Chapter Fifty-Seven: Inside and Out

In the endless void of darkness, a colossal immortal sword radiating divine brilliance stood in absolute stillness. Thick sword aura swirled around it, like a slender, elongated planet enveloped in a beautiful nebula—at once breathtaking and infused with a sense of sacred solemnity.

Zhou Yu could feel the overwhelming sword intent emanating from it, stirring a spontaneous affection within him—a yearning to reach out and touch it, to draw closer.

But just then, a faint green energy emerged from the darkness. Upon noticing Zhou Yu, it seemed to let out an elated cry and surged eagerly toward him.

The pale green energy enveloped Zhou Yu, streaming continuously into his body. His outstretched right hand froze midair. As more of the green energy poured in, his senses gradually cleared. His body felt indescribably comfortable, every pore exuding a sense of refreshment, as if he had just received a soothing massage. Meanwhile, the light radiating from the immortal sword and the shimmering colors swirling around it began to fade, and the darkness of the void slowly receded.

Lying on the meadow, Zhou Yu let out a soft, contented sigh, and his closed eyes slowly fluttered open.

The sky was somewhat dim; white clouds lingered quietly in the azure expanse, and a few blades of wild grass, swaying gently in the breeze, brushed his face with their slender leaves.

Feeling a tickle on his face, Zhou Yu reached out and gently brushed aside the drooping grass. His gaze landed on a blade that, with its serrated edge and sharply pointed tip, suddenly reminded him of a sword. Abruptly, Zhou Yu shot up into a sitting position.

He quickly looked around and did not see Liu Wujian anywhere. In the spot where Liu Wujian had once stood, there was now a massive, deep pit. Seated limply within the crater was a man with disheveled hair, his arms dangling at his sides.

Hua Quenyue looked terrible: his clothes were torn and bloodstained, his arms bore obvious and severe injuries…

Yet his eyes remained as bright as ever—brighter even than before. He fixed his gaze on Zhou Yu and, in a voice barely above a whisper, asked, “You’re awake?”

Zhou Yu glanced around again but found no sign of Liu Yueming; only Abuli lay a short distance away. Zhou Yu stood up, first checking on Abuli. Though Abuli’s breathing was weak, it was steady, and his wounds had begun to heal—no more bleeding. Zhou Yu felt a wave of relief.

“What happened?” Zhou Yu brushed grass and dirt from his body and flashed over to Hua Quenyue’s side.

Hua Quenyue gave a wry smile. “You fainted. I arrived and fought Liu Wujian, but I lost. Then Elder Jin and Grand Elder Tianxing arrived. Liu Wujian retreated, and those two went after him.”

Zhou Yu let out a long sigh of relief. That was close—Liu Wujian had clearly made a move against him, yet he’d somehow survived by sheer luck.

“How are you?” Zhou Yu asked.

“Ruined,” Hua Quenyue replied, managing a weak shake of his arms and a forced smile.

Zhou Yu was about to offer some words of comfort, but Hua Quenyue spoke again: “First, we need to return to the Spirit Realm. I didn’t wake you up just to give you a report.”

“One last question—where’s Liu Yueming?”

“Gone.”

“Gone where?”

“How should I know? Just get me back to the Spirit Realm—can’t you see how badly I’m hurt?”

…

…

“Weren’t you the best at healing? I remember when all my meridians were destroyed, you were the one who treated and nursed me back to health,” Zhou Yu said, carrying Abuli on his back and cradling Hua Quenyue as he walked across the grassland under the setting sun.

“My hands are useless. I can’t form seals,” Hua Quenyue replied, sounding weary.

Zhou Yu watched as Hua Quenyue’s eyes grew more and more drowsy, and an inexplicable worry crept into his heart. He recalled scenes from movies where characters in similar situations would shout, “Don’t sleep! Hang in there!” So Zhou Yu gave the man in his arms a vigorous shake and shouted, “Don’t sleep! You have to hold on!”

Startled by the jolt, Hua Quenyue’s wounds throbbed with pain, and he gritted his teeth in agony. His eyes snapped open, burning like twin flames. “Dammit! That hurts like hell!”

Seeing Hua Quenyue awake and seemingly spirited, Zhou Yu thought the method worked and gave him another shake, saying, “You must hang in there! We’ll be there soon! Just hold on!”

But this time, Hua Quenyue’s eyes rolled back and he passed out cold—whether from the shaking, anger, or sheer exasperation, it was hard to tell.

…

…

Back in the Spirit Realm, Abuli and Hua Quenyue gradually awoke under the realm’s healing. Zhou Yu was by Abuli’s side at the time.

