Chapter 84: Kiss Me, Prove This Isn’t a Dream

“WOOOHOOO!”

The moment the grand doors to the Bailing Pavilion Master’s chamber slammed shut behind him on the top floor of Xuanfeng Pavilion, He Yimo threw his arms up in the air, letting out a huge sigh of relief. The tension drained out of him like air from a punctured balloon. But then, the thought of Yun Jin, still unseen and unaccounted for (at least by him), spurred him into action. He practically sprinted down the stairs.

Inside the chamber, however, the atmosphere was decidedly less jubilant.

“Pavilion Master…” Jinyan murmured from her shadowed corner, her voice hesitant and concerned as she watched the red-gowned figure behind the screen, who was now slumped and silent. “You… You really scared me just now!” Recalling the previous scene, even though Yuan Xinyao hadn’t been truly harmed, Jinyan couldn’t help but feel a chill. What if that spoiled young master hadn’t known his own strength? What if he’d actually slashed the Pavilion Master’s face?!

“Sigh… What else could I do? He’s the little white-eyed wolf I raised…” Yuan Xinyao’s voice was weary from behind the screen. “Besides, tonight… it was my fault to begin with. I provoked him first. Now that He Yimo’s angry, I had to at least pretend to be outmatched, let him vent some of that frustration… Otherwise, if I never give him a chance to get the upper hand, what if his confidence as a cultivator gets crushed later on?!” She sighed again, slumping further onto the chaise longue, utterly exhausted.

As Jinyan’s words brought the memory back, Yuan Xinyao closed her eyes. That cold, disgusted hiss of “Bitch…” echoed in her ears. Her eyes snapped open. She pressed a hand to her chest, but even so, a moment later, an uncontrollable tremor, a violent spasm, ran through her body.

“Pavilion Master,” Jinyan said, her voice tinged with frustrated helplessness. “If you’re going to coddle him anyway, why bother deliberately provoking him in the first place…?”

Hearing this, Yuan Xinyao pouted behind the screen, clearly irked. “Why shouldn’t I say a few words about that woman? Jinyan, you’ve been with me for so long, don’t you understand what those ‘righteous sect’ types are like?” She seemed to bristle, sitting up straighter, her voice rising with agitation. “Those female cultivators from the righteous sects are all bad news! That Mo Yuyan, back at the Grand Tutor’s Fu, daring to look down on people like that! The only reason I didn’t have them all captured and sold off was out of consideration for He Yimo, you know! I was being merciful!” She finished with a little huff, turning her head away, sulking.

The feeling of being stared at with such murderous intent by the boy she’d practically raised… only Yuan Xinyao could truly understand how that felt. At the time, she had thought she knew He Yimo’s limits, so she hadn’t taken his initial aggression seriously. But in those two seconds of her carelessness, when she’d finally decided to get serious, He Yimo had already appeared behind her. Before she could react, his arm was already locked around her throat.

Honestly, she’d almost been choked unconscious. Her first sensation was the inability to breathe. The sudden, lethal danger made her heart pound violently, her mind blanking out from the impact of being slammed back onto the chaise. She’d been completely at his mercy in that moment. Although, with her true strength, she could have easily turned the tables and killed He Yimo, when that dagger was shoved into her mouth… the instinctive, physiological fear response had overwhelmed her willpower. The terrifying speed and ferocity He Yimo had displayed… even she, a seasoned veteran of the treacherous Western Regions, had rarely encountered anything like it!

Of course, besides He Yimo’s own uncanny skills, it was also possible that his true strength was just so vastly different from Yuan Xinyao’s ingrained, stereotyped image of him. If she had been truly wary of him from the start, He Yimo probably wouldn’t have had those crucial two or three seconds to use his illusion techniques and get close.

And beyond that, there was something else that bothered Yuan Xinyao greatly: the blackish-red, scaled armguard on He Yimo’s arm, and the way his veins had pulsed with that eerie, dark red light! That definitely wasn’t any cultivation technique she had taught him. And it certainly wasn’t any righteous immortal art that goody-two-shoes Mo Yuyan would have taught him.

