Master, Your Salted Fish Has Arrived - Chapter 28
Liao Tingyan sometimes wondered if following this powerful master required skipping ten episodes in advance. His thoughts jumped so wildly she could never keep up, leaving her in constant confusion.
Right now, Sima Jiao’s eyes bored into her, silently demanding an answer. But her head was still full of question marks.
Normally, when a man says he’s willing to give his life to someone, it’s supposed to be touching—a classic romance confession scene. Yet in Sima Jiao’s mouth, the words twisted into something more like a threat, as if he were offering to drag her down with him.
Liao Tingyan had no idea how to respond. After a moment’s hesitation, she tried the only language she knew best in her current form: “Squeak, squeak, squeak?”
Sima Jiao glared at her. “Speak like a human.”
I’m literally an otter right now, she thought. This is my natural language.
But then his voice sharpened, weighted with the force of True Speech: “Do you want my life or not?”
The words slipped out of her before she could stop herself: “Not really.”
His brows furrowed, as if disappointed by her complete lack of ambition. “Isn’t that your mission? Even if you don’t want to kill me, you’d benefit from my death. How can you have so little drive?”
Mission? Drive? Liao Tingyan was thoroughly lost. The truth was, she had no grand ambition. Some people claw their way up in life; she preferred to coast along.
She took a steadying breath and said nervously, “Listen—it’s not that I don’t care, but I don’t want to kill anyone. And you don’t look like someone about to die. Maybe… find a physician? Take some spirit pills? Don’t give up treatment so casually.” Her gaze darted to the blood dripping from him, her anxiety increasing.
Sima Jiao’s tone dropped an octave. “You really don’t want it?”
Liao Tingyan: “…No.”
His eyes narrowed. “That was your last chance.”
A shiver ran down her spine. She scratched nervously at her fur.
“Then,” he said coldly, “you’ll die with me.”
Liao Tingyan: …How did we get here?!
She tried one last time, “Won’t you at least take some medicine?”
Before she finished, he coughed up a shocking mouthful of blood. Liao Tingyan’s first thought wasn’t fear but regret: What a waste! That stuff’s supposed to be priceless!
With a flick of his finger, crimson flames devoured the pool of blood, leaving the ground spotless. Catching her stare, he chuckled darkly. “When I die, the flames will cremate me too. Not a drop of my flesh or blood will remain for them.”
…Cremation? That’s oddly modern of you.
“Come here.” He beckoned.
Liao Tingyan hesitated, then fluttered onto his thigh, trying not to slip in the blood. His gaze softened strangely. “I thought you’d run. I sentenced you to death, yet you stayed.”
She thought grimly: Run? From him? He’s just waiting for me to try so he can fry me in three seconds flat.
“Why won’t you run?” His tone carried more weariness than curiosity, as though even he couldn’t make sense of himself.
Liao Tingyan stared at him, baffled. He said he was dying, yet he still had the energy to torment her. Honestly, he needed a doctor more than anything.
“Master Sima,” she said softly, “if you won’t see a physician, at least… change your clothes? Clean yourself up a little?”
Instead of answering, he ran a bloodied hand through her fur, leaving streaks of red. “We’ll all be ashes soon anyway. What does appearance matter?”
Liao Tingyan, horrified at her matted fur: This pig’s trotter truly has no conscience.
Yet even as he stroked her absentmindedly, the madness seemed to drain from his face. For once, he looked tired, almost human. His eyes drifted into a void of weariness and emptiness.
His voice dropped to a murmur: “Dying like this… I wonder how their faces will look. The Fengshan clan—extinct. Gengchen Immortal Mansion—its roots severed. All their blood-soaked glory will crumble to dust, and in a hundred years the so-called premier Immortal Mansion will collapse into ruin.”
He laughed wildly, the sound unhinged.
But his laughter cut off when an overwhelming pressure crashed down from above, rattling the courtyard walls.
Sima Jiao’s head snapped up. Through divine sense, he saw the encirclement forming miles away: Sect Leader Shi Qianlü, palace masters, elders—all the high-ranking cultivators of Gengchen Immortal Mansion had come to end him.
“Sima Jiao!” Shi Qianlü’s voice thundered. “Today, you will not leave alive!”
Usually mild and restrained, Shi Qianlü now radiated fury. How could he not? The Shi clan had plotted for centuries, raising Hundred Phoenix Mountain to seize full control of the Immortal Mansion, only for Sima Jiao to destroy everything in a single night. Thousands of years of effort, gone.
And worse—if he unleashed the full spirit fire, it would take their sect down with him. They couldn’t allow that.
Sima Jiao rose slowly from his chair, blood still dripping. A cold smile curved his lips. “Want my life? Keep dreaming.”
Gone was the dying man in pain. In his place stood Death itself, cloaked in fire.
…Wait. Liao Tingyan blinked from his collar. Just moments ago, he was slumped like an old man waiting for the end. Now he was practically energized by murder. Did their enemies just… motivate him back to life?
On the rooftop, flames poured from his body, swelling into a blazing sea. The cultivators encircling him balked, hesitant to sacrifice themselves.
“Don’t let him get close! He’ll drain your cultivation!” Shi Qianlü shouted.
But the fire spread faster than they could retreat. Within it, Sima Jiao’s form blurred with the inferno, his shadow stretching into a towering flame phantom. His laughter echoed, mad and triumphant.
The elders had no choice but to unleash their full strength. Spells lit the sky, clashing with firestorms that melted the ground below. Mortals and low-level cultivators in the city screamed as buildings crumbled and the sky rained fire. None of the great sect leaders spared them a glance.
Only Liao Tingyan, tucked in Sima Jiao’s collar, remained calm. She had always known the truth—immortals didn’t protect mortals; they only protected power. She even had the presence of mind to organize her mental space while waiting for the chaos to pass.
But the battle dragged on, day into night, night into day. Still, the fire raged, still, Sima Jiao devoured lives like a ghost from hell.
When Liao Tingyan finally dozed off, she woke to find herself soaked in his blood. The air was no longer ice-cold but stiflingly hot, like a furnace.
For a fleeting moment, she thought: Has all his blood drained out already?
She patted his abdomen with a paw. Instantly, his blood-slick hand pressed her down.
“Afraid?” His voice rasped. “Don’t be. Fear belongs to them, not you.”
Liao Tingyan: Do you have to cough blood every time you act cool?
Looking at his cracked skin, his bloodied veins, she finally understood—this really was his limit.
She stroked his chest gently. “If it’s too painful, just let go. Since you’re dying anyway… there’s no need to suffer so much for them.”