Chapter 16: Divine Soul

Ye Fangcao eyed him suspiciously. “You beat our Eldest Senior Brother single-handedly until he couldn’t even fight back, and the Immortal Grand Assembly still needs our protection?”

Jiang Jiwang leapt down from the Training Grounds and smacked Ye Fangcao’s bare bald head, saying expressionlessly, “If you can’t talk properly, shut your mouth.”

Smacked again, Ye Fangcao rubbed his head and shot Yi Xuefeng a resentful glare, his eyes full of this is all your fault.

Yi Xuefeng looked utterly innocent.

Jiang Jiwang said, “I heard Sect Master Song has already found suitable candidates for the Little Immortal Lord. Are you certain you want to come with us?”

Yi Xuefeng still remembered Song Jingsheng’s earlier words with the Savage Wilds devil cultivator. Having learned her intentions, he had completely lost whatever goodwill he’d once held toward her—he certainly wasn’t about to have four people who might want his life at any moment trailing him through the Immortal Grand Assembly, a place that demanded vigilance at every turn.

Before Yi Xuefeng could speak, Ye Fangcao protested, displeased: “Senior Brother, that’s a rotten thing to say. Why make it sound like we’re worse than Elder Song’s disciples? Whatever they can do, we can too. Protecting the Little Immortal Lord? We can do that just fine!”

Jiang Jiwang and the other disciples nearby all facepalmed in unison, heads throbbing.

Yi Xuefeng smiled. “Since Master Ye insists, then it’s settled. The morning after tomorrow, I’ll come find you at the Training Grounds.”

Ye Fangcao snapped, “Don’t call me Master Ye—and forget the Training Grounds! The day after tomorrow at dawn, come straight to Cold Huai River’s city gate. Cloudland City arrives over Cold Huai River tomorrow night; we can go straight up via the Teleportation Array then.”

Yi Xuefeng only half understood, but afraid of exposing himself, he didn’t dare ask more. Nodding with feigned composure, he confirmed a few remaining details with them and turned to leave.

The moment he was gone, a crowd of disciples came swarming over, chattering all at once:

“Eldest Senior Brother, are you really going to the Immortal Grand Assembly with that vicious Lin Fuyu? Won’t you reconsider? He’s that eyes-in-the-sky, nose-in-the-air Lin Fuyu!”

“Senior Brother, think it over, think it over, think it over again!”

“Did Lin Fuyu force you? How wicked!”

“Exactly, exactly!”

“…”

Ye Fangcao snorted. “He doesn’t have what it takes to force us! Even towing a dead weight along, we can still take the Champion title!”

Everyone: “…”

Somehow the person who’d been beaten and howling earlier wasn’t you, was it.

After leaving the Training Grounds, Yi Xuefeng didn’t hurry back. Instead, with Huaichen leading the way, he headed for the Library Pavilion.

The Library Pavilion stood in a tall building in the south of Cold Huai River. The wooden structure had been built in a most peculiar fashion—half of it embedded in a massive boulder like a hill, with countless vines spreading down from the rock face and climbing over the entire building.

The guard watching over the Library Pavilion was a white-bearded old man, listlessly staring at yellow flowers on the eaves with a pipe in his mouth. Catching sight of Yi Xuefeng approaching, he let out a mocking snicker.

“Oh my, a rare guest. The Little Immortal Lord actually graces the Library Pavilion with his presence.”

Yi Xuefeng glanced at him without a word.

Huaichen took out Lin Fuyu’s jade pendant and handed it to the old man, saying respectfully, “This is the Little Immortal Lord’s Jade Command Token.”

The old man gave him a look that was half smile, half sneer, then shook the token against his pipe. At a crisp chime, the carved wooden door behind them swung open.

“Go on in. Two hours only. Overstay by so much as a quarter hour, and don’t even think about coming out.”

Yi Xuefeng nodded slightly, took the token, and stepped inside.

The Library Pavilion was packed wall to wall with dense bookshelves. Yi Xuefeng walked for ages and simply could not find a single book that might answer his questions.

