Chapter 66

Chapter 66: Title

The speaker was Mu Rongyan. He looked determined as he said again, “I’ll help you save Qingshang.”

Qiu Huayi clearly didn’t believe him. “Senior Brother… is that true?” Not long ago, Mu Rongyan had wanted to kill Ye Qingshang and had schemed hard; now he overturned all that and claimed he wanted to save her. Who would trust that?

Mu Rongyan had expected her disbelief. He sighed, “This formation blocked all spiritual power. Instead of wasting time here, let me handle it. I knew Master’s spells far better than you.”

He flicked his fingertips, and the silver ropes binding him fell off, showing his skill as Ning Jiwei’s top disciple. “You don’t have to trust me; Qingshang was my fellow disciple. If not for Master’s orders…”

Without Ning Jiwei’s command, he never would have hurt her given their bond. Thinking this, Mu Rongyan shook his head regretfully. “Enough talk. I can help you. Whether Qingshang survives depends on her fate.”

Then, Mu Rongyan created a short blade with spiritual power and cut his palm. Drops of blood rose and merged into a complex pattern. His spiritual power surged, and the pattern spread.

Under its force, Ning Jiwei’s formation cracked open a small gap. Mu Rongyan seized the chance and called, “Dragon’s Roar, carry them away!”

The Dragon’s Roar sword obeyed, growing larger and taking Ye Qingshang and the others out of Frostbite Sect. As they barely escaped the formation, Qiu Huayi glanced back.

Mu Rongyan stood there, his robe fluttering, his striking face pale in the glow of his spiritual power. No trace of gentleness remained in his brow. He stayed fixed, not retreating or leaving Ning Jiwei, his gaze steady but brow furrowed as if filled with regret.

But… who was he regretting for?

Qiu Huayi, usually sharp, couldn’t grasp the scene at all.

It was all a blur.

Ye Qingshang, badly hurt and exhausted, forced herself awake briefly. When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in the main hall or even Frostbite Sect. Confused, she tugged Mu Huaiyun’s sleeve silently, asking: Where are we?

Mu Huaiyun held her tighter, saying gently, “We’re in Fengyuan City. Huayi contacted Qiao Zhu; she’ll arrive soon. Qingshang, hold on; the pain will ease soon.”

“Really…” Ye Qingshang managed a faint smile, but her head grew heavier. Maybe from blood loss, weakness took over, and she felt no pain.

Everything faded to darkness; she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Just before deep sleep, she heard a muffled call.

“Qingshang…” That voice felt familiar—who was it?

“Qingshang, don’t sleep!” Mu Huaiyun called desperately, but Ye Qingshang had passed out. Even with Heart Vein Power sustaining her, it couldn’t hold her consciousness now.

Luckily, Qiao Zhu got the message and used teleportation repeatedly. She reached Fengyuan City just as Ye Qingshang’s awareness faded.

“Young Master!” Qiao Zhu rushed to the bedside. She checked Ye Qingshang’s chest wound and probed inside with spiritual power, frowning silently.

Qiu Huayi, anxious nearby, asked, “How is she?”

Qiao Zhu sighed and shook her head. “A cultivator’s inner core grows in the heart, linked to the heart vein. Sister Ye’s core was ripped out by force with spiritual power, destroying her heart vein. Now it’s fully severed; I fear…”

She left the rest unsaid. Mu Huaiyun stifled chest pain, face pale. “The South Ridge Ghost Orchid you have—can it fix her heart vein?”

Mentioning it pained Qiao Zhu more. “The South Ridge Ghost Orchid is rare for mending heart veins, but it’s too harsh. Without an inner core, using it would kill her instantly—it’s useless.”

“Then… what if we give her a new core?” Mu Huaiyun asked frantically, clearly desperate enough to suggest such a wild idea.

Qiao Zhu refused firmly, “Young Master, you’re mad! Not only is core replacement forbidden in the cultivation world, but compatibility between cultivators’ cores is extremely low. Success is nearly impossible. Besides, Sister Ye is now a grandmaster. What grandmaster would carve out their core for her? That’s trading one life for another!”

As she spoke, a thought struck her, bringing a flicker of hope to her eyes. “Wait—there might be another way.”

Though potent, the South Ridge Ghost Orchid thrives in extreme cold. Once every century, a rare few mature orchids sprout companion seedlings. These symbiotic shoots grow intertwined with the parent plant, mutually suppressing its harsh properties. This paired growth is called the Twin Ghost Orchid.

“The Twin Ghost Orchid has milder effects yet repairs heart meridians ten times better than its counterpart. If we find it in the frozen wastes, Sister Ye could be saved.”

“But…” Qiao Zhu hesitated. “South Ridge Ghost Orchids are scarce, and Twin Orchids are rarer still. Sister Ye’s condition is critical—she may not last… Please take her to Yunshan Sect. Have your master help sustain her heart meridian until I return.”

Mu Huaiyun asked mournfully, “How long will you take?”

Qiao Zhu lowered her gaze with a sigh. “A month at best… half a year at worst.”

