By the edge of Water Cloud Expanse, Cheng Xueyi stopped and turned back.
“I’ve arrived. How much longer does the Saint Son intend to follow me?”
Fu Xiaoran had come this far only because his sister had asked him to, but since he was already here, he might as well see it through.
He hadn’t bothered concealing his presence—not because he wanted to be found, but because he simply didn’t feel like dealing with people. Too much trouble.
He hadn’t expected a mere Qi Refinement disciple to notice him at all.
Fu Xiaoran found it strange. He stepped out from the shadow of the trees, sword in hand, looked her up and down for a moment, and said flatly, “Whatever you need to pick, where it grows, what it looks like—tell me, and I’ll get it for you. Then hurry back to the sect. It isn’t safe out here.”
…Handsome face, but always scowling, and his tone was thoroughly unpleasant—though his intentions were kind enough.
Cheng Xueyi closed her eyes briefly, her hand moving toward the mission token at her waist. Based on what she knew of Fu Xiaoran, getting him to cooperate would normally take some effort, and he was just as likely to “mistake good intentions for ill will.” She hadn’t expected him to toss the token over to her in the blink of an eye.
“It’s at the cliff up ahead—a single Forgetting Sorrow Flower. The Saint Son must know what one looks like?”
Of course Fu Xiaoran knew the Forgetting Sorrow Flower. It was a Grade-A spirit plant, usable both as medicine and in artifact refinement—extremely precious.
The female cultivator before him was only at Qi Refinement. How had she gotten hold of a mission this high-grade?
Had the Qiantian Sect’s Executive Hall lost their minds?
Fu Xiaoran felt a flicker of doubt, but he was pressed for time and had no wish for further conversation. He took the token and walked toward the cliff at Water Cloud Expanse.
Cheng Xueyi followed leisurely behind him. With a tool at her disposal, she was more than happy to take it easy—and it would make for a smoother report back to the sect, too.
Her body still wasn’t quite right; her chest ached, her spirit meridians roiling. She badly needed Moon-Mending Grass to ease it.
Shen Nanyin was tied up with the demonized water sprite and might not make it to the Ghost Market in time. If Cheng Xueyi got there early, she might just beat her to it.
Lost in thought, she found she’d already followed Fu Xiaoran to the cliff’s edge.
The abyss dropped away, sheer and bottomless, right at their feet. Cheng Xueyi stood facing the wind, the shells woven into her braid glinting in the moonlight.
Fu Xiaoran glanced back. “Stand further away.”
Standing that close, half her foot practically hanging over empty air—wasn’t she afraid of falling?
Cheng Xueyi’s nerve was bolder than anything Fu Xiaoran had ever encountered. She was nothing like any female cultivator he’d ever met.
Hearing his request, she didn’t argue, obediently stepping back a few paces, her wide, guileless eyes turning up to him—so large they reflected his black robes and golden crown, giving her an air of unusual focus.
Something flickered in Fu Xiaoran’s gaze. A moment later, he leapt off the cliff.
For the Saint Son of the Desireless Heavenly Palace, picking a single Forgetting Sorrow Flower was effortless.
He was back in less than a quarter hour, holding in his hand a spirit plant that, had Cheng Xueyi attempted to retrieve it herself at her Qi Refinement cultivation, would likely have cost her nine lives out of ten.
Fu Xiaoran held the flower out to her. Cheng Xueyi reached for it—and didn’t get it.
Of course it wasn’t going to be that simple. black lotus novel Translation | Black Lotus Novel
She lifted her eyes to meet his. The instant their gazes crossed, Fu Xiaoran spoke: “While retrieving the herb, I encountered the companion demon guarding it—at the very least Foundation Establishment Great Perfection in cultivation. Had you gone down there yourself, you’d already be a corpse at the bottom of that river.”
“…And?”
She knew there was more behind his words.
Fu Xiaoran’s brow furrowed slightly. He hesitated before continuing. “Between you and Daoist Lord True Martial and Bright Splendor, there can only ever be a senior-junior relationship.”
