Chapter 31

On the first night after arriving at Guiyuan City, Chun Chou had the nightmare again.

In the dream, through a hazy blur, he saw Xie Fusheng.

When Xie Fusheng was nine years old, he was selected by recruiters from the Guiyuan Sect and brought from the mortal world into the cultivation world.

When cultivators went to the mortal world to select disciples, they only accepted those with single spiritual roots, and those under the age of ten. This made the young Xie Fusheng believe that everyone in the cultivation world must be geniuses with single spiritual roots. Sitting aboard that luxurious flying vessel, heading toward the cultivation world, he felt nothing but nervousness and fear.

However, on the flying vessel, his younger sister Xie Youyou was quite clever. She secretly overheard the cultivators saying that in truth, all kinds of spiritual roots existed in the cultivation world, and single or dual spiritual roots were actually rare talents. If such people had been born in the cultivation world, they would have been fought over everywhere. But since they were born in the mortal world, it meant they lacked the fate for immortality. Staying in the mortal world instead of entering the cultivation world was simply their destiny. After all, cultivation resources were limited—it wouldn’t do to let mortals take a share.

Though clever, Xie Youyou didn’t fully understand these words. After repeating them to her siblings, she whispered, “It would be nice if big brother had come too.”

Xie Fusheng thought the same. Their eldest brother had always treated them well. After their parents passed away, if not for him taking care of them, they would have become orphans. How could they have studied at the cultivation academy and continued their training without interruption?

Still, he softly explained to his younger siblings, “Big brother is afraid that if he came, he would only burden us.”

Their eldest brother’s aptitude was not good—in fact, it was quite poor. If he came to the cultivation world, he would neither attain immortality nor freedom. It was better not to come at all. Moreover, Xie Fusheng had clearly heard the examiner say to their brother that day: “With your aptitude, why go to the cultivation world only to drag your younger siblings down?”

It was likely those words that made their brother decide not to come.

The dream then became chaotic, and when the scene grew somewhat clear again, it showed Xie Fusheng holding Xie Yaoyao as the siblings prepared to part ways. Xie Fusheng hated himself for not being able to take care of his siblings—he had lost contact with Changnian and Youyou ,and Yaoyao was not even in the same sect as him.

At nine years old, with a single spiritual root and an innate sword body, Xie Fusheng had just entered the Guiyuan Sect when he was accepted as a disciple by the sect master. Yet when the sect master looked at him, there was both joy and regret in his eyes. Xie Fusheng couldn’t understand what that meant, but the sect master treated him very well—lavishing him with resources and strictly urging him to cultivate.

At the age of ten, he was urged to build his foundation as soon as possible. He was told it was for the sake of the world—one must act for the sake of the world and the sect. Besides, even after foundation establishment, it wasn’t as though he could never grow again; once he reached the Nascent Soul stage, reshaping the body would be possible.

Xie Fusheng did not want this. Who would want to remain in the form of a child forever? But his master insisted—it was for the world and the sect. Together with the elders, they persuaded him.

In the end, Xie Fusheng… agreed.

At eleven, he established his foundation, and from then on remained in the form of a child. Following his master and the elders’ instructions, he swallowed large amounts of pills every day. Aside from a little time for sleep, all his time was spent practicing the sword. Every day, one of the elders would come personally to supervise him with strict discipline.

The pressure on Xie Fusheng was immense, yet he was also grateful. He practiced diligently every day, never daring to slack off. At such a young age, he became the senior disciple of his generation, admired by all his peers.

Until he turned fifteen—though he still looked eleven—a new junior disciple arrived at Guiyuan Sword Sect.

This new disciple was actually two years older than him. He was free-spirited, handsome, and sweet-tongued. From the sect master and elders to the fellow disciples, everyone liked him very much. The sect master even said that this new junior brother was more suited to the sword and better able to shoulder the responsibility of saving the world.

From then on, no one paid attention to Xie Fusheng anymore. He was treated as just an ordinary inner disciple. All the elders placed their hopes on the talented yet playful junior brother. Even when he angered them to the point of blowing their beards and glaring, they still favored him. Fellow disciples also preferred his company, finding him humorous and charming—far better than the gloomy and unpredictable senior brother.

Xie Fusheng struggled in pain, but in the end… he accepted his fate.

It was only later that the master and the elders suddenly realized that although the new junior disciple possessed an innate sword cultivator’s sacred physique, something was still missing within his body. Only by completing that missing part would he be able to wield the ancestral heavy sword of the Guiyuan Sword Sect.

They had originally thought that this missing piece existed somewhere in the cultivation world—but unexpectedly, it was inside Xie Fusheng.

They demanded that Xie Fusheng hand it over for the sake of the world.

However, that thing had already taken deep root in Xie Fusheng’s dantian. To remove it would likely destroy his aptitude and cultivation.

Xie Fusheng refused. He said he was willing to shoulder the burden and save the world, but he would not give up that thing and ruin himself.

