Bai Shuo waited in the herb garden until midnight, but the person she longed to see never came. Unable to suppress her mounting concern for Chong Zhao, she slipped quietly through the darkness toward the Sunrise Garden.Yet the Sunrise Garden lay shrouded in shadow, empty and silent, with no trace of Chong Zhao's presence. Anxiety gnawing at her heart, Bai Shuo settled beneath the eaves to wait. Through the long, cold hours of night she kept vigil, until finally, as dawn began to paint the eastern sky with pale light, footsteps echoed at the garden's entrance.
She looked up, and her breath caught.
"A-Zhao!"
Relief and exasperation warring in her chest, Bai Shuo rushed forward and playfully punched his shoulder, startling him.
"Where have you been? You should be resting at night, not making me wait all this time!"
"I..." Chong Zhao's voice emerged rough and strained. He concealed the storm of emotions in his eyes behind a forced smile. "I was practicing swordplay in the back mountains."
"Again? Didn't you just come out of seclusion?" Disapproval creased Bai Shuo's brow. "Cultivation is important, but you shouldn't neglect your health."
Still muttering her concerns, she pulled a small white porcelain vial from her medicine pouch and pressed it into Chong Zhao's palm, her eyes bright with barely contained excitement. "I overheard some fellow disciples saying... you've been promoted to Immortal Lord. This is celestial dew I refined last night. It's been so long since we've seen each other—come, let's go to my herb garden and celebrate with a drink!"
She tugged eagerly at his sleeve, but he remained rooted in place like a statue. Puzzled, Bai Shuo turned back—and froze at the complete absence of joy on his face, where she had expected pride or at least satisfaction.
"It's just the title of Immortal Lord. Nothing worth celebrating."
In all the years since they had come to Misty Island seeking immortality, Bai Shuo had never seen Chong Zhao so utterly dejected. Words failed her as she faltered. "A-Zhao, what's wrong...?"
"Junior Brother, why such discouraging words?"
Er Yun's voice cut through the morning air as she strode into the garden, her bearing imperious and her tone sharp with reproach. "You're the most outstanding disciple Misty Island has seen in a century. Ascending from a mortal to Immortal Lord in just three years is a feat worthy of legend in the Immortal Realm."
Her gaze dropped to where Bai Shuo and Chong Zhao's hands remained joined, and something dark flickered through her eyes—raw, undisguised jealousy.
Feeling the weight of Er Yun's stare like a physical thing, Bai Shuo released Chong Zhao's hand.
"Bai Shuo, as an Outer Sect Disciple, you shouldn't be wandering around the inner halls all the time. The fact that my father allowed a mere mortal like you to stay on Misty Island was already an act of mercy!" The words cracked like a whip.
"Yes, Senior Sister Er Yun."
Chong Zhao's mouth opened to protest, but Bai Shuo jabbed him sharply in the back. Painting on her brightest smile, she said, "I'll return to the herb hut right away."
She turned to leave.
"Wait!" Er Yun snatched the porcelain vial from Chong Zhao's hand and thrust it back at Bai Shuo with undisguised contempt. "Your Immortal Qi is impure, so the celestial dew you refine can't be of much use either. Take it back—don't hinder Junior Brother's cultivation."
Chong Zhao's anger radiated from him like heat. Bai Shuo hesitated, then quickly took the vial upon seeing the dangerous set of his jaw. "Yes, Senior Sister."
Without another word, she walked away, refusing to look back.
Pleased by Bai Shuo's obedient compliance, Er Yun's lips curved in satisfaction—only to meet Chong Zhao's darkened gaze when she turned, his eyes cold as winter frost.
"Junior Brother, I... I was just concerned for you..."
"Thank you for your consideration, Senior Sister. Since you're already assisting Junior Martial Uncle with the island's affairs, there's no need to trouble yourself with matters in the Sunrise Garden." The dismissal was absolute. Without waiting for a response, Chong Zhao turned and entered his quarters, the door sliding shut with quiet finality.
Rebuffed and humiliated, Er Yun shot a venomous glare in the direction Bai Shuo had gone before storming off, her robes snapping behind her like furious wings.
Bai Shuo returned to her herb hut, cradling the rejected vial against her chest. The old tortoise took one look at her downcast expression and knew without asking that she'd been slighted again. He put her to work immediately—watering plants, tending fires, refining elixirs. The busy day passed in a blur of activity, and the exhaustion and frustration from her sleepless vigil gradually faded beneath the familiar rhythm of her tasks.
As evening painted the sky in shades of amber and violet, Bai Shuo leaned back on the rattan chair beneath the old locust tree in the garden. She set down a plate of peanuts and poured two cups full of wine, the liquid catching the dying light. She had just taken her first sip when the other cup was lifted and drained in one smooth motion.
