When they reached Qiantian Sect, it was Shen Nanyin who woke Cheng Xueyi.
She opened her eyes in a daze, only to discover she’d fallen asleep in his arms—and suddenly nothing about her felt right.
She sprang up as if facing a mortal enemy, as though the world had collapsed around her, glaring at Shen Nanyin with murder in her eyes.
Whatever farewell words Shen Nanyin had meant to say died in his throat.
What was wrong.
She’d slept well, they’d made it back to the sect safely, so why did she look like she couldn’t accept what had happened?
Shen Nanyin watched helplessly as Cheng Xueyi paced in circles again and again, pacing doing nothing to ease her agitation, until she stormed furiously back in front of him and snapped, “This is all your fault! You fly your sword too smoothly! I’ve just been so tired these past few days, that’s the only reason I fell asleep!”
Shen Nanyin: “…My mistake.”
He hoped saying so might make her feel a little better.
But Cheng Xueyi didn’t seem to feel any better at all.
Her brows were knit tight, as though she wanted to punch herself, which left Shen Nanyin genuinely baffled.
Was falling asleep in his arms really such a terrifying thing?
If Cheng Xueyi had known what he was confused about, she would have said “yes” with absolute conviction.
He was her fiercest rival—how could she have fallen asleep in his arms? She needed to keep herself at a hundred and twenty percent alertness to guard against him!
Sleeping soundly in an enemy’s embrace—wasn’t that basically asking to die? If her father were still alive, he’d have made her kneel and reflect on her mistakes facing the wall.
How could she have fallen asleep in his arms!
It made her feel like she’d lost to him!
Cheng Xueyi stared at his face in agitation. Shen Nanyin had flown his sword all day, carried her back across a thousand miles while still bearing injuries, and now his face was pale as paper, the color drained even from his lips.
He was rarely this weak, but it didn’t make him seem any easier to take advantage of—he was still the flawless Daoist Lord True Martial and Bright Splendor, and no one would think less of him for a bit of occasional fatigue and illness.
“Forget it.”
Cheng Xueyi pressed her lips together and said, “It’s nothing. Eldest Senior Brother should go treat his injuries. I should go report back on my mission too.”
Thinking of the matter with the demonic race, Shen Nanyin would surely go handle it the moment he returned—she’d have to stick close to him to learn the details—so she said, “But I don’t know how to refine the Fire Spirit Dragon’s core. Can I come find Eldest Senior Brother anytime later to learn?”
She was an outer-sect disciple, attending classes alongside the other outer disciples, taught by an old scholar who’d barely managed to reach Foundation Establishment—there was no way he’d know how to refine a Fire Spirit Dragon’s inner core.
Shen Nanyin had already thought this through. “Take my token to Elder Su at Bishui Palace, Junior Sister. She’ll teach you how to refine spirit pills.”
Cheng Xueyi looked at the token he held out to her, the character “Shen” gleaming on its surface. Was he planning to use this token to be rid of her for good?
Nothing was said outright, but his expression and the distance in his manner made it obvious he meant to cut things off completely.
Impossible.
Don’t even think about it!
Just as she opened her mouth, Shen Nanyin spoke first. “Junior Sister Cheng. Few things that begin well end well. You and I were never truly suited, only brought together by circumstance. Traveling this road with you, I’ve gained much, and I don’t consider today’s parting any betrayal.”
“Next month is the inner-sect disciple selection tournament. I wish Junior Sister finds a good master and gets everything she wishes for.” Black Lotus novel Translations
Shen Nanyin bowed to her, cast a spell to release the seal on her silver bell, and said cleanly and plainly, “Nanyin takes his leave here. We’ll meet again in the inner sect someday.”
He said “we’ll meet in the inner sect,” but the way he carried himself made clear that even if they met again, they’d be nothing more than nodding acquaintances of the same sect—everything that had happened before would return to dust, never to be spoken of again.
Everyone praised Shen Nanyin, everyone admired him, but he never grew close to anyone.
In her five years at the sect, Cheng Xueyi had never once heard of him having any close friends.
People said he was gentle and easy to get along with. In truth, he was the hardest person to get close to.
He turned and walked away. Cheng Xueyi couldn’t stop him even if she tried—she didn’t even have time to get out a single word urging him to stay.
She watched with her own eyes as his figure grew distant. If Qiantian Sect didn’t forbid sword-flight within its grounds except in emergencies, he would surely have flown off at once, fleeing even faster.
