After Death, I Became My Shijie’s Palm-Sized Birdie

After Death, I Became My Shijie’s Palm-Sized Birdie – Chapter 34

by Little Panda

In the Dream

She is her own Ah Que—she has returned.

Wen Qiwu was woken by the cold. She opened her eyes and found herself trapped in a place so dark she couldn’t see her own hand before her face. She’d only taken two steps forward when an invisible wall barred her path. Wen Qiwu could sense hostile forces surging in the darkness, so she didn’t dare let down her guard.

The next instant, something hidden in the dark lunged at her. Wen Qiwu, already on alert, dodged it immediately.

It was only then that she noticed her outstretched hand was human—not a bird’s wing. Her second time separating her consciousness was far more practiced than the first; this time she’d even managed to condense a human form.

But she still couldn’t feel any immortal power. After all, she’d only separated her consciousness—no other power came with it. So when those things closed in around her, she struggled to cope.

Where was the source of that voice? It had brought her here without telling her what to do next. Wen Qiwu recalled that something similar had happened the last time she glimpsed her shijie’s dream—back then, it was Qingtuan who’d torn through the barrier with a single talon.

The forces lurking in the dark didn’t welcome her. They seemed to be trying every way they could to drive her out. Wen Qiwu dodged the relentless attacks while attempting to break through the barrier the way Qingtuan had.

But only after trying it herself did Wen Qiwu realize it was far harder than it looked. No matter how she struck, the barrier didn’t budge an inch. Qingtuan had made it look so effortless—how had it done that?

That little phoenix sure was… hiding its light under a bushel.

She wondered whether running into it last time had been mere coincidence, and whether Qingtuan was anywhere nearby now.

“Hss…“

Wen Qiwu caught a faint sound and threw herself sideways. A snake-like wisp of black malevolence whipped past her—another inch and it would have pierced her heart.

She focused her mind, handling the threat with care, not daring to let her thoughts wander.

“Whoosh!“

A white flame flared to life in the darkness, a thread of green flickering at its core.

The black “snake” that had just ambushed Wen Qiwu plunged headlong into the firelight and was incinerated clean in an instant.

The things that had been pressing in on her scattered like rats fleeing a cat. The ground beneath Wen Qiwu’s feet grew steadier, and the white flame—burning brilliantly—drifted to her side. Wen Qiwu cupped it gently in her hands, and from then on, nothing barred her path.

“Qingtuan, is that you?” Wen Qiwu whispered to the flame in her palms.

This fire was nearly identical to her own—like two little white dumplings huddled together. It reminded her of Qingtuan, who looked so much like her current form.

The flame gave no answer. It simply drifted, its flickering light pointing the way forward.

Wen Qiwu immediately gathered the flame in her hands and ran in the direction it indicated. Along the way, the black miasma stirring restlessly in the dark seemed almost frantic with frustration; she could feel things watching her from the shadows with cold, vicious eyes the entire way.

“What are these things?”

She didn’t know if it was her imagination, but Wen Qiwu faintly sensed a trace of her shijie’s power woven into the darkness.

As she pressed on, Wen Qiwu ran into another “wall.” This one didn’t fear the flame. Just as she stepped forward to look for a way to break it, the forces hiding in the dark finally lost patience and lunged out. Even at the risk of being burned clean by the fire, they were determined to keep Wen Qiwu here.

She absolutely could not go any further!

Wen Qiwu understood: the harder those things tried to stop her, the closer she was to something crucial. She used the flame in her hands to burn away the black mist surging toward her, then slammed the fire against the “door” blocking her path. After dozens of strikes, she could vaguely make out a few cracks appearing in the “door.”

How long would she have to pound at it before it broke?

【Roar!】

Wen Qiwu heard a monster’s low growl behind her. She turned to look—the black mist had coalesced into the massive head of an asura-yaksha¹. Its blood-filled maw gaped wide, about to swallow her whole!

Wen Qiwu pushed off hard, ready to dodge—then a force seized the back of her collar from behind. It was astonishingly strong; instead of dodging, Wen Qiwu stumbled backward.

No!

“Creak…“

Was that a door opening?

In the pitch-black environment, besides the firelight in her hands, a thread of blood-red light now bled onto the ground.

Wen Qiwu’s foot found nothing beneath it. She fell backward.

【Go.】 That gentle voice sounded again.

Wen Qiwu’s eyes widened slightly. She thought she saw a woman standing beside the dark door—her face indistinct. Wen Qiwu was certain she’d never seen her before, yet for some reason, a wave of sorrow rose unbidden in her heart. She reached out instinctively but grasped only empty air.

【Her heart demon is about to trap her to death in this dream. Go wake her up. Any later and I fear there will be danger.】

Wen Qiwu hit the ground. Fortunately, she was only consciousness now, so she felt no pain. But the stranger’s last words drove her to her feet without a second’s delay—she couldn’t afford to waste a moment.

After falling through the door, the world around her was no longer pitch-black. That woman had said this was her shijie’s dream. The sky in the dreamscape was dominated by a crimson hue—just looking up at it once made the chest feel unbearably heavy.

And this place… was still Wenshen Sect.

