Wendao Palace loomed amidst clouds and mist, rising above the great loch, lofty and unreachable.
For tens of thousands of years, no storm had ever shaken it so. Fang Longxi crushed his disciple’s nameplate in his fist.
“The immortal sect betrayed me. I shall cut down the immortal sect. Kindness repaid, hatred repaid.”
They had smashed the pill chamber that day, yet it was but a false chamber. The true pill chamber lay within the hearts of the immortals. That, none could touch.
Once the gods withdrew, Wendao Palace turned to its reckoning. No more mention of the Wendao Pill. Only the decree to slay every rebellious disciple.
Those who surrendered would be granted registered disciple rank; those who betrayed Fang Longxi, Wen Renyi, Zhu Xuewei and the rest would be rewarded with direct discipleship.
Kong Yun, ready to fight to the death, was suddenly seized and borne away by a white-furred tiger. In a flash of light, he vanished without trace.
Fang Longxi, driving the stone dragon, gathered a band of disciples to hold the palace. A dead end, a nine-in-ten certainty of doom.
But then clouds drifted down from the heavens. They swelled and took shape. Giants of mist and thunder. They clashed with the cultivators laying siege, and sky and earth alike dimmed with their battle. In that chaos, a narrow road to survival was torn open.
The disciples, eyes red with fury, fled Wendao Palace under the escort of cloud gods.
Fang Longxi bowed his head in shame. “I once hunted clouds as well. Cloud Brother, I owe you a karmic debt. But why… why now would you aid us?”
The cloud gods roared with laughter. The leading giant spoke: “Xue Cuo came to us last night, upon the clouds. He is of the Goddess’s line. To aid him is to aid Her.”
Yet the longer the cloud gods strayed from Wendao Palace, the heavier grew the fetters upon them. At last, his frame buckled. His body unravelled into a thousand threads of vapour.
Fang Longxi cried out in horror, but the shackles that bound the gods were beyond his power. He could only watch the giants’ bodies dissolve into drifting haze.
The cloud god’s face grew faint, his voice scattering like wind. “For ten thousand years I was bound, until I forgot my Goddess. Yet even now, without freedom, I have never ceased to long for Her. Human cultivators, if chance allows, burn incense in my name. Tell my Goddess, the Cloud Guard still endures.”
“The Great Dao does not perish. The Goddess shines forever!”
“The Goddess shines forever!”
With laughter like thunder, the cloud gods vanished. Fang Longxi stood choking on his words, unable to speak.
Heroes were not heroes. For such things were ordinary. Even centuries hence, the chroniclers would not note the chaos of Wendao Palace. They would write only: [Sword Immortal took the bell, Xue Cuo was executed.]
Wen Renyi’s heart ached with grief. A female cultivator slung her blade across her shoulder, steadying him with an arm. “Don’t force yourself.”
He drew a ragged breath, then collapsed, burying his face in her chest, sobbing without restraint. The woman murmured, “Enough, enough. We are wanted criminals now. All that’s left is to roam wild mountains and rivers.”
A nearby cultivator sighed heavily, yet not without hope. “Heaven and earth are still before us. A thousand mountains and rivers lie ahead. Fellow Daoists… farewell.”
Some stood dazed. Some wept. Others laughed bitterly, light as dust.
Fang Longxi clasped his hands behind his back and turned. “I will go to the borderlands. There I will open a monastery. If any of you one day face peril, with nowhere to rest your heads. Come to the border mountains, and find me.”
“Good.”
“Shishu, I shall go with you.”
“Fellow Daoists… farewell.”
Silence settled upon Wendao Palace.
Qingcang Zhenren reclined beneath a pine. A few elders sat with him. One muttered, “Jun Wuwei truly cannot be restrained. Even so, he refuses to touch the least karmic thread. If he had reached for the cause of the Wendao Pill…”
“Hoho.”
A chess stone fell. The black stones closed their net, swallowing the white.
