Xie Gutang wasn’t originally called Xie Gutang. His surname was Yang, given name Shangyu. He was the child of a local official in a small mortal realm town.

At that time, demonic seeds were wreaking havoc in the cultivation world. Everywhere was in turmoil, and the common people’s lives were unbearable. In the area under his father’s jurisdiction, they happened to encounter a demonic cultivator infected with demonic seeds who went mad and tried to massacre the city. His father sought help from Heavenly Sword Sect.

At that time, Heavenly Sword Sect’s sect master Luo Bufan was still just a junior in the sect. He was ordered to go rescue people. When he arrived at the Yang family and saved everyone, he heard Xie Gutang’s mother cry out in pain: “Shangyu? Where’s Shangyu?”

Everyone searched everywhere. Finally, Luo Bufan found Xie Gutang in a wardrobe.

When he opened the wardrobe door and saw this child, he found the child’s expression calm, his entire being cold as falling snow, holding a sword, sitting quietly without a word, as if he knew nothing, yet also as if he knew everything.

With just one glance, Luo Bufan knew this child had extraordinary bones—he must be a sword-practicing genius.

So Luo Bufan asked Xie Gutang’s parents for their opinion. With the Yang family’s support, he brought Xie Gutang back to Heavenly Sword Sect.

Upon returning to Heavenly Sword Sect and testing Xie Gutang’s spiritual roots, they discovered this was a genius with Heaven-grade ice spiritual roots. The various peaks of Heavenly Sword Sect came to compete for this child, while Xie Gutang stood on the ground, his expression steady, not speaking a word.

After the peaks competed for a long time, suddenly a cold voice came from the elder’s seat that had always been empty: “This child,” when that voice emerged, everyone fell silent, then heard the other party say without any room for negotiation, “come to the Boundary Between Life and Death.”

Everyone was shocked. After a long time, someone looked at him steadily and nodded: “Indeed a good seedling for cultivating the Heart-Questioning Sword.”

From then on, this phrase surrounded Xie Gutang’s childhood.

From a young age, he had no expressions and didn’t like to talk much. He appeared indifferent to things around him. Whatever adults taught, he did.

All his senses were very dull. When people took his things, he didn’t much care. When teachers scolded him, he didn’t feel sad either.

At Heavenly Sword Sect, before age eight, all children studied the same cultivation method together. He attended class with everyone. His perpetually cold and indifferent appearance made all the children very curious. Initially, children would think he was a weirdo. At such times, teachers would step forward to protect him, telling everyone that was because he was the future direct disciple of the Heart-Questioning Sword lineage—that’s just how the Heart-Questioning Sword was.

The children didn’t understand. The teachers explained.

Heavenly Sword Sect’s cultivation methods came from the same source, but their sword techniques were two completely different schools.

The Passionate Sword was practiced by ordinary disciples, following normal cultivation methods.

But the Heart-Questioning Sword required putting down all worldly distractions, exploring the true meaning of the Heavenly Dao, with no self and no sentient beings in one’s heart.

The children understood and asked the teacher: “Does that mean, even though we grow up together, Shangyu won’t become friends with us?”

Hearing this, Xie Gutang’s movements paused. The teacher’s expression stiffened, then he smiled: “Focus on sword practice. Why ask so much?”

The teacher didn’t answer directly, but these words spread.

Everyone knew he was an emotionless monster. No matter how much one gave, there would never be any emotional reciprocation in the future.

When he was seven, a junior martial brother who’d grown up with them mistakenly entered the back mountain and was devoured by a demonic beast. When the body was carried back, the study hall became a sea of tears.

This junior brother had a very good temperament and often shared small snacks with everyone. He was also one of the few who were close to Xie Gutang.

Among the children’s crying, only Xie Gutang sat in place. He seemed somewhat bewildered, wanting to do something but not knowing what to do.

His abnormality drew others’ attention. A disciple who’d been on good terms with that junior brother stood up and shouted: “Shangyu! Wang Xiao was so good to you. Now he’s gone—don’t you feel anything at all?!”

