Liu Yao: The Revitalization of

Fuyao Sect
Liu Yao [1]: The Revitalization of
Fuyao Sect
 Volume Ⅰ: The Roc’s Long Flight [2]

Chapter 1

Cheng Qian was at the nominal age [3] of ten, but he grew too slowly to
keep up with his age.

Around noon, he carried firewood from the courtyard into the central hall.
As it was hard for him to carry a whole bundle, he had to run back and forth
twice. He only then wiped off the sweats and buried himself in cooking.

His father was busy receiving a guest these days, so chores including
washing dishes, cooking, making fires and chopping firewood, all fell on
his shoulders, driving him as busy as a spinning top, as if he could raise a
tired wind anytime and anywhere.

Due to his short stature, it was somewhat inconvenient for him to operate a
large pot, although he could already reach the top of the kitchen range. So
he got a stool from the corner to step on.

The four legs of the stool varied in length. Since the age of six, Cheng Qian
had learned to cook stepping on it. Heaps of times he came close to falling
into the pot and turning himself into a broth, but eventually he managed to
get on in harmony with that uneven stool, keeping an unstable balance.

Today, his big brother came back when he was adding water to the pot on
that stool.

His big brother was already fifteen, and had grown into a young man. He
walked in the central room silently with a smell of sweat, took a sweeping
look around, then lifted his young brother down from the stool and gave
him a rude push on the back. “Leave it with me.” He said in a muffled
voice, “You can go and play.”

Cheng Qian, of course, wouldn’t really go out. “Big Brother!” The lovely
boy called out, and then squatted aside, blowing the bellows loudly.

Cheng Dalang [4] looked down at him with complicated eyes, not uttering
a word.

There were three sons in his family, Cheng Qian was the second. He had
been called “Cheng Erlang” until a guest’s arrival the previous evening.

Dalang was aware that he could hardly call “Erlang” anymore, for his
second brother, along with the convenient nickname, would make a
complete change and go somewhere far away.

The guest that visited the day before was a Taoist, whose name was
unknown. He unblushingly referred to himself as “Muchun Zhenren [5]”.
But he might not necessarily have any genuine abilities, judging by his
appearance — he had a sparse goatee, a pair of half-closed bird eyes and
slender feet showing beneath the pleats of his robe fluttering in the wind —
he was more like a fortune-teller who swindled and bluffed than an
immortal with an ethereal bearing.

Zhenren just passed by on his tour. He came up to ask for a bowl of water
and never expected to see Cheng Erlang.

Cheng Erlang had only just run back home from outside then — there was
an old Tongsheng [6] in the village, who had failed in the imperial
examinations many times. He recruited students and taught them reading. In
spite of his very little learning, he demanded quite high emoluments. He
turned up his nose at things like self-made cured meats, fruits and
vegetables, and only true gold and silver would be accepted. Moreover, the
amount depended — as soon as he pissed it all away, he’d stretch out to his
students for more.
As a man with such bad conduct, he was totally unqualified to be a teacher,
who could transmit wisdom, impart knowledge and resolve doubts. But
there was just no way, as it wasn’t easy for children in rural areas to get
education, considering that there wasn’t a second teacher within a radius of
one hundred Li [7].

In light of their family circumstances, the Chengs definitely couldn’t afford

tuition for their sons’ schooling. But those unpronounceable archaisms
seemed to appeal to Cheng Qian especially. Since he couldn’t walk in the
classroom decently, he had to eavesdrop periodically.

In the old Tongsheng’s opinion, every spay of his saliva was the
crystallization of his painstaking efforts, which was not for free. Therefore,
he would often go out on a patrol halfway through his lecture.

Accordingly, Cheng Erlang hid in the tall Chinese scholar tree in the old
Tongsheng’s courtyard like a monkey. Every time the theory of “self-
cultivation, family harmony and world peace” would bring him out in a
sweat.

Last night, in such a sweat, Cheng Erlang handed a bowl of water to a guest
at his father’s instruction. But oddly enough, the guest didn’t take it.
Instead, he reached out his hand that was as skinny as a leafless branch. He
didn’t feel Erlang’s bones, though, nor did he use any strange cultivation
method. He simply raised Erlang’s head and took a look straight into eyes
of the young child, who tried hard to put on an air of “bookishness”.

Somehow Zhenren seemed to see something from that look. He nodded

strangely and said with an air of importance, “If you ask me, this kid is
blessed with great endowments. In the future, he may acquire the ability of
soaring up to the sky and diving deep to the sea, and perhaps great fortune
waits ahead. He is no mediocre but will go far!”

Dalang was also present when Zhenren said so. Being apprenticed to a
shopkeeper, he had seen people traveling south and north. So he considered
himself as a man of knowledge and experience, yet he had never heard that
one could judge another’s endowments by a mere look.
Dalang was thinking of contradicting the charlatan, but before he could
open his mouth, he was surprised to find that his father actually had
believed such nonsense. And all of a sudden, he got shocked by what had
just occurred to him.

His family wasn’t wealthy, especially after his mother gave birth to his
youngest brother before the turn of the year. It was a difficult labor, and
since then, she had been so weak that she always had to stay in bed. As a
consequence, there was an invalid mother in the family who lived on
medicine in replace of a healthy woman who could work.

The harvest of this year was bad. With no rain for months, there was going
to be a severe crop failure. The three brothers… their family was unlikely to
afford to feed them all.

Dalang knew exactly what his parents thought. He had served as an

apprentice for a year and a half, and in one year or so, he would be able to
make money back and become the hope of his family. While his youngest
brother was still a baby in swaddling clothes, it was naturally difficult for
parents to part with him. As for Erlang in the middle, he seemed quite
superfluous. Perhaps he’d be better off cultivating himself with that Taoist.

If he struck it lucky and did succeed, that would be terrific. Even if not, it
wouldn’t matter whether he lived by fortune-telling or cheating, as long as
he could feed himself and grow up. Both were his own life paths.

Muchun Zhenren and the short-sighted master of this family soon reached a
“deal” through talks. Zhenren left a silver ingot and Cheng Erlang would go
with him. From this moment on, he would no longer be “Cheng Erlang” but
“Cheng Qian”. This afternoon, he was going to cut off the bonds of this
world and set off with his master.

Dalang was several years older than his second brother. They didn’t talk
much and were by no means close to each other. Whereas this younger
brother had been sensible from a very young age. He neither blubbered for
no reason nor stirred up any trouble. He wore what his big brother had
worn, ate what his mother and younger brother had eaten, only took the lead
when it came to chores, and never complained.
Dalang loved and cared for this brother from the bottom of his heart, though
he failed to say it.

But he just couldn’t help it. The family was too poor to rear him. He was
yet the mainstay of the family, his words wouldn’t count.

But anyway, that was their own flesh and blood, how should they be so
ruthless to sell him?

The more Dalang thought about it the worse he felt. An idea popped into his
mind that he should hit that old charlatan’s head to a hole with a big iron
ladle. But in the end, he failed to muster up the courage — after all, he
wouldn’t have been a mere apprentice if he’d got the courage. Wouldn’t he
make much more money by plundering and looting?

Regarding his parents’ plan and big brother’s pent-up frustration, Cheng
Qian wasn’t completely in the dark.

Honestly, he wasn’t very precocious, definitely couldn’t be mentioned in

the same breath with some child prodigies who were able to compose
poems at the age of seven, or those that were appointed as prime minister at
the age of thirteen. He was only a little oversensitive.

Father started work from dawn to dusk. Big Brother went to work with stars
shining and came home with the moon up. Mother didn’t hold him in her
eyes as there were already his brothers. Therefore, even if no one beat or
scolded him, no one would take him seriously either. Cheng Qian was well
aware of that and he was tactful enough not to look for trouble. The most
outrageous thing he had done ever since his birth was to climb up the big
tree of the old Tongsheng’s, and listen to him explaining those trashy saints’
books.

Cheng Qian worked conscientiously and diligently. He thought of himself

as a young waiter, worker, servant — but never a son.

A kid should be talkative and restless. Now that Cheng Qian wasn’t a son,
he naturally didn’t enjoy the privilege of being garrulous and naughty. He
had been used to holding back his innermost feelings, and overtime, the
words that couldn’t be let out had to pierce inside, poking a lot of tiny
holes in his little heart [8].

The boy with thousands of holes in his heart knew that he was sold by his
parents. But bizarrely, he felt surprisingly calm, as though he had expected
this day to come.

Before leaving, Cheng Qian’s ailing mother got out of bed once in a blue
moon. She called him aside with a trembling voice, and gave him a parcel
with eyes red. There were several pieces of clothing and a dozen pancakes.
Needless to say, the clothes must be altered from his big brother’s, and the
pancakes were made by his father the previous afternoon and evening.

He was her own flesh and blood, after all. Gazing at him, his mother
couldn’t help reaching her hand into her sleeve and shipped out a string of
copper coins shakily. The bumpy and tarnished coins suddenly struck a
chord with Cheng Qian slightly. He was like a small frozen animal, sniffing
gingerly in a world of snow and ice, and somehow scented the smell of
Mother.

His father also caught sight of that string of coins, however. He coughed
heavily from the side, and his mother was forced to put it back, tears in
eyes.

The smell of Mother was like flowers in a mirror and the moon’s reflection
in the water, all of a sudden, vanished into the air again, before Cheng Qian
could give a second sniff.

“Come here, Erlang.” His mother held Cheng Qian’s hand and took him
into the inner room. She started panting within just a few steps.

She was exhausted and got a bench to sit on. Pointing to the oil lamp
hanging from the ceiling, she asked weakly, “Erlang, do you know what it
is?”

“Immortal Eternal Fire.” Cheng Qian looked upward indifferently.

This lamp with undistinguished appearance was the heirloom of his family,
which was said to be his great grandmother’s dowry. It was palm-sized with
no wick or kerosene. There were a couple of lines of Taoist magic figures
carved on the old ebony lamp holder, with which the lamp could give out
light automatically, forever illuminating an area of one Chi [9] square.

But Cheng Qian never figured out what the use of the crap was besides
attracting bugs in summer.

But seeing that it was a magic tool, it was not necessary to have any
practical use. As for a countryman, it could be handed down from
generation to generation as a treasure, provided that he could show it off
when the neighbors visited.

The so-called “magic tool” was something where there were charms carved
by “immortals”. And it was impossible for the mortals to fake — there was
a wide variety of magic tools with an even wider variety of uses, such as
lamps that didn’t fuel kerosene, paper that didn’t burn, beds that were warm
in winter and cool in summer, and so forth.

There once came a story-teller roving the country. According to him, there
were large houses built with “Immortal Bricks” in bustling cities. It
appeared as if it had been glazed in the sunlight and was as resplendent as a
royal palace. And bowls that the rich used had charms written by high-level
immortals on the outer side. Such bowls could avoid poisons and cure
illnesses. One fragment of it was worthy of four Liang [10] of gold, yet was
still pursued by many.

“Immortals”, that was, “cultivators”, and were also called “Daoren” or

“Zhenren” — the former was usually used to call oneself to indicate
humbleness.

Legend had it that they began with absorbing Qi from the natural world,
and as their Cultivation Base leveled up, they became so powerful that they
could refuse to eat, go up to the heaven and enter the earth, to such an
extent that they’d enjoy eternal youth and become immortals at last after
they pulled through Heavenly Tribulations… but nobody had ever seen true
immortals, and legends remained legends.
The immortals always drifted about with great uncertainty. Thus a good
piece of magic tool was really a rare treasure, which high officials and
noble lords all scrambled for.

Cheng Qian’s mother bent over to look at him carefully. “When you
returned, make an Eternal Fire for me, okay?” Asked his mother in a mild
tone verging on blandishments.

Cheng Qian didn’t reply. Raising his eyelids and looking at her, he thought
to himself ungratefully, “You wish! From today on, whether I succeed or
not, die or not, and whatever I become, I shall never come back to see you
again.”

Suddenly, his mother was seized with shock. She found that this kid wasn’t
like her or her husband. She saw her big brother in him instead.

Her big brother was born with ancestors’ blessing. He was as pretty as a
picture and was nothing like a countryman. His parents supported his study
with all their might, and he was worth the price. He passed the imperial
examination at the county level and became a Xiucai at the age of eleven.
People said he was Star of Wisdom [11] descending from the sky.

However, Star of Wisdom probably didn’t want to linger in the world for
too long. He died from illness before he could pass the triennial provincial
civil examination for the degree of Juren.

Cheng Qian’s mother was very young when her big brother died, so some
memory had blurred. But at this moment she suddenly recalled, that when
he was alive, he was exactly the same as Cheng Qian — he would always
understate his raptures and furies with merely a casual look, as if nothing
appeared to ruffle his perfect composure. His poker face always forbade
others from getting close to him.

Cheng Qian’s mother let go of his hand in spite of herself, and at the same
time, Cheng Qian took a half step backward unobtrusively.

Thus he put the separation of a son from his mother into an abrupt end
mildly and firmly as well.
In Cheng Qian’s mind, what he had done was not out of hatred. Actually, he
got no reason to hate them — his parents gave him birth and raised him up.
Even if they gave him up halfway, at most their faults offset their merits.

He looked down at his toes and said to himself, it wouldn’t matter his
parents didn’t have him in their eyes, it was also nothing that they sold him
to a bird-eyed Taoist.

Notes:

[1] Liu Yao: see here.

[2] the roc’s long flight : A roc can reach a destination of a myriad miles
away at one jump — (said of those who) have a bright future.

[3] nominal age: according to a Chinese tradition, a person is considered

one year old at birth, so that he will always be one year older than his actual
age. See more here.

[4] Dalang: in a Chinese family, the eldest son is often called Dalang (大郎)
by his parents, the second son is called Erlang (二郎), and the third is called
Sanlang (三郎).

[5] Muchun: a big tree with a very long life span.

Zhenren: see here.

[6] Tongsheng: scholars that failed in the imperial examination (in the Ming
and Qing Dynasties).

Xiucai: Tongsheng who passed the imperial examination at the county level
(in the Ming and Qing Dynasties).
Juren: successful candidate in the provincial imperial examinations (in the
Ming and Qing Dynasties).

[7] Li: a unit of length, equivalent to 500 meters.

[8] poking a lot of tiny holes in his little heart: it explains why Cheng Qian
is oversensitive, because the Chinese idiom “one has many holes in his
heart” means that “one is oversensitive”.

[9] Chi: a unit of length, equal to 1/3 meter.

[10] Liang: a unit of weight for silver or gold (about 31 grams).

[11] Star of Wisdom: a legendary god in charge of imperial examinations

and literary affairs.
 Chapter 2

Cheng Qian left with Muchun Zhenren.

Muchun Zhenren was thin and emaciated in a tattered hat, just like three
sticks propping a head. He led Cheng Qian by the hand, like the ringmaster
of a traveling troupe leading his newly recruited actor.

Although Cheng Qian remained a child in appearance, he already had a

heart of a young man.

He walked in silence, but he couldn’t help looking back in the end.

There, he saw his mother, carrying a basket on the back and face blurred by
tears. He saw his younger brother, fast asleep in that basket. He saw his
father as well, standing silently in the shadow, eyes fixed on the ground as
if he was sighing.

Cheng Qian drew back his sight quickly as there was nothing to be
nostalgic about. The road ahead was uncertain just as the boundless dark.

Basically, there were two ways of journeying. One was called “traveling”,
the other was called “roaming”.

Following his master, Cheng Qian was drowned in heresies and sophistries,
not to mention he had to eat in the wind and sleep in the dew, which was
even worse than “roaming”.

Speaking of cultivation and seeking Tao, Cheng Qian had heard a little
about it.

There was once an excessive number of whimsical people following the

trend of cultivating and seeking Tao.
During the late emperor’s reign, sects big or small began to spring up all
over the country like mushrooms. Any Tom, Dick or Harry, as long as he
was blessed with descendants, would use all his connections to get his kids
into those sects for the purpose of cultivation. Nevertheless, besides some
tricks like “breaking the stone on one’s chest”, it was never heard that
anyone had made real achievements.

At that time, there were more alchemists than cooks, more people chanting
than farming, to such an extent that for years there was nobody reading
books or practicing martial arts, giving rise to charlatans who didn’t work.

Allegedly in the heyday of cultivation, as many as twenty sects were set up

in only a county, while a county was no more than ten Li from east to west.
They would collect ill-gotten wealth and recruit disciples in the name of
cultivation, with some fake books on cultivation methods bought from
peddlers.

God knows whether the Heavenly Gate [1] could hold them or not, if such
people all ascended to immortality.

Even bandits would like to join in the tide. They changed their gang names
from “Black Tiger Gang” and “Hungry Wolf Association” to “Breeze
Temple” and “Profundity Hall”. What was more ridiculous, they would play
tricks like “fetching from boiling oil” and “fire breathing” before mugging,
and the victims often got so scared that they would be robbed voluntarily.

The late emperor was primarily a soldier with short temper. He felt that at
this rate, the country would collapse most surely. Thereupon, he issued an
edict that all “immortals” rampaging through the countryside, whether true
or fake, be arrested and banished to the military.

But before the world-shaking edict had found its way out of the palace,
ministers of the imperial court got wind of it. They were shocked out of bed
and queued up in front of the audience hall overnight — low-ranking
officials in the front and high-ranking officials at the back, getting
themselves ready to crash into the pillars before the hall. They were
determined to admonish the emperor at the risk of their lives, lest he offend
the immortals and ruin the longevity of the dynasty.
The emperor, of course, wouldn’t possibly have them die such a tragic
death. Besides, the Dragon Pillars might not bear the impact.

The late emperor was forced to revoke the edict. The next day, he ordered
Bureau of Astronomy to establish a new branch called “Office of Heaven’s
Divination”, and invited several genuine immortals to take charge.
Furthermore, he stipulated that from then on, all sects, big or small, could
recruit disciples on condition that it had been authorized by Office of
Heaven’s Divination and received an iron plaque as verification. Founding a
sect without permission was forbidden.

Certainly, in such a great and impressive country as stretched across nine

states, it was almost impossible for every order to be enforced strictly.
Those one-size-fit-all decrees couldn’t, let alone such relaxed rubbishing
edicts.

On the one hand, the imperial court had been occupied in mopping up
robbers and kidnappers, how could they spare time to mind those sect
business?

On the other hand, true immortals took no notice of the emperor. They were
bound up in their own affairs as before. Only charlatans restrained
themselves a bit, but very limitedly — it wasn’t impossible to forge
whatever iron or copper plaques, anyway.

Fortunately, the late emperor’s efforts weren’t completely in vain. After

repeated checks and eliminations, the passion for cultivation among the
people was reduced significantly. Additionally, since it was never heard that
anyone had made remarkable achievements, people went back to farming
and shepherding overtime, instead of building castles in the air.

When the present emperor ascended the throne, although the popularity of
cultivation was still lingering on with its last breath, the mania had already
died. The emperor knew very well the principle that fish do not come
when the water is too clear [2]. So he turned a blind eye to those swindlers
in the name of cultivation. The officials wouldn’t investigate as long as
nobody reported.
Cheng Qian had heard those stories from the old Tongsheng before. So in
his eyes, the wooden club leading him was no more than a wooden club…
or at best a wooden club that provided meals, with nothing respectable.

Stroking his droopy mustache, club-like Muchun started talking nonsense,

“Our sect is named ‘Fuyao [3]’. Do you know what Fuyao is, little
creature?”

The old Tongsheng hated such things bitterly, and naturally wouldn’t waste
his breath on it. As he was Cheng Qian’s first teacher, Cheng Qian was
more or less influenced by him. Therefore, although he was full of disdain
for Muchun, he pretended to be listening grudgingly.

Muchun lifted his hand up and pointed somewhere in front of Cheng Qian.
Magically, a sudden blast of wind sprang up from out of nowhere, whirling
withered grass up to the sky. There was a sharp line of yellow on the blade
of the grass, lightened by a bolt of lightning cracking across the sky, which
almost dazzled Cheng Qian’s eyes.

The young lad was flabbergasted at the weird scene.

Muchun froze too, as he himself didn’t expect that. But seeing that this brat
who was friendly in appearance but estranged at heart was bluffed, he took
advantage of it and withdrew his hand.

He tucked his hands in opposite sleeves and started parading his knowledge
contentedly, “When the roc travels to the Southern Ocean, it flaps along
the water for three thousand Li, and then it soars upon a whirlwind to a
height of ninety thousand Li, for a flight lasting six months [4] — with no
shape or restraint, circling with the wind, coming from the deep sea and
going up for the boundless sky, this is ‘Fuyao’, understand?”

Of course Cheng Qian didn’t understand. In his tiny heart, the awe of
supernatural forces tangled inseparably with his disapproval for crooked
tricks. At last, he nodded confusedly with disapproval as well as respect for
his master, setting Muchun at the same place as the shabby lamp in his
home.
Muchun stuck his mustache up complacently and was about to go on
talking when he got a slap in the face — after the rumble of thunder, a
strong wind whizzed along, putting out the bone fire before them, and then
began to blow fiercely. Thunders together with lightning were exercising
their voices like singers, conspiring to call the clouds with ill intent from
the west.

Muchun forgot to play tricks any more. He called out promptly, “Damn! It’s
going to rain!”

With that, he bounced to his feet. With one hand carrying their luggage on
the shoulder, the other hand lifting Cheng Qian, he moved his reed-like legs
and made off taking quick short steps like a long-neck pheasant.

Unfortunately, the downpour came so swiftly that it was difficult for even a
long-neck pheasant to escape from becoming a soaked pheasant.

Muchun stripped off his drenched robe, and covered the little boy in his
bosom with it. But that was merely better than nothing. “Oh, damn it! What
heavy rain! I got to find a shelter.” He exclaimed as he ran.

Throughout his life, Cheng Qian would ride many birds and beasts for
traveling in the future — but this was the bumpiest and most talkative one,
without a doubt.

The sounds of wind, rain and thunder mixed up with his master’s noise.
Under the shelter of the robe, Cheng Qian could hardly see anything, but he
smelled an indescribable scent of wood from it.

His master held him before the chest with one hand and covered his head
with the other. This old man was all skins and bones, thus hurt him a lot.
Whereas, his bosom and protection were by no means false display of
affection.

Somehow Cheng Qian was willing to get close to him despite the fact that
the long-neck pheasant was talking big and playing tricks on him just a
moment ago.
Draped in Muchun’s robe, Cheng Qian timidly peered through the chink in
the cloth at his master, who was soaked through in the rain. For the first
time in his life, he had enjoyed the treatment that a kid deserved. He soared
for a short while and recognized this unreliable man as his master willingly.
He even made up his mind — he would choose to forgive him even if he
had a mouthful of nonsense and heresies.

Riding his skinny master, Cheng Qian finally arrived at a dilapidated

temple.

The mass “eradication” during the late emperor’s reign had purged many
unauthorized sects, but some temples of those sects survived and became
rest places for homeless beggars and travelers who missed their lodgings.

Cheng Qian popped his head out of Muchun’s robe, and immediately
caught sight of a clay joss enshrined in the temple, by which he was startled
— it had a hard-featured look, with a round face and no neck, blusher
applied to both cheeks, hair drawn into double tight buns, a fierce-looking
mouth and a creepy smile showing its uneven teeth.

Master saw it too. He hurried to cover Cheng Qian’s eyes with his hand,
and criticized furiously, “How could you have the cheek to enjoy offerings
when dressing in such a lewd and vicious manner! The nerve of you!”

Due to his young age and very limited knowledge, Cheng Qian got stunned
as well as confused.

“To cultivate, one is ought to purify his spirit, reduce his desires, and be
prudent in his words and deeds. How disgraceful it is to dress up as an
opera actor!” Said Muchun sternly.

He actually knew the word “disgraceful” … Cheng Qian was considering

reassessing him now.

At the very moment, a smell of meat wafted over from the back of the
temple, and interrupted the “pure-spirited” mater’s tirade.
Muchun swallowed involuntarily and failed to continue his words. With an
expression of confusion, he took Cheng Qian to the back of that joss, and a
beggar who looked one or two years older than Cheng Qian showed up
there.

It turned out that the beggar somehow managed to dig a hole at the back of
the temple, and was roasting a Beggar’s Chicken [5] in it. He smashed the
caked mud wrapping the chicken, and the whole temple was brimming with
the scent.

Muchun swallowed once more.

Things would be quite inconvenient when one was as scrawny as him. For
example, when the hunger struck, it was uneasy to conceal his instincts as
the craning thin neck would give him away.

Muchun laid Cheng Qian down, and then showed his little apprentice what
“cultivators must be prudent in his words and deeds” meant.

He wiped off the water on his face first, and put on a graceful smile like a
genuine immortal. After that, he drifted over to the beggar unhurriedly
taking tottering lily steps, then he started his lengthy luring speech in Cheng
Qian’s presence. He sketched an image of a sect beyond the sea, where
people wore gold and silver jewelry with no worries about food and clothes.
Unbelievably, it worked! His sweet words stimulated the little beggar’s
interest.

Facing the beggar who had a big head and a small body, Muchun continued
sweet-talking him with fervor, “As far as I can see, you’re blessed with
great endowments. You can soar up to the sky and dive deep to the sea one
day, and I see great fortune in you — boy, what’s your name?”

Cheng Qian felt that his words sounded strangely familiar.

Sly though the little beggar was since he had lived a vagabond life, he was
ultimately so young that he was easily lured. With a snotty nose, he
answered innocently, “Xiaohu. I don’t have a surname.”
“Well then, I’ll surname you Han, the same as mine.” Stroking his
mustache, Muchun confirmed their master-apprentice relationship very
naturally, “As to the name, how about the single character — Yuan?”

Cheng Qian, “…”

Han Yuan [6], suffering an injustice… that was indeed an auspicious and
joyous name.

Master must have been ravenous, so he spoke without measuring his words
in face of the well toasted Beggar’s Chicken.
 Notes:

[1] Heavenly Gate: the entrance from the Mortal Realm to the Heavens.

[2]: A Chinese proverb which means “one should not demand absolute
purity”.

[3] Fuyao: a whirlwind from the passage Xiaoyao You.

[4]: A quote from Xiaoyao You.

[5] Beggar’s Chicken: a whole chicken roasted in caked mud.

[6] Han Yuan: the pronunciation of this name is the same as “suffering an
injustice” in Chinese.
 Chapter 3

As Cheng Qian was apprenticed to Muchun earlier than Han Yuan, Han
Yuan actually became his fourth junior brother, although Han Yuan was a
little older than him. He had been Muchun’s “shut-door apprentice [1]”
for only a few days before he became a senior brother.

Obviously, the back door of Fuyao Sect was not shut tight.

As for the Beggar’s Chicken… naturally most of it found their way into his
master’s stomach.

However, even chicken couldn’t shut Muchun up. “Where was the chicken
from?” He asked while eating. He seemed to have a habit of preaching.

Han Yuan had a skillful tongue — he didn’t use hands to gnaw a bone. He
simply put it whole into his mouth, puffed up his cheeks for a couple of
times, and then chewed the gristle for a short while. At last only the clean
and intact chicken bone was left.

“Bah!” He spat out the bone rudely and replied, “I stole it in the village
ahead.”

Confucius said, “Chew with mouth closed, lay silent.”

The Beggar’s Chicken was certainly delicious. Cheng Qian was hesitating
whether to eat a drumstick as his master did or not when he heard their
conversation. After learning the ins and outs, he withdrew his hand
resolutely, and started nibbling at his pancakes that were as hard as stones
wordlessly aside.

What flavor could the chicken be when the cook was such an indecent
person?
From this perspective, his Tao heart [2] and principles were firmer than his
incompetent master’s in spite of his young age.

Apparently Han Yuan’s answer didn’t spoil Muchun Zhenren’s appetite at

all. He just spared a half of mouth from chewing and said wagging his head,
“Taking without asking, that’s what thieves do. As cultivators, how could
we do pilfering? That’s improper! Do it no more!”

Han Yuan mumbled “Yes”. The little beggar knew nothing about manners,
so he didn’t dare to retort.

“Pilfering is forbidden, presumably swindling is fine then.” Cheng Qian

thought sarcastically. But presently he remembered the tolerance he granted
his master just now in the downpour. He could only sigh to himself
gloomily, “So be it.”

The fourth junior brother had a small nose and a underbite. His small eyes
glinted with slipperiness, which made him quite unlovable.

Cheng Qian didn’t like Han Yuan at first sight. Not only was he unsightly,
but also he took the title of “Junior Brother”. Everything concerning
“brothers”, Cheng Qian found it hard to develop an affection for. But he just
buried his dislike deep in heart and pretended to be friendly and agreeable
on the outside, although not very tactfully.

In Cheng Qian’s family, newly cut clothes were on his big brother’s body,
and milk pastes with sugar were all into his little brother’s mouth. In a
word, good things would never descend on him. Conversely, he was often
asked to do housework. Cheng Qian didn’t have a lenient disposition, thus
grudges naturally took root in his heart. On the other hand, he also bore
what the old Tongsheng used to say in mind — “The father should be kind,
the son should be obedient; and good brothers should show love and
respect”. So he often felt that his grudges made no sense.

It was too early for such a young boy to have self-restraint. Cheng Qian
couldn’t really stifle his grudges, so he had to pretend to have no word of
complaint — even if he was admitted into Fuyao Sect now, he still didn’t
change a thing.
Now that his master went back on his words and unshut the door, Cheng
Qian had no choice but to lump it and try to be a senior brother up to the
mark.

Along the journey, if there was any errand, he, the senior brother would run;
if there was any food, he would let his master to enjoy first, junior brother
the next, and himself the last. It was never an easy job. Cheng Qian had to
reflect upon himself frequently, in case that he should damage his
temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous image.

Cheng Qian often made such excessive demands on himself — his father
had been poor and wretched for a lifetime. He was a vulgar and irritable
man who was mean to him. Cheng Qian remembered the old Tongsheng’s
words. He dared not hate his father explicitly, so he pitied him inwardly.
When waking up from dreams at midnight, this young lad would often
think, he would rather die than become someone like his father.

For this reason, his fragile dignity was propped up in the narrow crevice
between confusion and hardships with his utmost, and was something that
he couldn’t afford to lose, no matter what.

But Cheng Qian soon discovered that although he did quite a good job, the
junior brother was really unworthy of his care — he had not only a
repulsive appearance but an annoying personality.

First, Han Yuan was a real big talker. Before they met him, it was his master
that played the role of making noise. But now, even Muchun Zhenren
seemed quieter in contrast to him.

The little beggar could even blurt out a story about how he defeated a
weasel that was one Zhang [3] in length, and snatched a chicken from its
mouth, as though he was enlightened by Master’s remarks on “pilfering
[4]”.

He gesticulated merrily when making up the story, which was well

presented and full of twists in its plot, with opening, development,
transition and conclusion all included. Every detail manifested his wisdom
and mightiness.
“How on earth can a weasel be one Zhang long?” Asked Cheng Qian,
trying to question him.

“It must be a weasel spirit! Master, can a weasel ascend to a spirit?” Han
Yuan defended himself with his chin up and chest out, feeling that he was
challenged.

Hearing the story about a weasel spirit, their master seemed to be offended
by some word, for his expression was kind of strange, as if he had a
toothache or stomachache. There was a moment of silence before he
answered unhurriedly and absent-mindedly, “All nature objects have souls.
Generally, they can all ascend to spirits.”

Han Yuan raised his chin cockily as though he was greatly encouraged by
his master’s words, and then said deliberately, “Senior Brother, you marvel
because you’ve seen little. If human beings can ascend to immortals,
animals can turn into spirits absolutely.”

Cheng Qian didn’t reply but sneered inwardly.

Supposing a weasel was really one Zhang long, the odds were that it could
hardly support his body with only four legs, for it was so long that its
stomach was bound to trail on the ground as it moved.

Is it possible that a demonic cultivator took the trouble to cultivate only for
a sturdy iron stomach that was rubbed bare by the ground?

With regards to what demonic cultivators strived for, Cheng Qian had no
idea. But he did know what Han Yuan wanted.

The little beggar was as fierce as leeches in the sewer, once he scented the
blood, he would desperately attach himself to it — Han Yuan was striving
for their master’s favor against him.

The little beggar would snatch at every chance to show off his bravery, and
in the meantime, wouldn’t forget to bring shame on his “weak and
vulnerable” senior brother. Cheng Qian found it very funny to watch Han
Yuan run about trying to disgrace him. So he did an imitation of the old
Tongsheng and made a judgement on his fourth junior brother in his mind,
“A gentleman is firm in adversity, while a villain will give himself up to evil
— little bastard, what kind of louse are you?!”

After hearing Han Yuan’s story of “fighting off a weasel spirit”, Cheng
Qian got the chance to witness the “heroic achievement” of his bastard
junior brother’s the next day.

Their master was taking a nap under the tree that day. Cheng Qian was
reading an old book that he found in their master’s luggage. The wording
was difficult to understand, and Cheng Qian had very superficial learning.
So he and most part of the scriptures “met without knowing each other”.
Nevertheless, Cheng Qian didn’t feel bored and found pleasure in it —
whatever the book said, it was his first above-board touch on a book, after
all.

Of the two apprentices Muchun picked up, one was as still as a trunk, the
other was as active as a monkey. The trunk, Cheng Qian was motionless;
whereas the monkey, Han Yuan couldn’t stop for a second.

At this moment, Han Monkey was nowhere to be found, and Cheng Qian
was happy to have peace for ears. However, good times didn’t last long, and
Han Yuan came back crying.

“Master…” Han Yuan sobbed like a spoiled child.

His master’s answer was a soft and flowing snore.

Thereupon, Han Yuan went on howling and shoot a glance at Cheng Qian
beside him at the same time.

Cheng Qian doubted that their master actually had already waken but still
pretended to be sleeping, with the intention of observing how the brothers
got along. Now the junior brother was crying his eyes out, Cheng Qian as
the senior brother, couldn’t pretend that he didn’t notice. So he put down
the old book and asked with a kind and pleasant countenance, “What’s the
matter?”
“There’s a river in front. I wanted to catch fish for Master and Senior
Brother, but there’s a dog on the bank, it ran after me.” Said Han Yuan.

Cheng Qian sighed to himself. Certainly he was also afraid of vicious dogs.
But Han Yuan’s eyes were darting everywhere and as he had explained, he
was bullied by a dog because he wanted to catch fish for the master and
him. Now he asked his senior brother for help, how could the senior brother
shrink?

He picked up a big stone, weighed it in his hand, and stood up. Then he
said, “Fine. I’ll go with you.” With a kind and pleasant countenance again.

Cheng Qian made up a plan. If by any chance they met the dog, he’d hit the
junior brother’s head with that stone, and make sure his head was beaten to
a broken watermelon, then leave him to that dog.

However, by the time they arrived at the bank, the dog had gone, leaving
several rows of footprints.

Cheng Qian looked down and studied the footprints for a while. He inferred
that the “vicious dog” was less than one Chi in length, and was likely a
small stray dog.

Han Yuan, you bastard! Coward! Idiot! Boaster! And wastrel! You have no
sense of shame and know nothing other than how to fawn Master!

Cheng Qian told off Han Yuan in his heart as he put his hands that were
holding a brick behind his back. Looking mildly at his good-for-nothing
junior brother, he wasn’t in the mood to hit him now — Cheng Qian didn’t
want to bother himself taking umbrage at him.

When they came back with fish, their master was “awake” and looking at
them kindly with gratification.

Once Cheng Qian met his master’s eyes, he had a terrible feeling in his
stomach, and somehow felt like throwing up.
Before he could say anything, Han Yuan had gone up fawningly. He
embroidered a story about “how Senior Brother wanted to eat fish, how he
defeated a dog whose head was as large as a bull, and how he managed to
dive into the river to catch fish”.

Cheng Qian, “…”

He was nearly angered to laughter by his talented junior brother.

Like this, Cheng Qian, with an old charlatan and a little boaster, traveled for
about half a month.

Eventually, they made it to Fuyao Sect.

It was the first time for Cheng Qian to travel so far. Thanks to the company
of his weird master and junior brother, he had experienced many aspects of
the human world, hence he became so composed that he even wouldn’t be
disturbed if mountains collapsed.

At first, he didn’t look forward to the place sounding like a loose

organization. He thought that probably it was also a shabby temple in a
desolate place, where he had to burn joss sticks and kowtow to the
“Founder of Fuyao Sect” who was properly dressed and always wore a
smile.

But now it exceeded all Cheng Qian’s expectations.

Fuyao Sect occupied a whole mountain which was surrounded by water on

three sides. Taking a look up from the foot, Cheng Qian could have a good
view of furious green waves and trees rippling in the breeze.

Chirps of birds and insects mingled with cries of cranes once in a while.
Occasionally he could catch a fleeting glimpse of white silhouettes in the
sky, and feel a magical aura skimming over the mountain there and then.

There were gentle stone steps extending from the foot to the top, and
evidently they were frequently swept. A brook ran down from the top with
clear and far-reaching gurgles.
Going up flights of steps to the mountain waist, Cheng Qian saw dimly
courtyards and houses above. An old stone gate covered with moss stood
majestically at the waist. The two characters “Fuyao” were written on it in a
vigorous but graceful style like dragons flying and phoenixes dancing.

Cheng Qian was unable to tell whether the penmanship was good or bad.
He only had the impression that the two characters were going to come
alive and fly out of the gate, demonstrating some kind of loftiness as if they
could really soar into the sky and dive into the sea.

This place wasn’t some kind of celestial mountain away from the human
world, which was veiled by mist and clouds and where people were free of
worldly cares. Yet there were unspeakable beauties among the mountain. As
soon as Cheng Qian stepped in the mountain, he could feel that he got much
lighter with every breath.

He got a limited view of the palm-sized sky through gaps of green leaves. A
sense of vastness that one could feel when watching the sky from the
bottom of a well flooded him, putting him at such ease that he was itching
to shout and laugh around the mountain.

But Cheng Qian restrained himself — he didn’t dare to shout at home lest
he be beaten by his father. Nor would he now, in case he should lose the
decency he gained through eavesdropping in front of his despicable junior
brother.

Master patted on the heads of his two apprentices, and said kindly, “Now go
to take a bath, burn incense and get your clothes changed [5], then I’ll
take you to visit your…”

“The founder that always wears a smile?” Cheng Qian thought

unconcernedly.

“First senior brother.” Said their master.

 Notes:

[1] shut-door apprentice: last apprentice and is generally favored by the

master.

[2] Tao heart: in narrow sense, the purpose and significance of cultivation.

[3] Zhang: a unit of length equal to 3.3333 meters.

[4] pilfering: the original word literally means “to steal chickens and dogs”,
and it also refers to weasels (as they steal chickens and dogs).

[5]: preparation for a solemn occasion, sometimes a fast is required.

 Chapter 4

Why would a senior master “visit” his apprentice so formally?

Cheng Qian and Han Yuan were in a complete fog, while their master
continued as if he wanted to confuse them more, “No worries. Your first
senior brother is simple-minded; you don’t need to fear him. Just act as I
do.”

Wait, what did you mean by “just act as I do”?

Anyhow, Muchun Zhenren successfully transformed the mist over his two
little apprentices’ heads into thick soup.

As they passed through the gate, a few Taoist children came along the
gurgling brook.

These Taoist children were all in their teens and looked smart and pretty
like Golden Boys (attendants) of genuine immortals. Their sleeves were
fluttering elegantly without wind.

Facing them, even Cheng Qian, who had been conceited all the way,
somehow had a subtle sense of inferiority, not to mention Han Yuan that
was already stupefied.

Owing to the very bit of subtle feeling, Cheng Qian was on the defensive
spontaneously. He subconsciously changed into a stern look, straightened
up his back, and wrapped up his curiosity and ignorance discreetly.

The leader of the Taoist children saw Muchun Zhenren from far away, and
laughing came earlier than his appearance. “Sect Leader, where have you
been this time? How did you get yourself so scrappy? — Oh! The… where
did you abduct the young masters?” He said quite casually.
Cheng Qian studied his every single word and phrase carefully but failed to
find the slightest respect in them, as if the Taoist child wasn’t greeting a
“Sect Leader” but rather a “Uncle Han from the neighbor village”.

Muchun Zhenren didn’t mind at all. He even smiled breezily. Pointing at

Cheng Qian and Han Yuan, he said, “They are my newly accepted
apprentices. Could I trouble you to help them settle down?”

“Where should I settle them?” The Taoist child smiled.

“This one to the South Courtyard.” Muchun Zhenren pointed at Han Yuan
carelessly. Then he lowered his head down and met Cheng Qian’s eyes by
accident or design. His eyes had a clear distinction between black and
white, revealing a hint of innate restraint and unobtrusive fluster of
unfamiliar environments.

The casual smile hanging at the corner of Muchun Zhenren’s mouth

suddenly faded. After a short while, he arranged the place for Cheng Qian
in an almost solemn manner, “Take him to Side Pavilion.”

In fact, “Side Pavilion” wasn’t a pavilion but a small outlying courtyard that
was somewhat secluded. On one side of the wall, there was a tranquil
stream running by; while on the other side, there was a bamboo forest,
which was extremely peaceful.

Presumably the bamboo forest had been here for years, for even breezes
sweeping through would be dyed emerald-green. The whole yard was like
standing in a sea of bamboo, where the fresh green would cleanse one’s
mind of desires.

There was an Eternal Fire with charms hanging at each side of the door of
the yard, which was more exquisite than the “heirloom” of Cheng Qian’s
family. The light halo was soft and wouldn’t flicker in the wind. Between
the two lamps hang a tablet, inscribed with two characters “Qing’an (quiet
and peaceful)”.

Apparently, they were written by the same person as the two characters
“Fuyao” at the mountain waist.
The Taoist child guiding Cheng Qian was named Xueqing, nearly the same
age as Cheng Qian’s big brother. Xueqing was of medium build with
ordinary features, who was the most inconspicuous among those Taoist
children, but looked fairly comely when being watched attentively. He was
taciturn and didn’t enjoy the limelight.

“This is Side Pavilion, also called Qiang’an Dwelling. It’s heard that Sect
Leader once lived here, but he moved out afterwards. It was also used as
Chanting Hall.” Xueqing explained softly, “Does Third Martial Uncle know
what Chanting Hall is?”

Actually Cheng Qian wasn’t very clear, but he nodded, showing little
concern. Following Xueqing into the courtyard, he saw a small pond of one
Zhang square in the center. The holder made of black elm underneath was
carved with charms, presumably for the purpose of stagnating the water —
the water in the pond wasn’t flowing or rippling.

But after taking a closer look, Cheng Qian found it wasn’t a pond but a
huge precious stone.

That stone was neither a jade nor an emerald, but it felt very cool. It was
dark green faintly touched with a shade of blue, emanating chilly and serene
tranquility.

Cheng Qian had never seen such a rare treasure before. Even if he didn’t
want to appear ignorant, he was seized with astonishment momentarily.

“I don’t know what it is, but we call it Peaceful Stone. Sect Leader used to
transcribe scriptures on it. With it, the yard will be much cooler in summer.”
Said Xueqing.

Pointing at the visible charms on the elm holder, Cheng Qian couldn’t resist
his curiosity and asked, “Brother Xueqing, what are these charms for?”

Xueqing didn’t expect Cheng Qian to be so courteous to him. He was dazed

by his polite form of address for a while, and then answered, “You’re
overwhelming me with more than I can bear, Third Martial Uncle — they
are not charms.”
Cheng Qian gave him a glance. Xueqing surprisingly caught a trace of
restrained doubt from his look, as though his eyes could speak. Compared
with the other kid the sect leader brought back, this one appeared more
delicate and attractive.

Xueqing failed to find the proper words to describe his feelings. He could
tell that this kid wasn’t from a noble background and didn’t receive much
education, yet he tried hard to shape himself into a perfect gentleman, but
very clumsily. There was a hint of formality in his every move and act, as if
he was uncertain about which mask he should wear to associate with others.

In brief, he was putting on airs and doing imitations — of no specific

targets.

Generally speaking, affected persons were always annoying even if they

were only kids. But somehow Xueqing didn’t find Cheng Qian nasty.
Contrarily, he felt some compassion for him. So he explained in a mild
tone, “Third Martial Uncle, I am only a servant with poor talents, and take
charge of Sect Leader’s and Martial Uncles’ daily life. The art of charms is
an extensive and profound learning of which I don’t have a smattering. I’ve
caught only a word or two from Sect Leader. Young master, you might as
well go and ask Sect Leader or my… your First Senior Brother.”

Cheng Qian caught the word “my” observantly. Thinking of Taoist

children’s over-intimate and under-respectful attitude towards the sect
leader, his doubts grew even stronger.

Xueqing soon familiarized Cheng Qian with all the furnishings in the room.
He hastily bathed him to wash off the travel weariness, changed his clothes,
and tidied up the house inside and out. Then he led him out.

Cheng Qian fished for information about his first senior brother from
Xueqing, while keeping up his demeanor at the same time. Finally, he
learned that first senior brother’s surname was Yan, and he was named Yan
Zhengming, born in a rich family.

To what extend was his family rich? Cheng Qian wasn’t very clear about it
— he was a destitute child who didn’t have a definite conception of
richness. To his knowledge, the so-called “rich men” were hardly more than
people of Squire Wang’s kind. Wang married his third concubine at sixty. In
Cheng Qian’s opinion, he could count as a super wealthy man.

It was said when Yan Zhengming was seven years old, he ran away from
home because of a trivial matter, and met their crafty… no, astute master
who discovered Yan Zhengming’s talent for cultivation.

With the aid of his facile tongue, the old charlatan inveigled young and
unsophisticated Yan Zhengming into Fuyao Sect successfully, who later
became the very first apprentice of Muchun.

The young master’s disappearance naturally sank the Yans into great
anxiety, they used all their strength and finally found Yan Zhengming who
had gone astray — whether he was enticed by Muchun or he did so by
choice, the young lord just wouldn’t go home and insisted on staying and
cultivating with his master as though he was possessed.

This young master had been spoiled from birth, his family certainly
wouldn’t watch their baby son suffer with a charlatan and do nothing.
Nevertheless, with several disputes producing no results, they compromised
at last. They provided finance for Fuyao Sect, and simply took it that they
were keeping a theatrical troupe as their young master’s entertainment.

There were various categories of cultivation sects in the world, among

which real prestigious righteous sects and heterodox evil ones were very
few, the rest were mostly “pheasant (unauthorized) sects”.

Perhaps sects like Fuyao that were supported by a rich family and thus had
a relatively decent existence, could roughly be called “poultry sects”,
Cheng Qian thought.

And so he understood, their first senior brother was not only their senior
brother, but also the “financial backer of Fuyao sect” and the “very first
apprentice”, who thus occupied the highest position in the sect, and whom
even his master had to curry favor with.
As for first senior brother himself — he was a sheer spendthrift as Cheng
Qian could instantly see through.

He would have accounted for all the four words “lordly, luxury-loving,
loose-living, and idle” perfectly but that he dared not to lead a loose life
because he was only fifteen.

Young master Yan was combing his hair when Muchun Zhenren led his two
neatly dressed apprentices to him — it wasn’t that the sect leader lacked
courtesy and chose to bother first senior brother early in the morning before
he groomed himself, but first senior brother simply would comb his hair
many times a day.

Luckily he was still young, there was no fear of getting bald.

The servant that was entitled to comb first senior brother’s hair must be a
girl, who was neither too old nor too young and should have no defect in
her beauty, no inelegance in her odor. She would do nothing other than
comb hair and burn incense every day, so her hands must be soft and as
white as jade without a disappointing callus.

Taoist children like Xueqing were originally domestic servants of the Yans’.
They were well skimmed off and sent up to the mountain as factotums.

But the young lord didn’t have any Taoist child around him. It was said that
it was because he didn’t like men very much for they were all fingers and
thumbs. Instead, his courtyard was full of pretty personal maids, as if
springtime was resident there.

Before entering the room, Cheng Qian gazed at his master’s goatee secretly
for a while, and he drew a conclusion: Master’s goatee had been combed.

On the way here, Xueqing informed him that Muchun settled him at
Qing’an Dwelling because he wanted Cheng Qian to purge his thoughts and
calm his mind. He felt faintly awkward in a way because he hated to admit
that he had a disturbed mind. Now looking up at the tablet inscribed “Land
of the Tender [1]” above the door, he breathed a sigh of relief — he wasn’t
disturbed, but his master was so aged as to be muddled.
Han Yuan took ignorance as fun and asked childishly, “Master, what’s
written on the tablet?”

Muchun read it to him stroking his mustache. “Does it mean to encourage

Senior Brother to be tenderer?” Han Yuan asked again, staring at his master
blankly.

Hearing that, Muchun went pale and warned, “You mustn’t have your first
senior brother hear that!”

Seeing the honorable sect leader flinched like a stray dog with the tail
between its legs, Cheng Qian and Han Yuan thought alike for the first time,
“Outrageous! Total disregard for the order of seniority!”

Thinking so, they took a look at each other and saw the shock on the face.
Thereupon they tucked their tails as their master did quickly and acquired
the most important skill of Fuyao Sect — to keep a low profile.

As a matter of fact, Cheng Qian was overwhelmed by his first senior

brother’s beauty at first sight.

Young though he was, he looked extremely seductive and was a rare beauty.
He was wearing a snow-white satin robe embroidered with invisible
patterns glittering to the changing of light. He leaned back in the carved
chair limply and rested his chin on his hand, eyelids dropping a little and
hair hanging down loosely like splashed ink.

Hearing the footsteps, Yan Zhengming raised his eyelids indifferently. His
canthi were slim and curled up like a stroke of light ink, radiating rays of
haughtiness and effeminacy. Seeing his master, he showed no intention of
standing up and sat still on the chair. Then he asked sluggishly, “Master,
what did you bring back this time?”

He seemed to be a late developer compared with his peers, as he still

sounded like a juvenile in an androgynous way, with the tone of a pampered
kid.
But what was incredible was that there just appeared to be nothing strange
in his androgyny.

Putting up a smile on his face and rubbing his hands, the sect leader
introduced, “Well, this is your third junior brother, Cheng Qian. And this is
your fourth junior brother, Han Yuan. Both are small and immature. From
now on, as their first senior brother, you should take care of them for me.”

Hearing Han Yuan’s name, Han Zhengming seemed to twitch his eyebrows
and cheeks slightly. He condescended to shoot a glance at his fourth junior
brother from under half-closed lids, and then immediately looked away, as
if his eyes were polluted.

“Han Yuan?” First senior brother commented slowly, seemingly

dissatisfied, “You really lived up to your name and suffered an ugly look.”

Han Yuan had gone green around the gills.

Yan Zhengming left him aside and turned to Cheng Qian.

“That boy,” he said, “come over here.”

 Notes:

[1] Land of the Tender: enthralling experience of enjoying tender female

charms (sometimes used as the name of a brothel).
 Chapter 5

Yan Zhengming’s attitude was impertinent. His gesture of beckoning Cheng

Qian was like calling a dog.

His words and behaviors instantly brought Cheng Qian to himself from the
amazement.

Cheng Qian had never been liked by others since birth. As a result, he
fundamentally felt inferior. As time passed, the sense of inferiority seeped
into his bones and transformed into intense self-esteem verging on paranoia.
A simple look would be enough to arouse his hostility, much less such an
offensive gesture.

Cheng Qian looked as if he’d had a bucket of cold water poured over him in
a severe winter. With no expression on his frozen face, he moved forward
and evaded Yan Zhengming’s outstretched hand, then he routinely bowed to
him in salute saying, “First Senior Brother.”

Yan Zhengming craned to have a good look at him. With his move, a whiff
of perfume of orchids, which was strong enough to expel worms, enveloped
Cheng Qian. God knows how many times he had scented his clothes.

But this young master was seemingly bad at reading other’s face, at least he
didn’t take note that Cheng Qian was on the edge of an eruption of anger.

He even leisurely sized Cheng Qian up as if he was examining the goods.

He probably reckoned Cheng Qian to be passably pleasing to the eye, as he
nodded negligently and expressed his sincere hope for his junior brother
regardless of others’ reactions.

“Not bad. Hope time will not ruin your face.” He said bluntly.
With that, to display the due amiability of first senior brother, the young
master stretched himself to brush his palm over Cheng Qian’s head and
took it as a friendly pat. Then he instructed perfunctorily, “Now I have seen
the ‘Grievance’ and ‘Injustice’ (make fun of Han Yuan’s name), Master,
you can lead them off — um, Yu-er [1](a maid), give some pine-nut candies
to him… each of them.”

Muchun Zhenren’s face twitched a bit. He suddenly had a strange feeling

that the two kids he brought was not the unworthy apprentice’s junior
brothers but rather his maids.

… and maids whose appearances weren’t very pleasing.

Pine-nut candies were not common candies. They were kept in a small
exquisite sachet with every one being plump. There was a glittering and
translucent frosting on the surface, giving off an ineffable refreshing
fragrance.

In reality, poor children would hardly get the chance to eat such exquisite
snacks. But Cheng Qian showed no interest. No sooner had he walked out
of the room than he thrusted the sachet into Han Yuan’s hand. “This is for
Junior Brother.” He said offhandedly.

Han Yuan was dumbfounded by his “generosity”. Embarrassed, he took it

with mixed feelings.

In the world where people like him were all struggling for survival like
stray dogs, the little beggar had been accustomed to scrambling for food all
the time. Who would have the energy to care for others?

Han Yuan felt a momentary warmth in the heart and got a big, crazy
misunderstanding simultaneously — maybe his little senior brother wasn’t
weak or vulnerable at all. Instead, he was really magnanimous and treated
him sincerely.

Muchun Zhenren wasn’t easily fooled. He clearly saw Cheng Qian clap his
hands with antipathy as if he had touched something dirty. He understood at
once that Cheng Qian’s giving away his candies was not an act of modesty
but because he was purely disinclined to show respect for his monster-like
first senior brother.

But by the way, the strongest temptation a kid at his age could face was no
more than food and drinks, Cheng Qian actually resisted that without even a
look.

Muchun Zhenren thought with a tinge of emotion, “This brat is too hard-
hearted. He is doomed to be a demon if he fails to be a hero.”

As thus, little bastard Cheng Qian was formally admitted into Fuyao Sect.

He had a dreamless sleep in Qing’an Dwelling for the first night until a
quarter to four the next day, having no trouble sleeping in a new place and
no nostalgia for home.

The next morning, Xueqing changed his clothes into a robe and combed a
knot out of his hair, dressing him up smartly.

Normally, kids under twenty didn’t need to bind up their hair and wear
caps. But according to Xueqing, he was no longer an ordinary kid since he
was now in an immortal sect.

The biggest distinction between poultry sects and pheasant ones was that
pheasant sects were entirely mucking about, while poultry sects apparently
had considerable resources even though their historical sources were not
quite clear.

For example, the talismans. Priceless talismans in legends were almost

everywhere, even trees and stones were carved with charms. Pointing at the
charms on the root of a tree, Xueqing said to Cheng Qian, “If Third Martial
Uncle gets lost in the mountain, just ask these stones and trees.”

Xueqing came forward to do a demonstration. He whispered to the root, “To

‘Unknown Hall’ — Unknown Hall is Sect Leader’s residence. Martial
Uncle, today you should go there and receive a lecture to be initiated into
the sect.”
Cheng Qian forgot to reply, because he was caught up in the spectacular
scene that the root was giving off faint fluorescence.

The sky just got light but the sun was yet to come up. Luminous spots as
shiny as moonlight clustered together and decorated the dark, suffusing the
forest with some magical auras. These tiny spots floated through the air and
attached themselves to other stones and trees, and finally twisted into a
gleaming pathway through the woods.

Although this wasn’t the first magic tool Cheng Qian had seen, it was the
first useful one!

Xueqing was a good mind reader. He knew this kid was odd-natured and
willful, so seeing he was fascinated, Xueqing didn’t point it out
straightforward and waited until he recovered. Then he reminded
collectedly, “Third Martial Uncle, this way, please. Follow the light.”

Only when he was walking on the path paved with fluorescence, did Cheng
Qian start to feel that he was turning into another kind of person and was
going to lead another kind of life.

“Brother Xueqing, who made these?” Asked Cheng Qian.

Xueqing failed to correct Cheng Qian’s form of address, so he just let him
be. Hearing the question, he answered, “Sect Leader.”

Cheng Qian was shocked again, he found it hard to believe.

Not long ago, in Cheng Qian’s eyes, his master was still a funny long-neck
pheasant that was neither attractive nor useful — could it be possible that he
was actually not a swindler?

Could he have any uncanny powers?

Was Master invincible and able to control the forces of nature?

Cheng Qian imagined that with sort of disbelief, but found it remained
difficult for him to generate real awe of his master.
Following the gleaming pathway, Xueqing led Cheng Qian to the Unknown
Hall.

In fact, “Unknown Hall” was a small thatched cottage, with no magic tools
and no tablet above the door. There was a palm-sized plate at the entrance,
though, crudely carved with a beast head, which Cheng Qian found vaguely
familiar, but the name just escaped him for the moment. Next to the beast
head was a line of characters, it read “not know a thing”.

The cottage suddenly gave Cheng a false impression that he was back at his
home in the countryside, for it was too modest with nearly nothing.

There was a lonely yard in front of the door; a table with three legs was set
there and a stone was placed where the fourth leg should be. Cracks
appeared everywhere on the tabletop. Muchun Zhenren sat bolt upright
behind the table, staring at a saucer attentively.

The saucer was a roughly made pottery, whose shape was between round
and square and the bottom was uneven. Several rusty copper coins were
scattered on it, they together created an indescribable eerie atmosphere.

Cheng Qian paused in spite of himself, for a split second, he felt the master
staring at the coins was quite awe-inspiring.

“What does Sect Leader detect from the Divinatory Trigrams today?”
Xueqing smiled.

Hearing that, the sect leader put away the copper coins solemnly. Tucking
his hands into sleeves, he said slowly, “Tao of Heaven implies, chicken
stewed with mushrooms should be on today’s menu.”

When he said that, he stuck up his mustache a bit, rolled his eyes and
sniffed slightly, expressing his true pulse of craving.

The instant Cheng Qian saw his expression, he found it familiar. Then he
suddenly connected it with the plate at the entrance and the conclusion
came to his mind — the beast head on the plate was a weasel!
Ignorant countrymen knew nothing about oracles, much less Buddhist and
Taoist scriptures. Even the gods they pray to were totally fake, and hence
unorthodox “immortals” like “Immortal Yellow” and “Immortal Green” had
wormed their way into orthodox ones, and became household names.

“Immortal Yellow” referred to weasel spirits, and “Immortal Green”

referred to snake spirits, which was also called “House-Protecting Snake”.
It was said that enshrining the two immortals could protect one’s house and
keep his family safe and sound.

Cheng Qian had seen a memorial tablet set up for Immortal Yellow in his
village, there was just such a beast head on it.

Come to think of this and take a look at Muchun, he saw that he was
scrawny with a small head, a lantern jaw, a long waist and short legs… he
looked like a weasel spirit in every aspect.

With such inexpressible doubts and complicated emotions, Cheng Qian

stepped forward and saluted to his master who was suspected to be a weasel
spirit.

His master gestured at him and chuckled, “Don’t stand on ceremony, that’s
pedantic. Fuyao Sect doesn’t have such etiquettes.”

“What do you have then? Chicken stewed with mushrooms?” Cheng Qian
thought bitingly.

At the very moment, Han Yan’s shouting penetrated through the air into
their ears, “Master! Senior Brother!”

He practiced what his master had only just preached, exclaiming right after
he entered the room, “My God! What a shabby house!”

Then he walked around the yard with the familiarity of a house owner, and
stopped right before Cheng Qian.

The little beggar with no long-term vision had been bought off with a sachet
of candies. Now he firmly believed that Cheng Qian was genuinely good to
him, and thus he stopped calling him “Senior Brother” enigmatically. He
came up to pull Cheng Qian’s sleeves intimately, “Xiao-Qian [1], why
didn’t you come to play with me yesterday?”

Cheng Qian got annoyed on seeing him. He took a half step backwards
quietly and withdrew his sleeves from his grasp, then he said stiffly, “Fourth
Junior Brother.”

Xueqing dressed Cheng Qian up as an adult. So he looked elegant and fine

like a man made of jade, with his smooth forehead and slender eyebrows
exposed. Supposing a man was made of jade, his solitariness would be
forgivable.

Han Yuan himself was a beggar without parents and cultivation. He was
simple-minded — if he couldn’t bear the sight of someone, he would never
possibly like him; while if he bought into the belief that someone a nice
person, he would treat him well in turn — now for him, Cheng Qian was
exactly the later. So he didn’t take offense at Cheng Qian’s indifference in
the slightest, and he thought delightedly, “Unlike us that had a vagrant life,
domesticated kids are shy; I have to look after him in future.” Although that
was only his one-sided thinking.

Muchun Zhenren’s eyes were small but very piercing. He stood aloof and
looked on with indifference for a moment, but he finally couldn’t help
interrupting Han Yuan’s acting cheap, “Xiao-Yuan, come here.”

Han Yuan walked to the shaky table cheerfully, “Master, what do you want
me for?”

Looking him up and down, Muchun Zhenren said solemnly, “You’re older
than your third senior brother, although you’re admitted into our sect later.
So I have to admonish you first.”

Weasel-like Master was ultimately Master. As he rarely adopted a stern

countenance, Han Yuan straightened up his back involuntarily.

“You have an active disposition; frivolity is your weakness.” Said Muchun,

“I shall grant you ‘Solid Rock’ as your precept, which warns that you
should avoid opportunism, vanity and distraction; which reminds you to
focus your thoughts and not to slack off in any case. Understand?”

Han Yuan lifted his head and wiped his runny nose. “Ah?” he uttered
fuzzily — he didn’t understand a single word of the preach.

Fortunately, Muchun paid no attention to his impoliteness. He turned to

Cheng Qian after finishing his words.

Only then did Cheng Qian find out that his master wasn’t born with a pair
of bird eyes, but his eyelids folded inward slightly. In addition, his eyes
were normally half closed and therefore looked as if they were roving. Now
he opened his limpid eyes, revealing the contrast of black and white. His
expression suddenly became very grave.
 Notes:

[1] –er: added to nouns to indicate littleness, intimacy, etc.

[2] Xiao-: used before either surname or given name as a form of endearing
address. Similar to “-chan” in Japanese.
 Chapter 6

“Cheng Qian.”

Cheng Qian wasn’t sure why, but his mater always called Han Yuan “Xiao-
Yuan”, while he called Cheng Qian by full name. He couldn’t tell whether
his master favored him or not from his voice, but there was stress in each
syllable.

Bewildered, Cheng Qian lifted his head, and folded his hands in sleeves
into fists.

“Come.” Muchun Zhenren looked him up and down. Presently he seemed

to realize he was too smileless. He dropped his eyelids a bit and turned back
to the benign weasel. Then he said with his voice softening a little, “Come
here.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand onto Cheng Qian’s head. The faint
temperature of his palm and the incense of wood gradually permeated
Cheng Qian’s body.

That didn’t help as a comfort, however. Cheng Qian remained in a fluster.

He was running his master’s comments on Han Yuan in his head and
thinking anxiously, “What will Master say about me?”

In a fleeting moment, memories of Cheng Qian’s equally fleeting life

flashed through his head. He tried to pick out his own shortcomings before
his master, and get prepared for the coming preach.

He started reflecting in his heart, “Will he say I’m narrow-minded? Or

unkind? Unfriendly?”
However, Muchun Zhenren didn’t point out his shortcomings as he did in
Han Yuan’s case. The sect leader even hesitated for some time, as if he was
having difficulty finding the appropriate wording.

Cheng Qian waited anxiously an unconscionable time until Muchun said

solemnly, word by word for emphasis, “As for you, you know it well in
your heart. So I’ll come straight to the point, I shall grant you ‘Free and
Easy’ as your precept.”

The preach was so simple as to be vague and hard to comprehend right

away. Cheng Qian frowned, all his mental preparations came to naught at
last. But his tension didn’t ease, and conversely, strengthened.

“Master, what’s ‘Free and Easy’?” Cheng Qian blurted out.

But soon he regretted that he had asked, for he didn’t want to appear as
stupid as Han Yuan.

Cheng Qian pulled himself together. With a little diffidence, he struggled to

work out a far-fetched explanation and asked in a probing tone, “Does it
mean to urge me to clear my distracting thoughts and focus on cultivation?”

After a pause, instead of giving a specific explanation, Muchun nodded and

said vaguely, “For now… you could say so.”

For now? What about in the future?

And what was “you could say so”?

Hearing the answer, Cheng Qian was even more at a loss. He even scented a
ghost of uncertain future from Muchun Zhenren’s words. And he could also
tell that his master had no intention of going into details. Due to his
tactfulness form precocity, he barely swallowed his doubts and made a
formal bow to Muchun, saying “Yes, Master. Thanks for your edification.”

Muchun Zhenren sighed noiselessly. Though he looked like a man in the

prime of his life, he was actually so old as to have very rich experience.
And of course he could see things — even though Cheng Qian behaved
with so good manners that he even called the Taoist child who took care of
his living “Brother”, yet evidently it wasn’t because he reckoned others to
be respectful, but he refused to damage the redundant “refinements” in front
of “OTHERS”.

As the proverb goes, “Propriety is the attenuated form of leal-heartedness

and good faith, and is also the commencement of disorder”. Even if this kid
had great insight and exceptional talents, his nature was poles apart Great
Tao. And moreover, Cheng Qian dwelled on things too much to be pleasing
to others… although in view of his haughtiness, assumedly he didn’t care to
be pleasing in the slightest.

Muchun took his hand off Cheng Qian’s head, with the worry that he might
go astray someday.

He overturned the three-legged table and called Han Yuan and Cheng Qian
over.

The reverse side of the wooden table was bestrewn with thousands of
worm-eaten holes, and to their surprise, between the gaps of these holes
were inscribed thickly dotted characters.

“This is what I am gonna teach you at your initiation — the rules of Fuyao
Sect. You two must memorize them word for word, and from today on,
write them down from memory once a day, for a total of forty-nine days.”
Said Muchun.

In face of so many rules, Cheng Qian finally revealed moderate

astonishment — he never felt it was proper to inscribe so sacred sect rules
on the back of a rotten table.

…let alone a three-legged wooden table.

Han Yuan was in the identical astonishment with him.

The little beggar craned his neck and turned pale in shock. “My goodness,
what the hell are these? Master, these characters may know me, but I
definitely don’t know them!” He shouted.
Cheng Qian, “…”

A master who was likely a weasel spirit, a preach that didn’t make sense, a
set of rules that was inscribed on the back of a rotten table, and a senior
brother who was effeminate, as well as a beggar junior brother who was
illiterate… what good results could Cheng Qian expect when the starting
point of his cultivation career was so extraordinary?

Cheng Qian predicted a bleak future.

But when he returned to his dwelling in the evening, his spirits lifted at the
knowledge that he actually had a study. There was not only an immense
number of books but also paper and writing brushes prepared by Xueqing.

Cheng Qian had never written on paper — add his natural parents’ learning
up and they couldn’t necessarily write from one to ten. And naturally there
wasn’t any stationary in their house. These years, by virtue of his
photographic memory, he had learned quite a few characters from the old
Tongsheng secretly. He stored them in his brain and practiced by writing
with a stick on the ground. He had been dreaming of having the four
treasures of the study (i.e. writing brush, ink stick, ink slab, paper).

Cheng Qian got addicted to writing, so he didn’t follow his master’s

instruction — his master only required him to write the rules once a day.
Whereas he was already writing the fifth when Xueqing came to ask him to
have dinner. And he showed no sign of stopping.

The writing brush made from weasel hair was totally different from sticks.
As it was Cheng Qian’s first time to use a brush and paper, the characters he
wrote were naturally intolerable to the eye. But it could be seen that he was
intentionally imitating the handwriting of the rules carved on the table — in
addition to the rules themselves, he even committed every stroke of those
characters to memory.

Xueqing discovered that every time Cheng Qian wrote, he was improving
what he failed to write well last time. He was so absorbed that he sat there
for more than half an hour without taking a break. He even didn’t notice
Xueqing enter the room.
While Cheng Qian had a good sleep the first night, he was too excited to
fall asleep this evening. As long as he closed his eyes, the soreness from his
wrist would attack, and those characters and strokes would jam his mind.

The sect rules must be written by the same person as the tablet of Qing’an
Dwelling. So much did Cheng Qian love his handwriting that he kept
tossing and turning restlessly in bed. The tablet apart, the shabby wooden
table looked as if it was going to break in a few years. From this, Cheng
Qian deduced that it hadn’t been long since the sect rules was inscribed.

Whose handwriting could it be? Master’s?

He turned the problem over in his mind until sleepiness struck. In

unconsciousness, something seemed to show him around Fuyao Mountain,
and led him to Unknown Hall. Baffled, Cheng Qian thought to himself,
“What do I come to Master’s dwelling for?”

But he walked in anyway and saw a person in the yard.

The person was very tall and was supposed to be a man, whose facial
features were unusually blurred, like covered under a black haze. His hands
were terribly pasty, the bones of which were strongly defined. He was like a
wandering ghost.

Cheng Qian was terrified. He took two steps backward subconsciously. But
then he felt concerned about his master, so he emboldened himself to ask,
“Who are you? Why are you in my master’s yard?”

With the lift of the man’s hand, Cheng Qian felt strong attraction, which
suspended him in the air and pulled him over to the man in a wink.

That man raised his hand to touchCheng Qian’s face.

Cheng Qian gave a start of coldness. The man’s hand was so freezing that a
mere touch chilled Cheng Qian to the marrow of his bones.

“Little creature, you’ve got guts.” The man seized Cheng Qian’s shoulder
and chuckled, “Go back!”
Thereupon, Cheng Qian felt a heavy push and jerked awake on his bed, the
dawn yet to break.

The dream dispelled all thoughts of sleep. So he tidied himself up and killed
time by watering flowers in the yard, which made Xueqing deeply ashamed
that he got up later than Cheng Qian until he guided him to Mission Hall.

Mission Hall was a small pavilion in the midst of a clearing, where there
were a few tables and chairs. Although Cheng Qian and Xueqing arrived
very early, there were already Taoist children. They had swept the floor and
boiled water, and was preparing to make tea.

Cheng Qian found a place to sit down silently, and a well-trained Taoist
child served a cup of tea forthwith.

Cheng Qian remained a cool face all the time, but he only sat at the edge of
the seat cautiously — habit became second nature. Once he learned to
suffer hardships, he couldn’t get used to living in comfort. He felt
embarrassing fidgets, watching others working while himself drinking tea.

After the time it took to have a cup of tea, Cheng Qian heard footsteps. He
looked up and saw a strange young man walking up along the alley next to
the pavilion.

The youngster was dressed in a navy robe. He held a wooden sword in his
arms and walked quickly, eyes fixed steadily forward. While his Taoist
child had to run after him awkwardly.

“That’s Second Martial Uncle.” Xueqing whispered to Cheng Qian.

Second Senior Brother, Li Yun. Cheng Qian had seen his name on the board
behind the wicker door of Unknown Hall. So he hurriedly stood up to
welcome him. “Second Senior Brother.”

Li Yuan didn’t expect that someone came ahead of him. Hearing the voice,
he paused, raised his head and shoot a glance at Cheng Qian. His black
eyeballs seemed somewhat larger than normal, and thus his look appeared
cold and not very genial.
Li Yun took a quick look at Cheng Qian. Then he abruptly forced a smile,
which looked malicious, and said, “I’ve heard Master brought back two
junior brothers, is that you?”

Cheng Qian didn’t like Li Yun’s look instinctively. He felt it was like
something ominous. So he replied simply, “It’s me and Fourth Junior
Brother, Han Yuan.”

Li Yun took one step forward and pressed near to him, asking interestedly,
“What’s your name?”

He was like an experienced wolf that spotted a rabbit. Cheng Qian nearly
recoiled, but he didn’t. He stood bolt upright in place and answered
deadpan, “Cheng Qian.”

“Oh, Xiao-Qian.” Li Yun nodded and said with a hypocritical smile, “Nice
to meet you.”

All Cheng Qian could see was his creepy teeth. And he confirmed, as of
now, there wasn’t a second person in Fuyao Sect that he liked apart from his
master.

Nevertheless, his master wasn’t necessarily a PERSON.

After another while, Han Yuan and his master arrived. Han Yuan naturally
sat in front of Cheng Qian and started complaining that Cheng Qian didn’t
play with him, and in the meantime, had a taste of all the snacks on the
table.

Han Yuan sometimes smiled at his master flatteringly, and sometimes

turned around to wink and frown at Cheng Qian, busy but orderly. He
perfectly interpreted the saying “Ugly people make more mischief”.

As to their first senior brother, Yan Zhengming, he was late for a full half
hour. Then he came yawning.

Absolutely, he would never possibly come on foot — he came in chair, as a

matter of fact. He asked two Taoist children to carry the cane chair all the
way here from Land of the Tender.

A good-looking maid taking quick short steps fanned him from behind. And
another Taoist child next to him was holding up a sunshade.

Yan Zhengming’s robe was fluttering in the wind and his hems were like
clouds in the sky. In an exaggerative manner, the young master arrived.

It looked as though he wasn’t here for morning classes, he came to stir up

trouble.

Upon entering the Mission Hall, first senior brother glanced sideways at Li
Yun arrogantly, his eyebrows showing off disgust. Then he took a sweeping
look at Han Yuan and the unfinished cakes on the table, after which he
swished his folding fan open and covered up his eyes, in case his pure eyes
were stained.

In the end, he had no choice but to walk to Cheng Qian’s side angrily. The
Taoist child around promptly wiped the stone stool four times, then laid a
cushion on it and brewed a cup of tea. Next, he put the hot tea onto a saucer
with charms. Magically, the saucer cooled the eat which had just been
steaming so soon that the cup was covered with a layer of moisture. Only
then did Yan Zhengming take a sip reluctantly.

With all the procedures done, Young Master Yan finally took a seat.

While Li Yun was inured to the scene and regarded Yan Zhengming as air,
Han Yuan was stunned. His expression looked like that he was exclaiming
“what the f**k”.

Having watched the whole process closely, even Cheng Qian, who had
always been sarcastic, felt speechless at this point.

Thus began the chaotic morning class of Fuyao Sect, in Muchun’s four
apprentices’ loathing for each other.
Yan Zhengming probably showed up like this:
 Chapter 7

Maybe their master’s bumpy saucer and rusty coins were really useful and
he somehow foresaw this scene, as he looked well prepared.

With eyelids drooping, Muchun Zhenren stepped up to the podium,

ignoring the undercurrent among his naughty apprentices. He said
sluggishly, “For today’s morning class, I want you to read Scriptures on
Clarity and Stillness after me.”

Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness here wasn’t the same thing as Wondrous
Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness, as Spoken by the Most High
Lord Lao. It was only a piece of rambling repetitive talk, which was, in all
probability, fabricated by the master himself, as its content was largely
unintelligible.

Probably to show clarity and tranquility distinctly, Muchun Zhenren

prolonged each character into two as he read. His drawl almost suffocated
him, resulting in a striking vibrato in the last syllable of every sentence,
which made him sound like an insane laodan [1] with a puckered mouth.

Cheng Qian listened for a moment and his ears began ringing — so loudly
that he had his heart in his mouth, he was afraid that his master was meant
to murder him.

Eventually, their master finished reading, gasping. He leisurely sipped from

the teacup in front of him to soothe his throat. Cheng Qian hastily flapped
the goose pimples off his body, and was waiting expectantly for his mater’s
brilliant remarks on charms and magic when he hopelessly heard his
master’s nauseating drawling voice again. “Okay, let’s read once again.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Cheng Qian felt an impolite pat on his shoulder. His showy but useless first
senior brother accosted him initiatively.

“Hey, kid.” Said first senior brother. “Budge over.”

First senior brother was the most precious treasure of Fuyao Sect. If he
asked, Cheng Qian dared not go against him.

Young master Yan lifted his eyelids, and Taoist children around him moved
over a bamboo Beauty Chair [2] right away without prodding. He reclined
on it and openly closed his eyes in his master’s presence, then started
napping in the thundering sound of “stillness”.

After observing for a while, Cheng Qian discovered some strong points of
his monster-like first senior brother — he didn’t snore when sleeping, for
example.

Perhaps other people had been used to this. When first senior brother was
having a brazen doze, second senior brother had mixed with his little junior
brother in a short time, and simultaneously, didn’t give up co-opting Cheng
Qian, for he kept winking and frowning at him.

Of the four apprentices present, only Cheng Qian was relatively lenient
towards their master. His lenience and harshness were always clearly
demarcated, but they were both faithful and meticulous. In the chaotic
mess, only Cheng Qian sat motionlessly like a mountain and finished the
“routine morning reading” with his master, so that the morning class didn’t
become his master’s monologue.

Seeing that Cheng Qian didn’t even bother to acknowledge him, Li Yun
rolled his eyes and came up with an idea. He shipped a small porcelain
bottle out of his sleeve and shook it before Han Yuan. He murmured, “Do
you know what this is?”

Directly Han Yuan took it over and opened it, a horrible stink washed over
him and made him light-headed. Even Cheng Qian sitting behind him was
unluckily involved.
“This is magic water, Golden Toad Liquid. I made it myself.” Li Yun said
smugly.

“Isn’t it water that bathed toads’ feet?” Cheng Qian snorted.

Han Yuan covered his nose with his fingers and gave back the alleged
“magic water”. Enduring the stink, he asked, “What’s it for?”

Li Yun smirked and scrunched the rice paper on his desk into a ball. Then
he dripped a few drops of magic water on it. As the water seeped into the
paper speedily, the paper ball turned into a live toad in the blink of an eye.

There were various beasts and birds all over the world, why did he only
pick out toads to play with? What a weird and sickening interest!

Cheng Qian was starting to understand why first senior brother looked at
second senior brother as if looking at a shit.

Li Yun looked up and met Cheng Qian’s eyes. Grinning, he poked the toad
with his pen and said pointing at Cheng Qian, “Go after him.”

The toad croaked and ran towards Cheng Qian. But it was nipped by a
skinny hand midway — their master sneaked close to them unnoticed. The
toad turned back to a normal paper ball in his hand.

“Heretical tricks.” Muchun Zhenren sighed as if chanting. “You’ve got a

real talent, Xiao-Yun.”

Li Yun stuck out his tongue at him.

“If so, now you lead your junior brothers to read.” Said his master.

Li Yun had no option but to force a eunuch’s voice and spent approximately
an hour reading the small paragraph of Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness
repeatedly for at least a dozen times, until his master eventually showed
mercy by calling for a halt and put the endless torment into an end.

“I am gonna pee if he goes on reading.” Han Yuan whispered to Cheng

Qian, shivering.
Cheng Qian sat stiffly, pretending not to be acquainted with him.

Having sat in repose for over an hour, their master looked radiant. He said,
“Quiet reading should go with active motion. All of you, get out with me —
oh, Cheng Qian, wake your first senior brother up.”

Cheng Qian didn’t anticipate such a misfortune would fall upon him. He
turned aside and looked at the youth in white. Then he steeled himself to
reach out a finger and poked him on the shoulder like touching a flame. He
thought with his heart in his boots, “It’s Master that asked me to wake you
up, don’t take your anger out on me.”

First senior brother seemed to have a sweet sleep, as he didn’t get angry. He
opened his eyes that was blurred with sleep, and stared at Cheng Qian for
quite a while, then he took a deep breath and crawled out of the chair. He
feebly waved his hand and said, “Got it… you can go first.”

Half-awake young master Yan appeared to have a better temper. His peach-
blossom (amorous) eyes were misting and his gaze at Cheng Qian thus
softened a lot.

Afterwards, Yan Zhengming asked with a gentle expression, “Oh, one more
thing, what’s your name again?”

“… Cheng Qian.”

“Oh.” Yan Zhengming nodded indifferently. Compared with his undisguised

disgust for Li Yun and his behavior of covering up his face before Han
Yuan, His attitude towards Cheng Qian was reasonably polite.

With that “Oh”, Yan Zhengming paid no more attention to Cheng Qian. He
covered his yawn with a hand and sat still in place, waiting for his maid,
Yu-er, to comb his hair.

Cheng Qian once suspected that his coquettish first senior brother was in
effect a pheasant spirit with a colorful tail. But seeing the scene, he cast off
the speculation — at this rate, even a real pheasant would inevitably
become a tailless two-feet monster someday.
First senior brother still had a thick hair. This illustrated that he was only
possibly some kind of more unthinkable animal.

In the yard, a Taoist child came over and presented a wooden sword to
Muchun with both hands.

Cheng Qian and Han Yuan brightened into alert attention at once. They
grew up hearing stories where immortals treaded on thin air and traveled on
flying swords. Despite the fact that Cheng Qian was the victim of the
saints’ books, he was essentially a little boy. There was a yearning for
legendary powers to summon wind and call for rain in the cockles of his
heart, however he denied that.

The wooden sword had an ancient simplicity, oozing some kind of

historical heaviness. In boys’ world, bizarre alchemy, profound scriptures,
the feat to learn one’s previous incarnation and prophesy his life beyond
through stargazing, and even the ability to make powerful talismans… none
of them could bear the comparison with the term “travel on flying swords”
in terms of attractiveness.

What was going through the Heavenly Tribulation and ascending to

immortality, compared with flying swords?

Even the magnificent feat of mounting the clouds and riding the mist would
give its way to legends where the piercing chilliness could sweep across
fourteen continents with the arc of a sword.

Muchun Zhenren moved his fragile arms and legs, and walked slowly to the
center of the yard. He was as thin as a pole hung with clothes.

Full of expectations, Han Yuan asked what Cheng Qian felt embarrassed to
ask. “Master, are you going to teach us how to use swords? When can we
wield a sword?”

Muchun: “Don’t worry, I’ve got wooden swords for you.”

With that, under the public expectation, he flapped his arms and made an
opening move infirmly. Then he started demonstrating every posture and
movement, and at the same time, he muttered, “Fuyao — Wooden
Swordplay — build your body — circulate Qi (Vital Energy) — stimulate
blood flow — live to — immortality.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

His embryonic dream of controlling natural forces shattered in the “glint

and flash of swords”.

Master’s “brilliant” swordplay soon attracted a sparrow to perch on the

wooden stake beside him and look.

This was definitely the quietest swordplay in the world. The sword was too
forceless to disturb the air a bit. Even a snail could climb up to the top of a
tree during the time for the sword to sweep around.

Combined with their master’s enigmatic commentary, the effect was

“impressive”.

With a stride, Muchun turned around, bent over and stretched out the sword
in a sidelong way. Then he tottered to the sparrow on the stake.

The little sparrow was exceedingly audacious. He gazed at the approaching

sword, his black bean-like eyes wide open.

Muchun warned unblushingly, “Little sparrow, mind out of the way or my

sword will kill you!”

In actuality, his sword didn’t reach the sparrow’s feet until he finished long-
winded sentence. Hearing the “ferocious” warning, the little sparrow lifted
a foot in no hurry and stepped forward, exactly over the “sharp sword”, then
watched the gentle sword image fade away.

Han Yuan had been rolling in the aisles. Cheng Qian also found it ridiculous
— the martial arts that a street performer in his village practiced wasn’t so
hilarious as the wooden sword. But he didn’t burst into laughter, for he
found senior brothers didn’t — first senior brother was understandable as he
was combing hair and it was inconvenient for him to bend double with
laughter, while the toad-aholic second senior brother had certain reference
value.

Just now Li Yun was like sitting on a bed of nails, but now, his face, which
always appeared malicious, betrayed some attentiveness. His eyes were
glued to his master, who was like a lama dancing to exorcise demons.

Their master performed the full set of the first form of Fuyao Wooden
Sword, and ended with a posture as a roc standing on one foot. He stretched
out his arms in line, held the sword and craned his neck as if he was gazing
into distance. He stood unsteadily and said, “This is the first form of Fuyao
Wooden Sword, the Roc’s Long Flight [3]!”

However, he didn’t look like a roc spreading his wings but was rather like a
rooster crowing.

Han Yuan covered up his mouth, his simmered laughter reddened his face.

His master didn’t tolerate him this time. He hit Han Yuan’s head with the
wooden sword — his move was yet much neater than just now.

“What did I tell you? Focus your thoughts! Don’t be frivolous!” Muchun
Zhenren rapped. “What are you laughing at, huh? Unreasonable! Make five
copies of Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness and hand it to me tomorrow.”

As Han Yuan didn’t know how to read, his copying the sect rules had been
delayed. Hearing the sharp rebuke, he immediately adopted his last resort
and said shamelessly, “Master, I can’t read yet.”

“Make rubbings and imitate the script — Li Yun!”

Second senior brother advanced.

“You take junior brothers to practice the opening move and first form. And
I’ll give you guidance on second form later.”

“I’ve heard It’s been over a year since he was initiated, but he is only at the
stage of second form. Did he spend the year practicing crowing like a
cock?” Cheng Qian thought.
As he was surprised, Li Yun already stood stiffly, straightened his face and
took up the wooden sword, then he performed a neat opening move, which
surprisingly revealed the vigorous ambition of a young lad. His half-dead
middle-aged master wasn’t remotely comparable to this vital youngster.
This young man was named after green bamboos, and his posture was also
like elegant bamboos. His sword emitted swooshes as it cleaved through the
air, and the winds from the sword were fairly aggressive with great force.

That was the spirit of youth. Invincible spirit!

The little sparrow that was imperturbable just now panicked. He flapped his
wings and spurted into the sky.

Before Cheng Qian and Han Yuan brought themselves back to earth, their
second senior brother shouted loudly with a stern face, “Fuyao Wooden
Swordplay! Build your body! Circulate Qi and stimulate blood flow! Live
to immortality!”

… the youth swordsman turned into a power pill seller in an instant.

However, Li Yun didn’t feel an ounce of shame. Finishing the words, he

even turned around and grimaced at his stunned junior brothers.
 Notes:

[1] laodan: old female role in Chinese opera.

[2] Beauty Chair: a kind of Chinese traditional bench with lazy back which
wins its name for being sat by beauties and leaned along their waist.

[3] the roc’s long flight: a roc can reach a destination of a myriad miles
away at one jump — (said of those who) have bright future.
 Chapter 8

Yan Zhengming polished his wooden sword with a silk handkerchief

deliberately, while watching his junior brothers practicing swordplay.

Junior brothers’ swordplay was literally a joke to him. Except that Li Yun’s
was presentable, the other two were basically having fun with the wooden
swords, just like big apes playing two rods. But their master was still
correcting their gestures of holding a sword.

One moment he said to this one, “Wooden swords don’t hurt, but real
swords and sabers do. To deal with weapons, you can’t be too careful —
Cheng Qian, don’t push your finger against the blade. The nerves of your
fingers are linked with your heart, can’t you really feel that pain?”

Next he turned to another. “There is a saber weighing three hundred Jin [1]
in East Sea, which you hold with both hands. But this is a sword, Xiao-
Yuan. I suppose you are not practicing swordplay, but rather forging iron.”

And sometimes he would have to roll up his sleeves and run about to stop
Li Yun’s making trouble. “Knock it off! Hey, mind your sword! You’re
poking your eye.”

… To say “unbearable to the eye” was to praise these brats.

Young master Yan looked around and laid his eyes on Cheng Qian, taking a
few more looks at the kid.

He was well aware that he was a man-about-town, still he deemed it

appropriate as he didn’t perform any inhuman acts, and his behaviors
hindered nobody. So he felt no qualms of conscience and never repented.
He even intensified in accordance with timing and mood.
In addition, young master Yan also acknowledged he was somewhat
shallow — he had a clear estimation of himself that he was hugely short of
both acquirements and moral qualities. Such being the case, he wasn’t in a
position to demand them from others. Consequently, the only way he had
left to differentiate his likes from dislikes was to judge by appearance.

According to this standard, people of Han Yuan’s kind were unpardonably

evil in his eyes.

“Judging by appearance” was Yan Zhengming’s iron-forged principle.

However, he had made exceptions for two: one was his master, the other
was Li Yun.

Even though his master looked as though he was replete with vices, young
master Yan was willing to excuse that. After all, he had been cultivating
with him for eight years; he was, as it were, spoiled by his master, and was
emotionally close to him.

As for Li Yun… however sightly he was, Yan Zhengming was absolutely

irreconcilable with him — that guy was a bloody nuisance!

In the case of Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming was, in actual fact, fairly fond
of him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have given him candies upon meeting him
— something seldom happened as the cycas blossoms — the pity was that
his third junior brother didn’t appreciate his kindness.

While junior brothers were running around making a racket, Yan

Zhengming just stood there absently, idly carrying his wooden sword. He
was mulling over the standstill of his sword skills.

It was eight years since Yan Zhengming began learning swordsmanship

from his master. But he barely made it to the third form.

Although the opening move his master performed was like Five-Animal
Exercises (aerobics) aimed for the middle-aged and elderly, there was no
absurdity in the sword art itself.
Unlike the nescient little beggar Han Yuan, before Yan Zhengming was
initiated into Fuyao Sect, his parents had employed the best professional to
teach him swordsmanship. Even if he wasn’t skillful, he wasn’t blind either.

The Fuyao Wooden Swordplay had five forms in total, namely, “the Roc’s
Long Flight”, “Seek and Pursue”, “Backfire”, “Decline from Prosperity”,
“Return to Trueness”, with twenty-five moves for each, producing countless
variations. As his age increased, Yan Zhengming often had an illusion that
this set of sword art was all-embracing. To pause and reflect, he found from
every point derived infinite possibilities.

But his master never shed light on them. He’d only demonstrate the basic
moves, and all enlightenment came with Yan Zhengming’s own efforts and
digestion.

Yan Zhengming had made several attempts to ask his master why he
wouldn’t go into particulars about these ingenious moves, only to let him
get away by playing the fool.

Yan Zhengming pondered for a while. Then he stood up to go through the

third form, “Backfire”.

It was inglorious and embarrassing to say that he had been stuck in the form
for a good two years, even if he wasn’t a pursuer of literary or military
accomplishments, and was merely an indolent teenager.

The name “Backfire” was honestly apropos. However many times Yan
Zhengming had rectified his moves, he failed to figure out where the rub
was and couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something not right in
his every move.

Yan Zhengming stopped practicing, and scowled at his wooden sword.

The waiting-on Taoist children and maids instantly rushed to fan him and
wipe off his sweets.

Unfortunately, this time they rubbed him up the wrong way. The young
master just hit a bottleneck in swordplay, and was flighty and unsettled at
the moment. Now being disturbed by the idiots, it was even harder for him
to grab the trace of the indistinct inspiration.

He swept his hand vigorously and raged, “Scram, don’t get in the way here!
From now on, never come over when I was practicing swordplay!”

The maid Yu-er asked timidly in a hurry, “Young Master, is that a new
rule?”

Where was the question coming from? It was only because young master
Yan was so unoccupied that he always made trouble out of nothing and
made many “rules” — such as clothes and shoes should correspond in color,
when to comb his hair, how many times the table in his study should be
wiped a day, he must have a cup of cold tea that catered to his taste before
speaking in the morning… similar cases were numerous.

Probably the emperor didn’t have so many bad habits as him. If the maid
had been a bit less clever, she was unlikely to remember them all.

Young master Yan’s countenance didn’t moderate. His upper lip touched his
lower lip, and a new rule burst out of his throat. “From now on, don’t come
over unless asked when I am practicing swordplay. — You make a spectacle
of yourself!”

Hearing his words by accident, Cheng Qian was surprised that his first
senior brother actually knew the phrase “make a spectacle of yourself”.

“Apprentice.” Muchun Zhenren who was instructing Cheng Qian hacked

and said.

Yan Zhengming turned around and his eyes fell upon Cheng Qian. The boy
didn’t look straight at him, showing the typical manner of an inexperienced
child from a poor family, as he lowered his head “sheepishly” and followed
his master’s steps closely.

… “sheepishly” having a dig at the sect’s funny incidents where it was

concealed from view.
Pointing at Cheng Qian, Muchun said, “Your second junior brother is too
busy to take care of both. You take the job to instruct your third junior
brother.”

Actually, Li Yun was far more than busy! He was almost pulling down the
pavilion with Han Yuan.

Yan Zhengming didn’t sort his own problem out yet, and wasn’t in the
mood to help others. Hearing the words, he frowned, and took advantage of
his master’s indulgence to erupt all his impatient complaints at him.

He hardly realized that Cheng Qian was way more resentful. Cheng Qian
didn’t understand why master wouldn’t instruct him personally. What was
first senior brother capable of, anyway?

Teaching him how to make his nose look high-bridged in the mirror?

Yan Zhengming ultimately showed due respect for his master in junior
brother’s prescence. He swallowed his objections on the tip of his tongue,
controlled his patience and inquired, “Master, I felt something wrong with
the third form.”

“What’s wrong?” Muchun Zhenren asked with a kind and pleasant

countenance.

Everything was wrong. The Qi didn’t circulate smoothly, and Yan

Zhengming felt great resistance in his entire body as if rivers were flowing
upstream.

Although he understood that in his mind, he just couldn’t put into words
that sort of mysterious and abstruse feeling. There was a host of words
ready in his throat, but they somehow got lost on the way to his mouth. At
last, Yan Zhengming ended up blurting out “It’s like… it’s not beautiful.”

Cheng Qian once again confirmed that his first senior brother was a sheer
blockhead wearing gold and silver.
His master beamed and said equivocally, “More haste, less speed. You
should wait a little.”

The good-for-nothing master was always beating around the bush by talking
far-fetched and dull nonsense whatever the question.

Yan Zhengming had been used to this for a long time, but he couldn’t help
acting in a pettish manner and pressed on, “How long do I have to wait?”

“Until you are a few Cun [2] taller, perhaps.” Muchun Zhenren replied
softly.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

There were always several days in a month when he felt like murdering his
master.

After finishing his words, Muchun left Cheng Qian to the sect’s “most
precious treasure” and strolled back to the pavilion to enjoy his tea.

Fuyao Sect followed consistently the ancient tradition that “the master
teaches the trade; the apprentice’s skill is self-made”. Their nonprofessional
master never displayed the slightest true ability. He only provided a
theoretical framework, and whatever they filled it with.

Yan Zhengming flashed an upset look at his cold third junior brother. But he
had nothing to say to him. So he plopped himself down on a seat as if in a
fit of pique, and lazily leaned against the stone table. Then a Taoist child
came up, took away his wooden sword with both hands, and wiped it
carefully with a white handkerchief.

Maybe the Taoist child hadn’t even treated his own face so gently.

Subsequently, young master Yan bounced up as if a corpse suddenly rose.

He wrinkled his slender eyebrows and glared his displeasure at Yu-er. But
he refused to give the hint and remained in silence. The little girl turned
pale at once and was near to tears.
In the end, it was Xueqing who was waiting for Cheng Qian that couldn’t
stand watching and reminded her in a low voice. “The stone stool is cold.”

Only then did Yu-er realize that she just now seated the pampered young
master directly on the stone stool. The young master was blaming her for
her negligence!

She hurried forward as she wept, and placed three cushions as quickly as a
lightning, as if she had committed a crime for which she deserved to die ten
thousand deaths.

Yan Zhengming darted an another quick glare at her, and descended to take
the seat reluctantly. Then he raised his chin towards Cheng Qian. “Go on
practicing, I am watching. You can ask me if any problem.”

Cheng Qian simply took his first senior brother as muddy air that obstructed
his view. He didn’t even bother to answer, and made up his mind to take no
notice of him so that he could fully concentrate on his wooden sword.

Cheng Qian gained an extremely good memory through years of

eavesdropping in the tree. Plus, his master’s demonstration was snailish. So
his moves reappeared clearly in mind as Cheng Qian recalled.

By virtue of his memory, he cautiously imitated his master’s shaky moves,

and compared them with his own timely, in order that he could correct
himself ahead of the gadfly behind him.

His ability of imitation could even dwarf monkeys. Yan Zhengming was
unconcerned at first, but gradually, his attention was drawn to Cheng Qian
— this brat made bold to separate the moves of the first form on the basis of
master’s mnemonic rhymes.

He repeated the separated moves at his master’s slow pace. And when he
got more familiar, his eyes suddenly sharpened. At the very moment, Yan
Zhengming laid down his hand that was reaching for the teacup
involuntarily — he found the vigor residing within the tip of the sword
strangely familiar. This boy was modeling himself on Li Yun!
After all Cheng Qian was only imitating, and considering his young age and
lack of strength, he couldn’t inspire the same imposing spirit as Li Yun by a
long shot. But with that vigor, his wooden sword made a sudden change —
as if a piece of paper lying flat on the ground swelled into a solid.

But the outline was still vague. Leave aside the fact that his swordplay
couldn’t be mentioned in the same breath with Li Yun’s, it was arguable
whether his basic moves were right or not.

That moment gave Yan Zhengming an insight, however. He thought he

might have seen the will of Fuyao Wooden Sword.

Sword will was not a peach on the tree, nor a fish in the water. Without
decades of unremitting efforts and without body and sword as one, it was
impossible to form the sword will — in Cheng Qian’s case, however, of
course he couldn’t possibly form the sword will just by making some
simple moves. It would be good enough if he could hold the sword steadily
and make sure it didn’t drop on his foot.

But the young lad just stepped into an immortal sect, his frame of mind
coincidentally corresponded to the first form “the Roc’s Long Flight”. Yan
Zhengming bethought himself of the feeling when he saw talismans all over
the mountain for the first time. That was fresh, curious, and full of
irrepressible hopes for future…

Perhaps that all didn’t amount to the “sword will”, but the Fuyao Wooden
Sword happened to coincide with the wielder’s frame of mind, and
automatically guided the wielder.

Yan Zhengming jumped to his feet. Watching Cheng Qian’s practicing

swordplay accidentally enabled him to touch the essence of the problem
that had puzzled him for so long — the kaleidoscopic changes of the sword
art, and why his master never explained — the sword art itself was alive, it
explained.

The reason why Yan Zhengming started to feel his ability fell short of his
wishes from the second form “seek and pursue”, and why it became even
more difficult to continue when he reached the third form, was now brought
to light — it was because he knew neither the taste of seeking and pursuing
nor the meaning of “backfire”.

The wooden sword couldn’t guide him anymore.

 Notes:

[1] Jin: a unit of weight (= 0.5 kilogram).

[2] Cun: a unit of length (= 3.33 centimeters).

 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 9

Having figured that out, Yan Zhengming knew he should go down the
mountain on a journey.

