Ai Mingxia awoke to a faint flicker of wan sunlight in her eyes. Blinking, she turned her head and slowly sat up.

Ah. Right. She was at Ning Yue Peak in the body of another. Standing up, she shivered slightly in the cool breeze coming through her window. Carding through her short locks of hair, as she had yet to find a comb, Ai Mingxia rubbed at her eyes. It seemed to be around sunrise.

Her lips were dry, and the strange feeling in her stomach still persisted. A frown etched on her face, she folded the blankets up and piled them neatly on the back of the bed.

Blood-stained the blankets as well as her robes. Ah. She had forgotten about the cut on her arm. The blood on the blankets, if a bit unhygienic, wasn’t a concern: she’d lived like that for centuries. But the blood on her robes would draw attention. Sleeping in her outer robes hadn’t been a good idea, either: they were wrinkled and rumpled. She should’ve remembered to take them off. At least the cut on her arm seemed to have stopped bleeding a long while ago and wasn’t infected. She should wash it as well as her robes just in case, though.

She glanced at her wrist. The rot had spread marginally, but not as much as it had before she had begun meditation. Perhaps it spread less when she was ‘in stasis?

Taking off her overcoat, she gathered it in her hands. She felt a bit bare standing only in her middle clothes, but hopefully, Si Ma Zhilian wouldn’t be awake yet and nobody would see her bring her clothing to the river. She could probably dry it with the wind art: perhaps this was one aspect where fire would be worse. She’d attempted to do so before, but she had just burnt her clothing to ashes.

There was a strange sense of excitement within her to do such a mundane task as she opened the door and left her room. Si Ma Zhilian was nowhere to be found, and her door was shut tight. Shifting her weight, Ai Mingxia walked down the hallway and through the front door, remembering to lock it behind her. There were no other disciples milling around save for a few furtive passerbys that averted their gaze with meek blushes on their face once they saw the blood on the fabric in her hand. Thus, she was able to walk down the path and to the lissome river she hoped still resided in the outskirts of the more secluded bit of the forest in peace.

Treading lightly, she was finally greeted by the familiar sight of the shallow river, crystal clear and tinkling. Despite herself, she could feel her lips curve upwards. She gently sat down on a flat rock, legs crossed, and placed the clothing on her lap. She used to have water fights here with Qi Niao before…

With a sigh, she stuck her hands in the water, relishing the way the coolness enveloped her skin. In the water, her hands were grey and golden-streaked, calloused and cut. Cupping some water with her left hand, she sloppily poured it onto the cut on her forearm. The feeling stung, but it wasn’t anything she was unused to.

Satisfied, Ai Mingxia began to wash her clothing. It was incredibly tedious, and her hands were sore by the end of it, but she finally emerged with a sopping wet but clean uniform.

She stood up and hung the uniform on a relatively clean tree branch. This would be her first time actually using cultivation, ever. The parchment detailing the art of Spring Gale Breath had shown a few practice movements to summon small breezes. Focusing hard, she pulled on the qi within her, willing it to form.

A small flurry of wind rushed out of her hand and onto the uniform. Despite herself, she was so surprised she took a step back and almost fell straight into the river.

The uniform had already dried quite a bit: Ai Mingxia remembered that it was made of some special material that made it dry quicker. Still, it would take some time for it to dry from the cool breeze of Ning Yue Peak alone, and it was time that Ai Mingxia couldn’t spare.

Marvelling at the fact that she had finally cultivated for real, Ai Mingxia sent another rush of wind towards the uniform. The blue robes billowed in the air, fanning out. It was mesmerizing.

A few later, Ai Mingxia placed a hand to the uniform. It was now dry to the bone. Satisfied, she pulled it on and began the slow walk back.

As she steadily strode through the forest, something dark flashed by the corner of her eye, sunken with yin. Quickly as it came, the aura disappeared. Stiffening, Ai Mingxia instantly whipped around, feeling as though her nerves were rolling down a mountain.

Sinking into a fighting pose, she warily scanned the scene around her, but saw nothing. But she had not made it so far in her last life by being heedless of the world around her. There was something within these stalks of bamboo, and she intended to find out what it was.

