The Immortal’s "White Moonlight" Reborn - Chapter 19

“Her life is barely preserved, but the Soul Pearl’s effect isn’t as potent as we anticipated. It’s still treating the symptoms rather than the root cause. While Sect Leader Yun’s method is a gamble, success is the only way to truly reverse Fellow Cultivator Wen’s condition… Sect Leader, this cannot be rushed. You must tend to your own wounds first.”

The room was thick with the heavy, metallic scent of blood. Having just rushed back from the Hualing Secret Realm, Yun Heng was covered in injuries she hadn’t yet tended to. Darkened blood trailed down her arm, pooling on the floor, and a jagged gash carved by some sharp relic tore across her shoulder. The raw, mangled flesh was a sight too painful to look at.

For a True Immortal to be battered to this extent, the lethality of that secret realm was unimaginable.

Since her return, she had been acting as the medium to integrate Wen Qiwu with the Soul Pearl. Not once had she uttered a word of pain. Had it not been for the crimson stains that were too glaring to ignore, onlookers might have mistaken her for being entirely unharmed.

Now that the patient’s condition had stabilized, the Divine Physician pressed Yun Heng to treat herself immediately. If she delayed any longer, the lingering damage might become permanent.

Yun Heng hesitated for a moment before preparing to lay the unconscious woman gently onto the bed. It was then that a single tear escaped Wen Qiwu’s closed eyes.

Yun Heng froze. She immediately pulled out a clean handkerchief to dab away her sister’s tears. It was only when her fingertips brushed against that pale face that she realized her hands were shaking violently partly from the aftershocks of terror, and partly from the searing pain.

She was flesh and blood, not a stone statue; she felt the pain. But the moment Yun Heng had noticed a crack appearing in the jade pendant she carried, everything else had ceased to matter.

Those close to the Immortal knew she wore a jade pendant that never left her side. It wasn’t a legendary treasure, but rather Wen Qiwu’s life-tablet. In the Wenshen Sect, every disciple had one; it was intrinsically tied to their life force. A shattered tablet meant death. While others’ tablets were kept in the Hall of Life, Wen Qiwu’s was always on Yun Heng’s person. A crack meant she was at death’s door. Not even during the previous flare-up had the jade cracked; on the flight back, Yun Heng’s mind had been a terrifying blank.

Only now, feeling her sister’s steady, rhythmic breathing, did the pain in her own shoulder finally register.

The sleeping woman was restless, her brows knit in an unconscious frown as tears soaked the handkerchief. Yun Heng began to gently pat her back, just as she used to do when Qiwu had nightmares as a child, whispering softly, “Don’t be afraid, A-Que.”

Only after the tears stopped did Yun Heng finally tuck her under the covers.

Realizing her own blood had stained the bedding, Yun Heng used a cleansing spell to purge every trace of red before finally standing up.

“When will she wake?” she asked the two healers.

The Divine Physician and Lu Qiaoyi exchanged a glance. Both saw the gravity and uncertainty reflected in each other’s eyes.

“I’m afraid this coma will last much longer than the last,” the physician replied. Wen Qiwu’s soul had practically disintegrated. It was only because Yun Heng had brought back the Soul Pearl just in time that her spirit was painstakingly reconstructed. This coma was a form of self-preservation, a deep rest required to heal a deficit several times worse than the previous one.

Yun Heng’s gaze was heavy with worry. She moved to touch her sister’s thinned cheek, but as she calmed down, the memory of that kiss from months ago resurfaced. Her hand stiffened in mid-air, and she slowly, silently withdrew it.

A-Que, wake up quickly. You must get well.

But even the Divine Physician didn’t anticipate that Wen Qiwu’s sleep would last for three long years.

Three years later, inside the small cabin on Reflection Cliff.

Qing Tuan, who had been sitting in its cage with its eyes closed as if dozing, suddenly caught a sound. It snapped its eyes open, fluttering its wings and letting out a sharp, rhythmic chirp.

As Wen Qiwu’s consciousness slowly surfaced, she felt as though she were submerged in a swamp. A weight seemed to be dragging her down, her chest felt heavy, and her breathing was shallow—as if she were about to be smothered by the darkness.

Then, a clear, sharp bird-call pierced the void. The sound seemed to shatter the dark and sever the tether pulling her under. As a sliver of light broke through, her mind lunged toward it. Her lashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.

Awakening, Wen Qiwu was disoriented. Her limbs were like water, completely devoid of strength. Her long sleep hadn’t left her refreshed; instead, her soul felt profoundly weary, as if she might slip away again at any second.

Qing Tuan’s noise drew Lu Qiaoyi’s attention. She rushed into the room, letting out a long, shuddering breath of relief when she saw Wen Qiwu awake.

