Chapter 37
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Chapter 37: Title
Star Viewing Platform.
Shen Huaiwen gazed at the endless snowstorm sweeping the mountains and exhaled softly, her brows dipping. "You want both of them to remain in the Scripture Hall?"
Ye Xiao nodded. "The Immortal Sect Conference approaches. She’ll be safer here. With Suiyin’s company, loneliness won’t trouble her."
"Always so protective. Since her last escapade, your eyes haven’t left her."
Shen Huaiwen watched the sect leader’s face tighten before he muttered, "I haven’t."
Lowering her eyes with an amused huff, Shen Huaiwen changed subjects. "After the conference, I intend to visit Divine Doctor Valley. Junior Sister’s peculiar poison baffles me still. Recent theories require their expertise."
"Pray it’s not what we suspect."
"Divine Doctor Valley barred outsiders since the Thirteen Ghost Domains’ assault two decades past." Ye Xiao’s forehead creased. "They may blame Xia Wuwei despite her innocence."
"Even thorns must be grasped." Shen Huaiwen’s words dissolved into mountain winds, reaching an eavesdropper beyond the platform.
Wen Zhishu arrived bearing Xia Shi’s medicine, spiritual power warming the liquid as she marveled at the Scripture Hall’s archives. Guided upstairs, she found the copying chamber door ajar.
Inside—Suiyin scribbled madly, ink-stained hands blurring across parchment, while Xia Shi reclined with shut eyes, teacup in hand.
"…"
The scene felt… inverted.
"Elder Wuwei, your medicine." Wen Zhishu’s correction came too late.
Xia Shi froze. Her eyelids flickered open, revealing fleeting revulsion before composure returned.
Placing the medicine bowl down, Wen Zhishu eyed Suiyin’s drenched brow. "Is the penalty truly so harsh? No rest allowed?"
Xia Shi traced the bowl’s rim, contemplating existence’s cruelty.
Her life mirrored the medicine’s bitterness.
Across the table, Suiyin’s trembling lips betrayed impending tears—misery loved company.
"Master," the girl chirped sweetly, "the medicine cools."
Such devotion.
Xia Shi shot her disciple a withering look but didn’t touch the bowl. Liquid courage failed her.
"Wen Zhishu—air. Open that window."
The attendant obliged, pushing open the sealed pane.
Bitter fumes assaulted their nostrils.
A pale golden streak of light flashed before her eyes. The medicine bowl tossed into the air instantly crumbled to dust, scattering completely as the medicinal broth evaporated into brown mist.
Wen Zhishu’s lips curved into a faint smile as she lowered her gaze and turned away.
Behind her, Xia Shi sat perfectly still, her face showing no trace of guilt.
Her composure nearly made the previous moment seem like an illusion.
"You…"
Xia Shi pressed a finger to her lips, whispering, "Don’t speak."
Then—
"Xia Wuwei, seeking death?!"
Shen Huaiwen’s gently authoritative voice exploded in the quiet room.
Xia Shi froze, her gaze snapping to the jade token at Wen Zhishu’s waist.
"Senior Sister???"
"Don’t address me as Senior Sister." The voice from the jade token sounded again.
Xia Shi: "…"
This line felt familiar.
Caught red-handed, Xia Shi straightened up and bowed her head. "My apologies, Senior Sister."
Daring to dispose of Shen Huaiwen’s medicine – she truly was unprecedented.
"Hmph." A cold snort came through the token.
"Zhishu, return now."
Wen Zhishu shot Xia Shi a pitying look before leaving the room.
"Master, medicine should be taken warm."
Hearing this familiar line, Xia Shi glanced up and instantly detected suppressed amusement in the other’s expression.
"Amusing?"
Suiyin instantly schooled her features, shaking her head. "Not at all."
"Then keep writing!"
Xia Shi picked up her brush, scribbling occasionally. She knew more medicine would arrive soon – undoubtedly brought by her smiling-tiger Senior Sister Shen Huaiwen.
Exactly as predicted, two hours later Shen Huaiwen entered with her trademark gentle smile.
Xia Shi kept her head down but couldn’t suppress a shiver.
She pretended to focus on copying, but her brush skittered wildly across the paper.
Shen Huaiwen stood before the desk holding a medicine bowl whose pungent aroma made even Suiyin pinch her nose.
This concoction… could it be lethal?
Xia Shi slowly looked up, feigning surprise. "Ah! What brings Senior Sister here?"
Her sudden formality betrayed genuine fear.
Suiyin set down her pen to watch the unfolding scene.
Shen Huaiwen stood wordlessly, placing the medicine bowl down as her gaze pinned Xia Shi in place.
The silence grew heavier than any speech.
Trapped under that stare, Xia Shi had to drink the bitter concoction despite her reluctance.
