Chapter 72: The Lonely Heart Returned Part 1

Feng Rong’s corpse was indeed underwater. The foliage crawling out of her seven orifices had grown increasingly dense, threatening to weave a permanent shroud around her.

She looked like a cocoon, yet this was a cocoon that promised no rebirth; it could only serve as her eternal tomb.

It was these very branches that had snagged onto something left behind by a predecessor, causing her to hang suspended in the water like drifting duckweed.

Usually, a body submerged for so long would have become bloated and pale. Yet, she remained looking like a living person. Aside from the lush foliage wrapping around her entire body, she looked no different than she had before death.

Sang Chencao swam ahead, pointing to signal the way. Her hair floated like seaweed, making her look every bit the part of an underwater demon.

Feng Yun’ai kicked forward, intending to shatter the branches with a palm strike. Before she could strike, her arm was pulled with a gentle yet firm grip by the person beside her.

A sword shadow flashed. The tightly wound branches turned into flying debris, scattering through the water.

Moving in water was nothing like moving on land; it was difficult to wield a sword, and even manifesting sword qi required double the internal power. Yet, Sang Chencao seemed to do it with effortless grace.

Without hesitation, Feng Yun’ai swam over and gathered the floating corpse into her arms. She looked at Sang Chencao, silently asking where the exit was.

Sang Chencao raised her arm to signal and swam into the distance to lead the way. Before long, she found another tunnel cut through the mountain rock below.

The waterway was long and winding, with occasional forks. If one took a wrong turn by accident, the path ahead would be blocked, forcing them to circle back to the start.

This wasn’t an intentionally designed maze. Looking at the rough, crude ends of the dead paths, it was clear these were simply mistakes made during the original excavation.

Presumably, it had been difficult to find the right direction. The workers must have endured immense hardships to dig a path to survival, eventually breaking through to where the vortex lay.

Fortunately, the two women possessed excellent luck and internal power to sustain them; even holding their breath for a long period wouldn’t exhaust them.

Having practiced martial arts for years, both were extremely sensitive to subtle changes. They could easily distinguish the flow of the water.

Feng Yun’ai was even more sensitive now. Her half-body of new skin could detect even the slightest ripple of a water wave brushing against her.

Suddenly sensing something unusual, Feng Yun’ai hurriedly raised her arm to block Sang Chencao’s path. She gave a pointed look at a fork in the tunnel and kicked off toward the left.

Sang Chencao followed closely, slicing through the entangling water weeds as they went.

Sure enough, after traveling for a moment, fine white bubbles darted past in a dense string, appearing to lead the way.

Feng Yun’ai couldn’t see clearly and mistook them for pearls or jade. She reached out to grab them, only to catch nothing.

As they drew closer, the white pearls in the water grew denser and floated more rapidly, clearly being sucked in by a force.

Feng Yun’ai looked up and saw a vortex blocking the junction in the distance. She paused for a heartbeat, tightened her hold on Feng Rong, and kicked her legs to dive into the center.

The world spun. For a moment, she felt as if she had lost her senses again, wandering in a daze, unsure of where she was.

The muffled sound of water had originally filled her ears. Then, as she was swept somewhere by a sudden push of a wave, a loud rushing sound roared in her ears.

Feng Yun’ai snapped her eyes open. Everything before her was a blinding white.

It had been pitch black in the cave; now, with the bright sun directly overhead, she couldn’t even fully open her eyes. She couldn’t see her surroundings at all.

Thankfully, she hadn’t let go. Feng Rong’s body was still in her arms, though her own arms were now so sore and weary that she could barely hold on.

At least they were on the surface. The shore should be right next to them.

Feng Yun’ai looked around. She could vaguely see the silhouettes of distant mountains. Everything before her eyes had become a painting of splashed ink, where she could only distinguish between light and dark shades.

A hand suddenly reached out, grabbing her arm to lead her away. She swam along with the pull. Only when she got closer did she realize that the gray patch ahead was a cluster of jagged rocks on the shore.

“We’re on land, Xiuxiu.” Sang Chencao lay on her back against the rocks, breathing heavily as she spoke.

Feng Yun’ai finally released Feng Rong. She instinctively raised a hand to rub her eyes, but no matter how much she rubbed, the world remained like looking at flowers through a fog—vast, blurry, and indistinct.

The turbulent river rolled eastward. Who would have thought that the secret waterway was hidden so deep beneath it?

“Where is this?” Feng Yun’ai sat up. She was soaked through. Her gaze struggled to focus, looking as if her very eyes were submerged in water.

Sang Chencao looked left and right while remaining flat on her back. Her breathing had leveled out significantly. She said in surprise, “Perhaps the southern outskirts of Cloud City. From here, you can see the Archive atop Listening Goose Peak, though it’s only the size of my fingernail.”

Feng Yun’ai also wanted to see the Archive on Listening Goose Peak, but the green mountains were a blurred mess. She couldn’t even distinguish distance, let alone find the peak.

Sang Chencao pinched Feng Yun’ai’s index finger and pointed it toward the peak, saying leisurely, “Where your fingertip points, that is the Archive.”

Even though she couldn’t see it or touch it, hearing those words made Feng Yun’ai feel as if Listening Goose Peak truly sat beneath her finger.

Sang Chencao circulated her internal power to dry her clothes, then helped Feng Yun’ai do the same. Once they were dry, she reluctantly used her power to ward off the chill from Feng Rong’s body as well.

Feng Yun’ai stood up. “I want to bury Master on Listening Goose Peak.”

Feng Rong had originally been on Listening Goose Peak, but her body had never been laid in the earth. That secret chamber had been far too hidden, as if it were never meant to see the light of day.

“I don’t know who is guarding Listening Goose Peak now. We’ll have to visit the Dieshan Alliance.” Sang Chencao let out a cold sneer before correcting herself. “I forgot, the Dieshan Alliance has already collapsed. How pitiful—established for less than a month, and all that lifeblood has gone down the drain.”

“It’s the Hantian Alliance now,” Feng Yun’ai muttered as she fumbled to hoist Feng Rong’s body onto her back. After a moment, aside from her eyes not being quite as sharp, she no longer looked like a half-blind person.

“True, the Hantian Alliance.” Sang Chencao took Feng Yun’ai’s arm and kicked off with her lightness skill. Her movements were like a swimming dragon, as graceful as a startled swan.