Sufferings and miseries could exercise a man’s body, while delight of

meeting and grief of parting could temper a man’s mentality.

Although Fuyao Wooden Swordplay was only a primary swordplay, it

implicated the ups and downs of a mortal life. It was not something created
from imagination and divorced from reality. If he kept hanging around in
the Land of the Tender, one thousand or ten thousand years would bring the
same result, that his pace would be forever unable to catch up to the ever
changing world.

Not everybody could get enlightened as luck would have it. If an ordinary
cultivator could find out where the rub was, they would probably be
delirious with joy, and take the bull by the horns to strive for a
breakthrough.

But was young master Yan anywhere near ordinary?

The words “go down the mountain on a journey” only flashed into his head
for a split second, and then were rapidly submerged by his imagination of
the hardships and inconveniences of an arduous journey.

Speaking of going down the mountain, Yan Zhengming felt a terrible

headache at the bare of idea of how many pieces of luggage he would have
to take, and his laziness would rebel against him and take the control of his
body, hampering him from heading for a promising future.

“Traveling? Whatever! I am not going anyway — screw the bottleneck,

who cares.” The young master thought. He finally decided not to lend
himself to worries.

Yan Zhengming had made up his mind to neglect the bit of nonfluency in
his moves. He deluded himself into thinking that he had mastered it as he
remembered the moves, and was planning to ask his master for the fourth
form tomorrow.

The unambitious and perfunctory first senior brother began to slack off
comfortably. He tossed several stones at his fourth junior brother who was
climbing up the tree for the bird nest, accurately, but with moderate
strength.

Looking at Han Yuan howling on the ground, Yan Zhengming felt that he
had made an achievement in cultivation and there was no need for him to be
too serious.

At midday, the mutual torture for the master and his apprentices came to an
end.

Everyone except first senior brother went back to their own yard for lunch
and rest, and would practice independently in the afternoon — those who
were unwilling to practice could play with monkeys in the mountain.

Muchun Zhenren gave his apprentices enough freedom. He only warned

them to obey the sect rules and not to wander around the mountain in the
evening of the first and fifteenth day of every month.

Only Yan Zhengming had to stay and continue to face his master’s wizened
face in the afternoon.

Seeing Taoist children successively bringing wood and a graver, Li Yun

explained to his junior brothers, “They are used for carving charms. Charms
are categorized into two groups, visible charms and invisible charms.
Visible charms are inscribed on material objects; the most common is the
wood. Some ace masters can also use gold as material. Invisible charms are
way more powerful, they can be inscribed in the water and on the air, even
mere thoughts can make them — that is a legend though, as none ever saw
one. Probably only almighty beings can make it.”
Cheng Qian feigned disinterest, but was actually straining his ears.

After all, charms were the root of magic tools, and magic tools were the
most direct impression of cultivation for ordinary people.

Han Yuan came closer and asked intimately, “Second Senior Brother, what
is an almighty being?”

Li Yun grinned at him and said, “Nowadays, who on earth dare to claim to
be almighty? True almighty beings have already ascended to the heaven.”

Han Yuan didn’t have a good impression of first senior brother, but he also
knew he couldn’t afford to provoke him. On top of that, the little beggar
didn’t have so high self-esteem as Cheng Qian, and he wasn’t the sort of
person to bear a deep grudge, a sachet of pine-nut candies was enough to
make him give up his hatred with a smile.

Watching Yan Zhengming’s relaxed figure admiringly, he asked Li Yun

eagerly, “Senior Brother, when can we learn that?”

“We can’t learn it yet.” Li Yun waved his hand and said in mock regret. “To
learn charms, you should have energy feel first — don’t ask me what
energy feel is, I don’t know either. According to Master, it is a mysterious
ability to communicate with the heaven and earth… but as you will know in
the future, you can’t take his words too seriously because they are abstruse
and don’t make sense.”

Li Yun had a mean curling mouth, which made him look like he was
smiling all the time. But when he actually smiled, he looked even more
vicious. Speaking of this, he paused purposely and frowned affectedly.
“However, due to poor talents or bad luck, some people may never have
energy feel.”

At that, Han Yuan tensed and straightened up unconsciously. “That’s a

pity.”

“Of course it is.” Said Li Yun. “Without energy feel, however proficient we
are in swordplay, we can do nothing more than keep fit with it.”
To start with, Cheng Qian didn’t take Li Yun’s words to heart, because he
had concluded that Yan Zhengming was only a macaroni. If even a
macaroni could acquire energy feel after frittering away seven or eight
years, he might as well give up on cultivating and go back to being a farmer
or trading, if he couldn’t do at least this much.

But at this point, Cheng Qian had perceived the insinuation and hook in Li
Yun’s words.

Cheng Qian turned around. Looking straight at Li Yun, he asked in a lazy

tone, “Second Senior Brother, you sound like you already know the method
to arouse energy feel, right?”

Li Yun smiled at him, his eyes as well as brows crinkled into crooks. He
didn’t respond though, instead, he stared at Cheng Qian meaningfully.

But Cheng Qian wouldn’t be hooked. He said indifferently, “Oh. That’s

awesome. May senior brother get what you wish soon.”

If a method to arouse energy feel really existed, why hadn’t Li Yun tried it
out himself? Evidently he had an axe to grind and wanted a fall guy to test
for him.

The brat was oversensitive, Li Yun thought as his crooked eyes twitched.

But Han Yuan could hardly repress his curiosity. He pursued impatiently
right away, “What? What method?”

Li Yun thus shifted from Cheng Qian to Han Yuan. But he kept him in
suspense. “I can’t say, or I will break the rule.”

Though what he was saying was “I can’t say”, he sounded like “come and
ask”.

Li Yun dug a huge hole in front of him, and Han Yuan was so cooperative
that he jumped in without demur.

Han Yuan seemed to think that he became good friends with his second
senior brother during the toad incident. He kept pumping Li Yun for the
answer. With all his pretended dodging failed, Li Yun was “compelled” to
reply in whispers, “I’ve read a book about sceneries of Fuyao mountain. It
says that there’s a strong monster pressed down under the mountain, and
every night of the first and fifteenth day of the lunar month, the monster’s
demonic energy will echo with the moon, and pure and turbid energy
veiling the mountain will swirl and surge. At that time, if one stands on the
caves where the two energies meet, even a mortal could easily obtain
energy feel.”

Then he suddenly changed his tone. “Of course, sect leader — our master
has commanded, we are not allowed to go out of the yard on these two
nights. The cave in the mountain is especially a forbidden area.”

Han Yuan seemed to be lost in thought at his words.

“Junior brothers shouldn’t have finished writing the sect rules 49 times yet.
It is written plainly that you have to cultivate in a systematic way. You own
good aptitudes, so you will have energy feel sooner or later. It’s not
worthwhile to take a shortcut by breaking the rules. Do you agree, third
junior brother?” Li Yun pretended to be exhorting them.

“Of course second senior brother.” Cheng Qian smiled stiffly.

Li Yun: “…”

Li Yun scrutinized Cheng Qian from head to toe. His reticent third junior
brother was thin and tiny as though he hadn’t reached the age of growth,
and no one would see his face once he lowered his head.

Li Yun developed a temporary confusion about whether his third junior

brother’s inarticulacy was because of his young age and cowardice or a
result of his oversensitivity.

Cheng Qian’s echoing his words placed Li Yun in dilemma. He forced a

smile and said, “Third junior brother is well-mannered indeed.”

Not far away, Yan Zhengming took over a bowl of osmanthus and plum
soup from a Taoist child’s hands. He lifted his head and happened to see the
scene. He had always felt that Li Yun was a rogue with sinister designs, so
he somehow saw evil plots from his second junior brother’s eyes when he
grinned.

On a whim, Yan Zhengming turned around and said to the Taoist child, “Go
and ask that little… the shortest kid. I forgot again, what’s his name?”

“That’s third martial uncle, Cheng Qian.” The Taoist child answered with
reverence and awe.

“Oh yes.” Yan Zhengming nodded. “Tell him to wait. Just say Master asked
me to give some advice on his swordplay after I finish talisman practice.”

“He didn’t give a shit when I asked him to do so, and now he uses me as a
pretext.” Muchun Zhenren thought to himself. He looked at Yan Zhengming
but didn’t lay bare his lie — the young master was quite lonely growing up
on such a large mountain and he seldom got a kid as a companion.

The Taoist child trotted to pass the word. Hearing that, Cheng Qian didn’t
give a comment, he only thought that first senior brother might have gotten
up on the wrong side of the bed.

But Han Yun was reluctant to leave. He grumbled, “I was thinking of going
to your place to play.”

Cheng Qian glanced at him and thought, “You’d better be played by your
second senior brother.”

Harboring such mockery, he nonchalantly said goodbye to Li Yun and Han

Yuan, and waited aside as told quietly — certainly not for young master
Yan, whom Cheng Qian was uncertain whether to call senior brother or
senior sister. He was in fact curious about the so-called “charms”.

But soon he found out that people without energy feel were unable to sense
the profoundness of charms — at least from what he could see, first senior
brother did nothing that whole afternoon. He was simply carving vertical
lines on the wood, with a knife, under his master’s nose.
The only gain was that Cheng Qian saw their master’s strictness.

As expected, first senior brother was a hundred-percent macaroni. He had

only sat for a short while before he rocked from side to side as if there were
nails on his bottom, and bustled the Taoist children and maids around.

One minute he felt his hair knot was too tight and required re-combing, and
the next he disliked the sweats on his body and would like to get his clothes
changed; and now he felt like going to the restroom, then he thirsted… but
when the water was served, he either found it too cool or thought it
scalding. Nothing was to his liking. In a nutshell, he couldn’t remain seated.

And he often lost his concentration and often glanced this way and that; he
sometimes criticized Li Yun and Muchun unvoiced in his heart, and on
occasion hummed a tune lately composed by the maids. In a word, his mind
was not on carving the wood at all.

Although Cheng Qian had no idea about the benefits of carving the wood,
he despised first senior brother’s behavior a lot. “Idle folks lack no
excuses.” He thought.

Muchun Zhenren already knew his undeserving apprentice would make a

fuss about nothing. He placed a sandglass on Yan Zhengming’s desk. It only
took half an hour for the sand to run out, and that was when Yan
Zhengming’s practice would end. But as soon as his attention wandered, the
sand would stop flowing. Therefore, the half-hour practice would usually be
prolonged until it got dark.

Yan Zhengming had thought he and his master could become bosom friends
in the aspect of “floating through life”, but when it came to practicing
charms, his master became so unlike him, to the point of being insensitive.

Muchun Zhenren had said, Yan Zhengming’s Tao was actually the Tao of
sword. Such cultivators mostly had a strong willpower, but there were
exceptions, Yan Zhengming was one of them. Therefore, he must be trained
doubly so that his talent would not be dissipated.
Cheng Qian watched for a while and felt he got not benefit from it at all, so
he withdrew his sight and asked the Taoist child beside him for paper and
writing brushes, and got down to doing homework for today — write sect
rules first, then Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness his master read this
morning.

Seeing that, Muchun softened his severe expression and beckoned Cheng
Qian: “Cheng Qian, come here. The light isn’t good there.”

Yan Zhengming frowned and looked upward right into his master’s bird-
eyes.

Where could the light be poor at noon? Clearly his master was disgusting
him by letting him know he wasn’t as dependable as a little kid.

Yan Zhengming turned to have a look at Cheng Qian’s handwriting. He

briefly forgot the fact that it was himself that had asked him to stay. Venting
his anger on Cheng Qian unreasonably, he said, “A dog’s footprints are far
better than your writing.”

Cheng Qian was too young, after all, he didn’t have an involved mind.
Hearing that, he retorted without even making a peep, “Thanks for senior
brother’s edification. But it makes no difference however neat the prints are,
because the little beast cannot remain seated at all.”

Finishing the words, he flashed an ironic glance at the sandglass. Yan

Zhengming fumed, because he found the bloody sandglass stopped flowing
again, expectedly.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 10

Muchun Zhenren had taken it for granted that his decision was perfect – his
first apprentice was highly fickle although he always looked on the brighter
side of things; while the little apprentice was prone to split hairs despite his
calmness. It couldn’t be better if the two busters could complement each
other.

Unfortunately, it turned out they were going to explode before

complementing each other.

Muchun Zhenren had no choice but to separate them by force. He asked a

Taoist child to take Cheng Qian to have a bath and change his clothes, for
he was sweaty from practicing swordplay. Then he zeroed in on his tough
first apprentice by droning dully the Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness
again.

Their master’s chanting was the living representation of an “eyesore and

earsore”. With the figure of a weasel and the voice of a duck quacking, he
resoundingly stilled the running sandglass, and irritated his first apprentice
who almost rose to bite his master murderously.

Yan Zhengming’s forbearance was driven beyond its limits. He threw the
graver onto the desk and raged, “Master, what are you doing?”

“You are uncalm. I am chanting to rest your mind.” His master answered
without even lifting his eyelids.

When the chant was paining Yan Zhengming, Cheng Qian returned. Yan
Zhengming finally got an opportunity to unleash his vexation. He sniffed
and shouted, “You incensed his clothes with sandalwood? What’s wrong
with you? Is he going to become a monk?”
The Taoist child meekly mumbled “yes, yes”. He was too afraid to say
Cheng Qian wanted that incense.

“Change the incense to hibiscus –” Yan Zhengming yelled at him.

“– the heaven is active; the earth is calm…” Muchun Zhenren’s voice grew
even louder.

His voice was like the crunch that sew the timber, which made Yan
Zhengming go hot under the collar. “Master! I am not uncalm!”

Muchun lifted his eyelids and said in a placid manner, “You’re uncalm so
you will be disturbed by external things, and care about whatever the
incense. Don’t take your third junior brother as a censer. – How about this?
To assist you with your cultivation, I move to your Land of the Tender
today and chant all night for you.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

The old weasel had an addiction to chanting, so he definitely meant it.

Could he possibly live to see tomorrow if the weasel really chanted all night
long?

Yan Zhengming was forced to swallow his anger and sat back. Enduring the
incense of sandalwood which smelled like rotten wood to him, he picked up
the graver indignantly and began carving vertical lines in the wood as
though whipping a corpse.

The “censer” Cheng Qian sat down silently to continue his homework, with
the feeling that he was sitting next to an irritable big rabbit.

Their master had assessed Han Yuan as flighty and impulsive, but he
definitely proved no match for Yan Zhengming. At least Han Yuan’s being
flighty affected nobody else, while Yan Zhengming would always involve
everyone around him.

Cheng Qian started to see the benefits of being with first senior brother –
there was a distinct contrast.
Once Cheng Qian got serious, he could break away from the external
disturbance. He carefully imitated the calligraphy from his memory, and
soon became engrossed in the fun of writing. Bound in the smell of
sandalwood, which seemed to have the effects of smoothing the nerves,
Cheng Qian gradually brushed aside his composure-lacking first senior
brother.

Yan Zhengming was holding in a bellyful of sulks. He clamored for

desserts, but felt over stuffed after that. So he stood up and walked around
the pavilion.

But soon he found he was left out. His master was sitting upright on a
hassock absorbedly in meditation while chanting quietly; he was
persistently immersed in scriptures. And his junior brother was writing his
ugly characters carefully as if doing embroidery, without once lifting his
head.

With the two, the atmosphere in the pavilion became so serene that it almost
stilled, even the Taoist children standing in attendance couldn’t help but
hold their breath.

The serenity gave young master Yan some embarrassing boredom. He

resigned himself to sitting back in front of the sandglass. After chilling out
for some time, he had no alternative but to pick up the graver again and got
down to the monotonous routine practice.

Amazingly, he didn’t rock the boat this time. It was the abrupt ringing of the
sandglass that brought Yan Zhengming back to senses. He unbelievingly
found today’s practice actually ended prematurely.

The next few days followed the routine. Every morning, the four
apprentices would suffer the torture of listening to their master chanting.

They were unclear about where their master managed to find so many
scriptures. He read one book per day with no repetitions. After Taoist
scriptures there were Buddhist scriptures, and following Buddhist scriptures
came his self-composed ones, whose content was unstrained and not limited
by the sect, leading to frequent self-contradictions.
After chanting was the swordplay practice.

Yan Zhengming shamelessly pretended to be well versed in the first three

forms in spite of a superficial understanding, and asked his master to teach
him the fourth. Li Yun restrained himself a bit and stopped making trouble
all over the mountain as he learned some new moves. And there was no
need to mention Cheng Qian. Only Han Yuan was firm in being a drag on
his senior brothers and destroyed every bird nest around Mission Hall
heartlessly.

Every afternoon, Yan Zhengming would be trapped in the Mission Hall,

carving charms with dark clouds of discontent overhead. Cheng Qian either
did homework next to him, or helped his master prune the flowers and
grass. It seemed like his master had the intention to make up for the love he
didn’t enjoy in his earlier ages. He always saved for him some snacks that
children liked; and while Yan Zhengming was carving the wood resentfully,
he would deliberately ask Cheng Qian to take a break, and tell him several
eccentric folk tales.

Yan Zhengming sometimes felt that the short kid was here to compete,
against him, for their master’s love. However, it was undeniable that with
Cheng Qian by his side, he could sit for a little bit longer due to his
influence.

Yan Zhengming fell into a daze when the sand ran out today, the numbness
lingering in his hand. Just now, he felt a mysterious power developed from
the friction of the graver against the wood.

“Concentrate. Absorb Qi into your body.” A hoarse voice rang out in his
ears. “The great I call the departing, and the departing I call the beyond.
The beyond I call home… Around it moveth, and it suffereth not –”

Cheng Qian had an ability to take stock of the situation. He stood up and
stepped backwards spontaneously before his master asked him to. In the
meantime, he felt an inarticulate current of air hovered around his body for
a moment, and then flowed over into first senior brother’s body like the
rivers running into the sea.
It was his first contact with the subterranean area behind the depressing
world. Cheng Qian didn’t have a clue to Yan Zhengming’s feelings at that
time, but he heard an indistinct voice as well. Right now, the sun had set to
the other side of Fuyao Mountain; the dimly discernible echoes reached
every corner of the mountain teeming with spiritual energies. Countless
different sounds converged as one and engendered a strange feeling in
Cheng Qian. They sounded like the remote past and the vague future were
whispering to each other across the time present. He desperately tried to
make out what they were saying, but their words just flowed by him gently
like quicksand in the river of time.

Cheng Qian was practically obsessed.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder and Cheng Qian got startled, as if he
jolted out of a bizarre and motley nightmare. He looked behind and saw
Muchun Zhenren dimly.

Muchun’s stare fell upon him from above. Cheng Qian felt his face coolish.
He reached his hand to wipe his face, only to find that tears were streaming
down his cheeks.

He felt awkward, and was at a loss as to what had happened, so he looked at

his master blankly.

“The five colors combined the human eye will blind. The five notes in one
sound the human ear confound. The five tastes when they blend the human
mouth offend.” Muchun Zhenren’s voice thinned into a thread and pierced
into Cheng Qian’s ears. “How can you be ‘free and easy’1 when you see too
much, hear too much, think too much, and wish too much? Wake up!
Now!”

His words were like a wake-up call. There was a buzzing in Cheng Qian’s
head, and after a blink, he recovered his sight and saw first senior brother
sitting rooted in place rigidly. It looked like he was deep in meditation. The
wooden blocks inscribed with messy lines lay scattered across the desk.

Cheng Qian sat there in a daze as Muchun Zhenren ruffled his hair. He
asked, “Master, just now I heard people talking…”
“Oh, they are all forefathers of our sect.”

Cheng Qian was shocked.

“Our sect has a history of over one thousand years, is it strange that we
have a bunch of forefathers?”

“Where are they now?”

“Of course they are all dead.”

“Didn’t they ascend to the heaven?” Cheng Qian goggled.

Muchun lowered his own head. Looking at him kindly, he asked in reply,
“Is there any distinction between ascending to the heaven and being dead?”

“There is, of course. Doesn’t ascending to the heaven mean immortality?”

Muchun froze temporarily, and then he seemed amused by him. He didn’t

give a straight answer, instead, he said, “Ah… You are still a little kid, don’t
keep talking about death. Those are things you will understand when you
grow up.”2

With that, he walked back to the seat of the host and sat down. He looked at
Yan Zhengming, wearing a woebegone face. Cheng Qian heard him mutter,
“Why must he get into meditation now? He really chose a terrible moment.
Where shall I have my dinner?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Consequently, the dinner was moved to the Mission Hall, which should
have been a place to transmit wisdom, impart knowledge and resolve
doubts. Amid scattered charms and scriptures lay a toasted chicken,
surrounded by other dishes and the unconscious first senior brother.

Muchun asked Cheng Qian to sit on the floor with him. He picked up a
chunk of meat for Cheng Qian lovingly, and dragged over a piece of paper
covered with scriptures and placed it on the desk. Then he urged, “Have
some more, and you will grow taller – spit the bones on the paper.”
Cheng Qian took up his bowl quietly, feeling that he could hardly have the
least bit of awe of the Mission Hall from this moment on.

After dinner, Muchun had to keep guard over first senior brother. He
commanded a Taoist child to wrap up a half Jin3 of desserts for Cheng Qian
in case he went hungry in the night. Today was exactly the fifteenth day of
the month, the day when going to the mountain cave was forbidden. But
Muchun didn’t repeat his warning to Cheng Qian; he was confident that
Cheng Qian wouldn’t go out to cause trouble and would write the sect rules
instead.

Indeed, Cheng Qian wouldn’t, but someone else would.

No sooner had he entered the door of Qing’an Dwelling than Han Yuan
followed in. Han Yuan made a big fuss over everything in the yard, after
which he took up the desserts Cheng Qian left there, and praised profusely
as he ate most of them. Splashing the scarps of the desserts, he said, “It’s no
fun for you to stay with first senior brother all day – you’d better play with
us. Today second senior brother taught me quite a few moves, I almost
learned all the moves of the first form.”

Cheng Qian dodged all the scraps which were as many as snows. He smiled
in silence at his idiot junior brother, and thought in mockery, presumably he
should go up to the heaven in a few days since he learned the first form so
quickly.

Pointing at the yard, Han Yuan said to Cheng Qian, “Your yard is so shabby,
barely better than Master’s. You have to see mine tomorrow. My yard is ten
times as large as yours, and there’s a pool at the back, we can go swimming
in summer – can you swim? Ah, forget it. You domesticated kids wouldn’t
dare go out of home, much less go swimming. I’ll teach you to swim. I
promise you’re bound to be a good swimmer in one summer.”

Cheng Qian declined his kindness. The fact was he didn’t want to go around
with dregs like Han Yuan.

The little beggar ate up the desserts during the time he chatted. At length,
he stopped shooting the breeze pointlessly and got into the subject.
He burped and straightened up. Lowering his voice, he said, “Do you
remember the cave… second senior brother mentioned?”

Cheng Qian had expected this, so he replied placidly, “Junior Brother, that’s
violation of the sect rules – now that you have almost mastered the first
form, can you read the characters of the sect rules?”

Han Yuan thought this senior brother who was even younger than him was
literally unreasonable. So he lectured him with an air of superiority.
“What’s the benefit of memorizing the sect rules? I’ve never seen someone
that is as stubborn as you. Didn’t you hear what second senior brother said?
Without energy feel, you are at best an acrobat even if you master the full
set of swordplay. How long will it take if you cultivate step by step? You
can’t always stay in th… the…”

“Stay in the rut.” Uttered Cheng Qian.

“Whatever. I’m going to the cave anyway, are you in?” Han Yuan waved his
hand.

Cheng Qian showed plainly that he was a “honest and good” boy by saying,
“I dare not.”

He rebuffed without a second thought. Han Yuan was disappointed at first,

and then felt disdainful – kids like Han Yuan that were sturdily built but
simple-minded always held in detestation “good kids” like Cheng Qian,
who were obedient and adhered to rules.

“Domesticated.” Han Yuan grimaced and darted an unhappy look at Cheng

Qian.

Cheng Qian, in turn, completely took his junior brother as a stupid mangy
dog. He felt any like or hate towards him was a waste of his feelings. So he
took up the teacup, showing no attitude.

Han Yuan took a few more looks at him. For the sake of that sachet of pine-
nut candies, his temper gradually passed off. With kind of pity and
sympathy, as well as the superiority of a stray dog viewing a domestic cat,
he shook his head and sighed, “Domesticated kids are all porcelain.”

This afternoon in the Mission Hall, Cheng Qian had an impression of the
spirituality of the mountain and its lurking mysteries. And he also knew
what Li Yun was thinking about. Li Yun must be wondering what exactly
was there in the cave in the evening of the first and fifteenth days of every
month, but he didn’t want to risk breaking the rules. Assumedly he had
already planned to get a fall guy for him.

Although Han Yuan failed to persuade Cheng Qian, he didn’t leave empty-
handed. At least, he had a late-night supper at Cheng Qian’s place.
“Porcelain” Cheng Qian saw Han Yuan out courteously and watched him
leave, waiting to see what the sucker would end up with.

“What would happen if he breaks the rules?” Cheng Qian thought

unconcernedly. “Will he get a caning? Have his palm beaten? Or be made to
transcribe scriptures? – it’s not a big deal if the punishment is to transcribe
scriptures.”

Unexpectedly, however, Han Yuan didn’t return that night.

1. free and easy: the precept Muchun Zhenren granted Cheng Qian
2. it is considered improper for kids to talk about death in Chinese
culture.
3. Jin: a unit of weight, equivalent to 0.5 kilogram.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 11

Han Yuan was missing.

Classes were canceled the next day. Their master, together with the Taoist
children, searched every nook and cranny all over the mountain, but no
trace of him.

Honestly, Cheng Qian didn’t have a clear idea about what the cave was, nor
did he realize the gravity of this matter initially. Therefore, when asked by
his master, he just came clean and told him frankly that Han Yuan came to
talk him into exploring the cave together last night.

His master turned pale on the spot.

Yan Zhengming was sitting slumped against the stone table. Hearing the
background, he suddenly straightened up. “Exploring the cave in the
evening of the fifteenth day? Was he asking to die?”

Ever since the Taoist child ran to report Han Yuan’s disappearance, Li Yun
had remained in silence with his head down, pretending he had nothing to
do with that. But hearing what Yan Zhengming said, he finally looked up.
With some urgency in his tone, he asked, “First Senior Brother, what
exactly is there in the evening of the fifteenth day?”

Factually, the alleged “cave” referred to a natural pond at the back of the
mountain with nothing peculiar. At most, if you had to know, the water is a
little deep.

The sect rules only prohibited visits in the evening of the first and fifteenth
days. Li Yun had been there more than once, but he never sussed out what
was special about the pond.
Yan Zhengming turned to him, his eyebrows gradually knit. “Li Yun, if my
memory doesn’t fail me, I told you, didn’t I? The cave connects to the
Demons Valley at the back of the mountain. There’s a strong monster
guarding the gate. But the phases of the moon on the first and fifteenth
evening have special power, so the gate will open itself. Some monsters
with low cultivation levels that didn’t rid themselves of natural ferocity will
try to come out. To avoid any potential tragedy, it is forbidden for unskilled
disciples to hang around the mountain on these two nights.”

Li Yun was dumbfounded – Yan Zhengming did tell him that when he
pressed about the cave. But he gave a different version which didn’t prove
well-founded. His original words went like this, “What is there in the cave?
Big monsters for sure. A little dainty sheep like you is not enough to fill
their tooth gap. Don’t go deliver yourself as a dish to them.”

Good Heavens! Who could have believed that a remark as deceptive as the
lie, “the wolves will eat you up if you don’t sleep”, was actually the truth!?

In the next moment, Li Yun’s face went deathly pale.

It was him that had egged Han Yuan on to explore the cave. Beyond
gainsaying, he had ulterior motives to designedly entice Han Yuan into
navigating the way for him. But he was only thinking that, if by any chance
Han Yuan was caught breaking the rules, the worst that he would be facing
was nothing more than being made to write the sect rules a couple of times.

The thought of wanting Han Yuan to die never, ever entered his mind!

Muchun Zhenren paced back and forth apprehensively. Suddenly, he halted

and got hold of Cheng Qian by his shoulders. “Did Han Yuan tell you why
he was going there?”

Cheng Qian hadn’t recovered from the astonishment – nor did he feel any
better than Li Yun. He was well aware that, in a sense, he was also a person
in the know, and one who stood and looked through the sidelines.

Despite his indifference and sharp tongue, he was far from venomous. If
Han Yuan ended up being dragged back and beaten in the palm by master,
he would, without a shadow of doubt, be perversely delighted; but if what
awaited Han Yuan was death…

Cheng Qian felt ice-cold inside. Under his master’s steady gaze, he
remained silent for a good while, until he, with great difficulty, found his
voice. “Junior Brother said, that those who just started cultivating could
acquire energy feel in the cave, on the first and fifteenth nights of every
month…”

Cheng Qian didn’t expose Li Yun, because in his mind, he was equally
despicable as Li Yun. It would be utterly shameless if they passed the buck
to one another at this particular moment.

But things didn’t happen as Cheng Qian wished. The brainless young
master Yan, who always spoke his mind, completed Cheng Qian’s sentence
automatically when he had hardly finished speaking.

“That ugly brat doesn’t even know what energy feel is.” Said Yan
Zhengming impersonally. “Decidedly, Li Yun told him that.”

Li Yun drew himself up instinctively with a guilty haste. In a fluster, he

defended himself. “I… I only told him a speculation, and didn’t ask him to
go to the cave. I didn’t anticipate that he would dare to flagrantly violate the
rules even though it’s only a few days since he was initiated…”

“How could you have the cheek to talk nonsense now? Li Yun, your evil
designs are no stranger to me. Don’t think you can fan the flames in the
dark and no one will notice – as for that ugly beggar, I don’t think there’s a
need to look for him. Supposing he has been dragged into the Demons
Valley for one night, it is too late to even collect his body. Most likely, even
bones are not left.” Yan Zhengming interrupted him coldly.

Li Yun didn’t feel any uncomfortableness about the first part of Yan
Zhengming’s sentence, for they had been long loathing each other. But the
second part genuinely painted his face paler.

Li Yun rose to his feet, nearly knocking over the ink on the desk. “Master,
I… I… I…”
He stuttered three “I”, unable to complete the sentence.

Li Yun was all at sea with his mind blank. Muchun Zhenren’s heavy look
fell upon him, which he evaded out of his own accord – It was too difficult
for him to either acknowledge it was he who incited Han Yuan, or to
confront the fact that he might have caused his little junior brother’s death.

If he had enough courage, he would have gone to the cave himself; would it
be necessary for him to find a scapegoat then?

Cowardice is a trap that one might easily fall into. Nonetheless, the
resultant remorse was too heavy, a young man could hardly bear it.

Li Yun had no place to rest his evasive eyes. Eventually he looked at Cheng
Qian and said to him as if clutching at the last straw, “Third Junior Brother,
you heard it. I… I didn’t intend to incite him to go to the cave, right? And I
warned him that it was a violation of the sect rules.”

Cheng Qian bowed his head deep to the ground, silent. This topic was
weighing down his mind, and he could hardly breath under the smite of his
conscience.

Muchun Zhenren stood up. Panicking, Li Yun shouted, “Master…”

But a bang interrupted him – Muchun Zhenren slumped back into the stone
chair as though he was pulled by some force in the air.

The sound was so loud that even Yan Zhengming, who was busy quarreling
with Li Yun, turned around. Baffled, he asked, “Master, what’s wrong?”

Muchun Zhenren didn’t reply instantly, however. It looked like he didn’t

feel the pain in his bottom as he calmly adjusted his sitting position and said
waving his hand, “Silence! – Cheng Qian, fetch me the old sandalwood
tablet hanging over there.”

Cheng Qian did not dare to delay for even a moment. He trotted to fetch the
tablet, that was half a Chi1 square, in the corner of Mission Hall, and
presented it to his master. Simultaneously, he gave his master a few
secretive glances.

Muchun Zhenren sat erectly with his eyelids slouching. He seemed to be the
same as usual. But Cheng Qian was an acute observer that could perceive
one’s happiness, anger, grief and joy from a mere exhalation. He couldn’t
explain why, but he had an unceasing feeling that there was something
wrong with his master.

Despite Cheng Qian being acquainted with that face and sitting posture, he
felt as if Muchun Zhenren was wrapped in a mantle of ineffable gloom and
frost.

Was master in a temper because of Han Yuan? Or was he hit on the tailbone
by the bang just now?

But Cheng Qian had no time to give it further reflection, as Muchun

Zhenren suddenly reached out a hand, put his fingers together into the shape
of a knife, and slashed at the tablet. His hand was pallid and wizened, as
shrunken as a chicken’s feet. Whereas his fingertips were sharpened with
fierce strength, like an iron sword in icy water.

It was only at this moment, that Cheng Qian developed a brand-new notion
of charms – people without energy feel could also notice the formidable
power of charms, depending on who created it. That strong power forced
him back and made his flesh creep.

Everyone on the spot had touched the incredible power in the course of
forming a talisman. The whole Fuyao Mountain seemed to be startled and
trembling. In half a shake, the talisman was made. Muchun Zhenren
retracted his hand, which had no sawdust on its fingers, and took a good
look at the charms with some nameless apathy.

That was not the expression of someone looking at a lifeless object. But
rather, it seemed like he was looking at a human being, with elements of
harshness and scorn.
“Zhengming, come here.” Muchun Zhenren called over his first apprentice.
His regular drawl vanished, replaced by an energetic tone. He spaced each
word for emphasis, like a forceful man in exalted position, making it hard
for the listener to defy him.

He handed the tablet over to Yan Zhengming, who was petrified by the
genuine power of charms, and said, “Take this and go to the cave to find
Zipeng2 Zhenren. Tell her the whole story, and ask her to help searching –
Don’t worry, your little junior brother is still alive, he may survive from
those monsters, as long as you make haste.”

A bundle of lethargy passed through Yan Zhengming, but he decided to

prioritize this, as he knew what was at stake. Knowing his master had no
one else to assign, he didn’t complain hearing the order, without retorting or
even glancing at the cane chair which he used as means of transportation in
the mountain. He simply took the talisman, turned around, picked up his
sword, and popped off towards the outside.

Cheng Qian stopped brooding over what was wrong with his master at
once. Because in his mind, first senior brother was the most unreliable
person in the world. He doubted that Han Yuan could survive if master sent
Yan Zhengming to his rescue.

So he took up a wooden sword and said without even thinking, “Master, I

am going too.”

Muchun was surprised. Presently he nodded as Yan Zhengming rolled his

eyes. “Well, go.”

For a moment Li Yun was stunned. Then he hastily got up and pleaded in a
tentative voice, “Master – Senior Brother, take me, please.”

Yan Zhengming stared at him with a stony glance, saying nothing. He

quickened his pace, letting Li Yun follow.

Young master Yan fished a white handkerchief out of his bosom and threw
it to Cheng Qian with the sandalwood tablet, and ordered, “You can do
nothing other than be a drag on me. Wipe the sawdust off the tablet first.”
First senior brother rarely acted so swiftly; and Cheng Qian was rarely so
cooperative.

He was racked with guilt for letting Han Yuan trespass into the forbidden
area, and had already taken it as his responsibility to rescue Han Yuan. For
now, whatever Yan Zhengming said, he wouldn’t take it personally.
Contrarily, he even buried his previous ill will and followed up. Wiping the
tablet, he asked in a good-natured way, “Senior Brother, who is Zipeng
Zhenren?”

Not getting his expected retort, Yan Zhengming winded down. Then it
suddenly struck him that he was actually bothering with a kid that didn’t
reach the height of his chest. Thinking of this, Yan Zhengming felt
somewhat ashamed.

So he went silent for a while, and then answered flatly, “Zipeng Zhenren is
the big monster guarding the mountain cave. She is reasonably open to
talking. I’ve paid a new-year call to her.”

“What kind of monster?” Cheng Qian asked again. “Wouldn’t it be better if

master himself visits her?”

“Of course not.” Yan Zhengming looked quite impatient. He walked so fast
that Cheng Qian had to run in order to catch up with him. He heard first
senior brother’s reply coming from the wind, “It’s not suitable for master to
visit Zipeng Zhenren, because she is a hen – Hey, stay close and do not
question me. Be careful to not break a taboo in the Demons Valley, if you
don’t want to be detained as Han Yuan’s companion that is.”

It took a while for Cheng Qian to understand that their master wouldn’t
personally visit Zipeng Zhenren, probably to avoid being offensive – after
all, “the weasel goes to pay his respect to the hen”3 didn’t sound very
pleasing.

Come to think of it, his eyelids twitched sharply. He suddenly realised that
his master was a real, genuine, living weasel, who secluded himself in the
deep mountains!
Nevertheless, at present, the recluse weasel’s situation was not so
optimistic. After Cheng Qian and his senior brothers left, he ordered the
Taoist children to clear out, after which he instantly collapsed onto the
table, and a gust of dark smoke poured out of his chest. The thing that had
possessed his body landed on the ground, taking the hazy shape of a human
being.

Muchun Zhenren’s hand which had just carved the charms shivered heavily.
After a long time, he said in a hoarse voice, “Are you crazy?”

The black shadow stood in silence for quite a while, and said softly, “The
monster king must show respect where my marks go. As long as they hold
on to my talisman, they’ll be safe and sound. Relax. This is a mere
adventure for them.”

Muchun Zhenren wore a rather sullen expression, but he couldn’t stand up

as though his body was fettered. He deepened his voice and said, “Although
I have very limited ability and knowledge, and my sight dimmed from old
age, I’m still far from being unable to notice invisible charms integrated
with visible ones. For a single trip to the Demons Valley, the common
lightning-summoning charm is sufficient for them to protect themselves.
And considering the type of person Zipeng Zhenren is, she won’t make
things difficult for several kids… What the hell are you up to? What is this
carrier that you embedded in the invisible charms?”

This time, the black shadow didn’t respond though.

“Speak!” Muhun Zhenren thundered.

However, the black shadow had already vanished like a billow of smoke,
leaving no trace but a faint disappearing sigh.

As if it never existed.

1. Chi: a unit of length, equal to ⅓ meter.

2. Zipeng: literally, purple roc.
3. A Chinese idiom, a weasel giving new year’s greetings to a hen has
ulterior motives.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 12

It hadn’t even been a month since Cheng Qian was initiated into the Fuyao
Sect, and he already ran into the biggest crisis of his life – he, as the
apprentice of a weasel, with his narcissistic, presumptuous and sissy first
senior brother, as well as his artful and cunning second senior brother, was
going to rescue his fourth junior brother, who might have been eaten down
to bones, from a henroost.

What if the Hen Zhenren wouldn’t release him?

And what if their fourth junior brother had already been served on
someone’s plate by the time they arrived.

Cheng Qian contemplated the talisman in his hand. Their master threw it to
them right after he finished carving it, giving no information about what it
was for and how to use it. But first senior brother just took it and left
without asking. Did he know that already?

Cheng Qian hesitated to believe that first senior brother actually knew
anything besides incense. Thus he braced himself up for Yan Zhengming’s
imaginable mockery and asked modestly, “Senior Brother, do you know
what this talisman is for?”

“Summoning lightning.” Replied Yan Zhengming without even thinking.

Getting such a direct answer, Cheng Qian breathed a sigh of relief. First
senior brother seemed very self-assured and confident, so that must be it; he
did have energy feel, and systematically learned about charms after all.

It was pitiful, but if Cheng Qian knew how conceited his first senior brother
was, he wouldn’t have felt relieved so early – the truth was that Yan
Zhengming only took a brief glance at the charms, and got a rough idea that
it resembled the lightning-summoning charms, which he replied to Cheng
Qian assertively.

Yan Zhengming had little patience to routinely sit and learn those boring
charms. He only memorized the rough shapes of some familiar charms
perfunctorily, just for the sake of satisfying his master’s examinations. He
had no concept of what “a small discrepancy can lead to a great error”
meant in the art of charms.

Soon enough, they arrived at the back of the mountain. Cheng Qian aside,
the other two knew the way very well.

There was a precipitous cliff. Through the apertures between the rocks, they
could see the abyss down there and hear a sinister wind gusting up.

Cheng Qian couldn’t resist looking down, after which his heart twanged
like a giant elastic band. It was too high and too deep. He had never been
somewhere so dangerous, his face suddenly blanched. But after he caught
his breath, he was somehow attracted by the spectacular abyss. Holding
back the feeling of nausea, Cheng Qian gulped, craned his neck, and took
another look down cautiously.

Perhaps due to him normally being overly observant and proper, Cheng
Qian found for the first time, that he was somewhat fond of such a perilous
place near the abyss.

“What are you looking at? Do you want to be smashed into a flat meat pie?”
Seeing Cheng Qian almost stretching his upper body hazardously, Yan
Zhengming clenched his shoulder and pulled him back vigorously.

Yan Zhengming was very puzzled on why these brats all had the inclination
to dice with death. He couldn’t help recollecting that when he was their age,
he behaved himself and never played up. Could it be that the kids master
brought back this time were both freaks?

Certainly, “delicate” young master Yan never roughhoused, he couldn’t

even stir himself to walk to the morning classes and would like to be carried
over instead. There was no trouble that was tempting enough to entice him.
By now, they could already hear the sound of water. Yan Zhengming rubbed
the mud off his shoes onto a big rock with an inexplicably hateful
expression, as if it was the greatest sacrilege in the world that his shoes
were mudded.

After that, he turned to Li Yun and glared at him. “We’re almost there. This
way.”

This young master was spoiled to the point of being unruly. He never
concealed a ghost of his emotions and just displayed them very explicitly
on the face. Cheng Qian felt malice, contempt and loathing from first senior
brother’s glare, as if it was saying “Aren’t you dying to see what the cave
looks like? Now your wish has come true. Have a good look then.”

Li Yun’s face went chalk white. Seeing that, Cheng Qian started
deliberating over what he should do to put down the fire if senior brothers
got into a fight, as he was so little and trivial.

Quite unexpectedly, however, Li Yun remained as mute as a fish. He

willingly accepted being treated like a doormat for the time being, as if the
more Yan Zhengming was sarcastic to him, the better he would feel.

Yan Zhengming shot him a ferocious stare, and led them to the pond on the
top of the hill and stood by.

“Can you both swim?” Asked Yan Zhengming. But immediately he said to
himself before the other two could reply, “It doesn’t matter if you can’t.
Hold your breath and stay close to me. Don’t flap about when you’re in the
water.”

Finishing that, Yan Zhengming caught hold of Cheng Qian by his wrist with
a very disgusted and loath expression, as though being forced to touch dog
shit.

Cheng Qian had never touched such a hand, which was cared more
meticulously than anyone else’s he had seen – even better than that of the
maid’s, who combed first senior brother’s hair. There were only a few
unnoticeable calluses on the parts which he used to hold a sword and
writing brush, yet they weren’t very thick. So you could see that this guy
wasn’t hard-working at all.

Apart from that, there wasn’t a half, let alone a single, agnail on his hands.

But soon after, Cheng Qian was dragged into the water by this beautiful,
fair hand.

The water was bone-chilling, and Cheng Qian nearly choked. Their jumps
created many foams and splashes, making it difficult to find the direction.
Clinging to the tablet in his bosom, Cheng Qian was drawn forward by Yan
Zhengming.

Soon, a huge rock got in their way.

Yan Zhengming pulled over Cheng Qian’s sleeve and used it as a cleaning
cloth to wipe the moss and waterweed off the rock, and a small figure of the
Big Dipper exposed itself. Yan Zhengming felt the part around the head of
the dipper, then pressed somewhere with his thumb.

If you were familiar with horoscopes, you would know the place Yan
Zhengming pressed was where the Dubhe1 was. Suddenly, the stone gate
rumbled open. Cheng Qian was nearly washed away by the surging torrent.
He held tight to the gate with hands and feet, and pounced forward with all
his might.

But presently, Cheng Qian was surprised to find that he was standing on the
ground.

There was a narrow aisle behind the stone gate, which cleaved through the
water deep to the earth. The water seemed to be cut off by something
invisible and intangible, and thus the aisle was like a transparent tube
sticking underwater. Water drops slid down Cheng Qian’s body and
reunited with the rest; sprays were blocked outside and therefore wouldn’t
splash.

Under their feet were stone steps which just allowed one person at a time,
winding down to the deep of the valley.
Yan Zhengming carried his garish sword in hand. Apparently he didn’t want
to rile someone, as he kept the sword in its scabbard even though he was
already on the alert.

The stone steps seemed endless. It became unbearably cold and dark as they
went deeper.

Having remained mute all the way, Li Yun finally couldn’t restrain himself
anymore and asked, “He… How on earth did little junior brother come
down here? I don’t think he had the nerve to come somewhere so deep
alone.”

That was Cheng Qian’s doubt too. As to his knowledge, that loser was even
afraid of dogs, he definitely didn’t have such valorous spirit of exploration,
even for the sake of energy feel.

“Rubbish. In the evening of the first and fifteenth days, thousands of

monsters worship the moon, and the stone gate opens wide. The valley is
definitely not the same as what you see now.” Said first senior brother
wearing a condescending face. “Think twice before you say stupid things.”

His words smacked each of his junior brothers in the face and reduced them
to silence.

All of a sudden, Yan Zhengming came to a halt, which caught Cheng Qian
flat-footed. Cheng Qian ran into him in an unguarded moment.

Cheng Qian’s height barely reached Yan Zhengming’s chest. So Yan

Zhengming stuck out his hand and stopped Cheng Qian without much
effort.

The perfume of orchid on first senior brother’s body, which was so strong
that even the cold water failed to dilute it, stifled Cheng Qian and made him
want to sneeze. Afterwards, he heard a hissing sound. Looking down, he
found that his dirtied and smeared sleeve was ripped off by first senior
brother.
And first senior brother said with righteous distaste, “Why are you still
wearing that? Isn’t it sloppy enough?”

As if it wasn’t he that dirtied Cheng Qian’s sleeve!

Being made to be a “cut-sleeve”2, Cheng Qian suddenly felt his first senior
brother wasn’t like a young girl at all – should such an impudent girl really
exist in the world, by no means could she be married off in the future.

Before they noticed it, the end of the steps was reached. Right in front of
them was the mouth of a cave which was taller than two adults. The door
which was supposed to be shut tight was wide open, exposing an eerie and
gloomy corner inside.

“Strange.” Yan Zhengming breathed. “Didn’t Zipeng Zhenren close the

door?”

Human beings and monsters were totally different. Yan Zhengming

personally hated hairy beasts and feathery birds; and to put himself in the
monster’s place, he didn’t think a feather-less human being would be
welcome here. The cave wasn’t originally a comfortable place, and the
abnormality today even disquieted the inattentive Yan Zhengming.

After a second of hesitation, Yan Zhengming walked in and was greeted by

a gust of sweet fragrance. Yet still, he sensed a faint hint of blood with his
acute nose.

There was a chicken feather engraved on the stone wall. But right now, the
imprint was very blurry and fading, with its tail being almost invisible. It
could be easily inferred without any common sense that the owner of this
imprint wasn’t in a good situation. But the problem was… whether she was
approaching the end of her predestined lifespan or badly injured by
someone.

Zipeng Zhenren was a super monster that had vast magic powers with the
deposits of over eight hundred years’ cultivation. Normally, they shouldn’t
have sneaked in so easily without arousing her vigilance. To play it safe,
Yan Zhengming kept quiet.
He turned around and made a gesture of “hush” at his pesky junior brothers.
Then he creeped to the front of a locked inner stone door, and twiddled a
knob on the surface gingerly.

Halfway through it, he paused as if something occurred to him. Then he

hissed at Li Yun and Cheng Qian angrily, “Keep back! Can’t you see what I
am doing, or you want to stand there and be live targets?”

Cheng Qian and Li Yun immediately backed sideways.

Yan Zhengming gave the knob a few turns until it couldn’t be twiddled.

Squeak.

The stone gate let out a hoarse moan, which was so creepy that Cheng Qian
got goose bumps all over his arms. A strong smell of blood overpowered
him, and promptly, he heard an ominous sound of wind. But before he was
able to alert his senior brothers, he caught a peep of sword light out of the
corner of his eye.

It was first senior brother drawing his sword, a real, incisive sword, which
glinted so brightly that it was almost burning. A current of raw air was
mobilized by him, whirling and eddying in the pokey cave.

Unfortunately, the negligible power of a young man was absolutely

ridiculous in the big monster’s eyes, just like an ant trying to shake a giant
tree. Before Yan Zhengming could draw out his sword, he felt some
emphatic press on it and the part between his thumb and the index finger
fell to shaking badly. In no case could his well-preserved hands withstand
such a pain as if they were being torn apart. He did a double-take when he
loosed his grip on the sword in spite of himself.

Clank.

The sword dropped onto the ground. Yan Zhengming doddered backwards
for several steps and his hand holding the sword just now had gone numb.
The three lads looked at the ground in astonishment and saw that lying
beside the coldly-glinting sword was a feather which had knocked it into
the air.

Horrible stillness began to grow. Cheng Qian could see first senior brother’s
face had gone ghastly.

After quite a while, Yan Zhengming dusted the dirt off his body, and said
frowning, “Yan Zhengming, junior of Fuyao Sect, comes to send his
greetings to Zipeng Zhenren under his master’s order.”

1. Dubhe: see here.

2. cut-sleeve: an allusion to gay. Here’s its source:
Emperor Ai of Han Dynasty was sleeping in the daytime with Dong
Xian, his male lover, stretched out across his sleeve. When the
emperor wanted to get up, Dong Xian was still asleep. Because he did
not want to disturb him, the emperor cut off his own sleeve and got
up.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 13

The response of the person in the cave was a thundering roar which boomed
in their ears. Cheng Qian suddenly felt his chest tighten, as well as some
disgust that almost made him vomit.

Through the aftersound, he struggled to recognize what she said.

A concise and wrathful “Scram!”

That was an aged woman’s voice, rough and gravelly with a tinge of
gruesome viciousness, highly resembling the image of an old hag, who fed
on humans and kept their hearts, from folklore.

Kneading his ears, Cheng Qian was unsure about which words enraged her,
“Fuyao Sect” or “his master”?

Didn’t first senior brother say he paid her a new-year visit? Did he bow to
her at a distance of three Li1 back then?

Surprised and bewildered, Cheng Qian glanced over his shoulder at Yan
Zhengming.

To be honest, Cheng Qian and Li Yun, one thought a great deal of himself,
and the other had a rich stock of wicked ideas. But they did have one thing
in common – neither of them acknowledged their first senior brother as
something.

But judging from the current situation, they had to agree that in the event
they had to fight, first senior brother was the only person they could barely
count on.
He was the oldest and the tallest, and he had learned swordplay for the
longest time; on top of that, he had energy feel.

Too bad the strongest man’s sword hadn’t even been unsheathed when the
old monster’s mere feather sent it into the air.

Yan Zhengming looked livid. Beads of cold sweat broke out on his temples
and were running down his cheeks. For the sake of decency or something,
he didn’t withdraw even a half step, and moreover, he even forced a
haughty smile.

Even though he was gallant, Cheng Qian preferred him not to smile.
Because his smile always made Cheng Qian want to slap him with the sole
of his shoe, and if that smile angered the big monster, they would be
absolutely screwed.

“Since Zhenren is unwilling to meet guests, we as juniors shouldn’t have

visited. But last night, a thoughtless disciple stumbled into the valley and
has been missing for a whole night.” After a pause to make himself sound
more justified, Yan Zhengming continued, “According to my master,
seniors in the cave have been neighboring our sect ever since it was
founded, and we’ve been at peace all these years. Senior, you are the bigger
person, you surely don’t want to hurt the harmony between both sides just
because of a little kid, do you?”

Although his statement wasn’t very fluent, it still inspired wonder in Cheng
Qian.

For one thing, Cheng Qian didn’t expect that the first senior brother who
couldn’t even remain seated, had the guts to reason with a big monster. For
another, he discovered that this young master wasn’t untactful, but he
simply preferred to be constantly indulged on master’s love.

Nevertheless, his reasonable lengthy speech touched Cheng Qian, yet it

failed to persuade the hen inside. Zipeng Zhenren’s reply remained the
same, the single word, “Scram!”
Yan Zhengming almost bursted with anger, but he suppressed it – although
embarrassed, he didn’t get into a huff on the spot.

Young master Yan was only headstrong, but he didn’t like asking for
trouble. Any fifteen or sixteen year old teenager, as long as he wasn’t a
complete dunce, would be able to distinguish between those he could afford
to provoke and those he couldn’t.

It wouldn’t take more effort for Zipeng Zhenren to kill them, than to
trample several ants. Yan Zhengming gritted his teeth while feeling really
confused and agitated. He did make dealings with this old hen on his
master’s behalf before. Although she didn’t have a good temper, she
wouldn’t lower herself to the same level as several mortal youngsters either.

Even if Zipeng Zhenren was very lukewarm on her treatment, she had never
snapped at him.

A conclusion flashed into Yan Zhengming’s head: something terrible had

happened inside.

At that moment, Li Yun murmured from behind, “Senior Brother, since she
won’t let us in, how… how about going back to bring master here?”

In face of Zipeng Zhenren, Yan zhengming didn’t dare to be rash. But to

deal with his dipshit junior brother, he wouldn’t show mercy.

Young master Yan answered off the top of his head, “It took us nearly an
hour to come here, and now you ask us to return and bring master. Do you
mean to bring him to identify your little junior brother’s body?”

Li Yun shuddered in cold sweat, his forehead was feeling dry by the sinister
blowing wind. Once again, he had one foot in the trap of cowardice.
Considering they were confronting a real monster – a monster who didn’t
welcome them, it was already hard enough for Li Yun to not stand on his
knees.

But Han Yuan…

A hole was forming on Li Yun’s conscience. He wavered for a long time
and eventually said sorely, “But we couldn’t even get inside, and how do
we fight with those monsters in there? I… I mean, fourth junior brother
entered here last night and master said he was still safe; maybe we don’t
need to hurry now, we can…”

Standing in front of the cave which was dripping with the smell of blood,
actually Yan Zhegnming was also secretly trembling. Meanwhile, he was
internally furious because of Zipeng Zhenren’s incivility. So he was in an
awkward situation, in which he came close to losing his temper while
trembling with fear.

But once Li Yun spoke, the balance was easily broken.

Yan Zhengming’s fear was overpassed by his fury at Li Yun’s remarks. He

doubled the embitterment he got from the hen and took it all out on Li Yun.

“Li Yun, what should I say about you?” Yan Zhengming sneered. “You are
really something.”

Cheng Qian knew that he had to declare his position, so he picked up first
senior brother’s sword, walked to his side and said to Li Yun, “Second
Senior Brother, you can go back alone.”

Having received support, Yan Zhengming’s sneer grew even more

revolting. He was really good at cynical smiles. With an arch lift of his
eyebrow and a squint, he didn’t even need to humph and people at a
distance of three Zhang2 would perceive his scorn.

“A little kid is better than you.” Yan Zhengming said. Then he turned to
Cheng Qian, whose name escaped him again. “Little… um, li… little
Copper Coin3, come with me.”

Zipeng Zhenren could only repeat “scram” again and again, perhaps she
was only a sheep in wolf’s clothing. Maybe her freedom was restrained or
she was just terribly injured and couldn’t move – otherwise it was totally
unnecessary for that old hen to block them outside the door.
For the sake of not letting the little underbite4 become the stuffing for
dumplings at some big monster’s dinner, Yan Zhengming decided to
gatecrash.

Cheng Qian followed up and said with resignation, “Senior Brother, I am

Cheng Qian, not Copper Coin.”

First senior brother sniggerred, probably to show there was no difference

between “Tong Qian” and “Cheng Qian” to him. He took his own sword
over and said to Cheng Qian with his chin slightly up, “Although master is
not here, you’ve got his water-summoning charm in hand. I don’t believe
we cannot flood this shabby cave!”

Hearing that, Cheng Qian nearly fell flat on his face – wa… wasn’t that a
lightning-summoning charm? How did it change to a water-summoning
charm?

Do the charms of our sect have special powers and can arbitrarily change
their property between Metal, Wood, Water, Fire and Earth5?

Then Cheng Qian’s eyes fell upon first senior brother’s hand holding the
sword, and was surprised that it was constantly shivering.

“Very good. Even though first senior brother was almost scared silly, he
didn’t forget to bluff.” Cheng Qian thought despairingly.

The two lads had a good measure of themselves. So they were only posing
as heroes, but actually in a cold sweat.

Right at this moment, the wind blew again.

When Yan Zhengming was panic-stricken with veins bulging on the back of
his hand, the stone gate slowly opened inward with a creak.

Unbelievable!

That old hen believed first senior brother’s bluster!

It was easy for Cheng Qian as he had been accustomed to putting on an act,
whereas it took Yan Zhengming tremendous effort to uncurl his lips that
were ready to curve jauntily. He pretended to be dusting himself and
gracefully wiped the sweat in his hands on his clothes. With eyebrows
dancing, he said, “Thanks, Senior.”

Li Yun didn’t know what happened and was awed by senior and junior
brothers’ courage. Seeing that they left him and walked in, he didn’t know
what to do. He was very scared, but he couldn’t flee either. After some
hesitation, he finally got enough courage and ran in.

On the other side of the stone gate was an abode. There wasn’t a men-eating
old hag but a giant bird paralysed in the corner.

In fact, it wasn’t an “old” hen. It had feathers as gorgeous as a phoenix’s,

however, they were withering away while spread on the ground dully. A
blurry image of a woman was hanging over the giant bird’s head. Although
her voice was hoarse, she didn’t look aged. Judging only by her appearance,
she was probably in the bloom of youth.

Looking at the tablet in Cheng Qian’s hand, Zipeng asked, “Whose charms?
Present it to me.”

Yan Zhengming was about to bullshit to fool her when Zipeng Zhenren
snapped, “Shut up, you whelp! You really think your petty tricks can
deceive me? Give it to me!”

Immediately Cheng Qian felt himself being sucked, and before he reacted,
he was walking to the giant bird involuntarily. Yan Zhengming reached out
his hand to stop him, and Cheng Qian’s chest crashed into first senior
brother’s elbow. He couldn’t help letting go of the tablet. The white
handkerchief fell onto the ground and the tablet flew over to Zipeng
Zhenren.

As the proverb says, “A starved camel is still larger than a horse.” Only
now did Yan Zhengming realize that even though his guess was right on the
button, that Zipeng Zhenren was badly injured, it remained a piece of cake
for her to kill them all.
When she reached a hand out of nowhere to catch the tablet, a strong light
bursted out in the dark cave. None of the three lads saw what happened as
they all closed their eyes out of their own accord. They heard a scream and
when they opened their eyes again, the tablet was lying on the ground.

Zipeng Zhenren seemed to be shocked. The image became weaker and

recoiled fearfully as it mumbled, “No, it’s not your master… it… it’s lord…
Lord Beiming6!”

1. Li: a unit of length, equivalent to 500 meters.

2. Zhang: a unit of length, equal to 10/3 meters.
3. the pronunciation of “copper coin” is “Tong Qian” in Chinese, similar
to “Cheng Qian”.
4. underbite: here it refers to Han Yuan.
5. the five-element theory of Chinese philosophy: see here.
6. Beiming: it literally means “the dark sea in the north where the
sunlight can’t reach”.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 14

Cheng Qian was new to the cultivation world, and Yan Zhengming was
useless. Therefore, they exchanged doubtful glances, not knowing who
Lord Beiming was.

Then, Li Yun who finally got out of his stupor spoke.

His voice was as low as the buzz of a mosquito. “Lord Beiming is not a
person… According to legend, Beiming is a deep and boundlessly dark sea.
So a master of demonic magic is often compared to ‘Beiming’. With time, it
became a honorable title that every demonic cultivator fights for – Senior
Zipeng, this charm was carved by my master – there’s still sawdust on it –
not by some Lord Beiming.”

“What is a master of demonic magic?” Asked Cheng Qian quietly.

“The best among demonic cultivators… the archdevil?” Answered Yan

Zhengming unsurely.

From what he has seen so far, Cheng Qian didn’t deem his master as an
“archdevil”. But on second thought, he felt it might be true… from the
perspective of a hen.

“Bullshit!” Exclaimed Zipeng Zhenren angrily.

Then she turned to Cheng Qian. Pointing at him, the hazy image in the air
said rudely, “Boy, come here.”

Cheng Qian was just going to speak when Yan Zhengming stopped him.

Yan Zhengming shook his head at him, advanced, and said to Zipeng,
“Senior, my junior brother is still new here. He hasn’t even memorized the
sect rules yet. I’m afraid he may offend you. If you need anything, you
come for me.”

Yan Zhengming might be tall, but his body was still the one of a thin and
weak teenager. Observing him from behind, Cheng Qian pursed his lips,
and for the first time, felt that first senior brother was not a good-for-
nothing as he had imagined.

“I want him! None of your business!” Zipeng fulminated.

Yan Zhengming frowned. Cheng Qian whispered to him in a haste, “Senior

Brother, it’s okay.”

With that, he walked forward against the strong ominous aura from the
monster and heard Zipeng Zhenren order, “Pick that talisman up.”

Cheng Qian stopped and picked it up. The instant he touched the tablet, he
felt the tyrannical power in it. There was seemingly a fierce beast jailed
inside. But that beast probably recognized Cheng Qian, as it gradually
tamed and the blaze faded. The tablet in his hand reverted to a peaceful
state.

For a second, while Cheng Qian was holding the tablet, the fear of facing
the bossy monster miraculously waned a lot and a thought popped into his
head: “When can I have such dominating power that allows me to fly
between the heaven and the earth, go anywhere as I wish, instead of
jittering before an old monster?”

Contemplating the charm, Zipeng’s expression changed several times. After

a while, her tone eased up a little. “You came looking for your junior
brother? Let’s make a deal. I will give back the guy that strayed in here, if
you bring me something I want. There’s a Celestial Platform in the Demon
Valley. Monsters are not allowed to enter as it has restrictive spells, but
humans can. The thing I want is there.”

Her claim didn’t hold water. The eight-hundred-year-old monster had

apparently taken the three lads as little birds that were easily fooled.

But she failed, because these three were not birds, they were human beings.
They thought the same, “Bah, nonsense.”

After winking and frowning at one another, Yan Zhengming made the final
decision – get into the Demon Valley first.

Regarding how to deal with her when they came back… young master Yan
didn’t think much of it. Considering the old hen’s situation, it was likely she
would kick the bucket soon.

They bundled off. Yan Zhengming even plucked a feather from Zipeng
Zhenren’s abode with his nimble fingers upon leaving.

Once outside the cave, they were surrounded by water again, it was very
shallow this time though. They swam across to the shore quickly and
arrived at their neighborhood – Demon Valley.

Landing on the ground, Yan Zhengming pinned that chicken feather on Li

Yun’s chest and said, “In ancient times, there was a story where a fox
assumed the majesty of the tiger; today we have an asshole assuming the
majesty of an old hen. Look how fainthearted you are, you may as well
wear that to boost your courage – think hard how to find that poor
underbite, we have to get back before sunset!”

A twinge of fear went through Li Yun. He asked Yan Zhengming anxiously,

“First Senior Brother, does the Demon Valley have any other taboos related
to when it gets dark?”

“I mean I have to go back to have a bath, my feet are stuck to my shoes by

the mud. You idiot!” Yan Zhengming snarled.

Cheng Qian: “…”

He could tell that first senior brother wasn’t joking. His malevolent face
looked as if he was really going to chop his feet off – were it not because
one could only have a sole pair of feet in his whole life, presumably he
would have done do that without blinking an eye.

Li Yun knew a variety of little tricks. Under the pressure from his first
senior brother, he pondered for a bit while nibbling his finger. Luckily, he
didn’t let first senior brother down and came up with an idea.

He produced a small bottle from his bosom, which Cheng Qian found
familiar.

“Isn’t this the feet-washing water of the toads?” Cheng Qian blurted.

Holding his masterpiece and broken heart, Li Yun gave him a complaining
look. “Junior Brother, this is magic water, Toad Liquid.”

He dropped three drops on a small stone and turned it into a frisky toad.
Whether because first senior brother was afraid of that or simply because it
revolted him, his expression was even worse than when his sword was
knocked off by Zipeng Zhenren. He stared at it with awful abhorrence.

Cheng Qian kind of saw how his senior brothers fell foul of each other.

“Go find Han Yuan.” Ordered Li Yun.

The toad croaked and hopped forward.

Li Yun signalled them to keep up and explained, “To tell you the truth, Toad
Liquid is a mixture of toads’ urine and Five Deadly Venoms1. Several drops
are enough to turn a small object like a leaf, a piece of paper, or a stone,
into a toad. Little junior brother played for a long time the other day, with
one that was changed from a leaf. His body and clothes should have picked
up the same smell, so it should be able to find him.”

Yan Zhengming freaked out. “Do you mean he hasn’t changed clothes, or
you mean he hasn’t bathed since a few days ago? Is he still a fucking
human?”
Hearing the formula of Toad Liquid, Cheng Qian felt sick. “Second Senior
Brother, you don’t need to detail that.”

The toads piss had limited effect. That little toad hopped only for two or
three Zhang before it turned back to a stone. Li Yun had to use the liquid
again. He sighed, “This can only last for a short while as it’s not a real
charm, but something that is only for fun. I only have this bottle left. I’m
afraid we will have to be careful with its expenditure to find little junior
brother.”

When Li Yun said that, he was looking at the bouncing toad with a tender
and almost wistful expression. Cheng Qian shivered, he felt that second
junior brother might not be an ordinary person.

The toad took a break after every jump. At this speed, it guided them
through the increasingly luxuriant forest. But abruptly, the vivacious toad
fell on his back with its limbs twitching.

Yan Zhengming picked up a three-Chi-long stick from the ground, covered

his nose with his sleeve, and poked the toad from a distance. Then he
wondered, “Did he finally die due to being ashamed of his very existence?”

With an appalled croak, the toad turned back to a stone. And even after Li
Yun dripped “magic water” on it, it wouldn’t come alive.

Li Yun scratched his head in embarrassment. “Umm…”

“Hush!” A look of vigilance flashed across Yan Zhengming’s face.

He lurched to his feet, dropped the stick, and drew out his sword towards
the dense forest beside him.

Bodeful rustlings sounded from the forest, followed by a roar which

brought a human-headed but beast-bodied monstrous bear to the presence
of the three.

That monster was much taller than two adults with a big bull head. You
could see its iron teeth when it opened its mouth, and smell a filthy bloody
odor effusing from it at a distance of several Li. A shake of its fist
accompanied his appearance, which casted a big tree away.

Yan Zhengming pushed Li Yun and shouted, “What are you about here?
Run!”

Li Yun froze, he couldn’t move a step. At this critical moment, the tablet in
Cheng Qian’s bosom became warm. They simultaneously heard a man’s
voice.

“Don’t move.” That man said very calmly.

“Who?” Yan Zhengming swung around.

“Don’t be scared, come over here.” That voice sounded again.

This time, they all heard it. The voice came from Cheng Qian’s direction,
but they couldn’t see the speaker. Then something seemed to strike Cheng
Qian as he lowered his sight on the tablet slowly.

“S… speaking charms?” Li Yun goggled.

The charm seemed to be amused by him. It said comfortably, with a softer

tone, “It’s nothing but two or three small monsters. They won’t hurt you,
trust me.”

However, he had hardly finished his words when that mountainous bear
spirit dashed towards them. Wherever the “small monster” passed, it shook
the ground. No wonder that timid toad played possum!

The three two-legged lads were absolutely not as fast as the big beast. It
was already too late for them to run now. However, it never rains but pours.
Another shrill roar sounded somewhere near.

The next scene they saw was that a colorful snake twined its tail around the
bear’s waist, and the mountainous bear was tossed upward into the sky
precipitously, then bashed onto the ground, creating a deep hole in the earth.
Those ancient trees and flowers around all met with disaster, flattened and
ravaged.

It happened so fast that first senior brother was even deprived of time to
mind the mud splashed on his white clothes.

Two small monsters? No matter how rare a speaking talisman was, the three
lads all felt that he just said it too easily because it was not his own
business.

Indeed, the tablet wouldn’t die!

Later, the snake monster revealed its complete appearance. The upper part
of its face was human’s, while the under part was covered with scales and
was rattling abuzz. As it moved, an even stronger bloody wind gusted. It
wriggled through the ravaged forest so fast that only ghostly images were
left. Cheng Qian could only hear the hissing noise of its scales against the
ground, but couldn’t see where its head was –

Until it bit into the bear’s neck. The steaming blood spouted three Zhang to
the air, forming a blood fountain.

With mortal terror on its face which almost evolved to a human’s, the bear
spirit came crashing down in a minute. Its huge body rolled and twitched
desperately on the ground, moribund. While the snake coiled around it
tightly and rolled about with it.

In death throes and mournful cries, the bear died.

Cheng Qian looked right into its leaden unfocused eyes, feeling like his
chest was jammed with ice cubes.

The snake loosened its tie around the bear and retreated. Cheng Qian
thought it was going to check whether its prey was seriously dead. But the
snake suddenly bolted into the bear spirit’s body. Its head impaled the
body’s abdomen like a sharp blade. Then it spurted out with a beast core in
its mouth and extended its upper body which was one and a half Zhang
long.

Li Yun vomited. He could hardly believe that he’d been a neighbor with
such creatures for more than a year, and he had made several attempts to
explore here in the first and fifteenth night.

Yan Zhengming felt the blood in his heart pumping frantically into every
corner of his body, which set him in a daze. His feet seemed to lose
strength. If his sword wasn’t supporting him, he would have collapsed on
the dirt.

Facing the bloody ground, with his heart pounding, Cheng Qian fixed his
eyes on the dead bear and the munching snake. Once again, an
inexpressible feeling welled up in his heart.

If he had such absolute strength, would he also… have the power of life and
death over other beings?

1. Five Deadly Venoms: namely, the venom of the centipede, the snake,
the scorpion, the lizard, and the toad
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 15

Just then, the snake moved. It crawled sinuously towards them.

Its long tail swept those ancient trees, cutting through the small forest.
Wherever it went, was followed by a trail of destruction. Trees which were
so thick that one could barely get their arms around, were all toppled down.

With one hand squeezing Cheng Qian’s shoulder, the other lifting his
sword, and his arm holding Li Yun who could scarcely stand, Yan
Zhengming thought wearily, “What the fuck should I do?”

While his feet was still feeling like jelly, his head had already cooled down.
He knew they stood no chance in escaping right now. But at the very
thought that they would be torn into shreds and die in the beast’s mouth, he
felt a spasm of dizziness.

In a flash, this lousy imagination made him determine to leave life and
death out of consideration. Miraculously, his hand holding the sword
stopped quaking. He resolved that no matter what happened, he was going
to fight to death with it. At least he should slice two scales off, and when he
was drained, he would kill himself – better than suffering the torment of the
filthy smell from its mouth before closing his eyes.

At the border of life and death, those sword moves that he failed to integrate
for the past few years were now swelling like tides in his mind, linking
together in such a magical way that the snake seemed to decelerate
significantly in his eyes.

Yan Zhengming twisted his wrist and aimed firmly at the huge snake’s eye.

The first stab, he must not miss it.

The snake monster was getting closer and closer. For a second, Yan
Zhengming stopped breathing –

… But then, the snake passed them by.

The swinging serpent’s tail narrowly missed Cheng Qian’s ankle by less
than the length of a palm, and it just went straight into another direction
emitting a terrible rustling sound, as if it didn’t see them.

The three boys kept their postures unchanged for a good while until
someone’s abnormal heartbeats broke the silence. They just had a brush
with death.

Yan Zhengming withdrew himself from the highly-focused state and only
then slowly hung down his sword. For a while, he felt as if his limbs
weighted hundreds of Jin1 and he could barely support himself. His back
was soaked in cold sweats that were coursing all the way down his spine to
his waist.

Staring at his sword, Yan Zhengming was amazed that he gained an insight
in that emergency.

If Muchun Zhenren knew about this, he would definitely sigh that he didn’t
teach young master Yan according to his characteristics. If he had placed a
lumpy toad on the desk while he practiced charms, which would lick young
master Yan’s hand every time he got distracted, his cultivation level would
have probably improved in leaps and bounds.

At this time, the tablet spoke again, with a very breezy attitude. “I’ve told
you, with me, you don’t have to fear such small monsters.”

Its voice rang a bell with Cheng Qian. He took a puzzled look at the tablet
in his hand, but failed to recall where he had heard it.

He thrusted the tablet into first senior brother’s hand, who hadn’t come
back to earth yet. Then he carried his nonaggressive wooden sword and
walked to the front of the bear’s body.
Yan Zhengming hadn’t dried off yet and began to sweat again when he saw
this bold cub climbing up the bear’s body with both hands and feet. He
hissed, “What are you doing? Get down!”

Cheng Qian waved his hand at him without even looking back, and then
reached his target successfully – a “sword” hanging on the bear’s waist,
made of some beast’s sharp fang. That tooth was a good two Chi long, with
a hole in the end so it would be convenient to hold. Its tip was as sharp as a
knife and was glinting with dim light, perhaps with venom on it.

The tooth was so large that the short Cheng Qian was holding it as if it was
a behemoth. The chillily shining blade reflected his serious face, and there
was still ominous blood of its former owner on it.

Under Yan Zhengming’s and Li Yun’s astonished gaze, Cheng Qian

abandoned his wooden sword for the new one with an impassive
expression.

He jumped down from that corpse and tried wielding it with both hands, but
felt it was too long and heavy, not very convenient. He stabbed forward
with a total lack of inhibition, and poof! Its tip stuck into the thick fur freely
without any obstruction as if he was cutting vegetables.

Only then was Cheng Qian satisfied – in spite of its unwieldiness, it was
incisive enough.

Li Yun muttered, “Third Junior Brother… what breed of guy is he?”

Yan Zhengming laughed dryly, no knowing what to reply.

Although the serpent, which had turned a blind eye to them just now,
proved that the tablet did have some effects, Cheng Qian didn’t want pin
their safety entirely on that thing.

Only when he was holding this heavy tooth would he have a sense of real
security.
One monster died, and the other left. There was no danger around for the
time being. When Li Yun dripped “magic water” on that useless stone,
naturally the toad became alive and kicking again, and continued to guide
them forward happily.

Along the way, Yan Zhengming tried to talk to that tablet several times. But
it suddenly became dumb and wouldn’t answer any of his questions.

Until the toad led them to the top of a hill.

With only one peep down from the top of the hill, the toad was aghast. Then
it played the same old trick and overturned itself on the ground, pretending
to be dead again.

Li Yun caught up. At a simple glance, he understood why.

He instinctively turned to run and bumped into Cheng Qian, almost causing
them to roll down the hill together.

Cheng Qian’s small back badly hit a rock, the fang almost fell out of his
hand. He was knocked dizzy by Li Yun and said suppressing the howl of
pain, “Second Senior Brother, if you want to go with your toad, don’t pull
me along!”

Li Yun collared Cheng Qian, lips shaking so heavily that he couldn’t speak.
Cheng Qian only then realised something was wrong. Looking up at Yan
Zhengming’s equally frozen figure, he inquired, “What’s wrong?”

Standing where the toad died in the line of its duty, Yan Zhengming felt that
the whole world was upside down – in the valley down the hill, there were
hundreds of thousands of monsters fighting heatedly: flying birds and
running beasts, human-headed and beast-bodied monsters, blood dying the
ground, flesh flying up and down – it was like a slaughterhouse. In contrast,
the huge bear and long snake just now… were really only two small
monsters.

Eventually, the tablet uttered, “Don’t look. If that was real, the sound and
the bloody smell would have already spread to the other side of the
mountain. Is it possible that you didn’t notice it until you climbed up here?”

His words slapped those silly boys out of their shock. After a more careful
look, they found there were some blurs in the scene in the valley.

Li Yun breathed a sigh of relief and asked almost eagerly, “Senior, are they
all false?”

“This valley is called Mirror Valley, it reflects the scene of somewhere else.
Of course they are all real, although it is not happening here.” The tablet
chuckled.

He sounded very nonchalant, as if he had seen plenty of bloodshed and

death, which set the lads on their guard.

They winked at one another without uttering a sound, while the tablet
seemed to not notice their nervousness and continued, “Pass through the
valley and over that mountain ahead, you will see the Celestial Platform.
The scene in the Mirror Valley takes place somewhere near it. You only
have to send me there, then you can go find your little junior brother.”

“We are here for that little underbite, not to commit suicide together – what
the hell are you?” Said Yan Zhengming dryly.

At that, a cloud of white smoke rose from the tablet, and when it cleared, an
image of their long-necked and small-headed master showed up, so vivid
that it looked like Muchun Zhenren himself was here.

But seeing his acquainted weasel master, Yan Zhengming didn’t show a
kinder look. Instead, he threw the tablet on the ground, pointed his sword at
it, and barked, “How dare you masquerade as my master!”

Being scolded like that, “master” didn’t get angry but smiled, eyes
crinkling. Then by a sudden metamorphosis, it changed to a nebulous black
shadow, taking the shape of a mushroom.

“I will not be your master then – but I was carved by your master himself.”
That “mushroom” said gently. “Xiao-Zhengming, even if you do not trust
me, don’t you trust your master?”

Seeing Yan Zhengming hesitating, the “mushroom” resumed, “Besides,

Xiao-Yun’s toad has led you here, which means Xiao-Yuan is right in front.
So we’re going the same way, right?”

Yan Zhengming looked down to see the direction to which the toad was
heading before it died, and thought, “Since we’re already here, it’s too
ridiculous if we back down now, and what if Han Yuan is really in the
front?”

Out of absolute trust in his master, Yan Zhengming put his sword down
together with the doubt in his mind. He stooped to pick up the tablet and
said impatiently, “You lead the way.”

The tablet led them all the way down to the Mirror Valley. Even though
they were well aware that it was only mirages around them, it was still a
torment to travel under the claws and teeth of those monsters, which made
this path seem awfully long. Cheng Qian thought that after this experience,
those ghost stories about “haunted deserted villages at night” and “heart-
gouging ghosts” couldn’t horrify him any more.

Cheng Qian couldn’t resist asking, “What on earth is going on here?”

“The Heavenly Monster is coming into the world. Its descension robbed the
Monster King of his powers. Demonic cultivators don’t value allegiance,
once the Monster King gets weak, they will seize the chance to rebel and
usurp the throne.” Answered the tablet unhurriedly.

“What humiliation!” Cheng Qian thought.

But then, thinking of the rude Zipeng Zhenren and the snake monster that
silently killed a bear to take its core, he felt that demonic cultivators
deserved to be called beasts. They were all unreasonable and did not follow
moral principles. Looking at it this way, it seemed excusable that they
rebelled disloyally.
“Since it’s an institution for demonic cultivators, why are you going to the
Celestial Platform? To watch the fighting scene?” Asked Yan Zhengming.

This time, the “mushroom” in the tablet adopted a stern countenance. “It’s
already inauspicious for the Heavenly Monster to see blood at its birth, if
this slaughter is not quelled, I’m afraid the Heavenly Monster will be born
to be bloodthirsty and bring disaster to Fuyao Mountain. I have to stop that
before the disaster is sealed.”

Feeling foggy, Yan Zhengming pursued, “What do you mean?”

But the tablet just shuffled away the subject as if it didn’t hear his question.
“There’s movement under the bridge in front. The guy you’re looking for
should be there.”

In the depths of Mirror Valley, there was a low-lying land full of silt. It
could be a river before. Even though the river had run dry, a bridge with a
sculpture of a beast head was preserved.

There were several piers and openings under the bridge. Cheng Qian
spotted a few shriveled ugly monsters. They had pointy chins, beards on
both cheeks and a long tail – apparently, they were a gang of mice spirits.

Their attention was drawn from the tablet evading the subject. A mouse
spirit was sneaking around on lookout, and the rest was buzzing around in
the bridge opening. The thing they were surrounding was their junior
brother Han Yuan!

Han Yuan looked like a muddy monkey and was thrashing violently. Two
big mice pinned him on the ground and another was daubing mud on his
body. Beside them, a bonfire had been ignited – they were going to make
Han Yuan into a “beggar’s human2”!

The course of nature goes round! The little beggar had stolen and eaten so
many poultry, and now he was going to be toasted in mud. That was his
karma!
As the tablet didn’t hide the three martial brothers’ figures this time, Han
Yuan and those mice spirits all spotted them.

Han Yuan almost burst into excited tears, he howled desperately with relief,
“Help! Senior Brothers – Help! – Let go of me! You fucking mice! I’m
warning you: my senior brothers can blow clouds and puff fogs, control
thunders and lightnings… just wait to be scorched by the lightning, you vile
mice!”

His senior brothers that were said to be able to control thunders and
lightnings were speechless.

Seeing the mud on Han Yuan’s body, Yan Zhengming showed a revolted
expression as if he had a toothache. “I think we may as well have him
roasted.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the mouse on lookout pounced at

him. Having encountered the battle between a snake and a bear, and the
rebellion of thousands of monsters, he could hardly be terrified by such a
wretched mouse which wasn’t as tall as him. Yan Zhengming thrusted the
tablet into Li Yun’s bosom and whipped up with his sword.

The mouse spirit jumped to scratch and Yan Zhengming swung his sword
horizontally to resist. The mouse’s nails raked the big gem on the sword,
but the gem remained intact and its nails broke!

That mouse let out a blood-curdling scream. Then it ragingly opened its
mouth and snapped at Yan Zhengming’s sword. With a sweep of his arm,
Yan Zhengming elbowed the mouse at its nose. It gave a choked cry and
toppled sidewards to the front of Cheng Qian, who had been waiting there
beforehand.

By now, Cheng Qian was only relatively practiced in the opening move, so
he was already in position, staring at the situation concentratedly. The big
mouse was seeing stars by Yan Zhengming’s knock and stumbled under
Cheng Qian’s sword at such an angle that it looked like it delivered itself
there.
Cheng Qian instinctively gripped the fang with both hands and there went
his opening move –

The heroic mouse was sent to Nirvana.(The mouse was killed.)

Not expecting that he would kill it with one shot, Cheng Qian went blank
for a moment. On the other hand, seeing that this matter couldn’t easily
reach an end, the other three mice had abandoned Han Yuan and rushed at
them separately.

They were going to launch a death fight upon those that spoiled their
dinner.

1. Jin: a unit of weight equivalent to 0.5 kg

2. “Beggar’s human”: derived from the Chinese dish Beggar’s Chicken
which is whole chicken roasted while caked in mud
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 16

Acting with one accord, the three mice avoided Cheng Qian who was
covered in blood. Then two of them charged towards Yan Zhengming, and
the the other ran to the front of Li Yun.

Li Yun was just like a passerby. He searched all over his body only to find
that he had spent the whole day being upset and even forgot to bring any
weapon with him… although it wouldn’t necessarily be helpful even if he
had brought one.

In a flurry, Li Yun plucked the colorful feather off his collar and used it as a
weapon against the mouse spirit.

Since Zipeng Zhenren was an almighty being among monsters, even her
feather had an out of the ordinary deterrent force. The mouse obviously
cringed upon seeing it, moving around Li Yun with its shifty eyes goggled,
weighing up whether he was bluffing or a real threat.

Li Yun was scared by the mouse’s movement and, unfortunately, got a

cramp in his thigh. But he knew there was no room to display the slightest
amount of timidity, so he had to put up with it, which happened to make
him appear more threatening.

Thankfully, Cheng Qian soon came to his aid with his fang.

It didn’t take much effort for Cheng Qian to recover from killing. He
thought that it would be a shocking and paralyzing feeling, yet it turned out
that he didn’t feel like that at all.

When he held the bloody sharp tooth, Cheng Qian was extremely calm, as if
he had only cut a cabbage just now. His impassive face made him look like
a life-claiming ghost.
Cheng Qian quickly noticed that this mouse spirit dreaded him, not the
other way around. As he advanced, the mouse backed, even if its teeth were
bared to intimidate him.

While the enemy’s confidence decreased, Cheng Qian’s increased. He even

got bolder instead of recoiling. Realising its intimidation didn’t work, the
mouse confirmed that its opponent was not a guy to mess with and turned
tail hurriedly.

Every being in the universe had intelligence and it was no easy task to
cultivate. It had finally evolved into a spirit after much trouble, wouldn’t it
cherish its life?

Seeing that their fellow fled, the other two mice followed suit for
precaution, even though they didn’t figure out what happened.

This small handful of mice spirits scurried away helter-skelter.

Li Yun sank down on the ground. He finally earned himself a break to have
the leg cramps go.

Nevertheless, just as they started to breathe after defeating the first wave of
enemies, a strange sound came from behind into Yan Zhengming’s ears.
Cheng Qian seemed to notice something and cried from a distance,
“DANGER!”

With a flash, Yan Zhengming flung himself forward and exerted the first
move of the second form, “Cycle”.1

He swung his sword fiercely, which hit some sharp weapon with a clash.
And therewith sounded a gritty howl.

Yan Zhengming retreated awkwardly pinching the hilt of his sword. He

spun to see a huge lynx nimbly landing several steps away from him and
turning into a semi-humanoid form – that monster was hefty and had
almost changed to a human shape, except the claws. It grinned weirdly,
scarlet tongue licking its lips.
No wonder the mice spirits ran away so fast. While the mice hunted, the
lynx was lurking behind!

Young master Yan was just a nice plump mouthful of soft flesh in the lynx’s
eyes. It scraped its toe tips against the ground, and in the next moment
lunged for Yan Zhengming at a lightning speed. Its trenchant claws were
nearly invulnerable. Not even fur was hurt when it clashed with the sword.

The lynx pressed its claw and the sword was pushed down by the brute
force.

Yan Zhengming tripped on something and teetered down, which was to the
lynx’s great delight. It immediately changed back to its beast form and
pressed its claw on him with its mouth wide open.

Li Yun and Cheng Qian were standing far away, and the fight between Yan
Zhengming and the lynx happened so suddenly that it was impossible to go
aid him in time.

Li Yun reached into his bosom and before he clearly saw what he fished
out, he pitched it at the lynx spirit recklessly.

Cheng Qian caught sight of his move from the corner of his eyes and
shouted, “Second Senior Brother, don’t…”

But it was too late. The porcelain bottle had hit the lynx’s head accurately.
The whole bottle of water came spilling over its body and turned the lynx
with shiny fur into a large lumpy toad.

For a second, even the lynx itself was dumbfounded.

The lynx was astonished and incensed. It wanted to roar, only to let out a
lazy croak. The lynx couldn’t help sticking out its slender tongue, which
made it freak out and forget how to stick it back.

The tongue hung in front of the toad’s chest and skimmed young master
Yan’s soft neck. Despite having just narrowly escaped death, young master
Yan went mad there and then and let out an inhuman bellow, “Li Yun, you
piss me off!”

Forthwith, he kicked the huge toad over as though he suddenly gained

infinite strength, and riddled the lynx spirit frantically like a raging
shrewish woman.

Apparently, the lynx in a toad’s shape no longer had steely claws. Before it
learned to jump with toad’s legs, it was stabbed through by Yan
Zhengming’s embittered sword. After thrashing about hysterically, the lynx
got back to its original appearance and died. It lay there still, eyes wide
open.

But the perpetrator, young master Yan himself looked like he wished to be
dead instead. Yan Zhengming couldn’t stop thinking about that lick and
several times, he put the sword around his neck with the intention of
committing suicide.

Cheng Qian and Li Yun helped “Beggar’s Han Yuan” up and shattered the
dried mud off his body, exposing his mud-mottled nude with an awful
stench. Cheng Qian looked him up and down and turned to embarrassedly
report his find to first senior brother.

“First Senior Brother, aren’t you curious about whether little junior brother
hasn’t changed clothes or bathed since the day he played with the toad?”
Said Cheng Qian. “I know it now. He didn’t bathe.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

He put away his sword, face void of emotion, thinking that Han Yuan was
the one supposed to kill himself.

Han Yuan sobbed with tears of joy, “Senior Brothers… Xiao-Qian…”

He attempted to give them a reunion hug, sadly none of his senior brothers
would like to get close to a beggar covered with smelly mud in his birthday
suit, and all dispersed.
As Yan Zhengming tried hard to forget about his sullied neck, he spluttered
and pointed at Han Yuan, “If you don’t want to return to be expelled, copy
those scriptures for a lifetime!”

Han Yuan dared not answer back and only kept his eyes roving, seeking to
find an ally. At last, his look for help rested on Cheng Qian.

However, Cheng Qian didn’t answer his look. He wiped the blood off his
face with his only sleeve left. Feeling thirsty and hungry, he was too tired to
put an act, so he said out of his natural character, “Junior Brother, before
cultivating, you’d better enhance your brain.”

Han Yuan stared at his “temperate, kind, courteous, restrained, and

magnanimous” little senior brother in astonishment. In one day, he suffered
both a physical and mental major injury. Ultimately it was Li Yun who
helped him out. Shaking the tablet, he suggested, “Senior Brother, I think
we should go to the Celestial Platform first.”

Yan Zhengming humphed and took the initiative to move. After some
consideration, Li Yun took his outer robe off and gave it to Han Yuan, lest
disciples of Fuyao sect earned themselves a reputation as exhibitionists in
the Demon Valley.

The Celestial Platform wasn’t very far from the Mirror Valley. Soon
enough, a strong bloody smell drifted over along the wind. A pall of black
fog billowed from the tablet in Li Yun’s hand, outlining an amorphous
humanoid figure which was a real blast from the past for Cheng Qian.

He had dreamed of this person!

Han Yuan was scared out of his wits and screeched, “Oh, fuck! What is
this?”

No reply was given. The mysterious shadow levitated upright in midair

with a solemn atmosphere. Despite his hazy face, Cheng Qian felt awe-
inspiring calmness in him as if he was prepared to sacrifice himself.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Senior, you… are you Lord Beiming?”
“Beiming?” He chuckled and said softly, “Who deserves the title of
Beiming? That’s merely an arrogant title given by some short-sighted
people.”

Cheng Qian turned his words over in mind and reached their implied
meaning – that was an acknowledgement.

But wasn’t “Lord Beiming” a legendary archdevil? How come he housed in

a tablet?

Did he house in the tablet or actually embed himself in master’s charm?

Could it be that master’s charm summons neither water nor lightning, but
summons the archdevil?

Was there… such a charm in the world?

Cheng Qian felt utterly clueless about what was happening. He only now
realized that his knowledge of the cultivation world was so little, that he
couldn’t even give a simple guess at what were all those incredible things.

Thanks to Lord Beiming’s escort, monsters either couldn’t see them or fled
at the their mere sight – it’s possible to assume that the thrilling scene
where they battled the mice and lynx spirits, was probably regarded by this
almighty being as “a scuffle between kids and mice”, so he didn’t intend to
help.

Maybe that mouse spirit which made Li Yun’s leg cramp with terror was, in
this senior’s eyes, no different from a real mouse.

The Celestial Platform was a sacrificial altar located on the bottom of

Demon Valley, rising up incongruously.

The platform was bare and empty, as monsters cannot come close, while its
surroundings had become hell.

As they had witnessed this scene in the Mirror Valley and hence were
mentally prepared, only Han Yuan was flabbergasted.
It was not until then, that Han Yuan realised what place he had intruded
into, and what risk his senior brothers took to rescue him. The reason why
he was still alive and kicking was simply that those monsters were tied up
in fighting against each other and had no time to care about him.

Abruptly, the tablet fissured in Li Yun’s hand. After some light glittered
along the strokes of charms, it returned to stillness. Then Lord Beiming
suddenly detached himself from the shackles of the tablet, and the black
mist veiling him cleared up, revealing a lanky man dressed in a jet black
robe fluttering in the wind like the feathers of a raven. His pale hands were
hanging out, and an archaic ring could be dimly seen on his finger.

Only his face was still hidden behind the black mist, merely exposing Lord
Beiming’s jaw, which was as pale as his hands.

Cheng Qian somehow felt an indefinable sense of kinship, but before he

could have a better view of him, a burning light glared across his body, and
in the next moment, he turned into a cloud of black mist and whooshed
toward the platform getting out of sight, leaving a gentle “go back as soon
as possible”.

Cheng Qian suddenly developed a strange feeling – he was not coming

back.

“I know it!” Exclaimed Li Yun, the master of all erratic tricks, “I know it!
The golden light on his body is an invisible charm!”

Yan Zhengming looked spellbound by the scene. He murmured, “Running

water, curling smoke and fleeting cloud can all make invisible charms.
But… can it also be carved on a human’s body?”

“That’s definitely not a human.” Said Li Yun decisively. “It’s a soul. I’ve
read from an anecdote, that there was once a demonic almighty being who
was a grandmaster at charms. He was able to carve invisible charms on
people’s three spiritual souls and seven corporeal souls2. He had left
invisible charms on many people’s souls so that life after life, they would
never get rid of his control. I bet Lord Beiming has such means too…”
“Li Yun!” Yan Zhengming was finally revived. Noticing Han Yuan and
Cheng Qian were breathlessly listening to his talk about demonic
cultivators, he immediately cried him down. “Shut up! – Let’s go.”

The whole Celestial Platform was shrouded in a black fog that insulated the
spot of massacre from its surroundings. Standing on the hilltop beside it,
they were totally oblivious to the bloody smell and battle cry from inside.

Out of the blue, a cluster of flames illuminated a corner of the fog-veiled

Celestial Platform, whereupon it spread sideways at an incredible speed.

Yan Zhengming felt a twinge in his heart and shouted out, “Close your
eyes!”

Everyone followed his order subconsciously. But the strong light seemed to
bake their eyes through the eyelids and it looked like the entire world was
dragged into a sea of fire.

For ages, the blazing light didn’t die down. Only the black fog surrounding
the Celestial Platform seemed indestructible, not evanescing a bit.

Cheng Qian was the first to tentatively open his eyes. He was still dazzled
and could barely see a thing only after a couple of blinks.

He saw an egg in front of them… slowly rolling towards them.

1. Cycle: it basically means to go around and begin again, just like the
cycle of seasons. I have a bad naming sense, so I can’t think of a
better to put it. Do you readers have any suggestion?
2. Three spiritual souls and seven corporeal souls: see here.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 17

It had been a whole day and night since Han Yuan had gotten to eat or drink
anything. One could imagine how hungry he was right now. Upon seeing
that the egg that was nearly two Chi1 high, he couldn’t help but swallow
and ask eagerly, “W-what is this?”

“No idea.” Yan Zhengming took half a step back as he darted a warning
glance at Han Yuan. “Don’t touch it! Things in the Demon Valley cannot be
touched rashly. Wipe off your saliva. Come on, let’s go. Master must be
anxious.”

Indeed, it was getting dark and perils lurked everywhere in the Demon
Valley. Without Lord Beiming escorting them on the way back, the road
would only become more dangerous.

Nobody dared to delay, and everyone set off along the way they came. Even
the noisiest Han Yuan became mute.

Men of the world valued brotherhood loyalty the most. He’d forever
remember the debt he owed his senior brothers.

Seeing they were leaving, the egg didn’t give up. It evaded all those
obstacles on the way and chased after them insistently.

Li Yun looked back and shouted, surprise and suspicion in his voice, “Just
which monster’s egg is this? Why is it running after us?”

Cheng Qian, who carried the bear spirit’s fang, coldly said, “Maybe it wants
to be a boiled egg.”

The egg seemed to understand human language, or perhaps it merely felt

the malice from Cheng Qian’s words, as it trembled and hung back for a
moment. At last, it slowly turned around, gingerly avoided Cheng Qian,
rolled to Yan Zhengming’s feet, and stopped there pathetically.

Yan Zhengming briefly paused and then bypassed it heartlessly. But after a
few steps, he couldn’t help looking back. Somehow, he saw an aura of deep
disappointment and pitifulness emitting from its bare eggshell.

Therefore, young master Yan ended up stopping once more. After a few
moments of indecision, he pointed at Han Yuan and said, “You… Hmm, go
pick it up.”

“Ah? Didn’t you tell me not to touch it?” Han Yuan raised his eyebrows and
stared in surprise.

Li Yun also didn’t understand, asking, “First Senior Brother, why?”

How should he answer the question?

Yan Zhengming frowned. He couldn’t really say he found that egg pitiable,
could he?

Then he had a brainwave and came up with an excuse. He loftily said,

“Didn’t Zipeng Zhenren ask us to take the thing on the Celestial Platform
back to her? It’s said that demonic cultivators cannot enter that place, so I
assume she herself doesn’t know what lies there. We can use this to fool
her.”

Having traveled all this way, Li Yun and Cheng Qian were both physically
and mentally exhausted, and had forgotten about the deal with Zipeng
Zhenren. They both agreed to follow this advice after being reminded.

But at the same time, they felt that their devil-may-care first senior brother
was abnormally meticulous this time.

Strangely enough, their journey on the way back had seemed safer than
when they’d gone in even without Lord Beiming’s escort. They’d kept their
guard up the entire time, yet only met several small lower level monsters
rushing by. After many false alarms, they made it back to Zipeng Zhenren’s
abode safely.

The giant bird was still lying prone there, though the image hanging over its
head had disappeared. They were at a temporary loss about whether she was
asleep or dead.

Yan Zhengming turned around to signal his junior brothers to be quiet and
walked forward cautiously to reconnoiter—selfishly, he hoped Zipeng
Zhenren was dead so that she wouldn’t give them trouble… but he knew
that was almost impossible.

All of a sudden, he heard a crack from behind. All of them flinched at the
sound. Their eyes roved around and fell on Han Yuan…and the egg in his
arms. They saw cracks emerging on the eggshell from the top downwards.

Finally, at the center of the cracks, a piece of eggshell came off. Han Yuan
goggled. The thing sticking out of the egg wasn’t a beak, but a hand.

A baby’s hand.

Han Yuan hurriedly placed the egg on the ground, and all four boys gaped
at the sight of a baby crawling out of an egg.

It was like a chubby meatball and looked not at all different from a normal
human baby at first glance, except that it already had the appearance of a
one-year-old mortal infant with two unobtrusive birthmarks on its back.

Han Yuan reached with his muddy hand and poked the egg-born baby. Then
he moved his gaze to the part which he shouldn’t be looking at, and made
an ill-timed judgment. “It – it’s a girl.”

The little baby fell flat on her face from Han Yuan’s poke. She tried to
move her limbs, only to find she wasn’t as mobile as she had been in the
egg. Feeling a little upset, she let out a loud bawl.

And made the entire place wobble.

Han Yuan, who was the closest to her, plunked down on the ground and
screamed, “What the heck is it?”

