Lu Zhixing said nothing, his gaze lingering on Xi Yu’s face.
His thoughts were now no different from Luo Cheng’an’s. As long as he could look at his Master, that was enough.
Before the Nine Stars aligned with the Moon, being able to see him a few more times was enough.
Xi Yu looked at the two of them. In the end, his gaze settled on Lu Zhixing.
Since leaving the secret chamber, this was the first time he had looked at Lu Zhixing properly. His gaze did not merely brush past him, nor was it distant and unfocused. Instead, it rested squarely on Lu Zhixing.
No, to be precise, it rested on Zhili’s face.
All three of them now wore their divine appearances, yet with the three of them standing together, everything had already become completely different from how it used to be.
Xi Yu wondered how things had come to this.
Lu Zhixing’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His heart felt as though Xi Yu were holding it in his hand, squeezing and kneading it over and over. In a small voice, he called, “Master…”
………………….
Lu Zhixing’s voice was very soft, trembling slightly. His long, narrow eyes were dark yet bright.
Xi Yu had once loved those eyes. They were cold and indifferent when looking at others, but whenever they turned toward him, they were always burning with warmth.
Now, however, Xi Yu thought that it would be better if those eyes were cold and indifferent toward him, too.
If that had been the case, perhaps things would never have come to this.
Lu Zhixing tilted his head up to look at Xi Yu. Xi Yu stood on the steps, tall and slender. There were only three steps beneath his feet, a distance Lu Zhixing could cross in a single stride.
Yet Lu Zhixing felt as though those three steps were an insurmountable abyss. Just looking at them was enough to make him afraid to approach. All he could do was call out miserably, “Master…”
He kept calling him Master, his voice aggrieved, helpless, and fragile.
As though doing so might make Xi Yu feel just a little more compassion for him.
But Xi Yu’s expression did not change in the slightest from beginning to end. There was only indifference and a deathly silence.
Looking at Lu Zhixing, Xi Yu said coolly, “I told you not to call me Master.”
With that, Xi Yu raised his hand toward Lu Zhixing’s chest, curling his fingers inward.
Xi Yu moved too quickly. Lu Zhixing had no time to react. He only felt an immense force pulling something out of his body.
By the time he realized what Xi Yu intended to take, it was already too late.
Lu Zhixing abruptly clutched his chest and cried out in a broken voice, “No… Master!!!”
He had no way of fighting Xi Yu. It was not that he was incapable of doing so, but that he did not dare. He did not dare reveal even a trace of his demonic aura in front of Xi Yu, as though concealing it might somehow hide the identity that disgusted his Master.
Unable to use his demonic power, Lu Zhixing could only fight Xi Yu with the spiritual energy remaining in his body. But he had already lost his divine bones. He was no match for Xi Yu.
All he could do was watch helplessly as a red lotus petal emerged from his chest and drifted lightly into Xi Yu’s hand.
Trembling with panic, Lu Zhixing crawled up the steps on his knees and knelt before Xi Yu. He seized the hem of Xi Yu’s robe, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Please, don’t take it away.”
Lu Zhixing pleaded desperately with Xi Yu. “Please don’t take it away, Master. Don’t be so cruel to me.”
“This is all I have left. This is all I have left!”
Lu Zhixing was in such agony that the corners of his eyes turned as red as the lotus in Xi Yu’s palm.
It was the gift he had received upon becoming Xi Yu’s disciple. It was the first thing his Master had ever given him.
It was a petal from the lotus from which Xi Yu had been born. It contained a great deal of spiritual energy, but Lu Zhixing did not want the spiritual energy. He wanted the gift itself. Ever since receiving it, he had treasured it, keeping it hidden close to his heart until it had long since become one with him.
He was already a Demon God. There would be no place for him beside his Master, and his shadow would never again appear in the Star-Gathering Hall.
He had lost everything. This lotus petal was all he had left.
And now Xi Yu had ruthlessly torn it away. To Lu Zhixing, this hurt even more than when Xi Yu had extracted his divine bones.
Lu Zhixing’s sobs were quiet and low, as though the pain were so great that he no longer had the strength to cry aloud.
His eyes were wet as he looked at Xi Yu, utterly humble and utterly broken. He made no attempt to conceal his suffering, laying it bare in the desperate hope that it might make Xi Yu waver, even for a moment.
But Xi Yu did not waver at all.
Looking down at Lu Zhixing’s helpless figure, he tightened his fingers and crushed the lotus petal right before his eyes.
“No!!!” Lu Zhixing screamed in horror.
His anguish reached its absolute limit. Even his heart began to contract violently, leaving him unable to breathe.
The red lotus petal disintegrated into countless specks of spiritual energy that drifted downward.
Lu Zhixing reached out to catch them, but the tiny fragments soon scattered and vanished in the wind.
No matter how desperately he tried to grasp them, he could not keep a single speck.
His hands scrabbled against the ground, but there was nothing left except dust.
Nothing remained. Nothing at all.
Only Lu Zhixing’s tears.
With a soft plip, one struck the ground, leaving a small, darkened mark.
Xi Yu’s gaze fell upon Lu Zhixing’s hunched back. His eyes were utterly indifferent.
“From this day forward, the bond between master and disciple is over, just like this lotus petal.”
After saying that, Xi Yu turned and went back into the room without the slightest hesitation or lingering glance.
Luo Cheng’an stared blankly at Lu Zhixing.
He thought he should be happy. Wasn’t this exactly what he had wanted?
Even though Zhili had not died, the outcome was still what he had hoped to see.
