Chapter 69: Inheriting the Mantle Part 1

Seeking death, or dying for love.

The former was cold and hollow, while the latter was a final, resolute expression of devotion.

If this had been the past, Sang Chencao likely wouldn’t have hesitated for even half a second before offering a mouthful of mockery. But now, Feng Yun’ai heard a trace of genuine emotion in her voice.

Sang Chencao placed an object beside Feng Yun’ai’s hand. Knowing the other woman couldn’t move, she kindly pinched Feng Yun’ai’s fingers and guided them onto the item.

The touch was ice-cold, sending a jolt of vitality through skin that had almost lost all sensation.

It was her sword, Solitary Gall.

Sang Chencao gave a faint smile and returned to meddling with the contents of a pot. “She said she wanted to pass Solitary Gall to me,” she said leisurely. “It seems she truly intends to die. Between the lines of her letter, she expressed regret—to me, and to the children who died in the Snake Pit all those years ago.”

Feng Yun’ai’s fingers rested against the sword, her heart as silent as the blade.

“Do you know why she raised Medicinal Humans back then?” Sang Chencao suddenly turned around, watching Feng Yun’ai with practiced ease.

Feng Yun’ai could only wonder in silence. Medicinal Humans were, naturally, for medicinal use. And medicinal use was for treating illness. But Wen Lanxin didn’t seem like someone suffering from a chronic ailment; she likely raised them as a reserve for emergencies.

After all, raising a Medicinal Human was no easy feat. Once perfected, they could be… harvested at any time.

Sang Chencao narrowed her eyes, certain that the other couldn’t guess. She said with a hint of pride, “I knew you wouldn’t figure it out. I might as well tell you: she raised those Medicinal Humans for Feng Rong. Feng Rong was destined to die young.”

Feng Yun’ai was stunned. Who in this world wasn’t destined to die eventually? The way she said it made it sound as if everyone else was immortal.

“Do you know why your own frame is so fragile, yet you were still able to learn martial arts?” Sang Chencao asked meaningfully.

Feng Yun’ai blinked slightly to indicate her confusion.

Sang Chencao smiled, looking every bit the teacher as she explained slowly, “Silly Xiuxiu. The one who understands medicine and poison is Wen Lanxin, not Feng Rong. The reason Feng Rong could teach you to become what you are today is because her own constitution was originally unfit for martial arts. She knew better than anyone how a person with a weak body should start their training and consolidate their foundation.”

How could that be?

Feng Yun’ai was dazed. Feng Rong, the ‘Greatest Sword in the World,’ had been someone whose frame was too poor to practice martial arts? If that were true, where would that leave everyone else in the world who fell short of her?

Feng Yun’ai had struggled immensely to reach her current level. If it were Feng Rong, how much more suffering must she have endured to bear the title of the world’s greatest sword?

And yet, Feng Rong had always maintained that cold, detached persona, never sharing her inner troubles with anyone.

Sang Chencao continued softly, “When Sun Qi adopted Feng Rong, she was already on the verge of death. Her internal structure was incredibly poor, her Meridians were entirely blocked, and her qi and blood were deficient. Sun Qi spent a long time nursing her back to health.”

Feng Yun’ai listened silently, her eyes the only thing moving.

“When she was about eight or nine, Sun Qi decided to teach her medicine and poison. But Feng Rong had a stubborn streak; she refused to learn those arts and insisted on practicing the sword instead. Thus, Sun Qi could only pass the arts of medicine and poison to Wen Lanxin. Wen Lanxin accepted it all without a single word of protest.” Sang Chencao stirred the herbs in the pot.

The water must have reached a boil, for the fragrance of the herbs began to drift out. Feng Yun’ai caught a whiff of a familiar scent.

The medicinal aroma was hauntingly familiar—bitter yet sweet, with a slight spicy kick. It smelled like…

It smelled like Sang Chencao’s own scent.

The thought flashed through her mind, causing Feng Yun’ai’s breath to hitch. Her heart began to race as a terrifying suspicion took hold. Could Sang Chencao be…

Was she drawing her own blood? Or carving her own flesh?

Sang Chencao didn’t turn around, so she didn’t see Feng Yun’ai’s pupils contract. She continued, “Sun Qi was an excellent teacher. Since Feng Rong wanted to learn the sword, she put all her effort into teaching her. Every folk remedy and secret technique was used on Feng Rong just to open her Meridians and allow her to stabilize her cultivation realms.”

Feng Yun’ai’s head spun from the thick medicinal scent. Her thoughts were a jumble; the words entered her ears only to vanish an instant later.

“Fortunately, Feng Rong actually did it. She didn’t let Sun Qi’s painstaking efforts go to waste.” Sang Chencao let out a faint, cynical laugh. “However, if she continued like that, Feng Rong likely wouldn’t have lived past fifty. The higher her martial arts reached, the greater the toll on her body and mind. Death would have been inevitable.”

Feng Yun’ai snapped back to reality, her heart pounding as if it were about to burst through her chest.

Sang Chencao went on, “Unless there was a medicine—one with the power to defy heaven and change fate. Something that could replenish the bones worn down over the years, the increasingly frail internal organs, and the nearly exhausted lifeblood. Something to drag her back from the yellow mud to the world of the living.”

A Medicinal Human, Feng Yun’ai thought.

Sure enough, Sang Chencao said unhurriedly, “That’s why Wen Lanxin started thinking about raising a batch of Medicinal Humans early on. But then things happened suddenly, and she and Feng Rong went their separate ways. Feng Rong said she wanted to spend her remaining days doing something useful for the world.”

Initially, Feng Yun’ai thought such words would never come from Feng Rong’s mouth. But while Feng Rong seemed cold and heartless, her resolve was stronger than anyone’s. She was stubborn, but she was also kind.

Feng Rong’s refusal to learn the path of poison was likely, in part, because she didn’t want to descend into evil.

Sang Chencao suddenly chuckled. “Wen Lanxin has always been a person whose heart and mouth disagree. Her tongue was never kind. Back then, she mocked Feng Rong, claiming she didn’t believe she could achieve anything, nor that anyone would accept her as a descendant of the Moonlight Sect. She hoped to keep her by her side that way. Who knew Feng Rong was so determined? Even after their battle at the Fu Sea, she never looked back. Wen Lanxin tried to win her pity by discarding her sword, but she couldn’t make her turn around.”

Hearing this, the clouds finally parted for Feng Yun’ai. No wonder Feng Rong would occasionally say things to her during her childhood that she couldn’t understand.

The conceited often wrong others; Feng Rong had spent her entire life unable to follow her own heart.