Chapter 64
Ming Jian Su’s sense of foreboding was confirmed by the subsequent images.
Just as Suxin Jianzhu’s public persona, constructed by the immortals of the Immortal Realm, was vastly different from her true self, the Phoenix Sovereign also possessed a temperament that contradicted the rumors. Perhaps everyone had multiple facets, and those hidden sides were only revealed under specific circumstances. As she journeyed through Suxin’s memories, Ming Jian Su occasionally saw glimpses of her junior sister in the Phoenix Sovereign’s image.
Suxin clearly lacked talent in alchemy. Even the elixirs from the Supreme Palace contained traces of poison, let alone those concoctions she had brewed. Unsurprisingly, the bottle of elixirs purchased by Feng Zun, disguised as a fluffy creature, contained even more potent poison. This had been the catalyst for their acquaintance. Feng Zun hadn’t spoken ill of Suxin but had directly pointed out the elixir’s flaws. Suxin, enraged, had drawn her sword. They had fought fiercely, and after their exhilarating battle, Suxin, humbled, had asked for guidance in alchemy.
Apparently, even Feng Zun hadn’t mastered the art of alchemy at that time. She had simply given Suxin a cold, disdainful look and said, “The fire’s not right,” then vanished. Taking her words to heart, Suxin had searched for a suitable alchemical flame, then, using the new fire, had crafted new elixirs, patiently waiting for the phoenix to return and judge them.
Feng Zun had indeed returned, once again pointing out the flaws in her elixirs. They had then agreed on a time for their next meeting. Their interactions continued in this manner. Sometimes, Feng Zun would arrive on time, but more often than not, she would be late or simply not appear. Suxin hadn’t inquired. At first, she hadn’t minded, considering it a trivial matter. But gradually, this minor annoyance grew, becoming impossible to ignore. A new item appeared on her schedule: waiting for a phoenix on a mountaintop.
The phoenix perched on the parasol tree, so she had collected rare trees and planted them outside her cave.
Their interactions continued for many years, peaceful and harmonious, with occasional arguments. But their most heated clash had occurred on the eve of the war between gods and demons. By then, Suxin had already learned about Feng Zun’s true identity. As a carefree wandering immortal, she couldn’t understand why Feng Zun was so involved in the affairs of the feathered lineages. Those feathered immortals, under her protection, had become entitled and would never grow. Like their previous arguments, they had parted ways on bad terms. Suxin, enraged, had sealed her cave and entered seclusion. But before doing so, she had devoured all the spiritual fruits Feng Zun had sent her.
Ming Jian Su could sense her anger, but she knew that was their last meeting, and a deep sadness filled her heart.
She didn’t recognize those fruits, but knowing Feng Zun’s character, they were definitely not ordinary. She watched as Suxin entered a meditative state, feeling herself drawn into a profound and mysterious world. When she finally opened her eyes, over two hundred years had passed.
The war between gods and demons was over, and the Fall of the Phoenix had become a taboo subject in the Immortal Realm, but traces of it still lingered.
Upon learning the truth, Suxin Jianzhu was filled with grief and rage. The mournful hum of her swords echoed through the mountains, their points aimed at Kunlun Mountain.
But she knew better. If she attacked Kunlun Mountain directly, she would achieve nothing.
Consumed by hatred, she had descended to the Demon Abyss alone, found Tu Shan Liusu, and conspired with her to kill Ming Ji.
Having seen both Feng Zun’s and Suxin’s memories, Ming Jian Su finally understood the full picture of that bloody conflict in the Demon Realm nearly a thousand years ago.
The vengeful sword beams had swept through the Abyss, leaving a river of blood in their wake.
Later, Suxin had returned to the Immortal Realm, hidden Feng Zun in the Abyss of the Milky Way, allowing her to undergo Nirvana amidst the primordial energy. She had also visited Chongxuan Mountain, leaving the Zhenyu Sword there to suppress the Red Agate. Ming Jian Su hadn’t understood why at first, why she hadn’t simply extracted the entire vein, but after Suxin returned to the Demon Abyss and met Tu Shan Liusu, who had become the new Demon Sovereign, she finally understood. Suxin’s time was running out.
