Volume Two: The Mortal Realm, Chapter One Hundred and Twenty: Washing the Hair

"What do you know? Speak." In the darkness of the night, golden flames flickered within Ye Mingke's pupils. His expression was grim, cold as a Shura emerging from a sea of nether-hellfire.

"If I tell you, Master, will you let me go like a puff of smoke?" The faceless wax figure hung half a foot above the snow, bowing its head and speaking in a fawning tone.

"How do I know if you truly know anything?" Ye Mingke said coldly.

"You know, Master, I have spent nearly a hundred years studying puppets. My puppets are human-art puppets, so there is no strange physique under heaven that I have not heard of. Although your constitution is extremely rare, I can still discern a thing or two," the faceless creature said cautiously.

"Very well, speak then," Ye Mingke commanded indifferently.

"Oh, right. I once read in an ancient text—" The faceless creature, having played the role of a groveling subordinate for so long, answered instinctively, but as soon as he spoke, he caught himself and laughed sheepishly. "Master, you haven't promised to let me go yet, have you?"

"As long as what you say has value, I will not kill you, nor will I turn you into my slave," Ye Mingke promised, seemingly nonchalant.

"Thank you, Master!" The faceless creature’s voice was filled with joy. He raised his featureless face as if carefully scrutinizing Ye Mingke. Seeing that his expression did not seem to be false, he began, "The talent you possess, Master, to freely turn your body into molten rock—I once saw it mentioned in an ancient text. It is an archaic constitution known as the Fire-Nether Body. It is said that this constitution had already gone extinct by the era of the Immortal Venerables."

"After all, many constitutions lost their significance after the popularization of the Six Paths Scripture. During that great wave of the Immortal Dao rebelling against the aristocratic clans, many families with special constitutions were wiped out, and the Fire-Nether Body perished during that time as well."

"Sigh, if not for that rebellion of the realms, my search for special constitutions over the years wouldn't have been so difficult," the faceless creature sighed, as if recalling some past grievance.

Seeing Ye Mingke frown slightly, he feared he had lost his interest and hurried to steer the conversation back.

"It is said that this Fire-Nether Body is a type of Five-Elements Physique. Before awakening, this constitution shows no signs of anything extraordinary. But once awakened, one can possess the art of fire control, becoming the lord of all flames in the world. Even an unpracticed Fire-Nether Body can remain unscathed while standing in the midst of a blazing inferno."

"No signs of anything extraordinary before awakening?" Ye Mingke frowned after hearing this. "Before I gained the ability to control fire, you and others once believed my constitution was close to the Human Emperor Body. How do you explain that?"

"This... this I am not entirely sure of. That is how the ancient books record it; perhaps the details are not precise. Or perhaps, Master, you are simply so brilliant and powerful that you are the most unique and formidable Fire-Nether Body in history," the faceless creature said with a sheepish laugh, not forgetting to flatter him.

"Are you truly the Immortal Lingchen? I recall you were quite arrogant and overbearing when you first appeared. Didn't you view human life as mere grass and the world as ants?" Ye Mingke squinted at the faceless creature, somewhat surprised.

Yet, the faceless creature seemed truly shameless. He merely chuckled dryly and offered another silent, fawning compliment.

"That was only because I hadn't encountered an opponent as brilliant, powerful, and awe-inspiring as you, Master."

"Hah, you make it sound like you've fallen in love with me. Get back in there," Ye Mingke said with a wave of his hand, full of disdain.

"Alright, alright... I’m going back. Wait—back?" The faceless creature suddenly realized something and shrieked. "Master, what do you mean by 'back'? Didn't you say you wouldn't turn me into a slave?"

"I am not turning you into my slave. You were already my slave to begin with; why would I need to turn you into one?"

"You fool who can't even tell the difference between the present and the future!"

Ye Mingke laughed, his face, usually so clear and bright, now wearing a hint of cunning.

"Get back in!"

One moment, there was a smile on Ye Mingke’s face; the next, the smile vanished, leaving only pure, cold ruthlessness as he shouted.

"No!" The faceless wax figure tried to struggle, but more blood-red threads surged from the puppet box, piercing his body and dragging him violently back inside. The box slammed shut with a boom, silencing even his screams instantly.

Ye Mingke watched the box coldly, the harshness on his face refusing to fade.

***

He had once been a very gentle and kind person, but after several brushes with life and death, he had learned to be flexible—or perhaps, cunning.

Integrity and kindness are beautiful things, but there are too many people in this world who use these virtues to destroy those who possess them.

Some people in this world are not worth it, just like Fang Wu, whom he had saved and who had promised to his face that he would never reveal his tracks.