Another elder sighed. “So many years of scheming, all for nothing. We deepen our sins, worsen our karma, and yet cannot drag down so much as one of his fingers. I’ve lost several disciples in vain.”
Qingcang Zhenren opened his eyes, lifted them to the sky, and stroked his beard, shadowed by care. “Friends, do not be hasty. The great calamity approaches; the immortal road will open. We will yet have our chance.”
“But the child, Xue Cuo. He is indeed strange. A pity his spirit platform was taken. Else we might have studied him.”
“A pity.”
“Twelve-grade. Rare treasure enough for alchemy.”
The elders sat steeped in regret.
Beneath Oxhorn Peak came a youth in yellow. His bearing was peerless, unsullied by mortal dust, like snow upon a high mountain, or lotus blooming in ice. In his hand hung a string of Buddhist beads, stained with dried blood.
“Xi Tao.”
A cultivator asked, “Why have you come here?”
Xi Tao gave no reply.
Across his back lay two swords, one long, one short. One was broken, shattered by violence, yet painstakingly pieced together by his care.
The corpses left unclaimed within Wendao Palace he gathered into a storage ring.
For three days he walked the ruined halls, matching nameplates to bodies, laying each to rest.
One cultivator muttered that they were traitors’ corpses. Yet Xi Tao’s status silenced him. Better less trouble than more. Let him be.
Xi Tao buried them in a lonely place, far from Wendao Palace, upon a hillside strewn with wildflowers.
That day, the sky was clear, blossoms in full bloom. A tall, long-limbed woman with an ordinary face plucked a spray of flowers and set them before a grave.
Her robes were torn, her body marked by countless wounds, though her strength was plain.
As they passed one another, Xi Tao remembered. Elder Bai Xianmei of Taiyi Sect, her beloved daughter missing. Of late, she searched for a tall, scarred female cultivator with an ungainly face, who bore a sword upon her back.
Xi Tao watched the girl’s retreating back, hesitated a moment, then walked to the tombstone.
“Chen Zongping.”
It was a name he had never heard before.
Having gathered the bones, Xi Tao lingered in thought for a long while before finally stepping into Fei’e Palace.
The secret realm’s original master had defected from Wendao Palace; now without an owner, it had been taken over by another elder. Xi Tao spent a few spirit stones to gain entry.
The sky remained as it once was, the lingering sword intent seemingly preserved on purpose.
He could almost see again that bright-eyed youth, ever pressing forward.
“Zhu Xiaoyou, Xue Cuo has avenged you.
“It’s a pity I wasn’t there then, unable to shield you, unable to aid Xue Cuo.”
After a long silence, the youth sank to one knee, his hand brushing the blood-soaked soil. “Now, I too must seek my own path, Zhu Xiaoyou.
“I will also go and see your homeland.”
…
Beneath Liuyun Peak.
A black-robed youth sat cross-legged in stillness.
A breeze stirred, lifting the hem of his robe, carrying soft petals down to rest upon his clothes.
He opened his eyes, moving through each sword form with clarity and solemn focus. Compared with when he had first entered the sect, his cultivation was no longer the same.
Before him hovered the Snow Sword. Perched lazily upon its blade was a great dark-green hand, staring off at drifting clouds.
Time passed unnoticed. When Gu Ruhui at last finished practising, his brow damp, he stepped to the sword, raised a teapot, and drank deeply.
“Senior.”
Snow Sword was silent for a long while before humming faintly. Gu Ruhui, too, kept silent, his eyes full of unspoken thought, yet unable to voice a single worry.
Shifu’s grace, he dared not forget.
Yet mortal seasons are short; perhaps old friends would never have a chance to meet again.
…
The Red-Haired Ghost and Green-Haired Ghost were at the heart of the city.
The villagers of Xiantian had thrown up barricades and were rushing about in a frenzy. Not people…… ghosts. There were far too many ghosts!
No one knew why, but today countless souls had suddenly rained from the sky. Looking closely…ho! They were all young gentlemen and noble ladies, their souls sturdy, leaping over rooftops, brandishing swords and spears, each one capable!
