“In the small coastal town of Yuzhou, demon beasts have frequently come ashore to terrorize the area over the past month, resulting in more than ten casualties among the fishermen. Local cultivators are unable to suppress them. Preliminary assessment suggests a pack of Tier 2 sea beasts, with a suspected beast tide. Requesting the sect dispatch disciples of Foundation Establishment or higher to investigate and handle the situation.”
Seven or eight disciples gathered in front of the notice board. One of them stood on his tiptoes and read the words aloud. When he reached “more than ten casualties,” his voice dropped, and those around him fell silent for a few moments.
Yuzhou was no major city; it was thick with the stench of brine, and its spiritual energy was thin. The cultivators stationed there year-round numbered no more than three to five Qi Refining stage practitioners. If they truly encountered a pack of Tier 2 sea beasts, they probably wouldn't even have time to send out a communication talisman for help.
Bai Qingxue stood at the outer edge of the crowd, her gaze drifting over the shoulders of the disciples in front of her to rest on the notice board.
Behind her, a steady murmur of conversation continued. Though the voices were quiet, they carried with exceptional clarity within the Affairs Hall.
“A pack of Tier 2 sea beasts? You'd need at least a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator to handle that.” The speaker was an outer sect disciple clad in grey robes, a rather ordinary spiritual sword hanging from his waist, his tone carrying an obvious trace of hesitation.
After all, a Tier 2 demon beast possessed combat strength almost on par with a cultivator at the great perfection of the Qi Refining stage. One or two might be manageable, but with the word “pack” written there, everyone knew exactly what it implied.
“I heard Senior Sister Su from Chixia Peak originally wanted to take it, but she's busy with another mission and can't get away.”
Another female disciple chimed in, her tone tinged with regret. “Senior Sister Su just broke through to mid-stage Foundation Establishment last month, and her spells have improved quite a bit. If she could go, it would have been a sure thing.”
“Then who's going to take this mission? We can't just leave it hanging forever...” The grey-robed disciple scratched his head. “Over ten fishermen have already died in Yuzhou. If we drag this out any longer, where will the sect's reputation go?”
“If you're so capable, why don't you do it?”
“Me? I'm only at the eighth level of Qi Refining. Do you want me to go die?”
A few of them shared a quiet chuckle but quickly stifled it, likely realizing that laughing in the face of a mission involving casualties was inappropriate.
Bai Qingxue reached out and plucked the bounty token from the notice board.
The Affairs Hall fell instantly silent.
Seven or eight gazes swiveled over in unison, landing on the fingers Bai Qingxue used to pinch the token.
Bai Qingxue's hands were slender and fair, her fingertips tinted with a faint pink, her nails neatly trimmed without any polish or finger guards. They did not look like the hands of someone who held a sword year-round.
As the onlookers' gazes drifted upward, past the long sword hanging at her waist and the cinched waistline of her plain white Daoist robe, they finally came to rest on her face.
Upon seeing Bai Qingxue's face, someone couldn't help but gasp. Though it was very quiet, Bai Qingxue still heard it.
Yet, Bai Qingxue did not raise her eyes to look at the person's expression.
After all, she had no need to look. She had long since grown accustomed to this, ever since her first day of transmigrating into this world.
She had seen that face in the bronze mirror far too many times.
Her features were as picturesque as a painting, her skin a cold, fair white.
She was beautiful—truly beautiful—so much so that anyone passing her on the street would steal a second look. She was so beautiful that, just now, most of the people present had probably used her looks as the sole metric to judge her strength.
But Bai Qingxue did not care.
Whether this face was stunning or plain mattered about as much to her as the weight of the sword at her waist.
Both were simply objective facts, nothing to be happy or sad about.
She knew what she looked like, and she knew what preconceived notions most people would have upon seeing her face, but she had never felt it was worth her time to address or correct them.
What others thought was their business; she only needed to do what she had to do.
“Stop staring. That's True Disciple Bai of Xueji Peak,” someone nearby said, pulling at their companion as they recognized Bai Qingxue.
The companion turned his head, his gaze instantly shifting from unbridled scrutiny to something else entirely.
“Why is she here?” the grey-robed disciple whispered to his companion. “Did she just come out of the mystic realm?”
“Who knows... but with her late stage of Foundation Establishment cultivation taking this mission, won't it be an absolute breeze?”
“True.”
Bai Qingxue walked through the narrow path parted by the crowd and set the token on the counter.
Sitting behind the counter was the Affairs Hall deacon, a grey-haired old cultivator whose cultivation had stagnated at the early stage of Foundation Establishment for twenty years without progress. However, he had handled tens of thousands of bounty missions, and his eye was sharper than any disciple present.
He took the token, glanced at it, and then looked up at Bai Qingxue. His gaze lingered on her face for less than half a breath before moving away. There was no awe, no doubt; he simply picked up the registration jade slip in a businesslike manner.
