Seeking the Devil - Chapter 33

Xue Wan froze for a few seconds, her lips twitching slightly. Her gaze subtly swept over the other three “people” seated around her. “Slaying demons and vanquishing evil?”

“Mm,” Shi Liu confidently affirmed herself. “Slaying demons and vanquishing evil.”

“…Sure, whatever the little fairy says goes.”

Xue Wan turned her head and called out to the waiter who had just popped up. “Hey there, little brother, bring us your finest spring tea.”

The waiter was still puzzled by the fact that the previously full hall now had only one table occupied. Hearing the request, he saw a little Taoist priest who had somehow appeared out of nowhere, looking like a fraudster, now sitting among a group of obviously wealthy and distinguished guests.

With a forced smile, the waiter walked over. “Of course, no problem. But will you be paying for this separately or…?”

The little Taoist grandly pointed to the black-haired, red-eyed demon emperor across from him. “Obviously, put it on his tab.”

“Huh? Well…”

The waiter looked toward Wen Shifei for confirmation.

“Let her put it on my tab,” came the response from across the table.

“Right away!”

Wen Shifei held a teacup, playing with it in his hand with a faintly amused expression, but his gaze was both menacing and cold, as if he might crush the cup at any moment. He looked at the little Taoist with the same dangerous gaze and said, “But, if you’re putting this on my tab, aren’t you afraid you’ll have to pay for it with your life?”

“Fate has brought us together. Why be so distant, my good sir?” The little Taoist lazily shifted closer to Shi Liu. “Besides, I’m here to slay demons and vanquish evil as well. We share the same goals, don’t we?”

“Oh, sir, you’re quite the joker,” said the waiter as he cleaned the neighboring table. “Everyone knows Huatian City is under the jurisdiction of the Tianyan Sect, and Qiyun Town is a crucial hub for them. With the might of two great immortal sects, no demons, ghosts, or monsters would dare cause trouble here!”

The table of demons and monsters silently drank their tea, quietly eating their food, appearing extremely low-key and restrained.

The demon emperor, however, seemed intrigued. He casually tossed his cup onto the table with a light thunk and, resting his forehead in his hand, lifted his eyes. “Oh? But if demonic activities were to occur in Qiyun Town and people were killed, how would the Tianyan Sect handle that?”

“Well, if only one or two people died, and the deaths weren’t too strange, the Tianyan Sect probably wouldn’t intervene…”

The waiter answered earnestly, completely unaware of the eerie ripples forming in the shadow beneath him, creeping slowly towards his ankles like something invisible and terrifying.

“Hey, you waiter! Why are you babbling so much?” The little Taoist suddenly scowled, his voice deliberately gruff. “I asked you to bring tea! Why are you still here wasting time?”

The waiter blinked, snapping out of it. Instinctively, he glanced at the red-robed gentleman who had questioned him earlier. The moment their eyes met—those half-smiling, half-threatening eyes—the waiter felt a sudden chill run down his spine.

He swallowed nervously. “Y-Yes, right away! Please excuse me for a moment.” Before he even finished speaking, he had already grabbed his cloth and scurried off toward the kitchen.

“…”

The demon emperor slowly retracted his blood-red gaze and looked across the table. The little Taoist had turned back, tilting her fair and delicate face upwards with an innocent smile aimed at him. “I scolded him for you.”

The demon emperor let out a bloodthirsty grin. “Meddling in things that don’t concern you will get you killed early.”

“We fortune-tellers don’t believe in that kind of thing. We trust in the will of Heaven.” Xue Wan bared her teeth in a grin. “Before I came down the mountain… well, before I came here, I divined my fortune. Today, I’m supposed to meet a very kind little fairy. No bloodshed in sight.”

As she spoke, Xue Wan edged a little closer to Shi Liu. “Isn’t that right, little fairy?”

The demon emperor squeezed his cup but didn’t make a move.

“The tea’s here,” a cool voice from Feng Ye chimed in.

