SS CH89

Ye Fusheng followed Duanqing back to the Eastern Mausoleum.

He had accepted Xie Wuyi’s request, so naturally, he couldn’t just dump the child at the Hundred Ghosts Sect forever. He brought Xie Li along, and fortunately, the child was sensible, obedient, and never caused trouble, leaving Ye Fusheng with absolutely nothing to worry about on his end.

While the ten-year-old child was incredibly obedient, Chu Xiwei was far harder to fool.

Ye Fusheng had half a mind to avoid him for a few days, but leaving without saying goodbye was truly unjustifiable. Yet, if they actually met face-to-face, the awkwardness would be unavoidable.

He was unusually conflicted and annoyed, but when the day of departure arrived, he didn’t even catch a glimpse of Chu Xiwei.

Although Shen Wuduan had already become the retired Old Sect Master, the actual power of the Hundred Ghosts Sect remained in his grasp. Over the past two years, he had gradually delegated authority to Chu Xiwei—partly as training, partly as a test.

Chu Xiwei had done very well, but not well enough.

The Southern Scholar was dead, but the trouble he left behind was immensely massive. It was no longer a simple Jianghu grudge. The slightest misstep would suck them into eternal damnation. One must realize that no matter how powerful the Hundred Ghosts Sect was, against the might of a nation, they were still like an ant trying to shake a massive tree. They absolutely could not be careless.

Chu Xiwei rested for only a single day. The moment he recovered his breath, he led Sun Minfeng, Qin Lanshang, and Lu Mingyuan out of Netherworld Valley to make arrangements. Even though Ye Fusheng never interfered in their sect’s internal affairs, he knew they had encountered incredibly thorny trouble this time.

Because the matter was so urgent, Chu Xiwei hadn’t even had time to bid Ye Fusheng farewell, and Ye Fusheng hadn’t managed to catch up to send him off. The two simply parted ways in this clean, yet utterly unsatisfied manner. Their parting remained unresolved, leaving a lingering attachment in its wake.

This time, Chu Xiwei took the Severed Water Saber, returning the Jinghong Blade to its rightful owner. To this day, Ye Fusheng didn’t know why Chu Xiwei had been so obsessed with the Severed Water Saber before. But when he finally picked up the Jinghong Blade again, it felt like reclaiming a lost piece of his own soul. The moment cold iron met warm flesh, it felt as natural as blood dissolving in water.

He hung the Jinghong Blade back at his waist. Seeing that Duanqing had finished bidding Shen Wuduan farewell, he spurred his horse and followed.

Not very good at riding, Xie Li obediently shared a horse with Ye Fusheng, silently reciting internal energy cultivation chants as they traveled. Spurring his horse to catch up and ride shoulder-to-shoulder with Duanqing, Ye Fusheng glanced back at the retreating silhouette of Netherworld Valley. “Is Shifu not going to say a few more words to Senior Shen?”

“A thousand words are completely understood between two hearts. He knows, and I know. Saying more is meaningless.” After a pause, Duanqing cast him a glance. “Where in life do people not meet again? You should look at it more openly.”

Ye Fusheng choked on his words. He carefully scrutinized Duanqing’s expression, but the Daoist, whose joy and anger had always been impossible to discern even back then, now possessed even more profound cultivation. After staring for a long time, Ye Fusheng couldn’t figure out a single thing, making him feel even more uneasy.

This anxiety, mixed with a guilty conscience, lasted for the entire journey. Taking Xie Li’s young age into account, they didn’t push their pace, finally arriving in the Eastern Mausoleum territory after more than ten days.

Restricted by his identity, Ye Fusheng had spent the past ten years bouncing between the Heavenly Capital and the northern border; this was his first time in the Eastern Mausoleum. Perhaps because it was close to the sea, the local customs were more open compared to the inland southwest. With goods and trade bustling everywhere, it looked like a scene of absolute prosperity.

Four years ago, defying all opposition, Chu Xun had opened up shipping and maritime trade. Back then, who knew how many people had questioned him. But looking at it now, the benefits had finally outweighed the drawbacks.

Being a child at heart, Xie Li was inevitably curious. Since Duanqing didn’t rush them, Ye Fusheng indulged the boy. The three spent two days wandering the bustling markets and then traveled for another five days before finally arriving at Wangchen Peak.

Ye Fusheng had originally imagined Wangchen Peak to be just a mountain peak—perhaps standing solitary against the clouds, or coiled upon the earth like a dragon. He imagined the Supreme Palace nestled within to be like a dwelling of immortals from a storybook, hidden deep within the clouds, with exotic incense battling the wind and pavilions carved of jade.

The reality vastly exceeded his expectations.

