This was the first time in Yun Jinghe’s life that someone had cupped her face like this, yet she found herself inexplicably amused.
It seemed that when confronted with situations beyond one’s usual comprehension, laughter truly could emerge involuntarily.
“What are you laughing at?” Shi Ying frowned slightly, her nose wrinkling in a way that added a touch of charm to her expression.
Yun Jinghe reached up and gently pulled Shi Ying’s hands away, the smile on her lips fading gradually. “Miss Shi, how old are you?”
“Eighteen.” Shi Ying didn’t understand why she was being asked this but answered nonetheless.
Moreover, this was one of the few truths she had spoken.
Upon hearing her reply, Yun Jinghe mused silently. In the mortal world, girls were considered adults at fifteen, and by eighteen, most would already be married.
But to a cultivator, the number eighteen was but a fleeting moment in the vast river of time.
“Miss Shi, I understand your eagerness to find a good match, but please don’t rush into it.” Yun Jinghe thought that perhaps, as someone alone in the world, Shi Ying had never been taught proper conduct, which explained her bold and naive behavior.
Yet Yun Jinghe herself, though older, wasn’t much better in this regard and couldn’t offer any truly useful advice.
Besides, mortals had limited lifespans, they had to accomplish many things within a short time. Cultivators, on the other hand, lived much longer, so the usual counsel of focusing on cultivation didn’t seem fitting for Shi Ying.
Shi Ying, however, found the cultivator’s words odd, though she didn’t dwell on it. What concerned her was why this cultivator wouldn’t agree to her proposal.
“Is it that hard to be your partner?”
Instead of answering, Yun Jinghe said, “You’re still very young.”
“I know. Do you not like younger people?” Shi Ying pressed.
The question left Yun Jinghe momentarily speechless. She rephrased her thoughts: “I’m older than you.”
“Oh,” Shi Ying replied, as if recalling something. “Then from now on, I’ll call you ‘Elder Sister.’”
She had noticed in the dreams she devoured that people often addressed young, beautiful women as “dear sister,” and those called as such would always giggle delightedly. Presumably, they liked it very much.
Yun Jinghe felt increasingly unable to continue this conversation. Shi Ying’s words seemed impulsive, lacking any semblance of seriousness.
Her proposal to become Yun Jinghe’s partner was likely just a careless jest perhaps Yun Jinghe was the one overthinking it.
“You may call me that, but nothing more,” Yun Jinghe conceded.
Shi Ying had intended to press further, but then she remembered similar back-and-forth exchanges in the dreams she had consumed.
Wasn’t this called, playing hard to get?
Though something about it felt slightly different, she couldn’t quite pinpoint the distinction.
“Fine, let’s leave it at that for now,” Shi Ying decided to table the discussion.
Yun Jinghe breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She couldn’t think of any meaningful words to dissuade Shi Ying at the moment, so it was best to let the matter rest.
Having just taken her medicine, she needed to meditate and focus on recovering her strength as quickly as possible. Thus, she told Shi Ying she wished to rest.
Shi Ying agreed readily, though she showed no intention of leaving the room.
Yun Jinghe thought little of it mortals couldn’t see the spiritual energy swirling around a cultivator during meditation anyway so she said nothing more.
She returned to the bed and sat cross-legged, closing her eyes to begin her meditation. Yet the process did not go smoothly.
The spiritual meridians within her body were sluggish and difficult to circulate, making even a simple minor celestial cycle nearly impossible to complete.
As time passed, a fine layer of sweat gradually formed on her forehead, and her already pale complexion grew even more translucent.
Meanwhile, Shi Ying sat idly in a chair, her eyes darting restlessly toward Yun Jinghe on the bed, lost in thought.
The next moment, she suddenly rose quietly and walked toward Yun Jinghe.
A faint crease formed between Yun Jinghe’s brows, her thin lips pressed together, clear signs of her troubled meditation.
“Big sis, do you want to eat?” Shi Ying asked as she approached.
At the sound of her voice, Yun Jinghe tilted her head slightly, her ears twitching, but she neither opened her eyes nor responded.
She was wholly focused on regulating her breath, filtering out most external noise, so she didn’t hear Shi Ying’s question.
Shi Ying quickly realized this and, with a mischievous glint, leaned close to her ear, taking a light breath before whispering, “Big sis!”
The warm breath brushed against her ear, and Yun Jinghe’s eyes snapped open. In one swift motion, she seized Shi Ying’s arm, twisted it behind her back, and pinned her down onto the bed.
Yun Jinghe’s movements were fluid and precise even without her sight, there was no hindrance.
