Chapter Thirty-Six: Yu Qing

After Li Ruoyu had dispatched his opponent, he was about to assist Yu Qing in dealing with the final enemy. But Yu Qing glanced at Li Ruoyu, her eyes filled with a proud determination, a spirit that brooked no weakness. In that look, Li Ruoyu understood—this was Yu Qing. Not only did she possess a simple heart and unwavering devotion to the Way, but she also held an inviolable dignity. That fleeting glance conveyed an indomitable will, a refusal to accept defeat—a heart that, though the road ahead was arduous, would press forward alone like an old wanderer.

Li Ruoyu withdrew to the side, standing ready to shield Yu Qing.

In Yu Qing’s hand, a dark sword seemed almost an extension of her body. With the manifestation of “Winter Plum Blossoms Bloom in the Cold,” she launched a fierce assault against the enemy’s Volcanic Dao Image, as if a moth plunging into the flames, fully aware of certain death, yet utterly without hesitation.

The adversary, clad in ancient black robes, exuded a wild madness, which, combined with his attire, gave him an air of utter lawlessness.

Though Li Ruoyu had stepped aside, his spiritual senses remained acutely attuned to the movements of both the black-robed man and Yu Qing. The man wielded the Volcanic Dao Image with consummate skill; his every move revealed a mastery bordering on perfection.

The Dao Image he summoned was called “Cremation,” a rite passed down from the ancient people, once used to honor their ancestors and now evolved through the currents of time.

The Volcanic Dao Image spewed forth thick smoke and ashes, encroaching upon the realm of “Winter Plum Blossoms Bloom in the Cold,” disrupting Yu Qing’s snowy domain. Yet Yu Qing’s sword, stroke after relentless stroke, pressed toward the black-robed man. Though a woman, her attack was anything but gentle—bold, sweeping, and dignified.

Yet even this wild, stormlike assault could not shake the black-robed man. In his madness, he revealed his unique, savage method of counterattack, parrying each strike.

Suddenly, Yu Qing’s Dao Image contracted, condensing into a single point at the tip of her sword. Abandoning all defense, she thrust straight for the man’s throat. Witnessing this, Li Ruoyu was startled—this was an all-out, desperate attack, devoid of any self-preservation; in that moment, it seemed Yu Qing, not the black-robed man, was the one gripped by madness.

The dark sword pierced through the Volcanic Dao Image’s defenses, driving remorselessly toward the man’s neck, its speed undiminished by the crematory power. The wildness in the man’s eyes faded, replaced by a fleeting clarity, as if Yu Qing’s attack made him sense a dead end ahead, calling him back to a moment of lucidity.

Though the man’s madness receded, his attacks grew only more frenzied. His right hand blazed with divine power as he struck at Yu Qing’s heart, making no attempt to dodge—a gambit of life for life.

At the crucial moment, Yu Qing’s body twisted just enough to avoid the fatal blow, yet she was still grievously wounded. The price was high, but her dark blade pierced the man’s throat.

Both Yu Qing and the black-robed man plummeted to the ground. Li Ruoyu hurriedly swept forward and caught Yu Qing in his arms. Her chest was stained with blood and she was unconscious.

During that desperate exchange, Li Ruoyu had wondered whether to intervene, but recalling the look in Yu Qing’s eyes, he had refrained.

Yu Qing had her own path, her own choices; Li Ruoyu could not decide for her.

There are countless roads in this world. Once you set foot upon one, you must walk it yourself—just as Yu Qing did, just as Sha Cangqiong did, just as Li Ruoyu himself must. All beings in this world come and go, each making their own choices—some right, some wrong, but ultimately, they are their own. The journey must be walked alone. Each person has their own will; what may seem well-intentioned to one may not be best for another. All we can do is offer aid when a friend is in need, not make their choices for them.

This was Li Ruoyu’s realization—something he once did not understand. But ten years in the Valley of Fallen Devils, struggling amidst the schemes of countless powers, and especially after his two encounters with Sha Cangqiong, had taught him that each person has the right to choose, and all we can do is respect that.

Cradling Yu Qing in his arms, Li Ruoyu gazed at her delicate features. The blood at the corner of her lips marred her otherwise peerless beauty. With gentle fingers, he wiped the blood away. Even now, her beauty rivaled Jing Hong’s, and Li Ruoyu could not help but sigh at her allure.

He found a safe place and gently laid the unconscious Yu Qing upon a great stone. Seeing the palm print upon her chest, Li Ruoyu frowned.

“Senior Sister, forgive me,” he murmured, apologizing softly as he loosened the clothing at her chest. Her fair skin made him inwardly mutter an apology. Upon her chest was a blood-darkened palm print, infused with a force that hindered her body’s recovery. Li Ruoyu called upon the Dao of Time, drawing the foreign power from the wound and expelling it from her body.

After the time of an incense stick, sweat beaded his brow. At last, he forced out the sun-natured power.

“What exhausting work—more tiring than a fight,” Li Ruoyu grumbled. Then he took an old medicinal herb, chewed it, and brought his lips close to Yu Qing’s, passing the medicine directly into her mouth. Just as the medicine was delivered, their lips touching, Yu Qing suddenly coughed—the medicine evidently irritating her throat.

At that very moment, Yu Qing’s eyes opened. The first thing she saw was Li Ruoyu’s face, and as the sensation on her lips registered, a surge of anger flared. She struck at him with her palm.

With a trace of medicine still in her mouth, Yu Qing could only gasp out, “You, you, you—” Her heaving chest betrayed her struggle to maintain composure. Glancing downward, she saw her exposed chest, and her reason was utterly swept away.

“Winter Plum Blossoms Bloom in the Cold” erupted as Yu Qing summoned her Dao Image, hurling it at Li Ruoyu.

Li Ruoyu, seeing the attack, quickly summoned “Desolate Tombs of the Wastes” to defend against her wrath.

At the same time, he hastened to explain, “Senior Sister, I only offended you in the process of saving you. Nothing else!”

“Nothing else?” Yu Qing echoed, shame and fury flooding her as she glanced at herself. Yet hearing his explanation, feeling the bitter medicine and sensing her healed wound, she finally regained her composure. She knew Li Ruoyu spoke the truth, yet embarrassment still burned her cheeks, leaving Li Ruoyu momentarily stunned by her blush.