The Song That Reforged the Heart

The news that Xiao Shishui had soundly defeated Chu Xingkuang, one of the Four Heroes of Yin, swept through the capital of the Great Shang Empire like a gale, shaking the entire city overnight.

For years, the Four Heroes of Yin had been virtually invincible among the younger generation, their fame resounding throughout the imperial capital. They had faced no rivals, and even cultivators more than a decade their senior often could not match them.

The Beast-Fighting Palace, Gambling City, Sunken-Fish-Sinking-Goose Palace, Drunken Beauty Palace… cultivators everywhere spoke of nothing else. The overseas rogue cultivator Xiao Shishui had become a name on everyone's lips.

The middle-aged and younger members of the great families paid particular attention. Chu Xingkuang was a luminary of the young generation; his defeat was a momentous event.

“The Twins of Fate were said to be indestructible—the King of Hell's treasure and the Buddha's Dharma Wheel united, enough to dominate the younger generation. How many could contend with that? Yet they fell to a foreign rogue cultivator who appeared from nowhere. We must find that cultivator.”

“See if we can recruit Xiao Shishui to our service.”

Many families, upon receiving the reports, issued similar orders. A young expert of such caliber would, in decades or centuries, become a supreme powerhouse who could shake the world. If cultivated properly, he might even sweep away all his peers across the continent. How could the great families not try to recruit him?

The Eight-Aspect Worlds had revealed themselves for the first time before the world, and instantly they were famous throughout the land.

Add to that Xiao Chen's mastery of the Fearless Lion Seal, the Unmoving Bright King Seal, the Divine-Rhythm Flower-Picking Seal, the Perfect Vase Seal, and the Serene Eternal Seal, and his origins appeared all the more mysterious. These five great seals possessed godlike and demonic capabilities, once renowned across the world.

And then there was the Spirit-Sword Ripple, a technique of terrifying lethality that had shaken the world in a bygone age.

Together with the Yin-Yang Ten-Layer Divine-Sealing Technique, all this seemed to indicate… that Xiao Chen's background was far from simple. He must have been taught by several extraordinary experts—how else could he have learned such long-lost skills?

That night, the entire city of Yin buzzed with excitement. In the gambling dens and pleasure quarters, cultivators discussed the matter endlessly.

And it was also on this night that the public learned one more thing: Yan Lingkong, another of the Four Heroes of Yin, would return to the city within three days. The urgent letter Chu Xingkuang had received during the battle was from Yan Lingkong.

This news filled everyone with anticipation. After Chu Xingkuang's crushing defeat, would Yan Lingkong step in to vindicate him? Not necessarily for revenge, but at least to salvage some honor.

After all, the Four Heroes were as closely bound as brothers. Now that Yan Lingkong was returning, how could he stand by and do nothing? The days ahead in Yin were sure to be spectacular.

In addition, there was another piece of news known only within a small circle of noble scions: a “fierce tiger” from the powerful Hu family of the Central Plains was in the Great Shang capital. Having learned that two “little tigers” had been slain, that “fierce tiger”—famous throughout the world for his overprotectiveness—would surely not sit idle…

This night was destined to keep many awake, for the days to come held even more promise.

On Moon Lake, all was quiet. The crowd had long since dispersed, and now it was deep in the night.

Silvery moonlight streamed down, and the clear, gemlike lake shimmered with soft radiance. It resembled an enormous glowing jewel, and with the moonbeams like rippling water, the whole scene was veiled in a faint, dreamy mist—a beauty that seemed otherworldly.

A small boat drifted slowly across the lake, stirring delicate ripples that shattered the moon's reflection into a scattering of jade fragments.

Xiao Chen sat alone at the prow, drinking to the moon. There was no joy of victory, only a deep emptiness. While the outside world seethed with noise and excitement, he drifted in solitude on the moonlit waters.

In the heat of battle, his passion had indeed surged. For a moment, his spirit soared, and he had thrown himself wholly into the blazing fire of life-and-death combat, letting the flower of life bloom in dazzling radiance. On that razor's edge between existence and oblivion, he had tasted the true meaning of life and death, felt the surging thrill of boiling blood.

