Chapter 90: A Strange Request

Lanshin Pavilion, bathed in the faint light of dawn, stood shrouded in mist. Mr. Wuxiao lingered on the loft, gazing absentmindedly toward the valley of Azure Mysteries.

Before long, a small boat emerged through the haze on the Bitter River; as he looked closely, he recognized Ling’er returning by boat. After glancing at her, Wuxiao cast one last look at the valley opposite, then turned with leisurely ease to descend the stairs.

“The valley of Azure Mysteries remains unchanged, and that puts my mind at ease. Fortunately, the affairs of the mortal realm were resolved by the disciples of Tianshan; otherwise, I would still be steeped in worry and alarm. Yanshuo, Yanshuo, you’re better off staying at the foot of the mountain for now. The Bitter River has collected all your tears! For the time being, you cannot emerge!”

He went downstairs and returned to his study just as Ling’er entered.

Ling’er’s face was bright with smiles, her spirits high; Wuxiao could tell her journey home had gone smoothly, and all she had been tasked with was accomplished.

“Master, I’m back!”

Wuxiao nodded with a smile. “Good—come, sit.”

Ling’er skipped over, leaning against Wuxiao’s shoulder, and asked softly, “Master, did you miss me these days I’ve been gone?”

“Of course I did! No one was here to knead my shoulders, pound my back, light the fire, or cook my meals. I was most displeased!”

Ling’er grinned foolishly and moved behind Wuxiao. “Well then, let me make it up to you! Master, your handiwork is truly marvelous—my father couldn’t recognize it at all! Looks like, in the future—”

“Are you finally going to learn from me in earnest?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare presume. Your needlework is already the finest in the land. If I try to learn, I’d just be wasting time—I couldn’t match your skill anyway. Why don’t we each stick to our roles? I’ll cook, you handle the sewing.”

“But needlework is a woman’s domain. Sooner or later, you’ll have to learn. Why not let your master teach you?”

“No, nothing in this world is absolute. Needlework may be for girls, but men can do it too—like you, master! And as for fighting on the battlefield, women can do that as well. So, let whoever is willing and suited take on the task!”

“Are you the apprentice or am I? Other disciples do everything themselves while their masters enjoy leisure, but look at me! Aside from cooking and massage, what don’t I do? Having a disciple is like raising a daughter!”

“And isn’t that a good thing? I haven’t even served my own father, yet here I am, serving you faithfully! Besides, I often run errands and make money for you—tell me, where could you find a daughter like me?”

“Indeed, indeed!” Wuxiao laughed, shaking his blue fan. “Daughter doesn’t seem quite right. You’d make a better daughter-in-law—then I wouldn’t lose out! Do you remember, when you first asked to be my disciple, you owed me a promise?”

Ling’er started, looking at Wuxiao with reproach. “You’d use that promise to make me your daughter-in-law? Talk about not losing out—what about me? Besides, I’ve never heard you mention having a son or daughter. Master, don’t tell me you’ve never married? Do I have a mistress? When did you suddenly acquire a son?”

Wuxiao stared blankly at the blue fan in his hand, his expression adrift, and sighed for a long time.

Seeing this, Ling’er realized she had touched a sore spot and did not press further, instead gently massaging his back.

“All right, I won’t ask again. Don’t sigh, master!”

“Hmph! You little imp, always trying to pry secrets from your master. You, you!” Wuxiao returned to himself, yet couldn’t suppress his thoughts: In the mortal world, has my past become a secret now?

“What did I do? If you dislike me, then don’t make me your daughter-in-law! When you’re old, you won’t have to put up with my temper!”

Wuxiao flicked Ling’er’s forehead, laughing heartily. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting!”

Ling’er, rubbing her forehead, nestled her face against Wuxiao’s shoulder and asked with a soft laugh, “Then tell me, master—what is it I’m plotting?”

“Hmph! Little imp!” Wuxiao glanced at Ling’er, replying offhandedly, “Aren’t you eager to see that Young Lord Wei of Tianshan? You’re forever gazing longingly at his name written in your hand. I can’t imagine how you endure such awful handwriting. The characters are so ugly, and yet you laugh aloud—you think I don’t know?”

Ling’er froze, embarrassed, not knowing how to reply.

Wuxiao smiled calmly and reminded her again, “Little imp, do not fall for the wrong person! You are meant to marry my son!”

“Master, perhaps it’s better if you just treat me as your daughter. Your son and I could only be siblings—nothing more!”

“Hmph, that’s not for you to decide! Marriage is arranged by parents and the words of a matchmaker!”

The scene at the Western Spring Hall remained as vibrant and lively as ever, only the courtyard of Plum Treasure Palace appeared desolate and withered. Recently, all the beloved plum blossoms in Jianrong’s courtyard had fallen, vanishing without a trace.

Baiyu entered, sighing as always: “All of Senior Sister’s plum blossoms have wilted. I wonder if she’ll be heartbroken when she wakes?”

