Chapter 258: The True Disciple of Taixu, Cheng Lingshuang
Staring at the serene figure with gray hair and jade eyes standing next to Ren, Cognitive Otto’s eyes instantly snapped crimson. His breathing grew harsh and shallow.
It was as if his entire world had abruptly shrunk down to a single point, holding only Fu Hua’s figure, while everyone and everything else was forcibly rejected from his reality.
"Otto..."
Feeling the cognitive construct’s feverish gaze—like a drowning man staring at his only lifeline—Fu Hua frowned uncomfortably.
A gaze so intensely fanatical and worshipful sent a deep, violently weird chill down her spine.
She subtly stepped closer to Ren. Just as the leader of the Phantom Thieves had predicted, a cognitive version of Otto existed within this Palace. Faced with this overly intense and borderline unhinged stare, Fu Hua silently sought the protection of her new team leader.
"Rakshasa? Why are you here?!"
Just as Cognitive Otto’s gaze drifted toward Ren in response to Fu Hua’s movement, Sushang’s shocked and delighted voice rang out. She quickly jogged over to Cognitive Otto and practically smacked him on the shoulder in greeting.
According to the memories Sushang possessed before she woke up from her five-hundred-year dream, she and her Master were supposed to be the only ones at this cabin. She hadn’t even met the "Rakshasa" yet, let alone brought him to her home! Logically, he had no business being here right now.
"You brought me here, Sushang. Have you forgotten?"
Even with Sushang standing right in front of him and clapping his shoulder, Cognitive Otto didn’t so much as glance at her. His green eyes remained locked onto Fu Hua and Ren in the distance. He merely offered a flat, monotone reply.
"I brought you here? I did? ...Whatever, it doesn’t matter!"
Hearing his response, Sushang scratched her head in utter confusion. But no matter how hard she racked her brains—to the point her scalp actually started itching—she couldn’t dig up a single memory of bringing the Rakshasa home. Deciding it wasn’t worth the headache, she gave up. As long as he was here, that was fine.
"Don’t just stand outside! Come in, let’s talk!"
Having repeated this cycle for five hundred years, Sushang had watched the Rakshasa’s hopes shatter into absolute despair time and time again. Even someone as dense as her knew exactly what happened when the Rakshasa finally reunited with Grandmaster Jingwei.
She didn’t want to see him broken and hollowed out of all hope again. Even if the ending couldn’t be rewritten, she wanted to delay the arrival of that cruel reality for as long as possible.
However, just as Sushang turned to wave Ren and the others inside to rest, a sword beam as blindingly white as frost and snow erupted from deep within the cabin, rippling outward.
Naturally, the first person in its path was Cognitive Otto, who was standing right in the doorway.
THWACK.
Without even the chance to let out a muffled groan, the cognitive construct was struck squarely in the back of the head by whatever object the sword beam carried. His eyes rolled back instantly, and he crumpled to the dirt floor, plunging into a deep, eternal slumber.
"That sword beam..."
After dropping Cognitive Otto, the frost-white projectile clattered to the ground, revealing its true form.
It was an utterly ordinary, visibly well-used wooden chopstick. Despite acting as the vessel for a sword beam strong enough to knock out a cognitive construct, the chopstick hadn’t suffered a single scratch. The only blemish on it was the dust it gathered from hitting the floor.
It was a terrifying testament to the user’s microscopic control over their power.
Retracting her gaze from the chopstick, Fu Hua, standing half a step behind Ren, narrowed her eyes in profound gravity. As the creator of the Edge of Taixu, there was absolutely no way she wouldn’t recognize the energy signature of her own disciple’s technique.
"Ack?! M-Master?! Why did you just knock the Rakshasa out?!"
Sushang merely blinked, and the frost-white sword beam had already flown out and put Otto to sleep. She stood frozen in shock for several seconds before finally shrieking at the figure slowly emerging from the cabin.
