Chapter 42 A Broken Mirror, Parting
Xi Bingyi found it somewhat absurd.
Seeing someone off at their deathbed? What does that mean? How did it come to the point of seeing someone off at their deathbed?
Zhou Ziheng only lost his five senses for a moment, so why is he being sent to his death?
Even though he was in Liyang Valley, in Zhang's household, and in Tanglin, he still...
Xi Bingyi belatedly realized that Zhou Ziheng hadn't shown any signs of winning a championship in a long time.
It seems to have started with that accident at sea.
She bit her lip anxiously.
Why did so many things happen that she couldn't understand during what was just a happy and simple trip through the martial arts world?
The curse deepens, Aunt Yu betrays, Uncle Three sets a trap... what is the reason?
What else do they not know about the curse of winning the laurel wreath?
Xi Bingyi frowned, sighed deeply, and opened the book "Plant Cultivation and Maintenance" again.
"Ning Hanshuang's blood had little effect, and I thought it was a dead end. By chance, Xi Ling obtained an ancient book, and he told me that the curse of Zhegui could be cured."
Zhegui is ultimately an osmanthus tree. Why it attaches itself to a person is unknown. Sometimes I wonder if ripening or withering a plant is useful for Zhegui.
..."
Before she could finish reading, another homing pigeon from the sacred mountain fluttered its wings and landed on Xi Bingyi's shoulder.
Xi Bingyi unfolded the letter, her eyes widening. Suddenly, she felt dizzy and disoriented, yet also overjoyed to find a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
"If your senior brother has experienced both great joy and sorrow along the way, he has now reached a dead end."
Many years ago, Huo Yunfeng stabbed your mother because of the curse of winning the laurel wreath, and your father turned against Huo Yunfeng. Bingyi, I've been keeping this from you because of this entanglement.
I don't know who is orchestrating all of this, and I know very little about the Curse of the Laurel Blossom. All I know is that it is both a curse and an opportunity. It is constantly eroding Zhou Ziheng's soul, but it has also given him unparalleled talent in swordsmanship.
Of course, there have been rumors circulating in the martial arts world in recent years that the Curse of the Laurel Blossom possesses the powerful ability to change the world, but these are nothing but baseless rumors and nonsense...
Bingyi, your senior brother is at his wit's end.
Xi Bingyi gripped the letter tightly, her mind reeling from the intense emotions she felt, and she even felt a little dazed.
On one hand, she felt she had discovered it too late, but on the other hand, she comforted herself that it wasn't too late. As long as she finished reading the book, as long as she could find that ancient book from her father, she would definitely, definitely...
...
On the other side, Zhou Ziheng was burning with rage. The laurel wreath on his forearm had penetrated deep into his bones, almost draining his blood.
Xie Fenglian slowly unfolded her folding fan. Under the moonlight, the blood on the fan surface resembled a delicate red plum blossom.
“Over the years, Lin Youbie has been hiding in the Holy Mountain, guarding the dying Xie Yun, which has truly tarnished the Holy Mountain’s reputation.” Xie Fenglian gently stroked the fan ribs and said calmly, “Once I go up the Holy Mountain and kill her, others will know who the true master of the Holy Mountain is.”
Before he could finish speaking, Zhou Ziheng, his eyes bloodshot, drew his sword and slashed at him.
The crimson dust of the mortal world was like a sharp bolt of lightning, coming with the force to tear Xie Fenglian apart.
Xie Fenglian sneered, without moving a step, she raised her fan and bent down, using softness to overcome hardness. A sharp dagger sprang from the fan, aimed straight for Zhou Ziheng's throat!
Zhou Ziheng knew his uncle quite well and had anticipated his underhanded trick, so he slightly turned his head to dodge it.
The next moment, his footwork changed, he twisted his waist to sheathe his sword, and changed from slashing to hacking, his target being Xie Fenglian's head.
"You covet the position of Lord of the Holy Mountain, severely injuring my master's wife while she was healing, and stealing the Holy Mountain's treasure while my master was preoccupied. You want to become the Lord of the Holy Mountain? Wishful thinking!"
"Haha! Your sickly, wretched master's wife should have died long ago! All these years, Lin Youbie has been looking out for her, feeding her countless rare and precious herbs, and she's still in that same wretched state! Even if I hadn't seriously injured her, she wouldn't have lived much longer anyway!"
"Despicable and shameless!"
The two fought fiercely in the air, neither able to gain the upper hand for the time being.
