Su Jing checked again the face, and then again, just to be sure, but the resemblance was one hundred per cent similar to Chunwan.
The child's sobs grew louder, broken by hiccups, her trembling hands clutching desperately at the figure before her.
Su Jing tried to think logically about the situation. This couldn't be an illusion—this part of the forest didn't have any plants or beasts known to induce hallucinations. Nor could this be a product of Su Jing's imagination or some sort of madness - after all, why would she even dream about Chunwan?
Her thoughts flickered briefly to Feng Zhihao, and Su Jing recalled when she was forcefully made to portray Feng Huohua, Feng Zhihao's younger sister. The feeling of being caught in someone else's perspective was eerily similar.
But now I'm a man? Su Jing thought, stunned. The child had called her "Baba." Was this Chunwan's father? Or perhaps an elder relative?
But here there were no signs of a mechanism or fog to trigger inner demons. Su Jing wracked her brain for explanations, not understanding how she, who wanted to stay the most out of other villains' business, had their memories shoved like this in her face.
As she was wrecking her brains, the other hand from the side of the body slowly rose toward the chest. Su Jing only now noticed the clothes were of excellent quality, intricately embroidered, and luxurious. But as the palm pressed against them, a chilling wetness seeped through, spreading across her fingers.
It was cold, unnaturally so, and as Su Jing, or better said the man continued to move his hand further, she froze. Her eyes darted downward just in time to see it—a dagger implanted right in the centre of the chest!
The body shivered and Su Jing did not know if this was because of the pain or because of her own realisation. Chunwan was crying on the body's stomach, her small frame wracked with sobs. She was very pitiful, her grip holding on desperately to the man's clothes.This dagger was really deep in the body, and since Chunwan was moving, it made the wounds even more painful. This man was really almost with both his legs in the grave!
The heavy thud of footsteps grew louder, mingling with the crash of furniture and terrified screams. Su Jing tried to asses what was happening around but she could only see shadows flickering beyond the doorframe, casting jagged shapes onto the walls.
Chunwan froze momentarily before she turned around to look towards the chaos. She stumbled to her feet, tears still streaking her face as she scanned the room frantically. "They're already here!" she cried, her voice trembling with fear.
Her small body lurched toward the door and windows, her steps uneven as she tried to block them. She tripped in her rush, falling hard onto the floor before getting up again.
Su Jing watched the child silently, the man doing little besides breathing heavily, each exhale sounding more ragged than the last. Suddenly, his fingers pressed down hard on the wound, and an alarming surge of cold blood poured out. Before Su Jing could brace herself for the sensation, his hand clutched the dagger's handle and yanked it free out.
Because of that, the body convulsed, wracked by violent, gut-wrenching coughs.
Hearing the noise, Chunwan turned in alarm and rushed back to the man's side. Her small hands pressed against the wound in a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding. She fumbled for the dagger, picking it up from where it had fallen.
"Baba, don't do it! You won't be able to suppress your Cold Blood without it!" Chunwan continued to do that while putting the dagger near the chest.
Su Jing almost wanted to pass out if it wasn't for her not being able to control the body. Thankfully for her, the man continued to cough even more violently, and with a sudden burst of energy, his hand shot out and shoved Chunwan away. The dagger clattered to the ground, the sharp metallic sound echoing in the room. Chunwan stumbled back, her face pale.
"Get that thing away from me!" he growled, his voice hoarse yet filled with anger. "Never bring Black Tortoise Clan weapons before me again!"
Despite the strain in his voice, the sheer intensity of his tone caught Su Jing off guard. His voice was youthful, far younger than she had expected. He's not even past thirty, she thought, bewildered.
But her surprise quickly ebbed away as she reminded herself where she was. In the immortal realm, age was often irrelevant. Cultivators could remain youthful indefinitely once they reached a certain stage in their cultivation. For this man, the master of the Poison Clan, it wasn't unusual to retain the appearance and vitality of youth.
The man shifted painfully, trying to push himself upright. Chunwan rushed to his side, her small hands steadying him as he groaned.
