Chapter 20:Black wind Stream

Shu Yue’s heart felt as if it had been viciously stabbed, a mix of pain and anger surging within her.

“Qing Wan! You…” She wanted to harshly reprimand her for her reckless audacity, for risking her life, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Qing Wan’s battered state, her dazed yet stubbornly resolute eyes.

All that remained was fear… and heartache.

She immediately channeled pure spiritual energy into Qing Wan’s body, steadily protecting her heart meridians, while carefully feeding her the finest healing pill.

In the midst of extreme exhaustion and searing pain, Qing Wan felt a familiar, icy spiritual energy flood into her. She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids.

Through her blurred vision, she saw that unforgettable, coldly beautiful face, now etched with urgent concern.

Was it… Senior Sister?

No, it was the Elder.

Why was she here?

To save her?

Or… to mock her failure?

A wave of overwhelming grievance surged within her. She tried to speak but coughed up a mouthful of congealed blood, her consciousness slipping into darkness.

In her final moment of awareness, her hand instinctively clutched Shu Yue’s robe at her chest, as if grasping her last lifeline.

Shu Yue, holding the unconscious, bloodied, impossibly light figure in her arms, felt Qing Wan’s faint breaths and the hand gripping her robe. Her body stiffened, her heart tightening painfully.

“How did she get so injured…”

Carefully cradling Qing Wan, she didn’t spare a glance at the demon wolves lying defeated around them. With a flash of sword light, she vanished from the valley.

Back at Jinghong Hall, Shu Yue gently placed Qing Wan on her own cloud bed.

She didn’t even pause to question why she’d brought her to her personal chambers.

With clumsy movements, she tore open Qing Wan’s blood-soaked clothes. Seeing the gruesome wounds, her fingers trembled slightly.

“So many injuries… how much pain she must have endured…”

Taking out her best healing salves, Shu Yue held her breath, meticulously cleaning, applying medicine, and bandaging each wound.

Throughout the process, her face remained taut, paler even than the unconscious Qing Wan.

When the wounds were fully treated, Shu Yue exhaled in relief, realizing her back was damp with cold sweat.

Sitting by the bed, she gazed at Qing Wan’s furrowed brow and colorless lips, her heart a tangled mix of emotions.

If she hadn’t pushed her away, hadn’t been so coldly dismissive, perhaps this girl wouldn’t have resorted to such near-self-destructive measures to prove something, to vent something.

“Did I… make a mistake?”

At that moment, Wan Qing’s gentle voice came from outside the hall. “Elder Luyue, Wan Qing has composed a new piece beneficial to mental cultivation and wishes to…”

Her words stopped abruptly as she stepped into the hall.

She froze at the sight: the ever-aloof Luyue Fairy sitting by the bed, her robe stained with blood, and the heavily bandaged, unconscious sword-serving disciple lying on the cloud bed.

The Elder’s gaze on the girl… was it a complex mix of unmasked worry?

Wan Qing instantly understood something. Tactfully, she didn’t pry, saying softly, “It seems inconvenient now. Wan Qing will visit another day.”

Her eyes flicked over Qing Wan’s pale face and Shu Yue’s blood-stained robe, a glint of curiosity flashing deep within.

Shu Yue snapped back to herself, reining in her exposed emotions and resuming her icy demeanor. “Mm.”

Wan Qing smiled faintly, bowed, and left.

As she turned, her smile faded slightly.

“So that’s it… the crux of Jinghong Peak lies here.”

“This Elder Luyue is quite the enigma—cold-faced but warm-hearted, saying one thing but meaning another.”

No sooner had Wan Qing left than Chu Yi arrived, his face full of worry. “Master! How is Junior Sister Qing Wan?”

Shu Yue looked at Chu Yi’s genuine concern, and a strange discomfort stirred within her, contrasting with her earlier manipulation of him.

‘The male lead is the male lead—his concern is sincere…’

Her tone softened slightly. “No danger to her life. She needs rest.”

Chu Yi sighed in relief. “That’s good! Junior Sister was too reckless! Master, you…” He hesitated, noting the blood on Shu Yue’s robe and her faintly weary expression.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Shu Yue brushed it off. “It’s fine.”

“Go back to your cultivation.”

Chu Yi obeyed and left.

The hall fell silent once more.

Shu Yue gazed at the sleeping Qing Wan, at the hand still clutching her robe’s hem, and sighed.

“Well, great… I didn’t push her away—I saved her and brought her to my bed. Now we’re even more entangled!”

She tried gently prying Qing Wan’s hand free, but the small hand gripped with desperate strength, as if it held her last ounce of will.

After a few attempts, Shu Yue gave up.

Resigned, she sat by the bed, watching Qing Wan’s peaceful sleeping face, her emotions impossibly complex.

Keeping her distance? It seemed… utterly failed.

Not only failed, but… spectacularly backfired.