Suo Qingjun Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Shackles Cannot Restrain the Madman, Hidden Peril Deep Within the Clouds

Immortal-Locking Cliff on Qihe Peak stood thousands of feet high, shrouded in spiritual mist year-round. Below lay a bottomless sea of clouds. Only a narrow plank path led to the prison cells, the place where the Xuanqing Sword Sect held its most serious criminals. Jin Xianling, his martial arts stripped and his body bound by iron chains, was imprisoned in a stone chamber amidst the cliffs, guarded by disciples in shifts day and night.

Qing Feng’an had visited the cell once. The stone room was cold and damp. Jin Xianling huddled in a corner, his hair disheveled and the wound on his shoulder still unhealed. Yet, he still opened those obsessive eyes, staring fixedly at him with a bizarre smile on his lips: Master, I knew you would eventually come to see me.

Qing Feng’an’s heart stifled. He turned and left without looking back. He did not want to face those eyes that made his heart palpitate, nor did he want to remember the past wrapped in that mad obsession.

Returning to the main peak of Qihe Peak, Qing Feng’an devoted all his thoughts to the sect’s legacy. Every day, he guided disciples in sword practice, organized the Xuanqing Sword Sect’s manuals and records, and occasionally discussed the Dao of the sword with the three elders. His state of mind became increasingly clear. Only in the dead of night would the faint roars coming from the direction of Immortal-Locking Cliff make him toss and turn, unable to sleep.

On this day, a sudden torrential rain fell upon Cangwu Mountain. The wild winds howled, and the spiritual mist grew even thicker, reducing visibility to less than three feet. Due to the storm, the disciples guarding Immortal-Locking Cliff retreated into a wind-shelter pavilion beside the plank path, leaving only one person on duty outside the cell.

Amidst the curtain of rain, a dark shadow flickered like a ghost, bypassing the patrolling disciples and silently arriving outside the cell. The shadow pulled out a specially made silver needle and precisely pierced the guard’s acupoint, causing the disciple to faint instantly.

The shadow pushed open the stone door and lit a fire-starter, illuminating a face covered in scars—it was the leader of the Demonic Cult remnants Jin Xianling had previously colluded with, the Ghost-Masked Man.

Young Master Jin, I have come to rescue you. The Ghost-Masked Man’s voice was hoarse. With a swing of his sharp blade, he severed the iron chains on Jin Xianling.

Jin Xianling stood up unsteadily. Though his martial arts were gone, he still radiated a mad, malevolent aura: What took you so long?

The Xuanqing Sword Sect is heavily guarded. If not for today’s storm, I wouldn’t have been able to get close at all. The Ghost-Masked Man supported him. Young Master, let us leave quickly. Delay will bring trouble.

Jin Xianling shook his head, his gaze fixed toward the main peak of Qihe Peak. A flash of ruthlessness and obsession crossed his eyes: I’m not leaving. I haven’t taken Master away yet. How can I leave?

Young Master, you have lost all your martial arts. You are no match for Qing Feng’an! the Ghost-Masked Man urged. As long as the green mountains remain, there is no need to worry about firewood! Let us leave Cangwu Mountain first, find a place to recover your skills, and then return to settle the score with Qing Feng’an later!

Jin Xianling fell silent for a moment, the madness in his eyes gradually replaced by endurance. He knew the Ghost-Masked Man was right; currently, he didn’t even have the qualification to approach Qing Feng’an. Fine, I will go with you, he said through gritted teeth. But I will not let him go. Master is mine. No matter where he runs, I will find him!

The Ghost-Masked Man said no more. Supporting Jin Xianling and using the storm and thick mist as cover, they quickly retreated along the plank path. The disciples in the shelter did not notice anything unusual, assuming the storm had masked all sounds.

The next morning, the rain stopped and the mist cleared. When the relief guard went to the cell, they found the stone door wide open, the guard unconscious on the ground, and Jin Xianling long gone.

This is bad! Jin Xianling has escaped! The disciple’s cry echoed through Immortal-Locking Cliff and quickly spread across the entirety of Qihe Peak.

Qing Feng’an was guiding disciples in sword practice when he heard the news. The Light Chaser sword in his hand suddenly grew heavy, and its sword light stagnated. He looked up toward Immortal-Locking Cliff, his eyes turning solemn. He should have known that Jin Xianling’s madness would not be easily restrained by shackles; this escape was merely a matter of time.

Immediately send people to blockade all exits of Cangwu Mountain and strictly inspect all passersby! Perfected Xuanji was furious, waving his fly-whisk. Qing Feng, take men to track him down. You must bring this wretch to justice! He has lost his martial arts and is severely injured; he cannot have gone far!

This disciple obeys. Qing Feng’an bowed and prepared to depart.

Wait. Perfected Xuansu called out to him, her tone worried. Though Jin Xianling has no martial arts, he is malicious and has the help of Demonic Cult remnants. You must be careful. Remember, this person’s obsession is deep and he can no longer be spared. If he resists, you may kill him on the spot.

