Chapter 1#
“Su Xue! Su Xue? Are you awake?”
Someone shouted outside the house.
…Su Xue?
Who?
What a familiar name.
An Wuxue pulled back the quilt and slowly sat up.
He had been dreaming all night, and even after waking, his mind was in a daze. It took a long while for him to realize that daylight had arrived.
The side window was not closed, and the morning’s cold wind whistled incessantly. Deprived of the quilt’s cover, the chill finally found an opportunity to slip into his sleeves.
He had forgotten that he no longer had his profound spiritual power to ward off the cold. Not taking it seriously, he was nonetheless jolted into a shiver by the cold.
So cold.
He leaned out, intending to close the ajar side window. Just as he raised his hand, he saw that the palms of his hands were exceptionally delicate.
He had held a sword for many years, and the sword calluses on his palms had never faded.
These were not his former hands.
“Su—Xue—!!!”
The person outside was still shouting.
There was more than one visitor. Another steadier voice asked, “The time to leave the mountain has arrived. Is Young Master Su awake?”
“Definitely not!” the shouter said. “He hung a Soul Bell at the door. I’ll try ringing the Soul Bell.”
A Soul Bell is a magical tool used by cultivators for soul-transmission. It makes no sound; the ringing can only be heard by the divine soul.
An Wuxue was still staring blankly at his palms where no calluses could be found when the “ding-dong” sound went straight into his divine soul.
So noisy.
He woke up instantly.
The person outside the door was calling him.
Su Xue, that was his current identity.
He was someone whose soul had left his body after death.
In his previous life, his golden body and jade bones were all shattered. He was surrounded and hunted by the top experts of the cultivation world, with no way out.
With his last breath, he returned to Luoyue Peak, the sect where he was born. It happened to be when his junior brother’s Path of Heartlessness reached completion and he emerged from seclusion as an immortal.
At that time, the tribulation clouds at the summit of Luoyue Peak dispersed, pure energy surged from all directions, frost descended, and a thousand winds brought snow.
He saw Xie Zhefeng standing on the long steps behind the mountain gate.
This was his only junior brother, and also the person he had assisted with all his might to stabilize his position as the Immortal Venerable.
While he was struggling in his death throes, his junior brother had successfully crossed the tribulation, his path to immortality smooth.
He wanted to congratulate his junior brother on his ascension and emergence from seclusion.
He wanted to ask if his junior brother had been injured during the tribulation.
But as he stumbled before Xie Zhefeng, he met his junior brother’s indifferent, emotionless, and heartless gaze.
His junior brother stepped on the silver frost covering the ground, walking down the long steps step by step, looking down at his pathetic self.
He swallowed all those words.
He leaned on his sword, trying to stand up.
But his hands were shaking. He could no longer hold the sword steadily.
“Junior brother,” in the end, he only said, “it hurts so much.”
But all he got in return was a cold sentence.
“Senior brother, this is… what… you… deserve.”
The sword light fell accordingly.
He didn’t die in the siege, but under the sword of his only junior brother.
Before his consciousness dissipated, he only had time to see his junior brother turn around without any lingering affection and walk up the long steps, his back hidden behind the wind and snow, gradually moving further away.
He thought that was the last glimpse of the world he would ever see, and that thereafter his bones would be lost, his soul extinguished, and he would have no more connection to this world.
But he didn’t.
His consciousness was half-awake and half-asleep, constantly reliving the nightmares from before and after his death, not knowing where he had drifted.
Best friends turning their swords against each other, fellow disciples speaking cold words, junior brother looking down with contempt…
Everyone wanted him to die.
An Wuxue passed an unknown number of winters and summers in such a daze until he woke up yesterday. A thousand years had already passed in the cultivation and mortal worlds.
The most absurd thing was—he was actually still at Luoyue Peak.
He had become a person named Su Xue.
Su Xue was a furnace found by the Yunjian Sect from the mortal world.
The Yunjian Sect used spiritual medicines to stack Su Xue’s cultivation to the Fasting (Bigu) stage and presented him to Immortal Chu Han, Xie Zhefeng.