“My Dao body is incomplete. I need to descend to the mortal world, undergo tribulation, and ascend once more to achieve completion,” Suxin had said.
“Although I cultivate the sword, it’s not my true weapon. The Endless Sword Case is. It cannot remain in the Immortal Realm.”
“Eternal Sword to slay Ming Ji, Zhenyu Sword to guard Chongxuan Mountain, Reincarnation to enter the Minor Realm. Most of my swords are scattered. I’ll return one day to reclaim them. But this Selfless Sword, it contains all my past. I’ll leave it with you for now. When the time is right, please deliver it to my reincarnation.”
…
Her voice had become faint, only the words “reincarnation” echoing in Ming Jian Su’s mind like a hammer blow, shaking her very soul. Her vision blurred, the past and present merging, swirling around her, pulling her consciousness into a vortex.
In the Dharma Hall.
Feng Chiyue, casually refining elixirs, suddenly sensed Ming Jian Su’s distress. She abandoned the furnace and rushed to her side, her finger pressing against her forehead.
A sliver of her consciousness entered Ming Jian Su’s Sea of Consciousness, instantly shattered by the raging storm within. She gasped, her gaze falling on the trembling sword.
She frowned, no longer daring to act rashly. She simply stared at Ming Jian Su, patiently waiting for the storm to subside.
The past and present, both long and fleeting, merged, the true self sealed within the sword awakening. Ming Jian Su’s aura surged, activating the formations and talismans within the hall, their golden light blazing like an exploding sun.
The ground shook, and the hall seemed about to collapse.
Zhu Wan, alarmed by the commotion, rushed over, assuming something had happened. However, before she could get close, she was flung back by an invisible force. Feng Chiyue’s cold voice rang out. “Stay away.”
She scrambled to her feet and fled, but glancing back at the hall, now enveloped in golden light, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry.
The commotion on Morning Phoenix Mountain was significant. Que Chenyi and Qing Xun, working in the Celestial Feather Ministry, were alerted and rushed over, abandoning their tasks.
On nearby mountains, immortals peered curiously, whispering among themselves. They had heard that Ming Jian Su had been injured in the Demon Abyss. Was this her final burst of energy before her demise? If she died, would the turmoil in the Immortal Realm finally cease?
In the Celestial Pivot Department.
Yunze Young Lord was writing a report to the Heavenly Emperor.
An official rushed in, reporting the strange events on Morning Phoenix Mountain.
He was startled, his eyes widening. He had been about to crumple the paper in his hands, but then he remembered his own destroyed abode, and he slowly suppressed his excitement. When Ming Jian Su had “disappeared,” Feng Chiyue had wreaked havoc in the Immortal Realm. If Ming Jian Su truly perished, he couldn’t imagine how wonderful it would be.
The shock Feng Chiyue had given him not long ago was still fresh in his mind.
He took a deep breath and, casting a few spells on the letter, sent it towards the Purple Empyrean Palace on Kunlun Mountain.
The Heavenly Emperor had also seen the news of Ming Jian Su’s impending death on the Chaos Mirror. He didn’t fully believe it, but the mere possibility brought a smile to his face. He received the letter bearing the Celestial Pivot Department’s seal, expecting confirmation, but instead, he saw the words “Ming Jian Su is innocent. She did not collude with the Demon Abyss.” He frowned, his displeasure towards Yunze Young Lord growing. He had already prepared “witnesses.” If the Celestial Pivot Department didn’t interrogate her, it would all be for naught. Perhaps they were afraid of her power. He would wait. Once she was dead, everyone would turn against her. He suppressed his annoyance.
Rumors spread quickly on the Chaos Mirror, and soon, news of Ming Jian Su’s impending death reached every corner of the Immortal Realm.
In the East Sea.
Chu Yi, upon hearing about Yu Gao’s death and Chang Li’s imprisonment in the Demon Abyss, had shown no restraint, clapping her hands in delight right in front of Ying Cunxin. Her hatred for them was deeply rooted. As for the Immortal Realm’s safety, she didn’t care.
