Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 19
by Little PandaSame Kind (1)
The Sword Sect really is so poor.
Tang Wenchun watched with a stiff smile as Xuanjiu walked further and further away. The other woman’s retreating figure radiated an eerie sort of pleasure that made Tang Wenchun’s skin crawl, as if something had set its sights on her.
Tang Wenchun hurriedly shut the door, only to turn and meet Yu Zhaoming’s serene gaze. The look directed at her was as composed as ever, but Tang Wenchun couldn’t face her just then and averted her eyes.
Her first-ever loss of composure had happened right in front of Yu Zhaoming—those negative emotions, the extreme loathing, the extreme resentment, escalating in that one moment from personal hatred to a disgust for all free creatures.
Such feelings were something Tang Wenchun had never experienced before. She didn’t know what was wrong with herself, and it was even harder to face Yu Zhaoming, who had witnessed every one of her ugliest moments.
“You’ll be staying in the room next to mine. Don’t worry—as long as you don’t commit demonic deeds, nothing will happen.” Yu Zhaoming’s voice broke the silence.
Tang Wenchun paused, startled. She urgently needed a place to compose her chaotic mind right now, so she nodded.
Yu Zhaoming escorted Tang Wenchun to her room. The two of them stood in silence for a moment, gazing at the dust covering every surface, before Yu Zhaoming raised a hand and used the Dust-Clearing Spell to tidy the room, then departed.
The room fell abruptly quiet. Tang Wenchun stared blankly for a while before lying down on the bed.
She hadn’t lain in a proper bed in many days, and the hard wooden planks against her back felt distinctly uncomfortable. She stared blankly at the wooden ceiling beams and unfamiliar roof tiles, then turned her head. The carved lattice windows were covered with paper, letting in only a faint glow of light.
A spell had been cast on the room, leaving no scent of dust—instead, it carried a cold, woody fragrance, perhaps emanating from these visibly aged furnishings, exuding a sense of long years passed.
It was scenery completely different from her original world, unfamiliar scents, and unfamiliar objects.
Tang Wenchun let out a long sigh. She rolled over, curling herself into a small, tight ball, and finally fell into a deep sleep.
Sleep, sleep. Even the greatest disaster could wait until she woke up.
By the time Tang Wenchun was roused from sleep by knocking, she rose and glanced around, still not fully awake.
The surroundings were pitch dark, but whether due to her constitution or some other reason, she could clearly see the outlines of every object—and naturally, she could see the figure standing at the door, silhouetted by the light of a lantern hanging in the corridor.
Tall and slender, with Cangfeng’s distinctive broad blade especially visible in the lamplight—it was Yu Zhaoming.
Tang Wenchun snapped fully awake at once. She hurried forward to open the door, fumbling a bit with the unfamiliar ancient door mechanism before finally getting it open to reveal Yu Zhaoming’s calm face.
“Wh-what’s wrong?” Tang Wenchun asked, glancing around warily. There were no signs of intrusion. On a dark and windy night like this, surely Yu Zhaoming wasn’t here to kill her?
“It is already the Rooster-Crow Hour1. It’s my turn to supervise sword practice today. Come with me,” Yu Zhaoming said.
Tang Wenchun paused, startled, and instinctively looked up at the pitch-dark sky. “It’s still dark out, isn’t it?”
“At the Rooster-Crow Hour, the first light appears. Look to the east,” Yu Zhaoming said, not at all annoyed.
“Where’s east?” Tang Wenchun asked.
Forgive her—being a modern person, it was perfectly normal not to know her cardinal directions. Yu Zhaoming fell silent for a moment upon hearing this, then gently pulled her outward and pointed in a direction. “Look.”
Tang Wenchun saw it. In the extreme distance, a deep blue hue emerged, and looking further ahead, the blue grew progressively paler—on the cusp of dawn, not yet bright.
Tang Wenchun asked in confusion, “Isn’t this still nighttime?”
In a modern person’s eyes, nighttime started at twelve o’clock, and morning didn’t begin until eight, nine, or ten o’clock the next day.
“It is already morning,” Yu Zhaoming replied. She glanced at her heart demon again. This heart demon was nothing like her—even when beaten repeatedly, she would just sprawl on the ground, shamelessly refusing to get up. Recalling Tang Wenchun’s behavior, Yu Zhaoming added, “The martial field is far away. You can also return to my Sea of Consciousness2…”
“I’m coming with you!!” Tang Wenchun said immediately.
