Bubble

Yunxiu had just rounded the third carved pillar of the altar when the wind from the rear hall, carrying the scent of incense ash, blew against her face. The bronze bells on the eaves swayed gently in the breeze, but the tinkling sound offered no soothing effect. Instead, it felt like a fine needle, gently pricking her eardrums.

Yunxiu gently closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she lowered her head and brushed off the dust on her clothes.

She knew someone was coming.

The images of those "pilgrims" in the front hall are still flashing in my mind. Some of them are standing on the cushions and repeating the movements of bowing, their knees not even making a dent in the cushions; some are standing at the door of the hall holding incense and candles, their eyes as empty as if covered by a layer of fog, and they won't even raise their hands to straighten their robes when the wind blows.

She had already seen the flaws in these illusions, but what surged in her heart at this moment was not the clarity of seeing through the illusions, but a sudden, sharp, dull pain.

The pain was very similar to the early morning by the cold pond in Yaoxi Mountain last year - at that time, she went astray in her practice of the Concentration Technique, and her spiritual power flowed backwards and got stuck in her heart. Yan Xiu squatted beside her, placing his fingertips on her chest to help her clear the pain. At that time, it was such a dense and dull pain, wrapped in the unique cool fluctuations of the spiritual veins, hitting her heart again and again.

Just like that day, she woke up in the morning rain and felt a strange heartache in the familiar mountains.

A strange master, a strange pain.

But now, there was no moisture from the cold pond around her, only the damp, musty smell of the back hall, mixed with incense ash. Yet, the pain came for no apparent reason. Yunxiu subconsciously pressed her chest, her fingertips touching the warm hem of her clothes, her fingertips tracing the dried sycamore leaf sewn into the lining—it was picked for her by Wu Yi last autumn, said to soothe the mind. Now, the veins on the leaf seemed to tremble with her heartbeat.

She closed her eyes and tried to calm down and sense her surroundings, just like she did in Yaoxi Mountain.

At this moment, there was only a chaotic emotion, like an undercurrent wrapped in thick fog, floating in her perception.

Wrapped in anxiety, mixed with tension, and probably panic seeping from the bones.

"that's all……"

The fragmented syllables seemed to float over through a thick layer of water, so vague that they could not be grasped. One could only make out a hoarse voice, the ending of which was taut, like a bowstring stretched to the extreme.

Yunxiu opened his eyes and walked deeper into the hall. The back hall was much darker than the front hall. There were only three remaining lamps hanging on the pillars. Lamp oil dripped down the wicks, forming small oil spots on the ground. The shadows of the lamps made people dizzy.

The curtain behind the altar hung low, its embroidered cloud patterns long faded to a pale gray, its edges frayed in several places, revealing the cotton wool beneath. Wind seeped in through a crack in the curtain, lifting a corner. She could vaguely see two figures within. One stood tall, but her shoulders slumped slightly. The other crouched beside it, moving delicately, as if fiddling with something. Each movement caused the tall figure to tremble slightly.

The pain in Yunxiu's heart became even more intense, and a slightly hurried tone appeared in the chaotic emotions.

"No matter what..."

Yunxiu stopped three steps in front of the curtain, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of the sword at his waist.

The small flower on the scabbard was carved crookedly when she was fifteen, while Yan Xiu was taking a nap after teaching her sword skills. When he woke up, he didn't say anything, but just wiped the scabbard again and again with a cloth, even the edges of the carving were smooth.

"Brother, come out."

She looked up at the tassels drooping from the top of the curtain, her voice filled with a certainty she hadn't even noticed. As soon as she said this, the movement behind the curtain stopped instantly—even the subtle sound of movement was gone, leaving only the "tick-tick" of lamp oil dripping onto the ground, so slow it made her feel uneasy.

Yunxiu frowned and took another step forward. This time, she didn't rush to speak, but calmed down and carefully grasped the fragments of her emotions.

That hoarse voice came out again, this time a little clearer, and one could tell it was worried: "Blood..."

