Chapter 119: Her Friends (Without Zora)

Drunken Lu Bay.

"Congratulations, Senior Sister Yiling!" a disciple said, his joy plain to see. "The Sect Leader thinks so highly of you; surely the position of the next Sect Leader..."

"Mind your words, Junior Brother," a woman with a gentle face but solemn eyes warned. Until a decision was set in stone, such talk would only invite resentment toward Yiling Ke.

"Ah, sorry, Senior Sister Yiling..." The disciple shut his mouth sheepishly.

Yiling Ke waved her hand, slumped in a rattan chair as if her soul had left her body. "I know..."

Her junior brother, Chen Shu, scratched his head and gave a silly grin.

In the later stages of cultivation, success relied not just on talent, but on efficiency. The speed of cultivation would slow down, requiring a flash of inspiration or a perfectly timed shift in state of mind. Those cultivators who spent all twelve watches of the day in meditation often failed to make significant progress.

Consequently, Yiling Ke was as busy as a dog, swamped with sect affairs, spinning like a top. By the end of the day, her face was stiff from smiling.

How did Senior Sister Turi handle this?

Turi Qi had been doing this since she was a teenager, yet she never showed a hint of fatigue when she finally had a moment of peace.

Yiling Ke rubbed her temples.

Terrifying. Truly terrifying. Fortunately, Drunken Lu Bay wasn't like the December Sect—the premier sect that had to have a finger in every single pie. Even within their own sect, there were internal factions; currently, several people were vying with Yiling Ke for the succession, with a faint undercurrent of opposition.

Chen Shu was naturally part of Yiling Ke’s support. Yiling Ke’s older sister, Yiqiu Rong, had an excellent reputation within the sect, known for her gentle and polite nature. Not to mention, the entire Yiling family worked together at Drunken Lu Bay. Even if they didn't intend to, they had accumulated significant reputation and influence, all of which worked in Yiling Ke's favor.

As for why it wasn't Yiqiu Rong or another family member—to be Sect Leader, strength was secondary; the primary requirement was the vision and ability to lead the crowd, which had nothing to do with cultivation talent.

Chen Shu walked out, humming a little tune. There was a small town on the outskirts of Drunken Lu Bay where he liked to buy sundries and listen to storytellers.

"Behold, that sword cultivator spoke with a voice like thunder—'Since ancient times, good and evil have never coexisted! You, as an elder of the December Sect, disregarded human lives and practiced secret forbidden arts. Today, I shall act on behalf of Heaven!'"

The storyteller described the scene vividly, his voice rising and falling as if he had truly become the person in the tale.

"No—are you not afraid of the crime of betraying your sect?! The elder wailed, and in an instant, he vanished into ash! That sword cultivator wouldn't even listen, completely disregarding so-called reputation, treating fame and fortune as mere filth."

Next, he spoke with exaggerated flair about how a Demonic Seed had appeared in the premier sect years ago, how a demonic cultivator had abducted him, and how a sword cultivator had pursued them directly into the Demon Realm. Then followed thousands of words of exaggerated praise for the sword cultivator’s hatred of evil.

"Where is she now!" someone shouted while cracking melon seeds.

The storyteller stroked his beard and said in a meaningful, low tone, "Perhaps she has vanished, perhaps she is lurking in the Demon Realm, perhaps..."

—"Perhaps she's becoming a hegemon in the Demon Realm; it's much more free than the cultivation world."

These were the words Yiling Ke had uttered with a dead-eyed, speechless expression while sitting here listening to the story last time she was bored. No one heard her except the accompanying Chen Shu.

Chen Shu, who had just been looking at the story with longing, thought she was joking. He laughed heartily. "Hahahaha! Senior Sister Yiling is so funny! At the very least, Senior Zora must be enduring humiliation to lead the Demon Realm so she can eventually backstab those wretched demonic cultivators. I wonder when she’ll come back."

He couldn't enter the Demon Realm. Currently, the cultivation world only knew of a dozen or so passages, and the locations of those passages shifted unpredictably. Even the cultivators guarding them couldn't predict the changes; they could only search vast areas based on experience every so often. Sometimes they could only find two or three; many remained hidden for years.

Furthermore, these were two-way passages. Once exposed, or if a cultivator tried to enter, word would inevitably leak to the Demon Realm, causing the two worlds to blend. What the cultivation world wanted was to keep the two realms completely separate; seeing that the Demon Realm remained insignificant for a long time, they naturally didn't meddle.

