Senior sister, stop working and go home for dinner.

Chapter 354 Time Gains Weight

Three days. Five days.

Time suddenly gained weight, becoming heavy and suffocating.

Chen Anran gripped the Imperial Sword tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand. He stared at Lu Kong, then abruptly turned to the pool of slowly swirling dark blood.

"Destroy it." His voice was hoarse, filled with an almost insane obsession. "I'll destroy this pool right now, sever this formation. What earth vein essence, what spiritual energy rampage—I don't fucking care!"

The Imperial Sword was slowly raised, its tip pointing towards the blood pool.

"Junior Brother."

Wei Qingyi's voice was very calm, so calm that it didn't sound like someone who had just been sentenced to death.

Chen Anran didn't turn around; the tip of his sword moved forward another inch.

"Junior Brother."

This time it was Feng Xiaolu. Her voice was still trembling with sobs, a little hoarse, but very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Chen Anran's hand holding the sword paused.

A hand gently pressed on his wrist, which was gripping the sword. The fingers were icy cold, but the pressure was steady.

Wei Qingyi had somehow walked up to his side. She didn't look at him; her gaze fell on the dark red blood droplets at the edge of the blood pool. After a while, she looked away and then at the ancient, mottled patterns on the stone chamber walls.

"Three days," she began, her voice flat, as if she were talking about something unrelated to herself, "but it's actually quite long."

Chen Anran abruptly turned to look at her, her eyes filled with bloodshot: "Second Senior Sister!"

"I remember when we were little," Feng Xiaolu suddenly interrupted Chen Anran. She walked over and stood on the other side of Chen Anran, reaching out to carefully tug at the sleeve of his other free hand, "In winter, it was cold in the mountains, and the three of us would squeeze into Senior Sister's room, around that small charcoal brazier. Senior Sister would roast sweet potatoes for us, and she would always give you the softest and sweetest part of the core."

She sniffed, her face still wet with tears, but she forced a smile, her eyes curving like two tiny crescent moons.

"Back then, I thought, 'Junior Brother is so lucky.'" Feng Xiaolu's voice was soft. "Now I think, 'Junior Brother is so tired.'"

Chen Anran's throat tightened, and all the anger and roar that rushed to her lips were suddenly blocked.

"Put the sword down," Wei Qingyi said. She tightened her grip on his wrist slightly, not to force him, but simply to remind him. Then she withdrew her hand, bent down, picked up her fallen peach wood sword, and brushed away a speck of dust from the blade. "It's strangely heavy to hold."

She paused, then looked up at Chen Anran. Her cold eyes, reflecting the dim light of the blood pool, softened strangely.

"Instead of getting angry, why not..." she looked away, "...think about what to eat these next few days."

Chen Anran was completely stunned.

The tip of the Imperial Sword drooped down little by little, and finally, with a "clang," it gently struck the ground.

He glanced at Wei Qingyi, who was adjusting her cuffs with her head down, then at Feng Xiaolu, whose hand was still gripping his sleeve. She looked up at him, her eyes red, but the corners of her mouth were turned up, like a child waiting for praise.

There was no fear, no resentment, no questioning of why it was them, and no pleading with him to come up with a solution.

They simply...accepted it.

Anger is like a punctured balloon, hissing and leaking air, leaving only a dull, empty pain with nowhere to go.

"Second Senior Sister, Third Senior Sister..." Chen Anran's voice was terribly hoarse.

"Let's go." Feng Xiaolu loosened her grip on his sleeve, then grabbed his hand and gently pulled him away. "It's so stuffy in here, and it smells like blood."

Wei Qingyi also turned around, put the peach wood sword back into her spatial ring, and took the lead in walking towards the entrance of the stone chamber, her steps were slow and her back straight.

"Wait," Chen Anran said in a hoarse voice.

He bent down, picked up the Imperial Sword again, and held it in his hand, but no longer pointed it at anything. He glanced one last time at the blood pool, then at Lu Kong kneeling silently to the side, his eyes filled with complex and unfathomable emotions.

Then he turned around and followed Wei Qingyi and Feng Xiaolu.

Huiming, with a hint of sorrow in his expression, uttered "Amitabha" and followed.

Finally, Lu Kong silently got up and followed behind them.

Stepping out of the stone chamber, through the study piled high with ancient books, and climbing the long stone steps, when I pushed open the wooden door to Su Wan's bedroom, the outside was still filled with that same gray, solidified light and thick, impenetrable fog.

Feng Xiaolu stopped at the door, glanced back at the room, her gaze sweeping over the canopy bed, the incense burner by the window, and all the familiar furnishings before gently closing the door.

"The senior sister's calming incense is almost used up," she said softly, as if talking to herself.

………………

The sky was filled with billowing fog.

With a gentle wave of his hand, Chen Anran dispelled the mist, restoring a clear, cloudless sky. However, all the spiritual energy in the world vanished, leaving not a single drop.

Now all the spiritual energy in the world has been sealed, or rather, it has been controlled by Chen Anran.

Despite gaining such power, Chen Anran was not happy.

Chen Anran stood at the mountain gate, gazing at the faint outline of the resort in the distance, and remained silent for a long time.

"Land and air".

"Disciple is here," Lu Kong replied with a bow.

"You guard the mountain gate." Chen Anran's voice was calm, revealing no emotion. "From this day forward, no one is allowed to enter the mountain. Xiao Ling'er, Lin Xiaoman, Zhao Mengmeng, Fatty Li... everyone is the same."

He paused, then added, "Just say I'm in seclusion and the sect is temporarily closed."

Lu Kong looked up at him, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he lowered his head and said, "Disciple obeys."

Huiming, who was standing nearby, also said, "Master, this humble monk will go to the side hall first. Please feel free to give any instructions if needed."

Chen Anran nodded, said no more, and turned back into the sect.

The mountain gate slowly closed behind us, the heavy sound echoing through the silent forest after the mist dissipated, finally settling into a dull "click".

Chen Anran did not turn around.

He walked up the familiar mountain path. Wei Qingyi walked half a step behind him, while Feng Xiaolu held his hand and followed on his other side. Huiming and Lu Kong remained at the mountain gate, like two silent guardian statues, watching the three of them walk away into the distance.

The afternoon sun was lovely. After the mist dissipated, the sky was a clear, deep blue, with wisps of thin clouds hanging like silken threads. The birds in the woods began to chirp again, their calls clear and tentative, one or two at a time, gradually blending into a chorus. The wind rustled through the bamboo forest, carrying a soft, whispering sound that mingled with the faint murmur of water from a distant mountain stream.

Everything was the same as usual.

There was no trace of spiritual energy circulating between heaven and earth.

Besides the two people beside me, one only has three days left and the other only five days left.

Chen Anran's steps were steady, each step landing on the stone steps with a soft "tap, tap" sound.

Feng Xiaolu held his hand; her fingers were a little cold. She didn't speak, but simply followed him, her eyes darting around—to the sect's buildings, the stone slabs in the plaza, and the outlines of the distant mountains. She looked intently, as if trying to etch every detail into her mind.