He knocked over his teacup as he stood up. The tea flowed down the edge of the table, dripping onto his shoes.
He didn’t bother to look, walking straight out.
In the outer hall, the disciple lay on a stretcher, her breath as thin as silk. Several servants on night duty stood around, none of them daring to make a sound.
Shen Mo walked over and knelt down.
The disciple’s eyelids fluttered as if sensing something, and she forced them open a crack. Seeing Shen Mo’s face, her eyes suddenly reddened.
Shen Mo took her remaining hand.
It was ice-cold and covered in cold sweat.
“Where is Chao’er?”
But the disciple looked into his eyes and suddenly didn’t dare to speak.
“Speak.”
Shen Mo’s voice remained flat.
The disciple’s Adam’s apple bobbed, her lips trembling for a few moments before she finally squeezed out a few words.
“Senior Sister Chao’er… she was ambushed… we… we fled to the Soul-Severing Cliff… she… she jumped… to draw away the pursuers…”
Soul-Severing Cliff.
As those three words fell, the outer hall became so quiet that one could hear the crackling of the candle flame.
Everyone in the cultivation world knew what lay beneath the Soul-Severing Cliff.
The Demon Abyss.
A rift left behind by an ancient battlefield, bottomless, filled with miasma, and teeming with demons.
Ten out of ten people who fell in never returned. The rare one or two who managed to crawl out alive had all gone mad.
Shen Mo did not move.
He remained kneeling there, holding the disciple’s hand, his eyes fixed on her face.
The disciple felt unnerved by his gaze, yet she couldn’t say what was wrong.
Master Shen’s expression was calm, so calm it was as if he hadn’t heard anything. But those eyes —
Those eyes were empty.
There was no sadness, no shock, no anger.
They were hollow. Hollow like a dried-up well, like a long-abandoned house, like a corner in the middle of the night where moonlight could not reach.
“Master Shen…” the disciple called out timidly.
Shen Mo released her hand.
He stood up.
He swayed for a moment as he rose. A servant nearby tried to help, but Shen Mo brushed the hand away.
“Who did it?” he asked.
The disciple shook her head. “I… I don’t know… they were all masked… but their cultivation was very high…”
Shen Mo stood there, listening.
The disciple continued. “We were supposed to just explore one Ancient Ruins Group… but somehow news leaked… we were cornered as soon as we entered… Senior Sister… she told me to leave first, saying she would lead them away…”
As she spoke, her voice choked up.
Shen Mo said nothing.
He just stood there, looking at the candle flame.
The light flickered, casting dancing shadows across his face.
After a long time, or perhaps just a moment, he spoke. “Take her away to treat her wounds.”
The servants snapped out of their daze and hurriedly carried the stretcher away.
As the disciple was carried out the door, she struggled to turn her head toward Shen Mo.
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.
The people left.
The outer hall became empty.
Shen Mo was still standing there.
“All of you, leave.”
The servants looked at each other. Daring not to ask more, they filed out one after another.
The door closed.
Only Shen Mo remained in the outer hall.
He slowly walked to a chair and sat down.
His movements were steady, his back straight, and his hands rested on his knees. His posture was as formal as if he were receiving a guest.
He just sat there.
He looked at the wall opposite him.
A painting hung on that wall, one that Chao’er had painted when she first arrived.
She was 8 years old that year.
She was only as tall as his waist back then, having just arrived at Jiaoyue Peak. She was timid, not even daring to speak loudly.
Once, while he was teaching her how to draw talismans, her mind had wandered. She drew a lopsided little rabbit on the talisman paper and then peeked up at him, afraid he would be angry.
He wasn’t angry.
He had kept that talisman paper, later having someone frame it to hang in this hall.
Now, he looked at that painting.
The little rabbit on the paper was still lopsided, sitting there foolishly as if waiting for someone to pat its head.
Shen Mo looked at it.
He looked for a long time.
Then he raised his hands and covered his face.
There was no sound.
Only his shoulders began to shake.
The shaking was light, like ripples on the water stirred by the wind. But beneath those ripples was an invisible abyss.
……
The news spread quickly.
