The Light of the Righteous Path Has Gone Offline - Chapter 3

When Ming Jing opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the dim, shadowed stone wall of the cavern dwelling.

The faint sound of running water drifted from somewhere in the distance.

She was lying on the hard stone floor beneath the white-jade couch. The moment her consciousness cleared, pain surged through her entire body.

“Huh? You’re still alive?” The voice sounded extremely surprised.

Ming Jing ignored it.

She looked upward. The white-jade couch was empty, as though the breathtaking figure she had seen before losing consciousness had been nothing more than an illusion.

Demonic aura and sword aura clashed violently within her heart meridians. Her injuries had penetrated deep into her bones, while the Black Lotus Mark between her brows continued to devour her vitality.

No one had saved her.

Ming Jing withdrew her gaze and lay flat on her back. Her dark eyes fixed upon a single point on the cavern ceiling as she emptied her mind.

“How do you know my name?”

A cool voice broke the silence, devoid of the slightest emotion.

In an instant, it reminded Ming Jing of the bone-piercing chill of the thousand-year-old cold pool—the kind that could freeze one’s very soul.

It took an enormous amount of effort for her to prop herself up.

Turning her head, she saw the woman dressed in brilliant red brocade, the vivid color setting the darkness ablaze.

She stood to one side of the cavern dwelling. Exquisite dark patterns decorated the hem of her robes, and at the end of those patterns was a touch of magnificent crimson.

Blood.

She was not an illusion.

Ming Jing drew in a ragged breath.

The metallic sweetness in her throat irritated her lungs and heart, and she immediately began coughing uncontrollably. Broken, hoarse sounds escaped her lips.

A shadow fell over her head.

The woman who had been standing in the distance approached at an unhurried pace, her steps languid and leisurely. The chains she dragged struck the ground with loud metallic clangs.

When she drew closer, an icy aura carrying a faint fragrance drifted through the air.

She stared deeply at Ming Jing for a long time.

Ming Jing was coughing so violently it seemed her heart and lungs might tear apart. She had no strength to pay attention to the woman as thick blood trickled from her lips, drop by drop.

She raised a hand to wipe it away, but an external force suddenly seized her chin and compelled her to lift her head.

At some point, the woman in robes redder than flame had crouched before her.

With long, pale fingers, she held Ming Jing’s chin and brushed away the blood at the corner of her lips.

Her tone was calm and unhurried.

“Tell me. Why do you know my name?”

Ming Jing’s breathing stopped for an instant.

Under the pressure of that powerful, mysterious aura, she raised her eyes and met a pair of dark, lightless pupils at close range.

Reflected within their pitch-black depths was her own miserable figure, dressed in bloodstained robes.

Neither of them spoke.

For a time, only the sound of flowing water and dripping blood filled the silent cavern dwelling.

At last, the hand Ming Jing had braced against the floor lost all its strength.

Her barely supported body collapsed once more, making her ruined appearance seem even more wretched.

The woman calmly withdrew her bloodstained hand.

She neither helped Ming Jing up nor cared about the sharp gasp that escaped her from the bone-deep pain.

Dragging a length of chain behind her, she rose and sat upon the white-jade couch.

Her voice remained cool.

“If you lose consciousness again, you won’t wake up.”

That was true.

If Ming Jing fainted again, she really would die.

She understood that perfectly.

After answering softly, “Yes,” she lowered her hand and pressed it against the gruesome, gaping wound in her leg.

Her body curled into a trembling ball. She forced herself to turn over and sit within the pool of her own blood, her lips as white as paper.

“Ming Jing, you aren’t actually going to tell her the truth, are you?”

“My existence cannot be exposed. You absolutely cannot tell her about me!”

“If I’m exposed, I’ll disappear.”

“And if I disappear, you won’t survive either.”

The voice anxiously poured words into Ming Jing’s mind. Beneath its urgency, there seemed to be traces of fear and worry.

Ming Jing paid it no attention.

Her gaze focused upon the woman sitting on the white-jade couch.

