Chapter 17

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Chapter 17: Title

“Your name,” Lu Ciyou demanded, her voice icy as she glared at the now-conscious figure.

The woman sat rigidly at the table, clad in thin robes, her pallor ghostly. Even her fingertips on the table’s surface looked bloodless.

White Frost had numbed her senses. Though the Nine Spirit Ginseng restored some hearing, it remained faint and muddled.

Unable to speak, she groped for the teacup Lu Ciyou had shoved toward her, dipping a finger in the liquid to scrawl on the wood:

_Li._

Lu Ciyou’s brows knit. “Just one character?”

Yan Li nodded faintly.

Uncertain of the woman’s motives, she dared not reveal her ties to the Sanqing Realm. Better to avoid dragging her Master into potential grudges.

“I saved you,” Lu Ciyou barked, drumming her fingers on the table. “My spiritual power’s drained, my medicines spent, my shop ruined. Let’s tally the debt. One million spiritual stones. Pay up, or you’re going nowhere.”

The young lady’s accounting held a generous measure of personal grievance.

Yan Li, newly revived beneath this mountain of debt, froze.

Blindly patting her waist, she sought the spatial pouch that held her life’s savings—spiritual stones and elixirs enough to cover most claims. Her fingers met empty air.

Her clothes had been changed.

“My…?”

Lu Ciyou cut in, “Your rags were unsalvageable. Ah, right—new robes aren’t included in the bill yet.”

The young lady counted on her fingers, side-eyeing Yan Li’s worsening pallor. With a huff, she added, “Nevermind. Consider the clothes charity.”

“Thank… you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I asked the physician—you’ll recover gradually in a few days, but your meridians need longer to heal.” Lu Ciyou added, “I happen to need someone to attend me. Serve me for a day, and I’ll count it as two hundred spiritual stones. At this rate, you’ll repay me in fourteen years.”

Yan Li’s brows knitted tightly.

She couldn’t possibly stay with this person that long.

Before she could fumble out a refusal, the young lady declared, “If you refuse, don’t blame me.”

Lu Ciyou smiled. “I’ll kill you now and dig out your spiritual root for alchemy.”

Yan Li froze: “…!”

Raised in the Sanqing Realm, she’d trained in swordsmanship to uphold righteousness. Her sect abhorred such cruelty—hearing these words, she sucked in a sharp breath, too shaken to protest.

Sitting motionless, she silently chanted the Sanqing Realm’s cultivation mantra, circulating her scant spiritual power through her body.

Just as Lu Ciyou claimed, her meridians were nearly all ruined. Full recovery would indeed take months.

Soon, Suiyin and Xia Shi entered to bid farewell.

“Where are you headed?” Lu Ciyou tilted her head. These rogue cultivators had met in the secret realm—strange they’d stick together afterward.

“Sanqing Realm.”

“Sanqing Realm? Going to the banquet? It’s too early.” Disgust flickered across Lu Ciyou’s face before she frowned. “But you’re rogue cultivators. The Hundred Immortals Banquet doesn’t invite your kind.”

“Banquet?” Suiyin shook her head. “I seek a sword, not feasts.”

The Sword Pavilion housed famed blades. Its rule allowed anyone—disciple or outsider—to challenge it for a sword. Sealed for Four Hundred Years, its recent reopening had drawn crowds.

Lu Ciyou nodded. “Then farewell.”

——

Traveling north, Suiyin and Xia Shi bought two snow lions to pull their carriage.

“Flying on swords takes two days,” Xia Shi remarked inside the cart. “These spirit beasts will need half a month.”

Slouching on the cushioned seat, Suiyin mumbled sleepily, “Tired. And we’ve no swords.”

Sword-flight drained spiritual power. Snow lions were swift, steady, cheap—perfect.

As the north grew colder, the lions pulled harder. Warmth enveloped the carriage, lulling Suiyin into nodding off until her head dropped onto Xia Shi’s meditating lap.

Xia Shi opened her eyes. In the dim glow, the girl’s lashes quivered, lips curving as if dreaming something sweet.

“Wu…wu…”

The sleeper garbled the first syllable, the rest indistinct.

Xia Shi closed her eyes again, ignoring dream-talk. But as she sank into her consciousness, a murmur came:

“Wu…wei…”

——

After six days’ jolting travel, the panting snow lions blinked their fist-sized eyes at Suiyin.

“Rest two days,” Suiyin said, then froze upon seeing Xia Shi. “You’ve meditated daily. Why still look so pale?”

After speaking, she sank into contemplation, wondering if the crude carriage had made their guest uncomfortable.

Xia Shi pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow. She’d noticed the chaotic flow of energy inside her body these past few days.

A sudden warmth pressed against her wrist. Xia Shi looked up to see the nervous face before her.

Suiyin kept feeling for a while but detected no abnormalities.

