Chapter 111: Nails

—Even if he entered the Dao of Heartlessness, he would likely still help his friends when they were in trouble.

This was Song Zhihuai's thought before entering his path; for this reason, he had even set a self-imposed constraint. Even if the version of himself on the path of heartlessness possessed indifferent feelings, he would be driven by this constraint to help his friends.

The cold pond was chilling, with spiritual power surging in the surroundings, forming milky white cloud-like strips that solidified in mid-air. This was a glimpse granted to him by the Heavenly Dao after his enlightenment; thus, the heavens surged, and spiritual power gained physical form.

Song Zhihuai had never been so calm. The annoying inner demons had completely vanished, leaving his entire body with an indescribable lightness. Everything before him was clear; the dullness of his spiritual platform was swept away.

He was naturally suited for such a Dao.

Song Zhihuai did not leave immediately; instead, he took the opportunity to meditate and cultivate. After a long time, he finally stepped out, leaving the Mizi Realm.

Atop the mountain peak, the wind rose and clouds surged. Song Zhihuai looked out at the faintly visible mountains, a tiny sliver of joy surfacing in his heart. It was time to see his friends.

This thought was not particularly urgent, and the joy was merely a shallow layer—not enough to make him smile, but enough to make his mood a bit more pleasant. He wondered how Junior Sister Zora was doing; he remembered she had only recently emerged from the secret realm when he entered seclusion.

Even in the Dao of Heartlessness, even with indifferent emotions, there were levels of feeling. Song Zhihuai favored Zora more, so he went to the December Sect first.

Then, he learned that Junior Sister Zora had killed a group of elders and defected. Junior Brother Vane’s identity as a member of the Demon Realm had also been exposed, and he had been kidnapped by people from the Demon Realm.

Song Zhihuai: "..."

There were ripples, but not many.

The disciple being questioned had originally thought Senior Brother Song would be filled with righteous indignation, or at least show some anger toward Zora's actions. Who knew he would remain so calm—not a single word of judgment was uttered.

Mistakenly, the disciple misunderstood this as silent trust and sighed in relief: "...But recently, there have been rumors that Junior Sister Zora only acted out of indignation after discovering the evil secrets of the elders, effectively eliminating a public scourge."

...Is Junior Sister Zora a character of such extreme justice?

Song Zhihuai thought with a cold face.

The disciple, unaware that Song Zhihuai had entered the Dao of Heartlessness, even smiled: "I suppose Senior Brother Song isn't angry because he believes Junior Sister Zora isn't the type of person to be cold-blooded and ruthless."

...Is Junior Sister Zora not cold-blooded and ruthless?

Song Zhihuai continued to think coldly.

Actually, no. The state of mind of those who are truly ruthless is exceptionally murky; Junior Sister Zora was simply very decisive.

In that case, there was nothing for him to do. Since Zora was unharmed and had successfully escaped, Song Zhihuai politely took his leave.

The December Sect was currently in a state of faint turbulence, with several sects watching like tigers, attempting to tear off a piece of meat. Even a few scraps falling from the premier sect would be enough to make smaller sects live better.

But even without the elders, there were still many disciples of the December Sect. And there was still the Sword Sovereign, Wanghua-jun; no one dared to trespass against the sect's great array. Wanghua-jun’s fiancée, Wang Ling, possessed a kind heart; it was heard she had sent many spiritual tools and medicines to the December Sect, truly showing no fear of rumors. The reputation of her throughout the sect was better than ever.

Everyone thought she was doing it for her fiancé, Wanghua-jun.

Only Ling Zhihuan let out a light laugh while holding a paper listing a long string of items.

Turi Qi was somewhat uneasy, frowning as she said: "I don't know what Master Wang's intention is in sending me so many precious spiritual items..."

Indeed, while these numerous items were ostensibly given to the December Sect, they were actually intended for Turi Qi alone.

"Wang Ling isn't stupid," Ling Zhihuan folded the list and handed it to her, a smile on her lips. "Giving things to Wanghua-jun is just throwing money into the water; it won't earn a shred of goodwill or benefit. Rather than giving to me, it's better to give to the next Sect Leader, to fawningly pledge allegiance."

Turi Qi was stunned. She hadn't expected that even though Ling Zhihuan hadn't yet revealed the news of abdication, Wang Ling had already guessed it, and even correctly identified the person.

At least the outside world mostly did not believe Turi Qi would be the next Sect Leader. She was restricted by her identity as the Sword Sovereign's disciple; people always assumed she would focus solely on the Dao. Even after becoming the Chief of the Sword Gate, they still felt her ultimate destination would be like the Sword Sovereign's—fully devoted to the sword.

