Chapter 12
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Chapter 12: Title
“Why return the Hanyu Stone after taking it?” Suiyin twirled the faintly glowing blue stone.
Xia Shi met her gaze squarely. “I believed you’d… ceased needing it. Since you survived, returning it was proper.”
“Oh?” Suiyin closed the distance until their noses nearly touched, peering into ink-dark eyes. “Thought me dead? Even buried me somewhere?”
Xia Shi flinched back. “Yes.”
“Chose my grave. Changed my clothes. Returned the stone when I revived.” Suiyin advanced until Xia Shi’s palm halted her. “Such kindness?”
Xia Shi’s icy stare dropped to the mere handspan between them. “Do you always converse this… intimately?”
Deadly proximity for cultivators.
“Unsure.” Suiyin’s pale eyes held unblinking confusion. “We’ve never met, yet your gaze brings heartache. Have we crossed paths before?”
Xia Shi studied the girl’s features—youthful sharpness veiled by deceptive smiles. No recognition sparked across centuries of memory.
“No.” The answer extinguished fleeting hope in Suiyin’s eyes.
“Fine. My error.” Suiyin retreated two steps, head tilted. “Declining Hanyu Stone and red jade both? Then what of—ah yes, those materials from him.”
Halfway through her words, Suiyin suddenly remembered that the person who rescued Song Chen at Linglong Pavilion had given Xia Shi some materials.
"Those materials weren’t as good as these two. Were you really willing to part with them?" Suiyin took out the red jade again, placing the blood-red stone beside the Hanyu Stone, tempting her.
A sword cultivator who treasured their weapon above all else couldn’t bear seeing their sword damaged. With both rare repair materials laid out, who could resist?
Xia Shi bit her lip and looked down at the stones in Suiyin’s palm.
"Only we two are here. I won’t tell if you take them."
Suiyin’s low voice carried a hypnotic pull, making Xia Shi’s ears ring with those words. The internal struggle finally crumbled.
Xia Shi’s hand lifted.
Suiyin’s eyes curved slightly, a cold gleam flashing as the slender fingers reached out.
Humans never escape greed—
"…!"
When her cheek hit the cold wall, Suiyin was still planning how to teach this person manners.
Her wrists got pinned together by bony fingers, an elbow digging into her neck. Suiyin found herself crushed against the stone surface.
"Release me!" She struggled uselessly.
Xia Shi pushed harder, forcing Suiyin lower. "What did you use on me?"
Legs buckling painfully, Suiyin spat out: "Dream Butterfly Powder!"
The hallucinogen indeed disturbed minds.
Xia Shi didn’t relent. "Your goal?"
"You buried me alive! My revenge’s fair!" Suiyin writhed angrily. "You’re cruel! Ease up!"
Perhaps guilt stirred, for Xia Shi finally released her, extending a palm.
Rubbing sore wrists, Suiyin glared. "What now?"
"Hand over the powder. Sword cultivators fight with blades, not tricks." Xia Shi glanced at Broken Stream hanging at Suiyin’s waist. "Your weapon’s that sword."
"I’ve none!" Suiyin retorted stubbornly.
Why heed this stranger’s lecturing?
"You do." Xia Shi pointed. "That blade suits you. Repair its chipped tip with the red jade—"
"Not mine!" Suiyin cut in sharply, eyes blazing. "I’ll reclaim my own sword. Till then, I accept no substitute."
Such fierce sincerity made Xia Shi’s grip tighten around her own sword hilt.
They walked the long street silently. Lu Ciyou’s group had vanished. Pastry smells hung thick, stirring hunger.
Suiyin sniffed eagerly, licking lips as she swallowed.
A loud stomach growl broke the quiet.
"One who crossed the barrier between life and death still craves food?"
Cultivators aren’t immortal. Through cultivation, they merge flesh with Nine Realms’ spiritual energy. Each realm breakthrough reshapes the body – Foundation Establishment purges impurities, Golden Core reforges bones, passing the life-death barrier frees them from earthly sustenance.
Xia Shi had not tasted the five flavors for Four Hundred Years, and her interest in such earthly desires had long faded. Seeing Suiyin’s entranced, craving look, she couldn’t help feeling puzzled.
