Chapter 8: The Celestial River Wrapped in Jade
Upon the towering mountain, cold winds howled and swirling mists veiled the peaks.
It was known throughout the martial world that this mountain was called Yuehan, the domain of Rong Yuyan, the most formidable martial alliance leader in the realm.
At its base lay a strict decree—no one dared to cross the boundary.
His influence stretched across the nine states, his strength formidable and inscrutable, having thwarted countless assassins who sought his life.
The warm pool’s waters stretched wide, shrouded in white mist.
Beside the gentle flowing stream, every pavilion and waterside pavilion exuded exquisite elegance.
In the lake’s central pavilion, a man in white sat poised.
His skin was as smooth and pure as jade; his fingers lightly caressed the five-stringed zither, each note ringing clear and crisp like jade striking water, delighting the ear.
At that moment, a young man in a blue robe entered slowly.
After a moment’s hesitation, he bowed respectfully, “Alliance Leader, two women of unknown identity request an audience at the mountain gate.”
In an instant, Rong Yuyan turned sharply. His icy, stunning eyes held a chilling coldness.
Clad in snow-white robes, as if untouched by dust, he resembled a banished celestial being, radiating immense pressure unlike any mortal.
The man uttered no words, yet murderous intent radiated fiercely from him.
The young attendant trembled and dropped to his knees, hastily explaining, “I know your rules, but the women said this concerns whether you will live another five years…”
Suddenly, a zither string snapped, the music halted abruptly!
A powerful aura rippled outward from the instrument!
The attendant staggered back several steps, a metallic taste rising in his throat.
Rong Yuyan’s eyes, framed by raven lashes as dark as blood, glinted with absolute killing intent, sending chills down one’s spine.
His illness was a secret known only to himself and this trusted aide—no more than three knew.
How dare this man speak so recklessly?
“I… I truly did not know!” The attendant clutched his aching chest, kneeling loyally. “The woman insisted, and I dared not withhold the message.”
A cold smile curved at the corner of Rong Yuyan’s lips, his piercing gaze sharp as a blade.
“Bring her in.”
His voice was cold yet magnetic, irresistibly drawing one in.
The pristine white jade steps led inward; Ji Hua and Liu Yiyi both wore bamboo hats and veils.
Upon entering, a gentle warmth and the scent of begonia blossoms greeted them.
Within the winding pavilions by the water, a man in ethereal white sat—a face as flawless as a jade crown, his long robes flowing.
His sharp, limpid peach blossom eyes swept over them coldly, exuding a commanding presence so formidable and frosty that one could not help but bow from the heart.
Ji Hua was struck deeply, bowing slightly with a modest fist and adopting a changed tone: “Thank you, Alliance Leader, for granting this humble woman an audience.”
Rong Yuyan’s gaze remained icy, as though surveying a corpse.
The zither’s melody resumed—a flawless continuation despite the broken string.
Liu Yiyi’s chest trembled as if the next moment she might fall from the sheer force.
She kept her head lowered, barely daring to breathe.
Ji Hua’s brow lifted in a confident smile, calm and unhurried: “Honest words for honest dealings—I save your life, and you protect me in return.”
The attendant’s fists clenched in frustration.
He had seen too many like this on Yuehan Mountain, always thinking they could outwit the alliance leader with petty tricks!
He should never have allowed the message through for such a faint hope.
Just as he moved to dismiss them, a clear female voice rang out again.
“One year. But if urgent matters arise, how can Alliance Leader, residing long on Yuehan Mountain, respond to me in time?”
Rong Yuyan’s cold smile curled, his peach blossom eyes sharp with icy disdain: “You dare negotiate terms with me? Do you know your fate?”
Ji Hua’s eyes were cold and piercing behind her veil as she met the man’s gaze.
“That is natural,” she replied without fear, smiling gently. “I come prepared to cure the poison within you.”
A fierce cold wind swept in, laden with murderous intent, nearly knocking all off balance.
Liu Yiyi faltered, panic rising in her heart; instinctively she stepped before Ji Hua, trembling with unease.
What kind of demon had her mistress come to meet?
Her legs weakened, while the attendant’s face grew ashen as he barely steadied himself.
If the alliance leader remained calm, today these two might well meet their doom here.
The attendant’s eyes darkened. “How did you come by this knowledge?”
Ji Hua shot a glance at Rong Yuyan, whose murderous gaze spoke volumes.
If she answered poorly, she would join the countless bones beneath Yuehan Mountain.
Still, her eyes shone steady: “Some medical arts do not require pulse-taking or listening; a glance alone reveals all.”
Before she finished, a cold snort came from the attendant.
He was weary of her nonsense and immediately retorted, “Such medicine is impossible—”
He stopped abruptly, turning toward Rong Yuyan.
“No, I have heard of a supreme healer in the martial world, Jiang Wuwang, who diagnoses all ailments and life or death by sight alone. He once said precisely the same!”
Could it be…
The attendant eyed the woman suspiciously. Was she…?
But Jiang Wuwang was an elderly man, long since passed his prime.
Ji Hua’s lips curved faintly. “If the Alliance Leader doubts, summon a group. I will not touch them but will reveal their conditions.”
“You…?” The attendant was shocked, instinctively looking to Rong Yuyan, whose cold eyes gave the signal.
Without hesitation, he summoned five masked men.
Besides their own, no outsider could distinguish them.
The attendant’s face grew icy. “Begin. Watch your neck!”
Liu Yiyi broke out in a cold sweat, too frightened to speak.
Before the men could react, Ji Hua stood before them.
“You, yin deficiency with internal heat, fiery temper, recent ulcers in the mouth, indigestion, and bad breath.”
The blue-robed man’s expression darkened instantly. Who was this woman?
Had the alliance leader summoned them because they had complained about their own bad breath?
His face soured as Ji Hua moved on to the next.
“You have internal heat accumulation, a quick temper, poor sleep with teeth grinding and snoring.”
Before he could speak, a talkative companion interjected enthusiastically: “Fairy, you’re amazing! This guy’s snoring shakes the heavens; I get headaches every night!”
Liu Yiyi stared wide-eyed. What kind of being was her mistress?
As the words fell, Rong Yuyan’s chilling gaze swept over them. The man hastily fell silent, trembling in fear.
“Alliance Leader, I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn! Please punish me!”
A cold breeze swept by; the man felt a sharp pain in his throat and instantly lost his voice, sweat pouring down his forehead.
Ji Hua was inwardly startled; indeed, Rong Yuyan was as cold and unyielding as the legends said.
She quietly clenched her hands, feigning indifference, and moved on.
“You have yang deficiency and cold constitution, weak heart and lungs, unsuitable for exertion, occasional nighttime angina, weak digestion, and frequent flatulence.”
The man was speechless.
What a terrifying person!
Was the alliance leader trying to shame them into suicide?
“You overthink, suffer headaches and fevers, and gout in your hands.”
“You have heat above and cold below, drool in sleep soaking half your pillow, and severe hair loss.”
After the final assessment, the five men’s faces were a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.
No wonder—this woman had hit every mark!
Who was she?
Ji Hua stood with hands behind her back, her demeanor as graceful and radiant as an immortal.
The attendant’s eyes widened involuntarily; he glanced at his lord, whose dark eyes grew even deeper.
Ji Hua turned to Rong Yuyan, smiling brightly.
“Now, do you believe me?”