Chapter 16: Senior Brother

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Looking at the Jade Dawn Flowers crushed into the mud all over the ground, Yuchan Yi knitted her brows tightly. Gritting her teeth, she formed a hand seal and, though it pained her, chose to tend to the person first rather than the flowers.

She wrapped the man’s body in spiritual power, lifted him out of the flower field, and lowered him gently onto the ground.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that a large section of the Jade Dawn Flowers had been flattened. Many of the leaves and blossoms that could still be considered intact were spattered with beads of blood. If any blood had fallen onto the stamens, their dew could no longer be harvested. Yuchan Yi hurriedly put away the bottle and shouted toward the medicine hut, “Senior Sister! There’s someone here!”

At the same time, she secretly readied herself for danger, staring warily at the man lying on the ground.

Hearing Yuchan Yi’s cry, Wuxilan hurried out of the medicine hut. The moment she saw the black-clad man lying on the ground, her expression changed.

“Little Junior Brother!”

…So this was the Second Senior Brother, the one who, like their master, was always wandering the world outside.

At those words, Yuchan Yi lowered the hand she had been prepared to use for another spell and stood there, momentarily bewildered.

Wuxilan, meanwhile, quickly ran back into the medicine hut and called to her, “Little Junior Sister, hurry! Help me carry your senior brother into the hut.”

Yuchan Yi obeyed at once. Using spiritual power, she hoisted the man upright against herself. Because of the difference in their builds, she had his arm hooked around her neck, then steadily supported him into the medicine hut.

The Second Senior Brother was gravely wounded.

Yuchan Yi had held his arm for only a moment. When she withdrew her hand, her entire palm was coated in scarlet blood, which slipped through her fingers and dripped onto the floor.

Looking again, she saw that the entire path they had taken was marked by winding trails of blood. The black sleeve of the man lying on the bed was gradually soaked through, blood spreading down his dark clothing and continuing to drip onto the floor.

She could not imagine what he must have endured to suffer wounds this terrible. Staring at her blood-soaked palm, Yuchan Yi froze.

“Little Junior Sister, give him a Heart-Protecting Pill.” Wuxilan’s face was solemn as she tossed the pill to Yuchan Yi.

Yuchan Yi came back to herself and hurriedly caught it. By now, she was familiar with some of the medicines in Wuxilan’s hut. Wuxilan had told her before that the Heart-Protecting Pill was exceedingly precious. It had been left behind by their master for saving lives and treating severe injuries, and there was only one in the entire medicine hut.

She had never expected her senior brother to be so gravely injured that they would need to use it.

Wuxilan stayed in the medicine hut to prepare other medicines. Yuchan Yi quickly poured a cup of water, pinched the Heart-Protecting Pill between her fingers, and tried to place it against her senior brother’s lips.

Wuxilan sat nearby, meditating and regulating her breath.

The Heart-Protecting Pill was lustrous all over. Even held between her fingertips, it emanated such dense spiritual power that Yuchan Yi could almost feel it seeping through her skin.

The senior brother lying on the bed remained unconscious, his eyes tightly shut. Yuchan Yi had no choice but to grip his chin and push the pill into his mouth.

If necessary, she intended to use spiritual power to force him to swallow it. But once his colorless lips closed around the pill, his throat soon moved, and he swallowed it. Yuchan Yi finally let out a breath of relief.

After completing her task, she asked Wuxilan, “Is Senior Brother going to be all right?”

Wuxilan had finished meditating and circulating her energy. “I don’t know. I can’t heal his injuries. I’ve stopped the bleeding and given him the Heart-Protecting Pill. From here on, all we can do is leave it to his fate.”

“What?” It was that serious?

“You don’t need to worry. He has an exceptionally stubborn life force. His fate is strong.” Seeing that Yuchan Yi looked troubled, Wuxilan instead began comforting her. “Little Junior Sister, you joined the sect late, so there are some things you don’t know. When Master first brought your senior brother back, his injuries were even worse than this.”

“Even worse?”

“Much worse. At the time, all seventy-two inches of his spiritual meridians had been severed. He was only a step away from death. Yet who could have imagined that a few days later, he would wake up on his own?”

Even after all this time, Wuxilan still felt shaken whenever she recalled it. “Ordinarily, when a cultivator’s spiritual meridians are severed, their cultivation is ruined. But somehow, he managed to recover later.”

Yuchan Yi had only broken through the first inch of her own seventy-two-inch spiritual meridians and was now working toward the second. Hearing that her Second Senior Brother’s meridians had been completely shattered and then restored left her deeply shaken.

What kind of enemy could have severed all seventy-two inches of her senior brother’s spiritual meridians?

At that thought, Yuchan Yi’s brows drew together.

She remembered the people from the Taiwei Sect who had been watching the Endless Sect so closely from outside.

Could it have been them?

Yuchan Yi asked tentatively, “Could Senior Brother have offended some enemy? Why else would he be so badly wounded?”

