After Transmigrating into an Evil God - Chapter 43

Under the deity’s penetrating gaze, Wangyue suddenly grew tense.

That gaze was like a mirror hung high, perceiving both inner and outer, leaving her thoughts and actions with nowhere to hide. Thus both inside and out were laid bare completely, involuntarily giving rise to shame and guilt, making her only want to conceal herself.

Before Wangyue could become restless, the deity withdrew his gaze and asked, “You have an older sister?”

Wangyue was startled. “Yes…”

….

Wangyue did indeed have an older sister. They were born of the same mother, accompanying and relying on each other, intimate and mutually understanding, yet they differed greatly in both appearance and temperament.

Wangyue had jade-white fur like the full moon’s glow, while her sister was entirely ink-black, hence named Shuoyue.

Wangyue was skilled in medicine and had a gentle, shy nature. Shuoyue was proficient in dream arts and had a lively, curious temperament.

Several days ago, when the Dream-Eating Tapir was causing trouble, Wangyue had mentioned that she had temporarily filled the position of priestess for the divine office of dreams—this position rightfully belonged to Shuoyue.

In the beginning, the Medicine Deity and Dream Deity, Wangyue and Shuoyue, were a pair of twin deities sharing a shrine. In their altar, two statues of divine maidens always stood side by side.

But since six hundred years ago, the priestess position for the dream divine office had been temporarily filled by Wangyue, continuing to this day.

However, Wangyue’s mastery of dream arts ultimately could not compare to Shuoyue’s. Later, when she moved to Shuigu Town with the Yun family, believers who prayed to her for help with dream-related matters gradually diminished as well.

“Six hundred years ago…” Wangyue lowered her eyes, her voice steeped in sorrow.

Six hundred years ago, Wangyue’s cultivation was far inferior to today’s. She was then just a small demon who had not yet attained human form, and though Shuoyue’s cultivation was somewhat stronger than hers, it was still limited.

At that time, they had sought shelter with a great demon who aspired to attain the position of mountain god. Originally their cultivation was carefree and untroubled. But worldly affairs are unpredictable—disasters do not refrain from descending just because their probability is small, nor do tribulations become easy to overcome because people wish for it.

Wangyue often dreamed of that day when she was in the mountain forest, playing and frolicking with Shuoyue.

The sunlight was warm, the grass was soft, and the wind was gentle, carrying the verdant scent of grass seeds.

The scene was so relaxed and pleasant, yet the Wangyue in her dream was always filled with fear and unease.

The wind seemed to hide the scent of blood, the ground seemed laid with traps. She wanted to take Shuoyue and leave immediately, to flee this place, the farther the better.

But she could never escape.

Because this was not reality—this was only a dream, replaying that day from the past.

On that day, she had played on the grass with Shuoyue, completely unaware, when a snake demon that had concealed its aura suddenly lunged out!

It was a vile demon that cultivated by devouring essence and blood, with cultivation far exceeding theirs. By some unknown means, it had deceived the great demon protecting that place and come to hunt.

In her dream, Wangyue always tried different approaches. Sometimes they successfully escaped, sometimes they managed to kill the snake demon instead, sometimes they held out until the great demon protecting the area discovered them and they were both saved…

But every time, Wangyue was crying.

“Why are you crying?” Shuoyue would always comfort her, “Aren’t we both fine?”

No, no we’re not.

Wangyue always cried until her voice was hoarse.

This place was only her dream.

In reality, Shuoyue had pushed her away from the snake’s jaws. “Run quickly! Go find Grandpa Mountain God!”

Wangyue ran desperately, found the great demon who protected them and begged for help, but when they rushed back, only chaos and mottled bloodstains remained.

The snake demon’s trace was gone, and Shuoyue’s form… was also gone.

Wangyue nearly collapsed. She begged the great demon to help her search for a long time, but after searching the surrounding area, they found no trace of either the snake demon or Shuoyue.

These vile demons that devoured essence and blood were all cruel and cunning creatures. In places protected by divine path cultivators, they generally would not linger. After hunting, they would usually flee directly—confronting great cultivators capable of protecting a region was not worth it.

Therefore, Shuoyue had probably already…

Everyone told Wangyue the same thing.

Wangyue shut herself in the shrine. She dreamed repeatedly, repeatedly dreaming of that day.

“Don’t cry.” Shuoyue would always comfort her in the dream, “Aren’t we fine?”

Shuoyue… Shuoyue…

Wangyue couldn’t help but wonder—what if she had run faster then? Could Shuoyue have survived? What if she hadn’t fled but stayed with Shuoyue instead? Could they have had a chance to escape together? Could they have held out longer and had a chance to wait until the great demon protecting this place discovered them?

“Don’t be foolish, at most you’d both die together.” Shuoyue said in her dream.

“Shuoyue…” Wangyue trembled. This wasn’t the Shuoyue from her dream, this was…

“This is my image-retention technique. I don’t know when this retained image will be triggered, but… probably when you miss me very much, but I’m not by your side.” Shuoyue said with a smile, “But this image will only last three days, so don’t miss me too much!”

“We agreed to be happy, didn’t we?”

…..

“…I couldn’t bear to let her divine position simply dissipate. As long as someone still recites her name, it’s as if she’s still here. Later, I continued to respond to those prayers in her place, but I’m far inferior to her in this aspect. Now… it’s been a very long time since anyone has prayed to her name.” Wangyue said in a daze, her eyes already red-rimmed.

