After Infusing Love Poison to the Cold Sword Sovereign - Chapter 26.2

Those who did not understand hailed her as the savior of the world, revering her as “Immortal Luo.” The disciples of the Primordial Origin Sect took pride in her.

Only Jiang Yurong knew the truth: among all the disciples of the Primordial Origin Sect, there were two who could awaken the sect’s primordial spirit.

Luo Qingyi and her own daughter, Jiang Qingbei.

And as the sect’s grandmaster, she had been unable to resist the pull of emotion unwilling to sacrifice her own flesh and blood. It was only natural.

“But.”

Luo Qingyi remained seated, her expression unchanged, as cold as snow: “Back then, when my cultivation wasn’t sufficient to inherit the Yuanling legacy, why did you seek her out? And why did you say those morally coercive words to her?”

The woman’s voice was icy, tinged with a terrifying anger under the flickering candlelight.

“And after I regained my strength and mistakenly killed her before leaving. You clearly had an agreement with her, so why did you delay appearing? Why didn’t you send her away before I awoke?”

“You gave her hope, then broke your promise. The one you owe an apology to isn’t me, it’s her.”

The candle burned brightly, the cold air lingering. The grand hall was solemn, yet the statue at its center still radiated a jade-white glow.

No names were mentioned, but both knew tacitly who “she” referred to.

Jiang Yurong sighed heavily, silent for a long while before murmuring, “I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to her again. Qingyi, did you look at the thing I asked Qingbei to deliver to you?”

“I did,” Luo Qingyi replied. “She has lost all her cultivation now not only can she no longer practice like a cultivator, but she can’t even wield her former Gu techniques. That pot of insect eggs you gave me is useless to her now.”

“Those aren’t ordinary insect eggs. They are…”

Jiang Yurong’s voice was low, as if hesitating whether to continue, but she ultimately overcame her reluctance and said slowly, “They are the mother Gu that grew from her remains.”

“Remains?”

Luo Qingyi shot to her feet, disregarding the fact that she stood before her master’s statue. Her brows furrowed tightly, her face darkening with fury as she demanded sharply, “Didn’t you say when you found her, there were no remains left?”

“Forgive me, Qingyi. At the time if I had told you the truth, seeing her remains in that state would have driven you to madness again.”

Sect Leader Jiang lowered her head, full of remorse. “Though I don’t know what this mother Gu is, I’ve kept it sealed in the forbidden chamber all this time, never revealing it. But recently.”

Jiang Yurong glanced at Luo Qingyi’s expression before adding, “I heard you brought someone back to Luoxue Peak. The disciples say she’s your new Dao companion, but I thought you wouldn’t mistake her. It must be her. I figured this item should be returned to its rightful owner.”

“Yes.”

Luo Qingyi stood expressionlessly, first bowing slightly to the statue before turning and striding straight toward the door without so much as another glance at Sect Leader Jiang.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Jiang. From now on, don’t disturb her again.”

The snow on Luoxue Peak seemed to have lessened, likely because the place was livelier now.

Aside from Yue Qinglan, who taught Wu Ruo swordsmanship, Jiang Qingbei had also become a frequent visitor. After the preliminary rounds of the Sword Discussion Tournament, the young mistress had unsurprisingly taken first place and now had plenty of free time. She visited Luoxue Peak daily, offering unsolicited and often counterproductive advice on Wu Ruo’s sword practice.

Fortunately, she didn’t come empty-handed. Each day, she brought something immortal fruits one day, spiritual spring nectar the next with the enthusiasm of a grand reveler.

Yue Qinglan got tipsy after just a few sips, making him dull company. Wu Ruo, however, had brewed rice wine back in Miaojiang for fun and could hold her liquor. Every day after training, while Luo Qingyi was away at meetings on other peaks, she and Jiang Qingbei would crack open a jar of “Drunk in the Present” and secretly compete in drinking.

The moment the earthen brown jar was unsealed, Yue Qinglan made a swift exit. She knew her limits all too well aware that a single sip would leave her dizzy and promptly retreated to her quarters, leaving just the two of them behind.

