Lin Shijin touched his face. It was a wonder Sheng Rufei could bring himself to kiss it. He lowered his hand; though reluctant, he continued wearing the disguise.
The cave was deep and spacious. Lin Shijin and Sheng Rufei were tucked away in a secluded corner. Not far off, several disciples had gathered, with Mo Yan surrounded at the centre. Dressed in red, Mo Yan was easy to recognise.
Outside, night had already fallen. Clusters of faint, shifting black mist gathered at the cave entrance. With so many people inside, the number of lurking malevolent entities outside had also increased.
Lin Shijin edged further inwards, doing his best not to draw attention. He brushed Sheng Rufei’s shoulder with his fingertips. “Shixiong, does it still hurt?”
It was more habit than anything; he had already leaned closer to check for himself. The wound was no longer bleeding. It seemed to be healing slowly.
“It doesn’t hurt.” Sheng Rufei caught his fingertips, noticing him glancing about, and reminded him, “Don’t wander off.”
“I know. It’s not just the two of us here,” Lin Shijin said, leaning in to look at the small map Sheng Rufei had placed on the ground. “Shixiong, stop treating me like an idiot.”
At that, Sheng Rufei glanced at him. His gaze lingered briefly on Lin Shijin’s face before withdrawing.
Lin Shijin immediately understood the meaning behind that look. He pinched Sheng Rufei lightly, faintly displeased. “What are you looking at, Shixiong?”
He recognised the map as one of Wuxiang Mountain, though it had been marked all over. Sheng Rufei’s drawing was dreadful; it was impossible to tell what anything was meant to be. Near the Blood Tower were two plump little blobs.
“Shixiong, what’s this?” Lin Shijin pointed at them.
Sheng Rufei’s wrist was still held by him, the youth’s breath brushing his neck. He paused slightly before replying, “Our position.”
“Oh, that’s us.” Lin Shijin thought the drawing was truly awful. Looking more closely, there were slight differences between the two blobs. One even had two small tufts on its head.
“This one’s me?”
Sheng Rufei gave a quiet “mm” and glanced at him. The disdain in Lin Shijin’s eyes was far too obvious. His fingertips twitched slightly. “They’re ears.”
Ears. Lin Shijin quickly understood. His lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Sheng Rufei scribble a little more before putting the map away.
They remained tucked away when a disturbance broke out outside. Lin Shijin looked over. There were too many malevolent entities; the barrier was beginning to give way.
He stayed where he was and watched as Mo Yan summoned two disciples, said something to them, and both immediately dropped to their knees.
Lin Shijin glanced at the creatures outside and guessed it was related.
“Young Sect Master, if we go out, we’ll only be throwing our lives away. Can you truly protect us?”
Mo Yan cast them a single look. The two disciples clenched their teeth, rose, and stepped out with their swords.
The moment they crossed the barrier, Lin Shijin saw only a spray of dark red blood, and within the rolling black mist, crimson eyes flickered into view.
It was strange. These creatures had originally been circling the barrier, but now they were ramming it, as though something inside was drawing them in.
A shrill scream pierced the air. The two disciples’ bodies dissolved into a cloud of blood and vanished into the black mist the instant they stepped out. Gone in a blink.
Lin Shijin was taken aback. Seizing the moment when the creatures were distracted, Mo Yan struck with a sweep of sword light, clearing some of them away and reinforcing the barrier. Even so, it was not enough.
Mo Yan looked over the gathered disciples. His meaning was clear. Two more were needed.
No one moved. No one wished to die. Silence fell, broken only by a few quiet gasps. Mo Yan’s gaze settled on two disciples, whose faces immediately drained of colour.
“Young Sect Master, we only passed the trial two days ago.”
“Please show mercy…”
One disciple swallowed hard, the gruesome scene from moments ago still vivid in his mind. He forced out, “Young Sect Master, didn’t two newcomers join us today? Their loyalty hasn’t been tested yet. Why not send them?”
The cave fell silent. No one objected. It was tacit agreement.
Mo Yan tapped his sword against the ground, considering. “Where are they?”
Behind a boulder, Lin Shijin heard everything. His heart sank. After all that passing around, it had come back to him and Sheng Rufei.
He glanced at Sheng Rufei. Gravely injured, he slipped in and out of consciousness and had fainted again.
If Lin Shijin called him, he would wake. And if he woke, he would go out alone.
