IS Chapter 112

The snow gradually lessened, but it was still falling.

In the snowy ground, a person was slowly walking forward, using a sword as a cane. He was very small, not even reaching an adult’s waist. The layers of blood on his clothes had already dried, a thick, turbid, deep red.

The night was also thick, like ink that hadn’t been ground properly. However, the snow’s light reflected on the child’s face, revealing an outline as clear as ice, as transparent as ice.

He walked forward.

His black hair was scattered down, and his entire body was pale from blood loss. With every step, all his flesh and blood trembled minutely. His movements were not like those of a normal person because all the meridians in his body were broken inch by inch, and all his spiritual energy had withered away. Anyone who saw him would know how excruciating, bone-piercing pain he had to endure with every step he took.

But he was still moving forward. He had a delicate and distinct face, on which no pain or anger could be seen, only a pure, almost cold calmness. His eyes seemed empty, he was just walking forward.

He seemed to have fallen apart and shattered, but he also seemed that he would never, ever fall down. The blade of a sword will never wear out.

He had to move forward.

If meridians broke, he would reconnect them. If his limbs became sluggish, he would just keep them moving like that. If his spiritual energy dried up, he would draw it back into his sea of qi. If his realm fell, he could raise it again.

If the sword broke, it could be reforged; if the Dao was severed, it could be cultivated again. He would keep moving forward like this; no one, nothing could stop his progress, and no amount of pain could.

He exhaled softly, looking down at his body, which seemed to be on the verge of collapse. He paused, letting the newly absorbed spiritual energy flow into his broken and disordered meridians, and then he continued walking.

Li Yuan was half a step behind him. When he took a step, Li Yuan also took a step.

At this distance and position, if he fell, Li Yuan could catch him and pull him up. If he didn’t want to walk anymore, Li Yuan could pick him up, let him lie on his shoulder, and carry him forward.

If he walked forward like this forever, Li Yuan would always guard him from behind, walking step by step, step by step.

–Although, this was just a past, unreachable illusion. And when he reached out his hand, he could only touch empty space.

Li Yuan still accompanied him, walking in the snow.

Until the snow in the sky gradually stopped, the wind no longer felt so cold, and the ambiguous sensation from the beginning of entering the heart demon illusion reappeared. On the snow surface, his shallow footprints could gradually be seen, though they were almost non-existent.

“Ye Zhuo,” Li Yuan called his name.

The child still took a slow step forward. He was covered in a wretched state, but his heart was still as clear as glass.

“Ye Zhuo,” Li Yuan said, “You will definitely get through this.”

The child’s footsteps paused slightly.

Li Yuan saw him slowly turn his head, looking in his direction.

Who was that gaze looking at? At this moment, Li Yuan heard hurried and chaotic footsteps coming from behind.

He also turned his head and saw a disheveled figure in dark blue stumbling towards them, his gait even more unsteady than the five or six-year-old child.

Li Yuan saw that once elegant and playful face, now distraught and disheveled.

–It was the Swordsmith.

In the snowy ground, a child covered in blood was quietly looking at him. The Swordsmith saw the figure of Yun Xiangzhuo, and his already pale face lost even more color.

“Xiao Zhuo!” He used his lightness skill and hurriedly landed in front of Yun Xiangzhuo, kneeling down, his trembling fingers stroking Ye Zhuo’s cheeks. “Xiao Zhuo… why are you here… you have so much blood on you, are you in pain? What happened to you?”

He saw Yun Xiangzhuo slowly shake his head.

The Swordsmith took a deep breath, his body still trembling violently.

He grasped Yun Xiangzhuo’s shoulders, lowered his head, and pressed his forehead against that cold skin, closing his eyes deeply.

This was the first time Yun Xiangzhuo had not avoided his touch.