But after the pinnacle of glory, when the passion faded and the blood cooled, he felt only boundless fatigue and emptiness.

The world outside was a riot of voices, yet he was utterly alone.

Even if the whole world cheered for him, it could not dispel the loneliness of one man at this moment.

Fame, he already had. Wealth, he could grasp at will.

But…

In the midst of a clamorous multitude, his heart was lone. That was his state of mind.

Leaning against the boat's gunwale, a bronze wine vessel in hand, drinking to the moon, Xiao Chen's face was etched with desolation and solitude.

He was already somewhat intoxicated. Facing the hazy moonlight, he felt as if he had lost himself.

Deathless Longevity—what meaning did it have? To live forever in this world might not be a blessing. In the endless years of immortality, one might face only infinite bitter cold and solitude.

Perhaps the only force driving him forward was the hope of reaching Deathless Longevity before his fortieth year, so he could return home… He thought of the mortal world.

But when he thought about it clearly, his aging parents were not in good health. Even if he returned to the Mortal World in twenty years, would they still be alive?

And the girl he had left behind in the mortal realm—who would she belong to in twenty years?

“I use my youth to cultivate, yet I see no future, no result… Is it worth it?”

Xiao Chen was silent, alone with the bright moon. Suddenly he felt very tired, as if an invisible shackle had bound him tight.

Perhaps it was better to go back…

When he imagined the scene twenty years hence, he felt as though his faith was crumbling. All his efforts would come to nothing, his hopes would shatter like broken bubbles, and all he would face were fragments that pierced the heart… Should he even continue?

Drunk!

Xiao Chen was truly drunk.

His mind scattered, his thoughts ran wild. The cultivator's imperturbable heart had failed him in this moment. He began to doubt whether his cultivation had any meaning at all.

Deathless Longevity? To live as long as heaven and earth, to shine alongside the sun and moon, to never age or die, to look down upon all living things.

But beyond that… what else could there be?

The heavens' will was unfathomable, the immortals' hearts were cold as frost.

Lonely desolation, ever-present—was this the final result?

The world of mortals was enchanting, the mortal world full of vitality. In that case, did the pursuit of immortality still have meaning? Perhaps it was best to live a simple, happy life as an ordinary person.

Let the celestial realms shatter, let the underworld fall into chaos; let the Ancestral Gods fall, let the rebel gods wreak havoc. He would wander freely through the world of dust—such a colorful life would be more than enough.

On Moon Lake, Xiao Chen faced the pure moon alone. In the latter half of the night, the place was eerily cold, utterly still.

Dazed and drowsy, the boat drifted with the waves.

At some point, in a state between waking and sleeping, Xiao Chen suddenly heard a resonant, clashing sound—the ring of metal on metal, a clash of blades that shook heaven and earth.

Raising his eyes, he saw a woman skimming over the waves ahead. Though her posture was elegant, a murderous aura shot straight into the sky.

“Dust of the world rises, darkness runs wild; the long blade in hand shakes the starry sky. Her eyes flash with cold lightning, her heart is harder than iron; where the blade points, a thousand miles tremble…”

The song was melodious, but every word struck his heart like a hammer. It rang through heaven and earth, jolting Xiao Chen instantly awake. Somehow, he seemed to see horses and chariots, a vast landscape of rivers and mountains stretching ten thousand miles. The long blade howled with rage, and the blood in his cooled heart began to burn.

“Heavenly winds arise, the great earth trembles; within his breast are hidden a million heavenly soldiers. His spirit swallows mountains and rivers, his will overawes sun and moon; when angered, he dares to shake the world into chaos…”

Xiao Chen felt as if struck by lightning. In an instant, his blood was boiling. Moved by the song, a soaring ambition surged within him, as if he could shake even the Ancestral Gods of heaven and earth.

The fragmented song seemed to ignite Xiao Chen's fighting spirit. It lifted him from his confusion and allowed him to find himself again. This was a man's battle hymn, filling him with surging passion.

Though the lyrics were not polished, their meaning made his blood race and fully restored his senses.

Life was like a song. A man born into this world should not waver or lose his way. He should let the flower of life burst into bloom, be filled with fighting spirit, stand proudly between heaven and earth, and fill his life with magnificent color.

