Chapter 48: Yellow Sparrow Lurks Behind (Part 2): To Make Her Bow Her Head, She Must Bow It Herself Part 2

She cut herself off there, swallowing the words, but days of pent-up anger erupted. “And why do you always assume the worst of people! Who would risk their own life to deceive you? Not everyone’s like you—full of lies, unworthy of trust!”

Pale blue light flowed along the spirit sword. Mu Qian Tan was silent for a moment before saying, “Say that again.”

Qin He quickly wedged herself between them and pushed Shang Shan back, already sensing the woman before her was more complex than imagined. She spoke cautiously. “Sister, Ye Jiejie, we still have time. We don’t need to rush. Let’s look for other solutions first. If nothing works, we can always come back. Right?”

Fu Li glanced from one to the other, watching from the sidelines.

Their heated argument echoed in the cavern. Mu Qian Tan caught a certain repeated word and glanced at Qin He. She took a deep breath and sheathed her spirit sword. “Fine, go look. If you find something, good for you.”

She crossed her arms, leaned against the stone wall, and closed her eyes to rest.

Shang Shan stared fixedly at her, fire still burning in her eyes.

Qin He pushed her shoulders, drawing her back a few steps. She lowered her voice. “Shan Shan, do you know her? I’ve felt that way since the trap.”

Fu Li crowded over too, curious. “Who is she anyway? How’d she end up with you all? Doesn’t seem from a small sect, but her face is unfamiliar. I’ve really never seen her.”

Shang Shan said, “She won’t even say herself. What do I have to say? Who knows who she is.”

She clenched and unclenched her fists a few times, then plastered on a smile. “Whatever, forget her. Let’s hurry and find a way out.”

Each took a few night-luminous pearls and ventured together into the dark cavern. After who knew how long—Mu Qian Tan was getting tired of standing—she returned to the fire and sat down.

Firelight illuminated half the woman’s body. That profile was frozen like a stone statue, with a faint vertical slit below her eyes, like a mark eroded by years of water.

Her clothes had long rotted away. She was fully naked now, without cover. From her petrified skin’s navel extended an umbilical cord—the only soft thing left on her.

Killing time either way, Mu Qian Tan wiped her sword as she asked, “Besides killing you, is there another way out?”

The woman slowly shook her head.

Mu Qian Tan shifted her gaze back to the flickering flames and was silent for a moment before saying, “Centuries have passed. Your family is long dead, and your child nearly consumed by the Yellow Sparrow’s backlash. You don’t want to live anymore, do you?”

This time, the woman waited a good while before nodding.

Orange-yellow firelight danced in her eyes. Mu Qian Tan lowered her gaze and closed her eyes. “I figured as much.”

The young always thought life was long. Even after hardships, there’d be a chance to turn things around.

Little did they know, for those who’d strayed to a dead end, living was prolonged slaughter. Death brought rebirth.

Even if she rescued someone who’d suffered half a lifetime in torment, that chill would linger in her remaining years, eventually drowning her again.

After waiting a long time—Mu Qian Tan wondered if dawn was breaking outside—the three finally returned, expressions all poor. Shang Shan was especially dejected, head hanging low.

Qin He still had traces of surging spiritual power on her. Fu Li sorted her storage pouch—they’d clearly tried many methods, all failures.

Knowing the path ahead was blocked, what use was a hard head? After crashing into walls, they still had to turn back. Mu Qian Tan said sarcastically, “Any results, esteemed immortals?”

Fu Li shrugged, not bothering to explain. “No dice.”

“No dice, huh.” Mu Qian Tan echoed softly, standing up. “Then let’s just follow the method she gave us properly.”

She took down the spirit sword and tossed it into Shang Shan’s arms. “Which of you will do it?”

The three stood motionless, not understanding what she meant. Qin He was slightly stunned. “Ye Jiejie…”

Mu Qian Tan said unhurriedly, “Just now, I thought it over carefully. Bearing the sin of killing an innocent would indeed affect my cultivation, so I don’t want to do it right now.”

Her expression relaxed as her gaze swept over them. “Since all of you are so resourceful that you could circle around inside the mountain demon’s belly and come back unscathed, your strength is impressive. You should handle this yourselves. That way, if I do it, you won’t be dissatisfied and come blame me.”

Having been chased by the mantis demon the whole way, their stamina had already been severely depleted, leaving them exhausted. They’d just consumed a great deal more in the cave, so both body and mind were utterly fatigued. They never expected that upon returning, they’d still have to face the choice of who would personally kill her. All of them froze in place.

