After Being Preached by my Senior Martial Brother

Feng Xuan gasped in his embrace, tears constantly rolling down from the corners of his eyes, unstoppable. He clutched Feng Li’s clothes tightly, his voice breaking into pieces, yet urgent. “Father. Have you seen Qi Zhuoyu?”

Feng Li just lowered his head, weeping, wiping away the crystalline tears on his face over and over again.

Suddenly, Feng Xuan sat up from the Hu bed, ignoring Feng Li’s attempts to stop him. He frantically searched everywhere in the courtyard for the flowers planted in spring, the fruit trees planted in summer, the dried pears from autumn, all traces of the life he had lived with Qi Zhuoyu.

There was nothing, Zhujian Xiaozhu was empty, only that one Wutong Tree remained, its leaves rustling as the wind blew through it.

Time had become normal again.

But he was not normal.

“How can there be nothing?” Feng Xuan couldn’t understand. He searched bit by bit, everywhere. “How can there be nothing?”

He thought, I lived here for so long, with Senior Brother.

Feng Li was startled and quickly pulled Feng Xuan into an embrace.

He stroked Feng Xuan’s head, as if comforting him. “Ling’er, what’s wrong? What are you looking for? Tell Father, alright?”

Feng Xuan stared at him, as if grasping the last piece of driftwood.

He urgently repeated to Feng Li the scenes of his year living here. He told Feng Li that in the disaster at the Chaotic Sea, he had found Qi Zhuoyu. Senior Brother was so lucky, he had survived unscathed, nothing had happened to him.

As it should be.

Qi Zhuoyu always boasted he was the best in the Three Realms, he must have survived.

He had even promised to marry him.

Feng Xuan spoke excitedly. “Then we returned to Zhujian Xiaozhu, we celebrated the new year together. On New Year’s Eve, we went down the mountain to buy two sets of wedding clothes and two red candles. We married that night and lived at Zhujian Xiaozhu. In spring, I planted many flowers. In summer, there were fruits. In autumn, I dried pears… Father, I dried pears, ate them on the Hu bed, Senior Brother was there too, on the Hu bed, right here… right…”

He stopped, bewildered.

Feng Li was already crying uncontrollably.

“Ling’er. Those were all illusions.”

“How could they be illusions, Father?” Feng Xuan panicked and began to explain. “That’s impossible. I remember clearly, Qi Zhuoyu came out of the Chaotic Sea, we even watched the sunrise together.”

He seemed to be trying to convince Feng Li, or more so himself. Feng Xuan repeated over and over what he had done in these four seasons. He repeated word for word, as if afraid of forgetting, but as he repeated, he was gradually forgetting.

Because Zhujian Xiaozhu bore no trace of his life with Qi Zhuoyu.

He lost his strength, like a bowstring stretched to its limit, finally snapping at this moment.

“But I couldn’t find him anywhere,” Feng Xuan cried in despair. “I couldn’t find him anywhere!”

Feng Li said softly, “It’s my fault.”

Feng Xuan seemed to realize something and came to his senses.

He shook his head, mumbling. “It’s not Father’s fault. It should be my fault, I was always lazy in cultivation, never diligent. If Qi Zhuoyu hadn’t given me his cultivation at that time, he definitely wouldn’t have died. It’s all my fault, all my fault.”

Feng Li shook his head and said, “Ling’er. You don’t understand. Qi Zhuoyu was destined to have his soul scattered. Don’t you understand why only his primordial spirit could suppress the Chaotic Sea? Because he, like your Father God, was one of the first divine spirits born from the Primordial River.”

There was a hint of confusion in Feng Xuan’s gaze.

“At first, your Father God calculated that you would definitely face a love tribulation within a thousand years, a tribulation that would destroy you forever,” Feng Li slowly began. “After your Father God left, you were Father’s only child. How could I bear to let you suffer? So I went to find Siming and had him create a mortal fate for you as Xiao Qi, to let your love tribulation vanish in the mortal realm. This way, even if you returned to the Ninth Heaven, you wouldn’t suffer any harm.”

“But I never imagined you would destroy your own primordial spirit for this mortal, nor did I imagine this mortal would be a divine spirit from the Primordial River like your Father God,” Feng Li continued. “I thought by cutting off your love thread and sealing your emotions with the Heartless Pearl, I could sever your connection with him completely. I only knew he was destined to have his primordial spirit extinguished, but I didn’t know my Ling’er would love him so deeply. This tribulation still came to pass on you.”

After Feng Li finished speaking, everything was quiet.

Feng Xuan’s reaction was somewhat slow. He had thought of everything

But he never imagined Qi Zhuoyu’s life was destined to be a dead end.

Destined to dissipate in the world like Father God, destined that everything he did was useless and in vain.

The nightmare beast gently jumped down, nuzzling affectionately beside him.

It had once devoured part of Feng Xuan’s memories, but now slowly spit them out, returning them to Feng Xuan.

Those memories, as hazy as mist, now appeared in his mind like a kaleidoscope.

