Smoke and Fire [GL] - Chapter 13

“The Supreme Deity Qingluan arrives—”

The Immortal Official presiding over the ceremony announced with a long cry, and the crowd, somewhat anxious from waiting, immediately fell silent. All the deities and immortals stood strictly according to rank; the deities merely lowered their heads slightly, while the immortals had to kneel.

Because of this private internal conflict, it was already past the appointed time when Qingluan’s sacred carriage finally reached the Glazed Terrace.

However, in the eyes of others, everything seemed normal. Luo Yao sat kneeling upon a gigantic lotus pedestal, her formal, dark red court robe flowing down.

According to the ceremony of conferment, she had to ride a mount from the Glazed Terrace to Sumeru Mountain. Thus, the sacred carriage paused before the path paved with crushed jade. Si Yin quickly walked to her, knelt on one knee, gently held the tips of her fingers beneath her court robe, and helped her descend from the lotus pedestal.

To onlookers, Si Yin’s actions were undoubtedly reverent. But only the persons involved knew that as this person helped her, a sentence popped out from between her teeth: “Don’t let it happen again.”

Luo Yao subtly curved her lips and said, “Hard work.”

The next second, Si Yin’s body emitted a blinding white light, and in just an instant, she transformed into a majestic, snow-white tiger-beast.

—The God of the Western Cardinal, the White Tiger, whose original divine title is Si Yin, primarily in charge of solemnity and the military, conferred as a Supreme Deity.

The White Tiger, two or three people high, slightly lowered its body. After Luo Yao sat sideways upon it, it began to gallop lightly. Accompanying the carriage were Veda in a white robe, and His Highness the Flower God, messy in his basin.

Looking at the red figure gradually moving away, two extraordinary-looking men among the gods exchanged glances simultaneously.

“My brother,” the older one among them smiled helplessly, “this is… Beauty is hard to forget.”

The other scoffed: “I am the son of the Phoenix, her equal in rank. What is there for Elder Brother to fear?”

“I fear you will fall for her.”

“Elder Brother worries too much,” this man gazed at Luo Yao’s retreating figure and smiled slightly: “I won’t.”

…

Luo Yao knelt before the Buddhist altar amid a chorus of chanting.

On the altar, the person held a Bodhi branch in their arms and looked down at her with gentle eyes.

“Qingluan, henceforth you are a Supreme Deity. There are certain fates that I believe you must know.”

Luo Yao said softly, “Please speak, Venerable.”

The chanting gradually grew louder.

“To save people is easy; to save love is difficult.”

The voice was ethereal, like smoke, lingering and echoing in the Buddhist hall, utterly peaceful and sacred.

Luo Yao, however, was stunned.

She had expected to hear a caution related to the common people of the world but had not anticipated this sentence: to save love is difficult.

“Why?” she asked the Buddha.

“Qingluan, as a divine bird, your long cry upon your birth saved all sentient beings. However, sentient beings all suffer, and those with affection all bring about calamity. Affection is often ill-fated. Unlike saving people, saving love necessarily requires entering the game yourself.”

Luo Yao lowered her head, thought over these words several times, and then suddenly smiled.

“In this life, I only save people; I do not save love.”

Upon hearing this, the person sighed softly, spoke a final sentence amidst the chanting, and then drifted away. This sentence later became the words that revolved repeatedly before Luo Yao’s eyes every time she woke up at midnight.

The Buddha said—

“Those who enter the game do so against their will; the causes and effects for those who save love are hard to find.”

…

…

Luo Yao was awakened by the coolness on her earlobe.

The moment she opened her eyes, she realized she had unknowingly fallen asleep. The position where the feather hung on her earlobe was emitting a trace of cold air. She covered the earring with her hand and frowned slightly.

Shang Mian’s true form, like hers, belongs to the water element, yet she is sharper and more aggressive than Luo Yao. The “thousand miles of ice, ten thousand miles of frost” she brings with her is Shang Mian’s standard feature whenever she appears.

But… it couldn’t be that Shang Mian was coming now, could it?

As Luo Yao was thinking this, she felt a pair of hands wrap around her from behind.

“Who!”

She turned her head abruptly and saw a woman with snow-white skin and red lips leaning lazily by the bed, looking at her with a knowing smile, her head slightly tilted.

The moment Luo Yao saw this person, she relaxed. The sword energy in her hand dissipated, and she said softly, “Why are you here?”

“Sister should ask herself that.”

Shang Mian played with a strand of Luo Yao’s stray hair, the smile in her eyes spreading in layers, her voice carrying a seductive sigh, “I told Sister not to put yourself in danger. Sister, why don’t you listen?”

As she spoke, her gaze fell upon Luo Yao’s earlobe, while Luo Yao’s gaze was on her exposed shoulder.

“Are you alright coming to the mortal realm? Will there be any consequences?” she asked with a sudden trace of worry.

Shang Mian’s tone was patient and gentle: “As long as Sister protects herself, I’ll be fine.”

She phrased this cleverly, but the underlying meaning was that if Luo Yao suffered even a minor injury, she would dismantle this entire place.

Luo Yao naturally understood, frowned, and said, “A’Mian, don’t mess around. You promised me you wouldn’t use force in the human world, remember?”

“Sister also promised me she wouldn’t put herself in danger,” Shang Mian calmly caught her hand, slowly moved closer to her face, and said softly, word by word.

“Where did I put myself in danger?” Luo Yao had wanted to say this from the start.

Shang Mian slightly raised one eyebrow, lifted her hand without looking up, and gently pressed downward. The candles in the room were instantly extinguished.

“Shh, listen.” Her slightly cool finger touched Luo Yao’s lips.