“Ow, that hurts!” Shi Ying’s voice was muffled, half her face buried in the bedding.
Recognizing her voice, Yun Jinghe immediately released her grip, though she had to brace herself with one hand on the bed to keep from collapsing.
“Apologies, I didn’t realize it was you,” she said hoarsely, sweat dampening her temples, her body swaying unsteadily.
Her actions had been purely instinctive, a reflexive response to perceived danger. Her body moved faster than her thoughts, and sometimes, she couldn’t fully control it.
Freed, Shi Ying scrambled up quickly, playing the victim first. “I just wanted to ask if you were hungry! No need to be so rough!”
This wasn’t the first time. Back when she had first found Yun Jinghe in the forest, the same thing had happened her arm pressed against Shi Ying’s throat, nearly suffocating the powerless little dream demon.
Both of them lacked spiritual power and demonic energy, so why was the difference in strength still so vast? Shi Ying couldn’t help but feel indignant.
Yun Jinghe steadied herself and apologized again.
“Miss Shi, it’s best not to approach me at times like this. It’s dangerous.” The sudden disturbance had nearly disrupted her breathing, though thankfully, no serious harm was done.
Shi Ying huffed in response, though inwardly, she vowed to do it again next time.
Yun Jinghe recalled her earlier question. “What time is it now?”
Shi Ying glanced outside at the overcast sky. “Noon, probably.”
Yun Jinghe considered this. Ordinary people relied on grains for sustenance, while cultivators substituted them with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, fasting from mortal food.
But now, she was just an ordinary person. She should eat.
“Alright.”
Shi Ying was still rubbing her arm and gave her a puzzled look. “Alright what?”
“Didn’t you mention eating?” Yun Jinghe said.
Shi Ying climbed off the bed, grumbling, “Eat what? It’s not like you’ll starve to death anyway.”
If this woman could die from hunger, she wouldn’t be in such a predicament.
With that, Shi Ying stormed off, slamming the door behind her moments later.
Yun Jinghe knew she had somehow upset her, but even if she wanted to chase after her, she lacked the strength. Slowly straightening up, she reached for her wound.
The effects of the medicine seemed slower this time, and there was still no sign of her spiritual power recovering. At this rate, it was hard to say how much longer she’d have to stay here.
She lifted her head and looked ahead, but all she could see was an oppressive darkness. Perhaps the matter of her spiritual power could be set aside for now, the immediate priority was to restore her vision first.
Yun Jinghe closed her eyes again and began regulating her breath, though this time she kept a sliver of awareness focused on her surroundings to avoid accidentally harming Shi Ying again.
But this time, after a long while, Shi Ying still hadn’t reappeared.
At that moment, Shi Ying was standing in the kitchen, fanning away the choking smoke in the room, when a tiny green-horned frog, no taller than half a finger, hopped out from a corner.
“What brings you here?” Shi Ying crouched down and poked the frog’s green horn, smiling. “Did Wu Feng send you to find me?”
“Lady Wu Feng asked me to tell you that she’s almost gathered all the materials on her end and is just waiting for you now.”
The little frog had only recently gained sentience, but because of its ability to travel a thousand miles in a single leap, Lady Wu Feng often used it to relay messages.
“Got it, got it,” Shi Ying said, resting her chin on one hand. “No need to rush. I’ve found a better option than a demon core, it just needs a bit more time. That person’s being a bit stubborn.”
Now, she either had to wait for the other party to die or remove that troublesome necklace before they regained their cultivation.
But the first option seemed difficult at the moment, so she was prepared to try the second.
“Lady Wu Feng likes to turn stubborn people into corpse puppets,” the little frog tilted its tiny head. “Little Auntie, what are you doing now?”
“Cooking for that stubborn person, of course,” Shi Ying grumbled.
Humans were creatures that needed to be “coaxed”, at least, that’s what she’d learned from those dreams. She figured Yun Jinghe hadn’t agreed to be her partner yet because she hadn’t been “coaxed” enough.
In the dreams she’d consumed, once those humans were coaxed into happiness, they were willing to give their hearts, livers, and lungs to the other person.
The little frog looked at the contents of the pot and let out a “ribbit,” somewhat reminiscent of Lady Wu Feng refining ingredients in her Immortal King Cauldron. Suddenly enlightened, it said, “Oh, Little Auntie, are you trying to poison them?”
Back in the room, Yun Jinghe opened her eyes again. The sound of rain outside muffled any other noises.
Groping her way forward, Yun Jinghe got out of bed to look for Shi Ying.
She had just put on her shoes and reached the table when she heard the door creak open. Shi Ying entered, coughing softly, followed by a dull thud as something was placed on the table.
