Zhu Xian: They've all been reborn

Qingyun Mountain, Xiaozhu Peak.

Shuiyue burst out of the quiet room, mounted her sword, and transformed into a beam of white light, shooting straight towards Tongtian Peak.

The wind whistled past her ears, stinging her face, but she couldn't feel it. Only one thought buzzed in her mind, like a million bees humming.

Wan Jianyi. Senior Brother Wan. Is he still alive? In the Ancestral Shrine? Sweeping the floor?

Impossible. Back then, everyone said he was dead, that he died in the wilderness, and that his remains were never found.

Dao Xuan said it himself, and Cang Song... Cang Song believed it.

How could... how could it still be on Qingyun Mountain? Right in the Ancestral Hall? All these years?

Her mind was in turmoil, like a ball of yarn torn by a cat. Her sword-riding speed was astonishing; the mountains and trees beneath her feet became blurry shadows.

She stared intently at the tallest mountain peak in front of her, hidden in the clouds, her eyes stinging, yet she didn't blink.

Tongtian Peak, Ancestral Temple.

As the white light fell, Shuiyue staggered, almost losing her balance. The ancestral hall remained unchanged, simple, solemn, and eerily quiet.

Only the sound of wind chimes ringing through the eaves, tinkling and tinkling, touches people's hearts.

She was panting, her chest heaving. Her gaze swept across the empty courtyard in front of the ancestral hall, where only fallen leaves and a deathly silence remained.

Nobody's here. Where's that one-armed old man sweeping the floor?

She stepped inside, her footsteps light, as if afraid of disturbing something. Her heart was pounding, thumping like a drum. She passed through the front hall and walked to the backyard. The backyard was even quieter, with a few old trees and a carpet of withered leaves.

Then, she saw it.

A person sat on the stone steps behind the ancestral hall. He had his back to her, was hunched over, and wore a gray Taoist robe with the left sleeve hanging empty.

He held a slightly worn broom in his right hand, resting it on his lap. His hair was gray, casually tied back with a wooden hairpin, revealing half of his thin, withered neck.

He sat there, motionless, like a stone statue. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting flickering light on him.

Shuiyue stopped in her tracks, her breath caught in her throat.

She stared at his retreating figure, at the empty sleeves, at the graying hair. A lump formed in her throat, and tears welled up unexpectedly, blurring her vision.

It's him.

Even if a hundred years had passed, even if it was just a glimpse of his back, she recognized him. It was Wan Jianyi.

That Senior Brother Wan, who once amazed the entire Qingyun Mountain and shone with unparalleled brilliance. That person she secretly kept in her heart for a hundred years.

How did he... become like this?

Aged and withered, like an old tree struck by lightning. Has he been here all these years? Alone? Sweeping?

"Senior Brother Wan...?" she asked, her voice trembling uncontrollably, like a leaf falling in the autumn wind.

The figure froze abruptly. Very slowly, very slowly, he turned his head.

A face covered in wrinkles, weathered by time.

His eyes were cloudy and dull, like two wells that were about to dry up.

But the moment those eyes saw her, their pupils contracted sharply, flashing a fleeting, complex emotion—shock, bewilderment, and…a hint of panic?

Immediately, the emotion vanished, and the body returned to a stagnant calm.

He looked at her for a long time, then his lips moved, emitting a dry, hoarse sound, like sandpaper rubbing against stone:

"Shuiyue...Junior Sister."

Dazhu Peak, at the entrance to the mountain.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, and the fog had not yet dissipated. Dewdrops clung to the blades of grass, and the air was damp and chilly.

Jiang Xiaochuan sneezed and rubbed his nose.

He carried a small bundle containing a few changes of clothes and some dry food. He felt a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Tian Ling'er stood to his left, dressed in red, like a ball of fire.

She had an amber-colored silk ribbon wrapped around her waist, her eyes sparkling. She would glance at Jiang Xiaochuan every now and then, then look warily to her right.

On the right, Lu Xueqi stood. She wore a moon-white Taoist robe, with the Heavenly Jade Sword on her back, and her face was cold and aloof, like snow on a mountain peak.

