But when did Su Xuan start harboring such thoughts?
Sang Dai couldn’t figure it out either.
The two had known each other for over a century. They had fought countless times over the years, often wanting to strangle each other on sight. Every fight would last for several days. Sang Dai’s cultivation progress had advanced by leaps and bounds, partly because of her combat training with Su Xuan. She had always regarded him as an excellent sparring dummy.
After all, Su Xuan could take a beating, and his cultivation was high.
When Sang Dai was brought back, she thought she would die at Su Xuan’s hands. She had nothing left—her life-bound sword was shattered, her golden core was half-broken, and the once-brilliant sword prodigy had fallen completely. Even her sword sect had abandoned her.
She never expected that, in her most desperate moment, the only one to save her would be her former nemesis.
If it weren’t for the sudden ability to hear his inner thoughts, Sang Dai wouldn’t have believed in a million years that Su Xuan had feelings for her.
Sang Dai closed her eyes, the corners of her lips curling slightly, as if in self-mockery.
But in her current state, she couldn’t reciprocate Su Xuan’s feelings.
“Dai Dai.”
The night before Ying Heng defected, he came to see her.
Flowers filled the courtyard. Sang Dai, only ten years old at the time, stood with her sword, dressed in training attire.
Ying Heng sat on the stone bench in the courtyard. With Sang Dai still being small in stature, their eyes met at the same level.
He ruffled her hair, his expression as gentle as ever, but his gaze was extraordinarily complex.
“Dai Dai, no matter what you face in the future, always remember to follow your own path. Don’t listen, don’t look, and don’t stop.”
“We did nothing wrong. They are the ones at fault.”
The next day, the culprit behind the destruction of the Guixu Spirit Vein and the massacre at Cangwu Daoist Temple was revealed—it was Ying Heng, the Sword Sect Immortal Lord.
The Immortal Alliance deemed him guilty, and Ying Heng revealed his identity as an awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Root, breaking through the encirclement and defecting to the Four Realms, leaving Sang Dai behind.
The Four Realms pursued him relentlessly because of the destruction of the Guixu Spirit Vein.
The spiritual veins that sustained cultivation across the Four Realms all originated from the Guixu Spirit Vein. Ying Heng’s destruction of the Guixu Spirit Vein was akin to severing the cultivation path of the entire cultivation world. Over the years, the Four Realms had been searching for a way to repair the Guixu Spirit Vein; otherwise, the collapse of the Four Realms was only a matter of time.
Later, news came that Ying Heng had died in the Demon Realm. Sang Dai, twelve years old at the time, went to the Demon Realm alone to retrieve his body.
There was nothing left but a few scraps of cloth. She found nothing else, not even Ying Heng’s soul in the Underworld. Everyone said he had completely perished, his soul scattered. As for who killed him, no one knew.
The Four Realms had ordered his pursuit, but who could say who ultimately ended Ying Heng’s life?
Sang Dai buried her face in the brocade quilt.
The book made no mention of Ying Heng or the Guixu Spirit Vein. The entire narrative revolved around Shi Yao and Shen Ciyu, full of romantic entanglements.
She didn’t believe what had happened back then. Ying Heng couldn’t possibly have destroyed the Guixu Spirit Vein or massacred Cangwu Daoist Temple.
But the spiritual marks left in the Guixu Spirit Vein were Ying Heng’s, and the corpses in Cangwu Daoist Temple also bore his spiritual marks. The only ones capable of entering the Guixu Immortal Realm and touching the Guixu Spirit Vein were those who had awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Roots.
And Ying Heng had hidden the fact that he was an awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Root.
Countless pieces of evidence lay before her, convincing the world—and herself—that Ying Heng was the true culprit behind the destruction of the Guixu Spirit Vein and the massacre at Cangwu Daoist Temple. He was the sinner of the Four Realms.
How could Ying Heng possibly do such a thing?
Sang Dai had been entrusted to Ying Heng’s care when she was three years old. Most of her understanding of the world came from him. He was the one who taught her that the sword of a sword cultivator should serve as a shield for the people. He taught her to love all living beings, to cherish the world, and to steadfastly follow her own path.
He was an excellent teacher—gentle, protective, and attentive. He took special care of her, teaching her with unparalleled dedication. While everyone else viewed awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Roots as a sect’s sharp sword, Ying Heng was the only one who allowed her to slack off and tacitly approved of her sneaking off the mountain to play.
Sang Dai covered her face, unable to stop her sobs.
She had searched for so many years, investigated for over a century, yet all the evidence still pointed to Ying Heng. But she had never found his body, and she never believed he was truly dead.
Now, Ying Heng’s Immortal Velvet Grass had appeared in Bairen Alley’s possession, and Shi Yao had acquired a Heaven-Grade Spirit Root.
Where did the Immortal Velvet Grass come from? And whose body had the Heaven-Grade Spirit Root been taken from?
“Master…”
In the vast Beast Palace, only the faint sobs of the sword cultivator remained.
