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Chapter 50: Omen of Disaster
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 11:59:08 +0000 UTCZi Hour (11 pm), Prince of Chu’s Residence
The sacrificial ceremony had ended, and the chanting monks outside the walls gradually fell silent.
The concubine, clutching a string of prayer beads, was supported by a maid as she slowly made her way into the courtyard. Her expression was weary, and her steps unhurried.
Unlike the other women in Wei Zhiyuan’s household, she had devoted herself to Buddhism for years. Like the temple bells and wooden fish of a monastery, she carried an air of profound serenity.
However, Wei Zhiyuan had no fondness for Buddhist teachings. He preferred entertaining Daoist cultivators as honored guests and even sent his own son to study Daoism at Wanjian Sect.
The concubine frowned, recalling that good-for-nothing wastrel of the Wei family. A faint sneer curled at her lips.
Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, so what? Some people were simply beyond saving, no matter how much effort was wasted on them.
Like her own demeanor, the sneer was faint, fleeting, soon to be carried away by the night breeze.
Yet after a long moment, the expression on her face did not fade. Instead, it shifted from mockery to astonishment.
Because there was someone standing in the courtyard.
The figure held a folding fan, clad in striking red robes that resembled the flames of an exorcism fire, burning into the inner courtyard.
Half of his body was concealed beneath the dense bamboo leaves, but his silhouette bore a striking resemblance to the prince’s son, who studied at Bixue Peak.
The concubine’s brows knitted tighter. This was clearly not the prince’s son.
Though the prince’s son was an idle libertine, he would never dress in such flamboyant red, nor would he appear in her courtyard so recklessly in the dead of night.
She remained indifferent, rolling her prayer beads between her fingers, waiting to see what this man intended. To intrude upon the Prince of Chu’s residence, he should be prepared to leave as a corpse.
Yet the man showed no fear. Instead, he smiled, snapped his fan shut, and stepped forward from the bamboo’s shadow at an unhurried pace.
Under the shifting moonlight, he bowed slightly and said, “My name is Xie Bai. Several years ago, I had the honor of meeting Your Grace once. I wonder if you still remember me?”
The concubine studied his face and shook her head. “I don’t know you.”
Xie Bai came to a stop, grinning as he replied, “Whether you remember me or not is of little consequence—because I have come to kill you.”
—
Mao Hour, Qixia Mountain
The distant voices of Nanqu women singing mountain ballads echoed across Qixia Mountain, the melodies drifting far and wide.
The morning sun swept over the silver pavilions of the Tianyin Division, reflecting dazzling light.
Wu Yan had already awakened, lying on the floor, watching as Ji Rong packed her belongings.
Perhaps due to absorbing the Changming Flower, its fox tail now carried a faint red hue, and its fur appeared even softer.
Meanwhile, Ji Rong gazed down at the blood jade bracelet on her wrist, her mood rather sour.
For no reason other than the fact that this bracelet was a scorching hot burden.
Ever since the Cangming Sword had flown into her bracelet, it had gained additional intricate patterns and an unsettling burning sensation, especially at night, when it would even emit a faint glow.
Last night, the heat kept Ji Rong awake. She had intended to ask the system how to remove it, but the useless thing had once again gone completely silent, as if dead.
She sighed in relief, thinking how fortunate it was that the protagonist had been practicing the seventh level of Yu Fei, ‘Red Lotus,’ which caused her Red Lotus Mark to flare up at night. Because of that, she had not been staying in Haoran Residence these past few nights.
Otherwise, the protagonist would have noticed that her bracelet was glowing in the dark.
Ji Rong had barely managed to sleep when her dreams became filled with strange and fantastical visions.
In the dream, there was a girl. She wore light gauze robes and held a sword in her arms, walking alone through a vast expanse of snow.
She walked for a long time until she finally emerged from the snowy plains and arrived at a city.
The city was dazzlingly prosperous, its streets woven together like embroidered patterns, lanterns burning day and night.
At a street stall, a sugar artist was pouring molten syrup back and forth over a stone slab, crafting a translucent phoenix.
The girl stood at the city gates, watching as the vendor lifted the sugar phoenix with a small spatula, affixed it to a bamboo skewer, and handed it to a little girl in a red cotton coat.
She stared intently at the phoenix, her brows furrowed.
Then, she lifted her gaze to the city gate, where two bold, iron-brush characters were inscribed:
—Xuanji.
