“Shifu, why has the flood stopped? Did something just crash down?”
Crash down?
Yes.
But the old Daoist priest, with his limited cultivation, couldn’t see clearly.
He wiped the mud and water from his hands and barked, “Who cares what it was? The flood’s stopped, so that’s a blessing. Take your xiao shimei back to Qiliang Mountain first.”
“Shifu, that person… he seems to have fallen from the sky too. He’s badly injured.”
“What?”
“Don’t move. I’ll go take a look.”
The old Daoist priest stepped onto his flying sword and glided steadily over the floodwaters, landing on a nearby hillside.
Upon that slope grew an old pine tree. Beneath it lay a young man in blue robes, his life or death uncertain.
The old priest leaned closer and hissed softly through his teeth. The youth stirred and opened his eyes. The Daoist frowned, helped him upright, and while sprinkling medicine on his wounds, muttered, “Young friend, how did you end up so grievously hurt?”
He reeked of thunder… of the wrath of wind and rain.
The wound on his chest was terrifying: deep enough to expose the bone, with a faint glimpse of his beating heart. Were it not for a cultivator’s formidable self-healing, he would have perished long ago.
Xue Cuo drew a sharp breath, then managed weakly, “Many thanks, honoured elder.”
“Ha! You and I are both cultivators under Heaven; there’s no need for thanks. You must’ve been sucked into the air by that water tornado just now, eh?”
“By the way, what’s your name? Where’s your sect’s gate? Your shifu and shixiongs… are they nearby? If you’ve lost contact, I’ll have my disciple escort you back presently.”
“Don’t mind the pain. As the saying goes, medicine itself bears three parts poison. My healing pills are rather well-known around these parts.”
“Hm? Your bleeding’s stopped on its own.”
The old Daoist, caked in mud and rambling away, somehow made Xue Cuo feel unexpectedly at ease.
He leaned lazily against the pine tree, sighed softly, and listened without interruption.
After resting a while, Xue Cuo lifted his gaze to the heavens. The thick rain clouds had scattered; sunlight broke through the gloom in beams of golden light.
In the distance, a tiny black speck twisted and darted across the floodwaters, pursued by a dozen streaks of treasured radiance. Hunted and battered, it was none other than Yin Feixue.
With his keen eyes, Xue Cuo saw clearly. He couldn’t help but smile, the motion tugging at his wound as he bared his teeth in pain.
“Honoured elder…”
Xue Cuo bent one knee, clasped the Daoist’s hand, and smiled faintly. “I’d like to ask a favour.”
“What sort of favour?”
Meanwhile…
Yin Feixue had reverted to his true form: a lithe white tiger.
Its fur was pure as snow, its markings silver-white, streaked here and there with darker gold. By looks alone, it far surpassed the spirit beasts raised in any sect.
He bounded through the flood, laughing wildly, goading the cultivators pursuing him until they were purple with rage.
“Wretched beast! Hold your tongue!”
“How dare you spew such lies! I’ll slay you today!”
The [Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal] came crashing down, followed by a flurry of treasures.
Yin Feixue’s pupils narrowed. He spat a curse and drove the word [Freedom] to its utmost, rolling aside just before the Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal smashed into the earth.
Awooo—!
The tiger roared… not in fury, but with a strange exhilaration. And instead of charging at his enemies, he continued to circle them amidst the flood.
“Shixiong, the rain’s stopped, no one’s watching from the sky. Our credit’s gone! We must capture this tiger, or we’ll have no face before the elders!”
The cultivators suddenly realised they’d been led in circles. They’d been tricked by Yin Feixue, and in their obsession had even forgotten their merit records!
Damn it!
Just then, the white tiger turned upon the eaves, pacing as though mocking their stupidity.
“Catch him!”
Shamed and enraged, the lead cultivator unleashed the full might of the Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal. Even if it levelled the land, he would not let this demon go!
Yin Feixue’s fur bristled; he leapt clear of the Seal’s crushing range.
Suddenly…
Wind rose beneath his feet. Lotuses bloomed with each step; golden plum blossoms unfurled from his palms. His flagging spirit flared anew.
Joy flashed in his eyes. Glancing down, he saw three talismans. Two dangled by his ears, one blue and one red.
The blue read [I Escape Fast], the red, [You Can’t Kill Me].
Between them hung a green [Plum Blessing Talisman], inscribed [Great Fortune and Prosperity] on the left and [Joy to All Who See] on the right.
“Xue Yinbing!”
Yin Feixue burst out laughing, his exhaustion swept away. With renewed vigour, he turned and charged straight at the cultivators.
His speed surpassed the Lake and SeaHeaven-Turning Seal’s reach; one swipe of his claw sent a cultivator tumbling into the flood.
“Ah! Shixiong!”
“He’s got help! Who dares oppose the disciples of Taiyi Sect!”
The cultivators were caught off guard by his sudden resurgence. Within moments, three had fallen.
Their souls, which should have returned to their sect, were instantly transfigured by the [Plum Blessing Talisman], vanishing into the vast loch.
Knowing that Xue Cuo was safe by now, Yin Feixue no longer held back. He resumed his human form, black robes fluttering, broadsword in hand.
The blade gleamed like a rainbow.
Talismans shimmered faintly around him.
Yin Feixue fought with unrestrained fervour, each wound fuelling his wrath. He roamed the marshlands, sending all the fallen humans and beasts into peaceful passing.
He was drenched in blood, his aura terrifying. The remaining cultivators faltered, retreating in fear.
