Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 43

Demon Shadows Flickering (Part 5)

The Only Way to Break Through

The thing Tang Wenchun least wanted Yu Zhaoming to know had finally been noticed.

            

Tang Wenchun’s mind buzzed. Her hands trembled slightly. The look in Yu Zhaoming’s eyes before she left the Sea of Consciousness had been unmistakable—she had guessed that Tang Wenchun knew but hadn’t reported it. Of course. Yu Zhaoming was so clever; how could she not have figured it out?

Tang Wenchun let out a low sigh. “I—I didn’t want to either…”

Tang Wenchun’s voice was thin and faint, traveling through the Sea of Consciousness into Yu Zhaoming’s mind. It was actually a rather wondrous experience, and the heart demon’s voice came through weak and fragile, laced with distress.

            

Yu Zhaoming’s hand moved, then finally rose to press against her forehead. For five years she had been earnestly instructed by her master and fellow disciples, and kindness toward Tang Wenchun had become habitual. Now, sensing the other’s visible pain, Yu Zhaoming nearly lost control of herself, instinctively wanting to do something to comfort her.

But she couldn’t.

She raised her eyes to Thirteenth Young Master, who was staring intently at her. His smile was twisted, his expression visibly manic, but his gaze remained locked on Yu Zhaoming’s face, observing her, missing not the slightest detail.

            

She couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

Yu Zhaoming lowered her hand and scanned the tattered “manual,” finding a complete set of visualization methods and rituals inscribed within.

She paused. “The methods used here…”

            

Human blood, human bones, sacrifices…

Thirteenth Young Master glanced at it dismissively. “This method is the most reliable, and it doesn’t discriminate between cultivators and mortals. People are like wild grass—they grow fast and are inexhaustible. Mortals live but a scant hundred years, gone in a flash, so why not forge a genius instead? Perhaps one day they’ll even save the world, supporting the mansion as it collapses¹, lending their strength to the future of the human race.”

Thirteenth Young Master grew more smug with every word. He looked at Yu Zhaoming. “Fellow Daoist Yu, wouldn’t you agree? You’ve been prodigiously talented since childhood—you must understand best the expectations our sects place on people like us, and the great responsibilities we must one day shoulder.”

            

“Nonsense! Someone who would save millions would never harm others!!” Tang Wenchun had never encountered such a shameless person in real life. Setting aside her guilt toward Yu Zhaoming, she clenched her fists and cried out. “People like that, talking about responsibility—it’s all just excuses. If she’d known this, why did she ever bother saving him!!”

Yu Zhaoming raised her eyes and saw Thirteenth Young Master, complacent and self-righteous. She suddenly wanted to laugh. A supposedly proud member of the human race, once a genius of his kind, a darling of his sect—yet his thoughts couldn’t even match those of a heart demon.

Was he a demon wearing human skin, or a human wearing demonic skin?

            

Yu Zhaoming thought this, and actually laughed.

Thirteenth Young Master saw Yu Zhaoming frown, and his own brow twisted in kind. “What are you laughing at?”

“I can’t do it. I do want to raise my cultivation. But Shige, you know as well as I do—the swords of the Sword Sect are never aimed at innocent members of our own race,” said Yu Zhaoming.

            

Thirteenth Young Master’s face twisted. Beside him, the demon cultivator could no longer hold back. He stepped forward, his oppressive pressure growing heavier, pressing down on Yu Zhaoming like a weight. “Enough talk. She can do it or not. If she refuses, I’ll kill her right now!!”

Tang Wenchun was alarmed and immediately gripped the pseudo-Cangfeng, about to emerge from Yu Zhaoming’s Sea of Consciousness. But her shoulder was suddenly pressed down, and Yu Zhaoming’s voice fell by her ear: “It’s not time yet.”

Tang Wenchun turned her head hastily, carrying a trace of hidden hope and uncertainty. “You—you don’t blame me?”

            

This strand of Yu Zhaoming’s spiritual consciousness was faint and formless, not fully condensed. But Tang Wenchun still felt the other’s gaze resting on her, lingering.