Beneath the bamboo grove, Yao Guang appeared beside Huo Qin without anyone noticing.
She looked down at the seriously injured and unconscious Huo Qin, pinched his chin and turned it around, her gaze lingering on his brow.
Yao Guang clicked her tongue: "What a pity, you really can't die now."
She fed Huo Qin a pill, ignoring the footsteps behind her.
Yu Xijun came up behind Yao Guang and curled her lips impatiently: "This is unnecessary. Why bother saving him?"
Yao Guang didn't turn around, still intently watching Huo Qin, and said cryptically, "The death of a friend is nothing but great sorrow. But if he were to return from the dead, it would be both great sorrow and great joy..."
Yu Xijun drawled, "Oh—"
"No wonder you're 'his' right-hand man. When it comes to ruthlessness, how can anyone compare to you?"
After speaking, Yu Xijun looked up at Zhou Ziheng, who was nimbly maneuvering atop the bamboo forest, and murmured:
“Grief, anger, pain, sorrow, joy… I’m afraid the small boat…”
Only now did Yao Guang finally make a move.
She looked up as well, but could only see a crimson mass, unsure whether it was blood, a sword, or an eye.
The two sighed softly, abandoned Huo Qin, ignored the fight between Xie Fenglian and Zhou Ziheng, and turned to leave.
In mid-air, Zhou Ziheng's mental state was truly worrying, and he had already developed numerous injuries, large and small, on his body.
Xie Fenglian's ability to conceal a knife within her fan is truly annoying; you never know when she'll stab you, her unpredictable movements are incredibly frustrating.
Zhou Ziheng was already somewhat dazed. The pain from breaking the laurel branch made it so painful that he could barely lift his forearm. Xie Fenglian was still toying with him like a cat playing with a mouse. Exhausted and angry, Zhou Ziheng bit his tongue, turned the mortal world around, and was forced to use "Sorrowful Spring".
He had never used this tactic lightly before.
If one were not filled with sorrow and pain, how could one truly understand the sorrow of the world?
If one does not have hope and yearn for the future, how can one understand the spring of the mortal world?
Zhou Ziheng no longer cared about the new injuries or broken bones he had sustained. His eyes grew brighter with each battle, and his speed increased. Xie Fenglian gradually felt the strain and was shocked that Zhou Ziheng was so reckless.
He's here today to enjoy his junior apprentice's suffering, not to die!
Jie Fenglian gritted his teeth, about to retreat hastily, but Hongchen seemed to have anticipated his retreat and blocked his way, opening his blood-red maw!
"Trying to leave?" Zhou Ziheng said hatefully, "You might as well die here!!"
Behind the relentless, unstoppable sword intent of Hongchen lies Zhou Ziheng's desperate, all-or-nothing gaze.
Xie Fenglian was also provoked and became even more furious. He looked down and, sure enough, did not see Yao Guang's figure.
"You want to kill me?" Xie Fenglian closed her fan, using only the fan ribs to withstand the mortal sword intent. At the same time, she retreated rapidly, repeatedly dissipating the force, her arm veins bulging and her tiger's mouth tearing.
Finally, Hongchen severed one of Xie Fenglian's hands, and blood gushed out. Xie Fenglian was in so much pain that her face turned pale, and she couldn't help but scream.
He made a quick decision, sacrificing one hand to save his life, and managed to escape swiftly when the mortal force subsided!
"I'll remember this grudge!!"
Zhou Ziheng did not pursue the matter further, as he himself was already at his limit.
My arm trembled with pain, my mind was a chaotic mess from the heat, and the osmanthus seemed to come alive, drilling straight into my heart.
Under the blood-red moonlight, Zhou Ziheng could not hold onto the mortal world; his sword and he fell together, like a bird with broken wings.
The mortal dust is inserted into the earth, just as it was in the sword tomb, quietly stuck in the stone, waiting to be pulled out.
At this moment, he had even lost the strength to hold it.
His whole body felt as if it had been thrown into a furnace and was being roasted. His hearing was intermittent. During the long period of suffering, the sound that Zhou Ziheng heard most often was a loud and piercing buzzing.
He lay curled up on the ground, breathing weakly, like a rare piece of porcelain that had been shattered and then barely pieced back together—stunningly beautiful, yet also heartbreakingly tragic.
The seeds they had swallowed earlier revealed their fangs, forcibly enhancing their martial arts abilities and instantly catalyzing the growth of the laurel tree.
In a daze, Zhou Ziheng even felt as if the seed was growing in his soul, turning into cold vines that tightly bound and entangled him, trying to strangle him to death.
