Chapter 147: The Living Dead
Nanshan Temple, the rear mountain.
It was not until a full half hour after Song Yan and Ju Luyi had departed that a figure slowly emerged from the forest.
“…”
The figure swayed on its feet, limbs stiff, stumbling forward with each step.
After only a few paces, it had already begun to gasp for breath.
Its face was pale, utterly devoid of color. A fatal wound gaped at its chest, the blood long since dried and clotted.
It crawled on all fours to the burial site where Song Yan had laid the Nanshan Temple disciples to rest.
It was not a young face. Features that had once been sharp and distinct were now twisted together in agony.
Its expression was one of utter grief, yet not a single tear could fall.
It wanted to scream and wail, but no sound came out.
Its hands slammed heavily against the ground, clawing at the dirt with such force that the joints cracked and popped.
After a long while, it raised its head in despair, staring blankly at the sky.
“…”
Had Song Yan been present, he would have been utterly astonished.
For this person was none other than the Nanshan Temple Master, Lu Yuan — the man who was already “dead and his Dao extinguished.”
Yet in his current state, he bore no trace of a living being’s presence.
His limbs were stiff, his gaze unfocused, his organs already failed, and naturally, he had no pulse.
He looked more like a corpse puppet.
How had he died?
He had forgotten.
How had he come back to life?
He had forgotten that too.
There was only a faint, indistinct murmur at the edge of his hearing, impossible to make out clearly.
But he still remembered the disciples of his temple, those vibrant young faces, waiting for his return.
Yet when he had returned to the temple, all that remained were corpses strewn across the ground.
Ah Hao, Xiao Lian, Ah Ming…
The juniors he had cherished, the hope of Nanshan Temple — not a single one had survived.
How could this have happened?
How could it be like this?!
He wanted to fight those three to the death, but some strange force always held him back.
Like a marionette with its strings pulled taut.
Until Song Yan appeared…
He sat before the cenotaph the youth had erected for him, silent and still.
Song Yan was quite right — he could not remember who this youth was at all.
He thought for a long while, but with his mind now dull as a wooden fish, he could find no impression.
“…”
He did not know how much time had passed before he struggled to his feet.
He bowed in the direction Song Yan had gone.
Then, stumbling and lurching, he made his way down the mountain, eventually disappearing to the northwest.
…
Wendao Gorge, Danqing Academy.
Thanks to the trend sparked by the Dao Child’s old garden, Danqing Academy was now practically bursting at the seams.
A young girl with a childish face was slumped over a muddled ink wash painting, fast asleep.
Her Daoist robe was far too large for her, so she had folded both sleeves together to use as a pillow.
Beside her stood another female disciple — had Song Yan been there, he would have recognized her as Xiang Zhaoling.
Xiang Zhaoling held a brush and was doodling on the sleeping girl’s face, occasionally covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.
“Mm…”
The girl in her dreams scrunched up her nose, feeling a ticklish sensation. “Ah… ah-choo!”
“Stinky Ling-er, what are you doing?”
She raised her pale little hand and wiped at her face haphazardly, the sleeves of her robe now smeared with ink from the painting, which sent Xiang Zhaoling into a fit of laughter.
“I finally got to take a nap… I was having such an interesting dream, and you interrupted me again. This is all your fault.”
She hurriedly lay back down while the drowsiness still lingered, trying to pick up where the pleasant dream had left off.
“Sister Zhou, why do you always sleep and sleep and sleep? It’s so boring.” Xiang Zhaoling sat down beside the girl, resting her chin in her hand as she gazed at her drowsy face.
“Don’t call me senior sister anymore. Master said that in a few months I might get kicked out to the outer sect.”
The girl mumbled sleepily. “What?!”
Xiang Zhaoling looked shocked, then exasperated. She grabbed the girl’s shoulders and shook her vigorously.
“You need to stop sleeping!”
“It’s been three years since you joined, and you’re only at the seventh level of Qi Refining. It’s all because you sleep all day!”
The girl pouted, rubbing her eyes. “I can’t help it. Not getting enough sleep feels awful.”
“And dreaming is so much fun. Compared to that, cultivating is just… just…”
“Ugh… way too boring.”
“I was born to love sleeping. If only there were a method to cultivate in dreams, how wonderful would that be!”
The girl’s name was Zhou Mengdie. Like Xiang Zhaoling, she was a disciple of Lianyou Peak.
“That’s impossible…”
Xiang Zhaoling rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“Stop bothering me and let me sleep a while longer… Weren’t you coming to the Central Plains to find a man? Go on, go find yourself a husband. Don’t disturb my beautiful dreams.”
“Hehe, don’t tell me, but I actually met a cute and interesting senior brother before.”
“Is… is that so… What made him cute and interesting…”
Zhou Mengdie was almost asleep again, her words slurring together.
“He’s clearly very good at finding the right moment to kill and silence people, but he doesn’t dare face me in person — he must be rather shy…”
“What?!”
The girl bolted upright from the table, her wide, watery eyes staring at Xiang Zhaoling in disbelief. Every trace of sleepiness had vanished.
“K-k-k-killing?!”
Xiang Zhaoling nodded at her with a beaming smile.
“Wh-where is that cute? Fighting and killing — how is that cute? That’s terrifying… We should report him to the authorities, have him arrested…”
“Hahaha…”
Xiang Zhaoling was once again amused by Zhou Mengdie’s panicked expression.
“Sister Zhou, why are you so timid? No matter what path one cultivates, they all lead to the same destination.”
“If someone wants to kill you, how can you not kill them back? That’s just the way the world is.”
Xiang Zhaoling’s sweet smile formed a stark contrast with the words coming out of her mouth.
“Uwah, the world really is dangerous…”
Zhou Mengdie clutched her head with both hands, trembling with fear. “I’m not cultivating anymore, I’m not cultivating anymore. Once Master demotes me to the outer sect, I’ll find an excuse to leave the mountain and never come back.”
Xiang Zhaoling pouted. “Master favors you the most. Demoting you to the outer sect — I think that’s just talk.”
“Really…”
Zhou Mengdie blinked, scratching her cheek in a daze. “But cultivating is so dangerous.”
Xiang Zhaoling grinned. “Oh, it’s fine. Worst case, you come back with me to the Southern Border and I’ll look after you.”
“In half a year, the Sword Testing Tournament will begin. After it’s over, the sect disciples will be allowed to travel the world. I’ll take you to the Southern Border!”
“O-okay.” Zhou Mengdie was still somewhat dazed. “Do you have a flying spirit tool?”
“Uh… no.”
“Then for the next Sword Testing Tournament, are you confident you can take first place?”
“What’s the prize for first place?”
“I heard there’s a really powerful pill reward, and you get to choose from a bunch of things. There should be a flying spirit tool among them. That way we wouldn’t have to walk there.”
“A really powerful pill? What kind of pill is that?”
Xiang Zhaoling ignored the flying spirit tool matter entirely and seemed rather interested in the pill.
“I don’t know.” Zhou Mengdie shook her head.
“Wait, then where did you hear all this?”
“I…” Zhou Mengdie’s scratching finger froze against her cheek as she thought for a long time.
“I forgot.”
“I think I dreamed it.”