Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 623 I am a Rabbit-Eared Clan 41

Under Jianyan's guidance, Yun Chu immersed herself in the study of medical principles every night. Her fervent thirst for knowledge allowed her to temporarily forget the fear and helplessness she felt upon arriving in the city.

However, the instinct for survival and the thought buried deep in her heart—"to use the silver flame to complete the mission and build a home"—entwined her heart like vines.

Yin Yan is a tiger-type beastman. The majesty of a higher race is like an invisible pressure, but the chaotic memories of being given medicine last time, and that faint, strange touch, are still rippling in his memory.

Perhaps conquering this aloof orc is not entirely impossible. A resolute glint flashed in Yun Chu's eyes: she would take the initiative.

The opportunity arose one morning.

As soon as sunlight pierced through the cracks in the stone chamber, Yin Yan had already gone out on patrol or to handle affairs as usual, leaving the residence in silence.

Despite her weakened state, Yun Chu mustered her courage and pushed open the heavy door.

The outside world was still unfamiliar—towering ancient trees, woodlands covered with withered leaves—but she did not back down.

When Yun Chu found the kitchen, the ingredients were limited, with only some herbs and dried food from the storeroom: wild potatoes, dried fruit, and dried meat.

Using her agile leaping skills (a rabbit-eared instinct), she scaled the shelves, gathered ingredients, and quickly conjured up images of flavor combinations from the orc world: wild potato pancakes sprinkled with herbal powder for aroma, and bitter chrysanthemum added to stewed meat to neutralize the fishy smell.

Sweat soaked the fine hairs on her forehead, yet she began to hum a little tune.

As evening fell, Silver Flame returned silently like a shadow, carrying with it the chill of the forest.

He walked straight to the stone bed, intending to routinely check Yun Chu's injuries—only to find a plate of steaming flatbread and a bowl of fragrant stew on the stone table.

The golden food exuded an enticing aroma, but unlike usual, this time it carried a hint of herbal fragrance.

Yin Yan frowned, his golden vertical pupils sweeping coldly across the cave entrance, thinking to himself, "They've found a new chef?" He sat down to taste the food.

A bite of the baked flatbread reveals a crispy exterior and a soft interior, with a subtle herbal flavor that balances the roughness of the wild yam; the stew is even more mellow and delicious, with the bitterness of the chrysanthemum perfectly masking the gamey taste of the meat.

He remained indifferent, but his Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly, and he finished off the food in a few bites.

And so, the days flowed by with Yun Chu's proactive actions.

During the day, she continued to prepare food for Yin Yan: today it was wild fruit pies, tomorrow it would be warm soup made with herbs. Every meal was carefully prepared, as if her wisdom for survival was incorporated into the food.

Yin Yan remained as cold as ever, but silently ate everything, as if he had tacitly accepted the existence of the new "chef".

But Yun Chu did not slack off—under the oil lamp at night, she diligently studied medical principles while holding Jian Yan's ancient scrolls.

Jianyan praised her for being quick to understand and taught her to identify living herbs: the yin-like properties of water hyacinth and the stimulating effects of stone flower.

Knowledge, like roots planted in her heart, transformed her from a passive lamb into a warrior wielding the blade of self-preservation. In the lamplight, her gaze was sharp and focused.

Two days later, the truth was revealed.

Yin Yan returned early as usual, but to his surprise, Yun Chu was still busy by the stove—she was standing on tiptoe, arranging a plate of freshly baked herbal cakes.

The two locked eyes instantly.

Yin Yan was stunned, his voice like shattered ice and snow: "Did you do this?"

Yun Chu's long ears perked up with nervousness, and she nodded timidly.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, and for the first time, Yin Yan's gaze showed hesitation on her face.

He sat down silently, picked up the pancake, and took a bite. The familiar aroma brought a new kind of shock.

