Chapter 84: Mo Yu

Incomplete soul, born without emotion?

Ji Rong froze, completely baffled by what the woman was saying.

Clearly, the woman had no intention of explaining further.

She merely smiled faintly and said, “Girl, the question is for you to answer. Their lives and deaths are in your hands.”

“The world often says: those without feelings hurt others; those with feelings hurt themselves. Since you were born without emotion, I suppose my conditions pose no threat to you. And yet, after all these years, I still wonder, can someone born without emotion ever truly feel?”

As she spoke, she moved her fingers slightly, and the red threads around their necks tightened.

Controlled by the woman, the threads instantly coiled tighter around the necks of Xie Bai and Gu Baiyi.

Xie Bai’s face turned pale as blood beaded from the wound. He wailed to Ji Rong, “Senior Sister, please, think carefully! My little life is in your hands!”

Ji Rong didn’t respond to Xie Bai. Instead, she turned her gaze to Gu Baiyi.

To her surprise, Gu Baiyi only stood there quietly with lowered eyes, expressionless.

The red thread bound her tightly too, and blood was seeping from her neck.

Yet her tone was calm. “It’s fine. Senior Sister, I trust you.”

Just those few words, and Ji Rong’s wildly beating heart began to settle.

She didn’t know if Gu Baiyi trusted her to guess the woman’s identity correctly, or believed that she wasn’t truly without emotion.

Either way, the thought brought Ji Rong immense comfort.

After all, in this unfamiliar world, there was still someone who believed in her.

Ji Rong calmed herself, no longer concerned with whether she was truly emotionless. Because even if she was, so what? And if she wasn’t, so what?

She would live however she pleased.

What she didn’t know was that this woman, having spent a hundred years in this domain, despised nothing more than people who wasted her time.

In the past, a single flash of impatience would have prompted her to kill them both.

But Ji Rong’s face bore an uncanny resemblance to someone she once knew.

So the woman restrained herself and gave a warning. “Girl, I’ll give you half a stick of incense’s time. After that, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

Ji Rong shook her head. “I won’t need that long.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

A moment later, she smiled. “Oh? So confident. You must be sure of yourself.”

“I’m not confident,” Ji Rong replied. “I just don’t want to waste your time. I’d like to make a trade with you.”

The woman’s interest piqued further. “Very well. What sort of trade?”

Ji Rong thought for a moment. “I’d like to ask you three questions. In exchange, I’ll use up my allotted time.”

The woman shook her head. “You’re a clever one. A single question can be worth far more than a mountain of time. How is that fair trade?”

Ji Rong considered that. In ancient terms, half a stick of incense could mean anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour.

Twenty “instants” equaled one “snap of the fingers” about seven seconds.

Three questions wouldn’t take more than a minute total. One hour for one minute, who was really getting the better deal?

So Ji Rong argued, “Senior, asking three questions will take me no more than eight finger-snaps. Isn’t that a fair trade? Besides, if any question makes you uncomfortable, you can simply choose not to answer.”

In other words, Ji Rong was making it clear, this trade actually put her at a disadvantage. She had only a minute to guess the woman’s identity, and the woman wasn’t even obligated to respond.

The woman saw the logic in that and chuckled. “Interesting. Very well, let’s do it your way.”

With time pressing, Ji Rong immediately asked, “Senior, you’re skilled in the art of poisons. Are you from the Demon Sect?”

The woman shook her head. “No.”

Ji Rong followed up quickly, “Were you troubled by love in life?”

“Yes... and no.”

After the second question, the woman looked at Ji Rong and said, “One question left, girl. Have you decided what to ask?”

She was gently running her fingers across her pale, elegant hand as though it were a deadly blade.

Three more seconds.

Ji Rong smiled.

Looking at the woman, she said casually, “No need to ask. I already know who you are.”

The woman fell silent, unsure whether Ji Rong truly knew, or was simply bluffing.

Gu Baiyi saw the calm smile on Ji Rong’s face and couldn’t help but smile as well.

Only she knew: her Senior Sister understood more than she let on. If she herself could guess the woman’s identity, then Ji Rong certainly could too.

Why? She couldn’t say, just a feeling.

Ji Rong parted her lips, putting on an air of mystery, ready to deliver a dramatic revelation.

But just as she was about to speak, a robotic voice suddenly rang out in her mind:

[Ding! Gu Baiyi’s favorability +100]

In the dead silence of the moment, the sudden system alert startled Ji Rong. She nearly lost control of her expression.

The woman, seeing Ji Rong’s poised demeanor, began to feel both curious and expectant. But before Ji Rong could say anything, she suddenly closed her mouth again.