“What?!” Mu Huaiyun recoiled as if scalded. “In Qingshang’s state, surviving ten days is already—” He cut himself off, frowning into silence.

Qiao Zhu understood his fears, but this was their only hope. “I’ll search relentlessly for the Twin Orchid. But until then, Young Master—you must keep her alive. However long it takes.”

“I’ll join you.” Qiu Huayi spoke as Qiao Zhu turned to leave. Helping Qiao Zhu return swiftly felt better than helplessly watching Ye Qingshang suffer.

Qiao Zhu met her eyes. “Agreed.”

For a month, Ye Qingshang drifted in delirium, rarely conscious. Through the haze, a familiar voice called to her—low, steady, and achingly known.

The voice spoke of Frostbite Sect’s Master Ning: his ascension foiled by a heavenly trial, his mind broken. Enraged gods had unleashed the Divine Destruction Calamity, obliterating his body, casting him into rebirth. His sins echoed across the cultivation world, phantom condemnations circling the skies for ten unending days.

The voice whispered too of Master Ning’s chief disciple, vanished without trace when the Calamity struck…

Daily the voice spoke her name. Daily she fought to wake. Her eyelids felt like stone slabs; only after immense struggle did they flutter open. Harsh light flooded her vision—then a gentle hand shielded her eyes.

She stirred weakly. Sensing it, the hand withdrew. Blinking, she tilted her head toward the figure. Her mind, dulled by long sleep, momentarily blanked. Then recognition dawned. A dreamlike smile touched her lips. “Ah Yun.”

Ye Qingshang’s fleeting confusion didn’t escape Mu Huaiyun, but he pretended otherwise. Helping her sit up, he smoothed her hair as he’d done countless times before. “You’re awake.”

His usual tone almost tricked her into believing months hadn’t passed—until she remembered Qiao Zhu still searching the frozen wastes. Remembered she was dying.

When she stayed silent, Mu Huaiyun caressed her temple. “What troubles you?”

“Hmm?” Her thoughts refocused. Mu Huaiyun’s question sparked a memory: their wedding, barely ten days away. Could she last that long…?

“Ah Yun.” Her gaze cleared with rare intensity. “Move our wedding forward. Marry me tomorrow.”

She wanted this selfish thing—to claim him before death. To brand him hers forever. Let all know Mu Huaiyun belonged to Ye Qingshang, in life or beyond.

Joy flashed across Mu Huaiyun’s face, then faded into concern. “But Qingshang, your health—”

“I know.” She cut him off, voice faltering. “But I don’t care. I won’t survive until Qiao Zhu returns. I can’t die with this regret…”

“Call me selfish. I still want your name tied to mine. I want—”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. Mu Huaiyun pulled her close, silencing her. “Done,” he murmured.

Their wedding was set for the next day.

An inauspicious date, yet immortal sects came in droves—elders, sect leaders, disciples—filling Yunshan Sect’s halls.

Red silk draped every surface. The groom carried his bride over the threshold, bowed to heaven and earth, then to their elders. Candlelight set their robes ablaze.

Guests whispered. None had seen a bride carried throughout the ceremony. Their murmurs died when Mu Huaiyun’s sharp glance swept the room. He carried Ye Qingshang straight to the bridal chamber.

Inside, a luminous pearl cast soft light over crimson hangings. Yet…

Mu Huaiyun carefully placed her on the bed and lifted her veil. Beneath the covering, a pair of bright and hopeful eyes met him, yet the weariness no makeup could conceal pierced his heart sharply.

“Qingshang.” He feigned calmness while holding her hand, smiling gently. “No, I should call you my wife now.”

“Hmm.” Ye Qingshang’s eyes curved slightly. Though she seemed pleased, the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She mustered all her strength to suppress the metallic taste rising in her throat, whispering, “Husband.”

Mu Huaiyun’s hands trembled, his expression obscured as if veiled in mist. Ye Qingshang strained to lean closer, brows furrowing.

Mu Huaiyun’s fingertips brushed her forehead, his voice thick with tears. “Wife, have you heard of a custom?”

Ye Qingshang forced herself to focus. “Hmm? What custom?”

Tears fell onto her eyelids, warm as blood on the Three Lives Stone, heavy with regret. “They say… if you frown on your wedding day, droughts and floods will plague the coming year. Peace will vanish…”

“Can our marriage truly sway natural disasters? Then I must be a femme fatale…” Ye Qingshang’s lips curved faintly, as though hearing a jest. Her voice faded gradually.

She was utterly exhausted. Though she knew she mustn’t sleep, resistance proved futile.

Consciousness blurred…

Her fingers slipped slowly from Mu Huaiyun’s grasp. Panic seized him, his heart hollowing instantly as he clutched her hand reflexively. He held Ye Qingshang’s shoulders desperately, tears streaming down his face.

“Qingshang…” The cry was heartrending.

Just then, the wedding chamber door creaked open. Faint light outlined a figure clutching a South Ridge Ghost Orchid, its silver-white root sprouting a young shoot. She rushed forward, eyes blazing.

“Sister Ye, I’m back.”

–The End–