Xie Gutang stared blankly at that disciple. He couldn’t speak.

A disciple beside him sighed, sobbing as he came to Xie Gutang’s defense: “Yang Ping, don’t make things difficult for Shangyu. He cultivates the Heart-Questioning Sword. He doesn’t understand.”

Xie Gutang opened his mouth. He wanted to defend himself somehow, but ultimately couldn’t make a sound.

From that day on, truly no one ever opened their heart to him again.

Xie Gutang lived alone in a courtyard. In the morning when he got up, he faced the mirror. He very seriously wanted to make expressions. He recalled how others looked, bit by bit lifting the corners of his mouth, bit by bit furrowing his brow.

Actually, they were right—he didn’t understand.

He returned to a calm expression and walked out the door.

When he was eight, he finally met his master for the first time.

At that time, he hadn’t yet cultivated the Heart-Questioning Sword and couldn’t enter the Boundary Between Life and Death. He could only stand with the sect master and Luo Bufan at the Boundary Between Life and Death’s entrance, bewildered as he gazed at the ice plains within the barrier.

He stood for a long time. Then through the wind and snow, he saw someone walking barefoot, wearing shabby clothing, long hair draped behind, an expression identical to his own—even colder.

He walked to the barrier and looked down at the eight-year-old Xie Gutang.

The two were silent. After a long time, the sect master spoke: “Cheqing, have a good talk with him.”

Saying this, the sect master left with Luo Bufan, leaving only Xie Gutang before this youth.

He looked up at the youth, discovering the youth seemed even more silent than him.

After a long time, he spoke first: “You’re my master?”

“Perhaps.”

The youth spoke, his voice somewhat rusty, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“What do you mean ‘perhaps’?”

Xie Gutang didn’t understand. The youth’s expression was calm: “If you’re willing to become my disciple.”

“Can I refuse?”

Xie Gutang caught the meaning in his words, somewhat puzzled. The youth nodded.

“The Heart-Questioning Sword comes with a great price. You can refuse.”

“What price?”

Xie Gutang didn’t understand. The youth extended his hand before him. Xie Gutang was bewildered. The youth only said: “I’ll take you to see.”

Xie Gutang grasped the youth’s hand and was pulled into the barrier.

Upon entering the barrier, he felt countless evil thoughts rushing at him. Only then did he realize this ice plain wasn’t ordinary ice and snow at all, but formed by this cultivator using sword intent to suppress evil energy.

The youth held him in his arms. Surrounding ice and snow swords formed a protective array, leaving a safe space for him. The youth carried him forward on foot.

“There was once a world, said to be where gods imprisoned demons and evil beasts.”

The youth’s cold voice explained, informing Xie Gutang: “These demons tried every means to escape. One day, they finally tore open a crack to another world. They attempted to rush out through the crack to plunder this small world. Heavenly Sword Sect went through a great war. That year, the Heart-Questioning Sword’s sword master used the Heart-Questioning Sword to drive away the demons and seal the two realms. Where the two realms meet is the Boundary Between Life and Death.”

As he spoke, they came to a cliff edge. Then Xie Gutang felt rolling heat waves approaching.

He looked down to see below was rolling lava. In the lava, faces and hands like hellish demons desperately struggled upward, trying to rush out.

But an invisible net seemed to cover them, pressing them down firmly.

Above this lava, a golden sword hung suspended. Occasionally, when monsters rushed out from the lava, the golden sword immediately transformed into sword light, slaying these monsters back into the lava.

“The sword master left the Heart-Questioning Sword ‘Heavenly Abyss’ to guard this place. Since then, successive generations of Heart-Questioning Sword disciples, after their masters ascend or perish, inherit their master’s position to become the new guardian of the Boundary Between Life and Death.”

“Is this the price?” Xie Gutang felt this didn’t seem like much.

The youth calmly observed that golden sword: “You must remain near Heavenly Abyss. But the Boundary Between Life and Death is filled with demonic energy. Ordinary people cannot resist the erosion of demonic energy and cannot enter.”

