Chapter 66: The Solution
The next day, Bai Jingxue met Zhu Chi. The woman was pale, her lips devoid of color. She usually talked a lot when drinking with Luo Nianshang, but today, she simply sat there, clutching her guqin, her silence heavy.
Luo Nianshang didn’t know how to comfort her. She had seen the recording in the pearl. She had always focused on slaying demon cultivators and saving lives. This kind of tragedy was new to her.
She wasn’t heartless, she simply lacked experience in dealing with such matters. She sat in silence, waiting for Zhu Chi to speak.
Zhu Chi finally looked up, her hand trembling as she picked up her wine cup, draining it in a single gulp. Her voice was hoarse. “I apologize for making a spectacle of myself, Venerable One.”
Luo Nianshang shook her head. “Are you alright?” she asked.
She immediately regretted her question. Zhu Chi clearly wasn’t alright.
She fell silent again, her discomfort growing.
She didn’t understand love, and this particular love story was filled with pain and loss. Unless the dead could be resurrected, there were no words of comfort.
Zhu Chi laughed, a bitter, empty sound. She had cried until she had no tears left.
This reunion, a reunion with a corpse, was a cruel twist of fate. She had lost her sight and would never know what her beloved had looked like.
Her centuries of searching had been a futile endeavor.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but her head felt heavy. “Was I wrong?” she whispered. “If she hadn’t met me, she would still be living happily in the ocean, a carefree fish.”
Bai Jingxue, listening, her heart sinking, felt a wave of empathy. Zhu Chi’s thoughts mirrored her own.
She suppressed her anxiety, continuing to listen.
Luo Nianshang, watching Zhu Chi’s despair, her heart aching, said, “It’s not your fault.”
Zhu Chi smiled weakly. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she needed to punish herself, to feel the pain, to find some semblance of relief.
Luo Nianshang couldn’t bear to see her like this. “That blood-red jade slip contained the evil technique that blinded you,” she said. “I’ve already deciphered it. I can restore your sight.”
But sight no longer mattered to Zhu Chi. She felt hollow, her spirit broken.
Luo Nianshang, her heart pounding, remembered those dark days after Fang Xin’s death. Fang Yue Lian had worn that same expression, her eyes filled with despair.
She hadn’t expected to see that expression again.
Love was a cruel tormentor, capable of shattering even the strongest hearts.
Zhu Chi clutched her guqin, her voice trembling. She didn’t know why she had come here. Perhaps because, as a sect leader, she couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable in front of her disciples.
She was the youngest sect leader of the Spring Snow Sect, a prodigy, a reliable and capable leader.
A sect leader had to maintain her composure. She couldn’t be consumed by her emotions, couldn’t show weakness. Even her tears had to be shed in secret.
But the Sword Saint was different. She was the Sword Saint of the world, a being on the verge of godhood.
To show vulnerability before a god, to weep before a god… it wasn’t weakness. It was forgivable.
Her voice cracked, her words choked with sobs. “It hurts so much,” she whispered. “She must have been in so much pain.”
Bai Jingxue closed her eyes, unable to listen anymore.
She had to find a way to bring the whale demon back. She decided to consult She Yuwei, who was still confined to solitary confinement.
She stood up, scooping Lü Qingyan into her arms, then quietly left the room.
Lü Qingyan, usually boisterous, was unusually quiet, her thoughts unknown as she nestled in Bai Jingxue’s arms.
Bai Jingxue, finding this silence unsettling, paused. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan looked up at her, her voice subdued. “I’m scared.”
The fearless dog was afraid? Bai Jingxue was surprised. “Scared of what?”
Lü Qingyan sniffed. “I suddenly realized how terrifying and real this world is,” she said. “I’m scared you’ll get hurt.”
Bai Jingxue froze. She noticed the slight tremor in Lü Qingyan’s body. The dog was truly afraid.
She couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through her heart.
She had been neglected her entire life. She had believed that if she was valuable enough, she would earn love and attention.
But it hadn’t been that simple. No matter how much she achieved, the neglect had persisted.
And once she had become capable, the neglect had transformed into cautious attempts to appease her, then, after her relationship with Lü Qingyan had been exposed, it had turned into fear and disgust.
She had gone from being invisible to being a monster.
But Lü Qingyan had been different. She had made Bai Jingxue feel worthy.
She understood. She cared.
It was ironic. Bai Jingxue had never cared for herself.
She realized her heart was pounding, her breath shallow. She forced herself to calm down, her voice gentle as she stroked Lü Qingyan’s back. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll become strong. No one will be able to hurt me.”
Lü Qingyan looked up at her, then took a deep breath, puffing out her chest. “I’ll become strong too,” she said. “And I’ll protect you.”
Bai Jingxue gently booped Lü Qingyan’s nose, her voice laced with affection. “Then you should focus on your transformation.”
“Yes!”
