The gritty wind of the martial arena finally dispersed, taking the last of the day's sweltering heat with it. By the time the two reached Jiang Li's quarters, the sky had dimmed until only the mottled shadows of the walls remained. Jiang Li walked ahead, her steps light and silent, never looking back.
Cang Yaochen followed. The sleeves of his servant's tunic billowed in the wind, and with every few steps, a faint, suppressed cough escaped him.
The door was unlatched. With a gentle push from Jiang Li, it groaned open, sending flakes of peeling paint cascading onto her shoulders. She stepped aside, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Come in."
No lamp was lit. By the moonlight filtering through the window, the room's desolation was laid bare: a wooden table missing a leg, propped up by a half-brick; a chipped clay bowl sitting atop it, stained with traces of unwashed grain powder. Against the wall stood a bed made of rough planks, covered by a straw mat so worn its edges had frayed into white fuzz. There were no cabinets, no stools. The only clear space was a patch of dirt floor near the table, swept reasonably clean.
Cang Yaochen walked straight to the table and set the bag of Marrow-Cleansing Pills on the corner, carefully avoiding the unstable side. From a small cloth pouch at his waist, he pulled out a ceramic jar wrapped in old cotton. He knelt by the edge of the bed and looked up at Jiang Li. "Li'er, your hand."
It seems Deacon Lin's words were nothing but empty promises, Cang Yaochen thought bitterly as he prepared the medicine. How can a place like this be called 'protection' from the Elders? They didn't even give her a proper room.
Jiang Li didn't move at first. She stood frozen for a moment before slowly sitting on the edge of the bed and offering her injured elbow.
Cang Yaochen's fingertip, dabbed with ointment, touched the red scrape on her skin. It was cool, carrying a faint, divine warmth that instantly dissolved the stinging heat of the wound. Jiang Li lowered her gaze, her eyes falling on his hands. His knuckles were pale and trembling slightly—an obvious sign of the exhaustion from the martial arena. On the side of his finger was a fresh, thin cut; the scab had just fallen off, revealing tender pink flesh beneath. Now dampened by the ointment, it looked painfully vivid.
His movements were slow as he bandaged her. He had cut the strips from his own servant's sleeve; the edges were ragged, but the cloth was clean and carried a hint of incense. He wrapped it several times, fearing it might slip. Once finished, he pressed it gently to ensure it was secure before letting out a relieved sigh. "Keep it dry. It will scab over in a couple of days."
Jiang Li couldn't help but swallow hard. A thought drifted into her mind: This Monk Cang... is truly beautiful.
Cang Yaochen didn't rush to leave. He stood up, picked up a gap-toothed broom from the corner, and began sweeping the scattered straw from the floor. To reach under the bed, he had to bend deep to pry debris from the packed dirt. As he leaned forward, a muffled cough escaped him—not a clear, sharp sound, but a vibration suppressed deep in his throat. His shoulders hunched involuntarily, as if enduring some unbearable pain.
Jiang Li's grip on the straw mat tightened, her knuckles turning white. She watched as he swept the straw into a small pile, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and placed it in the corner to be used as tinder. Then, he moved to the window. Staring at the gaps where the wind whistled through, he remained silent for a moment before heading outside. He returned with a bundle of dry pine branches, meticulously stuffing them into the cracks until no draft remained.
"The roof leaks wind," he explained softly. "Plugging it will make it warmer."
Once finished, he took a small pouch from his pocket and poured out several grey, dusty seeds. Kneeling beneath the window, he began digging into the hard-packed earth with his bare fingers. The friction against the soil turned his calloused fingertips a raw red; he was clearly struggling with the frozen ground. After watching him for a while, Jiang Li finally couldn't take it anymore. She reached under the bed, pulled out a small bamboo twig she had found earlier, and held it out to him. Her voice was as thin as a mosquito's hum. "Use this."
Cang Yaochen looked up. His long lashes cast soft shadows in the moonlight, his eyes filled with his usual calm mercy. He smiled and took the twig. "Thank you, Li'er."
