AVL CHAPTER 70

Butterflies enter the dream.

 

The cultivators in the phantom realm seemed to collectively enter an absurd dream. Their surroundings were eerie and bizarre, all manner of strange things gathered in one place, grotesque and supernatural, yet everyone felt it was perfectly reasonable.

 

Xi Jianlan keenly sensed he was in a dream, but inexplicably didn’t want to wake up.

 

He had a beautiful dream.

 

Amid fluttering butterflies, the young Xi Jianlan’s body was light, returning to the appearance of a ten-year-old child, dressed in white as he descended the long mountain stairs like wind, smiling broadly as he called out:

 

“Going out to play—no reading or sword practice. Hey, don’t you dare tattle, or I won’t take you to play next time.”

 

The child several steps behind stumbled down the mountain, panting: “But… but you’ll get scolded.”

 

Xi Jianlan laughed heartily: “Have I received few scoldings since childhood? Whoever’s scared is a… meow?”

 

In the dream, the faceless child supported his knees to catch his breath, saying in confusion: “Huh? Didn’t you always say ‘woof’ before?”

 

Xi Jianlan beckoned to him: “Come quick and look—there’s a cat.”

 

The child ran over curiously and crouched on the ground with Xi Jianlan to look into the dense grass.

 

Sure enough, from the green shade emerged a palm-sized black cat, trembling. Having been drenched by last night’s rain, it was soaked through like a drowned rat, weakly meowing at them.

 

Xi Jianlan curiously picked it up.

 

“It really is a cat.”

 

“Should we raise it?”

 

“Sure, if it’s smart enough, it can transform into human form later and help me practice swords to appease my parents.”

 

“…”

 

As the overwhelming butterflies danced away, Xi Jianlan, carrying the wet little cat on his shoulder as he strolled up the mountain, stopped and raised his hand to let a butterfly land on his finger, tilting his head to look at it.

 

The colorful wings fluttered leisurely.

 

Xi Jianlan stared intently for a long while before suddenly saying quietly: “Is this a dream?”

 

The butterfly instantly transformed into clusters of osmanthus flowers bursting on his fingers.

 

Xi Jianlan suddenly realized and immediately struggled to run up the mountain along the hundreds and thousands of stairs.

 

The half-grown child who always loved to follow behind him now walked ahead, seeming unreachable. No matter how fast Xi Jianlan ran, he could never catch up.

 

Xi Jianlan desperately reached toward the child’s back, but his feet grew heavier and heavier. Countless butterflies submerged his lower body, firmly dragging his steps.

 

“A-Yue…”

 

“Father! Mother!”

 

Bang.

 

The butterflies dragged him off the precipice, his body falling uncontrollably downward as he watched the constructed beautiful dream collapse thunderously.

 

Xi Jianlan’s eyes flew open as he clutched his chest in shock, gasping for breath.

 

After the buzzing in his ears faded, the familiar sound of spinning Tianyan Pearls that made his scalp tingle rang from far to near, like a sharp executioner’s blade hanging overhead.

 

Xi Jianlan looked up in confusion to see Sheng Jiao standing not far away, expressionlessly watching him.

 

The Tianyan Pearls on his wrist gradually stilled.

 

Xi Jianlan momentarily couldn’t distinguish dream from reality, holding his breath as he watched the 108 Tianyan Pearls slowly stop.

 

A bloody red glow fell from Sheng Jiao’s wrist, looking like continuous streams of blood from Sheng Jiao’s tiger’s mouth—searing and ominous.

 

All 108 Tianyan Pearls now showed “Execute.”

 

Sheng Jiao’s pupils were cold and merciless. His lips didn’t move, yet his voice seemed to come from the horizon.

 

“Execute.”

 

Xi Jianlan’s pupils contracted sharply. Overwhelming terror completely engulfed him. Thunder brewed in the sky, and Sheng Jiao’s spiritual power could slaughter him on the spot in the next instant.

 

But Xi Jianlan seemed to forget to flee. Instead, he desperately covered his ears with both hands, saying in a daze: “It wasn’t, it wasn’t me…”

 

As if covering his ears would make all this nonexistent.

 

Sheng Jiao’s terrifying killing intent, Tianyan’s oppressive urging…

 

The sound of falling flowers was so faint, yet it rang like thunder in Xi Jianlan’s ears.

 

Xi Jianlan deceived himself. Just as he was becoming dazed and about to collapse, the cool golden bell on his wrist touched his earlobe, startling him awake with its cold.

 

Golden bell?

 

Xi Jianlan opened his eyes and looked at the exquisite golden bell hanging from his wrist.

 

The golden bell trembled slightly from his shaking but made no sound.

 

Sheng Jiao clearly wasn’t nearby—so who was this person before him judging him guilty?

 

The moment this thought arose, Xi Jianlan instantly regained clarity. The nightmare “Sheng Jiao,” Tianyan thunder, and Tianyan Pearls around him immediately transformed into butterflies and scattered violently.

 

Having gone through beautiful dreams and nightmares, Xi Jianlan felt physically and mentally exhausted. Upon returning to the real secret realm, he sat dazed for a while. Seeming to hear something, he touched his earlobe.

