The Light of the Righteous Path Has Gone Offline - Chapter 12

After a long while, Ming Jing exhaled and opened her eyes.

A faint, shadowy light flashed through them. The sharp aura surrounding her sliced through the air before gradually settling back into stillness.

The first thing she did was look toward the stone chamber.

Its heavy door remained closed, an impenetrable barrier that even her keen gaze could not pierce.

Murong Chi was inside.

Remembering what Murong Chi had said, Ming Jing’s expression shifted several times.

She patiently waited for a long while, remaining in the same position as she stared at the stone door with such intensity that she could almost be described as waiting with desperate anticipation.

But the door merely stood there in silence.

It did not move.

The clear sound of dripping water echoed through the cavern, accompanied by the fierce howl of the wind.

Ming Jing blinked.

She lifted the hem of her robe, stood, and slowly walked toward the stone door.

Her fingers pressed against the wall as hesitation filled her heart.

She was debating whether she should enter now and whether she might disturb Murong Chi.

A closed stone door meant that Murong Chi was cultivating.

In the past, Ming Jing would never have been so tactless.

“If you go in now and anger Murong Chi, you’d better be careful not to lose your life.”

The ethereal voice suddenly sounded, startling the rarely conflicted Ming Jing.

She raised an eyebrow slightly, surprise appearing in her eyes.

Ever since she had ignored its demand that she sever her own heart meridians and die before Murong Chi, the voice had remained silent for nine years.

Ming Jing had assumed that the unknown existence had either left or disappeared.

She had not expected it to still be there.

It had remained silent for nine whole years.

Why had it suddenly chosen to speak now?

Suppressing her irritation, Ming Jing slowly parted her lips.

“If I die, wouldn’t that be exactly what you wanted?”

“But you already survived your death trial. If you die now, how is the plot supposed to continue?” the voice muttered quietly.

“Besides, if you don’t die according to the proper procedure, I won’t gain anything from your death.”

“I might even be destroyed because of it.”

A death trial.

The continuation of the plot.

The proper procedure.

Destroyed.

Ming Jing’s eyes flickered.

Silently committing those phrases to memory, she asked in a careless tone, “So you’re warning me because you want me to stay alive?”

“Of course.” The voice’s tone rose slightly. “You and I are one. I would never harm you.”

It spoke with such righteous conviction that Ming Jing found it amusing.

She could not help curving her lips and letting out a very soft, muffled laugh.

Lowering her head, she looked into the empty air with amusement in her eyes.

“You would never harm me?”

“…”

The air abruptly fell silent.

It became so quiet that even the breeze brushing through the grass could be heard clearly.

“Ahem.”

The ethereal voice coughed softly and muttered, “In any case, it would be best if you didn’t go inside right now.”

After saying that, the air returned to stillness.

The voice did not speak again, seemingly hiding within the void as it had before.

Ming Jing lowered her head.

Her gaze toward the ground became dark and brooding as the mocking curve at the corner of her lips disappeared.

Her right hand lightly traced the raised patterns on the stone door.

She released a faint sigh and turned, intending to return to the white-jade couch.

“Pfft!”

A sudden, muffled groan came from within the stone chamber.

It was followed by several hurried gasps from a woman, mingled with the clanging of chains.

Together, the sounds resembled an obscure and discordant song.

Unlike before, when the sounds would cease after only a few breaths, the gasping continued for a long time.

It came intermittently, accompanied by faint coughing so severe that it nearly sounded heart-rending.

Ming Jing stopped.

She returned to the entrance of the stone chamber and raised her eyes, her expression composed.

Then she reached out and pushed open the heavy stone door.

Amid a thunderous rumble and surging currents of air, she strode inside.

The moment she saw the scene upon the cold-jade ice bed, her steps abruptly halted.

Winding trails of blood stained the crystal-clear cold jade.

They ran over the edge of the bed and dripped onto the floor, gradually spreading into what resembled a vast sea.

