Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 59

Interlude (1)

A Few Thoughts

What came next was no longer anything Tang Wenchun and Yu Zhaoming could involve themselves in. Outstanding as the two of them were among the younger generation, they had yet to reach the sect’s true core. Above them, their elders labored to shield them from wind and rain, letting them keep growing in peace.

            

“The Grand Sect Competition will proceed. That is the consensus of the sects.” Days later, Lang Xing summoned Yu Zhaoming and Tang Wenchun.

After returning, Xuanjiu had collapsed from her grave injuries and been moved at once into the Sword Sect’s Spirit Gathering Cave, sustained by precious spirit medicines while several of her fellow disciples took shifts keeping her alive. On top of that, the Yunzhongjun affair had shaken the entire cultivation world — Tianji Pavilion had sent out communications inviting the various sects to deliberation. Lang Xing had been run off his feet. Only after several days did he carve out the time to summon Yu Zhaoming and Tang Wenchun.

His boyish face carried a weathering and weariness far beyond its years. “Just focus on your own preparations. Don’t worry about the rest.”

            

Tang Wenchun pressed her lips together and asked quietly, “Then our Shizun…”

“My shimei used Shared Demise of Heaven and Earth… you both know what that art costs.” Lang Xing’s hands were clasped tightly in front of him; he’d forgotten to hide his anxiety. “Her innate talent was unremarkable in her youth, but her comprehension was superb. Master once said she’d be the one among us who accumulated richly and broke out slowly¹… Only… of all Master’s many disciples…”

The one with transcendent talent had fallen to demons. The one meant to accumulate richly and break out slowly remained trapped at Soul Emergence to this day. And the one once dismissed as the dullest of them all now shouldered a mountain gate that was never meant to be his inheritance, staggering as he dragged the sect’s old and young forward.

            

A master like that — yet of all his disciples, not one future had he called right.

“…Sect Master Martial Uncle?” Tang Wenchun’s voice broke in.

Lang Xing came back to himself. He wiped a hand down his face, wiping away those old memories with it. “She’s already back at Taoli Peak. When you have time, keep her company.”

            

Tang Wenchun startled. “Sh-Shizun, she…”

“She has perhaps two or three hundred years left to live.” Lang Xing sounded defeated. “Unless she breaks through Soul Emergence… but she’s been trapped at that stage far too long…”

Tang Wenchun had no words. Even after five years in this world, counting the time before her transmigration, her total age came to no more than 30. In a modern worldview, two or three hundred years was a very, very long time — time enough to do so very many things.

            

In the modern world, two hundred years was enough to turn the whole world upside down, enough for science to advance beyond imagining. What couldn’t be accomplished given that?

Tang Wenchun still hadn’t learned to measure things on a cultivator’s timescale.

Besides, wasn’t there a peerlessly brilliant future Sword Venerable at her side? And the Sword Venerable’s disciple was the novel’s female lead, no less — a child of heaven-ordained fortune.

            

Tang Wenchun’s smile bloomed at once. “Two or three hundred whole years! Spirit medicines or anything else — we can find them for her. Shizun will absolutely be fine!”

Her voice was certain and bright, and the knot between Lang Xing’s brows gradually eased. He nodded and smiled. “You’re right — there must be a way.”

The two of them were eager to see their Shizun and bade Lang Xing farewell. They were about to head back when Lang Xing called out to Tang Wenchun. “Oh — a letter came from the Treasure Gathering Pavilion.”

            

Tang Wenchun turned. “Huh?”

“It’s about that Myriad Realms Mirror of yours. Thanks to the footage you recorded back then, everyone grasped how serious matters were — and we learned more about demons.” Lang Xing’s expression was grave, but Tang Wenchun felt a flicker of confusion. Wait — demons? Tang Wenchun recalled Xuanjiu’s behavior back then. Clearly, Xuanjiu had known something.

“Sect Master Martial Uncle, about the demons…” Tang Wenchun hemmed and hawed, glancing at Yu Zhaoming. Yu Zhaoming nodded and asked on her behalf, “Might we ask Martial Uncle to explain in detail?”

            

Lang Xing closed his eyes. One crisis after another had worn him down so thoroughly he’d forgotten to mask his expression. Tang Wenchun clearly saw a thread of pain cross his face.

