After My Paranoid Act to Woo My Cold Master Failed - Chapter 40

The young girl lay collapsed in the piercingly cold ice spring, her face frozen to the point of near-transparency. Her snowy white robes drifted and unfurled in the flowing water like a fragile magnolia blossom caught in a storm, liable to be snapped at any moment.

Standing in the water, Fu Xueke leaned down and swiftly scooped the girl up. The small body curled into her embrace; the girl’s temperature had dropped so low it felt perversely scalding, searing Fu Xueke’s fingertips.

She converted the spiritual energy within her body into a warm current and funneled it into the girl, hoping to bring warmth back to her disciple’s frame.

As she transferred the energy, she began to blame herself. If not for her, A-Heng would not have lost consciousness and remained soaked in the cold spring for so long. The only saving grace was that she hadn’t fallen directly under the waterfall while unconscious.

The cold spring here was unlike any other; it was manageable if one had spiritual energy to resist it, but without that protection, the cold poison would seep into the marrow, leaving behind a permanent ailment.

Fu Xueke carried her disciple and hurried toward the Hall of Heart-Searching (Wenxin Ge). Before long, she arrived at the bath chamber.

Wisps of steam rose from the pool, saturating the entire room.

Fu Xueke walked to the edge of the bath and removed the girl’s clothes, which were drenched through by the icy spring. As she shed those garments, a vast expanse of crystalline skin slowly appeared before her eyes. The hand resting on the girl’s waist trembled slightly.

She averted her eyes, then looked back, taking a soft breath. The heat of the room made her cheeks flush slightly pink.

Clasping the unclothed girl, Fu Xueke descended into the pool. The quiet water became restless at their arrival, sending countless ripples slapping against them from every direction.

Her own robes had long been soaked through, clinging tightly to her body in a manner that was extremely uncomfortable, but now was not the time for such thoughts.

Fu Xueke’s entire focus was on the person in her arms. She guided her spiritual energy into the girl’s body, cleansing the cold poison that had settled within.

That fierce cold poison followed the spiritual energy back into Fu Xueke’s own body, acting like the sharpest of ice blades rampaging through her meridians, their tips stabbing directly at her heart.

Her lips turned deathly pale. Against the bone-chilling poison, the warm bathwater felt like trying to extinguish a fire with a cup of water. Fu Xueke could have used her spiritual energy to suppress the savage cold, but she chose not to. Her A-Heng was suffering from the cold poison at this very moment, and it was entirely due to her negligence as a Master. She deserved to endure this torment alongside her.

She considered this her own doing. A faint smile touched her pale lips as she stared unblinkingly at the girl in her arms. The person she held seemed as fragile as jade; one slight touch and she might shatter and drift away.

A preposterous thought suddenly surfaced in Fu Xueke’s mind: How wonderful it would be if it could always be like this. If she could hold her while she slept forever, in a world with no one else—only the two of them—then A-Heng would belong solely to her.

But this was unrealistic, and her own morality would not permit it.

She knew her disciple would one day grow up completely. She would discover how vast the world is, tread across ten thousand rivers and a thousand mountains, and find someone she shared mutual affection with—perhaps a woman, perhaps a man.

But why can that person not be me?

No… it cannot be her. It must not be her. A lonely mist clouded Fu Xueke’s eyes. These thoughts instantly sapped her energy, leaving fatigue to wander through every part of her body. Her frame felt heavy beneath the undulating water.

Resisting the exhaustion, she held the girl even tighter with both hands, terrified that a moment’s lapse would result in her falling and breaking.

After an unknown amount of time, the cold poison was finally purged. She stood in the water, the fine beads of moisture on her forehead indistinguishable as either bathwater or sweat. One drop slid down to her eyelashes and hung there, the light refracting through it reflecting in her weary eyes.

Fu Xueke walked through the water carrying her disciple, the sound of splashing accompanying her as messy ripples fanned out across the pool.

The girl’s eyes were tightly shut, round droplets of water rolling over her ivory skin. Fu Xueke thought of tender spring buds; the dew hanging on fresh green leaves reflecting the dim morning light, sparkling and full of life. And why shouldn’t it be so? A youth in their teens was exactly like that.

The warm yellow lamplight struck Fu Xueke’s side, drawing a dividing line across her body—half in the bright light, half in the murky shadow. All her unspeakable secrets crouched within that shadow.

She wiped the water from the girl’s body and changed her into a set of clean, snowy white undergarments.

Fu Xueke carried her disciple out into the snow. At this hour, the bright moon hung high, its clear radiance falling upon the girl’s face, making her look strikingly beautiful.

She remembered another night when the moon was just as bright as tonight—the very night where all her sordid beginnings had taken root.

Reaching her own bedroom door, she freed one hand to push it open but paused, then withdrew her hand.

Holding the girl, she turned and walked toward the other side: toward her disciple’s room.

She pushed the door open very quietly, fearing she might wake the person in her arms. Approaching the bed, she carefully laid her disciple down, pulled up the quilt, and tucked her in.

She worried that her disciple might develop a fever. If she did, the girl would suffer, and she would suffer right along with her.

Fu Xueke sat quietly by the bedside, watching the sleeping face. She reached out and extinguished the candle, allowing darkness to swallow them.

Moonlight filtered through the window, spreading silently across the floor like a quiet river flowing through the dark.

Fu Xueke noticed the river-like moonlight swaying at her feet.

