amaotonovel Chapter 505 A Half-Open Peach Blossom
Chapter 505 A Half-Open Peach Blossom
It turned out that what she thought was just an ordinary meeting was the last time she would see him.
Just like our parting in the south of the city.
It turned out to be a final farewell.
All her strength was drained away in an instant, and she slumped to the ground. She stared blankly at her second senior brother, who was half-conscious in the cell, and cold tears welled up uncontrollably.
Tears fell to the ground, then squeezed into her heart, a sour, swollen feeling that made it hard to breathe; she truly seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.
Having sat there motionless for an unknown amount of time, she gripped the cell door and mumbled, "Second Senior Brother, please wake up! Wake up! I need to ask the Sect Leader, I need to find out that I can save Master. Exchange me for him! If someone has to pay with their life, then take mine! Anyway, I'm already dead, I'm not afraid of death..."
"Second Senior Brother, wake up, please wake up, I beg you, I beg you..."
She pounded her fists on the cell door, her eyes vacant as she murmured and pleaded with Fu Wennian again and again, until her hands were a bloody mess, the warm blood seeping into the cracks of the cell door.
The young man, whose eyes were tightly closed, seemed to finally be unable to bear it, and his long eyelashes trembled.
The surrounding scenery began to change, first turning the prison gate in front of them into the deepest black, then gradually dissolving into the lightest and palest rainbow light, and finally all the colors merged into a dazzling, empty white.
As the dream began to shatter, Jiang Liqian felt a dizzying sensation as if the world was spinning. In the vast expanse of heaven and earth, it seemed as if someone sighed, and her consciousness was ejected from Fu Wennian's dream.
In a flash, she and the person on the bed opened their eyes at the same time.
Fu Wennian only had time to anxiously call out, "Junior Sister!"
The person who was sitting in the magic circle turned into a stream of light and rushed out of the courtyard.
......................................................
Zhong Nanchu waited for Jiang Liqian in the corridor for a whole day and night, but she did not come. Finally, he could no longer suppress the intense anger in his heart. He hugged the jade box and set off alone for Linglong Pavilion.
The snow on Sword Peak was the coldest he had ever seen; every snowflake here was a manifestation of the peak's master's heart. Because of its ruthlessness, even the pure white snow lacked any warmth.
"Master, I have something to report." Bowing deeply before the majestic jade gate of the palace, Zhong Nanchu held his breath and requested an audience.
His voice quickly faded into the cold wind, and the air fell silent as the jade gate slowly opened before him.
As he carried the box inside, each step felt like walking on his own heartbeat, countless emotions flowing through his eyes and seeping into his veins and lungs.
He straightened his back and finally stood before the immortal figure, who was carved from ice and jade.
"Disciple pays homage to Master."
The immortal, whose beauty could shatter mountains and jade, looked down at him with detached eyes. The cold wind blew in from outside the palace, yet his belt and jade rings remained hanging there, unmoving.
Despite the fierce winds and snow, it remained steadfastly isolated from the world.
When Zhong Nanchu saw him raise his hand to indicate the gesture he was referring to, he took a deep breath and knelt down, clutching the jade box.
"This disciple has an old item here that I would like Master to appraise. Perhaps it was once an old friend of Master's."
There was no sound from above.
Not stopping him meant letting him continue.
Zhong Nanchu paused for a moment, no longer looking down, but raising his eyes and boldly and fearlessly looking directly into the eyes of Sect Leader Qingzhi, and said, word by word: "My Zhong family was once a powerful and influential family, with many talented members. Some of our members have even studied under the Tianqian Sect. I wonder if Master knows any fellow disciples with the surname 'Zhong'?"
"I don't recognize it." The person seated spoke indifferently, his slender eyebrows sweeping over the jade box in his arms without lingering for even a moment.
When Zhong Nanshan first heard those two words, he almost laughed.
Laughing angrily!
The sarcasm in his eyes was almost impossible to hide, nor did he try to hide it; it was laid bare before the only sword immortal in the cultivation world.
"So, a perfectly healthy person, after entering a sect, disappears without a trace, their fate unknown? Is that what you mean, Master?"
An overwhelming pressure swept over the steps, forcing him to kneel heavily on the ground.
The dignity of the strong is inviolable, and disrespecting the sect leader is a violation of sect rules!
Zhong Nanchu felt as if a thousand-pound boulder had been pressed on his chest in an instant, and every breath he took was filled with the bloody smell of ruptured internal organs.
But his back remained straight, like a sword or bamboo, stubbornly refusing to bend.
He was a disciple of the miscellaneous peak with poor spiritual roots. Only through his hard work day and night was he able to enter the inner sect and become a disciple of the sect leader, Immortal Venerable Qingzhi.
If he were smarter, he wouldn't have confronted such a powerful figure. He didn't have the ability to do so, and in the end, his life or death would be entirely in the other party's hands.
When he came to the Tianqian Sect, his relatives and friends had tried to persuade him in this way, but he still insisted on coming, for his Qingfeng Sword Technique, for his Zhong family, and for the resentment and confusion in his heart.
To find out the truth behind a single question from the Immortal Master Zhi, one might discover a fellow disciple surnamed Zhong whose whereabouts and fate are unknown.
This is the path he chose; he is not afraid to die. He who marties for the Way attains the Way.
"Master..." A metallic taste welled up in his throat, but he didn't wipe it away. He refused to lower his head and stared straight into Qingzhi's eyes. "Do you dare to look at the things of an old friend?"
With difficulty, he lifted the jade box high above his head.
The lofty sword immortal finally fixed his gaze on the ordinary jade box. With a slight lift of his fair and distinct fingers, the jade box flew from his hand towards him.
With another flick of her jade sleeve, the jade box hovered in front of him and slowly opened.
The wind, carrying snow, swept across the frozen lake, over the jade-like branches and trees, over the sword-training platform marked with sword marks, and over the winding, secluded corridor carved from white jade. Along with the bright, warm sunlight from the sky, it blew into the half-open window, abruptly lifting the dust of antiquity. A painting of a beautiful woman on a peach branch swayed in the dappled light and shadow, slowly unfolding on the front of the ancient scroll.
Something seemed to have broken, gently falling into his palm—a half-open peach blossom.
For the first time, a blank stare appeared in his eyes, which were usually calm and composed, even as they held the frosty look of snow.
He had initially glanced at it casually, but in an instant, all five senses were drawn to it, and he couldn't help but raise his hand and gently touch the contents of the box.
A broken sword.
A broken sword riddled with cracks, no longer fit for battle.
He vaguely heard a shattering sound, sharp and piercing, which instantly cut countless bleeding wounds into his heart.
He stared blankly at the broken sword, letting the blood from his fingertips be licked by the blade, then fade away in the corners of his increasingly reddened eyes.
Snow stopped.
The wind stopped.
Above the mountain mists and clouds, layer upon layer, the endless peach blossoms fell once more.
"Sect Leader, do you still remember who was the first person in the Tianqian Sect to be revered as the Sword Master before you?"