Qu WeiYin was surprised but complied. Luo JinXiao waved her hand, and the narrow cave entrance was soon covered in frost, layered with ice until it was sealed tightly. Despite the fire outside burning fiercely and the walls trembling, the cave remained cool. Only the bodies pressed close together were warm.
They were in such close proximity that Luo JinXiao was practically holding Qu WeiYin, her slender waist tightly embraced. The fragrance of one of them lingered in the air, impossible to distinguish whose it was.
Qu WeiYin, now quiet, became acutely aware of her wildly beating heart. Luo JinXiao, being slightly taller, had to slightly tilt her head to see the wall on the opposite side through Luo JinXiao’s shoulder.
Time seemed to stop, and after an indeterminate period, the commotion outside faded. Through the ice-sealed entrance, they could barely make out the massive head of the Zhulong as it retreated.
Both sighed in relief. Qu WeiYin attempted to push Luo JinXiao away but found the cave too narrow; they were already at the maximum distance apart.
“Why did you come back? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Qu WeiYin looked up, her eyes filled with anger.
“It’s a long story. The path I found had many branches. I thought I might find a way to meet up with you, so I tried a few,” Luo JinXiao explained, feeling awkward as her hand was still around Qu WeiYin’s waist. She coughed and quickly stood straight.
Qu WeiYin, still seething, replied coldly, “Can you still go back then?”
Luo JinXiao nodded, smiling, “I left marks. Although this cave is narrow, it’s interconnected, like it was dug out by someone. Could the Divine Tomb have been built by humans?”
Qu WeiYin pushed her aside, “Do you know why the God Clan was exterminated and why the Upper Heaven Realm became ruins?”
She slipped away, distancing herself from Luo JinXiao, “The God Clan fell due to internal strife and mutual slaughter. The Divine Tomb was not built by gods, but by humans.”
“Just like not all cultivators are good, neither are all gods,” Qu WeiYin said indifferently.
Before Luo JinXiao could respond, they heard a commotion outside again. Fearing the Zhulong had returned, she reached for Qu WeiYin, only to have her hand slapped away.
“Little Martial Aunt…” Luo JinXiao mumbled, rubbing her hand.
“Don’t move. There are people outside,” Qu WeiYin frowned, looking towards the ice-sealed entrance. “Are there others who have entered?”
Luo JinXiao heard footsteps and took a few steps forward, tapping the ice to create a fist-sized hole. Through it, she locked eyes with Yan Ying.
“Idiot, your idiot sister is here,” Yan Ying rolled her eyes.
Before Luo JinXiao could process what was happening, Luo Ning rushed over, eagerly asking through the ice, “Sister, I finally found you! Are you hurt?”
“No,” Luo JinXiao shook her head, melting the ice door with a wave. Luo Ning crawled in and hugged her tightly.
“Sister, after I came down, I couldn’t find you anywhere. I thought something happened to you. Thank goodness,” Luo Ning said, her face dark but her eyes and teeth shining brightly.
“Alright, this isn’t a good place,” Qu WeiYin said coldly, watching them, “We should leave quickly.”
With that, she turned and walked down the tunnel. Luo JinXiao hurriedly grabbed Luo Ning to follow.
“What happened? You came down, but why bring her along?” Luo JinXiao asked, nodding towards Yan Ying.
“Mind your manners, trash. If not for this idiot…” Yan Ying glanced at Luo Ning, then looked away, “Risking her life for her sister, I wouldn’t be stuck in this hellhole with you.”
“Are you hurt?” Luo JinXiao suddenly remembered, pulling Luo Ning for a closer look.
“No, but we ran into a big snake that breathed fire. I was almost roasted,” Luo Ning smiled, shaking her head like a drum.
“Big snake?” Yan Ying rolled her eyes harder, slapping her forehead, “That’s a Zhulong.”
Luo Ning ignored her, chatting with Luo JinXiao about their journey, which had been dangerous without Qu WeiYin. They had been chased by giant pythons and barely escaped the enraged Zhulong.
