Volume Three: Beyond Carefree Wandering, Chapter Ninety-Three

When Geng Yuan returned to Mount Buzhao, three days had already passed. The disciples he met along the way did not even dare greet him.

The young man looked dreadful, his face dark with gloom, and even the depths of his black eyes burned with savage light.

No one dared come near him.

"Huai Gui, you're back."

Even when Huai Xiu called out to him, he pretended not to hear and walked straight toward the cultivation tower.

Huai Xiu was taken aback. What was this boy up to now?

Ever since the last trial, he had become a legend of Mount Buzhao, and even among the immortal mountains, his name carried some weight. A prodigy, the finest among cultivators of the Dao—glowing praise of every kind had been showered upon him. Huai Xiu had sincerely been happy for his junior brother.

But after the trial ended, Huai Gui vanished without a trace. In fact, this was the first time anyone had seen him since then. Looking in the direction he had gone, Huai Xiu could not help thinking that the boy had not gone mad from cultivation, had he?

The cultivation tower was a place only the top ten disciples of the inner mountain could enter, and under ordinary circumstances it was closed to the other sect disciples of Mount Buzhao. Geng Yuan had only just reached its entrance when Zhao Yao Yi and his group came out.

Ever since what had happened in the Zhi Forest, Zhao Yao Yi’s abuse of Geng Yuan had only grown worse. Yet perhaps because of the curse Jin Li had placed on them, friction within their little clique had become constant.

He did not want to quarrel with them, but Zhao Yao Yi clearly had no intention of letting him off so easily.

"What are you doing here? Oh, right. I almost forgot—your status is different now, so of course you should come practice more often. But do you really think your sword skills make you worthy of being here?"

His words were dripping with mockery.

Geng Yuan did not answer. He simply stayed silent. If the man had finished cursing him out, grown tired, and found it no longer entertaining, then naturally he would leave him alone.

But at that moment, Tu Su Chun reached out and caught his sleeve. "Ah Yi, let's go."

Zhao Yao Yi shot her a sidelong glance, then flared with anger. "Fine. I can let him go, if that’s what you want. But why not have you spar with him?"

Panic flashed in Tu Su Chun’s eyes. She stared at Zhao Yao Yi in shock. "A... Ah Yi... what... what do you mean?"

Zhao Yao Yi shook off her hand and said coldly, "Haven’t you been telling me all along to spare him? Today I’ll give you the chance. As long as you fight him once, if you win, I’ll let him go. If you lose, I’ll still 'let him go.' How about that?"

Before Tu Su Chun could speak, Geng Yuan said first, "Very well."

Tu Su Chun looked at the young man, who wore a calm but severe expression. "Huai Gui, you don't have to—"

"Please."

Before she could finish, the boy cut her off. For a moment, she found herself unable to say another word.

Both of them went up onto the sparring platform. It had been a long time since the platform at Mount Buzhao had seen any real excitement, and now that word had spread that Huai Gui would spar with Tu Su Chun, the place was surrounded so tightly that not a gap could be found.

By the time Huai Xiu arrived, he saw the young man standing on the platform with his hands behind his back, while directly across from him stood Tu Su Chun.

"Huai Gui! What are you doing?! Get down here!"

Geng Yuan cast Huai Xiu a faint glance.

He had to settle this matter now, or there would only be greater trouble later. He did not have the time to waste dancing around with these people.

Tu Su Chun’s swordsmanship ranked among the best on Mount Buzhao, and Zhao Yao Yi stood only just below her.

As for sword cultivation, Geng Yuan did not even have a ranking. If they were to compare swordsmanship, it would be like striking an egg against stone; Geng Yuan would certainly lose.

On the night before the trial, Geng Yuan had only just awakened the fate-bound sword of this body’s former owner, Huai Gui. The two of them were still unfamiliar with one another, and since he did not yet know how to handle things, he could only meet force with force and adapt as he went.

He would answer every move as it came.

The young man stood there in a sharp Qing Mountain training outfit, his hair tied high in a ponytail, his expression cold and stern.

Then he parted his lips.

"Sword!"

A dark sword rang into his hand, the tassel on its hilt a gift from Jin Li.

The blade in his grasp gave off a faint blue glow, even trembling slightly. Whether it was his hand or the sword itself that feared, no one could tell.

A trace of sadness surfaced in Tu Su Chun’s eyes as she said, "Huai Gui, you really needn’t do this. If I go down and speak with him again, Ah Yi won’t trouble you anymore."

But Huai Gui was Huai Gui, and Geng Yuan was Geng Yuan.

He said coolly, "Mount Buzhao sword disciple Huai Gui requests instruction from Senior Sister of the inner mountain."

More and more people gathered below. Tu Su Chun looked troubled, and when she turned her head, she saw Zhao Yao Yi in the crowd, watching the spectacle unfold. In his eyes was a dark warning and threat.

She silently resigned herself to it, letting out a sigh before saying to Geng Yuan, "Huai Gui, let us stop at the point of courtesy."

With that, she merely stood there, raising two fingers. She did not even summon her natal sword.

Was it because she truly looked down on the young man before her, or because he was not worth the trouble of drawing her natal sword?

Though Geng Yuan had been among the best disciples in this trial, Tu Su Chun was also one of them, and even ranked near the very top.

Geng Yuan’s gaze chilled as he looked at Tu Su Chun, who was carefully shielding her abdomen, and for a moment he was baffled.

"Pardon my offense."

