Chapter 388: 216, Song Knife Death_4
But she swallowed the words back down as they were about to leave her throat.
There was no need to bicker with someone who was drawing their last breath.
"Husband, do you have any dying wishes to pass on? Let’s go to our elder uncle!"
Hai Shuzhu wiped the tears from her cheeks, glanced at the meditating Tranquil Daoist, then spoke.
The Daoist Lords of the Pan Palace basically belonged to the Master and Disciple Lineage. They had always been at odds with the aristocratic families.
Although she didn’t know that Song Knife’s death was closely related to the Tranquil Daoist, she knew that Song Knife could not reveal his dying wishes in front of him.
The sound transmissions via divine consciousness of bottom-level cultivators could not escape the detection of high-level cultivators. At this time, Song Knife was even weaker than a Foundation Establishment Cultivator.
"No need." Song Knife shook his head. He gently stroked his wife’s soft hair for a moment, then hugged his five-year-old son and sighed, "The dying wishes I have to pass on do not need to be kept from Martial Uncle Tranquil."
After speaking, he pondered for a moment, took out the Lingxiao Sword, and handed it to his young son. "This Lingxiao Sword was passed on to me by your Grandmaster; it is the Life-bound Magical Treasure passed down in our Lingxiao Sect for generations.
"Today, I, as your father, pass this Artifact on to you.
"However... I have consumed most of the Origin Energy of this sword, making it insufficient for you to rely on."
Song Knife sighed sadly.
The Lingxiao Sect has been passed down for ten thousand years. Only by reaching the Dao Lord realm can one truly inherit the lineage of Daoism. Back then, his Master, Lingxiao Dao Lord, used the Origin Energy of the Lingxiao Sword to create three Talisman Treasures for him. The Lingxiao Sword’s Origin Energy was greatly damaged as a result. If he had become a Dao Lord, he could have replenished the Lingxiao Sword’s Origin Energy, just like his Master, and passed this sword on to future disciples as a legacy. But now, he was merely a Dao Pill Daoist.
"In my life, I harbor three great grievances. If you have the heart and the strength, you may avenge me.
"My first grievance is Xu Xing severing my Dragon Pulse, thus cutting off my path to a First-Rate Dao Pill, and then belittling and humiliating me.
"My second grievance is the unjust verdict by former Sect Master Ren Yuanrui, which led to me being wrongfully imprisoned in the Black Fire Prison for fifty years, all that time wasted.
"My third grievance is..."
Song Knife held his young son’s hand, his lips trembling, but when it came to the third grievance, he hesitated, unable to speak.
It was as if he had undergone some drastic change. Threads of black aura began to entwine his soul. He stumbled backward a few steps, collapsing against the bed’s railing, and looked up toward the sky outside the window.
"So..." he murmured, his face turning ashen. "Even if I hadn’t encountered the Thousand Cranes Daoist, I, Song Knife, would not have escaped this death."
He once again felt the descent of an ominous aura. This time, it was far more ferocious and unfathomable than the previous four times.
Even if his Dao Pill hadn’t been damaged, this curse would have been enough to claim his life.
A short while later, Song Knife’s Divine Soul, which had collapsed onto the bed, slowly disintegrated, leaving behind only some unknown black, granular residue.
"Dad!" Song Knife’s young son cried out, collapsing to his knees and wailing inconsolably.
The servants in the side room also showed expressions of grief. Although this True Monarch Song was a revered True Monarch, he usually put on no airs, was extremely kind, and had often taken care of them.
The meditating Tranquil Daoist opened his eyes, shook his head, and rose. "Junior Hai," he said, "I shall take my leave."
"Thank you, Martial Uncle, for your attempt to save my husband. I will see you out..." Hai Shuzhu said, showing proper courtesy.
"There’s no need." With a flick of his wide sleeve, the Tranquil Daoist vanished from the Hai Family’s residence, leaving no trace.
Once the Tranquil Daoist had departed, Hai Shuzhu approached her grieving son. "An’er, did your father write his third dying wish in your hand?" she asked urgently, flipping over his small palm to find it empty.
Her intuition told her that Song Knife’s failure to state the third grievance wasn’t because he was on the verge of death and couldn’t speak, but because there was a deeper meaning behind it.
"Mom, Dad didn’t write anything," Song An said, pausing for a moment.
Although he was only four years old, he was a child born after Song Knife had formed his Dao Pill. He had inherited a portion of Song Knife’s constitution, making him Innate and sacred.
"What? Nothing was written?" Hai Shuzhu frowned.
She paced back and forth in the side room, her mind racing as she pieced together various bits of information.
"So, it was you who killed my husband!" she exclaimed, her voice cold. "Tranquil Daoist! The Hai Family will remember this enmity for my husband’s murder. We will not let this matter rest easily!"