#31: The Idea

The weather today was indeed not good, and it started raining after a short while. Shi Luoyi sat far away on a tree, swinging her legs as she observed Bian Lingyu.

After she left, Bian Lingyu sat by himself for a while. His expression was complicated, with a hint of anger. After a moment, he calmed down and continued to carve his bamboo strips.

Shi Luoyi had seen him carving bamboo strips before but didn’t know what he used them for. Now, she watched him curiously.

Bian Lingyu always worked with great focus, a trait they both shared. His eyelashes were long, though not as curled as Shi Luoyi’s. When he lowered his eyes, shadows fell on his lower eyelids—not dark or gloomy, but instead lent him an overly clean, youthful look.

Shi Luoyi wasn’t usually a patient person, but watching Bian Lingyu focus on his work somehow didn’t bore her.

When the drizzle began, Bian Lingyu didn’t go into the house. Shi Luoyi quickly understood—he was always fastidious about cleanliness and disliked the foul smell inside the house.

A few crows flew to the treetops to take shelter from the rain and were lightly flicked by Shi Luoyi. “Stubborn,” she muttered.

It was unclear whether she was referring to the crows or someone else.

The crows, sensing her non-hostile fairy aura, squawked loudly after being flicked but didn’t flee. Instead, they looked rather fierce, much like that person. Shi Luoyi couldn’t help but smile and said, “I was here first, and you still dare to be in a bad mood!”

Knowing that Bian Lingyu didn’t have any particular preferences and didn’t like it here made it easier for her to take him away.

But why hadn’t Bian Lingyu gone with her? Shi Luoyi still couldn’t figure it out.

The sky grew darker. Though it was only noon, the horizon was already covered with dark clouds, and rumbling thunder echoed. The spring chill was biting, and the temperature hadn’t improved much since winter. Shi Luoyi had originally planned to act if Bian Lingyu didn’t enter the house soon, but unexpectedly, this time he went in.

He closed the door behind him, and Shi Luoyi could no longer see him.

Shi Luoyi felt somewhat reassured. She had seen him feverish last time, which looked painful. It wouldn’t be good if he got sick again.

She stayed with the group of crows, having nothing else to do and no stubborn Bian Lingyu to observe, so she took out the book Bian Lingyu had given her and started reading.

Turning to the page about the Tianji Pill, Shi Luoyi ran her fingers over each word. She wasn’t sure if it was real. The thing itself was good, but the materials needed for alchemy were simply too far out of reach.

Shi Luoyi jotted down the required spiritual materials again, planning to collect them when she had the chance. No matter how slim the odds, she would give it a try—she never accepted fate.

From afar, hurried footsteps approached. Shi Luoyi looked over and saw someone wearing a straw hat walking up the mountain.

Judging from the figure, it was a young woman. The girl carried a basket, trudging through the muddy water while muttering curses at the weather.

Shi Luoyi had seen many mortals in her previous life and could tell at a glance that this girl likely came from one of the villages at the foot of the mountain. Coming up the mountain in such weather was truly difficult.

To her surprise, the direction the girl was heading was toward the wooden cabin.

At first, A-Xiu grumbled incessantly, but as she reached the courtyard gate, she became quiet. She had changed out of her new morning clothes to avoid dirtying them, now wearing the coarse cloth she usually worked in. She wore a straw raincoat and ran under the eaves of the wooden house, then knocked on the door.

From afar, Shi Luoyi watched as the wooden door opened, revealing Bian Lingyu’s face.

They exchanged a few words. Shi Luoyi was too far away, and with the rolling thunder above, she couldn’t hear clearly. But she could roughly make out their expressions.

Her first thought was, could Bian Lingyu have chosen to stay because of this girl?

She quickly realized it wasn’t the case.

The girl tried to push the basket into Bian Lingyu’s arms, but he coldly pushed it back.

He didn’t refuse A-Xiu taking shelter in the wooden house, but he turned and walked away, not staying with her. A-Xiu stood there holding the basket, visibly disappointed as she removed her straw raincoat.

Shi Luoyi watched for a while, feeling somewhat dazed. In her past life, during her exile, whenever she thought of Bian Lingyu, she had sometimes imagined a scene like this.

Bian Lingyu would eventually marry and have children.

Bian Qingxuan might live for a thousand years, but Bian Lingyu, as a mortal, had only a hundred years to live. He would grow old and die. Perhaps not long after she fled the sect, he went down the mountain and married another woman.

But seeing Bian Lingyu like this now, Shi Luoyi found it hard to imagine him living out such a life in his past existence.

