The Cold And Aloof Senior Sister Keeps Flirting With Me - Chapter 22

Yan Jue listened in silence, her heart gradually turning cold.

She had long known that the life of someone born with the Celestial Spirit Body was destined to be extraordinary, but even so, hearing such things firsthand still left her terrified.

The conversation downstairs came to an abrupt halt.

Without hesitation, Yan Jue tiptoed back up to the second floor.

The moment she stepped onto the corridor, she heard faint footsteps coming from below.

Yan Jue slipped into her room, quietly closing the door and then the window.

The room was instantly swallowed by darkness.

Her eyes shifted slightly as she worked out a plan. From her Qiankun Bag she drew out a single strand of Life Shedding Mustache she had found days ago in the monkey demon’s lair. Holding it in her palm, she gently blew on it.

The Life Shedding Mustache floated softly onto the bed and transformed into the shape of a young girl.

A heartbeat later, someone began picking at her door lock.

The latch gave a faint click. The door creaked open just a sliver, letting a thin line of light slice across the room.

A figure slipped through.

Hiding behind the curtains, Yan Jue could just make out the intruder’s silhouette short and slightly plump.

It was the innkeeper.

The man slowly pushed the door open further, holding in his hand something that looked like a razor-sharp hook.

Though the light was dim, the tip of the hook glowed faintly with a dull phosphorescence.

Yan Jue’s pupils contracted sharply.

That wasn’t a hook it was the innkeeper’s tail!

The tail, knotted and uneven, bulged larger and larger until it was as tall as two men, its tip curved into a cruel barb, trembling with predatory excitement.

The innkeeper squinted his eyes. When Yan Jue finally saw his face, her knees almost gave out.

On that bloated face were six eyes.

Each one shimmered with a dim yellow glow. His mouth slowly split into a wide, twisted grin.

He stood motionless at the door, six eyes flickering as though checking if the person on the bed had noticed him.

Seeing the figure on the bed unmoving, he relaxed, stepped forward, and raised his barbed tail high, plunging it down viciously toward the girl on the bed.

Yan Jue’s heart was pounding in her throat she had never actually used the Life-Shedding Mustache before.

The scorpion-tailed innkeeper’s stinger struck,
but it felt as though it had stabbed into cotton.

The girl’s skin sank inward from the force, yet not a single drop of blood appeared.

The innkeeper froze, then furiously jerked his tail, slashing the girl’s body open only to find a pile of monkey fur inside.

The innkeeper’s face twisted in horror as he screamed,
“G–ghost! GHOST!!”

In that instant, Yan Jue invoked her cultivation art, the Summoning Frost Technique.

Her cultivation might be low, but if this inn truly was, as the innkeeper had said, a great earth grade furnace that suppressed spiritual power then clearly, her own power wasn’t being restricted.

Her entire body flared with spiritual energy, erupting into a storm of icy hail.

The innkeeper barely had time to turn before his back was riddled with countless tiny ice spikes.

The blood that splattered out was a deep, poisonous green.

Yan Jue summoned more ice spears, thrusting them at the scorpion demon.

The demon turned slowly, disbelief twisting across his face.

In the dim light, Yan Jue’s skin was pale as snow, her amber eyes long and sharp.

When he saw that faint golden light flicker within her pupils, he screamed hoarsely:

“You… you’re actually!”

Yan Jue’s gaze turned cold.

Demons were extremely sensitive to the presence of their own kind. She couldn’t risk letting this one shout her true identity.

She drove the ice spears forward.

The icy blades shot out like swords from their scabbards, piercing the demon through.

He staggered two steps forward, collapsed, and never rose again.

Yan Jue paused, feeling a surge of spiritual energy flood her chest. It raced through her limbs until her whole body felt light, so light that she felt she could leap straight to the ceiling.

She didn’t stop to question the feeling. There was no time. She ran from the room.

