As Yan Huirou fell into endless darkness, she had a dream. She dreamt again of the years before she wrote Jiang Xidai. A feeling of weightlessness came again and again, in bursts, making her dizzy. What brought her comfort was a faint, indistinct dark fragrance that always lingered around her nose.
The scent bloomed like ink on water, then faded without a trace into the void. Yan Huirou reached out, trying to hold onto something—but it was useless.
The antique fragrance was replaced by the pungent smell of disinfectant. This smell was very familiar to Yan Huirou, making her stomach clench subconsciously, a tight, uncomfortable feeling.
Jiang Xidai…
No, she couldn’t bear it.
She couldn’t let her go.
But her eyelids seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. She wanted to struggle, to open her eyes, but she felt an invisible wall before her. Yan Huirou crashed into it like a moth to a flame.
A strong light pierced the darkness.
Her hearing gradually returned.
Rustling…
The beeping of instruments, the sound of footsteps, a low conversation.
Yan Huirou lifted her eyelids and looked, but the scene she saw filled her with despair. A pristine white ceiling replaced the red-wood roof, its simple, streamlined design no longer matching the familiar, complex, and luxurious patterns of her memory.
In her limited vision, a familiar face approached.
“You’re awake?”
A hand waved in front of her. The woman wore a uniform, her hands carefully gloved, her brows tightly furrowed. Yan Huirou recognized her; she was also a superior, probably in charge of the Medical Department.
“Any memory gaps?” the woman asked. “Do you remember who I am?”
Cheng Guanying.
Yan Huirou couldn’t speak. She nodded with difficulty and slowness, the last bit of strength in her clenched fist trembling, then slowly releasing as if deflating.
She was really… back.
“Looks like you’re recovering quite well. Get some more rest.” The woman stood up, her voice moving away from Yan Huirou. Yan Huirou saw her speaking to someone beside her, but what they were saying, her strength gradually faded again, and she couldn’t hear clearly.
After a brief moment of lucidity, Yan Huirou fell unconscious again. Her body was too weak. Cheng Guanying was reading a report. She glanced back at her, and her furrowed brow gradually relaxed.
In any case, it was good that her life wasn’t lost. This girl usually looked so gentle and refined, but her temperament was really reckless. She probably would have never wanted to stop on her own. It was a good thing they had seized the opportunity to bring her back.
On the other side, after finishing work, Chen Cha’an went home for a rare visit, slept for a whole day, had a good meal, and then played games in a daze for two days. The holiday was good, but without Yan Huirou to hang out with, she felt restless all over. It’s over, it’s over, I’m really addicted to work now.
Fortunately, the holiday ended, and she could go and check on Jiang Xidai’s situation, or observe Yan Huirou’s. She spat out a lollipop stick, watching it fly gracefully into the trash can. Then she sat up, got ready, and prepared to go out.
Just as she stepped into the research center, Chen Cha’an heard good news. Yan Huirou had woken up—partially. Due to her physical weakness, she had quickly fallen asleep again. But this also meant she was out of danger.
Chen Cha’an happily went to the Medical Department and glanced at her from a distance. Yan Huirou was no longer submerged in the liquid, finally lying properly on a hospital bed. But the situation was still a bit pitiful, specifically the various instruments connected to her body, making her almost immobile.
“Please get better quickly…”
In Qionghua Hall, the red gauze hung down, its shadows swaying. Jiang Xidai sat cross-legged at the highest point, eyes closed in meditation.
Hearing footsteps, the woman’s eyelids lifted slightly. “What is it.”
“This batch of surrendering disciples has been properly arranged. I am here to report to you,” Wen Xianyin bowed, her hands raised in a salute.
“Next time, there’s no need to come and inform me of such small matters,” the woman lowered her eyes again. “Lest you disturb this Seat’s cultivation.”
“Cultivation is good,” Wen Xianyin gently advised, “but you shouldn’t tire yourself out too much. Apart from battles, it’s just cultivation…” Apart from this one year, Senior Disciple Wen had never seen this old ancestor look so diligent; it was quite unsettling.
“Mmm.” Jiang Xidai was noncommittal. “Have Alano and the others returned?”
Wen Xianyin: “Yes, they won. They took down another Immortal Sect. Does the Sect Master need a celebration banquet?”
