Chapter 27: Heartless Whispers Stir the Soul

“Please, immortal master, I beg you to withdraw your divine power and release my brothers. If you don’t, they’ll soon be frozen here for all eternity!” Wan Xudong saw that Wen Yuge had paused her spell, but the divine power still lingered. His brothers remained trapped in ice, so he couldn’t help but plead again.

“The sooner you tell me your information, the sooner your brothers will be free—if you can move me. Don’t waste words.” Wen Yuge was unmoved. She glanced at Xiaoshuang and her companion. “You two, return at once. Even if your cultivation comes from the same source, you can’t withstand this for long.”

“Yes, master.” The two withdrew the ice shielding themselves and didn’t dare linger in the terrifying field of magic. They quickly hurried back into the sacred palanquin.

Wan Xudong swallowed hard, feeling numb from the neck down. He thought to himself that things were looking grim—he couldn’t afford to delay any longer.

“I’ve long heard that the Palace of Brocade Snow is unrivaled in the world for its ice magic. Seeing it today, the reputation is well deserved. However…” Wan Xudong began with flattery, but then his tone shifted. “However, for hundreds of years, no one from the Palace of Brocade Snow has been able to enter the Hall of First Snow, and not a trace has been left in the Autumn Immortal’s ruins. It truly is a pity.”

“That’s what you wanted to say?” Wen Yuge was sorely disappointed. She was about to cast another spell when Wan Xudong exclaimed in terror, “Wait, please wait!”

He no longer dared to play games. Word by word, he declared, “I know the whereabouts of the ‘Ice Word Incantation’ from the Divine Language of the Nine Immortals!”

This time Wen Yuge was truly stunned. Her hands, which had been poised to cast a spell, gradually loosened. She stepped back and slumped into the sacred palanquin, her eyes wide and dazed. Suddenly, her gaze became piercing, her face contorted with excitement as she clutched the threshold of the palanquin, breathing heavily. “Is that true?”

Wan Xudong let out a long sigh, nodding vigorously.

Night deepened.

Before a grand mansion in Yuma County, a dark figure appeared silently. Floating beside him was the body of a young boy, hovering eerily in the night. The shadow didn’t pause, striding straight into the mansion. The boy’s body drifted in after him.

The gatekeeper on night duty, seeing the shadow, immediately knelt and shouted, “Master Ji has returned! Welcome home, Master Ji!”

His voice was loud and clear, echoing through the entire residence. Within moments, the mansion was ablaze with lantern light. Servants bustled to and fro, preparing hot water and night snacks for Master Ji, not daring to slacken for a moment.

Master Ji now sat in the center of the main hall. Sumu’s body was laid out on the open floor before him. Sumu had not awakened yet. Though his body was somewhat repaired by his cultivated vital essence and star energy, his reserves were exhausted; he had only barely managed to stop the bleeding.

“Heiya, how many are still here?” Master Ji suddenly asked this question for no apparent reason, though there was no one else in front of him.

“My lord, apart from Ye Yin, Ye Wu, and Ye Shen preparing your medicinal bath, the others are all present,” came the reply from a strange figure just outside the door—a figure Sumu had glimpsed at the city gates—a hairless head shining in the moonlight.

“No need to hurry back to the imperial capital. Wait here two days. After the boy has had his medicinal bath, we’ll see how things stand. If he survives, we’ll head for Death Ridge instead.” Master Ji tapped the armrest of his chair and closed his eyes to rest.

“As you command.” The man outside, named Heiya, replied softly before vanishing into the darkness.

Master Ji reclined in his grand chair, eyes closed in repose, lost in thought. Only when a servant tiptoed forward to whisper, “Master Ji, everything you requested is prepared,” did he respond with a wordless hum, not even opening his eyes. The servant withdrew respectfully, backing out of the hall.

“Decades of searching and research, and now the answer falls to you. Don’t disappoint me,” Master Ji murmured, suddenly opening his eyes and sitting up, narrowing his gaze at Sumu.

Three days passed in a flash. In his coma, Sumu felt himself enveloped by a strange sensation, as if his body was wrapped in something indescribable. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he finally opened his eyes.

When his eyes cleared, he saw several grotesque, ugly men staring at him unblinking.

Instinctively, Sumu tried to shrink back, only to find himself trapped in a large wooden tub. Only his head was exposed; the rest of his body was sealed tightly inside by a heavy lid.

“Who are you people? Where am I? Why are you soaking me in this tub?”

Panic seized Sumu. Could these be the legendary man-eating savages? Had they found his wounds so severe that they intended to cook and eat him? With that terrifying thought, Sumu began shouting in hopes someone might hear and save him.

“This kid is something else. He spent three days in the Six Insect Starbath and didn’t react as if nothing happened. Incredible, incredible,” said one of the ugly men, who had two gaping holes instead of a nose, stroking his chin in amazement.

“I remember a trained comrade who, after a severe injury, was ordered by Master Ji to spend two hours in this bath. He was on the verge of death, screaming to get out—willing to be crippled rather than stay in. This kid can’t be human,” grunted another, a one-eyed giant, who eyed Sumu warily and stepped further away.