Unfortunately, she was not. What she sought and thought was not merely the Dao of ordinary cultivators.

Ling Zhihuan: "How is that matter proceeding?"

Turi Qi regained her focus and said solemnly: "We have discovered evidence of the crimes of Elder Wu's faction. We can follow the vine to find the melon."

Ling Zhihuan nodded imperceptibly.

"Song Zhihuai has also returned. Though the sect's strength has not yet been severely damaged, if Zora and Vane were still here..." She shook her head and said no more.

Turi Qi did not say much, gave a bow, and took her leave. She walked out of the hall, unfolded the list again, and scanned it once more.

Turi Qi knew what the Sect Leader was regretting. With Zora and Vane, the sect would have been even more glorious.

Now, Vane’s reputation had hit rock bottom. When various sects gathered, some even passionately spoke out, urging other sects to send people into the Demon Realm to capture Vane. Because the demonic Qi had become increasingly scarce since the end of the war decades ago, the cultivation speed of demonic cultivators seemed to have been severely affected. No geniuses had appeared, and until now, no great powerhouses had emerged.

Vane was the exception in the Demon Realm; those people had to be wary.

—This was something Turi Qi only learned now; no one proactively mentioned such news.

Looking at it from another perspective, Junior Sister Zora should be living quite well. After all, there were not many in the Demon Realm who could beat her.

Once all the evidence was gathered, she would certainly restore a path of retreat for her junior sister.

Zora, unaware that she was considered top-tier strength in the Demon Realm, was still searching for enemies in the void. She knew the immortal gates hadn't suppressed the Demon Realm further because no outstanding demonic cultivators had caused trouble, but she didn't relax. What if they were lying in wait? Just like evil spirits, one never knows where they come from. Better to take it step by step and see.

...

In recent days, a pair of powerful youths had arrived at the Heaven-Opening Stage. With a 100% win rate and terrifying speed, they climbed upward.

Here, winning a match earned some small change; killing an opponent doubled the money. Soon, Zora had accumulated a pile of copper coins—including Vane's.

In the dim arena, the girl had no weapon. When her opponent rushed over, she kicked his knee, then snapped his neck in the blink of an eye. Zora didn't use spiritual power or a weapon; she lifted the enemy, who was filled with killing intent mixed with fear, and with a faint "crack," the man's head went limp.

Amidst the silence of the onlookers, she released her hand, and the man fell limply, his limbs in a disordered heap. It was nearly an instantaneous event. Since the first match, this girl had been taking lives in a heartbeat.

Zora only set a limit for herself to fight a maximum of twenty matches a day. She turned her head; nineteen corpses were piled up outside the stage like trophies. These corpses were handled every few hours. Including the one before her, today was enough.

Zora turned around. Vane was near the circular platform; he seemed to have timed his wait perfectly. As she stepped down, those who earned tips by fawning over the victors found no opening, because the youth had taken over all her miscellaneous chores.

Upon leaving, there were too many people and it was too crowded, so Zora took his hand. Vane's movement paused for a second, then he continued to block the crowd as usual.

Vane said softly: "I didn't hand over the corpse from the neighboring room to the Beast Stage. They still think that person is alive. Since he damaged the wall, the room next door cannot be given to anyone else."

He was talking about a night three days ago. Zora was sleeping alone in her room, the bed against the wall. In the dead of night, the person next door, harborous ill intent, had been using tools to drill through the wall. He had started drilling when she put out her candle to sleep, finally breaking through in the middle of the night. He was clearly an expert; using a thin layer of demonic Qi, he had made no sound.

When a nail poked a tip through the wall on Zora's side and faint wall debris fell onto her quilt, Zora finally woke up muddled.

"?"

Eyes blurry with sleep, she didn't care much. She simply pressed her finger against it, and the nail was instantly pushed back, even piercing through the other person's palm. Before he could scream, the nail continued on to pierce through his collarbone.

Thud!

The blood-stained nail sank into another part of the wall and didn't move again, the sharp end facing out, while the blunt end sank in inch by inch.

"..." The man was dumbfounded, seemingly unable to believe he had been pierced by a nail just like that. Blood burst from his vessels, spraying onto the ceiling in an instant. He opened his mouth weakly and finally fell over.

Zora turned over and continued sleeping, forgetting about the corpse the next day. Fortunately, Vane habitually screened the riff-raff around her, otherwise the corpse would have started to rot.

Zora nodded: "Are you moving in?"