And his junior brother, who had entered the path through heartlessness, somehow decided to actually keep Su Xue at Luoyue Peak.
The Yunjian Sect was overjoyed and left two disciples to look after Su Xue—the two people shouting outside the house.
The one with the bad temper was called Yun Zhou, and the steady one was Yun Zhou’s senior brother, called Yun Yao. Both were in the Minor Achievement (Xiaocheng) stage.
An Wuxue had been in a daze for a long time yesterday, and finally woke from the thousand-year dream, realizing his current situation and identity.
Su Xue was Xie Zhefeng’s dual-cultivation furnace.
Xie Zhefeng…
Of all people, it had to be Xie Zhefeng.
During these thousand years of drifting, what he dreamed of most was the back of Xie Zhefeng walking up the steps behind the frost and snow.
Xie Zhefeng was his obsession in his previous life.
But this obsession was cut clean by Xie Zhefeng the moment the Chu Han sword light fell.
He didn’t want to see Xie Zhefeng again.
Xie Zhefeng was now the number one person in the world. Naturally, he couldn’t go to Xie Zhefeng to court death. No matter what, leaving first was the best plan.
Last night, he had made up an excuse to go to the mortal world to buy supplies and asked Yun Zhou and Yun Yao to borrow a spirit boat. He intended to have them take him out when the night curfew was lifted and the Luoyue mountain gate could be passed freely.
An Wuxue rolled out of bed, hastily threw on an outer robe, put on the bamboo hat he had prepared last night to isolate divine sense, walked quickly to the door, and pulled the door open.
Yun Zhou was already shouting impatiently outside and was about to kick the door in.
The door happened to open, and Yun Zhou, failing to stand firm, let out an “ouch” and fell forward.
An Wuxue immediately stepped aside.
Yun Zhou didn’t expect An Wuxue not to catch him. He hurriedly summoned his spirit sword to stabilize himself and said angrily, “Su Xue, you—!!”
Yun Yao advised from behind, “Junior brother, getting angry is not good for cultivation.”
An Wuxue had spent most of his previous life being the first disciple in the eyes of the Luoyue disciples, who remained calm in the face of danger and saved the sect from collapsing. After falling, he spent a thousand years in a daze. He hadn’t seen such youthful vigor for a long time.
He laughed and said, “Your lower body is not steady. When you practice your sword daily, you shouldn’t just practice sword techniques; you should also practice footwork more.”
After saying that, he walked out of the door.
The spirit boat was moored ahead. He didn’t want to delay and was the first to step onto the boat.
Yun Zhou scratched his head at the door: “What you said seems to make sense…” He paused, “Wait, how can you tell that I don’t practice footwork much?”
An Wuxue didn’t look back: “I guessed.”
Yun Zhou wanted to say something else, but Yun Yao pulled him and followed An Wuxue onto the spirit boat.
When the two of them urged the spirit boat with spiritual power together, Yun Zhou glanced at An Wuxue: “Eh? Why are you wearing a bamboo hat? You’ve stayed in your room every day for the past two months without stepping out. Now that you’ve finally gone out, why are you still covering your face?”
He didn’t intend to return after leaving the mountain gate, so wearing a bamboo hat was naturally to avoid attracting attention.
He couldn’t tell the truth, so he made up an excuse: “The sun is strong, I’m afraid of getting tanned.”
“How is that possible? This is not the mortal world. How can a cultivator be afraid of the sun?”
“There is one: me.”
“…”
Yun Zhou’s face turned red, and he was about to fight back, but Yun Yao stopped him and said, “Junior brother Yun Zhou, Luoyue Peak is the largest sect in the cultivation world, with strict rules. We borrowed the spirit boat, and it must be returned on time. Let’s not waste time.”
The two of them urged the incantation together, taking An Wuxue towards the Luoyue Peak mountain gate.
An Wuxue sat in the spirit boat, calculating the time, only hoping that no complications would arise.
Just as he thought the spirit boat should be flying out of the Luoyue mountain gate soon, the boat suddenly stopped and slowly landed.