Qing Feng’an’s heart sank, and he nodded slowly. I understand.

He changed into travel attire, shouldered the Light Chaser sword, and led several elite disciples along the edge of the sea of clouds below Immortal-Locking Cliff. Along the way, they found scattered bloodstains and traces of specialized Demonic Cult smoke. Clearly, Jin Xianling’s injuries had not healed, and his flight was not going smoothly.

Tracking him to a small town at the foot of Cangwu Mountain, the bloodstains and traces suddenly vanished. Qing Feng’an sent men to investigate and learned that after the storm yesterday, a ghost-masked man supporting an injured youth had left the town in a carriage, heading west.

To the west lies Black Wind Ridge, where the Demonic Cult remnants are entrenched, a disciple said grimly. They must have gone to Black Wind Ridge.

Qing Feng’an’s expression grew serious. Black Wind Ridge was treacherous terrain filled with miasma. The Demonic Cult remnants had operated there for many years and held great power. For Jin Xianling to escape there was like a fish returning to water.

Prepare enough rations and Detoxification Pills. We depart for Black Wind Ridge immediately. Qing Feng’an made a prompt decision. He knew that if Jin Xianling were allowed to recover his strength at Black Wind Ridge, he would surely stir up an even greater storm of blood in the future. Not only the Xuanqing Sword Sect, but the entire martial world would know no peace.

The group traveled day and night toward Black Wind Ridge. Along the way, they were occasionally blocked by Demonic Cult patrols, all of whom were slain by Qing Feng’an’s exquisite sword techniques. The closer they got to Black Wind Ridge, the thicker the miasma in the air became, and the eerie sound of horns could be heard echoing from the mountains.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Black Wind Ridge, it was already late. Qing Feng’an ordered his disciples to rest in a hidden cave while he went ahead to scout alone. Using the Cloud-Treading Steps, his figure moved through the forest like a breeze, bypassing the Demonic Cult’s sentries and quietly approaching the main peak of Black Wind Ridge.

Atop the main peak, a dilapidated castle stood in the night, brightly lit. Qing Feng’an hid behind a large tree and looked through a window. He saw Jin Xianling sitting in the hall with the Ghost-Masked Man standing aside, while several Demonic Cult physicians were treating his wounds.

Young Master, Qing Feng’an and his men have already tracked us to the outskirts of Black Wind Ridge. What should we do? the Ghost-Masked Man asked.

A mad smile curled on Jin Xianling’s lips, his eyes flashing with a sinister light. He really came. I knew Master still had me in his heart. He raised a hand to touch the wound on his shoulder. Qing Feng’an, did you think that by crippling my martial arts, you could trap me? You were wrong. As long as I can stay by your side, I will pay any price, even if it means making the entire martial world my enemy!

He looked at the Ghost-Masked Man, his tone cold. Pass down my order: activate the Miasma Array of Black Wind Ridge. Make sure Qing Feng’an never returns. Furthermore, send a message to the Xuanqing Sword Sect saying I am waiting for him at Black Wind Ridge. If he does not come, I will wash the Xuanqing Sword Sect in blood and make him live in regret forever!

Yes, Young Master. The Ghost-Masked Man bowed and left.

Hiding in the shadows, Qing Feng’an felt a chill in his heart upon hearing Jin Xianling’s words. He hadn’t expected Jin Xianling’s madness to reach such a level—that he would not hesitate to slaughter the Xuanqing Sword Sect just to force him to appear.

He quietly retreated to the cave and informed his disciples of what he had seen. Jin Xianling has activated the Miasma Array. Black Wind Ridge is filled with miasma; entering blindly would be certain death, Qing Feng’an said gravely. We will rest here for now and wait for the miasma to dissipate before making a plan. Meanwhile, send someone back to Qihe Peak immediately to inform the elders of the situation at Black Wind Ridge so they can strengthen the sect’s defenses against a sneak attack.

The disciples took their orders and left. Qing Feng’an sat in the cave, looking out at the pitch-black night, the cold gleam of the Light Chaser sword flickering in the darkness. He knew that this entanglement with Jin Xianling could not end peacefully. Either Jin Xianling would be thoroughly eliminated, or he would be dragged into the abyss by this mad obsession.

The miasma at Black Wind Ridge grew thicker, like an invisible barrier separating the main peak from the outside world. The lights in the castle remained bright. Jin Xianling stood by the window, looking toward the outskirts of Black Wind Ridge, his eyes full of obsessive anticipation.

Master, I am waiting for you at Black Wind Ridge, he murmured to himself, his voice soft yet carrying a heart-palpitating madness. This time, I won’t let you leave me again. We will be together forever, even if it is in hell.

Qing Feng’an gripped the Light Chaser sword, his fingertips turning slightly white. He knew that an ultimate confrontation concerning life and death, obsession and redemption, had quietly begun at Black Wind Ridge. The grievances between him and Jin Xianling would finally come to an end in these miasma-filled mountains—regardless of whether that end was a resolution or a tragedy.