“I don’t know. Your senior brother doesn’t like dealing with people. Ask him anything, and he says nothing. All he wants is to become a sword cultivator; there’s no one else in his eyes. Unfortunately, he has no talent for it. He can’t even draw the most ordinary sword, so he doesn’t possess the slightest aptitude for becoming a sword cultivator.”

Yuchan Yi was stunned.

Someone who could not draw a sword yet still dreamed of becoming a sword cultivator… So there was someone in this world whose circumstances were the same as hers once had been.

Seeing the slight daze in Yuchan Yi’s expression, Wuxilan patted her shoulder. “You’ll get used to it soon. Perhaps because he cannot practice the sword and is bitter about it, your senior brother is fond of placing himself in dangerous situations. Every time he returns, he is covered in wounds that neither Master nor I can completely heal. As Master puts it, sooner or later he will die somewhere out there. Little Junior Sister, everyone has their own aspirations, and everyone has their own fate. We should take care of ourselves and need not worry too much about your senior brother.”

Yuchan Yi said, “…All right.”

Since Wuxilan said he would be fine, then he would be fine, surely. Yuchan Yi was not a medical cultivator, and there was little she could do to help.

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What remained was simply to do everything within their power and leave the rest to fate.

“Then… my flowers…” Yuchan Yi suddenly looked pitifully at Wuxilan. She blinked, helpless and utterly heartbroken. “Senior Sister, Senior Brother crushed all our Jade Dawn Flowers!”

“It’s fine. I’ll go take a look,” Wuxilan said.

The two of them left the room and went to the spiritual field.

Wuxilan quickly restored the Jade Dawn Flowers that had been flattened.

Yuchan Yi watched as the leaves once more swayed freely in the breeze, and her heart finally eased.

The smell of blood still clung to her from helping the injured man into the hut. Standing amid the Jade Dawn Flowers, she could almost feel that wounded body pressing down upon her again.

“By the way,” Yuchan Yi asked, “Senior Sister, what should I call our Second Senior Brother?”

“Ah…” Wuxilan hesitated. An awkward expression appeared on her face as she shook her head. “He doesn’t have a known name. I’ve always called him Little Junior Brother. You can simply call him Senior Brother. He has no name.”

“No… name?”

“None. He has never told us one.”

“How can he have no name?” Yuchan Yi stared blankly for a moment, then murmured unconsciously, “Without a name, wouldn’t he be afraid… of being forgotten?”

“A person who considers himself nameless probably doesn’t care whether anyone remembers him,” Wuxilan replied.

“All right, all right, Little Junior Sister. There’s no need to be curious about such things. Your senior brother doesn’t speak to people. Once he wakes up, he may leave immediately, and you might not exchange a single word with him. I may be speculating too. In any case, we should take care of our own affairs first.”

Yuchan Yi did not ask any further.

—

Weisheng Ming felt as though nearly all the blood in his body had drained away.

His body was cold, as though he had fallen into an icy abyss. Yet it also seemed to be burning in the karmic flames of hell, the pain drilling into his marrow.

Was he going to die?

At that moment, an extraordinarily dense spiritual power entered through his lips. He held it in his mouth and swallowed. Then the dull pain that had long been lodged in his chest gradually faded, no longer tearing at his heart and gut.

After an unknown length of time, the mist before his eyes finally dispersed.

Within his mental sea, Weisheng Ming opened his eyes.

Here, the boundary between heaven and earth was indistinct. Everything was created by him and subject to his will.

This was the innermost territory of his heart, the most vulnerable place within him—one no one else could ever invade.

In the mental sea, Weisheng Ming stood upon water filled with a river of stars. With every step he took, rings of ripples spread beneath his feet.

Before long, strange rocks emerged from the water. The tranquil surface suddenly rose, and in the blink of an eye it transformed into a cliff where green pines stood tall.

The wind howled across the cliff. The rocks were jagged and towering. Soon, he was standing atop it.

Not far away, a slender figure in blue stood at the cliff’s edge. The wind roared around her, blowing that blue silhouette apart like willow fluff, as though she might tumble from the cliff at any moment.

Weisheng Ming’s breath caught. He strode rapidly to her side.

His five fingers spread open, revealing a spiritual fungus brimming with energy in his scarred palm.

The fungus was about the size of his hand. Its intricate patterns radiated a glimmer of golden light.

“I found a Soul-Nourishing Fungus for you,” Weisheng Ming said.

“A Soul-Nourishing Fungus?” the blue figure murmured, turning to face him.

But she had no face. Her features were merely a blurred mass, and her front looked no different from her back. Even her voice was indistinct and hazy, impossible to identify.

“Ancestral Continent is so dangerous. You went there too?”

Ancestral Continent was dangerous. But Weisheng Ming had no choice but to go.

After the fall of the Shennong Ancestor, it had become a land of exile.

Demon beasts occupied it, while poisonous insects and venomous creatures ran rampant. It was a place that even the cultivators of the Ten Continents of the Vast Sea were unwilling to set foot in.