Another flash. More yin, to her left. Increasingly on edge, Ai Mingxia took a wary step. She should’ve thought to bring weapons, but she hadn’t thought so shallow into the forests would be dangerous. It never had before. Maybe she was careless after all.

Yet another. Her right. This time, though, Ai Mingxia had noticed it faster. Moving as fleetly as she could in this body, she pounced. And yet, there was nothing in her grasp.

Suddenly, she could feel the same cold, dark presence behind her. If she had been in her own body, she doubted she would’ve even noticed the yin energy because of the unique sort of her own, but right now, it was as if she was drowning in it. How was there something so seeped with yin this close to the heart of Ning Yue Peak?

Heart pounding and already prepared to attack no matter how futile it would be, she turned around.

A shriveled face stared right at her.

And a hand came clawing for Ai Mingxia’s throat, fast as a blink.

Just as she was about to grab it and attack, a blade of air sliced the fierce corpse’s hand straight off. Ai Mingxia could feel the force of the blow from where she was standing just a footstep away; the precision was commendable. Just who…?

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The fierce corpse did not flinch, and quickly followed up with another furious, wild advance. Ai Mingxia stepped out of the way in time, suddenly aware of her own current weakness and mortality. She would’ve been able to dispose of one of these with a single breath before, but now weaponless and weakened, she’d have to think of a strategy.

Yet it seemed it wouldn’t be necessary. A few more gales of wind followed in rapid succession, so fast even Ai Mingxia had trouble tracking them. Before it could even make another move, the fierce corpse fell to pieces. The precision and speed of the blows were almost reminiscient of Qi Niao’s…

But why would Qi Niao be here? She had sealed herself into seclusion centuries ago, and even if she had against all odds decided to emerge, how coincidental would it be for her to be here?

Chiding herself, Ai Mingxia looked up and scanned the surroundings. So quickly that any normal disciple wouldn’t have noticed it, she spotted a tall figure with flowing dark hair garbed in black leap fleetly across the bamboo, each step light and seeming to launch them over metres. Tracking her with her eyes as she would a bird, Ai Mingxia followed them until they disappeared into the clouds.

Some sort of immortal rogue cultivator? Their technique really rivalled even that of Qi Niao and her predessors. Ai Mingxia probably could’ve eventually taken care of or tired out the fierce corpse with some close calls, but there was no comfirming it.

A new grasp on her weakness and mortality acquired, she made the rest of her way back undetered, a new conviction burning within her. She’d never been much of the ambitious sort, but power she would need. She always had. No matter how many she had to drown to keep herself afloat. It would never change, no matter who’s body she was in: she needed power to survive.

With a sigh, she walked back into the pink house. It hadn’t been long since she’d left, but it seemed Si Ma Zhilian was awake now. She sat at the table with her legs crossed gracefully, looking immaculate as she ate her congee. “Good morning,” she addressed affably.

Awkwardly, Ai Mingxia replied, “Hello.” Dipping her head into a nod, she began to walk past her again back to her room. Yet as she was just about to open the door, her stomach rumbled despite herself.

Ah. So that was the strange feeling from before. Hunger. She had forgotten Liu Xiuying hadn’t practiced inedia.

A light chuckle came out from the red-garbed girl’s mouth. “Would you like some congee? I have some to spare.”

Despite herself, Ai Mingxia nodded and sat down. “Thank you.” It wouldn’t do good to be weakened by hunger. Si Ma Zhilian said nothing as she ladled more congee into a bowl, eyes blue and drooping as they seemed to always be.

Why was she wearing a uniform, anyways? For minor sect disciples to wear the uniform when coming to study at Yue Ning Peak was nothing out of the ordinary, even expected, but for somebody of the main branch of the Si Ma Sect, a sect arguably just as if not more powerful than the Qi Sect? It was simply too strange.

Si Ma Zhilian pushed a bowl of congee towards Ai Mingxia, and continued slowly eating. Ai Mingxia frowned down at it. The congee was well made, but there was a strange sour smell to it. It couldn’t be poison, as now that she focused on it there was a faint scent of it from Si Ma Zhilian’s bowl as well, and Si Ma Zhilian had served from the same pot. The smell was almost like… corpse powder-dispelling congee?