“Heavenly Monster,” a weak voice answered him.

Zipeng Zhenren had woken up when they weren’t paying attention. She
hung over the giant bird’s head, as vague as a haze, her outline just faintly
visible in her ghostly state.

It seemed that she had no extra strength to mind others, and only
contemplated the little girl on the ground with mixed emotions. At length,
she sighed and said softly, “It is the result of the union between the Monster
Queen and a mortal, and should have been executed right after its birth.
Soaking herself in human blood, the Queen hacked her way into the
Celestial Platform despite the pain of being sliced into pieces and struck by
lightning. She died after placing the child there. As it is born with half-
human blood, the Celestial Platform’s restriction didn’t apply to it. For a
hundred years this egg has not moved, and everyone thought it was
stillborn. No one could have dreamed that one day, the calamity of the
monster species would descend upon her…”

Han Yuan had been befuddled by her narration, but he accurately seized on
the point of it all and exclaimed, “What? The Monster King had been
cheated on?”

“You… shut up…!” Yan Zhengming hissed faintly.

Cheng Qian had listened and understood—they had taken out the “THING”
from Celestial Platform by accident.

That explained why the Monster King couldn’t get rid of this child even
when he had descended and lost his powers—because demonic cultivators
were unable to ascend the Celestial Platform.

But…who had taken her out of the Celestial Platform?

Lord Beiming?
“Bring her over; let me have a look,” Zipeng ordered.

Yan Zhengming was immediately alarmed. “What do you want to do with

her?”

But after that, he seemed to realize his tone was too blunt and hurried to add
even more bluntly, “Senior, this little hen was just born.”

When the wimpish baby cried, Yan Zhengming just hurried away in
distaste. But disliking her was one thing, to give her to Zipeng was another
—as she described it, this infant was a living green hat2 on the Monster
King’s head. Zipeng Zhenren was the Monster King’s servant, so who knew
what she would do to this kid?

Whatever background the little thing had, she only pipped moments ago
and hadn’t yet done anything good or bad.

So how could others decide her life and death freely when there was
nothing to judge?

Zipeng Zhenren didn’t expect that she would be disobeyed; her sickly
image became more and more distinct as she turned to Yan Zhengming
furiously. “How dare—”

But she was interrupted by the baby girl who had been frightened by the
outburst. The baby choked up for a second, and after taking a deep breath
she shrieked at the top of her lungs, “Waaah—”

Her bawling was extraordinarily potent. A quake stronger than the one
before struck the cave again. Rocks came falling down from above. It
looked like Zipeng Zhenren’s abode was about to collapse from the baby’s
crying!

Yan Zhengming: “Get moving!”

“What about her?” Han Yuan looked in bewilderment at the wailing baby
girl.
Li Yun jumped to dodge a falling stone which just narrowly missed his foot,
and said in a panic, “Carry, carry her! She doesn’t even have teeth; you
won’t be bitten!”

Han Yuan snatched her up, holding the baby in a strange way. Probably
because it was less comfortable to be in his hands than to lie on the ground,
the baby’s howl grew even sharper.

In the chaos of flying sand and falling rocks, Han Yuan tripped on the lower
hem of his robe; the robe belonged to Li Yun, who was older and taller than
him, so the lower hem had been dragging on the ground.

Fortunately, Cheng Qian was sharp-eyed and had quick hands. He grabbed
the baby’s leg before she was crushed by Han Yuan, and lifted her upside
down like a radish.

The Heavenly Monster was indeed a born jinx. The poor baby almost got
herself killed as soon as she was born.

Zipeng Zhenren’s raging voice boomed, “No one’s leaving!”

While speaking, her image dispersed and the giant bird that was originally
paralyzed on the ground stood up. It lifted up a foot to stomp them.

Cheng Qian instinctively wanted to resist with the help of his fang. But it
was so heavy that there was no way he could use such an unwieldy weapon
with one hand while carrying a little girl with the other.

Cheng Qian started to regret abandoning his wooden sword. He didn’t even
have enough time to adjust this awkward one-handed hold on the baby’s leg
before he was forced to fall back.

The giant bird’s foot was so enormous that it completely filled up Cheng
Qian’s sight. There wasn’t any way that he could dodge it, and Li Yun had
already run out of his magic water.

Cheng Qian thought he could even feel the talon landing on his head. His
scalp constricted, and he felt that his life had already ended.
Nonetheless, the expected agony didn’t come. Cheng Qian looked up, only
to see Zipeng Zhenren’s giant talon being held up by a wooden sword.

The wooden sword was less than two Cun wide, exactly what they normally
used for practice. The hand holding it was very bony, and all around the
wrist were protruding veins.

“Master!”

Cheng Qian had never felt Muchun Zhenren’s pinched figure so stalwart.

Muchun looked at him and smiled. His eyes roved over his disheveled but
still alive-and-kicking apprentices, and he muttered in his familiar voice,
“You… go first. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he turned his wrist and deftly pushed Zipeng Zhenren’s claw to
the other side, causing it to hit the wall with a loud rumbling sound, shaking
the cave more violently.

Cheng Qian hesitated. He was unwilling to go, but Li Yun pushed him and
said, “Don’t you believe that master will defeat that old hen? Come on, let’s
go.”

This time, even first senior brother didn’t contradict him. Four and a half
people ran out of Zipeng Zhenren’s abode, heading back along the steps to
leave the way they came. By the time they exited the pond, night had
already fallen and the moon had climbed up to the sky.

Cheng Qian loosened the hand he’d used to cover the baby’s mouth and
nose while in the water. He laid her aside and breathed a sigh of relief,
ending the mutual torture for both him and the whining Heavenly Monster.

None of the four mentioned going back. At this moment, the clean freak
forgot about his dirty clothes, and the hungry kid forgot about his hunger.
They sat in a huddle by the pond, waiting for Muchun Zhenren’s return.

1. two Chi: 66.6 cm, or 5 inches

2. green hat: someone wearing a green hat refers to a cuckold in
Chinese.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 18

As the evening progressed, the mood at the shore became increasingly

bleak. Cheng Qian pulled his clothes tighter. He glanced at Han Yuan, who
shivered with cold because of only wearing an outer robe, and felt that the
other boy deserved it.

The moment that thought came to Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming had already
shared the same sentiment out loud.

Yan Zhengming folded his arms in front of his chest, staring at Han Yuan
with a severe expression. He had already thrown his sumptuous sword away
and planned to kick it into the pond as soon as their master returned safely
—that was a sword which had not only poked a toad, but had also killed
mice.

Yan Zhengming said coldly, “It hasn’t even been a month since your
initiation, yet you dared to go to the valley. Seems you’re going to crumble
the Fuyao Mountain to dust in the future? You might as well be roasted and
eaten by those mice!”

Hearing this reproach, Han Yuan, who had been beaten black and blue,
slightly changed his countenance and was about to scowl. However, upon
properly reflecting, his embitterment instantly died out as he remembered
that his senior brothers had taken such risk to save him. He hung his head
listlessly, preparing for the coming rebuke.

Unexpectedly, Li Yun cut in when first senior brother was just about to
reprimand Han Yuan from head to toe. He said softly, “First Senior Brother,
it’s my fault. I’m the one who made little junior brother intrude into the
back mountain. I didn’t know it was connected to the Demon Valley.”
His words stunned everyone.

Although Han Yuan was kind of a stupid person who was always wheeling
and dealing, he wasn’t actually senseless. He did hate Li Yun upon getting
captured and nearly eaten by the mice spirits, but this hatred died away
when he saw Li Yun come to his rescue bare-handed.

Now that Li Yun candidly acknowledged his mistake, the last bit of grudge
in Han Yuan’s heart passed away like a breath of wind.

The little beggar bent his head shyly. “Not at all. No one forced me to go
there. Besides, senior brothers saved me.”

“No… In fact, I didn’t.” Li Yun seemed to have gotten set off; those words
that had once been difficult for him to bring up now poured out like water
rushing out of a floodgate. “I was terribly scared when I discovered what
laid in the valley, and if it weren’t for first senior brother and third junior
brother I would have already attempted to retreat…”

Hearing that, Cheng Qian somehow found Li Yun sort of cute. Though they
were all disorderly and exhausted, never before had they felt so calm, nor
shared such a harmonious atmosphere. Cheng Qian smiled. “Who wouldn’t
have? I also felt freaked out.”

“I didn’t see you freaked out at all,” Yan Zhengming humphed. “Especially
when you climbed up the bear’s body and touched it eighteen times1.”

Cheng Qian was perplexed; he didn’t quite catch that last sentence, so he
explained muddle-headedly, “I didn’t touch it that many times.2 I just
wanted its fang for self-defense. Second Senior Brother was more
courageous; he didn’t even have any weapons with him.”

Hearing junior brother respond to the wrong point, Yan Zhengming

suddenly realized that he seemingly had said something improper—he gave
away his vulgar recreation. A layer of light red rose in his cheeks
immediately.
Li Yun froze momentarily, then quickly dropped his head as though
concealing something. Obviously, he wasn’t any more refined.

Han Yuan was much franker compared to his “sanctimonious” senior

brothers. He was already splitting his sides with laughter, making the little
Heavenly Monster murmur in her sleep.

Only “innocent” little Cheng Qian displayed a baffled face.

Yan Zhengming was shamed into anger. He picked up a stone to throw at

Han Yuan. Han Yuan covered his head and dodged, then distracted Yan
Zhengming by pointing at the Heavenly Monster. “I have something serious
to say! Senior Brother, mercy! Here’s a female monster, are we going to
adopt her?”

“It depends on master. In any case, monsters in the Demon Valley won’t
accept her,” Li Yun said.

Everyone went silent at his words.

No one wanted her.

This sentence prickled Cheng Qian’s heart. He glanced at the Heavenly

Monster, who had fallen fast asleep again after a few murmurs, and
involuntarily felt compassionate because of their shared suffering.

Yan Zhengming said, “It’s most likely that she’ll stay with us. Master loves
to carry things back with him. However, I think we’d better come up with a
name for her before master returns. Otherwise…”

He pointedly looked sidelong at Han Yuan, whose eyelids twitched at the

thought of his unlucky name.

Yan Zhengming sneered, “If master names her Han Shouzhi(sucking

fingers), I’m afraid she’d want to die when she grows up.”

They started discussing all of the most elegant and common names for a
girl.
Eventually, Yan Zhengming made the final decision. “Since we took her out
of the pond, I think ‘Tan(pond)’ is good. And combined with master’s
surname, the full name will be Han Tan.”

Han Yuan added: “Not bad, and we’ve got a pet name for her, ‘Puddle’.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

He didn’t even bother beating Han Yuan this time because it would only
detract from his own elegance.

A long time passed, and because he’d been so sleepy and tired, Cheng Qian
had unconsciously dozed off on top of a rock while listening to the sound of
his martial brothers’ relaxed chatting. When the dew began to form and
dawn was to break, he was nudged awake.

Cheng Qian gave a start. Rubbing his eyes, he saw Muchun Zhenren staring
at them, his face shadowed with melancholy. The decency he had shown
while fighting Zipeng was nowhere to be seen now.

Muchun was confused. How did his disciples enter the valley as four
people, and after passing a day, come out as five?

After running his eyes over his early-riser first apprentice, his yawning
second apprentice, his blankly-staring third apprentice, and finally the
fourth apprentice who looked down to avoid eye contact, he sighed, “Do
you know why I look like Zipeng Zhenren’s father when I am actually three
hundred years younger than her?”

Before they replied Muchun continued, looking straight at Han Yuan.

“Because she didn’t have any apprentice.”

Han Yuan’s chin almost dropped to the ground.

“Master, what did you say to that old hen?” Yan Zhengming interrupted as
if he hadn’t sensed the hint of criticism in master’s words. “Did she scratch
you?”
Muchun Zhenren rolled his eyes heavenward. “I naturally talked sense into
her—Zhengming, cultivators should be cautious, pay attention to their
words and deeds, and try to win people over through virtue. Why are you
always verbally abusing your seniors?”

“She almost scratched me! Someday I’m going to pull out all of her feathers
and make a duster out of them to clean the Mission Hall!”

Muchun: “…”

Finishing that, Yan Zhengming felt much more comfortable, and just then
thought of the business.

“By the way, Master,” he said to Muchun very casually, “We’ve picked up
an apprentice for you!”

Muchun Zhenren looked at the chubby Heavenly Monster, and then looked
into the boundless sky, helplessly sighing, “My little apprentices, let your
master live a few years longer!”

Their master helplessly accepted the new apprentice, and Han Tan became
their little junior sister.

In countless folk tales, the “little junior sister” of a sect was someone who
would inspire fancy in people’s minds. They were peerless beauties with
snow-white skin, or little dolls who smiled like blooming flowers… But
presumably, no one would like to hear the tales of those fairies at their
diaper-stage.

At the start, Muchun Zhenren intended to arrange Yan Zhengming’s maids

to look after her by turns. But things didn’t turn out as he hoped. The
Heavenly Monster cried so hard that three rooms crashed down in less than
one day and a half.

Her cry could even make Zipeng Zhenren’s abode collapse, let alone such
houses built with bricks and tiles.
Muchun Zhenren had no choice but to transfer little Puddle to a cave at the
mountainside, which was said to be an ancestor’s retreat and could
withstand the thunders from the highest of the heavens.

But in this way, Yan Zhengming’s pretty maids were dissatisfied.

The most work they had ever done in the Land of the Tender was just
combing, burning incense, and pruning. How could they withstand the
torment of such a little imp? Besides, the old senior must have been an
ascetic, as there was nothing but stones in the cave. The bed was a large
hard rock, and the chair was a small hard rock… Was this really a place for
humans to stay?

These tearful maids ran back to the sect leader and announced that they
would rather die than go there.

In a fit of rage, Muchun Zhenren ordered his apprentices to take turns to

babysit their powerful junior sister —after all, who were the ones that had
caused this blunder and brought her back?

The apprentices took the punishment, taking turns to bring disaster to… no,
take care of little Puddle.

Han Yuan who was, needless to say, a reckless beggar, had wrapped her in
diapers and changed this gifted junior sister into a dusty quasi-beggar
within just one day.

And because this gluttonous fourth senior brother had eaten most of her
porridge, when the master had gone over to see her in the evening, he had
been shocked by the scene of the hungry girl almost about to chomp down
on a big fat worm.

Even Cheng Qian, who seemed to be more reliable, had turned out to be the
very opposite. When it came to his turn, he just took his homework with
him to the cave, and after finishing it, found some notes left behind by the
predecessor. Although he couldn’t understand most of them, he still studied
them all night. When Cheng Qian was absorbed in something, even
tribulation thunder couldn’t distract him. So, he had completely forgotten
about the existence of his little junior sister. By the time he realized it, his
little junior sister had fallen asleep with dried porridge and tear stains
covering her face.

The worst was Yan Zhengming. He came to the cave with a dozen Taoist
children as if he was about to take vengeance, and ordered them around
while not taking a single half-step into the cave himself. Every time the
hapless baby finished defecating or urinating, her first senior brother would
show a look of great loathing and keep a distance of at least eight Zhang
away from her, ordering the Taoist children to keep washing her several
times and to perfume her so heavily that a passing-by bee had fainted from
the excessive scent.

The most outrageous was Li Yun. Li Yun thought his little junior sister was
pitiful because she couldn’t walk steadily with her short legs, so he dribbled
a few droplets of the Toad Liquid on her body, tied a rope around her neck,
and then took his toad junior sister on a walk around the mountain…

After all of this, Muchun Zhenren dared not to hand Puddle over to any of
his apprentices. She also is a life, after all.

That was how he ended up getting someone to weave him a basket for
carrying the Heavenly Monster on his back, and tormenting her every day
with those strange scriptures.

1. eighteen touches: a traditional Chinese folk song, which is flirtatious,

bawdy and erotic in nature, considered vulgar and tasteless it has
been banned numerous times. See more here.
2. in Chinese, a number doesn’t necessarily mean the number it
represents, it can also mean “many”. This always happens to
multiples of 3, like 3, 6, 9; but it can also lead to misunderstanding.
So when Yan Zhengming said “eighteen” to mean that Cheng Qian
searched around the bear’s body, Cheng Qian just took it literally.
That’s how this conversation happened.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 19

Usually, those who grew up together would naturally get close to each other
and become good friends. However, this didn’t apply to those whelps on the
Fuyao Mountain. One was overly coddled, one was always up to mischief,
one was extremely detached, and one was unusually slovenly in dressing
style and manner… But after the trip to the Demon Valley, the estrangement
between the four martial brothers unknowingly melted away, and thus they
began to reveal their true nature.

Muchun Zhenren felt very grateful about this at first. But soon he realized,
that it would have been better if they had remained the same as they were
before.

A mischievous child is only a child; two together makes 1000 ducks; and
three combined, seas are overturned; as for four…

Peace has escaped from Fuyao Mountain—

One day, the more and more presumptuous young master Yan hit upon a
strange idea that he wanted to put a censer under every junior brother’s
desk. Thus, the Mission Hall kept emitting smoke that whole day like a
large stockpot, while the culprit just slept comfortably in the vast expanse
of whiteness like a joyful dumpling floating on the soup.

Li Yun couldn’t abide the sight of his cosy sleep. After a flash of
inspiration, he took out the formula of “Sweet-Dream Incense”.

“Sweet-Dream Incense” was, without doubt, not as good natured as its

name. It was said that it could bring people erotic dreams when burnt
during their sleep.

Knowing that, Han Yuan volunteered to prepare it.

As everyone knows, Han Yuan always did things topsy-turvy, so what
would you expect from a person who couldn’t even read characters?

What’s worse, the little beggar was also passionate about innovation. He
daringly added his own ideas to the formula —he mixed two extra spices to
it, which accidentally made the “Sweet-Dream Incense” psychedelic. Then
he stuffed it into his own censer expectantly when first senior brother was
having a morning nap.

That day, all the creatures around the Mission Hall went crazy.

Two butterflies floundered over master’s head, quivering their wings and
making it seem as if master was wearing a hairpin of the gaudiest kind.

And Li Yun’s new favorite pet—a bellied katydid, crawled drunkenly out of
its cage. At some strange pace, it plunged into Cheng Qian’s ink slab.
Cheng Qian’s hand which had been lifting a writing brush, ready to dip it in
ink, froze in the air. The flecks of ink on his sleeve were like a cluster of
black plum blossoms.

Master had never been so attractive to butterflies that he couldn’t even

continue reading the sculptures. He pushed Puddle, who climbed onto his
head to catch butterflies, back to her basket on his back. Discomfited and
exasperated, he rebuked Han Yuan in his drawling voice like a laodan1
singing an opera, and commanded him to put the censor out.

Han Yuan grinned cheekily. He took out the censer from under the table and
was about to splash it with a bowl of tea. As Li Yun snickered at his
master’s new look, Cheng Qian picked out the katydid using two brushes
and tossed it into the censer, tittering, “Junior Brother, let me do you a
favor.”

Li Yun: “Oh no!”

But it was too late. The katydid and Han Yuan’s tea had showered on the
censer. Those censers that young master Yan brought here all had
waterproof charms on them. If you did want to put it out, you’d have to
pour the water through some special holes and canals. Being provoked, the
waterproof charm fought back right away. A flame leapt up and sputtered,
but surprisingly Li Yun’s katydid wasn’t burnt dead. It scooted out of the
fire in a cloak of flames and scurried into master’s moustache, leaving a
sharp streak of sparks across the air.

That was where the spices in the incense came in—the katydid burnt
master’s mustache into a strand of flavorsome charred hair.

On that very same day, both Han Yuan and Lin Yun were punished by
writing the scriptures twenty times; Yan Zhengming also didn’t escape the
punishment. He was made to write it out ten times because he was the
initiator and it was too unreasonable of him to sleep overtly in the morning
class. Although Cheng Qian played a part too, considering that he had no
intention of that and had admitted his fault timely, he was the only one that
was spared.

Because of this, Yan Zhengming unashamedly halted Cheng Qian on his

way back to Qing’an Dwelling in the evening. Putting on the air of first
senior brother, he said, “Little Copper Coin2, I happen to have free time
today, do you want me to give some guidance on your swordsmanship?”

Through the past period of getting along with him, Cheng Qian had already
got him sussed out—when it came to eating or playing, young master Yan
was bound to march first. But once asked to sit down to study, he’d
immediately become a “sick beauty”, grumbling that he was aching from
toenails to hair.

Just now when Yan Zhengming was practicing swordplay, he even claimed
to have heatstroke.

He offered to give some guidance? Only when pigs fly.

Unsurprisingly, in the next moment, his first senior brother spoke out his
true purpose unblushingly. “Alas, I suddenly remembered that master asked
me to copy the scriptures. Hmm… it seems that I don’t have free time now,
but if you could help me with that…”

As they saying goes, an owl in the house—he doesn’t come with nothing.3
So Cheng Qian declined him without any hesitation. “Senior Brother, you
might as well just write the scriptures. I dare not trouble you to do such
heavy manual labor as practicing swordplay. I’m afraid you may sprain
your back.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Why couldn’t people forever remain the same as they used to be? His
hypocritical yet courteous third junior brother would never return.

“Wait!” Yan Zhengming was loath to give up. He turned his head and
scanned around. Seeing nobody else, he threw his arm around Cheng Qian’s
neck and pulled him over, saying quietly, “Write me a few copies, and I’ll
tell you a secret.”

Cheng Qian sighed and said in all earnestness, “First Senior Brother, if the
secret is ‘how to tie your belt to make it flutter’, you needn’t tell me.”

Without a word, Yan Zhengming just took advantage of his height and
abducted Cheng Qian by carrying him under his arms—he walked so
quickly that it was as if wind blew under his feet, not one bit like someone
who’d gotten sunstroke.

Cheng Qian seldom wandered around the mountain. His life was confined
to a narrow trip between Qing’an Dwelling and Mission Hall.

Of course it wasn’t because he had no curiosity, but that he had strong self-
control. He thought that it would be unacceptable if he ran about before he
truly learned something. Therefore, although he knew there were a lot of
caves left by predecessors, he never visited any of them.

Yan Zhengming carried him to the top of a hill. In the whistling of the wind,
he took him to a big stone which resembled a monkey. “Here we are.”

Cheng Qian shot a glance at the stone and was surprised. “This… Is this a
statue put up for little junior brother?”
“Little brat, just go on with your acid humor, you’ll be begging me soon
enough.” Said Yan Zhengming, his tone triumphant.

Finishing that, he produced a handkerchief out of his bosom and wiped the
dust off the stone, revealing a crack outlining the shape of a gate.

Yan Zhengming put his hand on that “gate”, head down and eyes closed for
a moment. After some creaks, he pushed open the gate on the stone
monkey’s stomach. It was a dark cramped cave inside, with a flight of steps
heading downwards to the deep.

Yan Zhengming: “This gate can only be opened by people who can absorb
qi into their body. Unless you go to beg master, no one else except me can
take you in.”

With that, he bent and went in.

Cheng Qian followed him languidly. He wasn’t very interested, so he asked

perfunctorily, “What’s this place?”

“No name, but master calls it a Library.” Answered Yan Zhengming as he

led the way.

Cheng Qian was taken aback.

Charms were carved on both sides of the stone walls. It seemed that they
could sense people coming in, as the walls that were originally dark gave
off dim light as they entered. It wasn’t dazzling, but enough for
illumination.

“It has an expansive collection of ancient books and records passed down
through thousands of years. Apart from scriptures of various schools which
master preferes the most, there are many cultivation methods and swordplay
collected by seniors.” If Yan Zhengming had a tail, it must have been
sticking up now. “Little Copper Coin, if you can help me when master asks
me to copy scriptures or sect rules… I can open the gate for you every ten
days, how about that?”
As he spoke, they were reaching the end of the steps. A burst of the smell of
ink from old papers assaulted their nostrils. Cheng Qian couldn’t help but
ask doubtfully, “If so, then why did I never see senior brother come down
here?”

“You can’t bite off more than you can chew; and more haste, less speed. I’m
focusing on the Fuyao Wooden Swordplay right now, I’ll get easily
distracted if I learn more than I should.” Yan Zhengming answered sternly.

Just one set of introduction swordplay had been taking him seven or eight
years to practice, he really had the cheek to say that—

The narrow blind alley led suddenly into an open space. A huge cave
presented itself. A book shelf stood there majestically from the ground to
the roof. Piles of glass tablets, bamboo slips, hides and paper were neatly
arranged by categories, including cultivation methods, swordplay, and
varieties of erratic tricks, as well as travel notes of famous mountains and
great rivers and so forth.

And in the back of the cave, there were steps leading to even deeper.

“The Library has nine floors in total with numerous collections. Li Yun’s
formulas were just stolen out of here by me when I came to do cleanings.
Tsk, the ne’er-do-well—by the way, Copper Coin, have you decided to
write scriptures for me or not?” Said Yan Zhengming, hands clasped behind
him.

Cheng Qian felt he was a mouse falling into a rice jar—it fitted his wishes
exactly.

He never felt Yan Zhengming was so pleasing to the eye. Right now, he
would even answer yes if his first senior asked him to marry him, let alone
to copy scriptures!

Thus from then on, Cheng Qian started a more secluded life. He not only
worked hard on his own study but also snatched every minute of his free
time to share the mounting punishment of first senior brother’s, and had to
digest the books he’d read in the Library in the dead of the night.
As promised, every ten days Yan Zhengming would open the gate for him.
Cheng Qian was so covetous that he wished he could hold the entire Library
in his brain. Every time he’d devour several passages and then used the next
ten days to digest them.

Such days were full and elapsed very quickly. With the change of seasons, a
year passed in a flash.

During this year, the Heavenly Monster, Puddle, had showed her nonhuman
side—she’d learned to crawl, walk and jump very prematurely. Even
though she was only one-year-old, her height already reached that of a
three-or-four-year-old mortal girl.

Cheng Qian continued to visit the Library with unfailing regularity.

Meanwhile, his handwriting was improving too, getting more and more like
the characters on the stone gate at the mountain waist, and he even learned
to imitate Yan Zhengming’s handwriting.

At first, Yan Zhengming thought that Cheng Qian would take several books
on erratic tricks or anecdotes out on the sly, just as Li Yun did. But much to
his surprise, he once caught a glimpse of him seriously reading swordplay
and cultivation methods.

Yan Zhengming, the worthless first senior brother thus drew a conclusion—
Copper Coin was crazy.

Cheng Qian was an absolute aberration on the Fuyao Mountain, especially

in contrast with Han Yuan, who couldn’t even recognize all the characters
of the sect rules after a year had passed since he entered the sect.

One day, when Yan Zhengming opened the gate of the Library for Cheng
Qian again, he couldn’t help but ask the question he had wanted to ask.

“Copper Coin,” Said the young master seriously. “What the heck are you
planning to do? To cause trouble at the Southern Heavenly Gates4?”

“Master said, ‘the stalk and the pillar, the leader and the beautiful Xi Shi5,
and all sorts of strange things and fantastic phenomena–they are all one
from the viewpoint of Tao.’ The Tao(paths) may take different shapes, it
never departs from the original aim. So I plan to read more so as to
complement to the cultivation methods of our sect.” Cheng Qian
prevaricated.

“You’ve just entered the cultivation world for a year, why would you even
rush to read cultivation methods?” Yan Zhengming said out of curiosity.

“Last year, when we got back from the Demon Valley, didn’t first senior
brother say that you’ll pluck all of Zipeng Zhenren’s feathers out? How can
you defeat her if you don’t learn any cultivation methods?”

Yan Zhengming got more surprised. “Yes, I did say that. But I also said
‘one day’. The old hen is more than eight hundred years old, while I’m just
sixteen. What’s the hurry? Perhaps I’ll be more powerful than her after
seven or eight hundred years.”

He was definitely daydreaming…

During last year, Yan Zhengming’s height growth had accelerated, he was
more and more like an adult male. Immaturity was disappearing from his
behaviors while sanguinity and elegance was being brought out. After a
look at his own slim arms and slowly-growing height and another look at
first senior brother, Cheng Qian was more or less envious.

But his admire and appreciation wasn’t enough to make him endure Yan
Zhengming’s aggravating narcissism.

That guy seemed to feel his beauty could even outshine Song Yu and shame
Pan An6. Every reflective surface—puddles after the rain, shiny blades,
could all be used by him as a mirror. From his facial expressions when
looking at the mirror, Cheng Qian could refer that Yan Zhengming’s heart
must be full of praises for himself.

For a man who took swords as a mirror, would it make any difference
whether he’d cultivate eight hundred or eight thousand years?
Cheng Qian couldn’t think of anything to say to him and walked aside to
continue the book he failed to finish last time.

Feeling that the sect was never going to go up again.

1. laodan: an old female character in Chinese opera. see more here.

2. Copper Coin will be a nickname used by Yan Zhengming to call
Cheng Qian.
3. A Chinese saying, if an owl comes to your house, it brings either
good or bad fortune.
4. Southern Heavenly Gates: said to be the entrance from the mortal
realm to immortal realm in mythologies.
5. Xi Shi: one of the renowned Four Beauties of ancient China. See
more here.
6. Song Yu and Pan An are two of the Four Handsome Men in ancient
China, the other two are Prince of Lan Ling and Wei Jie. Though I
didn’t find the English wiki page for Wei Jie, I did find a funny video
on YouTube called “The Four Hottest Guys in Chinese History”.[ED:
hubba hubaa]
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 20

After a few paces, Yan Zhengming thought of something and turned back.
He fished a package of milk cakes out of his sleeve and gave it to Cheng
Qian churlishly. “Take it, little dwarf.”

Cheng Qian readily accepted it without saying thanks. He waved his hand
impatiently, signaling Yan Zhengming to piss off quickly.

That day, he finished reading Introduction to Charms. After finishing the

desserts, he suddenly felt like cleaning the ground floor of the Library.

The ground floor of the Library was like a dump. With no one coming for
years, it had been covered by a thick layer of dust. All other floors, walls
and shelves were carved with moth-proof and damp-proof charms, but only
the ground floor was an exception. Everywhere you could see worm-eaten
and page-missing books, whose contents were multifarious and disorderly.
Cookbooks, gardening books, esoterica for brewing, and even a
pornographic album—a buttock of the man on the head-page had been
“eaten” by worms.

Perhaps due to the influence of first senior brother, Cheng Qian just felt
disturbed by the messy sight, so he couldn’t help but decide to clean it up.

This cleaning rewarded Cheng Qian with a surprise—he found a wall

bestrewn with small characters behind a broken shelf. Brushing the dust and
cobwebs off, he finally saw the characters clearly.

The title was concise: Diabolism.

Cheng Qian was startled; he didn’t expect that such things existed in the
Library of Fuyao Sect. He wavered, thinking that he shouldn’t peep. But
when he lifted his foot to leave, he reminded himself of Lord Beiming.

Cheng Qian forced his eyes to not rove. He cleaned the ground floor up at a
snail’s pace and went upstairs reluctantly.

But shortly after he left, he regretted it and quickly ran back, reading the
writings on the wall word by word.

That wall recorded hundreds of thousands of kinds of Diabolism, among

which were those who became diabolical from sensuality, bloodthirstiness,
obsession… Some volunteered and some were the result of coincidence.
But Cheng Qian soon found that apart from a few disgusting cultivation
methods, many of the others didn’t seem so abnormal.

Among demonic cultivators, some people also practiced the Tao of sword
and charms. And even the classification and practicing ways of charms
weren’t so different from what master had taught first senior brother.

Cheng Qian had been seeking the way of feeling qi in the natural world and
absorbing it into his body, so he’d read many different types of cultivation
methods. Thus, he was also surprised that the way of absorbing qi recorded
here was very similar to those recorded in other cultivation methods; they
all required “inner peace”, “purity of mind” and such.

Cheng Qian was imbued with doubts. So the next day, he decided to ask his
master.

Muchun Zhenren lifted his own head upon hearing the question. For a
second, Cheng Qian felt a black mist flash across his eyes. But it was so
quick that Cheng Qian thought perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him.

“Diabolism?” Muchun Zhenren looked distracted. There was a silence

before he asked, “Why are you asking about that?”

Yan Zhengming used a book of swordplay to cover his face and gave Cheng
Qian a good kick under the desk, lest the brat give away that he’d taken him
into the Library without permission.
Cheng Qian was banged into the stone desk by this kick and almost fell.
Angered, he kicked back at once, leaving a black footprint on first senior
brother’s white satin shoe, and forgot to answer master’s question.

Muchun Zhenren had already gotten used to them kicking each other under
the desk, so he didn’t pay much attention. He deliberated carefully and said,
“The stalk and the pillar, the leader and the beautiful Xi Shi, and all sorts of
strange things and fantastic phenomena–they are all one from the viewpoint
of Tao. There’s no right way to the Great Tao. Different routes can lead to
the same destination; demonic cultivators are just taking a different way. It’s
not strange that those ways have similarities.”

Cheng Qian found his words strangely familiar. Then he remembered—

wasn’t that what he said to swindle first senior brother in the Library?

As he thought about it, he hurried to lift his feet and avoided first senior
brother’s second kick.

Cheng Qian couldn’t shake off the feeling that master was putting him off,
so he questioned closely, “Master, why do we choose this one instead of the
other?”

Muchun Zhenren looked at him silently. At length, he said meaningfully,

“The plum tree by the road has fruited, but nobody goes to pick. Do you
know why? Because it must be bitter!”

His words were like a pot of cold water pouring on Cheng Qian’s head
down to his tailbone, cooling off his inner depths thoroughly. He felt that
master had seen through him completely.

After meeting Lord Beiming, the words “grandmaster of all magic” had
been rooted into his mind. While in the Demon Valley, those monsters that
were invincible in his eyes seemed to be unworthy of mentioning in Lord
Beiming’s. Even the arrogant Zipeng Zhenren trembled in his wake.

Last time, when Li Yun talked about demonic cultivators, he was shouted
down by Yan Zhengming. That enabled Cheng Qian to have a glimpse of
people’s common attitude towards demonic cultivators. But anyhow, he was
still attracted to seek the truth on his own.

Before being disabused today, Cheng Qian had thought a lot. He’d been
thinking that since he already had a partiality, he would always be able to
retort no matter what master said. However, the older, the wiser. Although
Muchun Zhenren’s words seemed to weigh light, it actually dealt a heavy
blow to Cheng Qian’s chest, shattering all of those excuses he’d came up
with into pieces.

Cheng Qian’s curiosity evaporated in a flash. He inclined his head

respectfully, saying, “Many thanks, Master.”

Cheng Qian’s comprehension exceeded Muchun Zhenren’s expectations.

Feeling gratified and satisfied, he coughed to draw his apprentices’
attention and announced, “Apprentices, work hard these days; we’ll go on a
trip.”

“What?”

“Where?”

Exclaimed the apprentices in chorus. Some were delighted and some were
shocked—for someone like Han Yuan, a trip was of course like a festival;
but for Yan Zhengming, it was like a thunderbolt out of the clear sky.

Muchun Zhenren said, “The decennial Celestial Market is about to open.

You only have a very narrow view of the real cultivation world on Fuyao
Mountain; it’s about time you open your eyes to the outside. And I’ll drop
by at a few friends’. Since we all have apprentices, comparison is
unavoidable, so make sure your master doesn’t lose face.”

Losing face… was also unavoidable.

Yan Zhengming was the first to understand what that meant. He sat square
and said in all seriousness, “Master, in case I bring you into contempt, you
may just take junior brothers and sister; I’ll stay to look after the house.”

“Taoist children can look after the house, it needn’t bother the first
apprentice of our sect,” said Muchun, looking at him benevolently.

“No way! What if things go wrong in the mountain cave again? And what if
some thieves covet the treasures here and come to steal?” Yan Zhengming
retorted plausibly.

Muchun Zhenren replied unhurriedly, “Zipeng Zhenren and I have reached

an agreement that day. She has sealed the cave, so you don’t need to worry.
Plus, there are charms at the foot of the mountain and Taoist children
guarding the gate; common thieves can’t go up.”

Yan Zhengming was about to continue arguing, but Han Yuan, who had
been itching for the trip, couldn’t help but cut in, “Senior Brother, why are
you acting like a young lady who never steps out of the house?”

Young master Yan’s face turned crimson from anger. He gave a sweeping
jerk of his sleeves and flung off, feeling that the Hans couldn’t be more
detestable.

Muchun Zhenren saw him off smilingly. Then stroking Han Yuan’s head, he
threatened him with the same kindly face, “Xiao-Yuan, since you made no
effort to seek progress and haven’t remembered the sect rules so far, how
about you stay and watch the house?”

Han Yuan suddenly lost his high spirit, like a frosted eggplant.

The next ten days, Fuyao Mountain was thrown into bedlam by the first
apprentice, Yan Zhengming.

In order to not go on the trip, Yan Zhengming feigned illness and did
everything he could to oppose his master, to the point that he nearly acted
shamelessly to beg his master.

Unfortunately, Muchun Zhenren steadfastly refused to indulge him this

time. His determination to get his first apprentice down the mountain was
rather unshakable.

Han Yuan was exactly the opposite. In order to go out, he spent almost
every second and minute on memorizing the sect rules. Nevertheless, this
guy’s brain was probably not designed for this. Those characters made his
poor head spin, yet he still couldn’t memorize them all. Cheng Qian had
seen Han Yuan knock his head against the wall, as though he was demented.

And the master also became mysterious about his whereabouts.

That day, Cheng Qian spread a piece of rice paper on the Peaceful Stone1,
writing the Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness from memory.

Since the day he received the answer to his doubts from Master, he’d had a
feeling that he seemed to have touched something, but it was wrapped in a
thin film which he had no means to break for now, so he was a bit anxious.

Anxiety does no good to cultivation. Cheng Qian had to stop his other work
to write scriptures to calm his mind down.

But halfway through that, he heard a knock at the door. Xueqing went to
answer it and after a minute came back with a chubby girl in his arms. That
was exactly his junior sister, Puddle.

Puddle had half-demon blood, so she was naturally different from normal
girls. She had a fondness for exertion of an unusual degree of activity—
climbing the tree and up to the roof was just a cinch for her. But she
couldn’t speak yet. On this score, she was more like a clever and nimble
animal full of intelligence. She was already able to recognize others’
emotions by their tones and behaviors when she was still in an egg. But
strangely, she was extremely slow when it came to specific speech.

Master said, it could be her demon blood at work; it wouldn’t be strange if

she couldn’t speak even when she reached ten.

Puddle probably sneaked out when master didn’t notice. There were only
two things that could attract kids: food and playthings. Puddle usually
preferred going to the Land of the Tender, because as a neat freak, first
senior brother would always prepare a lot of good food to get rid of her as
soon as possible. Once Puddle came, he’d use food as bait and ask her to
bring disaster to others. Puddle secondly liked to go to Han Yuan’s place—
as Han Yuan himself was a “plaything” for her.

But she rarely came for Cheng Qian, because Cheng Qian didn’t like
playing with her.

And she was never interested in Li Yun—he had turned her into a toad.

As it was rare to have junior sister in Qing’an Dwelling, Cheng Qian was
surprised. “Why are you here?”

“Ah ahh,” Puddle groaned. She went up to pull Cheng Qian’s trousers, and
with a puff, her clothes were ripped up by something behind her. Startled,
Cheng Qian turned her over and saw two wings of an unknown bird
growing out of her back!

1. In case you forgot, Peaceful Stone is a huge stone in Cheng Qian’s

yard, first mentioned in Chapter 4.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 21

When a small pair of wings suddenly sprouted out of her back—even

though they were a part of her, they definitely hurt the same way a normal
kid’s growing pains did. She probably hadn’t been able to find Muchun
Zhenren, or her first senior brother who was busy acting up, or even her
fourth senior brother who had buried himself in memorizing the sect rules,
so the only person she could grievously weep to was Cheng Qian.

Cheng Qian held Puddle’s wings and observed them carefully for a few
minutes, discovering that her wings were perfectly attached to her body.
The only problem was that they looked kind of like chicken wings. A worry
formed his mind: if master saw them, would he ask the cooks to make
grilled chicken wings for a month on end?

“It’s nothing to cry about. They’re a gift from your mother.” Cheng Qian
clumsily picked her up, feeling that the girl seemed to have lost quite much
weight—or at least, she wasn’t as heavy as she looked.

Did her body get lighter after a part of it changed into a bird?

Normally, a good number of years of cultivation was required for monsters

to change into human shape. Cheng Qian had caught a few glimpses of
records about monster cultivators, but he just carelessly skimmed through
them as if they were short stories since they didn’t have any actual use to
him.

Since Puddle was half-human and half-monster, she should have the
inherent ability to change between human and monster forms, but he wasn’t
sure if she could freely do so as she wished.
Cheng Qian leveled his line of sight with little Puddle’s, trying to say to her
in a mild tone, “I don’t know what to do, but you should try concentrating.
Just focus on making them smaller and hide them… ‘hide’, you know? Hey,
Junior Sister, can you understand human language?”

Puddle stared at him with big innocent eyes, making it hard to tell whether
she understood it or not. But seeing her muddled expression, Cheng Qian
was prepared to believe that she didn’t understand anything.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Forget it, I’ll take you to find master.”

Puddle flapped over his arms, muttering “ah ah”. Then she clenched her
fist, face reddening and eyes crossing from holding the breath.

Just when Cheng Qian thought she could deal with it herself, the small
wings on Puddle’s back suddenly extended to seven or eight Chi long with a
swishing sound. Feathers went all over the floor, and Cheng Qian was
nearly slapped in the face by the enlargement of her wings.

Cheng Qian stared in astonishment at his junior sister who had changed into
a giant bird. The back of Puddle’s clothes had been torn apart by her wings;
luckily she was still at the age of wearing open pants. But that pair of wings
was indeed too big, and the girl carrying them was so small that she almost
couldn’t be seen amidst those wings. She looked like a large moth floating
in the air—a truly weird scene.

“…”

Cheng Qian recovered from his shock and gazed in dismay at Puddle. “I
asked you to make them smaller, not bigger!”

The little girl that Cheng Qian could have lifted with a sole hand had now
become extremely heavy because of her giant wings. If he hadn’t been
practicing swordplay for as long as he had, he would’ve hardly been able to
carry her.

Puddle looked at him innocently. She swayed in Cheng Qian’s arms, unable
to keep her back straight because of the weight of the wings.
They still needed to find Master for help. Cheng Qian strenuously held her
and walked toward the outside. However… Together, they got stuck in the
door of Qing’an Dwelling.

Cheng Qian: “…”

Good Heavens…

Perhaps a girl of any age would never love to face the fact that she was
stuck in the door and couldn’t get out. Puddle wasn’t a baby who cried
often, but now looking injuredly at her wings, she cried out loud.

Normal kids could cry as they wanted, but Puddle’s cry had the power of
collapsing houses.

Cheng Qian was caught in a terrible mess. He tried his best to keep his
balance and talk with her at the same time. “Having big wings doesn’t mean
you’re fat… really. There, there, stop crying, try folding your wings. F-O-
L-D, understood?”

Puddle looked at him, sobbing and sniffing. At Cheng Qian’s comforting

words, she gradually stopped tears.

Cheng Qian was temporarily relieved, harboring the distant hope that she
had really understood this time.

But then his little junior sister astounded him by fully spreading her wings.
She tried flapping her wings and, after activating some kind of hidden
instinct, slowly rose into the air.

Her huge wings caused a whirlwind, blowing great clouds of dust into the
sky. Several delicate orchids in the yard suffered, tilting topsy-turvy in the
wind and sand. Cheng Qian couldn’t open his eyes, and only felt that his
clothes had been caught by a pair of hands.

Puddle’s plump hands turned into claws which tightly clutched Cheng Qian.
Cheng Qian immediately had a premonition.

And the next second, his premonition came true.

He was lifted into the sky by the mighty Puddle. His heart sank. Cheng
Qian’s first instinct was to struggle, but as she was flying higher and higher,
he didn’t dare to move anymore and only shouted his junior sister’s formal
name in the roaring wind. “Han Tan! Put me down!”

Puddle shut her ears to his screaming… even if she heard, she didn’t seem
to understand.

Never had Cheng Qian imagined that his very first experience of riding on
clouds would happen like this. He wanted to laugh and weep all at once. He
couldn’t help wondering if, even though he had escaped death in the Demon
Valley, he was going to end up dying after all under his own junior sister’s
claws.

With him in tow, Puddle flew over the gate of the Qing’an Dwelling and
above the green-as-jade bamboo forest. Eventually, the entire Fuyao
Mountain had disappeared beneath their feet.

Cheng Qian looked down at the panorama of a sweeping mountain ridge

dyed in emerald green. On one side of the ridge was a slight slope softly
drenched in light, while on the other side was a deep and gloomy valley
hidden in the shadow of the mountains.

Countless caves and empty yards loomed along the mountains. Some had
steles at the entrance, some had statues, and some had none. In the passage
of thousands of years, people came and went, serving as the links between
past and future. Those cultivation methods and all other records were buried
deep in the Library as the blood and bones of history. They were probably
the products of those almighty beings, talents, persons of virtues, or even
villains…

But now, they were all no more.

The whole Fuyao Sect had only a weasel master left with several naughty
apprentices, hiding behind the world of mortals. Only the whirlwind(Fuyao)
was still spiraling up to the sky.
At this height the wind blew keenly, the sharp edge biting Cheng Qian.
However, he gradually lost the haunting fear that had plagued him at first.

Cheng Qian exhaled a breath, letting it go together with the hatred that had
smouldered in his heart for years.

He thought once again of Lord Beiming, and then of his parents who,
probably, were counting the little money they had somewhere in the remote
hinterland. Suddenly, he clearly understood the secret wishes that he had
hidden in the depths of his heart.

Why did he aspire to be someone like Lord Beiming?

If someday he became an almighty being who freely traveled around the

world, and to whom all creatures cowered and all human beings knelt…
would his parents feel regretful when he returned home?

Right now, as he floated amongst the clouds and watched the caves and
yards fade into distance, Cheng Qian’s boggled heart suddenly emptied.

Their mortal lifetime only had thirty or fifty years left. Even if he
incessantly schemed to return a slap to his parents’ faces now, what would
happen then?

Perhaps they would have already ceased to exist by the time he actually
achieved something.

Or perhaps they would still be alive. But after more than half a lifetime had
passed, even if they felt regret over the child they had sent away in the early
years, would there be anything left other than regret?

If he had really been special to them, why would they have sent him away
so ruthlessly?

In the first place there hadn’t been any affection for him, much less
something like lingering guilt or hoping for his forgiveness.

Cheng Qian suddenly relaxed his taut shoulders, throwing himself at the
mercy of his junior sister.
He realized that the hatred he’d considered as profound to him, was by all
means unfounded.

There was a wall breaking down in Cheng Qian’s heart. In an instant, he

heard the murmurs in the Fuyao Mountain again, like what he heard when
first senior brother fell into meditation. But this time, those currents of air
didn’t brush past him; they ran into his body like rivers emptying into the
sea.

Without catching or tarrying, the currents came and went like happiness and
worries. They swirled into a circle, connecting Cheng Qian’s body with the
world as if he had always been a part of it.

It was hard to say how long had passed when the cry of a crane sounded. A
white crane soared up into the sky from Fuyao Mountain and circled around
them. The sniveling Puddle who had gotten lost in the air followed the
crane and flew downwards through instinct. Led by the crane, she landed
before the Unknown Hall, Muchun’s residence.

Cheng Qian had still been in a trance when his feet touched the ground.

Muchun Zhenren helped Puddle out when she’d gotten stuck again in the
gate of the Unknown Hall. After he caressed her wings, the wings were
wrapped in some unknown power and eventually shrank into her body,
leaving a pair of red birthmarks on her back.

Muchun didn’t wake Cheng Qian up. He stood aside and waited, cuddling
the fast-asleep Puddle. When the sun set to the other side of the mountain,
Cheng Qian finally came back to himself, realizing that his legs had gone
numb from standing.

Muchun Zhenren took a windproof lantern off from the gate and gave it to
Cheng Qian to light his way back. “It’s too late today, you can go back.
Tomorrow you can stay to learn charms with your first senior brother after
the swordplay practice.”

Cheng Qian did a double-take when master said that. Surprised and
muddleheaded, he asked, “Master, was… Was that energy feel?”
Muchun Zhenren nodded, beaming. “I was right about you. Of all my
apprentices, your aptitude is the best.”

Was that “of all my apprentices” really necessary?

Cheng Qian didn’t know how to respond to this. Anyway, he didn’t feel
proud hearing his evaluation—if his excellent aptitude was the result of
comparing him with Yan Zhengming, Li Yun and Han Yuan, he didn’t think
this was something he could boast about.

Watching his figure walking steadily along the mountain path, Muchun
Zhenren had a bittersweet mood. After all these years, he finally had an
apprentice who was willing to make efforts. Stroking the crane’s graceful
neck, he said to himself, “If his martial brothers knew that, would they be
stimulated?”

The white crane rubbed him and flew away, as if telling the sect leader—
what are you wishfully dreaming about!?
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 22

The next day, the whole mountain of Fuyao shook with the news that Cheng
Qian was to stay and learn charms together with Yan Zhengming.

Cheng Qian’s martial brothers surrounded him, all asking the same
question: “What!? You can absorb qi already?”

Rubbing his ear, Cheng Qian felt a little smug. But before he let any
emotion creep onto his face, he recalled, suddenly, how he should act as
someone who followed the endless path of cultivation, and hurriedly threw
cold water on his thoughts to cool himself down.

He nodded in an indifferent and humble way, and said matter-of-factly,

“Mhm, sort of.”

His words elicited mixed reactions from his martial brothers.

Li Yun’s was the most normal.

Li Yun was not an unintelligent person, and considered himself quite clever.
Although a person who indulged in heretical tricks and even innovated
couldn’t possibly be stupid, he simply didn’t work hard at his studies
despite his swordplay only being passably good. Just when he stopped
playing with toads, he became fond of bugs.

Never had Li Yun thought that a junior brother who had entered the sect a
year after him would cross the threshold earlier than he did, so his face
showed a wretched expression. Li Yun silently put away his katydid cage…
as well as a bottle of worm wine with unknown uses. That day, after
finishing his swordplay practice, he went straight back to study rather than
fool around with Han Yuan.
This action pleased Muchun Zhenren. He knew that Li Yun would feel
terrible for a time, as anyone in his place would. But the sadness was only
fleeting; it was the impetus that Cheng Qian gave him which would endure.

Nevertheless, the Master’s satisfaction quickly dissolved when he

discovered that Li Yun was the only one who reacted “normally”.

For example, Han Yuan, who was undergoing torture by the detailed sect
rules, was entirely apathetic about it.

Ever since he returned from the one-day trip to Demon Valley, his desire for
energy feel had faded out. All he wanted now was to eat, drink and play.

“Energy feel? Why should I bother hurrying to learn it? Life is too short;
you only live once,” was his thought.

That was why Han Yuan didn’t feel a trace of envy upon seeing that Cheng
Qian, who had joined the sect alongside him, was already able to absorb qi.
Instead, Han Yuan gloated over the other boy. He patted Cheng Qian’s
shoulder while taking his leave, saying, “Haha, extra classes! Your hard
days are ahead of you!”

Therefore, Muchun threw Han Yuan out of the Mission Hall after picking
him up with the wooden sword.

And there was ‘the treasure of the sect’, his first apprentice. Seeing that
another table with a sandglass on top had been placed beside his, he sighed
with feeling. “I only acquired energy feel after four years’ worth of
swordplay practice… Has it only been a year since Little Copper Coin’s
initiation?”

Muchun Zhenren thought that young master Yan had been stimulated, and
would finally get his act together.

But beyond all expectations, that was only something Yan Zhengming
murmured randomly. At the moment, he smiled from ear to ear and said
with feigned affection, “Third Junior Brother, in the future we’ll be able to
‘consult’ each other for charms, just like we do for scriptures.”
“Two more milk cakes to get me to do your charms practices too? Senior
Brother, stop dreaming,” answered Cheng Qian with a fake smile.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Yah! This brat had only been treating him as a living key to the Library! But
now that Cheng Qian could enter there on his own, Yan Zhengming had
even lost this value to him!

Where was the dignity of the first senior brother?!

In the first class, Master gave Cheng Qian a burin for engraving and a
tablet. There were two lines on the top and bottom of the tablet which were
separated by a distance of one cun. What Cheng Qian had to do was carve a
one-cun-long vertical line on the tablet.

“You’ll feel some resistance at first,” said Master. “Don’t be afraid; just
take your time. It took a good half year for your first senior brother to do
so.”

Yan Zhengming hacked awkwardly, aware that he wasn’t a good example.

Not until the burin touched the tablet did Cheng Qian understand that
charms were never easily carved.

He had already noticed that the burin senior brother had used wasn’t
ordinary—it already had charms on it, specially made for beginners.

Cheng Qian had read from Introduction to Charms that a charm beginner
was incapable of connecting the charms with their own power, so they
needed an auxiliary tool to help guide them.

Obviously this tool wasn’t easy to get along with. The moment the tip of the
burin touched the wood, the object in his hand became like a huge
whirlpool, seeming to extract strength out from his body at a constant pace.

Startled, Cheng Qian’s hand which held the burin halted of its own accord.
After this brief pause, it couldn’t move any further on the wood.
Fixing his eyes on the tablet, Cheng Qian found that he had left behind only
a shallow notch, like a cat’s scratch.

Muchun didn’t tell Cheng Qian beforehand that the stroke couldn’t break or
stop. It must be carved in one smooth motion or all the previous efforts
would go down the drain. Seeing that Cheng Qian had already suffered a
setback, Muchun moved his feet and walked slowly over to point out his
mistake.

He liked using this method when teaching Yan Zhengming, as he believed

that a student’s hindsight after committing a mistake would give them a
more lasting impression.

But Muchun was an extremely slow teacher. Perhaps because he walked far
too slowly, by the time he shuffled over to Cheng Qian, the boy had already
tightened his grip around the burin and began his second attempt.

Once again, the burin frantically consumed his energy. Cheng Qian recited
Introduction to Charms silently in his heart as he roused his newly-acquired
energy feel, trying to make the spiritual energy around him sink into the
energy sea1 and flow along his arm to the burin.

Unfortunately, although Cheng Qian had grasped the concept, he had only
just crossed the threshold. Even if he absorbed qi into his body, the amount
he could gather was very limited and failed to keep pace with the amount
that the burin extracted from him.

The first things to feel amiss were his legs and feet. Cheng Qian felt like he
had walked a million miles on foot without rest. His feet started to numb,
and soon afterwards an excruciating ache assailed them. When that pain
became too much, it suddenly reverted back into such a profound numbness
that he finally could no longer feel his feet at all.

Next was his waist. If it hadn’t been for Cheng Qian’s other hand pressing
down on the desk, his torso would have collapsed because of the stinging
spasm in his back. His heart thumped wildly, his spine seemingly bent by
something invisible.
Finally, the head.

People often had hallucinations while suffering extreme exhaustion. Many a

time did Cheng Qian come close to losing his grip on the burin—even so,
when he looked down, he found there was still a half distance to go to reach
one cun.

Cheng Qian was a little dizzy, but that word did not do justice to what he
felt. Weariness permeated his entire body as if he had run twenty laps
around the Fuyao Mountain.

No wonder his first senior brother, who preferred the light and shirked the
heavy, would always scratch his head and seemed to be on tenterhooks
every time he had to do charms practice.

However, Cheng Qian never did anything “step by step”; he always

overachieved instead.

The harder it was, the more unyielding he became, and the further he went
to the extreme. The burin made shrill sounds, raking through the tablet. If
he went any further, Cheng Qian might even collapse. But, as always, he
gritted his teeth and went for it, and though he was at the end of his rope he
pushed the tool further down.

In a trance, he saw the illusion of his burin nearly reaching the finish line
when an adult’s hand firmly snatched his wrist.

The burin fell onto the desk with a clang. Cheng Qian’s hand gave out and
his muscles couldn’t resist shaking because they were too taut to relax right
away.

Muchun Zhenren held him with one arm and placed a hand at the middle of
Cheng Qian’s back, who blacked out. He could hardly bear clenching at
Master’s sleeve. Then he felt some warm current flow from his back to his
limbs, and everywhere it passed, those numb and rigid parts seemed to be
prickled again by numerous needles.
Cheng Qian broke out in a cold sweat. It felt like hundreds of ants nibbled
at his heart. He panted so hard from the pain that the wheezing gasps for air
became agonized coughs.

Patting his back worriedly, Muchun kept saying, “You, you…”

Yan Zhengming, who had been cutting his nails aside, looked at Cheng
Qian with mouth-opened incredulity.

“Copper Coin, you…” said Yan Zhengming, stunned.

But words failed him. He repeated “you” for several times and finally
uttered, “You… why are you so fierce?”

It took Cheng Qian a long while to come to. Muchun Zhenren let go of him
and pulled the tablet out of his hand, staring at the line with a complex
expression—the starting part was fairly smooth, from which it could be
referred that Cheng Qian had mastered the key by himself. But it could also
be seen that his strength soon weakened when the latter part began to curve,
and apparently, he had drained himself before reaching half a cun. The
notch was sometimes shallow and sometimes deep, but even when it looked
about to break, it never did. If Muchun hadn’t stopped him, Cheng Qian
definitely wouldn’t have let go until his life was consumed.

What a pig-headed child!

Frightened, Muchun Zhenren discovered that he’d nearly brought Cheng

Qian to disaster by treating him like Yan Zhengming.

Charms practice was actually boring and harsh in the beginning because
Muchun Zhenren wouldn’t teach his students how to carve anything useful.
For those who had just learned to absorb qi, Muchun Zhenren only allowed
them to be guided by the burin so that they could exercise and broaden their
channels2.

Broadening one’s channels wasn’t a pleasant experience. It meant depleting

the energy that had accumulated in one’s energy sea over and over again.
It was like stretching: regularly stretching every day would do you good,
but if you stretched too rashly then your muscle might break.

When young master Yan had just started, as soon as the tip of the burin
poked a hole in the wood he’d begin to cry that his hands, bottom, and
every part of his body ached as if he would soon be no more. But then he
vigorously threw a tantrum—no matter what, he absolutely refused to touch
charms again.

Muchun had no choice but to give step-by-step directions to him for two
months, and had barely taught him the rudiments.

Even now, when Muchun Zhenren asked his first apprentice to go back and
work on those practices, Yan Zhengming just played around with a fruit
knife to scratch the tablet—as though his master didn’t know.

Muchun Zhenren’s face fell. He scowled at Yan Zhengming and then said to
Cheng Qian, “You’ve been to the Library?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Muchun Zhenren took a seat on Cheng Qian’s desk and looked from close-
up at this cub who was still wet behind his ears. “What else did you read
besides Introduction to Charms?”

Cheng Qian dared not say a thing.

“Let me see, cultivation methods, swordplay, views of all schools, and

probably…” Cheng Qian’s head dropped lower as each word came out of
master’s mouth. Master walked around the desk and a word popped out,
“Diabolism?”

Cheng Qian’s heart gave a giant leap. “Master, I…”

Muchun Zhenren stared at Cheng Qian’s tiny hair whorl, waiting for him to
disavow or be scared to tears.
But this guy did neither. He stood there silently, and after a while said
quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“How are you sorry?” Muchun Zhenren didn’t believe in the slightest that
he was truly repentant.

Cheng Qian: “…”

As expected, he hadn’t meant it.

Yan Zhengming felt a little sorry for him. As the bond between Yan
Zhengming and his martial brothers grew stronger, he found he could
overlook the hateful parts of his third junior brother. Sometimes he still
suffered homicidal urges toward Cheng Qian, but would always forgive him
soon afterwards. He felt Cheng Qian was just a defensive and bad-tempered
wolf whelp. When angered he’d give you a bite, but upon taking a closer
look you’d find that he’d only just left shallow teeth marks on the skin. He
knew who treated him well and who didn’t; he pretended to be fierce but,
all in all, he usually took great care not to hurt anyone.

“Master, you can’t blame him. I took him into the Library. There’s no
entertainment on the mountain, so I wanted to get a few delightful books for
junior brother…” Yan Zhengming made excuses for him.

“Is Introduction to Charms included in those delightful books?”

“Maybe he just happened to catch a glimpse of it.”

“Zhengming, do you think of him as you?” Muchun Zhenren raised his

eyebrows.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

He was not sure whether master was scolding Cheng Qian or him.

Muchun Zhenren sighed. Looking at Cheng Qian who peered tentatively at

him, he felt that if he went on like this, he wouldn’t look like Zipeng
Zhenren’s father anymore—he’d look like her grandfather!
He beckoned to Cheng Qian and wiped the cold sweat off the boy’s
forehead with his sleeves; though it was his intention to put on a more
severe look, the end result was that he failed. He only looked a little cloudy.

“The seniors of our sect have walked 3000 paths, as is recorded in the
Library,” said Muchun Zhenren. “Have you been to second-to-last floor?
Definitely not, because you didn’t think there would be anything useful to
you. There, the records of the paths our seniors have walked, along with
their fates, are kept. I know you seek your own path[Tao]; I just hope you
don’t choose the hardest one.”

Cheng Qian only partly understood. But he felt the heaviness in his
Master’s words, so he nodded.

Both Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian received the punishment of copying
scriptures thirty times.

Poor first senior brother. The blame of his junior brothers’ mistakes seemed
to always fall on him.

1. energy sea: a part of body where qi(spiritual energy) is stored.

2. a part of body, channels through which vital energy circulates.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 23

Cheng Qian quickly ran off before Yan Zhengming could attempt to bribe
the boy into taking the punishment for him as well.

Back at Qing’an Dwelling, Cheng Qian copied the scriptures till midnight.
He only went out once for dinner after Xueqing called him, and stayed in
his study for the rest time. Only Xueqing could make him go out in
situations like these. One time, when Cheng Qian had brushed off
Xueqing’s request, the Taoist boy had decided to wait for him and had
ended up starving until past midnight. From that point on, no matter how
much he didn’t want to be disturbed, Cheng Qian never ignored him a
second time.

After finishing a long stretch of writing, Cheng Qian went to the Library
under the light of the moon and stars.

This was his first time opening the gate of the Library by himself, as well as
his first time walking in there with permission. Cheng Qian only lingered
for a short while around the section of sword, cultivation method and charm
books where he’d always stayed during his previous visits, before heading
downstairs to the second-to-the-last floor as he’d been told to do by his
master.

He was in fact good at agreeing on the surface but rebelling in the shadows.
However, he hated doing that to his master.

This floor was still a secluded place, though slightly better than the one
below it. Books were set out in a neat order, plainly rarely touched. Cheng
Qian randomly picked out several volumes. The front side of each page was
a portrait and the back side recorded this disciple’s life story—his name,
how he got accepted into the sect, his conduct, how he got into Tao, what
his Tao was, his rises and falls, when he joined the majority, and finally, the
assessment given by others after his death.

Some disciples went missing and some were expelled from the sect, thus no
follow-up stories were recorded for those.

Cheng Qian just read those stories leisurely in the beginning. But after a
while, he began to feel drowsy and soon drifted off to sleep, leaning against
the corner of the shelf. It was the sound of the book in his hands hitting the
ground that startled him awake, and the next thing he knew he was already
lying on the ground in a daze.

Though the Library was protected by damp-proof and moth-proof charms,

the lack of sunlight for years had given it a very bleak aura. The cold
ground made Cheng Qian shudder and at that moment, he caught sight of
something under the shelf.

The slit between the bottom shelf and the ground was very narrow; only
those with very slender arms could slip their hands inside and reach the
object. Cheng Qian had fallen to the temptation of rolling up his sleeve and
reaching his arm into the crevice, and after groping around he dragged
something out.

It was also a portrait, but it strangely seemed to have been cut into two
pieces with its lower half missing. Only the upper part of the man in the
portrait could be seen. He was wearing an old robe, but he didn’t look
shabby or miserable. Though the painter was unknown, the man’s graceful
bearing had been vividly brought into life with only a few strokes of ink.

Who… was this senior?

Cheng Qian turned the portrait over, but there was not a single character on
the back.

He didn’t know drawing very much, but from a layman’s perspective, he

thought the art was quite good. It didn’t seem to be a failed work… So why
wasn’t there even a single character on it?1
Cheng Qian was puzzled. But since it was hard for him to be interested in
the story of someone he didn’t know, he quickly lost interest, put away the
portrait, went upstairs where he picked out several books to read back in his
residence.

Time flew by. On the 6th day of 6th month of the lunar calendar, the master
and his apprentices concluded their mind-numbing routine classes and
marched down the mountain in a great procession.

Sure enough, the “great procession” was created single-handedly by the

first senior brother, Yan Zhengming.

This guy had prepared several large carriages: one for carrying him, and the
rest for carrying his luggage—which was essential for living in his eyes, yet
purely a pile of trash in others’.

Except for him, everyone else—including the sole girl, Puddle—only

carried a wooden sword and a traveling bag, though Cheng Qian also took
two bundles of books with him which he hung on his saddle.

Yet despite all that, young master Yan still complained incessantly. He
hadn’t left Fuyao Mountain for a whole seven years; the arduousness of the
journey was killing him.

Young master Yan didn’t think there was any problem with a man sitting in
a carriage alone in the daytime, but he felt sorry to see his master and junior
brothers and sister being exposed to the sun and wind. That was why he
popped his head out and said to his skinny master on the back of a skinny
horse, “Master, please get on the carriage with junior brothers; it’s too hot
outside.”

“My apprentice, you’re truly filial,” Muchun Zhenren sighed.

Ultimately this young man’s character had grown as he aged. Despite his
worsening narcissism, Yan Zhengming did become more sensible than
before—for instance, the young master Yan who never knew how to read
other people’s faces before had actually caught a hint of sarcasm in his
master’s words.
But in the end, Master refused his proposal. He just threw Puddle who had
been in the basket on his back into Yan Zhengming’s carriage, and let her
drool all over her first senior brother. Muchun Zhenren turned his head and
saw Cheng Qian. This third disciple of his still did not look like he had
recovered since the charms’ backfire on him with his pallid face.

Therefore Muchun insisted to him, “Get in your senior brother’s carriage

for a rest. Don’t pretend to be strong. You can read books inside.”

“Right. Little Copper Coin, come to play with junior sister. There’s enough
room for you two to roll about,” said Yan Zhengming.

Cheng Qian refused him without the least hesitation and didn’t forget to have a dig at him. “Senior
Brother, you’re being too modest. Look at this fleet of carriages—it could even match the wedding
procession of an imperial concubine.”2

This boy always took his good will ungratefully! Yan Zhengming furiously
pulled down the curtain, not wanting to see that little bastard again.

Cheng Qian remembered that master had said first senior brother got into
Tao through swordsmanship, and such cultivators mostly had a strong will
—except a few eccentrics like Yan Zhengming.

But he himself was different. Master said he got into Tao through heart.

What was “got into Tao through heart”?

This question had been plaguing Cheng Qian’s head. He’d spent a few days
in the Library, yet still was not very clear about what the “heart” referred to.
With various opinions being widely divided, he didn’t know which to trust.
But all those divergent views had mentioned the same point: “those who got
into Tao through swordsmanship exercise their physique; those who got
into Tao through heart exercise their mentality.”

To exercise mentality was to temper one’s willpower. Concentration,

fortitude, pain, stamina and so on, were all included. If his willpower was
strong enough, a cultivator could follow his heart’s desire without
deviating. Since Cheng Qian had just crossed the threshold, the most basic
way he could find to exercise his mentality was to mortify himself.

Therefore, he had already decided to consider this sweltering journey as a

way to practice asceticism.

After three days’ travel, the master and his apprentices arrived at the shore
of the East Sea.

Nearby was a small town named Dragon-Taming Town where there were
many shops selling all kinds of magic tools, may they be real or fake. In
fine weather, one could see celestial mountains peeking in the distance
when standing at the seaport. This town was thronged with tourists from all
over the country whatever the season.

But never had it been as bustling as it was this year.

By the time they arrived in town, all inns and hotels had been filled to
capacity. Yan Zhengming suggested sending a Taoist child to ask around
about the most expensive hotel in the area, planning to book several deluxe
rooms whatever the price.

Master turned a deaf ear to his lousy idea.

The old weasel knew the way well. He led them nonstop to the southeast
outskirt of Dragon-Taming Town, toward a row of thatched cottages.

Aesthetically, the architectural style of those shacks was similar to that of a

stable. Several chickens idled around the door, and next to the cottages was
a pigsty built with stones where a fat pig was staring curiously at young
master Yan’s ostentatious fleet of carriages.

Yan Zhengming pushed open the carriage door, scanned the environment
with an unpleasant frown and reached his arm to poke Cheng Qian. “What
the heck is this place? An outhouse?”

By now, he had forgotten that he’d just been irritated by Cheng Qian.
Obviously, Yan Zhengming wasn’t the sort of narrow-minded person who
bore a grudge. Perhaps his main occupation was to wallow in his own
beauty in every possible way.

Cheng Qian gave him a sympathetic look, saying, “I just saw Master go
knock on the door—I’m afraid this is where we’re going to put up tonight.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

He’d rather sleep in the carriage.

Nothing was more depressing than traveling for him. After a long time, the
indignant Yan Zhengming thought of his responsibility as first senior
brother. He gazed around and grumbled at Li Yun, “Where’s Underbite?”

Since the day Li Yun was motivated by Cheng Qian, he’d shied away from
hankering for fun and games. He had followed Cheng Qian’s example of
holding a book all the time while on horseback during the whole trip and
even upon hearing that question, pointed somewhere without looking up. In
the direction he pointed to stood a big wolfberry tree at the door of a
cottage, and from the gap of the leafy branches popped a funny head.

Han Yuan shouted to his senior brothers who were wearing different
expressions, “Looking for me? I’m picking wolfberries for you. There’re so
many and they’re so sweet!”

This idiot…

Yan Zhengming flung the carriage door shut with the determination that
he’d rather die than get off the carriage. Nevertheless, he got off in the end
—because his junior sister, who wasn’t yet able to communicate with
others, had peed in his carriage due to the long journey.

Because of that, Yan Zhengming’s face remained dark until midnight.

The group of thatched cottages had a name which described themselves

very accurately: “Shabby Inn”.

There was a line of characters on each side of the door. On the left it said,
“Three coins per night,” and on the right, “Stay or piss off.” A fierce-
looking monster was drawn on the door. There wasn’t even a servant to
welcome the guests. That was how they ran an inn?

The shopkeeper didn’t show up until master had knocked at the door for a
short while. It was a burly man who was more than eight Chi high, who
looked exactly like a small mountain—his height and his waist had
practically the same measurements!

With his hair and beard sticking up, his face looking like a bronze basin,
and his thick lips curled downwards, he was the spitting image of a debt-
collecting scoundrel.

Li Yun’s horse was frightened by his appearance. It neighed and trotted

backwards a distance of one Zhang, nearly hitting Yan Zhengming’s
carriage with panic written all over its face.

The master, however, amiably cupped a fist in his hand in front of his chest
and smiled. “Brother Wen Ya, long time no see.”

The apprentices’ and Taoist children’s mouths all fell open, feeling that they
couldn’t face the two characters “Wen(tender)” and “Ya(elegant)” anymore.

The “iron tower” had looked irritated when opening the door, but when he
realized that the visitor was Muchun Zhenren, his countenance eased up a
little. He mumbled, “Xiao-Chun? Why are you here?”

This form of address gave Cheng Qian a big shock, and he nearly fell off
his horse, his skin crawling.

“Come in.” Wen Ya glanced at young master Yan’s impressive procession

and scowled slightly. “Are you escorting a bride to the groom’s home?”

Li Yun, Cheng Qian and Han Yuan simultaneously looked at Yan

Zhengming, sniggering. But the latter only took out his new sword and with
an evil grin, whipped Li Yun’s timid horse across its bottom. The poor
creature lifted its front legs and leapt forward hysterically, making the pig
snort and startling the chickens in front of the door until they flew about,
before setting off on a gallop.
Yan Zhengming then swaggered into the shabbiest cottage he had ever
stepped foot in with a hopeless sadness in his heart.

1. Traditional Chinese drawings usually have inscriptions on them.

2. It is a ritual for traditional marriage in China that the bride will be
escorted on a sedan form her parents’ home to the groom’s by a
wedding procession.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 24

That day, young master Yan didn’t even come out of his room to take his
meals—if those meals could even be called human food.

He sullenly grabbed some desserts, and struggled to fall asleep in the

evening.

Though the Taoist children had cleaned his room many times, Yan
Zhengming still thought that the quilt stank and that the hard bed was
uncomfortable. The room was muggy and suffocating, and no matter which
incense Yan Zhengming burnt it couldn’t drive away his sullenness.

In short, this damnably shabby place made young master Yan question his
entire life. No longer able to contain himself, he rose up from the bed,
preparing to bother his master on the principle that if he was unhappy, he’d
make other people unhappy too.

Leaving the Taoist children behind, Yan Zhengming stormed around the inn
like a headless chicken.

Because the inn was too shabby and the shopkeeper looked like a bandit,
nobody other than them had put up in this inn. As he passed by the empty
yard and the many vacant thatched cottages which looked like haunted
houses, Yan Zhengming found his poor master in the innermost one.

But after spotting Muchun Zhenren sitting with the shopkeeper, Wen Ya, he
didn’t rush forward.

It was one thing to trouble master when he was alone, but Yan Zhengming
didn’t want to humiliate him in other people’s presence.
However, as Yan Zhengming had gone through the trouble of finding him,
he was unwilling to just go back. Young Master Yan dithered for a while
before he reached into his pocket and took out a cicada’s wing.

Needless to say, this thing was made by Li Yun. There were five holes on
the cicada’s wing so that after threading a line through the holes it could be
worn on the neck. To a certain degree, this wing could impede other
people’s senses so as to conceal the user’s existence.

Yet surely just what sophisticated toys was Li Yun capable of making?
There was a limit to the wing’s function. It would have an assured effect if
the wearer were standing far enough and was sufficiently careful, but
functions like vanishing the wearer or making the wearer completely
invisible were impracticable.

After rebuking Han Yuan for using it to steal a bird’s eggs,Yan Zhengming
had taken this convenient tool for his own.

Yan Zhengming rounded to the other side of the cottage and climbed over
the fence of the broken yard. He hid behind the cottage, waiting to jump in
and argue with his master as soon as Wen Ya left.

Yan Zhengming had maintained his swordplay practice all year round, so he
was more dextrous than a normal person despite not working all that hard.
And under the cover of the cicada’s wing, he successfully managed to not
disturb the two Taoists.

Yan Zhengming found a place to sit down so that he could wait for his
master to send the guest away, and so that Yan Zhengming could finally
complain to him.

Right at this moment, their conversation travelled into Yan Zhengming’s

ears.

Wen Ya said, “I had a vision last year. I was wondering what it was about,
and now you tell me it’s the Heavenly Monster. The birth of the Heavenly
Monster, the rage of the Monster King, and the rebellion of those monsters
—they must have resulted in a bloodbath in the Demon Valley. If HE had
failed to put down the revolt and take the egg out… A Heavenly Monster
born in blood… Tsk, it would have been more than a disaster for only
Fuyao Mountain—speaking of which, where’s the Heavenly Monster? Did
it hatch?”

Muchun Zhenren calmly answered, “It hatched and it’s right here in your
inn. I’ll have to see her in a moment, lest she piss on your bed.”

Wen Ya: “…”

Presently Muchun Zhenren spoke again in a sterner voice when Wen Ya

was distracted. Yan Zhengming could even hear that his volume lowered.
“Do you know who that demonic cultivator with the title of Beiming was?
And what connection did he have with our sect? Why was he willing to
save our sect at the cost of one of his spiritual souls?”

Wen Ya: “Didn’t he tell you?”

Muchun Zhenren sighed. “Even though he is a strong demonic cultivator,

sacrificing one’s soul would inflict serious damage on anyone. I haven’t
seen him since that day.”

Hearing that, Wen Ya pondered before he said, “He asked me to hand

THAT over to you and claimed to be a deserted disciple of Fuyao Sect. I
thought you knew him.”

Muchun Zhenren said, “There have been many betrayers since the
establishment of our sect. I even know the backgrounds of two lord
Beimings, and there are yet many others who have kept their identities
hidden… After all these years, how could I know who he is?”

“He hasn’t shown ill intentions, at least,” said Wenya. “It’d be better for
you to think about how to deal with your old friend rather than worrying
about a fragmented soul.”

Wen Ya deliberately lowered his voice on “old friend”, which sounded

gloomy and deep with a strong foreboding, the sound conveying this big
man’s fear.
Yan Zhengming was shocked.

Old friend?

When Muchun Zhenren remained silent for what seemed like ages, Yan
Zhengming unconsciously straightened and craned his neck closer.

Finally, Master spoke.

“Brother Wen Ya,” said Muchun Zhenren calmly. “If I… please take care of
these kids for me.”

Wait, what did that mean?

Yan Zhengming had spent all the intelligence he’d gained from the last
sixteen years on this moment. He even forgot he was eavesdropping. His
mind was racing with bated breath.

Wen Ya laughed mockingly. But Yan Zhengming didn’t know who exactly
he was mocking.

“Come on. I’m just a nobody; how can I shoulder such a responsibility?”
said Wen Ya. “What a place your Fuyao Mountain is! There’s always an
evil cultivator in every generation. How could a nonentity like me take
control of it? And also, haven’t you got a blockhead who was willing to
carve charms onto his own soul to defuse the disaster for you? You may as
well ask him for help,” said Wen Ya.

Muchun Zhenren knew what he meant, so he switched the subject tactfully.

They started chit-chatting faux-sprightly. The two middle-aged men spouted

off like a gushing river about all the trifling stories in the cultivation world
from the past 500 years.

When numbness struck Yan Zhengming’s legs, he was sure that he couldn’t
obtain any more useful information. He only then cautiously stood up and
slipped away.
In the hot June which seemed like a heated stove, his palms were all cold
and sweaty.

Yan Zhengming left his master’s cottage and went straight to Cheng Qian’s
place. It was already late in the night and Cheng Qian had already gone to
bed. But now he was forcibly pulled out of his quilt by Yan Zhengming.

Being woken up from sleep for no reason, Cheng Qian glowered at Yan
Zhengming, thinking of picking a fight with him.

Yan Zhengming, however, didn’t look at him at all. He picked up the

clothes at the side of the bed and threw them at Cheng Qian’s face,
solemnly ordering him, “Put on your clothes and come with me.”

His forehead knotting with a frown, Yan Zhengming paced around Cheng
Qian’s room anxiously. He was so distracted that he neither noticed that the
clothes at Cheng Qian’s bedside had already been worn by him today, nor
found fault with the pickle-like wrinkles on Cheng Qian’s belt. He just kept
urging Cheng Qian with a heavy heart.

From this detail, Cheng Qian determined that Yan Zhengming had
something to say—something that, in Yan Zhengming’s eyes at least, was
serious. He hastily put on an outer robe but before he could comb his hair,
Yan Zhengming dragged him away towards Li Yun’s and Han Yuan’s places
with his hair still in disarray.

However, they didn’t find Han Yuan. Ever since they gone down the
mountain, that boy had been running around like a wild horse. At this
moment, he was probably strolling somewhere around town.

Li Yun was still awake and working hard under the light of an oil lamp.
Seeing the two coming together, he was quite surprised. But when his eyes
fell upon the cicada’s wing on Yan Zhengming’s neck, he asked with a little
doubt, “First Senior Brother… have you just eavesdropped?”

Yan Zhengming gave up looking for Han Yuan. He sat down in Li Yun’s
room and absentmindedly told his junior brothers what he had just heard
from Master while repeatedly wiping a porcelain teacup from the inside to
the outside.

Cheng Qian exchanged a glance with Li Yun, took the porcelain teacup
whose glaze was almost wiped out by Yan Zhengming, and poured a cup of
cold tea which seemed to have been in the teapot for days. Yan Zhengming
unconsciously picked it up and drank from it.

Frowning, Li Yun asked, “First Senior Brother, is it that… you know the
‘old friend’?”

Li Yun actually had a subtle mind; he was just too fond of heretical tricks,
and lacked concentration. After contemplating the tea in the cup for a while,
Yan Zhengming nodded. “Yes.”

“As I thought, it must be a demonic cultivator,” said Cheng Qian

confirmed.

Yan Zhengming: “How do you know that?”

In fact, Cheng Qian had already thought it was strange—after listening to

Master several more times while reading scriptures, he noticed that even
though Master often talked nonsense, and even though contradictions
existed in the different schools’ scriptures, one concept that ran through
every theory was that “the great Tao is shapeless and conforms to the course
of nature.”

Since it is shapeless, there is no right or wrong to it. All creatures reach the
same goal by different routes. After his initiation, Cheng Qian had never
heard any bad words about demonic or monster cultivators from his master.

Instead, it was the good-for-nothing first senior brother who bitterly

abhorred them.

Cheng Qian: “When second senior brother talked about demonic cultivators
last year in the Demon Valley, you shouted him down. That’s when I started
to I feel that… first senior brother seemed to particularly ostracize
Diabolism.”
Yan Zhengming waved his hand. “I was just afraid that he would misguide
you.”

“Oh. Seems like you’re not afraid you’ll misguide us by sleeping in every
morning class,” said Cheng Qian without blinking an eye.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

This bastard did have a sharp tongue!

Yan Zhengming rolled his eyes at Cheng Qian. After a period of silence, he
said slowly, “I probably didn’t tell you how I met master. When I was 7 or 8
years old, I had thrown a tantrum because of some matter which I don’t
remember now. I was very angry back then so I ran away, and after leaving
my retainers’ sight, I was abducted.”

As the saying goes, as the boy is, so is the man. That was definitely
something first senior brother would have done.

“It was a man that abducted me, a pretty handsome man. But he looked like
he was desperately sick with a dead atmosphere,” said Yan Zhengming as
he recalled. “He took us to a deserted Taoist temple.”

Cheng Qian blinked his eyes. “Us?”

“Us,” Yan Zhengming said. “There were 4 or 5 kids that were nearly the
same age as me, but only one girl, the rest were all boys. That man was a
demonic cultivator. I saw him seize the girl by her neck and pull out her
three spiritual souls and seven corporal souls from her forehead instead of
killing her directly. What was surprising was, after all that, the girl was still
breathing and her heart was jumping even though her body was just an
empty container. She struggled at death’s door for seven or eight days
before she finally died. That was… my first time seeing someone die.”

That Yan Zhengming could still look back on every detail of that memory
after nearly ten years proved how deeply it had been imprinted in his mind.

Li Yun was flabbergasted. “Why would that demonic cultivator kill kids?”
“He tossed the girl’s souls into a lamp with stinky kerosene. The flame
flared up and never died out. Next it came to our turn. But he didn’t kill us
directly either. He took blood from us every day and poured it into the
kerosene. Except for the feeling of wanting to throw up, we didn’t feel
anything terrible at first. But young children don’t have a lot of blood. Just a
few days later, some kids couldn’t hold out and died.”

As Yan Zhengming retold the account, Cheng Qian found it more and more
familiar to the ear. He blurted out, “Is that a Soul-Consuming Lamp…”

Li Yun: “What?”

Yan Zhengming suddenly changed into a serious look. “How do you know
that?”

Cheng Qian: “I’ve read about it in the Library. Soul-Consuming Lamp

could refine souls. The lowest class uses girl’s souls as a wick and uses
refined corpse oil with boy’s blood as kerosene. After being burnt for 49
days, the girl’s souls would be refined into a ghost shadow. This is a certain
type of diabolism called ghostism.”

Yan Zhengming shot his hand out and gripped Cheng Qian’s wrist. Stern in
both voice and countenance, he said, “Cheng Qian, I opened the gate just
for you to see how to bleed others and refine their souls!?”

That didn’t terrify Cheng Qian. He said with perfect assurance, “It’s not
forbidden by master anyway. There are numerous different kinds of
diabolism, I just browsed over a few.”

“Enough.” Li Yun was very clever. Seeing that they had strayed off topic,
he immediately pulled the conversation back to its path. “First Senior
Brother, please continue. What happened to the homicidal demonic
cultivator later? Did master save you, and so you became his apprentice?”

Yan Zhengming shot a fierce stare at Cheng Qian. “Master did save me, but
that’s not the point…”
On that point, Yan Zhengming involuntarily paused. “Master is acquainted
with that demonic cultivator. I heard Master address him as ‘Senior
Brother’.”
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 25

Yan Zhengming’s words stunned Li Yun and Cheng Qian. Li Yun hesitantly
asked, “So… he’s our martial uncle?”

Upon the utterance of his words, Li Yun felt like he was possessed by Han
Yuan, and promptly kneaded his forehead in regret.

“Of course not, did the sect rules all go down your stomach? Once you’ve
stepped onto the path of malevolent Taos like ghostism or slaughterism, you
shall be expelled from the sect and never be allowed to return,” said Yan
Zhengming sternly.

Silence filled the room.

Cheng Qian pulled himself back after a minute or two and murmured, “That
means… the old friend is probably…”

He paused involuntarily, seemingly not sure how to address the person. He

thought a good while before it came to him. “Err, former martial uncle.”

“Who else could that be?” said Yan Zhengming impatiently. “Fuyao
Mountain isn’t the supreme headquarters of demonic cultivators.”

“First Senior Brother, what’s your opinion on this? Shall we just go ask
master tomorrow?” Inquired Li Yun tentatively.

Yan Zhengming shook his head. Despite Master’s talkativeness, most of

what he said was rubbish. When it came to something serious, he’d be like
an oyster with his mouth zipped tight. Yan Zhengming definitely didn’t
believe that they could pry something out of him. He deliberated for a while
and said with a glimmer of hope, “Is there a way… that can let us find
master’s whereabouts when he tries to throw us off?”
Cheng Qian had hung around the Library all day long. After he heard what
Yan Zhengming said, a big heap of strategies came flooding into his head.
But he rejected them one by one and at last, he found that the chances were
near impossible—for them to track their master, the first condition was that
one of them had to be more powerful than their master.

“I think it’s hopeless,” Cheng Qian said. “Unless second senior brother
could get another toad and make master carry the smell of Toad Liquid on
his body—but I’m afraid that second senior brother’s toad would fake death
again upon meeting a strong demonic cultivator.”

“Don’t look at me; I have no idea,” Li Yun shrugged. “Once confronted

with a formidable enemy, any creature with intelligence would be terrified.
The ones that aren’t are too dumb to be utilized to track people.”

“Must have intelligence and won’t be terrified…” Yan Zhengming

pondered over Li Yun’s words. “Hey, what do you think of Puddle?”

Cheng Qian rolled his eyes—neither did he believe that his junior sister had
intelligence nor did he think that she wouldn’t be terrified. But the next
second he suddenly got what Yan Zhengming meant. Though they didn’t
have the ability to track their master, they could try to do something to their
junior sister.

Since master always took the kid with him and she couldn’t understand
human language yet, it definitely wouldn’t be found out.

After some discussion, the three got a batten and whittled it down to a slim
piece. The well-read Cheng Qian provided the idea and Yan Zhengming
was in charge of the manual operation, thus they got off to the rocky start of
carving the tracking charm.

This tracking charm was very primary because Cheng Qian hadn’t read to
the advanced part. But even so, first senior brother’s skills were so
unexpectedly bad that he failed again and again.

Yan Zhengming shook his aching hand, feeling that he’d never been so
diligent even in formal charm classes. He couldn’t help but vent his anger
on Cheng Qian.

“What the fuck is this crap? Should I really rely on your memory?” seethed
Yan Zhengming, staring at Cheng Qian.

He who couldn’t shit blames the latrine pit1—Cheng Qian swallowed back
this vulgar sentence and stuffed it into his eyes, looking first senior brother
up and down with an explicitly disdainful gaze.

With Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian quarrelling and Li Yun desperately
trying to make peace, they finally finished carving the batten by midnight.

Yan Zhengming handed the baton to the yawning Li Yun. “I’ll leave this all
to you from here. You try to attach this to her. Can’t believe I stayed up so
late with you guys because of this goddamn thing.”

Who the heck was to blame? This was really a case of “the thief cries the
thief.”

Cheng Qian was so sleepy that he felt lopsided. Leaving behind the
”Niangniang”2, Cheng Qian doddered towards his own room. But when he
just got to the door and was about to enter, he was called by Yan
Zhengming who caught up.

“Wait, Xiao-Qian. I have a few words for you.”

Yan Zhengming’s height was growing fast this year as if he’d eaten some
fertilizer, his voice gradually deepened, and he no longer sounded clear and
melodious like a teenager. As long as he himself didn’t bluster loudly, he’d
sound like a real mature man.

Cheng Qian had seldom heard his voice so solemn. He turned around,
looking at Yan Zhengming puzzledly.

The young man stood straight behind him, drenched in the moonlight. His
restlessness and willfulness seemed to be reduced by and melted into the
dark. For this moment, Yan Zhengming didn’t look like himself.
There was a minute of hesitation before he said, “I left something out just
now. In fact… I heard another sentence from Wen Ya.”

Cheng Qian frowned.

“He said that Fuyao Mountain was beautiful and bred talents, there would
always be a devil in every generation…” Yan Zhengming’s voice faded out.
He regarded Cheng Qian for a fraction of a second, feeling that this boy was
like a fragile bamboo which appeared to easily break off, but was actually
cold and hard. Nobody could tell how many difficult feelings he’d hidden in
his heart. Yan Zhengming dropped his head a bit, whispering softly, “You
know where your limit is, don’t you?”

Hearing that, Cheng Qian didn’t dig at him. He didn’t talk back either. He
could hear the sincere care in Yan Zhengming’s words. Whether it was
senior brother’s groundless fear or not, he had this feeling that Yan
Zhengming said that just for Cheng Qian’s own sake. As first senior brother
was always slothful and pampered, most of the time his junior brothers just
gave in to him, thus Cheng Qian rarely found a sense of senior brotherness
in him.

Until this moment.

Cheng Qian replied with a silent nod.

Yan Zhengming let out a relieving breath. He reached out his hand, placed it
on the back of Cheng Qian’s head, and gently pushed him into the cottage.

“That’ll be the best,” said Yan Zhengming softly. Then he returned to his
old self and pointing at Cheng Qian’s creased clothes, he said, “Get your
clothes changed tomorrow. Don’t you think they resemble cleaning rags?”

Cheng Qian probably didn’t agree with him—his answer was a slam of the
door, which blocked Yan Zhengming outside.

This night was indeed eventful. Sending Yan Zhengming away, Cheng Qian
threw himself onto the bed but was woken again when he had just fallen
asleep.
Compared to first senior brother who just kicked the door open and pulled
him out of the quilt, Han Yuan was more of a nuisance—he stealthily
knocked at the window lattice like a woodpecker pecking a tree, which
made Cheng Qian terribly perturbed upon waking up.

Even when on the horseback, Cheng Qian didn’t drop his charm practices.
These days, he’d suffered from the pain of growing and broadening his
channels as well, which resulted in bad sleep quality. Being woken up twice
tonight, Cheng Qian fruitlessly wished to kill the noise maker with a knife.

Han Yuan didn’t walk in through the front door. Under Cheng Qian’s
expressionless gaze, he crawled in through the window and slumped down
on Cheng Qian’s bed, whispering, “Guess what I saw just now?”

Cheng Qian didn’t want to guess. He fell back into his bed, face upward,
and tucked himself into the quilt without saying a word.

“Hey, don’t sleep. Get up! I’ll show you something rare,” Han Yuan threw
himself upon Cheng Qian and pulled his quilt with both hands. “You’ve
definitely not seen it before. Xiao-Qian? Xiao-Qian!”

Cheng Qian doggedly refused to stick his head out and shouted to Han Yuan
from underneath the quilt, “Go find Niangniang!”

Han Yuan was shocked. “You must be joking. I dare not. He’s bound to
throw me into the censer.”

“Then go find Li Yun!” Cheng Qian rolled to the other side of the bed.

“I did,” said Han Yuan, complaining. “I almost set off firecrackers by his
ears, but he just wouldn’t wake up.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

So he was the easiest to wake up and least likely to get angered!?

Han Yuan successfully pulled the quilt off Cheng Qian. Ignoring his
restrained anger, he whispered into his ear, “Have you seen a ghost before?”
Cheng Qian was about to kick him down when he heard this sentence. His
knitted eyebrows suddenly twitched. “What?”

A few moments later, Cheng Qian slipped out of the Shabby Inn with Han
Yuan.

“There’s a fair in the town recently, so I hung out a little late,” said Han
Yuan as they moved. “I took a shortcut on the way back—this way, mind
your steps.”

Cheng Qian followed Han Yuan disorientedly. He gingerly avoided the mud
on the road, unable to understand how Han Yuan got familiar with the
environment in such a short time. Could it be a special talent of beggars
who travelled extensively? Han Yuan was leading him to somewhere more
out-of-the-way. Cheng Qian carried his wooden sword with one hand and
gripped the burin which he used to practice charms with the other hand,
leaving marks along the way by making small piles of stones, because he
didn’t completely trust Han Yuan.

In the cold wind, Cheng Qian’s muddled brain was beginning to clear. He
only then realized that he was influenced by first senior brother’s words
about ghostism that he subconsciously followed Han Yuan out upon hearing
the word “ghost”.

Getting out to see a ghost with a little beggar, that was…

Cheng Qian wondered if he had been infected by Han Yuan with some
stupid disease.

All of a sudden, Cheng Qian shivered from head to toe.

Han Yuan led him to a river. He didn’t have the energy feel, so he only
thought the shore was cold because of the late night dew.

But Cheng Qian already felt something abnormal about this chill as he had
smelled a trace of an ominous stench in the air.

Cheng Qian gave a start. The last bit of drowsiness vanished.

“There can’t be real danger,” Cheng Qian calmly thought to himself,
picking the leaf that had fallen on his shoulder and holding it in hand. “Or
how could Han Yuan run back just now?”

Han Yuan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hey, where are
you? I brought my little senior brother. Come out.”

Cheng Qian rose to cover Han Yua’s mouth right away. He asked gnashing
his teeth, “What did you do?”

Han Yuan: “Umm… ummm…”

Mouth muffled, Han Yuan made eyes at something behind Cheng Qian.
Cheng Qian looked back and his breath almost stopped.

A phosphorescent light had appeared behind him when he didn’t notice, and
a male ghost with a pale face was standing there, his eyes dull and remote.

Cheng Qian swiftly pulled Han Yuan behind him. “Who’s there?”

Han Yuan finally struggled free of Cheng Qian’s hand. He patted Cheng
Qian’s shoulder carelessly, saying, “It’s OK, don’t be afraid. I was also
startled by him at first. But I soon found him stagnant and quite
interesting.”

With that, he bent to pick up a small stone and tossed it before Cheng Qian
could stop him. That stone flew straight through the ghost’s body and
bounced twice on the ground. The male ghost looked down at the stone
blankly as though he was sleepwalking.

Han Yuan said to Cheng Qian smiling broadly, “See?”

Cheng Qian only wanted to give him a slap in the face—when the stone
went through the ghost’s body, he clearly sensed that smell. It was like stink
but mixed with some disgusting bloody smell.

Corpse oil and boy’s blood…

At the moment Cheng Qian had no time to consider why the ghost would
have let Han Yuan go just now. He only had one question, what luck had
this little beggar got?

Last time he went to the Demon Valley, he encountered the rebellion of

monsters; now on his night walk, he even met a demonic cultivator of
ghostism!

1. The Chinese version of ‘a bad workman always blames his tools.’

2. Niangniang(娘娘)is a term used to address an imperial concubine.
This would be a nickname used by Cheng Qian to call Yan
Zhengming.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 26

In this urgent moment, there seemed to be a complete copy of Introduction

to Charms in Cheng Qian’s mind. He quickly browsed through it from the
first page to the last one. Suddenly, a small charm popped into his mind—
the last chapter had mentioned that charms carved on leaves required much
less energy than ones carved on wood, but most of them could only be used
once

And it had presented two examples. One was for illumination and the
other… what was the use of the other one?

Cheng Qian bit his own tongue fiercely. Then he remembered that he didn’t
finish reading the book so he didn’t know the use of the second charm yet.

But now he was left no time to care so anymore. Cheng Qian put his hands
behind him without looking away from the ghost.

As soon as the burin in his hand touched the leaf, Cheng Qian realized that
he was in over his head. Even though it was just a leaf, to him, it was as
good as a baby, who hadn’t learned to walk, being forced to run.

Don’t break… don’t stop… please…

Cheng Qian’s face whitened at a noticeable pace. He felt his energy being
sponged up by the burin and became as pale as a mummy. The leaf was
killing him. But this was the only chance for him and Han Yuan.

Perhaps the crisis had inspired his potential; Cheng Qian finished his first-
ever charm in his life without a hitch. At that instant, a mystical power was
passed on to him through the leaf. But he wasn’t in the mood to thoroughly
examine it.
Cheng Qian swayed and almost fell to the ground. The channels all over his
body were aching as though he was stabbed by needles.

Han Yuan caught hold of Cheng Qian’s arm. “Xiao-Qian, what’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian took two deep breaths and shook Han Yuan off. “Go back and
ask master for help.”

Han Yuan was stunned. “What?”

Cheng Qian: “Go!”

Suddenly, the male ghost started slowly advancing. Cheng Qian pinched the
leaf with his fingers and held it in front of his chest. He demanded, “Stop!”

That leaf gave off a faint light. As this was the first time Cheng Qian carved
a complete charm, he didn’t know if he did it in the proper way. The charm
seemed to be incomplete—only half of it was glittering.

The ghost’s eyes fell on the leaf. Temporarily his countenance seemingly
brightened a bit, his lifeless eyeballs moved, and his pale and chapped lips
moved. Then he said in a barely audible voice, “Heart… Heart-Purifying
Charm…”

Cheng Qian’s feet gave out and he nearly crumpled.

He shouldn’t have taken the chance. How could a rudimentary charm

carved on a leaf have any extraordinary effect?

Cheng Qian regretted that he didn’t use the illuminating charm; perhaps that
would be more useful.

Contemplating the Heart-Purifying Charm, the ghost took another step

forward. There was no more room left for Cheng Qian to retreat. He was
forced to take up his wooden sword, his cold sweat soaking his robe.
Although his hand was shaking uncontrollably due to fatigue, the tip of the
sword was aimed firmly at the ghost.
The ghost gradually went back to consciousness. He stammered, “I… I am
not… a bad person, kid…”

It seemed to have been ages since the ghost last spoke. His incoherent
words made him sound somewhat miserable; however, Cheng Qian wasn’t
a person who’d easily pity others. He wasn’t shaken by the ghost’s words
and shouted to Han Yuan behind him, “I said scram! Go find master! Don’t
hold me back here!”

