Gray eyes were truly a rare sight. Even here in the borderlands, where merchants from distant lands were a common sight, such eyes were seldom seen.
The color was so pale it resembled a smear of mist, easily scattered by a stray breeze—utterly cold and detached.
Feng Yun’ai stood motionless. The dark gloom in her gaze deepened, spreading to the corners of her eyes until her very expression seemed to frost over.
The night air was chilly. Her thin white robes offered little protection against the cold. When her sleeves fluttered, she looked like a transcendent being who had long since forsaken the mortal world. With her black hair flying wildly, she appeared ready to ascend to the heavens at any moment.
Only the warmth of their breath, nearly overlapping as they stood in close proximity, provided any sign of life in the heavy silence.
Sang Chencao suddenly laughed. She pulled down the veil that had covered half her face, revealing her features completely. “Why the cold face? Do you hate being seen that much? Fine then, I’ll let you look at me too.”
The myriad of words Feng Yun’ai wanted to say seemed trapped in a narrow gorge, unable to find an outlet.
She was slightly surprised, however. This woman seemed only struck by the strangeness of her gray eyes; not a single cruel word had left her lips.
With a sharp snap, the veil was pulled from Sang Chencao’s hand, instantly swept away by the wind.
The woman in indigo was indeed otherworldly. Even though the smile on her face had faded, the corners of her lips remained slightly curved, as if harboring a touch of provocation and mockery.
If Feng Yun’ai was like a transcendent immortal, then Sang Chencao was a desert demon.
Seeing the frost in Feng Yun’ai’s eyes thaw slightly, Sang Chencao chuckled. “Where is that scar you mentioned? There isn’t a single word of truth in your mouth.”
“Is there ever truth in yours?” Feng Yun’ai asked coldly.
Sang Chencao pondered for a moment before actually nodding. “There is, occasionally.”
“Why did you… knock off my hat?” Feng Yun’ai remained still, as if her acupoints had been struck. Even her voice felt inexplicably choked. “Now that you’ve seen my eyes, what do you think?”
“I wanted to see them, so I took it off. Since we’re traveling together, why bother with secrets?” Sang Chencao did not back away. Instead, she pressed closer, leaving the other woman no room to breathe. “These eyes look better when they move. Otherwise, you look like a blind woman.”
When her gaze remained fixed, she did look somewhat wooden. Given the pale gray hue, she truly did resemble the sightless.
“Move them a little. Don’t make people want to bully you.” Sang Chencao raised her arm, her fingers brushing against the corner of Feng Yun’ai’s eye as if she were inspecting a trinket used to pass the time.
In her eyes, there seemed to be no distinction between the living and the dead. Whether it was the very much alive Lin Yaoyao or the cold corpse of Hu Cheng, everyone was merely a source of amusement in her long, dull days.
Hearing this, Feng Yun’ai didn’t know whether to blink or not. After a long pause, she simply looked away.
Sang Chencao finally took a step back. She channeled her internal power to snatch back her own veil, which was snagged on a withered branch in the distance. She didn’t tie it back over her own face, however. Instead, she folded it twice and held it up to Feng Yun’ai’s face without a word of explanation.
Feng Yun’ai moved to retreat, but the thin silk was already before her eyes.
“That hat of yours flew off far too easily. It was useless,” Sang Chencao mocked.
The veil became a blindfold. She tied a knot at the back of Feng Yun’ai’s head—neither too loose nor too tight, just enough to stay in place.
With this, Feng Yun’ai’s vision became blurred, leaving her with nothing but vague silhouettes.
Before she could reach up to remove it, Sang Chencao’s hand clamped down on hers.
“Since we’re traveling together, don’t let those gray eyes of yours drag me into trouble,” Sang Chencao said, gripping Feng Yun’ai’s wrist near the tiger’s mouth.
Feng Yun’ai’s expression turned icy. Internal power surged in her palm as she sent a shockwave toward Sang Chencao, though it held no killing intent.
Immediately, two currents of inner qi—one cold, one hot—clashed. The cold grew colder, and the heat grew more searing.
Sang Chencao suddenly released her and moved with eerie, unpredictable footwork, clearly intending to make Feng Yun’ai’s strike miss. She was retreating to advance, neutralizing the attack with ease.
Sensing this, Feng Yun’ai immediately withdrew her hand, but Sang Chencao pressed forward again. This time, she went even further, pressing her fingers directly against Feng Yun’ai’s pulse point.