“If we understood what demons actually are, and where they come from, we might not have fallen into such a passive position. After the War of Gods and Demons, the gods of this world were driven to extinction — the demons should not have survived either.” Lang Xing looked at the two of them. “Do you know of Changsun Bu?”

Tang Wenchun shook her head blankly. Beside her, Yu Zhaoming said, “The previous generation’s Eldest Senior Brother. A cultivator of the Emotionless Dao.”

            

Lang Xing fell silent. After a long while, he said, “That’s right. Eldest Senior Brother. The Emotionless Dao… The Emotionless Dao is impartial and exacting — it looks ice-cold — but we all believed that deep down, Eldest Senior Brother still held us in his heart, held the whole Sword Sect. Later…” Lang Xing let out a long breath. “He fell to demons.”

Yu Zhaoming and Tang Wenchun exchanged a look. Yu Zhaoming saw the worry in the depths of Tang Wenchun’s eyes — and a trace of hidden fear. She turned back. “Like Yunzhongjun?”

“Yes.” Lang Xing pinched the bridge of his nose. The past was too brutal; he didn’t want to say more. “Once you fall, every shred of humanity is lost — only the object of obsession remains… Yunzhongjun at least had her shijie to hold her back. Eldest Senior Brother had no such tether. He believed the strong should not forever dominate — that cultivators had grown too powerful, pressing mortals until they couldn’t lift their heads. That the Sword Sect had grown too powerful, pressing the other sects until they couldn’t lift their heads either…

            

“He committed countless killings, caring nothing for sect kinship — he even slaughtered many of the Sword Sect’s young prodigies. His Dao had already gone astray… In the end, it was our master who led the elders and destroyed him, at tremendous cost. The Sword Sect declined because of it — which, in the end, was exactly what Eldest Senior Brother had wanted.”

Tang Wenchun remembered the sect’s decayed state when she’d first joined, and sighed heavily. “And Yunzhongjun now…”

“Tianji Pavilion has already issued an apprehension order… Even without Tianji Pavilion, the Sound Sect would never let her go. So many dead deserve an accounting.” Lang Xing’s voice turned abruptly cold and hard. “Besides — she is a demon now.”

            

For a time, the Main Hall sank into silence.

Lang Xing looked at the two heavy faces before him. His heart still carried grief for the past and regret for Yunzhongjun, but he knew these matters must not be allowed to weigh on the younger generation — so he deliberately turned to a lighter subject.

“Speaking of which — thanks to that little performance of Wenchun’s, the Myriad Realms Mirror became a sensation, and the Treasure Gathering Pavilion made a fortune. Their Sect Master has sent over a Heavenly Dao Contract: for every mirror sold, the Sword Sect receives a thirty percent share of the profits. I’ve taken it upon myself to give you one-tenth of the profits.” Lang Xing placed a jade plaque in Tang Wenchun’s palm. “The Pavilion settles accounts quarterly; your share will be credited to this plaque automatically. Anywhere the Treasure Gathering Pavilion operates, you can use it to withdraw spirit stones.”

            

Tang Wenchun suddenly felt as if she were holding something enormously precious; her palm began to tremble with shock. It was Yu Zhaoming beside her who steadied her hand, helping her grip the plaque. Yu Zhaoming glanced at Tang Wenchun — still stunned wide-eyed — curved her lips slightly, and bowed to Lang Xing. “Sect Master Martial Uncle, we’ll take our leave.”

“Mm.” Lang Xing nodded. Tang Wenchun’s expression drew a laugh out of him too, and the dark clouds hanging over his head seemed to thin considerably.

Yu Zhaoming glanced at Lang Xing once more, then turned, drew Tang Wenchun in, shielded her with her own body, and steered her out. Her handling was remarkably deft — she caused Tang Wenchun no pain, nor let her notice the slightest thing amiss.

            

Only after being led a good distance away, entirely oblivious, did Tang Wenchun snap back to her senses and look sharply at Yu Zhaoming.

Yu Zhaoming sighed softly. “Are you worried about the heart demon business, or reeling from your sudden wealth?”

