Chapter 13: Lost in Clouds, Mistaking Fleeting Light for a Guiding Lamp

The moment one entered the Azure Cloud Secret Realm, their landing point was determined at random.
No matter how thoroughly one prepared beforehand, the final destination of the teleportation was beyond anyone’s control.

For most, this randomness meant uncertainty.
It meant danger.

Fortunately, Su Wan’er’s landing spot wasn’t far from Luo Jiutian’s.
No one knew whether this was mere coincidence, or fate’s deliberate arrangement.

Once they regrouped, the two wasted no time.
They quickly began exploring the surrounding terrain.

Though Su Wan’er often complained about being bored or wanting to slack off, whenever Luo Jiutian took action, she would quietly stand by, sometimes even whispering reminders about movements behind him.

They passed through slopes blanketed with wildflowers and threaded their way through mist-draped woods.
When they occasionally ran into disciples of other clans, most kept their distance—no one wanted to act rashly right after entering the secret realm.

They faced danger a few times along the way.
But Su Wan’er did not rely solely on Luo Jiutian.
When she struck, her moves were sharp and decisive.
Not needlessly ruthless, but never sloppy.

Though she never stopped complaining about the bad food or the treacherous terrain, her steps never once faltered.
She followed Luo Jiutian closely, never falling behind.

As days went by, her affection meter steadily climbed.
Day after day together—fighting side by side, sitting by the campfire at night as she nibbled the roasted meat he handed her—she began speaking more freely, often rambling out disjointed, dreamlike thoughts that made no sense to him.

Before long, the system’s notification chimed:

[ Ding! Congratulations, host, for raising “Su Wan’er’s” affection value to 90! ]

The progress was quick.
Yet, just like last time—
It stalled.

No matter what he said, no matter what he did, the number refused to budge.

Luo Jiutian didn’t lose heart.
He’d encountered such situations before.
Opportunities always came, sooner or later.

A few days later, he and Su Wan’er discovered a hidden ruin deep in a secluded mountain.
Its entrance was a half-moon arch, the shattered stone doors etched with ancient, twisted carvings like grotesque maws devouring the world.
A faint tang of blood lingered in the air—unlike any other ruin they had seen.

Both of them stopped in their tracks.

Luo Jiutian stepped forward, studying the markings on the stone gate, then pulled a jade slip from his pouch to compare the patterns.
After half a stick of incense’s time, he put the slip away and relayed the findings to Su Wan’er in simple terms.

According to the records, deep within this ruin lay a relic of the ancients: the Disaster-Severing Stone.

It was unremarkable in appearance—an irregular black stone marred by cracks, exuding a strange, sinister aura.
But once activated with spiritual power, it could devour poisons, curses, and all manner of unclean forces—its effect surpassing all ordinary detoxification methods.

For this reason, many sects and clans considered it a life-preserving treasure, kept for dispelling incurable calamities.

The only pity was that it could only be used three times.
Once its charges were spent, it would crumble to dust, powerless forever.

The moment he heard this, Luo Jiutian thought of one person.

Su Wan’er’s foster mother—Wang Ruolan.
A dignified, gentle woman who in her youth had been a renowned cultivator of Tianyuan Kingdom.

Su Wan’er’s birth mother had died before she was even a year old.
From then on, Wang Ruolan had raised her as her own.
But years later, she had been cursed during an expedition, leaving her blind and her cultivation forever crippled.

At that thought, Luo Jiutian let out a quiet sigh.

Lowering his gaze, he caught sight of Su Wan’er watching him.
She was unusually silent now, her playful air gone, her eyes carrying an unspoken plea.

Clearly, she too understood what the Disaster-Severing Stone meant—
If obtained, Wang Ruolan could be healed.

Luo Jiutian’s heart stirred.
Perhaps… this was the breakthrough he needed to shatter that bottleneck at ninety.

And so, he led Su Wan’er into the ruin.

Contrary to expectations, they encountered no obstacles inside.
The protective formation at the entrance had long failed.
The mechanisms along the stone walls were corroded, useless.

The passage stretched on, empty and silent.
Only their footsteps echoed as they advanced.

This should have been a good thing.
Yet Luo Jiutian did not dare lower his guard.
He extended his divine sense, sweeping every corner repeatedly.

Noticing that he slowed his pace, Su Wan’er only glanced at him once.
She didn’t ask.
She simply followed more closely.

At last, the passage opened into a vast stone chamber.
Upon the central dais hovered a shard of black stone.
Irregularly diamond-shaped, fissures ran all across its surface.
Dark mist seeped faintly from the cracks, shifting in and out of form.

Su Wan’er’s eyes lit up, and she instinctively stepped forward.
But Luo Jiutian caught her arm.

“There’s something wrong here.”

Even as he spoke, unease gnawed at him.

Suddenly, the shadows beneath the dais stirred.
A dense black fog gathered in silence, coalescing into the spectral head of a beast.

Its sunken eyes glowed, bone horns jutted from its temples, and rows of jagged fangs gnashed with every snap, sending muffled shockwaves through the air.

Before they could react, the phantom beast lunged.

Luo Jiutian drew his sword on instinct, spiritual power flooding the blade, and slashed straight on.
Sword-light cleaved through the air—

But with a hiss, the shadow twisted, dodging effortlessly, and shot toward Su Wan’er.

“Back!”

Luo Jiutian roared, hurling himself in front of her, sword flashing.

The collision resounded like thunder.
He staggered back several steps, blood spraying across his torn robes.

“Jiutian-ge!”

