Endless darkness, a deathly silence.
At this moment, Bai Qingxue felt as though she were floating in a boundless, weightless body of dark water.
She felt as if her heavy limbs were filled with seawater, every inch of her skin seeping with cold.
The cold did not invade from the outside; it seeped outward from the depths of her marrow, as if she were slowly freezing from the inside out.
Even her consciousness felt like a bubble trapped deep within the ice, suspended and motionless, able to perceive but unable to budge a single inch.
Even the once-violent restriction inside her had reined in all its hostility, curling its burning body into a tight coil like a hibernating viper.
Suddenly, a crack of light split the darkness ahead.
At first, it was only a paper-thin line, like a curtain sliced open by a blade. Light seeped through the gap, casting a somewhat blinding white glow.
Soon after, the light expanded continuously through the darkness, illuminating the frozen waters of her consciousness inch by inch.
The light touched the edges of her perception, bringing with it a strange sensation.
It felt as if something were swimming toward her from far away, stirring the frozen silence around her.
Then, a figure stepped out from the halo of light.
The figure emerged from the light, its outline shifting from blurry to distinct, walking with a calm, gentle stride.
It was a slender frame, a familiar silhouette that made Bai Qingxue's heart skip a beat.
A sense of familiarity rising from the depths of her soul surged over her like a tidal wave, nearly drowning her.
Bai Qingxue was certain she had seen this figure before—perhaps in the stone room with the ice coffin in the Nanhuai ruins, or perhaps in some forgotten corner deep within her sea of consciousness.
The silhouette seemed etched into a level deeper than memory; her body recognized it even before her consciousness did.
Yet, the person's face was shrouded in a brilliant white light.
The light was soft yet impenetrable, as if someone had draped a veil of flowing gauze over their features.
Bai Qingxue tried to focus her gaze, trying to discern the outline of eyes, a nose, or lips from the light. But every time she was on the verge of seeing clearly, the lines blurred again, like a reflection on water rippled by the wind.
She could only capture fragmented details.
The smooth, gentle curve of the jaw, the slender, elegant line of the neck, and the shoulders warmly enveloped in light.
Yet, she could never piece them together into a complete face.
The figure drew closer, step by step.
Though the figure made absolutely no sound, with every step, Bai Qingxue felt a strange vibration beneath her feet, as if something were being crushed and reconstructed by the stride.
It was as if the person were traversing layer upon layer of years, each layer shattering underfoot into fine dust of light.
Finally, she stopped in front of Bai Qingxue.
Then, a hand slowly rose.
The fingers were long and as lustrous as jade, resembling a meticulously polished jade carving more than any human hand.
At this moment, that hand exuded an unearthly chill.
The coldness had already begun to emanate as she raised her hand, as if tiny ice crystals were condensing in the air around her fingertips, flickering briefly in the light before silently dissipating.
Carrying the same sense of familiarity as the silhouette, the hand drew closer to Bai Qingxue's cheek.
An inch, then another. Bai Qingxue could see the outline of the fingertips growing clearer in the light, feeling the chill approaching the faint warmth of her skin.
Bai Qingxue wanted to move, to turn her head away from the hand, to take a step back and open up some distance, to open her mouth and ask, “Who are you?”
But her consciousness seemed frozen by that light.
She could neither move nor speak.
The fingertips were now only a hair's breadth away from Bai Qingxue's skin.
Just as that coldness was about to touch her warmth, Bai Qingxue shuddered violently.
“Mnh...”
A very soft groan escaped her throat.
The heavy darkness began to shatter like an ice sheet struck by a hammer. Cracks spread outward from the center, and light flooded in through the fractures.
Bai Qingxue's consciousness drifted upward, rising from the surface of that dark body of water, passing through a melting layer of ice, breaking through the thinning darkness, and ascending toward a spreading, warm yellow glow.
Although her eyelids still felt heavy, light was seeping in from the outside. This light was different from the white glare in her dream; it was warmer and gentler, carrying the faint, toasted aroma characteristic of a burning oil lamp.
Bai Qingxue slowly opened her eyes.
Her vision was blurry for the first few breaths.
Everything swayed, the edges bleeding outward as if soaked in water, making it impossible to distinguish shapes.
But soon, the face before her gradually came into focus.
Lu Xueqing's face was right before her.
At this moment, Lu Xueqing's hair was draped over the sides of her face, with a few strands stuck to her cheeks by sweat or tears. Her hair was messier than usual, as if she had been keeping watch for a long time without a chance to tidy herself up.
