Xie Qingli remained perfectly composed. After receiving the medicine pot, he paused only briefly before tilting his head back and drinking the entire bowl in one swallow. Yun Nian, from the side, hurriedly tried to stop him. “It’s a little—” Yet before the word “hot” could leave her lips, the medicine was already gone, as a trace of brown liquid lingered at the corner of his mouth. Xie Qingli calmly lifted a hand and wiped it away with the edge of his sleeve. He was not worried that Yun Nian might poison him, as Xie Qingli was naturally sensitive to toxins; he could distinguish most poisons by scent alone. And what this bowl contained were merely ordinary antidotal herbs. Only… it was unbearably bitter.
Yun Nian looked at him cautiously as he put the bowl on the table. “That medicine was rather hot, and very bitter too. Are you alright?
” Xie Qingli smiled gently hearing this. “I’m fine, Senior Sister [Shijie — a respectful form of address used by a junior disciple toward an older female disciple within the same sect]. I’m already used to taking medicine.” The System could not help but sigh internally. [Poor thing. He must have suffered greatly before entering the sect.] Seeing his pale complexion beneath the moonlight, Yun Nian also felt a wave of tenderness rise within her chest.
So she glanced thoughtfully at the slender youth before saying, “Wait here a moment. I’ll get you something.” Lowering her head, she began rummaging through her Qiankun bag [Qiankun Dai — a magical storage pouch containing an independent pocket space, commonly used by cultivators].“I clearly remember putting it somewhere around here…” she muttered. The System immediately chimed in. [Honestly, can’t you organize your storage bag even once in your life? Must you live like this?]
Yun Nian ignored its rant entirely. Still, no one understood Yun Nian better than the System. It immediately guessed what she was searching for and began directing her. [There, there! Behind the shelf.] “Where? I can’t see it.” [Behind the shelf — third row! Behind that basket of peaches you stuffed in there!] “Ah… I think I found it…” As Yun Nian buried herself deeper into the clutter, Xie Qingli silently watched her. The moment her back was turned, the gentle smile he had been wearing disappeared completely. Beneath the pale moonlight, the youth’s expression turned cold and distant, his dark pupils carrying a faint chill.
“Found it!” The instant Yun Nian spoke, darkness flickered briefly through Xie Qingli’s eyes before his soft smile returned once more, flawless and polite. He watched as she lifted the object in her hands. It was a porcelain jar. Yun Nian held it up mysteriously, as though presenting some hidden treasure. Then slowly, she raised the lid. At the same moment, Xie Qingli’s fingers tightened silently inside his sleeve. So… she had finally stopped pretending? He had seen this trick before. Back at the Twelfth Gate [Shi’er Men — a cultivation faction or division within the sect world], there had been those who approached him under the guise of kindness, offering gifts or food laced with drugs meant to cripple his meridians[jingmai — the spiritual channels through which a cultivator circulates spiritual energy].
A trace of mockery appeared beneath his smile, and the warmth in his expression gradually cooled. Just before the lid fully opened, he quietly gathered spiritual energy within his palm. Then Yun Nian suddenly exclaimed brightly, “Ah! I forgot I still had this jar of honey candy!” Xie Qingli froze. The spiritual energy he had just gathered dispersed instantly. Yun Nian, on the other hand, happily held the porcelain jar out toward him.
“My Third Senior Brother [San Shixiong — third elder male disciple-brother within the sect hierarchy] brought this back for me from Jiangnan [a prosperous southern river region famed for delicate sweets, silk, and refined culture]. . It melts in your mouth and tastes incredibly sweet!” Inside the small jar were crystal-clear honey candies, round and glistening like polished amber. Even from a distance, he could smell their rich sweetness. There was no poison. No hidden trick in it. Only ordinary candy. “I didn’t pack any preserved fruits in my Qiankun bag,” Yun Nian said earnestly. “Junior Brother Xie [Shidi — younger male disciple-brother, have some honey candy instead. It’ll help with the bitterness.”
Xie Qingli had always disliked sweet things. Those childish treats had long ceased to interest him years ago. So he gently pushed the jar back toward her. “There’s no need, Senior Sister Yun.” The System quietly explained: [Xie Qingli doesn’t have an easy life at the Twelfth Gate. Sometimes even his own senior brothers tamper with his meals, so he rarely accepts food from others.]
Yun Nian looked into the youth’s soft yet distant eyes and understanding dawned upon her immediately. The poor little thing was afraid she might poison him.
