Immortal Road Worry-Free - CHAPTER 2:
On the Isle of No Worries, the sky was washed clean and blue.
A soft breeze rippled across the sacred pond, stirring the white lotus that floated at its heart.
Its reflection shimmered upon the water’s surface, scales of light glinting like silver fish.
Time itself seemed hushed here neither past nor future could be told apart.
In that timeless dream, Bai Yushuang grew.
She had never seen her parents, nor met the elder brother whose
name she knew only from whispers in her sleep.
Yet, in her dreams, there was always a figure tall and bright
as a pillar of light standing still, silent, smiling at her.
That smile felt like snow melting into spring,
like the first breath of dawn over sleeping mountains.
A thousand years passed. The lonely moon shifted its gaze,
the stars trembled again, and the white lotus bloomed once more.
The Isle of No Worries knew no seasons. Eternal spring lingered upon it.
At its center grew the Divine Fusang Tree, its leaves like golden flame,
radiating gentle light day and night. The island glowed beneath its warmth,
as if suspended within a tranquil dream and within that dream,
Bai Yushuang grew up.
When she first emerged from the lotus heart, she was no taller than three feet.
The first light she ever saw spilled through the branches of the Fusang Tree.
Barefoot, she wandered over the spirit-stone paths, unknowing yet full of wonder.
The sacred tree sheltered her from wind and rain,
teaching her the language of the breeze and the name of each morning dew.
Though she had never seen her father or mother, she knew their names:
her father, Bai Sheng; her mother, Qing Mei; her elder brother, Bai Guyu.
She knew the fate of the ancient god-born bloodline
and that she alone remained. The island was her world, her home.
Bai Yushuang was gifted beyond measure. Under Fusang’s patient guidance,
she learned to read by three, recited The Dao Origin Sutra by five.
The island’s library held ten thousand scrolls
from talismans and formations to astronomy and the stars’ hidden patterns
and she mastered them all with quiet grace. She never rushed.
When she read, one hand propped her cheek, her eyes curved in a faint smile,
as if conversing softly with the immortals within the pages.
Once, she asked the Fusang Tree,
Why are there always so many trials in the books I read?
And the divine tree answered, its leaves sighing gently,
Without tribulation, how could one’s true heart ever be known?
At six, she first drew upon the world’s spirit energy pure and clear as jade.
At eleven, she began to study the sword.
At seventeen, the light of her spirit gathered, her foundation was set,
and heaven and earth seemed to pause for a heartbeat.
That night, the stars hung low, listening to her breath.
She loved to sit beneath the Fusang Tree, her skirt brushing the grass,
eyes lost between her book and the drifting clouds.
The sea mist beyond the island and the world’s unseen sunlight mattered little to her.
Each dawn she cultivated her breath and practiced the sword;
each afternoon she read beside the spirit spring, bathed in the tree’s golden shade
a wordless, gentle protection.
The island itself was bound to her soul,
a small world forged from her father’s divine consciousness.
She needed no spell or seal to command it.
A single thought could shift mountains and guide rivers.
Everything here was serene, radiant, untouched by dust or disaster a dream that refused to end.
But that day, the dream rippled.
The light of the sky wavered. At the edge of the island, the barrier trembled.
Rising from beneath the Fusang Tree,
Bai Yushuang felt a strange vibration in her heart
something new, something foreign.
It was as if a wandering soul had brushed against the borders of her world.
She crossed the spirit bridge and stood at the island’s boundary.
There, streaks of bl00d traced along a tear in the air.
A man collapsed upon the shore robes torn, body marked with countless wounds,
his presence heavy with killing intent. It was as though he had just
emerged from a war between life and death. His spirit was shattered,
his breath faint, yet his hand still clutched the broken hilt of a sword.
Bai Yushuang had never seen such a sight. Still, she did not retreat.
She approached, summoning a soft, clear light in her palm to sense his pulse.
The instant her light touched him, the man’s eyes snapped open dark as a starless night.
The will of the sword still burned within them. He moved on instinct,
reaching to restrain her but froze when their gazes met.
Her eyes were like mist at dawn bright, clear, and untouched by the world’s dust.
Who are you? he breathed.
Her brows knit slightly. And who are you? she replied. Such a strange man
to collapse at someone’s doorstep.
He was tall, his face angular and pale beneath the bl00d, the kind of sharp,
solemn beauty that made one wary rather than at ease.
His presence carried both nobility and danger.
Where… am I…? he tried to speak, but his voice broke into
a violent cough, bl00d staining his lips.
Bai Yushuang watched those shadowed eyes, feeling an unexpected stir in her heart.
Beneath the bl00d and killing aura, the sword intent that surrounded him was fierce,
yet upright unyielding and pure. This was no villain.
Your wounds are far too deep. Don’t speak, she said softly, lifting him with both arms.
She carried him back to the island to tend his injuries.
His condition was dire spiritual channels torn, sword energy rebelling within,
a gash across his chest deep enough to touch bone.
Following the guidance of the Fusang Tree,
Bai Yushuang washed away the bl00d with spirit water, ground herbs into balm,
and carefully applied them to his wounds.
Her movements were clumsy but earnest; from time to time,
her glowing palms rested upon his scarred chest,
channeling her gentle spirit energy into his meridians.
Days passed. The man did not wake.
Each morning and night, Bai Yushuang came to change his dressings,
her expression calm and focused.
Until now, she had only ever healed the spirit beasts of the island
this was the first time she had ever tended to a man.