After the Immortal Venerable Failed to Attain Dao - Chapter 8

Xuanqing Sect, Ask Heaven Island.

The moon hung high in the sky, sword shadows crisscrossed, and the snow from Chaotic Snow Peak blew over, carrying a biting chill.

Shi Li held Hua Jing in his hand, his gaze calm as he surveyed the surrounding disciples. Their faces were filled with either indignation or resentment, cold and menacing, watching him like tigers eyeing their prey.

They gripped their swords and stepped forward, unmoving, waiting only for that final command: “Attack together.”

Amid the swift assaults of dozens of longswords, Shi Li broke through the encirclement with a flash of silver light, gradually disarming the five men beside him. One of them seized the opportunity to strike at his lower back but shifted his aim to the calf at the last moment, missing the best chance. Shi Li kicked him, breaking his wrist and sending his sword clattering to the ground.

Shi Li only glanced at him as he turned, not calling a halt. The man quickly stood up, switched his sword to his left hand, and charged again.

The snow from Chaotic Snow Peak swept in completely, filling the training ground with a bone-chilling cold, yet the battle showed no signs of stopping.

It wasn’t until Hua Jing was stained with blood, leaving a wound on each of their necks, that Shi Li sheathed his sword and called for a stop.

“If this were a real fight, Ask Heaven Island would already be wiped out. Everyone, go back and reflect on your performance. Report to the master tomorrow.”

His gaze was cold as he swept it over the men before him. “The sect’s recruitment is approaching. There will be plenty of talented newcomers, and everyone risks being overshadowed. If anyone doesn’t want to stay or dares not stay, there’s no need to report just leave on your own.”

The disciples exchanged glances, silent, and one by one picked up their swords and returned to their quarters.

Only one remained, his right hand hanging limply, standing in place. “Senior Brother.”

“Zhong Ling, if that strike of yours had landed, my strength would have been spent, and you would have won tonight.” Shi Li grabbed his broken wrist, gathering spiritual energy in his palm to restore it to its original state. “Next time, don’t hesitate, or I’ll send you off the island.”

Zhong Ling simply looked at him. “You’ve just practiced a new sword technique and returned to the island. How long has it been since you rested, Senior Brother?”

Shi Li smiled faintly. “I just asked the master the same question. She said it hasn’t been long, and she’ll rest tomorrow. I’ll rest after she does.”

Zhong Ling nodded and added, “Every time I see you, Senior Brother, you’re always on the move, as if you never tire.”

“If I dared to tire, you all would have defeated me a hundred times over,” Shi Li turned away. “Go back. Tomorrow, you’ll write an extra reflection for the master.”

“What should I write?”

“Write about your misplaced concern for your elders,” Shi Li said as he walked away, his voice carrying from a distance. “Tell her to rest early and study the new sword technique after she wakes up. Otherwise, your senior brother might die first.”

Zhong Ling chuckled and called after his retreating figure, “I’ll definitely write it, Senior Brother!”

Shi Li waved a hand from afar without looking back.

Zhong Ling picked up his sword and headed back, glancing down at the lingering spiritual glow on his wrist.

No one on the island dared to speak to Shi Li, thinking him fierce and unapproachable.

But Zhong Ling felt his senior brother was actually quite willing to chat. It was just that the people on their island had always looked down on each other, their relationships tense and confrontational. They rarely interacted privately, let alone sought out Shi Li for conversation.

Only he was bold enough to exchange a few words and even have his name remembered by his senior brother.

At the peak of Chaotic Snow, the area before the mountain gate was vast and empty. The Golden Turtle lay in deep slumber, and the full moon hung high in the sky.

As soon as Shi Li stepped onto the peak, he nestled into the arms of the person beside him, not waiting to be embraced but clinging tightly on his own.

“I’m even more energized after the fight. I can’t sleep. Should I go check on the master again?”

There was no response for a while, but he remained in the embrace, leaning against the person’s chest for a moment before feeling an arm wrap around his waist.

Then, a slight itch on the side of his neck a strand of hair had fallen and brushed against it. The figure tilted its head slightly, sniffing lightly at his neck as if searching for a spark of inspiration.

Shi Li gave it that spark, then released it to look at it.

