Chapter 45

The sea is endless; the sky is empty.

The meeting and parting of humans in the world are just like weeds in the water currents.

There is a hole on the ‘precious’ belt of Tang Zhenren that she didn’t bother to mend. As they float over the windy sea, the salty air makes Yan Zhengming’s rather messy hair whip into his face. All he can feel is that both the air and water of this place are ominous, in addition to being seemingly endless.

Puddle has fallen asleep in the lap of Zhe Shi. Han Yuan, who is hugging his knees next to them, looks sleepy too. Li Yun can’t hold it in anymore and asks, “Most senior brother, where are we going after this?”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming takes a deep breath and squeezes his forehead. Dark rings are under his eyes. To tell the truth, he is even more at a loss than Li Yun.

Everyone looks to him for an answer, but whom can he ask?

Yan Zhengming feels that he really isn’t worthy of the sect leader seal on his chest. Perhaps he isn’t born to be a leader. In the past twenty years, when he doesn’t just float around, he is forced by someone else to move forward. If there is no one pushing him, he doesn’t know which direction he should take.

Seeing that he is upset, Li Yun pulls at him. “Most senior brother?”

“Take a rest,” Yan Zhengming focuses again and soothes his disciple brother. “There is nothing to worry about. If there is nowhere else to go, you can stay with my family for a while.”

As he utters these words, even Cheng Qian turns back.

To tell the truth, if they don’t go back to Fuyao Mountain, it makes no difference to him whether they take shelter with the Yan family or go begging on the streets. He basically has no preference. However, at the moment, he must speak up. If something happened to Xue Qing, it’s likely that the group of Yu-er was ambushed on the way. With their wealth and reputation, the Yan family would be a major target. Can they even survive?

Cheng Qian hesitates for a good while, then says, “Brother…”

He catches Yan Zhengming’s expression, and uncharacteristically feels at a loss.

On one hand, Cheng Qian understands he must tell his most senior brother what he knows. However, as he sees Yan Zhengming’s tired face, he has no heart to let out the words that press behind his lips.

Yan Zhengming forces himself to control his expression. Pretending to be unbothered by anything, he asks, “What’s the matter, Copper Coin?”

Cheng Qian looks at him hesitantly, his gaze instinctively evasive.

At first, Yan Zhengming feels warmed by this rarely seen shy gaze. Immediately afterwards, he realises that something is wrong. A sense of foreboding fills his heart.

As expected, Cheng Qian says almost guiltily, “I have to tell you something. You have to be calm, alright?”

Cheng Qian is very rarely roundabout to Yan Zhengming like that, which makes the latter very nervous.

Cheng Qian grits his teeth to focus his determination, then says quickly, “The puppet charm I gifted Xue Qing-ge is broken.”

Zhe Shi is so startled he nearly drops Puddle. Han Yuan raises his head with a helpless expression. Li Yun is startled, but he recovers immediately and shudders.

Yan Zhengming on the other hand looks at Cheng Qian dazedly for a long while without saying anything.

Fearing that he is lost in despair and acts rashly, Cheng Qian hastily adds, “That doesn’t necessarily mean something bad really happened. Don’t think of the worst case scenario yet.”

Even he himself feels that this can’t convince anyone, so he forgets the rest of his speech. Cheng Qian is very good at ruining people’s good mood, but he doesn’t know how to soothe another person, so he clumsily says, “Maybe he lost it out of carelessness. Or he lent it to someone who broke it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Apparently having just calmed himself, Yan Zhengming continues what Cheng Qian says with a weak smile. “Maybe he encountered a storm in the sea. Maybe your puppet charm saved him… uhm…”

His body suddenly shakes slightly. Then, as if choked by the sea wind, he coughs behind his hand for a long while.

Cheng Qian tries to speak, but in the end he doesn’t know what to say. He tries putting his hand on Yan Zhengming’s shoulder. There is a little warmth emanating from the body of his most senior brother, but before he can touch it, it is blown away by the sea wind. Cheng Qian recalls when he met his most senior brother for the first time. Back then, Yan Zhengming looked like a hot-house flower, so Cheng Qian immediately categorised him to be a spoiled and lazy rich kid that was addicted to burning incense in Land of Tenderness.

