The Immortal’s "White Moonlight" Reborn - Chapter 42

“I am right here. This isn’t a dream, and I’m not your inner demon.”

Wen Qiwu sighed inwardly, simply hoping her Senior Sister would actually be obedient. She knew the odds of Yun Heng staying tucked away at the sect to recover were at best fifty-fifty. Even that felt like an optimistic stretch.

In the past, her Senior Sister had never broken a promise. But now? Did that fifty percent chance even exist anymore?

Standing beneath the tree, Wen Qiwu allowed Yun Heng to hold her. She understood that her Senior Sister still lacked a sense of reality regarding her return, so she remained quiet and constant by her side.

Forget it, Wen Qiwu thought, her heart softening. If Yun Heng failed to stay put, she wouldn’t have the heart to be truly cruel to her in her current state. At most, she’d just forbid her from touching a single phoenix feather for the next few months.

Perhaps sensing the shift in Wen Qiwu’s mood, Yun Heng’s grip tightened slightly. Wen Qiwu took her hand and pressed it against her own chest, letting her feel the steady, vibrant pulse of her heart.

“I am right here. This isn’t a dream, and I’m not your inner demon.”

Feeling the strong, rhythmic heartbeat beneath her palm, the floaty, ethereal sensation of walking on clouds finally began to anchor into reality for Yun Heng. To be shown hope only to be cast back into despair was a pain far worse than living in a constant darkness. She didn’t think she could survive a second time.

“Ah Que, stay here. Don’t go to the Phoenix Lord’s Tomb, alright?” Yun Heng murmured. She planned to rebuild the sect’s guardian array, turning this place into the safest sanctuary in the Cangwang Realm. Ah Que only needed to stay by her side. As long as she was here, neither the Demon Realm nor the Yaos could ever hurt her.

“I’ll stay and look after you until you’re fully recovered,” Wen Qiwu said, patting her back soothingly, “but only after I return from the Boundless Sea of Trees.”

Why wait until I’m recovered? Yun Heng panicked. Does she mean she’s leaving the moment I’m well?

“Can you just… not go?” Yun Heng whispered. Part of it was the danger of the tomb, but the other part was a selfish wish to stay sick just a little longer. If she got better, would her Junior Sister leave? Her mind began to spiral into dark “what-ifs.”

“It’s not just for your sake,” Wen Qiwu explained. “The tomb might hold clues about my heritage. I have to go.”

While her sister’s health was the priority, mentioning her origins was the one argument Yun Heng couldn’t counter. Wen Qiwu had been picked up by their Master as a babe, left in the wilderness with nothing. Whoever had abandoned her clearly intended for her to die; had their Master not passed by, she would have been prey for wild beasts. If there was a chance to uncover her history, it was only natural she’d want to go.

“Then” Yun Heng started to speak, but a formal announcement interrupted them.

Yun Heng frowned. She had intended to swat away the incoming messenger charm. The paper crane fluttered before her; it was a summons meant for her.

“Lin Shu of the Qianyue Sword Sect requests an audience with the Immortal Empress,” Lin Shu’s voice rang out from the charm.

So, it’s that one from the Sword Sect, Yun Heng realized. She had caused such a massive upheaval trying to resurrect her sister that Lin Shu was bound to come looking for results. If Yun Heng had succeeded, Lin Shu could use the same method for the Saintess of the Yuxi Sect.

But Yun Heng hadn’t succeeded through any ritual; her sister had simply come back on her own. Lin Shu was in for a bitter disappointment.

“What exactly happened with Lin Shu and Zuo Lan?” Wen Qiwu asked softly. “And how did Zuo Lan… fall?”

To Wen Qiwu, time spent inside the phoenix egg had been a blink. It felt like only yesterday that Zuo Lan, that bright and spirited girl, was promising to take her away from the Wushen Sect once the war ended. Now, that girl was gone forever.

“The area she was guarding was hit by a massive, concentrated ambush from the Demon Realm, so…” Yun Heng’s voice trailed off. She felt a profound regret regarding Zuo Lan. Back then, she used to receive frequent scolding letters from the Saintess. Zuo Lan was restrained in person, but in writing, she could fill pages with creative insults. Since those letters were born out of genuine concern for Wen Qiwu, Yun Heng had never held them against her.

After Wen Qiwu’s “death,” Yun Heng had numbly reread those letters, masochistically pouring over Zuo Lan’s “prophecies.” Zuo Lan had written that Yun Heng didn’t understand her own heart and would eventually regret how she treated Ah Que. She was right. Yun Heng had regretted it every single day.

Heaven had been merciful to her, returning her sister. But Lin Shu wouldn’t be so lucky. Even if she destroyed her own cultivation to start over, some people, once missed, are gone forever.