Han Yuan was completely lost. Looking at his little senior brother who was
trying to be brave, he said, “Xiao-Qian, he said he wasn’t…”

No longer able to contain himself, Cheng Qian exclaimed, “Shut up! You
ignorant idiot! He’s a demonic cultivator who practices ghostism!”

The words “demonic cultivator” scared Han Yuan successfully. He was

immobilized for a few seconds. His shock stretched across his face before it
went pale and then finally exuded undisguised panic and fright. He
screamed, turned, and ran away.

Cheng Qian straightened his back with mixed feelings—with Han Yuan
here, he was restless; but as he ran off, Cheng Qian’s heart turned cold and
hurt as if it had been pierced by an icicle.

But before he could repress these mixed feelings, he heard tottering

footfalls from behind. Cheng Qian turned and saw the little beggar running
back.

Han Yuan not only ran back but also carried a huge stone with him. He held
the stone overhead, making a face as though he was going to throw the
stone on the ghost’s head. He stared at the ghost in anger and interrogated
him, “You… you’re a demonic cultivator?”

Cheng Qian went speechless—how could a stone help? Did you ever hear
of any ghost being hit to death by a stone?

“I’m not a demonic cultivator.” Right at the moment, the ghost spoke. He
said, “I-I’m just a ghost shadow…”
“Ghost shadow” was a soul that was extracted from a person and refined in
a Soul-Consuming Lamp. When a ghost shadow was created, it would lose
all of their mental abilities and be at the disposal of the demonic cultivator
who created them.

“I… I escaped. I’m not a demonic cultivator.” The ghost was becoming
more and more fluent. He looked at Cheng Qian and politely said, “Little
boy, could I have that Heart-Purifying Charm?”

“Bullshit. Ghost shadows are all young girls, are you a young girl?” Cheng
Qian sneered.

This ghost just looked like a girl’s father!

The ghost’s gaze switched from the Heart-Purifying Charm to the wooden
sword in Cheng Qian’s hand. He went silent for a good while with a blank
look on his face, as though he was looking back. After a while, he uttered,
“Wooden sword… you’re a disciple of Fuyao Sect. No wonder at such a
young age you can… you don’t know, that the first-class ghost shadows are
cultivators’ primordial spirits, inferior ones are cultivators’ souls, and
thirdly non-cultivator young girls’ souls. It’s just that young girls’ souls are
the most accessible and the easiest to refine.”

“So what are you?” Han Yuan asked.

The ghost looked a little pained. He said softly, “A primordial spirit.”

Finishing that, he saw weariness and disbelief emerging on Cheng Qian’s

face. So he bent and picked up the small stone that Han Yuan had tossed at
him.

Cheng Qian’s pupils contracted. He knew that ordinary souls couldn’t

materialize. If this man could pick up the stone, then he was indeed a
primordial spirit.

But… only some powerful veterans had primordial spirits. And according
to his observation, Cheng Qian was afraid that even his master didn’t have
one.
Cheng Qian froze. In the end, he put away the wooden sword dejectedly. He
had resigned to the fact that he stood no chance against a cultivator with a
primordial spirit, whether the man’s words were true or not.

“I am Tang Zhen from Mulan Mountain. Speaking of which… I’ve met

your master once,” said the ghost, somewhat absent-minded. “A hundred
years ago, I fell prey to a demonic cultivator’s plot and my primordial spirit
got trapped in his Soul-Consuming Lamp. Fortunately, I was not completely
refined. By fluke, I escaped, but I lost my mental abilities during the one
hundred years imprisonment and nearly forgot my name… I’m so lucky
that you have a Heart-Purifying Charm. Could you please… give it to me?”

Cheng Qian shilly-shallied for a few seconds. Then he put the leaf on the
ground and cautiously took a dozen steps backwards grabbing Han Yuan. A
trace of delight flashed across the ghost’s face. He reached out his hand and
called over the leaf into his grasp. Instantly, the leaf gave off a stronger light
than before and transformed into a cluster of white light which was sucked
into the ghost’s body. The ghastly, bloody atmosphere and the stink around
him disappeared in no time, and a healthy complexion emerged on his face.

The ghost who called himself Tang Zhen took a deep breath and made a
deep bow to Cheng Qian and Han Yuan, saying, “Nothing but silent
gratitude to your great help, though it isn’t much use, please send my
regards to your master. The demonic cultivator Jiang Peng had a
relationship with your sect, please tell him to be careful.”

With that, he vanished into thin air as though he had never existed.

“What did he mean?” After a long time, Han Yuan asked baffled, “Xiao-
Qian, what did his words mean?”

Cheng Qian didn’t reply. His sight went dark and he slumped onto the
ground.

Han Yuan was frightened. He pulled the boy up in a flurry. “Xiao-Qian,

what happened?”
Cheng Qian’s ears were ringing and his limbs were so flabby that he
couldn’t stand up. So he had to allow Han Yuan to clumsily carry him onto
his back.

And the chief culprit was still chattering as he ran carrying Cheng Qian,
“Speak to me, Xiao-Qian? Little Senior Brother?”

Cheng Qian was so nauseous that he almost threw up. With fingers
clutching at Han Yuan’s clothes, he spat out a sentence using all his
strength, “I’m going to tell Master. Han Yuan, you’re dead!”
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 27

The next day when Cheng Qian woke up, he felt like he had almost
perished last night. He opened his eyes only to see Han Yuan by his
bedside, looking at him nervously as though he was dying.

Cheng Qian took no notice of him as he crawled out of bed and began to
wash and rinse.

Han Yuan just acted like a big Pekinese dog that had caused trouble,
following Cheng Qian wherever he went. Finally, Cheng Qian coldly told
him: “Scram.”

Han Yuan pocketed his pride and said flatteringly, “Little Senior Brother…”

Cheng Qian looked frosty. “I will not report to Master, alright? Get lost! Or
I’ll tell Master right now.”

Han Yuan ran away quickly with his tail between his legs.

Cheng Qian wiped his face dry. He had his own deliberations—from what
first senior brother said, Master had already learned from Wen Ya that the
so-called Jiang Peng had also arrived here. As a result, he wouldn’t report
what happened last night to Master; it might alert him to what they were
planning to do. If so, it would be more difficult for them to stalk Master.

Upon walking out of his cottage, Cheng Qian noticed first senior brother
expressing his disdain for the food in the inn, then proceeding to ask a
Taoist child to prepare better food for him, in Wen Ya Zhenren’s presence.

Han Yuan clearly didn’t learn his lesson from last night’s fearful experience.
He jabbered on and on to first senior brother, expressing his wish to hang
out.
First senior brother used a bunch of excuses, like he had a stiff neck
because of the hard pillow, implying that he didn’t feel like moving around.

Yan Zhengming also refused to get on his carriage again because of junior
sister’s urine.

Cheng Qian felt terrible all over his body and was in a bad mood. So when
he saw his clamorous martial brothers, he immediately found a way to
relieve his anger as he sneered, “You can have Puddle wash your cushion.”

With that, he lifted his finger, and in the direction he pointed, little junior
sister Puddle had climbed into first senior brother’s carriage again and was
stuffing the cushion on which she had peed yesterday into her mouth. Her
innocent eyes were blinking, and a big smile was hanging on her face.

And as she hadn’t grown a full set of teeth yet, saliva was spilling out of her
mouth.

It seemed that Cheng Qian feared that first senior brother wouldn’t feel bad,
as he gave him another verbal stab. “Look: junior sister has washed your
cushion with her drool.”

Yan Zhengming looked as though he was going to kill his junior sister and
then kill himself.

Anyway, the cottage was definitely not a place to stay, and neither was the
carriage. Here was miles away from Fuyao Mountain. Yan Zhengming
raised his eyes heavenward, feeling sad that there wasn’t even a shelter for
him in this vast world.

But soon his master saved him from his sadness.

“There isn’t morning class today; you can all go out to have fun in the
morning. In the afternoon, we shall set out for the Azure Dragon Island on
the boat.”

Han Yuan cheered for that and looked eagerly at his master, saying,
“Master, I heard there’s another fair today.”
“Didn’t I give you a pouch of money yesterday?” Muchun Zhenre said,
exasperated. But he was defeated by Han Yuan’s eager expression, so he
took a pouch out of his sleeve and exhorted his apprentice like a miser. “Be
careful with your money and use it wisely.”

Han Yuan was filled with boundless joy, like a bird flying out of its cage.
First senior brother just ignored him. He asked his Taoist children to find a
place and put several felt blankets on it so that he could take a nap.

Li Yun had wanted to go with Han Yuan, but after glancing at Cheng Qian,
he changed his mind. He said, “I’ll practice swordplay.”

Han Yuan turned to Cheng Qian and obsequiously said, “Little Senior
Brother, how about I take you to buy fruit?”

“Take junior sister with you,” replied Cheng Qian ironically. “You two play
nice together.”

Han Yuan: “…”

In the end, Han Yuan held Puddle up with one arm. Scratching his cheek, he
felt that he seemed to have been mocked. But soon he forgot it because
Cheng Qian was like a needle hidden in silk floss that would prick whoever
touched him. Sometimes even Master couldn’t be spared. Han Yuan was
used to it, so he didn’t mind and joyfully went out with Puddle.

Wen Ya pulled a long face. Watching Muchun Zhenren’s apprentices break

up in a hubbub after brief conversations, he gave each of them an
evaluation. Staring at Yan Zhengming, he remarked, “Lack discipline,
ne’er-do-well1.”

Then he looked at Li Yun. “Short of firmness, ne’er-do-well.”

And to Cheng Qian, his evaluation was concise. Without specifying the
reason, he stated, “Ne’er-do-well.”

Han Yuan was the last, and the only one who didn’t receive “ne’er-do-well”
as his evaluation. Wenya Zhenren asked Muchun Zhenren very surprisedly,
“Did you pick up this guy to make up the numbers?”

As for Puddle, she was neglected as she was only half human and didn’t
have a full set of teeth.

Finishing his comments, Wen Ya snorted and walked off without looking at
Muchun Zhenren’s cloudy face.

At nightfall, the people of Fuyao Sect boarded the ship for Azure Dragon
Island.

Cultivators were all built with flesh and blood just like mortals. They were
also divided by ranks and liked to compare.

At the port of East Sea, tens of ships and boats were lined up in a row.
Some were big ships decorated with carved patterns and exquisite curtains,
and some were small boats which were so broken that it seemed that water
would come in if they were rocked.

The bargain-hunter Master settled on the small boats at once; it would only
cost them five coins per person. That couldn’t be any cheaper and better for
them.

There were a few pots and bowls on the boat. It was said that they were
used for bailing water when the boat leaked.

But Master’s plan fell through this time. Just as he was walking to the boat
at the dock, Yan Zhengming had sent a Taoist child to book the largest,
most expensive, and most splendid ship. He took the lead to go abroad,
head high and chest out.

Cheng Qian went last with his master because he really didn’t want to go
with any of his martial brothers.

Then Cheng Qian saw his master frown at first senior brother for the first
time.

Seeing that, Cheng Qian inquired, “What’s wrong, Master? Is it because

first senior brother is too prodigal?”
“It’s indeed hard to do anything without money,” said Muchun. “But money
is ultimately an external thing which we can’t care too much. He shouldn’t
have been so ostentatious.”

Cheng Qian did a double-take before he realized what his master was
talking about. He scanned his surroundings and saw around them were all
people heading for Azure Dragon Island. Except for sailors and fishermen,
there were also people from other sects.

Some young people who couldn’t hide their thoughts were already
scrutinizing them up and down.

Yan Zhengming ordered the Taoist children to carry his luxurious stuff onto
the ship. His lofty manner had seemingly hidden his identity as a cultivator
and made him look somewhat like a profligate son from a wealthy family.
He was giving an impression of an unworldly insolent loafer.

Some people thereby showed contempt, some showed repugnance, and

several people in rags walking around the boats stared at Yan Zhengming
with strange expressions.

Cheng Qian tightened his grip on his wooden sword involuntarily. He

suddenly looked up and asked, “Master, when can I have a real sword? A
sword like first senior brother’s—I think his swordsmanship isn’t even as
good as mine.”

Muchun Zhey looked at him tenderly. “Why do you want a real sword?”

Cheng Qian ran his eyes around those people with unkind expressions
again, thinking how he should reply. He was extremely sensitive to
hostilities from others and would feel secured only if he was holding a real
weapon.

Though Cheng Qian thought first senior brother had got lousy wiring too,
Master’s words sounded harsh to him…

Why must a man live under other people’s views and cater to others’ likes?
Why should people disobey their own wills because of the envy of others?

Why?!

But these thoughts couldn’t be said to Master. Cheng Qian was sure that
Master wouldn’t like to hear. So he said instead, “I see everyone else has
one.”

Muchun Zhenren smiled. “The sword you’re practicing with is different

from others’. And real swords might injure you. Just wait until you’re a few
years older.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He felt there was more to Master’s words than met the ears.

As the large ship was already booked, Muchun had no choice but to board
the vessel with Cheng Qian.

The weather was fine today. Ships were sailing on a calm sea, and the
Azure Dragon Island that used to be indistinct could be clearly seen now.
Puddle was extremely excited by the smell of the sea. She never calmed
down for a second, climbing up and down on Master’s shoulders, and
messing his hair up like a birds nest.

There were many traveling together with them. From the deck, they could
see some sword cultivators fighting each other for practice on the ship
beside theirs.

On another ship, several old men were traveling on flying swords, probably
to escort juniors of their sect. Perhaps they thought the ship was sailing too
slowly, as an old man who looked like a fat radish raised his arms, making
his sleeves bulge against the sea wind. There and then, the wind and waves
swelled up, and their ship cleaved merrily through the sea as if being
pushed by an invisible hand. Several boats nearby were nearly turned over.

Those sword cultivators’ ship also came close to capsizing. A middle-aged

man who seemed to be a senior ran to the bow of the ship with his heavy
saber. He erected the saber beside him and used some unknown force to
stabilize the ship, which was neither too small nor too big. His face
reddened.

Although Fuyao Sect had nobody to escort them, they had a large ship
instead. It just swayed slightly in the huge waves, splashing some seawater.

But hence, Cheng Qian felt more hostile gazes from the small boats around
them.

Grabbing his wooden sword, Cheng Qian stood by the railing of the ship
expressionlessly. He just felt those cultivators weren’t so peaceful, and
didn’t have a similar laissez-faire attitude2 as the people from Fuyao
Mountain. Some of them abused their power to bully others, and the ones
who were bullied didn’t hate those who bullied them but instead envied
those who escaped.

Cheng Qian suddenly lost his exhilaration. He didn’t want to watch those
almighty beings ride the clouds anymore, and his self-pride was at work
again; it bothered him that they were traveling side by side with those
people.

Getting back in the cabin, Cheng Qian found a place to sit down and took
up his burin to do extra practices, with the itchy wish to become an
almighty being when he woke up the next day.

Apart from that, he had taken out a swordplay book form the Library. It was
called Tide Swordplay, which happened to coincide with their journey on
the East Sea. Cheng Qian had finished learning the second form of Fuyao
Wooden Swordplay and had just begun learning the third one. He had
almost caught up with Li Yun’s pace—the reason why he was learning so
quickly was that he was the only one of all Muchun’s apprentices who got
his hands torn from practicing.

Compared with Fuyao Wooden Swordplay, other swordplays seemed to be

much more in a straightforward and flat style without those dazzling
variations. Just when Cheng Qian got some insight after practicing Tide
Swordplay several times, Li Yun broke in.
“Xiao-Qian!” Li Yun pushed the door open, gasping for breath. “Why are
you hiding here? Come up with me. It seems that the archdevil first senior
brother mentioned is here!”

1. ne’er-do-well: somebody who is lazy and irresponsible

2. the attitude of not interfering, leaving things as they are.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 28

Cheng Qian and Li Yun scurried to the deck. As soon as Cheng Qian exited
the cabin, his nostrils were assaulted by a terrible stench and, as he raised
his head, he saw an unusual scene above him—the originally clear sky had
been blotted out by dark clouds. They stretched across as far as his eyes
could discern, engulfing his vision and shutting out the last ray of sunlight.

All ships on the sea had come to a halt, and all of those seniors who were
flying flamboyantly now landed on the ship’s deck, their countenance
signifying that they had encountered a formidable foe. Some young people
may have been oblivious to what was happening, but they were stupefied
the moment they all looked up at the sky.

Li Yun fidgeted, pacing back and forth as he quietly asked Cheng Qian, “Is
that him? What does he want?”

Cheng Qian suddenly thought of Tang Zhen as he answered, “Probably to

collect cultivators’ souls; the Celestial Market gathers many cultivators
from all around the continent.”

Li Yun turned around, looking at him in horror.

“If he really wanted to capture people, his targets would be those flying
seniors and not you. Stop worrying,” Cheng Qian said, looking around.
“Where is Master?”

Suddenly, an eagle’s cry resounded from afar, followed by weird laughs

reverberating in the air. Men and women, old and young: their laughs
blended into a creepy harmony, starting off low and quiet before gradually
becoming louder and sharper—eventually to the point of resembling hoarse
and exhausted cries. It was the epitome of “wailing like ghosts and howling
like wolves”.

Li Yun staggered backwards, covering his ears with his hands, “What is
this?”

They were surrounded by scenes of chaos. At that moment, Yan Zhengming

appeared out of nowhere and seized Cheng Qian by the shoulder,
suffocating him with his familiar fragrance of orchids.

“What are you two doing here? Get inside the cabin!” snapped Yan
Zhengming.

Cheng Qian looked around for Muchun Zhenren, but he was nowhere to be
seen. Panicking, he pulled on Yan Zhengming’s sleeve and asked, “First
Senior Brother, where’s Master?”

“I don’t know. I’m searching for him too.” Yan Zhengming’s face looked
sullen like deep water. “Don’t be a hindrance here, get inside…”

His voice was soon drowned out by the bloodcurdling laughs. Yan
Zhengming closed his mouth and his brows knitted together tightly.

Li Yun was good at avoiding danger and entered the cabin as he was told,
but Cheng Qian wasn’t someone who listened to others. Yan Zhengming
didn’t have time to argue, so he just violently shoved Cheng Qian into the
cabin.

The windproof and shockproof lanterns lit up and Han Yuan was hiding
there, anxious and frightened.

Cheng Qian’s heart sank upon seeing Puddle in Han Yuan’s arms.

The tracking charm they made had been tied with a coloured silk around
Puddle’s waist by Li Yun. Unfortunately, they had never thought that their
master would leave Puddle behind.

Yan Zhengming arrived at last. His face was exhausted and deathly pale. He
panted and puffed, leaning against the door with one hand covering his
mouth as though trying hard to hold back the vomit.

After a while, he said, “I’ve identified this stench: it’s exactly what a Soul-
Consuming Lamp would emit when burning.”

Li Yun, who was sat by the window, muttered under his breath, “Shh! Look
at the sky.”

Looking up, Cheng Qian saw a dense cluster of shadows in the dark sky.

There were tens of thousands of them, all shabbily dressed with blurred
faces. They floated about in the air, causing the East Sea to look like the
entrance to the Bridge of Helplessness1.

These ghost shadows… why were there so many?

How powerful was this demonic cultivator, Jiang Peng, exactly?

The dark clouds roiled as the currents surged and fell. Witnessing this
scene, those overbearing cultivators suddenly became like gazelles
confronted with lions. Cheng Qian could see their cowardice and fright,
despite all of them standing in full combat readiness.

A bolt of lightning, accompanied by a peal of thunder, divided the world in

two, followed by a billow of black air that streaked across the sky like a
dragon diving into the sea. After careful observation, people noticed a man
reclining in the dark clouds.

He was wearing a grey robe, with his eyelids hanging low on his ashen and
sallow face as though he had an incurable disease. His appearance made
him look exactly like a malevolent ghost as he cast his disdainful gaze over
all living beings beneath the clouds.

Cheng Qian peeped at Yan Zhengming’s hand on the window frame and
saw blue veins bulging out.

At first sight of the demonic cultivator, disbelief rushed through Cheng

Qian’s mind, thinking that there may have been something wrong with first
senior brother’s ears. Did Master really call such a person “Senior
Brother”?

Cheng Qian’s imagination failed him; he could hardly believe that such a
person was once a member of the Fuyao Sect.

What kind of master could have produced these two apprentices?

Those immortal seniors seemed to cherish their lives more than Cheng Qian
could have imagined; nobody even volunteered to stand out against the
devil, who emitted a deadly aura. After passing the buck2to each other,
there was finally someone who took up the responsibility to break the
impasse.

An old man with a white beard stood out from the crowd. He knocked the
deck with his cane, and after contemplating his words, he said very
courteously, “We’re heading to the Azure Dragon Island for the decennial
Celestial Market. What’s your intention of stopping us here, fellow Taoist
Jiang?”

His politeness was verging on flattery, but the devil didn’t seem to buy it.

“The decennial Celestial Market has brought so many talented juniors

together. How brilliant…” the phthisic-like Jiang Peng spoke from upon the
clouds with a light and gentle voice. Every first and last syllable was
connected, causing people to be worried that he would show his fangs in the
next second.

Jiang Peng smiled like a gentleman, “I just came along for the ride and to
see if there were any emerging talented youngsters whilst I was here. But
considering your aptitude, there’s no need to be nervous.”

This was Cheng Qian’s first time seeing a ghost cultivator, and it gave him
a completely different impression from what the records in the Library had
said. Shock engulfed his heart.

For such a man who was somewhere between a human being and a ghost,
even if he had superhuman skills, who would have respect for him?
Who’d care about him? Who’d get along with him? Who’d take him
seriously?

Being verbally stabbed, the old man with a white beard felt his face twitch,
but he couldn’t gather up the courage to talk back.

Both sides came to a deadlock—as the other party was alone, it would be
fairly awkward even to just keep silent on this occasion.

Cheng Qian couldn’t help but put his hand on the hilt of his sword,
thinking, “If I had their swords and abilities, I’d have him fuck off right
away.”

Although Cheng Qian had this impulse, he was also clear that he didn’t
even have the strength to get first senior brother’s hand off his shoulder
right now, let alone have a fight with that devil.

Eventually, someone dared to stand up and speak out. A thundering bellow

broke the silence, “Get lost, you evil heretic!”

This sentence drew everyone’s attention. Cheng Qian took advantage of this
moment as he lurched and threw Yan Zhengming’s grip off his shoulder.
Then he stuck his entire upper body out of the window to find out who the
speaker was.

It was a young woman in her twenties or thirties, but her ostensible youth
didn’t mean anything in a cultivator’s case.

She was standing on a small boat which cost five coins per person.
Probably being short of money, she was wearing a unisex robe which was,
though not shabby, far from new, with many patches around the cuffs.
There were a tattered bag and a sword on her back; even the sheath was
badly rusted.

She seemed to be careless about her appearance, as she looked dirty and
couldn’t really count as a beautiful Taoist nun.
Cheng Qian had sharp ears which caught the whispers of those sword
cultivator disciples in the distance.

“Who’s that? Is she courting death?”

“Sh—that is Tang Wanqiu Zhenren from Mulan Mountain.”

“What? She is Tang Wanqiu? The one who practices ‘lunatic’ swordplay…”

“How come she’s also here?”

“Well… a mere… she really overestimates her abilities.”

Cheng Qian accurately caught the words “Mulan Mountain” in the noise.

Her surname was Tang too… what was the relationship between her and the
male ghost Tang Zhen?

But before he could think it carefully, those expressionless ghosts in the air
had all turned to Tang Wanqiu. Dark clouds ran riot with vicious currents.
The boatman of Tang Wanqiu’s boat was so scared that he huddled himself
up, wishing that he could throw himself into the sea.

Jiang Peng glanced at Tang Wanqiu, thinking nothing of her. He suddenly

pursed his lips and a shrill whistle sound pierced into everyone’s ears.
Cheng Qian felt his ears booming, and there was a moment when he
thought he was deafened.

Immediately after that, all ghost shadows gathered into a black dragon,
swooping down at the Taoist nun on that broken boat. The boatman gave a
miserable shriek and hastily jumped into the water. However, before he
reached the sea, a ghost shadow had caught him by the ankle and gave it a
deep bite.

When the boatman’s leg was almost broken, a shiny sword light swooshed
over, chopping the ghost shadow’s head off its body.

Despite the rusty sheath of Tang Wanqiu’s sword, the sword itself was
exceedingly clean and dazzlingly bright. The dusty woman stood alone on
the prow of the boat, encircled by thousands of ghost shadows.

However shiny her sword was, it was only intermittently visible in the thick
black clouds. Cries and smirks of ghosts mingled with roars of tides. Tang
Wanqiu was nearly devoured by the black ghosts, revealing her sorry figure
only once in a while.

She was a lonely fighter. Though awkward, she was awe-inspiringly

awkward.

It seemed that she didn’t give a shit about those who chose to be onlookers
for self-preservation. All you could see was steadfastness on her angular
face. She herself was the most satirical satire on those cowards.

Cheng Qian was so obsessed that he did not so much as blink. But he soon
found something wrong; though Tang Wanqiu’s shining sword flashed
above and around and appeared to have gained the upper hand, she was
nearly on her last legs.

While the demonic cultivator himself was leisurely sitting cross-legged on

the clouds throughout as if watching a show. The ghost shadows came in
waves and continually assembled in the air, diving toward Tang Wanqiu in a
steady stream.

Cheng Qian winced. He had this feeling that Tang Zhenren wasn’t a match
for that demonic cultivator.

“The evil will not triumph over the virtuous” was just bullshit. There was
no denying that the devil had a stronger force. However dauntless the
woman was, she ultimately had a body made of flesh and blood.

With a sudden bang, the boat Tang Wanqiu was standing on split in two.
Tang Wanqiu held her exclamation back in her throat and managed to jump
onto her flying sword, but was pressed down again by another pack of ghost
shadows when she tried to fly up. Crises occurred one after another.

Someone exclaimed, but no one helped.

Right at this moment, an arrow abruptly streaked across the blue sky,
leaving a trace of an afterimage. The arrow unmercifully shot through the
black mist enveloping Tang Zhenren, the tail feather making a piercing
sound. Those ghost shadows were cleared immediately before they could
dodge, while the arrow swished directly towards the demonic cultivator by
virtue of its remaining force. It was so swift and fierce like the first ray of
sun that shone through the dark at dawn.

Cheng Qian jerked his head around and saw his master, astounded.

Muchun Zhenren had left the big ship when nobody noticed and was
standing on a small broken boat whose boatman and original passengers
had fled. He was dripping wet. Clothes clung tightly to his body, leaving his
slightly hunched back and skinniness nowhere to hide. He was like an old
molting poultry that had curled up, shivering.

Compared to him, even the wretched Tang Wanqiu seemed much more
decent.

At once, Cheng Qian knocked Li Yun out of the way and exited the cabin,
leaning over the ship’s railing. He saw Master holding a bow which was
probably left on the boat by a passenger, and there were wood shavings in
his thumbnail. It seemed that he had carved some charm on the arrow
provisionally.

That striking shot seemed to have burned Muchun up as he looked sort of

dispirited. He could barely stand on the rocky boat by propping himself up
on the bow, like a wilted leaf shivering in the autumn wind.

That demonic cultivator was reduced to a passive position by Muchun’s

arrow. He rolled off the cloud and floated in the air, staring stonily at
Muchun Zhenren.

Muchun Zhenren opened and shut his mouth, unspeaking. He chuckled

after a minute and said, “Jiang Peng.”

“Han Muchun,” the demonic cultivator cracked an indescribable smile.

“Nice to see you again. It’s really brave of you to stand out for someone
else when you’re already half-dead yourself.”

Muchun Zhenren gradually straightened his back, which seemed to have

been crooked for a million years, and directly met the devil’s eyes. With his
goatee bristling, he broke into a somewhat uncouth smile with a trace of
derision, saying, “You flatter me.”

Jiang Peng’s face suddenly changed. With a flick of his sleeve, all ghost
shadows evaporated in a rush, leaving himself solitary in the sky. Jiang
Peng said in a horrifying voice, “An ant trying to shake a giant tree and a
waste who already has one foot in the grave. Today I’ll take both of you
into my lamp and you’ll be the stepping-stones on my way of claiming the
title of Beiming…”

As he spoke, a mountain of freak waves piled up and the deep water

abruptly billowed up as if boiling, following which a water dragon cut
through the surface. With a sweep of its tyrannical tail, a lot of people were
thrown off their feet.

Muchun Zhenren darted a quick glance backward at Cheng Qian, who was
looking at him eagerly, and drew out his wooden sword hanging from his
hip. However, just as he decided to launch a death battle against Jiang Peng,
his arm was suddenly fettered by some invisible force.

Muchun Zhenren’s face finally fell. But just then a comforting voice rang in
his ears, “Don’t move. I’ll take him on.”

Before Muchun Zhenren could react, an antiquated copper coin dropped out
of his sleeve.

Upon the coin touching the ground, a white smoke rose from it and in a
trice, blended into the plentiful water vapor stirred by the water dragon,
rising quietly.

The sea was in utter shambles. Looking at the giant water dragon in a
stupor, Muchun Zhenren’s face changed several times before it stopped at
an extremely grave expression.
That water dragon opened its mouth wide, planning to swallow a big ship
wholly, when it suddenly felt something and froze in the air. After a second,
it unexpectedly broke down into a mixture of waterdrops and steam and
plunged into the sea, whipping up powerful waves.

This event was quite unforeseen. Even Jiang Peng backed and muttered in a
frightful tone, “Who?”

When the steam cleared, countless black shadows gathered from all
directions, taking a human shape where the water dragon disappeared. But
its face was still blurred.

That person grinned in a deep voice and said in a leisure and unhurried
manner, “Who’s blustering before me, that he wants to win the title of
Beiming?”

1. the place where someone gets reincarnated after death in Taoist myths
2. pass the buck: to evade responsibility by passing it onto somebody
else.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 29

A sudden hush fell over the sea.

For the four disciples of Fuyao Sect, this dark silhouette was somewhat
familiar. Yan Zhengming had caught a few words of what the shadow had
said, and though he was the only one who knew how this person who’d
once resided within a tablet had now shown up here, all of them were aware
of the fact that this man must be closely related to their sect.

The last time they had met in the Demon Valley, this archdevil had treated
them very amiably. Though he was fond of fooling those kids, he never
angered even when they exposed his lies. From this, one could see his good
temper.

Today, however, he appeared to be a starkly different person.

Though Yan Zhengming stood on the deck of a large ship, he felt the
tyrannically vicious vibes emitting from Lord Beiming and setting the sea
in unrest.

Jiang Peng’s expression twisted, and he jumped from the clouds onto the
ship carrying a group of sword cultivators.

Those cultivators, who moments ago had been flashing their swords and
killing ghost shadows, now leapt into the ocean like dumplings being
poured into a pot. Without warning or reason, they splashed into the water
and sent up spectacular waves.

A storm sprang up over the sea, causing Yan Zhengming to stagger and
nearly lose his footing.
Fortunately, the entire body of this ship had been carved with charms drawn
by powerful cultivators, allowing it to stay stable for a good while. It was
for this reason that the ship was so expensive. But by the time Yan
Zhengming regained his balance, his heart sank. His master disappeared
with his boat!

“Tell the shipmaster to drive the ship away,” Yan Zhengming instructed a
Taoist boy. “There’s a telescope in my luggage, fetch it for me… Cheng
Qian, what the fuck are you doing? Get down!”

Cheng Qian had climbed up the ship last, and while Yan Zhengming had
been distracted, Cheng Qian started gazing around the area.

Yan Zhengming rolled up his sleeves, took a striding step with his long legs,
and pulled Cheng Qian down by hooking his arms around the boy’s waist.

Cheng Qian had been searching for Muchun Zhenren. After being yanked
down like a chick before he had found anything, he struggled for all he was
worth. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing!?” Yan Zhengming shouted in Cheng Qian’s ear,
holding him with his hand.

“I’m looking for Master!”

“You’re looking for death!”

Yan Zhengming fumed. Then he got a glimpse of Xueqing hurrying out for
Cheng Qian, so Yan Zhengming ordered him, “Ehh… You, what’s your
name again? Come over, watch this kid, don’t let him…”

Another quake of the ship cut Yan Zhengming short; Lord Beiming and
Jiang Peng had come to blows.

The water dragon breached the surface of the water once again. Even the
big ship of the Fuyao Sect couldn’t resist leaning sideways. Yan Zhengming
had been left no time to hand Cheng Qian over to Xueqing. He pulled
Cheng Qian tightly into his arms, and immediately after, he fell over, his
back hitting the cabin next to him. The charms all over the entire ship began
groaning madly.

With one side being an almighty demonic cultivator who could trap
primordial spirits into his Soul-Consuming Lamp, and the other side being
the grandmaster of all devil magic—Lord Beiming—their earthshaking
clashes made those people on the sea seem like lowly crickets and ants who
were forced to flow helplessly with the waves.

Trapped in such a sorry plight, Yan Zhengming finally couldn’t help

shouting out his thoughts.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left the mountain!”

Cheng Qian struggled to lift his head and complained, “You are pressing my
ribs.”

Yan Zhengming picked himself up with both hands and feet and thrust
Cheng Qian into the cabin. “That’s because you’re so short that my arm
could only reach your ribs!”

All of the protection charms on the big ship worked at full capacity. The
ship swayed like a flickering candlelight in the midst of the raging tides.
Perhaps after this experience, their master would no longer oppose young
master Yan’s theory that “cheap things are not good; good things are not
cheap.”

Only then did Yan Zhengming take a breath and look over the situation.

Yet the water vapour had blurred his eyesight, so he couldn’t see anything.
He involuntarily thought of what he had heard from Wen Ya. According to
him, Lord Beiming should be a senior of their sect who was still concerned
about the sect despite the fact that he had strayed into Diabolism. Last time,
he even sacrificed one of his souls in the Demon Valley to save them.

At that thought, Yan Zhengming suddenly became a little worried: this

black shadow in front of them was probably an incomplete primordial spirit
since he had only two out of three spiritual souls left. This ghost cultivator,
on the other hand, happened to be the primordial spirit-killer and also didn’t
look like someone to be trifled with. So, what if he even defeated Lord
Beiming?

But this thought only lingered in his head for a second or so before it
vanished. “This is a fight between two devils; whichever side wins has
nothing to do with us,” Yan Zhengming thought, and as he adjusted his
facial expression, he prepared to turn to give Cheng Qian a lecture.
Nonetheless, he turned around only to find that when his concentration had
lapsed for just a moment, Cheng Qian had gone missing!

And Puddle, as well.

Their disappearance made Yan Zhengming choke with anger, worry

churning in his stomach. He looked around in a great flurry, fearing that
those two brats had been captured by ghost shadows, or that they had fallen
into the sea in the confusion.

“Young Master, third martial uncle is there!”

Yan Zhengming stumbled over to the Taoist child, and in the direction the
Taoist boy was pointing to, he saw Cheng Qian and Puddle stealthily
landing on their master’s broken boat.

Puddle’s wings hadn’t shrunk into her back yet, so it was evident how they
had gotten down there. Yan Zhengming only couldn’t puzzle out how
Cheng Qian had managed to persuade her.

In the meantime, the two devils fought heatedly in the sky. In such a tense
situation, Yan Zhengming couldn’t just go rant at his junior brother; instead,
he could only glare at him. Seeing that bastard wave to him from that
leaking boat, Yan Zhengming felt a spasm of pain in his stomach.

He found this “gentle and quiet” junior brother had such a brave bearing
that he could even disregard his life and death. That boy didn’t give a shit
about whether the sky fell or the earth quaked, and cared about only a few
people. Therefore, even if the two devils were going to rip a hole in the
heavens, all he wanted to do was to find his master.
Muchun Zhenren was so scared by his apprentices’ arrival that his heart
nearly jumped out of his mouth. He hurriedly put his index and middle
fingers together, shot a bullet of spirit energy at Puddle and Cheng Qian to
get them down, and raised his arms to catch them.

He was just about to lose temper when Cheng Qian clutched at his sleeves.
The first sentence out of his mouth was, “Master, are you alright!?”

“Ah ah!” Puddle echoed with him.

Muchun Zhenren’s eyelids kept twitching. On one hand, he wanted to give

each of them a slap in the bottom; on the other hand, his heart was so
moved and softened by Cheng Qian’s words that in the end, he failed to do
what he wanted to do.

Just then, a shriek broke out overhead. Jiang Peng’s body was nearly
transparent, a gruesome flame dimly visible in his chest. Currents of air as
dark as ink rose up in waves to his face, darkening even the whites of his
eyes.

Dumbstruck, Muchun Zhenren murmured, “Using his body as the lamp… is

he freaking crazy?”

And then, Muchun Zhenren’s presence changed as he planted his wooden

sword into the deck. The sword in his hand seemed to have transformed
into an exceptionally sharp weapon as it effortlessly cleaved deep into the
deck. At the same moment, seawater rushed all around them, rising and
forming a globe of water which encased the master and his apprentices
inside its sphere.

Shortly after he’d done that, an inexpressible scream whipped out, so

earsplitting that even Muchun Zhenren’s water globe couldn’t completely
block it, and so mournful that it seemed as though thousands of ghosts were
wailing at the same time. An ominous air climbed into the sky and gathered
those dark clouds together. Lightning loomed over the clouds as the canopy
of the sky shrouded the world in darkness, dwarfing Lord Beiming in
insignificance.
As the ghost shadows rampaged, Lord Beiming’s figure became
increasingly fragile. Beneath his feet were treacherous surging tides, where
we stood looking like the most indomitable thorn between the heaven and
earth.

Watching that figure, a phrase dawned upon Cheng Qian—“No matter how
many foes, they cannot bend my will.”

The powerful demonic cultivator who could refine primordial spirits and
the down-and-out ugly Taoist bun, the wild water dragon and the unsharp
wooden sword, the thunders from the highest heavens and the fragmented
soul of Lord Beiming…

Tang Wanqiu’s dazzling swordlight, the sawdust in master’s fingertips, and

the solitary view of Lord Beiming’s back… suddenly, all those scenes
flashed across Cheng Qian’s mind as something flew into his body, racing
through his aching and still-recovering channels, sending a buzz of pain
through his body.

Startled, Muchun Zhenren, hurried to catch Cheng Qian as he fell. He

hadn’t expected that this boy would drift into his first meditation under such
a situation and was unsure about whether this apprentice was innately brave
or if he was destined to embark on a dangerous branch road in the future.

The situation was critical for Cheng Qian. Each time, the Celestial Market
was held on an island on the East Sea. On that island was a forest of
celestial mountains which made this area thick with magic. Now, that
abundant spiritual energy was excessively absorbed into Cheng Qian’s body
like an ocean being emptied into a small brook, almost bursting Cheng
Qian’s fragile channels.

Puddle was scared voiceless. She blankly observed her third senior brother
curl up because of the billows of pain.

In the sky, Jiang Peng had fully changed into a huge Soul-Consuming
Lamp. The ghost shadows as multitudinous as willow catkins were sucked
into the inauspicious lamp flame in an instant, and even the black mist
covering Lord Beiming’s skin nearly dispersed. But before anyone could
get a clear view of his face, Lord Beiming dashed towards the lamp with
remarkable speed, like a moth darting into the fire.

Unexpectedly, however, the moment Lord Beiming moved, Puddle

suddenly lost control of her wings and levitated in the air as if being pulled
up.

In a dreadful rush, Muchun Zhenren stretched out to grip Puddle’s clothes

while watching over Cheng Qian at the same time.

Only then did he notice the belt on the chubby girl’s waist. He reached to
the gaudy belt and pulled it off.

Muchun shook a wooden talisman out of it. It was exactly the “tracking
charm” that Cheng Qian had instructed Yan Zhengming to make.

Cheng Qian himself was a just beginner who lacked all understanding of
the taboos and knacks of the art of charms, and Yan Zhengming was
nothing short of an amateur; on top of that, they frequently quarreled while
making the talisman, so how could they have possibly carved the tracking
charm in the correct way?

Actually, even Muchun Zhenren didn’t recognize what that charm was
when he passed a simple glance over it.

It wouldn’t matter if the charm were completely incorrect; at most, it would

just be a waste of wood. The dangerous thing about it was that this
unknown charm seemed to have now activated!

Right at the moment when Lord Beiming and the Soul-Consuming Lamp
crashed in the sky, the vast darkness battling the intense brightness, a
sparkle burst out from the talisman and quickly stretched out and expanded,
turning into dazzling light. That light then rose up and crashed into a bolt of
lightning that fell from the heavens. For a moment, everyone was struck
blind, and the world before them became a world of white.

After an unknown amount of time, the blaze faded out. Lord Beiming and
Jiang Peng were both gone, and Muchun Zhenren and his two apprentices
had also disappeared. Where they once stood, only shreds of colored silk
were left.

Cheng Qian suffered the anguish of thousands of cuts before he felt the pain
finally ease away. He thought he was dying. In his unconsciousness, he
seemed to hear a light cry. That was… junior sister?

Then he heard another soft voice whispering, “Shh—don’t cry.”

As Puddle’s whimper died down, everything around Cheng Qian seemed to

be moving away from him. He started to lose sense of his limbs and soon
his existence. He felt as if he was sinking into an unknown place and
blending into it.

After an unknown period of time, Cheng Qian came round and felt better
than he ever had before. Even the weariness and internal injuries from the
past few days had now disappeared.

He slowly exhaled a breath and blinked. Then he found himself in an

unfamiliar place.

This seemed to be a valley where an incredibly huge tree stood. Its root
protruding from the ground was as high as a house, and beneath it lay a
skeleton.

Beside the skeleton was his junior sister, along with a strange man.

Boggled, Cheng Qian propped himself up. “Senior… who are you?”

Then it suddenly struck him that he knew this guy—he was the man on the
half piece of portrait Cheng Qian had discovered on the second-to-last floor
of the Library. In front of this man’s feet lay silently a weasel with a slender
body, though one couldn’t tell if it was alive.

Puddle stared at this stranger inquisitively. Although her human part didn’t
recognize him, her demon part found this person very familiar.

The “stranger” turned to Cheng Qian, smiling faintly. “After a bit of time
has passed, you can’t even recognize your own master?”
Cheng Qian’s legs were originally numb; after hearing the familiar voice of
this stranger, he immediately slumped back to the ground. “Master?”

How come his long-waisted and short-legged master became such a

handsome man!?

Being taught the word “master” heaps of times, Puddle understood what it
meant. She let out a surprised “oh” and tilted her head, looking seriously in
thought as a string of glistening dribble hung from her mouth.

Seeing her saliva, the man in a long robe with wide sleeves sighed and
carefully wiped the saliva off. Then he droned, complaining, “Only I, your
master, would not detest you, my dirty girl. If it were your first senior
brother here, he would have stewed you.”

This familiar manner of speaking restored a sense of kinship in Puddle. She

soon forgot about what master looked like before his face “changed” and
happily blew her nose, smearing her master’s clean robe with tears and snot.

Cheng Qian was so confused that he felt like he was dreaming. There were
so many questions on his mind, but he could only start from the urgent
ones. “Master, what is this place? And… how did you become like this?”

Muchun Zhenren took out the slab, which had broken into two halves, and
threw them at Cheng Qian, saying sulkily, “You have the cheek to ask me
that? Look at what you guys have carved!”

Cheng Qian instantly recognised that was the thing which they’d worked on
for a half night. He stammered, “This… this is a tracking charm.”

Muchun Zhenren sighed, “How dare dabblers like you touch charms which
you’ve never seen before? You really have guts… there is more than one
mistake in your strokes, making it only a semi-finished soul-tracking
charm. Originally it had no use, but the soul-consuming lamp and Lord
Beiming’s powerful primordial spirit forced it to activate, and now it has
followed Lord Beiming’s primordial spirit to his boneyard.”

Cheng Qian couldn’t help but rest his eyes on the skeleton under the tree.
That was Lord Beiming’s?

He’d been dead?

A lot of doubts hovered in Cheng Qian’s head. He tentatively inquired,

“Master, do you know him?”

Muchun Zhenren gave a wry smile. “Thanks to you guys, I recognised him
only just now.”

With that, he fished a copper coin out of his sleeve and said, “Brother Wen
Ya has given me three copper coins1; now I have only this one left.”

His fingertips were dazzlingly white in contrast to the rusty coin. Cheng
Qian found himself still more used to Master’s wretched appearance with a
moustache—this man looked like someone who had walked out from a
picture, and thus gave Cheng Qian a feeling of distance as though in the
next moment, he would return into the portrait.

Muchun Zhenren flicked his fingertip against that coin, and with a tinkling
sound, a cloud of fog rose up from the copper coin, forming into Lord
Beiming.

After scrutinizing the man for a moment, Muchun Zhenren slowly knelt
down while holding Puddle, saluting, “Master.”

1. you may not notice, but the three copper coins were first mentioned in
Chapter 5.
 Volume Ⅰ Chapter 30

Cheng Qian was transfixed by his master’s form of address. He wasn’t sure
at first if he should call the other side “martial grandfather”.

Just a year ago, when Cheng Qian first walked into Fuyao Mountain, he had
blindly thought that this was an illegitimate yet somewhat decent sect.

It was completely understandable of him to think that way; after all, apart
from the knight-errants, which folk stories didn’t describe sects deserving to
be called such as having great bunch of people fighting and scheming
against each other?

Whereas Fuyao Sect only had a sect leader with a handful of callow kids—
even gangs of youths in rural areas were perhaps much larger than this.

But in the last couple of days, Cheng Qian had found out one after the other
that he had not only a martial uncle, but also a martial grandfather. Though
that wasn’t something he’d be proud of at all.

Just taking a look at his martial uncle who had the power to perform
astounding feats, and his martial grandfather, the top demonic cultivator in
this land, and then taking another look at his pitiful master, Cheng Qian
couldn’t help but wonder if Fuyao Sect existed just to elucidate to the world
the meaning of “While the priest climbs a post, the devil climbs ten.”

And moreover, between “a poultry sect”1 and “the headquarters of demonic

cultivators”, Cheng Qian dithered over which suited Fuyao Sect better.

After being recognized, Lord Beiming sighed a bit. Then the black mist
around his body cleared up to reveal his true face.
He had neither the demeanour of a transcendent being nor the fierce
features of an ogre. He was, on the whole, an ordinary person.

His sunken eyes added a touch of handsomeness to his visage. But beyond
that, this legendary grandmaster of all devil magic was actually an
unimposing middle-aged man—a haggard man with a sallow face and fine
shades of grey at his temples.

Tucking his hands into sleeves, Lord Beiming stood near his lonely corpse.
Then he waved his hand and said, “Rise, Xiao-Chun—you never knelt to
me when I was alive, so why bother doing it now?”

Muchun Zhenren readily stood up as he was told and laid Puddle down,
letting her go to Cheng Qian. Then he said in a rather casual manner, “I’m
visiting a grave, anyway; of course, I’m supposed to kneel to my ancestor.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He found it was a tradition of Fuyao Sect to show very little respect to one’s
elders and masters.

“I thought you were dead and that your primordial spirit had reincarnated.
That was why I had even mistaken Xiao-Qian as your reincarnation, since
his bazi2 was the same as yours, and that mulish disposition of his was so
like you. But I’d never thought… that your souls lingered in this world by
attaching to three copper coins.” Muchun Zhenren briefly paused before he
carried on with a sense of grievance, “Master, since you had to attach to
something, why did you choose copper coins? Even if you couldn’t find
gold, silver ingots also work great!”

When Lord Beiming was shrouded in black mist, his aura as the
grandmaster of all devil magics oozed from every pore, making people
readily prostrate themselves in worship. Whereas when he unveiled himself,
it wasn’t like that at all.

“If I did so, would I ever have had the chance to see you again? You’d have
squandered them to meet your urgent needs.” Lord Beiming chuckled as he
regarded Muchun Zhenren with the same gloom Muchun had while talking
to Yan Zhengming.

“Master, times have changed. Our sect is no longer as poor as it once was.”

“I know. You’ve accepted a God of Wealth as your apprentice,” said Lord

Beiming ironically, without any change of expression.

After this brief conversation, the master and the apprentice stared at each
other for a moment before breaking into a sudden laughter which baffled
Cheng Qian.

Holding Puddle, Cheng Qian gazed at the hollow-eyed corpse, utterly

unclear about what the two seniors were laughing about.

Moments later, Muchun Zhenren stopped laughing and asked, “One of your
souls dispersed in the Demon Valley, and one burnt up in the Soul-
Consuming Lamp, so this is your last one? Having lingered in the world for
so long with nothing to rely on, even Lord Beiming will end up being
eradicated, right?”

“It’s just death, nothing serious.” Lord Beiming smiled again.

“How about senior brother; is he dead now?”

When in front of dozens of ships and under countless gazes, Muchun had to
call him “Jiang Peng” directly. But now facing Lord Beiming, there was
nothing to conceal, so he used “senior brother”.

Lord Beiming paused and answered with eyes half closed, “He didn’t die in
seriousness. I splintered the spirit flame with all the strength of my
remaining soul, and I’ve given him a heavy blow. But your senior brother
has refined his body and the Soul-Consuming Lamp together; his souls have
become the spirit of that lamp and can never enter the cycle of reincarnation
again. He won’t be counted as a human being anymore, so arguably he’s
dead.”
Muchun Zhenren went silent for a while before asking again, “Did he
recognize you?”

Lord Beiming just kept smiling without replying. His smiling silence was as
though saying, “Now that things have reached this point, does it make any
difference whether he recognized me or not?”

Then he turned to Cheng Qian, benevolently saying, “Kid, it’s my third time
to see you. Come here.”

Cheng Qian advanced, but he didn’t go near Lord Beiming as he was told.
Rather, he silently went up to Muchun Zhenren’s side and tepidly gave a
wordless salute to Lord Beiming, as Cheng Qian didn’t know how to
address him.

Even though Master and Lord Beiming seemed to be very close when they
chatted, Cheng Qian’s intuition told him that it might not necessarily be the
case.

Suppose that they had been so intimate as they appeared now, Cheng Qian
couldn’t fathom why Master had never mentioned martial grandfather at
least once in the past few years, and why he didn’t come to bury him.

Lord Beiming lowered his head and asked patiently, “You’re such a daring
little blighter as to enter meditation in that situation. Did you have an
insight?”

Cheng Qian dithered before he replied politely, “Enlightened by senior, you,

and Tang Zhenren, I learned the bearing of being fearless of the Heaven, the
Earth, the people, and anything.”

His answer aroused many feelings in Lord Beiming’s heart. He scrutinized

Cheng Qian for a minute before saying in a mild tone, “Good boy.
Eventually, the broken ‘bloodline’ of our Fuyao Sect is linked up again.”

Cheng Qian was terrified at what he said.

In a split second, Master’s changed appearance, the seemingly dead weasel,
and Jiang Peng’s words about Master being half-dead… all those ins and
outs flashed across Cheng Qian’s mind and pieced together a fact, a brutal
fact. Cheng Qian understood the overtones of Lord Beiming’s meaningful
words almost in a twinkling of an eye.

He jerked his head around, staring in disbelief at his master who suddenly
became such a handsome man.

Muchun Zhenren put his hand upon Cheng Qian’s head, sighing, “If only
you can share some of your cleverness with your fourth junior brother—
yes, Xiao-Qian, your guess is right. The ‘bloodline’ of Fuyao Sect has
broken off since many years ago. And I’m a dead person.”

Cheng Qian clenched his teeth so hard that he released grinding sounds but
failed to say any word.

Muchun Zhenren paid no attention to that. He resumed with composure,

“The sect leader at that time—namely, my master—was at the critical
moment of his closed-door cultivation and had no time to handle other
affairs. During that period, his first apprentice, Jiang Peng, degenerated into
the devil way of ghostism and fled. I went trailing after him, but I
overestimated my abilities and became the first victim of his Soul-
Consuming Lamp. Fortunately, however, his ghost cultivation was still
immature back then, and a fragment of my primordial spirit wasn’t
completely refined. So, I escaped and fell into the body of a weasel spirit
who was dying because it had failed to overcome the Heavenly Tribulations
of lightning. And thus, I’ve had the opportunity to inherit and pass on the
Sect Leader’s Seal.”

Lord Beiming’s look held some sorrow. “You…”

Muchun Zhenren laughed. “I was coping fine with the weasel spirit’s body.
The only problem was that he was too greedy.”

“Aren’t you afraid that your primordial spirit might disperse from
exhaustion, and that you will never enter the cycle of reincarnation if you
possess a corpse as your body?” said Lord Beiming softly.
Muchun Zhenren gently shook his sleeves and took a sweeping look at his
feet. Then, smiling, he said in an indifferent air in imitation of Lord
Beiming, “Nothing serious.”

“Master, who split the portrait in the Library?” asked Cheng Qian quietly.

Muchun Zhenren was taken aback. “Didn’t I clean it up? Oof… it was
probably me. My primordial spirit had undergone the tortures of the bites of
ghosts in the Soul-Consuming Lamp, so I couldn’t help breeding grudges
after I escaped. In addition, the weasel spirit was a dead corpse; I hadn’t
gotten used to its body in the beginning. So there was a time when I was in
a state of delirium.”

He narrated those events which, if one studied them closely, were obviously
massively understated. But Cheng Qian just felt something choking his
chest. He threw his arms around Muchun Zhenren’s waist and buried his
head deep in Muchun’s bosom.

So warm… how come it was only a fragment of his primordial spirit?

Muchun continued, “I couldn’t even walk on legs when I first possessed the
weasel’s body. So I rolled and crawled, trying to get back and find Master.
However…”

Lord Beiming stood rooted to the ground, forming into a lonely shadow
against the light.

“I saw the Four Saints besieging Fuyao Mountain,” Muchun Zhenren said
to Cheng Qian. “Only then did I know that my master was in fact a once-in-
a-blue-moon devil. The Four Saints were the mightiest men at that time.
The battlefield stretched all the way from the Fuyao Mountain to the
Worriless Valley two hundred Li away—that’s where we are standing right
now—and their battle incurred the Heavenly Tribulation, which turned the
valley into a sea of fire. For the following three years, the earth was naked
of grass and empty of life. One of the Four Saints died and the others
sustained severe injuries. I guess if they didn’t pick the time when Master
was still in his seclusion, someone else might have died under that ancient
tree.”
Then he turned to Lord Beiming. “I didn’t know that you were already a
Beiming. Please forgive me for my ignorance, Master.”

Muchun Zhenren was deliberately careful with his narration. For some
reason, he didn’t mention any of the key points—like how did Jiang Peng
turn to an evil way? Why would he kill Muchun? How had Lord Beiming
embarked on this path? Who were these Four Saints? And what caused their
murder of Lord Beiming?

From start to finish, Muchun only said the course without any mention of
the causes.

In normal times, Cheng Qian would definitely interrogate his master on his
doubts. But now, he just couldn’t be bothered with that at all. He even failed
to breathe smoothly as though his chest was clogged up with cotton, making
him want to heave a big sob.

But Muchun Zhenren disengaged himself from Cheng Qian’s embrace,

gently but firmly as well. He bent and picked up a branch which
transformed into a wooden sword in his hand. Then he advanced to a
clearing, saying to Cheng Qian, “You’ve finished learning the second form;
now I’m going to show you the remaining three forms. Watch carefully.”

Cheng Qian had always nagged Muchun Zhenren to teach him swordplay,
yet invariably ended up being sent away with a pouch of candies. But now,
when Master finally offered to teach him, he didn’t feel excited about that
in the slightest.

He knew that Master was going to leave.

Cheng Qian stood dazed for a while. Out of the blue, tears burst out of his
eyes like floods rushing out of a dam. He held his breath and bit his lip
hard, trying in vain to stop the tears. Never had Cheng Qian cried like this.
Even when he was sold by his parents, he didn’t shed a single tear.
However, now he was crying as if there was no tomorrow.

For the first time in his life, Cheng Qian experienced this penetrating and
incurable pain which he was incapable of sustaining and enduring. It
smouldered in his heart, as well as over the dignity he’d tried to keep all the
time.

Puddle pulled Cheng Qian’s hem cautiously but was snubbed. So she
started blubbering as well.

Lord Beiming seemed to be amused. He asked, “Boy, weren’t you fearless

of the Heaven, the Earth, and the people? Why are you snivelling now?”

Cheng Qian endeavored desperately to hold back his cry. But he found that
though he could hold back his happiness and sadness, he couldn’t hold back
his tears. He cried and wiped his eyes, his vision keeping alternating
between being blurry and clear.

“Master, I’m not learning and you don’t teach me that, okay? You… you
don’t want us anymore?” Cheng Qian said in a voice strangled with sobs.

Muchun hung down his wooden sword a bit. He wanted to placate Cheng
Qian, but then he remembered that Cheng Qian wasn’t Han Yuan; he
wouldn’t be easily coaxed. After a long pause, he said, “It’s all the karma;
it’s my fate. Even if the today’s accident didn’t happen, I didn’t have many
years left. I can’t take care of you for a lifetime anyway.”

Muchun Zhenren stopped at this point. He knew this kid would split hairs
whatever he said, so he locked himself up in silence.

He swung the wooden sword horizontally in front of his chest and made a
neat opening move. This time, he didn’t read the absurd mnemonic rhyme,
nor did he intentionally slow his moves down.

The first form, the roc’s long flight3. The mettled youths, their ideals held
high, would reach the moon in the sky.

The second form, seek and pursue. Endless progress and pain lay in the
firm, masculine sword moves.

The third form, backfire. Though one gets everything he pursues, he

remains an ant on this vast land; whatever seems solid will eventually be
destroyed like the sand castle being destroyed by waves.

The fourth form, decline from prosperity. After ups and downs, still, no one
could run away from this fate.

The fifth form, return to trueness…

Cheng Qian couldn’t help thinking back on the words master had told him
—“ ‘death’ and ‘ascending to the Heaven’, is there any difference between
them?”

They were both people coming and going, nothing different at all.

Tears hadn’t dried on Cheng Qian’s face when Muchun Zhenren finished
practicing the full set of Fuyao Wooden Swordplay.

“Are you quite sure of that?” asked Muchun Zhenren in a tender tone.

Cheng Qian compressed his lips and exclaimed obstinately, “No!”

“Liar! I won’t show you again anyway.” Muchun Zhenren reached out his
hand and flicked Cheng Qian’s forehead. Presently his smile faded.
Regarding Cheng Qian, he said, “Xiao-Qian, do you remember the sect
rules? What does it say about dealing with sect members who brought
shame to our sect?”

Cheng Qian glanced at Lord Beiming with his bloodshot eyes, making no
response.

Muchun Zhenren said softly, “Those who committed unforgivable sins shall
be disposed of by their fellow disciples—that’s the reason why, even though
we have many betrayers since the foundation of our sect, we still have a
proper standing among other sects.”

Cheng Qian rubbed away his tears.

“Taoism tells us to let nature take its course, and that a cultivator should
stay true to his mission. Now that he has brought disaster, there is sure
punishment for him, as the Heaven always repays a crime,” said Muchun
Zhenren tranquilly.

Suddenly, the sleeves of his robe floated without wind. His face went
ghastly pale and there seemed to be a sparkle flashing across his eyebrows.

“I was in the helm of Fuyao Sect for eighty years, but I am truly guilty for
our ancestors and for you and your senior brother. Thus, I vowed to use my
three spiritual souls to protect our sect from three catastrophes. After that, I
will simply be flying ashes. So Xiao-Chun, you needn’t do that yourself,”
said Lord Beiming with equanimity on his face.

Hearing that, Muchun Zhenren didn’t telegraph gratitude. In effect, he

didn’t generate any particular feeling. He only answered stoically, “Master,
if I let you die a natural death, how would that do justice to those grieving
souls killed by you?”

His voice was smooth and overflowed with mildness as always. In Cheng
Qian’s mind, however, these were the iciest words that ever met his ears.

It was as though Muchun Zhenren had immersed all his emotions in cold
water, with not a hint of joy or pain emitting on the surface.

A line of very complicated charms swiftly flashed through the air,

glistening. That was what Li Yun had lauded to the skies: the miraculous
invisible charm.

Lord Beiming didn’t dodge or try to escape. He stood still in place, looking
with crinkled eyes at the transitory charm which soon integrated into the
natural world, saying, “To seal a soul with a soul.”

“My life is well worth it if I could seal one soul of Lord Beiming,” said
Muchun Zhenren smilingly.

Cheng Qian opened his eyes wide, and in the next second, he was shoved
off by a strong force. He reeled, and over he went, slipping into a coma for
a sliver of time.
By the time he opened his eyes again, Lord Beiming had gone. Cheng Qian
saw a thin wisp of black mist being twined by a watery golden light. In the
end, they disappeared into the rusty copper coin in Muchun Zhenren’s hand.

Only, the hand that was holding the copper coin—Muchun Zhenren’s entire
body was becoming transparent. He knelt and buried the coin by the
skeleton under the ancient tree before he beckoned Cheng Qian with a
smile.

Muchun Zhenren: “There was a seal on that weasel’s body. Go take it off.”

Cheng Qian seemed to be firmly resolved to act against Muchun, as he

remained motionless.

Muchun Zhenren’s smile gradually faded. He raised his hand, wanting to

stroke Cheng Qian’s head, only to find that it went directly through.

He said, “That is the seal of the sect leader of Fuyao Sect. Remember to
give it to your first senior brother when you get back and ask him to take
care of you guys in future. As for the swordplay, you really should work
harder on the second form.”

Finishing that, he gave Cheng Qian a look with deep emotion before
moving his lips. He said almost inaudibly, “I’m leaving. Farewell.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than his figure completely vanished

like a handful of broken light running into the dirt and disappearing.

The legend has it that “in former days there was a large tree called Chun
which had a spring and autumn each of eight hundred years.” So people use
“live as long as the Chun” to wish their parents a long life. However, human
beings, after all, were neither grass nor trees.

Muchun Zhenren buried that copper coin in the dirt, by which it seemed
that he’d sent Cheng Qian to a new start—every generation begins their
seeking and pursuing from the moment when they buried the last generation
into earth with their own hands.
1. a poultry sect: an unauthorized sect.
2. bazi: a Chinese astrological system to tell an individual’s fortune. See
more here.
3. used to describe someone who has a bright future.
 Volume Ⅱ Chapter 31

The light gradually broke through the clouds and cleared away the fog in
the valley.

Cheng Qian didn’t know how long he’d remained on his knees, nor did he
know how he should pick himself up or even where he should go.

Inside his brain were flashbacks of his master sheltering him from the rain,
his head-wagging chant, and the Fuyao Wooden Swordplay. Those sword
moves just kept repeating in his head, whether he wanted to watch or not.

And in the end, all that was left was the numbness and helplessness which
came from the loss of a loved one.

Cheng Qian was like a little bird that had come back from its first attempt at
flying and joyfully wanted to be praised, only to find that the nest was gone.
From this day on, he would never receive that praise he had yearned for,
even if, someday, he became an exceptional master of his abilities.

Cheng Qian did not want to admit his fright. It was only loneliness, he
thought.

It was not until this moment that Cheng Qian felt deep in his core that he
needed an enemy, something that, for the next decade, the decades after
that, or even for the rest of his life, would give him some kind of clear and
strong direction, and let him draw from this hatred an inexhaustible strength
that would anchor him, unswervingly, to his course.

Sadly, he didn’t have one.

His master had seen through him. He’d anticipated what Cheng Qian would
instinctually do in a time of helplessness, so he didn’t give Cheng Qian any
chance.

Not a single word had slipped his mouth regarding the entanglements
between him, Jiang Peng, the nameless Lord Beiming, and the Four Saints.
He’d buried all those stories in the earth along with that copper coin,
leaving not even a seed of hatred for Cheng Qian, thus forcing him to throw
away everything he could possibly rely on to pick himself up after crying.

At the same time, however, Muchun Zhenren did leave a little tail to him—
his junior sister who was howling until she was out of breath.

With Puddle’s current intelligence, she couldn’t quite comprehend what had
just happened. She was famished, so she looked around for her master but
couldn’t find him. There was only her senior brother who didn’t pay
attention to her at all.

Though she might be a sturdy child without a demanding temper, she could
no longer hold back her hunger, and so she cried. But she soon discovered
that her cry didn’t work; therefore, she switched to gnawing on the wooden
sword created by her master.

When Cheng Qian finally thought of his junior sister, she had dug several
pits in the wooden sword using her only five milk teeth.

They were truly milk teeth worthy of the Heavenly Monster!

Cheng Qian teetered, and he picked himself up by pressing on his knees.

Then he forced apart Puddle’s mouth with his hands. “Spit it out!”

“Ah ah!” Puddle spat out two chips of wood at him.

After that, she was carried to a riverside by her senior brother and was
forced to rinse her mouth. It was Puddle’s first time seeing her third senior
brother’s exasperated side. Then she threw a tantrum.

Cheng Qian shot a fierce glance at her. “Stop crying.”

“Ah ah ah!” Puddle screamed in protest.

Cheng Qian just passively let her cry and stared at her with a steady gaze.

Puddle cried for a while by his side. Then she found that there was no use in
crying like that at all. She didn’t know where Master had gone. Since it was
just the two of them, she didn’t even have anyone to whom she could tattle
on her senior brother. Therefore, she ceased to sob and sat there silently,
hoping that her third senior brother’s conscience would have him find some
food for her.

Even a fatty worm would also do!

Cheng Qian rescued the wooden sword whose edge had been bitten from
Puddle’s teeth and washed it clean in the water. He was not in the mood to
coax the child to not cry, so he just placed her by the river and warned her
seriously, “Sit still, don’t move.”

With that, he rolled his trousers up to his knees and fumbled to catch fish.

Puddle had one merit, and that was that she knew how to act when it came
to her own benefit. She quickly saw the prospect of a meal from Cheng
Qian’s actions, so she sat quietly by the riverside like a well-trained dog.

However, fish were not so easy to catch. Cheng Qian had never played
around when he was at home, let alone after he had gone to Fuyao Sect. So
he was truly bad at such activities. Every time those scaly creatures slipped
away from his hands, and would occasionally whip their tails, leaving a few
lacerations on Cheng Qian’s hands.

The day was getting dark. Eventually, Puddle couldn’t wait anymore. She
curled up and fell asleep with a finger in her mouth, feeling thirsty and
hungry.

Standing barefoot in the cold water, Cheng Qian took a look at her. He
straightened up his sore back and licked the wounds on his hands.

Master had said that one day he’d be able to soar up to the sky and dive into
the sea. But the cruel fact was that he couldn’t even catch a fish.
He didn’t know what plants in the Worriless Valley were poisonous, so he
dared not to pick the fruits and leaves. He didn’t have the courage to
provoke those beasts either, as he didn’t have a weapon with him and didn’t
want to become their dinner.

He’d always held others in contempt, feeling that he’d surely be a powerful
cultivator in the future. But now he had gotten stuck while simply trying to
get himself some food.

Gradually, the day had fallen completely dark. The surroundings were
alarmingly quiet. From far away in the forest came the roars of beasts.
Cheng Qian listened for a while and suddenly frowned. He scurried to the
shore, held up the sleeping Puddle, and clenched his wooden sword,
wondering where he should go to be safe in the night.

In the blink of an eye, the roars of the beasts had gotten closer. This wave
after wave of roars made Cheng Qian feel he was under fire from all
quarters, making him tense up from head to toe.

Cheng Qian didn’t dare to hesitate anymore. He carried Puddle and ran
upstream. But unfortunately, at that moment, a black shadow jumped out of
the forest and landed in front of Cheng Qian, getting in his way. The heavy
breathing sound was increasingly clear in the dark. A pair of green eyes
shot a sinister stare at the two delicious kids.

Cheng Qian came to a sudden halt right away. He stepped back with his
wooden sword in front of his chest.

The shrub around him stirred, and several other wolves quickly whipped
out, encircling Cheng Qian and Puddle closely. Every wolf was as large as a
foal, and they all eyeballed the two kids squarely with their fangs bared.

Puddle huddled up in Cheng Qian’s bosom, not daring to utter a sound. Her
lineage of the Monster Queen didn’t work as a deterrent at all. Presumably,
even though she was the descendant of an ancient mythological animal,
these hideous beasts wouldn’t be afraid of a cub who hadn’t been weaned at
all.
Cheng Qian stood emotionless in the encirclement of the wolves and lifted
his sword. He knew he should not show any trace of timidity in the face of
these creatures, for a mere second of hesitation would give them an opening
for tearing him and his junior sister into shreds.

Cheng Qian moved his wrist to get the opening move of Fuyao Wooden
Swordplay ready as he whispered to Puddle in his arm, “Where are your
wings? Fly us out of here.”

Puddle’s face reddened with bated breath. But perhaps because she was so
starved that she had lost strength or because she was just terrified by those
wolves, only a pair of palm-sized wings sprouted from her back, so small
that they could only be used as a fan when they flapped.

Cheng Qian’s heart sank. As expected, upon the sight of Puddle’s wings,
that leader wolf perceived the weakness and vacillation in Cheng Qian’s
heart. Suddenly it crouched and growled as though giving an order. Seeing
its move, Cheng Qian tightened the muscles in his arms to the extreme.
Next, he heard a gust of sinister wind blowing from behind, then he swiftly
turned around without thinking and exerted the third move of the Roc’s
Long Flight in an altered form. The broken wooden sword made a sharp arc
in the air and precisely evaded the beast’s claw to hit a fierce chop in the
jaw of that wolf.

Cheng Qian had worked hard on his swordsmanship. At least in terms of

the two forms he’d practiced, he far exceeded his first senior brother, who
only practiced without thorough understanding.

The leader wolf’s eyes gleamed with cunning as it gave another command.
Two wolves lurking aside cropped up and blocked Cheng Qian’s escape.

From the beginning, Cheng Qian had already been in a half-dead state from
his grief, pain, and despair, and now in face of the wolf’s rapacious gaze,
his fury finally overflowed.

On a wild impulse of anger, Cheng Qian went up to meet it head-on. This

impulse accidentally aligned with his insight of being fearless.
His frame of mind and the swordplay brought out the best in each other. It
almost seemed as if a light glinted at the edge of the wooden sword and as
soon as the Roc’s long Flight finished, and then the sword hilt went out of
Cheng Qian’s hand—that was the Tide Swordplay he’d been practicing for
fun. He hit the hilt with his elbow and pushed the sword straight into the
wolf’s mouth.

The relentless sword tip resoundingly clashed into a fang. Cheng Qian’s
arm scraped against the wolf’s teeth, his sleeve being torn into two parts
and a one-cun deep laceration forming from his wrist to his elbow.

That wolf howled to its death, and Cheng Qian’s wooden sword broke.

However, another wolf’s claws had arrived, coming at Puddle’s head.

Cheng Qian shifted Puddle to the other hand with the suddenness of a
thunderbolt, and despite his sword being broken, he swiped at the wolf’s
nose with the remaining half. Heavily mauled, the wolf toppled on its back,
the impact sending Cheng Qian several Chi backwards.

The blood which ran from Cheng Qian’s wounded arm stained Puddle’s
body, its smell making her face dreadfully ashen as she trembled with
extreme fright. But before Cheng Qian could comfort her, he felt the weight
in his arm grow heavier, and the next thing he knew, he had been lifted into
the air—Puddle had managed to unfold her wings in the nick of time.

Without any delay, the Heavenly Monster rushed into the sky, flapping her
great wings, the wind throwing that leader wolf into the air.

The leader wolf hadn’t thought this would happen. It snarled and sprang
toward Cheng Qian’s leg, but pitifully, it was already out of reach. The
leader wolf sank back and circled around in anger.

With the thought of killing still over his head, Cheng Qian cast his gaze
down at the leader wolf by the moonlight. The wolf was scared stiff for a bit
and then withdrew its front legs with its tail tucked in, whining.

Puddle didn’t fly too far with Cheng Qian. She was too young after all, and
shortly after passing the valley, she got worn out, and they plunged toward a
hill, floundering.

Biting his teeth, Cheng Qian propped himself up against the remaining half
of his wooden sword and tore a piece of cloth off from his garment to stem
the bleeding, lest it call more beasts over.

Right now, Cheng Qian had an acute pain in the wound, a body chilled by
dew, and a junior sister who couldn’t take care of herself, yet he still had to
make fire, find food, decide on a place where they could spend the night,
and constantly stay alert to the environment.

As he walked through the crisis-ridden Worriless Valley, Cheng Qian found

himself robbed of time to mull over the entanglements between master and
those demonic cultivators or to dwell on the sense of loneliness and
vagueness of future.

The pressing matter of the moment was to walk out of this valley and take
junior sister and the Sect Leader’s Seal back.

On the shore of East Sea, people from Azure Dragon Island had finally
arrived late, after the tumult had already subsided.

As Muchun Zhenren had never told his apprentices what kind of

organization people from Azure Dragon Island were, nor did he introduce
any powerful cultivators to them, the idea of pandering to them, or at the
very least greeting them, didn’t come to Yan Zhengming at all.

The stormy sea hadn’t calmed down. Yan Zhengming asked Taoist children
to send out all the small boats on the ship to search.

Li Yun and Han Yuan gathered in the cabin, rifling through the piles of
books that Cheng Qian had taken out with him, while Yan Zhengming
fretfully paced around while instructing, “Look for books about charms.
Han Yuan, not that stock; that’s still bundled, he may not have read it. Hurry
up!”

“Don’t rush me. I find it, likely…” Li Yun lifted a hand. “First Senior
Brother, is it this one?”
Yan Zhengming immediately threw aside the book in his hand and went up
to grab that book, inspecting the exposition regarding tracking charms
carefully. “What the heck… is this it?”

“What does it say?” said the worried Han Yuan.

“It says…”

Just then, a Taoist boy burst in, panting, “Young Master, there’s a Zhenren
asking for you.”

“What’s the fuss! I’m busy looking for people!” Yan Zhengming waved his
hand without looking up and read to Li Yun and Han Yuan the annotation
on that book, “It says that the tracking charm and its maker share a
connection. I carved it myself, but it might as well be like a fart since I felt
nothing at all after finishing it. What the hell is that connection?”

Li Yun’s face changed color when he heard that. “Senior Brother…”

“Speak straight! What do you want to say?”

“Have you ever considered, that the tracking charm we made was
unsuccessful?”

Yan Zhengming was brought up short. After a good while, he mumbled,

“But Copper Coin…”

With a gesture of chagrin, Yan Zhengming smacked himself on his forehead

—It was all Cheng Qian’s fault, he’d always been acting like, “though I
never showed off, I’m reliable,” causing him to trust this novice brat
without even thinking!

Had this bastard been reliable, would he be missing now?

At this moment, another Taoist boy ran in with a tattered ribbon in his hand.

“Young Master, they found this…” said the Taoist child in utter panic.
“I tied this around junior sister’s waist—the tracking charm that had been
wrapped inside it is missing!” Li Yun grabbed it over, his pupils contracted.

These young boys gazed at each other in speechless consternation inside the
cabin.

Suddenly, a gruff female voice interposed, “Tracking charm? What tracking

charm?”

Li Yun turned back and saw the Tang Wanqiu Zhenren, who looked like a
drowned rat as she glanced at that ribbon.

What was she coming here for?

Slightly astounded, Li Yun greeted her with the etiquette of a junior, “Tang
Zhenren.”

Yan Zhengming goggled ferociously at the first Taoist child who had come
to inform him, rebuking him as he walked past Li Yun, “Why didn’t you
notify me of senior’s arrival? What good are you?”

Tang Wanqiu waved him off indifferently and took the ribbon from Li Yun’s
hand. She was silent for a moment before asking, “This isn’t your master’s,
right?”

At this juncture, Yan Zhengming had no patience to chat with her. But as
Tang Wanqiu was sort of a senior to them, he had to hold back the fret
which had manifested in his knitted brows and said, “That’s our junior
sister’s. She’s too young and we were afraid that she might get lost, so we
tied that to her just in case—please forgive us for being bad hosts, as our
master is missing right now. Or would you fancy a cup of tea?”

The tone of the last sentence sounded almost like an order for the guest to
leave.

Luckily, Tang Wanqiu was a careless person without a subtle mind. So she
didn’t hear the discourtesy in his voice at all.
Tang Wanqiu said, “I suggest you give up. A charm made by you should
have already been blown into bits by those two demons.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

She had to rub it in. Did this woman purposely come here to mock them?

Sometimes there was some truth to judging people on the basis of

appearance. When talking about a person, especially a woman, who
disregarded their image—unless they had some kind of story behind them,
they were mostly people of Tang Zhenren’s type: maverick and incapable of
reading faces.

Looking at Tang Wanqiu’s square face with a jaw wider than her forehead,
Yan Zhengming was overwhelmed by moodiness, pondering how he could
send her away as soon as possible. But before he could decide how to start,
Tang Wanqiu cut straight to the point without saying any sympathetic
platitudes, as though she were even more impatient than him, “The Lord of
Azure Dragon Island asks me to take you to him; come with me.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Li Yun knew his senior brother’s temper well. Fearing that he would make
impertinent remarks, Li Yun hurried forward and warned Yan Zhengming in
an undertone, “Senior Brother.”

To his surprise, however, Yan Zhengming didn’t hop about mad or show
any sign of anger. After a moment of thinking with his eyes downcast, he
asked, “Why would the lord of the island see us juniors? Does he know our
master?”

Tang Wanqiu’s bushy eyebrows cocked, every single hair rising as if

saying, “Obviously. Why else?”

Yan Zhengming’s heart thumped. He hastily said, “But our master is now
missing. May I ask the lord of the island for a favor…”

“Already looking. Let’s go.”

 Volume Ⅱ Chapter 32

Azure Dragon Island was a typical celestial mountain that was ablaze with
flowers throughout the seasons. When looking from the sea, the view was
that of an island perennially permeated by a thin fog, like a peachtopia
floating on the ocean, where the cultivators dressed either in sharp suits or
in graceful Taoist robes.

The lord of Azure Dragon Island was counted among the Four Saints. He’d
been in secluded cultivation for years on end and rarely revealed himself.
Quite unexpectedly, however, he now came out especially to see Yan
Zhengming, and with a genial attitude as though treating his own junior, at
that. Perhaps to show sympathy for Yan Zhengming’s upset, the lord of the
island didn’t talk much to him. After providing Zhengming’s
accommodations, the lord generously stated that all the resources on Azure
Dragon Island were at Yan Zhengming’s disposal until he found his master
and junior brother and sister.

Of course, other cultivators couldn’t flagrantly gossip over that like

uneducated villagers. They did so beneath the veil of secrecy.

That was quite understandable, though. Numerous people piled in to kiss up

to the lord of Azure Dragon Island, who didn’t bother to show up even at
the decennial Celestial Market. Just what had these kids done to merit his
good graces?

Those brats only knew how to throw around their wealth, to say nothing of
their low cultivation levels, and they still hadn’t shown any restraint even
after they’d come to the Azure Dragon Island. They were fiercely
dislikeable.
But Yan Zhengming knew nothing about these undercurrents, and couldn’t
even be bothered to care about it. The lord of the island had asked for
Cheng Qian’s and Puddle’s bazi, and sent countless cultivators out on
search, yet still received no news whatsoever for three days straight.

Yan Zhengming didn’t know how he had made it through those three days.

On the morning of the fourth day, Yue-er, one of Yan Zhengming’s maids,
gently pushed open the door of his room. She had a set of tools for combing
his hair in hand, and had planned to first burn the incense and then wake the
young master up, but was instead surprised to find that Yan Zhengming was
not in the room.

Yue-er was scared. She thought that she had gotten up late, and after
preparing herself for a scolding, she walked inside hesitantly only to find
that the bed had been made up by a Taoist boy, and the person living here
was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Young Master?” asked Yue-er hurriedly.

“I heard that they’d gotten news about the sect leader, so Young Master got
up early this morning and went to see them,” answered the Taoist boy.

Yue-er stood dazed for a bit—the Yans had good ethics and never
maltreated the servants, and it was only that they had spoiled Yan
Zhengming. Yue-er was born to a servant of the Yan family, but as she was
a girl, she was brought up almost like a half miss. In normal times on the
Fuyao Mountain, her only job was to comb young master’s hair, and
nothing else. Even when the two devils had fought on the sea, she was
safely seated inside the cabin despite the raging storm outside. This was her
first time feeling human panic.

Holding a sandalwood box to her bosom, Yue-er asked again, “D-did he say
when he’d return?”

The Taoist boy looked back at this insecure little girl and involuntarily
toned down his voice, saying, “He didn’t. The situation is still quite unclear
right now.
“This is just between us—last night, I heard Young Master speaking to
second martial uncle. It’s likely that we won’t be able to go back to the
Fuyao Mountain anytime soon if things go wrong. In which case, you have
to keep in mind that the people on this island are all cultivators; be their
conducts good or bad, they are people with powers. It wouldn’t take much
more effort for them to kill us than to pinch an ant. Be sure to not run
around or to displease them, clear?” added the Taoist boy in a low voice.

The lord of Azure Dragon Island seemed to be very closely connected to

Fuyao Sect. He actually had considered the possibility that Muchun
Zhenren and his disciples might be around the Worriless Valley and had
sent his men there to wait. And yet for some reason, none of those
cultivators dared to enter the valley to comb that area.

After three days’ waiting, they eventually saw Cheng Qian and Puddle
come out.

Cheng Qian was as miserable as he could be at that moment. Those

cultivators hadn’t expected that Muchun Zhenren had gone and that the two
kids had actually walked out of the valley all on their own.

Beasts and small monsters could be seen everywhere in there, yet they still
made it out alive. Some soul in the Heaven must be blessing them.

This young boy who should have been tortured by fright, however, was not
so easy to deal with as they expected.

Around evening, Cheng Qian thanked a female cultivator who had brought
him a bowl of vegetable congee, which she had gotten from a nearby
village. After tasting it first, Cheng Qian pulled Puddle over, took a
spoonful of congee, and put it near her mouth. The last three days were
indeed a purgatory for Puddle and had made her a starving ghost.

Puddle opened her mouth wide to eat, but Cheng Qian abruptly withdrew
his hand, and Puddle bit the air.

She stared at him pitifully, looking as though tears were going to trickle
down her face.
Cheng Qian whispered, “Remember what I said? This is yours if you do.”

Puddle hastily nodded while making a bow, her chubby hands folded in
front, and then she got her very first bite of food in these recent days.

A casual observer would have taken it to be a naughty senior brother

teasing his junior sister—but in actuality, the bow part was Puddle’s
instinctive self-performance.

Upon their meeting with this group of strangers, Cheng Qian had
immediately ordered Puddle to not show her wings in front of anyone from
this moment on.

“Why did your sect accept such a small kid as a disciple?” asked the female
cultivator from where she stood at the side, probably thinking this plump
girl to be amusing.

Cheng Qian gave her a thin smile. “Once, my junior brother snuck off the
mountain and picked her up on his way to the market. Harvests were
probably bad in recent years, and her family might not have been able to
afford to raise her. My junior brother found her quite pathetic, so he brought
her back—you know, where 10 or 20 years are just a brief moment in the
entire life of a cultivator, it’s long enough for her to grow from a babbling
baby to a big girl. So it doesn’t matter that she’s small now; time flies.”

The female cultivator couldn’t help joking to him, “You yourself haven’t
lived past that ‘brief moment’, yet you’re talking like an adult. By the way,
I think you’d better go back with us to treat your wounds; even if your
senior brothers came riding flying mounts and travelled day and night, it
will take them at least one or two days.”

“I would go with you if I were alone. But since I’m together with my junior
sister, she might cause you trouble. So we’ll just wait for our senior
brothers. Before my master left, he had asked me to listen to first senior
brother. I’m totally clueless as to what to do right now, and I can’t decide
myself,” replied Cheng Qian as he wiped off the congee that slipped from
Puddle’s mouth.
The female cultivator: “…”

This brat didn’t seem clueless to her in the slightest.

Perhaps because of his young age, Cheng Qian was, in reality, not good at
dealing with people. He would rarely say anything of his own initiative and
wouldn’t try to form ties with others, either. He was admirably courteous,
but he was also as stubborn as a mule.

Cheng Qian had wounds all over his body, some from the beasts’ scraping
and biting, some from falls and fractures. The dried blood had glued the
strip of cloth around his arm tightly to his skin.

In theory, Cheng Qian should have been exhausted to the point of falling
over; after going through the Worriless Valley, one would be at least
seriously wounded, if not dead—especially if he was carrying a babbling
little girl with him. But contrary to expectations, Cheng Qian appeared as if
nothing had happened. He would sooner sleep in the open near the
Worriless Valley than leave with them; and as for what had happened in the
valley, he just clammed up about it and wouldn’t say a word no matter how
people asked him.

Yan Zhengming finally arrived when the moon rose to the top of the willow
tree.

He came alone, not bringing Li Yun or Han Yuan, or even any Taoist child.
He opened the curtains and jumped off the roc-drawn carriage before it had
even stopped moving.

After being haunted by anxiety for days on end, anger had been bubbling up
in Yan Zhengming’s stomach. But the miserable sight of Cheng Qian’s
bloody body drained half of it, and the remaining half spent itself after he
failed to find Muchun Zhenren’s figure.

Yan Zhengming ran over. He hastily caught Puddle, who jumped into his
arms, and then took Cheng Qian’s hand and asked eagerly, “What
happened? Why did you become like this? Where have you been these
days? Where’s Master? Why did he leave you two here alone?”
No reply was given. Cheng Qian simply stared at him in a daze.

Feeling butterflies in his stomach, Yan Zhengming said with his heart
clanging, “Xiao-Qian, what the hell happened?”

Remaining silent, Cheng Qian roved his gaze over Yan Zhengming’s face
and then over those strange cultivators around them.

These cultivators were from the famous Azure Dragon Island, after all.
They gathered straight off that the two martial brothers had something to
say, so they mindfully took their leave.

Only then did Cheng Qian release a breath. Using his uninjured arm, he
fished a small seal out of his bosom and gave it to Yan Zhengming, saying
in a barely audible voice, “This is the Sect Leader’s Seal, First Senior
Brother, Master asked me to give it to you.”

For a long time, Yan Zhengming’s mind went blank. When it struck him
what that meant, he jerked backward, his face suddenly drained of color.

The seal on Cheng Qian’s bloodstained and dusty palm was like a dreadful
monster to him, and his eyes darkened with fear.

But what Cheng Qian was going to say pursued Yan Zhengming to the
brutal end.

“Master’s dead,” said Cheng Qian. “He said, you are the leader of Fuyao
Sect from now on.”

“No…” Yan Zhengming shook his head by instinct. He frantically pushed

Cheng Qian aside and dissolved into sputter. “I’m not… y-y-you take this
away, I don’t want it! What are you talking about, how can Master be
dead?”

“I watched him die.”

“No way!” Yan Zhengming goggled, nothing coming out of his mouth but
stout denial. “No way!”
Cheng Qian went silent. He continued holding out the Sect Leader’s Seal
while watching Yan Zhengming with a deep gaze, the grief on his face so
heavy that it felt wrong on the face of such a young boy.

“It’s real,” he muttered. “Senior Brother, it’s rea…”

Cheng Qian hadn’t finished speaking before his head suddenly tilted
sideways, and he collapsed to the ground without warning.

Yan Zhengming subconsciously reached out his hand to catch him, and
through that contact, a grisly bloodstain rubbed onto his white sleeve.

Cheng Qian’s body was freezing cold, and Yan Zhengming nearly thought
he had stopped breathing. He turned Cheng Qian over in a hurry, reaching
out two fingers to feel Cheng Qian’s breath. But his fingers were shaking so
hard that he didn’t get a result for a long time.

Puddle usually didn’t utter much sound, for she could not speak yet.
Therefore, at this moment, she had no way other than crying to express her
feelings—in recent few days, she had almost used up all the tears she had
accumulated since her birth.

Yan Zhengming’s ears were filled with buzz and his head was a blank. He
gripped and tried to heat up Cheng Qian’s hand, but it remained icily cold.
For a moment, all he knew was to keep mechanically repeating, “Don’t cry,
Puddle, don’t cry.”

He had no clue how long he had knelt rigidly on the ground—maybe a long
time, maybe just a few seconds, until someone grasped his shoulder and
shook him back to himself. Yan Zhengming looked up blankly and saw a
nameless cultivator looking at him in worry.

Yan Zhengming thought his countenance must be paler than a ghost’s, for
he found the cultivator seemed to have misunderstood something as he
subconsciously did the same thing as Yan Zhengming—he reached out a
finger to feel Cheng Qian’s breath. A few seconds later, the cultivator let
out a sigh of relief. He looked up and said, “He’s breathing. I have some
pills and medicine at my place. Don’t worry, it may not be so serious.”
Yan Zhengming nodded and bit his own tongue fiercely. The acute sting and
the blood smell pulled him completely back from the stupor. He pulled
himself together and took the Sect Leader’s Seal from Cheng Qian, holding
it tightly in his hand. Then he bent to pick Cheng Qian up while saying to
Puddle, “Can you walk on your own?”

Puddle cautiously stood on her feet and stretched her arm to get a grip of
Yan Zhengming’s garment.

After a day and a night’s travel, the roc carried them back to the Azure
Dragon Island. Being at his wits’ end, Yan Zhengming felt suffocated.
Rationally, he knew what Cheng Qian said was most probably true. Much
more often than not, Master treated them with excessive indulgence and
inadequate strictness. As long as he was still breathing, there was no chance
that he would leave Cheng Qian and Puddle alone at such a dangerous
place.

Li Yun and Han Yuan had been anxiously awaiting Yan Zhengming’s return
on Azure Dragon Island, and as soon as they saw him, they rushed up.

“What happened to Xiao-Qian?”

“Where’s Master?”

“Ah, why didn’t Master come back with you?”

“Where did you find them?”

“I don’t know!” Yan Zhengming strode past his junior brothers, the
restlessness in his heart making him want to scream. “Don’t ask me! Shut
up! Just wait for him to wake up!”

But Cheng Qian remained unconscious. For one thing, he was still
wounded; for another, he definitely hadn’t gotten any rest for the last few
days, as he had to look out for Puddle in the Worriless Valley.

Yan Zhengming stayed immovably by Cheng Qian’s side. In the beginning,

he hoped and prayed for Cheng Qian to wake, and was on the edge of his
seat, desperately wanting to know what exactly occurred in the Worriless
Valley. But the longer it lasted, the more fearful he became.

As soon as he closed eyes, he would remember the scene where Cheng

Qian was covered in blood and looked deeply at him while telling him
Master’s death, which deprived him of sleep.

In such a state of agitation, an idea naturally formed in Yan Zhengming’s

mind. He thought, “I may just go home and be a simple young master.”

Once this idea flashed into his head, it soon took root and dominated his
thoughts.

Right! Anyway, his family was rich enough to ensure his life of
extravagance and pleasure. Why should he cultivate? Why should he seek
the Tao?

As for junior brothers and sister, he could take them home together. They
were free to do anything they wanted, whether to continue practicing
martial arts or to study for official ranks. All they would need was only a
few pairs of chopsticks, after all.

Making him the sect leader?—don’t joke. The sole job he was competent
for in his life was to be a young master!

He couldn’t even make a perfect primary talisman, not to mention his

unremarkable swordsmanship. And forget about the formidable masters on
Azure Dragon Island, even their errand Taoist boys had higher cultivation
levels than him. If Yan Zhengming became the sect leader, what would the
sect be like?

Thinking that, Yan Zhengming bounced to feet and called in a Taoist boy,
“Zheshi! Zheshi!”

Zheshi trotted in front of him. “Young Master.”

“Fetch me a writing brush and paper, I’ll write home,” ordered Yan
Zhengming in an urgent tone. “Pack up our things and get the ship ready.
As soon as Xiao-Qian wake up, I’ll go bid farewell to the Lord of Azure
Dragon Island.”

Zheshi was stupefied. “Young Master, are we going back to Fuyao

Mountain?”

Yan Zhengming: “What Fuyao Mountain? Home!”

“Young Master, what about the sect…” said Zheshi, seized by

astonishment.

Yan Zhengming waved his hand. “There’s no Fuyao Sect anymore. It’s
dissolved, you know? Be quick, we’ll set off in a couple of days.”

Zheshi ran away as if to escape.

Two days had passed by the time Cheng Qian woke up. When he tried to
move a bit, a hand immediately fell on top of his forehead. A familiar
fragrance of orchids came swelling over, but somehow this smell had
thinned a lot. Cheng Qian moved his lips and said soundlessly, “Senior
Brother.”

His throat hurt so much that he lost his voice.

Yan Zhengming helped him sit up and gave him a bowl of water without
saying a word.

Cheng Qian finished it up in one swallow and only then faintly asked,
“Where’s junior sister?”

“Yue-er and other maids are looking after her.”

In a daze, Cheng Qian’s forehead pinched, and he asked again, “The Sect
Leader’s Seal… did I give it to you?”

Yan Zhengming pulled out a string from his neck, and there was a small
seal tied to it.
Cheng Qian’s muddled and tense look finally eased a bit, but soon tiredness
crept up to his face.

Fuyao Sect had always had chaotic days. Older ones didn’t know how to
humor younger ones; younger ones showed no respect for older ones. It felt
like it was just yesterday that the two of them had a quarrel, yet today when
they faced each other, everything was as different as if a lifetime had
passed.

Yan Zhengming sighed and asked softly, “Are you hungry?”

Cheng Qian shook his head. He sat in bed, dazed, after a while, broke the
quietness in the room. “Master, Junior Sister, and I, we got there because of
the flawed talisman we made that night.”

Yan Zhengming didn’t interrupt him. He sat there silently, hearing Cheng
Qian out.

Cheng Qian’s strength hadn’t recovered. On and off, it took him a good half
hour to make the whole thing clear. But after that, Yan Zhengming couldn’t
say anything for a long time.

The candle flickered, the light somewhat burning. Yan Zhengming came
back to earth and straightened up with all his strength. He suddenly felt the
Sect Leader’s Seal on his neck was a thousand tons heavy, almost weighing
down his neck.

He stood up and gently placed a hand on Cheng Qian’s head. In his

tenderest voice ever, Yan Zhengming said, “I’ll have someone get you a
bowl of congee. Eat some before applying the medicine.”

Cheng Qian nodded tamely.

Yan Zhengming turned to walk outside, saying to himself inwardly,

“Alright, now that I know what happened and he has woken up, we can go
home tomorrow.”
Home was the best. You would only have to hold out your hand to be
dressed and open your mouth to be fed, no need to practice swordplay in the
early morning or to exercise cultivation methods in the late night.

Just as Yan Zhengming reached the door, his heart heavy, Cheng Qian
suddenly uttered, “Hold on, Senior Brother. You didn’t discard my books,
did you? Can you have someone bring me some sword books?”

Yan Zhengming’s hand, which had touched the door, paused all at once. He
stood ramrod straight with his back towards Cheng Qian, as though his
entire body had been frozen.

“Anything wrong?” Cheng Qian was perplexed. “Did you throw them
away?”

“You can’t even get up, why do you want to read sword books?” inquired
Yan Zhengming, his voice hoarse.

“Martial Grandfather said we linked up Fuyao Sect’s broken bloodline,”

Cheng Qian said. “The bloodline won’t break just because I can’t get up—
and Master also asked me to work harder on swordsmanship.”

Yan Zhengming stood transfixed for a long time before he suddenly turned
around, walked back, and swept Cheng Qian into his arms.

The Sect Leader’s Seal wedged in Yan Zhengming’s clavicle, hurting him.
He thought, “Go to hell! This sect is not dissolved. I am the sect leader, I
am not dead!”

He was holding Cheng Qian tightly, desperately, his whole body slightly
trembling from stiffened muscles. For a moment, Cheng Qian thought that
he must be crying.

Cheng Qian waited long for Yan Zhengming’s tears. But after a while had
passed, what he received were comforting words which first senior brother
spoke into his ear.
“It’s okay,” Yan Zhengming said, “It’s okay, Xiao-Qian. Senior brother is
here.”
 Volume II Chapter 33

Li Yun tripped on the doorstep of Cheng Qian’s room, the pile of worn
books nearly flying out of his hands. But before he could exclaim in
surprise, someone else in the room had done that for him—inside the room,
Cheng Qian held a needle and was pricking the blisters on Yan
Zhengming’s hands one after the other.

Cheng Qian’s moves were very neat. Insert the needle, slightly shake it,
pinch the blister, and then it was done. Cheng Qian deftly and swiftly
repeated the routine, tormenting his delicate Sect Leader Senior Brother and
making him holler in pain, “Be gentle! Cheng Qian, what were you, a
porter!? Ah—” 1

“No. I was probably a pig butcher,” said Cheng Qian apathetically.

“Show some fraternal respect… Ouch!” Yan Zhengming almost shot off the
chair. “Who gives a damn about the sword, I am not practicing anymore!”

Li Yun hurriedly closed the door tight, in case the last bit of dignity of
Fuyao Sect be lost.

For the very first time, Young Master Yan… I mean, Sect Leader Yan, got
blisters from practicing swordplay. He suffered for it. Thus he spewed a
string of swear words, not giving a damn that he lost his face in front of his
young junior brothers.

In the corner, Han Yuan observed Yan Zhengming with trepidation, looking
as though the Fuyao Wooden Swordplay had left some shadows in his heart.

“I just came across this,” explained Li Yun, spreading out the pile of books
on the desk while trying to ignore the Sect Leader’s howl of pain. “They are
the annals of Azure Dragon Island, in which are recorded several major
events regarding every renowned sect through the years. Some of them
mentioned us.”

“Mentioned us? What does it say?” asked Han Yuan, craning his neck.

“The earliest record is dated to the establishment of Azure Dragon Island.

An elder of Fuyao Sect along with two disciples came to extend
congratulations on behalf of the sect leader,” Li Yun said. “His name was
mentioned as the very first among the list of guests, which seemed quite
honored…”

Yan Zhengming hissed from a prick and dismissed Li Yun’s words with a
wave of his hand. “Skip the prosperity in early days and jump to the part
where we began to peter out.”

Li Yun returned to flipping the pages. “As I recall… Oh, here it is. For
some reason, after returning from the Celestial Market, the sixth sect leader
of Fuyao Sect suddenly announced that he was going to simplify the sect,
and that only two disciples were allowed for each person. His successor,
however, abolished this rule and accepted a total of eighteen disciples.
These disciples fought and schemed against each other, and as a result, few
people survived the competition for the position of the sect leader. That’s
when the sect gradually anguished.”

