After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 14

Ningning had never intended to kill from the start.

Many of the spirit beasts and monsters in the Xiaozhong Mountain secret realm attacked humans indiscriminately, but at the root of it, they were only defending their territory and driving out intruders.

From their perspective, it was the cultivators who suddenly appeared that were the unreasonable ones.

So, unless it was a matter of life and death, she had no intention of taking lives.

Surprisingly, the Human-faced Scorpion actually took her flattery very well. After a tsundere-like snort, not only did it point out the exit of the cave, it also marked the location of the Tianxin Grass on Ningning’s map to help her find it.

Once she left the eerie green, gloomy cave, Ningning finally stepped fully into the Xiaozhong Mountain area.

The cave was halfway up the mountain. Looking out from there, one could see layers upon layers of mountains surrounding her.

The sky, clouds, mountains, and waters all blended into a serene sea of green. Distant mist veiled the mountains like delicate brows, while the closer surroundings were alive with birdsong and the fragrance of flowers and leaves.

The place the scorpion pointed out was nearby. In less than the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, Ningning had already reached her destination.

It was a little corner at the edge of a cliff, hidden behind a massive boulder. The rock was pressed tightly against the mountain wall, leaving only a narrow gap barely wide enough for one person to pass through.

Vines and branches concealed the gap, making it hard to spot without careful observation. Even if someone parted the vegetation and peered inside, they would only see a cramped little clearing.

Most people would lose interest at that point, never imagining that if they squeezed through and looked to the right, they would discover a spirit plant hidden behind the rock—pure white in color with four heart-shaped leaves.

—Tianxin Grass, a legendary herb said to cure all ailments, each leaf a miracle in itself.

What Ningning didn’t expect was that, as she lifted the thick vines next to the boulder, she suddenly heard an unfamiliar female voice from behind the rock.

The voice was soft, trembling as if from fear or nervousness, as it spoke:
“Senior, my family is gravely ill. Without the Tianxin Grass to save them…”

Before she could finish, a sharp, spirited voice interrupted her without mercy:
“I’ve heard that excuse too many times. Instead of going through all the trouble of lying to me, why don’t you focus on answering this riddle.”

Two people? In such a hidden place?

Suspicious, Ningning poked her head in.

Sure enough, there were two figures behind the rock.

One of them she vaguely recognized—it was Yun Duanyue, the one from Liuming Mountain who never spoke to strangers. The other was a woman in her twenties. Her features were average, but she had an ethereal grace, and leaned lazily against the rock wall with a half-smile.

Sensing an unfamiliar presence, both turned their heads at the same time.

Yun Duanyue looked like a startled rabbit, lowering her lashes immediately after a brief glance. The other woman, however, smiled boldly and asked, “You’re here for the Tianxin Grass too?”

When Ningning nodded, the woman beamed:
“I am the spirit of the stone. I’ve kept company with the Tianxin Grass for a hundred years. If you wish to take it, you’ll have to ask me first.”

She didn’t sound like she intended to refuse outright, so Ningning knew there was a chance. She respectfully asked, “Then what does Senior mean?”

“This boring place hasn’t changed in decades. The only thing I’ve had from the human world all this time is a book someone dropped here—Collected Couplets.”

The stone spirit smiled as if quite pleased with Ningning’s attitude.
“I’ve read it for years, but never found anyone who could match a proper couplet. Today, I’ll give the upper line and you’ll give the response. If you succeed, I’ll hand over the herb. I won’t be picky—tone and meaning don’t matter. As long as the character’s pair up, it counts. How about it?”

So it’s a cultured monster—probably a distant cousin of Sun Wukong, also born from stone.

Ningning nodded and looked at Yun Duanyue beside her. “You came first. I won’t cut in line.”

Yun Duanyue still kept her head down. Just being spoken to made her ears flush red. She pressed her lips together.

“She can’t answer it,” the stone spirit said bluntly.

As she spoke, an old, yellowed book appeared in her hand. The pages rustled as she flipped through it, and she slowly read out the first line.
“Chī mèi wǎng liǎng (魑魅魍魉)” – demons and monsters.

Ningning instantly responded, “Xiàn bǐng hún tun (馅饼馄饨)” – meat pies and wontons.

The stone spirit visibly froze.

But being a stone steeped in literature for decades, she held back. After a pause, she continued,
“Xiǎo dào xī fēng shòu mǎ (小道西风瘦马)” – narrow path, west wind, thin horse.

Ningning seemed to recall a scene, touched her belly, and chuckled:
“Dà pán dōng tǔ féi niú (大盘东土肥牛)” – large plate, Eastern beef hotpot.