So… Just how many secrets was He Yimo really hiding? And for all these years… how on earth had he managed to cultivate in secret, right under her nose?

“Jinyan,” Yuan Xinyao said suddenly, her voice sharp.

From the corner of the chamber, the black-clad woman’s eyebrow twitched. She dissolved into a swirl of purple butterflies and reappeared behind the screen, kneeling on one knee. “Pavilion Master, what are your orders?”

“Rejoice, you have a new assignment. No more lazing around Xuanfeng Pavilion day after day.” Yuan Xinyao pursed her lips, gazing down at Jinyan’s violet, demonic eyes.

A flicker of excitement lit up in the attendant’s eyes, a predatory gleam. She lowered her gaze respectfully. “Who does the Pavilion Master wish to… eliminate?”

“Kill that little perver—” Yuan Xinyao started, then caught herself abruptly. She sat up, leaned forward, and playfully pinched Jinyan’s cheeks with both hands. “Kill, kill, kill! Jinyan, when did you turn into such a murder-obsessed madwoman?”

“It’s not…” Jinyan mumbled, her voice comically distorted as her cheeks were squished, a sound utterly at odds with her usual cool demeanor.

When Yuan Xinyao finally released her, Jinyan knelt properly at her feet again, a hint of resignation in her expression. “Pavilion Master, it’s not that Jinyan enjoys killing. It’s just that, in this jianghu, on the black market… assassination commissions always pay the most.”

“Besides,” she added, her gaze dropping, “Jinyan still needs to pay for her little sister’s medical treatments…”

Yuan Xinyao stared at her, her phoenix eyes narrowing slightly as she recalled a certain little girl who worked the night shift at the Immortal Alliance Tavern. She smiled softly, her expression softening. From her robes, she produced a pouch filled with dark, glittering mineral ores and handed it to Jinyan.

“You’ve done enough killing over the years. I’m afraid one day you’ll succumb to Qi deviation, and then how would I explain that to Jinyu?”

“Besides, Xizhou City has been relatively peaceful lately. You’ve had a good few months rest here at Xuanfeng Pavilion…”

“So, this time,” Yuan Xinyao continued, her voice taking on a lighter, more playful tone, the foot beneath her robes beginning to swing again, the faint jingle of (now re-attached) bells tinkling softly, “this Pavilion Master has a mission for you that doesn’t involve killing, but still pays well. Are you willing to accept?”

Jinyan clutched the pouch of ores, bowing her head immediately. “Whatever my mistress wishes, Jinyan will not refuse!”

“Good! Then pack your things tonight, and say your goodbyes to Jinyu… First thing tomorrow morning, you will secretly follow He Yimo back to Wuji Sect!”

“Huh?”

“What ‘huh’? This Pavilion Master has only two requirements for you. Listen carefully!”

“Ah…”

“First, protect He Yimo. Don’t let him die. Second, send daily reports on He Yimo’s activities.”

“That’s… That’s it? So simple?”

***

“The Bailing Pavilion Master has made all the arrangements for tonight. We’ll just stay here at Xuanfeng Pavilion.”

“Wangxue, Yun Jin, if you want anything else to eat, just order it. Put it on the Bailing Pavilion Master’s tab from the top floor…”

In the luxurious private room on the seventh floor, He Yimo had already shed his outer jacket. He’d swallowed a handful of various pills from his storage ring and was now casually handing a menu to the two ahoge-girls. Yun Jin was already stuffed, her little belly round and full, so the latter half of the feast had become Wangxue’s solo deer-demolition project.

“Young Master He, did… did your discussion go well?” Yun Jin asked softly. She’d gathered He Yimo’s discarded jacket from the sofa and had, quite naturally, followed him to the bathroom doorway.

He Yimo, who had been about to strip off more clothes, froze when he saw her. He turned, took a deep breath, and stared silently into her large, innocent eyes. Yun Jin blushed, looking down, suddenly flustered.