The phantom demon knew he was tired. Its eyes regained a flicker of life as it pressed its forehead against his, then tilted its head slightly, its gaze falling upon his lips.

Amidst the cool wind and snow, two warm breaths suddenly intertwined. Their lips were soft and warm, pressed together, yet neither knew how to part them.

Shi Li pulled back, looked into its eyes, and chuckled softly, “You don’t even know how to do it yourself, yet you come to kiss me?” He patted its head, then pulled it back into his embrace, leaning against it with his whole being. “Don’t move. Let me hold you.”

Suddenly, a voice called from below, “Senior Brother? What are you doing?”

Shi Li froze. Zhong Ling, who had left not long ago, stood below, holding a sword in one hand, looking up at him. Behind Zhong Ling, a group of Wentian Island disciples stood silently, their gazes fixed upward.

Before he could withdraw the phantom demon, he felt a sudden lightness at his waist. The phantom demon held him with one hand while pulling out Huajing and plunging it deeply into his side with the other. Then, with a palm strike, it sent him tumbling from the peak. Before he hit the ground, all he saw was the phantom demon’s cold, azure eyes gazing through the wind and snow against the backdrop of the solitary moon, which resembled a jade plate.

Next, scattered flashes of sword light flickered before his eyes. Dozens of long swords pierced his body. Losing all strength, he was slammed heavily to the ground. Zhong Ling stood before him, gripping the hilt of his sword with both hands and raising it high. As blood sprayed from his chest, he heard a deep voice in his ear: “Wentian Island total victory”

The broken sword clattered to the ground, its cold iron scabbard striking with a heavy thud. Shi Che jolted awake from the nightmare, his back drenched in cold sweat, the pain and itch of the lightning scars flaring up.

Leaning against the headboard, he looked outside. The sky was not yet fully bright he had only closed his eyes for half an hour.

He had cleaned the sword not long ago, but not thoroughly enough traces of blood still remained on the blade.

It seemed to have reached its limit. After Shi Che picked it up, it trembled restlessly in his hand.

He had no choice but to borrow the jade token again, drawing out a stream of spiritual light to envelop the broken sword, soothing the restless sword spirits within.

A nearly ruined sword, crammed with two high-tier sword spirits even Shi Che himself felt stifled. Now, only the scabbard could serve as a facade of dignity.

“Just wait a little longer. The day after tomorrow, we’ll go to the Zhuojian Pool and wash you clean.”

A silver light emerged from the sword, irritably flinging the spiritual energy back into his face before darting back inside, wholly rejecting him.

The spiritual energy scattered in all directions. Shi Che frowned and tapped the blade. “Huajing, don’t throw a tantrum.”

But the Huajing sword spirit refused to emerge again. The broken sword hummed with discontent until the Pohuang sword spirit peeked out, absorbing the scattered spiritual energy in the air. Only then did the sword quiet down.

Shi Che felt annoyed again.

Huajing was the treasure he wielded at the peak of his glory. Its sword spirit had long been spoiled into arrogance, its pride higher than the heavens, and it struggled even more than he did to accept their current predicament.

When Pohuang was still intact, it could reluctantly share a sword with it.

But now that Pohuang was also broken, forcing the two sword spirits to coexist was no different from making a once-unrivaled treasure share a thatched hut and a broken bed with other sword spirits. Huajing probably wished it could destroy itself.

Shi Che sheathed the broken sword, stepped outside, and leaped onto the roof, taking in the majestic sight of the distant Xuqing Mountain peak.

He knew many things were far from ideal. Huajing had already endured much hardship in his hands.

But so what?

The famed treasure of the world is the splendid sight of a prosperous era, the tattered bronze of the apocalypse, and now it is nothing more than a lingering spirit in its final flicker of life.

If its master has yet to find liberation, how could it be its turn?

As dawn broke faintly over the peak of Chaotic Snow Mountain, Shi Li, holding his sword, leaned against the phantom demon and drifted into sleep. Suddenly, he felt a tickling sensation on his face, as if something had lightly brushed against it.

The tickle was intermittent, soft and fluffy, fluttering toward his face.

He frowned and reached out to grab it, but instead, he caught a warm hand in his palm, while the tickling persisted.

