That spiritual energy was exceptionally pure, and Ying Heng knew it had been transferred to him by his own disciple.
With the influx of spiritual energy, he felt significantly more at ease.
Ying Heng teleported forward, and though vines surged toward him, Sang Dai cut them all down. Thousands of vines swarmed, yet not a single one managed to touch Ying Heng.
In the blink of an eye, Ying Heng arrived before the osmanthus tree.
His expression remained cold and detached.
“Chunying.”
The Chunying Sword flew from his hand as Ying Heng formed seals with both hands.
“Overlapping Slaughter Seal, descend!”
The sword gradually disappeared, replaced by a massive, ethereal sword shadow that enveloped the entirety of the City Lord’s Mansion.
The oppressive aura was terrifying. The spiritual seal descended from the heavens, landing squarely on the towering osmanthus tree.
The tree was crushed inch by inch as cracks began at its base and swiftly spread throughout the trunk.
The vines, as if sensing imminent doom, grew even more frenzied, flooding the small courtyard with tens of thousands of tendrils.
Though neither Sang Dai nor Ying Heng could be seen amidst the chaos, the sound of the tree splintering and the killing intent of the sword strikes echoed clearly. The overwhelming oppressive force was palpable, shaking anyone who sensed it to their core.
On the rooftop, Liu Lixue nearly collapsed to his knees, his legs trembling. Su Xuan, filled with disdain, casually formed a barrier around him.
Liu Lixue shivered and stammered, “W-who is this person…?”
Clearly, he didn’t even have spiritual energy, yet with just the small amount Sang Dai had provided, he was able to cast such a powerful killing seal.
Su Xuan raised his chin slightly, his voice calm as he said, “Immortal Lord Ying Heng.”
Liu Lixue: “!”
He pointed at the vines flooding the courtyard, “Wasn’t Immortal Lord Ying Heng supposed to have his spiritual root stripped away?!”
His face was filled with shock. “How can he be this fierce? You’re telling me he’s just an ordinary person without a spiritual root now?!”
Su Xuan smiled lightly, “Anyone who could teach Dai Dai so well, can Immortal Lord be an ordinary person?”
Liu Lixue was stunned into silence.
At that moment, the countless vines were sliced apart by the sword light that broke through them.
The two of them flew out of the courtyard.
Sang Dai called out, “Su Xuan, bring Young Master Liu up here!”
As soon as she finished speaking, Liu Lixue was yanked into the air by Su Xuan, who grabbed his arm.
Sang Dai unsheathed her sword with one hand, swinging it down with cold, sharp sword light that covered the small courtyard like a tsunami.
The house collapsed, the vines were shredded by the sword light, and severed tendrils flew through the air.
Su Xuan casually threw out some Hellfire, burning all the severed vines in the courtyard to ashes.
At the same time, the vines in the alleyways of Linglong Town seemed to lose their vitality. The dark green vines rapidly withered, the man-eating leaves drooping, and the deadly thorns no longer posed a threat.
Shen Ciyu, who was hacking at the vines with his sword, had a barrier behind him, protecting the common folk of Linglong Town.
In the blink of an eye, the man-eating vines in front of them fell to the ground, their bodies shriveled.
The cultivators were confused.
“Is… is it dead?”
“How could it suddenly die? Just a moment ago, it was still dividing and regenerating.”
“This… this is too strange…”
Shen Ciyu sheathed his sword, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, and looked toward the direction of the City Lord’s Mansion.
He now understood why Sang Dai had asked Liu Lixue to uproot that osmanthus tree.
Above the City Lord’s Mansion, the Hellfire still burned.
Liu Lixue numbly asked, “So… the vine’s true form is the osmanthus tree?”
But he could see that the flowers on the vine weren’t osmanthus flowers.
Sang Dai sheathed her Zhiyu Sword and, supporting Ying Heng with one hand, looked coldly at the ashes scattered across the courtyard.
“No, this osmanthus tree was originally hollow. The trunk has long been empty. The vine merely took shelter in it to protect itself. The true spiritual consciousness of the osmanthus tree… is the flower that Wu Hanshu holds in that pot.”
Liu Lixue: “?”
He couldn’t understand at all. “What is that? How did that pot of flowers become osmanthus flowers?”
Sang Dai transmitted Liu Lixue’s words to Ying Heng.
