Chapter 68: The Cantankerous Old Man

"Hmm?"
"That illusion," Liang Si looked at the old Taoist, speaking uncertainly, "should be a creation from the memories of the three of us. Our master is so powerful, and his memories—he can't pry into them."
The old Taoist's expression grew stern, and he nodded. "Yes, I admit it."
"You're not going to resist anymore?" Wen Jinge was referring to the rope.
But the old Taoist misunderstood. "It's the truth."
"Oh, I meant this." Wen Jinge had untied both ropes. She held them in her hands, comparing them. "Aside from the color and their effects, what's the difference between the Immortal Binding Cord and the Demon Binding Rope? How are they made? Teach me!"
"You, you, you..." The old Taoist pointed at Wen Jinge, agitated. "You... are you truly Master Wen?"
He seemed uncertain, taking another look at her. "Ninth grade, ninth grade... Impossible, how can it be? No, you are Master Wen. Yes, you can..."
"Is he crazy?" Wen Jinge muttered, troubled.
She still had so many unanswered questions—couldn't he wait to lose his mind later?
Wen Jinge considered herself easygoing; she didn't have many rivals. The only one who could count was that girl from the illusion who said she'd come looking for her, but surely Bei Moling couldn't have arrived so quickly!
No, that wasn't right. Bei Moling should be hunting for the Six-Fingered Demon Zither, not Wen Jinge herself!
Wen Jinge spread her hands, examining her fingers—five on each hand.
Lu Wei opened his eyes, impatiently pushing her away from the water jar's edge. Wen Jinge glared at him, and he replied blandly, "You're blocking my light."
"Brother, we're in a cave."
Lu Wei's ears flushed slightly as he changed the subject. "Your disciple has fainted."
"When does he ever not faint?"
"...," Lu Wei answered indifferently.
He climbed out of the water jar—the only one among the three not in a soul state—and looked at the old Taoist, offering, "Need any help?"
"No, I have some questions."
The old Taoist's demeanor had returned to normal. He sighed, "I wondered how someone so extraordinary could appear in Xuan Yun Sect... Turns out, it was you!"
"It had to be you, yes, who else could have such skill..."
"Sisi, you were killed by Qiao Yu..."
"Master, do you recall the day our second junior brother entered the sect? You said you'd once had a dream."

That night, after tidying Wen Jinge's room, he went to sleep and had a long dream.
In the dream, Qiao Yu cut off his head and branded him a traitor.
Though he died, his soul remained.
He stood atop Ling Xiao Peak, quietly watching the ever-changing Xuan Yun Sect.
He didn't know how long it lasted. When he finally could move, he saw Wen Jinge turned into a human swine, and it was Qiao Yu who had done it.
His heart hurt deeply at that moment, and he suddenly understood.
If he were the master, he could not show kindness to someone who tormented him so. Moreover, his second junior brother carried demon blood—his master's cruelty was, in fact, prolonging his life.
"What is it? You're dreaming?" Wen Jinge sensed something.
"Yes, Master, the scene I dreamed was just as it happened in the illusion—except..."
"Except what?"
Lu Wei, though his eyes were closed, had witnessed it all.
Ten thousand years ago, a talent like Wen Jinge would be called a grandmaster, and if she attained immortality, she would be revered as a patron spirit, worshipped by the masses.
But ten thousand years later, with many secret arts lost and spiritual energy diminished, she still managed to nearly master everything in less than three centuries. Lu Wei didn't know what word could describe such terrifying talent.
"Heh." Wen Jinge laughed, a helpless smile. She muttered to herself, "I wondered why you insist on serving me. Clearly, you're my senior, yet you call me 'uncle'—so you've been waiting for me here!"
"Hmm?" Liang Si was stunned. His master always had a whimsical mind, and he worked hard to keep up. Though he didn't understand how this related to the grandmaster, he replied, "That title was indeed never changed because the grandmaster said so. He said when you awoke, there was no need for us to change it."
"Ah! That old fox is so sly."
The unnamed old fox's eyelid twitched, for he noticed something peculiar—
His hostages, the three before him, had all escaped their bonds, yet none ran.
Instead, they sat before him, chatting about family affairs.
Granted, the one before him was Master Wen, whom he'd always wanted to approach but never dared, but now that she'd fallen to the ninth grade, couldn't she show this demon cultivator a little respect?
Even if only feigned fear, panic, or weakness—at least pretend!
"Are you lucid now?"
The old Taoist was stared at by three pairs of eyes. The sudden shift of circumstances caught him off guard.
"That golden crow—how is it now?"
"Oh, right, I almost forgot the main issue." Wen Jinge squatted beside him, instinctively wanting to pull out a notebook to scribble notes. "Oh, right, I'm a soul now, I can't bring things—"

She looked dumbfounded, and so did the old Taoist.
Because brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were already laid out before Wen Jinge. She looked suspiciously at Lu Wei, then at Liang Si, asking, "Shouldn't souls be unable to carry such things? I thought it was odd enough that souls could wear clothes—why?"
Why? Why? Why?
The old Taoist's heart bled. He wanted to know why, too!
Lu Wei's heart ached as well, but he didn't care why.
Comparing oneself to others only brings misery; comparing goods, throw them away.
Wen Jinge had a knack for driving people mad!
Fortunately, Wen Jinge had many restrictions. Otherwise, Lu Wei would have long since destroyed her.
"Enough, I'll ask my questions. If you're not insane, we can discuss together."
The old Taoist nodded in bewilderment. Even though he still had contingencies outside, he dared not make a move before Wen Jinge, the ninth-grade spiritual master, acted.
"Have you met any other demon cultivators?"
"No, I haven't." But just now, he saw Wen Jinge practicing something similar to obsession.
"Ordinary demon cultivators—think carefully—who would be like you..." Wen Jinge paused, organizing her words to show respect for the elderly. "Who else is like you, resembling a tree demon, with a face shriveled into bark?"
The old Taoist replied, "What I found was indeed an incomplete manual. The golden crow—what did you do to it?"
"I have a disciple who recently reverted to childhood. I find it repulsive."
"So, his skin ulcerates? I've seen many cases like that, so I avoided certain methods."
"No, no, you misunderstood. He turned into a child. Every time I see him speak in a sweet voice, I find it affected. So... I borrowed your golden crow to heal him."
"...Heal him."
"That's right. You must have sensed the restraints on the golden crow loosening."
"Yes."
"Only a demon can cure a demon—the correct way for demon cultivation. If you use human methods to fight demons, who'll become the old demon if not you?"
The old Taoist: ...