Chapter 145 Embroidery Needle

The yellow-robed cultivator's body withered and curled up like a deflated ball.

His pupils dilated as he stared blankly up at the sky.

His body perished, and his Dao was dissolved.

Seeing his elder brother struck down in just two exchanges, the long-faced cultivator was seized with terror. He flicked his mother-and-child flying blades to deflect the twin swords, and instantly activated several talismans he held in his palm.

With a flash of his figure, he attempted to escape outside the temple.

Hiss—

Xiao He raised her head from the shadows, seeming to have finally found an opening.

A cyan-gold radiance flickered, and a majestic demonic aura slowly gathered in her mouth.

The Unmoored Boat and the Twin Swords returned to their scabbard as surging sword Qi rippled around Song Yan, who pointed his sword-finger into the void.

Green Snake from the Sleeve.

Torrential sword Qi gushed out from the wide sleeves of his Dao robe, weaving and slithering like a green snake as it blocked the path of the long-faced cultivator.

His figure came to an abrupt halt, leaving him trapped between advance and retreat.

Hah!

Right at this moment, the cluster of demonic energy gathered in Xiao He's mouth burst forth explosively, transforming into dozens of cyan leaf-shaped flying blades that assailed the long-faced cultivator from various angles.

Green leaves fluttered through the air, dense and numerous like a torrential storm over a cold river!

The long-faced cultivator tried to dodge and escape to the side, but the cyan leaf demonic blades were simply too numerous, each one pursuing him with rapid speed.

With a moment of carelessness, three cyan leaf blades grazed across him.

His protective spiritual raiment did not shatter instantly; instead, it began to melt away.

"Senior, spare..."

The long-faced cultivator begged for his life at his absolute fastest speed, but it was still too late to outpace the fluttering leaves piercing into his flesh.

"...my life."

As the very first cyan leaf demonic blade pierced his body, the world before his eyes began to darken into an abyss.

The flying leaves sank into him one by one, just like Song Yan's sword Qi.

Bizarrely, that cyan demonic energy did not dissipate; instead, dense and concentrated, it lingered all over his body.

From Xiao He's mouth came a human voice: "Bang!"

Simultaneously, the long-faced cultivator watched with his own eyes as the cyan leaves embedded in his body began to swell.

Then, they burst with a deafening crash.

A sudden clap of thunder echoed on flat ground, blowing him apart into a mist of blood and shattered flesh.

Watching the long-faced cultivator's miserable end, Song Yan could not help but inwardly murmur that Xiao He's methods of dispatching enemies were truly far too cruel...

Cuju Yi, hiding in a corner behind the incense burner, stared blankly at the corpses of the three—make that two corpses and a mist of bloody minced meat.

Then, an indescribable sense of dizziness surged up within her. Unsteady on her feet, she collapsed to her knees and began to retch dryly.

"Ugh, cough, cough..."

Song Yan snapped back to his senses and glanced at her.

"Rest yourself for a moment. I need to find a place to bury these people properly."

"Y-Yes..."

Xiao He collected the mustard seed bags of the three men one by one.

With a flick of his finger, Song Yan cast three streaks of flame, reducing their corpses to ashes.

Following that, he gathered the remains of all the disciples of Nanshan Temple, carried them to the back mountain, and found a tranquil spot to lay them to rest properly.

He even erected a cenotaph for Temple Master Lu.

It could be considered a slight gesture of courtesy.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't all that familiar with him.

Given Lu Yuan's cultivation at the peak of Qi Condensation, since he fell outside, the one who killed him was likely in the Foundation Establishment realm.

Song Yan had no obligation to get to the bottom of the matter for him.

"Temple Master Lu, perhaps you don't remember who I am, but it doesn't matter."

He lit a stick of incense and inserted it before Lu Yuan's cenotaph.

"Now that your body has perished and Nanshan Temple has fallen, no doubt your spirit in heaven cannot escape grief and vexation."

"I have avenged your disciples and repaid the debt of that cup of spiritual tea from years ago. That should be more than enough."

With those words, he bowed three times slightly toward the cenotaph.

Cuju Yi stood quietly not far behind, watching in silence.

"This matter is settled, let us go."

Song Yan flicked his wide sleeve and led little Cu out down the mountain.