Bian Lingyu was like a vast wilderness. People could see its vastness and desolation, but no one could truly claim it.

Just like now, though he was in the same room as A-Xiu, she initially blushed, but soon became increasingly uncomfortable, visibly restless and uneasy.

Bian Lingyu, however, remained cold, focused on his own tasks as if A-Xiu didn’t exist in the room.

The two of them—one like a detached Buddha sitting high in the temple, uncaring about sentient beings; the other like a devout believer trembling in reverence, almost ready to kneel and worship.

Shi Luoyi watched for a long time and quietly erased the idea of “finding him a virtuous wife in the human realm someday” from her mind.

No matter how good a wife might be, she probably wouldn’t be able to bear his coldness. Shi Luoyi felt anxious just watching A-Xiu. It was best to leave things to fate—who knew what kind of person Bian Lingyu liked?

The rain eased a bit, and Shi Luoyi keenly sensed a few unfamiliar presences nearby. Detecting malice, she narrowed her eyes and looked over.

Three men wearing Hengwu Sect disciple robes approached.

Shi Luoyi didn’t recognize two of them, but she did recognize one. He was a hanger-on of Xue An, named Song Weishan, who came from a well-off family and was a notorious playboy in the Hengwu Sect.

They walked toward Shi Luoyi’s side. Her cultivation level was much higher than theirs, so while they didn’t notice her, she heard every word they said.

At first, Shi Luoyi didn’t know what they were here for. As she listened more closely, her gaze grew colder and colder.

“Brother Song, won’t we get into trouble for messing with that guy? He used to be Little Junior Sister’s brother.”

Song Weishan stretched lazily and sneered, “What, are you scared? If you’re scared, go home. If Bian Qingxuan really cared about him, she wouldn’t let him rot in this dump.”

Another one chuckled, “Exactly. Rare to find such fine prey. Last time he came out to testify for Miss Shi, I caught a glimpse of him from afar and it’s been on my mind ever since.”

The first speaker retorted, “Who… who’s scared? I’m just saying, look at him. He doesn’t seem like the type who’d just let us have our way. Besides, I heard he was bitten by a beast before, so his body’s probably weak. What if we accidentally kill him?”

Song Weishan scoffed, “Please, like you haven’t killed before. Remember five years ago when that disciple who messed up got sent here? You were the most eager to jump on him. You had the time of your life then, didn’t you?”

That disciple seemed uneasy but ultimately kept quiet and didn’t leave.

Another one patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, “Relax. These outer disciples rarely have strong personalities. Everyone wants to live a long life. Who knows how many times they’ve been played with already? Maybe even Miss Shi got bored of him. After we’re done, toss him something nice, and he’ll keep his mouth shut.”

Song Weishan stroked his chin and grinned, “This mustn’t reach Young Master Xue’s ears. Go easy on him later—leave him alive so we can come back next time. This godforsaken place is convenient for such things.”

As they chatted, they quickly reached the courtyard.

No one saw Shi Luoyi watching them coldly, her Divine Fall Blade glowing fiery red with killing intent, much like her gradually reddening eyes.

Inside the house, A-Xiu noticed the group of cultivators and quickly sensed trouble. She stood up nervously, “Who are you?”

“Brother Song, why is there a village girl here? Didn’t those people say everything was arranged and no one would come back to disturb us?”

“Could this village girl be Bian Lingyu’s lover?”

The group burst into laughter. Song Weishan raised an eyebrow with interest. Another disciple understood, knowing he was getting excited. Someone cast a spell to restrain A-Xiu.

“Little miss, watch closely how we play with your lover.”

A-Xiu’s face turned red, and she looked at Bian Lingyu, “Run!”

Bian Lingyu looked at Song Weishan and the others. If it had been ten years ago when he first came to the mortal world, his understanding of human relationships would have been like that of a child—just a cold, deadly weapon. Now he knew what they intended to do.

Not only in the mortal world but also in the cultivation realm, such filthy deeds were not uncommon.

Song Weishan had seen Bian Lingyu a few times before and had long been captivated by his otherworldly beauty. Under Bian Lingyu’s cold gaze, he became even more uncontrollable.

He smirked, “Don’t worry. I’m just fond of men, not out to kill you. Just cooperate a little, and I promise you’ll enjoy it too.”

“I’ll enjoy it?” Bian Lingyu mocked coldly.

Silently, the bamboo figurine set up an array. On the desolate mountain, a Cangwu beast howled and rushed toward the wooden house.

