Whispers of the Jade Saber

"To erase a name is to kill it twice—first in history, then in memory."

---

The silver-eyed man's boots made no sound as he stepped onto the grass of the grove.

But the trees bent.

The wind knelt.

And the air grew heavy—as if time itself held its breath.

Lin Feng gripped the Ashen Saber, the blade humming restlessly at his back.

He recognized that sword—the way it pulsed like a living scroll—and the aura that accompanied it: cold, absolute, deliberate.

> The weapon was no ordinary artifact.

It was a Chronoblade, a forbidden relic from the Age of Silencing.

A weapon that could cut through time, not just flesh.

Tian Mian staggered back. "That can't be—"

But Lin Feng had already said the name.

> "Jian Mu… the Time-Scribe of the First Order."

---

Jian Mu smiled faintly. "So I'm not completely forgotten. Pity. I worked hard to vanish from memory."

Jun Feilan stepped forward, spear tip ready. "You're from the Celestial Scriptorium? The ones who erase people like library dust?"

"Wrong," Jian Mu said. "We erase people who threaten the balance."

His eyes turned to Lin Feng.

"You weren't supposed to survive the valley."

"You weren't supposed to awaken the Saber."

"And you certainly weren't supposed to give a name to the soul that defied Heaven's ruling."

He stepped closer, dragging the Chronoblade gently through the grass. Everywhere it passed, names burned away—tiny flower petals with characters curled into ash.

Liang Yue stood beside Lin Feng now.

"I'm not Lianhua anymore," she said clearly. "You can't erase me for a life that already ended."

"But you carry her echoes," Jian Mu replied. "The Archive confirmed it."

He looked to Lin Feng.

"And you—bear a bloodline so old the heavens tried to silence it before it ever began."

Tian Mian gasped. "His bloodline—?"

Jian Mu didn't wait.

With a flash of light, he struck.

---

Lin Feng parried with the Ashen Saber—barely.

The collision didn't make a sound.

Instead, the world blinked—a moment of stillness so total that everyone else in the grove was frozen mid-breath.

Lin Feng looked around. Even Liang Yue's frozen form flickered, paused like a suspended flame.

He and Jian Mu now stood in a Time-Lock, a sealed domain where the world held no sway.

Jian Mu tilted his head.

> "Your Saber has memory. Mine—cancels it."

He struck again.

And Lin Feng saw pieces of his life peeling away.

The day his grandfather taught him to climb trees.

The time he built his first bamboo training staff.

His first cultivation scroll.

Gone.

> Just… gone.

The Saber pulsed wildly in his grip, struggling to anchor him.

> "You must remember who you are," it whispered.

Lin Feng gritted his teeth.

"I remember."

He swung wide—his blade leaving a trail of flame-inscribed memories behind it, burning like banners across time.

He countered the Chronoblade's precision with raw intent.

> A Slash of Origin.

Jian Mu reeled—but not from the blow.

From the fact that Lin Feng's strike burned a name into the sky:

LIN FENG.

---

Outside the Time-Lock, the grove trembled.

The other Scriptorium agents recoiled. One of them muttered, "He's… stabilizing a fate-path?"

"No," Shi Qian said softly. "He's writing himself."

---

Within the lock, Jian Mu scowled. "You should not be able to inscribe yourself. You're an anomaly."

"I'm not an anomaly," Lin Feng growled. "I'm what comes after your order."

He slammed his blade downward—and the lock shattered.

Time resumed.

Wind roared. Trees cracked.

Everyone flew back as Jian Mu landed on one knee, coughing ash.

But he didn't rise.

He smiled.

> "Then… the seal has truly broken."

> "They'll come next. The Celestial Court. And they won't just try to erase your name."

> "They'll try to erase the world that remembers you."

With that, Jian Mu raised a finger.

And unwrote himself.

He vanished—not into death.

But into non-existence.

No blood. No bones. No remains.

Only a space where he had been.

Jun whispered, "He erased himself… just to keep us from questioning him?"

Tian Mian turned pale. "No. He erased himself… to mark us."

