Yan Ling knelt in the snow for four days.
Perhaps because the snowy nights were utterly silent, deep in the night, Yan Ling, covered in snow, faintly heard whispered voices.
“Want to get out…”
“Mother doesn’t want me…”
“Save me.”
The Xi family’s Tianyan earth vein ran through the entire residence. Yan Ling, kneeling alone, tilted his head in confusion. Thick accumulated snow crashed down from his head onto the ground.
Someone was speaking.
Perhaps the cold had sharpened Yan Ling’s mind. He roughly deduced that the Xi family’s wastrel young master, Xi Jue, had been hidden away. That’s why they’d altered his memories and consciousness to replace Xi Jue for academy enrollment.
Yan Ling remained silent for a long time, listening to the faint whispers in his ears. Suddenly, he quietly let his spirit leave his body.
“Save me.”
The “Sound of Leisure” xiangwen instinctively followed that voice, quietly guiding him past patrolling people until he reached the Xi family’s Tianyan Shrine.
Yan Ling seemed to be pulled by invisible threads, gradually passing through the layers of barriers formed by Tianyan until finally entering the earth vein itself.
Tianyan flowed like a spiritual river beneath the earth, mountain springs endlessly murmuring.
Before the Tianyan earth vein, a thin figure was bound by massive chains, pinned firmly to the ground.
Countless golden threads extended from the Tianyan spiritual river, boring into every meridian of that person, constantly extracting spiritual force from the “Kan Tianyan” xiangwen to nourish the earth vein.
Yan Ling walked forward in a daze and finally saw who was imprisoned.
—A face identical to his own.
It was the real Xi Jue.
Ever since awakening “Kan Tianyan,” Xi Jue had been imprisoned here. His nature was willful and uncontrollable. Even if the Xi family wanted to release him, the young Xi Jue, having suffered so much, would certainly try to escape.
The Xi family naturally wouldn’t let “Kan Tianyan” roam free and fall into another family’s hands. No matter how reluctant Xi Ze and Lady Xi were, they could only lock him underground.
Years of confinement and constant torment had left Xi Jue skeletal. His wrists and ankles bore struggle marks. The chains had even ground through tendons, the wounds deep enough to see bone.
Yet despite this, Xi Jue still thought daily about how to escape.
Vaguely sensing something wrong with the space, the listless Xi Jue slowly raised his head and met the gaze of the spirit-form Yan Ling.
Yan Ling stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words.
Xi Jue gave a sneer and said: “Kid, got any food?”
Yan Ling shook his head.
“Useless.” Xi Jue said lazily. “Then you come here and comb my hair for me.”
Yan Ling stepped forward and reached out, only to watch his spirit hand pass right through Xi Jue’s face.
He couldn’t touch anything at all.
Xi Jue clicked his tongue. Having had no one to talk to for so long, his words came out jumbled: “How you get in, barrier, pass through?”
Yan Ling, inexplicably at peace beside him, sat down shaking his head: “Don’t know.”
“How don’t you know?” Xi Jue said irritably. “What do you know? Can you get me out?”
Yan Ling shook his head again.
Xi Jue spat: “Useless.”
Yan Ling didn’t appreciate being insulted for no reason. Frowning, he stood to leave.
Xi Jue immediately panicked: “Hey, hey, shorty, don’t go. Talk some more. Keep me company.”
The one named Yan who was short: “…”
Did this person know how to have a conversation at all?
“I’m leaving.” Yan Ling’s small face turned cold. Knowing this person was perhaps the root cause of his current calamity, he glared at him: “Once I kill Xi Ze, I’ll consider letting you out.”
Xi Jue immediately burst out laughing: “You? Kill Xi Ze? A Golden Core stage? That’s hilarious!”
Yan Ling: “…”
Yan Ling walked back expressionlessly and kicked Xi Jue’s chains hard, saying coldly: “Then laugh yourself to death.”
He turned to leave.
“Hey, hey!” Xi Jue finally gave in, showing he could bend: “I was wrong, I was wrong. Little one, you’re tall and mighty like Kuafu himself. Come, little Kuafu, talk with older brother some more.”
Yan Ling’s brow furrowed tightly. He clearly found this person had no idea how to have a conversation.
Fearing he’d leave, Xi Jue quickly humbled himself and asked earnestly: “How do you plan to kill Xi Ze? He’s in the Void Return realm—very hard to kill. Tell me, maybe I can help?”
Yan Ling frowned: “Aren’t you from the Xi family?”
Xi Jue burst into laughter, his thrashing body clanking the chains loudly.
