Chapter 408 - 215: Wuchen’s Decision

Chapter 408: Chapter 215: Wuchen’s Decision

The furnishings in the room were extremely simple: a bed, a rough wooden table, and two equally rough wooden stools.

In the corner were piled some dried seaweed and a few processed materials from low-level sea beasts.

This was a microcosm of the Wangyue Sect’s struggle to survive overseas.

Ye Qingyue glanced around the room, her nose stinging with the urge to cry.

She fought to keep her tears from falling.

"Master, you should rest." Ye Qingyue’s voice was soft, with a faint, almost imperceptible tremor.

She knelt down, wanting to help Su Yingxue take off her old, dust-covered cloth shoes.

But Su Yingxue flinched, pulling her foot back slightly as she placed an aged hand on the back of Ye Qingyue’s.

The hand was withered and thin, covered in wrinkles and faint age spots. It was ice-cold.

"Qingyue, I can do it myself." Su Yingxue’s voice was hoarse with exhaustion, but her gaze was gentle as she looked at her.

"Please, let me." Ye Qingyue gently but stubbornly pushed her master’s hand away and tenderly removed her shoes.

The soles of the shoes were badly worn.

She set the shoes aside and fetched a basin of fresh water.

It was fresh water that Shen Wuchen had silently conjured with a Magic Technique—clear and ice-cold.

Ye Qingyue soaked a clean cloth in the water and wrung it out.

She knelt by the bed and carefully began to wipe Su Yingxue’s face.

Her fingertips brushed across the deep wrinkles, feeling the slackness of the skin.

She remembered how her master used to look—an ethereally beautiful Fairy of the Wangyue Sect.

Now, the passage of time and the life-draining Forbidden Technique had carved such cruel marks upon her.

In the end, she couldn’t hold back her tears. They slid silently down her cheeks, dripping onto the back of Su Yingxue’s hand.

Scalding hot.

Su Yingxue trembled slightly and raised her other hand to gently cup Ye Qingyue’s cheek.

Her fingertips were cold, carrying the salty tang of the sea breeze as they clumsily wiped away the tears.

"Silly child, what are you crying for?" Su Yingxue’s voice was very soft, tinged with a sigh.

"Your master has gotten old and ugly. Did I scare you?"

"No, that’s not it." Ye Qingyue shook her head forcefully, grabbing her master’s hand and pressing it tightly against her own face.

"I just... my heart just aches for you."

She buried her face in her master’s cold palm, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Su Yingxue said no more. She simply used her withered hand to gently pat Ye Qingyue’s back, again and again.

Just like when she used to soothe her to sleep as a child.

Outside, the sound of the waves rolled in with their eternal rhythm.

The sea breeze slipped through the cracks of the simple wooden window, carrying its damp, salty scent.

After a long while, Ye Qingyue finally lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen.

She forced a smile.

"Master, let me comb your hair."

Su Yingxue looked at her tear-reddened eyes and nodded, her gaze filled with a boundless affection.

"Alright."

Ye Qingyue helped Su Yingxue sit down on one of the wooden stools.

She stood behind her master and untied her startlingly white, snow-like hair.

The strands were dry and had lost their former luster. They felt light and airy in her hand, as if they might break at any moment.

Ye Qingyue took a Jade Comb from her Storage Bag.

It was a birthday gift her master had given her years ago.

She held the comb, her movements as gentle as could be, as if she were handling the world’s most fragile treasure.

From root to tip, she combed it out, little by little.

The teeth of the comb glided through the white hair, making a soft, rustling sound.

The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of the combing and the accompaniment of the waves.

Su Yingxue’s eyes were slightly closed, a rare look of peace on her face.

"Master, your hair... it used to be so black and shiny." Ye Qingyue’s voice was choked with emotion.

"Now it’s like snow." Su Yingxue’s voice was calm, even holding a hint of a smile.

"That’s nice too. It looks clean."

Ye Qingyue’s hand paused as tears welled up in her eyes again.

She took a deep breath and continued combing.

"Let me tie it up for you, alright?"

"Mm," Su Yingxue murmured in agreement.

Ye Qingyue carefully gathered the white hair and secured it with a simple wooden hairpin.

Her movements were a bit clumsy, far from the nimble skill Su Yingxue had shown when she used to comb Ye Qingyue’s hair years ago.

But the care she took was even greater than before.

After the hair was done, Ye Qingyue looked at her master’s thin back.

She stepped outside.

Shen Wuchen immediately looked over.

"Wuchen, could you... make some plain Spirit Rice Porridge?" Ye Qingyue’s voice was pleading.

Shen Wuchen nodded without asking a single question.

He turned and walked toward the Flying Ship.

Soon, he returned with a small, warm pot of Spirit Rice Porridge.

The grains of rice were translucent, emitting a faint Spiritual Qi and a delicate fragrance.

Ye Qingyue took the porridge and thanked him.

Shen Wuchen just gave a slight nod and returned to his spot by the reef.

Ye Qingyue carried the porridge back into the room.

"Master, have some porridge." She moved the other wooden stool and sat down in front of Su Yingxue.

She scooped up a small spoonful, blew on it gently, and then brought it to Su Yingxue’s lips.

Su Yingxue looked at the spoon held to her lips, then at Ye Qingyue’s focused expression, and her eyes grew slightly moist.

She opened her mouth, and the warm porridge slid down her throat.

It was very plain Spirit Rice Porridge, with only the fragrance of the rice.

But at this moment, it was more delicious than any ambrosia.

"It’s delicious," Su Yingxue said softly.

Ye Qingyue smiled. On her tear-stained face, the smile was like a flower after the rain.

She scooped up another spoonful and carefully blew on it to cool it down.

One spoonful, and then another.

Su Yingxue ate quietly.

She watched Ye Qingyue’s focused expression as she cooled the porridge.

She watched her still-youthful, radiant face.

She watched the unconcealable ache and affection in her eyes.

Time seemed to rewind to many years ago.

On a peak in the Wangyue Sect, a little Ye Qingyue had been sick, and she had fed her medicine just like this, one spoonful at a time.

Back then, she had been in her prime, and Ye Qingyue was still a naive young girl.