After My Thoughts Were Read, My Master Led Me to Change My Fate - Chapter 57

Ning Songwu was at a loss, her mind a tangled mess, but fortunately, she still knew to immediately rush out to find someone skilled in medicine.

Qing Muzi was standing far away at the foot of the steps, with Cen Ran and Helan Mianmian beside him, talking about something. Suddenly, they saw Ning Songwu rush out in a panic, covered in a lot of blood, and the three of them hurried up to her.

Ning Songwu grabbed Qing Muzi’s hand, not even having time to wipe the tears from her face. “I beg you, save Master, save Master…”

Seeing Ning Songwu in this state, Qing Muzi likely understood Ran Fanyin’s condition inside. He quickly said to Ning Songwu, “I’ll go see the Venerable now. You immediately go to the Alchemy Room and find Venerable Cheng Yunhuan. Tell him to come right away!”

Ning Songwu wasted no more words and immediately headed to the Alchemy Room.

Cen Ran and Helan Mianmian rushed into the room and saw Ran Fanyin leaning weakly against the headboard, her chin and body covered in blood, and they also panicked.

“Master!”

“Venerable…”

Ran Fanyin’s illness lasted for one month.

Cheng Yunhuan put down all his affairs and specifically stayed in the Alchemy Workshop to concoct various pills for Ran Fanyin. Ran Fanyin had already moved back to Prosperity-Withered Pavilion, and so batches of medicine were continuously sent up to the pavilion. Fortunately, Ran Fanyin’s constitution was superior to ordinary people’s; after all, she was the Venerable of North Fa Sect who had achieved the Dao, so these injuries could not pose a severe threat to her.

After this month, Ran Fanyin’s health, having received care from everyone and sufficient rest, was roughly seventy to eighty percent recovered.

Even if there were residual issues, they were minor. With proper recuperation, she would be fine.

This was the diagnosis personally given by Cheng Yunhuan.

For this entire month, Ning Songwu did not come to see Ran Fanyin again, as if she had vanished into thin air.

The sword that Ran Fanyin had expended a great price to forge was now completely solidified. Jiang Yue took the sword out, sharpened the blade, and brought it up to Prosperity-Withered Pavilion.

“Ran Fanyin, this is the sword you forged.” Jiang Yue presented the entirely crystal-red sword body to Ran Fanyin with both hands. The complex, exquisite totem of the phoenix soaring and singing, personally carved by Ran Fanyin, was beautiful beyond measure.

Ran Fanyin took the sword, her expression complex as she gently stroked the blade.

In the Alchemy Workshop on North Fa Mountain.

Ning Songwu lay on the bed, deathly still, her body showing no signs of breathing. Her clothing was stained with terrifying blood, and she was eerily quiet. The bright red cinnabar mole between her brows made her skin appear even paler.

Cheng Yunhuan and Qing Muzi personally diagnosed her. Cheng Yunhuan busied himself staunching Ning Songwu’s bleeding, while Qing Muzi went to the medicine cabinet to grab herbs, sighing as he did so: “She was lying here once seven years ago… Alas… Not long ago, her Master also lay here once… My Alchemy Workshop and Prosperity-Withered Pavilion truly have a connection…”

Ran Fanyin stood at the foot of the bed, staring intently at the unconscious Ning Songwu, her eyes frighteningly red, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles stood out, pale and stark.

“Great fortune, it didn’t pierce the heart, just barely missed. But the sword Qi has injured her heart meridian, so it is still very dangerous.” Cheng Yunhuan reached for Ning Songwu’s collar but paused. “…This… I need to stop her bleeding, but…”

Ran Fanyin said softly, “I will do it.”

Cheng Yunhuan nodded, bringing over the medicine and gauze nearby. “I have already sealed her main acupuncture points. You only need to apply the hemostatic medicine and wrap it up tightly. I will go concoct the remaining medicine for her.” With that, Cheng Yunhuan and Qing Muzi both exited the room.

Ran Fanyin gently sat by the bed. Her hands trembled violently as she slowly unbuttoned Ning Songwu’s blood-soaked clothes. Looking at Ning Songwu’s tightly closed eyes and the unusually bright red cinnabar on her brow, Ran Fanyin covered her mouth, a tear tracing a path from the corner of her eye.

She truly wished that it was she who was injured.

This child… her fate has been so difficult since she was small, why… must she be punished like this again…

Ran Fanyin could not imagine whether the person before her would still be alive if she hadn’t managed to step forward in time to catch Ning Songwu, who fell from such a high platform.

