After arriving at the Medicine Hall, Jiang Qingyi sought out the hall's female deacon, a woman named Chen Yun.
Jiang Qingyi did not actually like Chen Yun.
Once, on a mission away from the sect, her master had saved Chen Yun's life.
After that, Chen Yun began turning up at Lingqian Peak from time to time.
Any blind man could see that Chen Yun liked her master!
What left Jiang Qingyi angry and yet helpless was this:
her master was a good-hearted old softy, gentle with everyone.
And every time her master felt unwell and went to the Medicine Hall, she always asked for Chen Yun.
Chen Yun was a decent enough person, but Jiang Qingyi simply did not like her.
And the closer Chen Yun got to her master, the less Jiang Qingyi liked it!
If not for wanting to clear up the doubt in her heart, Jiang Qingyi would never have come here.
"Phew..."
Jiang Qingyi drew a deep breath and stepped into the room in the Medicine Hall where Chen Yun worked.
She opened the door to find Chen Yun taking a cultivator's pulse.
Chen Yun looked up, and when she saw Jiang Qingyi, she froze for a moment too.
As a woman, how could Chen Yun fail to sense Qingyi's hostility toward her?
Chen Yun even knew perfectly well what that hostility was about.
"Fellow Daoist, you were struck by the Xuanming Palm. You expelled the cold qi in time, but the Tianxue Meridian and the Xinshan Meridian are still somewhat damaged. Fortunately, it's nothing serious.
I've written out a few prescriptions for you, Fellow Daoist; just take them to the main hall to have them filled.
For the time being, don't take on any missions, Fellow Daoist. You must rest quietly and recover."
"Very well. Thank you, Doctor Chen." The man stood up, bowed to her with hands clasped, and walked out with his prescriptions.
Jiang Qingyi shut the door, her brows knitted, and walked over with a hostile look, seating herself in front of Chen Yun.
"What's the matter, Sister Jiang? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?" Chen Yun asked with a smile.
"My body is fine," Jiang Qingyi said coldly. "I came here to ask you about my master's illness!"
Chen Yun's brows drew together. "Has Xiao Mo's injury gotten worse again?"
"Yes." Jiang Qingyi nodded. "My master's health is getting worse and worse. His face is as pale as paper, and I can even feel his life fire growing weaker and weaker."
"Wait a moment."
Chen Yun hurried to her feet, went to the medicine cabinet, took out a pill bottle, and handed it to Jiang Qingyi.
"What is this?" Jiang Qingyi asked, taking the bottle.
"This bottle holds a pill called the Heavenly Spirit Pill. I refined it myself; it may ease your master's injuries a little." A flicker of forlornness crossed Chen Yun's eyes. "Tomorrow morning I'll go to Lingqian Peak and take another look at your master."
"What on earth is wrong with my master's body? Is he really in this state only because someone wounded him and damaged his foundation?
But your medical skill clearly isn't the best—if it really were a damaged foundation, my master would surely have gone to the hall master of the Medicine Hall!
So why does my master always come to you for treatment?
Are the two of you hiding something from me?"
Jiang Qingyi clutched the pill bottle tightly, her eyes fixed hard on Chen Yun.
"It's true that your master's condition isn't only down to her injuries, but I won't tell you the reason," Chen Yun said calmly.
"Tell me!" There was killing intent in Jiang Qingyi's voice.
Chen Yun shook her head. "I'd like to tell you, too, because I think what your master is doing is deeply irresponsible toward himself. But I promised your master I wouldn't breathe a single word of it to you."
"Zheng!"
A streak of sword light flashed past Chen Yun's eyes.
In an instant, the tip of the Xuanshuang sword was already leveled at Chen Yun's throat.
"Killing me won't change anything." Not a trace of compromise showed in Chen Yun's eyes. "I told you, I won't tell you. And if you did learn of this, I don't believe you could accept it."
Jiang Qingyi bit down hard on her thin lips and pushed the longsword forward; the sharp tip broke Chen Yun's skin, and bright red beads of blood slowly trickled down her neck.
Yet Chen Yun still said not a single word, only watching Jiang Qingyi calmly.
"Bang!"
Jiang Qingyi swept her longsword aside, and a medicine jar burst apart.
Black medicinal liquid spread slowly through the cracks in the wooden floorboards.
The two stared at each other for a long while. At last Jiang Qingyi said, word by word, "My master... how much longer can he live..."
"Thirty years..." Chen Yun gave the number. "Your master has only thirty years of lifespan left. It may not even be thirty..."
"Thirty years... thirty years... How... how is that possible..."
Jiang Qingyi staggered back two steps, her eyes wavering, the hand that held the longsword trembling slightly.
For a mortal, thirty years really wasn't short; you could even call it very, very long.
But to a cultivator, what difference was there between thirty years and three months?
There were so many, so many words she had never said to her master; so many, so many things she had never done with him.
"Impossible!"
Jiang Qingyi jerked her head up, the longsword once more pointing at the spot between Chen Yun's brows.
"Liar! You must be lying to me! My master is a great cultivator in the late Nascent Soul realm! He has at least three thousand years of lifespan! And he's only a little past thirty even now! How could he have only thirty years to live!"
Chen Yun looked straight into Jiang Qingyi's eyes and said nothing, only watching her quietly.
Jiang Qingyi bit down hard on her thin lips, her white teeth already breaking the tender flesh; blood ran from the corner of the girl's mouth.
Three breaths later, Jiang Qingyi was like a deflated ball, letting the longsword droop in her hand.
She knew Chen Yun was not lying to her.
Chen Yun liked her master; she would never joke about his life.
And as a physician cultivator, she could not possibly joke about such a thing.
"What on earth happened to my master..."
The color drained from Jiang Qingyi's eyes until something close to darkness was left, and she looked like a person who had simply broken.
But the moment the question left her mouth, she let out a few cold "heh heh heh" laughs. "How stupid of me. Here I am, still asking you... You won't say anything, will you..."
"I'm sorry." Looking at the girl before her, Chen Yun understood her completely.
Chen Yun knew what Jiang Qingyi and Xiao Mo were to each other.
Without Xiao Mo, Jiang Qingyi might still be wandering the streets, never knowing which day she would starve to death.
It was Xiao Mo who saved her, taught her to cultivate, and made her a sword cultivator whose name shook the world.
To her, Xiao Mo was the most important person in this world.
"Isn't there any way to save my master?" Jiang Qingyi lifted her head, looking at Chen Yun almost pleadingly. "Any way at all! I'll do anything!"
"There is no way left..." Chen Yun shook her head. "No matter what method there is, I've already tried it."
Chen Yun sighed. "Qingyi, you are the most important person in his life. In the days to come, keep him company as much as you can..."