The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

The middle-aged Taoist priest had a thin face with three long wisps of beard. His brows carried a sense of vicissitude and melancholy, but his eyes remained bright and sharp, as if they contained the edge of a sword.

He was a late-stage Purple Mansion Elder of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion, with the Daoist name Shangyuan Zhenren.

Master Shangyuan wiped his sword slowly and gently, as if touching a lover's skin. His gaze was focused and deep, as if he could see a long, long time ago, a time that had become blurred, through the cold blade.

Just then, a soft sound of footsteps approached from afar.

A young man dressed as a disciple of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion bowed respectfully to the back of the Supreme Master Shangyuan, his voice tinged with excitement and a hint of fear:

"Reporting to Grandmaster Shangyuan! We have just received definite news! The newly promoted True Monarch Zixu of the Taihua Sect personally went to Yanfu Mountain last night and exterminated the entire Diluo Sect, destroying their mountain gate and turning it into a sinkhole! The Diluo Sect has now been removed from the Central Plains!"

The voices of the young disciples echoed through the cave.

Master Shangyuan paused slightly as he wiped the sword.

After a long while, as if he had just finished processing the news, he slowly sheathed his longsword, making a soft "clang" sound that was particularly clear in the cave.

"I understand." His voice was calm and expressionless, revealing neither joy nor anger. "You may leave."

"Yes! This disciple takes his leave!" The young disciple dared not ask any more questions, bowed again, and hurriedly left, quickly disappearing into the cave.

Master Shangyuan sighed, got up, and prepared to go to the back mountain of Sword Tomb Peak.

-

A moment later, at the back of Sword Tomb Peak.

In a secluded mountain valley.

The valley is rarely visited by people, and only the faint chirping of birds adds to its tranquility.

In the center of the valley, there is an inconspicuous solitary grave built of bluestone.

Before the grave stood a simple blue stone tablet, on which were engraved a few words with a sharp, sword-like intent:

[The Tomb of My Beloved Disciple - Chu Huai]

The characters are deeply embedded in the stone tablet, as if they contain the endless sorrow of the person who carved the tablet.

Beside the grave grows an old locust tree that requires several people to encircle, its branches and leaves flourishing, its canopy spreading out a large area of ​​shade.

Master Shangyuan walked to the ancient locust tree, leaned against the rough trunk, and slowly sat down.

He took a vermilion gourd from his waist, uncorked it, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp.

The strong liquor burned as it went down my throat, but it couldn't extinguish the turbulent, complex emotions churning within me.

"Cough...cough cough..." He choked and coughed a few times, an unnatural blush rising on his pale face.

He raised his hand and casually wiped the wine stains from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, but his gaze fell on the lonely grave and the old locust tree with its canopy beside it.

"Huai Shi...this tree..." he began, his voice hoarse from the strong liquor, carrying a faint, almost soliloquy quality, "The year you left, I moved it from another place and planted it myself in front of your grave. Back then, it was just a small sapling, barely taller than a person, so fragile. I was afraid it wouldn't survive, so I came every day to water it and take care of it..."

He raised his hand and gently patted the thick tree trunk beside him, which required several people to encircle, producing a dull sound.

"Look, now... it has grown so big. It stands tall and lush."

"Time... flies by so fast."

"In the blink of an eye, two cycles of sixty years have passed... just like that."

He paused, then tilted his head back and took another gulp of wine. His gaze, peering through the swaying leaves, fell upon the distant and desolate blue sky. His voice gradually lowered, carrying an indescribable weariness.

"That blonde girl who brought your body back back then..."

"That little brat who swore to me with red eyes, 'I will never forget Senior Sister Chu's kindness...'"

"now……"

"She has been promoted to the rank of True Lord."

"With such a prestigious and long title as 'True Lord of the Nine Heavens Taihua Purple Void Responding to the Origin of Thunder'."

"They even... they even have the ability to wipe out a ten-thousand-year-old demonic sect like the Di Luo Sect from this world overnight."

"Wow, that's amazing...really amazing."

He tugged at the corners of his mouth, as if trying to laugh, but the smile was more painful than a grimace, filled with bitterness and self-mockery.

"But... Huai Shi..."

He turned his head, his gaze returning to the solitary grave, his voice suddenly becoming sharp, filled with anger and heartache suppressed for a century.

"But in these two cycles of sixty years... how many times has she come to see you?"

"Promotion to True Lord... Heh, such a big deal, such a 'joyful' event... Did she come to your grave to tell you, to tell you, 'Senior Sister Chu, I am now a True Lord'?"

"I bet she's completely forgotten about you! Completely forgotten!"

"What 'forgiveness forever'...it's all a lie to fool ghosts!"

"In her heart, there is only her path, her sect, and her grudges! Has she ever... truly remembered you, her foolish senior sister?!"

"If I had known she was such a cold-hearted person... back then!"

Master Shangyuan clenched his fist tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, and an incomparably sharp sword intent burst out uncontrollably from his body, instantly shredding the fallen leaves piled up on the ground beside him into dust!

"Back then... even if it meant being severely injured by that old bastard Yuan Lei, I would still kill that ungrateful little brat with a single palm strike!"

"It saves... saves you from lying here now, your grave overgrown with weeds, with no one to pay your respects! While she is out there enjoying immense prestige and being revered by thousands!"

"It's not worth it... Huai Shi, you really aren't worth it..."

All the anger eventually turned into a heavy, long sigh, filled with endless sorrow and helplessness.

Master Shangyuan slumped against the tree trunk, as if all his strength had been drained.

He raised the gourd and poured the remaining wine into the lonely grave.

The liquor seeped into the soil silently.

"I'm useless... I couldn't protect you back then, and now... I'm incapable of seeking justice for you."

"Will you blame your master for being so pathetic while you're down there...?"

He murmured to himself.

It's as if I'm asking the souls of the dead beneath their lonely graves, or perhaps I'm asking myself.

No one answered.

Only the mountain wind howled, rustling through the dense branches and leaves of the ancient locust tree, making a sound like a sigh.

A few withered yellow locust leaves were swept up by the autumn wind, swirling and quietly falling.

A piece fell on the top of the lonely grave.

A piece of land, swaying and drifting further and further away, finally disappears at the exit of the valley, as if it were to be carried away by the wind, taking this long-forgotten, bitter, and unknown past to an unknown distance.

Fallen leaves will eventually return to their roots, or turn into dust.

Some stories, like fallen leaves, are buried by time until no one mentions them anymore, and eventually disappear into the long river of time.

The valley is silent, and the ancient locust tree stands speechless.

Only the overwhelming sorrow and regret, like aged wine, silently fermented in the air.