What if… she had died…

Ran Fanyin had never cried like this before. She had lived for over a hundred years, remaining stoic and emotionless for a lifetime, but if the person before her were to die… Her body shook with sobs, yet she desperately suppressed the sound in her throat.

Ning Songwu remained unconscious for half a month.

Ran Fanyin guarded her side for half a month, never leaving for a moment.

She knew that this child had been dependent on her since she was small. If she woke up and saw her in the very first glance, would she feel a little more at ease?

But Ning Songwu’s condition did not improve as expected. After half a month, not only did she not wake up, but she also suddenly spiked a high fever.

The group of people guarding the Alchemy Workshop bustled in and out. Cen Ran and Helan Mianmian rushed out to find medicinal ingredients, some rare ones needing to be retrieved from the medicine hall. While concocting pills, Cheng Yunhuan also took time to deal with Lan Ze’s matter.

The Lan family was a prominent aristocratic clan, so Cheng Yunhuan could not inflict excessive punishment. He merely expelled Lan Ze from North Fa Sect for intentionally harming a fellow disciple.

But just this single point caused the Lan family to lose great face, and Lan Ze was deeply traumatized.

Ran Fanyin’s face was haggard, but she remained by Ning Songwu’s side, replacing the wet towel on her forehead and feeding her water when she mumbled unconsciously that she was thirsty. Ran Fanyin continuously held Ning Songwu’s right hand, ceaselessly transferring True Qi to her.

“Master… Master…” Ning Songwu murmured softly, her brow furrowed in pain from the high fever.

“I’m here… I’m here,” Ran Fanyin softly comforted her, gripping Ning Songwu’s hand tightly.

“Don’t kill me… don’t leave me…” Ning Songwu slightly shook her head in distress, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes into her hairline.

Ran Fanyin’s tears immediately began to fall. She spoke with a tremble, “I won’t leave you. Never again will I leave you.”

“Master… I… I’m going to die… Kiss me… okay…” Ning Songwu cried in her delirium, uttering this sentence between sobs.

Ran Fanyin’s face was flooded with tears. She didn’t understand, didn’t understand what her own feelings were. But she understood one thing: she wanted to cherish this person.

Ran Fanyin propped up her upper body, slowly leaned down, and with a tremble, kissed Ning Songwu’s pale, scorching lips. The tears from her face fell and mixed with Ning Songwu’s, pooling on their lips, intensely bitter.

At the moment their soft lips and teeth intertwined, many images flashed rapidly.

Her body was still somewhat frail, but she endured it. She immediately sent for sandalwood, glazed glass, and other materials to personally decorate the sword. The hilt was entirely encased in glazed glass, crystal clear, matching the blade perfectly; then, golden threads were inlaid in the grooves of the blade, tracing the magnificent pattern of the phoenix spreading its wings and singing to the nine heavens.

Finally, Ran Fanyin personally carved the sword’s name—Feng Yu (Phoenix Feather)—in a corner below the guard.

The entire sword truly looked like a feather that had fallen from a phoenix, still burning with a blazing heat.

“Senior Brother, take this sword to Ning Songwu,” Ran Fanyin handed the Phoenix Feather Sword to Jiang Yue.

Jiang Yue held the sword and sighed deeply. “You spent seven years forging it, and then used your own blood to dedicate it. Such a precious thing, why won’t you give it to her yourself?”

“I don’t want her to know. Just say that you forged it,” Ran Fanyin replied lightly.

Ning Songwu was already consumed by her obsession with her. If Ning Songwu knew that she had forged this sword, she might be even more unable to let go. Moreover, she did not like such needless things to disturb the moods of others. Whether she was injured or weary had nothing to do with anyone else.

“Alas… this sword is indeed a fine sword, even better than your Luoshuang (Falling Frost). I’ve been forging swords for so many years, but I’ve never seen such a good one,” Jiang Yue affectionately touched the blade. “Since you are so obstinate, I won’t say more. I will take this to her now.”

Ran Fanyin nodded faintly, turning away in silence.

In Prosperity-Withered Pavilion, the memory of her hugging her neck with dependence, and her small habit of liking to rub her index finger.

In the small bamboo grove of Hongfei Pavilion, she clumsily practiced her sword skills to show her, trying awkwardly to please her with her effort.