What a joke—after getting her own body, who would want to go back to being that weightless heart demon? Of course, if possible, it would be even better to completely release this binding with Yu Zhaoming.
Tang Wenchun thought this over. She couldn’t figure out a solution herself, and asking around recklessly was obviously not an option. Even though she had only read the book, she knew that casually inquiring about heart demons and the Demon Race3 in the cultivation world was a massive taboo.
The only way might be to truly immerse herself in this world—perhaps only then would she have the opportunity to gain information.
Oh, right—she remembered that in the original book, some Sect Master was mentioned as being a heart demon in disguise.
Who was it?
Tang Wenchun narrowed her eyes, thinking hard. This book was a typical fantasy novel, a full three million words, and this minor character was only mentioned in passing by the protagonist’s group—she had very little page time. Tang Wenchun couldn’t recall who it was for the moment.
It seemed she would have to organize the book’s contents from her memory, so she wouldn’t forget them.
Thinking thus, her legs automatically fell into step with Yu Zhaoming’s. Yu Zhaoming turned her head slightly and noticed Tang Wenchun walking unsteadily, looking lost in thought. Yu Zhaoming hadn’t originally intended to pay attention—once the distance grew too great, Tang Wenchun would automatically return to her Sea of Consciousness, requiring no effort on her part.
But then she suddenly remembered her Shizun4‘s words, and Yu Zhaoming turned around.
Tang Wenchun couldn’t dodge in time and bumped right into Yu Zhaoming. She rubbed her nose, staring blankly at Yu Zhaoming. Yu Zhaoming formed a hand seal, and Cangfeng flew out and settled beneath her feet. She looked up and saw Tang Wenchun striking a defensive pose, even forming a pseudo-Cangfeng in her hand. Yu Zhaoming frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, ah… so you were sword-riding. I thought you were going to hit… um… train me.” Tang Wenchun let out a dry laugh, released her grip, and the sword in her hand dissipated.
“Use this.” Yu Zhaoming rummaged through her Storage Bag and pulled out a long sword sheathed in black ebony, handing it to Tang Wenchun.
“So beautiful!” Tang Wenchun drew the sword and gasped in admiration at the blade, which was water-blue like ice crystals. Her eyes lit up, and she couldn’t put the long sword down. She looked at Yu Zhaoming with hope and uncertainty. “Are you really giving it to me?”
Yu Zhaoming nodded, only to hear Tang Wenchun continue asking, “Really? Really?”
Loved good food, fine clothes, beautiful people, beautiful swords; loved ease and hated work—happy as a monkey over the slightest treat…
Yu Zhaoming still couldn’t understand how someone like this could be her heart demon. She nodded, said nothing more, reached out and wrapped her arm around Tang Wenchun’s waist, and rose into the air on her sword. Tang Wenchun stiffened only briefly before quickly relaxing.
Yu Zhaoming glanced at Tang Wenchun, then pressed her lips together and headed directly toward her destination.
The disciples were already standing there waiting. Upon seeing Yu Zhaoming and Tang Wenchun, their curious gazes fell on Tang Wenchun, though no one asked any questions. Yu Zhaoming gave a single cough, and the disciples began their martial practice to the side.
Naturally, someone was leading the practice. Yu Zhaoming’s role was merely to supervise and instruct. This wasn’t the main sect compound, however, and most of the disciples who had come out here were not without talent—there was no need for Yu Zhaoming to worry much about them.
Tang Wenchun just watched curiously, gently stroking the long sword she’d just received without making any moves with it. Her handling carried a trace of careful tenderness—it was obvious she truly loved the sword she’d been given.
Seeing this, Yu Zhaoming’s gaze softened further. As a sword cultivator, seeing someone treat a sword with gentleness put her in a pleasant mood, and even the chill around her lessened considerably.
The two stood together, shoulder to shoulder, looking quite harmonious.
By the time sword practice ended, the sky had barely begun to lighten. At the leader’s call to conclude, the young disciples’ gazes immediately fell on Yu Zhaoming—and by extension, Tang Wenchun as well. Tang Wenchun hastily ducked behind Yu Zhaoming, peeking her head out at the crowd.
“Who’s this?”
