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

**Chapter 75: Relying on Each Other** In the main hall of Beifa Mountain's sect leader's palace. With hair as white as frost and an aura exuding celestial grace, Hong Sheng Cen sat quietly on the leader’s throne. His eyes were slightly closed, his demeanor as calm and composed as morning dew over a vast landscape. Just his formidable presence alone was enough to command respect throughout the entire Beifa Palace. On either side of the hall sat Cheng Yun Huan and Jiang Yue, both cross-legged in meditative postures. An aura of powerful energy radiated around them. After some time, the three of them ended their practice, exhaling slowly to relax. Jiang Yue glanced toward an empty seat nearby, where Ran Fan Yin was supposed to be. Every so often, the four of them—master and disciples—would gather here to exchange their cultivation techniques, balancing and harmonizing their distinct spiritual energies, aiming to reach new heights. Not a single one of them had missed a meeting in a hundred years. But where was Ran Fan Yin today? "I thought our junior sister was merely late, but it seems she never planned to come this time," Cheng Yun Huan remarked wistfully. Hong Sheng Cen opened his eyes, which were astonishingly clear and bright, having witnessed all the vicissitudes of life. His long years of experience gave him a serene wisdom, a perspective different from his three disciples who were still learning the ways of the world. "I heard Ran Fan Yin has taken a new disciple," Hong Sheng Cen turned towards Jiang Yue. Jiang Yue nodded. "Yes, Master. Our junior sister might be tangled in various affairs." Meanwhile, Ning Song Wu felt her mind go blank, instinctively wanting to run away. But after leaving Ran Fan Yin behind, she hadn't taken more than two steps before stopping. "Because you are my disciple." Ran Fan Yin's words, just before she fainted, kept echoing in Ning Song Wu's mind. Her fists clenched and relaxed at her sides as she struggled, letting out a noise of impatience before turning to carry her back. Ning Song Wu didn't understand medicine. Carrying the severely injured Ran Fan Yin, she threatened, "Don't think I'll be grateful! If I can't find the way back, and you don't wake up, we're both doomed." Her voice echoed around the dark cave, yet there was no response. To soothe her nerves, Ning Song Wu rambled, "Isn't it too overblown that you're the strongest human? Show me some of that master-level power! I won’t respect someone always getting beaten." "So many geniuses you didn’t take on, but me, the utter failure, you chose. Look at you now, injured like this!" "Are you using some sort of trick to get me to improve? I'm telling you, that won't work. I'm as stubborn as they come." "Wake up... I don’t want to owe you." Ning Song Wu's voice gradually softened, from initial complaints to a hint of pleading. In front, a dim light glimmered. Ning Song Wu's eyes brightened. She couldn't tell if it was the way out, but any light was better than groping helplessly in the dark. Though uncertain what dangers lie ahead, Ning Song Wu cautiously approached the blue-glowing opening, sticking close to the rock wall. Peeking inside, she saw a spring of brilliant blue water, with a pile of clothes nearby. On closer inspection, the garments looked like what Ran Fan Yin often wore. Could Master have been bathing here earlier? Ning Song Wu had already noticed that Ran Fan Yin was only in her undergarments, her hair unbound, soaking wet. This cave had numerous passages, and it was clear Ning Song Wu had taken a wrong turn, but at least it seemed safe here. Having thought it through, she gently set Ran Fan Yin down, leaning her against the stone wall. It was chilly, so Ning Song Wu picked up Ran Fan Yin’s clothes and draped them over her. She checked her breath with her hand. "Still alive, huh." Ning Song Wu heaved a sigh of relief, suddenly remembering Ran Fan Yin's wounds were yet to be treated, having been too flustered earlier to consider it. Annoyed, she smacked herself on the head before carefully cradling Ran Fan Yin in her arms again. The unconscious Ran Fan Yin was surprisingly compliant, as if she were a delicate porcelain doll. Ning Song Wu unwrapped her robe to assess the injuries on her back. "Ugh!" Ning Song Wu gasped; what she saw was badly mangled flesh, further complicating her already conflicted feelings. First things first, bandage it up. Setting aside her swirling emotions for the moment, Ning Song Wu tore a piece from her own