ILDV Chapter 74

Liu Yetao was silent for a moment, gently shaking her head. “Not always. I used to have a normal appetite, but recently I’ve had less and less desire to eat. Even eating very little, I don’t feel hungry.”

“Is your sister the same?” Ding Qin asked.

“I don’t know.” Liu Yetao said dejectedly. “We haven’t eaten together in a long time. She’s been very busy lately, probably busy with matters related to that Mingdeng Sect.”

“So… she doesn’t know you eat so little?” Ding Qin asked.

“I’m not sure if she knows or not. She hasn’t asked.” Liu Yetao answered.

“When did these changes in you begin, and when did you notice those changes in her?” Ding Qin asked.

“I can’t remember clearly.” Liu Yetao tried hard to recall for a long time, shamefully mumbling quietly. “I… I really can’t remember when I stopped feeling very hungry. It shouldn’t be more than a few months. I remember when the chaos just began, we went hungry.”

“Sister… her attitude suddenly changed around late summer, shortly after Master had just passed. I thought she was just too grief-stricken. When I thought back about it later, I couldn’t remember the specific timing. The lamp-lighting matter, I think it was about half a month ago… The first time she insisted on keeping lamps burning all night, after the lamps were lit, my heart suddenly panicked and I wanted to extinguish them, but she absolutely refused. We argued a few words.”

“But she had already become so fierce by then, so I… I didn’t insist. Later I told her I was very frightened, but she still wouldn’t yield. I asked her why we must light the lamps, but she wouldn’t tell me.” Liu Yetao’s voice grew lower and lower, even beginning to tremble. She was both fearful and uneasy, exhausted and anxious, her narrative gradually becoming chaotic. “She wasn’t like this before—she was very good. But, but…”

“She won’t tell me anything, no matter how I ask. Later once, I secretly followed her. But just as I reached the place and only overheard the name ‘Mingdeng Sect,’ she discovered me. She’s a very, very good person. She must have been deceived by that Mingdeng Sect to become like this! She’ll be in danger, but no matter what I tell her, she won’t listen. These lamps definitely aren’t normal, that Mingdeng Sect definitely has problems…”

“If so, you should refuse her arrangements all the more.” Bai Hong interjected.

Liu Yetao shrank back again. “I don’t dare. She… she, I’ve never seen her so angry, never seen her look at me like that…”

“Why are you so afraid of her?” Ding Qin asked again. “Were you always this afraid of her?”

Liu Yetao nodded, then shook her head. “Since childhood… one could say Sister raised me. Sister is eight years older than me. When Master adopted me, I was too young to remember, but when I grew a bit older, there were many things Master couldn’t conveniently teach me—Sister took care of me. Sometimes when she got angry she would scold me, but she was actually very good to me.”

When she spoke these words, her expression was both attached and awed. Ding Qin had seen many such expressions. Back in Ding Family Village, Ding Yuliang loved to catch fish by the small river and stream caves, but his mother didn’t allow him to play around carelessly. If undiscovered it was fine, but if discovered he would certainly get punished. Each time Ding Yuliang came home, he showed precisely this expression of love mixed with fear.

“But she wasn’t like this before. Back then, though I was also afraid, it wasn’t like now.” Liu Yetao grew uneasy again. “How she is now… really isn’t normal. Those lamps too.”

“Set your mind at ease. You won’t come to harm.” Bai Hong’s eyes narrowed slightly, her elongated phoenix eyes instantly revealing an imposing aura.

During the great calamity, no matter what evil heretical paths emerged wanting to interfere, whatever strange methods they used—just beat them back! In all her years of cultivation, she had yet to encounter heretical cultivators she couldn’t subdue. No matter what methods these people used, their ultimate goal was always profit. Once beaten until they felt it wasn’t worth it, naturally they would give up.

“No, it’s not that.” Liu Yetao bit her lip. “I’m not asking you because I’m afraid for myself. I want to ask you to save my sister.”

Bai Hong raised an eyebrow slightly, somewhat surprised.