Unaware of the coldness in his voice, Song Weishan thought Bian Lingyu was about to comply eagerly and undid his belt, “Of course. You’re better off with us than following Shi Luoyi and others. There will be plenty of benefits for you.”

He eagerly tried to pull down Bian Lingyu’s pants. The other two disciples, not completely losing their heads, feared Bian Lingyu might resist and pressed down on his shoulders. In the corner, A-Xiu’s eyes were red with anxiety, unable to bear looking anymore, and turned her head away.

Setting up the bamboo figurine array took time, and Bian Lingyu’s body was now frail without the Soul Purification Pill.

Sitting in his wheelchair, he watched Song Weishan coldly.

That gaze was icy, calm, and lifeless.

For a moment, Song Weishan felt goosebumps all over his body, sensing danger, but his actions hesitated only briefly. Lust clouding his mind, he licked his lips and pulled Bian Lingyu’s belt open.

Thunder roared through the sky, echoing across the clouds.

Song Weishan’s excited expression froze on his face, but his movements stopped for a long time. The other two disciples, puzzled, saw a line of blood appear on Song Weishan’s neck.

The bloodline deepened, and with the next thunderclap, Song Weishan’s head fell to the ground, splashing blood on the faces of the two disciples.

They wiped their faces in shock, watching Song Weishan’s headless body fall. Behind him stood a young girl holding a large blade.

Her head lowered, the wind blowing through the door made her Bu Ye Mountain skirt flutter wildly.

The disciple stammered her name, “Shi... Shi Luoyi.”

It was Shi Luoyi, yet unlike Shi Luoyi. The young girl raised her head to look at them; her face was spattered with blood. Her originally bright and clear almond-shaped eyes had turned blood-red.

She was already strikingly beautiful, and this scene left the other two disciples both shocked and terrified, unable to snap out of their stupor from her overpowering presence.

The one who snapped out of it first trembled as he spoke, “You... you actually entered...” The word “demon” struggled to leave his mouth.

The girl stared at them expressionlessly. Only then did they realize fear, releasing Bian Lingyu in a rush and falling to their knees with a thud.

“Senior Sister, no... Miss Luoyi, spare our lives…”

But Shi Luoyi’s eyes were empty. The images from her memories seemed even clearer, the shattered body of Hui Xiang still vivid in her mind. At that moment, she vowed never to let something like this happen to someone close to her again.

Amidst A-Xiu’s screams, she didn’t hesitate, raising her blade and bringing it down swiftly.

Before the two could run out of the door, their heads hit the ground.

Bian Lingyu looked at Shi Luoyi’s crimson pupils, frowning deeply. His perception of demonic energy was quite acute, and he hadn’t expected Shi Luoyi to succumb to demonic possession again under these circumstances.

Ignoring the blood everywhere, he harshly shouted, “Shi Luoyi!”

The crimson-eyed girl, her hands covered in blood, blinked and looked at him.

“Come here,” he said, “Calm down.”

A-Xiu found the scene utterly absurd. In her eighteen years of life, nothing had ever impacted her so profoundly. Within a short period, she witnessed the evil of the cultivators, the man she fancied nearly violated, and then a young girl appeared, wiping them all out in the blink of an eye.

A-Xiu had never seen such a beautiful woman. The girl’s fair skin and black hair seemed blessed by heaven, breathtakingly beautiful.

But the more beautiful the girl, the more decisive she was in killing.

After killing the others, the girl approached Bian Lingyu.

A-Xiu was almost beside herself, wanting to warn Bian Lingyu to run, and she wanted to flee herself.

But she saw that Bian Lingyu didn’t run. Instead, a faint trace of anxiety crossed his face, an expression he hadn’t shown even when he was nearly violated.

A-Xiu vaguely understood something, feeling a bit downcast. This was the first time she had seen him like this in the many days she’d known him.

It was as if a cold god had fallen from his altar, tainted by human emotions.

And the crimson-eyed girl stood before him. She sheathed her blade, and to A-Xiu’s terror, she didn’t harm Bian Lingyu. She bent down, her face stern, carefully fastening Bian Lingyu’s collar and tying it tightly with a knot.

A-Xiu was stunned, and even Bian Lingyu seemed silent, staring at Shi Luoyi without stopping her.

Shi Luoyi sat cross-legged in front of Bian Lingyu. After a long while, her eyes gradually returned to their normal black and white.

She lifted her eyes; the rain outside grew heavier, soaking the doorway.

Shi Luoyi quickly regained her senses from the control of her inner demon, taking in the scene before her: three severed heads that she had harvested, Bai Lingyu gazing down at her with pale lips, and A-Xiu in the corner, bewildered.