Slowly, she parted her lips. Her voice was intermittent, hoarse, and dry.

“When I fell from the cliff, a voice told me that I would plunge into a thousand-year-old cold pool.”

“The undercurrent within the cold pool would lead to a deep cavern, and my corpse would help the cavern’s master break free from her seal.”

“The cavern’s master is named Murong Chi.”

Biting her lip, Ming Jing drew in a deep breath.

She staggered to her feet and met the red-robed woman’s gaze.

Her voice was clear and cold.

“You are the master of this cavern. That means you are Murong Chi.”

The woman had been watching her the entire time.

Her gaze shifted from casual indifference to something deep and foreboding.

“I am indeed Murong Chi.”

After confirming it, she asked Ming Jing, “Where did that voice come from?”

Ming Jing shook her head. Cold sweat trickled down the side of her forehead.

“I don’t know.”

Everything she said was true.

She genuinely did not know where the voice came from.

It had warned her not to reveal its existence, but Murong Chi was so powerful. If Ming Jing could not earn her trust, what difference would it make if she did not die immediately?

She would still be unable to escape death in the end.

Murong Chi nodded.

She neither said that she believed Ming Jing nor that she did not.

Her eyes remained deep and inscrutable as she continued questioning her.

“A corpse?”

Murong Chi’s voice was exceptionally pleasant.

As she spoke those two words, the final syllable curled upward, echoing through the lonely cavern dwelling with an enchanting, teasing quality.

Even though Ming Jing was on the verge of death, her mind still drifted uncontrollably for a moment.

“Yes. I was supposed to be carried into this cavern by the cold pool’s undercurrent.”

“Supposed to?” Murong Chi could not help laughing softly.

Ming Jing stared at her.

When her gaze touched the faintly mocking curve of Murong Chi’s lips, she paused, and a trace of emotion entered her voice.

“Yes. I was only supposed to.”

“There has never been any such thing as what should or should not happen in this world.”

There were only predetermined outcomes.

“And the outcome is that I escaped the current and was still alive when I met you.”

Although death was already close at hand.

“Why did you come looking for me?”

Murong Chi shifted her position on the couch.

She placed both feet on the floor and leaned backward, her expression languid and unconcerned.

“To ask for help,” Ming Jing said, enunciating each word. “And to make an exchange.”

“If my corpse could help you break the seal after I died, then surely I can be of even greater help while I am alive.”

Ming Jing stared at Murong Chi with wide-open eyes.

Yet the figure within her vision gradually blurred and began swaying from side to side.

Sword aura continued rampaging through her body.

Darkness flooded her vision.

Ming Jing smiled bitterly.

She knew it was not Murong Chi who was swaying. Her own body simply could no longer support a standing position.

Blood flowed from her wounds once more, as though it would not stop until every last drop had drained from her body.

Falling straight backward would naturally hurt.

But Ming Jing had almost become numb to pain by now, so perhaps she would not feel anything.

She tried to amuse herself with that thought as her body toppled stiffly backward.

Something flashed at the edge of her vision.

The expected cloud of dust never rose.

Instead, her blood-soaked body seemed to fall into a soft embrace.

“Why didn’t you call it a transaction?”

Murong Chi’s voice sounded above her head.

Then something cold parted Ming Jing’s lips and placed a medicinal pill inside her mouth.

Ming Jing swallowed the pill along with the blood in her throat.

Her unfocused eyes gradually cleared, revealing an enlarged view of an incomparably beautiful face.

Murong Chi’s exquisitely sculpted features were breathtaking, her brows raised with striking confidence.

She held Ming Jing in her arms and looked down at her from close range.

Blood stained Murong Chi’s red robes, but she did not care.

“Answer me.”

Why had she not called it a transaction?

Ming Jing parted her lips, yet she could not form a single word.

At last, she whispered, “It’s only a manner of speaking.”

Murong Chi scoffed.

The curve of her lips deepened, and the hostility within her eyes grew heavier.

Facing that gaze, Ming Jing felt that Murong Chi probably understood perfectly.

