Chapter 583: Great-Grandson’s Wife No. 2

The moment a young girl’s figure appeared, Qing Ji instinctively assumed she was his great-grandson’s wife. However, after delivering a “friendly strike,” he immediately sensed something was off.

These past days, he had lost count of how many times he had stabbed Wang Buliuxing. With his level of skill, he knew exactly how it felt to pierce any part of her body with his sword—down to the finest detail.

Even the slightest variation was detectable through the minute vibrations traveling from the blade, through the hilt, and into his hands the instant the sword pierced through flesh.

The girl before him now was clearly different from Wang Buliuxing.

She was incredibly hard!

If Wang Buliuxing was soft and fluid like water, then this young girl was hard as steel.

As his sword thrust forward, the shock numbed the space between his thumb and forefinger, sending a painful ache through his knuckles, and his long sword nearly flew out of his grip.

Then, as he instinctively pulled the sword back, causing the girl’s body to slump backward, he realized something was even more wrong.

He might have killed the wrong person.

This girl was definitely not Wang Buliuxing!

Qing Ji: “…” Who is this girl? How did she get here? Where is my great-grandson’s wife?

Looking at the confusion and terror in the girl’s eyes, Qing Ji was utterly bewildered…

He began to worry whether this unfamiliar girl was immune to the area’s special influences and might actually die here.

————

Huá Sāng had never expected to end up on this ruined, collapsing rooftop. She should have appeared on that misty, rain-hazed ancient street.

Nor had she expected to be stabbed in the back before she could even take a good look around.

Still less had she ever imagined that immersing her consciousness into the ferule would bring such danger.

Just as no one would normally imagine that coming home could be life-threatening.

Caught completely off guard, combined with the extraordinarily clever and vicious precision of that sword strike…

The blade, in a single thrust, seemed to have instantly found a gap in her “turtle’s shell,” shattered her defenses, and pierced through her heart with flawless accuracy.

Then, as her body fell backward, she finally saw the face of her killer.

Huá Sāng: “…” He looks somewhat familiar. Have I seen him somewhere before?

The thought flashed briefly through her mind, and then her consciousness began to fade.

In her daze, all sorts of sounds rose in her ears, merging together into a chaotic, suffocating din that felt as if it would tear her consciousness to shreds.

She heard the monotonous, repeating rhythm of that night’s rainstorm beating against the black roof tiles, and the heart-stopping thunder.

She heard the villagers’ curses and insults.

She heard the whispers of certain fellow disciples from the Great Pure Palace behind her back, gossiping about her with disgust, as though describing something unclean.

She also heard the Spirit Pattern within her, suppressed for so long, let out an earth-shaking roar…

It was breaking free. The psychic energy surged and churned violently, like a super bomb that had been lit, reactions raging within, threatening to bring annihilation at any moment.

But Huá Sāng could no longer control it.

Soon, the sounds gradually receded, until only the weakening beat of her heart remained in her ears.

And then, even her heartbeat vanished, leaving only dead silence.

“…”

So this is what death feels like?

In the end, it’s just… like this?

If only… I could die without causing anyone trouble. Huá Sāng thought.

Zhang Huainan had once teased Huá Sāng, saying, “You clearly have the talent to learn more powerful abilities. But just because you’re so afraid of dying, you put everything into defense? Can’t you have a little ambition?”

But in truth, she did not fear death itself. What she feared was the spread of the night erosion inside her after she died, and the harm it could cause to others.

——————

Qing Ji understood the young people of today less and less. First, there was Wang Buliuxing, whose body contained the power of the Hundred-Armed Giant. Now, this unfamiliar young girl was carrying a highly “toxic” Spirit Pattern.

Why were all these young people so reckless, stuffing any damn thing they could into their bodies?

Qing Ji grumbled to himself, then, remembering the origin of his own Spirit Pattern, he shrugged.

Come to think of it, wasn’t my own Spirit Pattern just something my masters recklessly shoved into me?

Alright then, nothing to see here!

With that thought, Qing Ji looked down at his hands, which had swollen up like elephant legs, and felt the unstoppable, spreading damp toxin. He pondered for a few seconds, and when he saw the young girl reappear on the rooftop, he let out a sigh of relief, his gaze drifting to the long sword in his hand.

If he were still alive in the world, or if death were truly final for him, he would never have chosen such a brutal method to rid himself of the erosion.

But now…

Better a short, sharp pain than a long, lingering one!

*Squelch—!*

——————

Amid the deathly silence, Huá Sāng felt as though she had been swept into a vast, dark vortex. After an eternity of sinking and churning, just as all signs of life were about to be cut off, she saw a red thread.

It seemed to extend from a faraway void, descending from above, piercing through the dark vortex, and merging into her body.

Like a drowning person instinctively grabbing at any object within reach, she reached out and seized the red thread.

In the next moment, a strange force suddenly appeared, lifting her body, and she began to slowly float upward.

When she opened her eyes again, like a drowning victim pulled to safety, she gasped greedily for air, filling every lung sac, even though the air was thick with dust and a pungent, acrid stench.

As she breathed heavily, she could still feel a sharp, vivid pain in her heart and lungs.

“…”

Dead, and then… alive again?

How could this be? This is too strange.

Just as Huá Sāng was lost in a daze, caught between the pain of the resurfaced past and the bizarre experience of miraculously reviving after death, Qing Ji’s form “materialized” in an open space not far from her.

She walked over, examining the still-unconscious Qing Ji on the ground. Her pupils immediately trembled.

“Is this… Senior Qing Ji?”

Without external influence, a person’s adult appearance rarely undergoes major changes.