Sushang’s Master wasn’t a wrinkly, dying old woman, but an incredibly beautiful young lady in the absolute prime of her life.
Her smooth white hair was tied back into four distinct loops, with two delicate strands resting gently against her collarbones. Dressed in ancient, black-and-white martial robes, Cheng Lingshuang walked out with a completely deadpan expression.
It wasn’t until Sushang clutched her head and shrieked that the corners of Lingshuang’s lips finally curled into a thoroughly satisfied smirk.
"Why did I knock him out? Hmm... Because this man is in the way. He was blocking the door."
Lingshuang’s eyes darted to the left for a fraction of a second, exactly like someone scrambling to invent an excuse on the spot. Then, flashing a blatantly wicked, little-devil grin, she offered the excuse to her disciple.
"Master, you really..."
Sushang slumped her shoulders in sheer defeat. Having lived with her Master day in and day out, she was painfully aware of the older woman’s natural black-bellied tendencies. But there was nothing she could do about her Master’s sadistic sense of humor.
"What’s wrong with it? You didn’t want him to hear the upcoming conversation anyway, right?"
Faced with her disciple’s helpless sigh, Lingshuang maintained her perfectly relaxed, carefree demeanor, tossing the remark over her shoulder. Then, her gaze shifted, locking eyes with the immortal standing beside Ren.
"...Master? How do you know that? Don’t tell me you remember everything too?!"
This cycle had already derailed spectacularly thanks to the Phantom Thieves barging in and Sushang’s own consciousness waking up. But since the Rakshasa hadn’t met Celestial Jingwei yet in this loop, her Master logically shouldn’t know about his doomed wish!
Even though Ren had dubbed her the "Palace Ruler," Sushang felt like she was the most clueless person in the room. She could only stand to the side, her head practically spinning with question marks.
"It has been a long time... Master."
After a long pause, evidently realizing that Fu Hua would never initiate the conversation, Lingshuang smiled. She offered her former teacher a faint, gentle smile.
Five hundred years had passed. Fu Hua had long since broken free from the chaotic, paranoid era where the mantra of SWARA relentlessly tortured her mind.
The seven disciples she had personally raised were all buried deep within the graveyard of history. Because of that, Fu Hua could now look back at this bloody Chapter of her past with objective rationality.
Though she was ambushed and murdered by the seven disciples she trained, she had ironically broken free from the demonic curse of "slaying all who deviate," finally reclaiming the freedom of her own heart and will.
Staring at the girl who should have been dead for centuries, but was now standing before her and smiling, Fu Hua’s jade eyes swirled with impossibly complex emotions.
If Lingshuang had drawn her sword with hostility, or even acted guilty and panicked, Fu Hua could have easily treated her as an enemy. But Lingshuang was adopting the casual, respectful demeanor of a disciple greeting her teacher. It left Fu Hua entirely unsure of how to react.
"Compared to the past, you’ve grown much weaker, Master. But... you’ve also become much more human."
Lingshuang swept her gaze over the Phantom Thieves, her eyes lingering heavily on Ren before she softly voiced her true thoughts.
The Celestial Jingwei who once protected Shenzhou may have worn a human face, but she understood nothing of the human heart. She executed the directive of slaying all who deviate like a cold, unfeeling machine.
She possessed zero mortal emotions—no joy, anger, sorrow, or delight. She felt utterly isolated from the mortal world, so icy and detached that communication was impossible.
But now? Although her Master’s power had drastically plummeted—a terrifying drop from a literal god to a mundane mortal—her emotions had become vivid and clear.
She had finally become human.
As one of the Seven Disciples of Taixu who had once lived with Fu Hua day and night, Lingshuang could spot these subtle changes instantly.
"It’s because of you, isn’t it? My Master has been under your care. May I satisfy my curiosity and ask about the nature of your relationship?"
The flash of relief and fondness in Lingshuang’s eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a mischievous smirk. She turned her gaze to Ren, asking the question with an eager lilt in her voice.