dress, carefully wrapping Ran Fan Yin's wounds. The area of injury was extensive, and Ning Song Wu's bandaging skills were rather amateurish, leading her to use up far more material than anticipated. In the end, half of Ning Song Wu’s dress had been shredded, leaving her looking rather mismatched in combination with her undergarments. Once done, she clapped her hands in satisfaction as she surveyed her handiwork, Ran Fan Yin all bundled up, and nodded, “Not bad, if I say so myself.” With a mischievous streak, she tied a bow on Ran Fan Yin's right shoulder. Ran Fan Yin, deep in slumber, was oblivious to all this, her brow slightly furrowed as if caught in some nightmare. After making sure Ran Fan Yin was clothed again, Ning Song Wu felt her face grow warm. She inwardly grumbled with envy, admiration, and a hint of frustration, "Damn it! Couldn't tell under her usual outfits, but her figure's really good." But why am I turning red? This isn't right, I have what she has. Could it be, like Lin Yuxue said, I have a thing for girls too? Stay calm! Ning Song Wu, stay calm! Before you stands a five-hundred-year-old woman, not some cradle-snatching predator! Wait, why does it have to be her, anyway? That's unfair! Ning Song Wu was roused by hunger, clutching her stomach as she got out of bed, her steps somewhat unsteady. The thought of dealing with Ran Fan Yin's training exhausted her. Ran Fan Yin no longer ate, so Morningdew Peak was barren of food. Ning Song Wu pushed open the window, unsurprised to see Ran Fan Yin standing near a cluster of dark stocks. Like others on the mountain, these were smaller. Ning Song Wu had no idea what Ran Fan Yin did here daily, yet clearly, she favored dark zinnias, a fixation seen in her name and the gardens spreading across the mountain. Sensing Ning Song Wu's gaze, Ran Fan Yin turned, noticing Ning Song Wu’s pallor without a hint of comment. "Awake." Ning Song Wu asked with guarded hesitance, "Yes, Master, what are we learning today?" Ran Fan Yin's subtle frown barely registered. She was aware of yesterday's events at Chaolu Peak, knowing only fragments: Ning Song Wu had been bullied and solved it using her status as a direct disciple. Ran Fan Yin rarely involved herself in sect affairs, delegating to her junior Cen Ran. To Cang Jun Mountain, she served more as a symbol of authority. The prolonged silence was tormenting. With Ran Fan Yin still staring at her, Ning Song Wu feared she'd done something to offend her again. Frustration bubbled within Ning Song Wu, growing ever stronger. "Why didn't you tell me about yesterday?" Ran Fan Yin’s question caught Ning Song Wu off guard. She hadn’t expected her to investigate such trivial matters, leaving Ning Song Wu puzzled. Rain began pouring down — first a few drops, then in torrents, drumming against the dark leaves. Ran Fan Yin stood in front of them, dry beneath the protection of her magic, her attire gaining an ethereal quality amidst the downpour. Inside, Ning Song Wu couldn't just remain silent seeing her master out in the rain. With a sigh, she grabbed an umbrella and went out, holding it over both their heads. "Master, let's go inside." Ran Fan Yin gazed at Ning Song Wu, appearing as if lost in thought, or looking through her at someone else altogether. Ning Song Wu shivered under her scrutiny, wondering what was wrong with her — was she already losing her mind because of her age? Being slightly shorter, Ning Song Wu tugged at Ran Fan Yin's sleeve with a questioning tone, "Master?" Jolting back to reality, Ran Fan Yin withdrew her gaze and walked ahead. Ning Song Wu followed closely, keeping the umbrella over them. Raindrops splashed onto Ning Song Wu's hem. Ran Fan Yin glanced down and discreetly dried it. Noticing the absence of more rain striking her, Ning Song Wu figured Ran Fan Yin had used a spell. She couldn't quite grasp Ran Fan Yin's depths, a mystery that always left Ning Song Wu uneasy. To her misfortune, Ran Fan Yin seemed especially concerned about her, no escape, no refuge. Once inside, Ran Fan Yin sat at the table. Ning Song Wu shook out the umbrella, then shut the door after entering. Setting the umbrella aside, Ning Song Wu stood before Ran Fan Yin, having already prepared her answer to the question posed earlier: “Master, you are diligent; I did not wish to burden you.” The explanation made sense—it was rare to see Ning Song Wu so considerate. "You've changed." Ran Fan Yin meant that her demeanor was entirely different from the aloofness she displayed before becoming her disciple. Unbothered, Ning