Chapter 23

As Su Xingtin passed by, he spotted his little disciple hunched over the table, tinkering intently with a collection of complicated parts.
It was a tin man, half assembled. All sorts of intricate pieces were laid out in neat rows, and his little disciple was expertly guiding them with her short, nimble fingers. A sheen of sweat sparkled on her forehead, and her large, dark eyes were alive with focus, like a child completely absorbed by her favorite toy, so focused, in fact, she didn’t even notice his arrival.
Su Xingtin leaned down and asked, “Is this a puppet construct you’re making?”
“Not a puppet, no way, I wouldn’t know how just yet! This is just the simplest tin man.” Mu Xue looked up and caught sight of her Master, then quickly bent back over her work, weaving the parts together with a flick of spiritual energy as she explained,
“Today, Uncle Ding called me over. I took a class with Sister Lanlan and the others and learned how to make this. I wanted to try it out as soon as I got back.”
Su Xingtin sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, quietly watching his disciple’s handiwork for a while.
“Xiao Xue, you’re really gifted when it comes to artifact refinement. I’ve already spoken to Uncle Ding, she wants you to drop by Biyou Peak for her artifact lessons whenever you have time.”
Mu Xue’s face didn’t change, but her small fingers faltered just a touch,
“Am I allowed to? I mean… it’s not like I really love artifact refining that much.”
“Kiddo, are you worried I’ll be upset?” Su Xingtin laughed without a hint of jealousy, handing over a thin slip of snowy-white paper. “This is the lecture schedule for all the peak masters’ open classes. If any subject excites you, just go, no need to hold back. Whether it’s artifact refinement at Biyou Peak, alchemy at Xuandan Peak, body tempering at Tiezhu Peak, beast taming at Youyuan, planting at Lingshu Peak, or spirit channeling at Piaomiao Peak, you’re free to learn whatever you like. I’ll teach you the Dao, your uncles and aunts will teach you techniques. All paths lead back to the source, only then can our sect’s name truly flourish.”
Mu Xue gave a little exclamation, accidentally twisting the fine platinum wire in her hand out of shape.
Everything in this world really was… different. So warm, she, who’d come from endless winter and ice, almost couldn’t relax into it. Part of her wanted desperately to sever her past, to earn the right to belong here, to claim a brand new ending for herself.
Yet, the more she settled in, the more she realized... all those past chapters were already stitched into her very being. Cut them away, and Mu Xue might not be Mu Xue anymore.
Su Xingtin used a light thread of spiritual energy to straighten out the nearly hair-thin platinum, floating it back to Mu Xue’s hand,
“Xiao Xue, you’re mad talented, no matter what you do. You already picked up my heart technique so quickly, and you’re manipulating items like a pro.”
Mu Xue felt a little embarrassed. This wasn’t talent at all, it was just thanks to having an extra lifetime under her belt.
She didn’t dare tell Su Xingtin she'd already condensed her primordial spirit, not only could she control objects nearby, she could stir the peach trees clear across the courtyard if she wanted. Now her soul was so steady, even if someone tried to rip it out, unless she let them, there’d be no more helpless out-of-body experiences like last time.
Master and disciple sat quietly in the courtyard, leaves fluttering down around them.
In the distance, a tiger’s roar echoed. A cold wind tore through the fallen leaves. From the sky, a white tiger plummeted and landed squarely in the center of the courtyard.
Fu Yun slid down from the tiger’s back, saluted in haste, and blurted, “Master, something’s happened to Hangzhou!”
He was holding a soul lamp in both hands, his face grim as he brought it before Su Xingtin.
Su Xingtin sprang to his feet at once, frowning at the soul lamp. The glass shade, once bright, now sheltered a flame weak and wavering, on the verge of flickering out.
This was Ye Hangzhou’s soul lamp.
Su Xingtin pressed his fingers together in a sword seal; from his sleeve shot a slender green dagger, which hummed in a clear, sharp tone as it caught the wind.
In that instant, the gentle, scholarly man’s entire presence shifted, something steely and fierce, like a sword drawn from its scabbard. He stepped onto the blade, man and sword fusing into a single streak that cut through the air with breakneck speed.
“Fu Yun, come with me.” His voice echoed from above.
The white tiger let out another roar and launched into the sky, chasing after him.
Only a few drifting leaves remained in the courtyard now, and Mu Xue, alone.
The mountain was utterly still, no bird, no insect to be heard. Mu Xue had never found Xiaoyao Peak so vast and so quiet.
She settled herself on the veranda, keeping watch over the soul lamp, its flame growing weaker by the moment, any instant liable to die out completely.
