The Vicious Cannon Fodder Despised by Everyone Really Doesn't Want to Go Viral - Chapter 38

The jade towers and golden pavilions of Tianque Mansion vanished into nothingness beneath Xie Zhuoyu’s cold blade. Luo Xingzhi collapsed in a pool of blood. With the death of its master, the once unrivaled first family of Zhongzhou completely crumbled.

The remaining members of the Luo clan either fell to the disciples of other great families sent to purge evil or they fled amidst the chaos.

Xie Zhuoyu watched everything in silence. There was no joy, and there was no sense of relief. He stood among the ruins of Tianque Mansion, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped his sword. Blood dripped from his fingertips onto the ground, blooming like crimson plum blossoms.

Yun Qi walked to his side and looked up at the shattered sky. She spoke softly, “Fifty years ago, when Xie Yunce and I entered the forbidden grounds of Tianji Pavilion, he said that what he saw before the Star Greeting Altar was this exact scene.”

Xie Zhuoyu did not speak. After a long silence, he let out a murmur that sounded like a sob. “Yun Qi, I want to go home.”

Yun Qi froze, her eyes shimmering with emotion, unsure of how to respond.

Xie Zhuoyu turned his head silently, looking toward the southeast.

Xie Zhuoyu traveled by sword. The mountains stretched endlessly and green waters wound through the mist. He landed outside Yinshan City, finding himself on the scarred remains of his ancestral home.

The once prosperous Xie Estate was now nothing but broken walls and overgrown weeds. The pavilions, lush forests, and ponds of the past had vanished, swallowed by fire and buried by time. Only charred soil remained; its former elegance was gone.

The wind wailed through the halls, but the crisp, noisy chime of the copper bells that once hung under the eaves was gone forever. Xie Zhuoyu walked along the corridor toward the backyard, the withered wood crunching beneath his feet.

The deeper he went, the more he seemed to hear the familiar voices of the past: the annoying lectures of the clan elders, the gentle reminders of his elder brother, and the innocent laughter of children.

Everything felt like yesterday, yet everything was now worlds away.

He thrust the sword Xie Yunce had forged for him into the earth. In the long silence, the only sound was the wind.

Xie Zhuoyu leaned against a charred, withered tree, vaguely recalling his childhood. When he first began the path of the sword, Xie Yunce would bring him under this tree to practice. Messages from Xie Yunce’s friends arrived one after another. The most annoying were from Yun Qi and Zhou Zhongxing, who were always trying to call Xie Yunce away and calling Xie Zhuoyu a nuisance.

Xie Zhuoyu could not help but curl his lips into a smile.

He closed his eyes, wanting to dream a dream that spanned across the years.

In the dream, the scent of tea remained. Children played in the courtyard and copper bells jingled in the summer breeze. He would see his elder brother, Xie Yunce, bathed in the morning light, smiling as he handed over a pot of freshly brewed tea. Amidst the swirling steam, he could return to his carefree, spirited youth.

“Ayu, practice the second form of the Snow Return Sword again.” Xie Yunce propped up his head with one hand while the other casually toyed with a tea lid. A drop of tea flicked from his fingertip, hitting Xie Zhuoyu’s knee. “Steady your lower body. Do not be impatient.”

Xie Zhuoyu swung his sword and turned around, looking at the water mark on his leg with dissatisfaction. He curled his lip. “Just talk if you have something to say. Why do you have to throw things? If Yun Qi sees this, she will mock me again.”

Sunlight fell on his youthful face, making his eyes appear clear and bright. Even his grumbling complaints seemed incredibly innocent.

Just then, a soft voice called out from the corridor, “Ayu, are you slacking off on your sword practice again?”

Xie Zhuoyu jumped at the sound. He saw a dignified woman in plain clothes holding a basket of freshly picked plums, standing under the eaves and looking at him with a smile.

“Mother! I am not slacking!” Xie Zhuoyu defended himself loudly before muttering, “It is Xie Yunce. He keeps splashing tea on me.”

“Nonsense.” Xie Yunce shook his head and stood up, placing the tea bowl back on the table. “You were distracted yourself. Do not blame me.”

The woman smiled and looked toward the shadows under the eaves.

“Xie Yanchuan, your son is blaming his brother for bullying him again.”

Xie Zhuoyu fell silent instantly. He followed his mother’s gaze and saw a man holding an old sword manual walking slowly from the corridor. He carried an air of natural authority, yet a trace of hidden warmth lingered within him.

Xie Yanchuan spoke, his voice as steady as a bell. “With your mediocre skills, you will be beaten down during the Academy entrance trials next year. Do you wish to ruin my reputation? Practice twice more, or I will not leave a single bite of the osmanthus sticky rice cakes your mother made for lunch.”

“I do not care!” Xie Zhuoyu turned away, indignantly performing two sword moves. But halfway through, he could not help but sneak a glance at his mother. “Are there really osmanthus sticky rice cakes?”

“Of course,” the woman said, laughing behind her hand. “But if you do not practice well, do not expect your father and me to let you at the table.”

“Then he will likely have to wait until next month to eat,” Xie Yunce added with a grin.

Back then, the world was vast and free. Xie Zhuoyu did not have to face the wind, rain, or bloodied blades because the Xie family and his brother shielded him from it all.

But the light and shadows suddenly twisted. The courtyard collapsed in flames and everything turned to ash in an instant. His mother’s figure vanished into the fire, his father’s back disappeared into the billowing smoke, and even the familiar sound of the bells became distant and illusory.

“Ayu, do not be afraid.” It sounded like Xie Yunce’s whisper coming from the void, but it was impossible to grasp.

Xie Zhuoyu snapped his eyes open and found himself still lying under the withered tree. The setting sun was as red as blood, and the ruined Xie estate swayed in the breeze. He pressed a hand to his forehead, his eyes red. Looking at the tangled, dead branches above, he could not distinguish between the dream and reality for a moment.

“Ayu.” A low call came from nearby. He whipped his head around and saw Xie Yunce sitting in the exact same spot as in the dream, tilting his head and smiling at him. “You slept for so long. If you had stayed asleep any longer, I would have lost my patience waiting.”

Xie Zhuoyu opened his mouth, but his throat was too dry to speak.

He stared blankly, stammering for a long time before asking in a raspy voice, “Xie Yunce, how are you still alive?”

He scrambled up from the ground, tentatively trying to touch his brother’s hand, but he felt nothing but a hollow illusion.

Xie Yunce lowered his eyes to look at the fingertips passing through his body. He said gently, “I am already dead, Ayu. What you see is only a fragment of the soul I left behind.”

Xie Zhuoyu’s hand stopped in mid-air. Complex emotions swirled in his eyes: unwillingness, regret, and a painful sense of release. He lowered his hand and sat back on the ground dejectedly. “If that is the case, why did you let me see you again? You knew I would be unable to let go.”

Xie Yunce looked at him quietly but did not respond to the accusation, which sounded almost like a spoiled child’s complaint.

“Fifty years ago, Yun Qi and I entered the forbidden grounds of Tianji Pavilion to find a way to repair the Great Array of Zhongzhou. Before the Star Greeting Altar, I calculated countless possibilities. The best outcome was the fire at the Xie estate, me sacrificing myself for the Calamity Binding Array, and you ending everything fifty years later.” Xie Yunce spoke slowly. “I accepted my future, but I did not want you to carry such a fate. But I remembered what Yun Qi told me before I left: if one day you learn your destiny, do not worry and do not fear.”

“So, I also want to tell you: if you can return here one day, do not grieve and do not hate.”

Xie Zhuoyu clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. “But I do not know where to go anymore, Xie Yunce. Everything I wanted to do is finished. My sword no longer knows why it is drawn.”

“For yourself,” Xie Yunce’s voice was as light as a breeze. “Ayu, you once asked our father and me what our ‘Dao’ was. We never answered because I did not know it myself. But at the moment death arrived, I seemed to understand. My Dao lies in a clear heart.”

