Chapter 118

Qing Zhouxue tilted her head to look at her, slowly furrowing her brow, still silent.

They stood facing each other, and for a moment, all they could hear was the wind rustling through Heyi Peak.

Yun Shuchen's lips moved slightly as she continued, "Just now was—"

Her words came to an abrupt halt.

The setting sun leaked through the gap between them, casting a faint glow that, with one person's approach, fully closed; only an orange silhouette outlined their edges.

The glow remained motionless, silent.

Around them, the sea of clouds was a brilliant gold, rolling endlessly, swallowing mountains and rivers.

This kiss came abruptly, and left like a soft drifting cloud.

Why kiss so lightly?

As if she might float away at any moment. As if she wanted to let go but dared not.

Yun Shuchen tightened her embrace slightly, kissing back carefully.

Between their pressed lips, Yun Shuchen suddenly sensed a subtle shift in Qing'er's emotions—at first tentative, then gradually relaxing.

Qing Zhouxue parted from her, catching her breath softly.

"Just now, I stumbled," Yun Shuchen said, stroking the long hair that hung down her back. "I merely steadied you."

At Yun Shuchen's touch, the person before her leaned in again, burying her chin in her shoulder. She inhaled deeply, catching the scent of demonic qi once more, which made her quite uncomfortable.

Yun Shuchen saw her furrowed brow and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I... the smell gives me a headache; I feel unwell." Qing Zhouxue endured a wave of discomfort. That aura disrupted the spiritual energy around her, making her instinctively prepare for battle.

But she didn't want to let go of Yun Shuchen.

Not all cultivators were as sensitive as she was. Some couldn't even detect it.

Qing Zhouxue's reaction was clearly severe—perhaps the most sensitive Yun Shuchen had ever seen.

Yun Shuchen's expression darkened, and she sighed inwardly. She removed her outer robe, and with a loose grip, searing flames ignited from the drifting garment. Before it even touched the ground, it had completely turned to ashes.

Now, it seemed much better; Qing Zhouxue's breathing finally steadied. She looked at Yun Shuchen, her brow still furrowed. "It's not about status; I don't like her."

"In the future," Yun Shuchen said with a smile, "I'll stay far away. Alright?"

Qing Zhouxue nodded.

A moment later, she asked again, "Master, if one's status is high enough, can an Immortal Marriage involve many people?"

Yun Shuchen was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Qing Zhouxue looked into her eyes, her expression deep with meaning, as if thinking of something far in the future. "Will you be with anyone else?"

"..."

Yun Shuchen didn't answer that bizarre question; instead, she corrected first, "An Immortal Marriage can only have one."

"Last time, I heard Senior Sister say that the Wuyazong Sect Leader married eight, both men and women." Qing Zhouxue looked at her. "Senior Yue's latest novel also told of a young lady from a noble immortal family who pledged herself to her childhood sweetheart, then went to a sect to cultivate, where she fell in love with her gentle senior sister and adorable junior sister one after another. While vanquishing demons, she subdued several female spirits and gave them a home. When her sword spirit manifested, she talked with her every night, and finally, disregarding the mundane world's gaze, she married her own master."

Yun Shuchen's hand trembled slightly. Her disciple continued, "And then they all lived happily together."

"I never knew such a thing was possible. But thinking on it, Master, you always like to collect things in complete sets—"

"Stop." Yun Shuchen said, annoyed. "Living people can't be compared to inanimate objects. And why is Yue Changge showing you such things?"

"Naturally, they can't be compared."

Qing Zhouxue frowned. "But in terms of conduct and small preferences, one can always understand a person. You told me to pay attention. Master, didn't you say that?"

She had taught her these things, and now the words had come back to bite her.

After all these questions, Qing Zhouxue was unusually persistent today. Could she not realize she was jealous?

Yun Shuchen was momentarily speechless. She paused, then lifted her gaze. "That wasn't what I meant."

She took Qing Zhouxue's hand and felt her pulse, her brow knitting. "Look, it's broken."

"...Huh?"

"I've noticed you've been off these past few days," Yun Shuchen said, her tone suddenly turning cold. "It seems there are signs of illness. Is there some congestion here?"

Qing Zhouxue nodded.

Her fingertip pressed on Qing Zhouxue's heart, and she said flatly, "Add to that a bit of sourness, rising along this path. Moreover, your thoughts are unsettled; the scene you just witnessed keeps replaying in your mind, impossible to brush away."

"Am I right, hmm?"

Almost every point hit home.

Qing Zhouxue paused, then asked softly, "...Is there still a cure for me?"

The person before her looked like a celestial maiden descended from the heavens, yet she wore such a cold expression, seriously asking whether her jealousy could be cured.

Yun Shuchen very much wanted to laugh, but she held it in.

"Medicine and stones, I fear, are useless."

Yun Shuchen barely suppressed the curve of her lips. "But there is still hope. If you feel worse again, then do as you did just now."

Her gaze drifted down, fixing on Qing Zhouxue's still-rosy lower lip, then she subtly lifted her eyes away.

By the time they had kissed again, lost in a daze, the setting sun had slowly sunk.

In the tenderness of the evening breeze, Qing Zhouxue suddenly heard Yun Shuchen whisper softly against her lips, almost like a sigh, "...There will only ever be you."

