…What was he thinking about every day?!
Feng Qingyun glared at Long Yin viciously and moved a little to the side with his Linshuang sword, acting as if he wanted to be buried at least 100,000 miles away from him. In fact, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with that man’s brain. Instead, he believed the Demon Lord was simply taking pleasure in bullying him before he died, so it was better to ignore him and be as cold as ever.
As for Long Yin, he unexpectedly said nothing as well, falling into a deep silence.
Of course, Feng Qingyun was a person with strong values. Before he died, he never wanted to remain enemies with the Demon Lord, planning to spare him from watching his cold face but…The end came sooner than he expected. Holding his sword and pursing his lips uncomfortably, he slowly closed his eyes for a moment.
The two of them simply lay like that in complete silence, carrying the sky on their crumbling shoulders. It wasn’t just Feng Qingyun who knew. It was painfully obvious to both of them that even the power of a Nascent Soul cultivator would be like hitting a stone wall with an egg. In front of the collapsing Heavenly Gate, both of them could only hold on for a stick of incense. The end of the world was still inevitable.
However, even though they knew they were mere mantises trying to stop an approaching cart, the cave still fell silent, and no one spoke back. At that moment, even time seemed to have lost its meaning. Later, it was finally Feng Qingyun’s turn to experience the great pain of having the power accumulated in his Dantian drained bit by bit.
It was a kind of chronic death similar to Lingchi[mfn]Lingchi (凌遲), usually translated to “slow slicing” or “death by a thousand cuts”, a form of torture and execution used in China from around the 10th century until the early 20th century. It was also used in Vietnam and Korea[/mfn].
Fortunately, Feng Qingyun was used to cutting his newly formed branches, so he didn’t find it that difficult to bear. In fact, he even had the energy to recall some past events.
Some past events that involved him and the Demon Lord.
One could say that the grudge that ran between them was anything but shallow. As a spiritual plant, he only cultivated for 300 years before entering the Foundation-Building stage, and, in fact, he was the youngest cultivator in the world to achieve that rare feat. However, on the day of his transformation, Long Yin came uninvited. That man had clearly cultivated his own sword techniques, but he still stood outside the Heavenly Gate, insisting on using the Xiān Gōng Sect’s teachings and fighting him, a newly born cultivator.[mfn]I have a bit of an issue kipping up with the timeline since they all talk about hundreds of years :)) what we know so far is that Feng Qingyun and Mu Hanyang have known each other for 600 years. FQ cultivated for 300 years and managed to gain a human form and become a Foundation-Building cultivator, however his cultivation has stagnated ever since. 300 years ago is also the first time MC and ML “apparently” met, when Long Yin came to the annual Heavenly Gate Ceremony that Xiān Gōng Sect sect was hosting and fought him. In fact, 300 years ago was also when MC’s and Mu Hanyang’s Dao ceremony took place, so we can pinpoint that as the starting point of their first life, before the collapse of the world. There are encounters between MC and ML that happened before that 300 years ago point, but we haven’t reached them yet :))[/mfn]
Despite all of that, Feng Qingyun didn’t harbor resentment for the defeat in itself. Losing due to insufficient skill was, after all, a common part of a cultivator’s journey. Moreover, Long Yin was famous for his erratic temperament. That person… Probably had a problem with his brain, wielding his sword against whomever he pleased, seemingly guided by capricious whims. Originally, Feng Qingyun wouldn’t have paid any attention to such a little thing…
…But that was impossible. After all, Long Yin not only defeated him but also humiliated his beloved brother in front of thousands of people.
“Your sword lacks a pure heart, Little Palace Master.” The untamed and handsome man held his sword and smiled in front of the Heavenly Gate. “It seems that your brother is not doing a good job. Why don’t you come to the demon world with me? I’ll teach you well in his place–“[mfn]looks like Mu Hanyang was right after all. It does sound like he came over to flirt, not fight :))[/mfn]
Before his words were even over, Mu Hanyang, who happened to return to Xiān Gōng Sect, took out his sword in anger.