“Really?” As he asked, Yan Zhengming took out the Sect Leader’s Seal.
“Anyone of you wants this? Just take it away. I don’t want these hardships,
I’m going to pack up and go home.”

Nobody paid any attention to him.

Li Yun buried himself in those musty old books, leafing through them as he
said, “I assume that that’s the time when the sect rules changed to forbid
internal strife. And after that… our sect produced quite a few demonic
cultivators, including even two Lord Beimings…”

“Three,” Cheng Qian corrected him.

Li Yun sighed, “Alright, three then—but what’s even worse, the annals also
recorded a senior of our sect who was a devout believer of astrology. He
saw all cultivation methods and sword techniques as trifling skills and
taught his disciples nothing but astrology. In his generation, even the Fuyao
Wooden Swordplay was nearly lost. There was another senior who was
keen on traveling. It’s said that during his time at the helm, his last disciple
had only met him once in his entire life… But the one who had hid Fuyao
Sect from people’s sight in the real sense was in fact our Martial
Grandfather. But there aren’t many accounts about him. It only mentioned
that he was always in secluded cultivation and kept to himself. Every time
the Celestial Market opened, he’d send Master and… you-know-who here.”

Speaking of which, Li Yun lifted his head and said, “I say, Fuyao Sect had
actually been at the head of the Top Ten Sects back then, despite all that.”

Yan Zhengming was defeated. “Now I see. Our sect had a distant origin, a
long development, and abounded in demonic cultivators and all types of
freaks. What kind of illustrious sect are we? —as far as I am concerned, the
reason why our sect can struggle on till today was probably because some
worried ancestor was blessing us in Heaven.”

“What shall we do then? Pack up and go home?” asked Han Yuan tactlessly.

Cheng Qian and Li Yun glared at him at the same time.

“I wasn’t the first one to say that. It was First Senior Brother!” screamed
Han Yuan, feeling unjustly treated.

“Just now I was summoned by the Lord of Azure Dragon Island; he invited
us to stay here for some time,” announced Yan Zhengming slowly as he
leaned against a table. “He said there will be lectures after the Celestial
Market and that he had kept seats for us.”

“How long is ‘some time’? Are we not going back to Fuyao Mountain?”
asked Li Yun, somewhat antsy.
“I’m not sure,” said Yan Zhengming with biting sarcasm. “That Tang
Zhenren looks like she has been a beggar for two or three decades, yet they
still say that she has only traveled outside for ‘some time’.”

Li Yun unconsciously nibbled his fingers and said, “But I heard that the lord
of the island had retired from society for a long time. Why would he
suddenly want us to stay?”

Yan Zhengming said, “I don’t know. It’s said that he and Master have got
history.”

For years, Yan Zhengming had secluded himself on the mountain and was
hence unworldly. In addition, Master’s exhortations before leaving the
mountain just ran off him like water off a duck’s back. So at this moment,
Yan Zhengming basically knew next to nothing and dared not to consult
others. Meanwhile, there were so many things running over his head that
after this period of time, he was utterly fatigued both mentally and
physically.

“Copper Coin.” Yan Zhengming gave Cheng Qian a kick. “Put down your
burin and raise your head and say something.”

That move interrupted Cheng Qian and dispersed the qi around his hand,
causing the talisman to turn to scrap.

Cheng Qian frugally switched to an ordinary burin and shaved off the
notches on the talisman, saying insipidly, “Say what?”

Since he broke out of the Worriless Valley with Puddle, Cheng Qian had
done nothing but practice swordsmanship and cultivate. Whenever someone
came to him, there was sure to be either a wooden sword or burin in his
hand.

Because of that, Yan Zhengming had tried several times to stop him, nearly
getting into a fight over it, but Cheng Qian simply didn’t take it seriously.

Only then did Yan Zhengming realize how helpless Master had felt for them
when he was alive.
Cheng Qian cleaned up the wood shavings and unhurriedly said, “Do we
have anything that others would covet? Sect leader senior brother’s beauty?
Don’t flatter yourself.”

His stiff and cold words dejected his martial brothers and effectively
terminated this brief meeting. Li Yun and Yan Zhengming exchanged a
glance of resignation, not knowing what they should do with this third
junior brother. After all, neither of them had witnessed Master’s death.

Yan Zhengming signalled Li Yun with a wink. Li Yun took the hint and left
with Han Yuan.

Yan Zhengming, on the other hand, stayed in Cheng Qian’s room. He

casually picked out a book of the latest record about Fuyao Sect and started
reading it silently by Cheng Qian’s side. Both of them paid no attention to
each other until dusk, when Xueqing came in with a lunch box. Xueqing
took a surprised look at Yan Zhengming, who was still reluctant to leave.
“Young… Sect Leader.”

“Bring my things over, I’ll live here for a few days,” ordered Yan
Zhengming with perfect composure, disregarding Cheng Qian’s expression
which seemed to be saying, ‘Why haven’t you gotten lost?’

Cheng Qian’s indifferent face began to crack.

Without consulting with Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming said directly to

Xueqing, “I’m afraid he’ll take Master’s death too hard, so I’ll stay here to
watch him a few days.”

Cheng Qian had a constipated look on his face. After a moment, he

squeezed a sentence out of his mouth with great effort, “Senior Brother, you
worry too much. I’m quite good.”

“What I say goes.” Yan Zhengming turned him down tersely and stood up
to move about under Cheng Qian’s scared gaze. He was prepared to give
Cheng Qian a ‘great time’.
Plainly, Yan Zhengming had mastered the knack of being a sect leader—
when it came to practicing swordsmanship, he would kick up a row,
shouting that he’d quit and go home, but when he wanted to throw his
weight around, he’d then think of the Sect Leader’s Seal.

“Call some men in, by the way,” said Yan Zhengming. “And get the floor
cleaned. Can’t you see the hairs—also, move my censer over and tell Yue-er
to prepare the incense.”

Before Cheng Qian could say anything, Yan Zhengming had finished the
whole process of appropriating Cheng Qian’s room as his own. Then he
threw Cheng Qian by the dinner table and demanded, “Get ready to eat.”

Cheng Qian silently reached out his hand to pick up the chopsticks. But
before he could touch them, Yan Zhengming slapped his hand away.

“Wash hands.” Yan Zhengming frowned.

Since Taoist children were still in the room, Cheng Qian didn’t want to defy
his first senior brother, who recently became the sect leader, in front of
them. So after staring at Yan Zhengming for a few seconds, Cheng Qian
dipped his hands in the basin and reached out again to take the teacup.

And was slapped by Yan Zhengming a second time.

Yan Zhengming: “Drinking tea before the meal? What’s wrong with you?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He had a feeling that this day wouldn’t end well.

“Begin with cold dishes. How can you alternate cold dishes with hot ones?”

“Who asked you to serve desserts when the meal is not finished?”

“What? You use the same bowl to have rice and soup?”

“Are you kidding me? This eggplant isn’t peeled!? Are unpeeled eggplants
really fit for human consumption?”
Cheng Qian came to the end of his endurance. He plopped the chopsticks
on the table and stood up to leave.

“What are you going to do?” asked Yan Zhengming, unable to make heads
or tail of his move.

“I don’t feel good, and I can’t even swallow food,” Cheng Qian said. “I’m
going to practice swordplay in the backyard.”

Every morning and evening, Cheng Qian would practice swordplay for two
hours without fail. But today he felt that two hours were not enough. He
wanted to practice for the whole night.

Once he was tired out and felt compelled to go back, he found that his room
had been changed to the Gossamer Cave2 by first senior brother.

And the evil sitting inside the Gossamer Cave wouldn’t let him in. “Go take
a bath. Do you want to sleep with this sweat?”

Cheng Qian’s expression told Yan Zhengming that yes, that was what he
had been thinking of doing and what he had always done before. Therefore,
Young Master Yan turned around and called in Xueqing right away, “Get
me a new sheet!”

After Xueqing left, Cheng Qian shouted to him, “Can’t you just go back to
your own place?”

Yan Zhengming: “No. Just look at you. I have to watch over you these days
—do you practice swordplay this late every day?”

A blue vein stood out on Cheng Qian’s forehead. Neglecting Yan

Zhengming’s question, he said, “I won’t sleep with you!”

“You think I want to sleep with you?” Yan Zhengming fumed. “Even a
chopping board is softer than your bed!”
Cheng Qian turned to leave. “Fine. I’ll go sleep on the chopping board in
the kitchen. Sect Leader Senior Brother, please do as you like.”

Yan Zhengming shouted to the baffled Taoist boys standing outside the
door, “Take him down!”

Cheng Qian always treated others—even the Taoist children from Fuyao
Mountain—in a slightly distant and urbane manner, so he surely wouldn’t
get into a fight with these innocent bystanders. Hence, Yan Zhengming got
his way.

The brocade quilt brought from the Land of the Tender caused Cheng Qian
to sneeze so hard that his eyes streamed tears. Yan Zhengming threw a
handkerchief at him with a disgusted look and said with a frown, “Is there
anything wrong with your nose?”

Cheng Qian picked that handkerchief up with two fingers, stretched out his
arm, and tossed it away. Then he produced a book about the taboos on
charms, saying, “I think it’s your brain that is wrong.”

Yan Zhengming spread the quilt over Cheng Qian’s face and grabbed the
book. “Sleep.”

Cheng Qian: “Give it back!”

As such, they started tussling over the book and banished all thoughts of
sleep.

An intact Taboos on Charms came within an inch of being torn apart. In the
end, Cheng Qian loosened his grip out of care for the book while Yan
Zhengming took advantage of that, threw aside the book, and put out the
light.

Cheng Qian resentfully ground his teeth in the darkness and tucked himself
in under the quilt—out of sight, out of mind.

The winner, Yan Zhengming, crossed his hands behind his head. His sense
of triumph was soon in and soon out. Cheng Qian gave him the cold
shoulder and Yan Zhengming just lay flat in the bed, staring vacantly at the
bed curtain.

It was a long time before Yan Zhengming’s voice suddenly ruffled the
silence, “Now I know what it feels like to tread on thin ice and to stand on
the edge of an abyss.”

Cheng Qian tucked himself in the quilt, saying nothing. Perhaps for him,
Yan Zhengming was exactly the vexing “abyss” for the moment.

Yan Zhengming became reticent before he went on speaking to himself,

“After the Celestial Market, there’ll be lectures. Many rogue cultivators3
would seize the opportunity and come for advanced study. Second and
fourth junior brothers haven’t crossed the threshold of absorbing qi, so I am
considering staying. To lay foundations at least… we can’t just go back to
Fuyao Mountain without any skills.”

Just how ridiculous it was, to think that they had to audit others’ lectures to
learn some trifling skills in the same way that rootless rogue cultivators did,
despite Fuyao Sect being a decent sect.

“I have promised the lord of the island to stay, but I didn’t mean to depend
on Azure Dragon Island,” Yan Zhengming paused and then added, as
though to convince somebody, “Really.”

Cheng Qian had poked his head out of the quilt without Yan Zhengming
noticing when, his face sideways and looking at his senior brother in
silence.

Cheng Qian still had an immature visage, but the eyes on his pinched face
radiated a staunch gaze embellished with childish brightness and innocence.

‘What was I doing when I was at his age?’ Yan Zhengming thought to
himself.

Looking at Cheng Qian, he felt torn and sorry, and words just popped out of
his mouth in an uncontrolled manner, “Ten years, in at most ten years, we’ll
go back.”
But he regretted it as soon as he finished that. Yan Zhengming turned his
head back with a painful mood, not looking at Cheng Qian anymore, and
swiftly went back on his words. “I was just saying. It wouldn’t be better if
we can, but never mind if we failed. Don’t get your hopes up.”

‘… Fine. He’s only reliable when pigs fly,’ Cheng Qian thought.

Sometimes, one person or some people might be undergoing upheavals, but

time stops for no one, and the world continues moving on and on.

While these young boys were anxiously seeking their way out, the Celestial
Market opened as scheduled.

The so-called “Celestial Market” on Azure Dragon Island was actually a

very grand decennial exposition, and a ten-li-long street had been devoted
to trade in pills, talismans, magic tools, manuals, and so on. Each sect
would send their younger generations to come to make friends with like-
minded people, and those disciples who were old enough to travel by
themselves could even choose to go in a group after the Celestial Market
rounded off.

On top of that, the key focus was nothing other than the “Azure Dragon
Competition” which was long waited by every rogue cultivator across the
country.

The lecture hall of Azure Dragon Island was the most admired place by
innumerable rogue cultivators. Cultivators, even mortals, who failed to
make their way into a prominent organization would come here to take a
chance, hoping to receive guidance from a great teacher so that they could
embark on the true path of cultivation.

Those lucky enough to rise above the common herd might even be accepted
into Azure Dragon Island, even though they wouldn’t be counted as a full
disciple. But to say the least, with years spent in the lecture hall, one would
definitely acquire some basic skills which would confer him the ability to
seek his fortune on his own travel.
Unfortunately, due to the limited capacity of the lecture hall, after going
through rounds of elimination, only one to two percent of all enrollees
would be able to stay.

But in Fuyao Sect’s case, the Lord of Azure Dragon Island obviously
opened the back door for them; otherwise, these kids might not necessarily
survive the elimination of the Azure Dragon Competition.

At Han Yuan’s instigation, the disciples of Fuyao Sect decided to go to the

Celestial Market and have some fun.

The market was interesting. Many mortals mixed with the crowd and
couldn’t be told apart from cultivators at first glance. But Yan Zhengming
soon found that the way they communicated or traded was entirely different
—only mortals would use currency while cultivators did barters.

Even if Yan Zhengming were carrying hundreds of thousands of paper

money with him, he could buy nothing but mortal things at the Celestial
Market. Don’t even think about those magic tools.

The Azure Dragon Competition was held on the Azure Dragon Platform at
the end of the street.

The Azure Dragon Platform only covered an area of three or four Zhang
square, but there seemed to be a certain charm cast on it—once you stepped
onto it, the platform would look so boundless that it was even able to
contain illusions of high mountains, great rivers and vast oceans. Tang
Wanqiu and some other cultivators stood in a circle around the platform,
perhaps to preserve order.

Any cultivator confident in himself could jump onto the platform to have an
open fight with someone else, while those who hadn’t crossed the threshold
of cultivation might pick an illusion to test his own conduct, willpower,
aptitude, and so on.

For the sake of fairness, everybody was allowed to spectate.

When Yan Zhengming and his junior brothers managed to find themselves
seats in a nearby teahouse, two cultivators were in combat, each using a
saber and a sword respectively. Unlike the battle against Jiang Peng on the
sea, in a competition of this level, every single move on both sides could be
clearly seen.

The swordsman’s moves were very fancy with agileness which embodied
his hard work. But once the fanciness went past a certain point, it appeared
redundant. After two or three hundred clashes, the unimpressive saber
wielder suddenly spotted his opponent’s weak point. He pressed his saber
ahead with a jolt, jerking it upward and hitting the swordsman’s sword into
the air with a clang.

The spectators around gave cheers.

“First Senior Brother, when can we use real swords?” asked Han Yuan with
admiration.

“When you won’t drop your wooden sword on your feet,” said Yan
Zhengming as he stared fixedly at the platform.

Cheng Qian chuckled by his side and then said to Han Yuan, “Master said
that the swordplay of our sect is different from the rest; we’ll have to wait
some years.”

With that, he remembered the wooden sword which had been held steadily
in Master’s hand on that stormy day and couldn’t help but append,
“Besides, as long as your moves embody the sword will, wooden swords
are not necessarily inferior to iron swords…”

Before Cheng Qian could finish his words, Li Yun suddenly pulled him and
warned him in a low voice, “Xiao-Qian, stop talking nonsense!”

Cheng Qian was confused. He raised his head and saw a swarthy man in the
next seat looking at him coldly.

Cheng Qian had no clue what was wrong. Upon their gazes meeting, that
man stood up and overlooked Cheng Qian as he said, “Wooden swords are
not necessarily inferior to iron swords—you must have profound
understandings on the Tao of the sword, little brother?”

Just then, the rogue cultivator who had lost just now came down from the
Azure Dragon Platform and walked to the side of the black man, calling,
“Brother.”

Cheng Qian latched on to what was going on right away. He thought this
was really strange. This guy was directing his anger at him for his own
brother’s defeat?

Evidently, Han Yuan felt the same as he did on this point. The little beggar
hated his little senior brother being offended and advanced right away, a
mouthful of swear words on the tip of his tongue.

But before he could spout them out, Li Yun had swiftly grabbed him.
“Don’t stir up trouble!”

Yan Zhengming stuck his arm out in front of the grudging Cheng Qian and
made a lazy obeisance to the other side, saying, “This kid is talking
irresponsibly, he would even say a coal ball is white. You may just laugh
that off, brother.”

Li Yun felt a spurt of fatigue after he heard first senior brother talk about a
coal ball before an actual piece of black charcoal. He knew that first senior
brother had intended to be a peacemaker, but the words somehow sounded
like a provocation after they went through Yan Zhengming’s mouth.

A born nuisance—what a special talent!

That swarthy man’s face went darker as expected. His defeated brother
whispered to him, and a few seconds later, his eyes settled on the wooden
sword in Cheng Qian’s hand.

Then he snorted, “What? ‘Fuyāo’ (place the hand on the waist) Sect? I’ve
never heard of such. I don’t think there’s a need to enter the lecture hall
now, since any nobody is able to get in using their connections. Perhaps the
Azure Dragon Competition’s fame is overblown, just to cheat fools like you
who don’t know the truth!”

Tang Wanqiu, who was standing by the Azure Dragon Platform keeping the
law, had obviously heard that, and her visage immediately changed as
though storms were coming. But since she dared not abandon her duty
without permission, all she could do was shoot stabbing glances at that
black charcoal and the disciples of Fuyao Sect. She probably wanted to kick
all of them out of here.

Yan Zhengming wasn’t bothered by his words at all. He thought, ‘He’s

speaking ill of the Azure Dragon Island anyway, what does it matter to me?’

Thus he sneered and lifted his foot to leave.

Cheng Qian wasn’t so unthinking as him. He had noticed Tang Wanqiu’s

face change.

Although the black charcoal had spoken rudely of Azure Dragon Island, the
trouble was ultimately caused by them. Many people had initially borne
strong resentment against them, as the lord of the island had summoned
them several times. If they left as though nothing had happened at this
point, those people would most likely give them a hard time in the future.

Yan Zhengming: “Xiao-Qian, time to go.”

Cheng Qian turned a deaf ear to him and remained in place. Flicking his
fingers across the edge of his wooden sword, he slowly said, “Oh? So you
mean, this brother who was disarmed… must have some genuine abilities?”

1. A porter is someone who carries things to places. They’re muscle-

bound and treat things roughly. A modern equivalent would be
something like, ‘You’re throwing all of my stuff around! What are
you, a rush-service deliveryman!?’
2. a cave possessed by several female spider evils in Journey to the
West.
3. Independent cultivators unaffiliated with any sect, clan, or other
martial organizations.
 Liu Yao, Chapter 34

T/N: The previous translators used the words ‘Senior Brother’ and ‘Junior
Brother’, but I’ve decided to use the words ‘Shixiong’ and ‘Shidi’ instead in
response to my followers’ request (I’m also more used to using these
words).

Nobody had expected this development. The crowd, which was gathered
closely around them, immediately backed off and left out a large space for
them.

Some of the bystanders openly put their heads together in discussion, trying
to figure out their origins.

The Fuyao Sect had secluded themselves from human eyes for a long time.
Other than the formidable masters who had lived for thousands of years
from back then, not many people had ever heard of the sect now. It just had
to be that this sect with unknown origins had been putting up a wealthy and
high-ranking act since that day on the port of the East Sea, that people
couldn’t possibly not know them. Everyone had heard of the wastrels in this
sect.

Even if cultivators wouldn’t care about worldly matters and wealth, could
they really be so indifferent when the Island Lord also gave these people
special treatment?

Yan ZhengMing and his group, who never interacted much with outsiders,
didn’t know that they had already become a thorn in these people’s eyes.

Cheng Qian, with his figure of an eleven- to twelve-year-old boy, stood

there without moving, a lone wooden sword that looked like a child’s toy in
his hand.

Somebody sneered among the crowd, “What a cocky child. Is there no

senior in the sect to keep him in line?”

Another one said, “What, didn’t you hear that the Island Lord had allowed
them to enter the Lecture Hall? What kind of honorable sect would let their
disciples enter other people’s lecture halls?”

“That’s quite strange. Then why does the Island Lord give them such
special treatment?”

“Who knows? It’s probably the young master of a wealthy family, or even a
relative of the royal family. Maybe they had spent large sums of money to
acquire a rare treasure and swayed the Island Lord, so they were allowed
in.”

“Thinking that anyone could be a cultivator, what an unrealistic dream. Is

the path of cultivation so easy to tread?”

Yan ZhengMing had practically been driven mad. He finally understood

that Cheng Qian’s reliability was only a flower in the mirror, the moon
reflected on the water [1] — It didn’t really exist!

Face cold as ice, he gritted out in a low voice through clenched teeth,
“Cheng, Qian!”

Cheng Qian wasn’t deaf, of course he had heard those comments. He

immediately understood then — their days on the island wasn’t ‘going to
be’ difficult, it had already become difficult starting then.

After making a such a show, his karma bore fruit early too. Cheng Qian had
suspicions that his master’s words on the boat back then were a premonition
of sorts.

But now that things had come to this point…

Cheng Qian didn’t actually want to make any real move, he had only meant
to put up an act for the people of Azure Dragon Island to see.
Firstly, the other party had lost earlier, it wouldn’t be reasonable for him to
get on the platform again. Secondly, Cheng Qian knew his own age. Let’s
not talk about these cultivators — even among the common folks, it
wouldn’t be reasonable for a large grown-up man to pick a fight with a
barely adolescent boy.

At this point, Cheng Qian finally realized that he might have unwittingly
jumped onto the tiger’s back [2].

If he were a good boy who was good with words, he could have easily
talked his way out of this situation. He wasn’t any kind of person with
status anyway, the top of his head could barely reach that man’s chest, so he
didn’t need to consider his face much, his life was most important — But
Cheng Qian had never been an unruly brat to begin with.

Mind racing, he quickly went through all the exchange of blows that he’d
seen on the platform earlier. When he finished, he did not retreat and steeled
himself instead, thinking: “Come at me if you want, it’s not like I’m afraid
of you.”

Cheng Qian refused to back down and ignored Yan ZhengMing’s warnings.
Acting like the bystanders didn’t exist, he cupped his fist with his other
hand and said to the rogue cultivator, “I’ve learned a bit of swordplay
myself, but I’m not very skilled yet. My master still wouldn’t let me use an
iron sword. I’d appreciate any pointers from you, Brother [3].”

It was unclear what kind of sect out in the wilderness had produced this
defeated rogue cultivator, but he didn’t care much for face or respect. After
hearing those words, he immediately responded, “Giving pointers is too
much of an honor for me. Since Young Master could enter the Lecture Hall
without participating in the competition, you must have some kind of
unique talent.”

The moment he finished speaking, a small part of the crowd laughed in a

soft voice — probably at his lack of shame.

One of the bystanders who’d been watching the spectacle interrupted then,
“Second Brother Zhang, this young brother has challenged you, so accept
his challenge. If you win, maybe the Island Lord would also give you
special privilege!”

Han Yuan said angrily, “What if you lose? Kneel down and… mmph!”

Li Yun reached out to cover his mouth, completely shutting up this

troublemaker.

The rogue cultivator made a show of raising his brows, “Aiya, what did that
little brother say just now? What would happen if I lose?”

Cheng Qian slowly levelled his wooden sword, made an opening gesture,
and said mildly, “I wouldn’t dare. My Shidi’s words were insolent, do
pardon him — Please.”

Yan ZhengMing fumed with anger and decided to grab Cheng Qian back
without caring for anything else. But he had only taken one step when a
folding fan appeared out of nowhere to block his way.

He saw a scholarly man wearing a long robe, eyes slanted and sharp. The
man swept a glance toward Yan ZhengMing and said in a slightly frivolous
manner, “Ah, don’t be in such a hurry to stop them, Sect Leader Yan. Let us
witness the skill of your sect’s favorite disciple.”

“Out of my way!” Yan ZhengMing struck at that person’s wrist with the
base of his sword.

Li Yun, “Eldest Shixiong, don’t…”

Before Yan ZhengMing’s sword could even brush against the corner of that
person’s clothes, a formless great energy collided with his sword’s hilt. The
force of the collision went along his arm toward his chest. After suffering
this blow, Yan ZhengMing retreated three steps, a suffocating feeling in his
chest, and almost vomited a mouthful of blood.

Li Yun hurried to support him from behind. “Shixiong!”

Yan ZhengMing forced himself to swallow the metallic taste in his throat
and glared at the man in long robe.
That person showed no regard for him at all. He calmly unfurled his folding
fan and made a show of fanning himself. On the fan, written in a colorful
and elaborate fashion, was the line ‘Think thrice before you act [4]’. He
smiled meaningfully as he said, “Such recklessness is ill-fitting for a sect
leader.”

This person was clearly here to stir trouble for them!

That rogue cultivator had lost in the Azure Dragon Competition anyway, so
he didn’t have much to consider. He didn’t even care that Cheng Qian only
had a worn out wooden sword in his hand. Throwing aside all earlier
pretenses, he charged forward with a slash of his sword.

This wasn’t a strike that could be stopped easily. It was unclear where he
had obtained his sword, but there were enhancing incantations carved onto
it. The rogue cultivator also practiced some kind of strange cultivation
method, that before the sword even landed a hit, an eerie wind had arrived
first, causing an irritating pain on the skin.

The wooden sword truly wasn’t a strong object. Cheng Qian didn’t have his
Master’s skill, so he avoided the tip of the sword and dodged with a twist of
his body.

The rogue cultivator saw that he would only retreat and dodge instead of
meeting the strikes, and immediately became frenzied. He jumped around
quickly, using his showy and fancy swordplay that the eyes could hardly
follow, and forced Cheng Qian to move all over the place to dodge him.

The scholar standing in Yan ZhengMing’s way watched those two like he
was watching a monkey show. He smiled. “Your honorable sect’s disciple is
still so young, but he has great talent to be a counterattacker.”

He ironically ‘praised’ Cheng Qian for only being able to dodge and retreat.
Yan ZhengMing’s sword-wielding hand turned green at the knuckles. From
the day he was born till now, when had he ever suffered such disgrace?

The rogue cultivator closed in on Cheng Qian and smiled maliciously,

“Does your sect’s brilliant swordplay only teach you to dodge and retreat?”
As he spoke, the wooden hairpin in Cheng Qian’s hair was split in two by
the wind from his sword. A large part of his hair immediately came loose.

The rogue cultivator, “You’d better go back to drink your milk… ugh!”

Cheng Qian caught him off guard with his counterattack then.

He jumped sideways, the tip of his foot lightly tapping the floor. And then
he turned with the move ‘Tides of the Full Moon [5]’.

This was the opening move of Tide Swordplay. Just like the magnificent
sounds of the seas and rivers, its footwork used long strides. The wooden
sword swept by like a thousand waves, somehow giving off a strange
fearsome feeling, that the rogue cultivator couldn’t help hesitating.

Two kinds of people were suitable for this kind of swordplay: The first was
people who crudely fought with raw strength, who would break through any
fancy techniques with one forceful blow; The other kind was people who
were merciless in their ways, like Cheng Qian.

Cheng Qian trained with his sword diligently, but he had never really fought
with anyone. His natural reaction was still untrained, so it was useless no
matter how practiced his own swordplay was — Even though the rogue
cultivator’s skill wasn’t that high, Cheng Qian was still no match for him,
so he had never planned to exchange blows directly.

While watching the match, Cheng Qian had seen that this rogue cultivator’s
sword techniques were packed with power, so he took a risky guess and
predicted that his opponent wouldn’t change his techniques much.

He had been avoiding and dodging the attacks earlier because he only had
one trick up his sleeve. He was waiting for his opponent to get carried away
and push on his seeming victory, to use this technique and deliver his own
blow.

The wooden sword accurately sliced through the wind from the rogue
cultivator’s sword. Brushing along the iron sword’s edge, he cleanly
avoided the sword tip. And, with the unique cultivation method of Fuyao
Sect that trained the meridians through carving charms, he mercilessly
struck the rogue cultivator’s face.

Of course, the blunt wooden sword wouldn’t cause his blood to be

splattered for three feet, but the rogue cultivator was still stunned by this
strike. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, his two lips split into
three. A dark bruising mark was left on his face, which swelled to the size
of a steamed bun in the blink of an eye. Nobody knew whether his teeth
were knocked out.

It was said that one shouldn’t hit the face when beating someone. This
strike was so shocking that the bystanders were bewildered.

Even the scholar with the folding fan seemed stunned. “What a merciless
little whelp.”

Cheng Qian was already feeling regretful after landing his hit. It was as if
he had made an even bigger mess of things.

Because of this, he showed no sign of complacency and only retracted his

wooden sword with an emotionless face. The tip of his sword was pointed
downward to show respect. Clasping his hands together, he lowered his
head in apology. “I apologize for the displeasure. Many thanks for Brother’s
helpful pointers.”

The rogue cultivator covered his own face, unable to speak. The scholar
with the folding fan raised his brows, retracted the folding fan back into his
palm, and commented as if deep in thought, “His venom is quite reserved
too. How interesting.”

When Cheng Qian lowered his eyes, he had swept a glance toward the
Azure Dragon Platform. He saw some of the Protectors [6] putting their
heads together in discussion. Tang WanQiu had even shown a hint of a
smile. Only then did he wipe his cold sweat on the hilt of his sword, feeling
like he could retreat now that he had made his point.

He let loose a breath in relief, thinking, “In the future, I’d better pick fewer
fights, and displease fewer people.”
But this issue was clearly not over yet. Cheng Qian had wholeheartedly
apologized, but when he turned around with his wooden sword, he heard an
inhumane howl from behind.

“Little bastard, stop right there!”

And then there was a sharp hiss of the wind from behind. Cheng Qian
reflexively dodged to one side, but someone in front of him was standing in
his way. Cheng Qian couldn’t dodge, so he could only raise the wooden
sword in his hand.

Right then, a hand forcefully caught his arm. Cheng Qian lost his balance
and bumped straight into that person’s chest. The clear sound of clashing
metal rang next to his ear with a silk-splitting sharpness. Cheng Qian’s
pupils narrowed into slits — The defeated rogue cultivator had disregarded
everything in his anger and slashed at him from behind. Cheng Qian had
been pulled aside by his Eldest Shixiong.

Yan ZhengMing’s sword, which he didn’t manage to unsheathe in time, had

deflected the rogue cultivator’s sword. But that rogue cultivator’s black
charcoal of a brother made use of this opening to throw a piece of metal
charged with his energy, directly hitting the end of Yan ZhengMing’s sword
and causing it to slip in his hand. The rogue cultivator’s sword, which
should have been deflected, changed directions because of this and sliced
into Yan ZhengMing’s shoulder.

Cheng Qian’s sight turned red instantly.

Yan ZhengMing first became enraged, but he didn’t even manage to express
his fury before he was beaten by the pain of his ‘heavy wound’ — He had
originally meant to unsheathe his sword and cut down his opponent, but he
didn’t get to do this because it felt like the injured side of his body could no
longer exert any strength.

Of course, the outsiders didn’t know any of these details. In their eyes, the
much too young Sect Leader Yan had only held his sword without a move,
showing a steady and mature air that was rarely found in young people.
After inhaling a deep breath expressionlessly, Yan ZhengMing finally
spoke, “I’ve gained new knowledge today.”

Now that things had reached this point, Tang WanQiu finally spoke from
next to the Azure Dragon Platform.

She couldn’t leave the Azure Dragon Platform, so she was quite a distance
away, but each of her word could be heard clearly, as if she was speaking
directly next to them, “Those who have been eliminated from the Azure
Dragon Competition, leave as soon as possible. Don’t loiter around to
create a disturbance, what kind of place do you think this is!”

Seeing that someone from the Azure Dragon Island had spoken up, the
rogue cultivator brothers exchanged a look. In the end, they didn’t dare to
continue making a scene. After glaring at Cheng Qian and Yan ZhengMing
viciously, they disappeared into the crowd and left.

Yan ZhengMing hissed lightly, released Cheng Qian, and said through
gritted teeth, “Let’s go.”

Cheng Qian held onto a corner of his sleeve so tightly his fingers might
puncture the fabric. In a barely audible voice, he spoke next to Yan
ZhengMing’s ear, “I’m going to take their lives.”

Yan ZhengMing was surprised. He forcibly reigned in his look of pain and
asked, “What did you say?”

Cheng Qian swept his reddened eyes over Yan ZhengMing’s bloody
shoulder. “One day, I’m going to reduce them to ashes.”

Yan ZhengMing raised a hand to clap his back, “Nonsense… Ow, aiyo…
I’ll slap you if you spew anymore nonsense!”

Cheng Qian looked at him, placed Yan ZhengMing’s arm around his own
neck, and wordlessly supported him as they walked back. But his eyes still
bore the beginnings of resentment — even if he spoke no more of it, he had
engraved this grudge in his heart.
There was a kind of capability unique to some people with a big heart: No
matter how happy or enraged they felt, as long as there was somebody else
close to them who was more emotional than they were, they would be able
to calm down immediately. Like Yan ZhengMing, for example. He had
been almost consumed with rage earlier, but when he heard Cheng Qian’s
words, he somehow felt that his fury had lessened a lot.

Li Yun hurried to help support Yan ZhengMing and released Cheng Qian’s
hand. Cheng Qian silently followed them, eyes lowered and fixedly staring
at the ground in front of him.

The four of them returned to their temporary dwelling on the Azure Dragon
Island without a word.

“Forget it, Copper Coin,” Yan ZhengMing saw that Cheng Qian’s face
seemed odd and was a little worried he would really go to kill those people,
so he awkwardly tried to console him, “You were the one who’d struck his
face to begin with. Nobody would be able to accept that, so don’t keep a
grudge against them now.”

Li Yun never thought that he would ever hear this kind of enlightening
words from his Eldest Shixiong. He immediately looked at him in shock
and raised a trembling hand to feel his Eldest Shixiong’s forehead.

Cheng Qian made no sound in response.

Yan ZhengMing seemed to have noticed something. He stiffly turned half

of his body around, reached out to lift Cheng Qian’s chin slightly, and said
in amazement, “Aiyo, Copper Coin, you’re crying?”

Somehow, this discovery made Yan ZhengMing’s heart burst with such joy,
that his wound didn’t even hurt so much anymore. One could almost see a
tail rising behind him as he shamelessly said, “Could it be, you’re feeling
sorry for this Shixiong of yours? Ah, out of gratitude for your filial piety,
I’ll allow you to serve tea for this Sect Leader.”

Cheng Qian slapped his hand away. “Scram!”

And then he ran toward his own courtyard.

Yan ZhengMing looked around for a bit, found a black stone pillar on a
nearby corridor, and told Li Yun, “Help me go over there.”

Li Yun thought that he had some kind of urgent business and hurriedly
brought him to the pillar. When he saw Yan ZhengMing stare fixedly at the
stone pillar, he asked in slight worry, “Why… Eldest Shixiong, is
something wrong with this pillar?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Yan ZhengMing said happily, “It’s quite clear.”

Li Yun only understood what he meant after a long while. He immediately

became irritated. “A dog truly couldn’t be trained to stop eating shit [7].”

Yan ZhengMing studied his own reflection on the stone pillar’s surface. The
small wound on his shoulder did nothing to impair his natural elegance.
Even as an injured person, he remained charming and beautiful.

Cheng Qian’s reddened eyes had given Yan ZhengMing a peculiar feeling.
It was as if a small wolf that would always ignore him all day and bite his
hand for no reason had come in the dead of night to sneakily lick at the
wound on his hand. It felt very tender and soothing.

In this feeling of tenderness, Sect Leader Yan, with his very small wound,
was delicately helped into his room, crying out in pain all the way. Amid
the Taoist children’s panicked fussing, he was treated like a delicate vase
that would break with the slightest touch.

[1] ‘a flower in the mirror, the moon reflected on the water’ The phrase
used here is 「鏡花水月」. It refers to an illusory existence, something that
doesn’t actually exist despite seemingly being there.

[2] ‘unwittingly jumped onto the tiger’s back’ The phrase used here is 「騎
虎難下」. It’s a Chinese expression that refers to a difficult dilemma, in
which one couldn’t back out of a commitment once they’ve started on it.
Brief explanation: When riding a tiger, one couldn’t dismount by simply
jumping off because the tiger could just turn around to strike. Continuing to
hold on would wear out the person and cause them to fall, which would lead
to the same outcome. One can only dismount safely after killing the tiger.

[3] ‘Brother’ The phrase used here is 「兄台」, which is not used for
blood-related brothers. Quick note: People in this sort of setting often use
variations of ‘Brother’ to address strangers whose names they don’t know.

[4] ‘Think thrice before you act’ The phrase used here is 「三思而後行」.
It’s a pretty self-explanatory Chinese expression, which means one must
consider everything carefully before taking action.

[5] ‘Tides of the Full Moon’ The phrase used here is 「海潮望月」. It
could also be translated into ‘Tides looking upon the moon’ if you treat 望
as a verb, but 望月 as a noun means ‘full moon’.

[6] ‘Protectors’ The word used here is 「護法」, which is commonly used
to say ‘protector of Buddhist law’. In this setting, it’s a term for some select
individuals on Azure Dragon Island including Tang WanQiu.

[7] ‘A dog truly couldn’t be trained to stop eating shit’ The phrase used here
is 「狗改不了吃屎」. It basically means that bad habits couldn’t be
changed so easily.

I’m holding a quick poll on Twitter for future translation reference, please
check the following link!

Would you guys prefer to see each syllable in their names capitalized or not
(E.g. ‘Yan ZhengMing’ or ‘Yan Zhengming’)?

(Please leave your votes on the Twitter poll so it’s easier to calculate the
results!)

Feel free to tell me if anything doesn’t sound right with the translations!

If you liked this, please consider donating to keep this website going!
 Liu Yao - Chapter 35

Many thanks to InkSplatterM and MrMissMrsRandom for answering my

questions about how to say things in English, and MrMissMrsRandom for
editing the translation for me!

*******
After running into trouble at the Azure Dragon platform, without any
order from Yan Zhengming, all members of Fuyao Sect, including
servants, avoid going outside. They all know what “discretion” is
without any teaching.

Cheng Qian increases his daily practice with the sword by two hours,
and insists on sparring with his fellow disciples. The hundred-day
period of the celestial market passes by in a blink of the eye, and
Cheng Qian masters “Seek and pursue.”

Under the pressure of their difficult circumstances, even the

disinterested Han Yuan puts effort into practicing. One day, Li Yun
achieves the ability to absorb qi after waking up from his midday
nap. No one can tell what his means to enter the Tao is. As their
Master is no longer there, the first time Li Yun practices carving a
talisman has to be under the guidance of their most senior brother.

On the last day of the celestial market, Han Yuan changes into
shabby clothes and goes outside. He doesn’t return until the
evening, bringing back a package of cakes and eating as he walks.
Puddle, who has been playing in the hall, sees that and wants to eat
too. She watches him closely with longing eyes and salivates.
“No, baby sister,” Han Yuan heartlessly says, “Children can’t eat
adults’ food. They will choke to death.”
Puddle’s milk teeth can chew even wood, so she doesn’t believe his
threat. Seeing as the package of cakes are nearly empty, she
impatiently sprouts her first speech since birth. “B- b- bwother.”

Startled enough to stop in his track, Han Yuan asks. “Oh, can you
already speak?”
Seeing an opening, Puddle squeezes her hands and tries so hard
her face turns red to call once more. “Bwother!”

“Good work.” Han Yuan pays her a completely insincere compliment,

without making even a tiniest bit of effort. He continues walking and
eating. His past as a beggar gives him a bad habit. He can ask for
food from other people, but no one can touch the food in his hand.

Puddle is anxious about the cakes to the point of forgetting that her
disciple brothers forbid her not to fly. She spreads the wings that she
has increasingly better control over and chases after Han Yuan.
At precisely that moment, Cheng Qian and Li Yun walk in.

As soon as he sees those familiar huge wings, Cheng Qian’s face

darkens. He orders with a low voice. “Get down!”

Puddle is afraid of Cheng Qian, because her tantrums and tears

work on everyone but her third disciple brother. He is strict to other
people and even stricter to himself. Whatever he threatens, he will
do it. Fearing that she will lose her dinner, she lands too fast that her
bottom slams into the ground. Her mouth wobbles, but she dares not
cry in front of Cheng Qian.

Cheng Qian is carrying a basket of flowers in one hand and some

books in the other. He makes an icy face to reprimand Puddle, but
his heart is full of worries.

What will happen to a little, defenseless celestial yao if she falls in

the hand of a greedy and cruel cultivator?

Furthermore, in the worst case scenario, no one can demand justice

for her. At the end of the day, she isn’t human, and in the eyes of
many cultivators, what isn’t human is a thing. Even if she is the
daughter of the queen of the yao and has half-human blood, it is
likely she is regarded as a mere animal.

Seeing as Cheng Qian is about to lose his temper with Puddle, Li

Yun hastily waves his hand. “Let it go, Xiao-Qian. She is still too
young to understand anything. Rather than expecting her to
remember it by herself, let’s find something to stop her from flying.”

“A few days ago I indeed found a talisman design for sealing the yao
blood,” Cheng Qian says, “However, I don’t know what the odds of
success are.”

Although he has just started working with talismans, Li Yun is well-

aware of their complexities. He urges. “You shouldn’t recklessly try
the talismans you aren’t sure about again.”

Cheng Qian evades the reminder. He just smiles and turns to Han
Yuan to change the topic. “Where did you go today?”

“Gather information,” Han Yuan chews and talks at the same time,
“In the past few days, I found out that the asshole with the face like a
lump of coal who caused trouble for us is called Zhang Dasen. He
has passed the test to attend the Lecture Hall. The one who used
the sword is Zhang Erlin, his younger brother. He wasn’t selected
and will have to leave Azure Dragon Island tomorrow once the
celestial market is over. The way I understand it, these rogue
cultivators really like to gather together. Zhang Dasen and his gang
have already swayed some people. We’ll have to be careful against
them.”

Han Yuan has a skill that can be called a specialty. He can uncover
everything, as long as someone says something on the street.

Li Yun asks, “Who is the one that carried a fan that day?”
Han Yuan’s face darkens slightly. “We can’t afford to piss him off. He
is a member of Azure Dragon Island, named Zhou Hanzheng. He is
the Left Guardian of the Lecture Hall. The Lecture Hall has two
Guardians. Do you remember the woman with the square face? She
is the Right Guardian.”
That is, of course, Tang Wanqiu.

Li Yun frowns. “That Left Guardian guy doesn’t know us. What
problem does he have with us?”

“Maybe he is annoyed we can attend the Lecture Hall without

participating in the tournament,” Han Yuan says, “I don’t know. I
heard this guy had an unsettling personality, with an unpredictable
temper. Let’s try not to cross him. Ah yes, I found some good stuff
today.”

Having said that, Han Yuan dusts the cake crumbs on his hands and
takes out a package wrapped with oil paper from his clothes. He
shows it to his disciple brothers with a mysterious air.

In the package are three needles with a strange shape. Their ends
are carved with unreadable spells, and the points have a greenish
shade.
“These are…” Li Yun’s eyes widen. “Xiao-Qian, don’t touch with your
bare hand! These are Soul Seeking Needles. They are poisonous.
Where did you find them?”
Han Yuan grins gleefully. “At the celestial market.”
“I know these. They are powerful,” Li Yun doesn’t bother to
reprimand Han Yuan for the theft. He excitedly holds up the needles,
with the safety provided by the oil paper cover. “It isn’t easy to find
these needles. They are called ‘Soul Seeking Needle’ because they
can automatically find the target when you give them the order. With
these, you can easily kill the general, even if the enemy army is ten
thousand strong!”

Cheng Qian has no interest in this kind of shady practice. If he wants

to grind someone’s bones into dust, he will do it himself using his
sword. Needles or pins, he has no mood to learn about such things.
He walks past Li Yun and Han Yuan with the big and absurd basket
of flowers in his hand, and kicks the door of Yan Zhengming’s room.
In the furtive giggling of the young maid, he roughly puts the basket
of flowers on the table and says angrily, “These are the rotten
flowers you wanted.”
Even when surrounded by the maids and the beautiful scenery
outside, this most senior brother who needs three months to heal a
wound not larger than the span of a hand is actually working. On his
qin table is a long piece of wood, which he is carving into a talisman
with concentration.

As Cheng Qian kicks the door to get inside, the curve Yan
Zhengming is working on goes awry. His finger is cut by the burin
and a drop of blood seeps out.

Yan Zhengming frowns at first, but he smirks when he sees that it

was Cheng Qian who kicked the door. Because of this “grievous
injury”, that day Cheng Qian wasn’t only made to pick flowers in
daytime by Yan Zhengming, at night he had to suffer his most senior
brother bossing around as he put those strange flowers in the vase.
The next day, the Lecture Hall opens.
What is called the “Lecture Hall” is actually a clearing on the side of
a mountain. The area is crowded and noisy. There are all kinds of
people of all ages and genders as far as the eyes can see. They all
try to occupy a place and settle in however they like, standing,
sitting, or even climbing on the trees. It’s difficult to even walk in
there.

Luckily, the group from Fuyao Sect arrive early thanks to Li Yun’s
insistent reminders, so they can find a corner on the front without
being blocked by anyone and thus settle in early.
The people present here are all rogue cultivators from all kinds of
places. Most of them don’t have high cultivation level, and don’t yet
have the skill to practice inedia and shield their bodies from dirt.
Some of them are wanderers all year long, living without care for
hygiene. Their bodies besides flesh and blood are made of mud,
giving off the smell across miles. Some even bring their companion
animals, which are not just dogs or birds or foxes but also fat rats,
looking very vomit-inducing.

In such a ‘good’ environment, even Cheng Qian has to cringe. No

need to guess how their most senior brother with an obsession for
cleanliness will feel.

Yet Yan Zhengming doesn’t say anything. He has nothing to say. It’s
his decision to stay. How can he eat his words in front of everyone.

Yan Zhengming waves his hand to decline a cushion offered to him.

Looking at some indeterminate point in the distance, he is filled with
an indescribable sadness.
He can’t help thinking of the Hall for the Teaching of the Tao at
Fuyao Mountain. There were spaces, incense in the burner, snacks
and tea with suitable temperatures, yet they didn’t know to
appreciate it and caused trouble day in and day out.

Back then he slept until the sun was high up in the sky, Li Yun played
with the disgusting creatures, Han Yuan was only interested in
sneaking food. Only Cheng Qian tried to overcome his sleepiness
and listen to the Master recite the scripture.

In the present, the scenery is still there, but the person has been
lost.

“Hey, senior brother, what’s wrong?” Han Yuan’s voice interrupts Yan
Zhengming’s recollections.

Yan Zhengming raises his head and sees that Cheng Qiang has
nearly collapsed onto Li Yun. His face doesn’t just look like he didn’t
sleep well, but like he has a serious illness, even his lips are grey.

Cheng Qian squints his eyes and shakes his head. He doesn’t say
anything, unclear whether because he doesn’t have the energy or
doesn’t want to talk.
Yan Zhengming felt terrified. The previous time Cheng Qing looked
like that, he was working with talismans for the first time. He didn’t
know his own ability and lost too much energy.

“What were you up to last night?” Yan Zhengming pointed at Cheng

Qian. “Burglary?”

Li Yun recalls his talk with Cheng Qian the previous day. He turns to
Cheng Qian and asks. “Earlier this morning I visited our baby
disciple sister before leaving. She was crying in the room. What
happened?”

When Puddle cries, the house collapses. Therefore since she began
to understand her situation a little, she normally doesn’t cry indoors.
From time to time when she bursts out crying and the room shakes,
she will stop immediately.

In his half dead half alive state, Cheng Qian finally replies. “Nothing
happened to the building?”

“How dare you,” Li Yun becomes angry. He grabs Cheng Qian by the
collar. “You carved a talisman all alone. Are you tired of living?”
“Shh-” Han Yuan pulled at Li Yun, as the noisy clearing suddenly
becomes quiet. A person descends from the sky to the centre of the
Lecture Hall. Wild flowers on the ground bloom as if they just
received a heavenly elixir.
The person on the raised platform is Zhou Hanzheng.

Holding his fan with the motto “to think carefully,” Zhou Hanzheng
raises his hands and makes salutes to all directions. “Sorry to keep
you waiting.”

Yan Zhengming first pulls Cheng Qian to himself, then whispers to Li

Yun and Han Yuan with a frown. “If I knew it was him, I wouldn’t have
come today. Listen, today we’ll leave early. Don’t attract attention, do
you hear me?”

Li Yun doesn’t reply, his already white face becoming even whiter.
Han Yuan grits his teeth, his face full of anger.

Yan Zhengming pretends not to see the reactions of his disciple

brothers. He can feel how weak Cheng Qian’s breath is, as the boy
leans into him lifelessly.

Although Yan Zhengming doesn’t pursue the topic, what Li Yun said
is enough for him to know that Cheng Qian did something reckless
again to hide the yao energy in Puddle’s body.
“Oh, I can’t stop worrying,” Yan Zhengming thinks. He squeezes
Cheng Qian tightly to express his anger.
On the raised platform, Zhou Hanzheng begins to speak. The
Lecture Hall opens every ten days, the rest of the time the disciples
practice by themselves.

“On Azure Dragon Island, we don’t mind disciples discussing with

each other. However, please maintain courtesy with each other and
don’t disturb the peace. If any of you put your fellow disciples in
danger, you’ll be punished according to the rules,” Zhou Hanzheng’s
glance sweeps through the crowd as he speaks. He somehow spots
the group from Fuyao Sect immediately, his eyes stopping at Yan
Zhengming. Then he smiles and says, “Well then, today I will explain
to you about qi absorption and storing qi in the centre of your body.”
“We should leave,” Yan Zhengming only listens with half his mind.
He distractedly thinks. “Even if we don’t go home, we should still
return to Fuyao Mountain. We have the Nine-Floor library tower to
teach ourselves. It’s still better than staying here and being afraid of
everything. In the worst case scenario, we can go into seclusion and
refuse to meet people like the ancestral master. Let’s pack right
today!”

At this point, Zhou Hanzheng suddenly says, “I’m aware that you are
at different levels. Let’s do it this way, I’ll call up a disciple to
demonstrate with me.”

With those words, his malicious tiny eyes look at Fuyao Sect,
meeting Yan Zhengming’s eyes. Yan Zhengming has the feelings he
is being watched by a viper.

“Ah, Sect Leader Yan,” Zhou Hanzheng smiles. “I heard from the lord
of the island that your esteemed sect has a long history, with a
tradition of being learned. Sect Leader Yan must have completed
this stage of qi absorption. Why don’t you come here and
demonstrate for everyone to see?”

Cheng Qian didn’t sleep at all the night before, on top of his
cultivational base nearly empty because of the talisman. He is very
tired, his temples feeling like they were being compressed tightly,
making his ears hear buzzing sounds. It’s very unpleasant for him to
go all the way to the Lecture Hall. If he were just a little bit less
stubborn, he wouldn’t have been able to wake up in the morning.
However, his body instinctively tenses up upon hearing these words,
and he tries to stand up.

His slightest movement can be felt by Yan Zhengming, who is being

upset that troubles find him even if he wants to stay away from them.

Yan Zhengming presses Cheng Qing down. He annoyedly says, “Sit

still, you rascal. Don’t cause any more trouble! Who needs you to go
out there?”

Having said that, he takes a deep breath and walks to the front with
his sword in hand. With each step, his heart steadies bit by bit. He
stops at about ten steps in front of Zhou Hanzheng. Planting his
sword on the ground, he says, “I humbly wait for your teaching.”

The sword of Yan Zhengming is really an eyesore. It’s not certain

what the sword itself is like, but the scabbard alone is priceless. It’s
adorned by countless precious stones. Even the crown of the
Empress may not have so many treasures.
Zhou Hanzheng looks at him from head to toe and says, “Everyone
here who can perform qi absorption knows the first sensitivity to qi is
a matter of luck. Sect Leader Yan, may I ask what is your means for
entering the Tao?”
Yan Zhengming is still thinking if they have to bid farewell to the Lord
of Azure Dragon Island. In his heart, he understands that the lord of
the island helped them to find the missing disciples then provides
them with shelter, which shows both compassion and righteousness.
However, all the indignities he has experienced so far all happened
on the Azure Dragon Island, so Yan Zhengming can’t help but feel
some resentment towards the lord.

Upon being questioned, he doesn’t want to waste his words, so he

says succinctly, “Sword.”

Zhou Hanzheng nods with a smile. “Indeed. I can guess that. We

can all see how carefully Sect Leader Yan keeps his sword.”
These words, up to the “Sect Leader Yan”, are full of mockery. As
soon as he says them, the audience burst out laughing, whether
from amusement or desire to flatter this powerful Left Guardian.

The veins on Cheng Qian’s temples throb. Knowing that he is losing

control, Li Yun presses him down as soon as he moves, and
reprimands him with a low voice. “Are you trying to cause trouble
again?”

Cheng Qian’s fists ball up so tightly they become white. Everyone

has a limit to their control of temper, where the person can’t help
indulging their anger, no matter how unreasonable it looks to
outsiders. For Cheng Qian, he can swallow his temper for the
greater good when he doesn’t want to cause conflicts, even if he is
insulted to the face. But when it comes to his Master and fellow
disciples, he can’t stand it.

Li Yun holds the shoulders of Cheng Qian tightly and whispers into
his ear. “Don’t cause trouble. Maybe our most senior brother already
wants to go home.”
Cheng Qian startles.

Li Yun says with a low voice: “Xiao-Qian, think about it, if you can’t
stand it, no way our most senior brother can go through this. I think
he already plans to go home as soon as he saw this Lecture Hall
place.”

Zhou Hanzheng ignores Yan Zhengming at first. He slowly lists the

paths for qi absorption that he knows. By the end, he says, “Qi
absorption is the first path of gaining enlightenment about the world.
If you cross this threshold, you officially become a practitioner. Only
after this does the cultivation of energy becomes important. Each
sect has its own ways to cultivate the energy, but the methods are
generally similar. They are all about you absorbing the natural
energy into your body and forming your cultivational base.”

“Besides having a strong energy reserve and good skills with the
sword, you’ll need a proper cultivational base.” Zhou Hanzheng turns
to Yan Zhengming and asks. “May I ask how long have you been
able to absorb the qi?”

Yan Zhengming stays silent.

Fuyao Sect never bothers with cultivating the energy. The only thing
the disciples do after crossing the first threshold is carving talismans
to improve their meridians. From time to time, someone enters the
meditative trance or reaches some understanding thanks to luck, but
Muchun Zhanren never asked his disciples to meditate and form a
cultivational base like other sects.

As if being sure that Yan Zhengming is an ignorant rich boy, Zhou

Hanzheng smirks and repeats the question, “Sect Leader Yan, what
about it?”
Yan Zhengming replies, “Three years.”
Zhou Hanzheng claps his hands. “With three years of qi absorption,
you should have a decent energy reserve. Let’s have a look.”

As soon as he finishes his speech, a strange whirlwind appears on

the platform and attacks Yan Zhengming. Yan Zhengming
instinctively raises his sword and mobilises the qi from his entire
body, to form an invisible shield to protect himself.

Even occupied, Zhou Hanzheng can still talk casually to the

audience below. “This technique is called ‘Borrowing from Mountains
and Rivers’, which was devised by my sect to test the energy
reserve of the disciples. Some of you must have already seen it at
the test. This form is called Flying Sands Running Rocks, which is
designed for newcomers. The disciples who have cultivated for three
years and reached ‘lower achievement’ with hard work or
outstanding talents can withstand this attack for several days. Those
who are less accomplished can withstand for several hours. A
shabbier result would be two hours and a couple of minutes. But, …”

Yan Zhengming only hears buzzing in his ears. He has never worked
on his cultivational base, so it’s simply that he doesn’t know how to
distribute his energy. In a short moment, he loses all feelings of his
limbs. Before Zhou Hanzheng even finishes, the qi shield around his
body is torn apart. A strong force that he can’t defend himself against
hits his chest, then the whirlwind whips over his body. He loses his
ground and is thrown off the platform.
Zhou Hanzheng looks at Yan Zhengming fall off without any pity. He
says the rest of his mockery, “Regarding those who have insufficient
ability and use medicine to force their level to increase, entering the
Tao with drugs, I expected them to be able to withstand a few
minutes, but looks like I think of them too highly. Sect Leader Yan of
this “drugged” sect, are you alright?”
*******
Notes: The original for "drugged" 服药 sounds a bit like 'Fuyao'
 Liu Yao - Chapter 36

Many thanks to InkSplatterM and MrMissMrsRandom for answering my

questions about how to say things in English!

*******
Yan Zhengming feels as if all of his bones have turned to dust. In a
moment, through all of his senses and instincts, he only feels the
condescending gaze of Zhou Hanzheng, as if he were only an ant on
the ground that isn’t worth talking about.

A few people run to him, who are most probably his disciples and
servants. They hasten to help him stand up, but there is no strength
in his legs, so their effort is in vain.

Yan Zhengming doesn’t know if he has passed out. He feels like he

is in a dream, in which he hears the voice of his master. “Zhengming,
you come from a rich family and have no experience of hardship or
challenge. For a cultivator, that isn’t a good thing, so today I’ll give
you ‘reflect’ as the precept.”
It is eight, no, nine years ago. Back then he newly joined Fuyao Sect
and received his master’s teaching for the first time at the Hall of
Ignorance.

Yan Zhengming had been lazy from a young age. He didn’t

understand and asked back. “What do you mean, Master? What do
you want me to reflect about?”
Muchun Zhenren said, “Gemstones or marble start out just like sand
or rocks by the wayside. They undergo strong fire or extreme
pressure to attain their qualities. Even then, they hide underwater or
on the mountains. They have to be sought out from there and their
rough outer layer removed to become something useful. Zhengming,
you are the very first disciple of our Fuyao Sect. In the future when
you encounter hardship, you should think of your heart as the jewel
that the tribulations refine.”
Indeed, back then he even asked what “very first disciple” was.

His master replied. “The first disciple is the start of a lineage of

inheritance. You’re someone who has no precedence. Nor will there
be someone like you in the future in our sect.”
The stench of blood goes up his nose to his forehead, Yan
Zhengming pushes away the arm of someone in front of him and
pukes out some blood. He has no wish to know how miserable he
looks. His face throbs, and when he touches it, he can feel dirt and
gravel mixed with blood on his cheek and temples. His white robe
has become the colour of dirt, the belt coming off and soaked with
muddy water.

Yan Zhengming hears the voice of Zhou Hanzheng flying from afar.
“You wish to make your start at our Azure Dragon Island. In the
future you can become a sect and have your own disciples.
Therefore I have to give you some advice. You have to work hard
now. Don’t think that you can reach the sky with just a good name.”

The arm Yan Zhengming uses to support himself shakes. Anger and
humiliation mix with each other like water and dirt, forming a swamp
in which Yan Zhengming sinks. His self-hatred is even deeper than
his resentment.
“Most senior brother, what’s wrong? Say something!” Li Yun shakes
his shoulders.

Yan Zhengming’s eyes begin to focus again. He lifelessly looks at Li

Yun, then Cheng Qian, then Han Yuan, thinking, “Master was wrong.
Me, a jewel? I’m not even a rock. Just a puddle of mud that can’t
even be used to build a house.”

Their master must have been senile. Why else would he have given
the sect leader seal to Yan Zhengming?

Yan Zhengming feels the name “Fuyao” is like a range of mountains

that he has to carry. Yet he is too tired to bear it.

“I…” He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t say a full sentence,
as if his mouth were blocked by bile.

At this moment, Cheng Qian raises his voice. He asks, “When are
we leaving?”

The whole group are stunned to hear these words.

Yan Zhengming may run away as soon as the battle begins. Han
Yuan and Li Yun may not be really determined. Any of them can say
this line, but it shouldn’t come from Cheng Qian.

This third brother is an eccentric among the group from Fuyao

Mountain. Everyone who has eyes can see that he focuses on
cultivation to the point of caring about nothing else. Whoever opens
the library for him can ask him to do anything. Why would he suggest
leaving himself?

Han Yuan asks with a low voice, “Young senior brother, what did you
say? Leave for where?”

“Fuyao Mountain,” Cheng Qian says coldly, “Let’s take our most
senior brother back first. Except for the books from our library, I don’t
want to bring anything back. I will go and hire a boat; give me some
coins.”

As he says it, Cheng Qian walks to the other side of Yan Zhengming
and carries him together with Li Yun. They lead the group to get out
of the crowd.

“Wait, Xiao-Qian, listen to me!” Li Yun says with a low voice, “He is
giving his lecture. There’ll be lots of pointers on cultivation. Don’t you
want to stay and listen?”

“No. Stay if you want,” Cheng Qian’s face is expressionless, “I’m

leaving. I don’t care.”
Han Yuan and Li Yun of course can’t stay by themselves. The lecture
has started for less than ten minutes. They attract a lot of attention
as they leave. Even Zhou Hanzheng’s eyes are focused on them.
Unable to do anything, Li Yun has to turn and says to Zhou
Hanzheng on the platform. “Left Guardian, please excuse us, our
Sect Leader isn’t feeling well.”

Zhou Hanzheng waves his fan theatrically and says to Li Yun with a
mocking tone. “Ah I see. Then tell your Sect Leader to take care of
himself better.”

Then Zhou Hanzheng’s glance moves to Cheng Qian, who is turning

his back to him, and drawls condescendingly, “That boy, ah, that boy
who dared to hurt a person’s face, you’re nothing special, but your
swordplay looked somewhat interesting. If you want to progress, you
should come visit my subordinate and get tested. Maybe you can
find some proper training for sword fighting.”
Cheng Qian keeps on walking as if he heard nothing. He carries Yan
Zhengming without even turning back.
Han Yuan awkwardly looks at the dark expression on Cheng Qian’s
face, uncertain if the younger boy really didn’t hear the offer. He
lowers his voice and tries to intervene. “Little senior brother, that
guy…”

Cheng Qian grits out the first swear word in his life, “Fuck him.”

Having no other choice, Han Yuan has to shut up and follows his
disciple brothers.

Half the crowd in the clearing are watching them with mockery or
amusement at their hang dog expressions.
A youth is afraid of nothing except being looked down on. This
applies not just for Cheng Qian, but also Yan Zhengming, Li Yun, or
even Han Yuan.

Li Yun turns away, crudely swiping the tears in his eyes.

When they’re about the leave the clearing on the mountain side that
is used as the Lecture Hall, someone shouts loudly from behind
them, “Stop!”

That person immediately rushes forward and blocks the boys’ path.
She is no other than the charmless cultivator Tang Wanqiu.

Her desperate fight against the demon Jiang Peng helped Cheng
Qian a lot. He once even thought that he should try to visit this self-
willed cultivator named Tang if the sect stayed on the island for a
long time. He didn’t expect that their stay would be so unpleasant.

At this point, his heart is filled with an anger that can’t wait to lash
out; he has no good will even for Tang Wanqiu. When he sees that
she is blocking their way, Cheng Qian takes off the sword on Yan
Zhengming’s waist and raises it in front of him. He speaks with a
pretty rude tone, “Tang Zhenren, what guidance do you have for us?”
Tang Wanqiu says harshly, “Are you considering the Lecture Hall a
market where anyone can come and go as they wish?”

On the other side, Li Yun tries to suppress his temper. He has to

squeeze his free hand and grit his teeth for a moment, before he can
talk with a calm tone. “We have notified Left Guardian Zhou that we
are taking our sect leader and most senior brother back to our
place.”

Tang Wanqiu interrupts him. “Can that little fall make him disabled
and thus need all of you to carry him? Do you need me to call a
great palanquin with eight carriers for you?”
Li Yun falters, “We…”
Cheng Qian steps forward. Under the terrified eyes of Li Yun, he
recklessly says to Tang Wanqin. “Step aside!”

Tang Wanqiu glances from Yan Zhengming and stops at Cheng

Qian. She smirks. “Shame turning to anger. I get it, you are planning
to run away from here? What a bunch of trash.”
Cheng Qian’s slowly unsheathes the sword a little.

As if not knowing what being reasonable is, Tang Wanqiu still doesn’t
let them off. “What? Am I wrong? Aren’t you so ashamed that you
want to give up?”

Cheng Qian aggressively draws Yan Zhengming’s sword, throwing

aside the priceless scabbard without a care, and recklessly charges
forward heedless of his disciple brothers’ shouts behind.
In the past half-year, Cheng Qiang practiced his swordplay ten hours
a day. Even if he doesn’t make extraordinary progress, he can at
least imbue his qi in the technique. Normally, he only uses a wooden
sword so the power is limited. That day he uses a real sword for the
first time, in addition to the move “The youth travels” in “The roc
crosses ten thousand miles”, thus creating a killing intent without
holding back.

Tang Wanqiu shouts, “Good attack!”

She doesn’t even draw her sword, using only the scabbard to meet
the attack. Before the point of the sword even arrives, the difference
between the two sets of sword energy can be clearly seen. Cheng
Qian’s wrists immediately lose all feelings; a tear appears on his
mouth’s corner. However, he doesn’t drop the sword; on the contrary,
he changes the move to counterattack.

It’s a move from Seek and Pursue, “Return to the origin”.

The sound of metal clashing against stone is heard again. Tang

Wanqiu flips her wrist, directing the scabbard to suppress the
reckless move of Cheng Qian. The Right Guardian of Lecture Hall
forces Cheng Qian to be down on one knee.

Li Yun cries, “Stop, Xiao-Qian! Most senior brother, quickly, tell Xiao-
Qian to stop!”
There is no blood left in Yan Zhengming’s lips. His mind is a live
wire, a voice angrily screaming in his heart. “You let a kid fight for
you! What is the use of you keeping the sect leader seal?! What is
the use of you living?”
However, his body can’t move as if frozen.

Wealth is this world is transient, the turns of events are

unpredictable. Yan Zhengming feels as if his body has been cut
open mercilessly with a knife, and all of his weakness and
uselessness is pulled out for all the world to see, like rotten wood
after the shiny gilt has been stripped off.
Tang Wanqiu doesn’t seem to mind. She laughs. “What? You still
want to fight with me? Don’t the adults in your family teach you what
“know your ability” looks like?”

Sweats drench Cheng Qian’s hair on the temples. He suddenly

growls and uses all of his strength to turn the sword, the not-yet-fully-
developed teenage bones making a cracking sound. As if not feeling
the pain, he points the sword upward at the direction of Tang
Wanqiu.

This is the move “All or nothing” in the third set of Fuyao wooden
sword style, Not according to wish.

Tang Wanqiu’s bushy eyebrows drew together. The sword flies from
the scabbard with a screech, flashing a light white as snow. That
quick movement blows Cheng Qian a good distance away.
She puts the sword in the scabbard with a cold hmph. “No matter
how hard-working you are, you’ll have to practice for a hundred more
years to be able to fight me. But I don’t think someone who is scared
before reaching the road like you will see that day.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tang Wanqiu,” Cheng Qian says with a hoarse
voice. He plants the point of the sword in the ground, recklessly
stands up again, and wipes away the blood on his mouth corner.

When he thinks that he is all alone, he feels very free wherever he

goes.

A human, whether climbing to the peak or falling into the abyss, is

still a human. Whether his head falls off his neck, it’s just a tiny
wound. Why does he have to be afraid?

However, he subconsciously feels that his body is full of pain. A

touch is enough to hurt him to the point of wishing to die, which
forces him to instinctively withdraw against his wish.
Cheng Qian looks at the person who is blocking his way with fury in
his eyes. He grits his teeth, “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of
anyone.”

He tries to stand up several times, but falls down just as many times.
His teenage growing body that seems a little thin in the big robe
shakes, but there is no fear in him.

The way he shakes makes Yan Zhengming’s eyes blur for a

moment.

Out of a sudden, Yan Zhengming shouts and extricates himself from

Li Yun. He steps forward and carries Cheng Qian in his arms.

Are you indeed the useless mud? The questions of Yan Zhengming
to himself repeatedly stab like a merciless knife in his chest. Do you
want your sect to be a ‘useless’ sect that does nothing but hides on
the mountain? Do you want your ancestral masters in the afterlife to
be ashamed? Do you want the lineage that your master, who
accepts lingering on in the body of an animal, defies everything to
pass on to be ended for real?

He? The very first disciple of the lineage who has neither
precedence or repetition?

Yan Zhengming breathes heavily for a while, his eyes seeing nothing
but blood. Then he turns to Tang Wanqiu without any hesitation and
stresses every word, “We don’t want to leave yet. Even if we leave,
it’s not now.”

Tang Wanqiu just stands there unmoved like a rock.

Yan Zhengming carries Cheng Qian with some trouble and then
walks past Tang Wanqiu.
Li Yun and Han Yuan hastily run after them. This time Tang Wanqiu
doesn’t stop the group. She stands unmoving in her place like a
pole. It isn’t until they have been far off that she expressionlessly
redoes her messy hair, casting a lonely shadow.

A servant of the Lecture Hall who is on patrol sees her and hastily
runs to her with a smile full of flattery, “Good day to you, Tang-
Zhenren. Why don’t you join us? Zhou-Zhenren is giving the opening
lecture.”

Tang Wanqiu doesn’t give him any regard. She doesn’t even look up.
“One of the great shames of my life is to be on the same path as that
guy.”

Having said that, she arrogantly walks off.

The way from the clearing on the mountainside that is used for the
Lecture Hall to their accommodation seems to be endless. Tang
Wanqiu actually held back in her attacks. Except for the arm he hurts
himself in his stubbornness, Cheng Qian doesn’t have any injury. He
only needs a good rest. However, he is quiet the entire time on the
road.

In the end, as they reach the door to their building, Li Yun can’t stand
it any longer and asks, “Most senior brother, what are we going go
do?”
Yan Zhengming has absolutely no clue. He feels as if the road ahead
has no end, but he doesn’t want his junior disciple brothers to see
his helplessness. He tries to force himself to act as usual and say
with a shrug. “Who knows. We will think as we make each step
forward.”
Han Yuan doesn’t bother to be roundabout. He asks directly. “Most
senior brother, when will we stop being pushed around?”
Yan Zhengming has no answer for this. He silently pats Han Yuan’s
head and walks inside with a heavy heart.
Some people are probably born with the ability to bear the weight of
many things in their minds, who can keep thinking about the smallest
issue for several days. Unfortunately for Yan Zhengming, he is of a
carefree nature. He lets the servants and maids leave and tries to
make peace with his seldom heavy heart.

However, even as the sun has set, he is still losing the battle.

He knows well that he should practice his swordplay behind the

building, or take up the burin, or finally meditate to build up his
energy reserve, but he can’t find the calmness to do any of those.

Yan Zhengming is lost in the thousands of troubles in his heart, not

knowing where to start. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, trying to
think of a way out for his sect. Unfortunately, in his short life, he has
never paid attention to anything besides his appearance. No matter
how hard he searches in his head, he can’t find anything.

His anger builds up and he is annoyed that he is unable to yell or

destroy something to let it out.

At this moment, the door opens with a creak.

Yan Zhengming takes a deep breath and impatiently says, “Zhe Shi,
didn’t I tell you that I want to go to sleep?”

“It’s me.”

Yan Zhengming is surprised into sitting up. “Copper Coin, what are
you doing here?”
Cheng Qian is holding a small jar of ointment, which is probably
used to heal the injuries from falling. Ever since he increased his
sword practice by two hours, his body regularly smells of this
mystery balm.

“I want to check your injuries,” Cheng Qian says simply.

Yan Zhengming falls into silence and lets him clumsily abuse the
bruises on his body.
After Cheng Qian has tidied up everything and is about to walk off
with the towel in hand, Yan Zhengming suddenly remembers and
calls him back, “Xiao-Qian, don’t you have anything to ask me?”
Cheng Qian hesitates for a moment then says, “Today, when you fell
from the platform, you called ‘Master’”

Having said that, as if uncertain how to offer his consolation, he

awkwardly stands where he is, then tries to pat Yan Zhengming’s
shoulders.

Cheng Qian realises that, as usual, he runs out of ideas as soon as

he says anything. He sighs quietly in defeat.
Yan Zhengming says. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Cheng Qian doubtfully looks at him. “So what then?”

Why don’t you ask, for example, which path our sect should take? Or
when will the sect leader and most senior brother finally do
something?

At this moment, Yan Zhengming realises just how Cheng Qian is

different from the others. He has never cared what plan the current
sect leader has, or hopes to rely on someone powerful to avoid
troubles on Azure Dragon Island. If he is bullied, he increases the
amount of time for sword practice. Whether the sky would fall or the
ground would split apart, he only sees that path like a shining line in
his heart.
“Our Master showed you the entire set of Fuyao Wooden Sword,
didn’t he?” Yan Zhengming suddenly changes the topic.

Cheng Qian nods. “But I don’t understand the latter three forms yet.”

“It’s fine as long as you remember them,” Yan Zhengming puts on his
outer robe and picks up the sword that has brought him countless
humiliation. “Let’s go to the backyard. Help me record the full set of
Fuyao Wooden Sword.”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 37

Many thanks to InkSplatterM and MrMrsMissRandom again. You guys are

awesome!

*******
There are two mountains at opposite ends of Azure Dragon Island.
On the mountain at the further end, where the sea waves and the
forest connect all the way to the horizon, someone is moving as fast
as a gust of wind, aiming straight for the wall of rock.

The person taps the ridge of the mountain a few times with the tips
of his feet, then climbs up as if he were riding on the wind and the
clouds. He aims at a bush of “dried weed” that has neither leaf nor
flower and takes the entire bush, including the root. Then he turns
and grabs the rock with his fingers, launching himself onto the
mountain side.

This person’s control over his movements is so adept that it

becomes casual. However, as he lands, it turns out that he is a youth
of just fifteen or sixteen years old. He turns his head and glances at
the sun setting over the mountain cliff, then walks fast forward with a
slight curl of his lips.

It isn’t until this point in time that the giant hawk guarding the “dried
weed” from the early morning realises that what it has been guarding
was stolen. It screeches and puffs up its feathers like a chicken. The
animal however is pretty smart and realises that it shouldn’t mess
with this person. It flies around on the spot, not daring to pursue the
youth. In just a short moment, the youth’s figure already blends with
the thick forest and can’t be seen anymore.
Suddenly, the long whistle echoes through the forest. The giant hawk
startles and flies up away from the cliff. Several other whistles reply,
forming a surrounding circle in the forest. These people must be
waiting beforehand.

The birds of the forest fly up screaming. They go back and forth a
few rounds and then disperse.

The youth’s expression doesn’t change at all as he hears the

whistles. He carefully shakes off the mud and dirt on the root of the
‘dried weed’, puts it inside his robe, and twirls the wooden sword in
his hand. He says with a tsk, “You cling like a bad smell.”
This youth is indeed Cheng Qian.

Five years pass by in a blink of the eye. The boy grows up into a
youth. The words his most senior brother gifted him in the “Land of
Tenderness” when they first met have become true. His looks
haven’t diminished a bit.

In a second, four or five figures emerge from the forest. The

ringleader, whose face is like a lump of coal, is Zhang Dasen.

Before going to Azure Dragon Island, the primordial spirit of Zhang

Dasen was already at “lesser achievement” level, so he has some
fame among the rogue cultivators. He uses a double-ended lance,
displaying an arrogant attitude. Day in and day out, a bunch of rogue
cultivators flatter him, so he preens even more.

“It’s that brat again.” In the past five years, the feud between Zhang
Dasen and Cheng Qian doesn’t go away. On the contrary, it gets
even worse. Zhang Dasen growls as soon as he recognises it’s
Cheng Qian, “If you have any brain, hand it over here.”
Cheng Qian keeps his hands behind his back, the wooden sword
hanging in parallel to his body. He taps his feet slightly, making a
vaguely confused face as if to say ‘I don’t understand why that dog is
barking’.
Zhang Dasen likes to provoke and intimidate. If the other side talks
back at him, he will be somewhat fine with that. However, whenever
he sees Cheng Qian’s impassive face as if nothing happens, he can
explode with anger.

A companion of Zhang Dasen speaks to Cheng Qian with a cold

smile, “My young fellow cultivator, if you have any sense, give us
‘Crow Nest Grass’ immediately! Otherwise we won’t show you any
courtesy!”
Hearing that, Cheng Qian immediately turns to him. Holding the
sword in his hand, he politely bows to that companion and says, “I
dare not to accept such regard. Feel free to give me your guidance.”

Facing this kind of insolent attitude, the group that surround Cheng
Qian look at each other and then charge forward at the same time.

In just a few seconds, it can be seen that these ambushers already

have a plan, with clear assignment of attackers, supporters, sneak
attackers, those who block the escape, etc. However, Cheng Qian
shows no panic at all. He deals with the group deftly.

Obviously, both sides are used to this kind of ganging up.

Wind rises from the sweep of Zhang Dasen’s double-headed lance

and tightly surrounds Cheng Qian. The three goons from behind
charge at him; the last one moves to behind Cheng Qian and
slashes the sabre from above down to Cheng Qian’s spine with a
shout.
Cheng Qian doesn’t even turn back. The wooden sword in his hand
is like a snake that strikes precisely at the wrist of the one that
sneak-attacks him. Then, he puts the whole weight of his body on
this point, the splinters from his wooden sword that is shaved by the
opponent’s sabre flying out like nails.

The group of Zhang Dasen hastily avoid those, which disturbs their
formation a little. With this chance, Cheng Qian detects an opening
in their qi barrier. He grasps a tree branch and and launches above
like a bird through that opening.

Zhang Dasen and his group instinctively pursue him. However, they
aren’t as agile as Cheng Qian. Then, before they know it, they no
longer maintain the proper distance with the others.
This mistake is caught by Cheng Qian in a split second.

He uses the “Withdrawing tide contains the wind’s sentiment”,

making the tree branches stir wildly. Having no place to deploy his
double-ended lance, Zhang Dasen has no other choice than to stand
there and get hit in the face by a gust of sword energy.

Then, paying no heed to the one carrying the demon vanquishing

baton that pursues him with cultivational tools, Cheng Qian dives
from the air. As soon as he lands, he charges forward at high speed
and hits the big old tree with his palms.
There is a saying that “the monkeys disperse when the tree falls”,
Cheng Qian’s attackers on the tree can’t escape in time. As they
realise that what they are standing on is about to fall, they hastily
stumble down. When they can get out of the entangling tree
branches, Cheng Qian has already gone too far to be caught.
From a distance, Cheng Qian brushes off the leaves on his robe and
clasps his hands to salute Zhang Dasen as if to say “sorry to trouble
you, thanks for the guidance”. Then his form quickly blends into the
evening sunlight and disappears in a blink of the eye.

In these recent years, Fuyao Sect stay on Azure Dragon Island.

They are lucky that their tormentor Zhou Hanzheng only showed up
once at Lecture Hall on the first day. Afterwards, he hasn’t showed
up to cause trouble for them again.

The Lecture Hall has two chief Guardians. Tang Wanqiu comes from
Mulan Mountain. Zhou Hanzheng doesn’t come from Azure Dragon
either. The problem is his origin is even more of a mystery than Tang
Wanqiu’s; someone of Han Yuan’s station can’t uncover such
information. It wasn’t until the celestial market opened that Tang
Wanqiu arrived with Yan Zhengming’s group, but Zhou Hanzheng
arrived even later than she did, and he left immediately after the
Lecture Hall opened for the first time.

After him, most of the prominent cultivators who give lectures from
the platform maintain behaviours that fit their station. They only say
what they need to say then leave, paying no attention to the rogue
cultivators from all walks of life below.

Yan Zhengming finally understands the rebuke he received for his

ostentatious behaviours when arriving at the island. After that first
day, the group arrive at the clearing before the sun rises and find a
spot with good view, then settle down to carve talismans or read
swordplay manuals to wait for the lecture to start. After the lecture is
over, they leave just as quietly.

Gradually, Fuyao Sect becomes forgotten by those who have

nothing to do with them; the youths seemingly become invisible.
Except for Cheng Qian, who with time appears in public with his
disciple brothers less and less. He always comes and goes by
himself.
He doesn’t yet have the ability to protect everyone in his sect, so he
settles for attracting all hostile attention against the sect on himself,
trying his best to bear everything.

The year before, Yan Zhengming hired a large boat to take most of
the servants and the girls like Yu-er who had reached maturity back
to the Yan family. In the end, they were still mortals, their youth
lasting only for little more than a decade, so there was no time to
waste.

Only Xue Qing and Zhe Shi wished to stay and walk the endless
path to immortality with the sect.
As Fuyao Sect went from having many people to only a few, the
whole group shared the same building, and cultivated in the
quietness.

There is no turn of seasons on Azure Dragon Island. The residents

only have a vague grasp of time. If they don’t pay attention, they
won’t know how many years have passed.

In those five years, after countless discussions, Yan Zhengming and

Cheng Qian managed to record the full set of Fuyao Wooden Sword.
They taught it to Li Yun, who in turn taught Han Yuan.

Whether it was thanks to “teaching is the best way to learn” or that

Yan Zhengming finally focused after the upheavals, he finally
mastered his swordplay on Azure Dragon Island, in a contrast to the
time on Fuyao Mountain when he hadn’t even managed to learn
three forms in eight years.
Puddle too grows from a toddler who had been learning to speak to
a child. Perhaps because she has been facing hardship from inside
the egg, whoever she takes after, she is very calm. Ever since she
could speak, she no longer cries. Whatever problem she finds
herself in, she steadily babbles and bargains her way out with her
disciple brothers. Furthermore, she somehow achieves the special
technique of “nagging”, which works every time. As long as she can
talk to the point one of her disciple brothers can no longer stand it,
she will get what she wants.
About this quirk of hers, her disciple brothers have discreetly
discussed about the mythical lineage of the yao queen, and come to
the conclusion that maybe the yao queen’s true form was a myna.
Otherwise, how could she have given birth to such a talkative egg?

Cheng Qian brings the crow nest grass like a bunch of dried weed
back to their place. As he reaches the gate of the building, he can’t
help the grimace on his face. When he was on the tree, he couldn’t
avoid it and was hit with the demon vanquishing baton by one of
Zhang Dasen’s goons. There is likely a bruise like a greenish
centipede on his back, where just a slight touch hurts.
Cheng Qian tries to have a look. As it turns out, as soon as he turns
his neck, his back feels like it is going to break into two. He can only
console himself that at least he is wearing dark-coloured clothes
today, so it can be hidden a little.
Adjusting his posture with some difficulty, Cheng Qian stiffly walks
inside.

He only sees little Puddle in the yard, who is looking moody.

Someone has carved a ring of spell on the ground around her, which
defines her range of movement. The handwriting of that tight spell
without an unnecessary stroke most likely belongs to their most
senior brother. From how this little disciple sister is educated, it can
be seen that their sect leader and most senior brother is adept in the
art of being “strict to other people, easy to himself”.
A book about magic is hanging from Puddle’s neck. It’s no other than
the “Scripture of Serenity”, which used to make her disciple brothers
want to die numerous times. This artifact is such a terrible heirloom
that torment countless generations to the end of days. It’s said that
just looking at it gives Han Yuan a headache.

“Third Brother!” Puddle greets Cheng Qian like a saviour. She cries,
“Third Brother, save me!”

Sweeping his gaze across her, Cheng Qian asks, “Is Second Brother
here?”

Full of hope, Puddle hastily nods. “Yes, yes, Second Brother…”

Li Yun’s voice comes from a nearby room. “Why are you home so
late? What did you do?”

Cheng Qian just replies with a noncommittal hum. Without looking at

Puddle, he walks inside the room.

Puddle miserably cries from behind his back, “Hey! Don’t go! Let me
go! I want to go to the toilet, I’m about to pee right here!”
She has used this trick so many times it no longer works on her
disciple brothers. Cheng Qian shakes his head. A window opens and
Li Yun looks out, coldly rejecting Puddle. “Go ahead, then clean up
after yourself.”

Puddle bawls without tears. “No! Second Brother, Third Brother, I’m
still too young! I don’t want to learn this stupid scripture! You can’t
treat me like this! Our Master in Heaven will be upset if he knows!”

Unable to turn away, Cheng Qian smiles an encouraging smile for

the sake of their sect and gently soothes her. “No he won’t, little
sister. Our Master did the same to us back then.”

Puddle: “…”
Ignoring the cries of their disciple sister, Cheng Qian walks straight
into Li Yun’s room. He closes the window to block the sound outside.
As soon as he is out of view, he changes sides and tries to help her.
“She is just six. What’s the point of forcing her? Was the spell made
by our Noble Consort? Back then our Master never ever locked him
in the Hall for Teaching of the Tao.”

Li Yun’s room is littered with junk paper and old books, herbs and
talismans strewn everywhere. Hearing that, he emerges from the pile
of paper and says, “Can’t you see it? Our sect has no method to
cultivate the energy for beginners, but we aren’t behind anyone
when it comes to qi absorption. Think about it, our most senior
brother did nothing but amused himself day in and day out, but he
could become an official practitioner in just about three years. Why is
that?”

Cheng Qian asks, “It can’t be those scriptures?”

“Stop talking,” Li Yun pulls out a chart of meridians from a corner.

The page is full of dots and notes. Cheng Qian feels his head ache
just looking at it. Li Yun says, “Recently I discover that there can be
some mythical technique hidden in our Master’s Scripture of
Serenity.”

At this point, Cheng Qian realises he has been really disrespectful to

“Scripture of Serenity which hides mythical technique”. He hastily
asks, “What mythical technique?”

“I don’t know yet,” Li Yun heartlessly says, “This has been

accumulated by our sect for thousands of years. It can’t be that easy
to decode, so I let Puddle try it out first.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He glances outside through an slight opening of the window. He can
see that the experiment subject Puddle is squatting miserably in the
ring of spells. She flips through the handwritten scripture with a pout,
looking very pitiful.

Cheng Qian sighs. “Fine. It’s not the first time you used us to “try”
stuffs. Reading that scripture several more times shouldn’t hurt. But,
what about her yao energy?”

Li Yun annoyedly tears at his hair. “I’ve been planning to discuss this
with you. I’m afraid talismans will soon be insufficient to suppress her
yao energy the older she is. If we want to make medicine to deal with
it, we still need the ‘crow nest grass’. I’ve been searching for it in
vain for a year. If this goes on any longer, we have no other choice
than asking someone to look for that herb outside the island.”

Hearing that, Cheng Qian smiles.

Li Yun is surprised. “What?”

Cheng Qian takes from his robe a small package wrapped in paper.
As he places it on the table, the crow nest grass that looks just like
dried weed inside can be seen.

Li Yun is startled to see that package. He grabs the crow nest grass
and babbles, “Where did you find it? It is the main ingredient to
create medicine for energy. If it grows on this island, someone is
bound to watch it closely.”

“Uhm, I robbed it,” Cheng Qian waves his hand. “Stop asking. It’s
fine as long as you can use it. I’m going.”

He makes a step as soon as he says that. Li Yun suddenly puts a

hand on his shoulder. Cheng Qian groans as he nearly collapses
from that slight touch.
Li Yun becomes annoyed. “Wait! What happened?”
Cheng Qian’s bad habits grow with his age. As soon as he finds out
something, he will take action without discussing with anyone. He
gets injured all the time as he steals the herbs, but refuses to talk no
matter how much he is asked. Only thanks to Han Yuan’s
eavesdropping that the others can retrace Cheng Qian’s steps and
guess why he fights with someone again.

“It’s nothing. Ouch,” Cheng Qian tries to ignore the pain and rotates
his shoulder a little for Li Yun to see. “I probably got a crick in the
neck for the morning, then bumped into a staff a little. Don’t mention
it to our Noble Consort or he’ll make a fuss again.”
As the saying goes, speak of the devil and he will appear. Before
Cheng Qian finishes his speech, the curtain of the room stirs a little.
Yan Zhengming elegantly walks out.

Yan Zhengming looks at him with a vague curl of his lips and asks,
“Who are you talking about?”

Cheng Qian coughs. “Most senior brother.”

Luckily for him, Yan Zhengming doesn’t seem intent to pursue the
topic for the time being. He puts down the old book in his hand and
speaks to Li Yun. “About what you said, I indeed want to return to
Fuyao Mountain for a while. Firstly I recently realised some details,
so I would like to come back and check them against our records.
The library tower is messy, but the inheritance of our sect has been
intact, so we likely can find some clues. Furthermore…”

He frowns a little. “Last year, I sent Yu-er and the other maids home
because they had reached maturity. I asked them to send letters
from my family, but I haven’t received any reply yet. Letters aren’t
forbidden on Azure Dragon Island, yet they are gone without any
word back. I wonder if something has happened, so I want to pass
by my family on the way to check too.”

“The problem is we may not be allowed to leave the island once we

are permitted to attend Lecture Hall,” Li Yun muses. “How about
this? You send Xue Qing or Zhe Shi to go in your place. I heard that
Zhe Shi reached qi sensitivity a couple of days ago? Maybe he can
enter the library tower already?”

“Not everyone who has qi sensitivity can enter the library tower. Back
then Copper Coin and I received direct guidance from our Master,”
Yan Zhengming shakes his head. “Well, there is no haste to re-
organise our sect’s method for cultivating energy. We’ll still have lots
of time in the future. I’ll ask Xue Qing to bring home a letter first then
go to Fuyao Mountain to check.”

As the other two are discussing, Cheng Qian intends to quietly

escape. However, as soon as he reaches the door, Han Yuan hastily
rushes in, nearly smashing the door in his face.

“Ouch, Xiao-Qian, what are you doing?!” Having accidentally

revealed Cheng Qian’s movement, “Most senior brother, big news!”

Yan Zhengming gives Cheng Qian a glare. He steps back with a

frown and raises his arm like a shield. “Don’t talk so fast. Your spit is
all over my face.”
Han Yuan isn’t bothered. He just laughs and says. “That coal-faced
Zhang Dasen got beaten by someone. His face is swollen like a ripe
peach, to the point that even his neck can’t be seen.”

Without any arrangement beforehand, the gazes of Yan Zhengming

and Li Yun focus on Cheng Qian at the same time. Coughing a little,
Cheng Qian pretends to watch the scenery outside the window.
Han Yuan continues. “Secondly, a big boat arrived at the dock, so I
went to check. Apparently that Zhou asshole is back.”

Zhou Hanzheng?

Cheng Qian doesn’t try to escape anymore. He leans against the

door, his fingers instinctively brushing against the wooden sword.

“The last time he returned here, it was before Lecture Hall opened.
So I guess something big is going to happen here again,” Han Yuan
says with certainty. “What do you think will happen?”

He reports things like a street storyteller. None of his three senior

brothers bother to reply. Han Yuan ends up having to smile and
reluctantly reveal it himself. “I heard that, there will be a big
tournament among the attendees of the Lecture Hall. Those who
distinguish themselves can become an official member of Azure
Dragon Island and cultivate in the main hall.”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 38

Thanks as always to MrMissMrsRandom for the awesome editing

work!

*******
Cheng Qian isn’t excited about that news at all. He has never been
interested in boring things like contests or tournaments, because he
considers them unnecessary.

As he grows older, his prideful heart was forged through doubts, and
becomes even more set in its ways. Nowadays, in Cheng Qian’s
eyes, there are only two kinds of people: those who are lesser than
him in the present, and those who will be lesser than him in the
future.

His back was starting to unbearably hurt. Cheng Qian doesn’t want
to stay any longer. He says simply, “If there is nothing else, I’m
leaving.”
“Wait, I’m not done with you yet. Stay there,” Yan Zhengming says.
He then turns to Han Yuan. “Are you done with the daily thirty
wooden talismans?”

Han Yuan: “…”

Seeing that, Yan Zhengming raises his eyebrow. “Then what do
tournaments or contests have to do with you? Go and start working,
quick!”
Han Yuan pales. He dares not say anything else.

Their sect leader is no longer like the past. From a dandy that did
nothing but played around, he has become a dandy whose words
have weight.

As if to be contrarian after the humiliation on the platform at Lecture

Hall five years ago, he ignores everyone else’s opinion and makes
an incomprehensible decision. He insists on keeping the Fuyao
Sect’s tradition of using the recitation of scriptures as the gateway
exercise for beginners, and of cultivating energy by carving
talismans. Even if they have little choice and have to begin
cultivating their base energy like everyone else, they have to spend
extra time on these two tasks.
As explanation, Yan Zhengming said with some self-mockery, “At this
age, I have nothing to commend myself besides the face granted by
my parents. What right do I have to change the thousand-year
tradition of our sect? Furthermore, even if our sect tradition looks
nonsensical, it’s still a legacy of our Master.”
This last line was what convinced Cheng Qian, the only one among
them who objected to their sect leader’s attitude of dropping the fight
as soon as the battle began.

Li Yun historically had opinions but no fortitude to back them up. As

soon as someone made the decision, he’d follow. As for Han Yuan,
he didn’t even have opinions. Thus the matter was settled.

After five years, this decision, which looked silly at first glance,
turned out to be correct.

After absorbing qi, it isn’t simple to build up an energy base. Once

the cultivation path starts, the practitioner has to undergo a
bottleneck period every three years, each time is like a lesser
heavenly tribulation. With the slightest mistake, the cultivation level
may stagnate for several years. Or worse, the practitioner may have
a qi deviation.

A mortal, once they set their foot on the endless path of cultivation,
has to undergo such challenges to refine themselves time and time
again.

Back then, Muchun Zhenren never urged his disciples to build up

their energy bases. Had it not been for his sudden death, the
disciples would likely still be chewing on the scriptures and talismans
in the Hall for the Teaching of the Tao for many more years. This
process is very tedious, in addition to yielding no visible results.
However, with the daily exercise, the meridians will be highly
developed and fortified.

The idea is indeed, “sharpening the knife so that there won’t be

trouble cutting the wood.”

On that basis, once the time is right and the disciple begins to build
up the energy base per the conventional practice, even if there is no
extraordinary progress, the process will be much faster, and the
bottleneck period will also be relatively less painful.

Unfortunately, how many people in the world would spend years to

sharpen the knife when the wood in front of them is seemingly so
easy to get?
After reprimanding Han Yuan, Yan Zhengming waves at Cheng Qian
to follow him, then walks outside.

Puddle, who is squatting in the middle of the yard, greets Yan

Zhengming as he emerges like a saviour, as if she were a bird that
had been caged for a long time.
Everytime he sees her, Yan Zhengming feels like he is looking at
himself all those years ago. A sudden parental sentiment rising in his
heart, he flicks his fingers and sends out a waft of force at the spell
around Puddle’s feet. A hole appears in that tightly wrought ring of
spell. The energy inside immediately leaks out, creating a little
whirlwind on the spot.
Thus liberated, Puddle immediately sits down on the ground. Using a
wild tone learnt from somewhere, she wails, rocking back and forth,
“Oh my gooood, this old woman is tired to death.”

Yan Zhengming stops upon hearing that. Sensing trouble, Puddle

hastily stands up, using her dirty hands to dust off herself. She tries
to be clever with that untidy appearance. “Ahaha thank you, most
senior brother.”
This action makes Yan Zhengming’s eyes twitch. He can’t stand it
any longer and walks off, saying to Cheng Qian, “If she turns out to
be like Tang Wanqiu, I’ll have to expel her from the sect.”
“That won’t happen,” Cheng Qian consoles him. “She is after all the
daughter of the yao queen. I heard that usually the children from
adultery don’t look too ugly.”

Sect Leader Yan: “…”

He doesn’t feel any better about it.
Yan Zhengming pushes open the door of his room. Face chilly, he
tells Cheng Qian to get in with a tilt of his chin. Cheng Qian stays at
the door for a little while. Even if the scent of perfume in Yan
Zhengming’s room has faded significantly after Yu-er left, Cheng
Qian still sneezes as usual once the door opens.

He rubs his nose and looks at the flower branch on the table, which
is kept forever fresh and fixed there with a spell. He inwardly sighs at
the incurable fancy taste of his sect leader and senior brother, feeling
that he can’t ever stand it.

Zhe Shi stands up and says, “Sect Leader.”

“I don’t need you for now. You can go,” Yan Zhengming says,
“Tomorrow after the lecture, tell Xue Qing to go meet me. I have a
task for him.”
Zhe Shi obeys and gets out. Yan Zhengming closes the door and
crosses his arms. Leaning against the door, he tells Cheng Qian,
“Take off your clothes.”
Cheng Qian: “…”

“Quick,” Yan Zhengming says expressionlessly, “You want to wait for

me to strip you?”

Cheng Qian says, “I don’t…”

Seeing his stubborn attitude, Yan Zhengming keeps his words and
steps forward, planning to “execute the criminal on the spot”.

Seeing that he is determined to pursue the matter, Cheng Qian has

no other choice than to reluctantly take off his belt. He intentionally
disgusts Yan Zhengming by saying, “Most senior brother, I haven’t
bathed for three days. You don’t mind that?”
In a rare exception, Yan Zhengming doesn’t react to that. He pulls off
the messy robe on Cheng Qian’s body. There is a large bruise that
spans from the left shoulder to the right side of the hips, which has
turned black. The sign of broken veins surrounds the bruise like a
spider web, making a chilling sight on the pale back of the youth.
Besides, there are many scars on Cheng Qian’s body. Some of them
are still new, the others have nearly faded. Although being able to
absorb qi doesn’t necessarily mean the person can live without food
or escape bodily functions, the qi still helps the body to be less easily
marred than mortals’. Injuries won’t leave any scar, unless they
haven’t completely healed yet.

Yan Zhengming has to avert his eyes with just a glance. He feels like
someone just smashed his chest, and even his back throbs in a
sympathy pain.

An unreasonable anger against Cheng Qian rises in his heart. He

has to take several deep breaths to keep it under control.

“Get on the bed, your belly down,” Yan Zhengming says. Even with
his effort to control his temper, he can’t resist adding. “If you were
two years younger, I’d certainly beat you until our Master couldn’t
recognise you, you rascal!”

Cheng Qian tries to turn his neck several times but is unable to. He
has no other choice than to lie down and let his most senior brother
rub the poultice on him. At the same time, he still tries to find an
excuse for himself. “These bruises look bad but are nothing… Ouch!”

