At those words, He Xing remembered how most people who had ever coveted Lin Zhuoyu had been dealt with savagely by Yan Su, and his face cycled through a whole kaleidoscope of colors.
He scrambled away on all fours, terrified Eldest Senior Brother would mount his head on a pike as a warning to others.
Just then, the elder’s Dao Attendant approached carrying a serving tray, calling out as he came, “Congratulations to Senior Brother He on winning the Grand Tournament championship. This is the prize—the Heart-Mirror Jade… Hm? Senior Brother He? Senior Brother He, why are you kneeling on the ground?! And why are you making faces?!”
He Xing: “…”
He Xing could bend when he must. Solemnly, he declared, “Eldest Senior Brother, I know I was wrong.”
Yan Su’s cold tone chilled the blood. “Wrong in what way?”
“Even if the Three Realms perish, Eldest Senior Brother would surely survive.”
Lin Zhuoyu: “HAHAHA!”
Yan Su looked at him.
Lin Zhuoyu pressed his lips together and stopped laughing.
Yan Su looked indifferently at the suffocated Tiger Demon and said, apropos of nothing, “It’s bait. Where did you find it?”
He Xing blinked blankly. “Huh?”
It dawned on Lin Zhuoyu, who shot He Xing a disgusted glare. “Eldest Senior Brother means: the Demon Suppression Bureau has been hunting a Great Demon that eats people’s heads. This Tiger Demon was bait released to trace it back to the Great Demon’s lair. Yesterday, the Bureau suddenly lost track of it—and who would have thought you’d gone and caught it.”
He Xing: “?”
How on earth did he figure all that out?!
He Xing said stiffly, “I-it was near Linchuan City.”
Yan Su sent a message to the Demon Suppression Bureau via a jade slip.
The Dao Attendant holding the prize blinked. “Then the championship…”
He Xing, well accustomed to beatings, gathered his courage, sprang up, and snatched the Heart-Mirror Jade. “The elder already proclaimed me champion before the whole sect—there’s no taking it back. I’m keeping the Heart-Mirror Jade.”
The Dao Attendant glanced at Yan Su.
Yan Su couldn’t be bothered, expressionlessly probing the Tiger Demon in the water.
The Dao Attendant said nothing more, bowed to Lin Zhuoyu, and left.
Seeing Eldest Senior Brother busy examining the Tiger Demon and apparently letting the matter drop, He Xing scrambled up—never learning his lesson—clutched the translucent Heart-Mirror Jade, and said slyly to Lin Zhuoyu, “I heard you’re missing a piece of Heart-Mirror Jade for refining an artifact. Want your senior brother to gift it to you?”
Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes lit up, his disgust instantly forgotten. “Yes yes yes! Thank you, Senior Brother He!”
Yan Su’s movements stilled; he turned sideways to look.
He Xing grinned. “Heh. You say you want it, but what if I don’t give it?”
Lin Zhuoyu reasoned earnestly, “Your artifact is the Fire Shed—it conflicts with the water nature of the Heart-Mirror Jade. Keeping it is useless. Give it to me, give it to me, I’m begging you, Senior Brother He.”
He Xing kept a straight face, cleared his throat, and relented with great magnanimity. “Fine. Since you begged so hard. How about this—I gift you the Heart-Mirror Jade, and next month’s sect expedition, we go together.”
Lin Zhuoyu: “Deal.”
He Xing was overjoyed and handed the Heart-Mirror Jade over.
Lin Zhuoyu had searched half a year for the Heart-Mirror Jade and had finally gathered all the materials for his artifact. He reached out eagerly—but an ice-cold hand suddenly seized his wrist and pulled it back, a mixture of snow, ice, and iron washing over him.
Yan Su had come over at some point, ghost-silent, without a single footstep.
He swept a glance over the Heart-Mirror Jade in He Xing’s hand and said coldly, “There is no need to trouble Junior Brother He to part with a treasure.”
He Xing, emboldened, tried again. “I-it’s not that much of a treasure.”
Lin Zhuoyu was still gazing longingly at the Heart-Mirror Jade. Yan Su’s cool fingers touched his chin, turning his gaze away, and then pressed a redwood box carved with sigils into his hand.
Curious, Lin Zhuoyu opened it—and inside lay two translucent pieces of warm jade.
The Heart-Mirror Jade.
Lin Zhuoyu instantly forgot He Xing existed, taking the box with a crow of delight. “One piece alone is a rare find, yet you found two of the same origin? You didn’t come back to the sect last month—was that to search for the Heart-Mirror Jade?”
Yan Su: “Mm.”
Lin Zhuoyu’s sweet words flowed free of charge. “Eldest Senior Brother! You are the best senior brother in the world. That fellow surnamed He can’t even compare.”
The fellow surnamed He: “…”
He Xing mooed and fled.
Yan Su commanded immense prestige on Floating Jade Mountain; the onlooking disciples had long since scattered, leaving only two people and one demon.
Yan Su said, “Release it.”