“Mm. I don’t blame you.”

People always looked out for themselves, and heart demons were no different. What was there to blame? To survive, anything could be forgiven.

            

This was an unshakable truth of the world. To live, to live longer, to do what one wanted to do. From this angle, Yu Zhaoming could even understand Thirteenth Young Master’s obsession.

Understanding, however, didn’t mean she would do the same.

Because at that turning point long ago, she had been saved by Shizun, knelt before the founding ancestor of the Sword Sect, and entered its gates. Naturally, she would act according to the Sword Sect’s rules.

            

But her heart demon clearly hadn’t realized this. Tang Wenchun visibly let out a breath of relief, her whole person relaxing. She said softly, “Yu Zhaoming, don’t suddenly disappear. Stay here and keep me company?”

Yu Zhaoming glanced at her. “All right.”

Tang Wenchun relaxed completely and murmured, “Your Sea of Consciousness is really so desolate. Whenever I’m alone here, it always feels a bit lonely.”

            

The heart demon chattered blah blah blah, mostly saying things of no consequence. Yu Zhaoming thought there was really no need to listen. But while facing enemies like this, she still sensed a thread of calm from the other’s ceaseless prattle.

Yu Zhaoming raised her eyes to the demon cultivator. “You intend to kill me?”

The demon cultivator gave a sinister chuckle and stepped forward. But Thirteenth Young Master blocked him, smiling. “Brother Wang, this one is the face of the Sword Sect. She’s very useful to us.”

            

That was what he said, but both Yu Zhaoming and the demon cultivator understood: Thirteenth Young Master was simply dragging himself through a mire and couldn’t bear to see others remain clean. He was desperate for everyone to be stained black just like him—only then could his heart find peace.

The demon cultivator snorted. “You disciples of the Six Major Sects, one by one—it’s getting hard to tell who’s evil and who’s righteous.”

Thirteenth Young Master ignored him.

            

“Strange. His cultivation is clearly inferior to that demon cultivator’s, so why does the evil cultivator follow his orders?” Tang Wenchun wondered.

“Naturally, because this is an organization,” Yu Zhaoming answered. Only in an organized group with hierarchies of status—not one that judged purely by martial power—would such a situation arise.

Once Yu Zhaoming pointed this out, Tang Wenchun snapped back to attention, worry surfacing in her eyes again. “They’re targeting the Six Major Sects, aren’t they? They want to use this method to infiltrate the sects.”

            

Low-ranking sect disciples, like those from five years ago, could never reach the top even with the aid of forbidden arts. But Core Disciples were different. Thirteenth Young Master had been among the core, then cast out—whether he’d ever return to his sect was unknown. Yu Zhaoming, however, was another matter. Though she hadn’t broken through in five years, the entire Sword Sect brimmed with confidence and expectations for her.

If Yu Zhaoming hadn’t been practicing the Emotionless Dao but walked an ordinary path instead, who knew whether the anxiety might have driven her astray?

At the thought, Tang Wenchun grew so worried that she didn’t even notice Yu Zhaoming looking at her.

            

Yu Zhaoming was indeed studying Tang Wenchun. Her heart demon was always so strange. Yu Zhaoming herself was an indifferent person, yet the heart demon insisted on harboring a sense of righteousness, worrying on behalf of all living members of the human race.

If she weren’t a heart demon but an ordinary person, perhaps she would have been the heir the Sword Sect truly longed for?

Yu Zhaoming’s lips pressed slightly together.

            

At this, Thirteenth Young Master laughed. “I know your Sword Sect’s rules. But don’t worry—I have all the materials. I’ll prepare them for you. And of course”—he patted Yu Zhaoming’s shoulder with feigned friendliness—”they’ll be the bone and blood of convicted criminals. You can rest easy with that, surely.”

After saying this, his gaze locked onto Yu Zhaoming. The demon cultivator also turned to look at her, wearing a sinister smile.

The meaning in those eyes was clear: if Yu Zhaoming refused even this, the demon cultivator would kill her in the next moment.

