When the ingredients weren’t all collected, they hadn’t had the luxury to worry about this. Now that gathering them was over, a new worry emerged. Wei Mingyi checked the Building Mall, but no building appeared that displayed a percent chance of successful alchemy.
“No rush,” Wu Chongyun said, her eyes downcast. Whenever the topic involved herself, she became sparing with words again.
“How can I not be anxious?” Wei Mingyi pouted. This was a matter of life and death! They couldn’t just keep suppressing it with Spirit-Restoring Pills, could they? During the months she’d been in the Eternal Cosmos Heavenly Realm, she didn’t know if her Shizun had taken her medicine or fought with anyone. At the end, she’d personally seen her Shizun strike and instantly subdue a Nascent Soul Daoist. Did that exertion of magical power have any adverse effects? Thoughts surged like a tide in Wei Mingyi’s mind. As Wu Chongyun pulled at her whisk, Wei Mingyi leaned her whole body sideways and toppled onto her. “How is Shizun’s health? Don’t brush me off; I want the truth.”
“Still fine,” Wu Chongyun blinked. She reached out to steady Wei Mingyi but was instead pulled into a tighter embrace. Gradually, Wu Chongyun’s body relaxed. She stopped resisting Wei Mingyi and let herself be held. Nestled against her shoulder, she murmured vaguely, “It hurts a little.”
Wei Mingyi’s heart went cold. She urgently pressed, “Where does it hurt? Do you still have some pain-relieving pills?”
“Hard to say,” Wu Chongyun whispered. That tiny point of pain vanished the moment it was perceived, as if it had been a mere illusion. Over time, Wu Chongyun herself could no longer distinguish if it was the Wither and Flourish Poison causing it, or the lingering ache of old wounds finally healing.
Sensing the melancholy emanating from Wu Chongyun, Wei Mingyi shifted her position and held her even closer. She felt lost and heartbroken. She had no way to ease her Shizun’s pain; she could only helplessly comfort her with feeble words. She murmured words of reassurance, but Wu Chongyun remained silent, leaving Wei Mingyi uneasy. She wanted to see her Shizun’s expression, but the moment she slightly raised her head, Wu Chongyun’s nose brushed against the side of her neck a few times. An unhappy hum escaped Wu Chongyun. “Don’t move.”
A shiver ran through Wei Mingyi, as if a current of electricity had shot from the point of contact, instantly spreading that tingling numbness through her limbs and bones. Indeed, Wei Mingyi didn’t dare move. If she did, would her Shizun just bite her?
The sky was a boundless blue, the ground bathed in bright light.
Worldly affairs couldn’t touch them. Though wordless, within the embrace, Wei Mingyi’s heart and mind gradually quieted.
Until two light, airy words drifted into her ear.
“Too stiff.”
Wei Mingyi: “?”
She had been trying her absolute best to breathe calmly.
But her Shizun had been nestled right by her ear, her hair brushing, warm breaths sweeping past, even her lips occasionally making contact with skin. Not turning completely to stone was already a testament to her skill.
Wei Mingyi grumbled inwardly but obediently replied aloud, “I’ll fix that.”
But Wu Chongyun had already released her.
She didn’t look at Wei Mingyi’s flushed face. Her gaze settled on the wrinkles at Wei Mingyi’s collar. She lifted a hand as if to smooth them, but in reality, her fingers only gripped the fabric lightly, twisting it into even greater disarray.
Wei Mingyi was bewildered, thinking something was on her. She looked down at Wu Chongyun’s fingers rising and falling, as if playing a zither. “Shizun?” Wei Mingyi called softly.
Wu Chongyun came back to herself. She quickly smoothed her hand across Wei Mingyi’s lapel, then grumbled, “It’s the same set every day.”
Wei Mingyi defended herself, “Just the same style; if you look closely, there are differences.” When she’d first arrived in the Nine Provinces, she had worn Wu Chongyun’s white Daoist robes with red trim, like crimson plum blossoms in snow, and had grown accustomed to it. Later, when she went to the Rainbow Feather Garments tailor, the designs were all largely similar. Gazing at her, she added, “I bought quite a few sets in other colors before, but Shizun never wears them.”
