The news of Bai Qingxue waking up somehow reached Chixia Peak.
That afternoon, Su Zhaoyan arrived.
Su Zhaoyan was not wearing the Xuantian Sect Daoist robe; she was still dressed in her signature red clothing, her long hair tied with a crimson hair ribbon. A few stray wisps of hair hung by her ears, fluttering gently in the mountain wind.
However, this time she brought nothing with her. She came empty-handed, her posture as relaxed as if she were taking a stroll in her own courtyard.
Seeing the courtyard gate open, Su Zhaoyan walked straight in.
At that moment, Bai Qingxue was sitting under the old plum tree drinking tea. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and glanced at her.
Without waiting for Bai Qingxue to speak, Su Zhaoyan sat down opposite her. She looked at the teapot on the stone table, picked it up, and gave it a shake. Hearing the liquid inside, she poured herself a cup.
She brought it to her lips and took a sip.
“Why do you always drink it cold? Where is Lu Xueqing?”
Bai Qingxue did not respond.
Seeing this, Su Zhaoyan didn't mind. She set the cup down and leaned back against her chair, looking at Bai Qingxue.
Her gaze slid from Bai Qingxue’s brow to her jaw, then dropped from her jaw to that long, silver-white hair, lingering for a moment.
“It’s good that you’re awake,” Su Zhaoyan said, her tone casual, as if she were mentioning something trivial.
Bai Qingxue picked up her teacup and remained silent.
Su Zhaoyan was in no hurry to speak either. She sat there, her fingers lightly tapping the stone table twice, as if weighing her words or waiting for Bai Qingxue to speak first.
She knew Bai Qingxue wouldn't speak first, so after waiting a while, she spoke herself.
“Shen Moyuan, the one who injured you before, was a spy for the Xuanyin Demonic Sect of the Northern Region.”
The hand Bai Qingxue held her teacup with didn't move in the slightest; after all, she had known this news for a long time.
Su Zhaoyan looked at that face, which was as cold as frost, and the corner of her mouth curved slightly.
She continued, “Shen Moyuan’s real name is Shen Yuan. Not only is he not dead, but he also sent information about you back to the Northern Region. The Xuanyin Demonic Sect already knows about you.”
Hearing this, Bai Qingxue finally looked up slightly at Su Zhaoyan.
“Your spiritual root, your cultivation technique, your Ice Spirit power.” Su Zhaoyan’s voice was unhurried, as if she were reading a list. “They know it all.”
Bai Qingxue held her teacup, still not speaking.
“Why don’t you ask me how I know?” Su Zhaoyan asked.
“You will tell me,” Bai Qingxue said.
Su Zhaoyan was stunned for a moment, then laughed. “Yes, I will.”
She leaned back against the chair, her gaze falling into the distance as if she were recalling something.
“The Xuanyin Demonic Sect has planted people in all the major sects of the Eastern Region, not just Shen Yuan. Chixia Peak cleared out a batch years ago, but whether they were completely wiped out, no one knows. The sect has actually been watching Shen Yuan’s line for quite some time; they just didn't expect him to strike at this moment.”
She retracted her gaze and looked at Bai Qingxue.
“I intercepted some of the intelligence he sent back. But the parts that were meant to be delivered likely already have been.”
Bai Qingxue was silent for a moment.
“So you came to find me to tell me this.”
“Not entirely.” Su Zhaoyan picked up that cup of plain cold water, took another sip, and set it down. “The sect will handle this matter; you don't need to worry. I came to see you as well.”
“As well.”
“Yes, just as well,” Su Zhaoyan nodded, her tone frank.
As if thinking of something, Su Zhaoyan paused and changed the subject.
“During the days you were unconscious,” Su Zhaoyan’s voice was slightly lower than before, “Lu Xueqing warmed your medicine every day. It would get warm and then cold, and then she would warm it again. She would reheat a single bowl of medicine three or four times.”
Su Zhaoyan paused, looking into Bai Qingxue’s eyes.
“Lu Xueqing did this every day. Do you even know?”
Bai Qingxue did not respond.
Bai Qingxue’s expression was as indifferent as usual, showing no change. The fingers holding the teacup did not tighten or loosen; she just held it like that, as if she hadn't heard a thing.
Looking at that expressionless face, Su Zhaoyan suddenly felt a sensation she couldn't quite describe.
This wasn't the first time she had seen Bai Qingxue like this. She had seen it during the grand competition, she had seen it in Lu Xueqing’s courtyard, and she had seen it just now when she walked through the door.
But even now, standing before the fact that Lu Xueqing had brewed medicine and kept watch every single day, this person still looked the same.
It was... quite irritating.
It was as if her words had fallen into water and sunk to the bottom before even a ripple could spread.
Su Zhaoyan’s smile slowly faded.
She suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable.
She couldn't say exactly where the discomfort came from.
Before coming, Su Zhaoyan had thought that Bai Qingxue might be silent, might be moved, might ask 'is she alright,' or might just nod. But Bai Qingxue gave no response at all; there was only indifference.