The sound of an unceasing current seemed to ring in her ears. Between her and the girl, there was also a river—a thin, small stream of water that was, for her, impossible to cross.

A faint sigh escaped her lips, circling the room like a ghost before vanishing without a trace. In the silent night, only the sound of the wind remained, sobbing as it wandered endlessly over the pale snow.

“Cough… cough, cough.”

The sound of coughing banished all of Fu Xueke’s fatigue. She immediately patted her disciple’s back.

“Mas… Master, I feel so unwell,” the girl’s voice was hoarse.

“Come, drink some water.” Fu Xueke slowly helped the girl up, letting her lean against the headboard.

The warm yellow light flared to life, and the darkness melted away instantly.

Fu Xueke handed the water cup to her disciple. She saw that the girl’s face was flushed crimson, her forehead beaded with fine sweat. Those clear eyes had become cloudy and bloodshot.

The sudden glare of the light pricked Shen Shuheng’s eyes, making her blink uncontrollably.

Shen Shuheng took the tea cup from her Master, holding it blankly. Her throat felt like parched, cracked earth in desperate need of moisture, yet she didn’t drink. She simply stared at her own reflection in the water.

Fu Xueke pressed the back of her hand against her disciple’s forehead. As expected, it was burning hot; her disciple had a fever.

She attempted to use a healing spell, only to find it was of no use. Against the lingering effects of the cold poison, she was helpless.

“Why aren’t you drinking? It isn’t hot,” Fu Xueke said, seeing her disciple staring dazed at the cup, hesitating.

“I want Master to feed me,” she said, lifting her flushed face and smiling with pure innocence.

Fu Xueke took the cup back and slowly brought it to the girl’s lips. “Slowly…” She wanted to ask if she was hungry, but feared she might choke, so she swallowed the question.

The cup of water was quickly drained.

“I want more water. I want to drink lots and lots of water,” her tone was soft and sweet.

It was a voice that made one’s heart turn to mush; any hardness within would melt away upon hearing it.

Shen Shuheng drank cup after cup of warm water. Although her head was still heavy and her body felt incredibly hot, her throat finally felt better.

Seeing her disciple had finished, Fu Xueke asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Hungry,” Shen Shuheng replied, her large, round eyes blinking.

“I will go brew some porridge for you.”

Hearing that her Master was leaving, Shen Shuheng quickly grabbed her sleeve. “You aren’t allowed to go.” After saying this, she shook her head again. “Don’t go.”

Fu Xueke gave a small laugh. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Shen Shuheng nodded, staring at her fixedly.

“If you’re hungry, don’t you need to eat?”

She nodded again.

“Therefore, I need to go to the kitchen to brew porridge for you, otherwise you will have to stay hungry.”

Dazed, Shen Shuheng scratched the back of her head, tugging at her hair. “Not… not hungry. Won’t eat. Don’t go. You just aren’t allowed to go.”

Fu Xueke felt that after falling ill, her disciple had reverted to her former self—becoming like an innocent child who knew nothing of the world.

Previously, because her soul was incomplete, her disciple’s intellect had remained like that of a child. Fu Xueke had searched for a long time without finding the missing soul fragments, yet after she ended her meditative seclusion, she found the missing soul had returned.

She released a wisp of divine sense to inspect her disciple’s soul, only to discover that a portion of it had been wounded. When did this happen? She hadn’t noticed at all. Once again, she felt her own failure as a Master.

Fortunately, the wound to the soul was very slight; it would recover after some time of nurturing. However, for these few days, her disciple’s intellect had reverted to that of a child of several years.

“Please don’t leave me. I’ll work hard to become useful. They all say Master left me because I’m so useless,” Shen Shuheng said, rubbing her reddened eyes and pleading with a sob in her voice.

Fu Xueke’s heart skipped a beat, and she was overcome with self-reproach. Her several years of seclusion had felt like the blink of an eye to her, but to her disciple, it had been a long and agonizing span of time. While she was away, A-Heng had suffered through bullying, and the only person who could have helped her wasn’t there, leaving her to be mocked by others.

“I haven’t left you, and I won’t leave you. Master went into seclusion back then to become stronger so I could protect A-Heng,” Fu Xueke said with a gentle smile, her hand rhythmically stroking her disciple’s head.

And yet, she hadn’t protected her well. Even by her side, A-Heng had still been hurt. Fu Xueke’s heart throbbed with a pain so sharp it made her feel as though she were suffocating.

“A-Heng believes Master. Master definitely didn’t lie to me; it was those nasty people who lied to A-Heng,” Shen Shuheng choked out, leaning against Fu Xueke’s arm.

“A-Heng also wants to protect Master. A-Heng isn’t a useless person. I’ll be very obedient.”

A warm current filled Fu Xueke’s eyes; she was moved to tears.

“Alright. You lie down first, and Master will go brew some porridge for you.”

Shen Shuheng lay down obediently, even tucking the quilt around herself. “Master must come back. A-Heng can only protect Master once I’ve eaten my fill.”

“I’ll be back. I will definitely return.”

Fu Xueke produced a wet cloth, chilled it, folded it, and placed it on her disciple’s forehead.

“Master, can you sleep with A-Heng in a little bit?”

Fu Xueke instinctively wanted to refuse, but her disciple grabbed her arms, shaking them and giving her a sweet smile. The words at the tip of her tongue were swallowed back down.

“I can,” she replied. She truly could not say no. Moreover, things were different now; the resolution she had made before simply did not apply to the present moment.