Stone Spirit: …

The stone spirit let out a laugh of disbelief. “Why are all your responses about food?”

Ningning replied with a serious face.
“You said tone and meaning don’t matter—just that the characters match.”

She was actually quite confident.

It had been years since the stone spirit had played this kind of word game with anyone, and when she finally found someone, it turned out to be a little rascal.

Very well, she’d raise the difficulty. With more complex lines, surely this girl wouldn’t be able to keep stuffing food in.

“My third line,” she declared.
“Hán táng dù hè jiǎo (寒塘渡鹤脚)” – A crane’s legs crossing a cold pond.

The girl paused for a moment.

Clearly, she only had a little wit. Now that the line was harder, her true colors—

Before the thought even finished forming in her mind, a crisp, youthful voice rang out:
“Rè guō dùn zhū tí (热锅炖猪蹄)” – Pig trotters stewing in a hot pot.

The spirit in the stone twitched slightly.

Hot versus cold, stew versus ferry, pig’s trotters versus crane’s legs—not only were the radicals of the characters contrasting, even the meanings and parts of speech were oddly aligned. While it didn’t sound wrong at first…

She couldn’t help feeling that her own couplet had just been dirtied.

—No matter how she thought about it, it just reeked of stewed pig’s trotters, damn it! Were you a cooking pot in your past life?! Why is your brain always full of food!?

“You—you little brat!”

Shi Zhongling ground her teeth. “Your tones and imagery are all wrong. This is like you’re playing nonsense couplets!”

So-called nonsense couplets were a peculiar style of paired phrases that didn’t require matching meaning or grammar between the upper and lower lines—just word-for-word symmetry. Because of this, they often sounded awkward and absurd, producing a strange sense of dissonance.

For example, Zeng Guofan once wrote, “Peach and plum compete for glory in officialdom; France, Holland, Belgium.”
And in the Republican era: “Three Star Brandy; May’s Yellow Plum Rain.”

Ultimately, this style was just a fringe literary game—a kind of wordplay for nitpickers.

“What’s wrong with nonsense couplets? They’re fun!”

Ning Ning admitted openly, “Poverty versus nothingness, excuse versus backtalk, sailor versus ham, wood ear versus unfaithful—didn’t you say as long as the words match?”

Shi Zhongling was momentarily speechless. After taking a deep breath to suppress her exasperation, she continued, “One more round! Ying shan hong, ying shan hong!”

Ying shan hong (lit. “glow on mountain red”) referred to a flower species, and the character ying could also be a verb meaning “to reflect” or “to shine.”

After she spoke, she shot a glare at Ning Ning: “And don’t you dare say stewed pig’s trotters again, or roasted duck feet! The mood and imagery need to match!”

“…Oh.”

Ning Ning, having had her punchline stolen, looked visibly crestfallen. Seeing her standing there in low spirits, Shi Zhongling allowed herself a smug smile.

Now that the girl couldn’t rely on clever tricks, surely she’d run out of moves.

“This couplet is quite interesting. I just… lack the literary depth.”

Just as Shi Zhongling expected, Ning Ning’s voice drifted over softly. Her smug smile grew.

In truth, this little girl was rather amusing. Even if nonsense couplets were a low-level form, being able to fill them with food-related words took a unique talent. If the girl sweet-talked a little more later, she might just be able to get the Tianxin Grass.

Shi Zhongling nodded in satisfaction—only for that same voice to continue by her ear: “I came up with two responses, but each has its flaws.”

Shi Zhongling looked up sharply.

“First is Ying chun hua, ying chun hua— ‘welcoming spring flower.’ Using flowers in response fits the theme of blooming mountain blossoms; Ying shan hong blooms in autumn, while spring and autumn contrast each other. Unfortunately, chun hua and shan hong have mismatched parts of speech—so that’s a weak spot.”

Ning Ning said smoothly, “Second is Yu mei ren, yu mei ren— ‘Poppy flower’ or ‘Yu the beauty.’ The word yu is a homophone for yu (to amuse), suggesting flowers delighting a beautiful person. It feels lively, but not as fitting as the first one.”

Shi Zhongling’s lips parted slightly, then she said slowly, “Well said.”

“Since senior enjoys couplets so much,” Ning Ning continued, “someone in my hometown once wrote a legendary upper line—said to be a perfect match with no good answer. Would you like to give it a try?”

Seeing the woman’s eyes light up, Ning Ning smiled.
“The upper line is: ‘The thief quietly steals something.’ (Xiao tou tou tou tou dong xi.)”

It sounded like a basic sentence, but was in fact a clever wordplay. The four tou characters carried three different meanings: “thief,” “quietly,” and “to steal.” Add in the repetition and the need for natural flow—and it became a daunting challenge.

