Chapter 60

In that swirling darkness, Mu Xue realized she was pressed against a broad, solid chest.
She could smell a familiar, clean scent on him, a calming note beneath the chaos. She felt the warmth of his skin through thin fabric; she could hear his heartbeat, clear and steady in the storm.
Qianji’s Armor spread out behind her, morphing into black scales, wrapping her tightly between unbreakable armor and Cen Qianshan’s chest.
Danger was second nature to Mu Xue. She’d always used her own flesh and blood to carve out a path, wearing fresh wounds for each narrow escape. That’s how she’d survived since childhood.
She never thought there could be someone, anyone, she could lean on, even for a moment.
When had that scrawny boy she once cradled in her arms grown into someone who could pull her into his own embrace, ready to weather storms for her sake?
They fell, quickly, down into a bizarre alternate dimension.
There, no stone or earth existed. Instead, boundless skies stretched in every direction, nebulae drifting, strange stars of all sizes floating between galaxies.
This weird space howled with hurricane winds. Tears in reality itself gaped wide like monstrous jaws, snapping open here and there and everywhere at once.
Mu Xue felt a warm, wet trickle sliding down her cheek.
Blood, it was Cen Qianshan’s blood. Still hot.
“Let me go. You’re hurt, I need to fight,” Mu Xue pushed at his chest.
He said nothing, only held her tighter with one arm, locking her firmly against him, while his other hand drew a blade that flashed like ice.
His frosted saber carved the wild, chaotic wind apart. Shimmering fragments of space flickered around Cen Qianshan, revealing glimpses of snarling demon gods; he called them one by one to shield them as they dodged between the terror of those black cracks.
Even so, his muscles stained steadily darker red, Qianji’s Armor fracturing a little more each time they slammed through a rift, its shards scattered across the endless swirling space until it was so thin it couldn’t always shield them from the worst attacks.
“To reach the Asura Realm at Golden Core stage, impressive. So many interesting little humans in one day... Now this, this is entertaining,
High above the sprawling sky littered with stars, atop a spherical planet, there stood a colossal statue of the God of Pleasure. Golden rings circled its arms, milky eyes gazed coldly downward, radiating an ancient divinity’s oppressive power across the heavens.
“The only one I want is the person in your arms.” A voice, rich and magnetic, floated down from the sky. “You’ve cultivated so far, let her go, and I’ll allow you to leave in peace.”
Cen Qianshan let out a cold laugh, entirely ignoring the celestial’s words and Mu Xue’s protests in his arms. His blade gleamed with chilling light as he threw himself into a bloody, lone battle.
“And you, just a grain of starlight, dare challenge me? You’ll regret this.” The voice above grew distant, the spectral godly apparition fading into the night-veiled sky.
Cen Qianshan wiped the blood from his face, grin wild, laughter raw,
A hundred years ago, I watched you so-called gods hurl heavenly lightning and reduce what I treasured most to dust… while I could do nothing but watch, powerless.
Now, all I wish is to hold her like this; to shield her, even if it costs me my life. This, at last, fulfills the longing I’ve carried for so long.
“Let me go, Cen Qianshan! Let me go!” Mu Xue shouted, fighting to free herself.
The fight was savage, desperate, her primordial spirit could see every blow. The iron shell of Qianji was being battered away piece by piece, shrinking its defenses until it could barely keep Cen Qianshan shielded. Warm blood that gushed from his chest had begun to soak her hair.
“Let me go! With your Golden Core abilities, you actually stand a chance to escape if you’re alone.” Mu Xue’s voice shook with urgency. “I’ll be fine, trust me, Cen Qianshan, I promise I’ll come back to find you. I swear! Do you hear me? Just let me go!”
How she longed, in that instant, to tell him: I am the Master you’ve yearned for all these years.
He didn’t have to fight like this. She was just at the Foundation Establishment stage; even if she died in this storm, she could reincarnate, there was still hope to meet again.
But if she said it aloud, the oath that binds would break, and the Infinite Rebirth Cycle Secret Art would lose its power.
Cen Qianshan said nothing, shoulders set, he shielded her with ferocious resolve. Blade dripping, standing defiant in a field of blood and gods.
Who knows how long they fought like this, before finally tumbling out of that strange dimension, crashing heavily onto solid ground.
Qianji dropped away from Mu Xue, collapsing into a battered, broken puppet, its mouth opening and closing in silence, unable to utter a sound.
Eyes rimmed red, Mu Xue gazed first at Qianji, then at the man bleeding before her, his trembling blood-streaked fingers gently tracing her cheek, eyes roaming over her, relief brightening up his battered face. “Good… good… you’re alright. This time… you’re really… alright…”
He never finished, the last of his power spent, he slumped across her bloody shoulder.
Mu Xue caught him, turning her face away, swiping at tears, unable to bear the sight of his ravaged back.
She let Cen Qianshan rest in her lap, tending his wounds, bandaging every cut.
Even in unconsciousness, his brow was tightly furrowed. Mu Xue watched him for a long moment, then slowly reached out, smoothing his brow, fingers brushing through his soft hair.