“No need.” Jiang Xidai: “Why waste time on such things.”
“The jewels the Sect Master loves,” Wen Xianyin suggested again, “this disciple has also ordered a batch of top-quality ones. I hear it’s a rare blood jade…”
“Reward them with it.” Jiang Xidai drew her “A Ten-foot Soft Red,” took out a piece of soft silk, and gently wiped it, holding it vertically. The pale red blade reflected half of the woman’s stunningly beautiful face. Recently, this precious sword had drunk its fill of blood, its brilliance becoming more and more dazzling.
Wen Xianyin swallowed. She carefully glanced at Jiang Xidai, feeling that the baleful aura of this blood sword was growing heavier. Not just that, but the Sect Master herself was the same. Every time she defeated an enemy, Jiang Xidai didn’t kill them all, but instead, contrary to her usual practice, let them live.
And there were always those who endured humiliation, trying to rebel against her. She would then smile and pick them out. Either they would be disposed of to become fertilizer for the entire maple forest, or chopped up to feed the dogs.
After wiping the blade, Jiang Xidai was silent for a long while. “I am a little tired… This Seat will go for a walk. If you have anything else to say, follow me.” She stood up, holding a very thick silver chain, its end split into four, tied to four majestic large dogs.
The few black dogs now lying at her feet had completely grown up. The Sect Master fed them with spiritual pills and fresh flesh and blood, and each of them was huge and unusually fierce. Seeing their master about to go out, they stood up obediently, crowding around Jiang Xidai’s skirt, creating an extremely oppressive feeling.
Wen Xianyin quickly took a small step back, away from those things.
She remembered when Miss Yan was still here, these few were raised to be rather goofy. Since the Sect Master took over, they had turned into fierce beasts amidst blood and slaughter. Just a few days ago, that master of the Shenji Pavilion was captured. He was clearly very obedient and submissive, but…
Wen Xianyin still remembered how they tore that old man apart, right in Qionghua Hall. The scene was nothing short of tragic. Even Alano, who was used to eating human flesh, couldn’t bear to watch. And Jiang Xidai, from beginning to end, just curved her eyes and looked indifferent, finally saying, “Interesting. So this is what it’s like for dogs to eat people.”
“Interesting” was the entire reason she did such things. The Sect Master, though not kind before, usually had a reason for her actions. Now, her temperament was becoming more and more unpredictable—regardless of whether the other party angered her, regardless of whether they were disciples of her sect. Even Wen Xianyin, who had been with her for so many years, couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat.
So she dared not say more, only daring to silently follow Jiang Xidai, keeping her words as concise as possible. “Sect Master, the Shenji Pavilion has a new master. When shall we take down the Shenji Pavilion? This disciple can make arrangements early.”
“So eager?” Jiang Xidai’s eyes lifted slightly, but they were still devoid of warmth. She said softly, “Let’s see. Whichever day I’m in a good mood, tomorrow or the day after, I’ll go.”
“Yes.”
Having received her orders, Wen Xianyin immediately and cautiously took her leave.
Jiang Xidai was strolling in the Shasheng Sect when she saw Alano walking briskly towards her. That impolite person, with streaks of blood still on her cheek, seemed to have just returned from outside. She sheathed her scimitar, and upon seeing Jiang Xidai, the smile on her face paused, then immediately became respectful. “Yo, you’re out for a walk.”
If Alano had once had any ideas of fawning on her superior, they had now completely vanished. What remained was mostly awe. Because in these years, she had witnessed Jiang Xidai’s methods, and was quite terrified, instinctively feeling she couldn’t get away from Jiang Xidai unscathed. It was better to keep things as they were.
Jiang Xidai looked straight ahead, walking past her as if she were nothing, as if she didn’t exist.
“…” Alano was still smiling. After all, she was used to it and didn’t complain. No worries about cultivation, endless glory, spiritual pills and miraculous medicines to eat her fill, and just by mentioning Jiang Xidai’s name, she could scare others into kneeling and begging for mercy—with all this, even being kicked by that woman a couple of times a day was happiness.
Alano just secretly glanced at Jiang Xidai’s destination and tutted softly: Not good. Going to Yan Huirou’s place again?
After all these years, Jiang Xidai still liked to talk to a corpse, to smile at a corpse, as if she would never get tired of it.