With just a few exchanges of dialogue, he’d regained his conversational rhythm, speaking cheerfully: “The Xi family treats me like this—why should I be stupidly loyal, die as their tool xiangwen, and become their obedient ghost? Where’s the sense in that? They torment me—naturally I’ll take revenge!”
Yan Ling froze.
The two stared at each other in silence for a long while.
Suddenly, someone said softly: “Killing just Xi Ze is boring. Should we kill the entire Xi family instead?”
The young “Kan Tianyan” and the derived xiangwen “Sound of Leisure” began a six-year plan beginning on winter solstice.
Wen Gubai became their blade.
At first, Yan Ling would separate his spirit from his body each time to find Xi Jue. Later, perhaps sensing something amiss at the Tianyan Shrine, the Xi family elders strengthened defenses.
Xi Jue simply gave Yan Ling a trace of his origin Tianyan spiritual force to maintain contact between them.
“Call me older brother.” Xi Jue said cheekily. Every time he saw Yan Ling’s cold face, he wanted to tease him, endlessly chattering in his ear.
A flash passed through Yan Ling’s eyes as he sensed that trace of Tianyan origin. He said angrily: “Can you just shut up?!”
Xi Jue laughed heartily: “Who told you to form your Nascent Soul at fifteen? You’re so short—what’s wrong with calling me older brother? You call people from Zhuxing Zhai that readily enough!”
Yan Ling said: “Chatty mouth, be quiet.”
Xi Jue wouldn’t stop, speaking cheerfully: “Hey Ling-er, how did I notice that person…no wait, that one, yes, standing under the osmanthus tree, looking at you with such strange eyes?”
Yan Ling was shoving spiritual pills into his mouth, wanting to eat more to grow taller so Xi Jue would stop his endless nagging.
His mouth full of pills, he mumbled along with Xi Jue’s direction. His gaze suddenly collided with Sheng Jiao’s watching eyes.
“Strange eyes?”
“Yeah, he looks like he wants to eat you.”
Yan Ling said irritably: “He’s my good friend.”
“Oh.” Xi Jue, probably from years without anyone to talk to, was always pestering Yan Ling endlessly. “But your ‘good friend’ looks like he has deep feelings for you.”
Yan Ling: “…”
Yan Ling said, startled: “Are you even listening to yourself?”
They were both grown men. Besides, Yan Ling was only sixteen—he hadn’t even openly looked at female cultivators yet. How could he suddenly have some grown man—and that tight-lipped fellow he spent every day with—harboring deep feelings for him?
Xi Jue, speak-and-forget, hid laughing silently in Yan Ling’s consciousness without another word.
Yan Ling had originally thought Sheng Jiao was just a close friend, but Xi Jue’s loose mouth mentioning “deep feelings” made him increasingly feel something was off about Sheng Jiao every time he looked at him.
“How self-indulgent.” Yan Ling patted his own cheek and continued shoving spiritual pills into his mouth, thinking, “What does the Tiandao master know about romantic love anyway? Even if he liked me, he shouldn’t like someone like me. That fool must be spouting nonsense.”
Thinking this, suddenly someone patted him from behind.
Yan Ling jumped: “I wasn’t thinking about anything!”
“What are you talking about?” Feng Yu peered over and confused, felt his forehead. “I thought you’d burned yourself silly. What’s wrong—why are you muttering to yourself…ugh, you’re eating spiritual pills again. Stop it, they won’t make you grow taller.”
Yan Ling chased after him furiously.
Feng Yu fled with his head protected. Seeing Sheng Jiao also coming to help Yan Ling beat him, he hastily pulled out a life-saving weapon from his pocket—a half-moon patterned water mirror.
“Behold! My treasure!”
Yan Ling kept hitting him while on top of him, saying angrily: “What, can your mirror capture me or something?!”
Feng Yu, seeing it wasn’t working, hastily said: “Stop, stop! My father said I absolutely must hand this mirror to you personally. Don’t hit…ah!”
Yan Ling only looked at the mirror after he’d finished beating him. He’d expected to see his own face in it, but when his gaze fell on the mirror’s surface, he faintly glimpsed several moon patterns.
At the same time, that gentle water flow sound that appeared in dreams slowly emerged from the mirror.
Yan Ling’s entire body went rigid. He widened his eyes in disbelief.
He snatched the water mirror away and, without even looking at the suddenly fleeing Feng Yu, rode the wind directly back to his quarters.
Yan Ling’s hands trembled as he touched the half-moon patterned water mirror. A surge of spiritual force suddenly appeared. That familiar figure transformed into flowing light and silently emerged from the mirror, standing before Yan Ling.