“Ah Que, I took a Soul-Transferring Grass from her before,” Yun Heng confessed, wanting to be transparent. “In exchange, I gave her one of the letters Zuo Lan wrote to me. Just one that focused on her; I haven’t touched the others.”

Wen Qiwu raised an eyebrow. She knew Zuo Lan’s temperament, whenever Lin Shu was involved, her elegance went out the window. That letter was likely a verbal flaying. Giving that to Lin Shu wasn’t just rubbing salt in a wound; it was carving the wound deeper first.

Was Senior Sister doing that on purpose? Wen Qiwu looked up suspiciously, but she only saw her own reflection in Yun Heng’s eyes, as if she were the only thing in her world. Yun Heng looked back with a gaze that was both deeply affectionate and remarkably innocent.

Maybe I’m overthinking it, Wen Qiwu thought. But then she added:

“Well done.”

To put it bluntly, Lin Shu’s current suffering was her own making. Aside from Zuo Lan’s unexpected death in battle, Lin Shu had orchestrated her own misery. Wen Qiwu knew enough of Zuo Lan’s past to know the girl had suffered in silence; Lin Shu deserved to see exactly what Zuo Lan thought of her.

Yun Heng’s eyes lit up at the praise, a look of pure joy surfacing.

“Don’t keep her waiting. See her,” Wen Qiwu said, patting Yun Heng’s hand.

The joy vanished instantly. Yun Heng’s expression soured, her entire posture radiating annoyance. She wanted to be alone with her sister; everyone else was just an obstacle.

“If you don’t see her, she’ll just keep coming back every few days,” Wen Qiwu reasoned. It was true. Lin Shu was desperate, and Wen Qiwu knew that if she were in those shoes, she might have just fought her way up the mountain.

Reluctantly, Yun Heng allowed the visitor up.

The Sword Immortal was in a hurry. The moment permission was granted, she appeared at the summit of Cloud Mist Mountain via a spatial shift.

This was Wen Qiwu’s first time seeing Lin Shu. She was a legendary prodigy, the Guardian of the Qianyue Sword Sect, holding a status arguably higher than the Sect Leader. A century ago, she had destroyed her path to start anew, and in just a hundred years, she had returned to the Golden Immortal realm. Such talent was second only to Yun Heng.

As the sharp-edged woman approached, the corners of Wen Qiwu’s mouth dipped—a subtle sign of displeasure that Yun Heng caught immediately.

Lin Shu had been watched by a literal flock of birds on her way up. The mountain had changed; the raging blizzards were gone, replaced by a vibrant, living landscape. If the weather reflected the master’s heart, did this mean the Immortal Empress had succeeded?

Lin Shu quickened her pace, finding Yun Heng standing with a stranger. It wasn’t the “sister” she expected. Her heart sank, a sense of dread spreading even as she clung to a shred of hope.

After the formal greetings, Yun Heng didn’t mince words. She told her flatly that all the methods she tried had failed.

“That demonic secret art… it can only create a monster with fragments of her soul and memory,” Wen Qiwu interjected, her voice as cold as the mountain’s thin snow. She had studied the ritual while tending to Yun Heng. “You’re a smart person. You should know that doing this is meaningless. It would only deny her soul peace.”

Yun Heng remained silent, watching the light slowly shatter in Lin Shu’s eyes—a reflection of the person she used to be. Lin Shu had come with hope and was leaving with nothing. If even Yun Heng had failed, what chance did she have? Exhaustion washed over her, yet she still stubbornly asked for the demonic scroll.

Yun Heng glanced at Wen Qiwu. Her sister was clearly angry, and having committed similar sins herself, Yun Heng didn’t dare speak up.

“Even knowing it would desecrate Zuo Lan’s soul, you still want to try?” Wen Qiwu asked.

Lin Shu’s expression flickered with a desperate struggle.

“Even if you are willing, Fellow Daoist Zuo would not be. A person as proud as she was would never choose to exist as a hideous monster,” Wen Qiwu continued, her words cutting deep.

“‘We are strangers now. Let us each seek our own path and never look back.’ Those were her words to you. She remembered them until the end; I suggest you remember them too. You are neither kin nor friend to her now; do not interfere with her karma. She said she never wanted to see you again. Please… respect her final wish.”

Wen Qiwu was generally good-natured, but she wasn’t incapable of being harsh. When truly angry, she knew exactly where to twist the knife. She felt for Zuo Lan—her pride had been ground into the dust by Lin Shu in life; she shouldn’t have to be tethered to her as a shell in death.

As Lin Shu’s face turned deathly pale, Yun Heng felt a secret wave of relief. She reached out and squeezed Wen Qiwu’s hand. This contrast showed just how gentle her sister was being with her. Even at her angriest, Wen Qiwu had never spoken to her with such clinical coldness. If she had, Yun Heng wasn’t sure she would have been able to keep standing.

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