Chapter 102

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Chapter 102: Flying Thousands of Miles

The next day, as the sun rose over the horizon, its rays streamed through the sandalwood window and scattered into the room. In the slanted light, a figure in blue clothes lay sprawled on the bed’s edge, fast asleep.

Ming He felt the warmth of the sunlight and slowly opened her eyes, her gaze still hazy from sleep. The first thing she did was check on Qin Chu Yi’s condition. However, as soon as she lifted her head, she froze in place.

On the bed, the pure white silk quilt was neatly folded at the foot, and the jade pillow lay perfectly smooth without a wrinkle. The space on the bed was clear, and there was no sign of Qin Chu Yi.

So where did Qin Chu Yi go?

A wave of panic surged in Ming He’s heart. Almost instinctively, she stood up and before she could step outside to check the courtyard, her trembling voice called out, “Senior Sister?”

She shouted Qin Chu Yi’s name, squinting her eyes. After a moment of silence with no response, she was about to rush out to see if she was in danger. Just then, she noticed a piece of paper on the table being lifted by the wind, gently drifting down to the ground.

From this elevated angle, she could faintly see some new words added to it, seemingly left by Qin Chu Yi.

Ming He stood dazed for a moment before stiffly walking over to pick up the paper. Indeed, there was an added line of Qin Chu Yi’s bold handwriting.

“Ming He Junior Sister, my family has urgent matters. I am returning, do not worry.”

Urgent matters at home.

Ming He stared at those few words, her gaze tightening, and after a long moment, she let out a sigh of relief. So that was it!

With her worries eased, she took a long breath, feeling a sense of bittersweet loss. Yet, she couldn’t quite pinpoint what felt wrong. She stood there for quite a while, staring blankly at the paper, her body rigid like a stone statue.

Time passed; the sun began to dip, and the moon climbed into the sky. Ming He watched as light shifted from the morning glow to the moonlight softly flooding the room. Slowly, she returned to her senses, ignoring the soreness in her legs from standing too long. She found a quiet room and entered, closing her eyes to begin her cultivation under the sparse moonlight.

With her cultivation at the eighth level of the Dust Dispersal stage, she had experienced several brushes with death that had sparked a potential breakthrough. Practicing and undergoing challenges were indeed different.

Ming He closed her eyes and activated the Star Technique, and visions of the desolation in the waterfall cave flooded her mind along with memories of her senior brothers and sisters’ bright hopeful eyes. Then, she saw Mu Qian rising with the bloody sword, feeling her own despair and helplessness during that life-and-death situation, and her earlier smallness when she watched her sword at her waist outside the secluded hollow.

Wind Master realm.

As she thought of those words, images of a long sword piercing through the clouds filled her mind, sharp-eyed like a hawk shredding the layers. In that instant, an infinite longing and desire emerged within her. Only by breaking through to the Wind Master realm could she gain the power to control her own life.

To ride the wind and wield the flying sword—that was her deepest aspiration since she began her cultivation journey at Liu Yun Sect, since her Qi Refinement days, since the very first day she arrived in this world.

And now, she no longer needed to long for it or wish for it, for the realm she dreamed of was now within reach.

Activating the Star Technique, Ming He summoned her spiritual energy. In an instant, a swirling vortex of energy formed. She sat in the thickening atmosphere, focusing her mind and breathing, resonating with the rhythm of the Great Path. The barrier of the ninth level of Dust Dispersal offered no resistance against the surging flow of her energy.

When she looked inward at her meridians, she saw her spiritual energy gathering like a flowing sea, and the air was filled with the rich, powerful essence of the Great Path. She knew that the true essence of the Wind Master realm contained the forces of nature itself, and now, she was capable of drawing upon that power.

“Boom!”

The Star Technique suddenly let out a loud rumble, resonating silently at Ming He’s heart, as the Star Power coursed freely through her body, carrying with it an ocean-like surge of spiritual energy that crashed heavily through her meridians. Under the washing presence of the Great Path, it became even more condensed and pure, transforming in an instant from an ocean into a lake.

