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

**Chapter 57: The Red String** Ning Song Wu was in a state of complete panic, her mind a tangled mess. Fortunately, she still had the presence of mind to quickly get up and seek someone knowledgeable in medicine. Qing Mu Zi stood distantly at the bottom of the steps, accompanied by Cen Ran and He Lan Mian Mian, engaged in some conversation. Suddenly, they saw Ning Song Wu rush out frantically, her body stained with a considerable amount of blood. The three of them immediately hurried over. Ning Song Wu grabbed Qing Mu Zi desperately, her face streaked with tears she hadn't yet had time to wipe away. "Please, I beg you, save my master, save my master..." Seeing Ning Song Wu in such a state, Qing Mu Zi had a rough idea of what condition Ran Fan Yin was in. He quickly told Ning Song Wu, "I'll go see the Venerable now. You must immediately go to the Alchemy Room and fetch Cheng Yun Huan to come at once!" Without any more words, Ning Song Wu dashed towards the Alchemy Room. Cen Ran and He Lan Mian Mian rushed into the room, spotting Ran Fan Yin weakly propped up against the bed, her chin and body covered in blood. They were both struck with panic. "Master!" "Venerable…" Ran Fan Yin’s illness lasted a month. Cheng Yun Huan set aside all other affairs to stay at the Alchemy Workshop, concocting various pills for Ran Fan Yin. Ran Fan Yin had long since moved back to the Rong Ku Pavilion, and batch after batch of medicines were continuously sent there. Fortunately, owing to her naturally superior constitution—the advantage of being the Venerable of the Northern Fai—the injury wasn't too grave a threat to her. After a month, thanks to everyone's care and the ample rest they allowed her, Ran Fan Yin's body had mostly recovered. Any remaining issues were minor and could be resolved with proper recuperation. This was Cheng Yun Huan's personal diagnosis. Throughout that month, Ning Song Wu had not come to see Ran Fan Yin, almost as if she had vanished from the face of the earth. The sword that Ran Fan Yin had forged at such a great cost had fully solidified. Jiang Yue retrieved the sword, sharpened the blade, and brought it to Rong Ku Pavilion. "Ran Fan Yin, this is the sword you forged." Jiang Yue, with both hands, presented the entirely crimson sword to Ran Fan Yin. The intricate phoenix totems carved by Ran Fan Yin herself on the sword blade were exquisitely detailed. Ran Fan Yin accepted the sword, her expression complex, and gently traced the blade with her fingers. Meanwhile, in the Alchemy Workshop on Bei Fa Mountain... Ning Song Wu appeared almost lifeless, her body showing no sign of breath, her clothes soaked in horrifying amounts of blood, lying unnervingly still on the bed. The bright red cinnabar mark on her brow only emphasized the pallor of her skin. Cheng Yun Huan and Qing Mu Zi examined her personally. Cheng Yun Huan busied herself stopping the bleeding while Qing Mu Zi fetched medicine from the cabinet, murmuring with each handful, "Seven years ago, she was brought here once... Just recently, her master was also brought here... It seems this Alchemy Workshop and Rong Ku Pavilion are really tied by fate..." Ran Fan Yin stood at the bedside, her gaze fixed intently on the unconscious Ning Song Wu, her eyes frighteningly red, her fists clenched so tightly the bones showed white. "By great luck, it didn't pierce her heart—missed by just a hair. But the sword's energy injured her heart meridian; it's still very dangerous." Cheng Yun Huan extended her hand towards Ning Song Wu’s collar but hesitated: "… This… I need to stop her bleeding, but..." Ran Fan Yin softly replied, "I'll do it." Cheng Yun Huan nodded, handing over some medicine and gauze from nearby. "I've already sealed her major acupoints. You just need to apply the hemostatic medicine and bandage her tightly. I'll take care of the rest and prepare the medicine." With that, Cheng Yun Huan and Qing Mu Zi left the room. Ran Fan Yin slowly sat by the bed, her hands trembling violently as she gently undid Ning Song Wu's blood-soaked clothing. Seeing Ning Song Wu's closed eyes and the strikingly red cinnabar mark on her brow, Ran Fan Yin covered her mouth, tears streaming from her eyes. She wished, if only she could be the one injured instead. This child… from childhood to adulthood, her life had been so turbulent. Why… did