Chapter 33: Futai (9)

What should he have prophesied then?

He should have prophesied the ending where, step by step, he walked toward a hopeless conclusion.

After Huai Mingzi and Xie Shiyi’s confrontation, with both sides suffering considerable losses, Yan Qing hunted Huai Mingzi to the main palace and used his spirit silk to pulverize his spiritual consciousness.

Huai Mingzi had an arrogant disposition, and at the moment of his death, he erupted with resentment. Even at the cost of self-detonation, he laid down the Scorching Xuanyin¹ Formation, dragging Yan Qing into mutual destruction with him.

When raging fire engulfed Shifang City’s main palace, Yan Qing was also trapped within with no chance of escape.

The palace walls collapsed, and the roof beams rained down. As countless artifacts around him were reduced to ashes, he stood frozen at the center of the hall.

Amidst the chaos, the only sound beside Yan Qing’s ears was the raspy, aged voice of the Demonic God.

“Actually, you can survive this.”

Her voice hoarse and bewitching, and she enticed, “Yan Qing, aren’t you tired of constantly using cultivation to suppress your inner phantasm?”

The Demonic God softly laughed, and faintly said, “I truly don’t understand why humans are so ignorant, saying that phantasms are my curse. It’s clearly the greatest blessing I have bestowed upon you people.”

“Let it awaken.”

“Yan Qing, as long as you allow your phantasm to awaken, your cultivation will advance by leaps and bounds, and you’ll survive. You’ve always been a genius, and the phantasm’s existence will only make you more powerful!”

Yan Qing stood among the flames, black-haired, red-robed, his long thread spiraling down toward his scarlet ankles. He turned to look in the direction of the Red Lotus Pavilion. Actually, his true thoughts were that, after Xie Shiyi was injured and lost consciousness, he locked him up inside. He should be waking up by now…

Would he be furious, or would he be astonished?

Yan Qing mirthlessly smiled.

Initially, he had never planned to entangle Xie Shiyi in the struggle between himself and Huai Mingzi.

He had been ensnared by the Demonic God, who had planted a phantasm within him. Ultimately, only death awaited him; it was just a matter of when.

The Demonic God saw his lack of reaction and patiently coaxed, “Yan Qing, don’t you want to see him?”

Yan Qing finally spoke, indifferently replying, “Shut up.”

The Demonic God flew into a rage, her entirely dark green pupils contracting vertically like a serpent’s, releasing a dense, sinister aura. “Yan Qing, you’ve already cultivated to the Soul Formation Stage, and you can completely coexist with the phantasm—what are you afraid of? Release it! Release the phantasm, and you can break through the peak of the Soul Formation stage, you can become a demigod, and you can walk out of this sea of fire alive!”

She fiercely interrogated him.

—”Yan Qing, what exactly are you afraid of!?”

“I’m afraid of nothing.” Yan Qing quietly answered her.

His long, slender fingers were almost abnormally white and looked even more glacial against his dark red sleeves.

The spirit silk wound back up his fingers, coil by coil. Peacefully, he said, “It’s just. Although I can’t prevent you from planting a parasite inside my consciousness, I can still prevent it from ever being born.”

Yan Qing lowered his head, as a dark red slowly bloomed in the depths of his eyes. Only after it receded, in the middle of the grand hall, did he slowly say, “You’ve said a lot of similar things these past hundred years. Do you think any of them have gotten through to me?”

The Demonic God was silent.

Yan Qing curiously asked, “Tell me, if I die, will you die, and then you’ll finally shut up?”

That crazy woman suddenly shrieked, her voice shaking with anger and disbelief. “You’re trying to get rid of me?”

Her rage transformed into furious laughter. Each word was laden with hatred, as if cursing him with her entire soul.

“Yan Qing, you’ll never break free from me!”

“Every person harbors a phantasm within their hearts. Just like a shadow, it’s inescapable! We will definitely meet again!”