"If I said anything, you'd believe it, wouldn't you?" she heard vaguely.

What was she still worrying about?

If it's your words, why wouldn't I believe them?

Qing Zhouxue thought, eyes closed.

As they walked back together, leaves rustling underfoot, Qing Zhouxue tilted her head and asked, "Master, just now, you simply wanted a kiss, didn't you?"

"When did you notice?" Yun Shuchen glanced at her.

Actually, it wasn't too late.

Because the moment she leaned in to "cure" her, the corner of her master's mouth lifting had been so subtle yet impossible to ignore.

But to say she had been tricked wasn't entirely true either. Qing Zhouxue lowered her head, touching her own lips, and for some reason, her heart indeed... indeed felt much lighter.

In the past, she had always been led by her master without understanding why, only realizing afterward.

Now, perhaps because she could read the subtle shifts in Yun Shuchen's expression clearly, she could almost immediately discern her intent.

After all these years, she had made some progress.

Except... the outcome was unchanged. Once, she had been trapped in a daze; now, she willingly stepped into her snare.

Back at the courtyard.

Fan Yin sat in a corner, head lowered, seemingly deep in thought. Then she lifted her gaze and glanced at the two of them.

After dinner, Yun Shuchen specially arranged for her to stay in a room farther from the two of them, so that Qing Zhouxue could sleep undisturbed.

Having just returned from a trip these past few days, while Yun Shuchen went to bathe, Qing Zhouxue sat by the table, sorting through things.

She placed the demonic cores one by one on the table, holding her breath to count—over twenty in all. A bountiful harvest.

She had heard that Demon Cores were quite precious, but she had never heard of demonic ones.

Perhaps they had some use, like for refining?

She went to the study to search for any records. During the six years Yun Shuchen had been in seclusion, Qing Zhouxue had developed a good habit: whenever she had a question, she would first come here to look; if not found, she would then ask someone.

Over the years, that latter step had rarely been needed. No matter how obscure the knowledge she sought, she could always find it here.

But oddly today, she came up empty.

And utterly so.

Her master's collection was always comprehensive, closely tied to her personal habits. She even collected complete sets of novels; if a missing volume couldn't be completed, she'd rather not buy or read at all.

The novels were kept behind one wall, while the rest of the space was densely packed with proper texts—cultivation manuals, histories of the mortal world, the demon realm, and the rise and fall of various sects, poetry, and all sorts of miscellaneous books—cookbooks, local records, famous anecdotes... Among them were even the medical books written by Senior Liu in recent years.

Qing Zhouxue searched from beginning to end; she could even find manuals teaching cats and dogs in the demon realm how to transform, but she couldn't find any dedicated works from the Demonic Race.

This puzzled her greatly. Could it be that no one among the Demonic Race wrote books? That seemed rather absurd.

For some reason, the image of that demonic woman from that day—her mask clattering to the ground, her eyes stunned and tinged with surprise as she looked at her master—suddenly crashed into Qing Zhouxue's mind.

At the time, she had thought the woman had mistaken her for someone else.

But when her master told her about the daughter of a sworn sister from the Demonic Race, she could be certain that Yun Shuchen knew people from the Demonic Race.

And their relationship wasn't bad.

Then why did her master deliberately not collect texts on demonic cultivation?

As she was pondering over a book, a soft knock came at the door. "It's so late; can't you read that book tomorrow?"

Yun Shuchen, draped in a light robe, walked into the study.

Seeing her disciple holding a book titled "Diary of a Fox Cub Becoming a Spirit," she couldn't help but smile. "What, tired of being human?"

Qing Zhouxue coughed lightly and stuffed it back into place. "I brought back many demonic cores, but I don't know how to use them, so I came to look here."

"Crushed, they can be used in medicine, though they might not be of much use to you. Better to sell them to Lingsu Peak while they're still fresh."

Yun Shuchen said lightly, her tone seemingly quite familiar with the Demonic Race.

She looked at Qing Zhouxue, tilting her head slightly, the strands of hair at her neck falling vividly, her expression soft. "Qingqing, aren't you coming to sleep?"

Qing Zhouxue only realized after a moment that she had called her by a reduplicated name, and she wasn't quite used to it yet. "This is..."

"A few days ago, you mentioned that when you were little, your elders at home called you Qing'er."

Yun Shuchen smiled, walking slowly toward her. "I wanted something different. I thought for days, and found this name rather to my liking. What, you don't like it?"

She drew closer and closer, and just as Qing Zhouxue's heart pounded like a drum and she instinctively closed her eyes—

Yun Shuchen didn't kiss her. Instead, her body leaned forward, almost boneless, pressing against her.

She rested her chin on her shoulder, reached behind her, and pulled out a book, flipping to a page with a folded corner—"Shishuo Xinyu? Huoni"—written by a man from the human world's Liu Song dynasty.

Yun Shuchen spread the book open, and by the dim lamplight, "You see, this line puts it well."

Qing Zhouxue opened her eyes, peering at the ink characters, but before she could make them out, her master's gentle voice read them word by word, quite melodious.

"Qin qing ai qing, shi yi qing qing; wo bu qing qing, shui dang qing qing?"

The meaning of this final line translates to:

I cherish you and love you, so I call you qingqing; if I don't call you qingqing, then who should?