Chapter 39: The Water Theft (2) Part 2

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Yun Jinxue felt as if she had fallen asleep in deep winter. Because it had been so cold. So cold that she believed she was lying in a snowfield, frozen stiff, allowing the heavy snow to gradually bury her as her drowsiness deepened.

But now, it felt as though she’d come into spring. Her nose caught a fresh, pure scent. There was the non-irritating buzz of voices near her ears. She was nestled in a pocket of warmth, as if soaking in a hot spring, feeling the steam curl around her and her entire body feeling wonderfully loose and comfortable.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a blinding, flamboyant red. Then, someone gently turned her head, and she met a pair of eyes filled with soft, rippling waves. “Senior Sister is awake?”

The buzzing voices nearby went quiet. A clatter, as someone tossed something aside. A pitter-patter of scrambling limbs, and a figure scrambled over to bend over her with a smile. “You’re awake!”

Yun Jinxue blinked. The hazy fuzziness of her consciousness slowly settled back into place. She realized she was lying on a woven mat, her head pillowed on the crook of Jiang Yanyu’s arm.

Qi Qiao was kneeling beside her, her hands braced on the mat, bending close. A few strands of her emerald-green hair fell onto Yun Jinxue’s face and neck—a ticklish sensation.

The plant-like, sweet fragrance she carried was soothing and steadying. Yun Jinxue smiled softly. “Yes, I’m awake.”

Qi Qiao plopped down cross-legged, her cloud-soft robes and long hair spreading out on the mat around her. She grinned, displaying her teeth. “You slept for two whole days.”

And, to emphasize, she held up two fingers. “Two. Days.”

Yun Jinxue was startled. She turned her gaze to the woman in red.

Jiang Yanyu looked down at her, her gaze quiet and still. She said nothing.

Slowly, the memories of everything that had happened before she passed out resurfaced. Yun Jinxue asked, “How did we get out? Did we get the Heavenly Spring Water?”

Song Xian was pouring tea. Her hands, long accustomed to being a killer’s, held the teapot with uncanny steadiness.

“We got it. Qi Qiao already took it back and gave it to her sister. I heard the effects were quite good. As for how you two got out—Jiang Yanyu said you happened to encounter more people from the Quan Family coming to open the Ice Storage door. She seized the chance to carry you out. That’s how you escaped.”

Placing a few cups of tea at the edge of the low table, she added, “Come, have some tea.”

Shu Yizhong had untied his conical hat and let it hang on his back. He cradled a cup and took a sip. “It’s not strange for the Quan Family to appear in the palace. Quite a few things in the Imperial Treasury actually belong to their own clan. They often go to retrieve things. So this time, it really was just good luck—a coincidence.”

Jiang Yanyu nodded as well. “It was indeed a coincidence. Otherwise, with both of us trapped in the Ice Storage, getting out would have been difficult.”

Qi Qiao didn’t understand any of that and simply didn’t listen. She knelt upright, spread her arms wide, and threw herself into Yun Jinxue’s arms, nuzzling her head against her.

“Thank you! My sister is so much better!”

Feeling the fuzzy head rubbing against her neck, Yun Jinxue didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “It’s a good thing you’re so small. If a grown person tackled me like that, how could I bear it?”

Qi Qiao giggled. She said, “I’m so happy. My sister called my name yesterday. It’s been so long since she called my name!”

Jiang Yanyu teased her. “What name? Qi Scallion? Qi Kindling?”

Qi Qiao huffed. “I’m not telling you.”

Everyone in the room broke into laughter.

Yun Jinxue lifted a hand to stroke the back of Qi Qiao’s head, pressing her cheek briefly to the top of her head before pulling back. “As long as she can recover, that’s what matters.”

Qi Qiao straightened up, kneeling on the mat. Her two hands came to rest obediently on her knees. “I’ll be staying here for a while now, working to complete the heart. So… this is for you.”

She extended one hand, biting down on the knuckle of her finger with her teeth. Her other hand closed around one of the branch-like horns growing from her head. With a sharp, firm yank, she snapped it off. Then, she placed it into Yun Jinxue’s arms.

“Waaah… One of my horns. It can prove my identity. If you show this to others, it will prove that you caught me.”

Her movements were so swift that Yun Jinxue was half a beat too slow to react.

When she realized what Qi Qiao had done, she hurriedly propped herself up from the mat and checked the child’s head. “How could you be so quick to act? There were other ways we could have done it. Why would you hurt yourself?”

Qi Qiao’s hands trembled as she cupped the broken horn. Her eyes were glistening with tears, but she said, “It’s fine. After you take it back, you can even plant it in the soil. The new leaves that grow—if you steep them in water to drink, it can prolong your life.”

Yun Jinxue was truly at a loss for words. “You… if your sister sees this, she’ll be heartbroken.”

Qi Qiao tilted her head, fiddling with her remaining horn, and muttered sullenly, “It’s okay. It can grow back.”

She pushed the offering closer again. “So, hurry and take it.”

