Sis, You’ve Been Played! (2)

The frantic pounding on the bronze gate grew louder; incensed by the sword-spirit’s taunts, the trapped cultivators hacked fresh sword-grooves across its crimson surface. Zixiao tipped her face skyward, posing like a cat waiting to be praised. If her master Liang Jingxuan, ten thousand li away, could not locate her, he would at least scan for her aura and witness this scene. When he saw her avenge him, he would beam with delight.

Listening to the righteous disciples scurry and curse inside, she brimmed with good cheer; praise from Liang was already ringing in her ears.

She had once been a nondescript disciple of a third-rate sect, killed while scrapping over a talisman in a Secret Realm. Liang gathered her scattered soul and breathed her into the Purple Heavenly Sword after it was demon-forged by the gluttonous Taotie. Now she was its Sword Soul, “Zixiao.”

Those self-righteous fools from Penglai Immortal Sect had jeered at him, and that woman Xiao Lanle had wrung the seat of sect leader straight from his hand.

Ever since she had become the Sword Soul of the Purple Heavenly Sword, Zixiao had listened to her master’s endless grievances, and her loathing for the Penglai Immortal Sect had taken root long ago. Now, posted to garrison the Wuji Buddhist Sect, she shadowed the Penglai party and lured them straight into a snare of her own weaving.

A pink scabbard shimmered into her palm; she toyed with the tiny wing motifs, curious and eager. She had heard plenty about the tangled affairs that linked the Penglai sect leader, the Lord of Tianshu City, and the woman her master could not stop mentioning. By teaching these fools a lesson, she would finally lay eyes on the people he murmured to her blade about whenever he cradled her in his arms.

High above, Lin Qianshuang spotted the female demon cultivator, and her system promptly refreshed the dossier.

A Sword Spirit, no, a fiend-possessed Sword Spirit. Where had Liang Jingxuan hidden the old sword-spirit that once belonged to the Purple Heavenly Sword?

Lin Qianshuang read on, and the more she learned, the more she itched to hack Liang Jingxuan into pieces.

Jeez, this stallion-hero really is the crème de la crème of garbage.

Two minor sects were scrapping inside a secret realm over the magic relics in a legacy abode. Liang Jingxuan waited until they’d fought themselves into a frenzy, planning to snatch the treasure at the perfect moment. Spotting a girl among the combatants who was both pretty and blessed with the Yin constitution ideal for forging a Sword Soul, he swiped the relic in the chaos, then collapsed the entire cave to bury both sects alive, making it easier to abduct her.

Lin Qianshuang’s stomach turned, yet she admitted the move was textbook Liang; he’d used the exact same ploy on Xiao Lanle.

He still owed her for framing her over the Beast-Sealing Tower’s destruction. Since he played dirty, she could too. The Purple Heavenly Sword, scabbard and all, was her design and therefore her property. She’d take it back, and while she was at it, free the innocent girl’s soul so it could reach the Yellow Springs without delay.

Examining the Sword Spirit, Lin saw only a surface coating of demonic qi; purification was still possible. The living soul hadn’t yet turned vicious, wait any longer and tearing it from the blade would damage its three souls and seven spirits. Better to send it off to reincarnation now.

“A spirit lodged in a divine-grade sword is hellishly hard to destroy.”

Mu Weiyin recognized the true form of the demon cultivator perched on the stone lion at a glance. “Break the mansion’s sword array and find Lanle,” she said. “Then I, as City Lord, can drive this Sword Spirit out.”

Lin Qianshuang twirled the Thousand Rain Sword in front of Mu Weiyin’s eyes, her smile dazzling. “Relax, City Lord. With this sword you gave me, my confidence is sky-high. Leave the Sword Spirit to me; you go find Junior Sister Xiao.”

Mu Weiyin’s expression stayed rigid, yet the tiny twitch at the corner of her eye told Lin Qianshuang she had annoyed her.

Lin Qianshuang caught the slip at once and hurried to patch it up. “Ah Yin, I’ve said ‘City Lord’ so many times it just rolled off my tongue. Don’t be mad.”

Mu Weiyin said nothing, but the line of her brows softened. “Fine. But be careful; that Sword Spirit is no pushover.”

While they spoke, a silver flash struck the red copper gate; it crashed flat. A young man strode out, sword first, thrusting straight at the demon cultivator.

“Demoness, where have you locked the sect leader?”

With her pink scabbard, Zixiao casually parried every thrust from Chen Shangqing. She glanced up at his clear, handsome face and, feeling mischievous, teased, “Who are you calling a demoness? I’m no beast cultivator.”

Chen Shangqing’s pure swordplay failed to land even one strike against her single-handed defense.

Sensing the woman was no ordinary demon cultivator, he pulled back his sword and regarded her coldly as she fluttered her lashes and curved her red lips. “If you’re not a demon cultivator, what are you?”

“What am I? Like I’m not even human?”

“Still, right now, I really am not human.”

Zixiao tossed the weighty sword sheath up and down; her slender frame looked ready to buckle under its mass, yet her face wore the wistful sorrow only a mortal could show.

