Volume One: Hidden in the Azure Abyss Chapter Forty-Three

When Jinli awoke, she had no idea how much time had passed. She found herself in a palace, the lavish decor glittering with candlelight, utterly unafraid of extravagance.

This must be the royal palace of the Kingdom of Xi.

She tried to sit up, but her body was devoid of strength, and not a trace of spiritual power could she summon.

Perhaps she would recover in a few days. She lowered herself from the couch, surveying her surroundings, when someone outside, having heard her stir, opened the door and entered.

The sudden intrusion startled her.

“Who... who are you?”

“You’re awake.”

The newcomer was a lively, beautiful young woman, dressed in a gown adorned with a hundred flowers over which she wore a brilliant pink jacket. Her hair was styled in a precise lily bun, with a branch of begonia fashioned from silk pinned at the crown.

She was lovely indeed, and the jewels she wore spoke of noble birth.

“And you... who might you be? Where is this place?”

The young woman sat down, and the maid behind her stepped forward to pour a cup of tea. Then she asked, “What is your relationship with Brother Geng?”

Her eyes scrutinized Jinli, as though assessing and probing her.

“Geng Yuan? Where is he?”

The girl folded her hands. “I asked you first.”

“We... that depends on how you define it.” Jinli, too, was testing the waters. The young woman’s identity was unclear, and Jinli’s powers had not returned; she could only proceed cautiously.

“I am Princess Xilan of the Kingdom of Xi. This is the royal palace. You have been asleep for over a month.”

A month!

If only a month had passed in the mortal realm, then perhaps all was well. Yet she had no idea what had transpired; where was Geng Yuan? This did not look like a conquered land—everything seemed at peace.

Jinli pressed on, “Where is Geng Yuan?”

“Brother Geng has gone to the front. He has not yet returned.”

“To war?”

“Princess, could you tell me everything that has happened in the past month?”

Xilan nodded but set a condition. “I will, but you must agree to something first.”

“Please, speak your mind, Princess.”

“I do not like you. I like even less that you are with Brother Geng. To be frank, I am very fond of him, and I wish you would leave. If you do, I will grant you a lifetime of wealth and splendor.”

There was no attempt to hide the wariness in the young woman’s eyes.

Jinli smiled. “I’m afraid it’s not up to you. That depends on Brother Geng.”

After speaking, she casually cast a divination—Xi had won a great victory. It seemed the crisis had passed.

She rose and was about to leave when Xilan suddenly said, “I know you are a cultivator.”

Jinli paused and turned her head. “What is it you wish to say, Princess?”

This time, Xilan’s eyes were laced with mockery. “Shouldn’t those who cultivate immortality avoid entanglement in worldly love?”

“You speak truly, Princess. Thank you for saving my life. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

“You are not allowed to go!” Xilan shouted.

Jinli halted again, turning back. “Is there something else, Princess?”

Xilan seemed flustered. “Where... where are you going?”

“Why, I am simply returning to where I came from.”

“You mustn’t go. If you leave, Brother Geng will blame me.”

A sly look flashed in Jinli’s eyes. “So, you’re here to keep an eye on me?”

Xilan didn’t answer, only straightened her back with pride.

Jinli smiled. “Since you know I am a cultivator, Princess, I suppose there are others like me within the palace. Would you take me to meet them?”

The girl looked at her deeply, recalling that Master Xiaoze had once said, upon Jinli’s awakening, he would bring her to him.

For some unknown reason, Xilan felt a sense of imbalance. She had always possessed everything, but since meeting this woman, all her former pride had vanished.

“Come.”

Master Xiaoze resided in the Pavilion at the Heart of the Lake, but there was no path leading to it. Perhaps he truly was an immortal. Xilan could only lead her to the shore, where the lake sparkled under the sun. Jinli swept her sleeves, stepped onto the wind, and entered the Pavilion.

Inside, incense smoke curled in the air, the vermilion doors tightly closed, yet melodious zither music could be heard.

She knocked gently—once was enough for the door to open. Entering, she bowed. “Jinli, junior, requests an audience with Master Xiaoze.”

A figure descended the stairs—between his brows lay the mark of an immortal, a duster in his hand, hair bound with a crown, exuding the aura of a true cultivator. He saluted her. “I greet the Divine Lady.”

