Thirteenth month of death

Chapter 257 The Secret of Many Years
The air inside the ice palace seemed to freeze.

The moment the Cold Marrow Needle melted in Li Daosheng's palm, the Xuanbing Palace Master's face turned deathly pale.

The disciples behind her had already drawn their swords, the icy blades reflecting a cold blue light, causing the temperature in the entire hall to plummet, and even their breath to freeze into frost.

"Please hear me out."

Su Moshi stepped forward, a bronze mirror hovering in front of him, its azure light flowing out like water, drawing a dividing line between the two.

Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

“Palace Master, there is more to this matter than meets the eye. You are already aware of the massacre of the Supreme Heaven of Separation. This was not my doing, but rather the work of the Evil Eye. Li Daosheng helped me exorcise the demon, but now he still has evil energy within him. He was coerced by Wudao to take his magic weapon.”

"Wu Dao is still alive?" The Xuanbing Palace Master's gaze fell on Su Moshi.

Su Moshi nodded: "Therefore, keeping these Cold Marrow Needles is also a potential problem."

The Xuanbing Palace Master's gaze shifted between the two men before finally settling on the long mark between Li Daosheng's brows.

The mark seemed to be affected by the newly inserted Cold Marrow Needle, and was now glowing with a faint blue light, exactly the same color as the Cold Marrow Needle.

“It’s him…” she murmured softly, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes, “You may all leave.”

The Palace Master of Xuanbing waved his hand, signaling his disciples to step back.

Once only three people remained in the main hall, she slowly stepped down from the ice seat. Her long, white robe trailed across the crystalline floor without making a sound.

Li Daosheng stood still, two forces within his body clashing fiercely—the heat of the Blood Jade Bead and the coldness of the Cold Marrow Needle.

His consciousness alternated between lucidity and confusion, with fragments of indiscriminate memories constantly flooding in, like an endless dream.

"Come with me."

She led the two through a hidden ice door into a small, secret room.

The four walls are covered with ancient characters, and an irregular ice crystal floats in the center, inside which blooms a white lotus that seems to never wither.

"This is the secret chamber of the Xuanbing Palace. I know your question." The Palace Master lightly touched the ice crystal with his fingertip, and the white lotus slowly bloomed, emitting a soft light. "Su Daozi, you want to ask what exactly happened in the Supreme Heaven of Separation and Hatred, is that right?"

Su Moshi nodded silently.

"We do know the reason."

“The spiritual energy in the Mountain and Sea Realm is disappearing.” Her voice was low. “Just like in the human realm, the spiritual energy thins out with each passing day.”

The long scar between Li Daosheng's brows suddenly stung, and a scene flashed through Wudao's fragmented memories—countless fine golden threads were drawn from the depths of the earth and converged on some unknown place.

"The five major immortal sects were the first to notice this matter," the palace master continued. "One of the sources of spiritual energy loss is the evil eye that the Supreme Heaven of Separation from Hatred suppressed underground within the sect."

Su Moshi's pupils contracted slightly: "That's why the sect opened the seal..."

"Indeed," the Palace Master sighed. "They originally wanted to investigate the truth behind the loss of spiritual energy, but they didn't expect that the Evil Eye had already mutated, which led to this disaster."

The temperature inside the sealed room seemed even lower, and the white breath Li Daosheng exhaled condensed into tiny ice crystals in the air.

“Even more disturbing,” the Palace Master said, tracing the surface of the ice crystal with his fingertip, the white lotus suddenly shining brightly, “the last message from the Supreme Heaven of Separation and Hatred indicates that someone is stealing the power of this world’s origin.”

"This is also the source of the loss of spiritual energy."

Li Daosheng suddenly knelt on one knee, and a blinding blue light burst forth from the long mark between his eyebrows.

The Blood Jade Bead and the Cold Marrow Needle clashed fiercely within his body, and Wudao's memories surged like a tide.

