The Immortal’s "White Moonlight" Reborn - Chapter 11

In an era where the God Realm has become a mere legend, the True Immortal stage stands as the pinnacle of cultivation in the Cangwang Realm. For years, the Demon Realm had remained relatively quiet, largely because none of the three Demon Lords could grasp the threshold of becoming a True Immortal.

With a True Immortal guarding the Dongzhao Domain, the demons had no choice but to keep their heads down. But now that a True Immortal had emerged from the Demon Realm, the balance of power in the Cangwang Realm shifted instantly into a delicate, dangerous state.

It wasn’t surprising that a Demon Lord would incite war, but it was shocking that the one to reach the True Immortal stage was the Myriad Soul Demon Lord. Historically, his strength had been the lowest among the three. How could he possibly leap multiple levels in just ten short years?

Yun Heng meticulously combed through every item Elder Zhu had left behind, eventually uncovering a few scattered clues.

It appeared the Myriad Soul Demon Lord had stumbled upon some fortuitous opportunity that allowed others to advance their realms unnaturally. Elder Zhu had been stuck at the Daoist Master stage for far too long; after several failed attempts to reach the Golden Immortal stage, he had developed an inner demon. It was then that the Myriad Soul Demon Lord dangled a bait he couldn’t refuse, and he bit.

In the end, it was greed that bred disaster. What good could ever come from a deal with a demon? From the very beginning, the Myriad Soul Demon Lord had no intention of fulfilling his promise. Once the demon achieved his goals, the useless tool was meant to vanish.

With the mole dead, Yun Heng became incredibly busy. The Cangwang Realm had known peace for tens of thousands of years, and people had grown complacent. No one knew how deeply the Demon Lords had infiltrated the Five Domains. Yun Heng now had to coordinate with other sects regarding the demon threat while simultaneously investigating her own sect from within. Consequently, the time she spent with Wen Qiwu decreased significantly.

Wen Qiwu hadn’t expected her birthday to coincide with such a chaotic period. She told Lu Qiaoyi that perhaps they should skip the celebration this year.

But Lu Qiaoyi dismissed the idea without a second thought. “In previous years, either your sister was in seclusion or you were. I haven’t had a chance to give you a proper birthday in ages. We’re definitely making up for it this year.”

“It’ll just be a private celebration among our own—it’s not a hassle at all. Let me handle everything. After all…” Lu Qiaoyi lowered her head to check Wen Qiwu’s condition, her expression hidden. “…There might not be many good opportunities like this in the future.”

Not many opportunities? Wen Qiwu looked at her, puzzled.

“You don’t know yet? Your sister is preparing to break through to the late True Immortal stage. Once your health stabilizes, she’ll likely enter seclusion. If all goes as usual, she’ll be gone for decades, maybe even a century,” Lu Qiaoyi explained.

I see…

Wen Qiwu felt a wave of gloom. It was her illness that was slowing down her sister’s cultivation progress.

After adjusting the medicinal formula, Lu Qiaoyi did something rare: she packed her medical kit immediately, preparing to leave.

“Is the Elder busy as well?” Wen Qiwu asked, setting down her medicine bowl.

Today’s brew had a sharp, stinging sourness to it. She assumed Elder Lu had added some strange new herb and didn’t give it much thought, her mind preoccupied with her sister.

“It’s all because of that traitor. No one knows if Elder Zhu was an isolated case. The elders argued in the Assembly Hall all morning. Finally, your sister decided to conduct a thorough sweep of the sect. Every elder at the Daoist Master stage and above has to undergo the ‘Heart-Questioning Trial.'”

Lu Qiaoyi was the person closest to them besides their late Master; she had practically raised them. Yun Heng and Wen Qiwu trusted her implicitly, but the formal procedures could not be bypassed.

As they spoke, the jade tablet at Lu Qiaoyi’s waist flickered twice. She glanced down and huffed irritably. “I know, I know! Didn’t I say I’d be a bit late? What’s the rush?”

“You should go. Don’t let them wait on my account,” Wen Qiwu said, standing up to see her out.

Lu Qiaoyi couldn’t very well make everyone wait for her alone. She grabbed her kit and headed for Wendao Mountain.

Once she was gone, Wen Qiwu’s residence fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of Qing Tuan hopping around in its cage.

Wen Qiwu added some spirit grain and chopped fruit to the cage. Qing Tuan was a picky little thing; it refused to touch fruit unless it was neatly sliced.

“Qing Tuan, you need to work harder on your cultivation too,” Wen Qiwu whispered, gently stroking its head while it ate.

She knew the little guy understood her; it just preferred to ignore her whenever she started nagging. She had met this bird when she was only three years old. At the time, Qing Tuan was already at the Mind’s Eye stage. Now, Wen Qiwu had reached the Void Refinement stage, yet the bird was still stuck at its original level. If it didn’t improve soon, its lifespan would run out.

“Chirp chirp chirp!” Little Qing Tuan suddenly burst into a flurry of bird-talk.

Wen Qiwu stared at the bird. The bird stared back.

She didn’t speak bird.

