“I can’t keep thinking like this, I mustn’t think about it, I must not…”
Abruptly, Duan Junyi drew a dagger and plunged it straight into his own left arm. Bright crimson blood dripped drop by drop onto the ground, while crisscrossing scars covered the length of his forearm.
Whenever memories of the past surfaced, only the physical pain inflicted upon his body could keep him lucid.
Stab after stab pierced into his arm; no matter how he thrust the blade, the characters he carved into his flesh always spelled out two names: “Sang Hua.”
Those two characters were as though engraved deep within his bone marrow, branded directly onto his soul.
Yet, they could never return to the way things used to be. The century-long past upon Yujin Peak could only ever remain a fleeting dream of a floating life.
Slowly regaining consciousness, Sang Hua opened his eyes to find himself situated in an unfamiliar environment. Memories from before he lost consciousness surged back into his mind; as his awareness cleared, sensation also returned, leaving Sang Hua feeling a dull, all-over ache across his entire body.
The wounds on his body had already been tended to and bandaged. Amidst his hazy half-consciousness the previous night, it had seemed as though Duan Junyi were treating his injuries, yet right now, not a single shadow of a person was visible inside the room.
“A-Yi.”
Sang Hua tentatively called out. His throat burned with a searing agony, his voice frighteningly dry and hoarse to the point of barely producing a sound; even when he forced out a call, it remained exceedingly faint.
Hearing movement inside, the person who pushed the door open and entered was a delicate, frail young woman none other than the flower demon Liuhua.
Entering the room, Liuhua first poured Sang Hua a cup of warm tea to soothe his throat. The moment the scorching burn in his throat subsided, Sang Hua asked urgently: “Where is A-Yi? Where is he?”
“We are not privy to Lord Jun’s whereabouts,” Liuhua answered truthfully.
Glancing down at his attire, Sang Hua noticed he had been changed into fresh garments, while the square-victory knot tied around his waist was missing. “Who changed my clothes? Where are they?”
Liuhua retrieved the blood-stained garments Sang Hua had worn the previous night. Inspecting them thoroughly, Sang Hua still failed to find the cord; true enough, Duan Junyi had taken it.
Attempting to circulate the true qi within his body, Sang Hua found, as expected, that all his meridians had been completely sealed off by Duan Junyi. Right now, he was no different from an ordinary mortal.
Duan Junyi had not only sealed away his cultivation base but had also instructed Chong Huai and Jing Li to keep watch over him at Yaotai Mirror, leaving him incapable of even stepping out of this courtyard to go search for Duan Junyi.
The layout of Yaotai Mirror bore an uncanny resemblance to Yujin Peak. Although it lacked the surrounding miles of peach blossom groves enclosing the private residence, an identical massive osmanthus tree stood in the center of the courtyard.
Back when Duan Junyi first arrived at Yujin Peak, seeing the empty courtyard, he had remarked that a courtyard ought to feature an osmanthus tree to truly match the name of Yujin Peak.
Consequently, Sang Hua had planted an osmanthus tree upon Yujin Peak. Whenever Duan Junyi practiced his swordsmanship, it was always beneath the shade of that osmanthus tree.
“You claim that you are an evil spirit who remembers nothing of the past, so why is this place named Yaotai Mirror?” Seated beneath the osmanthus tree, Sang Hua gazed at the familiar scenery of the courtyard, which invariably drew his thoughts back to the days spent on Yujin Peak.
Having drifted off to a shallow sleep beneath the osmanthus tree without realizing it, Sang Hua slumbered until the moon climbed up to brush the willows, jolted awake only by a sudden commotion of shouting and fighting.
Just as Sang Hua managed to steady himself with the tree trunk and stagger upright, two figures were violently hurled down right at his feet. A gray-robed figure wielding a broadsword strode aggressively into the courtyard.
The intruder happened to be an old acquaintance the demon king Xulang, whom Sang Hua had personally imprisoned within the Suppressing Demon Tower a hundred years prior, and whom Duan Junyi had released seven years ago.
Sensing that Xulang harbored ill intent, Jing Li and Chong Huai scrambled up from the ground, swiftly moving to position themselves defensively before Sang Hua.
Although the two youths possessed formidable cultivation, they remained utterly negligible before Xulang. Knowing full well that Xulang was a vengeful and ruthlessly cruel entity, Sang Hua recognized that two children could never hope to block him.
In barely a blink of an eye, the two youths were batted aside once more by Xulang. As the broadsword came slashing down straight toward him, Sang Hua didn’t even attempt to dodge, raising his head to meet the descending blade.
