Transmigrated Into A Waste Who Married The Villain. Chapter 109: Don’t Be Afraid

The room was filled with a heavy silence that stretched on for what felt like an eternity before the sect leader finally broke the stillness.

“What kind of joke is this?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“This is no joke,” Luo Jinxiao replied, raising her gaze to meet the sect leader’s eyes. Her dark pupils blinked away the moisture, filled now with determination. “If it were, why would he have said those words?”

Her gaze swept across the faces opposite her, each wearing an expression of deep concern. Suddenly, she broke into a smile. “Alright, let’s just treat this as a jest. Perhaps this so-called catastrophe is nothing more than an unprecedented downpour, and everything will return to normal by tomorrow.”

Everyone could feel the dissipating spiritual energy in the air, and they all understood that this was no ordinary rain.

Yet, no one spoke further.

“She’s still waiting for me; I need to go back and be with her,” Luo Jinxiao said as she stood up and headed for the door, but the sect leader stopped her.

“Are you going to tell her?” the sect leader asked.

Luo Jinxiao paused in the rain-soaked night, her slender silhouette silhouetted against the darkness. She stood still for a moment, then shook her head before vanishing into the curtain of rain.

Luo Ning swayed slightly, collapsing into a chair, and Yanying hurriedly crouched down beside her, grasping her hands with worry as she looked up.

“Why am I so useless? I have half the blood of the divine race, yet I possess almost no divine power. I can’t help with anything,” she lamented.

“I’m the real failure,” she murmured.

“You’ve already done so much. You brought her back all on your own and found a way for her to regain her divine form. You’ve endured enough,” Yanying said, trying to soften her tone in comfort.

“I thought I had done enough, but I went through all of that just to bring my sister back, only to send her to her death?” Luo Ning buried her head in her knees.

Her shoulders trembled as she cried.

She hadn’t anticipated that after everything, her sister and Qu Weiyin would be denied the peace they so desperately sought.

“Why is it like this? What wrong have they done? What wrong have living beings done? Why won’t the heavens let us be?” she gritted her teeth, anger flashing in her eyes. “Why don’t they ever consider the good and evil of the world? Why is there so much confusion about right and wrong?”

Yanying had long since lost track of how to respond. Her own tears streamed down her cheeks as she embraced Luo Ning, looking up at the pitch-black sky and silently pleading for mercy.

In moments like this, when desperation ruled, there was little else to do but plead.

The sect leader averted her gaze and moved to the entrance, quietly observing the night sky filled with rain, her hands gripping her sleeves tightly.

The upper mountains remained calm, while below, chaos had already erupted. Wuzhong City was submerged, and the heavy rain gradually spread across the land, showing no signs of stopping.

Fields that were nearly ready for harvest were washed away, rivers surged dangerously, and landslides cascaded down, flooding towns and causing homes to collapse.

The punishment brought forth by the heavens was retributive and devastating, indifferent to age and virtue, treating everyone alike as mere insects, with no distinction.

In the ensuing chaos, the celestial sects finally turned their focus away from eradicating the demon race and eliminating dissenters and instead rushed to aid the common folk, attempting to cease the downpour.

Yet, under the ravages inflicted by the heavenly laws, even the once-mighty celestial sects stood powerless.

Luo Jinxiao walked through the torrential rain, feeling the penetrating chill envelop her. Her mind was blank, flooded with chaotic thoughts and flashes of images, replaying her entire life in an instant.

The most profound memories were those shared with Qu Weiyin.

She had died twice before but hadn’t felt much reluctance at those times, likely because there had been nothing or no one to hold her back.

But this time, the reluctance felt as though it could shatter her entire being.

Neither she nor Qu Weiyin seemed to change the fates they were meant to have. Yet, they had encountered one another, thus altering their destiny; at the very least, it brought them a sense of warmth.

With that thought, she quickened her pace.

Upon returning to the Han Yun Pavilion, Luo Jinxiao found herself already dry. The flickering candlelight cast a hazy glow, and the figure on the bed rose and fell gently with each breath, appearing to be deeply asleep.

Luo Jinxiao approached and sat down, carefully studying Qu Weiyin’s face.

Suddenly, she understood Qu Weiyin’s previous thoughts—why she would choose to face death but remain silent about it.

If Qu Weiyin had spoken up, she would have certainly insisted on going with her, but she didn’t want that.

Yet, if she chose not to say anything, what would happen to Qu Weiyin after her death? How could she endure the dull and endless world alone? No matter how one looked at it, it was an incredibly cruel fate.

