Love Burning Amidst the Ashes. - Chapter 27 - Journey Into Peril
No sooner had he returned to his alchemy chamber than—
**Knock. Knock. Knock.**
Three faint knocks echoed against the heavy stone door, each delivered in a peculiar rhythm, as subtle as the chirping of insects in the dead of night.
Xu Qing Xuan stiffened.
His thoughts snapped back to reality, though the violent pounding of his heart refused to subside. Drawing in a slow breath, he forced down the turmoil raging within him. Lifting the bronze lamp, whose flame flickered like the last ember before extinction, he made his way toward the stone door with heavy, weary, yet unwavering steps.
The moment the door swung open, a figure shrank within the shadows came into view.
It was **Chen Lao Jiu**.
The smooth, ingratiating smile that usually occupied his weathered face was nowhere to be seen. In its place lingered a mixture of fear and urgency. His murky little eyes darted warily from side to side, while both hands clutched a flattened beast-hide pouch that carried a faint odor of rats.
“Brother Xuan!”
The instant he saw Xu Qing Xuan, Chen Lao Jiu hurried forward as though grasping at his final lifeline. Lowering his voice to a raspy whisper, he gasped,
“News… there’s news from Weeping Blood Valley!”
“‘Copper Thread’… only one made it back.”
“It was barely alive.”
“It delivered this… and died immediately afterward.”
With trembling hands, he pulled out an object no larger than a thumb, wrapped layer upon layer in oil paper, and quickly shoved it into Xu Qing Xuan’s hands.
Several dried, dark-brown bloodstains marked the wrapping.
Xu Qing Xuan’s heart sank.
The moment his fingertips touched the package, a faint trace of Qing Feng’s violent baleful qi, mingled with an overwhelming scent of blood, pierced through the oil paper and struck directly at his senses.
Ignoring the stabbing pain surging through his Sea of Consciousness and the throbbing ache of the old wound in his dantian, he hurriedly unwrapped it.
It was not the soul-inscribed secret message he had desperately hoped Qing Feng had managed to send—such messages could only be deciphered through a corresponding soul imprint.
Inside…
There was only a single fragment.
A tiny shard from the jade container that had once held the **Bone-Mending Paste**.
Its edges were scorched black.
It was caked with dried blood and mud.
Lingering upon it was an incredibly faint aura—one that caused Xu Qing Xuan’s eyes to widen in uncontrollable fury.
It was the very same frigid poison Scarface had injected into Qing Feng.
Mixed with it was another scent—
The nauseating stench of rotting vegetation.
“The… Bone-Mending Paste…”
Chen Lao Jiu swallowed hard, unable to hide the lingering fear in his voice.
“The jade box… was shattered.”
“‘Copper Thread’ only managed to bring back this much.”
“And before it died…”
“It kept scratching at the ground with its claws.”
“The direction it pointed…”
“…was deeper inside Weeping Blood Valley.”
“…Toward Soulbreak Cliff.”
**Boom!**
It felt as though heavenly tribulation lightning exploded within Xu Qing Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness.
The Bone-Mending Paste had shattered.
Qing Feng was gravely wounded.
Soulbreak Cliff.
He had fallen from the cliff!
The icy pulse of the Yin-Yang Jade Pendant suddenly intensified. At the same time, the tearing pain deep within his chest, born from the blood bond between the brothers, surged back with unprecedented clarity and despair.
“Urgh…”
Xu Qing Xuan let out a muffled groan as his body swayed violently.
His face turned deathly pale.
The metallic taste of blood rose into his throat, but he forced it back down.
His fingers clenched the bloodstained jade fragment so tightly that its jagged edges dug deep into his palm. Only the sharp pain kept the last trace of clarity from slipping away.
Qing Feng…
Had fallen from Soulbreak Cliff?
Overwhelming terror and an icy killing intent coiled around his heart like twin venomous serpents.
He had to leave.
Immediately.
No matter the cost.
“Chen Lao Jiu.”
Xu Qing Xuan’s voice rasped like sandpaper grinding against stone, cold enough to freeze the air.
“Weeping Blood Valley.”
“Soulbreak Cliff.”
“Do you have a map?”
“The nearest route.”
“The fastest way there.”
Startled by the tangible killing intent pouring from Xu Qing Xuan, Chen Lao Jiu instinctively took half a step back before hurriedly nodding.
“I… I do!”
“A rough map!”
“The quickest route goes through the eastern foothills of the Jade Snow Mountains!”
“But, Brother Xuan… that place is cursed.”
“The Blood Wolf Gang and the Thunder Prison Sect have been fighting like mad these past few days.”
“And Soulbreak Cliff…”
“…once you go in…”
“…you never come back out.”
“The map.”
Xu Qing Xuan cut him off, extending his hand.
“Give it to me.”
Time was Qing Feng’s life.
“**Cold Mist Ridge? A mutated Snow Lotus?**”
Steward Liu arched a brow, a flicker of greed flashing through his eyes.
The news of **Xu Qing Xuan** refining a **Supreme-Grade Condensed Dew Pill**—the *Frozen Soul Essence Dew*—had already spread throughout the sect. No one doubted the young alchemist’s extraordinary talent. Half of the profits, especially from pills refined with a mutated Snow Lotus, would amount to a considerable fortune.
Besides, although Cold Mist Ridge was inhabited by demonic beasts, it was nowhere near as dangerous as **Weeping Blood Valley**. If a mere mid-stage Qi Refinement apprentice alchemist happened to lose his life there… it would hardly cause a stir.
Feigning contemplation, Steward Liu tapped his fingers lightly against the desk.
“Hmm… A mutated Snow Lotus is indeed a rare treasure.”
He paused before nodding slowly.