Back then, there was no callous in his palm, or sorrow in his heart. How happy he was.

Why does it fall to him to bear the burdens of a life in exile and this helplessness in the face of unexpected disaster?

That day is fated to be full of upheavals. As Cheng Qian is still full of sorrow, strong winds rise from the sea.

The sea shakes like an earthquake. Great waves that are like walls of water appear seemingly out of nowhere one after another.

The sea wind goes from normal to fierce, making Tang Wanqiu’s torn belt shake dangerously. It wobbly flies higher, but there doesn’t seem to be enough power. There is the sound of torn fabric. The belt is ripped apart from where the hole is!

The torn part is right under Cheng Qian’s feet, making him fall from the belt. Yan Zhengming reacts in time and turns and grabs his hand. The blood he has been hiding in his palm smears all over Cheng Qian.

Clutching Shuang Ren out of instinct, Cheng Qian unconsciously mobilises his spiritual energy reserve. In this life and death moment, the sword gives off a soft clang. Cheng Qian catches that sound in time, even if it is drowned out by the waves immediately. He startles, unsure whether to laugh or to cry. That’s obviously the sign of his mind being concentrated on the sword!

Cheng Qian calls, “Most senior brother, release me!”

Yan Zhengming ignores him. After a round of extreme emotions, he acts like being possessed. The only thought in his heart is that he can’t let Cheng Qian go, even at the cost of death.

In the state of emergency, Cheng Qian doesn’t have the time to struggle with him. He quickly recites the spell for concentrating the mind and sword riding. Perhaps because of the critical moment or the pressure of danger, in addition to him skipping a considerable step between concentrating the mind and riding the sword, Shuang Ren floats unsteadily in the air.

Yan Zhengming finally calms down as his hand suddenly feels light. He withdraws his mind and quickly loosens his hold to avoid disturbing Cheng Qian with external force. “No… Don’t force yourself. Move slowly over here, slowly. You aren’t used to flying yet. Slower.”

Cheng Qian of course dares not be rash. Concentrating one’s mind in the sword means turning the sword into an integral part of the body. A normal person on steady ground would stumble and fall if they suddenly grew a leg. Not to mention that Shuang Ren isn’t an docile leg. He can’t fully subdue it yet.

Daring not to lose his focus for a second, Cheng Qian steadily controls his spiritual energy and slowly commands Shuang Ren to move close to Tang Wanqiu’s belt. However, right in the moment Yan Zhengming can reach out and help him, events take a sudden turn.

A column of water suddenly rises from the sea, forming a great wave. When striking from above, the sea water carries an indescribable force. Cheng Qian’s chest is squeezed so tightly that he can’t breathe. He immediately loses control of Shuang Ren, making both human and sword speed off.

The panicked shouts around him are immediately drowned out. Cheng Qian only has enough time to clutch at the sword handle as he falls head-first into the sea. Being hit by a great wave from above right after that, he loses consciousness.

Luckily he doesn’t let go of the sword out of instinct. Shuang Ren’s scabbard has fallen somewhere, while the blade, which slices even the hair strands the waves push onto it, sweeps by Cheng Qian’s body and ruthlessly cuts his thigh. The wound, which is steeped in the sea water, hurts so much that it wakes Cheng Qian up.

Having swallowed a few mouthfuls of sea water, he tries all his might to hold in his breath and struggle.

Although Cheng Qian claims not to be afraid of dying, he doesn’t want to get drowned so pointlessly in the sea like this.

Unfortunately, he isn’t really a good swimmer, which is something of an insult to the Sea Tide Sword he favours. He can swim a little in the calm inland springs and rivers, but he can’t handle a raging sea like this.

Cheng Qian shakily makes the hand sign. A thin air bubble forms unsteadily forms around his body. Unfortunately, such strong sea waves can tear up even Tang Zhenren’s belt. This feeble effort using what little remains of his energy reserve is basically useless.