Ming He frowned. She had intended to break through to the Wind Master realm all in one go. Originally, she had indeed been able to do so, but unexpectedly, the Star Lock now throbbed and wrapped around her spiritual energy at this crucial moment.

She knew the Star Lock was trying to help her consolidate her energy, making it stronger and even invincible within her current level. However, what she desired most at that moment was to break through to the Wind Master realm. She wanted to become stronger and no longer wished to hone her sharpness at the ninth level of Dust Dispersal. She did not want to wait.

Then she would not wait any longer; she would take the risk!

As her brows relaxed, there was a fierce determination in her expression. Once more, Ming He activated the Star Technique, directing her energy toward the Wind Master realm, her aura sharp enough to make the surrounding air whistle.

“Boom!”

The quiet room erupted with the roar of energy again. Ming He, dressed in blue, was illuminated by blood-red hues, her eyes sharp and filled with fierce resolve, ready to fight with all her strength. The Star Lock seemed disapproving of her actions, continuing to vibrate silently while refining her energy.

“Break for me!”

Ming He opened her eyes, a trace of madness and darkness glinting within them. As she spoke, her right hand formed the incantation, her knuckles whitening as she grasped with a bloody hand that still bore traces of blood from her earlier effort to wield the sword outside the secluded hollow.

Spiritual energy swirled violently, creating chaotic currents within the room. Ming He sat amidst the turbulence, directing her inner spiritual energy to repeatedly strike against the barrier of the Wind Master realm.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as exhaustion weighed heavily on her mind and spirit. Beneath the surface, a lingering unease and heaviness lingered, born from Qin Chu Yi’s sudden departure. A surge of frustration burned in her eyes, fueling a reckless determination to push forward.

Yet, cultivation was never governed by mere willpower. Her spiritual energy, after countless cycles, seemed to lose its edge, faltering against the formidable barrier of the Wind Master realm. The chaotic currents spiraled out of her control, surging wildly through her meridians.

“Pfft.”

Blood seeped once more from the cracked corners of Ming He’s lips, staining her blue robes with a damp, crimson patch.

The Star Lock trembled faintly, as if aware of its unintended harm to its master. It quivered again, preparing to stabilize the turbulent energy within Ming He. But then, it paused, sensing an ancient, profound aura. The Star Lock dimmed its glow and retreated, vanishing from sight.

In its place, a serene energy from the Great Path emerged. The black compass within Ming He’s storage ring stirred, flying out on its own and hovering in midair. It circled her once before settling above her head, casting a dark, soothing light that enveloped her.

The chaotic spiritual energy was instantly calmed by a gentle force, flowing obediently through her meridians and gathering into her spiritual ocean, where it settled into stillness.

Ming He opened her eyes and exhaled deeply. Ignoring her cultivation, which lingered at half a step into the Wind Master realm, she reached out to steady the floating black compass beside her. This Four-direction Compass, a gift from Qin Chu Yi, was a royal-grade treasure crafted by the Qin Clan. Had it come to her aid once again?

She retrieved a jade slip from her storage ring, her spirit delving into its contents. The familiar aura and Qin Chu Yi’s elegant handwriting stirred a sudden longing within her. The slip detailed the origins, uses, and incantations of the Four-direction Compass.

The “Book of Rites” states: The sovereign sacrifices to heaven and earth, and worships the four directions.

The Four-direction Compass symbolized an entire realm, capable of gathering treasures from the heavens, uncovering secrets, and harnessing the forces of nature. It offered profound protection to its master, a spiritual artifact rivaling even the Star Lock in significance.

If not for Qin Chu Yi, would her achievement of obtaining the Phoenix Fire Seed alone have been enough to earn the Four-direction Compass from the human race?

Ming He’s gaze flickered, the answer clear in her heart. She sighed, rose to her feet, wiped the blood from her lips, and stepped outside. The snow fell lightly in the Moonlight Courtyard, the vast white landscape now appearing less enchanting in her eyes.

