Chapter 85: The Wailing of the Crow

Chapter 85: The Wailing of the Crow

A single sword strike cleaved through the thick haze.

The world instantly became clear.

The great Xuanhuang Mist-Hidden Formation gradually dissipated, revealing the figures of Chen Yin and his companions under the gentle breeze.

All the disciples of the Misty Spirit Sect stared in terror at what had just transpired.

“What… what happened?”

“How could the Xuanhuang Mist-Hidden Formation be broken so easily?”

“Who did this? Was it the Immortal Yu Ling?”

Some disciples noticed the Sect Leader, Wu Xun, heavily injured and frail, and rushed forward to support him.

“Sect Leader!”

Wu Xun said nothing, merely waved them away with a darkened expression, signaling them to keep their distance.

Chen Yin glanced at the scattered ashes of the sect's secret disciples around him before turning his gaze to the elders.

“There were three others shown in the Changli Palace scene,” he said.

“Xiang’er, how do you want to deal with them?”

He turned and handed the Eternal Bright Sword to Yu Xiang.

Yu Xiang’s eyes were filled with a dazed expression.

Her pale, delicate face trembled slightly as she bit her lip.

She finally grasped the sword and walked slowly toward the three elders.

At this moment, most of the Misty Spirit Sect disciples were lost in confusion, unsure of what to do. A few die-hard loyalists attempted to step forward to shield the elders.

Before they could take a step, however, a figure in a flowing blue dress appeared before them, her sword glowing faintly like moonlight, barring their way.

“Enough.”

Shen Shuanglian lowered her gaze and spoke softly, “This is a matter between the elders. We disciples… must not get involved.”

Step by step, Yu Xiang approached the three elders, her resolve growing firmer with each step.

“W-wait!”

One of the elders cried out in terror, “I had nothing to do with what happened at Changli Palace! It was all under the Sect Leader’s orders! I— I was only following commands! Please, spare me— I don’t want to die!”

“Hah! You wretch!” Another elder, his mouth stained with blood, sneered and cursed, “If I had killed you back then along with the others, none of this would have happened!”

“Alas, you reap what you sow,” the last elder sighed bitterly. “This is all karma… karma.”

Yu Xiang stopped in front of the three. Her face flickered with a whirlwind of emotions—hatred, rage, sorrow, satisfaction, and melancholy.

But in the end, she said nothing.

Instead, she silently raised her sword and decisively plunged it through their chests.

As the three bodies fell to the ground, her own body swayed slightly. Her knees weakened, and she nearly collapsed, but someone caught her just in time.

“I thought you would repay them in kind for what they did to you,” Chen Yin said softly, holding her shoulders.

Yu Xiang bit her lip, her eyes reflecting an indescribable blend of fragility and timidity.

“…I don’t want to waste any more time on them,” she said quietly.

“No matter how I torture them to death, my parents, senior brothers, and senior sisters… they’ll never come back.”

“If their spirits are watching, I’ll leave the vengeance to them.”

Chen Yin didn’t say much more. Instead, he asked, “Now that your great revenge is complete, how do you feel?”

Yu Xiang raised her eyes and whispered, “I feel lighter.”

“And… I feel like crying.”

“Then cry,” he said.

She pursed her lips tightly, then threw herself into his arms, pressing her head against his chest.

The sound of her long-repressed sobs, raw and piercing, filled the air.

It was the sound of a crow’s wings beating in the night sky.

The entire scene fell silent, leaving only her mournful cries to echo in the desolate air.

—As if even her soul had been shattered.

<+>

Chen Yin said nothing. He simply placed a hand on her head, silently waiting for her tears to subside.

Nearby, Yu Ling, Mu Susu, and Wan Yunhai stood before Wu Xun.

“Look at what you’ve driven this child to,” Yu Ling sneered with disgust. “Old scoundrel, you’ve truly brought this upon yourself.”

Wu Xun’s aged face trembled, and his murky eyes reflected an indescribable calm.

“—The victor writes the rules,” he rasped.

“If I couldn’t secure a Heavenly Dao Fragment, who’s to say the Misty Spirit Sect wouldn’t someday suffer the same fate, left at the mercy of others?”

Mu Susu and Wan Yunhai remained silent, but Yu Ling scoffed disdainfully.

“Pah. Cowardly, selfish, and bullying the weak. After all these years of cultivation, it’s no wonder you could never grasp the Heavenly Dao.”

“End yourself. Spare me the trouble of dirtying my hands,” she said, her gaze filled with loathing as though she were looking at a cockroach.

Wu Xun did not respond. Instead, he fixed his weary eyes on Mu Susu and Wan Yunhai.

“My friends,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“This was my own solitary decision. I will end it myself, but I ask that, for the sake of preserving order in the cultivation world, you spare what remains of the Misty Spirit Sect.”

Wan Yunhai only clasped his hands in silent acknowledgment, while Mu Susu replied with a graceful smile:

“Rest assured.”

“My Tianluo Sect has ample resources and no interest in the remnants of your Misty Spirit Sect, let alone its ill-fated legacy.”

“But from today onward...”

“The Misty Spirit Sect will no longer be counted among the great sects of cultivation.”

Upon hearing these words, a flicker of emotion crossed Wu Xun's eyes.

The next moment, his face turned immeasurably aged and weary, his gaze dimming into lifelessness.

“—What a pity,” he murmured.