As the venomous schemer she was, Cheng Xueyi didn’t mind in the least that he avoided her like this.
She turned around and looked at Taixuan Palace, so close now. She hadn’t even been gone that long, yet somehow, coming back, it felt strange and unfamiliar.
Shen Nanyin must have remembered her saying she didn’t want to return together with him, worried it would draw attention, so he’d left her in some secluded corner—if she hadn’t walked out herself, no one would have noticed she was even here.
She strode into the main hall. A Qing, who was on duty, saw her and thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, only realizing she’d truly come back after Cheng Xueyi poked her on the cheek.
“Xueyi!!”
A Qing threw her arms around her in excitement. “You’re finally back! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been these past few days! How could you take on such a dangerous mission—what if something had happened to you? I haven’t been able to eat or sleep properly, waiting every single day for you to come back, worrying myself half to death!”
Cheng Xueyi wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and the two of them ducked into a hidden corner, where she began pulling treasures out of her qiankun pouch.
“I came back loaded this time. Come see all the good stuff I got.”
Cheng Xueyi stuffed every treasure and spirit plant she’d gathered on Wangmu Mountain into A Qing’s hands.
“Take these and use them—I guarantee you’ll land a spot at next month’s inner-sect selection.” She said it with total certainty. “Even if you can’t find a Daoist Lord or Elder to take you as a disciple, you can at least find an inner-sect disciple to study alongside. Anything’s better than staying buried among the crowd in the outer sect.”
A Qing had never seen so many fine treasures in her life. Dazzled nearly blind by the glittering light, she grabbed and hid them at once, and only after making sure no one was watching did she lower her voice and say, “Where did you even get all this? And you’re giving it all to me? Are you out of your mind? Keep it for yourself!”
“I’m already grateful enough just being able to work alongside you at Taixuan Palace—how could I possibly owe you any more? Take it and use it yourself, find yourself a good future. Stop worrying about dragging me along as dead weight.”
As A Qing spoke, her eyes went red. “You must have suffered so much to get all this. Your color looks good though—have you already had your injuries treated?”
She reached out and touched Cheng Xueyi’s cheek and shoulder, and only after confirming she really did look well, not just putting on a front, did she relax a little.
“Something this hard-won—how could I waste it on someone else. Xueyi, you need to think of yourself more.”
A Qing gathered all the treasures back into the qiankun pouch, making it plain she absolutely wasn’t going to accept them.
Whatever Cheng Xueyi gave away, she never took back.
So she simply pulled off the qiankun pouch and shoved it into A Qing’s hands, then stood and said, “Of course I wouldn’t leave myself with nothing. I’ve still got plenty of spirit stones, plus treasures better than all of this combined—more than enough to get me into the inner sect.”
A Qing froze, a little suspicious. “Really?”
“Of course it’s true. Hurry up and put it away, don’t let anyone see it. Even if you don’t take it, it’s no use just sitting with me. Next month we’ll go to the selection tournament together, and I’m sure we’ll both find a good future.”
“Still no.” A Qing was adamant. “You risked your life for this—how could I take it without having helped at all? I really can’t accept it with a clear conscience. If you still think of me as your sister, take it back right now, Xueyi—!”
Before she could refuse it, Cheng Xueyi had already run off a good distance, her braid flying as she waved her hand and called back, “Help me turn in my mission and collect the reward! If you really can’t take it with a clear conscience, then cover my shifts for a few extra days! That trip really wore me out, I’ll probably need several days to rest!”
Carrying such treasures on her, A Qing didn’t dare draw attention to herself, clutching the qiankun pouch, unable to move, so of course she couldn’t chase after her either.
She sighed anxiously, Xueyi’s words leaving her both moved and bittersweet.
…The inner sect. · B L A C K L O T U S Novel Translation — Black Lotus
That dreamlike place—would she really get the chance to draw closer to it one day?
A Qing’s hands trembled as she tucked the qiankun pouch into her inner robes, pressing a hand to her chest and murmuring low to herself, “…She must have had it so hard to get all this. If I were of any use, she wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.”
As for feeling shaken on Cheng Xueyi’s behalf—well, it wasn’t too bad, really. Xueyi’s hardships still fell within an acceptable range; most of the time she just had to wait it out, at worst suffering some inner turmoil, while the one actually shouldering the danger was a certain tool of a man.
