Bai Yue was still tormented by the scorching heat throughout her body, her silver hair scattered across the ice brick, slightly curled by the rising steam.
She bit her pale red lips lightly, suppressing whimpers escaping her throat, her fingertips unconsciously clenching, knuckles turning white.
Mu Chenxi’s jade hand shimmered with specks of cold starlight, strands of chilly air gathering into a white stream that drifted through the window crack, slowly merging into Bai Yue’s body.
As Mu Chenxi’s pure cold aura entered her, Bai Yue’s tense back gradually relaxed, her tightly furrowed brows eased, and even the flush on her cheeks faded slightly.
Seeing this, Mu Chenxi quietly pushed the window crack shut like a thief, moving so lightly for fear of disturbing anyone inside.
Her jade hand pressed against her chest again, where her heartbeat still raced uncontrollably, a thin tremor spreading to her fingertips.
As expected, her Heart of the Dao needed tempering.
Staying by Bai Yue’s side was the right choice.
Her heartbeat refused to calm.
With a sense of realization, Mu Chenxi tapped the ground with her toe and leapt toward the Bamboo Grove by the lake.
The long sword’s clear hum rang out as it left the sheath, sword shadows fluttering instantly.
Sharp sword energy swept over the bamboo tips, sending leaves rustling to the ground.
This was her strongest technique, the Taishang Forget-Emotion Sword Art.
She had long since comprehended the first stage of the sword art, Forget-Emotion, and had reached a bottleneck.
At this moment, she distinctly sensed the bottleneck of the Taishang Forget-Emotion Sword Art loosening ever so slightly.
Taishang Forget-Emotion—so it actually requires the step of becoming emotionally moved?
Did I… become emotionally moved…
Mu Chenxi pondered seriously, actively recalling the scene inside the bamboo house just now.
Bai Yue’s fiery figure gradually emerged in her mind, still hazy and indistinct.
Her heart thumped again, and her fair face flushed slightly.
Just like that—she felt it!
The long sword in her hand danced faster and faster, the sword moves growing more erratic.
Though sharp and powerful, there was a touch of disorder within.
Pu chi!
A mouthful of fresh blood spilled from Mu Chenxi’s lips, splattering onto the bluestone slab.
“No, something’s still missing—the feeling isn’t clear enough.”
Mu Chenxi frowned, raising her hand to casually wipe away the blood at her lips, the crimson staining her fingertips glaringly bright.
She closed her eyes, focusing, and tried harder to recall the image that made her heart race.
Once again, Bai Yue’s blurry silhouette surfaced in her mind.
Her sword moved again, chaotic as before, sword energy crisscrossing as bamboo by the lake snapped and fell to the ground.
Pu chi!
Mu Chenxi spat out another mouthful of old blood, red blooming across her white robe.
“No, no—it’s still not clear. I can’t remember her exact appearance.”
Mu Chenxi looked toward the bamboo house on the lake.
Hesitation flickered in her icy blue eyes, and the color drained even further from her cheeks.
She wondered whether to peek into the bamboo house at Bai Yue again.
But, being upright and old-fashioned, she felt it wasn’t right.
After all, one must not look upon what is improper.
The first time was to ensure Bai Yue’s safety, the second to ease her burning agony.
But now, to satisfy her own sword practice, it was not the act of a gentleman.
“I wonder if that Fiery Poison in her body will erupt again tomorrow night…”
Mu Chenxi muttered softly, finally withdrawing her gaze, resisting the urge to spy on Bai Yue, deciding to wait until tomorrow night.
However, as a sword fanatic who had touched the bottleneck, her sword refused to rest.
Again and again, she recalled Bai Yue’s form, her heart racing each time, swinging her sword with each pulse, coughing blood with every effort.
The bamboo by the lakeside was cut down one after another, the fallen stalks piling into a small, chaotic mountain.
The commotion was not small.
Inside the bamboo house on the lake, Bai Yue slept exceptionally well.
On nights without Mu Chenxi’s cold aura, she would have suffered through every hour.
For Mu Chenxi, the sword fanatic, it was destined to be a sleepless night.
***
At dawn the next day, Bai Yue stretched lazily and rose from the bamboo house, water stains scattered across the floor.
Silver hair draped over her shoulders, carrying a lingering drowsiness.
“Huh? Why did I sleep so well tonight?”
