Chapter 8#
Xie Zefeng seemed not to have heard Qi Xun’s words.
The snow lotus sword pattern between the man’s brows flickered indistinctly amidst the black mist, sometimes pale white like snow, sometimes like deep ink spreading into the sea, blurring into a dark black.
He did not deny it.
Qi Xun frowned deeply: “There’s something very strange about the turbid energy. The departed souls who infiltrated Luoyue Peak haven’t been identified yet, and there’s also…”
He paused, “And Wuxue’s remnant soul… at such a critical moment… does the Immortal Venerable know what the consequences would be if the matter of the inner demon were to be exposed?”
Xie Zefeng closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the black-tinged sword pattern on his brow no longer appeared, but his voice remained deep: “I will not leave Frost Sea. If necessary, I will arrange for a clone to walk outside.”
Qi Xun wanted to mock him, but the words caught in his throat, and he swallowed them in the end.
If Xie Zefeng couldn’t suppress his inner demon, let alone investigating An Wuxue’s past, even the two realms would not be peaceful.
It was better not to add fuel to the fire.
He completely lost his previous playful or casual expression, and said distractedly: “Take care of yourself. I’m going to Jingji Stream to take a look…”
He turned around and did not linger in Buried Frost Sea for a moment, rushing straight to Jingji Stream in a daze.
Xie Zefeng stood still.
Another surge of spiritual power swept through, and the pine forest, which had been ravaged by the icy spiritual power, instantly returned to its original state.
The man’s face was expressionless, and at first glance, there was nothing unusual.
As if nothing had happened.
In the pine forest, a white figure darted out with a “whoosh” and rushed straight towards Xie Zefeng.
Xie Zefeng’s expression flickered slightly. Seeing that the newcomer was Kunkun, he reached out and scooped Kunkun into his arms.
Miasma beasts are naturally skilled in divine souls, and Kunkun had been raised under the Soul-Nurturing Tree for hundreds of years, making it even more uniquely gifted in nourishing divine souls.
It smelled the resurgence of the inner demon in Xie Zefeng’s sea of consciousness and rushed over.
The miasma beast’s spiritual power slowly covered Xie Zefeng’s divine soul. Xie Zefeng gently stroked its fur, his brows furrowing.
Kunkun had the scent of another person on it.
“You again went to find him?”
“Wuwu…”
Kunkun whimpered guiltily.
Xie Zefeng patted its head.
“No need to feel guilty. You think he’s like him… why wouldn’t I?”
Kunkun felt even more guilty: “Wuwu…”
It whimpered twice, then, afraid that Xie Zefeng would discover something, quickly lowered its head and stopped whimpering.
Xie Zefeng had just emerged from a night of inner demon disturbance, and was not as perceptive as usual.
He just held Kunkun, and his divine sense spread out—
He hadn’t done this in a long time.
No living beings resided on Buried Frost Sea. Disciples were stationed in all directions, and for a thousand years, with a light sweep of divine sense, there would only be Kunkun on the entire floating island.
But now…
Xie Zefeng glanced at An Wuxue’s direction.
He knew that person resembled his senior brother. Senior brother couldn’t possibly be a furnace cauldron less than twenty years old.
But he wanted to take another look.
But… was it really not him? He had clearly confirmed it wasn’t him last time, but now he couldn’t help but wonder—was there even a one-in-ten-thousand chance…?
The next moment, he disappeared from the spot with Kunkun in his arms.
An Wuxue was not sleeping.
Saying he was sleeping was just to tease Yunzhou.
He used to be sleepy because his divine soul was weary, and nightmares from his previous life haunted him. Waking up was Luoyue Peak, and entering dreams was those ups and downs, no different from never resting day and night.
But last night, with Kunkun’s help, it was the best night’s sleep he had had in a long time.
He decided to take advantage of his refreshed state today to see how Xue Su’s body should cultivate.
As soon as he concentrated, he heard movement outside the room.
Yunzhou and Yunyao seemed to have been talking in the courtyard.
Yunzhou chattered incessantly, sometimes talking about how strict their master was, sometimes saying An Wuxue was delicate. His words flowed like the Milky Way in the ancient starry path, endless and boundless.
