Chapter 86: Delicious Osmanthus Cake

She did not love tears for the sake of tears.

As the master in a Master-Servant Oath, there was an inherent contradiction and a barrier of trust between them. Because of the oath, she trusted him most—even knowing the oath was the reason, she couldn't help but lower some of her guard in daily life. Yet, because of the oath, she would not trust him completely—how could she know if the things he said were merely compromises made for the sake of the vow?

It was a tangle, impossible to unravel.

She never thought about clarifying it; if he were to break the Master-Servant Oath himself in the future, she would do her utmost to defeat him to prevent any complications. If he did not break it, she would be surprised by his choice and assume he simply wished to follow her out of a servant's loyalty, yet the oath would remain a chasm between them.

It was an unsolvable problem. To make her realize his feelings or stop for him for even a moment was a feat of impossibility.

Thus, Zora’s flawed, exceptionally naive, and stubborn perception actually carved a clever opening. At the very least, from childhood until now, she firmly believed that tears were a sincere expression of true emotion, an expression that could not be faked. Up until now, no one had seen through this to deceive her.

Zora had once, on a whim, carefully examined his face, but this time she looked into his eyes. They were like a moonless, starless night; even stained with tears, they remained an impenetrable darkness, save for his damp lashes. He cried with an introverted silence—a weeping that, if one did not look at him, would go entirely unnoticed.

This time was different from Tao County. Before he could limp toward the sealing ground, Zhou Shijin arrived just in time. And this time, he was utterly powerless.

"If you maintain your current speed of cultivation, you could surpass Immortal Zhou—even the Sword Sovereign." After a long silence, his tears stopped, and his tone became eerily calm, fixed on her with a near-obsessive gaze. He said word for word: "Even if there is a bottleneck, you can soar to success in the future. Bottlenecks are temporary; everyone experiences them."

Zora recovered her senses. Though her heart was still beating fast, it hadn't reached a level that influenced her judgment. She said flatly, "What if I am surpassed by you?"

"..." Vane was stunned, then said, "Perhaps not. Even if that happens, you can in turn surpass me once again."

Zora frowned. "But that would be a waste of time."

What time would be wasted? Perhaps the time remaining for Zhou Shijin? He didn't know; his sense of urgency didn't allow him to ask and clarify sentence by sentence.

Vane had never considered slowing his own cultivation of his own volition. A victory granted by another is no victory at all. Both were clear-sighted and possessed immense pride. The youth knew what constituted the most comfortable interaction, what kind of concession would satisfy her most, and what kind of concession was strictly forbidden.

Vane actually agreed with Zora’s current behavior; he simply wished that she would take him with her. That was all. He feared her death, but feared even more her dying in a place he could not reach, their corpses worlds apart, never to meet.

Vane: "Then, if there is even the slightest sign that I intend to harm you, you can kill me immediately."

The seawater had already reached his chest. The youth's ponytail drifted in the water, looking as beautiful as seaweed.

"Is your brain broken?" She felt these weren't words he should be saying, yet looking him over, she didn't think his brain seemed damaged. Though he had cried, Vane regained his composure quickly; his face only revealed a corner of his massive emotions, which Zora naturally couldn't see through.

She thought for a moment and shook her head. "No. It's too much trouble to have to watch you every moment. And you are very smart; I am not good at reading people."

Moreover, he was the original villain; she didn't know what variables might arise. Neither could accept the other making a deliberate concession in cultivation. They were more accustomed to actively removing obstacles than waiting in place, and they shared no disagreement on the matter of direct killing; they didn't possess that much kindness.

She just found it troublesome, and it wasn't her forte.

"And it's not entirely because of you. I simply cannot endure the stagnation of a bottleneck," Zora said naturally. "Even without you, I would still enter."

"I know that, but—" His words were forced to a halt.

The seawater flooded in, and the youth was swept into a whirlpool. He kept his eyes open in the water, forced away.

Wait—!

Wait a little longer...