            

Matters having reached this point, Yu Zhaoming had only one choice. She nodded. “All right.”

“Good, good! Yu-shijie, don’t worry. When you’ve succeeded, you’ll definitely be grateful to me!!” Thirteenth Young Master said loudly. He raised his hand. “Someone, please escort Yu-shijie down into the tunnel.”

Several black-clad figures approached, their gazes heavy as they looked at Yu Zhaoming and gestured. “After you.”

            

Yu Zhaoming nodded and followed behind them. They hadn’t gone far when one of the black-clad men bent down and pulled a ring, lifting a wooden board to reveal the tunnel below. The passage was so crude that it couldn’t even be identified as the work of a cultivator.

The demon cultivator glanced at Yu Zhaoming, a few threads of provocation in his eyes.

Yu Zhaoming raised an eyebrow slightly, then jumped down. But the moment she landed, she frowned, looking around. Faint light flickered all around—clearly runes, filled with incantations.

            

“Suppressing spiritual qi.” Yu Zhaoming turned sharply. “A trap?”

Inside the Sea of Consciousness, Tang Wenchun grew even tenser.

“Haha, you’re Thirteenth Young Master’s guest. How could it be a trap?” The demon cultivator laughed. “It’s just that once you’ve entered this place, you’re no longer in control.”

            

Yu Zhaoming frowned. “What do you mean?”

The demon cultivator snorted and thrust out a hand. Demonic power erupted, slamming into Yu Zhaoming’s shoulder. Yu Zhaoming coughed up a mouthful of blood. She clutched her wound and looked up at the demon cultivator.

“All right, let’s go.” The demon cultivator shrugged and led Yu Zhaoming forward.

            

Yu Zhaoming’s gaze drifted over the necks of the black-clad men, but in the end, she didn’t act.

The demon cultivator, completely unaware that he had just taken a stroll past Hell’s Gate², said smugly, “Thirteenth Young Master values you. Don’t worry—as long as you break through to Nascent Soul, you’ll naturally be released. As Thirteenth Young Master said, you’ll even have to thank us when the time comes.”

Yu Zhaoming’s eyes lowered slightly. “Just like Thirteenth Young Master?”

            

The demon cultivator tittered. “Won’t you find out when you get there?”

Tang Wenchun listened, sensing something wrong in those words. Her brow furrowed tightly. According to Thirteenth Young Master’s account, the process should involve using some kind of technique to draw out the heart demon, then kill it to break through. But from the demon cultivator’s tone, it sounded as though the one who emerged wasn’t the original host, but rather… the heart demon after possession?

The demon cultivator’s laughter echoed from above. “However, the matter of the human sacrifice—you’ll have to resolve that yourself.”

            

Yu Zhaoming asked, “Didn’t Thirteenth Young Master earlier agree that—”

The demon cultivator impatiently cut her off. “Mortals are useful, naturally, but cultivators work even better. The better the talent, the greater the power gained afterward. We’ve already prepared everything for you—done more than enough. Go take care of it yourself!”

Saying this, the demon cultivator walked over to a cage and gave it a vicious kick. “Stop playing dead. The one who’s going to take your life is here.”

            

The figure inside the cage trembled slightly, shakily lifting a pair of eyes to look out, disbelief written across his face. “Yu Zhaoming? You’ve joined them too?”

Yu Zhaoming’s gaze fell on the mortar and pestle emblem on the other’s chest. “I see. The Medicine Valley disciples hadn’t been delayed in arriving—they had already fallen into your hands.”

The demon cultivator gave a laugh. “So what if they did? Eldest Senior Sister, we’ll be waiting for you up above.”

            

Watching the demon cultivator’s figure slowly recede, Yu Zhaoming fell silent.

The Medicine Valley disciple couldn’t be killed, of course. This place suppressed spiritual qi. The only method for breakthrough…

Within the Sea of Consciousness, Yu Zhaoming’s gaze fell upon Tang Wenchun, who remained completely oblivious.

            

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The author has something to say:

Tang Wenchun: Ah, why is my back suddenly getting chills today?

Yu Zhaoming: …

            

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