5: Master...?

With the Sect Master's order, the entire Qingyao Sect instantly went into high-speed operation.

Among the cloud-shrouded peaks, countless streaks of sword light shot up from various Immortal Caves and halls, converging into torrents in the sky, spreading out around the mountain range as commanded, forming a vast, inescapable net.

Elders in seclusion were startled, and the elite Disciples of the inner sect poured out.

For a time, streams of light wove across the sky above the Qingyao Mountain Range, and Killing Intent soared to the heavens.

All the Disciples were filled with shock and doubt.

Who on earth could make the Sect Master, whose heart had been as still as water for a hundred years, issue such a no-holds-barred pursuit order?

Yet, at the center of this great net, the target of the pursuit—Su Lin—was not fleeing in panic as they imagined.

He endured his injuries, moving through the dense forest.

His steps were not fast, but he always managed to perfectly avoid the Divine Sense sweeping across the sky, always hiding a step ahead in the crevices of rocks or the dead corners of Formations.

Many of these mountain-patrolling Formations were set up by Mu Qingxue based on his teachings from back then.

For him, finding these flaws was as simple as breathing.

He did not flee the Qingyao Mountain Range; instead, he headed towards the deeper, more desolate back mountain.

There, stood a long-abandoned dilapidated temple...

Inside the Sect Master's main hall, Mu Qingxue stood alone, clutching the cold half of the jade pendant tightly in her hand.

The temperature of the jade pendant, seeping into her Bloodline through her palm, reminded her of how warm the large hand that placed the pendant in her palm a hundred years ago had been.

"Report! Sect Master, the search three hundred li to the east yielded no results!"

"Report! The Formation to the south showed no activation!"

"Report! The target... the target seems to have vanished into thin air!"

As messages poured in, Mu Qingxue's brow furrowed tighter and tighter.

The anger in her heart did not subside with the passage of time; instead, it became even more chaotic, stirred by an inexplicable emotion.

How was that possible?

A mere Core Formation Stage cultivator, even with some stealthy techniques, how could he disappear without a trace under her inescapable net?

This defied logic.

An ordinary swindler or thief should have been scared witless by now, desperately fleeing outwards.

But according to the residual traces of Divine Sense, he... he was still within the mountain range, even moving deeper.

What did he want to do? Who exactly was he?

Countless thoughts churned in Mu Qingxue's mind; reason told her that this was absolutely an unprecedented, huge conspiracy.

But the familiar aura emanating from the jade pendant, and the fleeting, seemingly genuine sadness in that person's eyes, were like a tiny needle, repeatedly pricking her already scarred heart.

Hope is the most potent poison in the world. She had understood that a hundred years ago.

"I can't be fooled again..." she murmured to herself, the struggle in her eyes finally turning into a frosty chill.

Rather than passively waiting here, it was better to go and resolve it herself.

She wanted to personally capture that person, tear open all his disguises, and make him pay the most agonizing price for blaspheming her Revered Master!

Mu Qingxue's figure moved, instantly vanishing from the hall.

The next moment, she had appeared high in the sky, ten thousand feet up.

The Divine Sense of a Void Refining Stage cultivator spread out without reservation, like mercury flowing across the ground, sweeping over every inch of the mountain range.

Following the direction where that aura ultimately disappeared, she transformed into a streak of light and sped away.

However, as she flew, she unconsciously deviated from her direction.

A secluded path, a road deeply buried in her memories.

She didn't know why she was flying this way; she just instinctively felt that something here... seemed to be drawing her.

Passing through a wild forest overgrown with thorns, ahead, the outline of a dilapidated temple stood silently.

The moment she saw that ruined temple, Mu Qingxue's heart leaped without warning, and an inexplicable, bitter emotion surged within her.

How long... had it been since she last came here?

Ever since Revered Master left, this place had become a Forbidden Ground she dared not touch.

And at this moment, beneath the long-blurred Buddha statue, a desolate figure stood quietly, as if he had been waiting for a very, very long time.

Mu Qingxue's figure slowly landed in the temple courtyard, making no sound.

The lingering glow of the setting sun stretched their shadows long.

One stood outside the temple, her aura cold, as if facing a formidable enemy.

The other stood before the Buddha, his aura faint, as calm as still water.

Su Lin did not turn around; he knew she had arrived.

"You certainly pick your spots well."

Mu Qingxue's voice broke the silence, carrying a hint of hoarseness she herself hadn't noticed.

"Do you think hiding here will make me soft-hearted?"

She approached step by step, her powerful aura already locking onto Su Lin.

"I'm asking you one last time, who exactly are you? What is your purpose? Where did you steal this jade pendant from!"

Su Lin did not answer her questions.

He simply turned around slowly, looking at her calmly. Then, his gaze passed over her and landed on the stone Buddha behind her, its features long eroded by wind and rain.

With a tone full of immense nostalgia and endless sorrow, he softly said:

"Back then, I told Little Seven here that gods and Buddhas cannot save mortals; what can save her is only herself and the sword in her hand."

"It seems she learned very well..."

These two sentences, like a thunderclap spanning a hundred years, exploded without warning deep within Mu Qingxue's mind!

These words, this scene, this teaching... This was what her Revered Master had whispered to her alone, with a smile yet utmost seriousness, on a boring afternoon long ago, when she had just come of age and was making a wish before the Buddha statue.

"Clang—"

With a crisp sound, the immortal sword that had accompanied her for a hundred years, slain countless enemies, and never left her side, slipped from her trembling hand and fell onto the cold stone slab.

The immense pressure and chill emanating from her, enough to freeze heaven and earth, instantly crumbled like ice and snow under the sun, vanishing without a trace.

Mu Qingxue stood rooted to the spot, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes, which had been as placid as ancient wells for millennia, now surged with monstrous waves.

Shock, ecstasy, grievance, fear, longing... A hundred years of time, a hundred years of solitude, a hundred years of strength, a hundred years of pretense, were utterly shattered by these two sentences at this moment.

She desperately tried to maintain her dignity as the Lord of Qingyao, trying to tell herself with reason that this was impossible, that this might be some more sophisticated illusion, a more malicious conspiracy by an enemy.

But that gaze... that tone... that unique tenderness and helplessness of his... was it fake?

If even this was fake, then what in this world was real?

"Revered Master...?"