Chapter 30

Fang Weiyun had just finished sword practice and was climbing the stairs when he looked up and caught sight of Jiang Yu sneaking out of Shen Anzhi’s room, bent over like a thief.
He lightened his step. “Junior Sister Jiang, how’s Junior Brother Shen’s injury?”
Jiang Yu jolted, then forced a laugh as she turned. “M-much better! He’s much better!”
Fang Weiyun came closer, studying her face with open curiosity. “Junior Sister Jiang, what’s wrong with you? Your face…” He paused, a dawning smile creeping into his tone. “That rouge is quite an impressive shade of red.”
Her mouth twitched. “N-no, it’s nothing! Um… Junior Brother is still, still asleep. I’ll just, go now!” She plastered on an awkward smile and, before he could say another word, hiked up her skirts and bolted down the stairs like a startled rabbit.
Only her rapid little footsteps and a faint trace of medicinal fragrance were left behind.
“…” Fang Weiyun smiled faintly, tapping his chin with his fan.
Night fell. A thin moon hung high in the sky.
Counting the days in her head, Jiang Yu realized that with Gu Shuyu’s arrival, the next stretch of “plot” wasn’t far off. She needed to be on her guard.
She lay down and shut her eyes, drifting in and out, with no idea how much time had passed when,
“Junior Sister, wake up!” Gu Shuyu’s voice snapped through the dark. She grabbed Jiang Yu’s arm and dragged her from sleep in an instant.
“What’s wrong, Senior Sister?”
Chaos was raging outside, and Jiang Yu hadn’t noticed at all. Only now did the smoke seep into the room, making her cough uncontrollably.
Gu Shuyu hauled up the half-dressed girl, thrusting her robe into her arms. “No time to explain. Put this on, we’re going downstairs, now.”
Jiang Yu’s face went white. She threw on a random outer garment, but didn’t bother with the rest. Barefoot, she reached back and caught Gu Shuyu’s hand. “Forget it, Senior Sister, I’ll dress later. There’s a fire, we need to run.”
Gu Shuyu’s hand stilled for a heartbeat. Her cool features softened with sudden pride. “Junior Sister has grown up.”
With a sweep of her sword, she flung the door open. A wave of scorching heat and choking smoke slammed into them, prickling every pore.
In moments, sweat dampened their backs.
A flare of icy spiritual energy burst from Gu Shuyu’s blade, cutting through the smoke. Yet the mist outside was thick and unnatural, a strange white fog. The sword’s qi hacked open a narrow path; hot wind whipped Jiang Yu’s long black hair into a wild banner behind her.
From a dark corner behind them, a shriveled black hand shot out, claws reaching for Jiang Yu’s hair, missing by a hair’s breadth.
“Ding, ding, !” The Copper Coin Sword shrieked through the air. With a jarring crash it buried half its length in the floorboards, severing the attacking hand in mid-grab. Black blood sprayed everywhere.
“Aaaahhhh!” The monster’s howl was a jagged, ear-splitting screech.
The sound stabbed straight through her eardrums, like it wanted to dance on every last nerve in her body.
The blast of spiritual power picked Jiang Yu up and flung her forward. She slammed into the railing with a violent jolt.
Her head rang like someone had punched it. A sheet of hot liquid trickled down her face.
“Senior Sister.” For the first time, she heard Shen Anzhi’s voice stripped of its lazy calm, sharp with worry, anger, fear…
She knew the wound on her forehead must be huge, about the size of a fist. Sticky blood blurred her vision. Forcing her eyes open, she just barely made out the streak of black as he vaulted over the railing toward them.
Relief tugged at the corners of her mouth, but in the next instant, she deflated like a pierced balloon.
Gu Shuyu was closest to him. He steadied her first. Her sword dug into the floor with a loud crack as she used it to brace herself, left hand clamped over her ear. Hot blood seeped through her pale fingers.
Her blurred gaze flicked to Shen Anzhi’s indistinct profile, noting how his eyes were fixed firmly on Jiang Yu. She shoved at him weakly, urgent. “I’m fine. Save Junior Sister first!”
“I’ll get you both out.” Shen Anzhi exhaled softly, hoisting Gu Shuyu upright. He sped toward Jiang Yu, blink-stepping the distance. At the sight of her, his fingers trembled.
While they spoke, Jiang Yu had already pushed herself half upright, gripping the railing to keep from toppling. She covered her mouth and nose, trying to block the smoke. Blood and the aching resonance in her chest clogged her throat and sinuses all at once.