“Which means,” the youth turned to look at Xie Gutang, “if you become my disciple, one day after I leave, you’ll have to sit here alone until death or ascension.”

“You cannot have a lover, cannot have someone you care about, cannot have anything you cannot let go of. Nor will anyone be willing to regard you as someone they cannot let go of.”

Hearing these curse-like words, Xie Gutang remained calm.

The youth pressed: “Are you willing?”

“The thing that ate Wang Xiao,” Xie Gutang looked at the things in the lava, feeling somewhat familiar, “was it them?”

“One carelessly escaped. After getting out, it happened to encounter a young disciple.”

The youth didn’t know why Xie Gutang asked this, but answered truthfully. Xie Gutang fell silent. After a long time, he raised his head, speaking calmly: “Alright.”

The youth didn’t speak. He gazed at Xie Gutang.

“I hope you’ll answer this question after you come of age. But the Heart-Questioning Sword must be cultivated from childhood, and I cannot train too many disciples.”

Saying this, the youth placed Xie Gutang on the ground.

He raised his hand, lightly touching Xie Gutang’s forehead.

“If one day you regret it, think about why you agreed to me today.”

“Alright.”

Xie Gutang spoke calmly. The youth closed his eyes. A seal fell on Xie Gutang’s forehead.

“My name is Xie Cheqing. The Heart-Questioning Sword lineage—disciples take their master’s surname, and the master bestows the name.”

“From now on, your name is…” Xie Cheqing’s tone paused slightly. He turned his head and saw a crabapple flower blooming on the ice plain.

It was something he’d personally nurtured with spiritual power—the only living thing that had bloomed on this ice plain.

He gazed at that brilliant crabapple, speaking softly: “Xie Gutang.”

Master and disciple formed their bond. He couldn’t stay in the Boundary Between Life and Death too long, so Xie Cheqing sent him out.

When sending him out of the barrier, Xie Cheqing dispelled the demonic energy from his body and handed him to Luo Bufan.

The sect master was somewhat anxious, only asking: “He’s just a child. How could you take him into the Boundary Between Life and Death? What if he was eroded by demonic energy…”

“He had to see it.” Xie Cheqing interrupted the sect master’s words, his voice calm. “The path must be his own choice.”

Having spoken, Xie Cheqing turned and left, returning to the wind and snow.

From then on, Xie Cheqing taught him once a month.

He couldn’t enter the Boundary Between Life and Death again. Xie Cheqing said if he entered too much, he wouldn’t be able to leave.

So they spoke across the barrier, taught across the barrier.

Year after year, Xie Gutang slowly grew up. The two became familiar. Xie Cheqing seemed to understand him very well. With one look, he knew how Xie Gutang felt.

One day, he suddenly spoke: “If you’re unhappy, just say so.”

Xie Gutang froze, then shook his head: “I don’t get unhappy.”

“The Heart-Questioning Sword doesn’t mean being dead,” Xie Cheqing’s voice was indifferent. “Joy, anger, sorrow, happiness—they still exist, just more faintly.”

Hearing this, Xie Gutang hesitated for a moment, finally saying: “I want to play with them.”

This was very childish, but he’d thought about it for many years, only now understanding he just wanted some companions.

Xie Cheqing nodded, not particularly surprised, telling him: “Then learn from them. Observe more, learn more. See how they laugh, how they cry. Know when to laugh, when to cry, what words make people happy, what words make people dislike you. Know these things, and you’ll have companions.”

Xie Gutang responded. After hesitating a long time, he asked: “Master, am I a monster?”

Hearing this, Xie Cheqing finally showed some emotional fluctuation. He scoffed: “Monster? No,” he spoke seriously, “you’re a genius.”

“What the Heart-Questioning Sword pursues is the true Heavenly Dao.” Xie Cheqing turned to look at the ice plain, sighing, “It’s understanding the rules of the Heavenly Dao, understanding how all things operate. Heaven and earth are heartless, treating all things as straw dogs. Without good or evil, without ugly or beautiful. To seek the Heavenly Dao requires a pure heart, without exclusive love or bias, to avoid being blinded by a single leaf. Thus, the first few levels of the Heart-Questioning Sword are similar to the Heartless Dao, both requiring practitioners to treat love and hate lightly, not asking about emotions or vendettas. But this has never been our final cultivation goal.”

