59 - A Farewell to Mr. Luo

### Chapter 59 After Bai Zhi finished speaking, her eyes met He Yiman's. Her eyes were filled with pain and conflict, while He Yiman's only reflected indifference, as if Bai Zhi's words did not stir even a ripple in her. "Perhaps there is a misunderstanding. How can she be a traitor when she's your senior sister?" Bai Zhi, with trembling shoulders, stared at He Yiman in the distance. The emotional turmoil aggravated her wounds, causing her to spurt out more blood. Fortunately, White Fan stood further away, avoiding the spray. The scattered blood drops glimmered with a red hue. From behind came He Yiman's calm voice: "Why?" Bai Zhi's emotions found an outlet at He Yiman's question. She extended a finger towards He Yiman, standing behind White Fan. "It's because of you! Pure Yang attacked Fu You because of you. Where were you when Pure Yang attacked? Where were you when our senior sisters were slaughtered? Where were you when Fu You was destroyed?" "That day, Master secretly assigned me a mission to go to the Wildlands." Saying this, He Yiman took out a handkerchief Master had given her that day. It was the first time White Fan had seen this handkerchief. Bai Zhi froze for a moment, but then, upon recognizing the handkerchief, she almost screamed. "You liar! Even now, you're trying to deceive me with a random handkerchief you found somewhere! There's no such place as the Wildlands. Senior Sister wouldn't even lie about this!" She tore the handkerchief into pieces with one hand and raised her arm to strike He Yiman. White Fan reacted quickly, pulling He Yiman away. "Why don't you dodge?" "She's right." He Yiman's tone was indifferent, as if she were talking about someone else. She glanced at the shattered handkerchief briefly before focusing on the vengeful Bai Zhi. This little junior sister once admired her the most. Returning to find Fu You destroyed and being the sole survivor, He Yiman had no way of knowing what Bai Zhi had experienced. The wild screeching of Bai Zhi turned into a choked sob after hearing He Yiman's words. "Why can you speak so lightly about everything? Do you know what that day was like? You saw nothing! I once thought your indifference meant you did not fight for anything or cause trouble. Now I know it’s because you’re cold-blooded. You're like a monster, and Fu You having you is a sin." She drew her sword to strike He Yiman, but just as White Fan extended her hand to pull her away, He Yiman reached for a green flute at her waist. With a subtle lift, the wailing flute sound burst forth, colliding with the incoming sword's aura. Bai Zhi was flung several meters away, rolling several times on the ground. She spat out another mouthful of blood, her trembling hand gripping her sword. "Traitor." White Fan frowned at the girl. She could not intervene in the sect's affairs; she knew only what the rumors told her. She was puzzled, thinking maybe demon cultivators were behind this, as Pure Yang and Fu You, despite being old rivals, never escalated to annihilation. What exactly transpired between the two sects, only this junior sister might know. "Traitor, traitor, traitor!" Bai Zhi kept chanting the word, as if it gave her endless strength. Despite her condition, she managed to stand up. With sword in hand, she charged at He Yiman repeatedly, only to be flung back each time by the green flute. White Fan, unable to watch any longer, turned and asked He Yiman, "Why do you let this happen?" He Yiman did not respond. She merely looked down at her gravely injured junior sister. Bai Zhi screamed in desperation, eyes red with hate, glaring at He Yiman: "I will kill you. One day, I will kill you, you traitor, and bury everyone." "Then wait until you're stronger. Right now, you're too weak." Saying this, she turned and left the stone chamber. White Fan could only follow, unsure of He Yiman's intentions, leaving the sobbing Bai Zhi behind, her cries echoing eerily throughout the underground palace. He Yiman walked briskly. White Fan caught up, asking in confusion, "Why don't you explain? I believe you're not a traitor." "There's nothing to explain. What she saw is the truth." "But your mission to the Wildlands was real. I can testify." "What do you think has kept her alive until now?" He Yiman suddenly stopped walking. White Fan, surprised, ended up ahead of her. Remembering Bai Zhi's words, realization dawned. "She wants to kill you for revenge." "Though Pure Yang was involved in Fu You's destruction, they are too powerful for her to seek vengeance. The invaders were just a disorganized bunch. She has no one to seek revenge on, so she directs her hatred at me." Listening to He Yiman's explanation, White Fan thought she was mad. "Aren't you afraid she'll really kill you?" "She won't be able to harm me before I find the Wildlands. In the chaotic world of cultivation, survival means becoming stronger quickly, especially