“How are you so clever?” Sang Chencao looked up at the ceiling of the sword’s interior. Unfortunately, it was pitch black inside the stone, making it impossible to judge the height of the summit.
She lifted the clay pot with one hand, letting the fine thorns brush against her chest, then lightly stepped onto the inner wall of the sword and leaped upward.
Feng Yun’ai watched with her heart in her throat, terrified that those thorns would graze Sang Chencao’s face.
The injury itself was one thing, but if the disguise were ruined, she had no idea how they would fix it. It would likely take ages just to pluck all the thorns out of her skin.
A voice drifted down from above. “Xiuxiu, there seem to be lamps.”
Feng Yun’ai pressed her palm against the stone wall. After some searching, she indeed found a lampstand firmly embedded in the stone. Beneath the lamp was a ring that could be pulled, though its purpose was unclear.
She tapped the lampstand twice and leaned in to listen. Sensing nothing out of the ordinary, she emboldened herself and pulled the ring.
With a soft click, a flame the size of a bean flickered to life on the stand.
Immediately, it was as if a wildfire was spreading as the light climbed steadily upward.
In truth, it wasn’t the fire itself traveling; rather, starting from the base of the sword, the lamps lit up in sequence, illuminating the entire interior.
Looking up now, the upper reaches were finally visible.
A platform suspended by chains hung near the peak. It was designed to hold an object, positioned directly opposite the hollowed-out hilt of the stone sword. It seemed perfectly placed to allow a plant to poke its head out.
When the time came, the flower would emerge from the hilt. At a glance, it would look as if a blossom had sprouted from golden stone—much like the swords held by the people of the martial world.
With a sword in one’s heart, the blade may birth flowers, grass, and all living things. The purest elements of the world are born from this.
What Feng Rong had sought her entire life was exactly this: the “Sword Encompassing All Visions.”
Feng Yun’ai stood still with her head tilted back, finally beginning to understand the words Feng Rong had once spoken to her.
This stone sword had been carved by Feng Rong’s own hand. Every time the Hero Recruitment Meet was held, she would personally place a flower inside. In truth, she was inviting the guests of the world to discuss their hearts and witness the profound mysteries of the sword together.
Unfortunately, others only cared for the event itself and came only to “Pluck the Blossom.” None cared for the secrets hidden between the flower and the sword.
Sang Chencao had already placed the clay pot on the stand. However, the stalk of the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower was currently too short; it would need several days of nourishment before the bud at the tip could reach out past the stone walls.
Feng Yun’ai had caught a glimpse of a corner of Feng Rong’s heart. It felt as if a brilliant flower had bloomed beneath her own ribs. A long-overdue sense of joy rose to her lips; she felt a sour ache, yet also a desire to smile.
It was a bit late, but at the very least, she had seen it.
Sang Chencao sat on the platform with one leg hooked up, her posture leisurely as she looked down. She scoffed, “What are you smiling at? Tell me.”
Feng Yun’ai shook her head, her smile fading into a neutral expression. “It’s nothing.”
“Xiuxiu, we’ve faced life and death together. We should be of one mind. Don’t start keeping secrets from me.” Sang Chencao leaped down. She jumped with reckless abandon, as if intending to collide directly with Feng Yun’ai.
The wind from the drop rushed against Feng Yun’ai’s face, tossing her hair. she leaned back slightly, only to have the fabric at her waist snatched. The woman had no intention of letting her dodge.
Feng Yun’ai jerked her head to the side just in time to avoid bumping noses.
Sang Chencao held her fast, leaning in with a constant smile. Even with the flawless mask, her cunning and eccentric nature couldn’t be fully suppressed; it seeped out naturally, like flowing water.
“There is… mud on your hands,” Feng Yun’ai finally managed to squeeze out after her waist had been warmed by the touch for far too long.
Sang Chencao let go, spreading her fingers before her eyes. She blew a light breath and said, “They’re perfectly clean. You’re just making up excuses to get away from me.”
Coming from this woman’s mouth, the words sounded strangely affectionate.
Feng Yun’ai’s waist still felt hot. She secretly smoothed her clothes a few times before turning to pull the ring beneath the lampstand back to its original position.
The world plunged into darkness. Even that unfamiliar disguised face was now hidden. Feng Yun’ai finally let out a breath of relief and exited the narrow door of the stone sword, feigning composure. “We shouldn’t stay here long. We need to find another opportunity to swap the flower in the sword.”
“Then you and I won’t be able to leave this Dieshan Alliance easily,” Sang Chencao said as she left the stone sword, testing one of the nearby chains with a tug. “If the two people we replaced return, all our efforts will be wasted.”
Feng Yun’ai had never done anything so… clandestine before. Being forced to act as someone else was clearly harder for her than practicing martial arts.
“We’ll stay in the Alliance for now and find a chance to return to the coffin shop,” Sang Chencao said, her eyes narrowing. “There’s no need to worry about those two. I’ve sealed their acupoints. Unless someone helps them, they won’t be able to move for a while.”
“What if someone sees through our disguise?” Feng Yun’ai frowned.
Sang Chencao hooked her index finger and gave it a light, playful shake. She scoffed, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already looked into it. Half the people in this Dieshan Alliance are newcomers. Most of those from the old Hantian Alliance have been purged. Zhou Gui only kept those who are absolutely loyal to her. People like that have to be recruited from the outside.”
“I’ll trust you one more time,” Feng Yun’ai said, having no other choice.
“You can trust me a second time, it’s fine,” Sang Chencao replied, perfectly composed.
After a moment, the two of them mimicked the actions of their predecessors, exerting force to return the stone sword to its upright position.
Sang Chencao returned to the carriage and beckoned to Feng Yun’ai. Her movements were natural and bold, as if she truly were a member of this alliance.
“Where are we going?” Feng Yun’ai lifted the curtain to look around, her heart hovering in her chest.
“To see Zhou Gui,” Sang Chencao said.
Feng Yun’ai pursed her lips.
“The flower has been returned; this must be reported,” Sang Chencao said leisurely. “You spent your days on Listening Goose Peak living the life of a transcendent immortal. I expect you wouldn’t know how these things work.”
Feng Yun’ai had no retort. She said coldly, “So what?”
“Don’t be angry, Xiuxiu. Aren’t I telling you now?” Sang Chencao said. “Later, you don’t need to speak. Just listen to me.”
