Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 26
by Little PandaEvil Cultivator, Demon Seed (Part 3)
Thirteenth Young Master
That night, the Sword Sect party made camp in a small grove. The night was dark, the wind gentle. Firewood crackled in the flames, but there was none of the cheer from previous nights. Everyone was silent.
Tang Wenchun’s school days had been plain and unremarkable. School violence had always been just a distant term in the news to her. When such violent acts spilled from the news into reality, she found it hard to bear.
Moreover, Tang Wenchun couldn’t understand why that person would rather endure such torment than leave.
“Because being mortal is suffering.” Yu Zhaoming’s voice rang out, and only then did Tang Wenchun realize she had actually voiced her question aloud.
“My family is a lowly merchant household. My parents told me from childhood that after I left home, I must absolutely never say I was born a merchant,” Bian Man said softly. “Mortal merchants, even with vast wealth, have not the slightest control over their fate. When officials say confiscate, they confiscate everything. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to be a mortal either. Setting foot on the immortal path—even if I die—it’s still better than being mortal.”
These words drew agreement from the others. They began chattering away, and only then did Tang Wenchun realize that among the group were sons of craftsmen, daughters of farmers, and children of minor households of fallen scholars—people of all sorts.
Though their reasons for stepping onto the immortal path were bizarre and varied, every one of them would rather die with their Dao extinguished than return to the mortal world.
Tang Wenchun couldn’t help turning her gaze to the silently reticent Yu Zhaoming.
Ever since everyone began speaking of their mortal pasts, Yu Zhaoming had not said another word.
Tang Wenchun saw the girl staring at the fire. Her face held no expression; only the firelight leaped within her pupils. It was as though beneath the calm surface of a volcano lay hidden flames capable of destroying heaven and earth.
The girl’s fingertip slowly moved upward, pressing against her forehead band—but in that brief instant she froze. She raised her head and met Tang Wenchun’s curious gaze.
Tang Wenchun felt a flush of shame at being caught staring, and quickly averted her eyes.
What was Yu Zhaoming’s past? What had she experienced? What was hidden beneath her forehead band? Though she was Yu Zhaoming’s heart demon, it seemed she knew nothing at all.
Soon everyone set the matter aside. In Bian Man’s words, everyone in this world suffered; having a clear conscience was already giving it your all—how could anyone concern themselves with so much idle business?
When it came to the night watch, Yu Zhaoming took all the shifts. The disciples thanked her, and exhausted from the day’s exertions, they quickly fell into deep sleep.
Yu Zhaoming kept watch by the fire, sitting cross-legged in quiet meditation. After a while, she opened her eyes and set up a soundproof barrier, then turned her head: “Still not sleeping?”
The heart demon opened her almond-shaped eyes wide and said as though it were obvious: “I’m a heart demon. Why would I sleep?”
Yu Zhaoming made an “oh” sound: “In my Sea of Consciousness, you were also every day—”
“Alright, shut up.” Not mentioning the Sea of Consciousness was fine, but the moment it came up, the dead memories1 started attacking Tang Wenchun again.
Things like being Yu Zhaoming’s simp and so on.
Agh! Brain, shut up! Stop thinking about it!
Tang Wenchun hastily cut off her own thoughts. She curled her legs up and called out softly: “Yu Zhaoming.”
Yu Zhaoming gave an “mm” and quietly waited for Tang Wenchun to speak, but Tang Wenchun said nothing more.
Yu Zhaoming was not a talkative person. When Tang Wenchun didn’t speak, the two of them simply sat in silence.
After a long time, just as Tang Wenchun was growing drowsy, Yu Zhaoming suddenly seized her sword, her expression turning sharp and fierce as she stared at the dark, heavy forest in the distance.
Tang Wenchun followed Yu Zhaoming’s gaze, but saw only pitch blackness. Yu Zhaoming glanced at Tang Wenchun: “Focus your mind. Use your spiritual consciousness to see, not your eyes.”
Following Yu Zhaoming’s instructions, Tang Wenchun concentrated her mind and gathered her qi, releasing her spiritual consciousness. The world seemed to suddenly transform, no longer a lightless black.
The forest radiated gentle wood-attribute spiritual qi, motionless. The sounds of insects and small beasts were laid bare beneath her spiritual consciousness, and in the distance, deep within the layers of dense forest, the figure of a man fleeing in blind panic also fell into the net of Tang Wenchun’s spiritual consciousness.
Tang Wenchun frowned and stood up.
“Get behind me.” Yu Zhaoming pulled Tang Wenchun back.
Tang Wenchun glanced back at the still-sleeping Sword Sect disciples and said in a low voice: “Shouldn’t we wake them?”
