Chapter Three: Ning Jiuyou Awakens
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At dawn, as the first rays of sunlight streamed into the room, Xiao Yan rose early and made his way to the backyard of the Xiao family residence. He sat cross-legged on the grass, circulating the cultivation method taught by Master Yao. The once chaotic Dou Qi within his body began to flow gradually under the guidance of this technique.
As the Dou Qi circulated, Xiao Yan felt the impurities that had accumulated from long stagnation being expelled like dirt. After quite some time, fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his complexion flushed slightly. “Hoo…” he exhaled a breath of turbid air and slowly opened his eyes, clenching his fists. He could feel his body had become significantly lighter and his Dou Qi purer, stirring a wave of joy within him.
“Thank you, Master. If it weren’t for you...”
“If you put it that way, then I should be the one thanking you for your years of support. No need for empty words; your diligent cultivation is the best reward for me.”
“Yes, Master. I understand!”
...
At night, Xiao Yan would go to Ning Jiuyou’s room and find her lying quietly on the bed, her face pale as paper, utterly colorless. Sitting beside her, he took a deep breath and extended his hands. Following Master Yao’s method, he carefully infused his Dou Qi into Ning Jiuyou’s body.
His Dou Qi flowed slowly through her meridians, gently wrapping and attempting to mend the broken channels. However, Ning Jiuyou’s meridians were too severely damaged, and Xiao Yan’s Dou Qi could only provide temporary relief.
While guiding the meridians, Xiao Yan’s gaze fell on Ning Jiuyou’s skin. On her fair skin, strange fiery patterns faintly appeared. These patterns fluctuated between black and their normal red hue, faintly visible on her arms.
A sudden shock struck Xiao Yan’s heart, and he felt a bit embarrassed to scrutinize the fiery markings on her arms. From these patterns, he sensed an unusual force—powerful and mysterious, unlike any Dou Qi he knew.
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Xiao Yan silently asked in his heart, “Master, what are these fiery patterns on her skin?”
Master Yao’s figure quietly appeared beside him. His gaze also fixed on the markings, his brows furrowing slightly. “These fiery patterns seem connected to a tremendously powerful bloodline. Though I cannot identify the specific bloodline immediately, one thing is certain: this girl’s identity is far from ordinary.”
Xiao Yan nodded secretly, his curiosity about Ning Jiuyou’s origins growing. Yet, his primary concern remained how to heal her injuries.
He withdrew his gaze and continued to channel Dou Qi into Ning Jiuyou’s body, hoping to repair her meridians quickly and wake her soon.
Time passed unnoticed as Xiao Yan repeated this routine daily—training by day, guiding Ning Jiuyou’s meridians by night.
On the seventh day of his persistent efforts, Ning Jiuyou’s tightly shut eyes twitched, then slowly opened, her gaze filled with confusion and bewilderment.
Upon waking, she instinctively tried to move but immediately frowned. Every inch of her body felt as if pierced by countless fine needles, with dull aches in every muscle and bone. Her internal strength was drained, leaving her utterly powerless.
She instinctively tried to circulate her source energy, but the lower abdomen was silent—no trace of energy stirring.
Ning Jiuyou was inwardly stunned: “What is happening?”
Struggling against the discomfort, she attempted to sit up.
At that moment, the door creaked open, and a young man carrying a bowl entered.
Xiao Yan walked in holding a steaming herbal soup. Seeing Ning Jiuyou awake—who had been pale and bedridden just days ago—his exhausted face instantly brightened with joy.
He stepped forward quickly, placing the soup on a nearby table. His voice brimmed with relief: “You’re finally awake. You’ve been unconscious for seven days!”
His gaze was filled with concern as he carefully observed her and asked, “Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”
Ning Jiuyou tilted her head silently, quietly studying the unfamiliar youth before her.
She thought to herself, “With how I feel, I should be in pain everywhere.”
Then, she softly replied in a weak voice, “My whole body hurts.”
“...”
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Xiao Yan hesitated for a moment.
Ning Jiuyou instinctively clenched her fists again, confirming the emptiness within her body, a nameless unease and sorrow swelling in her chest.
After a pause, she lifted her head and looked straight at Xiao Yan, asking, “Where is this place? Did you save me?”
Xiao Yan was slightly taken aback but quickly composed himself. He recounted, in detail, how he found her in the back mountain that day, and everything he had done to save her since—herbal baths, daily meridian guidance, and more.
As he spoke, his heart grew anxious. Secretly, he watched Ning Jiuyou’s expression, fearing that she might resent him for touching her body or even see him as an enemy.
Ning Jiuyou listened quietly, her face betraying little emotion.
When Xiao Yan finished, she gently closed her eyes, seemingly absorbing the information.
After a while, she reopened her eyes, rubbed her aching head, and slowly said, “All I remember is my name—Ning Jiuyou. Everything else... my mind is a mess. I can’t recall anything.”
Xiao Yan was briefly startled. Seeing her bewildered and helpless expression, a surge of pity filled his heart.
Ning Jiuyou looked at him, intending to express gratitude with a bow, but sitting on the bed made it inconvenient. Instead, she softly said, “Thank you for saving me.”
Xiao Yan quickly waved his hand, a simple, sincere smile lighting his face. “No need to thank me. When I saw you so badly injured, I couldn’t just stand by. You just woke up and are still weak. Rest well first, and don’t worry about anything else.”
With that, he picked up the herbal soup from the table, carefully blew on it, and offered it to Ning Jiuyou. “This is a medicinal broth I prepared. It will help your recovery. Drink it while it’s warm.”
Ning Jiuyou glanced at the soup in his hands, then looked up at Xiao Yan.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, accepted the soup, and took a sip...