Luo JinXiao listened, her heart pounding with fear.
“We’re here,” Qu WeiYin announced, stepping out into a wide stone path, no longer the dark cave. The passage was straight, with ever-burning lamps hanging at intervals, their flames bright and unwavering.
“After I came down that passage, I ended up on this path,” Luo JinXiao checked her marks.
“Little Martial Aunt Qu, if we follow this, can we get out?” Luo Ning asked hopefully, but Qu WeiYin shook her head.
“Up ahead is the real Divine Tomb. Those with fate can leave, those without, die,” Qu WeiYin said with interest.
“What?” Yan Ying was startled, then gritted her teeth, “Luo Ning, you’re really going to get me killed today!”
“What does it have to do with me? I didn’t ask you to follow,” Luo Ning retorted.
“You!” Yan Ying was speechless, then gave up, “Fine, I brought this on myself.”
Luo JinXiao ignored their bickering, watching Qu WeiYin closely. When she mentioned the Divine Tomb, her eyes widened slightly. Perhaps she was seeking something here?
Luo JinXiao speculated but said nothing, quietly following Qu WeiYin, letting Luo Ning and Yan Ying argue behind her.
The path was short but eerily silent. At the end was a wall that Qu WeiYin touched, and with a flash of gold, it vanished completely.
Luo Ning gasped, and Luo JinXiao looked down to find the previously plain stone path had turned into gleaming white jade. The eerie lamps became bright luminous pearls, lighting the area magnificently.
It had been an illusion; this was the true Divine Tomb.
Before them was a vast hall, its high dome painted with indistinct murals, exuding a sense of solemnity. Everyone walked in, silent and reverent.
Only Qu WeiYin remained composed, familiar with such scenes, heading straight for the center.
The hall was grand but empty, except for a throne-like structure in the center, entirely red and translucent, like carved from gemstone, stark against the white hall.
Luo JinXiao found her gaze trapped by the throne, unable to look away, the red light swirling before her eyes, becoming hazy.
After an unknown time, she snapped out of it, looking around to find herself alone in an eerily silent hall. She frowned, softly calling, “Little Martial Aunt?”
“Luo Ning?”
“Idiot?”
No response.
Luo JinXiao realized she was caught in another illusion, wondering what treasures the Divine Tomb held to warrant such defenses. Cautiously, she moved forward, seeking a way to break the illusion.
Suddenly, she noticed a woman on the previously empty throne. The woman was alluring, sitting barefoot with crossed legs, her skin as pale as the jade floor.
“Luo JinXiao,” the woman spoke, her red lips parting, her voice fragrant. She raised her arms alluringly, eyes filled with allure.
Her red dress cascaded like a blooming flower, and when Luo JinXiao met her gaze, the woman’s eyes were like poppies, beautiful yet dangerous.
Luo JinXiao gasped, realizing it was Qu WeiYin after turning demon.
She couldn’t tell if this was past or present, only that fear enveloped her, inescapable.
Qu WeiYin smiled, stepping down with bare feet, her soft arms propping her up as she stood. Her dress slid down her white skin, trailing behind her.
She approached step by step, carrying a strange fragrance. Luo JinXiao’s scalp tingled, wanting to flee, but her legs refused to move.
The demonized Qu WeiYin was different, bewitching and bold. She reached Luo JinXiao, her cold hands caressing her face.
Her fingertips trembled, then her pale arms draped over Luo JinXiao’s shoulders.
Luo JinXiao was terrified, struggling to regain control of her body, but could only endure Qu WeiYin’s closeness.
“Why don’t you look at me?” Qu WeiYin asked, her voice plaintive, her eyes a mix of grievance and fierceness that made one want to embrace her.
Luo JinXiao suppressed her strange thoughts, her heart pounding, unsure what to do.
Why such a strange illusion? Luo JinXiao lamented inwardly, closing her eyes, praying for it to end.
