Ai Cao and Yang Lingyao discussed some more details about their collaboration.
For example, Yang Lingyao is the sect leader, Ai Cao holds a nominal position within the sect, and Zhao Wenwen is the chief elder.
The three people here have a clear and thorough grasp of the top level of the sect.
Artemisia argyi patted the little fox, thus earning it a nominal title.
Zhao Wenwen only occasionally chimed in, explaining anything Yang Lingyao didn't understand. The rest of the time, she stood quietly on the roof, watching the Zhao family's house gradually perish in the fire.
She was originally just a girl from a branch of the Zhao family. Fortunately, she had good talent for cultivation and was recruited into a cultivation sect.
Although the tasks in the sect were heavy, the presence of fellow disciples made those days seem shrouded in a sweet veil.
However……
Compared to the long years of a cultivator, that wonderful period of life in the sect was indeed short-lived.
Whether it was betrayal by her sect or treachery by her own family... Zhao Wenwen's once tender heart has been pierced by them, leaving it riddled with holes that are difficult to heal.
Fortunately, those things are all in the past now.
This heart of hers now belongs to her alone.
She will not let anyone hurt her anymore.
As dawn broke, the flames finally licked the wooden building clean. Ai Cao, standing on her broadsword, stood side by side with Yang Lingyao and Zhao Wenwen in mid-air.
Until the flames are extinguished.
Another group of women flew into the air in a lively manner. Surrounding them were female cultivators carrying various magical treasures, and in the middle was a wide and long flat silk cloth where some cramped women stood.
They arrived in front of the mugwort.
The female cultivators wore different clothes, but all were stained with blood to some extent. Some female cultivators, disgusted by the blood on others, deliberately kept their distance from the group; others, who liked the smell of blood, pestered others for their blood-stained clothes, only to be mercilessly slapped twice…
They saw the mugwort one after the other, then separated and bowed to her.
Ai Cao pulled Yang Lingyao back two steps, letting Zhao Wenwen stand in front.
Ai Cao said, "The one next to me is the sect leader." She pointed to Zhao Wenwen and said, "She is..."
Zhao Wenwen smiled and said, "I'm in charge." She turned her head and winked at Yang Lingyao, "I know these sisters. When we were still ghosts, we chatted about a lot of interesting things."
Things became much easier after that. Zhao Wenwen told the women about the sect's future development plan that Ai Cao and Yang Lingyao had come up with, and the group started to clamor, wanting to hear more details.
The ordinary women who heard that they also had a place to stay showed expressions of relief to varying degrees.
Although it wasn't their true intention—well, they chose to kill their enemies—they were, after all, just ordinary women.
As long as one remains a mortal, one falls under the jurisdiction of the mortal government. The mortal government does not interfere with murder and robbery among cultivators, but it strictly controls mortals.
If anyone exposes their murders, each of them will die.
They didn't want to die.
They want to live.
Artemisia gave them a chance to live, and Yang Lingyao gave them a chance to survive.
At least for now, they are grateful to the two men.
Yang Lingyao glanced at the sun peeking over the horizon.
Based on her previous observations of the little girl who seemed to have a talent for cultivating immortality... the little girl should already be awake by now.
Moreover, if it were any later, the territory that originally belonged to the shadows would be taken over by the sunlight.
Yang Lingyao greeted Zhao Wenwen and said, "Aicao and I will go check on the little girl."
Zhao Wenwen nodded. She had already heard Yang Lingyao mention the talented little girl, so she said, "See you at the sect's mountain."
Yang Lingyao, holding Ai Cao's hand, slipped back into the shadows. Ai Cao protected the fox with one hand, and with the other, she lifted the broadsword she had been standing on. Her back was now occupied by the silent longsword, and since she didn't have any cloth to tie it up, she could only carry the broadsword.
They all silently played dead in her hand, no different from swords without spirit.
When the light returned, Ai Cao was back in the main room where she had drunk tea with Yang Lingyao.
On the coffee table in the main room, the teacups were still exactly the same as when they left, and the tea they hadn't finished drinking was still inside.
There was only a commotion coming from the courtyard.
At first glance, it sounds like the proprietress is stopping someone. But she doesn't dare to actually stop them; she can only chatter like a parrot circling around them.
Similar to before.
Was she trying to warn those who might be in the main wife's room? Or...?
Warning others?
The little fox in Ai Cao's arms perked up its ears. Its bright black eyes stared straight out of the room. It broke free from Ai Cao's arms and ran into the courtyard outside the main house.
Artemisia was busy widening her sword, and it actually ran out of the window.
She sighed inwardly. She casually placed the broadsword on the ground and then reached for the longsword.
Yang Lingyao glanced at the mugwort and said in a low voice, "Quite a few people have come."
The mugwort nodded.
Yang Lingyao listened for a second, then said in a low voice with a serious expression, "The young lady is not here."
Ai Cao paused in her steps toward the main house door. But then she heard the little fox's low, hoarse growl, and without hesitation, she stood in front of the main house door.
Ai Cao said, "Go find that little girl, I'll go see what happened."
Yang Lingyao nodded. Lost in thought, she glanced at the gradually brightening sky and stood on a small patch of dark shadow in the corner. She was like a pool of black water, quickly collapsing, melting away, and disappearing from the spot.
The mugwort pulled the door open.
The morning light bathed the small courtyard. In the center of the courtyard stood a huge, collapsed chicken coop made of piled-up dry straw. A hen sat atop the coop, glaring angrily at the little fox standing on the ground, tentatively trying to climb up.
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