"..." Yiling Ke shot him a sideways glance.

As she continued to listen to the storyteller's "Zora Melodrama," Yiling Ke found it increasingly hard to watch. Her expression became complicated; she opened her mouth, then closed it again. By the time she heard the line "Zora the sword cultivator is as pure as the breeze and the moon," she completely snapped, slowly closing her eyes.

Turi Qi had indeed found evidence of the elders' foul deeds, "clearing" Zora’s name and overturning the charges of her defection. Even Zora's departure for the Demon Realm was given a perfect justification.

Vane’s existence had become a stepping stone for her fame. The influence of the Demonic Seed had actually diminished; like a great villain, no matter how famous his name once was, if he was eliminated, he became nothing more than a celebrated, less-threatening stone step on a hero's path to glory. Some people didn't even know the name of the Demonic Seed was Vane, referring to him only as "the Demonic Seed."

But for some reason, these rumors had been passed around in the mortal realm until they turned into

this

. Perhaps the common people wanted their powerful cultivators to be like that, so they polished the stories this way. Realizing this, Yiling Ke never bothered to publicly refute anything during this period.

But honestly...

Lying on her rattan chair, she looked at the sky. The golden clouds reflected the sun; the burning sky was tireless and fierce. Yiling Ke stood up and flicked her finger. A yellow talisman appeared out of nowhere, carving an opening in the barrier. She stepped through, met by a wave of heat.

The days of the past felt like a previous life. A brief memory made the world feel like a blur, as if a thin film covered the past, preventing her from truly feeling it. Yet, she truly wanted her to come back.

Maybe the Demon Realm really is more free for Zora,

Yiling Ke thought.

How should she put it? That idiot Zora was just so direct. If she had asked for help, been a bit more roundabout or subtle, she wouldn't have gone to the Demon Realm in such a hurry, as if fleeing for her life without even collecting any life-saving spiritual tools.

The yellow talisman behind her burned to ash, and the barrier returned to normal. This way... she wouldn't occasionally wonder why she hadn't been able to help. Yiling Ke tugged at the ends of her hair.

But everyone has their own life. Surely Zora wouldn't wallow in old feelings or old wounds. That would be for the best.

...

Song Zhihuai walked through the snow.

Cultivation required a quiet heart, and the cold environment was exactly what he needed. He had been walking in the uninhabited snowy wastes for ninety-nine days. His footsteps never stopped, walking from day until night. His cultivation never stopped either; spiritual power circulated constantly within him, no different from meditating.

The fine snow dipped slightly under his footprints; as he lifted his foot, the prints miraculously vanished as if no one had ever stepped there. Occasionally, heavy snow or light flakes would drift down, decorating his black hair with a thin layer of silver. A layer of frost had accumulated on his shoulders. A bird, unable to leave or find a place to hide, landed helplessly on the only heat source in the silver-shrouded world.

Its claws gripped his shoulder fabric, brushing away the snow before claiming the spot for itself, huddling against his neck for warmth. His gaze remained unchanged. He had no food. The bird lived a little longer due to the warmth, but it soon starved to death, falling away stiffly.

The youth raised his hand, catching the dead bird on his shoulder without breaking his stride. Only when he passed under a tree did he place the bird's body in the fork of a branch. In his view, since the bird had died, it likely wouldn't want to be bound to the ground.

The sky grew dark, the wind bitter. Song Zhihuai suddenly recalled the past with a calm mind. The Dao of Heartlessness was not truly without feeling; his tiny sliver of compassion was just enough to bury this bird.

From this bird, he thought of the missing Junior Sister Zora. He thought of the constraint he had set to help his friend, but if she couldn't send word from the Demon Realm, that constraint was a joke. His footsteps stopped abruptly. His exhaled breath became a white mist that quickly dissipated.

In any case, he believed she would survive. When she needed him, he would not hesitate. His footsteps moved forward again, appearing for a moment before vanishing, heading deeper into the snowy plains.

...

December Sect.

"There seems to be some fluctuation in the Demon Realm."

In the Hall of Seeking Immortals, Ling Zhihuan unrolled a scroll, frowning in thought.

Turi Qi glanced at it. "It should be a change in power. Perfectly normal."

"No, it's not just that," Ling Zhihuan sighed over the scroll, which recorded demonic Qi wave patterns sent by disciples guarding the entrances. "...Though I can't quite see the cause, perhaps the demonic Qi in the Demon Realm is diminishing further."

