Wen Shubai's face was deathly pale, and there was a taste of rust in his throat, but the strength in his hands did not waver in the slightest.
The spiritual power of the Ice Marrow Pill began to spread through Ji Zhaoxi's body. She was in so much pain that she let out soft sobs. Wen Shubai gently pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring scriptures under his breath.
At this moment, the Tianjue Sect was still quiet. The cranes rested by the pond, and a faint aura of spiritual energy circled the mountains.
The Second Elder lay comfortably on his bed. What delighted him most was that all the other disciples had gone out for training. Normally, the disciples of the Tianjue Sect would start their drills at dawn, making such a racket that it was hard to bear.
Meanwhile, Liuli sat upright at the table by the window with a serious expression. She was about to start writing Ji Zhaoxi's biography again.
[Having gained spiritual power, Immortal Ji is now invincible. She was already the most gifted person in the world, and now with her spiritual energy restored, even if all the other disciples attacked her at once, they still couldn't defeat her.]
[Immortal Ji's former enemy Liu Fuyin is now full of admiration for her and often comes to seek her guidance on various questions.]
After finishing writing, Liuli glanced at the sky and trudged off to the back mountain to pick up her meal.
A servant poked his head out on the back mountain: "Liuli, when are the disciples of the Tianjue Sect coming back?"
Their Drunken Immortal Pavilion relied on the new disciples for income—those who had been training for years had already achieved fasting and wouldn't even touch food.
Liuli hugged her lunchbox and frowned slightly: "They should be back soon."
Her young mistress had gone with the senior disciple. With how efficient he was, they would surely finish the mission quickly.
At the bottom of the abyss, the bitter wind was completely blocked off, and a faint warmth lingered in the air.
Ji Zhaoxi opened her eyes in a daze. She felt a lightness all over her body that she had never experienced before—even lighter than the first time she had used a divine artifact.
The chill in her body had disappeared, and there was a warm current flowing in her dantian.
She sat up with some effort, hugging the moon-white outer robe that carried a faint cool fragrance. Not far away, Wen Shubai sat with his eyes closed on a withered rock.
Ji Zhaoxi froze for a moment. She held her breath and crept toward him, inching closer and closer until she was right in front of him.
Wen Shubai's face was still very pale, his lashes lowered, casting a shadow beneath his eyes.
Ji Zhaoxi carefully reached out a finger and held it under his nose, trying to check if he was still breathing.
One second, two seconds...
Ji Zhaoxi's brows knitted tighter and tighter. The senior disciple wasn't breathing!
Just as Ji Zhaoxi was about to lean in closer, Wen Shubai's eyes opened without any warning.
Startled, Ji Zhaoxi tried to pull her hand back, but before she could, Wen Shubai's hand gently caught hers.
There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, and his voice carried a trace of helplessness: "Little junior sister, I'm not dead yet."
Wen Shubai looked at her flushed face, then casually ruffled her hair. His voice was still a little hoarse: "Is there anywhere you feel unwell?"
Ji Zhaoxi shook her head, hugging Wen Shubai's life-bound sword beside her.
Wen Shubai's body had not yet recovered, so he went back to meditating. Ji Zhaoxi was also a little tired, resting her head against his shoulder.
She felt that her body was oddly cool, but it was a comfortable kind of cool...
She idly played with her fingers, feeling a tingling sensation in her fingertips. She remembered the hand seals she had seen other disciples make, and casually pointed at something in the distance.
She didn't expect anything to happen—after all, her artifacts were all gone—but the next second, a streak of blue light burst from her fingertip, and the block of ice in front of her instantly shattered into powder.
Ji Zhaoxi yanked her hand back in fright, staring at the destruction in disbelief.
"Senior disciple, I have spiritual power now!"
Ji Zhaoxi grabbed Wen Shubai's arm excitedly, shaking it back and forth as she pressed almost her entire body against him, her eyes sparkling brightly.
"Senior disciple, you were right, I really am a genius! I used to doubt you, but now I can finally train like the other disciples..."
Wen Shubai's eyes were full of warmth. His other hand steadied her firmly, and he said softly, "Then in the future, little junior sister will be able to cultivate properly."
Ji Zhaoxi was overjoyed, but the very next second, she stumbled into a pair of Wen Shubai's gentle eyes.
He smiled at her, his brows curving with pure affection, those eyes reflecting only her image and no one else.
Ji Zhaoxi's heart missed a beat.
She stammered: "S-senior disciple, when do we set off?"
Flustered, she let go of his arm and quickly hugged the life-bound sword instead.
Wen Shubai looked at her flushed face. Though he didn't know what she was thinking, a softness welled up in his chest.
"Little junior sister, allow me to recover some of my strength, and then we'll leave together, alright?"
Ji Zhaoxi picked at the patterns on the life-bound sword, nodding glumly.
Having spiritual power wasn't all that great after all—her heart just felt restless!
The night at the bottom of the abyss was even colder than the day. Withered wood crackled in the fire, flames dancing across the rock walls, casting their two long shadows.
Wen Shubai leaned against a boulder, one leg bent, the outer robe draped over Ji Zhaoxi, tucking her snugly into his embrace.
She seemed to be dreaming of something, her grip on his clothes tightening. Wen Shubai lowered his head, pressing his cheek against her forehead, his fingers threading through her hair as he gently stroked her.
Her breathing finally evened out again. Her face was slightly reddened from the firelight, and Wen Shubai's gaze lingered on her lips for a moment before he quickly looked away.
"Senior disciple..."
Wen Shubai paused, softening his voice, his hand caressing her cheek: "I'm here."
Outside, the snow and wind did not stop, blurring the line between day and night. Cracks kept splitting through the ice beneath their feet, while the disciples of the Tianjue Sect had fallen into complete despair.
They collapsed in the snow, the cold poison fully invading their meridians. Every breath they took carried a strong smell of blood.
One disciple's fingers had already turned completely black, and he kept clawing at the ice surface. Triangular Eyes' consciousness was also starting to fade.
Just as they were about to lose consciousness, several blurred figures appeared in the wind and snow, draped in cloaks covered in runes.
"Elder, there are a few more who snuck in on their own," said a hoarse voice.
The collapsed Tianjue Sect disciples were filled with despair. Of all the situations to run into, meeting these people meant they might really die here.
A tall figure walked over, lifting Triangular Eyes like a piece of cargo and tossing him onto an ice sled.
"Take them all out..."
The disciples of the Tianjue Sect, who prided themselves on being a righteous sect, were now thrown onto that sled like slabs of rotten meat, squeezed in alongside the carcasses of low-level demonic beasts.
The wind still howled, and snow was everywhere. But to these figures in cloaks, the whole scene was met with nothing but chilling calm.