The snowflakes drifting through the air were tiny, melting almost instantly upon landing. Only a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground. Jiang Qingbei pulled two velvet blankets from her spatial storage and laid them over the snow. Sitting on them, she felt no chill at all; instead, it was as soft and comfortable as being indoors.

When it came to drinking, Jiang Qingbei shed all pretense of being a young mistress. She tipped the jar straight to her lips, gulping down several mouthfuls before slamming it down with a flourish. “Drink up! I hic have plenty of silver to spare! This Ganli wine isn’t your ordinary brew it invigorates your meridians and makes cultivation twice as effective!”

“You really are loaded.” Wu Ruo didn’t hold back either, grabbing the other jar and chugging freely.

The Miao village had always been self-sufficient, occasionally bartering crops with the outside world, but they never acquired luxuries from wealthy families. She had never tasted wine from beyond the mountains, and now was her chance to indulge.

After drinking together for a while, Jiang Qingbei was the first to succumb. With a loud hiccup, she muttered, “I hate my mother so much. Next life, I swear I won’t be her daughter again,” before collapsing face-first into the snow, fast asleep.

Wu Ruo was also thoroughly tipsy, though she still clung to a shred of sobriety. She dragged Jiang Qingbei to the warm shed where the celestial deer usually rested fortunately, the two deer were absent, leaving a perfect spot for Jiang Qingbei to crash. Wu Ruo then staggered back and saw half a jar of wine still left. Not one to waste, she settled back down, ready to finish it off.

Just as she lifted the jar, a faint white figure appeared in the distance snow-white hair, delicate features, ethereal as an immortal. It was Luo Qingyi, returning from her outing.

“Ah Ruo, has Qingbei come by?”

“Yeah, hic.” Wu Ruo raised the jar, a sudden thought blooming in her mind she had never seen Luo Qingyi drunk before. Yue Qinglan would recite the Nine Chapters on Mathematical Procedures when intoxicated, while Jiang Qingbei would grumble about trivial matters. She couldn’t help but wonder: what would Luo Qingyi be like under the influence?

“Luo Qingyi, want to try some? Jiang Qingbei brought it, it’s really good.”

Luo Qingyi accepted the jar, her usually unflappable expression flickering with hesitation. She frowned slightly, staring at the enormous wine vessel Wu Ruo had thrust into her hands, lost in thought.

“Really, you won’t try it?” Wu Ruo pressed. “We’ve all had some it’s amazing. After drinking, your whole body feels this warm current, so cozy you won’t even feel the cold sitting in the snow.”

Luo Qingyi didn’t respond immediately, still deep in contemplation, her expression shifting subtly.

Just as Wu Ruo assumed she would refuse, Luo Qingyi finally spoke: “Alright.”

The woman took a seat where Jiang Qingbei had been sitting earlier. Instead of lifting the jar to drink directly, she swirled the wine gently, then retrieved two porcelain cups from her spatial storage, pouring the wine into the delicate vessels.

“Here.”

Wu Ruo accepted the cup but didn’t drink right away. Instead, she raised it and clinked it against Luo Qingyi’s. “Before drinking, we toast first then offer our best wishes! As for me, hmm, may the Immortal Sect no, may our Falling Snow Peak reach even greater heights!”

“Alright.” Luo Qingyi raised her cup, her dark eyes meeting the other’s gaze as she said earnestly, “May you find smooth sailing and have all your wishes fulfilled.”

The woman’s eyes were as dark as the dense fog of night, brimming with a tender gaze, yet within them shone bright, twinkling stars. She seemed to smile at Wu Ruo before closing her eyes, lifting the porcelain bowl, and draining it in one go.

“Wow, so decisive huh?”

Luo Qingyi narrowed her eyes, her expression seeming slightly off. The hand holding the porcelain bowl dropped unnaturally, and the bowl landed on the silk rug with a bit too much force, producing a clattering sound.

“Luo Qingyi? Hey! Qingyi, Daoist Sister? What’s wrong, are you sleepy?”

Seeing this, Wu Ruo’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, and an unbelievable thought began forming in her mind. She quickly stood up, waving her hand in front of the other’s face in an attempt to rouse her.

Perhaps hearing the noise, Luo Qingyi finally opened her eyes, and then.

Those ink-black eyes now gazed at her with an exceptionally innocent expression.

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