Xulang’s broadsword halted merely an inch above Sang Hua’s head, refusing to descend further.
“Why aren’t you dodging?” Panting heavily, Xulang demanded with rising fury.
A faint smile touched Sang Hua’s lips as he answered calmly: “I couldn’t dodge, and I was wagering that you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Then you won your bet.” Withdrawing his broadsword with a clatter, Xulang finally noticed that Sang Hua’s entire cultivation base had been sealed. “I indeed would never harm a hair on your head.”
The two exchanged a brief smile, leaving Jing Li and Chong Huai staring in blank confusion from behind. Having locked Xulang away for a century, Sang Hua should theoretically have stood as mortal enemies with him.
Yet observing the two right now, they resembled old friends rather than foes.
Glaring fiercely at the two youths who had just been tossed aside, Xulang bellowed: “What are you staring at? I already told you I wasn’t going to slaughter him, told you not to block me, yet you insisted on asking for a beating.”
“Is he really alright?” Unsure of the situation, Jing Li looked toward Chong Huai for help. Seeing that Xulang truly harbored no intent to strike, Chong Huai simply drew his sword and pulled Jing Li out of the courtyard.
Bruised and aching across his back and shoulders, Sang Hua found standing an arduous task, opting instead to slide down and seat himself against the tree trunk as he asked weakly: “You’re finally willing to step foot out of the Suppressing Demon Tower.”
Pausing briefly, Sang Hua raised his head to look at Xulang: “Thank you for protecting my disciple.”
Xulang froze momentarily, offering no response. Sang Hua continued: “Throughout Fuweimen, everyone merely says A-Yi released you from the Suppressing Demon Tower, but back then I left no restriction seals upon your body a mere tower could never contain you. For a hundred years you never left the tower, yet you chose to walk out precisely seven years ago. I can think of no reason other than protecting A-Yi.”
“Xulang, what happened seven years ago? A-Yi has been hiding it from me, are you going to hide it from me as well?”
“I…” Unwilling to meet Sang Hua’s gaze, Xulang lowered his eyelids and spoke in a low voice: “Sorry, I cannot tell you about this.”
Noticing Sang Hua’s darkening expression, Xulang felt a twinge of reluctance in his heart. After a moment of internal debate, he finally spoke: “Seven years ago, right after you entered seclusion, a disciple of the Wanfa Sect fell in love with a member of the demon race and was imprisoned within the Frozen Ice Cave. Your little disciple snuck over to the Wanfa Sect and set the person free. Upon returning, Xi Heng sealed his cultivation and threw him into the Cliff of Repentance.”
“You know how it is everyone in Fuweimen, aside from you, viewed him as a harbinger of disaster. With you away and his cultivation sealed, other Fuweimen disciples went to the Suppressing Demon Tower searching for undomesticated demons. Hearing unintentionally that they intended to use the tower’s demons to deal with your disciple, I followed them to the Cliff of Repentance.”
“Those junior disciples twisted the narrative, falsely accusing the Duan brat of releasing me from the Suppressing Demon Tower. The immortal sects could no longer tolerate him; in his moment of absolute despair, the evil spirit residing within him seized his vessel. The rest, I presume, you already know. Sang Hua, stop clinging to this obsession. Your little disciple died long ago; the one existing now is nothing more than an evil spirit.”
The Cliff of Repentance…
Not a single soul had ever mentioned to him that Duan Junyi had been imprisoned within the Cliff of Repentance. Sang Hua knew that back when Duan Junyi was young, certain sect disciples targeted him maliciously, though those individuals quieted down after being disciplined by him. He never dreamed those people had actually intended to take Duan Junyi’s life.
No!
Quickly processing the details, Sang Hua raised his eyes to lock gazes with Xulang: “You’re joining him in lying to me? It’s true that Fuweimen disciples released demons to harm him, but the matter of the evil spirit is a lie concocted by A-Yi to deceive me. Although my five senses were sealed during seclusion, A-Yi knew how to awaken me; both you and he knew it. If you weren’t forcibly locked in the tower by me, he could easily have awakened me to prove his innocence. Why on earth would he betray the sect and render himself intolerable to the world? The talk of an evil spirit is utterly laughable. A-Yi’s actions nowadays may indeed appear absurd, but I am not so blind as to fail to recognize my own disciple.”
“You…” Ultimately defeated, Xulang let out a long sigh, crouching down before Sang Hua to say: “Believe it or not, all I can tell you is that you will never find your former little disciple again. Although I cannot break the seal locking away your cultivation, I can help you escape the Dome.”
