“Dijun…”
Chu Yanchuan raised his hand, made a seal, and attacked forward. Yu Linyun, who was one step away, instantly dissipated. He put down his hand, and Jing Feirong turned around and looked at him with tears in his eyes. Chu Yanchuan said, “Your Highness, the illusion disturbs your mind. Come with me.”
They ran towards the crack in the illusion behind them. Jing Feirong took a step, but at that moment, the two people’s tightly held hands suddenly loosened. With a blank heart, Jing Feirong looked back and saw only a piece of snow-white clothing. The crack closed, and Jing Feirong fell back to the Withered Swamp, while Chu Yanchuan was trapped in the illusion.
Jing Feirong heard him say, “I don’t believe that Linyun will be possessed by a demon.”
Chu Yanchuan didn’t believe that Yu Linyun was swallowed, so he still wanted Chi Tuo to die. Jing Feirong tightly grasped the holy sword, raised his arm, and swung the sword towards Chi Tuo. The blade sank into his left shoulder. Chi Tuo screamed to break free from the shackles, and the demon spirit resisted stubbornly. Jing Feize flew into the seal to find the dragon vein and soul. Yu Cang and Hei Wuchang held the formation to trap him.
Jing Feiyun led his troops back, and now he didn’t care why they wanted to open the seal. He entered the Withered Swamp and stood in one of the triangles instead of Chu Yanchuan. Jing Feirong stared at Chi Tuo and said word by word, “Open the illusion.”
Once Chi Tuo died, the illusion would dissipate, and Chu Yanchuan would be able to escape. But Jing Feirong was unwilling to take such a risk, he wanted to see Chu Yanchuan come out of the illusion intact and then completely eliminate Chi Tuo.
“Don’t even think about it…” Chi Tuo raised his head and laughed, with scarlet blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “If I die, he won’t be able to leave the illusion and will be trapped here forever.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Chi Tuo opened his arms and released the demon spirits wantonly, like blazing flames, and the barrier of the withered swamp was actually burned and cracked. The barrier was connected to Jing Feirong’s soul, and it was torn apart by the collision. Jing Feirong suddenly had a splitting headache, and he dropped the holy sword and fell to the ground. He pressed his temples and clenched his teeth without making a sound, but his body kept curling up and twitching, his veins were stretched, and the dragon scales were about to break through his flesh and blood.
Jing Feiyun and the others were anxious but helpless. If the formation was flawed at this time, Chi Tuo would surely break free from the shackles. After the barrier was destroyed, the demon spirits flew into various parts of the Demon Realm, growing their scattered demon cultivation. The battle was overwhelming, and the heavenly soldiers and underworld generals suffered heavy losses. Jing Feize was also unable to resist the seal of the heavy demon energy, and he was struggling to find the dragon vein and soul.
Jing Feirong could no longer bear to watch the evil spirits spread everywhere, he raised his hand with difficulty to summon the totem, accepting the backlash, and letting his soul be shattered. Seven thousand years of cultivation plus the evil-suppressing totem were enough to suppress Chi Tuo again—as long as Chi Tuo was not dead, Chu Yanchuan would have a chance to escape from the illusion, he only hoped that Jing Feize would find his father’s soul as soon as possible.
“Feirong!” Jing Feize was no longer able to support himself when he stepped out of the seal. He knelt on the ground and spat out blood, but he was holding tightly onto half of the dragon vein and the blue soul in his hands. He shouted to Jing Feirong, “Found it…”
The moment he saw the soul, Jing Feiyun suddenly opened his eyes wide, and countless distant memories flooded into his mind like sea water. It was everything about Yu Linyun.
“Father…” Jing Feiyun murmured blankly.
Jing Feirong did not hesitate any longer and threw the totem from his palm into the sky, covering the entire Withered Swamp. The evil spirits within the land were suppressed again and could no longer escape. Jing Feirong slowly stood up, staggering silently chanting the formula to summon the Eclipse Holy Sword, which broke away from Chi Tuo and flew through the air into his hands.
Blood was gushing out of his ears and mouth, as well as from his nose. He could no longer hear anything, but gave the order in a stern voice: “Set up the formation, and use the Demon Seal to suppress Chi Tuo again!”
After saying this, Jing Feirong raised his sword and injected all his cultivation into it, stabbing Chi Tuo with all his strength, while Yu Cang and the others opened the seal, waited for Chi Tuo to return to his position, and repressed him. The Dragon Spirit Divine Cultivation was like a tidal wave, eroding and weakening Chi Tuo’s cultivation, forcing him to retreat back under the seal. However, just as Chi Tuo was about to be sealed, everyone saw a dazzling blue light emanating from his chest, like long thorns, illuminating the sky of the Demon Realm.
A powerful spiritual energy followed, and Jing Feirong and the others were all knocked to the ground, like a huge wave passing over them, and no one could resist for a while. Jing Feirong’s ears were damaged, and he could no longer hear any sound. He could not hear Chi Tuo’s dying roar, the painful groans of the others, or the battle between the gods and demons outside the land, but he heard Chu Yanchuan’s voice, not in his ears but in his mind.
He heard Chu Yanchuan say, “I wonder if Your Highness still remembers the evergreen tree on Suliang Mountain.”
When they opened their eyes again, through their blurred vision, they saw that Chi Tuo’s demonic energy had dissipated like smoke, leaving only the lifeless body of the emperor falling to the ground.
The ancient demon was finally destroyed, but Jing Feirong had no time to care about it. He stumbled to his feet and staggered around the seal, trying to sense with his remaining spiritual power, but found no trace of Chu Yanchuan.