Blood? Yunxiu twitched her nose and, sure enough, she could smell a faint, rusty scent of blood, mixed with the ash and musty smell. It was barely noticeable unless you sniffed carefully. Her heart tightened, and just as she was about to speak again, the hurried voice rang out again: "Can't stop... Restriction..."

"Don't hide." Yunxiu's voice softened. "I know it's you."

There was still no movement inside the tent, but she could sense the panic within the group had intensified, like two frightened little animals, circling around inside. Yunxiu took a deep breath, took two steps forward, and raised her hand to lift a corner of the curtain.

The scene before her made her breathing pause for a moment, and the dull pain in her heart suddenly surged up, several times more intense than before.

Yan Xiu leaned against the cold wall, his dark-black suit stained from his left shoulder to his waist with dark red blood, and blood was still dripping from his sleeves. The drops landed on the blue bricks, leaving a small dark mark.

The newly changed bandage was soaked with blood, like a wet red cloth, tightly wrapped around the left shoulder. A bit of flesh was exposed at the edge of the bandage, which was eye-watering.

His face was as white as paper, and his lips were bloodless. His knuckles were white from the force he exerted, and even his fingertips were trembling slightly, but his eyes were still clear, staring at her intently.

Yunxiu stretched out his hand, his fingertips pausing three inches from Yanxiu's shoulder. He clearly wanted to touch her, but in the end, he didn't. His knuckles were clenched white.

"How could he be injured like this..."

Yan Xiu and Wu Yi remained silent. Yun Xiu looked at their expressions and said:

"Is it because... you came down the mountain to look for me?"

"No, it's because of that person." Wu Yi turned his eyes away, "Despicable... taking advantage of me being alone with you to attack Brother..."

Yan Xiu leaned against the wall, took a deep breath, and the wound on his left shoulder moved while he spoke. His brows wrinkled slightly, but the trembling in his fingertips subsided quietly.

"That person has already left. They thought we would take you and flee towards Yaoxi Mountain and wouldn't come back for a while."

He raised his eyes to look at Yunxiu: "We didn't want you to find out. But we didn't have the strength. Fortunately, the illusion created by that person has been broken."

The intense dull pain in Yunxiu's chest almost made her breathless. She didn't even have time to think.

"I will send you back to Yaoxi Mountain now."

As Yunxiu spoke, he was about to hold Yanxiu's arm, but he gently pushed her away.

Yan Xiu shook his head, his voice steadier than before: "No rush."

"The tournament starts in three days."

Yan Xiu's gaze swept across the blood-stained jade pendant on the altar, and then fell back on Yun Xiu.

"That person has been checking the list of participants. You might not be the only one he's looking for. He might even take action at the tournament."

He paused, coughed, and his chest heaved.

"If we return to the mountain now and encounter an ambush by the Black-robed men on the way, we might not be able to handle it with our current strength. Moreover..."

He looked into Yunxiu's eyes and said, "People from various sects are at the conference. Maybe we can find some clues."

Perhaps it was because Yunxiu hadn't spoken for too long, or perhaps it was because the gloom in her eyes was too heavy, Yan Xiu's voice actually softened.

He reached out and tucked the strands of hair that had fallen on Yunxiu's cheek behind her ear. When his fingertips touched her skin, it was still slightly chilled by the loss of blood.

"They look serious, but they're just flesh wounds. I've checked them out."

Yunxiu didn't argue anymore, but just gripped the cloth bag tighter, until his knuckles turned white.

She held Yan Xiu's arm, deliberately avoided his bleeding left shoulder, and walked very slowly.

After leaving the temple, the night wind became even colder, carrying the scent of wild grass by the roadside and mixed with the faint smell of blood on their bodies, drifting away into the distance.

The streets were deserted, desolate and gray, as if no one had walked on them in years.

Yunxiu glanced at him indifferently, but said nothing, and continued walking forward while supporting the person.

"Hold on a little longer, we're almost there. I remember there's an inn at the foot of the mountain."

She turned around and whispered to Yan Xiu. Yan Xiu said "hmm", and the two of them said nothing more.

