Chapter 109

She had heard that sharing wounds could bring people closer. She didn't know if it worked that way elsewhere, but that's how it always went in the storybooks.

But those were just storybooks, after all.

She never expected Qing'er to rub so hard. Each press made Yun Shuchen want to flinch away, and she found herself leaning back further and further, one hand braced on her disciple's shoulder.

"The medicine has to be rubbed in to work."

Perhaps because this part of her waist rarely saw the light, her skin was startlingly pale, making the bruise look even worse.

Qing Zhouxue looked down, pain in her heart, and couldn't help but soften her touch. She paused, letting the warmth seep into the spot, then withdrew her hand, still fragrant with the salve.

The ointment was no ordinary remedy—it was made from a blood-activating spiritual herb from Lingsu Peak. With a slow, steady massage, the medicine took effect, and the bruise faded by more than half.

Yun Shuchen let out a slow breath, all her earlier fancies gone. She could only think, with a hint of resentment, that her disciple had finally let go—finally, finally stopped. One more moment, and she might have slapped the girl's hand away.

The light here was bright and clear. Yun Shuchen gathered her robes and, with a flick of her fingertip, the cycle of day and night shifted. The red sun sank in the west, and a starry sky like a river of silver rose in its place.

"Are we going back tonight?"

What, were they supposed to stand out here all night, or sleep with the ground as a bed and the sky as a blanket?

Yun Shuchen seemed to read her puzzlement and smiled, as if she had an evening breeze in her eyes. She raised her wrist lightly, and a dwelling much like the one on Heyi Peak materialized out of thin air behind her.

"Don't worry. This is a small world carved from my spiritual power. Everything here moves according to my will."

Qing Zhouxue was startled, instinctively reaching out to touch the house. The surface felt real and finely textured.

"Don't touch, Qing'er," Yun Shuchen said. "It's real. It won't collapse."

"But if Qing'er thinks it's too small..." She studied it a moment, as if still dissatisfied, and tapped her fingertip. The courtyard vanished in an instant.

Dust swirled. When Qing Zhouxue could see clearly again, she took a small step back.

Before her, auspicious clouds coiled, and what sounded like cranes cried out. Two massive pillars, each like a needle that could steady the sea, stood left and right, flanking a flight of white jade steps. Looking up along those steps, she saw a magnificent celestial palace.

"What about this one?"

Qing Zhouxue examined it carefully. "Master, there are only two of us."

"Hm," Yun Shuchen mused. "Indeed, no need for something this grand."

She raised her hand again, lazily changing it to yet another design. Among a grove of bamboo, a simple thatched cottage peeked out, set against green mountains and clear waters, with birdsong in the air—a retreat fit for a reclusive sage.

This one was just right for two; any more would be cramped. But Yun Shuchen suddenly grew dissatisfied. "Still too small."

She kept changing it, never quite satisfied, until finally she returned to the first version. Taking Qing Zhouxue by the hand, she walked inside.

As Qing Zhouxue stepped over the threshold, flowers burst into bloom across the courtyard in a shower of petals. They were not loud or garish, but soft and elegant—white, light blue—yet when they circled the courtyard, they were quite lovely to behold.

"If you ever find yourself somewhere uncomfortable to stay, just come here. You can adjust the time inside to match the outside world."

Qing Zhouxue had never had high demands when it came to food and lodging. Really, the only requirement she had was already lying by her side.

"I've gotten used to sleeping with you, Master. When suddenly no one was beside me, I couldn't fall asleep at all." She turned onto her side, careful to avoid Yun Shuchen's bruise, and loosely took hold of her master's sleeve, resting her head against Yun Shuchen's shoulder.

"Then what did you do? Cultivate all night?" Yun Shuchen said. "Cultivating is good too. Actually, lying together to sleep is... a bit of a waste of time for cultivators."

"But when we're together, don't we cultivate faster?" She clearly didn't agree.

That was true enough, but Yun Shuchen felt that after nights of indulgence, she ought to practice some restraint for a while. She didn't answer, simply saying, "Sleep early."

Not long after, there came a rustling sound of turning over.

Then, a moment later, she turned back. In the past, her disciple had always been quiet in sleep. Why tonight was she showing signs of insomnia?

Yun Shuchen, affected by the tossing and turning, could not sleep either. She opened her eyes and said, "Is there a thorn in your bed board?"

"Master, I've gotten used to our nightly dual cultivation," Qing Zhouxue said. She hesitated, looking at Yun Shuchen with some difficulty, as if she had something to say.

Under Yun Shuchen's startled gaze, Qing Zhouxue sighed. She lifted the hem of her own robe slightly. "Now that I'm lying next to you, I feel... all warm and wet down there."

Through night after night of rise and fall, her body had learned instinct. The faint moonlight, the lack of any barrier between them—it always brought back memories of so many nights.

Yun Shuchen's hand trembled. She took several steadying breaths, then, after a moment of silence, drew the girl into her arms. "If you can't sleep, let's talk for a while. It just so happens I haven't seen you all day today."

"Mm." As expected, Qing Zhouxue's attention was diverted. She closed her eyes and asked casually, "The Demonic Race... what do they look like?"

"What do you think they look like?"