He stood there blank-faced, momentarily at a loss as to how one was supposed to fish an answer out of a boundless sea of books.

Just then, a lantern hanging on the wall flickered faintly, and a painted face appeared on the lantern paper, its dark eyes fixing unblinkingly on Yi Xuefeng.

Yi Xuefeng had seen ten thousand strange things in his time; he wasn’t the least bit frightened. Instead, utterly expressionless, he stared right back.

Soon the lantern spoke. “What does Your Excellency seek?”

“The Immortal Grand Assembly.”

The lantern: “Oh.”

The flame within the lantern flickered eerily and abruptly turned a ghostly blue, dancing without pause.

Yi Xuefeng was still wondering what the ghost lantern was playing at when a sharp crack of air split the silence beside him—something came hurtling straight at him.

His pupils contracted. He spun on the spot, arm sweeping out in a knife-hand strike.

A book was cleaved clean in two and dropped to the floor.

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

The lantern: “…”

Yi Xuefeng stared expressionlessly at the ruined book, only belatedly realizing the lantern had been a searching spell.

A mere hundred years, and spells like these were already commonplace?

Yi Xuefeng turned his head, locked eyes with the lantern once more, and said, “The Immortal Grand Assembly.”

The lantern: “…”

Pretending that never happened, are we?!

Daring to be furious but not to say a word, the lantern could only flicker its ghost fire again and draw over a brand-new book.

Yi Xuefeng took it with an outstretched hand, flipped casually through the pages, and found it was exactly what he’d been looking for.

Seeing that his time was nearly up, he didn’t linger, and left with the book in hand.

The old guard glanced at the book in Yi Xuefeng’s hands, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes, but he said nothing more. Taking the token, he tapped it twice before handing it back. “Ten days’ loan. Return it when due.”

Yi Xuefeng nodded, pocketed the token, and left.

Back in his quarters, Yi Xuefeng read half the book on the Immortal Grand Assembly before he barely understood.

Tomorrow night, Cloudland City would drift over Cold Huai River and hover there for twenty-four days. When time was up, everyone had to leave the Secret Realm—otherwise they would be trapped inside for ten years, equivalent to over a hundred years within the Secret Realm itself.

No one wanted to spend a hundred-odd years in an unfamiliar place, empty of people and riddled with danger at every step. And so, most people leapt from Cloudland City on the twentieth day outside—the tenth month within the Secret Realm.

Yi Xuefeng frowned at the book’s dense, convoluted script, suddenly feeling as though he hadn’t slept for a hundred years but a thousand—otherwise, why had the entire world changed so drastically?

Qieyun sat beside him, propping his chin in his hands and watching Yi Xuefeng listlessly. “Dad, it’s already dark. When are you going to finish that thing?”

Yi Xuefeng frowned and pointed at the page. “Help me with this character. I can’t read it.”

Qieyun looked. “Can’t read it either.”

Yi Xuefeng shot him a look. “What am I keeping you around for, then?”

Qieyun pounced, grabbing his arm and shaking it back and forth, whining softly, “Stop reading, stop reading! What’s so fun about books? Let’s go get my Sword Tassel back! A night of dark skies and howling winds—the perfect time for murder and arson, right, Dad?”

Yi Xuefeng closed the book and rubbed his aching brow. “Where on earth did you learn to talk like that? I never taught you any of it.”

Qieyun blinked up at him, pitiful. “Sword Tassel.”

Yi Xuefeng gave in. “Fine. Let me ask around first.”

He pushed out the door, then came running back almost immediately, grabbing Qieyun and hauling him outside.

“Huaichen just told me Sword Venerable Ning has gone to Cold Huai River’s front hall to discuss important business—he won’t be back until midnight at the earliest. Let’s search his quarters now.”

Qieyun cheered at once. “Yes! Dad’s the best!”

And so the best Dad brought his silly son sneaking into Ning Yu’s quarters under cover of night.

Yi Xuefeng slipped lightly in through the window; upon landing, an onrush of frigid wind staggered him, and goosebumps erupted across his entire body.

