Like a passage to the netherworld, a colossal vortex of absolute darkness hung inverted overhead—bottomless, fathomless—as though the demons of the Nine Abysses had thrown open their terrible maws to devour all things beneath heaven. Savage winds howled and keened, sweeping the last shreds of cloud from the sky. Thunder rolled in great peals, and tongues of lightning darted and danced.
Zhang Fan surged forward, the fire staff's dark azure radiance flickering brilliantly beneath the vast black clouds, drawing every eye. Xueqi watched the figure of Zhang Fan wrapped in azure light come charging toward her, her jade face draining to a deathly pallor.
The "Divine Sword Thunder-Commanding True Formula" is a supreme wondrous art among Taoist immortal techniques — one that draws upon the earth's utmost might through a mortal body. The immense pressure Lu Xueqi's body must be enduring at this very moment is beyond imagination. "Ya" is a peerless divine weapon, by its very nature the ideal blade for unleashing the "Divine Sword Thunder-Commanding True Formula," yet measured against the demands of that art, Lu Xueqi's own cultivation of the Tao falls sorely short.
In that moment, she felt only the boundless, immense force surging into her body like raging, tumultuous waves crashing amid the dark clouds. To outside eyes, nothing seemed to have changed about her, but within, her blood and qi churned violently, as though they might burst from the sheer pressure at any moment. Had Ya not been continuously drawing away the overwhelming force that had gathered and flooded toward her, Lu Xueqi feared she would have long since been unable to hold on.
The wind howled and thunder roared across the sky. She stood suspended in the air, and in a daze she nearly felt herself a helpless blade of grass at the mercy of the gale. Then, in the next instant, she recalled the words her master Shuiyue had spoken when passing this extraordinary technique to her: "Xueqi, your talent is the finest I have seen in all my years, but this true formula holds tremendous power—and so its backlash is all the more overwhelming and impossible to withstand. You have not walked the path of Cultivation for long. Though you may barely manage to grasp it, you must never cast it carelessly, lest you bring utter ruin upon yourself."
"Boom!"
A thunderclap exploded almost directly overhead above Tong Peak, and everyone vaguely felt the ground beneath their feet give a faint tremor — as though an ancient Thunder God had been roused from its deep slumber and was roaring in furious rage!
In an instant, every face changed color!
At this moment, Zhang Fan stood no more than two zhang from Lu Xueqi. Anyone who witnessed that fearsome display of power could see plainly that once Lu Xueqi completed her spell, he would surely be reduced to ash and dust. Yet all at once his entire body seized up — he jolted to a halt as though he had walked straight into a yielding wall, unable to advance a single step further.
In that instant, Zhang Fan's face drained of all color. The *Divine Sword Thunder-Command Formula* was one of Qingyun Sect's supreme mountain-guarding arts—of incomparable wonder. When invoked, it naturally wove an invisible ward around the caster through the divine weapon, and Zhang Fan found himself utterly unable to break through.
The Firewood Stick blazed with ever-greater brilliance, yet it could advance no further. Perhaps in raw Spiritual Energy and sheer momentum, Zhang Fan's Firewood Stick was no weaker than Lu Xueqi's—but when it came to technique, the gulf between them was immense. He was merely channeling his own Spiritual Energy to drive the Firewood Stick's power, and that could never match Lu Xueqi's peerless art, one honed and perfected over a thousand years by successive generations of Qingyun Sect's founding patriarchs.
But at that moment of utter despair—as the colossal vortex overhead spun faster and faster, thunder and lightning roaring with full fury, and the Yashen Sword blazing with ever-brightening radiance, the peerless immortal art on the very cusp of completion—Xue Qi suddenly shuddered. Her face, snow-white only a heartbeat before, flooded scarlet in an instant, and she spat a great mouthful of blood that dissolved into a crimson mist in the air before her.
The Ya divine sword immediately began to flicker and waver, as though on the verge of losing stability. Lu Xueqi clenched her teeth, closed her eyes, and poured every last measure of her mental focus and spiritual essence into the Ya. A moment later, the sword's radiance steadied — and not merely returned to what it had been before, but surpassed it entirely, blazing with a brilliance too dazzling to behold.
