Shen Nanyin snapped out of his thoughts amid Cheng Xueyi’s smug laughter, walking ahead with his expression unchanged.
Since the map on the brocade was no longer of any reference value, it was safer for Cheng Xueyi to walk behind him.
His pace was neither too fast nor too slow, pitched at exactly the speed Cheng Xueyi could keep up with without wasting time, as though calculated with precision.
Cheng Xueyi walked behind him without the slightest effort, and now and then caught the faint lotus fragrance clinging to him.
That night in the cave, she’d found the scent, grown thick and heavy, almost too indulgent. Now, walking along the edge of the miasma cliffs, she found the same scent proper and upright, clearing the mind and instilling a sense of security.
Strange, how she’d come to feel safe because of someone she meant to toy with and abandon in the end.
Cheng Xueyi suddenly grabbed Shen Nanyin’s sleeve. His steps paused, and he turned to look back. She couldn’t speak, so she shook her head toward the front. Shen Nanyin glanced ahead — the miasma spread thick there, and the path vanished.
“What the eyes see isn’t necessarily real.”
Shen Nanyin lifted his wrist lightly, and beneath his white sleeve, the vividly colored blood vine showed faintly — white and red intertwined, and the man whose bearing was as clear as moonlight took on an unaccountable air of allure.
Red suited him well, Cheng Xueyi thought, watching him step forward, treading into the weightless miasma.
His footing was steady, solid, unfaltering. He never fell.
When he crossed over on his own, he moved with decisive ease. But when he turned back to fetch her, he was careful, cautious.
Cheng Xueyi placed her hand in his, wrapped in the warmth of his palm, and followed him step by step into the miasma where no path could be seen.
Suddenly, she scratched at his palm. Shen Nanyin startled, immediately looking to her face. Cheng Xueyi tilted her chin toward his lips — unable to speak, she could only hum and murmur to make herself understood.
Shen Nanyin understood her meaning well.
“I’ve cultivated to the ninth layer of Ice Heart Sword Intent. Miasma of this level is nothing to me.”
…
Only because Cheng Xueyi had suppressed her spiritual meridians, leaving just a trace of power in her body — otherwise she’d surely have surpassed him!
Shen Nanyin’s tone was ordinary, earnest and gentle, without a trace of boastfulness, and yet Cheng Xueyi felt thoroughly out of sorts, unable to look at him without irritation.
She wanted so badly to fight him, just to see who would win.
Her hands itched unbearably, but she couldn’t actually strike him, so she couldn’t help but dig her fingers into his palm.
Walking through the miasma, danger could strike at any moment, so Shen Nanyin couldn’t let go of her hand, could only let her scratch away at will.
Her scratching left his palm itching and aching, but he wouldn’t let himself be distracted by it, staying focused on their surroundings.
Cheng Xueyi soon suppressed the restlessness in her chest and focused on watching the path ahead as well.
The moment she looked up, something suddenly dropped, slamming down right in front of them. The enormous crash and the instant shift in their surroundings made Cheng Xueyi’s pupils constrict.
She stared fixedly at the thing, unsure how to even describe it. It resembled a giant silkworm cocoon, earthy yellow in color, with something faintly writhing on its surface. Looking closer, she realized they were worms.
What wrapped and coiled around the thing wasn’t silk thread or a cocoon shell — it was densely packed nematodes.
Cheng Xueyi hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days, her stomach long since empty, but her tolerance was strong, and she didn’t feel especially hungry, nor was she much disgusted by the sight before her.
In the Heart-Devouring Valley, she’d seen far more disgusting things — lower demonic beasts slaughtering and devouring each other’s flesh and blood, far more stimulating than this. This was nothing by comparison.
She didn’t even look away, calmly studying the thing to figure out what it was — but Shen Nanyin had already swiftly blocked her view.
She couldn’t speak, and soon couldn’t see either — his warm hand covered her eyes, shielding them completely. Aside from the rank stench, she knew nothing of what was happening around her. B L A C K L O T U S Novel Archive · Black Lotus Novel
Even that rank stench was quickly smothered by the lotus fragrance clinging to Shen Nanyin.