A faintly charred, bitter scent reached Yun Jinghe’s nose, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease.
Shi Ying covered her mouth, coughing twice. “Eat.”
Yun Jinghe reached out, her fingers brushing against a cool bowl, then something, impossibly hard. Its surface was covered in fine, brittle fragments that crumbled into powder at the slightest touch, like the charred shell of something burnt.
With genuine curiosity, Yun Jinghe asked, “Miss Shi, what is this?”
Shi Ying’s answer was shocking: “Steamed buns and rice porridge.”
“……” Yun Jinghe ran her fingers over the “steamed bun,” whose hardness rivaled the guardian stone at the entrance of Taicang Mountain, and for once, her expression showed a trace of difficulty. “Actually, I’m not very hungry.”
“No way! I specially made this for you!” Shi Ying coughed twice in her excitement.
She didn’t even need to eat this was her first time cooking! This wasn’t just any ordinary steamed bun, it was one she’d personally reheated!
The problem was that controlling the heat was too difficult, and the firewood outside, dampened by the rain, was hard to ignite and produced thick smoke that made her eyes water.
Fortunately, dream demons were born without tears.
Faced with Shi Ying’s “heartfelt effort,” Yun Jinghe found herself at a loss. She could hardly imagine how this girl had managed to survive until now.
Just as she reluctantly reached out to take something, Yun Jinghe suddenly turned her face toward Shi Ying and asked, “Miss Shi, have you eaten yet?”
Shi Ying hadn’t expected such a question out of the blue and, caught off guard, answered truthfully, “No, not yet.”
Yun Jinghe breathed a sigh of relief. “Then you should eat first.”
In the end, the steamed bun that Shi Ying had pinned her hopes on was eaten by no one. Its final resting place was beneath the stove, bearing a few of Shi Ying’s footprints.
The rain outside gradually stopped.
Blind and thus deprived of her sense of time, Yun Jinghe spent most of the day meditating indoors.
Shi Ying had been in the house at first but later disappeared somewhere. As long as she wasn’t cooking, Yun Jinghe wasn’t particularly worried.
In the afternoon, Shi Ying came to ask if she wanted to eat again. This time, Yun Jinghe refused without hesitation.
Shi Ying sounded a little displeased but didn’t press the matter.
Yun Jinghe was genuinely relieved, she would rather slay ten evil demons than eat that bun.
By evening, it was time to rest.
Yun Jinghe had already prepared herself for the possibility of sharing a room, planning to find a quiet spot to meditate while leaving the bed to Shi Ying, the host.
But Shi Ying said she had her own place to sleep. Assuming she would stay next door, Yun Jinghe didn’t inquire further.
The night here was quiet, occasionally punctuated by distant barks from dogs.
Lying in bed, Yun Jinghe remained alert to her surroundings. Earlier, while feeling her way around the room, she had touched the walls and realized they were made of the most common rural mud bricks, hardly soundproof.
Shi Ying next door seemed to have fallen asleep early, as no sounds came from her side.
The blood loss from her injuries had taken its toll on Yun Jinghe. She had intended to meditate through the night but eventually succumbed to deep drowsiness.
The next morning, she was awakened by the crowing of a rooster.
Opening her eyes, she was met with the same familiar darkness, unchanged. Her spiritual veins remained empty.
The only good news was that her wounds hurt less they were healing.
Without spiritual power, she couldn’t use cleansing spells, so Yun Jinghe decided to fetch water from the outdoor vat to wash up.
Shi Ying had taken her there once before bedtime, and she still remembered the route and the layout.
On her way out, she moved as quietly as possible, careful not to disturb Shi Ying next door.
The air outside was slightly cool, carrying a damp, refreshing chill.
Yun Jinghe reached the water vat without issue and was about to draw water when she heard a creaking sound, the gate being pushed open from the left.
“Miss Shi?” Yun Jinghe called out tentatively.
Shi Ying’s voice came from not far away. “You’re up so early.”
Her tone lacked any morning grogginess, instead sounding quite pleased.
Freshly fed and content, Shi Ying was in high spirits so much so that she even came over to help Yun Jinghe draw water.
As Yun Jinghe drew closer, her keen sense of smell caught a whiff of powder and rouge, a cloying, pungent mix of fragrances.
Yet Shi Ying remained completely oblivious.
Yun Jinghe finished washing up calmly and returned to the room, then asked Shi Ying to fetch her medicine again.
It was the same two types as yesterday, but this time, Shi Ying handed her two different pills.
Just as Yun Jinghe was about to take them, she suddenly paused, her brow furrowing slightly. “These aren’t the right ones.”