Chapter 4
The moon hung low in the western sky.
At Falling Moon Peak, countless mountain ridges brimmed with dense spiritual energy. As night fell, clouds and mist swirled atop the summits, shrouding the moonlight within layers of clouds, leaving the night perpetually moonless for thousands of years—hence the name "Falling Moon."
The only place where moonlight could be seen was the Frost Burial Sea, floating above the clouds.
At the entrance of the Frost Sea, on a towering pine tree, hung a dark-colored soul bell.
Beneath the pine, a man dressed in a vermilion robe and wearing a jade crown stood. He lightly tapped the soul bell with his fingertip, a bell linked to Xie Zhefeng’s divine consciousness.
The bell swayed but emitted no sound.
It was only when Xie Zhefeng descended from the air, holding Kun Kun, that the silence was broken.
The man in the vermilion robe didn’t even turn his head; he continued tapping the bell one stroke at a time and said, “The Immortal Lord has quite the refined taste. The person isn’t even in the cave dwelling, yet the soul bell meant to welcome guests still hangs at the entrance. I’ve been tapping it for who knows how long—does the Immortal Lord’s divine soul not find it tiresome?”
Xie Zhefeng walked past him and gently set Kun Kun down.
Kun Kun seemed to dislike the man, glancing disdainfully at him before darting into the pine forest with a swift “whoosh,” vanishing without a trace.
Only then did Xie Zhefeng reply indifferently, “This soul bell only recognizes souls with the branded imprint. You cannot ring it.”
The man muttered, “...So all that tapping was for nothing? Then who is this bell meant for—”
He stopped abruptly.
The patterns on the bell were extraordinarily faded and worn, having hung here for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years.
A millennium ago...
He murmured, “This is a soul bell branded by An Wuxue?”
He froze, the mocking expression wiped clean from his face. He raised his hand to touch the bell again.
But before his fingertip could make contact, a thick layer of frost suddenly encased his hand, freezing it in place!
The frost was charged with the immortal’s spiritual power, fierce and unrelenting. Startled, he quickly withdrew his hand and mustered all his spiritual energy to dispel the cold.
He looked at Xie Zhefeng with a heavy expression, but Xie Zhefeng stood silently, expressionless.
The man blurted out, “The only person who could ring this soul bell is no longer here. Immortal Lord, why put on such a show?”
Xie Zhefeng’s gaze darkened, carrying a hint of killing intent.
The man’s voice faltered, realizing he was no match for Xie Zhefeng. He took a deep breath and changed the subject, “Getting back to the point—your message today, is it related to the Demon Blade incident from the day? I’ve already inquired about it when I arrived. I heard someone brought a tainted Demon Blade into the sect, causing severe injury to most of the disciples?”
Xie Zhefeng nodded slightly. “The Demon Blade originates from a secret realm, one riddled with taint.”
“Another mysterious tainted place? You want me to investigate the source of the taint on the Demon Blade? How strange—over the years, whenever anything involving divine souls or taint comes up, you handle it personally. Why hand this off to me now?”
“Won’t you investigate?”
“...” The man gritted his teeth. “I never said no. The source of the taint may be connected to the truth of that time. If you care, do I not care? Fine, I’ll take it on. But the Demon Blade acting up is a minor issue; it shouldn’t be enough reason to seal the mountain gate. What happened within Falling Moon Peak that you used as an excuse to close the gates?”
Xie Zhefeng spoke deliberately, “A soul-leaving intruder has infiltrated the sect.”
A “soul-leaving” being—one whose soul and body fail to unite—usually a usurper or a puppet.
As the greatest sect in the cultivation world, Falling Moon Peak maintained strict security. Every cultivator entering or leaving was accounted for. What kind of usurper or puppet could slip past Xie Zhefeng, the only present-day Ascension Realm master, unnoticed?
There must be something amiss.
“Have you identified who it is?”
“Using soul-searching methods harms the natural order.”
“So you want me, an outsider, to investigate the Demon Blade’s secret realm so you can stay behind and hunt the soul-leaver?”
“...”
“In a few days, it’ll be your annual journey to Thorn River. If you stay behind at Falling Moon, will you still go to Thorn River?”
Xie Zhefeng simply said, “Qi Xun, it’s time for you to leave.”
---
Qi Xun held back his frustration.
When An Wuxue fell, heavily tainted by the corrupt energy, it was a matter deeply tied to him. He could not afford to be careless.
After gathering some information about the Demon Blade and the taint, he left swiftly for the secret realm.
Once Qi Xun departed, the Frost Burial Sea, already deserted, fell silent once more.
Throughout the conversation, Xie Zhefeng’s expression remained grave. When no one else was around, he seemed to suddenly exhale, his gaze fixed on the soul bell, black eyes revealing a trace of sorrow.
He stepped forward slowly, lifted his hand, and gently touched the bell, tapping it lightly with his spiritual energy.
No sound came.
As always.
The bell hung before the Frost Sea’s gate, bathed in millennia of returning snow and drifting winds, never once ringing.
—
An Wuxue knew he was dreaming.
He dreamed of the time when he and Xie Zhefeng were still at the Lesser Accomplishment stage.
Together, they had been sent by their master to the mortal world to exterminate demons, venturing into an unnamed mountain shrouded in taint.