Wangchen Peak was indeed a mountain peak, but it wasn’t exceedingly tall or imposing. A long river that never dried up year-round flowed around it, and beyond the river stood three taller peaks, perfectly aligning with the Heaven, Earth, and Human triad positions to conceal the central Wangchen Peak. Combined with the permeating mist and roaring azure waves, it was impossible to discern its true appearance even when spying from all three sides.

It was currently deep autumn nearing winter, yet the mountains were still covered in pine and cypress trees, their undiminished greenery adding to the profound tranquility. The moment Ye Fusheng and Xie Li stepped inside, a cool, refreshing mountain breeze washed over them, relaxing the mind. Occasional insect chirps, their sources unknown, added a touch of vitality to this pure, quiet land.

While Xie Li noticed nothing, Ye Fusheng spotted the anomaly. Biting his tongue lightly, he closed his eyes and opened them again. Ahead, Duanqing had stopped and was quietly looking back.

The mountain forest before his eyes remained the same, yet the profound stillness that almost made one feel assimilated into heaven and earth had vanished. Startled, Ye Fusheng realized that this seemingly peaceful and quiet forest actually concealed profound mysteries.

It was naturally formed into an illusory array, then manually adjusted by shifting vegetation and rocks to contain the variations of Qimen Dunjia. If an outsider entered, they would be trapped by the formation, entirely unable to remember the path they took. No wonder the Supreme Palace had been able to hide from the world for so many years.

Seeing him wake up, Duanqing resumed walking, quickly leading them out of the forest. Upon reaching the mountainside, Duanqing untied his jade flute, channeled his internal energy, and blew a single note. The flute’s sound was clear and distant, and amplified by internal energy, its echoes spiraled endlessly through the mountains.

Suddenly noticing a shift in the wind, Ye Fusheng looked up to see two young men dressed as Daoists descending a hidden stone staircase. Though they didn’t seem to walk quickly, they arrived before them in no time.

Spotting the outsiders, the two men withdrew their gaze after a single glance. Bowing first to Duanqing, they said, “Elder, ever since the Young Palace Master received your letter, he ordered us to watch the mountain gate. Today, we have finally awaited your return.”

Duanqing nodded, skipping any polite pleasantries. “I have brought my disciple back. Take them to the ‘Qishuang Courtyard’. I will go see the Young Palace Master first.”

Bowing deeply, the two men replied, “Yes.”

Patting Xie Li’s head to comfort the slightly anxious and timid child, Ye Fusheng met Duanqing’s gaze and said, “Please go ahead.”

In front of outsiders, he absolutely could not use such an intimate term as “Shifu”. Even though Duanqing wouldn’t mind, judging by the attitude of these two men, Duanqing held immense status within the Supreme Palace. No matter how unrestrained Ye Fusheng was, he wasn’t completely brainless.

Humming softly in acknowledgment, Duanqing went on ahead alone. Once his silhouette vanished into the vast scenery, the two young Daoists brought their hands together in a formal greeting. “Please follow us, you two.”

The location of the Qishuang Courtyard was incredibly remote, tucked into an obscure corner on the back mountain of Wangchen Peak. Shielded by the mountain forest and encircled by a creek behind it, its high elevation and the approaching winter left the ground covered in unthawed frost, radiating a bone-deep, chilling cold.

Even though Xie Li wore thick clothes, he still couldn’t withstand the bizarre chill and couldn’t stop himself from sneezing. Bending down to pick the boy up, Ye Fusheng smiled at the two Daoists. “This would be an excellent place to escape the summer heat.”

The slightly chubbier Daoist on the left, looking quite open-minded and amiable, replied, “Martial Uncle has just arrived and doesn’t know. There is a freezing pool in this courtyard. Although it was mostly filled in later, the coldness hasn’t diminished. Disciples with weaker internal energy easily contract cold illnesses if they stay here too long, so very few people ever come here normally.”

Since Duanqing referred to Ye Fusheng as his “disciple,” it was fitting for them to address Ye Fusheng as “Martial Uncle.” However, Ye Fusheng was rather surprised. “This isn’t a guest room?”

The tall, thin Daoist on the right shook his head. “This is Elder Duanqing’s residence.”

The main hall of the Supreme Palace was at the peak of the mountain, where the Palace Master and the Elders resided. The disciples’ quarters were scattered below it. Ye Fusheng had naturally assumed Duanqing also lived in a quiet room at the summit. He never expected his Shifu to stray from the beaten path and choose such an isolated, desolate place. For a moment, he couldn’t begin to fathom what the man was thinking.

Upon reaching the courtyard gate, the short, chubby Daoist stopped. “We are not permitted to enter the Elder’s courtyard without permission, so we can only escort you this far. Please make yourselves at home. We will return to guard the mountain gate.”

