Bu Wei

Many innate magic treasures, blessed with the fortune of heaven and earth, could develop souls and consciousness. These were called artifact spirits. Treasures with artifact spirits, above the heavenly rank, could be called spiritual treasures. In battle, they were in sync with their master’s will, essentially equivalent to having an additional cultivator of the same level for protection.

However, treasures born with artifact spirits were extremely rare, yet their combat power was truly enviable. Sometimes it was like having an extra life. Thus, some cultivators researched methods to create artificial spiritual treasures—

The practice of sacrificing living people to swords had existed since ancient times. Using true fire to roast away flesh and bones while ensuring the soul remained intact required keeping the sacrificed person fully conscious throughout the process. But due to the extreme pain, very few could endure until their soul remained intact. Often, hundreds or thousands of lives were sacrificed before successfully refining one. The true fire would fix the soul within the sword, neither dead nor alive nor extinguished, becoming an artifact spirit.

Ning Buwei considered himself to have committed many evil deeds, but he utterly despised the act of sacrificing living people to swords. Using three or four-year-old children for sword sacrifice was appalling, let alone using one’s own child.

If someone were to use Ning Xiu for sword sacrifice… Ning Buwei became enraged at the mere thought, wanting to kill.

Chu Jun knelt on the ground, wiping the tear-stained dirt from the child’s face. However, the child shook like a sieve, his body rigid with fear, seemingly about to faint from fright. Chu Jun had to let go and asked gently, “What were you doing hiding under the bed?”

Huanhuan’s little face was pale. He wanted to move but didn’t dare, stammering, “Huanhuan… Huanhuan was hungry, looking for something to eat, to fill my tummy…”

He had crawled under the bed in fright when his father suddenly returned to the room.

Ning Buwei saw a plate of pastries on the table. He reached for it and handed it to him, softening his voice, “Eat.”

Huanhuan timidly looked at him, swallowing hard at the aroma of the pastries. He wanted to reach out but didn’t dare, carefully watching Ning Buwei’s expression.

Ning Buwei took a piece of pastry and placed it directly in his palm. “Eat.”

Probably truly starving, the child stuffed the pastry into his mouth, retreating as he ate, as if fearing they might suddenly lose their temper. He lost his balance and fell on his bottom, dropping the pastry which became covered in dust. The child reached out to pick it up.

“Don’t eat that.” Ning Buwei had intended to give him a clean piece, but as soon as he spoke, the child immediately withdrew his hand, kneeling on the ground trembling, with pastry crumbs around his mouth.

Chu Jun stood up to help him, but as soon as he rose, the child fainted from fright.

Chu Jun and Ning Buwei looked at each other in bewilderment.

Ning Buwei was now unable to move freely. Chu Jun picked up the unconscious child and placed him on the bed. Ning Buwei maneuvered his wheelchair over, but noticed Chu Jun’s expression seemed off.

“What’s wrong?” Ning Buwei asked.

Chu Jun rolled up the child’s sleeve. “Look.”

The child was terribly thin. His pale arms were covered in bruises, as if someone had taken out their anger on him. There were also several cuts from a sharp blade, newly scabbed over. They had likely reopened due to his earlier movements, looking ghastly.

Ning Buwei reached out to undo the child’s clothes. This tiny child’s body was covered in signs of abuse – bruises, knife wounds, and burns. The deepest cut was right along his throat, if it had been slightly off, it would have been fatal…

“Beasts,” Ning Buwei said, his face darkening.

“He’s afraid of me,” Chu Jun said, walking to the cabinet to look for medicine. He finally found some in a nearby compartment and returned to the bedside to treat the child.

The child’s earlier behavior clearly showed he was extremely afraid of his mother and strongly resisted any physical contact with her. Who had inflicted these injuries… was self-evident.

Ning Buwei said coldly, “They don’t deserve to be parents.”

Just as Chu Jun finished treating the child, a servant hurriedly entered from outside. Seeing them being so kind to the child, he looked surprised.

Ning Buwei was in a foul mood and snapped, “What is it?”

The servant trembled in fear. “Young Master, everything you ordered earlier has been prepared. Tonight, at midnight…”

Two icy gazes fell upon him, and the servant felt immense pressure. “The auspicious time… the auspicious time for the sword sacrifice.”

