Chapter 6

Paper talisman?
…What talisman paper?
Su Xue’s body felt as if it had fallen apart, both limp and aching. If another soul inhabited this shell, it would have long since fainted.
He did not want to collapse helplessly to the ground; supporting himself on the frost-covered frame, he slowly rose.
The frost formed from Xie Zhefeng’s outward spiritual energy had cut into his palm, and the fresh blood that had just emerged froze instantly, resembling red plum blossoms blooming in the snow.
He felt neither the relief of surviving a calamity nor the panic of a life-and-death moment.
Xie Zhefeng released his grip, but under the owner’s spiritual energy, the Furnace Seal flared up even more fiercely. He even wanted to pull back the other’s retreating hand and move it forward.
Fortunately, the piercing pain slightly restored his rationality.
If the other had released his hand a moment later, Chunhua would inevitably strike.
He had already prepared for a fight to the death.
Yet, Xie Zhefeng seemed completely unaware of Chunhua’s movements behind him, as if he had not used his divine senses at all.
Inside the room, the spiritual restrictions around the magical tools had long been broken by spiritual energy, and the many spiritual treasures outside that could have caused bloodshed were scattered on the ground as if worthless.
Though Xie Zhefeng stood amid the chaos with a somber expression, the murderous intent in all directions had largely dissipated.
An Wuxue’s breathing grew more rapid.
Yet Xie Zhefeng kept his head lowered, silent.
After a moment, he raised his hand, his fingertips gently moving, and the talisman papers scattered on the floor floated into the air, landing in his palm.
So those were the talisman papers in question.
They bore the runes he had altered.
…Could it be that Xie Zhefeng recognized them?!
“These talisman papers are not something you could have drawn.”
Sure enough, he recognized them!
Fortunately, he did not suspect Su Xue.
Of course.
Xie Zhefeng had personally killed him years ago. Even if he entertained the slightest possibility that he might not have died, he would never have imagined that he would brazenly remain on the Falling Moon Peak, live beside the Frost Burial Sea, and stoop to serve as a pet furnace vessel presented by a minor sect to the peak.
Even he could not have foreseen it.
An Wuxue wanted to speak, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a whisper-like tremor slipped out.
He pressed his lips tightly, tensed his body, and said nothing.
Xie Zhefeng was momentarily stunned, then stepped forward slightly, bending just a little to grasp his wrist.
Such a domineering move from the other advancing on him...
What was he trying to do?!
An Wuxue suddenly startled and shrank back.
Xie Zhefeng frowned and firmly grabbed the hand that was retreating.
He had never panicked even when his throat was strangled, but now, because of this advancing move, he struggled desperately.
He feared that Xie Zhefeng would seize his hand like a thousand years ago and call him “Senior Brother” in his ear; feared that the touch would trigger the Furnace Seal beyond control; feared that Xie Zhefeng would interrogate and humiliate him.
He would rather Xie Zhefeng kill him cleanly and decisively!
His voice hoarse, he said, “…Immortal Lord! I—”
“Don’t move.”
He could not move.
Su Xue’s cultivation at the Disciplinary Stage was insignificant before a Longevity Immortal.
Xie Zhefeng held onto An Wuxue’s wrist without the slightest movement.
A warm current suddenly flowed from An Wuxue’s wrist through his entire body.
He was no longer cold, no longer hot, nor in pain.

The organs that had seemed shattered by the blast of spiritual energy just moments ago quieted down.
The Furnace Seal ceased its activity.
Xie Zhefeng released his grip.
An Wuxue was stunned.
His internal injuries had healed, and the Furnace Seal’s flare-up was suppressed.
Xie Zhefeng seemed eager to know the truth, showing no interest in his earlier abnormality, and continued questioning, “The talisman papers.”
An Wuxue took a deep breath, biting his lip, trying his best not to make a sound.
He had nearly impulsively asked “Why?” just now.
He had indeed disappointed his master’s expectations, felt unworthy before Qi Xun, and disregarded the sect and the two realms’ opinions of him. Yet toward Xie Zhefeng, he had a clear conscience.
Why was it that Xie Zhefeng could coldly sever ties, kill him at will, and yet when he wanted to learn something from him, he graciously healed his internal injuries and suppressed the flare-up?
He wanted to point at Xie Zhefeng’s nose and ask these questions.
But he had died once and was no longer a rash youth.
He knew that once he uttered that “Why,” he would return to the An Wuxue who could not sever ties with his junior brother.
He hesitated for a moment, then finally suppressed all thoughts.
After gradually regaining strength, he responded calmly in a low voice, “…They’re talisman papers from the sect.”
His tone was no longer as obedient as the last time they met, but Xie Zhefeng was not focused on that and simply said, “Cloud Sword Sect?”
Su Xue had been a gift from the Cloud Sword Sect to the Falling Moon Peak.
“…Yes,” An Wuxue lied, “Perhaps the Cloud Sword Sect brought them back from some secret realm or immortal calamity ruins.”
During the calamity, as the head of the Falling Moon Peak, he had fought many demon cultivators. It was normal for some useless talisman papers to fall to the ground and be picked up by others.
Even if Xie Zhefeng discovered the clues, tracing the origin of such insignificant, useless talisman papers would be difficult—by then, he might have long since fled.
He had woven a web of lies, waiting for Xie Zhefeng to continue questioning.