The sugar phoenix looked strikingly lifelike, yet the girl found it oddly familiar.
So, she stepped forward and entered Xuanji City.
—
When Ji Rong woke up, she sat at the edge of her bed, contemplating the dream.
The girl in the dream was most likely the original owner of her body. After all, the key phrases, ‘sword in arms,’ ‘snow-white gauze robes’—were all there.
But at the same time, Ji Rong felt that the girl wasn’t the original owner. Because in the dream, she could inexplicably understand the girl’s thoughts.
When the girl saw the sugar artist at work, her face remained indifferent, but inside, she was thinking, What is this?
True, the original owner came from an extraordinarily noble background—but surely not so high that she had never seen sugar art before?
Moreover, when the little girl received the sugar phoenix, the girl’s heart murmured, It looks so beautiful. I want one too.
…No matter how she looked at it, Ji Rong refused to believe this was the original owner.
The original owner was noble and aloof, there was no way she would ever crave a piece of sugar art.
As Ji Rong silently ridiculed the thought, Gu Baiyi entered the room and said, “Senior Sister, Elder Gong sent word that the formation has been repaired. We may set off now.”
Ji Rong looked up at Gu Baiyi. Perhaps because the protagonist had tied her ink-black hair back with a simple cloth ribbon today, Ji Rong found that she seemed particularly refreshed.
Looking closer, she noticed that the edges of the ribbon were embroidered with vermillion plum blossoms, each petal meticulously stitched, complementing Gu Baiyi’s refined bearing.
Gu Baiyi’s features had always been exceptionally striking, but they were often obscured by her loose hair and shadowed by her deep, unreadable gaze, lending her a detached air.
Now, with her hair pulled back high and a soft smile in her eyes, she seemed like an unsheathed blade; radiant, brilliant, unrestrained.
Ji Rong was momentarily stunned.
So dazzlingly beautiful, was this truly the same game protagonist she had known?
Give me back my dark and brooding Gu Baiyi.
It wasn’t that Ji Rong disliked this change in persona, it was just that the contrast was too stark for her to process.
So she merely glanced at Gu Baiyi and replied with a calm, indifferent, “Mm. Then let’s go quickly.”
Gu Baiyi saw that Ji Rong still maintained her usual indifferent demeanor. Though her face showed no expression, a faint sense of disappointment welled up in her heart.
After all, that hair ribbon was something she had embroidered herself, following the pattern of the silk handkerchief Ji Rong had given her in their past life.
Gu Baiyi guessed that the embroidery on that handkerchief must have been crafted by an artisan from Xuanji City, given its intricate stitchwork.
She still remembered the sensation of tracing the plum blossom pattern in her past life. It had taken her an entire night to complete the embroidery.
Yet Ji Rong seemed completely unaware that she was wearing the ribbon. Even if she had noticed, there wasn’t a single extra flicker of emotion on her face.
Watching Ji Rong step out of the room, Gu Baiyi let out a soft sigh.
Her Senior Sister’s indifference to everything was just the same as before.
Shaking off the thought, she quickened her pace to follow, walking alongside Ji Rong as they left Haoran Residence and made their way to the Jinse Hall of Tianyin Division.
By the time they arrived, the Wanjian Sect members were already there.
Standing in front of the hall, Mei He was exchanging parting words with Tang Yu.
Tang Yu was dressed in mourning robes. Bowing respectfully, he said sincerely, “Sect Master Mei, the kindness Wanjian Sect has shown to Tianyin Division, one day, I will repay it a hundredfold.”
Mei He returned the gesture and smiled. “Sect Master Meng and I have known each other for a hundred years. This was merely a small effort on my part, no need for thanks.”
The two of them continued their heartfelt exchange for quite some time.
Watching the social masters spar with words, Ji Rong felt a headache coming on. If she were in Mei He’s place, she would have long since run out of things to say and stood there awkwardly.
As expected of my wife, graceful and elegant even in small talk, handling pleasantries without a single flaw. I must overcome my social anxiety one day and strive to be like her.
While Ji Rong was making her unrealistic self-improvement plan, Tang Yu had finished his lingering farewells with Mei He and turned to inquire about Gong Yu’s health.
Xie Bai, meanwhile, was so bored he was practically playing tricks with his folding fan.
