Ink-black darkness shrouded the sky, and heavy snow blanketed the ground. In the distance, golden-red lanterns flickered and shone brilliantly, and it seemed one could still faintly hear joyful laughter. Atop the high cliff, however, a cold wind howled, and the goose-feather snowflakes beat down so hard that one could barely keep one’s eyes open.
“Clang—”
In the ink-thick night, a snow-white sword light suddenly flared. Shen Budu sidestepped a sword strike, and when he made out the face in the shadows, his mind shook violently. “You—”
The person did not answer. The sword light, laden with killing intent, came at him again!
There was a “pfft,” a sound subtler than falling snow. The sword tip pierced flesh, and blood gushed out along the long blade, dripping drop by drop onto the snowy ground, as gorgeous as a burning lotus lantern.
“Master.” The hand gripping the hilt was slender and strong, cold and pale, without a trace of warmth. “…I’m sorry.”
****
It was noon, with the scorching sun directly overhead.
The blazing light baked the earthy-brown ground until it nearly smoked. Nearby was a half-dried pond, where a few toads hid beneath withered lotus leaves, croaking listlessly in answer to the faint cicada calls from the distant trees.
Shen Budu lay motionless by the roadside, staring at a bald-feathered bird slowly flying across the sky. After a long while, he finally confirmed one thing:
He had died and come back to life.
Shen Budu was a top-tier great figure known to everyone in the cultivation world, and he carried countless dazzling halos and legendary colors. At sixteen, he had become famous in a single battle, his sharpness fully revealed. At twenty, he had succeeded as sect leader of the Tianya Canghai Sect, shaking the entire realm. At twenty-five, he had led the cultivation sects to repel the Ghost Race and had been revered as the Immortal Leader. At twenty-six, he had reached the top of the Wind and Cloud Ranking, becoming the well-deserved number one master under heaven.
He had been blazingly illustrious, with unrivaled prestige. In reputation and standing within the cultivation world, there had been no second person who could stand shoulder to shoulder with him.
Yet none of that mattered anymore, because at the age of twenty-eight, on the night of the Yuanxi Festival, he had died.
He had been killed jointly by the senior disciple he had taught with such care, the younger brother he had grown up with, and the good friend with whom he had regarded each other as a soulmate.
Separated by a lifetime, all those glamorous splendors and bustling festivities had receded like the tide, gradually growing blurry and pale. Only certain fragments remained as vivid as ever, deeply branded into his mind and replaying back and forth without a moment’s pause: the snow-bright sword light striking head-on in the dark night, the violent wind and snow sweeping and howling atop the cliff, the ancient killing formation emitting a scarlet glow, the savage, contorted faces twisted until they were strange and unrecognizable…
Perhaps the weather was simply too hot, for Shen Budu suddenly felt a tightness in his chest and shortness of breath. He sighed softly, closed his eyes again, and went on being a salted fish lying by the roadside, about to be roasted into dried fish.
When he had first regained consciousness, Shen Budu had realized that this was not his own body. The owner of this body had only just died, and the corpse was still warm. Somehow, this wandering soul of his had muddle-headedly occupied another person’s shell.
Anyone else, having fallen at the height of their glory and then unexpectedly received a chance at rebirth, would probably have been overjoyed, wishing to rise again at once, take revenge, trample everyone who had betrayed them underfoot, and launch a rousing war of vengeance.
But Shen Budu had no such intention.
He only felt that it was all so pointless.
People had always said that Shen Budu was the person standing highest in the whole world, and that he had obtained everything: cultivation, status, reputation, wealth, fortuitous encounters… Every one of them had been at the pinnacle, to a level others could not reach even by exhausting their entire lives. He, too, had once thought that his life had been rather good, but he had never imagined it would end like this.
People’s hearts are hard to read, and people’s hearts change easily.
Or was it that for whatever a person gained, they had to lose something else in equal exchange?
His body was abnormally exhausted, his breathing grew more and more difficult, and his throat was so dry and painful it felt as if it would smoke. This body belonged to an ordinary person, one who had not built a spiritual foundation or formed a spiritual core. It seemed to carry some old injuries too, and having been roasted under the blazing sun for so long, it was clearly about to reach the point where breath went out and none came in.
But… that was fine too.
Shen Budu thought.
He had no interest in living a second time anyway. It would be better to stop breathing early, so that this good brother could be laid to rest in peace, and both sides would be happy.
With that thought, he relaxed his body and mind even more calmly. His hands were crossed neatly over his abdomen, and he threw himself wholeheartedly into waiting for death.
……
“Uncle Song, how much longer until he wakes?”
“This young master has been unconscious for three days, but his injuries have improved since the medicine. I estimate he should be waking up about today.”
“Brother Xingyu, this big brother is so good-looking. His eyelashes are so long, oh.”
“Hiss… Sanbao, don’t touch him, be careful not to disturb him—”
Shen Budu had already been disturbed.
He had felt that someone had been whispering by his ear the whole time, noisy and annoying, and his eyelashes were being touched and teased until they itched unbearably, so he simply opened his eyes.
The three heads before him were all startled and jerked backward in unison, then their faces bloomed with deep joy, and they said with one voice:
“You’re awake!”
Shen Budu’s expression did not change. In the space of a single breath, he had already quickly sized up the three strangers before him.
The oldest man carried the bitter, clean fragrance of medicinal herbs, and the green sap of plants lingered between his fingers. The moment he saw Shen Budu open his eyes, he reached out to take his pulse. He should be a physician.
