The Beautiful Pariah Thought He Could Be Loved - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Puppet Figures with Numb Expressions Crisscross…

As dusk deepened, a black veil draped over everything. Snowflakes fell silently, and in an instant, the ground was covered in a thick layer of snow.

In the center of two or three hundred people with varying expressions, He Huaqing stood alone. Amidst the crowded throng, a circle remained empty around him; no one dared approach. Snowflakes cut bloody streaks across his face, but his superior physical constitution allowed the wounds to heal rapidly.

His pale green eyes seemed to be the only touch of bright color in the world. His skin was slashed again, and the layers of scars were a shocking sight.

The two or three hundred people before him were of all ages, their expressions obscure and undecipherable.

The sound of the wind carried from afar. Huaqing’s hand gripping the sword tightened imperceptibly. On the surface, his expression was gentle, and he repeated warmly, “I am He Huaqing of Fayu Temple. Who forced you to wear purple?”

The Sword Sovereign, usually known for being cold and detached, rarely showed such tenderness.

A string in the air was plucked. Vivid expressions suddenly appeared on the people’s faces. Under the grayish-yellow air, simple faces revealed the joy of being saved. They wept sadly, and the air was filled with a chorus of crying and pleading.

A child tugged at the corner of He Huaqing’s robe and said tearfully, “Big brother, it was a very tall, bad brother. He locked up our relatives. Can you save them?”

The girl looked only five years old. Her clothes were put on haphazardly, and a large patch of mud stained her sleeve. Her voice was childish, and the sadness in her bright eyes stung He Huaqing. He leaned down: “What happened? Can you tell me?”

The girl said blankly, “Half a month ago, a big brother came to the village. He said he wanted to spend five thousand spirit stones to have the people of Chu Village act out a festive holiday scene for twenty days.”

“Everyone happily agreed. But after acting for a few days, everyone realized that some people in the village had gone missing. Grandpa Village Head searched all over Lychee Mountain but couldn’t find them.”

“The Village Head terminated the deal and demanded the brother pay the reward.”

“The brother refused, reasoning that the original request was to act for a month, but it had only been a week. The Village Head agreed to lower the price, but the brother wouldn’t pay a single cent.”

“During this time, several more people disappeared one after another. My brother disappeared too… a total of eleven went missing.”

“Everyone wanted to chase the man off the mountain. During the shoving, the man used magic to kill several people.” The girl’s voice was terrified. “Then he kidnapped dozens of our villagers, threatening everyone to keep acting, or he would kill them.”

“By tonight, we have been acting for thirty days.”

Huaqing murmured in a low voice: “Twenty… eleven…”

“Festive… many people… how many villagers are there in Chu Village in total?”

The girl looked at him uncomprehendingly. Huaqing estimated in his mind; it should be around three hundred people.

Sparks of anger instantly flared in He Huaqing’s eyes, and he said sharply, “It’s the Soul Refining Array! He wants to refine human souls to obtain Soul Beads! Swallowing a Soul Bead can increase one’s cultivation by several hundred years!”

He lowered his head in deep thought: “Yes, it must be the Soul Refining Array. At first, he wanted to set up a large-scale array. First, three hundred and thirty-three people gather together, then eleven are killed in succession. Gathering for twenty-two days would be the day the array reaches completion.”

“But his killing was discovered. Forced by necessity, he killed people outside the plan, and there weren’t enough villagers left. So, he switched to a small-scale array. One hundred and eighty people gather for thirty days, and the collected vitality can trigger the array!”

Huaqing’s divine sense instantly blanketed the entire mountain. At such a critical moment, the demonic cultivator was actually not on the mountain! At the same time, he perceived that a barrier had been placed on Lychee Mountain; outsiders could no longer ascend.

The immediate priority was to rescue those who had been kidnapped. Otherwise, the demonic cultivator might use them as hostages.

“Little one, do you know where they are being held?”

The girl shook her head ignorantly. “But if I stand there and swallow the herb the bad brother gave me, I can see Daddy.”

The girl pointed to a spot five or six meters to He Huaqing’s right. The crowd parted to reveal an open space where an array was drawn in blood. Red lines of varying shades interlaced, eventually outlining a pattern resembling two hands cradling a heart.

“The bad brother only gives us one herb every five days.” The little girl took out a jagged little grass. Huaqing recognized it as Spirit Accumulating Grass.

