Miss Cannon Fodder Wants To Escape Death Flags - Chapter 354
Chapter 354
The two were furious, their eyes wide and bloodshot, panting like angry dogs, but utterly powerless to resist.
They looked like two dried-out husks, hollowed out and defeated.
When their gazes met hers, tears shimmered in their eyes.
Pitiful.
Far too pitiful.
Especially poor Little white dragon, who had no idea what was happening—he’d been dragged to this lecture by He Zhizhou, who had only the vaguest notion of what it was about.
Feeling a twinge of sorrow, Ning Ning silently retreated from the courtyard with Pei Ji.
By now, dusk was setting in.
Many of the smaller classes had concluded their day of teaching.
Ning Ning decided to look for Zheng Weiqi among the crowd.
After some wandering, she finally found Senior Sister Zheng at the main hall entrance.
The “Meditating on Zen” class was over, but for some reason, Senior Sister Zheng looked nothing like her usual sword-wielding self.
Instead, she wandered aimlessly, resembling a forlorn ghost.
A bad feeling struck Ning Ning.
She called out tentatively, “Senior Sister Zheng?”
When Zheng Weiqi turned blankly toward her, Ning Ning added cautiously, “How did your lesson go?”
Zheng Weiqi stared at her with hollow, dark eyes, as if they were two eerie, bottomless pits.
The sight made Ning Ning’s spine tingle.
There was a brief silence.
Then, Senior Sister Zheng’s mouth twitched into a strange, crooked smile.
Ning Ning watched in shock as Zheng Weiqi reached into her storage pouch, pulled out a handful of fine sand, and flung it against the wind.
With sand plastered across her face, Zheng Weiqi let out a deranged laugh.
She then hoisted a banner onto her shoulder, poured steaming tea over her own hands from a teapot, and even pulled out a scorpion, letting it sting her arm repeatedly.
Laughing maniacally, Zheng Weiqi declared:
“Is it the banner that moves, or the idea that once full, one must learn to let go? If you want to corrupt purity or harm those without malice, the evil will rebound upon yourself! Its nature is to sting, but compassion is my nature. My nature will not change because of its nature—haha! HAHAHA!”
Ning Ning: …
Her expression grew increasingly sharp.
Help! Senior Sister Zheng has gone mad!!!!
—
This Fanyin Temple is not a place anyone should linger.
The next day brought another round of classes, which left He Zhizhou, Lin Xun, and Zheng Weiqi utterly devastated.
When they returned, they were so miserable they looked like they were attending a funeral.
After a short discussion, they unanimously decided to head straight to the registration desk and erase their names from the list.
“They expect me to recite a hundred Buddhist philosophical stories in the time it takes for a single incense stick to burn,” Zheng Weiqi lamented, her expression tragic as they walked to the registry.
“Who can do that? And the most ridiculous thing is, several of the monks actually did it!”
“How is that even possible?”
He Zhizhou stared ahead blankly.
“I thought the class would involve monks in robes dancing in a circle around me, and I was sure I could resist that temptation… Why did it turn out like this?”
Lin Xun shivered in the cold wind.
“Wuwuwu…”
“So,” Ning Ning asked cautiously as they neared the registration desk, “are you really planning to sneakily erase your names?”
Zheng Weiqi responded with conviction: “There are so many people in each class. Even if one or two disappear, no one will notice. The only thing we need to ensure is that no one catches us in the act.”
To ensure the plan’s success, Ning Ning and Pei Ji were posted as lookouts at the two entrances to the registry.
In the icy winter night, everything felt particularly desolate.
The pale moonlight spilled across the snow like flowing water.
As Ning Ning kept a vigilant eye on her surroundings, a wave of gentle yet profound spiritual energy swept past without warning.
This energy was serene and unyielding, like a towering mountain.
Alarmed, Ning Ning quickly sent message to warn those inside, but before her words even finished, a rush of wind passed her ear.
“What are you doing here so late, little benefactor? Watching the surroundings—are you looking for someone?”
A calm, youthful voice rang out, clear as snow.
Ning Ning looked up to see a monk with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes.
His gaze shifted past Ning Ning, landing directly on the three figures frozen near the registry.