The sight was unnerving. Chen Shangqing could spot no opening in the demon sword-spirit and stood frowning in stalemate.

The Shark Pearl whirred suddenly behind her. Zixiao snapped around, became a dark purple longsword, and leapt clear of the mirage mist, re-forming human shape a few paces from the orb.

Xiao Lanle materialized in mid-air, caught the pearl in one hand, and let the Plain Inquiry Sword hang above her head, its sword aura shielding her like a canopy.

Chen Shangqing bowed low. “Sect Leader.”

Xiao Lanle pressed her lips into a tight line, Plain Inquiry Sword steady in her grip, and stared ahead in silence.

Chen Shangqing followed Xiao Lanle’s gaze. At some point Lin Qianshuang had appeared beside the strange demon cultivator and seemed to be speaking with her.

“Hey, are you having fun playing by yourself? Mind if I join?”

Zixiao had just steadied herself when someone tapped her shoulder.

She was wondering who would be reckless enough to approach her through the murderous sword qi when she saw the kindly woman in front of her; her tension melted at once.

Like the blade of the Purple Heavenly Sword, she recognized the maker of its scabbard, so Lin Qianshuang’s aura felt familiar.

Zixiao flickered onto a stone lion, whip in hand, and asked warily, “Who are you? Why does your scent feel so familiar?”

Lin Qianshuang sat on the stone lion beside the mansion gate, laid her sword across her lap, and explained with a smile, “You’re the Purple Heavenly Sword’s spirit. I know Liang Jingxuan. The scabbard he carries was forged by me, so of course my aura feels familiar.”

Zixiao froze for an instant, then placed the woman at once: this was the person her master called “the one in his heart.” The longer she studied that seemingly harmless face, the more stunning it became, and the bearing was unmistakable. This had to be the rumored woman.

Sourness curling inside her, Zixiao turned and said bluntly, “Exactly what my lord said: you look harmless, yet you make people drop their guard without noticing.”

Lin Qianshuang’s brows ticked upward. Tch, Liang Jingxuan had roamed the world radiating that so-called King’s Aura, how many had he ruined while playing savior? And he dared judge others?

She let her eyes slide away, still smiling. “They say my junior brother fished your soul from the secret realm in the Jibei Demon Forest. I was curious. We grew up together in Penglai Immortal Sect; I know him better than anyone. Since childhood he has performed countless ‘good deeds.’ Our present sect leader and I have both been ‘blessed’ by his kindness.”

Zixiao missed the sarcasm entirely. Stars in her eyes, she cooed, “Naturally. My lord is the gentlest, most elegant man under heaven. He bears the fate of the cultivation world upon his shoulders. Had villains not plotted against him, he would never have been forced to ally with Taotie…”

Zixiao realized she had let herself be baited, snapped her mouth shut, and shot Lin Qianshuang a glare. This woman was too dangerous; the less said, the better. She dared not strike her, for if their master blamed her, all the merit she had earned today would evaporate and she might even be punished.

Lin Qianshuang sneered inwardly. So Liang Jingxuan had hooked up with the Taotie; no wonder he was striding so eagerly at the front of the Beast-Sealing Tower assault while still finding time to torment Xiao Lanle and pen in the Penglai disciples who meant to reinforce Tianshu City.

The hero turning to the final-boss path was exactly what she had expected. After all her meddling, whitewashing his name and regaining esteem in the cultivation world was already harder than scaling heaven. Yet to ally himself with the Taotie… that astonished her. In the original stallion tale the beast had been the last great antagonist, savage, unreachable, and fiercely racist. Humans, to it, were merely two-legged animals.

What sort of transcendental charisma could Liang Jingxuan possess to win the Taotie’s cooperation? Had the so-called King’s Aura in him really been refined to perfection?

Lin Qianshuang’s amusement faded; schooling her face, she said evenly, “Back at Penglai Immortal Sect, besides me, the one closest to Junior Brother Liang was our present sect leader. Like you, she too was rescued by him in peril—more than once, in fact.”

Zixiao lifted her chin. “So what? There’s nothing worth showing off. He’s my master now, closer to me than anyone. All of you are merely the past he’s left behind.”

Lin Qianshuang met her gaze. “He always shows up at the exact second someone needs saving. Zixiao, haven’t you ever wondered why the timing is so perfect?”

The sword spirit flinched as if a needle had found a tender spot inside her, yet something raw and unfamiliar tugged at her mind, commanding her not to think. She leapt to her feet atop the stone lion and jabbed a finger at Lin Qianshuang. “Shut your mouth! I’ll never believe your cheap attempt to sow discord.”

Xiao Lanle, Plain Inquiry Sword cradled in her arms, caught every word. She gave a soft, contemptuous laugh. “Still the same sordid trick, line after identical line. When you lay breathing your last, he miraculously appeared. Then, ever the reluctant gentleman, he set you down with feigned awkwardness, turned his back, and murmured, ‘Sorry, miss, forgive the offense. I’ll look away.’ Finally, when you begged for help, he sighed that only mouth-to-mouth qi transfer could keep you alive… and spent the next half-hour kissing you senseless.”