Chapter Fifty-Seven: Worthless Failure

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Useless Waste

How could this be?

How could I be afraid of the sword?

It was always my greatest passion! Not because it could take lives, nor because of the power it brought me, but because of the way it resonated with my soul—the way it carried my dreams and hopes, the way it accompanied me in pursuit of ever loftier realms.

Fang Junmei lay on his back in the pool of blood, eyes wide open and unmoving. His body was dead, but his spirit still wandered.

Clang—clang—

The sound of swords did not cease. Blade after blade plunged into Fang Junmei’s body.

There was no pain.

Yet his fear of the sword grew ever stronger. That fear began, little by little, to morph into disgust.

…

In the real world, Chunyu Qian, that old man, was not practicing the sword this time. Alone, he stood atop the iron chain stretched over the molten lava, his eyes lowered in contemplation, his figure unmoving.

According to the description on that fragmentary alchemy recipe, the medicine’s effects would fade in at most ten days—either success or failure.

Now, day by day, time passed.

Chunyu Qian was tormented by anxiety.

The Bloodletting Pill required exceedingly rare and complex ingredients; he had managed to refine only three in total and had used two already. If he still could not discern the pill’s effects, the third would have to be used.

But that third pill was reserved for himself, for he had not yet attained success in comprehending the Bloodletting realm. Obsessed with alchemy, his talent in cultivation and swordsmanship was unremarkable. All his present strength and status were, for the most part, thanks to the pills he had refined.

Outwardly, he displayed absolute confidence in his alchemical skill, but inwardly, he dared not test it on himself lightly. First, he had tried it on his eldest disciple, Tao Xi, and now, he awaited Fang Junmei’s results.

One day.

Two days.

Three days.

Ten days crawled by in this fiery subterranean world, dragging on in endless torment. At last, they came to an end.

…

That day, Chunyu Qian finally opened the secret chamber’s door. Until then, he had not once used his spiritual sense to peer inside.

Upon entering, he saw Fang Junmei lying on the ground amid a pool of blood, face deathly pale, eyes closed, utterly still. Yet Chunyu Qian could sense that life had not yet fled from his body.

Fang Junmei’s current state was no different from what Tao Xi had shown years ago. Chunyu Qian’s heart sank instantly, foreboding gnawing at him.

With a flicker, as if tearing through space, he appeared beside Fang Junmei, knelt, and immediately began examining him.

Whether entering the Bone realm or the Bloodletting realm, if enlightenment was achieved, abnormal changes would appear within the body. But Fang Junmei showed none.

Undisguised disappointment immediately crept over Chunyu Qian’s face, quickly shifting to a profound, chilling malice. Disgust now colored his gaze as he looked at Fang Junmei.

“Useless waste! So many of my finest pills squandered, only to end in failure!”

Chunyu Qian snarled in a cold, sinister tone, and with a heavy kick, sent Fang Junmei flying. His body struck the wall with a dull thud before sliding to the floor.

Still he did not awaken; it was impossible to tell how many bones had been shattered by that angry blow.

Such was the cold reality: a failed Fang Junmei no longer merited Chunyu Qian’s attention.

In the blazing, stifling chamber, the very air seemed to grow cold.

After a few moments’ cold scrutiny, Chunyu Qian gave a snort, grabbed Fang Junmei, and strode upward.

…

Leaving the underground world, returning to the great hall, and then stepping out of the hall doors, Chunyu Qian tossed Fang Junmei onto the open ground as one might discard a dead dog. With a flick of his finger, he sent a gust toward the doors of a nearby building.

Creak—

Soon, the door opened and Song Shede emerged.

Seeing Fang Junmei lying on the ground, Song Shede’s pupils contracted sharply, his expression changing.

“Return this useless waste to the Immovable Peak.”

Chunyu Qian spoke coldly, then swept his sleeves and turned back into the main hall, slamming the doors behind him.

After a trembling glance, Song Shede hurried over to examine Fang Junmei’s condition. There was no need to ask—Fang Junmei had failed the trial. Now, Song Shede could only hope Fang Junmei was not dead, and had not, like his own senior brother, fallen into a coma from which he might never wake.

“Junmei! Junmei!”

He called repeatedly, but Fang Junmei did not respond. Song Shede quickly checked his injuries, then rushed him into his own quarters for treatment.

Every bone was shattered.

His skin seemed to have been pierced from within by sharp blades, covered in wounds.

Song Shede had seen such wounds once before—on his senior brother, Tao Xi—and so he treated them swiftly.

Even so, three days passed before Fang Junmei’s external injuries and broken bones began to mend. Only then did Song Shede return him to Immovable Peak.

…

When Fan Lanzhou and Linghu Jinjiao arrived, Song Shede offered a lengthy explanation, a look of guilt on his face.

Neither was a man to argue senselessly. They knew that ever since Fang Junmei had accepted the trial, there had been no turning back. Now that disaster had struck, even if they appealed to the master of the Celestial River, they would receive no justice. They had only themselves to blame.

“Brother Song, can you tell me what that ultimate pill was that Junmei took?” Fan Lanzhou asked, having finished examining Fang Junmei’s injuries.

Song Shede’s expression grew unusually solemn. “Forgive me, Brother Fan, but I cannot say.”

“Old Song, if you refuse even this, how are we of Immovable Peak supposed to find a way to wake Old Fifth?” Linghu Jinjiao said in dissatisfaction, not without reason.

Song Shede’s brows furrowed in a wry smile. After a brief hesitation, he said firmly, “I can only tell you this: our eldest brother on Medicine King Peak took the very same pill as Brother Junmei, and he is suffering the same symptoms. If we on Medicine King Peak find a cure for our eldest brother, we will come at once to save Brother Junmei as well.”

The two exchanged glances, realizing for the first time that Tao Xi, long absent, had also met with disaster.

“Gentlemen, I leave Brother Junmei in your care. I’ll take my leave now. If anything changes, please notify Medicine King Peak immediately.”

With that, Song Shede departed.

Soon, only the unconscious Fang Junmei and Fan Lanzhou remained in the room.

Fan Lanzhou’s face was bitter as he murmured, “Master has yet to recover, and now Junmei is in the same dire straits. Linghu, am I truly inferior to Eldest Brother? If he were here, Junmei would never have needed to take on this task. When Master finally wakes, how will I explain this?”

He was overcome with misery.

Linghu Jinjiao, hearing this, could only sigh and say, “Second Brother, with the grand tournament approaching, keeping Immovable Peak safe is what matters most. As for Old Fifth, let us put his trouble aside for now. Do not blame yourself—it was not your fault.”

Fan Lanzhou nodded slightly.

From that day onward, Immovable Peak gained another living dead man.

No one knew that, in that illusory world, a faint ember of Fang Junmei’s passion and devotion to the sword still flickered in his heart.

…

Time passed, day after day.

Neither the Daoist of Passing Years nor Fang Junmei awoke. No other changes occurred.

But at last, the sect’s grand tournament was about to begin!