I Find Her Disgusting Chapter 47

“You can’t cut it—wait—”
Yan Huirou used every ounce of her strength to hold down her hand, stopping Jiang Xidai from drawing her sword and slicing the stream of water into seven or eight pieces.
With Jiang Xidai’s level of cultivation, a hundred caverns like this wouldn’t be enough to withstand the collapse from that one strike.
“What is this useless thing.” After calming down a bit, Jiang Xidai glanced at Yan Huirou and said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “You two are cut from the same cloth.”
Both were audacious, bold, and utterly insolent.
But at least the little female lead was beautiful and gentle, so her annoyance could be overlooked.
Jiang Xidai didn’t even want to spare the strange stream of water another glance. It was so disgusting she was afraid it would dirty her eyes.
The stream of water, however, was completely oblivious to her disdain and laughed a few more times. “Wrong, wrong, the fated one destined by heaven is not this one. Let me see this one—”
Yan Huirou calmly stated her name.
“My name is Yan Huirou.”
“Sounds familiar.”
The stream of water circled her, looking her over and doing a few laps, but it couldn’t stop question marks from occasionally popping out of its watery form.
“Are you really Yan Huirou?”
Yan Huirou looked up, puzzled, and gave a soft “mm.” “Is there something wrong?”
“You are not that Yan Huirou,” the water stream replied. “She should be standing shoulder-to-shoulder with another man, not holding the hand of the woman beside you. How strange. But you do indeed have this name. Are you her? You are not like her.”
“Could it be that you know someone else with the same name, Senior?”
The thing seemed to have crashed, its words growing more and more nonsensical. “No. Her eyes are not as rich as yours; they are very empty. But she obtained what the secular world considers happiness, so she shouldn’t have so many deep attachments. Yet your attachments are very strong. She could be anyone. But you—you seem to only be you. My child, who are you?”
Yan Huirou looked at it innocently. “Senior’s question is a bit too profound. I am indeed Yan Huirou. This name is not common.”
Seeing her dazed expression as she seriously answered, Jiang Xidai urged, “Yan Huirou, what’s the point of listening to this thing’s nonsense? Just ask it how to retrieve the sword.”
Of all the strange thing’s words, only “Yan Huirou is the one destined by heaven” was believable. Jiang Xidai didn’t let go of her prejudice one bit.
Yan Huirou squeezed Jiang Xidai’s hand and nodded, asking, “Excuse me, how do we retrieve the sword?”
The stream of water pondered for a long time, not mocking them, looking as if it was about to short-circuit itself. Its form suddenly expanded, then it deflated in resignation, sighing, “Alright, alright. You’re right, there doesn’t seem to be a second Yan Huirou.”
It pulled itself together and said joyfully, “Fated one, you have finally come. I am not a soul of this world, merely a fragment at best, guarding this waterfall. I have been waiting for you for many years.”
The water stream scattered into several small, cute, and chubby-looking splashes.
“But all things require a trade-off. Before you take the precious sword, think about it. What price are you willing to pay?”
Yan Huirou said, “As long as it does not involve robbery, murder, or the slaughter of innocents, if it is only a price I must pay, then we can discuss it.”
When a splash of water floated past Jiang Xidai, it was, unsurprisingly, met with a cold glare from the woman.
The splash seemed to have a bit of a temper itself and squirted water in Jiang Xidai’s face. Jiang Xidai flicked her sleeve, sending the water mist right back at it.
“Although I am only a soul, I once had a heart. Before I was shattered into this state, I also had someone I loved. It is because of my heavy attachments that I remain here. You—can you resolve my attachment?”
As the water stream spoke, its voice became peaceful and ethereal.
“Once my destiny is fulfilled, I must leave this world. My last memories of the mortal realm, I vaguely recall the best moments being the wedding night and the day of imperial success…”
“I promised someone I would be their wedding officiant, but in the end, I never made it.”
It formed into the large character for “double happiness.” “After so many years, I really want to witness a wedding one more time.”
Jiang Xidai listened quietly from the side, thinking that the request was a bit strange, but not difficult. They could just go down the mountain and grab a newlywed couple. She just didn’t know how to get out of this place.
Yan Huirou thought about it. The request was indeed within the scope of what she could accept, so she answered in a gentle voice, “Alright.”
The splash of water became excited at once. It extended a tendril and slowly poked Jiang Xidai, then opened an eye and looked her over.
“Ooh, you’re already wearing your wedding dress. How beautiful.”
“There are only two living people here, so without further ado, let’s begin—”
Jiang Xidai froze upon hearing this. She glanced at her own clothes, her fingers brushing over the vibrant sleeve. Although it was blood-red, that was just her preference.
What did it have to do with a wedding dress?
What could it possibly have to do with one?
They were completely unrelated.
It wants me and Yan Huirou to perform a wedding ceremony?
How is that possible—
Sect Master Jiang felt that her lifelong reputation was about to be ruined.
How could she go through a wedding ceremony with that little brat?!!
Jiang Xidai curled her fingers, realizing she was still holding Yan Huirou’s hand. A moment ago, she was clearly gripping her wrist; she didn’t know when it had changed to a more relaxed and intimate hold.
It was like having boiling water poured on her hand, scalding her so badly she subconsciously wanted to pull back. But the Sect Master was also one to keep up appearances. To avoid showing even a hint of panic, she deliberately squeezed Yan Huirou’s hand tighter before raising it and flinging it away.
What is she think—
Jiang Xidai’s elegant brow furrowed. Before she could speak.
At the same time, Yan Huirou lifted her head and replied to the water stream in a faint voice, “Our relationship is not like that. I’m afraid this isn’t appropriate.”
The other side asked, “Not appropriate?”
The pond water grew upwards, then exploded like a firework. A thick mist instantly enveloped Yan Huirou.