She dragged in ragged breaths; even lifting a single finger felt like too much.
By the time Shen Anzhi reached her, she was floating on the edge of unconsciousness, vision flickering in blocks of black and white.
Cold-eyed, he looked every inch a sword drawn from its scabbard, ready to leave anyone who drew near in pieces, or bury them with a single stroke.
His gaze was as deep and dark as a bottomless well, winter wind howling through it. But the moment those phoenix eyes, stripped of any smile, settled on you, they felt frighteningly intent.
“Junior…” Her lips barely moved. She looked up at him, eyes rimmed red, managing only a twitch of her fingers.
A storm churned in his eyes. His fingertips brushed the ends of her hair, then he bent suddenly and scooped her into his arms. Pale knuckles tightened, pulling her close, her body pressed firmly to his chest. Her soft head dropped into the hollow of his shoulder.
He should have taken this chance to drown whatever didn’t belong in his heart. Yet the sight of blood on her forehead sent a stabbing ache through it instead, a wave of anger and pain surging up to flood his limbs.
Why did he care so much…
Her blood smeared his collar and the back of his hand, sticky and hot. An inexplicable panic clawed at him.
Jiang Yu felt him freeze for a heartbeat and guessed what he was thinking. She knew he disliked the feeling of blood on his skin, loathed it, even.
“Sorry, Junior Brother. I got blood on your robes.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Once this is over, I’ll wash them for you.”
Shen Anzhi’s arms tightened around her before he even thought about it. “Senior Sister, save your breath. I’ll get you out of here.”
He didn’t hate her blood on him. The usual bright little peach in his arms now shriveled, the lively little fledgling hanging by a thread, just when his restlessness had finally gone quiet, it shuddered back to life in the depths of his chest.
Pain flared along the scars on his back, trying to swallow his reason whole, to grind down his will and claw its way into every inch of his mind.
It had been days since he’d last felt that backlash.
He frowned, clenching his teeth so no one would see the slightest crack.
“No sleeping. No dying. Senior Sister…” His voice dropped, each word bitten out low and hoarse. “You are not allowed to close your eyes.”
Jiang Yu wanted to laugh at that, but laughing took strength she didn’t have. So she just turned her face into his chest and rubbed lightly against him, unaware she was smearing even more blood onto his robes.
Sword-light flared beneath their feet. Shen Anzhi guided the Copper Coin Sword with one hand, fingers shaping a spell in the air as he chanted under his breath. Sword qi surged. Robes snapping in the wind, he and Gu Shuyu rode their blades straight up, punching clean through the burning roof.
Tiles shattered and rained down around them. Moonlight spilled over their shoulders like water.
Curled in Shen Anzhi’s arms, Jiang Yu was completely shielded. The biting night wind cut through her thin layers, the cold forcing a little clarity back into her dazed mind.
When she lifted her gaze, she could see the sharp line of his jaw, his lips pressed in a hard line.
“Flying like this… we really do look like those heroes in the black-and-white static of those old eighties and nineties dramas,” she mumbled, a little lightheaded and babbling.
“What?” Shen Anzhi glanced down. Her face was white as paper, streaked in red. His fingers trembled; he pulled her closer and quietly unfolded a barrier around them, shutting the raging wind out.
Jiang Yu pretended she hadn’t heard the question and just shook her head.
Slowly, she tilted her head and peered down. The entire inn, inside and out, was an ocean of flame. And it wasn’t just here, around the medical shop, tongues of fire were crawling outward in a chain, hungrily devouring everything in their path.
Farther off, she could make out a few other locations, places Gu Shuyu had taken her to pay courtesy calls. Other sect disciples’ temporary lodgings.
This wasn’t some casual monster ambush. It was organized. Planned.
Cold crept up from the soles of her feet straight to her crown.
The only thing she had to rely on was the “original plot”, but even in this first dungeon, she’d already noticed it: from the moment she arrived, everything had begun to shift.
The way this world spun forward, the details the novel had never spelled out… It was starting to feel like she couldn’t treat this place as a simple story anymore.
Could she really change Shen Anzhi’s fate and go home?
She had no desire to end up as some human-skin lantern.
Her eyes lifted to his angled jawline.
Beneath them, the distance blurred by fog, it felt like she could still pick out the broken shouts in the wind, calls for help, clashing steel, desperate cries.
