Volume Two: Snow over Qinchuan Chapter Fifteen: Another World (Part Two)

Having fled for a long time, Feng Yang was unsure how many people within the Divine Dynasty were currently searching for him.

Essentially, every faction within the borders of Yanbei was looking for him, and beyond Yanbei, the Taixuan Mountain was also hunting him down. Had the Xueyun Sect not been situated so far away, perhaps Xue Wuji would have dispatched his disciples to track Feng Yang as well.

Yet, the sheer might of Taixuan Mountain alone was already terrifying. Dozens of elders at the Glow-Illuminating realm had been dispatched, scouring nearly every inch of Yanbei's soil. The Abbott of Daoming Temple had even descended the mountain for the first time in a century. It must be known that not even when Dugu Feiyun ascended to immortality had the Abbott entertained the slightest thought of leaving his mountain.

Hearing the voice of the Abbott of Daoming Temple, the pressure that Feng Yang had accumulated over this period instantly dissipated, and a wave of profound exhaustion washed over him.

"Do not fear, your master has arrived." Perhaps sensing Feng Yang's emotional state, the Abbott chuckled softly. "Unless the Demon Lord himself appears here, no one can threaten you."

Feng Yang shook his head.

Just as he had told the Saintess of the Medicine Valley, he did not care about life or death.

Yet he could not die yet, for Yanbei had fallen, and once more he bore the heavy burden of national disgrace and family vengeance.

At this thought, his voice choked slightly. "Yanbei has fallen, and my father and mother's fates are unknown..."

The Abbott of Daoming Temple remained silent.

Feng Yang was an exceptionally intelligent person, and from the Abbott's silence, he seemed to have deduced something.

Thus, he did not continue, his gaze falling upon the distant horizon, his heart feeling hollow.

Since he stopped speaking, the Abbott naturally did not offer any answers either. Glancing at Feng Yang Juanlang, the Abbott flicked his sleeve, sending a gentle breeze rustling past. The latter snapped out of his stupor, wearing a dazed expression.

Feng Yang stepped forward and said, "Second Uncle, I am returning to Taixuan."

Taixuan?

Feng Yang Juanlang's mind buzzed before he finally managed to collect his wits.

The first thing he noticed was the middle-aged man in green Daoist robes standing inside the room. He thought to himself that this figure possessed an otherworldly and immortal aura—could this truly be the Abbott of Daoming Temple?

Ignoring whatever Feng Yang Juanlang was pondering, Feng Yang asked, "Will you come with me?"

Accompany you?

Feng Yang Juanlang was stunned, taking a moment to fully process the words.

He was returning to Taixuan Mountain?

Then what about Yanbei?

No, under the current circumstances, returning to Taixuan Mountain was undoubtedly the safest choice. After all, whether the war in Yanbei still held any variables remained unclear. Given Feng Yang's age and innate talent, returning to Taixuan Mountain first to grow fully before considering the restoration of Yanbei and seeking vengeance was the natural path.

But what about himself?

As a wanted criminal carrying a death warrant, by what right could he set foot on Taixuan Mountain? Remaining by Feng Yang's side during this period was driven by the fear that the youth might perish prematurely. Yet Taixuan Mountain was home to countless experts who could naturally protect Feng Yang well; in other words, he no longer had a reason to accompany the boy.

Most importantly, after wandering for half a lifetime, he was truly tired.

Even if he were to die, he wished to die in Yanbei.

Therefore, he very calmly rejected Feng Yang's proposal.

Feng Yang felt a trace of bewilderment, thinking that right now, several factions in Yanbei wanted him dead, and Taixuan Mountain was by all accounts a place worth going to—at the very least, his life would not be in jeopardy there.

Without offering an explanation, Feng Yang Juanlang said, "In the Divine Dynasty's proclamation regarding this battle, I found no mention of the Second Prince. Perhaps we still need to wait and see."

During his flight, Feng Yang had been unconscious for the majority of the time, but the older man had remained clear-headed.

Whether it was instigating the rebellion or quelling it, the Second Prince seemingly had done nothing at all.

This was highly abnormal. After all, the older man was quite certain that His Highness maintained deep ties with Xu Hai and Bohai; it made no sense for him to simply choose silence when matters reached this juncture.

The Third Elder of the Feng clan had not rebelled during the battle of Yanbei because he had long since been imprisoned, rendering him powerless to act.

What, then, of the Second Prince who stood behind that Third Elder?

Why had he too done nothing?

Having spent long years licking blood from the blade's edge, Feng Yang Juanlang smelled the scent of a deep conspiracy behind this affair.

Feng Yang knew nothing of these matters, but since the Second Prince was involved, it certainly carried immense risks—risks that a fugitive bearing a death warrant could not possibly bear.

He wanted to say more.

Feng Yang Juanlang shook his head. "I will manage on my own; do not worry."

Having spoken, he turned his gaze toward the Abbott of Daoming Temple and bowed deeply. "Then I leave him in your capable hands, Senior."

Thinking that protecting Feng Yang was merely the duty of a master, the Abbott remained silent.

Yet, being much older than Feng Yang Juanlang, he did not deliberately avoid receiving the bow.

Feng Yang Juanlang departed shortly after.

Watching Feng Yang, who remained lost in a daze, the Abbott asked, "Shall we leave as well?"

Feng Yang shook his head. "Wait a moment."

The Abbott raised an eyebrow, then knitted his brows together.

A peculiar young man had appeared within his line of sight.

Feng Yang asked, "Why are you here?"

The young man smiled. "I figured that wouldn't be the first thing you'd want to ask."

Feng Yang replied, "I cannot return right now, so whatever I ask has no meaning."

The young man looked somewhat surprised, then glanced over at the Abbott of Daoming Temple, figuring this person could be trusted.