He wanted to go with her; he didn't want to be apart. A heavy longing had submerged him from head to toe before they were even separated.

The current, tainted by demonic Qi and the Sword Sovereign’s intent, swept him away. His black hair drifted in the water, his forehead hair lifting to reveal his entire face; his tear tracks dissolved. His dark eyes watched the girl grow smaller and smaller, his brow pressed low, his hands unable to grasp anything.

Zora even gave him a small wave, a very polite farewell. If Zhou Shijin had seen it, she would have been gratified that Zora had finally learned the common social graces she repeatedly mentioned.

Once Vane was out of sight, she touched her chest again.

She seemed to feel a bit of reluctance... the emotion wasn't very intense, like a fish blowing bubbles that surfaced and popped, but for Zora, it was a massive influence and change. She examined this emotion almost with treasure and curiosity, whether it was negative or positive.

But none of this could stop her steps. The girl waited quietly in place for a moment. She was waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal, even patting her chest to make it faster. Once her heart returned to its original state, she turned around, stepped over the mountain of corpses, and entered the secret realm step by step.

Led by the Sword Sovereign, Drunken Lu Bay successfully suppressed the surging demonic cultivators and monsters. His strength was evident; even though Wanghua-jun arrived a bit late, leaving a few more corpses on the ground, the delay was actually very short and went unnoticed by the crowd.

Only Zhou Shijin crossed her arms and glanced over for an instant.

The Sword Sovereign was surrounded by admirers, yet no one dared to truly approach him, offering their thanks from a hundred meters away. The Sect Leader of Drunken Lu Bay naturally approached him, saying, "Many thanks to the Sword Sovereign for your assistance."

"It was nothing." The man remained as indifferent as a frozen lotus. After speaking, he seemed to glance in a certain direction before flashing away and vanishing.

Zhou Shijin followed his gaze; it was Turi Qi, who was helping the wounded cultivators. She raised an eyebrow with interest. Zhou Shijin wasn't interested in those emotions; she was interested in the reason for Wanghua-jun’s late arrival. It likely wasn't a hiccup in his cultivation, and looking at it, it seemed related to his disciple, Turi Qi.

Quite the luck, Zora.

Zhou Shijin smiled. While the crowd surged toward the Sword Sovereign’s position or chaotically cleaned up the aftermath, the woman stood alone on a rock, her features relaxed and leisurely. No one noticed her.

To snatch the crown of the Number One Sword Cultivator, a battle with the current Number One was inevitable; this was an iron rule formed over a long time. Because Wanghua-jun was in the sect and Zora was also in the sect, as their abilities rose, power would lean toward them. It would be fine if both were uninterested in such troublesome matters, but that Wanghua-jun now had some stray thoughts and desires; there was no guarantee he wouldn't clash with Zora.

But that was a matter for a long, long time from now.

Zhou Shijin looked across the sea. A youth in black was stabbing his long spear into the ground, leaning on the handle and coughing over the soil. His lowered face couldn't be seen; his soaked robes dampened the earth, and his damp ponytail clung to his back. He was truly a mess, yet he possessed a subtle fragility.

Zhou Shijin cast a few light glances. Jin Chuyang had originally intended to go over, but stopped halfway. Someone blocked him, handing him some items with reddened eyes.

—It seemed to be the spiritual tool of his disciple who died in the Demon Realm over a decade ago. It had been possessed by an unknown demon who happened to be alive and sealed in the Bright Mirror Sea. Now that the seal was broken, the tool had been brought over.

Jin Chuyang was momentarily dazed as he took the familiar object. He remembered the past and his hatred for the Demon Realm. His whip still bore the blood of countless demons from just now, yet he felt it wasn't enough. Not enough; his anger had not yet ceased.

Jin Chuyang composed himself: "Thank you."

"There is no need for thanks, Immortal Jin." The person bowed to him and left, their expression also somewhat somber. Both were grieving for disciples lost in the Demon Realm.

