Chapter 1#

Chapter 1 Senior Brother#

A heavy blow struck his chest, Feng Xianyu’s vision swam with stars from the pain. He plummeted downward like a meteor, but in midair, he twisted his body by sheer instinct. With no strength left to condense spiritual energy into arrows, he could only use the bow as a crude weapon, barely blocking the Demon Lord’s mountain-crushing sword strike.

“Clang!”

In that instant of lightning and thunder, the Demon Lord’s ghostly face, hidden in shadow, was hideous and terrifying.

“Still not willing to admit defeat?” the Demon Lord sneered. “Feng Xianyu!”

The divine bow “Qiqi” was already at its limit. Even at the first clash of weapons, Feng Xianyu could no longer hold his hand seals, let alone when he was already severely injured. His spiritual energy gushed out like a burst dam. He endured the pain, holding on for two more breaths, but finally couldn’t sustain it. A mournful, clanging cry rang out—like a hero’s roar at the end of his road—and then, under Feng Xianyu’s bleak gaze, the bow emitted an ominous green light. The radiant glow gradually extinguished, and with a final snap, the golden bow shattered into pieces.

A mouthful of bitter, bloody heart’s essence rushed to Feng Xianyu’s throat. He felt as though every bone and spiritual vein in his body had been ground to dust. The destruction of his lifebound weapon pushed him into the abyss of death. Besides, he was still falling fast—even if the Demon Lord didn’t kill him, he’d likely be smashed into a bloody pulp.

Feng Xianyu thought dazedly, “My life ends here!”

The Demon Lord’s sword thrust forward without pause, arriving in an instant. There was no chance to escape. Feng Xianyu had lived a wild, unrestrained youth, but fate was unpredictable. Now, with a long list of regrets, he could only die with hatred in his heart. His body temperature plummeted, yet in a daze, he felt his whole body grow hot. Even the Dao partner mark on the back of his neck burned. His vision blurred into chaos. It seemed he saw many people standing before him—some real, some fake—none of them clear.

In his youth, Feng Xianyu had been flamboyant, loving to wear red. Now, still in a red robe, he fell like a fire phoenix in the blazing, fierce sunset. The crowd saw a flash of golden light appear within that piercing red, and the Demon Lord’s face changed instantly.

Gasps came from the cultivators on the ground:

“Jingling Immortal Lord has self-detonated his golden core!——”

The Dao partner mark on the white-robed swordsman’s neck, which had existed for over twenty years, finally dissipated into nothingness.

…

“Little Senior Brother! Little Senior Brother!”

Feng Xianyu’s head ached from the noise, and he was so annoyed he wanted to throw something—whatever was at hand. Fortunately, he only thought about it and didn’t actually do it. After a long while, he reluctantly woke up.

The moment he opened his eyes, he saw seven or eight heads gathered around him like stars around the moon. These junior disciples had eyes so clear they bordered on foolish. As soon as they saw Feng Xianyu awake, they broke into delighted shouts:

“Little Senior Brother is awake!”

“He’s finally awake!”

“Go fetch the Senior Brother!”

Their chattering and babbling made Feng Xianyu’s already painful head hurt even more. His spiritual veins felt empty and sore, and he couldn’t lift a single finger.

Hadn’t he died? Why couldn’t he get any peace?

Finally, one disciple with a bit of awareness noticed his bad expression and quickly gestured for everyone to quiet down.

Feng Xianyu felt as if pardoned. He breathed a sigh of relief and silently decided to give this clever one a generous reward.

But when he looked up, he froze.

The disciples exchanged glances, bewildered, not understanding why Feng Xianyu had that expression.

The junior disciple who had called for silence boldly asked, “Little Senior Brother, what’s wrong?”

After a long pause, Feng Xianyu said, “You… are Xiang Wan?”

“That’s right!” Xiang Wan scratched his head, confused, and asked cautiously, “Is something wrong?”

As if in a dream, Feng Xianyu answered irrelevantly: “What year, month, and day is it now?”

Though everyone was baffled, Xiang Wan answered honestly, “The third year of Jinhui, the fifth day of the seventh month.”

Feng Xianyu felt as if struck by lightning. He finally realized what had been bothering him about the address he’d been hearing: “Just now you said… Zhuo Yu?”

“Yes, yes.” Xiang Wan brightened up. “I brought them out to eliminate the demon, and we encountered a snake demon. Fortunately, the two senior brothers arrived in time, or we would have suffered heavy losses.”

“Then… him?”

“The Senior Brother went to change clothes,” Xiang Wan replied. “I’ve already sent a junior to fetch him. The Senior Brother will be very happy to know you’re awake.”

A timid junior disciple said, “Senior Brother is still injured.”

“Shh!” Xiang Wan quickly hushed him.

“What?” Feng Xianyu couldn’t help exclaiming. “Zhuo Yu is injured?!”

