Chapter 61

When the last sliver of the setting sun slipped behind the distant dunes, it was time to set off again.

They had rested through the midday heat and the slow afternoon, and now, with energy restored, their steps felt lighter.

Crossing the sand, wading through a narrow stream, and skirting a patch of grassland, they finally came upon a vast, dense forest.

This was the place.

The spiritual energy here was suddenly rich and thick. The group felt like fish gasping on dry land, finally swept back into the water by a wave. After days of barely sustaining themselves, the nearly depleted spiritual power in their dantians was finally nourished, filling them with a soothing relief that made them feel as light as if they might drift away on the wind.

"Once we're inside, we must stay alert," Lin Xunzhen said in a low voice. "Others have probably reached this point too. If they arrived before us, they might have set an ambush."

If that were the case, this dense forest would become a dangerous cage.

The air here under the trees was damp enough that ice could form. Qing Zhouxue picked up a well-shaped stone from the ground and used it as a core. Frost gradually spread over the stone, then extended outward in both directions, condensing into a simple ice sword.

She wasn't sure if it would hold, but at least she had a weapon in hand. She held it and carefully refined it for a while, quite satisfied with the result.

Over there, Ruan Mingzhu had ripped a tall, straight, tender sapling from the earth and now held a serviceable wooden staff.

"You know staff techniques?" Qing Zhouxue asked in surprise.

"Well, I can't say I've mastered any weapon, but I've tried them all," Ruan Mingzhu laughed. "When I was a kid, fights didn't follow rules—if I had a brick, I'd swing it, right?"

Bai Su closed her eyes and waited quietly for a moment, then suddenly said, "There are people in this forest."

As a healer, she was sensitive to the presence of other living beings. Lin Xunzhen nodded, confirming her earlier suspicion that someone had arrived before them.

In the secret realm, treasures were usually guarded by monsters. Those who went to seize a treasure first would be exhausted from the fight and would struggle to hold onto their prize. So being the first to strike was not the best option.

It was far better to be the oriole that caught the mantis.

Relying on her superior agility, Qing Zhouxue leaped up into the treetops and hid among the dense layers of leaves. From above, she had a better view and could scout the path. The others kept their steps light and quiet, following the map as they slowly pressed deeper into the forest.

Along the way, there were only the chirps of birds and the murmur of water—peaceful and silent.

Like an ordinary outing.

But the group didn't dare relax. They remained alert to every sound around them. Then, from the distance, came the sounds of fighting and shouting. Qing Zhouxue, steadying herself on a branch, listened for a moment, then supported herself against the trunk and descended. "It sounds like a group of people fighting a monster."

"They're heading this way."

They suppressed their auras and hid behind a rocky outcropping, listening as the noises grew louder, then louder still, until it became a clamorous racket.

Suddenly, a strand of silver silk drifted down from the sky, floating lazily to the ground. Ruan Mingzhu poked at the white congealed line with her wooden staff and found it sticky, quickly turning cold and hard in the cool breeze.

"What's this?"

Bai Su examined it closely, then her expression changed. "Don't touch it... Dreamweaver Spider silk. It's used in medicine. But it can sense a person's thoughts. If you come into contact with it, you'll be trapped in a phantom array until you break it. Otherwise, you'll die hanging on its web."

Another strand of silk drifted down from above.

Their breathing became soft and slow. The grass stirred, and the shouting voices had faded away at some point, leaving only a rustling sound of something scraping against the ground.

"...It's close now," Ruan Mingzhu whispered, gripping her staff tightly. Qing Zhouxue tensed as well, holding her sword at her side, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

The grass parted.

The group's eyes widened. A ball of white silk rolled out, still twisting and struggling, looking like prey wrapped in a cocoon.

"Help!"

The mass of silk continued to cry out indistinctly, sounding like one of their fellow sect members. Ruan Mingzhu recognized the voice—seemed to be a senior brother from the peak. She froze for a moment, then hurriedly used her staff to push the cocoon over, and with her foot braced against the layers of wrapped silk, tried to pull it apart.