Bai Shuo turned her head. In the twilight's soft glow, Chong Zhao was no longer wearing the distinctive flowing robes of Piaomiao Island's chief disciple, but the simple cloth garments he had worn when he left the capital with Bai Shuo years ago. Yet everything about him had changed. Even in plain clothes, his ethereal and transcendent aura was unmistakable—an otherworldliness that marked him as something more than mortal now.
"If it was brewed for me, how could you not wait?" Chong Zhao settled into the other rattan chair, his gaze fixed on the setting sun with unseeing intensity.
"A-Zhao, something's bothering you, isn't it?" Bai Shuo asked quietly. Having grown up together, she could read his moods like changes in the weather—she knew he was unhappy with just a glance, even now that he had ascended to become an Immortal Lord.
Silence lingered beneath the old locust tree, heavy and contemplative. Despite the distance between their chairs, Chong Zhao instinctively leaned slightly toward Bai Shuo, as if drawn by invisible threads.
"I used to think that becoming an Immortal would mean I could do whatever I wanted. Now I realize that the world is vast, and Immortal Ascension is just the first step on an endless path."
"You're already amazing," Bai Shuo said, shoving the porcelain bottle into Chong Zhao's hand with gentle insistence. "Didn't Senior Sister Er Yun say today that you're a once-in-a-century prodigy among the Immortals? Don't be so down. By Immortal standards, you're only three years old!"
Seeing Bai Shuo coaxing him like a sulking child, Chong Zhao couldn't help but smile. Then, remembering the grievances she had endured today, guilt shadowed his expression. "A-Shuo, about today..."
"You know how Senior Sister Er Yun is. A few harsh words won't take any flesh off me—it's fine. Besides, she's not wrong. A mortal like me, with no Immortal foundation at all, is lucky just to be allowed to stay on Piaomiao Island."
"But you were the one who saved Master back then..." Chong Zhao blurted out, his frown deepening with frustration.
Bai Shuo's hand shot out, covering his mouth firmly. "A-Zhao!" She glanced around with wide, alarmed eyes, relieved to see no one nearby, then whispered urgently, "You promised me you'd never bring that up again!"
"If I don't speak up, they'll keep bullying you like this. A-Shuo, tomorrow I'll tell Junior Martial Uncle Sect Leader the truth—that you were the one who saved Master on that deserted island—and ask him to take you as his disciple..."
"What difference would it make? I have no Immortal foundation. Even if the Sect Leader took me as his disciple, or even if the Golden Radiance Immortal Lord from the Heavenly Palace became my Master, I'd still be nothing but a mortal. I can't ascend."
Bai Shuo shook her head firmly. "Besides, if the Sect Leader found out, he'd deliberately suppress the truth and blame you. We saved Sect Leader Song He together—you didn't lie."
Three years ago, Bai Shuo and Chong Zhao had been stranded on a desolate island where they discovered Song He, his Immortal essence nearly dissipated, hovering on the edge of death. As mere mortals, how could they save an Immortal? While Chong Zhao floundered helplessly, Bai Shuo cut her own wrist daily to feed Song He her blood, sustaining his failing life force. Half a month later, Song Feng found the island and brought all three back to safety. When Song He finally awoke and asked who had saved him, Bai Shuo claimed it was Chong Zhao who had tended to him day and night, keeping him alive until rescue arrived.
Seeing Chong Zhao's profound Immortal destiny and his role in preserving his life, Song He took him as his personal disciple. On his deathbed, he transferred all his accumulated Immortal power to Chong Zhao.
"Besides, if people found out a mortal's blood could save an Immortal, wouldn't I become nothing more than a walking Medicine Cauldron?" Bai Shuo made a face, trying to lighten the mood. "All I can do is ride a cloud and conjure a little fire. A-Zhao, don't push me into the flames."
If it weren't for this dangerous truth, why would Chong Zhao have kept the events of that year hidden all this time? He nodded helplessly. "Alright, A-Shuo. From now on, I'll come to the medicine hut to see you every seven days so you don't have to suffer any grievances in the main hall."
"No need! I heard that in a few months, you'll be going to Phoenix Island for the 'Wutong Martial Banquet.' Phoenix Island is a Holy Land of the immortal clans, and only the most outstanding talents from various factions participate in this competition. It's bound to be extremely dangerous. Don't worry about me—just focus on your cultivation."
Bai Shuo tossed a peanut into her mouth and leaned back with practiced ease. "As for me, I'll just plant herbs and bask in the sun every day in this medicine garden. Though I'm no immortal, I'm happier than one."
Chong Zhao studied Bai Shuo's serene expression, and the oppressive gloom that had weighed on him all day began to lift like morning mist. He smiled genuinely for the first time. "You're still as carefree as ever. If General Bai saw you like this, he'd surely scold you."