"It’s merely a relationship between a team leader and a probationary member," Ren replied calmly.
Even though Fu Hua was technically his freshly captured spy-slash-prisoner, they were currently in front of her disciple.
Plus, he wanted to extend a little goodwill to the immortal he planned on officially recruiting. Thus, he opted not to bring up the whole "prisoner of war" detail in front of Lingshuang.
"A team leader and a probationary member? This is my first time seeing my Master willingly serve under someone else. And standing so close to a man, no less."
Lingshuang stared at Ren for a long moment, her wicked grin widening. She turned back to Fu Hua, unprompted.
"I don’t have much personal experience in this field, Master, but I highly advise you to polish your eyes and be a bit more careful when picking a man. Don’t end up getting scammed by some wild dog like Seventh Sister did..."
"...Oh! Actually, if you don’t know how to judge a man’s character, why don’t we let Sushang test the waters? She inherited Seventh Sister’s terrible taste in men. So, if Sushang happens to fall for him, I strongly advise you to drop him immediately, Master."
"MAAAASSSS-TERRRR!!! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"
Being aggressively teased to this degree, Sushang instantly forgot every confusing question in her head. Her face flushed violently red as she shrieked at her Master in pure, burning embarrassment.
"As I suspected. Unlike the Otto over there, you aren’t a cognitive construct born from Li Sushang’s Palace. You are an independent entity possessing a true ego."
Ren exchanged a glance with Hare. The Stigma entity’s eyes confirmed his suspicion.
The disciple Fu Hua called Lingshuang wasn’t a mere cognitive figment or a Shadow soldier. Her existence mirrored Kallen’s situation in Yae Sakura’s Palace—she was a genuine, independent Shadow projecting herself into Sushang’s domain.
"I don’t entirely understand your terminology, but you are correct that my will exists independently of Sushang’s mind."
As a relic of five centuries past, Lingshuang didn’t understand Ren’s Metaverse jargon, but she grasped the core concept perfectly. She nodded lightly, casually admitting the truth.
"My name is Cheng Lingshuang. I am one of the seven unfilial disciples Master once taught. I say ’unfilial’ because the seven of us conspired together and murdered her... Of course, Celestial Jingwei is immortal and indestructible. After resting for a few years, she was able to walk the earth once again."
Lingshuang introduced herself to Ren with breezy nonchalance. She openly admitted to organizing her Master’s assassination, practically ripping open Fu Hua’s deepest historical scar right to her face.
Faced with Lingshuang’s endless chatter, Ren opted for silence.
Meanwhile, Kiana, Mei, and the others listening from the sidelines felt the atmosphere take a nosedive into sheer toxicity.
"Is she trying to pick a fight?! Killing Fu Hua once was bad enough, but how does she have the sheer audacity to brag about it to her face?!"
Sensing the rapidly deteriorating vibe, Kiana subtly scuttled over to Mei and Bronya, whispering her complaints to the Herrscher of Thunder.
Painfully aware of her own currently weak combat power, Kiana strategically hid behind her two strongest friends just in case a bloodbath broke out.
As for why she didn’t hide behind Ren? Because wherever Ren stood was bound to be the epicenter of the most violently destructive crossfire. Given the choice, Kiana preferred the "safe" zone.
"Maybe she thinks because Fu Hua can’t permanently die, she’ll easily forgive her? ...But that line of logic is utterly unhinged. Bronya cannot comprehend her motives."
Bronya furrowed her brows, trying to calculate Lingshuang’s psychological angle. The more she processed it, the more absurd it became, until she finally facepalmed in defeat.
"Even if Fu Hua didn’t permanently cease to exist, she was still genuinely killed once. The physical agony was real. The lost years were real. The betrayal was obviously real. If Cheng Lingshuang were just an illusion in Sushang’s Palace, that would be one thing. But she openly admitted to being real! And now she’s violently pouring salt on Fu Hua’s wounds? Is she genuinely trying to provoke a deathmatch?!"
