Blossoming Path-Chapter 191: When Water Overflows

I woke up to the scent of medicinal herbs.

My body ached. A deep, marrow-deep kind of ache, like every muscle, every bone, had been wrung dry and left to mend itself with whatever scraps remained. My right arm was immobilized in a sling, my torso wrapped tightly in layers of bandages. The linen pressed against my ribs with each breath, reminding me that I was still in one piece.

Barely.

The ceiling above me was familiar—wooden beams, polished and sturdy, faintly illuminated by the light filtering through the window. The Soaring Swallow. A private room.

I was safe.

For a long moment, I just lay there, eyes unfocused, my mind struggling to make sense of the time between then and now.

My body shifted slightly, and a sharp pull of pain snapped me fully into wakefulness. I hissed through my teeth, turning my head slightly to assess my injuries.

Nobody was in the room with me.

Slowly, the missing pieces began slotting back into place.

Windy had been the one to go back to the village.

I barely remembered giving the order. Everything had been fading into a haze of pain and exhaustion, my body screaming for rest. But Windy had understood. He had slithered away, his small form cutting through the snow-covered ground, moving faster than anyone else could have.

We needed help.

We needed someone to bring the injured back before the cold finished what the battle had started.

But before Windy had returned, before I had collapsed—

Jian Feng had been the one to reach me first.

I could still feel the way his hand had gripped my jaw, forcing me to stay awake, his voice sharp with something between frustration and urgency.

'Don’t pass out yet.'

He had pressed a vial to my lips, the taste of qi-restoring medicine burning down my throat, forcing clarity into my sluggish mind.

And then Tianyi had been there, too.

She had been pale, her breath unsteady, but she had placed her hands over my worst wounds, her remaining qi seeping into my body. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough.

Enough to keep me awake. Enough to keep me moving.

Because the others still needed help.

The injured disciples had been scattered across the battlefield, some shivering from blood loss, others on the edge of unconsciousness. The cold was relentless, leeching the warmth from their bodies, threatening to finish what the battle hadn’t.

With Jian Feng, Tianyi, and the few able-bodied disciples to help, I had stumbled from one to another, working as quickly as my broken body allowed. We raided their satchels, their robes, pulling out medicine that they had carried but were too weak to use themselves.

Bandages. Pills. Coagulants.

I had even treated the converts.

Three of them had survived. Their bodies had been broken, battered by the fight, but they were still breathing. I had nearly hesitated before treating them, but the words had already been burned into my mind.

'They're victims.'

I had forced my shaking hands to move. Applied pressure to wounds. Poured Essence Purifying Elixir onto their injuries, watching the corruption sizzle and fade.

And Tianyi.

I had knelt beside her as she slumped to the ground, her left wing trembling, black veins creeping through the delicate membrane.

I had used the last of my Essence Purifying Elixir on her.

The elixir had hissed upon contact, eating away at the corruption like fire to parchment.

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I didn’t know how much I had saved.

But I had tried.

And then—

Then I had seen them.

A blur of figures cutting through the snow. A familiar voice calling my name.

Elder Ming.

Wang Jun.

Villagers, rushing forward with stretchers, blankets, carrying supplies. Their faces had been twisted with alarm, their breath visible in the cold as they sprinted across the battlefield.

Windy had returned.

Help had come.

And the moment I saw them, the moment I knew that everyone would be okay—

I collapsed.

I pushed myself upright, gritting my teeth as a dull ache rippled through my body. My right arm, bound tight in the sling, throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. My legs felt stiff, leaden from disuse, but they held my weight as I swung them over the side of the bed.

It was only when I stood that I realized how much my body resisted movement. Every joint felt slow, every breath just a little too sharp, a little too ragged. It wasn't just from the Black Tortoise Tribulation either.

My arms stung, the bruises and bandages pulling at raw skin.

I shuffled toward the door, my fingers brushing against the wooden frame as I steadied myself. The Soaring Swallow’s halls were quiet as I stepped out, the inn’s usual warmth muted in the early morning light.

The scent of porridge and boiled herbs wafted from below, mingling with the soft murmur of voices. I followed it, moving carefully down the stairs, my good hand trailing along the railing for support.

As I reached the dining area, the first thing I saw was Lan-Yin.

She sat at a table near the hearth, a small bowl of sugar water in front of her, a spoon in one hand. Across from her, Tianyi sipped slowly, wings partially unfurled as if to stretch them out. Windy coiled lazily beside her, his long body draped over the back of the chair, chewing on what looked like a piece of roasted meat.

The moment Lan-Yin spotted me, she jolted upright, nearly knocking over the bowl.

“Kai?” Her voice was loud enough that a few heads turned from other tables. “You’re awake?!”

I exhaled through my nose, dragging a chair out before easing myself into it. “Seems like it.”

Lan-Yin’s eyes darted over me, scanning my injuries, as if she half-expected me to collapse again. She didn’t say it, but I could hear the unspoken question in her expression: Are you really alright?

Instead of answering that, I asked, “What happened to the others?”

She hesitated for only a moment before answering. “They’re recovering. The Verdant Lotus disciples had a rough time, but none of them are in critical condition anymore.” She paused, then added, “Jian Feng’s already started patrolling again.”