She’d thought it would be some time before she saw Shen Nanyin again, but quite unexpectedly, they were reunited very soon after.
After returning to the sect, Cheng Xueyi slept a good long sleep, and once she’d recovered, she took his token and headed to Bishui Palace.
Carrying Eldest Senior Brother’s token, she moved through Qiantian Sect without the slightest obstruction. Cheng Xueyi, in her plain grey outer-disciple robes, wasn’t looked down on in the least—whoever caught sight of the token swaying in her hand greeted her warmly and politely.
She even ran into Li Shoudao, whom she hadn’t seen in a while.
It was this very person who’d once brought the false rumors about Shen Nanyin and Fu Jinghua to her ears, directly setting off that whole chain of events afterward.
Li Shoudao seemed to be nursing some ailment of his own, brows furrowed as he came to Bishui Palace to have his injuries looked at. Running into Cheng Xueyi clearly caught him off guard. He was just about to ask what right an outer-sect disciple like her had to seek treatment from the medical cultivators of Bishui Palace, when he spotted the token wound around her fingers.
Beneath the black cord knot was a jade disciple’s token, smooth and lustrous, with the character “Shen” carved into it. There were plenty of people surnamed Shen throughout Qiantian Sect, but a disciple’s token of this rank, belonging to someone surnamed Shen—there was only one person that could be.
“Senior Brother Li, it’s been a while.”
Cheng Xueyi greeted him first, but he only stiffened, offering no response at all.
“You’re injured? What happened?” She leaned in as though out of concern to ask, and Li Shoudao immediately backed far away.
A female medical cultivator passing by answered on his behalf. “He spoke out of turn and acted arrogantly, showed disrespect to a fellow disciple, and broke the sect’s rules. The Disciplinary Hall punished him with thirty lashes, and he’s here to have the wounds treated.”
Oh?
So that’s what happened?
Cheng Xueyi had already been fully prepared to gloat, and hearing the reason, she burst out laughing on the spot.
“Oh my, how could such a thing happen.” She laughed, her eyes curving into crescents, lifting a hand in a token gesture to cover her mouth—though it didn’t hide a thing.
“How rare. Senior Brother Li, as Daoist Lord Guangwen’s disciple, always the most favored, always the best informed—and yet you still managed to stumble over something like this? Has Daoist Lord Guangwen woken up, then? He was willing to punish you?”
Cheng Xueyi’s words sounded like concern on the surface, but every single one of them left Li Shoudao more mortified than the last. He wanted badly to snap back at her, but his back still throbbed with pain, and with Shen Nanyin’s token wound around her fingers, his fury had nowhere to go.
“Daoist Lord Guangwen has woken, but he still can’t sit up or speak, and has no mind to spare for such matters. It was Eldest Senior Brother who punished him.”
…Shen Nanyin.
Cheng Xueyi suddenly stopped laughing, because she thought she knew exactly what Li Shoudao had “spoken out of turn and acted arrogantly, shown disrespect to a fellow disciple” about.
Utterly humiliated, Li Shoudao fled in disgrace.
After he’d gone, the female medical cultivator remarked, “He’s always been arrogant, spoiled rotten from Daoist Lord Guangwen favoring him—it was long past time he learned a lesson. Eldest Senior Brother personally dealt out his punishment, and he wouldn’t dare so much as argue back. Serves him right.”
The female medical cultivator winked at Cheng Xueyi. “I left out one ingredient when treating his wounds—it’ll still heal him fine, just hurt a lot more. Figured I’d help Eldest Senior Brother punish him a little further.”
“Well done.” Cheng Xueyi couldn’t have agreed more.
The female medical cultivator laughed and asked her, “Junior Sister, you’re carrying Eldest Senior Brother’s token—is there something you need? I could bump you up the line.”
“Thank you, Senior Sister. I’m here to see Elder Su. Eldest Senior Brother sent me.”
Once Cheng Xueyi explained her business, the female medical cultivator said, “Got it. I’ve got nothing else going on right now, so let me show you the way. Master’s up ahead at Qingxin Pavilion. You’ve got good timing—Eldest Senior Brother hasn’t left yet.”
Shen Nanyin was here?
Well, what a coincidence.
She’d been planning to focus on getting her own body sorted out these past few days, with no intention of stirring things up with him—she hadn’t expected to run into him like this.
They really did have a knack for crossing paths.
Cheng Xueyi looked past the female medical cultivator, and there beneath some towering ancient tree whose name she didn’t know, she spotted him.
