The Collapse of Ye Jiuzhou

As time passed, Ye Jiuzhou's injuries gradually healed, and his strength returned to its peak.

The two continued their journey.

At this time, the disparity between them became glaringly obvious.

This gap was not just a chasm; it was the distance between two entirely different worlds.

When they encountered Nascent Soul stage demonic beasts, Ye Jiuzhou would simply point a finger. He didn't even need to draw his sword. With a light swipe of his index finger in the void, a golden sword energy would pour down like an overturned galaxy. The sword energy stretched for tens of thousands of feet, carrying the terrifying might of the Heavenly Phoenix Sword Bone, capable of boiling the seas and burning the skies.

The Nascent Soul demonic beasts couldn't even let out a scream before being reduced to dust by that sword energy, not even leaving behind a mist of blood.

He stood there with his hands behind his back, his robes fluttering wildly in the wind. Behind him were mountains shattered by a single finger and crushed rocks cascading down like a waterfall.

He looked like a deity descended to the mortal realm.

When encountering ancient sword arrays, Ye Jiuzhou could see through them at a single glance.

An ancient grand array that appeared profoundly mysterious to others and was capable of trapping and killing Soul Formation stage cultivators was like an open book in his eyes. The flow of every array line and the weakness of every node were completely laid bare.

With a casual wave of his hand, the sword energy from his fingertips accurately struck the core of the array's eye, and the entire grand array crumbled and shattered, as if its spine had been ripped out.

He was always so calm and unhurried, always handling things with such effortless grace, as if nothing in this world could make him expend even a single extra ounce of effort.

And Ye Xuan...

He was always the dead weight.

Following behind Ye Jiuzhou, he would watch those earth-shattering scenes with his mouth wide open and his eyes bulging like brass bells. Exclamations like "Holy shit," "Badass," and "Too cool" tumbled out of his mouth as if they cost nothing.

Then, he was responsible for the aftermath.

Skinning. Extracting tendons. Digging out demonic cores. Scavenging spirit herbs. Identifying magical treasures. Haggling. Cooking and washing dishes.

He had a very clear understanding of his role: I can't fight, but I can do the chores.

But watching this, Ye Jiuzhou felt uncomfortable in his heart.

His innate talent was simply too poor. A miscellaneous five-element spirit root, without any special physique.

The spiritual energy in his body was like five colors of dye mixed together—impure, unconsolidated, and blocked. Other cultivators circulated their spiritual energy as smoothly as spinning silk, but his spiritual energy circulation was like a pot of stirred-up porridge.

Ye Jiuzhou taught him a set of the Supreme Induction Scroll.

It was the simplest set among the foundational cultivation methods of the Sword God Palace. Ye Jiuzhou had learned it just by glancing at it once when he was a child.

Ye Xuan practiced it for three months and was still stuck on the first level.

Three months.

A cultivation method that others could grasp in three days.

He had practiced it for three months.

Every night, Ye Jiuzhou would pretend to enter a meditative state to rest, but in reality, he used his peripheral vision to watch Ye Xuan awkwardly swinging his sword under the moonlight.

Over and over again. Sweat soaked through the back of his clothes, clinging to his thin shoulder blades.

His movements were stiff and clumsy, his footwork was chaotic, and his sword forms were completely off. Nine times out of ten, he would trip over his own feet.

But he never slacked off, and he never complained of fatigue.

When he fell, he would get back up and continue practicing.

Watching this made Ye Jiuzhou feel a stifling weight in his chest.

"Too stupid."

One day, he finally couldn't hold back anymore. He walked over and snatched the iron sword right out of Ye Xuan's hand.

"Raise your wrist! Sink your qi to your dantian! Practicing like this, you'll only ever be a Golden Core cultivator even if you practice until you die!"

"With your aptitude, why the hell are you cultivating immortality! Wouldn't it be better to just be a wealthy mortal?"

When he said this, his tone was harsh and his expression cold, exactly the same as when he reprimanded the disappointing disciples of the Sword God Palace.

But he didn't realize that, without knowing it, he had already started personally correcting Ye Xuan's movements.

His hand pressed against Ye Xuan's wrist, adjusting his sword stance to the correct angle; his toe tapped Ye Xuan's ankle, correcting his footwork.

He clearly kept saying he wouldn't teach him, but his body was very honest.

Ye Xuan covered his head, not angry at all, still grinning cheerfully. His smile seemed carved into his face; no matter the situation, he could always smile.

"What's wrong with Golden Core? A Golden Core cultivator can live for a thousand years."

"Besides, don't I have you? Big Brother Ye, you're so amazing. In the future, if I drop your name, who would dare bully me?"

"You..." Ye Jiuzhou choked on his words in anger.

The corners of his mouth twitched violently, and the reprimand on the tip of his tongue ultimately dissolved into a helpless sigh.

But he was truly helpless.

Because every night, watching Ye Xuan clumsily swing his sword over and over, sweat soaking his back, the moonlight stretching his thin shadow long into the distance, Ye Jiuzhou's heart would soften.

