Chapter 16
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
Chapter 16: Title
"Ciyou, I know you seek experience, but the Nine Realms are perilous. Exercise utmost caution. The leading sects will gather at Sanqing Realm’s banquet in three months. Do not be late."
Lu Ciyou crumpled the message talisman with a snort. "Sanqing Realm? Never!"
Attending that banquet would be pure humiliation.
Spotting a spring ahead in the Canghai realm’s wilderness, she approached. Her throat parched, she drank deeply—spiritual stones and elixirs were scarce, and she needed supplies from her family’s shop.
The water tasted sweet until reddish streaks swirled in it.
Diluted blood.
Lu Ciyou grimaced, suddenly imagining metallic tang on her tongue.
"Disgusting!" She spat violently. "Die somewhere else!"
Upstream, a corpse lay at the river’s bend. Sensing faint breath, she stalked over and nudged it with her boot.
"Hey. You alive?"
The body was still soft. With a kick, it rolled over, revealing the face.
Lu Ciyou stumbled backward in shock, needing several breaths to steady herself. She studied the half-corroded features, sensing a vague familiarity.
The woman’s faded gray robes hung in tatters, devoid of any sect emblem.
A rogue cultivator?
She’d been crossing paths with too many of those lately.
Crouching, Lu Ciyou tilted the woman’s chin left and right, but recognition eluded her. She retrieved her final elixir bottle from her pouch, forcing the contents into the woman’s mouth.
The medicine dissolved instantly—no choking risk.
The corpse-pale eyelids flew open. Two wet coughs sprayed dark blood across Lu Ciyou’s skirt and boots.
“…”
She counted three heartbeats, whispering through clenched teeth: *Saving a life was a greater virtue than building a seven-story pagoda. Just clothes. Just clothes…*
“Sa…save me…”
A blood-stained, grimy hand clutched her hem. Lu Ciyou sighed.
Another burden acquired.
She hauled the woman onto her back, trudging toward distant town lights.
————
“This one?”
“Or this?”
“The azure shade complements your eyes.”
Xia Shi sat motionless as Suiyin cycled through forty-odd dresses from eight shops. Her critiques had shrunk to single syllables: “Adequate.” “Passable.” “Hn.”
“Marvelous choice!” The shopkeeper gushed. “This design’s exclusive to our store! That crimson silk makes you glow like a phoenix! Such grace! Such elegance!”
Suiyin pirouetted before the bronze mirror, then swept toward Xia Shi in a rustle of fabric. “Well?”
Rubbing her temples, Xia Shi glanced up—and froze.
“Beautiful.”
The word escaped before she could stop it. After endless blues and greens, the scarlet gown transformed Suiyin. Porcelain skin gleamed against fiery silk, softening her usual frosty demeanor into something almost approachable.
*Red carries more warmth than white,* the memory surfaced, drifting from their secret realm conversation. *White clothes make you look like a walking glacier.*
The words seemed fitting for Suiyin.
Xia Shi admitted Suiyin looked far better in red than white.
During Xia Shi’s momentary distraction, Suiyin had already struck a deal with the shopkeeper – purchasing every suitable red dress in the store regardless of style.
Clutching a bulging pouch of spiritual stones, the shopkeeper gushed praises, practically likening Suiyin to the celestial moon itself.
Suiyin beamed like a flower.
Xia Shi: “…”
After storing the garments in her storage ring, Suiyin turned to find Xia Shi still clad in black. She frowned.
“Aren’t you changing?”
White outfits were unflattering, but black looked even worse. Already quiet and unsmiling, the dark clothes made Xia Shi resemble a debt collector.
Suiyin suddenly leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially: “Are you broke?”
She at least remembered to preserve her friend’s dignity – financial matters shouldn’t be discussed publicly.
Xia Shi: “…”
“This is ritual attire. Cleaning spells suffice.” Her voice carried faint exasperation.
“But you look like a thief!” Suiyin protested, clutching Xia Shi’s sleeve and whining while shaking it. “Change it!”
Xia Shi stayed silent, the shaking worsening her headache.
A flick of her fingers transformed the robe into pale blue with white lining.
“Happy now?”
Suiyin cocked her head appraisingly before grinning. “Yes! Much better!”
The red and blue complemented beautifully.
As they exited the shop, they nearly collided with Lu Ciyou carrying a person on her back.
Suiyin yanked Xia Shi two steps backward.
Drenched in sweat and reeking of dried blood, Lu Ciyou’s disheveled appearance made pedestrians nose-pinchingly avoid her. She jostled her burden while muttering: “Don’t die now! I didn’t haul you this far for nothing. You owe me!”
The tall man’s weight strained the young lady unused to physical labor. She kept talking, terrified her cargo might expire unnoticed.
Though barely conscious, the man managed weak grunts in response.
“Goo…”
His faint reply eased Lu Ciyou’s tension. Spotting the crane emblem of Liujin Pavilion ahead, she forced her trembling legs forward.
Alone, she’d never rationed spiritual power. Now burdened, her reserves dwindled alarmingly, making her stingy with expenditure.
The young lady now counted every wisp of spiritual power.
Two figures suddenly blocked her path.
“Move!” she barked irritably.
“So rude!”
The voice sounded oddly familiar. Lu Ciyou frowned and looked up. When she recognized Xia Shi and Suiyin, her face lit up.
“You two! Hurry, perfect timing!” She shifted sideways, urgently gesturing for them to take the half-dead person from her back.
Her movement clearly leaned toward Suiyin.
Truth was, she never liked anyone surnamed Xia.
