Chapter 36

Song Qingshi reviewed everyone’s progress, assessing their abilities and levels.

Yue Wuhuan had indeed chosen promising students, assigning disciplines based on individual strengths, and each had performed remarkably well. Qing Luan and Ming Hong, the top students, were exceptional. Even the seemingly lazy Rong Ye possessed unique talents, though his interests lay not in medicine or pharmacology but in mechanical engineering.

Yue Wuhuan smiled. "Qing Luan is clever and capable. During the Master’s seclusion, she handled many troublesome matters for me."

Song Qingshi understood his implicit meaning and motioned for Qing Luan to step forward. He closely examined her cultivation, discovering she had already achieved Foundation Establishment, possessing dual wood and water spiritual roots—a decent aptitude. Satisfied, he nodded, deciding to observe her further. If she proved suitable in all aspects, he would accept her as a regular disciple and assign her as Yue Wuhuan’s assistant.

Qing Luan prostrated herself, performing a deep kowtow.

Remembering the Pleasure Seal on her, Song Qingshi turned to Yue Wuhuan. "Spirit Marrow is merely a medium. Once a spell mark is applied, similar formations can be undone, correct? Why haven’t you removed this thing?"

Yue Wuhuan explained, "They belong to the Master. The decision to remove the Pleasure Seal should be the Master’s."

Song Qingshi chuckled. "What’s there to decide about this worthless thing? Fetch the Divine Sense Bead; I’ll remove it for her."

Qing Luan cautiously glanced up at Yue Wuhuan, not daring to speak.

Yue Wuhuan said gently, "She probably doesn’t have it with her. There’s no rush—the Master has just emerged from seclusion. Let’s handle this tomorrow."

Song Qingshi readily agreed and pulled Yue Wuhuan along to see his lab and his white mice. As they walked, he asked, "You’ve accomplished so much in ten years. It must have been difficult, right?"

Yue Wuhuan replied dismissively, "It was no trouble at all. The Master need not concern himself."

Song Qingshi pressed, "I recall that refining Blood Blossom Powder requires Blood Silkworm Grass, a material long extinct. How did you acquire it?"

Yue Wuhuan answered casually, "By sheer luck."

Song Qingshi, unsuspecting, sighed. "You’re truly fortunate. I searched for years and never found any."

Yue Wuhuan smiled. "Ever since meeting the Master, my luck has always been good."

Hearing this, Qing Luan was overwhelmed with emotion, her eyes reddening as she struggled to hold back her words.

Yue Wuhuan sensed her unease and cast a warning glance back at her.

Qing Luan quickly wiped away her tears, swallowing all she wished to say.

Though she could never forget Song Qingshi’s life-saving grace, the one who held paramount importance in her heart remained Yue Wuhuan.

She still remembered their first encounter when she was six...

In the depths of autumn, amidst golden phoenix trees, a young man in green robes sat, playing the "Phoenix Seeks Its Mate" on a white jade flute.

The lonely melody drifted through the crimson and gold autumn air, as if desperately searching for something.

The young man’s phoenix eyes were gentle, eclipsing all beauty in the world. As the wind blew, golden phoenix leaves and fiery maple leaves seemed to transform into the hem of his robes. He resembled the most noble phoenix in the heavens, resplendent and unparalleled, his enchanting music drawing birds to descend and bow before him, hoping to earn his favor.

Larks, orioles, cuckoos, kingfishers...

More and more birds quietly settled on the trees around him, perching beside him, listening to the most captivating music in the world.

Qing Luan couldn’t resist drawing closer, settling among the birds beside him, until she was lost in the moment.

Legend had it that the qingluan was the phoenix’s attendant bird, destined to follow and submit to its brilliance...

This feeling was indescribable, as if etched into her very bones, making her understand that this was the one she was meant to serve.

She yearned for him to find the happiness missing from his song.

She yearned for him to soar freely and joyfully through the skies forever.

...

Later, having broken free from her bonds, Qing Luan arrived at Medicine King Valley like a joyful bird, bringing children with her. She had so much to tell Yue Wuhuan—about the questions that man had asked her, about his expression when he received the box.

But the moment she saw Yue Wuhuan again, she realized he had changed.

Yue Wuhuan was injured, exhausted, barely suppressing the madness and agitation in his eyes. He recognized her but showed no interest, even a faint hint of aversion. He forced himself to endure, taking them in only because it was the Medicine King Immortal’s order.

The warmth had left his eyes, replaced by something cold. Though he patiently arranged everything for the children, Qing Luan could sense the distance in his every command, his every arrangement keeping them at arm's length before he disappeared for days.

Qing Luan sensitively realized that something bad might have happened in Medicine King Valley.