“Very well. Since your heart is so devoted to the Dao, I’ll grant you ten days.”
His tone abruptly turned stern.
“However, while Cold Mist Ridge isn’t considered a forbidden land, it is still dangerous. If you fail to return before the deadline—or should any misfortune befall you—you know the sect’s regulations.”
“Hand over your token for registration.”
“Thank you, Steward Liu.”
Xu Qing Xuan bowed respectfully, concealing the icy chill lurking deep within his eyes.
After registering his jade identity token, he received an iron pass engraved with the character **’Departure’**, along with a simple map marking the location of Cold Mist Ridge.
Leaving the Affairs Hall, Xu Qing Xuan wasted no time.
He did not even return to his alchemy chamber.
Passing through the Outer Sect marketplace, he spent every remaining spirit stone he possessed on several bottles of ordinary Qi Recovery Pills, packets of Blood-Staunching Powder, and a small pouch of **Beast-Repelling Powder**, a foul-smelling substance commonly used by mortal hunters.
—
Night descended swiftly.
Like thick black ink poured across the heavens, darkness swallowed the endless palaces and pavilions of the **Heavenly Secrets Pavilion**.
Xu Qing Xuan’s figure drifted silently through the shadows like a wisp of smoke.
Thanks to his intimate familiarity with the herb gardens and their winding paths, he effortlessly avoided several patrols of enforcement disciples before arriving at a secluded corner along the outer edge of the sect’s grand protective formation.
Nearby lay an abandoned dumping ground for discarded medicinal waste.
The pungent odor of decay served as perfect cover.
The towering formation barrier shimmered faintly with spiritual light, while an invisible pressure blanketed the surrounding area.
Xu Qing Xuan finally stopped.
Leaning heavily against a cold stone wall overgrown with withered vines, he breathed in ragged gasps.
The injuries he had forcefully suppressed were beginning to retaliate after hours of relentless movement and unbearable mental strain.
The old wound in his dantian felt as though it were being carved apart repeatedly by a dull blade.
His Sea of Consciousness throbbed with relentless pain as the Yin-Yang Jade Pendant continued its frantic pulsation.
He pulled out the Qi Recovery Pills he had just purchased.
Without hesitation, he swallowed two at once.
A faint current of warmth spread sluggishly through his meridians.
It was nothing more than a drop of water against a blazing inferno.
Time was running out.
Qing Feng’s fate remained unknown.
He could wait no longer.
Drawing a deep breath, a resolute gleam flashed across Xu Qing Xuan’s eyes.
He removed the dull Yin-Yang Jade Pendant from his waist and gripped it tightly in his left hand.
With his right, he carefully withdrew the ancient black bronze compass hidden beneath his robes.
“If this compass could track us before…”
“…then it can certainly find my little brother.”
His gaze settled upon the compass.
It felt cold and unexpectedly heavy in his hand.
Its surface was covered in countless intricate silver runes that flowed endlessly, weaving together into an unfathomably profound miniature formation.
At its center, the needle floated motionlessly, pointing nowhere.
Xu Qing Xuan sat down cross-legged.
Placing the compass upon his lap, he pressed the Yin-Yang Jade Pendant against its center.
His fingers formed an intricate hand seal as he carefully guided every strand of divine sense he could still command into the compass.
*Bzz…*
The silver runes glimmered faintly.
Then…
The light faded once more.
Like a slumbering ancient beast, the compass regarded such a meager offering with utter indifference.
A ruthless determination surfaced within Xu Qing Xuan’s eyes.
Without the slightest hesitation, he formed another seal with his left hand.
A thread of pale green Wood Spiritual Energy condensed at his fingertips.
With the resolve of one offering a sacrifice…
He drove it mercilessly into the center of his forehead.
“Pfft!”
A mouthful of blazing-hot essence blood burst from his lips like a crimson arrow, splattering across both the ancient compass and the weathered Yin-Yang Jade Pendant.
The instant his blood touched them—
*BZZZZZ—!*
The compass erupted.
Every silver rune blazed with dazzling brilliance as they whirled frantically across its surface, releasing a piercing hum.
The needle spun wildly like something possessed.
At the same moment, an overwhelming torrent of cold, violent, utterly chaotic power surged through the blood connection and crashed directly into Xu Qing Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness.
**BOOM—!!**
His entire body convulsed violently.
It felt as though an invisible hammer had smashed directly into his soul.
His vision shattered.
Countless fragmented, distorted images flashed before his eyes with blinding speed.
The first vision—
An endless abyss.
A lake of thick, blood-red liquid.
A charred figure struggled desperately through the freezing crimson waters before painfully dragging himself onto dark scarlet rocks.
Blood poured from his nose and mouth.
Beneath the scorched flesh of his right arm, spiderweb-like demonic markings pulsed violently, radiating a sinister crimson glow.
The despair emanating from the scene was suffocating.
The second vision—
A smooth cliff face as polished as a mirror.
Enormous ancient runes flickered faintly within drifting blood mist, exuding an aura of immeasurable antiquity.
A narrow crack split the cliff.
At its edge grew a strange plant of dark violet-black.
Silver lightning patterns covered every leaf.
At its crown hung a single fruit the size of a dragon’s eye.
Its core swirled with chaotic dark-purple light.
The third vision—
The charred figure’s eyes suddenly blazed with savage determination.
With his left hand, he seized the strange fruit and swallowed it whole.
An instant later, his body arched violently.
Blinding cracks of lightning spread across his skin.
Countless silver bolts erupted from his body in every direction.
The pain was beyond imagination.
Yet…
Hidden beneath that agony…
Was the faintest spark of life.
Qing Feng.
He was alive.
At the bottom of Soulbreak Cliff.
And he had eaten that mysterious fruit.