Chapter 3: Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump

Wind and snow raged on Warm Spring Peak.

Bare branches hung with icicles, rustling in the wind.

Yan Su breathed out silently, forming hand seals to condense the talismans again.

Then, a voice said, “Your heart is not calm. Try a hundred more times and you still will not condense the seventh talisman.”

Falling snow scattered; three snowflakes transformed in an instant into a white-haired man in snow-white robes. The shrieking wind cut off abruptly, snowflakes frozen in place.

Heaven and earth seemed to halt in this instant.

Yan Su’s spiritual power dispersed at once; his white robes billowed in the howling wind as he rose and bowed. “Shizun.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu, the Foremost Cultivator Beneath Heavenly Dao, possessed unfathomable cultivation. His eyes were a rare snow-pupiled grey that carried an uncanny divinity when they gazed upon people, inspiring involuntary awe.

“What were you thinking when the talisman shattered?”

Yan Su’s thumb brushed the patterns on his sword hilt. “Replying to Shizun: I was thinking of the clamor of all things, and how to still the heart.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu was always strict with his disciples. Yan Su had cultivated the Heart-Purifying Dao for years without condensing the seventh talisman, and he had expected scolding and punishment.

Those uncanny eyes seemed able to pierce the skin and peer straight into the divine soul. After a long silence, however, Daoist Lord Tongxu said only four careless words.

“Do not cling.”

Yan Su bowed his head. “This disciple accepts the teaching.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu stepped through the Barrier; the frozen wind and snow behind him resumed at once. His divine sense swept over the sleeping Lin Zhuoyu in the inner chamber and the burnt-out calming incense, and his tone softened.

“Did Little Yu have another nightmare last night?”

“Mm.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu knew the source of Lin Zhuoyu’s nightmares. “Has the Demon Suppression Bureau traced any sign of the Great Demon recently?”

Yan Su was terse. “Three months ago, several cultivators were attacked by a demon at Boundless Cliff. Their limbs and bodies were intact—only their heads were missing. This disciple suspects a Violet Fox.”

At the word “fox,” Daoist Lord Tongxu’s footsteps paused.

At the Chaoping Marsh massacre years ago, what had been left behind was a fox demon’s severed tail—the attacking demon had to be of the Fox Clan.

“The Fox Clan has always been cunning and skilled at disguise.” Daoist Lord Tongxu’s tone was cold. “If you encounter the Fox Clan, exterminate them utterly. Leave no survivors.”

“Yes.”

As they spoke, a streak of light came whistling from the horizon, vanishing into the Demon Suppression Bureau Command Token at Yan Su’s waist.

He flicked the secret order open: “Strange happenings in Linchuan. Commander, return at once.”

Yan Su said, “Yesterday He Xing captured the Tiger Demon the Bureau had released. The Violet Fox is likely near Linchuan City.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu sighed without a sound. “Qing Xiao is gentle by nature and far too indulgent with her disciples—take He Xing with you to Linchuan and temper him a little, lest he grow up never knowing the height of heaven and invite disaster.”

“Yes.”

“Go.”

Yan Su bowed. “This disciple takes his leave.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu was mildly surprised. “You are not going to tell Little Yu?”

The two were always inseparable; Yan Su would recount to Lin Zhuoyu every detail of his Bureau cases. Leaving without a word like this was a first.

Yan Su shook his head. “No.”

Once he had gone, Daoist Lord Tongxu turned toward the shut door and said flatly, “Done eavesdropping?”

No sound from within.

Daoist Lord Tongxu formed a seal and flicked his sleeve; the peach blossoms covering the ground roared into the house, and in moments a person came floating out, rolled up among them.

Lin Zhuoyu’s attempt at playing dead had failed; dangling in midair, he smiled ingratiatingly. “Good morning, Shizun! I didn’t hear anything just now. Fox demons? What fox demons.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu laughed.

A peach blossom thrown up by Lin Zhuoyu’s flailing drifted down onto Daoist Lord Tongxu’s shoulder, as if dotting him with a searing splash of color.

Daoist Lord Tongxu was aloof by nature; even speaking with his most accomplished eldest disciple, his interest was sparse and he seemed devoid of human warmth. This smile, though, was like a god at the edge of heaven touched by mortal fire—the whole man gained a touch of humanity.

“Protesting far too much.” Daoist Lord Tongxu chuckled, patting Lin Zhuoyu’s head. “Thought hiding on Warm Spring Peak would keep you from being caught? Come. Today is the day we visit Xiangdao Pavilion.”

The peach blossoms dispersed; Lin Zhuoyu alighted lightly on the ground, saying sulkily, “I’m not going.”

“Not going isn’t an option.” Daoist Lord Tongxu said flatly. “A single divination from Xiangdao Pavilion is hard to come by. Let me reckon this year’s fortune for you, or your master will not sleep soundly.”

Lin Zhuoyu groaned in despair. “Shizun, I have told you a million times—that Perfected Cultivator at Xiangdao Pavilion deals in nothing but tricks. Why do you keep sending them money every year? Thirty thousand Crystal Jade a divination—they might as well rob us! How do you get easier to scam the older you get?”