Yun Jinxue looked down, at the tiny, delicately luminescent branch in that tiny palm. She accepted it with solemn care. “Thank you.”

Seeing her finally put it away safely, Qi Qiao shuffled on her knees to the side and once again sprawled over her scroll to draw, wiping her tears on the back of her hand every now and then.

Watching that small back, Yun Jinxue sighed softly. She handed the branch to Jiang Yanyu, who carefully stowed it away.

The burst of movement just now had been out of immediate concern. Now, the exhaustion came crashing back over her. Yun Jinxue propped herself up with one hand on the mat, struggling to hold herself upright. She leaned back, her head resting against Jiang Yanyu’s shoulder, and was smoothly pulled into her embrace.

Watching Qi Qiao scribble away on her paper, the stack of materials beside her already a thick pile, the atmosphere became leisurely and calm. Curiosity pricked at Yun Jinxue, and she couldn’t help asking: “Can a heart manufactured like this really be used?”

She hadn’t paid much attention to such scientific developments back in her modern society, but she understood well enough that creating an organ from scratch was incredibly difficult.

Could materials meant for the Mechanism Art truly produce a heart capable of beating?

But after thinking it through, she realized the point was moot.

True, there was no technological advancement here, but there was spiritual power, there was cultivation. That was a completely different matter.

Song Xian said, “We don’t know what the result will be. But we’ve tried every method available to us. We… are simply attempting it one more time.”

Yun Jinxue studied the pallor of her face and recalled that Song Xian’s own heart wasn’t even inside her body.

For a demonic creature to reach such a level was exceedingly rare to begin with. Nature was indeed full of wonders.

Choosing her words carefully, Yun Jinxue asked, “So, the wanted posters say the Crown Prince… died by your hand. Was that just a misunderstanding?”

Song Xian gave a cold, derisive laugh. “Not a misunderstanding. A false accusation. Though the true culprit has already been dealt with by me.”

Jiang Yanyu said, “So your own heart… is it currently inside that Crown Prince?”

Song Xian’s slender fingers tightened around her teacup. Her gaze drifted, unfocused, into the distance. “Yes. To preserve the faint warmth lingering in her body, I had no choice but to do that.”

Yun Jinxue’s voice was soft. “Between you two…”

A stick of incense burned quietly. The room was silent for a stretched moment.

Song Xian traced the path back through her memories, opening the worn, faded images she had already sifted through a thousand times before.

The first time she saw her had been inside the ice-cold palace.

It had been a rare snowfall in Bright Terrace. Li Wangxin had been leaning against the doorframe, watching the vast expanse of white blanketing the sky.

The weather had turned even colder. She had wrapped herself tighter in her cloak of heavy wool. The snowy-white fur piled against her cheeks made her look gentle and refined.

Shu Yizhong, beside her, had reminded her that she needed to go inspect the tribute gifts sent by envoys from beyond the border.

She had entered the hall. Inside a sturdy, coldly gleaming iron cage, a great snow wolf with sharp fangs and eyes of pale, frosty blue had been chained, baring her teeth at her.

The cage was stained with a fair amount of blood. Shu Yizhong had told her that more than one wolf had been sent. This one was the only survivor.

Li Wangxin had always been fond of the word ‘alive.’ She had said, I hope she continues to live. At least, live longer than I will.

The snow wolf hadn’t been a gift solely for the Crown Prince, but for the entire Imperial Family. However, only one had survived, and it was an extremely fierce, violent beast prone to biting people. So no one had wanted it. It had been cast aside, starved for many days, lying listlessly in its cage, barely breathing.

Li Wangxin hadn’t been able to bear the sight. Trembling with fright, she had gone to ask her Imperial Father for it and brought it to her own palace quarters.

She had tried to speak to the snow wolf, wanted to treat its wounds, to feed it. But she was always snarled and snapped at in return. Everyone in the entire palace, high or low, was unable to come near it in the slightest.

Many days passed like this. The snow wolf’s body grew weaker and weaker. Eventually, it could no longer even lift its head. Yet still, it wouldn’t accept anyone’s approach.

A wild beast like this shouldn’t be shut inside a cage. She must despise everyone here. She probably missed her home very much. Li Wangxin could understand.

And so, she had opened the cage. She had said, If you can leave the palace on your own, I will let you go.

The snow wolf had looked at her once. It had forced itself upright and limped and stumbled its way outside.

It had traveled a great distance, but in the end, its strength had failed it completely, and it collapsed. The guards had brought it back.

This happened three times, over and over. At last, the snow wolf gave up and slumped helplessly in the corner of the palace.

Li Wangxin had sat down beside it. She’d talked for a long time, telling the wolf that if it couldn’t even make it past the palace gates, the world outside was even more dangerous.

Your home is too far. You can’t get back relying only on yourself.

But in the end, she had still offered a small comfort: It’s alright. I can’t escape this deep palace either. So we’re the same, hahaha.

She had secretly looked through all the rumored books about communicating with animals and made many attempts. But the snow wolf never moved. Its body had grown so thin the bones showed. Its breath was faint. It seemed to intend to simply die like that.