Bai Qingxue emerged from the cave and headed back the way she came.
With the Ice Ganoderma in hand, and a good number of monster cores and spirit stones collected, this mission was now successfully completed.
Bai Qingxue didn't walk quickly on her return, her spiritual sense still spread out, attentive to her surroundings.
After all, monster beasts were frequent in the depths of the Luoyun Mountain Range, and she didn't want any unexpected trouble now.
As she crossed the first mountain ridge, Bai Qingxue heard sounds of fighting.
It wasn't a clash between monster beasts, but human cries for help, mixed with monster roars, coming from the forest below the mountain path.
The sounds were intermittent, somewhat muffled by the wind.
But the voice was familiar—it was Ye Qingyao.
Bai Qingxue paused.
The mission was complete, and her spiritual power hadn't fully recovered. It seemed that ignoring it would be the correct choice, as it was better to avoid unnecessary trouble.
Yet, the voice carried fear, one cry after another, as if being chased by something it couldn't shake off.
Bai Qingxue suddenly remembered the Cold Iron Stone.
She hadn't returned the item Ye Qingyao had given her.
And Bai Qingxue disliked owing favors, no matter how small.
Immediately, Bai Qingxue turned and hurried towards the source of the sound.
The forest she passed through was dense, with intertwining vines. Bai Qingxue drew her sword, cutting through the obstructing branches, almost half-running through a thicket.
As the sounds of fighting drew closer, the monster roars mixed with Ye Qingyao's gasps became increasingly clear.
Bai Qingxue burst out of a thicket of low trees, witnessing a scene that made her frown slightly.
Ye Qingyao was leaning against a large tree, the pant leg of her left leg torn, revealing a bloody wound from which blood dripped down her calf.
In her right hand, she gripped a short sword stained with blood. Before her was a massive, greenish-gray monster, a wind wolf at the fifth level of Qi Refining.
The wind wolf was crouched low, baring its teeth, its crimson eyes fixed on Ye Qingyao, ready to pounce at any moment.
Ye Qingyao's legs were trembling.
She bit her lip, clutching her short sword, staring intently at the wolf, seemingly prepared for a desperate struggle.
Just then, the wind wolf lunged...
A flash of sword light suddenly cleaved in from the side.
Bai Qingxue had arrived!
The Frost Condensation Sword unleashed a sharp sword qi, striking the wind wolf squarely in the neck.
The wind wolf's body twisted in mid-air, then crashed to the ground. Before it could even get up, Bai Qingxue closed in, her second strike piercing its throat.
Spiritual power erupted, and the wind wolf's body stiffened abruptly, then softly slumped down, utterly silent.
From drawing her sword to sheathing it, only a few breaths had passed.
Ye Qingyao leaned against the tree, staring blankly at Bai Qingxue.
Her eyes were unfocused, as if she hadn't yet recovered from the terror of near-death.
The frost-white figure before her seemed to have stepped out of a dream.
She opened her mouth, her voice very soft, almost inaudible: “Sister Bai...?”
Bai Qingxue sheathed her sword and walked towards her.
Ye Qingyao's eyes instantly reddened. She suddenly felt this must be a hallucination before death.
Books said that when one was about to die, they would see the person they most wished to see. She hadn't believed it before, but now she did. The person she most wanted to see was Bai Qingxue.
Tears blurred her vision. She blinked hard, wanting to see this hallucination more clearly. Bai Qingxue had already reached her, looking down at her with a slight frown.
It wasn't a hallucination. That frown was too real; Bai Qingxue wouldn't frown in a hallucination.
“Sister Bai...” Ye Qingyao's voice trembled violently. She suddenly lunged forward, burying her face in Bai Qingxue's embrace, her hands tightly clutching Bai Qingxue's robe, as if fearing she would vanish the next second.
Bai Qingxue's body stiffened slightly. She wasn't accustomed to being embraced like this; in fact, she barely remembered the last time she had been hugged.
Bai Qingxue's hands hovered in the air, paused, and ultimately didn't push her away.
Ye Qingyao buried her face in Bai Qingxue's shoulder, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
She was holding back, struggling hard. Bai Qingxue could feel the small, cool patch on her robe where it was dampened by tears.
After a few breaths, Bai Qingxue reached out and gently patted her back. Once, twice, her movements awkward, like comforting a startled small animal.
“It's alright,” Bai Qingxue said. Her tone was still faint, but lower than usual.
Ye Qingyao's tears finally flowed freely, silently for a long time, before she slowly let go.
She took a step back, lowered her head, and haphazardly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, not daring to look at Bai Qingxue. She felt utterly humiliated.
Bai Qingxue said nothing, her gaze falling on the wound on Ye Qingyao's left leg. A large section of her pant leg was torn, revealing three deep gashes underneath. The flesh was ripped open, blood still oozing out, and the edges of the wound were blackened—a sign of venom from a monster beast's claws or fangs.
Ye Qingyao lowered her head, her voice slightly choked, as if trying to explain something: “I... I thought I could do it.”
Bai Qingxue didn't respond.
