The bald evil monk's eyes instantly bulged wide. A torrent of black blood welled from his mouth, and the Buddhist staff in his hand fell to the ground with a loud clatter. His entire body fell backward, rigid, crashing heavily onto the stone steps.
With a soft whoosh, the thin thread in his chest was pulled back and retracted into the room. Blood flowed along the ground, staining a wide patch of dirt crimson.
The courtyard fell into a dead silence.
The evil cultivators, who had just been harboring malicious intent, took a half-step back in unison. The arrogance on their faces completely froze, replaced by an irrepressible look of terror.
Song Yao kindly reminded them, “If you drag him away right now, he might still live.”
She paused, taking a half-step back to clear a path, and said in a gentle voice, “Or do you still want to go inside and see my senior sister?”
The evil cultivators swallowed hard and shook their heads repeatedly, their feet stepping backward without pause. None of them dared to cast another glance at the door. “No, there's no need.”
“It is good that Immortal Wen is well. We... we made a mountain out of a molehill!”
“Yes, yes, yes! Since nothing is wrong, we will head back to the prison right away. We won't disturb Immortal Wen and the Sect Master's quiet cultivation.”
The group had arrived aggressively, but they fled like beaten dogs with their tails between their legs. They kept their footsteps incredibly light, terrified of disturbing the terrifying presence inside the room. Within moments, they had cleared out completely, taking the bald evil monk, whose life was hanging by a thread, along with them.
Only a glaring pool of blood remained in the courtyard, emitting a faint, metallic stench.
Standing on the steps, Song Yao watched their figures disappear beyond the courtyard gate before the smile on her face slowly faded.
She turned, quickly entered the room, and closed the door. Walking over to the window, she reached out to touch the curled flower seedling beneath a dark potted plant. Gently wiping the blood from its surface with her fingertip, she breathed a soft sigh of relief.
Fortunately, these evil cultivators didn't dare to probe any deeper.
Otherwise, if they had paid any closer attention, they would have realized that the one who had just struck wasn't Wen Tang at all, but her.
It was not difficult for her to manipulate a plant to mimic the red thread and kill someone.
But if they had come in and discovered Wen Tang's state, the two sisters would have buried themselves here today.
Song Yao cleaned up the bloodstains and walked over to Wen Tang's side.
Wen Tang's breathing was erratic, her brow furrowed tightly, and her entire body was drenched in sweat as she struggled in pain.
However, her face was no longer as pale as before.
Huh?
Could it be that the Qi-Replenishing Pills were taking effect?
As if discovering a new continent, Song Yao conjured a few more Qi-Replenishing Pills and stuffed them into Wen Tang's mouth one by one, offering some words of comfort along the way. “Fifth Junior Sister, since you're already in this much pain, let's fight fire with fire and take a gamble. No gambler loses every day. What if it works...”
As she was stuffing the sixth pill in, her wrist suddenly tightened.
Wen Tang abruptly snapped her eyes open. Her dark pupils were as deep as stagnant ink, and the corners of her eyes were tinged with an unnatural, faint redness. A freezing chill, mixed with a subtle scent of blood, rushed over Song Yao.
She gripped Song Yao's wrist with immense force, holding it tightly.
Song Yao was dazed. “You're awake? How do you feel...”
Suddenly, a powerful tug pulled on her wrist.
Caught completely off guard, she was dragged forward. Her vision spun, and in the next instant, her back was pressed against the soft daybed.
Wen Tang leaned over, pinning her down. Her knee pressed against the side of Song Yao's leg, and one hand braced beside her ear. Her dark hair fell, brushing past Song Yao's cheek, trapping her completely within this small space.
Their breaths suddenly mingled.
Song Yao blinked.
They were so close that she could clearly see the faint dark circles under Wen Tang's eyes. Her long eyelashes cast small shadows, and her nose was almost touching Song Yao's.
Her body still bore the damp chill of cold sweat, mingled with her usual cool fragrance, making Song Yao's breathing skip a beat.
