The End of the Stairs: A Secret, Not to Be Told

Even from a distance, most cultivators who had begun their training possessed keen eyes and ears, and those standing at the foot of the wall could clearly make out the jade token in He Zhuoming's palm.

Most didn't recognize the token, but the girl with the whip's expression flickered slightly.

Her companion sneered, "You pull out some—"

Before he could finish, the girl in red kicked him. The other companions finally noticed her expression and realized that the person on the wall might actually be someone of significance. They all cautiously reined in their arrogance.

The girl in red coiled her whip and tucked it back at her waist. Her gaze swept coldly across the plain-clothed girl's face before she said, "You got lucky today, but remember—your luck won't hold forever. Let's go!"

The group walked off with their heads high, eyes straight ahead.

He Zhuoming had been expecting them to explain the token, or at least say something about what it meant. To her slight disappointment, they said nothing at all.

Of course, only slightly.

She had been incredibly cool just now. That had been satisfying.

He Zhuoming clutched the token, jumped down from the wall, and asked the plain-clothed girl still standing there, "Are you okay?"

The girl looked up. She didn't show any gratitude for being saved; instead, her gaze was almost fierce as she scrutinized He Zhuoming. He Zhuoming stared back at her face and suddenly realized she recognized her.

It was Xu Feixian—the one she'd met briefly at the post station outside Wen County, the one who was so skilled with a blade.

Xu Feixian showed no appreciation at all. "Who asked you to meddle?"

He Zhuoming: "...How can you be like this! I just helped you!"

Xu Feixian gave a cold laugh. "Did I ask for your help? What a self-inflating fool."

He Zhuoming's brows knit, her temper flaring instantly. She set her face and turned to walk away.

She'd only gone a short distance when replaying the conversation made her angrier. Walking off like that felt like she'd lost the argument. She spun around and stomped back after Xu Feixian.

Xu Feixian was walking in the complete opposite direction, her right hand pressed lightly over her shoulder wound. Her clothes weren't torn, but a long red stain had seeped through the fabric there.

He Zhuoming fumed, "Even if you didn't ask for my help, I would have saved you anyway! Because I'm a moral, good person!"

Xu Feixian hadn't expected He Zhuoming to come chasing after her. She was a little speechless, glancing at her like she was an idiot. But He Zhuoming clearly didn't catch the look, because when their eyes met, the girl wore an expression that said, "Hurry up and apologize to me."

...Whose sheltered little fool was this? Had she left her brain in her mother's womb when she was born?

Xu Feixian couldn't be bothered with her. Remembering the jade token she had just pulled out, she decided it was better to stay far away. She turned to leave—but feared He Zhuoming would pester her, so she gave a perfunctory reply: "Fine, fine. All my fault."

He Zhuoming: "You still haven't said sorry and thank you."

Xu Feixian: "...Sorry. Thank you."

He Zhuoming was satisfied, but she didn't say "I accept." Xu Feixian's attitude was too irritating, so she decided not to accept her overture, and walked off with a stern face.

Doors and paths lay in every direction, but not one of them was familiar to He Zhuoming. She could have asked Xu Feixian for directions, but she didn't like her, so she decided to keep wandering on her own and trust her luck.

But before she could get far, Xu Feixian's hesitant voice came from behind: "Hey, you—"

He Zhuoming didn't turn around, just raised an arm and waved. "No need for more thanks. I didn't help just to hear you say it."

Xu Feixian: "...Did you not realize your period started?"

Though He Zhuoming was dressed in red, the smell of blood was easy to identify.

He Zhuoming froze, turning back to look at Xu Feixian. Xu Feixian was silent for a moment, and in the end, she still brought He Zhuoming back to her own quarters.

Soon Xu Feixian learned exactly what kind of trouble she had picked up: this person didn't even know how to use a menstrual cloth.

She had to teach He Zhuoming with a wooden expression. Of course, it wasn't because she had any affection for this foolish young lady—any girl would lend a hand in such a situation, even to her enemy, and He Zhuoming wasn't her enemy anyway.

He Zhuoming was deeply uncomfortable.

She began to miss disposable sanitary pads and described their general shape to Xu Feixian, asking if there was any way to make them.

Xu Feixian said flatly, "The cost would be too high. Do you have the money?"

He Zhuoming pulled out the purse she kept her money in. "I do!"

Xu Feixian gave the purse a cursory glance and said coldly, "Based on your description, that money would only make about a dozen such pads, and they couldn't be reused... How have you survived on so little money until now—never mind."

Remembering the jade token on He Zhuoming, Xu Feixian decided not to ask further.

He Zhuoming was shocked. "All this money, and it would only make a dozen or so?"

Xu Feixian walked over to a seat, took off her outer robe, and replied coolly, "What did you expect? By your requirements, the inside needs compressed cotton, the fabric all has to be soft fine cotton that won't chafe, and you throw it away the moment it's dirty. Do you know how expensive cotton is these days?"