“Does Senior Sister Bai require any assistance? The mission description recommends forming a team.”
The deacon's voice was flat, his brush tip hovering over the jade slip as he waited.
Bai Qingxue nudged the token forward on the counter. “No need.”
The deacon's brush paused, and he looked past Bai Qingxue's shoulder.
Indeed, there was no one behind her.
He then looked back at Bai Qingxue's face and opened his mouth as if to say something. But considering that her late stage of Foundation Establishment cultivation was indeed more than sufficient, he ultimately just lowered his head and carved the registration rune into the jade slip.
“Martial Aunt Bai, solo. Mission number Yuzhou Grade A No. 47. Depart before sunrise tomorrow. Failure to move by the deadline will be deemed as abandonment.”
Bai Qingxue took the registered jade slip.
The jade slip felt warm in her hand, the carved rune pulsing with a slight heat beneath her fingertips. This was the mark of an urgent sect mission, meaning that once accepted, it could not be abandoned lightly; backing out midway would result in punishment according to sect rules.
Bai Qingxue tucked the jade slip into her sleeve pocket and turned to walk out of the Affairs Hall.
...
Departure was set for the following morning.
By the time Bai Qingxue returned to her courtyard, it was already evening.
As she pushed open the courtyard door, the withered branches of the old plum tree swayed in the wind. A few leaves that had finally managed to sprout rustled and fell, swirling down onto the stone slabs beneath the corridor.
Bai Qingxue closed the courtyard door behind her and walked into the main room to pack her gear.
The Shuanghua sword hung at her waist, the frost patterns on its scabbard gleaming with a faint silver-blue in the twilight. She unfastened it and placed it on the desk, then retrieved her storage bag from the cabinet.
The storage bag was one she had newly acquired last month, with a capacity thirty percent larger than her old one.
Just as Bai Qingxue was tying the sash at the opening of the bag, the door to the side room opened.
Hearing the sound, Bai Qingxue did not look up.
After all, she did not need to look to know who it was.
Ultimately, only two people lived in this courtyard.
Ning Qinghan stood at the doorway, leaning against one side of the frame.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
Bai Qingxue still did not look up.
She simply continued to tie the sash of her storage bag, her fingertips threading through the knot, wrapping it around, and pulling it tight.
When Bai Qingxue had stepped into the courtyard, the twilight had already spilled over the walls.
She set the jade slip she had brought back from the Affairs Hall onto the desk in the main room. The soft clack of the jade hitting the wooden surface sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard.
The withered branches of the old plum tree swayed in the evening breeze, a few leaves scraping across the blue brick ground with a faint, rustling sound.
She did not light a lamp, beginning to pack her gear by the last remaining sliver of daylight filtering through the window lattice paper.
Unfastening the Shuanghua sword from her waist, she set it on the corner of the table, the frost patterns on its scabbard gleaming with a faint, ghostly silver-blue in the dimness.
Then, Bai Qingxue retrieved her storage bag from the cabinet and systematically packed pills, talismans, and dry rations inside. Each item went into its designated spot, her movements methodical and precise, as if she were executing a sword form she had practiced countless times.
The courtyard was silent, save for the rustling of the fabric bag and the steady sound of her own breathing.
It was at this moment that the door to the side room opened.
Ning Qinghan leaned against the doorframe, holding her coarse ceramic cup as steam rose lazily from the rim in the twilight.
She wore no shoes, her bare feet resting on the cold floor, her toes curled slightly.
The collar of her Daoist robe was still a size too large, hanging loosely over her collarbone. She looked as if she had just gotten up from the daybed by the window, having thrown on a robe at random before coming out.
Even though Bai Qingxue had told her to go fetch whatever she needed herself...
“Going on a mission?” Ning Qinghan suddenly spoke.
Bai Qingxue did not stop tying the bag, nor did she turn around.
“The scent of ink on you is wrong,” Ning Qinghan said, taking a sip of tea before continuing.
“I've smelled pine soot ink before. The kind you usually use to write talismans is made from the soot of burned pine branches; its scent is light, with a hint of charred bitterness. The kind clinging to your cuffs right now is fishier than pine soot ink.”
Bai Qingxue's fingers paused on the knot.
She lifted her sleeve and leaned down to sniff it.
There indeed seemed to be a very faint, salty-fishy scent mingled between the mountain wind and the smell of pine wood. Had she not deliberately tried to distinguish it, she wouldn't have noticed it at all.
She had spent no more than a cup of tea's time in the Affairs Hall. The registering deacon had ground ink several times at his desk, and the ink scent had rubbed onto her cuffs and fingertips. Though most of it had been dispersed by the mountain wind on her walk back, Ning Qinghan could actually still smell it across half the courtyard.
“Fishy.”
Ning Qinghan spoke again, as if confirming her own judgment.