However, it all ended in a tie.
The leader of the Righteous Path and the infamously demented Demon Lord managed to match each other blow for blow. Worse still, there were hints of Mu Hanyang actually struggling during the fight, actions that did not escape the keen eyes of those present.
The disciples of Xiān Gōng Sect, who had stood proudly just moments ago, now found their faces pale with shock. As for Feng Qingyun, he felt humiliated alongside his brother, angry enough to immediately spit out a mouthful of blood.
And yet, his strength was simply inadequate. By the end of that entire farce, the Righteous Path still had to bow its head and make peace with the demons, eager to maintain a fragile peace.
However, those were mundane affairs. Negotiating with cultivators should have never been the Demon Lord’s responsibility, but that particular Demon Lord had a faulty wire in his brain. No matter what, he had to come over in person every day, using all kinds of methods to bother Feng Qingyun.
So in that way… Leaving aside the matter of losing face and their incompatible identities, there was actually no life-and-death feud between the two of them.
But unfortunately, there were some things that couldn’t be forgotten. To that day, Feng Qingyun still remembered the trouble that Long Yin had found for him in the past few hundred years, along with that sword that defeated him in front of everyone. In fact, he still hated it so much that only stabbing that man a couple of times could make him happy.
Just as Feng Qingyun was immersed in his thoughts, Long Yin, who had been silent for a long time, asked randomly: “Speaking of which, where is the hairpin I gave you?”
Feng Qingyun suddenly returned to his senses and said with a cold face: “I smashed it.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, a torrent of yellow, murky water poured into the cave, and the darkness instantly wrapped around them. In the end, there was no extra spiritual power to block the Yellow Springs, and their bodies would soon be eroded.
“Tsk, why did you smash it?” Long Yin said regretfully, just as if he didn’t feel the approaching flood. “I specially carved those peach blossoms for you. If the Little Palace Master sees how other flowers bloom, he may be able to learn from them… But now, I’m afraid you won’t be able to bloom in this life.”
The gloating in his words was almost undisguised. Feng Qingyun gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, unwilling to pay any attention to him at all, while the deadly water gradually accumulated in the cave, stretching all the way up to their calves. In that silent environment, Feng Qingyun faintly heard a crisp sound. It was the sound of the sky cracking.
Even with the combined strength of the two of them, they couldn’t hold on any longer.
Long Yin obviously realized that matter a long time ago, but the approaching death did not shake him at all. Instead, it gave him a reason to ask: “I’ve always been curious… What kind of spiritual plant doesn’t bloom for 600 years? Since you and I are going to die here today, the Little Palace Master might as well tell me what’s your real form.”
Feng Qingyun finally reacted. Cold sweat had soaked his clothes, but his face didn’t show any of his distress. He just sneered and answered: “You’re dreaming.”
Long Yin was not annoyed by that answer. If anything, he almost seemed to be at peace with not knowing. The two of them looked at the surging yellow waters and fell into silence again.
After a long time, when the waters already reached past his waist, Long Yin suddenly asked without warning: “Do you regret it?”
Feng Qingyun was stunned. There was no name, no reason, just an unclear sentence.
But he strangely understood it.
Do you regret that you were stubborn enough to insist on getting married even when you knew there wouldn’t be any result?
Do you regret getting mixed with the common affairs of your sect and giving up on your cultivation? As a mere Foundation-Building cultivator, there’s no hope for you to ascend.
Do you regret that you have been struggling for a hundred years, but in the end, you still have to pay for being foolish?
Feng Qingyun’s heart trembled and he suddenly opened his eyes.
In the dark, his body was submerged in the Yellow Springs, and the scorching winds cut through. He could hear his heartbeat, along with the last breath he was about to exhale.