The air bubble keeps trying to fly up, but it keeps being destroyed by the waves. Every time that happens, Cheng Qian chokes on the sea water. By the time his consciousness begins to flicker, he has lost counts of how many times he has been going up and down. Gradually, he no longer can tell if he is floating or sinking, having no energy left to even paddle.

Cheng Qian only feels cold.

His sword is cold. The water is cold. So cold that he is losing his consciousness.

He can’t help thinking of the funeral of the old man next door that he witnessed in his childhood at that village. It seems to be a previous life. The old man’s wife made a thick burial robe for him from the cotton accumulated in two years. That was Cheng Qian’s first impression of death.

He thinks, death must be very cold.

However, this time, Cheng Qian doesn’t manage to die.

When he opens his eyes again, the sun is setting.

As Cheng Qian springs up, pain surges on his back so much that he nearly lies down again. He discovers that he is lying on a large rock on the sea. The injury caused by the sword on his thigh, which has gone bleached from soaking in the sea, is torn up raggedly. There is a layer of chalk white salt on his bare skin.

Someone speaks from behind his back, “Are you still alive?”

Cheng Qian turns his head and sees a ‘wildling’ sitting cross-legged behind him.

That person looks even more miserable than him. His tattered clothes seem to barely cover his body. His hair and beard are overgrown, such that only the two eyes are visible, the electric gaze of which sweeps by Cheng Qian. In the beginning, Cheng Qian only feels that this person looks vaguely familiar. Then he gives a startled cry. “You’re Wen Ya Zhenren?”

Wen Ya glares at him and says heatedly, “Are you blind or amnesiac? What are you yelling about?”

Cheng Qian’s temples throb as if pierced by needles. Suddenly meeting an acquaintance here, he has the urge to let out everything, about his Master, his disciple brother, the lord of the island, Tang Zhenren. However, he wipes out all of such unnecessary weakness, and calms down again.

Cheng Qian swallows all of those words together with the bitterly salty sea water, and respectfully salutes Wen Ya Zhenren. Then he plants Shuang Ren next to him, and sits down to regulate his energy and heal himself. His spiritual energy, which was lost to the sea water, quickly recovers.

Wen Ya watches him for a few seconds. Unable to hide the admiration and ruefulness on his face, he thinks, “Xiao-Chun said this kid could be a reincarnation of his master. Looking at him like this, they’re indeed rather similar.”

He quietly stays by Cheng Qian and watches over they boy until after midnight. A sky full of star hangs over the sea; the tide withdraws, revealing the remaining part of the rock.

As Cheng Qian finishes, he hears Wen Ya Zhenren speaking. “This ‘Sword of Terrible Death’ is willful to the point of disobedience. It can’t be moved by either sentiment or reason. You should already realise that.”

Startled, Cheng Qian immediately understands what happened. “You’re the one who left this sword in my room?”

Wen Ya snorts. “Who else? Thanks to the grace of your damned sect, I can’t even keep a lousy inn by the sea. Because I was seen with you guys, I’ve been pursued by some fuckers. I planned to return your sect’s properties that had been entrusted to me, then changed to a new location. But being timely is better than being early, I was just in time for the farce on Azure Dragon Island.”

Cheng Qian asks, “Did this sword belong to my master?”

Wen Ya laughs. “Bullshit. How could a softie like your master command something so aggressive? It belonged to your disciple grandfather, then as Fate willed it, it fell into my possession. Back then your sect were full of children and invalids. None of you could be relied on, so I kept the thing for you. If the wielder of this sword has a heart of stone, it will help him conquer the world. If he has only a little weakness, it will betray him. That sword is basically a bully of the weak and a coward against the strong. Your sect keeps degenerating; the later generation can’t catch up with their forefathers. You lot are especially bad. Well, to take the least bad option, only you have some chance with it.”

Those words give Cheng Qian a strange feeling. Sensing that this senior is only good for gossips, he immediately stands up and takes his leave. “Thank you for rescuing me. I still need to look for my disciple brothers. Pardon my rudeness.”