Song Wu smiled, “That’s all thanks to you.” “What brings you to say that?” Looking at the hem of her dress, Ning Song Wu softly replied, "Though you appear strict, you're always looking out for me, shielding me, teaching me earnestly. I’m truly grateful." Ning Song Wu's gaze was sincere, and Ran Fan Yin found no trace of resentment in her eyes. Yet such words stirred a sense of guilt within Ran Fan Yin. She spoke softly, quieter than usual, "I am not as good as you say." This was Ran Fan Yin's heartfelt truth, and coincidentally, Ning Song Wu shared the sentiment. However, she knew she couldn't voice her genuine feelings. If displeased, Ran Fan Yin might assign her the daunting task of managing the mountain. Thus, Ning Song Wu quickly replied, "Master, you are indeed that good." Ran Fan Yin watched Ning Song Wu's light smile and sighed inwardly. She remembered that Ning Song Wu hadn't eaten since yesterday and had climbed the mountain. For a mortal, that would be demanding. "Let's go." Ran Fan Yin said, turning to leave. Uncertain of her intention, Ning Song Wu nonetheless followed. Ran Fan Yin summoned her flying sword, taking Ning Song Wu along as they descended the mountain. Along the way, she advised, "If you don't want to trouble me, focus on cultivation. When you grow stronger, they will fear you." Ning Song Wu just murmured in assent, without an explicit response. It was still daylight, and the restaurants were open. Ran Fan Yin led Ning Song Wu to one of the most elegantly decorated establishments. She used a spell to disguise her appearance. Ran Fan Yin wasn't adept at disguises, but it was enough to deceive the townsfolk with only a superficial understanding of magical arts. Ning Song Wu sat with Ran Fan Yin, confused by these unfolding events, but content to have a meal. With little hesitation, she ordered a few dishes and awaited their arrival. Ran Fan Yin sat with eyes closed, her transcendent demeanor annoying Ning Song Wu. She turned her head towards the window, deciding that out of sight was out of mind. Gazing outside, she saw a commotion downstairs—a well-dressed young man was forcefully taking a woman. Ning Song Wu's mood soured, yet she simply pulled her gaze away. Ran Fan Yin opened her eyes and looked at Ning Song Wu. "Do you have any thoughts on that?" Ning Song Wu felt as if Ran Fan Yin was testing her. She pondered for a moment before answering, "As a disciple, my power is limited. I don't want to trouble Master." Ran Fan Yin remained silent, just observing Ning Song Wu, searching for something in her expression. Ning Song Wu felt anxious, masking her indifference with a look of difficulty. Eventually, Ran Fan Yin said, "Let's go," and descended the stairs, seemingly intending to intervene. Relieved, Ning Song Wu quickly followed. By the time Ning Song Wu caught up, Ran Fan Yin was confronting the young master. From the sidelines, Ning Song Wu watched Ran Fan Yin subdue the young master and his followers with violence, then escort the distressed woman home. Though things appeared resolved, Ning Song Wu sensed the woman's hesitation, as if she harbored concerns. Ning Song Wu remained silent, waiting to see the matter through. They reached the woman’s home, a decrepit house, where Ran Fan Yin said, "You're home now." With tears in her eyes, the woman seemed at a loss, standing there trembling, as if afraid. Soon enough, a drunken middle-aged man wobbled out. Seeing the woman, and confirming she was his daughter, his anger flared. He smashed a wine jar, shards scattering. The woman flinched and hid behind Ran Fan Yin. "You came back!" he bellowed. "Didn't I tell you to go with Young Master Chen? You sneaked back? I'll beat you to death!" Hearing this, the woman shook like a leaf. "Father, I didn't run." Her voice trembled, but it failed to evoke any compassion; instead, his rage intensified. His eyes bulging, he snarled, "Lying still? I'll kill you today!" He grabbed a stick, ready to strike. Ran Fan Yin couldn't bear it. She used a spell to freeze the man in place. Ning Song Wu watched the spectacle, finding her seemingly naive master straightforward in her thinking. She asked the shaking woman, "Why didn't you call for help on the way?" Frightened by the spell, the woman backed away, stammering, "Monster!" Ran Fan Yin, momentarily stunned, didn't respond, leaving Ning Song Wu puzzled. Was this truly what humanity’s strongest at five hundred years was like? Ran Fan Yin's odd behavior sparked Ning Song Wu's curiosity. She tugged Ran Fan Yin's sleeve and calmly