Being his brother’s Dao companion was his deeply sought-after obsession. As for the Xiān Gōng Sect, it was the only thing left behind by his master before she ascended.
For three hundred years, he had a clear conscience, and there should have been no regrets.
But…
“…I regret it.”
To outsiders, Feng Qingyun appeared as gentle as jade, but everyone who knew him was also aware of the fact that he never looked back, even if it meant hitting a wall. The word “regret” could come out of Mu Hanyang’s mouth but never out of his. However, maybe it was the fact that he was about to die, but his heart truly felt like it was filled with ashes. In that situation, and in front of his former enemy, he was actually able to blurt out words he thought were impossible for him.
Even the demon who was used to opening his mouth with malice couldn’t help but be stunned to hear him admit it. Long Yin looked up, but saw that Feng Qingyun’s side face was as quiet as the moonlight, with no visible regrets in between his eyebrows. In fact, it looked like he never spoke those words. The cave fell into silence once again, and Long Yin looked at his companion without blinking.
The Yellow Springs had almost reached their chests, and Feng Qingyun could no longer feel the existence of his Dantian. The spiritual power around him was almost squeezed out of his flesh and blood, mixed with boundless pain and suffering, precariously resisting the collapse of the entire world.
He should have been sad and angry, but after finally saying what was in his heart, he felt an unprecedented sense of peace. Perhaps facing your own heart was a way to reach the Dao as well.
After all, letting go of the thorns that you have clenched for a lifetime, even if your hand was now full of dripping blood, your mind should feel happy and peaceful.
But soon enough, Feng Qingyun could no longer maintain his calm.
“Is that so? If I had known you’d end up regretting it…” Long Yin’s speech was careless, as if he was talking about the weather, and not throwing thunderbolts that exploded right in Feng Qingyun’s ear. “I wouldn’t have hesitated to ruin your marriage ceremony and steal you.”
Feng Qingyun’s originally calm mood was suddenly broken. He raised his eyes in astonishment and looked at that man through the surging waters. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, Feng Qingyun said in an extremely unbelievable voice: “You…”
However, he didn’t know what to say after that.
Feng Qingyun, the acting leader of the Xiān Gōng Sect, the man whose face never changed even in front of death, was so shocked by the simple words spoken by the Demon Lord, so much that he lost his ability to speak for a moment.
And yet, when Long Yin saw him like that, he couldn’t help but laugh happily, just as if he had seen something that made him extremely pleased. He laughed and laughed, and when Feng Qingyun was about to become angry, he reluctantly stopped and asked with a smile: “How long can your spiritual power last?”
Feng Qingyun frowned slightly, a little confused, but he still replied: “…Just a stick of incense.”
“Then it seems that in a short while, we’ll become dust and return to the soil.” Long Yin dragged his voice and continued: “Since you’re going to die, I’ll give you an opportunity. You tell me what your real form is, and in exchange, I’ll tell you a secret. How about it?”
Feng Qingyun frowned: “You explain what you just said first–”
However, the demon interrupted him, and his next sentence made his heart suddenly stop: “Little Palace Master, don’t you want to know why no one else has ascended in the past three thousand years except for your master?”
Feng Qingyun’s breath turned slow.
“Tell me your real form,” the man hooked the corners of his mouth in a flirting way, “and I’ll tell you how to ascend… This deal is very cost-effective, isn’t it?”
Feng Qingyun was stunned. After a long time, he pursed his lips and finally opened his mouth awkwardly, squeezing out a few stiff words.
After hearing the answer, the demon was stunned and then showed a brilliant smile: “So, the lord of Xiān Gōng Sect, your body is actually so delicate–[mfn]we don’t know what his real body is yet, however, I have read a comment on the original novel, and one person commented: what if his real body is dog grass? I don’t know about you, but I’ve found that hilarious. The real body of a powerful demon is just some random blade of grass on the roadside[/mfn]”
“…Shut up!” Feng Qingyun blushed and said angrily: “Tell me the promised method of ascending!”