“Take me to see,” Ning Buwei said, feeling a thrilling excitement, as if a long-awaited wish was finally being fulfilled. This was clearly not his own emotion, but that of the original owner of the Purple Flame Knife.

He tried to find a hint of guilt or reluctance within, but there was none.

Chu Jun stood up to push his wheelchair.

The servant stammered, “Is the Madam going too?”

“Of course he’s coming,” Ning Buwei said darkly. “Is there a problem?”

Although the servant felt something was off, he was ultimately just a spirit formed from illusory obsessions, without much intelligence. Under the fear ingrained in his bones, he dared not resist and could only obediently lead the way.

They followed the servant to the back courtyard.

The courtyard was quite large, silent and deserted all around. It exuded a chilling and gloomy atmosphere everywhere. The original center of the courtyard had been dug out into a pool three zhang wide and three zhang deep, filled with churning true fire. In the middle stood a knife similar to the Purple Flame, though similar because this knife’s back didn’t have that row of protruding fish bone-like spines, nor was it sharpened.

The servant said, “Young Master, the family head said that as long as you offer a  sacrifice to the knife and bring forth its spirit, your legs will be able to stand again. At that time, the position of family head will naturally be yours.”

He glanced at Chu Jun, seeing that Chu Jun was just standing there without hysteria, he boldly continued, “The little young master has already been fasting for ten days and has been soaking in marrow-cleansing pills. Originally, when offering a sacrifice to the knife, his soul would surely be free of impurities—”

Ning Buwei laughed in extreme anger, “Marrow-cleansing pills?”

“Yes, we have been doing everything according to your instructions, Young Master. It’s just that the Madam often obstructs us,” the servant said, glancing at Chu Jun, a flash of resentment passing over his face. He fell to his knees with a thud and said, “She even frequently beats and threatens us…”

Ning Buwei then felt a surge of anger and resentment rise up. He almost uncontrollably grabbed Chu Jun’s arm and threw him, shouting, “You good-for-nothing woman! If you ruin my plans again, I’ll sacrifice you to the knife as well!”

He was influenced by the original owner’s emotions, and naturally, Chu Jun would be no exception. Even though their cultivation was superior outside this obsession illusion, once they entered this illusion, they would gradually be affected by the original owner’s emotions, and their temperaments would gradually align with the original owner’s. Therefore, changing the outcome within the obsession illusion was no easy task.

Ning Buwei’s throw was extremely forceful. Chu Jun, either not reacting in time or deliberately cooperating, hit his back against a pillar, making a muffled sound.

Ning Buwei was stunned for a moment, that anger and resentment dissipating by half. He said to the servant, “Get out of here.”

The servant, having achieved his goal, scurried away without delay.

Ning Buwei looked up at Chu Jun, frowning, “Are you hurt?”

Chu Jun’s expression was calm. That pink robe, so out of place on him, was worn with a touch of elegance. He brushed his sleeve, “It’s nothing.”

Ning Buwei felt somewhat apologetic, “I was greatly influenced by this original owner.”

Chu Jun nodded, “I also wanted to kill you just now.”

Ning Buwei: “……”

Indeed, worthy of being the Madam who angrily beheaded eight concubines.

Chu Jun said, “This mother abuses her own child, yet can’t bear to use the child as sacrifice to the knife.”

“This father, however, is quite willing. Now he’s excited and thrilled,” Ning Buwei said in a gloomy tone, angered by the original’s emotions. “A pair of scum.”

Chu Jun said, “Since he feels no guilt or remorse, what exactly is bothering him?”

“The couple is not on good terms, there’s not much affection between them, so it’s not about love; he’s excited and thrilled about sacrificing his son, so it’s certainly not guilt towards his son,” Ning Buwei stroked his chin, carefully recalling what had happened since entering the illusion. “For someone like him who only cares about himself, could it be—”

“There was a problem with the knife sacrifice,” Chu Jun said what he was about to say.

They returned to the room.

Upon opening the door, they saw that the child had already woken up and was struggling to climb onto a chair, trying to reach the snacks Ning Buwei had previously placed on the table. Seeing them enter, he was frightened and rolled off the chair.

Ning Buwei swept his long sleeve, scooping the child up from the ground, and brought him close to make eye contact.

The child, suspended by his limbs, looked fearfully at Ning Buwei, “Fa-Father…”

Although influenced by the original’s feelings and wanting to throw the child into the fire pit in the backyard, Ning Buwei disgustedly suppressed that thought and asked, “How old are you?”