“Yu Ling, among all my mistakes, the greatest was raising my hand against you.”

“I hope you can set aside your grievances and continue on your path as if we had never appeared.”

With that, he slowly closed his eyes.

At that moment, the sky grew darker.

Clouds gathered overhead, and a light drizzle began to fall.

Behind him, the wails of many Misty Spirit Sect disciples echoed sorrowfully.

Neither Mu Susu nor Wan Yunhai spoke further. Only Yu Ling gazed at Wu Xun’s lifeless body with a rare glimmer of emotion in her eyes.

“If only you hadn’t been so obsessed with the sect’s legacy…”

“…perhaps things wouldn’t have come to this, and you might have become True Immortal long ago.”

She turned away, brushing her sleeve, and Wu Xun’s body dissipated like fireflies in the wind.

Chen Yin silently watched it all unfold.

As raindrops fell upon his and Xiang’er’s faces, the sound of her sorrowful cries gradually subsided.

“—It’s over,” he said softly to Xiang’er.

Her reddened eyes blinked, and she nodded slightly.

“Let’s go home.”

“Mm.”

Just as he turned to leave, a hesitant voice called out, “Chen Yin—”

Chen Yin looked back to see Shen Shuanglian. Her clear eyes wavered with hesitation, her outstretched hand slowly retracting.

“Senior Sister, aren’t you coming with us?” he asked.

“…Give me some time,” she replied, pressing her lips together.

The Misty Spirit Sect is severely weakened now, leaderless. Someone must step up to manage the aftermath.”

She lowered her gaze, a hint of reluctance in her voice. “After all… I am the eldest disciple of the Misty Spirit Sect.”

Chen Yin nodded. “I understand.”

“No rush. Once you’ve finished dealing with the sect’s affairs, I’ll come back to bring you to Yushan Mountain.”

Shen Shuanglian’s long lashes fluttered, and she lifted her eyes slightly.

She caught the subtle implication in Chen Yin’s words—he already considered her one of their own.

A quiet smile curved her lips, and she nodded obediently.

“Mm. I’ll wait for you.”

Her sweet smile lit up the rainy scene.

“Hey, what about me?!”

Luo Qiaoqiao suddenly darted over, pouting indignantly. “Can’t I go to Yushan Mountain with you too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Chen Yin unceremoniously flicked her forehead. “Your mother’s right there watching. Be a good girl and go home with her.”

“Ugh!” Luo Qiaoqiao scowled, her eyes brimming with tears as her lips pursed dramatically.

“I don’t want to! I want to go with you!”

Chen Yin sighed, exasperated.

This girl—once she started acting up, she wouldn’t listen to anyone.

Fortunately, before the situation could escalate, a slender arm reached out, grabbing Luo Qiaoqiao by her collar and pulling her away.

“Enough. Stop being so oblivious. They still have matters to settle as master and disciple—what would you even do tagging along?”

“Come home with me, and stop causing trouble,” Mu Susu said sharply.

“No! I don’t wanna go home!” Luo Qiaoqiao’s whining protests faded into the distance, leaving Chen Yin to breathe a sigh of relief. He silently thanked Vice Master Mu in his heart.

Turning back, he noticed something.

“Where’s Master? She was just here a moment ago.”

Wan Yunhai offered an awkward chuckle.

Chen Yin: “...”

—Understood.

It seemed the Misty Spirit Sect’s treasure vault was about to be emptied.

Knowing her character, his master would never let herself suffer a loss. With everything that had happened, there was no way she’d leave without recouping her share.

“Pavillion Master Wan, thank you for everything,” Chen Yin said earnestly.

Wan Yunhai waved his hands quickly. “It was nothing, really. I only lent a small hand.”

“Besides—this was ultimately the will of the esteemed Immortal Yu Ling. Without her decree, I wouldn’t have dared intervene, given our Wanxiang Pavilion’s principle of neutrality in the cultivation world.”

Chen Yin blinked, voicing a question that had long been on his mind.

“Does my master truly hold such authority? Even someone of your stature gives her such respect?”

“Well…”

Wan Yunhai scratched his head, chuckling nervously.

“It’s not about respect—it’s a rule passed down by the ancestors of our pavilion.”

“If the esteemed Immortal Yu Ling ever has a need, the entire pavilion must spare no effort to fulfill it, without expecting anything in return.”

Hearing this, Chen Yin couldn’t help but marvel.

Unbelievable.

This wasn’t just influence—she practically had the entire Wanxiang Pavilion at her disposal.

And this rule, passed down from the ancestors… Just how old was this woman?

“However, Immortal Yu Ling rarely involves herself in our pavilion’s affairs or the cultivation world at large. She mostly relies on us for information,” Wan Yunhai added.

“This time, I suspect she truly lost her temper.”

A flicker of lingering fear crossed Wan Yunhai’s eyes.

Chen Yin’s expression turned contemplative. He wanted to inquire further about the recording device but decided against it for now. Instead, he said, “I’ll visit you at the pavilion when there’s an opportunity.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” Wan Yunhai replied with a polite bow.

With everything finally resolved, Chen Yin felt a weight lift from his heart.

Looking down at Xiang’er, who nestled quietly in his arms, he spoke softly.

“Let’s not worry about Master anymore.”

“Let’s go home.”

Xiang’er nodded slowly.

In the rain, as dark as ink, their figures leaned on one another for support—

—gradually fading into the distance.

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