Fallen At A Glance Chapter 4

Found You Again

Not long after the Mintan Sect incident, another sect, the Lingqiu Sect, was also annihilated.

Light broke through the clouds, and the morning sun scattered its rays.

The Lingqiu Sect’s mountain gate was majestic. Disciples lined up on the white jade steps for morning practice. The bell chimes were melodious, and spiritual mist swirled, presenting a scene of immortal grandeur.

Just then—

A black shadow stepped forth from the horizon.

He did not ride the clouds, nor did he wield a sword to fly; he simply walked, yet each step traversed the seams of time. His dark robe billowed, and his face was covered by a bronze mask that was half-smiling, half-crying. His dark eyes gleamed faintly in the sunlight. It was Yun Suiyi.

He arrived openly, without concealment, as if he were not coming to annihilate a sect, but to keep an appointment.

“Who dares trespass upon the Lingqiu Sect!” a patrolling Lingqiu Sect disciple shouted. Before his sword light could rise, Yun Suiyi gently raised his hand, flicked a finger, and a sword energy condensed from the void, slicing across the sky like an ink line.

“Pfft—”

The three disciples collapsed before they could even scream. A black mark appeared on their foreheads, their souls severed.

“Enemy attack!” The alarm bell attempted to ring, but its body was already covered in cracks and shattered upon contact.

Yun Suiyi continued forward, his pace neither hurried nor slow, as if he were merely taking a stroll. Where he walked, spiritual herbs withered, talismans spontaneously combusted, and even the air seemed to be twisted by some invisible force.

“Who are you?!” The Lingqiu Sect Master stood suspended in the air, his immortal artifact radiating ten thousand beams of light. “How dare you violate the sacred grounds of my Lingqiu Sect in broad daylight!”

Yun Suiyi finally stopped, looking up at the high-and-mighty Sect Master. His voice, muffled by the mask, was chillingly calm: “You claim the name of the righteous path, yet you commit the deeds of beasts. Today, I shall use your blood to cleanse the sins you have committed.”

As his voice fell, he slowly drew his sword.

The sword was not yet unsheathed, but the world had already changed.

Daylight abruptly dimmed. Ink-like clouds surged, and the sunlight was twisted by some force, scattering down in blood-red patches. The protective formation around the Sect Master’s residence roared to life, four pillars of light shooting into the sky, attempting to suppress him.

Yun Suiyi neither dodged nor avoided. He simply gave a gentle swing, and the sharp sword left its sheath.

There was no earth-shattering roar, only a single streak of ink-black sword light, like a tide of night, slowly sweeping over the mountain gate.

Where it passed, the pillars of light fractured, the talisman arrays disintegrated, and the disciples rushing over felt their souls tremble, crying out in agony. Some fell to their knees weeping, while others collapsed outright.

“Insolent brat!” the Lingqiu Sect Master roared, swinging his sword to unleash a Spiritual Light Slash. The sword energy, like a rainbow, shot straight for Yun Suiyi’s head.

Yun Suiyi raised his sword to block. The two swords met silently, and a few wounds slowly appeared on Yun Suiyi’s body.

The Lingqiu Sect Master, believing he had found a chance at survival, laughed loudly, “Boy, to dare come alone to my Lingqiu Sect is utter folly. Leave your life here.”

The moment they connected, the Lingqiu Sect Master’s sword began to crack, losing all spiritual light, and finally crumbled into dust. He retreated in horror: “You are so young, why do you harbor such great hatred for me? I swear I have never met you!”

Yun Suiyi slowly advanced, “It is right that you haven’t met me, for I was born to be the one who kills you.”

Yun Suiyi struck with his full power. The sword light flashed, aiming directly for the Lingqiu Sect Master’s head.

The Lingqiu Sect Master resisted desperately, “Are you looking for the wrong person? I have never seen you.”

Yun Suiyi stood in the center of the ruins, looking down at the struggling Lingqiu Sect Master, and said softly, “Fifteen years ago, Azure Cloud Sect, Yun Ai.”

“You!!” The Lingqiu Sect Master’s eyes filled with terror.

“The next will be the Azure Cloud Sect.”

With that, the sword struck, and the Lingqiu Sect Master fell.

…

The night was ink-black. Mountain winds swept withered leaves, swirling through the secluded valley. The crescent moon was obscured by thick clouds, leaving only scattered faint light falling upon the jagged rocks.

A figure lay curled up among the scattered stones by the stream. His clothes were tattered, their original color indistinguishable, save for the mottled bloodstains splashed like ink, soaking the fabric and congealing into a dark red, hard shell.

This person was Yun Suiyi. Annihilating two major sects in one month had cost him dearly—wounding the enemy by a thousand, but damaging himself by two thousand.

Yun Suiyi lay on his side, a deep, bone-visible sword wound running across his shoulder blade. Although the blood had clotted, dark red threads still slowly seeped out, tracing the curve of his spine and dripping into the shallow puddle beneath him, spreading circles of crimson ripples.

His sleeves were soaked through with blood, clinging to his skin, trembling slightly with his weak breaths.

