Chapter 80: Exchange

Dozens of yards away, the hem of the woman in green fluttered lightly as fine dust and scattered leaves on the ground began to tremble. Shen Yu’s expression was calm as he asked indifferently, “Why wait until now to make your move?”

“I examined Junior Brother Yang’s wounds carefully, so I know you’re very strong,” the woman in green replied. “And that astonishingly powerful immortal sword you wielded—it’s much like those used by the sword cultivators of Sword Immortal City in the Northern Sanctuary.”

“You’re very perceptive,” Shen Yu said.

“If I wanted to kill you, no one here would ever know. But if others, such as my master, learned of your origins, perhaps you’d be spared because of where you’re from,” the woman said coldly. “That’s why I chose to act here.”

Shen Yu smiled. “Not a bad choice. The scenery here is rather picturesque.”

In the next instant, the woman in green stepped forward, crossing the span of dozens of yards in a flash. Her speed was so swift that the air itself burst with a crack, leaving a streak of green between them.

Shen Yu raised his brows slightly, surprised to realize that this woman was not a cultivator at all, but a genuine, formidable martial artist.

A thunderous crash sounded. The woman’s fingers curled into a claw and struck heavily against Shen Yu’s right arm, which he had raised to shield himself. The ground beneath him shattered instantly, forming a deep pit.

Shen Yu remained composed, murmuring, “Rise, sword!”

A sword of lustrous jade shot from his sleeve. Ever since he had entered the Guiyun Immortal Sect, he had summoned back his blood-drinking sword.

The woman’s face betrayed no emotion. She thrust her left palm forward, pouring all her spiritual power into the blow. A fierce wave of energy exploded between them, forcibly halting the advance of the jade sword.

Without pause, she transformed her palm into a fist, aiming a heavy blow at Shen Yu’s head.

Shen Yu shifted his stance, deftly avoiding the strike, and with effortless grace, extended a finger toward her brow.

Silent as a shadow, yet striking straight to the soul.

For some reason, a surge of unfamiliar fear flooded the woman’s heart. She tapped her toes on the ground and retreated rapidly, putting dozens of yards between them.

Shen Yu’s expression remained unmoved. With a sweep of his wide sleeve, the jade sword shot forward in relentless pursuit, streaking through the air like an arrow loosed from a bow, crossing the distance in the blink of an eye.

Yun Qing’s lips moved in a soft incantation as her hands formed a series of gestures. The spiritual energy of heaven and earth coalesced before her into a thick barrier of light.

“Break!” Shen Yu’s face showed no change as he formed a sword seal with his right hand.

The sword’s aura intensified, bright as a comet sweeping through the world.

A muffled sound.

The shield of spiritual energy shattered instantly.

The jade sword pressed on, unstoppable.

At that critical moment, misty white light flickered in Yun Qing’s eyes.

In an instant, the entire mountain peak was bathed in radiance. Under that dazzling light, the overwhelming sword energy that had enveloped the flying sword dissipated without a trace, leaving no threat behind.

Yun Qing herself radiated an ethereal, formidable aura. She extended both hands, pointing lightly forward.

A crystal-clear droplet of water appeared at her fingertip.

It was the purest form of spiritual energy between heaven and earth.

The droplet glowed with a strange light, then slowly expanded, soon forming a sphere shrouded in white mist.

Shen Yu’s expression grew grave.

The woman in green’s hair streamed behind her as light flashed in her eyes. She cried out, “Go!”

A streak of white light shot from her fingertips, crossing the sky.

If someone had been watching from afar, they would have seen the dim Fallen Immortal Peak illuminated in a single instant by white light.

A thunderous boom.

It was as if a massive chasm had split the world.

Fortunately, Fallen Immortal Peak was so remote that no one witnessed this jaw-dropping scene.

The woman gazed quietly ahead.

The ground was in ruins, ancient trees snapped in half, smoke and dust billowing—chaos reigned across the mountainside.

But she suddenly frowned.

A wooden sword glowing with blood-red light had appeared in the air, and that delicate figure emerged from the haze, unscathed.

“So, you’re from the Daoist Sect,” Yun Qing said, her expression complicated. “A sword cultivator from the Daoist Sect—so you really are Shen Yu.”

Shen Yu still made no move to attack. “It seems you know who I am.”

The woman’s eyes returned to normal, her spiritual energy dissipated, and she said calmly, “The trials of the Four Halls, the old Shen residence, the battle at Cloud-reaching Cliff, blue robes, a wooden sword—these stories have long spread across the land.”

Shen Yu glanced at her. “Will you continue fighting?”

She spoke directly. “I want to strike a deal with you.”

“I recall you came here to kill me,” Shen Yu remarked.

“Can’t beat you,” Yun Qing replied coolly. “I won’t waste time on pointless things. Besides, this is simple for you.”

“Why should I agree?” Shen Yu asked.

“You’ve been stalling, just to give that girl on the mountain top a little more time,” Yun Qing said, looking up the peak. “I know why you’re here. If you agree to my terms, I’ll let that girl stay on the peak for a few more days to be with her master. I’ll also share a secret you’ll want to hear.”

Shen Yu considered for a moment. “And if I refuse?”

“In a short while, every strong cultivator in Guiyun Immortal Sect will be here,” Yun Qing replied.

Shen Yu was silent.

If he revealed his Daoist Sect identity in public, nothing much would come of it. But doing that would be beneath him.

“It seems you know me well,” he said quietly.

“Go on, tell me,” Shen Yu said.

...

The moon hung pale and sparse in the sky.

A waning crescent lingered among the branches.

On a patch of level ground midway up the mountain, beside a rather humble solitary grave, stood a young woman.

Her expression was somber, two tear tracks still visible on her cheeks.

Shen Yu came to stand beside her.

Lu Caiwei wiped her face carelessly. “Are we leaving soon?”

Shen Yu gazed at the gravestone—one renowned for its upright character—but said nothing.

In this world, no matter how miraculous your powers in life, in death you return to dust. Whether you belonged to any of the Three Teachings or Nine Schools, whether you were an immortal of the sects or a mortal emperor, death is the great equalizer.

Shen Yu asked, “Was it worth it, sacrificing so much, just to come here and see this once?”

Lu Caiwei answered without hesitation, “Yes.”

“Then since we’re finally here, let’s stay a few more days,” Shen Yu said.

Lu Caiwei turned to him uncertainly. “Can we?”

Shen Yu nodded, looking at the gravestone. “Tell me about him.”

Tonight, the girl had none of her earlier brashness.

Lu Caiwei sat beside the mound and began to recount many memories from the past.

Most were trivial, ordinary things, yet her eyes shone with extraordinary conviction.

Shen Yu stood silently nearby, listening the entire time without saying a word.

After a long while, Lu Caiwei suddenly fell silent.

Shen Yu looked at her.

“Did something happen?” Lu Caiwei asked shrewdly.

Shen Yu shook his head. “No.”

Lu Caiwei scrutinized his face, but found nothing amiss, and sighed helplessly.

Casually, Shen Yu said, “What if he didn’t die in seclusion trying to break through?”

Lu Caiwei’s face turned ashen in an instant.

If it wasn’t a normal passing through cultivation, then there were other possibilities.

Suddenly, Shen Yu smiled. “Silly girl, I was teasing you.”

Lu Caiwei glared at him. “Are you mad?”

Shen Yu looked up at the sky, his expression unchanged. “Tomorrow, I have to go out for a while. You stay here.”

Lu Caiwei asked curiously, “Where are you going?”

Shen Yu replied coolly, “To be someone’s hired hand.”