“Bang—”
The barrier shattered before him, and the world fell into complete darkness. Only the faint glow of the Blood Refining Array beneath his feet remained. A tremendous hum rang through the air. In the next instant, a black iron sword shot straight towards the array.
The longsword, etched with intricate brocade patterns, halted before him. Its blade was entirely black, radiating a dense, malevolent aura. Four faint characters appeared in the air:
—What makes a sword.
Lin Shijin stood tall, gazing at the words. His fingertips slowly reached out and touched the blade. He lowered his eyes slightly and felt a bone-deep chill.
“I do not know what makes a sword. It is nothing more than establishing one’s heart, establishing one’s fate, bringing benefit to the world… I do not seek any of that. I only seek… a clear conscience.”
As his words fell, Qiushui Sword dropped into his hand. Boundless pressure spread outward, dark malevolent energy unfurling like ink.
Lin Shijin tightened his grip on the blade. With each step he took, the Blood Refining Array beneath him receded by an inch.
When he reached the end, a massive black crane-feather sigil emerged. He stood still as a deep light spread from the Qiushui Sword.
The sword’s oppressive force stirred the clouds above. It struck the sigil, and endless sword energy surged forward. With a thunderous crash, the crane-feather pattern shattered.
At the moment it broke, the entire mountain trembled. Lava surged from the edges, and waves of scorching heat roared forward.
Lin Shijin gripped his sword and slashed through the air, carving a vast rupture that tore apart countless interconnected formations throughout the mountain.
“What was that…”
“Someone destroyed the Void Formation of Wuxiang Mountain.”
“The Blood Tower is collapsing, leave now…”
As the Blood Refining Array vanished, many disciples regained clarity. One after another, they turned to look at the figure in the sky.
The youth held a pitch-black sword, his long hair loose at his sides. His presence was cold and untouchable. Countless resentful spirits dissipated around him. He turned slightly, his features striking and clear, his bearing like spring brocade blooming upon a frozen mountain.
Someone recognised him.
“Master, that is…”
Yue Han sheathed his sword. The information had been correct. Qiushui Sword had indeed fallen into Lin Shijin’s hands.
The worst outcome, and also the best.
For a moment, he did not know what to say.
Cui Haoxue watched the direction Lin Shijin had gone. A paper crane slipped through the fractured formation and landed on his fingertip. After a brief moment, his expression changed.
“This place is about to collapse. We leave first.”
Seeing his grave expression, Yue Han said nothing further. He transmitted orders to the remaining Scourge-Slayers Envoys, all of whom bore injuries from the formation.
The group vanished.
Mo Yan glanced into the distance, his gaze shifting slightly, but remained silent. Someone had broken the barrier for them. That alone was enough.
The disciples dispersed as the formation collapsed, their tokens falling to the ground. None of them knew that what awaited outside was another hell.
At the edge of the stone platform, all had left. Only a single figure in black remained.
Sheng Rufei could barely hold his sword. Half his face was devoured by the curse, his vision blurred. Warm blood slid from his palm down the blade. His heartbeat was slow and heavy.
In the moment before he lost consciousness, he seemed to see the youth approaching him, lips moving, calling his name.
At the sight of that familiar face, the tension in him eased. The world fell silent. Only that figure remained.
Pain surged belatedly through his body. He touched his cheek, his gaze distant. Even as he fell, his movements were clumsy, as if trying to hide his condition from the youth.
“Shixiong—”
Lin Shijin watched him collapse and rushed forward, catching him. His fingers brushed Sheng Rufei’s cheek. The black runes there receded slightly at his touch.
Qiushui Sword hovered nearby. Lin Shijin’s fingers tightened as the mountain trembled violently. Lava splashed onto the platform.
“Shixiong, do not be afraid. I will take you out.”
The youth on his back stirred faintly. Sheng Rufei leaned against him, and Lin Shijin vanished from where he stood.
The moment he stepped out of Wuxiang Mountain, surging lava swallowed the entire platform, along with the shattered crane sigils, erasing everything.
Wuxiang Mountain had been a sealed domain, the entire mountain bound within formations. Once broken, all the disciples were expelled outside Buye City.
Lin Shijin carried Sheng Rufei on his back. Sheng Rufei had already lost consciousness. Shouque did not pursue them. Right now, he needed to find somewhere to treat the injuries.
He moved through stretches of dark forest. Qiushui remained by his side, and no evil dared approach. His fingers brushed warmth, and his pace quickened.
As he passed the forest’s edge, he noticed the nearby village lay in ruin. Blood stained the dry grass. A bad premonition rose within him. But he had no time to investigate.
He found a remote courtyard and stepped towards it. Just before entering, he caught sight of a corner of a moon-white robe and paused. Only for a moment.
Then he carried Sheng Rufei inside and set up a barrier.
Qiushui Sword planted itself at the entrance, releasing an invisible force that blocked the two figures outside.
Feng Rugao and Feng Qing stood at the door. The sword’s tip pointed directly at them. A childish voice rang out from the blade.
