Hua Zhaoting and the Hua Family disciples were still blocked outside the courtyard by that barrier of wind and snow.

Xiao Fuxuan was about to remove the barrier when he heard this and stopped. "We can't?"

Yi Wusheng's expression was grave. "He can't be allowed to hear."

"Your Family Head has a problem too?"

"He's more or less the same as me. It's been a long time, and it's deeply rooted, so don't alarm him."

Wu Xingxue glanced at his appearance, which was nothing more than a wisp of a remnant soul. "How long is 'a long time'?"

Yi Wusheng fell silent. After a moment, he said softly, "Over twenty years."

The first time he realized something was wrong with him was more than twenty years ago.

***

That day, Yi Wusheng was with his beloved disciple, Ah Yao, in Qingxin Hall, tending to a newly refined batch of medicine.

The pills favored by people of the Immortal Sects were numerous and complex, but everyone kept a few essential types on hand—those that boosted cultivation, prolonged life, healed injuries, saved lives, and also, took lives. The remaining strange and peculiar pills, so many that one couldn't name them all, were refined by the various sects for their own use, each with its own unique characteristics.

The Dreamless Pill refined by Yi Wusheng was unique to Peach Blossom Isle.

He refined this medicine because, in that year, strange incidents frequently occurred in Great Sorrow Valley, a major thoroughfare outside Yuyang City. Commoners or disciples of Immortal Sects who passed through showed no abnormalities upon leaving the valley, but within three days, bizarre and eerie things would happen—

A mark resembling a Puppet Seal would inexplicably appear on the back of their necks. They would often feel an itch all over their bodies but couldn't pinpoint the location, leading them to scratch uncontrollably. Some eventually went mad as if their hearts were on fire, scratching themselves until their bodies were a bloody mess.

Another problem was sleepwalking. When they slept at night, they would dream that they were extremely hungry and were searching everywhere for food. After searching for who knows how long, they would finally see a stall, sit down, and eat, their mouths filled with fresh juices as they chewed.

When they suddenly woke from the dream, they would find that they were truly holding something in their hands and had indeed been eating all night. Some held fruits and vegetables, some held raw fish and meat, and some... held people.

This state was almost identical to being possessed by an Evil Demon, so the major Immortal Sects naturally couldn't let it be.

They sent people one after another to investigate carefully, hoping to understand the cause. But caution was useless; most who went fell victim, and those who were lucky enough to remain unscathed could be counted on one hand.

The one who suffered the most devastating losses back then was the Feng Clan.

The Feng Clan had always been on good terms with Peach Blossom Isle, so the Head of the Feng Clan, Feng Juyan, and his elder brother, Feng Feishi, came personally to request medicine for the afflicted disciples of their sect.

Everyone in the world knew that Yi Wusheng of Peach Blossom Isle was most skilled in the Soul Dream Technique, and the people afflicted in Great Sorrow Valley all devoured human flesh in their dreams.

For a time, the threshold of Peach Blossom Isle was nearly worn down by visitors.

Yi Wusheng went into seclusion for seven days, forgoing food, water, and sleep. He finally managed to create a medicine called the Dreamless Pill.

Those who were afflicted in Great Sorrow Valley, if they took the Dreamless Pill within a month, would have their souls sealed for forty-nine days. When they woke up, they would be back to normal. The only risk was that they might lose one of their five senses due to the prolonged soul-sealing.

If it was over a month... even eating a whole vat of Dreamless Pills would be of no use. Not even an Immortal could save them!

For that entire year, Yi Wusheng was refining the Dreamless Pill, often without sleep. But he managed to save a large number of people. The Family Head, Hua Zhaoting, was afraid he would be overworked and specially instructed the sect's disciples not to disturb Yi Wusheng with any trivial matters. He also selected a group of disciples to help him manage Qingxin Hall.

By the end of that year, around the winter month, Great Sorrow Valley had been sealed for over a month, and there were no new victims.

Yi Wusheng finally got some free time.

That day, the last batch of Dreamless Pills was being buried in the flower vats.