Yunyao was as silent as ever, sometimes giving a “hmm” or two, sometimes not making a sound at all.
An Wuxue found it strange.
Was this how ordinary fellow disciples in this world interacted?
It was truly enviable.
Yunyao also had a good temper; he didn’t even practice his sword, just accompanied Yunzhou’s chatter.
He listened for a while, then smiled, shook his head, cast aside his thoughts, ignored the noise, and sat cross-legged on the bed.
The meager spiritual power in this body slowly circulated through his meridians, exceptionally sluggish.
Xue Su had never cultivated; all his cultivation was accumulated by consuming spiritual medicines. In a small sect like Cloud Sword Sect, spiritual medicines were impure and contained many impurities. Xue Su consumed too many, and they naturally accumulated in his meridians, hindering the growth of spiritual power.
It didn’t seem like a hopeless waste.
He just needed to drain these mottled spiritual powers, and the impurities in the meridians would naturally be expelled. After that, he could cultivate again.
Cultivators enter the Dao by abstaining from grains. After finding their own path, they can enter the minor accomplishment stage. After that is the major accomplishment stage of forging their natal magical artifact, and finally the tribulation transcendence stage, after which they can ascend to immortality once their Dao heart is clear.
Xue Su had just entered the grain-abstaining stage, so whether he had this spiritual power or not made no difference.
But this was not a good place right now.
He only knew the Luoyue Peak’s techniques. If he cultivated on Buried Frost Sea, the risk would be too great.
He still had to leave as soon as possible—
“Immortal Venerable!” Yunzhou’s voice suddenly amplified several times.
Yunyao said: “…Young Master Su said he was sleeping.”
An Wuxue was startled.
He was still meditating on the bed.
He quickly rolled out of bed, walked to the door, and pulled it open.
The man was wearing the cloud-patterned snow robe he had personally made for him, his expression gloomy, holding Kunkun, who almost blended with his clothes, in his arms.
Yunzhou and Yunyao, standing beside him, lowered their heads, too intimidated by Xie Zefeng’s imposing presence to breathe.
Kunkun: “Wuwu…”
Why did Xie Zefeng come with Kunkun?
This morning Kunkun had just secretly visited him…
Could it be that Xie Zefeng had already discovered something was amiss?
If he were exposed, Kunkun should have warned him.
At this moment, Xie Zefeng walked towards him.
His soul had drifted for a thousand years, and his nightmares were filled with Xie Zefeng’s back and the coldness of the Cold Sword Qi.
As the man’s aura approached, he suddenly tensed and retreated two steps.
The man’s footsteps paused, and his brows furrowed slightly: “You don’t want to see me.”
He vehemently denied: “No…”
Xie Zefeng slowly walked in.
The man gently waved his hand, and the door closed, isolating Yunzhou and Yunyao outside.
An Wuxue retreated slightly, wanting to distance himself from the man.
“But you shouldn’t want to see me,” Xie Zefeng’s voice seemed a little hoarse, “Last night, you almost perished.”
This was even harder to respond to.
He said: “Last night, I went to a place I shouldn’t have and touched something I shouldn’t have without permission. It’s only natural for the Immortal Venerable to be angry…”
Xie Zefeng stared at him.
He was speechless.
“No need to pretend to be obedient, you’re not that kind of person.”
He saw through him quite accurately.
But he felt that Xie Zefeng was acting strangely.
He couldn’t figure it out, but the man had already put down Kunkun, and spiritual power surged.
A chess table suddenly appeared in the bedroom.
“Play chess with me, you take the black pieces.”
Chess?
An Wuxue was stunned.
In the past, on Luoyue Peak, when their Dao hearts were unstable or they were confused during cultivation, they would always play chess to calm their minds.
Xie Zefeng always took the white pieces, so he, at that time, took the black pieces.
He actually didn’t like playing chess.
He had disliked quietness since childhood. The Floating Life Dao he cultivated required extensive knowledge of all beings and did not require a clear mind. Playing chess, which involved sitting for several hours, was more boring to him than meditating.
But Xie Zefeng liked it.
Xie Zefeng walked the path of ruthless Dao, which was pure and desireless. Sometimes, when distracting thoughts arose, he would need to calm his mind. If his opponent’s chess skills were too poor, it would not have the effect of dispelling distracting thoughts.
