Before long, Xie Weiyuan and Ji Yunlan reached them. The snow-white figure of Wen Yuzhu dissipated with the wind, leaving no trace or final words as to where she had gone. Xie Weiyuan’s gaze remained fixed and stagnant; he did not attempt to stop the specter from vanishing. The Black Feather at his waist also completely lost its luster, falling into silence.
“Master.”
“Who was she?” Xie Weiyuan asked.
Shen Yunjin lowered his eyes: “A wisp of my mother’s soul. I know not who created it.”
“A soul? Did she exhibit any abnormalities just now?”
“Golden threads covered her eyes, a snowy white abyss when she opened them. It must be a soul under someone’s control.”
Xie Weiyuan stated: “An Immortal in the Painting.”
“An Immortal in the Painting?”
“Things drawn by the Divine Crafting Brush are best at bewitching the hearts of men.”
He finished speaking, then furrowed his brows: “There has been constant turmoil recently. You dared to go down the mountain without permission; do you despise your own life?”
“…”
Shen Yunjin hadn’t yet spoken, but the atmosphere between the two had become visibly hostile. Ji Yunlan hurriedly stood between them to mediate and change the subject.
“By the way, Senior Brother, did you see anyone suspicious when you went down the mountain yesterday? Two disciples have died in the sect, and a kitchen worker has gone missing. There is chaos throughout the sect, and everyone is suspecting you…”
“Suspecting me?”
Ji Yunlan nodded: “All three individuals had contact with you, and the disciples are all saying this is your deliberate retaliation.”
The memory of the Divine Seal going out of control at the Wolf-Taming Platform had clearly left an indelible impression on them.
“Since there is nothing else, let us return to the Nine Nether Sect.” Xie Weiyuan frowned and turned to leave.
“Wait—” Shen Yunjin stood his ground.
Xie Weiyuan turned slightly, waiting for him to speak.
“Master… do you not suspect that I was the one who killed them?” His deep gaze rested on Xie Weiyuan’s sharp profile, trying to see through the emotions in his eyes.
In the past, Xie Weiyuan would never have trusted him. He would have used a whip to lash him until his skin was torn and his bones broken, blaming every sin on him rather than handling it so calmly. Even as a “human furnace” refusing to harm or humiliate him, he would never trust or pity him.
The bright snowlight fell on Xie Weiyuan’s indifferent brows and eyes, his robes fluttering in the wind.
“What does it matter if I suspect you or not? When I have investigated the truth, I will deal with it.”
The man’s back gradually retreated into the distance, leaving the world vast and desolate.
Upon returning to the sect, Shen Yunjin was brought to the Council Hall. The Elders were furious upon seeing him, but out of deference to Xie Weiyuan’s presence, they could not vent their anger directly.
“Sect Master, Shen Yunjin has been found, but what of the whereabouts of the three disciples?” Elder Hongzhen glared at Shen Yunjin, his words heavily pointed.
“The Black Feather is silent. The murderer is neither demon nor man.”
“Neither demon nor man? Could it be a ghost? But souls have no physical form; how could they kill?”
“Have you Elders heard of the Immortal in the Painting?”
“The Immortal in the Painting?” Elder Qingya’s expression changed drastically upon hearing this: “What do you mean?”
“In ancient times, there was a Deer Immortal who drank from the Weak Water and encountered a goddess. He saw the goddess walking on the water, laughing sweetly, like light clouds obscuring the moon. With every turn of her eyes, seven-colored brilliance shone forth. The Deer Immortal stood transfixed by the Weak Water, using it as ink, the divine Wutong tree as a skeleton, and the marrow of heaven as a brush-tip. After enduring nine hardships, he finally forged the holy object: the Divine Crafting Brush.”
“When the brush was finished, the heavens and earth lost their color and mountains collapsed. The Deer Immortal used it to add a new makeup to the world, but try as he might to depict the rivers, mountains, sun, and moon, he could not capture even a fraction of the goddess’s starlight. Every stroke either lacked spirit or was merely a shallow imitation; the best attempt barely captured three parts of her radiance.”
“For three hundred years, the Deer Immortal wandered the banks of the Weak Water, unable to see the goddess, his yearning turning his black hair to snow. He eventually died of a broken heart, returning to chaos.”
“The killer this time is the Immortal in the Painting created by the Divine Crafting Brush.”