But the illusionary Qu WeiYin didn’t want it to end. She pressed closer, her arms still draped over Luo JinXiao, and in the chaos, her lips brushed Luo JinXiao’s face.
At that moment, Luo JinXiao felt she might explode on the spot.
Her emotions were confused—shame, fear, and something else.
Her lips were unlike her hands, warm and soft, embodying all things beautiful and sweet.
“Little Martial Aunt…” Luo JinXiao couldn’t help but say.
Just then, the sword Qu WeiYin had given her trembled, emitting a piercing sword cry, awakening Luo JinXiao. She finally moved, pushing the illusionary “Qu WeiYin” away with all her might.
She panted heavily, drenched in sweat, as if waking from a dream.
The “Qu WeiYin” fell to the ground. Luo JinXiao drew her sword, ready to strike, but the “Qu WeiYin” suddenly hugged herself, about to cry.
Her stunningly beautiful face, so pitiful, stirred compassion.
“Don’t kill me.”
“Stay with me,” she pleaded.
Luo JinXiao almost succumbed again, shaking her head to dispel the softness, shouting, “I’ll stay with you, my foot!”
She swung her sword, and the illusion vanished, revealing the hall as it was, with everyone else also caught in illusions.
Yan Ying was hacking at a pillar, cursing, “Stupid idiot, vixen, trash, what makes you so special that she follows you everywhere!”
Luo JinXiao leaned back, sneezing as if sensing she was the one being cursed.
She decided to leave Yan Ying to her illusion a bit longer and went to find Qu WeiYin, but she was nowhere to be seen, prompting Luo JinXiao to rush towards the throne.
Sure enough, Qu WeiYin was kneeling, her shoulders trembling.
Luo JinXiao assumed she was caught in an illusion too and hurriedly approached, touching her shoulder, whispering, “Little Martial Aunt?”
Qu WeiYin didn’t respond, her shoulders still shaking. When Luo JinXiao grabbed her hand, she felt the damp fabric.
She was crying.
The formidable demoness, crying—Luo JinXiao felt a pang of sorrow.
How to pull her from the illusion? Luo JinXiao worried, calling her name again, but got no response.
Finally, she steeled herself, gripping Qu WeiYin’s wrist, yanking her to her feet. Qu WeiYin, unprepared, almost fell.
Luo JinXiao opened her arms, cautiously embracing her.
Both stiffened immediately.
As a child, when Luo JinXiao cried, she longed for a hug but never got one. Now, she hoped it might help.
In her arms, Qu WeiYin gradually calmed, no longer trembling or crying, her arms hanging limply.
“Little Martial Aunt, hold on, I’ll find a way to break the illusion,” Luo JinXiao said, channeling her power, silver energy gathering in her hands.
“When did I say such a weak illusion could trap me?” Qu WeiYin’s calm voice broke in, scattering Luo JinXiao’s energy. She instinctively jumped back.
Embarrassed heat enveloped her.
Qu WeiYin’s face remained calm, but tear stains betrayed her. She had indeed been in an illusion but had broken free.
“Little Martial Aunt…” Luo JinXiao hesitated.
“It’s nothing, just memories of family and past events,” Qu WeiYin said flatly, examining Luo JinXiao before turning to the throne.
Behind her, Luo JinXiao stomped in regret, embarrassed by her oversight.
What she didn’t see was Qu WeiYin’s face turning pale as she turned away, her hand resting over her heart, which was pounding wildly.
Her gaze unfocused, she exhaled, trying to steady herself, perhaps savoring the recent tender embrace.
“Careful, Sister!” Luo Ning’s sudden cry snapped her back. Luo JinXiao dodged just as Qu WeiYin’s Crescent Moon Star Sword pierced several charging pythons, pinning them to the wall.
A python’s tail hit Yan Ying, waking her from her illusion and knocking her down.
Behind the pythons came the Zhulong, its massive head squeezing through the door, roaring, unleashing a foul wind like a tidal wave. Luo JinXiao raised an ice barrier to shield them all.
Luo Ning rushed to help, and together they held back the raging Zhulong.
