Chapter Forty-Nine: Many Thanks, Senior Brother

Chapter Forty-Nine: Many Thanks, Senior Brother

The black wind dispersed.

Xiao Yunyu was dead.

With blood gushing from his throat and eyes wide with disbelief, he plummeted into the thicket below, landing with a heavy crash.

For a moment, Fang Junmei stood frozen.

The ferocity in his eyes receded like the tide. There had never been any deep-seated enmity between him and Xiao Yunyu. It was but a surge of violent impulse within him that had driven him to kill.

Song Shedé, who had given chase, was equally stunned.

It was one thing for fellow disciples to spar, and even to kill one another outside the sect, so long as no one found out. But to kill someone within the sect grounds—this was no trivial matter.

This will lead to disaster!

Song Shedé’s heart sank. After a jolt, he snapped back to his senses and hastily scanned the surroundings with his spiritual senses. Only when he found no one nearby did his nerves ease.

He exhaled heavily, landing on the ground. With a swift hand seal, a ball of flame shot toward Xiao Yunyu’s corpse.

“The man is already dead, what are you standing around for?” Song Shedé barked in a low voice, kicking Fang Junmei hard in the rear. “Hurry up and clean this place up! If the sect finds out, being expelled might be the lightest punishment. You could very well be executed.”

Jolted awake, Fang Junmei glanced at Song Shedé with a complicated look, then began tidying the scene.

He retrieved Xiao Yunyu’s twin swords and stowed them away, erased traces of their chaotic battle as best he could, and gathered the tattered fragments of his opponent’s clothing to burn them together.

But it was impossible to cover up everything—so many broken trees could never be concealed.

Finally, together with Song Shedé, they burned Xiao Yunyu’s body until nothing remained, and only then dared to breathe easy.

“Let’s go. Leave this place. No matter who asks about Xiao Yunyu, you must never admit a thing,” Song Shedé said sternly after searching for any other traces.

Fang Junmei’s expression was dark as he gazed at Song Shedé, a flicker of murderous intent in his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll never tell a second soul. Besides, could you even kill me if you tried?” Song Shedé’s eyes were sharp, reading Fang Junmei’s thoughts. He sighed inwardly at the man’s twisted state of mind, but outwardly just laughed as usual.

Fang Junmei said nothing, his gaze growing ever more complex.

“Go and rediscover your true self! Do you think you have all the time in the world?” Song Shedé scolded again, kicking at him once more.

“Don’t follow me!” Fang Junmei dodged aside, his eyes flashing coldly as he spoke, before finally heading deeper into the wilderness.

Song Shedé watched his retreating back, shook his head with a sigh, and then turned to deal with the corpses of the demon beasts Fang Junmei had slaughtered—another detail that could arouse suspicion. Cautious, indeed.

…

Neither of them noticed that, not far away, behind a boulder on a mountain slope, someone had paused their sword flight and was watching with spiritual perception.

This man, dressed in yellow, with rugged features and a wine gourd at his waist, was none other than Linghu Jinjiu.

Linghu Jinjiu hadn’t cultivated recently, and realizing that Fang Junmei had yet to return when he should have, he’d come to look for him.

Who could have foreseen that he would witness such a scene from afar? His cultivation surpassed Song Shedé’s, and his spiritual sense was stronger, so Song Shedé hadn’t noticed him.

Frowning, Linghu Jinjiu watched until both men left, then snorted in frustration, took several fierce swigs from his flask, and circled around toward Fang Junmei’s direction.

…

As for Fang Junmei, after a day alone roaming the mountains, he finally found a secluded cave and slipped inside.

He dragged a boulder to block the entrance, then leaned against the earthen wall, eyes vacant and staring upward. For the first time, he felt that something he once possessed was slipping away.

That thing was confidence—the belief he could do better, climb higher, achieve anything through effort and perseverance.

Now, darkness and chaos churned within him. He’d gotten himself into serious trouble, and what lay ahead was beyond his control or ability.

With a crash, Fang Junmei hammered the ground with his fist.

“This isn’t me. It’s not me. I must find my true self again!” he growled, before sitting cross-legged in the darkness to meditate.

But he was not cultivating. Instead, he let memories of his life surface, seeking to awaken his original heart from the fragments of his past.

The old man in Sword North Mountain City, patiently teaching him.

At fifteen, traveling the world to witness its warmth and coldness, to comprehend the principles of the sword.

At twenty, venturing alone into the martial world, righting wrongs with nothing but his sword.

Drakonia, Goluk, Adele.

…

People, places, scenes—one after another, they flickered through Fang Junmei’s mind.

Days passed, one after another.

…

Within the Peach Blossom Source Sword Sect, most cultivators were busy with training and missions. No one watched anyone else too closely. Someone disappearing for three, five, even ten days, or not being seen for months—none of it was unusual.

Thus, for the time being, no one realized Xiao Yunyu was dead.

After clearing away the remains of the demon beasts, Song Shedé came by again. Sensing through spiritual perception that Fang Junmei was truly in seclusion, he finally relaxed and returned to the Unmoving Peak.

…

A month flew by.

That day, Song Shedé stood early atop the highest stone steps, looking down the mountain.

The sun rose high overhead.

Not until afternoon did he finally see that familiar white figure, ascending one step at a time toward the summit.

Fang Junmei was still dressed in snowy white robes, alone, back straight, swordless, his pace steady and unhurried.

Bathed in sunlight, he looked especially clear and resolute.

His gaze was as deep and cold as ever, his face marked by a solitary, forbidding air.

He lifted his head and, suddenly seeing Song Shedé watching him, was momentarily taken aback by the anticipation in the other’s eyes.

Their eyes met.

After a long, silent pause, a spark finally lit up in Fang Junmei’s gaze. A long-lost smile tugged at his lips as he cupped his hands in distant salute.

“Many thanks, Senior Brother!”

Only Fang Junmei himself knew that he had found the courage to walk this path largely because of Song Shedé. Had it not been for the incident with Xiao Yunyu and Song Shedé’s help in covering it up, he would never have recovered so quickly.