Chapter 71: Cultivation Dissipated: Xie Wujiu’s End

Xie Wujiu knelt in the muddy water at the foot of the mountain, clutching half a broken jade fragment in his palm until his knuckles turned white. Raindrops hammered down, making it impossible for him to keep his eyes open, but he knew it was useless even if the sky cleared—his Spiritual Veins were severed, his cultivation base drained completely, and he couldn’t even muster the most basic Protective Qi Barrier.

The scene from moments ago replayed in his mind: in front of the main hall, the Bloodline Array’s blue light shot into the sky, Shen Yan stood tall and straight, while he himself was forced to bow his head by seven elders working together. A golden pattern spread from his chest to his limbs, like a brand left by a red-hot iron. That was the “Dao Abolishment Seal,” reserved for those guilty of grave crimes such as Qi Deviation, tampering with the Classics, or colluding with evil spirits. Once subjected to this seal, one could never again draw Spiritual Energy into the body for life.

He coughed up a mouthful of black blood, the taste of iron thick in his throat. Rainwater mixed with blood dripped from his chin, splashing into the muddy puddles and creating tiny ripples. He had once been the Shadow Chessmaster of the Medicine Valley Elder Council, the mastermind behind the “Tribulation Inheritance Ceremony” twenty years ago, all for the sake of turning the tables today. And what was the result? A Code Farmer who awakened after a car accident, a broken phone that could write Spell Programs—that was all it took to completely overturn his scheme.

“I shouldn’t have lost…” he gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse. “I was the first to discover the Heavenly Mechanism Loophole… Shen Yan is just a Container, I only…”

Before he could finish, another mouthful of blood surged up.

He tried to form a Hand Seal Formation to contact his old allies, but the Talismans in his sleeve had long since turned to ash. That little bitch Pei Yue had tampered with his personal Jade Slip, and the Reverse Trace directly wiped out all his Communication Nodes. Now, forget mobilizing troops—he couldn’t even send a Message Paper Crane more than three miles away.

A flash of lightning illuminated his completely white hair.

Once jet-black, his long hair had turned entirely white the moment the Formation was Initiated. It wasn’t dyed—it was the result of his Cultivation Dissipated and his Qi and Blood Reversal. He looked down at his withered hands, which looked just like those of the master he had personally crippled twenty years ago.

Fate truly had a twisted sense of humor.

Just then, footsteps echoed from deep within the curtain of rain.

Not the squelching sound of boots treading through mud, but a landing so light it was almost imperceptible, as if the person was unaffected by gravity altogether. Xie Wujiu jerked his head up and saw a figure slowly approaching.

Black-Gold Combat Attire, a Bronze Mask, the right hand hanging at the side, faintly wrapped in a bloody glow.

“Ye Shi’er?” Xie Wujiu’s pupils contracted, followed by a surge of wild joy. “You came! I knew you would! They don’t understand—only we are the ones who truly see through the Heavenly Dao’s Vulnerabilities!”

Ye Shi’er stopped, standing three steps away. The rain falling on him slid off automatically, not even dampening the hem of his clothes.

“Need to cooperate?” he spoke, his voice seeming to come from a great distance, carrying a mechanical, staccato rhythm.

Xie Wujiu struggled to crawl forward a step, mud soaking his pant legs. “Of course! I know the Activation Key for the Source Code Spiritual Root! I know the hiding coordinates of the ‘Mother of Tribulation’! As long as you help me restore my Cultivation Base, I can give you all the intel! Together, we can overthrow this false order!”

As he spoke, he tremblingly reached out, trying to grasp Ye Shi’er’s sleeve.

Just as their hands were about to touch—

Ye Shi’er’s right arm abruptly transformed.

Bones dislocated, flesh and blood restructured, and a Scythe, crimson throughout with Data Patterns flowing across its blade, materialized out of thin air. Without warning, without pause, the Scythe shot out like lightning, piercing precisely through Xie Wujiu’s chest.

“Guh—!”

Xie Wujiu was pinned to the ground, his back slammed into the mud, splattering filthy water everywhere.

He looked down at the scythe embedded in his chest, disbelief in his eyes. “You… aren’t you the Shadow Erosion Leader? Aren’t we… on the same side?”

Ye Shi’er looked down at him, his mask reflecting the faint lightning in the distance. “Error 404, target value zero. Clearing Program initiated.”