Suddenly meeting the deeply sympathetic gaze she directed at him, Xie Qingli could not help thinking: …What kind of expression is that? Without another word, Yun Nian put away the candy jar, casually picked out a piece for herself, and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes curved happily as she chewed. “See? It’s really sweet.” Xie Qingli began politely refusing again. “Senior Sister Yun, I truly don’t—” But before he could finish speaking, Yun Nian swiftly picked up another candy and pressed it directly against his lips. The candy melted instantly upon contact with his mouth.
The sweetness spread slowly across his tongue, washing away the lingering bitterness of the medicine almost immediately. For a fleeting moment, it reminded him of the candies he had eaten many years ago. It had truly been… many years since he last tasted something this sweet.
On the side, Yun Nian looked at him with smiling eyes; at that moment, she looked as sly as a little fox. “Well? Isn’t it sweet?” Xie Qingli’s throat moved faintly as the candy dissolved completely between his lips and teeth. It was peach-flavored. Far too sweet. Sweet enough to almost make him uncomfortable. He genuinely could not understand why Yun Nian enjoyed such things so much.
He shifted his gaze aside and smiled lightly. “Yes. Very sweet. Thank you, Senior Sister Yun.” Yun Nian waved dismissively, then immediately began digging through her Qiankun bag again, somehow managing to transform the already chaotic storage space into something resembling a disaster site. The System seemed utterly horrified seeing the state of the storage space.
Moments later, Xie Qingli watched her pull out— mung bean cakes, plum blossom cheese pastries [a delicate milk dessert shaped like plum blossoms, often associated with refined noble cuisine], dragon beard candy [an intricate imperial sweet made from thousands of sugar strands], salt-and-pepper chicken, four-happiness meatballs [Sixi Wanzi — a traditional celebratory dish symbolizing joy and prosperity], green bamboo tea, and several unfamiliar snacks even system could not identify.
Even someone as composed as Xie Qingli could not stop the faint twitch at the corner of his eye seeing this scene. Once the entire stone table in the courtyard was overflowing with food, Yun Nian stared silently at the chaotic mountain of dishes. “…Something feels off.” Then, right before Xie Qingli’s eyes, she produced yet another Qiankun bag and carefully transferred all the food into it instead. This time, however, she thoughtfully arranged everything in order, making it look at least somewhat respectable.
The System sneered immediately. [So you do have a sense of dignity after all.] Yun Nian lifted her chin proudly. “Of course. In the martial world [Jianghu — the wandering society of martial artists and cultivators], reputation is built with one’s own hands.” Inside a Qiankun bag, time remained frozen. Food placed within stayed exactly as fresh as the moment it entered, never spoiling regardless of how long it was stored.
So after finally tidying everything, Yun Nian handed the Qiankun bag over to him. “Here, Junior Brother Xie. Take it.” Then she looked him up and down carefully, her expression turning unexpectedly serious. “Junior Brother Xie, there’s an old saying — ‘Those who can eat are heroes.’ Besides, people always put on weight when living in Jianghu. From now on, just treat Taxue Peak [Taxue Feng — the mountain peak or residence under a cultivation master’s lineage] as your home. Eat whatever you want whenever you’re here.”
Xie Qingli: “…”
Seeing that Xie Qingli still did not accept the Qiankun bag, Yun Nian assumed he was merely being polite. Without hesitation, she reached out, took his hand, and pressed the small pouch firmly into his palm. “Now go rest early tonight,” she said naturally. “I live in the side courtyard about a li south of here [li — a traditional Chinese unit of distance, roughly half a kilometer]. If you need anything, just come find me.” After speaking, she rose to her feet and gathered the medicine pot from the stone table. But before leaving, she turned back to glance at Xie Qingli, who still stood quietly beneath the moonlight.
“Oh, right. Elder Yuan Qing [Zhanglao — a respected elder within the cultivation sect hierarchy] from the Twelfth Sect came by this afternoon. My Shizun [Shizun — one’s master or teacher, addressed with deep reverence] and I already informed them about Chang Xuan and the other three. Your injuries are undeniable evidence, and Elder Yuan Qing also questioned the disciples from the Twelfth Sect…”
The disciples had revealed everything. Chang Xuan and the others had long bullied Xie Qingli within the Twelfth Gate [Shi’er Men — a branch division within the sect]. They forced him to sweep mountainsides, copy punishment texts, and shoulder blame for their own repeated violations of sect law. Drinking, fighting, breaking regulations — every offense had ultimately been pushed onto Xie Qingli, allowing the disciplinary stewards [disciples responsible for enforcing sect rules and punishments] to punish him in their stead. There had even been an attempt to secretly drug him and destroy his meridians [jingmai — the internal spiritual channels vital for cultivation]. Yet because Chang Xuan’s family belonged to a collateral branch of the imperial clan [a lesser branch connected by blood to the royal family], many within the sect had chosen silence over justice.