He Zhuoming: "...Can't cultivators just conjure cotton?"

Xu Feixian was stunned by her naive comment. "Conjure cotton? We're cultivators, not immortals. If we could conjure cotton, conjure gold and silver, why would we still live and work among mortals?"

Xu Feixian's words shocked He Zhuoming, too—it seemed ordinary cultivators in this world weren't all that impressive.

They couldn't conjure cotton, couldn't turn stone into gold, and still had to go to work.

He Zhuoming dragged a chair over beside Xu Feixian and watched her peel off half her clothes to treat the whip wound on her shoulder: a gash with the skin split open ran from the end of her collarbone all the way back to her shoulder blade.

Xu Feixian treated the mark on her collarbone in front of the mirror, but it became awkward when it came to her back; it was outside her field of vision, and raising her arm pulled at the wound, causing her pain.

Seeing this, He Zhuoming's desire to help others exploded. She rolled up her sleeves and said, "Let me help you!"

Before Xu Feixian could even speak, He Zhuoming had already taken the medicine bottle from her hand and was carefully applying it to the wound on her back.

Her technique was terrible—she had no sense of touch, applying the medicine so hard that Xu Feixian wondered if she was deliberately taking revenge.

But from her bronze mirror, she could see He Zhuoming's face: taut with concentration, entirely serious and careful, not a trace of malice. Xu Feixian had no choice but to stay silent, and in that silence she felt a subtle, helpless resignation.

He Zhuoming asked curiously, "I remember you're really good with a blade—surely better than that whip. Why didn't you fight back?"

Xu Feixian: "...I have to participate in the internal selection matches for my sect. If I get into a private fight during the competition period and someone reports me, I'll lose my qualification to compete."

"And as you said, her whip work isn't good, so there's no need to bother with her... Can you apply the medicine a little more gently?"

He Zhuoming: "Oh, oh—sorry, did I hurt you?"

She gently blew twice on the wound on Xu Feixian's back, making goosebumps rise all over her.

Xu Feixian pulled her clothes back into place, a little uncomfortable. "It doesn't hurt that much. I was just saying."

Northerners believed that as long as two people sat naked together in a bathhouse, their relationship would improve.

A similar principle could be applied to He Zhuoming and Xu Feixian's current situation. Though they were far from friends, at least they were now nodding acquaintances.

He Zhuoming asked a few curious questions about the sect selection matches, and Xu Feixian answered patiently: "During the fifteen-day Day of Divine Celebration, the various sects gather at the True Deities' Divine Palace to spar and compete."

"First there are the internal matches within each sect to pick the top three, who then compete against the top three from other sects, and finally three winners are chosen. The victors receive the blessing of the True Deity their sect worships, enhancing their fortune."

He Zhuoming was puzzled. "But isn't this... the Lord of Pear Palace's Divine Palace? You're fighting in an Earth Immortal's divine palace, and if you win you get blessings from other True Deities? Can other True Deities even enter an Earth Immortal's divine palace?"

Xu Feixian: "...You really don't know anything?"

He Zhuoming blinked. "Know what?"

Xu Feixian: "The Day of Divine Celebration, also called the Ten Days of Karma Cleansing. During this time, the nine True Deities gather in the divine palace of one of them."

He Zhuoming: "True Deities have staff meetings too?"

Xu Feixian: "I don't understand what you're talking about. The True Deities gather periodically to supervise each other's karma, so that none of them loses their way and becomes a Corrupted Deity."

"True Deities are already powerful. If one falls and becomes a Corrupted Deity, it would cause a tragedy with a million corpses across the land."

She glanced at He Zhuoming, her brow slightly furrowed. After a hesitant moment, she still spoke: "If you've only recently joined the Pear Garden, you should find an excuse to leave soon and join another sect."

He Zhuoming: "...Why?"

Xu Feixian wouldn't explain. She looked out the window and only said it was getting late, telling He Zhuoming to leave quickly.

Upon learning that He Zhuoming didn't know the way at all, Xu Feixian was speechless for a while, but eventually she personally guided her, taking her to the area near the main hall of the Divine Palace.

Xu Feixian said stiffly, "Further ahead is a place I can't go. You go on by yourself."

He Zhuoming nodded, waved at Xu Feixian, and walked off—but after only a few steps, she suddenly turned and ran back, asking eagerly, "Oh, right! When are you competing? Can I come watch?"

Xu Feixian was caught off guard, then answered a beat late, "The day after tomorrow... at the eastern courtyard arena. Come if you want. I don't care."

He Zhuoming: "Then fight well. If you win, I'll treat you to a meal."

Xu Feixian: "...Mm."

He Zhuoming waved at her again, repeating her earlier farewell, then turned and bounded off.

The night was clear, and the moonlight was hazy.

He Zhuoming curled up in bed, rolling around in pain.