*

Gradually, warmth receded from the water in Yuqing Peak’s cold springs as it chilled.

Yan Qing was surrounded by a world of snow and frost, but blazing infernos ravaged his memories.

The fluctuation between fire and ice threw Yan Qing’s five senses into disarray, and he couldn’t help but shudder.

The Golden Core within his Dantian had already slowly begun to melt, vaguely taking on the form of a Nascent Soul. Fibers of spiritual energy wove around the Nascent Soul. Xie Shiyi had said that reforming a Nascent Soul and breaking the “true self” would be excruciating, and as expected, it was so painful that his entire body trembled.

It felt his soul was being tightly bound and sliced by a string. Layer upon layer of threads enveloped it like a silk cocoon, and his internal organs burned.

But to Yan Qing, the physical pain was merely an afterthought.

What he was finding the most difficult to endure was how the burning of forming his Nascent Soul forced him to relive the utter unwillingness, utter despair, and utter regret he felt that night he died amidst the great fire in Shifang City.

Who could possibly meet death with open arms?

Of course, he was unwilling, unwilling to just die like that.

Of course, he was despairing, despairing that he was never able to see the Upper Heaven for himself.

Of course, he had regrets.

He regretted that this parting, once again, passed before he could say a single word of goodbye to Xie Shiyi.

His time in Shifang City was entirely filled with treachery and coldness. Each and every person harbored sinister intentions, danger in their eyes, destruction in their blood, and cruelty in their bones. It seemed the only fond memories he had were those days he spent with Xie Shiyi in the human realm. That day, returning from the gambling den to the Ascension Pavilion, the sky was streaked with fiery clouds, and the setting sun blazed so fiercely it seemed the heavens might catch fire.

Xie Shiyi.

Xie Shiyi.

Yan Qing’s hand convulsed uncontrollably in the pool, his eyes shot open, and a dark, blood-red began to disperse from his pupils, covering the entire whites of his eyes. His nerves were stretched to the limit, his fingers curled and twitched under the water, as he recklessly condensed all the spiritual energy around him to absorb into his body—it was as if the only way to relieve this kind of agony was through self-destruction.

Through the chaos of his mind, Yan Qing heard Xie Shiyi give a slight start, losing control of his emotions.

“Yan Qing.”

The next second, a cold spiritual energy that covered the skies and blanketed the earth swept over, and a dense curtain of plum blossoms fluttered down.

Yan Qing merely felt as if an icy breath blew past him in the blink of an eye, and immediately after, someone was in the water, grasping his trembling hand. The instant their fingers interlocked, the boundless spiritual energy of the Soul Formation stage unceasingly poured into him.

His withered arteries and veins received the energy like sweet rain after a long drought, thoroughly alleviating the scorching suffering.

“Yan Qing, don’t think about it.”

Xie Shiyi’s voice softly emerged beside his ear.

He had followed him into the cold springs, black locks interweaving with black locks. Yan Qing raised his head, and the bloody color within his pupils slowly dissipated. Across water, mist, and plum blossoms, he looked at Xie Shiyi’s face before him. As he gazed at those familiar features and the familiar depths of those eyes, for a moment, he was unable to discern whether this was a dream or reality.

Xie Shiyi’s voice was especially tender, almost soothing, as he calmly said, “Yan Qing, don’t think about it.”

“It’s all fake. Don’t think about it, it’s in the past.”

Xie Shiyi’s even voice also gradually smoothed out Yan Qing’s emotional state. His eyes were frozen on him in a panic-stricken gaze, and the pain in his consciousness was nearly unbearable, yet all he was thinking was, is this real then?

He wanted to reach out and touch the person in front of him, yet when he raised his hand to do so, he found that it was already tightly bound in Xie Shiyi’s grasp.

The messily tangled red thread damply clung to the two people’s wrists. It drooped into the pool, drifting among the plum blossoms, complicatedly intertwined, just like the relationship between them.

