Suxue

Bai Qingxue sat in the study for a long time.

A stack of old files lay spread out before her, retrieved from the bottom shelf of the bookcase. The cover lacked a title, bearing only a blurry line of ink that had long since become illegible.

She had originally thought it was a record regarding the ruins, but as she flipped through it, her fingers suddenly went still.

Because she knew the person who had written these old files.

“Yu Suxue, True Disciple of Xueji Peak, Xuantian Sect. Ordered to guard the Nanhuai altar, forty-three years to date.”

Bai Qingxue’s gaze lingered on the words “forty-three years.”

Forty-three years.

A cultivator, staying in such a remote, small country for forty-three years?

“There is a door beneath the altar. Behind the door is something indescribable, something that must not be looked upon. When I first arrived, the seal was already damaged, and I used the Ice Spirit power to reconstruct it. However, the backlash from the Ice Spirit Physique has been worsening by the day. I know that if no one guards the seal, the thing behind the door will see the light of day once more. Therefore, I dare not return.”

Bai Qingxue looked up and glanced out the window, realizing that the sky was nearly dark.

Xiao Nanyuan had stayed in the side room all afternoon today, not coming to the study to disturb her.

The light in the side room was on, and an occasional faint sound drifted out, as if she were busy with something.

Bai Qingxue withdrew her gaze and continued reading.

The handwriting in the latter half of the notes began to grow messy. It was no longer neat regular script; the strokes showed traces of trembling.

“I intend to seal myself within the ice coffin, using my own coldness to reinforce the seal. This departure is without a return date. Should there be a successor, remember: the door must not be opened. The thing must not be seen.”

The door?

Bai Qingxue’s finger paused on the paper. When she had explored the ruins last time, her spiritual sense had swept over the stone chambers, the fissure, and the collapsed stone platforms, but she hadn't seen any door.

Was it hidden by the seal, or was it concealed deeper within?

Bai Qingxue then turned to the next page.

There were no words.

Only a drawing.

The ink lines of the drawing had faded, and the edges were blurred, but the outline was still faintly discernible. It was a star map.

Bai Qingxue recognized the positions of a few stars; they appeared on the star charts of the Eastern Region as well. However, several others were incorrect.

Was it a star map from another region? Or was it drawn incorrectly?

Bai Qingxue kept the page open, looking at it for a while. Then she closed the notes, leaned back against the chair, and closed her eyes.

The information in the notes slowly pieced itself together in her mind.

Something was sealed beneath the altar.

Then, a cultivator named Suxue used Ice Spirit power to seal that door, eventually sealing herself in an ice coffin to maintain the seal with her own body.

If she wasn't mistaken, the sect must have known about this, which was why they had sent her—someone who also possessed the Ice Spirit Physique.

But what did they send her here to do?

Bai Qingxue opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling.

There was a thin crack in the wooden beam, stretching from one end to the other, as if it had been there for a very long time.

Bai Qingxue suddenly remembered something else.

She had been to that stone chamber and seen that ice coffin.

But the ice coffin was empty.

According to the records in the notes, Suxue had sealed herself inside the ice coffin.

So where did Suxue go? Was it related to that star map?

The study was very quiet, devoid of any sound.

Bai Qingxue stood up, walked to the bookcase, and returned the notes to their original place.

She stood there for a moment before withdrawing her hand from the spine of the book.

Bai Qingxue made no sound, nor did she have any intention of telling anyone.

After all, even she herself didn't know what she was investigating.

Was it the truth? A conspiracy? Or just a few pages of paper left behind by someone whose life or death was unknown?

Night fell.

Bai Qingxue emerged from the study and stood in the courtyard.

A few birds returning to their nests were hidden among the leaves of the old locust tree, chirping away. Hearing her footsteps, they flapped their wings and flew off.

The darkness swallowed their shadows, and they vanished in the blink of an eye.

The light in the side room was still on.

Xiao Nanyuan’s shadow was reflected on the window paper—small, head bowed, busy with something unknown.

The shadow swayed once, then again, like a candle flame gently flickering on the surface of the water.

Bai Qingxue walked to the stone table and sat down.

She didn't light a lamp or pour tea; she simply sat there.

After a while, the door to the side room opened.

Xiao Nanyuan walked out, carrying a tea tray in her hands.

On the tea tray sat a pot of tea and two cups—one white porcelain, one coarse ceramic.

She placed the tea tray on the stone table and poured two cups of tea.

She pushed one cup toward Bai Qingxue and placed the other in front of herself.

Then Xiao Nanyuan sat down and cradled her cup, but she didn't drink.

She stole a glance at Bai Qingxue through the steam rising from the teacup.

“Immortal Sister,” Xiao Nanyuan’s voice was very soft, as if muffled by a layer of gauze.

“You seem... unhappy.”

Bai Qingxue looked at the tea infusion in the cup. “I am not unhappy.”

This was not a lie.

Bai Qingxue truly didn't feel unhappy; she was merely filled with doubts.

Xiao Nanyuan didn't press further; she just lowered her head and took a small sip of tea.

After thinking for a moment, Xiao Nanyuan set down her cup, hopped off the stone stool, walked to Bai Qingxue’s side, and looked up.

Moonlight fell on Xiao Nanyuan’s face, making her eyes shine brightly like two polished pieces of obsidian.

Xiao Nanyuan looked at Bai Qingxue expectantly and asked:

“Immortal Sister, are you willing to tell me?”

Bai Qingxue looked down at Xiao Nanyuan.

Moonlight spread a thin layer over Xiao Nanyuan’s face, and the shadows of her eyelashes lay motionless upon her skin.

Bai Qingxue watched Xiao Nanyuan for a moment, then withdrew her gaze, picked up her teacup, and took another sip.

“Go back to sleep.”

Xiao Nanyuan nodded.

She didn't ask again, didn't say “But you haven't told me yet,” and didn't show a disappointed expression.

Xiao Nanyuan simply turned around obediently and walked back into the room.

She paused at the doorway and glanced back.

That frost-white silhouette was still sitting at the stone table, unmoving.

Then she went inside.

Bai Qingxue finished the cold tea. She set down the cup, stood up, and walked into the main room.

She didn't light a lamp. In the darkness, she took off her outer robe and sat cross-legged on the bed.

On the low bed beside her, Xiao Nanyuan had already crawled under the covers. Her breathing was very light, but she wasn't asleep yet.

Bai Qingxue knew.

After all, that breathing was too light—so light it was intentional.

Bai Qingxue closed her eyes.

She had to stop thinking about that roll of notes.

After all, thinking about it was useless.

Even if she knew the sect had a purpose, that there was something beneath the altar, and that Suxue’s disappearance might hide a secret, what of it?

What could she do? Question True Lord Shuanghua? Question Liu Ningshuang? Smash the ice coffin?

Clearly, she couldn't.

She was too weak.

In the eyes of a great sect in the Eastern Region, a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage was nothing more than a child who had just learned to walk.

She couldn't even touch the edges of the truth.

Bai Qingxue opened her eyes.

In the darkness, the color of her eyes was even lighter than usual, like the surface of a frozen lake.

No light, no ripples—just quietly frozen over.

On the low bed, Xiao Nanyuan rolled over and pulled the quilt up a little higher.

Then, it went silent.

Bai Qingxue pressed her hand over her dantian. Through her robe, she could feel the ice lotus slowly rotating, turn after turn, like a millstone that would never stop.

Bai Qingxue didn't know.

She didn't know if she would become the second Suxue.

Or rather, she didn't know if the sect hoped she would become the second Suxue.