In Ning Ning’s original world, generations had tried and only managed to offer rare responses like “Shi shu shu shu shu gu jin” (Historian writes of books through the ages).

As expected, upon hearing the line, Shi Zhongling’s expression turned serious. She furrowed her brows in deep thought.

But no matter how hard she pondered, no answer came to mind. After a long pause, she burst into laughter:
“Marvelous… simply marvelous! I thought my mastery of The Flower Pairings made me invincible in couplets, but I was far from it. Fine, today I admit defeat. The Tianxin Grass is yours.”

Ning Ning flushed at the praise and waved her hands quickly. “This couplet wasn’t mine—I couldn’t even come up with a reply myself. I just borrowed it from someone else, so I don’t deserve the win.”

Shi Zhongling remained calm. With a wave of her fingertip, the Tianxin Grass in the corner floated into the air and gently drifted into the little girl’s hands.

Feeling she didn’t quite deserve it, Ning Ning shared more famous couplets—like “Smoke locks willow by the pond,” or “Touring the West Lake with a tin pot; the pot falls in the lake; alas, the tin pot.” The female spirit listened in amazement, eyes wide as saucers:
“The gentlemen of your homeland are true sages!”

Ning Ning beamed, happier than if she’d been praised herself. “Of course! Everyone back home is super amazing!”

Content with the couplets, Shi Zhongling faded back into the boulder, vanishing without a trace. Ning Ning looked down at the glowing Tianxin Grass in her hands, unaware of the strange look on the girl beside her.

Yunduan Yue’s moonlit eyes dimmed slightly as she subconsciously clenched her skirt.

She had come to the Xiaozhong Mountain Secret Realm for one reason only: to obtain the Tianxin Grass. After asking every spirit beast in the area that understood speech, she’d finally made her way here.

But who would have thought the guardian would test her through a couplet challenge—her worst skill?
And even worse, someone else had beaten her to it.

It was her own lack of ability.

And yet…

The girl in the blue dress bit her lip, trying to steady her pounding heart. In a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, she began, “Miss, the Tianxin Grass—”

Before she could finish, a pale, glowing hand suddenly reached out toward her.

The thing being handed to her—crystal-clear, dewy, and glistening in the light—
was two leaves of Tianxin Grass.

Even Yun Duanyue, always expressionless, couldn’t help but have her pupils contract.

Was… she really handing over half of the Tianxin Grass?

To Yun Duanyue, this was simply impossible.

All the cultivators she knew would go to war over a single resource—fighting to the death, committing heinous acts, stealing others’ fortunes. Tianxin Grass was a priceless treasure, and yet, even though this was their first meeting, the sword cultivator in front of her…

…was giving it away without the slightest hesitation?

“I overheard your conversation with that senior,”
said the unfamiliar girl with sincere eyes. Her bright, black almond-shaped eyes shone like polished grapes, pure and untainted.
“I hope your family will be okay.”

So… it was because of that.

But even the stone spirit had said that excuse was so overused, she didn’t believe it anymore.
This girl looked smart—how could she not doubt it?

“I heard you don’t usually talk to strangers. If you’re speaking up just for this, it must be urgent.”

Sensing her confusion, Ning Ning grinned.
“Even if you’re lying, I’m not losing anything. I’ve already got the Tianxin Grass—just a couple of leaves are enough. But if I doubted you and it ended up costing your family’s life, that’d be the real tragedy.”

The Tianxin Grass in her hand moved closer.

Yun Duanyue fought the sudden sting in her eyes. Her fingertips trembled as she accepted the leaves, summoning every ounce of courage in her body to say softly:
“…Thank you.”

No one could possibly understand the torment she had endured.

Though hailed as a once-in-a-century music cultivator of Luming Mountain, Yun Duanyue’s childhood had been a mess.

She was the illegitimate daughter of a major clan, afflicted with a psychological illness that left her unable to speak to others. Her father ignored her, her mother saw her as a useless pawn. Only her grandmother treated her like a normal person—teaching her to read, play instruments, and do needlework.

Now that her grandmother had fallen gravely ill, the only cure was Tianxin Grass. She came to the secret realm full of hope—only for it to be crushed the moment she saw Ning Ning grasp it in her hands.

And yet now, two small leaves had landed gently in her palm.

It felt like a dream.

A hot rush surged to her eyes. Yun Duanyue lowered her head and took a steady breath.
“For saving a life, I will repay you with everything I have.”

Just as she was about to bow, Ning Ning quickly reached out and held her shoulders.
“No, no! Don’t do that—I’ll feel bad… I helped you, but it’s not because I wanted anything in return.”

