The journey back to the sect was uneventful. Or at least it should have been. The Icefang Bear was dead, and he had collected the Frostdew Essence Flower without any hiccups and carefully stored it in a pouch at his waist. It shouldn't haven taken more than two hours for Xuan to return to the sect.
But soon Xuan realized that reality wasn't as great as imagined.
As he walked, an unsettling sensation crept over him. At first, it was subtle—a rustling in the underbrush, the faint sound of movement in the distance.
Then he noticed it. Shapes moving in the shadows, pairs of glowing eyes reflecting the dim lantern light. He quickened his pace, his grip tightening on the strap of his lantern.
Wild animals.
The smell of blood from his chest wound was probably like a beacon, drawing predators toward him. If it was a day before, he wouldn't have minded that. It would have served as good practice. But now he was injured and exhausted. Plus the blood was like telling the animals his position at any given time. He wouldnt even be able to run.
"Not good," he muttered, sweat beading on his forehead.
Xuan's thoughts raced. He had his Extreme Speed ability, but it was only good for a short burst—he had two seconds of blinding speed left. It wouldn't get him far.
Hastening his steps, he pressed on. The animals followed at a distance, their numbers growing. He could feel their eyes locked on him, could hear their soft growls and the crunch of their steps through the foliage.
As the tension built, a sound broke through the oppressive silence—voices. Human voices.
Xuan's pace quickened. Ahead, he could make out the shapes of several figures moving along the forest trail. Their robes, marked with the Venomthread Sect's insignia, stood out against the muted colors of the Ebonshade Thicket. Relief flooded through him.
The wild animals following him must have noticed too. Their predatory advance slowed, and some of them melted back into the forest shadows, their glowing eyes disappearing one by one. Predators were cunning, and they instinctively avoided humans in numbers.
For Xuan that was good news. He pressed forward. As he drew closer, the figures turned toward him, their voices fading mid-conversation.
One of them, a young man with a lean frame and sharp features, looked at Xuan in surprise, as he took in his core disciple uniform. Xuan's missing arm and bloodstained and broken robes over his chest also didn't help his first impression.
"Senior Brother…" the man said cautiously. He hesitated, then bowed slightly, the others following suit.
Another disciple, a woman with braided hair and a curious expression, couldn't help but murmur under her breath, "He's just a boy…"
The lean man shot her a quick glance before straightening. "Greetings, Senior Brother. We didn't expect to encounter a core disciple out here." They were a group of three inner disciples on their way towards deeper parts of the forest.
Xuan inclined his head, his face composed though the throbbing pain in his chest made it difficult to focus. "I'm just passing through," he said simply.
The group exchanged glances, their wariness evident. To them, Xuan was an anomaly. Core disciples were typically older, seasoned cultivators—not boys who appeared barely ten years old. And then there was his missing arm and the blood staining his robes.
"Forgive me, Senior Brother," the last disciple piped up, a burly man with a scar cutting across his cheek. "Are you… injured? Do you need assistance?"
"I'm fine," Xuan replied quickly, his tone curt but not unkind. He didn't want to linger here any longer than needed. Besides, ever since Uncle Jin betrayed him he found it a bit difficult to trust strangers offering help.
The burly man nodded, though his expression remained skeptical. "Understood, Senior Brother. Safe travels."
"Safe travels," Xuan echoed.
The group bowed again, stepping aside to let him pass. As he continued down the path, he could feel their eyes on him, their whispered conversations resuming behind him.
"That boy's a core disciple? At that age?" the woman murmured.
"And with one arm…" the young man with a lean frame added, his voice trailing off in disbelief.
---
The rest of Xuan's journey back was uneventful. The group of three disciples had cleared the path ahead, their presence likely scattering any remaining threats. With his lantern lighting the way, Xuan pushed forward, his pace steady despite the ache in his chest.
Soon he reached the sect, the gates feeling like a lifeline as he stepped through them and quickly made his way to his abode.
Once back at the Jasmine Garden, Xuan dropped the lantern near the door and gently set the pouch containing the Frostdew Essence Flower on a nearby table. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sank onto his mattress, his body screaming for rest.
His eyelids fluttered, the events of the day already beginning to blur as fatigue dragged him toward unconsciousness. But just as he started to drift off, a sharp, pulsing pain radiated from his chest, jolting him awake.