Ye Fusheng thanked them. Watching the two walk far away, he turned and pushed open the wooden door.

The Qishuang Courtyard wasn’t large; it wasn’t even half the size of the Fuxue Courtyard. For the status of a sect elder, it was truly rather shabby. What’s more, it contained only two utterly plain wooden cabins and a single plum tree in the courtyard. It could practically be considered impoverished.

Stepping inside the gate, the cold became even more pronounced. Even though the freezing pool had been mostly filled, the extreme chill accumulated over millennia still lingered. Carrying Xie Li, Ye Fusheng didn’t linger in the courtyard and directly entered the bedroom on the left.

The bedroom was just as chilling. It was likely meant to double as a study, completely lacking even a fire stove. Ye Fusheng had no choice but to set Xie Li down on a stool and transfer some of his fiery Yang internal energy into the boy, finally bringing him some warmth.

Xie Li was a good child. Once his body warmed up, he stopped sitting still like a corpse and hopped down to practice a set of fist forms in the room to get his sluggish blood flowing. Seeing the boy acclimate, Ye Fusheng gave him a quick instruction, turned, and left the room.

The room on the right was for martial arts practice, entirely devoid of furnishings save for a meditation cushion. The more Ye Fusheng looked, the more he felt that Duanqing’s life here was incredibly dull compared to their time on Feiyun Peak. Shaking his head, he went to examine the cave that occupied the majority of the courtyard’s central space.

Built against the mountain, the Qishuang Courtyard had a wooden cabin on either side, but the center was a manually excavated cave, sealed with a heavy iron door that blocked out almost all prying eyes.

Ye Fusheng walked over and searched for a while before finding a key hidden beneath the base of an eternal lamp by the door. The moment he pushed the door open, a burst of white mist billowed from the crack. Caught off guard, Ye Fusheng shuddered violently from the freezing cold. If someone with his current foundation of internal energy felt the chill, one could only imagine how terrifyingly cold the interior of the cave was.

Rubbing his arms, he slipped inside.

The cave had been carved incredibly smooth, completely devoid of hanging jagged rocks. However, there were no torches set up, making it inevitably dim. Ye Fusheng groped his way far inside before finally seeing a lustrous green glow.

It was a night pearl.

A night pearl the size of an infant’s fist sat upon a lamp stand, illuminating a small patch of space around it, finally allowing Ye Fusheng to see the secret hidden within the cave.

The deepest part of the cave was very spacious. In the very center lay a freezing pool roughly ten feet in diameter. Its chill rolled off it like mist, biting to the touch. This was likely the part of the pool that had never been filled in. The coldness sank into the bone, nearly freezing the surrounding rock walls solid with white frost.

Above the freezing pool rested a stone platform, upon which sat an ice coffin. Placed in this dark, cold place that hadn’t seen the sun in years, and anchored by a natural freezing pool, it showed no signs of melting.

Ye Fusheng suddenly felt a surge of panic.

Tossed about by fate and human emotion for half his life, he had hovered between life and death more times than he could count, yet he hadn’t felt this kind of panic in a very long time.

It wasn’t nervousness; it was an uncontrollable, terrifying fear rising straight from the bottom of his heart.

What was he afraid of?

Why should he be afraid?

Ye Fusheng’s heart pounded wildly. He leaped onto the edge of the stone platform. Ignoring the piercing cold, his palm swept away the congealed frost on the coffin lid, inch by inch, revealing the true face hidden beneath.

Inside the coffin lay a woman. He didn’t know how long she had been lying there, but her body showed no signs of decay, and her skin and hair hadn’t withered excessively. She looked perfectly fine.

She appeared to be in her thirties or forties. Her hands were folded over her abdomen, her plain clothes draped with loose hair. Her features were not exceptionally bright or beautiful, and with her eyes tightly closed, she looked rather plain and ordinary.

Yet, this face was one that Gu Xiao had gazed upon thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of times back then. It was etched deeply into his heart, making her look far more beautiful to him than any peerless beauty in the world.

His palm froze. Staring blankly at the woman beneath the ice coffin, his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but his throat was choked, unable to utter a single word.

His pupils shrank, his eyelashes trembled, and his gaze greedily swept over every inch of the woman’s body. Yet the blood and grime from his final memories of her had all been washed completely clean; there wasn’t a single thing that stung his eyes.

Ye Fusheng’s gaze finally settled on her face.

The corners of the woman’s mouth were slightly curved upward. In the lingering moments of her life, she must have been smiling. The smile had never faded, remaining etched upon her face forever, even in death.

“She passed away with a smile.” Duanqing had arrived unnoticed. Standing beside Ye Fusheng, he looked at the woman in the ice coffin and said softly, “Qifang, Xiao’er has returned.”