Chapter 1: Sandalwood

It’s Snowing.

It's cold.

The blood is hot.

Snowflakes fell from the gloomy sky in the middle of winter, concealing the outlines of the surrounding barren mountains, and sky and mountains suddenly became the same colo.

Shen Du was a little confused about the direction.

His vision was already blurred. The wounds on his left shoulder and right abdomen were savagely opening, and the blood gushing out continuously took away his strength and temperature, leaving bright traces in this barren mountain.

But he doesn't care.

He would not have escaped here if the chasing soldiers had been faster; if he had escaped here, the heavy snow would have had ample time to hide his footprints.

What's more, there is Tianji Temple in front, right?

Cough!

The stone in the deep valley stumbled, and Shen Du's footsteps were heavy and staggering, but he was luckily supported by Chuihong sword in his hand, and he narrowly escaped falling to the earth. It's only that the qi and blood in the entire body are already in chaos, which has been worsened by the shock.

He coughed, and blood stained his thin lips and spilled on the front of his robe.

The crane cloak, which was only put on three hours ago, was originally a deep purple color. After being soaked with the blood of others or his own, it became darker and darker.

Even the large golden pattern of the Sixteen Heavenly Demons woven and embroidered on the wide sleeved robe was stained.

Where can we see the profound prestige and courage of the ten-year Daoist of the Demonic Path?

He's frightened that even begging by the side of the road is a hundred, thousand times better than him.

Laugh!

He couldn't help but sneer, and Shen Du simply felt the bloody smell surge up his throat, and he was going to vomit a mouthful of blood almost the next instant.

But he gritted his teeth and held it back!

The pale and delicate face's deep ink pupils are stronger than the wind and colder than the surrounding snow!

It's not that he can't die.

In the ten years of the Demonic Path, he has seen countless lives and deaths, and he has personally damaged the lives of countless people. He never imagined he could die peacefully after murdering his father and mother and obtaining that position.

Only Pei Wuji innocently prepared a golden silk nanmu coffin for him.

Pei Wuji: "If you die one day, I will bury you in this coffin, and then hang it on the Jiantianya. Everything is the same as when you were alive, you can see the earliest sunrise, the latest the sunset is the longest day and the shortest night."

Yes, Shen Du didn't like night.

He remembered that when he was leaning on the soft couch, he laughed and called Pei Wuji a fool.

Because, with his skill and cultivation, there are very few people in the world who can beat him. If something happened one day and he died, it must have been a big change.

Under such circumstances, how could someone like him keep his whole body?

Coffins are all in vain.

But Shen Du didn't want to die right now, and he couldn't

I don't want to die here, and I can't die here.

This time, it is the siege of the righteous path in the world, and there are people on the Demonic Path who have their own calculations!

Once he dies here, on the way to escape, he will be found sooner or later, his head will be cut off with a knife, and then he will hang on the high flagpole at Wufengkou, becoming a brilliant footnote in the great achievements of others!

But–

There is simply no purpose for him to make wedding dresses for others in this world when only people produce wedding dresses for him!

Even if he were to die, he would die in a place that these people couldn't reach!

At the age of seventeen, he murdered his father and mother, first learned the path of demons, and practiced the Liuhe Divine Art.

At the age of 22, he successfully defeated the first immortal of Pengshan, Gu Zhao, and defeated Lu Feichan, the head of Xiefeng Villa. With the exception of Shanzai, a wise monk from the Tianji Temple, who does not eat the fireworks of the human world, does not walk around Jianghu, and has no chance to fight against each other, no one in the other sects of the right way can stop him, and since then he has divided the world with the right way.

. .

Gu Zhao put an invitation to him, invited him to a banquet to talk about peace, and discussed the matter of going to the Tianji Temple to retrieve the three volumes of Buddha's treasure.

If there is no good feast, there will be no good meeting.

He knew it was a grand banquet, and he wasn't entirely prepared, but he didn't anticipate the knife that nearly killed him at a critical moment to come from behind the back he trusted the most.

At that moment, Gu Zhao, who was fighting fiercely with him, showed a bit of surprise. He's afraid that he is extremely smart, and he has not counted this one, right?

The rugged mountain road came to an end, and there was no road ahead.

A deep valley lies below.

Shen Du was stiff and unable to move. He lowered his eyes and let go of the palm pressing against the wound in his abdomen. The blood-stained fingers resembled dead branches, and the wound was readily visible after it was removed.

This is the kind of wound that even the sharpest knife in the world can inflict.

Flat and smooth.

He still remembered the dim silver light when it penetrated, like a cold moon reflected in the lake and crushed by water waves, with a few scarlet clouds and thunder patterns floating on the tip.

Likewise, he also remembered Pei Wuji's eyes when he first got the knife. 