Bai Yue wore a look of confusion, her brows lightly furrowed.
Because of her strange constitution, she rarely slept soundly.
“Could it be… her…”
Bai Yue wasn’t foolish; she quickly thought of Mu Chenxi.
“She’s not actually a bad person…”
Bai Yue muttered, tidying her messy silver hair and pulling on her tattered Dao robe before stepping out of the bamboo house.
“What’s this!?”
Bai Yue stared at the bare Bamboo Grove by the lake, then spotted Mu Chenxi collapsed beside the broken stalks.
With a tap of her toe, she swiftly rushed over.
Only upon reaching Mu Chenxi did Bai Yue see clearly.
Mu Chenxi’s white robe was soaked with blood, her delicate face pale, her breath faint.
Bai Yue reached out to support Mu Chenxi, letting her rest gently in her arms, her palm feeling the coldness of the other’s shoulder.
“Are you okay? What happened to you? Did an enemy attack!?”
Bai Yue’s voice was anxious, panic filling her eyes.
The shattered bamboo everywhere and Mu Chenxi’s serious injuries made her instinctively think an enemy had struck in the night and a fierce battle had ensued.
“No enemy. I was practicing my sword last night.”
Mu Chenxi spoke weakly.
Her head felt heavy as it rested in Bai Yue’s embrace, her heart skipping as the back of her head touched something soft.
She reflexively tried to grip her sword, but her arms were too heavy to lift, and the long sword slipped from her grasp, landing with a clear ring.
“Practicing… Go easier on yourself…”
Bai Yue’s mouth twitched, her tone full of speechlessness.
Good grief.
Mu Chenxi was so ruthless even to herself?
She could practice swordplay until she was half dead…
Bai Yue had no idea that Mu Chenxi had used memories of her as material for her sword practice.
If she knew the truth, she’d be even more speechless.
“It’s fine. I took a Healing Pill. Just need to lie down for a bit.”
Mu Chenxi spoke softly, savoring the softness behind her head and the faint scent of grass and wood in her nose.
Her heart raced faster, and as she closed her eyes, she subconsciously gripped her clothes, wanting to remember this feeling and continue practicing after she rested.
Seeing Mu Chenxi resting in her arms with her eyes closed, Bai Yue didn’t move away, but instead softly asked the question on her mind.
“Was it you who helped me last night?”
Mu Chenxi’s heart suddenly stopped, as if missing a beat.
She opened her eyes wide, glancing at Bai Yue, then hurriedly looked away, the tips of her ears turning faintly red.
She felt guilty, afraid Bai Yue would question her, and even more afraid her spying would be discovered.
“Yes…”
Mu Chenxi’s voice was soft.
Not skilled at lying, she ultimately answered truthfully.
“Thank you.”
Bai Yue’s tone was sincere.
After all, it was Mu Chenxi who helped relieve her burning agony.
She didn’t think much beyond that.
The two of them were both women.
Mu Chenxi probably didn’t have other thoughts about her.
“You’re welcome…”
Mu Chenxi answered with a hint of guilt, quietly breathing a sigh of relief as her tense body relaxed.
“Why do you practice so desperately?”
Bai Yue asked again, her gaze falling on the bloodstained robe.
“The Heavenly Tribulation is approaching. I have to grow stronger quickly.”
Mu Chenxi answered without hesitation, her voice unwavering.
“…”
Bai Yue looked at her pale but determined face, genuinely feeling a bit of admiration.
To talk about saving the world and be so ruthless to herself—Mu Chenxi might really be the protagonist of this world.
Actually, Mu Chenxi was a good person.
She’d even quietly help suppress the Fiery Poison.
Though wooden in personality, she was beautiful and powerful.
Who wouldn’t want such a person as their Disciple?
Bai Yue’s eyes scanned the girl in her arms, a calculation forming in her mind.
“Do you really want me to be your Master?”
“You agree?”
Mu Chenxi suddenly looked up, struggling to get up to perform the formal disciple ceremony.
Afraid Bai Yue would change her mind in the next moment, she even forgot her pain.
“Don’t rush. I haven’t finished speaking.”
Bai Yue quickly tightened her arms, gently embracing her slim waist and pressing her back down into her arms.
“W-what… do you want to say…”
Mu Chenxi felt the softness against the back of her head, her body instantly stiffening.
Even her voice grew tense as she unconsciously twisted her clothes between her fingers.