Chapter 20: Birth (Part 15)

Xu Qianyu was shocked by the horrifying scene and heard Songbai’s voice calling out “Xiao Dong.” It was almost unbelievable. His heart sank, and with a surge of strength, he broke through the pressure and stood up from the chair, eager to see the person lying on the ground for himself.

Shen Suwei tossed the mustard seed golden pearl, causing Songbai and the Xiao Dong on the ground to disappear together. The golden light surged like a wave, sweeping Xu Qianyu back behind the table.

But in the instant the golden pearl opened, a beam of golden light escaped, landing on the ground and transforming into a woman in white. The woman had damp hair, looked travel-worn, and knelt down crying, begging, “Please, immortal, spare him.”

“Please, spare his life, Xianjun. I beg you…”

Shen Suwei was somewhat surprised to see that the woman kneeling on the ground was indeed the true Lady Wang, Du Yueyin.

The space inside the mustard seed golden pearl resembled a sealed chamber, making it hard to discern the passage of time. If she hadn’t been observing his every move with powerful will and determination, how could she have seized the moment to escape the mustard seed golden pearl when the space opened?

Three beams of golden sword light shot out, and Wang Duan slowly slid down to the ground. The sword lights swirled like fish, connecting head to tail, and then coalesced into a golden shadow, which was gripped in Shen Suwei’s hand.

“I cannot let him go,” Shen Suwei said, looking down at Wang Duan entwined with black mist, and spoke calmly, “He has entered a nightmare.”

As a mortal, it was inevitable for him to feel anger, jealousy, hatred, and malice in certain situations. These emotions dispersed into the air, merging with spiritual power, rolling like a snowball until they took form and became demons.

The demon wandered aimlessly, lacking thought, only possessing evil intent, and it devoured living beings.

This was the external manifestation of humanity’s demon.

There was another type that rooted itself within a person, shadowing them. The more introspective and restrained a person was, the easier it was for inner demons to take hold, which was termed “entering a nightmare.”

Because the nightmare was the person, and the person was the nightmare—both were in the same body, making it difficult to distinguish. A person who had entered a nightmare could not be discerned by any magical tool; only experience could serve as a guide.

More than ten days ago, Shen Suwei had overheard a monk at Bailu Temple recounting Lady Wang’s prayers for blessings, which had left him somewhat doubtful. Seeing Wang Duan’s pale face led to further suspicion;

but when she transformed into Lady Wang and set up a magic array in the study to provoke him, he noticed the demon’s form subtly moving beneath his skin, and he became ninety percent certain.

Wang Duan had not suddenly fallen ill; rather, he had entered a nightmare since that time.

“A person in a nightmare finds it hard to resist the demon’s nature. He walks normally during the day, but at night, he cannot control himself. Before I came, the great demon of Nanling had devoured women and children, and he played a part in that. In the future, he will be completely consumed by the demon; there will be no more Wang Duan, only it will remain.”

This demon was cunning; it grew stronger by draining the life force of Wang Duan’s body, leaving him on the verge of death without breaking free. Instead, it used his body as a cover. When cultivators swept through the city, it would shrink away inside, using Wang Changshi’s identity to deceive Xu Jiansu.

Yet, Wang Duan had a bit of the spirit of a scholar, managing to resist for several dozen days and still clinging to a shred of consciousness.

Lady Wang lay on the ground, tears streaming down as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Finally, she understood why Wang Duan had changed so drastically since falling ill—sometimes irritable, sometimes oddly behaving, and constantly making things difficult for her, refusing to let her come close to care for him.

The demon controlled him; he could not reveal the truth and resorted to harsh words, desperately trying to push his wife away to avoid hurting her.

That pale figure in white remained silent for a moment, then desperately began to knock her head against the ground again.

Wang Duan looked at her, unable to bear it, and said, “Yueyin, just let it go.”

Though they were a young couple, their relationship had always been shallow. Du Yueyin was the girl next door, forced to marry him by his mother. She liked him, treated him well, and was more filial to his mother, so he accepted it.

This woman was weak and timid, and they had long ceased to have conversations. During their early marriage, she had even been too afraid to look at him. Yet now she dared to intrude into the mustard seed golden pearl and plead for him. She even dared to climb the mountain in the dead of night to pray for him while the demon wreaked havoc.

He knew she liked him, but he never expected her feelings could run this deep.

