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"Animal. Live. No. Such as." When Shen Lian coldly spat out those four words, each syllable was like a blade slicing the silence.
"Shen Lian! What do you mean by that?" Yu Zhongqing, chief disciple of the Ninth Hall, flushed with fury. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly who Shen Lian meant when he said worse than beasts.
"What do I mean? No need to guess. It's exactly what you think." Shen Lian looked up slowly, his gaze ice-cold and cutting. Yu Zhongqing, groomed for greatness by Master Xuanming himself, had been viewed as the inheritor of his legacy. With a divine body ranked among the top hundred in the Cangxuan Realm, blessed with super-first-class root bones, his talent was undeniable. Xuanming spared no effortârisking his life, venturing into perilous realms to find rare medicinal treasuresâtreating him better than even his own daughter, Zhao Linger. Yet when disaster struck, Yu Zhongqing was the first to abandon him. Calling him ungrateful was too kind.
"Youâ!" Yu Zhongqing's fury blazed, but with Sect Leader Zhuang Changdao watching nearby, he swallowed his words, snorted, and flicked his sleeves. "Let's go." With that, he led the defectors of the Ninth Hall away without looking back.
After they disappeared, Zhuang Changdao, the Tai Xuan Jianzong Sect Leader, stepped forward. He patted Xuanming's shoulder and sighed. "Master Xuanming, in this world, when the tea is cold, people walk away. Let it go." Then he, too, departed.
In the vast, silent Ninth Hall, only Shen Lian, Master Xuanming, and Zhao Linger remained. "Lian'er, no need to take it to heart. If they leave, let them," Xuanming spoke with a bitter smile, but his eyes held deep relief.
"It's fine," Shen Lian answered with a faint smile. Master Xuanming rubbed his temples and said, "Lian'er, after a few days' rest, go to the Third Peak and continue your cultivation. Don't waste your future over this."
"Master, I understand. Don't worry. But even if I leave, it will only be after your final journey." Master Xuanming's face turned paler, and Shen Lian quickly signaled Zhao Linger to help him back to his room.
After settling him, Zhao Linger returned to Shen Lian's side. "Brother Lian... thank you, for today," she said softly, her voice delicate, eyes still swollen from crying. "We're family. No need for thanks." Shen Lian gently wiped her tears and smiled as he ruffled her hair. "It's late. Rest early." He turned and walked away, and Zhao Linger stood there, lost in thought as she watched him go.
In troubled times, truth reveals itself. Who would've believed that the boy they rescued from the mortal world was now the last one standing beside them? Without realizing it, Shen Lian had become the backbone of the Ninth Hall.
In the days that followed, Shen Lian trained even harderâFourth Stage of Qi Refinement, then Fifth, then Sixth. Since the day Master Xuanming returned from the Yuhai Plains, Shen Lian had broken through three stages in just a few monthsâmatching the top-tier disciples of the entire Tai Xuan Jianzong. But he kept quiet, practicing alone, no boasting, no showing off. The once-thriving Ninth Hall was all but abandoned, silence hanging heavy in the air. Aside from occasional exchanges with Zhao Linger and Master Xuanming, Shen Lian buried himself in Closed Door Training, pursuing enlightenment in solitude.
But Yu Zhongqing wasn't finished. He didn't return in person. Instead, he whispered venom into the ears of Tai Xuan's Holy Maiden, Zhuang Xingyue, painting Shen Lian as a schemerâclaiming he had driven everyone away to seize Master Xuanming's relics. Zhuang Xingyue, noble yet naive, was at first unsure, but more defectors echoed the story, and slowly, doubt turned to belief. Then came her wrath.
With righteousness burning in her chest, Zhuang Xingyue stormed the Ninth Hall with a crowd. The commotion forced Sect Leader Zhuang Changdao to intervene personally. To maintain order, he punished both sidesâtwo hundred strokes each. Zhuang Xingyue was confined to her home under orders to reflect, while Shen Lian was sentenced to Siguoyaâthe Cliff of Reflection. Neither was permitted to leave.
Siguoya stood behind the Tai Xuan Jianzong, once the secluded place where the Sword Sect's founder, Chen Xuanfeng, achieved enlightenment in his final days. After his death, it became a forgotten sacred ground, eventually repurposed as a site for punishment and reflection.
That night, beneath the sparse moon and scattered stars, Shen Lian leaned against the cold cliffside, a dogtail grass in his mouth as he stared up at the vast starry sky. It was the first moment in a long time he wasn't immersed in cultivation. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a worn, cracked admission letter. The ink had faded. Three years had passed. He wondered how his parents and sister were doing back on Earth.
His fingers brushed against the stone wall. "Huh? This pattern⊠is reversed?" he frowned. Reaching out again, he noticed the texture was wrongâunnatural. Natural stone shouldn't grow that way. "Then⊠this was carved?" His pupils shrank as he pushed aside the weeds and stood up. Under the moonlight, the rock surface revealed an intricate web of intersecting linesâa massive star map.
Shen Lian's mind ignited. He began deconstructing the complex crisscrossing rock patterns, reassembling them in his mind, searching for meaning. His eyes lit up as the countless rock markings shifted and evolved before his gaze. They weren't random. They were sword intentâleft behind by a true master.
In that moment, a new world opened before him. A world of sword and star.
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