Chapter 43: Mantis Stalking the Cicada (Part 3): Suddenly Throwing a Tantrum?

Qin He was right. With the Original Host’s personality, she indeed wasn’t suited to be a master. Even without this layer of grudge, anyone who said otherwise would reach the same conclusion.

Cultivating without cultivating virtue would inevitably slide into becoming a villain one day. This was the evaluation of the Original Host in the Five Great Ruthless People Record.

The book also detailed the “ten heinous crimes,” which Mu Qian Tan had read through entirely. Though disdainful, from a bystander’s perspective, she could understand.

Of the three most widely circulated misdeeds, the other two could be argued to lack eyewitnesses, with insufficient evidence—possibly just rumors—but the one where she let her kin die without helping had occurred in plain view of everyone, beyond doubt, absolutely true.

The ill reputation of being cold-blooded and unfilial was thus nailed to her for life, impossible to ever wash away.

Beyond that, there were her repeated arrogance, ignoring pleas from commoners, hurling harsh words at others, and more—all witnessed facts. In such circumstances, it would have been unreasonable for the Original Host not to be rejected and despised.

Qin He saying she wasn’t suited to be a master was already quite tactful.

Shang Shan said, “When I acknowledged her as master, I only thought her temper was bad. I didn’t know about these things.”

Qin He said, “You can still leave the sect now.”

Seeming to have some concerns, Shang Shan muttered softly, then said dejectedly in a normal volume, “I’ve thought about it, but she said I have to beat her to graduate.”

What kind of rule was that? Qin He knew she had been tricked and said solemnly, “Tianyu Sect has always respected disciples’ wishes. Come and go as you please—there has never been such an unreasonable, compulsory rule.”

“Ah!” Shang Shan realized it late. “I knew it!”

She forcefully slapped the bushes, green sap staining the heel of her palm as she kept saying, “As expected, it really is! Even that sentence was a lie—there’s not a single truthful word from her mouth!”

Hearing her grief and indignation, Mu Qian Tan didn’t understand at all.

After being deceived once, one should have been psychologically prepared. After so many times, one should be numb. Why did this Brain-Damaged Dragon react with such utter heartbreak every single time she caught on?

Could a heart that had died once revive good as new, only to die countless times over?

Qin He said, “If you need it, I can go with you to find the sect master. It doesn’t matter if Yao’e Immortal won’t let you leave—just tell the sect master all the truths about what happened after you joined her sect. She won’t stand for injustice and will surely seek justice for you.”

Shang Shan said, “The sect master knows how she treats me.”

Surprised by the response, Qin He pondered before saying, “The sect master might only know part of it, not the full story. I don’t want to discuss elders behind their backs, but from what you’ve said, it seems Yao’e is very good at putting on a facade. Perhaps she said something to the sect master that made her think the matter wasn’t urgent.”

Faint cicada cries could be heard in the distance when a gentle slope suddenly appeared underfoot. Shang Shan stepped over a half-rotted log and responded listlessly, “Maybe.”

“Um…” Qin He hummed thoughtfully as she drew her sword, infused it with spiritual power, and slashed through the tangled mass of long branches blocking the path ahead. Then she said, “How about this: I’ll ask my master to go to the sect master. My master also knows how Yao’e treats you—she hates bullies the most and will definitely be willing to help.”

This was an absolutely feasible idea with high chances of success for escaping her misery, yet Shang Shan fell silent. Her hand clenched around the berry, sweet juice bursting the fruit and dripping from between her fingers.

“I actually…” Her throat felt clogged with hot sand, making her words come out with great difficulty. “Actually… she’s not…”

They crested the slope, and piercing cicada cries crashed over them like overwhelming waves, like a massive net woven tight with barbed threads that instantly stabbed into every sense.

Shang Shan’s unfinished words were swallowed back. The three stood at the edge of the slope and looked ahead.

