Chapter 30#
Mad Talk#
Feng Xianyu slowly awoke.
He caught a faint glimmer of light against the gloomy sky and stared at Zhuo Yu’s chin for a long moment before realizing he was being carried horizontally in Zhuo Yu’s arms. Zhuo Yu, looking down from on high, had Lingzhao suspended in midair, his sword pointing at “Kong Yan,” who sat half on the ground, unable to move. The chilling sword intent ebbed and flowed like tidewater along the blade.
Seeing that Zhuo Yu was about to take “Kong Yan’s” life in a single strike, with the cold star reflected in his eyes, Feng Xianyu snapped fully awake. “Stay your hand!”
At these words, Lingzhao, less than a hair’s breadth from “Kong Yan’s” throat, came to an abrupt halt.
The burst of sword energy sheared off a long lock of his hair, and Lingzhao hummed and trembled, as if deeply reluctant.
Seeing that Kong Yan’s physical body was unharmed, Feng Xianyu finally let his heart settle back into his chest.
“A demon cultivator’s possession…” Before he could finish, his center of gravity suddenly shifted. Feng Xianyu was jostled by Zhuo Yu like a child being adjusted in someone’s arms, then firmly caught again. Flustered, Feng Xianyu scrambled to grab hold of Zhuo Yu’s neck, accidentally scratching his Adam’s apple in the process. When he recovered, he was thoroughly startled. Looking up into Zhuo Yu’s cold, familiar eyes, the words he had been about to say somehow circled in his mouth and were swallowed back down.
Just then, the demon cultivator wearing Kong Yan’s skin suddenly spat out a large mouthful of blood, splattering the ground.
Feng Xianyu’s attention immediately snapped back to Kong Yan.
Kong Yan’s eyes gradually cleared, and the demonic energy around him slowly receded. But the last thing he expected to see upon waking was his good friend being carried horizontally by that dead-faced senior brother—with a very obvious red scratch on Zhuo Yu’s neck.
In a surge of emotion, Kong Yan coughed up a second mouthful of blood he shouldn’t have spat.
“Kong Yan?!”
Seeing two gushes of heart blood, Feng Xianyu quickly pushed Zhuo Yu away, rolled over, and threw himself in front of Kong Yan. Without a second thought, he stuffed a large pile of spiritual pills into Kong Yan’s mouth. Then, remembering something, he whipped his head around and yelled at the stunned onlookers, “What are you standing around for? Hurry and fetch Ye Shu to save your young master!”
Only then did the Kong family members react. Flustered, they called to each other and ran back to Changfeng Hall to find Ye Shu.
Kong Yan raised a trembling hand and pointed at Feng Xianyu. “…You…”
“Me what?” Feng Xianyu asked, baffled.
Kong Yan didn’t answer. Instead, his trembling finger shifted to point at Zhuo Yu, who was now gripping Lingzhao again amid the rubble and walking over with a dark expression. “…You…”
Feng Xianyu turned around, only to see Zhuo Yu looking perfectly composed and noble. He frowned at Kong Yan. “What’s with that expression? Isn’t this normal?”
Kong Yan ached everywhere, his spiritual veins hollow from his shattered lifebound sword, and he couldn’t speak to defend himself. After a long while, he couldn’t force out anything meaningful.
Seeing Kong Yan’s twisted expression, Feng Xianyu suddenly had a revelation and clapped his hands.
“Is it that you’re mad at Zhuo Yu for stepping in? Didn’t I tell you? To fight a demon cultivator, we had to take action. It couldn’t be helped if you got caught in the crossfire. There was no other way! And urgency overrides everything, right? You promised in the dream you wouldn’t be angry, didn’t you?”
Zhuo Yu stood behind the crouching Feng Xianyu, gently patted his head, then looked up at Kong Yan with an impassive, coffin-like face.
Feng Xianyu kept rambling. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I have to say this fairly. Zhuo Yu might have a bad temper and be a bit cold, but his character is absolutely without fault. There must be some misunderstanding.”