 

“Karma’s Course?”

 

Yu Tuishan’s “Kan Tianyan” could briefly create all xiangwen recorded in the Tianyan Registry—including the Spirit-grade “Dream of Yellow Millet.”

 

Among the thirteen Spirit-grade xiangwen, Xi Jianlan remembered the third-ranked xiangwen was “Karma’s Course,” which could see through the intricate causes and effects of all things in the world. Its master had ascended hundreds of years ago.

 

Yu Tuishan had actually created “Karma’s Course” in the secret realm too?

 

What karma did he want to see through?

 

The xiangwen of “Karma’s Course” was a banyan tree laden with spirit fruits.

 

Being temporarily forged by Tianyan, the banyan tree was only the size of an ordinary tree. Butterflies landed in the spirit fruits formed by spiritual power. When their antennae touched lightly, they seemed wrapped in water spheres and were instantly devoured into the spirit fruits.

 

Ding.

 

Sheng Jiao stood indifferently beneath the tree.

 

Qin Banban lay quietly sleeping sweetly on the banyan tree’s protruding surface roots.

 

The secret realm was deathly silent. When Sheng Jiao sent spiritual power rippling horizontally for hundreds of li, he found no other spiritual power fluctuations besides his own.

 

Something was amiss here.

 

The Tianyan Pearls seemed to sense something and suddenly broke free from Sheng Jiao’s control. One hundred and seven scattered, circling endlessly around the banyan tree.

 

Butterflies came rolling with wild wind, making the banyan tree rustle.

 

The spirit fruits rippled like water, then seemed to fully ripen, bursting open on the branches with a “pop.”

 

Three Spirit-grade xiangwen gathered here.

 

Sheng Jiao watched the dream fragments falling from the burst spirit fruits, his pupils contracting sharply.

 

That was Liu Changxing’s dream.

 

Not a beautiful or nightmare, but a peach garden.

 

Peach blossoms flew everywhere. Young Liu Changxing sat cross-legged among the peach flowers, racking his brains in wild speculation.

 

“Encounter Peach Blossoms? Peach Blossom Wind? Anyway, it’s definitely related to peach blossoms.” He pushed the sickly little Xi Jue beside him. “Jue’er, did you remember? We’ve been trapped here for half a day. Today’s Qixi Festival. Oh right, isn’t it also your birthday? A good day for romance.”

 

Xi Jue’s small face was pale, looking dejected: “It’s not my birthday.”

 

Liu Changxing slapped him: “Then what is this formation? How do we break it?”

 

“I don’t remember.”

 

Xi Jue looked down at the peach blossoms in a daze, seemingly unwilling to speak. His entire being revealed exhaustion from inside out.

 

Director Wen had taught them too many formations. To cultivate their formation-breaking abilities, he’d deliberately placed many formations in hidden areas of Zhuxing Zhai. The two had stumbled in by accident.

 

Liu Changxing didn’t listen carefully in class, and the usually clever Xi Jue seemed to have lost his soul, sitting there silently.

 

Liu Changxing sat across from him, pinching his thinned small face and frowning: “You’ve been strange since returning from that training expedition. Were you scared by Xiezhi Sect’s executions?”

 

Xi Jue: “Mm.”

 

“The Sheng family keeps wanting Sheng Jiao to become an enforcer at Xiezhi Sect. He’ll definitely have to execute criminals too.” Liu Changxing counseled him. “Xiezhi Sect has always been just. Those enforcers kill guilty people—no need to be troubled over them.”

 

Xi Jue’s eyes were hollow as he said in confusion: “Xiezhi Sect… just?”

 

Even Liu Changxing’s careless nature detected Xi Jue’s strangeness. He frowned tightly and patted his face: “Jue’er, A-Jue? What’s wrong with you?”

 

Xi Jue remained absent-minded.

 

Liu Changxing always felt Xi Jue’s state would lead to problems and hurriedly circled around inside the formation.

 

He tilted his head thinking for a long time. The formations he’d learned these past two years were mostly forgotten, only vaguely feeling one formation seemed to require fingertip blood to break.

 

Liu Changxing gritted his teeth, deciding to try his luck.

 

He bit his fingertip and dripped fingertip blood on the life gate, then manipulated Xi Jue like a puppet doll to force out a drop of fingertip blood falling on the formation’s eye.

 

Two flashes of red light appeared as the dense peach trees surrounding them transformed into crimson smoke and drifted away.

 

They’d actually gotten it right?!

 

Liu Changxing’s luck had always been good. Overjoyed, he immediately pulled Xi Jue up.

 

It was Qixi Festival, also Xi Jue’s sixteenth birthday. Outside the formation it was raining, thunder rumbling continuously.

 

Xi Jue, just emerging, was startled by a thunderclap. He listened attentively to the deafening thunder, his small face reflected deathly pale by the lightning.

 

Liu Changxing was about to pull him running toward Jiusi Courtyard when he felt the slender wrist in his palm trembling incessantly, growing more violent, shaking so much it nearly broke free from his restraint and stumbled down awkwardly.

