The news of Gu Ting’s grave injury and critical condition spread within a day. He had always been sincere and warm-hearted in his conduct, with an extensive circle of friends. Divine beings came to visit him in wave after wave. Even disciples from the former Mingxing Palace who could come all came. Even Baize Dijun, who was as busy as a spinning top, took the time to visit once. Facing Hua Huang’s streaming tears, the gods could only remain wordlessly silent.

Battle generals being injured and perishing had almost become commonplace. Even the most compassionate heart would grow cold and hard after witnessing so many deaths. If Gu Ting could hold on, that would naturally be good. If he couldn’t hold on, one could only say it was fate.

Xuan Yi leaned against the moon window outside, silently listening to Yan Xia’s soft weeping inside the hall. After Hua Huang left to find Emperor Qingyuan, Yan Xia had entered the room. She had already been crying all day and originally wasn’t shedding tears anymore, but who knew that upon entering the room she would start sobbing again. When she saw the crushed lily-of-the-valley waist ornament in Fucang’s hand, she cried even harder.

Her eyes were completely red, her face covered in tear tracks, the handkerchief in her hand already soaked through. This appearance was not much different from when she had descended to the lower realm years ago. Xuan Yi couldn’t help but draw out her own handkerchief and pass it through the moon window, saying softly: “Senior Martial Sister Yan Xia, stop crying.”

Yan Xia only shook her head, saying intermittently in a low voice: “I’m the one who harmed Senior Martial Brother Gu Ting… It’s all my fault…”

This statement was without beginning or end, inexplicable. In Xuan Yi’s mind flashed hundreds of deductions in an instant. After thinking about it, she still didn’t voice them.

She didn’t speak, and Fucang even less would speak. For a time, only Yan Xia’s intermittent sobbing remained in the hall. After crying for half a day with no one opening their mouth to inquire or console her, she finally couldn’t cry anymore and could only say intermittently: “It was Senior Martial Brother Gu Ting who made the first move to provoke… Just… just listen, you must never speak of it outside. This counts as dereliction of duty through private combat. If the dijuns were to find out, they would surely punish him!”

Gu Ting would actually provoke first? Xuan Yi couldn’t help but turn her head to look at the bloodied Shenjun on the couch. After over twenty thousand years of not seeing him, had his temperament changed so drastically?

Fucang placed the ball of waist ornament back by Gu Ting’s hand and suddenly asked: “…Because of Fu Luo?”

Yan Xia stamped her feet anxiously, sighed for a long while, then said: “…You already know? Sigh! These years Senior Martial Brother Gu Ting has always been secretly in contact with Senior Martial Sister Fu Luo… He himself didn’t speak of it, so I couldn’t very well ask… This time, Senior Martial Brother Gu Ting saw Senior Martial Sister Fu Luo together with Great Lord Sui Hu’s third prince… very intimate, so he got angry and made the first move. How… how could he be any match for the third prince! Senior Martial Sister Fu Luo… she actually ran away on her own!”

Gu Ting was verbose and attentive about his friends’ matters, but deeply reticent about his own affairs. Even Fucang only vaguely knew that he had been entangled with Fu Luo these years. Fu Luo came from Tuxiang Mountain, with unique customs that honored women, often moving among dozens of Shenjuns without thinking anything of it. Probably because of Gu Ting’s broken engagement, she was very unwilling in her heart, and using every means at her disposal, had actually been entangled with him until now.

Xuan Yi said in astonishment: “Senior Martial Sister Fu Luo has even seduced demon clans?”

This senior martial sister was truly too formidable. Back then she had played Gu Ting and Yan Xia around in circles. Who would have thought that even now she could still play them around in circles, not even letting demon clans off.

Yan Xia said in a low voice: “I don’t care what Senior Martial Sister Fu Luo thinks… But Senior Martial Brother Gu Ting… is too pitiful… Back then it was all my fault…”

She began silently shedding tears again.

If she hadn’t lost her reason back then and publicly exposed Fu Luo’s secret affair with Shao Yi, Gu Ting wouldn’t have been forced to break off the engagement after losing all face. Perhaps in the long passage of time he would have discovered Fu Luo’s true nature and naturally given up hope. Or perhaps he would never have discovered it and lived on happily. Either way, he wouldn’t have been forced to abandon a long-anticipated marriage, to the point that now it had become a deadlock.

She had always harbored guilt toward Gu Ting.

Gu Ting on the soft couch suddenly trembled slightly, his fingers twisting as if searching for something. Finally touching the lily-of-the-valley waist ornament by his hand, he gripped it tightly and let out a low sigh.

Yan Xia couldn’t help but cup his blood-stained hand, tears falling one by one onto it: “I’m sorry, Senior Martial Brother Gu Ting… I’m sorry…”

Xuan Yi really didn’t much like listening to her crying. After standing for a while, she simply turned to leave. Fucang’s low voice sounded by the moon window: “Where are you going?”

She tugged at her sleeve: “…White Armor Courtyard.”