Yan Ying, now fully awake, cursed as she stood beside Luo Ning, her peacock launching towards the Zhulong’s eyes.
While one side fought, the other was eerily calm. Qu WeiYin, frowning, watched the Zhulong, then the throne.
Her right hand clenched, as if locked in an internal struggle.
If she took it, she could avenge herself, end everything.
She needed power, the strength of her past life.
As for that child… Qu WeiYin glanced at Luo JinXiao, standing firm, her clothes fluttering, hair flying, her skin glowing under the Zhulong’s light, lips vibrant.
Utterly foolish.
Qu WeiYin decided, turning towards the throne just as Luo Ning shouted in terror. The Zhulong, unable to break through, began spewing fire everywhere, threatening to destroy all.
Luo JinXiao struggled to hold on, her power flaring, freezing the palace against the flames.
Qu WeiYin’s eyes widened in surprise at Luo JinXiao’s unexpected strength.
But a human couldn’t outmatch a divine beast, especially a demonized Zhulong. Its miasma eroded the area, and Luo Ning collapsed, exhausted. Yan Ying rushed to her side, leaving Luo JinXiao alone.
Frustrated, Qu WeiYin moved forward, shielding Luo JinXiao. Her sword glowed golden, attacking the Zhulong’s head. As the peacock cried, the Zhulong screamed, blood gushing from a sun-like eye, splattering Qu WeiYin.
Unmoving, she chanted, her Crescent Moon Star Sword expanding, hovering above like a small boat, buzzing.
The Zhulong, enraged, charged into the hall, its massive tail coiling behind, smashing through. Yan Ying dragged Luo Ning behind a pillar, the latter trying to reach Luo JinXiao, only to be shoved aside by Yan Ying: “Idiot, are you insane!”
“But my sister…”
“She has Little Martial Aunt Qu, she doesn’t need you!” Yan Ying snapped.
Meanwhile, Luo JinXiao and Qu WeiYin stood together, blocking the Zhulong’s fire, seeking a chance to strike, but the Zhulong was too large.
A dragon’s tail swing nearly knocked Luo JinXiao over. Qu WeiYin pushed her aside, sending her stumbling onto the ruby-like throne.
Her hand cut, blood mingling with the red gem.
Before she could rise, the throne quaked, and then vanished, leaving her prone before a white jade floor, a sword embedded in it.
The sword was gentle, not sharp, seemingly crafted from jade, lacking even a blade.
Suddenly, silence enveloped her, hearing only her breath. Her gaze locked on the sword, an illusion unfolded—snow, a blood-soaked sword absorbing the blood, leaving only white flakes.
Isolated, powerful.
The illusion vanished, sound returned, and Luo JinXiao found the sword in her hand.
It felt natural, instinctive.
She turned to see Qu WeiYin still fighting, her sword unfazed by the chaos, growing cold.
Luo JinXiao waved her hand, a white light shot from the sword, striking the Zhulong, leaving a deep frostbitten wound.
The Zhulong howled, thrashing violently. Luo JinXiao marveled at the sword’s power, leaping to strike. The sword transformed into a blade, slicing through the Zhulong like butter, severing it.
The Zhulong writhed, Qu WeiYin glanced at Luo JinXiao, surprised, then at the sword, clenching her fists.
“Crescent Moon Star,” she muttered, her sword striking the Zhulong’s head, the creature collapsing with a final roar, turning to stone.
Luo JinXiao finally breathed, sitting down, admiring the sword. Could this be Qu WeiYin’s sought-after artifact?
She looked at Qu WeiYin to speak but met a cold, murderous gaze.
Luo JinXiao recoiled, fearing Qu WeiYin’s ire over the sword.
She tried to explain, but Qu WeiYin was already striding over, hoisting her by the collar, eyes blazing.
“Little Martial Aunt, I didn’t…” Luo JinXiao began, but Qu WeiYin cut her off.
“How did you bond with it?” Qu WeiYin demanded.