“Dijun… Dijun…” Jing Feirong muttered absentmindedly. Someone came to help him. It was Yu Cang. Jing Feirong grabbed his collar and asked him with red eyes, “Where is Dijun? My cultivation is not good enough… I can’t find him… you help me, alright?”
Yu Cang just looked at him in embarrassment, his eyes bloodshot, without saying a word.
“Speak, speak ah!” Jing Feirong gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks. He questioned Yu Cang in a hoarse voice, “You knew this a long time ago… don’t you?”
Did he know that Chu Yanchuan would die?
Jing Feirong thought Chu Yanchuan was gambling with the people and thought he chose Yu Linyun over the Six Realms, but Chu Yanchuan still didn’t make such a choice this time—he removed both the Six Realms and Yu Linyun from the choice, just like he had done for 7,000 years, leaving only himself and Chi Tuo. He had already decided to die, and he wanted Chi Tuo to die too, he didn’t want to leave trouble for the Six Realms.
Chi Tuo was gone, the illusion was gone, and Chu Yanchuan was gone too—the blue light bursting from Chi Tuo’s chest was the spiritual power that Chu Yanchuan had dissipated when he was annihilated in the illusion. He didn’t want to suppress it, he would perish together with Chi Tuo.
Jing Feirong still remembered what Chu Yanchuan said before the battle: If you lose, the fault is mine. At that time, he promised Chu Yanchuan that he would not lose, but he lost, so all the bad consequences were attributed to Chu Yanchuan.
Yu Cang remained silent. Jing Feirong slowly kneeled on his knees, raised his hands to cover his blood-stained face, and tears slipped through his fingers.
The war-torn Demon Realm seemed to return to peace in an instant. A slight rustling sound was heard in the air, and tiny pieces of white fell.
It’s snowing.
There has been no rain or snow in the demon realm for thousands of years, but it snowed tonight.
The ground was a mess, and Jing Feirong’s ears were dead silent. His ears were damaged, and he could not hear any sound. He could only recall the words, “I wonder if Your Highness still remembers the evergreen tree in Suliang Mountain”. That was probably what Chu Yanchuan sent into his mind with the last bit of his spiritual power.
Jing Feirong let go of his hand, wiped his tears, and slowly stood up, stumbling towards the outside of the withered swamp. Passing by Jing Feize, he staggered and stood still, looking at the dragon vein and soul in his elder brother’s hand. That was the result that Chu Yanchuan had been waiting for for many years.
“The dragon vein… is left to father. Thanks for Big Brother’s hard work on the resurrection matter.” Jing Feirong couldn’t hear his own voice, so he could only speak based on his feelings. “I… I’ll go to Suliang Mountain to take a look. Dijun might… might be waiting for me there.”
“Feirong…” Jing Feize held him back with a hoarse voice. “You…”
Jing Feirong shook his head. He couldn’t hear anything anyway, so he might as well not care. He gently broke away from Jing Feize’s hand and walked forward without looking back. The holy sword followed behind him. One man and one sword walked away into the distance.
Suliang Mountain was still as cold and windy as ever. The sacred tree that had been lush and green since before the creation of the world no longer had a single leaf left. The lush branches and leaves, the meadows and mountain flowers under the shade of the tree, were all covered with snow. Overnight, they had lost their original appearance. Jing Feirong stood under the tree and reached out to touch the trunk. It was cold, not as warm as before. There was no spirit in it.
The wind was strong, and the snow was heavy, blowing the lantern and brocade bag on the branch to pieces. Jing Feirong reached out and took them down. The brocade bag was full of white peach preserves, and the lantern was the pear blossom lantern that Jing Feirong had personally given to Chu Yanchuan by the river during the Lantern Festival.
Jing Feirong never thought that Chu Yanchuan would keep this lantern forever.
There was a roll of paper in the center of the lantern. Jing Feirong pushed aside the snow and took it out to open it. The handwriting on it was neat and clear: The night lights are lit in the cold, and we talk and laugh for a long time.
He hopes that the Fifth Prince will never have to grow up.
It’s not that he won’t grow up, but that he doesn’t have to, he doesn’t need to grow up, he doesn’t need to force himself to take on the so-called responsibilities, he doesn’t have to face accusations and hurt, he doesn’t have to bear heavy burdens at an age when he should be carefree. This is Chu Yanchuan’s wish. He doesn’t want Jing Feirong to get hurt. He selfishly wants him to be free and loved forever. Dijun was selfish only once in his life, and it was written on paper in this short sentence.
His wish never came true, and he became the most painful scar on Jing Feirong, the bleeding one. Jing Feirong fell in love with him and tried his best to climb over the mountain, wanting to hug him and possess him, but in the end, he was only covered in cold snow, standing on the vast ice field like a dream.
From the very beginning, Chu Yanchuan was heading for such an ending. He had anticipated it and knew it well, while Jing Feirong was kept in the dark and was completely unaware.
Jing Feirong kneeled in front of the tree, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse, tears falling silently to the ground. He said, “Chu Yanchuan, you are so cruel.”
You know I love you, why do you want to leave me?
You know I can’t forget you, but why do you let me know that you are the sacred tree that grew up with me?
The cold wind was whimpering in his ears, but Jing Feirong could not hear anything. His eyes were pale as he recalled the day of his wedding, when Chu Yanchuan was dressed in red and looked more beautiful than snow, but he had been hiding in Zhuling drinking for a whole day and had never even glanced at him.
Why didn’t he take more look at him?
