The Cold, Aloof Senior Sister Deserves To Be Paired With A Peerless Beauty - Chapter 36

Has she dressed up as a ghost to scare people today?

Although the secret realm had appeared, the entrance had not yet truly opened. Consequently, the immortal cultivators who had arrived at the Cangqing Sect were all properly arranged in various locations to rest.

Night had fallen. The stars and the bright moon were hidden behind thick layers of clouds, unable to shed even a glimmer of light. This added an inexplicable sense of desolation and dread to the silent night.

The piercing cold wind bit at the skin, and the rustling of leaves sounded like the movement of specters, making one’s heart turn cold with instinctive fear.

Suddenly, a locked door was violently blown open by a powerful gust of wind. The heavy wooden door hit the wall with a loud “bang,” the candle flame inside was instantly extinguished, and the furnishings were overturned. In the gloom, the once tidy room became a scene of total chaos.

The person inside, preparing to rest, was struck by a falling teapot. As it shattered on the floor, his feet were surrounded by shards of porcelain.

Though he wasn’t seriously hurt, the man in the room frowned in displeasure. However, the eerie cold wind blowing from behind made his body tremble involuntarily.

Inexplicably, he seemed to hear sounds accompanied by the wind, sounds that did not seem human.

Pang Fei instinctively gripped his sword, his body stiffening as he turned around. He found only the door blown open, facing a pitch-black exterior that made it impossible to see clearly.

Seeing this, Pang Fei frowned and muttered a disdainful complaint, “The quality of this door is terrible.” Yet, he simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief.

As he walked toward the door, impatiently thinking about how to fix it, something brushed against his ankle, soft as a snake, slowly crawling up his body.

At first, it wrapped around him loosely, conveying no sense of danger. Instead, it carried a hint of an ambiguous, flirtatious atmosphere, causing Pang Fei to gradually lower his guard.

Pang Fei looked down at the soft silken sash (pibo) winding around him. A look of disgusting smugness flashed in his eyes, and his lips curled into what he thought was a wicked smile. Casting aside his refined facade, he regressed into the behavior of a street hooligan or a debauched playboy, speaking in a teasing tone:

“Which little fairy is visiting late at night, so impatient for a midnight tryst with me?”

As he spoke, his expression remained playful. He didn’t take the sash seriously, he even proactively tossed his sword aside, putting his hands up in a mock surrender as if he were flirting with someone hidden in the shadows.

The sash began to tighten, but so slowly that Pang Fei mistakenly believed someone was merely teasing him. He didn’t struggle, allowing it to bind his limbs, the smirk on his face growing bolder.

“Why doesn’t the little fairy come out? Hiding like this… are you too shy?”

As his last word fell, a faint sound came from not far away, the sound of a dry branch being snapped. In the silent night, it sounded exceptionally sinister and eerie.

Hearing this, however, Pang Fei’s face filled with excitement. He looked around, and though he saw no one, his interest only deepened. He paid no heed to the tightening of the soft silk.

Then, the sash that had wrapped him up like a cocoon suddenly constricted. It left no gaps, and the section near his neck tightened violently.

The sudden constriction caught Pang Fei completely off guard. The moment he felt the sensation of suffocation, he also felt the murderous intent of the person controlling it.

Pang Fei tried to break free from the magical silken weapon, but it was useless. His face twisted into a terrifying shade of blue and purple as he struggled for air.

“Who?! Who is it! Come out…”

Pang Fei’s words were broken, unable to form a complete sentence. The howling wind drowned out his angry questioning. The pressure on his neck increased, forcibly cutting off his voice.

The silk that had been soft moments ago had become a lethal weapon. The suddenness of the shift brought with it a sense of endless despair.

The previous boredom and teasing were finally met with an explosion of fury triggered by his shameless words.

Since entering the Cangqing Sect, Pang Fei had maintained a gentle and refined appearance, but his inner arrogance remained unabated, a trait that had become more pronounced after befriending Mo Fan. To show off his “status,” he had requested to stay in a secluded, independent house arranged by Immortal Venerable Shangling.

Thus, no matter how much noise he made now, not a single fellow disciple would discover it.

The feeling of suffocation grew stronger. Pang Fei’s bloodshot eyes bulged, making him look like a hideous demon.

However, he was the Eldest Senior Brother of another sect after all, and his strength was not negligible. After the initial panic, he forced himself to calm down. His spiritual power erupted, forcing the silk to loosen slightly and allowing him to gasp for breath.

But the opponent clearly had no intention of letting him go. The silk tried to tighten again, but due to the disparity in their cultivation levels, it could only barely maintain its hold on him.