The woman in red sat in the middle of the pool of blood with her head lowered, silent.

Her legs were bent, and broken lengths of chain lay beside her feet.

Blood poured continuously from her ankles.

Her white hair hung loose, concealing most of her snow-pale back.

Her red robe had been torn to pieces.

Beneath it, glimpses of snow-white skin could be seen—so pale that it hardly seemed to belong to a living being, as though she had come from the depths of the Nine Netherworlds.

“Murong Chi.”

Ming Jing stood beside the cold-jade bed and called her name softly.

Murong Chi raised her head.

Her lips were deathly pale, and her face was so translucent that it seemed ready to dissolve into the air.

She resembled a ghost that had crawled from a sea of blood.

Her aura was weak and listless.

Moist light shimmered within her eyes, tangled with a trace of dazed confusion.

It looked as though she might evaporate into the air at any moment.

Ming Jing froze where she stood.

Looking at Murong Chi like this, she frowned, unable to identify the emotion rising in her heart.

She only instinctively softened her voice.

Bending down, she looked at Murong Chi with gentle warmth.

“What are you doing?”

“I was breaking the chains around my ankles.”

Murong Chi’s voice was very soft.

A trace of pride and self-satisfaction could faintly be seen in her eyes.

She caught the end of Ming Jing’s hanging sleeve, and the corner of her lips curved upward.

“Ming Jing, I broke them.”

Her smile was clearly pure and bright.

Yet beneath it lay an undisguised desolation that pierced straight through the air and into the soul, so sorrowful it could hardly be described.

No one understood better than Ming Jing what kind of bleeding, shattered heart was hidden beneath that smile.

Her own heart seemed to be struck by something, and her breathing paused.

Her gaze flickered when she saw a torn section of Murong Chi’s clothing slip down as the woman lifted her head.

Ming Jing reached for an outer robe lying at the head of the bed and draped it over her.

Then she sat beside her in silence, unable to think of anything to say.

Chains.

Red chains, the color of blood.

It was also Murong Chi’s favorite color.

They connected to some unknown point within the void and imprisoned Murong Chi’s freedom.

Within this cavern dwelling, she was invincible.

She could alter heaven and earth and possessed mysterious, overwhelming power.

But only within this cavern.

Because she could not leave it.

Rumors in the Human Realm claimed that a calamitous great demon had been sealed beneath Wuchang Mountain.

The astral winds generated by the seal were said to be capable of tearing apart anything in existence.

Those outside could not enter.

Those inside could not leave.

It was as though the place had been cut off from the world and abandoned by heaven and earth.

That was what the rumors and ancient records stated.

Only after arriving here did Ming Jing learn that none of it had been exaggerated.

The seal beneath the cliff was terrifying.

An aura capable of destroying heaven and earth surrounded the entire area.

A bottomless abyss.

A thousand-year-old cold pool.

A deep, dark cavern.

Together, they imprisoned the freedom of a single living being.

Ming Jing did not know how long Murong Chi had been trapped here.

She only knew that the legend had already existed for a very long time by the time she became old enough to remember it.

The terror of Wuchang Mountain went without saying.

That was why Ming Jing had often wondered how she had managed to pass through the astral winds and fall into the cold pool.

How, after escaping the undercurrent, had she crawled into this cavern with a body so broken it was nearly crippled?

Setting aside her unyielding defiance and pride, there had to be another reason.

She could not think of one.

Therefore, she could only attribute it to the plot, the script, and her role as cannon fodder, burying the question deep within her heart.

That meant the chains that had imprisoned Murong Chi for so many years had to be unimaginably profound.

Even the black-iron chains forged from Red Lotus Karmic Fire had been destroyed by a casual pinch of Murong Chi’s fingers.

Yet these blood-colored chains had nearly exhausted all her strength.

Breaking them might mark the beginning of something.