A light breeze, cool and refreshing like the scent of pine trees after a snowfall, inexplicably swept through the hall.

Shi Liu was familiar with this aura and looked to the side with some confusion. Ever since they had entered the mortal realm, it seemed Feng Ye had been somewhat drowsy, but now his eyes were open.

Shi Liu couldn’t quite understand. It was clear that something about him felt different now compared to earlier. Or rather, it seemed that the earlier version of him didn’t quite match who he usually was.

Before Feng Ye could say anything, the little Taoist next to Shi Liu leaned over and whispered, “This is called the Soul Separation Immortal Technique.”

“?”

Her voice wasn’t hidden, and the whole table turned to look.

Shi Liu was genuinely curious, Jiao Zhi was genuinely caught off guard and on alert, and the other two had cold, frosty looks in their eyes.

The little Taoist didn’t seem to notice. “The Soul Separation Immortal Technique is something powerful immortals used in the past to observe both realms. It may seem like he was just sitting here, talking to you as usual, but in that time, he could’ve already taken a full tour of the entire Tianyan Sect’s territory.”

Shi Liu’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.

Xue Wan scratched her forehead. “Why are you looking at me like that, little fairy?”

Shi Liu hesitated, furrowing her brow slightly, as if unsure whether to speak.

But the lazy demon behind her answered on her behalf: “She’s thinking this is the first time she’s met someone more reckless than herself.”

Xue Wan blinked in disbelief. “Really?”

“I’m curious too,” Feng Ye said, his expression shifting as he spoke.

His gaze was indifferent and distant, like the eyes of a being from the highest heavens looking down on the mortal world, devoid of any human warmth.

He stared at the little Taoist as if she were already dead.

“Even if she’s reckless, I won’t let her die. But on what basis do you think I won’t make sure you die right here?”

Xue Wan’s hand, which had been scratching her forehead, instinctively shifted to the brim of her Taoist hat.

The demon’s cold smile deepened. “That little lotus of yours is indeed interesting, but it won’t be enough to protect your life.”

“…”

Xue Wan paused for a moment. “I can teach the little fairy how to cultivate!”

“?”

The demon shot her a mocking look.

The meaning of “Are you even worthy?” was written all over his face.

Xue Wan quickly added, “Though the little fairy has reached the Earth Realm, it’s obvious it was due to fortuitous encounters. She hasn’t truly stepped onto the proper path of cultivation. Besides, her body constitution is quite special. Without proper guidance, it would be a waste. And I— I can teach her the cultivation methods of ‘humans.’”

She placed heavy emphasis on the word “humans.”

The three “people” at the table clearly sensed the subtle implication.

For a rare moment, Feng Ye fell silent.

——

His true form was indeed not human. He had been born into his position and had never gone through the arduous process of progressing from the Earth Realm to the Heaven Realm and then ascending to the Immortal Realm.

The other two great demons at the table had even less experience with such things.

The oppressive, invisible atmosphere of wind and snow that had filled the hall seemed to dissipate.

The “death threat” had passed.

Xue Wan exhaled in relief.

But the demon emperor across from her wasn’t ready to let her off so easily. He smiled coldly, still tinged with cruelty. “So, are you saying you came here today just to teach her how to cultivate and do good deeds?”

“Of course, I came to do good deeds,” Xue Wan puffed out her chest proudly. “And, by the way, I’m waiting for someone, which is also part of my good deeds.”

“Who are you waiting for?”

Xue Wan immediately leaned in closer, her expression suddenly mysterious, just about to reveal something.

She suddenly turned her head. “Ah, they’ve arrived.”

“?”

Before her words even settled, a group of four entered the hall. They were all dressed in uniform black sword robes, swords hanging at their waists, with their hair tied neatly in crowns, exuding an air of arrogance and self-assurance.

At that exact moment, the waiter emerged from the kitchen carrying a teapot. Upon seeing the swords hanging from their waists, he froze for a second, then quickly bent over with a respectful bow. “Honored immortals, what brings you here?”

