A cultivator’s techniques and attack methods could often reveal much about their background and identity.
Sometimes, subconscious reactions and habits honed over years were far more honest than words.
Given Xie Jianbai’s consistent tendency to resolve matters directly rather than through words, Xiao Lang realized it would be difficult to extract any information about his supposed “son” through conversation. Instead, testing him through a sparring match would be the most suitable way to gauge his identity.
Xie Jianbai considered this briefly, nodded slightly, and ended the call.
That night, on the main peak, Yu Chengyan sat in his study, eyes closed, rubbing his nose bridge with his fingers, looking weary.
He didn’t feel as at ease as he had imagined, or rather… he wasn’t truly prepared to oppose Xie Jianbai.
Yu Chengyan had inexplicably traveled to this era. Upon discovering that Yu Wei was still alive and Xie Jianbai had not yet descended to the mortal realm, he had been overjoyed, with no thought of returning. Instead, he aimed to stay and change his mother’s fate.
Determined to find Yu Wei, he knew it would be difficult to enter Xuantian Immortal Sect alone. He recalled his subordinate from the Celestial Realm, Siming Star Lord, and contacted him privately. Siming Star Lord, initially startled at meeting him, ultimately believed him and helped him gain entry into Xuantian Immortal Sect.
Once he found Yu Wei, he became absorbed in the ordinary, everyday life they shared.
It felt like a dream. Even simply watching Yu Wei eat in front of him brought Yu Chengyan immense satisfaction.
Immersed in such days, he had not paid much attention to Xie Jianbai.
Even if Yu Chengyan wouldn’t admit it, deep down, despite his dislike for the man, he still regarded him as a father and never believed Xie Jianbai would truly harm him.
That perception changed abruptly that afternoon during their first encounter: Xie Jianbai was not his father, but a stranger.
The extraordinary traits he carried as a son had been stripped away. Xie Jianbai’s gaze was cold and scrutinizing, devoid of any warmth.
Yu Chengyan realized he was facing not just a distant parent, but the world’s strongest existence—the cold-blooded Sword Venerable who had slaughtered countless demons millennia ago.
His slightest misstep would immediately expose his identity.
He set down his hands and sighed heavily.
At that moment, a breeze blew through the window. Someone was outside.
Yu Chengyan felt no surprise. He pushed open the door and saw Xie Jianbai standing at the courtyard gate, moonlight tracing his sharp profile, making his already unapproachable features even more striking.
“You are Ling Xiao?” Xie Jianbai asked, voice cool and magnetic.
“Yes.” Yu Chengyan crossed his arms, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “What’s the matter?”
He guessed that Xie Jianbai might already know his identity and was curious about the reaction of a man confronted with a suddenly discovered son.
Xie Jianbai paused, standing at the small courtyard gate, respecting the boundary, not stepping in. Yu Chengyan, leaning against the door, offered no invitation either.
He patiently observed Xie Jianbai’s reaction.
Would the man rage? Be incredulous? Or simply strike with a sword?
Xie Jianbai’s expression shifted to confusion, brow furrowed. Then, in a low voice, he said, “Son?”
He looked directly at Yu Chengyan.
“You are my son?”
“…” Yu Chengyan was momentarily silent.
Hearing Xie Jianbai call him “son” felt extremely strange. In the past, only Yu Wei had called him that. Xie Jianbai usually addressed him as “Chengyan” or simply “Yan.”
The distance between them had always been palpable.
“You know you are my son, and yet you harbor resentment. Why?” Xie Jianbai asked, calm but cold.
“Aren’t you all-powerful?” Yu Chengyan replied coolly. “Why do you think so?”
Xie Jianbai lowered his eyelashes, pausing.
“In the past, I would not have children,” he said, gazing at Yu Chengyan, voice even. “So, you come from the future.”
Hearing such an assertion from Xie Jianbai, seemingly impossible to any ordinary person, Yu Chengyan was silent for a moment, unsure how to respond.
“That is impossible,” Xie Jianbai said coldly. “I would never form a relationship with anyone, let alone have a child. How were you born? What do you know?”