As the words left his mouth, Chong Zhao suddenly paused, apology flickering in his eyes like a guttering candle. But before he could say anything more, he noticed Bai Shuo had already drifted into sleep.
A gentle breeze stirred the stray hairs on her forehead. The petite figure curled up in an oversized medicine robe looked somewhat frail and vulnerable. Now that only the two of them were left to rely on each other in this world, aside from vengeance, Bai Shuo was the most important person in Chong Zhao's heart.
Unable to resist, he reached out and brushed aside her stray hairs with infinite tenderness. "A-Shuo, I just want you to be safe."
With a soft sigh, Chong Zhao conjured a thin blanket and draped it carefully over Bai Shuo. Suddenly, he coughed—light at first, then deeper—and a trace of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He quickly wiped it away, and without lingering, vanished beneath the old locust tree like smoke dispersing.
The moment Chong Zhao disappeared, Bai Shuo's eyes snapped open. She stared in the direction he had gone, her expression sharp and alert. Abruptly sitting up, she rushed into the thatched hut, frantically rummaging through the chest where she stored her Medicinal Pills.
A dozen pill boxes were flung open, but all were empty—devastatingly, impossibly empty. Bai Shuo stared in disbelief, then whirled and dragged out the old turtle snoring peacefully in the corner.
"Old Black! Wake up! Wake up!"
The turtle's head wobbled violently as Bai Shuo shook him without mercy, and he awoke dizzy and disoriented, his four limbs flailing uselessly. "What? What? An earthquake?!"
When he opened his eyes, there was no earthquake—just Bai Shuo glaring at him with eyes blazing with fury.
"Where are the Medicinal Pills I refined?!" she demanded, hands planted firmly on her hips.
The turtle glanced at the empty boxes scattered across the floor like casualties of battle, then shrank into his shell, his voice emerging small and trembling. "W-well, I saw you'd refined those pills a while ago, and it's been raining lately... I was afraid they'd spoil, so... I ate them while they were still good..."
"You ate ALL of them?!" Bai Shuo couldn't believe her ears. "Those were ten second-grade Medicinal Pills! It took me over a year to refine them!"
Seeing Bai Shuo's face flush crimson with anger, the turtle hurriedly tried to placate her. "Ah, those second-grade pills wouldn't do you any good anyway! For me, they can prolong my life. They were just sitting there—you can always refine a few more, right?"
"No! Refining just one second-grade pill takes at least three months. There's no time!" Anxiety flooded Bai Shuo's face, erasing the anger.
"Little Bai, has something happened?" The turtle stretched his neck cautiously, sensing the shift in her distress.
"A-Zhao is injured," Bai Shuo muttered, the words heavy with worry.
"That Chong Zhao kid is hurt?" Genuine surprise registered on the turtle's ancient face. "Did that octopus-thing wound him?"
Bai Shuo shook her head slowly. "I could smell blood on him. It wasn't a wound inflicted by the Yao Race, but..." She paused, suppressing the dark suspicion forming in her heart, and said gravely, "In three months, he's going to Phoenix Island for the 'Wutong Martial Banquet.' If he has to heal on his own, there won't be enough time."
"That lad is already an Immortal Lord now. Even if you gave him ten second-grade Medicinal Pills, it wouldn't make a difference." The old turtle yawned dismissively. "Girl, stop worrying needlessly..."
"Would a first-grade pill work then?" Bai Shuo abruptly stood the turtle upright, her hands gripping his shell as she stared straight into his ancient eyes with unwavering intensity.
The turtle sighed, a sound like wind through empty caves. "You don't have immortal power—what could you possibly use to refine a first-grade Immortal Pill?"
"You have a way." Bai Shuo kept staring at the turtle, her confidence absolute and unshakeable.
The turtle's gaze shifted uncomfortably as it forced an unconvincing laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. What could a mere turtle like me possibly... Oi oi oi, what are you doing?!"
Bai Shuo lifted the turtle bodily and dangled it over the Medicine Cauldron without hesitation. "I don't care! You're the one who ate ten of my second-grade pills—you owe me! If you can't help me refine a first-grade pill, tonight's dinner is roasted turtle!"
Flames crackled against the turtle's shell, leaving it completely unharmed. But Bai Shuo's bare hands, pressed against the shell, turned angry red and began to swell painfully.
This Medicine Cauldron had been refined over centuries, absorbing the essence of sun and moon until it became something more than mere metal. It was a rare treasure of alchemy—its internal heat could melt even the hardest immortal materials, let alone vulnerable mortal flesh. Seeing her face drain of color, sweat beading on her forehead, and her legs beginning to tremble, the old turtle finally relented.
"Fine, fine! I'll tell you! Just get your hands off already!"
Delighted despite the pain, Bai Shuo clumsily pulled the turtle back down. "Hurry, tell me!"