---

Above, the clouds tore open.

A celestial sigil flared in the sky—shaped like a pen broken in two.

It hung over the grove like a judgment bell.

And from it descended a single petal.

Black.

Burning.

Marked.

Liang Yue stepped beside Lin Feng.

"We just got declared anomalies… globally."

Lin Feng looked at her.

"Good," he said.

"We'll remind the world what it means to write your own name."

"You don't destroy the world by shattering mountains. You do it by erasing its memory."

---

The grove was dead quiet after Jian Mu vanished.

No birds. No wind.

Even the spirit beasts that usually roamed the outer forest had gone still—frozen by the weight of cosmic authority.

The black-burning petal from the sky landed gently at Lin Feng's feet.

And even that sound—soft as falling ash—was deafening.

Jun Feilan approached slowly, spear lowered. "What… what does that mean? That symbol in the sky?"

Tian Mian answered, his voice grave. "It's the Heavenly Seal of Correction. A divine writ issued only when the celestial records are broken beyond the Scriptorium's capacity to repair."

Shi Qian added, "And the black lotus petal? That means you are not just marked for erasure. You're marked as a seed of contamination. A spreader of forgotten truths."

Lin Feng picked up the petal. It burned him. But he didn't flinch.

"I don't care how they name me," he said.

"I'm done letting Heaven write my story."

He turned to Liang Yue, who still stood beneath the tree where her Flame-Lotus sigil glowed faintly on her back.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Liang Yue looked down at her hands.

They trembled.

But not with fear.

With power.

"I can feel her," she whispered. "Lianhua. Or rather… what she left behind."

Shi Qian approached, eyes narrowing with academic hunger. "Do you feel memories? Feelings? Techniques?"

"All of it," Liang Yue said. "But not completely. It's like… a sealed book in a language I almost remember."

Shi Qian's eyes gleamed. "Then there's only one place left to go."

Lin Feng looked at her. "Where?"

Shi answered:

> "The Lotus Vault. Hidden beneath the Ashwater Mountains. The last recorded domain of Lianhua's original Dao."

Jun frowned. "That's suicide. The Celestial Court patrols that entire range. You two are already marked. Going there is like waving a red banner at dragons."

Shi shrugged. "Yes. But also…"

She looked at Lin Feng.

"…it's the only place the heavens can't rewrite."

Tian Mian nodded slowly. "The Lotus Vault predates the Flame Tribunal. It was built by cultivators who broke free from heavenly records. It might be dangerous, but it's beyond their reach."

Liang Yue stepped forward. "Then we go."

---

That night, under a sky choked with starlight, the group prepared to move.

Tian Mian dug through his scrolls. "There's an ancient pathway—the Ash Vein Path—it cuts through the mountains below the Court's high orbit zones."

Jun sighed. "Of course it's a death path."

Shi added, "It's also where soul beasts that feed on memory roam freely."

Tian gave Lin Feng a serious look. "The Lotus Vault will test you. Not with monsters. Not with traps."

"But with the weight of everything Heaven made you forget."

Lin Feng nodded. "Let it come."

---

As they left the grove, the sky shimmered once again.

But this time, they were watching.

Above them, in the folds of clouds, stood a pair of golden-robed figures, half-transparent, ethereal.

Celestial Wardens.

Messengers of the Court.

Their eyes glowed like fireless suns.

They didn't speak. Didn't move.

They simply observed.

Waiting.

Judging.

---

"Why aren't they attacking?" Jun whispered, tightening her grip on her spear.

"Because," Tian Mian answered quietly, "they're not allowed to interfere directly—yet. But once you enter the Vault, all bets are off."

Lin Feng looked up.

And for a moment, the sky looked back.

He didn't flinch.

Just turned away.

---

As the party vanished into the shadows of the mountains, the petal that had burned his palm finally dissolved—

Its last ember whispering a message only he could hear:

> "One more step… and you stop being a name."

> You become a myth… or a mistake."

---

He looked to Liang Yue beside him.

Their hands brushed—lightly.

She whispered, "Let's make sure it's the first."

---

End of Chapter 36