Spirit Accumulating Grass is a necessary herb for cultivators in the Qi Refining stage. Its effect is to strengthen the flow of spiritual energy within the body after consumption, making it easier for cultivators to comprehend techniques. If mortals eat it, it can only provide a trace amount of spiritual energy.

The grass carried a faint black light—the demonic cultivator’s own demonic energy.

Huaqing’s gaze shifted to the array. It was a very basic spatial array, but it was clear the person who drew it had a solid foundation. Only with the spiritual energy of the array’s master can a mortal be recognized by the array and briefly enter; once the spiritual energy is exhausted, they are automatically kicked out.

After being recognized by the array, one can enter an independent space, which would be the scene that left the deepest impression on the array’s creator.

Huaqing had to determine if their relatives were truly alive. “Can you touch him after entering the array?”

The girl nodded while crying and stuffed the herb into He Huaqing’s hand. “Brother, hurry in and save my dad.”

Huaqing lowered his eyes to look at the herb tinged with black energy. He could handle this level of demonic energy without a significant rejection reaction or losing his fighting strength.

Huaqing walked onto the array, raised the herb, and opened his mouth… when a stone struck his hand aside.

A youth’s exclamation came from diagonally behind him, “Are you crazy?!”

He Huaqing turned around. A strange youth in red holding an iron umbrella glared at him. On his beautiful face, radiance flowed between his brows and eyes. The moment their gazes met, the youth’s eyes shrunk inexplicably, looking somewhat intimidated by him.

The noise behind them stopped for a moment, as if everyone was stunned into silence by the youth’s beauty.

“Young friend, this faint demonic energy is of no hindrance to me.” He Huaqing raised the herb again.

The youth shouted: “He Huaqing! Have your eyes been pecked by birds? Look closely—are those behind you even human!”

Huaqing’s hand loosened, and the herb fell onto the snowy ground. He turned back. The girl who had just been crying to him now had a dull expression and a grayish face. Her soulless eyes stared at him. He looked up; the snow was still falling, the faint rustling sound being the only noise at this moment. Nearly three hundred people stared at him with numb expressions.

The girl in front of him suddenly opened her mouth wide. Her gaping maw was half the size of her face, and her tongue was unnaturally long, flicking out like a snake’s tongue. Its target was to wrap around He Huaqing’s arm!

Huaqing watched it expressionlessly, his mood heavy. The thumb of his right hand moved slightly. He pushed the hilt, bared the blade, and slashed forward. After a sound of breaking wind, the girl’s head fell to the ground, quickly turning into yellow paper. Her lifelike eyes turned into two ink dots.

At the cross-section of her neck, several puppet strings fluttered in the wind.

The snow grew heavier, burying ankles in its layers. From a distance, a man covered in blood stood silently in the vast white snow, facing off against three hundred people.

If he killed all the puppets, the puppet strings twisted together would point to the master. But He Huaqing could not lift his sword. Had these people truly been completely refined into puppets? Was there any chance they could be brought back to life?

He didn’t dare think of the answers to these questions, yet he had to.

The youth in red ran to his side, squatted down, and felt the paper man’s neck a few times.

The continuous pain since ascending the mountain vanished. He Huaqing turned his head. The youth in red had run to his side, his cat-like eyes staring at him nervously. He stood on tiptoe, straining to hold the iron umbrella over him.

The youth held up the puppet strings in his hand. “I pulled these out of that paper man’s neck. Thirteen strings. Those people might still retain a sliver of human consciousness; it’s still possible for them to come back to life! Don’t kill them!”

Fourteen puppet strings would prove that the puppet had completely lost its human vitality and become a dead object that felt no pain. Thirteen strings could only be said to be slightly better than fourteen; the chance of coming back to life was infinitesimal. But that tiny sliver of possibility indeed made it impossible for He Huaqing to act.

He had to find that demonic cultivator and make him willingly release control without killing the puppets. This was an extremely thorny task.

Huaqing asked in a low voice: “Who are you?”

The youth seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and smiled at him. “My name is Xin Qishu, just a nobody.”

“Is this a little trick of yours?” A ghostly male voice came from afar.

The two looked over. A man in purple holding a blade stood in the distance, watching them from afar.

The man’s face was deathly pale, with black energy between his brows. He slowly walked toward them.

