After Infusing Love Poison to the Cold Sword Sovereign - Chapter 7

“Mmm…” Wu Ruo nodded obediently in response.

There was nothing else left to do. A-Xiang’s trail had already vanished, the porcelain bottle containing the Voice Transmission Gu had shattered, and the other tiny insect belonging to the other party had crawled away to who-knows-where likely buried and lost in the scorched, barren earth.

Was it time to go back now?

Wu Ruo watched as the swordswoman glared at Jiang Qingbei once more, until the latter finally stuck out her tongue and flew away in a huff on her sword.

The desolate Black Mountain was left with only her, the swordswoman, and her own heavy, lonely thoughts.

“My condolences,” the swordswoman said softly, gently patting her head as if she knew exactly what Wu Ruo was thinking.

She nodded numbly, watching as the woman summoned her massive flying sword once more, standing ready at her feet.

Mechanically, Wu Ruo stepped onto the sword and let herself be carried through the air. But as they rose just a little higher, silent tears began to fall from her eyes.

Half of a tattered, colorful embroidered coat hung quietly from a tree, its bark half-blackened, the color of something scorched by fire.

That was the outer garment A-Xiang had been wearing when she left. It had been her dearest friend’s favorite dress.

The swordswoman didn’t take her all the way back to the tribe. Instead, she dropped her off at the place where they had first met, casting a protective talisman over her to shield her from any demonic cultivators who might attack on her way home.

Perhaps unwilling to involve herself in the karma of Miaojiang, the woman said nothing more not even revealing her identity and simply left Wu Ruo in the mountains with silent finality.

She was going to part ways with the celestial sister now.

The faint, ethereal fragrance of the swordswoman still lingered at the tip of her nose, like snow gathered from drifting clouds and flowing mist. Wu Ruo stood there dumbly, wanting to say something but not knowing where to begin.

They were not the same kind of people.

She had always been acutely sensitive to others’ emotions. When she had taken out her Voice Transmission Gu earlier, she could sense a faint trace of displeasure from the swordswoman though unspoken, Wu Ruo pretended not to notice.

Even someone as radiant and celestial as her still held prejudices against the Gu arts of Miaojiang.

But the woman had shown noble restraint and impeccable character, protecting her all the way. And now, it was time to part.

She was just a passerby the swordswoman had casually saved, a fleeting encounter, likely the only intersection their lives would ever have.

“Go back now. There are no traces of demonic cultivators here anymore. It’s safe.”

“Alright! thank you.”

The swordswoman brushed her long hair aside and stepped into the void, each footfall leaving a faint, illusory imprint. Her tall hair ribbon fluttered in the wind, dancing like a snow butterfly in the night sky, breathtakingly beautiful.

Just as the woman’s figure was about to disappear completely, Wu Ruo suddenly filled with an inexplicable surge of courage turned around and shouted in the direction of her departure, “Sister, can I ask you?”

But the figure was already gone.

The night sky remained dazzling, the dark blue expanse stretching like an endless dome. The spiritual energy between heaven and earth had yet to disperse, the stars still glittered, and the moonlight was veiled by drifting clouds, casting a serene glow.

In that moment, Wu Ruo suddenly realized, the swordswoman’s retreating figure had been as radiant as the moon hanging in the ninth heaven, brilliant and flowing with light.

For the first time, she felt that the moon she saw every night was truly this beautiful.

By the time she stepped back into the Miaojiang village, the sky had turned completely dark.

The Witch Envoy had already returned, her expression flustered and uneasy. Seeing Wu Ruo return safely, she was visibly anxious, pulling her aside to ask all sorts of questions.

“Nothing happened,” Wu Ruo replied dismissively. “I searched around but couldn’t find anything. I fell and it hurt, so I came back.”

She didn’t want to alienate any of her tribespeople, yet she couldn’t help but feel a new wariness toward the Witch Envoy.

She knew the other woman’s decision to abandon two tribespeople had been a desperate one. Behind the scenes, the Witch Envoy was likely under just as much pressure and guilt as she was, if not more. But still, Wu Ruo couldn’t stop her mind from wandering.

What if, she had truly invited a wolf into their home?

After much deliberation, she chose to conceal the fact that she had encountered the swordswoman, simply showing the Witch Envoy the bruise on her leg before expressionlessly applying medicine.

The Witch Envoy didn’t press further, merely handing her some medicinal oil, patting her head, and sighing.

Wu Ruo returned to her small bed, her thoughts swirling, making sleep impossible.

It felt like a dream yet one filled with despair and aching pain.

Too much had happened in a single day, far too heavy a burden for a naive young girl. The loss of a friend, the stirrings of long-dormant emotions, the bleak future of her tribe, any one of these could have crushed her in an instant. Yet, in that same instant, she had also grown.

Lying on her back, she stared at the empty bed beside her. A tiny insect crawled from her sleeve to her wrist before retreating back into its transparent vial.

“Ruo Ruo.”

It was as if she could still hear her friend calling her name. But everything had vanished in the wake of catastrophe. Her blood felt as though it had been submerged in snow, her marrow shattered and buried in the icy mountain streams.

BOOM!

Outside the window, a deafening thunderclap roared. Fierce lightning streaked across the clouds, casting blinding white light. The bolts danced like frenzied serpents, weaving through the sky like celestial arcs.

It seemed, a Great Ascension cultivator had broken through.

This celestial phenomenon originated from the dome of the Zhiyuan Immortal Sect, just a cliff away from the Miaojiang tribe.