Gratitude or grudge, friend or foe, love or loathing.

In those youthful years spent struggling, rolling around in the dust and din of the mortal world, nameless and unseen.

Trepidation or trust. Whether the other was an evil devil who wouldn’t hesitate to kill and supersede him the second his guard dropped, or an intimate friend with whom no words were spared and weathered countless life-or-death tribulations, every rise and fall, by his side.

It was hard to say.

Their two separations were too sudden, just as sudden as their first meeting.

There wasn’t enough time to say goodbye.

There also wasn’t enough time to reflect on everything that happened.

Yan Qing suddenly began laughing softly. Perhaps it was too painful, or perhaps the fog was too heavy, but his eyes were murky. He stared at Xie Shiyi’s face like a moonlit balcony lost in the mist.

“What’s in the past?” He softly spoke, “Xie Shiyi, what’s in the past?”

Xie Shiyi stilled. Draped in snow-white robes rinsed in ice and washed in frost, his expression of eternal estrangement seemed to reveal the slightest crack.

Yan Qing watched him and serenely said, “I actually don’t know how I was reborn.”

“When I woke up, a hundred years had already passed, and I was kneeling in Huichun Sect’s ancestral hall.”

Yan Qing gave a bitter laugh and spoke again, “The matter of the token and the marriage wasn’t raised by me, yet I still stayed.”

“Xie Shiyi, you know, I’m not originally from this world.”

When he transmigrated in his previous life, he forgot all of his memories, only retaining the wisdom and temper of a seven-year-old. However, sometimes scenes from modern life would unexpectedly resurface without warning. Yan Qing understood very clearly that he wasn’t a part of this world. Luckily, Xie Shiyi was antisocial and prickly when he was young, making him easy to hate. Pure anger from on-sight quarrels with Xie Shiyi evaporated Yan Qing’s initial terror at arriving in a new world.

Yan Qing continued, “Huai Mingzi also perished in the fire that devastated Shifang City.”

“I don’t have anyone I hate, and I don’t have anyone I want dead.”

“En, I also remembered something bizarre.”

It was about the book Ardent Phantasm. But if I told you, you definitely wouldn’t believe me.

Yan Qing hooked his pale white lips, giving an unruly smile. “Xie Shiyi, those three questions you asked me actually all have very simple answers.”²

“I didn’t leave Huichun Sect because I wanted to see you. In this entire world, it seems that you’re the only person I know now.”

“I pretended to be crazy because I wasn’t sure if we were friend or foe; I was sloppy with the disguise since I thought I couldn’t fool you anyway.”

“Does my question matter? Of course, it matters.”

Yan Qing finished speaking and couldn’t help but laugh. However, his Nascent Soul had just been newly reformed, and every single bone in his body, from his head to his four limbs, ached with pain. Perhaps it was only in this state that he could freely say this much in front of Xie Shiyi. They appeared the most unguarded with each other, yet in truth, they were the most guarded of all. It was only when his consciousness was a blur, half-dreaming, half-awake, that he dared to reveal a sliver of his true self.

Xie Shiyi was entirely silent, motionlessly listening like a pristine jade statue.

Those eyes that were usually as piercing as liuli glass now seemed to be lost in thought, their gaze quiet and dazed.

Yan Qing resumed and said with self-derision, “How could it not matter? I couldn’t even call myself a friend, only an old acquaintance³. With our relationship like this, why would you help me?”

The plum blossoms gave off a faint sound as they floated into the pool.

Yuqing Peak was blanketed in snow year-round. The large snowflakes were ice-cold, sparkling, and translucent, each corner reflecting the world’s chilly gleam. The small snowflakes were like stars and cotton, slowly stirring up stands of fine black hair.

The Golden Core within Yan Qing’s Dantian finally shattered, rearranged, and coalesced into an infant with tightly shut eyes. Spiritual energy overflowed, giving off a lustrous and resplendent glow. The moment the Nascent Soul reformation succeeded, the bitter pain made a resurgence, instant and acute. His face became deathly pale as he stifled a groan, and his body pitched forward.