“Clearing? You’re saying I’m… an error?” Xie Wujiu coughed up blood, his gaze gradually fading. “But I clearly… grasped the truth… I am… the only one…”

Before he could finish, a bolt of lightning struck, illuminating Ye Shi’er’s face.

With a deafening roar, a fine crack appeared on the mask.

Xie Wujiu’s gaze froze.

Through the crack, he saw a face—the brow, nose bridge, lips—all identical to Shen Yan’s. The only difference was a winding blue data pattern on the right cheek, like the trail of crawling code.

“This… impossible…” His lips trembled. “Are you… a Dual-Born Entity? Or… a Clone? Wait… that experiment twenty years ago… both of you… are ‘Backups’?”

Ye Shi’er didn’t answer.

He simply withdrew the scythe slowly, his movements clean and precise, as if pulling a USB drive from a data model.

Xie Wujiu’s body went limp, collapsing into the muddy water, his eyes wide open, fixed on Ye Shi’er’s face.

Just before his consciousness faded completely, he finally understood something.

It turned out he had never been a player.

He was merely a garbage process, marked as an “Anomalous Variable” during the System’s operation.

Being cleared was the inevitable outcome.

Ye Shi’er sheathed his scythe, the crack on his mask silently healing. He turned and walked step by step into the curtain of rain, his figure gradually blurring.

Only after walking a hundred paces did he stop.

Raising his hand, he traced his fingertip through the air, and a line of Chinese Command appeared:

“Delete Local Cache: Xie Wujiu.”

Confirm execution.

The next second, a Children’s Rhyme echoed in his ears, fragmented, as if playing from a very ancient Jade Slip:

“The crescent moon shines over the nine provinces,

Whose daughter does not climb the tower…”

Ye Shi’er paused in his steps.

He touched his face beneath the mask and whispered to himself, “Brother, do you still remember this song?”

Then, he continued forward, his figure completely disappearing into the darkness.

At the same time, near the main hall of Medicine Valley.

Shen Yan was leaning against a corridor pillar when his phone suddenly vibrated.

The screen lit up, and a Notice popped up:

【Detected high-intensity Data Residual Wave】

【Source direction: Northeast side of the mountain foot】

【Waveform Characteristics: 97% match with Ye Shi’er’s combat mode】

【Additional information: Captured an Audio Fragment, suspected to be a Children’s Rhyme】

He frowned and was about to tap to view it when footsteps approached from the side.

Pei Yue walked over carrying a Medicine Pouch, raindrops still clinging to the ends of her hair.

“Why are you still here? Didn’t we agree you’d go back to write the report?” Her tone was slightly urgent. “And you don’t look well—is the System acting up again?”

Shen Yan didn’t speak, just stared at his phone screen.

The Children’s Rhyme was loading automatically, but the progress bar froze halfway.

His fingers swiped quickly, pulling up a Spectrum Analysis Chart. He discovered that beneath the audio was nested a set of Encrypted Signals, its structure extremely complex, like some kind of Identity Authentication Protocol.

“It’s nothing.” He closed his phone and smiled. “Just the System reminding me that someone’s dancing on my family’s ancestral grave.”

Pei Yue was taken aback. “What?”

“Never mind.” Shen Yan stuffed the phone into his pocket, his gaze drifting toward the rain curtain outside the mountain. “It’s just… today’s rain seems to be falling a bit too uniformly.”

Pei Yue followed his line of sight, seeing only a stretch of darkness.

But she suddenly sensed something amiss—a faint trace of metallic rust lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of rain.

It was the smell of blood.

She turned to look at Shen Yan. “Do you want to go check it out?”

Shen Yan shook his head. “No need. What’s meant to come will come; what isn’t meant to be, chasing after it won’t help.”

With that, he turned and headed back.

Pei Yue followed a few steps before suddenly hearing him mutter under his breath:

“The Dual-Born Entity… really is persistent.”

She didn’t catch it clearly. “What did you say?”

Shen Yan waved a hand dismissively. “I was just thinking, maybe next time I could change the System’s theme skin. Black is too gloomy—how about a pink heart one?”

Pei Yue rolled her eyes. “If you dare change the Medicine Valley Grand Array to pink, I’ll throw you into the Alchemy Furnace to be remade.”

Shen Yan chuckled, his steps lightening a little.

But just as the two turned the corner of the corridor—

His phone vibrated again.

The screen automatically displayed an audio waveform, and the Children’s Rhyme began playing once more.

This time, two additional words were clearly audible at the beginning:

“Bro—ther—”

(End of Chapter)