Chapter 80
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Chapter 80: Title
Qingxue wandered dazedly to the stone statue in the courtyard, curling her aged body against the cold surface. Violent tremors shook her frame as anguished sobs carried into the main hall. Suiyin lowered her gaze and retreated to the inner room.
Xia Shi remained unconscious. In this spiritual energy-deprived Mortal World, cultivators suffered more than ordinary folk – especially those of higher realms. Though Suiyin felt suffocating heat herself, the bedridden woman appeared worse. Xia Shi’s thin garments clung sweat-soaked to her skin, droplets cascading from her pale forehead.
Suiyin approached with soft cloth to dab the perspiration from Xia Shi’s neck, her own gaze chaotic. Lingyang and Qingxue. Canglong and Jiang Liufeng. Herself and Xia Shi. People claimed lovers were destined to be together, yet how many pairs had they witnessed succeeding?
None.
With a light sigh, Suiyin’s attention fell upon the Long Sword by the bed. Its pale blade gleamed frost-like, hilt adorned with a faded sword tassel. Acting on impulse, she lifted the weapon, fingertips tracing patterns on the sword sheath. The jade bead at her wrist clinked against metal.
Aunt Yan had given this spirit-stabilizing bead. This borrowed body wasn’t hers. She existed as a parasite, ignorant of origins or purpose. Aunt Yan claimed recovering her sword would restore lost memories.
Her sword…
Identical to Xia Shi’s Heartless Sword.
Placing the blade across her knees, Suiyin removed the jade bead. Strength abandoned her instantly. She barely caught the falling Long Sword, collapsing heavily onto Xia Shi. A pained grunt escaped the unconscious woman.
Before Suiyin could rise, needle-sharp agony pierced her skull. Clutching her head, fragmented visions surfaced:
A young man in white, single sword icing a thousand miles. From Sanqing to East Sea, Canghai’s banquet, sword dances through cherry blossom groves, Kunlun’s peak…
One man, one blade, traversing the Nine Realms.
Suiyin’s lashes fluttered as understanding dawned. No wonder she’d instinctively gravitated to Xia Shi. No wonder Xia Shi’s figure haunted her consciousness. No wonder Late Winter Snow and Everything Awaits Spring felt like old friends…
The clues had always been there. She’d simply been too blind to see.
She was the sword spirit.
The sword spirit of the blade Xia Shi carried.
Looking back at that strange night in Canghai – had Xia Shi known even then?
Was that why she’d asked, "Do you like being like this?"
Like this. Living with flesh and blood. Standing side by shoulder with her.
Suiyin pressed her face into the thin blanket, feeling the faint rise-fall of Xia Shi’s breathing beneath her cheek.
A choked laugh escaped her. Tears traced hot paths to the pillow.
She did. She liked it so much.
Her laughter dissolved into soft sobs.
Why hadn’t she been smarter? Why hadn’t she remembered sooner?
Xia Wuwei. Xia Wuwei. You who thrived in crowds – how lonely those Four Hundred Years must’ve been, guarding Sword Pavilion alone to master the path of tranquility.
Suiyin’s fists clenched in the blanket-folds, careful not to tighten too much against the sleeping woman’s hand.
"Crying over what?"
The hoarse words came from above. Fingers brushed damp hair from Suiyin’s temple.
Sobs hitched. Suiyin lifted her face to meet smiling eyes.
"Xia…Xia Wuwei!"
The name broke into a wail as she threw herself against the woman’s chest.
"Not your fault. None of it was–"
Xia Shi’s hovering hand paused mid-air before settling on Suiyin’s back. Slow circles. Gentle shushes.
"I know."
"No you don’t!" Suiyin understood too well – how Xia Wuwei would blame herself for Qinghu Region. Blame her own trusting nature more than Pei Jiu’s betrayal.
That wound never healed.
Silence.
Suiyin shook with feeling – grief and joy tangling until her head spun. She wanted to scream. To laugh.
Things a sword spirit couldn’t do.
The hand kept moving down her back. Waiting.
When the storm passed (time measured in tear-soaked blanket patches, not incense sticks), Suiyin stared at the damp stain between them.
Xia Shi’s thumb caught a last tear. "Done flattening me yet?"
The weak joke snapped Suiyin upright. "Did I hurt–? Where does it–?"
She scrambled to prop pillows behind Xia Shi, hands hovering like nervous sparrows.
After completing everything, the two finally had the opportunity to speak face-to-face.
Xia Shi gazed at Suiyin’s reddened eyes and felt her own nose sting. She leaned closer and brushed her thumb across Suiyin’s damp eyelid.
"Why do you cry so much?"
Suiyin nuzzled into the warmth of Xia Shi’s palm, tilting her cheek against it.
Xia Shi let her cling while glancing around the unfamiliar room.
"Where is this?"
Suiyin recounted every detail since their escape from the Forbidden Area of Canghai.
