Chapter 96

Chapter 96

If you slumbered for a thousand years yet awoke abruptly to find yourself tossed anew into a forge, the swordsmith rashly bestowing a new name, carving recklessly upon your form and clutching you adoringly night and day, even waking you with his heart’s blood…

What would you do?

A millennium of cycles had passed. More than old haunts fading, histories of how the Yushui River flowed incessant, cleaving mountains to form rivers, passed down through generations. Yet the Admonitory Sword itself was already overgrown with rust.

No matter how precious the meteorite iron, no matter how meticulously forged, even if crafted by the legendary “divine immortals” themselves, once it lost its spiritual essence and divine protection, sinking into the depths of the pool beneath Tianyu Mountain and lying buried for many days, it could only meet the same end as common metal.

Just like a human life, the deeper it sinks, wrapped in the silt of the pond bottom, that day becomes the day the eyes close forever, the body perishes both physically and spiritually, and all those pages of glorious deeds can only turn into idle after-dinner talk, dissolving into the vast, flowing river of history along with the waves of the Yushui River lapping against its banks.

The one who knew him was gone. He was no longer the famed Admonitory Sword known to all. Not even the legends of the Sword Sect within Tianyu Mountain preserved his name anymore. Handed down through generations, Tianyu Mountain, originally inheriting the legacy of the Sword Saint, known as the guardian of the Admonitory Sword, forbidden to leave the mountain, an independent school unto itself—now, not a soul recognized the name of that Sword Saint.

This tiny character “admonition”, whether carved on a stone statue or etched into his very flesh, was so easily erased by time, hard to discern any longer.

And precisely because of this, there came his awakening, reforming his shape through a pact sealed in blood, and this strange, fascinating journey.

He said Chen Shu did not belong to this world; how much more did he himself?

The colossal, neglected statue on Mijiang Slope, the figure slipping deep into the county jail cells amidst the raging floods, and this single sheet of a map, a night of battle-torn skies.

It was never Chen Shu who sought him; it was he who, waiting for a millennium, finally awaited the hands that lifted him from the mountain, awaited such an earnest and cheerful traveling companion.

It was he who, circuitous as the path had been, returned once more to Chen Shu’s side.

If it weren’t for such a fervent, upright Chen Shu, why would he have turned back time and again, carefully laying out the pieces? If it weren’t for such a pure, selfless Chen Shu, why would he find himself unable to harden his heart, unable to bear leaving her behind?

If the world offered you a single grain, a single thread, you might easily dismiss it. But what if she offered you her bare, unguarded heart to see? How could one pretend ignorance and turn away?

Not even the frostiest of steel could compare to that one burning droplet of blood forged from scorching iron.

He thought that leaving Chen Shu that fine sword, so perfect it could deceive the eyes, ought to have been a fitting completion of the bond between them. This journey to Mijiang Slope had ended not only a past shared with an old friend, but also a bond with Chen Shu born of happenstance and fate.

But this plunge was nothing like he expected, nothing like the carefree flight departing Tianyu Mountain back then.

Now, tilting his head back, gazing at the cliff edge from which he’d fallen, the sky had fully awakened, bright as if freshly washed. The cliffs, shades of grey-black and crimson-red, sped rapidly away into the distance, fading into the hazy mist as they met the skyline at the horizon.

But that increasingly indistinct cliff seemed to hold something more within it. When the mountain wind scraped at his cheeks, whipping the tangled hair away from his eyes, and he strained to lift his gaze towards the cliff edge that threatened to vanish from sight, the murky dot obscured by the misty hues grew larger and larger. It spread across the sky like an ink stain, yet bore none of the blur of a water smudge.

He could discern that murky dot.

In that instant, the dot burst from the cliff edge, pierced the heavy fog, and he finally recognized those familiar features, carved almost into his very mind. Or perhaps he had known it all along, only shrinking deeper into the shell of this borrowed form—

Until this moment. Yun Shen could almost see the fog-choked heavens above crack apart, piece by piece, shaken by Chen Shu’s passionate, utterly unreserved momentum. Instantly, patterns – whether shadows of cloud and mist or cracks in a heartrending fissure – rapidly spread across the entire sky.