A moment later, Jin Chuyang snapped back to his senses and remembered his purpose, but when he looked over again, it was too late. The youth was no longer there. Vane had walked toward Zhou Shijin. Jin Chuyang paused. His disciple likely had business with Zhou Shijin and it was inconvenient to disturb. Thus, Jin Chuyang put away the tool and did not step forward.

...

Zhou Shijin looked at the youth with slight surprise. Vane's expression had already returned to a calm composure. He never showed weakness before outsiders, even speaking with a flat, seemingly respectful tone: "Immortal Zhou."

Zhou Shijin: "What is it?" She thought he was going to ask why she let Zora enter such a dangerous realm as the Wave Husk Secret Realm, yet she heard an inexplicable inquiry.

"...Why did Zora not take me with her?" He showed a bit of confusion.

"Oh?" Zhou Shijin said. "I thought

you

were the one who understood Zora best."

Vane lowered his eyes. His brain, dulled by Zora's departure, began to turn. He paused and said, "...She has never had the awareness to take others along, and she fears trouble."

Don't you know that perfectly well?

Zhou Shijin curled her lips in amusement.

Is his brain muddled? It feels like his body hasn't caught up with his thoughts.

He thanked her calmly and was about to leave when Zhou Shijin called out to him, smiling. "Do you want to be stuck to my disciple every single moment? Even in such a perilous secret realm, even if it means dying together?"

Vane's expression didn't change, but his attitude was exceptionally clear. He said, "I am her servant."

Trying to hide the obvious.

Zhou Shijin spoke leisurely: "But you aren't her accessory, not the hairpin on her head, not a dog, and not an inanimate object. You are a person—no matter what you consider yourself to be to her, whether a dog or an accessory, she will still guard against you as a person."

"Cultivation is inherently perilous; it is a solitary endeavor. If you want to follow her at every moment, you have to see if Zora agrees. A living person following her into a secret realm—she can't help but guard against him obtaining some opportunity, throwing off his servant status, and stabbing her in the back. Wouldn't you say?"

"Of course, I am only guessing. I don't know what goes on in that disciple of mine's head." Zhou Shijin thought to herself.

It's quite possible that disciple of mine didn't think much at all.

It was a blatant suspicion, yet she used a perfectly open tone.

Vane, however, agreed with her exceptionally: "It is indeed so."

"..." Now even Zhou Shijin looked at him with a strange expression, before trying to say, "Besides, Zora doesn't like someone being so clingy, does she? She doesn't understand romance to begin with; don't make her find you annoying first. Watch your boundaries."

"This disciple understands."

"..."

The air around him had long been dried by spiritual power. The youth turned and walked toward the exit. Zhou Shijin watched his back, feeling he looked like a sorrowful, abandoned dog with an inexplicable sense of loss, despite his surface lack of emotion.

"Eh, I won't think about him." Zhou Shijin immediately threw him to the back of her mind and flew back to the sect on her sword. "I remember the soul lamp was hung under the eaves." She found the soul lamp Zora had casually placed, brought it into the house, and muttered: "You'd better stay alive and come out early."

Usually, in this type of secret realm, one doesn't come out for decades.

Don't be too late, or you won't even be able to collect your Master's corpse.

A few days after Jin Chuyang returned to the sect, he naturally learned that Zora had entered the Wave Husk Secret Realm. Everyone in the sect felt regret and shock. He let out a sigh, stroking the body of his whip.

Too hasty, as if something were chasing her. Is it because Zhou Shijin's lifespan is nearing its end?

But Zhou Shijin's enemies—those who ambushed her or had old grudges—had all been eliminated by her personally; logically, there was no need to worry about the disciple's safety after the Master was gone.

Or was it—Jin Chuyang lifted his eyes, his gaze seemingly piercing through all things to "look" at the youth ten thousand miles away.

It's the youth, whose growth remains rapid, who is urging her.

After all, the puppet threads were a protection, but also a hidden danger. Vigilance was only natural. Jin Chuyang pondered for a while, then overturned this guess. He could still see what his disciple was like; no one was more loyal than his disciple. Jin Chuyang leaned more toward the idea that Zora had a wild ambition to become strong.

