Chapter 28: Fish Mint and Cilantro Part 2

“You’re protecting Wen Lanxin,” Feng Yun’ai stated.

Sang Chencao wagged a finger and sat up straight, crossing her arms. “I’m not protecting her. I just don’t want to be dragged down with her.”

Feng Yun’ai frowned. Her mind raced. “No wonder you let me search everywhere when we were at Yellow Sand Cliff,” she said tonelessly.

“You’ve got some wit after all,” Sang Chencao chuckled.

Feng Yun’ai sensed something off about her tone.

“Let’s not talk about what it is for now. Suffice it to say, it is something Wen Lanxin hid very deeply, and it has nothing to do with medicine or poison.” Sang Chencao sounded distracted.

“Could it be a secret manual?”

Sang Chencao scoffed. “Are you a martial arts fanatic just like Feng Rong?”

Feng Yun’ai didn’t think she was, but she fell silent and stopped asking. Knowing this woman’s temperament, any further questions would likely be met with lies.

Sang Chencao seemed to be calculating something. She lay down on the bed, staring intently at the palms and backs of her hands with a profound expression.

“Wen Lanxin taught you martial arts. Why do you seem to hate her?” Feng Yun’ai turned to look at her.

Sang Chencao propped herself up and teased, “You’re so curious about me. Are you trying to find my weakness?”

“Does that count as a weakness?” Feng Yun’ai was confused.

“To live a life is to have weaknesses—joy, anger, sorrow, and delight are all vulnerabilities,” Sang Chencao said meaningfully. “It seems Feng Rong only taught you how to find openings in a sword stance.”

“Emotions? If the sword and the heart are not clean, then one’s cultivation is not deep enough. In the end, isn’t that just a martial weakness?” Feng Yun’ai countered calmly.

Sang Chencao gave a slow, noncommittal hum. “I heard Feng Rong was ignorant of human nature. It seems you are the same.”

Feng Yun’ai glanced at her, then tilted her head to listen to the movement in the hallway.

The Hantian Alliance members were extremely cautious. They didn’t discuss important matters outside, and they remained silent whenever they passed the room.

Feeling uneasy, Feng Yun’ai stood up. “I won’t go with you. Remove the Gu, and I will find Wen Lanxin on my own.”

The woman in indigo on the bed let out a dry laugh. “You don’t have a choice. You must come with me.”

“You are truly…” Feng Yun’ai searched for the words, but she simply couldn’t fathom how this woman’s mind could be so erratic.

Sang Chencao lowered her voice. Her gaze, like a serpent’s, locked onto Feng Yun’ai. “If you truly want to know how Feng Rong died, then come to Yellow Sand Cliff. Her death had nothing to do with Wen Lanxin, but whether it had anything to do with that Elder Zhou… well, that’s another story.”

Even if the woman hadn’t said it, Feng Yun’ai already found Zhou Gui suspicious. However, in her eyes, finding Wen Lanxin was the priority.

Precisely because Feng Rong had given her Wen Lanxin’s sword.

But now, she was starting to doubt.

“Have you ever wondered why Wen Lanxin threw away her sword all those years ago?” Sang Chencao asked, lying on her side and resting her head on her hand.

“She was afraid to fight,” Feng Yun’ai said.

“Wrong.” Sang Chencao smiled mockingly. “She just didn’t want to fight a life-and-death battle with Feng Rong. Given her feelings for Feng Rong, she wouldn’t have killed her then, and she wouldn’t do it now.”

Feng Yun’ai froze. She felt a strange hollowness in her chest. She didn’t quite understand the word “feelings,” and she had never heard that there was any bond between Feng Rong and Wen Lanxin.

Sang Chencao said no more, closing her eyes to sleep.

Feng Yun’ai watched her, her lips pressed thin as she sat still.

Fortunately, when Sang Chencao had sliced the bronze bell the other day, onlookers only noted how sharp her blade was. They hadn’t seen the sword’s full form, let alone its name.

Most of the people in Haosi City were commoners. They didn’t dare gossip about such things, so the news hadn’t reached the ears of the Hantian Alliance.

The inn was unusually full but oddly quiet. Knowing that the Hantian Alliance and the other sects were here, no one dared to try and steal the sword.

Feng Yun’ai had finished wrapping Solitary Gall. She sat by the table as if she knew no fatigue, her slender back straight and elegant, waiting for 5:00 AM.

The woman in indigo lay on the bed, looking as though she were sleeping peacefully.

It was in the middle of the night that the woman in white finally moved.

Feng Yun’ai knew very little about Gu insects. She harbored a desperate hope that when a person slept, the so-called Gu might fall asleep as well. She rose and walked to the bedside.

She had been contemplating this since the moment Sang Chencao closed her eyes.

The night was deep. The candle on the table flickered, casting shadows on the wall like ghosts.

Feng Yun’ai looked down, focusing on the woman’s breathing.

It was steady and slow—the breath of someone deep in sleep.

She suddenly extended her fingers, aiming for the side of Sang Chencao’s neck. Her fingertips glowed with a faint, translucent light—she was utilizing her inner qi to its limit to perform an acupoint strike.

If she succeeded, even a master with superior martial arts would find it difficult to break the seal.

But before her fingers could land, her meridians felt a violent tug. Her hand froze mid-air, paralyzed.

Feng Yun’ai couldn’t follow through. Forget a killing blow—she couldn’t even manage a non-lethal restraint.

She stood frozen. Just as she was about to withdraw, the woman before her snapped her eyes open and caught Feng Yun’ai’s suspended wrist in a firm grip.

Her wrist felt as if it had been branded; the palm holding her was dry and burning hot.

Feng Yun’ai’s breathing hitched. She narrowed her eyes. “You weren’t asleep?”

“I was,” Sang Chencao said leisurely, still lying flat. “But your sudden turmoil of heart dragged me out of a beautiful dream. You really are a nuisance.”

Feng Yun’ai naturally didn’t believe her. “You were awake,” she spat.

Sang Chencao laughed and sat up. “I was dead to the world. But I forgot to tell you—even if I am unconscious in a dream, the Gu is always awake.”

She applied a bit of pressure, pulling the woman in white closer. Her voice was low and carried a hint of a threat. “Just now… were you trying to kill me?”

“I wasn’t,” Feng Yun’ai replied coldly, wrenching her hand away.

“Don’t waste your energy. I’ve changed my mind; we aren’t going to Cloud City yet.” Sang Chencao suddenly reached out and tore the silk veil from Feng Yun’ai’s face. She smiled. “Don’t force me to use a different kind of Gu on you.”