When she'd arrived during the day, she hadn't felt much, but by nightfall the dull ache in her lower abdomen grew stronger and stronger, and soon she completely lost any desire to sleep.

The menstrual cloth was uncomfortable, the cramps were uncomfortable, and being alone was uncomfortable too. She felt so wronged that tears started falling, and then she found she couldn't stop crying. Afraid of dehydration, she struggled up and poured herself a large cup of hot water.

The water in the bedroom kettle was always kept warm—probably the same principle as the rooms that could move around at will.

He Zhuoming drank the hot water and then leaned over the table, holding the cup, staring blankly into space.

The occasional jolt of pain in her lower abdomen left her no desire to sleep, but with the period-pain debuff, she had no interest in doing anything else either. As for weekend homework, of course He Zhuoming had long since completely forgotten it.

Suddenly, she remembered what Li Shui had told her during the day—through the stairs that went upward at the back, everything could be resolved.

Would it work for period cramps?

What exactly was at the end of those stairs? It sounded so mysterious.

But Li Shui had said those were words Lin Qingyun left for her... Thinking it was Lin Qingyun's instruction, He Zhuoming felt there shouldn't be any danger.

She slipped on an outer robe, picked up the candlestick from her room, and stepped outside. The moonlight mingled with the candlelight in her hand, casting the shadows of the crabapple trees beside the corridor swaying against the doors and windows.

The stairs soon appeared in He Zhuoming's view: barely two meters wide, with paper lanterns placed every few steps on either side.

The lanterns came in different shapes—butterflies, carp, and oddly grimacing green-faced demons—but they all burned with light, illuminating the crabapple blossoms blooming on both sides and overhead with striking clarity.

Walking up the stairs, He Zhuoming looked up and could only see layers upon layers of crabapple blossoms; even the night sky and the moon were hidden. She was carefree, only noticing that it was cold here, not paying attention to the fact that only her own shadow fell on the stairs, while the crabapple trees on either side cast no shadows at all.

The stairs were much shorter than He Zhuoming had imagined. In no time at all, she saw the exit—covered by the flowers and leaves of the crabapple trees. She had to set down the candlestick and crawl through the foliage.

She didn't realize her lower abdomen had stopped hurting.

Clusters of fragrant crabapple blossoms brushed past her cheeks, their branches loosely tangling in her hair and clothes, leaving a heavy fragrance of crabapple on her.

Before her eyes appeared a pure white room.

A wide room so white it nearly gave one snow blindness. There were no decorations at all, only a youth in red sitting in the very center.

The youth sat cross-legged, head bowed, both hands resting on his lap, holding a white candle in his palms.

The candle was lit, a wisp of pale blue smoke drifting upward, but there was no scent of candle smoke in the room at all. Only the long string of beads hanging by the youth's left ear quietly refracted the candlelight, twinkling like stars.

He Zhuoming walked up to him, crouched down in front of him, and leaned in on both hands to get a closer look—it was indeed Lin Qingyun, no mistake, though his eyes were bound with white silk.

He sat completely motionless like that. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or what.

He Zhuoming didn't dare touch him rashly. She called softly, "Lin Qingyun? Lin Qingyun, Lin Qingyun, Lin Qingyun, Lin Qingyun—"

The silent youth, still as a statue, suddenly raised his head, a smile curling at the corners of his lips, his voice as gentle and harmless as ever: "Xiao He, I'm not deaf. I can hear you. No need to call so many times."

He Zhuoming brightened at once. "You're not deaf? That's good! You were sitting there so still, I was worried you'd reached some critical point in your cultivation... What happened to your eyes? Why did you suddenly wrap them up?"

Lin Qingyun smiled. "A small problem. Temporary."

He Zhuoming waved her hand in front of his eyes. "Can you see right now?"

Lin Qingyun said mildly, "Xiao He, I've bandaged my own eyes. What do you think?"

He Zhuoming didn't catch the sarcasm. She thought for a moment, then said in an encouraging tone, "I think you probably can see?"

Lin Qingyun laughed—not a faint smile, but a bright, open laugh that clearly showed his dimples and rabbit teeth.

He laughed because what Xiao He said was genuinely amusing, and because it had been years since he'd spoken to a living person. He remembered the feel of crabapple blossoms brushing her cheeks and hair when she came in.

Lin Qingyun answered casually, "I can't see for now, but it'll recover once the Day of Divine Celebration ends."

He Zhuoming: "Why?"

Lin Qingyun smiled. "A secret. Can't tell Xiao He."

He Zhuoming scrunched up her face. "Is why you're here also a secret?"

Lin Qingyun nodded, then added, "And I can't leave. But don't worry, I won't forget to help you find a way home."

He Zhuoming let out a long sigh, sat down cross-legged across from him, cupped her cheeks in her hands, and said with concern, "Are you not feeling well? Last time you suddenly lost your voice, and this time you suddenly went blind."