Regardless of the future, regardless of the outcome, what mattered was that he had tried his best.

Xiao Chen's heart as a cultivator was more unwavering than ever. He would continue forward, unchanging in direction, unwavering, and ever pressing ahead.

Every person is complex—no one is purely simple. Xiao Chen was no exception. After a brief period of loneliness and melancholy, his blood would surge again, igniting stronger confidence and drive.

The song faded away, and the dreamlike, peerlessly beautiful woman had vanished over the moonlit lake.

“Qingqing… is that Qingqing?”

Xiao Chen shouted. The Eight-Aspect Worlds appeared, and he pushed his speed to the limit, rushing into the misty sky. But the cold sky was empty and still—nothing but moonlight and starlight spilling down.

“After one battle, demonic thoughts grew thick, nearly destroying my Dao-heart. Too close!” Xiao Chen sighed to himself.

Standing alone at the prow, gazing at the starry sky, his eyes resolute, his will as firm as iron. Xiao Chen felt his spirit full and his cultivation pushing straight to the peak of the Sixth Heaven of Spirit-Treasury, as if he might break into the Seventh Heaven at any moment.

“Refining the heart in the world of mortals is truly a clear path.”

Xiao Chen was deeply moved. He resolved to walk this path of the mortal world even more actively. The multitudes of life experiences awaited him.

Three days passed in a flash. Xiao Chen threw the evil avatar's head into Moon Lake. Chu Xingkuang's evil avatar materialized, bowed to Xiao Chen, and flew away like the wind.

Though three days were brief, they were enough to make Xiao Chen a household name among the young cultivators of Yin.

Chu Xingkuang's evil avatar had truly been sealed for three days. While the crowd was astonished, they could only admire Xiao Chen's audacity and skill—to suppress a minor prince was no ordinary feat.

After three days of quiet enlightenment on Moon Lake, Xiao Chen's state of mind ascended another level. His divine consciousness had broken into the Seventh Heaven of Spirit-Treasury ahead of his physical body.

He leaped up, the light boat vanishing behind him. With the extreme speed of the Eight-Aspect Worlds, he appeared in an instant on the streets of Yin. The sky was still the same sky, the clouds still the same clouds, but his state of mind was different. Three days had passed like a snap of the fingers.

A certain Shang king had chosen to move the capital to Yin for many reasons. Beyond strategic and economic considerations, more important were certain ancient secrets. It was said that in the distant past, several Ancestral Gods—including Fuxi—had once dwelt in Yin for a time, leaving behind indelible relics.

This place was said to be a supreme land of treasure… or perhaps a burial ground of the gods. Above coiled dragon qi of the heavens; below, the dragon vein of the earth.

Xiao Chen did not plan to leave Yin anytime soon. He had already visited the ruins of Fuxi, and he wished to see other legendary sites of the gods.

Unconsciously, he found himself once more at Moon-Gazing Tower. He smiled wryly—habit was indeed a powerful thing. He had only been here twice before, yet aimless wandering had brought him here again.

Since he was already here, there was no reason not to go up.

As he stepped onto the ninth floor, Xiao Chen suddenly realized that “Xiao Shishui” was now something of a celebrity. Showing up like this might be a bit imprudent.

But it was too late. A sea of gazes turned toward him. The ninth floor, which had been buzzing with conversation, fell instantly silent.

Then came a flurry of greetings:

“Brother Xiao, please join us here…”

“Shishui, over here…”

A group of noble sons swarmed around him. Many had been seeking to recruit him as a guest cultivator. Having searched for days without success, they now pressed forward to curry favor.

This was the man who had defeated Chu Xingkuang! His Eight-Aspect Worlds had slain the Twins of Fate, showing boundless potential. He was worth any great family's effort to win over.

The faces were the same. Xiao Chen once again saw Yin Feng, Bo Shi, Chen Hangjin, and others, and in a private room he glimpsed Yan Qingcheng, Qilao, Abing, Ashui, and the Flame Dancer.

