Chapter 31: Lu Changyuan’s Sword

Luan Rumeng did not hesitate in the slightest.

She had never planned to live on, so she would burn all her remaining lifespan and cultivation, and today she would kill her junior disciple.

Su Wu Xiang seemed to have understood this as well.

His body twisted and writhed madly, his long tentacles flailing chaotically, as if reaching out toward Luan Rumeng, pleading for an embrace.

Luan Rumeng shook her head.

A cold gleam of light pierced straight into the demonic body.

A muffled thunder roared across the sky.

The Heavenly Dao could not permit an invader of the Desire Demon to remain in this world, thus divine punishment descended.

Black rain wrapped in blazing golden lightning crashed down, shattering the carved pavilion beside the Lake of Retained Affection.

Azure roof tiles surged with lightning essence before crumbling to dust in the blaze.

The all-encompassing heavenly fire ignited everything it could touch, proclaiming the wrath of the Heavenly Dao.

Under the furious heavenly thunder, Su Wu Xiang’s demonic body was battered into countless holes.

Within the disgusting mass of flesh, a small crystal core, like jade, emerged.

Luan Rumeng’s sword had already arrived.

As long as she destroyed this core, everything would end.

In that instant, she burned away all of her remaining lifespan, gathering it into this one strike.

“Senior Sister.”

The sudden call came hazily, as if echoing from a thousand years ago, a voice she often heard back when she was still cultivating the Dao.

Before Luan Rumeng’s eyes, a phantom shadow appeared.

It was a short-haired youth with a simple, honest smile on his face.

“Senior Sister, I want to eat the candied pears you make again. Could you make them for me, just once more?”

The wind carried memories and longing from a thousand years past, yet Luan Rumeng did not pause for even an instant.

This was only an illusion conjured by the great demon, unwilling to die.

She pierced the phantom with her sword. But in the next moment, another shadow appeared.

This time, it was a small boy, Su Wu Xiang at eight years old.

“Senior Sister, when I grow up, I’ll marry you. So… hug me, okay?”

Once again, Luan Rumeng’s sword cut through the delusion.

Sixth Realm, Dawning Sun—her heart was firm as iron, the Dao followed its natural course.

But.

Another phantom appeared.

This time it bore a resolute and hardened face.

The boy who once clamored for sweets had grown into a man, advancing swiftly in cultivation.

He said: “Senior Sister, run away with me, won’t you?”

Luan Rumeng’s sword slowed.

On this night when no moon could be seen, if she had agreed back then, Su Wu Xiang would not have risked practicing demonic techniques, and all the tragedies that followed would never have come to pass.

The phantom extended his hand: “I’ll take Senior Sister away.”

Luan Rumeng faltered.

She recalled the youth’s embrace—warm and strong—as though all the burdens of the world could be cast aside within it.

Thus, her sword faltered.

“I… I…”

For a fleeting moment, Luan Rumeng remembered the night of her wedding.

The phoenix-red bridal veil had been gently lifted, and in the candlelight, her junior disciple’s face flickered with shadow and glow.

Everything was so beautiful.

But in that instant of distraction, the tentacles behind her thrust her straight into the demonic core.

Her delicate figure was utterly devoured.

Su Wu Xiang could not see through it, so he fell into demonhood.

She too could not see through it, and thus failed to slay the demon.

The Demon Kingdom remained.

All beings continued to suffer.

The monstrous waves beneath the lake grew even more violent, as if enraged by Luan Rumeng’s devouring.

From the lakebed, a drenched figure crawled out, scarlet blood seeping from the corners of his lips.  

“Young Palace Master, the sword is in hand. We should return.”  

Blood Smoke Rakshasa spat a mouthful of blood: “Go!”  

He was in poor condition.

The tremors of the seal at the lakebed had rebounded upon them, not to mention they had directly endured Su Wu Xiang’s demonic voice—that sound could drive one mad and plunge them into mortal corruption.  

They had been lucky.

The great demon, upon emerging, had ignored them.

