The Long Night, Part 1

The Qi Clan’s team sustained heavy injuries, but no one died.

Of the fifteen, Qi Libei was hurt worst, half his body torn by the Wolf King.

An ordinary person would’ve died, but his spirit remained strong.

Likely due to cultivating from birth, his physical resilience far exceeded a mortal’s.

Still, with such wounds, continuing the journey would be tough.

But the Qi Clan had their ways.

Daozi said, “Fetch the Ice Soul Divine Grass.”

Qi Liwei carefully presented a silver-white herb with five leaves, topped with a frost-like flower, glowing faintly in the night.

It carried the aura of a legendary immortal elixir.

Daozi delicately plucked a silver leaf, having Qi Libei swallow it.

Almost instantly, Su Qing saw moonlight drawn to him.

In the hazy glow, his shattered bones creaked, growing.

Red flesh visibly covered the bones, writhing and healing.

It looked agonizing—Qi Libei’s forehead veins pulsed, he bit his hand to stifle groans, sweating profusely.

In a blink, his wounds healed completely, his spirit even stronger than before.

Qi Libei clenched his fist, feeling the surging strength. “Once we reach a place with spiritual energy, I can break through to Qi Refining Ninth Layer.”

Qi Liwei marveled, “Truly the Nether Wolf’s companion herb, as ancient texts say—reviving the dead, mending bones.”

The Nether Wolf’s companion herb?

So it was stolen.

Su Qing thought: No wonder the wolves fought so desperately.

Qi Liwei worried about the pack’s return. “The Ice Soul Divine Grass is vital for the young Wolf King’s advancement. For their race’s survival, they’ll come for it, even after tonight’s losses. Without spiritual energy, we’re at a disadvantage. What do we do?”

Qi Libei scoffed, “Don’t boost their morale and dampen ours.”

Qi Liwei, annoyed, moved to pinch him. “I’m just stating facts!”

Qi Lifeng stopped her. “Don’t bicker with A-Bei; his mouth’s always faster than his brain.” He turned to Daozi, “What’s your call?”

Daozi’s ever-calm gaze steadied them. “No rush. They won’t return tonight. Rest here for now.”

Su Qing thought the wolf scare would keep her awake, but she overestimated herself.

Exhausted and sleepy, she passed out instantly.

Morning light didn’t wake her—she was too tired, head spinning, eyelids heavy.

But a sword scabbard poked her awake.

Opening her eyes, she saw Qi Libei’s infuriating face.

All Qi Clan members looked like celestial beings, not hideous, but after yesterday, Su Qing felt both loathing and fear.

Qi Libei’s words grated as always—she wished he’d suffered more yesterday.

“Get up,” he jabbed her back impatiently. “Time to cook. So lazy—are you a pig?”

She opened her eyes calmly, fear of being cut outweighing her inner rage.

If she could, she’d rather cook him than the meal.

“My whole body hurts.”

Qi Libei wasn’t buying it. “No nonsense.”

Su Qing cursed him inwardly but had no choice.

She roused Xiu Fu, leaving Zhu Xing’er to sleep—she was young and couldn’t help much.

Su Qing lit the fire, Xiu Fu prepped vegetables and soup.

Working together sped things up.

Qi Libei, overseeing, was passably satisfied.

As usual, they ate first.

After last night’s scare, Su Qing was unceremonious—piling her plate high.

No full stomach, no strength to plan an escape.

Before Qi Libei, she ate two bowls, urging Xiu Fu, “Eat more. Need strength to work.”

Xiu Fu, choking, said, “I can’t eat much in the morning.”

Especially with a sword-wielding overseer.

Su Qing turned, back to Qi Libei, shoveling food. Annoying.

Qi Libei’s eyelids twitched, gripping his sword tighter.

Mortals were so shortsighted, unaware of the fortune of a Qi Clan connection.

This village girl, Su Qing, had some guts, unafraid of them.

But no reverence either—ignorant and infuriating.

With wolves likely returning at night, daytime tasks piled up.

They had to travel, gather herbs, collect firewood, cook, and clean.

These clan heirs were like immortal capitalists, working one person like three.

The busyness didn’t ease Su Qing’s fear for her life, but she felt tonight’s survival was likely secure.

At afternoon cooking, she channeled her frustration into her craft.

