Chapter Eleven: My Brother's Name is Li Qing

From a distance, Wu Yue appeared utterly motionless. Only upon approaching did one realize he was drenched in sweat.

Wu Yue was not well. He was lost. At times, he felt himself still in the hospital, surrounded by that ghastly pallor, able to hear every scream of the patients—anguished, piercing cries...

At other moments, he seemed adrift upon the sea, floating with a woman at his side. Her eyes wide open, she spoke to him, asking what he wished to eat. “I’ve never met anyone as peculiar as you…”

Sometimes, he imagined himself transformed into a monster, wandering the cold reaches of the universe, devouring the weak while fleeing from the strong. Until, one day, he spotted a feeble soul radiating a most delectable scent...

At Aunt Xue’s house, the mood was high and spirited. Though night had fully fallen, the place was ablaze with light. The villagers all wore festive expressions. Xue Xiaoyu, unpretentious as ever, regaled everyone with tales of plucking clouds from the sky and battling sea dragons, earning roars of laughter from all.

As for the monk, he had used some strange magic to heal Choumei’s wounds! Spirits soared even higher. Drunk on the festivities, Xue Xiaoyu took to his sword and soared above the village, circling it as everyone cheered wildly. The excitement swelled—several families resolved then and there to send their children to cultivate the arts. With a master right before them… an opportunity not to be missed, for who knew if such a chance would come again in five years...

Sun Er, the notorious figure feared in several villages, slunk away in disgrace. Fortunately, the monk bore no intent to harm; otherwise, who could say if Sun Er would ever rise again. He slipped away quietly, unnoticed, and even if someone did see, none cared. Now that the Xue family’s immortal had returned, the question of who truly held sway in the village was up for debate. And so, Sun Er departed, his face barely concealing its malice.

As for Xie Huanling, never underestimate the importance of appearance to a young woman. Once accustomed to hanging her head in shame, Choumei now lifted her chin with pride. She was Xie Huanling, and as for her younger brother? Well, he was no longer foolish—surely he could care for himself. Aunt Xue, ever warm, tried her best to keep her, clearly intending to match Xie Huanling with Xue Xiaoyu.

Tonight, everyone’s spirits seemed restless, buoyed by joy.

There’s an old saying: A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even if it takes ten years. But a petty man finds overnight vengeance too long to wait.

Before long, a streak of light shot from Sun Er’s dwelling, vanishing into the horizon in a blink.

It was a night of celebration. The Xue family’s boy truly seemed a celestial being. With a flick of his wrist, a piece of paper burst into a fireball, illuminating the entire courtyard.

In the eyes of the crowd, the immortal Xiaoyu merely made a gesture and uttered a spell; several green lights appeared, curing Uncle Xue’s chronic rheumatism… How wondrous.

No one noticed as a dark cloud began to gather above, swelling until it blotted out the stars.

Only the monk seemed to sense something amiss. He hesitated, then chose to continue sipping his tea, though he drank a little less.

The cloud thickened, eclipsing both moon and stars.

“What’s happening?” Xue Xiaoyu, a cultivator, was the first to sense something was wrong.

“Perhaps the weather’s turning. Everyone, go home to rest,” Aunt Xue called out loudly.

So be it—come in high spirits, leave content.

Suddenly, a dark streak flashed through the crowd! No one had time to react; several people struck by the blackness were instantly reduced to puddles of gore.

Time seemed to freeze, then exploded into chaos. Cries, curses, the sound of running—just as panic erupted, a voice cut through the night:

“Villagers, do not move. We of Black Cloud Stronghold have business here. Disobey, and you shall die!”

Hoofbeats thundered alongside the command. The villagers, terrified, thought to flee, but at the sight of the carnage, none dared move.

“What a display,” Xue Xiaoyu thought grimly. This was his home—he could not run. He shouted, “Everyone, stay calm. I am here.” Only then did panic subside somewhat.

Soon, the sound of hooves drew near. With a crash, seventeen or eighteen men burst through the wall. The villagers, never having witnessed such a spectacle, broke down in tears. In previous years, only four or five from Black Cloud Stronghold would come, and they’d merely seemed like brutal bandits. Now, they were more akin to demons.