Most shocking was the wound on his abdomen—the flesh was charred and curled, as if injured by some sinister talisman or demonic artifact. The edges were a strange bluish-gray, and faint black energy moved beneath the skin, slowly wriggling as if alive. This injury not only damaged his muscles and bones but also corroded his meridians, blocking the flow of Spiritual Power.

Yun Suiyi coughed twice, dark red bloody foam spilling from his lips, mixing with the dirt and dripping onto his mouth. His eyes were tightly shut, his brows deeply furrowed, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. His face was pale as paper, but his lips were tinged with blue and purple. His breathing was so faint it was almost imperceptible.

His hair was messy, stuck to his temples, matted into strands by blood and sweat. A few strands hung over his blood-stained cheek, trembling slightly with his weak breaths.

Just then, slow footsteps sounded from the end of the mountain path.

Lian Mu, clad in a simple white robe, walked slowly forward. His moon-white long gown fluttered gently in the night wind, making him look like a banished immortal. He had come following a faint, unusual spiritual power fluctuation, but he had not expected to find such a tragic scene in this desolate place.

Lian Mu paused, his gaze instantly focusing. The person lying in the pool of blood, though haggard and covered in wounds, still retained that familiar, untamed curve between his brows, which had not completely faded even in unconsciousness—Yun Suiyi.

Lian Mu recognized him immediately and quickly stepped forward, crouching down. He lightly probed Yun Suiyi’s pulse, finding it intermittent and weak, like a candle flame in the wind, liable to extinguish at any moment.

Lian Mu frowned deeply. “How could he be so severely injured…”

Gently pushing aside the blood-matted hair from Yun Suiyi’s forehead, he felt a scorching heat—a high fever had invaded his lungs and viscera. Looking at the charred burn, Lian Mu’s pupils contracted. He recognized it as a cursed wound left by a poisoned artifact. If not treated promptly, even the soul would be eroded.

“What exactly did you… go through?” Lian Mu sighed softly, his tone carrying a rare hint of pity.

Without hesitation, he removed his outer robe and gently wrapped it around Yun Suiyi’s trembling body. With one hand, he steadily supported his back, and with the other, he slipped under his knees, carefully lifting him into his arms.

Yun Suiyi let out a muffled groan in his unconscious state, his brows tightly knitted, but he was too weak to resist.

Lian Mu held him, his steps steady, searching for a temporary cave in the mountains. His silhouette was long and solitary in the moonlight. The night wind swept past, stirring the corners of their robes, as if softly chanting a mournful elegy for this heavily wounded soul.

The mountain wind whistled through the trees, carrying coldness and the damp scent of vegetation. A hidden cave was tucked beneath a cliff, concealed by hanging vines; it would be hard to spot without close inspection. Inside, the stone walls were damp and cold, and water droplets fell from the rock ceiling, making a dripping sound like the low chime of a water clock.

Lian Mu carried the heavily injured Yun Suiyi into the cave, his steps firm. He gently placed Yun Suiyi on a dry stone platform. Moonlight slanted in from the entrance, illuminating the face as pale as paper—his lips were bloodless, his breathing weak, and his clothes, soaked through with blood, were beyond their original color.

Saving him was paramount. Lian Mu quickly removed Yun Suiyi’s outer robe and used silver needles to seal several vital points, halting the spread of the poison. He then took out his personal medicine pouch, working swiftly. First, he cleaned the wounds with strong alcohol. As the liquid touched the flesh, Yun Suiyi frowned deeply but did not open his eyes.

Lian Mu took out a dagger as thin as a cicada’s wing, briefly heated it over a tinder stick, and then decisively cut away the necrotic flesh from the wound. Blood mixed with black pus slowly flowed out, the stench pungent. He did not flinch, wiping away the foul blood with a clean cloth before applying a dark green Disinfectant Powder. The medicine’s clear scent faintly suppressed the sinister energy.

After treating the most critical cursed wound, Lian Mu began bandaging Yun Suiyi’s other injuries.

However, when he saw the crisscrossing whip marks on his back, the skin torn open, with some areas revealing the pale tendons beneath, and blood mixed with sweat, Lian Mu’s expression grew heavy. Judging by the color of the whip marks, they were not inflicted at the same time. Who could have beaten Yun Suiyi to such a state?

Lian Mu carefully removed Yun Suiyi’s clothes and gently and meticulously applied medicine to him.

An hour later, Lian Mu, having finally finished applying the medicine, let out a breath. It had been many years since he had applied medicine to someone inch by inch. The last time was when he found Yun Suiyi outside Pingyang City.

Seeing that Yun Suiyi was fast asleep, Lian Mu got up to find some firewood. Given Yun Suiyi’s injuries, they would likely be staying in this cave for the next few days.

It was better to have a fire burning. The mountain valley was inherently cold at night, and Yun Suiyi was lying almost naked on the stone platform. Although he had Lian Mu’s outer garment as padding, it was still extremely cold.

A high fever would be disastrous.

Lian Mu sighed, wondering how Yun Suiyi managed his life. He seemed to be from an entirely different world than his younger brother, Yun Zhao.

One was the innocent, simple, and naive second young master of the Yun family, and the other was the cold, ruthless, and frequently injured eldest young master of the Yun family. He couldn’t fathom how the Yun family had raised two such drastically different brothers.