INE Chapter 92: The Exchange

Several more years passed. The Demon Sect finally unraveled the seal on the ancient divine sword. With his power greatly enhanced, the Demon Lord led his cultivators in a campaign against minor sects and clans.

They burned, looted, and slaughtered, committing every imaginable crime.

Meanwhile, numerous top-ranked cultivators from the Cultivation Ranking had come to challenge the leader of the Wanjian Sect, only to be defeated in a single strike. Shamed by their inferiority, they could only concede.

For a time, the name "Sword Saint Yue Qianqiu" became known far and wide, to young and old alike.

At the great formation in front of Bixue Peak's gates, a crowd of talented young cultivators had gathered. Kneeling on the ground, they made impassioned pleas.

"Please, Sword Saint, descend the mountain and rid the world of evil!"

Yue Qianqiu found herself with a headache.

First of all, she didn’t recall this plotline existing in the original story. Secondly, demonic cultivators had long been driven into the barren wilderness by the righteous sects. The West Mountain was sparse in spiritual energy and completely desolate, surviving there at all was already a miracle.

Now that the Demon Sect had unsealed the Chixiao Sword, how could they not take the chance to reclaim some territory from the righteous path? How could they retreat without asserting themselves?

Besides, she had visited some of the sects attacked by the Demon Sect. Despite how the righteous cultivators described them as brutal monsters, the demonic cultivators hadn’t slaughtered women, children, or the elderly upon entering.

As for the righteous cultivators, the demons would first try to recruit them. Only when they were insulted or rejected would they raise their weapons.

Given that, the Demon Sect couldn’t truly be called indiscriminate killers. Which made it all the more impossible for Yue Qianqiu to stand firmly on the side of the so-called "righteous" and interfere.

As long as Yue Qianqiu refused to act, the crowd outside Wanjian Sect’s gates refused to leave.

The young disciples, hot-blooded and self-righteous, eventually began to hurl insults at her.

“Yue Qianqiu! You have all this power, yet you sit idly by! You watch as the Demon Sect slaughters the righteous, and you still dare call yourself the Sword Saint? You're unworthy of topping the Wind and Cloud List!”

“Tch, she’s clearly afraid. Afraid she can’t beat the Demon Lord, so she hides like a coward, too scared to even step out of her sect!”

Yue Qianqiu didn’t care. She still practiced her sword daily, and still slept soundly every night.

But her disciples couldn’t bear it. They wanted to drive those people away, but feared sullying their master’s name. Yet if they didn’t, they felt the urge to strike them down.

To them, Yue Qianqiu said:

“You must remember, this world is not always black and white. Righteousness is not always right. And the demonic path is not always wrong.”

“Even demonic cultivators have their sects, their homes. Think about it, their lands are so barren that even weeds won’t grow. They can’t even raise the next generation properly.”

“If you were in their place, wouldn’t you want your homeland to be filled with trees, flowers, endless rice to eat, and boundless spiritual energy to cultivate? Wouldn’t you want your brothers and sisters in the sect to be warm, well-fed, and happy every day?”

The disciples understood. But they also had their master to protect.

Yue Qianqiu could endure the world’s slander. But her disciples could not bear to hear anyone insult their master.

That very night, they left Bixue Peak. On behalf of the Wanjian Sect, and on behalf of their master, they went far and wide to slay evil and suppress demons.

And just like that, the crowd at the gates finally dispersed. But so did Yue Qianqiu’s disciples.

The next morning, she sat beneath the bodhi tree, watching the sun rise and set over Bixue Peak, watching clouds roll and fade.

As she stared into the distance, she wondered: Did I do something wrong?

A moment later, Yue Qianqiu rose, brushed a fallen leaf from her hair, and struck the massive boulder beside her with a sword slash.

“I did nothing wrong,” she said softly.

“I followed my heart. I did nothing wrong.”

A month later, her disciples returned.

But two of them were missing.

Yue Qianqiu looked at Mei He and Chu Changli and asked, “Where are Ayu and Shuang’er?”

The two remained silent.

