Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 10
by Little PandaSect Arc — One
Out of the Secret Realm!
The Heart Demon had taken physical form, and the two had fought side by side. But after exiting the Divine Tomb, it became Yu Zhaoming’s journey alone once more.
Tang Wenchun sat in the familiar Sea of Consciousness1, the surrounding grass swaying and affectionately brushing against her fingertips. She gently flicked the blades, struck by an eerie sense of reunion after a long separation.
Had she really come to treat Yu Zhaoming’s Sea of Consciousness as home?
Tang Wenchun sighed. She spread her arms and flopped onto the ground in a spread-eagle, staring at the unchanging sky. Yu Zhaoming hadn’t killed her—she had protected her instead. This gave Tang Wenchun a sense of gratification, a feeling that she hadn’t misjudged the person, hadn’t loved the wrong character.
Only seventeen…
The Yu Zhaoming who would one day become the Emotionless Sword Venerable2 was already this dependable. Tang Wenchun wondered: what would the Venerable be like once she truly assumed the title of the Sword Sect’s Sword Venerable?
She was beginning to understand why the female lead looked up to Yu Zhaoming as her idol. She had to admit, when Yu Zhaoming had stepped forward and stood in front of her, Tang Wenchun had felt an overwhelming sense of safety and being moved.
It was just a pity…
“She’ll still have to kill me in the end, won’t she…” Tang Wenchun muttered to herself, rolling over. “I wonder if I’ll get to see her become a Crossing Tribulation True Person3.”
Speaking of which, Tang Wenchun also recalled her own manifested form. Though she had still been by Yu Zhaoming’s side, she had been truly free then. She looked at her own palm, feeling nostalgic. “I really do need to find a way to manifest a physical form again.”
With that thought, even as a salted fish4, she felt a few extra measures of motivation. Tang Wenchun sat up and directed the white mist to disperse, revealing the scenery outside.
The surrounding landscape gradually opened up. Yu Zhaoming was not sword-riding5; she walked at a brisk, steady pace. When she reached the cliff’s edge, her footsteps paused. She turned to look at the dense ancient forest below, the boundless expanse of green, and spoke as though talking to herself—or perhaps explaining to someone: “This is already the edge of the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm.”
“What!” Tang Wenchun sat up in shock like a dying man revived. She gritted her teeth. “We’re out already? So fast…”
But come to think of it, if they had emerged from the same spot, they might have ended up surrounded by those two demon beasts6 instead. Still, comparing it to the female lead’s arduous adventures in the original novel, experiencing it herself… it felt almost effortless.
For a moment, she couldn’t tell who the protagonist was anymore.
Tang Wenchun shook her head and stopped thinking about it. After saying that one sentence, Yu Zhaoming turned and walked on.
“Can’t tell at all—for someone so cold, she sure likes talking to herself.”
Tang Wenchun couldn’t help but remark.
Yu Zhaoming shook her head with a hint of helplessness. She was now far from the depths of the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm and no longer needed to be overly cautious. She summoned Cangfeng and rode the sword forward.
They had entered in sorry shape, but the exit went smoothly. What Tang Wenchun never expected was that the area outside the Secret Realm had already been claimed by disciples from various sects. Through Yu Zhaoming’s eyes, Tang Wenchun saw all manner of buildings; the roadsides were neat and clean, and the shouts of many disciples hawking their wares rose and fell.
“Nine Yin Grass, Nine Yin Grass! Freshly picked from the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm, still covered in dew!”
“Dodo Bird Mingsha! Just one Medium-Grade Spirit Stone7!”
Tang Wenchun looked around in all directions. This antique, bustling atmosphere was entirely different from the throngs of people she was used to seeing in the modern world. She felt as though her heart had come alive. When she heard “Dodo Bird Mingsha,” she turned to look and saw clusters of perfectly round, shiny silver pellets huddled together.
“Dodo Bird Mingsha! How interesting! What is that?” Tang Wenchun grew excited without realizing it, her voice leaping with delight.
