“...”
Half a day later.
After walking out of the remote, rocky hills and following the winding mountain path eastward for some time, Su Yueli looked up, and the gates of the Cangyun Sect came into view.
Over a hundred years ago, this place had been the absolute hegemon for tens of thousands of miles around. The main peak pierced the clouds, surrounded by eighteen secondary peaks, radiating brilliant immortal light.
Now, however, the main peak—most of which had been sheared off—was only dotted with a few crude pavilions and halls. The runic light of the sect-protecting array was incredibly dim.
The sect's territory had shrunk by more than half, and even the disciples flying to and fro on their swords seemed sparse and pathetic.
It appeared the wounds inflicted during that battle a century ago had still not healed.
In a small town at the foot of the mountain, a restaurant's sign swayed in the wind.
This time, Su Yueli did not wear her white mask with blood-red patterns.
She had washed away all pretension, wearing a simple blue and white long dress. Her features were as clear and beautiful as of old, and her expression was cold and serene.
Entering the restaurant, she took a seat in a corner by a window on the second floor. She ordered two ordinary, mortal stir-fried dishes and a flask of shaojiu.
Raising her cup, Su Yueli took a small sip. Her brow furrowed slightly as a burning, throat-stinging sensation washed over her tongue.
Even after living for hundreds of years, she still could not get used to this kind of strong liquor.
She had disliked it back when she was a mortal, and now, even with a physical body that could sweep through the Thirteenth Realm, she still found the burning sensation uncomfortable as the alcohol went down.
Except for those rare moments when her mood was at its absolute worst and she wanted to drown her sorrows, she rarely drank. Even a sip or two normally made her uncomfortable.
She set down her cup, picked up her bamboo chopsticks, and chewed on a piece of stir-fried meat while listening to the voices around her.
At the neighboring table sat several young rogue cultivators with long swords strapped to their backs, enthusiastically discussing the latest news of the cultivation world.
Su Yueli turned her head and broke through the noisy chatter of their table. “Fellow Daoists, excuse me. I noticed that the Cangyun Sect up ahead seems rather desolate. How did such a prestigious, grand sect end up in this state?”
A round-faced young cultivator at the next table turned around and sized her up.
Seeing that although she had no spiritual energy fluctuations, her appearance was exceptionally striking, he lowered his guard and laughed.
“You must be from out of town, young lady. The Cangyun Sect is hardly a prestigious sect anymore. At most, it's just an ordinary, second-rate immortal sect!”
“Oh? I would like to hear the details.” Su Yueli's eyes remained calm as she took another small sip of the throat-burning liquor.
The round-faced cultivator grew excited and slapped the table. “Then you've asked the right person! Over a hundred years ago, the Cangyun Sect suffered terribly. The cultivation world calls it the Great Cangyun Disaster!”
“That battle was an unprecedented, bizarre event. I heard a masked Thirteenth Realm Ji Dao lunatic appeared out of nowhere and literally tore through the Cangyun Sect's main peak!”
“The grand array was shattered with a single punch. The former sect master, the old sect master, the Young Sect Master, and even the ancestor were all beaten to pieces. Some died, some went missing, some were severely injured, and many elders perished as well. The entire main peak was leveled to the ground!”
The round-faced cultivator grew more and more excited as he spoke, gesturing wildly as if he had witnessed it with his own eyes.
Hearing him describe how she had shattered the sect gates with a single punch back then, Su Yueli's heart remained completely untroubled. She even picked up a piece of tofu and put it in her mouth.
“What about the Cangyun Sect's ancestor?”
Su Yueli's hand paused slightly as she picked up another piece of food, and she asked softly, “As such a grand sect, is there no senior left to watch over it?”
“Of course there is! How could there not be?” The round-faced cultivator lowered his voice, speaking conspiratorially. “That ancestor actually unleashed the sect's protecting immortal artifact back then! But the result? That masked lunatic was a ruthless character. They directly self-detonated half their Martial Soul and burned a full five hundred years of their lifespan to land a punch that sent the ancestor flying hundreds of feet, coughing up blood!”
“After that battle, the Cangyun Sect's vitality was completely depleted. Dragging his severely injured body and with his immortal mirror cracked, the ancestor returned to the mountain, sealed the founder's cave dwelling, and went into forced seclusion.”
“Now, over a hundred years have passed, and no one knows if that ancestor is dead or alive. Some say he died of his injuries long ago and has turned to bones, while others say he is barely hanging on. Regardless, the Cangyun Sect has plummeted since then, falling to its current state.”
Su Yueli listened quietly, calculating in her mind.
The near-destruction of the Cangyun Sect back then was purely due to personal vendettas. The ancestor stepping in to protect his sect made logical sense.
But understanding his actions did not mean she would let him off.
The grudge from that mirror strike and the karma tied to the ancestor had to be settled.
If the old fellow had indeed died of his injuries in his cave, he was lucky. But if he still had a breath left... she would personally send him on his way.
“Thank you for clearing my doubts, Fellow Daoist.”
The men waved their hands. “Don't mention it, don't mention it!”
“It's just that no one knows who that person actually was. To think they could break through the barriers of a martial artist, reach the Thirteenth Realm, and live for so long!”
“Yeah, maybe they hold the secret to immortality!”
Su Yueli had no reaction to their words. She casually left two silver ingots on the table, stood up, and walked out of the restaurant.
The streets were bustling with traffic. The cries of street vendors and the rumbling of carriages over the bluestone pavement echoed endlessly.
A few children holding candied haws ran past, laughing and playing, their joyful voices piercing through the cold wind.
Standing on the street, Su Yueli looked at the bustling mortal world before her, momentarily falling into a daze.
She had sat in seclusion for a hundred years and achieved physical sainthood, yet walking through this mortal world and watching these ordinary people—who could only live for a few decades but lived with such vibrant warmth—she felt an indescribable sense of comfort.
The mundane warmth of the mortal world was indeed quite wonderful.
The daze was fleeting.
Su Yueli gently brushed the dust off her long dress, her eyes returning to their calm, unruffled state.
She withdrew her thoughts and walked toward the main peak of the Cangyun Sect.
Today, this matter would be resolved once and for all.
She would find the ancestor, confirm whether he was dead or alive, and shatter this final thread of karma with a single punch.
From then on, the rise and fall of the Cangyun Sect would have absolutely nothing to do with her.
Karma would be completely severed.
Half an hour later, in front of the Cangyun Sect's gates.
The current mountain patrol disciples were incredibly lax. A few scattered Qi Refining stage disciples yawned near the gates.
Su Yueli walked past the gates, not even bothering to conceal her figure.
Strolling casually along the way, she avoided any pointless killing.
After hundreds of years of fighting and killing in the cultivation world, she had no intention of involving the low-level, ordinary disciples who had no idea what had happened back then.
She was tired, and there was no need.
Before long, she slipped onto the current main peak of the Cangyun Sect.
The main peak was where the inner sect elites and the personal disciples of the various elders gathered. The people here naturally knew much more about the secrets of the sect's upper echelons.
Near the corner of a side hall adorned with carved beams and painted rafters, Su Yueli leaned against a red lacquered wooden pillar.
As the morning wind blew through the corridor, the sound of footsteps echoed from afar.
Su Yueli turned her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over.
A young male cultivator dressed in a blue brocade robe was walking quickly toward her, holding a jade slip in his hand, his face filled with arrogance.
Most noticeably, a token made entirely of pure gold hung from his waist, clearly engraved with the patterns of a Cangyun Sect personal disciple.
This was a status symbol exclusive to the personal disciples of elders.
Su Yueli's eyes narrowed slightly. “You'll do...”
Rate on N.U.
