7 Choose One

Xie Qianjing remained motionless for a long time.

As Sheng Ningyu closed the door, a gust of wind stirred, causing the slightly ajar window to slam shut completely. The golden light flickered and finally extinguished, leaving the last shred of brightness to fade away.

The room grew so silent that only the swirling dust remained visible. Suppressed red mist, sensing an opportunity, surged forth in silent, stealthy waves. Xie Qianjing acted as if he did not see it, lowering his eyes to gaze at the tabletop.

The discarded bandages on the table were tangled in messy loops, circle upon circle, as if mocking his own wishful thinking. Xie Qianjing’s brow furrowed slightly.

It should not be like this.

He had wanted to test Sheng Ningyu with his own flesh and blood, but upon hearing her blunt refusal, his heart was filled not only with malice but also with something ineffable—a feeling that had long been absent.

If she would not consume his flesh and blood, then whose could she?

Chu Jiye? Rong Que? Li Qingfeng?

Or perhaps that annoying phoenix?

Xie Qianjing curled his lips at the vanity mirror positioned obliquely in front of him.

He was no longer the refined and gentle figure he had appeared to be moments ago. Dark demonic energy swirled around him, making him look like a vengeful ghost crawled out of purgatory, ready to devour flesh and blood. The inner demon that had been stirring restlessly earlier now emerged, beyond his control.

"I am no different from anyone else; I am just as thirsty for your flesh."

"Ha, you had better pray that I am merely posturing. If I truly do not want your flesh, it would mean I haven't changed—which should be a good thing, but you, you have changed."

"Xie Qianjing, you are no longer that upright Immortal Lord who had nothing that could not be spoken of..."

"No matter what, you must kill me, Xie Qianjing—you must kill me!"

The voice was soft, like a feather brushing over clear water, yet it easily stirred the most hidden desires within one's heart, spreading from a single thread to the very depths of one's soul.

This was Xie Qianjing’s inner demon.

Every demonic cultivator has an inner demon—a vexing puzzle that haunts them for a lifetime without answer, and one of the sources of their power. If they cannot suppress their inner demon, they will be possessed, reduced to a mindless, bloodthirsty living corpse.

For some, the inner demon is a phantom; for others, it is a deeply etched scene. But for Xie Qianjing, his inner demon was merely three words.

"Sheng Ningyu."

Unreconciled, yet unable to attain his desire.

The affection he once believed in had long since dissipated like smoke amidst the intent of his sword. To Xie Qianjing, the name "Sheng Ningyu" was less like a bright, clear moon and more like a straw in the water.

Visible, viewable, and imaginable.

Yet, when the longing reached its peak, a single touch was enough to shatter it into pieces.

The eternal winds and moonlight were nothing but a dream.

Xie Qianjing did not fall into the demonic path from the beginning.

When the Xie clan was destroyed, he did not fall.

When he was calculated and betrayed by those he had saved, he did not fall.

When the Chu family trapped him in the Mitian Formation, peeling away his spiritual bones to consume his flesh, he still did not fall.

Because Xie Qianjing thought, Sheng Ningyu was waiting for him.

Eleven Soul-Dissolving Nails were driven into his spine, piercing through blood and bone. The Spirit-Binding Whip lashed him again and again, forcibly extracting all his spiritual power.

"Worthy of being the pride of the Xie clan; truly a difficult bone to crack."

The Chu family member administering the torture looked at Xie Qianjing’s unyielding spine and grinned. "But in this Mitian Immortal Formation, the harder your bones, the more suffering you will endure."

"You have read all the classic texts of the immortals, have you not, Bodhi Lord?"

The Bodhi Lord of the Xie clan, once high above the clouds, was now reduced to lying in the dust and mud.

Surrounded by mockery and malicious laughter, Xie Qianjing thought of little else at the time. The situation here was incredibly complex; human hearts were treacherous, and the shifting winds were like a quagmire—anyone who stepped in would only sink deeper.

Therefore, Xie Qianjing did not want Sheng Ningyu to come looking for him.

He only thought of how they had promised to go to the mortal world for the Lantern Festival. If he weren't there, given her free-spirited and wandering nature, she would likely get lost or miss the timing.

And that Bodhi osmanthus cake with five times the sugar he had promised to bring her—he would likely not be able to bring it now.

The pond where the Bodhi lotuses floated was now soaked in the blood of the Xie clansmen.

...

The Bodhi lotuses withered; everything collapsed in a single day.

All the past events, chaotic and tangled, with blood and light intertwined, and a thousand sounds chanting in unison, finally condensed into only three words.

"Sheng Ningyu."

Xie Qianjing thought, he had to get out.

On the Sword Pavilion, someone was still waiting for him.

True to his name as the "Bodhi Immortal Lord," even with the Chu family casting such a massive net, Xie Qianjing still found an opportunity to escape.

He was even lucky enough to run into Sheng Ningyu, who had arrived at the Chu family estate.

Xie Qianjing was stunned, his throat too parched to speak, when he saw a stranger from the Chu family pouncing toward Sheng Ningyu from behind.

