Even after sitting atop Fu Xingyun’s natal saber, Qin Zhizhi’s mind remained a chaotic mess.
Images of Xie Yutai’s final appearance kept flashing in her mind, how he had staggered as he stood up from the ground, his back straight, yet his steps halting involuntarily.
His collar was stained with dust, and his sleeves were soiled with blood.
He had looked so disheveled, so utterly lost.
Why? How could that be?
That was Xie Yutai, after all.
The once-in-five-centuries celestial genius, the world-renowned, cold and detached “minor banished immortal,” the undisputed number one sword cultivator among the younger generation in the cultivation world.
He had once faced six high-level spiritual beasts (equivalent to the Golden Core stage) all by himself. Even with his sword blade stained with blood and his robes in disarray, no one had ever thought Xie Yutai looked disheveled. Clutching Hantian, his steps remained unyielding, his figure straight, a warrior who would never fall.
He had also engaged in back-to-back duels against all kinds of sword cultivators at the peak of Wenjian Peak, fighting for three days and three nights without sleep. Back then, though his brow was knitted and his sleeves were torn, no one would have deemed him weak or easy to bully. His biting sword intent surpassed physical limitations, leaving everyone too intimidated to draw near, completely inviolable.
But… why?
How could he end up like this, and how could he actually utter the words “don’t go”?
In the past, the one who constantly said “don’t go” was always Qin Zhizhi.
“Don’t go, Xie Yutai.”
“Xie Yutai, wait for me.”
Before Xie Yutai went to the Kunlun Grotto-Heaven, because he was unwilling to take her with him, Qin Zhizhi had said exactly that.
Clutching the corner of his sleeve, her dark, grape-like eyes brimming with grievance, she had pleaded pitifully: “If you leave, I won’t be able to see you for a very long time.”
She had begged in a small voice: “Don’t go, please.”
And pulled gently at his sleeve: “If you must go, take me with you.”
Qin Zhizhi thought in a daze, Xie Yutai had also said, “You promised.” What had she promised? What could have made the world’s number one sword cultivator so obsessed with it?
Well, it was probably the matter of returning to the Guiyuan Sect together. Xie Yutai wanted her to act as his witness, and Qin Zhizhi indeed had promised him.
Since it involved his reputation, he must have cared deeply about it.
But it still felt incredibly strange.
Qin Zhizhi pressed a hand over her heart. For some reason, she felt a heavy tightness there, as if a wall had been erected inside her, nothing could get out, and nothing could get in, leaving her utterly suffocated.
Fu Xingyun’s style of flying on his saber showed absolutely no tenderness or consideration for her. The surrounding scenery blurred past like it was playing at triple speed, making her head spin and ears ring. Even though she was already at the Foundation Establishment stage, she could barely handle such reckless travel. She exhaled sharply, only to immediately receive a face full of freezing wind. Unable to stop herself, she coughed violently several times, quickly closing her eyes to steady her breath.
“Um, Sect, Sect Master Fu,” The moment she opened her mouth, her voice was torn to shreds by the wind.
Fu Xingyun’s voice drifted back from the front, perfectly steady: “Shut up if you don’t want to be thrown down.”
Qin Zhizhi: “…”
Senior Brother, you’re going to lose me if you keep this up, okay?
But speaking at this moment was indeed unwise. Having swallowed a bellyful of cold wind, she was already feeling rather uncomfortable, so she obediently kept her mouth shut.
To be honest, she had always viewed herself as a mere tool to complete her tasks, so she couldn’t say she had any deep affection for this world. In fact, she had actively avoided interacting with too many people and never thought about making friends. Sometimes, even the system felt she was too much of a slacker and a tool, trying to give her “vacations” to go out, have fun, and meet people, but she had rarely bothered.
After all, as a character bound to push the plot forward, she was destined to die. While death meant a fresh start for her, it was ultimately rather cruel to everyone else.
But there were two people she could never avoid: one was Xie Yutai, and the other was Fu Xingyun.
The former was her target, while the latter was her emotional anchor here.
