Transmigrated Into A Waste Who Married The Villain. Chapter 60: The One I Love

“Master Uncle, what are you doing? Let me go!” Luo Jinxiao struggled within the barrier, but the golden spiritual energy acted like a solid viscous membrane; not only could she not break free, but it also muffled all external sounds.

Panic surged within her like wildfire. Despite her attempts to use the divine sword, she couldn’t break through the barrier that Qu Weiyin had set up.

It felt as if she had suddenly lost her hearing—she could only see the flickering lights around her, but the sounds were muffled and indistinct.

Qu Chengzhou grew increasingly agitated, launching deadly strikes, while Qu Weiyin appeared to be at a disadvantage, retreating step by step. At that moment, several figures surged forward from the surrounding chaos, positioning themselves beside Qu Weiyin; they were evidently leaders of other sects.

Luo Jinxiao could only clearly recognize the leader of the Baiyue Sect; the others were strangers to her.

Veins bulged on Qu Chengzhou’s forehead as he prepared to leap into the air. The dark energy coalesced into a massive blade that came crashing down. At that moment, the sky changed ominously, pulling in gigantic winds that sent the people facing him reeling backward, including Qu Weiyin.

“Qu family head, he’s too strong! You’ve sustained this for long enough, and you’re at your limit now. It would be wise to retreat and rest!” the leader of the Baiyue Sect shouted amidst the storm and malevolent aura.

Qu Weiyin remained silent, simply shaking her head slightly. With her feet firmly planted, she began murmuring incantations beneath her breath.

Gradually, threads of black energy began to emanate from her, intertwining with the fire and lightning swirling around her.

As fear gripped Luo Jinxiao’s heart, she desperately pounded against the barrier, feeling utterly helpless, longing to fight alongside Qu Weiyin.

Qu Chengzhou was not idle either, letting out three howls. From behind him leaped several figures, whether demons or monsters, all wrapped in swirling black mist, further dividing the group. Those who rushed to help soon found themselves outmatched; some were devoured by the demonic energy and fell to their knees.

Luo Jinxiao could only watch helplessly, feeling as if her heart was being seared. She pounded and tore at the barrier, but it was futile; her own voice echoed back to her, mocking her desperation.

In that moment, she frantically wished she had stronger cultivation. The sense of helplessness felt like a deep abyss, trapping her within. “Master Uncle…” Her cries turned to murmurs, and the wound on her tongue seemed to ooze fresh blood, the metallic taste flooding her mouth and triggering a gag reflex.

The demonic energy surrounding Qu Weiyin grew even more intense. When she lifted her gaze once more, her pupils were a blazing red, her lips stained crimson, and her skirt billowed like a blooming hibiscus flower caught in a storm.

Luo Jinxiao suddenly recalled the last time she had seen Qu Weiyin in her previous life—this was the very visage she remembered, wild and unrestrained, looking down upon the world.

Qu Weiyin turned abruptly, locking eyes with her. A faint smile graced her lips, and she uttered something that Luo Jinxiao could not quite hear.

It was as if everything around her slowed down. When Qu Weiyin looked away again, the transparent barrier before Luo Jinxiao suddenly shimmered with gold, obscuring her vision entirely.

Fear enveloped her like a tight shroud, making her feel as though she might drown in this confining space. She shouted until her throat was hoarse, but the spiritual energy filled the small barrier, and even as she exhausted herself, she couldn’t break through even a small opening.

What felt like an eternity passed before a violent gust of wind swept through, finally shattering the barrier and revealing a glimmer of light that was blindingly bright.

Luo Jinxiao took the chance to sever Qu Weiyin’s spiritual energy with a swift motion. Stumbling out of the barrier, she stood frozen in place.

Before her, Qu Chengzhou stood with a sword embedded in his chest, its red glow illuminating the once-dark skies in a brilliant crimson hue. He silently screamed as his body exploded from the inside out.

A foul stench filled the air, dispersing in all directions, and everyone present rushed to channel their energy to shield themselves from the turbulent winds, which made it nearly impossible to see.

Yet Luo Jinxiao kept her eyes wide open, focusing on the figure floating in mid-air. Qu Weiyin stood there, her gaze reflecting a deep sense of fulfillment, a hint of tranquility crossing her features before she slowly began to descend.

