Chương 68: Jun

We forgot. Over all these millennia, we forgot what his true obsession had always been. Ruling the Heavens. Wuxing remained his tool. — He who calls himself Chi You, The Completed Works by He Shulin, foremost scholar of the Outer Realms Jianyi looked towards the clearing where everything had started. Jun was struggling against four attackers. Curiously, they didn't go after him with the weapons but tried to subdue him. Jianyi sprinted forward.

He felt blood starting to seep from the wound in his side again, and every step was a sharp jolt of pain. One of the attackers saw him coming and stepped toward him, spear brandished. Jianyi was fifty paces away. The remaining three attackers had finally knocked Jun out. His opponent drew two cards. There was nothing he could do to stop it but increase the speed with which he raced forward.

The technique rushed towards him, and he tried to dodge, but the green burst of qi did not seek him out directly, but the ground in front of him instead. Jianyi tried to push harder, but it was to no avail. Thorny vines burst out of the ground, grabbing his legs and making him stumble to the ground. More and more vines grabbed him, and every attempt to free himself led to more blood pouring from his arms and legs.

The cultivator behind the vines moved toward him, but when he looked up, he hesitated and turned around, racing towards his fellow attackers, shouting at them to run. One of them had shouldered Jun; he turned, his eyes widened as well. He took a step forward but struggled. Jianyi ripped through the vines, his robes torn to shreds, ignoring the bloody scratches, and started to run towards Jun. Yan Ping overtook him and raced towards the last four of the group that had attacked the caravan.

The man who carried Jun dropped him. Jianyi's friend fell to the ground, still unconscious. The three men and one woman, whom Jun had called Nie Lihua, abandoned their flight attempt and formed up to defend against Ping. Before stepping in line with the three others, without even looking down, Nie Lihua stabbed Jun, the boy who laughed more than anyone that Jianyi had ever met, in the throat. Jianyi's mind threatened to give out at the casual display of depravity. His body did not.

He ignored the pain, the exhaustion. He accelerated. Verdant Mending was his only hope. Yan Ping crashed into the group like a lightning bolt, Flowing Current killing one, a technique killing another. He took a wound, ignored it, Blazing Arc killed a third. Jianyi arrived and lunged forward, impaling the woman who had so heartlessly attacked Jun. He twisted his spear, making sure the wound was lethal, and moved on towards Jun, while calling up his deck. Verdant Mending came up.

He sank to his knees beside his friend. It looked horrible. Instead of the smile that he had come to know so well over the last four months, Jun's face was a grimace in pain, his throat an open bloody wound. He activated the technique. Or tried to. Yan Ping appeared on the other side of Jun, pulling a potion out of his storage ring. Verdant Mending did not take hold. His intent to heal and reality clashed. How was that possible? It should not be possible. It could not be possible!

Jianyi smashed his fist on the ground. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Yan Ping poured the potion into Jun's mouth. It just pooled there. It didn't take effect. Jianyi smashed the ground again. And again. He felt rage. Rage so hot it threatened to burn his sanity. Thoughts of discipline and dignity flared up but were consumed by his rage. Hate for whoever was behind this tried to consume him. His fist hurt because he had not stopped smashing the ground.

Revenge. He wanted revenge. He would get his revenge. For his father. For Jun. For all those who had to die. For all those who had to grow up without their family. He felt a hand on his shoulder and was close to punching whoever stood behind him. No. He felt the calming cold of the will beyond his spirit lake assert itself. Discipline and dignity. At all times. The snarl on his face turned into a calm mask. He turned and saw Yan Ping with a pained expression.

Shuhua and Miyao helped Hong with his leg wound come over. Dignity, helping his friends come to terms with what had just happened. Then, revenge.

The others huddled around the campfire. Jianyi stood with his back to them, on the lookout for any danger approaching them through the dark. His wounds were still painful, but he had used his technique on himself and, after some cultivation, on Hong as well, so things were on the mend—his body at least. He heard the girls trying to console Hong, who was still in a state of shock.

"My uncle… I will have to go to the city to tell them what happened…" Hong was more mumbling to himself than reacting to what Shuhua was saying. It had taken quite a while to get going after the attack. They had taken so long that it was impossible to extract any cards from the three cultivators who had been part of the attacking group. Nobody was worried about it. They had carefully wrapped Jun's body in cloth and brought him with them on one of the wagons.