“I’m actually fine. That lamplight won’t really harm me, it just makes me feel afraid. But Sister… she’s changed so much, goes out more and more frequently, comes back for shorter and shorter times, and won’t let me follow. I guess she must be going to find those Mingdeng Sect people, but I don’t know what’s happened to her, what those people have told her…”

Liu Yetao spoke brokenly. She was very worried but also very timid. This timidity made her hesitant in everything, and she felt shame at her own powerlessness. Taking advantage of Liu Chuanyu’s absence to invite Ding Qin and Bai Hong for help was probably already the most unconventional thing she had struggled to do.

“You said before that once you secretly followed her and heard the name ‘Mingdeng Sect.’ Where was the place you followed her to?” Ding Qin asked.

Liu Yetao gave an address. Ding Qin turned her head, her gaze looking far into the distance. “Is it the house across with a peach branch hanging on the door? With two blue stone slabs stacked as steps in front?”

Liu Yetao’s eyes widened in surprise. “You… you saw it?! It’s that area, but not that house—it’s the neighboring house to the west.”

Ding Qin didn’t answer Liu Yetao’s question. Her gaze fell into the dwelling Liu Yetao mentioned. A thin layer of dust had settled on the floor and furniture. By the looks of it, the occupants had been gone for several days.

“The people inside have left.” She said.

“Perhaps… perhaps it’s because I was discovered following before.” Liu Yetao said dejectedly, growing even more anxious and uneasy.

Bai Hong looked at her state and suddenly asked, “Do you dare try not lighting the lamps tonight?”

Liu Yetao hesitated, unable to make up her mind.

“We saw nothing wrong in this place or in those nine lamps.” Bai Hong continued. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. But in that case, we can only wait for your sister to return, and when she prepares to find the Mingdeng Sect people again, follow her to see.”

Liu Yetao bit her lip again. She didn’t want her sister to have more contact with the Mingdeng Sect. If she had to choose…

“Then… then tonight I won’t light the lamps. When she returns, I’ll say… I’ll say I was just too frightened. If she gets angry, if she gets angry… let her be angry once!”

Bai Hong looked at her and couldn’t help smiling, plucking a crane feather from between two fingers and handing it to Liu Yetao. “Keep it with you. Ordinary evil things won’t be able to harm you.”

Before she could thank her, Bai Hong waved a hand. “Go about your business.”

After Liu Yetao left, they saw Ding Qin pressing her temple, face wrinkled in pain. Bai Hong reached out to massage her temples. “What did you just see?”

“Not much. It might not be useful.” Ding Qin said breathlessly. Her head still ached.

Just now she had tried to look at the karma on Liu Yetao, but finding what she wanted from such dense karma was even harder than unraveling a specific thread from tangled silk. This was her first time observing karma on her own—she wasn’t very practiced, and her consciousness was considerably drained.

“I saw a blue bird with a white head and yellow feet, about…” She gestured the size with her hand, “…this big. Built like a crow.”

As Ding Qin spoke, thinking what she saw this time might be useless, she heard Bai Hong murmur. “Sounds somewhat familiar, like I’ve seen it somewhere…”

Bai Hong thought for a long while without results, then asked, “What else did you see?”

“Mm… I also heard a very distinctive sound, perhaps bird calls.” Ding Qin imitated them. “‘Qu ju, qu ju,’ roughly that sound.”

“Quju… it’s a Shijian!” Bai Hong said.

Ding Qin was confused for a moment. “Ah, right, Shijian does call like that.”

Bai Hong smiled while massaging her temples. “This bird’s name is Shijian—homophonous with its call.”

Ding Qin blinked, asking with interest. “How do you write it?”

Bai Hong knew Ding Qin had been studying, but these two characters were too obscure. She extended her hand and wrote the name Shijian on the table. “Shijian is also a rather rare spirit beast, though this bird doesn’t have any particularly good divine abilities.”

Bai Hong sighed slightly. “Shijian have very good memories and never forget anything. They… there is a bird whose form is like a crow, with white head, blue body, and yellow feet, named Shijian. Its name calls itself, and eating it prevents hunger. This describes Shijian.”

Ding Qin couldn’t help gasping in surprise, feeling compassion. “Then they… wouldn’t many people want to eat them?”

