Seven Songs(Yin Deng Jue/Secret Of Leading The Light) - Chapter 28
Chapter 28: The Demon Hunter is Not a Taoist Priest (Part 2)
Mingran left the shop in high spirits, thoroughly satisfied.
The shopkeeper muttered prayers to the gods as he carefully moved Yu Sang, completely unaware that, in that very moment, her eyes slowly opened—bright and alert, with no trace of unconsciousness or confusion.
Half an hour later, Mingran was carried into a room by the shopkeeper and dumped in a corner.
The man muttered apologies under his breath before hastily leaving, slamming the door shut with a loud clang, plunging the entire room into darkness.
Yu Sang opened her eyes and strained to move her limbs, just about to attempt standing when the door creaked open again.
She quickly shut her eyes and slumped back against the wall.
“You stay in here for now too,” came the shopkeeper’s voice.
Then, another set of footsteps approached.
Even in the dim light, where the newcomer’s face was indiscernible, Yu Sang recognized the unhurried gait—it was Yan Qige.
“Aiding demons in their evil deeds—aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?”
Sure enough, Yan Qige’s voice was as cold as ever.
“Divine retribution? That’d at least mean the heavens are watching. But they aren’t. Don’t blame me—if I don’t obey her, I won’t live to see tomorrow’s sun.”
The shopkeeper’s tone was half-joking, half-resigned as he shut the door behind Yan Qige, followed by the sound of a lock turning.
The footsteps outside gradually faded—likely the shopkeeper leaving.
Yu Sang opened her eyes to pitch-black darkness, but she knew Yan Qige was standing less than two paces away.
“Yu Sang, are you here?”
Yan Qige’s voice emerged from the darkness, calm and measured, neither tense nor indifferent.
Yu Sang didn’t answer.
In the blackness before her, the words he had spoken under Mingran’s threat echoed in her ears.
Her chest tightened with dull, throbbing discomfort, mingled with anger and disappointment.
A soft flick—a flame ignited.
A lantern flared to life in the darkness.
Yan Qige summoned a Soul-Guiding Lantern with a finger seal.
The lantern materialized midair before solidifying and descending into his waiting hand.
He raised it slightly, casting light toward the corner where Yu Sang sat.
She was curled against the wall, eyes closed, head tilted slightly to the side, exposing a slender stretch of pale neck.
Her delicate profile—the curve of her cheek, the sweep of her lashes, the elegant slope of her nose—was outlined perfectly by the lantern’s glow, casting an enchanting silhouette against the wall.
It was the first time Yan Qige had studied Yu Sang so intently.
Only now did he realize how striking she was—not in a bewitching, city-toppling way, but in something far subtler.
Like a breeze or the scent of flowers—indefinable, yet more captivating than any overt beauty.
“Get up. Stop pretending.”
Yan Qige crouched, bringing the lantern closer.
“I’ll pretend if I want to,” Yu Sang retorted, still motionless, eyes shut, voice prickly.
“Ungrateful. I was worried you’d been hurt by that demon, and now you’re putting on airs?”
Yan Qige stood, irritation creeping into his tone.
“Why bother worrying about me? There are countless little demons out there for you to pick and choose from. What does it matter if I live or die?”
Yan Qige understood immediately—she’d overheard his exchange with Mingran and was now stewing in resentment.
Though his words had been a tactic to avoid conceding ground, hearing them had undoubtedly cut her deeply.
Yet, even knowing this, his pride refused to bend.
Explaining himself felt like an impossible surrender.
“Nightfall is in two hours. Remember, you’re their chosen sacrifice. If you’d rather sit here and wait, so be it.”
He turned away, feigning indifference.
Yu Sang’s eyes flew open as she leapt to her feet.
Yan Qige expected fear, but instead, she glared at him, furious.
“You said I meant nothing to you. Now you’re acting all concerned—do you think I’m an idiot? Or just some pet demon you keep around?”
Even when he’d scolded her in front of Mingran at the inn, a single conciliatory gesture had been enough to make her forget her anger.
But this time, Yan Qige could tell—she was genuinely hurt.
“You care that much about what I think?”
He softened his gaze, voice gentle.
“Who cares? I don’t care at all!”
She shouted back, though her eyes inexplicably stung.
Yan Qige hadn’t anticipated such a vehement reaction, but he showed no surprise.
He simply watched her, letting her yell, his expression unreadable.
“You’re a demon hunter. I’m a demon. You’re powerful; I’m weak. We were never the same. I only stuck around to mooch off you, using your strength to hunt demon cores for my own cultivation. I overstepped before, but once we escape, I won’t cling to you anymore.”
“Anything else?”
After a pause, when Yu Sang seemed done, Yan Qige prompted.
She shot him a glare, turning her head away in silent refusal to continue.
“If you’re out of grievances for now, let’s table this. Right now, escaping is the priority. Agreed?”
His tone held a hint of teasing.
“Hmph.”
Yu Sang exhaled sharply through her nose.
“Silence means consent.”
Yan Qige lifted the lantern and moved to the door, testing its surface.
He then extended the lantern toward Yu Sang.
Staring at the offering, her anger momentarily forgotten, she stood frozen in shock.
“Hold this for me.”
At his urging, she reached out with slightly trembling fingers.
The moment her hand closed around the handle, memories flashed before her eyes—unexpected, overwhelming.
Her heart raced as her grip tightened, causing the lantern’s flame to flicker wildly.
Tiny pink embers rose like fireflies, swirling around her.
“Good. The shopkeeper’s cunning but not thorough—no spells on the door. I can break us out. But…”
He turned back only to find Yu Sang staring transfixed at the lantern, oblivious to his words.
“But what?”
Snapping back to attention, she swiftly snatched the floating embers from the air, clutching them in her palm before looking up at him.
Yan Qige studied her with mild suspicion but let it pass.
“But if we escape now, we’ll lose the advantage of surprise.”
“Oh.”
Yu Sang’s reply was absentminded as she strode past him to the door.
Murmuring an incantation, she pressed a finger between the door and its frame.
A slender bamboo shoot sprouted from her fingertip, creeping along the gap like a living vine until it pried open a narrow fissure.
