Chapter 59: Witness My Divine Draw!

When she returned to the inn, Xia Ningshang executed a practiced backflip, intending to slip back into her own room. Suddenly, she caught sight of a lone woman sitting forlornly in the small courtyard.

A thought flickered in her mind, and she landed softly in the yard.

Shi Ya’s vacant eyes shifted, already turning in Xia’s direction, and she gazed into the void, her voice gentle:

“Sister Xia, you’re still awake?”

“I can’t sleep. How did you know it was me?” Xia replied.

A faint smile touched Shi Ya’s lips. “After I lost my sight, my hearing sharpened. I could tell it was you from your footsteps.”

Xia Ningshang sat across from her, gazing at Shi Ya’s serene face, her own eyes softening as she asked, “Do you resent me?”

“How could I?” Shi Ya shook her head with a smile that blossomed gently across her face. “If you hadn’t given me the demon blade, I’d have died in the wilderness long ago. I wouldn’t have been able to avenge my family.”

“But that Qian Wu…” Xia Ningshang hesitated, as if wanting to say more.

Shi Ya was already shaking her head, her smile tinged with sorrow. “Sister Xia, you don’t need to feel guilty. If I hadn’t sought vengeance, how would I have met him? Our fate was fleeting—destined, and no one’s to blame.”

There was a trace of melancholy in her voice, yet it was as if she had long since come to terms with everything. She whispered, “I believe he feels the same. Don’t be fooled by how dense he seems; he knows his own heart well enough.”

“I only hope that after I’m gone, he can move on soon. He has good brothers by his side, so he won’t be lonely.”

Xia Ningshang sighed inwardly. “You’re remarkably composed.”

“I’ve long known my sins are grave and my death inevitable, so I accepted it early on.” Shi Ya’s smile was pure, almost beautiful in its simplicity.

Xia Ningshang lowered her gaze. “Thank you for lying for me today.”

“You’ve done me a great kindness; it was the least I could do.” Shi Ya hesitated for a moment before continuing softly, “I don’t know what you’re planning, Sister, but… They’re all good people, Young Master Ji included.”

Xia Ningshang said nothing, her eyes downcast. After a pause, she rose. “It’s late. You should rest.”

“All right.”

The next day, the group hired a carriage and a driver, setting off toward Purple Lightning Peak at a leisurely pace, as if on an outing.

For reasons unknown, all four of them wore dark circles under their eyes.

Ji Huo was the most energetic of the lot—he’d slipped out for a bit at midnight, and upon returning, immediately fell asleep. His dark circles were faint.

Shi Ya had sat in the courtyard for a long while before returning to her room, so hers were more pronounced.

As for Qian Wu, the boy had tossed and turned all night, thoughts running wild until he finally drifted off in a daze; his dark circles were the deepest.

“What were you doing last night?” Ji Huo squinted at Xia Ningshang.

Her dark circles were the worst. Already pale from her injuries, she now looked even more bloodless, and with those deep shadows beneath her eyes, she resembled a panda.

“Nothing!” Xia Ningshang glared at Ji Huo, her tone tinged with grievance.

Why look at me? It’s not like I gave you those dark circles… Ji Huo felt utterly baffled and unfairly accused.

In truth, Xia Ningshang had returned to her room much earlier than Shi Ya. She’d intended to meditate and restrain her injuries, but as soon as her hand brushed the book hidden in her sleeve—“The Tyrant Master Falls for Me”—she couldn’t resist reading a few pages.

By the time she came to her senses, dawn had already broken…

She’d spent the whole night without meditating to suppress her wounds, and on top of staying up so late, she was now exhausted and achy. The sword energy in her veins tormented her constantly—it was an utterly miserable state.

Xia Ningshang ignored him, closed her eyes, and rested against the carriage wall, hoping to nap for a while.

Honestly, what she wanted most was to keep reading her book, but she could already imagine the looks she’d get from the others if she took it out.

A truly mortifying scene.

Especially if she did it in front of Ji Huo—now that would be unbearably awkward. He’d never admit the book was his and would probably mock her for reading such a scandalous, forbidden tale.

Despicable!

Even reading the words made her whole body flush with embarrassment, and last night she’d rolled about in bed at the most exciting parts.

What in the world was going through that dummy’s head?

It was mortifying!

Ji Huo, meanwhile, was full of questions. He didn’t know what had happened, but he could sense the waves of resentment occasionally radiating from the girl beside him.

What did this have to do with him?

The journey to Purple Lightning Peak was long and the carriage jostled ceaselessly, the only sounds the driver’s shouts as he urged the horses on.

Perhaps because none of them had slept well, everyone inside the carriage closed their eyes, drowsing in silence.

Ji Huo’s eyes grew heavy, and suddenly he felt a weight on his shoulder. The familiar delicate scent drifted to his nose.

He opened his eyes and looked to the side. Xia Ningshang, eyes closed, had rested her head on his shoulder, her small mouth slightly parted, her exquisite nose breathing softly and slowly.

Her hair was a little messy, clear evidence of a restless night.

Ji Huo watched her for a few seconds, wanting to move away, but there was nowhere to retreat—the carriage was cramped, and he was already in the corner.

So he closed his eyes too, pretending not to notice, and decided to try to sleep again.

But sleep eluded him.

No matter what, he couldn’t fall asleep now—his heart thudded wildly in his chest.

Damn it!

Was this enchantress trying to tempt him?

Since he couldn’t sleep, he might as well try his luck at the lottery!

After all, the daily draw had just reset!

Ji Huo closed his eyes, letting his consciousness sink into his mind and called out:

“I want to draw a prize!”

In the void, a giant spinning wheel formed quickly. “Absolutely fair! A hundred percent chance to win!” the bold characters proclaimed.

The wheel spun rapidly, turning far longer than usual, even stuttering now and then as if its gears had gone unlubricated for years, sparks flaring with each snag.

“What the hell?” Ji Huo muttered in shock.

In sixteen years, he’d never seen the lottery system behave like this. Was it in need of maintenance?

Just as he was wondering, the pointer jerked suddenly and landed on an exceedingly tiny segment of the wheel.

Instantly, blinding golden light burst from the wheel!

Wow! A golden legend!

[Congratulations, you’ve won: Treasure Map (Gold) (Unique)!]

[Item: Treasure Map (Gold) (Unique)]

[Description: Every treasure map is one of a kind!]

[Note: Want my treasure? Want to become a legend? Go! I’ve left it there! In that one and only place!]

“What is this nonsense?” Ji Huo stared wide-eyed; he’d never seen anything like it.

He’d drawn strange items before—Little Red Sugar’s red paper umbrella, for instance, had come with information and a description just like this.

But since when could you draw a treasure map?

This system was getting less and less mystical.

The treasure map itself was drawn on ancient silk, its age apparent; it certainly looked authentic.

Ji Huo unfolded the map in his mind, and was instantly dumbfounded.

The treasure map looked like someone’s random doodle, inked hastily to depict a hill with an X marked at the summit.

Next to it were some scrawled instructions:

[Arrive at the summit of Daxing Mountain before noon on the sixth day of the seventh month.]