A figure hidden in the shadows stiffened, a dark glint of sharp killing intent flashing in their eyes. However, after several attempts, they had no choice but to give up.

Seeing the silk that had nearly strangled him trying to retreat, Pang Fei’s expression turned grim. He grabbed one end of it and shouted, “Who is it! Hiding your head and showing your tail…”

Before he could finish, the other end of the silk, the one he hadn’t caught hurled something into his open mouth.

A foul, stench-filled odor made Pang Fei’s eyes roll back. As he tried to spit it out, the end he was holding slipped away like a nimble snake. The next moment, the “tail” of the silk whipped across his face twice without mercy.

Being a high-grade spiritual tool disguised as a sash, those two strikes were enough to daze him. While not fatal, his face quickly swelled up like a pig’s head.

At that moment, half a figure appeared from behind a tree, staring at him with cold, sharp eyes.

In Pang Fei’s eyes, the face of the person appearing was a blur, completely unrecognizable, as if they had no skin at all. The sight chilled him to the bone.

Pang Fei looked at the blurry shadow, several names flashing through his mind, but eventually, fear spread through his entire body. His swollen face wasn’t red instead, it was an unnatural, sickly pale, and the edges of his jaw seemed slightly curled, as if something had been pasted onto it.

Mu Zhi looked at him with unprecedented coldness. If not for her lack of strength, she would have torn him into ten thousand pieces. She could not imagine how the man she liked, a man she viewed as pure as the wind and the moon, had become the subject of ridicule because of a single rumor spread by this man.

Seeing Pang Fei holding his sword in terror, Mu Zhi had no choice but to leave, despite her lingering resentment.

Only after the figure disappeared into the darkness did Pang Fei breathe a sigh of relief. He remained shaken, his body collapsing to the ground in a heap as he panted heavily.

Remembering how he had lost face today, his expression darkened. He punched the ground, his voice raspy and unpleasant. “Who is it?!”

He reached up to touch his face. When his fingers met the slight protrusion at his jaw, his expression became hideous once more. But he couldn’t find the culprit now, and being on someone else’s territory, he could only swallow his anger and limp back into his room.

The candle he relit was blown out again. Frustrated by the series of setbacks, Pang Fei lost his temper and swept the entire table over. Staring at the mess of porcelain shards on the floor did not satisfy him, he wobbled over to kick the overturned table.

Before he could reach it, a sliver of moonlight broke through the clouds. In that weak light, he glimpsed a ghostly touch of plain white in the corner.

The white was jarring against the darkness, radiating an eerie vibe. It drifted toward him like an invisible vengeful spirit coming for his life.

Pang Fei saw the hem of the garment. Although it looked clean, he felt as though he could smell blood in the air.

Instantly, a coldness even more terrifying than the previous suffocation hit him. It crawled up his spine, making his entire body tremble. The sword fell from his hand.

He stared at the sword on the floor, the blade reflecting his terrified eyes, but he didn’t dare squat down to pick it up, fearing the “ghost” would strike the moment he looked away.

The wind outside wailed like someone crying in grief.

“This… this is the Cangqing Sect… I advise you demons and ghosts to behave…”

Before he could finish his stuttering threat, a cold sneer echoed from nowhere, a sound like unmelting snow on a glacier, threatening to bury him.

Pang Fei shook like a sieve, stammering out a few names to the ghostly figure. Seeing the figure remain motionless, its hem merely fluttering in the cold wind, the shadow crept closer to him.

Pang Fei seemed to remember something. His face turned as white as paper, and he began to mutter to himself, defending his actions:

“You’re the one who used death to threaten me… I didn’t tell you to die…”

An icy wind suddenly struck. A shadow fell before him, its oppressive aura chilling his blood. Without time to think, his body met a powerful force, and he was flipped onto the ground, just like the broken table nearby.

Upturned eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing the twisted figure on the ground with a flash of malice.

Pang Fei, finding a surge of desperate courage, lunged with his sword, but it pierced through nothingness. He had descended into a frenzy, wildly stabbing at the air around him.

“You’re dead! Do you want me to die with you?! Why are you so selfish! You brought it on yourself! What does it have to do with me?!”

His manic behavior was watched by a figure outside the window, who looked down in deep thought.

She gave a light, mocking laugh. Her voice was calm, indifferent, and tinged with disgust.

“I didn’t know which physician had the skill to reconstruct bones and tendons… and also…”

Her voice trailed off. She didn’t finish. Instead, she gave that face one last, deep look of contempt.