Ink-dark fog boiled like spilled ink. Grotesque, swollen silhouettes flickered in and out of sight, swimming through the haze and smoke, hunting for a momentary slip in some lone cultivator’s guard.
Below, she watched a disciple dashing toward the flames, only to be yanked into the fog by a set of talons. A moment later, the shadows erupted into the violent chaos of a pitched fight.
“Senior Sister,” Shen Anzhi said, voice unnervingly calm, almost cold, “the fires started at the city’s medical shop and spread out in a chain. Someone’s used lamp oil.”
“Save people first.” Gu Shuyu’s brows drew tight. Light as a swallow, she rolled off her sword and dove toward the chaos.
Shen Anzhi shot away on his sword, taking Jiang Yu to a patch of open ground outside the worst of it.
“Go, Junior Brother, hurry and help.” Jiang Yu sprawled on her back in the soft grass, limbs tossed out in all directions. Tonight the fog was so thick it swallowed the stars whole.
Like a salted fish refusing to flip over, she sluggishly hauled herself up into a sitting position and downed a pill.
Not knowing how bad the cut on her forehead was, she just dumped an entire bottle of wound powder on it. A gust of north wind hit her, plastering the powder all over her face. As the wound knit, it stung and itched at the same time.
What a miserable night…
Shen Anzhi’s brows pinched together, his eyes a deep, tangled black. He walked straight over and dropped to one knee in front of her, so close she had to still her hand and look up at him.
Why wasn’t she calling him over to fuss like usual?
His fingertips brushed gently across her cheek, wiping away the stray powder.
She blinked, startled, then, seeing he said nothing, followed his movements with her eyes and chuckled softly. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. I can handle it myself.”
“Senior Sister’s being stubborn today.”
His fingers skimmed her skin, freezing as they reached the torn, bloody mess at her hairline. A second later, he pulled back, thumb resuming its slow sweep along her cheek, wiping away the powder, gaze settling on the ugly wound.
His touch traced slowly down her bloodstained, pale cheek. Jiang Yu instinctively leaned away, only for his hand to slide to her nape. His pinky hooked a strand of her loose hair as he let out a quiet, helpless laugh. “Don’t move.”
She stiffened and put up two token struggles. His hand dropped, fingers hooking lightly under the tie of her cloak. With a lazy flick, he loosened the knot. The bloodstained fox-fur mantle slipped from her shoulders in a soft rustle.
Shen Anzhi took the cloak and, with deliberate leisure, began wiping the blood from her face. The red smeared across the silver-white fur bloomed into a strangely beautiful, sinister stain.
Jiang Yu stared, almost stupefied. “Junior Brother, you, ”
“It’s dirty,” Shen Anzhi said softly.
Flame snapped to life at his fingertips. The priceless fox-fur mantle went up in a rushing blaze, crumbling mid-air into ash. Sparks fluttered around him, reflected in his eyes, turning them unreadable.
Jiang Yu’s head was full of question marks as she watched. “Junior Brother, you took it off, now I’m freezing…”
Her brows puckered, but she didn’t quite dare voice a full complaint. She could only look up and blink at him, all aggrieved innocence.
What was he doing? That cloak was one Fang Weiyun had left with Gu Shuyu, and Senior Sister had just tossed it over her earlier…
“Got it.” Shen Anzhi shrugged off his black outer robe and tied it around her shoulders. The familiar clean scent of soaproot crashed into the lingering notes of her own faint perfume and rouge. As he worked the knot, his thoughts twisted tighter, and his brows furrowed without his noticing.
Why did she have Fang Weiyun’s cloak on her in the first place?
“Senior Sister really just throws on whatever’s at hand and runs.” he murmured, fingers deftly tying the bow. His voice was quiet, almost casual.
“The situation was urgent. And it looked perfectly fine, what’s wrong with it?” she muttered.
“It was bloody. An eyesore.” He stepped back, folding his arms, gaze sliding sideways as if what he’d said was only right and proper. But his eyes drifted upward of their own accord to the color returning to her face. In an unguarded glance, his gaze fell to her bare toes peeking out from under the robe. Her slim ankles flinched and tucked a little deeper beneath the hem.
Shen Anzhi abruptly turned away, putting a hasty step of distance between them.
The robe wrapped her in the clean, cool scent of soaproot. It felt like being cocooned in the quiet danger and dark temptation that clung to him.
Warmth spread through her limbs; the pallor left her cheeks. She tipped her head back to get a better look at him, only to see his back turned, fingers rolling the copper coin over and over as his breath slipped out just a touch too fast.
