Chapter : 4
Qingyun oversaw the fates of mortal marriages, and was someone chosen personally by the Red Thread. If there were only a few people Li Lingjiang didn’t particularly like, he would rank among the top. He had long harbored prejudice against the demon race, and had secretly tripped up Li Lingjiang on more than one occasion. Over the years, from subtle jabs to open mockery, even witnessing him in person would stir unease.
“Master, don’t you wish to invite me in to sit?”
Qingyun withdrew his spiritual power. He still wore his usual flamboyant attire, with a slightly feminine appearance—even more alluring than Li Lingjiang herself. Li Lingjiang’s own beauty was delicate and enchanting, bearing the distinct features of the demon race, but her aura often overshadowed her looks, leaving an impression of sheer composure.
Li Lingjiang’s eyes darkened for a fleeting moment, her pupils tinged red ever so slightly, though she maintained a calm expression. She stepped aside to let Qingyun pass, avoiding his gaze entirely. She thought to herself: it had been barely more than a day since she returned to the Bùguī Mountain, and he had already come looking for her.
Her voice was quiet but no longer gentle: “The dwelling is humble; I hope the Immortal Lord can forgive its simplicity.”
Qingyun entered without hesitation, a faint curl of his lips forming. His tone was reasonably polite: “How could it be otherwise? Wherever the Master is, how could it be lacking?”
Li Lingjiang remained silent, unfazed by the veiled meaning in his words. She calmly walked to the main seat at the wooden table, where steaming tea had been set by Yinwu, heated with immortal energy. Little Hei squatted behind her. Her fingers were slender; even wrapped in gauze, they moved with precision. She poured a cup of tea for Qingyun, nudging it toward him with her fingertip: “What is it that the Immortal Lord seeks from me?”
“Just to see how the Master is,” Qingyun replied, spinning the cup on his fingertip, his eyes betraying undisguised disdain. “After all, knowing that the Master has been punished, I am rather concerned.”
Li Lingjiang lifted her eyelids to glance at him, then quietly withdrew her gaze, her face still politely composed: “Thank you.”
Weariness weighed on her further, and the wound on her lower back throbbed faintly from sitting upright. Li Lingjiang knew exactly what Qingyun’s intentions were: he was here only to make her uncomfortable.
As expected, he spoke next: “Master, have you heard of the Hundred Souls Rope?”
So that was his aim.
The Hundred Souls Rope was unique to the demon race: thin, translucent, and fragile in appearance, yet exceptionally resilient. It enhanced any weapon it was applied to and was harmless otherwise. Because of its rarity, even the amount Li Lingjiang had collected was minimal.
“Of course I’ve heard of it. Does Immortal Lord Qingyun have an interest?” Li Lingjiang asked evenly, taking a calm sip of her tea, her pupils deepening in red.
Qingyun chuckled—a sound that sent chills down one’s spine. He twirled the cup between his fingers, scanning her inquisitively: “Naturally. As the god of marriage, I thought to switch the threads, and so I came to the Master to request a portion.”
Switch?
Li Lingjiang’s lips curved faintly. Making a red thread out of the Hundred Souls Rope—surely this wasn’t for marriage but for some other, darker purpose.
“What could the Immortal Lord want of me? I am but a broken person, fallen to this state. All I possess are a few insignificant things in this small room.”
“Master,” Qingyun said softly, though his tone was far from friendly.
He leaned in slightly, voice lowered: “You are a revered sovereign of the Six Realms. Even a powerful new king relies on your reputation. It’s far easier to seek your aid. We’ve known each other for years; I hope you can help me with this matter.”
Li Lingjiang’s gaze darkened, meeting his briefly. Her voice turned icy: “The demon race now has only one king—the Twin Stars. Immortal Lord, be careful of your words. I was exiled to Bùguī Mountain, forbidden even to return to the demon realm. How could I possibly help you?”
She blew lightly over her tea, eyes cast downward at her faint reflection in the cup. Qingyun had surely approached the Twin Stars first, only coming to her after being rebuffed.
Qingyun laughed heartily, toyed with the cup in his hand as if speaking casually: “The new king retained you merely to leverage your reputation. Besides, I mean no harm.”