At seventeen, her eyes were still dark and bright, the corners slightly upturned, carrying an alluring charm, as she stood gracefully, watching her quietly.

The first time she touched her lips.

The candied hawthorns in the paper bag.

She said, “Master, I like you… I love you…”

I love you.

Why was it not she who was lying here?

Ning Songwu, in a state of chaos, felt as though she had grasped a life-saving straw. She slowly opened her eyes with a tremble, seeing Ran Fanyin so close, and her tears flowed even more fiercely.

“Master…” Ning Songwu murmured, her hand raising with effort to clasp Ran Fanyin’s back, deeply returning the kiss.

Ran Fanyin felt Ning Songwu wake up and released the hand clasping her in astonishment. She retreated again and again in disbelief, her mind in disarray.

This was wrong.

Such feelings were wrong…

Ran Fanyin wanted to escape, to escape to an absolutely safe place. This was her disciple! This was her disciple! What had she just done? As a Master, not only had she failed to guide her disciple correctly, but she had also actively committed such an indecent act…

Ran Fanyin turned to leave, but Ning Songwu cried out, “Master! … Please don’t go…”

Ran Fanyin covered her mouth with her hand, crying uncontrollably. She couldn’t say a word, but she didn’t want to face it. How could she face such feelings?

Ran Fanyin pushed the door open and hurried away in a panic. Ning Songwu struggled to get up, kneeling on the bed, crying hoarsely, “Master… don’t you want me anymore…”

The sky was very dark. Ran Fanyin didn’t know where to go. In her confusion, she instinctively returned to Prosperity-Withered Pavilion.

Cang Min was sitting on the steps at the entrance of the main hall of Prosperity-Withered Pavilion. Seeing Ran Fanyin return, looking utterly lost, he quickly went up and took her hand. “Why are you back? Weren’t you taking care of your little disciple at the Alchemy Workshop?”

Ran Fanyin looked up at Cang Min, her eyes pleading. “Let’s go to Mount Kunlun… Let’s go to Mount Kunlun…”

“What? Go to Kunlun? Why suddenly run to such a distant place?”

“I don’t know… Take me to Kunlun… I don’t want to be here… I don’t want to…” Tears streamed down Ran Fanyin’s face, and her hand weakly pulled on Cang Min’s sleeve.

Cang Min had never seen Ran Fanyin look like this before—fragile like a child, as if a slight movement could break her. She bore no resemblance to the cold, detached Venerable.

Cang Min said, “Alright, alright, I’ll take you to Kunlun.”

“Where… did Master go?” Ning Songwu leaned weakly against the headboard, quietly watching Cen Ran feed her medicine.

A flicker of pain crossed Cen Ran’s eyes. She lowered her head and said in a deep voice, “Don’t ask… Come, drink your medicine first.”

“It’s been… three days since I last saw Master.” Ning Songwu ignored the medicine bowl held up to her mouth and spoke blankly, “Where did she go?”

“…” Cen Ran turned her head away, put down the medicine bowl, and remained silent.

“Where did she go?” Ning Songwu spoke mechanically, her eyes vacant.

“Ning Songwu, let go of these improper thoughts.” Cen Ran had been with Ning Songwu and Helan Mianmian for so many years; how could she not see Ning Songwu’s feelings? If she liked anyone else, it would be fine… but it had to be Master.

Ning Songwu said woodenly, “Where did she go?”

“Master left. She left North Fa Sect. Ning Songwu, wake up! Don’t be so obsessed!” Cen Ran held Ning Songwu’s shoulder in distress.

Tears suddenly welled up in Ning Songwu’s eyes. Her chin trembled violently, but she still asked, “Where… did she go?”

“Kunlun! Master and Senior Cang Min returned to Kunlun together. So, put your hopes to rest!”

“Kunlun…” Ning Songwu murmured, “Kunlun… Why… is she in Kunlun… and I… am still here?”

“What?” Cen Ran was stunned.

“Where she is… is where I should be… Since Ran Fanyin is not here, why, then, should I, Ning Songwu, still be here?”

This was the first time Cen Ran had heard Ning Songwu call out her Master’s full name.

Ning Songwu clutched her heavily injured chest, ignoring her low fever. She suddenly flipped out of bed, staggering a few steps, nearly falling.

Cen Ran quickly supported her. “What nonsense are you doing? Get back and lie down!”

