Farewell to the Xuantian Sword Vein

At the same time, the moonlight was beautiful.

A figure in vivid red darted through the shadows cast by the moon, leaping and twisting through the dense forest.

It was Ye Shu, who had already left the demonic path.

Whether out of habit or for some other reason, he still wore the bright red wedding robe that Liu Ruyi had sewn for him with her own hands, letting the wild wind make the hem flap noisily.

It definitely wasn’t because it looked cool or anything.

He was over forty years old, had two children, and had long outgrown his phase of adolescent delusions.

“So this is the scent of freedom,” Ye Shu murmured softly after taking a light breath of the air brushing past his ears. “If I leave like this, will Liu Ruyi do something to that guy Aqi?”

“Probably not. As long as he takes out that note I wrote in time, she shouldn’t harm him. After all, a day as husband and wife means a hundred days of kindness, and since we were married properly, she’ll at least show me some face in public.”

With that thought, Ye Shu’s heart suddenly felt light.

Under the moonlight, he held the map Aqi had given him, which marked the strongholds of the Wordless Pavilion, and sped off into the distance.

“The Wordless Pavilion… I really do miss it.”

Back then, he was young and reckless. Just as Qian Jiang had suffered a sudden reversal of fortune and fallen on hard times, the two found themselves in similar straits. By chance, they hit it off, and on a whim, Ye Shu founded the Wordless Pavilion alongside him.

In truth, the theory he’d proposed back then was pure nonsense meant to fool Qian Jiang.

After all, in a supernatural world of vast territories, what use could a bunch of beggars serve? Supposing information needed to be transmitted from the Eastern Wasteland to the Central Continent, an ordinary mortal would spend an entire lifetime walking and never arrive.

So Ye Shu hadn’t expected any results from it.

At the time, he just thought it absurd that in a world of transcendence, where matter could be conjured from nothing, there were still beggars.

So, he casually tossed out a few handouts.

“Never expected that Qian Jiang would grow the Wordless Pavilion this big—enough to reach the Central Continent, even into the demonic sect’s headquarters,” Ye Shu shook his head with some amusement.

That was the perfect example of “planting willows without intent, yet the shade grows of its own accord.”

“It’s been years since we last met. I really do miss him.”

“On the way, I might also pick up news about Lin Qingxue and the others.” Ye Shu’s eyes flickered as he sped away into the distance.

...

The moonlight was like silver. Among a lush stretch of forest, dozens—if not hundreds—of figures were swiftly traveling toward some unknown direction under the cover of night.

Each one wore a black robe with a golden embroidered character on the chest.

That character was “Mo.”

“All of you, hurry up,” urged the leader, whose attire differed slightly from the others—his sleeves had a silver border, marking his higher status and more powerful aura.

He was pressing the group behind him.

“We’ve finally found one of the Wordless Pavilion’s strongholds and clues about the remnants of the Azure Sect. This time, we must capture them!”

“Yes!”

The black-robed figures behind him responded in hushed tones and followed the leader like silent ghosts, gliding swiftly through the shadows of the moonlight.

Not far away, on a crooked tree branch, a pair of eyes silently watched them.

“Mo family people?”

The hidden observer was none other than Ye Shu.

On his way to the stronghold, the small figure above his head had suddenly vibrated slightly, as if sensing something. It meant that nearby there was a trace of the breath of fate and consequence. So Ye Shu immediately stopped, hid himself in a distant tree, and happened to catch sight of these sneaky Mo family members.

“Are these guys looking for the Wordless Pavilion too?”

Ye Shu frowned.

Without a second thought, it must be that Qian Jiang, upon learning that Ye Shu had been persecuted by the six noble families, had mobilized the Wordless Pavilion’s power to retaliate, only to have the pursuers trace back to their location.

But that wasn’t the key point.

The key was—“Remnants of the Azure Sect.”

Since the other party mentioned those words, it couldn’t be groundless.

“Could it be that Qian Jiang is sheltering the Azure Sect?”

Ye Shu frowned. He suppressed the speculation in his mind, flickered his form, and stealthily followed behind the group of black-robed figures, slipping deeper into the dense forest.

Whatever the case, following these people was definitely the right call.

If there were members of the Azure Sect here, it meant Qian Jiang might very well be in this place as well. Judging by the configuration of this group—the leader being a Nascent Soul cultivator—the Azure Sect person staying here probably wasn’t an elder or mountain master.

It was more likely an ordinary disciple.

Or even… Lin Qingxue.

At that thought, Ye Shu’s heart couldn’t help but stir with excitement. Over a decade had passed; for all he knew, the child might already be old enough to call him “Dad.” He took a deep breath, suppressed his emotions, and continued tailing the black-robed figures.

The forest ahead grew denser. Moonlight was blocked by layer upon layer of overlapping canopy, making the path nearly pitch-black. But the black-robed figures moved as if they had walked this path countless times before, their pace unwavering.

Finally, they stopped before a hidden valley.

The leader raised his hand and made a gesture.

“It’s here.”

Ahead was a thick growth of shrubs.

At that moment, everyone held their breath, listening with full attention.

Ye Shu stared fixedly ahead, quieting even his own breathing in sync with those black-robed figures.

Behind the shrubs lay a lake.

Moonlight scattered across the water’s surface, creating shimmering ripples. At the center of the lake stood a massive blue stone, upon which a young man in a moon-white disciple robe sat cross-legged. In his right hand, he held a single sword, resting with eyes closed, breathing evenly, his expression calm.

Ye Shu’s pupils widened abruptly. He recognized that man at a glance.

It was his Second Senior Brother, Lu Shouzhuo.