Chapter 10: Jealousy

Mingyou Mountain was located in the far north, while Qingshui Village lay at the southernmost edge of the realm.

The journey was long—even for cultivators, it would take four or five days to reach their destination.

After a full day of travel, night fell, and Hanshu decided to let the disciples rest and recuperate.

The inn they stopped at frequently hosted cultivators on missions. The innkeeper, a round-faced woman with a cheerful demeanor, recognized Hanshu and personally came out to greet them, shooing away the attendants. “Esteemed immortals, your arrival brings great honor to our humble inn.”

Hanshu tossed her a mid-grade spirit stone. “We’ll be staying here for the night.”

The innkeeper beamed. “This way, please, this way!”

Shi Luoyi was assigned a top-tier room. It was nearing the human world’s New Year celebrations, and everyone was busy reuniting with their families. Outside, the streets were decorated with lanterns and vibrant festivities, but inside the inn, it was eerily quiet.

Hanshu reminded the disciples not to wander outside. They would depart at first light the next morning.

After returning to her room, Shi Luoyi sat down to meditate and practice cultivation. Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

It wasn’t until the wind tugged at the silk sash tied around her waist that she glanced down at her stomach and realized the issue: they had traveled all day without eating a single bite.

Cultivators at a certain level of cultivation could go days without food. Those who reached the Synthesis stage could even completely abstain from sustenance.

But mortals? Missing even one meal would leave them famished.

Among their group, only Bian Lingyu was mortal. Hanshu was accustomed to leading missions with her strict discipline, never indulging in food or drink in the mortal realm, and her disciples followed suit, ignoring such worldly pleasures.

But what about Bian Lingyu?

In her past life, Shi Luoyi rarely paid him any mind, so she had never considered these matters. But now that the thought had crossed her mind, it wouldn’t leave her alone.

Technically, it wasn’t her responsibility. However, just before entering her room, she had inadvertently caught a glimpse of Bian Lingyu’s face—it was deathly pale.

Bian Qingxuan might have carelessly forgotten, and Bian Lingyu hadn’t said a word, as if his very existence was inconsequential, as though he wouldn’t even open his mouth if he were starving to death.

Shi Luoyi grew increasingly restless. After a long moment, recalling those lifeless eyes and the sins she had committed against him, she finally resigned herself to standing up and seeking out an attendant.

No matter how much she disliked the siblings, she couldn’t bear to watch Bian Lingyu starve to death.

“Excuse me, could you prepare a bowl of noodles for me?” she asked the attendant.

The attendant had worked at the inn for seven or eight years and had seen countless beautiful cultivators. He thought himself immune to such sights, but upon seeing Shi Luoyi, he found himself utterly entranced.

Blushing, he stammered, “Y-yes, of course! I’ll inform Zhao Niangzi in the kitchen right away. Immortal miss, please wait here for a moment.”

Shi Luoyi waited in the main hall for about the time it took to drink a cup of tea before the attendant returned with a steaming bowl of noodles.

She instructed, “Take this bowl of noodles to Room Tian-Yin.”

The attendant hurried to comply.

However, not long after, he returned with the untouched bowl, looking troubled. “Immortal miss, I knocked on the door, but there was no response from inside.”

No response? Could he have fainted from hunger?

A chill ran down Shi Luoyi’s spine. She took the bowl from the attendant, paid with a spirit stone, and headed to Room Tian-Yin. She knocked on the door, but just as the attendant had said, there was no sound from within.

Fearing that something might have happened to Bian Lingyu, she quickly cast a spell to unlock the door, which swung open.

From afar, she saw a huddled figure lying on the bed.

She placed the bowl of noodles on the table and rushed over, gently shaking him. “Bian Lingyu?”

His eyes were tightly shut, and his face was drenched in cold sweat. Remembering that mortals could fall ill, she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

It was scorching hot.

Speechless, she realized he really did have a fever! Just as she was about to leave to fetch a doctor, she noticed that he had opened his eyes at some point.

And her hand was firmly clasped in his.

His large, feverish hand held hers possessively, enveloping it completely within his palm.