At first, the newcomers were panic-stricken. Catching sight of Red-Hair and Green-Hair, they cried out “monsters!” and moved to defy them.
Fortunately, there was the chivalrous, gallant and strikingly handsome Great Constable Chen!
Constable Chen had long resided here, granted access to the Sutra Library, and through cultivation attained Dao. His ghostly body was unyielding, his methods exquisite!
Before the new ghosts could even lift a hand against the Red- and Green-Haired Lords, Chen Constable had already struck with his one ghost-grasping hand, one whirlwind kick, sweeping them straight into the piles of paper money!
“Bravo!”
“Constable Chen is truly amazing!”
Girls of Xiantian Village flung their heads in the air with shrill cheers, their faces shifting from deathly white to bashful grey.
Constable Chen, blade at his hip and uniform straight, said sternly: “Young ladies, do not toss your heads about so carelessly. If they fall in the fields, they’ll be difficult to recover.”
Indeed, Constable Chen worked tirelessly. He alone was the constable of this whole place!
Some cultivators, seeing the girls throwing heads like toys, were so terrified they yelped like dogs and collapsed with a thud among the paper money.
Feeling this was unseemly, Chen Constable hastily admonished: “Ladies, best not carelessly show your heads in public.”
The girls’ faces dimmed to ashen shame. Hugging their heads, they scurried away.
With a weary frown, Chen Constable turned back. His features sank, ghostly qi rising from him, a fearsome air spreading that made the new ghosts quake, frozen in place.
But all he did was pace through them, as though searching for someone. Finding no one, he showed a smile that was both joyful and sorrowful.
One bold cultivator asked, “Might I ask, where is this place?”
Chen Constable’s brows arched like swords. “This is the Divine Kingdom of the Goddess of the Great Loch. You are the shades who have entered her realm.”
“Divine Kingdom?”
The cultivators exchanged bewildered glances.
The Red-Haired Ghost trotted over on short legs, beaming. “Constable Chen, quickly! Another batch has fallen ahead. Hurry, come with me to receive them.”
One young cultivator, still traumatised by Wendao Pill, struggled and shouted: “You mean to confine us here? What are your intentions?”
Chen Constable turned, one hand on his blade-hilt. “This blade cuts only wicked spirits. The Goddess’s realm asks nothing of you. Justice remains unshaken.”
…
Beneath the Qianlong Abyss.
The mists deepened and thickened.
A white-robed Sword Immortal shouldered the Dao Bell, stepping slowly into the fog’s heart.
The Dao Chains were no common metal, but forged by ancient gods themselves… unbreakable, made to bind demons. Yet the Dao Bell upon the Sword Immortal’s shoulder seemed older still.
Where he walked, the fog drew back of its own accord.
At the farthest depth, countless chains thrust into the earth, and a profound array severed this place entirely from the Dao of heaven and earth, from the very breath of life.
Jun Wuwei’s expression remained calm, his strength driving the Bell to its utmost.
A thousand attempts, and still no method save breaking the seal. But the seal could not be broken. All he could do was try to wield the Dao Bell’s divine art to hollow out a space within, to win the Swordmaster a moment’s reprieve.
In the suffocating black seal.
A woman in a torn plain skirt, bearing the Dragon Might Sword, suddenly sensed something. After endless struggle she staggered at last to arrive… only to find a narrow gap of white.
Xue Zhenzhen faltered. She stepped into the rift, and at once the clamour and curses outside fell silent.
She lifted her gaze.
Is it him?
She had thought that untouched by karma, he would never go so far…
With a quiet sigh, the woman leaned wearily upon her broadsword, closed her eyes, and at last found a moment’s rest.
The author has something to say:
Just remember: Xue Cuo wasn’t killed, only stripped of his spiritual platform, cast down to the mortal world as an ordinary man. Still alive, still alive.
In the next chapter, he’ll be grown up.