It was a memory from his youth, a past life he had long since let go and rarely recalled deliberately.
Only in uncontrollable dreams did Xie Zhefeng’s figure appear unbidden before him.
He resisted this dream fiercely.
With his divine consciousness cultivation, breaking free from shallow dreams should have been effortless. Yet this time, he struggled in vain.
He was forced to drift along with the dream’s flow.
At that time, their cultivation levels were low; after fasting, cultivators reached the Lesser Accomplishment stage, not yet masters.
They couldn’t find the root of the taint and had been locked in combat with demon cultivators in the mountains for days, evenly matched.
The mountain was permeated with taint. To conserve spiritual power, he and Xie Zhefeng huddled together in a cramped cave, using spiritual energy to activate their magical instruments, erecting a fragile barrier.
The cave was narrow, the barrier thin, and they sat almost pressed against each other.
So close, An Wuxue could hear Xie Zhefeng’s breathing clearly and sensed the faint chill radiating from him. The cold made him instinctively want to get closer, to offer some warmth.
—What was he thinking?
That was his junior brother.
He hastily shook his head.
But Xie Zhefeng noticed the movement and turned to look at him with concern. “Senior Brother, what’s wrong?”
“...Nothing much,” An Wuxue whispered, but his hoarse voice betrayed his condition.
Stop staring at him like that.
He awkwardly averted his gaze.
“Your complexion seems strange,” Xie Zhefeng said, eyes fixed on him, raising a hand. “You seem a bit warm.”
The slender hand touched his face.
Xie Zhefeng’s spiritual power was bone-chilling cold; his perpetually cool hand pressed against the flush of An Wuxue’s cheek, while the other hand supported his arm.
Heat and cold collided.
An Wuxue was jolted awake from the dream.
He snapped his eyes open, breathing heavily several times.
...Why had he dreamed of that memory?
---
Yun Zhou and Yun Yao had gone to inquire when the mountain gate closure would be lifted, so he sat on a branch, blowing the breeze and waiting.
He even fell asleep waiting; Yun Zhou and Yun Yao had not yet returned.
The clouds in the distant sky tinged with faint red as the sun set in the west. The cry of a crane pierced the air, accompanied by the rustling of leaves.
Another gentle breeze passed.
An Wuxue shivered, realizing his body was indeed feverish.
Especially his left forearm.
He rolled up his sleeve and saw the rune on his left forearm faintly glowing red. A warm current flowed from the rune through his body, making him feel flushed.
It was the Furnace Seal.
The Furnace Seal carried Xie Zhefeng’s aura. If not partnered in dual cultivation with the seal’s owner for a prolonged period, it would increasingly stir desire until it became uncontrollable.
If he had left Falling Moon Peak days ago, he could have acted freely, even using some spells from his past life to suppress it.
But now, with the mountain gate sealed tight, he couldn’t leave or act rashly.
Misfortune after misfortune.
In his past life, he was clearly loyal to Xie Zhefeng, yet now he couldn’t sever the connection no matter how hard he tried.
He deserved it.
“Hey, Su Xue! We’re back!” came Yun Zhou’s voice.
The Furnace Seal still stirred unrest within him. Closing his eyes, he saw the dream’s images again. Hastily, he recited several calming incantations before turning his head to see Yun Zhou and Yun Yao approaching side by side.
Yun Yao stopped beneath the tree, looking up with a puzzled expression. “Young Master Su, your face is so red. Have you caught a chill?”
“No...” He summoned spiritual energy to quell the heat, banishing distractions until the warmth on his cheeks eased. “Maybe I just slept funny... Has the mountain gate closure been lifted?”
“I went with my junior brother to check; the gates remain closed.”
Three or four days, and still closed?
An Wuxue frowned, blurting out, “Such a minor matter doesn’t warrant sealing the mountain for so long.”
Yun Zhou snorted, “Minor? You came from the mortal world; you don’t know what taint means for cultivators.”
Yun Yao listened silently, then spoke solemnly, “Young Master Su might not realize it, but taint damages a cultivator’s Dao heart. Since the era of the Celestial Calamity, it has been a danger to both realms. Once a cultivator is tainted and falls into demonic corruption, most cannot return. Those corrupted are executed without hesitation.”
An Wuxue knew this only too well.
Precisely because he knew, he sensed something was amiss.
“Did they say when the closure might be lifted?”
Yun Zhou shook his head, “Waiting for the Immortal Lord’s decree.”
This was bad.
He had once acted as temporary sect leader during Falling Moon Peak’s most tumultuous times. Many of Xie Zhefeng’s methods were taught by him.
In this situation, the Demon Blade was just an excuse; the real problem lay within the sect. Xie Zhefeng needed a thorough investigation of his disciples...
Others might remain unafraid with a clear conscience, but not him—he felt guilty.
He could not passively wait for disaster.
The intervals between the Furnace Seal’s activations were growing shorter.
If this continued, was he really going to have to dual cultivate with Xie Zhefeng?
“...Besides, the Immortal Lord is not at Falling Moon Peak today. The gatekeepers said the Immortal Lord leaves every year at this time for at least three days, so the closure will last until his return.”
Yun Zhou seemed unaware that An Wuxue had drifted off, continuing, “You just want to buy some things in the mortal world, right? What’s the rush? Let the mountain be sealed if it must be...”