Chapter 22

After lunch, Tu Shanxi invoked a cleansing spell and washed all the bowls and chopsticks on the table.

“Senior Sister, now that everything is settled and the formations are laid, I’ll return to the Thirty-Three Heavens soon,” Qingyuan said.

As soon as he finished speaking, Xiyun’s eyes brightened, though she tried to hide her excitement. At last, this fellow was leaving; finally, she could have time alone with her sister.

Her joy was so obvious that Qingyuan didn’t need to guess her thoughts, but he couldn’t be bothered to tease her. Instead, he took out a blood-red bracelet from his sleeve and handed it to Tu Shanxi.

“Senior Sister, this bracelet contains a strand of my sword intent. If you ever face mortal danger, it may save your life.”

Hearing that it held his sword intent, Tu Shanxi was startled. With his current strength, even a fraction would make the bracelet immensely powerful.

When she hesitated to take it, Qingyuan assumed she was reluctant and quickly said, “Senior Sister, it’s just a token of my concern. Please accept it. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease leaving you here. Who knows, now that the spiritual energy of Fierce Fang Mountain is restored, if some reckless person wanders in and offends you, what would happen then?”

“You’re right,” Tu Shanxi nodded thoughtfully, taking the bracelet. “Very well, I’ll accept it. Thank you.”

“As long as it keeps you safe, I’m willing to pay any price,” Qingyuan replied.

She smiled warmly. “I remember when the sect was bustling, you were always the most considerate, thinking of all the senior brothers and sisters.”

As she spoke, Tu Shanxi glanced at Xiyun beside her, as if to say, See? Qingyuan is always like this—he treats all his senior brothers and sisters this way, not just me.

Mentioning the departed seniors made Qingyuan’s smile falter. “Yes, if they were still here, seeing today’s peace would surely bring them comfort.”

...

After preparing the wooden sword for Xiyun, Qingyuan said his farewells to Tu Shanxi. At the doorway, Tu Shanxi looked up at the tall man before her and said, “Cultivate well. I’ll come back to visit you.”

“Senior Sister, you promised. Don’t forget me.”

Seeing his pitiful expression, Tu Shanxi couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t forget. You’re my only junior brother now, my only family. How could I forget you?”

“And you’re my only family, Senior Sister.”

Family or not, as long as he could stay by her side, nothing else mattered. No matter the relationship, as long as she remained, it was enough.

After seeing Qingyuan off, Tu Shanxi turned and walked toward the bamboo house.

When she arrived, Xiyun was already gripping her sword, practicing the sword techniques Qingyuan had left behind.

Seeing this, Tu Shanxi leaned against the bamboo door and watched intently.

...

To her surprise, each move looked quite authentic.

Inside, Xiyun finished a whole set of sword forms, swiftly sheathing her sword and exhaling deeply.

“So this is what wielding a sword feels like,” she said.

Just then, applause sounded from outside. She turned to see Tu Shanxi clapping, her eyes filled with admiration as she approached.

“Not bad. For your first time holding a sword, you did it beautifully. You have talent.”

Xiyun blushed under the praise. “Hehe, I was just playing around. Sister, you’re back so soon? Nothing happened on the way?”

Tu Shanxi shook her head and, hands behind her back, produced a bouquet of flowers from nowhere, holding it out to Xiyun.

A faint fragrance wafted over, and Xiyun looked delightedly at the bouquet and Tu Shanxi’s smiling eyes. “Sister?”

“I saw them on the way back and thought you’d like them, so I picked a few.”

“Thank you, Sister. I love them.”

“I’m glad you do.”

Tu Shanxi looked at Xiyun, her expression tinged with hesitation, as if unsure how to begin.

Xiyun noticed her dilemma and offered, “Sister, is there something you want to tell me?”

Tu Shanxi nodded.

“Then just say it. I trust you wouldn’t harm me.”

Hearing the trust in her voice, Tu Shanxi’s guilt deepened, but after much hesitation, she spoke.

“Xiyun, I know about your wager with Qingyuan.”

With that simple sentence, Xiyun’s smile vanished. “Did the Immortal Lord tell you?”

She nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to stop you.”

“My point is, on the day you go to kill him, could you tell me in advance? That way I can heal him in time and prevent his death.”

Tu Shanxi’s system screamed in her mind, warning her that Xiyun’s affection score was dropping.

Tu Shanxi took a deep breath. “Xiyun, I know you hate him, and I won’t stop you from seeking vengeance. I won’t interfere in your quest for justice.”

...

“But once you’ve had your revenge, I will go and heal him.”

Xiyun took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “Why?”

“To be honest, the cultivation journey is like this: you kill me, I kill you. In my time, I killed countless cultivators. Resources are limited; if you want the best, you have to eliminate those ahead of you, or you’ll be eliminated yourself.

Your experience is tragic, but I must say, if it had happened in my era or Qingyuan’s, it would hardly count as anything. The entire Nine-Tailed Fox clan wouldn’t come after me for you.

Do you know why?”

Tu Shanxi confronted her with the harshest truth.

Xiyun avoided her gaze, shaking her head. “No, I don’t want to know.”

“Because I’m more valuable, because I can elevate the Nine-Tailed Foxes to new heights. Unless the chief was your father, no one would risk offending me or Qingyuan for your sake.”

“But that’s not fair!”

“In chaotic times, absolute strength is the only fairness. And now, you can stand before me and talk of revenge because you live in an era of peace.

And this era of peace was created by the one you hate most.”

“So, after all that, you’re still trying to persuade me to give up,” Xiyun said.

Tu Shanxi shook her head. “You still don’t understand. Revenge is your affair, but I know you’ll never kill Qingyuan, though you might wound him.

Have you considered what would happen if word got out that Qingyuan was injured?”

“What—what would happen?”

Seeing her still trying to avoid reality, Tu Shanxi pressed on. “There are two or three cultivators at the divine peak now. If they learn that Qingyuan’s power has been damaged, wouldn’t they unite to attack him?

No matter the outcome, a great battle would be inevitable. If Qingyuan lost, those few would divide the power and trigger internal strife, reigniting wars everywhere. If Qingyuan won, he would still be gravely wounded, and the lesser factions would swarm in, repeating the cycle I just described.

Therefore,” Tu Shanxi paused, “the news of Qingyuan’s injury must never be leaked. I am the best healer and the safest option.

Xiyun, you wouldn’t want your personal vendetta to plunge the entire cultivation world back into civil war, would you?”