The woman: “…”

It had been a hundred years since anyone dared tease her like this.

Her expression darkened. “Girl, I don’t like being toyed with. You’d better speak quickly, or I’ll kill one of them right now.”

Ji Rong snapped out of it, grumbling to herself, What a terrible temper this lady has...

Rubbing her forehead, she said, “Senior, I was just thinking... when you died, you couldn’t have been older than twenty. At that age, you wouldn’t have been able to form a domain.”

“So this domain likely isn’t yours. And yet you can manipulate its power. Why is that?”

The woman was visibly startled, blurting out without thinking, “How did you know I died at twenty?”

Ji Rong smiled.

Got you.

The woman realized too late that she’d revealed something crucial.

If Ji Rong had asked her directly, she never would have answered.

This girl is devious.

Still, the woman let out a soft laugh, neither confirming nor denying it. “And what if I told you? Just an age, what can you deduce from that?”

Ji Rong raised her dark eyes to meet hers, smiling. “I deduce that you trained under the Flying Dagger Sect. Your surname is Mo, and your given name is Yu.”

“Did I guess correctly, Senior?”

The woman stared at her, saying nothing.

Blood trickled down from a gash at her neck, like tears weeping from a Buddha statue.

She gently lifted her hand and wiped the blood away.

After a long moment, Mo Yu frowned and asked, “Girl, how can you be so certain? Is it just because I know you bear the ‘Doubtless’ curse?”

“If that’s truly the case, then it all feels far too hasty. While I did indeed cultivate that particular poison, to my knowledge, it can also be replicated by those in later generations.”

Ji Rong said, “Because, Senior, just now you mentioned Senior Yun Wuxin and Senior Feng He. Both of them have been prominent figures in the past century, which means we can rule out the possibility that you were born a thousand, or even ten thousand years ago.”

“Ten thousand years?”

Mo Yu let out a chuckle. “You little girl, you do know how to flatter.”

Ji Rong couldn’t help but mutter inwardly, wasn’t it the cultivation world’s eternal youth techniques and age-preserving arts that made her so wary?

Who would guess that someone like Xie Bai, who appeared barely out of his teens, would actually be pushing sixty in modern terms?

Then there was his ever-lazy, completely unserious manner…

Indeed, men truly remain boys at heart until death.

After her silent grumbling, Ji Rong met the woman’s gaze and continued, “Furthermore, Senior, the wound on your neck is not only wide but extremely deep. It doesn’t look like something a sword edge could have inflicted.”

As she spoke, she paused and then lifted her hand, sketching the shape of a weapon in the air.

“A wound this blunt yet forceful must have been caused by a blade. And judging by the curve at the end of the cut, the weapon was likely a curved blade, wielded with great precision and skill.”

Gu Baiyi, who had been quietly observing from the side, looked at Ji Rong with a gentle gaze, occasionally nodding and smiling.

Xie Bai, however, looked a bit surprised. The woman bore such a horrific wound on her neck, yet had such a beautiful face.

He could barely bring himself to look at an injured beauty.

And yet Ji Rong not only looked, she examined her that thoroughly?

He had to admit, on that point, he genuinely admired her.

Unaware of Xie Bai’s thoughts, Ji Rong turned back to Mo Yu and continued, “Also, in the cultivation world, sects that specialize in blades are rare, and those that use curved blades are even fewer. After some thought, the only one that comes to mind is the Feihao Sect of the Northern Frontier.”

Upon hearing this, Mo Yu let out a cold laugh. “You sound reasonable, girl, but your logic is full of holes. Why must I be from the Feihao Sect? Why not consider that the person who killed me was from that sect?”

Ji Rong had expected that. She calmly replied, “Because I’m certain, Senior, that you died by your own hand.”

Mo Yu frowned. “Why do you say that?”

Ji Rong answered, “Because there are calluses on the pads of your fingers, likely from years of wielding a blade. And more importantly… you’re very beautiful.”

That much was true, Mo Yu was stunning.

Her skin was pale, her features exquisite. When dressed in elaborate garments, she looked like a proud, noble peacock.

Mo Yu merely smiled at Ji Rong’s words.

She shook her head slightly. “No matter how beautiful a face may be, it will wither in time. And what kind of reasoning is that anyway? Just because I’m beautiful, I must have taken my own life?”

Ji Rong explained, “Firstly, because your beauty is striking; sharp and commanding. That kind of beauty usually comes hand-in-hand with a blade that’s fast and merciless. The wound on your neck fits that very style.”

