The name of Canzhe resounded once again throughout the cultivation world.
During the chaotic battle against the Ghost Clan, almost everyone had heard about the events that unfolded: the one who pretended to be a demonic cultivator, Canzhe, was actually from the demon clan. One day, her demon nature erupted, opening a pathway between the cultivation world and the ghost realm, and she managed to escape during the encirclement by numerous cultivators.
Although all the major sects issued bounty notices for Canzhe, the threat posed by the Ghost Clan had not been eliminated, and in a short time, they couldn’t spare enough manpower to search for the elusive Canzhe. The ambush that ended in a disastrous defeat became a hot topic among people, and Canzhe’s power and terror were deeply imprinted in the hearts of the cultivators, giving rise to countless strange rumors. Some said that the face beneath that white jade mask was ugly like a demon, while others claimed that Canzhe was actually a man, and there were even those who swore they had seen flames burning in her eyes.
The next day, Yun Duan arrived at Biluohuangquan.
She hadn’t slept a wink. After retrieving Fei Wang, she flew over on her sword without stopping. Upon reaching the entrance of Biluohuangquan, she had just landed when a Night Crow flew out from the entrance. The crow paused for a moment when it saw her, then suddenly exclaimed with joy, “Yun Zhongjun! It’s Yun Zhongjun who has come!”
Once she realized the reason for the Night Crow’s delight at seeing her, Yun Duan’s heart sank. The crow hurriedly flew over and urgently asked, “Yun Zhongjun, do you know where Lord Canzhe has gone?”
Originally, she had thought that Shang Can might return to Biluohuangquan after her transformation, but Yun Duan couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Lowering her head to avoid being noticed, she shook her head and replied, “…I don’t know.”
The Night Crow’s disappointment and agitation were even more evident than hers, its wings fluttering irregularly as it nearly fell to the ground but still managed to force a disheartened greeting. “…It’s alright. I’ll go find her right away. Don’t worry too much, Yun Zhongjun—having come such a long way, you should rest first. Follow me.”
“But… things might be a bit chaotic in Biluohuangquan now,” the Night Crow said, appearing dejected. It forced itself to be cheerful and said, “Don’t mind it too much. Just go meet Lord Yaoshang.”
Yun Duan nodded and followed it into Biluohuangquan, heading towards the Yaoshang Hall. The journey wasn’t very long, but it was easy to tell what the Night Crow meant by “chaotic.” The last time she had visited Biluohuangquan, although it was night, the city had a lively atmosphere rivaling that of Yanyang. But now, despite the street decorations remaining largely unchanged, Yun Duan could feel the atmosphere was vastly different; the demon clansmen on the streets had lost their smiles, and the entire Biluohuangquan seemed to exude a heavy tension.
She remained silent, quietly following the Night Crow. The Night Crow stopped in front of the Yaoshang Hall, bowed to her, and took its leave. Yun Duan scanned the guards around the hall; there had been only two the last time she came, but now there were eight, each looking solemn, casting inquiring glances at her, yet they ultimately did not stop her.
Wanshao was sitting in the only seat within the Yaoshang Hall, and the vast hall felt empty with just her presence. When Yun Duan entered, she was in a fit of anger, seemingly mistaking Yun Duan for someone else. Without looking, she slammed the inkstone to the ground and shouted, “If you dare to say another word, I will—”
Only halfway through her words did she realize the visitor was Yun Duan. Her face lit up with joy, and she stood up, but soon froze, her expression softening, a hint of guilt appearing in her exquisite brows and eyes.
“I didn’t notice… I thought it was those elders leaving again. I’m sorry.”
Wanshao spoke in a low voice, lowering her head. After a pause, she buried her head even lower, saying, “…I couldn’t keep track of Shang Can, and I still don’t know where she has gone. I’m sorry.”
Yun Duan felt a pang of bitterness at her words, shaking her head heavily, signaling Wan Shao to lift her head. There seemed to be a mist swirling in her dark eyes as she gently said, “You didn’t do anything wrong, and there’s no need to apologize to me.”
“If anyone should apologize, it should be me to you,” Yun Duan said, lowering her head slightly. “That day, when the incident occurred so suddenly, I left you alone in Yun City…”
Before she could finish her sentence, Wan Shao interrupted her with a wave of her hand. After a brief pause, the flower demon gritted her teeth and lowered her voice, saying, “…To think she was planning to drug us… she really is something.”
“No one needs to apologize! We’ll make that guilty one repeat a hundred times ‘I’m sorry’ once we catch her!”
Wan Shao was furious when she brought up Shang Can. With the recent upheaval, even she, as the demon lord of Biluohuangquan, had been restless. Now that she finally saw Yun Duan, she complained pitifully, “You don’t know what that heartless one has done—she even left a note saying she wants to sever ties with Biluohuangquan!”
More precisely, she had already severed ties with Biluohuangquan.
Yun Duan was aware of this matter. This rumor regarding Canzhe was quite notorious. Long before Canzhe had broken the seal on the ghost realm, whispers had circulated in the cultivation world that she had distanced herself from Biluohuangquan, claiming that she was willful and unruly, thus parting ways with them. At that time, Biluohuangquan had not released any information, and people gradually began to believe it. Soon after, the Ghost Clan launched their attack.