Elder Hongzhen frowned: “How does the Sect Master know this?”
Xie Weiyuan feigned profundity: “I learned of it when browsing ancient texts in my leisure.”
Elder Lingyu looked worried: “Since she has no physical form and can come and go as she pleases, how can we capture her?”
To deal with evil demons, one naturally must use demonic methods. Xie Weiyuan’s gaze fell on Elder Qingya, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “Qingya, why not bring out your ‘Yellow Millet Scroll,’ which you have been practicing for years, and let us take a look.”
The Yellow Millet Scroll was originally a remnant of an ancient evil sect; the cultivation method was twisted, capable of drawing people into dreams. Xie Weiyuan had once wanted to retrieve it from the library, only to learn it had been taken away by Elder Qingya years ago.
Qingya’s old face flushed red: “What Yellow Millet Scroll? I haven’t practiced such things.”
Elder Lingyu was astonished: “You actually practice such demonic arts!”
Elder Lingyu had always been pure in heart and never read such forbidden scrolls. She did not know that the other Elders were not so clean, and had all practiced forbidden arts to varying degrees. The Nine Nether Sect had been established for a hundred years and was known as a righteous sect, but it wouldn’t have been so tainted if not for the current Sect Master: Xie Weiyuan.
He was never one to care about the divide between good and evil. Shrewd and treacherous, he had collected many evil remnant scrolls to bolster his cultivation in order to make a name for himself among the Twelve Sects.
“What do you mean ‘demonic arts’? Righteous path or demonic path, whatever serves the world is a good path…” Elder Qingya argued sophistically.
“One mistake and you will fall into demonic possession. If you become a demon, who can save you!” Lingyu raged. She looked back at the other Elders, who were pretending to see nothing, neither accusing nor speaking. She knew instantly that they were all more or less involved.
Finally, she looked up at Xie Weiyuan, sitting in the Sect Master’s chair. The man was calmly picking up a jade porcelain cup and taking a sip of water. Elder Lingyu was so angry she pointed at them: “You… you all!”
Not knowing what else to say, she turned and left in a rage.
Close to vermilion, one becomes red; close to ink, one becomes black. Elder Lingyu was truly a breath of fresh air.
“Enough, Qingya. Can the Yellow Millet Scroll accommodate a soul?” Xie Weiyuan asked.
“In theory, it should be possible, but this method requires setting up a formation. How would the Immortal in the Painting willingly enter our formation?”
Xie Weiyuan smiled sinisterly. Whenever he smiled like this, someone was about to suffer a major disaster. He was temperamental and full of conspiracies; once targeted by him, one would inevitably face a period of torment. At this moment, his eyes fell upon Shen Yunjin. The Elders felt a sense of relief they had finally seen the familiar Lord Linghua again!
“She will deliver herself to our doorstep.”
Shen Yunjin was stunned; he had no idea what Xie Weiyuan was planning.
“Lure the prey into the jar. Since she covets that thing, we shall ensure she never leaves.”
A thread of spiritual energy wrapped around Shen Yunjin from Xie Weiyuan’s fingertips, binding him tightly.
That night, five giant rocks painted with incantations and runes stood around Shen Yunjin; beneath his feet was a glowing formation pattern. The night wind licked away the scent of blood in the air, causing Shen Yunjin to shiver.
A wisp of illusory, moon-white soul drifted in from the horizon, gradually forming the graceful figure of a woman. Wen Yuzhu had truly arrived. She wore a pristine white robe, her face as pale as paper, her beautiful eyes looking at Shen Yunjin with sorrow. She continued her deception, sighing mournfully: “Little Yun’er, they have treated you so poorly, to tie you up like this.”
Shen Yunjin turned his face away, remaining silent.
Wen Yuzhu sneered, her dark hair dancing in the long wind as she looked provocatively at Xie Weiyuan’s hiding place and stepped forward, walking openly toward Shen Yunjin.
“Are you not afraid that you will never return?”
“With you here, what do I have to fear?”
“Don’t forget… I have come to take you home.” She smiled sweetly, looking at Shen Yunjin with the same tenderness as the Wen Yuzhu of the past.
Home… is it?
Golden threads flew out instantly. Shen Yunjin’s gaze grew dim, turning into a void; he lost focus, looking submissively at Wen Yuzhu. The charming arts of the Immortal in the Painting were truly powerful she had actually managed to bewitch Shen Yunjin.