This time, he ate very slowly. (Yun)

Chu's heart pounded, and he stole a glance—in the depths of Yin Yan's cold golden eyes, a ripple seemed to flash. Like a stone thrown into a deep pool, the ripples spread silently: he had thought this was the surrender of the weak, but he tasted an indescribable subtlety and perseverance.

Yun Chu's life settled into a rhythm: cooking during the day and studying medicine by lamplight at night. Culinary skills became her bridge to Yin Yan, while medical knowledge was the foundation of her self-reliance.

As for Yin Yan, after experiencing all her efforts, a crack was quietly appearing in the ice layer of his heart.

Inside the cave, the aroma of food mingled with the scent of herbs and books, like a silent ballad, foreshadowing Yun Chu's next step.

On the eve of the Frost Moon Festival, the Tiger Clan's Ice Crystal Square was crowded with slaves carrying offerings. Blacktail deliberately blocked three carts of Xuanbing ore on Silver Flame's patrol route.

When Silver Flame's armored guards appeared, he leaned against the mine cart and sneered, "Where's the physician? Did someone die while he was treating him?"

Before the words were finished, a slave's cry of alarm rang out—the cart shaft had broken! A thousand pounds of ice ore crashed down, smashing directly into the bear cub huddled by the roadside.

A silver afterimage tore through the wind and snow.

"Qiang!"

Silver Flame's longsword pierced through the ice mine with overwhelming force, and the flying ice shards drew blood from Black Tail's face. Even more terrifying was that the shattered ice from the sword's energy hovered three inches above the cub's head, solidifying into a matrix of sharp ice shards.

"Ice Soul Takes Form!" a warrior shouted in disbelief.

Black Tail's sinister smile froze on his face. His meticulously planned killing scheme was like child's play in the face of absolute power.

Silver-Melting Gold's pupils swept across the icicles scattered on the ground, each icicle precisely reflecting Blacktail's deathly pale face: "If there's a next time—" With a flick of the blade, the icicles instantly vaporized, "and what shatters won't be ore anymore."

That night, the north wind, carrying the scent of medicine, blew into the stone fortress. Yun Chu was using a silver needle to prick the festering wounds of the wounded. As she applied the pale green ointment with her fingertips, granulation tissue sprouted from the festering areas.

"The litmus flower stimulates regeneration, and the water-cold herb stops the festering." Jianyan stroked his beard and nodded. "You little rascal, mastering the reaction of the living medicine in three days seems like you were born to do this."

Yun Chu's long ears were taut with focus. Beside the treatment table lay a bear-tribe slave with a high fever, the father of the cub Yin Yan had rescued earlier that day. She mixed the bitter chrysanthemum juice into the snow lotus core medicinal soup, then suddenly turned her head: "Add another half a qian of firethorn fruit?"

Jian Yan's pupils constricted sharply: "You want to fight poison with poison?"

“The chill seeps into the bones, causing a high fever; the firethorn fruit can force out the deep-seated poison hidden in the marrow.” She held the crimson fruit in her palm, its fuzz stained with medicinal ink. “But you need to wrap your heart meridian with the power of ice—just like the captain did.”

The stone chamber fell silent. Yin Yan stood in the shadows, arms crossed, his black armor covered in a thin layer of frost.

Seven days later, at the Frost Moon Festival, when Yun Chu used bone needles to revive a cub that had choked on blood, the first cry of "Healer Yun Chu" rang out from the slave horde. Jian Yan made an exception and allowed her to carry her medicine chest at the head of the sacrificial procession, her trembling rabbit ears peeking out from under her tiger-striped cloak.

Kuro-o crushed the ice cup on the high platform.

He watched the white figure disappear through the crowd, then suddenly grinned at his guards, revealing his sharp teeth: "Send men to keep a close watch on the infirmary. The wounded that little thing healed..." He ground blood-stained ice shards into powder in his palm, "...it's time to distribute some."

The cold wind whipped up the torches of the altar, casting distorted shadows onto the ice wall. Silver Flame's golden eyes reflected the leaping flames, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of his sword—where a new, fine mark had been carved, its shape remarkably resembling an upright rabbit ear.

