Chapter 121: A Familiar Face
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan, cautious, waited outside the hut.
Lü Qingyan crouched by the doorway, pulling at the grass, a small bald patch forming beside her. Bai Jingxue leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, seemingly asleep, but she was discreetly observing Lü Qingyan.
The door opened, and Luo Nianshang emerged.
Lü Qingyan, concerned about the Demon Lord, jumped to her feet. “Is she okay?” she asked, her voice filled with anxiety.
Luo Nianshang nodded, her extra hands gone, her clothes torn and stained. She had spare clothes in her spatial ring, but her magic was useless here.
She had always been mindful of her appearance, her status demanding a certain decorum. She fidgeted with her robe, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Bai Jingxue, noticing her discomfort, understood. Cang Xi was probably plastered with wanted posters. Returning to the city would be dangerous.
It was a shame there were no needles and thread here. She could have helped.
The young woman who had healed the Demon Lord emerged from the hut, her smile bright, her voice teasing. “A half-demon cultivator in love with a demon cultivator,” she said, her gaze lingering on Luo Nianshang. “How interesting.”
She extended a hand, her smile widening. “I’m Qu Ying,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her sudden change in attitude surprised them. She had been so reluctant to help earlier.
They exchanged glances, then Bai Jingxue, taking Qu Ying’s hand, her own smile polite, said, “Bai Jingxue. The pleasure is all mine.”
Qu Ying’s smile faltered as their palms met, her expression shifting rapidly, then settling on a cautious excitement. “Do you know what a cell phone is?” she asked. “Or a train?”
Handshakes weren’t a custom in this world. She had a theory.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan’s eyes widened simultaneously, and Lü Qingyan, her voice filled with an excited disbelief, exclaimed, “You’re also from another world?!”
Hearing that familiar term, Qu Ying’s heart soared. After countless disappointments, she had finally found her people.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she cried out, “Fellow earthlings! I’ve finally found you!”
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan, their initial surprise giving way to joy, exchanged smiles. Lü Qingyan, her cheerful personality, instantly connected with Qu Ying, their conversation flowing effortlessly.
Bai Jingxue, however, less talkative, simply listened.
Since they were all transmigrators, their conversation naturally turned to their respective journeys. To their surprise, Qu Ying’s experience mirrored Bai Jingxue’s. She had also fallen into water after a doctor’s visit, waking up in the body of a bird.
But she had been fortunate. The bird had already gained sentience, saving her the trouble of cultivating from scratch. In this barren land, with its scarce resources, she might have remained a bird forever.
They settled down by a small stream behind the hut, their voices a low murmur as they shared their stories. Luo Nianshang stayed with the Demon Lord.
“You’re saying they’re Luo Nianshang and Qiu Yingxi?!”
Qu Ying’s voice was filled with disbelief. She had been shocked by the male lead’s death, then by the revelation of Luo Nianshang and the Demon Lord’s relationship. And the female lead was half-demon?!
She pinched herself, then, convinced she wasn’t dreaming, she took a deep breath, staring at Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan with a newfound respect. “You’re amazing,” she said. “This is what a transmigrator should do. Not like me, hiding and running.”
Bai Jingxue frowned. “Who’s chasing you?”
Qu Ying’s cheerful demeanor vanished, and she punched the air, her frustration evident. “All demons, good or bad, are considered a threat in Cang Xi,” she said. “The original owner of this body was killed because of that. And when I took over, it seems I angered the Flower Goddess. I had to flee, then I found this place and destroyed the statue here.”
She picked up a stone, tossing it into the stream. It landed with a soft plop, creating ripples on the surface of the water. She sighed.
“The Flower Goddess was the one who brought me here,” she said, her voice laced with a bitter confusion. “But she pretends not to know me. I don’t understand.”
Bai Jingxue, her ears twitching, hearing a crucial piece of information, asked, “You’re saying the Flower Goddess brought you here? Are you sure?”
Qu Ying, also puzzled, nodded. “Didn’t she do the same for you?” she asked. “She even granted me a wish.”
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan exchanged a look. Neither of them had any such memories.
Lü Qingyan shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “What did you wish for?”
Qu Ying’s usual cheerfulness vanished, her smile replaced by a bitter sadness. “I wished to live,” she said quietly.
Bai Jingxue was about to ask another question, but seeing Qu Ying’s distant gaze, she stopped.
She was good at reading people’s emotions. She suspected Qu Ying was remembering something unpleasant. In such situations, it was best to change the subject.
Remembering the tear in Luo Nianshang’s robe, she asked, “Do you have any needles and thread?”
Qu Ying did. Bai Jingxue borrowed them, then returned to the hut, finding Luo Nianshang sitting beside the Demon Lord, a bowl of steaming medicine in her hand.
Luo Nianshang was trying to feed the Demon Lord, who was frowning, her distaste for the medicine evident. Luo Nianshang, seeing this, touched the spoon to her own lips, then offered it to the Demon Lord again, her voice flat. “It’s not hot.”