...The Chu family!

His body’s reaction was far faster than his brain. Even though he was riddled with holes, he stepped forward without a second thought, not wanting to see her suffer any harm.

"Senior Sister Ningyu!"

Xie Qianjing heard that person call out.

How he was pressed to the steps by the rushing Chu clansmen, and what that young man said, Xie Qianjing could not recall; he only heard another voice rise.

"The Xie clan?"

She sheathed her sword and said in an indifferent tone, "Just an outsider. You are my fiancé now; how can he even be compared to you?"

Given the choice between the two, she had shielded the other without hesitation.

Dew deepened and mist thickened, carrying a cool breeze.

A dull pain at the center of his brow struck with hesitation, sharper than any wound he had ever felt before.

This pain exceeded the limits of what Xie Qianjing could bear. The things that even fifteen Soul-Dissolving Nails and a thousand lashes of the Spirit-Binding Whip could not trap, completely dissipated at this moment.

"Immortal Lord Xie is truly worthy of the name 'Exiled Immortal Bodhi' to have escaped even like this." The Chu family member’s voice was cold. The sharp weapon in his henchman’s hand reflected a chilling light. "The Soul-Dissolving Nails seem insufficient. Since you are so good at running, why don’t we just gouge out your kneecaps? I am somewhat curious: after that, where would you like to run to, Immortal Lord Xie?"

The Immortal Lord, who once possessed a beauty as flawless as the Bodhi lotus, now had his dark hair disheveled. His body and face were covered in whip marks, and the flesh was etched with formations that prevented recovery or healing.

Yet, even so, with his hands bound and standing in the center of the formation, no one dared to act rashly for a moment.

He had never looked up before, but when he gazed at them with indifferent eyes now, it sent a bone-chilling shiver through them.

The Chu henchman hesitated, not daring to step forward, until the person in the formation spoke for the first time: "Why did she appear?"

His voice was as light as thin snow, nearly melting into the air.

"Hmm? Her?" The leading Chu clansman suppressed his fear, laughed out loud after a moment of stunned silence. "You mean the Sword Venerable’s female disciple? Naturally, her master sent her to arrange a marriage contract with my good son! My son, if nothing else, has looks that are top-notch—what? Are you still delusional enough to think she came for you?"

Chu Yuandao flicked his sleeves and narrowed his eyes at his henchman. "Tsk, what are you waiting for? Chu Qing, don't tell me you're going to show mercy because Immortal Lord Xie saved your life once?"

Chu Qing took a deep breath and raised his blade.

Severe pain surged from every joint in his body, as if they were being hammered and shattered one by one. Xie Qianjing’s spine finally bent, inch by inch.

From then on, the Bodhi was stained with blood, and the clear lotus fell into ink.

...

After they reunited, it wasn't that Xie Qianjing hadn't thought about killing Sheng Ningyu.

On the contrary, he had thought about it many times.

He had fallen into the demonic path, and those who fall into this path are governed by greed and bloodlust; killing is an instinct. Moreover, if he could completely suppress his inner demon, his power would reach a new level.

His reason calculated everything clearly, and Xie Qianjing could even list hundreds of plans, but all of them were washed away the moment Sheng Ningyu truly appeared.

The inner demon that mimicked her voice still tempted him in his ear, but the moment he looked at her, the moment she smiled, all the monsters and demons of the world vanished into smoke.

Only her.

"Xie Qianjing, you cannot bring yourself to do it. You are so soft-hearted... Good, very good, you will be trapped by me for the rest of your life."

The female voice rose at the end, almost sounding lighthearted, but no matter how well it imitated the voice from his memories, it could not hide the underlying greed and surging malice.

"It seems that one day, I will be able to replace you!"

Surrounded by blood mist, Xie Qianjing’s expression remained unmoved.

He packed away the medicine and stood up.

With every step Xie Qianjing took, the blood mist suddenly billowed upward, pervading every corner of the room, then spread outward, enveloping the inn, and gradually reaching beyond...

In the outskirts.

The dark forest was silent, and the air was heavy with a stifling atmosphere. The many demonic cultivators lurking nearby sensed that supreme aura; their bodies began to tremble involuntarily. Some of the weaker ones, unable to withstand the pressure, began to twitch and convulse. The leading demonic cultivator was equally terrified, kneeling first toward the source of the aura, bowing his head very low.

"Reporting to the Venerable: we have followed your instructions and dealt with those four cultivators."

Although he did not know why the Venerable had driven them away only to deliberately lure those cultivators, seemingly intending to use them as a tool, only for it to end in the death of those four, the Venerable was never wrong.

Feeling the demonic energy above intensify for some reason, the leading demonic cultivator buried his head even lower and said, "Also... furthermore, I have received news that the head of the East Sea Chu family is rushing here. That person in Zuyue City heard some rumors and seems quite annoyed; they are also..."

Xie Qianjing lowered his eyes. "Zuyue City?"