“I couldn’t respond back then! I was still asleep!” Wan Shao exclaimed angrily. “The amount of drug she gave me was really… rather than saying she added medicine to my food, I’d say she put food in the medicine! I really don’t understand what she was trying to do, nor when she started plotting this… what on earth—”
Wan Shao was so furious with Shang Can that she turned red, stumbling even in her insults. But upon seeing Yun Duan’s deepening expression, she hesitated and asked, “…Did you just say she left you a note?”
Wan Shao paused, sensing something off in Yun Duan’s expression, and instinctively felt regret. But having already spoken, she had to brace herself and reply, “…She left a few words.”
As she spoke, she picked up two thin sheets of paper from the desk and walked over to hand them to Yun Duan, sighing, “But they’re no different from not being written at all—just useless words.”
This additional information felt somewhat hollow to Yun Duan. She silently accepted the paper and, upon seeing Shang Can’s familiar elegant handwriting, couldn’t help but choke up.
The letter indeed contained nothing of value; it was just a few hurried lines. The first sheet only vaguely stated that due to ideological differences, she was leaving Biluohuangquan, and coldly concluded with: “My mind is made up; I have released the news. No need to search for me.”
Looking at the second sheet, she found it contained considerably more words. Yun Duan focused and discovered it was an inventory of Canzhe’s assets. Shang Can had meticulously listed everything she owned over the years—how much money, how many heavenly materials and earthly treasures, and where they were stored. It filled an entire sheet, ending with a casual remark: “Help yourself; no need to be concerned.”
Yun Duan flipped through the sheets several times, recognizing Shang Can’s flowing and neat script, which revealed no hint of hesitation or additional comments.
Carefully watching Yun Duan’s expression, Wan Shao tentatively spoke to comfort her, “You see, it’s all nonsense. It’s just infuriating but serves no purpose.”
“…” Yun Duan pressed her lips tightly together, her voice low, “But at least she thought to leave you a note.”
At this point, Wan Shao quickly realized—this person before her seemed to have received nothing from Shang Can.
She couldn’t articulate the mix of emotions swirling in her heart. When she had seen this letter, she had been furious, and if not for the elders’ combined force preventing her from leaving, she would have been out searching the cultivation world for Shang Can to settle the score. She wanted to confront Shang Can and ask, “What does leaving this letter mean? Who are you trying to irritate?”
Despite being extremely angry with Shang Can, Wan Shao instinctively shook her head, saying, “Shang Can couldn’t have overlooked you.”
Only after she said this did Wan Shao realize her words. She saw Yun Duan’s eyes light up again, which had previously been so desolate. She bit her lip in frustration, inwardly cursing Shang Can.
How infuriating, even at a time like this, that she was still thinking of defending Shang Can.
“…At this point, I think there’s no need to cover for her any longer.”
Wan Shao didn’t know if she was angry at Shang Can or at herself. She crossed her arms, vengefully revealing Shang Can’s secrets: “I can responsibly say that you are the most important person in her heart. Even if the king himself came, it would be a fact.”
With that, Wan Shao let loose everything she had bottled up over the past few days: “You know what she’s like—she’s stubborn. Once she sets her mind on something, no force can change it. What’s even more annoying is that she loves to take matters into her own hands, keeping many things to herself without saying a word.”
“When I brought her back, she was so severely injured that she seemed like she might die at any moment. A large area on her back was charred and rotten; it had to be cut out. Her throat was damaged, and she was in so much pain that she couldn’t even scream. She barely survived, and when I asked her how she was so severely injured, she refused to say a word, then stubbornly claimed the title of Canzhe of Biluohuangquan, helping me quell the rebellion of the demon clan—up to this day, I still don’t know what happened back then and what she went through.”
“But she couldn’t hide her physical condition from me. Previously, she wouldn’t allow me to tell you,” Wan Shao paused, taking a deep breath, “Her health is really terrible, and she relies on medicine almost every day. The injury she suffered back then was beyond healing. With my medical skills, I couldn’t cure it; her surviving these ten years is already a blessing from heaven—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Yun Duan’s breathing became erratic, and she interrupted, “Is that why you want to find the Dao Heart Lotus Seed? Can it save Shang Can’s life?”
“…” Wan Shao paused, finally whispering, “Perhaps.”
She shook her head and began to explain her vague words: “Once, when Shang Can and I went out, she obtained a prescription, claiming it was a trophy taken from a thief. That medicine requires Dao Heart Lotus Seed as an ingredient, and the resulting medicine might save her life…”
Wan Shao suddenly halted, as if lost in thought for a moment. After a long pause, she slowly continued, “…But I never got the chance to make the medicine for her to try, and I don’t know where the Dao Heart Lotus Seed is now—I did see her taking some medicinal materials, so perhaps she has already prepared the medicine herself.”