Before Xiang Wan could speak, the door of the room suddenly pushed open. Feng Xianyu stopped breathing, not daring to blink.

In a moment, a handsome white-robed swordsman carrying a sword stepped over the threshold, as if a snowstorm had burst into the room. His face was frighteningly cold—Feng Xianyu was very familiar with Zhuo Yu’s expression. In his previous life, he too had been silent and expressionless all day, living like a human-shaped block of ice, with frost at the corners of his eyes and brows.

But this time, a much younger Zhuo Yu had a strip of white gauze covering his eyes. It was just simple white gauze, but when it draped down, it was like a Milky Way.

“Senior Brother!” Xiang Wan and the others said in unison, quickly bowing.

Zhuo Yu only nodded slightly, then tossed a glass bottle to Xiang Wan. Feng Xianyu looked closely and saw that inside were a pair of eyeballs still stained with blood!

Now Feng Xianyu understood why Zhuo Yu had to go change clothes.

With steady steps, Zhuo Yu passed through the crowd, walked straight to Feng Xianyu’s bed, lowered his brows, and “looked” at the stunned Feng Xianyu. Everyone was silent, afraid to disturb them, until Zhuo Yu suddenly raised his hand and did something that dumbfounded Feng Xianyu and everyone else—

This snow-white swordsman suddenly reached out to Feng Xianyu. Caught off guard, Feng Xianyu felt his chin lifted by Zhuo Yu, and he shivered from the cold. Instinctively, he grabbed Zhuo Yu’s wrist, but the other’s hand was like iron vice, firmly gripping his jaw.

Feng Xianyu gave up: “What are you—Mmm!”

Before he could finish, a spirit pill was shoved into his mouth, blocking his words. Feng Xianyu held it in his mouth, whimpering, his face full of shock.

“I washed my hands. It’s not dirty.” Zhuo Yu remained unmoved, slowly and forcefully pushing the pill in with his fingertip. Then he brushed Feng Xianyu’s brow and said condescendingly, “Just a minor injury. No need to worry.”

A warm spiritual breath flowed through his whole body, a stark contrast to Zhuo Yu’s cold fingers.

Feng Xianyu’s gaze remained fixed on the white gauze over Zhuo Yu’s eyes and the silver runes flowing within it, and on that handsome, young face. Only after a long while did he realize that Zhuo Yu was answering his earlier question.

Even after Zhuo Yu withdrew his hand, Feng Xianyu continued to stare blankly.

So he hadn’t died; he had been reborn, Feng Xianyu thought in disbelief. Reborn right after he had just formed his golden core.

At this time, Zhuo Yu was only Feng Xianyu’s senior brother, not yet his Dao partner.

The third year of Jinhui, the fifth day of the seventh month. A group of disciples from Qingdu Mountain went out to train and eliminate demons. On the road, they were ambushed by a snake demon. In desperation, they sent out a signal for help.

At that time, Feng Xianyu happened to be on his way back from visiting friends at the Quesque Sect. He crossed paths with Zhuo Yu, who had come upon hearing the news, and they joined forces to slay the demon. Everything went smoothly, but then the snake demon, in a last-ditch effort, launched a final attack. It pulled everyone into an illusion and spat a powerful snake venom at the nearest disciple, then fled.

Feng Xianyu remembered that in the past, he had blocked the snake venom, but it splashed into his eyes, burning and stinging, torturing him for over a month. Unfortunately, Feng Xianyu was an archer; eyes were of the utmost importance to him.

In this life, the one whose eyes were injured by the snake venom turned out to be Zhuo Yu. Feng Xianyu was extremely puzzled. Could it be that his personality in this life had changed, even losing his good habit of helping others?

“It’s just a minor injury. No need to worry.”

Zhuo Yu’s voice seemed to echo in his ears again. Feng Xianyu couldn’t help thinking to himself: How could it be a minor injury? Zhuo Yu was talking nonsense.

“What are you looking at?” Zhuo Yu suddenly asked.

Xiang Wan and the others: “?”

“Not looking at anything,” someone mumbled.

Having grown up together and been Dao partners for so many years, Feng Xianyu twitched the corner of his mouth, knowing the question was for him. He answered offhandedly, “Looking at how handsome you are.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Feng Xianyu heard everyone in the room gasp sharply.

Someone whispered, “Little Senior Brother has never said such a thing to Senior Brother. Maybe he mistook someone?”

Immediately, someone gave a fierce “Shh.”

Feng Xianyu: “…”

Everyone held their breath, eyes darting between Zhuo Yu and Feng Xianyu.

Feng Xianyu had spoken without thinking, and now he belatedly realized what he had said. His mind went blank. He nearly bit his tongue, afraid Zhuo Yu would be angry. But when he looked up, Zhuo Yu didn’t seem angry. After a long moment, he just said a calm, slow “Oh.”

Oh.

Oh?

What does “Oh” mean?

