Shen Mo’s breathing grew increasingly ragged. He gripped Yun He’s sleeve so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Yun He watched him, suddenly remembering that night. He had been just like this then, clutching her sleeve as if it were his last hope.
But he hadn’t held on.
No one had.
“Endure it a little longer.”
Her fingers, coated in a greasy ointment, were scorching hot as they slowly traced circles on the small of his back.
The substance was called Passion Entwining Ointment. Once applied, it could instill a man with a hollow, aching desire to be filled.
Shen Mo’s gaze had already grown vacant, his pupils losing focus. He could only gasp for air.
Under the influence of the medicine, his body uncontrollably responded to Yun He’s touch.
This sense of shame — his body betraying his will — made him feel more hopeless than death itself.
“So sensitive,” Yun He chuckled softly. “Did that block of ice Qin Shuying treat you like this? Does she also apply medicine to you so patiently?”
At the mention of Qin Shuying, Shen Mo’s entire body shuddered. A flicker of clarity flashed through his blurred eyes. “Don’t… don’t mention her…” His voice was broken beyond recognition.
“I will mention her.” A hint of ruthlessness flashed in Yun He’s eyes, and she suddenly applied pressure with her fingertips. “I want to see exactly how many people’s scents are inside your body, hmm?”
Shen Mo’s mind went blank; only his instincts remained.
Soon.
It was almost time —
Right then —
The palace doors were suddenly kicked open.
“Honored Teacher.”
Yun He turned her head.
Outside the window, under the moonlight, Qin Shuying stood holding her sword, dressed in white.
Her gaze swept past Yun He and landed on Shen Mo.
Then, she spoke.
“I am here to take him.”
At that moment, the atmosphere inside and outside the hall was colder than the wind and snow atop the peak.
Yun He released Shen Mo’s chin and turned to face Qin Shuying.
Moonlight fell upon the woman, her white robes as pure as snow and her sword intent chilling.
She stood there motionless, but the snow within 3 feet of her had already quietly melted — a sign of Sword Qi released to its peak, vying for dominance with heaven and earth.
“Shuying.” Yun He’s tone remained indifferent, betraying no emotion. “Why have you come to my place in the middle of the night instead of staying at Heavenly Sword Peak?”
Qin Shuying did not answer.
Her gaze moved past Yun He and rested on Shen Mo.
Just one look.
Only Shen Mo knew how much was contained in that single glance.
He lowered his eyes, avoiding her gaze.
Yun He took in the scene, the corners of her lips curling slightly.
Qin Shuying finally withdrew her gaze to meet Yun He’s.
“Honored Teacher,” she said, her voice as cold as ever. “I dare not forget the events of 7 years ago.”
7 years ago.
Yun He’s smile faltered slightly.
That was when Qin Shuying had just succeeded as the Heavenly Sword Peak Master.
Back then, she was only in the Mid-Nascent Soul stage, her foundation unstable. In the eyes of those old fogies at Heavenly Sword Peak, she was merely a lucky junior.
Some were dissatisfied.
They caused quite a stir.
Later, every one of them fell silent — not because Qin Shuying was particularly powerful, but because Yun He had personally visited Heavenly Sword Peak.
On that occasion, she did nothing but sit in the main hall and drink one cup of tea.
While drinking, she didn’t even look at those people.
But after that cup of tea was finished, the Elders who had caused the most trouble took the initiative to submit their Memorial of Resignation.
From then on, no one dared to question Qin Shuying’s position as the Heavenly Sword Peak Master.
“You dare not forget?” Yun He retracted her thoughts with a half-smile. “Is that why you’ve come tonight to ruin my business?”
Qin Shuying did not deny it.
She simply said, “He saved my crane.”
Yun He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“The Cloud-Soaring Crane is like half my life to me,” Qin Shuying said, emphasizing every word. “He saved it, so I owe him a life.”
“So you’re here to repay that debt?”
“Yes.”
Yun He suddenly laughed.
The laughter was light, like a breeze passing through the hall, yet it caused the candlelight by the bed to flicker.
“Shuying, oh Shuying,” she said, shaking her head. “When did you learn to lie?”
Qin Shuying remained silent.
Yun He turned around and walked back to Shen Mo’s side.
She reached out, her fingertips gently brushing his collarbone — there, the bite mark left by Qin Shuying was still clearly visible.
“This mark,” she whispered, “was left by you.”
Qin Shuying’s gaze fell upon the bite mark.
Under the moonlight, something flashed in the depths of her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Does saving a crane require leaving a bite mark?”
Qin Shuying did not answer.
Yun He withdrew her hand and turned to look at her.
“Shuying,” her tone suddenly became very soft, almost like a sigh. “I raised you myself. Do you think I wouldn’t know what’s on your mind?”
Qin Shuying still said nothing.
Watching her, Yun He suddenly remembered many years ago.
At that time, Qin Shuying was still a Loose Cultivator, covered in mud and looking like a wild wolf fighting in the dirt.
It was during a trial to recruit disciples for Yunyin Mountain.
Some were born as favorites of heaven, while others were helpless, their lives as insignificant as blades of grass.
But Qin Shuying was different; she was an anomaly. She was a female Loose Cultivator with no background, yet she relied on a suicidal ferocity to carve a path through a group of daughters from prestigious families.
Yun He remembered it clearly. That day, the rain poured down, and the mud of the trial grounds was thick with the scent of blood.
At that time, Qin Shuying was only 15 or 16 years old. She was covered in wounds, her clothes in tatters, and she gripped a broken sword tightly in her hand. However, her gaze was frighteningly bright.
Standing across from her were several girls from prestigious families, mocking her for being an unwanted stray dog and trying to trample her into the mud.
Just as those girls were about to cripple Qin Shuying’s Meridians, Yun He happened to pass by.
At that time, Yun He was already the Sect Leader, standing high above. She could decide Qin Shuying’s life or death with a single glance.
She didn’t act immediately. Instead, she watched with interest from the clouds for a long time, seeing the girl get knocked down again and again, only to crawl back up with a bloodied face every time, refusing to bow even if her bones were broken.
‘Interesting.’
Yun He had chuckled then. With a flick of her finger, a beam of spiritual light descended, knocking back the girls from the prestigious families.
She descended slowly, her silk boots embroidered with cloud patterns stepping into the mud, yet they remained pristine.
She walked up to the dying Qin Shuying and looked down at her, as if looking at an ant that could be crushed at will but had some ornamental value.
“What is your name?” Yun He asked.
The girl looked up, her eyes full of wariness like a small beast ready to bite at any moment.
“Qin Shuying.”
Later, she grew up and became Yunyin Mountain’s youngest Female Sovereign. She never looked at Yun He with that kind of gaze again.
She thought she had been overthinking.
Until tonight, when she saw the look Qin Shuying gave Shen Mo.
She recognized that gaze.
She recognized it all too well.
Because many years ago, that child had looked at her the same way.
Yun He suddenly found it ridiculous.
Utterly ridiculous.
“Leave,” she said, turning around with her back to the window. “He stays.”
Qin Shuying did not move.
“Honored Teacher,” she said, “I cannot leave.”
“Oh?”
Qin Shuying tightened her grip on her sword.
“Since I have come tonight, I will not leave alone.”