Chapter Seventy-One: Memories of Water and Moon Like the Passing Wind (Third Update) (0.2)

The wilderness stretched out, desolate and bare. Only two remained: the cold-faced woman stood dumbfounded, while Wu Yue wore an expression that spoke of confirmation.

“Your name is Scarlet Sleeve?” Wu Yue asked.

The cold-faced woman nodded quickly, her face aglow with hope. There was an odd charm to her, a kind of endearing disarray in her bearing.

Wu Yue shrugged. “I’m nothing but an empty shell now. If he’d pressed just a little harder, I would’ve fallen.”

“Then how did they—?” Scarlet Sleeve’s disbelief was plain on her face.

“Ever heard of the Empty City Ruse?”

“No.”

“You don’t know Zhuge Liang?”

“No.”

“Never mind. They’ll be back soon enough,” Wu Yue said. “It won’t take them long to realize something’s off.”

“Then... should we run?” The word “run” was spoken with palpable reluctance.

“We’d never outrun them. While we still have a moment, why don’t you tell me a story? Start with your history with Black Cloud Stronghold.” Wu Yue looked at Scarlet Sleeve, noticing the birthmark on her face seemed to have grown, its color deepening. “I have a score to settle with Black Cloud Stronghold as well—seems we share a common enemy.”

The grudge was real. When Wu Yue first arrived in the Immortal Spirit Realm, he descended into a small village, possessing the body of Xie Huanshu. In the end, Bai Chengxue herself annihilated Black Cloud Stronghold, remarking that it was far more complicated than it seemed. So much time had passed that Wu Yue had nearly forgotten the incident.

But just recently, he had been pursued several times. Each wave of pursuers was wiped out, yet he couldn’t glean any useful information from them. Wu Yue kept wondering which old enemy he might have offended.

It wasn’t until Scarlet Sleeve shouted out the name Black Cloud Stronghold moments ago that realization dawned. He still held a technological vat, a legacy from Xie’s father, which Black Cloud Stronghold coveted. So it turned out Black Cloud Stronghold was a bandit group—a sprawling organization with schemes and accomplices.

Perhaps Wu Yue’s composure gave Scarlet Sleeve strength, for she began her tale in a gentle, steady voice.

She had a master named Abbess Water Moon, a loose cultivator of one hundred and eighty years, whose reputation matched her strength and fierce hatred of evil. Together, master and disciple wandered the land, cultivating and doing good deeds wherever they went. Life was pleasant enough. After all, the two were good-looking, skilled, and kind-hearted.

But that made them targets. As they once passed Black Cloud Stronghold, one of its leaders took a fancy to Abbess Water Moon. This leader, being somewhat cultured, refused to resort to force. “A fair maiden is a gentleman’s desire—what crime is there in that?” So he began his zealous pursuit.

“You wish to rid the world of evil? I’ll help you—let’s sweep away every villain together. You want to wander the land? I’ll make sure you lack for nothing. You want to debate the Dao? I’ve recently had some insights myself. Wherever you go, I’ll ensure you feel my boundless devotion.”

He spared no effort—public opinion was skillfully manipulated, until all were saying, “Did you hear? Abbess Water Moon is set to marry that fellow from Black Cloud Stronghold!”

When her friends began to spread the rumor, Abbess Water Moon, known for her fiery temper, could not endure it. She led her friends straight to Black Cloud Stronghold and slapped the leader in front of everyone—a grievous offense, considering both were prominent figures with many subordinates watching.

Things turned sour. Harsh words flew, and the atmosphere grew colder. The leader, his pride wounded, made a bold threat: “Water Moon, if you won’t have me, nobody here will leave alive!”—or something to that effect.

Naturally, tragedy ensued. Abbess Water Moon, never one to yield to force, responded coldly, “I’ve long known Black Cloud Stronghold is a den of evil. Today, I’ll wipe you out.” She attacked then and there.

A war of words became a battle of blades, and chaos ensued. Worse yet, Abbess Water Moon was defeated—an unbearable disgrace for someone of her temperament. True to her unbending nature, she chose self-destruction, taking the Black Cloud leader with her.

The fight turned brutal. Though heaven and earth favored neither side, when it came to terrain and manpower, Black Cloud Stronghold had the upper hand. Abbess Water Moon’s followers were nearly wiped out on the spot. Scarlet Sleeve, caught in the melee, was cursed with the Bloodblight and barely escaped with the survivors.

Of course, revenge became her only purpose. But things only grew bleaker. Old friends and fellow cultivators—those who once debated the Dao with her—became evasive.

Their meaning was clear: “Abbess Water Moon and I were as close as sisters. Of course, her death must be avenged. But... can’t we wait a while? What? We can’t? Oh dear, I’ve had a stomachache lately.” That was the more polite response.

Others shut their doors entirely, claiming to be in seclusion or traveling. “You saw him earlier? Must’ve been his brother.”

In a few short months, Scarlet Sleeve had tasted the full bitterness of human fickleness. Her own boldness drew Black Cloud Stronghold’s attention.

“And then, you remembered that Old Cripple Wen Bai owed your master a favor for a divination, so you sought him out, hoping he’d help you avenge her. Instead, you found me—someone who’s lost all his cultivation and is now even weaker than an ordinary person.”

Scarlet Sleeve nodded, her expression dark.

It was a story steeped in sorrow, yet Wu Yue had to suppress a smile. Something about this script felt off.

“The debt of a slain master must be repaid,” Scarlet Sleeve said, eyes blazing with hatred, her teeth clenched.

“Of course,” Wu Yue said softly. “Time’s almost up. Now—strike my Heavenly Pivot and Confluence points, three times each, with all your strength.”

“You’re sure? Those are the foundation points of the Dao!” Scarlet Sleeve was bewildered.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Wu Yue replied, not elaborating.

Suddenly, the thunder of hooves echoed in the distance.

“Quickly, now!” Wu Yue glanced at Scarlet Sleeve and stood upright, arms at his sides.

“Since things are already in chaos, I may as well boil you all in the pot,” a cold gleam flashed in Wu Yue’s eyes. Ruthlessness was never something he lacked, whether toward others or himself.

Scarlet Sleeve hesitated.

The horses drew near.

Wu Yue sighed. “I have no wish to become a pair of doomed lovers with you. That would be too great a loss—think of my handsome face.”

Scarlet Sleeve struck, her palms fierce and true.

“Where do you think you’re going! Wu Yue, you dare make a fool of me? Today, you die!” The killer intent in Hou Baiyu’s voice was immense—after all, fleeing in terror at a single phrase was a grave humiliation.

“I’m not running.” Wu Yue stood firm, gathering his breath...