Chapter Sixty-Four: The Burial of the Sword

"Seventh Brother! Seventh Brother! Please, stop!" Bai Lian rushed forward, heedless of the blood spraying everywhere, and threw her arms around Yue Qi from behind, halting his movements.

At her words, Yue Qi's body trembled. His eyes grew vacant as he stared at the carnage before him…

Wang Chao’s body was already unrecognizable, riddled with wounds from head to toe. Even those who knew him best would not have recognized him. Not just his chest, but his face, his abdomen—everywhere blood, black and red, oozed out. Yue Qi’s sword was slick with Wang Chao’s blood, clinging to it like a parasite, impossible to remove.

“Seventh Brother! It’s over! We’ve avenged him, we’ve taken our revenge!” Bai Lian’s blue skirt was stained with blood as well, but seeing Yue Qi like this, her heart ached terribly. She held him tightly, tears streaming silently down her cheeks, falling drop by drop into the growing pool of blood.

“It’s done… The revenge is done…” Seeing Bai Lian’s tear-soaked face, Yue Qi’s heart jolted. Since she had joined him, she had never once cried, and yet tonight…

He let the sword fall from his hand, turned, and gently embraced Bai Lian. His stubbled cheek brushed against her hair, but his eyes remained dull, his gaze fixed on a distant point.

Li Qinglan and Li Yuan approached as well; they had seen everything most clearly. After Yue Qi had defeated the puppet, the three of them had come out of the house, only to witness Wang Chao’s desperate counterattack. Hong Ye had stopped them from rushing forward, fearing they’d cause Yue Qi trouble.

Afterwards, Wang Chao was beaten to his knees by Yue Qi. Only then did Hong Ye move forward with them, but halfway there, she seemed to sense something and sprinted madly toward Yue Qi, her sword falling from her grasp.

Everyone saw what happened next: Wang Chao’s last attack, and Hong Ye’s sacrifice for Yue Qi.

“That’s enough, Seventh Brother. Let’s go home… Let’s rest for a while. You’re exhausted, truly exhausted…” Bai Lian cradled Yue Qi’s head, and suddenly, he broke down in sobs, burying his face in her arms as if unable to face the world. He didn’t care that his tears soaked her clothes.

How long had it been since Yue Qi left the mountain? Ever since he’d found his family, he worked tirelessly to find shelter, to keep everyone alive. But who could know the weight he bore? Not even when his parents died had he cried like this. Perhaps now, he wept not only for Hong Ye’s death, but to finally release his own burden.

“Cry, just cry… When the tears are gone, you’ll feel better…” Bai Lian’s eyes were red, though her tears had dried. She gently stroked the back of Yue Qi’s head, murmuring softly, like a mother comforting her child to sleep.

Li Yuan picked up Hong Ye’s fallen sword and walked to Yue Qi’s side. He didn’t speak, nor did he dare. Only now did he realize that Yue Qi was just a boy, not yet grown, who had relied on his own conviction to lead the people of his camp in their struggle to survive.

At some point, the fire on the ground had burned out, leaving only emptiness. The power of the Samadhi True Fire—capable of incinerating all things—had consumed even Hong Ye’s frail body.

Yue Qi gradually calmed, emerging from Bai Lian’s embrace. He cast her an apologetic look, then kissed her gently on the forehead. But when his eyes fell on the patch of scorched earth, he froze again.

"Hong Ye was a good man..." Bai Lian whispered in his ear, not adept at expressing her feelings, but those words were the highest affirmation of Hong Ye’s worth.

Yue Qi said nothing, only nodded. He walked alone to the ashes, and with blood-stained hands, he scooped up a handful, his gaze growing lost and unfocused once more.

"May Hong Ye be reborn into a good family in the next life..." Li Yuan approached, handing Hong Ye’s sole remaining possession to Yue Qi, and spoke softly.

"A good family? Heh..." Yue Qi gave a bitter laugh. "In a world like this, where every day is a struggle for survival, what difference does being born into a good family make?"

A fierce resolve ignited within Yue Qi: he must put an end to this disaster. Never before had he felt such determination, but Hong Ye’s death had shaken him deeply.