Wen Qiwu glanced at the collapsed buildings in the distance. That was Wenshen Sect’s weapon room. In thousands of years, it had collapsed only once—when the Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord had led his troops to break in. Was her shijie dreaming of what happened a hundred years ago?

She searched everywhere for her shijie’s figure. Yunwu Mountain, Wanyao Mountain—no one was there. At last she came to Wendao Mountain, the place where she had once “died.”

Fine snow drifted through the mountain air here. Each flake was tinged with what looked like a streak of blood—like the tears of an Immortal Venerable.

Wen Qiwu caught a snowflake in her palm. It carried a surge of grief to her—because this was a dream, and everything in a dream could bear the emotions of its master.

“Shijie…” Wen Qiwu bit her lower lip until it went white. Without hesitation, she sprinted up the mountain. Her instinct told her that her shijie was here.

The fierce battle between Wen Qiwu and the Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord’s avatar had erupted at the summit of Wendao Mountain. She found that place. From a distance, she could already see her shijie’s thin figure kneeling on the ground.

The summit was littered with faceless corpses. Blood stained everything red. The devastation of a great battle was everywhere—the scene her shijie must have returned to all those years ago.

Before Wen Qiwu could breathe a sigh of relief, she noticed that her shijie was holding a “person” in her arms—a “person” who looked exactly like the Wen Qiwu of the past!

That was the heart demon!

The thing whispered maliciously in her shijie’s ear. Wen Qiwu listened closely and found that every sentence was a trap laced with venom! It was trying to use her name to drive her shijie to death!

Wen Qiwu rushed forward, fury burning in her chest. This was the thing that had pushed her shijie to seek death over and over again! She’d already decided that if the heart demon was something she could see and touch, once she got out of that birdcage, she’d hack it to pieces!

Her shijie’s body was covered in fresh wounds, and in the heart demon’s hand was a dagger…

No matter how many cuts the false “Wen Qiwu” carved into her body, Yun Heng never loosened her hold.

【Shijie…】 The heart demon’s face was still smeared with Yun Heng’s blood. The dagger pressed against Yun Heng’s back, right over her heart. 【I have one last question for you.】

【Do you love me?】

The heart demon hadn’t bothered to lower its voice, so Wen Qiwu heard it too. She stiffened for an instant—then quickened her pace toward them.

Yun Heng’s expression went distant for a moment. She spent a long time considering the question. But by the time she found her answer, it was already far, far too late.

Her body trembled faintly. Just then, the heart demon raised the dagger.

“Swoosh!” The sound of a blade piercing flesh rang out. The dagger the heart demon had raised didn’t descend another fraction of an inch.

The sword Yun Heng had dropped at her side had been picked up by Wen Qiwu. Before the heart demon could act, she’d run it straight through the heart.

Wen Qiwu’s expression was colder than ice. If not for concern for her shijie, she would have made good on her promise and hacked the thing into eight pieces right then and there!

But this scene was still too horrifying for Yun Heng. She watched blankly as the figure in her arms dissolved into a pool of blood, with only one thought left in her mind.

She hadn’t been able to protect Ah Que again.

“Hum!“

Wen Qiwu approached her shijie carefully, but the sound of something cutting through the air reached her—a sharp ice sword had appeared from nowhere and was now pressed against her neck.

Wen Qiwu stared at the ice blade in bewilderment. She hadn’t expected her shijie to aim a weapon at her.

“Who… who are you?” Yun Heng’s voice trembled. She should have swung the sword without hesitation—but, but though the person before her looked somewhat unfamiliar, through her eyes Yun Heng seemed to see a soul that made her heart shudder.

So the sword hadn’t even touched Wen Qiwu’s skin; its edge hadn’t cut her at all.

Yun Heng looked like a porcelain doll that had been shattered and barely pieced back together—a gust of wind might crumble her. She couldn’t withstand any more terrible news now.

Hearing her shijie’s voice on the edge of collapse, Wen Qiwu touched her own face, suddenly remembering that her appearance had changed. Of course her shijie couldn’t recognize her.

This was the first time Wen Qiwu had altered her appearance on the level of consciousness. Her movements were clumsy—she was so anxious she nearly cried. By the time she finally restored her former features and lifted her tear-filled eyes to look at her shijie, Yun Heng’s eyes turned bloodshot in an instant, and the sword slipped from her hand.

“…Ah Que?” After a long moment, Yun Heng finally found her trembling, hoarse voice.

She wasn’t entirely lucid right now, so she relied more on instinct and intuition.

And the voice in her heart told her: She is Ah Que. Her shimei had come back.

Yun Heng raised her trembling hand to wipe the tears from Wen Qiwu’s eyes—but when she saw the bloodstains on her own hand, she was afraid of soiling her shimei’s face, and even more afraid that if she touched her, the person before her would disappear again.

Just as fear made Yun Heng start to pull back, Wen Qiwu flung herself into her arms and began to sob softly. Yun Heng held her tight without thinking. The body in her arms was warm…

The tears in Yun Heng’s eyes finally broke through. She held the person in her arms and murmured Wen Qiwu’s childhood name over and over again.