright.”

“If you get hurt in a Nightmare Ghost’s dream, it will be very painful when you leave.” Mingxi reluctantly pulled back a little distance from Jiwu, taking her hand once more to check the finger that had been pricked.

The Nightmare Ghost’s dreamscape was ill-intentioned, and because Jiwu was Mingxi’s contract partner, changes in the dream could affect her physical self in the real world.

However, even with the two effects combined, it was just a tiny speck of blood; how much could it hurt?

Mingxi lowered her eyes, checking that bloodstain with utter seriousness.

Her eyelashes were long and thick; they weren’t very curled, just very full.

Jiwu watched as she cradled her hand in her palms, carefully licking away the surface blood and then applying dream-art healing luster, as if weaving a warm, close-fitting garment for a lover.

Jiwu watched, entranced.

Such intimacy was not as rude or unsettling as it had been the previous nights, yet such an action could hardly be called “maintaining boundaries.”

Just as Jiwu was struggling with herself, Mingxi suddenly looked up and met her eyes.

The two were already very close. Being suddenly stared at by Mingxi, Jiwu instinctively pulled back her hand, but then feeling it was too abrupt, she actually—by some strange twist of fate—turned her palm over and cupped Mingxi’s chin.