Lin Zhuoyu said “oh” and snapped his fingers lightly. The water wrapping the Tiger Demon instantly withdrew, coiling like a ribbon around Lin Zhuoyu’s arm.
The Tiger Demon, suddenly able to breathe again, snapped its eyes open and made to devour someone.
But the instant its gaze landed on Yan Su, a terror welling from the depths of its soul set every limb trembling.
It struggled violently upright, and though it wore a beast’s body, it could speak human words like a Great Demon, hoarse with venom and hatred.
“Yan Linyuan…”
No emotion stirred in Yan Su’s eyes, as if he were looking at a cold, dead thing.
The Tiger Demon’s body stiffened instinctively.
All demonkind in this world both hated and feared this man.
“You… slaughtered my kin. One day…”
Yan Su seemed long used to the vicious curses of demons. A large palm pressed down on Lin Zhuoyu’s head, turning the boy to face away; then, with a careless flick, he moved his sword.
The sword left its sheath by half an inch. A blinding, snow-white sword light crashed forward with world-ending force.
Boom.
The Tiger Demon’s protective Restriction—which had blocked He Xing’s full strike—broke against Yan Su’s sword light like paper. In the instant of shattering glass, the Tiger Demon’s body was cut into countless fine pieces of flesh.
It had time for only one shriek before its form dissolved into a blood mist, spattering the ground.
Hearing the commotion, Lin Zhuoyu started to turn and look, but a chill drew near him; turning his head, he found himself face to face with Yan Su’s chest, a small peach blossom resting on the breast of the man’s robes.
Confused, Lin Zhuoyu asked, “Aren’t we using it to fish for that Great Demon anymore?”
“It’s useless now.” Yan Su did not let him look, an arm around his shoulders as he led him onward.
“Oh.” Lin Zhuoyu stood half a head shorter than Yan Su, tilting his head up as they walked. “You came at a bad time, Senior Brother—you missed my majestic performance trapping it with Qingru. He Xing worshipped me on the spot and even offered himself in marriage. If I can subdue even a Great Demon like this, couldn’t I join the Demon Suppression Bureau just like that?”
Yan Su’s tone carried no rise or fall. “You have little experience of the world. You are not suited to joining the Demon Suppression Bureau.”
Lin Zhuoyu argued his case. “But I am long past my capping ceremony. At my age, you had already been in the Bureau for two years. If you could, why can’t I?”
Yan Su did not argue, only asked, “Would Shizun allow it?”
Lin Zhuoyu deflated instantly. “Definitely not. He’d love to shut me up under a glass dome—but I want to slay demons and evils like you do, rid the people of harm.”
Yan Su said, “Thinking it is enough.”
Lin Zhuoyu: “…”
They chatted idly as they walked, and soon arrived at Warm Spring Peak.
It was already dusk. On the mountaintop, cold snow whirled, held at bay by a Barrier like an inverted dome of glass.
The courtyard within brimmed with spring, streams murmuring.
March peach blossoms were in full bloom. Lin Zhuoyu loved wine and collected peach blossoms every year to brew it. His artifact “Qingru” had condensed several water cages floating beside the trees, gathering in the falling petals.
By now, the water cages were brimming with petals.
Lin Zhuoyu tripped lightly along the corridor draped in peach blossoms, in an excellent mood over the long-sought Heart-Mirror Jade, waving a hand without looking back.
“I’m off to refine my artifact. Make yourself at home, Eldest Senior Brother.”
Yan Su watched his departing figure for a long while before pushing open the door.
Every corner of the spacious courtyard was steeped in Lin Zhuoyu’s presence. Chaoping Marsh was humid, and the boy loved places rich in water—there was even a great vat stacked with an artificial rockery inside the house.
Water poured down the man-high rockery, burbling clear and bright.
On the desk lay Lin Zhuoyu’s unfinished copying of the Heart Sutra, and beside it an ancient copy of the Records of the Demon Race lay open, densely annotated with a cinnabar brush.
Yan Su looked away and walked to the only austere room in the house, the tea room, sitting cross-legged on a cushion and closing his eyes in meditation.
Yan Su had been placid by nature since childhood, and after becoming Daoist Lord Tongxu’s disciple, what he cultivated was the Heart-Purifying Dao. He was a sword cultivator, yet his life-bound artifact was the Seven Golden Talismans.
Yan Su entered his meditation.
The Heart-Purifying Dao’s spiritual power was more domineering than ordinary cultivation, and its demands were harsh: only with a pure heart and scant desire could one condense the Seven Golden Talismans for one’s own use.
Should the seven emotions ever run rampant, or the meditation be interrupted by external things, the golden talismans would detonate.
Yan Su’s spiritual power circled him soundlessly, condensing the talismans inch by inch.
Just as the final talisman was about to take form, light, quick footsteps sounded outside, and the sigils—hard as bedrock—were abruptly startled and scattered in flight.
Bang.
The Seven Golden Talismans shattered.
Yan Su opened his eyes, his expression unreadable.