She immediately persuaded most of the children who still harbored delusions of immortality to return to the mortal world. For the few who had nowhere else to go, she voluntarily took on the responsibility of their care and education.

For a long time afterward, the Medicine King Immortal remained in seclusion, and Yue Wuhuan became extremely busy, rarely seen as he buried himself in the study and laboratory. Qing Luan took the initiative to serve as a medicine attendant, tending the grounds near the valley’s entrance by day and teaching the children medicinal texts by night.

When she next saw Yue Wuhuan, his face had been disfigured—blotched and hideously ugly.

Qing Luan almost screamed in horror.

But Yue Wuhuan merely smiled at her before leaving the valley with that disfigured face.

Everyone whispered, believing he would surely lose favor once the Master emerged from seclusion, now that his beauty was gone.

Qing Luan thought of the gentle Immortal Lord and shook her head, a suspicion quietly forming in her mind.

Yue Wuhuan began returning with injuries—large and small, all manner of cuts and stab wounds. He forbade anyone from touching his wounds, treating them alone in the medicine room each time. During his recovery, he devoured books and trained relentlessly, only to leave Medicine King Valley again once healed, his whereabouts unknown.

He maintained the valley’s surface calm, ensuring no one sensed the hidden crisis.

Qing Luan knew she had to act...

For Yue Wuhuan, for Song Qingshi, for Medicine King Valley, and for the children under her care.

Even if her wings were frail, she would shield them from the storm.

One day, when Yue Wuhuan returned injured again, Qing Luan, resolute, defied the prohibition and snuck into the medicine room. What she saw was unimaginable.

Yue Wuhuan was stitching a wound in his abdomen. To stay conscious, he refused anesthesia, clenching a wooden gag between his teeth as he drove the needle through his own flesh, layer by layer. The agony left him drenched in cold sweat, yet he managed only a few low, muffled groans.

Detecting her presence, Yue Wuhuan swiftly closed his robe and rasped, "Who’s there?"

Qing Luan sorrowfully closed her eyes, then slowly stepped out of the shadows.

Yue Wuhuan drew his sword, eyeing her warily.

Qing Luan immediately knelt and retrieved the Divine Sense Bead she had prepared, offering it with both hands.

Recognizing the familiar red bead, Yue Wuhuan instantly understood her intent, his expression unreadable.

"I know something has happened to the Master, but I dared not pry. I also know Brother Wu Huan has reservations and cannot force trust. But Medicine King Valley is Qing Luan’s only refuge, the only shelter for these poor children," she said softly, yet with unwavering resolve. "So, please take my life. Once the Divine Sense is imprinted on this bead, I will never defy your will or harm my master. Please use me, for anything..."

"Anything?" Yue Wuhuan laughed at her naive words. "Even if I’m no longer the person you remember? Even if your clean hands must be stained with blood? Even if it costs your life? Even if it condemns you to eternal damnation?"

Qing Luan lifted her head. "Yes!"

The qingluan would always willingly bow at the phoenix’s feet, following its shadow across the heavens for life.

Though her power was limited, she was willing to give it her all.

Yue Wuhuan observed her carefully for a long time, pondered for a long time, and finally took the Divine Sense Bead, accepting her oath of fealty.

From that day on, Qing Luan became Yue Wuhuan’s most loyal subordinate. She handled many of the public and clandestine matters within Medicine King Valley, bearing witness to Yue Wuhuan at his most ruthless. Countless times, she cleaned up the horrifying remnants in the interrogation room, scrubbing bloodstains from the floors—from initially being so terrified she nearly vomited to eventually remaining stoic. She helped Yue Wuhuan frantically transform Medicine King Valley into a gigantic spiderweb, controlling everything and trapping all within its threads. She worked hard to maintain Yue Wuhuan’s flawless public persona, pretending nothing was amiss, ensuring the children never discovered the truth, and making certain the Master would notice nothing wrong upon waking.

Yet, all of this was far from enough…

Yue Wuhuan pushed himself to the limit every day, his body covered in wounds, scarcely permitting himself sleep. He obsessively studied killing techniques, researched lethal toxins and formations, and internalized all knowledge until it became second nature, hacking through brambles, calculating every move, every person’s heart.

The most precious medicines grew in the most dangerous places, every step perilous, demanding tremendous sacrifice to obtain.

Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he failed—but when he failed, he simply started again.

No matter how bitter or difficult, he never stopped moving forward.

Qing Luan only handled the internal affairs of Medicine King Valley, often unaware of where he went or what he did.

The only thing she knew was that five years ago, Yue Wuhuan had been carried back unconscious by the leader of Night Rain Pavilion himself, his bones shattered in sixty places, not a single part of his body intact, sustained only by his Wood Spiritual Root and elixirs—yet his hand still clutched something tightly, refusing to let go.