Bai Hong nodded: “Some heretical cultivators prefer shortcuts. Wanting to achieve bigu but unwilling to cultivate properly, they instead capture Shijian to eat.” Speaking of this, coldness appeared on her face.

In this world, living beings were numerous. There was no shortage of yizhong–creatures born with divine abilities. This was heaven-bestowed talent, yet due to others’ greed it became a death warrant. Like the green cash bug, like the Dream-eating Tapir, like Shijian.

“The cultivation path has no shortcuts. These people who prefer heretical side paths will sooner or later suffer backlash. Shijian are best at memory. Even after death, their souls will certainly follow whoever wrongfully killed them, waiting for an opportunity to take revenge.” Bai Hong said coolly.

“Liu Yetao doesn’t feel hunger. Could it be because she ate Shijian?” Ding Qin pondered.

“Since you saw Shijian on her body, it’s likely for this reason.” Bai Hong said, but grew puzzled. “If she ate Shijian, where is the Shijian’s soul?”

As a spirit beast, though Shijian’s divine abilities were weak, they were still stronger than ordinary beasts in various ways. Even after death, a Shijian’s soul wasn’t so easily dealt with. They wouldn’t constantly follow their enemy but would hide themselves, waiting for the right moment.

But Bai Hong was already an accomplished demon god, and Ding Qin was born with spirit eyes. What origins would a Shijian soul need to evade their sight? If it truly were such a formidable Shijian, how could it be eaten by an ordinary person?

“Could it be that Liu Yetao didn’t kill that Shijian—she only saw it, and by coincidence ate a bit of Shijian meat?” Ding Qin speculated.

They had both examined Liu Yetao. She was just an ordinary young woman. Killing a spirit beast would be far too difficult for her. In comparison, Liu Chuanyu, whom they still hadn’t met, seemed more likely. How she knew whether Liu Yetao had lit those nine lamps—Ding Qin still couldn’t figure it out.

“Perhaps.” Bai Hong said. “When Liu Chuanyu returns, we’ll know if that Shijian’s soul follows her.”

“Eating it prevents hunger…” Ding Qin sighed. “If we say before the great calamity this was just ordinary strange lore for people, now it would probably drive many mad.”

In the desert, fresh water is most precious. In famine, grain is most valuable. Hoarding, price-gouging, panic-buying—these were still not the most serious actions. More serious… more serious… under the need to survive, almost everything could be compromised, so there seemed to be nothing that couldn’t be done.

Whether the nine lamps and Liu Chuanyu’s changes were related to the Shijian matter remained unknown.

For the rest, they could only wait until nightfall to see if any changes occurred.

……

Night came quickly. Autumn nights were already quite cold. Liu Yetao sat wrapped in a quilt on the couch, with Ding Qin and Bai Hong accompanying her. Not one of the nine lamps was lit—the illumination came from an oil lamp Ding Qin had brought.

Strangely enough, in this same room with the same ordinary rapeseed oil, when Ding Qin lit this lamp, Liu Yetao felt not a trace of fear. That warm yellow firelight even made her feel some warmth in the cold night.

Though Liu Yetao also felt tense now, it was only because she hadn’t obeyed Liu Chuanyu’s instructions and hadn’t lit those nine lamps. Her tension came from fearing Liu Chuanyu would lose her temper when she found out. 

However, even if Liu Chuanyu truly knew as she said that she hadn’t lit the lamps, if she wanted to rush back, she would have to wait until after daybreak tomorrow. During the great calamity, Lu Kingdom had long imposed strict curfews. Going out secretly at this hour, without the ability to avoid patrol squads, if caught would mean being thrown in jail. Though this wasn’t a serious crime, getting out could take who knows how long.

The night temperature grew colder and colder. The wick in the lamp slowly shortened, the oil slowly consumed. The nine lamps remained unlit, with no changes occurring.

The night was truly too quiet. Few could resist the warmth of quilts, especially when Liu Yetao was already so exhausted. She finally couldn’t resist drowsiness, her head nodding bit by bit toward her chest, about to topple over.

Ding Qin supported her. Liu Yetao woke from this touch, asking groggily, “Ah? What happened?”