“Are there… any empty tables?” The one who spoke, standing behind the leading disciple, trailed off mid-sentence, eyes scanning the strangely empty hall, with only one table occupied.

The waiter didn’t notice anything unusual and smiled warmly. “I’ve just cleaned up a table. Immortals, please follow me.”

He briskly led them to the table across from Shi Liu and the others—indeed the very one he had just wiped down.

The four hesitated at the entrance. The one who had spoken earlier sent a mental message to the leader: “Something’s off. He should be looking for a crowded place to blend in, right? Why is this place so deserted?”

“Let’s wait and see. He wouldn’t dare make any moves here.”

“Understood, Senior Brother.”

The four sword-wielders, all of whom had extremely high cultivation levels, with the leader already at the peak of the Heavenly Realm, were disciples of an esteemed immortal sect and carried themselves with utmost pride. Their mental transmissions were made with the assumption that no one could overhear.

However, beside the table, Shi Liu, who was the weakest in cultivation, was already holding hands with Feng Ye, who had discreetly tapped her wrist, allowing her to hear the entire transmission. The others, even more powerful, had no difficulty catching every word.

“Tianyan Sect, disciples of Sword Peak,” Xue Wan transmitted mentally.

The demon emperor sneered with a wicked, disdainful smile. “These are the people you were waiting for?”

“Don’t rush. There are more,” Xue Wan responded.

“?”

Once the waiter had settled the new guests at their table, he turned back, teapot in hand.

“Honored guests, your tea has arrived,” he announced cheerfully. As he spoke, a figure emerged beyond his shoulder, descending the staircase from the inn’s second floor—a man in simple, rough-spun clothes.

It was none other than the very thief that Wen Shifei had been chasing, the same man who had appeared in the water screen vision.

A moment passed.

Wen Shifei lowered his gaze, blood-red eyes swirling with murderous intent, though his face held a smile.

“Well, well… What a big fish.”

“Ah?” The waiter, confused, glanced at the large plate of fish on the table. “Uh, yes, it is quite big.”

Wen Shifei’s voice, dripping with cruel amusement, responded, “Tell me, if I were to slaughter him, how many rivers in the mortal realm would turn blood-red?”

Waiter: “?”

Jiao Zhi, still gnawing on a piece of meat, cut in bluntly, “Didn’t I tell you to pour the tea?”

“Oh, right!” The waiter, a bit embarrassed, hurriedly complied.

He lifted the purple clay teapot high, letting a thin, clear stream of tea flow gracefully into the cup—

—

In a flash, the scene shifted to a roaring mountain waterfall. It cascaded like a long, white ribbon, plummeting from the towering cliffs of the Xuan Sect’s back mountains, surrounded by dense forests.

The waterfall, descending three thousand feet in a powerful rush, concealed behind its curtain of water a hidden area—a place where countless seals and barriers were placed. It was here, behind these enchanted falls, that the Xuan Sect imprisoned the most heinous demons and monsters from the world.

“Water Prison.”

At the deepest point of the Water Prison lies a circular dungeon made entirely of Fengtian Stone, a rare and mystical material. Though it is one of the spiritual treasures of creation, Fengtian Stone has no ability to enhance cultivation or save lives. Its sole purpose is to seal spiritual energy.

A dungeon built from such a vast amount of Fengtian Stone, combined with the specialized barriers of the Xuan Sect, creates an inescapable prison. No matter how powerful a demon may be, once imprisoned here, escape without external aid is nearly impossible.

This prison, however, had long remained empty—until recently.

The three Supreme Elders of the Xuan Sect had descended into the underworld and finally captured the Nightmare Demon from the Valley of Nightmares. Now, this terrifying creature was being held in the deepest part of the Water Prison, in the Fengtian Stone dungeon.

