Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fuyao Sect Chapter 45

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The deep blue sea was boundless, the heavens and the stars desolate and spa.r.s.e.

The meeting and separation of people was sudden and unbidden, like forsaken drifters wandering without aim.

Tang Zhenren's waistband had a hole in it, which she never bothered to mend. At this moment, the sea wind kept pa.s.sing through the hole mercilessly. The salty breeze caused Yan Zhengming's slightly disheveled long hair to keep whipping at his face. He could only feel that this place was a land of foul winds and muddy waves, the boundaries of the s.p.a.ce impossible to grasp.

Shuikeng had fallen asleep in Zheshi's arms. Han Yuan silently sat hugging his knees at the side, on the verge of falling asleep. Li Yun couldn't help asking in a low voice, “Eldest Shixiong, where should we go from now on?”

Hearing this, Yan Zhengming inhaled deeply and forcefully pinched the s.p.a.ce between his eyebrows. There were dark circles under his eyes. Truth be told, he was even more at a loss than Li Yun was.

Everyone else kept coming to him to ask about their future, but who could he turn to?

Yan Zhengming felt that he might not be able to live up to the seal of the sect leader hanging in front of his chest. Maybe he really wasn't meant to be a sect leader. Thinking back on the past twenty years, if he wasn't going with the tide, he was being forced to move forward by the others. If there was n.o.body to push him or pull him forward, he wouldn't know what to do, where to go.

Seeing his depressed face, Li Yun tugged at him, “Eldest Shixiong?”

“Rest first,” Yan Zhengming came back to himself and said in a soft, comforting voice, “It's fine, don't worry… If there's really nowhere to go, we can go back to the Yan house temporarily for shelter.”

The moment these words were spoken, Cheng Qian also turned.

In all honesty, for Cheng Qian, if they weren't going to return to Fuyao Mountain, there wasn't much difference whether they'd gone to stay in the Yan house or some other place to beg for alms. He didn't have much of an opinion originally, but he couldn't stay silent at that moment — if Xueqing had also been met with misfortune, Xiao-Yue'er and the others might have been intercepted on the way too. Then, did the powerful and wealthy Yan family… still exist?

Cheng Qian hesitated for a moment and spoke up, “Shixiong…”

Looking at Yan Zhengming's expression, he couldn't help hesitating.

On one hand, Cheng Qian understood that his Eldest Shixiong must know about this. But upon seeing his exhaustion, Cheng Qian couldn't help keeping the words at the tip of his tongue, unable to bring himself to speak.

Yan Zhengming forced himself to gather his composure, putting on a nonchalant face, “What is it, Tong Qian?”

Cheng Qian observed him carefully, gaze somewhat avoiding.

At first, Yan Zhengming's heart was warmed by this rare display of softness, but then he sensed that something wasn't right, and immediately had a bad feeling.

As expected, the next moment, Cheng Qian lowered his voice and said, “I'm going to tell you something, don't be too sad, okay?”

Cheng Qian very rarely showed such courteousness. Yan Zhengming's breath was stuck in his throat.

Cheng Qian clenched his teeth, steeled himself, and said quickly, “The Puppet Charm that I gave to Xueqing-ge was broken.”

Zheshi's hand trembled, almost causing him to drop Shuikeng. Han Yuan raised his face with a dazed look. Li Yun paused for a moment before gasping violently.

But Yan Zhengming only stared at Cheng Qian blankly, remaining silent for a long time.

Cheng Qian was worried that he couldn't handle the news and immediately added, “It doesn't necessarily mean that something bad has happened, don't think about the worst possibilities for now.”

Even he himself could feel the guilt weighing on his conscience when he said these words. With that guilt, the following words that he was about to say were also forgotten. Cheng Qian was good at dampening people's mood, but he didn't know how to comfort them. He could only say clumsily, “Maybe he'd lost it by mistake, or maybe it had been broken in someone else's possession…”

“Nn, you're right,” Yan Zhengming looked like he'd only just come back to himself. He forced a smile and went along with Cheng Qian's words, “Maybe he'd encountered a storm on the sea. That Puppet Charm of yours might have saved his life… Ugh…”

Without warning, he shuddered violently. And then he started coughing into his hand, as if he'd been choked by the sea wind.

Cheng Qian opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say, so he experimentally placed a hand on Yan Zhengming's shoulder. He could feel some warmth permeating from his Eldest Shixiong's body, but before he could come in contact with it, that sensation had been dispersed by the sea wind. Sometimes, Cheng Qian would think back to his first time meeting his Eldest Shixiong, with his form and bearing which had been girly and not masculine at all. So in his mind, he often thought of Yan Zhengming as the wastrel who'd spent his time lazing around in the Land of the Tender.