A thunderous boom erupted from within the dark clouds. At the deepest point of that massive vortex, a streak of radiance seemed to emerge — countless bolts of lightning converging into one, faintly trained upon the Yashén Sword in Lu Xueqi's hand.
Yet despair flooded Xueqi's heart. From within the howling gale came exactly what she had feared — a sharp, piercing shriek. She had poured every last measure of her strength into shielding Ya, leaving nothing with which to sustain the protective barrier around herself. Zhang Fan's elation surged; he and the fire-poking staff fused into a single column of dark azure light that cleaved through the air and hurtled toward the beautiful woman swaying helplessly in the wind.
Is that all?
Is this where it all ends?
Her heart grew suddenly still. In that single instant, the thought drifted through her mind, faint and unhurried.
In that instant—that brief, fleeting instant—the earth fell silent, frozen still; all things stood suspended in place. Only she remained, standing in the wind, robes billowing, dark hair adrift, as she opened her closed eyes and gazed ahead at the streak of azure light hurtling toward her.
That moment seemed eternal!
Zhang Fan caught sight of her — and her eyes!
She stood alone in the wind and rain, facing the earth's overwhelming might with such serenity — yet her complexion had gone slightly pale, and in her eyes there lingered a trace of sorrow, along with a sliver of fear.
Wind and rain howled, desolate and bleak, as this beautiful woman gazed at him in silence.
Whose eyes were those — so sorrowful, so utterly desolate — as though the night before, that person had been broken by love! A pain like that, it had seeped deep into the marrow, deep into the very soul.
Deeply! Deeply!
Is it you, the woman who loves another?
Do you hold him in your heart — resolute, unwavering, without a single regret for the rest of your life?
Zhang Fan suddenly smiled — a smile laced with sorrow and quiet resignation, as though last night had come again.
The Flame Staff dissolved into the radiance of the Yanshen Sword, and no one could make out the two figures any longer, nor could they see that the Flame Staff's brilliance had suddenly dimmed. At that moment, a thunderous roar split the air, and an incomparably massive pillar of lightning descended from the heavens, crashing down upon the Yanshen Sword.
Across the entire earth, gods and Buddhas filled every corner, as if in that single moment, they chanted in unison.
A massive pillar of light refracted from the Ya, carrying a world-annihilating momentum as it surged toward Zhang Fan. At the critical juncture between life and death, the fire-stoking rod rose into the air and planted itself before its master.
The next moment, Zhang Fan was swallowed by the radiance.
For so long! For so long! For so long!
The dark clouds scattered, and the radiance vanished.
People stared blankly into the sky, watching that lone youth—clutching a black fire poker in his white-knuckled grip, like a stone that had endured every manner of torment and bore scars across every inch of its surface—fall straight down.
He did not fall to the ground—Tian Buyi appeared beneath him like a specter and caught him. His expression was grave, his movements swift as the wind; he immediately pried open the already-unconscious Zhang Fan's mouth, produced a vial from within his robes, and without bothering to count the dose, tipped the yellow pills directly past his lips.
The pill dissolved the moment it passed his lips. Tian Buyi said not a word—he leapt into the air, and a streak of crimson light surged forth at once, bearing him away with the speed of wind and thunder. He did not spare the arena so much as a single backward glance. By the direction he flew, he was heading back to Big Bamboo Peak.
Su Ru and the rest of the Great Bamboo Peak lineage also followed along, one after another.
At that moment, Lu Xueqi descended, her face drained of color, and was immediately surrounded by the jubilant disciples of Bamboo Peak. Amid the press of her fellow sisters, she said not a word—only tilted her head upward, eyes fixed on that streak of crimson light slowly fading and vanishing into the sky above, standing there in a wordless daze.
※※※
He seemed to have slumbered a thousand years in the darkness, yearning to wake yet unable to open his eyes; in that deep, boundless black, there was only him — utterly alone.
Yet he was resolute in his refusal, and so he walked on alone through this darkness — yet beyond the darkness, there was simply no path to be found.
