A sudden ringing drowned out Shen Zhuo’s hearing, cutting off all external sounds. The ruins, the crowd, and the figures of Pei Chuan and Xie Yuan blurred and twisted instantly. In their place, fragments of memory flashed by at high speed.
He felt as if he had fallen back into Mo Yuan’s underground palace, returning to those seventeen years of imprisonment. Scenes from his past life surfaced like a revolving lantern, wrapping tightly around him. Suddenly, the images froze at the exact moment he escaped the palace, before everything plunged into total darkness.
The entire world was reduced to an endless, high-pitched hum.
Who am I?
I am Shen Zhuo.
Where am I?
I do not know.
What am I going to do?
I am going to save someone.
Who is that person?
I do not know.
Shen Zhuo’s consciousness was completely swallowed by the ringing in his ears. Surging emotions billowed up from his heart, impossible to suppress. He could no longer think. His only thought was to find that person and save them.
But who was that person?
Shen Zhuo felt he should know, but the name hid behind a thick mist. He only knew for certain that this person was extremely important to him. He had to go somewhere and rescue them.
Go find them now! Right now!
He stumbled forward, but his vision was filled with overlapping, blurry figures blocking his path. He drew his long sword, attempting to slash through the illusions in his way. A figure suddenly darted out from the chaos, standing in his path.
I will not allow it! No one can stop me from finding that person!
His sword strokes were fast and fierce, devoid of restraint. He aimed directly for vital points, each move carrying a lethal intent to force the other back. Yet the person met every one of his attacks, refusing to give an inch and making progress impossible.
“Get out of the way. I have to go. I have to find him!”
[Host! Host!]
[Warning! Warning! The Host has been controlled by resentment! Host, wake up!]
[Warning! Warning! Warning! Warning! Warning! Warning! Warning!]
The sharp electronic voice in his head nearly tore his mind apart. Shen Zhuo shook his head violently. Only then did he see his surroundings clearly, realizing with a start that he had fallen from the roof at some point. Before he could process the situation, a cold flash of steel swung toward his face.
“Senior Brother?”
Pei Chuan had not expected Shen Zhuo to stop so suddenly. His strike was already in motion and difficult to fully retract. He forced his sword to pivot, and the wind of the blade brushed past Shen Zhuo’s sleeve.
“Xiao Zhuo? Are you awake?”
Shen Zhuo looked around. Everything was a mess. Cultivators everywhere were attacking the people beside them with lethal intent. He froze, the words escaping him. “What is going on?”
“I am not sure. After the resentment demon was crushed, everyone started acting strange,” Pei Chuan said. “Including you. You kept saying you had to find someone, and nothing could stop you.”
“I have to find someone?” Shen Zhuo recalled the fragments of memory in a daze.
But who was he looking for?
He tried to think clearly, but a sudden, sharp pain flared in his sea of consciousness, forcing him to clutch his head and stop his thoughts. Once he stopped trying to remember, the pain vanished.
“What exactly is happening?” Pei Chuan asked.
Shen Zhuo rubbed his temples. “When we dealt with the resentment demon earlier, the resentment was not completely destroyed. Instead, it was allowed to scatter.”
Pei Chuan understood immediately. “So you were also controlled by the resentment?”
“Yes. Resentment triggers a person’s deepest obsession,” Shen Zhuo said, stopping mid-sentence.
If that was the case, why was his obsession to find a person? Who was that person? Was there an error in his obsession, or was there a problem with his memory?
Pei Chuan’s blade moved suddenly, a flash of light sweeping to his side. Shen Zhuo watched as the strike perfectly intercepted a lethal blow from one cultivator toward his companion. The cultivator who had nearly died immediately retaliated, sending a burst of spiritual energy toward the other’s vitals. Pei Chuan struck again, blocking the energy before using his sword hilt to strike both men twice, knocking them unconscious.
Shen Zhuo looked around. The entire Jian estate had fallen into a bloody slaughter, appearing like a living hell. The sight overlapped with memories of his past life. He whispered, “This is the emergence of demonic energy.”
Shen Zhuo thought of something and looked toward Pei Chuan. The other man’s sword light fell, forcing back a frenzied cultivator in the chaos. The resentment actually seemed to fear him, scattering and not daring to approach his body.
“Senior Brother,” Shen Zhuo could not help but ask, “are you not affected by the resentment?”
Pei Chuan was focusing all his power on his sword aura. Hearing this, he looked back. “It seems so. This resentment appears to be afraid of me.” He looked up toward the roof on the other side. “I believe you now, regarding that catastrophe you mentioned,” Pei Chuan said solemnly. “Our priority is to stop them as quickly as possible.”
Shen Zhuo followed his gaze to the distant roof. A black silk robe fluttered in the wind. Messy strands of hair brushed across a face, veiling the features in an unpredictable, mysterious way. Xie Yuan stood still on the roof, his white jade fan held before his chest. The originally lustrous jade was now shrouded in thick, black energy.
“How has Xie Yuan been controlled by resentment again?” Shen Zhuo asked, stunned.
“It is more than that,” Pei Chuan said. “Look at the resentment around him. It is exceptionally active and seems very close to him.”
The two knew exactly what it meant for resentment to be close to someone. Master Jian had just been a living example. Once resentment gathered using a physical body as a vessel, Xie Yuan would become a demon.
“He must be stopped,” Pei Chuan said as he gripped his long sword. “If he makes a move, no one here will survive.”
Shen Zhuo understood Pei Chuan’s concern. The current situation was a dilemma. The surrounding cultivators were killing each other, and only Pei Chuan could manage to control the situation. Yet Xie Yuan on the roof was the only one of their generation who could rival Pei Chuan, and he required a personal response. If Pei Chuan went to stop Xie Yuan, these cultivators would lose control and die. If he stayed to manage the field, who would stop Xie Yuan?
