Chapter 17: Was It Because of You?

All day she hunted geese, only to have her eyes pecked out by one; this was precisely her fate, and Wen Jinge could not help but feel aggrieved. In "Sword God of the Heavenly Pulse," Qiao Yu was the protagonist, a scapegoated hero who ultimately became the villain. Logically, now that she was cast as the villain, Qiao Yu should be the legitimate hero—such was the rule of the world. How could things be so infuriating otherwise?

No, that couldn’t be right!

Wen Jinge was startled by the notion that had surfaced in her mind. In "Sword God of the Heavenly Pulse," she was the scapegoat, so why couldn’t Qiao Yu have been one too? Whose burden, then, had Qiao Yu borne? What classic tropes existed in stories aimed at male readers?

Of course!

"The hero who slays the dragon eventually becomes the dragon."

The dragon—in "Sword God of the Heavenly Pulse," the dragon was most likely the obscure Demon Lord, whose power rivaled Qiao Yu's. Qiao Yu defeated the Demon Lord twice before finally sealing the entrance to the demon realm, but the Demon Lord’s true fate was never revealed. Perhaps, the Qiao Yu who survived was actually the Demon Lord.

More than that...

Wen Jinge’s gaze remained fixed on the tree above them. The upside-down tree drifted closer, circling around her and Qiao Yu.

What if Qiao Yu had been replaced at that very moment?

Wen Jinge’s talent was extraordinary; her second-tier cultivation owed much to her master’s favor and her senior brothers’ constant assistance. One could say that the entire Xuanyun Sect had poured its resources into nurturing her—but even then, it had taken twenty years.

How could Qiao Yu, subjected to such unfair treatment, rise to the rank of Sword God in less than ten years unless he was the Demon Lord incarnate? There were plenty of people born with sword potential in this world, many of whom were overlooked. If anyone could become a Sword God just by being provoked, the world would be crawling with them.

"Senior brother..." Perhaps it was due to the environment in which he’d grown up, but even though he couldn’t see Wen Jinge’s face clearly, Qiao Yu could sense her emotions.

Wen Jinge was lost in thought, frustrated, anxious, astonished, and fearful...

These emotions unsettled Qiao Yu. He asked uncertainly, "Are we really no match for it?"

Wen Jinge was silent.

She took a deep breath. Qiao Yu—she needed to teach him properly; she couldn’t afford to be so casual anymore.

The tree’s shadow still danced. Suddenly, it accelerated, lunging at Qiao Yu. Wen Jinge shoved him aside and charged straight at the tree herself. "If you are who I suspect, speak up; everything can be negotiated! I know you understand human speech."

"Senior brother!" Qiao Yu exclaimed, alarmed, emerging from the other side of the tree. "Senior brother! Be careful! This tree—it’s, it’s grown hands!"

As soon as they got out of the barrier this time, she was determined to take Qiao Yu down the mountain and put him through some proper trials.

He was too noisy!

A god ought to be aloof, silent. Qiao Yu’s current flustered demeanor was anything but professional—how could he ever become a Sword God at this rate?

The upside-down tree slowly fragmented. Wen Jinge, afraid Qiao Yu would drag them down, grabbed his collar and stood at the base of the trunk. "Quiet!"

The tree’s branches peeled off in chunks. As Qiao Yu had said, they indeed resembled hands.

Eight hands sprouted from a skull, which was hurled from above, rolling and clattering, its arms colliding with sharp, scraping sounds. The trunk they stood upon also began to change—after a burst of dark red light, it transformed into a scale, like a leaf-shaped boat sailing through the night, carrying them forward.

"Senior brother..." Qiao Yu was terrified, sweat soaking his back, his words faltering. "We, we..."

"Snake scales!" Wen Jinge smacked him on the head. "Don’t be so ignorant."

"Oh." Qiao Yu nodded, looking at Wen Jinge standing tall beside him.

He thought: Senior brother isn’t afraid at all. I really am useless.

His spirits sank even lower.

Wen Jinge was genuinely unafraid; she had come here to gain experience and maybe spar with some ignorant beasts.

But the Saintly Light Ruin Python was highly intelligent. Since they’d come to its territory and been invited as guests, it was time to talk!

Inside, it was the python’s domain; outside, hers. If it came down to a real contest, who could say who would win?

"Human! Are you the one who wants to talk?"

Wen Jinge hadn’t seen the python in its entirety, only two huge white lanterns as large as doors. She wondered to herself how many bowls of snake soup could be made from it.

The Saintly Light Ruin Python was equally surprised upon seeing Wen Jinge. Hearing her commanding tone, it had assumed one of the elders from outside had come to rescue their disciples. But when she drew near, it realized she was a mere mortal, not even possessing a ninth-tier cultivation.

"You lost something?" Wen Jinge went straight to the point—there was no need to mince words with a great demon.

"Yes. As soon as you humans entered, something was lost. I don’t know which Mystic Master tampered with it."

Wen Jinge pretended to ponder. "Why must it be a Mystic Master?"

"Who else?" The python spoke calmly, not seeing a small human as any threat.

"How much do you know about demons? How old are you?"

"Demons? Impossible. If there were any, I’d know." The python spoke with gritted teeth. Wen Jinge guessed it had been harmed by demons before and was about to change the subject when it continued, "I’m about six hundred years old now! Back then, the Diviner was still a child. He tricked me into coming here. The youngsters say he became sect leader?"

Wen Jinge’s lips twitched. What odd fate!

Qiao Yu instinctively took Wen Jinge as his anchor, hiding behind her. Goodness! That was his grandmaster—would he be eaten in retaliation?

"He’s dead," Wen Jinge said.

"Dead? Good. That’s for the best." The python murmured to itself.

A single tear dropped.

Wen Jinge was taken aback—the python was crying.

"His disciple often visited, surname Wen. The others were afraid, but that little girl would sneak in to keep me company."

What a coincidence! Wen Jinge chuckled inwardly.

"She was the only one who could fight me to a draw. If not for her, I wouldn’t have advanced so quickly, nor lived so long."

What a coincidence! The draw was no longer possible.

"I don’t know why," the python’s eyes grew even larger as it drew closer to Wen Jinge, "but your scent seems very familiar. That’s why I had the scale bring you here."

"Hehehehe..." Wen Jinge could only give a foolish laugh.

If she admitted it, her disguise would be ruined; if she denied it, she wouldn’t die either!

Thinking this, she wiped the smile from her face. "Tell us what you lost first. We’ll help you find it."

"Human words cannot be trusted. I was tricked by that master and disciple for years. They promised to visit, but never came."

"Senior!" Qiao Yu stepped forward, kneeling. "The two you mentioned are my master and grandmaster. If you don’t mind, I can ask my master to let me visit you in the future."

"Oh?" The python paused, its expression suddenly fierce. "Is it because of you?"