“Then,” Xie Gutang was puzzled, “how can one see the true rules of the Heavenly Dao?”

Xie Cheqing fell silent. After a long time, he shook his head: “I don’t know.”

Xie Gutang began contemplating this question, but he was too young to understand.

He only followed Xie Cheqing’s words, beginning to learn to be an ordinary person. He observed them, understood them. Slowly, he became at ease, beginning to integrate into the world.

He had extraordinary talent and was upright and honest. He became the reliable eldest senior brother in everyone’s hearts, became a paragon of his generation, became the genius sword cultivator who would one day replace his master at Heavenly Sword Sect.

But he also knew that no matter how many titles he had, privately, his fellow disciples would never become his friends.

He remained perpetually alone. The only one he could call family was his master.

But sometimes, even he would doubt—in his master’s heart, as one who cultivated the Heart-Questioning Sword, how much did he matter?

No one cared about him, and no one believed he would care about others.

He walked alone through heaven and earth. He seemed like a normal person, yet never interacted with people as a normal person.

Several hundred years passed like this. One day, he met two people.

These two didn’t belong to this world. Initially, he only came to their side because of a promise, but gradually got along with them.

They were so vivid and lively, like gentle rain seeping into his life.

They experienced life and death together, idled and played together, took boat rides on the lake together. Under a sky full of stars, he finally heard someone tell him: “I consider you a friend.”

He was astonished, turning to look at that handsome youth. He deliberately reminded him that he cultivated the Heart-Questioning Sword.

He thought after hearing this, the other party would understand his peculiarity, his cold heart and detachment, his giving without return.

However, Jian Xingzhi didn’t care at all, seriously telling him: “I don’t believe it.”

He didn’t believe one cultivation method could make someone without love or hate. He also didn’t believe his feelings were false. This was perhaps one of the rare people in this world who truly tried to understand him, Xie Gutang.

Even knowing he practiced the Heart-Questioning Sword, all of them never changed at all, treating him as a friend.

So laughing and cursing, following them to lose face before the sect master, he was willing and content.

But just when he thought this was their entire relationship, Luo Bufan suddenly found him.

“The Boundary Between Life and Death has broken. Your master is desperately holding on, but he can’t last long. Before the seal completely fails, we must kill Xieshen.”

“How to kill him?”

“Have Cuilu assist. Let Xieshen devour Jian Xingzhi. After Jian Xingzhi’s soul merges with Xieshen, True Lord Mingjing will immediately awaken, using his own soul as a vessel to control Xieshen. The sword formation we’ve prepared for a hundred years will immediately execute him.”

Xie Gutang couldn’t speak. He listened to Luo Bufan explain all the causes and consequences. After a long time, he spoke hoarsely: “So when you originally let me descend the mountain to protect Qin Wanwan, it was all for this day.”

“Yes,” Luo Bufan nodded. “If you hadn’t gone down the mountain then, I would have sent someone else. But after getting along for so long, I feared others wouldn’t have the heart. You were willing to go—that was best.”

Xie Gutang lowered his head. In that instant, he felt like he’d returned to when that junior martial brother died in his youth.

Actually, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to cry. He just didn’t know what to do to express that emotion in his heart.

He didn’t even know what that emotion was.

He felt something was covered by a thin membrane. Beneath the membrane was a vast ocean, monstrous waves, but he couldn’t sense it remotely.

In his mind were Jian Xingzhi, Qin Wanwan, Nanfeng, Cuilu. Finally, it returned to when he was eight, the first time he walked into the wind and snow of the Boundary Between Life and Death, seeing those hellish demons climbing upward, Wang Xiao’s blood soaking his white shirt, his master walking barefoot into the wind and snow.

The Heavenly Dao has no favoritism. The Heavenly Dao only has great love.

So he raised his hand, bowing respectfully, speaking hoarsely: “Yes, Sect Master.”

