The cultivation world revered strength above all. Under overwhelming power, even the loftiest ideals of justice were nothing more than hollow words.
Disciples of the Wentian Sect stared at Song Wanníng with stars in their eyes.
Today's battle had completely shattered their assumptions. They once thought of her as nothing more than a woman lost in love, but now they saw her as a terrifyingly capable cultivator.
She was, in a word, cool beyond belief.
As for Gu Qingyuan, more than a few of them began to look at him with a mix of doubt and unease. Even the sect master and the elders were shaken. Only now did they truly realize how formidable Song Wanníng was. In the past, she had always hidden in Gu Qingyuan's shadow, quietly enduring.
The elders exchanged looks. None of them dared speak out anymore. After all, Gu Qingyuan had been in the wrong from the start. There was no reason to offend Song Wanníng on his behalf. The crowd fell silent, broken only by scattered murmurs of astonishment.
Gu Qingyuan slowly pulled himself to his feet, swallowing down the pain, his fists clenched so tightly they trembled. His eyes were dark with humiliation.
He had wanted to subdue Song Wanníng and force her to cure Ye Chuxue. But now, everything had crumbled to dust. And yet, Chuxue's life still had to be saved.
Step by step, Gu Qingyuan approached Song Wanníng once more. His eyes were bloodshot, but the hatred burning within them had not dimmed.
Song Wanníng stood unmoving. Her gaze was unreadable, with a faint curve to her lips, as if amused.
She waited.
Thud—
Gu Qingyuan sank to his knees before her.
His once-unyielding pride bowed again for the sake of Ye Chuxue.
"Save her," he said. "I beg you."
His eyes shimmered with tears, thick with the fear of losing Ye Chuxue.
The proud Gu Shizu was now kneeling to his own junior martial sister—for the sake of a disciple.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Something struck deep in Song Wanníng's chest. It didn't hurt, not anymore. It just felt... laughable. If Gu Qingyuan had been this honest from the beginning, maybe she wouldn't have turned into that jealous, bitter woman. Maybe she would have let go long ago.
She had always had her pride.
But he had hidden everything, again and again. Lied to her, brushed her off, and made her doubt herself until the jealousy ate her alive. The man before her still wore the same cold, aloof face, but she no longer saw the arrogance she used to love. There was nothing left of it.
"So this was what I had clung to all those years?"
Watching the desperation in his eyes, Song Wanníng lowered her head, reached out, and gently caressed his face. She wanted so badly to destroy that face.
Her sharp nails suddenly slashed across his cheek. A red gash bloomed against pale skin, stark and dazzling. Her fingers glided softly over the wound, as gentle as a lover's touch.
Gu Qingyuan looked up—and met a gaze as cold and bottomless as the abyss.
The oppressive aura rolling off her sent a chill down his spine.
Her hand paused at his throat.
Gu Qingyuan froze, not daring to move.
Around them, people held their breath. Not a single sound could be heard.
Just when it seemed she might strike, Song Wanníng gave a crooked smile and turned away.
"Fine. I'll save her."
"But once I do, don't come crying later."
"Really?" Gu Qingyuan was stunned. He quickly got to his feet, the pain in his chest turning his face pale, though joy still lit up his expression.
"Of course," she said. "But I can only try. If it fails, don't come blaming me."
"Alright!" Gu Qingyuan didn't care about the risks. As long as she was willing to help, everything else could be endured.
Song Wanníng nodded and, with a graceful step, vanished from view, her figure drifting away like wind-blown snow.
Gu Qingyuan gritted through the pain and followed. The elders exchanged glances, then hurried after them.
The watching disciples, still buzzing with excitement, began to slowly disperse, chattering among themselves.
No one spared a glance at Bai Yang.
It was as if he didn't exist.
Bai Yang sat numbly on the ground, staring at the spot where Song Wanníng had disappeared. For some reason, he felt a weight pressing on his chest.
Shizun had ignored him.
Why?
She had treated him completely differently than she had the day before. Her warmth was gone. Her gaze had turned cold. But he hadn't done anything wrong.
Song Wanníng clearly had a cure, so why had she forced Gu Shishu to beg for it like that?
How cruel.
Grinding his teeth, Bai Yang pushed himself up, wiped the blood from his lips, and limped after them.
"Chuxue was still waiting for treatment." He had to keep an eye on Song Wanníng—only then could he feel at ease.
...
Song Wanníng examined Ye Chuxue briefly, a glint of frost in her eyes. The girl's face looked like dry bark, wrinkled and grey, her vitality slipping away like leaves from a dying tree. Just as planned—the poison she had administered was working.
She pulled out a pill.
"This will clear the toxins in her body. But her injuries were too severe, and the poison has already spread through her meridians. It will leave a hidden illness. Whether she recovers depends on her own fortune."
Curing her? Of course she could.
But how she did it—that was entirely her choice.
Gu Qingyuan frowned.
"Is there really no way to fully cleanse it?"
Song Wanníng was a master alchemist and a skilled physician. Surely a little poison wasn't beyond her?
He didn't believe it.
"There isn't," she said flatly. "If you think there is, go find someone else."
She tossed the pill to him and walked off without a backward glance.
"Cough, cough—!"
Gu Qingyuan coughed from the pain, unable to stop her.
"Junior Brother Gu," the sect master stepped in to block him. "Just give her the antidote for now. We can worry about the long-term effects later."
"We can't afford to upset her further."
"Yes, her life's hanging by a thread, that's all that matters right now."
The second elder's voice cut in, laced with sarcasm. He cast a sideways look at Gu Qingyuan, full of contempt.
The nerve he had.
"Shut it," the sect master snapped, then turned to Gu Qingyuan with a sigh. "Junior Sister Song was clearly pushed too far today. Don't provoke her again. Let her calm down. Then, maybe, she'll be willing to help more. For now, just focus on saving Ye Shizhi's life."
Gu Qingyuan turned back to the bed. Ye Chuxue lay there, utterly still. The sight twisted something deep in his chest. Suppressing every emotion, he finally fed her the pill.
The bark-like skin quickly regained a healthy glow. Ye Chuxue slowly woke, coughing up black blood. Her wounds began to mend at a visible rate, her appearance already far from what it was moments ago.
Song Wanníng's medicine was nothing short of miraculous.
"She's stable now," the sect master said. "Let her rest."
He motioned the elders to leave, though he knew the matter wasn't over.
Once they were outside, he pulled Gu Qingyuan aside.
Just then, Bai Yang finally arrived, swaying atop his flying crane.
He stumbled through the door, barely able to stand.
Lu Nanfeng, who had been watching over Ye Chuxue, gasped in shock at the sight of him.
Beside him, An Ze's face darkened as he barked, "Senior Brother, who did this to you?!"