He had always been engrossed in his career and fame, never marrying a concubine, but he had rarely paid attention to her every word and deed. He treated her with courtesy, believing he had fulfilled his responsibilities. But now, as he clearly recognized the strange changes within him and saw his future collapse, he couldn’t help but start searching through the things Du Yueyin had given him, which he had carelessly set aside, as if grasping for a glimmer of life:

The shoe insoles she embroidered, the sweatbands, the buttons she sewed, the little clothes made for their unborn child.

Every stitch and thread was intricately woven with love. The fabric was soft, and the stitches delicate. As he touched them, a smile unconsciously crept onto his face.

How should he put it? During the time he was destined to lose her, he began to like her a little.

If given the chance, perhaps they could get to know each other anew and become a loving couple. But alas, time could not be turned back; there were no “what ifs” in this world.

His body had long been completely occupied, like an empty skin, with only this remnant of a soul left. The day the demon perished would also be the day he departed this world.

Shen Suwei remained silent, the tip of his sword hovering in the air.

They knew this was the last moment for the couple to speak. But Du Yueyin only continued to sob, while Wang Duan hesitated for a long moment, managing to say, “Yueyin, I’m sorry.”

Lady Wang had admired Wang Duan since she was young. He was a talented youth, sharp and intelligent. He always treated her with indifference and was rather aloof. However, he was not a bad person; after wandering around the splendid Chang’an, he had returned without bringing back any concubines, and she remained the only lady in the household.

She knew Wang Duan didn’t love her, but quietly accompanying him was enough to satisfy her. Under candlelight, she quietly embroidered, lifting her head to see him immersed in his books, and she could smile gently while snipping threads.

She had never dared to fantasize that Wang Duan loved her.

But now, Wang Duan loved her, yet he could only say two things.

One was “I’m sorry,” and the other was “Just let it go.”

Shen Suwei had always manipulated the sword shadows with spiritual power, but now he finally revealed the long sword, gripping it in his hand.

Xu Qianyu knew that the scene to come would be extremely horrifying, yet she kept her eyes wide open, staring straight ahead.

The sword tip pierced into Wang Duan’s body, slowly moving downward. Wang Duan shuddered, lowering his head as if understanding what Shen Suwei was about to do. He softly said “Thank you” to him, then gathered all his strength to tremble as he straightened his robes and closed his eyes, a hint of relief appearing on his face.

The blade of the long sword was sharp, like a scalpel, a fine needle weaving through the flesh with extreme calmness, as if it were not passing through blood and meat but painting an expressive scroll in the snow. His movements were remarkably swift, and in no time, the dark creature that had tormented Wang Duan for over a month was cleanly uprooted and cast aside. Golden light ignited from the sword’s tip, instantly incinerating it to ashes.

Only Wang Duan lay flat on the ground.

Shen Suwei slightly lowered his eyelids as he sheathed the sword. A layer of frost and snow formed on Wang Duan’s body and then “whooshed” away, taking all the bloodstains and wounds with it, leaving behind a clean and neat corpse.

“Take care of him.”

As he spoke, the white veil of the canopy fell, covering the corpse.

Shen Suwei walked into the inner room, released the power of the golden pearl, and pulled Xu Qianyu, who was standing at the desk, out the door.

Du Yueyin knelt on the ground, her heart twisted in pain, left only with silent tears.

Suddenly, a piece of paper fluttered down beside her. She picked it up and discovered it was a divorce letter. Beside Wang Duan’s name and seal, the ink of “Du Yueyin” was slowly erased by spiritual power, leaving behind a blank space.

On the divorce letter, ultimately only one person’s name remained.

If she did not wish it, this divorce letter could never take effect.

*

While walking, Xu Qianyu hurriedly asked, “Where is Xiao Dong?”

Shen Suwei replied, “Inside the mustard seed golden pearl, the spiritual power can temporarily seal her bloodline and wrap her wounds. Her life is not in danger.”

At that moment, the person beside him stopped, no matter how much he tried to pull, he could not move her. Shen Suwei paused and turned back to see Xu Qianyu shaking off his hand and looking up at him, her eyes, like glass beads, reflected a sense of vigilance: “Who are you?”

Shen Suwei looked at her and slowly said, “Penglai…”

Penglai.

Xu Qianyu saw with her own eyes that Lady Wang was disguised as a cultivator from the fairy gate. She was initially very surprised, and then an intense premonition arose in her heart. The arrival of this cultivator was like a sword that would shatter her current life, as if piercing through a fleeting and glorious dream.

