Chapter Forty-Two: Liu Lanzhi’s Promise

Liu Lanzhi took out a handful of healing pills from her person—each one a precious reward from her master, so rare that she would not use them lightly under ordinary circumstances. But now, she fed them to Che Wuyou as if they were nothing more than candy. “Wuyou, I just want you to live. If you come back to me, I’ll do anything for you. If you die like this, then the Miao Village will have only me left—who else will walk through wind and rain with me after that?”

She desperately tried everything she could think of, but Che Wuyou showed no sign of waking. A wave of despair swept over Liu Lanzhi, together with a terror she had never known before. “Impossible,” she muttered, “you can’t die like this. You’ve always been by my side, going everywhere with me for so many years—how could you just leave me so easily?”

Suddenly, a thought flickered in her eyes. Fixing her gaze on Che Wuyou, she murmured, “Wuyou, do you like me? Tell me—do you? Even if you don’t say it, I know you do. You’ve always liked me, haven’t you?”

Even though Che Wuyou could not reply, Liu Lanzhi continued, “Wuyou, wake up, don’t sleep anymore. If you wake up this time, I promise I’ll treat you well, and when we grow up, I’ll marry you and be your wife. Then we’ll walk this path of cultivation together, hand in hand.”

But Che Wuyou’s body was growing colder, his vital signs fading. Perhaps his heart was laden with bitterness and exhaustion; he was simply too tired and needed rest.

Liu Lanzhi clutched his increasingly cold hand, biting her lip to hold back her tears. Carefully, she took out a famous wound salve from the cultivation world, applying it gently to Che Wuyou’s wounds. With a gentleness she had never shown before, she smiled through her tears. “Wuyou, you’re tired. Rest for a while. Senior Sister will avenge you. However he stabbed you, that’s how I’ll stab him.” Her voice was soft, as if afraid to disturb the one sleeping before her.

Then Liu Lanzhi left, her heart ablaze with fury as she charged at the man in black. The man was locked in a lively duel with Hong Shun and Hong Tao. Though at a disadvantage, his defense was impenetrable, and the two brothers could not best him. Suddenly, Liu Lanzhi joined the fray.

She loathed the man in black. Upon entering the battle, she fought with reckless abandon—intent on taking him down with her, caring nothing for her own safety.

This style of fighting suited Hong Shun perfectly; he too hated the man in black. But the man in black was like a turtle in its shell, and his long sword formed an impenetrable barrier. No matter how fiercely Hong Shun attacked, the man in black parried them all, leaving Hong Shun fuming. Two experts of the Returning Origin stage against one, and still only a draw—this was a humiliation for the proud Hong Shun.

But now, seeing Liu Lanzhi join the attack with such ferocity, Hong Shun was delighted, setting aside any past grievances with her and even shielding her actively. Both fought with desperate intensity, their teamwork unexpectedly effective. Even when there were occasional flaws, the man in black dared not press the attack too hard, for Hong Tao still waited behind.

Hong Shun fought with increasing joy—he hadn’t had such an exhilarating battle in ages. At last, he could not help but throw back his head and let out a long howl. “Damn it, what’s the point of wearing this thing?” He tore off his mask, fighting with all his might. Though Liu Lanzhi was surprised to find her ally was Hong Shun, she had no mind for such things now—her sole focus was killing the man in black.

Hong Tao, seeing the dazzling swordplay of Hong Shun and Liu Lanzhi, could not help but envy them. He recalled something the Grand Elder had once told him: “You and Hong Shun have similar talent, but you’re always held down by him. The reason is you lack the courage to throw everything into the fight. You’re too cautious, so your cultivation will always be a step behind his.”

Remembering Hong Shun’s usual foul mouth, Hong Tao thought, “Why am I not his equal?” He threw back his head and shouted, “Here I come! Take this, old man!” He too tore off his mask and swung his sword at the man in black with wild abandon.

