Chapter 965: with translation of chapter title

Qingque tilted the head back, ash‑gray long hair hanging behind, spreading over the dark‑red bark.

Looking at the interlaced branches overhead, the corner of the mouth slowly curved into an arc.

"Likewise."

The voice carried a lazy self‑mockery: "Everything's like that, surviving is the real oddity."

Jing Liu's sword slash could freeze a person's marrow with the frost that covered the whole street.

Qingque, a Diviner of the Tai Bu Si who had just become a demon‑shadow body a few days ago, had what to meet the Sword Leader's Full Power Strike.

Being able to endure that long was already enough foundation.

Moreover, being a demon‑shadow body herself, Jing Liu's slash actually cleared a hidden danger for Luofu.

"So light," Qingque said, the three words sounding very light, as light as a breath drifting out of the throat.

Qingque raised the hand and flexed the fingers a few times.

The fingers indeed felt lighter; the previous fatigue and pain vanished completely.

The body felt no discomfort, even more relaxed than when in Luofu.

The sprouting flower branches no longer throbbed faintly, quietly staying where they belonged, like ornaments that grew out of the body.

"So this is the afterlife world?"

Qingque murmured, sat the body up straight again, and began to observe the surroundings carefully.

Qingque had previously flipped through some strange tales in the Tai Bu Si library, which described various bizarre places people go after death.

Some said one would cross the River of the Underworld, some said one would enter the Six Realms of Rebirth, and others said one would become a star in the sky.

But the underworld described in those books was full of oppressive gloom, with ghosts wailing and wolves howling.

The place Qingque now dwelled in was, aside from a slightly reddish hue, rather quiet.

"Not quite what I expected."

Qingque drew a conclusion, then added, "But it's still okay, at least it's not crowded."

Qingque recalled the afterlife legends on Xianzhou, where roads were packed with ghosts and queues by the river stretched so long that heels never touched the ground.

Here, however, there was only Qingque, not even a single ghost maintaining order in sight.

Qingque looked around, scanning from left to right, then from right to left again.

Apart from the interlaced dark‑red trunks and the red mist rising from the abyss below, nothing else was seen.

Qingque, a bit bored, drew a circle on the nearby bark with a finger, then drew a cross.

While the finger was poking the bark, Qingque's gaze suddenly fixed.

Below!

A slanting lower position.

Behind a few interlaced branches and a thin layer of dark‑red mist, a figure stood there.

Qingque's eyes widened sharply.

Someone!

Qingque kept the finger pressed on the bark, motionless, the whole body frozen for a moment as if suddenly paused.

Qingque's mind began to race, while the heart thumped solidly in the chest several times.

There was actually another person here?

Qingque had just thought this afterlife was quiet and spacious, yet a glance down revealed someone.

Qingque slowly leaned the body forward, ash‑gray long hair slipping down the side of the shoulder, gently swaying in midair.

Squinting the teal eyes, Qingque strained to discern the silhouette through the thin red mist.

The person stood on a horizontal branch below, back turned to Qingque.

The distance was a bit far, and the mist interfered, so only a rough view: silvery‑white long hair, very long, hanging from the crown down past the back.

The attire was striking, primarily lake‑blue, the skirt wide, with a high side slit revealing a slender, fair leg.

The bottom of the skirt dragged out a large area, looking from afar like a huge Tail, or like a flag unfurled by the wind.

Qingque leaned the body forward a bit more, stopping just before sliding off the edge of the trunk.

Qingque stretched the neck, squinting, trying to discern more details from that back view.

Silvery hair, a skirt like a peacock Tail, and the faint patterns on the skirt.

Qingque couldn't see clearly.

Qingque wanted to get closer, but after looking at the crooked trunks below and the bottomless abyss, promptly abandoned the thought.

Leaping around here, a fall might truly prevent even becoming a ghost.

So Qingque changed strategy.

"Hey—"

Qingque shouted a cry toward below.

The voice traveled through the dark‑red space, blocked a few times by the interlaced trunks, bouncing back as echoes.

The echoes mixed with a rustling like wind through dry leaves, but when Qingque paused to listen carefully, nothing could be heard.

The silvery‑haired figure below did not move.

Still back turned, standing on that horizontal branch, the skirt swayed gently in the red mist.

Qingque waited a while, but got no reaction.

Qingque frowned, thought, then rephrased and shouted again.

"You over there! Miss! Can you hear me speak!"

This voice was much louder than before, and the hoarseness in the throat eased a bit.

Her voice echoed several times around, and the branches overhead rustled as a few pieces of dark‑red debris fell, landing on the hair and shoulders.

That figure still didn't look back.

But Qingque saw the other's head twitch slightly, tilting a tiny angle, as if listening.

A reaction!

Qingque's eyes flashed brightly.

Qingque began to look left and right along the trunk, searching for a path that could lead down.

The trunk was too thick; around it grew many finer branches, some curving upward, some hanging down, uneven in thickness yet appearing sturdy.

Qingque picked a slanting downward branch closest to herself, tested it with the tip of her foot, and the branch did not budge.

"Alright."

Qingque said, inhaling a deep breath as if encouraging herself.

Qingque readjusted the stance.

The hem of the outfit was longer on one side than the other, which actually made movement easier; Qingque first lifted the left side of the drape that was nearly dragging on the ground and slung it over her left shoulder, then Qingque bent down, pressed Qingque's palm against the branch ahead, used arm strength to swing the body downward, the legs tracing an arc in the air, and landed lightly on the slanting branch.

The branch was steady.

Qingque straightened up, glanced at the several branches below that could serve as footholds; the distance was a bit far, but not a big problem.

Qingque placed a hand near her mouth and shouted down, "I'm coming down to find you! Stay right there and don't move!"

Then, regardless of whether the other heard, Qingque arched the back like a gray‑white squirrel clinging to a branch, and began to leap downward among the dark‑red trunks.

Qingque's movements were swift; the high‑heeled short boots and long socks alternated stepping on the branches, each footfall quick and precise.

The floral vines within Qingque's body swayed gently with her motions, and the buds on the branches trembled repeatedly in the dark‑red air, like bells rattled by the wind.

Qingque hopped across several branches, then suddenly stopped, turned her head upward for a glance.

The large branch Qingque had just sat on still lay there, now about ten meters away from her.

The red mist above her head thickened, obscuring part of the path she had come.