Xie Shiyi nearly instantly reached out to support him.

Yan Qing’s chin rested atop his shoulder as sweet, fishy blood spilled out from his throat, and he muddle-headedly, shockingly thought that he hadn’t even cut such a sorry figure when he broke through from Void Comprehension to Soul Formation in his previous life.

He muttered, “No wonder you were so cautious, it turns out reforming a Nascent Soul truly does require a lot of suffering.”

Yan Qing’s eyelashes trembled, and he felt his vision was blurry. He gloomily planned to take a nap after saying this.

But Xie Shiyi, after using his spiritual energy to examine every artery and vein in his body, suddenly spoke, his tone like the never-ending snow falling in the plum tree forest. One couldn’t discern the emotions in his voice, yet the words he spoke were very clear. “You ask me why I’m helping you? It’s because I never want you to leave without saying goodbye again.”

Yan Qing froze, and his fingers unconsciously tightened around Xie Shiyi’s robes.

Back then, Xie Shiyi had answered Yan Qing’s question with his own, forcing him into speechlessness. He never thought that even with the passing of time, his temper would unexpectedly mellow out, and he would voluntarily bring up old affairs again.

He gave a low, self-deprecating scoff, looked down at Yan Qing as he healed him, and said, “This time, I’ve agreed to that wedding arrangement and brought you back to Yuqing Peak. The Nine Sects and Three Clans of the Upper Heaven see you as a thorn in their side, and you haven’t yet recovered your cultivation. You’re in an extremely difficult situation and can’t take a single step by yourself. Your only choice is to remain by my side. If you leave, you’ll owe me a reason.”

After hearing this, Yan Qing stilled for a long while. Eventually, he surprisingly wanted to laugh. And because he wanted to laugh, he really did. Leaning on Xie Shiyi’s shoulder, the sound muffled, he laughed for half a day.

It really was an answer that fit Xie Shiyi’s temperament. Nowadays, Xie Shiyi was the master of the Xiaoyu Palace, and while on the outside he was the embodiment of all that was pure and holy, like a fresh breeze clearing the heavens for the moon, on the inside he was dangerous, cold, and unfathomable. This was evident from the casual formalities they exchanged when they reunited, as if it was no big deal, to the attitude Jing Ruyu and others had toward him later on.

These calculating beliefs may have been his initial thoughts.

However, he could tell from their interactions afterward, in fact he was sure, that these kinds of thoughts were merely an extremely small portion of his true feelings.

Yan Qing laughed until his heart’s content, and said, “Oh, so it was all for a goodbye with a reason. You accompanied me day and night to cultivate, deigned to descend into Qingle City, and now even entered the cold springs to help me form my Nascent Soul?”

Xie Shiyi: “…”

Yan Qing said, “Yaoyao, you must have a thirst for knowledge, a really strong sense of curiosity, huh?”

Xie Shiyi shot a glance at him and had nothing to say in response, merely silently combing out the chaotic spiritual energy jumbled in his Dantian.

Yan Qing refused to drop it and mocked, “This temper of yours, from childhood to adulthood, has truly always been awkward. Just one sentence admitting that you can’t forget your old affections for me, is that so hard?”

Xie Shiyi’s hand, hidden within his snow-white sleeves, trembled, then slowly clenched. He dropped his gaze and indifferently said, “Old affections I can’t forget, what old affections exist between us?”

Yan Qing was inexplicably stung by a bug. He quickly blinked and smiled, “What old affections? Xie Shiyi, actually, at the start of my time in Shifang City, I missed you quite a bit.”

“Maybe you really hated me in my previous life, and couldn’t wait for me to hurry up and have my soul soar away and scatter. But I…” Yan Qing hesitated for a second before finally letting out an unrestrained laugh.

