Chapter 160

In the Jialuo Palace.

Yun Shuchen reclined on a chaise lounge, a plate of grapes before her. She peeled them slowly, faint traces of pale purple staining her fingertips as though she had dipped them into the evening glow.

Fan Yin sat in the hall, discussing the current battle situation in detail. She paused after every sentence, and only continued once she saw no objection from Yun Shuchen.

Yun Shuchen had not spoken a single word from start to finish.

Fan Yin concealed her surprise as she stole a glance at her aunt's face.

Yun Shuchen's eyes were half-lidded, serene and composed, showing neither impatience nor displeasure. Fan Yin even felt that she was simply lost in thought, completely oblivious to everything around her.

She just peeled her grapes, and when she finished, she didn't eat them, tossing them into a small separate dish.

Her aunt's spirits had been low for several days now, indifferent to all matters, and there was no telling when she would recover. Fan Yin gave a bitter smile. Yet here she was, cleaning up the mess, facing the most powerful sect of all.

The emperor is not anxious, but the eunuch is.

Though noble as a ruler, she was now the frantic little eunuch dancing on hot coals.

When everyone had dispersed, Fan Yin sat down beside her and asked tentatively, "Aunt, now that you're back... what about that one?"

Yun Shuchen's gaze remained still. "Which one?"

"The little immortal of the Taichu Sect. Your disciple." Fan Yin added silently, the one who's always by your side.

Yun Shuchen set down the grape, seeming to want to speak but hesitating. In the end, she said nothing. She lazily closed her eyes, but her brows furrowed slightly. "The little immortal of the Taichu Sect naturally stays in the Taichu Sect."

Her expression was calm, but in truth, she had been suffering through endless torment these past few days.

She suspected that the slap she had given her had been too hard, or perhaps slightly off-target, and she didn't know if it had damaged her foundation.

She worried whether she was doing well alone, after all, none of those junior uncles of hers were gentle or attentive enough to care for others.

Beyond that, lingering and recurring, Yun Shuchen feared that she resented her. After all, that foolish girl had come to her with Starfire, full of joy, only to be sent flying by a single palm strike. Qing Zhouxue's stunned and bewildered expression was like a sharp thorn piercing deep into Yun Shuchen's heart.

But she had no other choice. She couldn't bring Qing Zhouxue back to the Demon Realm to live.

Qinger was born for immortal cultivation; the Demon Realm would never truly accept her. At best, out of respect for Yun Shuchen, they would treat her with grudging courtesy.

But if one day her tribulation failed and she lost her life... Qing Zhouxue could neither return to the immortal sects nor blend into the Demon Realm, left utterly alone.

When that time came, who would protect her?

Yun Shuchen thought of the Taichu Sect and felt somewhat more at ease.

Seeing her aunt's poor complexion, Fan Yin deftly changed the subject. "Aunt, concerning the inner core of the Nascent Soul beast you asked us to find... we've only located a cultivator's inner core. Would that serve as a substitute?"

A cultivator's inner core?

More karmic sin piled up.

This wretched niece of hers must be wishing the Thunder Tribulation would strike her dead.

Yun Shuchen shook her head, her expression growing colder.

Fan Yin swallowed her words, not understanding why Yun Shuchen wanted the inner core, nor what she had said wrong. In any case, her aunt's mood was unpredictable—likely not because of the war, but because that little immortal wasn't by her side.

When that woman was in a bad mood, Fan Yin had to tread even more carefully.

Fan Yin silently walked out, her mind racing. Perhaps... I could go to the Taichu Sect and snatch that girl away.

The idea came and was immediately discarded.

A Sword Soul was not so easy to seize. She couldn't do it, and there was no need to provoke the Taichu Sect's wrath again.

If she couldn't seize her, then what? Fan Yin paced a few turns, then suddenly clapped her palms together. Anyway... there's no shortage of beautiful women here.

That night, Yun Shuchen lost sleep again. Just as she began to drift into drowsiness, she felt a pair of soft, delicate hands touch her shoulders.

She turned over, her irritation at being disturbed still fresh, and came face to face with a beautiful demon woman. Under Yun Shuchen's eerie gaze, the woman seemed somewhat shy and called out softly, "Milord, you are truly beautiful."

The next moment, the door flew open, then slammed shut with a bang. A figure tumbled out of the room, looking utterly dejected.

Yun Shuchen buried herself under the soft bedding, taking a deep breath to drive away the scent of that other person, and only then could she endure the long night, half awake and half dreaming.

Whenever she grew quiet, she would recall many distant things. Her own. Qing Zhouxue's. Hers and Qing Zhouxue's. Each memory was like a bronze coin tossed onto the abacus of her heart, clanging loudly in some corner.

She passed her days counting these things.

Perhaps because she felt her end might truly be near—when facing life and death, whether she could topple the Liuyun Sect or ferret out that old ancestor to uncover the truth of the past...

These matters she had brooded over for so long now failed to stir even a flicker of interest.

She even felt dazedly that what she had once held so heavily had now, after waking from the golden dream, been gently set down.

Still, she wanted to see her once more.

Yun Shuchen clenched the bedding in her hand.

Just one look.

*

That night, she swept over the Demon Realm's layers of hellfire, braved the wind and sand, crossed the snow-clad Beiyuan Mountain, skirted around the smoke-enshrouded Liuyun Sect, and finally stopped before the Taichu Sect.