Other medical cultivators channeled spiritual power during diagnosis, yet this person merely placed a hand incorrectly, missing the pulse point entirely.

"Do you actually know how?" Xia Shi inquired.

"I’ve watched others do it," Suiyin declared with assurance.

Xia Shi stared blankly.

She yanked her hand back without ceremony.

If observation counted as skill, ascension would be within everyone’s reach.

Suiyin scratched her nose bridge. "Let’s find a proper medical cultivator later."

Specialized tasks required experts.

Xia Shi nodded agreement this time.

The snow lions halted abruptly, rumbling at their carriage.

Distant voices and music drifted through the mist ahead, creating dissonant echoes.

Suiyin lifted the curtain only to be assaulted by cloying perfume. Coughing violently, she retreated inside.

As traces of fragrance wafted in, Xia Shi wrinkled her nose and covered her face.

The scent proved overwhelmingly pungent.

After disembarking, Suiyin stored the snow lions in her storage ring.

Before them shimmered a translucent barrier glowing with lantern light, merry sounds leaking through the mystical partition.

"Who’d hide such splendor in wilderness?" Suiyin marveled, curiosity sparkling as she plucked at Xia Shi’s sleeve. "Shall we investigate?"

Xia Shi held her companion back cautiously. "Wait," she whispered.

Thick fog engulfed them as they advanced, obscuring everything save the barrier’s beckoning glow.

"Stay alert," Suiyin warned, her grip sliding from sleeve to clasp Xia Shi’s cool palm firmly.

Xia Shi tensed momentarily. "Unnecessary."

"Conserve your spiritual power while your energy’s unstable. Stick close so I can shield you if needed."

Xia Shi glanced at the crimson-clad girl beside her. Words of refusal died unspoken as she permitted the handholding.

Guided by the luminous haze, they soon reached the barrier’s edge where attendants distributed red ropes.

Wrist-bound ropes granted entry through the glowing partition. During their observation, several cultivators passed through wearing intoxicated grins.

Phantom-like figures emerged from and dissolved into the ever-shifting mists.

Two new arrivals approached – brothers, it seemed. The healthier supported a ashen-faced companion who clung to life by slenderest thread.

“Big Brother, you must hold on! We’ve reached the Beauty Manor. Once we find the legendary healer, you’ll be saved!”

The cultivator called Big Brother half-opened his eyelids, too weak to even nod.

The two hurried past Xia Shi and Suiyin, took red ropes from attendants at the barrier, and rushed inside.

“Healer?” Xia Shi frowned. Having been secluded for four hundred years, she’d never heard of this “legendary” figure in the Nine Realms.

Nor this “Beauty Manor” either.

“Sounds impressive. Maybe they can examine you.”

Suiyin’s eager voice snapped Xia Shi from her thoughts. Before she knew it, they stood before the attendants.

“Welcome, fairies.” The attendants bowed, offering red ropes.

Xia Shi sensed something wrong the moment the rope touched her palm.

A hidden formation within could detect one’s cultivation level, spiritual root quality, and meridians. Understandable precaution for entering another’s domain.

The black-and-gold plaque glowed crimson under lantern light. The final strokes of “Beauty Manor” stretched thin and long, their strokes intertwined, creating a sensual and ambiguous look.

Four or five gauzy-clad women descended upon them—or rather, upon Suiyin—the moment they entered.

Xia Shi’s plain features and icy demeanor paled beside Suiyin’s smiling charm. The girls naturally flocked to the more approachable target.

“What a pretty sister.” A woman hooked Suiyin’s chin, lips pursed for a kiss.

Suiyin blinked, pressing a hand to the woman’s shoulder to create distance. “You’re far lovelier, sister.”

Xia Shi arched a brow.

So the flirt knew boundaries after all.

When Suiyin didn’t return the pretended closeness, the woman shifted tactics. “What brings you here?”

Most came to Beauty Manor for pleasures—feasting, gambling, companionship, or desperate answers.

Suiyin’s voice turned honey-sweet. “Dear sister, does the manor house a healer?”

The “dear sister” worked magic. The woman’s earlier rejection forgotten, she tittered behind her handkerchief and flicked her gaze toward the second floor’s deepest room.

Understanding, Suiyin produced a luminous night pearl from her storage ring. “For you, sister.”

As they climbed upstairs, Xia Shi studied her companion. “You handled that smoothly.”

Suiyin tilted her head in confusion. “Hmm?”

Xia Shi dropped the matter when no answer came.

An unusual fragrance greeted them on the second floor—subtle yet insistent, tugging at their lungs. Xia Shi found herself craving its source, yearning to breathe deeper.

Rubbing her temple, she glimpsed shadowy figures exhaling fragrant smoke through the haze.

“Suiyin…”

She instinctively reached out beside her, but grasped only empty air.