She took out a porcelain bottle from her storage bag, poured out a pill, and handed it over.
It was a Recovery Pill that Lu Xueqing had given her last time; she hadn't used them all.
“Eat it.”
Ye Qingyao took the pill, her fingers brushing against Bai Qingxue's fingertips, which were slightly cool. She looked down at the pill in her palm, suddenly recalling that long ago, Sister Bai had also handed things to her like this.
Back then, Ye Qingyao had just begun cultivating. Once, she'd cut her hand while practicing swordplay and ran crying to Bai Qingxue.
Bai Qingxue at that time had been the same. She said nothing, merely took a pill from her sleeve, handed it over, and told her to “Eat it.”
Back then, she thought Sister Bai was so cold.
Only later did she understand that Sister Bai was simply that kind of person.
She wouldn't ask “Does it hurt?” or say “Don't be afraid,” but she would give you pills, bandage your wounds, and slow her pace to wait for you when you couldn't keep up.
Her care wasn't in her words, but in her actions.
But later, even those actions gradually lessened. Not just towards others, but towards everyone, including her.
Ye Qingyao didn't know what had happened.
All she knew was that Sister Bai became quieter and more distant, like a layer of frost slowly thickening, the core still there, but unreachable.
She had once thought of asking, of chasing after her to grab her sleeve and say, “Sister Bai, what's wrong?”
But she didn't. Because she was afraid.
Afraid that Sister Bai would merely glance at her indifferently, say “Nothing,” and then continue to walk away. Afraid that asking would be futile, afraid that she simply wasn't worthy of knowing.
At that time, she herself was also falling. Her brother was tested and found to have inferior spiritual roots, and the family's gaze shifted from expectation to disappointment, and from disappointment to indifference.
She watched her brother grow silent day by day, yet she could do nothing. That sense of powerlessness made her feel useless; if she couldn't even help her own family, what right did she have to inquire about Sister Bai's affairs?
So she said nothing, did nothing.
She merely watched Sister Bai's retreating figure from afar, seeing that silhouette grow colder and more distant. She thought, perhaps Sister Bai didn't need her. Perhaps Sister Bai had never needed anyone.
But now, Bai Qingxue stood before her, handing her a pill and saying, “It's alright.”
Exactly like before.
Ye Qingyao put the pill into her mouth and swallowed it.
The medicinal power dissolved, and a warm current rose from her stomach, easing the pain in her left arm's wound.
Bai Qingxue glanced at her, then crouched down, taking out Snow Spirit Powder and strips of cloth from her storage bag.
She sprinkled the medicinal powder onto Ye Qingyao's wound, then carefully bandaged it with the cloth strips.
Her movements weren't gentle, but they were precise, each wrap even, neither too loose nor too tight.
Ye Qingyao watched her as she bent down to bandage the wound.
Bai Qingxue's eyelashes were long, casting a faint shadow beneath her eyes when lowered. The few strands of white hair at her temples fell, swaying gently with her movements. She remembered that when Sister Bai helped her bandage wounds as a child, she also kept her head down like this.
Back then, she also didn't speak, wore the same expression, and wrapped the bandages in the same meticulous way.
Perhaps, Sister Bai hadn't changed at all.
Ye Qingyao's nose stung, and her eyes reddened again. She bit her lip, desperately holding back, not wanting to cry in front of Bai Qingxue.
“It's done,” Bai Qingxue stood up, dusting off the medicinal powder from her hands.
Ye Qingyao nodded, her voice soft: “Thank you, Sister Bai.”
Bai Qingxue glanced at her, saying nothing more.
She then turned and walked to the wind wolf's corpse, retrieved its monster core, and put it into her storage bag. She then looked up at the sky; the sun was already setting in the west, and if they didn't leave soon, they wouldn't get out of the Luoyun Mountain Range before dark.
“Can you still walk?” Bai Qingxue asked.
Ye Qingyao tried to move her left leg; though it hurt, her bones were fine.
“Stay close to me.”
Bai Qingxue finished speaking, then turned and walked towards the mountain path.
Ye Qingyao followed behind her, her steps somewhat faltering, but she didn't fall behind.
The two walked one after another on the mountain path. Bai Qingxue didn't walk quickly, and Ye Qingyao followed, watching Bai Qingxue's silhouette.
The setting sun filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, falling on Bai Qingxue's shoulders and hair.
Ye Qingyao suddenly felt that this silhouette was exactly the same as the one in her memories.
When she was little, Sister Bai often walked ahead of her too. Back then, she always had to jog to keep up; Sister Bai wouldn't turn back to wait, but she would slow her pace slightly.
Now, Sister Bai's pace was still the same.
Neither fast nor slow, just right for her to keep up.
Ye Qingyao lowered her head, gripping the short sword in her hand tightly. It wasn't sadness, but a touch of self-loathing. She wanted to get closer, yet she always held herself back.
No more words passed between them.
The mountain path was long, and the wind swept through the forest, rustling the leaves.
Bai Qingxue walked ahead, with Ye Qingyao following behind, one after another, heading towards the mountain gate.
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