“Xiao Zhuo, you’re still alive… it’s good that you’re alive.” His words were fragmented and incoherent. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Xiao Zhuo, I’m late. I was delayed for so long. I knew tonight was the Mid-Autumn Festival, and I wanted to bring osmanthus wine to celebrate with you all–”

“Lingye is dead,” he heard Yun Xiangzhuo say calmly, “If you hadn’t been delayed, you would be dead now too.”

The Swordsmith looked up blankly, “Is… is anyone else alive?”

“No one.”

“Then… who is it?”

*Why ask?* The person being asked thought. *You can tell at a glance.*

He said, “Yun Xiangxi.”

The Swordsmith trembled as he hugged him, a sound like a sob or a laugh escaping his throat.

“So… it really was him. Do you know? Xiao Zhuo, on the way, I heard such loud sounds of tribulation lightning, but when I got to the manor, there was no sound at all. The first thing I saw was a severed hand, and I looked at it for a long time. Do you know what I was thinking? I was thinking, why does this look so much like a wound left by Xiangxi Sword?”

“Because it was left by Xiangxi Sword.”

“But why?” The Swordsmith looked at Yun Xiangzhuo with red eyes. “Why would he do this?”

“Because he discovered that he was actually developing a little bit of emotion. So he abandoned the Path of Emotionlessness to see how serious the problem really was.”

“Then, he discovered that it was nothing much, just an illusion that wouldn’t hinder his cultivation.”

“–And then?”

“Then he restored his cultivation. However, he felt that he should reconsider his path. Today, he had the illusion of a little bit of emotion and abandoned his cultivation to verify it. If he continued, wouldn’t the illusion appear again? Wouldn’t it really hinder his cultivation one day? Or would it hinder my cultivation?”

“So, he killed everyone and then ascended.”

The Swordsmith looked at him in disbelief. “No… how could he… do such a thing?”

“Wouldn’t he?” The child asked him in return.

Since the Dao heart was truly singular, then there was truly nothing else. He would do anything.

“I thought about it later, actually, he didn’t ascend because he killed everyone. He could have ascended long ago, but he stayed because of me. Now he thinks staying was a mistake. He doesn’t want to continue making mistakes, so he ended everything and ascended, he will continue to cultivate his Path of Emotionlessness in the Immortal Realm.”

Yun Xiangzhuo’s words fell into the Swordsmith’s ears, particularly indifferent, particularly calm.

“…Oh,” as if he suddenly understood something, he said again, “Actually, this can’t be considered killing to prove the Dao, right? He just killed because he wanted to kill, it has nothing to do with his Dao. But he was still afraid.”

“Xiao Zhuo–” The Swordsmith hugged him, burying his face deeply in that small, thin shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I never saw his heart clearly, never saw his Dao clearly. I didn’t know he would do this. I forged Xiangxi Sword, I was late, I–”

“It wasn’t you, it was him.” Replying to him was a voice so calm that it felt absurd. “Without you, there would be no Xiangxi Sword. Without Lingye, there would be no me. But without him, none of this would have happened.”

“Xiao Zhuo, are you in pain?” The Swordsmith’s eyes were full of tears. Yun Xiangzhuo hadn’t cried yet, but this adult was crying first. “If you feel pain, just cry it out, okay? If you feel uncomfortable, if you feel hate, hit me, kill me, okay?”

“No. I can’t cry.”

“I also can’t feel pain, can’t feel hate,” he said calmly.

“I still have to forge my sword, cultivate my sword Dao. I can’t let those things appear in my sword, otherwise, I won’t be able to kill him.”

The Swordsmith stared at him blankly.

Hearing these words, Li Yuan’s mind shook suddenly. He looked at Yun Xiangzhuo’s eyes — eyes clear as frost and snow, and he was sure that these were Ye Zhuo’s eyes. It turned out that from this time on, Yun Xiangzhuo had become the Ye Zhuo of the future.

His heart suddenly jumped, and he suddenly understood many people and many things.

He finally understood the strange coldness and the strange stagnation in all the scenes of the heart demon illusion. Everything was in the mirror, everything was underwater.

