Chapter 724 (1): Hearts Bound, Interwoven Forever

Yue Hongling thought her lack of leadership experience would make handling the current mess a daunting challenge.

To her surprise, she discovered that in the aftermath of Zhao Changhe’s awe-inspiring display of godlike power, the Spirit Tribe had been utterly cowed into obedience. Her words had thus become law.

“Detain the rebels and hold them for trial at a later date,” she commanded.

The once-unruly maids, now seemingly reinvigorated by having a clear authority figure, immediately answered in unison, “Yes!”

Yue Hongling glanced at them, her thoughts laced with irony.

Sure, you’re all respectful now, but if this were a different day, wouldn’t you be tearing into me on behalf of your saintess?

She refrained from voicing the thought, instead continuing, “Send teams to the burial ground. Tend to the injured and clean up the site. Give the dead a proper burial.”

“Yes.”

“Who among you regularly handles external affairs? Send someone competent to root out the spies in Taoyuan Town.”

“I’ll go.”

“Dispatch a team to take control of Dali. Without Dao Qingfeng, the White Tribe has no leader. One decisive strike should settle it. If not, deploy the Blood Ao.”

“I’ll handle that.”

Yue Hongling racked her brain for additional orders, knowing there was more to address but unable to articulate it all at the moment. Finally, she said with a hint of frustration, “For everything else, focus on stabilization. Secure the sacred temple and royal palace. Summon the best doctors. There are many who need medical attention.”

After a pause, she added indignantly, “Including myself!”

Her body felt like it was falling apart, every bone aching as if about to shatter. She had been beaten into a pulp and now had to run the Spirit Tribe in her partner’s stead while carrying him back to safety. Meanwhile, Sisi, completely unscathed, had passed out without a care, leaving Yue Hongling to arrange for extra people to tend to her as well.

What a useless fox. That stupid gu poison caused so much unnecessary trouble.

At least the orders were issued, and the Spirit Tribe began functioning in an orderly manner, avoiding total chaos. Carrying Zhao Changhe, Yue Hongling made her way to the palace, found an empty room, and settled him onto a bed. The moment she let go, dizziness overwhelmed her, and she nearly collapsed on top of him.

Clenching her teeth, she forced herself upright, crossed her legs to meditate, and finally began her recovery.

Zhao Changhe trusted her enough to let himself pass out without reservation. No matter what, she had to hold firm and keep him safe.

The day faded into night, and the moon rose high into the sky.

In her meditative state, Yue Hongling felt a strange transformation in her essence. Her spirit and energy seemed to undergo a profound shift.

She realized how many lives she had saved this time. In her two journeys to Miaojiang with Zhao Changhe, she had rescued more people than she had in all her years wandering the

jianghu

alone. She had already gained insight on her first trip, but this time, the clarity was undeniable. It was as if a door in her spirit had burst open, and the vast energy of heaven and earth flooded into her, merging her being with the universe.

If the path of a wandering swordsman was a form of Dao, could its ultimate fulfillment become a form of mastery over the world?

What kind of mastery this was, she could not yet define. But she did know that the moment she unleashed her sword, without holding it in her hand, to strike down the Black Hmong King, she had touched on something akin to sword control.

The ancient art of sword control was more than just controlling a weapon with techniques or letting the sword spirit act autonomously. It was a perfect unity of mind and sword, where one’s gaze dictated the sword’s path.

Though she felt close to a breakthrough, there was still a barrier left to cross. When she did, she would step into her own Profound Control Realm—profound control of the sword.

Even Snow-Treading Crow had sensed the extraordinary compatibility between Yue Hongling and Zhao Changhe. It was not just physical or emotional, but also when it came to their iron will and resilience. Both were like forged steel, cut from the same mold.

And even while gravely injured and meditating, Yue Hongling’s heightened awareness kept her ever-vigilant, ready for whatever might come.

Clang!

Yue Hongling’s sword shot out of its scabbard, pointing directly toward the window.

Sisi was in the middle of sneaking in through the window when the sword pointed at her throat, startling her so much she twisted in midair, raising her hands in surrender. “It’s me!”

Yue Hongling lowered her sword with an annoyed sigh. “Do you have a death wish? At a time like this, I’m on edge. The slightest disturbance...”

Sisi cut her off, her tone laced with mischief. “I figured you’d be tense, but I assumed it was the kind of tension that comes from... enjoying yourself.”

Yue Hongling was not one to shy away from banter, but this left her speechless. “Do you really think he’s made of iron?”

Sisi gave her a long look, then sighed dramatically. “I’m starting to think you’re the one made of iron. Look at yourself—your injuries are practically solidifying. You should focus on healing. I’ll stay here and take care of things.”

Yue Hongling’s expression didn’t shift. “I might have considered it, but your earlier comment makes me think you’re plotting something. A sneaky bite, perhaps?”

Sisi quipped back, “Even if I wanted to take a bite, what’s there to eat? Do

you

think he’s made of iron?”

Yue Hongling: “...”