“Nothing?” Yan Zhengming’s voice gets chillier.

Cheng Qian dares not provoke him anymore. He buries his face in
the blanket and tries to bear the pain.
The demon vanquishing baton carries celestial killing energy. If the
user hadn’t been such an amateur and thus deployed less than a
tenth of its power, that thing could have easily smashed Cheng
Qian’s organs.

The angry words already rise to his lips, but in the end Yan
Zhengming can’t say anything. After everything he has been
through, Yan Zhengming belatedly makes up for the thoughtlessness
of his earlier life.
With his newfound awareness, Yan Zhengming knows too well the
cause of the injuries, large or small, on Cheng Qian’s body...

Looking back, it has to be said that temporary anger and hurt pride
aren’t enough to push him to last through all these years. Yan
Zhengming can’t deny that it is this youngest disciple brother that
pushes him so far.

Cheng Qian has never blamed his sect leader and senior brother for
anything. His attitude from the beginning to the end is consistent: if
you can do it then do it, if you can’t then I’ll do it for you, even if I’m
torn apart.

To Yan Zhengming, each injury on Cheng Qian’s body is like a slap

on his face, forcing him not to take even a short break.

In the most difficult hours when Yan Zhengming can’t sleep all night,
it is this disciple brother that features in his nightmares.

Yan Zhengming’s blanket has a pleasant scent that helps calm the
mind and settles deep in the body. Having waited for an opportunity
by the site of the Crow Nest Grass for several days, Cheng Qian
really is tired. After just a few minutes lying down, he doesn’t want to
move anymore.
When he is done with rubbing the medicine, he can’t resist this
thought when looking at the increasingly thinner waist of the youth in
front of him: It’s me who wears the sect leader seal. Even if I’m
nothing, there is still Li Yun. Even Han Yuan is older than you. Why
can’t you be like Puddle, having no worry through the days? Why do
you have to push yourself like this? What are us senior brothers to
you?

He can say these words to just about everyone. However, when

facing the face that looks tired once his control loosens of Cheng
Qian, he can’t let any word out.

All these years when they lived together, even a ‘thank you’ will
make Yan Zhengming cringe. Such big words are even more
unnecessary.

Such feelings crashing like waves in his heart, in the end Yan
Zhengming awkwardly reminds his disciple brother. “Zhou Hanzheng
has returned, but he won’t stay for long. Whatever happens, you
should let it go. Don’t put yourself out there. Do you hear me?”
Cheng Qian sleepily says something. Obviously the reminder is like
a wind that passes by his ear.
Looking closer, Yan Zhengming realises the rascal has closed his
eyes. Cheng Qian ducks his head a little, his eyelashes slightly
fluttering. There are dark rings under his eyes. What little
childlikeness that remains is masked by the exhaustion.

Yan Zhengming sighs and puts away the poultice. Saying nothing
else, he gently unties Cheng Qiang’s hair bun, adjusts his clothes,
and pulls up the blanket to cover him. Then he sits down next to the
bed to keep watch.

However, after a while, Yan Zhengming can’t sit still, feeling that he
can’t settle into the meditation trance without asking about this
important issue. He resolutely pokes at Cheng Qian. “Hey, have you
really not bathed for three days?”

Cheng Qian shows him an annoyed back.

In the present, Yan Zhengming no longer has the habits of the past.
It’s become normal for him to use deep meditation to replace sleep.
However, his trance is suddenly disturbed when it’s still dark outside,
so he opens his eyes in the middle of the process.
The sun hasn’t risen yet. Cheng Qian is already gone, the blanket is
still warm. Ever since Yan Zhengming knew Cheng Qian, the latter
has never slept until morning.

Yan Zhengming sits in silence for a while. He concentrates his mind

and thinks carefully, He wonders why his mind can’t settle, despite
him being apparently not stuck anywhere. It is as if something is
going to happen.

He lights up the lamp with a wave of his hand, then walks back and
forth in the room several times. Then he takes out three coins and
puts them under the lamp.

Yan Zhengming isn’t knowledgeable in the art of fortune telling. He

saw his master do that one or twice, but whenever he asked, his
master always refused to teach him, saying, “The idea of ‘capability’
is the gilt of the Tao and the root of ignorance1, this is an improper
art. No need for you to know it.”

Something important is about to happen on Azure Dragon Island?

The three coins dance on his nimble finger tips. Yan Zhengming
looks at them, then, letting his thoughts loosen, he sits down and
recites the Scripture of Serenity in a low voice.

Zhou Hanzheng is indeed the star of unluckiness. As soon as he

returns, something unpleasant happens.
The news Han Yuan brought back stands up to the test. The next
day, a great tournament is announced at the Lecture Hall. Both the
Left Guardian, who appeared then was nowhere to be seen, and the
Right Guardian, who has the face of a creditor pursuing their debtor,
are present. They declare that everyone who can perform qi
absorption has to participate. If they don’t want to fight, they can
concede their loss beforehand. Those who distinguish themselves
can enter the main hall to attend lessons given by members of Azure
Dragon Island, without having to become a disciple of the lord of the
island.

In the middle of the endless announcement above, Cheng Qian

doesn’t even look up. He focuses on carving a wooden talisman the
size of a palm.

Yan Zhengming glances at it, then explains to Han Yuan, who is

sitting next to him, “That’s a ‘puppet charm’, which can bear the
disaster for the carrier one time. It’s one of the great seven charms
among the visible ones. It has one hundred and eight strokes in total;
the strokes have to performed one after another; no stroke can be
cut off in the middle; no mistake is allowed. See, just a little mistake
and the charm is ruined.”

The tip of Cheng Qian’s burin is stuck in something, causing spiritual

energy to leak out. Han Yuan, who is nearby, feels a gust of cold and
wet energy fly into his face and dissipate in the air. He stares in awe.

Yan Zhengming lazily leans to a side. Patting Cheng Qian’s

shoulder, he comments, “You dare to try the seven great charms
after just six years of qi absorption. You sure like to create pressure
for other people.”

Cheng Qian throws away the wooden talisman and puts down his
burin. He sits up straight and regulates his energy.
Yan Zhengming continues his explanation to Han Yuan. “Mistakes
happen, sometimes because the carver isn’t skilled enough,
sometimes because that person runs out of energy. In this case,
your Third Brother indeed doesn’t have enough energy. Little Copper
Coin, why do you want to carve this?”
Cheng Qian answers vaguely. “I want to try it once.”
Yan Zhengming quickly discovers why he wants to try once.
When everyone excitedly discusses the grand tournament of Azure
Dragon Island, Yan Zhengming takes Xue Qing to the dock of the
island.

“Try to be quick,” Yan Zhengming says, “You should go to Fuyao

Mountain first, then my family. Check if there is something about to
expire on the mountain and take it with you. Feel free to use my
share.”

Xue Qing has become a young man. He acts even more maturely,
carefully taking note of every order with a nod.

“That’s all, you can…”

“Xue Qing-ge, wait!”

While they talk, a flying horse glides close to the ground towards
them. Before the horse stops properly, Cheng Qian jumps down. His
clothes and hair are messy, probably because of the sea wind. He
still breathes heavily as he lands.

Xue Qing has a mellow and quiet personality, and he cared for
Cheng Qian very thoughtfully when the latter was a child. Compared
to the official most senior brother Yan Zhengming who regularly
caused trouble, Xue Qing was more like a reliable older brother. He
and Cheng Qian are still close.

Xue Qing smiles at Cheng Qian. “I’ll return in just a few days. Take
better care of yourself, Third Disciple Brother.”

“Yes, I know,.” Cheng Qian nods. Then he takes out a brocade

pouch from his robe and gives it to Xue Qing. “I was worried that I
didn’t make it in time. Please take this with you. Be careful when you
travel.”
Being ignored, Yan Zhengming peers at the object and asks, “What
do you have to get here in a haste to give him?”

Xue Qing opens the pouch and takes out the small talisman inside.
Yan Zhengming is stunned. It’s a completed puppet charm.

Cheng Qian says with some embarrassment, “I don’t have enough

power for it so I failed repeatedly. After struggling for days I can only
manage this one. It’s better than nothing. You still have to be careful
though. Afterall, it’s made by me. If you encounter someone more
powerful than I, it’ll be just a useless piece of wood.”

Xue Qing hastily says, “I know. Thank you, Third Disciple Uncle.”
Yan Zhengming is very unhappy. He thinks, There is none for me. All
my effort to raise this brat, yet he has never carved a single flute for
me. He tries so hard to make a puppet charm, only to give it to
someone else. How can it be?

However, as a sect leader, he can’t kick up a fuss without any reason

against his servant and his disciple brother. Yan Zhengming has no
other choice than to assume a serious appearance and solemnly
remind Xue Qing to try and return quickly. After Xue Qing is gone, he
doesn’t even spare Cheng Qian a glance and turns away in a sulk.

However, after just two steps, Yan Zhengming realises that Cheng
Qian is still looking at the departing boat, seemingly lost in thought
and not paying any attention to him. Therefore, Sect Leader Yan
goes back and waits a while. When Cheng Qian turns from the sea
with a heavy heart, Yan Zhengming seizes the opportunity and
makes a loud hmph, then walks away from the uncomprehending
eyes of his disciple brother.
Cheng Qian looks around. As he doesn’t see anyone else present,
he concludes that that hmph of Yan Zhengming was directed at
himself.
Not understanding what’s going on, he asks, “Most senior brother,
what’s wrong with you again?”

Not sparing him a glance, Yan Zhengming keeps on walking. Cheng

Qian really doesn’t know what bothers him, and wishes to just ignore
it. However, his sect leader and senior brother is very troublesome
when he sulks. To avoid being bossed around like a servant, Cheng
Qian has to follow him.

Leaving the horse behind, the two of them, one leading, one
chasing, walk back to their home. At this point, Cheng Qian is
beyond caring which wires of his most senior brother are crossed, he
just follows because there is nothing else to do.

Yan Zhengming slams the door and leaves him outside.

The scene isn’t anything really new to Puddle, who is flipping

through the Scripture of Serenity in boredom in the yard. Normally,
when the most senior brother and the second brother talk to each
other, they negotiate with each other properly, almost like adults. The
fourth brother on the other hand isn’t any different from her, very
rarely daring to cross the most senior brother. Only the third brother
shows the attitude of “I haven’t done anything”, pissing off the most
senior brother to the point of not caring about appearance.
Not having anything better to do, Puddle drawls, “Wow, tell me what
trouble that little villain caused again.”
Cheng Qian walks towards her and pats her head. He then draws a
ring of spell around her and says in a soft voice, “Recite the scripture
thirty times and it will disappear. Don’t stare at me like that. Even the
‘little villain’ can’t help you.”

Puddles feels like a moth that flew too close to the flame.
Cheng Qian leisurely returns to his room. As soon as he opens the
door, the smile on his face freezes. He immediately turns back and
sweeps his gaze around the building. However, there is no one else
besides Puddle, who is reciting the scripture in a low voice.
Cheng Qian stops for a moment. His hand on the wooden sword
hanging on his waist, he carefully walks in and closes the door. It’s
obvious that someone entered the room and left behind something.

It’s a sword. A real sword, not a wooden one.

There is a glow that peeks out from the inside, as if there is a spirit in
the sword.

********
1. The idea of ‘capability’ is the gilt of the Tao and the root of
ignorance: From Lao Zi's Dao De Jing, the fundamental text of
Taoism.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 39

Awesome edits by MrMissMrsRandom. Thanks so much!

*******
Cheng Qian doesn’t lack swords. Fuyao Sect has a wealthy sect
leader who has nothing but money. They can use a sword once then
throw it away. The only problem is that on Azure Dragon Island, the
opponents he encounters are just at Zhang Dasen’s level. Therefore,
he keeps using the wooden sword as a means to practice his
swordplay.
A sword is nothing special to him. But with just a glance, Cheng Qian
can see that this sword is special.

He already knows without thinking much that this sword isn’t from
Yan Zhengming. Firstly, the scabbard looks ordinary. It’s even a bit
too old. That isn’t to the taste of their sect leader and senior brother.
Secondly, with Sect Leader Yan’s personality, he wouldn’t keep a
deed like this secret. If he wants to give something to another
person, he will loudly let everyone in the sect know, then he’ll order
them around. He won’t deliver the gift until he is satisfied.

Upon closer look, there are spells carved meticulously on the handle
and blade of this sword. Those spells are incredibly complicated,
forming rings that interlock with each other. Despite having read
every book on Azure Dragon Island, Cheng Qian can’t tell what
spells they are.
He reaches out with a finger, wishing to investigate the blade.
However, he stops before touching it. As there is less than half an
inch between his finger and the blade, a strange feeling rises in
Cheng Qian’s heart.

He feels that there is a cold aura with the stench of iron rust, which
curls around the blade like an illusion. There is a sense that the
sword is alive.

At first Cheng Qian is confused. Then his eyes widen as he thinks of

a possibility: there is a hidden charm around this sword!

It has to be said that hidden charms are the highest point of the art of
charms. Someone who doesn’t possess great power and talent can’t
create such a charm. The only person Cheng Qian has met who can
create a hidden charm is his disciple grandfather, the Beiming Lord
of the Demonic Realm.

If one looks closely, even the hidden charm of the Beiming Lord
wasn’t that skillfully done, because it used a special medium, which
was his own soul. Therefore, that charm was more a trick of demonic
cultivators than an exceptional display of skill with spells.

There’re many people knowledgeable in spells. Powerful cultivators

who have good skills with energy aren’t rare either. However, how
many people can create a hidden charm around the blade of a
sword?

Cheng Qian can imagine that this is a sword that everyone covets
once it appears in the world. However, no matter how closely he
looks on the sword, he can’t find its name.

At this moment, Cheng Qian discovers that there is a piece of paper

peeking out from under the tea tray. Part of the paper is wet from
something. He touches it with his finger and smells it, which makes
him even more anxious. It’s blood.

On the paper it’s written: Shuang Ren returns to its original owner.
Remember, it can’t be used rashly.

Whether it’s “Shuang Ren” or “original owner”, Cheng Qian doesn’t

understand anything. He carefully investigates his room inside out,
and discovers that there is a trail of blood leading from the window.

Of course the person who delivered the sword got in from the back
window. No wonder Puddle, who was playing in the front yard, didn’t
know anything.

Cheng Qian hesitates for a while, unsure if he should tell Yan

Zhengming about this incident. He reaches out a few times for the
door but then withdraws his hand, feeling that the mysterious person
left behind this sword not necessarily out of good will. This doesn’t
seem to be a good thing.

Cheng Qian’s habit is that he only lets other people know about good
news but not the bad. After some consideration, he decides not to
disturb the others and silently pursues the trail of blood alone.

Cheng Qian touches his eyes slightly, concentrating his spiritual

energy there. Immediately, the sceneries around become alive, and
he can detect the blood hidden on the ground with just a glance.

Whoever this injured person is, it seems that the injury wasn’t fatal,
and they still had a lot of energy, enough for them to run across half
of the island. Cheng Qian follows the trail to a rock submerged by
the sea water, and realises that the blood trail is cut off there.

Cheng Qian thinks, “It can’t be that the person jumped into the sea?”
As he investigates along the beach, he suddenly feels danger out of
nowhere.

Whether such intuition comes from his cultivation of qi or his regular

fights, Cheng Qian has good faith in it. Therefore he hastily gathers
and hides away his aura, then hides himself in a corner.

His action is in the nick of time. Just a second later, several figures
with their faces hidden arrive from the sky. As soon as they land,
they search everywhere.

As soon as Cheng Qian sees this, his eyes widen. The reason is no
other than that these people rode their swords to come here.
He doesn’t know if Yan Zhengming has reached the level of sword
riding; he himself can’t do it yet. Besides the fact that these
opponents have higher cultivation level than he, the group has a
dozen of members.

No need to guess which side these people belong to. From how they
travel in the night with their faces hidden, one can be certain that
they’re up to nothing good.
Cheng Qian doesn’t have much time to think. Just a second later,
one of the masked figures makes a long whistles, then a large bird
with unusual looks appears. That bird is taller than a human, its
wings are even larger than Puddle’s, as if it lands on the ground
while carrying the whole sky on its back.

A cold sweat breaks out on Cheng Qian’s back. With a disciple

brother who is knowledgeable in all kinds of topics like Li Yun, he
has heard of and seen not a few of unusual things. This bird is a
‘human detecting bird’, which is trained to detect the breath of a
living person. Because it can fly, it’s much more useful than a
spiritual dog.
With its extremely sharp sense, the human detecting bird has likely
already detected Cheng Qian. After receiving its order, the very first
thing it does is looking at the direction of his hiding place and
screeches loudly.

No matter how agile he is, he can’t outrun those who can ride
swords. In the emergency, Cheng Qian quickly takes out some small
bottles from his side pocket. He hastily smells them, then pours the
contents of one on his body. Those substances were all created by
Li Yun for his disciple siblings to play with. Cheng Qian doesn’t really
know their specific purposes, he only vaguely remembers that one of
them can be used to hide oneself.

“Pray for luck,” he thinks. Immediately, Cheng Qian feels like he has
been frozen. His entire body is immobilised such that he can’t even
move.

Groaning inside, he thinks that he will die here thanks to the grace of
his Second Brother.
The human detecting bird and the masked figures quickly run
towards Cheng Qian, who temporarily can’t move. But right after
that, they run past him as if they don’t see him at all.

Maybe he really managed to pick a substance that helped him

become invisible, but with the side effect that he can’t move?
After a while when he manages to look around with difficulty, Cheng
Qian discovers that he didn’t become invisible. Instead he was
turned into a rock.

Although this unknown substance for rock transformation of Li Yun

has saved Cheng Qian’s life, it nails him to that spot all night. The
group of masked figure don’t leave the island until nearly sunrise.
Before leaving, the chief of the group sweeps his glance at all
directions one last time. As Cheng Qian can finally see clearly his
eyes, he immediately feels that the person looks vaguely family. At
least he has seen these eyes somewhere before.
When Cheng Qian can move again, the sun is already high up in the
sky.

Carrying the sea wind, he drags his body, which is stiff to the tips of
his finger, back to their home. He runs into Li Yun who is walking out.

Li Yun looks exhausted. He must have been busy all night too, but
his spirits are high. His face covered with a towel, he leaves the
room that looks like it has just been through a fire. Thick cloud of
smoke wafts out of the open door.

Li Yun tiredly tells Puddle who is climbing on the wall to catch

caterpillars, “Baby sister, catch!”

As soon as he says that, he takes out a round pill and throws to

Puddle on the wall with a flick of his finger.
Puddle always unconsciously displays certain avian characteristics.
Her ears and eyes are much sharper than normal children, and she
is especially good at catching fast things that fly by her. Hearing Li
Yun, she doesn’t use her hand, but cranes her neck and accurately
catches the pill with her mouth.
She licks the pill. Tasting the sweetness on it, she chews it like a
candy.

Cheng Qian: “…”

He knows that what Li Yun throws to her is the medicine to suppress
her yao energy, but he feels weird seeing this.
He has to respect how well-trained their baby disciple sister is. The
problem is she is trained to be rather inhuman.

Seeing that she finished the pill, Li Yun looks visibly relieved. He
smiles to Cheng Qian then yawns and returns to his room.

Suddenly remembering what happened, Cheng Qian calls him back.

“Wait, Second Brother, I want to ask you something.”

Li Yun asks, “What?”

Cheng Qian says, “Do you know the sword ‘Shuang Ren’?”

Li Yun stops and asks with surprise in his voice, “Shuang Ren? Why
do you want to know about it?”

“I saw a story,” Cheng Qian replies vaguely without any sincerity, “Do
you know anything about it?”

Li Yun frowns. “A bit. I heard that this sword originally had no name.
Its blade is extremely cold, and as it freezes the blood falling on it,
and it doesn’t heat up even when cast into the True Flame, so it’s
called ‘Shuang Ren’1. Besides this name, it also has the joking
nickname of ‘the Sword of Terrible Death’.”

…What a great name.

Li Yun continues. “Back then, the Shuang Ren gained notice

because it was used to behead three powerful demonic cultivators in
a row. The wielder became famous overnight; the sword itself was
also exaggerated to be a demon-vanquishing sword. As a result,
both the wielder and the sword fell to another powerful demonic
cultivator just a few years later. From then on, countless souls fell to
this Shuang Ren sword. When that demonic cultivator won the title of
Lord Beiming, the sword was considered the number one demonic
sword in the world. Thirty years later, the Lord of all demonic
cultivators of that generation was betrayed by their disciple and died
under this sword. Shuang Ren then belonged to that traitorous
demonic disciple. Ten more years, the ten great sects conducted a
campaign against the demonic path, killing more than a hundred
demonic cultivators. Consequently, the sword was won by a great
cultivator from the righteous path, and transformed into a blessed
treasure again. Everyone thought that was the end. Can you guess
what happened next?”
Being stunned by the story, Cheng Qian asks, “What happened
then?”

Li Yun smiles. “One hundred and thirty four years later, because his
cultivation partner suddenly passed away, that great cultivator was
so lost in grief that he no longer wanted to live, so he killed himself
with Shuang Ren. From then on, the sword disappeared without a
trace. Where do you hear about this unlucky artifact from?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t reply. He returns to his room with a troubled

heart.

However, no matter how unlucky it is, to a sword user, the Shuang

Ren is like a great beauty to a lecher, a priceless treasure to a
greedy man, a rare antique book to a bookworm. Its seduction is
seemingly irresistible.

Cheng Qian keeps picking the sword up and putting it down again. In
the end, he uses all of his will to lock this mysterious sword in the
wardrobe. As he turns the lock, he gets to experience what ‘hurt like
the heart is pierced by a sword’ is like. He is filled with resentment
that he can’t immediately unlock the wardrobe and take the sword
out to use.

However, there are too many unknowns around this incident. Cheng
Qian can’t think of anyone who might sneak into his room and leave
behind such a notorious sword. It was reckless of him to try and
pursue that person yesterday. Before everything is clarified, Cheng
Qian has no intention to do anything with that sword.

Because of the great tournament, all of Azure Dragon Island become

disquiet. Even Zhang Dasen and his goons no longer have time to
cause trouble for Cheng Qian. Half a month later, a giant list is
carved on a large rock at Lecture Hall, specifying the opponents for
the first round.

That day, the island is full of people. The senior cultivators who are
rarely seen normally stand in two rows, all wearing their uniforms.

Clothes make a person look good. Amidst these ethereal white

robes, even Tang Wanqiu looks neater. However, between the Left
and Right Guardians of Lecture Hall, there seems to be a deep
abyss, as neither of them even looks at the other.

Perhaps because of the too-white robe, Tang Wanqiu looks a little

green. Looking at her, Cheng Qian feels she is in an even worse
mood than usual.

He looks at the other Guardian. Zhou Hanzheng doesn’t look that

happy either. The smile on him is like a mask. He doesn’t open the
fan but only taps it on his palm, his eyes sweeping the surrounding
from time to time.

Cheng Qian suddenly remembers the vaguely familiar gaze of that

masked man. So, it turns out to be Zhou Hanzheng’s!

However, before he can think more about it, the crowd suddenly go
crazy. Then there is a loud cheer. Cheng Qian doesn’t know why at
first. When he looks more closely, all the senior cultivators on the
platform all stand up. Someone yells. “The Lord of the Island! He
comes himself!”
Among them, only Yan Zhengming has met the lord of Azure Dragon
Island. Caught in the moment, even Cheng Qian can’t resist his
curiosity. He stands up on his toes in the crowd for a better view. All
he can see is a team of internal disciples proudly walk through the
crowd, looking like servants of a deity. One by one, they go to the
center of the platform then quietly split into two rows.
At the end of the formation, the lord of Azure Dragon Island appears.

The lord of the island is a tall man. By mortal standard, he seems to

be just a little above thirty. He has fine features, and his long hair is
completely loose on his back. He wears a blue robe and holds a
dragon staff that is a bit taller than himself.

The lord walks with his head hanging, his steps aren’t long either.
There is an indescribable delicateness about him. It isn’t until he
reaches the centre of the platform that he looks up and slowly
sweeps his eyes around the crowd, stopping a fraction longer at Yan
Zhengming.

Despite being one of the Four Sages, this lord doesn’t look powerful
at all. On the contrary, his face seems depressed, as if he were a
poor scholar. He glances at the group from Fuyao Sect then pays
attention to the platform again. After blandly nodding to the Left and
Right Guardians of the Lecture Hall, he walks to the place of honour
reserved for him.

All these years, it seems that the lord of Azure Dragon Island doesn’t
exist. He never appears in public. Therefore, the crowd goes crazy
immediately. Yan Zhengming on the other hand frowns. “Strange.”

Why does it seem that strange things keep happening?

Cheng Qian looks at Yan Zhengming, who speaks in a low voice,
“Isn’t the lord of the island still in seclusion? He didn’t even appear at
the opening of the celestial market. Why does he appear at a trivial
tournament between rogue cultivators and his disciples?”
No one answers him. Their hunter for news Han Yuan has
disappeared for some reason.

With the extraordinary excitement on Azure Dragon Island, Han

Yuan of course can’t ignore it. He has already come to the site to
read that list carefully. It should be said that although asking him to
read a book is like threatening to kill him, he can memorise these
kind of things with just a glance. As he reads it, his ears all perk up
to listen to the gossips of the talkative bunch around him.

From the gossips, it seems the that rogue cultivators think Zhang
Dasen is the best among them. Han Yuan isn’t happy about that,
thinking, “It’s just that my Third Brother doesn’t like to show off. That
coal-faced Zhang asshole was obviously beaten into dust by him,
such that the asshole dares not let anyone know. This bunch is really
ignorant.”
Suddenly someone says, “Zhang Dasen? Pardon my bluntness, he
is nothing.”

Feeling like he has just found an ally, Han Yuan cranes his head to
find out who has just said that.

Everyone hastens to ask, “Why do you say that?”. However, this

knowledgeable stranger keeps up the suspense for a while then
says, “Don’t you see that there are ten platforms? The tournament is
to select the best ten competitors. Only then that these best among
us rogue cultivators can enter the real tournament of Azure Dragon
Island, to compete against the internal disciples.”

Han Yuan feels a little off balance.

That person continues. “Think about it, we have been here for five
years already. Except for the servants, has anyone seen those
internal disciples?”

Everyone shakes their head. Han Yuan slips to the front like an eel
and raises his voice. “Stop showing off, Bro!”

The person replies with a “hey,” then shakes his head. “The
capability of the internal disciples is way beyond our kind. It’s said
that some of them have special talents and go into seclusion for
eight to ten years, improving themselves in extreme conditions. Our
friend Zhang Dasen only looks good against us. If he meets the real
thing, ahaha.”

At this point, donning a mysterious face, the person waves his hand
and stops talking.

Withdrawing his gaze, Han Yuan turns and runs off.

*******

1. 'Shuang Ren' (霜刃) means Blade of Frost, or poetically 'blade as

sharp as frost'.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 40

Thanks as usual to MrMissMrsRandom and InkSplatterM!

*******
Han Yuan’s own cultivation level is lousy, but he had great faith in his
disciple brothers. Seeing that even the likes of Zhang Dasen had a
good reputation, he immediately believes that the winner will be his
disciple brothers. Always ready to find more troubles than staying
away from them, he thinks, I should investigate all the tricks of the
internal disciples, so that my disciple brothers are prepared.
The internal disciples that follow the lord of the island wear uniforms
too. However, unlike the senior cultivators and the guardians, the
robes of the disciples have a bland shade of white. From afar, they
look like a funeral procession. They’re so eye-catching that it isn’t
hard for Han Yuan to find them.

The disciples around the lord of Azure Dragon Island don’t make a
sound as they walk. Whether because of their sect rules or
something else, no one among them gossip with each other. Their
faces are full of apathy as if they had seen through the mortal world;
there isn’t even a bit of cheer on their expressions. They silently
leave the crowd, completely separating themselves from the
excitement around, serene to the point of being isolated.
Han Yuan knows that the lord of the island is very powerful, so he
dares not come too close. He just climbs on a huge tree from a good
distance, and, using his hand to shade his face, he watches the
group.
The internal disciples all stop as they reach halfway up the mountain
road. Some disciples bring over a small palanquin and respectfully
invite the lord of the island to get in.

This scene is so familiar. Han Yuan immediately recalls how his most
senior brother “refused to stand if he could sit, and refused to sit if he
could lie down” on Fuyao Mountain back then, when he made people
to carry him to the Hall for the Teaching of the Tao. Feeling both
nostalgic and amused, he thinks, This lord of the island is this old
already. Why does he act the same as our sect leader and senior
brother back then?
At that moment, seemingly sensing something, the lord of the Azure
Dragon Island suddenly turns and looks straight at where Han Yuan
is hiding, meeting his spying eyes. Han Yuan nearly falls down from
the tree, shaken to his core.

The lord of the island seems to know who he is. A smile appears on
the sorrowful face. However, the frown on his forehead doesn’t go
away, making the smile seem rather reluctant. From afar, the lord of
the island waves his hand at Han Yuan, apparently to tell him to go
back and stop following them.

The internal disciples quietly wait on the sides. As soon as the lord of
the island gets in the palanquin, they lift it up. In a blink of the eye,
the procession becomes a white shade and disappears in front of
Han Yuan’s eyes.

His jaws dropping, Han Yuan sits on the tree, being completely
stunned. Fear and admiration rising in his heart, he mumbles to
himself. “Holy shit, I probably can’t reach that level even if I cultivate
my whole life. How many years of seclusion will that take?”
Before Han Yuan could finish his comment, he hears someone laugh
quietly. Startled, he holds a handful of pine nuts and growls. “Who
dares to laugh at your grandfather here?”

The leaves rustle behind him a little. Han Yuan turns back, the pine
nuts in his hand are immediately shot into the thick crown of the
trees. The sound stops.

Han Yuan carefully cranes his head to look. Unexpectedly, darkness

falls on his eyes and he drops from the tree.

When Han Yuan comes to, the excited crowd on Azure Dragon
Island has completely dispersed. His temples throbbing, he looks
around with clouded eyes, but he can’t remember how come he slept
under the large tree.

Han Yuan stretches and makes a large yawn. His head nearly splits
into two because his mouth opens too widely, but he still feels dizzy.
He has to scramble to stand up and walks back with a heavy head,
feeling he has forgotten something.

When Han Yuan returns to the small building of his sect, Puddle is
sitting on the wall and his Second Brother Li Yun is leaning against
the doorframe. They excitedly watch Cheng Qian and Yan
Zhengming spar in the yard.

“Where were you?” Li Yun waves his hand to Han Yuan. “Come
here, you’re missing out on the fun.”

Fellow disciples obviously can’t take too much risk when sparring
with each other. Cheng Qian and Yan Zhengming both use old and
blunt wooden swords. Those swords have rough surfaces, perhaps
they were chewed on by Puddle when she was teething or eaten by
mites. Therefore it looks like they are waving sticks used for lighting
up a fire. However, their sword moves aren’t ugly like that, going
back and forth so fast to the point that the eyes can’t see clearly.

In the beginning, neither of them used forces, or any other

technique. The moves they use are all from Fuyao Wooden Sword.
Han Yuan is only a little late, but they already exchanged a dozen of
moves.

The more progress they make in their swordplay, the more they
realise that this wooden sword technique is extraordinary in the
world.

The simple parts can be taught to a beginner; the complex parts can
take the entire life to completely understand.
Puddle asks, full of admiration, “Second Brother, when can I start
learning swordplay?”

Not taking his eyes off the sparring, Li Yun answers just for the sake
of it. “When you’re taller than the sword, our most senior brother will
teach you.”
Puddle jumps on the wall and raises her arms to stretch her body,
resenting that she can’t be immediately as tall as the building. She
asks. “Why should I learn with our most senior brother? Why not
Third Brother?”
Li Yun says, smiling, “Your most senior brother is a proper sword
specialist, who entered the Tao via the sword. Your third brother’s
swordplay is forged through fighting. It isn’t proper enough. Too
much aggression. If you learn from him, you’ll grow up to be a
demon that causes chaos everywhere.”

Before he can finish the speech, a ray of chilly sword energy flies
from the yard into his face. Li Yun hastily jumps up on the wall. He
tsks. “He doesn’t even let people talk. Did you see it? The move is
from the Fuyao Wooden Sword, but the sword will leans towards
Sea Tide Sword. Such cold technique isn’t good for a little girl to
learn. It’ll give you stomach ache in the future.”

Puddle is confused, not understanding what’s the relation between

“learning swordplay” and “stomach ache” is.

This asshole is such a terrible senior disciple brother. Even the calm
Sect Leader Yan can’t stand it. He reprimands. “Li Yun!”

Li Yun smirks a smirk full of mischief as he pats Puddle on the head.

Li Yun and Yan Zhengming argue with each other. As usual, Cheng
Qian doesn’t understand any of that. Compared to Puddle, he is
even more at a loss. But as Li Yun mentions Sea Tide Sword, his
mind wakes up again. Full of inspiration, he says, “Baby sister, I’ll
show you what Sea Tide Sword is like. Most senior brother, watch
out!”

As he speaks, Cheng Qian suddenly changes his move. The

previous move “The roc travels ten thousand miles” is connected
immediately with “Great wave washes away the sand.” The cold air
stirred up by the sword wind aggressively blows forward. It is as if
the yard was swept through by a great wave. The leaves all fall
down. The spot that bears the brunt of the sword’s will is full of tiny
water bubbles. Li Yun has to make the hand sign to create a
transparent shield in the air in front of the audience, to avoid being
collateral damage.
The hair pin of Yan Zhengming is swept away by the sea tide
created by the sword, but he doesn’t panic. A wave of calm and
stable energy swells from his sword. It isn’t offensive like Cheng
Qian’s but covers around his body and the blade, solid as if it could
split the sea.
Cheng Qian’s eyes light up. “You reached the ‘concentrating the
mind’ level already?”

“Concentrating the mind” is to collect the spiritual energy dispersing

outside the body and glue it on the blade using the mind. Only
someone who can collect and send out spiritual energy at the level
of ‘concentrating the mind’ level can take the next step and unify the
body and the sword, and even ride the sword and fly away.

Considering his skill, maybe Yan Zhengming can really ride the
sword already.

Right after that the two wooden swords clash. The flimsy swords
can’t withstand such force and break at the same time. The chilly
sword will of Cheng Qian immediately disperses. He catches the
broken half of the wooden sword and draws an arch in the air,
smiling. “Looks like I’ll have to increase my sword practice by
another two hours. Otherwise I’ll be a step slower than you.”
Cheng Qian doesn’t often laugh out loud. As he grows up, effusive
crying and laughing gradually disappear from his face. A
gentlemanly aura forms around him in which all feelings are
displayed very moderately. However, in this moment, all of that
disappears. His eyes light up, suddenly revealing a rarely seen
youthfulness.

Cheng Qian had fine features from a young age. In his teenagehood,
they bloom even more. If he didn’t walk the chilly path of cultivation,
he would probably become someone in society who people threw
fruit for1, whose gaze could kill the entire street.

Yan Zhengming is stunned. His heart suddenly moved, he

instinctively uses half the wooden sword in his hand to draw a half-
arc in the air, letting the sword guide the energy in his body. Right
away, a ray of sword energy rises up, so gently that it doesn’t even
make a sound.

Puddle is startled and makes a yelp. However, the sword energy

blows past her without tearing her silk skirt. It falls down on a dying
weed bush on the wall. In front of everyone, the yellow leaves
become green again. The bush shakily rises up and a small yellow
flower blooms.

Han Yuan and Puddle both stare at the flower in surprise. Han Yuan
asks. “Most senior brother, what is this move? This is the first time I
see a sword move that makes flowers bloom!”

Although Yan Zhengming has matured quite a bit, behind closed

doors towards his family, he still can’t give up his love for showing
off. Hearing that that question, the expression in his eyes change.
He waves his arms as if going mad. The rotting branch and dried
weeds on the wall visibly grow a bunch of young, green vines. They
crawl out and cover the entire place, carrying many big and small
pink flowers, that look like out-of-season pink apricot blossoms.
Feeling pleased, Yan Zhengming neatly withdraws his arm and
assumes a mysterious air. He says with a smile. “This is a move
from the fifth form ‘Return to trueness’. It’s called ‘Dried wood meets
spring’.”

Seeing that he wants to show off again, Li Yun facepalms. The two
brats Puddle and Han Yuan understand their superior’s
temperament very well. Trying their best to flatter the sect leader,
they clap their hands as if full of admiration.

Cheng Qian alone has no such concession for their sect leader. With
a glance he comments bluntly. “Ah, this move. No wonder it’s neither
offensive or defensive. I’ve thought hard but still couldn’t understand
what this useless move was for. Turns out it’s to make flowers
bloom!”

“Stop bullshiting,” Yan Zhengming is still in the recent trance so his

tone is significantly softer than normal. He points at Cheng Qian. “Do
my hair.”

Li Yun grabs Puddle’s clothes and pulls her from the top of the wall.
“Today, if you recite the Scripture of Serenity ten times before the
sun sets, I’ll show you the opening form of our sect’s style.”
Hearing that, Puddle is very excited. After all, the opening form is
swordplay too! Thus she hastily runs off to grab her book and recite
the scripture.
The other disciple brothers all know that the heck the “opening form”
is, and try to suppress their laughter with difficulty, wondering if their
little disciple sister will be frustrated to tears once she discovers that
her long-awaited opening form is a round of “living better than the
gods.”

Sitting by the door, Han Yuan begins his daily thirty wooden plate
exercise. Li Yun holds a book and draws or writes something. Cheng
Qian pulls, no, does the hair of their sect leader and senior brother.
The sect leader and senior brother himself is paying a dear price for
his decision; he feels that his scalp has become numb from the
rough handling of this clumsy brat.
The evening sunlight pours over the endless mountains of Azure
Dragon Island. Squinting his eyes, Yan Zhengming squints his eyes
and thinks. “If, in the future, everyday on Fuyao Mountain can be this
lively, having a long life to enjoy it is indeed ‘living better than the
gods’.”
Yan Zhengming can’t help it. He misses Fuyao Mountain. In his
thoughts, he doesn’t hope for the sect to have lots of fame and glory.
He doesn’t care to have many admirers coming and going daily like
Azure Dragon Island. He only wishes the legacy of their ancestors
can be passed on, and that sect members don’t be bullied when
going out in the world.

By that time his disciple brothers will have matured and accepted
their own disciples. He will change his Master’s Hall of Ignorance to
an ancestral hall, where the disciples will receive their punishments.
The stubborn ones will be dealt with the hardass Copper Coin.

At this point, Yan Zhengming says out loud, “Wait until we return to
Fuyao Mountain in the future. Maybe we’ll organise a grand
tournament of our sect. Whose disciples lose, that one will have to
wash the dishes. Ouch, Copper Coin! Are you trying to make me
bald?”

As Cheng Qian is holding the comb with his mouth, the words come
out rather warped out of his mouth. “You should have been bald a
long time ago.”
Han Yuan pokes at the failed talisman with his burin and asks
casually. “Third Brother, you will be in the very first fight tomorrow.
What do you think? How long will it take for you to win?”

Before Cheng Qian can reply, Yan Zhengming is startled into asking.
“What, first fight tomorrow? Copper Coin, why don’t you tell me?
Come to my place later to pick a good sword. A grand tournament is
different from usual. You can’t use a wooden sword to compete. Do
you hear me?”

Cheng Qian replies with a yes. Holding a bunch of hair in his hand,
he asks, seemingly without care. “What do you think? Do you need
me to go to the end?”
Yan Zhengming raises his eyebrow, feeling that his disciple brother
gets more and more out of bounds by the day. With these words,
Cheng Qian shows that he has completely no regard for anyone in
the world, no matter how powerful they are. Yan Zhengming can’t
resist it and teases. “Will you really defeat everyone in Lecture Hall
and claim Azure Dragon Island, once I say the word?”
Cheng Qian smiles. “I can’t be sure that I’ll win. But if you think it’s
necessary, I’ll do my best.”

Cheng Qian very rarely declares to “do my best” like that. These
words from him are far weightier than from other people, because he
absolutely doesn’t say it for fun. If he promises to “do my best”, he
will really fight to his last breath.

An unnamed feeling rises in Yan Zhengming’s heart. He sighs

inwardly, feeling that no matter how much affection he showers
Cheng Qian, it won’t be enough. He even forgives Cheng Qian for
pulling out five or six strands of his hair.

Yan Zhengming says softly, “Xiao-Qian…”

Cheng Qian replies. “Uhm, I’m done.”

Li Yun raises his head to look and immediately chokes, coughing

nearly to death. Han Yuan has already covered his eyes, not daring
to look.

Puddle is already back from fetching the scripture and gets to see
the new looks of her sect leader and senior brother. Her jaw
dropping, she looks at him full of admiration. Cheng Qian has put
two flowers symmetrically on two sides of his most brother’s head.
They look just like a pair of colourful ears. Their most senior brother
would only need a red dress to show up in a matchmaking party!
A second later, a growl echoes throughout the building. “Cheng!
Qian!”
Why should he waste his affection on this asshole?! What use is
there to keep him around?

Cheng Qian runs through the building into his room, about to close
the door to block a vengeful most senior brother outside. At that
moment, the sounds of bell and drum rise urgently under the evening
sky of Azure Dragon Island.

The bell rings loudly repeatedly. The relentless beats of the drum
press on a person’s heart.

Laughter freezes on Cheng Qian’s face. The door, which is already

closed halfway, stays in its position. “What happened?”

Li Yun stands up with a serious face. He frowns. “If I remember

correctly, the bell is a warning, and the drum is to summon the
internal disciples to fight off intruders. Someone dares to attack
Azure Dragon Island?”
“Puddle, stay here, don’t run off,” Yan Zhengming calls back Puddle,
who is running to the gate to watch. “Let me send someone to go out
and ask. Zhe Shi…”
Before he can finish his speech, the gate to the building is pushed
roughly from the outside. Zhe Shi is breathing heavily and chasing
after someone. “Wait! Zhenren, you…”

Everyone in the building looks out and sees only Tang Wanqiu, who
is standing there with an expressionless face.

She says curtly, “Follow me.”

Yan Zhengming steps forward and asks, “Senior, what is happening
on this island? Where do you want me to go?”
Tang Wanqiu has absolutely no patience to explain. She turns and,
without a word, grabs Puddle’s clothes. As the little girl screeches
loudly, Tang Wanqiu carries her like a package, leaving only a curt
“Don’t be tardy!”

Because of that, the group from Fuyao Sect has no other choice
than to follow her. Cheng Qian is about to leave when he remembers
something. He turns back and waves his hand. The lock on the
wardrobe falls down; the sword Shuang Ren inside flies into his
hand.
*******

1. This post explains about the throwing fruit to a pretty man thingie.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 41

Thanks as usual to MrMissMrsRandom and InkSplatterM!

*******
All of Azure Dragon Island is lit up by torches. The night patrol which
was increased because of the grand tournament has somehow
disappeared. The rogue cultivators become a bunch of headless
flies. They shout and gossip wildly, all kinds of rumours flying all over
the place. Some say demonic cultivators attacked the island. Some
say the lord of the island had a qi deviation while cultivating. The
weirdest speculation is that there is a real azure dragon sealed
under the island, which has escaped the seal and gone out to find
food, and that the cultivators on the island would only be enough as
a light meal for it.

All the way, Tang Wanqiu keeps a not so large distance with Yan
Zhengming and his group, as if waiting for them. Yan Zhengming
sees through that, so he can’t do anything to her. The only problem
is poor Puddle being carried like a luggage. Both dizzy and scared,
she can’t help crying loudly. Luckily Li Yun already gave her the
medicine to suppress her yao energy. Otherwise, with how she cries
all the way, there would be an earthquake on Azure Dragon Island,
and they would be turned into who-knows-what monster in the
gossips.

Tang Wanqiu leads them through the mountain side where Lecture
Hall is. She disappears for a couple of seconds in a forest, and stops
in front of an area full of stone steles.
This place is called “The Forest of Steles”, where monuments
commemorating the great cultivators who ascended or fell are
erected, like the ancestral hall of ordinary people. Cheng Qian and
his disciple brothers have heard about this place. However, they
aren’t official disciples of Azure Dragon Island, but only visitors who
come for learning. They have no business being here without a good
reason.

Tang Wanqiu loosens her hold and throws Puddle aside. Having
cried the whole way, Puddle has lost most of her fear. As only panic
and anger are left, as soon as she is free, she grabs Tang Wanqiu’s
hand and aggressively opens her mouth to bite her.

However, before Puddle’s teeth come down, Tang Wanqiu suddenly

bends her head to look at her. This Tang Zhenren has never shown
much expression when dealing with other people, but her eyes are
red at the moment. Seemingly unwilling to show anything to a child,
she grits her teeth and displays a fierce face. She doesn’t look like
she is suppressing her tears, but more like a glaring guardian god.

She and Puddle stare at each other for a while. The little girl isn’t
afraid, but with an animal-like instinct, she seemingly senses
something. She closes her mouth and, as snots coming out of her
nostrils, she is taken back by her terrified most senior brother.

Turning her back to them, she says stiffly, “By the lord of the island’s
order, I take you out of here tonight.”

Yan Zhengming is startled. “Senior, what is going on in the island?

We juniors don’t have much capability, but after all we have been
under the protection of the lord all these years. If we can help with
anything…”

As he mentions ‘protection’, Tang Wanqiu’s face finally becomes a

little less tense. She turns to look at him and says in an even voice,
“Sect Leader Yan, as long as you remember what has been done for
you, it’s fine. For now, you’d better watch your own lives first!”

Having said that, she points at the ground and shouts. “Open!”

The ground of the stele forest shakes. An opening of about two

square metres appears. In the darkness, there are apparently stairs
made from stone. It turns out to be a secret tunnel.
Tang Wanqiu makes the hand sign, making the lightning fire
concentrate on her finger tip. She points and successively lights up
the lamps on the walls of the secret tunnel, making it full of light.
Then she leads the way and gets down the steps, urging, “Don’t be
tardy!”

Yan Zhengming quickly exchanges a glance with Li Yun. Li Yun

frowns and says with a low voice, “Brother, let’s just follow her first.”

When the lord of the island appeared at the grand tournament, Yan
Zhengming already sensed that something wasn’t quite right.
However, he doesn’t really know what’s going on. In the present, he
is completely at a loss. With Puddle in his arms, who is using his
sleeves to wipe her snots, he can’t be any more confused.

Yan Zhengming hands over Puddle for his servant behind him.
Unable to resist it, he turns back for a glance again. Cheng Qian
walks steadily at the very end of the line. He is staring in the
direction of Lecture Hall, but seemingly sensing Yan Zhengming’s
gaze, he turns his head and nods at him, as if to indicate that his
heart is firm even if the sky falls down.

Yan Zhengming is aware that Cheng Qian doesn’t really know what
is going on either; he just disregards that. Yan Zhengming can’t help
smiling ruefully, but after that smile, he suddenly feels calmer. He
holds his sword and follows Tang Wanqiu into the secret tunnel.
The tunnel isn’t really big. It isn’t too bad for Tang Wanqiu, who leads
the way, but Yan Zhengming has to bow his head the whole way.
Thanks to spells, the fire in the lamps on the walls don’t flicker when
someone passes by. No one talks on the way, creating an
oppressive atmosphere. It’s easy to lose direction when walking on
the ground. As they make turn after turn, Cheng Qian quietly
calculates the distance. When he feels that they are about to leave
Azure Dragon Island, a series of stone steps appear in front of them.
The steps are very steep and the opening is too narrow. Even
Puddle has to stoop a little. The others are practically crawling
outside. It’s as if they are going through a dog’s hole, which isn’t
good for their appearance.

Li Yun finally can’t resist it anymore and asks in a low voice, “Where
is she leading us to?”

Yan Zhengming shakes his head. He turns back with some difficulty
and reminds his servant. “Zhe Shi, look after our disciple sister
carefully.”
His words remind Han Yuan in the back of something.

Han Yuan quickly feels the inside of his robe and takes out a
‘necklace’. It has the Soul Seeking Needles that he stole a few years
ago at the celestial market. The poisonous points of the needles are
covered in neat wooden caps, and the needles are strung together
with a string made of dried weeds. The contraption had the style of
the beggars on the street.

Back then when Han Yuan just acquired the Soul Seeking Needles,
he thought that he would quickly use up all of them, because there
were so many bullies targeting his sect on the island. Contrary to his
expectation, his disciple brothers took care of everything, so he still
has all three needles until now.
Han Yuan puts the three Soul Seeking Needles on Puddle’s neck
and tells her. “If someone bullies you, take off the wooden cap and
stab that asshole.”

While they talk, the stone steps come to the end. Tang Wanqiu hits a
rock with her palm. The two-meter thick rock breaks into piece. This
senior is such a crude cannonball, that Yan Zhengming no longer
has the energy to take issue with her. He only follows her in silence.

As soon as he pokes his head outside, Yan Zhengming feels a gust

of sea wind fly into his face. As he looks more carefully, it turns out
that this is a secret dock, which has only one boat. At first glance,
there is nothing strange about the boat, but it can seemingly blend
into the darkness of night. If it weren’t right in front of them, they
might not realise that this place had a giant boat.
“Get on,” Tang Wanqiu says, “There is no rower, but your sect has a
tradition for being good with spells. You can use spells to control the
boat. Figure it out yourself. If you all could ride swords, there’d be no
need for such trouble.”
Tang Wanqiu usually has the attitude of “Heaven is number one then
I’m number two”. These words from her usually would be a mockery
of their low cultivation level. Strangely enough, this time she doesn’t
mean that.

She glances at the dark sky and the even darker sea, and whispers
in a low voice, “Too fast. I haven’t…”
In just that moment, she seems to be buried by the darkness of
night, her skirt and hair fluttering in the wind. The scene could make
one have the impression that she is rather delicate.
After a while, Tang Wanqiu speaks again. “That day I did see Han
Muchun, but I dared not greet him. I’m… not a tactful person. I
wasn’t sure if he wanted to be recognised.”
Unfortunately, with her clumsiness in dealing with other people,
before she made up her mind, she could no longer see him again.

Yan Zhengming is startled. He realises that she is talking about the

great battle against demonic cultivator on the way to the East Sea
five years ago.
Tang Wanqiu says, “You, well, look a little like your Master when he
was young.”
Having said that, she hangs her head and swipe a long tress of her
hair behind the ear. This is an unconscious act that many women do,
but when she does it, the act seems to contain some old memory.

Having shown some gentleness, Tang Wanqiu resumes the usual

stiff tone she uses when dealing with common affairs, and tells Yan
Zhengming, “After you people leave here, you must not return to
Fuyao Mountain again. You may join in society, or find a good place
and continue your cultivation as you wish. However, don’t tell anyone
that you’re from Fuyao Sect.”

Yan Zhengming probes. “Senior, hasn’t our Fuyao Sect fallen and
become a trivial sect that isn’t worth talking about? Who would
recognise us?”
“The irrelevant ones of course won’t know of your sect, but your
allies and enemies all remember,” Tang Wanqiu says. “Don’t be
tardy! Get on the boat, quick!”

Before she can finish her speech, there is a ray of light that shoots
into the sky on Azure Dragon Island. For a moment, the island lights
up as if it were day, blinding people’s eyes.
Tang Wanqiu’s pupils constrict. Worry shows on her face.
At that moment, Cheng Qian who has been keeping a short distance
from them to guard their back suddenly stands up straight and slowly
raises Shuang Ren. “Who’s there?”

There is the air-tearing sound, then a group of masked figures land

on the ground like a flock of crows. In a short moment, the people
from Fuyao Sect are surrounded.

The ringleader emerges from the group and speaks from behind the
black cloth that covers his face. “There is curfew on Azure Dragon
Island. From now on, no boat is allowed to depart.”
Tang Wanqiu grabs Cheng Qian’s shoulder and pulls him to aside
forcefully. Then she walks up herself. “The lord of the island hasn’t
said anything about a curfew. Who are you?”

The masked man laughs coldly. He clasps his hands and says to
Tang Wanqiu, “Zhenren, no need for you to get angry. Even if you
get on the boat, you won’t be able to get away.”

Having said that, he raises his head as if to signal something. In the

night sky, countless dots of light appear. From afar, they look like
fireflies.
Puddle opens her mouth to cry, but Zhe Shi stops her in time. Li Yun
asks in a low voice, “Brother, what are those?”

Yan Zhengming glances at them then replies, “Flares from sword

blades from the energy used for sword riding.”

Li Yun can’t help feeling scared. “What? So many? Who are they
targeting? It can’t be us.”

Li Yun forever belongs to the category of people who are extremely

intelligent normally, but whose brain skids to a halt in critical
moments.
As soon as he says these words, Yan Zhengming knows what he is
thinking. He has a point. They are only mediocre disciples of a tiny,
mediocre sect. They never got out of Fuyao Mountain. As soon as
they left there, they lived on Azure Dragon Island. The most
notorious thing they’ve done is only picking a fight with the gangs of
rogue cultivators. When the enemies mobilise such a force, it’s
mostly to target Tang Wanqiu. She has the talent of pissing off
people. Maybe this is some old grudge against her from somewhere.
Li Yun asks in a low voice, “Most senior brother, if they aren’t
targeting us, then…”

Yan Zhengming grabs Li Yun’s elbow and shakes his head. He feels
that it’s not so simple. Why doesn’t Tang Wanqiu stay to protect the
island in time of crisis, but secretly lead them to get away?

He instinctively feels this is related to Tang Wanqiu’s warning “don’t

tell anyone you’re from Fuyao Sect.”

Suddenly, Cheng Qian, who has been silent, raises his voice. He
speaks with certainty. “That’s Zhou Hanzheng.”

Yan Zhengming is surprised. “What? How do you know?”

Not changing his expression, Cheng Qian stares fixedly at the eyes
of the ringleader, which aren’t covered by the mask. He says with a
soft voice, “He? I can recognise him even if he turns to ash.”

Yan Zhengming, who was the actual victim back then, has probably
forgotten. He has been like that since childhood. No matter how big
the fight is or how angry he is, he doesn’t hold a grudge. Even if he
can remember clearly how he fell from the platform and was
humiliated, he doesn’t hold any hatred or desire for revenge. In any
case, even if Zhou Hanzheng wants to throw him from the platform
again in the present, the incident won’t be easily repeated. He’d
rather spend his energy dreaming about the happy times on Fuyao
Mountain of his childhood.
Cheng Qian is totally different. Whenever he has problem with
practicing swordplay, or is stuck in a bottleneck period that
seemingly has no end, he will recall Zhang Dasen’s gang and Zhou
Hanzheng. With his quick progress, he gradually considers the likes
of Zhang Dasen beneath his attention. Therefore, all of his hatred is
aimed at only Zhou Hanzheng.

Cheng Qian sweeps a glance at his surroundings, then steps

forward and speaks to Tang Wanqiu with his voice slightly raised,
“Tang Zhenren, this junior is grateful for the lord’s protection all these
years. However, I don’t understand why he would allow someone
with such a shady history get into Lecture Hall?”
Tang Wanqiu is startled. She turns her head at him. “What did you
say?”

Hearing that, the masked ringleader fixes his gaze at Cheng Qian
and Shuang Ren in his hand and laughs slightly. “The one the
human-detecting bird sensed that day was really you. You little
rascal sure have some tricks in you. It was a mistake to let you get
away.”

Before that, he intentionally lowered his voice. For this line he uses
his usual voice. Even if her hearing were worse than it is, Tang
Wanqiu can recognise it. Incredulity that can’t be hidden shows on
her face. “Zhou Hanzheng?”

Seeing as he can’t trick her anymore, the masked man takes off the
cloth without any fear, revealing the scholarly face behind the fan
with the ‘think carefully’ motto. He smiles. “Tang Daoyu1, may I invite
you to go back to the island to greet the guests with the lord?”
Tang Wanqiu is still stunned at first. Then she immediately gets
angry. “What the lord has done for you is as heavy as the mountain,
but you dare to collude with another side?”

Zhou Hanzheng shakes his head and sighs. “Tang Zhenren, you’re
wrong. I’m originally not a member of Azure Dragon Island. All these
years I haven’t joined anyone else. I only temporarily had the
Guardian post thanks to the lord of the island’s grace. Oh? It can’t be
that my memory is so bad. Aren’t you yourself a disciple of Mulan
Mountain, and not a disciple of Azure Dragon Island?”

Being unable to stand his nonsense, Tang Wanqiu doesn’t bother to

reply. She draws the large sword on her back and sweeps it to
create a gust of sharp sword wind. Not caring about the sword riders
above, she aggressively slashes her sword at Zhou Hanzheng’s
head as if it were a rotten gourd.

Zhou Hanzheng lightly jumps into the air. He spins the fan in his
hand, creating the elusive energy of lightning fire and aiming it at the
sword energy of Tang Wanqiu. There is a loud explosion. The two
energies destroy each other, leaving a black burnt spot on the
ground.

Zhou Hanzheng is cruel in both words and deeds. Just observing the
fight scares Yan Zhengming. He realises that his conclusion that he
‘wouldn’t be thrown off the platform by that asshole easily’ was made
too early. Furthermore, Zhou Hanzheng had lots of tricks up his
sleeves, on top of being completely dishonourable. Right from the
beginning, he has no intention of fighting one on one with Tang
Wanqiu. He raises his fan and tells the masked figures that block the
sky and the group. “Capture her!”

Tang Wanqiu growls. “Try me!”

The masked figures land on the ground from their swords like a flock
of crows, crowding up the tiny dock. Yan Zhengming’s sword flashes
as he rides it up in the air. He makes the hand sign and forms
several illusions of a figure riding the sword like him. It costs a lot of
spiritual energy to divide his mind like that, as he has to handle all of
the enemies on the sky alone.

Cheng Qian really wants to let the Zhou asshole taste Shuang Ren.
However, as he sees the pale faces of Li Yun and the others, he
pours a bucket of cold water on his own temper, and moves to keep
watch next to Zhe Shi, who is holding Puddle close to himself.

Two of the masked figures sneakily land and approach Cheng Qian’s
group from the other side. Obviously thinking that he is useless, they
raise their swords with obvious intention to kill the witnesses.
Fearlessly stepping forward, Cheng Qian silently uses the “Strong
waves smash the shore” move to directly meet that attack.
At this point, Cheng Qian finally sees the difference between this
famous sword that has bathed in the blood of many people and his
old chipped wooden sword. As soon as Shuang Ren moves, an
indescribably cold aura fills the dock. As the weapons clash each
other, Cheng Qian vaguely hears the shouts of thousands of people
in front of him, in hatred or anger. A visible layer of frost covers the
blade, and one hit breaks the weapons of the two masked figures.
The spiritual energy of Cheng Qian is stirred up wildly. He feels as if
he is about to explode and die.

Right, that piece of paper said “don’t use it rashly”…

Cheng Qian is terrified. He instinctively wants to throw this sword

away. However, as soon as he steps back, the masked figures press
forward. One of them even tries to take Puddle. He recklessly thinks.
Whatever. Let’s kill these fuckers first and deal with that later.
Right away, he doesn’t stop or even change the move. He deals out
‘Strong waves smash the shore’ again. The two masked figures must
be thinking that Cheng Qian can’t even concentrate his mind yet,
that his cultivation level is limited, and thus he can’t fight one against
two. They don’t know that his swordplay has been forged using a
wooden sword. Wooden swords are very flimsy and can only contain
a limited amount of sword energy. The wielder has to be both in
control of the force dealt out and extremely precise. Yet Cheng Qian
dares to combine the powerful Sea Tide Sword with the flexible
Fuyao Wooden Sword to defeat the cultivators attending Lecture
Hall. He has certainly reached the level beyond what is required for
concentrating the mind and ride the sword.

And in the present, what’s in his hand is the legendary sword that
always thirsts for blood, “Shuang Ren”.

The glare of the sword is like lightning in winter, as if to show the

intent to kill of its owner. The sword wind flares up, and the sound
like silk being torn can be heard. With one strike, Cheng Qian cuts
the throats of both masked figures. Blood splashes everywhere. As
the blood falls on the chilly blade of the “Sword of Terrible Death”, it
freezes into a layer of bloody frost.

*******
1. Daoyu 道 友: Literally 'friend of the Way'. Title used to address a
fellow cultivator that's one's peer.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 42

Thanks a lot again to MrMissMrsRandom and InksplatterM

*******
As old people like to say, if a weapon has shed too much blood, it
will inevitably become bloodthirsty. The bloodthirsty weapon causes
numerous sufferings, therefore it’ll inevitably haunted by hatred.
There are thousands of bloodthirsty weapons in the world, each of
them has its own terrible history. However, none of them has the
dubious honour of bearing the “Sword of Terrible Death” title that
everyone remembers.

In the second that Shuang Ren touches blood, although Cheng Qian
hasn’t concentrated his mind on the blade, he is already stunned by
the terrible emotions from a distant past that surrounds it. At the
same time, this sword consumes far more spiritual energy than a
wooden sword, in return for its superior power. Holding Shuang Ren,
Cheng Qian, for the first time since he started learning swordplay,
has the feeling that his body doesn’t obey his mind.

The masked figures didn’t expect such a young brat could be so

tough. They stop for a moment and make signs outsiders don’t
understand. Then they ignore everyone else and surround Cheng
Qian.

Cheng Qian slowly breathes out, feeling that his breath has become
white fog. The frost of Shuang Ren has apparently seeped into his
body, making everything inside him cold.
Several layers of sword energy aim at him at the same time.
Knowing that trying to fighting all of them upfront is courting death,
Cheng Qian turns into a shade that moves between the openings of
his enemies’ sword energy like a fish swimming in water. Thanks to
Zhang Dasen and his gangs who pursued him for one thing or
another day after day, he is exceptionally skilled in dodging attacks.

While he dodges, Cheng Qian even intentionally leads these masked

figures away from Puddle and the others. However, just as he seems
to be full of energy, he suddenly stumbles as if he were hit. A ray of
sword energy from one of his pursuers catches up to him, and turns
his left shoulder into a mess of blood and flesh.

However, Cheng Qian doesn’t even feel the pain. He is only aware of
the ‘bong’ in his head. That comes from the puppet charm he gifted
Xue Qing. He can feel clearly that the spiritual energy in the charm
just disappears. Puppet charm is one of great seven visible charm;
the spiritual energy contained in it doesn’t disperse easily. It must be
that Xue Qing has just been in a life-threatening situation.

Then is he… is he alive?

He is only a lowly cultivator’s servant who travelled alone. He doesn’t

have much money; his personality is calm and polite. Who would
want to harm him?

Is this an accident? Or is he caught up in an ambush?

If this is a conspiracy, then the letter Cheng Qian’s most senior

brother asked Yu-er to bring home doesn’t have a reply, because it
hasn’t arrived. Or…?

What about Fuyao Mountain?

At that moment, no matter how Cheng Qian tries, he can’t suppress

the panic. The many unfortunate events overwhelm his heart at this
unlucky moment. He is hurt because of the puppet charm, then he is
besieged by the emergencies. His eyes blur and his legs wobble.
Before he is aware what’s going on, a mouthful of blood rises from
his chest.
“Xiao-Qian!”

It seems that Li Yun calls his name. Startled, Cheng Qian avoids the
sword of a masked figure with difficulty.

At this point, Cheng Qian’s back is soaked with cold sweat. The
sound of metal clashing rings by his ears; he looks up and sees his
most senior brother in the air. With just a glance, Cheng Qian knows
Yan Zhengming is struggling. Ants can bring down an elephant, and
these enemies aren’t weak at all. Yan Zhengming hasn’t reached the
level of concentrating the mind for a long time. For him to being able
to ride the sword so calmly, it is likely an extraordinary effort forced
by the dangerous situation.

The shades made from his mind are destroyed by the masked
figures repeatedly. Each gain Yan Zhengming makes is countered by
a loss. When a shade is destroyed, his face whitens. Furthermore,
he still has to watch out for the safety of his disciple brothers and
sister. A pity that he can’t grow a hundred extra pairs of arms and
eyes.

Cheng Qian doesn’t want to distract him, so he recklessly forces the

blood that has risen to his throat down.

It isn’t a pleasant sensation. Cheng Qian’s face immediately loses its

colour and he nearly drops the sword. As if it could sense that his
heart isn’t firm, Shuang Ren immediately chooses that moment to
create a backlash.
Cheng Qian is surprised. He has the illusion of standing alone in
front of the endless waves of an eternal sea. The water in the sea
seems to come from the mournful darkness of Beiming, giving off a
chill that seeps to the bone. Silence reigns. Inexplicable anger and
sorrow rise in his heart. Why does such a divine weapon have to
bear the mockery of the world? Why does a great talent have to bear
terrible words spoken both behind his back and to his face?
Suddenly, a childish voice screeches behind him. “Stab that bad guy!
Don’t you dare hurt my Third Brother!”

After that, there is a buzzing sound that passes by Cheng Qian’s ear.
With a sharp clang, a Soul Seeking Needle flies towards a masked
figure as if it had its own mind. That one’s sword wind has ripped the
fabric on Cheng Qian’s chest. However, pursued by the nasty Soul
Seeking Needle, that masked figure has to withdraw the sword and
take a defensive stance, before a scratch appears on Cheng Qian’s
skin.

Cheng Qian immediately becomes awake again, and takes a few

urgent breaths. He discovers that the spiritual energy in his body has
been emptied by the backlash from Shuang Ren. The big problem is,
he can’t throw this sword away, because the masked figures don’t let
them go, but keep coming more and more.
Not looking back, Cheng Qian reaches back with high precision and
pats Puddle’s head. He gently says, “Shh, don’t cry. It’s nothing. Try
not to use your Soul Seeking Needles.”

We can’t use the boat. If there is no other way, Cheng Qian looks up
at Yan Zhengming, who is running out of strength, and thinks, Let’s
have our most senior brother take Puddle on his sword and do
everything to break out of the siege.
It’s not that easy for Yan Zhengming to take Puddle along with him.
Then what should be done about the rest of them?

Before Cheng Qian can come up with something, Li Yun gives out a
terrified shout.

Yan Zhengming finally reaches his limit, as he rides the sword while
sending out the shades made from his mind, and suddenly falls
down. Li Yun hastily makes the hand sign. A transparent net rises
from the ground, stopping their sect leader and most senior brother
from smashing the face into the dirt.

Yan Zhengming half kneels on the ground, wobbling a little. In that

moment, he doesn’t even have the strength to stand up.
Having no other choice than to push himself once more, Cheng Qian
steps on Han Yuan’s shoulder and rises to the air. The sword
Shuang Ren arrogantly sketches a sharp arc in the air. Using the
infernally cold energy of this legendary bloodthirsty weapon, he
forces a group of masked figures to step back. His body feels like it’s
being pierced by needles all over, like the times his energy reserve
runs out. Cheng Qian knows very well his meridians can’t take it
anymore.

However, in a time like this, even if he can’t bear it, how can he
retreat?
Cheng Qian’s mouth is full of the stench of rust. He plants Shuang
Ren on the ground without hesitation, sparing no regard for the
honour of this famous sword. Shuang Ren makes a screech, and he
rises to the air once more. Cheng Qian deals out a move purely on
instinct. However, he runs out of strength before he can complete it.
The sword wind around him dissipates; numerous blades press on
Shuang Ren, seemingly about to tear him apart.
There is no time for someone else to save him.
At this point, someone suddenly shouts, “Insolent!”

After that, a wave of powerful but gentle energy sweep by. It

effortlessly destroys the sword wind that is aiming at Cheng Qian,
but doesn’t hurt him at all.
Cheng Qian suddenly feels light all over. He falls down like a rock,
but is caught by Yan Zhengming.

Yan Zhengming really doesn’t know how he can still rush forward.
When those blades were about to come down on Cheng Qian, his
heart was going to drop and smash the rest of his organs to pieces.

Cheng Qian loses consciousness, but fortunately not for long. As his
eyes can focus again, he realises that the masked figures that were
all over the dock have been all swept away. Some of them are
crawling on the ground and groaning; some have fallen into the sea.
At the same time, he realises that his hand is still clutching Shuang
Ren. It’s really that he doesn’t give up even when he is about.

As Cheng Qian tries to get up, an arm that allows no negotiation

keeps him down. Even without listening carefully, Yan Zhengming’s
wild heartbeats can be heard. He half-kneels on the ground and
holds Cheng Qian close, his arms shaking. It’s not until Cheng Qian
opens his eyes that he breathes out in relief and whispers, “Don’t
move!”

Tang Wanqiu is standing on the other side. It seems that she couldn’t
defeat Zhou Hanzheng. Her face is pale; it’s likely that she is injured
too.
Even so, she doesn’t seem to be happy to see the reinforcement. On
the contrary, she seems even more worried and says with a low
voice, “My lord.”

Zhou Hanzheng coldly glances at Tang Wanqiu, as if to take note of

the debt with this madwoman. When he turns away, his face totally
changes, taking on a carefree expression. Waving the fan elegantly,
he clasps his hands and greets the lord of Azure Dragon Island, who
is standing on a large rock. “Greetings to you, my lord.”

The lord of the island doesn’t bother to pay attention to him. He looks
at Tang Wanqiu and says, “Wanqiu, take the children over here. I
didn’t think it through.”
Tang Wanqiu says nothing. She tiredly turns her head and signals
‘follow me’ to Yan Zhengming with her eyes. Then she walks along a
series of small steps after the large rock.

Cheng Qian grits his teeth, intending to use his most senior brother’s
arm to stand up, but he is pressed down by Yan Zhengming again.

He suddenly feels light all over. His most senior brother has lifted
him up.
Cheng Qian’s blurry mind becomes awake in a second out of fear.
Like a puppy that falls from height, he panics and waves his arms
about, then nervously clings to Yan Zhengming. He is worried that
his ‘delicate’ disciple brother will drop him. It isn’t high enough for
him to die from falling down, but how he will land is a problem.
Yan Zhengming was just scared to death because of Cheng Qian.
His face hasn’t even changed yet. Anger burning in his heart, he
says coldly, “Lie still!”

Cheng Qian quiets down and becomes still as a rock, letting Yan
Zhengming move him about.
The lord of island’s solemn gaze softens. He looks at Yan
Zhengming, then stops at Cheng Qian’s sword.

The eyes of the lord of the island widens. He stares fixedly at the
bloody frost, then turns around and sweeps his glance aimlessly at
all directions, as if to search for someone. However, except for the
sky and water of the same colour and the treacherous rocks in the
sea, he can’t find anything.

The lord of the island withdraws his gaze and sighs softly. The
oppressive aura of a powerful cultivator disappears, and the usual
sorrowful looks of a poor scholar returns. He turns and says, “Let’s
go back.”

Some of the masked figures want to pursue but are stopped by Zhou
Hanzheng.
Zhou Hanzheng is smiling as he watches the back of the lord of
Azure Dragon Island. The words that come out of his mouth are
chilly. “Don’t you know who Gu Yanxue is? Are you trying to get
killed?”

Tang Wanqiu hasn’t gone far. Hearing this line, she looks back with
hatred and asks, “My lord, why do you leave that Zhou scum alive?
You should kill him and be done with it!”

The lord of the island doesn’t look back; his skeletal form keeps
moving at the front. Hearing her, he only laughs quietly without any
comment.

Cultivators in the Nine Provinces1 may not know the Emperor and his
officials, but everyone has heard of Azure Dragon Island. The great
sects grudge even their old brooms; many wandering rogue
cultivators seeking the Way get their breakthrough from the Lecture
Hall of Azure Dragon Island. The lord of the island doesn’t only have
extraordinary cultivation level, he is also regarded as the “teacher of
the world.”
Mortals pay great respect to “heaven, earth, the Emperor, family,
teacher.” However, cultivators usually have very long life, causing
their familial affection to fade with time. Therefore they no longer
have “family.” They also don’t accept being a subject of the mortal’s
Emperor, so there is no “Emperor.” Out of the five great pillars of
society, the three “heaven, earth, teacher” remain. The cultivators
regard their sect even higher than their family, which shows the
weight of the “teacher of the world” title.

Who would believe that the highly regarded lord of Azure Dragon
Island, Chief of the Four Sages, Gu Yanxue has such a miserable
appearance?
Among the Four Sages, the lord of Azure Dragon Island isn’t
necessarily the most powerful, but he is still implicitly considered the
Chief, certainly because of this reputation.
They go straight to the great dock of Azure Dragon Island, where a
great fight is going on.

As it turns out, the night patrol and the internal disciples who seem to
disappear all gather here, and they are fighting another group.

The once-a-decade celestial market of Azure Dragon Island is a

great event of the cultivators. Even if they are powerful and from a
great sect, who would fail to pay respects when coming here?
However, those who are coming don’t seem to be friendly. Strong
wind has risen from the sea. The shadows of the great boats form a
wall under the dark sea sky; the flares from the swords of riders in
the air are like stars. The great waves seem to reach the sky.
Upon closer look, it turns out that the rumour of those gossipy
cultivators is true. There is a show of a sea dragon swimming
around!

It’s relatively safer to be close to the lord of Azure Dragon Island; Li

Yun has finally calmed down from the panic. Having read many
books, he says, “That’s not the Azure Dragon. The Azure Dragon is
a divine beast in legend, how can it show up in the human realm?
That’s just a monster water snake. That’s strange. Doesn’t only the
Western Palace have a monster sea snake? Why is it here in the
Easter Sea?”

Han Yuan says, “Maybe it was stolen by a demonic cultivator and

brought here.”

Li Yun falls silent. He concentrates his spiritual energy in his eyes

and look with all his mind, then says in surprise, “Dragon flag. That
boat over there has the dragon flag of the Western Palace! But why
does the Western Palace…”

Both Azure Dragon Island and Western Palace belong to the ten
great sects. They occupy distant locations, and promote isolation
from the world to concentrate on cultivation. They don’t stick their
nose in anyone’s affair, and it’s unheard of that they wish to get on
someone’s bad side. Why would they cross the sea from so far away
to pick a fight with Azure Dragon Island?

Before he can finish his speech, the lord of Azure Dragon Island
makes a long shout. Hearing that, the seemingly unstoppable great
water snake fall into the water. The resulting waves cause three
boats to capsize. Silence suddenly falls in all directions. Even the
sea wind and sea tide that have been on the rise calm down.

The two fighters can’t help it and stop the battle. The crowd part to
give way to the lord of the island to walk forward, who raises his
voice. “Esteemed fellow cultivators from Western Palace, you take
the trouble of visiting me in the middle of the night, and in such
numbers. May I ask what guidance you wish to grant us?”

There is the sound of a horn. The many great boats on the sea split
into two sides. A large dragon boat appears, seemingly rising from
the dark abyss of the sea. An old man whose hair and beard are
completely white stands on the front of the boat. That man looks so
old he is about to die, but that doesn’t diminish his powerful aura. His
gaze, sharp to the point of being seemingly palpable, sweeps
through the crowd. He says, “Gu Yanxue, hundreds of years no see.
Your charisma as the lord of Azure Dragon Island is still the same as
ever.”

The lord of the island frowns. He clasps his hands and says, “You
flatter me, Bai Ji Daoyu.”

Yan Zhengming is the sort of free range sect leader. Except for the
few chronicles of the island he read when they newly arrived at
Azure Dragon Island, he doesn’t pay attention to anything else.
Hearing that, he asks in a low voice, “Who is Bai Ji?”
Li Yun leans into him and whispers. “Lord of the Western Palace. It’s
rumoured that he’s nearly a thousand years old. Before, it was said
that he would be the next person to ascend and become an immortal
in the Nine Provinces. If he doesn’t manage to ascend, it’s likely that
his life span is about to run out.”

Having had some rest, Cheng Qian recovers a little. He pushes Yan
Zhengming out and stands up himself. Hearing that, he asks in
surprise, “Second brother, how come do you know everything?”

“Shut up, none of your business,” Yan Zhengming immediately

forgets to hear what kind of god Bai Ji is. Frowning, he checks
Cheng Qian’s pulse to determine how serious the injury is.
The back and forth between the two contemporary great cultivators
causes a sensation among the crowd. Not minding being seen as
insolent in Lecture Hall, the curious rogue cultivators climb on the
surrounding trees and rocks, watching and commenting.

The lord of the island calmly inquires, “Friends from Western Palace,
why didn’t you send a notice that you would come? Although my
island is just a backwater area, we do know how to treat visitors.
Lord Bai, what’s your intention for leading your people here out of
nowhere?”

In a blink of the eye, the great dragon boat has arrived. Bai Ji says,
“Of course I’m not here for my amusement. Five years ago, my
useless grandson went travelling. Hearing that there were many
things to see at the celestial market on your esteemed island, he
came here with the cultivators he befriended. Afterwards, he sent a
letter back home, saying that, seeing your Lecture Hall here, he
wished to expand his knowledge and joined Lecture Hall as a rogue
cultivator. We haven’t heard anything from him since then, and think
that he cultivated on your island. However, a few days ago, the lamp
indicating his life in our Palace suddenly went out. I tried to summon
his soul but it didn’t work. That’s how I know he…, he…”

At this point, Bai Ji doesn’t talk anymore, as if unable to continue

because of the tears.
Hearing this, Han Yuan frowns. Unlike his disciple brothers who don’t
pay attention to the outside, he is the type that has to know
everything that is going on. All rumours, no matter how trivial, have
to pass by his ears at least once. Yet he has never heard that
someone who attends Lecture Hall loses their life.

The lord of the island waves his hand. A disciple comes to his side,
bringing a list. He asks Bai Ji, “May I ask what the name of your
esteemed grandson is?”
Suppressing his pains, Bai Ji says in a shaking voice. “The first part
is Yan, the second part is Li.”

The lord of the island throws the list into the air and mutters
something. The thick list turns its own pages from the beginning to
the end without stopping. Then, with the spine up, the volume falls
down.

The disciple next to him says, “My lord, there is no one named Bai
Yanli enrolling in the Lecture Hall.”

At a short distance from there, someone says, “Maybe he used a

false name.”

Tang Wanqiu, who has been waiting on the lord of the island, replies.
“Insolent! What do you think Azure Dragon Island is? How can the
criminal types who hide under false names be allowed to get in? If
the name isn’t real, it won’t appear in the list!”
As soon as she opens her mouth, the people nearby instinctively feel
that something bad is about to happen. Just as expected, Bai Ji goes
into a rage. He asks, all of his hackles raised, “What do you mean?”

*******

1. Nine Provinces: Referring to the territories of the Han people in China.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 43

Thanks as usual to MrMissMrsRandom and InkSplatterM!

*******
Tang Wanqiu isn’t a sheltered lady who never gets out of her home.
Before this round of Lecture Hall starts, she has travelled the world
alone for many years. She has already heard about Bai Ji’s
notorious deeds. The tribe of this old fox has good skills with animal
manipulation, and keeps giant fish. In West Taiqing, they are the de
facto ruler. He is old but indecent, marrying many beautiful
cultivators and producing a score of children.

There is a saying that there is quality over quantity. No one among

Bai Ji’s children amounted to anything. They either suddenly died, or
had poor cultivation level and a corresponding short life span. None
of them lived longer than their cursed turtle of a father. Furthermore,
all these years he has never made the effort to help anyone of them.

Yet he is crying for his grandson as if from real grief!

He doesn’t care about the tree, now he wants to care about the fruit?
Anger bubbling on her lips, Tang Wanqiu is about to speak up again,
but the lord of the island waves his hand and stops her from causing
more troubles.

The lord of the island says politely, “My subordinate is still young and
impulsive. Please forgive her. Let’s focus on finding your grandson.
The name of everyone who attends this term of Lecture Hall is in this
list. Your grandson indeed never enrolled in Lecture Hall. Or maybe
he was curious, but then left because he didn’t like the techniques
taught on this island. In any case, if he was here, then someone
must have met him. Lord Bai, if you have his portrait, I can send my
disciples to ask around on the island.”
Hearing that, Yan Zhengming has to admire the generosity of the
lord of the island. Assuming the post of sect leader out of the blue,
he regularly treats other people in an unsatisfactory manner, then
regrets it later. He holds Cheng Qian’s wrist while listening to what’s
going on, and says at a whims, “If someone took a big worm to
cause trouble in the lake behind our mountain, I wouldn’t bother to
talk. I’d just fight and chase that one away and that’s that. Helping to
find lost person would be out of question.”

As if he didn’t hear the ruefulness and self-reflection in Yan

Zhengming’s words, Cheng Qian agrees, “Should fight.”
Yan Zhengming glares at him. They regularly absorb spiritual energy
and reinforce their meridians, so they all know how meridians work
to some extent. He has realised that besides the external injury,
Cheng Qian has sustained some internal injury without apparent
reason. Therefore he angrily slaps at Cheng Qian’s back and
reprimands. “Why don’t you concentrate on healing yourself instead
of talking nonsense?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Where is Yan Zhengming’s heart? Cheng Qian just said a couple of

words.

However, before he can talk back, a flow of warm energy enters his
body from Yan Zhengming’s hand on his back, pouring into his limbs
and organs and gently circulating around. Cheng Qian can’t help
closing his eyes, but with his adolescent temperament, he is
unwilling to admit that it feels good to be cared for by his most senior
brother. He only mutters, “Fussy.”

Even so, he finally loosens the hand that has been tightly clutching
Shuang Ren the whole way. Withdrawing into himself, he recites the
Scripture of Serenity.

As the saying goes, one cannot hit a person who is smiling to you,
not to mention that smiling person is the lord of the island. Whether
Bai Ji is here really because of his grandson or he has another
agenda, it’d look bad if he overdoes it. He can’t help toning down his
arrogance, and says courteously, if rather reluctantly, “That’s right,
please forgive me. I’ve lost all of my children. There is only this
worthless grandson left. It’s…”
Maintaining his unique sorrowful smile, the lord of the island shakes
his head and generously says, “That’s normal. Please give us the
portrait of your grandson for my disciples to ask around. If you don’t
mind, please stay here. We’re testing the skills of our talentless
disciples. If you could spare the time to give them some pointers,
that’d be their fortune.”

Even if Bai Ji weren’t the venerable lord of the Western Palace but a
raging donkey, he’d be soothed by these words of the lord of the
island.

Bai Ji hangs his head, his eyes glancing back and forth. As the lord
of the island changes the subject, he can’t help feeling a little
anxious. Lord Bai of the Western Palace’s health is precious. He
doesn’t go all the way to the Eastern Sea for the sake of the
grandchild, whose very name he needs a while to recall.

Even if Cheng Qian is closing his eyes while healing himself, he

hears everything. His habit is to look at the trace that is left behind,
and then think the worst of it. Several ideas already formed in his
head, he muses, “This can’t end that easily. Otherwise, why would
the lord send someone to lead us away as soon as disorder broke
out on the island?”

What has the lord of the island discovered? Who is that shady Zhou
Hanzheng? Were those masked figures his underlings? Why didn’t
the lord of the island find an excuse and finish off Zhou Hanzheng?

And why did Tang Wanqiu warn them not to mention Fuyao Sect
once they got outside?

Why did Xue Qing…

As soon as he thinks of Xue Qing, unrest roars in Cheng Qian’s
heart like ferocious sea waves. Yan Zhengming, who has been
helping him in the healing process, can sense that. As he sees that
Cheng Qian’s face suddenly pales, he can’t keep a cold face
anymore out of fear about complications of the internal injury. He
hastily gathers Cheng Qian in his arms and asks in a low voice,
“Xiao-Qian, what’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian feels very anxious, but he instinctively feels that this is
not a good time to discuss sect affairs. So he swallows everything in,
and, suppressing his feelings, he replies quietly. “I’ll tell you when
we’re back.”
At his point, under the urging of the lord of the island, Bai Ji has no
other choice than to point at the sky. A gust of thin white smoke flies
from his fingertip. Afterwards, a life-size image of a young man
appears in the air. The face of that young man is vague as it floats in
the sky. The eyes keep getting bigger then smaller. In short, the
image doesn’t look that much like a real person. It’s likely that Bai Ji
doesn’t even remember the looks of his ‘precious grandson’.
Feeling rather awkward, Bai Ji tries to press on. “This is my useless
grandson. If you’ve seen him recently, please tell me.”

The lord of the island glances at Tang Wanqiu. Tang Wanqiu looks
closely at the image of that young man, then shakes her head with a
serious face.

The lord of the island says, “Fine, tomorrow the portrait of young Bai
Daoyu will be shown at the tournament, for our disciples as well as
our rogue cultivator friends to see. It’s late already. Time for our
guests to rest.”

Seeing that the night attack of Western Palace has become a giant
wet cracker, the disciples are about to put their weapons away.
At this point, events take an unexpected turn.

A shadow suddenly runs forward straight into Bai Ji and is forced

away by Bai Ji’s powerful spiritual energy, his back smashing into a
great tree. That person doesn’t wear the white robe of the disciples
of Azure Dragon Island, so he seems to be a rogue cultivator, whose
cultivation level isn’t that high. After that fall which took away half of
his life, he crawls to Bai Ji, leaving blood in his steps. “Please save
me, my lord! Lord Bai, I recognise the young master!”

Everyone is stunned by these words. With the portrait given by Bai

Ji, even the person’s mother might not recognise him, not to mention
an outsider.

As Bai Ji just used his missing grandson as an excuse, he is

temporarily surprised too. Then he quickly withdraws his aura and
orders his subordinates to help that rogue cultivator stand up. He
himself steps forward two steps, pretending to happily seize that
man’s hand. “What, what did you say? You’ve met Yanli?”
In the presence of everyone, that rogue cultivator doesn’t seem to
bother about his manly honour. He prostrates on the ground and
cries. “Brother Bai has met his end. It’ll be my turn soon!”

The lines on the lord of the island’s forehead get deeper. He steps
forward a little and says, “What is your name? Are you attending
Lecture Hall too? No need to rush, let me have someone heal your
wounds first.”

Before he can finish, the rogue cultivator acts terrified. He hastily

hides behind Bai Ji and keeps pleading. “Save me, Lord Bai.”

It’s obvious he considers the lord of the island some sort of

predators.
Bai Ji doesn’t really fully grasp what is going on yet, but sensing
something, he goes with the flow and says loudly. “What happened?
Speak freely.”

His legs shaking to the point that he seemingly can’t stand properly,
that rogue cultivator has been hiding among the disciples of the
Western Palace. Being asked, he shakily says, “We discovered that
someone on this island has been practicing the ghost path and
consuming souls. That villain preys on rootless rogue cultivators like
us. Brother Bai told me in secret that we had to investigate this to the
end, and report to the lord of the island. What happened was... He
was sucked into the Soul Consuming Lamp of that demonic
cultivator.”

Without an extraordinary cultivation level and a rarely seen

determination, how long can a normal soul resist the consumption
process? Furthermore, once consumed, the soul won’t be able to
reincarnate again, and will become the puppet of another hand.
Even moving onto another life is impossible. All that person can do is
to wait until turning into dust. Hearing this, Bai Ji finally feels a vague
sense of familial grief, and is genuinely stunned.

In the alarmed noise of the crowd, Tang Wanqiu has gotten to the
front and shouts, “Who do you say that demonic cultivator is?”

Her shout can shake the heaven and earth. Letting out a terrified cry,
that rogue cultivator falls down with his bottom first onto the ground
and nearly becomes an upside-down onion. He keeps squirming in
the dirt and babbles. “Don’t kill me, Lord Gu, don’t kill me… Save
me, Lord Bai!”
This line has too many implications. Even if Tang Wanqiu were
dumber than she really is, she would get it. She immediately raises
her hackles. “You imply the lord of the island is that demonic
cultivator who has been stealing souls? Insolent liar!”

However, except for her, no one dares to speak out so certainly.

Before the disciples say anything, the rogue cultivators from outside
Azure Dragon Island are already anxiously discuss with each other.
Isn’t it the case that a thick infernal aura often surrounds a
practitioner of the ghost path? In that light, the unhealthy looks and
depressed face of the lord of the island is indeed a little… No wonder
he is regularly in seclusion!

They recall that, when the celestial market opened, didn’t the visiting
cultivators encounter a powerful practitioner of the ghost path when
they crossed the Eastern Sea?

Even among demonic cultivators, a practitioner of the ghost path is

the exceptionally cruel type, who would appear maybe only once in a
lifetime. How can it be such a coincidence that they encountered one
on the way to the celestial market?
If that powerful demonic cultivator appears around here, maybe he is
a friend of someone powerful on the island, or even a form of
someone powerful.

Tang Wanqiu can’t stand it anymore. “What even are you useless
bunch? Even if the lord wanted to cultivate using souls, would he
care for those with low cultivation level like you? Wouldn’t it be more
useful to take my soul?”

As soon as she says that, the whisperings subside. What Tang

Wanqiu says makes sense. With the power of the lord of Azure
Dragon Island, it’d be easy to capture cultivators who have formed a
primordial mind. There is no need for him to use a bunch of rogue
cultivators, whose cultivation level is so low that they can’t even do qi
absorption yet.

Tang Wanqiu isn’t good with words, but it doesn’t mean she is
unintelligent. She immediately tries to defend the lord of the island.
“You brat, do you dare to give your name? Who are you? What
evidence do you have that there is a practitioner of the ghost path on
the island? The Lecture Hall opens every ten days. Everyone knows
someone there. How can no one notice that someone is missing?
Who sends you here to smear Lord Gu? Speak!”

People with some sharpness can sense a conspiracy at this point.

As Cheng Qian already has a bad feeling, he decisively pushes

aside all distractions, and seizes the time to heal himself. He doesn’t
heed the noise around him, going into a meditative trance as soon
as he wants to. Yan Zhengming has to quietly watch over him.

He only wishes Cheng Qian isn’t injured and bleeding. Looking at the
blood-smeared face of his disciple brother, which is even more jade-
like because of the paleness, Yan Zhengming has the illusion that
Cheng Qian is made of iron.
That rogue cultivator evasively cries. “My cultivation level is like a
worm’s. If not for desperation, how dare I touch the lord of Azure
Dragon Island? Do I look that bored of living yet? The likes of you
are powerful and have made a name for yourselves. Your
disappearance would be noticed. But who would care about the lives
of us rootless rogue cultivators?”

Tang Wanqiu looks like she is about to stab him into a beehive.
“Damn you, it’s a unilateral accusation. What evidence is there?”

The rogue cultivator says, “Of course! Brother Bai said he

coincidentally saw a ghostly image near the place the lord of the
island went into seclusion. The Soul Consuming Lamp must be
there!”
The crowd make an ooh sound.

They have never heard something like this. However, this evidence
is as good as useless.

Whether the Soul Consuming Lamp exists or not, the lord of Azure
Dragon Island can’t let outsiders search his cave where he secludes
himself for cultivation.
After all, he is the teacher of the world and Chief of the Four Sages!

Even if Bai Ji were any less wise, he wouldn’t dare demand

searching the cultivational cave of the lord of the island to his face.
How can such an act be allowed?

At this point, someone laughs and says loudly, “How can this fellow
say such words? Are you trying to incite people on Azure Dragon
Island to rebel?”

Everyone turns and sees Zhou Hanzheng lead those masked figures
like a flock of crows forward. It wasn’t clear when they flew with
swords on the sky, but once they are on land, it can be seen that
they keep an orderly formation, and don’t look very different from
each other.

Watching from the outside, Yan Zhengming suddenly remembers

that, back then at Lecture Hall, Zhou Hanzheng tried to talk Cheng
Qian into “join his sect” - Yan Zhengming can’t help speculating.
What is the background of this Zhou guy? What sect does he belong
to?

Zhou Hanzheng waves his arm. All of the masked figures behind him
orderly stand back; none among them makes a redundant step.

Opening the fan and waving it, he says, “This Zhou has received so
many favours from the lord of this island, and worked as a guardian
here for so many years, so I have to try and defend him. To identify a
practitioner of the ghost path, it isn’t necessary to find his Soul-
Consuming Lamp. Someone who practices the ghost path doesn’t
have a clean soul. All we have to do is to borrow the Soul Mirror and
check. My lord’s honour is like a cloudless sky. How can he be
involved with such monstrous practices?”

Bai Ji doubtfully looks at this shit-stirrer Zhou Hanzheng, uncertain

what his background is. When that strange cultivator appeared, the
geezer already sensed that there was another force on the island.
He immediately takes caution and says, “As far as I know, there is
only one Soul Mirror in this world, which is hung at the Great Hall in
the Imperial Palace. You want us to barge into there?”

Zhou Hanzheng smiles. “Lord Bai really hasn’t followed what is going
on in the world. The Soul Mirror was granted to Celestial Divination
Bureau by the previous Emperor. What a coincident. As a powerful
demon of the ghost path appeared around the time of the previous
celestial market, I have brought the mirror with me just in case.”
This line is like adding water to boiling oil. Even Tang Wanqiu is
startled. “What, you work for the Celestial Divination Bureau?”
The lord of the island doesn’t say anything. It’s likely that he has
guessed part of the truth already at the secret dock, when Zhou
Hanzheng betrayed him. He just keeps his sentiments under control
and doesn’t let the juniors know.

The Celestial Divination Bureau is part of the current dynasty’s

Imperial Supervision Department. They are part of the mortal
imperial government. Nominally, they manage the affairs of the
‘Immortals,’ but in reality, they can’t control anyone. Obviously, the
Celestial Divination Bureau recruits cultivators to work for them, but
most cultivators think of them as part of another world.
Many people would go through their lives until their death or
ascension without meeting a living official of the Celestial Divination
Bureau
Zhou Hanzheng says without much care, “Ah, it’s just a lowly
position. Unlike those of you who are from a good background, I
don’t have a sect to back me, so I rely on this empty title to make a
living.”

The rogue cultivator, who has been miserably hiding behind the
group from the Western Palace, clasps his hands and says to Zhou
Hanzheng, “Left Guardian, you’re an honourable person. If you too
don’t distinguish between good and bad, I should resign to my fate.”

He tries to keep his back straight; there is a kind of sorrowful

courage in his words. Zhou Hanzheng glances at him, then without a
word, raises his hand. Understanding his order, a masked figure
goes forward and brings a small package. Inside the package is a
bronze mirror in the old style. The edges of the mirror have been
much worn; even the surface is rather dirty.
Zhou Hanzheng makes the hand sign and says softly, “Up.”

That bronze mirror flies into the sky and rotates slowly then lands on
the head of the targeted person. The mirror reflects the moonlight,
which shines on Zhou Hanzheng’s head and makes his shadow
appear on the ground.

It’s no different from a normal shadow.

Glancing at his shadow, Zhou Hanzheng smiles. “Looks like I have
all of my souls about me. My spirit is healthy. All’s well.”
Yan Zhengming’s heart beats like crazy. He doesn’t know what role
Zhou Hanzheng is playing, but he is aware that the latter seems to
be helping Azure Dragon Island on the surface, but is actually
backstabbing its lord.

There’re three thousand paths of demonic cultivation. The ghost path

is incredibly cruel, the lowest among the low. Could the lord of Azure
Dragon Island take that path?

If this was like before, Yan Zhengming wouldn’t believe that even if
he were beaten to death. However, as he sees that the lord of the
island doesn’t say anything after the accusation of that rogue
cultivator, he can’t help feeling anxious.

When he met Jiang Peng, he really was too young, so the

impression was etched deeply into his mind. His disgust for
practitioners of the ghost path is instinctive. The lord of the island
has given shelter and protection for his sect all these years. If the
lord really is...

Yan Zhengming tilts his head and looks at the lord of the island,
completely at a loss about what to think.
He glances at Cheng Qian. The brat seems oblivious with everything
around him, his concentration is off the charts. Yan Zhengming can’t
help but feel some admiration.

Before the lord of the island even says anything, voices already rise
from all directions. Yan Zhengming raises his head and looks at the
soul inspection mirror that seemingly pierces through everything. A
thought suddenly comes to his mind. Wenya Zhenren once said,
Fuyao Sect breeds monsters every generation. What if someone of
his generation carelessly gets into the wrong path?

As soon as this thought emerges, it stabs Yan Zhengming’s heart,

making him feel like he chokes on a bone. His gaze sweeps through
Li Yun, Han Yuan, and Puddle. Li Yun is both smart and careful,
careful to the point of rather cowardly. He isn’t the type that gets out
of bounds. Han Yuan cares about gossips on the streets more than
his own cultivation. Puddle… Well, though she is still young, it can
be seen that she is the carefree sort.

Finally, he can’t help fixing his eyes on Cheng Qian.

There is a smear of blood that lingers on Cheng Qian’s face, which
seems incredibly still in his meditation.

Just thinking of this hypothetical scenario makes Yan Zhengming’s

heart constrict. He stares at Cheng Qian for a while, feeling lost.
Then, this sect leader, who has never been certain about anything in
his life, silently makes a plan in his heart. What use is it to think
about this? Even if Xiao-Qian turns out like that in the future, no
matter what happens, I won’t hurt him. When push comes to shove,
I’ll hide him away.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 44

Retroactive thanks to MrMissMrsRandom to look over this chapter for me!

*******
Alas, Cheng Qian is completely oblivious to the complicated
dilemmas and deep feelings in the heart of Sect Leader Yan.

That he doesn't notice what has been going on is just outside

appearance. His group has three out of the four categories: old,
child, sick, and invalid. Cheng Qian isn’t a carefree sort. How can he
let himself completely sink into the trance?

In addition of his chronic paranoia, he has only met the lord of the
island a few times. He basically has no faith in the lord at all. While
he seizes the opportunity to heal himself, he spends part of his mind
to listen to the going-ons around him and calculates, In this situation
where right and wrong aren’t clear, looks like they’ll fight sooner or
later. Let’s blend into the rogue cultivators. Most rogue cultivators on
Azure Dragon Island are the trivial kind. These powerful people won’t
pay attention to them. Maybe we can escape under the cover of the
chaos.

Then he thinks, If it doesn’t work out, well, I’ll fight if push comes to
shove. Even if I’ll die here, if I can buy them some time, I’ll be at
peace.

With that acceptance in his heart, he finally stops his worried

calculations. Thanks to that, the stagnated spiritual energy in his
body flows significantly better.

While the people present are at a loss, the lord of the island finally
explains. “More than a decade ago, I fought with a powerful demonic
cultivator together with some allies. My soul was damaged from that
fight, therefore I have been in seclusion to recover. May I ask what
you want to look at?”

Bai Ji presses on, trying to force him in a corner. “Does that mean
Lord Gu has no intention to let this mirror of justice test him?”

The lord of the island looks at him with a calm expression.