“Your body should be able to blossom, right? Will it bear fruit after flowering? What is the fruit for you? Your child?” The demon said with interest. “When the fruit hangs from you, will I be able to touch it?”
The Yellow Springs was almost up to his mouth and yet… Feng Qingyun was extremely ashamed. Here he was, dying, but he still had to protect his innocence! And so, he immediately pulled out his sword and threw it directly at him, although he could no longer aim properly.
“You untrustworthy bastard!”
Poor Feng Qingyun was raised in Xiān Gōng Sect all his life, and he didn’t even know how to properly curse people. At present, those words sounded almost innocent.
His aim was bad, and the world-famous Linshuang Sword was also thrown out like a wooden stick, sticking to the stone wall one inch away from Long Yin and cutting off a bit of his hair.
“If you were to believe every word I say, you wouldn’t be a righteous cultivator anymore.” Long Yin didn’t hide, as if he was sure the sword would not hit his chest. “But for the sake of your trust in me, I’ll tell you one of my secrets in exchange.”
However, Feng Qingyun gritted his teeth, squeezing out his last trace of spiritual power in a cold sweat: “…The sky is about to collapse! Who wants to hear your secret, you bastard–”
“My resolve to cultivate the Ruthless Path has long been broken.”
Feng Qingyun was stunned: “…What?!”
He was left dumbfounded by the news. He just wanted to ask the man to clarify, but Long Yin suddenly smiled. The next moment, his spiritual consciousness disappeared in an instant, and the long-forgotten Heavenly Dao finally suppressed them with an unstoppable momentum.
Feng Qingyun’s face went blank for a moment. He never expected that the Demon Lord who kept on teasing him just a moment ago would reach the end of the road before him, leaving behind a dry lamp after burning all of its oil. However, he should have thought about it. After all, Long Yin was already mortally wounded by the time he arrived in this cave, and he had no idea for how long he had been holding on before that.
Even his own spiritual power could hardly be squeezed out, let alone Long Yin’s.
…So what was he talking about earlier?! What kind of hero was he playing?!
Before Feng Qingyun could open his mouth, he saw the Demon Lord, who should have run out of time and had his soul scattered, slowly stood up, holding his sword in his one remaining left hand. Despite the damage his body had sustained, his figure did not look weak at all, but it surprisingly held the momentum of a righteous man.
Like a dragon at the end of its road, even with broken claws, he could still stand in front of those he wanted to protect.
The next moment, Long Yin boldly raised his sword and the ferocious flood was suddenly split in two. He then turned around alone in the deadly waters, looking up at the stone wall that gradually disappeared and revealed the terrible void behind.
He still looked like an emperor, standing atop the world. Even like that, with not even a single drop of power left in his body, no one dared to question his title as the Demon Lord.
“Okay, it’s time for me to go.” When the man opened his mouth again, his voice sounded somewhat soft, as if he was trying to coax a lover he had to leave in a hurry. “Don’t be afraid, I’ll clean the road for you first.”
Feng Qingyun’s body was shocked all over as soon as he realized what Long Yin was trying to do. He actually planned to use his body to shield him from the upcoming flood!
Both shock and some other indescribable emotions filled Feng Qingyun’s heart, but in the end, the man only left his back and a sentence: “As for the way of ascending that I still owe to you… I’ll tell you next time.”
“…”
What next time?!
However, under the collapse of the sky, even sacrificing yourself and standing in the way of heaven could only buy you three more breaths of time. Before Feng Qingyun could even ask, the Yellow Springs swallowed Long Yin and then rushed to him.
As for the little spiritual power left in his body, it was only enough for Feng Qingyun to outlive Long Yin by a couple of seconds.
After less than ten breaths, the sky collapsed, and the flood covered everything in sight, drowning the last traces of life.
……………………..
As usual, up to five chapters in advance are available here. Happy reading!