suggested, "Master, undo the spell. Let's leave." Ran Fan Yin hesitated but remained concerned for the woman. "But what about her?" "She can only save herself," Ning Song Wu replied. Ran Fan Yin disagreed. Leaving the girl behind might lead to her death. Seeing Ran Fan Yin's hesitation, Ning Song Wu felt conflicted. She let go of her sleeve, "Do you have a spell to make someone speak the truth?" Ran Fan Yin noticed Ning Song Wu's serious expression and, suppressing her own doubts, nodded. Ning Song Wu maintained her calm demeanor, "Master, please help. I have questions for her." She pointed at the woman, making her intention clear. Truth spells had little effect on humans, so Ran Fan Yin performed it without concern. Ning Song Wu approached the spellbound woman, watching as fear deepened across her face. Then Ning Song Wu smiled, "Why didn't you seek help along the way?" The woman struggled internally, then resigned herself, robotically responding, "I thought if I explained it to Father, he would forgive me." "Why did your father try to sell you?" "Because of his gambling, I was his debt." "You harbor no hatred toward your father?" "No, I believe he will change once he stops gambling." Ning Song Wu turned to Ran Fan Yin, spreading her hands in exasperation, "Master, no one can save her but herself." Ran Fan Yin wrestled with her decision but finally cast a protective spell on the girl. Ran Fan Yin commented quietly to Ning Song Wu, "Let's go." She turned to leave, her retreat cut a stark figure. After quickly gathering her thoughts, Ning Song Wu followed, trailing at a respectful distance. Ran Fan Yin suddenly stopped, and Ning Song Wu, not paying attention, collided with her back, hurting her nose. "Do you dislike humans?" Ning Song Wu paused her complaint to chuckle, "Of course not." "Good." Ran Fan Yin continued walking. Ning Song Wu watched her back, muttering to herself, puzzled by this “strange” master. Inner struggles stirred as Ning Song Wu had never found dressing someone so challenging. After immense effort, Ning Song Wu finally managed to dress Ran Fan Yin. Because she did it with her eyes closed, Ran Fan Yin's appearance was somewhat disheveled. When Ning Song Wu opened her eyes, she saw the exposed collarbone and elegant neck. Blushing, Ning Song Wu arranged her clothes properly, ensuring nothing was revealed before sighing with relief. Feeling a bit incompetent, Ning Song Wu couldn't help but harshly criticize herself. While she was spiraling, Ran Fan Yin muttered weakly, "Water..." Ran Fan Yin hadn’t awakened, only murmured. There was water nearby. Ning Song Wu approached the spring, the water's temperature dropping sharply as she neared. But with rock walls everywhere, it was the only available water. Without a vessel, Ning Song Wu had to cup it with her hands, her fingers numbing from the freezing shock. She struggled to move her frozen hands upwards. The water was so cold—how was it possible to drink? Ning Song Wu regretted not having learned even a little magic, stuck between options without a way forward. The spring was unusual, and Ning Song Wu could hardly bear it. Feeling her body harden and her steps falter, her thoughts grew increasingly sluggish. Her vision blurred, and even Ran Fan Yin's image grew indistinct. She couldn't hold on, collapsing on the ground while frost crept over her. Then, suddenly, Ning Song Wu's body released an intense heat, melting the frost. Originally, nothing but a fainted figure, Ning Song Wu's eyes slowly opened, revealing an unsettling crimson hue. The Yao Huang awakened, rising slowly, disoriented by the unfamiliar situation. She massaged her temples, sifting through her memories. She recalled she had intended to complicate matters for Ran Fan Yin but ended up being overtaken by Ning Song Wu's consciousness the moment she entered the cave. Digging through Ning Song Wu's memories, the Yao Huang understood the sequence of events, finding a similar complexity of emotions, though hers were tinged more with amusement. Although, with Ran Fan Yin gravely injured, it seemed an opportune moment to dispose of her once and for all. Malice sprouting in her heart, the Yao Huang rose and approached Ran Fan Yin, flames flickering in her hand, illuminating the dim cave more brightly. Recalling the battle five hundred years ago, when this dreaded foe shattered her demonic core with one sword strike, leaving her body and head separated in front of witnesses. The Yao Huang had etched that pain and humiliation into her soul, to be remembered eternally. She