Sang Dai entered the Nascent Soul Stage at the age of fifty.
She had been stuck at the peak of the Nascent Soul Stage for a long time, faintly sensing the urge to transcend her tribulation, yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon the lightning tribulation.
At such times, one often needed a trigger to stimulate the process. Simply put, a good fight could do the trick.
The eldest daughter of the Sword Sect, Sang Dai, looked at the disciples of her sect and decided they wouldn’t do. If she accidentally went too hard, it could easily cost someone their life.
She needed to find someone who could take a beating.
Lowering her head in contemplation, she carried her sword and walked back toward the bamboo house in the rear mountain. Before she even reached it, she saw a young man dressed in black lazily standing ahead.
Silver hair and dark robes, exuding a provocative and infuriating aura that Sang Dai had only ever seen on this one person.
Sang Dai frowned. “Why are you here again?”
Su Xuan tilted his head slightly and said, “Hmm, this Lord missed Miss Sang and came to take a look. Is that not allowed?”
He knew exactly how to provoke her, and Sang Dai couldn’t stand such words. She drew her sword and slashed at Su Xuan without hesitation.
When these two fought, they never held back, each going all out.
The pitch-black longsword blocked the glowing blue sword of the sword cultivator. Their eyes met, and Sang Dai’s gaze was filled with indifference.
Su Xuan curled his lips into a faint smile, his expression unclear—whether mocking or something else.
With a flick of his wrist, he spun his sword in a flourish and pressed Sang Dai back to the peak of the rear mountain, setting up a barrier. Their battle lasted for half a month.
It was no secret in the Immortal Realm that the Beast King frequently visited the Sword Sect with the sole purpose of fighting the eldest daughter of the sect. Whenever the two clashed, they wouldn’t stop for at least ten days to half a month, and sometimes even for several months.
The disciples of the Sword Sect, seeing the sword flashes from the rear mountain, could only sigh.
“Miss Sang is fighting that Beast King again.”
On the twenty-third day, Sang Dai’s meridians began to boil, her cultivation faintly reaching its limit as if she was on the verge of transcending her tribulation.
Looking at the thick clouds gathering in the sky, she frowned, trying to drive away her nemesis, but Su Xuan’s sword remained relentless.
Sang Dai grew impatient. Within the range of her lightning tribulation, Su Xuan would also be struck.
As their gazes locked again, Su Xuan suddenly curved his lips, his sharp browbones lowering slightly, giving him a wicked and mischievous air. He said, “Is Miss Sang in such a hurry to transcend her tribulation? Fine. This Lord will let you go this time, but on one condition. We’ll talk after you’ve finished your tribulation.”
Sang Dai furrowed her brows. “What scheme are you plotting this time?”
Su Xuan’s eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, curved into an elegant arc like a fox’s, and with a flick of his body, his longsword knocked the wooden hairpin from the sword cultivator’s bun.
Her ponytail was held together by nothing but a single cloth tie.
The wooden hairpin, faintly scented with the fragrance of the sword cultivator’s hair, landed in Su Xuan’s slender hand.
He lifted the hairpin and said, “Consider this as collateral. Miss Sang, promise me one thing, and once it’s done, I’ll return this hairpin to you.”
Sang Dai frowned slightly. “What promise?”
“Before the Mid-Autumn Festival, come to the Beast Realm to find me. We’ll talk about it then. This Lord will wait for you.”
With that, Su Xuan turned and disappeared from her sight in the blink of an eye, leaving only Sang Dai’s Nascent Soul lightning tribulation lingering in the void, waiting for her.
It took her three full days to transcend the tribulation. Afterward, as she touched her black hair, she recalled the promise she had made to Su Xuan. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she still picked up her sword and prepared to head to the Beast Realm to find him.
Before she reached the border of the Beast Realm, the jade token at her waist lit up.
“Miss Sang, there’s chaos in the southern region.”
She glanced at the border of the Beast Realm, now within arm’s reach. After remaining silent for a long moment, she opened her mouth to respond when the voice from the other end urged her again.
“I understand. I’ll go now.”
After that, she left and didn’t return for seven years.
During those seven years, she was constantly on the move, tempering herself through endless trials. The ghost chaos in the southern region had been severe, causing the deaths of countless civilians in the Immortal Realm. Sang Dai pursued the vengeful spirit for years, tirelessly hunting it down. She never crossed paths with Su Xuan during that time and completely forgot about her promise. After finally capturing the vengeful spirit, she sustained serious injuries and remained unconscious for a long time.
When she woke up, no one was outside the bamboo house. Supporting her weakened body, she opened the door and found a bag of osmanthus cakes placed outside.
