Chapter 36: Let’s Go Together

“Aren’t you taking this one?”

Yi Jinxiang picked up the bracelet on the table and handed it to Wenren Sheng.

“Isn’t this the one Cangyu gave you?”

Wenren Sheng was slowly packing his bundle with his head down. When he heard “Cangyu,” his wolf ears twitched slightly, and he looked toward Yi Jinxiang.

The bracelet in her hand was still very new. Although there had been a heavy rain earlier, Wenren Sheng had kept it inside his clothes so it did not get wet.

After looking for a moment, Wenren Sheng shook his head.

“No,” he said softly, “it would affect the Mountain God’s cultivation.”

His fate with the Mountain God ended there, so there was no need to keep the token.

Wenren Sheng thought for a long time and realized he truly could not do as his master said—leave both of them suffering from this affection without burden.

He did not want anyone to suffer because of him anymore.

Since the Mountain God chose to leave, he would hide in a place where the Mountain God could not find him, never to meet again.

“……”

Yi Jinxiang was silent for a moment before putting the bracelet back in its place.

“Do as you decide.”

Wenren Sheng cleaned up the room thoroughly, leaving no trace of himself, as if he had never lived there.

Only a small brocade pouch remained on the table. It contained a tuft of the clan leader’s rabbit fur. Wenren Sheng put it away and stuffed it into the innermost layer of his bundle.

“If possible, I’d help you find him in the Heavenly Court,” Yi Jinxiang comforted him by stroking Wenren Sheng’s hair. “But we still need to avoid the spotlight for a while, so we can only leave first.”

“It’s okay, Master. I’ve already let him go,” Wenren Sheng forced a smile. “Thank you for taking me in.”

With that, he slung his bundle over his shoulder and took one last look at the room where he had lived for many years and which had brought him brief happiness.

Then he withdrew his gaze, turned, and pushed open the door.

After the rain came the setting sun. Golden afterglow fell on Wenren Sheng, emitting gentle and warm light.

A nest of rabbits gathered at the door. As soon as they saw Wenren Sheng, they rubbed against his feet. Soon a fluffy circle formed around him, making it hard for him to move an inch.

Yi Jinxiang’s expression soured a bit, but she carefully caught the rabbits one by one and returned them to their nest. She then cast a spell to lift the nest with them inside and stored it in her sleeve.

After that, she fastened the conical hat on Wenren Sheng and said, “Alright, let’s go down the mountain.”

Wenren Sheng held the straps of his shoulder bag with both hands and obediently said, “Mm.”

Xiang City always had plenty of rain in winter. Dusk had cleared briefly, but by nightfall, it started drizzling again.

When Siming arrived with two palace guards, Fragrant Ze Mountain was already deserted.

She gazed at the fox demon before her—chest and back pierced through by Color Kill, barely clinging to life—and gritted her teeth as she raised her hand to slap it.

“Useless!”

The slap woke the fox demon. It suddenly widened its eyes and vomited a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

“Where’s the Heavenly Spiritual Root?” Siming grabbed its ear viciously. “Didn’t you say the Heavenly Spiritual Root committed suicide? Where did he go? Where’s the body?!”

The fox demon breathed heavily twice, propped himself up with effort, and looked at Siming. Panic filled his eyes. “Mas-Master, that Heavenly Spiritual Root—he had Divine Weapons in his hand! I was—”

Pa!

Before he finished speaking, Siming backhanded him with a crisp slap. He mumbled the rest of his words back down his throat.

Siming narrowed her eyes and said coldly, “Who else was with the Heavenly Spiritual Root?”

The fox demon clutched his face. He did not dare delay a moment and quickly said, “Wen-Wenqu Star… I remember there was Wenqu Star…”

“Wenqu Star—”

Siming yanked her hair with one hand and screamed. She looked ready to go mad.

“Again Wenqu Star! I’ll kill you!!”

