Chapter 82: Treatment

The array was broken, and a sudden flash of white light appeared.

Vane lifted his head. He had been using his remaining spiritual power to repair his leg, and he could just barely stand. Once his leg was capable of walking, however, he did not enter the sealing ground. Zhou Shijin was certain to defeat the demonic cultivator; his entering would only add to the chaos.

A figure gradually manifested. Zhou Shijin’s features held the silhouette of a delicate woman, and her appearance alone wasn't exceptionally striking—but once touched by that innate, bone-deep arrogance and flamboyance, her face became like a blazing flame, intensely capturing one's gaze.

Vane looked directly into her arms. Zora seemed to have fainted from exhaustion and was being carried by Zhou Shijin. Her brows were knit tight, her eyes closed, and her head moved slightly as if searching for a comfortable position.

Zhou Shijin glanced at her. Her disciple was quite good at acting spoiled; though she often wore a wooden expression, she looked adorable. She was naive and oblivious to romance, and her way of speaking was strange, but once one got used to it, it was rather interesting. Her heart was decisive and cruel without the slightest hesitation, fitting Zhou Shijin’s standards perfectly. In her eyes, Zora’s head moving about and weakly nuzzling against her was no different from acting like a spoiled child.

As Zhou Shijin approached, the youth’s hands instinctively reached out, wanting to take Zora.

Zhou Shijin, who had originally only come to check his injuries, raised an eyebrow: "..."

She scanned him from head to toe, her tone blunt: "In this pathetic state of yours, can you even carry her?"

Zhou Shijin possessed none of the dignified concern typical of an Immortal elder. Vane remained unruffled, nodding slightly.

"I can."

He paused, then added: "Immortal Zhou likely still needs to find Senior Brother Song and the others. I can wait here while holding Zora. This way, it will be more convenient for you to move. Besides, you know I am Zora's servant; I naturally would not harm her."

This boy had far more schemes than Zora. Even in this state, he could hide his emotions behind his skin and offer a logical, reasoned persuasion on the surface.

Zhou Shijin first used spiritual power to lift a high-grade pill, letting it float before him. Vane had never seen this pill before, yet he picked it up and swallowed it without a change in expression. Brimming spiritual power filled his body, and his injuries were greatly alleviated. He lowered his gaze and carefully took Zora into his arms.

The wounds on her body had also mostly healed, but she was too exhausted to tell if she was unconscious or merely in a deep sleep.

Zhou Shijin went to clean up the aftermath. Standing in mid-air, she looked down at her own hand. That single sword strike had actually made her feel tired. The shortening of her lifespan and the stagnation—or even regression—of her cultivation meant she was no longer the woman who caused trouble everywhere in the past.

Whatever.

Zhou Shijin smiled and looked straight ahead. She was never seeking eternal life to begin with. Moreover, there was Zora; she only hoped the girl would grow up quickly. Zhou Shijin’s days, because of that disciple, no longer felt so monotonous.

As Zora moved from one embrace to another, her brows twitched slightly. She shifted her head by instinct, finding a familiar, good spot against Vane’s chest.

The youth’s body had lost most of its adolescent gangliness; he had grown much taller. The originally thin layer of muscle was becoming increasingly defined and sleek, covering his frame perfectly. Though wrapped in black clothing, one could see his posture was like a pine tree or a sharp spear—or perhaps a keen sword drawn from its sheath, full of a youth’s sharp edge.

When relaxed, the youth’s chest was exceptionally supple and resilient. Even in her sleep, Zora could habitually find the most comfortable spot. Vane had carried her on his back or let her lean against him, but he had rarely held her like this, and certainly not for so long.

He quickly adjusted his posture to make her more comfortable. He didn't leave; the youth truly stood on that spot, motionless.

The sun hung high in the sky. With the boundary broken, the surrounding ruins and intact houses stood in silence. In a daze, Vane seemed to hear the steady sound of the girl’s heart beating against his chest. He looked down at her for a long while, then lifted his head to observe the surroundings.

They should be returning to the sect soon. Vane thought for a moment, then, as if unable to control himself, he naturally lowered his head and cast his gaze over her face.