Qiu Sushuang and Ye Chuyang remained silent, the former idly stroking the flute at her waist, while the latter sat so still she seemed to have entered a meditative trance.
Amidst the boredom, Yun Ying suddenly noticed something and curiously asked, “Maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t Senior Sister Gu’s ribbon look a lot like the plum blossom embroidery on Senior Sister Ji’s sleeve?”
Ji Rong finally looked closer and realized that the pattern on Gu Baiyi’s hair ribbon was indeed identical to the plum blossoms embroidered at the edge of her sleeve.
Gu Baiyi, with a faint smile, glanced at Ji Rong’s sleeve and feigned surprise. “It does seem quite similar, just as Junior Sister Yun said.”
Ji Rong was speechless. Similar? No, it was exactly the same.
And could the heroine at least try to make her expression look more convincing? If you’re going to act surprised, at least make it believable.
Little did she know, Gu Baiyi had deliberately left a flaw for Ji Rong to notice. After all, her Senior Sister rarely paid attention to trivial things, if she didn’t make it obvious, Ji Rong might never have realized it.
Ji Rong had indeed noticed. And so, she responded with a cold laugh.
Gu Baiyi: “?”
Ji Rong’s lips curved into a faint smile, but her tone was utterly indifferent. “Quite a coincidence.”
Hah. No need to go through all this trouble to match accessories with me. I am simply too dazzling, Gu Baiyi, you could never imitate me.
Gu Baiyi watched the smile on Ji Rong’s face and felt that something wasn’t quite right.
At that moment, Tang Yu had finished exchanging pleasantries with Gong Yu.
Turning to Ji Rong with a smile, he said, “I believe we met some years ago when I accompanied Aunt Lan to see you, Miss Ji. Back then, you were only a few years old, so lively and adorable, quite different from how you are now.”
Ji Rong was utterly bewildered.
The original host of this body could be described as “lively and adorable”? That seemed like quite a stretch.
Besides, Meng Lan had previously mentioned that she had only seen the original Ji Rong once, at her full-moon banquet. How did Tang Yu suddenly have memories of meeting her as a child?
Completely unaware of Ji Rong’s thoughts, Tang Yu continued with a smile. “Your extraordinary beauty reminds me of a certain painting stored in the Tianyin Division. The person in that painting seems to be—”
“Sect Master Tang, it’s getting late.”
Mei He suddenly interrupted, his tone filled with polite apology. “With the sect competition approaching, I have pressing matters to attend to. I’m afraid we must continue this conversation another day.”
Tang Yu was briefly taken aback before offering a warm smile. “Then I shall see you off here. Tianyin Division will always welcome you.”
With that, Ji Rong and the other disciples clasped their fists in farewell and descended the stone steps, boarding the Penglai Boat.
With a sweep of Mei He’s sleeve, the Penglai Boat lifted off the ground and soared into the sky.
Ji Rong lifted the curtain and gazed back at the silver palace atop Qixia Mountain.
A shimmer of silver disappeared into the clouds, gradually fading from view.
—
Shenzong, Stargazing Platform.
Footsteps echoed in the stillness.
A woman stepped onto the platform, gazing at the stars above.
She wore ceremonial robes woven with gold and silver threads, and a bronze artifact hung at her chest, engraved with a totem unknown to the world.
No one could decipher its meaning, for it embodied the will of Heaven itself.
Shenzong was known as “Shenzong” because it was the closest existence to divinity, the closest to Heaven’s mandate.
Since the High Priest’s passing, the woman had stood here for many years, watching the stars in his place.
Some stars shone brilliantly, while others were naturally dim.
Her gaze followed the drifting clouds, reaching farther and farther, almost as if it could pierce the heavens and glimpse the unknowable beyond.
But she did not, for that barrier was insurmountable.
Just as this thought crossed her mind, a particular star caught her attention.
It had been years since she had displayed any unnecessary expressions.
But now, she frowned, a barely perceptible change, yet enough to reveal that something was very wrong with that star.
It was far away, somewhere in the southeast, near the barrier covered in ancient spells.
For years, she had never noticed its existence.
But now, she saw it clearly, that star, wrapped in flames, flickering with a blood-red glow in the dark night.
It appeared and disappeared like a phantom, a true omen of catastrophe.
Something so inauspicious could only mean one thing.
The woman smiled faintly, reaching out her hand as if, across an impossible distance, she could grasp that wildly burning star.
“Got you.”