“Six insect, seven insect—whatever. Let me out! Who are you?!” Sumu was thoroughly unsettled by their banter and tried to struggle free, but his star energy was completely depleted. He couldn’t muster the slightest strength, no matter how he tried.

“Ye Hai, go fetch the master. Tell him the boy’s awake and lively,” ordered the nearest man—a bald fellow whose lack of hair, eyebrows, and beard made Sumu stare at him twice. This was none other than Heiya, who now watched Sumu with a strange expression, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Now that Sumu was awake, he felt increasingly uncomfortable—the weird sensation stronger than ever. He could feel with his hands that, besides water, there were many substances in the tub, but he couldn’t identify any of them.

“Oh? You’re awake? Do you feel any different?” Master Ji soon arrived, impatience clear in his voice as he entered. His face lit up with delight as he crouched and examined Sumu left and right.

“You’re the one from the city gate. Why have you trapped me here? I feel like there’s something all over me. It’s uncomfortable.” Sumu recognized Master Ji and was puzzled by his actions; the man was clearly powerful, so why imprison him?

Master Ji smiled and stood up, addressing the others. “Leave us. I need a word with the young man.”

The big men bowed and filed out, closing the door. Once they were gone, Master Ji pulled up a chair and sat across from Sumu.

“You were gravely injured. You exhausted your star energy and pushed yourself far too hard. If I hadn’t intervened, you wouldn’t have survived the night.”

Sumu bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you, sir, for saving my life.”

“No need for that. There are things you need to know. What is your name?” Master Ji sighed. “Prepare yourself. Though you’re young, I can see you’re a person of feeling. For your own good, I won’t let you out just yet.”

Sumu was full of confusion. What did this man intend?

“My name is Sumu. Whatever you have to say, please say it. I can handle it.”

“Very well. First, you’ve overdrawn your star energy to a grave degree. For years to come, you’ll have no hope of using your powers, and even if your energy recovers, your cultivation will not progress a single step.”

Master Ji spoke slowly. The words struck Sumu like a thunderbolt. Anyone who has tasted the power of star energy becomes intoxicated by it. To be cast back to the life of an ordinary person—ten out of ten would find it unbearable.

“Is that so? If it’s gone, then so be it. Once I find that important person, save Anrui, we’ll live happily as ordinary people. That’s good enough.” Sumu wanted to cry, but refused to lose face in front of Master Ji. It took him a long time to get the words out, his voice trembling without him realizing it.

“It’s best that you can accept it. Second…” Master Ji watched Sumu closely, his tone amused. “The matter of your box.”

“My box? Where is it?” Sumu asked anxiously.

“Here.” Master Ji took the box from his robes and held it right before Sumu’s eyes.

It was so close that Sumu could see every detail—the grain and the wax seal on the lid, clearly untouched. He breathed a long sigh of relief; at least the box wasn’t lost. Otherwise, how could he face his sister in the afterlife?

“This box is yours, and intact, yes?”

“Yes, thank you for keeping it safe.”

“Good.” Without warning, Master Ji slapped the box. With a crack, it burst into splinters.

“What are you doing?!” Sumu was shocked and furious, but as the words left his mouth, realization dawned. He stopped, shaking his head in disbelief. The box, smashed to pieces, was empty—there was nothing inside.

“No! You’re lying. This isn’t my box. You switched it! Give it back! There’s no way my sister would lie to me!” Sumu’s eyes were red, his teeth gritted as he howled at Master Ji, thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free. Master Ji only sat quietly across from him, a trace of pity in his eyes.

“You understand now?”

“No, no, I don’t believe it. Was all our hardship and suffering a lie? Why did she teach me to cultivate? Why did she deceive me?” Sumu’s voice grew softer and softer, until he was murmuring to himself. He recounted, one by one, every moment he had shared with Jiang Yingying, his words laced with longing and sorrow.

Master Ji listened closely. When Sumu finished, he suddenly said, “You know the truth. She taught you to cultivate so you could protect yourself, to draw enemies farther away. The box was a decoy, meant to distract your pursuers. Most likely, she planned to abandon you from the very beginning. Everything she taught you was the most basic and commonplace stuff—she never intended for you to progress any further. Even the things everyone knows about cultivation, she didn’t bother to teach you, thinking you wouldn’t live long enough for it to matter.”

Sumu could not cry; he had never had tears. He was a deeply affectionate boy, and now, just as he had set foot on the path of cultivation, he was dealt blow after blow. No one had ever truly cared for him. No one had been sincere. For a boy of thirteen, it was a soul-crushing despair.

“That’s not true! I watched my sister Yingying die with my own eyes! You’re lying!” Sumu shouted, his voice rising to a roar. “You must wake up—Jiang Yingying likely only faked her death!”

“Why is it like this? Why am I so quick to trust others? Why does everyone have to hurt and deceive me? Why, why, why?!” He began almost in a whisper, but his voice grew louder and louder until he was shouting at Master Ji, the sound booming through the hall.