Ming Zhu burned with fever for three whole days, his mind nearly scorched into a stupor. He frequently grabbed Shen Dian, who was tending to him, calling him "Mother" one moment and "Master" the next. At times, he would even sob like a child, leaving Shen Dian in a state of miserable exhaustion.
Shen Dian had studied medicine since childhood; any disciple of Rizhao Mountain who felt unwell would seek him out. Consequently, he had been the sole caretaker for Ming Zhu these past few days, and he had already grown noticeably thinner from the ordeal.
Meanwhile, Ming Zhu’s act of slashing his own face and kneeling outside the hall had, as he intended, brought a fair share of trouble to Perfected Master Gui Ning.
The Great Sect Tournament was only a few months away. Shang Yanfeng, who was originally in full charge of the arrangements, had simply dropped his responsibilities. He completely ignored Gui Ning’s orders, staying within the walls of Buzhiya and refusing to step foot outside, nearly driving Gui Ning to his wit's end with rage.
Every time Gui Ning summoned him for questioning, Shang Yanfeng would reply coldly, "Eldest Senior Brother is injured. I must look after him; I fear I have no time."
Gui Ning: "..." *That little brat!*
Left with no choice, he had to hand the matters over to Yi Fuju. Although Yi Fuju also harbored grievances regarding Gui Ning’s actions, he was not as blatant as Shang Yanfeng. He accepted the full responsibility without refusal, soon becoming so busy his feet barely touched the ground.
After several days of drifting in and out of consciousness, Ming Zhu finally struggled awake from a nightmare. Feeling as though he had stepped into a void, he instinctively rolled over and tumbled straight off the bed.
The room was empty. Outside, the moon hung high in the branches, and a profound silence reigned.
Ming Zhu climbed to his feet, feeling his entire body sapped of strength. However, he had spent enough days lying down. After catching his breath for a few moments, he walked slowly to the veranda outside the living quarters. He sat cross-legged, staring listlessly at the pond before him, lost in thought.
The surroundings were deathly quiet. Ming Zhu stared blankly for a long time before finally stepping off the veranda stairs with bare feet.
Kua Yu appeared, rubbing its eyes sleepily. "Zhu-zi?"
Ming Zhu didn't speak. He continued his movements with an expressionless face, not stopping even when he reached the edge of the pond.
The icy water rose over his feet, his calves, and then his thighs, soaking his thin robes until they clung tightly to his body.
Kua Yu floated in mid-air, tugging at his hair. "Hey! Zhu-zi, are you trying to drown yourself?"
The sensation of his hair pulling against his scalp acted like a wake-up call. Ming Zhu froze in place, suddenly murmuring, "Hot..."
Kua Yu paused. "Is it the spiritual veins?"
Ming Zhu looked at the water before him vacantly, whispering, "I... I feel so miserable..."
Kua Yu’s toes brushed the surface of the water as it gave him a light hug, coaxing him softly, "It’s okay, it’s okay. It’ll get better."
Ming Zhu was stunned for a moment. Then, he slowly crouched down, letting the water submerge him entirely.
Kua Yu watched him curl into a ball beneath the surface and finally realized something was wrong. It flew in rapid circles over the water. "Zhu-zi? Ming Zhu! This isn't the Cold Pool. It’s useless even if you soak here! Quick, get up, okay? I’ll take you to the Cold Pool. You’re going to have an accident here!"
When Ming Zhu first arrived at Rizhao, his body had been frail due to the Red Lotus Spiritual Veins. For several years, he lived in Gui Ning’s hall before eventually moving to Buzhiya.
When the courtyard was being arranged, the Fifth Junior Brother—who had just arrived at Rizhao and was infatuated with beauty—had spent all day trailing after Ming Zhu. He had heard Ming Zhu mention in a daze that he wanted a pond to raise fish. Ming Zhu had only said it in passing, but the young Shang Yanfeng had been incredibly earnest. He had used his spiritual power to blast a massive crater into the earth and diverted spring water into it, barely managing to create a pond.
The water in the Cold Pool was infused with a spirit-gathering formation drawn by Gui Ning, which could keep Ming Zhu alive underwater for ten years. However, the spring water in the backyard pond possessed not a shred of spiritual energy. Given Ming Zhu’s current cultivation, he would likely suffocate after half an hour.
Ming Zhu’s face was calm as he lay curled and motionless beneath the water. Kua Yu wanted to drag him out but was too afraid of the water to dive in.