He also finally saw a glimpse of the real Ye Zhuo — the empty Ye Zhuo, the mirage-like Ye Zhuo, the Ye Zhuo whose heart was like a bright mirror and whose body was like colored glass.

He had suffered torment like ten thousand arrows piercing his heart. He had lost everything that could be lost, and everything that could be broken had been broken. He had ten thousand reasons to feel pain, to hate, to shed tears, to scream, but he chose to bury everything in the snow.

Lingye told him to forget all this, but he wouldn’t forget. He just said that he had forgotten when others asked.

Behind him, a raging fire of karma was burning. If that fire burned in his heart, it could reduce his three souls and seven spirits to ashes, could turn anyone into a puppet of hatred, into an irrational beast, suffering torment and burning day after day.

Perhaps that would also unleash a good sword, but that was not the sword Ye Zhuo wanted, nor was it the Dao Ye Zhuo wanted to cultivate. That would betray everyone.

He only wanted to cultivate the Dao in his own heart.

He had to control that fire, he had to overcome it, and he had to overcome himself. He had to be clear-headed, he had to be persistent, forever without external objects in his heart, forever moving forward without hesitation.

For the sake of what he wanted to achieve, he couldn’t even allow himself to wallow in that moment of pain. Almost no one in the world could transcend greed, anger, and delusion, but he was precisely the one who could do it. He was like jade, like colored glass, the more the fire burned, the more pure his heart would become. The lotus root was rooted in the muddy soil, yet it still bloomed into the most beautiful, the most pure, and the most solemn aquatic flower in the world.

He understood everything, but nothing would change his heart. He had things he had to do, but he also had a Dao that belonged only to himself, and he would keep moving forward.

This was Ye Zhuo. There was only one Ye Zhuo in heaven and earth.

Li Yuan couldn’t regain his senses for a long time.

The night wind blew across the fields.

“Also,” the child’s tender and clear voice said solemnly, “I don’t want this name anymore.”

The Swordsmith: “Then what should I call you?”

“Ye Zhuo. The *zhuo* with the fire radical.” He said, “My name is Ye Zhuo.”

“Okay,” the Swordsmith said, “Xiao Zhuo.”

The Swordsmith picked him up, looking around Illusory Cloud Cliff.

“Xiao Zhuo, we have to leave.” All the guilt and gloom were suppressed in his heart, and the Swordsmith forced himself to regain his composure in a few breaths. “I was originally coming to Illusory Cloud Cliff, so I arrived the fastest. All the sects can sense the tribulation lightning, and can see the light of ascension. Soon, the Upper Purity Mountain and other sects will arrive.”

“There’s no one left in Illusory Cloud Cliff, but the spiritual vein is still there. The Upper Purity Mountain has been waiting for six years, they have eyes that have been watching this place all the time, with the spiritual vein here, they will definitely come to take it.”

“Also, the sword vein–” The Swordsmith stopped halfway through his sentence when he saw the flashing light of the sword vein scattered on the ground, and didn’t continue.

“They swallowed the spiritual vein. If they know that you still exist in the world, they will definitely cut the grass and eliminate the root,” the Swordsmith said. “They won’t let another Number One Sword Under Heaven who can cultivate to this level appear in the world, especially since everyone understands their relationship with the Qiongtong Temple. I have to take you away, we’re going back to Sword Casting Valley.”

“Then let’s go,” Ye Zhuo said.

“What about the people here? Xiao Zhuo,” the Swordsmith said, “What about those spiritual stones, treasures, and sword manuals?”

The five or six-year-old Ye Zhuo slowly looked towards the continuous immortal palaces, the snow-white graves: “Take what you need. Leave what you don’t need here.”

“Leave it to the Upper Purity Mountain and the various sects?”

And those — corpses under Xiangxi Sword.