When Zora slept, she looked like a harmless flower. Her lashes were also amber-tinted. The soft, pillowy flesh of her cheek was pressed against his chest, piling up into a small, plump curve. Her twin-bun hairstyle had long since come undone, and the blue hair ribbon was lost somewhere. The wings of her nose were pale and smooth, bearing a translucent jade-like quality. Her skin, which had been pale from injury, was now gradually taking on the pink hue of warmth.

He watched for a while until the girl suddenly opened her mouth.

"Higher."

Vane: "..."

He adjusted the angle, holding her upper body higher. Zora took the chance to nuzzle against him, moving all the way to his neck. Her forehead pressed against the side of his neck, where the steady blood flowed beneath the skin and the rhythm connected to his heart could be felt.

She kept her eyes closed to rest, seemingly treating him as a frame for her to climb. Once she found a good spot, she curled her body and fell asleep peacefully. Because of the clever position Zora occupied, he could no longer lower his head to look at her. The youth gazed at a distant tree, staring fixedly with a calm expression.

However, the heartbeat coming from his neck grew increasingly slow and soft, as if his heart were failing.

Zora suddenly snapped her eyes open and looked up at Vane.

Vane met her gaze without speaking, tightening his spiritual power around his heart to make the thumping sound exceptionally quiet.

Zora watched for a moment. Seeing no signs that he was about to die, she continued searching for a new position to lean against and repair her body.

"..."

"..."

Until Vane grew used to it. At a certain moment, the side of his neck completely lost the sensation of the heart's resonance. Zora opened her eyes to look at him again.

"..."

"..."

Zora: "Why do you have no heartbeat anymore? I kept thinking you were about to die, so I had to keep checking."

Vane didn't explain, only saying: "...Sorry."

Only then did the spiritual power restricting his heart mostly dissipate.

Zhou Shijin had Turi Qi and the others go to an abandoned wooden hut on another mountain to rest.

Zhou Shijin: "I imagine you wouldn't want to return to the sect immediately either."

Turi Qi, who was carrying Yiling Ke on her back, was stunned. Her expression faltered for a second; after a long pause, she nodded slowly and with certainty. Indeed, even if she had no grievance with the sect itself, she didn't want to face the Immortals... or Wanghua-jun. She needed some time to adjust her mood, and they needed time to treat their injuries.

Turi Qi composed herself and looked at her. Zhou Shijin didn't particularly care and expressed her understanding. Carrying Song Zhihuai by the back of his collar, she flew on her sword toward the residence first.

Turi Qi followed closely behind and asked: "Immortal Zhou, what about Junior Sister Zora and Junior Brother Vane?"

Zhou Shijin waved a hand: "Those two? I'll go find them later. This Song-whatever-his-name-is is about to ride a crane to the west."

Song Zhihuai’s eyes were tightly shut and his lips were turning purple—a harbinger of heart demons invading his spiritual platform. Heart demons always chose the moments when a host’s mind was fragile or when they were in a desperate situation to disrupt their Dao heart. He was suffering through a torment, as if a small knife were finding the weakest part of his heart and slicing it open inch by inch.

No wonder he wanted to enter the Heartless Path. Zhou Shijin glanced at him. Or rather, this man was suited for the Heartless Path.

Although cultivation is for the sake of becoming powerful and for the sake of desire, desires have a hierarchy. True, boundless freedom and license do not exist; a free-spirited heart is free within heaven and earth, but cannot transcend the world itself. One shouldn't be too restricted, but shouldn't be too delusional either, wanting to obtain everything.

When Song Zhihuai spent time with his friends, he wouldn't rigidly lecture them on the Dao he sought. He could naturally choose to accept the heart demon, searching for other methods while suffering, yet he still chose to step onto this path. A cultivator's journey is like a mortal's life; there are gains and there are losses. The first hundred years for a cultivator are the most important, deciding whether you can continue; at the very least, you must break through the limits of your lifespan. Many people give up high-ranking official positions and smooth paths to come here, only to potentially reap nothing for decades and die in depression.

Song Zhihuai’s choice of his own path was perfectly normal, and Turi Qi and the others had never stopped him.

Zhou Shijin swept away the dust in the wooden hut, making it at least habitable.

"But there is only one bed," Turi Qi said awkwardly.

"Let me think," Zhou Shijin paused, then said briskly, "Finding that boy will do. Wait a bit, put Yiling Ke on the table first. This Song Zhihuai is about to die; let the dying take precedence."