Growing increasingly frantic, Kua Yu suddenly sent out a cry for help through the spiritual connection of the Spider-Link.
Soon, Shang Yanfeng rushed over. At a glance, he saw Kua Yu hovering over the water, its toes trembling as they touched the surface.
Lying in the water, Ming Zhu felt as though his entire body was scalding, as if a fire were burning inch by inch along his meridians. He instinctively wanted to scream, but a voice suddenly roared in his ear.
*“Can’t you hold on any longer? Are you going to give in?”*
Ming Zhu thought dizzily, *“Yes, I can’t hold on anymore.”*
*“Do you want to die?”*
Ming Zhu thought, *“I don’t.”*
Ming Zhu was in a muddle, feeling as though his entire being was floating in mid-air, while sharp interrogations rang in his ears.
*Can’t you hold on?*
*Do you want to die?*
*“Are you a piece of trash?”*
Deep within his memories, a layer of ash was suddenly wiped away by a gentle hand, and Ming Zhu’s vision was instantly filled with light.
Willows swayed, and white catkins drifted through the air.
“Brother?” Little Fuhua’s face was full of innocence. She blinked and tugged at his hand, whispering, “What does it mean to have ‘no spiritual veins’?”
Little Ming Zhu sat on the grass, nonchalantly weaving a ring out of willow twigs. He tilted his head slightly and said with a hint of anger, “Why are you asking that? Did someone say something to you again?”
Fuhua nodded. “The people from the Ye family said I’m a waste with no spiritual veins, and that I only know how to embarrass Father.”
Ming Zhu’s cheeks puffed out in rage. He threw the half-finished willow ring onto the ground, scrambled up, and took Ming Fuhua’s hand. “That bastard Ye Weiyang! Come on, Fuhua, I’m going to give him a beating to vent your anger!”
Fuhua knew her brother had a bad temper whenever it concerned her. She quickly pulled his hand, coaxing him in a small voice, “It’s fine, Brother. Don’t get into trouble.”
Ming Zhu huffed. Spiritual energy surged in his hand, and an exquisite ice sword appeared, shimmering with wisps of frost. He patted Ming Fuhua’s shoulder and said, “Don’t be afraid.”
Ming Zhu aggressively led his sister all the way to the Ye family estate. When the Ye servants saw him, they didn't dare block his path. He marched in unimpeded, found Ye Weiyang, and gave him a thrashing—though he ended up covered in bruises himself.
The young Ye Weiyang’s body was half-bruised and purple from Ming Zhu’s frost. He jumped up from the ground in a rage. “Are you sick in the head, Ming? Do you even know how to talk things out? Fine, I said Fuhua has no spiritual veins, but I wasn't wrong! Was it really worth making such a scene?”
Ming Zhu spat at him, coughing up a mouthful of bloody saliva with a rogue-like defiance. “I’m beating you precisely because of that! Since you look down on those without spiritual veins so much, I curse your newborn brother to be a waste without spiritual veins too! When the time comes, I’ll mock him to death and let him taste the grievances my sister felt!”
Ye Weiyang flew into a rage upon hearing this. He grabbed a broken sword from the ground. “Ming Zhu! You can talk about me, but you dare mention my brother? If I don’t beat you into a cripple, my name isn't Ye!”
The two scuffled again. Their meager cultivation made the fight look like two fledglings pecking at each other. Eventually, they resorted to pulling each other’s hair. They fought until midnight, only being separated when Ming Zhao finally arrived.
Ming Zhu lay gasping for air against Ming Zhao’s arm, unable to speak a full sentence, yet he continued to hurl threats in broken breaths. “See... see who... cripples who... you little brat... *ptui!*”
Ye Weiyang was helped up by servants, but he still struggled to lung forward. “You’re the... little brat! Come down here if you have the guts!”
Ming Zhao was both annoyed and amused. He spent a long time apologizing to the Master of Longnight Villa before finally heading home.
As soon as Ming Zhu regained some strength, Ming Zhao grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the Ming family ancestral hall to kneel as punishment. Ming Zhu was stubborn; if he was told to kneel, he knelt.
Ming Zhao sat in a chair to the side with his legs crossed, humming as he ate pastries. “Do you know what you did wrong?”
Ming Zhu had fought for half the day and then knelt for half the night; he was already starving. Yet Ming Zhao was eating leisurely right beside him. His stomach growled, but he endured it, gritting his teeth. “I did nothing wrong!”