Through the man's eyes, Su Jing observed Chunwan closely. The girl's face was downcast, her lips trembling as she bit back tears. She knelt submissively at her father's side, head bowed low. Her figure, wrapped in layers of fur-lined clothes now stained with blood, gave off a fragile air. Even her gloved hands trembled as if they were too delicate for this chaos.
Su Jing found it clear that Chunwan was not used to this kind of situation, having the appearance of a little spoiled miss.
"Do they think killing me will hand them my clan's power?" the man spat bitterly, his voice hoarse and filled with venom. "Bastards. Simply bastards!"
He continued to mutter curses, ignoring Chunwan entirely as his breath grew more laboured. Meanwhile, Chunwan sat silently, her hands gripping the dagger tightly on her lap.
The momentary calm was shattered by the thudding of fists or weapons against the walls. Chunwan turned sharply toward the sound, her face pale as she watched the makeshift barricade she had erected tremble. It was clear someone was trying to break into the room.
"Baba..." Chunwan's voice cracked as she whispered, her gaze pleading with her father, desperate for guidance.
The man's hand twitched, his fingertips swelling unnaturally and turning a deep purple. Su Jing felt a chill sweep through her as if the man was drawing every ounce of coldness from his body into his hand.
But his hand didn't reach the door. Instead, it swung toward Chunwan.
Su Jing froze. What is he doing?!
The man pushed aside Chunwan's fur-lined scarf, exposing her bare neck. His cold, bruised fingers pressed against her skin as though to strangle her, but the grip was loose. Chunwan let out a small cry but didn't resist. She stayed perfectly still, her body trembling, her tear-filled eyes wide and fearful.
An inexplicable sensation washed over Su Jing as she witnessed the man transfer his coldness to Chunwan. Her exposed skin darkened under his touch, purpling with frostbite-like bruises. Chunwan gasped, her breath hitching as the freezing sensation spread through her body.
"Go now and kill everyone, Leiju," the man rasped, his gaze locking onto hers for the first time. "This will be enough to deal with those dumb swordsmen."
This was the first time the man looked directly into Chunwan's eyes, as such, Su Jing was struck by the intensity in Chunwan's terrified eyes. They were wide and dilated, her pupils shrinking as though the weight of her father's command crushed her spirit.
"But what about you, Baba? I can't leave you like this!" Chunwan protested, her voice high-pitched and pleading.
The man's patience snapped. "Don't make me repeat myself, Leiju. It's bad enough that you can't control yourself. But now, it's not like you or I have any other choice."
He looked down towards her, his eyes cutting through hers. Chunwan flinched and quickly nodded, her movements hesitant as she tried to stand on shaky legs.
Chunwan turned towards the door, but before she could touch the handle, an explosion happened and the whole wall was blown to dust. The power was strong enough to send Chunwan flying and hit her body to the opposite side, a sharp scream escaping her lips.
The man, covering his face with his sleeve, grimaced as the debris fell around him. His expression twisted as a new figure appeared, sword in hand, aimed directly at him. He screamed, his voice tinted with frustration. "Leiju, act yourself already!"
Chunwan was coughing in pain, but she quickly got back in her legs, attracting the attention of the swordmaster who got now inside the room.
His white attire was immaculate, a shimmering bluish hue that contrasted sharply with his weapon. He appeared as if he was there to carry out an act of justice, intent on bringing down the two before him.
"Masters of the She Poison Clan, your path has reached its expected end. The immortal realm doesn't welcome you anymore!" he declared, his voice firm and commanding.
Chunwan held her hands in front of her, but rather than retreating, she faced the incoming danger. Su Jing could see the purplish tint creeping further across her fingers, but the swordmaster showed no sign of hesitation, continuing his advance toward the girl.
Chunwan was clearly terrified, her body trembling as she tried once again to summon her Qi, but it was slow to respond. Her fingers darkened further, and a coldness filled the air, causing Chunwan's face to momentarily brighten with a flicker of hope. But it seemed to be too late. The swordmaster was already upon her, his sword raised high.
She stumbled backwards, losing her balance and landing hard on her bottom. Su Jing's heart raced as she helplessly watched the swordmaster's blade fall, its sharp edge aimed directly at Chunwan's chest.
