After My White Moonlight Killed Me - Chapter 1

The secret chamber was dim, permeated with an eerie, cold, and damp atmosphere. The candlelight flickered with a crackle, its trembling, faint glow illuminating the figure sitting cross-legged on the stone bed.

A quarter of an hour later, as the spiritual currents surged throughout his body and broke through the blockade of his spiritual meridians, the iron chains on his limbs snapped in response. He violently spat out a large mouthful of blood, and a crimson hue simultaneously spilled from his chest.

Song Huaiyan pressed against his chest and stood up; the pain was as sharp as a knife, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

He had actually thought that he was no longer afraid of pain.

His knuckles turned white from the force. His sleeve slipped down, exposing the mottled, crisscrossing scars on his thin wrists.

For ten years, he had believed he was suffering from a cold affliction, taking medicine every day and shedding blood every month… But as it turned out, these were merely means for his master to trick him into using his own body as medicine.

“Yan’er, you say that Master’s kindness to you is as heavy as a mountain; shouldn’t you repay it manifold? Surely you can spare this bit of blood, right?”

His master… Mu Changfeng, the sect leader of the Cangxuan Sect, wore the same gentle and affectionate smile as usual. With a blade as sharp as his icy gaze, he pierced through Song Huaiyan’s chest and extracted his heart’s blood.

“The time is almost here. This time, I must take your heart’s blood. Be a good boy and obey; Master is soft-hearted, so I will spare your life.”

However, a bird kept in captivity has no right to choose. Only after being skinned and deboned, with flesh and blood turned to mud, would its ultimate value be fully exhausted.

A self-deprecating, bitter smile flashed across his face as he stumbled toward the door. He had secretly memorized the method to open the door long ago, and there were no guards stationed outside.

Endless Peak soared into the clouds and was covered in snow year-round. It was the most isolated and chillingly cold place in the entire Luochun Mountain. Aside from the Windless Courtyard where the sect leader lived and Junior Brother Shen Yu’s Frosty Sky Dawn Courtyard, there were only occasional sweeping servants. No disciples guarded the area, nor did anyone dare to ascend at will.

The wind and snow poured into his mouth and nose, like cold knives scraping across his throat. He coughed up blood clots mixed with ice shards, and the blood flowing from his chest stained his blue-and-white cloud-patterned disciple uniform.

This uniform had once been his anchor and his glory.

The crimson blood splattered upon the white snow, blooming into a string of glaringly bright flowers.

He ran wildly with all his might, pressing one hand against his wound while clutching a jade token in the other. It was the token he had stolen when Mu Changfeng extracted his heart’s blood; with this token, he could break through the restrictions of the sect’s grand formation.

Yet, he could not just leave like this.

“After this, perhaps you can finally find release.” At that time, after taking his blood, Mu Changfeng wore a cold and nearly manic smile. “Your junior brother has already promised me; from now on, we won’t even need your blood anymore.”

His junior brother, Shen Yu, was Mu Changfeng’s closing disciple and an unprecedented talent of the Cangxuan Sect in a century. At only twenty years of age, he had already reached the peak of the Mystic Path.

Could it be that Mu Changfeng intended to use his junior brother as well?

Over the years, Mu Changfeng had treated Shen Yu with extreme fondness, reaching even a paranoid degree. Rumors that the junior brother and the sect leader were engaging in an illicit affair in exchange for supreme cultivation techniques were spreading like wildfire. Although Song Huaiyan had never believed them, what if his junior brother truly, genuinely liked Mu Changfeng…

No…

If his junior brother had misplaced his true feelings, he had to inform him of the truth as much as possible.

Mu Changfeng’s plot was definitely not that simple!

He stepped into the Frosty Sky Dawn Courtyard, walking with unsteady steps to the doorway. Gripping the token tightly to steady himself, he reached out to knock, only to find that the door was merely pushed ajar.

The moment he pushed the door open, a fierce, chilling light struck him. Taken completely by surprise, a sword pierced right through his heart.

His mind went blank for a fraction of a second before the agony and chill finally radiated outward from his chest.

Shen Yu’s hair was disheveled and he was breathing heavily, yet his eyes were as deep as an abyss, as bone-chillingly cold as the Snow-Negative Sword he held in his hand.

Song Huaiyan looked at the person before him in disbelief. His lips trembled as he managed to force out the words: “You… why…”

His voice was hoarse and blurred, like a broken wind-lantern whimpering in the wind, and its feeble spark was quickly blown out.

Hearing this, Shen Yu suddenly burst into laughter, his expression filled with a coldness and abhorrence never seen before: “Why… you actually ask me why? All these years, there hasn’t been a single moment when I didn’t want to kill you!”

“So…” Song Huaiyan’s lips parted halfway as blood surged from his throat, drowning out the words he wanted to speak.