So tired.
Zhou Ziheng's eyes dimmed, staring blankly in the direction where Huo Qin had fallen.
I'm so tired.
At that moment, his hearing became unusually acute; he could clearly "hear"—
In that deep, utterly silent place, the sound of something growing wildly within was subtle and greedy, like snow breaking a withered branch, irreversible.
Zhou Ziheng slowly closed his eyes.
...
"Master, where is Junior Sister?" Little Zhou Ziheng, dressed in bright red new clothes, hugged Lin Youbie's leg and asked innocently.
Xie Yun followed behind him, completely exasperated by this devilish brat.
"Xiao Zhou! It's cold, put your clothes on first!" Xie Yun sighed and gave Lin Youbie a helpless look.
Lin Youbie gave Zhou Ziheng a hard knock on the head and said sternly, "Don't you dare make your master's wife angry."
Zhou Ziheng began to wail loudly, making a disturbing noise: "Master is biased! Master is biased!!"
Lin Youbie sneered and covered his mouth with her hand: "I am biased, so what?"
"Shut your mouth! I don't want to beat you up on such a festive day as the New Year!"
Zhou Ziheng pouted and became honest: "Okay, but Master, you still haven't told me where Junior Sister went."
Lin Youbie took the clothes from Xie Yun's hands and dutifully dressed the troublemaker Zhou Ziheng, saying helplessly, "Your junior sister is going home for the New Year."
Zhou Ziheng said "oh" and didn't say anything more.
He knew he was an orphan whose parents were unknown, but he was not discouraged or distressed because of it. After all, Xie Yunlin was like a parent to him, giving him meticulous care.
At this moment, Zhou Ziheng asked another question: "Is Xi Bingyi's father surnamed Xi?"
Lin Youbie sighed, knowing that the little devil was about to ask another strange question.
Xie Yun looked at the two clowns and suppressed a laugh: "Of course, her father's name is Xi Ling."
Zhou Ziheng asked again, "Why does her father have the surname Xi? Couldn't he have changed it?"
Lin Youbie was so angry that he fainted and fled with his hands behind his back.
Xie Yun patiently explained, "Xi Ling came first, and then Junior Sister Xi Bingyi came into being."
"Okay." Zhou Ziheng reluctantly accepted this answer. "Then can I go visit my junior sister? I want to wish her a Happy New Year."
However, as soon as he finished speaking, Xie Yun, who had been smiling gently, instantly stopped smiling and refused very firmly and decisively.
"No, Ji Pingzhou, you're not allowed to go to Xibao without my and Lin Youbie's permission!"
...
Beneath the dome, in the desolate bamboo forest, the moonlight was shrouded by dark clouds and soon became completely dim.
First, one or two drops, then slowly forming a line, and soon they fell heavily again.
The torrential rain returned, sounding like a mournful cry.
Winter night, rainy night, so cold it could freeze you to the bone.
Huo Qin was delirious with fever, but the heavy rain woke him up.
He struggled to lift his eyelids and first saw the bamboo tube containing the "culprit." The blood had been washed away by the heavy rain, revealing the truth they had been longing for.
However, Huo Qin didn't care about that anymore.
Not far away, Zhou Ziheng's face was ashen, his body covered in a mixture of dirt and blood. Further away, the world seemed dim and lifeless.
Almost instinctively, Huo Qin crawled toward Zhou Ziheng, touching his cold cheeks with his feverish body and cradling his stiff head with his trembling hands.
His consciousness was already somewhat blurred, tears mingled with the rain as they streamed down his face, and the pain in his chest made it impossible for him to pinpoint exactly where the pain was coming from.
In the silent sorrow, Uncle Mei, who had appeared behind them at some unknown time, picked up the bamboo tube with a look of pity on his face.
On his palm, one could barely make out the character "席" (xi) on the bamboo tube.
Xiao Zhou, die! Die tonight, just like Huo Yunfeng!
Uncle Mei thought to himself calmly.
...
On the other side, inside the dungeon, Ning Hanshuang held Huo Yunfeng, whose body was already covered in branches. She tremblingly raised her scarred hand, trying to use her blood to awaken a sliver of Huo Yunfeng's sanity, but she could no longer wait for him to open his mouth.
The flower on her forehead faded like a wisp of smoke about to dissipate.
In his arms, Huo Yunfeng's chest was calm; he had stopped breathing completely.
Ning Hanshuang closed her eyes and a tear fell.
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