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At the end of winter in the year of Guihai, a strange guest arrived at the small restaurant next to the Samsara Bridge.
He was wearing a black shirt with golden cloud patterns, a golden crown on his head, and holding a small golden fan. He suddenly appeared in the wilderness with his attendants.
It was snowing heavily that day, and the snow was over knee-deep. He looked very weak, pale, and his hands and feet were trembling, but he still insisted on trudging through the snow and moving forward against the wind and snow.
After they walked for a while, the young man in black seemed exhausted and went into the restaurant.
After he walked through the curtain, he felt hot air pouring out of the restaurant. The young man looked a little better. He raised his eyes and saw that the hall was full of people sitting around a stage. On the stage was a storyteller, who was telling some folk stories in a vivid voice. It seemed that the people sitting below had already heard his stories. Some were drinking, some were chatting, and they didn't even pay the storyteller a glance.
The two men were dressed in luxurious clothes and were extremely handsome, but after entering the room, they were very quiet and no one even noticed that they had entered.
They walked through the crowd and sat at the innermost table. The waiter poured tea for the young man and went to get spiritual food. The young man sat aside, seeming a little sleepy. He leaned his head against the wall and gently closed his eyes to rest.
"The spiritual energy in Yunze is becoming increasingly scarce, and demonic cultivation is prevalent. It is said that the spiritual energy is now maintained by Huayang Jun. I wonder how many days Huayang Jun can hold on?"
Some in the crowd were discussing current events, their voices tinged with worry. Meanwhile, the storyteller on the stage was recounting the glorious past of Yunze: "Back then, Yunze Fairyland was lush with vegetation, overflowing with spiritual energy, and home to countless immortal cultivators. Countless mortals journeyed across mountains and rivers to reach Yunze..."
"Among them, there was a child named Qin Yan. That year, there was a severe drought and natural disasters. He and his mother sailed across the ocean to Yunze to seek immortals..."
Hearing the name Qin Yan, the young man in black who was recuperating opened his eyes slightly.
The storyteller was telling the story of "Sui Yan Chuan" which had been told to death among the people.
The legendary Demon Lord Sui Yan is the culprit behind the suffering of the people of Yunze today.
He was originally the first disciple of Jiang Yebai, the master of Hongmeng Tiangong, and the most promising future successor of Hongmeng Tiangong. However, he killed his master and betrayed his sect, privately opened a prison, built the Wujiu Palace, and became a generation of demon king.
Xiandao and he fought a bloody battle for nearly twenty years. Finally, Huayang Jun Fu Changling led his men to attack the Wuqiu Palace, captured Qin Yan alive, and sent him to the trial platform, where he was cut into pieces.
This was a story that everyone in Yunze was familiar with. Even when the storyteller told it, no one wanted to listen. A young man sitting in the audience seemed to be annoyed by the storyteller's noise and finally said, "Sir, please stop talking about these trivial things and tell us something that no one has heard before."
This made the storyteller a little embarrassed. His face flushed and he was speechless. The boy laughed and said, "You don't have anything to say, do you?"
"Why is there nothing to say?!" The storyteller was a little annoyed and snorted coldly, "What do you know, kid? I know a lot."
"Then tell me about it." The audience started to make noises. The storyteller saw that more people were watching the fun, so his expression calmed down a little. He coughed lightly and said slowly, "Since everyone is interested, I will tell you a story I witnessed. Do you know that the Demon Lord Sui Yan committed suicide back then?"
Hearing this, everyone finally became interested. The servant came back with the spiritual food and turned around to look over when he heard this. Just as he was about to say something, the young man in black raised his hand, pressed the servant's sleeve with his cold palm, and looked at the old man sitting on the seat quietly.
"Back then, Lord Huayang fought a bloody battle all night in Wuqiu Palace, capturing Lord Suiyan alive and bringing him back to the Trial Platform for public trial. I was in the audience at the time, witnessing the trial with my own eyes."
"When the Demon Lord Sui Yan was brought up, his golden core was completely destroyed, his spiritual roots were severed, and his eyeballs had been gouged out. His legs were limp and he was dragged up. When he was dragged up, there was blood all over the floor. It was terrifying to look at."
The storyteller took a sip of tea and continued, "Then Huayang Jun walked up to him, intending to search his soul in public. But Huayang Jun tapped his forehead with his finger. Guess what happened?"
"What?"
"He exploded his sea of consciousness right there and then!"
Hearing this, everyone gasped.
For cultivators, there are three key locations that cannot be touched: the golden elixir, the spiritual roots, and the sea of consciousness. The golden elixir stores spiritual energy, the spiritual roots absorb it, and the sea of consciousness houses the soul. Any movement of any of these locations will cause unbearable pain, and the sea of consciousness is not only the most painful, but also the root of a person. Without the golden elixir and spiritual roots, one cannot become a cultivator, but without the sea of consciousness, the person is completely ruined.
"Is he hiding something shameful that he would rather detonate his own sea of consciousness than let anyone know?"
"What did Huayang Jun know in time?"
"With his sea of consciousness gone, isn't Demon Lord Sui Yan stupid?"
…
Questions came one after another from the crowd. The young man in black lowered his eyes, and his hand on the table trembled slightly.