The cultivation world had always kept an eye on their old enemy’s territory. For some unknown reason, the demonic Qi was decreasing day by day, which pleased the cultivators more than anything. Unable to find a reason, many cultivators claimed it was a punishment from the Heavenly Dao—the natural order that the Demon Realm had to endure.

Turi Qi looked at the scroll and said, "If so, isn't that perfect for our cultivation world?"

Moreover, this meant demonic cultivators wouldn't be able to amount to much. Perhaps Junior Sister Zora was living quite well. Turi Qi tucked the scroll away expressionlessly.

Ling Zhihuan lowered her gaze and remained silent for a long time. "Indeed... you're right."

"By the way, how has the Sword Sovereign been lately?"

Turi Qi said calmly, "Still in secluded cultivation."

"Still in seclusion?" Ling Zhihuan looked worried. "With no sign of an imminent breakthrough or enlightenment, staying in seclusion this long suggests he’s met an insurmountable bottleneck..."

She muttered to herself for a moment, then looked up to see her prized disciple waiting with a steady face, as if they were talking about a stranger rather than her master. Ling Zhihuan wasn't surprised; Wanghua-jun’s current state of mind was hard to grasp, and pushing people away was only natural.

She said, "You may leave. It’s time for the sect to recruit new disciples; just follow the usual procedures."

Turi Qi bowed her head. "Yes. This disciple takes her leave."

Ling Zhihuan watched her silhouette vanish behind the door. She remembered asking Turi Qi about it after Zora had left. At first, she said nothing, only giving a general explanation of the reasons. It wasn't until the evidence against the elders was found and the situation overturned that she spoke of it softly during a walk.

"...I had just returned to the sect. The dawn was breaking when I saw Junior Sister Zora walking out. She was the same as ever—very calm, like she was just going on a short trip and would be back soon. I told her we could go to Senior Sister Yiling, that perhaps the demonic cultivator who abducted Junior Brother Vane used a formation, but she didn't react."

The girl's emotions seemed like a fish surfacing from stagnant water, part of it leaking through her expression: "—She was going into exile, forced into it, yet she was so calm. She just said to me, 'See you next time, Senior Sister Turi.'"

She calmed down quickly, but her brow was furrowed, eyes lowered as she watched her reflection in the pond.

"I’ve thought about it countless times since. What did family revenge matter? They were mortals; they couldn't run away. Why did I have to cling to Junior Sister Zora? Maybe if she had come back a little sooner, Junior Brother Vane wouldn't have been discovered, he could have seen Immortal Zhou for a moment longer, and she wouldn't have had to sit in silence for a whole day."

"Or, why couldn't I have been more perceptive? Junior Brother Vane was already imprisoned. Even if sect affairs needed my attention, I wasn't irreplaceable. Why didn't I just leave it to others? If things went wrong, I could have fixed it the next day. Why was I so eager to perfect everything? It was because of me that she delayed her return to the sect."

"I wasn't there when Vane was imprisoned, and I wasn't there when Immortal Zhou passed away. What was I so busy with? Did those things really compare to her? When I met her outside the sect, why didn't I pay more attention to the blood on her clothes, or say a few more words?"

Every word was heart-wrenching. Ling Zhihuan did not interrupt, only staring quietly at the lotus leaves in the pond.

Turi Qi was silent for a moment, then murmured, "...If only I had known. What I do now is only what I ought to do. Compared to what she endured, it is but a drop in the ocean."

Ling Zhihuan waited for her to finish before saying steadily, "You don't have the power of prophecy; do not take on the responsibility of a great power. The matter of family revenge was not your fault."

"But if you regret not visiting her sooner, I have no words to persuade you. Zora is in the Demon Realm. Perhaps Zhou Shijin sensed her disciple's plan; Zora's life lamp was merged into her own soul and vanished with her death. No one can spy on her disciple's life or death anymore. But I believe she is still alive and well."

"As long as she’s alive, there will be a day we meet again."

"..."

She didn't speak. A breeze passed, making her sleeves flutter.

No matter how intense that feeling was, it had now settled into calm water, unable to cause much of a ripple. Time allowed the sentiment to be buried deep, waiting for the moment it needed to be unearthed. Afterward, she did not wallow in the matter, growing rapidly as Ling Zhihuan hoped.

The name "Zora" was buried in her heart, waiting for the day it would bloom.