Chapter 196: Xuanbao Pavilion

Early the next morning, Jiuyou left Ember Sword Peak and headed for Xuanbao Pavilion.

This pavilion sat atop a snowy cliff, suspended in the void. Divided into seven tiers, it was also known as the Seven Mysteries Spirit Treasure Pavilion—the place where the Daoyang Sect stored its greatest treasures.

Guided by a disciple on duty, he soon met the Supreme Elder guarding the pavilion. The man was Duan Bapo, the same physical cultivator Jiuyou had discussed the Dao with at the body refinement peak a few days prior; the two could be considered old acquaintances.

Duan Bapo led him upward through layers of restrictions, arriving directly at the seventh floor. The space here was far more expansive than the lower levels, divided into four halls, three palaces, and a pool. Treasures were arrayed according to their grade; the sheer richness of the collection made even Jiuyou secretly weigh its value.

His expression remained passive, but his gaze had already swept over the floor's layout and its hidden restrictions.

The defensive formations here were far less secure than those in the canyon, barely any stronger than the ones on the middle and lower floors. It looked as though a portion had been dismantled and not yet fully repaired.

He didn't relax his guard. Instead, he paid even closer attention. If this was a deliberately exposed flaw, the trap buried beneath it was likely massive.

The two walked through several corridors and arrived at the Spirit Mineral Hall.

Inside a sizable glazed vessel, Jiuyou spotted his goal for this trip: a block of Jinli Stone a full six zhang square. A heavy, flowing light rippled across its surface, looking like a golden cloud compressed by the weight of time.

He reached out and gently pressed his hand against the glass, his gaze lingering on the ore's surface for a moment. If he fully refined such a massive block of Jinli Stone, it would be enough to complete his Jinli Sword Formation. He quickly withdrew his hand, his expression returning to normal.

Seeing him stare so intently, Duan Bapo said, "This piece of Jinli Stone was originally something Senior Uncle Jinli asked the sect to seek out. After he left, the sect spent another century hunting for it before gradually gathering this much. He never returned, so it has been stored here ever since."

Jiuyou nodded and said nothing more.

Treasures in Xuanbao Pavilion could be exchanged in two ways: with merit points, or with spirit stones.

Jiuyou happened to have no shortage of the latter. He pulled out several storage pouches and placed them on the counter. They contained a total of fifty thousand mid-grade spirit stones—the precise amount needed to exchange for the Jinli Stone.

As Duan Bapo collected the spirit stones, his expression hardly changed, though his gaze lingered on the storage pouches for a fraction of a second. Fifty thousand mid-grade spirit stones was equal to several years of income for a small or medium-sized sect. He didn't ask any questions, however. He briskly finished the exchange, opened the glazed vessel, took out the Jinli Stone, and handed it over to Jiuyou.

The ore was heavy in his hands and carried a faint trace of heat. Jiuyou stowed it away, then casually asked about the Daoyang Ten Palaces Art.

Duan Bapo explained that he primarily focused on the path of body refinement; while he had dabbled in that cultivation method, it only allowed him to practice up to the Nascent Soul Late Stage. The versions held by the other late-stage Nascent Soul elders were largely the same. If Jiuyou wanted to inquire about its more profound aspects, he would likely have to consult those senior brothers.

Upon hearing this, Jiuyou didn't linger. He thanked the man, turned, and left Xuanbao Pavilion. As he walked out the doors, the wind rushed down between the snowy peaks, fluttering his robes. His pace was unhurried and his expression unreadable. A moment later, he transformed into a streak of escape light and flew away.

...

Hundreds of thousands of miles away, the blizzard was gradually subsiding.

A thick stench of blood saturated a hidden mountain cave, mixing with the frigid wind pouring through the entrance to create an uncomfortably heavy atmosphere.

A blood-soaked middle-aged man sat slumped on the ground. His robes were torn and his breathing was weak. His Nascent Soul was already tightly locked down by a freezing, sinister power, leaving him no room to even summon the thought of escape. If Jiuyou were here, he would instantly recognize this person as the patriarch of the Dong Family he had wiped out all those years ago.

Standing in front of him was a cultivator with the appearance of a young man. His features were delicate, but his eyes were as cold as a frozen lake on a winter night.

Shang Ming, the Grand Supreme.

Or, to use his other name: Fang Buxin.

His right hand hung at his side, fresh blood still dripping from his fingers. His other hand steadily held a jade box with its lid half-open, revealing a Level 10 Monster King Essence Soul brimming with restrained spiritual energy. His gaze rested inside the box, as if estimating the essence soul's value, or perhaps calculating his next step.

"Fang Buxin, oh, Fang Buxin, what a vicious heart you have. You break every promise... you are simply a despicable coward devoid of a conscience." Dong Yanwei's voice was hoarse, as if squeezed forcefully from his throat.

Fang Buxin did not answer. He merely tilted his head, acting as if he hadn't heard—or had, but couldn't be bothered to respond. He licked his chapped lips, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It held no murderous intent, nor did it hold any pity.

"How could you do this to me? How could you strike me down?" Dong Yanwei's voice gradually rose, carrying the raspy desperation of a man forced into a corner.

"I was the one who brought you into the Cold Ruins back then! Your soul was on the verge of scattering, but I gathered yin fiend energy for you. I found heavenly materials and earthly treasures for you, saving you hundreds of years of bitter cultivation so you could become a ghost-path cultivator. I was the one who tricked those people into entering the Cold Ruins so you could successfully carry out a body seizing. If not for me, how could you possibly be standing here right now?"

He gasped for breath, as though those words had been repressed for a long time and finally found an outlet.

"I offended that man, and my family was wiped out, all because I was helping you. I trusted you so much. I thought you would help me get revenge. I procured two Level 10 Monster King Essence Souls for you from the merchant guild, killed that great demon in the Cold Ruins for you, and later risked my life to help you kill a monster king in Southern Frost. I threw my entire life into this.

"But what did you do? When I was severely injured, you kicked me when I was down! You are a treacherous, shameless bastard! How could I have ever trusted the words of a petty coward like you?!"

Fang Buxin finally shifted his gaze from the jade box to look at him. The smile on his face faded a fraction. It was as if he had heard him out, but didn't feel the words were worth answering.

"You want to walk the path of the Blood Soul Sect. I won't stop you. But why did you have to do this? I did so much for you, yet you struck me down without hesitation... Don't you feel even a shred of guilt...?" Dong Yanwei's voice lowered, as if he had exhausted the last of his strength.

Fang Buxin looked at that face, smeared with blood and tear stains, and said nothing. His silence was colder than any answer.

After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice neither high nor low, sounding as if he were confirming a matter he had already verified. "Are you done?"

Dong Yanwei opened his mouth as if to say something more, but no sound came out. A Small Skull Sword floated up beside Fang Buxin. The blade glowed with a heavy, bloody light before vanishing in a flash.

The bloody light slashed past, and Dong Yanwei's voice and silhouette were abruptly cut off in the blizzard.

Only the whimpering howl of the wind pouring in remained in the cave. It felt as if something had just been closed shut, or perhaps, as if it had never even begun.

Fang Buxin bent down and picked up another jade box that had fallen to the ground. He stowed it away alongside the one in his hand, extracted the other man's Nascent Soul, and turned to walk out of the cave.

He did not look back.

The blizzard closed in behind him, burying the stench of blood within the cave along with that conversation beneath the ice.

In the distance, the mountain ridge flickered in and out of view amidst the thin clouds. The sky was dark and dreary, making it impossible to tell the time of day. As he walked across the snowy ground, his footprints were quickly smoothed over by the falling snow.