Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Chapter 120: “Song Lang”

Like a bucket of cold water dumped on her heart, Cheng Yaoniang felt inexplicably wronged.

Yes, she had been constantly thinking about the whereabouts of the two wandering heroes, wondering if they had reached her beloved’s side. Yet her concern was one thing—her beloved saying such words was another.

Did he not worry about her at all? Not even offer a word of comfort? At least a greeting, right?

“They,” the young lady finally could not voice all her thoughts, “they have already been gone for three days. By tonight or tomorrow, they should be able to see you.”

Saying this, her sense of grievance faded, but worry resurfaced. Cheng Yaoniang held her beloved’s hand, carefully studying his eyebrows and eyes. “Song Lang, you’ve really suffered these days. How did you lose so much weight?”

“Song Lang”’s eyelids twitched slightly, yet he still looked deeply affectionate. “Do not worry. The evil spirits troubling me have only done so for a few days. If I were truly losing weight, could it happen in such a short time? It’s just the change from south to north—bound to cause some discomfort.”

“Discomfort?” Cheng Yaoniang worried even more. “You were already being pursued before, and now…”

“Song Lang” held her, comforting her: “Once the two heroes meet me, everything will be fine!”

Cheng Yaoniang said, “Exactly! I hope they hurry.” A blush rose on her cheeks. “By then, you’ll come to my home. When my father and mother see you, they’ll surely be pleased.”

“Song Lang”’s gaze darkened slightly, but with Cheng Yaoniang in his arms, she could not perceive this change in expression. She was still wholeheartedly looking forward, saying, “Song Lang, why not transfer your household registration to Jingzhou? After all, back home there are your younger brother and sister-in-law to take care of things. My parents are already older, and my older brothers are studying elsewhere… You are a scholar, and the southern examination halls have always had the most talented people. Ah, I know you are talented, Song Lang, but instead of competing fiercely there, why not come here? You can easily win top honors.”

She had seriously considered this. Though she loved Song Lang, Cheng Yaoniang also understood the value of livelihood. She did not wish to be a poor woman; naturally, she wanted Song Lang to succeed in the exams, adding glory to herself as well.

Moving a household registration was not easy, and marriage added another layer—it was entirely justified! Who could say otherwise?

Thinking of these things, a dreamlike pink glow appeared on Cheng Yaoniang’s cheeks. Just then, she heard her beloved say, “Yaoniang, I have come to see you for a long time, but I don’t know how things are with my body. Tonight, I will stop here and return.”

Cheng Yaoniang: “Ah.”

Her initial joy and anticipation instantly dimmed. She knew well the importance of time, but the moments together with her beloved were just too brief, and naturally, she felt sad.

“Song Lang” saw this expression. The man hesitated, then added a few more words of concern, asking, “The red sand I gave you earlier—you use it every day, right? With it for your formations, no evil can harm you!”

This was true. The man was truly furious at Bai and Mei for interfering with his plans, wanting to eliminate the two entirely. Yet when facing them directly, he had no confidence to deal with them, so he needed some twisted, sinister schemes.

Bai Zhengliu had guessed correctly earlier. Whether it was the guidance from the Leshan troupe or Cheng Yaoniang’s “southeast direction,” in the man’s plan, it was all the same place. Once Bai and Mei fell into the trap, it would be a situation where heaven would not hear, and the earth would not respond!

He anticipated such an outcome, already laughing in his dreams at the thought. Unfortunately, after several days, he still detected no signs from the trap.

No rush. The man reassured himself: the woman was right—they should still be on the road.

Just then, Cheng Yaoniang spoke again: “I’ve already used it all.”The man froze. “Finished?” He was genuinely surprised.

Cheng Yaoniang said, “I’ve been using it very sparingly! But Song Lang, the red sand you gave me really isn’t much.” Her brows slightly furrowed, and her tone carried a hint of complaint. “I only drew formations for two days, and now there’s none left! Father and Mother aren’t worried, saying that the two heroes even left some extra things behind.”

As her words fell, the man’s expression gradually grew strange.

“That little?” he said. “I calculated it—it should have lasted you three to five days.”

If it were the fourth day and Cheng Yaoniang told him she’d finished it, he might not have felt much. But now, she had used it for only two days.

Something was off.

The man pondered this. Looking at Cheng Yaoniang, a hint of impatience appeared in his expression.

Yet the young lady had no idea, still lamenting to her beloved: “They always trust outsiders more. Yesterday they even said they wanted to send me to the Tianshan Mountains. So cold, so harsh—I’m not going! Song Lang, hurry. Once we’re married, you study, and I’ll grind ink for you, and perform a little ‘Red Sleeves Adding Fragrance’.”

The man said lightly, “Alright, we’ll talk about that later—I have to go.”

Cheng Yaoniang opened her mouth slightly, then closed it. “Mm.”

She still did not want her beloved to leave.

But this was already the second time Song Lang had mentioned it. Surely the situation with his physical body was urgent, so he had no choice.

Comforting herself like this, she looked at her beloved, her eyes still filled with reluctance.

The man perfunctorily pressed a light kiss to her face and then disappeared from her dream.

Cheng Yaoniang’s pupils constricted sharply. When she opened her eyes, the corners of her lips uncontrollably lifted.