Gong Yu and Bai Yushuang had weaker cultivation, so the righteous alliance leaders had sent them to smaller sects, separating them from Chu Changli and Mei He.

No one expected them to cross paths with the Demon Lord himself, wielding the Chixiao Sword.

They were outmatched and captured by the Demon Sect.

Upon learning they were disciples of Wanjian Sect, and having long heard of the Sword Saint’s name, the Demon Lord laughed loudly and sent a message to Yue Qianqiu:

“Within three days, the Sword Saint must come alone to the Demon Sect. Otherwise, I’ll sever one of their fingers each day.”

Yue Qianqiu thought of those two who always followed behind her.

Bai Yushuang used to tug at her sleeve as a child, asking endless strange questions.

She remembered Gong Yu, with her ink-black hair and snow-white robes, holding a paper crane and smiling so gently.

When Yue Qianqiu arrived at the Demon Sect, all she saw was yellow sand stretching to the horizon.

There were only mountains, no rivers. Waves of heat rolled over the earth, steaming with the scent of blood and soil.

She suddenly recalled the rooftop of Chonghua Tower, where Gu Baiyi had once spoken to her of the great desert, camel bells, merchant caravans, and endless wastelands.

Gu Baiyi had been right, this place was indeed lonely and desolate.

The Demon Lord sat cross-legged on a high perch, Chixiao Sword in hand, and said:

“Sword Saint, I know you’re a peak-level cultivator of peerless strength. You could kill me without lifting a finger.”

“But you don’t know where your disciples are. If you kill me now, my subordinates will learn of it and kill them in turn.”

Yue Qianqiu replied calmly, “Demon Lord, if you want something, don’t beat around the bush. Just say it.”

“If you want your disciples back, put on the Binding Immortal Shackles and trade yourself for them.”

“You’ll keep your word?”

“I will.”

Yue Qianqiu laid down her Qingshuang Sword, donned the Binding Immortal Shackles, and exchanged herself for Gong Yu and Bai Yushuang.

The Demon Lord brought Yue Qianqiu to a dungeon and told her a very old legend.

Back when true immortals still walked the world, there were two: one named Sanhua, and the other, Minghua.

Sanhua loved the world’s rivers and mountains. She pierced her fingertip and dripped her blood onto the land. Wherever her blood fell, that land flourished with spiritual energy, nurturing generations of cultivators.

The Demon Lord told Yue Qianqiu that a thousand years ago, one of his ancestors had seen a true immortal.

That day, the winds and clouds of heaven and earth shifted.

Whether righteous sects or demonic cultivators, all gathered outside the cave dwelling to strike down Immortal Sanhua. Half came to rid the world of a mad fallen immortal, and the other half sought the five divine swords, and the blood of a true immortal.

But when his ancestor returned, he instead painted a portrait of Immortal Sanhua. Then he laughed madly, placed the Chixiao Sword atop West Mountain, and left the Demon Sect in a state of madness and delirium.

Yue Qianqiu thought for a moment, then asked, “I remember that book mentioned how Immortal Minghua entrusted the five swords to the people.”

The Demon Lord chuckled. “Sword Saint, you of all people should know what the so-called people of this world are truly like. If they wanted to seize the swords under the guise of righteousness, of course they would fabricate a tale and pin it on Immortal Minghua.”

“Sword Saint, you resemble Immortal Sanhua far too much. Even if it’s just a five-part resemblance, I still want to see, if your blood is spilled upon the soil of my Demon Sect, will it bear miraculous results?”

A sharp instrument pierced Yue Qianqiu’s skin. She looked down at the tubes stuck all over her body. It was almost laughable, like undergoing surgery.

After the laugh came the pain, the agony of her blood being drawn out. She had always had a fear of blood. Coupled with the loss of spiritual power, she fainted again and again.

In that haze of chaos, a stray thought crossed her mind: this body belonged to her elder sister. If her sister was truly an Immortal, didn’t that mean she had a goddess for a sister?

But if her sister only bore a five-part resemblance to Sanhua, then what did Sanhua truly look like?

Sanhua… if it wasn’t Heaven’s divine punishment that killed her, then what did?