After a careful search by Yan Ping, which had yielded little, the bodies of the attackers had been left on the wayside. They did not deserve a burial. Jianyi had struggled all day to maintain his outward calm. Why anybody would want to hurt Jun was a mystery to him, one that made him furious. But it also reminded him that there were downsides to engaging with others. Friends.

He hadn't had any prior to joining the sect, and part of it was that he was too busy, but getting close to people also meant that you would be hurt if you lost them. He would need some time to assess whether the trade-off was worth it. The sky was overcast, and the night was freezing, but right now he preferred being alone and cold to sitting by that campfire.

"I warned him about Nie Lihua… Not that I suspected anything like this…" Jianyi could hear Hong still talking to the girls.

"But he couldn't help himself. He even made up all these stories about how great he was to impress her," his voice was a mixture of chuckle and sob.

"The other day he even told her that he was a dual affinity cultivator…" Jianyi's head whipped around. Dual affinity cultivator. In all the anger, sadness, and duty to keep the caravan protected, Jianyi had not spent a lot of time thinking about by whom or why they had been attacked… This was it. Elder Sun had warned him—demons and their human helpers were searching for dual affinity cultivators for whatever purpose.

The girl must have been on the lookout for that talent amongst the newest disciples—and when Jun had boasted and told her about the latest merit mission, she must have informed her fellow cultists. He stopped himself from stepping into the conversation; instead, he turned back around, readjusting his eyes to the darkness. Then, it caught up with him… If he had told them about what he had learned from Elder Sun, Jun would have never used it to impress the girl. He would still be alive…

He felt his heart beat harder and harder. It was his fault. His breath quickened. Jun… No! His will established itself with full force. It was the demons' fault. They and their minions had killed Jun. Should he have told his friends? Maybe. But he hadn't done so for a reason. Elder Sun's investigations were not for public discussion. His attempt to retain a low profile had good reasons.

He would reflect on his actions and consider whether he should have acted differently, but there was no reason to lose his head over unfounded self-incriminations. He took a deep breath and started to circle the camp. Vigilance was more important than ever.

Shuhua caught up with him as they traveled down the road back to the sect. Morale in the whole caravan was affected by the events of the previous day. Apparently, none of the wagon drivers had ever experienced the death of a sect disciple, and it had shaken their belief in the safety of the route they had been travelling for decades. His fellow disciple had dark circles under her eyes—she likely hadn't slept much last night, still she looked at him with a faint smile.

"How are you, Jianyi?" He shrugged. He was burning to take revenge on those whom he hated. But even he was sure that that was not the answer Shuhua was looking for.

"I am fine." He was aware that he should ask her in turn how she felt, but he was still considering whether he should distance himself from his companions and struggled to find it in him to conform to social expectations.

"That is good. I think Yan Ping is struggling." Jianyi looked up to the inner disciple who walked at the head of the caravan. His steps were steady, his back straight.

"How so?"

"He considers it his fault that one of us, one of his charges, … died."

"He said so?"

"Not so much in words, but it is pretty obvious when you talk with him." Yan Ping had fought well. Jianyi did not know which cultivation realm the disciple had reached, but he had single-handedly killed the vast majority of the attackers. It was not clear to him how much more Ping could have done. But he guessed, thinking about his own mental state from the previous night, that those feelings were not always grounded in facts. He nodded slightly.

"How is Hong?" It was Shuhua's turn to look up towards the wagon where the young man was sitting, his leg not fully recovered, yet.

"Better than yesterday, but still miserable. He dreads telling his family."

"Understandable." They walked in silence for a while.

"Jianyi, maybe we should increase the frequency of our training sessions as a group. Now… It would be… I think it is important that we stick together. Don't you agree?" He looked at Shuhua, her eyes wide and watery. She had told him not so long ago that building a circle of friends was what drove her; it wasn't difficult to imagine what went through her head right now. Was that a reason for him to commit to something he wasn't sure was what he wanted?

He remembered how he had felt over the last few months with friends. But the pain currently confined inside, waiting to pounce and destroy his dignity… Was it worth it? He really didn't know, but despite his youth, he knew that closing that door right now was not wise, either.

"It could be a good idea, but let's talk about it when we are back in the sect, Shuhua. Agreed?" She nodded but wiped away a tear as well. He didn't know what to do or say.