Every single water droplet was its incarnation, crystallinely reflecting Yan Huirou’s figure. Its—or rather, their—voices overlapped, rushing into Yan Huirou’s consciousness. “Then who is she to you?”
“Why did your expression dim when she pushed you away?”
“Yan Huirou.”
“Yan Huirou.”
“Are you not lying?”
Their voices, some sharp, some deep, rang out in unison within Yan Huirou’s mind, like a tidal wave crashing down.
Yan Huirou suddenly understood. This probably wasn’t some last wish.
The wisp of soul before her was questioning her heart. It had seized upon this weakness and was now relentlessly pursuing it.
The one who takes the sword must have a clear conscience.
The thousands of words in her head pushed a string in Yan Huirou’s mind to its breaking point. Finally, they merged back into the original loud question, thrown before both Yan Huirou and Jiang Xidai: “Then, who is she to you?”
Drip, drop.
A bead of blood fell from the corner of Yan Huirou’s lips, staining her pale, moon-white robes, making it particularly striking.
“She is…”
Yan Huirou’s mouth was filled with the unpleasant taste of blood. As her vision went dark, her eyes unexpectedly met Jiang Xidai’s.
Normally, those beautiful eyes would look at her from under their lashes, either with a sweep of weary arrogance or a few glares of faint anger.
Occasionally, when she was in a good mood, the corners of her eyes would crinkle as she smiled at her.
But Jiang Xidai’s expression now belonged to none of the above. She seemed to understand something, yet she stood by and watched, not stopping the thing’s questioning.
She watched Yan Huirou’s expression, not missing a single detail, as if she wanted to see how she would answer.
“…just a benefactor sister, whom I will remember for a lifetime.”
Yan Huirou forced herself to swallow the mouthful of blood. After speaking those words, the pressure in her chest eased as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
She hadn’t lied.
But she hadn’t told the whole truth either.
This was the gentlest, most subtle form of resistance Yan Huirou could think of.
After hearing her, Jiang Xidai’s gaze casually drifted back. Her dark lashes lowered slightly, but her expression had become a little more complex. Perhaps there was even a flash of emotion she herself hadn’t noticed.
In truth, she had never thought in her entire life that she would hear such a sentence.
But it had come from Yan Huirou’s lips.
The surrounding mist gathered back into the sky, turning into a continuous fine rain that fell on the edge of the umbrella Jiang Xidai held up.
The surrounding sounds quieted down. The soul’s voice became ethereal. “Your conviction was not disturbed by me. You are a rare one. But the promise you made with me has the effect of a great oath between heaven and earth. You must do as you say for this secret realm’s precious sword to be revealed to you.”
“Since you cannot do it, then you should just leave.”
Yan Huirou secretly sighed in relief. At least the thing wasn’t demanding more for her breaking the agreement.
But just as Yan Huirou turned to leave—
The embroidered umbrella lifted slightly, and a fair hand reached out.
That hand curled its index finger and wiped away the blood from the corner of Yan Huirou’s mouth.
“Forget it,” the woman said flatly. “We’re already here, Yan Huirou. To turn back without taking the sword, it’s a shame you’d even consider it. Even if you don’t want to see the precious sword, I would like to broaden my horizons.”
Jiang Xidai’s gaze fell on the pool behind her. “How do you want to do this? A little play-acting isn’t out of the question.”
Before it could answer, Jiang Xidai suddenly pulled off the open red outer robe she wore.
Yan Huirou felt herself being wrapped in an embrace filled with a dark, floating fragrance.
The red silk fell, draping half over her body, the rest spreading out behind them like a phoenix’s tail.
As it happened, Yan Huirou had pulled the thread at Jiang Xidai’s collar taut earlier. Now, this large red outer robe, like a wedding garment, perfectly enveloped the two of them.
A meditation cushion made of water suddenly appeared on the ground. A tendril grew from it, wrapping around both their ankles with a magical force that made them kneel properly on top of it.
Jiang Xidai didn’t bow at all. She sighed, her kneeling posture rather perfunctory, only half-patiently waiting for the thing to speak.
She turned her head, only to see Yan Huirou demurely holding onto the “wedding dress” on her body, gazing unblinkingly at the “double happiness” character floating above them.
The young woman knelt with solemn dignity, lost in some thought, appearing much more devout than Jiang Xidai.
As if it were actually real.
Actually, marriage…
Jiang Xidai pulled her thoughts back, her brow furrowing slightly. She vaguely remembered that she had gone through this once before.
Although it was only playing pretend.
She remembered how she had finally pestered Zhan Ke into agreeing. At the time, they couldn’t go down the mountain. So Jiang Xidai had cut up some of her favorite clothes to use as red cloth and painstakingly wrapped candles for a long time. She had even picked up a needle, something she was not skilled with, and learned stitch by stitch how to embroider a dragon and phoenix.
The tip of the needle pricked her finger. It was delicate work, and when she accidentally pricked herself, the pain was so sharp she could only put her finger in her mouth.
Hadn’t she looked forward to it?
Perhaps she had.
She wasn’t looking forward to the wedding night, but to what was said in the vows: “a perfect match, to grow old together.”
But the words “first bow to heaven and earth” were never shouted, swallowed silently in her throat.
Many years had passed in a flash.
The candle burns to ash, and only then do the tears dry. Now, in this state of mind, Jiang Xidai looked at the large “double happiness” character before her, and for a moment, she felt a swirl of mixed emotions.
She had never thought that the regret from all those years ago would be continued.
By a twist of fate, heaven had even swapped out the person for her along the way.
Jiang Xidai closed her eyes, no longer dwelling on it, and listened as the soul’s cheerful voice sang out by her ear:
“First bow to heaven and earth—”