Su Wan’er rushed to catch him.
Her own arm bore a bloody gash, her face pale.

Suppressing the roil of his qi and blood, Luo Jiutian gripped his sword in one hand, pointing to the dais with the other.

“Forget me… go take it. There’s no time.”

Su Wan’er turned, only to see the Disaster-Severing Stone’s cracks deepening by the moment, as though it would collapse any second.

“If you don’t take it now, it’ll shatter completely,” Luo Jiutian rasped.

She froze.

If she ran to the dais, she might seize the stone in time and give Wang Ruolan hope of healing.
But if she left him here, injured as he was, the phantom would kill him.

“Hurry!” Luo Jiutian bellowed. “I can hold it off!”

Though bloodied, he planted his feet firmly, refusing to fall.

The stone’s aura was fading fast.

Just as he was about to shout again, the phantom beast lunged once more.

At that instant, Su Wan’er moved.

She whirled, her sword blazing, striking the phantom head-on.
Though the blow barely harmed it, it bought her a crucial heartbeat.

She crouched, hoisted Luo Jiutian onto her back, and darted away without hesitation.

“Wan’er, you—”

He tried to speak, but when he met her unwavering eyes, the words died.

With Luo Jiutian on her back, Su Wan’er fled toward the exit at full speed.

The phantom roared, shaking the chamber, and gave chase.

The road back was longer than expected.
Worse—somehow, the ruin’s long-dead mechanisms had reactivated.

Floor tiles collapsed, traps reset, chasms yawned underfoot.
Guided by Luo Jiutian’s urgent directions, she barely dodged one deathtrap after another.

Still, their pace slowed.
The phantom’s roars closed in, shaking the passage with each step.

Su Wan’er’s breath came ragged.
Her legs trembled, nearly buckling.

At last, the stone gate came into view—

Only for the final trap to trigger.
The ceiling rumbled, rocks crashing down.
The entire tunnel shook.

Her spiritual power drained, her body exhausted, Su Wan’er’s knees gave out.
She collapsed heavily.

The boulders above tumbled.
She instinctively tried to shield Luo Jiutian—

But he pulled her into his arms instead.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

Luo Jiutian’s qi surged violently.
Burning his very lifeblood, he unleashed a final burst of strength.

His aura soared, his robes snapping in the wind of his own power.
Clutching Su Wan’er tight, he dashed forward.

Every falling rock, every crumbling stone, was cleaved by his blade.
The strain tore his body apart, blood spilling from his lips.

Su Wan’er clung to his chest, trembling at the unsteady rhythm of his breath.

At last, a ray of light pierced the tunnel’s end.
With a final surge, Luo Jiutian leapt, ducked beneath the last fallen boulder, and broke through.

Fresh air rushed against their faces.
The chirp of insects, the scent of wild grass—

Behind them, the stone gate collapsed with a deafening crash, sealing the ruin forever.
The phantom did not pursue.

Luo Jiutian stumbled forward a few steps, then lowered Su Wan’er gently to the ground.
His knees buckled.
He fell beside her, utterly spent.

“Jiutian-ge? Jiutian-ge!”

Su Wan’er’s voice broke with panic as she shook him.
No response.
His breath was shallow, his eyes half-closed.

Tears spilled freely.
“It’s all my fault… If not for me, you wouldn’t be hurt like this… I shouldn’t have been so stubborn…”

Her apologies tumbled out, each tear soaking his bloodstained robes.

“Jiutian-ge, please… don’t leave me…”

“…Who said I was dying?”

His hoarse voice broke the silence, laced with helplessness.

Su Wan’er froze, then let out a wet laugh, crying harder still.
“You didn’t answer me—I thought you really…”

With effort, Luo Jiutian lifted a hand, his thumb brushing away her tears.

“Enough. Crying like this doesn’t suit you.”

She pouted.
“You scared me.”

“I scared you? Your wailing nearly deafened me.”

Ignoring his dry retort, Su Wan’er gently adjusted his torn robes.
Her voice softened.

“Next time, if you dare risk yourself like that again, I won’t forgive you.”

Luo Jiutian looked at her flushed, tear-streaked face and could only shake his head.

Truthfully—his desperate stand earlier had been partly calculated.
He had hoped to use the “suspension bridge effect,” to force a surge in her affection value.

But when the phantom’s blow actually struck him, he realized—
He had gone too far.

That thing was no fading remnant, but a true force that nearly ended him.
Even now, the searing pain in his chest lingered.

But at least, they were alive.

Outside, night fell over the mountains.
The wind carried mingled scents of blood and grass.

Leaning against a tree, Luo Jiutian watched as Su Wan’er carefully wrapped his wounds.
Her touch was feather-light, her eyes darting to him with every turn of the bandage, afraid she might hurt him.

“Jiutian-ge…” she whispered at last.
“Don’t ever do something that foolish for me again… please?”

He chuckled faintly, ruffling her hair.

She didn’t flinch, only gazed at him steadily.

“All right. I won’t.”

He wanted to pull her into his arms, but covered in blood, he settled for squeezing her hand.
She squeezed back, a shy yet tender reply.

Looking at her, Luo Jiutian felt a ripple stir in his chest.
He knew.

He knew this was all just a simulation.
That her every word, every gesture, could well be scripted, no different from before.

And yet, for the first time, he wasn’t sure.

Reality struck soon enough.
When his gaze fell on the system interface, he could hardly believe it.

The number blazed before his eyes, more mocking than any taunt:

[ Target: Su Wan’er ]
[ Current Affection Value — ]
[ 90 ]

……