The Demon Lord of All Forms

Chapter 20 Xiaoqian

The meal at the Flying Immortal Sect gave Yun Weiyang a taste of sweetness. The souls of cultivators are a hundred times thicker and more delicious than those of mortals, and he wanted more cultivator souls.

However, Yun Weiyang did not find another opportunity to make a move along the rest of the journey.

Half a month later, Yun Weiyang heard the news in a market town frequented by independent cultivators.

This was a small market town built in a valley, with only a dozen or so wooden houses. A few low-level cultivators set up stalls to sell pills, magic tools, and materials from demonic beasts. Yun Weiyang mingled in the crowd, pretending to be a passing rogue cultivator, but her ears were constantly picking up on the conversations around her.

"...Have you heard? The Flying Immortal Sect was wiped out by the Cloud Thunder Sect."

"I've heard about it before. The head of the Qingxuan Sect Leader was hung on the Yunlei Sect's flagpole. How tragic."

"The Yunlei Sect has struck it rich; the entire spiritual vein of the Feixian Sect now belongs to them."

"That's right, I heard that Sect Leader Yunlei seems to be trying to advance to the Refinement of Spirit realm. He's incredibly lucky. I still don't even know how to condense a Dao Embryo..."

Yun Weiyang walked past expressionlessly; the news spread faster than he had anticipated.

In the days that followed, Yun Weiyang passed by the gates of several small sects, intending to repeat his previous trick, but found that the protective formations of these sects were all activated, and the disciples entering and leaving were wary and full of hostility towards outsiders.

Yun Weiyang watched from a distance for a while, then turned and left.

It's not that he can't force his way in, but it's not worth it. The vigilance of these small sects has already been aroused. Forcing his way in will only expose himself. The lesson of the Flying Immortal Sect is still being learned, so he needs to wait until the storm has passed.

So Yun Weiyang stopped deliberately searching for minor sects and just headed northeast, occasionally gathering information in the markets of rogue cultivators and sometimes devouring a few lone rogue cultivators. Her days were uneventful.

That afternoon, Yun Weiyang walked into a dense forest.

This forest is called Ghost Fang Forest, the most dangerous place within hundreds of miles. According to mortals, there are fierce ghosts lurking in the forest, and no one who goes in has ever come out alive. Even cultivators are very wary of this place and would rather take a detour than get close when passing by. But Yun Weiyang doesn't care about this at all.

When Yun Weiyang entered the Ghost Fang Forest, it was nearing dusk. The dim sunlight filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The forest was quiet; there were no birdsong or insect chirps, only the rustling of the wind through the leaves, like someone whispering. Occasionally, a few animal roars could be heard in the distance, muffled and distant, quickly swallowed up by the wind.

Yun Weiyang wore a moon-white robe embroidered with star patterns, and in the twilight, she looked like a drifting cloud.

As darkness fell, the atmosphere in the woods began to change.

Deathly energy seeped from the ground, cold and sticky, like countless invisible snakes slithering around our feet. The yin energy also thickened, coiling itself around the tree trunks and branches, dyeing the entire forest with a layer of gray mist.

It was dusk, a time of transition between yin and yang, and Guifanglin seemed to be awakening, revealing its true form.

Yun Weiyang sensed the increase in death energy and the thickening of yin energy, and the temperature around him was dropping, but he didn't care. He longed to see something new.

As she continued walking, Yun Weiyang heard a sobbing sound.

A faint, mournful sound, like someone crying, came from the depths of the dense forest, sometimes near, sometimes far, as if scattered and gathered by the wind. At the same time, a cold wind blew from ahead, carrying a biting chill, causing the surrounding temperature to drop even more.

Yun Weiyang stopped in her tracks, squinted, and looked ahead.

A white figure slowly emerged from the depths of the woods.

This is a woman dressed in a plain white dress. The dress has no decorations, yet it looks exceptionally beautiful on her. Her long hair falls like a waterfall, her face is extremely beautiful, her skin is so white that it is almost transparent, but her lips are so red that they look like they are stained with blood.

The woman walked very lightly, as if floating, and the setting sun shone on her, casting a faint shadow in the dense forest.

The woman in white walked up to Yun Weiyang, stopped, and looked at Yun Weiyang with a pitiful gaze.

"Young master," the woman's voice was soft and sweet, like a layer of honey drizzled on a sticky rice cake, "I'm injured, young master, can you help me?"

The woman lowered her head, lifted her skirt, and revealed her right leg.

The woman's right leg was smooth and fair, with beautiful lines, like a piece of fine mutton fat jade. However, there was a wound on her ankle. The wound was not big, but it was very deep, and dark red flesh could be seen inside. Blood seeped from the wound and dripped down her ankle onto the fallen leaves, making a soft dripping sound.

Yun Weiyang looked at the leg, then at the woman's face, and smiled.

"sure."

Yun Weiyang squatted down, reached out, and gently stroked the woman's leg. Her fingertips slowly slid over the wound from her ankle, her movements gentle, as if she were caressing a fragile piece of porcelain.

The woman in white blushed slightly, lowered her head, bit her lip, and looked shy.

"Young master..." the woman's voice softened even more.

Yun Weiyang raised her head and looked into the woman's eyes, which were filled with shimmering tears.

"Get on," Yun Weiyang turned around and bent down. "I'll carry you."

A barely perceptible stiffness flashed across the white-clad woman's face.

She could tell that Yun Weiyang possessed cultivation and was a cultivator. A cultivator, alone in a dense forest at night, encountered an injured woman of unknown origin and agreed to help without any suspicion or hesitation. This was abnormal. Either this person was a fool, or this person didn't take her seriously at all.

The woman's gaze lingered on Yun Weiyang for a moment, but finding nothing amiss, a ruthless glint flashed in her eyes before she reverted to her pitiful appearance.

"Thank you, young master," the woman said softly, leaning against Yun Weiyang's back.

Soft and chewy.

Yun Weiyang straightened up, supported the woman's legs with both hands, and walked into the depths of the dense forest, her steps still light and quick.

"What's your name?" Yun Weiyang asked.

"Xiaoqian." The woman's voice rang in Yun Weiyang's ears, carrying a hint of warmth.

Where do you live?

There's a village ahead, and I live at the east end of it.

How many people are in your family?

"I'm all alone... My parents both passed away last year." The woman's voice lowered, tinged with a sob.

Yun Weiyang nodded and didn't ask any more questions. He walked through the dense forest. The moonlight shone on him and the woman, casting their shadows on the ground. Yun Weiyang's shadow was long and clear, while the woman's shadow appeared and disappeared intermittently.

The woman in white lay on Yun Weiyang's back, her arms wrapped around Yun Weiyang's neck, her chin resting on Yun Weiyang's shoulder, her eyes gazing at the profile of Yun Weiyang's face.

Under the moonlight, Yun Weiyang's profile was as handsome as a sculpture, with distinct lines, yet with an indescribable softness.