When Hong Shun realized his companion was Hong Tao, he was momentarily stunned. “Have I misjudged this guy all this time? He can be this wild? I like it!”

The man in black was also briefly taken aback to recognize both as disciples of the Xuanqing Sect, but he remained silent. With the three attacking in madness, more and more flaws appeared in their offense, but he found no way to exploit them. Their joint assault was simply too fast; whenever one faltered, the others covered for him. Mistakes were easy to spot, but impossible to capitalize on.

The man in black cursed inwardly. Against Hong Shun and Hong Tao alone, he’d still have room to maneuver, but with all three there was no opening at all. He couldn’t understand it—before Liu Lanzhi joined, the brothers’ strength was ordinary, and he could have slain them both even at risk of grave injury. But after she arrived, their combined power surged, and even Hong Tao, whom he’d always looked down on, became a formidable threat.

Realizing he would gain nothing by continuing, the man in black considered retreat. But as soon as he moved, the three closed in relentlessly, giving him no chance at all. Hong Tao, in particular, was at his fiercest. “I’m just getting started and you want to run? Not a chance!”

Now outnumbered three to one, the man in black felt the pressure mount. Anxiety gnawed at him—his identity must remain secret, for if it were revealed, he would die with no grave to mark his passing. The longer the fight dragged on, the greater the risk. He knew his agitation was a grave mistake in swordplay and in battle, but with his life at stake, he could not help himself.

Opportunities flashed before his eyes, but each slipped away. If only he could seize one and take out an opponent, the fight would become easier. Whom should he target? Liu Lanzhi was the weakest, and a must-kill—eliminating her would serve him doubly well.

But the thought no sooner arose than he abandoned it. The greatest threat was Hong Shun, whom he knew well—the head of Qingfeng Hall in the Xuanqing Sect. They had little personal connection, but they were at least acquainted. He didn’t know why Hong Shun had chosen to help Che and Liu, but now that they stood on opposite sides, the only option was to kill him.

The man in black waited patiently for Hong Shun to slip up. As soon as he saw an opening, he struck with a lethal sword-thrust, determined to kill Hong Shun even at the cost of grave injury.

His sword flashed like a rainbow toward Hong Shun’s chest. In that instant, Hong Shun’s eyes widened in despair—his life was forfeit. Hong Tao’s sword pierced the man in black’s left arm, but he did not retreat, resolved to kill Hong Shun first.

Suddenly, another sword, swift as lightning, met the man in black’s blade. At the moment of impact, one sword was sent flying into the sky, and a slender figure was knocked far away. Hong Shun seized the precious chance and leaped back, a spray of blood marking the air. Though he kept his life, he was gravely wounded.

Meanwhile, Che Wuyou’s consciousness was enshrouded in darkness; he felt unbearably weary, unable to escape the gloom. For a moment, he truly wished to sink into sleep. Yet faintly, he seemed to hear Lanzhi calling him, telling him many things—though he could not make out the words, he saw her face, filled with longing. It was a look he had never seen before, so sorrowful, so helpless, and yet so tender.

Che Wuyou wanted to see more clearly. He could not bear to sleep, so he struggled with all his might toward the light. Within him, the green medicinal force long dormant in his dantian began to move of its own accord, mending his wounds, while the nameless scripture he cultivated also stirred to life.

His flesh and blood, like a starving man, devoured the green energy hungrily, slowly transforming. Though the process was slow, the benefit to Che Wuyou was immense.

Time passed. At last, the green medicine grew still, the nameless art ceased its motion, and his body’s transformation halted. Yet his long-stagnant body refinement technique had grown more powerful, reaching the middle stage of Meridians—equivalent to the mid-stage of the Purple Mansion realm.

Because of the earlier upheaval in his dantian, Che Wuyou gained further benefits; his cultivation advanced another step, finally reaching the peak of the Qi Refining stage. At last, he stood at the first great threshold on his path of cultivation—the Purple Mansion.