A chilling aura suddenly swept toward Yu Chengyan, more a warning than an attack.
Both wished to avoid a scene in the sect and, without thinking, left the main peak.
The mountains and rivers below seemed to shrink under their feet, and in an instant, they were far from Xuantian Immortal Sect. In the next moment, their sword energies collided.
If Yu Chengyan’s sword wind was like bamboo in the night rain full of latent danger—Xie Jianbai’s was the culmination of countless battles, overwhelming and merciless, capable of obliterating all obstacles.
Initially suspecting Yu Chengyan might be a creation of some future manipulations, Xie Jianbai dismissed this notion after observing the young man’s swordsmanship.
Yu Chengyan’s movements mirrored his own style but retained distinct personal flair.
The structure beneath his style was solid, reflecting a sword soul only a true disciple could forge.
This could not have been imitated; it had to have been meticulously taught by Xie Jianbai himself.
The realization struck him—this young man must be his blood, willingly cultivated to inherit his teachings. But how was that possible?
“Xie Jianbai!” Yu Chengyan’s growled voice broke through, “You were distracted during our duel. Do you despise me so much?”
In the past three thousand years, Yu Chengyan had studied ways to counter Xie Jianbai using his usual techniques, though he hadn’t practiced much during the prior two thousand years.
Now, old and new grudges are combined.
Xie Jianbai quickly noticed the subtle shifts in Yu Chengyan’s attack style and realized this counter-strategy could completely neutralize his usual techniques.
They abandoned their magical tests, focusing purely on sword combat.
In an instant, they exchanged blows, appearing evenly matched, yet Yu Chengyan remained composed, devoid of joy at a draw.
Once Xie Jianbai fully understood the intricacies of Yu Chengyan’s countering methods, he pivoted, and Yu Chengyan’s wrist tingled as his sword was forcibly dislodged.
Breathing heavily, he muttered, “Damn it,” but did not falter, strangely satisfied.
He retrieved the flying sword, listening as Xie Jianbai’s cold voice acknowledged, “You have talent.”
“Yes, inherited from you,” Yu Chengyan replied cheekily.
He lifted his head, meeting the moonlit reflection of the blade, Praying Moon, his initiation sword given by Xie Jianbai at age seven.
Now, Xie Jianbai held the Praying Moon to Yu Chengyan’s throat.
“You have talent and inherited my teachings. Yet this is an absurd mistake,” Xie Jianbai said coldly.
“You should never have had a child,” he continued.
“You should not exist.”
Yu Chengyan stood firm, wind whipping around him, staring at the man before him, heart pounding painfully.
The coldness in Xie Jianbai’s voice mirrored words Yu Chengyan remembered from over three thousand years ago.
As a baby, he had been awakened in his cradle by soft winds and the gentle sounds of the house.
The faint conversation of his parents reached him.
“…What do you mean by this?” Yu Wei’s voice remained clear and pleasant.
A short silence, then Xie Jianbai’s cold tone: “Wei Wei, this is a mistake. He should not have been born. It’s not too late to correct it.”
“You mean…”
“Kill him,” Xie Jianbai said harshly.
“Xie Jianbai! Are you mad? If you touch my son, I will make you suffer!”
Xie Jianbai paused, then said, “If this will make you agree…”
He didn’t finish the sentence as Yu Wei’s blows drowned it out.
“Or… send him away,” he added, voice softening, finally more human.
“Not a chance!” Yu Wei yelled. “If you dare harm my son, I won’t care about my own life!”
The infant, unaware of the chaos, cried briefly, then quieted as Xie Jianbai approached the cradle.
Seeing his father, the baby paused, hesitating, staring at him wide-eyed.
Xie Jianbai’s gaze was ice-cold, yet fixed on the cradle, as if peering through time, warning the child of the future in which he would remember his father had once wanted to kill him.
By age twelve, Yu Chengyan had reached the Nascent Soul stage. On that day, long-unresolved questions became clear, yet cast him into a darker abyss.
His father’s demeanor in his memories, stern and silent was due not to strictness alone, but to a hatred that ran deep.