He opened his eyes to find the phantom demon, whose hand he held, unable to fend off the disturbance. Instead, it leaned slightly forward, shielding him in its embrace and using its body to block the assault of the dragon’s tail from above.

Shi Li wrapped his arms around the phantom demon, unsheathed Hua Jing, and scraped it fiercely against the tail that was still thrashing about in its sleep, tearing off a tuft of fur.

The Golden Ao remained deep in slumber, unaware, but its tail retreated dejectedly on its own.

Shi Li, still holding the phantom demon’s hand, complained, “It’s a dragon-turtle, yet its tail is so fluffy it only disturbs sleep. I’ll shave it bald tonight.”

Thinking Shi Li was still ticklish, the phantom demon half-lay on him, reached out, and poked his cheek, leaving a small dimple.

Amused, Shi Li gazed at the face so close to his and poked back.

After a while of poking each other, Shi Li glanced at the sky and said, “The sun is about to rise. It’ll get hot soon. Do you want to go back first? I’ll go wake the others for sword practice.”

The phantom demon only felt that it was time to turn back into a radish, spending the whole day without seeing Shi Li, and instinctively resisted the idea.

But Shi Li would no longer give it spiritual light. Sooner or later, it would have to slowly revert on its own.

It needed to think of a way to keep Shi Li by its side a little longer.

The phantom demon of the past would never have had such thoughts. But ever since it kissed Shi Li in the secret realm tenderly, passionately, with an embrace that felt as if it wanted to devour him it realized just how much Shi Li loved it.

No longer was it set aside simply because Shi Li had grown stronger and could slay all demons and ghosts on his own.

This wisp of its soul belonged to Shi Li, and Shi Li belonged to it.

So, just as Shi Li was about to rise and leave, it grabbed his hand and pulled him forcefully onto itself.

Then, as Shi Li’s eyes widened in surprise, it cupped the back of his head and kissed him.

“Mmm…”

Shi Li had never seen the phantom demon like this. They had only lightly brushed lips the night before, and now, in the morning, it gave him such a fierce kiss.

He tried to pull away slightly, but the phantom demon pressed him back down, clumsily prying open his lips as if imitating someone.

The kiss was messy and unskilled, tinged with a hazy dampness. Shi Li wanted to break free but was held tighter, feeling as if his mind was being kissed into a daze, about to sink into this sudden, sunlit embrace.

His sash loosened, and the phantom demon’s hands grew restless, trying to tug at his outer robe.

A sudden surge of anger flared within him.

This wisp of its soul had no innate talent for such things. Learning to kiss on its own was already the limit of his tolerance, and now it even wanted to undress him for more intimate contact.

Who taught it?

And how was it taught?

He thought of that face hidden behind a silver mask, laughing wantonly and speaking frivolously.

It went without saying.

Shi Li tried not to think about this outsider who could rival him, whose soul was just as significant. Undoubtedly, he too was incomplete. He wanted his own phantom demon, this wisp of soul that had been separated and belonged solely to him.

His gaze darkened as he gripped the phantom demon’s chin, forcing him away from his lips. “I want to take you back.”

To hide him away, to tuck him deep within himself, to make his soul whole again and never let it be seen by anyone.

That way, they couldn’t embrace or kiss, but at least this fragment of his soul would belong entirely to him, free from the risk of losing him or having to share him with anyone.

But the phantom demon looked at him and shook his head.

“I don’t want him to see you.” Shi Li’s thumb gently brushed the phantom demon’s lips, still damp from the kiss. The phantom demon instinctively parted his lips, as if someone had taught him to do so.

Shi Li’s expression darkened further. “Are you afraid he won’t find you if he comes?”

Shi Li was angry, and the phantom demon wanted to soothe him, but he didn’t know how to convey the trembling, fearful embrace from the secret realm.

He wanted Shi Li to understand he couldn’t disappear. That other Shi Li needed him too.

Before Shi Li could suppress the fire burning within him, the phantom demon grew frantic, breathing heavily and clinging tightly to him, as if terrified by his words, afraid of being taken back.

It took great effort for Shi Li to push him away. He had steeled himself with an icy, unyielding expression, but it crumbled the moment he met those slightly reddened, pleading blue eyes.

“Forget it.”

How novel. After just one trip outside, he’d even learned to cry.