such punishments continue to befall her? Ran Fan Yin could not imagine what would have happened if she hadn’t caught Ning Song Wu in time. Would the person lying here still have their life? What if… she had died… Ran Fan Yin had never cried so before. In her over a hundred years of life, devoid of joy or sorrow, but if this person before her were to die… she cried with a shuddering body, her throat painfully holding back any sound. Ning Song Wu remained unconscious for half a month. Ran Fan Yin stayed by her bedside every single day, not leaving even for a moment. She knew this child had never been able to be without her. If she woke up and saw her master the first moment she opened her eyes, would that not bring her some peace? However, Ning Song Wu's state did not improve as expected. Half a month later, not only did she remain comatose, but she also suddenly developed a high fever. The Alchemy Workshop was bustling with people coming in and out. Cen Ran and He Lan Mian Mian went out frantically in search of herbs, some rare ones requiring a trip to the Herb Pavilion. Cheng Yun Huan, in addition to making pills, had also to deal with matters concerning Lan Ze. Given that the Lan family was a reputable household, Cheng Yun Huan couldn't impose harsh punishments but instead expelled Lan Ze from Northern Fai for deliberately harming a fellow disciple. Yet even that brought a significant loss of face to the Lan family, delivering a severe blow to Lan Ze. Ran Fan Yin, looking haggard, still remained by Ning Song Wu’s bedside, changing wet towels on her forehead, feeding her water when she mumbled about thirst in her unconscious state. Ran Fan Yin kept holding Ning Song Wu's right hand, continuously transmitting her vitality into her. "Master… Master…" Ning Song Wu murmured softly, her brow knitted in pain from the fever. "I'm here… I'm here." Ran Fan Yin gently comforted, clutching Ning Song Wu's hand tightly. "Don't kill me… don't leave me…" Ning Song Wu whimpered, her head faintly moving, tears trailing from her eyes into her hair. Ran Fan Yin’s tears burst forth immediately, her voice trembling. "I won't leave you, never again." "Master… I'm… dying… kiss me… please…" Ning Song Wu cried in her unconscious state, her voice choked with sobs. Ran Fan Yin's tears flowed uncontrollably. She didn't understand, didn't comprehend her own feelings. But she knew she wanted to cherish this person. Ran Fan Yin steadied herself, slowly leaning down, her body trembling as she pressed her lips to Ning Song Wu's pale and feverish lips, their tears mingling and pooling at their mouths, tasting bitter. As their soft lips and teeth intertwined, countless images flashed swiftly in her mind. Despite her weakness, she endured. She immediately called for sandalwood, crystal, and other materials, personally decorating the sword. The hilt was wrapped in a whole piece of crystal, shimmering and transparent, perfectly matching the blade. The grooves on the blade were inlaid with gold threads, depicting an elaborate phoenix spreading its wings and soaring to the heavens. Finally, Ran Fan Yin carved the sword's name—Feng Yu—into a corner beneath the hilt. The entire sword resembled a feather that had fallen from a phoenix, still burning with searing flames. "Senior Brother, take this sword to Ning Song Wu," Ran Fan Yin handed Feng Yu sword to Jiang Yue. Jiang Yue held the sword with a long sigh. "You spent seven years forging this and even used your own blood to consecrate it. Why not give it to her personally, such a precious object?" "I don't want her to know. Just tell her you forged it." Ran Fan Yin replied indifferently. Ning Song Wu had already fallen deeply in love with her. If she knew that Ran Fan Yin personally forged this sword, she would cling even tighter. Besides, Ran Fan Yin disliked causing unnecessary emotional turmoil for others. Whether she was injured or exhausted, it had nothing to do with anyone else. "Sigh… it is indeed a fine sword, even better than your Luo Shuang. I've forged swords for many years but never seen one this good." Jiang Yue reluctantly stroked the blade. "Since you are so insistent, I'll take it to her." Ran Fan Yin nodded quietly, then turned away in silence. In the Rong Ku Pavilion, she cradled the neck of her reliant disciple, feeling the affectionate small gestures on her finger. In the small bamboo grove of Hong