Turi Qi didn't understand for a moment who "that boy" was—likely Junior Brother Vane. But how would Vane be carrying a bed with him? She didn't say much and placed Yiling Ke carefully on the table. Fortunately, the tabletop was large enough to suffice.

Zhou Shijin first locked Song Zhihuai’s heart meridians. When Turi Qi found him, he was like a dead man buried in the ruins, with only his nose showing. Turi Qi almost thought Zora had buried Song Zhihuai’s corpse in her grief, and her nose had instantly felt sore. Only after digging him out did she realize he wasn't dead yet.

Turi Qi had been dazed, then thought:

Junior Sister Zora must have been afraid the demon would see Senior Brother Song. Although a demon wouldn't be stopped by such a method, this demon was heading for the seal; as long as Senior Brother wasn't in his sight, he might not bother with him.

Having found a reason for Zora, Turi Qi carried Song Zhihuai on her back. When Zhou Shijin came to look, she laughed for a long time, saying, "That girl Zora is truly fun. Without spiritual power, she must have dug through the ruins for a long time to bury him so tightly."

Zora had indeed done so. She had spent a good amount of time earnestly digging through the dust and ruins to hide Song Zhihuai well. In her heart, she was just honestly and meticulously doing what she believed was best for her friend.

Faced with a desperate situation while heavily injured, the girl had buried her friend with her bare hands; Zhou Shijin could still see spots of blood staining the area around a small vessel on Song Zhihuai.

Zhou Shijin raised an eyebrow. This disciple of hers was always one of a kind.

Hearing this, Turi Qi also understood the logic. ...Though Zora likely just felt she

should

do it at that time and simply did it, being very sincere.

Now in the wooden hut, Zhou Shijin did her best to sort out Song Zhihuai’s spiritual meridians.

"He won't die yet; the rest is up to him." Zhou Shijin withdrew her hand. "Heart demons are something outsiders cannot touch."

Turi Qi nodded: "I will look after Junior Sister Yiling and Senior Brother Song."

Zhou Shijin: "Then I'll go pick up Zora first. Be careful."

As soon as the words fell, the sword cultivator vanished from the spot.

At this moment, Zora had already woken up and was sitting under a tree. Because of her internal injuries, Zhou Shijin couldn't fully heal her yet, so her breathing was a bit weak. Vane was also heavily injured and sat beside her. The two of them carried a heavy scent of blood—all their own—yet their expressions were not anxious.

Zora held her knees, staring at the sky. Vane followed her gaze. If it were night, they would look like idle people watching the stars.

"..."

"..."

A long silence.

Zora turned over, expressionless: "Did Master really say she would come find us in a bit?"

Vane looked at her and nodded: "Immortal Zhou said to wait here. After she finishes checking on Senior Brother Song and the others, she will come over."

Zora: "Oh."

She turned back.

Zora stared at a bird flying past: "My internal organs hurt a bit."

Vane looked at her and frowned: "Perhaps they were damaged. Immortal Zhou is not a medicine cultivator after all; we can go find the people of Floating Cloud Valley."

Perhaps he should study some medical texts for future needs,

the youth thought.

Even if he didn't become a medicine cultivator, he should be able to treat some injuries.

The bird flew past, and Zora watched another bird behind it.

After a long time passed.

Zora repeated: "Did Master really say she would come find us in a bit?"

Vane explained in more detail: "Immortal Zhou said to wait here. After she finishes checking on Senior Brother Song and the others, she will come over. Perhaps some of them are heavily injured and need immediate treatment."

Zora was in a daze. The wait was too boring. She wasn't good at small talk, but when she wanted to talk, she would find something to say.

Zora attempted to start a topic: "I remember the demonic cultivator hit your chest. Why does it feel the same as before when I lean on it?"

Vane: "Because the wound is on the left side."

Zora had nothing left to say. She finished watching another bird and turned back to praise him: "You're more comfortable to lie on than a pillow. Just right."

Not too soft, not too hard; when he relaxed, he had a resilient suppleness.

The girl's words were very sincere, without a trace of romantic undertone—it was more like a review of two pillows.

Yet the person listening had a mind full of "mud" and felt the edges of his ears turn red.

Vane pursed his lips: "Thank you."

Zora: "You're welcome."