No, it was that which belonged to Chen Shu inside him.

It was his searing blood, it was his eyes, it was his entire visible world.

He was the Admonitory Sword… he was also Han Guang.

‘Admonition’ – words of warning. His old friend who gave him this name never spoke of expectations; he simply spun out the alias ‘Yun Shen’ in response to Chen Shu’s question, casually offering a name by which to be called: ‘Yun’ for words, ‘Shen’ for vigilance.

Even he himself had never deeply considered the meaning held in that name.

Life pressed forward, fleeting. But for the first time, there was someone who would flip through ancient texts until worn thin, clutching tangled hair beneath the faint, star-studded night canopy, inking the coarse characters for two words onto a page. This was something Chen Shu would do, and something only Chen Shu would do.

A sword’s name often served as a reminder to its wielder, a mark in history, or to blaze a reputation; to put it crudely, even to fetch a better price when resold.

Only Chen Shu would do this, as if sincerely bestowing a name upon a person, a living being, pouring forth feelings saturated with expectation and tenderness that could melt everything—

Just like now, as she plunged unhesitatingly from the cliff.

She of course was no ordinary mortal. Leaping from even a higher precipice, she’d land unscathed, for the mountain was her mother, the wind her servant, and the perpetually lingering mist embraced, caressed, and shielded her.

But rescuing someone falling from a cliff was entirely different.

No matter how potent her powers, they did not spring from nothingness. They couldn’t raise the dead nor regenerate bone, nor could they save someone from such a lethal plunge.

Starting her jump a split second after him, even with reflexes so keen, movements so swift, an almost impossible chasm remained between them. What filled this gap seemed barely there—a little mountain mist, a touch of vapor. But to breach that distance, as Chen Shu now streaked desperately toward him, drawing nearer, faster than – like molten iron – it demanded exhausting every shred of her energy, and braving a courage that risked her very life, to cleave through the very mountain wind and dawn fog meant to protect her.

Chen Shu’s face drew closer.

That brief instant seemed stretched impossibly long by their downward momentum. Just as the cliff face had seemed minuscule moments before, Chen Shu’s composed demeanor now stood out with crystal clarity, lingering in Yun Shen’s vision like slow-moving clouds gradually veiling his sight. He saw clearly the hair ribbon whipped off by the wind, the sword tassel flying from her waist, fluttering alongside her, even the frayed end where Zou Dai’s slash had clipped it.

Everything moved with such lethargy, except for the cliff receding at breakneck speed. Yun Shen kept his eyes open, watching Chen Shu rush towards him without blinking, until she herself blinked, clenched her teeth, surged forward another measure, finally near enough to stretch out her hand and shout something at him—

“Catch me!”

Yun Shen didn’t reply, but his hand instinctively reached towards Chen Shu. He thought, he’d find it hard to forget this sight.

Chen Shu seized his hand firmly. Her fingers bore the coarse calluses of sword practice, not entirely soft, yet radiating a solid, unwavering warmth.

With one sharp tug on Yun Shen’s hand, she arrested his plunging momentum!

Their positions reversed in an instant. Using her slight frame, she practically enveloped Yun Shen. Swinging her other arm wide, she took a deep breath, wrapped it tightly around Yun Shen’s chest. Her voice, vibrating through the howling wind, reached him:

“Close your eyes. Don’t be scared.”

Yun Shen wasn’t afraid. He was the instigator of this ordeal, the hypocrite who had exhausted every resource scheming for his own ends.

He had engineered the Valley of Villains’ downfall merely to pacify both shores of the Yushui River, deceiving his companions along the way: false identity, false intentions, even cultivating fabricated affection—all driven by pure self-interest, a craving for absolute freedom.

However brief this reversal felt, even if stretched to an eternity, the sky before Yun Shen swiftly transformed into the menacing, looming woods below, jagged peaks like bared fangs drawing terrifyingly close.