“Or perhaps,” he continued, “you’re here for… less virtuous reasons?”
The monk had arrived silently, seemingly materializing at her side in an instant—a clear indication of his high cultivation level.
Sure enough, in the next moment, he introduced himself with a polite tone: “This humble one is Jiru.”
So, it was none other than Elder Jiru of Fanyin Temple.
Caught red-handed in their mischief, the atmosphere grew incredibly awkward.
“I, I was just—”
If she claimed she was out for a walk, their separated group and the guilty, furtive behavior of the others near the registry would only raise suspicion.
Ning Ning couldn’t come up with an excuse and stalled for time, her mind racing.
Then, Pei Ji’s calm voice unexpectedly sounded in her ear:
“I found them.”
What? Found who? Who’s supposed to be found?
Ning Ning couldn’t unravel the logic, so she simply nodded in confusion.
Pei Ji continued, “You need to prepare yourself. They’re not… quite themselves right now.”
He paused, his tone growing serious.
“Because they’re… sleepwalking.”
Ning Ning froze.
Pei Ji had just delivered the most ridiculous explanation in a completely serious manner!
As his words landed, not only did Elder Jiru falter, but the three by the registry also exchanged stunned glances.
He Zhizhou: “Sleepwalking?”
Lin Xun: “Can… can we pull this off?”
Zheng Weiqi: “If he says so, we’ll have to play along. Wait—does anyone even know how sleepwalking works?”
He Zhizhou: “Leave it to me!”
Under the moonlit snow, a brief silence fell.
In the vast darkness, Elder Jiru clearly saw one of the figures by the registry begin to move—slowly, with a strange wriggling motion.
The moonlight illuminated the young sword cultivator’s face, pale and lifeless, his expression vacant.
His eyes were half-closed, revealing the whites and a wild, rolling gaze through narrow slits.
Then, the moonlight dimmed, and all three bodies rose at once.
Their necks and arms hung limp, and they moved stiffly in unison. The scene was so strange that the corpse-drivers in the Miao village had to call them brothers when they saw them.
Even among the bizarre movements, He Zhizhou stood out.
His condition seemed to deepen, his face twisted and his teeth grinding audibly.
Watching He Zhizhou, Ning Ning couldn’t help but think of the Yuanmou man from her history textbooks.
(T/N: Yuanmou Man is a subspecies of H. erectus which inhabited the Yuanmou Basin in Yunnan Province, southwestern China, roughly 1.7 million years ago.)
“This…”
Elder Jiru hesitated.
“This is sleepwalking?”
Before he could finish the thought, He Zhizhou shuffled closer, muttering darkly in his dreamlike trance:
“Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron… Carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon…”
It was the periodic table of elements.
But Jiru, oblivious, found it incomprehensible.
To him, the muttering sounded like some ancient, incomprehensible incantation—a sinister spell.
“Elder Jiru,” Pei Ji said calmly, “our disciples often sleepwalk in groups. Shall I wake them?”
Jiru looked conflicted.
Jiru: “No, that’s unnecessary. I’ve heard that waking a sleepwalker can be dangerous… Let’s just… quietly leave.”
He hesitated again, murmuring, “Who could have guessed that the disciples of the Xuanxu Sword Sect would be under so much pressure? How did such fine young people end up with a condition like this?”
Pei Ji remained silent for a moment before pointing to a nearby plum blossom.
Jiru suddenly understood.
“Ah, you mean to say, ‘The fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold.’ You’ve endured great trials in pursuit of the Dao, and such hardship is inevitable?”
Pei Ji shook his head, then pointed to He Zhizhou and Lin Xun.
“Sword cultivators.”
He then gestured to the plum branch in front of them.
“No money ( in front of the plum blossom).”
Ning Ning silently marveled.
Wow.
Pei Ji is a genius at drawing interference!
(T/N: méi qián” (literally “no money”). Pei Ji’s pun game is on point here—he points at the plum blossom tree and says “méi qián” (in front of the plum), which sounds exactly like “méi qián” (no money) in Chinese. He’s roasting the sword cultivators, like He Zhizhou and the others, for being so broke that even their sleepwalking might be financially motivated.)