“Oh?” Wu Chongyun met Wei Mingyi’s gaze, her eyes innocent and bright.
Wei Mingyi conceded defeat. “If you don’t like them, don’t wear them. It doesn’t matter what you wear.”
But Wu Chongyun asked her, “You want to see them?”
Wei Mingyi was honest and didn’t hesitate. “I do.”
Wu Chongyun laughed lightly and swept her whisk at Wei Mingyi again. “Then you can keep imagining it.”
The two hid within the Eternal Cosmos Heavenly Realm to avoid trouble, savoring this moment of peace.
But the rest of the Nine Provinces wasn’t nearly so tranquil. The Heavenly Dao’s Paragon Debate was the great competition of the realm. Many families and sects had sent people, hoping to rise to a higher level. Yet this time, the champion truly exceeded all expectations. The Four Clans and Three Sects were all soured by the matter; not a single promising talent had been taken home. The remaining families, even those harboring intentions to recruit, didn’t dare openly accept outsiders at this moment and incur the Aristocratic Families’ wrath.
That champion belonged to neither the Four Families nor the Three Sects, and had even rejected the upper echelons’ recruitment! In the Pure Domain, Daoists gossiped with some restraint. But in the Wild Domain, Rogue Cultivators discussed it without any inhibitions. For a time, everyone speculated: who was this Wei Wuwang? What would her final fate be?
Chongyuan Sect.
Su Xuanjing and the others had also received the news.
It took time for word of the debate to filter down to their remote corner, but luckily, the Wild Domain was well-informed, and they quickly learned many details.
“With the end in the ninth month, they should be on their way back by now,” Hua Xiaozhu worried.
Su Xuanjing was unhurried. She said calmly, “Those factions won’t accept this result. Rushing back immediately would only invite endless trouble.”
“Are they in hiding?” Hua Xiaozhu added. A monumental title required commensurate strength; otherwise, they would just be another prodigy cut down prematurely. After a pause, she asked, “Elder Sister, should we send someone to meet them?”
Xie Xianqing was also present. She lazily stroked the Green Snake, which was flicking its tongue. “I can go.”
Su Xuanjing said evenly, “There’s no need. I’ve already performed a calculation.” The truth was, Wu Chongyun had previously told her their method of return. For them to go out would be counterproductive.
She then looked at Hua Xiaozhu. “The Cloud Mountain Herb has been obtained, so the medicinal ingredients are now complete. But the antidote pill is a Heaven Tier elixir. Junior Sister, what are your odds of success?”
Refining elixirs required the Alchemist to use their own magical power to fuel the Pill Fire. If her magical power ran out before the pill formed, even if she barely succeeded, it would only be a low-grade pill. Besides controlling the fire, she also had to execute Pill Condensation Seals—a stage no outsider could substitute for.
Hua Xiaozhu replied, “With Fellow Daoist Xie’s help, perhaps about thirty percent.” But expecting her to quickly break through to Nascent Soul or higher in a short time was even more unrealistic. The Heaven Tier Frost-Dispelling Flower existed in just a single plant. Dividing it, they’d have at most three attempts.
“That’s too low,” Su Xuanjing sighed. She didn’t say much else, only murmuring, “We’ll discuss it once they return.”
Supreme Peak.
Initially, some people believed Wei Mingyi and Wu Chongyun were merely hiding, and they searched the vicinity. But after exhausting every method and finding nothing, the watchers gradually left. Nascent Soul Perfected Ones needed to return to their clans or sects to hold the fort, as their absence could lead to a clan’s decline. At such times, even currying favor with higher-ups had to come second. After a month, almost no one remained.
If someone had the ability to seize Head Champion, they must have extraordinary methods. What if they had already left long ago? Why wait here in vain?
By the time Wei Mingyi and Wu Chongyun emerged from the Eternal Cosmos Heavenly Realm, Supreme Peak was cold and desolate.
Looking around, vast mists stretched between the azure mountains; the great and small peaks only revealed their tips, like islands in the sky. Though a place of fine mountains and waters, recalling the grandeur of the past, that great Dao-transmitting sect now lay in pieces, leaving only a sense of vicissitude and desolation.
If Supreme Peak was like this, the little town at the foot of the mountain was even deader.