What happened?
Weren’t they about to leave?
He frowned, hurriedly lifted the curtain, and got off the spirit boat.
Yun Zhou was surprised: “Why are there so many people?”
Yun Yao turned his head and was about to say something to him when a disciple wearing the Luoyue disciple uniform glided through the air to them and said, “The mountain gate is currently closed. Martial Uncle Xuan Fang is handling business.”
Xuan Fang…?
An Wuxue looked forward and saw a crowd of cultivators in very similar styles of clothing blocking the mountain gate.
In front of those cultivators, several young Luoyue disciples surrounded a man.
An Wuxue was stunned—he recognized that person.
Back then, after his and Xie Zhefeng’s master, Immortal Nan He, perished, Luoyue Peak lost more than half of its experts. Being located in a blessed land with many spiritual treasures, many large sects from both worlds were covetous.
He stood here with his sword, blocking countless cultivators. The long sword in his hand was soaked in blood, and before him were the corpses of the cultivators he had killed. He had shattered the souls of the cultivators with ten thousand sword lights, leaving only remnants of their souls nailed to the mountain gate, howling incessantly, as a warning to others.
Those people said he was too hostile and would surely suffer backlash and die a horrible death.
He didn’t care.
The invading cultivators retreated in panic, and the young disciples of Luoyue Peak orderly came forward to clean up the mess.
The cultivator whose soul he had shattered died a miserable death, and his corpse lay at his feet. The young disciples didn’t dare to step forward, except for one who walked up to him with a determined expression and cleaned up the corpse.
As he was about to turn and leave, the young disciple summoned up the courage to call out to him: “First Senior Brother!”
He turned back, crouched down slightly to meet the young disciple’s eyes, and said gently, “What’s the matter? Are you afraid because you haven’t seen blood before?”
The young disciple in the Fasting stage said to him, “First Senior Brother, don’t listen to those people’s nonsense. I… I heard when I joined the mountain gate that Senior Brother has a heavenly golden body, exquisite jade bones, crossed the tribulation in a hundred years, sealed countless demons, and has outstanding military achievements. In the future, you will surely sit high on the clouds. How could you die a horrible death?”
An Wuxue wiped the dirty blood from the young disciple’s hand with a handkerchief, then stood up and asked him, “What is your name?”
The young disciple looked up with longing and said impatiently, “Xuan Fang! I hope First Senior Brother can remember me!”
An Wuxue remembered it.
Later, when the cultivators of the two worlds surrounded and killed him, there were cultivators of all cultivation levels. He seemed to have seen Xuan Fang in the crowd.
A thousand years is like rushing water. He, the First Senior Brother, has no bones left, and the young disciple of the Fasting stage from back then is now worthy of being called “Martial Uncle.”
An Wuxue gave a low laugh.
At that time, those people cursed him to die a horrible death, but he didn’t take it seriously. He only felt that as long as the three things he cherished most—friends and relatives, the sect, and his junior brother—were there, being torn into ten thousand pieces was but a momentary blink of an eye.
But looking at it now, that “die a horrible death” was indeed a prophetic curse.
At this time, he heard Xuan Fang say to the group of cultivators, “The Immortal Venerable will return immediately. Everyone, please wait a moment.”
What?
An Wuxue suddenly snapped back to his senses—Xie Zhefeng is coming back?
An Wuxue hoped that the group of cultivators would move out of the way first, but the leader of the group led his disciples to block the way, saying anxiously, “We have been waiting outside Luoyue Peak for several days and really can’t wait any longer. Peak Master Xuan, there are demonic artifacts hidden in our sect. It’s better to send a Tribulation Stage expert to help immediately…”
Xuan Fang said calmly, “This matter needs the Immortal Venerable to decide personally. The sect rules are as such.”
The leader had nothing to say, but among the cultivators, someone was indignant and whispered, “Luoyue Peak isn’t exactly a place that strictly follows rules either. A thousand years ago, didn’t a First Senior Brother who killed the innocent come out—”
“Silence!” the leader scolded.
