Chapter Twenty-Four: The More Pots, the Merrier

When everyone had left, a figure in black with a hood suddenly appeared atop the ridge of the city tower. The weathered blue-gray tiles reflected the mottled marks of time under the sunlight.

The figure slowly pulled back the hood, revealing the long-absent Chunjian. With a turn of his hand, he produced the “Chronicles of the Otherworlds.” As a gentle breeze swept by, his black cloak and hood dissolved into a verdant bamboo umbrella spinning above his head.

He murmured, seemingly to himself, “I’ve gone to such lengths to orchestrate all this; it’s time for you to show a little sincerity as well.” Bai Li Suhe, how many more surprises can you bring me?

A faint laugh echoed, and in a blink, the figure vanished. Yet within the Xiaotong River basin, where immortals passed by not far away, none noticed that anyone had come or gone.

Life continued as usual. In the teahouses and taverns, small groups here and there inevitably spoke of Shooting Star Tower, sighing and lamenting. No matter how many ages you conquer, in the end… you cannot escape a mound of earth raised high over your head.

The more they talked, the more sorrow welled up. Eventually, they paid for their drinks, called for friends, and went home to drink in companionship. But on their way, each of them was suddenly plunged into darkness. After a few swishing sounds, their heads rolled to the roadside, eyes wide open in death, never knowing who had killed them.

When the news spread, what was already a bizarre case of annihilation became shrouded in yet another layer of mystery. Those who might speak dared not; those who might discuss it lacked the courage.

Elsewhere, after his success, Fu Qingfeng hurried back toward Weiye Valley. But passing through Shiliang Mountain, he was forced to land his cloud. He released the three from the Autumn Wind Ring. As soon as Suhe emerged, he collapsed to the ground.

“Hey? Are you alright…” Huai Yin, who had just come out as well, was alarmed. But with Yi Qingchen on his back, he couldn’t free his hands to help.

Fortunately, Fu Qingfeng acted quickly and caught Suhe. “I’ll carry you,” he said, grabbing Suhe’s arm and slinging it over his own shoulders.

“No… it’s alright, I can manage,” Suhe protested, turning his head to spit out a mouthful of crimson on the ground, pushing his friend away, unwilling to cause him trouble. He was a lover of cleanliness and didn’t want to soil his friend’s clothes with blood.

“Is this really the time to fuss over such things? Are you trying to ruin my reputation with all this dithering?” Fu Qingfeng, seeing through his thoughts, grew irritated.

Just then, a familiar, infuriating voice rang out. “Told you, that won’t work. Let me do it.” As he spoke, his hand reached for his blade.

“Don’t you dare!” Fu Qingfeng snapped, whirling around.

Huai Yin asked, “Who’s this?”

“Don’t mind him. Let’s go.” With that, Fu Qingfeng tried to hoist Suhe up forcibly.

But Xian Ge Yue moved even faster, snatching Suhe away to carry on his own back. With an air of pride he said, “Let’s go. I don’t usually carry people, you know. This is all for you—understand?”

He wasn’t lying. Since he could remember, he’d never carried anyone before.

Fu Qingfeng stood unmoving, clearly vexed by Xian Ge Yue’s provocation. Xian Ge Yue’s eyes shimmered mischievously. Clearing his throat, he called, “If we don’t hurry, he won’t last.”

Huai Yin saw Suhe’s state and quickly urged, “Mister Qingfeng, let’s save him first. If we delay, we might regret it.”

Fu Qingfeng glanced at Suhe, then at Xian Ge Yue, finally swallowing his anger. Summoning a cloud, he brought everyone back.

Weiye Valley lay nestled between two mountains, unprotected by any barrier or array. The path was secluded, wildflowers bloomed, rabbits grazed, and pheasants occasionally fought in the undergrowth.

Within the valley stood a single cottage and a pharmacy hut. The cottage was small, with just a consulting room and a bedroom. But now, there were two in need of rescue.

This posed a dilemma. There was only one bed—should they both be placed there?

Huai Yin, carrying Yi Qingchen, looked to Fu Qingfeng. “What do we do?”

Fu Qingfeng was about to speak when the dazed Suhe on Xian Ge Yue’s back whispered, “Let the young master stay. I’ll go outside.”

“Alright, as you wish.” Fu Qingfeng sighed, gesturing for Xian Ge Yue to take Suhe outside. He motioned for Huai Yin to set Yi Qingchen down. “You go out too. Leave this to me.”

Huai Yin did as told, glancing outside. “And what about him? Will he be alright?”

“He won’t die.”

“Oh.” Huai Yin looked at Yi Qingchen and tiptoed out, closing the door quietly behind him. He eyed Suhe, now slumped in a chair by Xian Ge Yue. “Not going to die? Then why were you so anxious earlier?” He’d thought the fellow was at death’s door for nothing.

He sat down opposite Xian Ge Yue, reached for the teapot, and found it empty, setting it down with a sigh.

“What’s your name?”

“Xian Ge Yue.”

“Never heard of you. Did you ascend from the lower realms, or are you a proper celestial seed?” Huai Yin propped his left foot on his right knee, suddenly interested.

It was obvious that their esteemed Qingfeng was not fond of this newcomer. Even among the wilds of Yuhai Heaven, it was rare to see Qingfeng show such open displeasure. What had this man done?

“I suppose you could call me a celestial seed,” Xian Ge Yue mused. At the very least, he hadn’t ascended from below.