The blood, carried through thin, long tubes, irrigated the soil of the Demon Sect.

Barren ground grew rich and fertile. Trees began to flourish.

The yellow sands of the great desert settled, and a green shoot broke through the earth.

A fragrant scent spread, signs of new life.

The Demon Lord watched as the once-desolate West Mountain, home to generations of his people, became vibrant and bountiful. Tears of joy nearly spilled from his eyes.

Heaven blesses the Demon Sect. Heaven grants the Demon Sect its favor.

A true immortal, the kind who once protected the people, had finally descended upon this wild land.

The Demon Lord was careful in how he drew blood, extracting only half each day to keep Yue Qianqiu alive.

When she fainted from exhaustion, he would have demonic cultivators arrange a formation to infuse her with spiritual energy.

But it had only been a few days when Yue Qianqiu’s disciples stormed West Mountain.

Chu Changli had realized Yue Qianqiu was missing. She had wanted to rescue her from the mountain but was stopped by Mei He.

Then she tried to rally the righteous sects for an assault on the Demon Sect, but again, Mei He refused.

Chu Changli’s voice was cold. “So what does Senior Sister Mei propose? Are you just going to watch our master die?”

Mei He replied, “Changli, think carefully. How did the Demon Lord know where Ayu and Shuang’er were? Apart from the righteous sects, who else knew the details of our formations?”

“You mean…”

Mei He spoke softly, “The one who betrayed Ayu and Shuang’er to the Demon Lord… is among our own.”

Yue Qianqiu’s refusal to descend the mountain had already stirred discontent within the righteous path. A Sword Saint unmatched beneath the heavens, yet when the battle between good and evil erupted, she remained neutral.

So powerful, and so cold.

Who could guarantee that she wouldn’t one day side with the demonic?

Eliminating her quickly was the safest course.

Chu Changli asked, “Then what do we do?”

Mei He replied, “We can only trade something else with the Demon Sect… in exchange for our master.”

She meant the young girl Chu Changli had captured during the last battle.

The child had pitch-black eyes and the scent of phoenix blossoms clinging to her. She claimed her name was Changqing, and that she was the Demon Lord’s daughter.

Before returning to the Wanjian Sect, Chu Changli had taken the girl to a lantern market and even bought her candied hawthorn. Since then, Changqing had been quite fond of Chu Changli.

“I don’t want to go back to the Demon Sect,” she had said. “Father doesn’t like me. I want to stay and play with Big Sister.”

Chu Changli had gently stroked her hair and smiled. “Child, but I don’t like you.”

Changqing tilted her head. “Then if I become someone Big Sister likes, will you like me?”

Chu Changli shook her head. “Even if it’s the same shell… it still wouldn’t be her.”

Mei He struck a deal with the Demon Lord. In two days, the exchange would take place atop West Mountain.

In truth, the Demon Lord felt the blood he’d collected was already enough. So trading away a half-crippled Sword Saint for a daughter he didn’t much care for seemed fair.

The dungeon door creaked open.

Chu Changli stood at the threshold, staring into the dim light for a long time, but didn’t step inside.

She knew her master was looking at her too. That was why she couldn’t move.

Eventually, she walked in, drew her sword, and cut the blood-soaked Binding Immortal Chains.

Yue Qianqiu looked at Chu Changli and smiled. “Changli, you’ve come.”

But moments later, she frowned. Chu Changli’s tears had fallen onto her face, warm, even scalding.

“Master doesn’t feel pain.”

“Changli, I’m not in pain. Don’t cry.”

Yue Qianqiu raised her hand to wipe Chu Changli’s tears. But when she saw how pale and thin her hand had become, saw the dried blood staining her fingers, she hesitated. Then slowly drew her hand back.

She said, “Changli… Master is so dirty. I just want to go home.”

“Gu Baiyi, I want to go home. Let’s go home, quickly.”

“No crying. Gu Baiyi mustn’t cry. And neither must Chu Changli.”

Chu Changli didn’t know who Gu Baiyi was. But she took off her robe, wrapped Yue Qianqiu in it, and carried her out of the dungeon, one step at a time.