"I was forward just now. I hope Senior Brother will forgive me."
Seated at the great gourd's front, Li Changshou wore a composed face, looking at Xuanya, who stood before him with hands cupped and head bowed. He dearly wished to complain, but could only manage a few words of "it's nothing."
He sensed the gazes on him no longer held disgust and displeasure; instead, they brimmed with sympathy and pity.
"Changshou," Immortal Jiu Jiu coughed, and said gravely, "this should be a heart demon, perhaps left over from years of closed-door cultivation in the mountains with your master."
"Senior Brother Changshou," Yuan Qing drifted over from the side, holding a bottle of pills, "these are heart-calming, spirit-focusing pills. Perhaps they may help with your condition."
"Many thanks. I accept your kindness."
Li Changshou gave a slightly awkward smile, and Yuan Qing immediately caught the drift, deftly steering the conversation elsewhere.
Seizing the chance, Li Changshou observed the others. Yuwen Ling had paid this farce no heed, sitting calmly in meditation. Liu Yan'er's gaze carried a bit more sympathy, while Wang Qi regarded him with a look full of feeling—as if to say: this senior (junior) brother has ordinary aptitude and a heart demon besides; a cultivation companion would soon be a luxury. Taking a Dao companion for joint cultivation was, in fact, fairly common in the sect.
After a few pleasantries Yuan Qing withdrew to the rear, and Wang Qi came over to exchange a few words. Li Changshou answered the whole way with only a smile. Apart from Yuan Qing, these fellow disciples were "advanced in years" yet surprisingly simple-minded—being the "top students," they spent their time cultivating and had little commerce with others.
This small storm soon blew over. The gourd fell quiet again; each settled back into cultivation, and Li Changshou took up his slips and read with relish.
Immortal Jiu Jiu sat cross-legged at the front, lost in thought—how to help Li Changshou cast off his heart demon. 'Could it be... feminine charms? Fighting poison with poison?' He lowered his gaze to his swelling chest and let out a little heh-heh.
Li Changshou did not much mind his new persona; a stopgap to dodge a probe of his cultivation, but he would keep this detail in mind for the rest of the road.
"Senior Brother Changshou," a call came suddenly from behind. Li Changshou turned and caught sight of Xuanya's face, full of apology.
Though he dearly wanted to say—『Keep the poise and pride proper to an ice-maiden beauty』—he could only show a faint smile, wave to tell her she needn't say more, and turn back to his reading.
Xuanya pressed her lips together, the apology in her eyes never fading. And his spiritual sense keenly caught Yuan Qing, behind with eyes closed, knitting his brows just slightly...
...
Two days later. E Sheng Shen Zhou, that land of sparse folk and teeming sects, was gradually left behind as this great gourd flew through clouds and fog, day and night alike, until they reached the continent's northwestern border.
Li Changshou had not cultivated at all, keeping his attention on the few inches about his person, often catching figures on the far skyline. Fortunately, they met no obstruction.
Jiu Jiu stretched, and the great gourd began to slow as it descended toward the towering ranges. The wine immortal yawned and called back: "Stay sharp, everyone. We're about to enter the bounds of the continent's border. Listen well! The Northern Jambu Continent is no friendly ground—you've come to train, not risk your lives over treasures and spirit herbs. Next I'll take you to one of its entrances. Remember this place well, so you won't go charging blindly about later."
The five disciples rose and answered: "We heed Uncle-Master's counsel." "Mm." Jiu Jiu nodded. Liu Yan'er asked in a small voice: "Uncle-Master... isn't the Northern Jambu Continent one of the four great continents? Why speak of an entrance? Does its miasma form a grand array?"
Jiu Jiu's lip curled. "Who knows why? Explain it for her."
Yuan Qing laughed: "The miasma is no great matter for a Return-to-Void cultivator with an inner cycle. The real trouble is the poisonous insects and herbs it breeds, and the fierce venomous beasts everywhere."
"Answering beside the point!" Jiu Jiu rolled his eyes. "She asked why there's an entrance!" Yuan Qing smiled awkwardly and could only cup his hands.