She didn't look at Tian Ling'er; her gaze was fixed on Jiang Xiaochuan, indifferent but very focused.

The atmosphere was a bit strange. Strangely quiet. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and... Xiao Bai yawning on Jiang Xiaochuan's shoulder.

Little White was still in its fox form, curled up on Jiang Xiaochuan's shoulder, its fluffy tail swishing back and forth, making his neck a little itchy. It had its eyes half-closed, looking lazy and as if it hadn't woken up yet.

Lu Xueqi's gaze would occasionally sweep over Xiaobai, and it would instantly turn cold, as if it had frozen.

But Little White ignored her completely, licking its paws and shifting to a more comfortable position.

"Um..." Jiang Xiaochuan felt that this awkward silence wasn't going to work, so he forced himself to speak.

"How... should we get there? By flying on our swords? Or on foot?"

Tian Ling'er immediately chimed in, "Sit on my Amber Crimson Silk! My Crimson Silk is fast and stable, and it can also block the wind!" As she spoke, she was about to unfold the Crimson Silk.

"Tianya is faster," Lu Xueqi said, her voice soft but firm. "The journey is long, so flying on a sword will save time."

Tian Ling'er retorted, "My Zhu Ling isn't slow either! And it's comfortable! Xiao Chuan is only at the third level of the Jade Purity Realm; he'll get tired after flying on his sword for a long time!"

"I have elixirs that can replenish vital energy."

"Taking too many pills is bad! All medicines have some degree of toxicity!"

The two women, exchanging words, neither willing to give in. Their eyes clashed in the air, crackling as if sparks were about to fly.

Jiang Xiaochuan was in a real bind.

He looked at Tian Ling'er, then at Lu Xueqi, opened his mouth, unsure which one to advise. The little white dog on his shoulder yawned again, pawing at his ear as if watching a show.

"Um...I..." Jiang Xiaochuan tried to interrupt.

"Shut up!" Tian Ling'er and Lu Xueqi glared at him at the same time, speaking in unison.

Jiang Xiaochuan: "..." He shrank back and dared not speak.

Lu Xueqi stopped looking at Tian Ling'er, stepped forward, walked up to Jiang Xiaochuan, and reached out to grab his wrist. "It's getting late, we should get going."

Her hands, her fingertips were slightly cool.

Almost simultaneously, Tian Ling'er rushed over and grabbed Jiang Xiaochuan's other arm. "Xiaochuan, come with me!"

Both hands, one on the left and one on the right, were gripping tightly. Lu Xueqi's hands were cold, but strong. Tian Ling'er's hands were warm, but trembling slightly.

Jiang Xiaochuan was caught in the middle, unable to move. He felt like his arm was about to be torn off.

On the left was Lu Xueqi's cool and resolute gaze, while on the right was Ling'er's stubborn, reddened eyes. On her shoulder, the little white tail swished faster, seemingly a little impatient.

The wind grew colder. Fog rose, dampening hair and clothes.

"I..." Jiang Xiaochuan looked left, then right, his mind a complete mess. Whose car?

Tianya is fast, but Junior Sister Lu... has too strong an aura, he's a little intimidated.

The amber silk was comfortable, but Senior Sister Ling'er's intentions were too obvious, and he was a little flustered.

Oh dear... what am I going to do? He really wanted to disappear on the spot.

Xiao Bai suddenly raised her head, sniffed the air, and then glanced at Jiang Xiaochuan with an expression that seemed to say: Useless.

Just then, Lu Xueqi exerted a little force, pulling Jiang Xiaochuan a step closer to her. Tian Ling'er, not to be outdone, also pulled back forcefully.

"Let go!" Lu Xueqi said coldly.

"You loosen your grip first!" Tian Ling'er refused to back down.

Jiang Xiaochuan was like a rag doll, being pulled around.

He wore a pained expression, feeling as if he were about to split in two. If he'd known it would be this difficult to get down the mountain, he would have preferred to stay and cut bamboo!

"Um... two senior... sisters..." he said weakly, "or... should I walk?"

Two cold (one angry) gazes shot over at the same time.

"No!"