Seeing her words slightly soften Yun Duan’s expression, Wan Shao decided to steer the topic back, lowering her gaze and softly saying, “I’m telling you this just to say—”
“Shang Can is really annoying; she keeps everything bottled up inside, and the little she shows is only about one-tenth or one-twelfth of what she feels, yet she insists on expressing herself in the most distancing way possible.” Wan Shao’s voice trembled slightly as she looked at the letter in Yun Duan’s hands. “Everyone says she’s ungrateful and abandoned the Bluelight Abyss, but don’t I know her? She must have planned to create a scene long ago, which is why she cut ties with the Bluelight Abyss so early on.”
Wan Shao’s throat felt choked, a mix of resentment and bitterness swelling inside her. “No matter how much I dislike her behavior, I can’t deny that her actions were effective. Although a few cultivators have come to cause trouble for us, most sects see the breaking of the barrier as Shang Can’s personal act and have no intention of holding the Bluelight Abyss accountable.”
Her chest rose and fell violently, and it took a while for her to calm down, looking directly at Yun Duan.
“At this point, perhaps you haven’t discovered what Shang Can left for you, or maybe she has her own reasons she can’t speak about… but regardless,” Wan Shao’s gaze softened, and she spoke gently, “Yun Zhong Jun, you are the one she values the most. I can guarantee you this is not an empty promise.”
Leaving the Bluelight Abyss, Yun Duan found herself standing on a desolate mountain, feeling suddenly lost.
She had intended to find Pei Chen to get some clarity, but the Heavenly Realm’s leader was preoccupied with leading the cultivators to fend off the ghost clan, running around and appearing unpredictably, making it difficult for Yun Duan to track him down—she couldn’t even tell if he was deliberately avoiding her.
The tension within her released all at once. Not wanting to linger, she took to the skies on her sword without any particular direction. The breeze brushed past her, easing some of her agitation. What she had heard from Wan Shao still felt unreal. If she were truly the person Shang Can valued the most, then why wouldn’t Shang Can say a word to her?
Lost in thought, she was jolted back to reality by the familiar noise of the bustling town, realizing she had unknowingly returned to Cloud City. She stood blankly at the city gate for a while, and since she had nowhere else to go, she decided to walk inside.
The last time she returned, she was accompanied by two others, but now she was all alone. The solitary figure of Yun Duan was quickly noticed by the townsfolk, who had heard many rumors over the past few days. They approached her with concern, and she politely responded to each one.
“Hey, this time the little deity isn’t back with you?” Aunt Wang called out loudly, her voice filled with worry. “I haven’t seen her since she left last time… How’s her eye? She said she would come back and have dinner at my house.”
Yun Duan paused, taking a deep breath and shaking her head weakly before hurriedly retreating home, closing the gate behind her.
She suddenly realized she might have chosen the wrong place; Cloud City was no longer an ordinary little town, and even her home was no longer truly hers. Too many remnants of Shang Can lingered here, and just standing in the courtyard, the memories of their shared life surged like a tide, forcing a painful bitterness into her throat.
Almost unconsciously, Yun Duan pushed open Shang Can’s door.
The room remained just as it had been when its owner left—neat and tidy, the bedding folded carefully, as if trying to erase all traces of a person having lived there. Only the faint scent of a bitter medicine hung in the air, still holding a trace of Shang Can’s presence.
Yun Duan instinctively closed the door tightly, fearing that even this faint trace would fade away. Leaning against the door, she felt a mocking bitterness toward her own actions—what could this possibly achieve? No matter how much she wanted to hold on, in the end, it was still impossible.
Suddenly wounded by her own thoughts, she lowered her gaze, but her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something white in the shadow beneath the bed.
Yun Duan paused for a moment, walked over, and pulled it out, sitting down on Shang Can’s bed.
It was either a deliberate act by the person when they left, or perhaps the wind from when she had entered that day had knocked it loose—regardless, it was a piece of stationery.
But it was not a letter. The paper was blank, with only four simple characters written at the top.
ã€Yun Duan Shimei】
Aside from that, there was nothing else. No content, as if the writer had merely put pen to paper casually and then set it aside.
The elegant handwriting was unmistakably Shang Can’s. After years of knowing her, Yun Duan was thoroughly familiar with her writing style. Despite the brevity of the four characters, she could tell that Shang Can’s writing was not fluid like the letter she had left for Wan Shao; instead, it was hesitant, with pauses between strokes, and several inky smudges left unconsciously behind.
The characters “Shimei” were likely added later, indicating that Shang Can’s emotions were not stable; the letters trembled slightly, and the last stroke was drawn out, creating a thin line of ink.
No one could ever know what Shang Can wanted to tell her or why she had stopped writing. Just the thought of Shang Can having sat at the table before leaving, laying out the stationery, hesitating to write, filled Yun Duan with a sharp pain, making her breath difficult. Her hands trembled, nearly crumpling the edge of the paper, and she quickly loosened her grip, watching the paper drift back onto Shang Can’s bed, unable to hold back the bitterness rising in her throat.
Tears streamed down her face; those tears, hotter than the setting sun, seemed endless. She covered her face with her sleeve, crying silently.
All the unfinished words of Shang Can were hidden within those moments, filled with unspoken thoughts, never to be known again.
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