Chapter 13: I don’t know I am just a guest in the deep clouds, I mistake the floating light for a lamp
Upon entering the Qingyun Secret Realm, all participants were teleported to random locations.
No amount of preparation could control the final landing spot.
For many, this randomness meant uncertainty—and danger.
Fortunately, Su Wan’er’s landing point wasn’t far from Luo Jiutian’s.
Whether by chance or fate’s design, no one knew.
After reuniting, they wasted no time, quickly exploring the nearby terrain.
Though Su Wan’er often complained about boredom or wanting to slack off, whenever Luo Jiutian acted, she’d stand quietly, watching, occasionally whispering warnings about threats behind him.
They crossed flower-strewn hills and mist-shrouded forests.
When they encountered other clans’ members, most kept their distance, unwilling to act rashly so early in the secret realm.
They faced dangers along the way, and Su Wan’er didn’t rely solely on him.
Her moves were clean and efficient—not ruthless, but never sloppy.
Despite grumbling about the realm’s bad food and rough terrain, she kept pace with Luo Jiutian, never falling behind.
As time passed, her攻略值 (affection/strategy value) steadily climbed.
Traveling together, fighting side by side, sitting by campfires at night eating roasted meat he handed her—she spoke more than usual, often rambling with cryptic dream-talk he couldn’t decipher.
Soon, the system’s prompt sounded:
[Ding! Congratulations, Host, for raising ‘Su Wan’er’s’攻略值 to 90!]
Progress was fast, but just like last time, it stalled.
No matter what he did, the value wouldn’t budge.
He’d said everything he could.
Done everything he should.
Yet the攻略值 remained stuck.
Luo Jiutian wasn’t discouraged.
This wasn’t new to him.
An opportunity would come.
Days later, they found a ruin in a remote mountain hollow.
Its entrance was crescent-shaped, with faint, ancient patterns etched on the broken stone door—jagged lines, like a maw devouring all.
A faint smell of blood lingered in the air, distinct from other ruins.
They stopped in their tracks.
Luo Jiutian stepped forward, studying the door’s patterns, then pulled a jade slip from his storage bag, comparing it carefully.
After about fifteen minutes, he tucked the slip away and briefly shared the ruin’s details with Su Wan’er.
According to records, deep within lay an ancient treasure: the Disaster-Severing Stone.
Unassuming, a dark, cracked stone with an eerie aura.
But when infused with spiritual energy, it could absorb poisons, curses, and other impurities, far surpassing ordinary antidotes.
Thus, many sects and clans prized it as a life-saving treasure, used to resolve incurable afflictions.
Its only flaw: it could only be used three times before shattering into dust, useless.
Luo Jiutian thought of someone.
Su Wan’er’s foster mother, Wang Ruolan.
A dignified, gentle woman, once a renowned cultivator in Tianyuan Kingdom.
When Su Wan’er was barely a year old, her birth mother passed away.
Since then, Wang Ruolan raised her as her own.
But later, during an outing, she was cursed, blinded, and her cultivation halted forever.
Luo Jiutian sighed softly.
He lowered his gaze, about to look away, when he caught Su Wan’er staring at him.
Gone was her usual liveliness; she stood quietly, her eyes pleading.
She knew the Disaster-Severing Stone could heal Wang Ruolan.
Luo Jiutian’s heart stirred.
This might be the chance to break the攻略值 bottleneck.
So, he led Su Wan’er into the ruin.
Unlike expected, they faced no obstacles inside.
The entrance’s arrays had long failed, the wall mechanisms rusted and broken, the long corridor empty and smooth.
They moved forward, their footsteps echoing.
This should’ve been good, but Luo Jiutian stayed cautious, his divine sense scanning every corner.
Su Wan’er noticed his slowed pace, glanced at him, asked nothing, and simply stayed closer.
They pressed deeper into the ruin.
At the corridor’s end, a wide stone chamber appeared.
On a central platform floated a pitch-black stone.
Small, irregularly rhomboid, its surface crisscrossed with fine cracks, its outline shifting, faint black mist swirling within.
Su Wan’er’s eyes lit up, but as she stepped forward, Luo Jiutian blocked her.
“Something’s wrong,” he said, warily scanning the room, unease rising.
Suddenly, the shadows beneath the platform writhed, silently forming a mass of dark mist.
The mist thickened, shaping a massive beast’s head—sunken eyes, bony horns, fangs filling its maw, each movement causing faint air bursts.
The beast’s head lunged without warning.
Luo Jiutian drew his sword instinctively, spiritual energy surging into the blade, slashing forward.
The sword light cut through, aimed straight ahead.
But with a hiss, before it reached, the shadow twisted, dodging effortlessly, speeding toward Su Wan’er.
“Get back!”
Luo Jiutian roared, darting to intercept, but he was a step too slow.
In a flash, he threw himself in front of her, his sword slashing to meet the blow.
A deafening clash rang out. Luo Jiutian grunted, thrown back several steps, his chest robes torn, blood spraying.
“Brother Jiutian!”
Su Wan’er rushed to support him.
She wasn’t unscathed—her arm bore a bloody gash, her face pale.
Luo Jiutian suppressed his churning blood, gripping his sword with one hand, pointing to the platform with the other.
“Don’t worry about me… grab it,” he rasped. “No time.”
Su Wan’er turned, seeing the Disaster-Severing Stone’s cracks growing clearer, on the verge of collapse.
