Daily life of a cultivation judge-Chapter 1244: Your eyes look peaceful (2)

"Why do you want to live in my eyes?" Yang Qing asked, in a tone that suggested even he couldn’t believe he was asking such a question.

"Like I said earlier, they’re peaceful. Isn’t it common sense that if you’re about to die, you spend your final moments somewhere peaceful?" said the cicada, casting Yang Qing a soft, concerned look edged with disbelief.

Yang Qing instantly regretted asking that question and had to suppress the sudden urge to pummel the cicada into the ground.What’s with that look of pity? How is living in someone’s eyes normal? She’s the one lacking sense.

As much as he wanted to voice those thoughts—especially the last one—he’d already lost enough dignity as it was. No need to add to it by arguing with a crazy cicada. Thanks to her antics, he even started questioning whether it had been a good idea to bring "the broken" cicada with him.

He’d read enough accounts of the dangers unstable formation arrays posed to their surroundings. His life was already chaotic enough; he didn’t need to toss more unstable elements into that pot.

Ironically, the same doubts he was having were exactly the same ones the natural yin array cicada was having at that very moment, as she questioned whether it was safe to make Yang Qing’s eyes her final resting place, given how lacking he seemed in the thinking department.

As a spirit beast who had awakened her critical thinking at birth—along with her wisdom pearl, something spirit beasts typically didn’t do—she took great pride in her intellect. She didn’t act on impulse like other spirit beasts often did, and actually had the freedom to put thought before action.

That level of control gave her a sense of superiority over her muscle-brained counterparts who relied on nothing but brute strength. Those were the opponents she enjoyed toying with—and the ones she looked down on the most.

And now, seeing Yang Qing’s lack, she couldn’t help but fear that making his eyes her home—given how close the eyes were to the brain—might allow his lack of sense to rub off on her and taint her flawless mind.

Her pride had already taken a massive hit when she discovered that someone had planted a rune and a spiritual imprint in her soul without her knowledge; the very soul that was supposed to be the most powerful part of her.

That discovery, to say the least, had shattered her in more ways than one. But even with that blow, she still clung to one thing: at least she was smart. She may have fallen victim to some schemer out there, reduced to little more than a puppet, but she still had her sharp mind. If she lost even that... then what would she have left?

She stared intently at Yang Qing. After an internal struggle that lasted all of a whopping three seconds, she finally came to a decision.What does dignity matter at this point? she thought in resignation. I can just treat this as a research study... my last research. Seeing life as a muscle brain before I go might not be bad, she added, trying to spin a positive out of the situation.

It didn’t work. But what could she do?

Maybe I could think of it as charity? she thought, casting Yang Qing a look filled with pity and soft compassion. As thanks for letting me spend my last moments in your eyes, hopefully my wisdom pearl can make up for your deficit and give you a better life, she added, her gaze warming with affection.

She even moved closer to Yang Qing and patted his foot, looking up at him with an expression that seemed to say:

Don’t worry, I will help you.

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but given how expressive her actions and expression were, Yang Qing felt another wave of anger immediately wash over him.

"There are no techniques that can make eyes into nests," Yang Qing said calmly, his cold gaze falling on the cicada. He couldn’t punch her to death like his inner voice wanted, but he could at least put her dreams to death.

He was being petty, and he knew it, but some things just had to be done.

The look the cicada gave him wasn’t something Yang Qing could just let pass. If he did, then he was finished. Ellie, the Celestial Nesting Weaver, Kang Huilang, and all the rest who constantly gave him ulcers and throbbing headaches might catch the scent of that weakness, and who knew how much worse things could get from there.

For his peace, he had to act.And act he did.

A sense of satisfaction welled up inside him as he saw that look of disbelief on the cicada’s face.

"There isn’t?" the cicada asked, her tone filled with disbelief as she inched closer to Yang Qing, gripping the hem of his robes.

"How can that be?" she added in despair, shaking her head—while Yang Qing soaked it in with glee.

"I was sure a sketchy cultivator like yourself would know. But then again, given how even your common sense is la—"

The cicada suddenly paused mid-sentence, stiffly raising her head as her body became paralyzed with fear as she looked up at the smiling face leaning closer to her.

"My common sense is what?" Yang Qing asked in a soft, warm tone. He wore a peaceful smile, his eyes slitted from how wide it was. The cicada didn’t dare look into those eyes again.

My end might come sooner than I thought, she fearfully thought when she saw Yang Qing’s pupils shine with a red-orange apocalyptic glow.

...

Spirit Water Oak Tree

"What happened here?" Yang Qing asked as he walked over to the spirit water oak tree, surrounded by a blue water dome filled with salmon.

He halted his steps, stopping exactly at the subject behind his question. Just to the right of his foot was an unconscious body lying a few feet away from the blue water dome.

The body belonged to a slender, tall man who looked to be in his late forties. He had short black hair, a thin-cheeked face, and wore a black robe—or at least pieces of one, given it looked like it had been shredded by a thousand wind blades. A thin saber lay next to him. freewebnσvel.cѳm

Despite the state of his robes, the man didn’t have a single scratch on him, save for a white X-shaped mark that spanned his entire torso. The mark looked more like a soft indentation in the skin than a wound, yet the fear-stricken eyes of the unconscious body told a very different story.

And it wasn’t just the body that looked gripped by fear. The three spirit beasts present all bore the same expression of dread.

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