Ming Jing remembered what Murong Chi had asked before entering the stone chamber, and her expression shifted.

She lowered her head.

Murong Chi leaned backward and curled her entire body into Ming Jing’s arms.

Ming Jing sighed silently and wrapped her arms around her from behind.

Asura energy gathered at her fingertips.

She lifted Murong Chi’s bloodstained ankle and gently covered it with her palm.

Slowly, she rubbed across the skin, wiping away the blood as well as healing the gruesome wound beneath it.

Asura energy could heal Murong Chi’s injuries.

This was something Ming Jing had discovered while studying the Ancient Asura Art.

She did not know whether it worked on every nonhuman living being, on all ancient demons, or only on Murong Chi.

Nor did she know whether it was connected to their life-and-death contract.

She did not need to know.

It was enough that it worked on Murong Chi.

After finishing, Ming Jing cleaned her own hands.

Lowering her head, she spoke gently.

“The next time something like this happens, you can call me.”

Murong Chi raised her eyes and stared at her.

Ming Jing’s expression did not change.

“If you call me, I’ll stay beside you. That way, you won’t have to remain in pain for so long after being injured.”

“I already know what the most miserable and undignified state in this world looks like. I have no curiosity about what you look like at your worst.”

“So you don’t need to worry about anything in front of me.”

“After all, we made a transaction. We are partners.”

Her gaze was calm and composed.

She spoke as though she were discussing the day’s weather.

Murong Chi watched her for a long time, her eyes flickering.

Then she abruptly raised her foot and kicked the broken pieces of chain off the bed.

Her voice was as cold as solid ice.

“There won’t be a next time.”

Despite those icy words, she reached out in the next moment and hooked an arm around Ming Jing’s neck, pressing even closer.

She rested her head against Ming Jing’s shoulder and listened to the steady beat of her heart beside her ear.

With her eyes closed, she looked as though she had fallen asleep.

Ming Jing watched her for a while before calmly looking away.

Her gaze swept over the shattered blood-colored chains beneath the bed, gradually darkening.

The heavy emotions rolling through her heart eventually dissolved into the demonic aura surrounding her.

A very long time passed.

So long that the place where Murong Chi leaned against Ming Jing’s chest gradually grew numb, and the skin pressed together became hot and burning.

Murong Chi finally released her.

The moment she opened her eyes, her gaze became cold and severe.

It was as though the translucent figure that had seemed ready to dissolve into the murky air had merely been Ming Jing’s illusion.

“Have you finished regulating your breathing?”

Murong Chi’s cool voice echoed through the spacious stone chamber.

“Yes.”

Ming Jing lowered her head and straightened her disordered clothes.

Even after she had arranged every fold neatly, Murong Chi still had not spoken.

Ming Jing raised her eyes with faint anticipation and met a smiling gaze in which coldness and indifference blended together.

“Ask whatever you wish to ask,” Murong Chi said.

She straightened, took a soft cushion, and placed it behind her.

Then she relaxed and leaned lazily against it, extending her legs in a comfortable posture.

Ming Jing exhaled.

Her fingers drew circles upon the hem of her robe.

“I have nothing to ask.”

Murong Chi’s tone became playful.

“You may have nothing to ask, but this sovereign does.”

She paused.

Looking at Ming Jing, she slowly spoke.

“Do you want to go back?”

Ming Jing’s fingers abruptly stopped.

She struggled to remain calm, but emotion still leaked into her trembling voice.

“Go back where?”

She threw the question back at Murong Chi despite already knowing the answer.

Murong Chi did not mind in the slightest.

Half-reclining against the bed, her snow-white hair fell around her and lifted in the current of air.

Her tone became distant.

“Back above the cliff.”

“Back to the Human Realm. Back to the mortal world.”

“You and I will go together.”

“Are you willing?”

Author’s Note

Daily life beneath the cliff: No

Daily blood-vomiting beneath the cliff: Yes