Back then, Yan Zhengming had no calluses on his hands, he had no worries on his mind. What wonderful days those were…

All this misery of wandering in a foreign place and the fear of helplessness, why must they be burdened on him?

Before Cheng Qian could finish mourning for these troubling times, the winds on the sea had changed suddenly.

Without warning, the entire surface of the sea seemed to shake violently. Large waves came out of nowhere, rising like walls of water about six zhang high, coming at them one after another.

The originally calm sea wind suddenly turned fierce. Tang Wanqiu's hole-ridden waistband shook violently, wobbling as if on the verge of falling as it rose higher, but it didn't seem to have enough power to do this. Halfway through, there was the sound of ripping silk — the waistband was torn in two from where the hole was!

The tearing point was right under Cheng Qian's feet. He lost his footing and immediately fell from the waistband. At that moment, Yan Zhengming reacted in time and immediately grabbed Cheng Qian's arm. The mouthful of blood that he'd coughed into his hand earlier instantly stained Cheng Qian's body.

On reflex, Cheng Qian held onto Shuangren and manipulated his core subconsciously. In this critical moment, the sword produced a slight metallic clang. The sound was instantly drowned in the roars of the waves, but Cheng Qian had definitely heard it. His heart stirred. For a moment, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry — this was clearly a reaction from Concretion!

Cheng Qian, “Eldest Shixiong, let me go!”

Yan Zhengming refused to listen. He had been in emotional turmoil right before this, so at the moment, there seemed to be an obstacle set up by a demon in his mind. The only thought in his head was he must never loosen his grip.

In this crucial moment, Cheng Qian didn't have the time to argue and quickly recited the chant for sword-riding in his heart. Perhaps he had really reached the level of attainment, or maybe he had been pushed by the urgency of the situation, but in that instant, he completely skipped the considerable step in between Concretion and sword-riding, and somehow made Shuangren hover unsteadily in the air.

The weight in Yan Zhengming's hand was relieved, so he finally snapped out of it. He recomposed himself and immediately loosened his grip to prevent outside interference for Cheng Qian. “No… Don't force yourself, move over here slowly, slower. You can't fly steadily right now, slow down some more.”

Cheng Qian naturally wouldn't dare to be careless. Achieving Concretion with your sword was equivalent to turning your sword into a part of your own body. Even when standing on a flat plane, anyone would trip quite a few times if they suddenly grew another leg — moreover, Shuangren wasn't a particularly well-behaved sword, and Cheng Qian couldn't fully control it.

Cheng Qian steadily kept his core in check and didn't dare to let his mind wander the slightest bit. He slowly manipulated Shuangren to move closer to Tang Wanqiu's waistband, but right when Yan Zhengming could almost reach out to catch him, another unforeseen event took place.

A pillar of water suddenly burst out of thin air, bringing with it a large surge of waves. When it came down on them, the sea water seemed to contain an indescribable force. Cheng Qian's chest felt suffocated, his breath stuck inside him. He lost control over Shuangren and was flung away with the sword.

The surprised exclamation in his ear was instantly drowned out. Cheng Qian only had enough time to grab the hilt of his sword before falling into the sea. Afterward, he was struck by the waves crashing down from above and immediately lost consciousness.

Fortunately, he never loosened his fingers around the sword. Shuangren's scabbard was lost in the water, and when the blade was blown away by the waves, it struck Cheng Qian's body and opened a cut on his calf. The sea water stung the wound, and Cheng Qian was forced awake by the pain.

He choked on a few mouthfuls of water and immediately held his breath, struggling with all his might.

Cheng Qian had always claimed to not fear life and death, but he had no desire to meaninglessly drown in the sea like this.

Unfortunately, he wasn't particularly good at swimming, which was quite a disgrace for the Tide Swordplay he often used. In the small streams on the land, he could still flail about for a bit, but he truly couldn't do much in the great waves of the sea.

With trembling hands, Cheng Qian made a seal that he wasn't very familiar with. A thin bubble formed around him, unsteadily encapsulating him inside, but these waves could rip Tang Zhenren's waistband in two, so the efforts from his almost-spent core stood no chance at all.

The bubble repeatedly formed itself, but was shattered by the sea water each time. Every time the bubble was broken, Cheng Qian would choke on quite a few mouthfuls of water. Gradually, his consciousness began to dim. He didn't know how long he'd struggled, but at last, he could only float along, unable to keep fighting.

