Chapter 27

In the village, people died one after another. It was common for the elderly to pass away a few each year, so it drew little attention. But after the old ones died, misfortune fell upon the able-bodied.

The first to go mad was Wang Wu's own mother. Sometimes she would weep and wail, half-speaking and half-singing, always saying something was burrowing under her skin, causing agonizing pain. Other times, she would frantically claw at her own flesh, insisting that fuzz had grown there—yet when she rolled up her sleeves, her arms and elbows showed nothing unusual.

Several physicians were summoned, but none could find any ailment.

Finally, in a panic-stricken state late one night, she dashed her head against the wall and died.

Blood trickled down the wall and soaked the bedding.

Before the funeral rites were even completed, disaster struck again. Wang Wu's father went hunting a second time, and for unknown reasons, fell down a mountainside and vanished for days.

When he was found, his body was incomplete, bearing marks that suggested wild beasts had torn at him.

From then on, increasingly bizarre occurrences multiplied. One by one, more villagers died in strange ways—some hung from beams, undiscovered for days; others disappeared without a trace, only to be pulled from the well as bloated corpses days later. The entire village became shrouded in the shadow of death, and everyone was jumpy with fear.

When the invisible hand seized the villagers' lives and squeezed them out one by one, killing half the population, panic truly took hold, and most families began to flee.

But they hadn't even made it out of the village before a mountain torrent came crashing down.

Corpses littered the ground.

The once-prosperous village was almost entirely emptied overnight. Only Wang Wu remained, staying close to guard his parents' graves.

"Build... a shrine." His broken, incomplete teeth moved, and finally he forced out those two words.

The memory ended there, indistinct.

Yun Shuchen withdrew her spiritual power, and the withered bones scattered, collapsing to the ground.

"In the end, only Wang Wu remained in the village. His biological mother died long ago, yet a demon took her form to be with him. Wouldn't he have suspected something?"

That clearly didn't make sense. Qing Zhouxue pondered silently. Then, from outside the door, she heard a commotion, and a voice called out, "Elder Liu, are you there?"

Lin Xunzhen looked disheveled and somewhat weary, half-supporting the unconscious Ruan Mingzhu. A heavy pouch hung at her waist, and she was panting for breath.

"You're finally back! What happened?" Bai Su exclaimed in alarm.

"While we were fighting the demon just now, Junior Sister Ruan suddenly turned pale and was wracked with pain from head to toe. We don't know why."

Lin Xunzhen handed Ruan Mingzhu to Bai Su, who helped her into the herb hut. Catching her breath, Lin opened the heavy pouch at her waist, revealing the weasel demon in its original form, now motionless and barely breathing, with a talisman stamped on its forehead.

Lin Xunzhen spotted the corpse on the ground, took a step back in shock, and stammered, "...Wang Wu is dead?"

"He died long ago."

Qing Zhouxue summarized the memories she had just seen.

"Junior Sister, then what about this training mission?" Lin Xunzhen clutched the demon carefully, afraid of killing this last shred of hope. "We can't just drain this weasel's cultivation and try teaching it again, can we?"

Yun Shuchen chuckled softly. "That won't be necessary. The Sect Leader has seen everything you did. His intention lay elsewhere—he's not that rigid. In special circumstances like this, he will judge accordingly."

Elder Yun's words settled their hearts, but then she added, "Still, I'm rather curious about the story behind this. Bring that half-dead little creature here—let me have a look."

Lin Xunzhen complied, but Qing Zhouxue blocked her way. "That's not appropriate."

She looked at Yun Shuchen, brows furrowing slightly. "...This thing bites. It's grown wild, and who knows what diseases it carries. Master, please don't go near it."

Lin Xunzhen was baffled. She thought to herself that Elder Yun, after all, was a Mahayana cultivator—surely she couldn't be bitten by such a creature.

Qing Zhouxue held up the creature, which began to squirm again, emitting faint, feeble sounds.

"Years ago, you too had already died. A single obsessive thought remained in this world, refusing to enter reincarnation. Why?"

Yun Shuchen used a bit of spiritual power to contain its soul, which was on the verge of dispersing.

Its memories unfolded like the latter half of a scroll, revealing the full truth of this tragic entanglement.

After being skinned to death, its naked body was carelessly left in the wild to rot, just like its four equally naked pups—their bones dissolved, their flesh decayed, mixing into dust.

A stubborn thought kept its soul from reincarnation, so it lingered around Zhushan Village, attaching itself to some object.

Demons are inherently yin and deadly; deep resentment only adds to their ferocity. The feng shui of the area became unbalanced, and with each imbalance, its influence over the mortal world grew stronger.

Eventually, it was strong enough to take revenge for its four innocent pups.

The villagers scattered, some leaving, some dying, and the prosperous town fell into ruin, its doors covered with cobwebs.