Given that he was reborn, he should just clear everything he wasn’t able to say until he died in his past life.

“But I, at the time, truly considered you a very, very dear friend. You were the only person I trusted in all of the Nine Heavens.”

Xie Shiyi’s eyelashes draped down, and the vines born from his heart’s desire were buried beneath ashes and frost. His face was expressionless, and he said nothing.

Yan Qing felt a bit embarrassed after saying this much, since he and Xie Shiyi had always spent their time butting heads and quarreling. Yet, now that they finally had this hard-won heart-to-heart, the result was that Xie Shiyi unexpectedly had this kind of apathetic expression?

He couldn’t help but express his indignation and angrily bit Xie Shiyi’s shoulder to vent his frustration.

Xie Shiyi nudged his head away and gave a rare frown. “Is your zodiac animal the dog?”

Yan Qing was in a bad mood. “You don’t even know my zodiac?”

The corner of Xie Shiyi’s lip hooked up in mocking, and he subconsciously wanted to say something. But when he glanced down and saw Yan Qing’s face, pale and weak from forming his Nascent Soul, he silently looked away. He didn’t say anything and carried him out of the pool.

When he rose, the damp mist scattered, and his snow-white robes and ink-black hair didn’t have so much as a speck on them. Yan Qing’s soaking wet hair also became dry and stuck to his face softly and cozily, as a warm current spread throughout his limbs and bones. Even the icy wind blowing through the plum tree forest seemed to become an easygoing, gentle breeze.

He was very clear-headed now, although the warm breeze was making him unbearably drowsy. He said, “Then again, although reforming a Nascent Soul is indeed pretty painful, it still wasn’t as hard as you made it sound. I’m already at the Soul Formation stage, I’m not so weak as to fail to form a Nascent Soul.”

Xie Shiyi didn’t speak and looked toward the fallen snow and plum blossoms before him.

It was difficult for birds to approach Yuqing Peak, as it was surrounded by spiritual consciousness and killing intent. Intruders of this place only knew how to slaughter without restraint. The reek of blood and murder was pressed under the pure snow, just like his previous relations, tracelessly hidden under a white blanket.

After he placed Yan Qing in the side room’s bed and laid down a array, Xie Shiyi turned and headed toward the main palace hall.

In the corridor, a plum blossom petal fell before him, floating through his fingers.

His tone was as plain as drifting snow, laced with a faint, almost imperceptible sneer.

“…Fail to form a Nascent Soul?”

Whether he was in the mortal world or in the Upper Heaven, Xie Shiyi had always been a proud son of heaven. From Nascent Soul to Great Ascension, from Great Ascension to Void Comprehension, from Void Comprehension to Soul Formation. In the eyes of others, each step between these was vast as an impassable moat, trapping countless people for hundreds of thousands of years. But for him, it seemed as simple as blinking.

People around the world lauded him with myriad praises.

They said he stood at the pinnacle of the Qingyun Rankings, he was born a genius, he would never understand the mundane concerns of ordinary folk.

So.

Nobody knew, in his hundred years of seclusion, going from Golden Core to Nascent Soul, that he failed to form his Nascent Soul innumerable times.

The most difficult part of forming a Nascent Soul would always be the last step.

When breaking the “true self,” one was forced to revisit past memories.

The very first memories surfaced without rhyme or reason.

Whatever one thought about when they closed their eyes, that was what they would recall.

He had thought of using that umbrella crafted from the bamboo of the back mountain.

He had thought of the overcast, rainy, winding Springwater Peach Blossom Road.

And he had also thought of the crazy, nonsensical stories that Yan Qing told when they were trapped in Youjue Prison.

“Once upon a time, there was a river snail maiden who came across a snake frozen stiff on the road. Then, the snake asked, did you drop a gold axe or a silver axe?”

“…Idiot.”

