Chapter 48: I Am Your Senior Brother!

Wen Jinge’s expression was peculiar.

Ever since she had awakened, she felt that the people on this mountain treated her strangely, as though they were hiding something, with a deliberate air about them.

The reason she liked pestering Shan Hongxing was because he was devoted, interested only in the way of the sword.

To Wen Jinge, unlike the straightforward and simple-minded Lu Wei, Shan Hongxing was a pure and honest man.

That was also why she ordered her disciples to seek him out whenever they were in trouble.

Though Shan Hongxing was awkward in his ways, he would never falter in matters of importance. Besides, aside from Yuan Wenqing, her disciples on the mountain were all exceptionally bright and promising.

Lu Wei’s expression was even more peculiar.

It was true that he was a demon from ten thousand years ago, but even he had been tricked by Wen Jinge.

Now, having learned such a vast and tangled secret, what would come next? Was he about to be silenced?

A lackey?

Saints, immortals, gods...

Had they truly begun their machinations ten thousand years ago?

That suffocating feeling, as if his heart was being squeezed, returned once again.

“Pfft!”

In the secret chamber, Shan Hongxing spat out mouthfuls of blood. The two within the chamber simply stared at him, unmoving, like statues.

“Cough, cough, cough…” Shan Hongxing raged like a madman, destroying the furnishings within the chamber. “Gods, hypocrites with righteous facades; immortals, monsters clad in human skin; saints, man-eating fiends!”

Wen Jinge couldn’t help but raise her hand, nearly applauding—this speech was so evocative, she thought it would suit her own death scene perfectly. She must remember it.

Just then, a cold gaze swept over her, reminding her that she was eavesdropping.

She gave a silent, awkward smile, shrugged, and continued watching.

Lu Wei: …

“Lightning tribulation.” He laughed bitterly. “Only demons defy the will of heaven! And what is she? The monster you all became.”

After venting, his strength gave out. Wen Jinge could see the spiritual sea around him swelling, as if it might burst at any moment.

“If you go in now, it’s useless.” Lu Wei whispered, gripping her hand. “Besides, isn’t this just the scene you wanted to witness?”

“I just think it’s a waste.” Her brow remained furrowed, but considering Shan Hongxing’s taciturn nature, she knew if she pressed him, he likely wouldn’t say a thing.

She left—unburdened and free.

The sounds within the secret chamber rang out fiercely. To an outsider, it would seem as if someone inside was practicing some peerless martial art, never imagining that the master of Wind and Thunder Peak was in there, howling and cursing—no longer quite human, nor quite ghost, but clearly lost in madness.

After all, Lu Wei was an outsider, so he relinquished control to Qiao Yu to let him catch up.

“Master…” Qiao Yu did not understand what had happened, but it was clear her mood was heavy.

“Wait for me outside.” Wen Jinge looked at Qiao Yu, but her gaze pierced through him, falling on Lu Wei.

“You want to go in?” Her body switched seamlessly, now Lu Wei once more.

“A lackey... what comes to mind…” Wen Jinge tapped her temple. “Not all who borrow the power of heaven are immortals, but all must have paid the price required of immortals. I won’t ask about that, but at the rate he’s destroying himself, he has only a ten percent chance of surviving without becoming crippled.”

Lu Wei: “Strike while he’s down? Are you going to put him out of his misery?”

Wen Jinge gave a thumbs up. “The demon always bests the rest!”

Lu Wei: …

Qiao Yu: “Senior, Master and Senior Uncle Shan—they’ll be alright, won’t they?”

“Tell me, is your master just that calculating, or is it her constitution—wherever she goes, trouble follows?”

This time, it was Qiao Yu who fell silent.

“You’re a sword prodigy too, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re the same. They say your grandmaster and great-grandmaster were all dangerous characters, born sword prodigies like you.” Lu Wei shook his head. “No, if that’s true, your master should really be the sect leader!”

Qiao Yu fell silent once more.

Outside, the two stood in silence, while inside the cave chaos reigned.

“I had a little donkey, never tired no matter how far I rode. One day, I rode it to the market…”

“So, guess what happened?”

“Well, what happened?”

“It kicked up its heels.”

Wen Jinge, carrying a crystal lamp, looked uncertainly at the plaque above, then at the person inside. No sooner had she finished muttering to herself than she came face to face with a ghastly white visage.

“Ghost!” she shrieked, leaping away.

“Heh heh heh heh…” Shan Hongxing, hair disheveled, blood streaming from his seven orifices, half-open eyes barely making out Wen Jinge’s blurred figure, sneered coldly, “What, come to laugh at me?”

“Who are you! Are you sick?” Wen Jinge glanced at the plaque above, “Ten Thousand Fathoms, mine.”

Shan Hongxing: …

She then ran to the front of Lingxiao Hall, transmitting her voice with a technique, “This one’s mine too. You set this up, didn’t you? Blood. Disgusting.”

“Pfft!” Shan Hongxing spat a suitable mouthful of blood at Wen Jinge’s retreating figure.

“…” Wen Jinge.

She had always thought, watching dramas, that the constant blood-spitting was exaggerated—how could anyone have that much blood? She hadn’t expected not only to see it today, but to experience it herself.

“Have you come to kill me?” Shan Hongxing lay on the secret chamber floor, watching Wen Jinge’s return, ready to submit to her will. “Back then, you should have killed me.”

“And who am I?”

“Wen Jinge.” His eyes grew ever more unfocused, a smile at his lips. “Wen, the little fifth.”

“So since you know who I am…” Wen Jinge grinned mischievously at him. “Heh heh heh.”

“What are you doing?” Shan Hongxing came to his senses, ashamed and furious, wishing he could faint dead away.

For Wen Jinge was undressing him. “Heh heh heh, let me have a look. I’ve wanted to see you for ages.”

“Wen the little fifth! You, you’re crazy—cough, cough, cough—let go of me! Decency, honor, shame! Cough, cough—did you never learn them?”

“I never went to school.”

“…”

Shan Hongxing was too weak to resist, watching helplessly as Wen Jinge stripped away his outer robe and underclothes, leaving only his underpants. Her eyes were filled with disappointment.

“Alas! I thought you were hiding some blood packs on you, with all that blood you spit.”

“Why would I—cough, cough—hide such a thing! Don’t push me too far!”

She pouted, pressing on his stomach, where a deep knife scar ran across. It looked oddly familiar. She couldn’t help but touch it, and Shan Hongxing shrank back, shame burning on his face, like a chaste housewife defending her virtue to the death.

“Wen Jinge!” He could no longer see, but his sense of touch was as sharp as ever. “Are you mad? I’m your senior brother!”

“I lost my memory.” Wen Jinge pointed at his wound, storing the look of shock on his face deep inside. “But some things, my instincts won’t lie about. This scar—has something to do with me.”

Shan Hongxing went still, as if he’d finally fainted.

Wen Jinge paid him no mind, taking a set of clean clothes from her storage ring and dressing him.

“I trust Senior Brother Fan’s handiwork—you should too. There was once a wound here, but this scar, you’ve kept fresh all these years yourself. Why?”

Shan Hongxing shoved her away and rushed for the door, but, unsteady in his blood and unable to see clearly, he stumbled and fell.

“Hypocrite!”

Wen Jinge heard him curse her as such.