Had anyone else dared call the Foremost Cultivator Beneath Heavenly Dao a senile old fool, they would have long since been a handful of yellow earth. But Daoist Lord Tongxu only smiled. “So Little Yu knows to worry for his master now.”

Seeing him muddled to this degree only made Lin Zhuoyu angrier. “With the time it takes for that fortune-telling, you would sooner let me go on expedition with Eldest Senior Brother.”

“My disciple needs no tempering to turn out fine. Even if he stirs up some little catastrophe that destroys the Three Realms someday, Shizun will shoulder it for you.” Daoist Lord Tongxu coaxed him. “Be good. Ask the heavens, read the divination, seek fortune and avoid calamity—nothing but benefit.”

Lin Zhuoyu dug in his heels. “I don’t want to go.”

Xiangdao Pavilion divined his fortune every year, and every year it was an ordeal.

As a child, a single Modesty Hexagram had kept Daoist Lord Tongxu from letting him leave the sect to this very day. Last year’s reading—Lin Zhuoyu had forgotten the details—had foretold a blood calamity, and Daoist Lord Tongxu had not even let him enter this year’s Grand Tournament.

He feared another rotten hexagram this year, and Shizun truly chaining him up like a goat to raise.

Daoist Lord Tongxu tried again. “Little Yu…”

Lin Zhuoyu went “Hm?” and rose on tiptoe, calling toward the distance, “What? Only Little Senior Brother can turn the tide? Coming, coming!—Shizun, the Three Realms need Little Senior Brother’s salvation, or they will be destroyed this very instant! I’ll be right back!”

With that, without waiting for Daoist Lord Tongxu’s reaction, he tore off down the mountain in a blur.

Afraid that stopping the child would only provoke rebellion, Daoist Lord Tongxu could only watch him go.

A translucent figure silently condensed at his side. Seeing its master’s worry, the Sword Spirit consoled him: “Zhuoyu has a point. Thirty thousand Crystal Jade a divination really is expensive.”

Daoist Lord Tongxu said expressionlessly, “Wings have hardened, have they? Daring to manage me now?”

Sword Spirit: “…”

He Xing wailed to high heaven.

He Xing rolled on the ground kicking and screaming.

He Xing mooed for a long, long time, but could not change the tragic fate of training under Eldest Senior Brother.

He Xing even suspected that his words to Lin Zhuoyu the day before had displeased Eldest Senior Brother, and this tribulation was his punishment.

Linchuan City was roughly five hundred li from Floating Jade Mountain—half an hour by Profound Flying Steed.

Yan Su came down from Warm Spring Peak in a billowing snow-white robe, the Seven Golden Talismans newly re-condensed at his side. He Xing, who had waited at the sect gate for ages, had his head buried practically to his chest, not daring to look up.

Fortunately, Yan Su was focused on business and could not be bothered to thrash him.

Floating Jade Mountain’s Profound Flying Steed was a carriage Daoist Lord Tongxu had built for Little Zhuoyu over a decade ago. The body was antique yet ornate, studded with gold and jade, even the wheels carved with countless sigils—but thanks to Lin Zhuoyu’s inauspicious fortunes, the carriage was rarely used.

Yan Su lifted the curtain and stepped inside, glancing once at He Xing.

He Xing shuddered and said quickly, “I-I-I’ll drive for Eldest Senior Brother!”

Yan Su flicked the curtain down.

He Xing exhaled without a sound, brushed the frost and snow from his clothes, and tremblingly took the driver’s seat, seizing the reins.

Eldest Senior Brother had not given the word, so He Xing dared not move.

But after a quarter of an hour, Yan Su still had not stirred, as if waiting for someone.

He Xing said carefully, “Eldest Senior Brother, are we going?”

After a long while, Yan Su said, “Mm.”

He Xing snapped the reins; the Profound Steed gave a whinny, reared up, and stomped upon the clouds, surging skyward with aggressive momentum, the wind whipping peach petals into wild flight all around.

At the instant of takeoff, a low exclamation suddenly sounded.

Yan Su’s voice drifted from within. “What was that sound?”

“Ah! That was me!” He Xing’s forehead was beaded with sweat; he said hurriedly, “I was practicing horse calls. Moo—!”

Hearing no further word from Yan Su, He Xing quietly breathed out.

Inside the carriage, everything was arranged to Lin Zhuoyu’s tastes, delicate and elegant—brand new despite its long disuse.

Yan Su sat cross-legged by the window, eyes closed in meditation. The sunlight pouring in might as well have fallen upon a snowman that never melted—without a trace of warmth.

Suddenly, Yan Su said, “Come out.”

Silence in the carriage.

Yan Su rapped the carriage wall lightly. “He Xing.”

He Xing was driving in the wind, and the moment he opened his mouth he ate a mouthful of his own hair. “Ah? Eldest Senior Brother has… pah, has orders… pah.”

