Chapter 9: First Encounter with the Sword Cultivator, Ling Ru

Ling Ru dragged her heavy legs forward, struggling to continue. Her throat was so parched she couldn’t utter a word. Even just breathing, she could feel the grit from the desert scraping through her lungs, catching painfully in her throat. Her chapped lips were stuck together with dried blood, and the slightest motion made fresh blood seep out.

Two days ago, when she realized she had indeed made it out of the Mirage Desert, Ling Ru had been overjoyed, thinking she had finally glimpsed hope of survival. But now, two days later—today was the third day—her earlier elation had drained away, replaced by a crushing sense of despair. If ever there was a phrase to capture her state, “her heart like dead ashes” would suffice.

If she didn’t find water soon, she really would die here. If there were such a thing as a pill of regret in this world, Ling Ru would never have let her past self storm out of her home in a fit of temper.

Ling Ru gripped the longsword she’d been using as a walking stick, but no words could describe her feelings now. She, who once stood at the threshold of a brilliant future, had ruined it by her own hand.

She raised her head and looked ahead, with no hope left. She could hardly hold on any longer.

Wait! There—someone ahead!

Her legs faltered, and she nearly collapsed to her knees.

Rubbing her dry, blurry eyes with the back of her hand, Ling Ru looked again. Yes, there really was a person in her line of sight. Though the figure was small, it didn’t matter. Anyone was better than dying alone here, her passing unknown to the world.

With a surge of desperate strength, she swung her sword onto her back and, as if new energy had flooded her body, broke into a run toward that little figure.

Ji Yao watched from the right. The person who had seemed about to collapse just moments ago, upon seeing her, suddenly sprang to life, brandishing what looked like a longsword, and came rushing toward her in a wild dash.

Though the run was unsteady, Ji Yao was sure the stranger was headed straight for her.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she really just wanted to turn and flee. Wasn’t this too terrifying? Only a fool would stay put!

Just as she was about to turn away, at the very instant her body shifted to the side, she saw the other person catch her foot on a protruding stone. There was a loud thud as dust flew everywhere, and the stranger sprawled face down on the ground five meters ahead of her.

Ji Yao’s jaw nearly dropped in shock. What a spectacular fall! It looked painful just to watch—especially that foot that had kicked the stone. Wouldn’t the toes be broken?

Wouldn’t he feel embarrassed? Ji Yao felt embarrassed for him. But as the saying goes, if you don’t feel embarrassed, no one else can embarrass you.

Ji Yao didn’t know why her mind wandered to such thoughts at a time like this. Shouldn’t she be using the opportunity while the stranger was stunned to run away? Or maybe she should charge over and knock the person out more thoroughly?

Perhaps it was because of the look the stranger gave her just before collapsing. Though Ji Yao couldn’t read the meaning in that glance, she clearly saw the shape of the other’s lips: water.

Though no sound came out, Ji Yao was certain the word was water, not who. Hadn’t she seen blood gush from the other’s lips as the word was formed? This person had clearly been parched for a long time.

Don’t think cultivators can’t die of thirst. In truth, their spells all rely on spiritual energy from heaven and earth. When you can no longer sustain yourself with that energy, food and drink become essential. Even a simple water-ball technique drains your own reserves.

Normally, Ji Yao would never meddle in others’ affairs. But now she was curious: what kind of person could drive themselves to such a state? Judging by the other’s clothing and weapon, this was not some ordinary wandering cultivator.

Ji Yao approached, made sure the stranger was truly unconscious, then dragged and half-carried her to rest in the shade of a nearby mound. She poured a little water from her flask and gently wiped the stranger’s lips.

When Ji Yao set out again, she was no longer alone. Now there was a girl in red by her side, radiant and full of life—completely different from the person she had first encountered.

“My name is Ling Ru—‘Ling’ as in soaring through the sky, ‘Ru’ as in wish come true. What’s your name?”

Her companion’s easy familiarity left Ji Yao speechless.

“How old are you? You look so young! I’m twelve, so you should call me elder sister.”

Where did all these elder sisters come from? This so-called older girl had just snatched the water flask Ji Yao had just filled.

It wasn’t about the water—it was the attitude! The attitude! After all, Ji Yao had just saved her life!

“You’re already at the fourth level of Qi Refinement at such a young age. Your family must be something. Letting you out here so early, and without an elder to accompany you—your family must be really carefree!”

You’re not that much older yourself, are you? Aren’t you out wandering around, too? Not long ago, someone was nearly invited for tea by the King of Hell. Ji Yao’s head ached from the chatter, and she couldn’t help but want to retort.

But the other girl had no self-awareness and kept on with her endless prattle. Ji Yao wondered why, having just recovered, she didn’t value her saliva a bit more.

Was it just the law of extremes—having gone too long without speaking, now she couldn’t stop? Ji Yao’s thoughts drifted, and she didn’t even catch what Ling Ru was saying.

Suddenly, a blazing sword light flashed before her eyes, startling Ji Yao into awareness. She realized that at some point, Ling Ru had drawn her sword.

At this moment, Ling Ru was utterly transformed. Her red robes fluttered as if stirred by a wind that wasn’t there, instantly lending her an aura of brilliance. She seemed like a sword freed from its sheath, all sharpness and ferocity.

At the time, Ji Yao didn’t understand that this was something called “sword intent.” Though Ling Ru had not yet fully cultivated it, it was already beginning to show.

Only now did Ji Yao truly see her companion for what she was—the budding form of a true sword cultivator.

Perhaps it was because Situ Jing’s cultivation was so profound, her aura withdrawn, and she had never made a move in Ji Yao’s presence, that Ji Yao had never before sensed the sharpness of a sword cultivator.

“Hey! What are you thinking about, so deeply lost in thought? You’re in for a treat tonight—I just caught a rabbit. Wait till you taste my cooking. I guarantee you’ll be amazed! Let me tell you, my skills in the kitchen…”

When Ji Yao returned to herself, Ling Ru had already sheathed her sword and was dangling a rabbit in front of her with a cheerful grin.

Ji Yao’s illusions shattered. So much for that lofty aura! The shift in demeanor was so abrupt she could hardly keep up.

Was she just a chatterbox all along? Ji Yao pressed her hand to her forehead.

No! Not just a chatterbox—more like a chatterbox and a foodie rolled into one!

Ji Yao watched the red-clad girl bustling happily before a delicate little stove, summoning all sorts of spices from her storage bracelet, expertly roasting the rabbit on an iron skewer until the aroma wafted through the air, fat sizzling and dripping.

Her stomach surrendered. She craved meat!

Perhaps it was the harsh northern region, so poor in resources. All the food Ji Yao had found along the way was heavy and plain, far from delicious.

Even when she cooked for herself, the lack of spices meant the flavor left much to be desired.

After eating their fill, the two leaned against the earthen mound and gazed up at the starry sky. This was Ji Yao’s first time camping in the wild since arriving in this world. Before, she’d always found a hidden spot and slipped into her private space. Now, that was no longer an option.

But having a companion her own age by her side felt wonderful. Ji Yao felt as if she was gradually merging into this small body, her heart growing lighter.

“Where are you headed?” Ling Ru’s voice broke the silence.

“Beian City.”

“You’re going to Beian City?” Ling Ru’s voice rose sharply, and she sat up straight.