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Ten hours passed quickly as Qing Xuanling focused on her recovery.
Although she knew she couldn't fully heal, at the very least she had to ensure no hidden injuries remained.
During that time, the other platoon members kept working—none of them had lasting injuries beyond deep cuts or broken bones, which could be easily healed with pills.
They meticulously inspected every corpse of the fallen enemies and searched through all the collapsed buildings that had originally stood in the mini-city. After all, they still had to find the spiritual mine.
Fortunately, they found it without much difficulty. It lay beneath a large pile of rubble—likely from a massive building used to prevent demonic beasts or intruders from entering.
Of course, the structure meant to protect the mine had instantly collapsed under the combined assault of the Crimson Punishment Squad.
The mine's entrance turned out to be a hole in the ground several meters deep.
She was quite curious about the mine's interior, but the instructor Huan hadn't let her enter—she was still injured even after ten hours; her current wounds could only heal with time.
Unable to help it, she sighed deeply. With nothing else to do, she began walking through what had once been the mini-city. Many of her platoon comrades were still busy working.
But during her stroll, Qing Xuanling noticed something strange.
"Hey, look—it's the platoon's little hero~"
"Wow, she must be impressive! Nothing like that girl who couldn't even bother to meet her platoon before!"
"The future of the Qing clan is bright!"
The comments, laced with mockery, made Qing Xuanling's ears turn slightly red. Still, the remarks weren't entirely false—one could tell those teasing her actually meant it sincerely.
Qing Xuanling ignored the encouraging and amused glances from her platoon mates until she spotted a familiar face.
"Big Sister An, what the hell is going on?! Those guys with faces sharper than knives suddenly won't stop looking at me with smiles and affection! It's way too weird. Is this some kind of conspiracy against me…?!"
Qing An, who'd been carefully inspecting one of the collapsed buildings, couldn't help but pause and cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Little Ninth, it's no conspiracy," Qing An smiled. "They've already let go of you not coming to meet the platoon that week before the war. They didn't hold it against you out of ill will."
"They're seasoned now—they wouldn't stoop to a junior's level just to tease you. It's just that we were about to enter a war. A single arrogant or incompetent soldier can doom an entire platoon—or even multiple platoons. They just wanted to knock that arrogance off you. But they changed their minds after Captain Linxi gave her report about the battle against Cheng Yogun earlier."
Qing An's gaze grew complex as she looked at Qing Xuanling. "Hearing how strong you are—from someone like Captain Linxi—was shocking, especially since we could all see the aftermath of the battle you two fought."
Qing Xuanling took a deep breath, not expecting it to be something like this. She couldn't help but sigh. She didn't know whether she preferred how they treated her before or now. At least back then, she didn't have to endure so much embarrassment…
"It's not shameful to get along well with your seniors, so enjoy it a bit, okay?" Qing An looked at her blankly. "You should relax more. I haven't seen anyone with as many things on their plate as you!"
She wasn't lying.
They hadn't had a proper place to rest these past weeks, so Qing Xuanling had no choice but to practice right in front of everyone.
Though somewhat uncomfortable, she hadn't minded much. But apparently, that earned her a rather odd reputation among her comrades.
"You've seen everything I have to do—I can't afford to waste even a minute." Qing Xuanling's eyes suddenly turned shrewd. "By the way, what kind of techniques are you good at?"
Three dark lines appeared on Qing An's forehead. "Brat, are you planning to steal my techniques right in front of me?"
"It's not stealing if no one notices," Qing Xuanling grinned shamelessly—but quickly turned serious. "Joking aside, I'd like to learn some martial techniques and spells soon. I've realized my repertoire is too small, but here I don't have many options to learn except from you, my seniors. Of course, I'll pay enough so you don't suffer any loss…"
Qing An stroked her chin, seriously considering it. Letting others learn your techniques was clearly a sensitive matter. Sharing them with the wrong person was like handing your weaknesses to the enemy on a silver platter.
Even among clan members—who mostly had access to the same techniques—personal teachings were rare. But unexpectedly, she smiled.