Sang Dai thought they were a gift from Sang Wenzhou and Madam Shi. Her heart warmed, and she ate the entire bag of osmanthus cakes.
In the blink of an eye, eighty years passed.
The wind by the river was chilly, and ripples spread across the protective moat of the Beast Realm. The two of them stood close to each other.
Sang Dai asked, “Back then, did you come looking for a fight with me on purpose, knowing my Nascent Soul tribulation was delayed?”
Su Xuan snorted coldly. “What else? Did you really think I showed up just to pick a fight with you every time?”
Sang Dai chuckled. “The osmanthus cakes at the door—did you leave them there?”
“Who else would’ve left them?”
Sang Dai covered her eyes and began to laugh, her voice crisp like silver bells.
She truly felt as though she had missed out on so much.
Sang Dai asked, “Why didn’t you mention it when we met later?”
Su Xuan replied angrily, “I even wore that wooden hairpin when I came to see you, but you didn’t notice at all. You just drew your sword and started slashing at me.”
The little fox’s heart shattered into pieces, and he returned to the Spirit Beast Hall, heartbroken for a long time.
At that time, he had also been quite prideful. If Sang Dai couldn’t remember, he was too embarrassed to bring it up.
Su Xuan pinched her face in a fit of exasperation and said, “Back then, I asked you to come to the Beast Realm because the Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching. I wanted to spend it with you. But this Lord sat at the main city gates waiting for three days, and you never showed up.”
Sang Dai brushed his hand aside and asked, “Did you cry?”
“I didn’t cry.”
[But I felt heartache for you, knowing you were probably out tempering yourself again.]
At the Sword Sect, Sang Dai frequently went out for training. Whenever something evil or ominous arose, the Sword Sect almost always sent Sang Dai to handle it.
She had been so, so exhausted back then.
Sang Dai let out a long sigh and said with some regret, “I made the little fox sad many times in the past. I’m sorry.”
Su Xuan turned his head away. “If you know you’re sorry, then treat me better.”
“Well, I’m here now to fulfill the promise. Su Xuan, think of another one—what else do you want me to promise you?”
Su Xuan looked into her eyes and said, “You said it, so I will think of one.”
Sang Dai nodded. “Alright.”
Su Xuan’s thumb traced the corner of her eye as the corner of his lips curled up slightly. “I hope that this eldest daughter of the Sword Sect will spend countless Mid-Autumn Festivals with me—every single year.”
“Dai Dai, the promise I want from you is this.”
In the little fox’s eyes, familiar emotions surged. When their gazes met, those emotions grew bolder and more unrestrained, as if he was afraid she wouldn’t notice. After all, Sang Dai had been so dense in the past, and even now, she wasn’t much better.
The corners of their lips lifted simultaneously as they exchanged a tacit smile, their eyes sparkling with traces of starlight.
Mid-Autumn was a time for family reunions.
Sang Dai agreed to the promise. “Alright.”
She replied, “From now on, every Mid-Autumn Festival, I will spend it with you—in the Beast Realm.”
The promise she had failed to fulfill for him years ago, she would spend the rest of her life making up for it.
Su Xuan poked Sang Dai’s forehead, dimples faintly visible as he smiled. His brows softened, and the sharpness of his strikingly handsome face became gentler.
“Give me the hairpin. I won’t give it back to you.”
“Alright, I’ll give it to you.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Hmm, it’s a token I’m giving to you. It represents my promise. As long as I see it, I will never forget this promise.”
“And what is your promise?”
“To spend every Mid-Autumn Festival with you, in the Beast Realm.”
Satisfied, Su Xuan smiled, stood up, and before Sang Dai could react, lifted her onto his back. He picked up the bag of half-eaten osmanthus cakes and carried the sword cultivator along the path they had come.
“It’s late. Time to rest.”
Having someone carry her meant no walking, and Sang Dai was more than willing.
She rested her head on Su Xuan’s shoulder. “Alright.”
“I’m sleeping in the main hall tonight.”
Sang Dai countered, “We are not staying in Chunqiu Tower anymore, why must you sleep with me? Otherwise, I’ll go sleep in the side hall.”
Su Xuan flatly refused, “No, I’m picky about where I sleep. I want to sleep with you. You agreed to daily closeness, didn’t you? We’ll use two blankets.”
Sang Dai sighed softly, rested her head back on his shoulder, and said with a laugh, “Su Xuan, you’re so clingy.”
The little fox huffed but said nothing more.
Sang Dai leaned against his shoulder, watching as the trees around them receded. She rested her head against the silky smooth strands of the fox’s hair.
She closed her eyes, her voice and breathing softening. “Su Xuan, I’m going to nap for a bit.”
“Alright, sleep.”