Wu Ruo jolted upright at the tremendous noise. The thunder was deafening, the rain relentless.

What magnificent lightning as if an immortal were undergoing a tribulation. But it had nothing to do with her.

Raindrops pattered through the slightly ajar window. Holding an umbrella, she crossed the covered walkway and sat alone on the altar, gazing at the basin before her. Gently, she let a drop of blood fall into it.

Unbidden, her mind returned to the woman she had met that day.

She didn’t know who she was, didn’t know her identity, only that she was a senior disciple from a renowned orthodox sect, likely one of the elite talents of the cultivation world.

And as for herself in the near future, she would be seen as a Miaojiang poison mistress aligned with the demonic cultivators, branded as a wicked heretic by the righteous sects.

If they met again, if by then the Miaojiang had already been consumed by demonic cultivators, would that woman kill her? Would she be cut down like the demonic cultivator today, her arms severed, her body reduced to chunks of flesh?

Her movements slowed. The crimson blood on her fingertip dripped into the basin, where clusters of tiny larvae quickly devoured it.

One drop, two drops.

No. No, she wouldn’t. That woman had known she practiced gu poison arts, yet she hadn’t abandoned her. Instead, she had saved her and brought her back to the tribe.

Perhaps, there was a trace of pity in the other’s heart for her after all.

Then, could she also secretly confess her occasional moments of longing amidst the howling wind and rain?

Her soft fingertips brushed against the empty shell of a butterfly’s chrysalis, the legs of a centipede, and the stinger of a scorpion. One by one, sacred objects were anointed with crimson blood at their tips before being sealed in opaque porcelain vessels, where they gradually devoured one another.

If only the other could like her.

If only…

The heavy rain poured down onto the empty altar, the small canopy at its center barely shielding against the fierce, rushing wind. Bean-sized raindrops dripped from the eaves, splashing at Wu Ruo’s feet and soaking the hem of her skirt, which reached past her knees.

She stood in the rain, listening all night long.

And in that opaque vessel, all the sacred objects had been consumed, leaving only a small, flesh-pink bead quietly nestled in a corner.

That morning in Miaojiang, the sky was ablaze with red clouds, a sign that a long-lost, peerless gu technique had returned to the world.

Meanwhile, just beyond the cliffs, in the Zhiyuan Immortal Sect, a celestial being undergoing tribulation caused spiritual energy to surge and spread wildly. Overnight, it awakened eighteen rare treasures throughout the sect.

Even the towering cliffs burst into countless blossoms.

Wu Ruo carefully placed the vessel aside. She had no intention of letting anyone know her feelings. It was only when she went with friends to gaze at the distant cliffs that she learned the source of the previous day’s celestial phenomenon.

The master of Zhiyuan Immortal Sect’s Luoxue Peak had successfully inherited the Hundred Lives Legacy, becoming the sole successor of the Path of Heartlessness in centuries.

Spiritual energy overflowed, and all things flourished. The cultivation world brimmed with vitality.

Even Wu Ruo, a mere gu practitioner, had, by chance, glimpsed the workings of fate. Not only had her cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds, but she had also refined a long-lost, peerless love gu.

She told no one. Clutching her little bottle, she sat by the cliffs for a long time. She even secretly descended the mountain once, waiting all day at the place where she had met that swordswoman, only to return empty-handed.

This was for the best. She couldn’t bear to use the gu on the other. Let it remain sealed in her cabinet, a memento of the only love she would ever know in this lifetime.

Perhaps due to the emergence of the Heartless Path’s grandmaster, demonic cultivators dared not act recklessly for a long time. The villages of Miaojiang remained as peaceful as ever.

Everything was as it had been, except Wu Ruo had graduated. Recognized by the Witch Envoy, she was appointed as a Holy Maiden, tasked with teaching the village girls gu techniques to strengthen their bodies.

Then something happened. Months later, Jin Hua, who had long been missing, inexplicably returned to the village, now transformed into a closed-door disciple of the “Apricot Grove Sect.”

Rumor had it that she had been abducted by demonic cultivators but was rescued by an elder of the Apricot Grove Sect. Impressed by her innate talent and her foundation in medical gu techniques, the elder took her in as a disciple.

Jin Hua even adopted the elder’s surname, elevating her status beyond the ordinary. Yet, upon returning to Miaojiang, she remained friendly, even condescending to guide the newcomers. She even gifted Wu Ruo several exquisite cultivation-world dresses.

“From now on, I’ll be your connection in the cultivation world. Just call me ‘Sister Jin Hua,’ and I’ll help you out.”

Taking this opportunity, Wu Ruo tentatively asked about Jiang Qingbei’s senior sister, only to receive a puzzled reply: “Jiang Qingbei? Never heard of her. Some no-name sect, I suppose. And I certainly don’t know her senior sister either. The cultivation world is vast, how could I possibly know everyone?”

Perhaps that woman was just a rogue cultivator from a minor sect.

Wu Ruo didn’t press further, treating the matter as nothing more than a passing episode in her life.

As the Holy Maiden of Miaojiang, she began learning from the High Priestess how to conduct rituals and divine blessings, gradually shouldering the responsibilities befitting a woman of her age.

For instance, she set up a barrier around the tribe. If anyone triggered the restriction, she could take immediate action to protect the tribe without them ever knowing.

Time flowed quietly by until one day, she noticed that the mist hanging over the towering cliffs bordering the Zhiyuan Immortal Sect had suddenly changed its form.

And there, at the very bottom of the cliffs, she encountered someone entirely unexpected.

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