Severing Ties: The Sect Regrets My Departure Chapter 102

"Master, you’ve finally come out!"

"How did it go? Did you settle things with the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion? Do we have news on the Ink Chill Tower? Are we going to fetch reinforcements and wipe them out in one fell swoop?"

It wasn't until the sky had darkened into a bruised purple that Qin Meran finally emerged from the pavilion. Tang Bizhu, who had been waiting for half the day, immediately swarmed her with eager questions.

But as she prattled on, Tang Bizhu sensed something was wrong.

"Master... you... what is wrong?"

She noticed that her master, usually so poised and haughty, looked hollow. Qin Meran seemed absent-minded, her spirit wandering elsewhere. One hand was clenched white-knuckled around a letter.

Tang Bizhu was bewildered. Hadn't Master gone to investigate the Ink Chill Tower? Why did she look as if someone had stabbed her straight through the heart?

"Bizhu, how long has it been since you became my disciple?" Qin Meran asked suddenly, her voice faint.

"It has been thirty years now."

"Thirty years... time truly flies," Qin Meran murmured, staring at nothing. "Thirty years ago, when you first came to Ink Scroll Peak, you were respectful, cautious, and careful in your every action. Now, after just thirty years, you have changed so much..."

The comment startled Tang Bizhu. She hurriedly knelt on the cobblestones. "Master, please forgive me! This disciple has overstepped again!"

"It is fine. It is fine." Qin Meran shook her head slowly, her eyes unfocused. "Three years is enough to make an optimistic, smiling person lose their spring breeze smile and become silent and withdrawn. let alone the changes wrought by thirty years..."

Tang Bizhu remained kneeling, confused. She stole a glance upward and froze.

Qin Meran’s fair face was as pale as paper. Under the cold moonlight, tears seemed to shimmer in her eyes, threatening to fall. But before Tang Bizhu could look closer, Qin Meran turned away.

She refused to show such a pathetic side to her disciple.

Earlier, inside the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion, Wan Xiaobei had pestered her relentlessly about Gu Xiu. In the past, Qin Meran might have felt a surge of pride at hearing her junior brother praised. But this time, every word Wan Xiaobei spoke felt like being roasted over a slow fire.

In her mind, a voice surfaced unbidden, crossing the river of time to whisper in her ear.

“Senior Sister, although the path of cultivation is long and arduous, if you can always smile and have the spring breeze accompany you, I believe no hardship is insurmountable.”

“It’s just that your progress in the Dao of Talismans has stalled. Smile more. Frowning and looking miserable isn’t pretty.”

“Today, let's make a promise before this stone, shall we?”

“From now on, I shall laugh with the spring breeze, and live as an immortal of longevity in the mortal world!”

“It’s settled. Neither of us can lose the smile on our faces. Whoever loses it, loses!”

The voice from five hundred years ago was spirited, optimistic, and fearless—as if even the collapse of the sky could not daunt him.

Now, that memory was a blade, slicing her heart into ribbons.

It hurt. It hurt because she couldn't remember the last time he smiled.

She had clung to the image of that carefree junior brother, the one who could sweep away all gloom and pull her out of despair. She had relied on his strength, assuming he would always be that way.

She had forgotten that the optimistic boy had long since ceased to be optimistic.

He had fallen into the frost, and what had she done? She had watched coldly from the sidelines. She had added stones to the well he was drowning in. When the disciples of Ink Scroll Peak bullied him, she had pretended not to see.

Even worse...

“Senior Sister, regarding the Divine Invocation, you must not be impatient. Just wait patiently for the flowers to bloom. Even if Senior Sister truly cannot achieve Divine Invocation, your junior brother has a way to help you!”

The white-haired Gu Xiu had said this to her, long ago.

But she had never taken it to heart. She had dismissed it as the rambling of a cripple. She had treated his sincerity as a joke.

At this moment, even though Qin Meran tried to remind herself that Gu Xiu bore the grudge of severing her Dao, the cognitive dissonance was deafening. She could no longer convince her own heart.