Ye Mingke always remembered that man.

The long night was coming to an end. Ye Mingke had no intention of returning to sleep. Instead, he held up his hand, which was covered in fiery red scales, and examined it with a grave expression.

If he wasn't mistaken, this latest physical mutation was another "overflow."

Before the great battle that day, he had realized his body was on the verge of overflowing. During that battle, he had fallen into magma, and so... in his near-death state, he had once again lost consciousness and automatically absorbed whatever could sustain him. At that time, what he had absorbed was... magma?

Waking up this time, many other things had changed. He found that while he still felt a faint, constant hunger, eating food no longer seemed to trigger the sensation of an overflow.

It was as if blood-flesh was no longer what his body needed most.

Ye Mingke lowered his hand, causing the scales to retract. His other hand habitually stroked the ancient jade he had worn around his neck since childhood, his gaze fixed on the darkness ahead as he organized the changes within himself.

However, lost in thought and without his spirit eyes active, he did not notice that two faint cracks had appeared on the ancient jade.

"Was that the remnant soul of Lingchen just now?"

He was so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed Liu Xi sitting beside him. She turned her head to look at him and asked softly.

Of course, this was not just because he was distracted, but also because, despite the short time they had spent together, having traveled and survived death side-by-side for several days, they had let go of much of their guardedness toward each other.

"Yes, but not a remnant soul. It seems he turned himself into a puppet within the puppet box. But don't worry, I can control that box now. As long as he is inside, he can't make any waves. I’m only keeping him because he still holds some information that might be useful."

Ye Mingke turned back to look at Liu Xi. He saw her just rising from the pile of dry grass, with a few bits of hay clinging to her face. She looked like a dirty, whiskered little kitten—a bit comical, a bit cute.

And also... a bit pathetic.

When Ye Mingke saw her face, he had intended to smile, but the expression froze mid-formation. He felt a pang of heartache and sorrow for the woman before him.

He reached out instinctively, his fingers touching her cheek, their warmth slight.

He gently brushed away the bits of hay.

What woman in this world does not love beauty? Yet this woman carried burdens far too heavy and numerous.

"A girl should try to keep herself clean," he said softly, his clear eyes reflecting her own somewhat flustered, gentle gaze, tinged with sadness.

Seeing the panic in her eyes, Ye Mingke realized his gesture had been somewhat intimate, and he pulled his hand back with an apologetic expression.

He lowered his head, feeling embarrassed, and when he looked up to apologize, he saw that the panic in Liu Xi's eyes had vanished. She turned her head away, her gentle eyes looking calmly into the distance, as if pondering or recalling something.

***

Feeling Ye Mingke’s gaze as he looked up, she turned back and gave a soft smile—a smile of self-deprecating, frank humility.

Like a simple, elegant flower blooming in a thicket of thorns.

"You’re right, Mingke. I must look very ugly and dirty, don't I?"

Her bright smile carried a trace of bitterness. She turned her head toward the darkness before the dawn and whispered.

"The sky is about to brighten... I suddenly want to wash... my hair."

***

Many women in this world spend their mornings at their vanity.

The water was melted snow, heated by Ye Mingke’s fire, and the basin was a crude one carved from mountain stone.

In the cold, eerie darkness of dawn, the woman with tangled hair removed her scarf and took off her tattered fur coat, leaving only a thin garment that made her frame appear even more frail and slender.

Yet, who could know how such a thin and slender body contained the strength to carry the crushing weight of the world?

The woman who could throw punches to shatter enemies and wield a sword to strike down immortals appeared somewhat clumsy and at a loss as she bowed her head to wash her hair in the clear water.

In the end, Ye Mingke stepped forward to help her gently comb through those three thousand strands of tangled, dark hair.

As someone capable of small household tasks, he had once helped his aunt wash her hair back in the small town.

Clear water. Silken hair.

The woman was like a plum blossom.

In the quiet night, there was only the sound of water being stirred, the darkness serene and still.

"My father often said I was just a frail girl, incapable of shouldering the heavy burden of the martial path."

"So, for a long time, I haven't groomed or dressed myself like other women in the world. I didn't want to remember that I was a girl, and I didn't want my father to remember it either."

"Back then, there was nothing left to support his life, so I had no choice but to pick up that sword and walk ahead of him."

"I always believed that one day he would return. After meeting you, that resolute and steady father of mine finally returned."

In the dark night, the woman’s gentle voice echoed softly amidst the faint, splashing sounds of the water.

"So, thank you, Mingke. Thank you for at least giving my father the final hope in his life."

"And I am sorry. Because of my father's obsession, during that time, he brought upon you much pressure and pain that you should never have had to endure."