Yu Zhaoming happened to walk up to the stall as well. She stared at the little round pellets and, rather than recklessly reaching out to touch them, thought for a moment and asked, “What is Mingsha?”
That disciple wore a hemp robe embroidered with a medicine-grinding mortar. He glanced at Yu Zhaoming, his gaze lingering on the long sword strapped to her back, and his smiling expression fell, replaced by impatience. “It’s bird crap. Move along, move along—if you poor sword cultivators aren’t buying, don’t ask so many questions.”
The poor sword cultivator Yu Zhaoming didn’t get angry, but Tang Wenchun in the Sea of Consciousness was already fuming indignantly.
“What’s with that?! So snobby, looking down on the poor! If it’s bird crap, just call it bird crap—why give it such a weird fancy name?! I curse you to never sell a single one!!”
Yu Zhaoming silently adjusted her sword so that Cangfeng rested more comfortably against her back. She glanced back at the Medicine Valley disciple, saw him still spitting and muttering about bad luck, and only then continued on her way.
As she walked along, Tang Wenchun got a general picture. Most sect disciples had identifying emblems on their clothing.
Yu Zhaoming’s attire bore sword patterns; the herb-selling disciple had a medicine-grinding mortar; some had musical instruments, which Tang Wenchun guessed meant they were probably music cultivators. She counted—six types in all.
Others dressed more haphazardly, with no identifying emblems on their clothing. Tang Wenchun guessed these were likely what the novel called rogue cultivators.
These people had no sects, and their aptitude was generally unremarkable, so they tended to be poorer. When encountering sect disciples, they would often give way, and neither side would meet the other’s eyes. When their gazes did occasionally meet, both carried a hint of disdain.
But after looking around, the green-robed, sword-patterned disciples like Yu Zhaoming were the fewest among the sect disciples.
This was somewhat different from the original novel. Tang Wenchun remembered that when the female lead appeared, the Sword Sect was the most prosperous sect on the continent—everyone took pride in becoming a Sword Sect disciple.
Tang Wenchun puzzled over this as she watched Yu Zhaoming turn purposefully onto a main road. Pavilions and towers lined both sides, each with its own style and flourish—clearly belonging to different sects.
Tang Wenchun then watched helplessly as Yu Zhaoming’s footsteps turned toward a… crumbling, dilapidated Taoist temple. Just as Yu Zhaoming reached the entrance, a roof tile slid down from the eaves, crashed to the ground, and shattered to pieces.
“…So poor,” Tang Wenchun said in a low voice, but quickly caught herself. “No, not necessarily. Maybe it’s an immortal’s trick—the inside could be completely different from the outside.”
Yu Zhaoming pressed her lips together and let out a soft cough.
The disciples standing guard at the entrance wore robes of the same color scheme as Yu Zhaoming’s. The moment they saw her, a flicker of discomfort crossed their faces, but they still bowed and said, “Eldest Senior Sister!”
Yu Zhaoming nodded.
“Eldest Senior Sister, the elders are all waiting for you. Please come with me,” another disciple said urgently.
Yu Zhaoming followed behind the disciple, and the full extent of the crumbling Taoist temple came into Tang Wenchun’s view.
The immortal’s trick she had imagined? It didn’t exist at all. The inside and outside were remarkably consistent—if anything, the inside was even more dilapidated. At least the plaque outside still had the words “Sword Sect” in gilded lettering. Inside, the characters were completely bare, as though applying even a speck of gold leaf would have been an insult to them!
“…Wait, this is the Sword Sect Station? It’s too ramshackle! Are they really this broke?!”
Tang Wenchun’s voice of dismay echoed through the Sea of Consciousness—very loudly, exceptionally loudly.
Yu Zhaoming lifted her gaze slightly. She took in the peeling plaque, the weeds growing through the floor tiles, the chipped steps… She had never thought anything was wrong with it before. A sword cultivator only needed to grip the sword in her hand and trust the sword in her hand.