 

Xi Jue hadn’t cast a rain-avoidance technique. He stumbled and sat in the accumulated rainwater, completely drenched, staring dazedly at the void.

 

Seeing this expression, Liu Changxing nearly held his breath. He carefully knelt on one knee, his hand gently supporting Xi Jue’s shoulder.

 

“Jue’er?”

 

Xi Jue’s jaw was tense, black hair hanging down dripping water drops.

 

The moment Liu Changxing supported him, Xi Jue seemed stabbed viciously, suddenly convulsing as he bent forward, as if countless unbearable pains burst from within his body.

 

Liu Changxing was stunned, hearing the sound of water drops falling. Only after a long while did he belatedly realize.

 

Xi Jue was crying.

 

He cried with restraint yet grief, like a cornered, heavily wounded wild beast. His face was covered with intertwining water and tear marks. Under the flashing lightning, it seemed his gentle, harmless face was gradually distorting into a terrifying, fierce appearance.

 

Liu Changxing was so anxious he was at a loss. Just as he was about to forcibly lift him up, he heard Xi Jue’s hoarse voice ring out low.

 

“Have to kill them.”

 

Liu Changxing was stunned: “What?”

 

Xi Jue covered his ears, as if trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. His pupils were so full of resentment they nearly dripped blood, only repeating the murmur with near-madness.

 

“…Have to kill them all.”

 

Liu Changxing got goosebumps from these words: “Jue’er, what nonsense are you saying?”

 

Xi Jue didn’t answer. After gasping a few rapid breaths, he suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood. His frail body was like a seedling bent by the storm, collapsing awkwardly.

 

Liu Changxing caught him in shock: “Xi Jue!”

 

That was the first time Xi Jue’s soul was scattered by thunder.

 

Liu Changxing’s dream abruptly ended.

 

“Karma’s Course” seemed to detect a trace of clues, keenly transforming into a strand of vivid red phantom spiritual thread.

 

Sheng Jiao thought of something, his expression growing increasingly ugly.

 

He felt like a duck being pushed onto a stage, forcibly invited to take a seat. The banyan tree was like a theater stage—the one behind the scenes invited countless people using dreams one after another to present an exquisite and masterful play for him—or rather, for the Tianyan Pearls.

 

Everyone in the secret realm was being used.

 

Immediately after, another spirit fruit burst open.

 

It was Sheng Jiao’s dream.

 

Also from Xi Jue’s fifteenth year, winter with falling snow. Before New Year’s, amid the white snow, osmanthus flowers still bloomed.

 

Sheng Jiao walked through the goose-feather snow holding an umbrella, his usually indifferent face showing rare confusion. The further he walked, the more hesitant his steps became.

 

Ahead was the Xi family residence.

 

Before Tianyan Academy’s New Year holiday, Xi Jue had happily invited him to eat winter solstice dumplings.

 

—It was a Northern Territory custom to eat dumplings on winter solstice. Most of Central State and Southern Territory ate tangyuan instead. Who knew where this Central State person Xi Jue got such strange habits.

 

But this year’s winter solstice, the usually playful Xi Jue hadn’t come to find Sheng Jiao at all.

 

Sheng Jiao tossed and turned sleepless all night. Early the next morning after winter solstice, as soon as dawn broke, he braved the snow to come to the Xi family.

 

Xi Jue lived in a separate courtyard in the Xi family residence. Years ago, he’d given Sheng Jiao a jade token to enter the small courtyard.

 

Sheng Jiao entered the Xi residence as if entering an unguarded realm, but his hands hanging at his sides tightly gripped his sleeves.

 

He always felt that coming to find Xi Jue just because they hadn’t met on winter solstice—that temperamental little swindler would probably fabricate stories extensively, perhaps even boast about himself and flirtatiously say predatory words like Sheng Jiao couldn’t live without him.

 

Sheng Jiao’s fingers were pinched white, but no matter how slow his steps, he quickly reached Xi Jue’s small courtyard.

 

The young Lord of Heavenly Dao was silent for a while, preparing to face Xi Jue’s mockery and ridicule.

 

But just reaching the entrance, his peripheral vision caught the courtyard interior and he was slightly stunned.

 

In the vast courtyard, thick snow had accumulated to the calves. The frail-bodied Xi Jue knelt in the accumulated snow wearing only a single layer, back ramrod straight, black hair scattered on the ground with the ends already buried in snow.

 

Sheng Jiao’s lifeless pupils violently contracted.

 

The soft “crunch” of footsteps on snow quietly sounded. Xi Jue’s vacant, dazed eyes moved slightly, frost on his lashes falling in flurries.

 

Someone walked before him, a dark shadow enveloping him.

 

Xi Jue seemed frozen stupid. After being stunned for a long while, he looked up in a daze.

 

In just over ten days of not seeing him, Xi Jue had thinned almost beyond recognition. After recognizing Sheng Jiao, that small face instinctively showed the arrogance and wildness unique to the young master in an instant, stiffly smiling.

 

—Perhaps even he hadn’t realized it himself, like being forced to wear a false mask.

 

“Sheng Jiao? Why did you come?”

 

**

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