His hand instinctively went to the wound. The ache was worsening, and the sticky warmth of fresh blood seeping through his robes reminded him of the wound.
Initially, he had dismissed his chest wound as a mere flesh wound. It had stung and bled, but he thought it was manageable.
Now, though, the pain was intensifying. A sharp, throbbing ache pulsed with each breath, and the fabric of his robes was sticky with blood that hadn't stopped flowing. He peeled the torn material back slightly, grimacing at the sight. It wasn't just a scratch; the wound was deeper than he had realized, and he was losing more blood than he could afford.
Panic flickered at the edge of his thoughts. This was worse than he had anticipated.
The wound needed treatment, but he had no idea how to handle it. His thoughts turned to Master Shen, but he hesitated. Something about Shen still didn't sit right with him.
Instead, he thought of someone else.
"Big Sis Yue," he murmured.
Lan Yue had been kind to him in the Resource Hall, and being near to her made him feel safe for some reason. He didn't know why, but he felt a sense of trust in her. Besides, she seemed knowledgeable about medicinal supplies, Xuan convinced himself.
He stood, retrieving his sect token and heading toward the Resource Hall with a quick pace.
---
Lan Yue was at her post, her sharp eyes lighting up with surprise as Xuan approached. "Back so soon? Need Big Sis to help you out again?" she teased with a playful grin. But the moment her gaze fell on his pale face, torn robe, and the blood staining his chest, her expression shifted entirely.
"What happened?" she asked sharply, as she stepped closer to examine him.
Xuan hesitated before explaining briefly, avoiding any mention of Extreme Speed but clearly stating that the Icefang Bear was the source of his wounds.
Lan Yue leaned in, inspecting the wound carefully. Relief flickered across her face as she sighed softly. "It looks worse than it actually is. The blood loss is the real issue here—it's no wonder you're pale. But you'll be fine if you treat it properly."
She turned toward the shelves behind her and retrieved a small jar of salve. "This will stop the bleeding and help with the healing, but you need to clean the wound first. Wash it thoroughly, preferably in warm water, and then apply this on the wet skin."
Xuan nodded and reached for the jar, but she held onto it for a moment longer, her sharp gaze locking onto his. "This isn't free, by the way. You'll have to pay it back later," she said with a hint of her usual teasing tone, though concern still lingered in her eyes.
"Thank you, Big Sis Yue," Xuan said earnestly, taking the jar from her hands.
Lan Yue's gaze softened, and a small smile crossed her lips. "You should treasure your life more." For some reason she felt like she just had to take care of this young core disciple.
Then, as Xuan turned to leave, her eyes fell on his torn sect robe. "Hold on," she called out, stopping him mid-step. "That robe's ruined. Bring it back to me later, and I'll get you a new one. Call it customer service."
Xuan blinked in mild surprise, but her words carried an undertone of care that didn't escape him.
Lan Yue crossed her arms, her sharp gaze softening. "I'll check on the wound when you bring the robe back. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone," she added lightly, though her intent was clear—she wanted to ensure the salve worked and that his injury wasn't worse than it seemed.
"Alright, Big Sis Yue," Xuan said, glad he went to her for help.
---
Back at the Jasmine Garden, Xuan made his way to the small lake behind the house. Situated on the opposite side of the garden, the lake was nestled in a quiet corner, bordered by smooth stones. It had entrances from both the main house and the smaller servant quarters, making it a shared space within the complex.
Xuan set the jar of salve on a flat stone at the water's edge and shrugged off his outer robe, revealing the torn and bloodied undershirt beneath. His chest wound throbbed faintly as he peeled away the fabric and stepped into the cool water.
The shock of the temperature sent a shiver through him, but it was refreshing in its own way. He crouched near the edge, carefully splashing water over his chest to clean the dried blood and dirt from the wound. Each movement brought a sharp sting, drawing occasional winces from his lips.
Once satisfied, he reached for the salve, dipping his fingers into the jar. The cool paste felt soothing as he applied it directly to the wound, working methodically to cover every part of the gash.
As Xuan focused on his task, the faint sound of petite footsteps reached his ears. They came from behind him, light and hesitant. They weren't coming from the house—these steps came from the other side of the lake, near the entrance to the servant quarters.
Xuan's fingers froze, and he instinctively straightened, as he heard a voice: