As Stars Shift with the Merchant, Part 2

When Yun Yao arrived at Qianmen, the first group of high-realm elders and disciples from Jiushi Valley, led by Xiao Jiushi, had only just reached the sect.

The Qianmen Mountain gate was a scene of devastation—scattered vegetation, corpses strewn across the ground, and rivers of blood.
The moment Yun Yao beheld this hellish carnage, boundless rage surged through her heart. If Bixiao stood before her now, she might have severed his limbs and crippled his spirit palace, forcing him to kneel eternally at Qianmen’s gate to ease her pain, if only for a moment.

Yun Yao took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her emotions.

She released her divine sense, enveloping Qianmen, and located the Sect Leader and others. She shot toward Fengtian Peak like a bolt of lightning.
Landing, she ignored the hurried salutes of surrounding disciples and stepped directly to Chen Qingmu, pulling him upright. “What’s the situation inside the sect?”

“All peaks have casualties, not yet fully tallied,” Chen Qingmu’s aged face was ashen, his expression almost broken. “Martial Uncle, I failed to protect the sect. I misjudged others, letting villains infiltrate, destroying our protective array, and inviting wolves into our home…”

“Enough. Now’s not the time for apologies.”
Yun Yao scanned the peak.

Jiushi Valley’s elders and disciples had arrived in waves, tending to Qianmen’s wounded and clearing corpses. As she calmed slightly from her journey, Yun Yao noticed something—
Though the battle within Qianmen was brutal, the majority of the corpses weren’t Qianmen cultivators.

How could Fuyu Palace, led by Bixiao and supported by Li Wuhuan’s true dragon power, suffer the heaviest losses?

Recalling the terrifying tribulation thunder she heard from Phoenix Immortal Mountain, Yun Yao’s heart didn’t ease—it grew heavier.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew.
That thunder wasn’t an ordinary Tribulation-stage calamity; it carried the faint force of heavenly punishment from the immortal realm.
Yet Mu Hanyuan hadn’t fallen to demonic ways in this life. Why would he face divine wrath?

“Martial Uncle!”

A aggrieved cry snapped Yun Yao from her thoughts. Turning, she saw Ding Xiao, covered in blood and dirt, rushing forward.
“Martial Uncle, Senior Sister Jianxue was taken by Li Wuhuan. And Lord Hanyuan—Brother Hanyuan broke through to Tribulation to protect the sect’s elders and disciples, but… but something seems off since his breakthrough…”

Yun Yao’s expression shifted. “Where is Mu Hanyuan now?”

“…”

Ding Xiao hesitated, glancing at the others.
Led by Chen Qingmu, the Qianmen disciples’ faces were uneasy, some even showing traces of fear.

Yun Yao’s heart burned with urgency, her brow sharpening as she pressed further.

“If my probe is correct, he chased Fuyu Palace’s remnants northwest.”
“?”

Yun Yao turned to see Xiao Jiushi stepping from behind the Qianmen crowd.

But at that moment, she had no time for him, sharply asking Ding Xiao, “He pursued alone?”

“Y-Yes…”

“And you let him?!” Yun Yao’s voice rose in fury.

“…”

The Qianmen disciples exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes faltering.
They couldn’t explain—when Mu Hanyuan stood alone in the void, a single sword stroke had slain countless enemies around them, blood pooling into rivers, the stench nauseating. None dared meet his indifferent gaze, overwhelmed by the suffocating blood aura and killing intent. Who could have dared follow?

“I don’t blame them,” Xiao Jiushi said, stepping beside Yun Yao, thoughtfully rubbing his fingers. “I arrived before you and investigated. Your disciple… there’s something strange about him.”

Yun Yao’s gaze turned icy. “Valley Master Xiao, think before you speak.”

“Don’t believe me? See for yourself.” Xiao Jiushi waved his sleeve toward the piled Fuyu Palace corpses. “Today, nine out of ten Fuyu Palace elders and disciples killed here died by a single sword strike, within five breaths. In other words, your disciple Mu Hanyuan crushed them effortlessly, taking thousands of lives without blinking.”

“…”
Yun Yao’s face darkened, her fingers trembling beneath her sleeve before clenching tight.
She glared at Xiao Jiushi. “So what? Did he harm a single innocent? Fuyu Palace attacked Qianmen, killing countless of our sect. Don’t they deserve death? Or should Qianmen disciples have surrendered?”

Xiao Jiushi sighed. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’m saying your disciple’s nature may not be benevolent. You should be cautious—”

“Enough!”
Yun Yao cut him off. “He broke through and killed only those who brought evil to our sect! Hold your judgments until later, Valley Master Xiao!”

With that, she summoned her Naihe Sword.

Ding Fen stepped forward.
“Martial Uncle!”
“I’m going too!”
“Me too!”

“No nonsense!” Yun Yao’s sharp gaze halted them. “You’re all injured. Following would only burden me or Mu Hanyuan. Stay, heal, and handle the aftermath. Await my return.”

“…Yes.”
They stepped back.

Xiao Jiushi, however, selected a few high-realm Jiushi Valley elders and rose on his sword. “I’m uninjured and free. I’ll join you. You won’t mind, Little Martial Uncle?”

For Jiushi Valley’s swift aid, Yun Yao didn’t argue, turning to fly off.
“Keep up.”

“…”

Their sword energies had barely risen a hundred yards from Qianmen when a blinding treasure light shot from the northwest, reaching them in an instant.

Jiushi Valley elders tensed, some raising spiritual barriers.
Only Yun Yao paused, then her face changed. She released a strand of spiritual energy toward the light, which halted midair, as if sensing her, then redirected from Qianmen toward her.

*Boom—*

After a thunderous sound, the object stopped beside Yun Yao, revealing itself in the treasure light.

“The Minsheng Zither?!” A Jiushi Valley elder behind Xiao Jiushi exclaimed. “Isn’t that Lord Hanyuan’s inseparable artifact?”
“An artifact leaving its master—has something happened to Mu Hanyuan?”
“No, its spiritual light is intact, not like it’s lost its master.”
“…”

Yun Yao’s face showed the most dramatic change. She raised her sleeve, collecting the Minsheng Zither and the Dragon’s Cry Sword, whose presence only she sensed, then sped northwest on Naihe.

“Valley Master?” An elder hesitated.
Xiao Jiushi’s expression darkened, waving his sleeve. “Follow.”
“Yes.”

As they traveled northwest through wilderness and villages, the Jiushi Valley group grew increasingly horrified.

Whether in barren fields or populated towns, Fuyu Palace elders and disciples’ corpses littered the path.
At first, they fled chaotically, some sneaking into villages to escape Bixiao’s group, seeking survival—but none escaped death.
Some, flying on swords, were decapitated midair, blood splattering villages, terrifying residents.
Others, hiding in bustling markets, were pierced through the skull, their nascent souls shattering before escape, causing chaos as crowds fled.
Some hid in homes, begging villagers for cover, only to have a sword pierce their hearts mid-plea, their smiling corpses collapsing, blood staining walls, infants wailing, and women fainting…

Across thousands of miles, none survived.
Villages and markets buzzed with cries of “ghostly vengeance” and “worldly reaper,” spreading panic across the northern immortal domain.

Xiao Jiushi dispatched some Jiushi Valley disciples from Qianmen to calm the villagers.

Further northwest, corpses dwindled, but the wind and snow grew harsher.

Led by Yun Yao, silent and pale, she followed the trail of bodies, occasionally adjusting her course.
Upon finding Yuan Songqing, Fuyu Palace’s seventh palace master’s corpse, Yun Yao prepared to mount her sword when a Jiushi Valley elder spoke. “If a cultivator falls to demonic ways, their artifact may sever its spiritual bond.”

“—”
Naihe Sword faltered. Yun Yao glared coldly. “What are you saying?”

Intimidated, the elder retreated without another word.

But beside him, Jiushi Valley’s Elder Wan spoke gravely. “This boy’s nature is ruthless—killing in markets, heedless of bystanders, each strike merciless, leaving no survivors, nearly cruel. My junior brother’s suspicion of demonic influence isn’t baseless.”

Yun Yao’s eyes chilled. “Is Elder Wan blaming Mu Hanyuan for killing Fuyu Palace’s deserving dead, or still pinning Xiao Zhong’s death on him?”

“…!”
At Xiao Zhong’s mention, Elder Wan’s face twisted in fury. “The Sky-Illuminating Mirror’s prophecy was seen by all! You refused to accept it then, Little Martial Uncle—what now?! A demon wreaking havoc, bodies piling up—doesn’t this fulfill Master Sixuan’s words?! Or must we wait for the Qianmen Realm to drown in blood, bones piled to the heavens, both immortal and demonic domains slaughtered by this demon before you admit Mu Hanyuan is the apocalyptic demon seed?!”

Yun Yao’s face paled with shock and anger.

Her anger stemmed from these words condemning Mu Hanyuan as a pariah, but her shock came from recalling her past life—

No.
She believed in this life’s Mu Hanyuan. The changes in that child were evident to her and Qianmen’s disciples. He wouldn’t become the past life’s demon who saw lives as grass.
He wouldn’t.

“I know where Mu Hanyuan and Bixiao are.”

Xiao Jiushi, receiving a message, looked at Yun Yao with concern.

Meeting his gaze, Yun Yao’s heart trembled. “…Where?”

“The northwest’s premier city, Shu City. The Suspended Sword Sect sent a distress message.” Xiao Jiushi’s eyes darkened. “It claims… Qianmen’s Mu Hanyuan has fallen to demonic ways, demonic flames descending, intent on slaughtering the city.”

“…!!”

Naihe Sword let out a trembling cry, carrying the red-robed figure skyward.

—

“The Immortal Court’s Sky-Peering Stone foretold it… Fate is inescapable.”
“You and I were born to bring the three thousand worlds to their end.”

In boundless darkness, the demonic voice, like a curse of fate, echoed in Mu Hanyuan’s soul.

Above Shu City, a colossal blood-red light blade, formed from unmatched spiritual energy, descended with world-destroying force toward the city’s shield.

All in Shu City looked up, seeing the inky figure in the sky, like a demonic god.
In their terrified, frozen gazes, the light and life of the world seemed about to be erased by the blood-red blade.

Until the void paused.

As if an illusion, the blood-red blade was held still for a breath by some heavenly force.
From its tip, milky-white spiritual energy spread like a web, its gentle glow piercing the blood-red, leaving blinding cracks across the blade.

Simultaneously, under the sky obscured by the blade—

“Impossible!”
“Mu Hanyuan’s” menacing eyes were replaced by disbelief. He raised his hand, channeling the Final Ember’s power toward the soul dagger at his heart—

But he was a breath too late.

The starlight-forged dagger was overtaken by pure spiritual energy, melting like snow.

At the same moment, the soul shadow in endless darkness ceased its ferocious struggle. His snow-like face and robes shed their inky stains, reemerging in the dark.

Mu Hanyuan opened his eyes in the darkness, his calm voice echoing in both souls: “So you and I are the Final Ember.”
“…So what?”

“I believe the heavens are fickle, but I reject immutable fate.”

“Even if the Final Ember is fated, I won’t yield—let fate chase me if it dares.”

“The end isn’t set; the heavens are mine to decide.”

—

*Boom!*

The soul dagger in “Mu Hanyuan’s” heart dissolved completely.

In his brow’s sea of consciousness, yin-yang birthed black and white, head and tail entwined, merging in a breath—

Souls swapped, heaven and earth inverted.

The blood-red blade halted above the city’s shield, white cracks spreading across it. With a heaven-shaking roar, it shattered along the fissures—
The blade collapsed, shaking the earth.
Each fragment burned into demonic flame, falling outside the shield like a world-igniting fire.

In the void, Mu Hanyuan’s black robe stilled. He opened his eyes, gazing at the unfamiliar city below.

…Though his soul was suppressed, he had clearly sensed the other “Mu Hanyuan’s” actions.

He diverted the most dangerous flame fragments to a barren wilderness a hundred miles away, but some still fell around the city.

Amid the city’s panic and blazing fires, the light shield opened. Suspended Sword Sect disciples issued orders, using immortal boats and swords to evacuate citizens to safer areas.

In the void, Mu Hanyuan’s black robe left an afterimage as he entered Shu City.

Wen Buyan, seizing the chaos, blended into the fleeing crowd. Stumbling with his severed arm, he saw the city gate mere yards away, his heart pounding with狂喜.
Suddenly, his body froze midair, held by an invisible force.

Only his eyes could move. Wen Buyan, terrified, glanced sideways. Snow-white hair and a pristine robe brushed past him.

A clear, gentle voice, like pearls on jade, spoke.
“Palace Master Wen.”
Once, they had played chess and shared wine. Now, that celestial face was no different from a reaper.

“Save… me…” Wen Buyan choked out a bloodied plea.

“You killed thirty-two Qianmen elders and disciples,” Mu Hanyuan glided before him, turning gracefully, his dark lashes framing eyes both warm and icy. “Your sin is unforgivable.”

His words fell, and he vanished.

As he disappeared at the gate, the crowd watched in horror as thirty-two crisscrossing blood lines appeared on Wen Buyan’s body.

The next moment—
“…*Thud.*”
Like fireworks bursting.

After a dead silence—

“AHHHHH—”

Piercing screams cut through the falling demonic flames, echoing over Shu City.

Twenty breaths later, only one Fuyu Palace elder remained.

The fifth palace master, Duan Songyue.

Trembling, Duan Songyue shuffled toward a wall, unable to stop himself from glancing at the mangled corpse of a fellow elder nearby. One look left him sweating, gasping, and turning away.
“I-I-I… only killed one Foundation Establishment disciple… Even the Immortal Alliance would show leniency… Think, if you kill me… it’s unjust…”

“Only one?” Mu Hanyuan’s gaze was pitying, looking at the cowering man.

“Yes, yes, just one!!” Duan Songyue’s hoarse voice screamed. “Really! He blocked for someone and ran into my sword!”

“Pity.” Mu Hanyuan turned.

Duan Songyue, drenched in sweat, leaned against the wall, not daring to ask further.

But he heard the final words—the last he’d hear in this world—

“Your life isn’t worthy of his.”

“…!”
A blood line split Duan Songyue’s brow downward.

*Thud, thud.*

Two sounds hit the ground behind.

Mu Hanyuan waved his sleeve—

A hundred yards away, across two streets, a burning beam falling toward a crying girl shielded by her mother was diverted to an empty space.

The mother, expecting the fiery pillar, froze in panic and relief, unaware of what happened.
“Mother…” the girl sobbed, looking up. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be, don’t be. Mother’s taking you away!”
“…”

Mu Hanyuan lingered, his fingers clenching under his sleeve. Then, sensing something, he looked up.

Bixiao’s figure was fleeing into the void.

“…”

The sorrow in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes faded, replaced by frosty sharpness.
He rose, about to pursue.

Suddenly—

Above Shu City, a golden net descended, aiming to ensnare him—

“Demon! Surrender!!”

At the eight corners of the vast golden net stood Unity-stage elders of the Suspended Sword Sect.
The net wasn’t mere rope but their sect’s sword array, each golden strand a lethal blade.

Mu Hanyuan’s lashes didn’t flinch, gazing at them. “Three breaths to retreat, and I won’t harm anyone or break the array.”

“Mu Hanyuan! How dare you defy the world?!”
“No more words—capture him!”
“…”

The golden net transformed into countless sword beams, blanketing the sky as it fell.

Mu Hanyuan lowered his sleeve, milky-white spiritual energy flowing like a snowy spring, forming a blood-threaded golden sword.
He waved it lightly.

*Boom—!*

The golden array shattered into light, the eight elders vomiting blood, some retreating dozens of yards, others crashing into the city’s ruins.

Mu Hanyuan’s figure was gone.

“…No!”
The lead elder clutched his chest, looking up hoarsely.

At the sky’s peak—

Mu Hanyuan appeared before the fleeing Bixiao.

Bixiao, tattered and bloodied, his beard a mess, bore no trace of the immortal grace he had a month ago.
Seeing Mu Hanyuan, his terrified eyes burned with deep hatred. “Had I known today…”

Mu Hanyuan ignored his barking, stepping forward to seize Bixiao’s withered neck—

“Qianmen’s hundreds of lives today are on you.”
“How should you die?”

“Mu Hanyuan!” Below, Suspended Sword Sect elders shouted. “Release Bixiao! Your grudge should be judged by the Immortal Alliance! How dare you kill alone?!”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s cold gaze revealed a flicker of hatred.
Looking at Bixiao’s flushed face, he said, “I thought the whole way. No matter how, your death can’t wash away Qianmen’s blood debt.”

Unable to struggle, Bixiao cursed hoarsely, “You’ve fallen to demonic ways, seen by all! The world fears, dreads, doubts, and curses you—a reaper! You’ll die a million times worse!!”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyes chilled. “So what. Fuyu Palace will be buried today.”

“You dare kill me?!”
Bixiao’s veined face twisted into a venomous smile. “Yes, Fuyu Palace is slaughtered, so now—hah… only I can clear your name! If I die, you’re forever the world’s demon! No redemption in a hundred deaths!”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s fingers paused, glancing at the fiery sea below Shu City.

He could forsake his reputation.
But Qianmen, and his Master…

“Hah… you’re scared, aren’t you?!” Bixiao laughed maniacally. “You absorbed the golden lotus— so what? You can’t abandon Qianmen’s ants. How can you become a demon or ascend?!”

“—”
Mu Hanyuan’s fingers tightened, crushing Bixiao’s throat.
His eyes burned with icy hatred. “You dare mention it.”

“What are you… you…” Bixiao felt his life draining as blood-red threads consumed him. “If you don’t want to be the demon reviled by all… beg me to live!”

His words fell.
A sword’s cry pierced the sky, followed by a shout like a great bird’s shadow: “Mu Hanyuan!”

“…”
The blood in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes froze. He turned, seeing the red-robed figure on the horizon.

Bixiao heard it too.
His face turned ferocious, like a starving ghost. “Yes, not just you… Yun Yao wants to protect you, doesn’t she? She’ll kneel before me—!”

The wind stilled, as if a dragon’s scale was plucked.

On Naihe Sword, Yun Yao’s face changed. “No!!”

*Crack.*

Bixiao’s venomous smile froze on his aged face.
From his throat downward, he cracked like a spiderweb.

In an instant, he turned to ash, his soul extinguished.