Cheng Qian could only feel the coldness.

The sword was cold, the water was also cold. It was so chilling that his senses were fading out.

Cheng Qian couldn't help thinking back to his childhood years, when he'd seen a funeral procession for the old man next door — it felt like a lifetime ago. The old widow had sewn a set of thick burial clothes for the old man, stuffing it full with the cotton that they'd collected for more than two years. After this experience, a deep impression toward death was formed in Cheng Qian's mind for the first time.

He thought, death must be extremely cold.

But this time, Cheng Qian didn't manage to die.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was setting on another day.

Cheng Qian sat up quickly. The back of his waist stung sharply in pain, almost causing him to lie back down. He then realized that he was currently on top of a large reef. The sword wound on his calf had turned white from being exposed to the sea water, causing the two sides of the cut to curl back hideously. A pale white frost of salt had formed on the bare skin.

Someone spoke from behind him, “Still alive?”

Cheng Qian turned around and saw a ‘savage man' sitting in meditation behind him.

That person was in even worse condition than Cheng Qian, his tattered clothes barely covering his body. His beard and hair were also disheveled, only showing the pair of eyes on his face. His gaze felt like lightning as he stared at Cheng Qian. Somehow, this person felt a bit familiar. After thinking for a long time, Cheng Qian finally exclaimed in shock, “You're… Wen Ya Zhenren?”

Wen Ya glared at him and snapped in anger, “Have your eyes gone bad or have you lost your memory, why are you yelling?”

Cheng Qian's temples throbbed in pain, as if there were needles digging into his head. Meeting an old acquaintance here, thousands and thousands of words came to the tip of his tongue — regarding Master, Shixiong, the Island Lord, Tang Zhenren… but only for a moment. Afterward, he wiped off the vulnerabilities that must never exist and regained his composure.

Cheng Qian put those words away and swallowed them back with the bitter saltiness of the sea water, respectfully making an obeisance to Wen Ya Zhenren the way a junior should. Then he put Shuangren aside wordlessly and sat to regulate his breathing, recovering his exhausted core as quickly as possible.

Wen Ya looked him over for a moment and couldn't help showing some admiration on his face, thinking, “Xiao-Chun told me that this boy might be the reincarnation of his master. Looking at him this way, there really are some similarities.”

He silently stayed to guard Cheng Qian until midnight, when the star-filled sky hung over the deep blue sea. The tides had receded slightly, exposing a large part of the reef's form.

The moment Cheng Qian came back to himself, he heard Wen Ya Zhenren speak, “That ‘Sword of Miserable Death' is rebellious and unruly, it's not something that could be tamed just by learning about it and reasoning. You must have realized this too.”

Cheng Qian was stunned for a moment, and then he reacted, “Senior, you're the one who'd left this sword in my room?”

Wen Ya laughed coldly, “Who else could it be? Thanks to the misfortune from your sect, that run-down seaside inn of mine couldn't even keep running because I'm related to you all, and I even have a flock of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds trying to hunt me down. I was planning to return the thing that your sect had entrusted in my care and lay low until everything has pa.s.sed. Heh, funnily enough, arriving at the right time is better than arriving early, and I got here just in time for the great battle on Azure Dragon Island.”

Cheng Qian, “This sword was my master's?”

Wen Ya snorted, “Bulls.h.i.t. How could a soft person like your master ever hope to use a lethal weapon like this? It was your Shizu's. Many years ago, it had happened to end up in my possession. At the time, your sect's people were either disabled or too young, there was n.o.body to entrust this sword to, so I've been holding onto it — if the wielder of this sword possesses a steadfast and immovable heart, the sword will be able to unleash immense power. But if the wielder shows the slightest bit of weakness, the sword will strike back against them. It's the number one object in the world that goes with the saying ‘take advantage of the weak and fear the strong'. The quality of your sect keeps dropping with each generation, and yours in particular is even more unbearable to look at. If one must choose from your group of wastrels, you would be the only one who stood a chance against it.”

Those words gave Cheng Qian a funny feeling. Somehow, he felt that this senior of his was quite good at idle chatter. He immediately got to his feet and bid his farewell, “Many thanks for Senior's a.s.sistance. I still need to find my Shixiong, so I'll be taking my leave now.”

“Hold it,” Wen Ya stopped him, “Do you know where they are?”

