Ever since the mystic realm was polluted, the sect had been swamped with the task of handling numerous disciples contaminated by demonic Qi.
Fortunately, this demonic Qi had only temporarily infiltrated their bodies, posing no substantive threat to spiritual cultivators.
Su Yunyu informed Wenren Li of the day Feng Mingye had disguised himself as Song Chi, though neither could fathom the true objective behind the actions of the Demon Realm’s forces.
They could only instruct the entire sect to heighten their defenses and prevent similar incidents from recurring. Once things stabilized, Wenren Li asked Su Yunyu:
“The pill cauldron has been found. What are your plans moving forward?”
“Naturally, it is to seek the Nine-Heads Spiritual Rhinoceros Grass,” Su Yunyu replied without a moment’s hesitation. Now that his physical condition had recovered, he naturally wanted to act as swiftly as possible.
“…” Wenren Li looked at him with a rather complicated expression:
“You really have grown quite attentive toward your disciple.” With that, he imparted the intelligence he had gathered over the past few days to Su Yunyu:
“Yexiaoxiang, Tianji Pavilion. Since you’ve already decided, you should set off early.”
Thus, acting on Wenren Li’s information, Su Yunyu informed Xiao Shuying of their upcoming departure for Yexiaoxiang.
He had originally intended to travel via teleportation array, but perhaps due to sword flight being all the rage in the sect lately, Xiao Shuying gazed at the Xuehua Sword with a look of profound “yearning”:
“Master, are you capable of sword flight?”
“…”
Sword flight was likely a fantasy shared by anyone who harbored a longing for the immortal path.
Su Yunyu had possessed it once as well, but his memories of dying by the Xuehua Sword in his past life remained far too vivid, leaving him uncertain whether he could properly command the sword spirit.
Consequently, whenever he traveled, he always relied on teleportation or wind-riding, never once entertaining the notion of actual sword flight.
Initially, he wanted to refuse, but meeting Xiao Shuying’s expectant gaze forced him to nod against his better judgment:
“I can.”
He certainly wasn’t going to refuse merely out of fear—that would be utterly disgraceful.
Moreover, since the Dragon-Heaven protagonist held such an intense desire for it, he simply had to find a way to satisfy him.
Though a hint of apprehension still lingered in his heart, seeing how Xiao Shuying’s eyes instantly lit up with brilliance the moment he agreed, Su Yunyu felt much of his tension melt away.
The Dragon-Heaven protagonist was truly so easy to please. Such a small wish—just look at how happy it made him.
Nothing more than sword flight—to Su Yunyu, it’s nothing short of a piece of cake.
Observing his breezy, unruffled demeanor, Xiao Shuying raised an eyebrow in silent skepticism.
Clearly, he wasn’t particularly fond of wielding the Xuehua Sword, yet he had agreed with such nonchalant ease.
True sword flight demanded absolute harmony between the master and the sword spirit.
If the master detested the sword spirit, they wouldn’t choose sword flight; if the sword spirit refused to submit to the master, the master could never maintain complete control over the flying blade.
Therefore, he was rather curious to witness how Su Yunyu intended to pilot this peerless legendary sword. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end up like his previous life…
Having managed to conquer his terror of the Xuehua Sword with great difficulty over recent days, Su Yunyu felt his anxiety spiking once more.
He raised a hand to summon the sword. Instantly, spiritual energy surged; seven glowing pearls adorned the hilt, and a snowy, moon-bathed radiance gleamed along the blade—an unquestionably peerless, supreme treasure.
With the spiritual sword in hand, the next step was sword flight…
Attuned to its master’s intent, the sword spirit obediently and gracefully lowered itself close to the ground, awaiting command.
The display elicited a silent inward praise from Su Yunyu, prompting the Xuehua Sword resting by his feet to quiver in a nearly imperceptible tremor of delight.
Unable to bear watching Su Yunyu hesitate and stall any longer, the system stoked the fire within his sea of consciousness:
[Dawdling and dithering! If you’re terrified, just admit you’re terrified instead of putting on a brave face.]
“Who’s terrified?!” Provoked by the system’s mockery, Su Yunyu flared up instantly. Stepping onto the sword with dramatic, imposing flair, he extended a hand toward Xiao Shuying:
“Come up, and hold onto me tightly.”
Completely bewildered by how rapidly the man’s demeanor shifted, Xiao Shuying nonetheless complied, though with a distinct reluctance as he wrapped his arms around Su Yunyu’s waist.
He was already beginning to regret his own suggestion. Teleportation would have been infinitely better; instead, this arrangement forced him to press flush against Su Yunyu’s body.