But now…
Yu Zhaoming lowered her eyes and walked slowly.
The Sword Sect Station was quite small. The two of them didn’t walk long before reaching the main hall. Even before they arrived, voices drifted out from within.
“…Enough of that. Elder Xuanjiu is on his way back. If our martial niece8 truly did something outrageous, we still need to wait for her Shizun9 to arrive before making any decisions.”
“But Elder, are we just going to let this go? We went into the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm and got nothing out of it. The Sword Sect is already…”
Yu Zhaoming walked into the main hall, and the clamor of voices stopped abruptly.
Tang Wenchun saw two people seated at the head of the hall. One had white hair and beard, a sorrowful expression on his face; the other was a square-faced man with round eyes, bare-armed, his body packed with muscle like a statue of black iron, pressing his head in pain. The disciples gathered around were somewhat familiar to Tang Wenchun.
She studied them carefully for a moment, then it dawned on her: “Oh, isn’t this that scheming guy’s bunch?”
“Elder Fang, Elder Yuan, Han-shidi10…” Yu Zhaoming bowed to each of them in turn, her manner courteous and measured. “Yu Zhaoming has returned.”
“Good that you’re safe.” Seeing Yu Zhaoming unharmed, the white-haired elder smiled. Compared to the disciples’ attitudes, it was clear the elders held Yu Zhaoming in higher regard.
Then Elder Yuan—the square-faced, muscular man—stood up and got straight to the point: “Zhaoming, Deng Wen says you went treasure-hunting alone and forced them to use Transmission Talismans11 to exit the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm, and so ended up with only one Ninth-Grade Spirit-Condensing Herb. Is this true?”
Yu Zhaoming raised her eyes and looked toward the group of disciples. When they saw Yu Zhaoming’s gaze fall on them, they shrank back uneasily. But the male disciple at the front raised his chin and said, “Eldest Senior Sister, for the sake of that Ninth-Grade Spirit-Condensing Herb, you disregarded your own low cultivation and drew in a powerful enemy. Afterward, you found an excuse to make us use Transmission Talismans to exit the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm, ultimately resulting in us getting no materials or treasures at all. Did I get any of that wrong?”
These words were extraordinarily cunning—every sentence was technically true, yet none of them were true. Clearly, they had come prepared, counting on Yu Zhaoming’s quiet, reticent nature and her unwillingness to explain herself!
Tang Wenchun raged, screaming: “Yu Zhaoming! Don’t you dare…”
Yu Zhaoming nodded. “You’re not wrong.”
Tang Wenchun: “…Yu Zhaoming, you big idiot!!”
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I got the time wrong, but I still have to update…
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Footnotes
- A cultivator's inner mental space where consciousness resides; a common concept in Chinese cultivation fiction.
- A prestigious cultivation title for a top-tier sword cultivator who has achieved mastery of the sword path, denoting supreme skill and status.
- 'Crossing Tribulation' is a major cultivation stage achieved by surviving heavenly tribulations; 'True Person' (zhenren) is an honorific title for cultivators who have reached an advanced stage.
- Chinese internet slang for a couch potato or slacker with no ambition or drive — someone who has 'given up' on striving.
- A common mode of flight in cultivation fiction where a cultivator stands atop their sword and flies through the air.
- Supernatural beasts in cultivation worlds that can cultivate and grow in power, distinct from ordinary animals.
- The standard currency in cultivation worlds; stones imbued with spiritual energy, graded by quality from low to high.
- A cultivation sect relational term for the disciple of one's martial sibling; here used by an elder to refer to Yu Zhaoming, who is Elder Xuanjiu's disciple.
- A cultivation-specific title for one's master, retained in pinyin as a sect rank without a direct English equivalent.
- A pinyin kinship term for a junior martial brother in a cultivation sect; attached to a name with a hyphen.
- A last-resort escape talisman that teleports the user out of a Secret Realm.
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