Song Yao was forced to look away. She glanced at her, then lay back down without a fuss.
The meaning of those words was that as long as she didn't look, she wouldn't take his life.
Okay. Whatever.
Over the past two days, she had pretty much figured out Wen Tang's temperament.
As long as she didn't leave and didn't mention anyone else, no matter how much she threw a tantrum or what unreasonable demands she made, Wen Tang wouldn't get angry.
She was even willing to go out and gather whatever Song Yao wanted, showing absolute obedience.
Even when she said she wanted to be the Sect Master of Black Cloud Mountain, Wen Tang had yielded the position to her.
This resulted in her being somewhat like a puppet emperor with no real power in a book, while Wen Tang was the regent who held the power of life and death.
The puppet emperor lay half-asleep on her “dragon throne,” deciding to exercise some imperial authority. “Find a room to lock him up for now. His cultivation is quite high and he has many tricks up his sleeve, so add a few more layers of seals.”
Wen Tang spoke coldly, clearly displeased. “You're not allowed to praise him.”
Song Yao felt that the current Wen Tang was a bit like a three-year-old child—mentally immature, with nothing but an explosively strong possessiveness. She casually humored her, “Understood. No praising.”
Only then did Wen Tang feel satisfied, turning around to walk out.
Before she had taken more than two steps, the person on the jade throne shifted positions and said sleepily, “Also, can you get me a cauldron and some medicinal herbs? I want to refine pills.”
Wen Tang paused. “Refining pills? You want to refine pills for Nine Saints Hall?”
Song Yao lay back on the jade throne, her feet propped on the back of the chair. She rubbed her eyes and continued munching on her jujube. Hearing this, she smiled. “Yes. Do you have to be jealous over this too, Tangtang?”
Wen Tang: “...”
She hadn't even refined pills for her.
Wen Tang remained silent for a moment before finally saying, “Don't eat while lying down.”
...
Within half a day, Wen Tang sent a puppet to deliver a cauldron.
Song Yao recognized this cauldron.
It was the Yin Soul Cauldron of an evil cultivator elder from Black Cloud Mountain. It was pitch-black, its body covered in twisted, winding patterns that, upon closer inspection, resembled human faces. Exuding a chilling, eerie aura, it was a relatively high-grade cauldron.
Some time ago, when she had sneaked into Black Cloud Mountain to wander around, she had used this cauldron to stew chicken. Even without any seasoning, it had been incredibly delicious.
However, that elder had been so enraged that he fainted on the spot. After she pinched him awake, he had spat out harsh threats, swearing that he would sooner or later throw her into the cauldron to refine her.
Now, the cauldron had actually fallen into her hands.
Very good, very good.
However, the herbs on Black Cloud Mountain were not basic enough and weren't suitable for refining Qi-Replenishing Pills. She needed to go down the mountain to purchase some.
She pondered for a moment, her gaze landing on the red string around her ankle.
Since her return last time, Wen Tang had increased the red strings to two, making them even more secure and completely blocking any path for her to leave.
She still had the talismans her Fourth Junior Brother had given her, but if she ran away and got caught again, given Wen Tang's current state, she might actually break her legs.
Weighing her options, Song Yao decided to discuss it directly with Wen Tang. “I need to go out and buy medicine.”
Wen Tang's eyes turned cold. “What medicine do you need? I will send someone to buy it.”
Song Yao: “Your people can't go out.”
A bunch of puppets and evil cultivators.
With the current hostile climate outside, going out would definitely lead to another fierce battle.
Wen Tang: “You can't go out either.”
Song Yao: “I can go out, and you can come with me.”
Wen Tang was taken aback. “What?”
Song Yao smiled. “What's wrong? You still aren't reassured even if you keep an eye on me yourself?”
Wen Tang: “...When are we going?”
“Now.”
“...Alright.”
Surprisingly easy to talk to.
Song Yao swept her gaze up and down. “This won't do. You need to change your clothes. This is too conspicuous.”