Earlier, Huá Sāng had only felt that the man who stabbed her looked familiar. But now, upon close inspection, she realized that this person was unmistakably a younger version of Qing Ji.

Except for a few fewer strands of white hair at his temples, and less of the weight of age in his brow, his appearance was almost unchanged.

“…”

But why would Senior Qing Ji want to kill me?

Wait!

Huá Sāng suddenly recalled Juejuezi she had met today, and the Broken Sword whose origin it claimed was the same as the ferule. She narrowed her eyes.

Could it be that…

This isn’t the Qing Ji I know?!

If so, I might have ended up here because the ferule and the Broken Sword resonated when they clashed at close range?

After mulling it over for a while, Huá Sāng gradually began to make sense of the situation.

Looking at the unconscious young Qing Ji on the ground, she suddenly felt that Senior Juejuezi’s identity was a bit more credible.

Just then, Qing Ji woke up.

He opened his eyes to the sky shrouded in dark red haze, and for a moment, he was lost in thought.

Though he had died here thousands of times, and had even truly died once, every time he awoke, he felt a hollow emptiness inside, as if he had forgotten something important.

But even when he tried hard to remember, he couldn’t find the slightest clue in his memory.

Perhaps that important thing wouldn’t be recalled until the Pure Lotus Sword was fully restored.

Seeing Qing Ji awaken, Huá Sāng hurriedly cupped her fists and bowed slightly, “Junior Huá Sāng greets Senior Qing Ji!”

Though she wasn’t certain if this younger Qing Ji, like the one at Yanzhi’s tavern, had lost his memory and name, Huá Sāng still wanted to attempt a friendly approach first.

Ideally, to avoid a fight.

After all, being awake was tiring enough already—did she really not deserve a little peace even in her “dreams”?

But even if it failed, it didn’t matter; she had prepared herself this time. She was confident that even Senior Qing Ji wouldn’t easily find her weaknesses or break through her defenses.

Hearing a voice beside him, Qing Ji was ready to draw his sword. Then he realized Huá Sāng had called his name and was momentarily stunned. Turning to look, he asked in surprise, “How do you know my name?”

It seems this Senior Qing Ji knows his own name? But how much of his memory remains intact, I wonder… Huá Sāng thought, explaining, “Senior, I am a disciple of the Great Pure Palace, trained under Qingxiazi. I am the grand-disciple of the Dark Emperor.”

“Dark Emperor? Who’s that?” Qing Ji asked, confused.

“Uh, Zhang Huainan.”

“Oh, little Zhang! He was indeed skinny and black as a child. ‘Black Little Brother’ suits him well,” Qing Ji said dismissively, curling his lip.

Huá Sāng: “…”

Was Senior Qing Ji always this arrogant before?

To be so dismissive of the Headmaster… it seems the Headmaster card won’t work here.

Tsk, the Headmaster really isn’t all that impressive after all!

As Huá Sāng fell silent, Qing Ji composed himself and sized her up with a serious look. “Something’s not right. Even if you are a disciple of the Great Pure Palace, you shouldn’t be here!”

The Pure Lotus Sword should be in the hands of my great-grandson’s wife. How did you manage to smuggle yourself in? Are you another one of my great-grandson’s wives?

Ah, yes! The Pure Lotus Sword can only be controlled by members of my Lu Family. If an outsider could connect their consciousness to the residual soul within, they still shouldn’t be able to take the ferule away. This girl must have an engagement or something similar with my late great-grandson!

One at home, and another on the outside—that brat was quite something!

Thinking this, Qing Ji’s view of Huá Sāng quickly shifted from “that weakling Zhang Huainan’s grand-disciple” to “Great-Grandson’s Wife No. 2,” and he gradually began to find her more agreeable.

“To answer Senior, this is what happened…” Huá Sāng cupped her hands and then began to recount how she had come into contact with the ferule, met the other Qing Ji, gained the ferule’s recognition, and then carried it with her.

Hearing that there was still a residual soul inside the ferule, Qing Ji was somewhat surprised. But upon reflection, he thought that residual soul might hold the very memories he was unable to recall.

Then, as Huá Sāng recounted her recent encounter with Juejuezi and the resonance between the ferule and the Broken Sword, Qing Ji was taken aback and couldn’t help but interrupt her.

“Hold on. Don’t talk nonsense! I have never taken on any disciples, let alone a female disciple!”

If Little Yanzhi found out I dared to take a female disciple, she’d tear the roof off our house!

And make no mistake—she absolutely could do it.

“Besides, the ferule and the Broken Sword were originally one. No matter what you say, it’s my personal belonging. This sounds like a scam, don’t you think?”

“So, Senior, you believe that person is deceiving me?” Huá Sāng countered.

“Of course!” Qing Ji declared with absolute certainty. “Previously, the Pure Lotus Sword was always in the possession of my great-grandson’s wife, Wang Buliuxing. Only heaven knows what went wrong for it to fall into the hands of that impostor!”

“Oh, and the next time you run into that person, make sure to snatch the Pure Lotus Sword back!”

Though he still felt Wang Buliuxing was more to his liking, if wife number one was out of the picture, then he’d have to let wife number two wield the Pure Lotus Sword.

Huá Sāng: “???”

Hold on, Senior Qing Ji said the Broken Sword is in whose hands?

Wang Buliuxing is Lu Yibei, right? How has that now become…

What kind of operation is this? Have I been on the mountain too long? Am I this out of touch with modern youth?

As she pondered, Huá Sāng hesitated over whether to tell Qing Ji everything she knew, and her expression gradually became rather peculiar…