Ying Heng understood the confusion of this younger generation. Although he couldn’t see, he still explained softly, “I am indeed old friends with Hanshu. However, we only planted this osmanthus tree together in the 13th year of Zhijing, with six people. The pot of flowers didn’t exist at that time. This vine can divide, so the ones you killed earlier were not its true form. The only place in Linglong Town without vines is the City Lord’s Mansion. Therefore, the true body of the dividing vine should be hidden here.”
Liu Lixue, quick-witted, soon pieced things together. “So, you didn’t plant the pot of flowers, but didn’t you agree that the flowers would bloom and you’d meet again?”
“Yes,” Ying Heng replied. “This osmanthus tree has spiritual awareness. It was personally cultivated by Ah Xuan. Our agreement was—”
He paused, his voice softening, “That in the third autumn of its life, when the osmanthus tree bloomed, we would meet.”
But the osmanthus tree had long since died during these three hundred years.
It had never cultivated into a spirit; it was just an ordinary osmanthus tree. Because it was cultivated by Weisheng Xuan, it gained spiritual awareness, but that was not enough to evolve into a spirit that could take form.
Thus, its lifespan was not long. Over the years, Wu Hanshu had guarded this tree, but had yet to see them fulfill their agreement.
Liu Lixue said, “The osmanthus tree died, and this large tree is just a hollow shell. But then the person behind the scenes appeared, revived the spiritual awareness of the osmanthus tree, and transplanted it into the pot of flowers. Wu Hanshu used his soul power to nourish the pot of flowers, giving it the possibility to bloom again?”
Ying Heng nodded. “Yes.”
Liu Lixue continued, “And then the vine took shelter inside the hollow shell of this tree. Since the City Lord’s Mansion is located in the heart of Linglong Town, the vine rooted itself here, its body embedding into the ground. It can move in any direction within Linglong Town, allowing it to control the entire area.”
“Yes, this young master’s understanding is correct.”
Liu Lixue fell silent.
At this moment, the Hellfire had completely extinguished, leaving only ash on the ground.
The osmanthus tree, which had lived for over three hundred years, was crushed to the ground by Ying Heng’s Overlapping Slaughter Seal and then burned clean by Su Xuan’s Hellfire.
In the large pit, something was glowing.
Su Xuan descended first, reaching the edge of the pit.
Sang Dai, supporting Ying Heng, followed, with Liu Lixue trailing behind.
The little fox jumped into the pit and picked up the glowing object.
It was a vine that had not been burned by the Hellfire, but it was weak and emitted a faint glow. The protective covering around it had been destroyed, and it had been severely injured by the Hellfire, losing its ability to regenerate.
Liu Lixue pointed at the vine. “This is it. When I was attacked in the City Lord’s Mansion, this vine that could bloom was there!”
Throughout Linglong Town, all the vines had been generated by this main vine, devoid of awareness, simply consuming everything it encountered. But this vine had subjective consciousness, could control the other vines, and could even bloom.
Liu Lixue picked up the vine in Su Xuan’s palm, which had now shrunk to the size of a sword.
Seven flowers bloomed on the vine, all fully open.
It struggled slightly, but Liu Lixue tightened his grip.
“You dare bite me? Do you know who I am? I’ll take you back and use you in medicine!”
The vine trembled.
Su Xuan took it from him and handed it to Sang Dai. “Dai Dai, you hold onto it. The flowers on this vine are somewhat strange. It seems like they bloomed after consuming the Four Sufferings. We’ll examine it more closely when we get back.”
Sang Dai nodded. “Alright.”
She wrapped the vine with a long string and placed it into her Qiankun pouch.
Liu Lixue: “….”
He sighed dramatically, “Alright, alright, now that you haven’t even gotten married yet, Lord, you don’t care about me at all anymore.”
Su Xuan didn’t even glance at him, his gaze fixed on the distance.
A person sat atop the roof, holding a pot of flowers and looking in their direction.
He had witnessed the entire battle earlier but hadn’t interfered. Calmly sitting on the roof, he allowed them to destroy the osmanthus tree and dismantle his courtyard.
Liu Lixue also noticed Wu Hanshu, and the peacock, who had been chatty earlier, fell silent.
Sang Dai sent a transmission to Ying Heng.
After a brief silence, Ying Heng replied, “Dai Dai, wait here for your master. I will be right back.”
“Okay.”
Ying Heng mounted the Chunying Sword and flew toward the roof where Wu Hanshu was.
Wu Hanshu, holding the pot of flowers, had been drinking for three full days, and now his body reeked of alcohol.
If Ying Heng still had his senses intact, the first thing he would have noticed was the black veins creeping up Wu Hanshu’s neck and face.