So, you truly hated me this much…

As if all his strength had been drained, his legs could no longer support him. His trembling fingers gripped the long sword that pierced his chest, barely propping up his crumbling body.

Why does everyone love stabbing the exact same spot…

It really hurts.

The icy seal of the Snow-Negative Sword spread bit by bit outward from his chest, chilling him to the bone.

“…I’m… sorry.” He used all his strength, gritting his teeth, and spoke these words mixed with blood.

The swordsman’s brow seemed to twitch slightly. Tilting his head aside, his face was filled with utter disgust.

“You are even worthy of saying those three words?”

The long sword in his chest was abruptly yanked out, sending a spray of blood mixed with ice shards spurting into the air, and his palms were sliced open with deep, bone-revealing gasps. He staggered back a few steps and finally collapsed slowly to the ground.

The world spun upside down, and the boundless snow fell into his eyes. Clearly they were white snowflakes, yet what pressed down upon him was a heavy sheet of absolute darkness.

Endless Peak has always been this cold, hasn’t it…

“Junior Brother…”

He didn’t know if he could still make a sound.

“Be careful, Master…”

A small wooden carved figurine rolled out from his sleeve, tumbling across the red blood and white snow before coming to a halt right in front of those immaculate white boots.

“And… Happy birthday…”

Before he could even manage to close his eyes, the world before him had already gone completely black.

“Old Yan, Old Yan!”

The voice came through as if separated by a thick layer of water—now distant, now near, unclear and muffled. Song Huaiyan forced his eyes open, dazed for a moment before he finally managed to recognize the person standing before the counter.

Ye Wan wore black leather clothes and pants, a tight-fitting bandeau outlining her perfect curves. She pulled her sunglasses halfway down the bridge of her nose, her peach-blossom eyes rolling over him: “What kind of spring dreams are you having in broad daylight? I’ve been calling you for ages and you didn’t react at all!”

Song Huaiyan shifted his gaze to look around, realizing he was still inside the traditional medicine shop “Liang Buyi.” He lowered his eyelashes halfway to suppress the lingering emotions still unsettled in the depths of his eyes, curved his lips, and smiled: “You interrupted a good dream, how do you plan to compensate me?”

“Playing the victim now, aren’t you, young man!” Ye Wan let out a light click of her tongue. “No matter how good a dream is, it’s fake. If you’ve got the chops, go find yourself a real one in reality!”

“Alright, alright, it’s just me lacking the chops.” Song Huaiyan’s eyes curved into crescents as he shook his head helplessly. His eyes fell somewhere between phoenix eyes and peach-blossom eyes; their shape was slender, the outer corners elegantly upturned, with a faint pool of moisture in his gaze that always seemed to carry a smile.

“Still single at your age—are you planning to embrace the unknown future for the rest of your life?” Although Ye Wan was a few years younger than Song Huaiyan, she always loved putting on an elder’s posture to lecture and earnestly advise him: “An idler in youth makes for an old fool in despair. Surely you aren’t expecting the good fortune of a nice younger sister falling from the sky to fall on you, right?”

“I’ve learned my lesson, please spare me.”

“Say, why don’t you team up with me to do live streams? With your looks, I guarantee you’d break the internet!” Ye Wan’s eyes lit up. “I stayed up late reading a novel yesterday called After Losing My Memory, My Mortal Enemy Became My Master. It’s a tragic xianxia romance about the love-hate entanglements between a sect master and his little disciple. The character of the senior brother in there suits you to a T!”

“If I form a CP with you, won’t your little fans get jealous?” Song Huaiyan smiled, masking the hoarseness in his throat.

“Nah, the senior brother is fiercely independent and single; there’s no CP for him.” Ye Wan chuckled sheepishly. “Because he’s just cannon fodder, but his image and temperament match you completely. I’m forcing this novel on you as a must-read!”

“—Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Song Huaiyan stood up and walked toward the counter, changing the subject: “What would you like to drink today?”

“A cup of ‘Threefold Primordial Qi’ and a cup of ‘Soul-Stirring Sorrow,’ and make the first one low-sugar.” Ye Wan winked one eye at him, pushed her sunglasses back up, and curled her lips into a smile. “Today’s little darling is extra sweet, and I’m afraid my sugar intake will exceed the limit.”

“Another commission, huh? Looks like today is yet another day serving ‘Madam’.” Song Huaiyan joked with her while brewing the herbal milk tea.

He mixed and stirred angelica, astragalus, and red date water with fresh milk, adding a small spoonful of honey into the blend. His movements were slightly sluggish, occasionally turning his back to her to desperately suppress the trembling of his fingertips.

“An unromantic old man like you wouldn’t understand the joy of pampering a little beauty with sweet nothings,” Ye Wan bantered as usual.

While the two were talking, Song Huaiyan had already prepared the two cups of herbal milk tea, packaged them, and handed them over.

“Twenty yuan received via Alipay.”

