When Shen Feng arrived, only corpses were left scattered everywhere.
Blood flowed across the ground, rainwater washing away the stains, and frost had formed on the bodies because Shen Ciyu possessed a water-element spiritual root; his sword intent was exceedingly cold.
The future master of the Immortal Alliance, the heaven-level spiritual root awakener admired by all in the Immortal Realm, stood in the rain. Heavy raindrops pattered down on him, yet he showed no reaction. He simply stood quietly, as if lost in thought.
His white clothes were stained with a lot of blood. Shen Feng looked left and right, and upon realizing none of the blood was his, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
When he learned that Shen Ciyu had gone alone to hunt down the eight elders of the Sword Sect, he had been so terrified that he dared not delay and rushed to find Shen Ciyu, fearing that this last hope of the Shen family might come to harm.
Now, seeing Shen Ciyu’s pale face, Shen Feng felt his heart ache and throb in pain.
“Ciyu, you haven’t been involved in the Sword Sect’s matters, nor were you even aware of them. As long as the Shen family exists, you can still take the position of the Immortal Alliance master in the Nine Provinces.”
Because, in the Immortal Realm, only two Heaven-grade spiritual root awakeners remained. Zen Sect’s Tan Huai had always been carefree and disdainful of mundane affairs, rarely appearing before others.
That left only Shen Ciyu. Now that he had also slain several of the Sword Sect elders, he had rendered meritorious service. Upon returning, he could succeed as the new master of the Sword Sect, and the position of the next Nine Provinces Immortal Alliance master would undoubtedly be his.
But Shen Ciyu merely lifted his gaze to look at his father standing before him.
He felt very cold—so cold that he couldn’t speak, so cold that he couldn’t hold his sword.
“Father…”
Shen Feng responded, “Ah, ah, child, don’t be like this. Pull yourself together.”
Though Shen Feng wanted Shen Ciyu to become the Immortal Alliance master, in truth, it was because he hoped Shen Ciyu’s path would be smoother in the future. Shen Ciyu was the last hope of the Shen family. The entire Shen family had poured countless resources and effort into him, taking pride in him and serving as his strongest support.
Sending Shen Ciyu to the Sword Sect, placing him under Sang Wenzhou’s tutelage, was also to ensure Shen Ciyu achieved mastery in the path of the sword. Sang Wenzhou was very fond of Shen Ciyu. He only had one disciple, Shi Yao, and no other children. However, Shi Yao was frail and unable to cultivate, so the position of the Sword Sect master would inevitably belong to Shen Ciyu in the future.
But how did things turn out like this?
Shen Ciyu coughed softly, and with each cough, blossoms of blood fell to the ground.
Shen Feng, terrified, rushed to infuse him with spiritual energy.
Upon closer inspection, half of his soul seemed to flee in shock.
“Your… your mental state…”
His mental state had taken a drastic fall.
Shen Ciyu couldn’t remain standing. He dropped to one knee, coughing incessantly.
He couldn’t hold onto his sword; the long sword slipped into the rain-soaked ground, swallowed by the mud.
Shen Feng was trembling as well.
The once immaculate and cold youth had vacant eyes as he murmured, “Father, what did I wield my sword for?”
He lifted his head in confusion, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse as he asked, “I don’t even know what she went through. I still deluded myself, thinking maybe she would come back. Could she really bear to leave those Sword Sect disciples? She always protected them the most.”
“She told me I knew nothing—what she said was true. I truly know nothing.”
“She said I couldn’t protect her, and I truly failed to.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes, yet everyone insists I must live with a clean name.”
Sang Wenzhou had told him that wielding a sword was to protect the peace of the Immortal Realm.
The Sword Sect told him that as a heaven-level spiritual root awakener, as the future master of the Nine Provinces Immortal Alliance, he must remain devoted to the path.
But those who preached virtue had, behind closed doors, done countless filthy and despicable deeds. As the chief disciple of the Sword Sect, he had never once doubted them.