Her voice was low, tinged with a hint of helplessness and doting indulgence. A ripple passed through Tang Wenchun’s heart. She raised her eyes — Yu Zhaoming wore the same ice-cold expression as always.

            

Surely that was her imagination, right? Tang Wenchun thought, ignoring the faint stir in her chest, and asked in shock, “How did you know what I was thinking??”

Yu Zhaoming: “…Aside from eating and scheming to make money, you never have any other worries…”

“Okay, okay, let’s not continue this line of conversation.” Tang Wenchun hurriedly clapped a hand over Yu Zhaoming’s mouth. They stood close together, and the gesture came easily by now. She considered herself quite close to Yu Zhaoming — they’d held each other, hugged, and had all but lived and died together.

            

“Ah!! Eldest Senior Sister really is with Little Senior Sister!!”

Someone in the distance had lowered their voice — but couldn’t suppress the excitement in it.

Tang Wenchun turned her head. Under a tree not far away, two junior disciples stood hand in hand, watching them, eyes brimming with delight. “Ahhh! She looked over! What do we do! Are we going to miss the kiss?”

            

Tang Wenchun: “…”

Sometimes, a cultivator’s sharp ears were a genuine nuisance.

Tang Wenchun turned and met Yu Zhaoming’s eyes. Yu Zhaoming was always intensely focused; even with the distant voices reaching her ears, she paid them no mind. Those people were nothing to her but strangers — strangers of the Sword Sect, if one insisted on categorizing.

            

To her, Tang Wenchun clearly mattered more.

A moment earlier, Tang Wenchun might not have thought much of it. But now, with Yu Zhaoming gazing at her without blinking, she abruptly realized just how ambiguous their posture was — even the palm resting over Yu Zhaoming’s mouth seemed to burst into flame all at once.

Tang Wenchun hurriedly tried to withdraw her hand, but Yu Zhaoming caught it in hers. Yu Zhaoming was a sword cultivator — her fingers long and strong, her palm calloused from childhood sword practice — and those calluses brushed lightly along the edge of Tang Wenchun’s palm, raising a fine tingling.

            

And Yu Zhaoming’s movement was slow, drawing the tingling out long. Tang Wenchun felt a current of electricity shoot up her back, racing along her spine toward the crown of her head. She looked at Yu Zhaoming in a fluster, not daring to meet her eyes directly — one shallow glance, then hastily withdrawn — and finally hung her head in complaint. “W-what are you doing?”

The heart demon’s voice was low and soft, like she was acting spoiled².

Yu Zhaoming looked down at Tang Wenchun, who kept her head bowed, only the whorl of hair on her crown showing. Even that whorl was small, looking soft and adorable. Yu Zhaoming’s lips curved faintly. Even she didn’t notice how gentle her expression was at this moment, when Tang Wenchun wasn’t watching her.

            

“When you used the Myriad Realms Mirror before, everyone saw it. Heart demons aren’t common, and records are scarce, so there’s no need to worry for now. But the cultivation world has plenty of well-traveled, knowledgeable people. If anyone links that footage with what we uncovered in the Xunyang Ghost Market back then, traces will surface sooner or later. When that day comes, the sect won’t announce it publicly — but it will very likely investigate quietly, to find out who.”

Yu Zhaoming laid it out point by point.

Tang Wenchun slowly raised her eyes to her, gaze shining. She came from ordinary origins; even within the sect, her role had mostly been to contribute ideas and concepts — the actual execution was never in her hands. But Yu Zhaoming was different. Brilliant since childhood, then made Eldest Senior Sister — arguably the leading figure of the new generation, trained in such duties early — she naturally knew all of this inside and out³.

            

“Yu Zhaoming, you know all this…” Barely had she finished the compliment when Tang Wenchun’s face drooped. “Th-then what about me?”

“Indeed.” Yu Zhaoming answered with a perfectly straight face. “If you’re discovered, you would likely be silenced on the spot…” She gave Tang Wenchun a long, deep look.

Tang Wenchun shuddered, eyes going wide. “Then I’ll run!”

            

“And where could you run to?” Yu Zhaoming watched Tang Wenchun at her leisure. She’d suddenly discovered she quite liked seeing Tang Wenchun panicked and helpless, meekly asking “Yu Zhaoming, what do I do?” — as if she were Tang Wenchun’s only support in the world.