She raised her hand, pondered for a moment, and wiped the blood from her face, worried that her “murderous demon” appearance would frighten the two mortals in the room.

This was the process of becoming a demonic cultivator. Once the inner demons weren’t expelled, touching upon the nightmares within would worsen each time.

But Shi Luoyi didn’t regret it.

Killing was killing. Whether under the influence of inner demons or while fully lucid, she would have chopped those scum anyway—those habitual offenders who tormented their fellow sect members.

In her past life, inexperienced with killing, seeing a dead body for the first time had panicked her into leaving her sect. Now, however, her mind was very calm. She knew her inner demon hadn’t struck for the third time yet, and she needed to handle Song Weishan’s death first and then comfort the people inside the house.

She glanced at Bian Lingyu, who appeared completely calm and composed, then at A-Xiu, who was huddled in the corner, dazed and trembling. Ordinary mortals shouldn’t be able to see her crimson eyes.

Shi Luoyi released A-Xiu’s bindings: “Young lady, it’s not safe to stay here for long. Shall I escort you home first?”

When A-Xiu saw Shi Luoyi approach, she initially thought she’d be terrified. But the girl’s voice was gentle, and her eyes held no trace of violence—only clarity and purity.

A-Xiu looked at the young woman before her and stammered, “N-no, there’s no need… I can manage on my own…”

She tried to get up but collapsed back onto the ground.

Shi Luoyi glanced at her trembling legs, which couldn’t support her weight, and turned to ask Bian Lingyu, “Shall I take her home first? Wait for me here?”

Bian Lingyu nodded.

Shi Luoyi helped the awkward A-Xiu to her feet, set up a protective barrier around the house to shield Bian Lingyu, and didn’t forget to grab A-Xiu’s straw raincoat and basket before heading down the mountain.

Shi Luoyi moved quickly and soon escorted A-Xiu to the village entrance. Having a mortal mother herself, she was very understanding toward ordinary people. Seeing that the girl had finally stopped shaking, she draped the raincoat over A-Xiu’s shoulders: “Go home now. Don’t come up the mountain often. Those cultivators in the wooden cabin aren’t good people. If you need to exchange anything, let your father or older brother handle it.”

A-Xiu’s face flushed red as she nodded hesitantly.

“Y-you killed people… is that alright?” she asked timidly.

Shi Luoyi smiled faintly: “It’s fine.”

With that, she turned to leave, worried about Bian Lingyu. Just as she was about to head back, A-Xiu, perhaps acting on impulse, ran a few steps and called out, “Fairy, wait!”

Shi Luoyi turned around.

“C-can you take the young master from the wooden cabin with you?”

Shi Luoyi hadn’t expected this question. She sighed in frustration and nodded: “I originally came to take him away, but he refused.”

“He will agree,” A-Xiu said with certainty. “Talk to him properly. I know—he’ll listen.”

“Why do you say that?”

Meeting Shi Luoyi’s clear and pure gaze, A-Xiu’s face reddened again: “I just know. Please take good care of him.”

A-Xiu had quietly harbored feelings for someone before and understood how vast differences in status could make one retreat. She wouldn’t speak for Bian Lingyu or reveal the words he hadn’t said aloud—after all, she herself lacked the courage to express her feelings.

She knew Bian Lingyu didn’t belong to this desolate mountain and that she couldn’t keep him here.

Shi Luoyi nodded: “Alright, I promise. Now hurry home.”

On the way back, Shi Luoyi kept thinking of ways to take Bian Lingyu away. Since A-Xiu was so confident that speaking to him sincerely would work, she decided to give it a try.

In her mind, she had always entertained a rather poor idea.

That poor idea had been suppressed until now, but after losing control during her second bout of demonic possession, it resurfaced.

In her past life, Shi Luoyi had considered how she could return to Bu Ye Mountain openly and legitimately. The only plausible scenarios were weddings or funerals—occasions where the sect leader couldn’t prevent her from returning home.

If she died, the hypocritical Hengwu Sect leader couldn’t possibly deny her burial at home. Similarly, if she were to marry, it would have to take place at Bu Ye Mountain since Ming You Mountain wasn’t suitable. At that point, reclaiming Bu Ye Mountain would depend on who had thicker skin—her or the sect leader.

As for marriage partners, in her past life, she had stubbornly fixated on Wei Changyuan. After falling into demonic possession and reaching her lowest point, she often bitterly regretted not marrying someone sooner.