Two months had passed, and Qin Chu Yi had yet to return. Would she only reappear when Ming He faced another life-and-death crisis?

Ming He bit her lip, her desire to see Qin Chu Yi stronger than ever. She longed to see her smile, to hold her hand, to gaze into her eyes brimming with warmth and affection. If possible, she even wished to kiss her.

The thought brought a faint blush to her ears, memories flooding back—the softness of their shared moments, Qin Chu Yi’s damp forehead, her flushed cheeks, her darkened skin, and the subtle hints of spring hidden beneath her white robes…

Who said she had to wait idly for Qin Chu Yi to return? Who decreed she could not seek her out herself?

A thought flashed through Ming He’s mind, and she seized it without hesitation. Her eyes sparkled with starlight, bright and resolute as the midday sun. She would go to the central region to find her!

The idea consumed her entirely, an impulsive urge that defied reason. In that moment, Ming He disregarded her half-step into the Wind Master realm, the vast distance between the Eastern Region and the central region, and even the location of the Qin Clan. All she knew was that she wanted to see Qin Chu Yi, and she wanted to do so as quickly as possible.

As the thought solidified, Ming He glanced around and realized she had already left Snowfall Peak without realizing it. Her body had acted before her mind could catch up, her emotions surging too powerfully for reason to restrain.

She cursed herself for realizing this too late but felt a flicker of relief that it was not too late to act.

The trees blurred past her like shadows as Ming He moved with Shadow Steps, swift as a hurricane. She raced out of the Floating Cloud Sect, pausing briefly to glance at the road ahead.

The idea had come so suddenly, leaving no time for deliberation. But now, as she looked back at the Floating Cloud Sect, she remembered her cultivation—only half a step into the Wind Master realm, unable to ride the wind. She also lacked the Chi Li sword, which could communicate with spirits. Would she have to traverse this vast distance on foot?

Frowning, Ming He’s eyes gleamed with determination, bright and sharp as she faced the sunlit horizon with youthful vigor.

How could she have forgotten? She had learned the Art of Sword Flight. Though she had relied on Qin Chu Yi’s guidance at the time, she was no longer the same Ming He at the seventh level of Dust Dispersal.

Though her attempt to break into the Wind Master realm had failed, the gap between half a step into the realm and full mastery was not insurmountable. She had already touched the forces of nature—why not try?

Even if she failed, she had the Star Lock, the Four-direction Compass, and the Heart-Protecting Mirror. With so many treasures to safeguard her, even a fall from great heights would not be fatal.

A radiant smile spread across Ming He’s face as she stood bathed in the morning sun, her spirit alight with determination. The Blue Sea Sword unsheathed itself, hovering in midair. Ming He stepped lightly onto the blade, forming hand seals to invoke the Art of Sword Flight Qin Chu Yi had taught her. The sword trembled as it rose unsteadily into the sky, the swirling clouds carrying the vast, roaring essence of the sea.

“Clang.”

The Blue Sea Sword rang out, teetering precariously amidst the mist. Ming He glanced down at the dizzying height below, her heart wavering for a moment before she steadied herself. Spiritual energy flowed through her body, infusing the sword as she recalled the time Qin Chu Yi had held her close, teaching her the Art of Sword Flight.

Even then, she had liked her, yet she had feigned indifference, using the guise of instruction to steal moments of closeness. Qin Chu Yi’s cunning was undeniable.

Ming He pouted and muttered under her breath as she steered her flying sword through the sky. In a moment of distraction, she failed to notice the sword almost plummeting, but a mysterious force from the heavens seemed to catch her, giving her the time to stabilize the sword.

After a few breaths, a white figure appeared where Ming He had stood moments before. Watching her unsteady flight on the sword, the figure’s lips curled into a smile, filled with unmistakable satisfaction and joy. “To dare to ride the sword at half a step into the Wind Master realm—such youthful audacity!”