But it didn't kill Wang Wu.

Instead, it gathered the souls of its four pups and pressed them into Wang Wu's human body—a bit cramped.

The demon souls and the human soul were squeezed together, inevitably fighting for dominance. And it was from that point that Wang Wu's memories became chaotic, no longer clear.

His soul grew weaker and weaker until it was barely breathing, and his body slowly died from the daily drain, like an ancient tree hollowed out by rot, growing thinner and thinner.

In truth, it had died a long time ago too.

All that remained was a single strand of obsession, with fragmented memories, clinging stubbornly to the pretense of motherly love, transforming into the image of Wang Wu's real mother, watching over him as if he were her dead child. Sometimes, she would gaze at him alone and murmur, "One, two, three, four..." as if afraid they might wander off and be lost.

Wang Wu's human soul was so suppressed that its memories became incomplete. His final thought must have been a promise to repay Xiao Huang—to build an immortal shrine, enjoy offerings, and ascend to immortality as soon as possible.

Perhaps it was because he had wandered through life, forgetting much, remembering only the word "immortal", that through coincidence and error, he left his name on the widely circulated registry of the Taichu Sect.

The air hung heavy with silence for a long moment. The demon had calmed down, and Yun Shuchen sighed softly. "This is all a bitter fate."

Then she raised her hand and removed the talisman in the air.

In an instant, crimson light blazed—

Yun Shuchen stepped back just in time, forming seals with her bare hands, enveloping the suddenly berserk demon, along with Qing Zhouxue and Lin Xunzhen, within a barrier.

Qing Zhouxue felt a sense of foreboding, and then she heard Yun Shuchen outside the barrier say with composure, "Lingsu Peak has no shortage of rare herbs and spiritual plants. You can go all out in there. This barrier only allows entry, not exit, so no need to worry."

Then they watched Yun Shuchen walk away, leaving only a soft laugh carried by the wind. "Give it a proper send-off. Since this is your training after all, for fairness, I'll refrain from interfering."

The two of them and the demon stood staring at each other, trapped together in a single cage.

Under the demon's massive body, they were like crisp radishes—snapped in a single bite. Its blood-red beast eyes clung to them like a sticky shadow, and that unblinking stare sent chills down their spines.

Qing Zhouxue looked up, meeting those beastly eyes with a heavy, steady gaze.

Lin Xunzhen had previously helped Ruan Mingzhu subdue it, but back then the demon's aura wasn't this overwhelming, and she had good talismans on hand. Now empty-handed, she could only steel herself against it.

They'd have to outsmart it... but how? A sudden idea struck her, and she cried out, "The belly is its weak point!"

A sharp claw raised, casting a menacing shadow, descending with the howling wind.

Qing Zhouxue took a step back, then suddenly ducked low and slipped beneath its belly. Hearing Lin Xunzhen's shout, she raised her longsword without thinking and made a shallow cut across the belly. But when she emerged from underneath, the weasel's flexible tail whipped around, striking her waist and sending her back slamming against the barrier.

The weasel demon's nostrils flared, triggered by the scent of blood, and its already glowing red eyes seemed even more bloodthirsty and savage.

Qingshuang had cut too shallowly, not enough to kill in one blow, and instead had enraged it.

Lin Xunzhen had water and earth spirit roots, but "water" was the most flexible and fluid of the five elements. She chose to focus on water—soft yet unyielding, capable of controlling all things.

Qing Zhouxue spat out a mouthful of blood and rose to her feet, using her sword for support. When the next claw came down, the water streams Lin Xunzhen controlled surged down like a waterfall, completely obscuring its vision. In that blur of water, a figure like a white crane broke through the cascade, leaping into the air atop her flying sword—

Qingshuang gathered all her spiritual power, and the frost-white glow tinged even the flowing water with a sheen of ice.

With all her strength, she drove the blade into the beast's vulnerable nape. In that moment, the gushing demon blood froze solid, breaking into chunks of reddish-brown ice that tumbled to the ground.

It seemed the battle would end there.

But Qing Zhouxue felt the demon's body beneath her feet swell even larger. It twisted its head and flung her off again.

It roared, rolled on the ground, trying to dislodge the sword, but showed no signs of calming down—a fully berserk demon, only defeated by piercing its dantian.

Qing Zhouxue, now without her sword and having suffered internal damage from being slammed around, wasn't in great shape.

Lin Xunzhen had fought twice today and summoned three floods. Now her spiritual power was depleted; she couldn't conjure so much as a drop of water.

Trying to run was wishful thinking.

Just as they were at their wit's end, the door of the herb hut burst open, and pale-faced Ruan Mingzhu, who had woken up at some point, smelled the demonic aura. Seeing the situation, she didn't hesitate, charging at the barrier with her blade. Bai Su, following close behind, froze, grabbed her, and said, "Your internal energy is in disarray! You must not use spiritual power!"