Suiyin retreated a step, her disgust plain.
“Are you kidding? I just changed into this new outfit—it’s beautiful and barely warmed up. I’m not carrying that bloody mess!”
Lu Ciyou: “?”
Noticing Lu’s exhaustion, Suiyin offered a smile. “I’ll help support the weight.”
Lu Ciyou suddenly felt her burden vanish. She blinked, eyeing their spotless robes before glancing at her own stained clothes…
The young lady flushed. “F-fine then. It’s not far anyway.”
At her shop, Lu Ciyou dumped the injured person and rushed to bathe. When she returned clean, the physician summoned by her shopkeeper stood ready.
“Well?”
The physician bowed. “This girl has White Frost inside her. Thankfully it hasn’t reached her meridians yet—we’ve temporarily contained it.”
“White Frost?”
“A toxic pill unique to the Thirteen Ghost Domains. Dissolves in blood. For cultivators? Deadly. At best, they lose all senses and cultivation.”
“Contained isn’t cured. Where’s the antidote?”
The old man tugged his beard. “No antidote exists. Thirteen Ghost Domains’ poisons are too vile. Medical cultivators of the Nine Realms focus on healing—who’d study such evils these past thousand years? Without the original formula…”
“So she’s doomed?” Lu Ciyou’s chair creaked under her grip. “I nearly broke my back carrying a corpse?”
“There’s hope.” Xia Shi’s voice floated from the corner.
The young lady glared, then remembered owing Xia Shi her life. Her retort came out strained: “Oh? The great medical cultivator has a solution?”
“Snow Spirit Fruit.”
The physician nodded. “A century to bloom, another to fruit. Grows amidst hundreds of poisons… yet neutralizes all toxins.”
A bitter laugh cut through the room. Lu Ciyou’s knuckles whitened on the armrest. “Snow Spirit Fruit only grew in Qinghu Region. Four hundred years ago, heavenly lightning turned that land to ash. It’s extinct.”
Xia Shi shrunk deeper into shadows.
Suiyin watched her shoulders slump. Reaching out, she grasped Xia Shi’s hand—icy coldness made her shiver.
“What’s wrong?”
Xia Shi tried pulling away, but Suiyin held firm.
“Friends care about each other. Don’t freeze me out.”
Xia Shi: “…”
“What’s wrong? Upset?” Suiyin cradled her hand in the warmest part of her palm.
“No.” Xia Shi pressed her lips tight. “Just remembering old things.”
Suiyin studied her face and dropped the subject.
One more question might cost her this friend.
——
The silence stretched until Lu Ciyou abruptly rose. She marched to the bed, gripped the unconscious girl’s jaw, and forced a bottle of medicine down her throat – a desperate measure for desperate times.
“What did you feed her?” Suiyin’s eyes rounded. “What if it kills her?”
Lu Ciyou tossed the empty vial aside. “She’s almost gone anyway. Worth a shot.”
“Liujin Pavilion’s Nine Spirit Ginseng. Revives corpses and rebuilds meridians. Added Snow Spirit Fruit too. Let’s see how White Frost holds up.”
Xia Shi blinked. “That’s priceless medicine. You just… gave it away?”
Nine Spirit Ginseng wasn’t just Liujin Pavilion’s treasure – it ranked among the Nine Realms’ rarest cures. Most ingredients grew in Qinghu Region, now barren. The remedy had become irreplaceable.
Lu Ciyou’s heart bled, but she shrugged. “Just medicine.”
Her gaze hardened on the bed.
Damn you. Eight lifetimes of service at Liujin Pavilion wouldn’t repay this debt.
——
Yan Li floated through murky darkness. Harsh voices reached her – sharp, impatient, yet comfortingly real.
Death approached. The voices agreed she couldn’t be saved.
She struggled to open her eyes, to see the speaker. Useless. Pain spiderwebbed through her bones, sapping strength.
She fell endlessly. Voices faded.
Dying.
A hand caught hers. Warmth trickled from fingertips to chest.
SPANG!
Spiritual power exploded through the room. Wood splintered. Windows shattered.
CRASH!
The final window fell. So did Lu Ciyou, blasted off her feet.
The young lady stood dust-streaked and murderous, then burst into wild laughter.
Saved a life. Lost her power. Wasted medicine. Wrecked shop.
In the corner, two figures lowered their barrier. Suiyin kept an arm around Xia Shi’s waist, patting her own chest. “You alright?”
She’d bet Xia Shi was still low on spiritual power.
“It’s nothing.” Xia Shi’s attention was fixed on the unconscious figure on the bed, unaware of the hand still resting on her.
She stepped closer to the bedside, lowering her gaze to study the face creased with deep wrinkles.
Within the lingering spiritual power, she detected traces of inner energy belonging to the Sanqing Realm.
Remembering the missing disciple she’d been searching for, Xia Shi bent to lift the person’s arm.
The sleeve was nearly torn off, but at the frayed edge, she glimpsed the sharp tip of a Six-petal flower’s imprint.
Silently erasing the last remnants of the emblem, Xia Shi retreated.
“Find anything?” Suiyin prodded her.
Xia Shi answered, “She’s alive.”
“Alive! Splendid! Truly splendid!” Lu Ciyou stalked forward, eyes blazing, her Soaring Dragon spear gripped like a fishing harpoon with its tip pointed at the bed.
Her face twisted between laughter and fury, hands trembling.
Xia Shi and Suiyin exchanged a glance and quietly shuffled toward the corner.
Who knew if that spear might slip from her grip?