Chapter 57: A Mercenary Rescue

Yuange recalled a multitude of memories.

She remembered her father’s expectations, the jealous glares of her elder brother, and the endless conflicts within the Myriad Demon Kingdom. Finally, the scene settled upon a small, dilapidated tavern.

A girl, clad in a tattered disciple’s uniform, clumsily offered a warm piece of malt candy to a small bird demon, whose form wavered due to its injuries.

“Where did this little bird come from?” Her pale golden eyes scrutinized the bird from left to right, and she tenderly stroked its injured wing. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. The pain will vanish once you’ve had some candy.”

****

“Hey! Big cat! Look over here!”

The voice perfectly echoed the one from her memories.

A clear, yet slightly hoarse shout abruptly pierced the air. The Nine Netherworld Tiger’s movements froze, and it slowly turned its colossal head.

There, in an open space not far away, stood the human woman it had dismissed as an ant from the very beginning. She had one hand on her hip, while the other held up a tattered Gui Niang Hu, shaking it provocatively.

It was Shen Zhaoqing.

She hadn’t fled.

Or rather, she had taken two steps, then halted.

‘Conscience truly is a troublesome thing.’

As Shen Zhaoqing gazed at the blood-soaked Yuange, lying on the ground awaiting death, her mind flashed back to the white-robed Demonic Venerable at Black Wind Fortress, who had shielded her and endured the Immortal-Binding Array.

‘One’s a bird-person, the other’s a lunatic, but why do they both share that same foolish stubbornness, that ‘I’ll protect you even if it kills me’ spirit?’

‘Damn it.’ Shen Zhaoqing cursed inwardly.

‘Saving one is saving, saving two is saving. Many fleas don’t itch, many debts don’t fret.’

She uncorked the Gui Niang Hu, and an intensely rich aroma of wine instantly permeated the canyon, which had been shrouded in the stench of blood and violence.

The Nine Netherworld Tiger’s pallid eyes flickered for the first time. Its ravenous desire for living souls seemed to be captivated by this purer, more alluring scent.

Slowly, it advanced step by step towards Shen Zhaoqing.

“Yes, just like that, good kitty.” Shen Zhaoqing forced a smile that was uglier than a cry, her heart pounding against her ribs, threatening to leap from her throat.

Closer, it came even closer.

She could even discern the scraps of meat lodged between its teeth.

‘Now!’

The instant the Nine Netherworld Tiger lowered its head, poised to sniff the wine gourd, a sharp glint flashed in Shen Zhaoqing’s eyes.

She abruptly tilted the gourd skyward, splashing out all the potent spiritual brew that had accumulated within it.

*Whoosh!* The crystalline liquid transformed into a fine, dense rain of wine in the air, drenching the Nine Netherworld Tiger from head to paw.

“Drunken Hidden Evasion: Mist!”

Shen Zhaoqing swiftly formed hand seals, channeling the meager spiritual energy within her body through an esoteric method.

In that moment, the wine clinging to the Nine Netherworld Tiger erupted, transforming into a thick, impenetrable white mist.

This wine mist was far more than a mere visual obstruction.

The core of the Drunken Hidden Evasion lay in ‘hiding’ and ‘evading.’ The wine mist contained Shen Zhaoqing’s unique spiritual energy fluctuations, which could severely disrupt divine sense probing and, more importantly, numb and confuse the sense of smell!

How did the Nine Netherworld Tiger locate its prey?

Shen Zhaoqing remembered the appendix of the disciple’s cultivation manual, which she had read countless times out of boredom: “The Nine Netherworld Tiger possesses immense power, unmatched by ordinary beings. Retreat upon encounter. It tracks enemies through divine sense and its keen olfactory sense for living souls and blood qi.”

Now, its divine sense was blocked by the wine mist, and its nose was overwhelmed by the potent aroma of wine, which made its Divine Soul feel somewhat adrift.

In an instant, the Nine Netherworld Tiger lost its target.

“Roar…?” The Nine Netherworld Tiger let out a confused growl, aimlessly circling within the dense mist.

Seizing this opportunity, Shen Zhaoqing shot towards the mountain wall like an arrow released from its bowstring.

She snatched Yuange’s icy wrist, disregarding the severity of her injuries, and barked, “Get up if you don’t want to die!”

