Chapter 17: Hanging by a Thread

Lin Ziyun descended upon the palace like a bloody meteor, carrying the battered bodies of Xiao Yifeng and Su Miaoqing. She flew straight for the inner courtyard, her Divine Sense piercing through the walls to snap Su Qianyi out of his meditation.

When Su Qianyi rushed out, the sight of his wife soaked in crimson made the blood drain from his face.

He didn’t waste a second. After a cursory glance at the disciples’ condition, he pulled out his command token. Orders flew out in all directions, and the massive machinery of Wuya Hall roared to life, gear by gear.

As Su Qianyi and Lin Ziyun frantically worked to stabilize the pair, the other disciples of the hall began to flood in. They arrived in a panic, but silence fell the moment they saw Xiao Yifeng.

Faces turned ashen. Senior and Junior brothers exchanged uneasy glances, the air heavy with dread.

Su Miaoqing’s condition was manageable—a few broken bones and snake venom. To the high-level cultivators present, purging the toxin and setting the bones was a simple matter. She would be fine.

Xiao Yifeng was a different story.

There wasn’t a single inch of him left intact. As the Senior Brothers whispered among themselves, the consensus was grim: it was a miracle he was breathing at all. His body was twisted beyond human shape, a ruin of mangled flesh and pulverized bone.

His injuries had been catastrophic to begin with, but he had forced himself to fight at full power while already broken. Shattered white bone poked through his skin, and his internal organs were a mess of hemorrhage and rupture.

Xiang Tiange, who had always doted on his Junior Brother, stood trembling in the corner. He clenched his jaw until his teeth creaked, forcing himself to stay silent so he wouldn’t distract his Master and Mistress, but his eyes were rimmed with red.

The timid Ninth Senior Sister took one look and burst into tears. Even the Eighth Senior Brother, who prided himself on his iron gut and bravery, felt a phantom ache in his own body just looking at the carnage.

Su Qianyi and Lin Ziyun didn’t dare make any drastic moves. They could only pour their Spiritual Qi into him to protect his heart meridian, keeping the faint spark of life from extinguishing. Finally, Lin Ziyun barked an order.

“Tiange! Go to the Alchemy Peak. Invite Daoist Guangsheng immediately!”

Daoist Guangsheng was an eccentric, notorious for his weird temper, but his alchemy skills were second to none within the sect.

Not long after, a middle-aged man with the ethereal air of a true immortal strode into the Hall of Inquiring Hearts. Daoist Guangsheng took one look at the boy on the bed, and his professional detachment vanished. His expression turned grave.

“Junior Brother Qianyi,” Guangsheng said bluntly. “The boy is broken. Worse, he recklessly circulated his cultivation techniques while in this state. His meridians are shredded. I have less than 20% assurance of saving him.”

He paused, looking Su Qianyi in the eye. “And to even attempt it, the cost in spirit medicines and heavenly treasures will be astronomical.”

“Senior Brother, save him,” Su Qianyi said, his face dark as stagnant water. His voice allowed no argument. “Do whatever it takes.”

Daoist Guangsheng gave him a strange look, then nodded. He quickly scribbled a long list of materials on a jade slip. Su Qianyi took it, glanced at the staggering cost, and immediately handed it to Xiang Tiange without blinking. “Fetch them.”

Xiang Tiange returned at speed, dumping a small mountain of rare herbs and treasures onto the floor.

“I will need both you and your esteemed wife to lend me your Qi,” Guangsheng commanded.

Su Qianyi and Lin Ziyun nodded. They dismissed the disciples, sealing the hall. For a full day and night, the three powerful cultivators worked tirelessly.

Against all odds, the treatment went smoothly. They had dragged Xiao Yifeng back from the gates of hell.

Daoist Guangsheng clicked his tongue in amazement as he wiped sweat from his brow. “This kid… his life force is terrifyingly tenacious. He was actually actively cooperating with the treatment while comatose, using the medicinal energy to reshape his extraordinary meridians.”

However, no one knew when—or if—he would wake up.

Su Qianyi and his wife had Xiang Tiange prepare a heavy gift to see Daoist Guangsheng off. Lin Ziyun refused to leave, staying by Xiao Yifeng’s side for another full night, continuously washing his broken body with her gentle Spiritual Qi.

On the third day, Su Miaoqing woke up.

Through her sobbing, the sect finally learned the truth. Tears streamed down her face like rain on pear blossoms as she recounted the nightmare. She had passed out from the poison, but in her dazed state, she had seen it—Xiao Yifeng, disregarding his own life, throwing himself at the giant serpent again and again to keep it away from her.