The storyteller listened to the question and shook his head. "I don't know the answer to what you are asking. I guess Huayang Jun must have known something. Because at that time, Sui Yan Demon Lord fell to the ground, and Huayang Jun looked at him, looking shocked. He seemed to say something... I didn't hear it clearly, but I saw Sui Yan Demon Lord get up, put his hand into his heart, and then he took out something and put it in his hand. Then he squeezed it, and it disappeared. The thing fell apart, and Sui Yan Demon Lord fell down with a smile, and died on the spot. The so-called thousands of cuts he made later were just a formality, a show."
"So what did he pull out?"
Everyone was very curious, but the storyteller shook his head, indicating that he didn't know.
Everyone discussed for a moment, and then a young man's voice hesitantly rang out, "Did the Demon Lord Sui Yan practice the Way of Mercilessness in his early years in the Hongmeng Heavenly Palace?"
After saying this, everyone suddenly remembered something.
It is rumored that people who practice the Way of Ruthlessness will have a root of love. When they reach the last level of the Way of Ruthlessness, they will extinguish that root of love. From then on, they will be heartless and desireless, and will forget about emotions.
No one dared to speak, as if they had discovered some secret that they dared not let anyone know.
"I heard that in the early years, Huayang Jun and Sui Yan Mo Jun were both Yunze's geniuses. Sui Yan Mo Jun didn't attend the battle on the Junzi Terrace that year, so Huayang Jun specially invited him to fight on the Samsara Bridge."
"Has the Demon Lord Sui Yan arrived?"
No one should know this, everyone thought.
"He's here."
Just when everyone thought no one could answer, the shopkeeper, who had been calculating at the counter, suddenly laughed and pointed to a long bridge in the distance outside the window. "It happened to be raining those days, and he was there, holding an umbrella. He waited for seven days, but Huayang Jun didn't show up. He didn't leave until someone from Hongmeng Heavenly Palace arrived. Oh, he even left his umbrella with me before he left."
The shopkeeper sighed as he spoke, lowered his head to fiddle with his abacus, and whispered, "He was a pretty good person in his early years. How could he have been so careless and done so many stupid things?"
These words were met with regret, ridicule, and the restaurant erupted in a clamor. The attendant was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized something and looked at the young man in black: "Sir, you..."
The young man in black didn't say anything. He raised his slender fingers and placed them on his lips. With his usual gentle and romantic smile, he suppressed the pleading in his eyes and made a soft "hush" sound.
The attendant was speechless. The young man weakly picked up the wine glass beside him and poured himself a glass of warm wine. After taking the last sip, he seemed to muster up the courage to stand up and slowly walk to the shopkeeper. He raised his thin and pale face, and his pair of naturally romantic peach blossom eyes were filled with fatigue and tenderness. He looked at the shopkeeper with a smile, spread out his white palm, and said politely and calmly, "Excuse me, umbrella."
The shopkeeper stared at the young man in a daze. He didn't react, but the cabinet behind him suddenly opened. A sixty-four-section purple bamboo oil-paper umbrella with a painting of spreading reeds flew out from among the many umbrellas and landed steadily in the young man's hands.
The young man lowered his brows and glanced at the old marks on the umbrella that could not be erased after the ghost rain. After pausing for a moment, he turned around with the umbrella, walked to the door under the attention of everyone, and raised his hand to open the paper umbrella.
At that time, it was snowing lightly outside the house. The young man was walking on the snow with an umbrella, his wide sleeves fluttering in the wind, and the reeds on the umbrella were swaying.
He walked towards the Samsara Bridge, and someone behind him exclaimed: "Isn't that Huayang Jun?!"
"What is he doing here?"
What are you doing here?
Huayang Zhenjun Fu Changling held up a paper umbrella and looked at the long bridge in the distance that was stained with frost and snow.
He seemed to see Qin Yan wearing white clothes and a jade crown, with a long sword hanging from his waist and a sixty-four-jointed purple bamboo umbrella in his hand, quietly waiting for him.
In fact, he didn't have much time to really talk with Qin Yan in his life. Every time they met, it was a life-and-death situation, until the last time, he died in front of him.
When a person dies, all past resentments slowly fade away. Time polishes that person's image day by day, eventually turning it into cinnabar in the heart and white moon in the eyes. Extreme and intense, it left a shallow but long wound in his heart.
He himself didn't know why he came here at this time.
However, when he clearly pictured Qin Yan waiting on the bridge, he suddenly understood the significance of his journey of thousands of miles when he learned that his time was up.
He came here to fulfill this unfinished life-and-death appointment.
In December of the Guichou year, Qin Yan, the Suiyan Demon King who had caused a bloody storm in the Yunze Immortal Realm, was cut into pieces on the Judgment Platform. Everyone thought that after Qin Yan's death, Yunze would return to its former prosperity. However, they did not expect that even after Qin Yan's death, the demon cultivation was not completely eliminated.
The first year after Qin Yan's death was relatively peaceful.
Three years after Qin Yan's death, Yunze was in chaos.
In the fifth year after Qin Yan's death, the spiritual energy was exhausted and all things withered. Huayang Jun Fu Changling used his own spiritual power to continue Yunze's energy.
Ten years after Qin Yan's death, in the late winter of the Guihai year, Fu Changling died on the Samsara Bridge.
From then on, there was no more Yunze.
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