Chapter Seventy-Three

Inside the main hall.

Vivid red blood mixed with fine shreds of flesh had been dragged across the center of the hall in a long, dark smear. The air was thick with the smell of blood.

"Even the blood of such a vile creature smells rank and foul." The Second Elder fanned his hand in front of his nose, unable to conceal his disgust. He raised a hand, retrieved the recording stone, and rose from the seat of honor: "The Immortal Venerable's orders have been conveyed. Everyone — until we meet again."

With a sweep of his long sleeves, the Second Elder turned and walked toward the door. Passing by Nán Xíngyě, his steps gave a slight pause, and he glanced sideways: "Xíngyě — aren't you coming? What reason is there to linger in a filthy place like this?"

He intended to take all the Qīngxū Sect people with him? The assembled cultivators startled in unison. But what about the malevolent aura in Qingyang Heavenly Sect?

Lian Ci came to his senses, the polite smile on his face nearly cracking: "What does the Second Elder mean by this? The Hundred Immortal Sects have gathered here to collectively deliberate on a matter concerning the entire cultivation world. As the foremost among all sects, Qīngxū Sect surely cannot simply walk away?"

"Ha." The Second Elder turned to look at Lian Ci and let out a scornful laugh: "The malevolent aura has already been suppressed by the Immortal Venerable. Qīngxū Sect has fulfilled its responsibility as the leading sect. As for what comes next — the malevolent aura is within Qingyang Heavenly Sect. It is an internal matter belonging to Qingyang. It would not be appropriate for Qīngxū Sect to involve itself."

"Moreover." The Second Elder paused, and his tone took on a pointed edge: "A group of ingrates who could not even show gratitude to their own benefactor — Qīngxū Sect has no interest in keeping such company!"

"You—!" Qingyang Heavenly Sect might be unremarkable in standing, but it was still a properly established sect, and Lian Ci was still its leader. For the Second Elder to speak so mercilessly in front of everyone was a profound humiliation.

Lian Ci's face had gone iron-grey, but the Second Elder's words were the plain truth — Qingyang Heavenly Sect had indeed wronged Chú Róng — and he could not refute a single word.

Lian Ci clenched both fists, drew a deep breath, forcibly swallowed down the fire in his chest, and said as pleasantly as he could manage: "Second Elder, you are too harsh. In the matter of Chú Róng, I was completely unaware of the full circumstances. What happened before was based on the evidence at the time that caused me to…"

The Second Elder's expression darkened. His gaze fixed on Lian Ci with an unreadable weight.

A chill ran down Lian Ci's back. He pulled his lips into a stiff smile, and in a far more conciliatory tone, changed his words: "In Young Master Chú's matter, I was remiss in my oversight, and I wronged him. I am willing to personally apologize to the young master face to face. Qingyang Heavenly Sect will do everything in its power to make amends…"

"No need." The Second Elder cut Lian Ci off without ceremony, his manner growing ever more contemptuous: "Whatever meager resources Qingyang Heavenly Sect could offer wouldn't come close to compensating Young Master Chú for even a fraction of what he is owed. The young master is now a member of Qīngxū Sect. Whatever he needs in future, Qīngxū Sect will provide with both hands. Sect Master Lian need not trouble yourself."

The treasures the Immortal Venerable alone had put forward to have a single outfit crafted for Young Master Chú amounted to more than all of Qingyang's entire resources.

And they still had the nerve to talk about making amends? The sheer gall of Lian Ci!

The Second Elder gave a cold snort and wasted no more breath on Lian Ci: "Xíngyě — back to the sect!"

"Yes." Nán Xíngyě gave a slight bow and fell in behind the Second Elder. The way Qingyang Heavenly Sect had treated Chú Róng — he had no desire to stay and help them any longer. If Qingyang Heavenly Sect truly collapsed, they would have only themselves to blame.

"Second Elder." Hè Tíng's voice suddenly sounded from behind. The man shook the tea that had splashed onto his sleeve, clasped his hands in a bow toward the Second Elder, and with a sincerity rare for him, said: "There is an imposition I would put to the Second Elder. Some time ago, there were a few misunderstandings between myself and Young Master Chú. Would the Second Elder be so obliging as to grant me permission to travel to Qīngxū Sect and personally offer Young Master Chú my apologies?"

These words opened a floodgate. The assembled cultivators spoke up one by one: "We also wish to apologize to Young Master Chú in person — please grant us this, Second Elder!"

"Misunderstandings?" Upon hearing this, the Second Elder let out a furious rebuke: "So many cultivators, joining forces to make trouble for one lone mortal — and you think a breezy little 'misunderstanding' is enough to wash it all away?"

The assembled cultivators lowered their heads, too ashamed to say a word.

"The young master's health is not well. He is currently not receiving visitors." The Second Elder's sharp gaze swept over each person in the hall one by one, then his voice turned cold: "If any of you wish to offer an apology, send a formal letter of visit to Qīngxū Sect and wait for the young master's reply!"

Having said his piece, the Second Elder paid no further heed to the reactions of those in the hall, and strode out in a fury.

Lian Ci did not dare to stop him, and could only watch as over a hundred people from Qīngxū Sect departed Qingyang Heavenly Sect in a sweeping procession.

For a moment, the hall fell into silence.

"Speaking of which, Tiānjī Sect still has a great deal of affairs to attend to." After an indeterminate stretch of time, Hè Tíng produced a silk handkerchief and unhurriedly wiped the blood from his hands. He turned a gentle smile on Lian Ci — composed and gracious as jade, yet it made Lian Ci's heart give a sudden lurch, a sense of foreboding rising within him: "I'm afraid I must also take my leave, Sect Master Lian. Farewell."

Merchants valued profit above sentiment. Hè Tíng had never had any intention of dealing with the malevolent aura. With Qīngxū Sect leading the way out, he saw no reason to stay any longer.

Before Lian Ci could say a word, Hè Tíng led his attendant disciples out of the main hall without looking back.

"I also have matters in my valley to attend to. Farewell." Jīng Héng casually tossed aside the empty medicine vial in his hand, didn't spare Lian Ci a single glance, and strode out.

Duàn Lěng cupped his hands: "Chánghé Sect has a debt to settle with the Marquis of Anguo's estate. Farewell." And followed at once.

"Fēngqīng Sect also has a score to settle with the estate." Líng Quán bellowed at the top of his voice and swaggered out.

"So do I!"

"And I!"

……

Farewells rang out one after another throughout the hall. The Hundred Immortal Sects departed one by one, and before long, only Yún Tán and a handful of Dùfǎ Temple monks remained in the main hall.

The colour drained from Lian Ci's face. He looked at Yún Tán rising to his feet, and could no longer hold onto his composure: "Sacred Son Yún… you as well…?"

Was it not Dùfǎ Temple's sacred mission to save all living beings? Was Yún Tán also going to leave the malevolent aura unattended?

Yún Tán turned his prayer beads idly, closed his eyes a fraction, and his expression returned to its habitual state of neither sorrow nor joy: "Amitābha. When the malevolent aura breaks through its seals, Yún Tán will come again. Sect Master Lian — farewell."

It was over.

All was over.

Gazing at the empty main hall, Lian Ci collapsed into the seat of honor, his eyes conveying the depths of his despair. With the power of Qingyang Sect alone — how was he supposed to deal with the malevolent aura?

—

High in the sky, the Qīngxū Sect delegation rode their swords toward home.

Nán Xíngyě flew alongside the Second Elder, his dark robes billowing. His bearing was tall and imposing, his appearance remarkable: "Second Elder — you said Young Master Chú's… the young master's health is not well. Has something happened to him?"

The Second Elder did not notice the odd quality in Nán Xíngyě's voice. Recalling the image of Ning Yuan descending from the Spirit Canal with Chú Róng in his arms, a faint thread of worry rose within him too: "I'm not entirely certain. When I left, Young Master Chú was still unconscious."

Unconscious?!

Nán Xíngyě's handsome face changed abruptly. A plainly audible anxiety and urgency threaded through his low voice: "How did he come to be unconscious?"

Just days ago, when the Immortal Venerable had taken Chú Róng away, hadn't he still been perfectly fine?

The Second Elder had not accompanied Ning Yuan and Chú Róng on their excursion, so how would he know the reason: "Don't worry. The Grand Elder's medical skills are peerless — the young master will be all right."

The Second Elder had full confidence in Yún Sōng's abilities. Treating a mortal's ailments would be well within his capabilities.

Nán Xíngyě pressed his thin lips tightly together. The light in his eyes flickered and shifted. He said nothing — and silently poured his spiritual power into the sword beneath his feet. In an instant, it shot forward at the speed of lightning!

"The journey back to Qīngxū Sect is long, Xíngyě — slow down!" the Second Elder called out in alarm.

Nán Xíngyě paid no heed. He rode without rest for several days and nights, his spiritual power draining rapidly as water, and arrived at Qīngxū Sect with his reserves nearly spent.

The guarding disciples at the mountain gate recognized Nán Xíngyě and greeted him respectfully: "Senior Brother Xíngyě."

As though he had not heard them, Nán Xíngyě dismissed his sword and sprinted toward Wangxian Peak.

At the peak's summit, abundant spiritual energy flowed and pooled. Water droplets flung from the waterfall caught the surrounding light, scattering it in dazzling reflections.