“Every year during the disciple selection, many disciples were brought into the Sword Sect by me. I allowed them to enter.”
Shen Ciyu wept and asked, “Father, tell me, did I send them to their deaths?”
Shen Feng covered his eyes, unable to look at him.
Shen Ciyu had an excellent memory and could recall the names of many disciples. According to the Immortal Alliance’s investigation, nearly one-third of the disciples had once been admitted into the Sword Sect under Shen Ciyu’s recommendation.
Based on their talents and performance, he had assigned them to the elders’ tutelage.
He had brought them in, yet he failed to protect them.
Shen Feng choked back tears. “Ciyu… it’s not your fault…”
Clearly, he wasn’t to blame, but by some cruel twist of fate, everything had ended up tied to Shen Ciyu.
When he saw the names filling several pages of rice paper, Shen Ciyu had coughed up blood and fallen unconscious for over half a month.
When he woke, his mental state had collapsed.
Once a cultivator at the peak of the Nascent Soul Stage, he now likely only retained the early stage of Nascent Soul cultivation.
Shen Ciyu was too much like Sang Dai. Both were soft-hearted and carried too heavy a sense of responsibility.
But Shen Ciyu was also different from Sang Dai. Sang Dai would not wallow in self-pity; even when she realized she had unknowingly protected a group of evil beings, she would draw the Heavenly Thunder without hesitation to bring justice for the wronged disciples before resolutely continuing on her own path—a steadfast and difficult path that she never stopped walking.
Because she knew that she was not at fault. Only by holding her sword tightly could she prevent such tragedies from happening again.
But Shen Ciyu was different. He hated himself. He could not hold his sword firmly, nor could he walk the immortal path. He believed that all the mistakes were his fault, and once he fell, he found it hard to get back up again.
The Shen family and Sang Wenzhou had sheltered him too much. Shen Ciyu had seen too few tragedies, and his life had been smooth sailing thus far. This incident dealt him a nearly devastating blow.
He coughed violently, blood splattering and then washing away in the rain.
His hand in the rain was long and slender, the knuckles turning white from exertion as he trembled, trying to pick up his sword. Yet he could not hold onto it no matter how hard he tried.
Again and again, he picked it up, and again and again, it fell.
Finally, Shen Feng could no longer bear to watch. He bent down to pick up Shen Ciyu’s life-bound sword and handed it to him.
Shen Ciyu gripped his sword but felt cold all over.
“Father… I want to see her…”
“I have to see her.”
—
When Sang Dai returned to the room, Su Xuan had already finished bathing and was lying on the bed.
He was lying on his side, propping his chin up with one hand. His black inner robe was loosely tied, and his handsome brows and eyes carried a teasing expression. He looked at her with a smile on his lips, exuding the charm of a male fox spirit.
“Wife, you’re back?”
Sang Dai wanted to block that mouth of his, which never stopped chattering.
Expressionless, she walked over and placed one hand on top of Su Xuan’s head. The little fox instinctively revealed his ears, but Sang Dai did not rub them.
She channeled spiritual energy to dry his half-damp hair.
“Why didn’t you dry your hair?”
Su Xuan shook his head. “This Sovereign one was born with hellfire; I’m not cold.”
Sang Dai looked at him.
[I knew Dai Dai would help me dry my hair!!!]
Sang Dai: “……”
Su Xuan said, “I just had them bring fresh hot water. Wife, go take a bath.”
[After bathing, come sleep with me.]
Sang Dai: “…………”
She didn’t know how he managed it—his mind was always full of her, his attention always fixed on her, yet his cultivation still managed to reach the Grand Ascension Stage.
That, at least, was something impressive.
After drying Su Xuan’s hair, Sang Dai ignored him. She placed Changmang and Qingwu beside her, turned, and walked toward the bathing room behind the screen.
Perhaps it was arranged deliberately by Qiu Chengxi, but the room they were staying in was quite large, and it even included a private bathing area.
When Sang Dai entered, the steam still lingered, and the water in the pool had already been adjusted to the perfect temperature.
