Chapter 12#

“Hss.”

Yulin’s brow furrowed as he pressed a hand to the side of his head. His body felt weightless and unsteady, his mind dull and sluggish.

Sunlight streamed in through the window. It was already well into morning.

He glanced sideways. Chongwu Immortal Lord sat on the cushion beside him with his eyes lightly closed, deep in meditative breathing.

“Alin, are you feeling better?”

Sensing that he had woken, Chongwu Immortal Lord rose to his feet.

He gently placed his hand on Yulin’s wrist and examined his condition once more.

Yulin’s wrist was caught off guard by the warmth. He pulled his hand back in distaste, the distance in his eyes plain for anyone to see.

“A little better.”

Yulin looked him over and decided he was putting on an act, so he said with a sneer: “Why aren’t you with your precious little disciple? What are you doing here with me?”

Chongwu Immortal Lord’s expression darkened when he heard this. He looked at Yulin’s wound, still seeping blood, and said in a low voice: “You have the nerve to worry about other people right now? Do you even know how close you just came to demonic corruption?”

Yulin stilled for a moment, then fell silent for a long while. Finally, in a quiet yet stubborn voice, he said: “Even if I fall to demonic corruption, it’s none of your business.”

Hearing this, Chongwu Immortal Lord felt a flare of inexplicable fury rise in his chest. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing?!”

He was just about to lash out when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

— Yuanzhi Sword Venerable walked in.

“Young friend, you’re awake?” He came forward at a leisurely pace and smiled warmly at Yulin.

Yulin forced himself upright and managed a smile. “Thanks to the Sword Venerable stepping in and stopping the demonic cultivator in time — I’m much better now.”

Yuanzhi Sword Venerable was slightly taken aback. It had clearly been Chongwu Immortal Lord who had moved first to subdue the demonic cultivator.

He instinctively glanced at Chongwu Immortal Lord, who stood in grim silence, saying nothing.

He had no idea what the strange tension between these two was about, but somehow found himself going along with what Yulin had said: “As long as you’re all right.”

Yuanzhi Sword Venerable then explained the situation to them both. The Shanhai Sect possessed a rare and extraordinary treasure. He had sent them a letter some time ago, requesting that they send someone to the Sword Tournament to get to the bottom of things.

“Has the Shanhai Sect replied?”

Yuanzhi Sword Venerable nodded. “A reply was indeed received. I could sense when the carrier pigeon entered Shanhai Sect territory and was taken in. What I did not expect was that the demonic faction got ahead of us. They intercepted the message and planted someone here.”

“How did the demonic cultivators know that you sent a letter? Has the Shanhai Sect already been infiltrated — is it no longer safe?”

Yuanzhi Sword Venerable’s expression was troubled. He sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

“The Shanhai Sect guards the key to the Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm. Long ago, when the demonic faction invaded, they plundered secret texts and treasures from many sects and stored them within the Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm. The ancestors of the Shanhai Sect fought a great battle against the Demon Lord of that era and sealed the Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm away.”

“The Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm has not been opened in over a hundred years. If it is unsealed this time, there will surely be rivers of blood.”

When he finished speaking, Yuanzhi Sword Venerable seemed to remember something and turned to Chongwu Immortal Lord. “Chongwu, if I recall, you were present during that battle as well.”

Chongwu Immortal Lord had been lost in thought, but he looked up when his name was called. “I was.”

“That person from the Shanhai Sect… I don’t know whether she is still alive today. After the great battle, her soul was damaged, and she led the Shanhai Sect into seclusion. Now it seems the demonic cultivators have gone to find them first.”

The moment he heard “Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm,” Yulin sat up straight, his full attention engaged.

In his previous life, he had stumbled through the Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm in a daze, without knowing there was such a history behind it. If he could learn more now — perhaps his senior brothers and sisters…

“Sword Venerable, are you setting out for the Shanhai Sect soon? Would you take me along?”

“Alin, absolutely not!” Chongwu Immortal Lord cut in and refused without a moment’s hesitation.