Fei Pavilion, she watched Ning Song Wu's clumsy attempts to practice swordsmanship, trying to please her through her efforts. At seventeen, she still had those deep, dark eyes, slightly upturned at the corners—eyes that were enticing and full of wonder, watching her quietly. The first time Ning Song Wu's lips touched hers. The paper bag filled with candied hawthorn. She had said, "Master, I like you… I love you…" I love you. Why isn't it me lying there? In the haze of confusion, Ning Song Wu seemed to grasp at some lifeline, trembling as she slowly opened her eyes, seeing Ran Fan Yin right before her. Tears surged forth even more. "Master…" Ning Song Wu whispered, her hand struggling to rise and clinging to Ran Fan Yin's back, pulling her into a deep kiss. Ran Fan Yin felt Ning Song Wu awaken, shockingly breaking free from Ning Song Wu's grasp, retreating in disbelief, her mind in turmoil. This isn't right. This kind of feeling isn't right… Ran Fan Yin wanted to flee, to escape to an absolutely safe place. This was her disciple! Her disciple! What had she just done? Not only had she failed to guide her properly as a master, but she had initiated such an inappropriate act… Ran Fan Yin turned to leave, but Ning Song Wu cried out, "Master!... Please don't go…" Ran Fan Yin covered her mouth, crying uncontrollably. She couldn't utter a single word but didn't want to face that feeling—how could she? Ran Fan Yin pushed the door open and hurried out. Ning Song Wu struggled to rise, kneeling on the bed and crying out with all her strength, "Master… have you abandoned me…" Night had already fallen, and Ran Fan Yin, distressed and chaotic, instinctively returned to Rong Ku Pavilion. Cang Min was sitting on the steps at the main entrance of Rong Ku Pavilion, and he saw Ran Fan Yin return in a daze. He hurried over to catch her, “Why are you back? Weren’t you in the Alchemy Workshop taking care of your young disciple?” Ran Fan Yin lifted her eyes to look at Cang Min, her gaze filled with a desperate plea, “Let's go to Kunlun Mountain… Take me to Kunlun…” “What? Kunlun? Why are you suddenly talking about going so far away?” “I don’t know… Just take me to Kunlun… I don’t want to stay here… I don't want…” Tears streamed down Ran Fan Yin’s face as she feebly clung to Cang Min's sleeve. Cang Min had never seen Ran Fan Yin like this before, fragile like a child, as though a single touch could shatter her. She no longer resembled the aloof and stern Venerable. Cang Min nodded, “Alright, alright, I'll take you to Kunlun.” “Where did Master go?” Ning Song Wu leaned weakly against the headboard, quietly watching Cen Ran feed her medicine. A flash of sadness crossed Cen Ran's eyes. She lowered her head and said in a subdued voice, “Don’t ask... Here, drink the medicine first.” “It’s been… three days since I last saw Master.” Ning Song Wu ignored the medicine brought to her lips, her face expressionless as she continued, “Where did she go?” “…” Cen Ran turned her head away, set down the bowl of medicine, and remained silent. “Where did she go?” Ning Song Wu repeated mechanically, her gaze vacant. “Ning Song Wu, let go of the thoughts you shouldn’t have.” Cen Ran and Ning Song Wu, along with He Lan Mian Mian, had spent so many years together. How could she not see through Ning Song Wu's feelings? If she had feelings for anyone else, it wouldn’t have mattered so much... but it had to be her master. Ning Song Wu spoke woodenly, “Where did she go?” “Master left, she departed from Bei Fa. Ning Song Wu, wake up! Stop being so obstinate!” Cen Ran said, gripping Ning Song Wu’s shoulders in distress. Ning Song Wu’s tears poured out suddenly, her chin trembling violently, yet she continued to say, “Where… did she go?” “Kunlun! Master and Elder Cang Min have gone to Kunlun together. So, give up on your wishful thinking!” “Kunlun…” Ning Song Wu murmured, “Kunlun… why… is she in Kunlun… while I… am still here?” “What?” Cen Ran was stunned. “Where she is… that’s where I am… If Ran Fan Yin isn’t here, then why… should I, Ning Song Wu… stay here either?” It was the first time Cen Ran heard Ning Song Wu call her master by her name. Holding her injured chest and disregarding her lingering fever, Ning Song Wu unexpectedly flipped herself out of bed, stumbling a few steps and nearly falling. Cen Ran hurriedly steadied her, “What are you doing? Get back to bed at once!” “Senior