Yun Duanyue lifted her gaze in a quick motion, her fluttering lashes like black butterflies in flight. Her eyes were slightly red, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. She didn’t reply, and silence settled over them.

But that peace didn’t last long.

It was suddenly shattered by a frustrated, shrieking teen voice:
“Give me back my sword!”

Followed by another voice, shouting even louder:
“You little devils! Taste my Armstrong Spiral Accelerating Jet Cannon! Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat-tat!”

That voice. That line.

So painfully familiar.

Ning Ning felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Sorry, I think I know those people… I’ll go check.”

She gave Yun Duanyue a quick explanation and stepped through the gap in the rock to the open space outside—only to be met with a pair of bloodshot eyes.

He Zhi Zhou’s hair was a wild mess. Holding two unsheathed longswords like guns, he was “firing” them in all directions. Behind him trailed a panting boy who Ning Ning vaguely remembered was from the Myriad Sword Sect—named Xu Ye.

Startled, she called out tentatively,
“…He Zhi Zhou?”

The beautiful-faced boy blinked, then suddenly grinned brightly:
“Second Battalion Commander, you’re here! Bring out my Italian cannon!”

Ning Ning:???

“He’s—he’s poisoned!”

Xu Ye stopped to catch his breath. “We got teleported into the jungle, and Senior He just grabbed a white mushroom under a tree and ate it. Then he suddenly started acting like this.”

After panting some more, he pointed angrily at He Zhi Zhou:
“Give me back my sword!”

“You’re pointing a gun at me?”

He Zhi Zhou ignored him, flashing a dangerous smile.
“I bet your gun has no bullets.”

Ning Ning stared blankly. “Y-You’re quoting Yan Shuangying now?”

“Exactly!”

He Zhi Zhou threw his arm out grandly, full of unshakable heroism:
“Li Yunlong! Charge with me! Tonight we wipe out these little devils and meet the Red Army at Jinggangshan!”

HELP!
This man was far too deep into the madness!

Before Ning Ning could say anything else, He Zhi Zhou scanned the area, then without warning leapt to the ground, belly-flopping flat—and immediately started crawling like a frog, using all four limbs.

Yes. Crawling.

Ning Ning couldn’t bear to look and shifted her eyes to Xu Ye instead.

Only to find that the once-serious young man had also hunched over, head down, hands flapping beside his ears. Every now and then he’d glance sideways at her—gasping for air with his mouth wide open and his eyes rolled all the way back.

Ning Ning’s sanity took a major hit. She asked cautiously, “…What are you two doing?”

Xu Ye looked at her like she was the crazy one.
“Duh, we’re swimming.”
Then with a disgusted look.
“You just sit there on the boat, huh? Watch out—there’s a big wave coming from that side!”

Where’s the giant wave? Where’s the boat?

So you’re poisoned too, brother?! Turns out both of you are out of your minds! Don’t tell me you’re the legendary land-swimming amphibians—this is terrifying!

On the other side, He Zhizhou continued doing a freestyle-breaststroke hybrid on the ground, occasionally turning his head to grin at her with a creepy smile, whispering.

“Let me tell you a secret—the Chairman told me that Optimus Prime and the Hulk have agreed to help us with the revolution. International comrades are the best! Once we swim across the Yalu River, the new China will be born!”

Each of them was muttering nonsense, flailing their limbs in different directions—the scene was downright bizarre.

Ningning would rather call this the cultivation version of a zombie outbreak—a new-age Train to Busan, or Resident Evil: Part X.

Just as she was frozen in confusion, a completely unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in, filled with naked aggression—it was clear the newcomer came with ill intent:

“I sensed spiritual energy spilling from your pouch, fellow cultivator. Could it be you’ve found the rumored Heart—”

He didn’t finish his sentence.

He froze stiffly in place, utterly stunned.

He’d followed the spiritual energy trail here, but it was only now that he finally saw the scene clearly.

Two sect disciples appeared to be possessed or completely deranged: one was crawling on the ground like a frog, the other resembled a blood-drained corpse, hands twitching above his head like some grotesque plant, staggering slowly toward him.

This was terrifying.

The young man flinched and instinctively stepped back.

He recognized the crawling one—he was wearing the Xuanxu Sword Sect uniform. If the rumors spread by Wan Jian Sect’s Xu Ye were true, people from this sect were all seriously unhinged. It was best to steer clear, or suffer the consequences.

And the one who looked like a zombie—

Dear heavens! That was Xu Ye!

Panic overtook him—raw, childish fear.

Could it be… the madness from the Xuanxu Sword Sect was contagious?!