And… stretching his arms around the waist, Xiao Shuying was abruptly struck by how slender and delicate the man’s waist felt beneath his grasp. A strange, uncanny sensation coiled through him, leaving him profoundly unsure of how to position his arms.
Of all things, he despised physical contact with Su Yunyu the most. Every time he drew near, the man carried a cool, lingering fragrance that drifted like swirling wind and drifting snow, invariably leaving his own garments infused with the identical scent.
Furthermore, Su Yunyu perpetually maintained that aloof, otherworldly celestial posture, high upon an untouchable pedestal. Whenever Xiao Shuying looked upon him, an insidious urge always bubbled up to tear away that pristine facade and witness the raw, unfiltered truth beneath.
Now, forced by the mechanics of sword flight to press intimately against Su Yunyu, Xiao Shuying wore a scowl of pure irritation, thoroughly cursing himself for lifting a rock only to drop it on his own toes.
“Hold tight.”
Su Yunyu’s ethereal voice floated from ahead. The next instant, the sword body surged forward with the momentum of a force cleaving open the heavenly gates, shooting into the sky like an arrow released from a drawn bow.
The sudden onslaught of weightlessness forced Xiao Shuying to tighten his grip around Su Yunyu’s waist for dear life. Once his senses adjusted and the vertigo faded, he relaxed slightly, only to realize that Su Yunyu’s entire body was locked in a state of rigid, agonizing tension.
Strange, am I imagining things? Xiao Shuying flexed his arms slightly, verifying that the person leading their flight against the howling wind was genuinely stiff as a board.
Soaring high above the clouds, winds billowing through their robes, Su Yunyu remained clad in his customary white garments, their frantic flapping continuously pressing backward against Xiao Shuying.
The unceasing whistling of wind and whipping cloth battered his ears. Brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, Xiao Shuying peeked forward, only to find that Su Yunyu had his eyes tightly shut, his lips pressed so hard together in stark terror that he didn’t even dare to look down.
Could it be… does Su Yunyu suffer from a fear of heights?
The novel discovery curled the corners of Xiao Shuying’s lips upward into a malicious smirk. Raising his voice to shout loudly against the gale, he deliberately provoked him:
“Master, it feels a bit slow. Can we go any faster?”
“柏——”
While desperately struggling to endure the overwhelming anxiety induced by the terrifying vertigo—his heart hammering frantically against his ribs—Su Yunyu was startled into an involuntary shudder by the sudden shout behind him. Upon registering the content of Xiao Shuying’s words, he came within a hair’s breadth of weeping openly into the rushing wind.
He possessed a severe fear of heights. At this dizzying altitude, the mere thought of looking down paralyzed him with panic; consequently, he could only keep his eyes half-closed, reserving a microscopic sliver of peripheral vision solely to steer their general direction.
He had expected that enduring it with patience for a brief moment would grant him sweet release; instead, Xiao Shuying actually had the audacity to complain that they were moving too slowly!
Darn it, I refuse to be looked down upon by the Dragon-Heaven protagonist!
Forced to conquer his vertigo through sheer, desperate willpower, Su Yunyu mentally urged the Xuehua Sword to accelerate.
Seemingly eager to please its master, the sword spirit interpreted the command and instantly launched into maximum overdrive.
The head-on wind intensified a thousandfold in an absolute instant, battering Su Yunyu so fiercely that he couldn’t even keep his eyelids cracked open.
Wait, wait, wait—this is getting way too fast!
Slow down, slow down—!
Regrettably, the Xuehua Sword had apparently poured too much momentum into its acceleration burst. Receiving a frantic command to slow down now, it struggled to brake, completely unable to halt its momentum in time.
Through a narrow slit of vision, Su Yunyu caught sight of a stray bird darting across their path. Completely forgetting that he possessed the capacity to adjust their flight trajectory, panic seized him entirely—
In the next split second, amidst mutual panic shared between master and sword spirit, the Xuehua Sword tilted sharply and pitched downward in a near-vertical nosedive toward the forest canopy below.
A violent rush of weightlessness struck them instantly—a sensation as terrifying as plunging down the absolute apex of a roller coaster, multiplied tenfold in sheer, raw intensity.
If not for the presence of Xiao Shuying clinging to him, Su Yunyu genuinely would have let out a blood-curdling shriek of pure terror.
Had he possessed the presence of mind to calmly regain control of the Xuehua Sword, he might have gracefully salvaged the situation.
Alas, Su Yunyu had completely unraveled, and the Xuehua Sword had thoroughly lost its mind, carrying both passengers plummeting at breakneck speed straight into a dense thicket of trees.
Crash—!
A flock of startled birds erupted into the air, beating their wings in frantic panic.