"This Dreamless Pill is different from ordinary pills. It cannot be touched by fire or go into a pill furnace. It must be carefully buried in fine sand, three feet deep, and sprinkled with still spring water daily, hss—"

Yi Wusheng was explaining to Ah Yao when he suddenly felt an itch on the back of his neck. He frowned and scratched it.

"The water is best if it's been frozen, remember you must not—" As he spoke, he felt itchy again. He simply handed the pill sieve to Ah Yao and stepped aside.

He scratched for a while and felt a burning pain on the back of his neck, so he started to head into the hall.

But just as he turned, he heard Ah Yao let out a soft "ah" and say, "Master, the back of your neck is bleeding. Let me get some cream for you."

'Bleeding after just a few scratches?'

Yi Wusheng was puzzled. He waved his hand and said, "No need, you continue burying the Dreamless Pills. I'm going to my room."

At that time, there was a young disciple sweeping in the room, tidying up the medicine cabinet and the bed.

Seeing Yi Wusheng rush in with blood on his fingers, the disciple hurriedly found some cream. "Sir, let me help you."

Yi Wusheng glanced at his fingers, stained with both sand and blood, and didn't refuse this time. He sat down at the table and waited for the young disciple to apply the medicine. After waiting for a while, the young disciple still hadn't moved.

"What is it?"

"Sir, you..." The young disciple's voice was weak.

Yi Wusheng turned his head and saw him clutching the medicine bowl, his face pale.

"Why is your face so pale? It's not like you haven't seen broken skin and torn flesh before. A few scratches scared you this much." Between laughter and tears, Yi Wusheng grabbed a cloth to wipe his hands. Just as he was about to take the medicine bowl to apply it himself, he saw the young disciple's fingers tremble, and the bowl fell to the ground, smearing cream all over the floor.

Yi Wusheng froze for a moment, then lifted the hem of his robe and hurried into the inner room, finding two bronze mirrors to take a look.

In the bronze mirrors, he saw the deep scratch marks on the back of his neck. The extent of the bloody flesh didn't look like it was caused by a person's fingers at all, but more like the work of sharp claws.

And beneath those few scratches, there was a faint residual ink mark, very similar to those of the people afflicted in Great Sorrow Valley.

In an instant, a chill ran through Yi Wusheng's entire body.

He dropped the bronze mirrors and rummaged through his chests and cabinets, finding the remaining Dreamless Pills from the last batch.

For a normal person, one Dreamless Pill was enough.

He swallowed one whole, not even bothering to change his clothes, and lay down on the bed. He lay there with his eyes open until dark, but there was no sign of his soul being sealed.

He climbed up from the bed again, his fingers trembling as he grabbed the bottle, poured out a handful of Dreamless Pills, and swallowed them all...

This time, he did sleep, but it was not soul-sealing.

He had refined the Dreamless Pill with his own hands; he knew its effects better than anyone. If one had been afflicted for over a month, eating more would be of no use.

Therefore, he couldn't remember anything that happened after that.

But even if he couldn't remember, he knew what would happen—the hosted Evil Demon would be alerted, rapidly devour his soul and flesh, and take over as the new master of this shell. "He" would continue to do the things he did every day, not letting anyone notice anything amiss, and then wait for hunger to arrive.

Every so often, the Evil Demon would become unbearably hungry and need to feed on the living flesh and soul of a human.

On very rare occasions, Yi Wusheng would regain some consciousness, like a remnant soul unwilling to depart, still trying to reclaim control.

The first time he was briefly lucid, he saw the young disciple who had helped him apply medicine sweeping dust by the bookcase. The disciple even bowed to him and called him "Sir." He tried tapping the back of the disciple's head and, sure enough, heard the hollow sound of a wooden fish.

The second time he was briefly lucid was on that cold night twenty-five years ago. Ah Yao was crying and screaming like a madman in front of the hall. His elder brother, Yi Wuqi, lay smiling in a pool of blood. His wife, daughter, and father were being tapped on their bodies, emitting the same hollow sound as the young disciple.

He came from an Immortal Sect and was once a dashing and talented man. That night, however, he suddenly acquired an air of world-weariness.