Looking at the bare branches, Baiyu couldn’t help thinking the lush grass covering the courtyard wasn’t so bad. The plum blossoms had been Jianrong’s pride, flourishing for years without fading; now, they wilted in tandem with their owner’s weakness.

Fortunately, no one else knew of this scene. All this time, Baiyu alone had tended to Jianrong’s needs.

“Senior Sister, when will you wake?” Baiyu muttered as she administered medicine.

Jianrong’s face was pale, her breath faint. Baiyu didn’t know whether to feel joy or sorrow.

Indeed, in these days, Jianrong had given Baiyu many opportunities to be with Lanshui. Though they were working together, Baiyu found unparalleled happiness.

Yet, Jianrong grew weaker by the day, instructing Baiyu to tell no one, only to fetch medicine for wounds inflicted by magical artifacts from the infirmary.

Suddenly, Baiyu was gripped by fear—afraid to lose Jianrong. Gain as she might, she dreaded the loss of her bold, capable senior sister—the one who sheltered and supported her, who shared her enemies and her goals.

Baiyu had great hopes for Jianrong. Many events had made her wish to gain even more from her—removing rivals and obstacles. Yet she didn’t mind that Jianrong was using her even more in turn.

On Tianshan, a place of cold hearts and pure cultivation, having an enemy or an ally was far more interesting than simply having an admirer.

“Senior Sister, ever since you returned from Snow Marsh, you’ve been bedridden and listless. All the plum blossoms in your courtyard have fallen—did you know? If you don’t wake soon, how can I explain this to the other sisters? Will you let them laugh at you, saying you fear Snow Marsh?”

Baiyu couldn’t help but voice these thoughts, only to be delighted when Jianrong’s brows twitched.

“Senior Sister, you heard me, didn’t you? Wake up—everyone at Snow Bamboo is rejoicing right now…”

As she spoke, Jianrong’s hand moved. Overjoyed, Baiyu quickly channeled her vital energy into Jianrong, not stopping until Jianrong opened her eyes.

“Senior Sister!”

Jianrong opened her eyes, looked at Baiyu, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “Thank goodness it’s you!”

“Senior Sister, are you all right? How do you feel?”

Jianrong forced a weak smile. “I’ll manage. Thank you for your daily care.”

“Nonsense! You must get better soon—there’s so much waiting for you!”

“What things?” Jianrong closed her eyes, murmuring, “Right now, I feel utterly hopeless—almost useless.”

Baiyu shook her head and gently held Jianrong’s hand. “Senior Sister, you mustn’t think that way. It’s just a serious illness—surely it can’t defeat you! You’re the most formidable female disciple on Tianshan!”

“Not anymore.”

“No, you still are—you always have been!” Seeing Jianrong open her eyes, Baiyu smiled. “No one on Tianshan can compare with you—not a single other female disciple. Xueze may have become a high official, but she merely manages the Snow Region—a cold, remote place far less important than here. We hardly ever see her; you needn’t worry…”

Jianrong sometimes closed her eyes, sometimes groaned as if critically ill. Yet a fierce unwillingness flickered in her gaze, mingling with the razor-sharp chill in her eyes.

“Senior Sister, get better soon! Xueze is really only doing trivial tasks—the title of Fairy of the Snow Region is just a menial job.”

“Is that so? What does she do all day?”

“Just some petty chores. Nothing as important as your work. The disciples say she visits the Snow Region at dawn and dusk, doing mundane things every day. The Snow Region is so far, cold and white—she’ll probably get an eye disease!”

“Why is that?”

“Most of the Snow Region is covered in ice and snow at Tianshan’s peak. Ordinary people grow weary of seeing nothing but white, and she goes every day. After seeing endless snow, if she doesn’t become ill, she’ll surely grow depressed!”

Jianrong smiled, her mind stirring: Good thing I planned ahead. Having survived this calamity, I’ll make sure they all end up like my plum blossoms. So, the Fairy of the Snow Region, is it? Even if it’s an honorary post—if you truly go there daily, you might be of use to me! I’ve long fretted over how to find a path, how to pass the barriers—perhaps you’re my lucky charm!

“Senior Sister, what are you thinking? Are you unwell?”

“No, I’m just steadying my mind. I’ll be able to get out of bed tomorrow. Thank you for taking such good care of me these days. No one else knows about my condition, right?”

Baiyu shook her head. “Don’t worry, Senior Sister. The people at Western Spring Hall are obedient; none have set foot in Plum Treasure Palace or asked about this.”

Jianrong smiled with satisfaction, looking at Baiyu expectantly. “Good. But my illness has left me weak, and I need nourishment. However fine the medicines in the infirmary, they can’t compare to a simple bowl of chicken broth. Do you think you could find some?”

“Chicken broth?”

“Yes, I just want chicken broth.”

Baiyu hesitated, thinking aloud, “Where could I find the ingredients for chicken broth?”

Jianrong smiled meaningfully. “If you truly care, you’ll find what you need anywhere.”