“Zhou from China, you’ve saved me again.”

“How do you feel, Abuli?” Zhou Yu asked.

“I think I’m fine—just very tired. I’d like to rest, maybe sleep a while. Oh, by the way…” Abuli hesitated.

Zhou Yu, a bit puzzled, scratched his head. “What is it?”

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Nan Fengxiaolang’s voice: “May I come in?”

At the sound of her voice, a faint smile appeared on Abuli’s face, and he whispered, “Never mind.”

Zhou Yu replied with an “Oh,” then rose to open the door, only to find that Nan Fengxiaolang wasn’t alone—Morrison stood outside as well.

Morrison stood in the corridor like a towering iron fortress; his very presence exuded an imposing aura.

Nan Fengxiaolang offered Zhou Yu a respectful greeting before stepping inside. Zhou Yu nodded in return, then turned to Morrison.

“Still no news?” Zhou Yu asked.

“The Spirit Realm has dispatched many to search for the missing cultivators. Some have been found, some returned on their own, but as for your master—there’s been no word,” Morrison replied, arms crossed. He turned to Zhou Yu. “What are you planning to do?”

After some thought, Zhou Yu replied, “I’ll wait here until my master returns.”

“And if he never comes?”

“Then I’ll go find him myself.”

Morrison shook his head. “Don’t forget our mission—we still have to return to save Earth.”

Zhou Yu fell silent for a moment before suddenly raising his head, meeting Morrison’s sharp gaze. “You make it sound like science fiction, but damn it, everything that’s happened feels more like a fantasy epic to me.”

“What?” Morrison was taken aback by Zhou Yu’s sudden non-sequitur.

“Zhou Yu, I don’t know what you’re rambling about, but I believe—even if you’re not destined to be the savior, you are fated to be a guardian.” Morrison pressed on.

“I’ve been observing closely. So far, only you, Abuli, and I have experienced further changes,” Morrison said, a note of excitement in his voice.

“What kind of changes?” Zhou Yu asked.

“Haven’t you noticed your powerful healing abilities? Mine have grown stronger too, and Abuli as well. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but sometimes Abuli emits a faint yellow glow. Though it’s pale, it gives me a sense of awe, like I must worship it,” Morrison’s eyes shone with excitement.

Zhou Yu felt somewhat bewildered—talking with Morrison was never easy—so he asked, “So what are you planning to do?”

“I’m going to follow the Beast Sect,” Morrison replied.

The answer startled Zhou Yu, who lowered his voice anxiously, “Are you insane?”

Morrison lifted his wristwatch. “Relax—no one else is around. I have my reasons for joining the Beast Sect. I told you before: in the search for, or the becoming of, the Shura King, a crucial step is acquiring immense power—power only sacred beasts possess. The Beast Sect understands sacred beasts best and has the greatest chance of finding them. So I must go.”

“But Zuo—”

“No one knows it was me. In fact, his death gives me a perfect opportunity,” Morrison said.

“I still feel uneasy, though I can’t say why…”

Suddenly, a crystalline laugh rang out from the room behind them. Zhou Yu glanced inside, then turned back, annoyed. “If you go to the Beast Sect, what about all these other travelers? Don’t tell me you’re dumping this mess on me?”

Morrison patted his chest. “Not at all. They’ll follow Abuli, and you will protect and assist him.”

Zhou Yu feigned indignation. “Damn! So after all that, I’m just supposed to be his muscle and lackey?”

Morrison’s face suddenly grew serious. “Someone’s coming.”

He quickly strode down the corridor, disappearing around the corner. Because he was joining the Beast Sect, Morrison couldn’t be seen getting too close to Zhou Yu. In the eyes of outsiders, they were still mortal enemies; any sudden show of camaraderie would arouse suspicion.

Footsteps sounded behind him, accompanied by a waft of delicate fragrance.

Zhou Yu didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Nan Fenglang approached in a plain blue robe, graceful as an otherworldly fairy.

Zhou Yu turned to her and sighed lightly. “I never imagined that even in ancient attire, Teacher Cang would possess such unique charm.”

“Teacher Cang? What nonsense are you spouting?” Nan Fenglang pouted as she drew closer.

“It’s just…you look a lot like a teacher I used to know,” Zhou Yu replied, rubbing his nose awkwardly.

“A teacher?” Nan Fenglang frowned, pondering for a moment. Then she said gravely, “I have something important to ask you. Could we speak somewhere private?”

Seeing the seriousness in her expression, Zhou Yu nodded. “Of course.”