The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 5 Tears of the Little Wolf

Vera remained unconscious for seven full days. During that time, Aiden never left her side, carefully monitoring her condition to ensure it didn't deteriorate. Though her cultivation technique differed from his own, it shared the same foundational roots, which allowed him to aid her recovery.

Disciples of the Suncrest Sect practiced a singular foundational technique: the Sutra of the Pristine Spirit. This cultivation art, celebrated for its purity and spiritual depth, was regarded as one of the finest, rivaling the methods of the Silverwind Monastery and the Sacred Flame Sect. Vera's Eternal Blossom Sutra, while a branch technique, also stemmed from the same origin. Though not identical, it bore enough similarities for Aiden to stabilize her damaged meridians.

"...She's been lying there for quite a while," muttered the old physician as he examined her.

Inherited energy, four years of interrupted cultivation, and improperly circulated Qi—then the reckless, desperate release of all that power. Her malnourished, fragile body simply couldn't withstand such a strain.

"She'll need at least a month of hot meat soup to recover," the physician said, shaking his head as he glanced at Aiden.

"I can afford that much," Aiden replied.

"Don't worry," the physician added. "She'll wake up soon."

"Are you certain?" Aiden asked, his voice calm but with a hint of concern.

As if in response, a faint groan escaped Vera's lips.

"...Ugh... ahh... uuugh..."

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a groggy and unfocused gaze. She frowned slightly, as though her head pounded with pain, and weakly propped herself up into a sitting position.

"Are you alright, Vera?" Aiden asked gently, his voice calm but filled with genuine concern.

The sound of her name startled her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she flinched, her shoulders trembling.

"...Why are you so startled?" Aiden asked.

"Ah... I... it's you, my lord," she stammered, her voice soft and uncertain. "I had a bad dream..."

"What kind of dream?" he asked, leaning slightly closer.

"...It was that day's dream. I have it often. It's nothing unusual," she replied, averting her gaze.

Her tone was steady, but her words carried a weight that belied her youth. For Vera, the dream was indeed nothing unusual—but the memories it brought were anything but ordinary. To relive the sight of her father's beheading and her mother's hanging every night... it was a torment no child should endure.

"Have you ever gone a night without that dream?" Aiden asked after a moment of silence.

"Unfortunately, no," she admitted.

"Shouldn't Suncrest Sect accept me first?" she countered sharply.

It was a fair point. No matter how much Aiden claimed her as his disciple, it would mean little if the sect rejected her. Her origins alone posed a significant problem.

"They will accept you," Aiden said confidently.

"You sound very sure of yourself, my lord," Vera remarked.

"The Great Master Thorne will take a liking to you," Aiden assured her.

Thorne, the senior elder of Suncrest Sect and Aiden's own master, was a man known for his unyielding belief that talent must never go untaught. Aiden himself had experienced that firsthand, having once been deemed talentless by others.

"...Then I suppose that's fortunate," Vera said quietly.

"How are your meridians?" Aiden asked.

"I'm fine now," she replied.

"You'd better be. I've gone to great lengths to stabilize them," Aiden said with a faint shrug as he handed the physician half a tael of silver.

"That's quite generous for a doctor's fee," the physician remarked with a chuckle.

"Take it before I change my mind," Aiden replied curtly.

The physician laughed, waving as he left to gather herbs. "Close the door if you leave," he called over his shoulder.

"Now, let's prepare ourselves," Aiden said, turning back to Vera.

"I don't need much to prepare..." she began.

"You do," Aiden interrupted, pulling a black martial robe and a pair of shoes from his bundle. He handed them to her. "Are you planning to walk all the way to Silver Crest in maid's clothing?"

The question left Vera silent. She took the robe without complaint, knowing he was right.

The world was cruel, granting power even to the wicked. The Celestial Blade Star was proof of that—a star that blessed its bearers with unnatural talent for martial arts. Yet, for all their gifts, those born under its influence often bore burdens far heavier than most.

"...You're learning surprisingly quickly," Aiden remarked as Vera began practicing her new steps.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied, her voice sharp and clear, matching his tone.