Yuange was stunned by the sudden turn of events, staring blankly at Shen Zhaoqing, her amber-gold eyes filled with disbelief.

‘She… she didn’t abandon me and run away?’

“What are you spacing out for, waiting to die?!” Seeing no reaction, Shen Zhaoqing grew anxious and directly intervened. She hooked one arm under Yuange’s armpit, supporting her, and almost used every ounce of her strength to drag her from the pile of rubble.

“Go!”

Supporting the semi-conscious Yuange, Shen Zhaoqing bolted towards the other end of the canyon without a backward glance, running for her life.

Behind them, the wine mist gradually dissipated.

The Nine Netherworld Tiger, realizing it had been tricked, let out an earth-shattering roar of fury.

The entire canyon trembled violently with its bellow.

Terrifying pressure assaulted them once more. Shen Zhaoqing felt as if a great mountain had slammed into her back. Her throat sweetened, and a mouthful of blood spewed forth.

But she dared not stop, not even to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth.

She gritted her teeth, squeezing the last vestiges of strength from her body, and dragged the troublesome ‘princess’ beside her, plunging into the deeper, darker, and more unknown depths of the forest ahead.

They ran for an unknown duration until the roars behind them gradually faded. Only then did Shen Zhaoqing finally collapse, her legs giving out, and both of them tumbled into a natural tree hollow formed by massive, gnarled roots.

The cave was pitch black, with only faint glimmers of light filtering through the crevices.

Shen Zhaoqing gasped for air, her entire body feeling as if it had been dismembered, every muscle screaming in protest.

Yuange, beside her, was in an even worse state.

Already severely wounded, and now subjected to such a jarring escape, she had completely fainted, her breath so faint it was almost imperceptible.

It took Shen Zhaoqing a long while to gather her strength and prop herself up. She used the dim light to examine their temporary refuge.

The tree hollow was not large, but it was dry enough to accommodate both of them.

She checked Yuange’s breathing.

‘Good, still breathing.’

“Damn it, I must owe you all from a past life.” Shen Zhaoqing cursed under her breath, yet resignedly pulled out a few spare healing talismans from her robes, clumsily sticking them onto Yuange’s most grievous wounds.

Only after completing this did she completely collapse to the ground, gazing at the interwoven roots on the tree hollow’s ceiling, questioning her life choices.

After an indeterminate amount of time, a soft thud echoed.

She turned her head to see Yuange, who should have been unconscious, had somehow opened her eyes. Those amber-gold pupils shone astonishingly bright in the dim light.

Being stared at like this made Shen Zhaoqing uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“What are you looking at? Haven’t you ever seen one pretty girl save another pretty girl?”

“I told you to leave, didn’t I?”

Yuange’s voice was hoarse, as if abraded by sandpaper, each word carrying the scent of blood, echoing softly in the small, dark tree hollow.

“Leave? How could I leave? You were practically dying, little princess!” Shen Zhaoqing rolled her eyes, her expression akin to, ‘Have you been hit so hard you’ve gone stupid?’ “Of course, it’s because if you die, no one will lead the way for me. I can’t get out of this cursed place alone, and if that big black cat decides to use me as a scratching post, where would I go to complain?”

She paused, then added, “Besides, you still owe me compensation for emotional distress, lost wages, fright, and a whole host of other fees… a massive sum in total. Until you’ve paid it all back, not even the King of Hell can take you from my grasp.”

It was a perfectly self-consistent, thoroughly mercenary explanation.

‘Perfect.’ Shen Zhaoqing mentally gave herself a thumbs-up.

However, Yuange merely gazed at her in silence. Her lips parted, as if she wished to smile, but the movement tugged at her wounds, sending her into a violent fit of coughing.

“Cough… cough, cough…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t get so agitated!” Shen Zhaoqing jumped in alarm, quickly leaning closer, fumbling to pat her back to ease her breathing, but stopped halfway through raising her hand.

‘She’s wounded like a rag doll. One slap, and she might just fall apart.’

“You… you person,” Yuange coughed, her pretty face flushed crimson. She finally caught her breath, but a faint, almost imperceptible hint of laughter tinged her voice. “You truly are… not cute at all.”