Chapter 124: The Evening Moon and the Fierce Blade’s Vow

Night had fallen, and a cool breeze stirred, causing Su Fan to shiver uncontrollably.

Recalling the old farmer's words, the previously despondent look in Su Fan’s eyes ignited with fury—the first time he had felt such rage since the battle at the Three Emperors’ Stronghold.

"Who knows what sin the people of Peach Blossom Creek committed to offend an immortal? Perhaps only by slaughtering everyone there could they vent their wrath."

"I had never heard of a village there before, but that night, the fire was so intense we could see it from here; the entire sky was ablaze."

"Then came the blood, flowing from the little stream. Some brave souls in the village followed the trail of blood to find the source."

"It is said that everything there was covered in blood. None of the villagers had heads; their heads were piled up by the tree at the village entrance."

"Some were disemboweled, their limbs missing, or left with only their upper bodies."

As Su Fan recalled the old man's words, his body trembled, and he nearly collapsed into the stream. He walked along the water, heading toward the source of the blood, toward Peach Blossom Creek. He did not believe it was divine punishment, and he certainly did not believe it was the work of so-called immortals. They were nothing more than a gang of bandits coveting the Sacred Spring.

By midnight, he was still following the stream; thanks to the trail of blood, there was no fear of losing his way. Before dawn, he reached the village. A chilling silence hung over the place—or rather, a deathly stillness. Su Fan forced himself to walk deeper into the creek, a wave of dizziness flooding his mind.

It was indeed blood—the blood of the villagers of Peach Blossom Creek. From their attire, Su Fan could still identify a gentle old gentleman from the village, or a sweet, innocent child. Suppressing the rage in his heart, he hurried into the pile of corpses, searching frantically. He still clung to a glimmer of hope that the village elder and the young girl might be alive. At the very least, the old man had been his benefactor, and the girl had been kind to him. That he had not yet been able to repay them before this tragedy struck filled Su Fan with immense guilt.

However, no matter how many bodies he turned over, he could not find the old man or the girl. Su Fan suddenly collapsed, like a man who had lost his soul, devoid of any emotion. After a long while, he began to laugh—a laugh that grew louder and louder. Beneath the laughter were tears, unstoppable tears, shed either for the innocent souls before him or for the ones he could not find. Exhausted from his hysterical laughter, he would lie among the dead in silence, only to rise again and laugh once more when the silence became unbearable.

The morning sun shone on Su Fan’s face for the first time, and he stopped laughing. Wearily, he stood up and silently carried all the corpses to a house that had not yet been burned. The peach blossoms before the house had withered, and who knew when the barren branches would bloom again. Once Su Fan set the house ablaze, he stared blankly at the now-charred Peach Blossom Creek—that once-peaceful, dreamlike sanctuary.

Beneath his resolute gaze lay a face that promised retribution, a face of one who would keep his word and settle every debt. "As long as I, Su Fan, live," he declared firmly, "I will hunt down everyone involved in this, and I will use their blood to appease your departed souls."

With that, Su Fan turned to leave, walking the path he had come, setting out on a journey of vengeance. Yet, he was not entirely satisfied. He paused for a moment and headed toward the Sacred Spring. If their goal was the spring, they would have left a trail, giving him a better chance to find his enemies. Even if they were cultivators, they would have flaws, and where there were flaws, there were clues.

Driven by urgency, he quickly arrived near the Sacred Spring. The surroundings had not changed much, save for the peach blossoms scattered and drifting in the wind. Using the little strength he had as a mortal, Su Fan pushed aside the charred peach trees. Beneath them lay three bodies. They were dressed in black, clutching curved blades, appearing as though they had been crushed by the trees themselves.

Su Fan’s expression grew grave. He knelt down slowly to examine the intact bodies. On the carotid arteries of all three, there was a minute mark, now a vivid red, the color of the peach blossoms. A scene flashed through Su Fan’s mind: the three men had attempted to break into the peach grove, only to trigger a hidden defense. Someone had unleashed three projectiles, slicing their arteries and causing them to bleed to death. Moreover, the weapons were not ordinary, preventing the wounds from healing.

They were dead, but who was the killer? No villager in Peach Blossom Creek possessed such skill. The village elder could not have done it. Han Xiaoyue? Su Fan smiled bitterly, praying she was safe. Could it be the Saintess of Peach Blossom? At this thought, Su Fan called out, "Saintess, if you are here, please show yourself."

His voice fell into the void, unable to dispel the loneliness. Only the cawing of crows in the sky answered him.

Su Fan gave up and continued to observe the three corpses, hoping for a clue. Beneath the black clothing, there was nothing unusual—standard mortal garments, ordinary accessories. Su Fan shook his head in disappointment, but just as he was about to stand up, he was drawn to a common jade ornament on one of them.

He picked it up. It was a simple jade pendant. Su Fan examined it curiously. It was odd for a cultivator to carry such a mundane item; one might be a keepsake, but for all three to have them was suspicious. The pendant was engraved with a flame motif—a simple design common among mortals. Beneath the flame, the characters for "Blazing Fire Sect" were faintly visible. Though the calligraphy lacked any magical formations or seals, it carried a power that chilled the soul.

Su Fan gripped the pendant tightly, his gaze turning icy. He stood up and took one last look at this peach blossom sanctuary, now the burial ground of kind-hearted villagers. With a cold smile, he quietly left the silent village to fulfill his vow.

...

Once he stepped out of Peach Blossom Creek, Su Fan’s grim expression vanished, replaced by a kind and gentle face. Only with a gentle demeanor could he find a way to restore his cultivation. His current goal was to find a cultivation sect, trade for pills to hasten his recovery, and then...

After inquiring along the way, Su Fan realized he was not in Tianyuan County, but in a place called Yongle County, where it was said there were cultivation sects nearby. After some investigation, he identified a sect called the Xuanji Sect.

Along the way, the mountain flora grew sparse, likely due to the dropping temperature. The mountain was high; it seemed many sects loved to build their gates in cold, lofty places to display their status. As he moved forward, the crowd grew larger. From their conversations, he gathered they were all here for the entrance trials for outer disciples. Su Fan felt a surge of joy. With his experience and abilities, such a trial would be no problem at all.