Sunlight couldn’t pierce the thick mountain fog, much less brighten these dense woods. As the wind whipped past, he saw how the primal green deepened into an ink-black, almost hungry hue, seeming to devour anything that entered.

Shadows as dense and overwhelming as the mountains themselves pressed down within the forest, thicker than any night.

For a sword, falling from any height was inconsequential—whether into the ocean, a parched canyon, or the deep pool on Tianyu Mountain. By nature hard and sharp, a sword could cut flesh; naturally, it was unscathed by such forces.

But Chen Shu might not be. This deep wilderness, fraught with hazards, turned every towering tree into its spikes and jagged teeth. No matter her prodigious talent or exquisite martial skill, she had already expended overwhelming magic rescuing Yun Shen. To collide face-first with this savage forest headlong—

Now, Yun Shen found it hard to claim he wasn’t afraid.

His own cold iron weapon stirred with foreign sensations, surging within him. At last, that final boundary was breached, stitching his core together. Only then did this vessel truly feel the distinct, deliberate beat of a living heart.

Yet he could do nothing. He was merely Chen Shu’s sword, a piece of common iron that only lived when held in her grasp.

The mountains allowed no hesitation; they plunged straight down to the valley floor.

This was another valley, utterly unlike the Valley of Villains. Far from flat, it resembled a rugged pathway more than a “valley.” The terrain was treacherous. Yun Shen instinctively closed his eyes—perhaps why the wind seemed to quieten, and even the dampness in the air felt gentler. Then came Chen Shu’s muffled grunt. Her grip on him slackened briefly before she was wrenched away. He spun in mid-air, struck the ground, rolled several times, finally slamming into—

A jagged ore protruding from the hill’s flank.

Yun Shen emerged unscathed. He leaped upright, scrambled up the slope, and rounded two large trees. Behind a boulder, near the cliff’s edge about three to four people’s height above the ground, he saw Chen Shu. Suspended aloft by a Crooked-Neck Tree sprouting from the valley. Its thick branches, tangled firmly in her robe, held her captive. She’d given up struggling, puffing out her cheeks, raging at the dead tree.

“…What good is growing here?!” she fumed. “I was just rescuing someone! And you, you… this utterly useless Crooked-Neck Tree! Absolute nuisance! May you rot right where you are on this rock! May the sun never find you! I really am—”

Yun Shen’s steps paused. A smile finally returned to his lips.

Just then, he seemed to recall a pause for caution himself. Glancing down at his own unharmed body, he pondered briefly. Casually, he picked up two stones, tore his robe, scratched deliberate white lines onto his arm, and smudged dirt onto his face.

Still unsatisfied, he glanced around, lifting then lowering his foot. Finding the missing piece he sought, he cast a satisfied glance upwards—

Yun Shen coughed deliberately. Just as Chen Shu’s furious tirade abruptly ceased in the distance—signaling she’d spotted him—he began his halting limp towards the Crooked-Neck Tree.

“Aiya! Eh heh!” Chen Shu’s gaze found him. Having surely assumed he was dead or crippled, she now blinked in shock at his apparent wholeness. Emotion choked her words momentarily. She chirped with animal-like delight, tugging futilely against the branches. Though trapped, sheer joy lit her face as she contorted dangerously towards him. “…You’re not dead!”

“What do you mean, ‘not dead’?” Yun Shen asked lightly, tilting his head upward against the canopy’s shadows. “That again? Last time as well… Are you actually hoping I’d be?”

“I said no such thing…” Chen Shu started, trying to lean down for a better look. The Crooked-Neck Tree’s grip thwarted her. Fresh rage surged. She jerked away from Yun Shen to spit viciously at the tree, seemingly ready to unleash another torrent.

Yun Shen deftly cut in, raising his voice, “Don’t rush! I see from here below. It’s just your collar’s caught. Several branches snagged it from below on the way down, and your belt too. Here, find a sturdy branch above you. Use it to push yourself free. Push upwards and try to jump…”

“Limping around yet still making so much trouble!” Chen Shu let out a huff through her nose, muttering under her breath.