Yan Su: “Turn around. Back to Floating Jade Mountain.”

The moment the words landed, the void rippled like water, and a figure appeared silently in the corner of the carriage.

Lin Zhuoyu burst out of a giant water bubble, wiping his face and crying out frantically, “No no no, don’t go back to the sect! I finally got out!”

Yan Su said coldly, “Lin Zhuoyu.”

Afraid of being scolded, Lin Zhuoyu immediately went with better my friend dies than me: “It was Senior Brother He! Senior Brother He kidnapped me!”

He Xing, drenched by this basin of dirty water and hearing every word from outside, exploded, spitting out hair as he protested.

“Eldest Senior Brother, justice, please! It was that schemer Lin Zhuoyu sweet-talking me, saying ‘Senior Brother He is the best senior brother, that Yan fellow can’t compare at all’! I was deceived!”

Yan Su: “…”

Yan Su formed a seal to shut out the biting wind—and He Xing’s howling along with it—then looked expressionlessly at Lin Zhuoyu.

Lin Zhuoyu was still fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist, muttering in confusion, “That’s not right. This is a supreme-grade artifact Uncle Zhao gave me—said it blocks divine sense probing from anyone below the Spirit Refinement stage. Why didn’t it work? Is it broken?”

Yan Su looked at him expressionlessly.

Sensing danger, Lin Zhuoyu hurriedly scrambled over on his knees, clutching Yan Su’s knee, tilting his head up and turning on the charm just as he had when he was little.

“Oh! Could it be that Eldest Senior Brother’s cultivation advanced—broken through from Spirit Solidification to Spirit Refinement?! Congratulations, Eldest Senior Brother! Boundless horizons ahead!”

Yan Su was not soothed; he remained frost itself.

Lin Zhuoyu dared not laugh, asking carefully, “How did Eldest Senior Brother find me?”

Yan Su, frugal with words: “I didn’t.”

“Huh?”

Yan Su: “I bluffed you.”

Lin Zhuoyu: “…”

Miscalculated.

“A Great Demon may appear in Linchuan City. It is dangerous.” Yan Su said, “I am sending you back.”

Startled, Lin Zhuoyu flung his arms across the carriage door. “I’m not going back! If Shizun finds out I snuck out, he’ll be furious and lock me in confinement! Eldest Senior Brother, have a heart—you’re the best senior brother…”

Yan Su said coldly, “Your ‘best senior brother’ is outside. Inside is only the one surnamed Yan.”

Lin Zhuoyu wanted to laugh but did not dare, holding his lips in a straight line, face solemn. “Today, Little Senior Brother will exercise his authority and expel He Xing from Floating Jade Mountain, severing all senior-brother ties between us.”

Seeing him still japing about, Yan Su said, “You…”

“You could also send me back.” Lin Zhuoyu gave up all pretense, “but I am going to Linchuan City no matter what. If you won’t take me, I’ll sneak off myself, meet a Great Demon with no one to save me, get eaten in three bites, and by the time Senior Brother arrives, there will be nothing left of me but a bloody corpse…”

Yan Su’s eyelids jumped heavily; a rare fury rose in him. “Nonsense!”

Lin Zhuoyu stuck his neck out and said nothing.

Yan Su’s brows knitted tightly.

It was the Fox Clan that had slaughtered Lin Zhuoyu’s entire family. Whether or not this Linchuan fox demon was that same Great Demon, Lin Zhuoyu would go.

Better to keep him under his own watchful eye than let him charge about blindly.

Seeing Yan Su’s expression gradually loosen, Lin Zhuoyu quietly breathed a sigh of relief and pushed his advantage, snuggling close and wrapping his arms around Yan Su’s neck just as he had when he was little, hanging off his senior brother’s chest.

“With Eldest Senior Brother here, I’m not afraid of anything.”

Lin Zhuoyu seemed born with the gift of being loved. Sweet words came off his tongue without effort—he could charm the stingiest, most heartless of elders into leaving behind several priceless treasures before departing.

Lin Zhuoyu was fully confident that Eldest Senior Brother had been charmed.

But in this embrace, their body heat mingled through thin robes; this close, Lin Zhuoyu could even feel Yan Su’s heartbeat.

Those who entered the Heart-Purifying Dao were always the tranquil and desireless, indifferent of feeling—even with a mountain collapsing overhead, their faces unchanged, their heartbeats ever calm, without the slightest fluctuation.

When Lin Zhuoyu had nightmares as a child, Yan Su would hold him and lull him to sleep.

Lin Zhuoyu had heard Eldest Senior Brother’s heartbeat countless times, but never once had it been this strange.

Thump. Thump-thump.

Lin Zhuoyu’s eyelids twitched lightly, and he carefully tilted his head up.

Yan Su’s expression was far colder than usual; a rare irritation had even surfaced between his brows.

Uh-oh.

Lin Zhuoyu’s heart lurched.

Eldest Senior Brother’s heart was pounding like a war drum.

He was very, very angry.