sneered, closing in on Ran Fan Yin. "It's time you met your end." "Master, there are many injustices in this world. Our junior sister likes mist, and that's enough," Jiang Yue spoke on Ran Fan Yin's behalf. "For me, this isn’t worth discussing. But as the sect leader of Beifa Palace, I must consider the opinions of my disciples. Furthermore, being sheltered by Ran Fan Yin will inevitably stir envy among others, possibly creating foes for her as she grows. That can't be good for the child." Cheng Yun Huan, after reflecting for a while, interjected, "Master, everything happens for a reason. Let Ran Fan Yin handle it." Hong Sheng Cen considered for a moment, then nodded in agreement. As the lunar month drew to a close, snow on Beifa Mountain thickened, blanketing the tiered palace in a shroud of grayish white. In the courtyard of the Honor and Wither Pavilion, a sizeable round stone table was laden with steaming dishes. Cen Ran sat next to it, casually dining on lunch. Nearby, Luo Sheng stood ten paces from the table, holding an enormous stone pillar above his head in a horse stance. Despite the cold, sweat gleamed on his forehead, contrasting with the scene at the table. His stomach grumbled pathetically as he looked at the two women and one girl indulging in the meal. For nearly a month, Ning Song Wu had recuperated at the Honor and Wither Pavilion. Her injuries mostly healed, her right hand still wrapped in thick cloth. Well cared for by Cen Ran and Ran Fan Yin, her cheeks had grown rounder, her once mischievous air replaced with an adorable essence. She now sat on Ran Fan Yin's lap, who, despite her usual composure, gently fed Ning Song Wu. "Master..." Luo Sheng pleaded miserably, "I've learned my lesson. I'll never tease the junior sister again! I've stood here all morning without a drop of water..." Ning Song Wu's dark eyes focused intently on Ran Fan Yin as the latter kept bringing spoonfuls of food to Ning Song Wu's mouth, eating none herself. Ning Song Wu lifted her right hand to take the spoon. Ran Fan Yin gently restrained her bandaged hand. "Don't move, or your wound will reopen." Cen Ran voiced concern, "Master, Ning Song Wu's right hand is severely injured. She might never wield a sword again. What shall we do?" "If her right hand is useless, she still has her left," Ran Fan Yin replied, unfazed. Unconventionally, Ning Song Wu practiced swordplay with her left hand, which often gave her an advantage against right-handed opponents. "Master, I remember you acquired a vial of flowing jade years ago. Since Jiang Yue Elder can no longer forge swords, perhaps it would be a fitting entrance gift for Ning Song Wu?" Flowing jade, in its liquid form, could merge with any other liquid, enhancing properties for astonishing outcomes. Its significant value lay in its adaptability for transformative potential. While a meal was served, Ran Fan Yin cradled Ning Song Wu and answered Cen Ran, "A fair thought. Ning Song Wu’s constitution is cold-sensitive, and flowing jade's warming properties would greatly benefit her. However, what should we fuse it with?" "You are right. It may not match Jiang Yue's crafted swords but is indeed more essential for Ning Song Wu. As this is a gift from me, my blood should accompany it." Finished feeding Ning Song Wu, Ran Fan Yin set her down, gently ruffling her hair. "Master, please... I've learned my lesson, I'm truly sorry! I'm starving, Master!" Luo Sheng pleaded once more, balancing the stone column woefully. Ran Fan Yin stated, "Come have your meal." Luo Sheng dropped the column and scrambled to the table, devouring the food voraciously. Unable yet to speak, Ning Song Wu observed curiously, her gaze dancing between Ran Fan Yin and Cen Ran’s faces, her eyes sparkling brightly. A sudden tickling in her nose led to a loud sneeze, "Ah—choo!" Luo Sheng froze, his chewing momentarily forgotten. Ran Fan Yin knelt to be eye-level with the tiny Ning Song Wu, took out a white handkerchief, and gently pressed it against her runny nose, speaking softly, "Blow." Ning Song Wu saw Ran Fan Yin's serious expression and grinned with her bright, crescent-moon eyes. She huffed, and the sound of mucus being cleared was audible. "Ugh!" Luo Sheng gagged, spitting out his food in disgust. "Master, that’s nasty!" A maid awkwardly suggested, "Your Highness, shall we handle it instead?" Ran Fan Yin, after cleaning Ning Song Wu’s nose, set the soiled cloth aside, shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’ll tend to Mist personally.” Cen Ran: "..." Luo Sheng: "Ugh..."