Cheng Xueyi was swept up into his arms. His heartbeat carried through the fabric between them, steady and calm, not quickened in the least by the fighting.
The chill in her body gradually faded in his embrace. As she was jostled about while he dodged left and right, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from being thrown off.
Xueyi buried her face against Shen Nanyin’s neck, so he could free one hand to deal with the nematodes.
The hollow of his neck was warmer than the rest of him, pressed close to the soft curve of his earlobe. Cheng Xueyi breathed out a faint, cool breath.
This position was far too intimate, but there seemed to be no better choice for now.
To keep her safe and spare her a fright, this seemed to be the only option.
Shen Nanyin wasted no time — one arm holding her, the other wielding his sword to wipe out every nematode, treading over the densely piled corpses of worms as he crossed the thickest part of the miasma.
Every step he took let out a wet, squelching sound, from the sheer mass of nematode corpses underfoot.
Cheng Xueyi peeked through the gap at his shoulder and neck, glancing down at the ground, and saw the dense mass of nematode corpses still writhing. Without meaning to, she tightened her grip around his neck.
Shen Nanyin immediately shifted to hold her with both arms, saying low, “Don’t look.”
…Did he think she was scared?
Cheng Xueyi took the chance to hold him even tighter, her body trembling faintly in his arms.
Shen Nanyin truly believed she was trembling with fear. Once they reached a place that was temporarily safe, he hesitated a long while, and between setting her down and the other option, he chose the latter.
He was a cultivator — his sword hand bore no calluses, his fingers smooth and soft, warm to just the right degree. He patted her back gently, once. Just once, then stopped immediately, and carried out the first option after all, setting her down.
“We’re safe for now.”
That was all he said.
Cheng Xueyi lowered her head as she stepped down from him, her gaze traveling slowly up from his waistline, until at last their eyes met.
Shen Nanyin froze for a moment, then turned and walked ahead. Cheng Xueyi reached up and wiped the smile off her own face.
She’d been smiling too happily. It had struck a nerve with him.
No wonder he’d have to be a fool not to realize she hadn’t been scared at all just now.
Cheng Xueyi quickly caught up with Shen Nanyin — he hadn’t gone far, only stopping at the edge of a cliff not far ahead.
The miasma had dispersed. This time, the bottomless abyss truly lay right before them.
Cheng Xueyi opened her mouth, humming and murmuring to ask Shen Nanyin if she could speak now. Without looking at her, Shen Nanyin only gave a nod.
Xueyi immediately spat the pill off the cliff’s edge, drew a deep breath, and complained, “That nearly suffocated me. I wanted to tell Eldest Senior Brother I wasn’t scared, but I couldn’t even speak, so I just had to let Eldest Senior Brother misunderstand.”
Her words sounded thoroughly helpless, but the smile on her face was so bright it was hard to put into words.
In truth, Shen Nanyin hadn’t been looking at her.
To be precise, he hadn’t looked at her directly.
He took in everything about her from the corner of his eye, but wouldn’t allow himself to look straight at her, not even for a moment.
Once Cheng Xueyi had laughed her fill, she walked over to stand beside him, looking down over the cliff’s edge, and said unhurriedly, “Now that Eldest Senior Brother knows I’m not afraid, you don’t need to fuss over me so much anymore. Let’s move faster — the sooner I get the Moon-Mending Grass, the sooner Eldest Senior Brother can head back to the sect too.”
Shen Nanyin said nothing, but when countless birds came pouring out from the bottom of the cliff, he still shielded Cheng Xueyi behind him and said, “Close your eyes. Don’t look.” — Black Lotus novel Novel Site · Black Lotus
Cheng Xueyi stood quietly where she was, perfectly happy not to lift a finger to help.
Shen Nanyin was like the tallest mountain in the world — these hideous, repulsive birds stood no chance of ever crossing such a peak.