Yan Yue now had the appearance of a young boy, surrounded by ghostly aura, his expression cold and emotionless.
Yan Ling stared: “A-Yue?”
Yan Yue stared at him. After a long moment, he seemed to finally recognize him.
But he had died once after all. Even after his soul was shattered and he’d spent years finally cultivating back into a physical form fused with the water mirror, the damage to his spirit still left him changed from before.
“Senior…senior brother.”
Yan Yue managed to utter two words with difficulty. Before he could react, Yan Ling had already thrown himself forward, as if finding a lost treasure, holding him tightly.
Yan Yue froze. He seemed to try hard to smile sweetly, but his face appeared frozen, unable to form any expression.
His embrace was no longer warm either—only the cold, dark aura of a ghost.
Yet Yan Ling didn’t care.
Yan Yue’s continued existence in this world finally gave Yan Ling genuine attachment to this realm.
From then on, Yan Ling increasingly looked forward to reclaiming his Yan Ling identity after revenge, leaving Central State with his friends to open a medical clinic somewhere in the Northern Territory.
Soon after, he heard the sound of flowers blooming in Sheng Jiao’s heart—so beautiful it left him pleasantly shocked.
He didn’t reject it. His instinct was simply joy.
Once everything flowed naturally into place, amid beautiful imaginings of the future, Yan Ling bashfully added a “dao companion” to his plans.
Once the Xi family matter was settled, they could return to Yanwen Mountain, repair the spiritual residence, rebuild new caves, and live in seclusion in the mountains—which wasn’t bad either.
Yan Ling had originally planned to start the scheme after reaching Void Return, but the Xi family wanted to completely fuse his xiangwen with the Tianyan earth vein before “Xi Jue’s” coming-of-age ceremony, erasing Xi Jue from existence.
With no choice, the two accelerated their plans, intending to act on the Qiaoqi festival and the coming-of-age ceremony day.
The Qiaoqi festival approached.
Yet Rang Chen suddenly arrived for no reason, telling Yan Ling a future where he would die by Sheng Jiao’s hand.
Yan Ling looked at Rang Chen in disbelief. His fearless expression instantly vanished, replaced by near-stupefied confusion as he murmured: “Sheng Jiao wants to kill me? But…but we’re about to undergo dual cultivation and merge our paths.”
The two had already undergone dual cultivation. Yan Ling had even planned the details of their union ceremony at Yanwen Mountain, only waiting for Qiaoqi to pass.
But now, “Glimpsing Heaven’s Secrets” was telling him his future dao companion would slaughter him because of the Xi family matter?
Rang Chen was shaken by these words, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on it. He quickly gestured: You already have a destination. Whatever happens afterward, Sheng Jiao…will stay with you. Your life is just beginning—are you going to destroy it with your own hands?
Yan Ling stood there, his soul seeming to depart, his pupils dark and lifeless, seemingly swayed.
Rang Chen’s movements grew gentler: What could possibly be worth sacrificing your entire life for, A-Jue?
Mentioning this seemed to help. But after a moment, Yan Ling’s pupils moved. The grief and confusion that had briefly appeared was squeezed out like it never existed, completely transforming into cold, emotionless ice.
“That’s right.” Yan Ling said coldly. “They destroyed me. Naturally, I’ll make them repay blood with blood. Even sacrificing my entire life is worth it.”
Rang Chen froze.
Yan Ling quickened his pace and left, eyes slightly reddened.
In Rang Chen’s eyes, Yan Ling seemed to be gradually walking down a path of no return. More and more ominous red wrapped tightly around his entire meridians, dragging him inch by inch into an abyss with no visible bottom.
Yan Ling covered his eyes and stumbled forward, not wanting to see Rang Chen’s hand signs.
For the first time, Rang Chen questioned “Glimpsing Heaven’s Secrets.” It let him see the future, yet could only helplessly watch. Was this truly a blessing from Tianyan?
Wasn’t it rather a shackle binding him?
Rang Chen’s lips moved slightly. After thinking something through, he produced sound for the first time in eight years.
Halting and stammering, hoarse enough to sound unfamiliar even to himself.
“A-Jue, stop.”
“Sheng Jiao… will kill you.”
Only these words could shake Yan Ling.
Yan Ling quickened his pace, then froze upon hearing the unfamiliar voice. He stared for a long moment before turning back in shock.
Blood spilled from Rang Chen’s mouth. Eight years of cultivation destroyed in an instant, yet he still tried to make Yan Ling stop.