He reached out and tapped Xie Zhuoyu’s chest. “Protecting the family, guarding people, ending feuds, and slaying evil; these are all parts of the Dao, but they are not the whole of it.”

Xie Zhuoyu stared blankly at his brother. For a moment, it felt as if he had returned to his youth. His small frame stood before Xie Yunce, looking up as his brother held a long sword and spoke calmly yet firmly.

“Move with your heart; act with your will.”

“Where your heart points is where your sword strikes.”

The voices in his memory overlapped. Xie Zhuoyu’s chest tightened, leaving him unable to speak.

Xie Yunce stood up and walked slowly to him. He reached out as if to pat his head like he did when they were young, but his hand merely passed through like a gust of wind. He withdrew his hand with a hint of sadness, but his tone remained as gentle as ever. “Ayu, I am very happy to see you today.”

“Our Ayu has grown into a man who can stand tall. Wait, how did you become a demonic cultivator?”

“Actually, being a demonic cultivator is not so bad. You can follow your whims and be free. No one can control you now.”

Xie Yunce turned around, his figure gradually dissolving into the wind, leaving behind only a faint whisper.

“Do not be afraid. Walk forward.”

Xie Zhuoyu stood in place, speechless for a long time. He gripped the sword planted in the ground until the residual soul completely vanished. Only then did he slowly kneel, resting his forehead against the sword, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

The wind whistled through the broken tiles. The ruined courtyard of the Xie estate was as silent as a lonely grave. Xie Zhuoyu did not know how long he knelt there. It was only when the red sunset was swallowed by the night that he finally stood up and pulled the sword from the earth.

The blade was still sharp and cold, seemingly untainted by the slaughter, just as it was when Xie Yunce had personally handed it to him.

He sheathed the sword on his back and walked slowly out of the Xie estate gates. The night wind blew against his blood-stained robes, but he did not feel cold.

In the distance, the lights of Yinshan City began to flicker. He suddenly remembered a late night long ago when he and Yunce had snuck down the mountain. They had bought several pieces of osmanthus cake from a stall in the city and listened to music all night on a boat with a bit of wine.

Xie Zhuoyu took a deep breath and walked toward the bustling Yinshan City. Amidst the dim lights, Yun Qi stood casually in front of a fortune telling stall, wearing foreign robes and holding out her hand.

Hearing his approaching footsteps, she glanced sideways and said to the fortune teller with a smile, “The person I am waiting for has arrived. Quick, tell me, will he travel the world with me?”

Xie Zhuoyu pulled a silver ingot from his robe and tossed it into the old man’s lap.

“He is not a mind reader. If you want to know, why not just ask me?”

Scene 1,066 of Blue Bird finished filming. Lin Zhiyu’s work was officially over.

Lin Zhiyu yawned, a few tears pricking his eyes. The bright lights of the set made his head spin. As soon as Zhao Jinyu shouted “Cut,” he immediately stepped out of character and ran toward the rest area.

Before Chen Chen could even hand him the water, Lin Zhiyu snatched it mid-way.

He took a large gulp, finally feeling like he had returned to reality.

The crew members began packing up the equipment. Zhao Jinyu took the bouquet prepared by the staff and walked over to him with a smile. “Congratulations on finishing your scenes.”

Lin Zhiyu hugged the flowers, unable to hide his excitement. “I can finally get off work!”

He planned to go back and sleep for three days and three nights.

However, before he could run to the dressing room to strip off the complicated costume, he turned around and saw Jiang Yubai staring at him with bloodshot eyes.

Seeing Lin Zhiyu’s gaze on him, Jiang Yubai opened his mouth as if to say something but did not know where to start. He looked aggrieved and restrained, seemingly still caught in the emotions of Xie Zhuoyu.

Lin Zhiyu realized he had not yet recovered from the scene.

Since they had both experienced this once, it was not embarrassing.

Lin Zhiyu spread his arms wide and said generously, “Your brother is getting off work. If you are that reluctant to see me go, do you want me to give you a hug?”