She was in no danger at all. This whole excursion turned out nothing like she’d imagined — every bit of danger fell on Shen Nanyin, while she was protected so thoroughly her feet nearly never touched the ground, with leisure enough to spare for conversation.
“Has Eldest Senior Brother forgotten? Didn’t I just tell you, I’m not afraid of these things. No need to worry about me seeing.”
Without turning back, Shen Nanyin said, “Your mouth certainly isn’t afraid.”
He left the rest unsaid, and Cheng Xueyi automatically filled it in herself.
If her mouth wasn’t afraid, was her heart truly unafraid too? Did she really feel no disgust at all?
The first time she’d seen something like this — had she truly not been scared?
She had been terrified.
She’d seen it when she was very small, clutching her father and crying until the sky went dark, plagued by nightmares for ages afterward, unable to sleep without a light on.
But so what.
People had to grow up eventually, had to rely on themselves eventually — no one could stay by anyone’s side for a whole lifetime. However vicious or terrifying the things were, born in the Heart-Devouring Valley, she’d had to grow used to them.
In the end, whatever she had to endure — wasn’t it all the doing of cultivators like these?
Cheng Xueyi stopped watching. While Shen Nanyin dealt with the vile birds, she walked forward and crouched at the cliff’s edge, studying what lay below.
The brocade had marked the Moon-Mending Grass as growing on a cliff face guarded by a spirit beast. The woman from the Ghost Market had stumbled upon it by accident while falling into the abyss. Since the guardian spirit beast had already been disturbed, there was nothing for it but to take the treasure and go — whether she survived depended entirely on the fight that followed.
She’d won that fight, but the spirit beast, having lost its treasure and unable to catch the original thief, would pour everything it had into whoever came next.
The guardian spirit beast drawn on the brocade was shown flying through the air. She wondered if it was these very birds.
Cheng Xueyi looped a white silk sash around her arm, tied it to a boulder at the cliff’s edge, and leapt straight down.
“Eldest Senior Brother, hold them off for me — I’m going down to take a look!”
Shen Nanyin had no time at all to stop her, could only watch, stunned, as she leapt over the edge.
As the sect’s Eldest Senior Brother, no matter how busy the sect’s affairs kept him, he still had to lead missions outside.
There were always matters the juniors couldn’t handle, that only he, leading the group, could resolve.
Every time, he was the one who walked ahead alone, clearing away the difficult parts, leaving the manageable portions for the younger generation.
His junior brothers and sisters always trusted him enough to stand behind him, following his lead entirely.
Never once had anyone been like Cheng Xueyi — doing whatever she pleased regardless of what she was told, her cultivation low but her nerve enormous.
Shen Nanyin had no choice but to pick up his pace against the vile birds.
Only once they were all dealt with could he go after Cheng Xueyi.
But the vile birds were simply too many, each one a high-tier demonic beast. Shen Nanyin had already fought off many dangers along this road, his spiritual power already worn thin, and now, faced with the birds’ overwhelming numbers, he inevitably took a few wounds.
Just flesh wounds, though — he paid them no mind at all. He left behind a protective sword barrier to shield the cliff below, then chased after the white sash trailing Cheng Xueyi downward. Seeing they couldn’t stop him, the vile birds cleverly turned on the white sash instead, tearing it to shreds in moments.
With the sash torn apart, Cheng Xueyi might fall. Shen Nanyin couldn’t afford to hesitate, and raced at full speed toward where the sash had been.
“Over here!”
Halfway down, a voice called out and stopped him. Shen Nanyin turned to look and saw, at the cliff’s midpoint, a cave dwelling, its entrance thick with spirit plants — many of them rare, precious varieties, showing no sign of ever having been picked.
The woman from the Ghost Market hadn’t come this way.
If she had, these spirit plants couldn’t possibly still be growing untouched.
Cheng Xueyi recognized the varieties of spirit plants too, and without a shred of hesitation, plucked a huge armful and stuffed them into her qiankun pouch.
When she got to the plaque above the dwelling’s entrance, she plucked away, and then noticed the actual characters carved on it.
