IS Chapter 103

Chapter 103

The moon is almost full, and the bamboo raft gently sways on the pond, following the water’s ripples.

Ling Ye meditates upon it, with a young Ye Zhuo quietly sitting beside her.

Li Yuan has already found his spot on the osmanthus tree, watching this scene.

He sees formless spiritual energy surrounding the immortal and the little immortal lord, creating ripples that eventually sink into their bodies.

“This is the last chapter of the ‘Spirit Accumulation Art’.”

“I’ve learned it.”

“It seems there’s nothing more I can teach you. Little Zhuo, how far have you progressed with your sword techniques?”

“I’ve finished learning them.”

The little immortal lord’s tone is just like him, quiet and calm. It doesn’t feel cold, but it also lacks any extra emotion.

“You’ve learned them so quickly…” Ling Ye murmurs to herself, as if sighing, “Then your father, is he already teaching you his swordplay?”

“I’ve learned up to the twenty-third scroll.”

Ling Ye gazes at the moon, which is like a plate of ice.

Yun Xiangxi had mastered all the sword techniques of Illusion Sword Manor when he was young. Later, he created many more. These sword techniques, together with the original ones of the manor, formed the manor’s legacy.

Yun Xiangxi wasn’t one to name sword techniques. The sword techniques belonged solely to him, and others shouldn’t presumptuously name them. Furthermore, he had no intention of writing books or expounding theories.

So the scattered records of sword techniques were simply placed on the top floor of the Scripture Depository. Disciples who wanted to emulate him would go there and try to comprehend them on their own.

It was only six years ago that Yun Xiangxi spent a few months in the Scripture Depository, connecting all the sword techniques he had created into a complete system, organizing them into a catalog so that disciples could finally see the path.

Of course, the sword techniques still didn’t have names, only numbers assigned in order.

Some of them disciples could learn, some only disciples practicing the Path of Emotionlessness could understand. Others were difficult to comprehend, and many sword techniques would cause people to become consumed by their inner demons if they practiced them. After all, these were Yun Xiangxi’s sword techniques, belonging to the Number One Sword Under Heaven of all time. Not everyone could practice such swordsmanship.

Thinking of this, Ling Ye doesn’t speak for a long time.

Perhaps finally sensing the unusual silence, Yun Xiangzhuo looks at her.

“Do you want me to practice swordsmanship for you to see?”

“No need,” Ling Ye says softly, “Everything he teaches you is naturally the best.”

Otherwise, why, after more than a decade of not thinking about organizing his own swordplay, would he suddenly organize it now?

Yun Xiangxi’s sword was naturally the best as well.

“Little Zhuo,” she says to the moon, somewhat lost in thought, “What kind of person do you think your father is?”

The moonlight is like snow, and her wistful profile falls into Ye Zhuo’s eyes.

Actually, two or three years ago, she didn’t call Yun Xiangxi that way. Sometimes she would call him “Husband,” and occasionally she would say “Xiangxi.”

Later, there were only titles like “your father.”

She asks, what kind of person is Yun Xiangxi?

People in Illusion Sword Manor had also asked Yun Xiangzhuo this question. They said, Little Junior Brother, can you tell your senior brothers and sisters, what kind of person is the young manor lord?

In the many years that followed, several people asked Ye Zhuo, what kind of person is Yun Xiangxi?

In fact, this is more like a self-talk than a question that needs an answer.

Perhaps people already know that this question cannot be answered. If you ask what kind of sword Xiangxi’s sword is, people all over the world would have something to say.

In fact, Ye Zhuo knows what kind of person Yun Xiangxi is. But he never opens his mouth, and he knows that those people don’t need an answer either.

Just like now, the Yun Xiangzhuo of many years ago heard Ling Ye’s question, but he didn’t answer anything. He just felt that maybe Ling Ye had something to say.

“When I was fifteen years old, I heard many stories about him,” Ling Ye says.

“They said that he defeated the world’s number one swordsman, the Autumn Water Sword God, in three moves, that he knocked down a world-destroying demon from the rift in the boundary with one sword, and that when he first visited Upper Purity Mountain, all the swords in Upper Purity Sword Tomb sang together, wanting to recognize him as their master, startling the Grand Elder of the Sword Sect to fall from his flying sword.”

“They all said that he was like his sword, only wearing snow-white clothes, with peerless elegance, and that he had never been defeated in his life.”

“At that time, I admired him. I also wanted to learn undefeated sword techniques and become a sword immortal who could leave with a flick of my sleeves. I also read a few books on the Path of Emotionlessness.”

As she speaks, she seems to be smiling.

