Volume Five: The River’s Breath, A Life Once Lived – Chapter 122

One year later, at the Sanctum of Heaven.

"The Wood God has fallen!"

This was the third deity to perish this month. Within the Taiyi Hall, Jinli gazed at the scattered primordial spirits swirling within the Taiyi Wheel, her eyes filled with sorrow.

Would it be her turn next?

She walked slowly, the hem of her gown trailing behind her like unfolding petals, looking as holy as ever.

"High Goddess, the Heavenly Lord has arrived," a young attendant reported from behind.

Jinli stiffened, then suppressed the sorrow on her face and turned her head. "I understand."

She turned, transformed into her immortal robes, and departed from the Taiyi Hall.

Since their parting at Shanjin City, she had heard no news of the youth. She had returned to the Sanctum of Heaven, drawing close to Tushan Yan, intent only on uncovering the truth. Following leads, she had traveled to the Western Wilderness, but upon reaching the northwest desert, she found only the fragmented divine consciousness of Tushan Yan scattered across the sands.

She brought that consciousness back to the Sanctum of Heaven. The sacred light of the realm returned, and overnight, the once-ruined sanctum saw birds returning to their nests and auspicious clouds blanketing the sky.

At the Celestial Palace.

As soon as Jinli entered, the Heavenly Lord was waiting in the courtyard. Seeing her, he raised his hands in a bow. "High Goddess."

Her brow smoothed, her expression remaining neutral. She nodded slightly and asked, "For what purpose has the Heavenly Lord come today?"

The Sanctum of Heaven had always remained aloof from the affairs of the Celestial Clan. Whatever matter could drive the Heavenly Lord to visit this secluded corner must be a thorny issue indeed.

She sat down and poured him a cup of tea. She heard the Heavenly Lord say, "I have heard some things recently. For the sake of peace in the six realms, I wish to discuss them with you, High Goddess."

Her gaze lifted, falling upon the black mole on the Heavenly Lord’s wrist. After a long moment, she regained her focus and asked, "What matter could trouble the Heavenly Lord so?"

"Are you aware of the events unfolding in the six realms?"

She had been avoiding the news of the six realms lately, and whenever she returned to Lianchuan and heard Qisui discussing such things, she treated them merely as stories.

"What events?"

"Recently, a disciple of the Immortal Sect betrayed his master and destroyed his ancestors. He even burned an entire immortal mountain to the ground. Ordinarily, such a matter would be handled by the Celestial Officials, but... even Sang Li cannot subdue him. He possesses a heavy aura of malevolence. I suspect he may have turned to the demonic path." As the Heavenly Lord spoke, his eyes remained fixed on Jinli’s expression.

Her heart suddenly stopped; the term "Immortal Sect disciple" felt like a boulder crushing her, leaving her unable to breathe.

She had been avoiding the truth—was it truly the youth she knew? The youth who had lain on the cold floor, slowly closing his eyes?

"Does the Heavenly Lord suspect that the sixth Demon Lord of the Demon God is about to be born?"

Indeed, she had hit the mark.

The Heavenly Lord’s expression grew grave. He sighed, "That is precisely what worries me."

Jinli’s jade-like fingers rubbed the rim of her teacup. "Does the Heavenly Lord wish for me to go down and investigate? To assist the Crown Prince?"

The Heavenly Lord smiled. "Nothing escapes you, High Goddess. The way you look right now reminds me somewhat of Emperor Yaocen."

Three emperors had fallen in succession; the title of "Emperor" no longer existed within the six realms.

She remained indifferent. Rising to her feet, she asked, "What is the name of this degenerate from the Immortal Sect?"

"Huaigui."

Her heart tightened, a sudden, sharp pain causing her to gasp. She clenched the hands hidden beneath her wide sleeves, then asked, "Once captured, how does the Heavenly Lord intend to deal with him?"

The Heavenly Lord stood up as well, hands behind his back. "Naturally, I will strip his immortal bones and cast him into the Night Miasma." He glanced at Jinli. "I heard that when you were at Shanjin City, you wounded him severely?"