Shi Luoyi froze, hesitantly asking, “Are you delirious, Bian Lingyu?” He had always avoided her like the plague, and after what had happened between them, he probably harbored deep psychological scars. If he were conscious, touching her would surely evoke nothing but revulsion.

Looking into his unfocused eyes, Shi Luoyi felt a headache coming on. Cultivators didn’t fall ill, so she had no experience dealing with this kind of situation.

Before embarking on the journey to Qingshui Village, Bian Lingyu had asked Bian Qingxuan to refine numerous Soul-Cleansing Pills for him. After taking the pills, he could move freely during the day, appearing no different from an ordinary person. However, once night fell, the effects of the pills wore off, and he would endure excruciating pain.

His body was now little different from that of a mortal. By evening, he had already developed a fever. Bian Qingxuan hadn’t paid him any attention, nor had Bian Lingyu himself cared much. Such minor discomforts were things they had long since grown accustomed to enduring. Over the years, Bian Lingyu had become used to bearing this kind of pain.

In short, he would be fine once daylight came.

Bian Lingyu’s fever had clouded his mind for a brief moment. Faintly hearing Shi Luoyi’s voice, he initially thought it was just a dream. He inwardly mocked himself—unless it was a dream, there was no way Shi Luoyi would appear by his side.

In truth, over the past two years, he had come to terms with reality and rarely indulged in such foolish, wishful dreams anymore.

He paused for a moment, then instinctively grasped the hand that touched his forehead.

The palm was cool and soft, carrying the delicate texture unique to a woman’s touch.

Almost immediately, he snapped back to awareness—it wasn’t a dream!

Bian Lingyu hesitated for a moment, his thin lips tightening slightly as he awkwardly tried to let go.

And just at that moment, the young girl leaned over him. He heard her ask with slight confusion, “Are you delirious from the fever, Bian Lingyu?”

That sentence planted a dark, insidious seed in his heart, stopping his movements mid-action. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

She murmured softly, “You really are delirious… even the way you’re looking at me has changed.”

“…”

Bian Lingyu remained silent.

She was a blade cultivator who trained diligently and never slacked off despite her noble birth. Though her palms bore faint calluses from her hard work, they were still incredibly soft and delicate.

Bian Lingyu had never been so peacefully close to her before. With a mix of embarrassment and discomfort, he couldn’t help but wonder why she had come.

A flicker of hope began to take root in his heart. His palms grew slightly sweaty, and his breathing quickened.

“Do you still recognize who I am?” Her voice mingled with the wind blowing through the window, carrying a low sweetness. She nudged him gently with her other hand, coaxing him like one would a child: “I’ll go fetch a doctor now. We have a deal—once I get you treated, you’ll forget what happened four months ago, alright?”

Her bright eyes gazed at him expectantly, hoping he would nod in his semi-conscious state.

But the tiny sprout of hope that had just begun to grow in Bian Lingyu’s heart was ruthlessly crushed. A cold smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

He understood well that Shi Luoyi had only come because her inner demon had taken hold. Born a favored daughter of fate, she was arrogant and proud, yet paradoxically also righteous and innocent, brave and fearless.

Expecting her to be consumed by guilt was unrealistic. Cultivators rarely showed such compassion toward mortals. This wasn’t just her mindset—it was a flaw deeply ingrained in the cultivation world.

Her presence here was likely due to a rare pang of conscience or regret. But this only served as a painful reminder to Bian Lingyu of how much she despised and regretted what had happened between them.

Yet, despite all that, he couldn’t bring himself to release her hand and tell her to leave.

He had to admit—he craved even this fleeting, false tenderness.

Ever since he had come to Mingyou Mountain three years ago, her gaze had never once lingered on him. Back then, his body had been in even worse condition than it was now—his bones nearly shattered—but he had gritted his teeth and made his way to Mingyou Mountain, finally seeing her again. Only to discover that her eyes held nothing but Wei Changyuan.

They had grown up together, their bond inseparable. He had witnessed her running into Wei Changyuan’s arms, the young man smiling as he caught her.