"..." Vane paused. Only after they reached her quarters did he speak. "...Can we... stay together?"

Zora glanced at him.

Vane said steadily: "...After all, the Beast Stage is a mixed bag of dragons and snakes."

Zora agreed simply: "Okay."

Vane paused in a strange way before immediately saying: "Good."

He went to his own room to pack. Zora sat in a chair, scribbling on a piece of paper. Beside it was an ink-wash bamboo painting Vane had done with great character; in the painting was a young girl leaning against a rock, pure and innocent.

Zora looked at it, suddenly recalling the scene earlier of Vane waiting in the crowd, and how the people around him automatically gave him a wide berth. She seemed to see him the very first moment she turned around every time.

He was very dutiful. She liked a servant like this. Upon her liking as a Master, she would develop trust and add some other feelings.

Zora thought about it and added a few strokes with the brush. A painting that originally felt like a "spring breeze on the brush" instantly turned into a work with a bizarre art style. Since she couldn't find empty space on the ground, she hung Vane on the tip of the bamboo—and it was exceptionally crude, looking like a dark ghostly shadow.

When Vane returned, Zora even showed it to him. "Look, it's you I painted."

Vane, with a smile on his lips, finished looking at the figure hanging himself from the bamboo and thanked her sincerely: "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Zora admired it herself once more before giving the painting to him.

Vane tucked the painting away carefully, his smile unchanging. To think of painting him was, for Zora, a high honor for Vane. She had a certain liking for him, but her liking was not constant; Vane naturally knew when to take another step.

He looked down at her and said: "Can I kiss you?"

Zora glanced at him again. It wasn't an illusion; since coming to the Demon Realm, Vane was truly getting stranger and stranger. He no longer pretended to be some kind, righteous gentleman of the sect.

Zora gave an "mhm": "Okay." She even stepped closer and tilted her face up. "Here."

The youth, however, did not kiss her cheek. Lowering his lashes, he left a kiss on her forehead. His dark eyes, usually shadowed, were now filled with fragments of light.

"Thank you," he said once more.

Zora watched his neck, which had been within reach and was now a bit further away. She seemed attracted to that spot, staring at it while saying: "You're welcome."

Then she rubbed her forehead. It was itchy, a different feeling from a kiss on the cheek. Her heartbeat quickened a bit. Zora beckoned to him, like calling a puppy.

Vane submissively lowered his body, and she followed her heart to hug him like a koala, nearly hitting his chin.

His heart felt a surge of itchiness. Vane suppressed it and pursed his lips; both his arms were held by her, making him unable to move. Zora pressed her forehead against his neck and rubbed it to relieve the itch. She also liked being this close; as sentiments grew, she would use her instincts to please herself.

After a long while, Vane spoke: "...Is it very itchy?"

"Yes. Next time, don't kiss so lightly. It's too itchy."

Zora paused. Their skin rubbed together; his neck was again exceptionally warm. Her forehead felt a bit hot too.

Vane pursed his lips, his lashes trembling as he let her hold him: "...I'm sorry."

Zora carried a faint scent of blood, but more prominent was her own unique, indescribable fragrance. The youth's face took on a thin flush. It wasn't shyness, but a sudden surge of pleasure and excitement.

Excitement at being close to her.

Excitement at the way she was gradually looking toward him.

Everyone says those in love are blinded by a single leaf, but Vane was the exact opposite, unlike ordinary people. He could never become one of those self-important people, nor could he ever agree with those who assume someone loves them to the bone just because that person sacrificed for them.

If you love her, why don't you understand her? Why would you misunderstand her? Even if Zora was good to him, he could tell it wasn't romantic love, because he understood her.

Before emotion could burn out his brain and affect his judgment, he was more quickly attracted to her, falling into an obsession. It was an involuntary attempt to understand her and explore her true nature.

The youth had seven apertures in his heart and understood human nature deeply. While his head was spinning from being frantically attracted to her, he was also exceptionally calm in understanding her intent amidst the chaos. While he was anxious about gains and losses, he also knew her nature perfectly. While doubting his own judgment, he also steadily reached a conclusion.

Before, he knew she had no feelings for him. Now, he also knew she had a shallow liking. However, he always needed to judge at every moment to fill his hollow sense of security. He struggled with himself when she was indifferent to him, and he couldn't help but want more when she developed a liking for him.

He was both calm and chaotic, both rational and frantically mad. The contradictions tore him apart, yet like a beast, they quickly pointed out a correct path to get closer to her.

That was why he was her only servant, and why he was the only person she liked. He could make her feel, naturally, that he was safe enough to use at will.

He belonged to her.