As the night descended, the sky turned abruptly as dark as ink without a trace of leftover sunlight.
A wild gust of wind heralded a fierce rainstorm.
The raindrops cascaded fiercely, gradually slowing down, while muddy water began to overflow in the mountains.
For Bian Weikang, kneeling before the mountain gate, this was a test beyond endurance.
It seemed that not only the sect but even the heavens were frowning upon him.
A piece of sandalwood gold lay on the steps in front of him, with purple flame qi casting light even amidst the rain.
He was drenched like a drowned rat, his face wet from the steady stream of water, his entire body chilled to the bone.
Yet colder still was his heart, for he had been kneeling for so long, yet his parents refused to see him even once.
But what else could he do? In hopes of earning his parents’ forgiveness and to spare the woman he cherished from further suffering, he could only continue to kneel until they were willing to meet him.
Wukang Mountain bore no vegetation and couldn’t retain water, so rainwater from the mountain quickly converged into streams large and small.
The sound of water beside the mountain gate steps roared like a torrential beast.
The three large characters for "Wukang Mountain" on the archway were bold and powerful, remaining clear under the flickering lantern light.
Under the arch stood two disciples wearing hats and rain capes.
They had no choice but to watch Bian Weikang kneeling and stay silent.
The sect leader had personally declared this man expelled and forbidden from taking another step into Wukang Mountain or interacting with anyone, under penalty of severe punishment.
The disciples did not expect their sect leader to be so resolute with his own son, highlighting the strictness of their sect's rules.
Bian Weikang, enduring his ordeal, occasionally looked toward the brightly lit mountain top and then turned to the myriad lights of Skyward Gaze City with anxiety in his heart.
Surely, Lan'er would be worried about him by now.
But he could not abandon his efforts halfway; he could only endure the wind and rain.
On the mountain, bursts of lightning illuminated glazed rooftops.
In the depths of the Jade Stairs Hall, amidst spirals of sandalwood incense, the lights flickered uncertainly in elegant quarters.
When normal lighting was possible, no one used the purple-tinged light of sandalwood gold, as it distorted colors unpleasantly.
Before a round window, a graceful woman in a dark long dress, with a face reminiscent of a blossoming peach, stood watching the storm outside and the faint light at the mountain gate.
She knew her son was kneeling there, for she was Yin Huixin, Bian Weikang's mother.
Occasional gusts of wind and rain fluttered inside, dotting her dress and disturbing the fragrant smoke.
No matter the array of bizarre flowers and plants amidst the potted greenery—all their hues were false, for the mountain harbored a strange trait where plants would decay within three days.
Her cool eyes would occasionally leave the view outside to gaze at the silhouette moving within the opposite hall.
She knew her husband was meeting with the sect’s senior officials, discussing none other than her son’s matter.
Though she, too, was a senior member of the sect, she chose not to attend, distancing herself from the controversy.
A suggestion had been made to her husband to discipline their son by petitioning before the previous leader's closed chambers, and since the elder was nearing the end of his days, his focus on a critical breakthrough could not be disturbed by this issue.
Knowing the inevitable outcome, Yin Huixin patiently awaited it.
Eventually, the hall quieted and people dispersed.
Before long, a sturdy man appeared at her doorway, not particularly tall but robust, his whiskered face carrying an imposing air as he donned the sect's uniform robe.
In this late hour, the only senior member who could enter the sect leader's wife’s quarters was her husband, Bian Jixiong.
Looking toward the mountain gate, where rainwater shimmeringly clung to his beard, he spoke with calm authority, "Even if I refuse, they would go and plead before Father’s door. Father’s time is running out, and his breakthrough is essential. I had no choice but to agree."
Knowing the results didn't surprise Yin Huixin, her tone as frosty as her unwavering gaze, "If that makes you happy, why bother coming here to show off?"
Bian Jixiong replied, "Are you still mad at me? I’ve said it before; it’s Father’s decision. Just like carving jade, adversity refines one's character. If our son cannot truly awaken on his own, how can he bear the weight of the whole sect? Do you think outsiders have no interest in the sect leader’s position?"
"The men of the Bian family make their decisions and don’t need to explain to a woman. Whatever I say doesn’t matter," Yin Huixin retorted, turning away, indifferent to the formally expected reverence for her husband as the sect leader.
THUNDER! Lightning flashed outside, casting light within that revealed Bian Jixiong's face shining with rain.
He watched his wife leave, loudly declaring, “Let him kneel another night; we’ll deal with the rest tomorrow!”
His voice sought to overwhelm the thunder but felt hollow because Yin Huixin neither turned nor responded, her figure disappearing with lightning illuminating her hair in blue-and-pastas.
The outside was a storm, while peace ensued within, where Bian Jixiong stood at the window, unmoving...
Skyward Gaze City gleamed amidst the storm, lanterns swaying under eaves, channels rushing yet never overflowing, revealing its efficiency through long-weathered challenges.