Yuanzhi Sword Venerable said unhurriedly: “Young friend, you may not be aware — the demonic cultivator who wounded you yesterday was no small threat. He had concealed his demonic aura completely; even those sent to investigate could detect nothing. So regarding the demonic cultivators at the Shanhai Sect…”

He understood what Yuanzhi Sword Venerable was leaving unsaid. The Shanhai Sect must be extremely dangerous right now.

But intelligence about the Demonic Gate’s Secret Realm was far too rare an opportunity. He truly did not want to miss it.

Seeing the stubborn look in his eyes, Yuanzhi Sword Venerable spoke: “If the young friend is set on going, then let Chongwu take you along — that would put my mind at ease.”

He then turned to Chongwu Immortal Lord. “Chongwu, you know the events of those years, and you understand that person’s mind better than anyone. Would you be willing to go?”

Chongwu Immortal Lord’s eyes were deep and unreadable. After a long pause, he gave a quiet sound of assent.

With the serious matters settled, Yuanzhi Sword Venerable smiled at Yulin. “This time, through a strange turn of fate, the young friend ended up being used as bait. That truly is a fault of mine.”

He turned and gave a look to the disciple standing behind him. The disciple stepped forward, carrying a sword case.

“I noticed earlier that the young friend seemed interested in this sword — it must be fate. Let me give it to you as an apology. What do you say?”

Yulin looked at the sword with a slightly puzzled tilt of his brow. “What about the rest of the tournament?”

Yuanzhi Sword Venerable shook his head. “Now that every sect knows of the demonic cultivator’s intrusion, fear and unrest have spread widely. There are surely many who have their eye on the Shanhai Sect. A number of sects have already sent people ahead. I’m afraid this Sword Tournament will have to come to an early close.”

Yulin looked down at the sword case holding the Floating Water Sword.

Sensing his presence, the Floating Water Sword hummed softly from within.

He had never intended to obtain it in this manner, but since the Sword Venerable had brought the Floating Water Sword to him, he naturally had no wish to refuse.

He closed his eyes briefly, then reached out with both hands and accepted the case.

The wooden box carried the weathered feeling of time — slightly worn to the touch, its grain somewhat mottled, yet perfectly intact. Its previous owner had clearly treated it with care, never allowing it to suffer so much as a scratch.

After accepting the sword case, he smoothed his robes, gave himself a brief tidy, and made to leave.

But a hand caught his wrist.

“Your wounds haven’t healed. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To clear my head.”

Yulin frowned, a faint edge of impatience in his expression.

Chongwu Immortal Lord forced the corners of his mouth up slightly. “Looking at you, I’d say just the sight of me puts you on edge.”

“Alin, what’s gotten into you? You’ve been so distant with me lately.” Chongwu Immortal Lord set aside the pride befitting his station as a master and asked quietly.

Yulin was silent for a very long time — silent until all the tension drained from his body.

At last, little by little, he withdrew his hand. “I had a dream. I dreamed I was covered in wounds, head to toe. Now I can’t bring myself to be close to you anymore.”

……

Clouds and mist rose at the mountain’s peak, carrying moisture that swept against his face. Yulin stepped out of the guest room, the fine droplets catching on his lashes.

Mountains encircled him on all sides, their abundant spiritual energy drifting through the air.

He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now that he was outside, he could hear sounds coming from the room next door. This place was not usually used to house guests — so who was in there?

With a loud thud, the guest room door was shoved open hard from the inside.

“Master! Master!” Yuming came rushing out, ran up behind him, and seized Chongwu Immortal Lord’s wrist in a tight grip.

“Yuling… Yuling, he— just go and see for yourself!”

Chongwu Immortal Lord instinctively glanced at Yulin, then turned to Yuming with a furrowed brow. “What are you panicking for? The antidote has already been taken, hasn’t it?”

“It has been taken! But — something is wrong with him.” Yuming felt he couldn’t explain it clearly. He grabbed him by the arm and tugged him forward. “Master, just come and look first!”