Perhaps she had been irritated all along. Ever since waking at dawn, she had first spent hours warily hiding under rooftops, then busied herself chasing after “Guardian Guo,” sprinting headlong. Following that, she faced Wei Mian in a situation that grew increasingly perilous, demanding constant vigilance. And now, finally reunited with Yun Shen after days apart, despite all her efforts and her belief that she had covered every contingency, she ended up in this ludicrous, almost laughable predicament. Unwanted frustration welled up within her, feeding her anger until it boiled over.

As soon as the words left her lips, not waiting for Yun Shen to attempt any words of comfort, rage surged through her heart. In one swift motion, she raised her hand high and then brought it down viciously, chopping at the tree branch that had snagged her clothes. She forcefully severed the old tree clean at its fork, sending herself tumbling down the cliff face along with a cascade of splintered limbs and twigs!

The slash released her pent-up fury, but it truly gave Yun Shen a fright. Ignoring his “lame” foot entirely, he scrambled forward several steps, arms outstretched to catch her. But what was a mere scholar in plain white robes, augmented only by a sliver of divine sword’s awareness and transformative power, to do against the sudden plummeting form of Chen Shu?

Chen Shu herself, however, fueled by her angry chop, used the recoil to her advantage. In that brief moment of suspension, she reacted swiftly, snatching at a branch as she fell. This branch was a substantial main limb, the longest among the descending wreckage, easily half her height in length. Gripping it with one hand, she then thrust it hard against the cliff wall.

At first, the branch merely scraped a shallow white mark onto the stone. Yet, as she pressed harder and harder, its tip miraculously bit into the solid rock!

In the blink of an eye, before Yun Shen could even process what was happening, Chen Shu yelled another command: “Move!” The fissure the branch had rent in the rock deepened dramatically, tearing all the way down to the valley floor. Then came a sharp, distinct “crack!”

Caught between Chen Shu’s immense force and the unyielding stone, the branch—material meant for far less demanding feats than those steel could endure—finally snapped in mid-air! By now, however, Chen Shu’s descent had significantly slowed. She released her grip, dropped lightly onto the valley floor, took two steps backward with the momentum, trying to steady herself—

And slammed headfirst squarely into the chest of an utterly unprepared Yun Shen.

How could Yun Shen withstand such an impact? He let out a harsh sound, like bones grating together. Reacting instinctively, he only thought to wrap his arms around Chen Shu, trying to halt her momentum.

Neither firm on his feet, with Chen Shu’s face still buried against him—perhaps too embarrassed, or maybe feeling a pang of contrition, wanting to clarify things first—she spoke in a muffled voice:

“—Told you to move!”

Yun Shen had also tumbled quite a distance upon hitting the valley floor; earthy fragrance clung to him. After speaking, Chen Shu took a loud sniff, perhaps inhaling the scent of some nearby plants. For a long moment, she clung to him dumbly, arms wrapped around his waist. Only when Yun Shen suddenly came to his senses and reached to pull her hands away did she snap out of it too, abruptly withdrawing.

Their eyes met, then both swiftly darted away. Chen Shu busied herself uselessly slapping dust from her clothes. Yun Shen looked back at the broken branch embedded on the cliff face, then at Chen Shu’s lowered head, suddenly recalling her earlier accusation.

He hadn’t answered yet.

“Well, I wasn’t about to abandon you, was I?” he said, a smile returning to his face. This time, though, it was an involuntary, gentle curve of his lips that vanished just as instinctively when Chen Shu lifted her gaze to meet his. “Honestly, what possessed you?” he added, gesturing vaguely towards the cliff. “You’re an odd one—why torment an old tree like that?”

“It was blocking me!” Chen Shu declared with unshakeable conviction. “It… it was being disgraceful! Shaming itself in its old age!”

