Sis, You’ve Been Played!

Wuji Buddhist Sect?

Lin Qianshuang remembered: Mu Weiyin had told her to stay at the inn outside the Mahayana Buddhist Temple of the Wuji Buddhist Sect. She must have foreseen that a situation like this could unfold.

If she could abandon Tianshu City and come here, then the city… was probably prepared, right?

“The barrier seal inside Tianshu City won’t hold much longer. After you meet the Lord of the Demon Realm, take Xiaochi back immediately; I, the City Lord, will retrieve something and follow.”

Listening to Mu Weiyin, then looking at that unruffled face, Lin Qianshuang felt as though she’d seen a ghost.

Does everyone who cultivates the Emotionless Path wear this coffin mask? She’s absurdly calm. The protective barrier of Tianshu City is the passageway from the various cultivation realms to the mortal world; once it shatters, the defenseless commoners sheltering under the sects will be like fish trapped in a pond, ready for the slaughter. Yet Mu Weiyin speaks of it as casually as remarking that the weather is nice.

Mu Weiyin watched in puzzlement as Lin Qianshuang stared at her face; in her memory this was the first time the woman had ever been so rude. Before, whenever they spoke, Qianshuang would unconsciously lower her head and avoid her gaze.

Had she decided to take her advice after all?

Mu Weiyin’s dark eyes fluttered. She shifted a few steps and quietly drew closer, tentatively brushing Qianshuang’s fingertips with her own, then tilted her iceberg-cold face in silent question.

Qianshuang, still dazed by that stare, wondered: the City Lord was right beside her, looking at her like this, did that mean another round of spirit cultivation?

She stepped up to Mu Weiyin, rolled back her sleeve to bare a small stretch of forearm, and offered it, implying Mu Weiyin could drink a little blood. Her blood was precious, and with the situation so grave, the last thing they had time for was spirit cultivation.

Mu Weiyin’s silver-gray lashes trembled softly; a spark lit within her misty eyes. Gently she lifted Qianshuang’s wrist, lowered her head, and reverently pressed a faint kiss to the back of her hand.

Lin Qianshuang’s face was a knot of question marks as Mu Weiyin tucked her hand into a slightly warm palm.

“Then it’s settled.”

Mu Weiyin threaded their fingers together, gave a light squeeze, then, still expressionless, pressed Qianshuang’s cheek to her shoulder. She rubbed the top of Qianshuang’s head, the faintest curve on her lips, and said, “Deal struck. Help this City Lord obtain the Glazed Temple Gem.”

Qianshuang’s head was pinned to the woman’s shoulder; a subtle fragrance drifted from Mu Weiyin’s robes. She reached up, pulled the arm off her head, and protested, “What deal? I-”

The word “disagree” never left her mouth; Mu Weiyin’s palm covered it. The next sentence made Qianshuang’s eyes fly open and her face burn scarlet.

“I know you don’t trust me.”

Mu Weiyin’s words rang out, clear and resolute; her eyes locked on Qianshuang without flinching, and the naked earnestness in them left Qianshuang flustered.

“I will give everything I have. With all I’ve learned in this life, I will study how to love a person.”

“……” Lin Qianshuang’s mouth was still covered; she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. City Lord Mu, do you think romance is a lecture hall? You even need to “master” it with a lifetime of coursework?

[Ding-dong. Target rescue figure Mu Weiyin has issued a hidden mission to the host; the host has voluntarily accepted the mission!]

Mu Weiyin’s portrait popped up in the Favorability panel. Beneath the Tianshu Mirror quest bar, a new side quest appeared, [Love from a Hundred Years Ago], its progress already at thirty percent.

Lin Qianshuang felt a knot of frustration tighten in her chest. If she hadn’t stretched out that hand just now, she wouldn’t have created this colossal misunderstanding and been dragged onto this mountain of bandits.¹

Even the quest title that had popped up sounded off. [Love from a Hundred Years Ago] Could it really mean…?

A hunch surfaced in Lin Qianshuang’s mind; she had read so many melodramatic stories about past and present lives that the trope was almost second nature.

Last time, under Mu Xiaochi’s clue, she’d learned the City Lord carried an aching “lovesick bean” buried deep in her heart. By her own guess, the jumble of divine-beast blood in her veins, or maybe that magic core the Canglan Beast had left her, must tie into Mu Weiyin’s bygone life.

The thought of this conscience-niggling side quest made Lin Qianshuang wince. With a flick of her hand she brushed the favorability panel aside.

Delay it as long as possible; maybe once the Tianshu Mirror mainline finished this branch would simply vanish.

Mu Weiyin tapped her ring, and the Soul-Containing Lamp and Sword Ruins returned to her storage space. Seeing Lin Qianshuang rooted in place, she asked, “What’s wrong? Feeling unwell?”

Apparently deciding the gesture had not been thoughtful enough, Mu Weiyin stepped even closer and reached for her spiritual pulse.

Lin Qianshuang hurriedly waved both hands and backed away, every hair on her body seeming to bristle. She forced an awkward laugh. “City Lord, I was simply daydreaming; nothing hurts.”

“No more ‘City Lord.’ Ah Yin. Call me Ah Yin from now on. Remember that.”