Qing Luan could no longer remain silent. She asked Immortal Lord Ye Lin for an explanation.

Upon hearing this, Immortal Lord Ye Lin couldn’t help but curse, “A Foundation Establishment Cultivator daring to step onto the Life-and-Death Arena? A madman with no care for his life.”

The Life-and-Death Arena was the shadowy gambling pit of the immortal realm, where the wagers were rare treasures—and the lives of cultivators.

The immortal realm had no shortage of wealthy cultivators who, grown weary of wagering on cockfights and dogfights, eventually turned to gambling on people.

On the Life-and-Death Arena, the combat only ended in death. The surviving cultivator could claim any treasure from the wager.

Though Yue Wuhuan had only a breath left in him, the fact that he lived meant he was the victor.

He had obtained the long-extinct Blood Silkworm Grass.

Immortal Lord Ye Lin was a man of his word. He handed both the Blood Silkworm Grass and the man to Qing Luan, recounting the brutality of the arena before slamming the table in anger. “Hah! Though that Nascent Soul Cultivator Xuan Yu was a worthless figure artificially elevated by elixirs, a Nascent Soul Cultivator still has spiritual pressure over a Foundation Establishment Cultivator—and he cultivated the Indestructible Golden Body! Ordinary cultivators couldn’t even breach his techniques, let alone attack him. They just wanted to watch Young Master Wu Huan be tortured to death for their amusement. How could someone as perceptive as Yue Wuhuan not see through their intentions? Yet he still walked to his doom for the Blood Silkworm Grass. Out of respect for our Jade-Complexion Ointment partnership, I even prepared a coffin for him! Just when is Song Qingshi going to come out of seclusion? To let a treasure purchased for two hundred thousand spirit stones do something like this?!”

Qing Luan said solemnly, “Please refrain from such words, Immortal Lord.”

In the immortal realm, cultivators entering seclusion was common—some to consolidate breakthroughs, others to study when stuck at a bottleneck. Song Qingshi was a prodigy, wholly devoted to cultivation. A century ago, he had already approached the peak of Nascent Soul, with a real chance of breaking through to the next realm. Now that his opportunity was near, his seclusion to consolidate his cultivation raised no suspicions.

Ye Lin sighed in frustration. “I’ve never seen a Life-and-Death Arena so brutal. His limbs were shattered, blood everywhere, collapsed on the ground unable to move. I was ready to have the coffin brought out. But at the last moment, when Nascent Soul Cultivator Xuan Yu let his guard down in triumph, Yue Wuhuan shot a poisoned needle from a hidden mechanism in his mouth straight into the weak point at his opponent’s waist.”

Though the Indestructible Golden Body was impervious to blades, it had one vulnerable spot—a flaw that couldn’t be trained away, only concealed.

Ye Lin, reflecting on the outcome, pieced together that Yue Wuhuan must have long discerned Nascent Soul Cultivator Xuan Yu’s intentions, knowing he would be tortured to death. He had feigned weakness, probing until he found the flaw, deliberately waiting until he was too injured to move and his opponent had relaxed before making his final strike.

There had been only one chance, fleeting as a breath.

Yue Wuhuan had acted without hesitation—and the one who died was Nascent Soul Cultivator Xuan Yu.

The arena erupted in uproar, no one believing their eyes. Ye Lin sold the coffin cheaply to Nascent Soul Cultivator Xuan Yu’s disciples, retrieved the Blood Silkworm Grass for Yue Wuhuan, stabilized his life with medicine, and sent him back to Medicine King Valley on a stretcher, explaining everything.

Before leaving, he repeatedly instructed Qing Luan, “Enough, stop crying. If he dies, wait until Medicine King Immortal comes out of seclusion to settle Night Rain Pavilion’s medical expenses and escort fees. Just make sure the Jade-Complexion Ointment shipments aren’t affected.”

Quelling the tumult in her heart, Qing Luan agreed to everything.

Her usual studies focused on external injuries, and she had occasionally treated a few hard-to-reach wounds on Yue Wuhuan’s back. This time, Yue Wuhuan had anticipated severe injuries before leaving and had prepared treatment plans and medicines in advance. Following his instructions and her own knowledge, Qing Luan attended to all his injuries—except for the tightly clenched hand she couldn’t pry open, catching only a glimpse of what seemed to be a white pebble inside.

Yue Wuhuan remained unconscious for three days and three nights.

