The sound of the metal gate tumbling off the side of the mountain could be heard for miles. The cultivators raised their swords and watched in horror as two men stepped out from the darkness of the mountain prison.
In the arms of the man in black was a tender looking youth, clothed in bright red. The robes had long become dirtied and tattered. The youth’s wavy hair was unbound and strewn across his visage, just barely covering up the horrendous bruises around his neck and scattered across his face. The dried blood, matched with his crimson robes, brought out a nether worldly glow to his pale skin. His entire person looked as if he already had one foot through the gates of the Underworld yet, despite this, the eyes used to look upon the pitiful youth was nothing by hatred, mingling with terror and disgust.
“Sect Leader Fan,” a man stood at the front, his hand tightly gripping his sword until his knuckles turned white. His eyes burned with annoyance as his eyes flickered down to the limp body in the other’s arms. “It is always a pleasure to see you, however I do not remember inviting you to witness our sect’s embarrassment.”
The man being addressed showed an amicable smile. A sense of calmness enshrouded him despite the weapons pointed his way. This calmness caused the cultivators to fidget. The palms of their hands began to become sticky with sweat. It was difficult to forget what type of person he was just a few hundred years ago after all.
Fán Yì(凡意) let out a soft sigh and put on a lost expression. “Pardon my intrusion, Young Master Li. I heard a rumor about what was happening in your sect and, well, I have never been one to sit still when there is injustice afoot. You are still young, but you have also heard about what happened to those who wronged me in the past, have you not?”
The cultivators behind the man surnamed Li glanced at each other. Some shifted back while others gripped their swords tighter. The air seemed to tighten around their throats, making it hard to breathe and making it even more difficult to swallow. No one dared make any sudden movements.
“Forgive my rudeness, Sect Leader Fan,” the man surnamed Li bit out the title. “But this is a sect matter. Outsiders should mind their own business.”
“How could I be an outsider?” Fan Yi quirked an eyebrow, looking completely scandalized.
“If you aren’t an outsider than what are you?” a cultivator from somewhere in the crowd asked. “This is obviously a matter of our Drifting Clouds Mountain Sect! You didn’t only break through our array, but also want to steal our person?”
A scoff sounded from behind Fan Yi. “Is it our fault we broke through your array? You should ask yourselves why it was so easily crushed.”
The speaker scanned the crowd lazily and clicked his tongue. “And here I thought the righteous sects were all about propriety, rules, and manners. I didn’t realize that when the seniors were talking, a lowly junior disciple of the sect could butt in and talk. In such a rude manner, at that.”
“Who spoke just now?” the man surnamed Li turned his head and glanced into the crowd. Not a single person dared to look him in the eyes.
“Rude and cowardly,” the man provoked once more. “How unseemly.”
The man surnamed Li glared at the man behind Fan Yi. Instead of shrinking back, the man lifted his chin arrogantly and met Sect Leader Li’s gaze with a cock of his eyebrow.
The man could be described as a poisonous tyrant. His looks were horrifyingly handsome and his entire being carried an air of suppression. The man wore a stylized pauldron on one shoulder with a brown cape cascading down his back. His black hair was pulled back into a surprisingly neat topknot. His saber hung lazily from his belt, yet it still emitted a quiet hum, as if warning the surrounding cultivators that it was always ready at any moment’s notice.
“Xiewen,” after a long moment of tense silence, Fan Yi’s voice finally interjected. However, the tone he used was similar to a doting older brother scolding his younger brother with no real consequences. There was even a hint of pride.
“Oh,” Tiān Xièwén (天谢文 ) indolently lifted his gaze back towards the man surnamed Li. A suppressed smirk played at his lips as he spoke: “Sorry.”
Fan Yi cleared his throat. His grip on the limp body had not changed in the past few minutes. He still stood straight and tall; his gaze unchanging even despite the interruptions.