Yuwen Ling said in a deep voice: "Because of the demons."
"Right, because of the demons. The strapping general has learning too." Jiu Jiu guided the gourd toward a valley and said gravely: "The fortune of the human race gathers on the Southern Jambu Continent. The Northern Jambu Continent is where the sorcerer clans were exiled; for in ancient times, to hold fast the falling sky, the sages hewed the four legs of a primordial black turtle into the pillars of heaven. The turtle, nursing its grievance, died of pent-up sorrow, and its vast body and boundless magic turned into this miasma that never disperses year on year. Look to the northwest—that is no rain cloud."
They all gazed northwestward and saw, on the far skyline, surging grey-black clouds—boundless, vast beyond measure.
Jiu Jiu went on: "The miasma breeds poisonous insects and herbs, keeping ordinary creatures fearful, and in turn it has become a ground where rare flowers and strange fruits flourish. Fierce and venomous beasts dwell within, and even a Heavenly Immortal would think twice before going deep. After the Witch-Demon War, the remnant sorcerer clans were exiled to the ice-and-snow far north, living barely—said already to teeter on extinction. And the demons who bore them ill will, along with those driven off by human cultivators, gathered toward the continent's borderlands. Over time, that strip became the demons' most vital refuge."
Jiu Jiu scanned the disciples' faces and found that, apart from Li Changshou, all had grown a little tense. Press on. He chuckled, his voice deep: "Look at these mountains upon mountains. Who knows how many mighty old demons lurk among them, some of terrifying strength, all fond of feasting on human cultivators~"
The others grew warier still; Li Changshou only nodded calmly. Jiu Jiu, finding it dull, pointed beneath the gourd and continued flatly: "The town below is one of the entrances into the Northern Jambu Continent, hacked out by our race's strong. These past few thousand years we've been at peace with the demons, but who knows when it will flare again. When we enter, I'll take you to buy miasma-ward charms and antidote pills. The sect has its own, but some fool set the rule that you must sample a cultivator's life and learn to barter. Remember, don't charge about the sky here—more than one expert holds sway. Keep a reverent heart toward the strong. We'll set down on that hillside to the southeast and walk from there."
The five disciples cupped their hands and tucked his warnings into their hearts.
The town sat within a valley; the cliffs had been hewn with cave dwellings, plank roads, and wooden towers. The valley was a chaotic sprawl—stately gleaming halls and soaring pagodas among far more wooden and earthen towers, without plan, threaded only by narrow lanes. Of course, most cultivators simply flew instead of walking.
It was plain many cultivators made for the Northern Jambu Continent. The place bustled, hawkers atop rooftops, countless herbs and materials on offer—most bound up with the word "poison."
Jiu Jiu knew the place by heart. Summoning a white cloud, he took the party half around the town, comparing prices, then had them produce spirit stones for some good-value pills and talismans.
Hm? Why isn't this one stirring?
Jiu Jiu glanced back at the ever-still Li Changshou, sighed, and casually flung a purse that thudded into Li Changshou's arms. It was the simplest storage treasure, holding a fixed share of spirit stones. Jiu Jiu groused: "I knew your master couldn't be giving you much—and I can't fathom why he insists on keeping that little peak. Antidote pills and miasma-ward charms are musts. Go buy them, and don't dawdle like a hesitant maiden, you great lout!"
"Er." Li Changshou started, looked up at this uncle-master who took no pride in dress, and showed a rare gentle smile—a smile he revealed before no one but his master and junior sister. He was about to say he had prepared everything in advance, but before the words left his mouth, a slim hand reached over holding a stack of yellow paper charms and two fat-bellied porcelain bottles.
That girl with the great sword, in the fiery red dress. Xuanya looked away, saying in as unconcerned a tone as she could: "Consider it a token of apology. Before, I..." She flicked a finger and sent the pills and charms straight into Li Changshou's hands, then turned and walked off toward a stall as though nothing had happened.
Li Changshou found it a little amusing. He cupped his hands toward her retreating back.
This ice maiden was, without a doubt, nowhere near living up to her name.