Su Zhaoyan didn't consider herself a particularly warm-hearted person.
She liked watching interesting things, liked seeing people make fools of themselves, and liked seeing those serious types reveal their flaws.
She had seen Lu Xueqing’s feelings for Bai Qingxue, found it interesting, and so she had come to look.
But she hadn't expected Bai Qingxue to be like this.
Lu Xueqing came every day, kept watch every day, and reheated a bowl of medicine over and over as it went from warm to cold.
It wasn't that Su Zhaoyan didn't know what Lu Xueqing was doing, nor was it that she didn't feel for her.
She just felt that it was Lu Xueqing’s own business and not her place to interfere.
But as she stood here, looking at Bai Qingxue’s expressionless face, she suddenly felt that it wasn't worth it for Lu Xueqing.
That feeling of it being "unworthy" was light—so light she didn't want to admit it—yet heavy enough that she couldn't pretend not to see it.
She didn't need Bai Qingxue to be overwhelmed with gratitude.
She just felt that when one person was that good to another, even if they couldn't respond, they should at least know. Knowing was enough.
But did Bai Qingxue know? Looking into those light-colored, empty eyes, she was suddenly unsure.
Did this person actually know what Lu Xueqing was doing?
Did she know what it meant for someone to be willing to bring a bowl of medicine every day?
Did she know that behind those reheated medicines was a person sitting by her bed watching her face, sitting there for an entire day at a time?
Su Zhaoyan suddenly felt that Bai Qingxue didn't seem human.
Humans weren't like this.
Humans would be moved, would feel guilty, would be at a loss, or would pretend not to see.
But Bai Qingxue’s lack of acknowledgment didn't seem like an act.
Su Zhaoyan didn't know why she felt uncomfortable.
She was clearly just a spectator, and a spectator shouldn't get drawn into the play.
But she was uncomfortable nonetheless. Uncomfortable for Lu Xueqing. Uncomfortable for the medicine that had been reheated so many times. Uncomfortable for Bai Qingxue’s empty eyes.
She pulled back her smile and looked at Bai Qingxue.
“You,” Su Zhaoyan spoke, her voice deeper than usual, “I really don't know if you’re a piece of wood or if you simply have no heart.”
Bai Qingxue raised her head and glanced at her.
That glance was so faint that Su Zhaoyan couldn't read anything from it.
There was no defense, no confusion, no hurt. She just looked at her, then retracted her gaze, picked up her teacup, and took a sip.
Su Zhaoyan waited for a while, only to receive a single sentence.
“The tea is cold.”
Su Zhaoyan was stunned.
She suddenly didn't know what to say.
What she wanted to talk about wasn't the tea; it was Lu Xueqing.
Su Zhaoyan suddenly felt it was all pointless.
She stood up and brushed off non-existent dust from her robe.
“Next time, drink it a bit warmer.”
With that, she turned and walked toward the courtyard gate without looking back or saying goodbye. Her steps were light, her red clothing looking like a moving ball of fire in the twilight.
Bai Qingxue sat under the old plum tree, watching that red figure disappear around the corner of the stone steps.
The courtyard grew quiet. The wind blew through the leaves of the old plum tree, making a rustling sound.
She looked down at the teacup in her hand.
She had heard every word Su Zhaoyan said. Shen Yuan, the Xuanyin Demonic Sect, the Northern Region—she would think about those things, but not now.
She had also heard about Lu Xueqing.
Warming the medicine every day, reheating it as it went cold. Doing so day after day.
She knew.
Of course she knew Lu Xueqing came every day, knew Lu Xueqing sat under the old plum tree waiting for her, and knew that when that bowl of medicine was brought to her, it was always warm—not scalding, but just right.
Su Zhaoyan called her cold, called her a piece of wood, said she had no heart.
Bai Qingxue didn't know how to argue.
Perhaps Su Zhaoyan was right; she truly didn't know how to express herself.
But it wasn't that she had no feelings.
On the day she woke up, when Lu Xueqing had lifted her sleeve, when those lips had pressed against her, and when that red mark had been left on her forearm.
Bai Qingxue had been awake, but she hadn't opened her eyes.
She didn't know if she hadn't had time to open them, if she didn't want to open them, or if... she had given her tacit consent.
But in the end, Bai Qingxue had let Lu Xueqing do it.
What had she been thinking at that moment? She hadn't been thinking. She had simply kept her eyes closed, motionless, as if she were still unconscious. She didn't know what she was indulging, nor did she know why she was indulging it.
Perhaps it was because she didn't know how to refuse. Perhaps it was because she didn't want to refuse.
Bai Qingxue couldn't say.
Bai Qingxue lowered her head and looked at her forearm.
Right now, her arm was covered by her sleeve, and nothing could be seen. That red mark had long since faded; after so many days, nothing remained. But she remembered what it looked like when it was there. A petal of a red plum blossom fallen upon her fair skin, a piercingly bright red.
It was something Lu Xueqing had left behind, yet she never mentioned it.
Did that count as being cold?
She didn't know, and she couldn't explain it.
Rate on N.U.