“Master Uncle!” Luo Jinxiao’s voice caught in her throat, almost silent. She dashed a few steps forward, leaping into the air just in time to catch Qu Weiyin around the shoulders.

Her body felt weaker than ever, the crimson hue fading from her eyes, and the brilliant light began to dim.

Suddenly, Luo Jinxiao felt a splitting headache. She hugged Qu Weiyin tightly, crashing down to the ground, and at the same moment, the Crescent Moon Star Sword clanged heavily against the earth.

The sound was deafening.

Qu Weiyin was bleeding continuously, the blood staining her clothing and blending into the crimson fabric. Everything was a blur, yet the sight was painfully vivid. “Master Uncle, don’t sleep,” Luo Jinxiao rasped, struggling to channel all her spiritual energy into Qu Weiyin’s body, but it was utterly ineffective.

Qu Weiyin slowly reached out, grasping Luo Jinxiao’s hand weakly.

She could no longer speak, merely shaking her head gently, tears welling up in her eyes, reflecting the red glow of the sky, shimmering and haunting.

Qu Weiyin released her grip, her gaze filled with an unusual tenderness before gradually fading into darkness.

Luo Jinxiao’s mind went blank; she could scarcely believe this was real and not a fleeting dream. Only moments ago, Qu Weiyin had been conversing with her so normally—how could it come to this?

Qu Weiyin was the demon lord; how could she truly be dead?

Unbeknownst to her, tears streamed down Qu Weiyin’s face, all of them falling from Luo Jinxiao’s eyes. Luo Jinxiao numbly touched her own face, her hand damp with moisture.

It seemed that someone tried to pull her back, but she instinctively swatted them away with a powerful strike.

“Luo Jinxiao, snap out of it!” She heard Lu Fanzhi’s voice, filled with anguish, yet she ignored it completely.

Qu Weiyin’s body grew increasingly cold, her fingertips to her cheeks devoid of any color.

For the first time, Luo Jinxiao truly felt the pain in her heart—it was as though thousands of knives were carving out the flesh from within, the agony causing her to curl inward.

Yet the sobs of those around her reminded her that Qu Weiyin was really gone, the very Qu Weiyin who had always shielded her from harm. The demoness who, in her final moments, still blocked the view to protect her was dead.

Gritting her teeth, Luo Jinxiao summoned her last vestige of spiritual energy to guard Qu Weiyin’s soul and heart, then cradled the woman’s cold body in her arms. Qu Weiyin felt so frail, and as she held her, the hollowness of her embrace pierced her heart.

“I’m sorry,” Luo Jinxiao cried, breathless, with her vision consumed by a sea of crimson.

Finally, a familiar sigh echoed in her ears, and Elder Liu silently appeared behind her, his presence filled with sorrow. At that moment, Luo Jinxiao felt a sharp pain in her neck, and then her consciousness faded away.

She didn’t know how long had passed, but when she opened her eyes again, everything that had just occurred felt like a fleeting dream. Yet, when she touched her face, it remained damp with tears.

Echoes of Qu Weiyin’s fragrance still lingered around her.

Luo Jinxiao sat up abruptly, and when she lifted her gaze, she found herself looking directly into Elder Liu’s eyes.

“Master,” she spoke, her voice still hoarse.

“Drink some water,” Elder Liu said with a look of compassion, offering her a cup of tea.

Luo Jinxiao weakly shook her head, attempting to get off the bed to find Qu Weiyin, but Elder Liu’s hand reached out to stop her.

“Be obedient,” he said, frowning. Only then did Luo Jinxiao accept the cup, bringing it to her lips as ripples formed on the surface of the water.

“You girls just love to cry. If you keep going like this, you’ll end up blind,” Elder Liu sighed, shaking his head. “She and Qu Chengzhou perished together.”

Luo Jinxiao’s hand trembled, spilling some tea and soaking the hem of her skirt.

Setting the cup down, she suddenly knelt before Elder Liu and tugged at his sleeve, her voice choked with emotion. “Master, is there any way to save her? I’ll do anything.”

It was her powerlessness that tormented her. If only she could have… Luo Jinxiao felt as though she could kill herself for failing.

