I turned to face the direction of the sect and began walking, one foot in front of the other, my breath shallow as I climbed. After what felt like hours, I finally saw the peak.
At that moment, the birds on the mountain had scattered, and the mist seemed to vanish into nothingness. The mountain itself appeared to grow quiet, yet I didn’t dare to stop. The only thought that filled my mind was the terrible possibility… what if Qing Chen had died?
I carried my battered body to Qing Chen’s sect, and when I arrived at the entrance, it was already in ruins. The houses had been reduced to rubble, and the grand trees had all collapsed. What used to be an elegant courtyard was now just a smoldering wasteland.
Within the sect grounds, the central courtyard had also been destroyed. Standing amidst the wreckage was Qing Chen, alone and silent, his figure drenched in blood. He looked almost otherworldly in his solitude.
I froze in place, staring at him.
Between the trembling in my chest and the unfamiliarity of the scene, I felt like I was dreaming. I couldn’t move forward. It felt as though I had leapt forward in time and landed in a year where everything had changed. I was no longer that person, and this was no longer my home.
But now, standing before him, I couldn’t step back. It had taken all of my courage to come this far. I whispered, “Master?” My voice faltered as I took another step forward. “Are you… alive?”
Qing Chen slowly raised his head. His empty eyes landed on me, as if he were looking at something far, far away. He muttered, “He forced himself to sustain his life for so long… He should’ve gone back. Back to where he belongs.”
I froze, unable to comprehend what he meant. But then Qing Chen’s voice turned desperate. “No, come back! Come back to me! Don’t leave again! Help me heal my wounds first, and then I’ll let you go…”
As he shouted, he reached for his wrist, as if intending to tear open his veins. I rushed forward. “Stop!” I yelled. “I’ll help you. My blood can sustain you, but only if…”
Before I could finish, he coughed violently. When he collapsed to the ground, I caught him and held him tightly. His body was so cold, it felt as though all life had already left him. I called his name, tears streaming down my face. “Why did you come to save me again…”
Again?
What had I done in my previous life to deserve such treatment from him? I… I could only recall the fragmented legends of Qing Chen’s past. He was said to have once been a mere scribe, his life a series of twists and turns, until he became a terrifying demon whose name alone could send tremors through the heavens…
That was the story. Yet here I was, looking into the depths of his pain. I lowered my head, feeling his feeble heartbeat against my chest. All I could see was a man—broken, struggling, alone—turning toward me with the last shreds of his humanity.
As I hesitated, he suddenly collapsed, falling heavily into my arms.
Looking into his eyes, now half-closed and almost lifeless, I could feel the icy rage that had consumed him. I didn’t know what had driven him to unleash such terrifying power, but I instinctively reached out to shield him. Whatever he faced, I would bear the brunt of it with him, even if it shattered me completely.
At that moment, amidst the sharp smell of blood, I could distinguish the faint aroma emanating from Qing Chen’s body. It was a fragrance I recognized — the distinct scent of ginseng, a medicinal property carried in his blood that I had infused long ago.
I recalled the events of that day vividly. I had saved him with my blood and altered his constitution at the cost of my own vitality, pulling him back from the brink of death. I… I had saved Qing Chen.
How ironic! From the beginning, I had carried the essence of my former self, an essence that had once restored him, unknowingly chaining me to him once more. Now I realized… my salvation of him had been an act of repayment for the day he had saved me in return.
But… could it really be? A faint, mocking voice whispered in my mind: “Are you still thinking of that little girl? Hah!” The sound of the speaker’s laughter echoed in my ears, sharp and biting, as though mocking both my predicament and my ignorance.
Was this the same Qing Chen of the Immortal Sect of Stone? Had he not perished already? And yet here he was, alive.
0 Comments