Oddly, the bandits did not interfere with the villagers’ sobs. Dismounting, their horses, almost sentient, galloped off into the night.

“Forgive our intrusion at this late hour,” said their leader, Baicheng Xue, bowing as if he were a courteous neighbor. “We of Black Cloud Stronghold have come for something of great importance. For the sake of our long-standing neighborly ties, I ask for your cooperation.” Baicheng Xue’s bearing was remarkable—a fine robe, handsome features; he looked more like a nobleman than a bandit.

“It’s so dark…” A little girl’s voice piped up from the crowd, only to be swiftly silenced by her family’s hand.

“Ah, a shame. I suppose our many killings have tainted the land’s fortune. Truly, I am ashamed,” Baicheng Xue said, bowing again.

“What… what is it you want?” Aunt Xue stammered, her voice trembling in her own home.

With a wave, Baicheng Xue had someone thrown forward. It was Sun Er. The villagers, not fools, now understood Black Cloud Stronghold’s arrival was surely linked to him. Yet, seeing his fate, they realized Sun Er meant little to the bandits. Such was their cunning—if one must play the villain, it might as well be someone else. Unfortunately, Sun Er had been chosen.

“Speak,” Baicheng Xue smiled faintly.

Sun Er stood stunned, but grasped his predicament. Looking at Baicheng Xue and his men, he saw his only choices were to die now, or die later. Gritting his teeth, he pointed at Aunt Xue and shouted, “It’s her! Her son took it! Otherwise, how could a scoundrel like him become an immortal? I know her son—he was a rascal from childhood!” The rogue denouncing another was a flavor all its own.

Aunt Xue exploded in fury. “You son of a cur! Look who’s talking!”

A commotion erupted. Sun Er, you are truly despicable—betrayed by another, you bring bandits to torment your own kin.

“Silence.” Baicheng Xue pressed his hands down; at once, all fell quiet. He, unlike the villagers, did not mistake Xue Xiaoyu for a true immortal. Fixing his gaze on Xiaoyu, he said, “Your talent is ordinary, yet you possess the cultivation of Foundation Establishment at such a young age. Where did you train?”

Even before Baicheng Xue finished, a few of his men slipped away, blocking off the main exits. Seeing this, Xiaoyu’s heart went cold—these were no ordinary men.

Reading the shifting expressions on Xiaoyu’s face, Baicheng Xue continued, “The item in question belongs to Black Cloud Stronghold. It was stolen by a traitor and eventually found its way to your Xie family friends, yet we searched in vain. Since your families are so close, you must know something.”

With difficulty, Xiaoyu replied, “Why force the issue, friend? I am a disciple of Master Qingyuzi, and have received his teachings. I cannot say more.”

Baicheng Xue nodded slightly. “So, a prized disciple of Qingyuzi. In that case, cripple his cultivation and bring him back.” With that, a burly man leapt forward, face contorted with menace.

“Wait. The Xie family still has two members. Why not find them as well?” Uncle Xue’s face was conflicted—he knew speaking thus would earn him scorn in the village, but circumstances left him no choice.

“I know of them. There’s a young woman, but the item is not hers to touch. And a boy—said to be a fool. I may be a bandit, but I’d not stoop to tormenting the simple-minded.”

“That fool isn’t a fool anymore! Perhaps… perhaps… She’s his sister—you can ask her. She said so herself!” Having betrayed his conscience once, the second time came easier.

Aunt Xue opened her mouth to curse her husband, but the words died on her lips.

Baicheng Xue turned to Xie Huanling with a smile. “A beauty in the making, I see.”

“Indeed, Master Bai, this village girl has her own unique charm,” the burly man replied.

Baicheng Xue nodded, jesting, “Business first—once we have what we came for, the rest is yours.”

Suddenly—

Heavenly Sound Wave! A flash of white light erupted.

Thunder Break! The air shuddered with thunderous roars.

The monk, unnoticed until now, struck without warning. Several burly men fell instantly, while Baicheng Xue retreated, sustaining a minor wound.

“May I ask who you are?” Fending off Xue Xiaoyu, who had also acted, Baicheng Xue demanded coldly, “From Grand Buddha Temple, or Bitter Heart Mountain?”

Xue Xiaoyu stood and shouted, “This is my brother, Li Qing!”