Since that nightmare, the dream of the real world had been slowly breaking apart, and she was waking up.

But who was he?

Xu Qianyu feared he would utter the name “Shen Suwei.” Upon reflection, this person resembled her senior brother. But she remembered that her senior brother wielded a sword called “Cangque,” which was an iron sword, revealing a rusty blue color when drawn.

Her senior brother was originally a water spiritual root, but the more he practiced swordsmanship, the faster he became, and the colder the sword wind grew. He eventually transformed into frost control and then into the manipulation of ice and snow, until finally, he sealed the throat with a single sword strike, and no one dared to approach him without seeing Cangque. Thus, apart from her, few knew the true face of Cangque.

Cangque was really very ordinary.

He did not possess such a splendid sword as the golden-lighted dragon in his sleeve.

However, Shen Suwei did not reveal his name but simply said, “Let’s go back first.”

Xu Qianyu, concerned about Xiao Dong, did not wish to linger.

Xiao Dong was released from the mustard seed golden pearl, and the maids hurriedly lifted her onto the bed.

She was covered in blood when expelled by the demon, scaring the pine and cypress to the point of fainting. But when she came out, like Wang Duan, her bloodstains were cleared away by frost and snow. Apart from some abrasions and bruises on her face and hands, it did not appear that she had any serious injuries. However, she was unconscious, her complexion pale and her lips colorless due to blood loss.

Xu Qianyu stayed by the bed until the doctor rushed over at night to examine her eyes and pulse, boil water, and administer medicine.

Xiao Dong had a fractured finger, multiple abrasions, and was likely in shock. Although she had taken medicine, she remained trapped in a nightmare and did not wake up.

Xu Qianyu moved a chair to sit beside her bed, turning the flattened paper lantern that was splattered with blood in her hands, quietly watching.

She did not know what she was thinking.

Unknowingly, dawn broke, and the sun’s light began to fill the sky. The birds started chirping.

Suddenly, Shen Suwei said, “You go celebrate your birthday; I can watch her here.”

Only then did Xu Qianyu remember this matter, looking back at him in disbelief.

Celebrate her birthday? After such a night, what birthday was there to celebrate? How could she have the mood for it?

But a maid came in to convey a message:

“Sir asks the young lady to go to the flower hall.”

“Sir invites the immortal to celebrate the young lady’s birthday together.”

After speaking, the maid glanced at their faces, bowed, and left without waiting for a response, not allowing any arguments.

Shen Suwei was taken aback for a moment, then turned his back to adjust his clothes, proceeding as instructed.

The clear morning light enveloped the variety of delicacies spread across the eight-immortal table. The dishes, though exquisite, seemed a bit cold.

These twenty-four dishes had been prepared the previous night. Therefore, when the sir announced an early banquet, everything could be set on the table within a quarter of an hour. In the center of the eight-immortal table, a cluster of pink hydrangeas in bud and dew stood, with wine pots and cups placed below the flowers.

When Xu Qianyu arrived, she saw Guan Niang and Shui Rushan dressed in brand new clothes, carefully adorned. As soon as Guan Niang saw her, she smiled and congratulated her, nodding at Shen Suwei as well.

Xu Qianyu, as in every birthday, served wine to everyone, toasting Shui Rushan three cups. Guan Niang clasped her hands and smiled, “Congratulations, young lady! Today you are fourteen years old, and you are now a big girl.”

Guan Niang had specifically applied makeup today, her eyes sparkling with a smile, exuding a somewhat intoxicating charm, making Xu Qianyu glance at her a few more times. Guan Niang picked up a box from a nearby chair: “Young lady, this is a gift from me. Let’s see if you like it.”

Upon opening the lid, there were hairpins and a complete winter outfit. The dress was a fiery red woolen fabric, with the cape adorned with white snow wolf fur, like flames crashing into snow. As soon as Xu Qianyu saw it, she liked it so much that the gloomy expression she had carried from the previous night loosened a bit. Looking at the dress, she couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Guan Niang saw her smile and immediately laughed: “This is a riding outfit. If you get a chance in the future, wear it while riding, it will look splendid.”

Xu Qianyu, however, withdrew her smile and closed the box: “Thank you, Guan Niang.”

Shui Rushan also presented a box: “This is a birthday gift from your grandfather; open it and take a look.”