—To hell with “without fault”!
To hell with “fairly”!
To hell with “misunderstanding”!
Seeing his friend’s utterly clueless face, Kong Yan was so furious that his heart blood surged, and he spat out a third mouthful. Zhuo Yu was quick. He bent down, reached over Feng Xianyu’s shoulder, grabbed his neck, and pulled him back, narrowly avoiding the range of Kong Yan’s blood.
Feng Xianyu grabbed Zhuo Yu’s forearm with both hands, staring blankly at the fresh blood on the ground. Then, with a sense of post-crisis relief, he thought: Good thing I didn’t get covered in Kong Yan’s blood.
Kong Yan could guess exactly what Feng Xianyu was thinking from his expression.
If only he had any blood left to spit—he would have aimed it right at Zhuo Yu! And Feng Xianyu wouldn’t escape either!
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Feng Xianyu spotted the music cultivator from the Ethereal Palace, who had previously appeared, running over with a zither on his back. He stopped, didn’t even catch his breath, and said to Kong Yan seriously, “Young Master Kong, Real Person Ye probably won’t have time to treat you right now. Your clan leader just had an attack!”
Kong Yan’s vision went dark.
Over at Changfeng Hall, after the Kong family members had torn Ye Shu away from Kong Ji’s side, they shoved him back in a last-ditch effort. The Kong family helped hold down the convulsing Kong Ji, even bringing out binding immortal ropes. Seven or eight people were drenched in sweat before they finally managed to tie Kong Ji back onto the bed.
“What’s going on?” one Kong family member asked. “Another qi deviation?”
Ye Shu rapidly sorted out Kong Ji’s spiritual veins and calmed his sea of consciousness, but he clearly sensed that the evil thing at Kong Ji’s heart was devouring his spiritual power at an even faster rate, even affecting his golden core.
What kind of evil thing was this?
How much did Feng Xianyu know?
A clatter of footsteps sounded, and someone at the door shouted, “The young master is here!”
Everyone immediately made way. Ji Yuan Dong supported Kong Yan as they staggered in.
Seeing his father convulsing uncontrollably on the bed like a demon possessed, Kong Yan felt his head roaring. He braced himself against a table to keep from collapsing, took a deep breath, and said to Ye Shu, “Real Person Ye, what’s wrong with my father? Did I injure him?”
“He is injured, but that’s not the main issue.” Ye Shu’s brows were knit so tightly they could crush an elephant. “If I’m not mistaken, an evil thing is attached to your clan leader’s heart. It’s feeding on his golden core. But I can’t tell what it is—I’ve never seen anything like it.”
An evil thing?
Feng Xianyu had arrived just in time to hear those words, and a sense of foreboding washed over him.
He exchanged a glance with Zhuo Yu, then both of them looked at Kong Ji’s heart.
Could it be that flower again? What was its connection with A Lan and the demon cultivator that had just appeared? Had they brought it?
Ye Shu also spotted Feng Xianyu in the crowd, his expression complicated. On the bed, Kong Ji suddenly let out a beast-like howl. Kong Yan’s hand clenched immediately, veins bulging on his pale, weakened face.
“This is no small matter,” Ye Shu said with unusual gravity. “I can’t resolve this on my own, young master. I must inform my master.”
The master of Xuanji Mountain, Qin Ge.
At that moment, the hall buzzed with discussion. A Kong family member stepped forward to advise, “If Mountain Lord Qin finds out, won’t the whole world know?”
“Yes, young master, think carefully!”
Ye Shu said coldly, “If you want to keep it secret, you’ll have to kill me, Daoist Ji of the Ethereal Palace, and these two daoists from Qingdu Mountain. Then you might have a chance.”
The man stammered, then turned shame into anger. He was about to retort, but before he could speak, Kong Yan cut him off with a sharp shout. “Shut up.”
With Kong Ji bedridden, Kong Yan was the undisputed authority of the Azure Sparrow Sect. Even if they were unwilling, the others had no choice but to fall silent and bow their heads, waiting for Kong Yan’s decision. Kong Yan didn’t hesitate long. He turned his wrist, and spiritual power formed a small azure sparrow. It flapped its wings once or twice and flew outward.
