Chapter Forty-five: The Mysterious Blue Moon Lake

Ji Mo glanced back and saw that the torrent below had not continued to surge upward. She breathed a silent sigh of relief: that was close! Then, darkness claimed her vision, and her body went limp. Mu Baiyun, whose hand was still at her waist, was startled. He swiftly supported her, one hand at her waist, the other at her shoulder, catching her fainting form. Bowing his head, he gazed at her, only to find her eyes tightly shut, her face pale as paper.

Suddenly, warmth seeped from his hand—a liquid. He looked closely, and what he saw shocked him even more. His hands, pressed against Ji Mo’s waist, were stained with blood. Her lotus-colored robe was soaked crimson, and her exposed hands were riddled with fine cracks, from which blood continuously seeped. The urgency of the previous moment had left everyone oblivious to Ji Mo’s condition.

Mu Baiyun saw this, and naturally, Wei Qiu and Zhao Hu saw it as well. Zhao Hu, upon seeing Ji Mo’s blood-soaked figure, felt his mind buzz. He darted to Mu Baiyun’s side, trembling as he reached out to check Ji Mo’s breath. Finding it still steady, his frantic mind regained a measure of clarity. He took several deep breaths, then stretched out his hand to Mu Baiyun and said, “Give her to me.”

For reasons unknown, Zhao Hu felt an uncomfortable sensation seeing Ji Mo cradled in Mu Baiyun’s arms. He instinctively sought a justification: Ji Mo is my sister; she’s injured, so it’s only right that I, her brother, care for her.

Ji Mo had introduced Zhao Hu’s identity to Mu Baiyun. Given that Zhao Hu was her brother, it was indeed reasonable to entrust her to him. With that in mind, Mu Baiyun silently handed Ji Mo over.

Zhao Hu took Ji Mo, looking down at her blood-stained robe and deathly pale face, his heart full of guilt and fury. He was furious at his own helplessness; ever since meeting Ji Mo in the trial zone, every time trouble arose, not only was he unable to help her, he became a burden.

He had felt such frustration before, when Ji Mo fought the Mighty Bear, though it had not been so intense. Now, as Ji Mo lay before him, drenched in blood and unconscious, his anger and guilt surged to a fever pitch, making this honest young man feel on the verge of madness.

“Brother Mu, should we give Sister Ji some healing medicine first?” Wei Qiu, staring dazedly from Mu Baiyun to Ji Mo and Zhao Hu, couldn’t help but speak up quietly.

“I’ll check first. This seems to be a side effect of burning her life force to activate some secret technique. Ordinary healing medicine may not help.” Mu Baiyun’s gaze at Ji Mo was full of complexity. He approached her and reached for her pulse.

“Hmm?” Mu Baiyun uttered a surprised sound.

“What’s wrong?” Wei Qiu looked nervously at Mu Baiyun, and even Zhao Hu, deep in self-reproach, was drawn back to attention.

“It’s nothing. Sister Ji’s condition is much better than we imagined. Though she’s unconscious, her body is rapidly healing itself. Look at her hand.” Mu Baiyun lifted Ji Mo’s palm, and Zhao Hu and Wei Qiu saw the network of cracks slowly closing at a pace visible to the naked eye, and the blood oozing out was steadily diminishing.

“Brother Mu, do we still need to return to the sect immediately?” Wei Qiu remained stunned for a long while, then asked again. Seeing Ji Mo so gravely wounded, they had instinctively decided to bring her back to the sect first.

“Let’s wait. Judging by Sister Ji’s condition, she should awaken soon. We’ll consult her before deciding.” Mu Baiyun thought for a moment before answering.

“No, there’s no need. I’m fine—just let me rest a bit.” No sooner had Mu Baiyun finished speaking than Ji Mo slowly opened her eyes, weakly interjecting. So soon? Wei Qiu and Mu Baiyun were taken aback and looked at Ji Mo together.

“Brother Zhao Hu, don’t worry. I’m all right,” Ji Mo said gently, seeing Zhao Hu holding her like a lifeless doll.