"...Is that so? I have forgotten." With that, she walked away on her own accord. Pear blossoms from the Celestial Palace drifted down, landing on her shoulders. Her palms felt icy; she looked down to see a petal as white as jade resting in her hand.

"Whatever the case, I trust you will handle this impartially, for the sake of the immortal realm's peace."

The Heavenly Lord’s face was smooth and fair, his features refined and sharp. Even without his white beard, his expression was stern, carrying a kingly aura that others lacked. His eyes were narrow and long, tinged with calculation. He had always looked this way, yet to Jinli, he felt different now.

But she could not pinpoint exactly what was different.

"Of course."

Hearing this, he turned and left.

Jinli was left alone in the Celestial Palace.

She looked down again, and suddenly, her vision turned blood-red. The youth’s blood stained her hands; warm blood flowed through her fingers, dripping onto the floor tiles.

She hurriedly lowered her hands, staring at the peach blossoms mixed with the white pear petals.

She flicked her sleeves and walked away.

"Go home."

The youth in black, carrying a dark sword, set down the small child he had been holding. He pointed toward the village ahead and spoke coldly. Unexpectedly, the child turned and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck and sobbing, "Thank you, brother."

The coldness in his eyes melted away slightly.

But just as he was about to raise his hand, he heard a rush of footsteps and shouts: "Let her go! You monster!"

His gaze darkened instantly. The child was violently snatched from his arms.

Then came a sharp pain in his shoulder. He fell into the mud, the murky water splashing onto his fair face, and the wound on his abdomen began to ache anew.

Seeing him fall, those people were frightened and scrambled back a few steps.

The youth’s lips were a vivid red, his eyes gloomy. He rose, looked at the mud on his clothes, and then at the mortals before him—panic-stricken yet still spewing arrogance. For a moment, he didn't even have the interest to kill them.

He raised his slender hand, and those people were terrified by his every movement.

They were horrified by the corpses lying in the blood behind the youth, and they feared that this incredibly handsome young man would be so decisive in his slaughter. But the youth only raised his hand, looking at the blood spreading across his slender fingers, stained with dirt.

He would have to change his clothes again.

He looked at them coldly.

Boring, he thought.

He turned and left.

The bodies lying in the pool of blood were those of corrupt officials. Those in brown clothes were slaves, bullied and abused; if they dared not strike for their own dignity, he would do it for them.

A light drizzle began to fall. In the darkness, he stood beneath a tree. Suddenly, a black shadow flickered, and two figures knelt behind him.

"Greetings, Master."

"How did it go?"

"Rest assured, Master, everything is prepared."

The youth frowned slightly, his hand gently stroking the wound on his abdomen. Nanshuang stepped forward. "Is your wound aching again, Master?"

How could a wound from the Profound Spirit Fire heal so quickly? Perhaps it would never heal.

Was his own heart not proof of that?

It would never heal.

His eyes were grim. "It is nothing."

He wondered, when the holy maiden finally appeared before him, how should he torment her? Or, upon seeing him in his current state, what expression would she wear?

"How is the progress on Jiang Ji’s side?"

"Everything is going smoothly."

Good. Very good. He would just wait for their noble High Goddess.

The youth appeared again in Lianchuan. His group marched majestically through the snow-white pear blossoms, trampling them into the mud. He wore his hair in a high ponytail and a silver half-mask, which obscured half his face. His dark, deep eyes were unfathomable.

He looked down at the surrounding pear trees. It was springtime once again.

"Who are you?!"

A group of people suddenly revealed their true forms. The youth no longer held the appearance of an Immortal Sect disciple; he was dressed in dark blue martial attire, gripping a sword with a moon-white tassel on the hilt.

His body radiated a deep, cold, and indifferent aura, and the silver mask exuded a chilling sensation.

Behind him stood countless figures in black, standing straight, each with a grim and terrifying expression.

"You will know soon enough," he said playfully, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.

At this moment, the crowd parted, and a man stepped out. Geyuan recognized him instantly: Qisui.