Sang Chencao stopped trying to break the seal on her meridians and composed herself. “There were many spectators then, though they didn’t dare approach for fear of being caught in the crossfire. Rumors spread through the Jianghu that Wen Lanxin’s sword was like purple fire, and those she had wounded before were all stricken by frost. It was feared to be the result of poison on the blade.”
She paused, raising an eyebrow. “However, the Battle of the Cauldron Sea lasted three days. Throughout that time, the purple light on the blade never faded. People began to guess that it wasn’t a coating, but rather that the blacksmith had forged an eternal, undying poison directly into the steel.”
“More baseless speculation. Stories from twenty years ago always change over time.” Feng Yun’ai scanned her surroundings. It was still silent; there was no sign of where Wen Lanxin had gone.
“In that case, you might as well ask the person who gave you the sword.” Sang Chencao was utterly certain. “After the Battle of the Cauldron Sea, Feng Rong dove into the water many times. Who knows if she was trying to recover the blade? But Wen Lanxin simply threw it away and left. From that day on, Wen Lanxin never used a sword again. She used only gold and silver needles, earning her the title of ‘Soul-Shattering Needle.'”
Feng Yun’ai had lived in seclusion for a long time. Aside from what she heard from those around her, her only knowledge of the world came from books. Since the books didn’t mention this, she naturally didn’t know.
After a long silence, Feng Yun’ai gave a faint, cold huff. She stopped playing games and spoke directly. “Since you know so much, are you Wen Lanxin’s disciple?”
The smile remained on Sang Chencao’s face as she countered, “Are you Feng Rong’s disciple?”
“Feng Rong is different from me. She would never loan out a blade,” Feng Yun’ai said, her expression unchanging.
“Is that so?” Sang Chencao didn’t bother exposing the lie about the “loaned blade” further. She turned around. “Let’s go back to the bamboo building. We might find a trace of Wen Lanxin there. But as for that Spirit-Awakening Powder, I don’t think you’ll find it here.”
From her tone, it sounded as if the indigo-clothed woman truly didn’t know where Wen Lanxin was.
Fortunately, the woman’s acupoints were sealed, so Feng Yun’ai didn’t fear her running away. Since she intended to check the bamboo building anyway, she said, “Don’t try any tricks. You are under my control. If I take your life, do you think Wen Lanxin will show herself?”
“Probably not. Otherwise, she would be standing before you right now.” Even when threatened with death, Sang Chencao showed no reaction, as if she truly didn’t fear the end.
Feng Yun’ai remained silent. She realized she couldn’t begin to fathom the mind of such a devious person.
The area at the base of Yellow Sand Cliff was small. Aside from the bamboo building and the cave, there were no other places to refine medicine or store items—unless one were to tear up all the vegetation and dig ten feet deep.
But Feng Yun’ai had looked closely; the soil beneath the plants wasn’t fresh. There were no signs of recent digging.
Inside the bamboo building, aside from some medicinal powders and daily necessities, they found nothing else.
Feng Yun’ai entered the master bedroom, which she assumed belonged to Wen Lanxin, and searched it thoroughly.
There were no unusual objects, but she did find a prescription on the table, held down by a paperweight. It was a narrow strip of paper, pressed so flat it was easy to miss.
The prescription on the paper…
It wasn’t finished.
She could tell at a glance because the final character was left with only a single stroke.
Feng Yun’ai picked up the paper to examine it. She had expected some secret technique, but to her surprise, she could actually understand the formula.
It wasn’t that rare; it was a prescription for “calming the heart.” However, because the ingredients were extremely difficult to obtain, it didn’t circulate much in the Jianghu.
Someone approached from behind—Sang Chencao.
Sang Chencao also paused, then whispered in Feng Yun’ai’s ear, “This is a Mind-Settling Pill. The final ingredient should be Water-Marsh Fragrance. That can only be found in the Central Plains.”
“She has a heart condition?” Feng Yun’ai frowned.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Sang Chencao still refused to admit any relationship with Wen Lanxin, maintaining her air of detachment.
Feng Yun’ai looked at the other prescriptions on the table; all of them were complete. She turned back and asked, “Why would she leave this one unfinished?”
Sang Chencao smiled. “Perhaps she wanted to tell someone… that she’s gone to the Central Plains.”
“Could it be she really is interested in the Hero Recruitment Meet?” Feng Yun’ai speculated coldly.
“Impossible.” Sang Chencao’s eyes were like a snake’s, and she let out a cold laugh. “She is not the type to chase after fame and reputation. If she were, she wouldn’t have abandoned her sword back then and let people look down on her.”
Feng Yun’ai didn’t believe her.
Sang Chencao continued, “You came all this way, went through all this trouble… it wasn’t for a ‘loan’ at all. You knew this sword once belonged to Wen Lanxin. You came to the Listening Moon Sand River and intentionally revealed the blade in front of me just to lure Wen Lanxin out, didn’t you?”
Feng Yun’ai’s gaze was icy.
“The Martial Alliance is about to fall into chaos, the Jianghu is about to fall into chaos…” Sang Chencao murmured to herself, before her words turned sharp. “Has something happened to Feng Rong?”