Shen Zhuo shook his long sword. “I will do it,” he said decisively.
Pei Chuan was taken aback. He did not understand why his junior brother, who had no cultivation, was so confident. “Xiao Zhuo, go back. This is not something you can interfere with. Just protect yourself.”
However, Shen Zhuo had already injected spiritual energy into his sword. The blade began to glow with a soft light. He looked at Pei Chuan, at that face which was younger than the one in his memories.
“Senior Brother,” Shen Zhuo suddenly smiled. “The future me has the cultivation of the Tribulation Stage.”
With that, he called out to the system. “Can I still use that Newcomer Trial Card?”
The system responded quickly. [Yes, Host. Upon use, you can restore ten seconds of your peak cultivation.]
“I am using it now.”
[Understood, Host. Applying the Newcomer Trial Card.]
[The Trial Card has been activated. The effect is now in place.]
A majestic power erupted from his dantian, instantly surging through his limbs. The power was too great for his current body. Shen Zhuo was left dizzy and unsteady by the rush of spiritual energy. But he only had ten seconds; there was no time to adapt.
Enduring the surging blood and dizziness, Shen Zhuo thrust his sword into the ground. In an instant, an invisible shockwave blasted outward with him at the center. The resentment was instantly annihilated under the pressure of this Tribulation Stage spiritual aura. The surrounding cultivators were thrown back, collapsing to the ground and unable to move for a time.
Shen Zhuo’s black hair fluttered without the wind. He looked up at Xie Yuan, who was surrounded by overwhelming resentment. Xie Yuan seemed to sense the change. Before Shen Zhuo could even act, the white jade fan carried a thick cloud of black energy and attacked from the air.
Shen Zhuo remained expressionless as he drew his sword and slashed. There was no elaborate starting move, only a concentrated burst of spiritual power that shot through the air, knocking the jade fan aside and evaporating the resentment. He took a step forward, his body breaking through the air. In the next second, he appeared before Xie Yuan.
A common long sword, backed by the pressure of the Tribulation Stage, pointed directly at the other man’s forehead. The black energy around Xie Yuan surged wildly, transforming into countless phantoms that lunged at the sword tip to block it.
It was all in vain. Before absolute power, the shadows disintegrated upon contact, failing to slow the sword in the slightest. The tip of the blade touched the center of Xie Yuan’s forehead without obstruction. Pure Tribulation spiritual power washed over him like a flood, forcibly driving the resentment out.
Shen Zhuo was about to gather more energy to completely disperse the black fog when the power in his dantian vanished. A sense of extreme weakness instantly swept over him.
[The ten-second countdown has ended. The Newcomer Trial Card has been fully used. Please continue to complete tasks and restore your cultivation as soon as possible.]
His body was too fragile. As soon as the system notification finished, Shen Zhuo’s vision went dark. His legs gave way, and he fell forward. Xie Yuan, having just regained his senses, instinctively reached out to catch the falling youth.
Shen Zhuo leaned against Xie Yuan’s shoulder, his breathing rapid and his face pale. He still used his sword against the ground to steady himself.
Pei Chuan’s anxious voice came from below. “Xiao Zhuo!”
“I am fine,” Shen Zhuo gasped. He kept his eyes fixed on the resentment escaping from Xie Yuan’s body and fleeing toward the west. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead. Gathering his final strength, he shouted toward the west.
“Are you still not going to show yourself? Master Jian has died, just as you wished.”
The west remained quiet. There was no movement.
Shen Zhuo continued, “I originally thought that controlling resentment was not something a mere mortal could do. But I miscalculated one thing. What if the resentment is willing to be driven by a person?”
“That jade pendant is stained with the blood of dozens of Song family members. Using blood malice as a guide, it gathers the resentment of heaven and earth. If anyone can command the resentment within that pendant, it is only you, Song Yan.”
“You already knew the truth behind the massacre of the Song family. After Master Jian stole the pendant and imprisoned you, the desire for revenge took hold, and you allowed the resentment to corrode him. If Butler Chen had not been dissatisfied with Master Jian’s actions and conspired with his brother Chen Gouzi to steal the pendant, Master Jian likely would have died within six months from being unable to withstand the energy.”
“Why did the resentment wait to explode until after Master Jian claimed the pendant with his blood? Your true target for revenge should be the real culprit behind the Song family tragedy, not just Master Jian.”
After he finished speaking, a light breeze rose from the west. The breeze swept past as a figure slowly stepped out from behind the courtyard wall. She was slender and used one hand against the wall to feel her way forward. Every step was taken with extreme caution.
Pei Chuan saw her. “Miss Song Yan, it really is you.”
Song Yan tilted her head slightly toward Pei Chuan before raising her hand. The black energy that had escaped from Xie Yuan’s body earlier was immediately summoned, gathering quickly around her. Xie Yuan felt his sleeve empty as the jade pendant, which had been restricted by white light, broke free and flew back to Song Yan’s side.
Song Yan caught the pendant firmly. A flash of black energy crossed her hollow eyes, and she lowered the hand she had been using to feel the wall. Now, Song Yan was using the resentment as her eyes, looking toward Shen Zhuo.
“It really is you manipulating the resentment,” Shen Zhuo said, looking into those deep eyes.
“That is not the case,” Song Yan denied softly. She looked down at the pendant in her hand. “What Young Hero Shen said was mostly correct, but you were wrong about one thing.”
“What was that?”
“I cannot manipulate the resentment. I can only perceive its existence.”