She undressed and sank into the water, letting out a long sigh of relief. The fatigue from a day of travel finally eased somewhat.
Outside, Su Xuan was still lounging on the bed, lazily propping up his head as he asked Qingwu, “How is it following her?”
Qingwu responded excitedly, “Super awesome!!! Dai Dai is super amazing!!!”
Su Xuan looked proud. “Of course. My Dai Dai is the most powerful sword cultivator under the heavens.”
Changmang chimed in, “I agree!”
Qingwu then snuggled up to Su Xuan. “Master, master, every cultivator can form bonds with three life-bound weapons in their lifetime. Why don’t you release me and give me to her?”
Su Xuan sneered coldly, looking at it with disdain. “No way. When Zhiyu wakes up, she’ll get mad. If you two start fighting again, Dai Dai will just end up feeling troubled.”
Changmang chuckled, “Heh heh.”
Qingwu protested, “???”
“I’m not even close to matching that broken sword!”
Changmang refuted, “Zhiyu is very well-behaved. You have such a bad temper, just like the Sovereign. Zhiyu wouldn’t act this way!”
Su Xuan lazily glanced at it. Changmang was forged from his heart’s blood, condensed from his cultivation, so he naturally understood its words.
Changmang let out a low whine, “…Awooo.”
Qingwu grumbled, “But Zhiyu is already shattered!”
Su Xuan smacked it with a palm, “That’s the world’s number one sword, forged from Tianyu Stone. As long as the Guixu exists, it can’t truly shatter. Perhaps with just a bit of Guixu spiritual energy, Zhiyu can awaken again. Now shut up.”
Qingwu whimpered in grievance.
But Su Xuan was a partial master. Magical artifacts often reflected their owner’s nature. Zhiyu Sword had a personality similar to Sang Dai’s—quiet and steady. After fighting alongside her for so many years, perhaps out of fondness for her, Su Xuan also held a particular affection for her sword.
When he learned Zhiyu had shattered, he spent an entire month trying to repair it, but to no avail.
Guixu spiritual energy…
Su Xuan fell into thought. Zhiyu had yet to awaken after so long, and its sword spirit hadn’t dissipated but was instead sleeping within Sang Dai’s Sea of Consciousness.
Could it be… that it was lacking Guixu spiritual energy?
After all, being forged from Tianyu Stone, Zhiyu had an innate connection to Guixu spiritual energy. Back then, just a small piece of Tianyu Stone had been enough to revive Zhiyu’s nearly extinguished sword spirit.
But now, the spiritual veins of the Guixu had been destroyed, and Guixu spiritual energy had long since disappeared. Even the energy stored in that piece of Tianyu Stone was from thousands of years ago. Where could one find Guixu spiritual energy now?
Su Xuan’s brows furrowed. His previously carefree expression darkened again.
Meanwhile, Qingwu and Changmang were chattering noisily as they argued. Su Xuan, irritated, simply stuffed them both into his Qiankun Bag, isolating their spiritual voices with his spiritual energy.
Qingwu and Changmang, now plunged into sudden darkness: “???”
Thinking of Zhiyu, even Su Xuan’s fleeting happiness evaporated.
He picked up Sang Dai’s Qiankun Bag that she had left to the side. It wasn’t warded against him, so he could open it easily.
The broken sword was inside. He retrieved it, sighed as he gazed at the cracks along the blade, and murmured, “If you really care for your master, then wake up soon so she doesn’t have to suffer so much.”
Qingwu was no match for Zhiyu. After all, Zhiyu was Sang Dai’s life-bound sword, deeply connected to her spirit and thoughts, far more synchronized than any other artifact.
When Sang Dai emerged, she saw Su Xuan holding her sword, muttering under his breath.
“Su Xuan, what are you doing?”
The little fox spirit looked up at her.
Sang Dai had just finished bathing. Her normally pale face was flushed red, even the corners of her eyes tinted with a delicate blush. She wore no makeup, yet the steam had painted her with the most natural beauty.