“Senior Sister…” Ning Songwu cried while gripping Cen Ran’s sleeve, “If you still want me to live, then let me go to Kunlun…”

“Ning Songwu, why don’t you understand yet? If Master could accept you, she wouldn’t have left you…”

“No, no, she likes me. I’m sure of it, she likes me. But she… is just a little timid. But I don’t mind. Master has always been very timid… It’s okay. It’s enough that I am brave… So I must… I must go and bring her back…” Ning Songwu sobbed, speaking haltingly.

“But your body…” Tears also flowed from Cen Ran’s eyes. She held Ning Songwu, not daring to move.

“Senior Sister, my life… is with her…” Ning Songwu pleaded with Cen Ran with an utterly humble look. “I beg you, let me go find her. I beg you.”

Cen Ran sniffed and finally nodded. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

Since returning to Hongfei Pavilion, Ning Songwu had locked herself in her room, copying assignments day and night until she saw double; then, she would take her sword to the small bamboo grove behind to practice frantically until her limbs were exhausted and she couldn’t move anymore.

Helan Mianmian stood quietly by, watching. She saw Ning Songwu’s sword clang onto the ground. Ning Songwu sat on the ground in defeat. Helan Mianmian walked over, squatted in front of Ning Songwu, and picked up her sword.

“Ning Songwu, you like the Venerable, don’t you?” Helan Mianmian asked softly.

“…” Ning Songwu did not answer, merely staring vacantly at a nonexistent point.

“Since you cannot give her up, what are you doing now?”

“You are indulging yourself, you are in despair. Because of a minor setback, you have lost faith in all hope. Ning Songwu, is your love worth so little?”

“Helan Mianmian… I’m just very tired. I haven’t given up, I just…”

“You are just a little discouraged. But it’s okay, Ning Songwu. The Venerable has been cold and detached for over a hundred years; it was never going to be easy to melt her heart. The other day, I saw her cry. She cried for you. Do you understand what that means?”

Ning Songwu smiled faintly at Helan Mianmian. “I understand. Thank you.”

“Prepare well for the Sword Trial Tournament.” Helan Mianmian patted Ning Songwu’s shoulder.

Ning Songwu nodded. She looked past Helan Mianmian’s shoulder and saw Jiang Yue walking toward them. She quickly stood up and said, “Venerable Jiang Yue.”

Helan Mianmian turned her head and also said respectfully, “Venerable Jiang Yue.”

Jiang Yue handed the Phoenix Feather Sword, carefully wrapped in silk cloth, to Ning Songwu. “Take this sword. Use it well in the Sword Trial Tournament.”

Ning Songwu accepted it somewhat bewilderedly. She weighed it in her hand and asked in confusion, “Where did this sword… come from?”

Jiang Yue looked troubled and only said, “You don’t need to ask. You just need to know that this is a peerless fine sword. Use it well.”

Ning Songwu lifted a corner of the silk cloth. Her hand clasped the hilt of the Phoenix Feather Sword, and a mysteriously familiar sensation suddenly surged into her heart. She felt the luminous jade hanging on her chest seemed to be heating up.

Ning Songwu quickly called out to Jiang Yue, who was turning to leave. “Venerable Jiang Yue!”

Jiang Yue slightly turned his head. “Is there anything else?”

“Is this sword… related to Master?” For some reason, she just had that intuition.

Jiang Yue sighed, remaining silent for a long time before saying, “You have a clever mind. Think carefully about why your Master lost so much blood a while ago.”

Ning Songwu trembled all over. She looked at the Phoenix Feather Sword in her hand, the entirely crystal-red blade painfully stinging her eyes.

Could this… be forged from Master’s blood?

Jiang Yue added, “I shouldn’t hide it from you. Ran Fanyin forged it for seven years. To forge this sword, she layered new injuries upon old ones on her wrist. Her physical weakness was also caused by the exhausting back-and-forth between Prosperity-Withered Pavilion and the Sword Forging Pool. In the end, she even offered her own blood to dedicate the sword. Ning Songwu, hold onto it well. Every detail of this sword was personally crafted by your Master. It still carries so much of her blood!”

Ning Songwu bit her lip tightly, her tears flowing uncontrollably.

She suddenly recalled her Master’s indifferent, distant voice:

“My injury… has nothing to do with you.”

The blood-red sword, held in her hand, gave a misleading sensation of scalding heat. It seemed to sense the co-originated blood in the luminous jade on Ning Songwu’s neck, and it vibrated slightly with great spirituality.