This softening of his heart came without any reason.

Obviously, this person had no relationship with him whatsoever.

Obviously, this kind of aptitude was worse than a roadside stone in the cultivation world.

Obviously, he never felt soft-hearted toward the weak.

Yet he just couldn't harden his heart.

Because this kid, even though his talent was as trash as a pile of shit.

This tenacity to grit his teeth and persevere when everyone else said "you can't"—

Was exactly like himself back in the day.

That ten-year-old Ye Jiuhuang, who was rejected by everyone, sentenced to death by fate, yet stubbornly refused to concede defeat.

One day.

The two were sitting by a cliff, drinking.

This was a nameless cliff in the southern borders of the Central Continent, its face sheer as if cleanly sliced, overlooking a bottomless abyss.

Below the cliff was a vast, boundless sea of clouds, churning into golden-red waves under the reflection of the setting sun. Heaven and earth seemed entirely steeped in a cup of scalding strong liquor.

The sea of clouds tumbled, and the setting sun was like blood.

The final ray of sunlight slanted through the clouds, gilding the two of them with a warm golden edge.

Ye Xuan sat cross-legged on the most protruding boulder at the edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the tens of thousands of feet of empty space, completely unafraid of falling.

He held that seemingly bottomless jug of fiery liquor in his hand, occasionally taking a swig and squinting his eyes in contentment.

Ye Jiuzhou sat beside him, the two separated by a distance of about three feet.

His white robes fluttered, his long hair dancing in the wind, and the profile of his face was outlined by the setting sun like a meticulous brush painting.

He had not spoken for a long time.

He raised the wine jug in his hand to his lips, then lowered it, repeating the motion several times.

Finally.

"Ye Xuan."

Ye Jiuzhou suddenly spoke, his tone unusually serious. This seriousness was different from his usual cold arrogance and harshness; it was a heavy, solemn earnestness carrying some profound meaning.

"Just what exactly are you cultivating immortality for?"

"With your aptitude and your sword skills, unless you encounter a massive stroke of fortune, you have no hope of ever reaching the Nascent Soul stage in this lifetime. This path is too bitter, too difficult."

"Why do you still persist?"

When he asked this question, his eyes did not look at Ye Xuan, but instead gazed at the falling sun in the distance.

But Ye Xuan knew that this man, who was always so aloof and condescending, was being serious at this moment.

This was perhaps the most earnest thing Ye Jiuzhou had said since they met.

Hearing this, Ye Xuan put down the wine jug in his hand.

The jug rested on the stone surface, making a crisp sound.

His finger unconsciously circled the mouth of the jug a couple of times. His peach-blossom eyes reflected the blood-red evening glow filling the sky, and his gaze became distant and profound.

He looked at the setting sun in the distance. On his normally grinning and playful face, a rare trace of profound depth appeared.

It was an expression entirely different from his usual carefree and frivolous demeanor.

"For what?"

Ye Xuan smiled and pulled a picture book out from his robes.

The picture book was already very old, its pages yellowed and curled at the edges, the writing on the cover blurred and illegible. It was the Scroll of a Hundred Beauties circulated in the mortal realm, a crudely made pamphlet that could be bought for a few copper coins in any street or alley.

For beauties, of course.

Ye Xuan pointed at the fairy in the picture book, his eyes shining, hiding the most simple and passionate desire of a young boy.

Look, the book says it all. Only by becoming a great Sword Immortal can one ride the wind on a flying sword and eradicate demons across the world.

Only then can I make those lofty fairies, divine maidens, and demonesses fall in love with me.

The more he spoke, the more excited he became. He simply stood up and held the tattered picture book high above his head.

I want to marry a beautiful wife. No, I want to marry many!

Ye Xuan stood at the edge of the cliff, his robes filled by the mountain wind, billowing like sails. He opened his arms, facing the boundless sea of clouds, and shouted with all his might until his voice went hoarse:

I want to make all the peerless beauties in this world my Dao Companions!

This shout was carried by the mountain wind, echoing over the sea of clouds for a very, very long time.

Ye Jiuzhou: ...

He had originally thought Ye Xuan would declare some heroic ambition like establishing the heart for heaven and earth.

He was even prepared to be moved, and had even mentally rehearsed a scene where he would say, Although your aptitude is mediocre, your ambitions are lofty, so I, Ye Jiuzhou, am willing to lend you a helping hand.

And it turned out to be this?

Lecher! Shameless!

All the well-brewed emotion in his gut instantly vanished into thin air, replaced by an indescribable irritation.

Hopeless!

Ye Jiuzhou gave a cold snort and stood up with a flick of his sleeve. He swung his sleeve so forcefully that it whipped up a fierce astral wind, sweeping up several pieces of loose gravel by the cliff edge.

Cultivating immortality is to go against the heavens, to prove the Dao and achieve eternal life! And you are doing it for such vulgar desires?

Ye Xuan, I misjudged you.