“I won’t hurt you,” Sang Chencao said effortlessly. She held the grip for only a moment before letting go cleanly.
Feng Yun’ai felt a strange sensation. The lingering warmth on her wrist made her instinctively brush at the skin.
“Do you have a congenital deficiency?” Sang Chencao sneered. “Your meridians are weak and thin, yet the internal power flowing through them is incredibly fierce. Aren’t you afraid of turning yourself into a paralytic?”
Feng Yun’ai said nothing. Beneath the plain silk blindfold, her gaze was as sharp as a blade.
Sang Chencao turned around cheerfully and led over the horse she had been riding. As for Feng Yun’ai’s horse, it had vanished into the distance after Sang Chencao had kicked its rump earlier.
“The way your inner qi circulates reminds me of someone,” Sang Chencao said casually.
“Who?” Feng Yun’ai’s voice was frigid.
“Feng Rong.” Sang Chencao flipped herself onto the horse and reached a hand out toward Feng Yun’ai.
The woman in white stood below the horse, ignoring the gesture.
Sang Chencao continued, “Though, I’ve never met Feng Rong, nor have I ever fought her. What I know of her techniques is purely hearsay.”
“How can hearsay count for anything? If you want to talk nonsense, I can do the same.” Feng Yun’ai reluctantly climbed onto the horse, keeping a slight distance between them. She refused to lean against the other woman. “The way you use your martial arts reminds me of someone as well,” she said coldly.
“Oh? Who?” Sang Chencao asked, sounding amused.
“Wen Lanxin.” Feng Yun’ai paused for a beat. “But I have never met Wen Lanxin either. It is also just something I’ve heard.”
Sang Chencao gave the horse a light kick. As the beast neighed and galloped out of Black Wind Pond, she laughed. “A mere copycat.”
Feng Yun’ai did not argue.
Black Wind Pond was inherently dangerous, and the path they took was not a main road; they didn’t see another soul.
Yellow Sand Cliff had an infamous reputation, but not because its master was exceptionally cruel. It was because Wen Lanxin raised venomous creatures and had created countless poison codices. Rumor had it that even the flying sand near Yellow Sand Cliff carried toxins.
In truth, Wen Lanxin was not a cold-blooded killer. Far from harming others, she hadn’t shown her face once since she went into seclusion.
Many suspected that Wen Lanxin had quietly passed away, yet no one dared to enter Yellow Sand Cliff to find out for sure.
Precisely because Wen Lanxin was an expert in poisons and bore the title of the “Soul-Shattering Needle,” Feng Yun’ai suspected more and more that she wasn’t dead. In fact, she might even be preparing to return to the martial world.
Past Black Wind Pond and over the Wind-Brushed Hill, one could see a range of mountains to the south. Yellow Sand Cliff was located there.
Feng Yun’ai looked around from the back of the horse. Ever since entering the Sand River region, she had often been struck by the beauty of the desert wasteland.
It was unlike the bustling, lush Central Plains. This place was desolate and bleak, yet it felt far from dead.
When the bright sun rose, the landscape possessed a magnificent, unique vitality.
“Yellow Sand Cliff.” Sang Chencao pointed into the distance. Despite the lack of landmarks, she confidently pulled the reins and steered the horse in a new direction.
The horse’s stops and starts were entirely at the rider’s whim, coming without warning and with jarring suddenness.
Feng Yun’ai had intended to maintain some distance, but the abrupt movements forced her to bump against the indigo-clad woman’s back several times.
She became even more certain that if this person didn’t practice a bizarre cultivation method, then her constitution was abnormal. Otherwise, why would her body be so burning hot when she showed no signs of illness?
“If Wen Lanxin is there, what will you do?” Sang Chencao asked suddenly.
Feng Yun’ai fell silent for a moment. She had been thinking it over carefully, but considering Sang Chencao’s mysterious origins and her habit of speaking unpleasantly, she simply said, “We’ll see when we get there.”
Sang Chencao looked back. “You aren’t actually from the Blade Lending Sect. Has some rumor spread through the Central Plains? Do you truly believe the martial world is in danger, and that this chaos will be caused by Wen Lanxin?”
Her tone carried a hint of wonder and mockery.
“I just want to see Wen Lanxin. The matter at the inn hasn’t been cleared up yet.” Feng Yun’ai refused to reveal a single word more.