Dusk gradually descended; the clouds deepened into violet, and the first stars crept into view. That faint blue glow stubbornly battled the shadows at the edge of the eaves.
The thought surfaced, vivid and sharp: Senior Ye might not survive this.
Mu Xue was no stranger to death. On the contrary, her life had been surrounded by it: the disappearance of friends, the deaths of enemies, even her own brushes past the veil. She’d grown accustomed to farewells like these long ago, back in childhood.
The world has its own cycles, its fates and consequences. No one escapes what’s written for them.
But this time, it was different, a boulder seemed to press against her chest, heavy and immovable, making every breath a struggle. She couldn’t swallow it, couldn’t cough it out; her heart felt tight and stifled, and it hurt.
Miao Hong’er returned from a hunt and saw Mu Xue sitting there by herself, dazed.
After hearing what had happened, she began to pace and stamped her foot in frustration.
“That idiot of a junior brother, and why didn’t Master message me? He just took senior Fu and went flying off with his sword? That’s insane! The sect specifically forbids Golden Core disciples from entering the god temple ruins.”
Ancient god ruins suppressed both demonic and righteous cultivators. Even at Golden Core, once inside, one’s powers would be sealed, no better than a novice. Maybe, just maybe, an experienced cultivator would’ve fared a bit better than a rookie, but no sect would risk their people like that.
It would be like sending your best general, born for strategy, to lead a reckless charge, or having the Emperor himself cross enemy lines to negotiate. Not happening.
But arguing now was pointless. The Master had already been gone most of the day. Even the sect leader had stormed through, twice, huffing and puffing with worry.
Mu Xue and Miao Hong’er sat together in silence for a long time. Restless, Miao Hong’er stomped off to the kitchen and came back clutching an enormous basin of fried rice. She scooped some into a bowl for Mu Xue and kept the rest for herself, scarfing it down like she’d never tasted food before.
The long night dragged on. Finally, at the first glimmer of dawn, a streak of blue sword-light cut across the sky and landed in the courtyard.
Su Xingtin dismounted from his sword, cradling someone in his arms, a person torn and bloodied almost beyond recognition.
Without a word, he strode quickly inside and laid Ye Hangzhou’s battered body carefully on the bed.
Ye Hangzhou’s face was waxen, his eyes tightly shut. He was missing one leg and one arm, ugly black smoke curling from the stumps, clear signs of deadly venom.
Kong Ji, master of Xuandan Peak, hurried in almost immediately.
“How did it come to this! It must’ve been a demonic cultivator,” he said after inspecting the wounds, furious. “How many times have I told these disciples, never get involved with demonic cultivators! But no, someone just has to test their luck.”
“It wasn’t a demonic cultivator,” Su Xingtin said quietly.
“Not a demonic cultivator? Then who?” Kong Ji was stunned.
Su Xingtin’s gaze fell, silent. He pressed a hand to Hangzhou’s chest, sending in his own energy to protect the boy’s heartbeat. “I leave the rest to you, Senior Brother.”
“Rest? How can I possibly save him? The limbs I could mend, but look at the black mist at the wounds, the red lines splitting his skin. That’s ‘Red Waist’ venom, from an ancient poisonous bug! That thing’s been extinct since the old days, there’s no cure for it in our world.”
Su Xingtin’s brows knit tight. “There must be some hope left.”
Kong Ji sighed. “Rumor has it the depths of the Dongyue Shrine hide a Deathless Pool. Around its banks grows the Purpleheart Herb, said to neutralize Red Waist venom. Let the sect leader order everyone heading into the shrine to scour the place for that herb. Whether we find it or not, well, it all depends on this kid’s luck.”
He added, “But don’t lose hope. I have a spell that wards off poison, it’ll keep death at bay for now, but the boy’s in for a painful time.”
Agonized, throaty moans sounded from within the room.
Outside, Fu Yun leaned against a column, arms crossed, looking pale and silent.
Miao Hong’er slumped on the veranda, arms on her knees, jaw tight, she said nothing.
Fu Yun spoke up, out of nowhere, “You’ll go, won’t you? To the shrine.”
“Like hell I will,” Miao Hong’er snapped, gritting her teeth. “There’s nothing good to eat in that hellhole. Why would I risk my neck in the middle of nowhere?”
Inside the courtyard, a tiny figure was busy as a bee. She gathered up all the scattered things from the veranda, then grabbed a mop and scrubbed away every trace of blood from the floor. Next, she fetched a broom and swept up the bloodstained leaves from the yard.
The sight grated on Fu Yun, making him blurt out, “Kid looks unfazed, not even a little sad. After all Hangzhou did for her? Unbelievable.”