Unfortunately, no one was willing to listen. They only insisted that he extract it and give it to the junior disciple—who was weaker than him in both cultivation and combat ability but was favored by the entire sect. If he refused, he would be expelled.

Just as Xie Fusheng was being pressured by this so-called “teacher’s grace” into compromise, a major incident occurred in the Guiyuan Sword Sect. He uncovered a great secret—and alongside that secret came the death of the sect leader, who was killed by his own self-created sword technique. That technique was known only to his two most valued disciples: Xie Fusheng and that junior disciple.

As a result, Xie Fusheng was hunted down by righteous cultivators and forced to flee across the cultivation world, repeatedly falling into life-and-death peril…

…

When Chun Chou awoke from the nightmare, his forehead was drenched in cold sweat.

Perhaps because this was not the first time he had such a dream, he did not rush to find Ling Wuji as he had before. Instead, he sat blankly on the bed for a while, then got up, frowned, and went to bathe in the middle of the night before heading to Ling Wuji’s room.

Ling Wuji, having heard Chun Chou leave to bathe, had already placed two luminous pearls in the room. He leaned quietly against the head of the bed, waiting for Chun Chou to come.

Sure enough, after bathing, Chun Chou—his hair still slightly damp—ran in, jumped onto the bed, slipped under the covers, and leaned against the headboard beside him.

At that moment, Chun Chou’s eyes were full of confusion.

Ling Wuji paused, took his hand, and asked, “What’s wrong? Did you think of something unpleasant?”

“I don’t know,” Chun Chou said. “I suddenly thought of the night we decided to come to the cultivation world—the night we got married. We were both very young, not even twenty. But Fusheng and Yaoyao were even younger. How could children that young become great villains hated by the entire cultivation world? Even if someone wanted to target them because of us, it should have been years later. But in that dream, it seemed like we didn’t notice anything strange at all.”

In fact, until this dream, Chun Chou hadn’t realized anything was wrong.

“It feels like there’s some hidden force pushing us to do all these things,” he continued, then recounted the nightmare.

“Even though the dream was vague and fragmented, I have this feeling that what happened in it will occur in the future. But even if those events really happen, by the time Fusheng is labeled a great demon, we should already be married—maybe even old. Yet in that dream, we were still so young, just newly married. It’s too strange.”

These dreams made Chun Chou feel like he was a character in a game—normally left alone by the player, but at key moments controlled to follow a predetermined storyline.

Chun Chou: “…” That felt… a little pitiful.

Ling Wuji had already harbored some suspicions. But regarding Chun Chou’s earlier decision, he agreed in his heart—he did not know whether there would be another life, so if he could spend more time with Chun Chou in this one, he was willing.

Seeing Chun Chou so troubled now, Ling Wuji thought for a moment and said, “It might not be that someone else is showing you these things. It could be your own perception under worry.”

Chun Chou widened his eyes.

“Have you forgotten?” Ling Wuji continued. “You have many spiritual roots—we can’t even determine how many. Why couldn’t one of them grant you the ability to foresee the future? It’s just that you don’t understand or control it, so only when you’re deeply worried about something do you glimpse possible futures in your dreams.”

Chun Chou felt this explanation was absurd.

Yet strangely, it also made a certain sense.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s real anymore. Forget it. We’re already in Guiyuan City. Although the Guiyuan Sword Sect doesn’t allow rogue cultivators to enter, we should still be able to send a message. I need to meet Fusheng and the others.”

Ling Wuji hummed in agreement, reached out to touch Chun Chou’s hair, then took a strand and lightly sniffed it.

“It smells nice.”

For some reason, Chun Chou’s face flushed.

Ling Wuji, however, looked completely at ease. Letting go of the strand, he said calmly, “Your hair is dry. We can sleep now.” He patted the pillow. “There’s only one pillow… let’s sleep together.”

Chun Chou responded with a soft “mm,” thought for a moment, and then lay down.

Ling Wuji put away the luminous pearls. With his beloved close beside him, their heads touching, he quietly drifted to sleep.

The two youths lay close together. In the unfamiliar Guiyuan City, they felt only warmth.

The next morning, after meditating, Ling Wuji prepared breakfast while Chun Chou tended to the dozen or so spiritual herbs they had brought. He used growth and rain spells on them, ensuring they had survived the journey well before feeling at ease.

After eating together, they headed out.

Guiyuan City was vast and bustling. Even early in the morning, the nearby small market was already crowded.

Though Chun Chou and Ling Wuji had some plans in mind, they passed by the small market without entering and went straight to the largest one in the city—the Guiyuan Market, which belonged to the Guiyuan Sword Sect.

Chun Chou thought that since it was under the sect’s control, there would surely be disciples there—outer disciples, servant disciples, anyone connected to the sect. With their help, finding Xie Fusheng and the others shouldn’t be too difficult.

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