She could not help laughing mockingly at herself.

“Who are you?”

Murong Chi wrapped one arm around Ming Jing’s waist while stroking her face with the other.

The icy touch irritated her open wounds.

When Murong Chi’s hand came away covered in blood, she narrowed her eyes, seeming strangely excited.

Ming Jing instinctively curled inward.

The air between their mingling breaths felt scorching.

They were too close—so close that Ming Jing found it difficult to adjust.

“I am Ming Jing.”

“What is your identity?”

Murong Chi traced the contours of her face with her fingertips while carrying her toward the white-jade couch.

Her movements were gentle and painstakingly careful, as though she were handling an unparalleled treasure.

“The Wanxiang Dao Sect.”

Ming Jing tried to ignore the faint itching and pain on her face.

She allowed the hand to manipulate her body while keeping her eyes fixed upon Murong Chi.

The moment those words fell, Murong Chi’s steps stopped.

A darkness and hostility capable of swallowing everything surged from the depths of her eyes.

The fingers resting against Ming Jing’s face began trembling.

Then Murong Chi abruptly released her, throwing her onto the stone floor.

The instant Ming Jing’s back struck the ground, dense waves of pain spread through her body.

This proved that being gravely injured did not prevent someone from feeling pain.

In fact, it only made everything hurt even more.

Ming Jing clenched her fists and swallowed the metallic sweetness rising in her throat.

Then she continued.

“The chief disciple.”

“I was once the chief disciple of the Wanxiang Dao Sect.”

A long silence filled the air.

The agony within her body and the steady loss of vitality never stopped for even half a moment.

Ming Jing lay beneath the white-jade couch and raised her head to look at the devastatingly beautiful woman above her.

“Please save me.”

“The chief disciple of the Wanxiang Dao Sect. What a noble identity!”

Murong Chi repeated the words.

Covering her lips, she began laughing softly.

“A lofty disciple of a sacred stronghold is actually begging me for help?”

The more she thought about it, the funnier she found it.

Her laughter was melodious and pleasant, filling the vast cavern dwelling with joyful echoes.

Ming Jing lowered her head and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Her deathly pale lips were stained brilliant red.

“Yes.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Rumors in the Human Realm say that a calamitous great demon is sealed beneath the cliffs of Wuchang Mountain.”

“A calamitous great demon?”

Murong Chi repeated those four words and could not help laughing softly once more.

A crimson drop of Ming Jing’s blood had splashed across her brow, making her appear even more bewitching and dazzling.

“You know I am a demon, yet you still beg me to save you?”

“I do.”

Ming Jing clenched her fists and writhed from the pain.

“I only want to survive.”

She only wanted to survive.

At those words, Murong Chi’s heart trembled.

Confusion seemed to flash through her eyes.

She lowered her gaze and looked down at the blood-soaked woman beneath her, examining Ming Jing seriously for the first time.

Bloodstained robes.

The stench of blood.

A body drenched in blood.

A black lotus bloomed between her brows.

It was a brand left by Mo Daotai, signifying that its bearer had colluded with the demon race and was a criminal of the Human Realm.

Demonic aura had penetrated her bones.

Sword aura raged through her body.

She did not have long to live.

Her sword bones had been shattered, and all her meridians had been severed.

Saving her would be troublesome.

But once healed, she would be extremely useful.

Even without considering the talent and strength represented by her former status as chief disciple of the Wanxiang Dao Sect, the fact that she had escaped the cold pool’s undercurrent and could still stand despite having every meridian severed was enough to demonstrate Ming Jing’s exceptional nature.

Moreover, she had no other choice now.

Ming Jing needed her.

Murong Chi was the prisoner, while Ming Jing was the one who had once stood above others.

And yet, at this moment, Murong Chi was the master.

Could she also become the one who controlled another person’s life?

Murong Chi’s thoughts drifted for a moment.

Then she heard her own icy voice echo through the cavern dwelling.

“Dual-cultivate with me, and I will save your life.”