Chapter 40 Part 1

Qi Ji followed Tao Junran out of the Jiang residence. It wasn’t until they were seated in the car that she withdrew a Law Edict and, studying the faint red line upon its surface, her brows furrowed tightly. To say Tushan Yi was completely innocent would be wrong, but to claim she bore monstrous sins was equally unreasonable. The “sin” from a thousand years ago had grown fainter as the obsession within Head Hill Cave dispersed. The Tushan Yi of now truly seemed to be nothing more than an envoy from Azure Hill.

Qi Ji turned her head to look at the ever-composed Tao Junran and asked, “Alchemist, must we truly go to the Wang family to retrieve the item for her?”

Tao Junran’s eyelids drooped as he countered, “If we do not act, what are the odds she’ll go herself?” A moment later, he exhaled a breath of Miasma and sighed wistfully. “Azure Hill… It is said that’s where the Yellow Emperor slew Chiyou. We must understand the reason for Azure Hill’s emergence into the world. The Mountains and Seas are reviving, and spiritual energy particles grow more active by the day. Who knows if that’s a blessing or a curse?”

Qi Ji asked with worry, “Could Chiyou be resurrected?”

Tao Junran glanced sideways at her and replied unhurriedly, “That’s uncertain, but the return of savage beasts like the Four Evils is an inevitability.”

The Revival of Mountains and Seas Realm carried another meaning—the revival of myths. In High Antiquity, the Divine Land had gods. Initially, the gods and Ancestral People lived in harmony, and the Heavenly Emperor was also the Human King. But after Emperor Zhuanxu “ordered Chong to lift up Heaven and Li to press down Earth,” humanity and gods were separated, each with their own order. The Human Kings of later ages were merely Human Kings. The rift between humans, gods, and the Mountains and Seas gradually widened. From Emperor Yao ordering Dayi to shoot the suns, to Emperor Shun exiling the Four Evils, and finally, King Yu controlling the waters and suppressing the Mountains and Seas, the Human Realm was separated. After long millennia, what remained in the Mountains and Seas besides fury and hatred?

“Troublesome,” Qi Ji muttered. Although cultivation speed in recent years could be called meteoric, holding the hope of proving the Dao, it meant responsibility would rise accordingly. After thinking for a moment, she added, “The Dragon Veins in Shen City and Jiang City have both stirred. We must repair the damage.” The harm to a Dragon Vein was irreversible; all they could do was minimize the losses. “That Evil Daoist was truly insane. Pity his corpse was completely destroyed—we can’t track him any further.” Qi Ji cursed again.

It was now known that a single person was behind both the Jiang City and Shen City incidents, but his identity remained a complete mystery. A Dragon Vein represented the fate of the Divine Land—would a cultivator of Shenzhou try to sever it? “Could it be a foreign power?” Qi Ji’s mind stirred, forming a guess.

Tao Junran didn’t respond. He stroked his beard and leaned back against the seat, calm and steady.

The car sped along the road, the trees lining the street flashing past in gray-green blurs. Crisp, melodious birdsong drifted in during the gaps between car horns, and Qi Ji’s restless heart gradually settled.

The matter was far from over. They still had to visit the Wang family.

–

Jiang Residence.

Tushan Yi sat cross-legged on the sofa. Perhaps embracing the idea of “When in Rome,” she’d swapped her elaborate court attire for a red-and-white hoodie. The bone-deep allure was gone, replaced by a certain heroic spirit—a stark contrast to the fox seen in the cave or the illusion.

“Little sister, you’ve been sneaking peeks at me for a while,” Tushan Yi said to Jiang Yiguang with a smile, resting her chin on her hand. “Do you still have questions?”

Caught out, Jiang Yiguang’s face flushed crimson. She did have questions, but they were trivial, personal matters: How did Tushan Yi survive without her Inner Core? Why didn’t she ask to see Xie Chaoyun? But if the “Azure Hill” matter had no answers, these personal questions were even less likely to get one.

Fu Juan had been utterly silent since returning to the Jiang residence, her presence almost nonexistent. Now she was brewing tea. At Tushan Yi’s words, she merely glanced coolly at Jiang Yiguang and pushed a teacup toward her. As for Tushan Yi, an assortment of beverages pulled from the fridge littered the space before her.

Tushan Yi stopped teasing Jiang Yiguang and turned to the quiet Fu Juan, feigning astonishment. “Brewing tea with Dragon Vein Quintessence? How extravagant.”

Fu Juan met her gaze, calm. “I didn’t use it to wash the rice, so it’s hardly extravagant.”

Jiang Yiguang couldn’t help a “pfft” of laughter. She glanced at Fu Juan with surprise in her eyes. She’d never realized Fu Juan had a talent for deadpan humor. As for Dragon Vein tea—she curiously lifted the cup and took a sip. A chill entered her body, but it quickly transformed into a warm current flowing through her limbs and bones. It was a bit “astringent,” but not undrinkable.