Ruan Mingzhu had nearly been cornered off a cliff by this beast and had to be rescued by Lin Xunzhen. She was nursing a grudge, shoved Bai Su aside, and gritted her teeth. "I'll hack this damned beast to pieces with my own blade if I have to!"

Bai Su bit her lip, glanced inside the barrier. Qing Zhouxue and Lin Xunzhen were in critical condition, and now with reckless Ruan Mingzhu added to the mix, it was becoming even more uncontrollable.

She had studied medicine under her master and never learned martial arts. Every ounce of spiritual power she'd ever used had been for healing, never for harm.

She had never fought such a ferocious demon face to face.

Her heart pounded, her legs felt weak, but she couldn't just watch her junior sisters die before her eyes. Bai Su squeezed her eyes shut, steeled her resolve, and followed Ruan Mingzhu, charging into the barrier.

Once inside, Ruan Mingzhu forgot her disordered internal energy. Suppressing the urge to vomit blood, she ignited flames at her fingertips, singeing the yellow fur.

She drew the weasel demon's attention, and it stopped rolling, baring its fangs in pain from the scorch, lashing its tail as it gathered strength and lunged at Ruan Mingzhu, as if only consuming her flesh could quell its rage.

Taking advantage of the moment, Qing Zhouxue stepped on the thrashing tail to gain height, reaching desperately for Qingshuang, and pulled it free, bringing out a mass of frozen flesh and blood.

The thick neck was half severed by the sword, and it landed right beneath Ruan Mingzhu's blade. With a heavy swing, she chopped down, and the beast's head tumbled to the ground.

But its dantian was still intact, and even without a head, it struck out with a powerful claw. Ruan Mingzhu couldn't dodge in time, and a chunk of flesh was torn from her shoulder.

She nearly blacked out from the pain, but then a gentle, soft green light enveloped her shoulder like a spring breeze. Turning around, she saw Bai Su with her eyes closed, reciting something softly.

The flesh knit back together quickly, and the jagged wound transformed into a smooth, calm surface.

Qing Zhouxue was in danger as well. Gripping the fur at the nape of the demon's neck, she was nearly dangling from its towering torso. The headless body couldn't see and charged wildly about, slamming her chest and stomach against its massive frame. Already injured internally, Qing Zhouxue now felt her organs screaming in pain, and blood seeped from the corners of her mouth.

But she didn't let go. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched, she held on without a sound.

Bai Su saw trouble and diverted some of her power in an attempt to heal her, but the internal injuries were too complex to mend quickly.

When the body she was clutching gave another violent lurch, Qing Zhouxue's eyes snapped open. With a supple twist, she used the momentum to swing around the massive frame, releasing her grip, and aimed a strike at its dantian.

This wasn't like the disciplined practice of daily training; it was full of surprises and interruptions. Her sword pierced halfway, stopping just an inch short of the dantian. A bit more and it would shatter completely.

But with the violent jolts, she lost her grip on the embedded sword. Bai Su, below, gasped.

Qing Zhouxue clung to the fur with one hand, reaching for the sword with the other, always just out of reach.

Her fingers ached like they might snap. After another violent buck, her grip loosened, her strength gave out, and she fell.

Her back slammed hard onto the ground, and she coughed up more blood. A massive claw loomed overhead like a dome, plunging everything into darkness.

"Throw the blade!" Lin Xunzhen scanned around, and somehow found the strength, snatching Ruan Mingzhu's long knife. Before Ruan could react, the knife was already flying through the air, hitting the gleaming sword embedded in the dantian with perfect precision.

The blade served as a hammer, and the sword's hilt as a nail. It was exactly the last push needed.

Qingshuang drove in another inch.

The dantian shattered.

The massive demon body froze for an instant, then went still. The black baleful aura dissipated completely, and finally, with a hazy shimmer of light, all that was left was the pure white, translucent soul of the weasel.

While everyone stared in astonishment, that fluffy figure dissolved like mist and turned into a gold ingot, dropping to the ground.

At that moment, the barrier shattered as well.

A breeze passed by, as if nothing had ever happened.

"It's finally gone?" Lin Xunzhen stood frozen in place.

The workings of fate are inherently fleeting and unpredictable, leaving behind many regrets.

Qing Zhouxue, catching her breath, lay on the ground and glanced at the gold ingot.

She had heard that when demons die, their souls attach to external objects. If they hold too much grudge, they rebuild a body and become a demon of violence. Only by dispersing the grudge and leaving just the pure soul can they re-enter the cycle of reincarnation.

That gold ingot now gleamed bright and yellow, with no trace of bloodstains.

Ruan Mingzhu staggered forward two steps, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and finally spent the last of her strength, fainting once more. Bai Su hurriedly caught her, checked her pulse, and said with a grave expression, "She was too reckless. We'll need to see my master."

