Sounding Out Again (part 1)

As soon as the voice fell, the surroundings became so quiet that even the sound of needles falling to the ground would be heard.

Only then did Feng Xuan realize that he had accidentally spoken out the slander deep in his heart, and alarm bells rang out in his mind.

Qi Zhuoyu didn’t perceive anything before, but now that he’d found out that his Taoist companion’s core has changed long ago, he should chop him now, right?

As a result, after waiting for a long time, Qi Zhuoyu just stared at him with a faint smile, without any emotion in his eyes.

At that stretch of time, he only smiled at him, while he stared at this unspeakable horror. He then withdrew his gaze, and set out towards Misty Immortal Mansion with a lukewarm attitude.

(TL: Miaoxian Mansion → Misty Immortal Mountain)

I thought I would be severely tortured.

I didn’t expect for Qi Zhuoyu to just let me go like this?

Feng Xuan didn’t know for a moment whether Qi Zhuoyu had noticed something or not, after all, it was said in the Book of Fate that Qi Zhuoyu not only had a high cultivation level, but also had a high IQ. As a little phoenix who had only lived for 1,500 years, he felt a little inadequate in front of him.

As expected of the big devil who made the mortal world miserable, he’s really a man whose mind was deeper than the sea and hard to guess. That glance made him terrified.

In the final analysis, being pierced with a sword through the heart would definitely be a calamity failure.

All that awaited him was his end in ashes.

Annoying.

How could his destiny be so unlucky?

Thinking of this, Feng Xuan’s fear turned into depression.

Especially when he found that he hadn’t yet reached the Misty Immortal Mansion after walking for three hours. The fear of Qi Zhuoyu completely disappeared, however what was left was the feeling of soreness in his feet instead.

It really hurts.

God knows, as an ancient divine bird, Feng Xuan’s two legs had never been used much.

He used to fly in the Ninth Heaven, where did he ever suffer such a kind as climbing a mountain!

Moreover, he now seriously suspected that Qi Zhuoyu was deliberately taking revenge on him.

As a cultivator in “God Transformation Stage”, couldn’t he just fly with the sword? It was said in the Book of Fate that Qi Zhuoyu had an ancient divine sword, the Huaying sword. According to legend, when the sword was forged, it was casted by the Thunder God striking iron, and poured water by the Yun Niang, until it was completed. And then, one year later, he would sacrifice himself under this ancient divine sword.

Although he heard people say that the cultivator treated his sword like his own wife.

But this broken sword is at most only a concubine!

As for Qi Zhuoyu’s real wife–that was, himself, his primordial spirit would be wiped out because of this broken sword in the future–if he asks to take it out and let him ride it, will he die?

Stingy ghost, stingy ghost.

Cursing all the way in his heart, Qi Zhuoyu seemed to have noticed something, then turned his head to look back, and his eyes fell on Feng Xuan.

It seemed to be the first time for him to frequently assess the same person. The little Taoist was not tall, and because of his young age, his figure was also slender and beautiful. At this moment, he was strenuously striding forward, following behind him in two steps at a time.

Poor cultivation, poor aptitude, unable to keep up whether walking and running, a good-for-nothing to the extreme.

It’s just that when these sarcastic words came to his lips, Qi Zhuoyu suddenly paused. He saw Feng Xuan bending over and beating his sore calf from time to time, his cheeks that still had baby fat were bulging, grumbling to himself something he had no idea what about.

Judging from his attitude towards himself these days.

He doesn’t even need to think about it, he must be cursing him.

Although Qi Zhuoyu pretended to be gentle and considerate, inside he was cruel and arrogant, his patience and good temperament were also poor.

However, he didn’t know why, but when he thought that Feng Xuan was only less than sixteen this year, his manic mood of wanting to kill someone turned into an impatient cold “tsk”. It was barely audible to hear without listening carefully.

Just when Feng Xuan’s physical strength was about to run out, when his whole body wanted to just slump on the ground, and would only walk whenever he felt like it, he suddenly heard Qi Zhuoyu’s voice.

“Your current cultivation is too low, and you haven’t even reached the completion of the foundation building stage. If you fly with a sword, with your spiritual power, you may not be able to fly to the Misty Immortal Mansion, and will only fall from midair.”

Hm? 

Feng Xuan raised his head, his face a little bewildered.

He couldn’t respond for a while—why did this big devil suddenly say such a long word to him?

After listening carefully, Feng Xuan suddenly paused, with a subtle expression on his face.

He couldn’t be explaining to him why he didn’t take a sword back to the mansion, could he?

With a movement of spiritual power in Qi Zhuoyu’s hand, a three-foot-three long sword with black markings printed all over its body appeared, which was exactly his natal sword Huaying. The blade turned around in his hand with its scabbard immediately facing in front of the other, while the end of the sword was facing himself.

Seeing that Feng Xuan was still muddle headed and had not come back to his senses, Qi Zhuoyu was too lazy to talk nonsense with him again, and only said curtly, “Hold on.”

Feng Xuan hesitated.

Qi Zhuoyu said, “If you walk slowly like this, we won’t be able to reach the Misty Immortal Mansion until it gets dark.”

Oh.

It turned out that he was walking slowly.

Feng Xuan almost thought that the big devil had found his conscience and wanted to help him.

Sure enough, he thought too much.

The Huaying sword was an ancient divine weapon. After being cultivated for many years and having passed through generations of masters, it had already cultivated spiritual awareness. As soon as Feng Xuan held the scabbard, the Huaying sword recognized that he was not Qi Zhuoyu.

The divine weapon only recognized its master, but the imagined tragic scene of the little Taoist companion being overturned by the Huaying sword did not happen. On the contrary, the sword trembled like a cat feeling comfortable, and a burst of urn-like sound was heard with a fine tremor.

Qi Zhuoyu withdrew his casual gaze, the tenderness at the bottom of his eyes turned to ice, and gave the Huaying sword a cold look.

Take note of your own situation.

Feng Xuan didn’t realize that he had escaped a catastrophe, and with the support of the Huaying sword, he arrived at Misty Immortal Mansion in less than half an hour.

Looking up, there was an endless stretch of immortal mountains in front, with peaks rising higher than the other, towering into the clouds. The immortal mist in the mountains was amiable, with rare birds and spiritual animals playing in between, and the immortal temples and Dongfu were built on the mountains, crisscrossed like a knot, with twists and turns. From the peak came the loud sound of bells, which radiated abundant Qi making the soul clear.

(t/n Dongfu, a Chinese word, pinyin is dòng fǔ, refers to the place where the gods live in mythology.)

The mountains where the Misty Sect was located extended thousands of miles to the north and south respectively. This was the junction of the human world and the chaotic sea demon world. At the same time, this was also a strong and powerful barrier preventing the demons in the chaotic sea from entering the human world.

Feng Xuan had already seen the description of Misty Immortal Mansion in the Book of Fate. As the number one sect in the cultivation world, although it was naturally not as grand as his Palace in the Ninth Heaven, the architectural style in the mortal world was also quite interesting.