Lanxing had withdrawn every special privilege he had once bestowed upon Zhili. The way he looked at him had become cold and merciless.
But why couldn’t Luo Cheng’an feel happy?
Why did he feel only fear?
Lanxing did not want to kill Zhili. Luo Cheng’an could sense that.
Yet Lanxing could not forgive Zhili for becoming the Demon Venerable, either.
And Zhili had become what he was today because Luo Cheng’an had helped push him toward that fate.
If Lanxing could treat Zhili this way, then what about him…?
In an instant, Luo Cheng’an felt as though he had fallen into an icy abyss.
All he wanted now was to be able to see Lanxing. But if Lanxing’s gaze remained indifferent whenever it fell upon him, Luo Cheng’an could not bear to imagine how much that would hurt.
It was as though Zhili’s suffering had spread through the little courtyard and entered Luo Cheng’an’s own heart.
After a long while, Lu Zhixing staggered to his feet and looked at the tightly shut door. His eyes were bloodshot.
A sweet, metallic taste rose in his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it.
In the past, his injuries had been a weapon that made his Master worry about him. But that was no longer the case.
No matter what he did, as long as he remained the Demon Venerable, his Master would never feel sorry for him again.
Even if he knelt here for the rest of his life, he could not win back even the slightest trace of his Master’s compassion.
Lu Zhixing climbed the steps and returned to his room.
Luo Cheng’an was left alone, gazing up at the dark sky.
The sun had hidden away all day, and there had been no sunset. Yet a full moon hung high in the night sky, with one extraordinarily brilliant star suspended directly above it.
*
The instant Xi Yu closed the door, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed to the floor.
Sensing its master’s suffering, Zhuohua began to tremble, while Flowing Cloud let out a low, mournful hum.
Leaning against the door, Xi Yu steadied his breathing and gathered his focus before softly reassuring his two magical artifacts.
“I’m fine.”
Xi Yu had little strength left. He pressed the full weight of his body against the door, as though only its support could keep him from collapsing completely to the floor.
Blood stained his lips a vivid red. After a while, he slowly raised his hand and looked at his pale palm.
This was the hand that had just crushed a red lotus petal, yet not a single mark remained.
That lotus petal had once carried him into the mortal world. He had given it to Zhili as his disciple-acceptance gift because he wanted to tell him that, from then on, he would be the second master of the Star-Gathering Hall.
Xi Yu still remembered how happy Zhili had been when he first learned what the gift meant. He had kept it beside his pillow, looking at it every day before going to sleep.
Later, as Zhili’s cultivation advanced, he gained the ability to open his sea of consciousness at will. He then merged the lotus petal into his chest, keeping it close to his heart.
And now Xi Yu had personally extracted the gift Zhili had treasured so dearly and ground it to dust.
How could he not know how cruel he had been?
But he could not afford to soften his heart.
Zhili was hateful. Knowing full well that Xi Yu detested what he was doing and did not want it, he had stubbornly persisted until he had turned himself into what he was now.
If gentle persuasion could not teach Zhili to behave, then Xi Yu would try another way.
A different way—one that would make Zhili truly learn his lesson.
Xi Yu’s hand trembled uncontrollably before finally dropping limply to his side. His steps unsteady, he walked toward the bed, where he saw a red pear-blossom wreath.
Only then did he remember that Zhili had not taken the wreath with him.
Xi Yu sat on the edge of the bed and picked it up. He looked at it for a while, and his eyes grew faintly moist.
……………………….
Without Zhuohua’s spiritual power enveloping it, the temperature in Wutong Stronghold began to drop.
Xi Yu did not need to eat, nor did he feel like speaking to anyone. He simply stayed in his room.
Lu Zhixing and Luo Cheng’an had the good sense not to disturb him.
It was not until more than half a month later, when Xi Yu felt the divine power that had returned to him circulating freely through his body, that he finally opened the door.
He had placed the red pear-blossom wreath from beside his bed inside his spatial ring.
It was another beautiful day.
Lu Zhixing and Luo Cheng’an were waiting outside. The moment Xi Yu emerged, both of them turned to look at him.
“Lanxing, where are you going? Do you need me to accompany you?” Luo Cheng’an walked over to his side.
Lu Zhixing stood off to one side. His hair had grown a little longer, and he wore a white satin shirt. His eyes were lowered, and beneath the sunlight, his skin looked so pale that it was almost translucent.
Xi Yu walked past them and replied in an even voice, “Back to City A.”
Luo Cheng’an’s eyes lit up. He immediately followed behind Xi Yu.
Once they returned to City A, Luo Cheng’an thought, with his parents there, Xi Yu would not be able to treat him with quite so much indifference.
During this period, Xi Yu had been almost completely indifferent toward both him and Lu Zhixing.
He had truly had enough. He did not want to keep living like this.
Luo Cheng’an hurried after Xi Yu.
Halfway there, Xi Yu suddenly stopped. Luo Cheng’an, distracted, nearly walked straight into his back.
Confused, Luo Cheng’an looked at Xi Yu. But Xi Yu was not looking at him. Instead, he turned around and looked at Lu Zhixing, who had not moved an inch and had not even looked in their direction.
“Aren’t you coming?” Xi Yu asked.
Lu Zhixing stiffly turned his neck. He seemed unable to process whether Xi Yu was speaking to him. His long, narrow phoenix eyes were half lowered as he tilted his head to look at Xi Yu.
Lu Zhixing’s voice was hoarse.
“Are… you asking me?”