Is It Over?
Is It Over?
When he rushed to Jingxue-Jun's location, all he found was countless righteous cultivators with their swords unsheathed, besieging a lone figure clad in light blue robe and a sword as ivory as a snow. All around him were curses, "Kill! Kill him! Kill the demonic cultivator! Kill the traitor!!"
His eyes turned red and before he knew it, he drew his own sword out too. Not to fight Jingxue-Jun, but to hold those righteous cultivators who had come for his life in the name of justice and Heaven. Alas before he could even take one step forward, his arm was forcefully grabbed from behind, "What are you doing?!"
He did not have the time to examine the brief déjà vu that flashed through his mind because his entire attention was focused on the person who was holding him back. It was the inner disciple who always visited him in the Lingyan Sect.
He had not seen the other for a few months, and the man had changed beyond comparison. His height shot up like a bamboo, his shoulders broadened and his features became more angular. He could not even begin to guess why the disciple was here because he was too consumed by irritation and impatience. He had to get to Jingxue-Jun as quickly as possible, or else…
"Let go," he scowled.
"No! Are you going to send yourself to death?! Do you think you're stronger than everyone here?!"
His scowl deepened. He knew that he wouldn't be able to win against all these elite cultivators, but how could he sit still and watch as harm came to those whom he was supposed to protect?! But before he could brush the disciple off, the sky abruptly dimmed and golden lightning weaved through the dark clouds.
"...Heavenly tribulation?"
"Who has triggered their heavenly tribulation at a time like this?!"
"Oh my God, look at Jingxue-Jun, what is he doing?!"
The alarm inside his mind blared louder. He forcefully shook the disciple's grip off him and flew straight to the eye of the storm. Yet once again… he was too late. He could only watch helplessly as Jingxue-Jun put up a barrier and summoned the gate of the demonic realm, he could only watch as Heimo cried and begged for him to stop and in the end, he could only watch as… Jingxue-Jun sacrificed his life to kill the righteous cultivators for Heimo's sake.
He dropped his sword in a clatter, his face ashen. Why… Why couldn't he do anything for them? Why could he only watch from the sidelines when they were separated again and again?
—Wait… again? Where did that thought come from?
He was rooted in place, stunned. He sensed someone approaching him from behind but he did not turn around. That person gingerly reached out to hold his trembling fist and said softly, "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. Next time… it will be different next time."
He turned around so fast that he almost got a whiplash, "What do you mean by that? Do you know something?" He scrutinized the man in front of him as if it was the first time he had ever seen him.
But the disciple merely offered him a faint smile, "Perhaps," he said in a mysterious tone.
Since then, the cultivation world suffered a major decline by the death of hundreds talented righteous cultivators. In exchange, Luqiu Sect, which was founded by two Luqiu sisters, flourished and became the biggest sect in the world.
After Jingxue-Jun's death, he cut ties with the Lingyan Sect and decided to become a rogue cultivator. The disciple followed him too. He could not describe his feelings when he discovered it. There was not much surprise, it was as if he had already seen this coming.
As if that was how it had always been – this man, following behind his footsteps.
This time, he did not push the man away.
Together, they roamed the world as rogue cultivators and helped common people. When he got news that Heimo was searching for Kunlun Mirror, he made it his lifelong goal to help him. Perhaps it was out of guilt for failing to save Jingxue-Jun, or perhaps it was because of increasingly louder voices inside his mind that told him to aid Heimo as much as he could.
Either way, three people searching for it would be more effective than one.
In the end, it still took them ten years to find it. He caught the news from a secular master and secretly leaked it to Heimo, letting him know the location of the Kunlun Mirror he had been desperately searching for.
On the day when Heimo climbed up the Kunlun Mountain, he and the disciple stood on the base, staring at Heimo's back that was gradually becoming smaller and smaller.
Once again, the disciple reached out to hold his hand and he shook him off in lieu of entangling their fingers together. They had been traveling the world together for a decade. They never made a vow to become cultivation partners, but it did not mean that they did not know each other's heartfelt feelings. No words needed to be said. This solid presence, constant companion and the warmth that held his hand… it was already more than enough.
"Is it over?" He asked, his gaze wandered to the faraway sky as if he could catch a glimpse of Heaven beyond the clouds.
The disciple said nothing, only squeezing his hand tighter as if in comfort.
They lingered around the base of the mountain for a week. Until one day, the originally calm sky turned turbulent all of a sudden. Sensing something, he abruptly lifted his gaze and saw that the entire mountain was shaking. No, not only the mountain, even the ground beneath his feet was shaking and cracks started to form in the sky… as if the world was falling apart.
He gripped the disciple's hand tighter to stabilize himself. His brows furrowed in concern and anxiety. "What's wrong? Did something happen to him?"
"No…" the person beside him replied with a light exhale. "He succeeded."
"What…" Before he could even ask what the disciple meant by that, a loud explosion erupted nearby and the mountain suddenly split into two without warning, swallowing the two of them inside!
"Ah—!" He cried out in shock. Amidst the intense feeling of weightlessness, he perceived someone taking him into their powerful embrace, their arms tightly wrapped around his body as they plunged into the abyss of nothingness.