Chapter 105: That Year of Fireworks and Rain, My Solitary Sorrow (Part Two)

Su Fan no longer questioned Xiao Liu, for Xiao Liu had already fallen asleep mid-sentence. A haze of confusion and sorrow clouded Su Fan’s heart, leaving him uncertain of what to do next.

The shop’s solitary table sat empty. Su Fan took small, measured steps toward it and seated himself. From this vantage point, he could just make out the scene beyond the window.

Curiously, though they were underground, he could still see the outside world—the mist-shrouded Old Wine Street, blurred by a gentle rain.

The fine drizzle fell unceasingly, like silk threads. Moss blanketed the steps before the house and spread across the roof, serving as a natural deterrent against petty thieves.

Occasionally, a few children played in the rain-soaked earth, their laughter piercing the drizzle. Soon, stern adults emerged, umbrellas in hand, scolding the youngsters. Startled but unafraid, the children reluctantly sought shelter beneath the eaves with their guardians.

At last, Su Fan understood why the rain persisted without pause. It was the manifestation of the sealing formation’s power—each drop imbued with immense force. Should the formation’s master will it, these falling droplets could obliterate any living soul.

Yet if he did not, the rain remained innocuous, hidden from all perception. Su Fan had only discerned this truth through fragments overheard from the Drunken Immortal; such secrets were never openly shared.

Suddenly, Su Fan noticed a plum tree growing just outside the Drunken Immortal’s abode, under the misty rain. Yet the tree was withered—perhaps from prolonged soaking, or simply because its season had yet to come.

“What are you looking at?” came a voice.

Snapping back to reality, Su Fan turned toward Lin Xiaofeng sitting beside him and smiled faintly. “The rain,” he replied calmly.

Lin Xiaofeng found it dull and merely shook his head. “What you seek to know may soon be revealed,” he said casually.

Though spoken lightly, Su Fan’s heart leapt. He had long suspected such secrets would come to light, but not so swiftly.

“Where?” Su Fan suppressed his astonishment and asked.

“Sky Origin Sect,” Lin Xiaofeng answered seriously.

Su Fan lifted his cup, drained it in one gulp, and swiftly exited the Drunken Immortal’s residence. “I’m leaving,” he said.

Lin Xiaofeng snorted to himself, murmuring, “With your current cultivation, how many times will you die trying to reach Sky Origin Sect?”

Lin Xiaofeng followed Su Fan but did not inform Xiao Lin or Qin Yu. Only with them remaining behind could Su Fan feel assured. Though both possessed formidable strength, the situation was far from simple.

…

Sky Origin Sect

Beyond the Red Mountain’s rear, outside the Seven-Color Cave.

An old man clad in red stood panting heavily before the cave’s entrance, evidently drained of great energy. Facing him were two elders—the one in green and the other in blue.

Both bore bloodstains on their garments, though it was unclear if the blood was theirs or that of the red-clad elder. Yet seeing the fallen red disciples behind them made the source evident.

The battle was fierce; the trio was locked in combat. The red elder was clearly at a disadvantage, while the green and blue elders, whose strength rivaled his own, combined their might to keep him on the defensive.

Despite facing mortal peril, the red elder’s expression remained composed, revealing the cunning born of many years.

Suddenly, he laughed aloud. “I am not slain by enemies, but by my own brethren,” he declared.

At mention of foes, the blue and green elders glanced toward the distance, where a violent skirmish unfolded before the Sky Origin Sect’s main hall. A horde of mysterious gray-robed figures, mingled with black-armored troops, ravaged the sect.

The blue elder’s eyes darkened with fury. “If not for you, this enemy would not exist,” he spat.

The green elder pressed, “Did you arrange for your disciple Qin Yu’s death?”

The red elder sneered. “Fools. These invaders clearly seek to destroy Sky Origin Sect. Yet instead of resisting them, you come here to kill me. How laughable. As for your disciple—he and Xiao Lin conspired to kill Hong Lan.”

Blue elder roared, “You dare speak of Xiao Lin? Today, I avenge him!”

With that, a streak of blue light sliced through the sky, aimed straight at the red elder. Dodging swiftly, the red elder shouted, “Junior brother, let us retreat from the enemy first, then settle this!”

Green elder scoffed coldly, “Only by killing you will the enemy retreat. Wu Ming came for you.”

Drawing a crystalline sword that shimmered like ice, the green elder unleashed a cataclysmic force, sweeping across the rear mountain. The red elder’s eyes sharpened, prepared to evade.

The blue elder circled behind, swinging his sleeve to strike at the red elder’s left shoulder. Anticipating the move, the red elder lightly evaded.

The red elder turned and struck out with a palm, catching the blue elder unprepared and sending him flying backward. Then, with two fingers, he grasped the green elder’s incoming sword and pushed forcefully, knocking him back as well.

His gaze dark and fierce, the red elder released a small sword that glimmered sharply. The blade multiplied into two, each targeting the two elders on the ground.

Both were still recovering and unable to move. The red elder taunted, “Once I enter the Seven-Color Hall and master the ancestral technique, I will hunt down these remnants. Then you two may rest in peace.”

The twin swords pierced all obstacles and struck the hearts of the two elders. Yet the red elder spat blood; nearby stood a woman clad in red, bow in hand.

Turning to her, the red elder’s eyes landed on the bow. A faint smile touched his lips. “I gave this to you on your first journey to gain experience.”

The woman was Hong Lan. Though the red elder did not question her resurrection, it only deepened the green and blue elders’ conviction that Hong Lan had slain their disciples.

Though stabbed through the heart, the two elders, fueled by rage, suddenly rose and lunged at the red elder, pierced by the arrow. The three trembled violently.

Hong Lan’s gaze was vacant, like a puppet’s. Mechanically, she nocked another arrow and fired, piercing the red elder’s heart again.

The red elder smiled faintly, eyes fixed on the distance. Blue and green elders were dumbfounded—their long-time senior brother, the sect leader, was dying here.

He murmured toward the horizon, “You think me harsh, a true villain. But do you not see that the greatest threat is the hypocrite?”

The swirling red mist in the void dissipated, vanishing after centuries. In its place, a softer yet more chilling purple fog emerged.

Perhaps due to its density, rain began to fall from the sky. The droplets washed over the red elder’s bloodied form. He did not flinch but let the rain cleanse him.

As if to recount this tragic tale—or mock his sorrow.

An elder in purple stepped through the rain toward the blue and green elders.