She tilted her head, her gaze drifting toward an indeterminate direction in the twilight. “And a bit salty too, the kind of salty-fishy smell you get from dried seafood. There aren't many places in the sect that use this kind of ink. Document archives use it to prevent pest damage, and coastal sub-sects use it to prevent dampness, so they mix other ingredients into the ink.”
Ning Qinghan lowered her eyelashes, blowing on the tea froth at the rim of her cup. “You also have the scent of the sea breeze on you. Xuantian Sect is at least several thousand miles away from the East Sea, so this breeze didn't blow in from the coast. It's the scent emitted by the bounty token itself after you brought it back from the sea.”
She took another sip of tea, then set the cup down on the blue brick just inside the threshold.
“The East Sea.”
“What animal are you?” Bai Qingxue placed the tied storage bag on the table and turned to look at the person in the doorway.
Ning Qinghan tilted her head, as if giving the question serious thought. “A cat.”
The corners of her mouth curved slightly as she spoke, and then she lowered her eyelashes, her gaze drifting toward some indeterminate point in the twilight.
The shadow cast by the old plum tree beneath the corridor fell right across the tops of her bare feet, the crisscrossing withered branches resembling a torn net.
A few moments passed before Ning Qinghan spoke again. Her voice was slightly quieter now, sounding less like she was addressing Bai Qingxue and more like she was talking to herself.
“What I smell isn't just the ink. You also carry the scent of the sea breeze. And since Xuantian Sect is at least several thousand miles from the nearest coast, this breeze didn't blow in from the sea. It's the scent the bounty token itself has been emitting since you brought it back.”
Ning Qinghan took another sip of tea, then set her cup on the blue brick inside the threshold. “So, you are going to the East Sea for a mission, right?”
Bai Qingxue said nothing.
“The matters over there,” Ning Qinghan said, her gaze shifting from the twilight to the Shuanghua sword at Bai Qingxue's waist, “might have something to do with the place I used to stay.”
Bai Qingxue's hand finally paused on the storage bag's sash.
She paused for a moment, her amber eyes narrowing slightly in the dim room. Then, she pulled the knot to its tightest, her tone completely unchanged when she spoke.
“And?”
Ning Qinghan rose from the threshold and took two steps toward Bai Qingxue, her bare feet stepping onto the blue bricks.
She walked very slowly, the hem of her Daoist robe dragging against the brick surface with a soft, rustling sound.
Soon, she stopped at the edge of the shadow cast by the old plum tree's withered branches.
“If you take me along, perhaps I might recognize a familiar face if we run into someone.”
“You still have acquaintances in the East Sea?”
“Who knows? Maybe the Holy Sect has some sort of stronghold out there~”
As she spoke, the twilight seemed to deepen by another shade.
Ning Qinghan stood at the edge of the plum tree's shadow. The twilight fell over her, outlining her silhouette into a slender shadow.
Yet, Ning Qinghan's eyes shone brightly in the dusk—a very deep blue, heavy and dark, like the waters of the deep sea.
Bai Qingxue turned, facing her fully.
Her gaze started from Ning Qinghan's bare feet, slowly moving upward until it finally rested on Ning Qinghan's eyes.
Meanwhile, Ning Qinghan met Bai Qingxue's gaze with utter composure.
“Look at me, I'm always stuck in this courtyard. How pitiful!”
Ning Qinghan's tone suddenly shifted, changing from her usual lazy drawl into a faint, playful complaint.
She then tilted her head slightly, her bare toes gently scraping against the blue brick. “This time you're going to be gone for so long again. I suppose you're planning to leave me all alone here once more.”
Hearing this, Bai Qingxue stared deeply at her for two breaths.
For the first breath, she stared into those deep blue eyes.
For the second breath, Bai Qingxue averted her gaze, lowering her head to slip the Frost Moon Chant into the leather loop at her waist.
“Are you going to cause trouble?”
Ning Qinghan pondered for a moment.
She was genuinely thinking, not just putting on a show of pondering before offering some perfunctory answer.
Her brow furrowed slightly, her eyes drifting toward the upper left, and then she pursed her lips. Looking up at Bai Qingxue, she answered earnestly:
“No guarantees.”
The corner of Bai Qingxue's mouth twitched inexplicably.
Yet, no one could tell if it was surprise or a smile. After all, the expression lingered only for a fleeting moment in some gray area between the two, like a snowflake landing on a scorching ground, vanishing before it even had a chance to melt.
“We depart at cockcrow. Pack your own things.”
The corners of Ning Qinghan's mouth curved upward as she said with a hint of cheer:
“I have nothing to pack. I'm right here, so we can just go.”
With that, Ning Qinghan turned and walked into the side room. Only this time, she did not shut her door completely, leaving it slightly ajar.
Standing at the doorway of the main room, Bai Qingxue watched the orange glow of the lamp spilling from the crack in the door. After a moment, she walked over, took down the lantern from beneath the corridor, and hung it on the wooden hook outside the side room's door.
Then, she returned to the main room, spread out her map, and began marking their route by the lamplight.
Rate on N.U.