She had completely forgotten about that aspect of corpse-interaction. In her own body, as a fox-spirit herself, she was immune to its effects. She was glad she hadn’t breathed any in earlier, or if not for this lucky coincidence, she could’ve fallen ill. Had Si Ma Zhilian been seeking out corpses to fight them, or had she happened upon a chance encounter with one as well?

Fierce corpse infestations had happened in the past as well. Perhaps some things didn’t change after all.

Ai Mingxia finished the congee quickly, even before Si Ma Zhilian did. As she was about to stand up, the brown-haired girl across from her’s face lit up, as if she had remembered something.

“Ah. Would you like some tea?” As if to prove it wasn’t poisoned, she poured some into her own teacup first before offering a second to Ai Mingxia. Ai Mingxia had never been much for tea, but she didn’t see why she should decline. For all she knew, perhaps Si Ma Zhilian’s tea provided a cultivational boon.

“Yes, thank you.” She accepted it and began to sip at it. She almost winced at the scalding heat of it, but what had she expected? The tea had a sweet, soothing taste, but unfortunately didn’t seem to help with her cultivation.

The other girl seemed to have a sort of trust in Liu Xiuying, seeing as she didn’t seem to have her guard up the same way Ai Mingxia had in her. Still, she doubted it would be that easy to kill her; the girl seemed to have her door locked at all times, and no doubt had arrays for that purpose as well.

Though she seemed to have a penchant for tea, she doubted the girl would allow her anywhere near it. Si Ma Zhilian seemed to pack up all her things and store them inside her room whenever she wasn’t there to watch them, and Ai Mingxia didn’t have much knowledge of poisons anyway.

A quiet sigh escaping her, Ai Mingxia finished the tea and stood back up. She pushed the chair back, and with a respectful nod, retreated to her room.

She meditated for a while to calm her thoughts and cultivate. After she finished, feeling refreshed, she decided that she would lay low for the week. The rot didn’t seem to spread so quickly that she needed to act immediately, and she needed to increase her strength and think of strategies.

The days passed by in a blur: even though she wasn’t able to cultivate in her past body, she had still listened in on lessons in the past and understood the concepts she was now learning easily, and though the physical lessons were taxing, it was nothing she wasn’t used to. When she wasn’t attending lessons, she was meditating, and when she wasn’t meditating, she was researching and strategizing.

Though many of her fellow disciples treated her with scorn or condescension, none really got in her way. The amber-eyed boy, who’s name she pinned down as Lei Yongrui, had attempted to bully her, but a few blank stares and steely glares were enough to get him to back off for the time being. He was a pain, but not a real problem for the time being.

The elders paid next to no attention to her, as she expected. She didn’t recognize any of them: the elders of her past had likely long since perished, as had most of the disciples of her generation. The ones she’d have expected to still be alive were either in seclusion or had other obligations. She supposed it was a good thing that there was nobody she knew.

As she sat on her bed in her middle layer after a long day of training, she idly summoned a small puff of wind. Her skill and technique had rapidly improved from how much she was pushing it, and though she still would’ve preferred fire, she now felt a bit more at ease with the wind. She had yet to get into any proper duels or scuffles, but she felt sure that she could hold her ground against any mediocre disciple if not only for her remaining skill from her last life.

Pulling the knives she had filched from one of Lei Yongrei’s friends, she mourned her lack of a spear. The knives were serving her well enough for now, but she’d feel much more at ease with a spear. Though she doubted anything would be able to replace the feeling of wielding Hongmei, much less the power, she’d like to obtain one soon. When she went to scout out the city below, she’d trade one of the blue spirit stones she had left for some money and buy a high-quality spear. Though it was qi wasted, she thought it an investment worth.

The rot on her wrist had spread enough that if she did not pull her sleeves down often enough, it could barely be seen. Yet, the growth of it was strangely slow compared to the first day. Still, it didn’t seem to be much of a problem just yet.

Lying down, she pulled the cover over herself. Though it was strange, she was steadily getting used to this new sort of existence.

Somehow, she felt at peace.