After the Death Ceremony, I was Entangled by My Two Wives - Chapter 5

Different people, different places, the same dream…

Zhao Qingxun’s sudden close proximity left Ying Buran’s mind temporarily blank. By the time she regained her senses, the Storage Ring was already on her finger.

Wearing it felt no different from an ordinary ring. Curious, Ying Buran raised her hand to examine it. The ring was unadorned, bearing only simple patterns that were understated yet didn’t appear cheap; instead, they exuded an ancient, rustic charm.

What had Zhao Qingxun said earlier? Something about… dripping bl00d onto it?

Ying Buran glanced at her other hand, bit her fingertip, and smeared the bl00d onto the ring. Perhaps because she had embarked on the path of Cultivation, the wound healed quickly, unlike the lingering injuries of her past.

Before she could further observe her hand, her attention was drawn to the ring’s glow.

She felt something tugging at her consciousness, and following that pull, Ying Buran found her awareness transported to a vast, empty space.

With a thought, the Senluo Art manual materialized within this Storage Space.

“You did great! You’ve already mastered the use of the Storage Ring,” Zhao Qingxun’s approving voice rang out, followed by a gentle pat on Ying Buran’s head, pulling her attention back to reality.

So that was the Storage Space? It’s huge! And so magical!

Ying Buran’s eyes lit up, her interest in cultivation suddenly sparked, no longer just a matter of survival-driven learning.

Of course, the first step remained learning the Dao Script, a task Zhao Qingxun personally oversaw. However, due to Zhao Qingxun’s own cultivation and duties, she could only dedicate about an hour each day to teaching.

The remaining time was naturally left for Ying Buran to study on her own. She diligently noted down any concepts she struggled with, planning to ask Zhao Qingxun about them later.

Fortunately, the Dao Script wasn’t overly difficult to grasp. By memorizing Zhao Qingxun’s daily lessons, comparing them with commonly used characters, and referring to introductory texts, Ying Buran found herself beginning to understand the Senluo Art.

“You’re back!” Hearing the door open, Ying Buran bounced over to greet Zhao Qingxun, her voice brimming with excitement. “I can understand the Senluo Art now! I can understand it all!”

“It’s so magical! I don’t even need to read it word by word anymore. I just open the scroll, focus my senses, and the characters flow directly into my mind! It’s incredible!”

Zhao Qingxun looked momentarily surprised, but quickly regained her composure. A faint smile curved her lips as she habitually patted Ying Buran’s head. “Impressive. Your progress is far faster than that of ordinary disciples. This shows you’ve already begun to grasp the Senluo Art.”

Ying Buran grinned sheepishly, her imaginary tail likely wagging so hard it would have flown off.

As her excitement subsided, she noticed Zhao Qingxun looked somewhat weary. Regretting her earlier oversight, she quickly led her back to the house to rest.

“You seem to have been very busy lately,” Ying Buran said with concern, handing Zhao Qingxun a cup of tea. “Are you holding up okay? Do you need to rest for a few days?”

The tea was brewed using techniques Ying Buran had learned from Zhao Qingxun. Though her initial attempts had been either too strong or too weak, after a few days of practice, she had become quite proficient.

Zhao Qingxun took a sip of the tea and shook her head. “It’s nothing. There have been some changes outside recently, and the number of missions has increased, making things a bit hectic. I’m fine, though. It’s not as strenuous as it used to be.”

“Still, you need to take care of yourself,” Ying Buran insisted earnestly. “Now, go get some rest.”

Zhao Qingxun: “That Dao Script…”

“I can read it myself now. You rest first, rest first,” Ying Buran insisted, pulling Zhao Qingxun into the bedroom and urging her to lie down.

Unable to resist Ying Buran’s insistence, Zhao Qingxun changed her clothes and lay down. Through their time together, she had come to understand this girl’s nature better than before.

Though usually sensitive and cautious, Ying Buran could be remarkably stubborn about certain matters, unwilling to easily change her mind.

As Zhao Qingxun lay on the bed, watching Ying Buran stumble slightly but accurately read the Dao Script, she marveled once again at the Heaven’s Chosen’s innate advantage in cultivation. Even though she already knew the contents, she was still astonished.

If not for… Ying Buran’s achievements would undoubtedly surpass her own.

A sudden knock at the door interrupted Zhao Qingxun’s thoughts. Ying Buran’s figure rapidly receded before her eyes. She reached out to stop her, but her hand grasped only air as the figure grew smaller and smaller.

Zhao Qingxun opened her eyes to the harsh sunlight streaming through the window cracks. For some reason, she had dreamed of Ying Buran again.