In a damp, muddy lowland basin stretched a dense cluster of massive orange-yellow banyan trees, thick and towering, crowding shoulder-to-shoulder. They bent many of the surrounding trees yet showed no restraint, instead spreading wide branches and leaves, shoving and toppling outward like an explosion frozen in time.

Vines wrapped densely around the trunks secreted glistening resin nonstop, while palm-sized leaves heavily held sweet sap that slid along the veins before falling, too heavy to bear, smashing into the dirt.

The spectacular sight resembled a deluge of thick rain from the heavens, droplets hanging from every branch and blanketing the ground. Even from a distance, the cloyingly sweet scent in the air was enough to turn one’s stomach.

This garish splash of color that clashed with the primeval forest was the Candy Banyan Forest.

Spotted cicadas as long as a person’s forearm crawled all over the trunks. Their hard shells bore sharp-edged wings on their backs, golden spots dotting the black exterior, needle-like mouthparts plunged into the sweet sap as they sucked frantically at a pace that would burst their bellies.

Joy flooded their brains. Wings buzzed, tymbals vibrating tirelessly. The cicada cries were piercingly shrill, nearly condensing into solid hands that clamped the temples and poured in chaotic noise, impossible to resist.

From here, every thick trunk crawled with spotted cicadas, heads to heads and tails to tails, enough to make one’s scalp crawl.

The two ahead—one a local who had grown up with such things, unafraid of bugs, and the other prepared—showed no reaction. Only Mu Qian Tan took a small step back, her throat bobbing slightly.

She had feared all manner of multi-legged and legless soft- or hard-shelled bugs since childhood; even glimpsing one accidentally would leave her unsettled for a long time. A casual glance at the Candy Banyan Forest revealed heaps of bug legs and mouthparts overlapping in motion, enough to churn the stomach and make one want to vomit up their meal.

As she stepped back, she snapped a branch underfoot with a crack that was nearly inaudible amid the cacophony of cicada cries. Shang Shan still caught it keenly and turned back, her eyes dimming slightly with reflected sunlight, almost translucent. “You’re afraid?”

Mu Qian Tan denied it flatly. “No.”

Shang Shan said, “If you’re afraid, stay farther back.”

Mu Qian Tan couldn’t tolerate it anymore. “I said no.”

Qin He also turned back and soothed, “Ye Jiejie, don’t be scared. We don’t need to go in to catch them—we can handle it from outside.”

Mu Qian Tan: “…” Fine, think whatever.

The torrential cicada cries threatened to tear one apart from the inside. Lingering too long risked upsetting one’s qi and blood. The three retraced their steps, putting some distance until the dense woods muffled the sound to a hazy murmur before they stopped to rest.

Standing in the tree shade, Qin He suddenly spoke without prelude. “Shang Shan, let me ask you—how do you catch the Spotted Cicada King?”

Shang Shan had just been about to sit on a fallen log when her butt hadn’t even touched it before the pop quiz hit. She hurriedly wracked her brains for the answer, her palm first rubbing the trunk as she sidled closer. Moments later, she replied, “Sugar Trap.”

“Right.” Qin He smiled lightly. “You need a sugar trap even sweeter than the Candy Banyan Forest to lure them.”

Shang Shan settled in and added, “Yeah, yeah. I remember—if conditions are lacking, you can melt white sugar in a perforated pottery jar, heat it to release the scent, and draw them in, though the effect isn’t great, just usable. The best and easiest way is to find a chunk of hive and use it directly to bait—one grab, guaranteed.”

Qin He clapped for her. “Exactly. Looks like you’ve memorized the Demonic Beast Record pretty well.”

Shang Shan laughed. “Of course, as long as…”

She shot Mu Qian Tan a meaningful glance before saying loudly, “As long as someone is willing to teach me properly, I learn fast! I’m the smartest in my village!”

Ears still ringing with phantom cicada cries, Mu Qian Tan leaned back against a trunk, fingers idly pressing her stomach now and then. Hearing this, she let out a low chuckle and looked down at the curled fallen leaves.

