The lake was tranquil, the surrounding air devoid of even a whisper of wind.
It felt like a desolate land beyond the mortal realm, where even the ripples moved with an eerie lightness.
Feng Yun’ai was nearly submerged in this silence. In her daze, she wondered if this was perhaps a dream.
Even Feng Rong had been unable to explain the intricacies of the Nine Palaces Formation to her. How could Sang Chencao have escaped so easily? Moreover, how had she managed to locate her with such pinpoint accuracy?
It must be a dream.
Yet, a searing touch fell upon her face. It was wet, sliding from the corner of her eye down to her jaw, forcing her to tilt her head back slightly.
It wasn’t a snake. A cold snake could never leave such a scorching sensation.
Immediately after, a familiar breath, hot as boiling water, pressed against her lips. It was so close there was practically no distance between them.
Feng Yun’ai’s eyelashes fluttered. When she opened her eyes, she saw a blurry shadow. For a moment, she feared she had gone blind, but then she remembered the blurriness was because the white veil still hung before her eyes.
It truly wasn’t a snake. The pressure on her chin came from Sang Chencao’s two fingers.
Sang Chencao gave a short laugh. “To be exhausted to this extent… why not sleep a bit longer? It would save you from being listless once we reach Cloud City.”
Feng Yun’ai struggled to lift her hand, hooking the white silk away to reveal a pair of icy grey eyes. She stared at the woman without blinking.
It really was her. Without anyone else to help, how had she escaped?
“Stunned?” Sang Chencao was drenched from her hair down to her shoes, looking as though she had just emerged from the depths of the lake. Strands of hair clung to her temples. Though her skin hadn’t turned pale from the soaking, she looked like a water ghoul at first glance.
This was especially true given her narrowed eyes and her cunning, playful expression—she looked no different from a specter.
Feng Yun’ai frowned, her voice thick with bewilderment. “Where did you come from?”
Sang Chencao pointed to the lake beside them. “There.”
“How did you get out?” Feng Yun’ai scanned her up and down, finding it hard to believe.
Sang Chencao smiled. “Since you already know about the Moonlight Sect, how could you not guess Wen Lanxin’s divine abilities? Feng Rong stayed in the Hantian Alliance for eighteen years; I’m afraid even she doesn’t know what Wen Lanxin has been doing during that time. It’s not strange that you can’t guess.”
Feng Yun’ai paused, a suspicion beginning to form in her mind.
Using her damp, burning hand, Sang Chencao stroked Feng Yun’ai’s cheek. “The world thinks Wen Lanxin has withdrawn from society, believing she has turned over a new leaf. In truth, as long as the Moonlight Sect exists, she will never truly go into seclusion.”
“Could it be… Wen Lanxin has thoroughly investigated every sect currently in the Jianghu?” Feng Yun’ai asked, her heart sinking.
“Xiuxiu is so smart.” Sang Chencao’s voice was thick with artificial sweetness, as if she were stirring honey into oil. “That’s why catching Wen Lanxin is far harder than catching me. She taught me a lot, but I suspect she’s kept more than a few trump cards for herself.”
“Back in the formation, you knew all along that I intended to force you to hold the anchor position!” Feng Yun’ai’s expression was ice-cold.
Sang Chencao laughed heartily. The sunlight was just right at that moment, making the two beauty marks beneath her eye seem less sinister.
Coming from the Great Desert, her skin was much darker than that of an average person. Yet when she smiled, she seemed more radiant than anyone in Cloud City.
“You played me,” Feng Yun’ai added.
“I did not,” Sang Chencao said helplessly. “Xiuxiu, you were the one who wanted to use me. I simply entered the trap willingly. How does that count as me playing you?”
Feng Yun’ai lacked the strength to argue with the woman. Her body was currently limp, and her internal breath remained in shambles.
Sang Chencao reached out. Her two joined fingers were like a fish, darting across several points on Feng Yun’ai’s body. She noted without much surprise, “You abandoned me just to burn these little things to death?”
Feng Yun’ai brushed the other woman’s hand away and sat cross-legged, beginning to regulate her breathing in silence.
A hiss sounded as the snake coiled around Sang Chencao’s wrist poked its head out.
Sang Chencao glanced at the snake and smiled. “See? Xiuxiu is stubborn. She’d rather suffer some hardship herself than lower her voice to beg me for help.”
Feng Yun’ai remained silent. Once she entered a meditative state, she became nearly deaf to the sounds around her.
She slowly smoothed out her chaotic breath. Now, when she probed her meridians, she truly could no longer find those few fleeting, strange presences.
The Subordinate Gu inside her body were indeed dead.
However, the surge of scorching inner qi from before remained. With her internal breath in disarray, that qi acted like an opportunist, suddenly rampaging through her system.
Sang Chencao watched as cold sweat poured down Feng Yun’ai’s forehead. Her beautiful face was deathly pale, resembling the hazy moonlight Sang Chencao often gazed at in the desert.
After a while, Sang Chencao simply raised her arm and delivered a light, feather-soft palm strike to Feng Yun’ai’s back.
With just that one touch, the rampaging qi was dispersed, completely integrating into Feng Yun’ai’s Dantian.
It turned out it wasn’t uncontrollable; it simply only obeyed its master.
Feng Yun’ai snapped her eyes open and whipped her head around to look at Sang Chencao, wondering why she had suddenly stopped being malicious.
“The journey here must have been agonizing, Xiuxiu. While you were suffering, did you ever spare a thought for my safety?” Sang Chencao leaned lazily against a boulder. She sat there drenched, not even bothering to use her internal power to dry her clothes or hair.
“I did not.” Feng Yun’ai looked her straight in the eye.
The snake on Sang Chencao’s wrist moved like a lightning bolt, hissing as it reared up toward the side of Feng Yun’ai’s neck.
Feng Yun’ai froze, her gaze shifting slightly downward in her peripheral vision.
Sang Chencao smilingly caught the snake back, her two fingers lightly pinching the snake’s head. “Don’t be afraid. The Subordinate Gu are dead. It will take some time for the Mother Gu inside the snake’s body to produce new ones. During this period, even if it bites someone randomly, it won’t be able to suppress you.”
Feng Yun’ai was half-skeptical. She looked away and said, “Then give it to me.”
“How formidable, Xiuxiu. You’re so afraid of being plotted against that you’d rather keep this venomous snake yourself?” Sang Chencao said meaningfully.
Feng Yun’ai thought to herself that if she ever trusted this woman again, she would surely have nothing but misery ahead of her.