The sound grew weaker and weaker until it finally faded completely. Then, the door was carefully pushed open, and someone walked in.
A cascade of silver hair hung loose, dripping water as the person walked. The wide black robe they wore was damp as well, as if they had just bathed.
Long fingers parted the beaded curtain.
Su Xuan stood outside the bed’s canopy, gazing at the faintly visible figure inside. His long lashes drooped slightly, concealing the emotions in his eyes.
The former sword cultivator had once been highly alert; the moment he approached the Beast Palace, her Zhiyu Sword would fly out and slice off a strand of his silver hair.
But now, after standing outside for so long and even remaining by her side, she didn’t notice a thing.
Su Xuan stood for a long time, torn between wanting to check on her and fearing he might see her crying.
Sang Dai had always been a little monster, one who wouldn’t so much as blink even when her flesh was sliced off. Yet in just one day, he had seen her shed tears multiple times.
He watched her for a while, sighed softly, and finally lifted the bed’s canopy to take a look. The pillow was already damp with tears, and her long lashes still held drops of moisture. Her face was unusually flushed.
Su Xuan reached out and touched her forehead. Unsurprisingly, she was burning up again, her temperature scalding.
He sat by the bed, took out the pill he had just acquired from Liu Lixue, and pressed it to her lips, channeling it into her body with spiritual energy. At the same time, he placed a hand over her clothed torso and used his spiritual energy to smooth out her chaotic meridians.
As he looked at her, Su Xuan couldn’t hold back and murmured, “Dai Dai, I’m sorry.”
He shouldn’t have gone into seclusion.
The night wind blew in through the open window, lifting the bed’s canopy and stirring his silver-white hair.
—
Tianque Mountain, Sword Sect.
Shi Yao hurried forward, followed closely by her mother, Madam Shi.
“Yao Yao, slow down! Your body hasn’t fully recovered yet.”
Shi Yao lifted the hem of her skirt and broke into a light run. Her pink dress fluttered in the air, forming a graceful arc as she stepped into the main hall like a delicate butterfly.
“Senior Brother Shen!”
The white-robed sword cultivator inside the hall stood with his sword on his back, his figure tall and straight. His ponytail was tied high with a jade crown.
He turned around, his features sharp and elegant, exuding a distant and cold aura. His expression was emotionless, his lips tightly pressed together. He looked like a lone gentleman standing amidst frost and snow, untouched by the world.
Shen Ciyu nodded toward Shi Yao and greeted her: “Junior Sister.”
His tone was indifferent, so much so that even Shi Yao noticed something was off. The smile on her face gradually froze.
Madam Shi finally caught up, scolding Shi Yao as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. “You child, why are you running so fast? The moment you heard Ciyu was back, you couldn’t wait to see him?”
At Madam Shi’s suggestive words, Shi Yao’s cheeks turned slightly red, while Shen Ciyu’s finely arched brows furrowed faintly.
Inside the main hall, many people were seated. Sect Master Sang sat on the high platform, his face full of fury, looking thoroughly enraged.
The cold aura surrounding Shen Ciyu was equally unmistakable.
Shi Yao hesitantly asked, “Sect Master, Senior Brother Shen, what’s going on here?”
Sect Master Sang pointed at Shen Ciyu and berated him harshly: “Do you think you’re some kind of bigshot? You’re nothing but a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, and you want to go to Kongsang Realm? Do you have any idea how many demons and demonkin are stationed there right now? The alliance between the Beast Realm and the Spirit Realm has attacked Jade Gate, shattering it! Kongsang Realm is now their domain. What are you going there for?”
Shen Ciyu gripped his sword tightly and replied coldly, “She’s still there.”
“But she’s dead! Her soul lamp has already gone out!” Sect Master Sang slammed the inkstone on the table, hitting Shen Ciyu squarely on the forehead. Blood trickled down from his brow.
“Ah!” Shi Yao exclaimed in alarm and rushed forward, wanting to wipe the blood from Shen Ciyu’s wound.
Shen Ciyu glanced at her.
That glance felt completely unfamiliar, so devoid of emotion that it was chilling. It bore none of the courtesy he once showed her.
Shi Yao froze in place, no longer daring to move.
The blood blurred Shen Ciyu’s vision. He casually wiped at the wound on his forehead and tilted his chin slightly, gazing up at Sect Master Sang and the Sword Sect elders seated on the high platform.
Suddenly, Shen Ciyu asked, “What does an awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Root mean to all of you?”
Sect Master Sang’s expression shifted.
An elder hesitated before replying, “That… naturally, it’s a rare talent. They should be nurtured carefully and will surely safeguard the Four Realms in the future.”
After all, throughout the entire Four Realms, there were only seven awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Roots.
Shen Ciyu continued, “And what does Sang Dai mean to you?”
“Sang Dai… she’s the eldest young lady of the Sword Sect and a distinguished sword cultivator of the Immortal Realm.”