Today’s main ingredients were rabbit and fish.

The rabbits, unlucky enough to cross the Qi Clan, lost their heads—whole families.

Su Qing caught the fish herself.

Fish soup was gamey, needing heavy seasoning, so she experimented.

At a shallow bank, she sharpened a branch, removed shoes and socks, and speared fish.

Cool water flowed between her toes, refreshing.

Qi Libei’s gaze lingered on her bare feet, then shifted away, muttering, “Immortal and mortal differ. Don’t invite trouble.”

Su Qing didn’t catch his meaning at first.

When it sank in, goosebumps prickled, her scalp tingling.

She wanted to vomit.

“I was here first—you weren’t!”

Qi Libei didn’t believe her. “You knew I’d be watching.”

Su Qing suppressed disgust. “Think what you want.”

Looking at her feet, she couldn’t believe cultivators were so feudal—worse than Little Shu Village, where she fished without issue.

Ingredients ready, she and Xiu Fu skinned rabbits, diced the meat, blanched and cooked it, shredding it and marinating with chopped wild fruits and greens.

Fish were descaled, filleted, and grilled until crisp and brown, then boiled into a milky soup.

At the end, Su Qing added tangy wild fruit juice, making the soup fresh and flavorful.

As usual, they ate first, then washed dishes.

The meal suited the Qi Clan’s tastes—plates were cleaned.

Su Qing saw Daozi’s bowl—empty too.

Cleaning scraps wasn’t pleasant.

Zhu Xing’er, disappointed, asked, “Why do immortals eat? Don’t they live on dew and petals?”

Su Qing smirked coldly. “Not only do they eat—they use the bathroom too.”

Zhu Xing’er, unable to imagine it, looked pained.

That night, the wolves didn’t come.

Nor the next.

Su Qing wondered: Was the Wolf King too wounded to return?

She was both worried and relieved—worried the Qi Clan was too comfortable, relieved her life seemed safe.

But the good days didn’t last.

On the third day, Daozi spoke, his icy gaze sparking faint fear in Su Qing.

Fear of the unknown.

He said lightly, coldly, “The Ice Soul Divine Grass is vital to the wolves’ survival. Three days of quiet means something’s wrong. We must strike first.”

Strike first? Hunt the wolves down and fight?

Daozi had a plan: “Lure them, then kill.”

His dark eyes fixed on Su Qing’s group.

She froze.

Zhu Xing’er, recalling his divine sword strike that night, his snow-white figure godlike, felt her heart stir.

His voice, like winter plums in snow, felt closer than ever.

Blushing under the dim sky, she whispered, “What do we need to do?”

Night fell.

The sky was pitch-black, clouds hiding the moon, no stars in sight.

Only the dull, ceaseless wind roared like waves.

Nearby, a bright fire blazed, its tongues licking the air, consuming something.

In its yellow glow, several white figures lay slumped.

A faint blood scent masked other smells.

In the shadows, Qi Liwei looked away, uneasy. “Is this really okay?”

Qi Libei, arms crossed with his sword, said, “Just some blood—they won’t die.”

Qi Lifeng’s lips curved. “Even dying for the Qi Clan—what’s wrong with that? Mortals are like weeds: cut one down, another grows.”

“Not these,” Qi Libei said quietly. “I promised to protect their lives.”

Silence fell as they scanned the distance for stirring air.

This ambush would draw the Nether Wolves tonight.

Those cursed beasts—he’d kill them all this time.

The life-reviving divine grass lay in Su Qing’s arms.

Even its miraculous powers couldn’t save her now.

Her wrists and ankles were cut, blood seeping out.

The Qi Clan used their blood as bait, sprinkled around to confuse scents.

The grass was tucked in her chest, her clothes smeared with its sap.

Su Qing knew she couldn’t escape—she was the perfect lure for the Wolf King.

Blood soaked her skin, dripping to the ground.

Blood loss chilled her limbs, her mind foggy, vision fading in the dark.

But she could feel it.

The sudden wind, countless glowing eyes, the foul heat of beast breath.

And—

Xiu Fu’s warm blood.

Xiu Fu’s blood, Zhu Xing’er’s blood, their blood pooling together on the ground.

Before pain registered, regret surged.

Next time, I won’t hesitate.