Chapter Sixty-Four: Success or Failure

Rustle—

Fang Junmei ran through the tall wild grass, his long strides stirring up a crisp rustling sound that rang out with startling clarity in this quiet, illusory world.

Run!

Run!

His eyes were glazed, as if bewitched...

No matter how hard he chased, the sword ahead always kept a fixed distance—not too far, not too close—dangling hope before him, yet ever out of reach.

Time slipped by, unmeasured, until a heavy exhaustion finally began to spread, rising from his feet and seeping into every sinew, every bone.

Fang Junmei had endured the first ordeal of the Blood-Draining Pill, his will now solid as stone. He felt no discouragement, took no rest; instead, the fire of determination blazed ever fiercer in his eyes. Not only did he not stop, he pressed on harder still.

A roar—

From Fang Junmei’s throat burst a cry like a furious dragon.

Though his body seemed at its limit, his speed only increased, his long black hair streaming behind him, his breath surging with rare strength.

Chase!

Chase!

In this illusory realm, there was no moon, no sun, no time, no other soul—only earth and sky, a single man, and a single sword.

...

But as Fang Junmei accelerated, so too did the sword, and the distance between them grew ever greater.

Drenched in sweat, a faint sense of defeat began to creep over his heart, and with it, the long-forgotten heaviness of fatigue crashed back over him.

A stumble—

He tripped and fell heavily to the ground.

The moment he hit the earth, exhaustion peaked within him, a force so overwhelming he wanted nothing more than to lie there and never rise again.

“Let me rest a moment, just a moment more…”

His head pressed deep into the grass, Fang Junmei gasped for air, rivers of sweat running down his face as he muttered to himself.

Suddenly—

The silver sword, once distant, halted and spun, flying back toward him, its presence drawing near.

A clear ring!

A sword’s song, brimming with a strange, almost human emotion, rang out from the silver blade.

Hearing it, Fang Junmei raised his head and managed a wry smile. He thought suddenly of Chunyu Qian’s favorite tactic: striking him with a stick, then handing him a date. He realized the sword was either encouraging him—or mocking him.

“The second realm of the Sword Path… I can’t give up here… I must succeed, or like Tao Xi, I’ll be forever trapped in this world of medicine, never able to leave.”

Having reclaimed his original purpose, he renewed his vow to never give up.

His gaze sharpened as he gritted his teeth, staggered to his feet, and forced himself forward once more.

Clumsy and slow at first, his pace gradually steadied, and soon he was striding after the sword again, drawing on every last ounce of strength, his eyes now fierce as well as resolute.

As soon as he stood, the sword turned and shot off ahead, and the chase began anew.

...

A long pursuit.

But always, just as he gained a little ground, the sword would surge forward and widen the gap, toying with him.

Whenever Fang Junmei collapsed to the ground, the sword would stop, turn, and sing out again, spurring him to tap into every last reserve of potential.

Time and again, he pushed himself beyond his limits.

The ordeal was agonizing and drawn-out. Had he not already tempered his spirit with six previous pills, Fang Junmei would have collapsed and given up long ago.

On and on the cycle went…

Time passed, and at last, the endless plain began to change. In the distance rose a towering, conical mountain, sharp as an awl, standing two or three thousand yards high. The sword was flying toward its peak.

Fang Junmei fixed his gaze on the mountain, a sudden realization taking hold: the summit must be the finish line. If he failed to catch the sword before reaching it, his chance to use the Blood-Draining Pill to advance to the second realm of the Sword Path would be lost forever.

He was not a greedy man, nor did he care for glory or renown, but with such an opportunity before him, how could he simply let it slip by?

“I will—catch up to Gu Xijin, right here!”

He shouted aloud, and the flawless figure of Gu Xijin flashed before his eyes. With renewed purpose, he surged forward, breaking through his limits once more, his speed increasing.

Thud, thud, thud—

The ground beneath him seemed to ring like steel, each step pounding out thunderous echoes that rolled across the illusory world.

Each step louder than the last.

Within those footsteps rang an unshakable resolve and the most determined pursuit!

In this moment, all weariness was forgotten.

...

The slope rose steeply toward the summit.

Fang Junmei’s eyes shone ever brighter, his strides ever quicker, the distance to the sword and the peak shrinking rapidly.

An urgent intensity gathered in his heart, swirling into an invisible storm.

Fifty yards.

Thirty yards.

Ten yards.

...

“Stop right there!”

He shouted as he closed within five yards. Planting his right foot firmly, he leapt forward, reaching out to seize the sword by its hilt.

…

Crash!

The instant his hand touched the illusory sword’s hilt, the entire world dissolved.

Back in the real world, inside the wooden hut atop the Immovable Peak, Fang Junmei finally opened his eyes. Two rays of golden sword-light shot from his gaze, sharp as blades.

“I caught it!”

Joy surged through him as he realized he was awake again.

He was about to stand, but stopped himself at once, sensing something strange within his body. The power of the Blood-Draining Pill was not yet spent; in fact, it was only now truly beginning.

Within him, his blood boiled and surged like water on the brink of eruption. At the very center of his bloodstream, his spirit could clearly see a slender golden arc darting back and forth.

The moment his blood touched that golden arc, it began to change in even stranger ways.

The Blood-Draining Realm!

Could Fang Junmei truly succeed?