“We’re already in the woods now, so we’ll use what’s at hand and go with the best method—find a hive first.” Qin He took out the Map Scroll and unfurled it, her gaze scanning for a while before pausing at one spot.

She looked up and pointed the direction. “This way, about five kilometers. There’s a stream first—head there.”

The three plunged back into the woods and walked a stretch before a stream indeed blocked their path.

Crystal-clear water trickled over a bed of scattered pebbles. Dragonflies skimmed the surface and flew off; many frogs hid in the rock crevices, falling silent at the sound of approach, their dark eyes peering up through the water.

Qin He said, “Where there’s water, there might be hives. We can search within three kilometers. Hand to brow, she glanced at the sun. “To save time, let’s split up and aim to find a hive before dusk.”

Looking down, she asked, “Ye Jiejie, Shang Shan and I will go separate ways. Do you go with me or her?”

This assumed Mu Qian Tan couldn’t handle things alone and needed protection. But considering her debut trapped in that garbage pit, it was normal to think so.

Mu Qian Tan said, “I…”

Shang Shan straightened her back unnaturally, eyes darting, ears perked.

She had only come to monitor the protagonist anyway, so naturally there was no second choice. “I’ll go with Shang Shan.”

Shang Shan immediately said, “Okay!”

“Alright, then.” Qin He nodded. “Shang Shan, you can’t wield spiritual power freely here, and the demons are fierce. If you find a hive, don’t act rashly—come back here and wait for me to handle it. If no hive in an hour, return the same way. Got it?”

An hour later would be near dark; dangers in the woods would spike several levels, with ghosts appearing too. They would need to find a spot for a campfire and rest—no more wandering.

Shang Shan tugged the ends of her hair and held out both hands. “Got it.”

Qin He turned the other way. “Ye Jiejie, stick close to Shang Shan—she’ll protect you. Shang Shan, keep an eye on Ye Jiejie too. Watch that no house-stealing demon sneaks her away.”

The emphasis on “watch” differed from the rest, sounding like concern for safety but implying vigilance against her as well.

Qin He still didn’t trust her, it seemed—just holding back out of consideration for her friend’s feelings.

With such meticulous thinking, even casually tossing a scheme at the Brain-Damaged Dragon wouldn’t make her this foolish.

Shang Shan laughed. “I will. Don’t worry.”

The two parted from there, each searching the woods for a hive.

Shang Shan walked ahead along the stream. Mu Qian Tan followed, the nausea from the bugs not yet faded as she rubbed her stomach with one hand, eyes tracking little black fish darting in the clear water.

After a bit, Shang Shan suddenly squatted by the stream to wash her hands.

Mu Qian Tan also stopped, idly watching the frogs gathering more and more in the water.

Rubbing away the berry juice caked in her finger crevices, Shang Shan asked casually, “Why’d you come here?”

What a strange and untimely question. Mu Qian Tan said speechlessly, “The trial.”

Shang Shan asked, “Do you still need a trial?”

Mu Qian Tan also tilted her head toward the water, where ripples floated a clear female visage. The Disguise Mask fit perfectly on her face—black robe, long hair, weapon, voice, all seamlessly disguised.

Thus, her tone carried confidence. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The berry juice drifted away with the stream. A frog poked its head from under a rock, puffing its cheeks as if identifying the one squatting at the edge.

Shang Shan lifted her dripping palm onto her knee. “Just for the trial?”

What was with this Brain-Damaged Dragon and her baffling questions? Mu Qian Tan really wanted to dunk her head in the water but held back—small impatience could ruin big plans. “What else?”

“Then you!” Shang Shan flung off the water droplets irritably. “Why are you following me?”

“…” Mu Qian Tan said, “Weird. Did I suddenly decide to follow you? You’re only asking now?”

The shimmering stream reflected bits of sunlight onto the girl’s face, fine fuzz hairs visible, one pale cheek bulging with clenched teeth. Shang Shan said no more, abruptly standing and speeding ahead.

Mu Qian Tan’s face was full of speechlessness and bafflement. Nutcase—suddenly throwing a tantrum?