Chapter 2

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Chapter 2: Title

Lingyang Jun’s Purple Mansion Secret Realm, Cang Mountain foothills.

Xia Shi walked along a stream with endless forests behind her, the distant snow-capped mountains standing sacred and pristine like a celestial realm. Spirit beasts drank from the water’s edge, emitting low murmurs. The air carried a biting chill beneath the snow mountain.

Clutching her sword in silence, Xia Shi paused when passing a snow-white spirit deer that tilted its head to observe her. They locked eyes—human and deer. The spirit beasts here differed from others; many were manifestations of spiritual energy left by the Purple Mansion Secret Realm’s master upon death. Lingyang Jun, a cultivator from a thousand years past with unfathomable cultivation, had created formidable guardians for his domain.

The spirit deer approached, circling Xia Shi while sniffing her breath. She remained motionless, tracking it with her gaze. Spirit beasts had their own instincts—provoking them served no purpose.

Without warning, the deer stiffened and growled toward the forest depths. Sensing danger, Xia Shi followed its line of sight.

A figure emerged wearing white attire speckled with bloodstains like crimson blossoms on snow. The spirit deer lifted its neck in a resonant cry. Nearby beasts perked their ears before dissolving into mist. Fog enveloped the stream banks as the deer retreated into the haze, casting one final glance at Xia Shi before vanishing.

The mist cleared to reveal the white-clad stranger. Xia Shi nodded curtly, avoiding unnecessary bonds. The pale figure swayed on unsteady feet, words dying unspoken before her aloofness.

Xia Shi turned toward Cang Mountain. Though indifferent, she knew the stranger followed through the deserted landscape. She halted only when frost-kissed grass crunched underfoot at the mountain’s base.

Labored footsteps approached, white robes fluttering in her peripheral vision. "Go no further," she said flatly.

A frail laugh answered, interrupted by coughing. Xia Shi’s brow furrowed. "The mountain chill will kill you. Your spiritual power’s too thin for protection."

"Gratitude, Fellow Immortal." Wen Zhishu pressed bloodless lips together, her gaunt frame radiating resolve. "But I must ascend."

"Your choice." Xia Shi resumed climbing, unable to ignore the hacking coughs behind her.

"Cough! Cough-cough!"

Each rasp seemed fit to shake lungs loose.

"Cough! Cough! Cough-cough-cough!"

Had the woman stronger cultivation, her coughing might’ve avalanched the thousand-year-old snows.

"Cough, cough—"

Xia Shi sighed and turned, fixing her with an intent gaze.

Wen Zhishu finished coughing behind her hand before speaking apologetically, "I’ll take another path ahead." She pointed at the approaching fork.

Xia Shi examined the diverging trails—one smooth and even, the other jagged with protruding rocks. She couldn’t bring herself to tell a frail person to take the harder path.

"Here." She thrust forward a porcelain bottle.

Without hesitation, Wen Zhishu swallowed the offered pill. Xia Shi raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you afraid it’s poison? No witnesses here if I decide to kill you."

The sickly woman maintained her gentle smile, some color returning to her cheeks. "If you meant me harm, poison would be wasteful. Any Qi Refining cultivator could finish me with one strike."

She tapped the medicine bottle. "This radiates such potent spiritual energy—clearly a valuable spirit herb. Why would you waste good medicine on killing me?"

"Why enter the secret realm in this state?" As soon as the words left her lips, Xia Shi regretted them. Of course everyone wanted treasures from Lingyang Jun’s Purple Mansion Secret Realm—the promise of advancing one’s cultivation realm tempted even the weakest.

Wen Zhishu’s smile turned bitter. "I know how foolish this seems. But without the Ziyan Lotus seeds from Cang Mountain’s cold ponds…" Her hand drifted to her chest. "This heart condition will claim me regardless."

"Night approaches." Xia Shi watched the dying sun stain the snowy peaks crimson. "The mountain cold will kill you before any illness. Return home—I’ll retrieve your lotus." She flicked her wrist, enveloping the other woman in a shimmering veil of spiritual power.

Wen Zhishu opened her mouth to thank her.

"Don’t." The black-clad cultivator adjusted her face covering. "Your coughing grates on my nerves."

"…My thanks, Fellow Immortal." Wen Zhishu turned, then paused. "Your name?"

"Xia Shi."

As the sickly cultivator retreated, Xia Shi exhaled sharply. Human interaction always left her frayed. At least she hadn’t lied—the Hanyu Stone she needed lay in the same frigid waters as the medicinal lotus.

Snowflakes settled on Xia Shi’s hair as she approached the abandoned cave. Though not exceptionally rare, Hanyu Stones always drew powerful spirit beasts. Yet she detected no threatening presences…

Wait.

Xia Shi wrinkled her nose, catching a faint trace of blood in the air.

Though her cultivation had weakened over the years, her senses had sharpened.

The cave mouth appeared choked with weeds, but careful observation revealed signs of recent disturbance.

Pushing aside the waist-high dry grass, the metallic tang of blood grew stronger.

A body lay inside.

Blood-stained hair shrouded the face, every inch of clothing stained crimson from brutal combat.

The figure’s breathing faltered, their lifeblood nearly spent, skin ghostly pale.

Xia Shi knelt and pressed fingers to the wrist.

"Spiritual power drained, meridians shattered, no trace of consciousness left. Not even gods could save you now."

"Fellow Immortal, I’m not unwilling to help, but—" Her words died as her gaze locked on the faint glow beneath the bloodied chest.

The dying cultivator had tried concealing their treasure, collapsing mid-effort. Half the prize remained visible.

Stealing from the helpless felt vile. Xia Shi steeled herself to leave.

Two steps away, she whirled around.

That wasn’t just any treasure—it was the Hanyu Stone!

"Xia Wuwei," she muttered, "today you become the scavenger you despise."

These wounds surely came from battling the Hanyu Stone’s guardian spirit beasts. Profiting from another’s suffering shamed her sect’s teachings.

Even knowing the stone would only pass to other scavengers, guilt gnawed at her.

She sighed at the fading figure. "I’ll bury you properly when you’re gone."

Stone secured, she recalled her promise to that ailing soul back home. The Ziyan Lotus awaited.

"I’ll return to lay you to rest after harvesting the lotus."

Xia Shi erected a spiritual barrier and entered the cave.

Behind her, a bloodied hand twitched. The wind carried dying words: "Thief… vile… thief…"

The guardian spirit beast—born from Lingyang Jun’s spiritual energy—had dissolved into mist upon death. Xia Shi found the frost-lined pond untouched. She collected half the glowing Ziyan Lotuses into her storage ring.

Returning, she dissolved the barrier. The body lay motionless, breath stilled.

"This cave won’t stay peaceful with the lotus here. You deserve better rest."

She carried the corpse to a peach grove.

"This suits you. I once considered such a place for myself."

"If I ever repair my sword," she vowed, "I’ll guard your grave a century. Though not your killer, I stole what you died claiming."

"But the Hanyu Stone… it means more than life itself."

Spiritual energy surged through her palm. The earth ruptured, yielding a grave.

"Can’t bury you looking like this." Xia Shi produced her spare disciple’s robes from the storage ring, dressing the corpse with care.

After burying the corpse, Xia Shi looked at the small earthen mound she’d built and nodded in satisfaction. She split a peach tree nearby to carve a wooden tombstone.

The stone bore no name, only a tiny "Xia" character etched at its lower right corner.

Having completed the grave, Xia Shi erected a barrier around the area to prevent accidental disturbances to this tranquility.

"Fellow Immortal’s noble sacrifice shall be remembered throughout my lifetime."