Chapter 154

Cultivators could live on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, breathing it in to sustain themselves.

Mortals, who knew no such techniques, relied on eating flesh, fruits, and grains that themselves drew on the world's spiritual energy for nourishment.

Here, the spiritual energy was too sparse to keep them going, so eating was unavoidable.

Qing Zhouxue had only just recovered, her body utterly drained, leaning lifelessly against the hollow of the tree. She'd never run a fever before, and now she felt light-headed and heavy-footed, as if her soul had drifted away. For the first time, she understood how miserable such an ailment could be.

Yun Shuchen watched Qing Zhouxue's face grow pale with hunger, then could only look up at the fruit on the tree—a cluster of vivid green. She had no idea what kind they were or whether they were edible.

But the bigger problem was... she couldn't reach them.

Yun Shuchen eyed them in silence, then lowered her head and scanned the ground.

Grass.

Shrubs and undergrowth.

An endless expanse of green, grass blanketing the mountains, but not a sign of any living creature.

Yun Shuchen even walked to the water's edge to inspect it in the dim light. Sure enough, a few small fish darted about, seemingly within reach but quite nimble. When she dipped her hand into the cold water, the fish slipped through her fingers every time she moved.

Qing Zhouxue steadied herself against the ground and stood, her steps still unsteady.

She cast a glance at her master, who sat in silence before the fish, and couldn't help but sigh softly.

With all those years of sword practice, even without spiritual power, she still had some martial skill.

Qing Zhouxue hugged the tree trunk and slowly climbed up bit by bit. Her head was still spinning, so she didn't dare move too quickly for fear of tumbling down.

Yun Shuchen heard the rustling of leaves behind her. When she turned around, she froze—Qing Zhouxue had somehow already clung to the tree.

Qing Zhouxue pressed against a branch, reaching for the fruit, swaying dangerously, enough to make one's heart leap. Some ripe ones fell after being shaken, while others, still green, were plucked and thrown to the ground.

She retreated just as slowly, her feet firm on the earth, but her body wobbled like a reflection in water, and Yun Shuchen hurriedly steadied her.

The two picked up a few ripe ones.

Qing Zhouxue tried biting into one, and the moment her teeth closed, they nearly got stuck in the tough skin. After forcing down a piece, it was sour and astringent, hard to swallow.

"Seems... edible."

But the sourness made her brows knit tight.

Yun Shuchen also frowned, gripping the hard fruit in her hand, utterly without appetite.

She looked out at the lush greenery, feeling a deep helplessness for the first time. She steeled herself and took a small bite. "Not sure if it's poisonous. Eat only a little."

Qing Zhouxue nodded. That one bite flooded her mouth with sourness and bitterness—far from delicious—but she could feel her body stir slightly, like withered wood meeting spring water.

The burning sensation gradually eased.

Seemed edible.

Qing Zhouxue was about to grab another when her peripheral vision caught Yun Shuchen lowering her head, seemingly suppressing something. The deep wound on her abdomen had not yet fully healed. Earlier, moving Qing Zhouxue had required some effort, and it appeared to be threatening to split open again.

"Master, don't move these next few days."

Meeting her disciple's worried gaze, Yun Shuchen knew she couldn't be of much help, so she murmured an acknowledgment and obediently leaned back into the wind-sheltered tree hollow.

She had barely rested these past two days. Leaning back, she half-closed her eyes, drowsy. Half-asleep, she felt Qing'er placing some dried grass over her. Yun Shuchen abruptly opened her eyes wide and said with distaste, "...Dirty."

Qing Zhouxue paused, then took off her tattered outer robe and laid it over her, forming a barrier before continuing to pile up the dried grass.

Yun Shuchen looked up at her slight figure, then pulled the robe out and tossed it back. "Forget it, just leave it."

"Master, I'll go find more food." Qing Zhouxue picked up the robe but didn't put it back on.

Yun Shuchen's brows furrowed slightly. "You... don't go too far."

Qing Zhouxue nodded. She turned, parted the tangled grass, and moved forward slowly, step by step, scanning the ground.

In the profound silence, any sound was jarring.

Qing Zhouxue seemed to hear a rustle. The grass stirred. In the dim light, when she made out the coiled shape on the ground, her pupils contracted.

A snake tail twitched.

Then it slipped back into the grass and vanished.

If only she had a sword, her next meal would be secured.

Qing Zhouxue felt a pang of regret and swallowed. The Qingshuang Sword was still at the Liuyun Sect. For now, only her bare hands were available, which was quite inconvenient, and if she got poisoned, it would only make matters worse.

Searching around like this, she found only some grass seeds, not even a mouthful.

Nothing else.

When the last glimmer of light died out, Qing Zhouxue returned to the tree hollow to find Yun Shuchen wide awake.

She lifted her lashes, looking innocent. "The fruit is gone. I'm too hungry to sleep."

These past days since falling into the forest, the former glamour had faded, leaving only a mess of misery.

"Qing'er... I wonder when they'll come. Perhaps tomorrow we should try heading toward a place with light."

"But," Qing Zhouxue said softly, "Master, your abdomen is still wounded. Can you really walk?"

Yun Shuchen let out a bitter laugh. "If we stay here, in a few days we might not be able to walk at all."