Seeing the state Yuming was in, Chongwu Immortal Lord said the words “I’m not worried” — but went along without resisting as Yuming pulled him inside.

Yulin stood where he was, looked down at the sword case in his hands, and then slowly followed them in.

He pushed the door open. There lay Yuling on the bed, his face white as a sheet and drained of all color, his expression docile without a trace of violence or malice.

Plagued by nightmares, he was knitting his brows faintly in his sleep.

Yuming drew Chongwu Immortal Lord to the bedside and said urgently: “Master, his pulse is extremely erratic. And looking at his spiritual veins, he—”

Yuming fumbled for words, the rest of what he wanted to say seeming to lodge in his throat and refuse to come out.

Chongwu Immortal Lord gently lifted Yuling from the bed, cradled him in his arms, and channeled his spiritual energy inward to observe the flow of power within him.

The spiritual energy inside Yuling’s body was careening about with no order or direction. Not only had his dan tian been damaged, but his internal organs — left without the protection of spiritual energy — had suffered impact as well.

He then placed his hand over Yuling’s pulse. The pulse was blocked and sluggish, and the blockage showed faint signs of spreading toward the heart meridian.

Chongwu Immortal Lord had not expected Yuling’s injuries to be this severe.

The moment his spiritual energy entered the body, Yuling’s brow creased deeply. His eyelids strained to open, but to no avail; his body jerked and shuddered in repeated spasms.

Then, suddenly, Yuling’s eyes flew wide open. His body lurched forward and he began coughing violently — and then he spat out a great mouthful of blood.

Into Chongwu Immortal Lord’s mind floated the words Yuming had left unfinished earlier: he… is finished.

His gaze snapped to the small porcelain vial sitting to one side. He picked it up and asked Yuming in a low, hard voice: “Is this what you gave him?”

Yuming froze. “Yes.”

Chongwu Immortal Lord gripped the vial so hard it nearly shattered, his expression dark as a storm. “Wenjin…”

At the sound of Wenjin’s name, Yulin startled and looked at the vial.

Wasn’t that the antidote Wenjin had given them just now?

The image of Wenjin’s smiling face rose in his mind. Then he looked at Yuling lying there, his face drained of all color — and a chill crept over him.

Hadn’t Wenjin said it would only make Yuling suffer for a short while? Looking at the state of things now, he couldn’t help thinking this looked like… like someone trying to kill Yuling.

His face showed bewilderment. Before he could speak, Yuming’s voice came through gritted teeth:

“Yulin, how wonderful — so many people are out there bearing burdens for you, willing to risk offending Fusheng Sect just to vent your grievances.”

Yulin stood there with no way to defend himself against the scene before him. His head was buzzing. He had never imagined Wenjin capable of something like this. And at that moment — Yuling woke up.

Yuling had not a shred of strength left in his body. When he opened his eyes, his first instinct sent him pitching forward, and he was caught by Chongwu Immortal Lord.

He seemed to sense something. His body went rigid, then began to tremble. He slowly raised his hands — and saw how limp and powerless they were.

— Channeling spiritual energy, the most ordinary thing in the world to him, had become an impossible luxury.

His heart pounded frantically. He needed an answer — needed to have the fear growing inside him disproved. Yuling said in a dazed voice: “Master… Senior Brother. What’s wrong with me?”

He was trying hard to stay outwardly calm, but the stifled sob he could not keep from his voice betrayed him. “Will I get better? Or will I… be like this from now on?”

Yuming looked at him — eyes brimming with tears — and couldn’t bear it. He turned his face away and said softly: “Ah Ling… Ah Ling, listen to me. We’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives. You’re still our little junior brother.”

These words, in their implicit acceptance, struck Yuling like a blow to the head and nearly drove him out of his mind.

The shock left him dizzy and disoriented.

Then, as if some sudden thought had seized him, he turned his eyes — a flicker of dread lurking within them — toward Chongwu Immortal Lord.