But today was different from before. The noble sons of Yin no longer carried themselves with arrogance, no longer looked down on cultivators from beyond the Central Plains. Three days earlier, Dugu Jianmo had first fought his way invincible through Yin, and then Xiao Chen had crushed Chu Xingkuang of the Four Heroes—shattering the proud bearing of Yin's noble youth once and for all.

“Xiao Shishui, over here.”

The door to a private room pushed open. Dugu Jianmo, with his iron sword strapped to his back, leaned against the doorframe.

Xiao Chen smiled and clasped his hands to the crowd, then strode toward Dugu Jianmo and entered the room.

The ninth floor erupted in noise once more. Dugu Jianmo was also a target of everyone's search and recruitment. No one had expected to find him here at Moon-Gazing Tower. Yin Feng, Chen Jingxing, and the others immediately began to scheme.

Meanwhile, the door to another private room slid shut. Yan Lingkong, another of the Four Heroes of Yin, smiled at Chu Xingkuang and asked, “Is this the one who was able to slay your Twins of Fate?”

Yan Lingkong was tall and slender, with sword-like brows and starry eyes—strikingly handsome. To put it mildly, he was a heartbreaker of maidens, a man of both bearing and temperament. He carried the distinct martial aura of a soldier, and his gaze was sharp and unmatched.

“Yes, it is,” Chu Xingkuang nodded. “I was thinking of recruiting him into the army. What do you think?”

“If he's willing, that would be excellent.” Yan Lingkong swirled the golden wine in his cup. “I just worry that the man is carefree and doesn't want to go to the battlefield.”

Chu Xingkuang shook his head. “Not at all. I think he is in the midst of a practical training experience. Recruiting him for the battlefield might succeed. For him, it would be an unprecedented experience—a million troops clashing on the battlefield, the true blood and steel. It would suit him.”

“Then perhaps I should break his pride first.” A sharp light flickered in Yan Lingkong's eyes.

Chu Xingkuang laughed. “I'm afraid you might end up like me, with your head cut off. Pride? I haven't seen any in him, but he certainly has backbone. If we push him, we'll only provoke his hostility. Better to treat him gently.”

Yan Lingkong seemed to recall something. “I heard there's a fierce tiger in the capital as well. That tiger surely won't let the matter rest, will it?”

In another private room, Yuwen Feng, Dugu Jianmo, and Xiao Chen shared a silent toast. Then the door opened, and Yan Qingcheng, Qilao, Abing, Ashui, and the Flame Dancer entered.

Aside from the three from the Western Frontier, the Southern Wastes group had gathered once more. Xiao Chen felt a profound difference in atmosphere.

After a brief silence, they began to talk. Even the taciturn Dugu Jianmo no longer hoarded his words.

Yan Qingcheng asked, “Dugu Jianmo, where will you go from here?”

“With my sword, I will travel the world. My life is for the sword alone. Nothing else is my concern.”

She turned to Yuwen Feng. “And you?”

“I… am nothing but a failure. I will go to the southwestern border, enter the sacred mountain of the beast clans, and search for an ancient beast-king soul. I will return to Yin.” Yuwen Feng spoke like he was swearing an oath.

Xiao Chen felt a certain sympathy for Yuwen Feng. He had been a strong man in his own right, but he was a tragic figure, having encountered ever stronger opponents and suffered repeated blows. He could only offer words of comfort. “Suffering defeats early on is not a bad thing. Face the sun, and the shadows fall behind you.”

“Thank you.” Yuwen Feng nodded.

Seeing that Yan Qingcheng was about to ask him, Qilao spoke first. “The Eternal Continent is so vast, with hundreds of races—ancient War Clans that rival gods, the peerlessly beautiful Humania race. My footprints will be left in all those places. I will travel a thousand mountains and rivers, roaming the world.”

“And you, Brother Xiao?” Yan Qingcheng asked.

“I… will refine my heart in the world of mortals.”

Abing, Ashui, and the Flame Dancer also spoke of their plans.

A brief silence descended on the room. It was very quiet.

They all knew that this gathering today might be the last time they saw one another—perhaps for decades, perhaps forever. This could be their final meeting. Each had his own future, his own path to walk into a distant world.

The room was filled with a faint sadness of parting.