And if her eyes held a few tears, so much the better.

Tang Wenchun had no idea what Yu Zhaoming was thinking. She was suddenly recalling the moment she’d created her own sword art — how something extra had appeared in her dantian. But afterward they’d both been injured; she’d taken trauma to her Divine Soul because of Yunzhongjun and needed a long convalescence, drifting half-conscious in Yu Zhaoming’s Sea of Consciousness the whole time, with Yu Zhaoming covering for her. Barely recovered, she’d been summoned by the Sect Master — no time to think it over.

            

Now, with Yu Zhaoming’s question, a different kind of idea stirred in Tang Wenchun.

When Tang Wenchun’s answer didn’t come, Yu Zhaoming narrowed her eyes slightly, a flicker of displeasure crossing them. “What are you thinking?”

“Hm?” Tang Wenchun looked up. She had nothing to hide from Yu Zhaoming, but the idea had never been tested — better to try it first, then tell her. So she blinked and sighed. “I really don’t know where I’d run… I can’t leave your side anyway.”

            

Yu Zhaoming nodded, feigning gravity. “When that day comes, you’ll simply have to stay in my Sea of Consciousness.”

The Sea of Consciousness is a person’s most vital point; no one would be allowed to probe it casually. If that day truly came, Yu Zhaoming’s Sea of Consciousness would be the safest place of all.

Tang Wenchun looked at Yu Zhaoming. She was clearly a little younger than Tang Wenchun, yet somehow always made her feel safe. Tang Wenchun couldn’t help asking, “Yu Zhaoming, don’t you find it annoying, me following you around all the time?”

            

Yu Zhaoming gave Tang Wenchun a deep look — but before she could speak, Tang Wenchun cut in hastily. “Don’t say it, don’t say it. I already know your answer.”

Yu Zhaoming looked utterly serious, even ice-cold under the Emotionless Dao’s influence, but once in a rare while she’d pull a small wicked stunt. Tang Wenchun didn’t mind that in the least — it made Yu Zhaoming feel more human, unlike the Immortal Venerables in books. But right now, she didn’t want to hear anything else.

With that, she covered her ears and ran off.

            

Yu Zhaoming watched Tang Wenchun’s retreating figure. After a long while, she finally said, quietly: “No, I don’t.”

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The author has something to say:

I’m still swamped today, so the author has nothing to say.

            

Also, I’ve seen how heated the discussions have gotten. I’ve been hesitating over whether to explain, and some friends in the comments have already voiced my thoughts for me. After thinking it over, I’ve decided to lay out my own take anyway.

First: Shen Feng wasn’t a good person, but from his standpoint, the marriage was fixed by the Sound Sect, brokered by the Sound Sect elders, and consented to by the bride herself. His crime didn’t warrant death.

Second, about Xuanjiu trying to save Shen Feng: if someone starts killing right in front of you over a mere word, do you step in or not? It’s like this — a strong cultivator murders someone in broad daylight, a weaker one steps up to save them, fails, and gets beaten or even killed for it. And then everyone else says she should never have intervened, should have just stood by and let the strong one slaughter the other person — that she had overestimated her own ability.

            

Third, why did Nüluo obey her Shizun and everyone else, marrying just because she was told to — why didn’t she leave with Yunzhongjun? Her own shimei had once described her ideals to her. She even saw that shimei as her ideal made flesh — the embodiment of a Dao she could never walk herself, someone she could watch go farther than she ever would. Once she learned she had become her shimei’s stumbling block, of course she would want her shimei to cut off that longing. Even at the cost of herself.

Fourth, Yunzhongjun herself. From everything described before, the original Yunzhongjun was someone with a heavy sense of duty — she’d developed feelings for her shijie, but she had her own pursuit of the Dao as well. Naturally everyone thinks in terms of the original: this should never have ended the way it did. If the heart demon were human, she wouldn’t have solved things with slaughter, and a better outcome might well have been possible. But the original died, and the heart demon is a demon. And her shijie just happened to touch the heart demon’s bottom line.

At the end of the day, each of these people stood in their own position — and none of it made for a satisfying read. There shouldn’t be plotlines like this one again.

            

Whoops, I went and updated early again without meaning to.

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