The circular prison was divided in half. In the center stood a row of Xuan Iron bars reinforced with a one-way visibility restriction, making it impenetrable. In one corner, the Nightmare Demon cowered, barely clinging to life.

In the semicircular stone chamber leading to the prison’s exit, a simple straw mat was placed. A young disciple, tasked with guarding this cell, knelt calmly upon it.

The place was utterly silent, so much so that even the sound of the waterfall outside could not penetrate within, leaving a cold, eerie stillness that gnawed at the spirit. The most frightening thing wasn’t the silence, but the crushing sense of time stretching on endlessly, blurring the lines between life and death, as if one might already be dead without realizing it.

For the disciples of the Xuan Sect, being assigned to the Water Prison was akin to living a nightmare. As such, only those who had violated sect rules and received severe punishment would be sent here to guard the prisoners.

To prevent these disciples from falling into despair or developing inner demons, they were typically rotated every few days.

However, the disciple guarding this cell had not been rotated in over ten days.

At some point, outside the Fengtian Stone prison, the air rippled.

Two figures in pale moon-white robes appeared abruptly. One had a fierce face and a thick beard—Elder Yuan Canglang, one of the elders who had gone to the underworld.

The other man had a face like sculpted jade, cold and aloof, with eyes that seemed to contain the boundless depths of the universe. His gaze alone could pierce through the rise and fall of empires, through joy and sorrow.

He was the first master of the Emotionless Dao, the head of the Supreme Elders, the Xuan Sect’s junior grandmaster—Lin Qinghe.

This was a name that the world was on the verge of forgetting, yet it was a name that had left an indelible mark in ancient scrolls, chronicles, and the thousand-year history of the mortal realm.

Just as Shi Dingtian was lauded as the strongest figure in the mortal realm in a thousand years, and Yan Qiubai was hailed as the most talented of the younger generation, and Shi Li was named the most gifted of the Shi Clan…

Lin Qinghe needed no such titles.

Under the gates of Heaven, he was simply the first.

Thousands of years ago, during the great upheaval in the mortal realm, when demons and monsters ran rampant, the Xuan Sect wielded a single sword to pacify the world. That sword was the Heartless Sword.

And its wielder was Lin Qinghe.

From that moment on, a saying became known throughout the world: The Emotionless Dao is unmatched, invincible in any realm, conquering all.

Upon sensing the disturbance behind him, the young disciple on the straw mat stood up and bowed to the two elders.

“Qiubai greets the grandmaster and Elder Yuan.”

Lin Qinghe’s expression flickered with mild surprise. “Why is Qiubai here?”

For the pride of the Xuan Sect, the first young master of the sect, to be punished with guarding the dungeon—such news, if it got out, would no doubt stir up a commotion in the mortal world.

Beside him, Yuan Canglang snorted, his beard twitching with irritation. “Him? He defied orders to stand up for a little demon spirit he didn’t even know. He disobeyed the sect’s mandate and even requested to take the Punishment Whip. If it weren’t for the fact that the Sect Leader believed he had important duties as the sect’s representative in the world, he would’ve been sent to the Purification Pool to reflect for three years. Thirty days in the Water Prison was a lenient punishment.”

“Thirty days in the Water Prison is hardly much lighter than three years in the Purification Pool.”

Lin Qinghe shook his head with a soft, resigned sigh and casually gestured for Yan Qiubai to rise. Yan Qiubai had trained under Lin Qinghe from a young age, and his temperament and personality bore many similarities to his master.

However, Lin Qinghe cultivated the Emotionless Dao, which required one to sever all worldly attachments, leaving him distant and unapproachable, like a figure standing amidst frost and snow, even when physically close. This was where Yan Qiubai differed from his master.

Yuan Canglang, still with a stern face, grumbled, “I ask you, during these ten days of reflection, have you gained any insights?”

“I have indeed made some realizations,” Yan Qiubai replied.

“Oh?” Yuan Canglang couldn’t hide a flicker of hope as he turned and asked, “What have you realized?”

