Chapter 53: Drunk

Qing Wan’s small courtyard was bathed in moonlight, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the faint, uneven breathing of the drunken figure in her arms. Cheng Mo, her face flushed and hair disheveled, clung to Qing Wan’s robes, her body warm and defenseless. Qing Wan’s steps were steady but heavy, each one a battle against the storm in her chest. This is absurd. Her Silent Annihilation Sword Intent pulsed restlessly, urging her to push Shu Yue away, but her arms tightened instead. No one else can see her like this. The thought, laced with a possessive edge, startled her.

She eased Shu Yue onto a low wooden bench in her courtyard, her hands lingering as she adjusted the elder’s position. Shu Yue mumbled incoherently, her head lolling against Qing Wan’s shoulder, her breath warm against her neck. “Little Wan’er…” she slurred, a sleepy smile curving her lips. Qing Wan froze, the old nickname slicing through her defenses. Her Foundation Building Late Stage aura flared, then steadied, the curse’s remnants quiet but watchful. She doesn’t get to do this. Yet she couldn’t pull away, her fingers brushing Shu Yue’s tangled hair, smoothing it gently.

Inside the sect, Wan Qing sat in her quarters, her zither silent. Her divine sense had caught the faint ripple of Shu Yue’s spiritual energy veering toward Qing Wan’s courtyard. Drunk? Her lips curved, a mix of amusement and opportunity. Luyue’s guard is down. She sent a coded message to her ally, Liu Qingxu: “The elder’s vulnerable. The trials are our chance.” Liu Qingxu’s response was swift: “Her recklessness in the gorge will be her end. Prepare for the council.” Wan Qing’s smile deepened. I’ll bind you yet, Luyue.

At Jinghong Peak’s main hall, Chu Yi reported to Elder Yuheng, his expression grim. “Master’s strength in Blackwind Gorge exposed her. Liu Qingxu’s spies are circling.” Yuheng’s eyes narrowed, her Golden Core aura steady. “The talisman you found proves Liu Qingxu’s treachery. The sect master’s listening, but the council’s divided.” Chu Yi glanced toward Qing Wan’s courtyard, worry etching his face. “Sunny Sister’s with Master. She’s… not herself.” Lin Xiaoxi, nearby, clutched her wooden sword. “Teacher’s okay, right? Second Sister will help her!” Yuheng sighed. “Let’s hope.”

In the courtyard, Qing Wan knelt beside Shu Yue, her hands trembling as she channeled a thin stream of spiritual energy to clear the alcohol’s haze. She’s a mess. The Mazixian Yin’s potency lingered, but Shu Yue’s Golden Core cultivation resisted, her aura stabilizing slightly. Qing Wan’s touch was clinical, but her eyes betrayed her, lingering on Shu Yue’s softened features. She looks… human. Memories of their early days—Shu Yue’s quiet guidance, her rare smiles—clashed with the pain of abandonment. Why did you leave me?

Shu Yue stirred, her eyes fluttering open, still hazy. “Qing Wan…” she murmured, her voice raw. “I’m sorry… didn’t mean to hurt you.” Qing Wan’s breath hitched, her sword intent wavering. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean it. But the sincerity in Shu Yue’s voice pierced her, and she leaned closer, her voice low. “You don’t get to apologize like this.” Shu Yue’s hand reached out, clumsy but earnest, grasping Qing Wan’s sleeve. “I’ll fix it… promise…” Her eyes closed again, her grip loosening as sleep reclaimed her.

Qing Wan’s heart pounded, torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. I hate you. But her hand stayed, resting against Shu Yue’s cheek, cool against her fevered skin. The curse’s whispers were silent, drowned by the warmth of this moment. Just tonight. She stood, lifting Shu Yue with care, and carried her to the small bed in her room, tucking her in with a gentleness she hadn’t felt in years. No one else sees this.

At dawn, Shu Yue woke with a groan, her head throbbing. What… happened? The unfamiliar room, Qing Wan’s scent on the blankets, and the faint ache in her wrist snapped her awake. Oh no. I got drunk?! Her divine sense swept the courtyard, finding Qing Wan practicing sword forms outside, her movements sharp but distracted. Shu Yue’s heart sank. Did I mess up again? The second curse pulsed faintly, unnoticed, as she stumbled out, her voice hesitant. “Qing Wan… about last night—”

Qing Wan’s sword paused, her eyes cold but softer than before. “You were drunk. It’s nothing.” Her tone was clipped, but her gaze lingered, a flicker of warmth buried deep. Shu Yue swallowed, her survival instincts screaming to flee, but she stayed. “I meant what I said. I want to fix us.” Qing Wan turned away, her voice barely audible. “Prove it at the trials.” The council’s summons loomed, and Liu Qingxu’s third curse waited, ready t

o strike.