She had overheard the innkeeper and the Daoist earlier they’d said this inn was an earth grade furnace that heavily restrained those with the Celestial Spirit Body.

Whatever else was true, one thing was certain: Qi Xianqing had been targeted and was in grave danger.

Yan Jue rushed to Qi Xianqing’s room.

The door was shut tight. Strangely quiet.

She’d expected a fight, but there was only silence.

She pushed the door open and slipped inside.

The room was pitch-black.

Yet even in the dark, she could smell a faint, alluring fragrance the blood scent unique to a Celestial Spirit Body.
Undetectable to ordinary people, but intoxicating to demons.

But now was not the time to dwell on it. Yan Jue hurriedly searched the room.

Where was Qi Xianqing? Had she already been taken?

Her heartbeat raced as she reached the bedside.

The blanket lay perfectly smooth no trace of anyone sleeping there.

Suddenly, she heard faint footsteps behind her.

A hand clamped over her mouth before she could turn.

Warmth pressed against her back. A familiar presence.

Yan Jue froze the person holding her was Qi Xianqing.

Qi Xianqing pulled her backward behind the thick bed-curtains, holding her still.

Hot breath brushed Yan Jue’s ear, making her shiver. Turning her head slightly, she met Qi Xianqing’s dark, steady eyes in the shadows.

Just as she was about to whisper, Yan Jue’s peripheral vision caught something and her legs nearly gave out.

If Qi Xianqing hadn’t been holding her up, she would’ve collapsed completely.

At the window, a pale face was peering in.

An elderly Daoist white hair, youthful face, long silver brows, wearing violet robes. His slender fingers gripped the window frame as his bulging eyes scanned the room.

The violet-robed Daoist pulled out a small sword, muttered an incantation, and flung it inward. The blade struck the bed, burying itself a full foot deep.

Had Qi Xianqing been lying there, she would’ve been dead instantly. “She’s not here…” the Daoist murmured.

The sword in the bed suddenly glowed faintly green, the light gathering and pointing in a specific direction.

A breeze stirred the curtains, making them sway.

Yan Jue’s heart pounded. That sword it must be a tracking talisman.

It had caught Qi Xianqing’s lingering aura from the bed, and was now guiding its master.

The Daoist smirked. From his pouch he pulled a folded paper figurine and blew on it.

It dropped to the ground and transformed into a pale woman.

The woman wore white ceremonial robes, her brows elegant, lips bright red.

Her eyes, milky and lifeless, rolled around the room before fixing on the curtained corner. She smiled faintly and began to walk toward them.

Her long fingernails glimmered under the moonlight two full inches long.

Yan Jue felt Qi Xianqing’s body tense behind her. Though her breathing stayed calm, her body radiated heat.

Yan Jue reached back, pressed her hand against Qi Xianqing’s, and shook her head.

Don’t draw your sword.

Qi Xianqing hesitated, loosening her grip slightly, watching as Yan Jue pulled something a strand of hair? from her pouch.

The ghostly woman swayed closer and closer, stopping right in front of the curtain.

She sniffed the air, sensing the scent that drove her mad.

Her lips cracked wider, skin splitting to reveal a corpse blue face beneath her normal teeth stretched into fangs.

With a shriek, she raised her glowing white claws to strike.

Suddenly, a golden hair shot forward.

In midair, it turned into a giant monkey.

The ghost froze, head creaking as she turned.

The golden-armored, purple-crowned monkey demon stood tall, staff in hand, and bellowed thunderously:

The ghost: “?”

Before she could react, the monkey leapt up and smashed her down with one swing of his golden staff.

The room fell silent.

Only a torn paper figure lay on the floor.

Yan Jue swiftly recited a summoning spell the demon sealing ring on her neck fell away, unleashing a roar of dragons and tigers. A golden thread shot forward like an arrow toward the window.

She had to capture the Daoist alive; only he could explain what was happening. But the Daoist merely sneered and vanished into the night.