How many had died by now? Yue Qi had lost count: father, mother, master, Hong Ye… and countless villagers from Yue Manor. As a cultivator, he believed souls would be reborn, but what of it? Even if his parents were reborn to commoners, they would have to worry about surviving the night as newborns. Yue Qi could not accept such a fate for them. He wished for his parents and all those he knew to be able to live happily after rebirth in this world.

I must become stronger! Never had Yue Qi yearned for power so fiercely. He had never aspired to be a hero, but now, he had no choice but to stand forth—not only for the dead, but more for the living who remained at his side.

Hope burned in his eyes. He glanced at Bai Lian, then took up Hong Ye’s sword and said quietly, “Let us bury him and go home…”

He didn’t know how much suffering Hong Ye had endured in life, but the fact that he had sold himself for vengeance spoke volumes of his hardship. For someone like that to give his life for a promise…

Yue Qi’s eyes blurred with tears again. He dug with his hands, determined to bury Hong Ye well, so that the departed might find peace above.

“Brother Yue, use these…” Li Qinglan appeared with three hoes, likely found in the house. Though he struggled under their weight, he handed them to Li Yuan and Yue Qi, teeth clenched.

Yue Qi nodded to Li Qinglan and began to dig a large pit beside the ashes, each strike of the hoe ringing out. They were digging not just a grave, but a new home for the one who had died.

He swept the ashes into the pit, mixing moist earth with the remains. The air was thick with a scent—was it grief, or hope?

“This sword…” Yue Qi murmured, clutching Hong Ye’s blade. “I’ll bury it with you. Your most cherished possession will keep you company below…” He placed the sword gently into the grave, as if laying Hong Ye’s body to rest.

He raised a small mound over the grave, then found a large stone and set it upright as a headstone.

“Let’s go… One day, we’ll come visit him again…” Bai Lian tugged at Yue Qi’s sleeve and spoke softly.

Yue Qi nodded and was about to leave, when he suddenly turned back to the grave.

Drawing his sword, still sticky with dark blood, he didn’t hesitate. The blade danced, carving several characters into the marble: “The Grave of Hong Ye.”

Not yet satisfied, Yue Qi added two smaller words above: “Beloved Friend,” and then signed his own name.

“Beloved Friend—The Grave of Hong Ye…” Li Yuan stepped forward, reading the inscription aloud. Then he turned to Yue Qi. “Though I did not know Brother Hong Ye long, I respected him. May I ask you to add my name as well?”

“Count me in!” Li Qinglan stepped forward, eyes swollen with tears. Though he and Hong Ye had quarreled often, he admired this loyal and true man from the heart.

Yue Qi nodded, only to find Bai Lian at his side as well.

“Include me too,” Bai Lian said softly. “He was your benefactor, and so he is mine as well. He was your closest friend, and so he is mine.”

Yue Qi’s nose tingled with emotion. He smiled at Bai Lian, then with a flourish of his sword, carved a cluster of small but unmistakable names at the lower right of the headstone.

“Let’s go!” Yue Qi smiled. Together, they turned for home. But before leaving, Yue Qi looked back at the grave, a lingering affection in his eyes.

Upon returning to Qingzhou, many saw Yue Qi and his companions. Though surprise filled their eyes, none sought to stop them—not even Wang Chao’s former followers. They knew their leader was dead. Was there any point in fighting for a dead man?

Such was this world: when the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. Without a leader, they still had to survive.

Yue Qi walked down the middle of the street, the crowd growing around him. Yet now, their gazes held no hostility, only curiosity.

Suddenly, Yue Qi stopped and looked at the assembled crowd. For some reason, his murderous intent had faded to nearly nothing. Since killing Wang Chao and burying Hong Ye, his heart felt clear as never before.

“Everyone…” Yue Qi addressed the crowd, “Live well here in Qingzhou City. Be cautious. If you encounter trouble, seek help in Qinghe Town…”

With that, Yue Qi walked on. After Hong Ye’s death, he had no thought of staying in Qingzhou, despite its stronger walls and richer resources. For Yue Qi, Qinghe Town was home.

The city gates opened. A few zombies, drawn by the noise, tried to enter. Yue Qi dispatched them effortlessly, then nodded to the guards, signaling they could close the gates.

The sun was sinking low as Yue Qi and his companions set out on their journey home—to the place they called home.