But upon seeing the news about Ming Jian Su, her smile vanished.
“Come with me to Dong’e… Morning Phoenix Mountain,” she said, turning to Ying Cunxin.
Ying Cunxin withdrew her consciousness from the Chaos Mirror and pursed her lips, remaining silent.
Chu Yi had been tasked with overseeing the Four Seas Department reforms, but the Four Seas were vast. Why was she still in the East Sea? And why was she dragging her along everywhere? She had merely praised a few skilled immortals on the Chaos Mirror, and Chu Yi had responded with sarcasm. Ying Cunxin was annoyed, but a strange feeling prevented her from sending Chu Yi away.
Chu Yi’s gaze was intense, impossible to ignore. She didn’t want to move and offered a casual excuse. “I’m not acquainted with those two Fellow Daoists.”
Chu Yi scoffed. “Aren’t they your advisors?”
Ying Cunxin: “…” How did she even know that? Had Feng Chiyue betrayed her? How could she be so disloyal? She didn’t argue but changed the subject. “There are many baseless rumors on the Chaos Mirror. How could Ming Jian Su possibly die?”
“That place is deep within the Demon Abyss, the former prison of the Phoenix Sovereign,” Chu Yi said seriously. “She failed to retrieve the Minor Realm’s nascent Heavenly Dao and was dismissed by the Emperor upon her return. As for her injuries, she’s the one who spread that rumor.”
“It’s precisely because she said it herself that we shouldn’t believe it,” Ying Cunxin said. Did they really think it was safe to pry into Ming Jian Su and Feng Chiyue’s affairs? Curiosity killed the cat. She paused, then added, “But you’re different. You’re the Heavenly Princess. It’s perfectly appropriate for you to pay a visit.”
Chu Yi didn’t waste any more words. She attacked Ying Cunxin. After all, they were in the Crystal Palace. Even if she destroyed Ying Cunxin’s chambers, the Dragon Lord wouldn’t say anything.
During their sparring sessions in the Ethereal Spirit Realm, Ying Cunxin, following Feng Chiyue’s advice, had found Chu Yi’s weaknesses and had won a few times. Later, she had grown tired of their interactions and, indulging her laziness, had stopped practicing. But Chu Yi was different. She spent most of her free time cultivating. Knowing her weaknesses, she had diligently worked to improve. Her cultivation had already been higher than Ying Cunxin’s, and now, it was even more so. She didn’t take Ying Cunxin’s pearl ornament but, after capturing her, cast a spell, forcing her to transform into her dragon form.
The small, white dragon, about two feet long, coiled around Chu Yi’s wrist, glaring at her angrily.
Chu Yi was pleased. She stroked the dragon’s cool scales. “The West Sea Dragon Princess taught me that,” she said. “If you have any complaints, go find her.”
Ying Cunxin: “…”
By the time Chu Yi arrived at Morning Phoenix Mountain with Ying Cunxin in tow, there were already many others present.
Not only those from the Celestial Feather Ministry and Polaris Mountain, but even Phoenix Mountain had sent Feng Yao to investigate.
“Is Feng Chiyue still inside?” Chu Yi asked Zhu Wan, whose face was pale with worry.
Zhu Wan nodded.
“How is Ming Jian Su?”
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. The Chaos Mirror claimed that her Master was injured, but she, living on the mountain, knew the truth. She wondered who would be the unlucky one this time. Would her workload increase? She glanced at Que Chenyi with sympathy and sighed.
Her sigh was filled with resignation, not sadness.
A chill ran down Que Chenyi’s spine. She had a bad feeling about this.
If it weren’t for the crowd, she would have dragged Zhu Wan aside and demanded an explanation.
Inside the mountain’s Dharma Hall.
The formations and talismans, reaching their limit, shattered one after another.
The light suddenly intensified, blindingly bright, then, with a deafening boom, it vanished.