Exhaustion passing by his face, he sighs, “When people are set to
find someone guilty, it isn’t hard to find the crime, even if that crime is
made up. Lord Bai, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. I have
never met your grandson. I have never had the Soul Consuming
Lamp either. About the ghost path…”

He laughs quietly. There is some mockery in his laugh, as if he

doesn’t want to be a part of this farce.

Zhou Hanzheng raises his eyebrow a little. Tapping his fan on his
palm, he says, “To be fair, it’s ridiculous to claim that someone like
Lord Gu is a practitioner of the ghost path. In the great battle more
than a decade ago, among the Four Sages, one died and three were
injured. It was a tragedy. If Lord Gu has explained that his soul was
damaged and he has been in seclusion to recover, there is no need
to test him with the soul mirror. I’ll believe him.”

Having said that, Zhou Hanzheng curls his fingers to call back the
soul mirror. He abandons Bai Ji, who has just tried to back the lord of
the island into a corner, to stand there, as if he were really a
defender of justice.
Being thus shamed, Bai Ji’s face reddens. Someone snickers behind
him. “Maybe Old Lord Bai’s lifespan is about to run out. Searching
for his grandson is just an excuse. Finding a means at all cost to
ascend is his true purpose, isn’t it?”
Bai Ji angrily shouts, “Who’s there? Get out here!”

As he wishes, a group of people split the crowd and walk forward.

The chief is a middle-aged man with an apathetic expression.
Everything on his face says “don’t mess with me”. He arrogantly
glances around him, as if he were looking at a pile of dog shit.
Stopping his gaze at the lord of Azure Dragon Island, he says, “I am
Tang Yao of Mulan Mountain. The chief disciple of my sect Tang
Zhen has been missing for a hundred years. Recently, there is news
that he appeared in the land of ghosts, so I come for a visit. Forgive
my discourtesy of not greeting you beforehand, Lord Gu.”

Seeing him, Tang Wanqiu is surprised. Then she awkwardly says,

“Sect Leader?”

In deference for her status as someone from his sect, Tang Yao
deigns to give her a look. However, he doesn’t show much affection
for her, but only gives her an apathetic nod.

These people seem to come to Azure Dragon Island to demand for

their member. Furthermore, they’re from her sect. Even if she has
left her sect for quite a few years, Tang Wanqiu can’t help feeling
caught between a rock and a hard place. She is uncertain about how
to act.

Zhou Hanzheng mocks. “Strange. Has Azure Dragon Island become

a place to look for missing people?”

Perhaps it’s the norm for people from Mulan Mountain to be

straightforward. Hearing those words, Tang Yao says
expressionlessly, “I’m not here to demand a person to be handed
over. It’s just that someone sent news to Mulan Mountain, that Tang
Zhen’s primordial mind is seen around Eastern Sea. I wonder who
can be so nice, to care about someone from a different sect. Official
Zhou, do you have any idea?”

Seemingly undisturbed, Zhou Hanzheng replies. “Of course there

are compassionate and honourable people around.”

“Compassion? Honour? I’ve only heard of the saying that ‘When the
Great Way is lost, compassion and honour remain. When
intelligence appears, there is falseness.’” Tang Yao, whose stance is
a mystery, shows no regard for Zhou Hanzheng. Turning to the lord
of Azure Dragon Island, he says, “Gu Daoyu, although I’m not
friends with you, this useless disciple has been working as your
subordinate, and has received not a few favours from you. I come
here this time to tell you about this: when we were looking for traces
in the Eastern Sea, we heard that the demonic cultivator who fought
with the Four Sages back then was Lord Beiming. That cultivator had
a stone of miracles, which then fell into the possession of Azure
Dragon Island.”
Tang Yao pauses a little. Without paying any attention to the
expression of the lord of the island, he continues. “They say you’re
injured by that demonic cultivator, and should have died a long time
ago. However, you have been holding on all these years thanks to
that stone of miracles. Perhaps Lord Bai has heard of the same thing
and come here for that stone too?”

Suddenly having his intention be called out, Bai Ji is so embarrassed

that it turns into anger. “Nonsense!”

Tang Yao says, “Lord Bai, you should know it yourself if it’s nonsense
or not. I heard that stone of miracles can change heavenly will, so it’s
also called the ‘Wish-Granting Stone’. It can resurrect the dead;
increase of cultivation level would be easy as a cake with it. Well,
Lord Bai, having lived this long, you’re worried about your lifespan
too? Why don’t you think if something from a Beiming-level demonic
cultivator is any good?!”
Zhou Hanzheng follows his lead with words full of implications. “Sect
Leader Tang, you mean Lord Gu has been using a demonic artifact
to maintain his life? This… this isn’t something honourable.”

Those few lines from Tang Yao and Zhou Hanzheng terrify Yan
Zhengming. Other people may not know the story, but he is aware
who that Lord Beiming was. He only knows that a senior of Fuyao
Sect had qi deviation, but since when do they possess a demonic
treasure?
Just thinking a little deeper about this makes cold sweat break out on
Yan Zhengming’s back. He feels as if they were being prepared to
be roasted.
However, the lord of the island doesn’t reply to that. He just says,
“Official Zhou, you’ve been going incognito on my Azure Dragon
Island all these years. You must have a big plan.”

He completely avoids answering the tag-team probing, whether

forceful or discreet, of Zhou Hanzheng and Tang Yao. However, to
the onlookers, it seems that he has admitted that fact.
Seeing that the wind has changed direction, Bai Ji immediately says,
“Gu Yanxue, living by grace of a demonic artifact, even one of the
Four Sages like you would be such a fraud?”
That rogue cultivator raises his voice again. “All sects keep secret
about how to cultivate energy. Only Lord Gu recruits and takes in
rogue cultivators every ten years. You think he acts so generously
simply out of the good of his heart? Stop dreaming! Who can be that
good!”

Tears tinge these last words of the rogue cultivators, which are said
in a hoarse voice, while the waves of the Eastern Sea murmur in the
background. The onlookers can’t help feeling a bit moved. The great
sea snake, which has been hiding, is disturbed again and rises up
from the water. The disciples of the Azure Dragon Island and the
people of Western Palace clash once more. However, this time the
rogue cultivators all step back and are on guard.

It is not clear who started the fight, or how many forces are present
on the island. Chaos immediately breaks out.
At this point, there is a small cry. Among the rogue cultivators, who
have all stepped back, a score of them push at the crowd and come
forward. Acting strangely, they charge at the people of Western
Palace without a care about their own lives.
Rogue cultivators tend to be not that powerful. The one at the front is
immediately shredded apart by a sword flash from a retainer
standing close to Bai Ji, and dies.

However, something terrible happens.

The organs of the rogue cultivator becomes a cloud of blood, which

sprays everywhere. His body, which has been torn apart, still
continues to charge forward like a demon, as if it were a marionette.

Although the sword cultivator of Western Palace has high cultivation

level, he has never seen something like that. Out of fear, he
immediately falls back.

Upon closer look, it can be seen that this group of cultivators have
red eyes, and a menacing dark aura emanates from them.
Bai Ji is both scared and angry. “Gu Yanxue, what is your excuse
now?”

As he has just said that, the rogue cultivator who has just spoken so
eloquently at the back suddenly gives out an inhuman howl. His
body splits at the chest. Countless cracks appear on his skin,
revealing the blood veins. Then, using his hand like claws, this
bloody body charges at Bai Ji’s back.

With his thousand-year cultivation, Bai Ji naturally won’t let that thing
touch him. He turns, his palm forward. A palm-size demon-
vanquishing baton flies out from his sleeve and pierces the top of
that bloody body’s head and pins him there.

That bloody body is unexpectedly hard to destroy. Even pierced by

the demon-vanquishing baton, it still struggles wildly. A second later,
it suddenly explodes and turns into pieces of flesh mixed with dark
energy.

Terrified cries immediately rise from the crowd. It turns out that those
pieces of flesh are extremely poisonous, and no one should touch
them.

Zhou Hanzheng’s face pales. “This is the art of mind control from
demonic cultivation. With a hidden charm secretly cast on the
target’s soul, the caster can control that person.”

As soon as he says that, everyone keeps a wide berth from the lord
of the island. Even the disciples of Azure Dragon Island look at their
master with suspicion. Who else besides those at the Four Sages’
level would be able to cast a hidden charm?

As if he has been waiting for this line from Zhou Hanzheng, Tang
Yao immediately turns to the lord of the island and raises his great
sword. Small flames flare from either ends of the sword, showing
that spiritual energy has been concentrated on it.

Tang Yao says, “Lord Gu, do you have any explanation for this?”

The lord of the island smiles ruefully. “Even if I had a hundred

mouths, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Tang Yao asks, “Meaning, the stone of miracles is indeed in your

possession?”

He has finally showed his hands. Under the pretense, it all comes
down to the miraculous stone that is lusted after by many people.

Nevertheless, there is still someone who refuses to understand the

situation. Tang Wanqiu walks forward and stands next to the lord of
the island. Showing a complete lack of awareness, she tries to
defend him. “Sect Leader, I guarantee with my life that Lord Gu can’t
be a demonic cultivator. Nor does he possess any demonic artifact!”

“Shut up,” Tang Yao growls a little. “Tang Wanqiu, you keep getting
more insolent by the day. Even if you have completed your training,
you’re still a member of Mulan Mountain. Are you betraying us?”
Being confronted with such shameless and malicious intent, Tang
Wanqiu’s eyes widen. At this point, no matter how much she wants
to lie to herself, she has realised that, although the Sect Leader of
Mulan Mountain seems to be more righteous than Zhou Hanzheng at
first glance, he is actually much more evil.

Tang Wanqiu’s face is white as a sheet. She falls silent for a while,
then stresses every word. “Then… Then please expel me, Sect
Leader.”
The lord of the island sighs. “People praise me, so it’s inevitable that
they will spit on me. It’s normal. No need for you to go that far,
Wanqiu.”
Tang Wanqiu grits her teeth, like a turtle holding onto a weight.

As the lord of the island is about to speak, Zhou Hanzheng, who is

standing in the bloody seawater, says slowly, “I can’t believe it. How
can Lord Gu do such a thing as embezzlement? Sect Leader Tang,
how can you know that the so-called stone of miracles is on Azure
Dragon Island? Maybe it was buried with that demonic cultivator?
Have you investigated the origin of that Lord Beiming?”

As he hears these words, the expression on the lord of the island’s

face changes. His body tensing up, he makes a powerful strike at
Zhou Hanzheng. He still looks tired, but this always calm person
finally gets angry. “Who is your boss?”

Zhou Hanzheng evades with difficulty. He cries out with feigned

sincerity. “I’m obviously trying to defend you, my lord! What are you
trying to imply?”

Tang Yao intervenes between Zhou Hanzheng and the lord of the
island. “What? You want to kill the witness for a cover-up?”
As the world is turned upside down by the battle between the two
great cultivators of the time, when Yan Zhengming’s heart is plagued
with confusion, the voice of the lord of the island flies into his ear like
a whisper and urges. “Take your disciple brothers and blend into the
rogue cultivators. Escape under the cover of the chaos! Don’t
mention Fuyao Mountain in the future, and your disciple grandfather
is an absolute no-go. Claim ignorance about everything!”

In a second, something becomes clear in Yan Zhengming’s confused

mind. Zhou Hanzheng obviously knows the relation between Fuyao
Sect and Lord Beiming. This is a threat.
If the lord of the island doesn’t admit that he possesses such a
stone, Zhou Hanzheng will uncover that Lord Beiming came from
Fuyao Sect. If that stone isn’t in the Four Sages’ possession, it must
be in the hand of Fuyao Sect!

When such a “wish granting” artifact exists, whoever is suspected,

however baselessly, to have it will become the centre of the storm.
Who cares if they are innocent or if they die without any reason?

Watching the ongoing massacre on the island, Yan Zhengming feels

like a piece of meat stuck in a bind, surrounded by numerous knives
ready to strike.

In his terror, he knows that he should carry Xiao-Qian and leads his
follow disciples to escape immediately. However, how can he live
with his conscience, if he leaves the lord of the island to fight alone
for them?

Yan Zhengming is momentarily stuck there, unable to make a

choice.

The lord of the island suddenly shouts. “Tang Wanqiu!”

Those words strike at Tang Wangqiu like lightning. Her face changes
shades several times, then she grits her teeth and turns to Yan
Zhengming. “I’ll escort you. Let’s go.”

Yan Zhengming says, “But…”

Tang Wanqiu glares. “What are you waiting for? Affairs of the seniors
don’t concern you. Stop being a hindrance!”

Li Yun’s mind is even quicker than his disciple brother’s. Naturally he

too thinks of what Yan Zhengming has realised. Fearing that his sect
leader and most senior brother tries to be heroic at a wrong time, he
hastily cries, “Most senior brother, Xiao-Qian is injured. Our sister is
too young. Listen to her!”
Yan Zhengming helplessly looks at him. Once again, the voice of the
lord of the island pours into his ear, and says in a tone that broke no
argument. “Let me see you off.”

While still battling with Tang Yao, the lord of the island spits out a
colourful cauldron. Sensing that something is wrong, Tang Yao is
startled. He tries to fall back but doesn’t make it in time. A whirlwind
forms around the magical cauldron. It sweeps everyone on the
around away indiscriminately, as if a wind dragon rises from the firm
ground.
There is a loud buzz by Yan Zhengming’s ear. Before he can react,
he is already pulled into that whirlwind. Surrounded by terrified yelps
blending with the sound of the wind, he doesn’t know how far he has
been swept away. In that moment, he is completely dizzy.
One second later, Yan Zhengming’s waist is squeezed by a tattered
piece of cloth, which moves on its own as if haunted. Being pulled by
that strange force, Yan Zhengming stumbles and falls down one
more time. Opening his eyes, he sees that Tang Wanqiu is holding
the tattered cloth in her hand. Right after that, Tang Wanqiu throws
another person at him. Yan Zhengming catches that one out of
instinct. It turns out to be Cheng Qian, who doesn’t look so good.

“The lord can’t trust anyone else, so he orders me to escort you out.
I can’t fail him,” Tang Wanqiu says, “Stand up. We’re leaving.”

Li Yun urges in a low voice. “Most senior brother, let’s go.”

Yan Zhengming can’t help looking at Cheng Qian, who uses the
sword in his hand to support himself and stands up. He has probably
recovered to an extent after taking the opportunity and doing self-
healing. Meeting Yan Zhengming’s gaze, he says succinctly. “I’ll
follow you. You decide.”

As wind rises and rain falls on the island, the lord of the island uses
the wind dragon to take them away as far as possible. From a
distance, his image blends into the many other objects and soon
disappears. Yan Zhengming feels like there is a storm in his heart.

It isn’t until then that he realises that ‘Return to Fuyao Mountain, stay
away from the world and cultivate without a care about fame and
merits’ is only a naive dream of someone who doesn’t know how the
world works.

The sentiments of the world are like water currents. If even someone
like the lord of the island is only a weed that has to submit to the
water flow, what can they do?

Why are there so many troubles awaiting them in their cultivation

path?

“Go,” Yan Zhengming says in a low voice, “Let’s go.”

But where can they go?

The group cautiously follows Tang Wanqiu to cross the forest and
mountain, leaving the shoutings behind.

At the beach, Tang Wanqiu throws that tattered belt into the air,
which turns into a giant piece of cloth floating in the sky. She signals
for the group to get on it and says. “It’s impossible to find a boat now,
so you’ll have to make do with that. My cultivation is limited, so this
piece of cloth won’t be able to last long. There is no way to help you
cross the sea directly. You should take shelter in one of the wild
islands around here. Rest and wait until the wind calms, then find
another way.”
Bitterness chokes Yan Zhengming’s throat. “Senior, how about you?”
“I have my own ways,” Tang Wanqiu turns to Azure Dragon Island.
“Sect Leader Yan, don’t feel bad. What is happening to Lord Gu isn’t
because of your sect. That Zhou bastard has been hiding on Azure
Dragon Island all these years, and then there are those rogue
cultivators under mind control. That means someone has been
hatching a plan to take down ‘the teacher of the world’. Lord Gu has
ordered me to help you leave here safely at all cost. His lifespan is
about to run out. He can’t live much longer. However, as long as he
is alive, he’ll keep the promise made to his old friend and protect
you.”

Tang Wanqiu rolls up her sleeves and wraps Han Yuan as well as
Zhe Shi and Puddle into the cloth, saying. “No one will shelter you in
the future. Take care of yourself.”

Having said that, Tang Wanqiu pays no further attention to them.

Riding her miserly sword, she charges into one side of the chaotic
battle and disappears.
Other female cultivators are all praised to be ‘immortal ladies’, who
would still have a red ribbon to tie up their hair even if they are too
poor to afford fancy silk robes. Yet Tang Wanqiu can only provide a
tattered belt, which is probably just an ordinary piece of fabric used
for that purpose.

Cultivators are free from pollution. With refined bodies, they may not
be extraordinary beauties, but are still easy on the eyes. She alone
has bushy eyebrows, and the face of a debt collector.
She doesn’t know herself. She is only good at provoking other
people. Once she opens her mouth, she will speak of something
sensitive.
Perhaps besides her willingness to fight Heaven and Earth, there is
nothing to like about Tang Zhenren.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 45

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the retroactive beta work!

*******
The sea is endless; the sky is empty.

The meeting and parting of humans in the world are just like weeds
in the water currents.
There is a hole on the ‘precious’ belt of Tang Zhenren that she didn’t
bother to mend. As they float over the windy sea, the salty air makes
Yan Zhengming’s rather messy hair whip into his face. All he can feel
is that both the air and water of this place are ominous, in addition to
being seemingly endless.
Puddle has fallen asleep in the lap of Zhe Shi. Han Yuan, who is
hugging his knees next to them, looks sleepy too. Li Yun can’t hold it
in anymore and asks, “Most senior brother, where are we going after
this?”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming takes a deep breath and squeezes his
forehead. Dark rings are under his eyes. To tell the truth, he is even
more at a loss than Li Yun.

Everyone looks to him for an answer, but whom can he ask?

Yan Zhengming feels that he really isn’t worthy of the sect leader
seal on his chest. Perhaps he isn’t born to be a leader. In the past
twenty years, when he doesn’t just float around, he is forced by
someone else to move forward. If there is no one pushing him, he
doesn’t know which direction he should take.
Seeing that he is upset, Li Yun pulls at him. “Most senior brother?”

“Take a rest,” Yan Zhengming focuses again and soothes his disciple
brother. “There is nothing to worry about. If there is nowhere else to
go, you can stay with my family for a while.”

As he utters these words, even Cheng Qian turns back.

To tell the truth, if they don’t go back to Fuyao Mountain, it makes no
difference to him whether they take shelter with the Yan family or go
begging on the streets. He basically has no preference. However, at
the moment, he must speak up. If something happened to Xue Qing,
it’s likely that the group of Yu-er was ambushed on the way. With
their wealth and reputation, the Yan family would be a major target.
Can they even survive?

Cheng Qian hesitates for a good while, then says, “Brother…”

He catches Yan Zhengming’s expression, and uncharacteristically

feels at a loss.

On one hand, Cheng Qian understands he must tell his most senior
brother what he knows. However, as he sees Yan Zhengming’s tired
face, he has no heart to let out the words that press behind his lips.

Yan Zhengming forces himself to control his expression. Pretending

to be unbothered by anything, he asks, “What’s the matter, Copper
Coin?”
Cheng Qian looks at him hesitantly, his gaze instinctively evasive.

At first, Yan Zhengming feels warmed by this rarely seen shy gaze.
Immediately afterwards, he realises that something is wrong. A
sense of foreboding fills his heart.
As expected, Cheng Qian says almost guiltily, “I have to tell you
something. You have to be calm, alright?”

Cheng Qian is very rarely roundabout to Yan Zhengming like that,

which makes the latter very nervous.

Cheng Qian grits his teeth to focus his determination, then says
quickly, “The puppet charm I gifted Xue Qing-ge is broken.”
Zhe Shi is so startled he nearly drops Puddle. Han Yuan raises his
head with a helpless expression. Li Yun is startled, but he recovers
immediately and shudders.

Yan Zhengming on the other hand looks at Cheng Qian dazedly for a
long while without saying anything.

Fearing that he is lost in despair and acts rashly, Cheng Qian hastily
adds, “That doesn’t necessarily mean something bad really
happened. Don’t think of the worst case scenario yet.”

Even he himself feels that this can’t convince anyone, so he forgets

the rest of his speech. Cheng Qian is very good at ruining people’s
good mood, but he doesn’t know how to soothe another person, so
he clumsily says, “Maybe he lost it out of carelessness. Or he lent it
to someone who broke it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Apparently having just calmed himself, Yan

Zhengming continues what Cheng Qian says with a weak smile.
“Maybe he encountered a storm in the sea. Maybe your puppet
charm saved him… uhm…”

His body suddenly shakes slightly. Then, as if choked by the sea

wind, he coughs behind his hand for a long while.

Cheng Qian tries to speak, but in the end he doesn’t know what to
say. He tries putting his hand on Yan Zhengming’s shoulder. There is
a little warmth emanating from the body of his most senior brother,
but before he can touch it, it is blown away by the sea wind. Cheng
Qian recalls when he met his most senior brother for the first time.
Back then, Yan Zhengming looked like a hot-house flower, so Cheng
Qian immediately categorised him to be a spoiled and lazy rich kid
that was addicted to burning incense in Land of Tenderness.
Back then, there was no callous in his palm, or sorrow in his heart.
How happy he was.

Why does it fall to him to bear the burdens of a life in exile and this
helplessness in the face of unexpected disaster?
That day is fated to be full of upheavals. As Cheng Qian is still full of
sorrow, strong winds rise from the sea.

The sea shakes like an earthquake. Great waves that are like walls
of water appear seemingly out of nowhere one after another.

The sea wind goes from normal to fierce, making Tang Wanqiu’s torn
belt shake dangerously. It wobbly flies higher, but there doesn’t seem
to be enough power. There is the sound of torn fabric. The belt is
ripped apart from where the hole is!

The torn part is right under Cheng Qian’s feet, making him fall from
the belt. Yan Zhengming reacts in time and turns and grabs his
hand. The blood he has been hiding in his palm smears all over
Cheng Qian.

Clutching Shuang Ren out of instinct, Cheng Qian unconsciously

mobilises his spiritual energy reserve. In this life and death moment,
the sword gives off a soft clang. Cheng Qian catches that sound in
time, even if it is drowned out by the waves immediately. He startles,
unsure whether to laugh or to cry. That’s obviously the sign of his
mind being concentrated on the sword!
Cheng Qian calls, “Most senior brother, release me!”
Yan Zhengming ignores him. After a round of extreme emotions, he
acts like being possessed. The only thought in his heart is that he
can’t let Cheng Qian go, even at the cost of death.

In the state of emergency, Cheng Qian doesn’t have the time to

struggle with him. He quickly recites the spell for concentrating the
mind and sword riding. Perhaps because of the critical moment or
the pressure of danger, in addition to him skipping a considerable
step between concentrating the mind and riding the sword, Shuang
Ren floats unsteadily in the air.
Yan Zhengming finally calms down as his hand suddenly feels light.
He withdraws his mind and quickly loosens his hold to avoid
disturbing Cheng Qian with external force. “No… Don’t force
yourself. Move slowly over here, slowly. You aren’t used to flying yet.
Slower.”
Cheng Qian of course dares not be rash. Concentrating one’s mind
in the sword means turning the sword into an integral part of the
body. A normal person on steady ground would stumble and fall if
they suddenly grew a leg. Not to mention that Shuang Ren isn’t an
docile leg. He can’t fully subdue it yet.

Daring not to lose his focus for a second, Cheng Qian steadily
controls his spiritual energy and slowly commands Shuang Ren to
move close to Tang Wanqiu’s belt. However, right in the moment Yan
Zhengming can reach out and help him, events take a sudden turn.

A column of water suddenly rises from the sea, forming a great

wave. When striking from above, the sea water carries an
indescribable force. Cheng Qian’s chest is squeezed so tightly that
he can’t breathe. He immediately loses control of Shuang Ren,
making both human and sword speed off.
The panicked shouts around him are immediately drowned out.
Cheng Qian only has enough time to clutch at the sword handle as
he falls head-first into the sea. Being hit by a great wave from above
right after that, he loses consciousness.
Luckily he doesn’t let go of the sword out of instinct. Shuang Ren’s
scabbard has fallen somewhere, while the blade, which slices even
the hair strands the waves push onto it, sweeps by Cheng Qian’s
body and ruthlessly cuts his thigh. The wound, which is steeped in
the sea water, hurts so much that it wakes Cheng Qian up.

Having swallowed a few mouthfuls of sea water, he tries all his might
to hold in his breath and struggle.
Although Cheng Qian claims not to be afraid of dying, he doesn’t
want to get drowned so pointlessly in the sea like this.

Unfortunately, he isn’t really a good swimmer, which is something of

an insult to the Sea Tide Sword he favours. He can swim a little in
the calm inland springs and rivers, but he can’t handle a raging sea
like this.

Cheng Qian shakily makes the hand sign. A thin air bubble forms
unsteadily forms around his body. Unfortunately, such strong sea
waves can tear up even Tang Zhenren’s belt. This feeble effort using
what little remains of his energy reserve is basically useless.
The air bubble keeps trying to fly up, but it keeps being destroyed by
the waves. Every time that happens, Cheng Qian chokes on the sea
water. By the time his consciousness begins to flicker, he has lost
counts of how many times he has been going up and down.
Gradually, he no longer can tell if he is floating or sinking, having no
energy left to even paddle.
Cheng Qian only feels cold.
His sword is cold. The water is cold. So cold that he is losing his
consciousness.

He can’t help thinking of the funeral of the old man next door that he
witnessed in his childhood at that village. It seems to be a previous
life. The old man’s wife made a thick burial robe for him from the
cotton accumulated in two years. That was Cheng Qian’s first
impression of death.

He thinks, death must be very cold.

However, this time, Cheng Qian doesn’t manage to die.

When he opens his eyes again, the sun is setting.

As Cheng Qian springs up, pain surges on his back so much that he
nearly lies down again. He discovers that he is lying on a large rock
on the sea. The injury caused by the sword on his thigh, which has
gone bleached from soaking in the sea, is torn up raggedly. There is
a layer of chalk white salt on his bare skin.

Someone speaks from behind his back, “Are you still alive?”

Cheng Qian turns his head and sees a ‘wildling’ sitting cross-legged
behind him.

That person looks even more miserable than him. His tattered
clothes seem to barely cover his body. His hair and beard are
overgrown, such that only the two eyes are visible, the electric gaze
of which sweeps by Cheng Qian. In the beginning, Cheng Qian only
feels that this person looks vaguely familiar. Then he gives a startled
cry. “You’re Wen Ya Zhenren?”

Wen Ya glares at him and says heatedly, “Are you blind or

amnesiac? What are you yelling about?”
Cheng Qian’s temples throb as if pierced by needles. Suddenly
meeting an acquaintance here, he has the urge to let out everything,
about his Master, his disciple brother, the lord of the island, Tang
Zhenren. However, he wipes out all of such unnecessary weakness,
and calms down again.

Cheng Qian swallows all of those words together with the bitterly
salty sea water, and respectfully salutes Wen Ya Zhenren. Then he
plants Shuang Ren next to him, and sits down to regulate his energy
and heal himself. His spiritual energy, which was lost to the sea
water, quickly recovers.

Wen Ya watches him for a few seconds. Unable to hide the

admiration and ruefulness on his face, he thinks, “Xiao-Chun said
this kid could be a reincarnation of his master. Looking at him like
this, they’re indeed rather similar.”

He quietly stays by Cheng Qian and watches over they boy until
after midnight. A sky full of star hangs over the sea; the tide
withdraws, revealing the remaining part of the rock.

As Cheng Qian finishes, he hears Wen Ya Zhenren speaking. “This

‘Sword of Terrible Death’ is willful to the point of disobedience. It
can’t be moved by either sentiment or reason. You should already
realise that.”

Startled, Cheng Qian immediately understands what happened.

“You’re the one who left this sword in my room?”
Wen Ya snorts. “Who else? Thanks to the grace of your damned
sect, I can’t even keep a lousy inn by the sea. Because I was seen
with you guys, I’ve been pursued by some fuckers. I planned to
return your sect’s properties that had been entrusted to me, then
changed to a new location. But being timely is better than being
early, I was just in time for the farce on Azure Dragon Island.”
Cheng Qian asks, “Did this sword belong to my master?”
Wen Ya laughs. “Bullshit. How could a softie like your master
command something so aggressive? It belonged to your disciple
grandfather, then as Fate willed it, it fell into my possession. Back
then your sect were full of children and invalids. None of you could
be relied on, so I kept the thing for you. If the wielder of this sword
has a heart of stone, it will help him conquer the world. If he has only
a little weakness, it will betray him. That sword is basically a bully of
the weak and a coward against the strong. Your sect keeps
degenerating; the later generation can’t catch up with their
forefathers. You lot are especially bad. Well, to take the least bad
option, only you have some chance with it.”

Those words give Cheng Qian a strange feeling. Sensing that this
senior is only good for gossips, he immediately stands up and takes
his leave. “Thank you for rescuing me. I still need to look for my
disciple brothers. Pardon my rudeness.”

“Wait,” Wen Ya calls him back. “Do you know where they are?”
Cheng Qian has some notion that there is only one small island in
the East Sea. Yan Zhengming and the others must be somewhere
nearby. Although he still needs more practice, he can already ride
his sword. Seizing the opportunity when the weather is good, he can
fly around the nearby area and look for them. It shouldn’t be hard.

Right after that, he is stunned by what Wen Ya says. “I can tell you.
They are on a wild island less than five miles away from there. You
can ride your sword there. But take my advice, don’t go there. Zhou
Hanzheng has landed on that island too.”

Cheng Qian stiffens.

Wen Ya continues. “Last night the whole of Eastern Sea shook, that
even you kids were affected. Meaning someone powerful fell. Gu
Yanxue, alas. That Zhou bastard must have escaped during the
chaos too. Hmph, he sure ran fast.”

Cheng Qian wasn’t very impatient at first, but he loses his

composure as he hears these words from Wen Ya. Before Wen Ya
finishes talking, he already flies into the sky with Shuang Ren.

Wen Ya didn’t expect him to be so rash. Cursing under his breath, he

quickly releases a ray of light, which forms an ‘immortal binding
rope’. The rope chases after Cheng Qian, ties him up, and drags him
back to the rock.

Wen Ya angrily says, “Are you mad? Do you want to die? Who ever
said you were the reincarnation of that old demon must be blind!”

These words are out of nowhere, but Cheng Qian understands what
they refer to. He struggles with all his might. “I’m not. It’s just a
mistake of my Master’s. Senior, Zhou Hanzheng is evil in both
thoughts and deeds. He may harm my disciple brothers. Please
have some understanding and release me.”

Wen Ya says, “Don’t disregard everything just like that. That Zhou
fucker may be bad, but with his level… I could be a match for him at
the height of my power. But you? Nah.”
Cheng Qian doesn’t waver. “Thank you, senior, for your insight. Of
course I’m no match for him. But I can be sneaky and assassinate
him. Please don’t make it difficult for me.”

Wen Ya: “...”

He has no idea how Cheng Qian can say these words. Among
mortals, a sixteen or seventeen year old youth can be considered old
enough to be relied on. However, among the cultivators who all live
for centuries, he is just a mere baby.
Wen Ya can’t imagine how Han Muchun raised this brat Cheng Qian.
Not only he isn’t afraid of someone stronger than him, he is also
unflinchingly ruthless!

Cheng Qian begins to feel like a fire is burning in his heart. Only his
regard for Wen Ya as an old friend of Muchun Zhenren keeps him
polite. He patiently says, “Senior Wen!”

“Your sect…” Wen Ya suddenly sighs. “Kid, you children can’t handle
the burden that is Fuyao Mountain.”

Cheng Qian doesn’t get why this man insists on cursing Fuyao Sect
to fall. However, remembering that this man didn’t say anything nice
when he was with his Master, Cheng Qian feels normal again. He
doesn’t argue back, and just stares stubbornly at Wen Ya, while
discreetly investigating the immortal binding rope on his body to find
an opening for escape.

Unexpectedly, a second later, he feels his body is released. Wen Ya

has withdrawn his immortal binding rope.

Wen Ya says, “To be able to ride a sword at your age, it can be

considered an accomplishment. Your master and I had been friends
for a long time, so I have no heart to watch you go find death, so…”
Before his speech is over, a few shades appear on the rock. Wen Ya
has released three shades made from his mind.

“If you can escape these three shades, I won’t stop you leaving
anymore,” Wen Ya says, “There is a condition though. I don’t care for
your Fuyao Sect’s garish swordplay. Pick one move, and if you can
use that move to destroy my shades, you can go assassinate
whoever you like.”
If only one move is permitted, isn’t it a contest of energy reserve?

Cheng Qian nearly laughs out loud because of frustration. In his

eyes, this Wen senior doesn’t have the attitude appropriate for his
age. For this man to demand a contest of energy reserve, it isn’t
different from an adult wanting to do arm wrestling with a five year
old child.

How incurably embarrassing.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 46

Thank you MrMissMrsRandom for the edits!

*******
Cheng Qian can’t resist and says bluntly, “I have low cultivation.
Before I can destroy your three shades with one sword move, forget
going to collect my disciple brothers’ corpses, I’ll die from starvation
here first. Senior Wen, please be reasonable.”

Wen Ya isn’t moved. His gaze sweeps Cheng Qian from head to toe.
When a youth is angry, impatient, greedy, or sorrowful, his heart will
be unsteady because of those sentiments, which will show up on his
face. In this respect, Cheng Qian is far better than the average.
Wen Ya verbally attacks him without holding back. “What, you can’t
destroy even my shades, then why are you being so delusional that
you think you can fight Zhou Hanzheng? Based on what? Dreams?”

As Cheng Qian is about argue back, Wen Ya waves his arm and cuts
him off again. “About restoring your sect, if you really mean to do it,
what you should do now is to find a hiding place and cultivate
diligently three or four hundred years. In my opinion, you dare not
bear that burden, so you damn everything and charge ahead!”

Cheng Qian’s eye twitches. He picks up Shuang Ren and says

blandly, “What you said makes sense, but I won’t fall for your
provocation”
Wen Ya thinks, This kid is both stubborn and annoying like a rock in
the gutter. He needs a lesson.
Thus the three shades react to his mind and fly up, surrounding
Cheng Qian.

To hit first against a junior, it is obvious that this establishment owner

Wen has neither courtesy nor shame.

Shuang Ren in Cheng Qian’s hand charges at the three shades like
the sea tide; the sword energy stirs up the calm water around the
rock. Under the aggressive pressure, the sea water shakes the rock
under their feet. Yet Wen Ya’s three shades combine with each other
and form a giant sphere of light in the air, which falls down on Cheng
Qian like a fishing net.
The sword energy and the big net clash with each other in the air
loudly, causing pebbles to fly from the rock and nearly crushing it.

Staying put, Wen Ya hastily makes the hand sign and protects the
rock he has been sitting on, to avoid having to sleep with the fishes.
The three shades have no technique. They use pure strength to
suppress Cheng Qian’s sword energy. The net formed from the
sphere of light tightens and surrounds Cheng Qian inside.

Cheng Qian cannot immediately fight against it. He doesn’t have

enough energy to continue either. Therefore he has to temporarily
run away on his sword, panting.

“Sea Tide Sword,” Wen Ya casually snorts. “With that heart of yours,
you dare to claim that you have learnt Sea Tide Sword?”

He suddenly makes a long shout. The shades over their heads

suddenly become a ring of illusion. Then the shades keep multiplying
into a mob, each of them holding a sword that comes from nowhere.
They all charge at Cheng Qiang.

What is more, these shades each use a different sword move. They
are like a cloud of flies; it’s dizzying just to look at them.

The mixed up sword flashes give Cheng Qian vertigo. He is

immediately pressured into a tight spot by his opponents.
Wen Ya shouts, “Look at the sea tide under your feet!”

Cheng Qian shudders with fear.

At that moment, looking at the endless sea that is calm as the

autumn moon, one can only imagine what it is like when strong
waves crash into the shore by putting oneself in the position of this
rock.

The undercurrents aren’t any gentler than the weapons in this world,
because their power source is endless. The sea absorbs hundred of
rivers. It can tear apart the cloud and winds, yet at the same time
can fill narrow cracks and leave behind soft sands. Its energy never
runs out.

Everywhere is a dead end. Everywhere gives a chance to survive.

However, Wen Ya Zhenren doesn’t give him the time to muse. The
sword flash of those hundred shades surrounds and charges at him.
With his newfound understanding, Cheng Qian raises his sword to
stop them again. However, his move isn’t very steady, and his sword
will misses mid-way, because he feels that something is lacking.

One more time, he can’t evade Wen Ya’s sword. Wobbly standing on
the rock, he dares not stop for a moment, but only touches the tips of
his feet on the ground. Immediately, seven or eight sword flashes
pursue from behind. Burnt streaks appear on the spot he passed by.
This fearful flight smashes the spark of understanding that doesn’t
easily appear in Cheng Qian’s heart. It is seemingly suppressed in
his heart, unable to either stay in or get out, making him feel very
unpleasant.

At this point, Wen Ya Zhenren shouts, “Now look at yourself!”

There is a loud clang in Cheng Qian’s ears, making his hand that is
holding the sword loosen. He nearly drops Shuang Ren, which he
wouldn’t let go even when he nearly drowned.

During his stay on Azure Dragon Island in recent years, he only

focused on building his energy reserve and practicing swordplay.
Day and night, he only thought about how to crush the likes of Zhou
Hanzheng, or how to restore his sect. He very rarely sat down and
inspected himself.

He wore his pride like an armour to support his weak body, fearing
that if he progressed just a little too slowly, his disciple brothers
would be bullied again.

Cheng Qian detests turns of phrase like “the soul disperses”. He

feels like his master only fades into the world, not dead. His master
is everywhere and always watching him. Under the gaze of those
clear eyes, he always feels anxious.
Wen Ya shouts. “Take this!”
Cheng Qian stays where he is. He smoothly uses Shuang Ren in his
head to take on the attack over his head. In that moment, he feels
that the sword doesn’t just connect with himself, but also heaven and
earth.

For a person who cultivates all their life, there are three thousand
paths to the Great Way. However, don’t all of them come down to
“look at the world, then look at yourself?”
All impulsivity vanishes from Cheng Qian’s sword will. However, his
sword isn’t truly calm. Instead it’s nearly sorrowful, containing a
lasting power inside. This time, he no longer has the anger that
spurs him to blow up the rock. The chilly sword energy of Shuang
Ren gets inside the sphere of light.
The sword will and the light fight each other. Part of Wen Ya’s
shades are destroyed.

Cheng Qian suddenly keeps Shuang Ren down, moving forward by

taking a step back. In just a second later, he charges forward again,
in a resemblance of ‘before the previous wave dissipates, the new
wave emerges’. The cracking sound like wood in an oven spreads
everywhere. The last shades of Wen Ya disappear one by one. The
sphere of light fades under the frost-like sword energy. Silence falls
on the rock, as Cheng Qian, who has just been enlightened, and
Wen Ya sit cross-legged opposite each other.

It isn’t until that moment that Cheng Qian feels that he understands
the nature of “Sea Tide Sword” for the first time.
After all these years, he instinctively falls into a meditative trance
because of his enlightenment again. The natural energy that bears
the chilly sea wind around him falls into his meridians, allowing no
resistance. Thanks to the patient and constant exercise throughout
the years, his meridians are reinforced enough to accept all that
energy without falling into stagnation. His spiritual energy circulates
in his body. In a short while, more than half of his injuries, even the
hidden ones are healed.

When Cheng Qian comes to from this meditative trance, the eastern
sky has already turned pink. Despite the long delay, Cheng Qian still
bows to Wen Ya with a complicated expression, saying, “Thank you,
senior.”
Closing his eyes slightly, Wen Ya says, “I don’t know what’s wrong
with you Fu Yao Sect. The one with no determination and a
constantly wavering heart is guided to the Tao by the sword. The one
that is stubborn to the point of being extremist, whose sword is
utterly ruthless, yet enters the Tao via the heart. Kid, you have talent,
but you’ve been walking into the dead end these recent years. Aren’t
you afraid of going on the wrong path?”
Cheng Qian hangs his head in silence, unable to say anything.

What was taught in Lecture Hall was only recitations for cultivating
the energy. His sect leader and senior brother has no control over
him. No senior has ever guided him to the way out. Even if someone
wanted to, with his excessive pride, he wouldn’t have necessarily
listened to them.

“All you ever know is crude violence. Waving your claws about at the
slightest disturbance. What do you think you are, a crab?” Wen Ya
angrily says, “What use is that flat-shelled thing, besides food to go
with alcohol?”
As Cheng Qian hangs his head, he hears Wen Ya swallow his drool
as he reaches this point. This experienced senior who practices
inedia just gave himself a craving!

Cheng Qian: “…”

Seeing Cheng Qian’s weirded-out gaze, Wen Ya’s embarrassment
turns into anger. “What are you looking at? Because of you, I have
no place to return to. You useless bastard!”
Cheng Qian hastily bows his head and respectfully says, “I know.”

A moment later, he can’t resist looking up and asking, “Senior, can I

leave now?”
Wen Ya is stunned speechless. He finally fully understands how
stubborn Cheng Qian is. Whether it’s cultivation level or
enlightenment, this brat all considers it irrelevant to him. Nothing is
worth as much as a hair of his disciple brothers.
Wen Ya says with a stony face, “A cultivator has to undergo
countless tribulations, bearing lightning from the sky, to be able to
find a path for survival from a crack of the heavenly laws. Such a
person has to consider family and friends like water under the
bridge, living with thirst day in and day out, to achieve complete
serenity. Your heart being full of distractions like that, how can you
reach the Great Way?”

Cheng Qian replies without thinking, “What’s the point of pursuing

immortality if life is so miserable? To prolong the suffering? Senior,
my Master said that wasn’t the case.”
“You’re trying to preach to me?” Wen Ya stares at him incredulously.
“You, a little brat, want to preach to me. Fine, what did your Master
say?”
To tell the truth, Muchun Zhenren very rarely intentionally preached.
As soon as Cheng Qian says such words, he immediately regrets it,
as he feels he has been shamelessly making things up. However,
pressured by Wen Ya’s question, his mind races. Then a spark of
realisation comes to him, and he instinctively says, “My Master’s
principle for cultivation is ‘according to one’s heart’ and ‘at ease with
one’s self’. Senior, I’m an ignorant child, but I’ve been wondering. Is
suffering loneliness for the sake of immortality indeed ‘according to
one’s heart?”

Wen Ya has no answer for that.

Having only Yan Zhengming and the others in his heart, Cheng Qian
doesn’t want to prolong the debate. He immediately clasps his
hands, preparing to leave on his sword.

However, Wen Ya calls him back once more. “Wait!”

Then, Wen Ya stares at Cheng Qian with a complicated expression

for a moment, and speaks slowly. “Even if you practiced swordplay
the whole night, you’ve only made a little progress. Are you hoping to
reach the sky in just one step? You’re not a match for Zhou
Hanzheng. Come back here. Let me give you something.”
At a loss, Cheng Qian watches Wen Ya point at his own forehead
and mutters something with a painful expression. A sphere of green
light slowly emerges from his forehead.
As the sphere of light gets larger, Wen Ya’s health looks visibly
worse, a vague aura of death surrounding him.

Cheng Qian has a reserved personality. He doesn’t like befriending

anyone. When encountering troubles, he doesn’t like negotiating with
other people either. He has never expected anyone to help him,
much less when the help obviously hurts that person like this.

Although he doesn’t know what that sphere of green light contains,

he is aware that Wen Ya Zhenren isn’t well at all. He hastily tries to
stop him. “Senior Wen, there is no need…”

Before he can finish, Wen Ya makes a small shout, then grasps at

that sphere of light. The light flares up then fades away. A piece of
jade as big as a goose egg lies in Wen Ya’s palm, giving off a gentle
shine.

Wen Ya looks at the jade in his palm with a complicated expression.

He suddenly smiles. “Back then I had so much trouble beginning my
cultivation. My aptitude was so bad that Azure Dragon Island didn’t
admit me. Fortunately, a friend gifted me this thing. It is “Spirit
Collection Jade”. When grafted in a mortal’s body, it can help that
person skip the tedious process that leads to qi absorption, and
directly enter the proper cultivation process. However, relying on an
external object to enter the Tao is just like using medicines; the
cultivation level just floats around instead of progressing.
Coincidentally, it has some use in fighting against Zhou Hanzheng.
You may as well keep it.”

Having said that, he suddenly raises his hand. Cheng Qian doesn’t
avoid in time the sphere of green light that charges at his chest. In a
blink of the eye, it enters his body.

Cheng Qian feels as if cold water were poured over his head. A
current of cool air flows in his body from head to toe. The energy
stores in his abdomen is stirred up, making him unable to speak for a
moment.
Seeing Cheng Qian’s grimace, Wen Ya Zhenren can’t help losing his
control and bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry. It won’t harm you. Just
that it may not be effective yet in such a short time. This Spirit
Collecting Jade has been refined by me throughout the years. When
used the right way, it can temporarily decrease Zhou Hanzheng’s
cultivation level. Didn’t you say that even if you weren’t a match for
him, you’d attack him from behind? If you can’t raise your cultivation,
decreasing your opponent’s power would work just the same.”

As he said that, a yellow piece of spell appears from his hand and
flies into Cheng Qian’s forehead. “This is how you use it. Remember
that well.”

Cheng Qian is completely at a loss for words for a long while. Seeing
that the cloud of energy on his forehead gradually fades, Wen Ya
knows that the Spirit Collection Jade has been fully accepted by his
body. He nods. “It’s done. Now scram. You’d better not die.”
Cheng Qian can already concentrate his mind and ride the sword.
Even if he gains the Spirit Collection Jade, it’s just a normal treasure.
However, it’s different for Wen Ya Zhenren. Even if Cheng Qian
doesn’t know the full story, he understands that the jade helped Wen
Ya Zhenren to enter the Tao. It’s the entire base of his cultivation.

After taking out the Spirit Collection Jade, half of Wen Ya Zhenren’s
hair and beard has turned grey in a blink of the eye.

Cultivators don’t age. This is obviously a sign of a steep deterioration

of cultivation level.

“I…” Cheng Qian really doesn’t know what to say. “I can’t take it.
Senior, this is…”
“Shut up. Do you think I’m proud that I used an external object to
enter the Tao?” Wen Ya shouts. “If I weren’t pursued and injured by
those mongrels, I would kill that bastard myself. Take what I gave
you. Get lost!”

Having said that, he waves his sleeve, stirring up the sand and
pebbles and making them fly into Cheng Qian’s face. Then Wen Ya
jumps into the water. Cheng Qian rushes after him, but only sees a
back flash like a big fish on the sea and disappear in a blink of the
eye.

Cheng Qian hurriedly flies into the sky on his sword. Whether
because of the progress he made in the night or the Spirit Collection
Jade in his body, he can ride the sword much more smoothly.

However, he can’t see Wen Ya Zhenren anywhere.

Having looked around with no result, Cheng Qian has no other

choice than to sigh and take note in his heart of this chance
encounter and regard for this senior. Then he turns and goes look for
Yan Zhengming and the others.
On this trip, Yan Zhengming and his fellow disciples undergo one
mishap after another.
After they got separated on the way by the great wave. Yan
Zhengming nearly jumped after Cheng Qian. Luckily Li Yun and Han
Yuan managed to sit on him. These unlucky travellers flew on for a
while. As its owner Tang Wanqiu said, the piece of fabric under their
feet couldn’t last for long. As it said farewell to the world, they had to
stop at a wild island.

Yan Zhengming looks a little scary in his panic, as if he is about to go

mad. Li Yun has to soothe him. “Xiao-Qian can already ride the
sword. How can he get drown? Let’s make a campfire and wait for
him here. He’ll see the smoke and come find us.”
Yan Zhengming ignores him. When they lose Cheng Qian, he can’t
sit still for a second.

Looking at the horizon, he suddenly stands up and says, “The sea

has calmed down. You guys stay here. I’ll go look for him.”

Li Yun panics and hastens to stop him. However, before he can think
up his objection, someone else has stopped Yan Zhengming for him.
When they fell onto the ground, Li Yun released a bunch of toads
created from his magic liquid around the island. The toad liquid has
been much improved throughout the years. The toads last longer
and can send information now. Li Yun set these up to wait for Cheng
Qian. Unexpectedly, they detect Zhou Hanzheng first.

Different from their miserable escape, Zhou Hanzheng seems

satisfied, despite being on the run too. Looking at his gleeful face, it’s
impossible to know what he thinks about losing half of his
subordinates on Azure Dragon Island.
However, even if Zhou Hanzheng were alone instead of being
accompanied by two or three masked figures, their group, which
consists of only the injured and the young, are no match for him.

Even more unfortunate for them, Zhou Hanzheng is very cautious.

As soon as he arrives on the island, he immediately discovers what
Li Yun released on the beach.

“Shit,” Han Yuan carefully observes from the proxy’s eyes, and says
in a low voice, “Looks like he has discovered that someone else is
on the island.”

“No big deal,” Yan Zhengming has to suppress his desire to look for
Cheng Qian in the face of this threat. “Bad people are all cowardly.
He is in the light while we are in the shadows. He must be more
afraid than us. We have to make him unable to find us. Li Yun,
continue making the array! Don’t stop!”

Li Yun grits his teeth and concentrates on the task at hand. Taking
the idea from a book of cultivational tricks, he uses rocks and tree
branches, in addition to the corresponding spells, to create an
illusory array. There is no way to tell how long it can trap Zhou
Hanzheng, but they’ll take whatever they can have.

The island is unfortunately not very big. Zhou Hanzheng can use his
mind to sweep across it. However, as Yan Zhengming said, he is too
cautious and dares not act without thinking carefully. Thus he lets
himself be taken in by Li Yun’s illusory array, which is only good for
scaring people. The two sides thus test each other back and forth
the whole night on this tiny island.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 47

Many thanks and hugs to MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

*******
As the area Zhou Hanzheng explores gets wider, the toad liquid Li
Yun brings with him quickly runs out, while they dare not use their
mind to scan the enemy. While helping Li Yun maintain the array,
Yan Zhengming orders Han Yuan to carve many simple wooden bird
talismans using the wooden pieces they brought with them. This is a
type of basic talisman that Li Yun improved because he liked small
animals. It doesn’t take up much energy, while the wooden pieces
turn into life-like birds that can spy for them without attracting
attention.

The problem is Han Yuan’s skill isn’t very good. The birds he makes
all have two extra legs. They can fly, but if they walk, they’d all
stumble.
Li Yun dares not relax for a second for the whole night. All of his
mental and physical strength is soaked up by the array. Seeing that
the eastern sky has brightened, he can’t resist asking, “How long is
this going to last?”

“Not much longer,” Yan Zhengming replies with certainty. “This

asshole has schemes everywhere. He won’t waste his time dithering
here.”
Sect Leader Yan is right again. When the sun rises, Zhou Hanzheng
can’t delay anymore.
By this time, the sky is clear and the sunlight is warm over the sea.
One of the masked figures watches Zhou Hanzheng’s face and
suggests. “Your Excellency, it’s no use staying here. Let’s go back
before there is more trouble?”

Zhou Hanzheng clasps his hands and considers for a moment. He

too feels that it’s meaningless to waste the time with this person in
hiding, whose agenda is a mystery. All of his goals for this trip have
been accomplished; they can withdraw in satisfaction. So he nods.
Glancing around the small island, which seems to be covered in fog
and clouds because of the illusion, he raises his voice. “Daoyu, I
don’t know who you’re. I only want to rest here and have no ill intent.
If I’ve offended you, please forgive me.”

Hearing that, Li Yun lets out a long sigh in relief, nearly losing control
over his energy. He wipes the cold sweat on his forehead and says
in a low voice, “Oh god, he finally leaves.”
They are only a short-ish distance away from Zhou Hanzheng at this
point, hidden by a small mountain. Even without their spies, they can
hear what Zhou Hanzheng says.

Yan Zhengming says nothing. He has been using spells and

talismans to support the array the whole night. Having given the only
burin to Han Yuan, he had to use his sword. Carving spells and
talismans using a specialist knife or a random sharp object are two
different levels of skills. This is the first time Yan Zhengming crosses
this threshold. From time to time, he couldn’t maintain his control,
causing the energy on the spell to act up. As a result, his hands are
full of small cuts. A shadow is on his face. He isn’t happy at all to
hear that Zhou Hanzheng wants to leave.
When can he have a proper fight in the open with that Zhou asshole
like a real person?

Zhou Hanzheng doesn’t seem to mind that the person on the island
doesn’t reply. He just says, “Let’s go.”

Then he leads the masked figures to fly up on their swords.

However, as soon as he is in the air, Zhou Hanzheng senses
something is watching him. He has decent cultivation level so his
senses are naturally good. He instinctively reaches out to those
watching eyes and catches… a four-legged bird.
Zhou Hanzheng frowns, not knowing what kind of strange animal this
is. An idea sparks in his head. He squeezes the bird’s neck to kill it.
The struggling small bird turns into a rough talisman.

Zhou Hanzheng breaks the talisman without much force into two.
The energy inside it disperses. Anyone observant will know that the
cultivation level of the creator isn’t that high.

Yan Zhengming’s heart drops as he thinks. “Shit.”

Zhou Hanzheng sniffs the broken talisman like a hunting dog. As if
he remembers something, his face changes and the frown
disappears. A vague smile appears with a touch of cruelty. “And here
I thought this was some stranger. It was worth a trip here after all.”

Before that, he dared not sweep the island with his mind, because
he was afraid the cultivator on here was more powerful than him.
Once his mind was detected and suppressed, he would suffer from a
backlash. Using whatever method, he now knows that the people on
the island are Yan Zhengming’s group, so he has nothing to worry
anymore. As soon as those words come out, Zhou Hanzheng’s
oppressive mental power sweeps across the island. Li Yun’s illusory
array is only good for scaring people; it’s unable to withstand one hit.
There is no way to hide where they are.

Standing on his sword in the air, Zhou Hanzheng casually smiles.

“Sect Leader Yan, however you look at it, I gave you a lesson at
Lecture Hall. What’s the saying, teacher for one day, father for life?
Why are you hiding there instead of meeting me here?”

Having said that, he waves his arm. Lightning immediately appears

on his fan and charges at Li Yun’s array. In a second, the illusory
array that has style but not substance is destroyed.

As if suffering a heavy hit, Li Yun collapses onto the ground. He can’t

stand back up even after a good while.
With a face that looks even worse than Li Yun, Yan Zhengming
catches him and places him to a side. Then he wordlessly stands up
and draws his sword, obviously with the intent to walk outside.

Han Yuan blanches. “Most senior brother, what are you doing?”
His face cold as ice, Yan Zhengming doesn’t even stop. “Don’t follow
me.”

Even at this age, Han Yuan has never taken on any responsibility.
Looking at Li Yun and then Puddle, he is initially at a loss about what
to do. He stays dazedly where he is for a while, then takes a deep
breath and runs after Yan Zhengming.

Zhou Hanzheng looks at Yan Zhengming appreciatively. “Long time

no see, you’ve changed a lot. This old friend is glad.”

Yan Zhengming suddenly Cheng Qian’s sentiment of ‘drawing the

sword without wasting his breath’. He has never hated anyone like
this. The sensation of hatred may scare a person, but may also be a
boost to their mind, being an endless source for their power.
Under the clear sky over the wild island, the heart of the young sect
leader is full of killing intent.

His disciple brothers and little sister are right behind him. Yan
Zhengming has no choice but to fight. Not wanting to waste his
breath talking, Yan Zhengming draws his sword and charges
forward.

However, Zhou Hanzheng doesn’t meet his attack. The two masked
figures that accompany him surf forward on their swords and block
Yan Zhengming’s path.

Zhou Hanzheng leisurely watches from outside the fight, still finding
the time to comment. “Fuyao. Back then, countless powerful
cultivators filled the endless mountains that reached the clouds. A
stomp of their feet could shake both heaven and earth. Such
charisma and power! Yet in the present your sect is in exile in the
wilderness. The turns of fortune are indeed unpredictable.”
With a strike, Yan Zhengming breaks the barrier of the two masked
figures that blocks him. He turns into a ray of light that charges
directly at Zhou Hanzheng, whose robe flutters in the wind of the
sword. However, Zhou Hanzheng doesn’t seem to have any regard
for his opponent. The fan has not even opened, but there is a ringing
sound that comes from the handle, then a ray of lightning flies out
and chips a piece from the blade of Yan Zhengming’s sword.

“Sect Leader Yan, if it was like before, with your cultivation level, you
wouldn’t even be an official disciple of your sect,” Zhou Hanzheng
smiles. “Isn’t that sect leader seal on your neck too heavy for you?
Why don’t you let me share the burden?”
His fingers curl up into claws; a black cloud swirls in his palm. The
claws charge from high at Yan Zhengming.
Yan Zhengming turns his body to aside to avoid the attack, then
immediately makes a horizontal strike. Yet he feels as if his wrist was
hit instead.

Zhou Hanzheng’s claws are reinforced with the quality of diamond.

Yan Zhengming’s strike doesn’t even break a nail. On the contrary,
those claws get even bigger and press on Yan Zhengming’s head as
if to cover the sky.

At this moment, Yan Zhengming hears Han Yuan shout. “Come and
get a slap from your grandpa!”

His heart beating like mad, Yan Zhengming turns his head and sees
that Han Yuan and Li Yun, whom he left behind, have both emerged.
The two masked figures immediately target them. Li Yun can only
fight a little and Han Yuan is a complete amateur. They are besieged
with danger.
In just a second of distraction, Zhou Hanzheng’s giant claws have
come close to him. Yan Zhengming can’t evade anymore. He has to
risk injury and use an all-or-nothing move from “Not according to
wish”, with the intent to sacrifice himself along with his enemy.

Yan Zhengming is willing to take that risk, but Zhou Hanzheng is

worried for his own life. He reluctantly withdraws his attack and falls
back, thinking, “How strange. As it turns out, a desperate rabbit will
bite too.”
Unexpectedly, as soon as he steps back, a sword flash cold as frost
attacks him from behind. Zhou Hanzheng shudders; the fan is finally
opened, giving out a flash of lightning fire.
As the lightning hits the sea, a fierce wave rises like a water dragon,
making seawater fall on the island like a rain.
Zhou Hanzheng carefully takes two steps back. His eyes widen as
he sees the person who just appears. It turns out to be Cheng Qian.

When Cheng Qian fell on the great rock, he already looked like a
beggar, with his hair completely messed up. After the training by
Wen Ya Zhenren’s shades, his clothes became tattered rags that
couldn’t get any worse. However, seeing this absurd appearance of
his, all of the killing intent in Yan Zhengming’s chest dissipates.

Knowing how he is going to turn out in the future, Sect Leader Yan
nearly cries when he sees Cheng Qian, his mouth opening with no
word coming out.

Glancing at Yan Zhengming’s awkward appearance, Cheng Qian

suddenly feels what it is like to have someone’s attention. He knows
that it isn’t the right time, but he can’t help crinkling his eyes.

Isn’t what a person longs for all of their life is to have someone
angrily open the door and yell ‘Which ditch did you die in this time?”
when they comes home, tired from travelling, on a moonless night?

Zhou Hanzheng didn’t see Cheng Qian before, but he didn’t really
take note of that. In his eyes, besides their sect, these kids struggling
to stay alive had nothing worth paying attention to. Yet, he nearly
paid for his oversight.

Back then, Zhou Hanzheng already had some regard for Cheng
Qian when they first met at Lecture Hall. In the present, the youth
had grown up. He has better control of his emotions, while his heart
doesn’t change at all, which fits the will of that frosty blade. However,
now matter how appreciative Zhou Hanzheng is, he still looks down
on Cheng Qian’s cultivation level. He smiles. “Young Daoyu, do you
want to take part in this discussion too?”
“You’re mistaken, Senior Zhou. I have no intention to do that at all,”
Shuang Ren in hand, Cheng Qian politely greets Zhou Hanzheng.
Then he immediately activates the Spirit Collection Jade Wen Ya
Zhenren gave him.

Zhou Hanzheng can already tell that something is wrong when his
body feels heavy. Then he realises that his energy base has been
frozen, the circulation is stagnant, and his cultivation level has been
reduced at least six out of ten.

Zhou Hanzheng is terrified, thinking, what kind of accursed

technique is this?

Cheng Qian doesn’t give him any time to react. Bringing with it the
force of the sea tide, Shuang Ren strikes at Zhou Hanzheng’s head.
The Zhou one has to do the humiliating of falling back for a good
distance. Because his cultivation is suddenly suppressed, the
diamond-like energy shield around his body disappears. Shuang
Ren’s sword energy has no pity on him and tears off a piece of his
robe at the front, revealing the flesh.

“I’m not here for discussion,” Cheng Qian finishes his speech in a
soft voice, “But to silence you forever.”

This turn of events startles everyone. Having been let off by a

masked figure, Han Yuan coughs as he cranes his head to watch,
muttering, “That’s my Third Brother? Is he possessed or something?”

Puddle gapes, letting the seawater in her mouth and having to spit it
out.

“It’s not that Xiao-Qian becomes powerful. It’s Zhou Hanzheng,” Li

Yun quickly reacts. “He suddenly couldn’t even stand. His protective
energy isn’t there either.”
On one hand, Yan Zhengming worriedly thinks, “Did he meet
someone shady when he went missing? What kind of improper tricks
did he learn?”

On the other hand, he fearlessly blocks the masked figures that are
trying to help their boss.

Under the power of the Sea Tide Sword, water vapour on the island
flies in the air and freezes into white frost. Zhou Hanzheng fearfully
says, “Wait, that’s the killer sword Shuang Ren? Why do you have
it?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t bother to reply him. With a wave of his hand, he
turns the frost into a whirlwind, the bottom of which is sharp as an ice
knife, and aims it directly at Zhou Hanzheng’s forehead.

Zhou Hanzheng doesn’t at all expect Cheng Qian to deliver a killing

blow with no hesitation like that, despite his young age. Zhou
Hanzheng roars as the fan shakes in the wind; the power of lighting
fire on the fan is obviously suppressed by the frosty fog in the air. He
uses all his might to wave the fan, to the point that he nearly can’t
continue again, and manages to summon a strong wind that carries
lightning to smash the ice blade aiming at him. A second later, the
ice pieces that are gone return like the sea tide and combine with
each other again, attacking with even more power than before!

Zhou Hanzheng keeps having to fall back. He helplessly attacks the

strange binding on him using his spiritual energy, while glaring at
Cheng Qian. “You brat, don’t force me into a corner, else you’ll regret
it.”

Cheng Qian nearly bursts out laughing to hear that, thinking, why
didn’t you take your own advice when you bullied other people?
As he makes the hand sign for sword riding, Shuang Ren pursues
Zhou Hanzheng like an arrow released from its bow. The vapour
swirling in the air is half real half not, its power causing everyone to
gape out of awe.

Zhou Hanzheng fights back with difficulty, as lightning and frozen fog
clash with each other in the air, making the ground shake. At this
point, Cheng Qian has more energy than Zhou Hanzheng, who is
under the suppression of the Spirit Collection Jade. With this
newfound understanding of Sea Tide Sword, he doesn’t leave his
enemy a moment to breathe.

Cheng Qian certainly didn’t joke about ‘killing Zhou Hanzheng to

shut him up’. He doesn’t even care that nearly all of his energy
reserve has been consumed by the three strikes. Relying on the
Spirit Collection Jade, he gathers all his might once more and jumps
up, catching Shuang Ren again. Concentrating all of his suppressed
hatred all these years into the blade, he is prepared to kill Zhou
Hanzheng in the next strike.
Zhou Hanzheng’s pupils constricts to the size of a needle point. In
this state of emergency, he throws the fan away, then grits his teeth
and makes a series of very complicated hand signs. The clear sky
suddenly turns dark, black clouds gathering like a threatening pile of
smoke. Risking his precious fan, Zhou Hanzheng delays Cheng Qian
for a short while with difficulty. There is a tearing sound. The fan of
thunder and lightning is no match for the legendary killer sword. It is
torn into two by Shuang Ren and drops in pieces on the ground.
Unable to break the binding on his body, like a cornered animal,
Zhou Hanzheng uses his own flesh and blood as the conductor to
summon lightning from the heavens!
Even with the might of heaven threatening over his head, Cheng
Qian doesn’t bother to look up. Killing intent filling in his eyes, all he
cares about is finishing off Zhou Hanzheng. He spares no mind for
anything else.

As Yan Zhengming beats the two masked figures into the ground, he
hears the strange sound. As he turns his head, what he sees scares
his soul out of him.

He rides his chipped sword as fast as possible like a wind into the
battle, and stops Cheng Qian in his path. Using the momentum, he
immediately changes the direction, as the lightning from the sky
seemingly grazes his back. Yan Zhengming feels goosebumps
spread all over his body because of the thunder and wind.
The wild island shakes. Even the sea is disturbed too. A black hole
appears on the ground, giving off the burnt smell.

The thunder and lightning make Yan Zhengming unable to hear or

see anything. Using his sense of touch, he finds Cheng Qian’s robe
and clutches at it, growling, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Cheng Qian isn’t in a much better state than him. He only feels his
most senior brother’s chest rumbling without hearing anything, so he
yells back. “What’re you screaming about? I can’t hear anything!”

Yan Zhengming gives him a rap on the head. Cheng Qian nearly lost
control of his energy because of his strike, so his defenses are
temporarily down. Because of that rap, his head collides with Yan
Zhengming’s shoulder.

However, before he can raise his head, the hand that just hit him
presses the back of his head in a gesture that tolerates no argument.
Yan Zhengming has embraced him tightly.
In that moment, Yan Zhengming squeezes his arms so tightly that
they shake, as if he just woke up from a nightmare. Or rather, he just
survived an accident.

Nothing else in this world can bring him so much comfort like this
dirty body.

Suddenly his heart are full of words struggling to get out, but he
doesn’t know where to start, as if he has grasped something, but he
hasn’t fully understood what it is yet. Before he can get to it, the
thunder is over. This wet blanket Cheng Qian rubs his own head and
pushes him away, then declares to Yan Zhengming, whose hearing
has recovered. “I haven’t killed that Zhou bastard yet. Talk later.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Although he isn’t sure what he wants to say, the feeling of being

stunned speechless is really “soul numbing.”

Zhou Hanzheng was already suppressed by the Spirit Collection

Jade, then repeatedly sustained injuries. After he used his body as
conductor for the lightning from the sky, nearly all of his meridians
are destroyed. Even if Cheng Qian has lost his control and Spirit
Collection Jade is no longer effective, he keeps lying in a heap on
the ground, unable to stand up.
His mouth is full of blood as he glares to the point of all the white in
his eyes showing at Cheng Qian, who is approaching. His throat can
only give off scratchy sounds. He repeatedly tries to stand up but
keeps falling down. His hands claw at the muddy ground, leaving
streaks of blood behind. It is a terrible sight.
Unfortunately, Cheng Qian has a heart of iron. Facing that sight, he
feels neither pity nor fear, but keeps walking forward with the intent
to deal Zhou Hanzheng the killing blow.
At this moment, Zhou Hanzheng’s mouth curls up in a devilish smile.
Something buzzes in his sleeve. Cheng Qian frowns, as he is
startled by the realisation that something is not right. Just a second
later, he hears the sharp ripping sound of the wind.

Cheng Qian knows he has to run away. However, his body doesn’t
obey his will, as his energy is already used up.

Pain surges on his back as a hand stabs from behind and pierces his
chest.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 48

Edits are by MrMissMrsRandom as usual. Thanks a lot.

*******
From time to time, a moment short as a blink of the eye will feel very
long, as if it would never end.

A person may have to endure a few seemingly endless moments like

that, such as when they’re about to die.
Driven by Cheng Qian’s instinct, Shuang Ren’s tip points to the back
as it flies up in the air, until he turns his head and sees the person
behind him. It is Han Yuan.
There are many reasons for Han Yuan to suddenly run behind his
back. Maybe he wanted to watch the show, or to give Zhou
Hanzheng a kick, or to yell a few insults. No one would be on alert
against him.

At that moment, the eyes of Cheng Qian’s Fourth Brother is filled

with the red that appeared on the rogue cultivators on Azure Dragon
Island. The familiar face is covered by the black energy, the features
distorted. He seems to have concentrated all of his spiritual energy
on this hand of his. The strike used up too much force, causing his
fingers to break, but he doesn’t feel the pain.

The rogue cultivators on the island who were under the ‘drawing on
soul’ spell were in the same state. Forget pain, they weren’t even
aware that they were dying.

Cheng Qian stares at Han Yuan, disbelief on his face. He feels that
his spiritual energy and life force are pouring out of him from the hole
on his chest. His feelings are pouring alongside them too. There is
no way to stop them, whether he blocks the hole, struggles, or
refuses to believe it.

Han Yuan looks back, unaware of anything. Then he withdraws his

hand from Cheng Qian’s chest, blood and flesh on that hand
splashing on his face, then he dazedly watches the latter fall under
his feet.

Cheng Qian still stares fixedly at him. His limbs unconsciously

spasm; the little remaining blood seems to concentrate around his
eyes. However, he can’t say a word.

All the unbearable griefs and sublime joys throughout the years
since his birth become trivial and faded, in the face of the resigned
‘such is fate’.

In the end, Shuang Ren, which is already on the neck of Han Yuan,
shakes wildly then falls down like a piece of ordinary iron, leaving
behind only a thin scratch.

Everything happens too fast, that everyone can only stare dazedly. It
isn’t until Puddle breaks out first and starts crying that Yan
Zhengming acts as if he just woke up from a dream. He freezes in
his half-kneeling pose; his limbs feel as if they were filled with lead.
All of his body is as stiff as a rock, making him unable to even stand
up.

Spurred by the moment, Li Yun, who is always fearful, finds his fire.
He forgets how scary the rogue cultivators on Azure Dragon Island
looked, and recklessly runs forward to tackle Han Yuan away.
Being pushed, Han Yuan falls down on his back. However, he
doesn’t stand up, but keeps lying there with empty gaze. Had it not
been for the rise and fall of his chest, he would look just like a newly
dead corpse.
“Xiao-Qian, Xiao-Qian,” Li Yun’s vision is filled with tears. He hastily
kneels by Cheng Qian, his hand searching aimlessly on his own
body, as if he still holds the hope that they’d be in luck and
something can be found to save Cheng Qian’s life.

Cheng Qian is lying on his side on the ground, like a dying fish stuck
on land. Perhaps thanks to Li Yun’s voice, his pupils that are already
dilating become a little lively again, like the last flare of the candle.
Immediately, Shuang Ren, which is lying like a corpse, flies up,
passes by Li Yun and nearly freezes the tears on his face, then stabs
into the top of Zhou Hanzheng’s skull.

Both sword and human are an example of the saying “a man’s heart
is firm as steel even at time of death”.

It already took Zhou Hanzheng lots of effort to escape the Spirit

Collection Jade, then he recklessly cast the ‘drawing on soul’ spell
on Han Yuan. He basically can’t live much longer. With that strike,
the threat posed by him is finally over.

There is a special connection between Cheng Qian and Shuang

Ren. He can tell without checking that Zhou Hanzheng really died
under his sword.

A faint smile appears on the bloody face of the youth. As Zhou

Hanzheng is finally killed, no one else will know they’re from Fuyao
Sect, provided they’re careful. No one will hunt them for the sake of
half-imaginary treasures on Fuyao Mountain.
Cheng Qian quietly breathes out relief, feeling that he can finally rest
after completing his mission. He slightly tilts his face toward the
earth, as a person who is dying would instinctively search for a place
to return to.

Suddenly Li Yun fearfully shouts, “Han Yuan! What are you doing?”

After Zhou Hanzheng dies, Han Yuan’s entire body spasms like a
marionette. However, because of some unknown trick done on him,
Han Yuan still hasn’t regained his consciousness. His dazed eyes
glance around him. When they stop on Cheng Qian, a struggle can
be seen on his face, as if the real Han Yuan is fighting with all his
might to regain the control of his body.
In the end, however, he can’t wake up.

Han Yuan suddenly stands up and runs straight into the sea, without
sparing a glance at his disciple brothers on the island.

Having cried his eyes out, Li Yun makes a hand sign heedless of
whether it’s correct or not, then charges in the direction of Han
Yuan’s back. Countless threads as fine as spider web fly out from his
hand and tie Han Yuan up, as Li Yun shouts, “Stay right there!”

Han Yuan doesn’t seem to register those threads, and just lets them
leave scratches on his body. Li Yun grits his teeth and aggressively
curls up his fingers with the intention to drag Han Yuan back.
However, a fire of unknown origin suddenly erupts on Han Yuan’s
body. The fire burns up Li Yun’s threads as well as Han Yuan’s own
clothes. Thus, freed from all hindrance and completely naked, Han
Yuan runs into the endless sea and disappears.
Cheng Qian isn’t aware of what has been going on. All of his senses
have become dull, as he can feel only pain. A cold pair of hands
reach forward and lift his entire body up, the shaking fingers
caressing his face.

Strangely enough, Cheng Qian can’t even smell the blood, but he
can sense the orchid fragrance.

This is the scent that came from the sleeve whenever his most
senior brother dressed his wounds for him, that emanated from the
brocade blanket whenever he crashed in his senior brother’s room.
He always feels sleepy when surrounded by that scent.

His consciousness begins to fade. The alertness just a moment ago

when he was determined to make Zhou Hanzheng the mattress of
his deathbed disappeared. In that moment, Cheng Qian feels like in
a dream and forgets where he is.

“I…,” Cheng Qian says softly as if he were sleeptalking.

Yan Zhengming bows his head slowly so that his ear is by Cheng
Qian’s lips. “Yes?”
“Want… to… go… home…”

Yan Zhengming is dazed for a while, then he smiles a smile that is

mixed with sorrow.

He shakily lifts Cheng Qian up and gently says, “Yes, let’s go home.
I’ll take you back to Fuyao Mountain. Let’s go.”
A smile passes on Cheng Qian’s lips. He gradually doesn’t have
enough energy to talk anymore, so he falls silent.
At the same time, a random thought comes to him. “It hurts. If dying
hurts this much, did being born hurt like this too?”

He then remembers that, when he was born, his mother suffered all
of the pain in his stead.
Suddenly, all of Cheng Qian’s resentment against his parents,
against everyone else dissipates. Even the hardship of life in exile at
the grace of other person in his short life fades away in the gentle
orchid fragrance.
In the end, Cheng Qian’s head loses its strength and falls against
Yan Zhengming’s head.

To be able to meet and stay together in this transient world is like a

dream. It comes and goes, beyond a human’s reach.

Li Yun hastily chases after him. “Brother! Brother! Put him down.
Xiao-Qian has passed away!”
Yan Zhengming turns a deaf ear to him. Li Yun seizes his arm.
“Brother!”

Yan Zhengming stops and turns to look at him in silence. There isn’t
a single drop of tear on his face. Li Yun’s heart drops, afraid that he
would say, “Copper Coin is sleeping. Don’t be noisy.”
One of them is dead; another has gone missing. If Yan Zhengming
goes mad, Li Yun won’t know what to do anymore. He steps back a
little, and says in shaky voice, “Most senior brother, don’t scare me
like that.”
“I know,” Yan Zhengming looks down and mutters in a low voice, “I
haven’t gone mad. Go soothe little sister so that she stops crying.”

Hearing that, Li Yun is even more scared, because he senses that

his most senior brother’s madness isn’t the usual kind.
“Get water,” Yan Zhengming orders. He doesn’t even look back as
he carries Cheng Qian’s body into the island, saying, “Let’s clean
him up first. Then we should try and make a boat.”

Li Yun confusedly asks, “Make a boat? To go where?”

Yan Zhengming replies. “Let’s go back to my family first, but I think
they’re no longer alive. Although my family are the most wealthy in
the region, they are only mortals. Eliminating them is just like
crushing a hive of ants. If I can see with my own eyes that I’ve lost
them, I won’t long for them anymore.”
A chill runs along Li Yun’s spine. Along the way, they still tried to fool
themselves and pretend that Xue Qing had only lost the puppet
charm, that nothing serious had happened to him. That of course the
Yan family had still been safe. Yet in the present, their sect leader
and senior brother has let himself go and opens his arms to all the
bad news that can strike him in this world.

Zhe Shi quietly lets Puddle down, then strides to fetch water.
Afterwards, he helps Yan Zhengming set Cheng Qian down and
clean up all of the blood on the body of the youth. As they’re done,
Yan Zhengming still feels that Cheng Qian’s clothes are so torn up,
and that’s unfair for him, so he takes off his outer robe and wraps
Cheng Qian in it.

Yan Zhengming half kneels by Cheng Qian’s side. He dazedly stares

at that face, feeling numerous thoughts turn to ash in his heart.
Yan Zhengming suddenly thinks. “What’s the point of me living on?
Why don’t I accompany him and be done with it?”

As soon as that thought appears in his head, Yan Zhengming’s

energy base immediately becomes disquiet. His face takes on an
unsettling shade, an early sign of qi deviation. Resentment rises in
his heart and forms an inescapable net that tightly wraps his soul.
Zhou Hanzheng, Tang Yao, Bai Ji,... countless faces pass by his
eyes.

“Why haven’t those fuckers died yet?” Yan Zhengming suddenly

mutters out loud. “The so-called Path of Heaven, is it just for that
kind of scum to live forever?”

Zhe Shi, who is standing closest to him, immediately senses that

something is wrong. He calls in a low voice, “Sect Leader?”

Yan Zhengming slowly turns to him. The beautiful eyes that are
normally full of smiles look like a bottomless empty well, dark without
a speck of light. Yan Zhengming suddenly laughs softly and stresses
every syllable. “When I reach the highest level of cultivation, I will do
whatever I wish, kill whomever I want, seize whatever catches my
eyes. Whoever dares to stand in my way, I’ll rip him to pieces, such
that he can’t reincarnate again, regardless if he is a god or a
buddha!”

Li Yun is terrified. “Brother, what, what are you saying?”

“Why?” Yan Zhengming’s voice is stuck hoarsely in his throat.
“Why?!”

Before he even finishes those words, a sphere of black energy rises

around him. Dirt and rocks around him fly up at the sound of his
voice, preventing the others to come near. Li Yun grasps at his
shoulder before thinking it through, and gets thrown roughly away,
smashing his bottom into the ground.

Even more helpless than Li Yun, Zhe Shi has no other choice than to
look at him for a solution.

Li Yun springs up with a bravado he doesn’t feel. “Yan Zhengming!

This happened to Xiao-Qian. We lost Xiao-Yuan too. Do you think
that I’m so heartless I feel nothing at all? I wish I could die in his
place!”

Ever since he was young, Li Yun’s personality is soft. He didn’t have

much forcefulness even for causing troubles. As he gets older, he
very rarely gets really angry. The heat that he used all his might to
gather is completely empty after two or three lines. His eyes red from
crying, Li Yun takes a deep breath, then chokes out something he
has been refusing to admit all these years. “At least Cheng Qian was
much more powerful than me.”

Unfortunately, his rare expression of his heart falls on deaf ears. Yan
Zhengming seemingly doesn’t hear anything, as rocks fly from the
ground into Li Yun’s face like a slap, leaving behind a trace of blood.
Li Yun is forced to fall back a few more steps, just enough for him to
bump in Puddle, who is completely forgotten.

Puddle helplessly clings to his thigh. Her round face has gotten
much thinner, making her chin as pointed as the two Soul Seeking
Needles on her neck. Glancing at her, Li Yun suddenly squats down
and presses her shoulder, then speaks urgently. “Lend me your Soul
Seeking Needles for a bit!”
Before Puddle can react, Li Yun already pulls out one of the Soul
Seeking Needles. He quickly breaks the wooden cover, then throws
it at Yan Zhengming.
Puddle is immobilised by fear. With an air ripping sound, the Soul
Seeking Needle flies into the black fog and pierces Yan Zhengming’s
shoulder.

The thick black fog quickly dissipates. Yan Zhengming groans

slightly and collapses onto Cheng Qian. He doesn’t get up again for
a good while.

Li Yun quickly walks forward and pulls out the poisonous needles
from Yan Zhengming. Then Li Yun sends in a gust of spiritual energy
to force out the poisoned blood before it can spread. When the blood
that comes out is completely red, he breathes out in relief, and takes
out a vial of poison antidote soaked with seawater from his robe. He
pushes it at Yan Zhengming, who doesn’t even move, and
awkwardly says, “I called for you but you didn’t respond. There was
no other way. Brother, take the antidote first.”

Yan Zhengming doesn’t look up. Li Yun waits, but receives no reply.
He carefully puts a hand on the uninjured shoulder of Yan
Zhengming, and finally realises that his most senior brother is
shaking like a leaf.

Yan Zhengming holds Cheng Qian’s already cold body tightly in his
arms, and screams out his tears.

They stay on the island for half a month, and manage to make a boat
carved all over with spells. The little boat can only carry two people.
Fortunately, Puddle is still young enough for all of them to fit in. As
Yan Zhengming can already ride the sword, he can fly alongside
them. He tears a piece of fabric and carefully wraps Cheng Qian’s
sword Shuang Ren to bring with him, which is the most simple
luggage possible.

“Sect leader and senior brother, let’s go,” Li Yun reminds him.

Yan Zhengming nods, then turns his head and looks on the
nameless wild island one last time. His normally cheerful expression
is shrouded in grief. Those few days seem to be as long as years. In
just a short while, the youth has been remade into an adult.

As Yan Zhengming looks on the island, there is a tremble to his

eyes, revealing a sorrowful tenderness. “One day, when we can
return to Fuyao Mountain in broad daylight, I will take you home,
okay?”

Of course, no one answers him.

Carrying Shuang Ren, which is wrapped in a tattered piece of fabric,

on his back, Yan Zhengming steps on his chipped sword and rides
forward to lead the way.
Both the sky and the sea have the dull colour of loss.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 49

Start of Book 3! Many thanks to my usual partners in crime

MrMissMrsRandom and InkSplatterM

*******
In the heavy rain and wind, a winding road runs through a thick
forest; its end point is nowhere to be seen.
No one has passed through here for a long time. Under the heavy
rain, the road becomes muddier, making it even more difficult to
travel.

A youth of about sixteen or seventeen years old supports an old man

as they walk wobbly through the forest. They wear tattered travelling
cloaks that aren’t really up to the task. After travelling more than half
the night, every spot that can be wet on their bodies is soaked. The
old man seemingly has some problem with his leg. In the cold, he
has to stop from time to time to massage his knees.

He squints his eyes, which are already blurry from old age, to try and
look ahead to see what was in the distance, unable to keep from
sighing.
The youth by his side says, his voice full of dissatisfaction, “Where
the fuck are those immortals? They regularly take our offerings, but
when we need to ask for help, we have to go through this shit. What
use is it for the communities around here to put aside food and
money to worship them?”
Terrified to hear such words, the old man hastily says, “Watch your
mouth!”
The youth glares like a young tiger and continues to speak without
any reservation. “Am I wrong though? They are the so-called
guardians of this regions, who are to ensure we’ll have good
weather. Do we ever skim on our offerings when there is drought or
flood? Back then, Prince Anping rebelled. All three districts and
fifteen towns suffered disasters. Bandits were everywhere. People
had to leave their homelands. Did they ever show up? Fine, let’s
consider it mortal affairs that aren’t under the purview of immortals.
But now, evil ghosts have been plaguing the villages, eating and
drinking human flesh and blood, but they don’t seem to be aware of
it. Do they want us to come begging?”

As his legs hurt so much that he can’t stand up straight, the old man
says, “The immortals cultivate in serenity, away from worldly affairs.
If we need their help, of course we have to come to them and ask.
Don’t be like this!”

The youth angrily says, “But isn’t it the case. This is the road to
Mingming Valley, and it’s difficult to travel through. And then there is
the condition that only people with a sincere heart may pass! Why
don’t they move as carefully when receiving offerings? Why do they
demand a sincere heart now of all times...”

“Liu Lang, shut up!” The old man taps his walking stick harshly on
the ground. “If you continue to yammer like this, then you should
scram! Don’t be insolent in the presence of the immortals and cause
trouble for everyone in all fifteen towns!”

Seeing that his grandfather’s face is darkened with anger, the youth
dares not say anything else. Taking the opportunity when his
grandfather turns away, he sneers with disgust and mutters under
his breath. “What’s so good about those immortals?”

At that moment, an extraordinarily fierce ray of lightning strikes at the

ground not very far away from them. The youth doesn’t expect that,
so his face is pale with fear. He immediately puts aside his rancour.
Waiting for the thunder to die down, he hastily asks, “Grandpa, why
does the lightning feel so wrong today?”

Before the old man can reply, the lightning falls down as thickly as
the rain, casting a pale white light on the night sky. Terrified, the old
man hastily pulls his grandson to prostrate on the ground next to
him. They dare not even move, completely submissive to the
heavenly might. All wild animals in the forest hide in their dens. Even
the trees and plants shake.

It takes a long while for the thunder to subside, but its echo lingers
as the ground seemingly continues to shake.

Hearing nothing else for a long while, the youth is shaken to the
core. He dares not show any more disrespect.

It isn’t until the strong rain stops and the black clouds disperse,
revealing the pale moonlight from the sky, that the youth fearfully
helps the old man to stand up and continue their journey.

The youth named Liu Lang asks, “Grandpa, there must have been a
dozen rounds of thunder back there. Mingming Valley won’t be
stricken down, will it?”

“Stop talking,” The old man rebukes his grandson in a low voice. As
he wobbly walks on the muddy trail, he says softly, “Probably it was
an immortal undergoing a tribulation.”

“Tribulation?”
“It isn’t easy to cultivate. An immortal has to undergo countless
tribulations. I heard that heavenly tribulations like this are the
toughest. Many immortals fall during such tribulations, but if they
survive, they will make a great progress in their cultivation, and get
closer to true immortality alongside the heaven and earth.” At this
point, the old man looks a bit puzzled. “I heard it from my grandpa
that he once witnessed an immortal undergoing a tribulation, but at
that time there were only nine rounds of lightning from the heaven.
Why was it so harsh for this immortal? Can it be that the immortal
undergoing the trial is someone as powerful as the lord of the
valley?”
While they talk, the winding trail has a sharp turn, leading into a wide
open space, which gives them the whole view of Mingming Valley.

The valley between the mountains glistens from afar like crystal.
After the refreshing rain, the flowers bloom everywhere. Under the
pale moonlight like a thin screen of fog, the valley indeed looks like
paradise on earth.
The youth happily says, “Grandpa, look, we’ve…”
Before he can finish his speech, he stands dazedly on the spot.

Close to the mountainside full of flowers, there is a large, flat ground

lined by a ring of spells, which a normal person wouldn’t be able to
understand. In the present, the ground has been scorched by the
lightnings, making a stark contrast with the area outside the ring of
spells: outside the flowers are blooming, inside not a single blade of
grass survives.

Someone is standing on that scorched ground.

That person is dressed in a tattered robe, a sleeve of which has
been burnt into ash. From behind, the person has a tall figure, likely
to be a man’s.
That person seems to be able to hear Liu Lang from a considerable
distance. He turns and looks at grandfather and grandson. Although
his clothes are tattered, this man is very handsome. Under the
moonlight, he seems to be carved from jade. However, his eyes look
like they contain white permafrost. Meeting that gaze, Liu Lang feels
cold all over. He is so scared that he dares not move.

Liu Lang is immediately pulled down by his grandfather onto the

ground. As they prostrate themselves, the old man repeatedly
kowtows to that person, saying, “Greetings to you, Lord Immortal,
this lowly one is from the fifteen towns outside the valley. Begging
your pardon, we come here to ask you a favour, my Lord, not to
trespass.”
The man seems surprised, then he waves his arm. Liu Lang feels a
chilly breeze surround him. It carries the cold of late autumn, enough
to make one shudder but not freeze. Suddenly he feels light all over,
as he and his grandfather are lifted up by that breeze.
This immortal is surprisingly easy to talk to. He doesn’t make it
difficult for them. On the contrary, he politely says. “No need for that.
Affairs outside the valley aren’t under my purview. Let me summon
someone for you.”

Having said that, he points and shoots out a ray of white light at the
horizon. Shortly after, a dot of light like a firefly flies in their direction.
As it comes near, Liu Lang realises that it’s a servant riding on a
sword.

Landing and withdrawing his sword, the servant respectfully greets

this man in tattered clothes. “Elder Cheng, please let me
congratulate you for passing a major heavenly tribulation, and
progressing further in cultivation.”
“Nothing to congratulate me. I nearly got burnt to ash,” The man
replies blandly, then points to the travel-worn grandfather and
grandson. “They’re from outside, likely in need of something. Take
care of them.”
After these simple lines, he nods in farewell to Liu Lang and his
grandfather. Then there is a flash, and he disappears.

This casual display of teleportation stuns Liu Lang. As the servant

invites them to get in the valley, his head is still full of the image of
that person standing on the scorched ground and turning back to
look at them.
Liu Lang distractedly thinks, that guy doesn’t seem to be older than
me, but he is already an elder of Mingming Valley? He can’t help but
feel a touch of admiration. However, as he recalls the freezing gaze
of the person, he hastily suppresses his admiration. Respect mixed
with fear in his heart, he dares not let his thoughts wander anymore.
The servant pulls out from his robe a leaf and plays a short melody
with it. There is the sound of a horse neighing in the air. Then a white
horse pulling a carriage lands from the sky. Its nostrils flaring, the
horse stands neatly on the ground.

With a friendly expression, the servant says, “If it weren’t for you
two’s luck, I might not have the chance to talk to him. Please get in.”
The two mortals shyly enter the flying horse carriage. With the
boldness of youth, Liu Lang asks, “Brother Immortal, is he an elder
of the valley?”
Worried that he would say something unwise, the old man hastily
pulls him back, and says fearfully, “Lord Immortal, please forgive us.
This boy…”
“No need for you to worry,” The servant cheerfully says as he urges
the flying horse to start running, “In our Mingming Valley there is an
extremely cold ice lake. Even I dare not go there. I heard that normal
water would already freeze from a short distance to that lake, but the
sacred ice water in there still flows. I don’t know when that
gentleman moved in there, just that he uses the area right next to the
lake as his cultivation abode, and seals off the cold of the entire lake
inside. Then he cultivates inside that place of extreme cold. As you
can see, this valley is so lively thanks to him taking control of that ice
lake. He doesn’t appear around here normally. We secretly call him
‘the Elder of the Dark Lake’.”

Liu Lang is amazed to hear that. He can’t resist asking. “How cold is
that place? Isn’t he afraid of it?”

The servant smiles. “A cultivator needs extraordinary patience. If he

doesn’t have such determination, how can he reach the end of the
Way?”

While they talk, the carriage goes up and down several times. As
they reach the middle of the mountains, the carriage gradually lands.
As Liu Lang gets off the carriage, he can see that the valley has
elaborate buildings that are in harmony with the beautiful scenery.
Serenity reigns over the place. No one is around, except for some
immortal cranes flying around. As soon as he enters this place, Liu
Lang feels light all over. Startled, he looks down and sees that the
mud on his clothes from the all-night travel has disappeared, as
warmth fills his body.

The servant leads them into a pavillion, and pours them tea amidst
the effusive thank-yous. Then he asks what business they have.

The old man sighs. “About that… It’s a long story. Usually we dare
not disturb the immortal lords over our trivial affairs. However,
recently a monster has appeared outside the valley and caused
great harms to the villages. Its victims are exclusively children. In
less than ten days, four or five boys disappeared from the towns and
villages. After a few days, their bodies were found in the wilderness.
The animals had nearly finished them all. We already informed the
local official. A coroner was sent to investigate, and said that those
children died from having their blood bled dry.”
Hearing that, the smiling face of the servant becomes serious.
“What? Bled dry? How old were those boys?”

Muttering “what evil”, the old man replies, “They were all less than
ten years old. After that happened, everyone kept watch outside for
several nights. After that… after that, we all saw a white shade, that
looked like a piece of white silk in the wind. In just a second, it
reached us. Before we could react, someone screamed. Then we
saw that a person had a hole on his chest, because his heart was
ripped out by that thing. The official was terrified too, saying that the
local government couldn’t handle such evil demons. So I was sent
here to ask for help from the immortal lords.”
After hearing everything, the servant carefully asks for some
clarifications, then says, “I’ve a general idea of the issue now. Please
don’t worry. You should rest tonight at our valley with this young
friend. I will inform the seniors of the valley. Tomorrow you’ll receive
an answer.”
That night, the old man and his grandson Liu Lang stay at Mingming
Valley amidst their worry. In the valley, the breeze is pleasant, and
the air is filled with floral fragrance. It’s a wonderful place, but Liu
Lang can’t find sleep. His mind is filled with that elder who looks so
young yet already undergoes trial by lightning. He is in a half-dream
like that until after midnight, when he suddenly hears the sound of
people talking outside. They are quite far away, so Liu Lang can only
hear a small incoherent part of the conversation.
A male voice says, “Indeed, I heard about it on my way here. Still, it
may not be that difficult a case, if that one just causes troubles in
mortal villages. Well, maybe you can ask Cheng Qian to have a look
on his way through there.”

An older male voice says, “That works. He has passed seven rounds
of heavenly tribulations. He can be considered to be reborn from
trials by now. It’s time that he leaves.”

Liu Lang has been unable to sleep, but for some reasons, his eyelids
become heavy as he hears these words. In a few seconds, his mind
becomes blurry and he doesn’t hear anything else.

The two people walk by the window of his room in the direction of the
ice lake in the valley. The old man in the front has white hair but a
lively face. His body is round as a ball. He has a wide smile that
makes his eyes crinkle, and richly dresses in a brocade robe, the
belt of which has all kinds of accessories like pouch or jade medal.
He looks just like a mortal wealthy man. That is the lord of Mingming
Valley, Nian Mingming.

Behind Nian Mingming is a middle aged man, who dresses like a

scholar. This man has a pleasant face. On closer look, he turns out
to be Tang Zhen, whose primordial mind escaped the Soul
Consuming Lamp back then.

Whether by possession or some other magical technique, Tang Zhen

has a body again. However, this body doesn’t seem to be good. It
looks sickly and full of a deathly aura.

Tang Zhenren carries a white lantern. There is no candle in the

lantern; its paper covers a gentle sphere of light, which is probably
some kind of cultivational artifact. He says, “This was my idea. No
one has ever done it yet. I myself didn’t really believe he could
succeed.”

Nian Mingming smiles. “His flesh and blood body died young; that’s
the tribulation of the human realm. As he was about to die, he had
an enlightenment, which helped his soul to enter the Spirit Collection
Jade. That Jade is a sacred artifact, which can gather the essence of
nature inside it. A human soul shouldn’t have been able to enter it.
Yet this boy, despite his young age, could keep his soul and the mind
of his self intact, while he stayed in the Spirit Collection Jade forty
nine1 years. Even without a flesh and blood body as the base, he
formed his primordial mind in the jade. That is the tribulation of the
earthly realm. Forty nine years ago, you took the Spirit Collection
Jade he took shelter in to my Mingming Valley. Then he used the
Jade as the foundation and cultivated for forty nine years more.
Besides the extreme cold, he had to suffer seven rounds of heavenly
tribulations. Alas, he isn’t yet a hundred years old, but has gone
through tribulations of all three heavenly, earthly, and human realms.
I have a long life, but I’ve never seen such determination like his.”

As Nian Mingming speaks, he taps his belly with a complicated

expression. “If I had just half of his determination, I would certainly
had a trim waist.”

Tang Zhen: “…”

This powerful and highly venerable cultivator can already live without
food. However, he still craves food. It can be said that this round
body of his is the result of accumulation from many years.

Tang Zhenren is stunned speechless for a moment. Then he says

solemnly, “My lord, I’ve been remiss in my courtesy and forget to
thank you for lending the ice lake.”
Nian Mingming waves his hand and says, “Nah, don’t talk about
‘lending’. Thanks to him taking control of the ice lake, my useless
disciples are saved from the cold, so we benefit from him being here.
Not to mention, it’s an honour to have someone of his calibre as an
‘elder’ in this lowly Mingming Valley.”

“This young friend did me a great favour. Back then, when Wen
Daoyu brought the Spirit Collection Jade to me, I had to find a way to
help him,” Tang Zhen says, “The problem is, although he had the
luck of forming his primordial spirit in the Spirit Collection Jade, it
was unprecedented that the jade could be transformed into a flesh
and blood body. I wasn’t completely sure it would work. Fearing that
he would be too impatient if the process got too long, I took away his
memory. Now, he has passed the seven heavenly tribulations. His
body has been successfully forged. I should return to him what is
his.”

They arrive at the ice lake as they talk. Tang Zhen can’t handle the
cold, so he hastily makes a hand sign, as the aura of death on his
face gets a little thicker.

As they walk forward, there is the sound of water pouring. The owner
of this place has just finished bathing and is getting out of the frozen
lake. Nian Mingming raises his voice, “Cheng Qian my young friend,
am I disturbing you?”

This is not the first time this fat geezer disturbs Cheng Qian’s peace.
For whatever reason, everyone in Mingming Valley, no matter their
station, is incredibly talkative. Cheng Qian already gets used to it.

He casually walks out of the white fog over the ice lake, picks up the
frozen robe by the lake, and puts it on. After just a few steps, his
hair, which is full of ice, dries up; the robe also thaws out. His highly
cultivated body soundlessly makes a beautiful view.
Cheng Qian nods at the two of them and says, “My lord, Tang-xiong,
I was about to look for you two. Do you want to come in? It’s a bit
cold.”

It’s in the middle of summer, but the cultivation abode next to the ice
lake isn’t hot at all. On the contrary, inside it is the realm of deep
winter. The chairs are all frozen and stuck to the ground, a layer of
frost covers them. Cheng Qian makes a small sign with his finger; a
gentle fire appears from his fingertip and falls onto a chair. In a
second, the frost on the chair melts completely, while the chair isn’t
burnt at all.

Cheng Qian says, “Tang-xiong, your body is weak. Please find

somewhere warm and sit down.”

He pays no mind to the lord of the valley Nian Mingming. That

geezer has lots of fat; he should withstand the cold pretty well.