“You again. What do you want with my master?”
“My master does not welcome you. Leave.”
Qiushui had never been gentle. A flash of sword light cut through the air, slicing open Feng Rugao’s sleeve.
Feng Qing frowned slightly, yet Feng Rugao showed no anger. He knew this was no ordinary blade. Its childish voice meant nothing. It was an evil sword that had existed for at least three thousand years.
“I wish to see him.”
“Who do you think you are? You think you can see my master whenever you like? Leave now, or I will not be polite.” The voice was soft and childish, but the pressure it released was immense.
Outside, they remained in a stalemate.
Inside, Lin Shijin laid Sheng Rufei down and examined his wounds. There were too many to count.
He touched Sheng Rufei’s cheek. The black runes had faded, leaving behind a crane-shaped mark on his forehead.
He tried every method he knew, but could not remove it. After bandaging the wounds, he lifted his gaze slightly and spoke. “You knew all along, did you not? You did this so I could summon Qiushui.”
Fuheng did not deny it. “Yes.”
“You wanted me to watch him die?”
“He is cursed. He will not live beyond three months.”
Whether sooner or later, the outcome would be the same.
Lin Shijin’s fingers paused. “When did it begin?”
“At Jinyue Temple. When he was injured. The wound would not heal.”
Lin Shijin tightened his grip slightly. He stared at Sheng Rufei’s unconscious face.
So he had known all along. And still said nothing.
“You liar.” His voice trembled. “Did you not say you would tell me everything?”
“Why hide it from me?”
There was no answer.
He brushed Sheng Rufei’s eyelids and remained by his side for a long while. At last, he stood, removed his outer robe, and draped it over him.
“I will return shortly. Wait for me here, Shixiong.”
He stepped outside.
Qiushui Sword still stood at the entrance. Feng Rugao and Feng Qing remained there.
Lin Shijin looked at Feng Rugao, his expression calm. The word “Shizun” never left his lips.
Feng Rugao studied him. In just a few months, the boy had changed. His bearing had sharpened through hardship.
The Seven Soul Candles had ignited. His soul had fully awakened. He remembered everything now.
“I came to take you with me,” Feng Rugao said.
He paused. The curse would soon spread everywhere. No place would be safe.
“I will take you somewhere secure.”
Lin Shijin did not care.
“I do not need it. I have my own matters to attend to.”
His thoughts remained on Sheng Rufei. He did not wish to linger. “Is there anything else?”
He met Feng Rugao’s gaze. The man’s eyes churned with layered emotion, heavy with a deep, unyielding fixation. Before Lin Shijin could turn away, Feng Rugao caught hold of his wrist.
Lin Shijin’s aura cooled by several degrees. Before he could speak, Feng Rugao spoke first.
“Shouque will not let you go. You should come with me.”
“He is afflicted by an evil curse. It cannot be undone.”
“I know. There is no need for Shizun to trouble himself over me,” Lin Shijin said, prising Feng Rugao’s fingers away one by one. “I will not go with you. Not before, not now, and not in the future.”
“I do not know what happened in the past. I only remember fragments. Shizun has given me much. In time, I will repay it.”
Feng Rugao had retrieved the Snow Lotus Sacred Heart for him, and had done many things for him before. Lin Shijin had vague impressions of it, though the details would not come back.
Even if his wishes had never been asked. In the end, he had been the one to benefit. He had nothing to argue.
As for anything beyond that, he had neither the strength nor the capacity to consider it, nor could he give anything more. His heart was already filled by one person. There was no space left for anyone else.
When Lin Shijin finished speaking, Feng Rugao still did not release him.
“If you could remember, you would understand. Leaving with me is what suits you best.”
I waited for you for a thousand years. I went to great lengths to bring you back, to give you a new life. Your life was never meant to exist without me.
Feng Rugao’s thoughts surged. He had lived too long, so long that his feelings had dulled. Even when torn open by wounds, he showed nothing. He had sacrificed tens of thousands of years of lifespan for this youth, only for it to come to nothing.
He had meant to grant another an empty joy. Now, with everything begun anew, that empty joy had fallen upon himself.
“Xiao Jin… come with me.”
Feng Rugao lowered his head. Never had he been so humbled. His gaze traced the boy’s face inch by inch, quiet and intent. After a long silence, he spoke what lay in his heart for the first time.
He had always been aloof, untouchable, intolerant of defiance, least of all from the youth. Yet the lad was drifting ever further away, stepping beyond the reach of his grasp.
Perhaps he would never be able to reach him again.
The one he had guarded for over a thousand years, the one he could not let go, had become the prison he trapped himself within. From the moment, a thousand years ago, when the youth stepped into the endless abyss, his own time had ceased to move.
The courtyard fell into silence.
On the other side of the wall, Sheng Rufei leaned against it. His wound had reopened, his face pale, his gaze unfocused.
His whole body was tense, afraid that if the youth uttered a single “yes”, he would fall into the deepest darkness.
Never to see the light again.