But it wouldn't budge. The silk was like twisted vines, tightening around him layer by layer until it formed a hard shell, and there was no sound from within.

Dead? Ruan Mingzhu staggered back a few steps, then Qing Zhouxue grabbed her wrist. "Run!"

She snapped back to her senses and sprinted after Qing Zhouxue.

Behind them came a strange laugh, sinister and eerie, a voice that sounded both male and female, and utterly wicked. It was near and far, and they didn't dare look back. Lin Xunzhen spotted the mouth of the forest ahead, a patch of light, and her heart eased slightly. Once they reached open ground, they could fly with wind or sword and escape.

Lin Xunzhen pulled Bai Su along, forming hand seals, ready to launch into the air at any moment. Qing Zhouxue's ice sword circled around her, ready to carry them off.

The last ten zhang, seven zhang, three zhang...

She pulled Ruan Mingzhu onto the ice sword, soaring into the sky like an eagle finally spreading its wings from a cliff.

At that very moment—

A silver strand of silk, drifting unseen, wrapped ghostlike around their ankles.

Yanked by this invisible force, their bodies swayed and they tumbled from the sky.

Looking down—

A massive spider spread its eight sharp claws beneath them. Qing Zhouxue met the Dreamweaver Spider's eight rolling eyes as it opened its mouthparts and sprayed a torrent of white silk.

She didn't have time to close her eyes. A sharp pain seared them, and all she saw was white, unable to see anything else.

When Qing Zhouxue awoke again, she was lying on a soft bed.

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. She sensed a figure beside her, pressing softly against her.

She shoved the person away, but when she saw who it was, she froze. "Master? Why are you here?"

The woman reached out and gently massaged her shoulder, sighing, "You pushed me, and it hurts."

Qing Zhouxue felt a bit warm. Her master's hand lingered at her waist, and she shrank back slightly, saying, "That... tickles."

"It tickles because I haven't touched enough," Yun Shuchen smiled at her, her brows curving softly. Under the dim light, it carried a bewitching charm.

Qing Zhouxue had never seen her master smile at her like that. For a moment, she was dazed. As she lowered her eyes, the woman's red lips pressed against hers, trailing kisses down to her neck.

Qing Zhouxue still felt an unbearable itch, and then the world spun. She found herself pinned beneath her master, her robes slipping off her shoulder with a teasing slide.

She bore it silently, as if she had dreamed such dreams before, and her body responded in ways she didn't recognize.

"Qing'er," the woman coaxed softly, "call my name."

It was only when she stopped that Qing Zhouxue realized how much she yearned for her master's closeness—her kisses, her gaze.

But...

That was her master.

Not this impostor before her.

A blade of ice pierced through Yun Shuchen's heart. The shock on her face froze, her smile not yet faded. Qing Zhouxue withdrew the blade, pushed the body off the bed, and watched coldly as the illusion collapsed into a pool of blood, slowly dissolving away.

Qing Zhouxue's nature was such that once she confirmed something, she would not waver, making it easy for her to break through illusions.

But for others, it might not be so easy.

When Lin Xunzhen awoke, she was in her own home. The grand Lin mansion, with its noble lineage—her father had been a top scholar, later a court official, and her mother came from a distinguished family.

Here, as before, rules were strict, so heavy they made it hard to breathe.

She found herself back in an afternoon of her fourteenth year.

She was sitting in her room learning embroidery, stitch by stitch, a tedious task that frayed her nerves. Through the wall, she could hear girls playing and laughing, and an itch of curiosity stirred within her.

Seeing that no one was around, she slowly set down her needle and thread, walked to the wall, pressed her ear against the cold surface, and tried to catch what they were saying.

Just as she was rather entertained, a woman approached and scolded coldly, "What do you think you're doing?"