The turtle spat out a pill with practiced ease and gestured impatiently. "Your hands are practically cooked—rub this on them!"
Bai Shuo crushed the pill and smeared the paste on her injured hands. The swelling and redness vanished instantly, as if they had never been. She clicked her tongue in admiration, grinning. "You really do hide the good stuff. As expected of my Master."
"Tch. 'Master' when you need something, 'old turtle' when you don't. What a little schemer." The turtle knew Bai Shuo wouldn't give up until she got her way, so it resigned itself to teaching her everything. "I did say refining a first-grade Immortal Pill requires at least the power of a High Lord. But there is another condition that might make it possible."
"What condition?"
"Using first-grade heavenly treasures as ingredients."
"But where would our Misty Isle get first-grade earthly treasures?" Bai Shuo paused, then leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with sudden understanding. "You know where they are, don't you?"
"Little Bai, your Master here might not be much, but even a turtle lives long enough to pick up a thing or two."
"Go on, Master." Bai Shuo immediately carried the turtle to a rattan chair with exaggerated reverence and poured it a cup of immortal nectar, her servility almost comical. "Take your time, Master."
The turtle flicked its claw, and the nectar streamed smoothly into its mouth. Its beady eyes instantly grew hazy with contentment. "Though our Misty Isle is just a speck in the East Sea, it was once counted among the Three Mountains and Six Prefectures. But in recent years, the island hasn't produced any talents, and the disciples all focus on martial cultivation, neglecting alchemy..."
"Master, cut to the chase." Bai Shuo intercepted the turtle's claw before it could reach for more nectar, her smile polite but pointed.
She knew her turtle Master all too well—given the chance, it could ramble about Misty Isle's glorious history until dawn broke.
"Right, right. To keep it short—the ten-thousand-year red coral hidden in the easternmost waters by the shore is the only first-grade earthly treasure on our island!" The turtle pointed decisively with its right claw, as if revealing a great secret.
Bai Shuo stared at the turtle for a long, contemplative moment before suddenly grinning and lining up an entire table of immortal nectar bottles. "You're the best, Master! I'm off! Enjoy these!"
"Go on, go on." The turtle waved a claw magnanimously, already appearing half-drunk.
Bai Shuo tightened her small medicine pouch and hurried off under the cover of night, her footsteps light and purposeful.
The thatched cottage fell into deep silence. After a long pause, the old turtle suddenly opened its eyes—clear and alert, without a trace of drowsiness or intoxication.
If first-grade heavenly treasures were so easily obtained, first-grade Immortal Pills would flood the Three Realms like common rainwater. But this girl was stubbornly sincere, dangerously determined—if she weren't tricked into leaving, she'd surely stir up catastrophic trouble within these three months.
The old turtle chuckled to itself with satisfaction and began gulping down the immortal dew with genuine abandon.
The night was moonless, thick with shadows. In a corner behind the main hall, a section of the library wall was quietly pushed open. Bai Shuo slipped in with practiced ease, a faint glow lighting her palm as she rummaged through dusty shelves that clearly hadn't been disturbed in years. She pulled out several old books, their covers thick with accumulated dust. Blowing the dust away in a cloud, the title "Records of Heavenly and Earthly Treasures of the Ethereal Isle" appeared on yellowed pages that crackled as she turned them. She flipped through a few sections and raised an eyebrow knowingly.
She hadn't been wrong—the old rascal had deliberately deceived her. The book clearly stated that even the ten-thousand-year red coral of the East Sea was merely a second-grade earthly treasure. The edges of the East Sea were guarded by the sect's powerful Restrictions. If she barged in recklessly, she might be trapped for three to five months, and then she'd be of no help whatsoever to A-Zhao.
Bai Shuo sighed, understanding now that the old turtle had tricked her out of fear she'd cause irreparable trouble. But if not the red coral, what exactly was the first-grade heavenly treasure of the Ethereal Isle?
Her gaze wandered across the ancient pages before suddenly freezing on one particular entry. Pressing her lips together with determination, she tucked the book into her robe, extinguished the light in her palm, and vanished silently into the night like a ghost.
By the time Bai Shuo returned to the thatched cottage, the immortal dew on the table was scattered in cheerful disarray, and the old turtle lay on its back, snoring with impressive volume.
Bai Shuo murmured a soft incantation toward the Medicine Cauldron at the center of the cottage. It shrank obediently to the size of her palm, and with a practiced wave of her hand, she tucked it into her medicine pouch. She turned to leave but hesitated after a few steps, her conscience pricking. Walking back, she draped a blanket over the old turtle with gentle hands before rushing out of the herb garden, her resolve crystallized.
Meanwhile, far above the Yao Realm, a powerful surge of silver demonic energy tore through the sky like a wound in reality, streaking with terrible purpose toward the East Sea of the Immortal Realm.
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