Seeing her like this, Elder Liu sighed deeply and averted his gaze, pulling Luo Jinxiao up. “This was the path she chose for herself; no one can save her. Don’t blame yourself.”

But what could she do if she didn’t blame herself? Qu Chengzhou was dead—she no longer had anyone to hate.

The emptiness she felt was more painful than any other emotion.

“Even if you protect her soul, her physical body is dead, and her soul will eventually dissipate. Please grieve and accept it,” Elder Liu advised, shaking his head. Even a man of his experience, who had witnessed death countless times, felt a pang of heartache seeing his disciple so lost.

Luo Jinxiao hung her head, but suddenly, she dashed out of the door. Lu Fanzhi and Luo Ning, who were guarding the entrance, stumbled as she collided with them.

“Elder Sister, Elder Sister!” Luo Ning cried out behind her, but Luo Jinxiao paid her no mind.

Qu Weiyin’s body lay still in the Cold Cloud Pavilion, resting quietly on the bed, as if she were merely asleep. She looked the same as ever, beautiful and ethereal, yet her lips had lost all color.

Luo Jinxiao stared at her in a daze, approaching to gently touch her cheek and lightly graze her palm.

Suddenly, something slipped from Qu Weiyin’s hand. Luo Jinxiao picked it up, only to find it was the ugly pouch she had gifted her long ago, now stuffed with something bulky.

This trinket that she had even forgotten about, Qu Weiyin had clung to until her last breath.

Suppressing her tears, Luo Jinxiao reached inside and retrieved a piece of Spirit Jade. Upon closer inspection, she noticed shallow cracks on its surface.

Seeing this made Luo Jinxiao unable to contain herself any longer. She buried her face in Qu Weiyin’s palm, sobbing uncontrollably like a child.

It turned out that Qu Weiyin had always held such significance in her heart.

She had never been aware of this until now.

“Who can save you…?” she murmured, raising her head and talking to herself while stroking Qu Weiyin’s arm, her mind a foggy haze.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. She placed the pouch back into Qu Weiyin’s hand, took one last look at her, and abruptly vanished.

South Dipper Peak was the highest mountain for miles, and even halfway up, the trees stood bare and lifeless. At the summit, snow lingered year-round, desolate and inhospitable.

Luo Jinxiao, dressed lightly, felt no chill at all.

She trudged upward, occasionally slipping, snow spraying up to her neck. The sacred grounds had once been guarded, but now, in the chaos of the world, it was completely accessible.

Yet, no matter how hard she searched, she found no one, no trace of life.

Luo Jinxiao’s sweat froze on her body. Sniffling, she suddenly dropped to her knees, remaining still.

The memories from that day were not a dream; the sect leader must still be alive, merely disinterested in the world and its affairs, choosing not to return.

At worst, she thought, she could freeze to death right here.

The biting cold wind soon turned her into a popsicle, and Luo Jinxiao felt frost clinging to her eyebrows. She shivered yet remained motionless, as if she’d become a statue of ice.

Around her lay a blanket of silver frost, a thousand miles encased in ice, and the silence was such that it felt as if she were the only person left in the world.

In her hazy thoughts, she wondered if she froze to death like this, whether she would descend to the afterlife, and the possibility of eventually encountering Qu Weiyin again.

In the vast expanse of snow, a figure appeared, slender and delicate, with silvery hair cascading down to her waist, stirred by the winds that made it flutter.

The woman slowly approached Luo Jinxiao, crouching down as she spoke in a voice that was both incredibly gentle and laced with a sense of detachment and chill.

“Child, what troubles you?”

“I wish… I wish to ask the sect leader to save someone,” Luo Jinxiao fought to hold herself steady, gritting her teeth as she spoke.

The woman was silent for a moment before replying, “I do not save people.”

“I am willing to exchange anything for it, anything at all,” a tear slipped from the corner of Luo Jinxiao’s eye, freezing almost instantly on her cheek. “Please, I beg you.”

“Is it someone you love?” the woman asked again, her voice ethereal and haunting, as if it could float away at any moment.

Luo Jinxiao was momentarily taken aback, then nodded fervently. “Yes.”