Covered from head to toe in aching bruises, Su Yunyu felt as though every single bone in his body had been shattered. Fortunately, his protective spell had deflected the worst of the impact; otherwise, he truly would have perished right here in this forest, humiliatingly slain by an episode of disastrous sword flight.
Though his life was spared, his body ached as though he had just been thoroughly beaten with a club, and to make matters worse, someone was currently pinning him to the ground…
Wait! Xiao Shuying!
Abandoning all thoughts of his own physical pain, Su Yunyu bolted upright, only to discover that Xiao Shuying had indeed cushioned his fall directly on top of him.
It’s over. I’ve gone and crippled the Dragon-Heaven protagonist.
Just as Su Yunyu sat paralyzed with dread, Xiao Shuying let out a muffled cough, slowly flexed his limbs, and pushed himself up into a sitting position.
For a long moment, absolute silence hung between the two of them.
Only the startled birds, having circled back to land upon the branches overhead, fluttered their wings and peered down curiously at the pair below.
It was Xiao Shuying who finally broke the silence, averting his gaze to ask:
“Is Master unharmed?”
He had underestimated the situation. He knew Su Yunyu likely lacked proficiency in sword flight, but he had never imagined the man could bungle it to such a catastrophic degree.
Even an ordinary outer-sect disciple’s basic proficiency would easily eclipse this disastrous performance.
Consequently, he had ended up battered and bruised all over, feeling as though every rib was fractured. If he hadn’t cleverly used Su Yunyu’s body as a human cushion to absorb the worst of the ground impact, he might well have died right here, victimized by Su Yunyu’s abominable piloting skills.
A deep wave of lingering regret washed over him—why hadn’t he simply allowed himself to hit the ground first?
In the next moment, Su Yunyu’s weak, trembling voice drifted to his ears:
“It is entirely due to my lacking swordsmanship that I have implicated you.”
As he spoke, he reached out to grab Xiao Shuying’s wrist, instinctively channeling spiritual energy to heal the boy’s injuries. Realizing what was happening, Xiao Shuying paused in his lingering regret, watching the pale, guilt-ridden face of the man before him. His chest tightened in an inexplicable knot.
Even in such a disastrous scenario, the man’s first instinct was still to worry about his well-being.
Is this supreme acting, or absolute, genuine sincerity?
If he hadn’t lived through ninety-eight bloody lifetimes of ruthless betrayal, he genuinely might have fallen for the latter.
“It’s all my fault,” Xiao Shuying swallowed his complicated emotions, mimicking a level of weakness and frailty that easily surpassed Su Yunyu’s:
“If I hadn’t asked Master to fly faster, none of this would have happened.”
He had merely wanted to make Su Yunyu look even more foolish, never anticipating that the man would completely lose control of the flight.
From this day onward, he swore he would never, under any conceivable circumstances, ask Su Yunyu to take him sword-flying ever again—it was quite literally a brush with death.
“Do not blame yourself,” Su Yunyu forced an unnatural smile.
The sheer wave of internal humiliation already outweighed his physical pain. If he had known his piloting skills were this catastrophic, he never would have boasted.
Now look at this mess—not only had he crashed the Dragon-Heaven protagonist into the dirt, but he had thoroughly shattered his reputation as the number one person under heaven.
Just as an intensely awkward silence settled between them once more, the rhythmic thunder of approaching hooves and the rustling footsteps of a large group echoed from nearby, heading straight in their direction.
Hastily donning his sparrow-patterned mask, Su Yunyu pulled Xiao Shuying to his feet. Just as they steadied themselves, the vanguard of the group rode into view on horseback, reigning in his mount to shout:
“We heard a tremendous crash just now. Did something happen here?”
Clearly, the commotion of their fiery descent had drawn unwanted attention.
This only added a fresh layer of mortification to Su Yunyu’s embarrassment, though Xiao Shuying simply cast a calm, calculating glance at the insignia embroidered upon the strangers’ garments, stepped forward, and smoothly seized control of the narrative:
“We lost our way, and when I climbed a tree to get our bearings, I accidentally slipped and fell down. Apologies for the disturbance.”
Su Yunyu: “…”
I honestly never knew the Dragon-Heaven protagonist possessed such stellar improvisational skills alongside his usual timid exterior.
“I see,” the horseman scanned the two figures up and down before offering an invitation:
“Our master is currently heading into the city. Since you’ve lost your way, you are welcome to travel alongside our entourage.”
Su Yunyu instinctively wanted to refuse, but Xiao Shuying immediately piped up:
“That would be wonderful; thank you so much.”
Turning toward Su Yunyu—who was standing frozen in clear bewilderment—Xiao Shuying blinked innocently, lowered his voice, and deliberately addressed him with a sweet, affectionate hook:
“Big brother, what do you think?”