As Luo Jinxiao gazed at her, her vision suddenly blurred, and hot tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking into Qu Weiyin’s clothing.

Unable to restrain herself any longer, she rolled onto the bed and tightly embraced Qu Weiyin’s waist, burying her face in the crook of Qu Weiyin’s neck.

Only the scent of Qu Weiyin’s body could provide her with some semblance of comfort.

After an indeterminate amount of time, a soft hand slowly moved, resting on Luo Jinxiao’s back, gently patting her—a gentle rhythm, once, twice.

Qu Weiyin had awoken at some point, but she said nothing. Instead, she held Luo Jinxiao close, gradually soothing her as Luo Jinxiao’s tears stained her garments, leaving them in disarray.

Outside, the sound of thunder grew more frequent, and the rushing water battered against the rocky walls, creating a continuous cascading sound.

In a soft voice, Qu Weiyin said, “I know everything.”

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

The rain continued for three straight days before finally beginning to subside. The disciples of the Wuhui Sect, equipped with the Water Absorption Technique, rushed to Wuzhong City to help rescue the civilians from the floodwaters.

Many low-lying areas had become uninhabitable, forcing the evacuees to be relocated to higher ground, prioritizing their safety. However, some were reluctant to leave their belongings behind and refused to abandon their homes, even if it meant risking their lives.

Luo Jinxiao soared down the street on her sword, rescuing those unable to move by hoisting them onto Qiongqi’s back, ferrying them back to the Wuhui Sect.

After busying herself for half a day, she looked back to see Qu Weiyin squatting down in the mud, gently petting a wet little black dog.

The little dog wagged its tail, splattering Qu Weiyin with water, before playfully sticking out its pink tongue to lick her palm happily.

Qu Weiyin smiled with delight as she lifted the little black dog, seemingly unbothered by the mud staining her clothes.

A muddy child came running from a distance, looking to be no more than seven or eight years old. Upon spotting Qu Weiyin, his footsteps slowed, and he instinctively started to retreat.

Qu Weiyin instinctively tried to hide her fiery-red eyes, but it was clearly futile. Instead, she extended her hand, offering the little black dog to him, carefully asking, “Is this yours?”

The child nodded shyly.

Qu Weiyin felt a bit at a loss; she fished out a piece of candy from somewhere and handed it to him along with the black dog.

The child hesitated for a moment but then dared to take it. He looked at Qu Weiyin and said, “Thank you, sister,” before turning and running off.

As his figure disappeared from sight, Qu Weiyin stood rooted in place, her eyes reflecting her happiness.

Luo Jinxiao jumped down from Wujie, approaching her and standing by her side.

“Jinxiao, how wonderful it would be if I were no longer feared by others,” Qu Weiyin said suddenly.

A fragmented pain spread through Luo Jinxiao’s heart. She took Qu Weiyin’s hand in hers, reassuring her with a simple, “It will.”

“What if our story turns into a legendary tale? Then people will only remember our romance and forget that I was the Demon Lord,” Luo Jinxiao chuckled.

“You’re so glib,” Qu Weiyin shook her head, smiling as she began to walk toward the Wuhui Sect.

“That’s a great idea! But where would you get so much money?” Qu Weiyin teased playfully.

“Ah, well, everything that’s yours is mine, so I won’t lack for it,” Luo Jinxiao replied, stroking her chin with a smile.

“Pfft.”

The Wuhui Sect was currently bustling with activity all around, while Luo Jinxiao and Qu Weiyin found themselves feeling somewhat idle, unable to contribute. The two wandered about hand in hand, occasionally drawing curious glances from passing disciples.

Some familiar faces would smile brightly at them, pointing at their interlocked hands and laughing before quickly running away.

“Jinxiao,” Qu Weiyin said, trying to pull away, but Luo Jinxiao held on tightly, refusing to let go. After a moment, Qu Weiyin resigned herself to it, turning her face away to avoid any further annoyance.

Because they invoked the Water Absorption Technique, the rainwater couldn’t touch them, streaming off their garments instead.

“Jinxiao, the weather seems to be improving now. Do you think there will be any disasters?” Qu Weiyin looked up and asked.

Drizzling droplets fell from the gray-white sky, and after a long gaze, one could almost feel as if they were traversing between heaven and earth.

Luo Jinxiao shook her head; she wasn’t sure herself.