Huai Yin squinted at the closed door. “Oh… So how did you get on his bad side?”

Xian Ge Yue paused, then threw Huai Yin a flirtatious look. “Like this.”

“Haha… You have very peculiar tastes,” Huai Yin stammered, retracting his foot and quietly edging closer to Suhe. He pointed at Suhe. “So, do you think my brother will make it?”

“Ha! What are you thinking? I was messing with you,” Xian Ge Yue laughed.

“You’re quite the comedian,” Huai Yin said, blushing, his eyes darting to the bedroom door. Talking to this guy was exhausting; now he understood why Fu Qingfeng was so irritated.

Ah, but what was happening inside?

Bored with teasing Huai Yin, Xian Ge Yue tossed his hair back, eyes narrowing. He was, after all, someone accustomed to beauty, never lacking for it. To be regarded with such vulgar suspicion—what could be more tedious? He’d only shown interest because someone here was intriguing. That was all.

Several hours later, the door finally opened. Fu Qingfeng emerged. Huai Yin rushed to meet him. “Is there hope?”

Suhe had insisted the young master still had a breath left, but Huai Yin had doubted it—she’d seemed dead. Why insist on bringing her here?

“These pills—give them to her in half an hour. Barring mishap, she’ll wake in two days.” He handed over a porcelain bottle.

“R-really?” Huai Yin’s astonishment was plain as he carefully put away the medicine. It all seemed rather unbelievable.

Fu Qingfeng nodded. “Go in, but don’t disturb her.”

“Thank you!” Huai Yin bowed and hurried inside. He sat on the bed and checked—sure enough, there was breath, faint but real. He twirled the bottle between his fingers and grinned. Whatever Fu Qingfeng had done, it had worked. Weiye Valley’s Qingfeng truly lived up to his reputation.

Fu Qingfeng stepped out, saw Xian Ge Yue watching him, and barked, “Why are you standing around? Aren’t you going to take him?”

“Oh? Alright, alright.” At first, Xian Ge Yue thought Fu Qingfeng was angry at him again, but then realized it was just an order. Cheerfully, he hoisted the unconscious man onto his back and followed.

He carried the man to the pharmacy hut, only to be shooed out by Fu Qingfeng.

“What’s with the attitude? I can walk on my own, you know!” He drew half a steel blade, cold light flashing. Staring at the wooden doors, he hesitated, then muttered, “Never mind. I’m big-hearted—I won’t hold it against you.”

He wandered to a tree, flopped onto a rocking chair, and pushed off with his feet. The chair swung lazily.

He watched the pharmacy hut. Try to chase me away? Not a chance—you owe me far too much now. He raised his sleeve to the sunlight, viewing the bloodstains. This blood was shed for you. Hmph… you’ll never repay it all.

Fu Qingfeng ignored the muttered complaints. He was busy drawing out the residual power of the pills from Suhe’s body, little by little. One hand guiding, one hand gathering, it took him the better part of an hour to balance Suhe’s qi.

It helped that much had already been depleted by Xiao Laosi and Lin Mao; otherwise, Suhe would have been like a powder keg, ready to explode at any moment. This was why Fu Qingfeng hadn’t intervened to save Suhe earlier—if the potency of the pills wasn’t partially drained, not even a god could save him.

He glanced at the ball of radiance in his palm and, with a flick, dispersed it. “A waste of good medicine.”

A faint medicinal fragrance drifted from the hut, making the herbs and trees outside seem to grow years in an instant.

Xian Ge Yue’s gaze sharpened as he watched the hut in silence.

Inside, there was no bed, only a bamboo couch big enough for one. Glancing around, he moved Suhe onto it, stripped off his bloodstained shirt, fetched a basin of water, and carefully cleaned the wounds. From the shelf, he took a dozen kinds of herbs—fresh, green, or oddly colored, all collected before leaving. He pounded them into a paste and spread it evenly on the wounds. Soon, the flesh began to heal visibly.

After tending the injuries, he took a red pill from a porcelain bottle and forced it past Suhe’s teeth.

He then prepared two sets of medicine—one for Suhe, one for Yi Qingchen.

By the time he stepped outside, night had fallen, a few cold stars in the sky, dark clouds obscuring the crescent moon. He sat under the eaves, set up a stove, and started decocting the medicines.

Xian Ge Yue, lounging on the rocking chair, watched but did not interfere. Fu Qingfeng’s constant bustling struck him as foolish—so much effort and spiritual power, when it would be easier just to send them all to reincarnation.

Fu Qingfeng ignored the gaze from under the tree. When the medicine was ready, he first took Yi Qingchen’s portion inside, then returned with Suhe’s, feeding it to him as before.

Not until the end of the hour of the dog did he finally sit to rest, gazing at the flickering oil lamp. Only then did he notice the man on the couch had awoken.

“Nothing you want to explain?” Fu Qingfeng asked.

Suhe, pale-faced, struggled to sit up. His eyes were calm and steady. “Do you trust me, my friend?”

Fu Qingfeng stared at him for a moment, half mocking, half resigned. “Is it that, so deep in debt, you’ve grown numb? Can’t feel the bites anymore?”

“Do I have another choice?” Suhe replied, a bitter smile on his lips.

He lowered his gaze, took out clean clothes, and dressed. Some things, he knew, had become inevitable the moment he set foot in Yuhai Heaven…