“Wh-What is it…? Is there something on my face…?” she stammered.

For a moment, two conflicting thoughts warred in He Yimo’s mind. First, his own words: Good girls shouldn’t be betrayed. Second, the profound despair he’d briefly felt back in the Bailing Pavilion. Now… here was this peaceful moment. His Little Senior Sister, the source of so much regret in his past life, stood before him, healthy, blushing, alive. The line between reality and the game blurred.

“Yun Jin,” he said, his voice strangely soft as he began to unbutton his shirt, “tell me… the you standing before me right now… are you the real you?”

“Wh-What do you mean?” Yun Jin blinked, completely bewildered. She didn’t understand his question, nor why he was suddenly undressing.

He Yimo pulled off his sweat-soaked undershirt. Seeing Yun Jin still holding his jacket, he quite naturally tossed the undershirt onto the pile in her arms. Yun Jin now held an armful of his dirty laundry, her expression one of mild shock. How had she suddenly become his personal maidservant?!

“Y-Young Master He,” she stammered, her face burning red down to her earlobes, “a-are these clothes… for me to wash?”

He Yimo, now bare-chested, fixed his gaze on her again, his expression strangely calm. “Yun Jin, I’m worried you’re an imposter. That the real Yun Jin… is already dead.”

“B-But… Yun Jin is Yun Jin! He Yimo, don’t scare me! What happened? What’s wrong?” Panic seized her. Clutching the bundle of clothes, she looked like she was about to burst into tears under his cold, intense gaze.

Seeing her so genuinely distressed, a faint, almost sad smile touched He Yimo’s lips. “Alright then, Yun Jin. Kiss me. Right now. Prove to me that you’re real… And if you can prove you’re not an imposter, then I won’t make you wash my clothes. After all, I could never bear to make the real Senior Sister Yun Jin do such menial labor.”

“Eh…? EHHHHH?!?!” Yun Jin stared at him, completely baffled by his logic. Yet, in his weary smile, she saw a complex mix of emotions: affection, worry, exhaustion, self-doubt… He didn’t seem to be joking. Without another thought, Yun Jin squeezed her eyes shut, stood on her tiptoes, leaned forward, and planted a soft, hesitant kiss on He Yimo’s cheek.

Afterwards, her face flaming, she asked timidly, “N-Now… Now can Young Master He tell if Yun Jin is an imposter or not?”

“…” He Yimo was momentarily stunned. He raised a hand, touching the spot on his cheek where the warmth of her lips lingered. For a fleeting second, it felt as if the boy who had died once on that top floor, had been reborn, his passion and hope for changing the course of this life’s story reignited. He gently pinched Yun Jin’s cheek, looking at her as if admiring a masterpiece, a Yun Jin who had far surpassed her original game counterpart, reborn and resilient.

“I’ve made my judgment,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “But I won’t tell you the result… unless you kiss me again.” He grinned.

This time, his teasing was unmistakable. Yun Jin, no matter how naive, could see the playful mischief in his eyes. “You! He Yimooo! Stop scaring me all the time!” She puffed out her cheeks, turned on her heel, and ran out of the bathroom, still clutching his dirty clothes.

He Yimo shrugged, knowing he’d pushed it a bit too far. He didn’t chase her, just pulled open the bathroom door and went in to take a shower. He’d just turned on the faucet when there was a knock on the door—

Swish! The bathroom door slid open. The girl stood there, a mountain of dirty clothes piled in her arms, obscuring her face, only the tip of her ahoge visible, sticking straight up.

“WHOA! What are you doing, opening the door like that?!” He Yimo yelped, hastily grabbing a towel.

But the ahoge-girl at the door didn’t respond, her vision completely blocked by the laundry. “He Yimooo! Then I’ll ask you! Are you real, or an imposter?”

“Of course I’m real! Wait, no, close the door before we have this conversation!”

“If you kiss me, then Yun Jin will be able to tell if you’re real! And if you are real, then Yun Jin will wash the real He Yimo’s clothes! But if you don’t kiss me, then Yun Jin definitely won’t wash some imposter’s dirty laundry! Hmph!”