Xulang’s words had barely faded when a streak of sword aura came whistling through the air. Shielding Sang Hua, Xulang dodged the blade’s trajectory, spinning around to see that Duan Junyi had already arrived behind them.
“How do you plan to take him away?” Rage smoldered deep within Duan Junyi’s eyes. “I give you three points of leeway, but that does not give you the right to trespass in my private courtyard and touch my prisoner.”
“You crossed my bottom line the moment you injured him, and you still expect to keep him locked up?” Placing Sang Hua behind his back, Xulang glared furiously at Duan Junyi as the two forces clashed in a silent, tense standoff.
“You two are truly… childish.” Bitterly smiling, Sang Hua stepped right between the two of them.
Fearing that Sang Hua might sustain secondary injuries from their suppressed magical clashes, both men hurriedly withdrew their true qi, the shockwave nevertheless scattering falling leaves across the entire courtyard from the osmanthus tree.
“You really have a death wish!” Hurrying forward to steady the unsteady Sang Hua, Duan Junyi wore an expression of barely contained fury.
Completely unbothered, Sang Hua replied: “If the two of you decide to fight again next time, remember to stand a little further away from me.”
Since Duan Junyi had returned, Xulang knew he stood no chance of successfully taking Sang Hua away today; filled with simmering frustration and lingering reluctance, he departed Yaotai Mirror in a huff.
The moment Xulang vanished, Sang Hua turned immediately to question Duan Junyi: “Where is the square-victory knot? Give it back to me.”
“You mean this ugly trinket?” Drawing a red tassel from his robes, Duan Junyi spun it playfully across his fingers as he asked with deliberate disdain: “Your little disciple gave it to you?”
“Give it back to me!” Reaching out to snatch it back, Sang Hua’s simple movement instantly aggravated the injuries across his back and shoulders, shooting sharp spasms of pain through his frame.
Catching Sang Hua’s hand to immobilize him, Duan Junyi sneered coldly: “The disciplinary elder of Fuweimen, a peerless demon king, and your own talented little disciple every single one of them willing to risk their lives for you. The Yujin Immortal Venerable truly possesses quite a knack for charming people.”
At this moment, the two stood pressed exceedingly close together. Sang Hua distinctly caught the faint scent of sweet osmanthus radiating from Duan Junyi the exact same fragrance he had caught wisp of the previous night. Moreover, he recalled hearing someone call him “Master” the night before; coupled with the osmanthus scent, it firmly convinced him that the events of the previous night were by no means a dream.
Having closed off his five senses during his seven-year seclusion felt to Sang Hua like a deep slumber, yet the world outside had undergone cataclysmic upheaval during those seven years.
Particularly his most familiar little disciple, who had transformed beyond recognition yet the contour of his features right before his eyes, alongside those blinking eyes, remained identical to the boy in his memories.
“A-Yi, why must you speak such insincere words?” Raising his free hand, Sang Hua gently stroked the corner of Duan Junyi’s eye, speaking in a soft murmur: “I don’t believe I ever told you this before, but actually, I discovered long ago that whenever you attempt to deceive me, you invariably blink continuously.”
“On the night the Fuyun Mountain small town was slaughtered, amidst the blazing fire, I heard the Requiem Melody. If you truly were an evil spirit, how could an evil spirit ever listen to the Requiem Melody?”
Knowing Duan Junyi would not speak the truth to him right now, Sang Hua pressed no further, whispering softly: “I know not what hidden hardships you bear, but there is no need to push me away. No matter what karmic debts exist, your master will shoulder them with you. Do not forget—when you entered my discipleship, your master swore an oath never to abandon you.”
Every single time he faced Sang Hua, Duan Junyi felt his heart thrown into utter turmoil. He had no way of knowing whether to feel rejoiced or profoundly despondent at this moment.
Had this happened seven years ago, upon hearing Sang Hua declare he would never abandon him, Duan Junyi would surely have been ecstatic beyond measure; yet right now, his sole desire was to drive Sang Hua away, or even force him to stand as his sworn adversary.
He absolutely could not allow himself to waver.
“The affection between an immortal master and his disciple is truly touching. What a pity this seat is not your foolish little disciple, and you are merely a prisoner of this seat. The Immortal Venerable would do well to recognize his current situation.”
Gritting his teeth, Duan Junyi ruthlessly hoisted the red tassel high into the air, slashing his longsword downward. The square-victory knot woven from red cords fractured and scattered into pieces, leaving only a few tattered remnants of red thread drifting down onto the ground.