Qing Tuan got angry, puffing up into a round white-and-green ball and turning its tail toward her.

“…Why are you mad again?” Wen Qiwu poked it. She suspected the bird was frustrated that she couldn’t understand it, but she was human; how was she supposed to know what “chirp” meant?

“Qing Tuan, the Demon Lord’s spies have infiltrated the sect. There might be a war coming. It won’t be safe outside anymore, and you love flying off to play. If you aren’t strong enough, it’ll be dangerous…” As she spoke, Wen Qiwu suddenly felt her consciousness becoming heavy and sluggish.

The bird, sensing the sudden silence behind it, turned around. Its black, beady eyes reflected Wen Qiwu’s slumped form as she collapsed onto the table.

“Chirp!” Qing Tuan immediately hopped to the side of the cage closest to her.

Creak…

Her door suddenly swung open, and a figure stepped inside, silhouetted against the light.

Qing Tuan spread its wings, a dangerous light gleaming in its eyes. The runes Yun Heng had carved into the cage began to ripple with power.

Only when the figure drew closer and the bird saw the face did it fold its wings. The ripples on the cage subsided.

When Wen Qiwu woke up, it was already dark. She wasn’t slumped at the table but was lying in her bed. As her illness worsened, she had grown used to these uncontrollable bouts of sleep, but today felt different. Her stomach felt nauseous, and her head spun in dizzying circles.

“Are you uncomfortable?” A dim candle on the bedside revealed Yun Heng’s silhouette. When she had returned, her sister was already asleep. But there was work to be done tonight; if Qiwu hadn’t woken up on her own, Yun Heng would have had to wake her.

“Sister?” Wen Qiwu looked at her with hazy, unfocused eyes. Her physical distress gave her an air of profound fragility.

Yun Heng stroked her forehead, her cool power soothing the vertigo.

“I think I slept too long. My head is spinning,” Wen Qiwu murmured, leaning into her sister’s palm.

Feeling the warmth against her hand, the irritability Yun Heng had felt from the day’s troubles seemed to vanish.

“Qiwu, today is the day for your medicinal bath. Can you walk, or should I carry you?”

“I can manage.” Since growing up, she had rarely asked her sister to carry her. The shy Wen Qiwu sat up immediately, though her body swayed as she moved her feet to the floor, looking precarious.

Realizing her sister was just being stubborn, Yun Heng simply gathered her into her arms.

Suddenly airborne, Wen Qiwu’s eyes went wide, and she instinctively looped her arms around her sister’s neck. The intimacy of the gesture made her face flush a soft red.

“Sister, I can walk,” she whispered, her voice like a tiny cricket.

“You can barely stand, yet you’re still trying to act tough?” Her sister’s tone held a firm, unyielding edge. Wen Qiwu buried her face in Yun Heng’s chest. Though she acted conflicted, she was secretly overjoyed.

Yun Heng had built a large bath for Wen Qiwu, where the Divine Physician’s carefully crafted herbs were added to the water to strengthen her body.

When they reached the bath, the steam hit Wen Qiwu’s face, making her already warm cheeks feel even hotter.

“I’ll be right outside the door. Call me if you need anything,” Yun Heng reminded her repeatedly. Her sister’s state today was truly worrying.

Sister is too overprotective sometimes, Wen Qiwu thought with a smile as she shed her outer layers, leaving only a thin inner robe.

But she hadn’t anticipated that once her sister’s immortal power was no longer supporting her, the dizziness would return with a vengeance. She stepped on a wet patch of floor, her foot slipped, and she tumbled into the bath.

Just as her head was about to strike the stone edge, a force yanked her to the side.

Splash! Water sprayed everywhere.

Wen Qiwu pushed herself up, looking like a drowned rat. She was completely soaked; the thin white robe clung to her skin, outlining every curve of her lithe figure.

The water was being constantly heated, and the rising mist made the room hazy. But mist was no obstacle for an Immortal’s eyes. The ever-proper Yun Heng silently averted her gaze.

But when Wen Qiwu opened her eyes and saw her sister beneath her, she froze, completely forgetting to get up.

Her sister had been dragged down with her and was also drenched. The wet fabric clung to Yun Heng’s jade-white skin. As the Immortal sat up, droplets of water trailed down her neck and disappeared into the depths of her collar.

The pristine “moon” had fallen into the water. The mundane liquid seemed to wash away her ethereal, untouchable air, replacing it with an indescribable, intoxicating allure.

Yun Heng breathed softly, her chest rising and falling. Her lips, slick with water, appeared more vivid and red than usual. Wen Qiwu’s gaze trembled uncontrollably. A deep craving and a dark, suppressed thought began to sprout and break through the soil of her heart.

She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to lock her sister away where no one else could ever look at her.

By the time Wen Qiwu’s reason returned, she realized she was already leaning dangerously close to her sister’s face!

Terrified, she jerked backward. The movement was so clumsy she nearly fell again, but Yun Heng was fast. She reached out and pulled her back, resulting in Wen Qiwu crashing directly into her sister’s chest.

It didn’t hurt—where she landed was surprisingly soft.

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