Early the next morning, Lin Jingzhe stormed into his courtyard.
She kicked the door open with a loud bang!
She stood at the door with a terrible expression, clutching a Longsword with blood that hadn’t quite dried on the hilt.
“You heard?” she asked bluntly.
Shen Mo was sitting by the window, packing his things.
A Storage Bag was spread out on the table, and he was placing items inside one by one: talismans, elixirs, magical tools, and wound medicine.
He packed very carefully, checking each item before putting it away.
Lin Jingzhe watched his movements, her frown deepening.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing,” Shen Mo said without looking up.
“Why are you packing?”
Shen Mo did not answer.
Lin Jingzhe rushed over in a few steps and grabbed his wrist. “Are you crazy? You’re going to the Demon Abyss?”
Shen Mo finally looked up at her.
There were dark circles under his eyes, looking as though he hadn’t slept all night. Yet his gaze was calm, so calm it made her skin crawl.
“When the Matriarch went into seclusion, she entrusted her to my care,” he said.
“I know!” Lin Jingzhe’s voice cracked. “But that’s the Demon Abyss! Even a Nascent Soul expert might not come out alive. What are you going for? To die?”
Shen Mo said nothing.
He just looked at Lin Jingzhe, waiting for her to finish.
Stunned by his gaze, Lin Jingzhe’s grip loosened.
“You…” she started, her voice suddenly dropping. “You know that almost no one who falls into the Demon Abyss returns. Chao’er… she…”
She couldn’t say the word.
Shen Mo said it for her. “She might already be dead.”
Lin Jingzhe froze.
Shen Mo looked down and continued packing.
He put the last few bottles of elixirs inside, tied the knot on the Storage Bag, and stood up.
“I know she might already be dead,” he said, his voice still flat. “But what if she isn’t?”
Lin Jingzhe looked at him.
She looked at his calm face, his calm eyes, and his calm movements.
She suddenly felt a blockage in her chest.
“You…” she spoke, her voice somewhat strained. “You know that even if someone goes, it wouldn’t be you. Jiaoyue Peak has Guest Elders, and there are people from Heavenly Sword Peak. If all else fails, we can ask the Sect Leader to step in. What can you do by going?”
Shen Mo did not answer.
He simply hung the Storage Bag from his waist and walked past her.
When he reached the door, he paused.
“You said it,” he spoke with his back to her, his voice very light. “As long as one is alive, they can get through anything.”
Lin Jingzhe was stunned.
“But what if they aren’t alive?”
After saying this, he pushed the door and went out.
Lin Jingzhe stood in place, watching his figure disappear past the door.
She gripped her sword tightly.
Her knuckles turned white.
“Damn it,” she cursed harshly before chasing after him.
Shen Mo had just reached the Mountain Gate when he was stopped.
The person blocking him was a woman in green robes with a cold face. She stood in the center of the Mountain Gate with her hands behind her back, looking like a sword thrust into the ground.
Qin Shuying.
It was unknown when she had arrived or how long she had been waiting.
Shen Mo stopped and looked at her.
Qin Shuying said coldly, “The Secret Realm’s time is not yet up. One can only leave, not enter. The Soul-Severing Cliff belongs to the Ancient Ruins Group and is bound by the Rules of the Heavenly Dao.”
She paused, looking as though she wanted to say more but hesitated.
Shen Mo turned to look at her.
“How much longer?”
“What?”
“How much longer until the Secret Realm opens?”
Qin Shuying remained silent for a moment.
Lin Jingzhe answered for her. “7 days.”
Shen Mo looked at her.
Lin Jingzhe looked away, avoiding his gaze, but her voice remained stiff.
“The opening time of the Secret Realm is fixed. Every year at this time, it’s 7 days later. Chao’er and the others were able to enter because they obtained Trial Tokens in advance; those things can open a gap in the seal to send in disciples below the Foundation Establishment stage. But that’s all. The seal itself remains. It only opened a crack. Wanting to force your way in from the outside? Keep dreaming.”
Shen Mo listened.
When she finished, he nodded.
Then he turned around and continued walking forward.