An Wuxue had therefore specifically studied chess.
Whenever he saw Xie Zefeng’s mind disturbed, he would proactively say, “Junior Brother, would you like to play a game with me?”
Xie Zefeng would then silently set up the chessboard.
Later, as Xie Zefeng approached ascension, and his ruthless Dao became complete, they never played chess again.
Now.
In this small room, Kunkun lay on one side, Xie Zefeng, wearing the robe he had personally refined, sat before him as he did in his memories of his previous life. A thousand years had left no trace on the man’s face. The hand that once held the sword hilt with him now picked up a snow-white chess piece.
It was like yesterday.
Was it a test?
He couldn’t be sure.
Xie Zefeng seemed to have been in a bad mood since last night. Perhaps he was just following old habits, finding someone to play chess with to calm his mind.
He said, “I’m not good at chess.”
Xie Zefeng should find someone more skilled.
He stood by the chess table, waiting for the other party to leave.
But Xie Zefeng just sat there waiting for him, looking at the empty chessboard, without saying a word.
“…”
He reluctantly sat down opposite Xie Zefeng.
With the Immortal Venerable present, Yunzhou dared not make a sound, and it was quiet outside.
Only the sound of him and Xie Zefeng placing chess pieces, one after another, remained.
He didn’t want to experience such a familiar feeling, nor did he want Xie Zefeng to discover any clues, so he played haphazardly, without any strategy.
It was finally about to end.
Xie Zefeng suddenly grabbed his wrist, which was about to place a piece.
An Wuxue instinctively struggled.
The man said in a deep voice, “If you place this piece, you will lose.”
Nonsensical.
He wanted to lose, so that this person would leave quickly.
He asked in confusion, “I already said that my chess skills are not good, so naturally—”
Xie Zefeng suddenly pulled him up by his wrist.
The chess table was put away by the man in an instant, and Kunkun also let out a “wuwu” in fright.
An immortal’s cultivation was unparalleled in the world. Even if Xie Zefeng did not use his spiritual power, the pressure moved with his mood, filling all directions.
An Wuxue had to avoid the other party’s gaze, turning his head to the side, his body tense.
Kunkun scurried a few steps to Xie Zefeng’s feet, trying to hold him back.
But Xie Zefeng just lowered his eyes and stared at him, his pupils growing deeper.
“Immortal Venerable!” His voice tightened.
After these two consecutive days, even a fool would know that Xie Zefeng was acting strangely.
What kind of madness was this man in?
He had to say urgently, “I just lost a game of chess. Is that worth the Immortal Venerable’s anger?”
“You are very afraid of me.” A definitive tone.
“Yes, I admit—the Immortal Venerable governs the two realms and four seas, and his sword light is unmatched. Who wouldn’t be afraid?”
These words were like a sudden storm pouring over a raging fire, extinguishing everything.
Before An Wuxue finished speaking, the man’s expression paused, and he instantly relaxed his grip.
Xie Zefeng seemed to be talking to himself: “He wasn’t afraid of me…”
Who?
Their master, Nanhe?
He knew Xie Zefeng was acting strangely—even to the point of losing his mind, completely unlike the unperturbed junior brother he remembered.
But he just wanted to be a useless person insignificant to the cultivation world. He didn’t know what was wrong with this man, and he didn’t want to know.
He struck while the iron was hot: “My chess skills are poor, please don’t make things difficult for me, Immortal Venerable.”
Xie Zefeng gave a self-deprecating smile.
This man always had a cold face, never cried, never laughed. After ascending to his revered position, he became even more majestic, rarely showing joy or anger.
Even in his previous life, he hadn’t seen Xie Zefeng smile much.
But now he smiled.
There was no hint of joy in his laughter.
What was so funny?
Xie Zefeng said in an increasingly soft voice, “Your chess skills are poor.”
“…But his chess skills are superb.”
As he spoke, he released his hand and took two steps back.
An Wuxue was bewildered.
Why was he telling him this?
He caught his breath, adjusted his breathing, and said calmly, “Since there’s someone who isn’t afraid of the Immortal Venerable and is skilled in chess, why doesn’t the Immortal Venerable go find him? I’m not him, why bother me, a useless mortal?”