“That’s all she is?” Shen Ciyu’s tone remained flat. “Just the eldest young lady, just a sword cultivator?”
“So when she fought on the frontlines for seventeen days and finally died in Kongsang Realm, you didn’t even bring back her body?”
“In that situation, it was impossible to retrieve her body…”
“Was it impossible, or was it unnecessary?”
Each of Shen Ciyu’s words struck like a blade, sharp and precise.
The elders’ faces turned ashen, Sect Master Sang was livid, and Shi Yao’s eyes reddened as she unconsciously twisted her fingers together.
Shen Ciyu lowered his long lashes, hiding his thoughts from view.
An eerie silence engulfed the grand hall.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low: “Even if she’s dead, she deserves to be laid to rest.”
Shi Yao hurriedly interjected, “Senior Brother Shen, you can’t go there!”
Sect Master Sang slammed the table in anger and shouted, “Shen Ciyu, don’t think that just because you’re an awakened Heaven-Grade Spirit Root, you can act recklessly! If you dare to go to Kongsang Realm, don’t bother coming back to the Sword Sect. If you die there, I won’t save you!”
The elders quickly tried to mediate. “Sect Master, don’t say such things!”
Shi Yao stepped forward to plead, “Sect Master, please persuade Senior Brother Shen!”
Madam Shi also grew upset. “Ciyu, don’t act so impulsively!”
Shen Ciyu gave a slight nod. “Very well.”
He left with his sword, his stance making it clear.
He was determined to go to Kongsang Realm.
Shi Yao watched his retreating figure, her hands clenched so tightly that crescent-shaped marks were left on her palms from her nails.
Madam Shi tried to comfort her in a low voice. “Yao Yao, it’s alright. Your father will stop him. After all, Ciyu is the young master of the Shen family. His family won’t let him go either.”
Shi Yao nodded. “Yes, Mother.”
“Yao Yao, in just one month, the auction at Bairen Alley will take place. Your father has made all the arrangements. Once your spiritual root is enhanced, we’ll discuss your marriage with the Shen family. Don’t overthink it, alright? Listen to your mother.”
Shi Yao forced a smile and nodded. “I understand, Mother. I’m feeling a bit tired and would like to rest now.”
Without waiting for Madam Shi, Sect Master Sang, or the elders to respond, Shi Yao left the hall alone, her figure solitary as she departed.
The elders, who had watched her grow up, were overcome with sorrow at the sight.
On her way back to her courtyard, Shi Yao greeted her fellow disciples with a warm smile, addressing each one as Senior Brother or Senior Sister. Even when encountering ordinary disciples, she remembered their names.
She had always been this way—kind and gentle.
But the moment she returned to her room and shut the door, the smile on her face disappeared.
Her expression turned cold and emotionless, as though she were a different person.
By the window lay a languid spiritual crane. Its green feathers were streaked with red markings, giving it an air of pride and sanctity. With each breath it exhaled faint spiritual flames that flickered faintly.
“Bi Fang,” Shi Yao called softly.
The spiritual crane glanced at her, opened its beak, and spoke in a human voice: “What is it, my lady? Did you overhear something?”
“Shen Ciyu is going to find Sang Dai.”
“But isn’t Sang Dai already dead?”
Leaning against the window, Shi Yao stroked Bi Fang’s feathers. The proud ancient divine beast didn’t even lift its head, allowing her to pet it at will.
“Of course she’s dead. This entire war was orchestrated to ensure her death. She had to die.”
Bi Fang chuckled lightly. “Then what are you worried about, my lady? If Shen Ciyu goes, he’ll only find Sang Dai’s corpse.”
Shi Yao replied coldly, “I’m not worried about Shen Ciyu. If he dies in Kongsang Realm, everything we’ve planned over these years will be for nothing. Shen Ciyu must die—but not now.”
Bi Fang clicked its tongue, rolled over lazily, and began spitting fire. “Sang Dai is already dead. Half of the plan has succeeded. All you need to do now is obtain the Heaven-Grade Spirit Root being auctioned at Bairen Alley, and we can proceed to the next step.”
Shi Yao asked, “What about Shen Ciyu?”
Bi Fang replied, “He won’t die. He hasn’t yet become the leader of the Nine Provinces Immortal Alliance. How could he die in Kongsang Realm? The Heavenly Dao wouldn’t allow it.”
The window was half open, and a gentle breeze blew in, lifting Shi Yao’s hair.
Her bright and lovely face carried a cold expression. With her lashes half-lowered, her pale, slender hand idly stroked Bi Fang’s feathers.
“Bi Fang, I will win, won’t I?”
“Of course the young lady will win.”
—
Notes:
– Bi Fang (毕方): A mythical creature, also known as a divine bird.
– Origin: Classic of Mountains and Seas (Shan Hai Jing), Western Mountains:
“There is a bird resembling a crane, with one leg, red markings, a blue body, and a white beak. It is called the Bi Fang. Its cry is its name. If it appears, misfires will occur in the region.”