Chapter 10

Qing Zhouxue's dantian was completely drained, yet she kept drawing on it without restraint, until it thinned to a membrane and strained to its limits.

Finally, it rebounded.

At the cliff top, Yun Shuchen silently counted the time. Then she felt the temperature around her drop sharply, and wisps of frost crept up from the cliff base, blooming in lazy patterns.

It was time.

Golden light spilled from her fingertips as she formed a complex hand seal and sliced open a line in the void. This was a common displacement formation: one anchor set at the cliff's base, and Qing Zhouxue, falling at speed, would pass through it and emerge directly from the formation above.

Qing Zhouxue hit the ground, rolled a few times, spat out a mouthful of blood, then immediately lost consciousness.

She lay limp on the ground, so still that one might think her dead. The wind had shredded her clothes into rags. Beneath her, a patch of grass and plants quickly frosted over with a thin layer of ice.

Yun Shuchen withdrew one hand and gently touched her cheek. It was ice-cold—colder than a corpse. Yet she could sense the heart within that icy body still beating with vigorous life.

A Single Ice Spiritual Root.

Extraordinary talent, exceedingly rare.

For reasons unknown, the Ice Spiritual Root had awakened late, but at the critical juncture between life and death, it had finally unleashed its full potential.

This was an unpolished jade hidden from the world.

She gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Qing Zhouxue's face and smiled faintly. Though the girl had likely been frightened, the outcome was indeed satisfying.

As expected, she hadn't misjudged her.

...

Qing Zhouxue ran a fever for half the night, remaining unconscious throughout.

She was not taken back to Heyi Peak but carried to Lingsu Peak to recuperate.

"Nothing serious. The blood is from a depleted dantian, and the fever is just a chill from being exposed to the wind so long," Elder Liu said. She couldn't even be bothered to write a prescription and simply handed the matter to Bai Su, her senior disciple who stood nearby.

"A single Ice Spiritual Root, isn't it?" Liu Xunqin blew out a ring of white smoke, propping her chin with one hand while slowly twirling her pipe. "...And still leaking ice."

Qing Zhouxue lay with her eyes tightly shut, another thin layer of frost forming on the bed beneath her.

Yun Shuchen extinguished the flame used to boil tea and glanced briefly at the girl on the bed. "This only proves her spiritual root is not weak—it is inherently powerful. She simply doesn't yet know how to control it."

A slender, pale hand lifted the teapot and poured a full cup, drawing an extremely fine stream of tea that stopped precisely at the brim.

Yun Shuchen said, "Like water in a cup—when too full, it overflows."

News that Qing Zhouxue had frozen half of Yimeng Cliff naturally couldn't be kept from the Sect Leader. He found time to come personally to Lingsu Peak.

As soon as he entered, he saw the child lying pale and bloodless on the bed.

The Sect Leader looked at her a few times, clutched his sleeve, and sighed. "Your methods are rather drastic."

"That's nothing," Liu Xunqin said indifferently. "I've only known her a few days, and she's already come to my place twice. If this continues, this poor child will end up living on Lingsu Peak."

"The results are good," Yun Shuchen said, taking a small sip of tea. "That's enough. I know my limits."

The Sect Leader smiled. "Junior Sister rarely takes such an interest in someone. Are you thinking of taking a disciple?"

"This child has a single spiritual root—most suited for the sword cultivation path. Junior Sister's mastery of exotic formations is exceptional, but unfortunately, she does not inherit that talent."

What the Sect Leader said was plain truth. As an old sword cultivator himself, he was quite tempted. In a hundred years, he had never seen such talent.

Formations required the harmonization of the five elements; missing even one would cause imbalance.

Cultivation with a single spiritual root was extremely easy, but it was nearly impossible to achieve anything in that field.

Yun Shuchen tapped lightly on the table and looked up at him, a smile curving on her lips. "I've heard of an ancestral rule—the top disciple in the inner sect competition has the honor of choosing one of the peak elders as their master."

"She can go wherever she wishes. How could I interfere?"

His junior sister's words always sidestepped the issue with such cunning. After a moment, he savored her meaning, realized something was off, and let out a helpless laugh. "The competition hasn't even started yet. Are you already appointing her the winner?"

Yun Shuchen clicked her tongue. "What's the difference? Even if she were the one being chosen, the moment the elders saw her single spiritual root, they'd all fight over her, and without a clear decision, wouldn't her opinion still be the one that mattered?"

"You'd better hope she wins first place. If the elders start bickering in the main hall, it would be an embarrassment for a bunch of old men."

"...That is reasonable," the Sect Leader mused.

A stir came from the bed as Qing Zhouxue shifted her leg. She kept her eyes shut, mumbling indistinctly, "Water..."

Bai Su, standing nearby, poured her a cup of tea, lifted her up slightly, and carefully fed her. Only then did Qing Zhouxue's furrowed brow ease a little. She slowly opened her eyes, felt around beneath her, touched something cold, and quickly pulled back her hand.

Liu Xunqin extended a hand and waved it before her eyes, but Qing Zhouxue showed no reaction.

"Temporary blindness after a high-altitude fall is quite normal."

"Her self-healing ability is far above average. Wait a few more days and she'll recover."

Blind?

Qing Zhouxue looked ahead. There was still a trace of light, but overall it was too dim and blurry. She vaguely sensed a figure approaching her, enveloped in a familiar faint fragrance.

The unease from not being able to see settled at that moment.

A woman's gentle voice sounded by her ear. "Since you're awake, and Elder Liu says there's no danger, come back to the peak with me."

Qing Zhouxue's voice was hoarse as she answered, "Okay."

She spoke little, but she was extremely obedient and understanding, never crying or making a fuss no matter what happened.