He made a sound of acknowledgment: “With Gu Ting’s grave injury this time, Crown Prince Chang Qin and Hua Huang will certainly not let this pass. I’m afraid these next few days will be spent discussing the matter of annihilating Great Lord Sui Hu. I temporarily have no time to instruct in the way of the sword… Rest early.”

Xuan Yi left wordlessly. The surge of grief and indignation about returning to Zhongshan now had little remaining. That huge gaping hole in Gu Ting’s back—she had actually seen it very clearly. The lower realm was already so terrifying, and Fucang had been a battle general there for many years.

Should she start properly learning martial arts and the way of the sword? This question—let her deliberate it well with herself.

The autumn rain continued its rustling patter. White Armor Courtyard was empty. The attendant female immortal didn’t know where she was off playing wildly, not even lighting a lamp. This female immortal really needed to be disciplined, but she was too lazy to bother. After all, she wasn’t from her household.

Xuan Yi lit a lamp herself and took out a book to leaf through. Suddenly she felt her right palm being viciously slashed by a sharp blade—the pain was extreme. She hastily spread open her palm but saw there wasn’t even a small cut on it.

The severe pain continued to spread. She rubbed her palm, couldn’t help but furrow her brow. Ever since she’d grown dragon scales, she had never again experienced this cutting sensation. What was going on?

*

Gu Ting lay on the couch for three days straight, his breath still like gossamer, looking as if it might break at any moment, yet stubbornly holding on throughout.

Yan Xia practically spent twelve hours a day in the hall, crying for a bit, then wiping his face and hands. Even Tai Yao, who occasionally came to check on the situation, could see something was wrong and couldn’t help but quietly ask Xuan Yi: “What’s the matter with Junior Martial Sister Yan Xia?”

Xuan Yi innocently shook her head. It seemed Yan Xia was destined to be entangled with Fu Luo to the end. At Mingxing Palace the two of them competed for Shao Yi; becoming battle generals they started competing for Gu Ting again. What a pitiful little princess.

Tai Yao turned to look at Gu Ting on the couch and asked curiously: “Why hasn’t Zhi Xi come? The Xinyou Division shouldn’t have descended to the lower realm recently, right?”

In the past she’d had the best relationship with Gu Ting. With Gu Ting gravely injured, even their teacher had come—how could she not come to see him?

“Senior Martial Sister Zhi Xi applied to transfer to the Wuchen Division. She probably doesn’t know.”

Wuchen Division? That was the most arduous place. Unless the Sea of Parting Hatred recovered, she basically couldn’t return to the upper realm. She applied to go there herself? Tai Yao pondered for a moment. He had always been perceptive, and suddenly understood. If he remembered correctly, Shao Yi seemed to be in the Wuchen Division? Since his withdrawal from studies, Zhi Xi had been melancholy the whole time. He had only thought it was because Xuan Yi wasn’t there. So it turned out…

He couldn’t help but shake his head.

As it neared noon, Tai Yao hurried back to Wenhua Palace. Before leaving, seeing that Xuan Yi was still wearing wide-sleeved long robes and wooden-soled shoes, he smiled and said: “Junior Martial Sister, although Junior Martial Brother Fucang has been arranged to guide your cultivation in the way of the sword, you shouldn’t be too lazy. Him indulging you like this isn’t very good.”

Obviously if she didn’t practice the sword he wouldn’t give her food—how did that become indulging her? Moreover, he himself had been busy with his own affairs these past few days—how did that become her being lazy?

The Huaxu Clan’s reputation was too good. Whatever he did, everyone felt it was reasonable and proper. The world was this absurd.

Xuan Yi touched tree after tree of fire-element parasol trees on her way back to White Armor Courtyard. This was deep autumn season. The golden-green interwoven leaves instead emanated increasingly intense vibrant colors. Magnificent pure qi steamed among them like dense mist that wouldn’t dissipate.

Today her right hand didn’t hurt as severely. The previous two days had been simply unbearable—the last time she was injured in the right leg by the catfish demon it hadn’t hurt like this. It was as if the wound had been sprinkled full of salt, then continuously torn at. Even sleeping at night wasn’t peaceful.

This strange pain, tracing it to its source, probably had only one explanation.

The refreshing autumn wind blew rustling across her face. The golden-green interwoven leaves fell like heavy rain. Xuan Yi glanced casually and suddenly saw beneath a fire-element parasol tree a Shenjun leaning there dressed in jade-colored long robes, the fire-red jewel on his forehead dazzlingly brilliant. She immediately drew in a breath—how coincidental. Just as she was thinking of it, the source had arrived. Would there be such a coincidence in the world? She never believed so.

He was holding his arms, lost in thought about something, not even noticing when she approached. This was truly rare.

The wooden-soled shoes stepped on withered parasol leaves, making crisp cracking sounds. Shao Yi immediately came back to his senses. His narrow phoenix eyes met Xuan Yi’s calm gaze. He squinted and looked for a moment, then smiled faintly.

“Little Loach, you’ve grown up.”