Chapter 04: The Last Night

The Medicine and the Foot

Fang Xiyu’s pain slowly faded away.

At first, that agony—like ten thousand needles piercing her heart—had blurred her consciousness.

In the midst of it, she even forgot her own existence, left with nothing but endless torment.

She clung to survival through sheer will, but every second made her want to faint and never wake.

Yet now, the pain scattered like startled birds, leaving her body.

In its place came a warm sensation from beneath her ankles.

She slowly opened her eyes.

Gu Chi was now sitting on a moved bluestone.

Her two calves beneath her skirt hung in mid-air.

A porcelain bowl nearby held clear, transparent liquid.

Gu Chi’s hand rested on her fair jade foot, patiently applying the medicine with his fingertips, evenly spreading it.

He used spiritual energy to open her acupoints, aiding absorption.

It was this medicine that drove away her pain, gradually warming her once-icy body.

Her delicate jade feet, previously stiff like ice sculptures—hard as porcelain—now softened.

The snow-white soles turned pinkish-white, her toes growing ever more crystalline and tender.

Her eyes first showed shock, then shame and anger.

She tried to struggle but was powerless.

“For the rest, find a fifteen-year-old Blazing Fire Flower, a Fire Phoenix Fruit, and a century-old Snow Snake Vine.

Have a Heaven-tier alchemist refine it into spiritual liquid and soak for a day and night.”

“I know you won’t say thanks, and I don’t need it.

But you can take this as my pity for you.”

“I don’t need your pity!”

She gritted her teeth.

“I know.”

Gu Chi pressed hard on the center of her sole.

“Just thought your ankles looked nice—wanted to touch them while I was at it.”

Fang Xiyu’s eyes turned murderous again.

Even straining, her flying sword—still embedded in the wall—could only buzz faintly, powerless.

“The medicine needs spiritual energy to absorb.

I’ve opened all your acupoints.

This will repair half your flawed Ice Vein Spiritual Root.

Best focus your current spiritual energy on absorbing it fully, not on killing me—you’ll fail.

You can gamble again, but if you lose this time, I won’t be so merciful.”

Fang Xiyu stopped struggling and began circulating spiritual energy to absorb the medicine.

During the process, Gu Chi kept kneading her delicate jade feet beneath her ankles.

The medicine was already evenly applied; he used his spiritual energy to help absorption.

It lasted about the time of one incense stick.

Afterward, the girl’s powder-soft, jade-smooth little feet glistened with the transparent liquid, like tempting jelly.

Under the campfire, they shimmered like crystal—clear and translucent.

Gu Chi stood, took a handkerchief to wipe the medicine from his hands, then washed them in the natural spring pool nearby.

He continued.

“Full absorption takes a day—key to reshaping your Ice Vein Spiritual Root.

I don’t want to open my eyes tomorrow to another flying sword.

If I do, I’ll hang you up and whip you.”

With that, he closed his eyes to rest.

The Broken Rope and the Whip

Facts prove it.

People never learn from past experiences.

When Gu Chi opened his eyes, Fang Xiyu stood before him.

The ropes that bound her now lay on the ground.

She had clearly exerted immense effort to break free—her clothes torn in places, fair thighs faintly visible beneath her skirt.

Her waist and ribs showed piled snow-white skin, faint red marks still lingering.

The sword once in the cave wall was now summoned, gripped tightly in her hand.

Spiritual energy in the cave began circulating.

The cyclone in her body spun madly.

Her pupils released sword intent.

Bone-chilling cold instantly enveloped the cave.

Her sword was named Cold Star—a high-grade Earth-tier spirit sword.

A birthday gift at fifteen.

Even some sect elders lacked such a weapon.

Mid-Core Formation cultivation.

Her spiritual core spun, energy flooding limbs and bones, granting thousand-pound strength.

The instant her toes touched ground, cracks spiderwebbed across the cave floor.

One sword—just one—and she could wash away two days of humiliation!

Just one!

Her sword edge neared the resting Qingmian.

In her mind, she already saw it piercing his chest.

A surge of exhilaration rose—days of frustration swept away.

All pain would end; her sword intent was about to break through to the next level!

Until a brutal kick to her abdomen.

That was her thought.

Gu Chi opened his eyes, sighing helplessly.

As the sword neared, he lifted his leg and kicked Fang Xiyu flying.

Her body soared backward, smashing a large pit into the cave wall.

Blood trickled from her mouth.

“I hit you with a sap to avoid noise and trouble—not because I couldn’t beat you.

Stop messing around.”