The half-grown youth of fourteen or fifteen looked slightly nervous, yet his complexion was ruddy, his eyes were clear and bright, and his spirit was full. There were thin calluses on the tiger’s mouth of his hand, so it was evident that he was someone who had practiced martial arts for years.
The child lying beside his pillow looked only four or five years old, but he spoke clearly and his expression was lively. His eyes held a clarity and intelligence unlike those of children his age. Either he had been raised from infancy on heavenly treasures and earthly riches in a wealthy family, or else this child was not human.
The three had no idea that they had already been seen through in a single glance, and were only delighted that the young man before them had awakened. Song Yifan withdrew his hand, let out a breath of relief, and said with a smile, “It’s good that you’re awake! How are you? Is there anywhere else that feels unwell? Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?”
He asked several questions in one breath, and the concern in his tone was not false. Although surviving had not been Shen Budu’s wish, with his upbringing and character, he would never lose his temper at someone who radiated goodwill toward him without distinguishing good from bad. So he smiled slightly and said softly, “I’m fine. You were the ones who saved me, weren’t you? Thank you.”
Song Yifan waved his hands repeatedly. Noticing that his voice was a little hoarse, he told the youth to fetch him a cup of water. The youth went at once, briskly, and when he returned he found that Shen Budu had already sat up in bed and was quietly staring at him. He was suddenly at a loss, nearly spilling the water in the cup, and with a slightly reddened face he handed it over and said nervously, “Please, please drink.”
Shen Budu accepted the water and thanked him, then lowered his gaze and stopped looking at him. Only then did the youth stop being so tense. His fingers pinched the corner of his clothes, and he quietly let out a breath.
Compared with the youth’s reserved shyness before a stranger, the little child beside them was far livelier and bolder. He used his short, plump, fair, tender fingers to point at the three people one by one, and introduced them in a soft, gentle voice. “My name is Ruan Ruan, my pet name is Sanbao, and I’m four years old now. This is Brother Li Xingyu, and this is Uncle Song Yifan. We found you passed out by the pond, so we brought you back.”
Song Yifan added gently, “I’m a mediocre doctor. Seeing that you had some injuries and that your pulse was very weak and floating, I gave you some medicine. Now that you’re awake, that’s good. Young master, would it be convenient to tell us your name and where your home is? Once you’ve rested well, we’ll send you back.”
The young man before them had collapsed by the roadside in a wretched state, yet the clothes on his body were exquisitely made, and his whole person gave off a steady, composed air. He must have come from no ordinary background, which was why Song Yifan addressed him as “young master.”
Shen Budu’s fingertips rubbed the teacup as he thought about what identity to make up. Suddenly he heard the child called Ruan Ruan speak. “Shen… Du.”
Shen Budu raised an eyebrow slightly and immediately looked down. He found Ruan Ruan holding, in his little hand, a jade pendant hanging at his waist and reading the characters carved on it. “This big brother is called Shen Du, oh.”
The owner of this body was actually called Shen Du?
How… coincidental.
What surprised Shen Budu was that the name differed from his own by only one character. Song Yifan and Li Xingyu exchanged a look, but what surprised them was something else.
“Shen Du?” Song Yifan looked at Shen Budu and asked tentatively, “Are you that Shen Du of the Shen Family of Pingyuan?”
“Which Shen Du is ‘that Shen Du’?” Ruan Ruan blinked his curious eyes, which happened to ask exactly what was in Shen Budu’s heart.
Li Xingyu said, “The Shen Family of Pingyuan Commandery is a renowned cultivation family in our area. The family head, Shen Kuo, has seven sons, and most of them have great talent for cultivation. Only the fifth young master, born of a concubine, was born with blocked spiritual meridians and has no affinity for the path of cultivation. Many people say—”
His voice broke off abruptly. He instinctively glanced at Shen Budu, looking somewhat awkward and embarrassed. Shen Budu understood the moment he heard it. The words that followed were probably unpleasant, likely terms like “waste” or “good-for-nothing.”
This body did indeed have blocked spiritual meridians and an innate defect, and it also carried a Shen family jade pendant, so it must be that rumored good-for-nothing young master. Shen Budu therefore accepted the identity as a matter of course. “I am indeed Shen Du of the Shen family. I met with some misfortune and was injured, and I must thank all of you for lending a helping hand.”
As he spoke, he cupped his hands and bowed to the three of them.
Although he had not clearly explained what kind of misfortune he had met, the three present, on hearing it, all had the same thought without prior agreement.
Pingyuan Commandery was very far from here. Why would a young master of a great household, for no reason at all, run to this wild, desolate place? The Shen family was a great cultivation family, and it was said they had always valued the talent and cultivation of their disciples. This Young Master Shen not only could not cultivate at all, but was also born of a concubine. He must have suffered his own father’s disdain and his brothers’ ostracism, and been driven out by the family!
He was a young master of a great aristocratic family, yet from childhood his father had not cherished him and his mother had not loved him, and he had endured others’ cold looks and bullying. He had ultimately ended up expelled from the family, so short of food and water that he collapsed by the roadside barely breathing, and he was even less lively than those few toads in the pond!
Yet he himself did not play up his misery at all. He stubbornly hid the real reason, and even maintained an air of calm composure, gentle and courteous, forcing a smile for them!
So what if he could not cultivate? Was not the spirit of such a resilient, unyielding man of upright, unbending pride enough to move heaven and earth?!
The three hearts clenched and their breath caught. They all turned their gazes to Shen Budu, their eyes shimmering with tears, brimming with admiration, sympathy, pity, and a radiance of tender love.
Shen Budu: “…”
Wait, what have you all been imagining?