The grand, austere palace stood with its doors open wide. A slender figure emerged from within.

The young man wore a robe of aquamarine silk embroidered with golden cloud patterns, bound at the waist with a cord of the same color that traced the taut, supple arc of his slender waist. His sleeves billowed like drifting clouds, and as he moved, light rippled subtly through the hem of his garment.

His cloud-like black hair was gathered with a ribbon as thin as the wings of a cicada and fell freely over his shoulders and down his chest, making his devastatingly beautiful face appear all the more striking — his skin as white as snow, his radiance overwhelming, a brilliance that neither spring blossoms nor autumn moon could match even a ten-thousandth of.

He appeared somewhat uncomfortable. His beautiful brows were lightly knitted, the corners of his peach-blossom eyes slightly upturned, his long lashes drooping just a fraction. There was a faint pallor to his complexion.

The string of Nán Xíngyě's heart gave a fierce tremor. His chest tightened in an instant. Ignoring the ache caused by the severe depletion of his spiritual reserves, he strode rapidly toward the young man. His quickened breathing made his voice unsteady: "Don't move — I'll take you to the Grand Elder."

Chú Róng's footsteps came to a halt. He raised his head and looked over. The flush at the corners of his eyes was faint as a blush of red, like a single stroke of rouge. His gaze still seemed to carry a faint, glistening haze of moisture.

Nán Xíngyě?

Chú Róng had an excellent memory. He had seen several of the male leads back at Wusong Lodge, and recognized at a single glance who this was.

Nán Xíngyě was a Qīngxū Sect disciple — his appearing on Wangxian Peak was not strange. Chú Róng paid no attention to Nán Xíngyě's words. His pink lips parted slightly, as if he were about to say something, but they had barely opened before they closed again.

The faint orchid fragrance that belonged to him drifted in wisps through the surrounding air, reaching the nose and tightening the throat.

Nán Xíngyě's solid chest rose and fell. His Adam's apple bobbed. His breathing quickened without his meaning it to, and he quickened his pace — nearly charging forward — until he stood before Chú Róng: "Don't be afraid. With me here, I absolutely won't let anything happen to you…"

Nán Xíngyě's words were cut short. A flash of luminescence shot out from the bell at Chú Róng's waist and struck squarely into his chest.

Nán Xíngyě, caught unawares, was thrown backward. He sank to one knee on the ground, and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

What was…?

Nán Xíngyě wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and looked at the bell at the young man's waist. His pupils contracted sharply: "The Soul-Capturing Bell?!"

The Soul-Capturing Bell was a peerless spiritual treasure. Yet from the moment it had appeared in the world, it had recognized Ning Yuan as its master, and so very few in the cultivation world had ever seen it.

Nán Xíngyě had heard of the Soul-Capturing Bell and understood something of its function. It could prevent anyone from drawing near to the person who wore it — one could call it a form of protection, or one could call it a roundabout form of imprisonment.

Especially given that Chú Róng was a mortal — it would be even more impossible for him to be free of the Soul-Capturing Bell.

Nán Xíngyě ground his teeth together. His handsome brows and eyes darkened with shadow. How could the Immortal Venerable use such a despicable method on a mere mortal?!

Nán Xíngyě pressed a hand over his chest and stood. Forcing down the fury burning inside him, he extended a hand toward Chú Róng and softened his voice as best he could, not wanting to frighten the person before him: "Don't be afraid. I'll take you away."

The Soul-Capturing Bell responded only to its master's will and could not be broken. The most important thing now was to get Chú Róng away from the Immortal Venerable's control — bring him back to his own residence first, and consider the rest afterward.

Nán Xíngyě refused to believe there was no way to remove the Soul-Capturing Bell. Once it was taken off, he would form a marriage bond with Chú Róng. Even with the Immortal Venerable's reach extending across all of heaven, there would be nothing he could do.

What was Nán Xíngyě saying? He could not make heads or tails of it.

Chú Róng lowered his gaze to the hand the man had extended, a look of genuine puzzlement crossing his flawlessly beautiful features — framed by the flush at the corners of his eyes, it was utterly soul-stirring.

Seeing it, a flame rose in Nán Xíngyě's chest, and he could not stop himself from moving closer: "Come with me — will you?"

From now on, he would guard Chú Róng with every step, and never allow him to be hurt again.

But Nán Xíngyě had taken no more than two steps when a terrifying surge of pressure descended upon him from all sides, pinning him utterly motionless.

A man's voice, soaked through with cold, came from above — devoid of any discernible emotion, yet chilling to the bone: "Where do you intend to take what belongs to this venerable one?"

作者有話說：

Sorry for the long wait~