But from Zhuo Yu’s face, he couldn’t read anything more. Feng Xianyu was puzzled, wondering what to say next. However, Zhuo Yu, as if nothing had happened, spoke: “Your spiritual veins are empty due to just forming your golden core. Your realm is unstable. It’s best not to use your hands.”

Feng Xianyu quickly took the opportunity to back down: “Yes, yes. Senior Brother is right.”

Zhuo Yu’s face was expressionless: “Little junior brother is obedient.”

What did he say?!

Feng Xianyu had heard many people call him obedient, but he never thought he would hear that word from Zhuo Yu. He was so shocked his mouth fell open, and all the hair on his body stood on end. But Zhuo Yu had already turned away and calmly ordered the disciples to close the doors and windows, preparing to rest.

“Yes, yes.” Xiang Wan adhered to the principle of seniority. “There may be more changes at night. Tomorrow morning, we’ll see how to leave this illusion.”

The others dispersed to various corners, some meditating, some sleeping. Feng Xianyu kept thinking wildly.

Zhuo Yu sat upright at the table. Feng Xianyu looked at the white gauze over his eyes, then at himself. He felt a bit embarrassed to hog the only bed in the room while being the “injured party.” After struggling for a while, he finally called out “Zhuo Yu’s” name.

Zhuo Yu turned his face. Feng Xianyu knew he was looking at him, so he said, “I’m fine now. Why don’t you sleep on the bed?”

Feng Xianyu thought Zhuo Yu wouldn’t come, and he had already planned an alternative: “Even if he doesn’t come, I’ll ask someone else to sleep on the bed. I’m a perfectly fine person and a senior brother; it’s not right for me to hog the bed alone.” But to his surprise, he heard Zhuo Yu say “Alright” in that extremely calm voice.

Feng Xianyu’s mind stalled. Before he could process what he said, Zhuo Yu was already walking straight toward him. Feng Xianyu looked wary: “What are you doing?”

“Didn’t you call me over to sleep?” Zhuo Yu said lightly, not looking at the flustered Feng Xianyu. He simply lay down on the outer side of the bed, movements smooth and natural. After closing his eyes, he even said serenely, “Go to sleep.”

Feng Xianyu: “???”

Holy shit… Feng Xianyu was completely stunned. He had clearly intended to let Zhuo Yu lie down and then go sit at the table himself. How did it turn into sharing a bed? This wasn’t right. Had Zhuo Yu been possessed or something? Why was he like a different person? What was going on?!

As soon as he lay down on the bed, the pungent scent of acorus on Zhuo Yu wafted out. Probably because he had just gotten blood on him, he used more fragrance. It enveloped Feng Xianyu heavily.

Zhuo Yu lay very properly, his lips gently pressed together, thin and seemingly bloodless.

Seeing this, Feng Xianyu suddenly remembered the afternoon of the day after they had formed the bond in his previous life. He and his friend—Kong Yan of the Quesque Sect—were sitting by the rockery in the garden drinking. They lamented Feng Xianyu’s lost bachelor days. Kong Yan winked and asked him how it felt. Feng Xianyu shook his wine jug, lost in thought for a long time. Kong Yan waited for a while, getting bored and yawning, when he suddenly heard Feng Xianyu speak:

“Though he looks icy cold, he’s actually quite soft.”

Kong Yan looked as if he had seen a ghost: “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You said it yourself—it’s just nonsense.” Feng Xianyu said listlessly.

Just then, Zhuo Yu drifted past the front yard like a cloud, tall and elegant. He expressionlessly glanced at the two lazy bones. Feng Xianyu instinctively straightened his back. Seeing this, Kong Yan said seriously to Feng Xianyu, “I heard mortals say ‘marriage is like entering a tomb.’ Yu, if you ever plan to come back to life, remember to let your brother fish you out.”

He also patted Feng Xianyu on the shoulder.

Ah, he hadn’t even had time to dig himself out of the grave. In his previous life, right up until his death, the Dao partner mark had been firmly imprinted on him, Feng Xianyu.

Thinking of this, Feng Xianyu closed his eyes, too lazy to ponder. After all, they had been married in the past life. Sleeping together a few more times in this life wouldn’t be a big deal. So he simply lay down beside Zhuo Yu.

There was only a small flame in one corner of the room, and it was silent.

Since he had been sleeping for too long, Feng Xianyu wasn’t tired. First, he tried to recall events from the third year of Jinhui. Unfortunately, his memory was poor. After thinking for a while, he only remembered that he had given the culprit a serious beating. He couldn’t recall anything else. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zhuo Yu’s extremely cold profile. He seemed utterly devoid of passion, the perfect candidate for the emotionless path. So he thought to himself: Should he still follow his father’s wishes and form a bond in this life?

His father was just making a blind match. If they didn’t like each other, why should they form a bond?

Feng Xianyu’s mind wandered, and just before he fell into a deep sleep, he had a dream.