A familiar voice rang by his ear. “Eh? Your talismans shattered? Hahaha, Eldest Senior Brother, is your heart not calm?”
Yan Su brushed the broken talismans from his knees. “You are too loud.”
Lin Zhuoyu knelt behind Yan Su, lazily draped over his shoulder; the slight vibration of his chest carried through the thin robes to Yan Su’s rigid back as he spoke.
He said, the picture of innocence, “Heaven above, I only just arrived. How is this my fault?”
Yan Su’s face was whiter than snow. He did not pursue the topic. “Artifact refined?”
“Naturally.” Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes curved, and he extended an arm before Yan Su; his fingers spreading open, a jade pendant carved with sigils swung down, swaying.
“Look—Little Senior Brother’s newest artifact. Purifies the heart and holds the light. Wear it, Senior Brother, and you can chant Amitabha and achieve Buddhahood on the spot.”
Yan Su brushed his hand away. “I cultivate the Heart-Purifying Dao, not Buddhism.”
Lin Zhuoyu muttered, “Aren’t they the same thing? Want it or not?”
“No.”
“But what if you meet a Great Demon that can bewitch you with demon arts?” Lin Zhuoyu said, displeased. “In the Records of the Demon Race I’ve read, most Great Demons are masters of disguise and the Bewitchment Art. If you get careless and get caught in an illusion, a Great Demon could eat you in three bites—head first, then the limbs…”
Yan Su, who had been eaten hundreds of times in Lin Zhuoyu’s imaginings, finally took the pendant and stored it in his storage pouch. “It’s dark. Go back and rest.”
Lin Zhuoyu: “Okay.”
With that, he turned, marched into the inner chamber, and flopped onto the bed.
Yan Su closed his eyes briefly. “Go back to your own quarters.”
“Oh, what’s yours and mine between the two of us? Warm Spring Peak is my second home.” Lin Zhuoyu kicked off his shoes, utterly at ease. “Too lazy to go back. Sleeping here.”
Yan Su frowned. “Lin Zhuoyu.”
Lin Zhuoyu played deaf, eyes shut, feigning deep sleep.
Men and demons alike feared Yan Su’s might, but Lin Zhuoyu had never once been afraid of him. He lay on his side, eyes closed, counting.
When he reached seven, sure enough came the sound of Yan Su rising.
Lin Zhuoyu sensed Yan Su walk to the bedside and form a cleansing hand seal, then gently remove his outer robe and take off his hair crown. The calming incense Lin Zhuoyu habitually used slowly diffused through the air.
Incense smoke curled upward.
Lin Zhuoyu had meant to tease his duplicitous Eldest Senior Brother a little more, but he had been plagued by nightmares these past few days. The moment the calming incense’s scent rose, his consciousness began to fog.
Dark shadows crowded his vision, twisting into warped ghostly figures as his consciousness sank.
Something heavy seemed to press on his chest; he could not draw breath.
A beast roared by his ear, its piercing screams as if to shatter his heart.
Bang.
Lin Zhuoyu knelt there, dazed, as a hand reached out of the darkness, smearing blood—thick, mixed with golden sand—across his face, carrying a bitter-sweet fragrance.
“Little Yu…”
Blood from his forehead fell from his lashes to the ground with a soft tap. Even in a dream, Lin Zhuoyu could not help trembling.
“Father… Mother…”
“Elder Brother…”
The beast was shrieking—or laughing in frenzy.
Thunder rumbled, and in the flash of lightning, reflected in Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes—was a massive, eerie Nine-Tailed Fox.
Blood tears streamed from Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes as he struggled to throw himself forward.
Until a familiar presence seemed to break through the boundary between dream and reality, slowly wrapping around him.
Lin Zhuoyu instinctively turned onto his side; as his hand rose, it was caught in a pair of warm hands, wisps of calming incense perfuming his nose.
In almost an instant, Lin Zhuoyu’s restless mind settled, and he sank into sleep with that fragrance, bit by bit.
In the last moment before consciousness left him, the person holding him seemed to be gently, carefully stroking his face.
Lin Zhuoyu fell soundly asleep.
Dawn broke.
Yan Su sat alone outside the Barrier, eyes closed, sensing the spiritual power flowing through his body.
Interrupted by Lin Zhuoyu the night before, the morning was quiet—only the faint sound of heavy snow falling. Yan Su began refining the Seven Golden Talismans anew.
One. Two.
The sixth talisman glowed with golden light; a handful of snow fell from the red plum branch onto Yan Su’s shoulder, and Floating Jade Mountain’s morning bell tolled heavily, startling the birds into flight.
Yan Su’s Dao Heart was settled; even if heaven and earth collapsed, he could condense the seven talismans untouched.
As the morning bell faded, the person asleep in the inner chamber rolled over.
Yan Su’s eyes snapped open.
The seventh talisman, at the very moment of forming, violently detonated, the other six dissolving along with it.
Broken sigils fell into the snow, blindingly bright.