Regret consumed her. Her arrogance, her conceit… it was all her fault. If she hadn’t been so headstrong, Xiao Yifeng wouldn’t be lying in that bed, half-dead.

Lin Ziyun had intended to scold her daughter, but seeing the girl’s utter devastation, the harsh words died in her throat. She simply pulled Su Miaoqing into her arms and held her.

Su Qianyi, however, channeled his grief into rage.

He ordered a scorched-earth investigation. How could a Foundation Establishment Demon Beast appear so close to the sect without anyone knowing? Where had that giant snake come from?

Disciples scoured the mountains, but the origin of the beast remained a mystery. It seemed to have popped out of the ground—likely from a deep, underground hibernation chamber that had gone unnoticed for centuries. Judging by the decomposing wolf carcasses nearby, it had been active for some time.

The only reason it hadn’t been reported was the negligence of the patrol disciples. That area had been stable for years, and they had grown complacent.

Su Qianyi’s wrath was swift. The managers and disciples responsible for that sector were dragged out. Some had their cultivation crippled; others were stripped of their status and demoted to the outer sect.

Even Xiang Tiange was caught in the blast radius. Since the area technically fell under his jurisdiction, he was charged with lax supervision and fined three years of his sect stipend.

During the search, the disciples also stumbled upon Little White. The snow lion was barely breathing, forgotten in the chaos. That it hadn’t died was a stroke of incredible luck.

Once Xiao Yifeng’s condition stabilized, he was moved back to the Huixing Small Courtyard. Expensive spiritual medicines were poured down his throat daily like water.

Su Miaoqing refused to leave his bedside. She sat there like a stone statue, stubborn and teary-eyed. Lin Ziyun tried to persuade her to rest, but after a few failed attempts, she gave up.

Days blurred into nights. Su Qianyi, Lin Ziyun, and the Senior brothers all came to visit, but the boy remained lost in the darkness.

After an unknown expanse of time, Xiao Yifeng drifted up from the deep sleep.

His first sensation was pain.

It felt as if every inch of his body had been shattered and glued back together wrong. There wasn’t a single spot that didn’t throb. He tried to shift his weight, and a bolt of agony shot through him, making him suck in a sharp, hissing breath.

At the sound, a head popped up from the side of the bed.

Su Miaoqing blinked her bleary, confused eyes. Recognition dawned, and her face lit up. “Little Feng! You’re awake!”

“Senior Sister…”

Xiao Yifeng was shocked by the sound of his own voice—it was a dry, rasping croak.

Hearing him speak, Su Miaoqing’s face crumbled. The tears she had been holding back burst forth, and she began to sob uncontrollably.

“Senior Sister, you… what are you doing?” Xiao Yifeng asked, alarmed.

“You scared me to death! I thought you’d never wake up!” she wailed.

“Aren’t I fine now? Hehe…” He tried to chuckle, but the movement tore at his internal wounds, twisting his face into a grimace of pain.

Su Miaoqing cried harder, a mess of guilt and relief. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. If I had just listened to you… Yifeng, scold me! Please, just yell at me!”

Xiao Yifeng didn’t know the details of the aftermath, but looking at the girl, he knew she had been living in her own personal hell.

“Senior Sister, I don’t blame you,” he whispered. “Don’t blame yourself…”

“Really?” She looked at him timidly, like a frightened animal.

But Xiao Yifeng’s eyes were already closed. He had lost consciousness again. Su Miaoqing nearly jumped out of her skin, terrified he had died, but when she heard his steady breathing, she finally slumped back in relief.

When Xiao Yifeng woke the second time, Su Miaoqing was gone. Only Yue’er sat by the bed, keeping vigil.

“Young Master Yifeng, you’re awake?” Yue’er’s face brightened with joy.

Xiao Yifeng winced as he tried to move. “Water…”

Yue’er moved with practiced efficiency, pouring a cup of water. Xiao Yifeng struggled to sit up, but she gently but firmly pressed him back against the pillows.

“Young Master, please stay down. I’ll feed you.”

She spooned the water into his mouth with extreme care. Xiao Yifeng felt like a parched desert soaking up rain. He drank nearly half a bowl before the burning in his throat subsided.

“Sister Yue’er,” he asked weakly. “How long was I out?”

Yue’er set the bowl down softly. “Ten full days, Young Master. Thank the Heavens you’re finally back. The Mistress and Miss Qing’er can finally stop worrying. Even the Hall Master came to see you several times.”

“Master?” Xiao Yifeng was puzzled. Su Qianyi visiting him?

“Yes. That day…”

As Yue’er recounted the events, Xiao Yifeng began to piece together what had happened while he slept, though Yue’er, being a servant, only knew bits and pieces of the full story.