The two had already used artifacts to alter their appearances. Even former opponents wouldn’t recognize them; they were simply passing travelers.
But as they passed through the small town, an unseasonal peach blossom wind drifted by, scattering colorful petals spinning in the air before settling on the ground.
Wei Mingyi’s heart tightened. She glanced at Wu Chongyun.
Wu Chongyun’s eyes held a quiet desolation, and she merely waved her whisk lightly.
At the far end of the peach blossom breeze, a Daoist in white robes appeared. In her left hand, she held a branch of peach blossoms; in her right, several bloodstained, still-staring heads. With a casual toss, the ashen heads rolled across the ground, covered in mud and dust.
Wei Mingyi recognized the dead Daoists. They were from minor Aristocratic Families—the ones who had stirred trouble before she’d accepted the Jade Register, though their protective artifacts had let them evade death then.
As for this Daoist—
Spirit Mountain. Wu Clan.
Wu Jianhuan said casually, “Those lying in ambush on all sides, I’ve killed them all.”
Finally, Wu Chongyun spoke. “Thank you.”
Wu Jianhuan gave a short laugh. “Back then, you only said those two words to me. Is there nothing else you want to say?”
Wu Chongyun: “No.”
Wu Jianhuan had expected this answer. After a long pause, she said softly, “You’re still alive. That’s wonderful.” She had so many things she wanted to ask, but from the moment Wu Jianchan chose to cross the Emotion-Severing Bridge, severing all ties with Spirit Mountain, they were no longer on the same path. She could protect Wu Jianchan and break through the deadly formation her two younger sisters had set, but she couldn’t leave with her.
Wu Chongyun nodded. Abruptly grabbing Wei Mingyi’s hand, she led her forward, brushing past Wu Jianhuan.
Wu Jianhuan added, “Goodbye. I’ll forget.” Secrets were hard to keep on Spirit Mountain. She had killed people; though the minor clans wouldn’t dare pursue it, the Elders might still ask questions. For matters one didn’t want anyone to know, the best method was to erase the memory directly. As her words fell, she took out a pill she always carried and swallowed it—specially refined for her by Yun Wugong.
Wu Chongyun’s expression flickered. Why would Wu Jianhuan always carry such medicine? Was it because, back then, she had defied that person’s decree and chosen to help her? But in the end, she only trembled her eyelashes and said softly, “Let’s not meet again.”
The brief exchange delivered a staggering amount of information, bombarding Wei Mingyi’s mind. Though she’d already speculated, the truth laid bare still made her head spin. Sensing the grip on her hand grow heavier, as if threatening to crush her bones, Wei Mingyi’s unease deepened. “Shizun?”
“Sorry,” Wu Chongyun said. She released Wei Mingyi, but her fingers curled, and her hand was immediately covered by a comforting warmth. Wei Mingyi seized her hand, unwilling to let go, her eyes full of worry.
“Wu Jianchan,” Wu Chongyun told Wei Mingyi.
“The Zither Paragon?” Wei Mingyi ventured.
During her conversation with Wu Jianhuan, Wu Chongyun hadn’t hidden anything from Wei Mingyi. She had no intention of continuing to conceal things, though her mood was low, her brows and eyes shrouded in weariness. She continued, “That wasn’t my original name. After entering the direct line, it was changed to the ‘Jian’ generation name.” As for her original name, no one ever asked; no one ever cared.
Beneath Spirit Mountain’s Clan Leader, there were nine branches—the direct line. The Leader and Elders almost all came from these nine branches. For a thousand years, only Wu Jianhuan’s mother had risen from a collateral branch to a seat, elevating her own house and replacing a waning branch. The generational names for the direct line, collateral branches, and fostered branches from other clans were all different. For those in the collateral branches, being transferred into the direct line was a supreme honor. She had once believed that too. It was only after opening her eyes to the mundane world that her worldview crumbled.
“What was your original name? Wu Chan? Wu Yuan?” Wei Mingyi asked.
Wu Chongyun was silent.
She didn’t know where Wei Mingyi got “Wu Yuan” from.
After a long moment, she finally spoke. “Chongyun.”
A name given by her mother.
A name that, after her mother and loved ones died, no one else on Spirit Mountain knew.