The medicine wasn’t hot, but the Demon Lord’s face was burning. Is this an indirect kiss? she wondered.
Realizing her thoughts were ridiculous, she quickly took the medicine.
It wasn’t as bitter as she had expected.
But tears still welled up in her eyes. She looked up at Luo Nianshang, her expression pitiful, resembling a spoiled noblewoman rather than the fearsome Demon Lord.
Luo Nianshang, her hand tightening around the bowl, felt a strange sense of familiarity. She offered another spoonful, observing the Demon Lord’s behavior, then her eyes widened in shock. The Demon Lord’s mannerisms were identical to Hong Ying’s.
Her hand trembled, and the bowl slipped, nearly falling, then she steadied it, her reflexes honed by centuries of training. She would have to brew another batch if she spilled this one.
The Demon Lord, seeing her near-miss, her voice filled with concern, asked, “Are you alright?”
Luo Nianshang, staring at the medicine, her voice distant, said, “I’m fine.”
The Demon Lord wanted to ask more questions, but she couldn’t be too enthusiastic. It would arouse suspicion. She suppressed her worry, snatching the bowl from Luo Nianshang’s hand and drinking the medicine in one gulp.
She immediately felt nauseous. She scoffed, her voice filled with self-deprecating amusement. “I’ve swallowed so many poisons without complaint,” she muttered. “And now I’m gagging over medicine. How pathetic.”
Luo Nianshang knew what she was referring to. The Demon Lord had been a medicine slave.
She wanted to offer words of comfort, but she couldn’t find the right words. Mimicking those romantic gestures from storybooks might backfire, as it had before.
The Demon Lord, oblivious to Luo Nianshang’s inner turmoil, took a deep breath, then she looked towards the doorway, spotting Bai Jingxue standing there.
“What are you doing there?” she asked. “You can transform now. You won’t trigger my allergies.”
Bai Jingxue hadn’t been worried about that. She had simply felt like she would be intruding. But the original story’s portrayal of the Demon Lord had been so deeply ingrained in her mind that she couldn’t quite believe there was anything romantic between them.
But the atmosphere in the room had been undeniably… charged.
She entered the room, her voice calm as she addressed Luo Nianshang. “Your robe is torn, Venerable One,” she said. “I’m quite skilled with a needle and thread. I thought I could help.”
The tear was under Luo Nianshang’s arm, carefully concealed. The Demon Lord hadn’t noticed it.
But she felt a twinge of annoyance.
Luo Nianshang, however, oblivious to the Demon Lord’s feelings, nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” she said.
She was about to unfasten her robe when the Demon Lord stopped her.
Luo Nianshang, her hand covered by the Demon Lord’s, looked at her, her brow furrowed with confusion, then the Demon Lord smiled. “I don’t like being indebted to others,” she said. “Since you helped me, I should repay the favor. Allow me to mend your robe.”
That charged atmosphere returned, and Bai Jingxue, her scalp tingling, her toes curling, quickly looked away, her mind drifting.
Luo Nianshang’s voice, calm and practical, rescued her from her awkwardness. “Very well,” she said. “Do you have a needle and thread?”
This last question was directed at Bai Jingxue, who quickly handed them over, then retreated towards the doorway, her head bowed. “I’ll be going now,” she mumbled.
Luo Nianshang, watching her flee, was confused. She placed the needle and thread on the bed, within the Demon Lord’s reach, then asked, her voice laced with surprise, “You know how to sew?”
Of course, the Demon Lord didn’t, but it seemed simple enough: poke the needle through the fabric, pull it out the other side. Anyone could do that.
“Of course,” she said, her voice filled with a false confidence. “Give me your robe.”
Bai Jingxue, escaping the hut, found Lü Qingyan and Qu Ying chatting about their past lives. She arrived just as Lü Qingyan mentioned a doll.
Bai Jingxue knew what doll she was referring to. She had made it for Lü Qingyan as a birthday present in their past life. Lü Qingyan had treasured it, keeping it in a display case, never allowing anyone to touch it.
They had been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed Bai Jingxue’s arrival.
“I miss that doll,” Lü Qingyan had said, her voice filled with a wistful longing.
Qu Ying had patted her shoulder. “Just make another one,” she had said. “I have some materials, though I might not have the same variety as in our world.”
Lü Qingyan had seemed tempted, then she had sighed. “It’s too much trouble,” she had said. “Jingxue pricked her fingers so many times making that doll.”
Bai Jingxue chuckled. “If you want it, it’s not a problem,” she said.
Her voice startled them. Qu Ying, her hand flying to her chest, couldn’t help but complain. “You’re like our homeroom teacher, sneaking up on us like that.”
Bai Jingxue ignored her, her voice eager. “Can I see your materials?” she asked. “I can trade you something.”
Lü Qingyan, her joy overflowing, jumped up, throwing her arms around Bai Jingxue. “Jingxue! Jingxue!”
Bai Jingxue, seeing her excitement, her words tumbling over each other, smiled. “I know,” she said softly.
Qu Ying, suddenly ignored, felt a twinge of annoyance.