The simple three words made the demonic cultivator shiver, and he braced himself to continue. "Yes. Rumors in the streets say that City Lord Feng is also moving because of the rumors regarding Ghost Cang Pavilion."

Seeing that Xie Qianjing remained silent, the demonic cultivator hurriedly changed the subject. "Venerable, when we retreated earlier, we sensed that a 'Puppet Barrier' seemed to have arisen around the Mitian Realm. May I ask if you need us to clear it?"

The Puppet Barrier was different from demonic energy.

If the biggest difference between demonic cultivators and the righteous path was merely "different paths," then the Puppet Barrier was an entity that made no distinction between friend and foe.

This Puppet Barrier had appeared suddenly in the East Sea decades ago. No one knew its origin; they only knew it was terrifying, capable of silently taking root in the body of any targeted cultivator, manipulating their thoughts and bodies, and turning them into "Puppets."

These "Puppets" would develop cracks like dried mud statues, and within seven days at most, they would shatter into pieces.

The most terrifying part was that even when they cracked, these "Puppets" left no flesh or blood behind. They truly became hollow shells that appeared hard, shattering into scattered pieces like thin pottery at the slightest touch.

It treated the righteous and the wicked with equal indifference.

"No need." Xie Qianjing raised his right hand and glanced at his wrist. His voice was as cold as the moon above the dust. "You know nothing of this matter."

All the demonic creatures present shivered in unison and replied, "We obey the Venerable’s command."

-

On the other side, Sheng Ningyu, who had returned to her room, was also deep in thought.

She had been sealed in a coffin for many years and did not know the current state of the world, but she recognized the sword marks.

The sword mark between Xie Qianjing’s brows definitely came from the "Ninefold Sword."

This sword technique was extremely selective. Whether it was her eldest senior brother who was expelled from the sect, her second senior brother who was so perfect he was called the "First Young Master," or the junior brothers and sisters who joined later, Sword Venerable Guihai had not taught it to them.

He had only taught it to Sheng Ningyu.

Later, when the Fourteen Continents were in turmoil, before Sword Venerable Guihai passed away, he had already cultivated it to nearly the eighth level.

The "Ninefold Sword," as the name implies, had only nine levels.

The nine levels of the sword correspond to nine states: the first is joy, the second is sorrow, the third is bitterness, the fourth is stillness, the fifth can hear the endless suffering of hell's beings, the sixth can see the countless scenes of human joy, and the seventh can understand the wrath of the heavens and gods.

After the eighth level, all is silent.

As for the ninth level, it was said to be called "Invisible"—no one had ever seen it anyway.

Before Sheng Ningyu was sealed, she had stalled at the sixth level.

But whether it was the eighth or sixth level, they were already among the best in the cultivation world.

Especially before she was sealed in the coffin, Sheng Ningyu had her life-bound sword "Wucue" in hand, and her defeated foes were as numerous as river carp—

So, what kind of competition involved a sword blade passing over someone’s brow?

Sheng Ningyu’s brows furrowed tightly.

When she drew her sword, it was either playing around with friends, where cutting off a strand of hair or clothing was the limit, or it was facing a great enemy, where she was truly filled with wrath and overflowing murderous intent.

But if it were the latter, she had always been swift and decisive, drawing blood with every stroke. Her blade was aimed at the throat or the heart—the targets were extremely specific. So, what did it mean for a sword to pass over the brow without actually piercing it?

If it were truly her own doing, what could she have been thinking at the time?

Given Xie Qianjing’s face, which no one could ever forget, Sheng Ningyu felt she should have had some impression.

If it wasn't her, could it have been her master, Sword Venerable Guihai?

But that made even less sense.

And then there was the business between Xie Qianjing and the Chu family...

Having lain for sixty years, those past events were like a boat sailing in the misty rain of Jiangnan—they existed in her memory, but they were unclear and difficult to grasp.

Sheng Ningyu couldn't figure it out, so she simply stopped thinking about it.

One step at a time; the worst-case scenario was being stabbed through by this enemy she couldn't remember before she reclaimed her spiritual bones.

Sheng Ningyu pondered, subconsciously touching her right wrist, but instead of the sticky, blurred flesh, she felt something else.

She was slightly stunned and hesitantly raised her right hand.

The wrist she didn't want to look at was wrapped in several thick layers of white cloth. A faint scent of medicine permeated the air, isolating the long-standing wounds and covering the winding, ugly scars.

Ordinary medicine, cheap gauze.

But this was the first time in sixty years, from the moment her spiritual bones were extracted until now, that Sheng Ningyu had not felt a dull ache in her wrist.

She had never heard of an enemy who helped their opponent apply medicine before attacking.

Sheng Ningyu rotated her wrist and couldn't help but let out a laugh.

Fine, if she were really stabbed by Xie Qianjing before taking her revenge, she would consider it a fair trade.

Sheng Ningyu had a free-spirited mindset and looked at things with great detachment, but she did not expect that something she couldn't disregard would appear soon.

Chu Chang'an.

—Her former fiancé, the current head of the Chu family, had suddenly arrived at the Mitian Realm.