Cheng Xueyi immediately thought of the conversation she’d overheard between the Heavenly Palace’s female disciples aboard the flying boat.
She understood his intent at once.
Sure enough, he went on quickly: “He is the dao companion I have chosen for Jinghua. Whatever entanglement you may have had with him before, there is to be no further contact between you from now on.”
This time he held out the flower, waiting for her to give a definite answer. “Understood?”
Cheng Xueyi looked down at the spirit plant in her hand, tilting her head with apparent curiosity. “I don’t quite follow the Saint Son’s meaning. Why would you assume there’s any entanglement between Eldest Senior Brother and me, that you’d feel the need to warn me like this? Just because he invited me onto the flying boat?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Fu Xiaoran said coldly. “I’m a man, and I’m not blind. If you didn’t have him backing you, how would you have dared stand your ground against me the way you did in front of the flying boat?”
Cheng Xueyi muttered something under her breath—which, oddly, Fu Xiaoran failed to catch.
He was in something of a hurry to leave, so he stepped closer and asked, “Well? Do you understand or not?”
This time Cheng Xueyi raised her voice a little. “You want me to agree to something like this for just one Forgetting Sorrow Flower? The Saint Son is being rather stingy.”
Quite the appetite, too.
Fu Xiaoran found her haggling genuinely unbecoming.
He said impatiently, “If you want more, just say so. But if I ever find out later that you’ve gone back on your word, I’ll make sure you pay it back a thousandfold.”
Cheng Xueyi laughed. The silver bell at her waist stirred in the wind, ringing out clear and bright.
A sudden throb of pain shot through Fu Xiaoran’s temple, the veins on his forehead pulsing.
He saw the girl standing so close to him suddenly spread her arms, as if to embrace him.
He froze. By the time he came back to his senses, he’d already been shoved hard off the cliff.
“You want me to agree? Sure. Go take a bath in Water Cloud Expanse first, Saint Son, and I’ll agree to anything you like!”
Cheng Xueyi stood at the cliff’s edge, wiping her hands off with distaste where they’d touched him, calling down to the man below trying to fly back up. “If you don’t do as I say, I’ll go straight back and cling to Eldest Senior Brother instead. Aren’t you a man? Think you can compete with him for my attention?”
—Splash.
Cheng Xueyi let her spiritual hearing extend, catching the sound of the fall deep within Water Cloud Expanse.
Ridiculous.
“I’m a man, and I’m not blind,” huh. Not blind, sure. Just an idiot.
Men were all idiots.
Cheng Xueyi rolled her eyes, tucked the Forgetting Sorrow Flower away, and turned to leave.
Time was short and the mission pressing—she had no time to waste playing around with him here.
Not long after she left, another person arrived at the spot, just in time to see Fu Xiaoran soaked from head to toe, his face marked with scrapes.
Fu Xiaoran looked up, and his gaze met the newcomer’s thoughtful one. He said stiffly, “A demon beast was causing trouble at the bottom of the water. Having seen it, I couldn’t simply stand by, so I went down to deal with it. Does Daoist Lord Shen have some objection?”
The newcomer was Shen Nanyin.
The chaos caused by the water sprite was, after all, an internal matter of the Yujing Shenzong. Having helped capture the sprite, she’d been on her way to the Ghost Market to retrieve the Moon-Mending Grass.
Once she had it, she planned to return to the sect, report the matter to her Master, and deal with it properly afterward.
Since it involved the demonic race, even if it was technically Yujing’s internal affair, she couldn’t simply let it go. — Black Lotus novel Novel · Black Lotus Novel
“No objection.”
That was what Shen Nanyin said, but the look on her face as she gazed at the rushing water at the bottom of Water Cloud Expanse seemed anything but straightforward.
Fu Xiaoran, thoroughly uncomfortable in his soaked clothes, cast a drying incantation on himself and immediately asked, “Where’s my sister? You came here alone—where did you leave her?!”
He looked genuinely rattled.
