Chapter 13

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Chapter 13: Title

Realm of Canghai, Sea Devouring Tower

“Miss, your tea’s gone cold. Shall I brew fresh?” The maid bent low, awaiting orders.

“Cold tea won’t murder me.” The woman’s whisper carried labored breaths, each word a struggle.

“Don’t speak so! The Token Lord would take offense.” The maid glanced at the window’s silhouette, pity etching her features.

Jiang Yun set aside her chilled hand-warmer, tightening her cloak. Before the maid could stop her, she shoved the window open.

“Miss!” The servant lunged to close it. “The draft—”

“Peace.” Jiang Yun’s smile held weary warmth. “A moment’s glance, then shut.”

The moment the window opened, cold wind rushed in, lifting the woman’s half-grayed hair and making her already pale face even paler. Even her lips lost color.

She reached out to catch the breeze, then brightened slightly. "This wind feels chilly," she said with raised hope. "Will it snow? Cough—"

Her unfinished words dissolved into chest-rattling coughs.

The window slammed shut by unseen force before Jiang Yun could glimpse outside, leaving her with lingering regret.

Light footsteps approached. Without turning, she recognized the visitor.

"You’re earlier than usual today."

"Still late enough." The reply carried restrained irritation, tempered by respect.

Jiang Wan stepped forward, pressing a warm heating pot into Jiang Yun’s hands. Their fingers brushed – cold meeting warmth.

The girl’s lips thinned, sharp brows drawing tighter.

Anticipating criticism, Jiang Yun spoke first. "I opened it. Don’t scold Huashang."

Jiang Wan nodded stiffly, anger banked but voice still hard. "I won’t."

She guided Jiang Yun from the window, ordering fresh tea. Jiang Yun sat primly, stealing glances at the shuttered view. "Will snow come to Canghai this year?"

"Never does. But I’ll visit Kunlun with Shadow Stone to capture snowfall for you." Jiang Wan poured steaming tea, pushing the cup close. "Cold harms your health."

Jiang Yun stared at her untouched drink. "Hmm."

The golden order of Realm of Canghai never stayed long. Duties called.

After Jiang Wan left, Huashang whispered, "Our Token Lord grows more responsible daily."

Jiang Yun inhaled tea steam, chasing vanished bitterness. The cooled cup sat abandoned as she gazed at the closed door. "I’d prefer her acting youthful sometimes."

When dusk shadows lengthened, Huashang cleared teacups and checked latches.

The door clicked shut.

Snowflakes materialized indoors, swirling like phantom petals.

A hoarse whisper cut through frost-laced air: "Sister, I’m home."

Winter’s breath filled the room as someone arrived to claim what heart still desired.

Lantern Festival.

Skyborne lights carried countless wishes upward.

Suiyin leaned on railings overlooking the opera stage. "Know why we’re here?" she asked her companions.

Below, actors trilled melodies to packed crowds – mortals and cultivators alike. Some restless eyes strayed from performance, stealing glances at private balconies.

Lu Ciyou leaned sideways to listen to the music, her body and mind completely relaxed. She casually answered, "It’d be such waste to miss such great place."

Jiang Xinian and Liu Sheng kept nodding, their attention glued to the stage.

Wen Zhishu lowered her head to sip tea in silence, making Suiyin turn her gaze toward Xia Shi.

For some reason, she kept finding herself wanting to look at this person.

Xia Shi hadn’t planned to speak, but after enduring the prolonged stare, she finally said, "You got Broken Stream. With such divine weapon, who wouldn’t come fighting for it?"

Delighted by her response, Suiyin scooted closer until their shoulders almost touched.

She seemed to enjoy invading personal space when talking.

Xia Shi disliked this intensely. The moment the girl moved closer, she shifted away, keeping stubborn distance between them.

After repeated rejections, Suiyin finally sensed Xia Shi’s resistance. She stopped moving but stared into those clear contrasting eyes. "Do you hate me?"

The dejection in her voice made Xia Shi’s resolve waver.

Maybe she’s being too harsh toward someone so new to the world, Xia Shi thought. She remembered her younger self – that naive version who trusted everyone, disregarding all boundaries.

"No," Xia Shi clarified. "I just dislike people getting too close."

Suiyin’s face brightened instantly. "So you don’t hate me?"

"…No. I don’t."

Hearing this, Suiyin’s entire expression lit up. She started to lean in but caught herself, settling for stretching her hand across the table to narrow the gap symbolically.

Xia Shi merely glanced at the curled fingers resting near her teacup.

"Trouble’s coming."

Lu Ciyou’s sudden comment broke the mood. She now glared at the staircase, undisguised contempt on her face.

Three sword-carrying men loitered by the stairs – cultivators, judging by their gear.

They’d clearly come investigating Broken Stream, but Lu Ciyou and Jiang Xinian’s presence kept them cautious.

"Relax. They won’t dare make trouble here." Suiyin calmly poured Xia Shi some floral tea. "Try it. Not bad."

Though everything here was illusion, the tea released faint floral aroma when sipped.

Xia Shi took small taste. Blossom fragrance blended with tea leaves, unexpectedly soothing.

"Why not?" Jiang Xinian asked.

Suiyin leaned forward conspiratorially. The others instinctively mirrored her movement – except Xia Shi, who remained straight-backed.

"There’s barrier here," Suiyin whispered. "No spiritual power allowed, same as mortal world. Disturb the balance, and you’ll awaken Lingyang Jun’s consciousness."

Even residual consciousness of deceased immortal could crush ordinary cultivators.

"Why place barrier here?" Wen Zhishu questioned. Better to protect Broken Stream or Linglong Pavilion’s treasures.

Suiyin shrugged. "Maybe Lingyang Jun’s greatest treasure’s hidden here."

But for a sword cultivator, what could be more precious than their own sword?

“Yet we can’t just hide here forever,” Jiang Xinian said with a furrowed brow. Besides wanting the Hanyu Stone, he’d entered this secret realm to prove himself through trials and show his father he deserved the Shenwu Sword.

Lu Ciyou shared his restlessness. Though unwilling to linger, she couldn’t ignore the shameless cultivators waiting to ambush them. After consideration, she stood and addressed the crowd: “Hear this—if any of my friends lose their treasures after we leave, Liujin Pavilion will hunt you down!”

The cultivators reacted with varied expressions. The mortal illusions conjured for the Lantern Festival paused briefly before resuming their scripted motions.

Xia Shi’s cheek twitched at the declaration.

_How naive._ While Liujin Pavilion ranked among the leading sects, the Nine Realms respected strength above all. Anyone seizing Broken Stream here would be formidable enough to make the Pavilion reconsider retaliation.

Unaware of such complexities, Lu Ciyou trusted her threat combined with Lingyang Jun’s barrier would deter attackers. Soon she departed with Jiang Xinian and Liu Sheng, leaving Xia Shi, Suiyin, and Wen Zhishu at the teahouse.

When the incense stick burned out, the second floor held only cultivators. Though forbidden from using spiritual power, the mob saw three women as easy prey. Few cared about the young lady’s warning.

Suiyin drained her teacup and produced Broken Stream with the red jade. The sword emitted starlight sparks in protest as she announced, “Take it if you can.”

Chaos erupted as they left. Cultivators brawled like beasts, reduced to biting and scratching.

Xia Shi clutched her own blade. “No regrets?”

“Would you abandon your sword for this?” Suiyin countered.

The answer hung unspoken between them.

The Lantern Festival flickered into nothingness behind them, its fate—and Broken Stream’s—swallowed by the void.