As the sect master instructed, he assisted Cuilu in isolating Jian Xingzhi alone.

However, when preparing to destroy the life-saving talisman Jian Xingzhi had given him, he ultimately couldn’t bring himself to do it. He only isolated that talisman’s connection, then gripped it tightly, turning to leave.

Perhaps from that moment, he felt something slowly cracking open.

He watched Qin Wanwan struggle and scream, heard Nanfeng’s questioning. He walked out of the cave, seeing wind and snow filling the sky, seeing Qin Wanwan’s struggle in despair.

He slowly walked into the wind and snow. He couldn’t help but wonder—what exactly was the Heavenly Dao, what were the rules.

The Heavenly Dao is heartless, but he was human. Humans glimpse the Heavenly Dao, but humans ultimately aren’t the Heavenly Dao.

Not being the Heavenly Dao, how could one be impartial? Not saving Jian Xingzhi for Heavenly Sword Sect, for the world—wasn’t this favoritism toward Heavenly Sword Sect, toward his master, toward the world?

Humans are humans, heaven is heaven. This itself was the Heavenly Dao’s most fundamental rule.

For humans to glimpse heaven, the first thing to understand was that one was human.

The moment he realized this, countless questions flooded his mind. What exactly was a human, how should one act correctly—never in his life had he so clearly sensed the Heavenly Dao’s approach.

He stood in the wind and snow. Cuilu was extremely alarmed.

They all knew very clearly that such unprepared enlightenment—if one didn’t advance, one might turn demonic. But in that moment, he didn’t want to stop.

This was the first time in his life he so wanted to do something, wanted to save someone. He vaguely sensed what true emotion was. All memories became the foundation for understanding this world.

In that moment, he achieved enlightenment, finally gaining the qualification to break the deadlock for Jian Xingzhi and Qin Wanwan.

He saved them and returned to the Boundary Between Life and Death.

Xie Cheqing had overused his spiritual power and was already white-haired. Seeing Xie Gutang who’d stepped into Divine Transformation stage, he spoke in surprise: “Why did you come?”

From Xie Cheqing’s words, he finally sensed that faint worry.

He looked at Xie Cheqing and smiled: “Master, you may go.”

“I’m not dead yet,” Xie Cheqing smiled, “it’s not your turn.”

Xie Gutang didn’t speak. He extended his hand, immobilizing Xie Cheqing.

Xie Cheqing now had no ability to resist at all. He froze in place, then showed some alarm: “Gutang, what are you doing?!”

“Master, you brought me in back then. Now, I’ll send you out.”

Saying this, Xie Gutang lifted Xie Cheqing onto his back.

The same wind and snow, yet he didn’t feel it as difficult as in his youth.

He erected a sword formation for Xie Cheqing, carrying him across the ice plain.

“Master,” he spoke slowly, “I understand now. Actually, when you taught me lessons back then, you really wanted to ask about the outside world, didn’t you?”

“Put me down,” Xie Cheqing coughed lightly. “I can still guard.”

“But you didn’t dare. Because if you asked, you still couldn’t leave.”

“Xie Gutang!”

“Master.” Xie Gutang carried Xie Cheqing to the barrier, dispelling the demonic energy for him, sending him out of the barrier.

Outside the barrier, disciples he’d already prepared were guarding there.

Xie Gutang smiled, watching as disciples received Xie Cheqing and placed him on a palanquin.

He stood in the wind and snow, looking at Xie Cheqing.

“From now on, I, Xie Gutang, will guard the Boundary Between Life and Death.”

“I’ll guard it better than you. Because for several hundred years, your heart was empty. But I am an ordinary mortal with attachments in my heart.”

“I won’t be lonely.”

Looking at the smiling youth standing there, Xie Cheqing stared blankly without speaking.

Having emotion in one’s heart without being attached to it, using a human body to glimpse the Heavenly Dao, standing calmly in the mortal world.

He thought—his disciple had finally obtained his own Heart-Questioning Sword.

Questioning one’s heart without regret, questioning one’s heart to gain clarity.