"I saw in those cultivation biographies that they all have blue faces and fangs, three heads and six arms. Very exaggerated."

Yun Shuchen let out a barely audible laugh. "The Demon Realm has many tribes, and they have little to do with each other. The ones you described as looking so fearsome live mostly in the north—they are descendants of the Asuras."

"People say the face mirrors the heart. Are all these descendants evil?" She heard her disciple yawn softly.

"The Demon Realm and the immortal sects have never gotten along. If you treat them all as enemies, that's fine too."

After a pause, Yun Shuchen added, "In the west, where earthly fire gathers, there is another great tribe that worships the Goddess Wa. They are all female, with beautiful appearances. If you meet them, don't be fooled by their looks and trust them too easily."

"Mm." Qing Zhouxue kept her eyes closed, unconvinced. "Can they be prettier than you, Master?"

Yun Shuchen could tell from her disciple's absent tone that she was sleepy. She could not resist pressing the girl down into the blanket, sighing inwardly. "Enough. Sleep."

For the next few days at Lingxu Sect, they kept to this pattern—apart during the day, but every night, if Yun Shuchen had no duties, she would come to this pocket dimension to sleep beside her disciple.

During those days, the Demonic Race made no move. The sect was calm and uneventful. The disciples who had come from afar, after several nights on their guard, began to let their vigilance slip out of sheer exhaustion, their courage gradually swelling.

The moon had climbed to the middle of the sky.

Qing Zhouxue, halfway through meditation, saw the moonlight slipping out the window and prepared to get out of bed. She calculated the time—her master should be arriving soon.

From outside the door came the sound of several people walking, boots crunching over the snow. Someone yawned. "Elder Brother, we've been keeping watch for nights now, and we haven't seen a single trace of those demons. I told you—those seniors from other sects came with a big force, and they're not stupid. They all scared the demons away."

Another youth said, "The Demonic Race is cunning. How do you know? Better safe than sorry."

Qing Zhouxue had planned to wait until the two were gone before opening the door. She listened to their voices fade, and then suddenly, in the distance, she sensed a violent wind rising.

Beiyuan Mountain was prone to strong winds, especially at night.

Qing Zhouxue opened the door a crack, and suddenly heard a scream that seemed to tear open the night—but it was quickly swallowed by the gale.

Enemy attack?

The Qingshuang Sword let out a resonant ring, as if ready to leap from its sheath.

Even Bai Su, who had been meditating off to the side, sensed something was wrong. She opened her eyes, frowned, and lowered her voice. "They're here?"

Clearly, something had happened. Outside, chaos broke out. When they stepped out, several disciples had already gathered in a ragged circle. Peering into the ring, they saw only two desiccated corpses, twisted grotesquely on the ground. The bodies wore the robes of Lingxu Sect disciples.

On the uneven, snow-covered ground, blood had been used to paint a design. The warm blood melted a layer of snow, then seeped down and froze into a fresh red layer of shattered ice.

Qing Zhouxue looked at the ground. Under the pale moonlight, a six-petaled blood-red lotus bloomed in silence.

Eerie and seductive.

All the lanterns in Lingxu Sect lit up at once, and the world burst into noise, bright as day.

She saw sounds coming from the main hall—Yue Shishu, along with several unfamiliar elders, were heading their way. But when she looked closely, Yun Shuchen was nowhere to be seen. The disciples around her were clearly frightened, some silent, others whispering nervously. Bai Su took a small step back, her hand gripping Qing Zhouxue's arm tightly.

Qing Zhouxue scanned the area, frowning.

Why was her master the only one missing?

---

At the summit of Beiyuan Mountain, the long wind blew unimpeded, tossing Yun Shuchen's dark hair behind her.

Her wrist lifted slightly. Around it were wrapped several threads of transparent water, their other ends stretching far into the distance, as if tethered to something. Like reins held in her hand, they pulled her through the clouds at breakneck speed.

Yun Shuchen's expression was calm, as if she were riding the wind for pleasure. But the other end, having failed to shake her off several times, was clearly enraged. A dark silhouette moved, and a dense aura of blood and killing intent slammed into her chest.

A curtain of water spread out, reflecting the attack back with perfect force.

The shadow dodged to the side, but another thread of water followed like a shadow, catching its other wrist. With a tug, it was bound fast.

An angry female voice came. "Who?"

No one answered. In the gale, several more silver threads shot out, easily piercing through several vital points on her body. A thin mist of blood sprayed into the wind and quickly dispersed, vanishing without a trace.

The prey, drained of strength, fell rapidly. Yun Shuchen descended with it. The black-clad figure tumbled across the ground, somewhat disheveled, its black veil falling away to reveal a woman's striking face, with a beautiful lotus pattern in the center of her forehead.

She tried several times to rise, but her limbs had lost all strength. She glared coldly at Yun Shuchen. "You're not from Lingxu Sect, are you? Could you be the reinforcements that little broken-down immortal sect brought in?"

Yun Shuchen gathered the threads, flicked her fingers, and turned them all into mist that dissipated. She studied the demoness for a moment, then nodded. "If I'm not mistaken, you should be calling me an elder."

A smile curved her lips. "Well, if it isn't my... niece."