Yan Jue turned. Qi Xianqing was sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, meditating.

Yan Jue hurried to her. “Are you all right?”

Qi Xianqing’s face was pale. “My spiritual power… is leaking.”

She suddenly formed a hand seal and struck herself hard in the abdomen.

The impact resounded she spat a mouthful of blood.

Yan Jue was horrified. “What are you doing?!”

Qi Xianqing replied coldly, “Sealing my cultivation. It will last six hours.
For that time, I’ll be no different from a mortal.”

Yan Jue was speechless. She’d known Qi Xianqing was ruthless she hadn’t realized she was this ruthless with herself.

But it made sense. If she didn’t suppress her power, the furnace would drain her dry.

Yan Jue frowned. “You could just rebuild your cultivation later why torment yourself like this?”

Qi Xianqing said softly, “My cultivation is everything to me.” Yan Jue had no response to that.

Everyone had their own values. They had to be respected.

Yan Jue quickly recounted what she’d overheard earlier between the Daoist and the innkeeper:
“That Daoist said this inn is some kind of ‘earth grade furnace’ that suppresses high cultivation levels.”

She deliberately avoided mentioning anything about the Celestial Spirit Body.

Even if they were allies now, that secret was too dangerous to share.

Qi Xianqing, however, seemed to understand. Her gaze darkened. “So you came here because you were worried about me?”

Yan Jue blushed furiously. “No… I just… didn’t want them to hurt you…”

“Thank you,” Qi Xianqing said quietly after a pause, gripping her sword Candle Shadow. “I’ve dragged you all into this.”

“It’s fine,” Yan Jue said quickly. “We’re a team. We face things together.
Besides, he wasn’t just after you. I heard them say they crave women’s yin essence. We’re all targets!”

Qi Xianqing gave her a long look.

Yan Jue, flustered, changed the subject. “Let’s check on Duan Luxi.”

“All right,” Qi Xianqing said.

As they moved, Qi Xianqing lightly tugged the hem of Yan Jue’s robe.

“The light’s too dim,” she said. “I can’t see clearly.”

“Oh,” Yan Jue answered, then quickly warned, “Watch your step stairs ahead.”

Too late Qi Xianqing stumbled. Yan Jue caught her by the arm.

“Careful,” she whispered.

Qi Xianqing said nothing.

The Celestial Spirit Body was holding onto her robe if she were anyone else, she would’ve had a nosebleed from the thought alone.

Stop it, she scolded herself. Even without her powers, she’s not someone you could protect.

“Boom!”

Before they even reached Duan Luxi’s room, a deafening explosion sounded from inside.

Duan Luxi stood there in disarray, barely dressed, clashing swords with another Daoist.

This one had white hair and ruddy cheeks clearly far stronger than the last.

His blade flashed, and with a hiss, a deep cut opened across Duan Luxi’s shoulder. She staggered, blood splattering.

The Daoist smiled cruelly, raising his sword again to strike her head.

Yan Jue and Qi Xianqing exchanged a look, then leapt forward together.

Yan Jue pulled another Life-Shedding Mustache from her bag, blew on it.

Qi Xianqing frowned at the sight.

The golden hairs fell to the floor and turned into five or six lively monkeys.

One grabbed the Daoist’s leg, another his arm, another climbed onto his shoulders, clawing at his eyes.

Yan Jue stood in their midst, wind whipping her robes radiating fierce confidence.

Qi Xianqing silently thought she was about to shout, “My minions, ATTACK!”

“…”

Duan Luxi blinked, then, seizing the moment, lifted her greatsword Osmanthus.

With a roar, she brought it down.

The Daoist’s head was cleaved clean through, the blade smashing even the wooden floor beneath.

The body hit the ground and turned into yet another paper figure.

Qi Xianqing knelt, picking it up. Roughly folded from cinnabar paper.

The monkeys danced around Yan Jue gleefully before fading away.

