Severing Mortal Ties

Half an hour later.

Ten miles outside Fengling City, on a sunlit mountainside.

Su Yueli did not take Shen Qing'an back to the mountain village. He had only lived in the village for three years; Fengling City was his home, the land of his ancestors.

Su Yueli found a sunny slope blanketed in wildflowers. Looking down from here, she could just overlook Fengling City and the tiny streams of carriages and people within it.

Bit by bit, she dug a deep pit. Only when her fingers were caked with blood and dirt did she place Shen Qing'an inside, still clutching the wooden box in his arms.

She sighed and shook her head. "Sleep peacefully. When you reincarnate in your next life, don't be a mortal who can only roll about in the mud."

A handful of yellow earth, then another.

The grave mound slowly rose, covering the hemp clothes, covering the dry bones.

Su Yueli stood before the fresh grave for a long time without moving.

There was no gravestone, because she did not know whether to carve the name of Shopkeeper Shen, whose mouth had been full of lies, or "Shen the Madman," who had squandered his entire fortune for her sake.

"So immortality is merely a procession of farewells, one step after another."

Su Yueli murmured softly, a trace of desolation showing in her eyes.

In only twenty short years, everything had changed beyond recognition. Her dear friend, who had once shown her kindness, had entered the yellow earth before she could repay him.

The feeling was strange. Su Yueli could not put it into words; she only hoped she would never have to dig another pit like this again.

Boom—

At that moment, a sudden whistle of something tearing through the air came from above the clouds.

Su Yueli raised her head and narrowed her eyes. Two streaks of light flew on swords, one azure and one white.

Within those streaks of light, two figures in broad immortal robes could vaguely be seen.

Su Yueli could sense the might of cultivators. Even if a martial artist reached the strongest tenth realm, they might not be able to defeat a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

And Foundation Establishment cultivators were merely in the second realm. Cultivation had a full fifteen realms!

But...

"So what if they are immortals? If they see mortal martial artists like us as grass and dogs, then one day, I, Su Yueli, will be able to hammer them to death with one hand!"

"..."

Meanwhile, gale winds howled in the high skies.

Two disciples at the second realm of Foundation Establishment sped through the air on their swords.

"What rotten luck."

The young cultivator on the left frowned and dusted off his robe in disgust. "It's only some mundane village. Wouldn't it have been enough to send two Qi Refining Stage outer disciples to clean it up? They had to make the two of us come all this way personally."

"Watch your words, Junior Brother. Focus on the assignment."

The middle-aged cultivator on the right wore a cold expression, his tone turning stern. "This is a secret order personally issued by the Grand Elder. It concerns the Young Sect Master's foundation on the Great Dao. There can be no mistakes."

At the words "Young Sect Master," the young man finally reined in his complaints, though a flicker of jealousy passed through his eyes.

"The Young Sect Master... Hmph, he only relies on that one-in-ten-thousand Supreme Heavenly Bone. He entered the sect twenty years ago and was exceptionally accepted by the Sect Master as a personal disciple. Now, at barely over thirty, he has already entered the Foundation Establishment Early Stage. Such talent truly has not been seen in a century."

The young man paused, then his tone shifted with a hint of mockery. "But alas, no matter how great his talent, he is still a mud-legged rustic brought out of the mortal world. His sights are far too shallow!"

He prattled on, deeply indignant.

A dignified Young Sect Master, and one with a Supreme Heavenly Bone at that—yet instead of choosing from among the sect's many heavenly daughters of pride, he had fixated on some wild woman in a mundane village who possessed no spiritual root.

As a result, his cultivation had not advanced an inch these past years. His state of mind had been affected, leaving him unable to break through to the Foundation Establishment Middle Stage.

Thinking of this, he shook his head. "If not for this knot in his heart, then with the aptitude of a Heavenly Bone, the Young Sect Master might have been qualified to challenge the third realm, Golden Core, in a few more years."

The middle-aged cultivator shot him a cold glance. "That is precisely the purpose of our journey today."

"Immortals and mortals are different. The Young Sect Master must shoulder the sect's future; how can he be dragged down by worldly fetters? He cannot bear to act, so the sect elders must sever his mortal ties for him."

"As long as every old acquaintance in that village dies, as long as that mortal woman affecting his state of mind is reduced to ashes, then there will no longer be anything in this world that can hinder the Young Sect Master from drawing his sword."

The middle-aged cultivator looked down at the rolling mountains below and reminded him again, "Remember, once we arrive, be swift with your hands. From the people to the poultry, leave not a single survivor. Make it clean. When we return, say it was the work of demonic cultivators. Even if the Young Sect Master investigates after leaving seclusion, he will not be able to trace it back to the sect."

"Rest assured, Senior Brother."

The young cultivator clasped his hands and sneered. "We are only killing a group of mortals without the slightest power to resist. My flying sword has not tasted blood in a very long time."

The two streaks of light turned in midair and shot straight toward the mountain village.

Half an hour later, the mountain village.

Near noon, the village's dirt roads were full of men carrying hoes, freshly returned from the fields.

Er Shizi was carrying two buckets of freshly drawn well water when he reached the entrance of his courtyard.

The clear sky suddenly darkened, and pressure descended from above.

The birds in the old locust tree cried out and beat their wings as they flew away. The tied watchdogs in the village were so frightened that they flattened themselves against the ground, whimpering without end.

The shoulder pole slipped from Er Shizi's hands. The two buckets smashed onto the ground, splashing water everywhere.

Everyone looked up, staring blankly at the sky. Two figures in azure and white Daoist robes stood with their hands behind their backs, their feet resting upon flying swords.

Their gazes made the villagers seem like livestock penned up for slaughter.

"Im... immortals!"

"Immortals have descended to the mortal world!"

No one knew who shouted first, but the villagers, who had still been dazed, instantly erupted.

The bone-testing phenomenon from twenty years ago had left far too deep an imprint on these villagers' memories.

They did not sense the killing intent in the sky at all. They only believed that an immortal sect had come again to select disciples.

"Quick! Kneel and kowtow!"

"Immortal Masters! Immortal Masters, please look at my child! My child is strong—he must have an immortal root!"

The villagers scrambled to kneel in the mud, kowtowing so hard their heads thudded loudly. Their eyes were filled with the fervor of becoming immortals.

Some even dragged over the half-grown children beside them and pressed their faces into the dirt, terrified that they might show the slightest disrespect to the immortals.

In midair, the young cultivator watched the mortals below grovel and wag their tails, and the mockery in his eyes grew ever stronger.

"A pack of fools."

He slowly raised his right hand. Within his sleeve, a flying sword wreathed in dark green poisonous fire hummed and trembled.

Meanwhile, deep within the distant mountains.

Lu Chen, who had been dozing before a cave, suddenly opened his clouded eyes.

Just moments ago, a ripple of spiritual energy had ridden the mountain wind from the direction of the village.

For an old martial artist at death's door, he should not have noticed such a faint ripple of spiritual energy.

But he had once crawled through mountains of corpses and seas of blood; his sense for killing intent was exceptionally sharp.

That was killing intent meant to slaughter everything!

Lu Chen dragged his body, long drained dry and withered, to the cliff's edge and narrowed his eyes. Though he could not clearly see the figures, the pressure was still gathering.

His grizzled beard and hair whipped wildly in the mountain wind. Lu Chen's once-hunched back straightened somewhat at this moment.

"Cultivators..."