“Wait,” Wen Ya calls him back. “Do you know where they are?”

Cheng Qian has some notion that there is only one small island in the East Sea. Yan Zhengming and the others must be somewhere nearby. Although he still needs more practice, he can already ride his sword. Seizing the opportunity when the weather is good, he can fly around the nearby area and look for them. It shouldn’t be hard.

Right after that, he is stunned by what Wen Ya says. “I can tell you. They are on a wild island less than five miles away from there. You can ride your sword there. But take my advice, don’t go there. Zhou Hanzheng has landed on that island too.”

Cheng Qian stiffens.

Wen Ya continues. “Last night the whole of Eastern Sea shook, that even you kids were affected. Meaning someone powerful fell. Gu Yanxue, alas. That Zhou bastard must have escaped during the chaos too. Hmph, he sure ran fast.”

Cheng Qian wasn’t very impatient at first, but he loses his composure as he hears these words from Wen Ya. Before Wen Ya finishes talking, he already flies into the sky with Shuang Ren.

Wen Ya didn’t expect him to be so rash. Cursing under his breath, he quickly releases a ray of light, which forms an ‘immortal binding rope’. The rope chases after Cheng Qian, ties him up, and drags him back to the rock.

Wen Ya angrily says, “Are you mad? Do you want to die? Who ever said you were the reincarnation of that old demon must be blind!”

These words are out of nowhere, but Cheng Qian understands what they refer to. He struggles with all his might. “I’m not. It’s just a mistake of my Master’s. Senior, Zhou Hanzheng is evil in both thoughts and deeds. He may harm my disciple brothers. Please have some understanding and release me.”

Wen Ya says, “Don’t disregard everything just like that. That Zhou fucker may be bad, but with his level… I could be a match for him at the height of my power. But you? Nah.”

Cheng Qian doesn’t waver. “Thank you, senior, for your insight. Of course I’m no match for him. But I can be sneaky and assassinate him. Please don’t make it difficult for me.”

Wen Ya: “...”

He has no idea how Cheng Qian can say these words. Among mortals, a sixteen or seventeen year old youth can be considered old enough to be relied on. However, among the cultivators who all live for centuries, he is just a mere baby.

Wen Ya can’t imagine how Han Muchun raised this brat Cheng Qian. Not only he isn’t afraid of someone stronger than him, he is also unflinchingly ruthless!

Cheng Qian begins to feel like a fire is burning in his heart. Only his regard for Wen Ya as an old friend of Muchun Zhenren keeps him polite. He patiently says, “Senior Wen!”

“Your sect…” Wen Ya suddenly sighs. “Kid, you children can’t handle the burden that is Fuyao Mountain.”

Cheng Qian doesn’t get why this man insists on cursing Fuyao Sect to fall. However, remembering that this man didn’t say anything nice when he was with his Master, Cheng Qian feels normal again. He doesn’t argue back, and just stares stubbornly at Wen Ya, while discreetly investigating the immortal binding rope on his body to find an opening for escape.

Unexpectedly, a second later, he feels his body is released. Wen Ya has withdrawn his immortal binding rope.

Wen Ya says, “To be able to ride a sword at your age, it can be considered an accomplishment. Your master and I had been friends for a long time, so I have no heart to watch you go find death, so…”

Before his speech is over, a few shades appear on the rock. Wen Ya has released three shades made from his mind.

“If you can escape these three shades, I won’t stop you leaving anymore,” Wen Ya says, “There is a condition though. I don’t care for your Fuyao Sect’s garish swordplay. Pick one move, and if you can use that move to destroy my shades, you can go assassinate whoever you like.”

If only one move is permitted, isn’t it a contest of energy reserve?

Cheng Qian nearly laughs out loud because of frustration. In his eyes, this Wen senior doesn’t have the attitude appropriate for his age. For this man to demand a contest of energy reserve, it isn’t different from an adult wanting to do arm wrestling with a five year old child.

How incurably embarrassing.