Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Deep Bond Between Siblings

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Sibling Affection

"Ah! What are you doing?" Wu Songran let out a piercing scream as Wu Hong suddenly caught her midair, halting her fall.

Wu Songran gave a bitter smile. "Ran, we’re almost at the ground," Wu Hong said as the fierce wind roared past her ears. Looking down, she saw how high they still were and the color drained from her face in terror.

Before Wu Hong arrived, she had already harbored the intention to die. But when he appeared, a sliver of hope for survival rekindled within her as she plummeted through the air.

"What’s Wu Hong doing? Could it be… he wants to use me as a shield to save himself? How despicable, how cowardly!"

"Let go of me!" Songran struggled anxiously, her delicate body twisting in Wu Hong’s grasp.

But with Wu Hong’s strength, her struggles were futile.

"Ran, since you despise me so much, I can only be the villain this once. After you’re gone, I’ll investigate and find out who really killed our father. You can rest easy then." Wu Hong smiled as he spoke, showing no regard for the danger threatening his life.

Wu Songran, hearing his words, grew even more terrified, unable to utter a single word.

They were now only a few thousand meters from the forest floor; in the blink of an eye they would reach it.

Suddenly, Wu Hong twisted midair, turning their bodies so that he was underneath, shielding Songran above.

"You—" she gasped, unable to finish her thought. What was he doing? Was he really going to use his body as a cushion, dying in her stead?

Wu Hong smiled gently. "Ran, once I’m gone, remember to clear my name and uncover the truth. Only then can I die in peace."

"Crack, crack—" With Wu Hong beneath her, they crashed into a giant tree trunk, thick enough that two or three people would need to join hands to circle it. The impact broke the trunk, but their fall continued, smashing through more branches in a series of deafening snaps, until with a final crash, Wu Hong hit the ground.

A spurt of blood burst from his lips, splattering across Songran’s shoulder, and then he lost consciousness.

Though Wu Songran had Wu Hong as a shield, their fall was from such a terrifying height that the shock reverberated through his body, injuring her organs as well. She too fainted.

Wu Hong’s body, even after smashing through layer upon layer of branches, landed like a boulder, cracking the earth of the forest floor—such was the terrifying force of their descent.

This was a primeval forest, with trees so thick it would take more than a dozen people holding hands to encircle them. Their clothes, torn by branches, barely covered their bodies.

In this miniature world, there was no night; it was impossible to tell how much time passed before Wu Songran slowly opened her eyes, her consciousness returning.

She found herself still lying atop Wu Hong, her limbs numb and powerless.

Her beautiful eyes gazed at Wu Hong’s face beneath her, her heart a maelstrom of tangled emotions.

Was this the arrogant brother who once lorded over the Prince of Wu’s estate? Was this the prodigal son accused of patricide and flight?

Why did he save me? Did his conscience finally awaken, regretting what he had done to his own sister? Or… was he truly innocent, framed for their father’s murder? Then who was the real killer?

Her eyelids grew heavy again. She gave a bitter smile. In the end, was she destined to die together with this wretched brother? Then darkness claimed her once more.

What she did not know was that, not long after Wu Hong’s body struck the ground, the Great Sun Tathagata's True Scripture at his chest flew up above him, radiating golden light that bathed his body.

It began to heal his grievously wounded form.

This scripture was invisible and intangible to others, like air itself.

The golden rays repaired Wu Hong’s body inch by inch. His bones, shattered in the fall, slowly knit together with audible creaks; his damaged organs gradually mended as well.

Strangely, though the forest teemed with monsters, not a single one dared approach with the invisible scripture hovering above the siblings.

After an unknown length of time, the golden light faded, and Wu Hong’s body was completely restored.

With a sudden motion, Wu Hong opened his eyes, two golden beams shooting skyward before slowly fading away.

Lying on the ground, he flexed his limbs and found himself fully healed, his strength returned, perhaps even having reached the Bone-Refining Realm.

He did not understand what had happened, but as he moved gently, he realized that Wu Songran still lay atop him.

Under normal circumstances, even with Wu Hong cushioning the fall, Songran would not have survived such a height.

Hundreds of meters up, giant trees shattered by the impact, and yet the ground itself was smashed—such was the force involved.

While the Great Sun Tathagata's True Scripture restored Wu Hong’s body, the two had remained pressed closely together. Though the scripture focused on Wu Hong, some of the vital energy and restorative qi from his body naturally flowed into Songran, preserving her life.

“Ran, wake up!” Wu Hong reached out a trembling finger to check her breath, finding it faint and erratic, her life hanging by a thread.

Hearing his call, Songran’s beautiful eyes fluttered open weakly. “Brother, I was wrong... I know now you’re not our father’s killer. Can you forgive me? Am I dead? Where are we?” Her mind, still muddled, voiced her deepest doubts.

"Ran, don't worry. I won't let you die," Wu Hong said softly. The bond between the siblings had never been particularly deep; as children, they had been almost adversarial, but Songran had always been bold and forthright, someone he had respected.

Now, with her life in peril, how could Wu Hong let her die alone in this strange world?

Seeing her on the verge of collapse, he quickly helped her sit upright, ignoring her tattered clothing.

With a soft clap, he pressed his palms to her back and shoulders, sending his internal energy slowly into her.

Martial qi was a wondrous thing: when injected violently into an opponent, it could wreak havoc; but when channeled gently, it could work miracles, restoring health and helping the blood circulate.

Wu Hong had no idea how long he continued transmitting his qi.

Suddenly, Songran coughed up a mouthful of dark blood and collapsed.

Rather than worry, Wu Hong was relieved. This was a sign of improvement; with the blood expelled, her life was likely out of immediate danger.

He gently lifted her onto his back and, careful not to jostle her, began to explore the misty, violet-hued forest, moving slowly for fear she could not withstand the journey.

Songran’s eyes flickered open, watching her brother carry her. Her heart was awash with unfamiliar feelings.

Do I still hate him? Why is it that I find myself unable to hate him now? But… that night…

Back at the desert inn, after Songran had been drugged, Wang Liang had awoken first, stripped her completely, but being a eunuch, had failed to violate her. He then blamed everything on Wu Hong.

Wu Hong knew nothing of these secrets, and as a woman, Songran could not bring herself to tell him.

Thus, regardless of whether Wu Hong was truly their father’s killer, she had wanted him dead.

In the Great Qian Dynasty, marriage was highly free; as long as it was not between parent and child or full siblings, marriages between half-siblings were not uncommon, though most people frowned upon them.

But while marriage was free, the women of the dynasty were extremely conservative. If a girl’s body was seen, even if nothing truly happened, her prospects for marriage would be all but ruined.