The dwelling was ancient, worn by the ages — the carved characters on the plaque had been eroded by time, some of them blurred beyond clarity. She could only make them out roughly.
“Xunjun Pavilion.” (Seeking-You Pavilion)
Cheng Xueyi turned back and asked, “Eldest Senior Brother, have you heard of Xunjun Pavilion? What kind of place is it?”
Shen Nanyin looked up at her, expressionless, saying nothing at all.
Cheng Xueyi’s movements paused. She jumped down from the roof of the cave, tucked away the spirit plants, and craned her neck side to side to look at him.
His expression didn’t change at all — his face had gone cold, plainly displeased.
Angry again??? Black Lotus Novel
She really did have a talent for it.
She’d made the good-tempered Daoist Lord True Martial and Bright Splendor, praised by everyone for his even temper, angry for the second time!
Well, let him be angry, then. Cheng Xueyi couldn’t be bothered to figure out why he was inexplicably upset again — if he wouldn’t say, she didn’t particularly want to know either. She turned to walk into Xunjun Pavilion, only for Shen Nanyin to grip her shoulder and stop her.
“Junior Sister Cheng.”
His voice low with displeasure, he said, word by word, “Why did you go down on your own?”
Cheng Xueyi looked at him and blinked. “I went down to see what was happening below. The woman from the Ghost Market on the brocade snatched the Moon-Mending Grass right out of the flying guardian spirit beast’s grasp. The Moon-Mending Grass grows on the cliff face, and since Eldest Senior Brother was holding off those vile birds, I came to confirm whether this was the place.”
Shen Nanyin’s brow furrowed tight. “I was holding off the birds — if there’d been some other demonic creature down here, what then?”
“Why wouldn’t you wait for me to go down and check first?”
“…” Cheng Xueyi opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found no room to get a word in.
Shen Nanyin cut in swiftly. “Why are you always so different from everyone else? Why can’t you just wait properly for me to come back?”
Cheng Xueyi couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Why should I be like everyone else? I am different from everyone else. And why should I have to wait for you? I have my own hands and feet, I can handle things myself — I’ll wait if I feel like waiting, and help if I don’t want to wait. Don’t worry, Eldest Senior Brother, I won’t drag you down. This concerns my own life and my own future — I know my limits.”
“You know your limits.” Shen Nanyin repeated her words, drawing a deep breath. “Your limits are to disregard your own abilities and act alone?”
It wasn’t the first time Shen Nanyin had felt he couldn’t communicate with Cheng Xueyi, but this time was the hardest to bear.
Because, just as she’d said, this concerned her own life and her own future.
“Is Eldest Senior Brother trying to say I’m overestimating myself?”
Shen Nanyin froze.
Cheng Xueyi stared straight at him without blinking. “Eldest Senior Brother, don’t look down on me. My cultivation may be low, but I’m not brainless. If I wasn’t certain I could keep myself safe, would I have jumped down so recklessly? I’d calculated everything before I made a move.”
She swept her gaze up and down over his wounds. “Eldest Senior Brother’s cultivation really is high, but so what? Aren’t you human too? You haven’t ascended yet — you’re still human, just like me. If I’m in danger, you’re in danger too. You can get hurt, things can go wrong for you too. If I don’t find a way to speed things up, hurry and find the Moon-Mending Grass and get out of here, won’t we just be facing even more danger ahead?”
“I—”
Shen Nanyin found himself at a loss for words, and only after a long moment said, “We’re not the same. I don’t look down on you — it’s only that you truly are still young, having only just joined the sect—”
“So what if I’m older, so what if my cultivation is higher — does that mean I wouldn’t feel pain, wouldn’t get hurt?”
What Cheng Xueyi really meant was: he shouldn’t think too highly of himself — no matter how high his cultivation, there’d come a day he’d stumble too.
But Shen Nanyin didn’t seem to catch her meaning.
He gazed at her wordlessly, his eyes complicated, and after a long while, the coldness in his expression melted back into gentleness.