She knew!

Song Lang loved her too, and cared for her deeply!

She only hated that detestable evil spirit. If not for it, she and her beloved would have met long ago.

Cheng Yaoniang happily thought of these things. Her radiant expression was noticed by Madam Cheng.

Madam Cheng looked at her daughter with suspicion. She wanted to say something but her gaze shifted and fell on the spirit stone that had rolled out of Cheng Yaoniang’s sleeve.

In that instant, Madam Cheng completely forgot what she had wanted to say. She exclaimed, “Ah!” and hurried forward, placing the spirit stone into Cheng Yaoniang’s hands, instructing, “You must keep this carefully—it’s something that can save your life!”Cheng Yaoniang drew a sharp breath. “Ah, it’s hot!”

The moment the spirit stone touched her palm, she thought she had accidentally touched a stove.

She hurriedly tossed the spirit stone aside. Madam Cheng looked puzzled. “Hot? Where’s hot? I was holding it just fine…” She bent down to pick up the stone and hand it back to her daughter.

Cheng Yaoniang was reluctant but could not resist her mother’s insistence. Fortunately, when she touched it this time, the stone was icy-cool, with no burning heat at all.

Realizing this, the young lady behaved obediently and said no more. But after her mother left, when she looked down at the small jade stone in her hand, her heart was still full of doubt.

“What’s going on?” she murmured to herself. “It really was hot before! Huh… Father and Mother even said the stone was excellent—smooth and translucent, worth hundreds of silver even without considering its use. But—”

But now, the piece in Cheng Yaoniang’s hand was completely black on one side. Calling it a “bean variety” felt exaggerated.

She pouted. “What the heck, showing off… sigh, I wonder how Song Lang is doing now.”

Cheng Yaoniang began to pine with longing again.

Meanwhile, the Song Lang she had been thinking of was slowly opening his eyes in a room.

Objectively speaking, Song Lang didn’t look bad. Not as tall and refined as Bai or Mei, but gentle, elegant, and scholarly, with his own charm.

Only his complexion was terrible, dark clouds pressing down over him, impossible to hide.

At this moment, Song Lang didn’t bother hiding it. He was still concerned about the details he had heard from Cheng Yaoniang about the mysteriously depleted red sand.

Could it really be that the woman was too clumsy, too reckless?

He marked this possibility in his mind, unsure what response to make.

He lowered his eyes, hesitant, his gaze wandering aimlessly over his sleeve and the floor beside him… After a while, his eyes gradually focused.

He saw the red sand.

A few scattered grains, stuck to his sleeve.

Song Lang’s body trembled slightly.

He raised a hand and gently touched his sleeve.

There was so little red sand. If he weren’t wearing a contrasting cyan-blue robe, even with his eyes wide open, he might not have noticed.

Now, the red sand moved from the sleeve to the tips of his fingers. His lips pressed tightly together, cheeks taut. If anyone stood beside him, they would notice how quickly his expression had changed. In mere seconds, the gentle, scholarly demeanor vanished completely, and the black clouds overhead enveloped his face. The once youthful, full flesh began to shrivel and hollow. Before long, he looked like a skeleton wrapped in skin.“Heh heh, heh heh——”

“Man”… no, he shouldn’t be called a man. At this sight, it was clear he no longer had any life in him.

Better to call him “Song Lang.”

“Song Lang” stared at the red sand on his fingertips and suddenly sprang up. His movements were incredibly fast, too quick for ordinary eyes to catch. In a flash, he reached the room’s entrance, pushing forward, intending to break through the door—

At that moment! The door exploded with a “boom,” and a flood of spirit light surged toward “Song Lang.” The soft glowing particles fell on him like corrosive droplets of water, instantly eating tiny holes through the skin barely hanging on his skeletal frame!

And that wasn’t all.

As “Song Lang” winced in pain, instinctively recoiling to avoid the danger, the Twenty-Eight Generals, swept along with the spirit light, appeared before him.

The blades cut through darkness, through layers of yin energy, cutting through—

“Song Lang’s” body.

Unintentionally, Bai Zhengliu recalled a memory from the Lunar New Year at Tianshan Sect. The junior disciples had prepared a dish, finely chopping pig skin and boiling it in water. Repeatedly stirring until the bits fully merged with the water, creating a soft, bouncy gelatin—“frozen meat.”

Served with chili, vinegar, cilantro, and green onions, it was delicious.

But hard to cut. The cold at Tianshan would often turn the soft, bouncy gelatin into a solid block of ice. At that moment, the knife needed to be heated first. Too little heat, it wouldn’t cut; too much, and it would slice like what was happening now.

With one stroke, “Song Lang’s” body was split in two. Besides the central cut, the remaining halves melted like frozen meat under heat, dripping, consumed by the spirit light until no trace remained.

Until the spirit light vanished.

Bai Zhengliu brought the Twenty-Eight Generals back to himself, a strange expression on his face.

He asked Mei Yinghan, hardly believing it: “Just like that? Dead?”

Mei Yinghan: “……”

Author’s note:

Little Bai: Meow meow meow?

Little Mei: Rua… ahem, now is not the time to rua, be quiet!