If they refused and were exposed, they might escape Mo Yan, but they had yet to enter the Blood Tower. Far greater dangers lay ahead.
Things would only worsen.
Sheng Rufei’s silver hair was concealed, his features now plain. His complexion remained deathly pale, something even illusion could not hide. His lashes rested low, his breathing shallow and faint, so still it was as though his heart had ceased beating.
Many disciples were already looking towards the boulder. They clearly knew where the two of them were.
Lin Shijin tightened his grip on his sword.
He feared blood. He could not bring himself to kill. The thick black mist alone unsettled him.
He thought of Sheng Rufei’s wounds, all tainted with demonic energy. If he were infected again, it would only worsen. The poison would cloud his mind further.
Sheng Rufei already suffered enough.
All this time, it had always been Sheng Rufei protecting him. He had never once thought his shixiong would abandon him. But Sheng Rufei could be hurt. Could collapse. Could falter.
And now the choice stood before him. He had already made it. Perhaps he would fail. But what if he succeeded?
Sheng Rufei was his bottom line. If he continued to run, leaving everything to Sheng Rufei, there would come a day when even Sheng Rufei could not endure it. He might lose him.
At that thought, everything else became insignificant. He did not understand grand principles. He only knew one thing.
He could not live without Sheng Rufei.
“Fuheng… what you said… is it true?”
Leaning against the boulder, he realised his decision had not come from struggle. It had already been made the moment he saw Sheng Rufei collapse. Something had changed then.
“My lifespan will shorten. I may suffer deviation. I will endure pain beyond what most can bear. Is there anything else?”
“No,” Fuheng replied.
“Then go,” Lin Fuheng said, watching him grip the sword. “Once you decide, do not leave yourself a way out.”
“If you hesitate, everything will come to nothing.”
Lin Shijin did not answer. He knew his resolve was weak. He had always chosen retreat. He did not know how long he could endure. But in this moment, he would not turn back.
The disciples were still whispering when someone stepped out from behind the boulder. One of the two newcomers. The other did not appear.
Still veiled, Lin Shijin approached Mo Yan with his sword and met his gaze. “My shixiong cannot continue. I will go alone and hold them off as long as I can.”
The disciples looked at him with mixed expressions. Some thought him a fool. Some were relieved. Some saw devotion. Some felt pity.
Lin Shijin ignored them all. His gaze remained fixed on Mo Yan. “You alone can hold them back?”
His heart pounded, but he forced himself to answer, “I will try.”
Mo Yan studied him, then gave a slight nod. “If you return alive, you will be rewarded.”
A lie. Once he stepped out, there would be no return.
Fuheng’s voice echoed in his ears.
“Do not fear. I have given you the incantation. First, you must overcome your fear.”
“The sword intent is already within you. What matters is whether you dare to take up the sword again.”
Lin Shijin saw the runes flicker across his blade. Cold, eerie, coiling around the sword and spreading down his wrist. A burning heat surged through him, then turned to biting cold.
The moment he stepped beyond the barrier, countless wails filled his ears. The cries of vengeful spirits. The whispers of the abyss.
Cold seeped into his bones. His body became a vessel for countless voices, chaotic and overwhelming.
“Why didn’t you save us?”
“You deserve to fall into hell…”
“Why did you abandon us?”
“Lin. Fu. Heng.”
“I curse you… a life of misfortune… plagued by suffering… losing all you love… your soul scattered and destroyed…”
Pain tore through him, as though he were being flayed alive. Darkness flooded his heart. Crimson and black swallowed him whole. Every step was agony. The sword in his hand felt like chains dragging him into endless darkness.
He could not move. Could not speak. The black mist closed in, filled with countless crimson eyes. The pressure crushed down upon him.
Just as his consciousness began to fade, he bit down hard. The taste of blood cleared his mind.
A figure appeared. Silver hair. Black robes. Cold, beautiful beyond compare. A sword on his back. Eyes that pierced through time itself.
A pale hand extended towards him. “Xiao Jin, come here.”
The familiar voice trembled through him. In that instant, the world fell silent.
Darkness surged towards him, seeking to devour him. But just before it could—
A vast pressure descended. From him, countless streaks of silver sword light burst forth, sharp and radiant, like stars scattering across the heavens.
In a single instant, Wuxiang Mountain trembled. All the creatures vanished into nothing.
Deep within the mountain, beneath countless bones, a pitch-black sword, etched with intricate runes, stirred.