The successive First Senior Brothers of Luoyue Peak were all famous, and the only one who ended up with a bad reputation was An Wuxue.
Xuan Fang had been listening to the man’s words indifferently, unmoved even when the other party slandered Luoyue Peak.
But when the man mentioned the words “First Senior Brother,” he suddenly turned his head, stared at the man for a while, his eyes deep: “Why silence him? If you have something to say, finish it.”
The man immediately shivered.
The people of Luoyue Peak all disliked others mentioning these things, but they couldn’t stop the world’s gossip. They would always talk about it in private.
In his haste just now, the man forgot the taboo, and only now did he feel afraid.
An Wuxue was slightly surprised—why did Xuan Fang suddenly have such a big temper?
In the dead silence, Xuan Fang suddenly rose with his sword, sword energy surging, sweeping towards the cultivator who had just spoken, slamming the person onto the mountain wall behind!
The man spit out a mouthful of blood as soon as he hit the ground.
The faces of the others turned pale.
Xuan Fang sneered, “If you can’t finish, then don’t speak at all.”
The speaker fell to the ground and couldn’t get up. His fellow disciples hurried forward to help him up, and the group was in chaos.
These people won’t be able to leave for a while.
But An Wuxue couldn’t afford to delay.
“Eh! Su Xue, what are you doing walking over there?”
He replied to Yun Zhou, “I’m going to ask Peak Master Xuan if he can let us through first.”
He had just walked forward for a bit when he suddenly stopped abruptly.
At the same time.
Among the chaotic cultivators, behind Xuan Fang, a gray-clothed cultivator suddenly changed his appearance, his eyes turned red, and black gas surged around him.
The gray-clothed cultivator quickly drew his spirit sword and went towards Xuan Fang, attacking extremely ruthlessly!
The Luoyue disciples said in alarm: “It’s a demonic cultivator! Martial Uncle Xuan Fang, be careful!”
—There was actually a demonic cultivator hidden among these people!!
Xuan Fang didn’t move.
In his haste, An Wuxue still thought his cultivation had not decreased.
He instantly and inconspicuously formed a hand seal for sealing demons and expelling impurities.
As the hand seal was ready to be released, the flow of spiritual energy around him was blocked by his obscure meridians.
He froze.
He forgot again.
“An Wuxue” had fallen a thousand years ago.
He was no longer the First Senior Brother of Luoyue Peak.
In an instant.
The weak hand seal that had just appeared in his hand was immediately dispersed by the surging spiritual energy.
Frost fell from the low sky, and snowflakes kissed everyone’s shoulders and hair.
Under the scorching sun, a biting cold wind blew from nowhere.
Thin silver frost came from all directions, covering everything.
The crane stone carvings on both sides of the mountain gate were instantly covered with a layer of ice.
This icy spiritual energy…
An Wuxue’s heart jumped. He hurried to withdraw his hand and turn back, walking quickly onto the high steps behind the mountain gate.
He couldn’t think of anything and just wanted to stay away.
In the distant sky, a sword light like a sharpened wind and snow pierced through the air.
It was faster than the gray-clothed cultivator. Before the sword tip could pierce Xuan Fang’s chest, it sank into the gray-clothed cultivator’s heart.
The gray-clothed cultivator’s body stiffened and instantly lost all signs of life.
The crisis was eliminated invisibly.
The rolling turbid gas was annihilated in the icy sword energy.
The gray-clothed cultivator fell with his eyes wide open, dying with grievances.
An Wuxue only cared about walking back.
But a figure fell along with the sword light, just in time to land on the high platform long steps in front of him that were hidden in the mountains.
The other person looked down at him.
Like a nightmare he had seen many times during the floating and sinking of his soul.
At that moment, the figure overlapped with his memory. He felt as if he were in this place a thousand years ago, and that “what you deserve” rumbled like hidden thunder, echoing and overlapping.
The several Luoyue disciples who were about to draw their swords all paused, sheathed their swords, turned back, and bowed their heads respectfully: “Immortal Venerable.”