“Junior Brother, maybe you should go help Senior Sister and the others first. I’m fine here,” Jiang Yu suggested.
“And if I leave, and some demon catches your scent?” Shen Anzhi turned his head, eyes shadowed. “With the way you look right now, what exactly would you use to fight it off? While you can still walk, come back with me.”
“Fine, fine.” Jiang Yu pushed herself up and shuffled forward, flicking the too-large robe with a lazy wave. The black hem rippled under the moonlight, wrapping around her like the threads of a silk cocoon. “We’ll go help Senior Sister together.”
When she glanced back, her shadow wavered across the grass, and she didn’t notice the gaze following the line of her bare neck from somewhere in the dark.
Shen Anzhi couldn’t help lifting his foot, taking a small step backward to widen the distance as he calmly rubbed the last traces of powder from his fingers.
But the ghost of its warmth still clung there.
How strange…
“Junior Brother, your black cloak is really warm. What fabric is it made of? I want one just like it,” Jiang Yu said curiously.
“Demon hide.” His lips parted, two light words falling between them.
“…?” Jiang Yu stopped dead and slowly turned, heart giving a hard thump. “You mean, monster skin?”
“Senior Sister actually believes that?” Shen Anzhi folded his arms and smiled.
There was no mockery in the curve of his mouth. She couldn’t help smiling back, her lips moving twice before she conceded, “Fine.”
He dropped his gaze to her again and, after a beat, added, “It just has spiritual energy woven into it.”
“Oh.” She turned her head away with a little hum, as if nothing had happened. From her pouch, she pulled out a red lotus hair ribbon.
She tried tying her hair up herself, but it was either too loose or lopsided. After a few failed attempts, she found herself sneaking a look at Shen Anzhi.
“Junior Brother…” She lifted her eyes and met his gaze head-on. “Could you help me tie it?”
“Senior Sister really isn’t shy,” he said, folding his arms and eyeing her. “Give it here.” He took the ribbon and swiftly braided her hair into a neat, adorable plait.
Jiang Yu stroked it happily. All skill points maxed, huh? She edged closer to his side, shoulder to shoulder, grinning. “Junior Brother is so nimble with his hands, don’t be stingy about doing my hair again.”
She rose onto her toes, leaning in with a bright smile. Shen Anzhi’s lips curved ever so slightly; his pale fingers shot out like lightning, tapping her on the other side of her forehead.
The smack rang sharp and clear. Jiang Yu’s eyes flew wide. She clapped a hand over her head and stumbled back a step, dazed.
Shen Anzhi’s smile turned languid as he shifted aside, arms crossing behind his back. His fingers rubbed absently at his palm again, the lingering heat there refusing to fully fade. “Let’s go, Senior Sister.”
“Coming.”
His fingers formed a seal, and the Copper Coin Sword rose with a low hum, its cold halo circling lazily in front of them. Jiang Yu followed close behind, puffing herself up as she clenched her fist and, imitating him, jumped lightly onto the blade, only to slap her palm solidly onto his shoulder as she landed with that borrowed momentum.
Shen Anzhi stood steady on his sword, not so much as swaying. He glanced back, lips curling, eyes carrying some unreadable glint. “Senior Sister really never suffers even the tiniest loss.”
Jiang Yu had no idea what he was talking about. She beamed at him, bright as ever. “Junior Brother, let’s hurry.”
Shen Anzhi gave a lazy chuckle and let the sword carry them forward.
His flight, however, wobbled and dipped, the sword weaving up and down through the clouds like a leaf tossed in a gale.
When the blade suddenly lurched and dropped, that brief moment of weightlessness wrung a sharp yelp out of Jiang Yu’s throat. Instinct kicked in; she clung to his narrow waist with both arms like her life depended on it.
“Flying sword unlicensed, two lines of tears for pedestrians!” Her heart pounded wildly as she pressed close to his warm back, gritting the words between her teeth.
If she hadn’t reacted quickly and grabbed on, she might really have helped this black lotus achieve his dream of “accidentally” pitching her straight off the edge of the clouds!
Once they landed, Jiang Yu let out a long breath and tugged him by the wrist, her pace picking up. “The fire over by the apothecary is bad. I don’t know if anyone’s inside. Let’s put it out and get them out first.”
Shen Anzhi lowered his gaze to the pale joints of his wrist where her fingers wrapped around him.
Her courage really was getting bigger and bigger. As for those people living or dying… what did that have to do with him?