Their conversation ended, Bai Jingxue’s thoughts returning to Zhu Chi. She headed towards the prison, but it was empty.
She Yuwei had been released. She and Lü Qingyan went to She Yuwei’s room, but she wasn’t there either.
They encountered a disciple, and Bai Jingxue, stopping him, learned that She Yuwei had been taken away by an inner sect elder. Her current location was unknown.
“Jingxue, I can’t smell her,” Lü Qingyan said, her ears drooping.
Bai Jingxue, though disappointed, could only return to the mansion. She patted Lü Qingyan’s head. “It’s okay,” she said.
She didn’t want to face Zhu Chi’s tragic story, so she walked slowly.
As they reached the mountainside, they heard familiar voices.
“He Rong, what are you doing?!”
“What does it look like? I’m planting a roasted chicken!”
Bai Jingxue couldn’t help but twitch her lips. This little girl had a strange obsession with planting roasted chickens. Even Fu Yuan’s repeated punishments hadn’t deterred her.
Lü Qingyan’s expression turned somber.
Children’s make-believe games were understandable, but this was Fu Yuan’s usual path. If He Rong was caught planting another roasted chicken, her punishment would be severe.
Bai Jingxue, her kind heart compelling her to intervene, parted the bushes, her gaze falling upon the little girl in green, diligently digging a hole.
She had grown surprisingly fast. She now resembled a five-year-old child. It was unusual, but then again, she was the child of a flower demon and a human. Perhaps it was normal.
Jwan Jwan, however, hadn’t changed much. She usually simply accompanied He Rong, yet she always received the same punishment.
A pile of chicken bones lay beside the hole.
He Rong, oblivious to their presence, finished digging the hole and stood up, wiping her brow, then smeared dirt on her cheeks, creating a makeshift beard.
She placed her hands on her hips, her voice filled with pride. “This time, I’m only planting the bones,” she said. “That way, we’re not wasting food.”
Bai Jingxue was surprised. This child was a genius.
The little genius filled the hole, then jumped on it, packing down the dirt. She clapped her hands together, her voice filled with excitement. “Now we’ll have endless roasted chickens!”
Jwan Jwan was confused. She had hatched from an egg, not sprouted from the ground.
She stared at the small mound of dirt, then crouched down, poking it with a finger.
She looked up at He Rong, who was now much taller than her. He Rong’s confidence was contagious, shaking Jwan Jwan’s understanding of reality.
“Will it really grow?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
Bai Jingxue couldn’t take it anymore. She emerged from the bushes, her voice calm. “Of course not,” she said. “Only plant seeds can sprout and grow.”
The sudden appearance of an adult startled the two children. They recognized the white dog in Bai Jingxue’s arms, but they had never seen Bai Jingxue in her human form.
He Rong, bolder than Jwan Jwan, stared at Bai Jingxue, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Who are you, pretty sister?”
Bai Jingxue was about to introduce herself, but then she remembered how these two brats had loved pulling her tail when she was a cat.
It was time for revenge. She snorted, her voice stern. “Your mother sent me to bring you back,” she said. “She said if she catches you planting roasted chickens again, she’ll spank you.”
The children, unaware of adult deception, were terrified. They were about to cry.
He Rong, loyal to her friend, said, “I planted it! It has nothing to do with Jwan Jwan!”
Bai Jingxue, satisfied with her revenge, smiled. “I was just kidding,” she said. “But you really can’t grow roasted chickens from bones.”
He Rong, realizing she had been tricked, was furious. She stamped her foot. “Liar! I can grow them! I just forgot to chant the spell! I just need to chant the spell, and it’ll grow!”
She began to chant, her voice serious, her movements mimicking a real spell.
Bai Jingxue, watching her, couldn’t help but shake her head, shattering the child’s fantasy. “See? Nothing happened.”
But He Rong was persistent. She clapped her hands together, her chanting intensifying.
Bai Jingxue found her determination endearing. She patted He Rong’s head, smiling. “That’s enough,” she said. “Let’s go back.”
But she suddenly felt sleepy. She rubbed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze falling upon the mound of dirt. A small sprout had emerged.
This was impossible!
She blinked, her eyes widening, convinced she was hallucinating. She rubbed her eyes again.
The sprout had grown taller!
He Rong jumped up and down, her voice filled with glee. “See! I told you it would grow!”
Jwan Jwan, staring at the rapidly growing sprout, her brow furrowed in thought, muttered, “Maybe I was planted too…”
Bai Jingxue watched in disbelief as the sprout grew taller than them, its branches spreading, leaves unfurling, then a single fruit appeared, splitting open to reveal a tiny chick.
Lü Qingyan, also witnessing this bizarre scene, was speechless.
He Rong, however, was disappointed. “Aw, I thought it would be a roasted chicken,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of sadness.
Bai Jingxue suddenly realized something. She stared at He Rong, her eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.
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