“Five years old,” the child wanted to hide, but being held in mid-air, he had nowhere to go. His eyes reddened.

Seeing the child wearing little and shivering, Ning Buwei placed him on his own numb legs and covered him with his wide sleeve, then looked at Chu Jun.

Chu Jun said, “The knife sacrifice is at the Zi hour. We still have three hours.” (TL: 11 pm to 1 am)

Hearing the words “knife sacrifice,” the child trembled on Ning Buwei’s body.

Ning Buwei paused, then asked, “What should we do?”

Chu Jun replied, “It’s up to you.”

Ning Buwei narrowed his eyes, “What if I want this Purple Flame Knife?”

“Then we’ll fulfill the previous owner’s obsession and make up for the deficiency during the knife sacrifice,” Chu Jun said expressionlessly.

Ning Buwei poked the child lying on him, “Probably because his mother’s interference caused this child’s marrow cleansing to be incomplete, resulting in an impure soul during the sacrifice. Before we came in, the Purple Flame Knife was already formed. The obsession is that the original never stood up again and never successfully became the family head.”

Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, a strong feeling of resentment and hatred surged in his chest, urging Ning Buwei to force the entire bottle of marrow-cleansing pills into the child.

Ning Buwei sneered, lazily patting the child’s back.

The pain of marrow cleansing was unbearable, even adult cultivators might die from the pain, let alone a five-year-old child. Earlier, hearing the servant mention soaking in marrow-cleansing pills was probably to prevent the child from being tortured to death, but it likely wasn’t much easier.

He looked up at Chu Jun, “Before the knife sacrifice, force a bottle of marrow-cleansing pills into this child, then throw him into that fire pit to offer as sacrifice to the knife while he’s barely alive. Refine flesh and transform bones, ensuring the soul doesn’t dissipate for eighty-one days. This will resolve the obsession.”

Chu Jun looked down at him, saying calmly, “Ten thousand years ago, this child already suffered this torment and became the knife spirit of this Purple Flame Knife. You and I are just in an illusory obsession. No matter what choice we make, it won’t change what has already happened. It will only determine whether you can obtain the Purple Flame Knife.”

With the approval of the previous owner, this spiritual treasure above the heavenly rank would belong to Ning Buwei, which meant he would essentially gain an extra life.

Ning Buwei lazily propped up his head, smiling, “That’s excellent.”

Chu Jun’s gaze, however, did not move away from him.

Ning Buwei sneered, “Venerable, you don’t actually expect me to change my mind, do you? You said it yourself, this is just an illusion. This little thing isn’t my son.”

“Here,” Chu Jun handed him a porcelain bottle.

Ning Buwei raised an eyebrow, “What’s this?”

“Marrow-cleansing pills,” Chu Jun said. “I picked them up along the way.”

Ning Buwei: “……”

After years of wrongdoing, Ning Buwei experienced for the first time what it meant to have someone hand you a knife to kill or add fuel to your fire.

He uncomfortably lowered his arm and cleared his throat, “You’re from a righteous sect—”

At least criticize his heinous actions.

Chu Jun said coldly and objectively, “It’s just an illusion.”

Just then, the child lying in Ning Buwei’s arms peeked out from under his sleeve, timidly grabbing Ning Buwei’s hand, “Fa-Father, before the knife sacrifice…can I have a small piece of snack?”

He hadn’t eaten anything for ten days and was truly starving.

Ning Buwei looked at him with a stern face.

The child trembled in fear.

An incense stick’s time later, the child was wolfing down the food on the table, nearly choking several times. Chu Jun pushed a cup of water towards him.

He was startled at first, then secretly glanced at Chu Jun a couple of times. Only after making sure Chu Jun wouldn’t act did he slowly pick up the cup and drink most of the water.

Huanhuan knew he was about to die, or perhaps suffer something worse than death, but his father and mother hadn’t beaten or scolded him for once, which made him feel a bit of unexpected joy.

Children always remember kindness more than punishment.

“Stop eating, you’ll get indigestion,” Chu Jun saw he had eaten quite a bit and stopped him.

Huanhuan immediately put down the half-eaten chicken leg in his hand, sitting awkwardly on the stool, looking at Ning Buwei and then at Chu Jun. He hadn’t really understood much of what they said earlier, but he knew he would be used as a sacrifice to the knife. Despite his fear, he somehow found a bit of courage.