“Why are you picking on Xiao Xue?” Miao Hong’er bristled. “What, you want her to sob her eyes out? Are you going to be the one to comfort her then?”
Dawn broke, bright and clear.
Ye Hangzhou slowly opened his eyes and realized he’d come back to the one place he always felt safe.
His wounds had been tended, but the pain was still brutal. His missing arm hurt, his missing leg hurt. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t throb with agony.
A small head rested on the bed’s edge. When it saw he was awake, it straightened up, Xiao Xue’s young, gentle voice rising with a question,
“Does it hurt a lot, senior brother?”
The little girl gazed at him with those jet-black, lacquer-bright eyes, just as she had when he’d first brought her up the mountain.
That day, following the sect’s orders, he’d traveled through countless towns, picking up one shivering new disciple after another. Every single child had wept bitterly, clinging to their families in heartbreak.
Except for this junior sister, she simply stood there, quiet and composed, watching everything with her clear, glassy gaze, as if the hubbub and emotion of mortal life had nothing to do with her.
It reminded him of himself, years ago.
Ye Hangzhou was an orphan, scraping by on begging and scavenging just long enough to see another Lantern Festival.
The city bustled that day: everywhere you looked, doting parents brought their hopeful children to the city square, wishing them immortal destiny. He wove through the crowds, and, lucky day, found half a discarded candied hawthorn skewer. Sure, he got kicked more than once for being dirty and ragged, but that had never bothered him.
The crowd grew even livelier, talking about some ‘immortal chance.’
Nothing to do with a street rat like him. Ye Hangzhou found a quiet corner, ready to savor his prize.
Then a Xiumu Butterfly appeared from nowhere, fluttering down to land on his sugar-sticky fingers. Before he understood what was happening, everyone around him gasped. Suddenly, nobody cared how filthy or shabby he was. Strangers swept him up like a celebrity, carrying him to the city wall.
Staring at the gate that led to the heavens, Ye Hangzhou felt utterly lost. All the other kids were sobbing, they couldn’t bear to leave their families. But Ye Hangzhou had no tears to shed. In this vast, crowded world, not one soul belonged to him. No one would miss him. He’d never felt lonelier than he did in that moment.
So, when he saw this girl with that exact same look, the loneliness he remembered, Ye Hangzhou couldn’t help but want to look after her. He begged the master to let her join him on Xiaoyao Peak, and she became his junior sister.
With his uninjured hand, Ye Hangzhou weakly reached over and patted those tiny puffs of hair.
His voice, barely a whisper, came out rough: “It’s... nothing. Doesn’t hurt much.”
“Who did this to you, senior brother? Was it a demonic cultivator?”
“I guarded myself against them... but not against my own.” Ye Hangzhou gave a bitter smile and closed his eyes. “It was a disciple of the Tianyan Sect, Lu Yihong. Ridiculous, really, all over one stalk of immortal grass.”
Tianyan Sect, one of Guiyuan Sect’s closest allies. Their disciples were always mingling; the friendship between the sects ran deep. And those closest to you are always the ones who can wound you most.
Halfway up Qingjing Peak where the sect leader resided, a massive stone terrace jutted out from the mountainside.
Today, disciples from all over the sect had gathered there.
Packs shouldered, friends in tow, they made their way onto the platform.
A flying vessel hovered atop the terrace, slowly lifting into the sky.
Recently, nothing had caused more of a stir in Guiyuan Sect than assembling teams to explore the Dongyue Temple.
Quite a few disciples were boarding the giant sect flying artifact, headed toward that ancient, mysterious ruin of the gods.
The huge skyship sailed through billowing streaks of cloud.
On the deck, a handful of younger female disciples whispered excitedly,
“Is that Senior Brother Fu Yun? He’s coming too? So lucky, we get to travel with him!”
“Is he mad about something? Who’s that little kid with him? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Fu Yun lose his temper before.”
“So even the unflappable, moonlit Lord of the Clouds has a bad day, huh? Hehe.”
Fu Yun was too furious to care about appearances. Pointing straight at Miao Hong’er, he snapped,
“If you want to go on your own, fine! But why drag such a little junior sister along? If something happens, what am I supposed to tell the master?”
Miao Hong’er just spread her hands, resigned. “Why are you yelling at me? I only just noticed her, too! I was literally about to drag her home by the pigtails.”
“You can’t make me go back!” protested the little dumpling, tilting her pale-cheeked face up. “The sect announcement said any disciple below Golden Core could volunteer for the expedition. I might be young, but I’m still a sect member.”
Miao Hong’er laughed, snaking her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Not bad! That’s the fearless spirit of Xiaoyao Peak.”