“You must grow quickly,” the figure murmured, then vanished into the clouds.

…

At the blood-red cliff, within the broken palace.

“What are you doing here?” A hoarse voice, laced with a harsh edge, echoed through the hall.

A figure clad in black, masked and leaning casually against a black pillar, stood in the shadows. “I heard the deputy leader has found another capable assistant. Yóu Lìng is intrigued, so I came to see for myself.”

“This matter is none of your concern,” the voice replied, its tone suddenly laced with murderous intent. “Yóu Lìng, don’t let yourself fall into my hands.”

“And if I do?” Yóu Lìng scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re not even worthy to deal with me.”

“You…” The voice faltered, anger simmering but with no outlet, as the figure turned to address the newcomer entering the hall. “What’s the situation?”

“Deputy leader,” the newcomer, cloaked in crimson, knelt on one knee. Upon noticing Yóu Lìng, he hesitated before speaking respectfully, “Envoy.”

He then turned back to the deputy leader. “Reporting to the deputy leader, all the chosen talents you designated have perished, save for the true disciple from the Floating Cloud Sect, along with members from the Beast Master Sect, Mountain Sea Palace, and Longyin Workshop… totaling one hundred sixty-eight.

However, Ming He’s luck has been too strong; she always seems to have a powerful ally at her side. I could only injure her, but failed to take her life.”

“Useless!” The voice roared, and a hand struck through the screens, slamming into the kneeling young man and sending blood splattering across the floor. Yet, he dared not wipe it away, struggling to return to his respectful kneeling position, his voice low and heavy. “It is my failure.”

“Enough. You may leave. Return to the Black Wind Alliance’s main hall and await my orders,” the deputy leader said, his tone softening slightly, as if somewhat pleased with the young man’s demeanor.

“Yes,” the young man replied, exhaling softly as he rose to leave.

“Stop,” Yóu Lìng’s voice cut through the air, teasing yet probing.

The young man paused mid-step, a flicker of something dark crossing his eyes. He turned, calm once more, and knelt again, his tone as respectful as before. “What orders does the envoy have?”

“Mu Qian, raise your head,” Yóu Lìng commanded, her voice low as she approached him, observing the slight tremor in his body.

“Yes,” Mu Qian replied, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Behind the mask, her eyes gleamed like a bloodthirsty wolf’s—greedy and savage. Yet, his heart remained steady.

“Do you know? In this world, no existence can hide from its own eyes,” Yóu Lìng said, her smile faint. “I judge a person by their eyes. What do you think I see in yours?”

“Ambition, vanity, fear, and desolation,” Mu Qian answered slowly, a smirk forming as he met her gaze. Though kneeling, his posture was straight, exuding pride, sharpness, and depth.

“Perhaps,” Yóu Lìng said after a long pause, her smile mirroring his—cold and ironic. “Would you consider serving under me?”

“Envoy, my loyalty lies solely with the deputy leader,” Mu Qian replied without hesitation. He rose, nodded respectfully toward the figure behind the screens, and strode out of the palace, his back straight and unwavering.

“Yóu Lìng, this subordinate of mine is quite impressive,” the deputy leader remarked, his tone tinged with pride as he watched Mu Qian depart.

“Indeed, he is remarkable,” Yóu Lìng conceded. “But deputy leader, be cautious. One day, he may grow strong enough to turn against you.”

“Ha!” The deputy leader laughed, as if hearing the greatest joke. “Him? Impossible.”

“A mere human, lowly and base—how could he possess such courage or capability? Besides, a master shapes their disciple. I need not fear him,” the deputy leader added, his voice dismissive. “After all, his master was a fool.”

With that, the deputy leader’s figure dissolved like smoke, leaving the palace. He did not hear Yóu Lìng’s final words.

The figure in black, her black wolf mask glinting in the shadows, stood in the darkness, her voice low and menacing. “What a pity. I, too, am of the human race.”