The pillars, beams, and roof, unable to withstand the surge of spiritual energy, collapsed.
Feng Chiyue, standing amidst the rubble, unharmed, sighed repeatedly.
Ming Jian Su, lost in meditation, finally awoke as the overwhelming power subsided.
Her face was as pale as snow. Before she could even speak, tears welled up in her eyes.
“Elder Sister, do you have any idea what’s happening?” Feng Chiyue asked, her expression serious.
But Ming Jian Su’s gaze was fixed on her, oblivious to their surroundings. She could see nothing but Feng Chiyue. Tears streamed down her face, her eyelashes heavy with their weight. She embraced Feng Chiyue. “I hate myself so much,” she sobbed.
She hated herself.
She hadn’t understood her true self back then and had even blamed Suxin.
But that person she had resented was her.
Why had she been so angry? Why had she entered seclusion? If she hadn’t been so stubborn, would the outcome have been different?
She had been the one who had broken her promise, the one who had been late, the one who had forgotten. She was the one who had caused this heartbreak.
She didn’t say anything more, simply burying her face in Feng Chiyue’s shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
Feng Chiyue held her trembling body, her own heart aching. She didn’t like seeing Ming Jian Su like this. She didn’t like this heavy, suffocating feeling. She lowered her gaze and asked softly, “What do you hate?”
“I’m sorry. I was late,” Ming Jian Su said.
Feng Chiyue immediately understood. It was related to that Selfless Sword left by Suxin.
Could a mere inheritance of swordsmanship affect her Elder Sister so deeply? Perhaps she had seen the truth. Feng Chiyue concealed her own emotions, pulled away from Ming Jian Su, and, wiping away her tears, said, “Didn’t I tell you before? It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”
Ming Jian Su couldn’t help but blame herself.
She took Feng Chiyue’s hand. “What if I am Suxin?” she asked.
She had arrived late. It could be said that she had been born at the wrong time. But what excuse did Suxin have?
Those pointless arguments, that meaningless seclusion, had almost separated them forever.
Even a month, a year apart was unbearable. This had been a thousand years! A hundred years of suffering in the Demon Abyss, hundreds of years of loneliness in the Abyss of the Milky Way… how could she not hate herself?
Feng Chiyue chuckled. “We are truly fated, Elder Sister,” she said. She paused, then frowned slightly. “But are you sure you want to talk about this now?”
The Dharma Hall had collapsed, leaving only rubble.
After the terrifying surge of spiritual energy subsided, Zhu Wan, Que Chenyi, and the others cautiously returned to the mountain.
They didn’t approach too closely, but the hall’s formations had been completely destroyed. With their immortal vision, they could easily see the two figures embracing amidst the ruins.
The cause of the hall’s collapse was unknown. The only certainty was that Ming Jian Su, rumored to be on the verge of death, was radiating a powerful, vibrant aura, closer to the Dao than any of them. She seemed more alive than ever.
“Were they arguing… or fighting?” Chu Yi asked.
Zhu Wan looked up at the sky, remaining silent.
Que Chenyi, grabbing the curious Qing Xun, fled, while Chang Huai, after a moment of hesitation, called out, “Zhu Wan!” and followed.
Unfortunately, Zhu Wan was too slow. Not only her, but also Chu Yi, Feng Yao, and the others suddenly felt a surge of danger, but before they could react, they were flung back by a powerful gust of wind, unable to even steady themselves, crashing to the ground one after another. Dust billowed, and deep craters appeared.
“She’s lashing out in anger,” Chu Yi said. She had been quick this time, dodging in time. Another deep sword scar appeared on the ground.
Ying Cunxin, hidden in her sleeve, was caught off guard, her head spinning. She shook her head and, biting Chu Yi’s hand viciously, drew blood.
Qing Xun, unharmed, had noticed a flash of silver. She tugged at Que Chenyi’s sleeve. “Something slipped into the Heavenly Princess’s sleeve,” she said.
Que Chenyi had also seen it, a snake or a dragon, perhaps. Her eye twitched. She covered Qing Xun’s mouth and dragged her away, warning her, “Don’t worry about what she keeps as a pet. Eat more and talk less.”