Yun Shen choked back a surprised laugh. Reunited after so long, especially under these circumstances, arguing felt pointless. He yielded. “Fine, fine, fine! It started the trouble. Though, that tree really only caught your robe. In a way, it broke your fall—stopped you from dropping straight down onto the rocks. If you’d just wanted to get down, even impatiently, you could simply have ripped the robe off. That way you’d have drifted down nicely, all slow and saf—”

His reasoning trailed off mid-sentence, any further words utterly failing him.

For Chen Shu, ignoring him entirely, had risen onto her tiptoes. She cupped Yun Shen’s face firmly in both her hands. “But I thought you—” she started.

She had interrupted Yun Shen, and now she herself couldn’t finish. In her wide, dark eyes—like liquid beads—crystalline tears welled up slowly, gathering volume until they overflowed, spilled down her cheeks, and landed with a tiny splash precisely on the back of Yun Shen’s hand, the one he had lifted to steady her.

It left a faint red mark where they fell, stark against the skin Yun Shen had only just bruised moments before.

Yun Shen’s breath hitched. He swallowed imperceptibly, let out a carefully measured exhale, and consciously softened his expression. The mask of his customary, practiced smile slipped back into place. “…Thought what? And you still claim you didn’t think I was about to die?”

He kept one arm loosely encircling her and continued to speak, hoping his light tone would set her at ease. As he talked, he gently lowered the hand resting against her back, intending to softly pry her hands away from his cheeks. But the moment he moved, his gaze flickered downwards.

Catching the edge of his vision, an unmistakably harsh sight stabbed into focus: the side of Chen Shu’s right palm.

Along the flesh beneath her little finger stretched a raw, livid patch of reddened skin, studded with minute gashes like scattered stars. Embedded within the angry marks were two or three tiny, vicious-looking wooden splinters.

Unmistakably, wounds sustained from her earlier violent strike against the tree.

Yun Shen froze. All inclination towards teasing vanished instantly. With brisk efficiency, he enveloped her hand completely within his own and lifted it up for close inspection.

Thankfully, the injury was fresh, and Yun Shen had witnessed the exact moment it happened. Confirming it was only superficial, he swiftly plucked out the embedded splinters. When he looked up again, he found Chen Shu staring fixedly at him.

Her eyes were wide open. It seemed she had been watching him openly the entire time, observing every nuance of his focused attention on her wound. Most people, subjected to such intimate care, especially after the shock of near-death and being held, would react with either bashful reserve or open-hearted joy. Chen Shu’s reaction, however, was distinctly peculiar.

In those vast, round orbs—still shimmering with unshed tears, opened almost unnervingly wide—there was only pure, unadulterated fascination written plain upon them.

It was as if being wounded was a rarity for her. The very experience of having someone meticulously examine a minor scratch, casually removing a splinter—it felt like an entirely novel event. To her, it held the vibrant allure of uncharted territory.

Yun Shen halted reflexively, his expression a mixture of annoyance and amusement as he asked, “Why are you staring at me? Don’t you realize you’re injured?”

Unabashed, Chen Shu stuck out her tongue and said, “It doesn’t hurt, so who cares about that? My magical power is just temporarily depleted. Otherwise, not even half that tree would have remained! Give me ten days or half a month to recuperate, and you’ll see—I won’t just be capable of splitting a withered tree, but I’ll crack even the hardest rock apart barehanded!”

“Yes, you are the bravest,” Yun Shen chuckled, releasing her hand.

As Chen Shu pulled her hand back and shook it awkwardly, Yun Shen opened his mouth, intending to ask about her actions during the fall. Yet once again, the question echoed only in his mind before he could voice it. Chen Shu would likely give no answers beyond her usual claim of “rescuing anyone” or her excuse about “finding the sword” bringing her to the Valley of Villains—oblivious even to her own emotions, she couldn’t provide the insight he desired.

So his query remained unvoiced. Instead, he raised his chin and gestured toward the cliff. “Then how do you plan to get back, Hero Chen? With no magical power?”

