Chapter 57: One Dead, One Mad

He looked toward the courtyard gate, his heart churning with an endless, overwhelming fear. Tie Ming also drew in a sharp breath, turning his head. At that moment, Huan Yue had already hung the calligraphy at the entrance of the small courtyard.

After Dou Tai’s harrowing experience, Tie Ming dared not even glance at the calligraphy. He fixed his gaze on Huan Yue instead and asked, “Huan Yue, the master you all speak of—who exactly… who is he?”

Even now, he was still gripped by terror. Just four simple characters on a piece of paper had driven a Supreme to madness—how could anyone not feel afraid?

Huan Yue was watching Dou Tai’s crazed figure recede into the distance; she herself was somewhat shaken. Their master had only said he wanted to have a discussion with them, and this was the result of such a discussion? Indeed, following her teacher closely was the only truly safe place.

“I’m afraid it’s best if you never learn his identity,” Huan Yue said, a complex look flickering in her eyes as she regarded Tie Ming.

With that, she turned back and closed the small courtyard’s gate.

“Stop right there! Who said you could leave?” Tie Ming called out in alarm as he saw Huan Yue about to leave, but now he dared not set foot inside, let alone try to stop her by force.

After all, within those walls dwelled someone capable of driving a Supreme to insanity!

With that thought, Tie Ming’s mind went blank, unable to comprehend what he was facing. A forbidden place in the Nanling Mountains, a seemingly ordinary little village, hiding a being of unimaginable power—it was beyond anything they could have conceived.

As Tie Ming raised his head, a flute’s note drifted out from within the courtyard.

The sound was clear and bright!

Tie Ming’s whole body trembled as he stared at the courtyard door, his face frozen in a daze.

…

Huan Yue had just stepped back into the courtyard when the flute’s melody began to flow.

Inside, Zhu Xiaoyuan held a jade flute horizontally and began to play.

No one knew what material the flute was made from, but it looked pure and flawless—pleasing to the eye and even more so in Zhu Xiaoyuan’s hands. At the end of the flute, two neat characters were engraved: “Divine Music.”

The flute’s clear notes poured forth from Zhu Xiaoyuan’s lips, and to urge those outside to leave of their own accord, he had chosen a bold, forthright tune.

Ruofeng stared at Zhu Xiaoyuan, her ears filled with the flute’s music, quietly absorbing the profound mysteries within.

After all, all forms of music share a common essence. Though Ruofeng played the zither, she could still sense the depths of this melody.

Great rivers surged forth. Ruofeng felt as if she had become a gust of wind drifting over a mighty river, then transformed into a tiny boat upon its surface—so insignificant, so small—while the waters pressed her ever onward and the waves crashed incessantly upon the shore.

The river seemed to be telling a story, roaring and murmuring all at once…

The entire world of rivers and lakes surged with grand vitality, and Ruofeng was utterly lost within it.

Within the small courtyard, the pond lay silent, the chickens huddled low to the ground. The immortal peach tree stretched its limbs, its fruits swelling and reddening with each passing moment. Even the garden and well water seemed to overflow with a presence too intense to look upon directly.

The flute’s music seemed to set everything around it dancing.

Outside the courtyard, Tie Ming’s eyes were wide open, his mind emptied of all thought, his grip on his own flute loosening until it fell to the ground with a clatter.

This… this was the ultimate limit of music!

“The limit… the limit…” Tie Ming muttered over and over, for the music pouring from the flute was like a small world unto itself. Within that world, he was but a tiny spray adrift in a vast river, powerless to resist.

Suddenly, the melody within the courtyard shifted.

The sound of crashing waves, which had been pounding the shore with wild abandon, faded into stillness. A profound silence enveloped everything.

The waves vanished, and tranquility filled the land.

Tie Ming felt his mind empty out, and he instantly vanished from where he stood.

His entire being seemed to dissolve into smoke without substance, or perhaps a colorless cloud—whatever he had been, he was no more.

All that remained was the flute lying at his feet.

Zhu Xiaoyuan lowered his flute.

Silence reigned.

“Master! Master!” Zhu Xin had been watching the whole time. She called out, trembling, but the only answer was a profound and unbroken silence.

Tie Ming had vanished without a trace; no one answered her cries.

“What is happening? What on earth just happened?” Zhu Xin’s voice quavered, panic gripping her as she clutched Haoming and demanded an answer.

Haoming’s face was ashen as he stared at the flute on the ground. “If I’m not mistaken, Master—Supreme Tie Ming—he… he seems to have… attained dissolution…”

Dissolution?

Zhu Xin had never witnessed such a thing before, and Haoming’s words left her utterly stunned.

Dissolution meant that Supreme Tie Ming had vanished completely from this world, never to appear again!

But… as far as she knew, dissolution only occurred when a Supreme’s life had run its course and there was no hope of further advancement.

Yet Tie Ming was nothing like that—he was still young, with a long road ahead. In fact, the Sacred Land of Kongjue had even said Supreme Tie Ming might ascend to immortality!

So why… why had he dissolved?

All he had done was listen to a melody from within the courtyard, linger a little longer in its sound…

“I cannot imagine what sort of being dwells within this courtyard! Our masters are Supremes, yet now one has gone mad and another is dead…”

Words failed them, the confusion and terror in their hearts too much to bear.

Haoming turned and left a single phrase behind before fleeing without another word.

He shouted, “Run!”

“Wait for me!” Zhu Xin’s mind was in chaos; seeing Haoming already far ahead, she hurried after him, not daring to linger.

The flute that had belonged to Tie Ming lay abandoned at the courtyard entrance—no one dared approach to retrieve it.

Within the courtyard, Zhu Xiaoyuan’s piece ended, its lingering echoes still resonant.

“I imagine they’ve already gone,” he said, putting away his flute with a smile.

Ruofeng, still stunned, nodded absentmindedly, unable to recover from the spell of Zhu Xiaoyuan’s music.

Huan Yue, meanwhile, went to open the courtyard gate.

The entrance was empty—no one in sight, only a flute lying at the threshold.

What could this mean?

Huan Yue glanced at the flute on the ground. It was Supreme Tie Ming’s treasured instrument, and by rights, it should never have left his side. Now, only the flute remained, its master nowhere to be found.