Chapter 70: A Drop of Blood, a Slur of Speech Part 2

Feng Yun’ai decided to let it go. She had been burned into this state by the fire; there was nothing left for her to be shy about. She closed her eyes and allowed Sang Chencao to wash her.

Sang Chencao didn’t simply use the water nearby. She used a flint to strike a fire and boiled the water in a small pot.

With two crackles, the cave was illuminated.

Feng Yun’ai shifted her gaze to look around, catching a glimpse of the cave’s size.

It wasn’t small. In the distance, there were signs of excavation. The piles on the ground were likely dry grass and withered branches. But not far away, there was a pile of white that… looked somewhat like skeletal remains.

Sang Chencao followed her gaze and said calmly, “I didn’t tell you, but it turns out the ice cellar was connected to this waterway. I suspect Zhou Gui had it dug in advance as a deep secret. When the gunpowder exploded, it happened to blast the entrance open, allowing her to escape.”

Feng Yun’ai had already guessed there was a waterway near the ice cellar. She knew Zhou Gui was a woman of deep foresight, having planned the demise of the Central Plains’ martial world with meticulous care.

Unfortunately for her, Zhou Gui’s wishes hadn’t been fully realized.

Sang Chencao continued, “Those bones probably belong to the person who dug the waterway. For some reason, he ended up being washed down here with us. Later, when the entrance was sealed, perhaps his swimming wasn’t good enough to find the underwater vortex, so he couldn’t get out. Luckily, he gathered the leftover supplies from the construction and kept them here. Now, they serve us.”

Feng Yun’ai understood.

Sang Chencao boiled the water and turned her back to draw Solitary Gall.

The sword sang as it left its scabbard, a sound so faint yet enough to make the hair on Feng Yun’ai’s neck stand up. She rasped out a single word: “Don’t.”

Sang Chencao glanced back at her. This time, she didn’t hide it. Right in front of Feng Yun’ai, she made a small cut on her arm, letting a few drops of blood fall into the pot.

Fortunately, the cut wasn’t deep.

Feng Yun’ai listened intently. Hearing only a few drops hit the water, she felt a sudden wave of relief, followed by a ringing in her ears.

“Your body is covered in wounds; the water for washing must be clean. My blood happens to have medicinal properties that will help you heal faster,” Sang Chencao explained.

Feng Yun’ai was dazed. The cold indifference in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a look like an apricot flower on a tree—no longer avoiding people, but waiting for the wind to blow her into a waiting embrace.

Sang Chencao tossed the cloth into the pot as well, acting as if it were nothing. “He had bad luck, but you and I are different. As long as we find that underwater vortex again, we can escape.”

Feng Yun’ai thought the same. A sense of calm washed over her; despite the severity of her injuries, she no longer felt any panic.

“But we have to wait until you’re better before we look for the way out together.” Sang Chencao leaned down and blew on the hot pot. Acting as if the heat didn’t bother her, she pulled the scalding cloth directly out of the water.

Feng Yun’ai had little sensation left. As the cloth touched her skin, it felt only like the light crawling of insects.

She stared at the blurry ceiling of the cave, the faint sound of Sang Chencao’s breath near her ear making her feel a strange, mellow fuzziness in her mind.

Sang Chencao pulled down the collar of her robe, wiping her down with extreme care. There was no pain, only a lingering, wandering itch.

Feng Yun’ai recalled being burned in the fire and realized the clothes she was wearing were not her own. Looking closer, she saw that Sang Chencao was only wearing a thin inner shirt.

A person so picky and domineering could, when her heart softened, become incredibly tender.

Feng Yun’ai lowered her gaze and said nothing, allowing Sang Chencao to lift her arms and move her legs. A flush of embarrassment crept onto her ears and the corners of her eyes.

She found herself grateful that she must look hideous right now. Even if her face was red, no one would be able to tell.

However, there were no fish in this waterway, and they could find no food. The two of them could only endure the hunger.

Fortunately, they had their martial arts. By sealing their meridians and suppressing the hunger in their bellies, the discomfort remained manageable.

With nothing else to do, Sang Chencao slowly recounted interesting stories about the Listening Moon Sand River. To her, however, “interesting” usually meant the misfortunes of others.

For example, a story of someone who lost their way in the Sand River and nearly died of heatstroke, only to be saved by a camel.

Or the story of a man who was led astray by a mirage and accidentally stumbled into Listening Moon Town. That man claimed to have been enlightened by the gods and possessed divine powers, demanding offerings from everyone. In the end, he was beaten to death with clubs. He didn’t reach the heavens; he went straight to the underworld.

Sang Chencao told many such stories in a slow, steady voice. Occasionally, Feng Yun’ai would blink a few times to show she was listening.

Sang Chencao chuckled. “Xiuxiu likes these so much? Then I’ll tell a few more.”

Feng Yun’ai’s eyelids flickered.

Two days later, Feng Yun’ai’s injuries showed even more progress. Because her body was paralyzed, she couldn’t feel it, so it was Sang Chencao who leaned in and said joyfully, “The scabs are falling off, Xiuxiu.”

Feng Yun’ai’s heart hammered against her ribs. Anyone else with such injuries would have met the King of Hell long ago; how could they be scabbing over already?

Sang Chencao carefully checked the rest of her body. “It seems that in another two days, your new skin will be fully grown. However, your eyes might not recover as quickly. That eye-coloring drop was too potent. You’ll have to endure it for a while longer, Xiuxiu.”

Feng Yun’ai didn’t dare ask for more. Besides, if they were going to the Western Regions, her eyes couldn’t recover too quickly anyway, lest her grey pupils be seen by everyone.

“The new skin is even fairer than before.” Sang Chencao withdrew her fingers. “I can hardly bear to touch it.”

Feng Yun’ai took it as a joke, but she still blushed slightly at the obvious intimacy in the other woman’s tone.

Since the new skin was growing, her wounds must have mostly healed. She wouldn’t thrash around in pain anymore.

In that case, can the poison be neutralized? Feng Yun’ai thought.

She glanced sideways at Sang Chencao. Her tongue touched her lips as she struggled to force out a single syllable: “S… s…”

She was trying to ask for the “Solution”—the antidote.

Sang Chencao froze for a moment, then her eyes filled with a mischievous glint. She deliberately misinterpreted the word, leaning over to look at her. “Xiuxiu, why are you suddenly calling me ‘Sister’?”