"These are Spirit-Soothe seeds," he said as he continued to dig. "When they bloom, they drive away dampness. You will sleep better then. I heard the disciples say that these outer shacks get very damp. These seeds are the best remedy."
Jiang Li remained silent, watching his back as he worked under the window. The moonlight bathed his pale profile, highlighting the beads of sweat sliding down his jawline to vanish into the dirt. She remembered the day at the arena; he had been so weak he could barely stand, yet he had effortlessly deflected the enemy's attack. That calm composure, she realized, had been entirely forced.
"I inhaled Calamity Ash while crossing the wasteland. It seeped into my meridians," Cang Yaochen explained tonelessly, as if sensing her gaze. "Every time I stir my Buddha Qi, the ash revolts. It looks worse than it is. I can endure it."
Jiang Li's heart wrenched. She remembered him carrying her across that desolate wasteland, his face expressionless the entire time, never complaining even when his robes were soaked with sweat. She had thought he simply had great stamina; she never knew that the Calamity Ash had been gnawing at his meridians the whole way while he suffered in silence. The Blood Lotus mark on her finger grew warm, as if echoing his divine power, or perhaps agitated by his stoicism. She said nothing, but she carved the realization deep into her heart.
Once the seeds were planted, Cang Yaochen stood up and clutched his chest, coughing harder this time. He turned away, quickly wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve before facing her again. His expression was neutral, as if the discomfort were a mere illusion. "I should go. I will check on you tomorrow."
"Wait." Jiang Li spoke suddenly. She stood up, rummaged through the pile of old clothes in the corner, and pulled out a handful of freshly dried Bitter-Thorn Grass. She rushed to him and shoved it into his hands. "This... is good for the throat."
Before he could react, she turned and ran back to the bed, sitting with her back to him. Her ears turned a soft pink as she pretended to tidy the mat.
Cang Yaochen looked at the grass in his hand, which still carried the warmth of the sun. He blinked, a trace of a gentle smile spreading in his eyes. "Thank you, Li'er," he whispered before turning to leave.
In the following days, an unspoken understanding formed between them. Jiang Li began to watch his face instinctively; if his cough was lighter, her mood improved. If it was heavy, she would silently shove an extra handful of grass into his robe.
One afternoon, Jiang Li overheard a group of disciples shouting near the back of the mountain.
"Did you hear? The top prize for this Sect Trial is Cleansing-Tribulation Grass!"
"The legendary herb that neutralizes a hundred poisons? It can even be traded for a residence on Spirit-Gathering Island!"
Cleansing-Tribulation Grass... neutralizes a hundred poisons.
Jiang Li's bamboo basket hit the ground with a heavy thud. Does the backlash of Calamity Ash count as a poison? If that grass can cure a hundred toxins, could it end his suffering?
Once the thought took root, it grew like wild weeds. She ran back to her shack, and while Cang Yaochen was bundling firewood, she spoke abruptly:
"I'm entering the Sect Trial." Jiang Li's eyes were burning with a brilliant fire.
Cang Yaochen's brows furrowed. "The Deep Forest is full of monsters and treacherous disciples. It's too dangerous."
"I'm not afraid." Jiang Li clenched her fists, her voice raspy but resolute. "I want the Cleansing-Tribulation Grass. It cures a hundred poisons... it will be useful to me."
She didn't say it was for him.
Cang Yaochen looked at her reddened ears and the desperate resolve in her eyes. He understood her heart instantly. He remained silent for a long moment, choosing not to expose her lie. Instead, he handed her a small bundle. "This is a demon-warding powder I prepared. If you encounter poisonous mist, scatter some to protect yourself. Li'er, do not push yourself. Your safety is what matters most. I will be here."
"I understand."
On the day of the trial, a thick mist choked the forest. Jiang Li carried her pack and entered the woods, avoiding the main paths. Using the powder and her own channeled Turbid Qi, she managed to fend off several low-level monsters.
However, as she neared the rocky terrain of the Abyssal Mirror fragments, the mist suddenly thickened. A terrifying silence fell; even the insects went still. Just as she stepped past a massive boulder, the ground beneath her gave way. Jiang Li plummeted into the darkness, her body falling into a bottomless void.