Chapter 24: Spirit Boat

Hua Xiangwan was somewhat bewildered by the question.

Why could everyone else do it, but he couldn’t?

She thought about it, and perhaps it was because none of the others had ever hurt her.

But since Xie Changji wanted to set off with her, there was no need to say such unpleasant things.

Unable to persuade Xie Changji, she was too lazy to try anymore. She closed her eyes, pulled the covers up, and slept straight until dawn.

The next day, she vaguely heard the sound of tea being poured. She woke groggily and opened her eyes to see a figure pouring tea behind the screen. She was so startled that she sat bolt upright.

“Awake?”

Xie Changji’s voice came from outside. Hua Xiangwan composed herself before speaking, “Good…good morning.”

“Lingnan.”

Xie Changji stood up and called to the person outside, “Come in.”

As he spoke, the door creaked open, and many people rushed in. Lingnan, along with her maids, went around to the screen to help Hua Xiangwan get up.

Xie Changji, with his back to her, told her where he was going: “I’m going to check on the people and say goodbye to my martial uncle.”

“Oh.”

Hua Xiangwan nodded, and Xie Changji walked out.

…

The Hehuan Palace and the Heavenly Sword Sect had already checked their people and were ready. One hundred disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect were already in place, both men and women, all dressed in blue robes and carrying swords, exuding an aura of righteousness.

Upon seeing Hua Xiangwan come out, the disciples respectfully bowed: “Greetings, Grandmother.”

Hearing this title, Hua Xiangwan’s heart trembled.

Two hundred years was not a short time, but there were indeed very few who could reach the level of Grandmother.

Hua Xiangwan nodded awkwardly and, led by Ling Bei, boarded the spirit boat.

…

Inside the cabin, she opened the window and saw Kun Xuzi and Xie Changji emerge. He had changed his clothes; although not yesterday’s wedding attire, it was still a festive red. Yesterday, Hua Xiangwan hadn’t been in the mood to look at people, but now, feeling utterly bored, she couldn’t help but stare at him.

To be honest, Xie Changji was indeed the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Even after more than two hundred years, she was still stunned to see him again.

His features weren’t exquisitely perfect, even somewhat plain, but together they possessed a refined and elegant beauty, like a landscape painting.

Having cultivated in seclusion since childhood, he possessed an ethereal, otherworldly air. When he wielded his sword, it was like a cold blade being drawn from its sheath, making people hesitant to approach. Now, dressed in red and with his sharpness concealed, he resembled a banished immortal descending to earth, like a noble young master on an outing, approachable yet untouchable.

Kun Xuzi was giving Xie Changji instructions, and Xie Changji nodded patiently.

Hua Xiangwan’s gaze lingered. Xie Changji seemed to sense it, raising his eyes from afar. Their eyes met, and Hua Xiangwan quickly looked away, guilt pricking her chest.

…

Kun Xuzi escorted Xie Changji all the way to the spirit boat, still nagging:

“Of these hundred disciples, Suiwen and Changsheng are most afraid of the dark. When you lead them to dark places, be sure to place them in the middle. And for yourself, I’ve prepared three hundred Qingxin Pills and nine hundred Fuyuan Pills for you. They’re all in your bag. Don’t find it troublesome; take your medicine when you need to.

I’ve prepared a hundred sets of clothes for you, in every color imaginable. Once you’re at Hehuan Palace, you don’t need to wear a Daoist robe every day. Remember to wear something nice.

And…”

“Ahem.”

Hua Xiangwan coughed lightly, smiling as she reminded him: “Elder Kun, please see him off a little further. Lord Qingheng might have to wait until his ascension tribulation.”

Kun Xuzi hesitated, glanced at Xie Changji, then bowed to Hua Xiangwan.

“Young Master Hua,” Kun Xuzi sighed, “Our elder Chang Ji is devoted to cultivation and doesn’t know how to manage worldly affairs. We’ll trouble you to take care of him at Hehuan Palace.”

“Understood, understood.”

Hua Xiangwan grasped his hand and nodded quickly.

…

Once aboard, the spirit boat soared into the sky. Hua Xiangwan gazed at the scenery, chin in hand, then entered meditation.

Xie Changji opened his eyes, calm and steady.
“Hua Xiangwan.”

She looked up, surprised.

“Come here.”

She obeyed, sitting opposite him.

“Give me your hand.”

She extended it nervously.

Xie Changji placed his hand on her pulse, circulating spiritual energy.
“Your golden core is almost completely shattered.”

“Yes.”

“It was stitched back together inch by inch.”

“Let me help you.”

He guided his spiritual energy into her meridians. At first, it was cool, soothing. Then pain struck like lightning.

She gasped, trembling.

“How was it being alone?” he asked steadily.

“Alone…I was adrift at sea for three months before I found my way.”

“And then?”

“Then I reached the shore, and it was the first time I’d seen such a beautiful place, with green mountains and clear waters, winding rivers and bridges.”

“Isn’t there anything like that in the Western Region?”

“No, the Western Region is mostly desert, endless yellow sand blotting out the sun.”

“Why do you always call me Hua Xiangwan?”

“I want to call you by your name.”

Not the lie you gave me.

…

Wave after wave of pain broke her. She spat blood, collapsing against his shoulder.

“You have,” he said hoarsely, “a total of three hundred and forty-two blocked points.”

“Mm.”

“You’ll have to bear it.”

“It’s alright.”

They leaned close, breath mingling, silence heavy.

…

Later, she bathed, while he stood outside the door, reciting the Heart-Cleansing Mantra, yet hearing every rustle and sigh within. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Leaning against the door, he waited until she called softly:
“It’s done.”