“I told you he couldn’t possibly be dead,” He Mu said indifferently from nearby. He held his sword and watched Siming lose her mind on the spot. “Wenqu Star is a snake demon, best at hiding traces. You won’t find them.”

Siming then noticed He Mu. Realizing she had lost composure, she immediately reined herself in and resumed her arrogant demeanor.

She said coldly, “Whether we find the Heavenly Spiritual Root is Heavenly Court’s business. It has nothing to do with you, a mere mortal.”

With that, she signaled her palace guards. They prepared to head back to the Palace of Fate.

He Mu glanced down at the fox demon on the ground and casually said, “Aren’t you taking your disciple?”

Siming tsked darkly and stormed past He Mu in fury.

“Do whatever you want with it. I don’t keep trash under me.”

After dropping that line, they rode clouds away and soon vanished into the horizon.

He Mu stood at a distance and stared at the fox demon for a few seconds. Then he straightened up, stepped over the carpet of dry branches and fallen leaves, and slowly approached.

The two slaps from Siming had left the fox demon dazed. One eye was already blind. He crawled on the ground, struggling to pull Color Kill from his back.

He Mu squatted down and waved at him.

“What’s your name?”

The fox demon looked up at He Mu with effort and rasped, “Qian… Qianxiang…”

After losing his divine graven, He Mu’s aura was no longer so ferocious. Someone meeting him for the first time might even find him amiable.

But Qianxiang knew him. He was Fragrant Ze Mountain’s Mountain God, the Heavenly Court’s Martial God.

Even returned to mortality, such a man’s power remained intimidating.

He Mu grabbed Qianxiang’s hair and forced him to look up.

A few hoarse groans escaped Qianxiang’s throat. His remaining eye stared at He Mu in horror.

He Mu smiled and asked, “How long have you been stalking Wenren Sheng?”

“I… cough cough! I…”

“Never mind, change the question,” He Mu said as he tightened his grip on the hair. “The one impersonating ‘Wu Di’ in Return to One Sword Sect—was that you?”

Qianxiang felt his scalp about to tear off. He struggled a few times and urgently said, “Yes-yes, it was me! I stayed in that Sword Sect and incited Chen Lian to capture the Heavenly Spiritual Root. It was all me!”

“I know I was wrong. You—you give me a quick death! You’re an immortal. You can’t just kill people casually. I know—you can give me the sword. I’ll do it myself! Mmph—”

He Mu snorted coldly and slammed his head into the mud.

A quick death?

Wishful thinking.

He Mu stood, circled behind Qianxiang, placed his foot on his shoulder, and slowly drew Color Kill out from his back bit by bit.

Flesh tore. The blocked blood spurted out instantly, splattering He Mu’s body with gore.

He Mu did not dodge. He looked down at the gushing wound.

This sword stroke resembled one he would use—straight to the vitals, clean and precise. Were the fox demon not inhuman, he would already be dead.

It was the technique he taught Wenren Sheng.

He sighed and dulled Color Kill slightly. The serrated edge caught on Qianxiang’s throat.

“As a god, I had to wear a dog chain around my neck, shake an ankle bell to kill, and slap to earn merit.”

He Mu gazed coldly at Qianxiang on the ground and tightened his grip inch by inch.

“Now that I’m no longer a god, I’m free. I can kill whomever I please.”

The blunt blade began its torment of flaying flesh and skin. Agony exploded along every inch, drawing shrill screams from his throat.

“Gurgle—gurgle—”

In the shadows of the dry branches, an owl hooted just in time.

Moonlight mingled with the cold drizzle, soaking the figures under the tree.

After some time, the piercing shrieks faded. He Mu’s wrist sank. He sheathed the Amber Gold Sword, which had drunk its fill of cold light. The blade and sheath emitted a short, trembling note.

His expression remained unchanged, but his eyes beneath the wet hair were murky.

When he returned to the Divine Temple, He Mu found it cleaned spotless.

