“So that is how it is,” Yan Jue said with a dry laugh, trying his best not to let his disappointment show.
Although his previous life had little to do with him now, he had genuinely cared for A-Ye because he believed the boy was his follower. He felt as though the pillar supporting him had collapsed. The sensation was no different from having his sincerity trampled upon. What made it more ridiculous was that it had all been his own sentimental delusion.
Qi Yelan saw his expression, and a strange feeling rose in his heart. He narrowed his eyes and asked, “Are you disappointed?”
Yan Jue composed himself and shook his head as if nothing were wrong. “No, why would I be disappointed? I simply thought we shared a special destiny.”
“What? Are you his follower?” Qi Yelan asked.
Yan Jue offered a bitter smile. “I suppose so.”
At that moment, he felt as though he were seeing this person clearly for the first time. The filter he had placed over A-Ye vanished, and he realized how foolish he had been. He had always been the one shamelessly sticking to the boy, never noticing that A-Ye might not want him around at all.
Then again, he reminded himself that A-Ye had been good to him. The boy had protected him throughout the journey and had even been injured for his sake. These thoughts made his mind, which had briefly found clarity, become muddled once more.
“A-Ye, you should go back. Go out and walk around on your own,” Yan Jue said. Before Qi Yelan could answer, Yan Jue hurried off into the night.
The late autumn evening arrived quickly. Yan Jue walked alone along the mountain paths lined with high walls, his mind flashing with the memories of his original body. He had walked this path countless times, usually surrounded by disciples and servants, full of high spirits and supreme honor. To him, this road was both familiar and strange. No matter how many memories he possessed, he could not erase that sense of alienation because those moments only existed in the past.
A hundred years was a very long time. It was like a blade that had killed off everyone from that era, leaving only two people: Qi Yelan, a demon who wanted to tear him to pieces, and Wei Changxing, whose fate remained unknown. And just now, it felt as though he had lost A-Ye as well. For the first time, he felt truly lonely and cold.
Beyond the high walls was a bamboo forest. The trees swayed, bringing a gust of chilly wind that made him wrap his clothes tighter around himself. Without realizing it, he had reached the end of the alley. To his right was another path. He remembered this area used to be a bamboo forest as well, but now it was occupied by halls and temples. This was likely the ancestral hall the Moshan Sect had built for him. Having nothing else to do, Yan Jue walked inside.
Many people came here during the day to pray and visit. It served as both an ancestral hall and a Water God temple. The tripod outside was filled with incense ash, emitting a faint, pleasant fragrance. Yan Jue walked straight to his true likeness and looked up at the three-meter-tall statue of himself. It was a clay body with painted clothes. He lived in this world, and the world had created a complete version of him: a perfect yet absurd Immortal Qingyan.
He stared at the statue so intently that he became lost in thought, failing to notice when someone appeared behind him.
“Someone told me they saw a familiar face here. I was wondering who it could be. I did not expect to see my junior brother here. What a coincidence,” a voice said.
Hearing the sudden voice, Yan Jue’s heart leaped into his throat. Once he recognized the person, his entire body stiffened, and he took several steps back. Feng Yu’s half-smiling expression looked particularly sinister in the darkness of the night. “What is wrong? Do you have nothing to say to your senior brother now?”
Yan Jue responded with a look of pure disgust. His expression asked, “What do you think?”
Feng Yu continued, “The day you left me made things very difficult for your senior brother. Do you not even have an apology for me?”
“You brought that on yourself,” Yan Jue replied coldly. He began to back away while attempting to send a transmission to Lu Wu. Only Lu Wu could save him now.
Feng Yu was not angry. Instead, his smile widened, looking exactly as it always did. Yan Jue only regretted that he had seen through the man’s mask so late. Feng Yu suddenly raised his hand, revealing a string of golden talismans. He glanced at the content of the talismans. “Not bad, little junior brother. You can already control spells of this difficulty? Your senior brother is very gratified.”
He then performed a hand seal. Under Yan Jue’s hateful and terrified gaze, he cast a barrier to isolate all magic. “Junior brother, I only want to talk. Do not be so resistant. We were not like this in the past.”
Yan Jue remained firm. “We are no longer what we were. There is nothing to talk about.” What Yan Jue feared most was not the man’s filthy intentions, but his hypocritical face. It was the kind of sight that made one’s skin crawl just by thinking about it.
Feng Yu walked toward him with a smile. “But I have plenty to talk about with you. Why must you make things so hard? You went to so much trouble to flee to Lanling, but the Danyang Sect is your home. Be good and come home with me.”
“Do not come any closer!” In the confusion, Yan Jue pulled out the dagger A-Ye had given him for protection. He knew the dagger posed no threat to the man before him, so he unhesitatingly pressed it against his own neck. “I will not go back with you. If you want to take back a corpse, I will fulfill that wish.”
Yan Jue did not truly want to die, but he was betting that Feng Yu would not let things go that far. As expected, Feng Yu stopped walking. The smile on his face vanished, replaced by a deep, dark malice. “You truly are not being obedient, junior brother.”
Yan Jue glanced at his own divine statue and spoke with mockery. “Who do you think you are? You are a mere mortal. Do you actually think you can become an immortal?”
Feng Yu made no effort to hide his ambition. He pointed at the statue in the hall. “Yes! If he could do it, why can’t I? I, Feng Yu, am stronger and have a better future in cultivation! If you are willing to help me, I will build a statue for you in the future. We can ascend together. Is that not good?”
Yan Jue looked at him with cold eyes. “You do not deserve it. A practitioner of wicked ways is not worthy of becoming an immortal.”
Yan Jue had become an immortal not just because he killed the demonic root, but because of the immense positive karma he possessed. Seeming provoked by the words, a look of madness appeared on Feng Yu’s face. “You really are not clever, junior brother. You are asking for suffering!”
Seeing the man rush toward him, Yan Jue cast a fire spell. Feng Yu dodged it easily. A violent aura surged within the small space, expanding until it was overwhelming. “Junior brother, a person should have some self-awareness,” Feng Yu hissed.
In the blink of an eye, Yan Jue felt his right hand, which was holding the knife, being gripped. He was thrown with such force that his body slammed into the offering table not far behind him. The offerings and the censer were swept to the floor.
“Ah!” The softest part of his abdomen hit the corner of the table. Yan Jue curled up in pain and slowly slid down from the altar. He had hoped to use the extreme circumstances to force out his Phoenix Fire, but he was currently in so much pain that he could barely find the strength to move.
Before he could recover from the pain, Feng Yu was already upon him. He grabbed Yan Jue and threw him back onto the offering table. Yan Jue was pinned down as the man leaned in close to his ear. A hand reached for his belt.
“What are you doing?” Yan Jue screamed. He had not expected Feng Yu to be so insane that he would try to do this here. Realizing the man’s intent, he began to struggle desperately.