“Your legs have been invaded by Ghost-Fire Baleful Qi? Does the Human Realm have no way to solve this anymore?” Tushan Yi raised an eyebrow, smiling. “But when the Mountains and Seas revive, divine herbs and spirit plants will be everywhere. Standing up again won’t be an issue.”

“Are the abundant spirit medicines of the Mountains and Seas the reason you dwell here?” Fu Juan asked, her gaze cold and clear as moonlit water.

That past was ultimately a scar on Tushan Yi’s heart. Her expression chilled, and a tension, like drawn swords, filled the living room. After a moment, Tushan Yi laughed softly. She opened a bottle of Happy Water with a snap, tossed the deformed cap into the trash, and replied lazily, “Yes. Are you envious?”

When she’d left Azure Hill, she’d carried pills refined by the Old Ancestor. It was that divinity-infused medicine that had sustained her form for a millennium. But to return to her original state, she needed her Inner Core back. Yet the Wang family—the family that had kept it for a thousand years—would they be willing to return it? A dark gleam flickered in Tushan Yi’s eyes.

“I am,” Fu Juan said, her tone calm and frank. If such miraculous medicine truly existed, her parents wouldn’t have died, and she wouldn’t be like this. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair. She could manage now with Daoist arts, but what about when her youth faded and her spirit waned? She had to admit, she would find it hard to accept such helplessness.

Tushan Yi blinked, then laughed out loud with delight. It took her a while to stop. She wiped a tear from her eye with her thumb and praised, “Very honest.” A moment later, she turned to Jiang Yiguang, who was doing her best imitation of a statue, and tossed out, “Are you wondering why I haven’t asked to see Xie Chaoyun?”

Jiang Yiguang was surprised, but since her thought had been pointed out, she didn’t hide it. “Yes.” She paused, then added, “If you find it offensive, you don’t need to answer.”

Tushan Yi smiled. “It’s simple. The obsession is gone; that stretch of road has reached its end. Whether she lives or dies, is human or ghost, has nothing to do with me.” Their clan, when their divinity hadn’t faded, was actually quite free-spirited. How else could they face the storms of separation? She’d been young back then, and after losing her true self in the rift between realms, she’d been bound by a mere mortal. Her love and hate had become hysterical—but how could that be the real her? She was the proud Azure Hill Divine Maiden.

Jiang Yiguang said, “But from what I see, that person hasn’t let go.”

Tushan Yi replied, “Her not letting go has nothing to do with me. If there’s no fate, there’s no need to force it. People live for themselves. Worrying too much for others only brings misery.”

Jiang Yiguang looked thoughtful, and after a moment, she nodded firmly. “Right!” Hadn’t she been diligently doing her main quest precisely for herself? “I’ve had an epiphany.”

“What did you realize?” Tushan Yi asked, amused.

“The first step in cultivating the sword—cut down the one in your heart,” Jiang Yiguang answered. Fate demanded Fu Juan sever all emotions, and she herself was just a “sacrificial pawn,” forced onto the track of a love-driven madness. But what if she, too, could sever those emotions? Now that she was awake, she shouldn’t be entranced by Fu Juan. She shouldn’t lose herself for anyone.

“Good that you understand.” Tushan Yi smiled, pointing at the Happy Water. “Buy more of this in the future.”

Her topic shifted so abruptly that Jiang Yiguang just said “Ah?” and nodded subconsciously. But she quickly realized—if Tushan Yi kept living at the Jiang residence, wouldn’t she have to support her? But the Azure Hill matter wasn’t the Jiang family’s business. Wouldn’t she be losing money? “Fu Juan,” Jiang Yiguang said, enunciating clearly.

“Hm?” Fu Juan turned her head, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

Jiang Yiguang’s eyes sparkled. “Does the Xuanzhen Dao Court have funds?” It wasn’t that she wanted to be a miser, but the situation itself was unreasonable. She didn’t have the heart of a bodhisattva, so naturally, she wasn’t willing to be a benefactor for nothing.

Fu Juan considered for a moment and answered, “I’ll apply for reimbursement for you.” She didn’t like dealing with the Dao Court people. Those old friends of her father always brought up the past, then their pitying gazes would sweep over her legs, as if she’d failed everyone’s expectations and was doomed to this life. Sympathy? Pity? Regret? She needed none of it.

Jiang Yiguang raised an eyebrow, her face breaking into a smile. “Thank you.” With the problem solved, her tone was unusually gentle—no forced smile, no obsessive, sickly infatuation. It was as if speaking to an old friend, calm and detached.

“You’re welcome.” Fu Juan gazed steadily at Jiang Yiguang, her voice light. “It’s what I should do.”

Xuanzhen Dao Court.

Qi Ji and her group would have preferred to bring Tushan Yi back to the Dao Court. Her origins were far from simple, and such a figure was best kept under constant watch. But Tushan Yi refused. She insisted on staying at the Jiang residence, though no one knew what she saw in it. If Jiang Li were still there, no one would worry, but the Jiang family only had Jiang Yiguang, a young person who didn’t know much. After much deliberation, the Dao Court could only dispatch disciples to patrol outside the Jiang Residence at all times, to prevent being caught off guard.