Xie Weiyuan stood ready in the corner, fearing that the Immortal in the Painting might put Shen Yunjin in mortal danger.
The woman smiled indifferently, her fingertips touching the golden light binding him, but she instantly recoiled as if burned. But it was too late, the golden light transformed into a small snake, tightly coiling around her fingertips, devouring her soul bit by bit.
“What is this!” Her face began to twist, and the entity she had gathered slowly dissipated. When Wen Yuzhu saw clearly what it was, her expression changed drastically: “You as a master are truly sinister and cunning! You actually practice demonic arts!”
Xie Weiyuan finally stepped out. He looked at the “Soul-Devouring Nail 2.0 version” he had developed and raised his eyebrows: “This is called prescribing the right medicine for the disease; dealing with you requires a special method.”
Wen Yuzhu’s hand had been completely consumed by the snake. Enraged, her right hand manifested a mass of blood, and she sneered: “Do you really think I only have this much ability?”
Before her voice faded, the mass of blood lunged at Xie Weiyuan with lightning speed. Xie Weiyuan remained calm, leisurely summoning the Yunyin Flute to his lips. A burst of cyan spiritual energy surged from the flute, blocking the mass of blood.
As a soul that had just taken form, she could not compete with the profound cultivation of Lord Linghua. Soon, Wen Yuzhu could no longer hold on and was pressed to the ground by the flute. Sensing the danger, she tried to disintegrate and escape into the wind.
“May you enter a peaceful dream, and enter your soul and body.”
“Yellow Millet Scroll, open!”
Xie Weiyuan shouted sternly, standing against the wind in his wide-sleeved white robes. The Yellow Millet Scroll rose into the air, emitting dazzling golden light. Wen Yuzhu tried desperately to resist being sucked in, but she was unable to resist it in the slightest.
Wen Yuzhu’s face twisted. Using all her remaining spiritual power, she locked eyes with Shen Yunjin, and golden threads shot out, bewitching him. Shen Yunjin’s eyes lost their focus instantly; he stared blankly at the familiar face as it twisted and disintegrated. The nightmare from four years ago resurfaced at that time, Wen Yuzhu had faded away before his eyes just like this…
He tried to steady his mind, struggling against the power that was clouding his reason, but the Immortal in the Painting forcibly grabbed his wrist.
She had no way to drag him directly into the dream, but just as Shen Yunjin was about to break free, he suddenly saw Xie Weiyuan rushing toward him.
“Let go!” Xie Weiyuan roared, lunging forward to grab Shen Yunjin.
His heart fluttered. Looking at Xie Weiyuan’s anxious expression, he suddenly loosened his grip and stopped struggling. If I go in, what will Master do…
Xie Weiyuan only managed to grab a corner of his black clothes before being isolated outside the Yellow Millet Scroll. He closed his eyes halfway, watching as that snowy figure jumped into the Yellow Millet Scroll following him, without a hint of hesitation.
The others finally arrived at the Yellow Millet Scroll, but the golden light of the scroll was becoming increasingly blurred, and they could no longer see Xie Weiyuan’s figure.
“Elder Qingya, do you have any way to bring them out?” Elder Hongzhen asked anxiously.
“This…”
“One moment this, another moment that speak up!”
“There is no way…” Elder Qingya frowned, sighing.
“Then the Sect Master will be trapped inside for the rest of his life?”
“This ancient remnant scroll has very little written in the classics. I have only practiced it for a few years; how could I understand its mysteries?”
“Useless! I truly cannot rely on you! If the Sect Master perishes inside, how are we to answer for it?” Hongzhen scolded heavily.
“And you are reliable? If I hadn’t practiced the Yellow Millet Scroll, could we have caught that whatever-it-was Immortal in the Painting?”
“What use was catching her if you dragged the Sect Master inside with you!”
As they quarreled, they didn’t notice a white figure flash past. Ji Yunlan gritted his teeth, seized the moment before the Yellow Millet Scroll closed completely, and leapt inside.
Hongzhen and Qingya stood dumbfounded, unable to react for a long time.
“Why is everyone rushing to jump in?”
“Insane… they’ve all gone insane… I’m going back to sleep; I hope this is a dream,” Elder Qingya muttered.
“How can you still sleep? Go send a message for reinforcements!”