The wind and snow, carrying sparks from the altar, pounded against the silver flame shoulder armor, and the ice crystal that had landed on the rabbit ear carving suddenly vaporized.

He watched as Yun Chubai's white cloak disappeared into the slave procession, his golden eyes turning to the high platform—Heiwei was smearing blood-stained ice shards onto the sacrificial flag, his sharp canine teeth flashing coldly as he whispered to his guards.

As the sacrificial drumbeats shook the icicles off the eaves, a scream suddenly erupted from the direction of the medical hut. Three bandaged bear-tribe slaves tumbled down the icy steps, their wounds gushing bluish-black poisonous blood.

"Physician Yun Chu's medicine is deadly!" the Black-Tailed Guard roared, stomping on the convulsing wounded man. "Drag this brat to the Ice Execution Pillar!"

The commotion that erupted from the crowd froze instantly.

Yun Chu's cloak was whipped about by the gale, and firethorn fruit powder spilled from her sleeves, only to evaporate into a crimson mist upon touching the ice. She charged towards the wounded, stepping through the poisonous blood, her silver needles faster than any of the guards' spears.

The moment the needle pierced the wounded man's heart, the crimson mist precisely drilled into the rolled-up flesh, forcing the bluish-black poisonous blood into ice beads that bounced out of his body!

“It wasn’t a medication error.” She licked the blood from the corner of her mouth and held up a shard of mystic ice she had pried out from under the bandage. “Someone froze the Soul-Shattering Grass juice into the wound—that’s the real reason the chill seeped into my bones.”

A cracking sound rang out from the high platform. Silver Flame's scabbard had somehow become lodged in the throat of Blacktail's bodyguard, who was attempting to hurl the Soul-Shattering Grass juice container at Yun Chu's back.

The poison cylinder suspended in mid-air was suddenly covered with frost, and tiny ice crystals bloomed from the cracks in the cylinder wall, each one reflecting the golden flames in Silver Flame's pupils.

"The Soul-Shattering Grass explodes when exposed to fire." Silver Flame's voice cut through the wind and snow. "Priest, the torch behind you is trembling too violently."

The altar fell silent. All eyes were fixed on Blacktail's trembling right paw—he was clutching an ice tube dripping with venom, the torch behind him casting the venom a ghostly blue hue.

If the silver flame hadn't frozen the poison tube, the moment the splashed Soul-Shattering Grass juice touched the torch, half the slaves on the altar would have turned into a bloody mist.

A roar from the solid rock broke the stalemate: "Take down this blasphemous ritual..." Before he could finish speaking, three healed bear slaves suddenly sprang into action. The lingering crimson mist from their wounds coalesced into chains, hurtling straight at Blacktail's face!

Yun Chu's medicine box burst open at this moment.

The litmus flowers, pre-mixed with medicinal powder, grew wildly upon contact with blood, their thorny vines binding Blacktail's feet. Just as the slave's fist was about to smash Blacktail's nose, the tip of the silver flame blade lightly touched the ground.

hum-

The enraged bear slave was repelled by the ice crystal barrier, but Blacktail had five deep, bone-revealing bloodstains on his face.

Silver Flame's icy power enveloped the wounds, freezing the blood into a miniature matrix of ice shards, much like the death array that had hung over the cub's head that day.

"Your life for three hundred people at the festival." Silver Flame stepped over the congealed poisonous blood, his black armor stained with the crimson powder scattered by Yun Chu. "A good deal." The wind and snow whipped up the rabbit ear carvings on his sword hilt, casting the shadow of interlocking teeth on the ice.

In the deepest part of the stone fortress, the icy matrix on Blacktail's face suddenly melted. From the festering wound, tender buds of litharge flowers sprouted, and from the buds seeped the juice of bitter chrysanthemum mixed with the scent of firethorn berries—a "return gift" of blood that had splattered into Yun Chu's medicine chest when it broke.