Dressed in pitch-black, with such a pale face, it was as if she was begging others to notice she was a puppet or an evil cultivator.
Wen Tang lowered her head, glancing at her own clothes. “...You don't like it?”
Song Yao blinked.
How did this get turned back to whether she liked it or not?
Without waiting for her answer, Wen Tang pursed her lips and said, “I understand.”
She turned and left, returning a short while later in a different outfit.
A light-colored dress.
The hem of the dress was embroidered with a few sprigs of pale white begonia. The fabric was soft and draped gracefully, making her entire presence seem much softer. Stripped of the gloomy, oppressive aura of her dark robes, she looked somewhat like her former, clever self back at Nine Saints Hall.
Song Yao stood on the cauldron and looked at her, her eyes curving into crescent moons. “Beautiful. I always said Fifth Junior Sister is the prettiest girl in the world.”
Wen Tang seemed to recall something and said flatly, “That's what you said about Chen Qingqiu and Zhu Zhao last time, too.”
Song Yao paused. “Did I? How come I don't remember?”
“You did.”
Wen Tang spoke unhurriedly. “The first time you went to spar with Chen Qingqiu, you came back saying how could there be such a beautiful person in the world. And after you fought with Zhu Zhao, when you came to me for help with bandages, you said Zhu Zhao was the most beautiful person in the entire world, and also had the worst temper in the entire world.”
Song Yao: “...Haha, you must have remembered wrong.”
Wen Tang was expressionless. “I didn't.”
Song Yao cleared her throat, feeling a bit awkward. “Well, the world's number one doesn't have to be just one person. All girls in the world have their own unique beauty and differences. How can you rank them? Aren't they all number one? There's nothing wrong with me praising them like that.”
She hopped down from the cauldron, changing the subject. “Alright, let's go. No time to waste.”
Fortunately, Wen Tang didn't make things difficult for her anymore. She cast a spell to tie the other end of the red string around her own wrist, following closely behind her as they headed out of Black Cloud Mountain.
...
Song Yao wasn't very familiar with the outside world. Only after asking a couple of evil cultivators did she learn there was a small town nearby that specialized in growing and selling various medicinal herbs.
By the time the two reached the town gates, the entire small town was shrouded in a layer of hazy gray mist.
Even though it was afternoon, the sky was as dark as if late night were approaching. The wind blew dust and dirt their way, carrying a faint, metallic stench.
The two had no choice but to stop, exchanging a glance.
This was clearly a sign of a demon realm forming. A demon had taken root in the town and was slowly consuming the vitality of the living.
Wen Tang paused, extending her hand to block Song Yao. “Go home.”
Song Yao didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “We're already here, why go home? Let's buy the herbs first before we head back.”
Wen Tang frowned. “Then wait here for me. I'll go buy them.”
Song Yao smiled and asked, “Leaving me here all alone, aren't you afraid I'll run away?”
Wen Tang: “...”
Obviously, she was.
Song Yao brushed her hand aside and walked through the town gates. “What is there to be afraid of? Tangtang, you had your love threads gouged out, so how did you end up becoming such a coward instead? Don't worry, if anything really happens, I'll run on my own and won't drag you down.”
Wen Tang: “...”
She hesitated to speak, ultimately only able to follow with a cold face.
The town gates were wide open, and there were a few locals walking about on the streets, looking no different from any ordinary town.
However, everyone's face was shrouded in a thin layer of gray mist, and their footsteps were unsteady, as if most of their essence and energy had been drained away.
Song Yao swept her gaze around, choosing a steaming noodle stall at the corner of the street to sit down. She waved to the stall owner. “Two bowls of noodles, please.”
Wen Tang stood beside her, her face showing displeasure. “Aren't we here to buy medicinal herbs?”
Song Yao looked at her with an innocent expression. “I'm hungry. Am I not allowed to eat?”
Rate on N.U.