“You were about to fall asleep.” Ding Qin said.

“I was about to fall asleep, fall asleep… right, I can’t sleep, I’ll hold on a bit longer, I…” Liu Yetao began rubbing her eyes unclearly, struggling terribly.

Seeing her truly exhausted, Ding Qin said, “You sleep. Nothing’s wrong. If something happens we’ll call you. Don’t sleep sitting—lie down.”

Liu Yetao was helped to slowly shift and lie down. Her eyes couldn’t stay open, still mumbling, “I… I’ll just sleep a little while, you wake me…”

Ding Qin was about to laugh when she suddenly felt Bai Hong’s aura change beside her.

The crane god’s eyes, which had been lazily half-closed from boredom, were now fully open, divine light shining in pupils black as ink dots, staring far in one direction, her entire aura taut.

Liu Yetao was startled awake by this aura, even her drowsiness half-gone. Nervously, she opened her eyes again.

“What is it?” Ding Qin asked while turning to follow Bai Hong’s gaze. “That is…”

“A Shijian’s soul?”

……

Ten thousand li away, within Lu Kingdom’s borders, in another temple for wandering ghosts.

The furnishings had been changed, doors and walls bore old marks, but from the surrounding environment and building structure, one could easily tell this was the temple where the old man had studied wood carving for a night.

Wild grass had long grown between tiles and bricks, casting desolate shadows in the moonlight at night. This temple had long been devoid of human presence, yet now lamplight burned within.

Seven hours earlier, just as daylight broke, a clear breeze visited this long-abandoned temple.

The clear breeze touched ground and transformed into a cultivator in dark green robes carrying a qin case. He looked up at the temple’s plaque, swept away old dust with a sleeve wave, and stepped into the temple.

The table’s old lacquer had peeled, narrow window openings let in little light, and nameless ash urns stood in corners.

This was a most desolate place, yet the green-robed cultivator who entered seemed utterly oblivious. The thick layer of dust that had settled everywhere had been swept away by his earlier sleeve wave. Now he casually chose a spot to sit, looking quite at ease.

Afterward, he placed the qin across his lap but didn’t open the case. His fingers pressed in the air as if plucking strings. His eyes were half-open, half-closed, impossible to tell where he was looking.

He sat thus from the dawn’s misty indistinctness until deep night when cold dew condensed, except for occasionally moving his fingers and lighting a lamp near nightfall, remaining almost completely still and silent.

Even when small ghosts in the temple deliberately made faces before him, swaying and playing about, he seemed completely unaware. Eventually even these curious little ghosts lost interest and went about their own business, leaving only two child-like ghosts still persisting at the “scaring people” game.

“Hey, do you think he can actually see us or not?”

They crouched before Li Chi. One ghost, tired of making faces, extended a finger to poke the other beside him, asking in a thin voice.

“How would I know?” The other had been forcibly pulled over to crouch here, wrinkling his face in extreme unwillingness. “Why do you keep studying him? He doesn’t move or speak—what’s interesting about that?”

“He’s formidable! Didn’t you see when he came in, he swept this whole place clean with one sleeve wave?” the former said.

“Maybe that’s his only trick?” The latter wrinkled his nose. “If he were really formidable, why doesn’t he react to us at all? Maybe he can’t even see or hear us—his cultivation is still far lacking!”

The former pouted unconvinced. “I don’t believe it. I must try again!”

“Hey! What are you trying to do?” The latter urgently pulled him back. “The teacher forbids us from disturbing people!”

“I won’t do anything excessive, I’ll just…” As the former spoke, his gaze moved to Li Chi’s face and his voice suddenly caught.

Those half-open, half-closed eyes had at some point fully opened, their gaze falling upon him transparent and bright. “Who is your teacher?”

“Aiya!” Both little ghosts startled, scrambling behind the offering table to hide.

Li Chi smiled, set the qin aside, rose fluidly, his gaze falling on an utterly unremarkable ash urn in the corner:

“Night has deepened, the guest has waited long—why has the host not yet appeared?”

In the empty, quiet temple, a long sigh suddenly sounded.