A profound fear gripped her. She couldn't articulate what she was afraid of—or perhaps, she simply didn't dare to admit it.

"Master, your disciple has something to report!"

Tang Bizhu’s voice broke through the suffocating silence.

Qin Meran blinked, slowly returning to reality. "What is it?"

"Your disciple saw a person in the city earlier."

"What person?"

"Your teacher."

"What?" Qin Meran stunned. Her eyes widened. "Who did you say you saw?"

"I saw a person who looked very familiar," Tang Bizhu said hesitantly, gauging her master's reaction. "His aura was very similar to yours, Master. I observed him from a distance and realized... that person's appearance is extremely similar to the portrait hanging in your study on Ink Scroll Peak..."

Qin Meran’s heart hammered against her ribs.

Her Master was Guan Xuelan, the Mahayana Supreme of the Azure Mystic Sacred Land. But she had another teacher—the man she called 'Teacher,' who had guided her into the Dao of Talismans.

That teacher had disappeared ages ago. Qin Meran had searched for him for over a hundred years to no avail. She had assumed he had perished in some forgotten ruin.

And now...

"Where is he?" Qin Meran demanded, her voice trembling.

"This... your disciple doesn't know the exact location. But he was heading toward the southern district, as if searching for something."

"The Southern District?"

Qin Meran’s eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze toward the southern part of Cloud Firmament City.

Meanwhile, in a narrow alley in the Southern District.

A middle-aged Confucian scholar stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed deeply. He stared intently at a crumbling talisman in his hand.

"Damn it, why is it broken again?"

The scholar’s face twisted in gloom. "Why does my seventh-grade Dao Rhyme tracking only lead me to the south before vanishing completely? Is there some force interfering?"

His gaze swept the surroundings. It was a remote, dirty alley with nothing of note. Even when he mobilized his powerful perception as a Talisman Master, he found nothing.

He was perplexed. He had been in Cloud Firmament City for days. He possessed secret methods and was confident he could uncover the source of the "Homage of Ten Thousand Rhymes."

Yet, no matter how he searched, he ended up running in circles.

"Damn it. More and more people from the Azure Mystic Sacred Land are arriving," he muttered, anxiety gnawing at him. "If I can't find the source soon, once that Sword Immortal Gu Xiu arrives in person, I'll have no chance to turn things around!"

"Damn it! Damn it all!"

He assumed Gu Xiu was coming to claim the treasure, never suspecting that the "treasure" he sought was Gu Xiu himself.

While the scholar cursed in the alley, Gu Xiu was busy elsewhere.

He sat quietly in his courtyard, holding the Green Bamboo Rod.

Since he had fished up the Black Monkey Corpse Abandonment, the rod had been in a cooldown state. Now, the mysterious energy had returned.

Gu Xiu would never miss such an opportunity.

He gathered his spiritual energy into a thin, invisible line and flicked the rod. The hook vanished into the void.

Cast. Wait.

Learning from his previous experience with the monkey corpse, Gu Xiu settled in, prepared for a long wait. Patience was a virtue he had in abundance.

However, the moment he prepared to meditate, the rod tip dipped heavily.

A catch already?

Gu Xiu raised an eyebrow. He didn't hesitate, flicking his wrist to retrieve the line.

As the object materialized in his hand, Gu Xiu froze.

"This thing..." He stared at the object. "How did it come back?"

At that exact moment, celestial music resonated from the heavens.

Gu Xiu pushed open the door and stepped into the courtyard. Above, the phenomenon that had appeared days ago—the Immortal Gate—manifested once more.

But this time, the gate was not positioned over Cloud Firmament City. It hovered in the distant sky, directly above the direction of the Azure Mystic Sacred Land.

Someone at the peak of Foundation Establishment had condensed a perfect Golden Core.

Gu Xiu didn't need to guess. There was only one person it could be.

Jiang Xun.

Gu Xiu looked up at the celebratory vision in the sky, then looked down at the object he had just fished from the void.

His expression turned incredibly strange.