The girl’s skirt fluttered, her laughter sweet and carefree. Bian Lingyu clenched his fists tightly.

Disgusting. Utterly disgusting. He wanted to hurl the vilest curses imaginable to mask the jealousy he could barely contain. In the end, he had no choice but to look away and try to ignore the turmoil in his heart.

Later, as Bian Qingxuan and Shi Luoyi clashed repeatedly, he watched from afar. Sometimes Shi Luoyi would look utterly pitiful, on the verge of tears, while other times she would lash out at Bian Qingxuan with ferocity.

Bian Lingyu could only watch from a distance. He knew Shi Luoyi hated Bian Qingxuan, yet he couldn’t help but feel that Bian Qingxuan’s presence was significant—at least she left an indelible mark on Shi Luoyi’s life.

Shi Luoyi spoke again: “If you don’t say anything, I’ll take your silence as agreement.”

Agreement? And then another three years of avoiding each other? Waiting until the next time she was upset by Bian Qingxuan and came to vent her anger on him?

Bian Lingyu wanted to tear a piece of flesh from her body!

Seeing his gaze turn cold, Shi Luoyi knew trouble was brewing: “Hey, you…”

She wanted to pull her hand back or grab his jaw, but she hesitated, afraid of accidentally hurting him. Before she could decide, he had already brought her hand to his mouth.

Shi Luoyi cursed inwardly. Even in his feverish state, Bian Lingyu hadn’t forgotten to seek revenge on her! So this was why he had clung to her hand so tightly—he intended to bite a chunk of flesh off her!

She pursed her lips tightly and turned her head away, bracing herself for the pain. Fine, if he wanted to bite her, so be it—it wouldn’t matter.

But after waiting for what felt like an eternity, she didn’t feel any pain. Instead, she felt a scorching yet soft sensation against the back of her hand—it was Bian Lingyu’s lips.

Shi Luoyi froze momentarily, only to see that Bian Lingyu had already released her. His long, icy eyes were closed, and he had fallen into a deep sleep.

She quickly withdrew her hand, thinking to herself how close she had come to biting him back! Luckily, he had fallen unconscious just in time.

Not wanting to delay any further, fearing he might actually die from the fever, Shi Luoyi decided to go find a doctor. However, as soon as she opened the door, she bumped into Bian Qingxuan, who was approaching.

Bian Qingxuan’s gaze turned frosty as she glanced at the open door and then at Shi Luoyi emerging from the room.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a sweet smile: “Senior Sister Luoyi, what were you doing with my brother?”

Shi Luoyi found her acting skills laughably poor. Why did so many people fall for it? But she had long abandoned any intention of using Bian Lingyu to provoke Bian Qingxuan, so she masked her emotions and replied expressionlessly, “Nothing. He’s sick—you should go check on him.”

Bian Qingxuan said, “Don’t worry. I know my brother’s condition well. He’s always been like this since he was little—it’ll pass by morning. Senior Sister Luoyi doesn’t need to trouble herself.”

Shi Luoyi nodded and returned to her own room.

She wasn’t worried that Bian Qingxuan would harm Bian Lingyu. If she said everything was fine, then it probably was. Besides, Bian Lingyu was conscious enough—he likely wouldn’t want her meddling in his affairs anyway.

Bian Qingxuan entered the room, her gaze immediately falling on the untouched bowl of noodles on the table.

Her brows furrowed, unease and displeasure rising in her chest. She tiptoed quietly to the bedside.

The young man on the bed lay with his eyes closed, his features refined and handsome enough to take one’s breath away.

Bian Qingxuan raised her slender hand, intending to touch his face. But just as her fingers were about to make contact, a sharp pain shot through her hand.

“Ahh!” Bian Qingxuan gasped in shock.

The pale, slender hand of the youth had sprouted icy, silvery bone spikes, piercing straight through her palm! Blood flowed steadily from the wound.

Bian Qingxuan clutched her injured hand, glaring at him with hatred: “So, you’re not pretending to sleep anymore?”

The bone spikes slowly retracted back into Bian Lingyu’s body. His voice was cold as he said, “Don’t invite trouble upon yourself.”