18 - Crazy! Criticizing the Prime Minister for Being a Servant

A few days ago, Ran Fanyin replaced her wooden practice sword with a silver steel longsword. Its edge was sharp, and it gleamed faintly with a cold light under the sun. Though a common sword, it was one of the finest among common swords. She had now become proficient with a basic set of sword techniques, and her cultivation had advanced significantly, reaching the late stage of Qi Refinement. Overall, everything was developing prosperously. One day, just as she sheathed her sword, dark clouds drifted over leisurely, and autumn rain, mixed with a trace of cold, began to fall. Ran Fanyin had anticipated it early and sat in a small pavilion, draped in a cloak. "Come here," a woman softly called, accompanied by a few light coughs. [It seems that the master’s physical condition is indeed not as described in the book. The book depicted her as robust and rarely sick.] Cultivators generally have strong bodies and spiritual power protecting them. If they frequently fall ill, it can either be due to congenital deficiencies or old ailments, but neither was present in the book’s depiction of Ran Fanyin. This made her current state somewhat different from what was described. Why is it different? Ning Songwu pondered as she walked over slowly, her hair and clothes soaked by the rain carrying a chill. Before she could get close, two flames came over, enveloping her and evaporating the mist. Only then did the woman allow her to sit down. "Give me your hand." She obediently extended her hand, her gaze lingering for a moment before settling on the woman's slightly furrowed brows. Ran Fanyin was naturally pale, and now the cold wind had made her appear even paler. Her silver hair accentuated her face, making it look as white as snow. Her slender fingers rested on Ning Songwu's wrist, cold as ice. Her body seemed to be more frail than usual. On warm days, it wasn't very noticeable, but on a chilly, rainy day, it became apparent. "In the next couple of days, you can find time to establish your foundation. Your cultivation speed hasn’t just been unaffected by your high-grade spiritual roots; it has actually accelerated since incorporating the appropriate techniques." Elder Ran said in a soft voice, retracting her fingers and lazily leaning back in her chair, her thin body hidden within the cloak. "Make a trip to Qingye Peak by yourself." "While you’re at it, fetch this month's medicine for your master." * Ran Fanyin had already informed the relevant people; therefore, when Qin Siyue saw the familiar white-gold color scheme, she knew where the person was coming from and handed over the pre-prepared medicine. "In the box are the pills you need for establishing your foundation. The ones tied up beside it are Ran Fanyin's medicine. That’s all." The young girl pursed her lips and mustered up the courage to ask, "What is the condition of my master’s health?" "Her body itself isn’t the problem; it’s an issue with her heart and lungs," Qin Siyue paused her movements for a moment, then said after some deliberation, "She was born with weak heart meridians, making her more susceptible to illness, especially from cold wind and rain." The young girl’s eyes widened. "What do you mean? Is there a cure?" "Since it’s a congenital deficiency, it can only be managed, not cured." Qin Siyue responded calmly. Ning Songwu sat on the back of a Vermilion Bird as it flew back, feeling oddly uneasy with a heavy heart. Logically speaking, when crossing into a novel, even if the plot doesn’t have to be followed exactly, the character settings shouldn’t change, right? Ever since she easily replaced Lin Yuxue as Ran Fanyin’s disciple, she had felt something was off. And now Ran Fanyin’s character had undergone such a significant change... The subtitles flashed for a moment, then a line appeared out of nowhere: "The plot development is for reference only. You may attempt to deviate from it." Ning Songwu: What? The plot development is for reference only?? This golden finger for world travel is way too careless! [Damn! So everything I know about the plot is just for reference now? New account, don’t mess with me.] "The character endings are fixed and will not violate the predetermined endings." The subtitles flashed again, as if they had gained some sentience. This was the most useful this cheat had been in the past four months. [So, can the character endings be changed?] "They can be, please strive to survive." [Why didn’t you inform me earlier?] "The timing wasn’t right." [Can I return to my original world?] "......" The subtitles flickered and disappeared. Ning Songwu cursed under her breath, what a lousy system, what a lousy book, what a lousy fate. * Ran Fanyin, leaning back in her recliner, was almost drifting off to sleep when her disciple’s voice sounded in her mind, letting her know the person had returned. She propped herself up, calculated the distance, and drew an approximate effective range of the mental voice transmission. It's not very large. She thought, then changed her stance to curl up in the chair again, figuring she had a while until Ning Songwu would return. In this position, she dozed off again. The initially soft sounds of footsteps grew quieter upon seeing her drowsiness. The medicine pack was gently placed on the stone table, and a cool hand rested on her forehead for a moment. By her ear, her disciple's anxious yet clear voice sounded, "Master, you're running a fever." Ran Fanyin weakly hummed, turning her head to escape the hand on her forehead. "Did you bring back all the medicine?" Her voice was hoarse. "I brought it back. Which ones are for reducing the fever?" "You needn’t worry. Go back to cultivating." "Master!" Her hand was suddenly grabbed. She opened her eyes slightly to see a white-robed girl with a high ponytail, eyes filled with concern. [How can someone be so strong?] [Next time, I mustn't let her be exposed to the cold wind.] [This body is really too weak.] [Could this turn into pneumonia? Ehh, do they have the concept of pneumonia here?] [......] In her mind, the girl's vacant voice echoed, blending with the blurred figure before her, slowly etching into the woman's eyes, merging into her heart. It was nothing more than two words, concern. And it was sincere concern. The woman closed her eyes again and said hoarsely, "Carry me back to the room. Someone will come to prepare it later." Ning Songwu leaned over, formed a hand seal, and steadily picked up the weakened person. A layer of spiritual energy shielded them from the moisture, enveloping them and blocking the thin mist from the rain. All her attention was focused on her steps, not noticing the person in her arms turning slightly inward, seeking a deeper refuge.