“You’re finally awake! Little Bird, you nearly scared me to death this time!” Lu Qiaoyi patted her chest, then pulled a pill from her storage pouch and placed it in Wen Qiwu’s mouth. The medicine dissolved instantly, turning into a stream of pure spiritual energy that circulated through her body.

As the numbness receded, Wen Qiwu’s expression suddenly shifted. She struggled to prop herself up, reaching out to snag Lu Qiaoyi’s sleeve just as the Elder was turning to get some water.

“Oh, my little ancestor! Do you want to fall?” Lu Qiaoyi was startled. She was a good distance from the bed; if Qiwu had missed, she would have gone face-first onto the floor.

She hurriedly supported the girl, guiding her back against the pillows and pressing her down firmly.

“Be good, don’t move. Just talk to me like this, I’m not going anywhere…” Seeing that Wen Qiwu refused to let go of her sleeve, Lu Qiaoyi had no choice but to let her hold on.

“Sister… cough…” Wen Qiwu’s throat was parched and raw. Her first two words were a raspy croak, but she used every ounce of her strength to keep the Elder from moving. She had something more important to ask than for a drink of water.

“How is my sister? Was she hurt? I smelled blood so much blood!” This thought had been haunting her throughout her battle with the flames. It was the one thing that kept her fighting; even if she were to die, she had to know her sister was safe.

“Your sister is fine, much better than you!” Lu Qiaoyi said with a huff. “Focus on yourself for once. She’s a True Immortal; what could possibly happen to her?”

Wen Qiwu’s grip loosened slightly. “Elder… I can only see you right now. Please, don’t lie to me.”

“Why would I lie? The Sect Leader is currently giving a lecture to the disciples as we speak. She couldn’t be better.” Lu Qiaoyi opened a mirror—an immortal artifact. With a pulse of energy, the surface rippled and displayed a live image of Yun Heng lecturing on Wendao Mountain.

Wen Qiwu watched the figure in the mirror with a look bordering on hunger. She had truly believed she would never see her sister again.

“But I definitely smelled blood…”

“Blood?” Lu Qiaoyi sniffed the air. “There’s only medicine and calming incense here. Where would the blood be?”

“I sensed it right as I was losing consciousness. I even heard the Divine Physician saying she was powerless.” Wen Qiwu’s memory was fuzzy, but she couldn’t forget that overwhelming scent of blood—one she instinctively knew belonged to her sister. Even in her coma, it had caused her heart to ache.

It took Lu Qiaoyi a moment to connect Wen Qiwu’s words to the scene from three years ago. She realized the confusion and laughed softly. “Silly girl, you’ve been unconscious for three years!”

Three years?!

Wen Qiwu had no idea so much time had passed. “Then… was she hurt three years ago?”

“…She sustained a few scratches, but don’t worry. It wasn’t serious, and the physician patched her right up.” Lu Qiaoyi told a white lie, as Yun Heng had strictly requested. In truth, Yun Heng had been gravely injured by a dragon-corpse possessing the Ancestral Dragon bloodline. The wounds and the corpse-poison were severe; even now, she hadn’t fully recovered.

Wen Qiwu lowered her head, her eyes shimmering with tears.

Lu Qiaoyi patted her head. “Isn’t it a good thing that she’s fine? Why the tears?”

Wen Qiwu looked down, her voice choking with sobs. “Elder… I regret it.”

At the threshold of death, the regret and longing she had suppressed finally swallowed every other emotion.

If only she had hidden her feelings better that day, she wouldn’t be in this position—where she could only see her sister’s face through a distant mirror, wondering if the words she heard about her safety were even true.

Her eyes were red as she stared at her sister’s image. This mirror had become her only solace.

Lu Qiaoyi, unsure how to comfort her, decided to change the subject. She pulled a stack of butterfly-shaped messages from her pouch. “I found these outside the cliff. I believe they’re for you.”

They were letters from Zuo Lan. It appeared the Saintess had missed her earlier messages for some reason, and now that she had seen them, she had sent a flurry of replies.

Wen Qiwu forced herself to focus and tapped the first butterfly.

I am so sorry, Miss Wen! My Master had some kind of breakdown and threw me into our sect’s Inheritance Tower the moment I got back. I couldn’t get a single message in there.

Come to the Yuxi Sect as soon as you’re out of seclusion. I’ll teach you exactly how to change the dynamic between you and your sister.

…Wen Qiwu opened the final message. Zuo Lan’s voice was suddenly much louder and sharper.

I just heard from your Elder Lu that you’ve been thrown into Reflection Cliff?! How could the Immortal do that to you?! I thought she treated you differently… I was wrong about her! Even that scoundrel Lin didn’t throw me into a hole like that! Don’t worry, I’m coming for you. I’ll find a way to break you out!

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