Shen Nanyin soothed him gently. “The Saintess is with Senior Brother Ye. When I probed the water sprite’s spiritual core, I found its corruption was connected to your sect’s flying boat, so I’ve sealed it off.”
“What?” Fu Xiaoran’s brow snapped tight. “Connected to the Desireless Heavenly Palace’s flying boat? Impossible. I brought that boat myself—I’ve personally overseen its operation and security the entire way. There’s no way it has anything to do with the demonic race.”
“Calm yourself, Saint Son. I don’t mean to accuse you, nor do I suspect the Desireless Heavenly Palace. It’s only that many people will have come into contact with the boat since it left the Palace. Each of them needs to be checked before we can pin down the source of the corruption.”
Shen Nanyin continued evenly, “As for the details, the Saint Son may ask Senior Brother Ye when you return. Now that I’ve found you, the Saintess’s safety is back in your hands. I still have urgent matters to attend to. Excuse me.”
Whatever the true cause of the water sprite’s corruption—whether some member of the demonic race really had escaped the Heart-Devouring Valley to wreak havoc, and what their purpose might be—for now, at least, there had been no casualties, only damage to crops and livelihoods. With Yujing’s people assisting, restoring things would be no great difficulty.
Yu Buran still lay in Bishui Palace, his life hanging by a thread. Shen Nanyin had to get the Moon-Mending Grass first.
Perhaps once Yu Buran woke, he could reveal something Shen Nanyin had missed while wrapping up the investigation.
Fu Xiaoran watched her go. Once his thoughts returned from the matter of the water sprite, he couldn’t help a cold laugh.
If she had urgent business, why bother coming all this way?
Was she really here just to hand his sister back to him?
Then where was Jinghua? Why not just bring her along and deliver her directly?
Was this route really that convenient a detour?
Fu Xiaoran cast an icy glance down into the depths of Water Cloud Expanse and thought coldly: What terrible taste.
A rainbow-hued glow shaped like a phoenix’s cry lit up the horizon, its light rippling out across vast distances—visible, in glimpses, to nearly everyone in the cultivation world.
That was the signal that the Ghost Market had opened.
Under-the-table trades, treasures with no fixed price about to make their appearance—all depending on how many spirit stones you had in your pouch.
Cheng Xueyi had already arrived safely at the Ghost Market and was spending wildly from Shen Nanyin’s account.
She bought up a huge haul of treasures and jewelry, then resold nearly all of it. In some cases, because she’d been quick enough to snatch up the goods entirely, other buyers had to pay a premium just to get them from her.
So not only did she not lose money—she turned a tidy little profit.
With her spatial pouch stuffed full of spirit stones, Cheng Xueyi bought herself a change of clothes and a new mask, then returned in good spirits to the inn where she was staying.
This trip had really opened her eyes—both the vendors and the customers at the Ghost Market were absurdly wealthy. Casual little items went for thousands of spirit stones apiece.
She remembered that bottle of Peach Blossom Intoxication from before—she’d only gotten it by catching someone at the Ghost Market with dirt on them.
Combined with a few other odds and ends, that whole haul had cost only a thousand spirit stones—and even so, it had cleaned out her entire private stash.
No wonder the masked man at the Ghost Market who’d handed it over had sounded like his heart was breaking. Cheng Xueyi had thought at the time he was just putting on an act, unwilling to part with it for a mere thousand spirit stones—that he was being dramatic, as if she’d insulted him to the core, forcing her to give in only because he seemed ready to fight to the death over it.
According to her original plan, she’d figured a hundred thousand spirit stones would be enough to secure the Moon-Mending Grass.
Now it looked like she’d need two hundred thousand to be safe.
Fortunately, Shen Nanyin really was rich—the funds in her account seemed bottomless, refilling themselves no matter how much Cheng Xueyi drew from it, and she’d managed to rack up over two hundred thousand.
He must be broke by now.
Spend all his money, and see how he tries to compete with her for anything after this.
Everything was in place; all that remained was to act.