His attack was fierce and lightning fast. One could only catch the flicker of a corner of the young man’s robe as it moved. Beneath the ruthless edge of his swordplay, his eyes were already filled with killing intent.

The onlookers broke into a sweat for him, but no matter how fierce the offensive, in the eyes of the inner mountain disciples ranked in the top three of the sword list, it was still child’s play.

Tu Su Chun froze. These moves were nothing like Huai Gui’s former style. They were far too vicious, striking directly for the opponent’s vital points. The young man still wore the same face, but his black eyes were cold and impassive, as though another soul lived within them.

She swept out with a two-finger gesture, and within those blazing crimson immortal shadows, the young man was almost ensnared, nearly unable to break free. He swung with force, and as the sword light whirled upward, its cold blue brilliance flashed in a blur.

The young man wielded his sword and attacked Tu Su Chun again, whose movements remained languid and unhurried. Yet once Geng Yuan matched her footwork into the sword form, it became wondrously intricate. Under that relentless chain of assaults, a trace of panic finally appeared in Tu Su Chun’s eyes.

She was startled by the young man’s swordsmanship and his rate of learning. She stood stunned for a moment, and it was precisely in that instant that a ruthless light flashed through the boy’s eyes.

Then, amid the collective cries of alarm, the young man’s left shoulder was pierced.

He did not strike back. The hilt of his sword ultimately came to rest against Tu Su Chun’s abdomen.

And Tu Su Chun’s natal sword suddenly manifested on its own to defend its master, stabbing straight into the young man’s left shoulder.

Under Tu Su Chun’s shocked gaze, Geng Yuan staggered back. The sword, silver-white and stained with blood, was a shocking sight.

Everyone had expected this ending. It was entirely within expectations.

The young man sheathed his sword and bowed. "I have lost."

"Huai... Huai Gui."

The boy had clearly been able to just now...

She reached up and touched her abdomen.

But just as Geng Yuan was about to leave through the crowd, another streak of sword light shot straight for his vital point.

Geng Yuan’s eyes flashed. He spun up and aside with a step, easily evading the strike.

"Inner mountain disciple Zhao Yao Yi challenges Junior Brother Huai Gui. Will you fight?"

Geng Yuan’s eyes darkened. Tu Su Chun grabbed Zhao Yao Yi. "Ah Yi, enough."

Zhao Yao Yi curled his lips in a sinister smile. "I said I would let him go. What I meant was, I would kill him."

Ignoring Tu Su Chun’s attempt to stop him, he stared down with contempt at the man whose shoulder was half-soaked in blood. With that arm in its present state, he absolutely could not raise that sword again. Absolutely not.

One strike would be enough to crush him.

The young man did not summon his dark sword. His gaze was cold, stripped of all feeling.

"Very well."

His lips had already gone noticeably pale.

Below the platform, Huai Xiu and several senior brothers who had always been close to Huai Gui shouted for him to come down.

The young man’s eyes were ice-cold. Faced with Zhao Yao Yi’s provocation, he could only fight, and he had to win.

Zhao Yao Yi’s swordsmanship was not like Tu Su Chun’s. It carried a sinister venom, impossible to fathom.

Geng Yuan’s shoulder throbbed with pain, and in his present condition, even if he had his natal sword, he likely lacked the strength to lift it.

He could only rely on immortal arts to contend with him. But when dealing with shameless people, if they used dirty tricks, then naturally he could only answer with dirty tricks of his own.

Even so, he had still underestimated Zhao Yao Yi’s shamelessness.

With a spread of his hand, an Immortal-binding rope appeared in Zhao Yao Yi’s grasp.

The crowd cried out in shock. As the rumors had said, Tu Su Chun’s father had truly handed the Immortal-binding rope over to Zhao Yao Yi.

In an instant, Geng Yuan found himself unable to move. Only then did he realize that his body was already covered in wounds great and small, and the ground beneath him had been stained red.

Huai Xiu roared, "Zhao Yao Yi! Stop!"

Zhao Yao Yi paid no heed to his shout and walked up to the young man.

"Kneel."

Beneath the young man’s eyes, killing intent could no longer be hidden.

If the Cangyuan Bow were still here, Zhao Yao Yi would already have been shot full of holes. He would!

Geng Yuan.

Geng Yuan was startled. How could that voice still be inside his body?

How was that possible? Clearly, he was no longer Geng Yuan.

Yet that single simple word was enough to shatter the defenses in Geng Yuan’s heart.

He lowered his gaze. Zhao Yao Yi let out a cold laugh. "I should like to see how much backbone you have left after your immortal marrow is shattered."

The young man said in a hard voice, "Senior Brother Zhao Yao, the winner has not yet been decided."

Then, before anyone could react, in a dazzling blur, several dark swords appeared behind him.

They hovered in the air behind the wounded young man. He lifted his eyes, and in the instant that cold brilliance erupted, the Immortal-binding rope could no longer hold. The next moment, Geng Yuan murmured something under his breath, and the rope, as though it possessed spirit and had recognized its master, was taken into the young man’s hand.

"This Immortal-binding rope actually acknowledged Huai Gui as its master. Then isn't the situation already clear?"

"Sword shadows follow form, icy soul returns; Tai Ran Sword Art, go!"

The several dark swords behind him shot straight toward Zhao Yao Yi. Zhao Yao Yi was too slow to evade.

If Zhao Yao Yi did not die, those swords would never stop.

Huai Xiu looked down at the platform, his brow heavy, at the young man whose eyes were gradually turning crimson.

He was not Huai Gui.