"Ah—what a pity. Everything at the Lantern Festival is illusionary. Even if you eat it, there’s no real substance," Suiyin sighed, her enthusiasm deflating.
"Jiang Xinian and Liu Sheng seem to enjoy it. There must be some taste to it," Xia Shi remarked. "Why not try?"
Suiyin suddenly shook her head and laughed. Tilting her head, she examined the woman walking beside her from head to toe.
Xia Shi: "…What?"
"I have a question." Suiyin’s laughter lingered.
Xia Shi: "Yes?"
Suiyin: "How old are you?"
Xia Shi: "…"
When no answer came, Suiyin pressed, "You look about Lu Ciyou’s age—early twenties. But you speak like an elder. Are you some high-level cultivator in disguise?"
Xia Shi: "…"
"Really?" Suiyin batted her eyes.
"…No." The number caught in Xia Shi’s throat. Keeping her gaze forward, she stated flatly, "Twenty-six. Twenty-seven next month."
That had been her age during tribulation. Four Hundred Years had since slipped by unnoticed.
Xia Shi released a light sigh, countless memories surfacing.
"Why sigh?" Suiyin patted her shoulder, leaving her hand there. "Your age is perfect! A cultivator’s twenties are like dawn’s first light. Who knows whose radiance will illuminate the Nine Realms tomorrow?"
Xia Shi studied her—not truly seeing her, but rather the ghost of her younger self in the girl’s features.
The resemblance struck deep. Youth’s fervor always burned this brightly.
"Here. For you."
Xia Shi glanced down, azure glimmer flashing through her eyes.
Nestled in the girl’s palm lay the Hanyu Stone hairpin, identical to how Xia Shi had last returned it.
Twilight shadows couldn’t dim the determination in Suiyin’s gaze as she offered her hard-won treasure with open sincerity.
Xia Shi hesitated. "Why give me this?"
She’d received countless precious gifts before—even her Tai Chi Seal came from another’s hand. But those were transactions between equals. She and Suiyin shared only fleeting secret realm kinship, unlikely to meet again. She possessed nothing to reciprocate.
"I want to." When Xia Shi didn’t move to accept, Suiyin added, "Though not entirely selfless."
"What do you want?"
"Take me somewhere after we leave here."
"Where?"
"I’ll say when we escape."
"Agreed."
They remained frozen in position. Suiyin blinked rapidly, eyes darting between Xia Shi and her own still-outstretched hand.
Take it.
Xia Shi hid her empty hand behind her back, her sleeves empty and free, “We’ll talk once we arrive.”
“Fine.” Suiyin said no more, plucking the wooden stick from her hair and replacing it with an ornate jade pin.
Though merely swapping a hairpiece, it lent her an air of refined grace.
“It suits you,” Xia Shi remarked.
Suiyin tilted her chin up without humility. “Naturally. Even Aunt Yan once praised my looks.”
She then frowned, plucking at her faded robe. “But this robe’s ghastly. Plain white holds no passion.”
Xia Shi chuckled. “Passion? It’s just cloth. What sentiment can a color hold?”
Suiyin wagged a finger, her hair swaying as she shook her head. “Red dresses blaze with feeling. White is cold and lifeless. I dislike it.”
Abruptly, she recalled the robe’s origins.
Studying Xia Shi’s impassive face, Suiyin asked, “Was this yours?”
Xia Shi nearly nodded, then remembered—these were Sanqing Realm disciple’s robes. Her current guise was that of a rogue cultivator, unaffiliated.
“No. Found it in a dead person’s storage ring.”
With nothing left to ask, Suiyin merely hummed acknowledgment.
Fireworks detonated overhead, painting the night in blossoms of light. The crowd cheered, faces upturned.
Xia Shi watched lanterns climb the sky, each bearing mortal wishes.
Suiyin had slipped away unnoticed, returning with two blank lanterns.
“Write one,” she said, offering a lantern.
Xia Shi took it and stepped aside, back turned.
Two desires consumed her: mending her sword, and unveiling the truth of her tribulation site.
Respecting privacy, Suiyin turned away to scribble her own wish.
Their lanterns ascended together.
Suiyin smiled, eyes crescent moons.
“May your wish find wings.”
Xia Shi’s thumb brushed the sword’s cloth wrappings. “And yours take flight,” she murmured, soft yet clear.