So he was consumed by grief and rage, a roaring fire burning ceaselessly in the depths of his heart, and he swore a solemn oath to that Demon God of the Nine Abysses: even if his body and soul were both reduced to ash, he would kindle this single point of light — even if it meant burying everything in the world alongside himself.
That sliver of ferocity carried since time immemorial remained as untamed and defiant as ever!
Zhang Fan slowly opened his eyes.
Soft light filtered into his eyes, and the familiar scent of home drifted through the room.
Here, it seems no one is around.
He slowly sat up, just about to raise his hand to wipe away a bead of sweat from his forehead, when a sharp pain erupted simultaneously across his shoulder, chest, and abdomen. He sucked in a sharp breath on the spot, the agony draining all color from his face.
He sat on the bed, not daring to move again. Only after a long while did the gnawing pain slowly fade away.
By now it must have been past noon. The room door stood ajar, and both windows were propped open; through them one could dimly make out the courtyard's grass and bamboo, still lush and green. Hui, who always followed him, and Da Huang, who always followed Hui, were nowhere to be seen — could it be they had gone off to find a meaty bone again?
He smiled — facing the empty room, he smiled to no one but himself.
*Creak* — the door swung open, and the graceful, lovely Su Ru stepped inside. Zhang Fan stirred and called out "Master's Wife," but before he could rise, his face broke into another spasm.
Su Ru hurried to the bedside and sat down, saying softly, "Don't move, Fan."
Only when the pain had eased somewhat did Zhang Fan turn to Su Ru and say, "This disciple did not know you were coming, Shifu's wife."
Su Ru shot him an annoyed look, though most of her irritation had already faded. "You still have the presence of mind to remember that! Stop wasting words — sit down properly."
Zhang Fan gave an awkward smile. Su Ru examined him and nodded—the external wounds had mostly healed, but the internal Meridians were too severely damaged. Without proper rest and recuperation, there was simply no other way.
Zhang Fan said, "I have brought shame upon Master and Master's Wife. It is truly—"
Su Ru cut in: "If anything, you've brought great honor to your master. In nearly three hundred years, aside from when your master himself competed in the Seven Peaks Tournament, no disciple of Big Bamboo Peak has ever shone as brightly as you."
Zhang Fan's face turned red. He lowered his head and said, "It was merely this disciple's good fortune."
Su Ru smiled faintly and patted him on the shoulder. Zhang Fan suddenly remembered — the trial should be over by now. Who had claimed first place in the end? Was it that Sixth Senior Sister?
Su Ru shook her head slightly. "It's—it's Qi Hao from Long Feng."
Zhang Fan felt a sudden pang of bitterness in his heart for no reason he could name, and said in a low voice: "So it was Senior Brother Qi. He truly is formidable—even the Sixth Senior Sister, who possesses the Ya, was defeated at his hands."
Su Ru heard him say this and seemed to be touched by some thought of her own. She let out a low sigh and changed the subject: "Your injuries this time were no trifling matter. Your master expended tremendous effort treating you. As he told it, Lu Xueqi drew upon the Ya Divine Sword to invoke the Divine Sword Thunder-Subduing Formula — and though her cultivation was insufficient for such a technique — had it not been for that burned, that burned Artifact of yours taking the blow in your stead, even the immortals themselves would have been powerless to bring you back."
Zhang Fan heard her words and suddenly remembered. He looked around in all directions, but the black, ugly fire stick was nowhere to be found.
Su Ru looked at him, her tone indifferent: "That Artifact of yours was taken by your master."
Zhang Fan was momentarily stunned, then said in a low voice, unable to help himself, he asked once more about his father.
Su Ru said, "You were unconscious for five days and five nights. Your injuries didn't stabilize until last evening. Early this morning, the peak master senior brother of Tong Peak sent word, asking your master to pay a visit. He should be at Tong Peak right now."
Zhang Fan slowly nodded, his heart filled with feelings he could not quite name. He himself felt there should be nothing to worry about, yet this was the first time in two years that the fire poker had left his side, and a vague, inexplicable sense of loss quietly lingered within him.