Occasionally, she would forget her identity as a task-bound transmigrator in front of Fu Xingyun, allowing herself to wantonly believe she truly was the Qin Zhizhi of this world.
After her rebirth, Qin Zhizhi felt like a piece of duckweed, drifting aimlessly. Yet, whenever she thought of Fu Xingyun, she felt a sense of peace. She had wanted to return to the Tiantong Sect ever since the moment she woke up.
Even if it was just to be an ordinary disciple and start all over again.
With Fu Xingyun traveling at a breakneck speed, it didn’t take long for the two of them to return from the Guiyuan Sect to the Tiantong Sect.
Unlike the cold, stark peaks of the Guiyuan Sect, the Tiantong Sect was nestled amidst mountains and rivers, with green willows and singing orioles. The sect featured elegant pavilions, terraces, green tiles, and layered eaves.
Fu Xingyun landed directly in front of the main hall, grabbing Qin Zhizhi and walking inside. His two personal disciples were guarding the entrance. Upon seeing their master land, they hurriedly stepped forward to greet him: “Master.”
But when their eyes fell on Qin Zhizhi, both of them froze.
Qin Zhizhi, seeing their almost identical faces, couldn’t help but purse her lips to hide a smile.
Fu Xingyun had only ever taken two disciples, a pair of boy-girl twins: the elder sister, Pei Lanzhou, and the younger brother, Pei Songzhou. Both possessed single metal spiritual roots and outstanding talent. Born with exceptionally delicate features, their genders were almost indistinguishable, looking like the pure altar children flanking the Goddess Guanyin.
Over all these years, Qin Zhizhi had never been able to tell any physical difference between the two. However, she could easily distinguish them by their temperaments.
The sister, Pei Lanzhou, was mature, cold-faced, and carried an aura of aloofness. The brother, Pei Songzhou, was lively, talkative, and highly approachable. Usually, it was the sister who lectured the brother.
Even so, when both of them had their high ponytails tied up, radiating youthful energy, and both wore identical expressions of dazed shock, Qin Zhizhi’s vision blurred, unable to tell who was who.
They looked like a literal copy-paste job. How did they grow up to look so identical?
Fu Xingyun flicked his sleeve: “Keep watch outside, you two.”
Pei Lanzhou and Pei Songzhou obediently assented and stepped aside.
One of them couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at Qin Zhizhi.
Yep, that one is definitely the younger brother, Pei Songzhou.
Fu Xingyun led Qin Zhizhi into the main hall without saying a word. He unclasped his white cloak, casually tossing it aside to reveal a neat, sharp-looking blue robe with cloud patterns.
First, he unhurriedly poured himself a cup of tea, watching the steam rise in elegant curls. He waved his hand a few times to fan it, then calmly held the teacup, rubbing its rim as if it were some priceless treasure.
Since Fu Xingyun didn’t speak, Qin Zhizhi felt a bit uneasy, watching him expectantly. Since when did my Senior Brother become so fond of tea? He was never one for such refined pursuits before.
After ignoring her for a while, Fu Xingyun finally spoke slowly: “Speak for yourself.”
So concise. What exactly did he want her to say?
Qin Zhizhi scratched her head.
After tilting her head in thought for a moment, she decided to play it safe and stay under the radar: “This humble girl is the eldest daughter of the Wudu City Lord, Qin Zhizhi.”
Thud! Fu Xingyun slammed the teacup heavily onto the table. Tea spilled over the rim, snaking across the wood and leaving a wet stain.
“Not that.”
Fine, if not that, then maybe this.
Qin Zhizhi rolled her eyes playfully: “I was saved by the disciples of the Heguang Sect in Fotan. Afterward, we unfortunately ran into the ghost cultivator Dan Wuning. Immortal Lord Xie Yutai happened to pass by and saved us, which is how we met.”
Slam! Fu Xingyun brought his palm down heavily on the table. The loud bang echoed right to her heart, leaving Qin Zhizhi dumbfounded as she stared straight at him.
She knew Fu Xingyun had a fiery temper, but who was this rage actually directed at?
Could she have said the wrong thing again?
