“Wei Wuxian has died. What a relief!”
Barely two days had passed since the siege on Burial Mounds, but the news of his death spread all throughout the cultivation world like it had grown wings, flying far faster than the fires of war.
In the blink of an eye, whether they were a rogue cultivator or from a famous clan, everyone was discussing the four great cultivation sects who’d led the siege along with the hundreds of other participating clans, both big and small.
“Oh yes, what a relief indeed! Who was the noble hero who killed the Yiling Laozu?”
“Who else could it be? His shidi, that little Jiang Sect Leader, Jiang Cheng. He led the four great sects – Yunmeng Jiang, Lanling Jin, Gusu Lan, and Qinghe Nie – and together, in the name of justice, they put an end to Wei Wuxian and wiped out his home at the Burial Mounds.”
“I have to say: it was executed well.”
At that, someone clapped and yelled: “I agree, he executed him well indeed! If it wasn’t for Yunmeng Jiang taking him in and raising him, in this life Wei Ying would’ve been a useless, nameless, good-for-nothing… What else is there to say? The late Jiang Sect Leader raised him like his own son, but he callously abandoned them. He chose to make himself an enemy of the people, putting the Yunmeng Jiang name to shame, and even caused the near massacre of the Jiang family. How else would you describe ‘biting the hand that feeds you’? This is it!”
“Jiang Cheng actually let that arrogant servant stick around for so long – if it were me, I wouldn’t have punished that Wei nobody with just one blow back when he first defected. I would’ve put an end to him right then and there, so he wouldn’t have a chance to later do all those cruel and perverse things. With these types of people, what does it matter if you were raised in the same sect as childhood friends?”
“But what I heard was different? Wasn’t it because Wei Ying suffered backlash from his malevolent arts that he was torn up and eaten by his subordinate, the Ghost General? I heard he was still alive when he was ripped into pieces.”
“Ha! It’s what he deserves. I’ve always said that Ghost General of his is like a rabid dog, biting anyone it sees. He deserved to be bitten to death by his own dog!”
“Maybe, but it’s hard to say if the siege on Burial Mounds would’ve been successful without that little Jiang Sect Leader, and his strategy around the Yiling Laozu’s weaknesses. Don’t forget what Wei Wuxian had in his hands– he annihilated at least three thousand cultivators in just that night.”
“Wasn’t it five thousand?”
“Three thousand, five thousand, what does it matter? It’s all the same. And I feel like five thousand is more likely.”
“He truly is a heartless madman.”
“It’s a good thing he destroyed the Yin Tiger Seal before he died, too. Who knows what disasters that cursed thing would’ve wrought otherwise, making his sins so much heavier?”
At the mention of the “Yin Tiger Seal,” everyone fell silent.
After a moment:
“Ah… If we want to talk about this Wei Wuxian, he used to be such a famous young master of the cultivation clans. It’s not like he had a bad reputation. He was such a handsome and talented cultivator once. How exactly did he end up down this path…?”
At this change of topic, debate stirred up once again.
“Then you can see that there’s no other path of cultivation that works, except for the right one. To go down the crooked path so he can drag out a moment of glory for an eternity, isn’t that too arrogant? And, ha, look how it ended!”
A shout: “To die without even a corpse!”
“But you can’t blame it on his cultivation path, either. At the end of the day, this Wei Wuxian is a rotten person who did nothing but make people resent him. As they say, you reap what you sow. What comes around goes around…”
Now that he was dead, judgment had passed. Conversations about him echoed each other in vast agreement, with any notion of dissent immediately suppressed.
But in everyone’s heart was a shadow of a doubt that could not be waved away.
Though it was said that the Yiling Laozu Wei Wuxian died at the Burial Mounds, after everything was over, no one could summon his wretched soul.
Perhaps his soul had been torn apart, devoured by his tens of thousands of ghosts. Perhaps it had escaped.
If it was the former, then that was naturally a cause for celebration. But the Yiling Laozu was capable of extraordinary destruction, able to move mountains and drain the seas – or, at least, that was how the rumors went. Resisting a soul summoning would not have been beyond his ability. If he came back to life once more to regain his glory, his cruelty and bloodthirst would be redoubled. All the cultivation sects would have to pay the price for the reign of terror and dark days he would unleash upon them – and the world.
Thus, they placed one hundred and twenty guardian beast statues behind the peak of Burial Mounds. Various large clans conducted frequent rituals to summon souls, while at the same time staying alert for all mentions of abnormal incidences and keeping records of them.
In the first year, it was peaceful.
In the second year, it was peaceful.
In the third year, it was peaceful.
In the thirteenth year, it was still peaceful.
By then, more and more people began to believe that perhaps Wei Wuxian really wasn’t that great after all. Perhaps his immortal soul truly was extinguished.
Even if he had once been so powerful he could create clouds with the turn of one hand and rain with the turn of another, finally the day had come for him to be overturned himself.
No one will be worshipped forever. Legends are just legends, after all.