Chapter Forty-Seven: Feng Qinghe’s Concerns

“Where did you say you’re going?” Yan Yaofeng heard him clearly but couldn’t make sense of it. “The Immortal Realm?”

“Yes, once you climb to the top of the Heavenly Tribulation Stairway, you arrive at the Immortal Realm.” Yan Qingye met Yan Yaofeng’s gaze, his eyes brimming with determination.

Yan Yaofeng tugged at his beard twice, stunned into silence for a long moment, his blood pressure surging to his head. “You reckless brat, are you out of your mind? That’s the Heavenly Tribulation Stairway! Tribulation! Are you bullying your old man because I’ve only had an only son for three generations, and you insist on testing my limits every day?”

He made a show of raising his hand as if to strike Yan Qingye, but strangely, Yan Qingye didn’t dodge at all. He stood there straight as a rod.

“Go ahead, Father. This time, I’ll let you hit me as much as you want!”

“You…” Yan Yaofeng’s hand, raised high, fell gently back down. “You! Are you trying to infuriate me to death?”

“Father…” Yan Qingye’s voice softened considerably. “You saw what happened to the Ming family. Only by following my little master can I grow stronger and protect the Yan family from being bullied.”

Yan Yaofeng sighed. “You’re my only son… That stairway is a hundred levels high—how do you plan to climb it?”

Having been vigorous for tens of thousands of years, Yan Yaofeng suddenly seemed much older, his eyes dim and weary.

Hearing his father speak this way, Yan Qingye knew Yan Yaofeng had relented. He grinned cheekily.

“Are you reluctant to let me go?”

Yan Yaofeng shot him a glare.

Yan Qingye scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “Don’t you know my little master’s abilities by now? She might seem indifferent and detached, but she always paves the way for Senior Brother Qinghe, cares about Chen Yu’s family affairs, and stands up for Senior Junyang in times of crisis. She would never turn a blind eye to me. I’m lucky, Father—what’s there to worry about?”

Yan Yaofeng sighed again. “If that’s your decision, then go. You want to become stronger to protect the Yan family—how can I stand in your way if my child wants to fly higher?”

“Then you keep resting, Father. I’ll return to the Phoenix Clan to find my little master.” Yan Qingye’s heart was light, and he smiled at Yan Yaofeng as he always did.

Yan Yaofeng looked him over carefully. “Alright, off with you.” With that, he turned, closed the door, and went back to bed.

Yan Qingye stood at the door for a moment, his throat tight. He exhaled deeply and turned resolutely away.

Yan Yaofeng sat on his bed, listening to the fading footsteps, lost in thought.

But Yan Qingye didn’t head straight for the Phoenix Clan. Instead, he went first to the thirty-seventh realm to find Ming Zhu.

Ming Zhu was the most skilled alchemist in the upper realm. Right now, she was busy concocting all sorts of medicines for the wounded of the Ming family—a perfect opportunity for Yan Qingye to learn.

Only by mastering the basics of alchemy could he be qualified to seek out You Xiyue and form a contract.

...

Seventeenth realm, Phoenix Clan.

After much deliberation among the clan elders, the duel between Feng Qinghe and Feng Tianwu was set for seven days hence.

Once she received word, Feng Qinghe made her way to the guest courtyard.

Junyang was sitting in the pavilion, sipping monkey wine left behind by Yan Qingye.

“The date’s set?” Junyang asked.

Feng Qinghe nodded. “Yes, seven days from now. Is Master still asleep?”

Junyang glanced toward You Xiyue’s room, raising an eyebrow. “She’s out.”

Feng Qinghe looked as well, and saw You Xiyue pushing open her door.

Feng Qinghe rose and bowed to her. When You Xiyue had taken a seat, Feng Qinghe offered another bow. “In seven days, this disciple will face Feng Tianwu in a final duel. Do you have any instructions for your disciple, Master?”

You Xiyue snatched the monkey wine from Junyang, took a sip, and, perhaps unused to the fiery taste, frowned slightly. “Just… try not to get hurt.”

The tension left Feng Qinghe’s body, and she even let out a laugh. “Yes, Master. I understand.”

Junyang tugged Feng Qinghe down onto a bench and handed her a cup of monkey wine as well. “That little girl Feng Tianwu is your elder sister—you should know her somewhat. There’s nothing much to warn you about; you know yourself best. Just remember, you still have your little ancestor and me on your side. Besides, Yan Qingye and the others are more than enough.”

“Alright.” Feng Qinghe smiled, tilting her head back to drink.

Thinking of Feng Tianwu, her gaze sharpened.

The cherished daughter of the Phoenix Clan, the pride of the thirty-second realm, and the most favored disciple of Elder Qingmei from the Violet Cliffs Palace.

“Perhaps… people from the Violet Cliffs Palace will come, too.” Feng Qinghe set her cup down, looking with some concern at You Xiyue.

You Xiyue tilted her head, puzzled. “Violet Cliffs Palace?”

Junyang thought the name sounded familiar, as if he’d just heard it recently. He scratched his chin, pondering.

“It’s Feng Tianwu’s sect, in the thirty-second realm,” Feng Qinghe said.

“Ah…” Junyang suddenly understood. “No wonder it sounded familiar—Yan Qingye mentioned it.”

“Oh,” You Xiyue replied, her indifference unchanged.

Feng Qinghe pressed her lips together. “I’m worried they might cause you trouble, Master.”

Junyang was surprised. “Are they that reckless?”

“Hm?” Feng Qinghe was confused. “I don’t know if they’re reckless, but in the upper realm, they are a major sect. The children of the five great families’ secondary branches usually go there to study.”

“I’ve already sent three of the five great family heads flying home, and they still dare to trouble our little ancestor? If that’s not reckless, what is?” Junyang said.

Feng Qinghe gave a helpless smile. “The family heads being sent flying home is a shameful thing—they’d never admit it. So the other realms only hear rumors and won’t believe them easily.”

Junyang nodded knowingly. “Don’t worry. With me here, three or thirty makes no difference.”

Seeing that neither You Xiyue nor Junyang considered him a burden, Feng Qinghe felt much more at ease.

He was grateful for all the help You Xiyue had given him, and he dreaded causing trouble for the two of them.

“I’ll return to my room to cultivate, then.”

“Go on,” said You Xiyue, finally glancing up at him. “Too much is as bad as too little. As you are now, you can already defeat her.”

“I know, Master.”

Feng Qinghe bowed and left the guest courtyard.

“When should we tell our junior disciple about going to the Immortal Realm?” Junyang asked.

“After the duel.”

Junyang looked carefully at You Xiyue; indeed, she showed not a trace of reluctance.

To be honest, even he had grown a bit attached to life in the upper realm.

But it was fine—at least Yan Qingye would be coming to the Immortal Realm with them. Thinking of Yan Qingye, Junyang raised his cup and murmured, “That Yan Qingye—he’s been missing all day.”

You Xiyue, a little bored herself, raised her palm and traced a circle in the air. A veil of water formed, revealing the figures of Yan Qingye and Ming Zhu.

Ming Zhu was instructing Yan Qingye on how to make the most basic healing salve.

Yan Qingye was attentive, but his knowledge of celestial herbs was limited to the most precious few.

He picked up a plant that closely resembled Bone Mending Grass but was actually Beast-Repelling Grass, and tossed it into the mortar.

Junyang couldn’t help but pull a face. “That’s it—the pharmacy’s doomed. And this is just basic medicine making. Once he learns to refine pills, the whole Ming family might be beyond saving.”