Outside the Peaceful Joy Pavilion, Shi Chun and Wu Jinliang pulled over a bench to sit by the tavern entrance under the roof, enjoying the view.
They indulged in this unusual scene, not having seen the city in the rain before.
Initially intending to explore the city's nightlife, the rain forced them into this alternative, a spectacle unseen before, adding to their experiences, shoes off and pants rolled; they embraced the water flowing from the eaves, a luxury unattainable in the Exile Lands.
Wu Jinliang often touched his cheek; later, he couldn’t resist touching Shi Chun's face.
Shi Chun immediately glared at him, "What are you doing?"
Wu Jinliang chuckled, "Honestly, our rough faces seem a tad smoother."
Is that so? Shi Chun touched his face, then Wu Jinliang's, finding it smooth indeed.
A man astride a massive boar passed on the stone road before them.
The rider, eyes wide under his umbrella, stared at the two men who patted each other's faces.
Despite continuing down the path, he kept glancing back, visibly entertained by the atypical sight.
Soon, a giant black serpent, thick as a barrel, slithered by, its scales glistening and green eyes flickering.
Its raised head surpassed the height of the eaves, and its tongue darted out intermittently.
Each novel scene witnessed calmed Shi Chun’s heart significantly, his burden somewhat lifted.
Confessing his identity as a Demonic Path practitioner to Wu Jinliang was a risk he chose to take; he knew there was no longer any need to hide this, especially when his identity stood a chance of being exposed.
Wu Jinliang was indeed startled, asking a flurry of questions, yet in the end had little to say.
He saw no need to separate, even comforting Shi Chun with pragmatism fitting for the Exile Lands—whether righteous or demonic, whichever path suits.
Thus relieved, Shi Chun realized he had overthought it.
Back in the tavern, Xiang Lan'er donned her cloak to leave.
Madame Fengchi caught her arm, advising, "Is there a need to suffer along with him, kneeling all night?"
Xiang Lan'er replied, “I like him; naturally, I have to see where he is. If he's not back, I must go to him, and of course, kneel beside him. Otherwise, wouldn’t that feel inappropriate? More importantly, the scruffy old man might be after you. Be careful.”
Madame Fengchi wasn't too worried, "Messages have already been sent. Most likely, those sent to deal with the old man should arrive soon. They're swift."
Xiang Lan'er nodded slightly and left, while Madame Fengchi saw no reason to send her off.
At the tavern's front desk, Xiang Lan'er borrowed an umbrella and, upon stepping outside, locked eyes with the two men at the door.
She gave a subtle shake of her head before opening her umbrella and venturing into the rain.
Exchanging glances, Wu Jinliang asked puzzled, "Where's she going?"
Shi Chun squinted ever so slightly, "To find Bian Weikang, likely to accompany him in kneeling."
Wu Jinliang instantly understood, making a few click sounds of disapproval, "Gone to accompany your rival; why not chase after her?"
Having already shared his plan, Shi Chun had no need to respond further.
At the city gate, a thin man in a long-length blue robe with deep eyes and withered hands like chicken claws emerged from the darkness, walking unhurriedly into the city.
Rain splashed as it hit his shoulders, forming mist.
Under street lights, a halo seemed to encircle him, yet neither his clothes nor his hair showed signs of dampness.
Reaching the crossroads inside the gate, the man stopped abruptly, staring coldly at a beggar lounging under the eaves.
The beggar was the scruffy old man with the bulbous nose, resting one-armed atop a pile of dry grass, a wine gourd beneath his arm, faking sleep.
His fingers tapped lightly on his thigh, indifferent to the storm, quite at ease.
Suddenly, his tapping hand paused, brow furrowing as eyes snapped open.
A ox cart, rumbling in the rain, passed through the crossroads, no other soul in sight, his eyes slowly closing again to feign sleep...
Atop the city wall, a tower corner glowed brightly, with wine and food alongside a solitary beauty.
Bian Weiying, the city lord, sipped delicately, gazing at the storm.
Beneath the thunder, Wukang Mountain occasionally appeared like a fanged beast.
Bian Weiying, as if confronting this monstrous existence, displayed no fear.
A black-robed, masked figure flew from the city’s edge to her side, presenting a wax-sealed message.
Biting open the seal and unfolding the letter, Bian Weiying read, an alluring smile forming as she murmured, “After all this way, it’s still about paving the way for him. Weren’t they unforgiving? Wasn’t everything supposedly pinned on having me, their daughter, striving against all odds? Yet, they’d rather help those vying for their son. This plot, it's laughable...”
Her laughter grew more pronounced, eventually shaking with mirth till tears fell.
Taking hold of her cup, she downed its bitter contents and slammed the cup to dust with a dismissive swing, resolutely commanding, “Spare our sect some hassle, deal with those from the Peaceful Joy Pavilion!”
(End of Chapter)