without the protection of a sect." "I think you're crazy," White Fan looked at He Yiman, incredulous. He Yiman gazed back, studying her face. "I'm just doing what I think is right." "What's your plan now? I thought you would take her with you." White Fan couldn't figure out He Yiman’s intentions, watching her leave her junior sister behind after searching so hard initially. "I'm going to search for clues about the Wildlands." "I thought it would take longer." White Fan sighed longingly, hoping the Wildlands quest would end soon. Emerging from the underground palace, the closing stone door filled her with a sense of unease. Following He Yiman back to the residential area, she watched He Yiman enter a room and retrieve several flutes. Seeing so many green flutes reminded White Fan of the red flute in her storage bag. But how to explain returning it now? "Why take so many flutes?" "I lost one before. Master said to carry extras for self-defense." White Fan felt awkward at the explanation. "I see. It's good to have spares." Noticing White Fan's uneasy expression, He Yiman ignored it and packed the flutes. Since they weren't red, breaking them during use was easier, so it's better to carry more. Outside Fu You Palace, the ruins stretched as far as the eye could see. He Yiman stood staring until White Fan's words broke her reverie. "Does your palace's creeper flower collect spiritual dew?" He Yiman glanced at the flourishing creeper flowers. "No, the spiritual dew evaporates with the blossoms. If you want it, there isn't any." "Isn't it a millennial spiritual tree?" "Lacking spiritual intelligence, it can't cultivate. It won't produce spiritual dew." White Fan regretfully gazed at the blooming flowers. "What a pity." "If you like, you can pick some blossoms for alchemy. They're quite useful." "I see." White Fan stood under the flower tree, inhaling the strong fragrance, feeling intoxicated. Deep breaths made her feel as if she were drinking, her spiritual power circulating rapidly. The surrounding flowers swayed wildly. Her cheeks flushed as if drunk. He Yiman, too, walked under the flowers, watching White Fan. "It seems this place benefits your cultivation." Seeing White Fan's state, He Yiman understood. Staying nearby daily made her accustomed to the strong fragrance. White Fan opened her eyes, looking at He Yiman. She was only a step away from core formation. Although she didn't know what opportunities lay ahead, the creeper flowers were certainly useful to her. "I want to stay here for a while." "Miss Bai, it seems you've forgotten that this place is not safe. People could arrive at any moment. We can't stay here for long." White Fan had been so absorbed in her cultivation that she had forgotten about this. The journey here had been unexpectedly safe, and White Fan still held onto her initial impressions of the cultivation world, which led her to make that impulsive statement. "Oh, I forgot. But could you let me stay for just two more hours?" White Fan didn't want to miss this excellent opportunity. Before attempting core formation, she wanted to solidify her foundation to better withstand the impending tribulation. Seeing White Fan’s pleading look, He Yiman was surprisingly lenient, as if this person had reverted to the little girl she once was. "I'll wait for you here for two hours." With that, He Yiman leapt onto the overhanging wisteria vine, looking down at White Fan with her legs crossed, her hand holding the flute gently resting on her abdomen. White Fan looked up, seeing the wisteria blossoms clustered behind He Yiman. The swaying flowers moved haphazardly in the wind, making White Fan smile broadly. "Alright, two hours it is." White Fan sat down cross-legged and closed her eyes to meditate, striving to make the most of those two hours. The thick, fragrant spiritual energy eagerly poured into White Fan's body. Whether it was as He Yiman had said, with most of the spiritual essence dispersed within the wisteria blossoms, it mixed with the spiritual energy to form a unique kind of power. As it entered her body, White Fan felt warm all over, as if immersed in a hot spring. Her meridians expanded, absorbing the spiritual energy rapidly, and her internal reserves of spiritual energy soared. Through He Yiman's eyes, White Fan's meditation rendered her as red as a ripe shrimp, clearly intoxicated. Other disciples of the Fu You Palace had exhibited similar symptoms, although most would leave after a half-hour, needing to sleep for three days and nights to recover from the trance. ※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※ Thank you to the angels who voted and nourished me with their love. Special thanks for the [Nutritional Liquid]: Shao Qi: 13 bottles; Thank you all for your support. I will continue to work hard! Previous Chapter Contents Next Chapter Homepage Computer Version Library Comprehensive Novel Directory Popular Novels