However, no matter what memory it was, the scene would inevitably transform into that night in Shifang City. Huai Mingzi was seriously injured by him and had fled to the main palace.

He was also injured.

Yan Qing bent down and supported him, his expression frenetic as he examined his body. He exclaimed in alarm, “Xie Shiyi, what’s wrong with your Dantian?”

His Dantian had long been splintered into unrecognizable fragments.

Yan Qing had assumed it was Huai Mingzi’s doing, and in that moment, it truly seemed as if his fury was so intense it burned away all reason. The hatred in his eyes was deep and frenzied as he roared, “I’m going to kill him!”

Xie Shiyi was too weak to speak. But in reality, ever since he entered Shifang City, he often felt that his Daoist heart was unstable. His Path of Heartlessness was about to shatter.

His Path of Heartlessness shattered, his cultivation dispersed, and his Dantian collapsed.

The pain of destruction was fine and bitingly cold, like thin, weak blades were rubbing against each and every bone.

Xie Shiyi wasn’t necessarily the kind of wooden, thickheaded person who knew nothing outside of cultivation. On the contrary, he could calmly and clearly analyze every stage of his Path of Heartlessness shattering.

Although doing so had very little meaning. But, at the time, he was also bewildered at the prospect of having his path destroyed and recultivating. Besides doing this, he had no other way of filling the desolate emptiness of simply waiting for his spiritual energy to disperse.

When did his Path of Heartlessness break?

Perhaps it broke when he calculated from the Minghun Book that Yan Qing was about to die, and he abandoned the Immortal Alliance to enter the Demon Realm alone.

Perhaps it broke when he emerged from the Cave of Ten Thousand Ghosts, walking a road paved with white bones, and Yan Qing ambiguously leaned over and picked up a strand of his hair.

Or, perhaps it was foreshadowed from the very beginning.

At their parting at the Land of Fallen Gods, he was beside himself. As he walked up the nine thousand nine hundred steps, the conclusion was set in stone.

“I’ll bring you back to the Red Lotus Pavilion first, then I’ll go kill Huai Mingzi,” Yan Qing said.

He helped him back to the Red Lotus Pavilion, with the ghostly fires from bone lanterns lighting the way. In the evening, the red lotuses cast an ardent scarlet over the pavilions and waterside halls.

Yan Qing said, “Wait here for me.”

He brought him back to the room.

When forming his Nascent Soul, Xie Shiyi viewed himself from a god’s-eye view. He saw his face pale, and it was unclear if he was injured or otherwise. Blood overflowed from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes turned red with madness.

Yan Qing took advantage of his weak condition and tricked him, forcing him to fall asleep, and lightly smiled with ease. “Take a nap first, Xie Shiyi. When you wake up, everything will be over.”

The price of submerging into darkness was that, when he opened his eyes once more, the past became something he could no longer bear to remember.

During his seclusion of one hundred years, every time he tried to form his Nascent Soul, the instant he recalled the moment when he shut his eyes in the Red Lotus Pavilion, he would fail.

His Dantian would shatter, ruining his previous efforts, coming up short at the final step.

One time, two times, three times, four times, ten times, a hundred times.

Throwing off the nightmares, and truly breaking the “true self” the final time. Even he forgot how he did it. He didn’t fall asleep, and amidst either a dream or a self-deceiving illusion, he vehemently forced his eyes open.

His Path of Heartlessness shattered, his cultivation dispersed.

His eyes filled with blood like congealed tears.

He reached out his hand and gripped Yan Qing’s wrist. His voice was hoarse, as if praying or begging, as he softly said.

“Yan Qing, stay here, don’t go anywhere.”

TN: Yan Qing: wow, reforming my nascent soul was so easy!

Xie Shiyi: *fighting demons for 100 years* haha…yeah…

1. 炙火玄阴, couldn’t think of a different way of translating this that wouldn’t be a mouthful ↩

2. From the end of chapter 22 ↩

3. Previously it was translated as “old friend” ↩