Mu Weiyin studied her for a moment, then swept her sleeves and walked out of the Sword Ruins.

Lin Qianshuang watched the departing figure. The strings of the Cold Cicada Zither quivered as chaotically as her own heartstrings.

How should she face Ah Yin? Reject her, or yield to the quest? Tethered by the system, she hesitated, a heavy lump lodged in her chest.

Mu Xiaochi was perched on a rock, trailing a peach branch in the river to tease the koi. When she saw Mu Weiyin and Lin Qianshuang emerge from the Sword Ruins, she bounced over, grabbed Mu Weiyin’s arm and chirped, “Sister, the little fish was so fast, but I still caught one!”

The red carp flopped in her palm, gradually losing strength and on the verge of death.

Mu Xiaochi’s sparkling eyes dimmed; her small face fell. She looked up at Lin Qianshuang. “Why isn’t it moving, pretty sister? I only wanted to play with it.”

“Xiaochi, hand it to me.”

Lin Qianshuang sat beside her, cupped the carp, and set it back into the rippling green current. The moment the lifeless body touched water its tail flicked; it circled once and darted away.

“When it lies still, it means land is no place for it. Out of its element, it brings death upon itself.”

Mu Weiyin had slipped onto the rock on Xiaochi’s other side at some point. She lifted a stick of candied haws to the child’s lips, her voice flat.

Xiaochi’s eyes lit up; she snatched the haw and her gloom melted away. She bounced forward and hugged Weiyin. “Sister, you’re the best! Xiaochi loves you most!”

Weiyin gave a soft “Mn,” glanced at the girl who was already almost as tall as she was, and allowed the smallest curve of her lips before pressing them sternly together. She smoothed Xiaochi’s tousled hair and slid in the new flower hairpin she had just bought.

A face that never changes makes it impossible for anyone to see the kindness underneath.

Lin Qianshuang folded her arms and edged away, giving the sisters their moment.

Watching Weiyin’s taut expression, Qianshuang would have thought her scolding the child if not for Xiaochi’s sweet, happy laugh.

A yellow talisman wreathed in scarlet flame hovered in front of Mu Weiyin. She pinched it, and the message flashed straight into her Sea of Consciousness.

Weiyin frowned, rose from the rock, and gave Xiaochi a reassuring pat.

“Watch the child. We have to reach Anhe Town outside the city. A demon cultivator is holding a hundred and twenty Penglai Immortal Sect disciples hostage and demanding we show ourselves.”

“We?”

Lin Qianshuang plucked the talisman from Weiyin’s fingers and scanned it with her spiritual sense, baffled. She could not recall ever offending a female demon cultivator, yet the woman had named both her and Weiyin.

Mu Weiyin, Lord of Tianshu City, possessed unfathomable cultivation and a status so lofty that no one had dared provoke her in a century. Where had this unknown demon cultivator found the gall to challenge the final boss on her very first outing?

At the words “Penglai Immortal Sect,” Lin Qianshuang’s face tightened. “Is my junior sister Xiao among them?” she pressed.

Mu Weiyin kept walking. “Only that message has arrived; we don’t know yet.”

The corner of Qianshuang’s mouth twitched. Liang Jingxuan again? Penning a hundred-plus Penglai disciples in Anhe Town just to embarrass the sect leader?

A tiny hand tugged her hair. She turned; Mu Xiaochi was stroking her brows as if to smooth them flat.

“Pretty sister, don’t worry. Xiaochi will protect you, hee-hee.”

The child’s goofy grin made Qianshuang laugh; she pinched the little cheek. “Stay right beside me, not one step away. It’s dangerous, understand?”

Mu Xiaochi gazed up at Lin Qianshuang in innocent bewilderment, nestling obediently against her arm and nodding.

Mu Weiyin halted, tipping her head just enough to watch the pair. Her silver lashes lowered, a soft ripple spread across her eyes, and a gentle smile slowly brimmed.

Pinghe Town.

Trash carpeted the lanes. A cracked rouge pot lay in shards; beside it a pair of embroidered shoes paused. A stunning demon cultivator stooped, retrieved the least broken piece, and playfully dabbed the color onto her pale lips. Rising, she let her robe swing wide, baring long legs, while she swept midnight hair aside to flaunt her waistline, flaunting her allure as though performing for some distant voyeur.

Shutters were barred. Townsfolk crouched low, stealing fearful glances; vendors trembled beneath their stalls, not daring even to croak a protest.

The woman perched atop a mansion’s stone lion, legs crossed, and cracked her whip at the hidden onlookers. “Keep staring and I’ll scoop those eyes right out.”

The mortals who had been peeking shrank into trembling balls and obediently ducked behind cover. When the female demon cultivator first arrived in town she had murdered several people, sucking the unlucky victims dry until they were husks; no matter how beautiful her face, she was still a monster wearing human skin.

Someone seemed to hammer the silver knockers on the mansion’s red-bronze gates: heavy thuds echoed, and several faint silver streaks scratched across the metal, yet the lock remained untouched.

Crossing her long legs, the demon cultivator coiled her whip at her waist and laughed. “Stupid donkeys of Penglai Immortal Sect, stop struggling. Your sect leader is still trapped in the inn. Keep quiet if you want to live. Once those two women arrive, I’ll let all of you go.”