Once she had the Moon-Mending Grass and stabilized her demonic energy, she could release a bit more of her power and try to enter the inner sect gates, getting closer to the White Marsh Chart.
Five years, and finally this kind of opportunity had come—with a full purse besides, no longer scraping by. She felt a hope for the future she hadn’t known in a long time.
Taking advantage of feeling somewhat better, she removed the silver bell from her waist, set up a barrier in her room, pressed her hands together in a seal, closed her eyes, and recited a long incantation.
The silver bell rose with the sound, trembling softly, and before long an urgent voice came through from within.
“Sister!”
Cheng Xueyi’s eyes flew open. “Fuguang! Are you all right?” · B L A C K L O T U S Novel | black lotus novel
“Sister, finally, word from you—you—”
Yu Fuguang’s voice suddenly began to blur and stutter, as if something were interfering with their connection.
Cheng Xueyi had no choice but to pour more spiritual energy into the bell, but her own energy was already unstable, and even everything she had wasn’t nearly enough to sustain the formation array properly.
She managed only to say, “I don’t get many chances to leave the Qiantian Sect alone. I couldn’t find a foolproof opportunity, so I didn’t dare contact you. It’s one thing if I’m discovered myself—it would be far worse if it dragged you all into it.”
There was no response from the bell, but Cheng Xueyi wasn’t too anxious—if Yu Fuguang could speak normally, that meant things weren’t too dire.
As long as he was alive, that was enough. Alive meant every other problem could still be solved.
Just as the bell seemed about to give out, Cheng Xueyi’s head splitting with pain, and she was about to end the array, she finally caught one more sentence from Yu Fuguang.
“Shen Nanyin came in. She destroyed the array Sister used to get out. She—”
After that, the words became unclear again.
The silver bell dropped onto the table, its light spent, looking like nothing more than an ordinary bell.
Cheng Xueyi, damp with sweat, hung the bell back at her waist, having gained a real understanding of what Shen Nanyin had done in the Heart-Devouring Valley.
Destroyed the passage she’d used to get out?
It didn’t matter. She’d already used it—she’d never intended to go back and resume being a prisoner without freedom, suffering the Heart-Devouring torment through every season.
That passage had been built while her mother was still alive, and its life force would naturally sever itself once used. Shen Nanyin probably couldn’t even confirm whether anyone from the demonic race had actually escaped through it.
The fact that Shen Nanyin had come to question her meant she must suspect the passage had been used.
Shaking off her suspicion wouldn’t be easy—but this time, fortune favored her. That corrupted water sprite ought to have set Shen Nanyin’s mind completely at ease about her, shouldn’t it?
She’d been right beside her the whole time, without leaving a single trace—and had nearly been devoured by the corrupted sprite herself. How could that possibly connect her to the demonic race?
Far too innocent an alibi to doubt.
Whoever had actually caused the corrupted energy, in the end Fuguang was safe, and she herself had come out ahead from the whole mess. That was good enough.
Everything else could wait.
Night fell, and the Ghost Market reached its liveliest hour of the day. Cheng Xueyi rested a while, then changed clothes and mask again and went back out.
The Ghost Market masks were specially made—once worn, even a Jingci Fazong cultivator would need real effort to see through to your true face.
The mask’s appearance could be redrawn according to your own intent, and as the pattern shifted, your entire aura would shift with it, all to keep traders within the Ghost Market safe.
In short, it was very thoughtful, excellent service. Cheng Xueyi approved.
Stepping out of the inn, neon lights blazed through the night, countless masked figures moving through the market streets, ghostly shadows layering over one another.
Cheng Xueyi headed straight for the location of the day’s first venue. In passing, she brushed shoulders with someone by chance—a figure wearing a snow wolf mask, unusually tall, dressed in white beneath a black cloak, jet-black hair drifting faintly beneath the hood, moving without hurry, elegant and composed.
A faint, cool fragrance drifted past—like white lotus, mixed with a trace of sandalwood, achingly familiar, gone again in an instant.
Was it just her imagination?
Shen Nanyin?