He climbed down from the stool, walked to Ning Buwei’s side, and tugged at his sleeve, “Father, tonight can… can we…”

He lowered his head and mumbled for a while, finally saying, “Take Huanhuan and Mother to see… see the lanterns?”

Tonight happened to be the Lantern Festival.

Ning Buwei sat in the wheelchair with a relaxed expression, Chu Jun pushed the chair behind him, and Huanhuan obediently walked beside the wheelchair, eyes wide open looking at the floating lanterns in the air.

“Hey, how did that cripple Cui Chenghong get out?”

“I heard today Madam Cui killed all eight of his concubines in a fit of rage, how are they still so peaceful?”

“Is that their son Cui Yuanbai? Wasn’t he said to be seriously ill?”

“……”

The surrounding people whispered, and Ning Buwei found the name “Cui Chenghong” familiar, but couldn’t remember immediately.

Chu Jun said behind him, “I’ve told you about him before.”

Ning Buwei…Ning Buwei remembered. Back when they were studying at Wanxuan Academy, Chu Jun taught them swordsmanship, but occasionally would also teach them some knife techniques, inevitably using examples of ancestors skilled with knives and their famous blades.

“Cui Chenghong was a Mahayana stage cultivator from ten thousand years ago, the ancestor of today’s Cui family. Though unable to walk, his Purple Flame knife technique was divine. His natal treasure, the Purple Flame Knife, was a spiritual treasure above the heavenly rank. Legend has it that its spirit was refined from his own child, accompanying him in cultivation for a thousand years. But Cui Chenghong developed a heart demon due to his leg disability, failed his ascension tribulation, and perished in today’s Zhongzhou…”

Ning Buwei wasn’t very interested in knives when he was young, and forgot why he had listened to the lecture instead of sleeping. Even if he had listened, who would remember these trivial things after five hundred years? He didn’t recall when he saw the Purple Flame Knife, but with Chu Jun’s reminder, he even remembered that it was snowing outside on the day Chu Jun gave the lecture. He had stopped Chu Jun on the way, asking a tricky question, successfully stumping the Head Master Chu, feeling smug for a long time.

The lanterns were mesmerizing. Amidst the noise, a warm hand fell on Ning Buwei’s shoulder.

Chu Jun leaned slightly, his gaze falling on the swaying lanterns, and whispered something in his ear.

The warm breath on his ear lobe caused a ticklish feeling to rise from the depths of his heart, making him unconsciously twitch his ear.

Chu Jun lowered his eyes to look at the slightly reddened tip of his ear, unconsciously rubbing his fingertip.

Huanhuan, probably infected by the festive atmosphere, had bright eyes and tugged at Chu Jun’s sleeve, “Mother, I want a candied haw.”

His face turned pale after speaking, frozen in place, not knowing what to do. Unexpectedly, Chu Jun really went to the vendor and bought two strings of candied haws, giving one to him. The child was immediately overwhelmed with joy.

Chu Jun handed the other string of candied haws to Ning Buwei.

Ning Buwei’s face was expressionless, “What for?”

“For you,” Chu Jun said.

Ning Buwei sneered coldly, “I don’t want it.”

He, a great demon, eating candied haws like a child? How unseemly!

“It’s just an illusion,” Chu Jun stuffed the candied haws into his hand.

Ning Buwei, with his long legs sprawled in the wheelchair, sat without proper posture, holding the string of candied haws that tarnished his image with great dissatisfaction. He stuffed it into the hand of the child beside him.

Huanhuan suddenly felt like he was dreaming, happily holding two strings of candied haws, licking one, looking at the lanterns, then looking at his parents beside him, feeling content.

When the three returned from the street, it was close to Zi hour. The child had walked too much and fell asleep from exhaustion, carried in Chu Jun’s arms, still with a smile on his face.

The true fire in the knife sacrifice pit in the backyard was still burning. The Purple Flame Knife hummed in the pit, with the pre-arranged formation around it responding, waiting for the fresh soul to consecrate the knife.

Ning Buwei’s cold, narrow eyes reflected the firelight from the pit, falling on the yet-to-be-formed Purple Flame Knife. The desire for the Purple Flame Knife belonging to Cui Chenghong surged in his heart, but he forcefully suppressed it.

Chu Jun stood beside him. The child in his arms slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the Purple Flame Knife, but his expression was unusually calm.