“If you don’t go now, it’ll be destroyed,” he urged hoarsely.
She froze, torn.
Rushing to the platform might secure the stone, giving Wang Ruolan a chance at recovery.
But the shadow loomed, and Luo Jiutian was badly hurt.
Another hit… he likely wouldn’t survive.
“Go!” he shouted. “I can hold it!”
Bloodied and unsteady, he stood firm, refusing to fall.
The stone’s aura weakened, its cracks glaring.
As he urged her again, a shadow shot from the wall, aiming for him.
Before he could speak, the beast’s head lunged.
In that instant, Su Wan’er moved.
She spun, sword flashing with surging energy, striking the shadow with a muffled boom.
It didn’t do real damage but bought time.
Crouching, she hoisted Luo Jiutian onto her back.
Blood soaked her shoulder, its warmth seeping through her clothes, but she didn’t pause.
“Wan’er, you—”
He tried to speak, but seeing her resolute gaze, he swallowed his words.
Su Wan’er took a deep breath, carrying him, sprinting toward the chamber’s exit.
The beast’s roars echoed behind, its pressure overwhelming.
She gritted her teeth, never slowing.
But the return path was longer than expected.
And somehow, the ruin’s rusted mechanisms had reactivated.
Traps sprang up—collapsing tiles, flipping floors, chasms opening beneath them.
Luo Jiutian called out directions, guiding her escape, averting dangers.
Yet the traps slowed them.
The roars grew louder, the shadow closing in.
Su Wan’er’s breathing grew ragged, her steps faltering, nearly falling.
The stone door appeared at the corridor’s end.
But then, the final trap triggered—a cascade of falling stones shook the passage.
Her spiritual energy and stamina drained, her legs gave out, knees slamming into the ground.
As rocks fell, she instinctively shielded Luo Jiutian, but he pulled her into his arms.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
His spiritual energy surged, a blazing force erupting from his dantian.
Without hesitation, he burned his vital blood, forcing out his last strength.
His aura spiked, the ground beneath cracking, robes billowing.
Holding Su Wan’er, he darted through the falling stones.
His movements were swift, each step landing on collapsing tiles, his sword cleaving falling rocks.
The strain of burning vital blood tore at him, blood trickling from his mouth, staining her clothes.
In his arms, Su Wan’er felt his unsteady breathing, her heart racing, fingers clutching his robes.
Finally, a sliver of light appeared at the passage’s end.
Luo Jiutian didn’t hesitate, forcing his remaining energy to surge, boosting his speed.
Holding her, he ducked under the last stone blocking the door, and they burst out.
Fresh air hit, mixed with forest scents, distant insect chirps clear.
A boom sounded behind as the door collapsed, dust billowing, blocking the sky.
Thankfully, the beast’s shadow didn’t follow.
Luo Jiutian staggered, his chest feeling crushed, breathing labored.
He managed a few steps, gently setting Su Wan’er down.
As he did, his body gave out, collapsing, unable to rise.
Su Wan’er gasped, rushing to his side, kneeling, calling frantically: “Brother Jiutian? Are you awake? Don’t scare me!”
He didn’t respond, his breathing faint, eyelids too heavy to lift.
“It’s my fault… all my fault…” Her voice trembled, tears streaming. “If not for me, you wouldn’t be hurt… I shouldn’t have been stubborn, shouldn’t have insisted on coming…”
She apologized endlessly, tears falling, soaking into the blood on his chest.
“Brother Jiutian… I won’t be reckless again. Please wake up, okay…”
“Quit mourning, I’m not dead.”
His hoarse voice carried a hint of exasperation.
Su Wan’er froze, then laughed through her tears, collapsing beside him: “You didn’t speak, I thought you were really…”
He struggled to lift his hand, thumb brushing away her tears.
“Enough,” he said, looking at her. “Crying like this isn’t pretty.”
She pouted: “I wasn’t… You scared me.”
“Scared you? Your shouting nearly deafened me.”
Ignoring his jab, she straightened his collar, whispering: “Next time, I’m really done with you.”
Seeing her red-eyed stubbornness, he shook his head.
He admitted, blocking that shadow’s attack in the chamber was partly an act.
He’d hoped to use the ‘suspension bridge effect’ to break the攻略值 bottleneck.
But when the blow landed, he knew—
He’d overplayed it.
The shadow’s strength far exceeded expectations—not a mere remnant or projection. It nearly ended him.
The piercing pain lingered, his chest still burning.
But it was over.
Outside the ruin, night fell.
The forest was deep, the wind carrying blood and earthy scents.
Luo Jiutian leaned against a tree, Su Wan’er carefully bandaging his wounds.
Her touch was feather-light.
Each wrap, she glanced to check if he winced.
She was truly afraid of hurting him.
“Brother Jiutian…” she called softly. “Don’t do something this foolish for me again, okay?”
He chuckled, ruffling her hair.
She didn’t pull away, just looked up at him.
“Okay, not again.”
He wanted to hug her but, covered in blood, only squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back, part response, part pout.
Looking at her, his heart stirred inexplicably.
He knew this was a simulation.
Her every word, every reaction, might just be programmed for the task, like always.
But in that moment, he wasn’t sure.
Reality hit hard.
When he saw the system’s display, he couldn’t believe it.
The number was more jarring than any mockery.