Only now did Yun Nian truly realize how much Xie Qingli had endured. Her lips pressed together tightly before she finally said, “With the previous incidents added together, the elders of the Twelfth Sect sentenced Chang Xuan and the other three to one hundred lashes. They’ve been expelled from the Xuanmiao Sword Sect [Xuanmiao Jianzong — a prestigious cultivation sect specializing in sword cultivation] and permanently forbidden from entering the Three Sects, Six Schools, and Fourteen Palaces [a collective title referring to the major cultivation factions of the realm] ever again.” Xie Qingli slowly rose to his feet.
A gentle smile remained on his face as he softly asked, “And where are Senior Brother Chang [Shixiong — older male disciple-brother] and the others now?” Yun Nian replied, “They received their punishment today. They’ll likely be packing their belongings and descending the mountain tomorrow.”
“I see…” His voice faded quietly, almost like a sigh carried away by the wind. As he stand there loose strands of dark hair fell across his eyes, concealing the shadows hidden beneath them. Seeing his calm demeanor, Yun Nian finally relaxed a little. “You don’t need to worry about them anymore, Junior Brother Xie. Since they’ve been expelled from Xuanmiao Sword Sect, they’ll never cultivate again. This is simply the consequence of their own actions.”
Xie Qingli lowered his eyes slightly and forced another gentle smile. “I understand, Senior Sister Yun.” Yun Nian smiled brightly in return. “Then I’ll head back now. Rest early.” The girl turned and walked toward the courtyard gate. Her black hair cascaded down her back, decorated with soft rabbit-shaped hair ornaments that swayed lightly with each step. Beneath the moonlight, her pale blue robes fluttered softly, the hem of her skirt moving like ripples across water. Xie Qingli silently watched her walk away.
She had already stepped past the courtyard gate when she suddenly stopped and turned back. His mask remained flawless—the same refined, gentle smile without a single crack. Standing beneath the moonlit sky, Yun Nian looked directly at him and said with absolute certainty, “Don’t worry. I know you want to participate in the upcoming trial of the Ancient Tomb Sword Ruins.”
She paused, her voice softening. “I’ll definitely find a way to cure that fire poison in your meridians.”[a destructive spiritual toxin caused by violent flame energy invading the meridians].”
“And as for the trials themselves…” Her eyes curved into a bright smile. “I believe you will absolutely emerge as the victor.”
With that, she finally turned and vanished into the night.
The evening wind carried a faint, biting chill. Taxue Peak stood far too high above the clouds, where cold mist constantly drifted and lingered among the jagged cliffs. Even in early summer, the mountain air here remained cool, far crisper than the humid lowlands of the Twelfth Gate. Yet compared to that chaotic outer division, this place was quieter. Cleaner. It was peaceful enough to hear the distant, lonely cries of insects hidden within the grass.
In the silence of the courtyard, Xie Qingli looked down at the small, delicate Qiankun bag in his hand—a storage pouch clearly designed in the style favored by young female cultivators. He lowered his gaze and opened it. Inside, the food had been arranged with surprising, almost tender care, every item neatly organized for easy access. And tucked quietly into the deepest corner was a single spirit pearl.
It was a Spirit Fire Pearl—a rare, coveted treasure that emitted a gentle, steady warmth to protect its master from severe frost. Even a single one was worth thousands of high-grade spirit stones on the market.
The courtyard remained utterly silent.
The courtyard remained utterly still. Xie Qingli stood there for a very long time, his fingers slowly tightening around the fabric of the bag. Then, at last, the corners of his lips lifted slightly. A quiet, self-deprecating laugh escaped from him. He closed the bag once more, but he did not take out the warming pearl. Instead, the young man turned, retreated into his dim chamber, and shut the heavy wooden door behind him, locking the moonlight out.
Inside the shadows of the room, he sat cross-legged upon the bed and closed his eyes. Almost instantly, cold sweat broke out across his forehead. Veins surfaced sharply beneath his pale skin as he forcefully suppressed the violent, chaotic turbulence within his body. His meridians reversed painfully under the strain, turning his own spiritual energy into countless invisible blades that scraped mercilessly through the fire poison embedded deep within his flesh.
Again and again, he forced the energy through. It was an agonizing process, as though he were carving his own flesh from the bone with his own hands. He showed himself no mercy whatsoever.
The wound across his shoulder split open once more, and fresh blood seeped slowly through the white fabric of his robes, staining them crimson little by little. Frost gradually gathered along his tightly drawn brows, and his face turned as pale as the snow outside.
Yet throughout the dark room, there was no sound at all. No groans, no gasps of pain. Only a heavy, suffocating silence.
And in the far corner beside the bed, the small, gentle pouch lay quietly alone in the dark.
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