With Su Xuan around, he would always bring her home. It didn’t matter how the journey went; the destination would always be correct.
Sang Dai’s breathing soon evened out. She had fought a fierce battle in the past two days and hadn’t slept well out of worry for him. Now that the tension eased, drowsiness swept over her like a tidal wave.
Su Xuan tilted his head slightly, her hair brushing against his face as the back of her head rested on his cheek. Her small face was turned away from him.
He kissed her hair gently.
“Dai Dai, I really like the hairpin.”
And he really liked Sang Dai too.
The little fox carried her home with a faint smile on his face, his sword cultivator safely on his back as he made his way to the Spirit Beast Hall.
—
The night had grown deep, and the streets of the city were deserted.
Tonight, thick clouds blanketed the sky, obscuring half the moon’s light. A cold wind swept through, causing the lanterns along the street to flicker as their candle flames wavered.
A young man walked down the opposite street, adjusting his clothes. The chilly wind dispersed some of his drunkenness, though his mind remained hazy and muddled.
He staggered along, his blurry gaze catching sight of a tall figure standing in the middle of the road.
The figure stood with hands clasped behind his back, appearing tall and imposing. Dressed in black, his face was obscured.
The young man squinted and stumbled closer, his drunken steps unsteady and erratic.
Waving his hand, he shouted, “Get out of the way! Don’t block this young master’s path!”
His family was renowned as wealthy merchants, and in this Linglong Town, no one dared cross him. Even the city lord had to show respect to his father.
But the man in black remained motionless, standing in the center of the road, blocking his way.
The young man, now angry, hurled his wine bottle. The bottle shattered, and the wine splashed onto both of them.
At last, the man in black moved. He raised a hand and touched his lips, where the wine had splashed.
“Get lost! Do you know who my father is? I’ll have you fed to the snakes by tomorrow!”
The man in black wiped the wine from his lips with his pale hand. A faint smile curved his mouth as he stepped out of the shadows.
At that moment, the thick clouds began to part, and the moonlight grew brighter.
The clear moonlight fell upon him, revealing his tall and upright figure, broad shoulders, and narrow waist. He had the frame of an exceptionally handsome man, but his face was hidden behind a mask. Only a pair of pitch-black eyes and pale lips were visible.
The man in black spoke, “Do you know of the Guixu?”
The drunken young man, now enraged, snapped, “What the hell is that? Get lost!”
The man continued, “The Guixu is the foundation of existence in the cultivation world. Do you know why?”
“I don’t know! Get out of my way! How dare you block my path!”
“You don’t even know that?” The man in black smiled faintly, his eyes curving. “The Four Sufferings on you are far too thick. You ought to die.”
“What nonsense are you spouting? What Four Sufferings? Who dares—”
Before the drunken young man could finish his sentence, he suddenly realized something was wrong.
His neck stiffened as he lowered his head.
The spot where he had been standing, which should have been paved with blue bricks, was now slowly crumbling. A thick vine was emerging from beneath the ground, breaking through the stone.
The vine was dark green and sturdy, adorned with numerous unopened flower buds. It slithered like a living creature, wrapping around his legs.
The drunken young man trembled as sharp thorns pierced his legs where the vine climbed, and an inexplicable force began to drain his blood.
“Help, help!”
But he had come out alone tonight, leaving his attendants behind. No one was nearby to hear his cries for help.
He had some cultivation, and in his panic, he tried to summon spiritual energy to sever the vine.
The man in black raised a hand in a mock attempt to stop him. “Hey, don’t.”
But the drunken young man, now terrified, ignored him and gathered spiritual energy. The moment the energy formed in his palm, the vine that had been crawling slowly suddenly thickened and grew larger. The thorns embedded in his legs expanded and drained the blood from his limbs in an instant.
A massive leaf on the vine wrapped around him, lunging hungrily at the spiritual energy condensed at his fingertips. In one swift motion, it severed his entire hand.
“Help—!”
The leaves enveloped him from front and back, closing around him like a deadly trap. As they slowly sealed shut, his face contorted in panic and despair, his pupils dilating with fear.
In the final moment before the leaves closed completely, he caught one last glimpse of the man in black standing not far away.
Beneath the mask, the man’s lips curled into a smile. He shook his head, as if lamenting something.
The leaves sealed shut entirely.
The vine tightened, and countless sharp thorns pierced through the leaves, impaling the body inside. Blood and flesh were devoured until nothing was left.
One of the flower buds on the vine seemed satiated. A small flower unfurled leisurely.
Other than a single drop of blood on the shattered blue bricks and the fragments of a broken wine bottle, no trace remained of the person who had stood there moments ago.
The man in black raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Refusing to listen—it’s only right to die.”