The Past, Faint and Fleeting

Xiang Yin knew that her spiritual energy was insufficient; to confront her enemies in human form would surely put her at a disadvantage. Revealing her true form exerted a tremendous pressure on the group. Qin Chuan caught a glimpse of that monstrous body, and at once his spirit quaked, his blood flowing in reverse throughout his body.

At that critical moment, a wisp of aura separated from the Dao Pill, merged into his flesh, and severed the oppressive force directly. Qin Chuan’s face was pale with shock; he could not help but rejoice in his heart, and he staggered back two steps, then turned and fled.

If he did not run now, would he really stay to become Xiang Yin’s midnight snack?

He was no match for Xiang Yin at all; merely glimpsing her true form nearly undid him, and if not for the protection of the Dao Pill, he would already have met his end here.

Xiang Yin had noticed the strange change in Qin Chuan as well. Between her diamond-shaped pupils, hatred flared ever brighter. Her serpentine tongue flicked from her mouth, emitting sharp hisses that seemed poised to dissolve Qin Chuan’s flesh and bone.

Meanwhile, the sword hummed, its blade glowing with a sharpness never before seen.

“Damn you all! You should die! Return my Dao Pill to me!” Xiang Yin tried several times to bypass the sword and attack Qin Chuan directly, but was repeatedly blocked. Driven to fury, she unleashed her full strength upon the sword.

Thunderous blasts echoed as the sword was battered backward again and again.

Firstly, the sword’s spiritual power was already nearly spent. Secondly, it was meant to serve as the core of the sealing array, not as a weapon for combat.

Now, as it protected Qin Chuan outside the array’s shelter, it grew ever weaker.

The sword’s light faded, while Xiang Yin’s body became riddled with gaping wounds—one as long as three yards—yet the more she bled, the fiercer her gaze became.

“You all deserve to die! Die, die!” Her voice scraped like the grinding of scales, buzzing so that the entire mountain range trembled.

Qin Chuan hastily activated the Dust of Profound Breath; stones exploded behind him, narrowly missing his body, grazing his skin and leaving thin lines of blood.

It was only after Qin Chuan escaped the sealing array that he stopped, taking a long breath.

Fortunately, both his spiritual and physical cultivation had reached the fifth tier; otherwise, he would surely have been caught in the aftermath and left a corpse.

“Qin... Qin Chuan, is it?” Wan Tong’s eyes were vacant, hollow enough to evoke pity. Supported by the others, she fumbled her way toward him.

“Yes, Senior Sister, thank you for everything...” Qin Chuan’s voice was heavy after a long silence.

“The array is intact, the sect is safe, and that is enough for Wan Tong.” The others remained quiet, only Fang Mu opened his mouth as if to speak, but swallowed his words, his gaze complicated.

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After struggling to find a brief moment of calm, thunderous rumbling erupted ahead, shaking the earth so wildly that they could barely stand.

A blue light flashed, and the sword landed in Qin Chuan’s hand. Yet his expression grew ever more grave.

The last trace of will within the sword dissipated with a final hum. When Qin Chuan came to himself, he looked toward the mountain peak and forced a bitter smile.

The sword was asking him to restore it to the array’s core; otherwise, within half a year, Xiang Yin would break through what remained of the sealing array. Then, the entire domain would collapse.

If the yin energy flooded into the sect, it would become a wasteland of ghosts for a thousand miles.

“You all should leave now!” Qin Chuan said after a moment’s thought, a hint of self-mockery in his tone—he still could not abandon his old heart.

He could not let go of that innocence, or perhaps the version of himself from the days in Crooked Date Village.

If it were back then, he would have taken up this task without hesitation.

Hearing his words, Big Kidney was surprised, but then struck Wan Tong on the back of her neck, knocking her out.

He regarded Qin Chuan anew, seeing the resolve in his eyes. “Junior Brother Qin Chuan.” He clasped his hands and bowed deeply.

“Take care!”

The others bowed as well, even Fang Mu’s gaze lost its complexity as he offered a simple farewell.

Were this the old tale, now would be the time of a bright moon, a long solitary shadow, a man and his wine.

But here, there was no moon, no slender shadow, no strong drink—only a dark sky, cold wind, and the pitted earth.

A weary youth in tattered robes, holding a sword dull as an ordinary blade.

Qin Chuan staggered forward two steps, glanced back, and saw the others turn to look at him. In that fleeting moment, warmth blossomed in his heart.

“I like to drink. Do you have any at your place?”

“I do. When you come, there’ll be plenty.”

Like the casual greeting of old friends. Fang Mu tried to speak again, but found his throat choked. To be his friend wasn’t so bad after all.

Approaching the array, Qin Chuan slowed, wondering what he might be doing now if war had never come.

Those childhood scenes, once so often imagined, now seemed impossibly distant.

“My elder sister must have married by now—either to the blacksmith’s son at the village entrance or the scholar’s nephew. The child must be born already.”

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“Mother’s old rheumatism never improves. She should see a doctor in the county town.”

“Grandfather only ever drank two ounces of Blue Bridge Moon, and before he could hold his grandson, he was gone.”

“At this hour every day, Father always watched the neighbor’s Xiao Huan. I wonder if he’ll ever break that habit...”

Small bridges, running water, humble homes; ancient roads, western wind, a lean horse.

Memories hazy, eyes wet with tears.

Looking back, the distance grows ever greater.

Lost in thought, Qin Chuan did not notice the sword talisman at his waist glowing ever brighter, vibrating with increasing intensity.

A subtle aura unfurled, growing denser with every step.

Ten yards, a hundred yards...

Like the lingering melody of a sword’s edge, resounding as if an endless tune, echoing through the air.

Gradually, Qin Chuan forgot what he was supposed to be doing; he only remembered he could invoke a secret technique to draw the array’s spiritual energy to himself, and restore the sword to the mountain peak.

Within the array, Xiang Yin was left without a target, attacking the formation in wild frustration, causing constant thunderous crashes and rocks to tumble.

Suddenly, her diamond-shaped pupils contracted sharply, and she saw Qin Chuan, swaying like a drunkard, step across the array with no protection at all.

“Huh?”

The serpent’s head rose high, frozen in disbelief for a long moment. A strange thought surfaced—had this fool lost his mind?

Perhaps his brain was addled by the flying rocks?

Yes, that must be it.

Her eyes narrowed, radiating murderous intent, and she lunged to bite Qin Chuan.

Just as Xiang Yin was about to devour him, a foul wind struck his body, and Qin Chuan was jolted into clarity.

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