Arriving at the inn, Yunxiu helped Yan Xiu sit down on the stone pier at the foot of the steps, then quickly went in to ask the innkeeper for a room. The innkeeper was a man in his fifties, wearing a pair of reading glasses. He glanced at the two people outside and, without asking any questions, simply pointed to the three innermost rooms on the second floor.

"That room is quiet. You guys go up there. I'll have the waiter bring the hot water over later."

Yunxiu thanked the shopkeeper and ran out to help Yanxiu up the stairs. The stairs creaked as they stepped on them.

The room was not big, with only a square table, two chairs and a double bed. There was an old wardrobe in the corner and a new candle in the candlestick on the table. When it was lit, the warm yellow light instantly filled the room, dispelling some of the coolness.

Yunxiu first helped Yan Xiu sit on the chair, then quickly poured the medicine and clean cloth in the cloth bag onto the table, turned around and went to the door to wait for the waiter to bring hot water.

The bandages were cut open layer by layer, revealing the wound inside - not too deep, but very long, extending from the left shoulder to below the collarbone, with some dried blood scabs on the edge, and a small amount of blood still seeping out at this moment, which made Yunxiu's heart tighten.

After everything was settled, Yunxiu breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his room, sitting at the table.

She saw that the lights on both sides were off and knew that her two senior brothers had gone to bed.

In front of her, the candlelight flickered and reflected on the wall, just like the shadows of the few remaining lamps in the back hall of the temple.

It was that person... the unknown black-robed figure who created this illusion. Why?

According to Yan Xiu and Wu Yi, as soon as they discovered Yun Xiu coming down the mountain, they chased her. On their way to find her, they encountered the black-robed figure and the illusion he created for her...

A fantasy? Was it that mortal market? That completely harmless and innocuous... mortal fireworks?

There is also that vague feeling of anxiety that follows me like a shadow and lingers.

Whenever Yunxiu approached Yan Xiu and Wu Yi, she would feel this sensation, sometimes strong, sometimes weak, but always present, almost a characteristic that she could use to identify Yao Xi Shanren.

When the candle burned to the latter half, the flame core began to tremble, and the shadow cast on the wall flickered.

Yunxiu sat at the table, her fingertips still stained with the smell of ointment she had used when treating Yan Xiu's wound, but her mind was full of doubts about the illusion - the fireworks in the human market were too real, so real that she almost forgot it was fake. The man in black took great pains to set up such an illusion, was it to trap her, or to lure someone here?

The night outside the window was eerily quiet, without even the chirping of insects. Only the wind blew dead leaves across the window lattice, making a slight rustling sound.

Yunxiu was just about to blow out the candle and lie down for a while when he heard two soft knocks on the windowsill.

The sound was very soft, but it was particularly harsh in the dead of night, like an icicle hitting the bone.

Yunxiu's hand suddenly stopped and his heart skipped a beat.

"Xiao You..."

A voice came through the crack in the window; it was Wu Yi's. However, at this moment, the voice was like cotton thread soaked in water, muffled and soft.

Yunxiu gripped the hilt of the sword at her waist, her fingertips cold. She slowly walked to the window, not daring to open it immediately. She only asked through the wooden lattice:

"Why are you here so late?"

Yunxiu hesitated for a moment, then reached out and pulled the latch. As soon as the window was opened a crack, a gust of cold wind rushed in, carrying with it a faint, familiar scent of blood.

Wu Yi was standing under the window, his eyes wide open but lifeless, like two pools of stagnant water, staring at Yunxiu.

"Wu Yi, what's wrong with you?"

Yunxiu reached out to pull him, but he dodged her violently. When his hand touched her fingertips, it was as cold as ice, without any trace of the warmth of a living person.

Wu Yi lowered his voice and stared straight ahead:

"Xiao You, Senior Brother... may be dead."

Yunxiu remained silent. After looking at him for a moment, he asked, "Wu Yi, where's your sword?"

"Unlike me. You can't fly without your sword."

"How did you end up outside the second-floor window?"