Yu Zhaoming looked back at the soundly sleeping disciples: “No matter.”
She couldn’t help but feel there was a hint of tender fondness in that glance… It had to be her imagination.
The man quickly ran up to Yu Zhaoming. Tang Wenchun couldn’t help raising an eyebrow—it was the very same Thirteenth Young Master of the Wuji Sect who had been so arrogant toward their Sword Sect party earlier.
At this moment, the youth was in a sorry state, his mind clearly elsewhere. A deep gash ran across his face, still bleeding freely, making him look hideous. Tang Wenchun let out a low gasp. Yu Zhaoming pressed Tang Wenchun’s shoulder and leveled her sword at him.
Thirteenth Young Master’s face showed not the slightest outraged humiliation. Instead, there was a kind of desperate relief, and he called out loudly: “Eldest Senior Sister! Eldest Senior Sister, save me!!”
He rushed frantically toward Yu Zhaoming—where was even a trace of the ethereal bearing of a sect disciple he had shown before? His overly long robe hems became a hindrance instead. Thirteenth Young Master managed only a few steps before tripping over his hems and falling flat on his face, landing right in front of Yu Zhaoming.
“Eldest Senior Sister is our Sword Sect’s Eldest Senior Sister. What does that have to do with your Wuji Sect?”
Bian Man’s voice rang out from behind. Tang Wenchun turned her head and found that the Sword Sect disciples had all woken up, swords in hand, drawing close. Their expressions as they looked at Thirteenth Young Master were none too friendly.
Thirteenth Young Master’s eyes were full of terror. He shouted: “I was in the wrong before! I apologize to you all, I beg you, please save me!” He kowtowed forcefully, clearly so frantic that he couldn’t even care about face anymore.
They were all still young. Seeing Thirteenth Young Master’s state now, many showed reluctant sympathy. But since Yu Zhaoming hadn’t spoken, none of the others dared to agree. They all looked to Yu Zhaoming instead.
Yu Zhaoming’s expression shifted, but Tang Wenchun had already spoken up: “What kind of trouble has your Wuji Sect gotten into?”
She had read enough novels to feel that agreeing at a time like this would be walking into a massive trap.
Once these words were spoken, the other disciples all grew alert, looking as one toward Thirteenth Young Master.
Thirteenth Young Master stammered: “We… we were deceived…” As he spoke, his whole body began trembling again, as if he had suffered a terrible fright.
While he was still speaking, Yu Zhaoming raised her head: “No need to go looking. They’ve already come.” Yu Zhaoming stepped in front of everyone and said coolly: “Apply medicine to his wounds. Everyone fall back.”
Only then did Tang Wenchun notice that sometime, without her realizing, a hazy night mist had descended, blanketing the entire dense forest. The campfire still crackled, but the flames had weakened. The thick fog swirled and drifted, making the faces of those around her seem dreamlike and unreal, as if the people standing before her had become different beings entirely.
“Ah, ahh!! They’re here!” Thirteenth Young Master let out a shriek. He desperately tried to run, but a Sword Sect disciple grabbed hold of him. Thirteenth Young Master lashed out violently, trying to attack the disciple. The disciple dodged hastily, and in that brief moment of inattention, Thirteenth Young Master broke free and plunged headlong into the mist.
The disciple cursed in furious frustration: “Bastard!” He drew his sword and was about to give chase, but Yu Zhaoming grabbed him. The disciple froze, seeming to come back to his senses, and lowered his head: “Eldest Senior Sister.”
And in that moment of distraction, Thirteenth Young Master had already fled far away.
From far away, Thirteenth Young Master’s shrill, mournful cries could still be heard: “They’re coming! They’re coming! Don’t trust anyone! They’re not themselves anymore!!”
“…Has he gone mad?” Tang Wenchun frowned, a bad premonition rising in her heart. She couldn’t shake the feeling that his words were like a warning or an omen. She absolutely hated people who spoke without making themselves clear!
Yu Zhaoming, meanwhile, commanded: “Form the sword formation2! This mist has the effect of muddling the mind. Silently recite the Heart-Clearing Incantation3.”
After speaking, she glanced at Tang Wenchun. Tang Wenchun’s expression was composed, without the visible anxiety of the others. Perhaps heart demons were different from ordinary people.
Thinking thus, Yu Zhaoming drew Cangfeng and thrust it fiercely into the ground. Cangfeng let out a resonant hum, and the sword qi spiraled outward, actually scattering the surrounding mist. Everyone immediately felt their minds clear, and they hastily began reciting the Heart-Clearing Incantation as Yu Zhaoming had instructed, forming the sword formation.
For a time, sword qi crisscrossed the air, holding this small domain together.