Her hands shook as she lifted the bowl, torn between fearing it would slip and fearing it wouldn’t.
No spill meant suffering. Spilling meant greater consequences.
Before the bowl even reached her nose, the medicine’s cruel bitterness assaulted her senses, making her gag.
"For you, senior sister," she forced a chuckle, "this medicine tastes… different today?"
Far more potent than the batch she’d secretly dumped earlier.
Huaiwen finally responded, "Your condition worsened. I adjusted the formula – taste it properly."
Adjusted.
Xia Shi stared into the murky liquid, imagining grotesque demons leering from its depths.
She vowed never to cross Huaiwen again.
Steeling herself, she gulped the medicine in one breath.
Bitter agony flooded her senses. Clutching her face, she hid the twisted grimace contorting her features.
Huaiwen’s eyes softened with approval as she produced a paper bag of candied chestnuts.
"No more tricks."
"Never again," Xia Shi rasped through the lingering bitterness coating her throat.
Once alone, Xia Shi beckoned urgently to Suiyin.
The younger disciple approached with forced composure, thigh still smarting from her concealed laughter.
"M-master?"
"Peel these. Now."
Suiyin opened the warm bag, releasing steam carrying sweetness that clashed with the medicinal stench. Two plump chestnuts emerged from their shells.
Her fingertips brushed unexpected moisture.
A glance froze her in place.
Instead of taking the nuts, Xia Shi had leaned forward – lips parted, tongue-tip curling around the offering. The wet warmth of her master’s tongue grazed Suiyin’s fingers.
"Two more."
Suiyin immediately lowered her head upon hearing this, cheeks growing warm. The lingering damp softness on her fingertips persisted as she peeled chestnuts faster.
One…
Two…
…
Ten…
One feeding, one eating – perfectly harmonious.
Only when the bitterness had mostly subsided did Xia Shi withdraw her shielding hand. Just as she reached to pour tea, a hand materialized before her, slender fingers clutching precisely what she desired.
This disciple… truly understood.
Xia Shi accepted the tea and drank leisurely.
"Take the remainder. Your reward."
Suiyin peeled another chestnut and slipped it between her lips. Whether deliberate or accidental, when biting into the nut, her resting tongue imitated Xia Shi’s earlier motion by curling around it.
Fingertips moistened, yet this inexplicably unsettled Suiyin.
She hadn’t felt this discomfort moments before.
The chestnuts’ powdery sweetness clung temptingly to the palate.
"Master, I’d like tea too."
Xia Shi drained her cup and pushed it toward Suiyin without looking up. "Pour it yourself."
Suiyin filled the cup and drank from its rim, her heartbeat inexplicably accelerating.
————
Deep in night’s embrace, when dreams grow heaviest.
Qin An beheld her sword within slumber’s realm, the blade hovering in white mist like half-forgotten memory.
Bewilderment rose within her.
Two steps forward – the sword retreated two spans.
"Is that truly your sword?"
The question sparked automatic response: "My senior sister’s gift becomes mine by right."
Only then did Qin An register the foreign voice.
Swirling mist surrounded her – this was no waking world.
Who breached her dream?
No – who commanded her dream!
Caution sharpened Qin An’s voice to winter’s edge. "Name yourself!"
Laughter rippled through the dreamscape. The voice continued its sword-talk, ignoring her demand. "You claim ownership – but does the blade heed your hand?"
Qin An fell silent.
She truly couldn’t control it, and it never obeyed her.
"Not like Suiyin, who shares a mind with her sword."
"That sword belongs to Suiyin, doesn’t it?"
"No! This is mine!" Qin An shouted. She tried to seize the sword to prove herself, but it moved further away until vanishing into the mist.
"See? It rejects you. Only Suiyin wields its true power. In your hands, it’s worthless scrap!"
"Shut up!" Qin An pressed hands over ears, but the voices wormed deeper.
"Want to master it? Want to surpass Suiyin? I’ll help. Just nod."
Her ears filled with buzzing. Qin An bit her tongue tip sharply – pain shocked her awake.
Escaping the dream, she heard a furious scream: Fool!
Qin An sat drenched in sweat. Unseen in shadows, blue smoke slithered through a window crack.
Wiping her brow, she saw daylight filtering through leaves. Morning.
Was it just a dream… or something darker?
But Sanqing Realm tolerated no filth.
Frowning, she cast a cleansing spell. Dressed, her eyes caught the sword by her bed.
After a pause, she sighed softly and carried it outside.
"Morning, Junior Qin!" A senior sister called in the courtyard.
Qin An nodded absently, drifting like a ghost toward the Scripture Hall.
She stopped before its doors.
The sword mattered only because Senior Sister gave it.
Yet…
She couldn’t command it.
Deep breath. Decision made, Qin An marched inside.
