Chapter 72: When Have I Ever Been Normal?

To travel through the mortal world with companions, living freely and uninhibited—Northern Demon Bell trusted not a word of it!

From this moment on, Immortal Wen of the Ten-Thousand-Fathom Peak would become a nightmare lurking in her heart, a barrier to the opening of the Demon Clan’s gate, and the greatest stumbling block on the Demon Lord’s road to awakening.

Such was the education she received from childhood—this was the prophecy of the Grand Shaman.

All it had ever taught her was that, should she ever cross paths with Wen Jinge, she must not face her head-on; if she could not provoke her, then it was best to avoid her altogether.

But now, she seemed to grasp the hidden meaning the Grand Shaman himself had failed to comprehend.

Wen Jinge would become the nightmare of the entire Demon Clan, not because of her strength, but because she was shameless!

A ruffian is not to be feared—what is truly frightening is a ruffian with learning.

And a learned ruffian is nothing next to one who shares your gender.

Even that might not be so terrifying, but worse still is a ruffian who, once she lets loose, never stops.

Northern Demon Bell could not fathom what had brought Wen Jinge to this state, but it must surely be linked to her injury half a year ago at the Burning Heaven Sect. That place, she would remember well.

If, before, Wen Jinge—aloof and formidable—was a level ten threat in the eyes of the Demon Clan, then the Wen Jinge they now faced, fallen into the dust and utterly shameless, would be at least five times more difficult to handle.

What had driven the sword-cherishing, battle-hardened Immortal Wen down this dissolute, uninhibited, and unscrupulous path?

Was it the collapse of morals?

She watched, wide-eyed, as the demon disciples she brought with her vanished one by one in a swirl of mist, their forms dissolving into purple smoke that drifted into the coffin.

Would she be next?

“Where is the Demon Lord?” Wen Jinge asked after the coffin had finished its feast.

“I don’t know.” Northern Demon Bell glanced at Qiao Yu. Though shadows of the demon lingered about him, he was not the Demon Lord Wen Jinge sought.

“Truly don’t know?”

“I don’t.” Northern Demon Bell did not wish to die.

She needed to relay news of Wen Jinge’s madness back to the Northern Demon Realm—the Immortal Wen, having lost her humanity, had grown ever more sinister, surpassing even the Demon Clan’s own Saintess.

The moment she saw Lu Wei, that demon whom Wen Jinge’s disciples called Grandmaster, she understood: as long as one had value, one could survive by Wen Jinge’s side—be they demon or monster.

Seeing Wen Jinge’s skepticism, she confessed honestly, “I was only ordered to seek out the Demon Lord’s reincarnation.”

Wen Jinge did not interrupt her, but simply set her atop the coffin.

Northern Demon Bell had watched her kin be devoured without even bones left behind. Trembling, she whispered, “I can’t be sure if we’ll find him. The Grand Shaman said the most likely place is the Realm of Illusions, since the battleground of the ancient war between gods and demons lies within Xuan Yun Sect.”

“A hundred years ago, I bribed a disciple in training, attached my spirit to a garment, and entered. There, I found a skeleton—the remains of a Demon Clan Saintess from a thousand years ago. My incarnation attached itself to her bones.”

“A hundred years ago…” Wen Jinge seemed to recall something and chuckled. “The sudden appearance of demon cultivators on Ten-Thousand-Fathom Peak—that was your doing, wasn’t it? Ai Fengling’s leg was ruined around that time too. What do you call this tactic? Luring the tiger from the mountain? Killing two birds with one stone?”

“Yes, yes.” Northern Demon Bell was terrified of her, her earlier arrogance gone.

“You may leave!” Wen Jinge shoved her off the coffin. Truth be told, she was growing weary of this kind of life. “Don’t let me see you again.”

“You’re letting me go?” Northern Demon Bell’s heart had long been steeled for the possibility that, even if deemed useless, she would be wrung dry for every last drop of information. She had even prepared how to pass word to the demon disciples wandering the mortal realm without Wen Jinge noticing. And yet…

She was being dismissed.

By the very person who had previously called her beautiful, fragrant, lovely—she was being despised.

Immortal Wen! Nothing but a two-faced swine!

Northern Demon Bell stormed off in a rage.

Lu Wei had intended to remind Wen Jinge that simply letting her go was unwise, but when he saw Wen Jinge feigning gloom, he suddenly lost the urge to speak.

Most likely another of Wen Jinge’s ploys.

If he spoke, he’d only end up being mocked as a fool.

The cave was silent. Wen Jinge brooded for a moment, then patted the coffin. “Sorry, the strongest one was fed to the Demon Harp. I’ll try to find you a big one next time.”

The coffin glowed faintly, as if responding to her.

“Are you alright?” Only then did Lu Wei dare approach.

“Mm.” Wen Jinge nodded, tilting her head, standing her ground. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“No.” Lu Wei shook his head. “My mind is clear now.”

Wen Jinge was speechless.

“Let’s go, then!” Lu Wei still harbored some doubts about her sincerity, especially after enduring the old Daoist’s illusions. He often wondered if the Wen Jinge before him had been swapped without his knowledge.

“I think something’s off about you.”

“When have I ever been normal?”

“So… where are we going now?”

The disciples waited outside. Yuan Qingling, appearing as a young man now, no longer bore the chubby-cheeked face of youth. After a few glances, Wen Jinge no longer felt the former discomfort.

She suddenly realized her order of ranking was justified; in his current state, Yuan Qingling was indeed suited to be Yang Wennan’s junior.

The Golden Crow acted as if possessed, shifting between three-legged bird and human form. Freed from the old Daoist’s curse, it was in high spirits.

In human form, the thick facial hair Wen Jinge remembered had faded. He looked normal now, even his third leg had vanished—just an ordinary person.

“That place you mentioned before?” Wen Jinge arched a brow.

Lu Wei had intended to answer, but at the thought of the coffin, he changed his mind.

“I’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, you’ve forgotten, have you?” She nudged Lu Wei with her shoulder, feigning carelessness. “Really forgotten, or just pretending?”

“Really forgotten.”

“Let’s go to the Thousand Swallow Tribe!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Wang Xi perked up immediately. The thought of going home made her the happiest of all. “Let’s help Third Brother find a sword. My father has collected many famed swords for me, but I’m best with a bow.”

“And what about me?” Yuan Qingling was not pleased.

When he was older, his junior sister ignored him; now that he was young again, why did he still fail to catch her attention?

“Fourth Brother was once head of the Moon-Gathering Sword Sect. How could he not have his own sword?” The little girl could be a miser at times, grumbling, “My two brothers don’t have swords. Junior brother, don’t try to join in.”

“I have one.” The Golden Crow, enchanted by the scent of the demon core on him, patted his chest, eager to please. “I have plenty of treasures.”

“Hand them over!” Liang Si stepped forward silently, palm outstretched. “If you don’t, you can’t come with us.”

Three-legged Golden Crow: …

“And no letting junior brother absorb you either.”

Three-legged Golden Crow and Yuan Qingling: …

“No one else can ever let you feel a mother’s warmth again.”

Three-legged Golden Crow: …

Yuan Qingling wiped the cold sweat from his brow—thank goodness, at least he wasn’t being treated as a bride.