Chapter 65: Can We Begin Anew?
Long Yan could not tear his eyes away from Ye Zhao Zhao. For her sake, he had given up everything. Should she not, in turn, offer him a glimmer of hope?
[He feared becoming nothing more than a drifting spirit, empty and numb.]
Once, Li Shuang had nourished his soul; surely, Ye Zhao Zhao could do the same. Yet Long Yan knew a thing or two about her nature. He had always believed that, to her, he was unique—a man who had seen the shadow lurking in her heart. At one time, he even found a strange allure in her dark side. But now, that same darkness filled him with cold dread.
Ye Zhao Zhao had shown the same ruthless heart that Luo Ming Yue had accused her of. Long Yan felt the corrupt energy within him slowly boiling over. He worried that if he waited too long, he would vanish into nothingness.
“Zhao Zhao!” Long Yan cried out, his face contorted with pain. “I beg you—do not abandon me. Save me!”
All eyes turned to Ye Zhao Zhao. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she bit her lip, forcing herself to speak. “I… I will try once more.”
She summoned her inner strength. Since stepping into this realm, her journey had been like a gentle stream. The spiritual energy, which other cultivators struggled to gain over many years, had been gifted to her by Li Shuang. But now, for the first time, she faced the true hardships of cultivation.
Seven, eight times she tried and failed. Each attempt sent searing pain through her meridians, and her face turned pale as if drained by winter frost. Still, she persisted. In her heart, she cursed Li Shuang, Long Yan, and everyone on Spirit Void Peak, even the entire Sword Sect—over and over again. And then, at last, success.
A slender thread of Sword Energy burst from her fingertips.
“Too much. Withdraw some of it,” Li Shuang instructed in a calm, cool tone.
Ye Zhao Zhao met Li Shuang’s gaze. Li Shuang’s face was as still as a quiet lake. “The Sword Spirit’s body is too fragile to bear such force.”
With gritted teeth, Ye Zhao Zhao reined in a portion of the energy.
“Good. Next time, release one more thread than this,” Li Shuang advised steadily.
Sharp and wild, the energy surged through her meridians. Yet she could only bear it, maintaining her composed mask. In that moment, resentment toward Long Yan sprouted in her heart like a poisonous weed. If only this one trial were enough! But Long Yan—this wretched, tainted Sword Spirit—could summon impure energy at any time. Was this not a curse that doomed her to endless torment?
Ye Zhao Zhao felt the brink of madness. Now she knew: Li Shuang had purposely entrusted her with this defiled Sword Spirit. And she—she had fallen into his snare!
Time and again, she unleashed her Sword Energy, her face growing ever paler. But her pace was too slow. The dark energy within Long Yan surged without pause.
“Zhao Zhao, hurry! My spirit form… I cannot hold on much longer!” Long Yan pleaded, his voice laced with desperation.
Ye Zhao Zhao glared at him, her eyes burning with fierce anger. How dare he urge her on when she was suffering so deeply?
“Long Yan, you have gone too far! Can’t you see the pain Zhao Zhao endures?” roared Chang Le An, his voice thick with fury.
“When Little Shuang suffered, did she not endure pain countless times?” countered Liu Jun Cheng, raising an eyebrow. “Did Ye Zhao Zhao not insist that Li Shuang forsake Long Yan and that she, pure of heart, had taken him in? If she is truly kind, surely she can bear this agony?”
“Surely not! Surely she is not giving up yet?” Luo Ming Yue chimed in sweetly. “If she were, then one’s so-called kindness might be rather limited.”
Chang Le An leapt to his feet to argue, but Ye Zhao Zhao, her face as pale as paper, interjected softly, “Third Senior Brother, it is enough. I… I can do this.”
She had come too far now; she had to finish what she had begun. To maintain her proud image, and perhaps to earn a shred of sympathy, she pressed on. “I… I can keep going,” she whispered, summoning her Sword Energy once more.
But it was too late. Long Yan’s spirit form, weakened by the tainted energy, began to unravel. With a tortured cry, he felt his body slip away until only a faint, translucent soul remained, his face etched with deep resentment.
“What a pity,” sighed Li Shuang. “Junior Sister Ye, had you been but a moment quicker, Long Yan would not have lost his form.”
Her eyes, however, were as cold as frozen steel.
With Ye Zhao Zhao’s mediocre skills, suffering was inevitable. And Long Yan? He was doomed to dissipate into the void. Retribution crept steadily like an unseen enemy, and Li Shuang would stand afar on safe ground, watching them sink into the abyss.
Long Yan gazed upon his now-transparent body, despair tearing his features apart. Ye Zhao Zhao’s face told a similar tale—every ounce of pain had been in vain, for this useless Sword Spirit had faded into nothingness. Had all her efforts been for naught?
“Little Junior Sister, expel the last traces of the tainted energy,” Shen Yue reminded her with a heavy sigh.
Though unwilling, Ye Zhao Zhao obeyed, purging the final whispers of corruption. But it was too late—Long Yan had lost his physical form completely. Who knew how much his strength had been diminished?
“It is done. Junior Sister Ye, you have mastered the Sword Energy Cleansing Technique. When the taint returns next time, use this method again,” Li Shuang said evenly. “I foresee its return in three months. Be prepared. The bond between you and Long Yan is touching. No matter the cost, I trust you will nurture him well.”
The tale was not yet over. The next page beckoned with thrilling promise.
“As his former master, I struggled to form his corporeal body. Junior Sister Ye, you possess remarkable talent. Perhaps one day, you will achieve the Union of Man and Sword and attune yourselves to the Heavenly Dao. I offer you my blessings—may you be bound together for eternity.”
Union of Man and Sword, attuning to the Heavenly Dao? Long Yan and Ye Zhao Zhao exchanged glances, but in each other’s eyes they only saw bitterness.
Long Yan felt resentment—Ye Zhao Zhao had failed him and caused his form to vanish.
Ye Zhao Zhao resented Long Yan for his defiled nature that forced her to suffer.
Li Shuang watched in silent judgment.
Long Yan, a Sword Spirit, had once nurtured deep feelings for Ye Zhao Zhao. For her, he had betrayed his own nature. And yet, his affection now withered away—had resentment already taken root? How utterly tragic.
“Enough. The taint is expelled. If you have no further use, leave now,” Luo Ming Yue commanded with thinly veiled impatience.
Long Yan hovered in midair, unable to move. A thought struck him—if he were a peerless Sword Spirit, it would not matter which path he chose. But he was not. He was merely a defiled Sword Spirit, doomed to be consumed by the taint as long as he clung to Ye Zhao Zhao. Only Li Shuang could guide him back to the summit.
Long Yan looked at Li Shuang with yearning. “I… I never knew how much you had sacrificed for me. There have been too many misunderstandings between us. But misunderstandings can be mended. Can we… start anew?”
His gaze was firm, his determination absolute.
Li Shuang had cared for him long enough. Thirteen years had passed together—surely her heart held some warmth for him.
Before she could answer, Ye Zhao Zhao let out an uncontrollable scream, shattering the silence.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation