Venerable Buddhist, Why Must You Insist on Saving Me?

[My next historical romance, “Captivated,” is about a man falling for his sister-in-law while keeping vigil for his brother. I wrote it for myself, so please be kind and add it to your reading lists!]

Ten years into the Fengshu era, the immortal sects were in decline.

The Demon Sect had already challenged nearly every major cultivation sect, with the exception of Changle Sect. It wasn’t because Changle Sect was especially powerful, but because Feng Changxue, the unpredictable ghost cultivator, was sealed in ice on the mountain behind it.

Neither the immortal nor the demon realms wanted another such wild card, but Feng Changxue still awoke.

At the immortal sects’ united invitation, they managed to bring Wangshi, the Buddha’s disciple from Dongjia Mountain, out of seclusion.

He counted his prayer beads and faced Feng Changxue day after day, as if he hoped a single wooden fish could awaken a Buddhist heart in her.

Feng Changxue, however, seemed to find it a most amusing joke.

“I cultivate the Way of Life and Death, and my heart is as demonic as a ghost’s. Buddhist master, you want to talk to me about compassion? They say the difference between Buddha and demon is a single thought. Why don’t we wager on who breaks their vows first, you or me?”

They tested one another for years, but neither came out on top.

She thought their cultivation and their convictions were evenly matched.

She could not bear the world; he would not touch the mortal realm.

Until news spread throughout the cultivation world that Wangshi was taking a celestial maiden as his cultivation partner.

Feng Changxue shattered the barrier and teleported to the peak of Dongjia Mountain in an instant. Wangshi was dressed in red, and the ever-cold corners of his eyes seemed to have taken on the warmth of the mortal world.

She looked down at the newlyweds beneath her and almost laughed aloud.

“What a perfect union of Buddhist and Daoist cultivation, yin and yang in balance. How interesting.”

“So the Buddhist master does have a place in his heart for the mortal world. Why deceive yourself by pretending to save me?”

Feng Changxue suddenly felt that winning the bet meant nothing at all.

The Way of Life and Death began with death and ended in rebirth. The more horrific the death, the greater one’s cultivation after being reborn.

So she chose the most horrific death: no remains, her soul scattered, and nothing left for a soul-calling ritual to find. She broke through three cultivation stages in succession and ascended to the divine realm.

A great deal happened during the ten years she feigned death and slept through the long night.

So much so that when she saw Wangshi again, she didn’t recognize him at first. How could this demon cultivator, in black armor, with black hair and a ruthless look, be the Buddha’s disciple from back then?

“Long time no see, Buddhist master.” Feng Changxue leaned against Wangshi’s cold breastplate and whispered by his ear, “You’re nothing but a diversion on my path of cultivation.”

[Reading Guide]

* My own take on cultivation. Don’t overanalyze it; the cultivation system doesn’t affect the plot.

* The heroine is fierce. She goes mad early on, and the hero goes mad later. They’re evenly matched.

* The plot-to-romance ratio is 6:4. The blurb doesn’t cover everything.

* No transmigration, no System, no quests. There is another completed, highly rated novel set in the same world, “Disrespecting the Gods.”

* Consistent writing, reliable updates. Please follow me and add my upcoming novels to your reading list.

Next novel: “Tormenting the Beloved (Uncle and Sister-in-Law)”

Rival suitors / Forbidden fruit is sweet / Star obsession / War widow

[Fragile little white flower × A sinister general entrusted with a child]

In the thirteenth year of the Chun era, Great Xia won a bloody battle outside Changting, but suffered heavy casualties.

The border general Jiang Zhi, clad in bloodied black armor, defied the imperial order and personally escorted his elder brother’s coffin back home.

He kept vigil for seven days.

Jiang Zhi sat alone in front of the coffin, drinking. His reputation as a bloodthirsty god of death and a fiendish general was so fearsome that not one maid in the residence dared serve him, and no one dared hurry him.

Deep in the night, someone arrived outside the mourning hall.

With her footsteps came the delicate fragrance of spring crabapple blossoms.

The young woman wore her hair loose. Her plain white mourning clothes could not hide her lovely features. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying as she called for her brother again and again in front of the mourning hall, like a crabapple petal that would crumble at the slightest touch.

In the imperial study, the emperor was delighted as he handed out rewards.

The Wei family had been loyal for generations, but their residence now had no men left.

In the former dynasty, that made them little more than meat on the chopping block.

Jiang Zhi’s narrow eyes curved as he stepped forward leisurely. “Your Majesty, I fell in love at first sight with Marshal Wei’s younger sister. If you grant us permission to marry, I will cherish her.”

The moment he finished speaking, the room fell silent.

After a long while, the eunuch glanced upward and gave a light cough. “General, you have been away from court for a long time. I’m afraid you don’t know that Marshal Wei has no younger sister. The young woman in the mourning hall... she is Marshal Wei’s betrothed.”

*

Later, people said Jiang Zhi had used the pretext of offering consolation to forcibly marry his widowed sister-in-law, disregarding all propriety. It was a pity that this youngest daughter of the Su family had been just one step away from enjoying the emperor’s favor.

But no one knew that on the night they first met, Su Wanli had been pinned beneath a crabapple tree.

She was the one who grabbed the departing man by the hem of his clothes.

*

Jiang Zhi was born under a blood moon, a fiend said to care nothing for life or death.

In public, he was a young general and a handsome god of death.

In private, he was cold-hearted and took pleasure in bloodshed, using his hands to break necks and crush lives.

Only when he held her close and touched her thin, trembling back did he realize that killing was not the only way to quell the violent urges that rose within him.

“Sister-in-law.”

Jiang Zhi lowered his eyes to the hand clutching his clothes, taking in her tearful, panicked expression.

His fingers slowly slipped beneath her skirt and caressed her trembling skin. He let out a soft, measured sigh. “After all these times, how have you still not learned?”

“When you beg, what should you use?”

Theme: It’s good to be alive.