Chapter 47: A Visit
Shen Yu watched this scene and let out a deep sigh.
Back on Bamboo Peak years ago, he had once said that a club or a brick was the most honest and unpretentious weapon for self-defense, but he hadn’t expected Shang Yingluo to take his words so seriously. She had found a bamboo stick, and judging by her movements, she was quite practiced in wielding it.
Shang Yingluo casually tucked the black stick into her sleeve and proclaimed with pride, “Shen Yu, I know everything about your situation—I’m here to rescue you.”
Her voice was sweet and clear, like a lark singing in the mountains.
Half a year had passed since their last meeting; Shen Yu noticed that Shang Yingluo had grown taller, her once round cheeks had slimmed to an oval, and she wore a green dress, graceful and demure.
He was momentarily lost in thought; without realizing it, the little girl had grown up. Perhaps in a few more years, she would become another beauty who captivated the world.
Back then, the little sprite who followed him was much the same.
Warmth flickered in Shen Yu’s gaze. He shook his head and said, “The defensive array here is too powerful. You can’t rescue me.”
Shang Yingluo was puzzled. She reached forward and, as expected, encountered an invisible barrier. She summoned all her spiritual energy, eventually pressing her whole body against the barrier, muttering and fussing for a long while, but remained exactly where she started.
Shen Yu simply smiled as he watched.
Finally, Shang Yingluo grew tired, panting as she stepped back and sat down on the ground with a frown. “So what now?”
Seeing her like this, Shen Yu felt his previously oppressed mood lighten. He smiled and said, “Don’t worry. There will always be a way.”
Shang Yingluo considered this seriously and agreed, “You make sense.”
For the rest of the time, she sat outside the cave, chattering about small, trivial matters—for instance, how the spirit fox had become good friends with a mongrel in the Sacred Abyss Hall, the two running wild all day; how she and Willow had become good friends and would follow their senior brother, reading and writing together; and even how the spirit carp in the deep pool had lost a lot of weight.
The girl rambled on, but never mentioned the old Shen family case.
To her, that matter had nothing to do with her.
Shen Yu listened quietly, glanced at the sky, and signaled to her that it was time to go.
“I’ll head off for now. I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”
Shang Yingluo was carefree. She stood, brushed the dust from her dress, and scurried down the cliff.
Soon after, faint cries could be heard from the ground.
“Ow! That bastard knocked me out!”
Ding Yi clutched the back of his head, struggling to his feet, drowsily looking at Shen Yu.
Shen Yu glanced down the mountain. “Didn’t see anything.”
“Didn’t see?” Ding Yi looked around in confusion, seeing no sign of anyone. “What the devil? Who comes to a place like this, where not even birds bother?”
...
Wherever Shen Yu was, things were always lively.
Ding Yi had never expected this desolate Reflection Cliff would ever see so many visitors.
Yanfa Hall’s Ming Jian, Jiang Shaoqiu, Zhenzhen Hall’s Yu Wenwen, and even the prodigious disciple Ye Zhiqiu from the revered Pure Law Hall had all come by.
What most intrigued Ding Yi was Yu Wenwen, the young-looking little junior uncle who came promptly each day and left just as punctually, from morning till night, never seeming bored.
Yet, every time she smiled at him, Ding Yi felt a chill down his back and couldn’t explain why.
One day, watching the little junior uncle skip away at the foot of the mountain, Ding Yi inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to study the man sitting cross-legged on the ground—his expression was complicated, tinged with awe and regret and a hint of admiration.
Many had come these days, saying much, but none were optimistic about Shen Yu’s situation; some even believed his future was bleak.
Yet, the man before him was always calm and indifferent, chatting when it was time, cultivating when it was time, seemingly unconcerned about his predicament.
How did he maintain such tranquility? What had he experienced in life?
Ding Yi knew he could never be so composed. For the first time, he admired someone.
Though they were only a few yards apart, Shen Yu’s manner was never arrogant or disdainful, but Ding Yi always felt a great distance between them—as if, though close, they were worlds apart.
---
“What’s your plan?”
Ding Yi, unusually earnest, said, “If the sect follows the rules, you could be expelled at best, and at worst stripped of your cultivation and reduced to a mortal, unable to practice for the rest of your life.”
Shen Yu was silent for a long time, then shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“You really...” Ding Yi rolled his eyes, then remembered something and said with mockery, “Come to think of it, disciples from the other three halls have come to see you, but none from your Sacred Abyss Hall. Are they afraid you’ll embarrass them?”
Even Ye Zhiqiu from Pure Law Hall had boldly ignored gossip to visit Reflection Cliff, but since Shen Yu returned to the mountain, no one from Sacred Abyss Hall had come. Rumors circulated that the sect master had implied abandoning this heartless disciple.
Shen Yu’s expression remained calm. He thought for a moment, then said, “Perhaps the matter is more complicated.”
...
Sacred Abyss Hall, Flying Peak.
No matter how turbulent things were outside, it was always tranquil here, as if nothing had changed for thousands of years.
Willow watered several Swordgrass plants in the Spirit Herb Garden, but her face was troubled, her thoughts elsewhere.