Su Ru glanced at him, a flicker of something strange seeming to pass through her eyes, but she still said: "You only just woke up — don't exhaust yourself. Rest as much as you can. I've already given instructions for no one to come and disturb you; just have Bishu bring the three meals to you."
Zhang Fan said, "Many thanks, Master's wife."
Su Ru nodded. "Rest then. I'll have Bishu bring the food over later." She turned and walked toward the door. Just as she was about to step out, she suddenly heard Zhang Fan call out from behind her:
"Master's wife."
Did Su Ru turn around?"
Zhang Fan looked at her, seeming to hesitate for a moment, then said: "Shifu's wife, I wanted to ask — do you know how Lin Jingyu from Dragon Peak fared in this competition? At the time I was on Tong Peak and truly had no chance to find him and ask."
Su Ru glanced over it once more — he had made it into the top eight, but had been defeated at the hands of his fellow senior brother, Qi Hao."
Zhang Fan was taken aback for a moment, then he too offered his thanks to Shimu."
Su Ru gave a slight shake of her head. "Get some rest," she said, then turned and walked out.
Zhang Fan slowly lay down, gazing up at the ceiling of the room, silent.
※※※
On Tong Peak of Qingyun Mountain, within the Jade Purity Hall.
True Person Daoxuan sat at the center, while the seat-holders of the remaining six veins were also conspicuously present. Beyond them, there was no one else in the great hall.
No one spoke. True Person Daoxuan kept his brows low and eyes downcast, gazing at the black fire poker he turned idly between his fingers.
"Junior Brother Tian," True Person Daoxuan broke the silence, "what do you make of this?"
Tian Buyi was silent for a moment. "When Xiao Fan first came up the mountain, he had no such thing with him. Most likely, over these years, he came upon this treasure somewhere through some stroke of chance or fortune."
Standing to one side, Daoist Cangsong said coldly: "This staff can hold its own against Ya — it already ranks among divine weapons. Yet throughout all under heaven, I have never once heard of such a treasure."
Tian Buyi's expression darkened, and he said coldly: "The vast lands of the Divine Realm — how immense they truly are. Who knows how many once-in-an-age rare treasures still lie undiscovered out there. At most, you and I are nothing but frogs at the bottom of a well."
A flash of anger crossed Daoist Cangsong's face. Before he could respond, the cold voice of Master Shuiyue of Zhufeng Peak cut through the air: "We may well be frogs at the bottom of a well, but when that black staff was used, demonic energy roiled off it in waves — it is plainly a sinister object. I simply cannot understand why Senior Brother Tian failed to see it."
Tian Buyi let out a cold snort. "So black qi means demon qi? A few red threads means an evil creature? By that logic, I could go home and paint my face black — would all of you then brand me a devil-cult fiend and cut me down as well?"
True Person Daoxuan furrowed his brow. "Junior Brother, don't speak like that. How could you, out of nowhere, call yourself a fiend of the Demon Sect?"
Tian Buyi let out a cold snort, turned his head away, and said no more.
True Person Daoxuan let out a sigh and set the fire poker in his hand down on the side table beside him. "The reason I have invited you all here today is to deliberate on two matters. First, during this Seven Veins Martial Competition, the Big Bamboo Peak disciple Zhang Fan came into possession of a peculiar Artifact of unknown origin yet tremendous power. Second, you will recall that we previously agreed to send four disciples to the Ten Thousand Bats Ancient Cave on Kongsang Mountain to investigate—no one raised any objections to the other three candidates, yet when it came to this Zhang Fan..."
The more Tian Buyi listened, the angrier he became. He had already harbored some puzzlement over Zhang Fan's sudden, meteoric advancement in cultivation, and harbored doubts about that fire-stoking staff as well — but here in the Hall of Jade Clarity, with everyone else left untouched, it was his own disciple alone who was subjected to every manner of fault-finding. How could he not be furious? His face darkened on the spot. He rose sharply to his feet and declared in a loud voice: "Senior Brother Sect Master — what exactly do you intend to do?"