“Even if I am an outsider,” Fan Yi said, “How could you justify doing this to someone of your own sect? I hear there was no fair trial? Did you ever give him a chance to defend himself?”
“We saw it with our own eyes what he did,” the man surnamed Li spoke through clenched teeth. “With his Yu Lan Sword, he drove it through Sect Leader Rong’s throat and thoroughly severed her head. Afterwards, not only did he not utter a word of explanation, he even directed his sword at us. His entire person obviously ready to flee—what else is there to question, Sect Leader Fan?”
“Is that so?” Fan Yi seemed unshaken. “Then, if you do not want him so much, I will take him.”
“On what grounds? He is a criminal and a traitor of our sect. We have the right to punish him. Any outsider the interferes shall be killed on the spot.”
At the words of the man surnamed Li, the sounds of swords being unsheathed sounded through the night sky. The flames danced against the blade, reflecting the hateful eyes and the deadly gleam of the swords.
“How could I be an outsider?” Fan Yi repeated his previous question.
“Then state your relations to him,” the man surnamed Li dared.
“Romantic,” Fan Yi said without a hint of hesitation.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Preposterous! How could my shidi ever be involved with you!?”
“Lì rán(利燃), he is no longer your shidi,” Fan Yi said. “Why can he not be with me?”
“You—”
Before Li Ran could begin his sentence, the sound of pained screams echoed through the mountain range. Li Ran turned around in alarm, only to find half of the cultivators had been cut down. A barely visible thin red string was wound tightly around their throats. A steady stream of blood began to form on the dirt ground.
Fan Yi let out a mischievous laugh. He took a step back, allowing Tian Xiewen to block an oncoming blow with the flat of his saber. His steps were light as he danced through the carnage, meeting with a smaller figure on the other side of the battle.
The handsome young man pulled his sword from the body of a righteous cultivator and rushed towards Fan Yi. “Shizun, are you okay?”
“Naturally,” Fan Yi nodded. He looked back at the ongoing battle and turned to the young man. “We will be leaving first then. Make sure to leave right after.”
“Yes, Shizun.”
“And, Sū Hán(苏寒)?”
“Yes, Shizun?” the young man turned back to Fan Yi.
“Remember, self-preservation is the most important,” Fan Yi said.
Su Han nodded. He turned and ran back into the battle as Fan Yi took to the skies on his long sword.
While in the air, Fan Yi glanced down at the man in his arms. The carefree look from earlier finally melted from his face. His brows furrowed with concern as he reached up and carefully placed the back of his hand against the man’s forehead. He was still burning with a fever despite the pill Fan Yi had given him earlier. Even with internal injuries, the pill could heal a man in only a few short minutes. And if a man was his last breath, the pill would be able to preserve his life for a long time. Seeing the state Wu Lingtian was still in, it seems the many nights of torture had even done a powerful cultivator like Wu Lingtian in.
“It’s okay,” Fan Yi held Wu Lingtian closer to himself in an attempt to transfer over a hint of warmth. “You’ll be fine soon.”
But the man who had long fainted from blood loss did not even shift in response.
“Just hang on for a bit longer,” Fan Yi whispered as he urged his sword to go faster. “After you wake up, I’ll give you all the candy you want.”
Fan Yi chuckled a little at his own sentence, but the mirth he managed to find in the situation didn’t last long. He felt his heart hammering against his own chest as anxiety started to fill his entire person. He guided his sword higher up, pushing it to go faster and faster. Every few minutes, he would glance down at the man in his arms, worrying that the light heaving of his chest would suddenly stop. Luckily, even as the hours passed by, the man continued to breathe, though Fan Yi could feel it grow fainter and fainter.
As night slowly faded to day, Fan Yi finally caught a glimpse of a building he had been longing to see amidst the foggy sunrise. Very soon, the clouds parted ways to reveal an immortal-like sect, sitting atop a mountain range spilling with spiritual energy. The main hall sat against the side of a cliff and, winding down, various other buildings could be spotted. There was a battle range closer towards the bottom while, near the back of the mountain was an archive that housed the history about the sect since its establishment, along with any secret techniques and recipes that they may have made or discovered. Towards the entrance of the sect was a tower that reached high into the sky where the disciples would normally be on watch for any intruders.