Chu Yi: “…”
The commotion on Morning Phoenix Mountain was significant. All the onlookers were left battered and bruised.
Zhu Wan didn’t dare to return. She grabbed Chang Huai and pleaded, “Can I stay with you for a while?”
Before Chang Huai could respond, a name seal on her Chaos Mirror lit up. It was her Master’s.
She opened it nervously, her eyes scanning the message. Only after she finished reading did she relax. “Fellow Daoist Chang Huai,” she said to Chang Huai, who was about to leave, “my Master has invited you to rebuild the Dharma Hall.”
Chang Huai was speechless. Seeing Zhu Wan clinging to her hand, she could only nod.
The arrival of these onlookers interrupted Ming Jian Su’s grief and self-loathing.
She couldn’t possibly continue staying in the ruins with Feng Chiyue. Thankfully, although the main hall was destroyed, there were still palaces and pavilions beyond the orchard.
She had used the best materials to build them, all for Feng Chiyue.
As they walked towards the orchard, they talked.
Ming Jian Su revealed that she was Suxin’s reincarnation, but then she noticed something was wrong. Back in the Demon Abyss, her junior sister had been responsive, but now that she mentioned their first meeting, Feng Chiyue had completely withdrawn, as if it were unrelated to her. Ming Jian Su recalled the events in the Minor Realm. The memories she had seen from her junior sister had mostly been about the Demon Abyss. As for anything before that, it remained a blank.
“Junior Sister,” she asked, “how much do you know about Suxin?”
Feng Chiyue thought for a moment. “She came to the Demon Abyss, killed Ming Ji, then went to the Cold Prison, helping me send my people’s souls into the Minor Realm,” she said. She knew what Ming Jian Su wanted to ask. Meeting her gaze, she smiled suddenly. “As the Phoenix Sovereign, I interacted with many immortals in the Immortal Realm. I had assumed she was just another casual acquaintance.”
“But since she’s your past self, Elder Sister, your connection must have been deeper.”
“But I still can’t remember how we met. Why?”
Her tone was laced with confusion.
Ming Jian Su’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t answer that question.
Had the fire of Nirvana erased those memories? Or had Feng Chiyue deliberately sealed away that painful past? Her followers, those who had stood before her, had perished. Her acquaintances, separated by a sea of blood, had betrayed her. The one she had been waiting for hadn’t appeared during those two hundred years… Those memories evoked only sorrow, hatred, and despair, everything that should be forgotten.
“It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember,” Feng Chiyue said, her voice distant, as if she were on the other side of the world, detached from all emotions.
Just as Ming Jian Su was about to be consumed by sadness, Feng Chiyue smiled again, returning from her aloofness.
“But one thing is certain,” she said. “I don’t blame you. I’m happy that you came.”
“So don’t blame yourself, Elder Sister. Shouldn’t we be blaming those who resorted to such underhanded tactics?”
“I want you to kill them, one by one, for me.”
Her smile was radiant, like a thousand peach trees in full bloom.
Her gentle words concealed a chilling killing intent.
She could have taken revenge herself.
But nothing in this world was more important than Ming Jian Su.
She couldn’t bear to see her Elder Sister consumed by guilt and regret.
If there was hatred in her heart, then let her kill!
In the Purple Empyrean Palace, stars adorned the ceiling.
Their light flickered, creating a myriad of patterns.
The Emperor Star, representing the Mandate of Heaven, gradually dimmed amidst the chaotic lights.
In the Great Yin Palace.
The Celestial Mother was meditating on the Water Moon Platform.
She suddenly opened her eyes, her fingers calculating. A cold smile spread across her face.
In the Azure Sovereign Hall.
Chu Yi was arguing with the little white dragon in her sleeve when a decree suddenly flew into the hall. She grabbed it, scanned it, and her expression changed abruptly. Ignoring the furious Ying Cunxin, she tucked her into her sleeve and, transforming into a beam of light, shot towards the Great Yin Palace.