Gu Chi casually formed a seal.

The Immortal-Binding Rope she escaped from now flew toward her again, rebinding the weakened girl.

This time, it was longer—one end tied to her flying sword’s hilt.

Gu Chi approached, seized her sword, and threw it.

It easily pierced the cave ceiling’s bluestone, stuck there.

The rope contracted.

Fang Xiyu was left hanging in mid-air.

Her snow-white wrists bound together with the suspended flying sword—like hung cured meat.

Gu Chi looked into her eyes—filled with disbelief and despair.

“I told you the price of losing the bet last night.”

A long whip wrapped in snakeskin appeared in his hand.

“I’ll whip until you scream wildly.”

He sneered.

The whip cracked through the air.

The Rain and the Last Words

“Stubborn bones.”

After a few lashes, Gu Chi lost interest.

He knew no matter what, Fang Xiyu wouldn’t scream.

But her hatred now likely craved his flesh and blood.

Before him, Fang Xiyu’s clothes hung in tatters, large expanses of snow-smooth fragrant skin exposed.

His whip bore bloodstains.

He had warned her—why not believe?

Beyond helplessness, Gu Chi felt nothing.

He lowered her.

She lay on the ground, no venomous glare left.

Just closed eyes and tears—utterly fragile and pitiful.

She was the sect’s heaven’s pride, Moon Wheel Sect’s first heir, doted on by all—anything she wanted within reach.

Now she sprawled wretchedly, like a dog whipped for trying to bite its master.

Gu Chi took two healing pills from her storage ring earlier, placed them by her head, and unbound her ropes.

“I’m stepping out—back by dark.

Not far.

Change clothes first.

Best not try running.”

With that, he left the cave.

He even tugged the vines outside to better cover the entrance light.

Beyond was a waterfall, fish in the stream.

He sat by the water, took out a fishing rod, and began angling.

Stepping out was because staying might drive Fang Xiyu mad with rage.

Leaving gave her space to lick her wounds.

Not pity—Gu Chi didn’t want her insane.

He had some ties with the previously kidnapped Fire Phoenix Saintess.

Though she envied Fang Xiyu to madness, there was genuine friendship too.

So Gu Chi couldn’t fathom women’s strange bonds.

But he guessed the heartless Fire Phoenix Saintess hated her more.

Women were the world’s most inscrutable creatures.

Thus, he never understood his partner’s daily thoughts.

With her talent, joining any Eastern Domain sect would easily land her a saintess seat.

Yet she loved tagging along, doing evil, playing the world.

One slip could mean death without burial—yet she reveled in it.

But it made sense.

He and such a madwoman together—birds of a feather, match made in heaven.

Night fell with rain.

Gu Chi pushed aside the cave vines and returned.

Fang Xiyu now wore a light purple long skirt, hem to her ankles.

Her fair little feet beneath were wrapped in Evil-Repelling Ice Silk white socks—slightly transparent, making them hazy like flowers in mist.

Her face no longer pale, red marks fading with spiritual energy.

She sat quietly, like a summer pink lotus—elegant and pure, though her eyes seemed lost.

“As long as your mother doesn’t play tricks or hunt my partner, you leave at noon tomorrow.”

Gu Chi thought, then added.

“What happened in the cave stays unknown to outsiders.

If your mother is sensible and keeps it secret, your reputation needn’t suffer.”

“Reputation?”

A bitter expression crossed Fang Xiyu’s face.

“Do I still have any?”

“Think of it as a nightmare.”

Gu Chi replied casually.

“The Fire Phoenix Saintess only got gossiped about because she loudly proclaimed her kidnapping.

As her friend, you know why.

She self-defiled to escape her father’s arranged marriage.

I never touched her—that b*tch just splashes dirt on me.

I’m not interested in women like her.”

“You like men?”

Gu Chi’s gaze turned odd—why that leap?

But her dao heart seemed steadier, so he answered nonchalantly.

“The voice you hear isn’t my real one.

I master shape-shifting arts, heh.

I might not even be a man.”

Fang Xiyu froze.

A chill ran through her…

For years, major sects hunted Qingmian.

Yet no one ever considered—under the mask… why not a woman?

“Back then, I stepped in seeing that female cultivator humiliated.

Us female cultivators help each other—get it, sister?”

Gu Chi leaned on the bluestone.

“Tonight’s the last.

No more ropes—you can sleep well.

But don’t think of running…

Or I’ll really strip you, record it properly with a shadow stone.

No need for high price—just copy a hundred or two and scatter them in the secret realm.”