He saw some images—

In the boundless void, countless golden threads were drawn from various worlds, converging into a surging river that flowed toward a vague outline in the depths of darkness.

The outline was neither human nor inhuman, with twelve faintly rotating lights behind it.

"Li Daosheng?" Su Moshi supported his swaying body, and the bronze mirror's blue light enveloped the two of them.

The Palace Master of Xuanbing Palace showed a strange expression: "You can see it too, can't you?"

Li Daosheng struggled to lift his head, his voice hoarse: "I saw it... someone is indeed devouring the origin of the world..."

The palace master strode forward and placed a palm on his forehead: "Calm down!" The biting coldness surged into his palm, temporarily suppressing the two restless magical treasures.

Li Daosheng breathed a sigh of relief, and the blue light between his brows gradually subsided.

"Thank you." He struggled to his feet.

The Palace Master withdrew his hand, his expression complex: "Only now do we understand what Wudao meant back then."

Li Daosheng and Su Moshi exchanged a glance. Could it be that Wudao had already sensed it back then?
The Palace Master of Xuanbing Palace turned and walked to the other side of the secret chamber, brushing away the frost on the wall to reveal a hidden mural—

In the painting, a blurry figure stands among countless shattered stars.

The most bizarre thing is that twelve suns and moons are floating behind this figure.

"This is a prophecy left by Wudao." The Palace Master gently touched the mural. "Back then, he was a genius, but he forcibly seized the secrets that various sects kept hidden, and then gave them a magical treasure as compensation. He said..."

The Palace Master of Xuanbing pointed to the mural: "He discovered a thief who stole the heavens, but he was no match for him. That's why he learned from everyone and wanted to fight him."

Su Moshi stared at the mural, a bitter smile on his face: "Back then, who believed his crazy words? They were all forced to take away the sect's secret manuals after a great battle with him."

"Looking back now, it's clear that he didn't take anyone's life back then."

Li Daosheng and Su Moshi had already thought of Wudao's challenge to [Thirteen Months].

Could this be related?

"I have placed a restriction on this Cold Marrow Needle. It will slowly erode your body and soul. Come here and let me remove it."

As soon as he finished speaking, the characters on the walls of the secret room suddenly lit up, enveloping Li Daosheng.

He felt a cool power seep into his body, suppressing the restless Cold Marrow Needles and Blood Jade Beads.

At the same time, a piercing chill flowed out from the long mark between his eyebrows.

Finally... Li Daosheng breathed a sigh of relief, and the color of the long mark between his eyebrows returned to normal, no longer ice blue.

"Alright, you can leave now. Return this item to Wudao." The Palace Master stopped looking at Li Daosheng, as if seeing his face would remind him of that person. "Su Daozi, we need to talk about the matter of the Supreme Heaven of Separation and Hatred in private."

Su Moshi looked at Li Daosheng, who nodded: "I'll go out for a walk first."

After Li Daosheng left, Su Moshi, who admired the Xuanbing Palace Master, remained silent for a long time.

"Su Daozi, this is a cataclysmic calamity..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Li Daosheng walked alone in the Xuanbing Palace.

No one stopped him, and no one guided him.

He just glanced at it.

Yet, memories also accumulate during these walks.

Countless years ago, the Xuanbing Palace was shrouded in snow and wind.

A white-clad man who looked exactly like him stood in front of the palace gate, his Frost Marrow Needle transforming into thousands of ice crystals.

"This needle is for apology purposes. If the matter is successful, it will be given to your clan. If it is unsuccessful... someone will come to collect it at that time."

The memory stops abruptly.

Li Daosheng's heart was pounding like a drum.

Those were Wudao's memories. He had gotten used to Wudao's memories popping into his mind from time to time, but what truly terrified him was that sentence.

If it doesn't work out... someone will come and take it then.

Could it be that he planned this day many years ago?

Unprincipled...

(End of this chapter)