Yi Xuefeng shuddered. “I-I-I’m c-c-cold…”

Qieyun landed nimbly, cupping a wisp of sword light from his blade into his palm to faintly illuminate the surroundings.

Winter had long passed in Cold Huai River—even with the rainy season lingering, it shouldn’t have been this cold. Yet Ning Yu’s quarters felt like the peak of a snow mountain: the windows and doors were firmly shut, but an icy wind howled in from who knew where.

Yi Xuefeng had always feared the cold. Barely moments after landing, he was already shaking, his hands going numb.

Qieyun hurriedly took his hand, leaned close, and blew two warm breaths over it. “Wait for me. I’ll find it soon.”

Yi Xuefeng nodded, his face drained of color.

Setting the sword light on the table, Qieyun began ransacking the enormous room at top speed.

Yi Xuefeng truly couldn’t bear the cold any longer. He wanted to go outside and wait, but his legs had frozen so stiff he couldn’t move them at all.

Shivering, he pressed a palm and found that some faint warmth still lingered there—his hand hadn’t yet gone completely numb, like shards of ice.

Yi Xuefeng’s eyes grew hazy. He stared at the sword light on the table for a long while before the realization finally struck.

Over a hundred years ago, after one grave injury, his body had become deathly averse to cold—especially on each month’s New Moon Day, when the chill would freeze him solid and rob him of consciousness.

And today was, in fact, New Moon Day.

Back then, not only he—even Ning Yu and Qiu Manxi had all believed it was merely damaged meridians. They had sought out every manner of secret art and Spirit Medicine to treat it, all to no effect whatsoever.

Only after a hundred years, through a twist of fate, did he fully understand: what had been damaged was his Divine Soul.

Even if he Body-Seized ten thousand times over, a wounded Divine Soul could never truly heal.

Yi Xuefeng struggled to brace himself against the table and stay upright, each exhale a cloud of white fog.

“Qie… Qieyun…”

Qieyun, having searched high and low without finding the Sword Tassel, was stomping his foot in frustration. Turning his head by chance, he saw Yi Xuefeng looking as though encased in a layer of frost, his body on the verge of collapse.

Qieyun darted over at once to catch him. “Dad!”

The moment his fingers touched Yi Xuefeng’s arm, the bone-deep cold jolted through him like a lightning strike.

Yi Xuefeng forced out, “We go. Now.”

Qieyun moved to support him and leave at once, his face full of terror. “Isn’t this body Lin Fuyu’s? Why are your old injuries still on it?”

Yi Xuefeng had no breath to spare for explanations. Two forced steps in, his knees buckled, and he bore Qieyun straight to the ground—the two of them collapsing in an undignified heap.

Yi Xuefeng exhaled a mouthful of white fog, gasping, “Seal my Spirit Veins first…”

Otherwise the injuries would only worsen—and if it grew any graver, frost might spread across his entire body, eerie in a way no ordinary person could explain away.

Ning Yu knew his condition inside and out. If they were unlucky enough to cross paths, a single glance might be all it took for him to see through the disguise.

Qieyun was well practiced at sealing Spirit Veins, and promptly obeyed, sealing Yi Xuefeng’s at once.

Eyes closed, Yi Xuefeng let out a soft breath, finally feeling less cold than before.

He struggled to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Qieyun’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t worry, Dad! This time I’ll protect you properly, I swear!”

The words had barely left his mouth when the door suddenly swung open. Ning Yu walked in from outside, brow furrowed, looking rather weary—and failed to notice the uninvited guests in his room at first.

The next moment, he turned and swept his gaze across the room, meeting two pairs of round, bulging eyes dead-on.

Ning Yu: “…”

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

The father-son bond could not withstand even the slightest test. Qieyun, who seconds ago had sworn to protect his Dad, transformed into a hairpin without a single word and vanished into Yi Xuefeng’s sleeve.

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

Already unsteady on his feet, Yi Xuefeng grasped at empty air, staggered two steps—and toppled straight into Ning Yu’s arms.