“Lacking magical power doesn’t mean I can’t survive,” Chen Shu retorted. Ignoring the peak Yun Shen indicated, she instead gazed deeper into the valley and pointed randomly, “Hah! This way. The Valley of Villains is circular, after all. Pick any direction and walk half a day. If that brings no luck, walk two or three days—we’d get out eventually.”

With those words, she carelessly wiped the tears stinging her eyes and strode past Yun Shen. After walking a few steps, she paused, sensing no footsteps behind her. Turning back, she saw Yun Shen rooted where they had spoken, watching her silently.

“It’s just walking! We journeyed all the way from Zhanglin Village to Diancang Pass—a much greater distance. How could this leg daunt us?” she said. Then her eyes fell on the tear Yun Shen had deliberately sliced through the cloth covering his foot. Flustered, she clapped her hands. “Oh! You’ve hurt your leg!”

“Yes. I’ve injured my leg,” Yun Shen remarked dryly.

“You moved nimbly enough when you reached out to save me! Truly, not a single step can you manage?” Chen Shu pressed. “How about… How about I carry you?”

The request hung unanswered in the silence. Yun Shen stared unwavering until Chen Shu turned uneasy. Coughing self-consciously, she supplied her own answer:

“Ah, well… I’m rather careless. If I dropped you and added another injury, that would be worse. How about this—I’m speedy. I’ll head back quickly alone. It’s not like enemies threaten this valley. You wait quietly here for a few hours until I return for you.”

“…You intend to abandon the lame-footed me in these desolate mountains overnight?” Yun Shen inquired gently, a subtle smile curling his lips.

Flustered, Chen Shu scratched her head viciously then trudged back toward him. Though clearly reluctant, she muttered assent, “Fine! I should’ve known such delicacy marks scholars… I won’t abandon you. You came to this Valley of Villains with me, so naturally, I’d never leave you behind.” Without meeting his eyes, she pushed past him toward the cliff face where the Crooked-Neck Tree had fallen. Bending down, she began gathering branches scattered about.

Yun Shen spoke lightly from her heels. “Just let it be. It’s not like I can’t survive alone in these forsaken woods. I know well—having one person seek aid is far quicker than waiting days here for your magic to recover. You’re not obliged to stay. Rest assured, I won’t ever grovel with truly ungrateful words like ‘Please, Little Shu! Without you protecting me, I’d surely perish!’…”

Two quick strokes later, Chen Shu had fashioned the branches into sharpened spears. She stood poised to stride away when Yun Shen’s lilting voice froze her shoulders in place. Swinging around, utterly at her limit, she shouted:

“…I’m just finding food! I absolutely won’t abandon you here!”

Yun Shen chuckled lightly. “Mm.”

The sun had reached its zenith, its rays finally pouring deep into the twisting canyon. Perhaps the heat, perhaps irritation, but Yun Shen saw a vivid blush bloom across her cheeks—she looked utterly lovely.

Realizing belatedly from Yun Shen’s tranquil expression that he’d only been teasing her, the fire sputtered as abruptly from her indignation as it had sparked. She echoed his “Mm,” managing the same nonchalant acknowledgment. With movements quicker than before, she barreled toward the trees.

To Yun Shen’s eyes, her fleeing form bore a distinct suggestion of flustered retreat.

Only then did satisfaction settle over Yun Shen. A faint, inexplicable sigh escaped his lips. With Chen Shu gone, solitude held him. The lingering smile slowly faded from his features. He walked into a nearby stone cave sheltering beneath the cliff’s edge. Raising his eyes within its cool confines, he deliberately tracked the piercing shafts of light spearing through the canopy overhead.

He couldn’t shake the memory—as they plunged from the clifftop and hovered near tree-collision, that moment he’d instinctively closed his eyes. He’d felt it: a protective surge of power around Chen Shu. Illusion? Or might someone truly have…

Truly, had someone—in this forsaken gorge—called upon magic? Had someone wielded such controlled power to shield Chen Shu? Effortless. Silent. Impossible to trace…