In the night breeze, Heyi Peak stood like a crane perched by the river, half its body clad in frosty white feathers, half wrapped in a dark cloak.

Yun Shuchen landed on the peak, her steps light, almost silent.

She could sense Qing Zhouxue's presence—close, very close.

Her disciple was not in the largest bedroom but seemed to have hidden away in that small room she had chosen for herself many years ago.

Yun Shuchen walked to the door and gently pressed her palm against it, smiling softly. The lamps inside had been extinguished, so Qinger must be sleeping soundly by now.

With a bit of care, she pushed at the door. At first, she thought she hadn't used enough force, for the door didn't budge.

She paused, then raised her hand again.

A barrier stood firmly in place, sealing the outside from the inside as two separate worlds.

Yun Shuchen's hand rested on the door's carved patterns, frozen for a moment before she drew a long, rolled letter from the gap in the wooden planks.

She seemed to have anticipated something, her hand trembling slightly as she unrolled it.

【Master:

May this letter find you well.

Recently, I have seen too much blood, and I feel, vaguely, that I am losing control. My Dao heart is not yet stable, and Uncle Liu suggested I rest quietly for a year. During this year, I do not intend to waste time; it is a perfect opportunity to go into seclusion and cultivate.

That day at the Sword Tomb, I knew you were only putting on a show for others. I have never blamed you, so do not dwell on it too much.

Perhaps many things can only truly awaken us once we experience them. There are other insights I will share with you in detail when I emerge from seclusion.

Thinking you might come, I have entrusted some belongings with Uncle Liu. Seek her out to retrieve them.

The Demon Realm's climate differs from the Taichu Sect—hot and humid, prone to causing internal heat. Drink tea often in the afternoons. The spring mountain smile you usually favor is not advisable; it is bitter and cold, and though it quenches thirst, it can harm the body. Though cultivators need no sleep, since you are accustomed to it, you should still rest at night and rise during the day, keeping to a regular schedule. Do not indulge in coolness at night; since your body has improved, you've grown careless with your blanket. Wartime brings many affairs; balance work and rest above all. Unless it is absolutely necessary, Master, do not go to the front to fight bitterly with them.

I write a thousand lines, scattered and incomplete. Other details I cannot recall all at once. Master, you must be good to yourself.

Wish you health and long-lasting joy.

Peace year after year.

Qing

Left on the fourth day of the first month】

Qing Zhouxue's letters had always been concise, rarely so long-winded. The characters were packed densely together, as if they might burst through the thin paper at any moment.

Yun Shuchen's hand tightened sharply on the paper, then slowly smoothed out the creases, as though caressing the face of a loved one.

Until it was finally smooth and flat.

But her hand fell limply.

Yun Shuchen leaned her back against the door, clutching the letter, and slowly slid down to sit on the step. Breaking out of seclusion rashly would harm her foundation; she thought she probably wouldn't be able to see her this year.

That night, a light rain began to fall, dripping onto the steps. Yun Shuchen, leaning against the door, found herself unexpectedly drowsy. She dozed lightly for a while, and when she opened her eyes again, a puddle of water had gathered at her feet.

A faint glimmer of dawn had already appeared in the sky.

She breathed out a white puff of mist, only then feeling the bone-deep chill. Frost had condensed on her lashes.

She glanced down inadvertently, and the puddle of water mirrored her current appearance—this face, after five hundred years of seasons, was still in its prime.

But Yun Shuchen caught a glint of silver. She took that strand of hair and pulled it out.

A strand of black hair, now as white as frost.

Yun Shuchen's breath hitched.

She tensed up entirely, hastily conjuring a water mirror, examining her brows and the corners of her eyes closely. Then she cupped one side of her face like a rare treasure, her gaze searching slightly frantically, and spotted what seemed to be a fine line at the corner of her eye—suddenly feeling as if she couldn't breathe.

It was merely a ripple on the water's surface.

When the ripples settled, her appearance was as before, her skin as smooth and tender as ever.

Yun Shuchen gradually calmed down. For a moment, she didn't know what she was doing. Stunned, she lowered her hand, and recalled the words Qinger had written so casually.

"I will share other insights with you in detail when I emerge from seclusion."

Yun Shuchen stood up, her whole body aching, and couldn't help but let out a sigh. Her mind raced through other possible solutions. Finding another beast inner core now was a distant hope, and she might as well go ask Liu Xunqin.

Regardless, she wanted to wait until the day she emerged from seclusion.

She cast one last glance at the tightly shut door, then, as the letter instructed, went to see Liu Xunqin, curious as to what her disciple might have left for her.

Liu Xunqin, however, showed no surprise at seeing her, as if Yun Shuchen had never left the Taichu Sect at all.

After listening to her request, Liu Xunqin pointed to a porcelain container on the table. Inside, a lotus flower bloomed gracefully, as red as blood.

"The Immortal Ascension Assembly. The Crimson Heart Lotus your disciple won. She said it was for you. I've been keeping it for a while; it's growing quite well."

"Crimson Heart Lotus?"

Yun Shuchen was not deeply versed in spiritual plants. The name sounded vaguely familiar; Qing Zhouxue must have mentioned it by her ear a few times.

But by then, her body had mostly recovered, and there were no other hidden worries, so she hadn't paid much attention.

Liu Xunqin looked at her, her expression still indifferent: "That child worked so hard for years, battling through thorns to obtain this lotus. Surely you don't know nothing at all?"