Feeling a bit suffocated under the weight, Song Yao still remembered to free her other hand to feel Wen Tang's forehead. “Tangtang, can you get up first?”
Wen Tang didn't speak. Her dark eyes were completely consumed by desire as her gaze fell upon Song Yao's slender, pale neck.
In the next second, she lowered her head, pressing her cool lips against it. Her teeth sank heavily into the soft flesh of Song Yao's neck with a near-obsessive force.
Song Yao cried out, grabbing the mattress beneath her. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! That's my main artery! If you bite through it, I'll die!”
There was no need to think; the skin had definitely broken.
Warm blood trickled out.
How could Qi-Replenishing Pills have such a wild effect as to turn someone into a vampire?
Song Yao kicked her legs and struggled twice, but this only caused her to be held even tighter, making her wrist bones ache with a dull, numbing pain.
Finally, the pressure on her neck eased slightly. Wen Tang lifted her head a fraction, a bright red bead of blood clinging to her lips. Set against her pale jawline, she looked breathtakingly beautiful yet chillingly demonic.
Her hazy dark eyes drifted downward, eventually settling on Song Yao's slightly parted lips. Her breathing grew heavier.
The pain left the corners of Song Yao's eyes slightly red, a thin mist of tears welling up.
Having struggled in vain several times, she simply went limp and lay flat, sighing inwardly.
To think that in her past life, in order to play the villain, she had teased and harassed at least a thousand people, if not eight hundred. Who would have thought the tables would turn, and she would end up at the mercy of her own junior sister in this life?
What's more, in this state, she couldn't even use her puppets.
Song Yao tried to make one final struggle. “Wen Tang, snap out of it. Don't we get along pretty well now? Isn't it a bit inappropriate for you to do this to me...”
As she spoke, the person on top of her suddenly stiffened.
The grip on her wrist abruptly loosened. As if suddenly drained of all support, Wen Tang slumped, collapsing heavily onto her as she lost consciousness.
Startled, Song Yao quickly reached up to support her shoulders. But as she looked up, her movements froze.
The door had been pushed halfway open at some point. The night wind from the corridor swept in, carrying damp air and causing the candlelight to flicker.
A dark figure stood at the entrance. He had a tall, slender build, and his pale fingers held two talismans.
Xie Zhou's eyes were cast downward, cold and listless, carrying a frosty, indifferent chill. His gaze passed over Wen Tang's back and landed unhurriedly on Song Yao's face.
Song Yao felt as though she had caught a lifeline. “Fourth Junior Brother... Fourth Senior Brother, Fifth Senior Sister seems a bit unwell, and I'm not feeling great either. Help me out.”
With a gentle flick of his fingers, Xie Zhou swept Wen Tang to the inner side of the bed.
Song Yao finally caught her breath. Pale-faced, she propped herself up on the edge of the bed and sat up, a sharp, throbbing pain still pulsing from the side of her neck.
She reached up to touch her neck, her fingertips coming away with a smear of light red blood. She hissed in pain.
It hurt so bad.
Was Wen Tang part dog or something?
She had never bitten anyone when her dark poison flared up before; at most, she would just hold onto her and cry.
Could it really be the fault of the Qi-Replenishing Pills?
A shadow loomed over her. Song Yao was busy searching her spatial pouch for a handkerchief to wipe away the blood. Without looking up, she said in a raspy voice, “Thank you, Fourth Senior Brother.”
However, Xie Zhou's gaze was fixed intently on her neck, unblinking.
A shocking bite mark stood out on her pale skin, blood still seeping from it like a forced stamp. It was so jarring that one couldn't look away.
He didn't say a word. In the next moment, his palm brushed against Song Yao's neck, his thumb tracing over the bite mark.
The icy touch sent a shiver through Song Yao. She instinctively shrank back, finally looking up at him. “Fourth Senior Brother, it hurts.”
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