But why? Why despise him enough to wish him dead? What had he done wrong?
Even now, before knowing his mother, Yu Chengyan heard the same words from the sword at his throat.
“I should not exist?” he whispered.
Turbulent winds kicked up dust, grass pressed flat, clothes flared.
Xie Jianbai frowned, sensing Yu Chengyan’s sudden surge in magical power, mixed with a dangerous aura—signs of going rogue.
But this was no ordinary cultivation mistake.
Xie Jianbai looked up sharply. “You cultivate from your inner demons?”
Yu Chengyan ignored him, eyes glowing red, gripping Praying Moon tightly.
“Am I mistaken?” he murmured.
Blood oozed between his fingers, streaking the white blade.
He raised the sword to his throat.
Xie Jianbai, caught off guard, had not yet withdrawn his sword, yet Praying Moon vibrated and stopped at the edge of Yu Chengyan’s throat. No matter how hard the youth pressed, it did not move.
Seeing it hold, Yu Chengyan threw the sword aside. It flung itself away, avoiding the father-son grip entirely.
Stepping forward, eyes blood-red in moonlight, he whispered, “You truly hate me, don’t you? From birth, despising me. When my mother died, I survived. You hate me because of her failing health. You hate that it wasn’t me who died, correct?”
Xie Jianbai frowned, realizing Yu Chengyan was enraged, influenced by inner demons, unable to distinguish reality.
“I am not your father, Ling Xiao. You have mistaken me,” he said coldly.
“Yes, it’s you!” Yu Chengyan shouted.
He leapt like a frantic leopard, fists flying. No tactics, just raw venting.
Xie Jianbai easily blocked him. Yu Chengyan didn’t resist. Eyes red, tears or blood blending, he gritted his teeth, swinging relentlessly.
“You despise me because I embarrass you, because I have no talent, accomplish nothing, can never satisfy you! Then why pretend to care? I don’t need it! You don’t like me, I don’t want to be your son!”
Xie Jianbai’s temples throbbed. He had never seen anything like this. He thrived on order, structure. Yu Chengyan was chaotic, defying every pattern, shouting and flailing.
Xie Jianbai restrained him, pinning his hands to his back and suppressing him with his power.
Yu Chengyan grunted, powerless. Despite being at Nascent Soul stage, Xie Jianbai’s mastery surpassed him, stripping away the inner demon’s force. Pain shot through his forehead.
Even though Xie Jianbai had never allowed him to cultivate from inner demons before, this was far harsher than ever. Yu Chengyan’s mind swirled with nothing but grievance.
What kind of father could be this cruel? Life had already been hard enough, and now worse.
Xie Jianbai observed coldly. Yu Chengyan’s murmurs—“Not your son” and “I hate you”—echoed faintly through the chaotic forest.
Xie Jianbai’s head throbbed further.
He had never encountered such a person, especially one so unguarded. Despite being at the peak Nascent Soul stage, had he fought with full intent, Yu Chengyan might withstand only three moves. Even fully suppressed, he showed no vigilance.
The sheer unconscious openness of the youth bewildered Xie Jianbai, intensifying the killer intent within him.
At that moment, the jade talisman chimed with a soft, tender cat-like mew.
Father and son froze simultaneously.
Xie Jianbai squatted beside Yu Chengyan, retrieving his talisman.
A warm, lively, soft-girlish voice filled the dark forest:
“Ling Xiao, Ling Xiao, what are you doing? I missed you during dinner. Did you miss me too?”
Yu Chengyan, previously chaotic and despondent, gradually regained clarity.
He looked up and saw Xie Jianbai kneeling beside him, fingers closing the talisman.
Moonlight reflected off Xie Jianbai, highlighting his godlike, icy beauty.
“So… this is your mother?” Xie Jianbai murmured, his voice softer, yet more dangerous than usual.
Yu Chengyan stared, heart pounding.
“Father, don’t!” he panicked. “Please, don’t harm her, you’ll regret it!”
Xie Jianbai held the talisman and slowly stood.
“I never regret,” he said, voice cold.