Chapter 87

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Chapter 87: The Mysterious Ancient Palace

The dark currents continued to swirl silently, carrying Ming He and Qin Chu Yi to an unknown destination.

Ming He was only slightly less injured than Qin Chu Yi, leaving her too weak to break free. Acting purely on instinct, she wrapped her arms around Qin Chu Yi and let the dark currents carry them through the Deep Sea.

When Qin Chu Yi needed to breathe, Ming He would lean closer to share a breath with her, then lift her gaze to scan for hidden rocks amidst the turbulent currents, ensuring they wouldn’t crash and meet a disastrous end.

For Ming He, the act of their lips meeting was merely a means of survival; in a life-and-death moment, nothing mattered more than staying alive. Besides, both she and Qin Chu Yi shared the same womanhood, so she paid it no mind.

Through the shimmering waves, her vision blurred, and she failed to notice the faint blush spreading across Qin Chu Yi’s pale face or the thunderous rhythm of her heartbeat in her embrace.

The dark currents raged on, and Ming He lost track of how long they had been drifting. At one point, Qin Chu Yi’s eyes fluttered shut, but Ming He quickly roused her.

The path ahead was uncertain, and Ming He couldn’t bear the thought of Qin Chu Yi slipping into unconsciousness.

In that moment, they had only each other.

The Deep Sea was devoid of sunlight, leaving only dimness and suffocating silence. Ming He floated in the darkness for what felt like an eternity until she finally glimpsed a faint glimmer of starlight in the distance—a beacon of hope and life.

The Star Lock at her chest trembled faintly, parting the waves around them. As they drifted closer to the starlight, Ming He felt an inexplicable pulling force, urging her toward the unknown depths.

She didn’t know what dangers lay in those depths, but if they continued to drift aimlessly in the dark currents, they would surely perish together.

Ming He had no intention of dying. Determination and defiance flickered in her eyes as she decided to take one more gamble.

Her expression hardened with resolve as she tightened her hold on Qin Chu Yi, surrendering to the pulling force that carried them away from the currents and deeper into the sea.

In her dazed state, she seemed to glimpse the vast, majestic expanse of the East Sea.

Suddenly, the scenery shifted. Her eyes focused on a shimmering water curtain, beyond which stood a screen of intricately arranged seabed stones. Behind the screen lay another world.

A world nestled in the Deep Sea yet existing apart from its waters.

Ming He was drawn by the invisible force into the grand hall behind the screen, where her feet landed on solid ground, no different from the surface above the East Sea.

The hall was a sight to behold—golden and resplendent, with soaring eaves adorned with carved dragons. Glazed tiles shimmered in the depths, and towering black pillars framed the open doors of agarwood. It was an ancient palace, exuding solemnity and grandeur.

A bright red plaque above the entrance bore two large, elegantly carved characters. Ming He glanced at them briefly but paid no mind, her focus entirely on Qin Chu Yi’s condition.

She found a relatively clean and warm spot to lay Qin Chu Yi down, sensing the faint trace of spiritual energy in the otherwise empty hall.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ming He walked over to close the hall door, then returned to cradle Qin Chu Yi in her arms. She swallowed a pill herself and gently placed another in Qin Chu Yi’s mouth.

“Senior Sister Qin?” Ming He whispered softly, her voice barely audible. Seeing Qin Chu Yi’s eyes flutter open with difficulty, she felt a wave of relief. She continued to channel Star Power into her, watching as the color slowly returned to her pale face.

“Senior Sister, forgive my intrusion,” Ming He murmured, her gaze lowering. Suddenly, a sharp tearing sound echoed through the silent hall.

Qin Chu Yi’s heart skipped a beat as a chill swept over her. She looked down to see her blood-colored clothing torn open by Ming He, her blood-stained skin now exposed to the air—and to Ming He’s gaze.

A rosy hue spread across her cheeks, and her heartbeat quickened, steady and strong, clearing the fog from her mind.

“Senior Sister, your wounds are severe,” Ming He muttered, her voice trembling. She laid Qin Chu Yi across her lap and began carefully peeling away the blood-soaked fabric stuck to her back.

Qin Chu Yi’s injuries were extensive, but most were superficial wounds from battle—inevitable for a cultivator. Painful, yes, but not soul-crushing.

Except for the final strike from Mo She.

The black whip, crafted from the skin of a soaring snake, was no ordinary weapon. And Mo She, driven by fury, had unleashed the full power of a Demon Race with soaring snake bloodline, a force beyond the Wind Master realm. That strike was meant for Qin Chu Yi.

