Luo Jiujiang seemed to have had a very long dream.
His consciousness floated up and down in a dark sea. The water around him was salty and bitter, each drop as sharp as a knife, scratching his bones and making them ache.
On the other hand, he felt exhausted and languid, even the sharp, piercing pain unable to shake him from his sleep. From his daze, he saw a faint, blood-stained figure. Though still young, his blade aura already possessed a certain quality. With its back to him, the figure repeated the same move over and over again. Luo Jiujiang watched for a long moment, finally spotting three or four areas for improvement.
Although this knife seemed a bit hasty and casual, the style was really to my liking. Luo Jiujiang thought half asleep and half awake, this move seemed to be specially made for me.
He still remained in the black sea, his whole body swaying without strength, surrounded by icy cold, and he sank silently in the water.
So sleepy...
There was a faint sound of flies and insects in his ears, a low, unchanging rhythm, humming over and over again. Luo Jiujiang shook his head, but it didn't make the sound go away; instead, it seemed to draw closer.
“…Is that enough…?”
What?
"Is just... random snow... enough...?"
It doesn't seem to be the sound of mosquitoes, but why is it not clearer?
The sound grew closer and louder. This time, Luo Jiujiang heard it clearly; it wasn't the hum of an insect's wings, but a serious question.
"Is just 'random' snowfield enough?"
What is a "chaotic" snowfield... Before this thought even crossed his mind, a firm voice emerged from the depths of Luo Jiujiang's heart: Not enough! How can a "chaotic" snowfield be enough? He wants to pierce the sky of this world!
The familiar figure who had been repeatedly waving a knife in front of his eyes suddenly stopped. A strong sense of déjà vu and the memories before he lost consciousness came flooding back to him. Luo Jiujiang suddenly realized that the bloodstained young man in black was actually himself who was performing the Chaos Snowfield.
Luo Jiujiang woke up in shock.
When he opened his eyes, he felt as if he had died once.
Although Luo Jiujiang's meridians no longer stabbed intensely, the lingering, slightly itchy aches and pains hadn't subsided much either. He lay on the ground for a long moment before finally finding the strength to raise an arm. The next moment, he was startled by a dense patch of blood all over his arm.
After calming down, Luo Jiujiang saw clearly that someone was writing countless tiny words on his skin with blood starting from his fingertips. There was a faint light flashing on the bloodstains on his skin. He didn't know how long it had been there, but it still hadn't dried up.
"Awake?" Xie Chuncan rasped from a distance. Luo Jiujiang turned to look and saw that the man's eyes were dark, his expression was haggard, his upper body was naked, and there were three bloody wounds on his left wrist in a very neat row.
"Cough..." Luo Jiujiang cleared his throat several times to free it from the sticky mass, then said weakly, "Thank you, brother, for saving me."
Before he closed his eyes, he was already lying in a state waiting to die, but now he could see the light of day again, and there were these bloody words on his body. It was not difficult for him to figure out what Xie Chuncan had done for him.
"No thanks," Xie Chuncan said wearily. Luo Jiujiang's injuries, both external and internal, were a tangled mess. He'd initially written words on his back that were as big as an inch, but then realized that this only slowed his death, so he had no choice but to start over.
The matter of Shu Qi required extremely high attention, and Luo Jiujiang's condition was too horrifying. Xie Chuncan could be said to be racing against the clock with the underworld. In the end, he actually managed to pull Luo Jiujiang back from the underworld, even though he had half a foot in the underworld.
For this, he dipped his fingernails in blood and wrote tiny words all over Luo Jiujiang's body. In the end, his fingers were almost worn off.
Luo Jiujiang lay on the ground for a moment, feeling a bit better. He slowly leaned on the stone slab and sat up, carefully examining the words on his hands. He read with interest, "Huang Yaozi, bitter root, neutral in nature, non-toxic... What did you write, Brother Xie?"
Xie Chuncan had closed his eyes since Luo Jiujiang woke up, leaning against the wall to rest quietly. He didn't even raise his head when he heard Luo Jiujiang's question. He said in a hoarse voice, "In the Compendium of Materia Medica that I can memorize, I have basically written down everything I can write about." After a pause, he added, "Except motherwort."
Luo Jiujiang: "..." He laughed dumbly, and after a moment he replied seriously, "Thank you so much, brother. Otherwise, I would have almost lost both my life and my life."
"Motherwort is used to treat amenorrhea. The 'medicine' that saved you from two deaths was Motherwort." Xie Chuncan's head began to move slowly like a chicken pecking at rice. His voice gradually faded, the last syllable almost inaudible, and his tone was full of sleepiness. "I've written that down."
Luo Jiujiang: “…”
Foundation-building cultivators practiced fasting and rarely needed sleep. Yet Xie Chuncan drifted off to sleep while still talking, clearly exhausted and drained of energy. Luo Jiujiang's eyes softened, and he clamped his mouth shut.
He supported his body, which still felt broken and sluggish, and stood up as quietly as possible. Then he gently helped Xie Chuncan from his half-leaning against the wall and half-bent over position to the ground so that he could sleep more comfortably.
After doing all this, Luo Jiujiang returned to the ground where he had previously lain down to rest, picked up his tattered outer robe and put it on casually, and looked around the stone chamber where the two of them lived with his sharp eyes.
As he fell from the snowy plain, Luo Jiujiang's consciousness was a bit hazy, as if he were stepping lightly on cotton. The sudden feeling of emptiness under his feet was not very clear. He concentrated on recalling for a long time before he could piece together the whole thing.
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