“I didn’t,” Luo JinXiao stammered, glancing at the ordinary-looking sword, shaking her head.
“This ancient artifact can’t be wielded without a bond,” Qu WeiYin growled, ready to end Luo JinXiao.
To break the bond, one must die.
Qu WeiYin’s grip tightened, her eyes darkening.
Sensing the danger, Luo JinXiao turned away, avoiding Qu WeiYin’s gaze.
“Little Martial Aunt Qu!” Luo Ning, sensing trouble, rushed forward, only to be bound by Qu WeiYin’s magic.
Murderous intent thickened, the sword’s tip at Luo JinXiao’s throat. Desperate, she whispered, “Little Martial Aunt…”
She didn’t resist, didn’t move, just called her name.
Qu WeiYin hesitated, loosening her grip, staring at Luo JinXiao, whose heart raced with fear and something else.
After a long pause, Qu WeiYin released her, her sword returning to its sheath.
Luo JinXiao steadied herself, clutching her chest, relieved at the close call.
But this time, she wasn’t as scared.
“Take your sword. Let’s go,” Qu WeiYin ordered, turning to the spot where the sword had been, her form fading. Luo JinXiao, just catching her breath, hurried after, pulling along the bound Luo Ning and Yan Ying.
“Sister, what happened with Little Martial Aunt Qu? She was terrifying,” Luo Ning whispered.
Luo JinXiao shook her head, dismissing, “Maybe she’s just getting old and cranky.”
Back in the forest, Chang SiYu and the others circled, spotting Qu WeiYin and rushing over.
“Little Martial Aunt Qu! Thank goodness, we were so worried. We sent word to the elders for help, thank heavens!” Chang SiYu seemed genuinely relieved.
Then he saw Luo JinXiao and his smile faded, “Ah, she’s alive too.”
Luo JinXiao rolled her eyes.
No need to be so obvious.
“Tell them not to come. Check if anyone’s missing,” Qu WeiYin instructed, looking displeased.
Chang SiYu, assuming she was tired, nodded merrily. Lu FanZhi rushed to Luo JinXiao, hugging her tightly, sobbing, “JinXiao, I was so scared. I thought you were dead. This place is dangerous. Are you hurt?”
She inspected Luo JinXiao, her expression souring at Yan Ying, “Ah, she’s alive too.”
“What do you mean!” Yan Ying retorted, rolling up her sleeves.
“Enough,” Luo JinXiao sighed, pulling Lu FanZhi away, “We’re fine. What about you, any danger?”
Lu FanZhi shook her head, but Chang SiYu approached Qu WeiYin seriously, “Little Martial Aunt Qu, one is missing, a new disciple named Wei ZiRan. No word from the sect about him. Shall we search?”
“No need,” Qu WeiYin shook her head, “He’s not here. Next time, verify identities thoroughly.”
Chang SiYu nodded, puzzled.
“Let’s go, it’s not safe here. Return to WuHui Sect,” Qu WeiYin said, leading the way.
The journey back lacked the earlier cheer. Exhausted, everyone dozed on the QingLuan’s back.
Luo JinXiao, though tired, couldn’t sleep, weighed down by thoughts, sitting alone at the bird’s tail, gazing into the distance.
It was midnight, the sky vast, stars scattered like diamonds. A river of stars flowed, white egrets taking flight.
A full moon hung behind her like a silver plate, making her seem smaller.
She looked at the sword, unable to discern its uniqueness. Though it empowered her, she felt guilty for taking what Qu WeiYin sought.
And the illusion in the Divine Tomb still made her blush.
Why such an illusion? She pinched herself, stopping the thoughts.
A pinch conjured a figure, a red skirt beside her, sitting cross-legged.
A faint floral scent reminded her of the illusion’s fragrance. She shifted away.
“What, afraid of me?” Qu WeiYin asked coldly.
Luo JinXiao dared not respond, shaking her head.
“Stubborn,” Qu WeiYin scoffed, producing a wine jug, drinking as a drop trickled down. Luo JinXiao’s throat went dry, looking away.
