Chapter Fifty-Eight: Everything Changes Because of the Passing Clouds

The moon outside the window appears as usual, but with the blooming plum blossoms, it feels entirely different.
This speaks of the state of mind—Ye Liuyun deeply sensed that this time, Shen Lian was even more refined than when they first met, as if something marvelous had changed within him.
“Both are equally excellent. Brother Shen, I am truly impressed by your literary talent.”
Shen Lian entered, calm and composed. He glanced at the two and remarked casually, “Brother Ye, you are mistaken. Neither the previous poem nor this one is my own composition. I merely happened upon them and recited them.”
Ye Liuyun’s heart tightened. He, too, was a prodigy; the library of Sword Manor was at least as extensive as the Shen family’s. Yet he had never encountered such exquisite lines. If one poem was unknown to him, he could find an excuse, but two lines worthy of immortality, both not originating from Shen Lian, nor ones he had previously read, made the matter intriguing.
Moreover, his learned father had never seen lines such as ‘in the snowy woods, I find my form.’
Though the Shen family was wealthy, to Sword Manor, they were nothing more than rustic tycoons.
Any texts the Shen family could find, Sword Manor surely possessed, and what the Shen family lacked, Sword Manor had in abundance.
If Shen Lian had not composed these himself, then whence did they come?
It was much like how Shen Lian mastered the ‘Godslayer Sword’ without succumbing to excess or evil, which was perplexing.
Xiao Zhu, standing nearby, suddenly felt that Ye Liuyun and Shen Lian were indeed alike, both harboring complex thoughts beyond others’ reach. Yet, they were also different in ways she could not quite articulate.
“Fate brings people together and separates them again; life’s chance encounters are rare and precious. I have never suffered much in life, but the setback I experienced from Brother Shen has lingered in my mind, so I arranged for us to meet again in the warmth of spring.” Even as Ye Liuyun spoke of his own defeat, he remained poised and gracious, winning admiration.
Yet, such things did not sway Xiao Zhu.
She softly said, “Since you agreed to meet in spring’s warmth, you’re early. A true man’s word is worth its weight in gold. Why not wait two more days? For now, let’s each go home, wash up, and sleep. Wouldn’t that be better?”
After speaking, her beautiful eyes narrowed playfully.
Xiao Zhu’s suggestion was absurd, yet reasonable. Clearly, she only wanted to see the two men flustered—her true feelings.
“At the level Brother Ye and I have reached, when others feel cold, we already feel warmth. As for flowers blooming in the heart, whenever we wish to meet, does time or place matter? If the mood strikes, even were it your wedding night, Xiao Zhu, I might come to listen at the wall.” To speak of such shameless acts so matter-of-factly—Shen Lian’s thick skin was truly unmatched.
Xiao Zhu’s cheeks flushed red; she rolled her eyes and said, “What’s the point in only listening? Why not all three of us together? I wouldn’t mind, really.”
She shot Shen Lian a glance, her charm exquisite and irresistible.
Shen Lian, having mingled online in his previous life and seen the sharp wit of fangirls, would not be thrown off. He smiled slightly and said, “Master Ku Hui, is that why you came to listen at the wall?”
“Amitabha, young Shen, you jest. This humble monk has severed worldly desires—such blessings are beyond me.”

Ye Liuyun laughed aloud. “Sleepless in the deep night, the moon is just right. This room is small; why don’t we go outside to talk?”
Shen Lian nodded. Xiao Zhu knew the main event was about to begin—a true battle between Ye Liuyun and Shen Lian.
Shen Lian and Ye Liuyun moved at the same moment.
One ahead, one behind, they left the room.
Their figures flashed past like meteors, almost too quick for Xiao Zhu to follow.
In the moonlight, she could only see faint traces where the wheels pressed the soft earth, marking their path.
Xiao Zhu grumbled, “Ye Liuyun, you wretch, how are you so fast in a wheelchair?”
Someone landed nearby without a sound, drifting like a cloud, and sighed, “Miss Xiao, I must say—you couldn’t catch up with him even though his legs are crippled. Who knows what hardships he’s endured. A man like this, willing to marry you, is truly blessed.”
The last words went unspoken, but Xiao Zhu was not foolish—she understood that Ku Hui meant ‘it is your blessing.’
Xiao Zhu was stunned. She had always been spoiled by everyone in Guiyun Manor, dreaming only of marrying a true hero, perfect in every respect. Thus, she felt resentment, not sympathy, toward Ye Liuyun’s crippled legs—resentment at having to marry a disabled man.
She had never considered Ye Liuyun’s perspective. With his family background, he had no need to accomplish so much; even if he were a wastrel, no one would blame him—only pity him.
Yet every heir of Sword Manor was deemed outstanding, and even her father believed Ye Liuyun to be the best.
Those faint tracks seemed like a whip, lashing her heart.
“I am not wrong,” Xiao Zhu retorted stubbornly.
But Ku Hui had already gone far.
Ku Hui, with decades of Buddhist practice, had mastered ‘Body as Mind’s Will,’ and could travel a thousand miles a day, much like Daoist ‘Divine Travel.’
Yet even he lagged behind the two, despite being ahead and the complex terrain causing frequent changes in direction, which only proved how remarkable Shen Lian and Ye Liuyun were.
******
Shen Lian had never seen anyone like Ye Liuyun, and what arose in him was respect.
He did not purposely slow down; he was already exerting himself fully, yet still could not widen the gap between them.

Ye Liuyun grew intensely focused. He had been defeated only once in his life—by Shen Lian—and this time, he intended to reclaim victory.
Shen Lian, in truth, only wished to learn the details of entering ‘Azure Profundity,’ but he knew nothing could proceed until they had their duel.
Sword Manor had not only plum blossoms, but a hundred other flowers as well.
This forest was filled with peach trees and pear trees.
Ye Liuyun was intimately familiar with every blade of grass and leaf on the mountain, but the location had to be chosen by Shen Lian.
Whenever Shen Lian stopped, that would mark the moment of their true battle.
Shen Lian felt no pity, no compassion. His spirit continued to rise, and he could sense the sandalwood sword at his waist quivering with excitement.
Even a wooden sword is still a sword.
A sword’s essence never changes—it exists to defeat its opponent.
The traces left by Ye Liuyun through the woods grew fainter and eventually vanished altogether, as if he were flying just above the ground.
Shen Lian, like a cloud emerging from the mountain, soared ethereally. His internal energy flowed ever faster, the earth’s gravity binding him less and less.
At the moment when he nearly freed himself completely from gravity, he finally stopped.
Before him lay a clear lake, tranquil and serene, with a bright moon reflected in its center, so vivid to the eye.
A gentle breeze passed, yet the water remained undisturbed.
Ye Liuyun stopped at the same time.
On the ground was Ye Liuyun; in the sky, a patch of dark cloud.
Slowly drifting, it covered the moon.
Within a short span, the world plunged into pitch darkness.