Today, the disciples on guard recognized their sect leader immediately. They bowed their heads and clasped their hands into a salute as Fan Yi flew in through the array without giving them a second glance.
The sword smoothly landed on the ground of the empty sect. With a slight flick of the wrist, Fan Yi’s sword disappeared from thin air in a light shimmer of blue light. Fan Yi’s feet continued onwards, carrying him towards a zigzagging bridge that sat above a small koi pond, leading into a humble estate. He walked steadily, but quickly, until he made it into the guest bedroom in the courtyard opposite of his. He kicked the door open and rushed inside. The moment he made it in, he carefully set Wu Lingtian down and rushed back out the door. He began to call for Zhū Hé (朱和) and Zhū Xuě (朱雪) as he did so.
The two servants appeared in front of Fan Yi almost immediately with their heads bowed.
“Get me two basins with water and some cloth and gauze,” Fan Yi spoke as he began to roll up his sleeves and walked into his room to grab his medicine box. “Also bring me a set of spare clothes once you are done.”
“Yes, Sect Leader,” the two siblings echoed each other before disappearing again without a trace.
Fan Yi hurriedly rushed back into the guest room and began to carefully examine Wu Lingtian’s injuries. His brows furrowed at the sight of the clasps that were gruesomely wedged into his scapula bone. Fan Yi thought about it for a moment before reaching into his medicine box and producing a jade bottle. He unplugged it and shook out a few pills. He squeezed Wu Lingtian’s jaw and slipped the pills in.
Once the basins of water and the cloth arrived, Fan Yi began to carefully cut Wu Lingtian’s robes.
The procedure was slow and lasted until the sun was halfway across the sky.
Fan Yi sat down and looked at Wu Lingtian, lying on the bed bandaged from his neck down to nearly his toes. The red robes were in tatters and had already been discarded to the side. The two clasps that had been wedged into Wu Lingtian’s shoulders laid in a basin of bloodied water alongside various cloths that had previously been white. Fan Yi glanced down at his bloodied hands and stood up as the two servants each took a bowl and followed after Fan Yi.
The moment Fan Yi opened the door, he was greeted by two familiar faces.
“How is he?”
Fan Yi glanced at Rèn Yīzhōu (任一周 ) and sighed as he walked. “He’ll survive.”
“Righteous cultivators…they may as well be demonic cultivators,” Tian Xiewen grumbled as he followed Fan Yi down the steps into the courtyard. He turned to speak to Ren Yizhou. “You sure took your sweet time setting up your red strings though. If you had been there—well, I guess you wouldn’t have seen—but if you could see, I bet you would have jumped out of your skin. Not only were his hands and his feet chained, he was also locked into the wall by his shoulders. Everything worked to restrict his spiritual energy. Even the cell was made out of Stygian Iron. I felt so suffocated and I was only in there for a few minutes.”
Ren Yizhou walked with their head straight ahead, ignoring the small remark about their eyesight. “Even if I can’t see, I could still smell. The amount of blood that came from the little lord’s body is not something to be trifled with.”
Fan Yi let out a sigh as he made his way to the well. Tian Xiewen stepped forward and threw the bucket in, drawing water out for Fan Yi as Ren Yizhou asked another question.
“What are you going to do now?”
“What do you mean?” Fan Yi’s hands were held out as he waited for the water.
“Well, you’ve practically just declared war on Drifting Clouds Mountain Sect. What do you plan to do?”
Fan Yi stared at the clouds above. They drifted by, forming odd shapes as they moved along with the wind. Fan Yi felt a sense of relief but also a sense of loss—something he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. He hummed as Tian Xiewen placed the bucket of water down in front of Fan Yi. Fan Yi knelt down and stuck his hands into the water that had been warmed by the summer heat.