Today, hearing Song Weishan and the others’ vile remarks, she realized how they viewed Bian Lingyu. If Bian Lingyu refused to return to the mortal world and she kept him by her side, his situation wouldn’t improve—in fact, he’d likely face malicious speculation.

So, could she propose a fake marriage with Bian Lingyu?

If he agreed, she might be able to reclaim Bu Ye Mountain. Once she retrieved her father’s belongings, she could help him recover his health. When he eventually found someone he loved and wanted to leave, she could send him wherever he wished to go.

And if she failed against the sect leader, she could still send him away in time.

After much deliberation, she felt the idea wasn’t entirely terrible. However, thinking about the possibility of being strangled by Bian Lingyu when she brought it up made her hesitate.

But between being knocked unconscious or entering a fake marriage, he’d have to choose one—either option was better than staying on this desolate mountain.

She steadied her resolve, rehearsing what to say and how to clean up any mess afterward.

While Shi Luoyi was escorting A-Xiu, the Cangwu Beast had already hesitantly run down the mountain.

The beast was highly intelligent. Earlier, when Bian Lingyu hadn’t summoned it, it had waited nearby, observing discreetly. Now, when Bian Lingyu said, “Come here,”

The beast’s hooves blurred through the air, leaving only a streak of motion as it rushed to Bian Lingyu. Despite its fearsome reputation, the mighty Cangwu Beast shrank to the size of a white wolf and behaved as docilely as a cat.

Bian Lingyu paid it no mind. He looked at the corpses on the ground. These were clearly the sons of prestigious families, who often had soul lamps placed for them. Upon death, their souls would drift back to the lamp. If their soul essence was strong enough, they might even retain fragmented memories of their past lives. In that case, it would be difficult to conceal Shi Luoyi’s actions.

In the air, three fleeing souls were invisible even to immortal beings, yet they appeared clearly to Bian Lingyu’s gray-ink-colored eyes.

He raised his hand and accurately captured them, feeling them tremble within his palm.

Glancing at the Cangwu Beast, he coldly pried open its mouth and stuffed the soul essences inside.

The Cangwu Beast: “….” It was utterly dumbfounded, its mouth full of soul essences, too afraid to move.

Bian Lingyu’s voice was icy: “Swallow them.”

Daring not resist, it gulped them down obediently. The Cangwu Beast smacked its lips, tasting briefly before spitting distastefully. Disgusting.

“Let’s go.”

The Cangwu Beast sneezed and scurried away nimbly.

True to her word, Shi Luoyi returned shortly after the Cangwu Beast fled.

Her presence carried the chill of the storm outside. Upon returning, she efficiently dealt with the bloodstains and bodies on the floor, using magic to transport them outside and incinerate them with divine fire.

Watching the flames, she was aware of the matter of the soul lamps and felt some concern. Shattering souls was something only high-level demons or extremely powerful cultivators could achieve. Shi Luoyi wasn’t capable of that yet. Even if the soul lamps lit up, it was unlikely the souls would retain their memories from life. Worrying about it was pointless.

Throughout all this, Bian Lingyu remained impassive. Shi Luoyi was relieved inwardly that he hadn’t noticed her descent into demonic possession; otherwise, he likely wouldn’t be so calm right now.

She hoped he’d remain equally composed when she broached the next topic.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “I have something to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

Shi Luoyi wore a conflicted expression as she leaned against the doorframe, revealing half of her flower-like, radiant face to him. “Look, I did save you today, didn’t I? Can you promise not to get angry when I say what I’m about to say?”

Bian Lingyu couldn’t guess what she was thinking. He paused for a moment before replying, “No.” If it was something that would upset him, it was probably best if she didn’t say it at all.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes curving into a playful smile as if teasing him. “But I’m going to say it anyway.”

“…”

The wind blew in, carrying the smell of rain and earth. Perhaps her smile was too bright, too cloudless—just like when they first met—and Bian Lingyu pressed his lips together, finding himself unable to summon any anger.

Shi Luoyi cleared her throat: “Let me confirm something first. You didn’t stay here because of A-Xiu, right?”

Bian Lingyu’s expression remained blank, but for the first time, he realized he had underestimated her. Irritation flared within him, and he coldly replied, “What do you think?”

The Cangwu Beast, which hadn’t yet wandered far, shuddered slightly.

Shi Luoyi could tell from his tone that the answer was no. She grew serious: “I think it’s not because of her. And only if it’s not can I go ahead and say what I need to say next.”

Bian Lingyu stared at her. Having been annoyed by her so many times already, these few instances wouldn’t make much of a difference. He decided to hear her out—what kind of nonsense would Shi Luoyi come up with this time?