“If you keep watering, these spirit herbs will rot,” came Su Mo’s gentle voice from the side.
Willow snapped back to herself, hurriedly pulling the ladle away, offering an apologetic smile.
Su Mo asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Willow hesitated, then quietly asked, “Senior brother, why won’t you let us go to Pure Law Hall to see Shen Yu?”
She knew of the events outside, and Shen Yu’s ordeal weighed heavily on her heart.
“It’s not time yet,” Su Mo said mildly.
Willow shook her head, aggrieved. “But... everyone’s saying we’re abandoning Shen Yu. Won’t that make him sad?”
Su Mo patted her shoulder gently, smiling, “You underestimate your Shen Yu.”
He explained, “He’s caught up in the game now, unable to act freely. As observers, we must discern the intentions of the players. If we rush in, we’ll be too passive.”
Willow half-understood.
Su Mo asked, “Do you believe the rumors?”
Willow answered firmly, “No.”
Su Mo pressed again, “What if junior brother really did it?”
Willow replied seriously, “Then he must have had no choice.”
“That’s enough.” Su Mo nodded, smiling, and stepped out of the herb garden.
Watching his departing figure, Willow felt something missing inside her, and instinctively glanced back.
Outside the bamboo grove, there was no one.
Yet there should have been a lean Daoist there, meditating.
...
Pure Law Hall, Reflection Cliff.
Shen Yu sat cross-legged outside the cave, cultivating in the icy mountain wind.
Ding Yi began his usual rambling.
“It’s been days without seeing that little girl—strange, isn’t it?”
He laughed, “Say, are they really planning to abandon you? You’re pretty pitiful, with only me for company, haha.”
---
Shen Yu opened his eyes and gazed quietly toward the foot of the mountain.
The air rippled faintly, and a breeze swept by.
A tall man approached, smiling at Shen Yu.
Ding Yi straightened up, suddenly serious.
Zhang Zhi, head of Sitting Forget Peak, waved his hand dismissively.
Ding Yi scampered off, hiding behind a rock, peeking at the two.
“This place has a nice view,” Zhang Zhi said, hands clasped behind his back, surveying the surroundings before focusing on Shen Yu in the prison. “Isn’t it odd—none of your friends have come lately?”
Shen Yu replied coolly, “Have you found a new life-bound spiritual treasure?”
At those words, Zhang Zhi’s face turned grim. After a long moment, he sneered and slowly raised a finger. “Ten years ago, when you slaughtered twenty-six members of the Shen family, you couldn’t have known a wandering beggar saw it all, forcing you to flee.”
“But...” Zhang Zhi raised a second finger, his voice grave. “On the southwestern border of Dali, in Sunset Town, there was a Daoist temple called Yunyang Temple. The year after the Shen family incident, you appeared there as a destitute beggar. On New Year’s Eve, you beat the temple master to death and locked several Daoists inside to burn alive. The fire raged for three days and nights, reducing Yunyang Temple to ruins.”
Ding Yi, hidden behind the rock, gaped in shock.
“Yunyang Temple was appointed by the Dali dynasty, its master, the Virtuous Daoist, renowned and respected throughout the southwest.”
Zhang Zhi swept his sleeve, angrily rebuking, “Shen Yu, to commit such monstrous crimes—do you truly wish for death?”
His voice thundered like the heavens, scattering the meager spiritual energy of Reflection Cliff, clouds churning in turmoil.
Shen Yu didn’t even blink, replying calmly, “Oh.”
“Nothing to say?” Zhang Zhi was disappointed not to see panic, and continued, “Your silence changes nothing. You naively think this is merely killing a few mortals? You slew a sect appointed by the Dali dynasty, a renowned cultivator. Now, no one in the sect dares speak for you, and the entire mountain housing Reflection Cliff is forbidden to outsiders.”
“As for you, once the Central Province Academy quota is decided in half a month, I’ll personally strip your cultivation in the ancestral hall and send you to Dali’s capital for secular judgment.”
Zhang Zhi felt vindicated, leaning in with a smile. “Well? Are you satisfied with this arrangement?”
Shen Yu remained as serene as ever, “Oh.”
“Hmph, still so stubborn—how amusing.”
Zhang Zhi’s gaze turned cold, his smile mocking. “By the way, I should thank you. This year’s sect competition—your spot is now taken by Sitting Forget Peak. You’ve done my hall a favor.”
Shen Yu was indifferent, gazing quietly at the sea of clouds.
“Enjoy your last days,” Zhang Zhi said, sweeping his sleeve and laughing as he left. Halfway down, he turned and called out, “Did you hear everything?”
Ding Yi shook his head furiously, “No...”
Bang!
He was slammed against the rock wall, spitting blood.
“Next time, don’t lie so convincingly.”
Zhang Zhi descended Reflection Cliff, saying mildly, “If I catch you getting close to him again, I’ll break your legs.”
His footsteps faded; Reflection Cliff grew silent.
Ding Yi lay by the rocks, blood pooling at his feet, fists clenched, staring after the departing figure.
Shen Yu watched quietly, saying nothing.