True Person Daoxuan had not expected Tian Buyi to react so strongly, and was caught off guard. The others all turned to look. Zeng Shuchang of Fenghui Peak, who sat beside Tian Buyi and had always been on fairly good terms with him, reached over and tugged at Tian Buyi's sleeve. "…yi, the Sect Leader didn't mean anything by it. Sit down first."
True Person Daoxuan's expression grew slightly grave. "Junior Brother, there is indeed something strange about this matter. As the head of our sect, I will handle it with impartiality — rest assured."
The anger on Tian Buyi's face remained, but taking in True Person Daoxuan's expression and with Zeng Shuchang beside him urging a few words, he finally sat back down.
True Person Daoxuan spoke slowly: "Fellow cultivators, you have all just examined this staff. Its outward appearance is plain and devoid of any aura, yet within it lurks a hidden baleful energy. But what matters most is this — with the cultivation we each possess, not one of us can command this object. Instead, it is a disciple whose realm reaches no higher than the Fourth Level of Yuqing who is able to wield it. How can this be?"
Everyone, Tian Buyi included, fell silent. They were all first-rate cultivators — how could they not understand this truth? It was simply that no one was willing to say it aloud.
In the end, it was True Person Daoxuan who spoke: "As I see it, this black staff is in all likelihood a 'blood-refined' object."
Though they had steeled themselves beforehand, those seated still could not help but let their expressions shift slightly. A blood-refined Artifact, as the name implied, was one forged by infusing the refiner's own vital blood essence into the treasure during its creation. Such an arcane technique was bizarre and perilous in its methods; the required materials were extraordinarily exacting, rare beyond one in ten thousand, and the refinement process itself was fraught with extreme danger—a single moment of carelessness and the ferocious, malevolent energy of the Artifact would backlash upon its maker, bringing a death so agonizing as to defy description. Of course, should one succeed, the resulting Artifact would be peerless in its might. There was also an added benefit: the treasure would be bound to its master through blood, so that unless another possessed the refiner's own bloodline, none could ever wield it. Yet precisely because fresh blood served as the catalyst, such weapons invariably carried within them a fierce and murderous aura.
It is said that this blood-refining technique was handed down from the ancient demonic gods, and has been passed through generations among the fiends of the Demonic Sect since time immemorial. Yet one rarely hears of any renowned blood-refined Artifact—most likely because the method is far too perilous, and even those within the Demonic Sect dare not attempt it lightly.
And yet, such an Artifact had now appeared on a mere young disciple of the Qingyun Sect.
True Person Daoxuan turned his gaze toward Tian Buyi. Tian Buyi's face had gone ashen. He rose slowly to his feet. "Brother, your reasoning may hold some merit, but I must still question it—Zhang Fan is no more than sixteen years old. How could he possibly know the Blood Refinement Technique? Moreover, since ascending the mountain, he has not set foot off it once in five years. When he first arrived, he had nothing to his name. Where would he have found materials for an Artifact that are all but impossible to come by anywhere in this world?"
Daoist Cangsong suddenly said in an icy tone: "Perhaps he is a member of the Demon Sect, deliberately planted within our Qingyun—it would come as no surprise!"
Tian Buyi flew into a rage. "If he truly possessed such cunning, how could he have used that object openly during the Seven Peaks Martial Tournament, right under the eyes of nearly a thousand people? And furthermore—if he truly is a spy of the demonic sect, heh heh, Senior Brother Cangsong, I'm afraid that Lin Jingyu under your tutelage is none too clean himself!"
Daoist Cangsong appeared to have been struck at a raw nerve. He shot to his feet in fury and snapped: "What do you mean by that?! How could Jingyu ever be mentioned in the same breath as that dull-witted disciple of yours?"
Tian Buyi's expression darkened further. He let out a cold snort and cast a sidelong glance. "My disciple may be dull-witted, but he still made it into the top four. I do wonder, though—what rank did that so-called prodigy Lin Jingyu, the one under Senior Brother Cang Song's tutelage, manage to achieve this time?"