...

Ten thousand miles away, the green trees offered ample shade. A man kowtowed until his forehead was bruised and bleeding, yet his face was full of tearful gratitude: "Thank you, Immortal! Thank you, Immortal, for the rescue!"

After kowtowing for an unknown amount of time, the man felt dizzy and lightheaded. He huddled and looked up. Aside from the corpses of the cultivators who had acted willfully because of their slight cultivation, there was no one. The benefactor had already left.

The man instantly relaxed, drenched in cold sweat. Although the spear-wielding cultivator had saved him, the youth hadn't looked at him once throughout the entire process, treating him as if he didn't exist. His method of killing was simple and crude; he didn't use the immortal-like spells of other cultivators. He crudely used the spear to pierce the enemy's chest or brow, or to flick off their head.

The youth also didn't show the righteous indignation of other cultivators, saying nothing of anger or comfort to the man. He didn't speak a word, as if fulfilling a task. He was silent, and after the killing, he spoke with polite refinement. There was clearly no baleful aura, and his appearance was exceptionally handsome, yet he was far too lifeless, as calm as a pool of stagnant water.

This pool of stagnant water made the man's legs shake; he felt more fear than when facing evil cultivators. As soon as the youth spoke, the man had hurriedly knelt to kowtow and offer thanks. Only after confirming the spear cultivator had left did the man collapse and hurriedly take stock of which belongings he had lost.

...

Resolved a few more cultivators. Not strong. The monsters and cultivators he encountered these few days were not strong. He wanted to kill someone more powerful—

Vane neurotically rubbed the viscous blood on his finger pads, his expression normal. He had to step up his cultivation. Unlike when he was outside the secret realm, his brain had recovered its ability to think, yet it was filled with obsession, and a question revolved in his mind.

A servant with low cultivation has no value. A servant who needs the master's protection and cannot protect the master will eventually be discarded. He needed to become even more powerful.

The youth lowered his eyes, looking at his palm. Massive life force was contained within the veins of his wrist, flowing steadily without a trace of weakening. But he still had to be extremely cautious; he couldn't seek death. His life could only vanish due to Zora's death.

He feared her death, yet his heart grew to believe implicitly over time that she would succeed. Even though the entire sect already regarded her as a dead person. In time, the Zora who returned would surely have soaring cultivation, and he absolutely could not fall behind.

Killing and cultivating without rest, sleeping in the open, like an animal without a home, wandering everywhere, occasionally returning to the sect. This should have left the youth with no leisure to think of other things.

But once he stopped his steps—even just stopping to look at a flower, eat a piece of osmanthus cake, speak a few words to Song Zhihuai and the others, or habitually wipe his spear—he would think of her.

What was she doing? What was the situation like inside the Wave Husk Secret Realm? What did she encounter? What did she see? What did she hear?

He recalled their memories together every day and night, and they became increasingly clear. Cultivating, killing, longing—day after day, repeating the same life. If not for the changes in his cultivation, Vane would have felt in a daze that nothing was changing, that everything had stopped.

It was as if his time had stood still because of her departure; the youth stopped in the torrent was waiting for her return, waiting for her to make his time flow once more. Memories were the only things that were vivid.

After a long time, his state of mind barely shed its numbness, and he began to ponder another question he hadn't noticed at the time.

—The "I like it very much" Zora had said outside the Wave Husk Secret Realm. Zora's expression at that time—

The enemy's head had been torn off, rolling a long way. The corpse's skin was flayed open like a blooming flower of blood. The person who had been saved was trembling with fear, but Vane was oblivious, withdrawing his spear, lost in thought.

What was she thinking? Did she like him crying very much?

Vane soon realized her exceptionally innocent and romantic perception. She seemed to place great weight on tears. Zora's expression when looking at him then was like seeing a piece of delicious osmanthus cake—devoid of any aggression, a sincere and direct affection.