“And the converts?” I asked.

Lan-Yin’s lips pressed together. “They’re secured,” she said carefully. “Jian Feng had the help of Wang Jun to secure them in their courtyard. Not sure what's happened since.”

I glanced at Tianyi. She had been quiet the entire time, sipping at her sugar water.

Lan-Yin sighed. “You’ve been out for two days, Kai. We weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”

Two days. That explained why my body felt so stiff.

But the real question was—

“No casualties?” I asked.

She shook her head. “None.”

The breath I let out felt heavier than I expected. The relief should have hit me harder, should have unraveled something inside me, but it didn’t. It sat there, lodged in my chest, like a knot I didn’t know how to untangle.

I nodded. “Good.”

It was nothing short of a miracle.

I turned to Tianyi, my gaze flicking to her wing, the one I had poured the last of my elixir onto.

“How’s your wing?” I asked.

She shifted slightly at the question. Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, she unfolded it.

The damage was still visible, the edges frayed and uneven, but… it was healing. The torn membrane had begun to regrow, thin and translucent, like fresh silk spun in the sunlight.

“It will be slow,” Tianyi said, her voice even. “My wings do not heal the same way the rest of my body does.”

I exhaled, nodding. It wasn’t fully healed, but it wasn’t lost, either.

My shoulders sagged in relief, and I bent down to pet Windy.

“I’m going to step outside for a bit,” I said. “Get some fresh air.”

Lan-Yin frowned. “You just woke up. You need more time to rest.”

I flashed a lopsided smile—though even to me, it felt hollow at the edges. “I’m more than fine.”

She didn’t look convinced. Windy’s head lifted slightly from where he was coiled, his blue eyes blinking at me lazily, but he said nothing.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the stiffness in my limbs. My body protested, but I forced it to move, heading for the door.

The moment I stepped outside, the cold air bit into my skin.

The village was already awake. People moved through the streets, going about their day with a quiet sense of normalcy. It was strange, how the world could just continue as if nothing had happened.

But the moment I took a step forward, I heard it.

A murmur. A ripple through the crowd.

Heads turned. Eyes widened. And within seconds, the quiet hum of the morning turned into something much louder.

A group of villagers rushed toward me.

“Kai!”

“Are you alright?”

“Should you even be walking right now?”

Their voices overlapped, a blur of noise, but my mind barely processed it. Their faces were familiar, their concern genuine, but I felt… detached. Like I was watching this from somewhere far away. I nodded along, answering their questions automatically, my words feeling distant even to myself.

I barely had time to register the voices before another figure shoved his way through the crowd.

Wang Jun.

His sleeves were still rolled up, soot smeared across his arms and face. He must have sprinted straight from the forge the moment he heard the commotion.

The moment his eyes landed on me, his face twisted into something between relief and sheer exasperation.

“You crazy bastard,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Of all the things, you really had to dive straight into a death battle with demonic cultivators?”

I knew I was supposed to laugh.

The words were lighthearted, meant to be a scolding, but I couldn’t bring myself to react the way I normally would.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my head. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“One that almost got you killed.”

I didn’t argue. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.

But before he could keep going, I turned toward the gathered villagers—the people I had grown up with, and the newer faces that had only recently found refuge in our village. Some of them looked at me like I had just climbed back from the underworld. Others, with quiet reverence. It was... odd, to say the least.

“I appreciate the concern,” I said, forcing a small smile. “But I’d like some time to myself.”

They hesitated.

Then, slowly, they nodded.

Respecting my wishes, they dispersed, though not without lingering glances thrown my way. freёweɓnovel.com

I turned and continued forward.

My destination was already set, and my steps led me to a familiar set of wooden door.

It creaked slightly as I pushed it open, revealing the familiar warmth of the space inside.

Elder Ming sat at his table, his back straight, a teapot resting beside him. Across from him was Ren Zhi.

They looked up as I entered.

I bowed my head slightly. “Elder Ming. Elder Zhi.”

Elder Ming’s eyes scanned me, his gaze unreadable.

I forced a weak chuckle. “Sorry for missing morning training. I figured I could take a break for two days.”

Before I could straighten, I felt something—a light tap against my head.

Startled, I looked up.

Elder Ming’s hand hovered in the air where he had just chopped at me.

“You stupid student,” he muttered.

His voice was quiet.

But there was a slight tremble to it.

I stared.

Then, slowly, I noticed it.

The slight redness at the corners of his eyes.

A lump formed in my throat.

Something inside me—something tightly wound, held together by sheer force of will—started to fray.

I swallowed, lowering my head.

“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It hurt. I—I didn’t know if we were going to make it.”

“You should be scared,” Elder Ming muttered, voice rougher than usual.

“Because I was. I thought you were going to die.”

And just like that, I broke.

The exhaustion, the fear, the overwhelming relief... it all finally caught up to me.

My shoulders shook.

Tears welled at the edges of my vision, blurring the familiar warmth of the room.

Elder Ming didn’t say anything.

He just sighed softly. Then, with the same weathered hands that had guided me since I was a child, he reached forward and placed a steady hand on my head.

And for the first time since waking up, I let myself feel it.