Was it guilt, longing, or lingering resentment?

In the instant she left the dream, she seemed to glimpse another scene: Ying Buran collapsed in a dark, desolate place, her brow furrowed as if trapped in a nightmare.

But how could that be? Ying Buran was dead. No matter how hard she searched, her soul could not be found.

Zhao Qingxun opened her palm, and the ring she had given Ying Buran lay quietly in her hand.

The ring had already recognized its master and could not be opened by anyone else. Even though its owner was dead, Zhao Qingxun had maintained the contract between the ring and Ying Buran.

Just in case. Just in case one day Ying Buran were to reappear in the mortal realm, she could still be found through this ring.

Zhao Qingxun carefully stored the ring in her Storage Space, quickly composed herself, and rose to open the door. Her Junior Sister, Cheng Banxia, had been knocking persistently.

“You’ve been asleep for four days,” Cheng Banxia stated bluntly, her attitude toward Zhao Qingxun having turned sharply colder since Ying Buran’s death.

This was her own fault, her own retribution. If she hadn’t deceived Cheng Banxia and, even worse, Ying Buran, would the outcome have been different?

It certainly would have. But now it was too late.

Zhao Qingxun sat in Ying Buran’s favorite spot, but the window was tightly shut. Her head hung low, her face gaunt. “I dreamed of her,” she murmured.

“I dreamed she was sitting right here, so close, so real… as if she were truly sitting before me,” Zhao Qingxun continued, her eyes flashing crimson, her expression dazed yet tinged with madness.

Cheng Banxia, however, noticed none of this. She snorted, crossed her arms, and refused to look at Zhao Qingxun as she said coldly, “This is all your own doing. I’m leaving now. The Sect Leader only sent me to check on you—you haven’t left this room in ages.”

“Since you’re fine, I’ll be going. I’m leaving the sect for training soon. You should get out and walk around too.”

Cheng Banxia left without another word, but before she did, she flung open the window. Sunlight streamed in, warm yet blinding.

Ying Buran used to love sitting here…

Zhao Qingxun sat there, closing her eyes to bask in the sun’s warmth, then flinching away as if burned, slamming the window shut.

Should she go out? Or rest a little longer? Perhaps she could see Ying Buran again in her dreams.

“…Qingxun? Are you daydreaming?”

A hand waved in front of her face. Zhao Qingxun opened her eyes to find Ying Buran looking at her with concern.

Zhao Qingxun sat up, realizing she had unconsciously fallen asleep while sitting. She pressed a hand to her forehead, her voice slightly unsteady. “It’s nothing. I’m probably just tired lately.”

“There’s nowhere comfortable to lie down here,” Ying Buran said, glancing around. The surroundings were nothing but trees—they were still sitting on the ground.

Lying down wasn’t out of the question, but they worried about catching a chill.

I told her we didn’t need to come, Ying Buran thought. Now look how exhausted she is.

Zhao Qingxun hummed in agreement, leaning weakly against Ying Buran. Only then did she notice they were in a dense forest.

It was the Sect’s Immortal Domain Secret Realm.

As her memories gradually returned, Zhao Qingxun finally remembered: she had dragged Ying Buran here after seeing that her Senluo Art was on the verge of breaking through.

The realm’s abundant wood element and vital energy were ideal for Ying Buran’s cultivation. Although Ying Buran had resisted, feeling it was too much trouble for Zhao Qingxun, especially with her recent busyness, Zhao Qingxun had insisted on bringing her.

But… Zhao Qingxun shook her head, feeling like she had forgotten something. It was as if time had suddenly sped up, and years had passed in the blink of an eye. The familiar scent surrounding her nose gradually pushed these doubts to the back of her mind.

The person was still here, not gone. She opened her palm, finding it empty, as if something should have been there.

Maybe I’m dreaming, Zhao Qingxun thought.

Ying Buran had just finished her cultivation session. Following Zhao Qingxun’s advice, she knew not to rush things and to stop and rest when she felt blocked.

Realizing it wasn’t a good time to dwell on the Senluo Art, Ying Buran simply cleared her mind and stared blankly at the sky through the gaps in the leaves. Suddenly, someone gently pinched her cheek, startling her.

She looked up and saw it was Zhao Qingxun. Ying Buran let out a sigh of relief, her voice tinged with mild reproach but also a hint of playfulness, “Why did you suddenly reach out like that? You scared me!”

Zhao Qingxun chuckled softly, meeting Ying Buran’s slightly annoyed but mostly amused gaze, and pinched her cheek again. “I just wanted to confirm…”

“…whether you’re real, and whether this is all a dream.”