Chapter Thirty: Gently Brushing Away the Dust

Upon hearing this, Suhe immediately set aside the half-finished medicinal soup. "Truly?"

"Of course! Would I ever deceive you about something like this?" Huai Yin replied cheerfully, sitting beside him and winking conspiratorially.

After a pause, he leaned in closer. "Hey, why don't you go in and take a look first? I'll fetch something to eat for the Young Tower Master."

"Thank you," Suhe nodded, rising to head inside.

He lingered at the doorway for a moment before lifting the curtain halfway and bowing as he entered. Upon raising his eyes, he saw the beauty reclining against the head of the bed. His heart relaxed at once—she was awake, after all.

"Young Tower Master."

Yi Qingchen held a teacup in both hands. At the sound, she glanced at the newcomer, momentarily dazed. It was only when Suhe called her again that she collected herself.

Setting down the cup, she said, "The Young Tower Master is dead. Benefactor, please call me Qingchen."

Shuxing Tower was no more; what Young Tower Master could there be left in this world? She was nothing but a wandering soul.

Suhe halted in his tracks. "Forgive me, I spoke thoughtlessly."

He had forgotten that she had just endured a great sorrow; anything related to Shuxing Tower was a dagger lodged in her heart.

Yi Qingchen lowered her gaze and shook her head lightly. "It’s nothing. It is I who have lost my composure."

Seeing this, Suhe stood stiffly, his slender figure lost, uncertain how to offer comfort.

They had both lost those dearest to them.

Just then, Huai Yin entered carrying food, with Fu Qingfeng following behind.

Placing the food on a low stool, without so much as looking up, Huai Yin asked, "What's wrong with you two?"

One was grief-stricken, the other preoccupied.

"Hmm? It's nothing," Suhe replied, collecting himself. He turned to Fu Qingfeng. "Could I trouble you to examine Miss Yi again?"

Fu Qingfeng nodded, approached the bed, and indicated for Yi Qingchen to extend her right hand for a pulse.

"Thank you, sir," her tone betraying a certain familiarity.

"You recognize me?" Fu Qingfeng’s fingers found her pulse, a thread of internal energy flowing into her body.

"As a child, I was fortunate enough to see you once in my father's study."

After a moment, Fu Qingfeng withdrew his hand, dispersing the energy, and stood up. "So you were that little girl?"

"I am. I never thought, after so many years, that I’d have the chance to see you again. Qingchen owes her life to you, sir."

"You needn’t thank me. He is the one you should thank." He glanced at Suhe. "Had he not insisted on taking you from Yaoyue Peak, even my utmost abilities would not have saved you."

"And me, and me," Huai Yin interjected, thumping his chest. "I did my part, too!"

"I understand," Yi Qingchen replied softly, lowering her gaze once more. She turned to Suhe. "May I ask the name of my benefactor?"

"My surname is Baili, given name Suhe. Miss Yi, you may simply call me Suhe."

"Then, once again, my thanks." She looked up, a faint glimmer in her eyes.

So this was his true appearance.

Suhe did not notice, only bowing politely. "You needn’t be so formal, Miss Yi. In truth, my insistence on taking you away was not wholly selfless. I am unworthy of your gratitude, and must apologize."

Yi Qingchen was taken aback. "Is it because of the Imperial Bird’s stone egg?"

"It is."

A bitter smile touched her lips. "You are forthright, but I do not possess another such stone. As for how my father acquired it, I have no idea. He never allowed me to ask, and I was only fortunate enough to see it a few times."

Since she could remember, Shuxing Tower had acquired only two such stones. One her father had previously given to Ye Gu Qingfeng, the other had been destroyed by the hooded figure on the day of the tower’s fall.

Worried that Suhe might doubt her, she added, "Sir can testify to this."

Suhe turned to Fu Qingfeng. "My friend?"

"Indeed. When the Tower Master was alive, he did present one to me. But I have already used it on you."

At these words, Suhe’s expression changed. Used on him—could it have been then?

Fu Qingfeng nodded in confirmation.

One was spent, one destroyed. With no other source, was there truly no hope for Wushuang?

As Suhe sank into contemplation, Yi Qingchen suddenly spoke. "Though I know not how my father obtained those stones, he once said that if ever Shuxing Tower faced annihilation, we could seek Master Bufeng of the Gate of No Life, and he would see to all matters."

Suhe raised his eyes. "You mean?"

"I surmise that Bufeng Daoist and my father were fellow disciples. Perhaps, given their connection, he might know something."

But it had been a long time, and their interactions were few. Even if she sought him out, she could not guarantee answers.

After all, her father had indeed studied at the Gate of No Life for some time, but it was merely an exchange between allied sects.

Whether they could uncover useful information was hard to say.

All of this was only her conjecture, without evidence.

Huai Yin, after a long while, said, "In my opinion, it’s worth a try. Sitting here mourning solves nothing. A journey to the Gate of No Life might yield some clues."

Suhe asked Fu Qingfeng, "What do you think?"

It seemed feasible, but her injuries…

"She is recovering well. Take the medicine as prescribed." Fu Qingfeng handed over a small bottle. "One pill a day for seven days."

He had anticipated Suhe’s concern and had prepared the medicine in advance.

"When should we set out, considering Miss Yi’s condition?" Suhe asked, glancing at the woman on the bed. Though anxious, he prioritized her health.