“Don’t leave anything, burn it,” Ye Zhuo said calmly, “You are a Swordsmith, you have earth fire, sky fire, true fire, spiritual fire.”

“–What about the legacy of Illusory Sword Manor?”

“I remember everything,” Ye Zhuo replied calmly.

The Swordsmith took a deep breath: “Okay, burn it all.”

So the fire of Illusory Sword Manor blazed. The fire was bright red, engulfing everything. The past years seemed to have turned into scattered ashes.

Li Yuan stood in the fire, watching the Swordsmith silently pick up the young Ye Zhuo and walk out of Illusory Cloud Cliff. Ye Zhuo’s fingers were gripping his shoulder, looking back at the blazing fire sea of Illusory Sword Manor, the firelight always reflected in his eyes.

Li Yuan couldn’t follow anymore, the mist separated him again, the heart demon illusion seemed to have reached its end. But Li Yuan knew that everything had just begun.

In that year, the Swordsmith sealed his forge, no longer forging new swords for anyone other than Ye Zhuo.

In that year, the Ginyue Abbot of Qiongtong Temple went into seclusion and no longer appeared, refusing to see the main sect of Upper Purity.

In that year, the still unknown Red Dust Sword Immortal destroyed his Path of Emotionlessness and reforged the Floating Life Sword.

In that year, the Upper Purity Sword Sect obtained a small piece of sword vein called “Immeasurable Emptiness,” which was later planted in the heart meridian of Su Yizhen, the chief disciple of the Sword Sect.

And Li Yuan also knew that in that year, the equally young Wei Sheng Xian knelt in front of his master’s door for three days and three nights, saying that he wanted to go down the mountain.

It seemed that many things started from this, and these things seemed to have been foreshadowed long ago.

And Ye Zhuo left Illusory Cloud Cliff with his Embracing Sleeve Sword. Eight years later, he was thirteen years old. In that year, he went to Spirit Mountain, and two years later, he returned to the mortal world. At the age of fifteen, he had his Natal Sword. At the age of eighteen, he brought Reverse Scale Sword to the Ullambana Assembly, challenged all the sword cultivators in the world, and became the Number One Sword Under Heaven.

Later, he also came to the mortal world again, seeking revenge on Ye Zhuo for that sword.

When will the fire of Illusory Sword Manor be extinguished? It seems that it has not been extinguished even now. Li Yuan walked towards the depths of the immortal palace.

The feeling of being in an illusion still lingered around him. He had actually been here, on the fifteenth of August last year, a collapsed immortal cliff scorched by fire, everything inside was empty, everything was erased.

Walking through it again, many memories from Ye Zhuo seemed to surge up again. Li Yuan just kept walking inside, he walked towards the stone wall behind the mountain. He knew that an invisible sword was carved there, as if transforming into thousands of sword forms, and the ancestral motto of Illusory Sword Manor “A Single Dao Heart” was engraved in the lower right corner. It was here that he first met Xiao Su.

Li Yuan suddenly understood that that was where Immeasurable Emptiness had once been.

He arrived there.

A tall and beautiful figure in red robes was standing in front of the stone wall, quietly looking at that invisible sword.

This was the twenty-five or six-year-old Ye Zhuo. The Ye Zhuo he knew.

“So you were here.” Li Yuan walked over and stood next to him. “Why didn’t you come with me?”

“If you want to see the things of the past, why should I disturb you?” He heard the man’s calm voice, cold as ice water.

“Then what about you?” Li Yuan said, “Where were you when I was watching?”

Ye Zhuo seemed to chuckle lightly. He didn’t say anything, he turned and walked in another direction: “Follow me.”

Li Yuan followed.

But they didn’t walk side by side, always half a step behind.

*Snakes love to follow people,* Ye Zhuo thought.

“Don’t fall,” Li Yuan frowned and said to Ye Zhuo ahead as he walked on the steep stone path.

“.”

*Whose home is this?* Ye Zhuo wanted to ask him.