But the man said no more. Instead, he stood straight and used his spiritual energy to lift An Wuxue up.
An Wuxue rose with him, quietly observing Xie Zhefeng.
The man’s expression was especially gloomy, the sword pattern on his brow flickering faintly, his black eyes deep and bottomless as if an abyss.
If it weren’t for the impossibility of mistaking him for Xie Zhefeng, one might think he was a demon cultivator in disguise.
Xie Zhefeng had returned early today, his steps unsteady upon arrival, and just now had been wildly volatile—clearly not in his usual state.
What was this...?
He focused again and within moments, the man’s expression remained profound, but the sword pattern had faded away.
Was he overthinking?
Standing before him was the ruthless and resolute Xie Zhefeng, the Cold Sword Lord who unified the two realms and ended the immortal calamity.
There was no way he was connected to the word “demon.”
He said nothing, and neither did Xie Zhefeng.
The man stared at the talisman papers in his hand, lost in thought, his expression growing even darker.
The surrounding spiritual energy stirred again under Xie Zhefeng’s mental influence.
He had just grown a little warm, but the cold wind made him shiver again.
If this continued, there would be no need for Xie Zhefeng to kill him; this fragile body would collapse on its own.
“Immortal Lord…”
Xie Zhefeng’s eyes darkened; he closed them briefly, then reopened with a calm gaze.
It was as if everything that had just happened was merely An Wuxue’s illusion.
A Horizon and Edge talisman for transmitting sound flew from Xie Zhefeng’s hand, and two disciples guarding near the Frost Burial Sea appeared at the door, bowing respectfully: “Immortal Lord.”
Xie Zhefeng handed one of them a talisman paper that An Wuxue had dropped earlier and instructed, “Take this to the Cloud Sword Sect. Investigate the origin of this item thoroughly. No matter whose hands it has passed through, every name must be reported.”
“Remember, safeguard this talisman paper carefully; do not lose it.”
“Yes.” The disciple saluted, moved his spiritual energy, and departed.
An Wuxue was left speechless.
The Cloud Sword Sect would surely report nothing.
Xie Zhefeng gave no further orders but turned to An Wuxue: “I will not leave this place until the Cloud Sword Sect reports back. You will temporarily reside at the Frost Sea. You may freely use the spiritual medicines and treasures above the Frost Sea. But if you disturb anything you should not, even if you… I will no longer show mercy.”
An Wuxue had no words.
To live at the Frost Sea.
Under the same roof as Xie Zhefeng.
Truly, what one fears is what comes to pass.
Besides, even if he… he what?
The man tossed him a Horizon and Edge talisman.
“As long as my spiritual energy nourishes your Furnace Seal, it will ease. Just now, when I channeled spiritual energy for you, I also suppressed the Furnace Seal. This Horizon and Edge talisman was drawn by me personally. Even if separated by thousands of miles, it can transmit sound. If the Furnace Seal flares up again, use your soul to activate the talisman and contact me.”
An Wuxue remained silent.
The Horizon and Edge talisman required soul activation; once used, it would expose his soul aura—he could never use it.
He took the talisman, casually tossing it into his spiritual pouch. Before he could say anything, Xie Zhefeng had vanished.
The Chunhua, originally placed by the wall, was gone too—Xie Zhefeng had not only taken the altered talisman papers but also Chunhua.
Only one female disciple remained and stepped forward without subservience or arrogance: “Please come with me; I will arrange your lodging.”
An Wuxue, still thinking about Chunhua, was somewhat distracted and gave no reply.
Seeing blood at his mouth, the disciple thought he was unwell and stepped forward to support him.
He waved her off, murmuring, “No, no need. Please lead the way.”
Absent-mindedly, he followed the disciple outside, his mind replaying the earlier scene.
Xie Zhefeng’s demeanor was completely different from the solemn and dignified figure he had displayed before many cultivators at the mountain gate a few days ago.
And Chunhua...
Xie Zhefeng had not destroyed Chunhua but had kept his true sword sealed.
This man sealed Chunhua, nurtured Kun Kun, and just now took away the talisman papers he clearly drew himself, sending someone to the Cloud Sword Sect to investigate their origin...
It was all connected to him.
Could it be that Xie Zhefeng truly knew he might not be dead and was trying to eradicate every trace?
Since awakening, he had lived as if the past had never existed, simply surviving as “Su Xue,” and had never sought to understand anything related to himself.
But if something concerning him had happened over the past thousand years...
He still needed to ask.
At this moment, the disciple leading him passed by the pine and cypress trees he had planted by the Frost Sea.
When Xie Zhefeng’s cave dwelling was set above the Frost Sea, he planted a young pine here and said to his junior brother, “The Frost Sea is always covered in drifting snow, making it hard to observe the passage of time. If you forget how long you have lived here, come and see its age.”
Xie Zhefeng said, “I can’t tell the age of spiritual trees.”
“I will. I’ll help you see.”
“…”
Now, he paused and looked up to see the tall pine standing proudly.
The bright moon hung above the treetops, draped in the color of frost and snow.
The disciple leading him glanced back: “Why stop?”
This disciple, directly under Xie Zhefeng’s command, surely knew many things.
He considered for a moment, then timidly said, “Senior Sister, the Immortal Lord governs both realms, and this is his dwelling. I’m new here and afraid of breaking taboos. May I ask if there are things I must not do or people I must not mention?”