Xiao He was poking her head about on the ground; right from the start, she had caught a strange scent.

It seemed to be the smell of corpses as well, yet it was exceptionally unique.

"Mm..."

"Xiao He! What are you doing?"

In the distance, Song Yan called out to her.

Hence, she stopped lingering and slithered away after him.

...

"The memento your mother left you, what kind of magical artifact was it again?"

"It's an embroidery needle!"

Song Yan casually wiped away the spiritual imprints left by the three men on the mustard seed bags and swept his divine sense inward.

In the short, plump cultivator's bag, he found an embroidery needle that did not look like something belonging to the man himself.

"Is this the one?"

A tiny needle hovered in Song Yan's palm, golden at the head and tail, and whitish in the middle.

The tail bore some exquisitely carved floral patterns.

"Yes, that's the one."

Cuju Yi looked at the slowly hovering embroidery needle with eyes full of joy, reaching out as if to cradle it, before abruptly withdrawing her hand as if remembering something.

"Senior Song, I... I have nothing to give you in return."

Little Cu lowered her head.

Impoverished to begin with, she had spent every last coin to provide her mother with a decent funeral. Now, she was entirely penniless, utterly destitute.

The spiritual stones given by Temple Master Lu were not even enough to cover the debts she owed to the Seamless Garment Shop.

"Take it..."

Song Yan sighed inwardly and pushed the embroidery needle toward her.

Little Cu raised her head, a trace of confusion in her gaze: "Senior Song, what is it that you want?"

In this world, apart from her mother, absolutely no one offered kindness without reason.

Since Senior Song retrieved the embroidery needle for her, he must surely want something in return.

She was ugly in appearance and bore an inauspicious aura; naturally, it could not be because of her beauty.

And this embroidery needle was the most precious item she possessed in the entire world...

Song Yan desperately wanted to say it was merely a flick of a finger, a trivial effort.

Yet, looking at the conflicted expression of the young girl, a trace of soft-heartedness stirred within him.

"Naturally, I am not returning it to you for nothing."

He spoke up: "You must help me sew a Dao robe."

"A Dao robe..."

Little Cu raised her head, her gaze clearing up considerably.

"Indeed. I have recently advanced to the inner sect and require a custom-made Dao robe."

He retrieved an ordinary standard-issue Sword-Wiping Peak Dao robe from his mustard seed bag, gently placed the embroidery needle upon it, and handed it unceremoniously into the young girl's embrace.

"It must incorporate spirit-gathering array patterns; you may handle the rest however you see fit."

Song Yan had already entertained this thought, and since the opportunity presented itself right now, he simply decided not to look for anyone else.

Having spirit-gathering array patterns sewn into the Dao robe would slightly increase the efficiency of absorbing spiritual Qi.

Though negligible, when accumulated over days and months, the time and energy saved would be quite considerable.

"O-Okay."

"I will provide the materials for the spirit-gathering array patterns; you must figure out the rest yourself."

"Can you do it?"

Little Cu looked into his eyes and nodded with great force: "Mm-hmm."

"Of course!"

She didn't even need to search for the materials of the spirit-gathering array patterns herself, and as for the materials for dust-repelling and water-repelling array patterns, she still had quite a few left.

There was zero problem.

"This time it will only take seven days—no, five days! Five days will be enough!"

She patted her chest in assurance.

"Very well."

Song Yan nodded. "I still need to seek out a medicinal herb. Will you come along with me, or return to the sect on your own?"

Cuju Yi was not a disciple of the Abyss-Profound Sect; she could only be considered a rogue cultivator living near the Linyuanze Market.

"..."

Little Cu had originally wanted to say she wouldn't trouble Senior Song, but the words took a turn upon reaching her lips.

"Senior Song, what medicinal herb are you searching for?"

She smiled self-deprecatingly, looking a bit embarrassed: "I've gotten lost in these parts more times than I can count, perhaps I've seen it before."

"Ah, it is a medicinal herb called Seven-Leaf Yanghuang."

Little Cu knew nothing about medicinal herbs, so Song Yan showed her the appearance of the Seven-Leaf Yanghuang.

"Ah..." Little Cu gasped in surprise: "Then I think I really have seen it."

...

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