If he couldn’t take them in his arms, he would carry them on his back. If he couldn’t use his back, then his shoulder. He wanted each of them to stay close—leaning against him—just like when they were children.
Cannon Typical Violence, Graphic Death and Injury, Minor Character Deaths
Rain fell down.
Jiang Linzhai was looking for his sword, his waist belt empty, while fumbling around, he suddenly heard the sound of Si-Di’s scream. That sound was blurred with the sound of rain, sounding so small and far away that he almost could not hear it. He listened all around until he realised that the sound was coming from his own arms.
“Shifu.” Si-Di’s lips opened and closed as if he were begging for mercy, “Save me, I don’t want to be a great hero. Shifu, I’m really scared…”
Jiang Linzhai said, “Don’t make noise.”
Si-Di really did fall silent. He used to be the most obedient. Now, he was clinging to his Shifu's chest, silent.
Jiang Linzhai said, "Fine, speak. Say whatever you want."
But Si-Di said nothing. He remained still, curled up in Jiang Linzhai's arms, light as paper. Jiang Linzhai stroked his head, but he stayed silent. Finally, Jiang Linzhai remembered.
As soon as they entered the city, they alerted the river god. The river god caused trouble in the temple and scattered them. Si-Di followed orders to protect the townspeople, but none of them knew that the townspeople had already become puppets of the river god. So, as soon as Si-Di entered the crowd, he was torn apart.
When Jiang Linzhai arrived, there was only half of Si-Di left. Those rouge and powders fell to the ground and were washed into the gutters by the rain. He was stuck at the corner of a gutter, still waiting for his Shifu.
—His Shifu was a biased ghost. Now it had paid off, and his Shifu was the first to come looking for him. But he was so useless. He cried out in pain and fear in his Shifu's arms, saying he was scared, so scared. He was a coward, never wanting to play the hero again.
Jiang Linzhai wasn't sad, not at all. He picked up Si-Di and continued to search for his sword. But where did the Wuyou Sword fall? He couldn't quite remember.
Dīdā.
Raindrops fell into the pool of blood again, shattering the reflection. Jiang Linzhai looked down at his feet and found Er-Shixiong in the fragmented reflection.
Er-Shixiong was hanging on his sword, his body half bent like a fluttering flag. Rain fell on his upturned face. He had delicate eyebrows and phoenix eyes and was a very handsome young man.
Jiang Linzhai used to find him the most annoying because, as a child, he was a frail, sickly boy, always coughing. But he had an excellent temperament and never got angry, even when Jiang Linzhai dragged him outside. He would always hold his younger siblings' hands, saying, "Alright, alright." After they were scattered, he went to find his Shidi and Shimei.
Jiang Linzhai took the second senior brother down. The second senior brother slid down along his arm.
"Alright."
Jiang Linzhai said, "Now you're really like dough, even your bones are broken."
He walked along the street to the end, where he saw Lao'San and Wu-Mei lying together. Neither of them was whole. The sword pinned them in a double line, impaled in both their chests. Jiang Linzhai tried to pull it out, but the hilt was too slippery with blood and water.
Kuāngdāng.
Jiang Linzhai threw the sword he had pulled out and continued forward. He finally returned to the temple and found his own sword. It turned out that when the river god caused trouble, he had come alone and killed the river god long ago. The sword had fallen then. Now that he had found his sword, everything was over. He could leave.
But the rain kept pouring endlessly. Jiang Linzhai looked up at the sky, not knowing what he was waiting for. He felt somewhat happy. From now on, he wouldn't have to pretend to be Shifu, dragging these burdens around. He wouldn't have to worry day and night. From now on, the mountains would be mountains, the sea would be the sea, and he would just be himself, no longer their Shifu, Shifu, Shifu—
Someone was crying.
Jiang Linzhai's ears were ringing. He looked around but couldn't find anyone else. Blood was flowing down his face from the wounds sustained in the battle with the river god, which were still hurting.
It hurts so fucking much, ah.
Jiang Linzhai’s robe was dirty. He let the rainwater flow down his neck since he couldn’t spare a hand to wipe it—his arms were full of his disciples. If he couldn’t take them in his arms, he would carry them on his back. If he couldn’t use his back, then his shoulder. He wanted each of them to stay close—leaning against him—just like when they were children.
Shifu.
Jiang Linzhai closed his eyes—his ears were full of shouts:
Shifu, Shifu, Shifu—
The Wuyou Sword suddenly began to hum and vibrate. The rain poured down in torrents, and the incense burner in front of the temple let out spirals of smoke. Jiang Linzhai, covered in blood, began searching for his sword again, retracing his previous steps. He had forgotten where the sword had fallen, and it seemed as if by finding the sword, he could find his disciples. After his tenth time searching, someone finally arrived.
The newcomer, dressed in a blue robe and holding a brush, asked from a distance at the street corner, "May I ask, are you Jiang Langjun of the Posuo Sect? I am Lin Changming of the Kuwu Clan, here at the invitation of the Ming family to assist you in sealing the heavens..."
Halfway through his sentence, he saw Jiang Linzhai's appearance and couldn't help but change his expression, "This small city is filled with immense resentment. Is it your doing?"
Jiang Linzhai saw the river god again; the persistent spirit was chanting incantations at him. He summoned the Wuyou Sword and began with a "Pull to the Forefront" move.
Lin Changming did not expect the other party to attack immediately. The Thousand Gold Brush clashed with the Wuyou Sword several times with a resounding "qiāng," and he said while resisting the sword's momentum, "Friend, you have been bewitched by the fallen god of this place. Wake up!"
Jiang Linzhai still heard the shouting in his ears; Si-Di was calling him, "Shifu, Shifu!" It seemed as if he had gone mad. His moon-white robe turned crimson, and he drove Lin Changming from the street into a miscellaneous goods stall. Lin Changming was struggling to defend himself. Seeing the sword edge about to pierce his chest, he hurriedly grabbed a talisman.
It was just an ordinary spirit-borrowing talisman, commonly used by the Kuwu Clan to exchange strength and weakness when in close combat and overpowered. The talisman could "borrow" some spiritual energy from the enemy. However, perhaps Jiang Linzhai's cultivation was too high, or perhaps Lin Changming recited the incantation incorrectly. In any case, when the talisman took effect—
Everything changed.
The Author Has Something to Say
It's almost ten and I still haven't revealed the secret (knocking the keys as swiftly as a turtle).
Thanks for reading!