Sister…” Ning Song Wu, with tears streaming down her face, gripped Cen Ran's sleeve desperately. “If you still want me to live, then let me go to Kunlun…” “Ning Song Wu, why don’t you understand? If Master could accept you, she wouldn’t have left you…” “No, no, she loves me, I’m sure of it. She loves me. But she… she’s just a bit cowardly, but I don’t mind. Master has always been timid… It's alright, my courage is enough for both. So I will… I will go and bring her back…” Ning Song Wu cried, her words broken and choked with sobs. “But your body…” Cen Ran’s eyes also filled with tears as she supported Ning Song Wu, not daring to move. “Senior Sister, my life… is with her…” Ning Song Wu pleaded with a gaze filled with utmost humility. “I beg you, let me find her, I beg you.” Cen Ran sniffed, finally nodding, “Alright, I’ll help you.” Since returning to Hong Fei Pavilion, Ning Song Wu had locked herself in her room, copying lessons day and night until her vision blurred. Then she would take her sword to the bamboo grove at the back, practicing swordsmanship maniacally until she was too exhausted to move. He Lan Mian Mian quietly watched from the side. When she saw Ning Song Wu’s sword drop to the ground with a clatter and Ning Song Wu slump to the ground defeatedly, He Lan Mian Mian approached, crouching in front of Ning Song Wu and picking up her sword. “Ning Song Wu, do you love the Venerable?” He Lan Mian Mian asked softly. “…” Ning Song Wu did not reply, her eyes staring vacantly at some nonexistent point. “Since you can’t give her up, what are you doing now?” “…” “You’re indulging, you're degrading yourself. Just because of a minor setback, you've lost all hope. Ning Song Wu, is this all your love is worth?” “He Lan Mian Mian… I’m just very tired. I haven’t given up, it’s just…” “You’re just feeling a bit down. But it’s alright, Ning Song Wu. The Venerable has been cold and distant for over a hundred years, it's not easy to melt that frost. But I saw her cry, she cried for you, do you understand what that means?” Ning Song Wu smiled faintly at He Lan Mian Mian, “I understand. Thank you.” “Prepare well for the Sword Trial Conference,” He Lan Mian Mian patted Ning Song Wu on the shoulder. Ning Song Wu nodded. She looked past He Lan Mian Mian's shoulder and saw Jiang Yue approaching, hastily standing up, “Elder Jiang Yue.” He Lan Mian Mian turned and also respectfully bowed, “Venerable Jiang Yue.” Jiang Yue handed Ning Song Wu the Feng Yu sword, meticulously wrapped in silk cloth, “Take this sword and use it well in the Sword Trial Conference.” Ning Song Wu took it, feeling a strange sense of familiarity as she weighed it in her hand. She asked in confusion, “Where did this sword come from?” Jiang Yue's face showed difficulty, only saying, “Do not ask. Just know that it is an exceptional sword. Make good use of it.” Ning Song Wu uncovered a bit of the silk cloth, gripping the Feng Yu sword’s hilt. An inexplicable sense of familiarity suddenly welled up in her heart, and the jade pendant on her chest seemed to warm. She called out urgently to Jiang Yue, who was about to leave, “Elder Jiang Yue!” Jiang Yue turned slightly, “What is it?” “This sword… Does it have something to do with Master?” For some reason, she just had that intuition. Jiang Yue sighed, remaining silent for a long time before saying, “You’re sharp, think about why your master bled so much the other day.” Ning Song Wu trembled, looking at the Feng Yu sword in her hand, the crimson blade painfully dazzling to her eyes. Could it be… forged with her master’s blood? Jiang Yue added, “I shouldn’t have kept it from you. Ran Fan Yin spent seven years forging this sword, new scars overlapping old wounds on her wrist. Her weakened state was due to her travels between Rong Ku Pavilion and the forge. Finally, she offered her own blood to consecrate the sword. Ning Song Wu, take good care of it. Every detail of this sword was crafted by your master’s hand, imbued with so much of her blood!” Ning Song Wu bit her lip tightly, tears uncontrollably pouring down. She suddenly recalled her master's cold, distant voice: “My injury… has nothing to do with you.” This blood-red sword, held in her hand, seemed to burn with a sense of connection, resonating with the blood in the jade pendant around her neck, softly vibrating with life. [No pop-up ads on this site; permanent domain]