In the eyes of others, Pei Wuji is a wolf, but in front of him, Pei Wuji is only a dog. 

When he was pleased, he indulged him and called him; when he was unhappy, he drove him away and told him to leave.

He has been in charge of the Demonic Path for ten years, and he has raised Pei Wuji for ten years. 

He killed Pei Wuji's parents and saved Pei Wuji's life; he stopped Pei Wuji's hands and feet and offered Pei Wuji cultivation instructions; he urged Pei Wuji to help him relieve Liuhe Divine Art’s backlash, and he also sat and watched Pei Wuji step by step stand beside him.

Pei Wuji is Shen Du's knife. 

The world knows it.

But Shen Du had no idea and didn't believe that this knife would stab him one day.

In the past ten years, if he wanted to kill him, there were countless opportunities, no matter which one would be better than the one three hours ago.

The knife was the one he gave to Pei Wuji.

Who is the person with the knife?

Shen Du didn't see it. So he didn't know whether the person behind him was Pei Wuji, whether Pei Wuji betrayed him, or maybe he would never know in this life.

The meridians are broken, the infuriating qi is scattered, and the blood loss is too much.

He could collapse at any moment.

But the Tianji Temple was not far ahead, and his vanity and arrogance would not allow him to collapse here, and he had always treated himself mercilessly and viciously.

As soon as the white jade-like Chuihong sword was lifted, it struck the arm with a deep stroke!

The small amount of blood in the body spilled out once more.

The severe pain jolted his lazy consciousness awake, and his eyes brightened quickly. He pushed his way down the valley, and when he looked up, he saw a deep canyon.

It seemed as if a mountain had broken a gap here, and the unfrozen stream flowed away from Shen Du's one foot through the gap from the other end of the canyon.

The shallows are stone-paved.

The stones were merely strewn with flakes of melting snow.

It is said that Bukong Mountain, where the Tianji Temple is located, is the Shenxiu of Zhongtian and integrates the creation of yin and yang. The earth's air is gathered, the winter is not cold, the snow does not accumulate, proving that it is not a hoax.

Shen Du was already in a trance.

He staggered forward, stepping on the stones on the shoal, against the stream, and walked towards the steep canyon.

It was dimly lit inside, and there was a lot of moss growing.

There are ancient and new blood stains left on the lonely and high cliffs, some of which have become blended with the color of the rocks, and some of which are still maroon, as if sprinkled only a few days ago.

He doesn't need to think deeply to realize that for hundreds of years, he has no idea how many people have died unintentionally on this last stretch of road. Perhaps it is a high-level chivalrous person who avoids calamity, or perhaps it is a lunatic who flees for his life.

Every person who walks in the world knows that Tianji Temple is a place outside the world that rarely interferes in the world's troubles; and one of the more famous ones is a certain rule of Tianji Temple.

The name is: Zhige

No matter if it is good or evil, what kind of identity, what kind of miserable experience you have, or how much innocent blood you have smeared, as long as you enter the scope of Tianji Temple, to this pure place of Buddhism - you must not draw your sword or fight again.

For more than ten years, Shen Du has heard many innocent and weak people save their lives because of this rule, and also heard many desperate murderers escaped because of this rule...

But he never imagined he'd become one of them today.

It was clearly a short journey, but he walked for a whole moment.

The inner strength that he gained from cultivating Liuhe Divine Art has nowhere to be put, and has long since scattered into his internal organs. For Shen Du, this was more deadly than the sword wound on his shoulder and abdomen.

He thought that he might not live long.

All of his limbs were in excruciating pain, yet it couldn't wake him up. Even the Chuihong sword could not be grasped by that long and powerful palm.

Dang!

It slipped from his grip and landed on the canyon rock's edge.

The dim and gloomy light from the snowy sky penetrated into his eyes. When he walked out of the canyon and saw the legendary tall stone tablet engraved with "Tianji Temple" and "Zhige" on its back, Shen Du's will finally reached its limit. 

Unable to hold it any longer, he fell headlong.

Just like the sword that has been with him for ten years.

Crash!

The person fell into the flowing stream, splashed open, and the blood-soaked robe spread out in the water, washing out the redness of the stream, and the shadow of the stone tablet reflected in the stream was stained with blood.

Consciousness gradually disappears.

The moment before he completely lost his senses, he could only smell the faint scent of white sandalwood mixed with the icy cold air, which reminded him of Buddhist temples, three thousand gods and Buddha.

Footnotes:

Chuihong sword 垂虹劍 - this is literally means Rainbow Sword but I used pinyin on the name making it “chuíhóng sword”

Nanmu - a knotty wood that frequently shows a wavy or quilted grain figure.

Liuhe Divine Art/Six Harmonies - refer to coordination between three external joints (6 total, 3 per side) and the coordination of three internal processes that align emotion and intention.