With a desperate instinct, Chunwan shifted just enough, the sword grazing her arm instead of her vital organs. A cry of pain escaped her lips as the blade cut through her flesh.
Her palm pressed desperately against the blade to push it away, and to her surprise, the swordmaster retreated quickly. He dropped the sword in disgust, his expression contorted with rage.
"Demoness!" His hand were trembling and he tried to heal it with Qi.
Su Jing then felt the body stir as the father, despite his worsening condition, fought to push himself forward. His movements were shaky, but with surprising speed, he reached for the dagger that Chunwan had dropped. His grip tightened around it, and with strength, he hurled the dagger toward the swordmaster.
The dagger struck the swordmaster's back, causing him to stagger and fall to the ground, a cry of pain escaping his lips. His face twisted in agony, but he managed to remove the dagger, only for the damage to be too great. Before Su Jing could process what had happened, the swordmaster was already dead.
But that wasn't the end as other white swordmasters arrived, and this time they were too many for either Chunwan or the father to do anything. Su Jing felt him swear silently, struggling to rise to his feet.
"Leiju, do it already! What are you waiting for?!"
The pressure on Chunwan was palpable. She was frozen in place, unable to move quickly enough to escape the barrage of attacks aimed at both her and her father. A sword was pointed directly at her chest, while another man closed in on her father, clearly intent on ending his life.
Su Jing, as much as she understood she was a third party, knew the poison master died in this extermination. She didn't really want to feel that through her skin!
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The sound of sword clashes filled the air, followed by a loud thud as several combatants were knocked to the ground. Su Jing could barely keep track of the movements as a figure appeared, moving with terrifying precision. In the blink of an eye, the new arrival took control of the situation.
One of the swordmasters attacking the father was cut down by a swift strike, while the other, aiming for Chunwan, was intercepted just in time. The new person's sword sliced through the attacker's body effortlessly, and they met the stunned white swordsman's gaze.
"Going against the Immortal Convention orders, whoever you are, are you seeking death?!" the swordsman spat, but before he could react, the mysterious figure unleashed another blow, ending his life instantly.
Chunwan, now covered in the blood of those who had fallen, shrank back. The new man turned to her, their eyes locking for a brief moment.
Unlike the others, he wore black clothes, blending perfectly with the dark atmosphere. Su Jing stood for a moment and gazed at the sword, which was now clean and free from the blood, making it easy to see how it was double-edged. Green silk was wrapped around the handle, and the guard was of clear jade, but without any tassels.
Su Jing had seen this sword before.
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of laboured breathing. Bodies littered the floor, blood pooling around them. The atmosphere was suffocating, the air thick with the scent of death.
The father, now propped up against the wall, glared at the newcomer, his breath shallow and rapid, struggling to maintain its balance.
"Who the hell are you? What deal do you have with the Poison Clan to go against the Great Immortals?"
The mysterious figure didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached into his storage bag and retrieved a long red blanket, which he gently wrapped around Chunwan. His movements were deliberate, calm, and strangely tender in contrast to the violence that had just unfolded. After securing the blanket, he gave a slight, reassuring smile and turned his attention to the Clan Head.
"Patriarch She, you don't need to worry. I'm not in cahoots with the people from the Yu Clan," the figure spoke, his tone soft yet filled with authority.
He tilted his head slightly, an unspoken gesture of both respect and quiet confidence. With deliberate care, he reached up and removed a black mask, revealing his face.
Chunwan gasped in surprise, her eyes widening as the face before her became clear. Patriarch She's eyes, too, widened in disbelief, mirroring Su Jing's shock. It was none other than Qingwu—though younger, more youthful than Su Jing remembered, it was unmistakably him. The sword was a confirmation of that.
Chunwan, overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment, couldn't hold back her tears. The sight of Qingwu in front of her, after everything that had happened, broke something inside her. She cried, her sobs shaking her small frame.
Qingwu, sensing her distress, gently patted her head, his voice low and soothing.
"Little Ju, you don't have to be afraid anymore. Everything's okay now."