Ming He’s eyes burned with fury as she took in the sight. Qin Chu Yi’s skin, once flawless as jade, was now marred by deep, jagged whip marks. The wounds, mingling with older knife and sword wounds, formed a horrifying tapestry that left Ming He’s heart aching.

She experienced the sensation of heartache for the first time in her life. Almost instinctively, Ming He carefully picked at the barbs on the wound, leaned down, and gently blew over it, as if to soothe, her voice tender, “Does it hurt?”

Qin Chu Yi was momentarily stunned, feeling the warmth of Ming He’s touch like a flame that spread from her spine to her heart and then to her face. In an instant, she felt a shiver run through the uninjured skin near her wound, causing her body to tremble slightly. “It’s nothing,” she murmured softly, her voice trembling uncontrollably, laced with a sweetness that felt unlike her usual self. She no longer felt like the Qin Chu Yi she knew.

Fortunately, she was facing away from Ming He.

Qin Chu Yi thought this as she gazed blankly at the distant jade wall, faintly illuminated by starlight.

After removing the barbs, Ming He began searching her storage ring for spiritual medicine. The whip wound on Qin Chu Yi’s back was severe, and ordinary pills would be useless, but she had more than just common remedies.

Back in Dongfeng City, during the second round of the Small Dragon and Tiger Rankings in the Tian Cang Secret Realm, she had gathered many heavenly materials and earthly treasures near a waterfall. These would surely aid Qin Chu Yi’s recovery.

As she thought this, Ming He crushed the Nine-Colored Lotus in her hand and sprinkled it evenly over Qin Chu Yi’s wound, showing no hesitation in using such a precious resource. As long as it could save Qin Chu Yi, she would spare nothing.

If she couldn’t save Qin Chu Yi, then to her, these treasures were no better than roadside weeds—unworthy of their celestial names.

After a while, Ming He finished tending to the wound on Qin Chu Yi’s back, wiped the sweat from her brow, and carefully turned Qin Chu Yi over, avoiding her injured back and letting her lean partially against herself. Then she looked into the woman’s deep, enigmatic eyes.

“Senior Sister, what… what’s wrong?” Ming He stammered, instinctively withdrawing her right hand as she met Qin Chu Yi’s unreadable gaze. She had intended to help with the wounds on her front.

But now, she realized it might not be appropriate.

“What are you doing?” Qin Chu Yi’s voice was still weak and faint, but there was a hint of shyness and confusion that Ming He hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m treating your wounds,” Ming He said softly, feeling a little lost. Then she noticed Qin Chu Yi furrow her brow and cough lightly. Blood was still seeping through the white robes at her chest, a sign that her injuries were far from healed.

If left untreated, she could still be in life danger.

Ming He’s heart tightened. She couldn’t just stand by and watch Qin Chu Yi suffer. In her current state, Qin Chu Yi couldn’t tend to her own wounds.

“Senior Sister, we must act quickly. Besides, we’re both women—there’s nothing to worry about,” Ming He said, thinking Qin Chu Yi was simply too proud to show her vulnerability. She offered a gentle reassurance, then closed her eyes and, in a swift motion, opened Qin Chu Yi’s outer robe and deep garment.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with a sight far worse than the whip wound—knife and sword wounds crisscrossed Qin Chu Yi’s body, no less gruesome. These were injuries Qin Chu Yi had sustained while protecting her.

Emotions surged in Ming He’s eyes. Without hesitation, she tore away the last layer of bloodied fabric with trembling hands, carefully removing the barbs and debris, then scattered the remaining Nine-Colored Lotus over the wounds.

When she finished, Ming He let out a breath and noticed Qin Chu Yi still had her head down, acting strangely. “Senior Sister, I’ve treated your wounds,” she explained.

But Qin Chu Yi remained silent, her head still lowered. Concerned, Ming He gently cupped her face with her left hand, wanting to ask if she was in pain. Instead, she was met with Qin Chu Yi’s face, glowing red like a flame.

The once-pale and desolate beauty now radiated a stunning brilliance, like the fiery clouds at sunset or the vibrant hues of dawn. In that moment, Qin Chu Yi’s beauty captivated Ming He in a way she had never experienced before.

Beyond the shyness, there was an undeniable, enchanting allure.

Ming He was momentarily stunned. She hadn’t thought much about treating Qin Chu Yi’s wounds, but now, the way Qin Chu Yi reacted… it felt as though something intimate had truly transpired.

