Chapter 19: Shattered Blade and Purple Light

The act of dropping the lamp was clearly intentional.

The snakes, tangled like coils of hemp rope, didn’t even have time to hiss before the flames swallowed them whole. The chorus of their cries was drowned out by the crackling roar of the fire.

Feng Yun’ai had already begun to suspect that even if this woman in indigo wasn’t Wen Lanxin’s housemate, she was at least intimately connected to her. In her view, no acquaintance would ever so callously destroy the venomous snakes Wen Lanxin had meticulously raised.

Yet, looking at the woman’s current actions… had she been wrong?

Then again, a second thought struck her. This woman had been abnormal from the start; she was hardly the type to act according to anyone else’s expectations.

“What? Are you afraid of fire too?” Sang Chencao asked with a laugh.

Feng Yun’ai was certainly not as terrified as the snakes. However, Sang Chencao seemed truly fearless. Even as the dazzling flames consumed the wooden racks along the cave walls, surging within arm’s reach, she remained standing by the snake pit. It was as if she wouldn’t move until she watched every last serpent burn to ash.

The searing heat of the inferno rolled toward them like a tide. Despite the warmth, an inexplicable chill rose within Feng Yun’ai, and she took a very slow step back.

The door had already been destroyed. If this continued, the fire would inevitably spread. The medicinal herbs outside, the bamboo building, and the surrounding greenery would all be reduced to ruins.

This person is doing this on purpose!

“Why did you burn the snake pit?” Feng Yun’ai’s voice was cold.

Only then did Sang Chencao turn around. She stepped slowly out from the thick smoke and fire, her expression leisurely and composed. “They’re all venomous snakes. If I don’t burn them, should I just wait for them to slither out and hurt people?”

Feng Yun’ai narrowed her eyes. Her grey pupils were icy. She suddenly kicked a water vat outside the cave, attempting to create a barrier against the spreading fire. She still hadn’t found the ingredients or the powder for the Spirit-Awakening Powder; if the fire continued, she never would.

“Don’t panic, the fire won’t get out.” Sang Chencao brushed a hand against the cave wall. “Haven’t you ever seen glazed tiles and chalk?”

Feng Yun’ai composed herself. Her gaze flickered for a brief moment before she replied coldly, “I didn’t notice.”

Sure enough, the flames acted like snakes themselves; the moment they licked the outer edge of the cavern, they recoiled with a hiss. Only the billowing thick smoke continued to pour out.

When they had entered earlier, Feng Yun’ai had noted that the cave held nothing but herbs and the dried remains of insects and snakes—unless there were hidden mechanisms or secret passages in places she hadn’t seen. But since the stone door was meant to cage snakes, and Spirit-Awakening Powder didn’t have legs to run away, it likely wasn’t hidden that deeply.

With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, Sang Chencao said, “This way, even if Wen Lanxin returns suddenly, she won’t be able to use these snakes to kill us.”

“If Wen Lanxin wants us dead, she likely won’t need snakes at all.” Feng Yun’ai’s peripheral vision remained on the cave, her eyes squinting against the smoke.

“Then she’ll certainly have a murderous intent this time. Those snakes were exceptionally rare and well-bred. There was the Flowered-Back Peony with three tails, the Blue-Tailed Mountain-Myriad, the Red-Crowned Pointed-Nose Viper… and what else? Oh, right, the Twin-Headed Golden Retribution.”

Sang Chencao listed the names at an unhurried pace, speaking as if she knew every snake in that pit like the back of her hand. Given that brief, hurried glance, how could anyone have identified so many species?

The snakes in the pit were countless, raised like a jar of venomous insects. They coiled around one another so tightly it was impossible to tell which head belonged to which tail. Yet, this woman in indigo could precisely name which was twin-headed and which had three tails.

Feng Yun’ai still held her unsheathed sword. The moment the woman in indigo let out a soft chuckle, her blade suddenly tilted.

It happened in an instant, like a sudden crack in the heavens. It was as if rain and snow had collided amidst a sky-tearing wind.

The inner qi that had been gathering in her palm for so long finally erupted along the edge of her blade. Wherever the sword wind reached, the surrounding plants bent and snapped. The sword intent was chilling, its momentum like a flood covering the earth—utterly unstoppable.

Feng Yun’ai stood her ground as silver light took flight from the flick of her wrist. She seemed to transform into that white shadow of sword-light, becoming one with her blade and her qi.