Their first meeting at Misty Immortal Mansion, the lanterns on New Year’s Eve in Chang’an, the desert in Guixu Country of the South Sea, the endless ocean below the Sanqing Realm, and the sunrise in the Dongyi demon realm. There was the wooden hairpin he gave, the small portrait he hung, the dragon carriage he stole, him holding his hand as he thrust the Buyuan Knife through his heart, and hearing him say he didn’t resent him.

The last memory froze on the image of Qi Zhuoyu running towards him.

He remembered the feeling of dying under the apocalyptic lightning tribulation, the shattering of his primordial spirit was truly painful.

He was in so much pain, yet the one who looked like he was about to die was Qi Zhuoyu. He had never seen Qi Zhuoyu cry so heartbrokenly. In his memories, he was always strong and unyielding, yet he saw Qi Zhuoyu curled up under the Wutong Tree, face covered in bloody tears, desperately piecing together his shattered soul.

Unexpectedly, Feng Xuan’s heart felt like it was about to explode with pain.

That Heartless Pearl placed in his heart suddenly shattered into dust.

Feng Xuan uncontrollably vomited another mouthful of fresh blood.

The bleeding wouldn’t stop, forming pool after pool of dried blood on the ground.

He felt as if he might shatter into countless particles of dust.

Feng Xuan didn’t know that Qi Zhuoyu had waited for him in such desperate pain for a full two hundred years.

He couldn’t hold on any longer and fell into complete unconsciousness.

Feng Xuan slept through the long winter season.

When he awoke, spring had already arrived at Qifeng Palace.

It seemed he had slept for a very, very long time.

He had no dreams, and no one entered his dreams.

Feng Li had been sitting in Qifeng Palace waiting for him to wake up.

Seeing him awake, Feng Li was both surprised and delighted, his expression full of deep sorrow and glistening with tears.

“You slept for a very long time. Father thought you would never wake up.”

Feng Xuan knew he had worried his father.

He looked up at Feng Li’s face.

Father seemed to have aged a lot suddenly. He used to be the most beautiful in the Three Realms, but now his eyes were gradually becoming dull, showing a sense of powerlessness against fate and the laws of heaven.

He also knew he shouldn’t be willful anymore.

But he still couldn’t accept the reality of Qi Zhuoyu’s soul being scattered.

“Father… I’m sorry,” Feng Xuan hugged Feng Li, burying his face in his embrace, crying for Qi Zhuoyu one last time, his voice muffled. “I will get better.” He thought, hopefully he would get better, though perhaps he would never truly recover.

Feng Xuan thought, Qi Zhuoyu had waited for him for two hundred years, he could wait too.

From this day on, Feng Xuan slowly learned to digest the reality of not seeing Qi Zhuoyu for a very long time.

He tried to live like a normal person, learning his previous lifestyle.

No longer making those who cared about him sad.

Yue’er and Jingyu came to see him.

They said Feng Xuan now looked like a living empty shell, seemingly fine on the outside, but crumbling bit by bit inside. Sooner or later he would break down, shattering into dust or something else. As Yue’er spoke, she cried quietly, knowing Feng Xuan was trying hard not to make them cry.

Feng Xuan would sleep under the Divine Wutong Tree, and wake up startled in the middle of the night, starting to shake uncontrollably.

He would gaze at the empty Qifeng Palace, thinking Qi Zhuoyu should appear soon, fearing that if too much time passed, he might forget his face.

Days passed like this, as he guarded the few memories he had left.

The mortal realm’s winter passed again, welcoming a new year’s spring.

On this day, Siming suddenly appeared in Qifeng Palace.

When he arrived, Feng Xuan was looking at the Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains painting, regretting that he had recorded too few scenes, with barely any frontal views of Qi Zhuoyu, mostly side profiles and back views.

Siming gave him a White Jade Capital salute and said, “Your Highness.”

Feng Xuan looked up at him.

Siming slowly began, “This minor god came today to ask Your Highness. Does Your Highness remember, this minor god once told Your Highness that the divine realm would face a major event related to Qi Zhuoyu within a hundred years, an event closely tied to Your Highness?”

It had been a long time since Feng Xuan had heard Qi Zhuoyu’s name from others.

Hearing it suddenly felt somewhat strange.

For some reason, he looked at Siming.

His heart, dead silent for who knows how long, began to beat again at the mention of “Qi Zhuoyu”.

Feng Xuan stammered. “I remember. What about it?”

Siming: “May I take a look at Your Highness’s Divine Soul Lamp?”

Feng Xuan materialized the Divine Soul Lamp in his palm.

Siming looked at it and said, “Your Highness. In this world, for every cause there is an effect. Qi Zhuoyu once used this Divine Soul Lamp to nourish your soul, burning nearly half of his own primordial spirit. Therefore, there is still a faint trace of his unburnt primordial spirit in the Divine Soul Lamp.”

Feng Xuan heard his own heartbeat growing louder.

He could hardly control his emotions and anxiously asked, “Zitong, what do you mean?”

Siming smiled and said, “Your Highness. What I mean is, Qi Zhuoyu still has a glimmer of hope for life.”

Their gazes both fell on the Divine Soul Lamp, as Siming slowly said, “Right here in this Divine Soul Lamp.”