Approaching Death

Xun Xue looked at the little wolf cub in her arms, who was using someone else’s flowers to offer to Buddha, and smiled.
She didn’t refuse the gesture.
Extending her slender fingers, she elegantly picked up a piece of golden osmanthus crisp cake and gently placed it between her lips.

Biting down with her pearly teeth, the crisp pastry shattered with a sound, and the soft, sweet filling mixed with the rich fragrance of osmanthus spread in her mouth.
Xun Xue raised her eyebrows slightly, revealing just the right amount of surprise.
The taste of this pastry was unexpectedly good.

“Little Wanbai,” Xun Xue asked casually, her gaze appreciative, “Where did you buy this osmanthus crisp cake? It tastes very good.
When we set off to return to the Tianyuan Sect, we might as well buy some more to satisfy our cravings on the road.”

Ling Wanbai still wore her expressionless little face, her voice calm and waveless: “Replying to Lord Immortal Venerable, I made this myself.
If the Immortal Venerable likes it, I can make some more.”

“Oh?” The surprise in Xun Xue’s eyes deepened, then turned into sincere praise, “You made it yourself? Truly excellent craftsmanship.”

Hearing this praise, Ling Wanbai still maintained her signature flat expression, as if she had just heard an ordinary remark.
However, the fluffy large tail behind her uncontrollably wagged quickly a few times.

Although her face was impassive, she was very pleased in her heart.

As the sweet fragrance of the last bite of osmanthus crisp cake dissolved in her mouth, Lu Qiancha narrowed her eyes in satisfaction.
Then, a strong wave of drowsiness surged up.
Her little mouth opened slightly, and she let out a big yawn, “Haa…”

Thick sleepiness hit her like a tide.
She couldn’t be bothered to move, so she found the most comfortable position directly in Xun Xue’s warm and soft arms.
Burying her little head in the crook of her arm, her eyelids closed heavily.
Almost instantly, the sound of fine, even breathing rang out; clearly, she had fallen into a dream.

“Little sleepyhead.”
Looking at the sleeping little wolf cub in her arms, a gentle curve formed at the corners of Xun Xue’s lips as she chided softly.

She gently picked up a clean handkerchief and carefully wiped away a few crumbs of pastry from the corner of Lu Qiancha’s mouth.

Then, holding this little ball, Xun Xue rose gently and walked to the bedside.

Xun Xue carefully placed Lu Qiancha on the soft bed and tucked the corners of the quilt in for her.
Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, gently sprinkling on Lu Qiancha’s peaceful sleeping face.

Then, Xun Xue leaned down, lay beside Lu Qiancha, and planted a very light kiss on her smooth forehead: “Sweet dreams.”

Early the next morning, the sky began to brighten.

In stark contrast to Lu Qiancha, who was still sleeping soundly in Xun Xue’s arms, Ling Muxue woke up with a start on her cold bed.
Her face was as pale as paper, her eyelids swollen like peaches, and undried tear stains snaked cold paths down her cheeks.
The cool morning breeze brushed through her messy hair, bringing a trace of chill.

Opening her heavy eyes, the heart-piercing memories of yesterday instantly rolled back like a surging tide, dragging her back into the abyss of despair.

Sun Niang’s painful face, her own self-blame for incompetence, and the regret of personally destroying hope were like countless cold needles repeatedly piercing her heart.

“Sun Niang! How is Sun Niang?!”

Panic instantly gripped her heart like a vine.
Ling Muxue sat up abruptly from the bed.
The sunlight coming through the window lattice should have brought warmth, but at this moment, it only made her feel a bone-chilling cold.

‘It’s already the second day…’

‘That means, without the Nirvana Syrup, Sun Niang must have already…’

“Princess,” came the cautious voice of a maid from outside the door, “His Majesty wants you to go to Jinhua Palace immediately.
Sun Niang is also there.”

‘Father Emperor? Sun Niang?’

These brief words were like stones thrown into stagnant water, instantly stirring up violent waves in Ling Muxue’s dead silent heart.

She almost crashed through the door, running recklessly towards Jinhua Palace without regard for decorum.

The guards behind her followed silently and did not stop her.

A moment later, inside Jinhua Palace.

Outside the hall, fine snow fluttered incessantly, draping a layer of lonely white mourning clothes over this majestic palace standing on the side wing of the royal palace.

Stepping into the hall, Ling Muxue immediately saw Ling Ze standing by the window, dressed in a magnificent black and gold imperial robe.

His tall figure, set against the snow light, exuded a heavy pressure.

“Father Emperor!” Ling Muxue’s voice trembled.

“Go say a few words to Sun Niang.”

Ling Ze’s voice was low, without any unnecessary pleasantries, his gaze pointing towards the side hall.

Hearing this reminder, Ling Muxue’s heart skipped a beat.
She almost stumbled, rushing three steps at a time into the bedroom filled with a strong smell of medicine.

Sun Niang lay on a wide bed, the heavy cotton quilt unable to hide the withered state of her body.

That face, once full of loving smiles, was now as grey and defeated as withered wood, without a trace of blood.
Only the extremely faint rise and fall of her chest signaled the last trace of remaining life.

Several physicians and servants stood silently by the side, their faces solemn, the atmosphere suffocatingly oppressive.

“Sun Niang!”

Seeing that familiar figure still before her eyes, a faint sense of relief, like surviving a disaster, surged in Ling Muxue’s heart.

‘Good, good, Sun Niang is still here.
At least she didn’t pass away silently while I was asleep last night.’

However, this relief was as fragile as ice and snow, instantly shattered by the huge grief surging in.

‘Not dead doesn’t mean she can live.’

She could still only watch helplessly as this person, who was like her closest kin, walked step by step towards the end of her life, powerless to do anything.

“Little Xue…”

On the bed, Sun Niang’s voice, weak as a thread, sounded faintly, as if coming from far away.
Hearing Ling Muxue’s call, a faint light seemed to light up in her cloudy eyes, struggling to gather the last bit of spirit.

“Sun Niang!” Ling Muxue threw herself onto the bed, tightly grasping that withered but still warm hand, tears bursting like a dam, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s me who is useless… I can’t save you… I’m sorry…”

She choked with sobs, her voice broken.

The expression on the old woman’s face was still heartbreakingly kind.

Using all her strength, she raised her rough hand, trembling, extremely slowly and gently, to wipe away the tears on Ling Muxue’s face: “Silly child… why are you crying.
I’m just an old woman, not worth you being like this.
Being able to watch you grow up well, Sun Niang’s life has been worth it…”

She gasped for a moment, her voice even weaker, but filled with deep concern: “Sun Niang made a lot of sweet wine for you, all sealed up, it can be stored for a long time.
If you encounter happy things in the future, drink a little.
Let Sun Niang be happy with you down below…”

“No! No! I don’t want this! I won’t let you go!”

Ling Muxue shook her head desperately, huge grief blocking her throat, making her unable to speak complete sentences anymore.

Looking at Sun Niang forcing herself to hold on, the regret of giving away the life-saving medicine grew wildly like a poisonous vine, gnawing at her soul.