“I’ve never heard of Xunjun Pavilion. This place is remote — it should be past Yunmeng Gorge, close to Wangmu Mountain.”
Wangmu Mountain.
The name made Cheng Xueyi’s thoughts falter for a moment.
“Wangmu Mountain is named for Martial Aunt Shenyuan — it was her place of seclusion before she sacrificed herself to the Heart-Devouring Valley.”
Shen Nanyin mentioned it only in passing, and after speaking, pushed open the stone door and walked in.
Cheng Xueyi came back to herself and followed, stepping into his footprints.
Though called a pavilion, the space inside was actually quite small — one glance through the door and you could see clear to the back.
Outside the stone door, spirit plants grew thick and wild, but inside, it was remarkably clean, hardly any dust at all.
Inside sat a single meditation cushion, and hanging on the wall, a blank scroll painting. Nothing else.
Cheng Xueyi walked up to the painting. There was no figure in the image, but in the bottom right corner was a line of small characters.
【Walking, I think of you. Sitting, I think of you. I came here especially, seeking you.】
So this was the “you” that Xunjun Pavilion — Seeking-You Pavilion — sought.
Cheng Xueyi reached out and traced her fingers over the line of characters. The handwriting was hasty, far from elegant — one glance told her whoever had written it had little learning, barely literate at best. That explained why there was no figure in the painting — someone who couldn’t even write well could hardly have painted a portrait.
And yet it was precisely that hasty, clumsy handwriting that made Cheng Xueyi’s eyes grow damp, tears welling up and gathering fast. Black Lotus novel Novel Reading — Black Lotus
Before the tears could fall, Shen Nanyin’s voice reached her ears.
“Don’t cry.”
He said, “This isn’t the place you saw on the brocade. There’s no Moon-Mending Grass here, so there’s no need to be disappointed — we’ll keep looking once we’re out.”
He thought she was crying over the Moon-Mending Grass.
…That wasn’t entirely wrong, either.
Unable to find the Moon-Mending Grass, coming all this way for nothing, and still not knowing how to deal with the meridian problem once they got back — that alone was worth a cry.
Cheng Xueyi tilted her face upward and closed her eyes briefly, saying flatly, “Eldest Senior Brother misunderstands. It’s just smoky and foul in here — my eyes got irritated by the fumes, that’s all. I wasn’t crying.”
Shen Nanyin watched her, eyes still faintly red, take the scroll painting down from the wall, roll it up, and try to stuff it into her qiankun pouch. She tried several times and couldn’t fit it in.
The small qiankun pouch issued by the sect was already full.
“…”
Cheng Xueyi grew a little irritated, and holding her breath in frustration, began pulling things out of the pouch, big and small alike.
Shen Nanyin watched, unable to keep up — there was so much, though none of it especially large, and much of it he didn’t even recognize or know the names of. Before he could ask what any of it was, Cheng Xueyi had already started putting it all back in, and by the end there was always something left over.
Shen Nanyin spotted the Peach Blossom Intoxication.
Even through the bottle, he could sense that faint fragrance — the same scent that had put him through an entire night of torment.
“You never returned this?” He seized the bottle at once.
Cheng Xueyi said carelessly, “I forgot. Does Eldest Senior Brother like it? Then you can just take it — I don’t have room for it anyway.”
It didn’t seem likely he’d stumble over the same thing twice in the same place. The stuff was useless to her now, no point keeping it around taking up space.
Shen Nanyin drew a deep breath and tucked the Peach Blossom Intoxication into his own qiankun pouch. Watching Cheng Xueyi walk off without the slightest hesitation, he endured it for a few steps before he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Junior Sister Cheng, have you ever once taken anything I’ve said to heart?”
A question straight from the soul, asked by the Daoist Lord True Martial and Bright Splendor — a man whose every word was worth its weight in gold, whose every word others treated as gospel.
Cheng Xueyi turned back, her eyes still rimmed red, looking utterly baffled. “Never, not once. Eldest Senior Brother, did you really not know that??”