Now, with the sword secured, their goal had been achieved, and everything was worth it.  

Suddenly, Severed Thought quivered violently, as if about to break free and soar skyward, continuing its duty of suppressing the demon.  

Blood Smoke Rakshasa poured all his strength into calming the sword’s cry.  

Ripples spread in the sky. Someone seemed to have been waiting here for them all along.  

A voice spoke: “Leave the sword, and you may depart to Upper Jade Capital.”  

Wearing a lotus crown, clothed in a green-and-white Daoist robe, with silver hair flowing like the moon, a young girl stood with lotus shoes treading lightly upon the air.  

Blood Smoke Rakshasa narrowed his eyes: “Third Royal Highness, do you seek to seize the sword?”  

Su Youwan held an oil-paper umbrella as she stepped forward, one step at a time. She softly replied, “Mm.”  

She seemed not to regard the two men at all.  

Elder Zhen spoke: “This is far too unreasonable.”  

Su Youwan answered as though she were the most reasonable of all:  

“You come into my home, turn it into chaos, pit my brothers against one another, and throw my people into fear. At those times, did you ever speak of reason?”  

She continued gently:  

“When it is family fighting among themselves, it is not my place to interfere. When guests brawl, it is not my place to interfere. But if guests try to steal from me, then I must interfere.”  

Blood Smoke Rakshasa was about to speak, but he suddenly felt a faint breeze.

It was slight, yet it carried an inescapable omen of death, as if his fate had already been sealed.  

Today, he must die here.  

In disbelief, Blood Smoke Rakshasa looked at Su Youwan: “The Mandated Heavenly Dao!?”  

Su Youwan’s lips curved almost imperceptibly.

Between her fingers appeared a long, slender embroidery needle: “Now, may I have the sword?”  

Blood Smoke Rakshasa’s expression grew grave as he stared at the needle: “Impossible. Do you not fear the backlash of the Heavenly Dao? Those who cultivate the Mandated Heavenly Dao are fated to die under calamity.”  

“No need for your concern.”  

A fine thread stretched from Su Youwan’s hand, winding around Severed Thought, slowly pulling it back.  

Elder Zhen made no move.  

He had already been nailed in place by the needle.  

Though he had stepped into the Fifth Realm, entering the Dao, he had been sealed by a little girl not yet in the Dao, embroidered into a fate where any movement meant death.  

Su Youwan carefully held the sword in her hands, softly brushing its blade. “Severed Thought, Severed Thought, does Young Master Blood know whose sword this is?”  

Blood Smoke Rakshasa had learned of the sword from the Blood Demon Lord, who had in turn learned of it from Noodle Granny. But Noodle Granny had never revealed whose sword it was, so Blood Smoke Rakshasa naturally did not know.  

He had long found it strange—how could such a fine sword exist, yet leave no trace or rumor in this world, nor any record of its master?  

Su Youwan’s voice rang clear like a mountain spring:  

“Years ago, Su Wu Xiang traveled the Black Domain and befriended a man and a woman. The woman later founded the Sun-Moon Palace. The man returned with Su Wu Xiang to the White Domain. On the night Su Wu Xiang fell into demonhood, that man stood by his side, watching as his friend was possessed by the Desire Demon and transformed into a monster.”  

This young ancestor of the Cihang Palace seemed to know this history with great clarity.  

“That night, the man battled the demonized Su Wu Xiang for a full day and night, destroying half of Upper Jade Capital, even tearing down its city gates. But as the man was only at the Sixth Realm then, he could not kill Su Wu Xiang. So in the end, he suppressed him beneath the Lake of Retained Affection. And this sword was that man’s personal weapon.”  

For some reason, Su Youwan laughed softly:  

“Later, the Sun-Moon Palace became the greatest demonic sect of the Black Domain. The Sun-Moon Palace had two guardians—Su Wu Xiang as the Left Guardian, and this sword belonged to the Right Guardian.”  

Severed Thought was Lu Changyuan’s sword.  

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