The wooden box was wide yet narrow, somewhat heavy. Xu Qianyu could not lift it with one hand, so she placed it on the table. The wooden box slowly opened, revealing something familiar to Xu Qianyu.

It was indeed the sword hanging in her grandfather’s study.

Xu Qianyu felt a sinking sensation in her heart. Before she could speak, Shen Suwei’s gaze swept over, and his expression changed. Shui Rushan set down his wine cup and looked at him, abruptly shifting the tone of the conversation, the atmosphere suddenly charged with tension: “The Immortal Lord has traveled from afar; why hide your identity? Isn’t it time to reveal your true self?”

However, Shen Suwei did not take the bait. Instead, he said, “Let’s finish celebrating the birthday first.”

He even pulled a box from his sleeve and handed it to Xu Qianyu.

Xu Qianyu glanced at him with confusion.

He placed the box on the table. “A gift for you.”

Xu Qianyu didn’t even look at it, pushing the box aside as she quietly picked up a pair of chopsticks to eat amidst the silent, oppressive atmosphere.

Suddenly, a fragment of a hazy memory surged in her mind, perhaps from a previous life: Xu Binglai had descended from the heavens like a banished immortal, saying just a couple of words before pulling her up. That day, a table of delicacies was set before her, just as it was now, only she had taken a single bite.

It was her ninth birthday. She had been so shocked that she cried aloud, and Shui Rushan had angrily said, “Can’t you let the child finish her birthday?”

Xu Binglai had lowered his gaze and said, “I apologize.” Yet there was no sign of remorse on his face, and he hadn’t let go of her hand.

Now the situation was reversed, but it felt much the same.

Heaven seemed to be in opposition to her birthday.

“Isn’t this annoying?” Xu Qianyu suddenly slammed her chopsticks down, scolding, “What kind of game is this? The meal is eaten, the wine is drunk, and the birthday is celebrated. Now speak.”

Her outburst startled everyone, and the room fell silent.

The previously tense atmosphere was suddenly shattered, letting in a breath of fresh air.

Xu Qianyu turned to Shen Suwei and ordered, “You speak first.”

This was the first time Shen Suwei had been compelled to draw his sword. He grasped his wine cup, pondering for a moment, then still respectfully addressed Shui Rushan: “Since the senior knows my intention, please advise the young lady.”

However, Shui Rushan only smiled: “You haven’t even asked if I’m willing.”

Before he finished speaking, Shen Suwei suddenly realized that the arrangement of the hall, the columns, and the decorations had a hidden significance: layer upon layer, reality and illusion intertwined, forming a trap-like formation, with his seat placed right at the center of it.

Detecting the killing intent in Shui Rushan’s words, Shen Suwei instinctively felt a surge of sword energy, which instantly shattered the window, and a whirlwind swept through the room. The paintings on the walls and the jade chopsticks on the table turned into lethal arrows, whistling toward him.

Shen Suwei’s figure flashed as he leaped ten steps away, but the rain of arrows seemed to have eyes, bending around to relentlessly pursue him.

A flash of golden light flickered from his sleeve, and Shen Suwei drew his sword, its radiance bursting forth, blasting the external objects apart. However, instead of scattering everywhere, the jade arrows were controlled, suspended in mid-air, hovering menacingly.

The only thing that scattered was a cluster of hydrangeas, their petals and leaves falling like rain, rolling onto his white robe.

With the transformation dissipated, the radiance gradually faded, revealing his true appearance.

He wore a jade crown and had his hair tied back, his hair as black as ink, his pupils similarly dark, but his lips bore a faint rosy hue. His face resembled that of an ice-cold beauty, yet devoid of expression, and with his sword in hand, he looked like a sword puppet amidst a killing array, instilling fear in those who beheld him.

As the brilliance waned, he gently stepped down, lowering his gaze: “I am Shen Suwei, a disciple of the inner sect of the Penglai Immortal Gate, sent by my master to bring Qianyu back to the sect.”

The overlapping scrolls, the shaking vases, the jade arrows jingling together in mid-air—all returned to their places with the wind and waves calming down.

In this festive setting, he harbored no intention of destruction.

“Good.” Shui Rushan unexpectedly praised him, “You have manners. You are truly not like those spoiled and rotten things from the Xu family.”

But he added, “However, if you want to take my granddaughter away, if she is unwilling, I will risk my life to prevent you from doing so.”