Growth at Sixty-Five

Any artifact of a certain grade would possess a degree of self-awareness; it could choose its own master or abandon one as it pleased. Thus, it was necessary to establish a connection with it upon acquisition—this, of course, referred to a bond of the soul, a precaution against future mishaps. The more precious and treasured the artifact, the more essential this became. Therefore, Jue Yi naturally heeded Muyun's advice and began the process as soon as she returned.

By the time she completed the first cycle, midnight had already fallen. The estate was shrouded in silence; Muyun had only just returned before hurrying off to the ancestral hall, and Bili, too, seemed to have been called away on some matter. Unable to find anyone with whom to share her trepidation and delight, Jue Yi suddenly remembered the master Feng Qing, who had been all but forgotten at the back of her mind.

She tumbled from her bed and, to avoid encountering anyone else, slipped quietly out the back gate of the manor. The night wind had not abated all evening, and Jue Yi had to press down the hem of her dress to keep it in place. Yet the closer she drew to the eastern mountains, the stronger the wind became, and a faint red glow flickered from between the peaks.

Jue Yi quickened her pace, but the scene that met her eyes a short while later left her rooted to the spot.

The red glow was not emanating from within the mountains, but from the land before them. At the heart of a great formation, surrounded by nine elders, was Feng Qing. Standing not far behind the elders were Muyun and Bili.

The Grand Elder spoke, “Now that Jue Yi has obtained the Azure Soul Lamp, she is the one in our tribe with the greatest hope of advancing to the rank of Divine Sovereign. We cannot allow you to destroy her. Even the slightest risk cannot be tolerated. Whether or not you are of our clan, I must, on behalf of us all, offer you my apologies.”

As his words faded, the Grand Elder and his companions began to chant incantations, their forms flickering as they moved around the array. Tremendous waves of power surged, making the elders' forms appear and vanish, and the red light within the array seemed to pulse with a devouring force. From time to time, hands emerged from the ground, clutching at Feng Qing's legs. Only then did Jue Yi come to her senses and rush forward.

“No, Father! Tell the elders to stop! Master would never harm me—he wouldn’t!”

Before she could reach them, Bili held her fast, preventing her from going any further, while Muyun never once turned to look at her. Jue Yi burst into tears, crying out to Feng Qing, “Master, go! Please, just leave!”

But Feng Qing only smiled at her and shook his head. In the next instant, countless bloody hands burst from beneath the runes of the array, each one seizing Feng Qing’s legs and dragging him under. The wind died and silence fell; it was all over in a moment. Only then did Bili release Jue Yi, patting her shoulder in silent comfort. The others departed, as if she were invisible.

Stumbling, Jue Yi made her way to where Feng Qing had stood. As a member of the tribe, how could she not recognize the formation the elders had used? It was a punishment reserved for those who had committed the gravest crimes—why use it on her master? She collapsed to her knees, bowing her head to the ground, mind swirling with memories of every word Feng Qing had ever spoken to her. From childhood to now, aside from Bili and Muyun, it was he who had spent the most time at her side.

What Bili and Muyun would not say, he would explain. What they would not teach, he would impart.

“Why? Father, why did you do this…” Jue Yi’s voice was hoarse as she shouted into the empty wilderness, but there was no reply, not even the barest whisper of wind. Only moments ago she had rejoiced over acquiring the Azure Soul Lamp, and in the blink of an eye, the elders had destroyed her only master for that very reason! Who could tell her why…

A seed of doubt took root in Jue Yi’s heart—a doubt of the clan’s laws she had always revered, a doubt of her father and Bili, whom she had long loved and respected. Her master had simply chosen a different way of life from the rest of the clan—why must he be deemed a monster? Merely because the elders could not fully understand or control him, did he deserve to be branded an outcast? She could not accept such an outcome.

To protect what one cherishes, one must become stronger—stronger, at least, than one’s enemies.

Jue Yi recalled her father’s words; now, she understood them deeply. Yes, it was because she was not strong enough that she could not change anything, could not save her master.

Rising slowly to her feet, her hands clenched into tight fists, Jue Yi made a silent vow: she would become stronger—strong enough to change everything in the clan. She would never allow her master’s tragedy to be repeated.

Upon returning home, she went straight to her room and resumed forging the soul bond with the Azure Soul Lamp. She knew Bili would be keeping watch outside. She did not blame her father or Bili for their choice, yet she could not accept it either. From that day on, Jue Yi seemed transformed, devoting herself wholly to cultivation. The laughter and playfulness of her former days vanished, replaced by a taciturn silence—just like Muyun in years past.

In only fifty years, Jue Yi had become one of the clan’s foremost experts, surpassing even the elders. But it was not enough—she had not yet surpassed her father or the elders who had acted that night.

At last, more than thirty years later, during the next competition for clan leader, Jue Yi succeeded in driving her father from the ring. For the first time since that fateful night, she allowed herself a smile. Walking over to Muyun, she nestled gently into his embrace and said, “Father, I’ve finally grown up, haven’t I?”

“Yes, and I am so proud.” Muyun stroked the back of her head, a faint smile on his lips.

Jue Yi nodded. As she glanced up, she noticed that her father’s hair, which had always been tied at the back, had suddenly turned silver. The ribbon binding it had vanished at some point, and now his silver hair streamed freely in the wind. Tears pricked her eyes. She did not blame her father; her resentment had always been reserved for those elders alone.

Wiping away her tears, she said with a smile, “Father, you should rest now. Such a young face with white hair—how unbecoming!”

“Bili, you’ve always looked after me. From now on, I’ll trouble you to look after Father as well.”

Bili nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears.

Jue Yi turned and departed, becoming the new leader of the clan. Once, she had trusted only three people. But after that night, all her trust was gone. Now, she believed only in herself. Whispering an incantation, she conjured a small spirit in her palm. She longed for revenge, for change within the clan, but knew she could not yet achieve it on her own—and she was done waiting. She needed help.

The Hall of Ephemeral Life was her best option.

At that time, the demon and fiend realms had not yet merged, and neither interfered with the other. Unlike the unified Xiluo Court of the demon realm, the fiend realm’s Hall of Ephemeral Life, though home to several princes, kept aloof from worldly affairs. As a result, the fiend realm was fragmented and chaotic.

A month prior, Jue Yi had learned that someone in the Hall of Ephemeral Life was seeking immortal grass. It grew in the celestial realm, capable of reviving the dead—a specialty of the Ancestral Continent. She did not care whom it was meant to save; as far as she was concerned, having a bargaining chip for negotiation was enough.

The little spirit flew from her hand and vanished in an instant.

Two days later, the spirit returned with a reply: the Ninth Prince of the Hall of Ephemeral Life, Fei Ling, would assist her in exchange for a thousand stalks of immortal grass.

Jue Yi set out for the land where the grass grew. It was almost laughable, or perhaps ironic—the place lay at the foot of the mountains, just opposite the eastern range. She gazed at the sweeping expanse of three- or four-foot-tall immortal grass before her. A thousand stalks—this would be a third of the whole field. Such a harvest would surely be noticed. But at that time, everyone’s attention would be on the elders’ deaths. Jue Yi smiled faintly, raised her sleeve, and cast a barrier over a third of the land, sending her response to the Hall of Ephemeral Life as well.

Yet she had not anticipated that the person she had never intended to meet would appear in her chambers half a month later—not in the flesh, of course.

That day, after tending to clan affairs, Jue Yi returned to her room to find a stranger leafing lazily through her notes. Her surprise lasted only an instant. To infiltrate her chamber undetected and so brazenly peruse the notes she had warded with forbidden seals—Jue Yi quickly realized who her visitor must be.