Such profound internal power, such world-shaking sword qi… how could a person of her age have mastered this? Not to mention, Feng Yun’ai suffered from a congenital deficiency; her meridians should not have been able to withstand such haughty, frigid internal power.

The woman in indigo remained unfazed. With a light hook at her waist, her silver flexible sword coiled forward like a serpent.

A strange, shivering excitement crept into the corners of Sang Chencao’s eyes and brows. She infused a blazing inner qi into her sword. Her footwork seemed flippant and casual, but in truth, it was eerie and bizarre—a chaotic pattern that resembled a madman’s dance.

Such footwork was rare. In an ordinary person, it would be a sign of sloppy skill and a poor foundation. But not for Sang Chencao. Her silhouette was like a flickering shadow within the fire, making her impossible to track. At first glance, she seemed full of openings, yet she was actually flawless.

With a sharp clang, the flexible sword wrapped around the white blade. Two surges of inner qi collided violently. Silver sparks splashed out like a falling galaxy.

Feng Yun’ai’s expression shifted drastically. It wasn’t because she had underestimated her opponent’s strength, but because her own blade had suddenly developed several cracks. It was on the verge of shattering.

That flexible sword was not forged from ordinary metal, whereas the sword in Feng Yun’ai’s hand was just a common weapon.

Feng Yun’ai immediately released the hilt. With a flick of her wrist, she struck out with a palm, using the momentum to leap backward and avoid the flying shards of her broken blade.

The woman in indigo merely turned her sword-tip, dispersing the palm wind as easily as brushing away clouds.

Feng Yun’ai reached behind her, finally gripping the sword that had been tightly wrapped in coarse cloth for a long time.

As the cloth disintegrated, a flash of purple light flickered across the blade, looking almost like venom. Though the purple light lasted only a second, Sang Chencao saw it clearly. She froze for a heartbeat.

In that single heartbeat, Feng Yun’ai’s sword reached the side of Sang Chencao’s neck. If this strike landed, the woman would be severely injured, if not dead.

Sang Chencao snapped back to reality, preparing to surge her internal power to block. Unexpectedly, the blade turned like a white dragon glancing back, shifting to the blunt, heavy pommel which slammed into the side of her neck, numbing it instantly.

Feng Yun’ai had no intention of taking a life. Using the sword hilt like a finger, she struck her opponent’s acupoints.

Even for a simple pressure point strike, she used nearly ten-tenths of her power.

The woman in indigo could still move, but her meridians were obstructed. If she tried to fight back now, she would be at a distinct disadvantage.

Feng Yun’ai let out a quiet breath of relief. She then pushed her sword forward slightly and asked coldly, “Do you recognize this blade?”

Sang Chencao smiled, showing no signs of distress. She blew a stray lock of hair away from her face and asked, “Is it yours?”

“It’s not mine.” Feng Yun’ai lowered her gaze, sheathing the weapon. “None of the swords I carry belong to me.”

Sang Chencao offered a useless reply: “It’s not mine, either.”

After several days of acquaintance, Feng Yun’ai had gained a basic understanding of this woman’s temperament. If she didn’t answer directly, she was hiding something.

Feng Yun’ai tried to suppress it, but a light cough escaped her. A thin trail of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth, making her look exceptionally fragile—especially with her dull grey eyes and her plain white dress.

It wasn’t an injury from the fight; it was because she had overexerted her internal power. Not only were her meridians aching, but even her internal organs felt heavy.

Sang Chencao raised an eyebrow. Despite being at a disadvantage, her attitude remained unchanged. She even reached out, attempting to wipe the blood from Feng Yun’ai’s lips.

Feng Yun’ai leaned back to avoid her, using her sleeve to wipe her mouth instead.

“Didn’t the person who taught you martial arts ever tell you?” Sang Chencao sneered. “If you keep this up, you’re going to die.”

The words were harsh, but Feng Yun’ai acted as if she didn’t care. “I want to see Wen Lanxin,” she said coldly.

Sang Chencao withdrew her hand and secretly circulated her energy, trying to break the seal on her acupoints. When she found she couldn’t break through, she simply said, “I’ve already brought you to Yellow Sand Cliff. Whether you see Wen Lanxin or not is your business.”

“You must know where she went.” Feng Yun’ai reached out, pressing two fingers against Sang Chencao’s neck—right where the obstruction in her meridians lay.

The skin beneath her fingers was scalding. It was as if this woman’s very blood was boiling.

Sang Chencao placed her hand over the back of Feng Yun’ai’s hand, her tone light and airy. “Truthfully, I don’t know either.”