“Hand over the Leaf Vein Sword, and I can spare your lives,” the man said.

Huaqing’s face was as cold as frost: “What sword? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Not handing it over? Then die.”

Huaqing mocked: “Even when killing, you make an excuse for yourself.”

The man in purple suddenly burst forward, closing the distance in a few moments, raising his blade high to strike. Simultaneously, wisps of black energy spread from beneath He Huaqing’s feet, outlining an array with a complex pattern.

Huaqing was fearless. With a slight flick of his wrist, the tip of his sword traced an arc, and a crescent of white spiritual energy surged out, shattering the array in an instant.

As the blade struck down from the air, He Huaqing shifted his footing to move his body, raising his sword to block.

The demonic cultivator was forced back several steps, staring at He Huaqing with a distorted face. Huaqing exerted pressure with his hand, looking at him coldly: “Surrender now. Being killed by me is your best fate.”

The demonic cultivator gave a wretched chuckle. The snowflakes were like blades, and the vision of both men was a bloody red blur. With a slight movement of his left hand, the puppets outside the battle began to move: “He Huaqing of Fayu Temple, is it? I’ll remember you. You thief who steals and doesn’t return things!”

“There’s no need; you won’t see me again.” With a wave of his right hand, He Huaqing sent the pouncing puppets flying. He then formed a hand seal and attacked the demonic cultivator.

The demonic cultivator couldn’t react in time, taking the spiritual wave squarely in the chest. His face turned pale, the corners of his mouth twitched, and blood overflowed.

The outcome was decided. A flicker of strangeness passed through He Huaqing’s heart. The puppets had only pounced once and then stopped moving entirely. No more puppets with non-human organs, like the little girl, appeared.

This person’s control over the puppets seemed unskilled?

Huaqing’s wrist lowered slightly, his long sword held horizontally against the man’s neck. “Withdraw your puppet strings.”

Puppet strings are not like soul-bound artifacts. If the number is fewer than nine, and the person’s own will is strong, an outsider with high cultivation can remove them. If there are more than nine, only the master of the strings can do it.

“Ha…” The demonic cultivator spat out a mouthful of fresh blood. “Am I stupid? If I withdraw them, you’ll kill me immediately.”

“Do it, then! If I die, those hundreds of people will die too.” The demonic cultivator smiled provocatively. “I’ve long heard the Sword Sovereign has many skills; I didn’t expect you wouldn’t even know how to pull out a mere four puppet strings.”

“Famous, but failing to live up to the name!”

“Four strings?” Huaqing’s expression froze. When the youth felt the puppet strings, his body had blocked He Huaqing’s line of sight; he hadn’t seen the process of the youth pulling them out.

The youth had lied to him! Once he realized, he quickly looked for Xin Qishu’s figure.

The moon emerged from behind the fleecy clouds, illuminating the entire square. Snowflakes spiraled down.

A few meters away in the crowd, through the gaps where the numb puppet figures crisscrossed, the youth in red resolutely swallowed the herb. The array beneath his feet instantly pulsed with black light.

Under the moonlight, the youth’s expression was sorrowful, his beauty breathtaking.

The demonic cultivator also suddenly looked up at Xin Qishu, his face twisted and hideous: “It’s you! You triggered the Leaf Vein Sword to lure me down the mountain!”

“You want to steal my Soul-Snatching Array!—”

The youth turned his head. Huaqing watched as he revealed a panicked expression, his pale pink lips slightly parted, and his brown eyes widened.

The black light of the array suddenly rose, as tall as a man. The youth’s figure became blurred, but He Huaqing knew he was still looking at him.

Huaqing raised his left hand into the air, veins bulging on the back of it. The sound of breaking wind echoed as thousands of puppet strings were extracted at extreme speed, flying toward his palm. He abruptly clenched his left fist.

When he opened his hand again, only ashes fell to the ground.

In the distance, the people from whom the strings were extracted collapsed one after another. The demonic cultivator cried out in shock. Huaqing forcibly drew a wisp of the man’s demonic energy into his own body, then thrust his sword all the way through. The demonic cultivator collapsed, clutching the hole in his neck from which blood surged.

In the final moment, he plunged into the black light. Within the constantly flickering black light, Xin Qishu was huddled guiltily in a corner. At the moment of weightlessness, He Huaqing looked at him coldly and grabbed the corner of his robe.