Suo Qingjun Chapter 5
byMad Strings Draw Blood, Cold Peaks Stir the Heart to Return
Jin Xianling’s staggering figure disappeared into the Gusu night, but his mad laughter lingered like a ghost over the courtyard, refusing to dissipate for a long time. Tang Yuwei, still shaken, gripped her poison needles so hard they nearly pierced her palm. “Master Qing Feng’an, I fear he will not let this go after leaving like this.”
Qing Feng’an sheathed his sword. The cold light of Light Chaser reflected in his somber eyes, which were no longer calm but swirling with complex emotions—regret for misjudging someone, sorrow for a mad obsession, and an indescribable weight. “His obsession is deep. If he cannot wake up, he will eventually suffer the consequences,” he said plainly, though his exhaustion was hard to hide. “Miss Tang, you were startled. Tonight’s events were due to my lack of discipline.”
“You need not blame yourself, Master.” Tang Yuwei shook her head, feeling a chill down her spine as she remembered Jin Xianling’s distorted eyes. “No one expected that beneath his gentle appearance lay such madness. However… the words he said before leaving were likely no joke. You must be careful in the future.”
Qing Feng’an nodded, his mind made up. This journey down the mountain, sparked by the pressure to marry, was meant to find insight into swordsmanship. He hadn’t expected to be entangled in such obsessive conflicts. Jin Xianling’s madness, Murong Xue’s misunderstanding, and Tang Yuwei’s danger—each event made him realize that tempering the heart in the mortal world was far more elusive than the moves in a sword manual.
The next morning, Qing Feng’an bid farewell to Tang Yuwei, intending to leave Gusu. He knew Jin Xianling would not stop here; staying in the city would only involve others. After this ordeal, he had no heart for further travel and only wanted to find a quiet place to organize his thoughts and guard against Jin Xianling’s retaliation.
Tang Yuwei saw his mind was set and did not try to keep him. She gifted him a bottle of Tang Clan’s secret Detoxification Pills. “If you encounter danger, these may be useful. Jin Xianling’s mind is gone; he will act without restraint. Please take care.”
Qing Feng’an took the bottle, thanked her briefly, and turned to begin his return journey. However, he did not go directly back to Qihe Peak. Instead, he detoured to a Nameless Peak on the edge of the Cangwu Mountain range—a place shrouded in mist and isolated from the world, perfect for quiet cultivation and observing the movements of the martial world.
On the Nameless Peak, Qing Feng’an spent his days practicing his sword and sitting in silent meditation. The sword light of the Seven Styles of Cloud Flow drifted through the mist, but it could never disperse the image of Jin Xianling’s mad eyes. He did not understand how a master-disciple bond could breed such obsessive possessiveness, nor why his single-minded pursuit of the sword would lead to such romantic entanglements.
One day, while practicing on the summit, Qing Feng’an heard the sound of galloping horses and the clashing of weapons from below. Frowning, he flickered toward a hidden spot on the mountainside. He saw a group of men in black besieging several disciples of the Xuanqing Sword Sect. The leader was dressed in dark robes, his face haggard but his eyes still mad—it was Jin Xianling, who had been missing for days!
“Jin Xianling, you betrayed the sect and dared to collude with the remnants of the Demonic Cult to harm your fellow disciples!” the eldest senior brother of the Xuanqing Sword Sect shouted, pointing his sword at Jin Xianling.
Jin Xianling sneered. At some point, he had switched to a poison-coated longsword. His movements were vicious, each strike lethal. “Fellow disciples? I ceased to be a disciple of the Xuanqing Sword Sect long ago! I came today for one thing—to take my Master back!” His gaze swept the battlefield as if searching for Qing Feng’an, his eyes full of obsessive longing. “Qing Feng’an, I know you are here! Come out! If you come with me, I will let these people go!”
Qing Feng’an’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected Jin Xianling to collude with the Demonic Cult, let alone use the lives of his fellow disciples as leverage. These disciples were the sect’s rising stars, likely sent by the elders to bring him back.
“Jin Xianling, wake up!” Qing Feng’an’s figure flashed as he landed in the center of the battlefield. Light Chaser unsheathed, its cold light forcing the surrounding men in black back. “You have colluded with the Demonic Cult and harmed your fellow disciples. You have already committed a grave error. If you remain obsessed, only death awaits!”
Seeing Qing Feng’an, Jin Xianling’s eyes instantly erupted with brilliant light. Mad obsession overrode all reason. “Master! You are finally willing to see me! I knew you still had me in your heart!” Ignoring the slaughter around him, he walked toward Qing Feng’an step by step. “Come with me, Master! We will find a place where no one else exists. Just the two of us. I will practice the sword with you and meditate with you. No one will ever disturb us again!”
“You have fallen too deep into madness,” Qing Feng’an said coldly, his sword pointing at Jin Xianling. “These disciples are innocent. Let them go.”
“Let them go?” Jin Xianling laughed maniacally as if he had heard a joke. “Unless you come with me! Master, why do you not understand my feelings for you? For you, I can give up everything, even fall into the demonic path! As long as I can stay by your side, I am willing to do anything!”
He suddenly pointed his sword at an injured Xuanqing Sword Sect disciple, the tip resting against the disciple’s throat. “Master, I will count to three. If you still do not agree, I will kill him! One—two—”
“Stop!” Qing Feng’an’s brow furrowed, his heart filled with both anger and pain. He hadn’t expected Jin Xianling to become so depraved.