“Wait till Yu Lan Sword Immortal (玉兰剑仙尊) wakes up,” Fan Yi said. “If he wants to stay, we’ll induct him in. If he wants to leave…”
Tian Xiewen stuck his tongue in his cheek and watched the sect leader. “…If he wants to leave?”
“…Trap him,” Fan Yi stood. He picked up the bucket and threw the dirty water into the grass nearby. Tied the bucket back up to the string. He turned to the other two. “He is not fit to leave yet anyway.”
“Trap him,” Tian Xiewen whispered to himself as he watched Fan Yi walk off. He leaned down slightly and whispered to Ren Yizhou. “Fan-ge is sure domineering, isn’t he?”
Ren Yizhou placed their hand on Tian Xiewen’s face and pushed him away. “That is just how your Fan-ge is, little wolf.”
Tian Xiewen wrinkled his nose as his body bounced back to its previous position. Ren Yizhou had already walked further away, turning the corner and walking the opposite direction of Fan Yi. Tian Xiewen stood in the courtyard and slowly straightened as if nothing happened. He rubbed at his nose and let out a soft sigh as he turned and left the courtyard himself.
Everyone is more easily irritable during the summer days.
As everyone returned back to their daily routine, the scorching summer sun seemed to be beating down more relentlessly than usual today. The disciples that had yet to cultivate far enough begged to roll their sleeves up. A few others even went as far to take off the top layer of their robes on top of rolling up their sleeves. Boys and girls who usually had their hair in ponytails or rubbing against their neck opted for a topknot to keep the hair from their shoulders and their necks.
Any training that the disciples normally did with great vigor was pushed aside or slowed down. If one were to walk through Screeching Sparrow Sect today, they would see disciples strewn across the grassy field, laying under the shade of trees or near the banks of lakes and rivers. Each and every one of them looked like a salted fish.
Fan Yi, who came out from a lengthy bath, was greeted with such a scene. If any righteous sect leader saw this, they would blow up at the sight. However, Fan Yi simply walked past the groups of limp bodies and slowly made his way to the messenger hall.
He walked towards the neat building and lightly knocked on the door. Fan Yi stood in silence as he listened to the hurried footsteps. The door was soon opened. A childish face greeted him, beaming largely up at him as she stepped back to let him in.
“Shizun! What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you,” Fan Yi quirked an eyebrow, though he still placed his hand warmly on the top of her head. “What are you doing here, A-Qing?”
Lǐ Qīng (李清 ) giggled as she followed Fan Yi down the room, but she pressed her lips together and didn’t respond. She simply hopped behind the desk and placed her hands onto the tabletop. “Shizun, do you have something to send out?”
Fan Yi looked at his little disciple without a smile on his face, but soon sighed and simply fished a letter out from his lapel. He placed it down on the table. “Send it to the Hall of Impartiality for me.”
“Yes, Shizun!” Li Qing happily took the letter towards the back room. A moment later, she returned with a sparrow that seemed multicolored under a certain type of lighting. She carefully wrote a protection ward on the back of the letter and slipped it into a tube before tying it to the bird’s leg. The tube seemed to be the size of the sparrow, yet when Li Qing opened the window and let it fly out, it flew as if there wasn’t even an extra weight on it.
Fan Yi watched the bird fly off safely before turning to his youngest disciple. “Where did Huá Ān’tíng (华安婷 ) go?”
“Hua-shijie said she had a meeting with the boy from the…” Li Qing’s voice trailed off. She glanced back at her shizun and closed the window. “Shizun, I heard from da-shixiong that you saved someone last night? How are they?”
Fan Yi held his eye contact with Li Qing for several seconds before finally looking away. “When she comes back, tell her to do handstands for an hour.”