Cangsong said furiously: "He was simply unlucky to run into his senior brother Qi Hao—had that not been the case, how could he have failed to make the top four!" At this, he let out a cold sneer, adding that unlike *some people*, whose luck had been so extraordinary that they had advanced all the way solely because their opponents forfeited or received byes—and yet that person still dared to brag so shamelessly!
Tian Buyi called out loudly, "Could it be that his match against Lu Xueqi was also a matter of luck?"
Daoist Cangsong carried on: "Precisely — and that is exactly why he lost, and lost so thoroughly at that, very nearly forfeiting his life in the bargain!"
Tian Buyi grew increasingly furious. He had never been particularly glib—nothing like Cang Song—yet the rage within him burned far deeper. His face flushed crimson as he snarled, "What do you intend? Are you looking to find out for yourself whether my reputation is nothing but hot air?"
Daoist Cangsong showed not the slightest intention of yielding. He rose at once, his bearing proud and unyielding: "Then let me experience Senior Brother Tian's Crimson Radiance Immortal Sword for myself!"
Tian Buyi said nothing more. He took a step forward, his right hand already closing into the sword seal, and across the great hall, the air suddenly seemed to congeal.
"Insolence!" A sharp crack rang out as True Person Daoxuan slammed his palm down on the tea table beside him. His face dark with fury, he rose to his feet. "Do the two of you take me, the Sect Master, for a dead man?!"
True Person Daoxuan had held the seat of Sect Master for nearly three hundred years, a figure of towering virtue and renown. Though ordinarily gentle in manner, this sudden burst of fury left Tian Buyi and Daoist Cangsong utterly shaken, their hearts roiling within them. They retreated at once and murmured in hushed voices, "Please calm your anger, Sect Master Elder Brother."
True Person Daoxuan glanced at the assembled seats. The anger on his face lingered for a long while before it slowly receded. He fell into silent contemplation, then said, "Junior Brother."
Tian Buyi stepped out. "Senior Brother."
True Person Daoxuan looked at him. "Whatever he may argue, that black staff has a suspicious origin. If it truly is an object of the Demonic Sect, then regardless of what ties Zhang Fan has with them, we cannot tolerate him — do you understand?"
Tian Buyi lowered his head slightly and remained silent for a long while before saying, "Yes."
True Person Daoxuan continued, "Brother Tian, I understand this weighs heavily on your heart, but the matter is of great consequence — we cannot afford to act without due care. Return for now, and once Zhang Fan's condition has improved somewhat, question him thoroughly, then bring him here so that we may deliberate together. What say you?"
Tian Buyi's face cycled between pale and red. All at once he stomped his foot hard, gave a curt nod, and without a single word, turned and walked out.
A sharp whoosh sounded from beyond the door — most likely someone had departed on their sword.
In the grand hall, Zeng Shuchang said to True Person Daoxuan: "Senior Brother Sect Master, Senior Brother Tian Buyi's Big Bamboo Peak lineage so rarely produces a talent, yet now such a thing has come to pass — it is only natural that he feels displeased. Please do not take it to heart."
True Person Daoxuan let out a sigh and shook his head. "I naturally would not take it to heart. I know what kind of person Junior Brother Tian is — and he is someone I trust."
At this point, he seemed to recall something and turned to Master Shuiyue of Bamboo Peak. "Sister Shuiyue, these past few days, that female disciple of yours—Lu Xueqi…"
Shuiyue said with quiet composure, "Thank you for your concern, Senior Brother. Xueqi has largely recovered. Had it not been for that peculiar person and their strange artifact from Senior Brother Tian Buyi's lineage—draining more than half of Xueqi's vitality in a single match—she would never have lost to anyone."
Cangsong's expression shifted, but True Person Daoxuan had already waved his hand ahead of him, saying, "Ah, it's all in the past—let it go."
Cangsong and Shuiyue shot each other a glare, then turned their heads away. True Person Daoxuan took it all in, his heart brimming with silent sighs, his gaze drifting almost against his will to the small tea table at his side—where that black, unsightly fire-stoking stick lay in quiet stillness.