Following her lead, Luo Yao held her breath. At first, there were only the regular breaths of the other people, but gradually, she started to hear an ethereal and distant singing.

“…Hairpins sway, enter the high hall…”

“…Kneel to heaven and earth… red head covering, bone hairpin… ”

The singing was both near and far, elusive, sounding like a little girl humming softly.

“Hairpins sway, enter the high hall. Kneel to heaven and earth, longing for a child. Red head covering, bone hairpin, call for the child but hear the busy sound of water,” Luo Yao repeated the eerie nursery rhyme in a low voice, then lowered her eyes:

“It’s the vengeful spirit, already at the level of a malevolent ghost. It hasn’t dared to enter because you are sitting here.”

“‘Cleansing of Women’ was common in the Southern Wasteland a thousand years ago, where witchcraft was highly respected,” Shang Mian said listlessly. “As for the ghost world, at that time there was a saying: ‘one cleansing must produce a malevolent ghost.'”

Luo Yao followed up, asking, “Then how come only this persistent thought remains until now?”

“Because Sister’s guess is right, the persistent thought is not the vengeful spirit,” Shang Mian paused at this point, and suddenly smiled: “I cannot say more about the rest. There is an acquaintance in this illusion. Others can’t deal with it, but Sister will definitely be fine.”

Her words were like looking at flowers through a fog, said yet amounting to nothing. Luo Yao only felt that when she said the words “acquaintance,” her expression seemed a bit meaningful.

By now, the dim light of dawn had spilled through the window. Luo Yao knew Shang Mian had to leave, so she sat up and poked her nose: “You said yourself I’ll definitely be fine. Next time, don’t just show up like this. Do you hear me?”

“If you’ll be fine, can’t I miss Sister?” Shang Mian leaned in with a captivating smile, leaving a gentle kiss on her cheek, and her form vanished in an instant.

Only a few leisurely falling snowflakes were left where she disappeared, which Luo Yao reached out to catch, and they melted in her palm.

She slowly clenched her palm, her slender eyelashes lowered, her whole being shrouded in the faint, increasing light of dawn. She seemed to be in thought, yet also seemed to be thinking of nothing at all.

—This was the scene Si Yin saw when she opened her eyes.

“…??”

Si Yin stared at the blanket on her body, tried hard to recall the reason for losing consciousness, then raised her hand blankly: “Luo, Luo Yao.”

“Hmm?”

Si Yin said solemnly: “I think I’ve gained the ability to travel through time.”

Luo Yao: “…”

It’s fine. She’s a Martial God, she doesn’t use her brain for fighting.

Luo Yao looked up at a 45-degree angle toward the sky, comforting herself thusly.

The consequence was that after everyone woke up, they all expressed strong condemnation toward Si Yin for “neglecting her duty and making the fragile Luo Yao guard the entire night.”

The poor Supreme Deity Si Yin received so many negative reviews for the first time in a thousand years, and the atmospheric pressure around her was very low.

Yi An, who had been the most vociferous in her scolding, now began to feel post-fear. She tiptoed past and squeezed in front of Luo Yao, intending to slip away the moment she pushed the door open… only to bump face-to-face with a huge red character “囍” (double happiness).

Yi An: “???”

The entire courtyard of the Shen residence was, at some point, completely hung with lanterns bearing the ‘囍’ character. Even the servants were wearing bright red, which, combined with their faceless countenances, looked exceptionally bizarre.

In contrast to the pervasive wedding atmosphere, a pure black coffin sat quietly in the center of the courtyard, draped with a loop of white silk.

Yi An watched for a moment, then burrowed back into Luo Yao’s arms, whining, “Waa, it’s so scary.”

After whining, she noticed the other person remained silent and only then realized something was amiss—when did Luo Yao get so much taller? And where was her chest??

Thinking this, Yi An stiffened all over. She tremblingly raised her head and met the gaze of Shen Junxuan, whose eyebrows were almost touching his hairline.

Yi An: “…”

Shen Junxuan: “…………”

The crowd behind them: “………………”

“Holy crap!!” Yi An forcefully pushed the person away, instantly so embarrassed she wanted to dig a hole and jump into it, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Shen Junxuan seemed to recognize her predicament and laughed reassuringly a few times: “No worries. Today’s wedding counts as good fortune touched by an immortal.”

“Wedding? Who is getting married?”

“Me.”

Yi An: “?”

Wait, what respectable family gets married wearing white clothes!!

—If they hadn’t all been wearing white, how could I have mistaken him!!

“Is this the ‘trouble’ Master Shen mentioned?” The real Luo Yao leaned against the pillar under the corridor, asking with a slight, knowing smile.

“Elder, please don’t misunderstand. My marriage is truly not what I desire,” Shen Junxuan told her with a wry smile. “On one hand, the Shen lineage cannot end with me; on the other hand, this other matter has occurred. I really have no choice.”

“No choice my foot. I think you’re quite resourceful, handling both the wedding and the funeral at the same time, even saving on the suona players.”

Si Yin stood by with her arms crossed, criticizing him coolly with a sarcastic tone.

Shen Junxuan, however, was not at all angry: “It’s like this: when the wedding and funeral were held separately before, the one in the coffin would usually rise from the dead. Later, we discovered that a joyous occasion could subdue the corpse, and the matter has been handled this way ever since.”

Having said that, he closed his folding fan and nodded to the welcoming procession.

“Welcome the Fourth Mistress into the house—”

The sound of suona horns suddenly blared. The scarlet sedan chair stopped at the entrance of the Shen residence, and a woman with a red head covering was helped out from inside.