He was actually going to lift the mountain-sealing order directly.
At that moment, the east grew pale, and daylight broke.
“Wait.”
A pair of Daoist partners spoke simultaneously. Feng Xianyu found them familiar, and as the crowd parted, he remembered. When he and Zhuo Yu were entering Peach Blossom Hall, this couple had been among the onlookers outside—likely Kong Xiaoyun’s grieving parents.
Kong Xiaoyun’s father, who looked very much like his son, glanced around at the crowd and said, “My son died unjustly. Good nephew, show me a clear path—who do I go to for Xiaoyun’s life?”
The hall fell into sudden silence.
“This… I have wronged you.” Kong Yan’s expression was grim, and in his hand he still held the broken Liuguang sword. “I didn’t know A Lan still harbored a grudge against me and my father, and chose this time to come after us.”
It was like a stone thrown into a thousand waves.
“A Lan? Which A Lan?”
“Could it be that demon cultivator who killed Real Person Zhong back then?”
“Which Real Person Zhong?”
“Tsk, don’t you know? Real Person Zhong was the clan leader’s Dao partner—the young master’s biological mother!”
Murmurs rippled. Kong Xiaoyun’s father asked, “What do you mean?”
“Possession.” Kong Yan turned and sat on the edge of Kong Ji’s bed. “I was careless and fell for his trick.”
Ye Shu interjected, “Everyone, I am Senior Sister Ni’s senior brother. I can testify that before they entered Peach Blossom Hall, they had already died. When my master arrives, he will surely seek justice for Senior Sister Ni.”
“This so-called A Lan you mentioned…” Kong Xiaoyun’s mother gripped her sword, her lips trembling. “Where is he now?”
“Naturally, in the Demon Palace,” Kong Yan replied. “Thanks to the two Daoist friends from Qingdu Mountain, he was driven out.”
Feng Xianyu felt something was very off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
The crowd pressed for more about A Lan, especially Ye Shu, but Kong Yan raised his voice and waved his sleeve with slight impatience. “We’ll talk after Mountain Lord Qin arrives.”
Ye Shu had also sent a spiritual message to Xuanji Mountain. He turned and saw Feng Xianyu pressed close to his senior brother, sitting behind a pillar. The red and white figures were hidden in the shadows, apparently talking.
A slender, snow-white hand rested at the edge of the shadow, almost dazzling.
Ye Shu couldn’t help but move a few steps closer. The voices of the two brothers drifted into his ears like tiny flying insects. He heard Feng Xianyu say, “Before I woke up, what was that demon cultivator saying?”
“Just mad talk,” Zhuo Yu replied.
Feng Xianyu asked doubtfully, “But I thought I heard something about heart demons and suffering?”
Zhuo Yu’s tone was indifferent. “You misheard.”
By nearly noon, a patch of auspicious clouds appeared on the horizon, followed by the outline of Xuanji Mountain’s spirit boat.
Ye Shu exclaimed joyfully, “Master is here!”
As the words fell, a resounding crane cry rang out, and the wooden spirit boat landed with a thunderous crash.
A cultivator in a deep blue, wide-sleeved robe appeared leisurely, a fine rectangular ink jade pendant with a blue tassel at his waist, a bamboo fan in his hand, and a lazy smile on his face. Behind him trailed a long line of disciples dressed similarly to Ye Shu, arranged in a V-formation like a flock of geese given human form.
This was the master of Xuanji Mountain, Qin Ge.
Qin Ge looked very young, nothing like one of the great powers in charge of the seven major sects.
Ye Shu hurried forward to bow. “Disciple Ye Shu pays respects to Master.”
“Rise.” Qin Ge fanned himself and cut straight to the point without wasting words. “Young master, where is your clan leader?”
Once seated, without even taking a pulse, Qin Ge sighed. “This is the work of the Demon Lord Qisha.”