"Sure—though I'm only skilled in full-body martial techniques that use the entire body as a weapon. Do you mind?"
Qing Xuanling's eyes lit up—not just because Qing An agreed, but also because that technique sounded extremely compatible with her.
"Thank you! How about fifteen hundred spirit stones as payment for the teaching?"
Qing An's eyelid twitched violently. Her technique, though Profound Rank, would normally cost around nine hundred to a thousand spirit stones. Unarmed technique were unpopular.
So Qing Xuanling was practically paying six hundred extra spirit stones—enough to buy a high-quality mid-grade artifact…
She swallowed imperceptibly and spoke casually, "By the way, I know some other pretty good techniques too…"
But Qing Xuanling cut her off. "No need—I don't have that much time anyway."
Qing An sighed in disappointment. "You really don't like making things easy for your dear older sister."
They stared at each other for a second before bursting into laughter. The tension neither had realized they carried slowly melted away, leaving them feeling lighter.
They chatted a while longer until Instructor Huan called the entire platoon to gather around a relatively intact patch of ground.
At first, Qing Xuanling had no idea why they'd been summoned so suddenly—but she understood when she saw what lay at the center of the gathering spot: ten corpses carefully laid out, dressed in deep red ceremonial robes.
It was time for the funeral of those who'd given their lives for the Qing clan's mission.
Instructor Huan's face was solemn.
"None of us here are delicate souls unfamiliar with life and death. Yet I believe I'm not alone in never growing accustomed to losing comrades who fought beside you."
"I can't offer a wish as fanciful as 'may none of you here ever die'—not even I am certain of that. So I only hope that if any of you must die, it will be an honorable and magnificent death like these ten warriors'. Now, let us offer our best wishes to the souls of our fallen brothers. May they receive every blessing, and may their next reincarnation also be within the Qing clan…"
No one shed tears or showed overt sadness. Only solemn faces, hardened by life's harsh trials, remained. Yet all watched intently as Instructor Huan used a torch to carefully ignite the bodies for cremation.
The torch's flame was unusual—intenser and redder than normal—consuming the bodies in under a minute and turning them to ashes that scattered in the wind, returning to heaven and earth to repay nature's favors.
Qing Xuanling watched the scene with distant eyes. Thinking this was how she'd end if she died was both unsettling and comforting. At least, to her, it seemed a good ending—to return to heaven and earth after death.
She sighed imperceptibly and waited for the farewell ceremony to conclude.
The entire platoon stood offering silent blessings to the fallen for ten minutes before finally dispersing.
Qing Xuanling approached Instructor Huan and glanced at a large wooden box nearby. "Aren't we burning the Ink Sword Sect cultivators' bodies too?"
Instructor Huan nodded slightly. "Yes—but not today. Everyone's still emotionally exhausted. It would be cruel to ask them to attend a farewell ceremony for those who killed their comrades. We'll do it tomorrow."
She nodded briefly, casting one last glance at the giant wooden box containing the Ink Sword Sect cultivators' bodies. Though they didn't want to desecrate the dead, there were simply too many corpses.
Leaving them on the ground for beasts to devour wasn't an option, so someone had crafted a massive wooden box to store all the bodies.
She sighed softly and turned away, bidding a final farewell to the cultivator who'd caused her so much trouble.
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Moonlight fell weakly upon the ruined mini-city, briefly illuminating the cultivators who'd fashioned temporary earthen shelters.
All members of the Crimson Sky Platoon were resting—but as they slept, something that shouldn't have opened its eyes… did.
Inside the wooden box filled with Ink Sword Sect corpses, two halves of a single body began trembling violently. Blood tendrils sprouted from the severed edges, seeking each other until they touched and fused the body back together.
A pair of eyes—black as a wolf's maw—snapped open.
"…Between life's edge and death, cause and effect blur, twisting fate's threads. Using my death as tribute, I sever and erase my ties to the Ink Sword Sect and my past, becoming solely Cheng Yogun—the first nemesis of Qing Xuanling, daughter of destiny."
That night, fate's threads snapped—and new bonds were forged.