For a moment, Ming He was speechless, her heart stirred by an inexplicable warmth as she met Qin Chu Yi’s gaze. An unspoken passion seemed to bloom between them.

“My clothes…” Qin Chu Yi murmured, lowering her gaze, her phoenix eyes flickering with uncertainty.

“Oh… oh,” Ming He said, as if waking from a dream. She stiffly retrieved a clean set of blue clothes from her storage ring and draped them over Qin Chu Yi, her movements still gentle and careful, as they always were with her.

Seeing this, Qin Chu Yi’s eyes softened, and she felt something stirring within her heart. She was certain now—her deepest thoughts in that life-and-death moment had been true. She had fallen for Ming He, in the way one longs for a Dao partner, to hold hands and walk through life together.

She wanted to kiss her, to be close to her.

But would Ming He feel the same?

She glanced at Ming He, who was still holding her, unsure of what to say.

Even though the Sword Cultivator in Blue now sat with her blue clothes stained crimson, cradling Qin Chu Yi in a half-embrace, her posture remained as steadfast as a pine tree, just as it had been when they first met.

Qin Chu Yi couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory of the young girl in blue timidly addressing her as "Young Master." “Ming He,” she called gently.

“How are your injuries?” Qin Chu Yi asked, her voice tender. Since they had entered the grand hall, Ming He had been tending to her wounds, but what about her own?

A pang of concern stirred within her.

“Senior Sister, I’m fine,” Ming He replied, her voice warm. “After entering the hall, I took a pill, and besides…”

She glanced around, her eyes filled with curiosity. “I feel a strange force within this hall… it’s as if it’s aiding me.”

Ming He frowned, struggling to find the right words. “In the undercurrents of the Deep Sea, that force guided me here. Once inside, it seemed to be healing my wounds. By now, I’m almost fully recovered.

What’s more, I sense that the Star Lock is quietly operating, resonating with something far away. This has never happened before.”

“The Star Lock?”

Qin Chu Yi’s brow furrowed as well. She lifted her gaze, scanning the vast, empty hall. There were no furnishings, only the endless expanse of the Deep Sea and the towering structure surrounding them.

The sound of waves crashing against rocks echoed faintly, yet the hall remained untouched by the seawater, unaffected by the crushing pressure of the depths.

So close, yet so distant—like two worlds existing side by side, separated by an invisible boundary.

“Is there a plaque at the top of the hall?” Qin Chu Yi asked, her eyes narrowing in focus. It was customary in the cultivation world for refiners to craft a plaque corresponding to the hall’s purpose.

“Yes,” Ming He nodded. “Before entering, I caught a glimpse of it. There were two large characters engraved on it, but I couldn’t make them out.”

She lowered her gaze, frustration flickering across her face. Despite having read countless books in the libraries of the Liu Yun Sect and the Floating Cloud Sect—studying diligently to avoid the ignorance of someone like the Dragon Hero—she still found herself at a loss.

Ming He’s brow furrowed slightly at the thought of the Dragon Hero, as if she had overlooked something important, but the memory eluded her.

“It’s alright,” Qin Chu Yi said, her voice soothing. “You’re not from a noble family, yet you’ve reached such heights. That alone speaks to your extraordinary talent.” Her keen insight allowed her to read Ming He’s thoughts effortlessly. “If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can always ask me.”

She flashed a radiant smile, so dazzling it seemed to light up the room. “Write those two characters for me. Let me see.”

“Oh.” Ming He was momentarily dazzled by her smile, staring blankly until she noticed the warmth and amusement sparkling in Qin Chu Yi’s eyes. Flustered, she lowered her head and brushed the dust from the ground, using her finger to trace the characters she had seen.

“Huh?” She paused abruptly, her expression puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” Qin Chu Yi asked, tilting her head.

“I… I can’t remember how to write them,” Ming He admitted, her frown deepening. “I saw them clearly before, and I can vaguely recall them, but I just can’t seem to write them down.”

The realization that she was, in fact, illiterate in this context left her feeling disheartened.

“You can’t remember?” Qin Chu Yi’s expression shifted subtly, as if a thought had occurred to her. She reached out, gently brushing Ming He’s soft black hair. “If it’s what I suspect, it has nothing to do with your memory.”

Her smile was soft, a gentle radiance that seemed to glow with starlight, a side of her Ming He had never seen before. “Carry me over to see it.”

Qin Chu Yi draped her left arm over Ming He’s shoulder, her right arm encircling her neck, settling comfortably into her embrace. Her garments draped loosely, half-concealing her figure, yet her beauty remained utterly captivating.