His consciousness was hazy, and his entire being was suffused with deathly energy as he looked up at Ying Heng.
He could tell that Ying Heng had lost his senses, and after a brief laugh, he sent a transmission to him, “Brother Ying.”
Ying Heng pressed his lips together and responded, “Brother.”
Wu Hanshu held the pot of flowers, and the flowers had already bloomed.
But it wasn’t osmanthus flowers—it was an ordinary magnolia, though it held the spiritual awareness of the osmanthus tree.
He murmured, “It’s been three hundred years. The tree is dead, and none of you came…”
Four died, one went missing, and one remained, alone, waiting for their agreement.
Ying Heng asked, “Why bother? If you hadn’t held onto this pot of flowers, you wouldn’t have ended up like this.”
Wu Hanshu suddenly smiled, though his voice was weak. “You’ve forgotten many things. Actually, if I hadn’t nurtured this pot of flowers, I wouldn’t have lasted this long.”
Ying Heng’s mind was indeed in disarray, not understanding why he would say that.
He remembered many things, but also forgot many, and the things he had forgotten seemed extremely important, but he couldn’t recall them no matter how hard he tried.
Wu Hanshu’s voice grew faint. With a hoarse tone, he said, “In my lifetime, I had no talent. When I was young, I had a bad temper and offended many people, had no friends. If I hadn’t saved the previous City Lord, I wouldn’t have even gotten the position of City Lord here.”
“But in this lifetime, I made five friends with exceptional talents. You didn’t mind my bad temper, didn’t despise my mood swings. You taught me cultivation, drank with me. That year in Linglong Town, I will never forget it.”
Ying Heng sat down beside him, feeling his way. He asked, “The four of them are gone, and I’ve been blamed for destroying the Guixu spiritual vein. Brother, you should have forgotten by now.”
Wu Hanshu, exhausted, leaned against the beam of the house, his gaze fixed on the blinding sunlight outside.
“I can’t forget…” Wu Hanshu whispered. “I know… none of you were at fault…”
His voice was very low, almost a whisper: “So many people have died in Linglong Town, but actually… I didn’t do anything wrong…”
“Brother Ying, you will understand… You will understand everything in the future… It was fate. You will remember…”
Ying Heng gently asked, “Why do you say that? I have indeed forgotten many things, Brother. Could you tell me?”
But he waited for a long time and did not receive a response from Wu Hanshu.
Ying Heng lowered his gaze, unable to hear any sound, feel the breeze, or bask in the sunlight—only an overwhelming sense of confusion.
The spirit of Chunying Sword told him, “He is dead.”
Ying Heng didn’t respond.
Chunying continued, “The flower is also dead.”
Ying Heng kept his head lowered, unsure of what he was thinking.
The pot of flowers had only bloomed because of Wu Hanshu’s soul power, and after his death, the flower died with him.
When Sang Dai and the others flew up to the roof, they heard a soft murmur.
She bent down closer to Ying Heng and finally heard what he was saying.
“So, it’s only me left…”
Sang Dai looked over at Wu Hanshu.
His face was covered in black veins, which made him look terrifying, but the corners of his mouth still held a smile.
The flower in his arms had withered, and the inscription on the flowerpot read:
“Planted together in the 13th year of Zhijing.”
Sang Dai didn’t know what had happened between the six of them in Linglong Town, what kind of friendship could make him guard this osmanthus tree for so many years, and after it died, make a deal with the devil, using his soul power to nourish a flower born from the Four Sufferings.
He had waited for the flower to bloom, hoping his old friends would come to fulfill their promise.
But in the end, only Ying Heng had come.
Behind them, a Buddhist monk appeared. Sang Dai turned to look.
Tan Huai had gone to the Zen sect to gather reinforcements to help treat the injured, and he had just returned.
He lowered his gaze at the already-dead Wu Hanshu.
Wu Hanshu had taken his own life. The Four Sufferings had almost consumed his sanity, and he didn’t want to become a madman devoured by the Four Sufferings. So, when he realized he was about to lose his mind a few days ago, he broke his own heart vein and waited in his heavily wounded state for all these days, hoping the flower would bloom.
The Buddhist monk pressed his palms together, bowed his head, and said, “Amitabha.”
Sang Dai suddenly felt a sense of emptiness.
When the flower bloomed, it was Ying Heng who came to fulfill the promise, along with her and Tan Huai—two old friends who came afterward.
Had they all truly reunited, in a sense?