These words were truly cause for sighing. But six hundred years had passed, and the living must move forward.

Wangyue had not been trapped by the past; she simply couldn’t let go of that last connection. This would not become an insurmountable knot in her heart. If so, then for what reason had she been stuck at this step, unable to achieve demon godhood for hundreds of years?

“You carry two uncoalesced divine positions,” Li Chi said. “With another divine position interfering, your own divine position cannot coalesce.”

Wangyue’s lips trembled. Was Shuoyue’s divine position affecting her cultivation? But could she really be expected to give it up, to completely remove the last trace of Shuoyue?

“But…” the Earth God suddenly interjected, asking Li Chi in confusion, “The master of the Dream Deity divine position has already passed away. How could this masterless divine position interfere with her cultivation?”

It was not uncommon for divine path cultivators to hold multiple divine offices and positions. Never before had anyone heard of being unable to achieve cultivation because of holding multiple positions.

“What if the master of that other divine position has not passed away?” Li Chi said.

“What did you say?!” Wangyue rose abruptly, her voice trembling. “You said… you said…”

“She is still alive,” Li Chi said gently.

Tears suddenly fell from Wangyue’s eyes.

“When the day comes that you two reunite, after you return to her the power accumulated over these years from her divine position, you will be able to achieve demon godhood,” Li Chi said.

But Wangyue’s mind was no longer on this. She pleaded, “Is she well? Why hasn’t she returned all these years? Is she trapped somewhere? Can you tell me where she is? I want to go find her.”

“Do not force it.” Li Chi slowly shook his head, his distant gaze looking into the depths of the karmic threads. “The day of your reunion is not far off.”

Wangyue bit her lip. With her temperament, after being refused once, she would never ask a second time. But this was about Shuoyue!

She pleaded, “I beg you to tell me if she is safe. If… if she is in danger, please tell me! Whatever I can do…”

“Whatever?” Li Chi’s penetrating eyes looked at her.

Under the illumination of that gaze, Wangyue nodded firmly.

The deity waved his sleeve, and a qin appeared on the table. The instrument’s body was elegantly ancient, but its surface was empty—there were no strings.

The Earth God and Chi Zhenzi looked at this qin curiously. Its aura was ordinary, without spiritual energy fluctuations, appearing no different from a mortal qin of the human world. But the deity clearly would not produce a mortal qin at this moment. What was special about this qin?

The deity’s fingers brushed across the qin’s surface. “Can you see it?”

See what? The Earth God and Chi Zhenzi exchanged glances, both with confusion in their eyes. They saw nothing—the empty qin was still empty.

But Wangyue nodded. “I can faintly see one string.”

“Pluck it,” Li Chi said.

Wangyue did not hesitate. She raised her finger and plucked that barely visible string.

The string trembled, making no sound, yet it gathered all of Wangyue’s sorrow. The thread-thin string collected her grief and condensed it somewhat, transmitting a wave of invisible rhythmic vibration.

The sorrow diffused, lingering in the courtyard, gradually falling like a sob swallowed into the throat.

Wangyue suddenly collapsed into her seat, silent and dazed. All her sorrowful thoughts scattered with that single pluck, but her heart felt empty, making the longing even harder to resolve.

Li Chi’s eyes were vast and distant, as if looking into infinite emptiness. His finger pressed slightly in the air, and the karmic thread linking Wangyue and Shuoyue trembled lightly. A profound power descended from the deity’s fingertip, shrouding the karmic thread and transforming into invisible protection.

Wangyue’s heart trembled. She seemed to suddenly sense the intention from the other end of the karmic thread.

That was longing, that was… Shuoyue.

…..

In some distant unknown place, a Daoist in brocade robes and jade crown was walking. His bearing was dignified and imposing, making one feel at a glance that he was a person of the Way. On his shoulder, rather incongruously, perched a small entirely ink-black rabbit.

The black rabbit’s long ears suddenly twitched. The Daoist noticed and asked, “What’s wrong?”

The black rabbit silently shook its head, as if it had sensed nothing, as if it had misheard.

…..

In the Li Manor, Wangyue could now faintly sense Shuoyue’s direction. Though that direction was hazy and unclear, Wangyue was already eager to search for her.

“You two have your own destined meeting, but if you rush it, calamity may easily arise.”

The deity’s words fell like a pot of cold spring water. Wangyue forcibly calmed herself and asked, “I… I still cannot go seek her?”

“You may go, but before the time is right, it’s best not to make contact.”

“I understand.” Wangyue bowed in grateful thanks.

This matter concluded, and after all three guests had left, Li Chi furrowed his brow.

Earlier, when observing the karmic thread between Wangyue and Shuoyue, he had detected the influence of another karmic thread.

Karmic threads interfering and influencing each other was a common occurrence, but from that karmic thread affecting them, Li Chi had detected Qing Fu’s aura.

Had she not dissipated after leaving?

Yet Qing Fu had not taken the divine path of cultivation as Li Chi had previously guided her to. Her aura was stained with deep resentment and hostility.

Was she seeking revenge?

Li Chi looked toward the karmic threads connected to himself, found the one linked to Qing Fu among them, and looked within.