“Yes, Shizun,” Li Qing chirped behind Fan Yi as he made his exit. Li Qing let out a sigh of relief and slumped down onto the table. At least the one that discovered it wasn’t Tian Xiewen. If he had learned that his own disciple snuck off to rendezvous with some unknown boy, who knows what his reaction would be.
On his way out, Fan Yi tossed back another: “You as well. You also have to be punished for helping your shijie lie.”
Li Qing’s expression puckered but she sighed. “This disciple understands.”
Fan Yi pushed open the doors left the hall. He made his way through the sect, turning a blind eye to the disciples lying on the ground. The summer heat seared through Fan Yi’s robes, though it didn’t seem to affect him in anyway. He tugged up the collar of his under robe and stepped onto the zig-zagging bridge until he reached his estate. He glanced towards the guest courtyard and wandered in. He hesitated at the front of the door for a moment before he knocked. When there wasn’t a response, he pulled the door opened and stepped in.
He walked towards Wu Lingtian and bent down. His hand rested against the back of Wu Lingtian’s head and the furrow between his brow deepened. He sat down beside the man’s bed and watched him in silence.
The Wu Lingtian Fan Yi was familiar with was a man of few, direct words. His expression was distant and his voice was like freshly falling snow—beautiful yet tinged with coldness. Many compared him to a magnolia that managed to grow on the icy mountain tops, untouchable but beautiful because of its resilience. His hair was a dark black, similar to his eyes, while his skin too was smooth and jade-like. This, combined with his usual blood red attire, brought out the paleness of his skin more. However, he had never quite appeared unhealthy, only as if he was a pampered young master who was able to eat well and stay inside.
Now, Wu Lingtian slept peacefully on the bed. The stiff distance on his face was gone. The rose to his cheeks was also faded. He wore white sleeping robes and even his wrists were covered with the bandages. While he looked much more innocent and approachable, he looked almost like a lifeless doll without a hint of movement in his limbs.
Fan Yi carefully reached to check Wu Lingtian’s pulse, just to make sure he was still alive. He withdrew his hand and watched Wu Lingtian in silence again.
It felt silly. Even when Fan Yi was a child, he had never dumbly waited for anything like this. Even when his parents went off on missions, Fan Yi had always minded his own business until they came back, whether or not there was promise of presents.
Fan Yi carefully brushed back Wu Lingtian’s hair and rested his cheek against the palm of his hand.
“Yu Lan, when are you going to wake?” Fan Yi murmured.
Wu Lingtian showed no response, leaving Fan Yi in a room filled with silence.
Fan Yi let out a sigh. “Take your time. It was my fault for not hearing about it until so late. You have already done well holding on for so long. Rest awhile longer if you want. It must have been so hard on you.”
Fan Yi stood, his eyes still trained on Wu Lingtian. “I will take care of everything else until you wake. Li Ran won’t be able to get to you.”
One man stood over the other for a moment longer before turning his back and leaving the guest room. The door closed with a soft thud. The man lying on the bed remained silent, his breathing continued on in a steady rhythm, though he showed no signs of waking up.
↳ Drifting Clouds Mountain Sect – 飘云山派 (piāo yún shān pài)
↳ Yu Lan Sword – 玉兰剑 (Yùlán Jiàn); Yu Lan means magnolia. A lot of things that are names will be kept in their pinyin form.
↳ Screeching Sparrow Sect – 啼雀派; Tí què pài
↳ 穿琵琶骨 (Chuān pípagǔ) – Piercing the scalpula bone. It’s a very gruesome technique that makes you motionless.
Oohhh interesting so far! Excited to read more 💕💕
thank yoouuu 💕💕💕
is ren yizhou non binary?(jus confirming, no offence)
also cute pfp authorr
yes they are! I think i have a note about it…a bit later? it explains a bit more about the pronoun usage for them in this story. also thank youu for the compliment about my pfp LOL
What a romantic and adventurous way to start a story. I love flying swords and defiant sect leaders!
Beautiful writing. Thank you so much for sharing.
thx for reading ;v;