Li Lingjiang’s eyes darkened further. The red in her irises spread ominously, shifting her closer to her half-demon form. Her ears pricked, and an aura unlike her usual one radiated from her body.
“A few days ago, some unrest occurred in the mortal world, and several of my red threads broke inexplicably. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t repair them. I merely thought to prevent further mishaps.”
Li Lingjiang’s voice was calm, betraying no emotion: “Is that so?”
Qingyun met her gaze without fear: “Of course. Master, the fact that the Twin Stars spared your life proves their trust in you. I do not believe that such a minor matter is beyond your aid. If there is anything else you require, I will provide my utmost support.”
“For example—” he shifted his tone, his eyes now tinged with mockery, “helping you return to the demon realm—”
“Qingyun—” Li Lingjiang’s voice cut through sharply, rare emotion flickering, “I may not be what I once was, but do not forget: even as I attend meetings in the Immortal Realm, you still bow to me. No matter how incompetent the new king is, his status is far above yours. You are not in a position to dictate terms. Since you have been rebuffed, I believe our intentions are clear. Please leave.”
She braced her body, struggling to keep her breath steady, the pain in her organs twisting like knives. She bit her lip, showing no sign of discomfort.
Qingyun’s smile vanished. He let out a low, eerie laugh, his eyes glinting with madness: “Master, you refuse even an exchange?”
Li Lingjiang knew clearly that Qingyun didn’t genuinely seek the Hundred Souls Rope. He merely wanted to humiliate her, every word a deliberate stab.
If it were only that, she might have overlooked it—but she could never tolerate repeated disdain toward her race. A mere minor immortal, even without her powers, was beneath her notice.
Her words precise, her eyes blood-red, her beauty sharpened by her rage: “Please leave, Immortal Lord.”
Qingyun stared at her without blinking, seeming pleased by her appearance. He twirled his fingers, and in an instant a massive surge of immortal energy radiated from him, shaking the wooden house. Objects shifted, glass shattered, sharp shards flying with the wind, only to be deftly smashed to powder by her jade-bone fan.
Li Lingjiang flexed her fingers to open the fan beneath her eyes, her gaze icy as she fixed on Qingyun. Magic began to gather on the fan, her voice thick and heavy: “You truly are—reckless!”
Before Qingyun could respond, cries of pain came from outside: “Master!”
Both froze. Qingyun reluctantly withdrew his chaotic power and straightened his sleeves.
Li Lingjiang recognized Yinwu’s voice. Supporting herself on the table, she subtly furrowed her brow and exhaled quietly. Calmly adjusting her collar, she stepped forward and opened the door.
Before her lay a scene of blood, with Yinwu injured all over, clutching her arm, and beside her—a massive demon dragon.
Seeing Qingyun exit, Yinwu, seemingly unaware of the full situation, lowered her head anxiously: “Greetings, Immortal Lord Qingyun.”
Qingyun sneered, ignoring Yinwu entirely. Turning back to Li Lingjiang, he feigned a bow: “Master, I shall return another time.”
Li Lingjiang nodded faintly, watching him leave.
Only then did she relax, staggering to the doorframe. Qingyun had shown no mercy; if not for her resilience and Little Hei partially shielding her, she might have already collapsed. Her vision blurred as she looked at Yinwu, hearing her own ragged breathing: “Yinwu… where did you go?”
Yinwu lowered her hands, ashamed, avoiding Li Lingjiang’s gaze. In truth, she wondered if her wounds looked convincing enough. The dragon had not lasted long, so she had even removed the dragon’s pill as a fail-safe excuse.
“Master, I went to fetch Dragon Whisker Herb and unexpectedly encountered a severely injured demon dragon. Thinking it would be beneficial for you, I fought it and brought it back after slaying it.”
She appeared calm on the surface, but had already memorized Qingyun’s name. Her toys weren’t yet done with, so how could someone else casually handle them, especially with such low immortal power?
Li Lingjiang felt her strength leaving her hands. The blood-red in her eyes faded. The gauze around her ears had absorbed blood, and she groaned in pain. Before replying, a metallic taste filled her mouth. Unable to contain herself, she coughed up blood, staggering slightly, her gaze landing on Little Hei and Yinwu beside her.
She could no longer steady herself and collapsed to the ground, while Yinwu, witnessing the scene, seemed quite pleased.