The innkeeper scrubbed at his tear-reddened eyes, staring helplessly at the charred wreck that used to be his inn. His forehead shone with cold sweat as one of the Crane Sect disciples held him firmly by the arms to keep him from dashing back into the flames.
“Those monsters don’t just kill the body, they crush the heart,” the innkeeper sighed heavily. “Without the inn, what am I supposed to live on from now on…”
Thick, greasy smoke clawed at their throats. The fire crackled and roared like it meant to swallow the sky.
Fang Weiyun flicked his sword, a cold burst of sword qi splitting the churning smoke. With a backward cut, he cleaved an approaching shadow into nothing. His gaze swept sharply over the chaos, and only when he spotted Gu Shuyu untouched did the tight string in his chest finally ease.
“Junior Sister Gu, it’s been a long time since we fought side by side.”
“Mmm. Save people first.” Her voice hadn’t even finished falling before she shot forward like an arrow, racing toward the trapped disciples.
Those “shadows” were lumps of thickened, tangible fog; wherever the blade passed, all that remained were wisps of greenish smoke dissipating into the air.
“Senior Sister, the fire’s dying down!” a shadowy figure shouted through the smoke.
“Gather the townsfolk and our disciples. Activate the Cloud-Frost Formation. Move in pairs, no one is to act alone.”
The man barked a quick “Yes, Senior Sister!” before turning and sprinting off.
Jiang Yu, hearing cries for help from within the apothecary, slapped a water talisman out. Water crashed through the fire chewing along the side wall, opening a gap.
“Junior Brother, let’s get in there!” she called.
“Senior Sister is awfully kind,” Shen Anzhi said, slanting her a look. He slipped an arm around her waist and vaulted them both over the wall.
Through the flames, Jiang Yu could make out a young woman in a green dress clutching the hand of a little girl no more than five. The two of them were beating frantically at the rear door, which wouldn’t budge, as if something heavy were jammed against it from outside.
“Junior Brother, over there!” Jiang Yu’s eyes lit up.
The green-dressed girl, Li Muting, caught sight of the pair vaulting in through the wall and instantly burst into tears of relief, as if she’d just grabbed hold of the last straw between her and death. “Please save us! Please, I beg you, save us!”
Copper Coin Sword flashed. In one clean swing, the rear door exploded into splinters. Shen Anzhi sheathed his blade and stood there in the moonlight, robes billowing like drifting cloud, his cold profile sharp and almost demonic.
Li Muting’s gaze snagged on that emotionless, beautiful face. She stared, utterly dazed, even forgetting to tighten her grip on her little sister Li Muyun’s hand.
“This place isn’t safe. The two of you, come with us.” Jiang Yu doused the remaining fire with a water talisman and stepped forward, giving the frightened sisters a reassuring smile. Her voice was quick and light, brimming with a confidence that soothed the heart. “We’re not bad people.”
In the original book, it had described how the Cloud-Frost Formation on the back mountain of Tianji City would open to shelter townsfolk and cultivators alike, leading them into the formation to take refuge.
Li Muting jolted back to herself. Her gaze landed on the red-robed girl beside the boy, the one with the bright, dazzling smile, and a little stab of self-consciousness twisted through her chest. She clutched her sister’s hand tighter and bowed her head. “Thank you, Miss. Thank you, Young Master.”
“It was nothing. No need to be so polite,” Jiang Yu said with an easy curve of her lips. She glanced sideways at Shen Anzhi putting away his sword, feeling something loosen in her chest.
He’d come with her to save them. So this so-called “blackened to the root” lotus, deep in the mud at the very bottom, still had a faint thread of light that hadn’t been snuffed out.
Even if he kept insisting he wasn’t the type to meddle in other people’s business.
They led the sisters out through the smoke and finally reached the perimeter of the Cloud-Frost Formation.
As soon as they stepped through the barrier, the array shimmered like a stone hitting still water. Gentle light rippled outward, wrapping around everyone inside.
A disciple ran over to meet them and gave a quick bow. “Honored Daoists, please come with me.” He guided the four of them toward the central encampment, where Gu Shuyu and Fang Weiyun were coordinating disciples from the various sects. The camp was orderly, wounded being treated in neat rows.
Jiang Yu’s eyes fell on Gu Shuyu’s clear profile. Her heart warmed and she couldn’t help but smile. “As expected of Senior Sister.”
Seeing them return unscathed, Gu Shuyu dipped her chin, a trace of relief passing through her gaze as she strode over.