Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Title

Qiu Huayi: "A’shang!"

Mu Huaiyun: "Qingshang!!"

The turn of events was so swift Ye Qingshang barely registered their desperate cries. She looked down numbly at the hand impaling her chest, blood streaking her wrist in grotesque patterns.

Ignoring the pain radiating through her body, she thought: What hurt more than trust shattered beyond repair? Tears welled uncontrollably. She longed to clutch Ning Jiwei’s sleeve like a child, to find even a flicker of his former gentleness. She tried to call out…

_Master…_

He’d taught her the apprenticeship bows were sacred vows. He’d instilled in her the values of justice and cultivation, insisting growth mattered more than glory. How could the master she revered become this?

Her outstretched hand faltered, falling limply to her side. Mouth open, no words emerged—only a shattered gaze fixed on the man she’d once worshiped.

A deity had fallen into the mortal mire, stained by filth beyond cleansing.

"Master…" Mu Rongyan uttered mournfully nearby.

Memories flooded him: Ning Jiwei’s glacial expression days prior, as if Ye Qingshang meant nothing—a life to be extinguished casually.

The disciple he had raised for ten years—a full decade—how could he have borne to do this?

"A’yan, do something for me," Ning Jiwei had said at that time.

Mu Rongyan assumed it was an ordinary request, pledging he’d go to hell and back. Yet Ning Jiwei’s next words stunned him: "Qingshang’s inner core is exceptionally strong. It would be beneficial to claim it. After her master’s crowning ceremony, help me kill her."

Mu Rongyan’s shock mirrored Ye Qingshang’s own disbelief. But reality proved Ning Jiwei had truly changed, hidden beneath a facade no one noticed.

So Mu Rongyan yielded. His cultivation and spiritual power were gifts from Ning Jiwei. Even if killing a fellow disciple ruined him, he owed Ning Jiwei a clear name and a life of glory.

Falling into disgrace—Mu Rongyan alone would suffice.

But fate intervened. Ning Jiwei came himself.

"Qingshang, I never wished for this." Ning Jiwei met her gaze, his eyes holding a familiar warmth before he withdrew his hand. Ye Qingshang watched, helpless, as he extracted her inner core. Agony tore through her heart, yet numbness silenced her cries.

Blood-red light flashed in Ning Jiwei’s eyes, mingling with the core’s golden glow. Suddenly, fragmented scenes flooded her mind—muffled voices, murky and indistinct, like when Yin Huai had forcibly invaded her memories.

"Immortal Lord, I beg you, save my child!"

Save… whom? Ye Qingshang swayed, reality dissolving into illusion.

She stood beneath a crumbling roof.

The village lay in ruins—collapsed walls, splintered railings—a scene of devastation.

A white-robed immortal stood there, sleeves fluttering, unearthly.

A couple knelt before him, clutching a gravely ill girl of ten. Her breaths were shallow, death hovering near.

They kowtowed desperately, pleading: "Immortal Lord, save our child!"

Ye Qingshang, behind the immortal, saw him bend to check the girl’s breath. He paused, placing a hand over her heart. His voice turned oddly pleased. "This child’s inner core is remarkably potent. It shouldn’t be wasted here."

The couple cried, "Immortal Lord, will you save her?"

He shook his head. "I can. But you must pay a price."

"Anything!" they vowed. "Our lives, if needed!"

"Good. Then… your lives it shall be." His voice turned icy.

"Immortal Lord—?" Their shock froze mid-breath. The immortal struck—swift, silent, without a trace of bloodshed.

Ye Qingshang’s mind blanked. The couple’s lifeless eyes stared toward her. A searing pain split her skull. Unthinking, she rushed forward.

Why punish parental devotion? Shouldn’t an immortal safeguard mortals?

As she neared, the immortal turned. Ye Qingshang’s hand froze mid-reach. She stared, stunned.

"Master…"

His gaze softened slightly, yet cold still radiated from him, chilling her to the bone.

She knew Ning Jiwei’s face, but this man felt utterly alien.

"Why…?" Her voice trembled.

Ning Jiwei’s eyes darkened. Cold dread seized her, as if her very life hung in his grasp.

Memories surged—though light surrounded her, she felt plunged into darkness.

The images sharpened: the village… the couple… her parents… and Ning Jiwei. She clutched her head, recoiling, but the memories pursued her, desperate to unveil a buried truth.

A past deliberately erased, too dark to face.

“Ah!” Someone screamed in her memories; unfamiliar faces grew increasingly distorted. Though she’d never seen these people, their features felt eerily familiar.

In an instant, the houses collapsed.

Frightened, she fell backward onto the ground. Dazedly, she heard a gentle voice calling, “Qingshang, so you’re hiding here. Why won’t you come home? Your mom’s so worried about you.”

Home… mom? Did she still have a home… could she ever return…

The figure crouched and lifted her gently. “Don’t be afraid, Qingshang.”

Those words fell like a flame sparking in frozen darkness, soothing her hollow, terrified heart. Straining to lift her eyes, she finally glimpsed the person’s face clearly.