Did he already guess? Was he holding back his questions?
She thought of how, just now, he had practically confessed, reckless and burning. How, caught in the abyss, he refused to let her go for even a second.
A lump formed in Mu Xue’s chest, part sweet, part bitter. Unable to help herself, she bent down and pressed her lips to his hair, holding him in a silent embrace.
What she didn’t know was that at that very instant, Cen Qianshan’s hand, lying limp at his side, curled into a tight fist, nails digging into his palm.
The place they found themselves in seemed to be a long tunnel, twisting and hidden, its end unknown. The darkness was absolute, thick with damp, the only sound the constant drip, drip, drip of water echoing in the black.
Mu Xue rummaged in her storage pouch and produced a glazed lantern, bathing them in a ring of soft golden light. The walls, now visible, were set every few paces with elegant stone statues, mortals, beasts, demon gods. Some wore ferocious expressions, others radiated peace; in the flicker of the lantern, they seemed almost alive, steeped in ancient mystery.
Mu Xue stood, about to head forward, when Cen Qianshan’s hand shot out and seized hers.
“Don’t go.” His voice, raw and newly awake, was rough and hoarse. The dim light traced the sharp lines of his face, pale skin, lips utterly drained of color.
“You’re awake?” Mu Xue bent low, smiling gently. “Don’t worry, I just want to look ahead. I’m not leaving you behind.”
“You will.” His eyes, clouded and shining with the reflection of the lamp, filled with wounded accusation. “All of you do. Sooner or later, everyone just… tosses me aside.”
Maybe it’s true, wounded men are especially sensitive. Mu Xue sighed, summoned the Reflecting Sky Cloud, and let Cen Qianshan lie across it, floating beside her, side by side as they walked forward together.
The lantern’s light bobbed, leaping across the faces of the statues; for a moment, they all felt frighteningly alive. The drip-drip of water and their footfalls echoed in the stone chamber, their only company.
“When I was five, my parents sold me off, for a couple of low-grade spirit stones,”
Lying on the cloud, Cen Qianshan spoke toward the darkened ceiling. Only his thin, wavering voice carried down the endless, empty corridor.
“Not long after, the scumbag who bought me died. My adoptive mother sold me again, this time into a filthy slave market, where I got beat every day, handled and rejected by ‘customers.’ To them, I was a toy, merchandise, barely human. If I was lucky, I might be sold as a rich kid’s pet. If not, it was off to the endless mines, to die working in the dark.”
“So those first years under my Master, I tiptoed around her, desperate to please, terrified any time she took me out that she’d just abandon me somewhere.”
Mu Xue looked at the Cen “little mountain” lying on her cloud. Suddenly, she recalled a memory from that time.
Now, Cen Qianshan lying on the cloud seemed so tall, so broad-shouldered, long-legged, his waist lean and strong. Back then, he’d been nothing but a skinny little boy, someone it almost hurt to look at.
One day, when she took him out shopping for supplies, as they neared the mouth of the goods market, that boy’s face suddenly turned even paler than it was now.
He grabbed onto the wall and refused to take another step.
“What’s wrong? Hurry up.” Mu Xue, not understanding at all, turned around and urged him on.
The scrawny teen bit his lips, eyes going red. “Did I… Did I do something wrong?”
“What are you talking about? I’m going to be late. If you really won’t come in, then just wait for me right here.” Mu Xue had no idea why he was suddenly so upset. All she could do was sigh, leave him behind, and head alone into the market where everything was traded, including people.
When she finally emerged from the endless auction, her little disciple was still crouched by the wall where she'd left him, motionless. As soon as he saw her, he dashed to her side, snow dusted on his hair and shoulders, shivering as he reached out his hand.
Mu Xue took his small, icy-cold hand, clammy with nervous sweat, trembling nonstop.
“What’s wrong? Are you cold, Xiao Shan? Let’s go home, okay?”
“Home… You’ll take me home?”
“Of course. I bought a whole bunch of stuff, and I even got you some treats. Tonight we’ll make beef bone soup.”
“Master…” The little boy looked up at her.
“What is it?”
“Master would never abandon me, right?”
“Of course not. My clever Xiao Shan, how could I ever leave you behind?”
…
So that’s what he’d been terrified of, back then. Mu Xue berated herself, how could she be so careless? Bringing a child she’d just rescued to the very slave market where he’d been sold, and not noticing his feelings at all.
“Master was the only one in this world who was good to me. I thought, I truly believed, she’d never leave me again,” Cen Qianshan whispered, eyes closed. “But in the end… she still left me all alone.”
Mu Xue reached out and wrapped her hand around his now strong, slender fingers, holding tight, giving a gentle squeeze. “You’re hurt. Sleep, really sleep, for a while. Don’t worry. I’m not letting go this time.”
Holding on to her little cloud, and the man lying atop that cloud, she walked on, step by careful step.
And so, he drifted off, sleeping in a dream as soft as clouds themselves, eyes softly closing at last, sinking into deep and peaceful rest.