Fu Xingyun rested his chin on his hand, his glaze-like eyes clearly reflecting Qin Zhizhi’s figure. He said word by word: “Think again. Speak. Very. Carefully.”
“…” Qin Zhizhi was speechless.
My brother, please just give me a straight answer, or would you prefer to just stab me?
“Sigh,” she let out a sigh. “What exactly do you want to hear?”
She would say whatever he wanted to hear, alright?
A subtle glint flashed through Fu Xingyun’s eyes. He leaned forward slightly over the table, invisibly closing the distance between them. After studying her for a moment, he abruptly stood up.
“Follow me.”
Qin Zhizhi didn’t make a sound, quietly following behind him.
Fu Xingyun had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs. With every stride covering what felt like meters, he marched forward without looking back. Poor Qin Zhizhi, with her short arms and legs, had to trot just to keep up.
Behind the side door of the main hall lay a long, narrow corridor. A cold draft blew from somewhere, sending a chilly shiver down her spine.
Others might not be familiar with this place, but Qin Zhizhi knew it like the back of her hand.
At the end of the corridor was a room housing the portraits of the past sect masters of the Tiantong Sect. Here hung the portraits of ancestors who had ascended, as well as those who had fallen.
Among them was Qin Zhizhi’s father, the previous Sect Master of the Tiantong Sect, Qin Mingxiu.
Fu Xingyun didn’t often mention Qin Mingxiu. But whenever Qin Zhizhi became too mischievous or unmanageable, he would get so angry that he would drag her into this room and make her kneel before her father’s portrait to reflect.
The last time she had been brought here, the rumors outside had already turned rather ugly. Everyone said that Xie Yutai practiced the way of heartless sword cultivation and had rejected the Tiantong Sect female cultivator multiple times, yet she remained shameless and kept clinging to him.
With Xie Yutai showing no response whatsoever, Fu Xingyun had been incredibly frustrated. He had grounded her directly, forbidding her from leaving the house. But how could a simple grounding stop Qin Zhizhi? Especially when she had a system on her side.
Once, Qin Zhizhi had slipped out to find Xie Yutai, only to run straight into Fu Xingyun upon her return. He hadn’t said a single word, simply leading her into this room.
Qin Zhizhi had knelt for a whole day and night.
In the end, it was Fu Xingyun who pushed open the door, entering with a cold face to ask: “Must you marry Xie Yutai?”
Qin Zhizhi had said resolutely: “Yes. In this lifetime, I will marry no one but him.”
Without a word, Fu Xingyun had swept his sleeve and left, letting the matter go.
After that… came the Kunlun Grotto-Heaven, where she survived by a hair’s breadth and reached the critical point of her mission.
And now, she was back in this room once again.
With a wave of Fu Xingyun’s sleeve, the doors swung open, revealing the portrait of Qin Mingxiu directly facing the entrance. The man in the painting had resolute eyes and an imposing, majestic air, looking down upon the entire room.
This was Qin Mingxiu.
He had once been the most powerful cultivator on the continent, only a single step away from ascension, but had perished during his tribulation, his soul scattering under the nine heavenly lightning tribulations.
At that time, Qin Zhizhi was only five or six years old, running amok and causing trouble all day. Fu Xingyun had also been a mere youth, fond of mischief. After learning of his master’s death, he had stood in a daze for a long time. Ultimately, with red-rimmed eyes, he had taken Qin Zhizhi’s hand and, with the assistance of other elders, shouldered the weight of the Tiantong Sect.
Seeing the familiar furnishings of the room, Qin Zhizhi’s heart tightened, beating like a drum.
Why did Fu Xingyun bring her here? Such a sacred sect ground wouldn’t even be known to ordinary disciples, let alone accessible…
Fu Xingyun stepped into the room first. Looking up at the portrait of Qin Mingxiu with his hands clasped behind his back, he stood still.
Hearing the sound of Qin Zhizhi entering the room, he didn’t turn around. He simply spoke:
“Kneel.”
His voice was like a vast, boundless ocean, faintly concealing a towering, turbulent wave.