Ming Zhao looked at him meaningfully, speaking with earnest intent. “Son, just admit your mistake to your father, and this matter will be over. If you keep being this stubborn, I’ll have to bring out the family switch.”
At the mention of the family switch, Ming Zhu felt a flash of panic, but he maintained a facade of composure. “Ye Weiyang was in the wrong. I am not.”
Ming Zhao leaned forward, looking into his son’s stubborn eyes. He sighed. “Son, follow your father’s lead. ‘I. Was. Wrong.’ Just three words. Very easy to say. Be a good boy.”
Ming Zhu paused for a moment before humming with a face full of shame and anger, “I was wrong.”
Ming Zhao immediately clapped his hands. “Excellent. Bring out the family switch.”
Ming Zhu: "..."
Ming Zhu instantly leaped up from the ground, his frost energy exploding as he tried to freeze his bastard father into an ice sculpture. He shouted furiously, “You old scoundrel, you played me!”
Ming Zhao, smiling broadly, performed a hand seal to disperse Ming Zhu’s meager snowflakes. “Don’t be angry, don’t be angry. It’s not the first or second time I’ve played you. Just take it, won’t you?”
Ming Zhu: "..."
*Every single day, I want to commit patricide.*
In the end, Ming Zhu did not escape the family punishment. He spent half a month in bed before he could barely stand.
When Ming Zhao came to see him, he met Ming Zhu’s still-resentful gaze and smiled nonchalantly. He asked calmly, “Do you know why I punished you?”
Ming Zhu said through gritted teeth, “Because you think it’s fun.”
Ming Zhao acted surprised. “You actually figured that out?”
Ming Zhu: "..."
“Alright, alright, just a joke,” Ming Zhao comforted him. “There is another reason: you don’t understand the meaning of the phrase ‘beyond one’s depth.’”
Ming Zhu said sullenly, “I only wanted to stand up for Fuhua. Why should I care about anything else? Didn’t I give Ye Weiyang a beating? I guarantee that when he goes back, several of his bones will be broken, and he’ll be in agonizing pain every time it rains or snows!”
Ming Zhao gave him a light punch to the head, saying with a half-smile, “And what about yourself? Weren’t you beaten into a pathetic state as well?”
Ming Zhu covered his head and glared at him fiercely.
Ming Zhao remained unmoved. “Zhu-er, so-called revenge is about having a life left to enjoy the satisfaction after you’ve struck down your enemy. It’s not about foolishly rushing in to perish together with them. Do you understand?”
Ming Zhu puffed out his cheeks, still silent.
Ming Zhao looked at him and suddenly sighed softly, his voice turning gentle. “I know your heart wants to protect Fuhua. But have you ever thought...”
*Splash—!*
A hand suddenly reached out, grabbing Ming Zhu’s wrist and dragging him forcefully out of the icy water.
Shang Yanfeng threw him onto the bank and stepped out, dripping wet. He cursed, “Ming Zhu, are you looking for death?”
Ming Zhu’s eyes were vacant, his ears ringing.
*“...But have you ever thought about whether you actually have the power to protect others?”*
*“I punished you this time because I wanted you to know that with your current self, protecting Fuhua is simply impossible. If that Ye boy hadn't shown mercy this time, do you think you and Fuhua would have made it home alive? You won't be this lucky every time.”*
*“You can’t even protect yourself, yet you actually dream of protecting others?”*
*“Zhu-er, aren't you being... a bit too naive?”*
Ming Zhu listened dizzily to the echoes of mockery and interrogation in his ears. Then, his vision blurred, and Perfected Master Gui Ning appeared, dressed in white, looking down at him. His eyes were cold and expressionless, filled with the disdain one might show an ant.
*“You don’t have a choice.”*
Ming Zhu’s heart jolted as he allowed himself to fall into darkness.
Yes. Zhou Fuxue had no right to choose his own life, and neither did he.
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
明浮华 | Ming Fuhua | Ming Zhu's younger sister.
夜未央 | Ye Weiyang | A childhood rival of Ming Zhu from the Ye family.
明昭 | Ming Zhao | Ming Zhu's father.
长夜山庄 | Longnight Villa | The residence/sect of the Ye family.
宗门大比 | Great Sect Tournament | A major competition between cultivation sects.
易负居 | Yi Fuju | A disciple of Rizhao Mountain, likely a senior brother.
自不量力 | Beyond one's depth / Overestimating one's strength | A Chinese idiom meaning to overrate one's abilities.