She was definitely bewitched by the illusion.
Calm, indifferent to beauty, is the way, she reminded herself.
“Little Martial Aunt, this sword, is there a way to give it to you?” Luo JinXiao asked quietly, feeling guilty for having it.
“Except for my life,” she added.
Qu WeiYin looked surprised, then laughed, “You’re really foolish.”
“No need, the sword chooses its master. It chose you,” Qu WeiYin sighed, drinking more.
Luo JinXiao smiled, scratching her head, recalling something, “Little Martial Aunt, I tried YiXin Jue recently, it’s useful. Watch.”
Before Qu WeiYin could reply, she murmured a spell, silver energy touching Qu WeiYin, cleansing the blood from killing the Zhulong.
Qu WeiYin glanced at herself, “Why do you study such odd things?”
“I read about it, it’s interesting,” Luo JinXiao grinned.
They sat a while longer, Qu WeiYin finishing her wine, setting the jug aside.
“Little Martial Aunt, I have another trick,” Luo JinXiao said, enjoying herself, winking at Qu WeiYin, muttering before pointing at the jug.
“Try it.”
Qu WeiYin, intrigued, picked it up, finding it full again.
She sipped, smiling, “It’s fragrant, what is it?”
“My master’s cellar wine. He never lets me touch it, so I sneaked in and found a way to take it without entering,” Luo JinXiao laughed.
“Master Liu’s wine, he never shares. Impressive,” Qu WeiYin noted, seeming pleased, drinking more.
“Little Martial Aunt, may I ask something?” Luo JinXiao said.
“Ask,” Qu WeiYin answered curtly.
“Does the illusion signify anything?” Luo JinXiao asked nervously.
“Not sure,” Qu WeiYin shrugged, “It reflects inner fears, desires, nothing new.”
Luo JinXiao nodded, confused. Her vision couldn’t be desire, nor fear.
“Why ask, what did you see?” Qu WeiYin suddenly looked at her.
Their eyes met, and the illusion’s scenes replayed in Luo JinXiao’s mind, making her turn away, feeling hot.
“Was it something frightening?” Qu WeiYin seemed concerned, knowing illusions could trap people forever.
“No,” Luo JinXiao shook her head.
“The future? Or desire?”
Luo JinXiao shook her head vigorously, scared.
“Then what?” Qu WeiYin frowned, impatient.
“Nothing, just weird things. I need a nap,” Luo JinXiao said, trying to leave, but Qu WeiYin grabbed her, pulling her back.
“Little Martial…”
“Enough talk,” Qu WeiYin scolded, pinning her to the bird’s tail. “Do you know how dangerous illusions can be? The Divine Tomb holds more than one sword. If not checked, it’ll be trouble.”
“Will others know about my sword?” Luo JinXiao quickly changed the topic.
Qu WeiYin, reminded, nodded, “Don’t mention it. Just say it’s a summoned spirit weapon.”
“Thank you, Little Martial Aunt,” Luo JinXiao smiled, trying to sneak away, but Qu WeiYin pulled her back.
“Behave, don’t change the subject,” Qu WeiYin insisted, holding her with one knee, sending golden energy into Luo JinXiao’s mind.
White feet on white ground, a red skirt trailing, tracing a graceful arc.
A seductive figure leaned on a young girl, soft hands caressing.
Red lips whispered, drawing closer, warm and soft, light-colored eyes…
Qu WeiYin’s eyes widened, pushing Luo JinXiao away, standing shakily, shocked.
“Little Martial Aunt, let me explain, I don’t know…” Luo JinXiao stammered, approaching, but Qu WeiYin backed away.
Her voice trembled, “Stay back!”
Her mind was in chaos, her face flushed, unable to look up.
Qu WeiYin, former demon lord, now…
Luo JinXiao tried to speak, but Qu WeiYin whispered, “Go,” vanishing into the air.
Luo JinXiao covered her face, despairing. She had truly angered the demoness.
Surely now, her days were numbered…
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