Sisi sighed again. “I brought a doctor to treat him, and I’ve also arranged for the best female witch doctor to look after you. As long as you’re not as stubborn as my master, these external wounds aren’t difficult to deal with.”

Yue Hongling raised an eyebrow. “Judging by your energy, you recovered pretty fast.”

“Of course. I just fainted from the pain, but I wasn’t actually injured, so of course I’d recover quickly.”

Yue Hongling gave her a sidelong glance. “And how’s that pain transfer experiment working out? Is it still worth it? Or was it just a way to feel involved? Honestly, it sounds like you’ve lost your mind.”

Sisi shook her head firmly. “Transferring the pain isn’t just about the sensation; it also helps distribute the burden. I only took on about ten percent of his pain, and while he probably didn’t notice the difference, that ten percent might have been just enough to keep him holding on a little longer.”

Yue Hongling smirked skeptically. “So you took on ten percent of the pain. How much did you actually feel?”

Sisi scratched her head awkwardly. “About half. And I could barely handle even that. I honestly don’t know how he bears it all...”

Half of the pain for a ten percent reduction in his burden—a deal with nothing but losses. And it did not even lessen his injuries, only the sensation.

Yue Hongling wanted to call her an idiot but could not bring herself to say it. Looking at Sisi’s enchanting face, an unexpected line of poetry surfaced in her mind:

“The delicate dice are dyed with red beans, love and longing etched to the bone, yet does he know?

[ref]This is from

New Lyrics to the Tune of Willow Branches, Two Poems (

新添声杨柳枝词二首) by Wen Tingyun (温庭筠).

”

Who would have thought that the Spirit Tribe’s seemingly flighty saintess could harbor such deep, unwavering devotion? Perhaps it was just in their nature—they were reluctant to love, but when they did, it was with a fierce, unshakable resolve.

A soft knock came from the door. The Spirit Tribe’s old witch doctor had arrived. Yue Hongling glanced at Sisi, then leaned in and whispered, “By the way, he can hear everything we just said.”

Sisi’s eyes widened in horror, her face instantly flushing bright red. “You—you—you...”

“Ha!” Yue Hongling pinched Sisi’s cheek with a playful grin. “You’re always setting me up with your tricks. Can’t I get back at you for once? Alright, I’m off to get treated. He’s your responsibility now. Don’t you dare eat his noodle.”

Sisi stomped her foot in frustration, her face still burning. “Who’s thinking about eating noodles?!”

Yue Hongling had already slipped out the door and disappeared in a flash.

Sisi stood there, glaring at the old witch doctor, who was watching with a faint smile. Embarrassed and annoyed, she snapped, “What are you grinning at? Start treating him already!”

The old witch doctor wiped the smile off his face, then knelt solemnly beside Zhao Changhe’s bed, bowing three times before rising slowly. “Saintess, do not worry. Even if it takes the Life-Exchange Gu, I will not let the sacred envoy come to harm.”

Sisi sighed. “Oh, stop it. Even if you gave up your life, it might only keep him breathing for another moment. He’s got more life in him than you can imagine. Just focus on treating him properly and save the ominous words.”

The old witch doctor began examining Zhao Changhe’s condition, marveling continuously in the process. “This body... the offensive might, the regenerative power, the sheer strength—it’s remarkable. If a woman were to be... uh... Never mind.”

Sisi: “...”

Yes, yes, I know he’s built like a bull. You don’t need to tell me!

Setting aside certain thoughts, Sisi admitted that fighting Zhao Changhe had to be an overwhelming experience for his opponents. His sheer offensive force was staggering. Still, she could not help but wish he had a defensive style to balance his capabilities. If he could mitigate damage, he would not always end up in such terrible shape after every battle. But offense and defense often required trade-offs, and achieving both was a rarity. Even with the extraordinary opportunities Zhao Changhe had encountered over the years, this gap persisted. Not even Black Tortoise, one of the foremost masters of defense, had been able to help him fully bridge it.

As the old witch doctor continued his examination, his expression gradually relaxed, his earlier concern giving way to ease.

Zhao Changhe’s injuries were extensive

and

varied. There was damage from the backlash of vicious blood qi, spiritual damage from the confrontation with Lie, erosion from Underworld Guide’s dark energies, lightning burns from wielding the divine axe, and severe exhaustion from overexertion during the final attack. None of these injuries were critical individually, but collectively, they painted a grim picture. His entire body had been battered into ruin.

To an experienced healer, however, the solution was straightforward: address each issue with the appropriate methods, one at a time, methodically.

The methods, though, were not for the faint-hearted. If Zhao Changhe were awake, he might have reacted as Ye Wuzong had—with outright refusal.

For instance, to replenish his depleted vitality, the old witch doctor placed a toad and a venomous snake on his body to siphon blood from them into him. Who knew if this sort of blood would be compatible? If anything, it looked like these kinds of “treatments” were bound to kill him rather than heal him.

And yet, under the witch doctor’s skilled hands, not only did it work, but his vitality even seemed to be slightly stronger than before. The so-called noodle had quietly turned into a fried dough stick.

Sisi could barely watch at this point.