“—?”

***

“Yuyan, don’t panic!”

“He Yimo is, at best, a Foundation Establishment cultivator. He can’t even fly on a sword. We couldn’t find him on the Spirit Boat… How far could he possibly have gotten on foot in one night, especially with Yun Jin in tow?”

Under the starry night sky, Mu Yanran had followed the White-Robed Kensei back to Northfall Snow Village, landing in the ruins of the Divine Deer Shrine on the mountaintop. Mo Yuyan stood at the peak, her gaze fixed on the vast expanse below. Theoretically, as a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, Mo Yuyan’s perception should be able to cover a vast area. But now, no matter how much she expanded her spiritual sense, she couldn’t find a single trace of He Yimo or Yun Jin anywhere on Northfall Mountain. It was incredibly strange! As if He Yimo had simply vanished into thin air, right under her nose!

Either he’d been captured by enemies… Or he’d used some kind of high-speed transportation to leave Northfall rapidly, before Mo Yuyan even noticed! The latter seemed impossible. Even a Core Formation cultivator couldn’t fly a thousand li on a sword in one night and escape her detection range. Which left only one terrifying possibility!

“I promised that old Grand Tutor from the He Fu… that I would, at the very least, ensure the safety of his little great-grandson…” Mo Yuyan’s voice was strained, her anxiety palpable. “Now, He Yimo has vanished without a trace! How do you expect me to stay calm?!” The more she thought about it, the more frantic she became, her beautiful eyes scanning the mountains below, the spiritual energy around her starting to glow faintly around her eye sockets.

Beside her, Mu Yanran’s eyes flickered. She vaguely remembered seeing a young man and woman… skiing… on a cliff face last night. That direction… it wasn’t too far from Xizhou City… A thought sparked in Mu Yanran’s mind. She instinctively wanted to tell Mo Yuyan this clue.

But when she looked at the Kensei’s anguished face, Mu Yanran hesitated. Suddenly, she wasn’t quite so eager to help Mo Yuyan find He Yimo. After all… according to the organization’s intelligence, Gu Wanglan was scheduled to perform his sacrifice on the back mountain of Wuji Sect within the next two days. And given the progress of the Snow Village investigation, and the speed of the Spirit Boat… that plan might even be accelerated! Tonight! Chen Jianxin might encounter Gu Wanglan on the back mountain tonight! If Mu Yanran could somehow keep Mo Yuyan tied up here on Northfall Mountain… that would be one less unpredictable variable when Chen Jianxin was sacrificed by Gu Wanglan!

“Yuyan,” Mu Yanran said, her voice smooth and concerned. “Why don’t we split up? You search in that direction, and I’ll check the cliffs on the back mountain, the ones facing towards Xizhou City!”

***

Night. The moonlight shimmered.

On the back mountain of Wuji Sect, Gu Wanglan leaned against the blood-red vines coiled around the mountain god shrine’s sacrificial altar, his gaze vacant as he stared up at the twinkling stars. Suddenly, dark clouds drifted across the sky, and a blood-red, full moon appeared, partially obscured, yet pulsing with an eerie light. Instantly, it wasn’t just Gu Wanglan who jolted as if waking from a dream; the blood-red vines around the altar also began to writhe slowly, thirstily.

“Heh heh…” Gu Wanglan sat up, summoning his sword with a flick of his wrist, his gaze fixed on the distant Spirit Boat station. “Everything is ready. All that’s missing… is the Child of Prophecy!”

“Mo Yuyan,” he hissed, his voice filled with venomous hatred, “tonight, once I’ve sacrificed Chen Jianxin and seized his Innate Sword Saint Physique… I will personally cut you down in front of everyone! I will destroy that sword dao talent you’re so proud of! I will crush every last shred of your dignity!”

“If it weren’t for your lucky birth, born with that Frostfire Saint Physique… If I, who relied solely on hard work, hadn’t been suppressed by you for seven or eight damn years…! This time, it will be my turn!”

—