Chapter 9:

“Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!”

“Without spiritual roots, how can you practice in the future?”

Within the Forest Sword Palace, shrouded in misty green smoke and the shadows of ancient trees, Li Wanshou’s voice thundered. His usually kind face was now contorted in anger. For the first time, he shouted at Xu Xi, his frustration evident.

To provoke such rage from the typically gentle old man showed just how furious he truly was.

“It’s simple—I just won’t practice anymore, Master,” Xu Xi replied calmly, a faint smile on his face.

Perhaps because this simulation had already reached its conclusion, Xu Xi displayed no hesitation, even when faced with his master’s wrath.

A brief pause hung in the air before Xu Xi continued, his tone softer: “Besides, I only have a few years left to live. Whether I practice or not doesn’t matter anymore.”

Li Wanshou froze at these words. The anger on his face gave way to a complex mix of emotions as he stared at his beloved disciple, now devoid of cultivation.

“Tell me everything,” he finally said. “Explain from the beginning—what exactly have you done?”

“Yes, Master.”

Without any hesitation, Xu Xi recounted his journey: how he studied external spiritual roots, how he conducted his experiments, and how he burned himself—his cultivation, his spiritual roots, and his very life force—to create them.

“Unbelievable,” Li Wanshou muttered, his eyes wide with shock.

In his astonishment, he accidentally tugged on his long white beard, pulling out a few strands.

“I only mentioned it casually, and you actually succeeded in creating external spiritual roots…”

“A genius—a heaven-blessed genius!”

Li Wanshou’s initial joy quickly turned to regret. Shaking his head, he sighed deeply.

“What a pity… if only you hadn’t severed your spiritual roots, you might have ascended to immortality one day.”

He paced back and forth across the hall, shaking his head and muttering to himself. At last, he stopped and stamped his foot in frustration.

“Traitor! Why were you so reckless? Do you even understand what you’ve done? Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?”

Xu Xi met his master’s scolding with a calm expression, slightly shaking his head.

“If I had told you, Master, you would have stopped me,” he replied.

“I understand your intentions—you would have wanted me to take my time, to find a way to save Mo Li without sacrificing myself. But I couldn’t do it.”

“I couldn’t stand by and watch someone I love die.”

Li Wanshou opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. He could only sigh.

He gazed at Xu Xi with a mixture of helplessness and resignation, as if seeing a child who had finally grown up—a moment bittersweet for any elder.

“Very well,” Li Wanshou said at last. “Since this was your decision, as your master, I have nothing more to say.”

He let out a deep sigh before adding:

“I’ll handle matters with the sect. I can still speak on your behalf. But regarding Mo Li…”

He hesitated, his words faltering.

He knew how close the siblings were. If Xu Moli discovered that her brother had sacrificed everything for her, she might collapse emotionally.

The soft breeze rustled the ancient trees outside the hall, their shadows swaying like waves. Somewhere in the distance, the low hum of an ancient bell echoed faintly.

“I won’t tell her the truth,” Xu Xi said quietly, his gaze distant. “After some time, I’ll leave the Tianjian Sect.”

“When that happens, I’ll entrust Mo Li to you, Master.”

The truth was too cruel. Even the most resilient person would feel unbearable guilt upon learning that someone they loved had traded their life for theirs.

And for Xu Moli, who had always depended on her brother, the revelation would be devastating.

…

After finishing his discussion with his master, Xu Xi left the Forest Sword Hall, an ancient wooden sword strapped to his back.

The sword had been thrust upon him by Li Wanshou, who muttered as he handed it over:

“Take this, traitor! At least it’ll keep you from being beaten to death by mortals and embarrassing me outside!”

Li Wanshou’s curses echoed as he slammed the palace doors shut behind Xu Xi, as if he never wanted to see him again.

Standing outside the hall, Xu Xi reached behind him, his hand closing around the hilt of the wooden sword. Mana fluctuations rippled from the blade—its original owner’s permission imprinted upon it, allowing even a mortal to wield it.

“Disciple accepts your gift,” Xu Xi murmured.

…

Returning to the cave, Xu Xi remained by Xu Moli’s bedside for two days, ensuring the external spiritual root fully integrated with her body. The calamity of Heaven’s Misfortune dissipated entirely.

In its place, a newfound vitality emerged within the girl, an inexplicable sense of breakthrough.

Though she had not yet begun formal cultivation, her innate talent propelled her toward transcendence.

“Brother…”

Xu Moli’s voice was soft and weak, like the rustling of leaves. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

She soon realized her body no longer ached. Instead, she felt an unfamiliar lightness and ease.

“It’s wonderful,” she said, a sweet smile spreading across her face. “Brother kept his promise to Mo Li.”

“Yes,” Xu Xi replied, gently holding her now warm, delicate hand.

Like holding a fleeting flower.

Like catching a summer breeze.

His voice, weary yet tender, carried a quiet joy.

“Brother promised to save you, and I’ve kept my promise.”

The girl’s smile grew brighter, though tears welled in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, brother,” she said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I don’t know why, but I feel like crying.”

“It’s as if something really sad happened… but I should be happy now.”

Xu Moli clutched the hem of her clothes tightly, as if afraid of losing something precious—something vital to her very being.

“It’s okay,” Xu Xi said softly, stroking her hair.

“Maybe you’ve just been asleep for too long. Your body’s adjusting. Don’t worry—it’ll pass.”

The 17-year-old girl hesitated. She felt something was amiss but couldn’t pinpoint it.

Xu Xi, after all, had never lied to her before.

Reassured, her emotions calmed.

What did it matter?

As long as her brother was there, nothing else mattered.

“Brother,” she asked, gripping his hand tightly, “will you ever leave Mo Li?”

“…No, I won’t.”

This was a lie.