But as everyone watched the mist grow ever heavier in the distance, they fell silent. After a while, someone asked in a small voice: “Eldest Senior Sister, are we just supposed to stay here and stand guard the whole time?”
Young swordsmen, vigorous and high-spirited, naturally did not want to stay in one place sitting idle awaiting death.
Yu Zhaoming glanced at the sky and considered: “There are still two shichen until dawn. We wait for daylight.”
The disciples exchanged glances. Though puzzled, they all nodded in agreement.
The current situation was no different from before. Everyone remained where they were, but the atmosphere had grown heavy, and time seemed to pass even more slowly, making people anxious.
Tang Wenchun sat beside Bian Man. Bian Man watched the surroundings warily and asked Tang Wenchun in a low voice: “What do you think that Wuji Sect disciple meant by what he said?”
Tang Wenchun shook her head: “I don’t know.”
“They—who are ‘they’?” Bian Man persisted. “Did… did the Wuji Sect people also encounter this kind of white mist?”
Tang Wenchun continued shaking her head. The surroundings grew ever quieter. The sounds of insects and birds that could still be heard before had, at some point, gone completely silent. It was so quiet that only the crackling of the fire and people’s breathing could be heard.
Such silence was truly a form of torture. As time passed, the disciples’ expressions gradually grew more anxious. Tang Wenchun looked toward Yu Zhaoming. Yu Zhaoming sat cross-legged, her gaze fixed on the depths of the mist. Her face held not a trace of impatience or anxiety—like a steady hunter, quietly waiting for her prey.
Compared to the other disciples, Yu Zhaoming was without joy or sorrow, like a deity.
Emotionless Dao.
Tang Wenchun recalled Yu Zhaoming’s cultivation path. Her fingers twitched slightly. The next moment, Yu Zhaoming looked toward her.
Their eyes met. Tang Wenchun managed a forced smile at Yu Zhaoming. Yu Zhaoming turned her head away, gripped Cangfeng, and stood up: “Who goes there?”
Startled, the disciples also looked in the direction Yu Zhaoming was facing.
A figure slowly emerged from the mist. He took a few steps forward, then stopped within the fog. The firelight was too dim to make out his face. One could only tell from his white robes that he was also a disciple of the Wuji Sect.
“Eldest Senior Sister, have you seen our sect’s Thirteenth Young Master?”
The other party asked, his voice dark and cold.
“He ran into the mist,” Yu Zhaoming replied, her voice showing no fluctuation, but Tang Wenchun noticed that her grip on Cangfeng had tightened.
“I couldn’t find him,” the man answered. “Did you hide him away?”
Yu Zhaoming: “He is not here.”
The man: “I can’t find him. It must be you—you’ve hidden him away.” His voice grew colder. “Give him back to us. He betrayed us. We must find him.”
Yu Zhaoming: “…Form the formation.”
Though completely bewildered, the disciples reflexively formed the sword formation. Although Foundation Establishment stage disciples couldn’t yet control sword qi on their own, through the sword formation they could generate and manipulate it.
Disturbed by the sword qi, the man staggered back in alarm, his voice suddenly rising: “So you really are hiding him! You’ve hidden him! I’ll make you pay!!”
As his words fell, the man suddenly bent both legs, dropped his waist, and fell onto all fours—rushing toward Yu Zhaoming’s group like a spider.
This classic horror movie scenario startled Tang Wenchun so badly that she immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, struggling mightily to keep herself from screaming. Then she met Yu Zhaoming’s gaze, and in that brief glance, she still caught a trace of relief in Yu Zhaoming’s eyes.
Relieved about what?
Why relieved?
Because she hadn’t screamed?
In that instant, the memories of her shrieking and shouting inside the Sea of Consciousness attacked Tang Wenchun once again.
The author has something to say:
Although it’s a horror scene, it’s actually not scary at all.
In chapters 23 and 25, I changed “demon” to “evil cultivator.” This relates to later setting details, so you don’t need to go back and reread.
Tang Wenchun: Even though it’s a horror movie set, social death is obviously scarier!!!
Yu Zhaoming: Oh…
Footnotes
- A Chinese internet meme, '死去的记忆突然攻击我' (dead memories suddenly attack me), describing long-forgotten or repressed memories resurfacing with vivid, unpleasant force.
- Jianzhen (sword formation) is a wuxia and xianxia trope where cultivators arrange themselves in strategic patterns, channeling collective spiritual energy through coordinated sword techniques.
- Qingxin Zhou (Heart-Clearing Incantation) is a xianxia cultivation concept derived from Daoist purification practices, where chanting specific formulas clears the mind of intrusive thoughts and external illusions.
0 Comments