Patriarch She, however, seemed to have the opposite reaction as he was even, more angered by Qingwu's presence - which Su Jing understood since after all, wasn't Qingwu coming from the victim clan which had its Clan head killed by Patriarch She?
"Has the second young master of the Black Tortoise Clan come to exact revenge on the Poison Clan? Is your clan's vendetta not satisfied yet?" he rasped, the accusation heavy despite his frailty. "You bastards or the Yu Clan, that's the same thing!"
Blood trickled from the corner of Patriarch She's mouth as his body trembled. Su Jing however had her mind occupied with the image of Qingwu, as she felt his appearance right here and right now put in chaos all the things she knew.
In the story, Qingwu did not know the young miss of the Poison Clan.
Even when Chunwan died, it was because she lied about her identity to him.
But now, seeing him here, it was clear he had known all along. The political web seemed much more complicated than what had been presented to Feng Zhihao. Su Jing couldn't make sense of it, and the questions swirled in her head.
The Poison Clan was also not even included in the main course of events, it was just a side story to reason why the high treasure Feng Zhihao had appeared.
Qingwu shook his head firmly, breaking through Su Jing's spiralling thoughts. "Patriarch She, our clans have both been wronged. The Yu Clan schemed against us, pitting us against one another. I came to retrieve you and the young miss before more harm could be done."
Patriarch She's body weakened beyond endurance, finally gave out. He collapsed to his knees, his breathing shallow and uneven. Chunwan moved quickly to support him, Qingwu staying at a slight distance from them.
"Of course, of course, it was the Yu Clan! How could they better get rid of me without recurring to the Immortal Convention power!"
Hearing him, Su Jing was surprised at this overtone of events. So, all of a sudden, the Yu Clan were the bad guys in this part?
She thought deeply about the Yu Clan. Their story came much later, progressively unfolding across numerous arcs. They were introduced prominently through their young miss, Yu Ruiting, another typical villainess whose ambition was to destroy Feng Zhihao.
Yu Ruiting was part of the Heavenly Clouds Sect and was terribly shaken when she learned of her brother's death—Yawen. Naturally, she confronted and blamed Feng Zhihao, believing her responsible, even though she had already proved her innocence. After a series of convoluted events, Yu Ruiting ended up with her legs paralyzed. She had stubbornly refused treatment from Feng Zhihao, the only one who knew the cure.
Because of this incident, the Yu Clan considered Feng Zhihao an enemy, accusing her of harming their young miss. This animosity eventually spiralled to a point where Feng Zhihao herself had an encounter with the Yu clan's young master. He was, to put it mildly, an arrogant fool. Things escalated, leading Feng Zhihao to sneak into the Yu Clan's treasure vault, where she stole their most precious artefact—a legendary sword with an awakened spirit thousands of years old.
The sword, of course, had never recognized any member of the Yu Clan as its master, deeming them unworthy. Yet, the moment it saw Feng Zhihao, the sword immediately bonded with her, making her its new master.
Naturally, this led to the Yu Clan's decline in power and prestige. Their inability to recover from such a loss left them weakened, and overshadowed by Feng Zhihao's growing influence.
But all of that was supposed to happen much later in the plot, long after Feng Zhihao infiltrated the Heavenly Clouds Sect as a disciple.
Su Jing's thoughts snapped back to the present as she heard Patriarch She coughing violently, splattering more blood on his clothes.
Qingwu approached Chunwan and he put his hand on her shoulder, kneeling too as he tried to touch Patriarch She's hand to check on his health. However, Patriarch She immediately smacked his hand aside, giving him a hateful look.
"Don't touch me, you wretched snake. I'd sooner trust the Yu Clan's lies than take help from your filthy hands." His voice was raspy, yet the venom in his words struck like a blade. "You're clearly just like your father!"
Patriarch She's voice dripped with bitterness, the hatred in his tone almost palpable. It was as though the weight of his anger kept him alive for just a moment longer.
"Father..." Chunwan murmured, her voice trembling. She looked at him with worry but also something else—shame. Her eyes darted downward, avoiding his gaze entirely.