Just as Jin Xianling was about to reach three, the cry of a crane echoed from the sky. Three white-robed figures swept onto the peak like a clear breeze—it was the three elders of the Xuanqing Sword Sect!
“Jin Xianling, you wretch!” Perfected Xuanji shouted. With a wave of his whisk, several streaks of True Qi shot toward Jin Xianling, forcing him to withdraw his sword to defend himself.
The three elders landed beside Qing Feng’an. Perfected Xuanyue’s voice was like a booming bell. “Qing Feng’an, do you know your crimes? Taking a disciple without permission, allowing a disciple to defect, colluding with the Demonic Cult, and harming fellow disciples! If we hadn’t received Miss Tang’s message and arrived in time, the consequences would have been unthinkable!”
Qing Feng’an bowed. “I misjudged him and caused a great error. I am willing to accept the elders’ punishment.”
“Now is not the time for that!” Perfected Xuansu sighed, her gaze falling on Jin Xianling. “This wretch has fallen into madness. He must be eliminated today to prevent future troubles!”
Jin Xianling looked at the three elders who had suddenly appeared, then at Qing Feng’an. His eyes were full of despair and malice. “It’s you! You forced me! If you hadn’t pressured Master to marry back then, if you hadn’t tried to separate us, how could I have ended up like this!”
He laughed wildly, his True Qi becoming chaotic, showing signs of Qi Deviation. “Since you won’t let me have a good life, then everyone shall die together!” He swung his sword in a wide arc. The toxins on the poison sword spread with the sword qi. The surrounding men in black collapsed instantly, and several Xuanqing Sword Sect disciples were accidentally struck, their faces turning black.
“Not good! His sword is highly toxic!” Perfected Xuanji’s expression changed as he quickly waved his whisk to protect everyone.
Qing Feng’an’s eyes darkened. He knew today’s matter could not be settled peacefully. Looking at Jin Xianling’s crazed state, a flash of pity crossed his heart, but it was outweighed by responsibility and resolve. “Jin Xianling, today I shall act on behalf of Heaven and clear the sect’s name!”
The light of Light Chaser surged like flowing wind and returning snow, pressing toward Jin Xianling. A flash of fear appeared in Jin Xianling’s eyes, but he refused to retreat, meeting the strike with his own sword. Their sword lights intertwined in the mist—one cold and resolute, the other mad and obsessive. Every collision brought a thunderous roar.
Although Jin Xianling’s sword style was vicious, he was ultimately no match for Qing Feng’an’s profound cultivation. After several rounds, he fell into a disadvantage. Qing Feng’an spotted a flaw and pointed Light Chaser directly at Jin Xianling’s heart. However, at the moment the tip was about to pierce through, he remembered the stubborn youth he first met and the days and nights of his dutiful service. His wrist shifted slightly, and the blade grazed Jin Xianling’s shoulder, leaving a deep wound.
“Master… in the end, you still couldn’t bear to kill me…” Jin Xianling clutched his wound, his eyes filled with mad hope.
“I do not kill you out of consideration for our past master-disciple bond,” Qing Feng’an said coldly. “But you colluded with the Demonic Cult and harmed your fellow disciples. While you may be spared from death, you cannot escape punishment.” He flicked his sword, performing Acupoint Sealing on Jin Xianling, preventing him from using True Qi.
Jin Xianling collapsed to the ground, unable to move. His eyes were full of resentment and despair. “Master… my heart for you has never changed… even if you do not acknowledge me, even if you kill me, I will only ever love you…”
The three elders stepped forward. Perfected Xuanji flicked his whisk, binding Jin Xianling. “This wretch has committed heinous crimes. He shall be taken back to Qihe Peak, have his martial arts crippled, and be imprisoned forever!”
Qing Feng’an watched as Jin Xianling was taken away, his heart filled with mixed emotions. This storm born of obsession had finally come to an end. Yet he knew that Jin Xianling’s mad eyes would be forever branded in his heart, an indelible mark.
The three elders looked at Qing Feng’an’s lonely figure with great emotion. Perfected Xuansu sighed. “Qing Feng’an, after this, you should understand that the word ’emotion’ does not only refer to romantic love. The bond between master and disciple, the bond between fellow disciples—these are all opportunities to temper the heart in the mortal world. You are dedicated to the sword, so we will no longer force you to marry. However, you cannot refuse the inheritance of the Tingtao Sword Sect.”
Qing Feng’an looked toward Qihe Peak. The mist was still swirling, ethereal like a fairyland. He said slowly, “I understand. I have benefited greatly from this experience. Tempering the heart in the mortal world is like tempering the heart with the sword. From now on, I will balance the sect’s inheritance with my cultivation, living up to the expectations of my master and the elders.”
The three elders nodded, their eyes showing relief.
A few days later, Qing Feng’an followed the three elders back to Qihe Peak. The spiritual mist of Qihe Peak still lingered, and the bells of the Xuanqing Sword Sect rang melodiously. Qing Feng’an stood by the stream, Light Chaser reflecting the sky with a cold luster. His eyes remained calm, but they held a newfound depth and warmth after experiencing the mortal world.
He knew that the highest realm of swordsmanship lay not only in the refinement of moves but also in the clarity of the heart. Jin Xianling’s madness had taught him that obsession was the greatest obstacle to cultivation, and true inheritance was not just about bloodlines but about the spirit and persistence of the Way of the Sword.
The road of the martial world is long, and the shadow of the sword follows. Qing Feng’an’s story continues. And that experience of obsession and redemption, of swordsmanship and the state of mind, would eventually become the most profound mark on his path of the sword.