Yan Qiubai respectfully bowed again, “Disciple recalls that after the Nightmare Demon was captured from Nightmare Valley, the Valley itself was destroyed. However, the tens of thousands of Wandering Souls in the valley—why have their whereabouts remained unknown?”

Yuan Canglang: “…?”

His beard twitched as he stared at Yan Qiubai, his face reddening with frustration. Finally, he managed to squeeze out, “You were supposed to be reflecting, and this is what you spent ten days thinking about??”

If it weren’t for the fact that there were no other disciples around to witness, Yuan Canglang might have gone searching for a broom to vent his frustration.

“Enough,” Lin Qinghe interjected calmly, cutting off the tension. “His thirty-day sentence is halved. Qiubai.”

“Disciple is here.”

“A message from the Tianji Pavilion has arrived. There’s a matter that requires your attention.” Lin Qinghe flicked his fingers, sending a golden light into Yan Qiubai’s sea of consciousness.

Yan Qiubai’s expression turned serious as he absorbed the contents of the message. “The Tianyan Sect…?”

“That young saintess from the Tianyan Sect, her ability to sever fate lines is indeed a rare and innate talent. Attached to the message is a projection of her Golden Lotus, which you must retrieve. As for the situation in the Tianyan Sect, you needn’t worry too much. You are merely tasked with leading some disciples to investigate. If what you find is true, report back to the sect, and the Elder Council will handle the rest.”

“Disciple understands.”

Yan Qiubai stood up solemnly and prepared to leave.

“Wait,” Yuan Canglang called out, suddenly remembering something. “Take that lazy brat Yuan Hui with you. And this time, don’t go easy on him!”

“Understood.”

As their voices faded into the distance, Yuan Canglang turned back, clearing his throat and trying to compose himself. “So, uh, Grandmaster… shall I remove the prison’s barrier now?”

——

In the Xuan Sect, Lin Qinghe’s seniority was so high that it was difficult to measure. From the elders to the youngest disciples, all were considered juniors before him. In fact, only the Supreme Elders were not beneath him in status, despite Yuan Canglang looking old enough to be Lin Qinghe’s grandfather.

Lin Qinghe was clearly used to this and gave a slight nod.

For a moment, a faint, unfathomable mist swirled in his eyes as he turned his gaze toward the Xuan Iron Prison.

Yuan Canglang performed a quick spell, temporarily deactivating the restrictive barrier on the iron bars.

Inside the cell.

In the corner, demonic energy was spilling from the captive within, unable to be fully suppressed by even the Fengtian Stone. The source of the energy was a woman dressed in torn red gauze, her body marred with wounds, blood dripping from the corner of her lips.

Despite her condition, she lazily opened her eyes, as if waking from a long, dreamlike slumber, and looked out of the cell.

The cold stone cell, dim and oppressive, could not diminish the sheer grace of the figure within. Her eyes, like distant mountains, carried an aura that seemed to belong to someone standing atop the heavens, distant and untouchable.

“Ah,” the Nightmare Demon murmured, her voice soft and teasing, as she propped herself up against the wall, her movements languid and seductive. A smile bloomed on her lips, as if she had just awoken from a pleasant dream. “Isn’t this the famed Daozi of the Emotionless Dao, the one who pacified the world with a single sword strike thousands of years ago?”

Yuan Canglang snorted, unimpressed. “You despicable demon, how dare you recognize our sect’s grandmaster?”

“Recognize him?” The Nightmare Demon chuckled softly, her slender fingers—painted in crimson but now chipped and bloodstained—lifted delicately. She traced a faint, invisible outline in the air, her eyes lingering on Lin Qinghe, who stood unmoved outside her cell.

Then, she smiled again, her expression delicate and mournful. “It was my hand that shattered his Yuan Yang body. Didn’t he tell you?”

“…?”

The cell fell into a deep silence.

Several heartbeats passed.

Yuan Canglang slowly turned his head, confusion and shock plastered across his face. “??????”