“When I was nineteen years old, I met him. It’s a coincidence, the first time I saw him, he saved my life. Naturally, it was he who saved me. Maybe it was all unintentional, but he was exactly the same as in the rumors. Little Zhuo, what else could I do?”

“At that time, I thought, I must marry him. He practices the Path of Emotionlessness, maybe there won’t be love, but that’s okay. If we can’t be husband and wife, we can still be Daoist companions. I thought, I can definitely do it.”

“I think I’m very good. Of course, in his eyes, it seems that there are no good qualities, but there is nothing bad either. He looks at everything the same way. But, I still think I’m very good.”

“There are so many people in this world who admire and follow him, one more me doesn’t matter. I just want him to think of me as the first person he wants to marry one day.”

She lowers her eyes and uses her hand to disturb the clear pond water: “Later, I married him. Later, he became your father.”

“Ha, so many people who study swordsmanship want to worship him as their master, so many cultivators want to have sword bones like him, want to imitate his Dao heart and path, he is Number One Under Heaven, everyone wants to see how many noses and eyes he has, but from the moment he was born, he was your father, why?” she says, “It’s all because your mother was bewitched and persevered.”

Yun Xiangzhuo tilts his head, looking at her with some confusion, not knowing what kind of answer she wants.

“Then, thank you…?” he says hesitantly.

Ling Ye’s hand feels like hitting the child. It was only because she temporarily couldn’t free her hand that she gave up.

Her hand dips into the empty water. On the water’s surface, the moonlight floats. When she raises her hand again, there is nothing in her fingers except rolling water droplets.

“But he’s like the moon in the water,” she says suddenly.

“The moon is in the water, you can see it. But when you reach out your hand, you will find that there is nothing there, nothing at all. This is him, Little Zhuo, this is your father.”

“He is the young manor lord of Illusion Sword Manor, the Number One Sword Under Heaven, the only son of his father, my husband, the eldest disciple, the senior brother, the good friend of the swordsmith, Yun Xiangxi, but for him, these have never existed.”

Ye Zhuo sees the sadness in her eyes.

“He greets your grandparents with the etiquette of a junior, he meets me every two or three months, and he answers my questions about my cultivation. That’s all. There are always many people coming and going around him, but he has never cared who these people are.”

“In fact, no one expects him to really be a manor lord, a friend, or a husband, and he only touches on them briefly. Even these are not what he wants to do, but in this world, if even this little appearance is not maintained, it will add a little trouble to his cultivation, and he doesn’t want any trouble. All his time is for his sword.”

“Little Zhuo, such a person makes me feel scared,” she says.

“And everyone else seems to only need him to stand at the highest point of swordsmanship, to tell them that there is such a realm in the world. But if you want something else, you will find that you will never get those things.”

Ye Zhuo sees tears rolling down from her eyes.

“I really wanted to take you back to the West Sea with me,” she gazes at her child sadly, “But, Little Zhuo, you are so like him.”

“You have learned the Spirit Accumulation Art very well, and you have also understood the Cave Void Heart Sutra very quickly. Your maternal grandfather likes you very much, and he wants to teach you everything about the West Sea from ancient times to the present, but we all know that you will go further in swordsmanship.”

“And Yun Xiangxi can’t do almost everything in the secular world, but for you, he is a good father.” She reaches out, and her slightly cool fingers caress Yun Xiangzhuo’s cheeks, “His sword, and you. In this world, the only two things he really cares about.”

“—Little Zhuo, what path do you want to cultivate?”

“I will learn swordsmanship,” Yun Xiangzhuo says, “I will also learn the West Sea’s Heart Sutra.”

She smiles again gently.

“Good,” she says, “You must remember the Heart Sutra. Next time, when you come to the West Sea to see me, let your maternal grandfather and grandmother teach you other things as well.”

Yun Xiangzhuo purses his lips slightly, not saying anything else. He is actually a little at a loss for such a beautiful woman who can cry and laugh.

But he will also do those things if it will make her not cry.

“It’s very late, shouldn’t you go back?” Ling Ye says.

“Yes.”

So Ling Ye pulls him up, the bamboo raft approaches the shore, and she takes Yun Xiangzhuo to jump onto the jade steps by the spirit pond. “I’ll bring you lotus flower cakes for tomorrow’s Mid-Autumn Festival banquet,” she says.

Yun Xiangzhuo responds.

“Thank you,” he says, “Mother.”

Ling Ye blinks her eyes.

Then, a smile spreads from her eyes, flying around her like a butterfly.

She picks up Yun Xiangzhuo, lifts him up, and spins him around several times, laughing.

Yun Xiangzhuo is not used to such contact, but he can try to endure it.

