Lightning Tribulation (3)

Shen Yuxi pulled back his sword without a flicker of expression. The blade was as bright and clean as ever, unstained by blood. Only a few wisps of black qi flashed across its edge before vanishing.

The scene before him twisted violently once more, then collapsed. The sword practice grounds of Misty Spirit Peak vanished in an instant, replaced by a warm, bustling banquet on Spirit Tempering Peak.

His fellow disciples sat around a round table laden with delicacies: glossy roasted spirit fowl, translucent candied immortal fruit, and steaming jars of spirit wine.

Lin Huaixu could not hold his liquor. He had slumped over the table early on, dead drunk, his cheeks flushed as he mumbled something unfinished.

Amid the noise, Wen Jian quietly slipped a lustrous white porcelain bottle from his sleeve and pressed it into Shen Yuxi's hand. "Freshly refined Qi-Gathering Pills," he whispered. "You're always burying yourself in cultivation, senior brother. Don't wear yourself out."

Shen Yuxi held the faintly warm bottle between his fingertips. Warmth and laughter washed over him, leaving him dazed, almost drunk. His head grew heavy.

Just then, a small, warm hand gently closed around his wrist.

He looked down. Song Zhiyi had drawn close without his noticing, his eyes curved like bright crescents and filled with flecks of light. His voice was low, carrying a cautious note of joy. "Happy birthday, second senior brother."

Within a few breaths, that smile shattered.

Song Zhiyi's face twisted grotesquely. Blood gushed from his forehead, covering most of his face in an instant. Dense black qi poured from his body and coiled around him like venomous snakes.

His flesh withered and shrank with terrifying speed. Life drained from him like a receding tide, and in the blink of an eye, he became a ghastly skeleton. Still