The Abbott seemed to realize what subject they were about to discuss, and even with his lofty realm and state of mind, he felt his throat grow somewhat dry.

"Everything is fine at home. Someone entrusted me to come and keep an eye on you."

"Keep an eye on me for what?"

"Counting this, this must be the second time I have saved your life, and this is your attitude?"

"Answer my question first."

"I am your peer, not your prisoner."

"Then why did you come over?"

"Having watched you all these years, I originally thought your temperament had changed drastically, but seeing you now, you are still the exact same."

Feng Yang's gaze narrowed slightly. "You have been in Dao Abyss the entire time?"

The young man nodded. "Aren't you deeply moved?"

Gazing at him quietly, Feng Yang said, "Shi Xie, that is not your true nature. Why force yourself to act like this?"

So the young man was named Shi Xie.

The Abbott of Daoming Temple silently committed the name to memory.

Shi Xie did not care if people in this world knew his name, though he felt a brief awkwardness. "I have changed a great deal."

Feng Yang remarked, "Yet you remain just as cold-blooded."

Thinking to himself, while he certainly wasn't as hot-blooded as those naive youths, he could hardly be called cold-blooded—otherwise, how had Feng Yang managed to survive?

Feng Yang asked earnestly, "Why didn't you intervene?"

Shi Xie thought to himself that the boy was practically engaging in moral blackmail.

Yet, when the words reached his lips, they inexplicably transformed into: "Why don't you ask your master why he didn't intervene?"

Startled, Feng Yang turned his head to look at the Abbott.

The Abbott sighed. "Yanbei was destined to face this calamity, something beyond human power to alter. Even if I had intervened, it would not have changed the outcome of the battle."

Taixuan Mountain firmly believed in such principles, rarely stepping in to interfere with so-called destiny.

Yet Feng Yang could not understand why.

Why had the Abbott specifically cast a divination for Yanbei?

Why had Shi Xie, despite clearly never having met his master before, been able to instantly perceive the reason why neither of them had acted?

A bitter taste rose in his mouth. "Then why on earth did you appear here?"

Seeing Feng Yang's expression, Shi Xie felt a pang of reluctance. After pondering for a moment, he decided to reveal certain details without disrupting the established course of events. "Due to certain reasons, you cannot die."

Feng Yang sneered lightly. "Is that your reason for saving me?"

Shi Xie replied, "I saved you because we used to be friends, of sorts."

Feng Yang's voice grew even more sardonic. "So you could watch your friend's homeland be destroyed and his family and friends die violent deaths?"

"What a wonderful friend," Feng Yang laughed aloud, tears streaming down his face. "I could never afford to have a friend like you."

The topic returned once more to the battle of Yanbei.

Shi Xie thought to himself that he truly could not intervene. He might let other matters slide with one eye closed, but this particular event had been jointly plotted by the Heavenly Will and Heavenly Calculation. If he had genuinely appeared on the battlefield of Yanbei, leaving aside whether he could protect Yanbei, he would undoubtedly have been subjected to a grand reckoning by the Heavenly Dao.

He had met Li Jingxing and Dou Xiaotong; it was best to avoid contact with them if possible.

He did not fear combat or warfare, but he deeply dreaded schemes and stratagems.

Those two were the only monsters in the world capable of laying traps for those at the Harmony realm.

Seeing that Shi Xie offered no reply, Feng Yang lost all interest in continuing the conversation. "Let's go, Master."

Shi Xie frowned. "Wait."

Feng Yang looked at him, unwilling to even ask why or what the matter was.

Knowing that a thorn had already been planted in Feng Yang's heart, but realizing the youth's realm was still too low to comprehend the concepts of the Heavenly Dao and karmic retribution no matter how he explained it, Shi Xie could only leave it for the future.

He flicked his wrist, and a streak of silver light shot toward Feng Yang.

Catching it, Feng Yang found it to be a scroll.

Inscribed upon the scroll were four gleaming silver characters:

Grafting Flowers onto Jade.

"My Dao is not quite suited for you. Hearing the lad named Ting Fengqi mention that this cultivation technique fits you well, I slipped into the Yihua Palace and stole it while senior and junior brothers Zisang Bumu and Zisang Bushou were away."

Feng Yang frowned.

He did not reject Shi Xie's goodwill; to repeat, he now had a reason to live.

If possible, he also wished to slay his enemies with his own hands. Even if he could not personally kill the Barbarian Great Bright Palace Master and the Blood-Weeping Pavilion Master, he at least had to slaughter the Prince of Bohai.

Having handed over the technique, Shi Xie vanished in the blink of an eye.

"That friend of yours is formidable," the Abbott said softly.

Formidable?

Indeed.

This fellow had already surpassed common understanding back on Earth. Now, after all these years, having arrived in an environment even more suited for Dao cultivation, he was likely to experience a massive accumulation followed by a rapid breakthrough.

"Master, what realm is he roughly at?" Feng Yang inquired.

"On par with me." The Abbott paused in thought before adding, "No, his Dao path remains unbroken. Perhaps in the future, he might even reach the heavens."

What realm was the Abbott of Daoming Temple in?

The Grand Dao Saint of Taixuan was in the Divine Concealment realm; the Sword Immortal of Xueyun was in the Divine Concealment realm; the Divine Emperor was also in the Divine Concealment realm.

He stood a fraction higher than those three, a state known to the world as Half-Step to Heaven.

Even counting his previous life, Shi Xie was only a little over thirty years old—how could he have cultivated to such a terrifying degree?

Feng Yang narrowed his eyes, wondering what thoughts were churning within his mind.

Watching his expression, the Abbott thought that asking him about it after returning to Xueyun would not be too late.

Another gentle breeze swept past.

The figures of the Abbott and Feng Yang vanished from the scene.