"After one more dose tonight, you may leave the valley at dawn."

"Truly?" Huai Yin asked eagerly.

"Yes." Fu Qingfeng glanced at the three, then motioned for Suhe to step outside with him.

Suhe understood. "My friend and I have other matters, Miss Yi. Rest well."

He gestured to Fu Qingfeng. "After you."

The two left together, leaving Huai Yin grinning as he watched the beauty eat.

Exquisite, truly…

In the Nine Luminaries Pavilion, Yizhichun knocked on Wangyou’s door.

Seeing the maid Xing’er open the door, Yizhichun sashayed in, flicking her silk handkerchief as she entered.

Wangyou sat before a bronze mirror, lost in melancholy. Her face was bare, her hair like a waterfall cascading freely—indeed, a beauty as lovely as a flower.

"Oh, my dear. Whatever is the matter that has you so downcast? Let me see—who has upset our Wangyou?" She reached out to lift Wangyou’s chin.

Wangyou, blushing, pushed her hand away and stepped aside. "No one has upset me," she replied.

"Then what is it?" Yizhichun pressed, confused. Could she be putting on a show for me?

"It’s not that…" Wangyou hesitated, glancing at Xing’er. "Wait outside."

"Yes." Xing’er curtsied and withdrew.

"Now, can you tell me?" Yizhichun’s eyes smiled, but there was no warmth in them.

Wangyou offered no explanation, simply loosened her robe.

After a moment, Yizhichun stroked her own face, clicking her tongue. "Who would have thought that fellow had such tastes. You’ve had a rough time. Rest well for a few days—others can tend to the guests."

"Thank you, madam!" Wangyou bowed deeply.

"No need for that. Just rest; I’ll leave you to it."

"Farewell, madam."

After seeing Yizhichun out, Wangyou told Xing’er to guard the doors and not let anyone disturb her.

Then, without a sound, she slipped out of the Nine Luminaries Pavilion. Hours later, she appeared at the foot of Green Peak, where Qingfu had been waiting for some time.

"Did anyone follow you?"

"No. And even if someone slipped past me, they couldn't escape them." She glanced at the grass, where small black insects clung unseen to the undersides of leaves.

Qingfu’s eyes narrowed. "Come with me. The Demon Heir is waiting for you at the waterside pavilion."

"Thank you."

Entering the Demon Realm, at the waterside pavilion, Zhao Hongzhuang lounged on a couch, sipping her freshly brewed tea.

No matter how she brewed it, she could never conjure the flavor of that person.

Was this the difference between human and demon?

But she truly loved that pure, sweet taste…

At that moment, Qingfu led Wangyou to the eaves. "Demon Heir, Wangyou has arrived."

"Let her in."

Zhao Hongzhuang swirled her teacup, finding it ever more tasteless. She wondered—compared to tea, how many infusions could a person endure?

Wangyou entered, knelt by the couch, and bowed. "Greetings, sister."

"Well?"

"I have failed and come to accept my punishment."

Zhao Hongzhuang set her cup aside and looked at her. "Oh? Was it my lack of instruction?"

Wangyou trembled, her voice quavering. "Sister, please quell your anger. It was my own carelessness—I encountered a formidable opponent."

The memory made her long to tear Xian Geyue apart. Not only had he broken her charm, he had left her humiliated, swallowing her loss in silence.

Thinking of the bruises covering her body, she could only describe it as despicable.

Zhao Hongzhuang stepped down, knelt before Wangyou, and studied her. "Lift your head."

"I am guilty and dare not," Wangyou replied, shrinking away.

"You are indeed guilty."

A cold snort made Wangyou shudder, not daring to meet her eyes.

"Sister…"

"Have you forgotten how to address me in my presence?" The gentleness in her voice was more terrifying than wrath.

"Xiyan admits her fault. Please, sister, have mercy."

Hearing the tremble and sob in Xiyan’s tone, Zhao Hongzhuang smiled with satisfaction.

To make someone wish for death yet keep them bound to you, one must first grind them down day by day, until they are nothing but a docile pet.

"Get up. I will not grant a second chance for the same mistake. Remember this well." She helped her up.

"Thank you, sister."

"Tell me what happened. To break Xiyan’s charm, the opponent must have some background."

"Yes. Recently, I entered the Nine Luminaries Pavilion under orders, using the alias Wangyou. On my first day, a guest arrived claiming to want a heart-to-heart talk… At first, all went smoothly. But just as I thought I’d succeeded, he turned the tables on me. Not only did he break the charm you taught me, he used my own methods against me."

"You couldn’t discern his identity?"

"My eyes were clouded; I could not see through him. I don’t know when he broke free of the charm, nor when he turned the tables on me."

She had once been a woman who toyed with men at will. When had she ever been outmatched?

Zhao Hongzhuang glanced at her. "Never mind. It’s not your fault. With your previous skill and status, you could not have encountered anyone like that. Next time, avoid such people."

The Sea of Desire is full of capable people; the only thing to fear is provoking those you shouldn't, mistaking yourself for clever.

"Sister?" Wangyou ventured, unable to gauge Zhao Hongzhuang’s mood.

"Let’s leave that for now. What about the matter I asked you to investigate?"

"There is progress."

"Oh? Yi Qingchen is still alive?" Zhao Hongzhuang’s hand paused, the flower she was holding falling into her palm after a long, silent pause.