Yan Ling, seeing Rang Chen covered in blood, suddenly erupted in fury: “Can you please stop meddling with me?!”
Rang Chen: “A-Jue, Sheng Jiao…”
“Enough!” Yan Ling nearly collapsed. “Please, let me go. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear this…”
Why would he ruin his own cultivation just to warn him?
Someone as thoroughly rotten as Yan Ling wasn’t worth Rang Chen destroying himself for.
If Rang Chen hadn’t spoken, the path ahead would be shrouded in endless, impenetrable darkness. Infinite possibilities would be hidden in that blackness. Even if Yan Ling stumbled and bled from crashing into walls, at least there remained one final thread of hope drawing him forward.
Making him believe that one day he would escape the mist and reach the sunlight.
But Rang Chen had brushed away all the mist, severing every possibility, forcing Yan Ling to see his tragic future laid bare before him.
—Making him know with crystal clarity that this was a dead end.
All his fantasies of three close friends in harmony, of merging paths with his dao companion in marital bliss, were merely beautiful illusions.
Fragile as glass.
***
On the day of Qiaoqi, torrential rain fell. Thunder rumbled endlessly.
Xi Ze, dressed entirely in black, shouted harshly through the downpour: “What have you done?!”
Spirit Transformation-stage Yan Ling, wielding the Spring Rain sword, smiled cheerfully at him: “Father surely hasn’t forgotten—back then I said…”
If you don’t kill me today, one day I’ll make you pay the price.
Though Xi Ze was in Void Return realm, his cultivation seemed forcibly suppressed. His Tianyan xiangwen couldn’t exert its full power. He was actually being pressed down by Yan Ling wielding the Spring Rain sword.
Yan Ling showed no mercy. The Spring Rain sword was ferociously fierce. Even a single wound was carved through with enough force to imbed horrifying sword intent deep into bone and blood that wouldn’t dissipate even in death.
In mere moments, Xi Ze’s entire body was covered in grim wounds. He knelt on the ground, clenching his teeth, utterly disheveled. Where was the dignity of a supreme leader of Central State?
“Doesn’t it bother you… that one called Yan Yue won’t survive?”
At these words, Yan Ling burst out laughing: “You mean A-Yue? Didn’t Xi Qingfeng kill him long ago?”
Xi Ze’s pupils shrank.
“You’ve always wanted to know what my spiritual-grade xiangwen is, haven’t you?” Yan Ling crouched beside Xi Ze and touched his lip with one hand, speaking softly: “Today I’ll tell you.”
He was too close. A flash of viciousness crossed Xi Ze’s eyes. He drew his sword to strike unexpectedly and cut him down.
“Ching—”
The sound of a sword leaving its sheath, mixed with the dull sound of a blade piercing flesh.
Xi Ze’s eyes suddenly widened. Struggling, he lowered his head and saw Yan Ling smiling as he drove the Spring Rain sword into his heart, continuously twisting the hilt, determined to crush his heart to pieces.
“…My xiangwen is called ‘Hearing Hearts.’ All these years, I’ve known of every plan you made.” Even as Xi Ze was dying, Yan Ling refused to tell him a single truth, speaking with a smile: “Surely you hate this now? But there’s nothing you can do.”
Yan Ling suddenly wrenched the sword free. Xi Ze staggered and collapsed to the ground with a thud.
“…You killed my parents, I slaughtered your entire clan. That’s quite fair, isn’t it?” Yan Ling looked down at Xi Ze, his eyes cold and emotionless with hints of manic cruelty, his voice light and gentle: “No one lost out. The Supreme Leader can forgive me, can’t you?”
Xi Ze’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets, glaring at Yan Ling with pure hatred. He struggled to reach out and grab Yan Ling’s robes. Large amounts of fresh blood poured from his throat, choking off the words he wanted to speak.
“I know what you want to say.” Yan Ling ignored the hatred and rage on Xi Ze’s face and spoke gently: “You’ve forgiven me. I know.”
Xi Ze’s eyes suddenly widened in fury at these words. His pupils gradually lost focus.
…He became still.
Yan Ling withdrew his smile, his face expressionless as he used spiritual force to completely destroy Xi Ze’s soul, leaving him no possibility of revival or reincarnation.
Afterward, Yan Ling was startled by thunder and his soul wandered. He allowed Xi Jue to occupy his body.
The entire Xi residence became a mountain of corpses and sea of blood. The thunder’s light was pale as paper, its droning sound deafening.
Wen Gubai broke the barrier imprisoning Xi Jue for eight years. Xi Jue finally saw daylight again, but his limbs’ meridians were severed. He couldn’t walk freely.