There were dark, bluish-purple shadows under her eyes, looking exceptionally deep in the dim glow of the oil lamp.
Lu Xueqing sat on the edge of the bed.
One of her hands was gently brushing the silver hair on Bai Qingxue's forehead, her finger pad resting against the skin along the hairline. The movement was so light, as if she were afraid of waking her, or perhaps repeatedly confirming her temperature through that small patch of contact.
As for her other hand, Bai Qingxue's gaze fell upon it.
That hand was hovering right beside Bai Qingxue's cheek, palm facing inward, fingers slightly curled.
Lu Xueqing's fingertips were only a hair's breadth away from her skin.
It was the exact position where that cold hand from her dream had stopped, just before touching her cheek.
Bai Qingxue's gaze shifted from Lu Xueqing's fingers to her eyes.
At this moment, tiny, unshed droplets of moisture still clung to Lu Xueqing's eyelashes, refracting small points of light in the dim glow of the oil lamp, like frost clinging to dry branches in winter.
How could one describe Lu Xueqing's expression?
It was far too difficult to put into words.
Worry, anxiety, exhaustion, and sheer ecstasy.
All these emotions surged up at once, only to be suppressed by her in the very same instant.
The corners of Lu Xueqing's lips tried to curve into a smile, but before it could even form, the tears welling up in her eyes suppressed it once more.
“Junior Sister Bai! You... you're finally awake!”
Lu Xueqing's voice carried the hoarseness of someone who had just cried, trembling uncontrollably.
Even the hand resting on Bai Qingxue's forehead shook slightly.
Her finger pad pressed against the skin with a light yet solid touch, as if she were using this tiny point of contact to repeatedly prove to herself that she wasn't dreaming.
Bai Qingxue did not speak immediately.
She stared into Lu Xueqing's eyes, her gaze never wavering.
She could feel her internal state slowly returning to normal.
The violent aura of the restriction had mostly settled, and the burning pain had subsided into a mild, dull ache. A trace of soreness lingered in her meridians, but there was no severe tearing or damage.
Spiritual power was slowly refilling her mostly empty dantian, like spring water seeping back into a dried-up riverbed.
Bai Qingxue's gaze shifted away from Lu Xueqing's face, scanning the stone room.
The stone room was not large, carved from natural rock. The stone walls were rough and uneven, their edges marked with fine lines eroded by cold air, like claw marks left by ice on the stone surface.
A few slender stalactites hung from the ceiling, droplets of water condensing at their tips, gleaming faintly in the light of the oil lamp.
Spread beneath Bai Qingxue was a folded outer robe, its worn fabric instantly recognizable to her.
It was Lu Xueqing's casual attire—the old robe she often wore on Xueji Peak, its collar slightly frayed.
The Frost Moon Chant lay on a stone platform within her reach, its body covered by a thin membrane of spiritual power, without a single crack on its surface.
“How long... have I been unconscious?” Bai Qingxue's voice was dry and hoarse, carrying the slight scratchiness of someone who hadn't spoken in a long time.
“Two days,” Lu Xueqing said, quickly wiping the corner of her eye with her sleeve, as if trying to get it over with before Bai Qingxue could notice.
She made an effort to steady her voice.
“After the malevolent golem went wild that day, the ice cave collapsed severely. Han Muchun played with fire and ended up in a pathetic state, chased by the golem before she somehow used some secret technique to escape. Zhao Yue and the people from the Northern Underworld Sword Sect reacted quickly and withdrew amidst the chaos. However, they seemed to have gone to search for other spiritual items and didn't turn back to pursue us.”
Lu Xueqing paused, her gaze dropping slightly to rest on her knuckles, which were pressed against her knees.
“As for Ning Qinghan, after protecting us as we withdrew, she said she had to investigate some matters and left. She said she would return, but didn't say when.”
Bai Qingxue listened in silence.
The information slowly sorted itself in her mind, falling into place.
Han Muchun's schemes falling through and Zhao Yue being focused solely on the Dao Discourse points were both within her expectations. Only Ning Qinghan's reaction was intriguing.
But Bai Qingxue had no desire to look into it deeply at this moment; her gaze returned to Lu Xueqing's face.
Lu Xueqing seemed slightly uncomfortable under Bai Qingxue's gaze.
She withdrew her fingers from Bai Qingxue's forehead and rested them on her knees, her knuckles slightly curled as if searching for something to hold onto.
Lu Xueqing wanted to look away, her lips twitching.
Yet, inexplicably, her eyes grew a bit redder. Tears gathered once more, like the surface of a lake repeatedly disturbed, becoming easier to ripple with each passing moment.