He remembered it very clearly. Late that night, he had exhausted his Spirit Essence and struggled to seize a sliver of consciousness, rushing straight to Jianhua Hall where the Family Head was. He wanted to tell Hua Zhaoting to relieve him of his position as an Elder of the Four Halls, entrust all his affairs, and then have Hua Zhaoting kill him.

Because the hosted Evil Demon would not let him kill himself, he had to find someone who could subdue him and kill him.

Yi Wusheng stumbled to Jianhua Hall and, disregarding all etiquette, pushed open the hall doors.

Hua Zhaoting was holding a long-spouted teapot, bending over to water the flower vats by the wall. Hearing the noise, he turned his head, a weary look on his face. He pointed at Yi Wusheng and said, "You, Wusheng. If it were any other disciple of the sect, barging into my Jianhua Hall without permission after I've issued a prohibition, I would definitely punish them severely."

Yi Wusheng didn't answer. He could feel his consciousness fading again. He had to hurry and explain everything before that happened.

So he slammed against the table with a "bang" and seized Hua Zhaoting's arm. "Family Head..."

In that instant, his strength was immense, and he squeezed so hard that Hua Zhaoting also bumped against the table, his body leaning forward for a moment.

And so, Yi Wusheng saw the back of his neck.

On the back of Hua Zhaoting's neck, there were also semi-healed scratch marks, and beneath them, a residual ink mark.

In that split second, Yi Wusheng's pupils constricted, and an icy chill shot from his head to his feet.

"What's wrong with you?" Hua Zhaoting asked him.

Yi Wusheng's words caught on his tongue. He said, "I... I need to go into seclusion for a while."

***

Yi Wusheng's face was pale, his expression subdued. He turned to look at the dazed Ah Yao. "Ah Yao's usual temperament is enthusiastic and steady. He's someone who can handle great responsibilities, and he's a disciple of an Immortal Sect. He wouldn't have been scared mad like that just from witnessing someone's murder. He was struck with a forbidden art, intentionally meant to make him unable to speak clearly."

"When I returned to Qingxin Hall later, I only had time to do one thing," Yi Wusheng said in a low voice. "I added another forbidden art on him. Under the two layers of forbidden arts, no one on Peach Blossom Isle, at least, could undo it. As long as the forbidden arts last, he will remain mad."

"I was afraid that if he regained his senses, he would say something he shouldn't. On this Peach Blossom Isle, there's no one who could help him."

After all, Ah Yao had grown up with Yi Wusheng and witnessed the whole story of Yi Wuqi's death. If he became lucid, he would surely want to get a clear explanation from Yi Wusheng. If he then saw the mark on Yi Wusheng's neck, he would, in all likelihood, suffer the same fate as that young sweeping disciple.

"After that, I never woke up again, until today." Yi Wusheng looked through the thick night in the courtyard, toward the shadowy figures beyond the barrier of wind and snow. "As long as the Evil Demon isn't provoked into a rage, twenty-five years have passed just like that. The Family Head entered the Dao through the sword; he is one of the few people in the last hundred years closest to ascending to immortality. Once the Evil Demon hosted in his body is provoked, there is absolutely no one with higher cultivation who can stop him. I'm afraid the thousands of disciples of my Peach Blossom Isle will all—"

Before he could finish his words, he saw a sword shadow beside him already unsheathed.

Yi Wusheng: "?"

"You—absolutely not!" Yi Wusheng couldn't very well let go of the paper, so in his panic, he forgot his decorum and shouted to stop him.

"Ah, you shouted too late. Just rest." Wu Xingxue pulled him back. Turning to see Xiao Fuxuan radiating a frosty, piercing Sword Intent, he tilted his head and asked Yi Wusheng, "How high did you say his cultivation is?"

"Close to ascension!" Yi Wusheng said emphatically.

Xiao Fuxuan repeated nonchalantly, "Oh, close."

The instant his voice fell, the sword shadow had already traversed the sky, transforming into ten thousand rays of golden light. With the sound of thunder from the Nine Heavens, it precisely targeted Hua Zhaoting through the blinding barrier of wind and snow and came crashing down.