“You can actually call me Mother, Little Zhuo, you are so smart!” Ling Ye’s eyebrows and eyes are full of surprised smiles, and she finally puts him down.

In fact, how could a child not call his mother, it’s just that he doesn’t do it often.

Yun Xiangxi’s Path of Emotionlessness has been cultivated to a very far place, and the family ties of the mundane world are also very far away for him. Then these titles are just adding unnecessary karma. Even if Yun Xiangzhuo doesn’t call him “Father,” he won’t feel anything, and it’s the same for others.

Just like those sword techniques don’t need names, as long as they can be distinguished.

Ling Ye sends him forward a few steps, and after a few steps, she stops, watching the little man in white walking alone on the road.

“Little Zhuo,” she says suddenly.

Ye Zhuo turns around and looks at her.

She stares at him blankly, as if trying to see what her child will look like when he grows up through this face.

“Little Zhuo, sometimes I wonder what you will be like when you grow up,” she says, “Actually, it doesn’t matter what you are like, I just want you to cultivate the path in your heart.”

Ye Zhuo answers her, “I will.”

“Good,” she says softly, “It’s late, go back quickly.”

The child walks into the distance in the osmanthus forest. Ling Ye watches him until she can’t see him anymore.

Li Yuan comes down from the osmanthus tree when he leaves, following him not far or near, accompanying him through the entire fragrant immortal garden.

Such a small, beautiful, and quiet child, even in Illusion Sword Manor’s own territory, they are willing to let him walk alone at night.

I don’t know what kind of consciousness this child has, and I don’t know if he can see himself, but it doesn’t matter. Li Yuan is holding his sword, brazenly following behind.

If Yun Xiangzhuo asks who he is, he will say that I am your future enemy, and I have come here to explore your details.

This is a slightly undulating uphill road. At the turning point of the scenery, there is a bamboo pavilion with flying eaves, and wind lamps are hung on the corners of the eaves.

Yun Xiangzhuo stops not far from the pavilion.

Li Yuan follows his gaze and looks up.

—Between the pillars of the pavilion, he sees a piece of snow-white clothing.

The clothing moves slightly, and the person walks out of the pavilion slowly. Crossing the faint shadow cast by the pavilion, he stands in the moonlight, as if wind and snow are coming towards him.

Yun Xiangxi.

Li Yuan has heard many people talk about him. And the real Yun Xiangxi is indeed the way they describe him.

White clothes, cold sword, Path of Emotionlessness, Number One Under Heaven. Such a person is naturally as jade-like as stacked stones and as green as lined pines, with a handsome face that rejects people from thousands of miles away. But in fact, Ye Zhuo is not like him either.

If you have to say, there is a little similarity, but that is because they are both sword cultivators. Sword cultivators all over the world will have such a sword-like temperament.

With Yun Xiangxi standing there, the world seems to have become a lot colder. He was naturally not practicing swordsmanship in the pavilion earlier, so he was waiting for Yun Xiangzhuo.

He says, “Xiangzhuo.”

His voice is cold, but not a very cold tone. Above the glacier, the snow and the moon are very clear.

He lowers his eyes and looks at Yun Xiangzhuo, Yun Xiangzhuo walks over. He stretches out his hand, Yun Xiangzhuo raises his hand and gives it to him, Yun Xiangxi leads him and walks forward.

At this time, Li Yuan sees their clothes. They are all the same snow-white color, similar in shape, and seem to be the same in texture. It’s just that Yun Xiangxi’s is simpler, with no extra decoration at all.

From Guiyuan to Lingchi, the scenery along the way is gorgeous and beautiful, but leaving here, the sparse scenery of Illusion Sword Manor built with white stones and white jade gradually replaces them. The young Ye Zhuo is led by Yun Xiangxi like this, and the scenery in the direction they are walking becomes more and more empty and cold, filled with a faint mist.

Li Yuan is still walking behind Yun Xiangzhuo.

Suddenly, he sees the little immortal lord, who is not even half a person tall, suddenly turning his head and looking at the way he came.

Those eyes are quiet, reflecting a piece of moonlight between heaven and earth.

Maybe, he is looking at the direction of Lingchi. Maybe, he saw Li Yuan. Maybe he didn’t see anything.

Then, he and Yun Xiangxi walk into the ghostly white, cloud-like night mist.

For a moment, Li Yuan saw the sword on his waist. When he is not yet grown up, of course he has to use a lighter and more exquisite sword. The sword is just the right length and is specially made for him.

That is also a sword with a white body.

Li Yuan takes a step forward and wants to walk into the mist with him, but the mist comes towards him overwhelmingly, like a tide separating the two ends, pushing him to another place.