“She seems familiar with Eldest Senior Sister.”
“Definitely not one of us Sword Sect roughnecks. From the Sound Sect? Or a disciple of Wenyuan Pavilion?”
“Kind of cute… hehe…”
“Did something weird just slip in?”
Chirping and chattering, loud and noisy. But the disciples still didn’t dare approach Yu Zhaoming, only watching from a distance.
Before long, a paper crane came fluttering over and landed in Yu Zhaoming’s hand. Tang Wenchun watched curiously as Yu Zhaoming tapped the paper crane, and Xuanjiu’s voice emanated from it: “Come over when you’re done.”
So Yu Zhaoming led Tang Wenchun in Xuanjiu’s direction. Tang Wenchun turned her head to watch the disciples pairing off in small groups, heading in a certain direction.
“Where are all those people going?”
“Although they’re out here for practical experience, they can’t fall behind on their studies. They’re going to attend lectures. Once they return to the sect, they still have to take minor examinations.”
“…How miserable.”
It felt like this sect was some kind of comprehensive university—even the most heaven-favored prodigies had to study obediently. Thus walking and asking questions along the way, they arrived at Xuanjiu’s residence.
Xuanjiu had been waiting for Yu Zhaoming for some time. Though she was dressed in luxurious attire, she wasn’t holding her long pipe, and she looked somewhat haggard.
Yu Zhaoming bowed respectfully to Xuanjiu. Tang Wenchun hesitated for a moment, then followed Yu Zhaoming’s lead and called out, “Shizun.”
“Good, good.” Seeing Tang Wenchun, Xuanjiu became much warmer. She looked Tang Wenchun over with a smile, her gaze landing on the long sword Tang Wenchun was cradling. Her eyes brightened as she smiled, “So Zhaoming gave you this sword?”
“Hmm?” Tang Wenchun raised her eyes, looking confused.
Xuanjiu smiled: “In our Sword Sect, when you first enter, you practice with a wooden sword for at least three years—until you can cleave through stone and metal with a wooden blade. Only then do you move on to an iron sword, practicing for at least another three years until you can manifest sword qi. Only then do you qualify for your own personal sword. This sword was the one I used when I was young, named Luoze. I later gave it to Zhaoming. That was until a year ago, when she entered the Sword Sect and Cangfeng chose her… Before that, she treasured it so—no one else was even allowed to touch it…”
“Shizun,” Yu Zhaoming spoke up. “Let’s talk about the matter at hand.”
Xuanjiu’s smile froze, and she clicked her tongue, but she didn’t mind Yu Zhaoming’s attitude. She tossed Yu Zhaoming a Storage Bag: “These are the weapon talismans I refined overnight and the storybooks I wrote. Take them outside to Treasure Street and set up a stall to sell them. While the Desolate Heaven Secret Realm is still open, we can still earn some spirit stones from rogue cultivators. Just price them ten percent cheaper than the Treasure Gathering Pavilion. Of the spirit stones earned, thirty percent comes to me, the remaining sixty percent is for your cultivation, and ten percent goes to buying food and clothing for the little one.”
Yu Zhaoming took this in stride and bowed. “Yes.”
Tang Wenchun looked at Yu Zhaoming, then at Xuanjiu, and fell into silence.
The Sword Sect really, really was so poor.
The author has something to say:
Too lazy to name each chapter, so I’ll just go by themes…
Xuanjiu: This sword—she wouldn’t even let an outsider touch it before.
Yu Zhaoming: She’s not an outsider.
Xuanjiu: Wow! Could she be your insider5?
Yu Zhaoming: She is me.
Xuanjiu: …???
The Rooster-Crow Hour is roughly between 1:00 AM and 3:00 AM. In this context, we take it as 3:00 AM.
Footnotes
- A traditional Chinese time period (~1:00–3:00 AM), specifically around 3:00 AM, when roosters crow to signal the approaching dawn.
- A cultivator's inner mental space where spiritual consciousness resides, from the Chinese term meaning 'sea of consciousness.'
- A cultivation world species classification (mozu) referring to demonic beings, distinct from humans and ordinary beasts.
- A Chinese cultivation title for one's master, retained in pinyin as a sect-specific honorific without a direct English equivalent.
- 'Insider' (nei ren) is a Chinese double entendre, also meaning 'wife' in formal register.
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