Qi Xianqing looked at her thoughtfully. “Those monkeys… are they your children?”

Yan Jue’s face flushed crimson. “Of course not!”

The Life-Shedding Mustache took the form of whatever the user imagined.

She honestly didn’t know why hers always became monkeys.

Silence fell.

Duan Luxi grabbed Yan Jue’s arm, anxious. “Yan Jue, what’s going on? That paper thing just tried to kill me! Wasn’t that the same Daoist from earlier?
And why does my spiritual energy feel so faint? I tried summoning Osmanthus earlier it wouldn’t respond!”

Yan Jue explained what she had overheard. The more Duan Luxi listened, the paler she became.

Yan Jue asked, “At what cultivation stage can you control a spirit sword?”

Duan Luxi hesitated, but Qi Xianqing answered: “From the first stage the Illumination Realm.”

Yan Jue said, “Then I think I understand.
If the inn’s furnace suppresses power, maybe it only affects those above that stage.
I’m only at the Foundation Realm that’s why I’m fine.”

Everyone fell silent. It sounded unbelievable, but it made sense.

Qi Xianqing walked to the window, gazing out. “I thought something was strange earlier,” she said softly.
“The moon tonight is bright and full yet the stars are too many. When the moon is bright, the stars should be faint.”

Yan Jue looked up as well and realization struck. Back in the courtyard, Qi Xianqing had already been watching the sky. She had thought the girl was simply admiring the moon, but she’d actually noticed the illusion from the start.

Terrifyingly sharp… Yan Jue thought.

Maybe, from the very moment they entered the inn, everything around them had been part of a meticulously crafted illusion.

Qi Xianqing’s eyes narrowed. “I have a theory. But we’ll talk on the way. Let’s move.”

Duan Luxi went to wake Chu Fu.

Their spirit carriage, Hundred Step Cart, had already returned on its own its task complete. Chu Fu, still confused, summoned it, and they all climbed aboard.

The carriage raced away into the night.

As Duan Luxi slowly recounted what had happened, Yan Jue noticed something no matter how long they drove, they never left the bamboo grove.

Round and round, again and again. The moon hung high, bamboo shadows swaying. No matter which way they turned, they always circled back to the inn’s front door.

“Just as I thought,” Qi Xianqing said. “We’re trapped in an illusion.” Her words chilled everyone to the bone.

She took out a small compass. The needle quivered restlessly.

“Du and Jing combined with Kan and Gen…” she murmured.

Yan Jue didn’t understand, but she knew Qi Xianqing was trying to break the formation. The sky was already paling dawn approaching.

For what must have been the hundredth time, the carriage stopped before the inn.

Qi Xianqing raised her hand. “Go back in.”

They entered.

Morning light spilled faintly through the windows as they sat at a table.

Soon, someone came out from the kitchen.

Yan Jue froze.

It was the same scorpion-tailed innkeeper she had killed last night alive and smiling pleasantly as ever.

“Welcome, honored guests!” he said cheerfully, handing them a menu. “What would you like to order?”

Yan Jue’s blood turned to ice.

She looked to Qi Xianqing, who met her gaze and said calmly, “Ignore it. Find the formation gate.”

Every illusion could be broken one simply had to find the weak point, the “gate.”

Based on her earlier calculations, it had to be somewhere nearby.

Yan Jue nodded, and she and Duan Luxi began searching. Chu Fu followed, his face dark.

After a few steps, Duan Luxi’s face went pale; she suddenly clutched the table.
“Senior sister…”

Qi Xianqing hurried over. “What’s wrong?”

“My body feels heavy… I can’t see clearly,” Duan Luxi whispered.

“Sit down,” Qi Xianqing said gravely.

As Yan Jue searched, she heard a faint jingling of bells outside.

A Daoist was walking by, leading five camels, chatting warmly with the innkeeper before strolling away.

It was the same Daoist from last night.

Everything every sound, every movement was repeating itself.