“Little Mo, you—you’re awake?” Zhao Hu exclaimed in joy.

“Yes, I’m awake. Brother Zhao Hu, the cultivation method I practice is rather peculiar. Though I look frightening now, it’s nothing serious. I’ll recover soon, so don’t worry.” Ji Mo comforted him softly.

That eruption moments ago had severely depleted her energy, but it also allowed her Demonic Body Refining Technique to break through once more. Now, Ji Mo was considered a second-tier physical cultivator, and her formidable recovery would soon heal her bloodied wounds. This was both the strength and flaw of cultivating the Demonic Body Refining Technique: rapid advancement required the willingness to burn and exhaust one’s life force.

“I’m not worried—just don’t talk, rest well.” Zhao Hu, seeing her frail state, couldn’t bear for her to speak more and urged her to rest.

Ji Mo smiled, closed her eyes, and Mu Baiyun and Wei Qiu sat to Zhao Hu’s left and right, standing guard for Ji Mo.

The night passed swiftly. By dawn, when the morning sunlight rose, Ji Mo’s wounds had fully healed. She leapt up from the ground, and the three who had watched over her spoke in unison, “You’re better?”

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s so quiet here—I thought Blue Moon Lake’s tidal surge would drive countless beasts and cultivators to flee, and we’d have no peace either,” Ji Mo replied, stretching lazily.

As she spoke, she suddenly felt uncomfortable. Looking down, she saw her clothes covered in a thick, dark red crust. She frowned. “I’ll be back in a bit.” Without waiting for a reply, she darted off toward a nearby cave.

After a while, Ji Mo emerged wearing fresh white robes. Zhao Hu, Mu Baiyun, and Wei Qiu were startled. Ji Mo usually paid little attention to her attire, favoring muted tones that dulled her natural radiance. Now, in pure white, though still young and somewhat childish in appearance, she was beautiful as a sprite, dazzling to behold.

“What are you staring at? Don’t recognize me anymore?” Ji Mo marched up to them, glaring in bewilderment.

“It’s just… I never imagined Sister Ji would look so well in white,” Mu Baiyun replied, averting his gaze awkwardly.

Ji Mo paused, but didn’t dwell on it. Her gaze turned to the vast waters below the peak. “Brother Mu, if I remember correctly, Blue Moon Lake only has a tidal surge once every hundred years. It hasn’t been a century since the last one, has it?”

“No, according to sect records, the last surge was ninety-three years ago. That’s why, since it wasn’t time yet, the sect gave no special warnings. The sudden surge this time has surely claimed many disciples in the trial grounds,” Mu Baiyun explained.

“Does everyone swept away by the tide perish?” Ji Mo asked. Normally, cultivators, even mere Qi practitioners, shouldn’t be taken by ordinary floods. Yet Blue Moon Lake was shrouded in mystery—its waters, perennially veiled in mist, seemed to possess lethal power.

“Yes. These waters are like the legendary Celestial Drowning Waters: not even a feather will float, no bird can cross, and only the dragon clan can survive within. Nothing else lives in it,” Mu Baiyun said.

Like the Celestial Drowning Waters? What is the origin of Blue Moon Lake? Ji Mo wondered, but she doubted Mu Baiyun could answer, so she set the question aside and asked, “How long will the tide last?”

Though she had been in the Moonwatching Sect for six years, over five of those had been spent in secluded cultivation, leaving her little time to learn the sect’s lore. Aside from a brief introduction to Blue Moon Lake by Lei Wei during this trial, she knew little about the specifics of the trial grounds.

“Seven days. After seven days, the tide will recede. Blue Moon Lake’s surge happens every century, supposedly to reclaim the spiritual energy that overflows from within. Once the tide recedes, the spiritual energy around the lake becomes no different from the rest of the trial grounds. Then, it gradually accumulates again, until it grows dense enough for another tidal surge. When the tide recedes, it leaves behind many rare treasures,” Mu Baiyun said.