“You still haven’t told me how you knew all this before,” she pressed on, curious.

“I see right through your little schemes,” Qu Weiyin retorted dismissively.

Suddenly, she seized Luo Jinxiao’s hand and bit down hard on her wrist. Luo Jinxiao gasped in pain, tears welling up in her eyes.

“What on earth are you doing?” she exclaimed, trying to pull her hand back, feeling wronged.

Qu Weiyin lowered her gaze; noticing the distinct bite mark, she took another bite for good measure, then released her hand, satisfied.

“I left a mark; it’s said that once you descend to the underworld, you might forget the people before you. When I see the marks I’ve left, and you see my bite, we’ll remember each other,” she explained.

Luo Jinxiao rubbed her wrist, looking up with a smile. “You really do think of everything.”

“You must come find me; if you don’t arrive, I’ll keep waiting, no matter how many ghostly messengers pull at me—I won’t let go. Remember that,” Qu Weiyin said, her tone somewhat stern, but her eyes were red.

“Just don’t make me wait too long.”

“Jinxiao! Jinxiao! A number of celestial beings just arrived, and several sect leaders are here too. The sect leader is calling for you!” Lu Fanzhi shouted as she ran over from a distance, her voice rising.

Qu Weiyin quickly wiped away her tears.

“Celestial beings? What are these useless folks doing here at the Wuhui Sect in the middle of such a disaster instead of helping with the relief efforts?” Luo Jinxiao frowned.

“I don’t know either, but they all look so aggressive, as if they have malicious intent,” Lu Fanzhi replied, pouting. “The sect leader looks positively pale; it’s probably related to Little Master Uncle Qu.”

Hearing this, an instinctive anger began to swirl around Luo Jinxiao.

“I’m not going,” Qu Weiyin declared.

“How can you not? You have to show yourself openly. Anyway, my time is running out, so I’m not afraid of anything,” Luo Jinxiao asserted, summoning Wujie and grabbing Qu Weiyin’s hand. Dressed in her blue robes, she strode confidently toward the Wuhui Palace.

Just as Lu Fanzhi had said, the sect leader, who usually had a snow-white complexion, now bore a hint of ashen gray. Her eyes were narrow and piercing, one delicate hand half-covering her face as she attempted to mask her expression.

The disciples of the Wuhui Sect stood on either side, glaring fiercely at the celestial beings.

As soon as Luo Jinxiao and Qu Weiyin appeared at the entrance, the hall erupted into noise. Luo Jinxiao spotted the middle-aged man who had been their leader on that previous event; he was accompanied by formidable allies and several familiar sect leaders.

The head of the Death Sect was wrapped in dark fur, his gaunt face marked by a gloomy expression, making him particularly conspicuous.

Luo Jinxiao returned his glare; her relationship with his sect was already one of enmity.

“Sect Leader, look! We haven’t lied. As the leading sect, the Wuhui Sect is now harboring a demonic creature. We request the sect leader to hand this demoness over to us for sacrifice to the heavens, to seek blessings from the divine,” the middle-aged man proclaimed.

“Indeed, Sect Leader. With the incessant rains and the calamity befalling the land, the dissipation of spiritual energy must surely be linked to this demoness,” several voices chimed in from below.

The sect leader lowered her hand and lifted her gaze, scanning them with a steely look. The weight of her presence sunk the entire assembly into a sudden silence.

“Gui Jiu, please bring them in,” the sect leader commanded.

Gui Jiu, standing guard at the entrance, stepped forward and quietly leaned in to Luo Jinxiao, whispering, “Go ahead; it’s nothing to worry about.”

Luo Jinxiao held Qu Weiyin’s hand tightly, striding confidently through the crowd without sparing a glance at anyone, as if they were no more than bundles of straw.

The piercing gazes bore into her, but she felt nothing.

“What do you mean by this? At a time like this, do you still wish to protect this demon?” The head of the Death Sect suddenly raised his voice, questioning them.

The sect leader disregarded him, simply saying, “Jinxiao, Qu Weiyin, come a bit closer.”

Luo Jinxiao felt puzzled by her intentions. After exchanging a glance with Qu Weiyin, they complied and stepped forward, moving beside the sect leader.

The murmur of confused voices below grew louder, and some disciples attempted to move forward, only to be barred by the disciples of the Wuhui Sect.

The sect leader straightened in her seat, her ethereal voice echoing throughout the hall. “Gui Jiu, close the doors and keep guard. Not a single one of them is to be let out.”