When he awoke, he gently sniffed the stone in his hand, struggled out of bed, shrugged off Qing Luan’s assistance, and crawled step by step toward Poria Palace before collapsing again. The lustful stares on the Life-and-Death Arena, Nascent Soul Cultivator Xuan Yu’s vulgar words—they had revolted him to his core. Even Qing Luan’s necessary touches during treatment had made him excruciatingly uncomfortable.

The air was foul, choking. His mind was in turmoil. Only at that person’s side could he breathe easy again.

Qing Luan knelt and said firmly, “Brother Wu Huan, I know something has happened to the Master. Please let me help you see him.”

Yue Wuhuan slowly turned his head, his phoenix eyes half-lidded as he fixed her with a dangerous look.

Qing Luan implored with effort, “You can’t keep this secret alone. If you hadn’t survived the Life-and-Death Arena, what would have happened to the Master?”

Yue Wuhuan fell silent.

Qing Luan pressed on, “If you die, who else can save the Master?”

“There is someone. Don’t worry,” Yue Wuhuan’s voice was raw with exhaustion. “I set up a death-triggered formation with my life token. If I die, it will send a message, and he can easily find the Master’s location… But I don’t want to hand the Master over to that person. So, no matter the hardship, I can’t die.”

The Master’s injuries were too severe, requiring countless prescriptions, each tested one by one. Not every ingredient could be bought, and there was no time to search slowly. With no one to rely on, Yue Wuhuan was forced to seize, fight, and scheme for them himself. He knew he was gambling with his life—but he had no choice.

If he lost, the death-triggered formation would inform An Long of Song Qingshi’s condition—the last lifeline.

Song Qingshi had lost all ability to resist, his remaining spiritual power entirely devoted to sealing the toxic flames within him. Anyone could do anything to him. Yue Wuhuan could imagine all too well what that wolfish An Long would do—the very idea sickened him with anguish.

On the Life-and-Death Arena, blood loss had clouded his mind. Only the thought of the death-triggered formation and the stone in his hand had kept him clutching at life. He couldn’t die. Death meant losing everything. There were Gu insects capable of erasing memories, and An Long would spare no effort to wipe him from Song Qingshi’s mind.

He even thought his past at Golden Phoenix Manor hadn’t been the most painful experience of his life.

Being forgotten by Song Qingshi was…

However hellish, he would crawl back. No one was allowed to take his Master away.

……

Yue Wuhuan finally accepted Qing Luan’s proposal—not out of absolute trust, but because the Life-and-Death Arena had made him realize he could still fall into critical condition. If he lay unconscious for years without dying, Song Qingshi would perish without care.

Qing Luan finally helped him into the hidden chamber, where they saw Song Qingshi sleeping in milky medicinal liquid and the crude furnishings beside the pool.

Qing Luan asked in disbelief, “Brother Wu Huan… have you been sleeping here all along?”

Dark, damp, and cold underground—normal people would ache from prolonged exposure, let alone an injured man…

“He likes me by his side. Otherwise, he gets lonely,” Yue Wuhuan leaned over the pool, his tense body finally relaxing, the light in his eyes softening. His entire soul was tethered to the man in the pool, leaving nothing for himself. He lifted Song Qingshi’s hand, pressing a tender kiss to the damp skin, his voice overflowing with tenderness. “Qing Shi, I got the Blood Silkworm Grass. We can try the new prescription now.”

“Qing Shi, I’m still alive. I didn’t relapse…”

“Qing Shi, it’s spring now. Should I plant some flowers in your courtyard?”

“Qing Shi, they say Green Jade Tower has delicious peach blossom cakes. Shall we go try them later?”

“Qing Shi…”

He spoke endlessly to someone who couldn’t hear.

He held that unfeeling hand as if it were the entire world.

Qing Luan quietly retreated from the chamber—there was no room for outsiders here.

In her memory, the final brushstroke of color was added to the *Phoenix Seeks Its Mate* painted on the phoenix tree.

…

Qing Luan recalled the ordeal of these past ten years, like a nightmare.

Now that Song Qingshi was awake, her nightmare had also ended. The heavy weight lifted from her shoulders, and her heart felt lighter.

She understood Yue Wuhuan’s meaning: all the suffering was in the past, and there was no need to make the Master feel guilty or sorrowful. They should look forward, for surely everyone's days would grow better from now on.

As for the feelings between the Master and Brother Wu Huan...

Qing Luan couldn't help smiling. She would make several trips to pray to the Moon Goddess for a happy ending.

Under the hazy moonlight, a young man in red sat in her courtyard, earnestly practicing a tune—also *The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate*. Unfortunately, the young man had no musical talent, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't play it well. The notes came out choppy and uneven, with some notes completely missing.

The young man blushed with embarrassment and stole a glance at her.

Qing Luan couldn't help smiling and sat beside him, quietly listening.

She wished for everyone's happiness.