The Sect Leader looked at the child's silent and fragile appearance, and his old motherly heart was instantly gripped by a pang of sympathy.

He sighed, thinking that this girl would most likely stay on Heyi Peak.

So he turned to Yun Shuchen and said, "It doesn't matter who she takes as her master—she will be a disciple of the Taichu Sect regardless. In the future, if she wants to learn swordsmanship, just send her to the Sword Pavilion. I will treat her as my own direct disciple and teach her everything I know."

"There are still some sect matters to attend to, so I'll be going now." The Sect Leader sighed again and departed with a flick of his sleeve.

Qing Zhouxue didn't know how many people were in the room. She grabbed hold of Yun Shuchen's sleeve corner. She heard Yun Shuchen exchange a few words with Liu Xunqin, then felt her body lighten as she was suddenly lifted up.

"You're really cold. Try to retract your spiritual energy a bit?"

Qing Zhouxue calmed her mind and focused until the temperature of her hand rose slightly and returned to normal. A moment later, she realized Yun Shuchen was carrying her and seemed to be walking.

"I'm heavy. I can walk by myself," she said softly.

She was fourteen now, no longer small, and by no means light. Elder Yun, with her delicate frame and willowy waist, seemed too frail to lift her.

"Just a few minor tricks; it's not strenuous." A gentle breeze swirled around her, supporting her body, allowing Yun Shuchen to hold her with ease by the crook of her legs and her waist.

Hearing that her voice was indeed relaxed, Qing Zhouxue felt a bit reassured. She rested her head loosely against Yun Shuchen's shoulder, and with her sight gone, her sense of smell and hearing sharpened.

There was that faint, lasting fragrance at the tip of her nose—like the wind flowing through a valley, blowing open blossoms from tree to tree.

Since there was little difference now between open and closed eyes, Qing Zhouxue sank into the tender, gentle aroma, feeling drowsy, as if she might fall asleep.

Only when her back touched the bed board did she startle awake.

Now, at last, she was lying down firmly.

"Elder Yun, can I cultivate from now on?"

She seemed to have sensed a strange condition in her dantian, though she wasn't yet certain what it was. But since she hadn't been thrown off the mountain, she guessed she had succeeded.

Yun Shuchen took her hand and chuckled softly. "Yes, you've succeeded. But you suffered quite a bit. Do you resent me?"

"I chose this path myself. I have no regrets and no reason to resent anyone." She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Good child." Yun Shuchen stood up. The room felt a little stuffy, so she opened the window a crack. "Are you cold?"

No answer came. The girl had tilted her head and fallen into a deep sleep.

Yun Shuchen was silent for a moment before closing the window to prevent her from catching another chill. She turned back, and for the first time, her gaze rested unabashed with appreciation on the girl's still youthful face.

What she valued was not just that proud natural talent, nor simply the unyielding resolve shown in enduring torment.

What truly impressed Yun Shuchen was that day at the top of Yimeng Cliff—when sunlight had just lit the slanted half of the peak—the girl, wrapped in thin white robes, braving the whistling mountain wind, appeared right on time. Though her body trembled reflexively, her eyes were clear and bright; having made her choice, she showed not a hint of regret.

Cultivation was not an easy pastime for the idle rich. It demanded that one constantly possess the courage to seek survival from the brink of death; only then can one walk paths others cannot, only then can one go far.

Even the poorest aptitude might be compensated by rare treasures and elixirs—not entirely hopeless. But that courage and determination were born into the blood—some people had it, others simply did not. That was the difference between a carp and a true dragon.

Clearly, she had not disappointed her.

...

Qing Zhouxue spent the next few days fumbling in the darkness.

During these days, Elder Yun was unusually gentle, as if she were in a good mood. Sympathetic to Qing's temporary blindness, she took care of everything meticulously—even going so far as to patiently place boned fish in her bowl during meals.

Qing Zhouxue felt somewhat overwhelmed by such favor.

In the past, Yun Shuchen had never been this close to her; she had always maintained a gentle but distant demeanor, sometimes teasing her when in the mood, and leaving without a word when not.

Her eye injury healed well. After three days, she could make out the outlines of objects; on the fourth day, colors began to return to the world; and within a week, she had fully recovered.

During that week, Qing Zhouxue did not attend outer sect lessons. Once fully recovered, she habitually thought of returning, but Yun Shuchen said she would be better served by focusing on practical combat, spending time adapting to her spiritual root, and setting aside theoretical studies for the moment.

Now that her spiritual root had awakened, she could absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. What had once slipped through her fingers now had a place to be stored.

The five volumes of *A Tentative Discourse on the Five Elements*, studied in the outer sect, only covered metal, wood, water, fire, and earth in detail. But those with an Ice Spiritual Root were unheard of, and Qing Zhouxue had yet to find any records on how to cultivate it.

She had no choice but to try reading the third volume of the series—the one that described "water"—again.

Ice came from water; there must be commonalities. And Qing Zhouxue naturally discovered that her control over water was far more adept than over the other four elements.

Occasionally, Yun Shuchen would offer guidance. "Water vapor naturally exists in the air. Try to sense it, lower the temperature, condense it into ice—it can serve you."

Qing Zhouxue frowned, pondering over a dewdrop hanging on a tip of grass. The drop gradually became sluggish, but she still couldn't control it finely, and in an instant, she froze the entire leaf into an ice sculpture.

"There is no need to be so tense."

Those evenly pale and slender hands swept through the air a few times—swift and light, like a swallow's wings dipping into the water.

The unruly currents might surge through great rivers, yet this thin stream drawn from the air was played with effortlessly in her palm.

A few rays of light refracted into scattered gold, shimmering and reflecting across her profile, as if by divine miracle.

Qing Zhouxue watched her move with such ease, as natural as breathing, carrying an innate beauty.

It was hard to look away.