Su Jing couldn't quite make out how Qingwu responded, but there was silence. Her vision began to blur, the scene before her becoming indistinct as Patriarch She's fading voice grew muffled. His figure dimmed, disappearing along with Chunwan in her haze. Amid the blur, Qingwu's face moved closer, but then, it shifted, ageing rapidly into an older version of himself. Her head pounded with sharp pain, and with a groan, Su Jing felt a piercing light force her eyes open.
"Cultivator Su, can you hear me? Are you alright?"
The voice snapped her back into focus, breaking through her disoriented haze. Her head throbbed mercilessly, each ache in her body making itself known—the stinging cuts from the branches, the bruises blooming across her arms, and the deep ache in her back from the fall.
"Ugh..." she groaned, her voice hoarse.
Another shadow moved closer, blocking the harsh sunlight. A warm hand rested lightly on her forehead, and suddenly, a soothing warmth began to spread through her body. Su Jing immediately recognized the sensation—someone was channelling Qi into her. The restorative energy coursed through her veins, dulling the pain and clearing her mind.
"This should be enough. As a mortal, it is surprising she took so well this fall. Even Lady Chunwan is more wounded."
Yawen's voice was heard and Su Jing saw him above her head, upside down. Qingwu nodded towards Yawen and went elsewhere, leaving Su Jing only with Yawen.
"Can you stand?" Yawen asked, concern evident in his voice.
Su Jing pressed a hand against her temple, attempting to ease the pounding headache that refused to lessen. She felt Yawen's firm grip on her shoulders as he helped her sit upright. With a grunt of effort, she managed to push herself into a seated position.
"How much time was I unconscious?"
"Not long," Yawen replied. "A few minutes at most. We've just landed."
Su Jing blinked, her mind still catching up with her surroundings. She glanced around and felt a chill run down her spine as her eyes trailed upward. Towering trees stretched endlessly into the sky, their tops so distant they seemed to blur into the sunlight.
Su Jing's gaze swept the area. "What about Cultivator Wan and Mei? Where are they?"
They all fell from such a big height Su Jing too is surprised how she is right now able to move.
Yawen gestured toward Chunwan, who lay motionless a short distance away. Her face was pale, and her breathing was shallow. Beside her knelt Qingwu, but Mingmei, however, was nowhere in sight.
"Cultivator Wan still needs recovery pills, and Cultivator Mei went to wash herself in the nearby river."
Su Jing stared at Yawen for a moment, but soon, she couldn't help but bite her inner cheek, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
That's right—she had vomited.
She glanced down at her clothes, relieved to see they weren't too dirty, though the sleeves and edges were slightly torn, having gotten caught on the branches.
Unconsciously, she touched her chest, her fingers brushing against the spot where the dagger had pierced her earlier. Patriarch She had been stubborn—despite his severe injuries, he had still been able to move and kill.
The sticky feeling seemed to remain embedded in her skin still, especially that sensation of coldness.
Su Jing was aware as a clan, Chunwan and her father supposedly had some unknown arts only the two of them knew to master. Was this cold blood of them somehow related to poison?
After all, sending Chunwan like that meant she knew how to protect herself without weapons, and by poison. Unfortunately, there weren't that many details in the story so Su Jing wasn't sure how their powers worked, only how their heirloom supposedly gave the wearer the ability to resist any kind of poison. Chunwan's piece was special too as it could hold poison without others noticing it.
Perhaps now, with Chunwan unconscious, was the perfect opportunity to examine her more closely. This thought hit Su Jing suddenly, and without thinking, she got to her feet, much to Yawen's surprise.
"Cultivator Su, wait! You shouldn't move so quickly. You need to rest for a few minutes," Yawen urged.
But Su Jing ignored him, moving toward Chunwan and Qingwu.
Qingwu looked at her, surprised. "Oh, already feeling better? Cultivator Su, you don't need to worry about Chunwan. This isn't her first time falling while flying."
"It's actually my fault for the fall, so I want to check her condition myself," Su Jing said as she sat beside Chunwan, gazing down at her.
"I've already examined her," Yawen added, standing behind Su Jing, "She's simply in a deep sleep right now."