The Soul-Nourishing Fungus matured only once every thousand years. To ordinary people, it possessed the power to revive the dead and restore flesh to bare bones. To cultivators, it was likewise an exceedingly rare treasure.

Weisheng Ming had searched Ancestral Continent for an immeasurably long time before finally finding one.

Perhaps drawn by the golden Soul-Nourishing Fungus in his hand, the blue figure slowly walked over from the cliff’s edge. After circling him several times, she said, “You’re badly injured.”

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After obtaining the Soul-Nourishing Fungus, Weisheng Ming encountered a serpent demon on his journey home.

Coveting the fungus in his hand, the serpent demon pursued him across more than half of Ancestral Continent.

While fighting the serpent demon, he was distracted for no more than an instant before the enormous creature coiled tightly around him, nearly twisting his body apart and crushing him into strips of flesh.

Its scales were as sharp as blades, slicing countless wounds across his body and sending blood spraying outward.

He broke free of the serpent demon’s restraints and killed it, only to be poisoned by a Bitterheart Herb because his mind was frequently clouded and disordered.

He had stumbled and staggered through the entire journey, coming close to death several times and enduring every kind of suffering. But none of it mattered. In the end, he had brought the Soul-Nourishing Fungus back.

“Wounds of flesh and blood will heal eventually,” Weisheng Ming said.

He held the Soul-Nourishing Fungus out, indicating that the blue figure should take it. “Look at it.”

The blue figure lowered her head and took the fungus from him. After examining it from side to side for a moment, she suddenly flung it from the cliff.

Throwing back her head, she laughed hysterically, utterly delighted. In a tone both regretful and airy, she said, “Weisheng Ming, Weisheng Ming… Do you really think a single Soul-Nourishing Fungus can bring me back to life? I’ve been dead for a full thousand years! There isn’t even a trace of my body left!”

“Give up on that foolish hope!”

With that, she leapt from the cliff without the slightest hesitation.

Weisheng Ming’s expression changed violently. He reached out, trying to seize the hem of her robe, but he could not reach her. Once again, he plunged after her over the cliff.

No matter how fast he was or how hard he tried, it was all futile. He could only watch as the already wavering figure was torn apart by the mountain wind, shattering in an instant and vanishing into thin air.

The rocks and cliff disappeared, returning to the water filled with a river of stars.

His body crashed heavily onto the mental sea. A spasmodic pain seized his heart, as though ten thousand ants were gnawing at it, leaving him so disheveled that he could not even rise.

Weisheng Ming endured the pain until his features twisted horribly and the veins at his temples throbbed.

In the end, he could no longer withstand the agony that pierced his heart and gnawed through his bones. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

At the same time, he opened his eyes.

He instinctively raised a hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. His expression was as calm as an ancient, undisturbed well. He did not care in the slightest, as though he had long since grown accustomed to the pain his body was forced to endure.

Weisheng Ming lifted his eyes and surveyed his surroundings.

This was the Endless Sect.

He had returned from Ancestral Continent.

Lowering his gaze, he recalled everything that had happened before. Realizing something, he undid his robes and looked down at his chest.

Across his pallid chest, the dreadful markings—black tinged with red—had long since spread like a spiderweb. They writhed toward his heart, clawing outward like the roots of a massive tree, as though intent on burrowing into his heart.

Today, the dark-red markings had spread even farther. They had crawled directly out from beneath his collar and reached his neck, where a small portion was faintly visible.

Weisheng Ming could not help giving a bitter laugh. He turned his head and leaned against the bed, closing his eyes for a moment before taking out the Soul-Nourishing Fungus.

The fungus was still saturated with spiritual energy, a divine herb capable of reviving the dead and restoring flesh to bare bones.

But it was useless. All of it was useless.

Weisheng Ming’s eyes were dark as he looked at the fungus. His expression was so calm that it seemed disappointment did not even qualify as an emotion. He rose from the bed, opened the door, and walked outside.

He was now only a nominal disciple of the Endless Sect. When he had nowhere else to go, he had relied on the sect master’s willingness to shelter him. Since the Soul-Nourishing Fungus was useless to him, he would leave it to the senior sister, the medical cultivator here, to refine into pills.

Outside, daylight had long since brightened the world.

Weisheng Ming walked out of the room and into the clear sunlight, where his steps paused for a moment. His emotions were just as they had been throughout that long thousand years: utterly chaotic. His eyes held neither sorrow nor joy. There was no trace of vitality in them, only a pale, detached stillness, devoid of the spirit of a living person.

When he heard rustling from the spiritual field and distinguished the sounds of water being poured and someone walking about, Weisheng Ming carried the Soul-Nourishing Fungus toward it. But when he drew near, his footsteps gradually slowed.

A figure dressed entirely in black stood within the spiritual field like a shadow. The brilliant daylight rendered her form slightly translucent and hazy, slender and graceful.

The wind stirred the edge of her robes.

The back of the woman facing him resembled neither Wuxilan nor the master of the Endless Sect.