"So this is the mortal world," Xia Shi murmured, licking cracked lips before chuckling dryly.
"What’s funny?" Suiyin asked.
"When I awoke without sensing spiritual energy," Xia Shi replied, "I feared I’d become useless."
In her desperation, she’d gambled on the formation from her memories without full confidence.
The realization of possible backlash hadn’t shocked her. She’d expected death – like when facing those two fierce beasts. Survival felt either like Heavenly Dao’s mercy or punishment for sins yet unatoned.
"The mortal world…"
But why here, of all places? This land once shielded by Lingyang Jun… Could there be connections?
"I need to see Fairy Lord Lingyang’s widow."
Suiyin nodded, helping her rise. "She… knows of her lord’s demise. She’s not well."
"I understand."
A thousand years of hope shattered – Xia Shi knew that agony. Yet she had to ask. Had to uncover Pei Jiu’s role. If Lingyang Jun ordered Yan Li to investigate Pei Jiu… Perhaps the ancient Nine Realms calamity tied to her too.
Leaning on Suiyin, Xia Shi entered the courtyard where Lu Ciyou and Yan Li waited.
The young lady stared stubbornly at the ground. "You… alright?" she mumbled.
Yan Li watched anxiously.
Though pale, Xia Shi’s dark eyes sparkled as she smiled. "I’m fine."
Lu Ciyou’s lips twitched upward despite herself. Yan Li’s stern mask finally slipped.
Xia Shi’s attention shifted to the solitary figure beneath the three-meter stone statue. Even this spiritless effigy sheltered its master’s beloved from the sun’s wrath.
As they approached, the pitch-black cat beside Qingxue hissed, fur standing rigid. It barred their path, spine arched like drawn bow.
Xia Shi halted. Suiyin hovered close, ready to intercept any attack.
"Senior." Xia Shi respectfully raised her hand in greeting.
Qingxue neither turned around nor responded.
Xia Shi continued, "I wish to inquire about someone."
"Do you know Pei Jiu?"
The gaunt elderly silhouette finally stirred. Qingxue slowly turned to face the young woman, her voice rasping, "How do you have knowledge of that name?"
This response matched Xia Shi’s expectations.
"Could you tell me about her?"
Qingxue nodded.
"She lay unconscious, drenched in blood on Qingyun City’s outskirts…"
During the six months Qingxue awaited Lingyang’s return, she’d rescued someone near Qingyun City.
The cultivator’s robes clung to Pei Jiu’s blood-soaked form when Qingxue found her near death.
The woman claimed she came from the Nine Realms.
Lingyang’s influence made Qingxue favorably disposed toward Nine Realms natives.
She sheltered Pei Jiu, hoping to learn more about Lingyang’s homeland. Initially reticent, Pei Jiu gradually began sharing stories of the Nine Realms and Lingyang as their familiarity grew.
They became friends.
After recovering, Pei Jiu remained. "I’m weary of Nine Realms life," she told Qingxue. "Qingyun City suits me better."
Even when Lingyang ascended to the Immortal Capital and temples with statues proliferated through the city, Pei Jiu showed no interest in returning.
She wandered the mortal realm, frequently visiting Qingxue to share tales of her journeys.
Qingxue last saw Pei Jiu the night before Lingyang’s capture.
The visitor arrived hurriedly after midnight.
"She appeared to be searching for something," Qingxue murmured, her millennia-old memories straining. "Did she succeed?"
The question hung in the air.
That fateful night found Lingyang inexplicably absent. Qingxue sat alone beneath the stars, cradling an unfinished wooden statue of her friend – its eyes still uncarved, awaiting Lingyang’s return.
Pei Jiu burst in during this vigil.
Blood-streaked and wild-eyed, she seized Qingxue’s shoulders. "WHY?!"
The uncharacteristic outburst startled Qingxue into falling. She watched helplessly as the deranged woman ransacked the house.
Moments later, Pei Jiu reappeared, shaking Qingxue violently. "WHERE IS IT? WHERE?!"
Confused yet concerned for her friend’s wounds, Qingxue could only stare in bewilderment.
Later, Pei Jiu left.
The next day, Lingyang was taken by people from the Immortal Capital, likely for stealing something crucial.
"She took the pendant Lingyang gave me!" Qingxue exclaimed.
"Yes, the pendant!"
"The pendant?" Xia Shi remembered Fairy Lord Min Sheng’s words.
She’d said Lingyang Jun stole the Immortal Capital’s treasure, the golden seal, forcing Fairy Lord Tiansui to split her Divine Bone. All twenty-four immortals died in that disaster.
The golden seal.
Jiang Liufeng and Tiansui had also discussed this.
If Lingyang Jun truly stole the seal, why hide such an important item with Qingxue?
How did Pei Jiu know about it?
Pei Jiu… Pei Jiu…
Xia Shi repeated the name silently, her breaths growing heavier.
What did you plan after the thousand-year calamity and the Qinghu Region incident four hundred years ago?