Cheng Qian knew in general that the area of islands and reefs on the East Sea was quite small, so Yan Zhengming and the others must have ended up nearby too. Even though he was new at this, he was able to ride his sword after all and could fly around the sea nearby while the wind and waves were calm. Finding them shouldn't be too hard.

But the next moment, he was shocked by Wen Ya's words, “I'll tell you this, they're on an uninhabited island less than five li from here. If you fly on your sword, you'll reach them in no time. But I suggest that you stay away — because Zhou Hanzheng also happened to be on that island.”

Cheng Qian immediately came to a halt.

Wen Ya continued, “The East Sea was shaken so violently last night, that your group had also been affected, which meant that a formidable master had pa.s.sed. Gu Yanxue… Ah, that pretty boy named Zhou must have escaped in the confusion too — Hmph, he's quite quick to run.”

Cheng Qian wasn't so anxious at first, but hearing Wen Ya's words, he could no longer sit still. Before Wen Ya could finish speaking, Cheng Qian had leapt onto Shuangren and taken off into the air.

Wen Ya didn't think that he would be so quick-tempered. Cursing under his breath, he flicked out a ray of azure light with his finger, producing an immortal-binding rope that went after Cheng Qian. It coiled around his body firmly and caused him to fall onto the reef again.

Wen Ya snapped, “Are you insane? Trying to get yourself killed? Who said that you're the old demon lord's reincarnation, was he blind?”

Those words came abruptly out of nowhere, but surprisingly, Cheng Qian understood. He struggled violently, “I'm not, Master had made a mistake — Senior, that Zhou Hanzheng harbors evil intentions, he might cause harm to Shixiong and the others, I must ask of you to show some mercy and release me.”

Wen Ya said, “Stop overestimating yourself. That pretty boy named Zhou might not be an honorable person, but his level of skill can't be overlooked. If I had been in my prime, I might have been able to go against him… You? Hmph.”

Cheng Qian wasn't moved in the slightest, “Many thanks for Senior's information. I naturally wouldn't be able to fight him fair and square, but I can attack him in secret or plot some other schemes. Senior, please don't make things difficult for me.”

Wen Ya, “…”

He truthfully didn't know how Cheng Qian could speak such words. Among the common folks, a sixteen- to seventeen-year-old boy might have counted as an independent fellow, but in the cultivation world full of thousand-year-old figures, he was a mere little whelp that wasn't worthy of attention.

Wen Ya couldn't figure out how Han Muchun had raised Cheng Qian, the little whelp — not only did he feel no fear or respect for stronger people, he was also brazenly vicious!

Cheng Qian was beginning to lose his patience, but he had been refraining from turning hostile in consideration for Wen Ya's friendship with Muchun Zhenren. He gritted out, “Senior Wen!”

“Your sect…” Wen Ya suddenly let out a long sigh, “Kid, with just the bunch of you brats, you won't be able to support Fuyao Mountain.”

Cheng Qian had no idea why he kept badmouthing Fuyao Mountain, but he recalled that this man hadn't said much good things with his master too, so he wasn't bothered. He didn't argue against those words and just met Wen Ya's eyes for a grudging moment. Then he sneakily began examining the ropes on his body, planning to find an opening to escape.

But the next moment, the pressure around his body was gone. Wen Ya had summoned the immortal-binding ropes back.

Wen Ya said, “You managed to reach the stage of sword-riding at this age, so you're quite an outstanding one. I've known your master for such a long time, I can't just stand by and watch you get yourself killed. Here —”

Before he finished speaking, a few figures abruptly appeared on the reef. Wen Ya had produced three clones.

“If you could break through these three clones of mine, I will stop getting in your way,” Wen Ya said, “But there's a rule. I don't want to see your Fuyao Sect's flowery and gaudy swordplay. You are only allowed to choose one technique, and can only use this technique repeatedly. If you can break through my clones, you can go and scheme against whoever you want.”

If only one technique was allowed, wouldn't this be a battle of their cultivation base?

Cheng Qian almost laughed in anger — it felt like this Senior Wen had no consideration for his own respectability. To think that he would suggest a battle of their cultivation base, was it any different from challenging a five-year-old to an arm-wrestling match?

Truly, absolutely shameless.

Hi, everyone! Thank you so much for reading Liu Yao!

Regarding the translation, I have a question about your preferences: Would you guys like to see the guys being referred to as ‘Dshixiong, Er-shixiong, San-shixiong' or ‘Eldest Shixiong, Second Shixiong, Third Shixiong?'

I've made a poll on , please cast your vote on that tweet!

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