“Bang! Bang bang!”

Under the black night sky, countless brilliant fireworks exploded.

Ning Buwei leaned back in his chair, looking up, and commented, “These fireworks are really ugly.”

Chu Jun’s eyes flickered with a hint of amusement.

Ning Buwei’s gaze fell back on the Purple Flame Knife, “This knife is also quite ugly, not as good as Suzaku.”

Huanhuan, held by Chu Jun, sleepily tugged at Chu Jun’s sleeve, “Mother, aren’t we… offering a sacrifice to the knife yet?”

Ning Buwei said, “This firework is decent, barely passable.”

“Mmm,” Chu Jun agreed, then asked the child in his arms, “Which one do you think looks good?”

Huanhuan looked up in a daze, gazing at the fireworks filling the sky. Suddenly, he began to sob quietly, gradually crying louder and louder, until finally breaking into loud wails.

“Bang!”

Another firework exploded in the night sky.

As the Zi hour passed, all the formations in the backyard instantly failed, and the true fire in the pit quietly extinguished.

****

All the obsession illusions shattered into countless specks, revealing the true appearance of the space they were in.

Ning Buwei and Chu Jun stood side by side in front of a fire pit. The eternal true fire burned within, where the soul of a young child was constantly being scorched. At this moment, the child was hugging his knees and wailing loudly.

Though merely a knife spirit, unable to shed real tears, he cried hoarsely, as if millions of years of sadness and grief had finally found an outlet, bursting forth. Yet, because there was so much, it became heart-wrenching and inconsolable.

This wasn’t Cui Chenghong’s obsession illusion, but the obsession illusion of his own child, Cui Yuanbai, who had been refined into the knife spirit.

Ten thousand years ago, Cui Chenghong became crippled due to a magic duel, losing his ability to walk and his right to become the family head. His wife, Wang Shi, who had always loved him deeply, didn’t abandon him despite his disability. She brought Cui Chenghong and their son Cui Yuanbai to a small city in Zhongzhou, planning to live in seclusion, away from worldly affairs.

However, Cui Chenghong couldn’t accept his fate. He searched everywhere for a way to cure his legs and, bitter at heart, indulged in the company of women. The couple grew distant, and Wang Shi developed a heart demon, her personality changing drastically. She vented her resentment on Cui Yuanbai, often beating and scolding him, which made Cui Chenghong despise her even more.

When Cui Yuanbai was five years old, Cui Chenghong somehow obtained a method to refine a living person into a knife spirit. After many failed attempts, he set his sights on his own son. Cui Yuanbai was born with a divine spirit, intelligent beyond his years, with a resilient character, and unsullied by the mortal world, his soul pure and flawless.

Ignoring Wang Shi’s objections, Cui Chenghong ordered people to make Cui Yuanbai fast and cleanse his marrow for days. On the night of the Lantern Festival, at the Zi hour, he threw the five-year-old child into the fire pit, refining flesh and transforming bones. The living soul was scorched by true fire for eighty-one days, finally refining into the spiritual treasure Purple Flame Knife. His wife, Wang Shi, unable to bear it, took her own life before the knife.

With this knife, Cui Chenghong became famous. He left the main Cui family and established his own Cui clan. Later, the main family died out, but Cui Chenghong’s line continued for over ten thousand years.

A thousand years after refining the Purple Flame Knife, Cui Chenghong reached the Mahayana realm. However, when ascending, he failed to overcome his heart demon and perished in Zhongzhou. The Purple Mansion fell in Yumian Mountain of Leyuan City in Zhongzhou. The Purple Flame Knife took root in the Purple Mansion, its spirit constantly scorched by true fire, its obsession unresolved, forming its own illusion until ten thousand years later, when the Purple Mansion Secret Realm was discovered.

After witnessing the little spirit’s memories, Ning Buwei and Chu Jun remained silent for a long time.

Cui Yuanbai was only five years old when he was refined into a knife spirit. His soul’s form and mind were forever frozen at five years old. All his sadness and grief, the obsession formed over ten thousand years—

Was nothing more than wanting to eat a full meal before death, to go see the Lantern Festival lanterns with his parents, and if his mother could buy him a string of candied haws, that would be even better.

He waited for over ten thousand years, finally meeting two people.

One gave him the snacks he wanted to eat.

One bought him the candied haws he wanted to eat.

This was all a young child desired.