He recognized her as Divine Lady. In all her experience, there was no such person in the mortal world. Perhaps he was the one who had healed her injuries.

She inclined her head slightly and asked, “Sir, do you know me?”

Xiaoze smiled calmly. “Forgive me, Divine Lady, but this is a matter of fate—it would not be appropriate to reveal more.”

Sensing his tact, Jinli moved to the main topic. “You were the one who saved me and my companion?”

“Indeed, Divine Lady. You are most perceptive.”

“And Geng Yuan?”

“The Immortal Lord was gravely wounded, yet still brought you to me. It was no small feat. Moreover, his cultivation is profound, so I struck a bargain with him.”

“What sort of bargain?”

“The fortunes of Xi were in decline, and I could not bear to see it fall. Therefore, I asked the Immortal Lord to lead our forces himself, to preserve peace for a time.”

Jinli pondered. Looking at Lin’an before her, she saw both auspiciousness and peril in Xi’s fate.

Her divination was not as precise as Sang Li’s—Sang Li could determine life and death with a single cast, but she could not.

Xiaoze flicked his duster, and tea, already brewed, stood ready on the round table.

He gestured for her to sit.

Jinli took her seat.

“Why did you guide Geng Yuan here? Without such direction, wounded as you both were, you could not have reached the capital.”

Xiaoze replied slowly, “Forgive me, Divine Lady. Perhaps it is fate that binds us.”

“Fate? What do you mean by that?”

“Do you know why I chose to practice cultivation?”

Jinli remained silent, listening quietly as he continued, “I was once a demon on Mount Tianyu. One day, I fell into the mortal world and was captured by an Immortal Lord. By chance, I fell into a dream and witnessed the destruction of all living things. I saw a compassionate goddess—her birth, her passing. Later, the goddess sent me to the Immortal Realm to cultivate, and I never saw her again.”

As Jinli listened, a vague sorrow filled her heart. She traced the rim of her cup, eyes lowered, and asked, “That goddess—was it me?”

Xiaoze smiled faintly. “Perhaps, or perhaps not.”

Such an ambiguous answer left Jinli at a loss.

“Then, Master, do you mean that I too will vanish from the Six Realms, as she did?”

Xiaoze shook his head. “The future is clouded to me. Perhaps I have not yet understood the goddess’s resolve in facing death, nor the origins of this world.”

“If you cannot comprehend it, why dwell on it?”

“In this world, there is neither true destruction nor true birth. Can you understand that, Divine Lady?”

She knew her fate as the Divine Lady; she knew she belonged wholly to all living things.

She feared death, and at times still wondered why the sacrifice must be hers.

The truths of the Divine Lady remained elusive.

After setting down his teacup, Xiaoze gazed at Jinli and spoke softly, “I have not yet understood these principles. I hope you never do, yet I cannot bear to see the world fall into sorrow.”

Jinli smiled, lifting her eyes. “If sorrow comes, I will make my choice.”

She rose. “Thank you, sir, for saving me. The one you wait for will come, eventually.”

Xiaoze watched her go; her departing figure was so like the one he remembered—waving farewell without turning back.

A single light robe, a solitary figure.

Three days passed.

Every day, Jinli stood atop the city gates, gazing into the distance, hoping to see a fluttering banner. Yet after three days, there was nothing, only Xilan’s daily reports of victory.

The people cheered, rejoicing at having gained an immortal general, but only she worried—was he wounded, was he in danger?

On the fifth day, atop the city wall, she finally saw the flag, high and proud.

The Xi army had triumphed and returned; the whole kingdom threw open its gates in welcome. Jinli watched from the wall as a young man in armor rode into the city, his face cold and resolute.

He was darker, and thinner.

But when he stopped, he searched the crowd, hoping to find the one he longed for most.

As soon as Geng Yuan returned to the palace, he went straight to Xilan’s chambers.

“Ah Jin.”

Jinli’s hand tightened around her book, her heart skipping as she looked up and smiled softly, “You’re back?”

Geng Yuan’s somber face brightened with joy and tenderness. He ran to her, pulling her into his arms again and again, whispering, “I missed you. I missed you.”

Jinli set her book aside and wrapped her arms around his waist in return.

“Let go!” Xilan cried out loudly.