After surviving such an ordeal, everyone was utterly exhausted. Lin Xunzhen helped Qing Zhouxue to her feet, and as they watched the two figures walk away, she coughed a few times. "You took quite a beating just now. Come on, let's get you some medicine too."

This troubling affair thus came to an end. A few days later, Qing Zhouxue and Lin Xunzhen gathered up Wang Wu's ashes and buried him by the bamboo stream.

The bamboo hut, no longer sustained by demonic power, collapsed into a pile of rotted bamboo, reverting to what it had been before.

Qing Zhouxue, passing by with her sword, caught a glimpse of something old among the broken bamboo.

It was a lifelike weasel figurine made of clay, squatting with a charmingly innocent expression inside a crudely built little shrine.

Rather than a shrine, it was better described as a carefully constructed small tower made of bricks.

So even that child had kept his promise after all.

*

The first round of training gradually came to an end. Lin Xunzhen asked many fellow disciples, and some of them had also encountered dangers—it wasn't all smooth sailing.

They had thought it would be easy, but very few teams managed to complete the teaching successfully. Most ended in chaos and confusion—most disciples found cultivation easy, but explaining it clearly to others required a thorough understanding that not all possessed.

At least the Sect Leader had been cautious, worried they might teach the mortals who sought to learn self-strengthening techniques into ruin, so he had only required the simplest method of guiding qi into the body.

But the results were still dismal.

Qing Zhouxue had heard from her master that the Sect Leader wasn't very pleased. She sighed softly. "On our end, we didn't manage to teach anyone either. And I heard ours was the only group that had a murder."

But her attitude was quite calm. "Still, since it's over, there's no point dwelling on it."

She removed Qingshuang Sword, took her leave of her master, and as usual, headed to the Main Peak to practice swordsmanship.

Autumn was at its deepest, and the maple leaves underfoot were crushed into mush. In the four years of coming and going, the many junior brothers at the Sword Pavilion had grown quite familiar with her.

The Sect Leader's disciples were all boys, lined up in a row, and Qing Zhouxue stood out among them like a white lotus blooming in a forest of trees—impossible to miss.

After practicing swordsmanship all morning, Qing Zhouxue was about to return to her peak when a junior brother called out to her. She stopped. "What is it?"

The young man looked nervous, his thumb subconsciously rubbing the knuckle of his bent index finger. "Senior... Senior Sister Qing, do you have time this afternoon?"

"Yes," she replied, puzzled. "Just say what you need."

"It's nothing much," he said, taking a deep breath. "It's the Moon Lantern Festival, and I wanted to invite you to sail on the lake at the center. It'll be lively tonight!"

"A festival..." Qing Zhouxue shook her head, seeming uninterested. She didn't pause, heading straight for Heyi Peak. "I'll pass."

After dismissing her flying sword, she walked in, removed her outer robe, caught a small petal of some unknown wildflower on it, and brushed it off.

Yun Shuchen tilted her head and smiled. "It's festival day today. Young people are all out courting, so why are you back here to cultivate again?"

"Mm." She didn't think anything of it.

Yun Shuchen held a teacup and raised her eyes to glance at the girl who quickly closed her eyes to meditate, sitting as still as a Buddha statue.

Ever since the training mission, her disciple had firmly maintained a reclusive style—each day, save for going to the Main Peak to study swordsmanship, she had no desire to go out more.

Cultivate, read, brew medicine, eat and drink. If she had any spare time, her gaze would drift to her master, carrying a hint of concern.

Yun Shuchen, who had lived over five hundred years, took a sip of tea and sighed inwardly. Perhaps she was aging prematurely—her eighteen-year-old disciple had already settled into a retirement lifestyle. That wasn't quite right.

Together on Heyi Peak, they looked out over the sounds of joy and laughter shrouded in mist below. Yun Shuchen said, "It's been so many years, and it's still the same."

Qing Zhouxue suddenly opened her eyes and asked, "When Master was young, did you join them too?"

"What do you think?"

The evening breeze played through her hair, carrying the fresh scent of mountain grasses. She gazed idly at the hazy silhouettes of distant peaks.

"It was lively back then. Of course, it was lively every year. At times like this, no one felt like studying or cultivating... As soon as classes ended, we'd scatter all over the mountains."

She glanced at her disciple. "Someone like you, always sticking close to your elders—that's rare."

Qing Zhouxue shook her head. "I just find crowds noisy. I don't like it much."

"Fine." Yun Shuchen sighed. "If you had been born a few hundred years earlier and studied under Lin Qingya, he would have been thrilled. Because every festival, my fellow senior and junior siblings would all vanish, not even a shadow of them to be found."

Qing Zhouxue followed up, "Where did they all go?"

Yun Shuchen turned back, thoughtful.

Then a smile curled at her lips.

"Are you really sure you want to know?"