“Shixiong, we’ve been tricked. Someone set us up! This tiger can’t be subdued by the Heaven-Turning Seal!”
“Impossible! This treasure was bestowed by the Sect itself. Lend me your strength!”
“Shixiong, I’ve a wife and children at home…” One cultivator gritted his teeth and fled as a streak of light. “I’ll take my leave first!”
The leading cultivator, knowing full well the tiger was not to be trifled with, still refused to yield.
He hardened his heart and slashed his sword through the fleeing disciple, cutting him down mid-flight. “Who dares run! We provoked this beast together. If the Sect demands punishment, we’ll share it equally!”
“Fellow shidis. Attack with me!”
“Shixiong…”
With no way left to retreat, they looked at one another, minds wavering. Their movements slowed, each subconsciously allowing the leader to step forward, all secretly searching for a way to flee.
This loose band of cultivators might have stood a chance of fully activating the Heaven-Turning Seal, but amidst their tug-of-war, that chance slipped away.
Yin Feixue had fought through countless battles soaked in blood. How could he possibly miss this fleeting opportunity?
The clash raged until heaven and earth dimmed, sun and moon losing all light. When the storm finally subsided, the floodwaters had turned a deep, blood-red.
Yin Feixue was spent. He sat cross-legged upon the ground, wiping his black blade slowly with the hem of his robe.
From his chest tumbled a small white paper figure, carrying the Goddess’s incense burner upon its back. Seeing it, Yin Feixue couldn’t help but smile.
“Yinbing-xiong, where are you?”
The paper man blinked its inky eyes but said nothing. It hopped to the ground, scratching at the earth with one tiny hand until a line of words appeared.
Yin Feixue leaned forward… and his smile froze.
[Three Thousand Merits]
[The Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal]
[These two as tokens of gratitude]
[Mountains and rivers meet, but here we part]
When it finished writing, the paper figure, still carrying the incense burner, leapt into the floodwaters. Yin Feixue was fast, yet not fast enough to stop it.
Eager to return home, the little paper man never noticed the tiger’s expression sink into shadow.
The two had met only by chance, and friendship was never truly there.
At least, that was Xue Cuo’s belief. He departed without a care. Taking stock, he saw that this battle had removed a hidden threat from Tiandu City, leaving behind both the merit of saving lives and the [Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal.]
All debts settled. He and Yin Feixue were even.
There was no reason to linger any longer.
Xue Cuo looked toward the distance. The river, once burst, was now held back by a newly risen dam.
The resting place of the Golden Dragon’s bones… no floods would threaten this land again for at least three hundred years.
He chuckled softly, donned his bamboo hat, and walked away upon the wind.
An old Daoist crouched behind a slope, sneaking about.
He held three talismans. Even with his limited understanding, he could tell they were valuable, though he couldn’t read more than that. Among mortals, talismans were children’s tricks; even travelling swindlers knew such things couldn’t fool anyone.
Yet he had seen it with his own eyes: when that man chanted his spell, the talisman flew with a whoosh into the battlefield, and at once, the white-furred tiger demon’s energy and blood surged, turning defeat into victory.
[Gathering Spirits]
[Invigorating Qi]
[Communing with the Divine]
“These words look so sloppy… do they even work?”
The old Daoist muttered to himself, though he still tucked them away carefully. He’d test them in secret later.
Just then, a dark shadow fell before his eyes. He jumped in fright. When he looked up, his soul nearly fled his body.
“You.”
A white-furred tiger stood before him, ferocious and imposing, its golden eyes molten-bright. It seized the old Daoist by his collar, sniffing the air. “You smell of him.”
“Who? This old Daoist’s been pure yang for sixty years! Don’t talk nonsense!”
The Daoist’s face turned pale green. The tiger’s expression grew even more terrifying. Coldly, it demanded, “Let me ask you. Where is the one you just saw?”
Instinctively, the Daoist glanced to his left. In the same instant, the tiger dropped him and lunged in that direction.
Heart pounding, the Daoist gathered his things and couldn’t help but chuckle. “The older, the wiser. Let’s see how that tiger finds anyone in that direction.”
Fearing Yin Feixue’s return, he slipped away.
The once-bustling town was now a vast expanse of shimmering water. Silence drifted upon the wind.
And at that very moment—
In the Eastern Divine Lands, beneath the Hidden Dragon Abyss.
The sky hung cold and dark as ink.
From a narrow crevice stepped a woman in a plain skirt and thornwood hairpin, a dragon-etched broadsword upon her back. She walked straight into the illusion.
The instant she emerged, a thousand discordant voices surged into her ears. In a breath, the illusion warped and shifted endlessly.
…
Ascend in radiance, live forever.
…
Attain the Great Dao, rise beyond the heavens.
…
Immortal lovers, vanished to the ends of the earth.
…
She walked on, step by step, without pause. The illusion twisted itself to extremes, yet she was unmoved. For twelve years, He had tormented her day and night, unceasingly… but not once had she lost her reason, nor her clarity.
Her sword intent only burned brighter, purer… like a raging dragon breaking from the sea, like fire blazing across the heavens.
[Mother]
Within the memories He had pried into over and over, a crack appeared. The woman faltered for an instant.
He rejoiced, at once conjuring countless visions of the child’s torture and slaughter, laughing in cruel delight.
For she had not moved. She had not walked away, but stood there, watching.
Twelve years! Even iron should have worn to dust beneath His grinding.
In the darkness, a claw scaled like a serpent’s crept silently toward the cold-faced woman… waiting for the moment she would waver.
And when she did, he struck a killing blow.