Chunwan's clothes were in disarray, but surprisingly, there were no visible wounds on her skin. Cultivators, after all, often had more resilient bodies, especially if they had trained in body arts.
Su Jing reached out and gently touched Chunwan's hands, her fingers pink and delicate. Her skin felt warm, the opposite of how it had been in Su Jing's memory.
This suggested that Chunwan hadn't yet used her poison abilities.
Her neck, too, was free from any bruises. In fact, Chunwan appeared almost ethereal—like a fallen fairy in a forest.
Resting gently at the base of her neck was a jade necklace. Su Jing's gaze lingered on it, and she immediately recognized the deep red hue—this was Chunwan's personal heirloom. Her heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she realized that this very piece of jewellery was likely holding the poison. The sun's rays did not reflect off it but rather seemed to be absorbed as if it contained something darker, something dangerous.
Su Jing felt an urge to touch it, but Qingwu's gaze was unwaveringly fixed on her. Though Yawen stood behind her, providing a reassuring presence, Su Jing couldn't shake the unease stirring within her. Qingwu was the heir to the Black Tortoise Clan, and as such, his rivalry with the Poison Clan was well-known. Yet, he had been the one to save Chunwan during the Yu Clan massacre. If what he said was true, both clans had been framed—one losing its most powerful member, the other wiped out entirely by the hands of the powerful Yu Clan - Yawens Clan.
Could it be that Chunwan and Qingwu were working together against Yawen? If that were the case, then Mingmei, so close to Qingwu, would likely be aligned with them too.
A cold shiver ran down Su Jing's spine. The beasts in the forest seemed less of a concern now. Yawen might be the main target, but in the grand scheme of things, she was just a collateral victim waiting to be caught in the crossfire.
Her wish to escape with Yawen seemed to be more difficult to do now.
Was this how Chunwan's story had unfolded in the original timeline? If Qingwu and Chunwan knew the truth, did that mean Chunwan had sacrificed herself for him? But why?
Su Jing's mind buzzed with questions. She wondered what role Yawen played in the Yu Clan's schemes, and why he was so sought after. Wouldn't that make the Yu Clan more dangerous and provoke another attack and possibly frame the Black Tortoise Clan too?
Unconsciously, Su Jing squeezed Chunwan's fingers gently in her palm. In response, she felt a subtle shift—Chunwan's fingers twitched slightly. Her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on the world around her.
"Brother..." Chunwan's voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. Her gaze drifted toward Qingwu, and her hand instinctively tightened around Su Jing's. Su Jing felt a pang of discomfort. It felt wrong for her to stay here, holding on to Chunwan. She tried to pull away, but Chunwan's grip was firm, not allowing her to break free.
"Wanwan, that was a pretty bad fall," Qingwu said softly, his voice gentle yet filled with concern. "Thankfully, you didn't hurt yourself too badly."
Chunwan's breath was shallow before she muttered angrily, "It was all Senior Sister Mei's fault! How could she cut directly into my path like that? I even lost my sword—I don't know where it went!" Her voice was tinged with frustration, but there was a hint of childish indignation in it too.
Qingwu, looking calm as ever, responded, "I will search for it. It shouldn't be too far. You should stay here and recover for a while. We'll continue on foot once you're ready. Our destination isn't far."
With that, he turned and walked off, his figure vanishing into the trees. The moment he was out of sight, Chunwan exhaled sharply, her body sagging in exhaustion. She closed her eyes again, the weight of the situation settling on her. The silence stretched between them, and Su Jing could feel the tension building.
After a few moments, Chunwan suddenly tightened her grip on Su Jing's hand once more, her fingers trembling slightly. Then, in a flash, she snapped her eyes open, her gaze locking onto Su Jing's. The sudden intensity made Su Jing's pulse quicken.
"You!" Chunwan's voice was sharp, but there was something else—confusion and a touch of disbelief. "Mortal, what do you think you're doing?!"
Her reaction was so sudden that she jerked upright too quickly, her other hand clutching her head as dizziness overtook her. She winced, clearly disoriented, and Su Jing, despite the surprise, remained calm.