Accompanied by the familiar female voice, Ye Wan shook her phone, hooked the bag holding the two cups of milk tea with her fingers, and stepped out in her high-heeled leather boots.

“I’ll reward you with this pocket change. Your complexion doesn’t look too good, go tonic yourself!”

Watching Ye Wan straddle her little scooter and speed off into the distance, Song Huaiyan stepped back a bit unsteadily. The smile vanished from his pale face as he closed his eyes and breathed softly, the fine beads of cold sweat on his temples dampening his drooping locks of hair.

Although it was just a dream earlier, everything that happened was something he had truly, undeniably experienced. The pain of being pierced through the heart felt like a bone-deep knife and clinging maggots, and at this moment, faint, fragmented sensations of pain still seemed to tear at his nerves. Separated across two worlds and a hundred years of time, it was inescapable.

He slowly sat down and looked down at the palms of his hands. His current body was completely intact, without a single scar.

Those events all belonged to a “past life.”

He tried his best to calm his chaotic state of mind, wishing to carve all those memories out of his head.

In a haze of consciousness, he felt his body sway, spinning the world around him.

“Why is it happening again…” He frowned, steadying himself against the counter while feeling a rising wave of nausea.

These aftereffects aren’t going to drag on endlessly, are they?

The ground beneath him shook violently a few times, causing the lamps on the roof beams to rattle with a creaking sound.

No! Was this an earthquake?

Song Huaiyan stood up abruptly and rushed toward the door, colliding head-on with their neighbor, Auntie Liu, who was walking inside.

“Little Song, I think my high blood pressure, high blood sugar, and high cholesterol are acting up again; I feel like the world is spinning…” Auntie Liu held her forehead. “Hurry up and prescribe me some medicine…”

“Auntie Liu, it’s an earthquake! It’s not your health acting up!” Song Huaiyan grabbed her arm and ran outside.

“What? An earthquake? How could there be an earthquake here?” Auntie Liu was dragged along, her face full of absolute disbelief.

Song Huaiyan also found it unimaginable. The place where they lived had been taught since childhood to be entirely outside any seismic belt even during the golden twelve seconds of reaction time, people here could easily spend thirteen seconds just standing there blankly.

The earthquake continued, shaking the entire street with a rhythmic rattle, as if a vicious dragon slumbering beneath the earth was about to burst through the soil.

Realizing something was wrong, the people on the street walked outside one after another, though none of them had any sense of urgency to flee for their lives. Most of them exchanged blank, bewildered stares for a moment before looking down at their phones to send messages, spread the news, or check Weibo trending topics.

After all, for a major earthquake you couldn’t run anyway, and for a minor earthquake you didn’t need to run.

Song Huaiyan instinctively sensed that this sudden earthquake was bizarre, and seeing the gloomy clouds blocking the sun in the sky, a nameless panic and irritability surged within his heart. After settling Auntie Liu down, he avoided the crowds and headed toward West Street.

At the end of West Street stood a funeral goods store with the three characters “Hall of All Affairs” written on its dilapidated plaque. At this moment, the entire courtyard was shrouded in black mist, and the dark vapor kept expanding outward into the surroundings.

It really was an apparition.

Song Huaiyan’s brows furrowed slightly as he conjured four talismans in his hand, quickly hurling them toward those dispersing clusters of black mist. As the talismans burned in mid-air, the black mist seemed ignited, swallowed up entirely by the flames. He drew talismans with his blood once more, pinning four talismans down at the four corners of the courtyard.

The shaking of the ground stopped, and the wind blew in carrying dust from the street, causing the wooden bell on the porch to emit a crisp chime. Standing before the dilapidated wooden door of the Hall of All Affairs, Song Huaiyan shuddered all over as an intricate chill welled up from the bottom of his heart.

It was nearly late spring, and the weather was humid and warm. It had also been a very long time since he last felt cold.

The Hall of All Affairs was a place to guide wandering souls, yet ordinary souls would not generate such a massive quantity of apparitions. Furthermore, those apparitions just now did not look like they originated from a single person.

Pausing at the doorway to steady himself, Song Huaiyan clenched his fists and reached out to push the door open, only to find that it was merely ajar.

The instant the door swung open, a fierce, chilling blade flashed toward him!

Song Huaiyan instinctively dodged the strike and rushed quickly into the courtyard. The sword-edge behind him followed closely; he sidestepped to evade it, and soon that person was already bearing down upon him again with fierce swordsmanship, cutting through the wind.

The sword forms were utterly, terrifyingly familiar.

Song Huaiyan reacted a beat too slow, barely managing to dodge the fatal spot. The icy blade grazed past his neck, drawing a string of blood droplets. He instinctively touched his neck, and a layer of frost had already formed over the wound.

He raised his eyes in a daze, and clearly recognized the cold, transcendent face of the newcomer.

Shen Yu.

…How could it be him?