Just one day apart, and Shen Nanyin’s color had already improved considerably.
He’d changed into new robes—fine Daoist robes, white like the other inner-sect disciples wore, but with delicate dark patterns woven through the white, a crane swallowing sun and moon, lifelike as though it might take flight.
He wore at least seven layers, inside and out. Elaborate as it was, it only made him look all the more handsome and elegant, graceful as he moved.
The wind stirred his gauze robes. His silver boots stepped onto the stairs as he made his way down. | BlackLotus Novel Chapter | BLACK LOTUS NOVEL
Elder Su personally saw him out. The two of them seemed to be discussing something—Shen Nanyin didn’t answer, and Elder Su followed his line of sight, then broke into an expression of sudden, meaningful understanding.
“Oh…” The female medical cultivator beside Cheng Xueyi wore that exact same expression.
“…”
Thick-skinned as Cheng Xueyi was, worldly as she liked to think herself, she suddenly felt a flicker of embarrassment all the same.
She tightened her grip on the token in her hand, watching as Shen Nanyin bid farewell to Elder Su and began walking toward them.
Beside her, the female medical cultivator’s mouth kept curling upward, eyes bright with an odd sort of excitement, fixed on Shen Nanyin as he approached.
“Junior Sister Zhang. Junior Sister Cheng.”
“Eldest Senior Brother.” Zhang Yi smiled brightly. “Finished with your treatment for today? Feeling any better?”
“Much better. My thanks to Elder Su and you all for preparing the medicine and treating me. Starting tomorrow, I won’t be coming by anymore.”
“Hm? But Eldest Senior Brother still has a few more doses left to take.” Zhang Yi blinked, startled.
“I’ll take the medicine with me. I’ll just take it on schedule.”
As Shen Nanyin said this, his gaze shifted to Cheng Xueyi. Facing her, his manner showed not the slightest difference from how he’d faced Zhang Yi.
“Junior Sister Cheng, good timing. I’ve already explained your matter to Elder Su. For the details, you can discuss them directly with her. As for coming and going from Bishui Palace from now on, you shouldn’t need this anymore.”
He lifted a hand, and the token Cheng Xueyi had been gripping tight returned to his palm as naturally as anything.
“I’ll take this back now.”
Shen Nanyin gave a slight nod, courteous in every particular, both perfectly proper and perfectly distant. “Junior Sisters, Nanyin takes his leave.”
With that, he smiled and walked past them.
Zhang Yi glanced between him and Cheng Xueyi, beginning to doubt her earlier suspicions.
So—had she just been imagining things?
Eldest Senior Brother and this junior sister didn’t seem to have any connection between them at all?
Then what exactly was going on between them?
Zhang Yi’s head was full of question marks.
Cheng Xueyi slowly drew her hand back into her sleeve, curling it into a fist by degrees.
The lotus-blossom scent Shen Nanyin left behind as he brushed past her still lingered faintly in her nose. She dug her nails hard into her palm, telling herself to focus on her health first.
Whatever attitude he wanted to put on now, she’d make him pay it all back later.
“Senior Sister Zhang.” Cheng Xueyi cupped her hands together with a brilliant smile. “Thank you for showing me the way. I’ll go see Elder Su now.”
Zhang Yi looked between her and the direction Shen Nanyin had gone, disappointed she hadn’t gotten to overhear any gossip.
Shen Nanyin left Bishui Palace and returned to the training ground, shutting himself away to steady his breath and recover.
His injuries were fairly severe, a dull ache lodged in his chest that wouldn’t ease, and even after Elder Su’s personal treatment, some measure of that heaviness remained.
Taking the pills hadn’t seemed to help. He thought it over for a moment, set the breathing exercises aside for now, and walked to his writing desk, settling onto the meditation cushion to read scripture and calm his mind.
Shen Nanyin’s cultivation practice drew from both Daoist and Buddhist traditions without distinction—whatever the classic text, he kept a copy of it here.
Drawing on the essence of every school to nourish himself had always proven effective.
Today, he happened to pick one up—the cover read five characters: The Sutra of Forty-Two Sections.
He opened it at random, landing precisely on the twenty-fifth chapter.
It read: The Buddha said, one who is lost in desire is like a man running against the wind while holding a torch—he is bound to burn his hand.
Shen Nanyin’s hand went still. His grip loosened, and the scripture he’d been holding fell suddenly, striking the table with a thud.