Bai Qingxue stared at the face right in front of her.
In those bloodshot eyes, emotions that had been suppressed and resurfaced countless times over the past two days were churning.
Lu Xueqing had indeed changed.
After arriving on Canglan Island, her transformation seemed to have been accelerated by some invisible force.
The senior sister who used to do nothing but brew tea in silence on Xueji Peak, following her with her eyes but never daring to draw close, could now draw her sword and block attacks for her without hesitation, protect her during the collapse of the ice cave, and stay by her bedside without leaving for two entire days.
That silent protection had become steadfast and direct, as if she had finally found a way to express herself without taking a roundabout path. But... Bai Qingxue looked at the face close to her.
She looked at the brows that forced a calm expression but could not hide her exhaustion. She looked at the tears filling her eyes that stubbornly refused to fall, and the droplets trembling on her eyelashes, refracting tiny glimmers of light in the glow of the oil lamp.
Bai Qingxue suddenly realized—or perhaps she had realized it long ago.
Every expression of Lu Xueqing's, every breath, and every trace of exhaustion left behind because of her was saying the exact same thing.
Though the words remained unspoken, Bai Qingxue could hear them all the same.
And so, Bai Qingxue reached out.
Her slightly cool fingertips lifted from the edge of the blanket, crossing the incredibly short distance between them.
It was a distance so short it could be bridged with a simple lift of a hand, yet so long that it had taken Lu Xueqing her entire journey from Xueji Peak to Canglan Island to finally cross it.
Bai Qingxue's fingertips touched Lu Xueqing's cheek, feeling the skin slightly cooled by tear tracks. Then, very gently and slowly, she brushed away the tear clinging to the corner of her eye, leaving a thin, damp trail on her finger pad.
Lu Xueqing froze completely. Bai Qingxue's fingertips lingered on her slightly warm cheek, and beneath her finger pad, she could feel Lu Xueqing's skin growing warmer by the second.
At this moment, a faint ripple stirred in the depths of Bai Qingxue's heart as well.
The feeling was hard to define as either warmth or pain. It was like a very fine undercurrent beneath the ice adjusting its course, carrying an inclination she herself couldn't quite identify as a desire for confirmation.
Bai Qingxue withdrew her hand.
When her fingertips left Lu Xueqing's cheek, a small patch of warmth remained on her finger pad, along with the final trace of moisture from the drying tear.
Bai Qingxue's hand fell back to her side, resting on the edge of the blanket. Then, she closed her eyes briefly, as if putting something back where it belonged.
“Senior Sister Lu, I'm so tired.”
Hearing this, Lu Xueqing's voice softened. “Mm. Sleep a little longer. I'll watch over you.”
Quiet descended upon the stone room once more. The halo of the oil lamp swayed slowly on the rough rock walls, casting their shadows into two outlines—one high and one low, one distant and one close.
The shadows trembled slightly in the light, as if breathing in sync with the subtle flickering of the burning wick.
Bai Qingxue closed her eyes, her breathing gradually slowing.
Lu Xueqing sat on the edge of the bed, watching Bai Qingxue's closed eyelids and steady breathing.
She did not look away. Her fingertips slowly brushed past the silver hair resting on the pillow, carrying a deliberately suppressed chill as she wound the strand of hair around her knuckles, loop by loop.
Though she wound it extremely tight, she did not cause the slightest pain, only pressing the strands into faint, pale marks.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered, and the dim yellow light washed over Lu Xueqing's eyes.
The gentle light in her bloodshot eyes suddenly sank away, replaced by an icy, eerie glow—like the undercurrent of a deep pool on a freezing night, terrifyingly silent.
Lu Xueqing's lips moved, her voice kept extremely low, yet carrying an unmistakable coldness and rigidity:
“Junior Sister Bai, this time... I won't let you face it alone anymore.”
The eerie light in her eyes flickered along with her words, completely devoid of the panic and vulnerability she had shown just moments ago.
At the same time, her knuckles, which had been clutching the silver hair, loosened slightly, only to tighten even harder in the next instant. It was as if she wanted to grasp the warmth before her, this person, and the secret she had hidden for so long, entirely in her own palm.
The shadows on the wall were stretched long and thin by the flame, like silent, spreading vines quietly wrapping around Bai Qingxue's shoulders and neck.
Then, as a gust of wind blew and the flame flickered, they suddenly retracted, leaving behind only the faintest, almost imperceptible cold fragrance in the stone room.
Rate on N.U.