Some had grown up in peaceful villages without harm, while others had been well-protected by their sects or families. Hunting demons and exorcising ghosts might be no big deal anymore, but killing a person—and one who, objectively speaking, hadn’t done anything evil—was something they’d never done and found extremely difficult.

Startled, the snake crawled back onto Fu Li’s forearm and loosely coiled around it. She lowered her head to look at the ground, her palm stroking the snake bones on her arm, appearing completely lost in thought, having thoroughly given up.

Qin He struggled for a long time, softly comforting herself. This was necessary to kill demons! If they didn’t get out, they’d be digested—they’d die!

But every time a determined light gathered in her eyes, it scattered the moment she turned toward the woman.

Before turning into this state, the woman had been a girl their age. A heavy rain had changed her fate, and from then on, the rain in her life never stopped.

This utter tragedy made it impossible for them to see the demonized woman as a mere demon, and thus they found it hard to strike.

Dead silence spread through the cave as a faint smile curved Mu Qian Tan’s lips.

Perfect. The lesson on killing hadn’t finished earlier, so now they could continue.

“Hurry and make a choice. Don’t waste time.”

Her palm brushed over the ancient patterns on the spirit sword’s surface. Shang Shan kept her head buried the whole time, clutching the sword without a word.

Mu Qian Tan waited patiently—her patience was often this abundant only when teasing others.

As if unable to endure the mental torment any longer, Shang Shan finally stepped forward and handed the sword back, though she still tightly pursed her lips and said nothing.

Mu Qian Tan lowered her gaze, her cool, indifferent eyes traveling between the spirit sword and Shang Shan’s face. “What does this mean?”

Shang Shan stayed silent but lifted her head. Her eyebrows furrowed in an eight shape, and her big eyes shimmered with waves of light, filled with dejection and pleading. They looked utterly pitiable to anyone who saw them.

Mu Qian Tan chuckled and crossed her arms, leaning slightly forward until her face was only half a palm’s distance from the other’s. In a breathy whisper, she said, “If you want me to do something, you have to tell me. Otherwise, you could learn from that sister and use hand signals, right?”

Shang Shan blinked, sniffed, and pushed the sword forward a bit more. “Please help.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Be more specific.”

Shang Shan said, “Please help… exorcise the demon.”

She still avoided the word “kill.” Mu Qian Tan let out an “oh” and reluctantly spared her, then added, “Do you dare repeat those words you said to me earlier?”

Shang Shan shook her head. Mu Qian Tan reached out and gripped the sword’s blade, asking finally, “Do you know you were wrong?”

In all fairness, she hadn’t done anything wrong. If there was a better way to preserve a life, that would be the best choice. Mu Qian Tan understood this principle, but she’d been defied and felt dissatisfied, so she wanted her to bow her head—she needed her to bow her head and enjoyed seeing her do so.

Her two lips seemed glued together. She struggled to pry them open a crack before they immediately closed again. Shang Shan’s lowered hand twisted the hem of her clothes back and forth as that stubborn scolding energy reignited on her ashen face. It seemed like the next moment, she’d firmly declare she wasn’t wrong.

At that moment, the sound of dripping water suddenly came from beside them.

They looked over and saw that the woman had somehow twisted off her own umbilical cord at some point. Drops of the fluid necessary to sustain her life fell to the ground. She seemed instantly drained dry, shriveling up.

“You…” Shang Shan was dumbfounded.

The woman knelt down, the severed umbilical cord still hanging from her palm. She pressed her hands together and kowtowed to them, as if apologizing for the argument and trouble she’d caused.

The death that centuries hadn’t taken from her surged forth in a short time. She rapidly aged, rotted away, and her last bit of life turned into tears that flowed from her eyes. Then her entire body turned to flying ash and vanished.

The next moment, an infant’s miserable cry echoed through the entire cave.

Black shadows swiftly devoured all the light in the cave, even swallowing the campfire whole. This utter darkness lasted only a few instants before the world brightened greatly. Before their eyes stretched that same damp, vast primitive forest.

They stood in the Shadowless Land, surrounded by round, pale tree stumps. Piles of white bones overlapped and squeezed into the gaps between the stumps—bones of various animals and humans. Those not fully decayed even retained scraps of clothing.

And directly in front of them loomed a massive, pitch-black yellow sparrow shadow demon.