Qing Zhouxue fell silent for a moment. She walked to the water's edge, fumbled around in the dark, and finally gathered some sharp stone flakes.

That night, she stayed up without rest, ceaselessly grinding the stones.

Yun Shuchen leaned nearby, listening to the faint scraping sounds, until a hint of light once again enveloped Qing Zhouxue by the creek.

Yun Shuchen saw that she now held a stone knife, seemingly prepared to go hunting.

She called softly, "Come with me."

The forest was shadowed, and birds chirped.

In the past, she'd thought the little birds' singing pleasant, like maidens crooning clear-voiced ditties.

But when one is starving, that sound only whets the appetite—thoughts jumping from bird song to bird meat, and from bird meat to a grand feast of meat and fish. At such times, the vast world reduced itself to only two categories: the edible and the inedible.

For days on end, the only proper food had been wild fruit—the hard, juiceless kind.

Yun Shuchen had barely walked a few steps when she felt dizzy. She leaned against a trunk, a wave of nausea rising, dry-heaving for a long time without bringing anything up.

Her stomach burned, then began to ache.

Qing Zhouxue quickly steadied her master. At the same time, she suddenly stopped short.

She looked up at the treetop, her gaze fixed on it. A bird's nest perched there, with a few round eggs lying inside.

The treetop wasn't very high.

Qing Zhouxue rose on her toes, groping to part a layer of soft down, and gathered the still-warm eggs into her palm.

She immediately gripped Yun Shuchen's hand tightly.

Heaven never seals off all exits.

But this stroke of luck didn't last long. Other than those few eggs, there was nothing more to be found.

"No fire." Yun Shuchen held one, cupping it in her palm.

"Perhaps we'll have to eat them raw," Qing Zhouxue said seriously. "Eggs should... be all right."

Perhaps she had overestimated her master's constitution.

Yun Shuchen, with an inexpressible look, cracked one open and swallowed, suppressing the fishy taste. At the time, there was no problem.

But come nightfall, the fishiness had yet to settle. Her stomach cramped, and in the end, she couldn't bear it, crouching by the creek and coughing it all up.

It was quite alarming—the bits of wild fruit from these past days came up as well. When the coughing finally subsided, flecks of blood appeared, making things worse than before.

After all that effort, Yun Shuchen was left with no strength whatsoever, her face a shocking pale.

She leaned listlessly against Qing Zhouxue's shoulder and gave a low laugh. "Famine years truly are hard. To experience one in a lifetime counts for something."

Qing Zhouxue said nothing.

Yun Shuchen leaned against her and dozed off. Her body was weak, and now each sleep lasted longer than the last.

Half-dreaming, something dripped onto her lips.

When she tasted a cloying, salty-iron sweetness, Yun Shuchen opened her eyes in shock.

Qing Zhouxue had driven the tip of the stone knife into her wrist and left it there, preventing the wound from healing.

She clenched her fist with one hand, forcing out a steady, pulsing line of blood that dripped in sporadic beads, staining Yun Shuchen's lips.

Yun Shuchen suddenly grew angry. She shoved Qing Zhouxue away, and a few drops of crimson fell to the ground, splattering against the grass tips with a soft patter.

"Is your life really so worthless?"

Qing Zhouxue froze, lowering her hand. "You were hungry, and I couldn't find food."

"Neither can you." Yun Shuchen's brows knitted slightly.

"Lightning and fire can't kill me." Qing Zhouxue forced a smile at her.

The smile didn't look truly at ease, rather like it was squeezed out.

Yun Shuchen turned her head aside, not looking at her. For some reason, a glistening sheen of tears wet the corner of her eye—just a hint, which she hid by lowering her lashes.

She pulled the knife out and flung it to the ground. She watched Qing Zhouxue's wrist close up quickly.

She stroked Qing Zhouxue's hand and could only say softly, "...Tomorrow will be better."

*

Tomorrow, tomorrow wasn't much better.

Neither of them had ever survived in the wild. Qing Zhouxue tried to make fire by rubbing two sticks together, but even with maximum effort, she could only coax out some faint ash, with not a single spark of flame.

No fire, no warmth.

Any attempt at more raw food came with risk. That day, Yun Shuchen's retching was agonizing, and after coughing so long, her throat seemed to taste of blood.

Qing Zhouxue thought of that shocking streak of red and frowned deeply. She braced a foot against a dry, rotting log and rubbed the two sticks back and forth in her hands, trying to drill a hole into it.

The wild fruit on the trees dwindled one by one. The ripe ones were gone; the astringent ones had been gnawed. Now she was starting to eye the leaves, wondering if they were edible.

Qing Zhouxue tried for a long time, using different pieces of wood, grinding bit by bit.

Yun Shuchen could see her posture hadn't changed.

Finally, as the daylight faded completely, a wisp of spark emerged.

She froze at first, then barely dared to breathe. Carefully, she laid that bit of ash onto the dried grass. A faint flame flickered up, and Qing Zhouxue shielded it with her palm, lest the wind put it out.

Yet she always got stuck at this step.

She managed to produce sparks, but each time, before the flames could catch, they fizzled out abruptly, as if mocking her.

This time...

Qing Zhouxue held her breath, not daring to make a sound, her eyes fixed on that small sprout of flame.

The light in her eyes flickered, like twinkling stars, as if on the verge of sinking into darkness.