He first checked the Scripture Pavilion and the mountain spring—places Wenren Sheng frequented. No traces of life lingered there, as if he had always lived alone in the mountains.

Finally, he walked soullessly to Wenren Sheng’s room.

As soon as he entered, he spotted the bracelet he had given Wenren Sheng, left on the table.

He Mu hurriedly picked it up. His fingers stroked the beads, searching for any trace of Wenren Sheng’s spiritual power.

“Shengsheng…”

But after feeling it for a long time, he found nothing. Everything had been wiped clean. Wenren Sheng had slipped silently from his life.

He Mu drew two deep breaths and sat dazed on the bed.

Gone.

Where?

He had boasted so confidently to Siming that no one in the world could find the one Wenqu Star wished to hide. Yet now that knife cut into his own heart.

Was he still alive and well?

When the palace guard reported Wenren Sheng’s death in the Nine Heavens, his mind had gone blank.

Just the mere possibility of Wenren Sheng dying made his body tremble uncontrollably. His heart felt like a thousand cuts. Even breathing became agonizing.

Now mortal, the emotions once sealed by the Emotionless Dao—sorrow, resentment, unrequited love—all seven emotions and six desires returned a thousandfold, nearly suffocating him.

Why had he chosen the wrong dao heart? Why not cut losses in time? Why had one misstep led to endless errors?

On the way back to the Divine Temple, He Mu had seen a tombstone—likely left by Wenren Sheng. Elegant script inscribed “Wenren Jing” upon it.

Wenren Sheng’s first family.

What had he endured during He Mu’s absence?

He Mu stood before the stele for a long time. He pondered countless paths from their meeting to this parting, but none proved perfect.

Every choice was wrong. Every choice led to separation. Every choice ended in eternal parting without resolution.

Fate’s red threads seemed destined to snap.

“…………”

After sitting dazed for an unknown time, He Mu pulled free from the chaos of thoughts. His eyes lifeless, he stared into the empty room.

Wenren Sheng’s usual small bundle was gone too.

He had truly left. He did not wish to see He Mu again.

He Mu slowly closed the bracelet and rested his forehead against his hand. He breathed deeply.

“Sorry, Shengsheng,” he choked out. “Sorry…”

Night deepened.

With Fragrant Ze Mountain still under Heavenly Court vigilance, master and disciple avoided using the Earth Shrinking Technique to draw attention. Instead, they took a small path down the mountain quietly.

Wenren Sheng kept his conical hat low and followed closely behind Yi Jinxiang. He focused his mind on his lightness skill, trying not to dwell on the bad things.

When they passed the old site of Return to One Sword Sect, he slowed slightly, stopped at the gate, and gazed at the weathered door.

Nine years prior, half his heavenly spiritual root had been carved out here.

Back then, he had been alone, without kin, pitifully weak—mere meat on the butcher’s block, covered in blood. Fragrant Ze Mountain had given him a sliver of happiness worth protecting.

Though that happiness proved fleeting, he had lost it before growing strong enough to safeguard it.

Wenren Sheng’s gaze dimmed.

As he lingered in thought, a dog barked nearby.

He followed the sound and saw the guard dog standing at the gate, wagging its tail at him.

Stunned, he hurried over, squatted before the dog, and petted its head.

“Were you waiting for me?”

It let out a soft “woof,” circled his hand on the spot, and nodded.

The gloom in Wenren Sheng’s eyes lifted somewhat. Light returned to his pupils.

He asked softly, “Do you have no home either?”

The dog sat in place, tail wagging, its clear eyes fixed on him.

The heavenly spiritual root allowed Wenren Sheng to sense all things—to hear flowers wither, life ebb, heartbeats grow ever weaker.

Now, he heard the creature’s heartfelt intent.

Like him, it was a wanderer forced from home.

Wenren Sheng smiled gently, scooped the dog into his arms, and stroked its fur softly.

“Then let’s go together.”