“Secondly, even I, a mere junior, feel reluctant to see such a lovely neck harmed. Anyone else would likely feel the same. If I were the one ordered to kill you, I couldn’t bear to cut your neck either, I’d choose a less cruel method.”

For a moment, Mo Yu was left speechless.

Ji Rong stared at the still-bleeding gash on her neck, her thoughts drifting to the old legend of Doubtless—the one without doubt.

From what she recalled, Mo Yu had died in her early twenties, yet had already been married to her husband for over a decade. That meant she must’ve wed him just after coming of age.

But human hearts are fickle. A love cultivated through ten years of companionship still could not withstand the joy of being rescued by a stranger during a moment of despair.

Moved by sorrow, Ji Rong sighed softly. “Senior, if he was truly so heartless, then let him die. But if you were capable of poisoning him so decisively, why did you still take your own life afterward?”

The blood at Mo Yu’s throat continued to flow, like tears breaking free from invisible threads.

After a long silence, Mo Yu finally spoke. “I didn’t kill myself out of sorrow. I did it… because it was all just too absurd.”

Ji Rong thought back to the game’s storyline.

Mo Yu had treated her husband so well, only for that scoundrel to fall for a total stranger who saved him once? It really was absurd.

A moment later, the corners of Mo Yu’s lips curled into a faint, unreadable smile.

She said with a chuckle, “It was absurd, because my husband never even fell for another woman. When he went to war in the northern frontier, I couldn’t rest easy, so I followed him there in secret.”

“He was gravely injured, struck by a stray arrow, and fell into a coma. The one who risked everything to save him… was me.”

Ji Rong was dumbfounded.

Even Gu Baiyi furrowed her brow slightly, puzzled by what she had just heard.

So the mysterious woman her husband had fallen for in the north… had been Mo Yu all along?

The red thread was still looped around Xie Bai’s neck. Stunned, he forgot all caution and blurted out, “Miss Mo, you truly are a remarkable woman. But if that’s the case, why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

Mo Yu smiled. “My husband had been blinded by the Xiongnu’s blades and shears. He couldn’t recognize me. And since I had come to the north in secret, I feared he’d be angry if he found out, so I disguised myself as a mute and never revealed my identity.”

“Several months passed, and just as he recovered and was about to return home, he told me he had realized something. That during those few months together, he had fallen for me, not the wife he had married through his parents’ arrangement.”

“He spoke with such sincerity. Said he wished to spend the rest of his life with me. He even set a date for us to reunite.”

Ji Rong was stunned. This was… quite a twist.

“I agreed,” Mo Yu continued, “but in my heart, I kept wondering, did my husband fall in love with me, or with the mute woman who had saved his life?”

A hint of confusion clouded her expression as she whispered, “Yes, both were me. But he didn’t know that.”

By this point, even Xie Bai was baffled. “But whether he loved one or the other, didn’t he still love you in the end?”

Mo Yu smiled faintly. “Yes, no matter who he loved, it was always me. That’s why, when he returned home, I gave him a choice; his wife, or the woman who saved him.”

“That night, I fed him the poison. The next day, under the yellow sand of the northern wind, I watched him walk away.”

Ji Rong noticed that Mo Yu’s voice trembled slightly now, and her expression had turned twisted, pained.

Mo Yu continued, “I used a teleportation talisman to rush to the little hut I had built in the north, the same one where I’d cared for him during his recovery. It was a poor, drafty shelter, nothing like our comfortable home.”

“But in my heart, I thought, if he could endure the poison and find his way back to me in the north, then I’d forgive him. I’d live with him forever, even if it meant remaining mute.”

“But I was wrong.”

Her voice softened. “I waited in that little hut the entire day. By nightfall, even the ants in the corners had frozen to death, but my husband still hadn’t arrived.”

“I started to wonder, did he die on the way, unable to hold on? If that were true, would I regret this forever? Would I hate myself for the rest of my life?”

“But no… my husband died on the road home.”

Mo Yu’s fingernails dug into her palms until blood dripped to the floor like a string of red beads.

She kept laughing. Her voice turned hoarse. “Turns out, my husband didn’t love anyone. Not the mute girl. Not the wife of ten years. I thought I had married a brave, upright man. But in the end, he was a coward.”

“A coward who, when he realized he had been poisoned, panicked and ran home instead.”

Mo Yu wiped at her tears again and again.

“I understand now. He was grateful to that mute girl, not because of who she was, but because she saved his life. I’d loved him for so many years, only to find out that all he cared about was his own survival.”

“So tell me, did he deserve to die, or not?”

She laughed again. “Tell me, was I absurd? Wasn’t it all just… ridiculous?”