Already people had noticed the disturbance at the Xi residence. The Xiezhi Sect would arrive soon.
Wen Gubai didn’t want to leave traces. He silently transformed into a flying swallow and departed.
Yan Ling helped Xi Jue’s skeletal frame out from the Tianyan earth vein that had imprisoned him for eight years. The torrential rain soaked them both through. The two exchanged glances and, without agreement, simultaneously burst into unrestrained laughter.
“Let’s go.” Xi Jue wiped away tears and rain from his face and said softly, “Find a…”
Lady Xi’s voice echoed in his mind, gradually merging with Xi Jue’s own voice.
“Find a place where no one will find you.”
“Don’t come back.”
Yan Ling’s face was streaked with tears as he laughed. He raised his hand and pressed the Spring Rain sword and Yan Yue’s water mirror into Xi Jue’s hands, speaking softly: “A-Yue will take you away.”
Xi Jue froze and struggled to reach out and grab Yan Ling, but his hands couldn’t lift at all.
“What about you?”
“The entire Xi family has been slaughtered. If I disappear, families who know of ‘Kan Tianyan’ will surely cast a net to search for you. We won’t be able to escape.” Yan Ling finally combed Xi Jue’s disheveled hair upward, raised a smile, and spoke softly: “You go first to the Northern Territory border. It’s murky waters there where fish and dragons mix. Once you’re hidden safely, I’ll come find you.”
“The Xiezhi Sect knows your identity!” Xi Jue grew anxious. “They won’t let you go.”
Yet Yan Ling pointed to his own eyes and said flatly: “They won’t kill me.”
Xi Jue froze, finally realizing Yan Ling’s eyes held the origin Tianyan spiritual force he’d given earlier.
“With this, they’ll think I’ve claimed your xiangwen for myself. They’ll definitely want ‘Kan Tianyan.'” Yan Ling had Yan Yue materialize and help Xi Jue to his feet. He smiled, feigning ease: “I’ll clam up and refuse to talk. They won’t be able to do anything to me. Besides…”
He still had an account to settle with Qu Xiangren.
Seeing Xi Jue still anxiously trying to persuade him, Yan Ling laughed and scolded: “Stop your nagging—so annoying. Go, quickly.”
Yan Yue picked Xi Jue up and turned to look at Yan Ling.
Yan Ling spoke softly: “It’s fine. Wait for me to come find you both.”
Yan Yue didn’t waste a word. He disappeared silently into the darkness with the grumbling Xi Jue.
Yan Ling watched their retreating figures. The smile on his face gradually faded.
He stumbled and sat down on the blood-stained ground. It seemed the force that had sustained him all these years suddenly drained away. His entire body was exhausted—he couldn’t even lift his hands.
The rain continued endlessly.
Yan Ling sat there vacant and hollow-eyed for a long while before suddenly murmuring softly:
“Mother, when will the rain stop?”
Once the rain stops, everything will come.
He’ll see his parents and A-Yue. He can romp freely on Yanwen Mountain and sneak out to play.
Why won’t this rain ever stop?
Why is everything he wants so hard to obtain?
A seventeen-year-old boy sat alone in a sea of blood. Though he was the cold-hearted executioner who slaughtered the Xi family, he looked like a lost child, choking with sobs as he wept on the ground.
“Father, Mother…”
If all this had just been a nightmare—if a young child had stumbled in his sleep and suddenly awakened, opening his eyes to find himself still in that small room on Yanwen Mountain from his youth.
Everything as before.
Rain falling gently.
That night’s torrential Qiaoqi rain and Yanwen Mountain’s soft, gentle patter gradually merged, echoing like a sorrowful piano melody.
Young Yan Ling stepped down countless moss-covered stone stairs one by one. The small sapling planted long ago had grown into a towering tree. Fourteen years of time rushed past. The youth’s form grew taller and taller, finally shaped by countless sufferings into a tall young man.
Yan Jianglan stepped onto the final stair, raised his eyes, and saw the ruins of Yanwen Mountain.
Yan Yuhu walked slowly to stand behind him, silently looking with him at their former home.
Yanwen Mountain remained unchanged over more than a decade—beautiful mountains and clear waters. Countless thick vines crawled over the spiritual residence ruins, as if completely erasing all traces of the Yan family’s existence.
Everything faded with time.
Yan Jianglan looked at the familiar yet strange surroundings. His eyes flickered with waves of light as he softly whispered:
“Father, Mother…”
“I’m home.”
***
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152