Lin Xunzhen looked up, quickly straightened, and instinctively took half a step back. "Mother..."

A ruler cracked across her palm. The young girl flinched in pain but didn't make a sound. The woman reprimanded, "You're getting engaged next year, and you still lack any sense of propriety! When you marry, you'll bring shame to the entire Lin family!"

The words were like searing hot stones, burning holes through her heart. After that, she could only see her mother's lips moving, endlessly scolding. With each word, her palm stung anew, until finally it was numb, and her chest felt a terrible cold.

Engaged?

...Why didn't she know?

Lin Xunzhen laughed bitterly in her heart. Yes, what difference did it make if she knew or not? Marriage wasn't something she could decide anyway.

Once the cold had seeped to the bone, somehow she found courage. She blocked the next strike of the ruler, and looking at the woman who had borne and raised her, she pleaded, "Daughter does not wish to marry."

The ruler paused, then with the woman's brows furrowed in fury, it struck her palm hard with a sharp crack. "Say that again."

"Daughter does not wish to marry." This time, her voice was louder.

Another harsh strike. Her hand curled in pain.

No. Looking at all the scenery before her, Lin Xunzhen suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu. How could she be fourteen? Wasn't she in the Taichu Sect?

She remembered suddenly: here, at the second strike, she had given up, swallowing all her grievances, and dazedly embroidered her own wedding gown.

It was only later that she had delayed matters until a few days before the wedding, when Elder Zhou happened to pass by the Lin mansion, paused to look at this place for a long while, and quietly sent her a message through sound transmission, telling her that her fate held an immortal connection. If she was willing, would she like to leave the mundane world and begin the path of cultivation with him?

Taichu Sect was a renowned immortal sect in this area.

When Lin Xunzhen saw the immortal's true body and recognized the token style of Taichu Sect, she clung to it like a last straw. She dared not say much, but concealed the engagement and, lifting her eyes, firmly told him, "My mortal ties are severed. I have nothing more to do with this household. Please, Immortal Master... accept me as your disciple."

With that kowtow, her life took a new path.

Now, looking at her stern mother before her, her head seemed involuntarily ready to bow submissively, down to the dust. She was used to being suppressed. Seeing her mother, she found it impossible to utter a word of refusal.

If she did it all over again, would it still be the same?

Out of nowhere, a rebellious impulse surged through her. She forced herself to stop that downward trend, raised her eyelids, and shouted loudly, "I won't marry!"

She no longer called herself "your daughter," but declared firmly an "I."

"All my life, I've written my brother's essays for him. In strategy, in literary talent, I am far his superior!"

"Why can he achieve glory and become a high official in the court? I, too, have aspirations! I can accomplish what he cannot! Why must I carry all my knowledge and just be a wife and mother, spending my whole life confined to the inner chambers, dying in obscurity?"

In the past, she had always followed the rules and had never spoken so loudly. The ruler trembled, and the woman's voice changed pitch. "—I should have known better than to let you read those books! Have you ruined your mind now?"

"Better a ruined mind than a dead one!" The fourteen-year-old Lin Xunzhen shoved past her, then with brute force pushed aside the two maids at the door, and even disregarding the pain, kicked open the main gate.

With her hair disheveled, she ran out like a madwoman. As a maiden of a noble house, she had never done anything so defiant. The ingrained propriety made her skin prickle with discomfort, and the pedestrians on the street had blurry faces, but they seemed to stare at her.

She ran in the direction of Taichu Sect. She could feel her heart pounding like a thunderous drum in her chest, her ears ringing painfully. The wind swept across her cheeks, smoothing back the stray strands of hair.

Gradually, the shameful, needle-pricking sensation of being watched by the crowd as she ran out faded, replaced by a thrilling sense of freedom.

She was exhausted, aching everywhere—her throat, her bruises from shoving people—but she dared not stop. Gasping for breath, she ran with all her might, facing the vast sky, the distant mountains and open waters.

There was no one left in this world to restrain her.