The water in the teapot on the table has long frozen. Cheng Qian
shakes it a little. The block of ice melts under the power of his
spiritual energy. In a few seconds, the warm steam wafts up. He
pours out for each of his guests a cup of warm water.

Receiving the hand warmer, Tang Zhen places the lantern in front of
Cheng Qian and says, “My young friend, it’s time to return this to
you. It was a risky solution, where the chances of death were nine
out of death. After such hardship, you should be careful in the
future.”
Cheng Qian isn’t surprised at all. He obviously is aware that Tang
Zhen took away his memory of the past. He nods and waves his
hand; the small flame in the lantern flies into his sleeve. Then he
solemnly says, “Tang-xiong, you helped me to come back to life. In
the future, if you need me for anything, I’ll do it, even at risk of
death.”
*******

1. 49: 49 days is traditionally the time period in which a deceased

person's soul fully leaves the realm of the living.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 50

Thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for editing and InkSplatterM for the English

help

*******
It is morning. On the Jiangnan trade route that is full of dust under
the summer glare, a caravan is stopped in the middle of the way by
the officials.

“Stop! What are you selling? Get down here for inspection.”

The officials that stop the caravan all look exhausted. They must
have been waiting for the whole night on this road. The strange thing
is, there are two middle-aged men dressed in cultivator’s garbs
behind them. These two men don’t accompany the officials. They
just sit cross-legged from afar, seemingly aloof from all worldly
affairs.

The manager of the caravan hastily gets down from his horse and
bows deeply. “Your Excellency, we purchase leather from the North
and transport it here to resell. Everything is legal. Please…”
He deftly takes out a money pouch from his sleeve and discreetly
gives it to the official.

Greed flashes on the face of the chief official. As he is about to take

the money pouch, he appears to remember something and hesitate.
He furtively turns his head and looks at the two cultivators that are
not far from there, then grits his teeth and pushes the money pouch
back, saying harshly, “What are you doing? You dishonest
merchants, why are you giving bribes instead of doing your business
properly? Get lost!”

He waves his arm. “Search them!”

The manager trails behind the officials with a frown. “Please, Your
Excellency, please be gentle. If these are torn, we can’t sell them…”
The several wagons of the caravan indeed carry leather as he
reported. As the officials can’t find anything, the face of the chief
increasingly darkens. He turns and points at an overly large carriage
at the back of the caravan, asking, “What’s in there?”

The manager quickly replied, “Your Excellency, that’s the personal

carriage of our young master.”

“Young master?” The chief snorts. “What kind of young master that
takes up such a big carriage all by himself? Even the royal princes
aren’t that ostentatious. Step aside!”
The manager can’t stop the officials from surrounding that unusually
large carriage.
The chief takes out a palm-size wooden sword from his robe and
waves it around as if to cast a spell, babbling like a spirit medium. A
mortal isn’t like a cultivator. If he wants to activate the charm, he has
to recite fully the password of that charm. The charms that aren’t
meant to be used by mortals wouldn’t have that kind of backdoor,
and thus can only be circulated among the cultivators.

It takes a while for the charm on the wooden sword to be activated.

A green light flares up on the tip of the sword as it points at the
carriage.
The chief excitedly shouts. “There are indeed banned goods inside
that carriage. Open it!”

The so-called ‘banned goods’ are charms and cultivational artifacts

that are traded in the black market by commoners.

The imperial government demands all charms and cultivational

artifacts have to be inspected and approved by the Celestial
Divination Bureau before being circulated in the market, so that they
won’t be abused by those without morals, causing troubles for
society.
That rule makes sense. However, the artifacts that are submitted to
the Celestial Divination Bureau, besides the necessary bribery to
avoid hassles, take forever to be looked at. What is more, most of
them don’t get approved, but are actually embezzled by the officials
and the royal family. Thus, in the market, a legal cultivational artifact
may cost a fortune.

When it comes to the smugglers, the imperial government can’t

control the slippery cultivators. They can only get at the mortals.
Thus, the law is extremely harsh. Anyone who trades in illegal
cultivational artifacts will be considered a traitor of the realm, and will
be executed alongside their entire family.

Nevertheless, the black market for cultivational artifacts is highly

active despite such bans. There are always some daredevils who
are willing to risk their lives for immense profits. In recent years, a
figure with the nickname “Money Hunting Young Master”, who claims
to “need money more than life”, emerges. This person is the bold yet
elusive leader of a smuggling ring for banned goods.

Some say this character has connections with corrupted officials.

Some claim he is obviously a cultivator.
As unrests and rebellions plague the realm, many of the rebels are in
possession of banned goods from the black market, causing many
troubles to the imperial government. Thus, the current emperor hates
these criminals who risk their lives for profits to the bone. The
inspections keep getting stricter. Officials are posted on every trade
route, and a group of powerful Celestial Divination Bureau members
cast their net everywhere.
At the order of the chief official, the two cultivators look at each other
and come forward. That carriage is indecently large, occupying more
than half of the road. Before the manager can stop it, the chief
official pulls open the curtain of the carriage, just as the person
inside looks up.

It is a young man in his early twenties. Dressed in rich clothes, he is

languidly reclining in the carriage and holding a book in his hand. His
half-shut eyes glancing at the outside, he looks like a fox immortal in
folk tales. The chief official can’t help staring dazedly on the spot.

The interior of the carriage is even more luxurious than the outside.
In the summer heat, there is ice in the carriage, chilling a glistening
bottle of apricot wine.

As soon as he sees the chief official, this seductively beautiful young

man immediately frowns and hides his face behind his book, saying
angrily, “Where is this thing from? Chase him away! What an
eyesore!”

This insult is aimed at the chief official, who opens the curtain of the
carriage. He wakes up from his daze and finds his words with much
difficulty. “I- in- insolent! You dare to transport banned goods, which
is a traitorous act to be punished by beheading! Get down here and
turn yourself in!”
“Banned goods?” The young man raises his eyebrow. “You mean
this?”

There is a strange ring on his slender finger, the mounting of which is

in the shape of a coin. Before the official can see clearly what this
ring is made from, a white shade appears from the square hole in the
middle of the coin, and solidifies into the upper body of a youth. Such
an unusual artifact makes the official gape.

Then, with an expressionless face, the youth raises his hand and
slaps the official, then smugly disappears into the air.

The young man glances from above and says without any sincerity.
“Ah, sorry, Your Excellency. You’re standing too close. This isn’t
banned goods, just something I made for fun. To be honest, it’s
making me depressed. I don’t know which strokes to make, in order
to make this dearest hold a conversation with me. He currently only
slaps people.”
The two cultivators that accompany the officials finally start talking,
as they coldly stare at the young man. “Are you a cultivator too?”

The young man in the carriage acts like he didn’t hear anything. With
an arrogant expression, he leans deeper into the soft cushions, not
even bothering to straighten his back.
The official that was slapped raises his hackles. “Lords Immortal, he
looks suspicious to me. Maybe he is that ‘Money Hunting Young
Master’!”

The cultivator from Celestial Divination Bureau asks, “Daoyu, may I

ask why you take the trouble and travel with these mortals?”

The young man replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world,
“I like it. To show off, you know.”
The cultivator is stunned speechless. Taking a deep breath, he
probes again. “Then may I ask who your master is?”

The young man snorts. “Why do I have to tell you? Are you done
yet? Step aside!”

As soon as he says that, the young man slams his hand on the table.
A small sword-shaped mark flashes on his forehead, then a ray of
powerful sword will charges at the two cultivators.

The young man looks lethargic to the point of lifeless. However, that
appearance unexpectedly hides great power. He is at least at the
level of forming a sword from his primordial spirit and controlling it
smoothly.
Being suddenly attacked, the two cultivators that block the carriage
hastily rush to the sides, not daring to counterattack. That busybody
chief official has already passed out.

Although they have cultivated for centuries, the two cultivators don’t
want to mess with this sword cultivator. They look at each other then
both walk away. “Senior, apologies for disturbing you. Please go on.”

For a sword cultivator to reach this level, he would enjoy respect

from even the most powerful cultivators. This person must have a
steely determination, who would be regarded as a venerable elder
and be waited on hand and foot in any sect. Why would such a
person do such a shameless thing like smuggling and trading in the
black market?

The immortal lords have made their decisions; the underlings have
to obey, no matter how unwillingly. The officials all withdraw in a blink
of the eye. They even re-arrange the leather goods neatly for the
caravan before seeing them off.
It isn’t until they have made a good distance that the manager
breathes out in relief. He timidly approaches the window of the
carriage, then makes a deep bow and speaks in a tone of flattery. “It
was said that this route was seldom inspected, but our luck is
unexpectedly bad. It’s all thanks to you taking the trouble to
accompany us today, Young Master.”
The person from inside the carriage casually says, “Don’t be a
stranger, Manager Li. I just happen to travel in the same direction. If
you really want to pay us back, then please do us a little favour and
give us good prices in the future.”

Manager Li hastily replies, “You’re talking us up, Young Master. It’s

us who need you to be favourable to us.”
At that moment, a sharp whistling sound suddenly rises in the air. A
moving sphere of fire drops on to the top of the carriage, making a
thud. Then it flares up and a young lady appears.

This lady has fine features, with almond eyes and a graceful face.
She is beautiful, but the way she dresses is very eccentric, with
colourful feathers sticking out from the back of her head. From the
front, she is a beauty, but from the back, she is actually a prancing
pheasant!

She sweeps a glance at the gaping mortals surrounding her. Then,

dusting her hands, she jumps down from the top of the carriage and
unceremoniously gets inside, greeting, “Most senior brother, I’m
here!”

The sword cultivator inside the carriage, who does the

unprecedented thing and travels in a trading caravan with mortals, is
none other than Yan Zhengming.
A hundred years pass by in a blink of the eye. Back then, together
with his disciple brother and sister and his servant, Yan Zhengming
crossed the Eastern Sea and travelled thousands of miles back to
his family, only to see the mournful ruins. Eight years before, the Yan
family had been accused of crimes and harshly punished. From the
wealthiest and most powerful family in the region, all that was left of
them was weeds on the graves.
Yan Zhengming and the others had to claim the world as their home,
and embarked on the endless and challenging journey of cultivation.
They seized dens of the yao, took shelter in abandoned mystic sites,
smuggled banned goods for the black market, relying on no one but
themselves to survive in a tough spot throughout the years.

It isn’t until a couple of years ago that there is a place for Sect
Leader Yan to enjoy again the comforts of his youth.

Before Puddle can settle in the carriage, Yan Zhengming already

raises his hand and blows away the chicken feathers in her hair,
which fall down all over the place. Puddle cries mournfully. “Hey, my
feathers! How can I show up in public anymore!”

Yan Zhengming says, “It’s me who can’t show up in public. What are
you doing here? Trying to blind me?”

Feeling that she is wronged, Puddle picks up the feathers, blows

away the dust, and carefully puts them away like great treasures.
She says, “Recently there are many rumours from Shuzhong. In the
beginning, it was said that a demonic cultivator left some kind of
artifact. Then we just heard that a practitioner of the ghost path
showed up there. Second Brother was impatient, so he left first and
sent me here to inform you.”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming frowns. They have still been looking
for Han Yuan, who went missing without a trace after running into the
sea. However, their search has been all in vain. Whenever they hear
rumours about a demon appearing somewhere, they will go there,
even if they feel little hope for actual result.

Yan Zhengming is aware that they are going to have yet another
unsuccessful trip, but there is no other way. He signs and finishes
the apricot wine in his cup. “Let’s go. Goodbye, Manager Li.”

Shuzhong, Mingming Valley.

In the early morning, Cheng Qian uses the excuse that Tang Zhen’s
body is weak to chase away Nian Mingming, who has been in an
enthusiastic discussion about swordplay with him.

Nian Mingming doesn’t use a sword. This person, who can’t see his
own feet, uses shorter weapons, because they’re safer. But the lord
of the valley still loves swordplay for some reason.

Cheng Qian guesses that in his heart, Lord Nian thinks of himself as
a handsome youth dressed in a fluttering white robe, so he dreams
about what he doesn’t have.
Like swordplay… and a trim waist.

After he agreed to pay a visit to the towns that pay offerings to the
valley on behalf of its lord, Cheng Qian sees off Nian Mingming and
Tang Zhen. When he is completely alone in this place of extreme
cold, where he was in seclusion for fifty years, he takes out from his
robe the memory orb Tang Zhen returned to him.

He knows that his flesh and blood body already died, and that as
Fate willed it, his soul entered the Spirit Collection Jade and got
stuck in there for decades before Wen Ya Zhenren found him.

Tang Zhen is a straightforward person. Back then, he sent his

primordial spirit into the Spirit Collection Jade, and in front of Cheng
Qian’s eyes, took away all of the latter’s memory about his life and
death. In the present, Cheng Qian has left his seclusion. The
memory of the life before, which urgently wants to return to him, is
already in his hand. However, he gets a little cold feet.

In the recent years, some trivial fragments would appear in Cheng

Qian’s mind. Such as he suddenly felt he should have a sword in his
hand, there should be a bamboo grove where he lived, or the
mattress and blanket of his bed should have the mind-calming scent
mixed with the orchid fragrance, and so on.

The sphere of memory Tang Zhen returned to him doesn’t have a

strong light, but it isn’t gloomy either. Cheng Qian turns it around in
his hand and looks at it closely. There isn’t a single crack on it.

The white light seems cold, but it actually feels warm in the hand, the
sensation of which is even stronger in this icy place.

Cheng Qian takes a deep breath and blinks, causing the frost that
gathers on his eyelashes during his moment of daydreaming to fall
down. As soon as his fingers loosen just a little, the memory of the
past that has been floating around outside immediately enters his
forehead with even more haste than its owner, like a tired bird that
longs to return to its nest.

Immediately, the memory of his adolescent years crosses the

hundred years of life and death and crashes over him. He feels as if
he has just woken up from a long dream. The vague impressions in
his heart all become vivid, as if they just happened yesterday.
His climb up Fuyao Mountain, his journey to Azure Dragon Island,
picking up Shuang Ren, putting down the silver knife, his
enlightenment on the wild island, the scent of orchid on his disciple
brother, his sufferings in the Spirit Collection Jade...
These events aren’t a previous life at all.
When Cheng Qian opens his eyes again, the sun has risen outside.
His eyes are burning with tears. The ice lake has forged his heart to
be as calm as still water, but it can’t stop the relentless
homesickness caused by a hundred years of longing.

No wonder Tang Zhen and Nian Mingming believe that he will leave,
once he receives the memory after getting out of seclusion.

Cheng Qian rises and walks to the ice lake. He raises his hand and
curls his fingers. The completely still water of the lake suddenly rises
up and freezes in the air into an ice sword, which flies into his hand.
The ground around the ice lake is as tough as the thousand-year
permafrost, but it can’t resist the unmatched sharpness of this sword.

Cheng Qian fluently draws a ring of highly complicated spells around

the ice lake. When the ring of spells is completed, the ice sword can’t
handle the spiritual energy anymore and breaks into pieces. Then
the fragments melt, as the cold of the ice lake has been sealed off.

In case no one will control the ice lake once Cheng Qian is gone, this
ring of spells can seal off the coldness for about twenty years. After
that period, if that geezer doesn’t know to imitate it, Cheng Qian will
return and reinforce the seal himself.

From the beginning to the end, he doesn’t want to ignore people who
have shown him grace.

When Cheng Qian goes to the tower of the valley’s lord to say
goodbye, the grandfather and grandson who came to ask for help
the day before have been taken home. There is only Nian Mingming,
who looks at him like a father about to send his daughter to her new
husband’s house. He dabs his sleeve on his eyes and says in a low
voice. “Once you’re gone, hard to tell when we’ll meet again.”
What an eyesore. Cheng Qian feels it’s better that they don’t ever
see each other again.

Nian Mingming continues. “If you aren’t happy outside the valley, feel
free to return here. You won’t have to stay by the ice lake either. I’ll
have quarters be prepared for you.”

Cheng Qian’s heart softens. However, before it is completely melted

away, the geezer says, “I’ve told the disciples in the valley that if they
are bullied when travelling outside, they should call on you. My
young friend, you must take care of them!”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He turns to leave, preparing to immediately sever all connections
with this place. Nian Mingming hastily calls him back. “Wait, my
young friend, I’ve prepared a sword that suits you!”

As Cheng Qian turns his head, he is nearly dazzled to the point of

going blind. In the hand of Lord Nian is an indescribably shiny sword.
Its scabbard is made of gold inlaid with jewels. That can be given a
pass, but there are also ostentatious carvings of the four noble
plants, one next to the other: plum, orchid, bamboo, and
chrysanthemum. These “nobles” look more like four nouveau riche
lords congratulating each other for their wealth.
The corner of his mouth twitching, Cheng Qian pretends to be polite.
“You should keep it, my lord.”

Nian Mingming sighs and shakes his head. “That’s unsurprising. You
leave here after undergoing seven rounds of heavenly tribulations.
Of course, you should be considered one of the greats. A humble
family like mine has nothing worthy for you…”

Before he finishes, his hand has become empty. The nouveau riche
sword has been taken by Cheng Qian. Saying “Thank you”, he rides
the sword into the sky, leaving behind him a golden ray that shines
on Mingming Valley like the sun.

The young servant sticks out his head from the door and asks Nian
Mingming, who is smiling brightly, “My lord, has the Elder of the Dark
Lake left?”

“Yes,” Nian Mingming cheerfully says, then comments with some

feelings. “Alas, talented people like him will perform great deeds in
the outside world, but they have to undergo many hardships too.
Those with good luck but no talents like us have to stay behind and
enjoy our happiness. Kid, do you need something?”
“Oh,” The servant says casually, “I come here to report to you that
my young disciple uncle has run away again!”

Nian Mingming: “…”

 Liu Yao - Chapter 51

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

*******
Having walked less than two steps from the valley, Cheng Qian
suddenly pauses. He looks up and raises his hand to make a pulling
motion. Then comes an ‘ouch’, and a strong-looking young man falls
down from a great tree by the exit of the valley.
His body falls to the ground first, his belongings take a little longer,
just enough to crashing on to his head. Whatever is in the carrier, it
is pretty heavy and makes a loud sound as it meets the skull of the
young man. His eyes rolling inside, he falls into unconsciousness, as
if he ascended even before completing his training.

Cheng Qian: “…”

Although Cheng Qian doesn’t know anyone else in Mingming Valley

besides its lord, there is no mistaking this inimitable style. This one is
definitely a disciple of Lord Nian.

As he is about to leave, the young man comes to. As he sees Cheng

Qian, his face is full of joy. Carrying a big bruise on his head, he
rushes to Cheng Qian’s feet and yells. “Senior! I’ve been waiting for
you here since midnight!”

These words sound weird to Cheng Qian. It is as if this guy thought

they arranged to elope with each other, but one side dishonorably
broke the promise.
Cheng Qian clears his throat. “No need to stand on ceremony. Uhm,
don’t call me Senior.”
That young man seems surprised. “Ah, then Elder Cheng, I’d like to
travel the world outside, so please take me with you. Uhm, you don’t
like ‘Elder’ either? How should I address you? Disciple Uncle! No, I
get it. M- Master! Shall I ask you to take me in as your disciple?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Seeing as this young man wants to take the opportunity and is about
to kowtow to him in a makeshift ritual to become his disciple, Cheng
Qian hastily pulls him up. “No, I’m not accepting disciples at the
moment. Who is your master in the valley?”

The young man says casually, “No one. I train here and there with
the lord of the valley, who is my father. He won’t mind me becoming
the disciple of another person.”

Hearing this unsurprising reply, Cheng Qian can’t resist mocking with
a straight face. “Ah, no wonder. The young generation is indeed
formidable.”

The young man is very happy to hear that, delusionally believe those
words to be sincere. He says modestly, “Not at all. I still have to learn
a lot.”

“…” Cheng Qian tiredly rubs his forehead and asks. “What’s your
name?”

The young man straightens up and replies proudly. “Nian Dada!”

A better liar wouldn’t be able to suppress his feeling and compliment
this name either. Cheng Qian is now certain that the brain of Lord
Nian has been gnawed by something.
Nian Dada doesn’t seem to mind that Cheng Qian refuses to accept
him as a disciple. He boldly carries his belongings and tails Cheng
Qian, asking without any embarrassment, “D- Disciple Uncle, where
are we going?”
This is obviously an attempt to strike up a conversation. Too lazy to
talk to him, Cheng Qian pretends not to hear anything. Nian Dada
isn’t bothered by that. Not receiving an answer, he plays both roles in
the talk and replies to himself. “Dumb question, we are of course
travelling to the fifteen towns. Uncle, what do you think the demons
in the towns are?”

This time, he doesn’t wait for Cheng Qian, but replies to himself,
“Wherever they come from, it’s wrong to harm people. We have to
punish them!”

Cheng Qian finally turns his head and interrupts his one-man act by
asking, “Did your father allow you to leave the valley on your own
like that?”

“My father doesn’t mind,” Nian Dada says, “Uncle, don’t worry. In our
Mingming Valley, as long as we are acknowledged to complete our
training, we are free.”

Those words make Cheng Qian’s teeth ache. He can’t imagine what
kind of master would allow this one to get out of their sight.

In a rare instance where he reads Cheng Qian’s expression

correctly, Nian Dada explains with some embarrassment. “Uncle,
you were in seclusion all the time, so you may not know that our rule
is ‘It doesn’t matter if one’s cultivation level is low, just a bit is
enough, as long as one doesn’t cause trouble outside. And if one
causes trouble, one must not bother the valley.”
Cheng Qian has no word to reply to that.
Nian Dada continues. “In short, the main point of travel is to enjoy
oneself, and to get rid of evil if the occasion calls for it. Oh, of course,
one should only fight those one can win against. Those that are
stronger are to be left to more powerful seniors.”

Glancing at the sword the lord of the valley gifted him, Cheng Qian
finally understands. As it turns out, the sword is meant to cover his
expenses to enjoy himself on the way.

He suddenly thinks of something, and can’t resist smiling to himself.

Nian Dada immediately stares dazedly at him like a strangled duck.

Whenever he and his disciples in Mingming Valley gathered for idle
gossips, they liked to discuss the Elder of the Dark Lake. What kind
of person could choose the ice lake as their base and stay in
seclusion there for decades? Could that person even speak when he
got out of there?

Who could last through so many rounds of heavenly tribulations,

without losing a single hair?
That person couldn’t be a human!

Although Nian Dada has been cheerfully monologuing in Cheng

Qian’s presence, out of some inexplicable worship towards this
young elder, he is in fact very nervous. His legs have been shaking
the whole time under the robe.

Seeing how dazed his face is, Cheng Qian asks in a surprised tone,
“What’s wrong?”

Nian Dada hastily pinches himself. “I- I- I-.... About this, uhm….”
“No need to be nervous. I was just thinking of our sect leader and
senior brother. He is a bit like your father,” Cheng Qian is rarely in a
mood for chit-chat like this. “Oh, of course, I mean their ways of
thinking are similar. My disciple brother’s figure is different.”

Nian Dada hastily offers up some flattery. “How can that be? No way
your sect leader can be like my father! Otherwise, how could he
bring up someone as powerful as you?”

Unfortunately, his attempt at flattery touches a sensitive spot.

Cheng Qian’s faint smile disappears as soon as he hears those
words. He continues to walk towards the villages in the distance, his
head hanging. After a long while, he says in a low voice, his heart full
of feelings, “I don’t know. Bad luck, maybe?”
Although Cheng Qian doesn’t explicitly give him permission to come
along, Nian Dada still thickens his skin and trails after him. It isn’t
often that he has the opportunity to be close to a prominent figure
like this.

At less than half a mile from a village, Cheng Qian feels that
something is wrong. He calmly channels spiritual energy to his eyes,
and sees that the village and town are covered in a cloud of bloody
sheen, which rises up all the way to a dark sky full of ominous black
clouds.

Cheng Qian frowns. This is abnormal. He doesn’t believe that a

being that gives off this kind of energy will be easy to handle.
It should be said that against powerful cultivators, who can control
the elements, the mortals are completely helpless. Therefore,
preying on mortals isn’t really different from acting like a mere
animal. Even a true demonic cultivator won’t do something that
embarrassing.

Can it be that the perpetrator here intentionally fakes it, so that those
in Mingming Valley think that this ‘demon’ is just a lousy rogue
cultivator?
Thus, they of course wouldn’t need to kill a chicken with a knife
meant for a water buffalo. Had it not been for Cheng Qian’s desire to
quickly leave the valley, maybe Lord Nian would indeed send an
inexperienced servant with so-so cultivational power to deal with the
matter.

And then… what would happen?

Cheng Qian’s mind races. Something sparks in his head. Maybe the
real target of the unseen perpetrator isn’t the mortal residents of this
place, but the cultivators of Mingming Valley!
He immediately suppresses his spiritual energy. In a second, his
powerful frost-like aura of someone who has formed his primordial
spirit disappears. Walking side by side, he and Nian Dada look like
fellow disciple brothers who have similar skill levels.

Nian Dada seems to be an easy going sort. He doesn’t sense the

bloody aura over the village, nor is he aware of any change on
Cheng Qian. He keeps playing an enthusiastic guide. “I was here
once when I was small. Uncle, do you see that guy? It seems he is a
local coming here to receive us!”

Liu Lang, who has returned before them, has been respectfully
waiting for a while. As soon as he sees the two of them, he breaks
into strides to meet them. However, Liu Lang totally didn’t expect
Cheng Qian to come. He is so awed by the great honour that he is
temporarily at a loss, forgetting even to speak.
“Are the bodies still here? Lead me to them.” Cheng Qian doesn’t
stand on ceremony. He walks past Liu Lang into the village.

Regaining his composure, Liu Lang hastily follows him. “Yes, yes,
Lord Immortal… Uhm, please rest for a bit. I’ll call for the tea to be
served for you.”

Cheng Qian waves his arm. “No need, I’m not used to warm water. I
want to have a look first...”

He stops in the middle of his speech, being surprised by the bad

state of the village.
This place is barely more than a ruin. Hearing that an immortal has
come, the residents all pour out into the streets to have a look. They
all seem unhealthy and dress in tattered clothes. It is a big village,
but there is no proper house built from bricks and tiles. Some of the
cottages even look like they were re-built haphazardly after
collapsing. The random dogs that run by are also just skin and
bones, their gaze wild, like that of wolves’.

They dare not get close to Cheng Qian, only staring hungrily at Nian
Dada the whole way.

These dogs must have already hunted for food and tasted blood.

Although Cheng Qian hasn’t been in society for a hundred years, he

still remembers that he was born in a backwater area. His family
were at the absolute bottom, who could be said to be veterans in
poverty. However, this place is still a different level to him.

Liu Lang awkwardly explains. “Lord Immortal, it seems you’ve never

left Mingming Valley. Two years ago, there were a series of natural
disasters, then Prince An Ping rebelled and that war lasted for three
years. The imperial court both conscripted people and raised taxes.
We haven’t recovered yet, so we may be remiss in our courtesy. I
hope you don’t mind, my lord.”

Cheng Qian shakes his head, his heart filled with complicated
emotions.
It isn’t until now that he fully feels the ravages of time, as one
hundred years have passed and the world has completely changed.
Feeling that the garish sword for his ‘travel expenses’ in his hand is
getting in the way, he discreetly makes the hand sign to hide it away.

At that moment, something touches on his awareness that he

unconsciously lets loose. Cheng Qian turns his head, but he sees
nothing besides the dotted tree shades.

Nian Dada carelessly turns and asks, “Disciple uncle, what are you
doing? Why aren’t you going yet?”

Cheng Qian thinks, “We are being watched, you dumbass.”

Despite having such words in his mind, Cheng Qian shows nothing
on his face. He only withdraws his awareness and quietly follows Liu
Lang to where the corpses are, pretending not to notice anything.

Nian Dada enthusiastically approaches him and says, “Disciple

uncle, I heard from my fellow disciples that this was caused by a
practitioner of the ghost path!”

“A Soul Consuming Lamp? Indeed, a Soul Consuming Lamp

requires blood from young boys during the processing of demonic
shades,” Cheng Qian says casually, “But I heard that the blood the
Lamp requires has to come from a living child, in such a small
amount that it can’t kill the child with just one time. Furthermore, after
several repetitions, the blood of that child can’t be used again.
Therefore, those who die because of the Soul Consuming Lamp
aren’t like these victims, who died because all of their blood was
sucked dry. Also, a Soul Consuming Lamp is an artifact of extreme
yin. How can there be so many of them?”
Nian Dada’s heart is filled with even more admiration. “Disciple
uncle, how come do you know everything?”
Looking at those big, ignorant eyes, Cheng Qian feels this one isn’t
even useful as entertainment. He is really an annoying load.

In the summer heat, the bodies, which have been there for several
days, are already rotting. As the cloth covering them are lifted, a
swarm of flies buzz outside. As soon as they reach Cheng Qian, they
run away because of the cold. Under Nian Dada’s admiring gaze,
Cheng Qian puts his hand on the body of a child with no hesitation.
A cloud of black energy rises from the body into the air and turns into
a demonic face. As soon as it sees Cheng Qian, it terrifiedly runs
away.
Frowning slightly, Cheng Qian chases after it.

Nian Dada doesn’t react in time. It takes a few beats for him to say
“Oh” and prepare to follow Cheng Qian, but the latter is nowhere to
be seen.

He hastily pulls a big sword from his bundle, and leaves the rest of
his belonging to Liu Lang. He tries to follow Cheng Qian on his
sword, calling, “Uncle! Please wait for me!”

However, Cheng Qian has disappeared. Making a round on his

sword, Nian Dada dispiritedly returns to the old spot. Scratching his
head, he tells the local people, “He’s nowhere to be seen.”
Liu Lang quickly says, “Lord Immortal, can you bring me along? I
grew up here, so I know every path. I can lead you to where that
white shade usually appears.”

Nian Dada awkwardly looks at him. This young man isn’t that skilled.
It already takes great effort for him to ride the sword by himself; he
can’t take anyone along. However, he doesn’t want to tell the truth.
Pretending to clear his throat, he puts away his sword and finds an
excuse. “That works. However, it’s harder to see everything in the
air. It won’t be good if we miss my disciple uncle. Shall we travel on
land instead?”

Then he pulls out from his bundle some talismans made with red ink
on yellow paper. These talismans don’t take up much spiritual
energy, but are picky about materials. Furthermore, they can only be
used once. Usually, they’re prepared by the seniors for the useless
disciples when the latter travel.

Nian Dada turns the talismans over for such a long while that his
eyes nearly fall out. He finally pulls out two talismans for walking fast
and sticks each of those on his own leg and then Liu Lang’s, saying,
“Let’s go!”

His face white as a sheet, Liu Lang is pulled along by Nian Dada.

Neither of them see that there is a Golden Thread Cicada on a

nearby tree, which doesn’t move as it pretends to be a ‘normal’
cicada for a long while. Then it quietly leaves the tree and follows
Nian Dada and Liu Lang. However, after just three or four miles, it
suddenly pauses, as if running into something.

The Golden Thread Cicada spins two rounds by the wayside, then
falls into the ground and turns into a leaf. That leaf splits into two and
releases a sphere of energy, which flies to a spot on a mountain not
fifty miles away from this place.
Amidst the great mountains of Shuzhong, a man and a woman are
looking down from the mountainside. They are none other than Li
Yun and Puddle, who have crossed half of the Nine Provinces.
Puddle says, “Our most senior brother sent me to tell you that he
went to greet the lord of Mingming Valley first. This is still their
territory, so we should pay respect once we’re here.”
Li Yun nods. As he seems about to ask something, there is a soft
buzzing sound. He looks up and sees that the glittering Golden
Thread Cicada has returned and landed demurely on his shoulder.

“Golden Thread Cicada?” Puddle is surprised. “Can it find that

demonic cultivator so quickly?”

Li Yun raises his hand. The Golden Thread Cicada dispersed into
the air. In front of their eyes, a village half in ruin appears. A youth
dressed in tattered clothes led two cultivators into the village.

As soon as the young cultivator walked into the view of the Golden
Thread Cicada, he seemed to sense something and turned his head.
Then the scene disappears.

Puddle says, “Oh…”

“No problem,” In a contrast to her, Li Yun doesn’t seem to be

surprised. He says, “This person must be someone very strong, who
has formed his primordial spirit. He was hiding his cultivation level for
some reason. Cultivators of that level have very sharp senses. Just
looking at that guy might cause one to be detected. It was likely the
Golden Thread Cicada didn’t dare to open its eyes in the presence of
such a powerful cultivator for this part of the road.”
As soon as he says that, the image appears again. This time, it
shows a cottage, under which there were several bodies. The person
who nearly caught the Golden Thread Cicada was nowhere to be
seen. Another young cultivator kept crying for his disciple uncle for a
long while, then flew a round on his sword. A local youth said
something to that young man, which seemed to convince him to take
the youth along. They then used the talisman for walking fast. The
image follows them for a bit. Then as if encountering something, the
cicada stopped flying after them, and the image disappears.

Li Yun puts the cicada away and says, “It felt danger from that place,
so it dared not continue. Well, let’s wait for our most senior brother to
return, then we’ll go investigating.”

“Wait!” Puddle grasps Li Yun’s shoulder and says, “Second Brother,

let’s replay it. I mean, the beginning. I want to have a look at the
person who appeared in the beginning!”

“What’s there to look at? It was just a second. Hard to see clearly,” Li
Yun doesn’t get it. “Didn’t that boy yell ‘disciple uncle’ or something?
Maybe that person is a senior of his sect? What’s wrong?”
“That blurry profile,” Puddle says, “He looks a bit like Third Brother to
me.”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 52

Thanks to MrMissMrsRandom and InkSplatterM as usual!

*******
Li Yun is startled to hear that. His smile immediately fades away, as
he asks, “What? You can still remember your Third Brother?”

“Of course I do,” Puddle is piqued. “I remember not just what he was
like in later years, but also when I was even smaller. Third Brother
was the nicest to me. Also, even if I couldn’t remember him clearly,
our most senior brother has been drawing his portrait for nearly one
hundred years. How can I not recognise him?”

Fuyao Sect has the tradition of preserving the portraits of their

disciples throughout generations in the Nine-Floor Library Tower.
Even if they can’t go home in the present, Yan Zhengming wished to
make a portrait for Cheng Qian. Unfortunately, he keeps making
corrections time and time again, and thus not a single portrait has
been completed even now.

Li Yun laughs. “You’re so heartless. Weren’t we nice to you too?”

As he says that, he follows Puddle’s gaze. However, the image of
that person only appears in a flash, so he can’t see anything.

“Your third brother was good-looking from a young age, and good-
looking people all slightly resemble each other when we look
closely,” Pausing a little, Li Yun reminds his sister. “Ah, don’t mention
this to our most senior brother, or he’ll throw a tantrum again.”
Distractedly replying to him with a yes, Puddle shamelessly thinks,
That brother is so handsome. I must go and make friends with him
later.

As soon as she thinks that, she suddenly feels impatient. Spreading

her wings and floating in the air, she complains. “Why isn’t our most
senior brother back yet? Does he plan to marry someone from
Mingming Valley and live there?”

Born with the eyes that can see for thousands of miles, Puddle can
see everything from far away without using her spiritual energy. She
glances aimlessly in all directions, and suddenly sees a ray of frost-
like sword energy shoot up into the air in the distance. As her eyes
follow that sword energy, she finally realises that the area is covered
with a cloud of bloody energy that isn’t easy to detect.

Whoever that sword energy is from, it charges relentlessly at the

bloody energy like the sea tide, carrying a frosty aura. The bloody
energy is swept away like fallen leaves in a strong wind. Then a thick
cloud of black fog flies up and disappears in a blink of an eye.
Puddle stares dazedly at that scene.

Her memory that isn’t blurred by the heartless dust of time

immediately crashes over her. Back then, in a small building on an
island in late autumn, a youth in his whims smiled and told her.
“Baby sister, let me show you what Sea Tide Sword is like.”

What she is seeing is...

Puddle’s heart beats wildly.

Spreading her wings, she ignores Li Yun, who is shouting at her on

the ground, and flies like an arrow towards that ray of sword energy.
In that corner, Cheng Qian has been looking at the black shade from
the corpse. He once before saw with his own eyes the great
practitioner of the ghost path Jiang Peng. Furthermore, he has a
long standing friendship with Tang Zhen, who was a demonic shade
running away from a Soul Consuming Lamp. Therefore, Cheng Qian
is very familiar with the thick evil aura of the Soul Consuming Lamp.
As soon as that shade appeared, he could sense that aura.
At the same time, he feels doubtful. Usually, demonic shades are
formed from complete souls or primordial spirits. They don’t look like
a rag used for cleaning like this.

That rag-like shade runs for about ten miles and enters a mountain
cave.
Before Cheng Qian gets in, he can smell the thick odour of blood in
the cave. He doesn’t recklessly charge in, but sends out a piece of
his awareness. As he has already formed his primordial mind, the
released awareness will show him everything within miles.

However, it is as if this cave is filled with thick fog. Cheng Qian can’t
see clearly what is inside. As he carefully circles around the opening
of the cave, he hears the sound of someone talking from afar. In his
usual loud voice, Nian Dada asks, “My young friend, that corpse was
around here at that time?”

A slightly younger voice replies, “Yes, everyone in my village saw the

white shade here.”

Cheng Qian frowns and hides himself, watching those two walk
towards the opening of the cave. Having met Liu Lang a couple of
times, Cheng Qian’s impression of him is that of a youth who wears
his heart on his sleeve. However, at this moment, the Liu Lang that is
leading Nian Dada into the cave has a blank, lifeless face. Upon
closer look, it can be seen that his gaze is clouded, as if there is grey
fog in his eyes, which gets thicker the closer they are to the opening
of the cave.

Seeing that this dumbass Nian Dada, who has eyes but isn’t aware
of anything, doesn’t suspect anything unusual and trustingly follows
Liu Lang into the cave, Cheng Qian doesn’t hesitate anymore. He
immediately withdraws all of his aura and follows them. His body is
formed from the Spirit Collection Jade, so it’s much easier for him to
hide his energy than if he had a normal flesh and blood body, which
is convenient for him to pretend to be dead.

Nian Dada talks as he walks. “Don’t say anything. It seems like

someone died here. There is the stench of blood.”
Hearing that, Cheng Qian feels that there is no help for that boy.
Great observation, indeed.

Liu Lang doesn’t reply, staring fixedly at the path ahead. Then he
stops walking for a long while.

Nian Dada asks, “My friend?”

No reply comes either. Nian Dada finally gets scared and has to call
out loud, as if to increase his courage. “Disciple uncle! Are you in
there? U-”
He falls silent, his eyes widening like his tongue had been pulled out.
The narrow path ahead has come to the end. Liu Lang, who has
been showing the way in the front, suddenly falls down, as what is
inside the cave is revealed.

There is a lamp-shaped object that is taller than an adult. It has wide

opening and long neck. The part below the neck is full of spell
carvings, which goes into the ground. The blood-coloured spells
spread to a wide area around it.
There is nothing to fear about the spells. Even if they were truly to be
feared, with Nian Dada’s poor skills, he can’t recognise what they do
anyway. What scares him the most is that inside the lamp isn’t oil,
but blood. There is no wind, but the blood stirs by itself. Countless
bones float on the surface, the whole cave is full of the deathly
odour.
Cheng Qian, who has been quietly following behind, frowns. With
just a glance, he can recognise that it is a Soul-Consuming Lamp.

Furthermore, it seems to be the lamp that was destroyed by Lord

Beiming.
As he looks more closely at the spells below the Soul-Consuming
Lamp, a white shade suddenly emerges from the blood-filled lamp.
Before anyone can react, the shade gets into Liu Lang’s body.

The youth curls on the ground in an unusual manner, then he springs

up and aggressively strangles Nian Dada. As a cultivator who is
already holding his sword in hand, Nian Dada can defend himself.
However, seeing Liu Lang’s young face, his heart softens and thinks,
“This is a mortal kid. If I strike, how can he stay alive?”

With just a second of hesitation, Nian Dada loses his last chance. In
a blink of the eyes, the demonic energy fully possesses Liu Lang.
The smooth skin and flesh on his face come off in pieces. The bones
in his arms wriggle like a snake, and become of different lengths
under the influence of the intense demonic energy. The distorted
bones protruding from his fingers, ‘Liu Lang’ points at Nian Dada’s
forehead and mutters in a hoarse voice. “Gather the darkness of the
yin, contain the blood energy of one thousand lives, digest ten
thousand of souls, unique in the ghost path…”
Nian Dada’s head hurt like it were hit by a hammer. His entire soul
shaken, he feels as if his body can’t keep the soul inside anymore,
and his soul is about to fly out from his forehead.
A cold smile breaks out on the face of ‘Liu Lang’. “Soul lamp… Who
is there?!”

A ray of sword flash bright as snow charges at ‘Liu Lang’ without

holding back. As the soul collecting spell is interrupted, ‘Liu Lang’
nearly suffers backlash from the Soul-Consuming Lamp. He has no
other choice but to leave Nian Dada behind, and growls fiercely.

From a corner, Cheng Qian walks out with the sword in hand. His
eyes still glancing at the spells below the Soul-Consuming Lamp, he
casually says, “What’s the matter, Senior Jiang? Back then, Lord
Beiming used one of his souls to destroy the Soul-Consuming Lamp,
but you weren’t finished? Looks like the ghost path indeed has a
special relationship with soul business. You… Oh, are you trying to
restore the Soul-Consuming Lamp?”
As soon as he sees the Soul-Consuming Lamp, Cheng Qian is
reminded of Jiang Peng first and foremost. As soon as the one in
front of him speaks, the impression gets even stronger. It’s just that
there is no way for him to verify.

The spells on the ground are incredibly complicated. Even Cheng

Qian can’t understand all of them immediately. Therefore, pretending
to know it beforehand, he intentionally drawls his voice and says his
wild guess in order to buy time, so that he can take note of the spells
on the ground.

Unexpectedly, the face of ‘Liu Lang’ contorts. With a growl, he

charges at Cheng Qian. As if Cheng Qian just uncovered a secret
and he wants to kill the witness.
Cheng Qian turns his body and avoids several rays of black energy.
He can’t help feeling startled. This is really Jiang Peng? He is really
forging the Soul-Consuming Lamp?

Although Jiang Peng is a highly powerful demonic cultivator, he is

using the body of a mortal. Furthermore, he doesn’t have his Soul-
Consuming Lamp and the demonic shades at hand. With Cheng
Qian’s current cultivation level, he is not a challenge, especially as
this Jiang Peng has lost his mind and is behaving like a rabid dog.

The one currently in front of Cheng Qian is a total contrast to the

powerful demonic cultivator who embarrassed countless sects in
Eastern Sea back then. Pretending to be an evil ghost causing
troubles to lure out the cultivators from the surrounding area. Can he
really think of such a ploy?

A chill runs through Cheng Qian’s spine. In the end, what is really
the ghost path?

Is it the cultivator that uses the Soul-Consuming Lamp? Or does the

Soul-Consuming Lamp turn the cultivator into an evil ghost?

Back then, who lured Jiang Peng into the ghost path?
Cheng Qian stops suppressing his cultivation level. Using himself as
the centre, the frost gradually fills up the cave, but it can’t reach the
Soul-Consuming Lamp.

Struck by the frost, Jiang Peng unexpectedly regains some of his

intelligence. He steps backward and looks at Cheng Qian warily.
“Who are you?”

Cheng Qian coldly replies. “Executioner from your sect.”

As soon as he says it, his sword flash charges at Jiang Peng like a
shooting star of ice in a move from Fuyao Wooden Sword. Surprise
passes by Jiang Peng’s face. He sticks his hand into Liu Lang’s body
and takes out a rib. The bloody rib in his hand turns into a long
sword steeped in black energy. As that sword moves in the air, ten
incomplete demonic shades, which look strong on the outside but
are weak inside, surround Cheng Qian.

As Nian Dada, who just had a break, sees this scene, he really
passes out again. Using his voice that has been distorted by the
strangling, he yells, “Careful!”

After a hundred years of cultivation, the first person Cheng Qian

points his sword at is the disciple uncle from his own sect.
What kind of Fate is this?

The ordinary sword in Cheng Qian’s hand becomes unstoppable. It

disregards the demonic shades and boldly charges directly at Jiang
Peng.

An insurmountable pressure from the sword move of his own sect

attacks Jiang Peng from the air. In a split second, this powerful
demonic cultivator finally loses his focus. As soon as this slightest
distraction happens, an opening appears in the seemingly
unbreakable ring of spells surrounding the Soul-Consuming Lamp.
The red spells are struck by a ray of frost. As it turns out, Cheng
Qian only wants to distract Jiang Peng. His real target is the Soul-
Consuming Lamp.

He shouts in a low voice. “Break it.”

The cave seems about to collapse. The half-formed Soul-Consuming

Lamp is broken into two under Cheng Qian’s sword. The thousands
of souls imprisoned in the lamp rush to escape, forming a black
cloud. He uses his sword will to gather the thick blood energy, which
flows like a storm and explodes.

The explosion nearly knocks Nian Dada out. It takes a while for him
to regain his consciousness. A corner of the cave has collapsed,
giving way to the sunlight to pour inside. Fortunately, the mountain is
still standing, so they aren’t buried alive. The Soul-Consuming Lamp
has been destroyed again. The Elder of the Dark Lake has sheathed
his sword, and is looking at Liu Lang, who is now a bloody body on
the ground, with an expressionless face.

Nian Dada crawls to where Cheng Qian is standing. “Disciple

uncle… this…”

“The perpetrator has run away,” Cheng Qian says. He opens his
palm to Nian Dada and asks, “Do you have any cultivational
medicine for injuries?”

“Yes, yes!” Nian Dada hastily searches his own body and pulls out a
small medicine vial. As he is about to feed the medicine to a dying
Liu Lang, Cheng Qian stops him. As the pill falls into Cheng Qian’s
palm, it turns into a small sphere of fog and pours into Liu Lang’s
body.

The medicine of Shuzhong is very effective. Liu Lang’s eyes, which

already dilate, focus once again. The youth’s face has become full of
holes, his two arms of uneven length lying by his body. A rib is
missing on his chest, leaving behind a bloody hole. He makes a
frightening sight.

Nian Dada can’t resist asking. “Disciple uncle, can he live?”

Cheng Qian looks at the dying youth. Liu Lang uses his disfigured
hands to grasp the ground. His eyes open widely, displaying a fierce
desire to live.

Cheng Qian says, “The question is if he wants to live like this.”

Before Nian Dada understands what he means, Cheng Qian raises

his hand and creates three rays of cold energy. Like three nails, they
ruthlessly pierce Liu Lang’s three acupoints of Bai Hui, Dan Tian,
and Yu Zu1. Liu Lang’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. His
body thrashes wildly, leaving a long trace of blood on the ground.

“For a mortal, his soul dissipates as soon as the body dies, so I nail
his soul to this body. If he still lives after four hours, take him to
Mingming Valley and ask your esteemed father to entrust him to
Tang Zhen Zhenren,” Cheng Qian says, “If he can’t survive that
period, then I have no other way. I have some business to attend to,
so I can’t take you along. If Fate wills it, then we’ll meet again.”

Having said that, he turns into a gust of smoke and impatiently flies
away.

Nian Dada cries, “Oh, disciple uncle! Wait for me!”

He wants to chase after Cheng Qian, but doesn’t have the heart to
abandon Liu Lang, who has passed out. Having no other choice, he
has to circle the spot like a donkey churning a grinder. Suddenly, a
sphere of fire drops into the cave like a shooting star, and turns into
a person as it lands. Nian Dada fearfully steps back. As he sees that
the newcomer is a beautiful young lady, he greets with some
embarrassment. “M- miss, what…”

That is Puddle. She sweeps her gaze around the place, then
stomping her feet, she asks, “Where is he?”

Nian Dada stammers. “Wh- who?”

Stepping forward, Puddle grasps Nian Dada’s robe and lifts him up
in the air with an immense strength. She asks with a voice like
cannonball. “The person who fought with a sword here, where is
he?”

Nian Dada’s face reddens. He speaks with difficulty. “He is gone.”

“Where?”
With a pitiful face, Nian Dada struggles to save his own neck. “Miss,
I don’t know. He is an elder of my sect. He doesn’t need to report to
me where he goes.”

Puddle throws him on to the ground and turns to leave. After a

moment of thought, she returns and asks forcefully, “What sect are
you from? What kind of elder is he to you?”

Nian Dada coughs for a bit, but still replies good-naturedly. “There is
only Mingming Valley around here. That is my sect’s Elder of the
Dark Lake. He was in seclusion for fifty years and just left recently.
This is the first time he travels outside the valley. Miss, you must be
making a mistake...”
Puddle interrupts him. “What is his name?”

Seeing how stubborn she is, Nian Dada sighs, but he still replies
truthfully. “Cheng…”

Before he can say the rest of the name, Puddle already turns into a
sphere of fire and chases after Cheng Qian without looking back.
Fifty years of seclusion. Newly leaving the valley. If that’s really her
Third Brother, where will he go? Puddle can’t think of any other place
besides Fuyao Mountain.
She cries as she embarks on her pursuit. In truth, she doesn’t know
herself why she is crying, but the tears keep falling out. As the tears
fall from her face, they meet her fire and vapourise.

Puddle swings between wishing to tell her most senior brother,

second brother, and Zhe Shi-dage, and hesitating to say anything,
afraid that this is just a hopeless daydream.

She didn’t even dare to hear the whole name of that person from that
dumb kid.
In the past hundred years, her Third Brother has become a trigger of
her sect leader and senior brother. He doesn’t allow anyone to
mention Cheng Qian. Even the slightest allusion may cause him to
lose his temper.

However, while he doesn’t allow anyone to talk about that person, he

himself made that coin ring with the illusion, which he regularly
releases to torment himself. Furthermore, he keeps drawing Cheng
Qian’s portrait time after time. Every time he finishes one, he would
stare dazedly at the image, then destroy it with a flick of his hand.

Puddle knows why he does that: he doesn’t want the person in the
portrait to be stuck in his adolescence, but he can’t do anything
about it.

“Can the dead come back to life?” She asks herself. “It can’t be.
Even for a cultivator who has formed a primordial mind, the
reincarnation isn’t the same person. Not to mention Third Brother
was barely seventeen years old back then, a far cry from having a
primordial mind.”

Puddle feels nearly convinced by herself. However, her wings don’t

obey her head. They keep taking her without hesitation to Fuyao
Mountain.

Her speculation is on the mark. Cheng Qian’s destination is indeed

Fuyao Meeting. Encountering Jiang Peng again reminds him of the
mystery that is the events of the previous generation in Fuyao
Mountain. Instinct tells him that uncovering that history will be the
key to restore his sect.

Why can’t Fuyao Mountain become a second Mingming Valley?

On the way, Cheng Qian tries to prepare himself for the worst case
scenarios. Did Fuyao Mountain become lost to the wilderness? Was
their Nine-Floor Library Tower, which stores countless sophisticated
arrays and rare spells, stolen by someone?

However, he totally didn’t expect that those scenarios didn’t come to

pass, but he can’t find the way back to Fuyao Mountain.

Back then, when Muchun Zhenren took Cheng Qian back to Fuyao
Sect, he was taken by the hand by his master. Cheng Qian feels that
he can always find the way back to Fuyao Mountain. However, riding
his sword for a day and a night, he keeps searching several times
based on his memory in vain. He finally has to admit that, for some
reason, Fuyao Mountain has disappeared.

*******
1. Bai Hui, Dan Tian, and Yu Zu: Top of the head, the bellybutton,
and the feet.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 53

Thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for editing and InkSplatterM for English

help!

*******
While Cheng Qian runs aimlessly around looking for Fuyao
Mountain, Puddle has arrived nearby. She helplessly looks at the
thick forest on the mountain and the vast plain, not knowing where to
start looking, something itchy is rubbing at her sleeve.

Puddle looks down. A leaf is stuck on the wrist of her sleeve for
some unknown time. Then that leaf turns into a hairy caterpillar with
green and yellow stripes.

The girl part of Puddle is disgusted, but her bird part wants to eat the
caterpillar. While she is torn between the contradictory sentiments,
the hairy caterpillar raises its head and speaks in Li Yun’s voice,
“Where have you gone?”

...Her Second Brother just keeps getting more and more ridiculous.
As Puddle has been crying and chasing after Cheng Qian, her mind
is full of fog. She answers without thinking, “I’m near Fuyao
Mountain.”

As soon as she says that, she wants to bite the tip of her tongue off.
Shit, how could I let it slip like that? How am I going to explain to
them?
As expected, the aura around the caterpillar changes when it hears
her answer. Its jelly-like body “stands” up. Although it can’t straighten
itself all the way, it still looks pretty menacing.

The person on the other end becomes her most senior brother. Yan
Zhengming asks, “Why do you want to go back to Fuyao Mountain?
It is still sealed off.”

Long story short, during one hundred years, they tried to sneak back
home a couple of times. However, besides a few suspicious-looking
figures in the surrounding villages, they simply couldn’t find Fuyao
Mountain where it should have been.

When Yan Zhengming managed to form his primordial spirit, he

discovered that only a primordial spirit could enter the sect leader
seal, and the sect leader seal was a key.

As it turns out, it’s no coincidence that Fuyao Mountain is connected

to the Valley of the Yao. The entire mountain is a natural mystic site.
If the sect leader in charge seals off the mountain and brings the
seal with him, no one can enter the mountain on their own. That
explains why a small sect with limited power, who didn’t even have
guards on the way in, could survive in peace in a corner for such a
long time.

Hearing his question, Puddle can’t find the answer. After an awkward
moment, she stammers. “I- I- I suddenly got homesick, so I came
back to visit.”

Unfortunately, her sect leader and senior brother isn’t that easy to
fool. Yan Zhengming says, “Homesick? Stop talking nonsense.
When we left Fuyao Mountain, you were still chewing on your diaper
in my carriage. Can you really remember anything? Tell the truth.”

Puddle: “…”
From her childhood, she doesn’t know how to lie. Her disciple
brothers are all much older than her. In general, they spoil her a lot.
Besides the assignments that she has to do, they will get her
everything she wants. Even if she does something wrong, she isn’t
punished harshly.

However, she chases after Cheng Qian based on a faintest hope

that she can’t give up. If she tells the truth, what would it achieve
besides giving her disciple brothers the same stubborn hope, only to
make them all disappointed later?

Puddle grits her teeth and decides to make something up to get by.
Thinking so hard it makes her sweat, she stammers. “W- When we
were waiting for you, I flew up and saw a cloud of blood energy in a
village from afar. I thought that was the demonic cultivator we were
looking for this time, so I chased after that one. Second Brother was
there too, but I was too impatient to tell him. And, uhm, I follow it all
the way to Fuyao Mountain. Most senior brother, do you think that
is… Fourth Brother?”

As she lies, her heart beats like mad, making her words rather
dispirited.

That hairy caterpillar gives no reaction for a long while. Then Yan
Zhengming says conversationally, “Your Second Brother says, it was
too far away, he couldn’t sense the bloody energy.”

It was already bad enough that she couldn’t lie smoothly; she is
sabotaged too!

In the end, Puddle risks everything and says, “Fine, I’ll tell the truth.
You’re so annoying! Through Second Brother’s Golden Thread
Cicada, I saw a very handsome guy, so I followed him.”
Yan Zhengming: “Hmm?”
With a spark of inspiration, Puddle adds, “It’s true! That brother is
much more handsome than you!”

Those words accurately hit the fatal weak point of her sect leader
and most senior brother. As expected, Yan Zhengming doesn’t
bother to talk to her anymore. The hairy caterpillar slumps down like
a piece of jelly. Li Yun hastily says, “Stop causing trouble. Come
back, quick!”

Afterwards, as if it has used up its energy, the caterpillar turns back

to a leaf, then curls up and falls off her body.

Seeing that she has escaped, Puddle breathes out in relief. She
turns into a fist-size bird and flies into the forest, focusing on
searching for Cheng Qian.

At that moment in Shuzhong, Yan Zhengming says to Li Yun, “When

I arrived here, there was some bloody energy, but it’s gone now.
Most likely someone from Mingming Valley has dealt with it. That
brat Puddle is very shameless. No way I’d believe that she would
stammer like that just because she saw some boy. Something must
have happened. Let’s follow her before she makes a mess.”

Those words sound convincing enough to Li Yun. However, right

after that, Yan Zhengming annoyedly says, “She dared say ‘much
more handsome than I’. Such an ungrateful brat! She has no taste at
all. Hphm, I really want to have a look at whoever that is.”
Li Yun sighs. Their little sister’s petty tricks really hurt more than
help. With just a line, she ensured that their most senior brother
would come.
On the other side, Cheng Qian can’t find Fuyao Mountain. He has to
hide his sword and withdraws his frost-like spiritual energy, then
pretends to be a mortal and walks into a nearby village.
Things have really gone from bad to worse in the world outside.
Cheng Qian still remembers back then, when their Master took them
travelling to Eastern Sea, the villages and towns along the way were
much more prosperous.

He randomly chooses an inn and calls for a pot of tea. Putting the
steaming tea aside, he calls for the waiter and asks, “My friend, I’d
like to ask about a place.”

Seeing that he is both handsome and well-dressed, the waiter

naturally wants to be in his good graces. He bows and says, “Please
feel free to ask me anything.”
Cheng Qian says, “I heard that there is a mountain where immortals
live about thirty miles away from here, so I’d like to visit it. But I can’t
find it anywhere, so I’d like to ask you locals for direction.”

Hearing that, the waiter’s face becomes more solemn. He looks at

Cheng Qian closely from head to toe, then asks with some
reservation, “Are you one of those cultivating immortals?”

“Nah,” Cheng Qian smiles. “I’ve only done some energy cultivation at
home. Even now I can’t manage to enter the Way yet. How dare I
claim to be a cultivator? From what you said, are there many people
asking about that mountain?”
Putting the towel on his shoulder, the waiter laughs. “Indeed,
someone asked me about it just two days ago. To tell the truth, I’m a
local here. There has been some legend about that mountain of the
immortals from the time of my grandfather’s, but no one has seen it
yet. How can our mortal eyes see the place the immortals live?”
Cheng Qian says, “From what you said, it seems many immortals
have come here too. Couldn’t they find that mountain too?”
The waiter smiled. “If they could find it, it wouldn’t be a legend, would
it? The scenery there is pretty decent though. If you wish to, a walk
in the area may be good for you.”

Having said that, the waiter moves to leave. Cheng Qian hastily calls
him back. “Wait, my friend, you said two days ago someone asked
about the mountain too. Where did that person go? If I’m fast enough
to catch up with them, maybe I can find a companion.”

The waiter says, “I saw them on the main road. But, young master,
they looked pretty aggressive. I don’t think you should get involved
with them.”
Cheng Qian is startled to hear that. A group of people… who want
something from Fuyao Mountain. What exactly are they up to?

Not bothering to wait for the tea to cool, he stands up and leaves.
Cheng Qian has travelled on this road only once before, that year
when they left Fuyao Mountain.

Because the carriages that were like a wedding procession of his

most senior brother couldn’t run on smaller trails, they had to take
their time on the main road. Back then, forget riding the sword, he
couldn’t even ride a horse. He also obsessively wished to focus on
improving his energy base, forcing his Master to keep an eye on him
the entire way.
Cheng Qian turns into a cloud of frost and quietly surfs over the main
road, feeling that every tree, every blade of grass there is full of
memories.
After he crossed about twenty miles, he suddenly stops and
withdraws his leg, which has been preparing to make a step. On a
narrow path, there are two rocks opposite each other, which seems
to have been intentionally set up by someone. There are spells on
the rocks, which can be easily missed.

These two spells, which stand opposite each other, form a net that
cross the main road. If someone walks by, the creator will be alerted.

Frowning, Cheng Qian concentrates spiritual energy in his eyes and

looks. Someone has set up a complex web of spells within spells
here. The rocks by the wayside, the ground, even the uneven
branches between the thick shades of the trees, traps wait at every
step.
As he glances at all directions, a fire erupts in his heart. Who dares
to do mischief around Fuyao Mountain?

Nevertheless, Cheng Qian doesn’t recklessly release his awareness,

despite his anger. He cautiously walks around the spells. The more
he sees of them, the more on edge he is. Although he hasn’t
released his awareness, he can sense that the creator of the spells
isn’t weak. Furthermore, the connecting points of those spells give
off some bloody scent, which shows that this person doesn’t follow
the proper path in his energy cultivation.

In general, cultivators aren’t forbidden to kill. However, they don’t kill

randomly, nor do they like killing. Even if they have blood on their
hands, they won’t leave behind bloody energy. It’s different for
demonic cultivators. Back then, when Cheng Qian began his
cultivation career, he ignorantly read on the three thousand paths of
demonic cultivation in the Nine-Floor Library Tower. He thought that
those paths weren’t different from the righteous path, and even
asked his Master about the topic. It isn’t until now that he finally
understands that, despite some similarities at first glances, the two
sides are different as day and night.
Practitioners of the righteous path begin their cultivation journey by
connecting with heaven and earth. They focus on exchanging pure
energy with nature to build their energy base. The nature of the
demonic path is to conquer everything, all take and no give. There is
no discrimination between the pure and the polluted. Although it
helps the practitioner become powerful very quickly, in the long run,
the impure energy will build up. Even if the practitioner never sheds
blood, the spells created by them will have a bit of bloody energy.
Once a demonic cultivator breaks the discipline and sheds blood,
there is no way to take it back. No one can help them either.
Therefore, from ancient times, very, very few demonic cultivators
ever reach the highest level.

The one that takes this path must have the willingness to go to the
very end, which even death can’t shake.

Even Cheng Qian has to work hard to cross this dangerous web of
spells. However, he doesn’t see ‘the group’ the waiter mentioned. As
Cheng Qian carefully crosses the traps and sneaks into the array, he
sees a tall man standing with his back to him in a clearing.

That man emanates a sphere of strong awareness, which is full of a

defiant pride that acknowledges nothing but himself. Because of that
sphere, the place is covered with bloody energy. Because he doesn’t
yet know what this man is like, Cheng Qian hides behind a great tree
and again withdraws all of his living aura, turning himself to a dead
object.

The man, who is turning his back to Cheng Qian, seems to be

creating an array. As he is halfway through, something strange
happens.

Tensing up like he were encountering many enemies, he mutters in a

low voice like monologuing. Then, he seems to be angry with the
void and slams his hand on the ground, shouting like going mad,
“You dare!”
Having shouted that, the man acts a bit like a marionette whose
strings are pulled. He stiffens for a second and stops struggling.
Giving out a low laugh that sounds like an owl, he replies to himself,
“Why dare I not, you useless trash?”

Cheng Qian frowns. Nian Dada asked and replied to himself too, but
it just looked funny. When this demonic cultivator does that, it gives
one the creeps.

Right after that, the man roars, opens his palm, and hits himself in
the chest. The hit makes a sound like thunder, showing that he
doesn’t hold back at all. A cloud of black energy rises from his chest
and attacks his palm. Whether the hit from the palm hurts the chest,
or the black energy injures the palm, it is still an act of serious self-
harm.

That man stumbles and spits out a mouthful of blood.

Cheng Qian thinks, What’s wrong with him?

At that moment, a fearful scream comes from a nearby spot. Around
the periphery of the spells created by this demonic cultivator,
fireworks erupts. Within seconds, countless bony claws rise from the
ground and turn into cold chains. The chains go through the air and
wrap around their target, brutally dragging the person down to the
ground.

This unlucky sod is none other than Puddle.

She didn’t expect Cheng Qian to mix in with the mortals, so she
searched for him in the nearby forest for a long time in her bird form.
As time went on, her disappointment mounting, she became tired
both physically and mentally. That is how she carelessly fell into the
palm of this demonic cultivator.

Being suddenly captured, she turns to human form, wishing to fight

back. However, she realises her cultivation has been suppressed by
the demonic energy.

Fallen into a heap on the ground, Puddle wants to scream out

insults, but she manages to hold it in and avoid pissing off her
enemy. Knowing that she is carrying various protective artifacts her
disciple brothers pressed on her, she keeps silent and curls up to
pretend to be dead on the ground, as she concentrates on
preventing the demonic energy from getting in her body.

Puddle is completely right. As the chains bind her tightly, a ribbon in

her hair immediately breaks. It contains a puppet charm made by
Yan Zhengming. That same charm has saved her from being
stabbed through by the chains.

A puppet charm made by a cultivator who has formed the primordial

mind is a totally different league from the amateurish work Cheng
Qian gifted Xue Qing back then. Yan Zhengming and Li Yun have
already been closeby. As soon as the charm breaks, Yan Zhengming
immediately concentrates to locate her, and rushes with Li Yun to
where she is.

Cheng Qian, who is hiding nearby, doesn’t recognise Puddle at all.

Her appearance has completely changed, as she grew from a small
child to a young lady. Furthermore, she is keeping her wings hidden.

Not knowing her identity, Cheng Qian doesn’t emerge from his hiding
place, but keeps watching how the incident unfolds.
At this moment, Puddle suddenly feels the chains on her body
loosen. The demonic cultivator calls out agitatedly. “Young lady, go!
Quickly!”

Puddle is surprised. Before she can be happy, however, the chains

tighten again. The demonic cultivator changes his tone and says
coolly, “Just a little century-old yao… Fuck!”

That demonic cultivator stretches out his left arm and curls his
fingers, about to pull at the chains. However, his right hand grasps
the left wrist, as if to stop himself. The first voice shouts, “Stop
pretending to be dead! Run! Quickly! I can’t stop this for long!”

This is the first time Puddle encounters a demonic cultivator who

acts incomprehensibly like this. Out of curiosity, she can’t resist a
peek at him.

As soon as she looks up, she forgets to run.

She confusedly calls out. “Fourth Brother?”

That demonic cultivator has blood-shot eyes. His features are
distorted by the aggressive expression. However, she can still
immediately recognise him. That person is Han Yuan, whom they
roam the Nine Provinces to search for in vain.
Han Yuan seems stunned by her words. His face softens, as his
gaze lingers on Puddle’s face. He looks incredulous, panicking, and
ready to bolt at the same time. It takes a while for him to ask softly,
his lips quivering, “You, can’t it be that you’re… little… Argh!”

Before he finishes, the demonic energy on his body surges,

seemingly turning him into a cloud of black fog.

The chilly voice as if from the underworld speaks again, “Oh, you’re
Han Tan. My effort isn’t wasted then!”
As soon as he hears ‘Han Tan’, Cheng Qian’s pupils constrict, and
he doesn’t think about anything else. Before he even fully comes out,
his frost-like sword flash already cuts off the chains that bind Puddle.
At the same time, there is a long whistling sound. The ground
shakes, as Han Yuan’s spells on the periphery are destroyed by a
brutal sword energy.
Right after that, a shadow charges in like an arrow. That sword
energy aims at Han Yuan like a falling mountain.

Puddle yells. “Don’t! Fourth Brother…”

Everything is happening so fast that Cheng Qian can’t even think

about sect etiquette. In the chaos, he instinctively protects Han Yuan
and blocks the incoming attack.

“Waning Moon of Decline from the Peak” meets “Rising Cloud of The
Roc Crosses Ten Thousand Miles”.

There is a chip on the blade of the newcomer, which causes the two
swords to entangle with each other.

At that moment, everyone is stunned on the spot.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 54

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for working overtime with the edits.

*******

With a clang, Yan Zhengming’s sword slips from his hand and falls
onto the ground. He, a sword cultivator, isn’t even aware of how his
own sword collides with his feet.

In the light of the setting sun, the person in front of him seems to be
created by the demon of his heart. Every detail from the drawings
made during cold nights comes to life, stealing one’s breath away.
With one look, Yan Zhengming forgets everything else around him.

Maybe some other people, even if knowing that person has been
lost, still lie to themselves and hold the hope of “reunion in another
life”. However, Yan Zhengming isn’t like that. Back then, he buried
Cheng Qian himself, in order to destroy any remaining delusion in
his heart.

He always feels that he is already weak enough. There is no need to

add to that.

Yan Zhengming can’t tell if this is reality or just a dream. He only

feels as if he is returning to that day. Looking at the face that has
been carved into his heart, together with a Han Yuan shrouded in
black energy nearby, he feels as if he has returned to that wild island
in the Eastern Sea, to the day he doesn’t want to look back at the
most.
Yan Zhengming suddenly reaches out and grasps Cheng Qian’s
shoulder. Not heeding the sword in the hand of the other person, he
pulls Cheng Qian from the front to behind his back, pushing through
all of his long-standing regrets, like he has been practicing that act
countless times in his dream.

Of course Cheng Qian didn’t expect that the person who fought him
was his sect leader and senior brother. He runs into Yan Zhengming
all of a sudden even before he could get cold feet. As he stares
dazedly, he awkwardly withdraws the shiny ‘travel expense’ sword, in
order to avoid injuring his senior brother just as they meet again.
Being grabbed by Yan Zhengming, he stumbles a few steps before
regaining his balance.

As the Fuyao Mountain is hidden in the mystic site, the sect’s

disciples, who are very close by, are shaken, or at a loss, or
struggling, or crying.
Who could expect that, after a hundred years, the Fuyao disciples
would reunite like this?

Being stuck between madness and calmness, Yan Zhengming

resolutely suppresses all of his jumbled thoughts. Not looking back
at Cheng Qian, he tells Han Yuan, who has changed to the point of
being nearly unrecognisable, “You’re already here, so stay.”

Then, not sparing a glance at the chipped sword on the ground, he

directs his spiritual energy to charge at Han Yuan like a blade.
Numerous swords are formed in the air, casting heaven and earth in
a white glare.
That demonic cultivator seems to have taken full control of Han
Yuan’s body. He opens his mouth and lets out a cloud of dark fog.
The dark fog turns into an eagle with a demon’s face. The eagle
screeches and opens its wings, covering all of Han Yuan inside.
As the pressure from the sword wind increases, the human and the
eagle seem to realise that there is no gain to be had from the day.
Using whatever improper technique, they turn into fog and disappear
on the spot.

All that is left is a figure made from white paper, the heart of which is
pierced by an arrow, lying on the ground.

Han Yuan… That demonic cultivator has escaped, as the situation

didn’t look good for him.

Yan Zhengming stands dazedly where he is, seemingly unable to

gather enough courage to turn his head and look back. After a long
while, he takes several deep breaths, then turns slowly like his body
had turned into dust, and stares at Cheng Qian without blinking.

In this life, whether dead or alive, Cheng Qian has never avoided or
run away from anything. However, in this moment of reunion after a
long separation, his most senior brother’s gaze makes him want to
hide.

Li Yun dazedly looks back and forth. It takes a while for him to speak
like from a dream. “Xiao… Xiao-Qian? Wh- What is going on?”

Puddle swallows her tears and speaks brokenly. “Third Brother, I

saw your sword move in Shuzhong, but when I arrived, you were
already gone. I- I guessed, if that was indeed you, you would
definitely return… But I wasn’t sure if I got it right, so I dared not tell
other senior brothers…”
She hangs her head and uses the arm that is still wrapped in chains
to wipe her tears, causing the chains to rattle. Choked by her tears,
she is at a loss for words for a while, before speaking like a hurt
child, “W- Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Cheng Qian’s heart, which seemed unable to be shaken by anything

during the decades in the ice lake, is squeezed tightly. He can’t find
the words to reply.

Yan Zhengming slowly raises his hand and lifts Cheng Qian’s chin.
He feels cold to the touch, as if his body temperature is lower than
that of a normal person’s. The sword Shuang Ren, which Yan
Zhengming always carries with him, seems to sense something too.
It gives off an anxious buzzing sound and shakes slightly. Yan
Zhengming’s heart shakes as if there were an earthquake in it. He
wishes to ask where Cheng Qian has been all these years, if the
wound on his chest is still there, why he comes here, if he has been
suffering hardships… He chokes on thousands, millions of words, his
head becomes completely empty.
He doesn’t know how to start, because compared to the feelings in
his heart, anything he says would feel shallow.

In the end, all those words tangle together and become a desperate
plea. Yan Zhengming thinks, Is it real this time?

Cheng Qian slightly lowers his eyes to avoid Yan Zhengming’s gaze.
He calls softly. “Senior Brother.”
“Hmm,” Yan Zhengming mumbles in reply. “You still...”

His voice is so weak, that he can’t continue after just a couple of

words. The rest of the line is stuck in his throat; only his lips move.
“You still remember me?”
Cheng Qian gently takes Yan Zhengming’s hand off, suddenly
feeling hard to breathe.

The corners of Yan Zhengming’s eyes redden. “All these years, why
didn’t you look for us?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t say anything.

Yan Zhengming suddenly withdraws his hand from Cheng Qian, and
punches him in the stomach without holding back. Cheng Qian
doesn’t avoid it. Taking the hit, he lets out a small cry, as the stench
of blood swells in his mouth. Before he can swallow it down, the
second hit comes. A mouthful of blood stuck in his throat, Cheng
Qian falls down on one knee to the ground and coughs his lungs out.
It isn’t until now that Li Yun, who has been gaping, manages to wake
up from his daydream. He hastily runs forwards and holds Yan
Zhengming back by the waist. “What are you doing?”

That seems to spur Yan Zhengming on even more. He gives Li Yun

an elbow. “Let off!”
Li Yun yells into his ear. “Have you gone mad?!”

With a voice hoarse like rusted blades clashing with each other, Yan
Zhengming shouts. “Fuck you, I’ve been mad for nearly a hundred
years!”

Cheng Qian’s ears are filled with a buzzing sound. There is no way
for him to let it out.

He was in seclusion in the ice lake for more than fifty years.
Furthermore, his memory was taken away by Tang Zhen. When his
disciple brothers and sister wandered in exile, he was idle in his
unknowing, his heart filled with an undisturbed calmness. As he
thinks this, any spark of temper he has cools off, falls down, and
becomes the ash of guilt.

Feeling both guilty and wronged, he has nowhere to grasp onto. His
feelings seem to want to pour out along with the blood that seeps
through his hand.

Cheng Qian suddenly senses that, he probably won’t be entangled

so deeply with anyone else again in his life.

Puddle says loudly, “Have you had enough?!”

She opens her wings and shrugs off the chains on her body. Then
she runs to Cheng Qian and carefully supports him. “Third
Brother…”

Even the little brat that their family considered to be their mascot
back then has grown up like this in the blink of an eye. Except for her
wings that still look familiar, she has totally transformed into a girl
that Cheng Qian doesn’t know.
As she gets close to him, Cheng Qian can’t help feeling a little
awkward. Waving his hand, he moves away from her a little. No word
comes forth from him; only his eyes reveal a faint smile full of
embarrassment and nostalgia.
Yan Zhengming argues with Li Yun until he is exhausted, and finally
manages to calm down. He dazedly stares at Cheng Qian for a long
while. Closing his eyes then exhaling, he walks towards Cheng Qian.
With just these couple of steps, all of the resentment and refusal to
accept that he bears alone throughout the years, which he has no
one to share, suddenly disperses like smoke.

It’s as if he finally wakes up from an endless nightmare.

Yan Zhengming pulls down the hand of Cheng Qian that is hiding his
mouth, and carefully wipes clean the blood on his lips, asking, “Does
it hurt?”

Cheng Qian hesitantly nods.

“You deserve it,” Yan Zhengming leans down and embraces Cheng
Qian, putting his chin on his shoulder. He whispers in a low voice. “If
you dare to leave home for so long again, I’ll kill you. A hundred
years, Cheng Qian, it’s more than a mortal’s life…”

At this point, his hard fought for calmness completely disappears.

Embracing Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming laughs and cries loudly, as
if to express the emotions of everyone present. In that situation, the
rest of them forget their own feelings about the separation, and
watch him worriedly, fearing that, after a sect leader that became a
Lord Beiming and a sect leader that was a weasel, they’ll have a
sect leader that goes mad.

… That would certainly be a good look for their sect.

The drama continues until midnight. Yan Zhengming finally calms

down. As usual, Puddle makes a campfire. In the hot weather, her
disciple brothers all avoid her.
Cheng Qian puts Shuang Ren across his knees and uses the cold
from the sword to help him meditate and recover. Seeing that, Yan
Zhengming quietly watches over him nearby.
Li Yun unhappily pokes at Yan Zhengming from behind and asks,
“Sect Leader, have you recovered from your madness yet?”

Yan Zhengming reluctantly grants him a glance. He ruefully smiles

with a touch of self-mockery. “Looks like it gets even more serious.”
With a ‘tsk’, Li Yun asks, “Why does it seem that Xiao-Qian is afraid
of the heat? He wasn’t like that before.”

“Hmm?” Yan Zhengming’s face seems rather foggy as he asks,

“Really?”

Li Yun continues. “I remember we buried him ourselves on that

island. His breathing and pulse, everything stopped, but you kept
delaying, until his body was completely cold, such that there was no
way he could live. What do you think is going on?”
Yan Zhengming distractedly says, “I don’t know.”

Frowning, Li Yun follows the line of his reasoning. “Looking back,

there was indeed something strange back then. Zhou Hanzheng was
very powerful in the beginning, but as soon as Xiao-Qian appeared,
his cultivation level seemed to be suppressed more than half. Do you
think that was related to what has been going on? Hey, most senior
brother, I have an idea. Can it be that when he was separated from
us, Xiao-Qian met someone, or acquired something extraordinary,
which saved his life?”

Li Yun’s wild guess more than half hits the mark. Unfortunately, no
one appreciates his intellect, because Yan Zhengming doesn’t give
any reaction, seemingly not hearing anything.

Li Yun can’t stand it anymore. He presses. “Most senior brother!”

“Can’t you wait until he wakes up to ask about these trivial stuffs?”
Yan Zhengming impatiently swats Li Yun away. “How can I know?
Cut it out, you’re so noisy. Go away!”

Li Yun: “…”
He finally understands that all of his sect leader and senior brother’s
mind is being occupied by his Third Brother. It can’t contain anything
else, so Yan Zhengming doesn’t care one bit about the whys and
wherefores of what happened.
Yan Zhengming doesn’t pay attention to Li Yun anymore. He takes
out a snowy white hair ribbon, which was apparently woven from the
threads of the Saibei snow silkworms. It isn’t easy for the snow
silkworms to survive. They can live up to three thousand years, but
the silk yielded from one during all those years is only enough to
weave a tiny piece of fabric. This kind of silk is cool to the touch, and
can fetch an unimaginable price in the black market. Even “Money
Hunting Young Master” Yan Zhengming can only find one ribbon, so
he doesn’t want to use it so far.

He concentrates his spiritual energy on his fingertip into a very fine

ray. Delicately like an embroiderer, he carves a puppet charm on the
priceless hair ribbon. All of his attention is focused on this task, as if
he doesn’t care about anything else. When he is done, he makes the
ribbon fly to Cheng Qian with a flick of his fingers.

Li Yun takes a deep breath. “Most senior brother, can’t you calm
down a little?”
With just a look, Cheng Qian scared the Golden Thread Cicada such
that it dared not open its eyes. That means, he is already at the level
of having formed his primordial spirit or even higher. At this level,
when the cultivator is in a meditative trance, his awareness will be
released, even if unconsciously. As a result, nothing can get close to
him easily.

Li Yun can already a big pile of gold being smashed into nothingness
in the air. He looks mournfully at Sect Leader Yan, and begins to
understand what he meant with ‘even more serious” earlier.

Yan Zhengming says, “Shh, look.”

The hair ribbon flies quietly over Cheng Qian’s body. It gathers his
hair, which became loose because of Yan Zhengming’s punches,
and nimbly ties itself up without any obstruction.

This means, once Cheng Qian has entered a meditative trance, he

won’t pay attention to the surroundings at all.

All kinds of expressions pass by Li Yun’s face. In the end, he sighs

softly. “The sea has become land already, but why does it seem that
he hasn’t changed at all?”

Yan Zhengming smiles. He closes his eyes sleepily and says in a

low voice, “I really want to open the seal on Fuyao Mountain to go
home.”
Hearing that, Li Yun says with a serious face. “Sect leader and
senior brother, please don’t be impulsive. Does this look like a good
occasion to you? They are watching us closely.”

Yan Zhengming’s lips curls slightly into a mocking smile. “Just a

bunch of clowns. If they dare to come, I will make them unable to
return. I delay opening the mountain not because of that.”

Li Yun has never heard Yan Zhengming talk about that. He even
thinks that he has correctly guessed the reason. Hearing this, he
can’t help being surprised. “Why then?”

“Because I can’t open it,” Yan Zhengming says casually.

Li Yun springs up. “What?”

“Behave, won’t you? You make a fuss out of everything,” Yan

Zhengming annoyedly frowns. He continues. “The mountain seal in
the sect leader seal has three layers of locks: ‘heaven’, ‘earth’, and
‘humanity’. The ‘humanity’ lock comes first. Back then, our Master
used the spiritual energy of all five of us to make it. When I first saw
it, I thought that since Xiao-Qian.... So I didn’t look closely at the
‘heaven’ and ‘earth’ seals.”
Li Yun: “…”

No wonder that, the first time his most senior brother used his
primordial spirit to enter the sect leader seal, he emerged with such
a terrible face!

Li Yun lowers his voice. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“What’s the point?” Yan Zhengming yawns. “I’ve been looking for a
way to open the seal on the mountain. There is an awareness in the
sect leader seal too. Although I don’t know the details, I can sense
its existence all these years. I’ve been thinking, if one day my
cultivation level is high enough to suppress the awareness in the
sect leader seal, maybe I can force the mountain seal to open.”

Li Yun terrifiedly asks, “How strong will you have to be then?”

Closing his eyes, Yan Zhengming speaks rather carelessly, “The
awareness in the sect leader seal is formed from the awarenesses of
all previous leaders of our sect. What do you think?”

Li Yun: “…”

Yan Zhengming says in a low voice, “So there is no point telling you
guys. It’s a long way yet…”
His voice keeps getting quieter, and becomes mostly inaudible by
the end. Li Yun helplessly says, “To me, this ‘way’ can’t be called
long. It’s practically endless!”
Yan Zhengming says nothing. Li Yun tiredly sighs, as he lies and
looks up to the sky. He tries to console himself. “Xiao-Qian is finally
back. Xiao-Yuan… it’s difficult, but it doesn’t mean that there is no
way at all. We still have hope, don’t we?”
No one replies to him. Cheng Qian is quiet in his meditative trance.
Puddle has curled up and fallen asleep next to the campfire. Fire is
her element, so her hair doesn’t burn as it falls into the fire, the flame
dancing on her dark hair like in a wild celebration.

In the mid-summer night, the buzz of cicadas makes the surrounding

seem even more peaceful. On the night sky, the Milky Way is like a
silky ribbon full of glittering stars that shine through countless turns
of seasons.

The summer passes and the winter comes. Prosperity follows a time
of hardship. Light follows darkness.

As Li Yun turns his head, he sees that Yan Zhengming has fallen
asleep, his head leaning to one side. Yan Zhengming’s inner mind
has been hurt by the extreme emotions. The area around his
eyebrows reveals an exhaustion that hasn’t been seen for a long
time, but the fog has been lifted.

In the end, there is still hope.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 55

Thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the editing!

*******

As Cheng Qian opens his eyes, he is startled by a head that looks

like a feathery broom. Under his dazed gaze, that feathery broom
turns to him and greets in a lively tone. “Third Brother!”

The night before is like a dream that Cheng Qian hasn’t completely
woken up from. He confusedly asks, “What’s on your head?”

Puddle cheerfully says, “Feathers from seven-coloured sparrows.

Aren’t they pretty?”
“...” Cheng Qian maintains his tact with some difficulty. After a
moment of silence, he answers honestly, “A bit hard on the eyes.”

Puddle’s hackles are raised, but looking at his shabby white robe,
she cheers up again and says with a reluctant magnanimity. “Well,
you wouldn’t know if it’s pretty or not anyway. Come, we’re returning
to the Estate today.”

Cheng Qian really wants to protest the ‘wouldn’t know’. However,

after the separation of many years, she feels a bit like a stranger to
him, so he doesn’t say anything. Hanging his head a little so that his
gaze is on another point, he asks, “What is the Estate?”
Puddle replies. “Our new home!”
Cheng Qian puts away the ‘travel expense’ sword Lord Nian gifted
him, and carries Shuang Ren again. He follows Puddle and crosses
the forest next to the clearing. As he looks up, he can see that Yan
Zhengming is waiting for them in the air. Although Cheng Qian has
never cared about how other people dress, he can’t help feeling
startled.

Whatever strange technique his most senior brother has cultivated,

he has easily changed his outfits right in the wilderness, creating a
stunning look. The ensemble is completed with a fan that seemingly
came from nowhere, which he taps on his palm from time to time.
Compared to what he was like the night before, he seems to be a
totally different person.

Next to Puddle, who is the human form of a preening pheasant, his

exquisite appearance, like a heavenly beauty descending to the
mortal realm, comes across even more strongly.
Cheng Qian glances at Puddle with a complicated feeling, thinking to
himself that this child has been led astray by their most senior
brother. She has learnt his vain habits, but not his taste.

Puddle glances around and asks in a surprised tone, “Oh, where is

Second Brother?”

“He wanted to look up the array Han Yuan made, so he returned to

the village from last night already,” Seeing that Puddle has stuck
chicken feathers all over her head again, Yan Zhengming is itching
to yell at her. However, for various reasons, he tries to suppress the
impulse. Feigning a neutral expression, he says, “I have an errand
for you too. Zhe Shi wants to send us something. Go, quickly.”
Puddle seems surprised. Then she says with some disappointment,
“Oh, I want to stay with Third Brother for a while longer.”
Yan Zhengming thinks annoyedly, You’re this old already but you
aren’t observant at all.

Of course these words are too ridiculous to be said out loud. He has
to feign a serious face. “He is already back, so he won’t leave again.
You can talk to him anytime after this errand. It’s important to do
what has to be done first.”

Puddle has big wings but a simple mind. She immediately believes
her most senior brother’s bullshit ‘what has to be done’. Only after
Cheng Qian nods to her in response to her questioning glance,
promising that he won’t leave again, that she turns into a small bird
and flies way.

Having chased the last third-wheel away, Yan Zhengming suddenly

gets nervous even before he can be gleeful. Internally railing on
himself, he thinks with a touch of delusion, “This brat grew up under
my watch. Why the heck should I be nervous?”

The guilty feeling in Cheng Qian’s heart still hasn’t completely

dissipated. Seeing that Yan Zhengming seems to want to discuss
something, he dutifully waits. However, after a long while, no word
comes forth, making him a bit lost.

As Yan Zhengming glances at Cheng Qian, their gazes meet each

other. Yan Zhengming hastily averts his eyes, thinking impatiently,
“Oh no, I’m still nervous. I must be possessed.”
Thus, he dons his ‘sect leader’ face and says succinctly, “Let’s go.”

Then, he leads the way and rides his sword into the sky. His sleeves
fluttering as he waits for Cheng Qian, he makes a startling view with
the elegant calmness of a master of the sect. As Cheng Qian hastily
follows him, he can’t help comparing the figure in front of him with his
most senior brother’s spoiled manners in the past. It doesn’t make
him feel any more comfortable.

Yan Zhengming has questions about several issues at the same

time. In the end, he chooses something that is most relevant for the
present. “Who gave you that sword?”

That thing looks like a giant golden teeth when held in the hand.
Cheng Qian definitely wouldn’t pick it up on his own. Maybe
someone shady gave it to him.

Cheng Qian replies. “Gift from Lord Nian of Mingming Valley.”

Remembering what Puddle said earlier, Yan Zhengming can guess
the “Elder of the Dark Lake” Nian Mingming mentioned was Cheng
Qian. An unreasonable anger erupts in his heart as he thinks.
“Mingming Valley? Why didn’t that geezer say anything when I was
there? Did he want to steal Cheng Qian from us? Hphm, he doesn’t
know his place.”

At this moment, the innocent Lord Nian must be sneezing.

Yan Zhengming continues his inquiry. “What did you go to Mingming
Valley for?”

Cheng Qian replies, “I borrowed his ice lake to recreate my body.”

Yan Zhengming frowns. Pushing aside all other nonsensical

thoughts, he says seriously, “From what I know, except for the
reincarnation of primordial spirit, there is no way to recreate a body.
Otherwise, back then our Master wouldn’t…”

Thinking a little, Cheng Qian replies succinctly, “Maybe it’s because I

formed my primordial spirit in the Spirit Collection Jade?”
“What is a Spirit Collection Jade?” Yan Zhengming can’t resist
asking, “Can’t you tell everything from the beginning?”
This story would take forever to be told. Pausing a little, Cheng Qian
pulls out the start of everything from his memory with some difficulty,
from when he and Han Yuan first met Tang Zhen, to when Wen Ya
gifted him the Spirit Collection Jade, and finally how he recreated his
body in Mingming Valley. He keeps quiet about the soul-rending
pains in the Spirit Collection Jade, and the seven rounds of heavenly
tribulations in Mingming Valley.
Unfortunately, it isn’t as if Yan Zhengming is still a sheltered child.
How can he not know what primordial spirit business is like?

To form the primordial spirit in one’s own body already requires a

great effort to cultivate one’s soul, during which one can’t make any
mistake. What would it take to do so in an external artifact?
Furthermore, it’s unprecedented in history that an external artifact is
forged into a body. If it’s as easy as Cheng Qian acts, the yao and
spirits would all become human already, without having to spend so
much effort on cultivation.
Forget an ice lake, if a jade is soaked in the lava for decades, all it
would become is probably just a cooked jade.

Yan Zhengming presses. “Even if that jade is a divine artifact, can it

become a human body just from soaking in an ice lake? That can’t
be. Tell the truth.”

Cheng Qian really has to look at him with a different eye. Back then,
he was a spoiled rich young master, who would yell ‘bald donkeys’ at
monks without understanding why that would make them angry. Yet
now he has become someone who can think things through. Seeing
that he can’t hide it anymore, Cheng Qian has to tell the truth. “It was
against the heavenly order, of course there would be heavenly
tribulation.”
The sword under Yan Zhengming suddenly comes to a halt in the air.
“What?”

His throat immediately goes dry. “Was it… major or minor heavenly
tribulation?”

Some cultivators who progress too fast will have to undergo

heavenly tribulations. Normally there are only a couple of lightning
rays, at most nine. It’s a light punishment from the Path of Heaven,
as a warning for the mortal to humble themselves and respect the
divine. This is a ‘minor heavenly tribulation’.

Major heavenly tribulations only happen when someone powerful

ascends to immortality. Even if the one that undergoes the tribulation
can level the mountains and raise the seas, their chance of survival
at this level is only one out of ten. It’s already a great disrespect
when an insect struggles to live more than what it is granted. To think
of living forever alongside the heavens is way beyond that.
According to the legends, when a major heavenly tribulation
happens, thunder and lightning will strike non-stop. There is no way
to resist it, nor is there anywhere to hide from it on earth.

Cheng Qian can’t find the answer immediately. “Oh…”

Yan Zhengming immediately says, “Major heavenly tribulation, then.”

Cheng Qian casually says, “Oh, not really. I was in seclusion the
entire time, so there are many things I don’t know. I’ve never heard
that heavenly tribulations are categorised like that.”

When it comes to pretending, unlike Puddle, Cheng Qian has been

very good at it from a young age. Having said that, he feigns a just
right amount of curiosity and asks, “What is a major heavenly
tribulation?”
Yan Zhengming stares wordlessly at him.

Cheng Qian nonchalantly adds, “I passed it already anyway. It was

nothing serious. Maybe it was just a minor heavenly tribulation?”

Yan Zhengming’s gaze begins to get chilly, like when his incense
burner was toppled when he was young. He doesn’t say anything,
and just stares at the other person. It’s written on each of his
eyelashes that I’m mad. Apologize, quick.

If it was like before, Cheng Qian would annoyedly think ‘you’re so

spoiled’, then depending on how serious it was, he would decide
whether to smooth things over. However, after a long separation, his
heart has softened. When he was stuck in the Spirit Collection Jade,
in the space between life and death, the annoying personality of his
most senior brother, the toads of his second senior brother, the
troubles caused by his fourth junior brother, even the diapers of his
little disciple sister, were all memories of his that couldn’t be lost.

Cheng Qian suddenly smiles, his eyes crinkling adorably. He avoids

the topic of heavenly tribulations, and soothes Yan Zhengming.
“Senior brother, I missed everyone a lot.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

His heart suddenly beating like mad, he hastily throws back ‘hurry
up’. Then leaving Cheng Qian behind, he dives into the clouds below
on his sword and runs away.
Losing all of his courage, Sect Leader Yan thinks, Don’t hope that I
won’t investigate this. Once I’m home, I’ll write to that geezer in
Mingming Valley to ask about everything.

Cheng Qian thought that the so-called ‘Estate’ would be in the

middle of the wilderness. Unexpectedly, it is an actual estate on a
mountain outside a town. Below it are fertile fields cultivated by the
tenants. The place is busy without being disorderly.

They land on top of the mountain. On that vantage point, one can
see the busy streets and markets of the nearby town.

A random observer would think that this is the residence of a mortal

wealthy landowner.
Once he gets in the village however, Cheng Qian understands why
Yan Zhengming wanted to acquire this place.

The previous owner of the estate was probably someone special.

The place is supported by the mountain, and situated at a point
where the water gathers. The terrain is really exquisite, such that the
natural spiritual energy from around all concentrates here. On closer
look, it isn’t much inferior from Azure Dragon Island in the Eastern
Sea.

“I’ve reinforced the surrounding walls,” Yan Zhengming says,

“There’re spells on the bricks to prevent spiritual energy from leaking
outside. This is no match for Fuyao Mountain, but certainly better
than Mingming Valley.”

Why did you sulk then… Not knowing what to say, Cheng Qian can
only nod in agreement.

In the outer area, there are towers and pavillions. From time to time,
a young servant can be seen sweeping the yard, without making a
noise. Crossing a flower garden, they reach the inner area. The
shades of the trees here are thick and there is a huge bamboo
grove, which keep the heat away. One can’t help but walk lightly
when entering here, in order to avoid disturbing the serenity of this
place.
“Outsiders aren’t allowed here. We won’t be disturbed when in
seclusion,” Yan Zhengming says, “Follow me.”
He leads Cheng Qian into the bamboo grove. There is a small
building in the middle of the grove. A wooden plate with the name
“Qing An” is hung on the door. As the bamboo leaves rustle in the
soft breeze, Cheng Qian stands dazedly at the door, feeling as if he
has returned to Fuyao Mountain after a long time away.

The door to the chamber is half-opened. The stationery is all on the

desk, together with a half-finished copy of the Scripture of Serenity,
as if the owner has never left the place.

Taking the opportunity when Cheng Qian is still looking around, Yan
Zhengming hastily folds up the half-finished Scripture of Serenity and
hides it in his sleeve. Then he casually says, “I.. well, I remember
your Qing An Abode was like this. Have a look, is there any detail
that is not right?”

Looking at the window full of life-like flower carvings, the tea service
with spells on it, chairs with cushions so soft that they entice one to
sink in, as well as the soft scent of ink for the seal, Cheng Qian can
immediately guess whose territory it is. He thinks, Not similar at all.

However, seeing that Yan Zhengming is trying hard to maintain his

composure, Cheng Qian lies without blinking. “There is no difference
at all. It can even replace the real place.”

Yan Zhengming breathes out in relief. Then, he keeps a straight face

with some difficulty, and says like a proper ‘sect leader’, “Good, it’s
meant for you. You can live here.”

Having said that, he warns Cheng Qian with a serious face and
threatening tone. “Have you remembered what I said? If you dare
leave home without a good reason again, I will execute you on
behalf of our sect.”

Both amused and annoyed, Cheng Qian can’t resist talking back.
“Drop it, won’t you?”

On the way, he didn’t fight back when needled, and instead

obediently listened to Yan Zhengming’s every word. That made Yan
Zhengming anxious, as if the person next to him wasn’t real. Now
that he finally hears Cheng Qian’s familiar tone and attitude, his
heart finally settles down like a hanging boulder that falls onto the
ground.

Sect Leader Yan mournfully asks himself, Can’t you leave it when he
is happy with you, asshole?
The asshole takes a step forward and hugs Cheng Qian from
behind. Squeezing his arms in a split second, Yan Zhengming closes
his eyes and holds his breath, as if to calm a strange sentiment. Just
as quickly, he lets go. Cordially patting Cheng Qian’s shoulder, he
says, “Well, you should rest.”

Then, he takes the half-finished page of the Scripture of Serenity

with him as he leaves. It isn’t until he is well out of the bamboo grove
that he lets out a suppressed sigh. In a mixture of contentment and
disquiet, he goes to the chamber on the other side of the wall. There
he focuses and sends his primordial spirit into the sect leader seal, in
order to carefully investigate the mountain seal that his Master left
behind.
Although Cheng Qian only answers vaguely, and only when he is
pressed, Yan Zhengming can intuit that Cheng Qian’s death to life
journey seem to match ‘heaven, earth, and humanity’, and the
tribulations of the three realms correspond to the three layers of
locks in the mountain seal. Is it just a coincidence?
He tries to use his primordial spirit to wrestle a little with the
awareness in the sect leader seal. The seal is very generous to him,
like dealing with an ignorant young disciple. It doesn’t hurt him, only
blocks him off, for him to see that he is just an ant that tries to shake
a giant tree, that he still needs to improve a lot and should stop
reaching beyond his capability.

Walking around the ‘humanity’ layer, which he has seen, Yan

Zhengming goes to the ‘earth’ layer behind it. He sends his
awareness inside to investigate. There are four squares in four
colours: blue, white, red, and black. They are arranged in four
cardinal directions, each of them has a lock. Three of the locks are
still closed, only the lock of Azure Dragon has been opened.

What is going on?

 Liu Yao - Chapter 56

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom as usual!

*******
Although the sect leader seal is always worn on his neck, this is only
the second time Yan Zhengming sends his primordial spirit inside it.
The first time he did it purely on accident. He didn’t know its true
nature.

However, he has a completely different mentality in the present.

Even now, Yan Zhengming can still remember clearly how he nearly
lost the will to live, the first time he saw the three layers of locks in
the mountain seal.

He felt that he had just been floating through life since his childhood.
The only weighty promise he ever made was to return to Fuyao
Mountain some day, and bring Xiao-Qian, who had perished on that
deserted island in the Eastern Sea, back to home. If he couldn’t do
even that, he really didn’t know what was the point of him living on.

Fortunately for him, at that point, Puddle began to undergo the trial
of her yao skeleton growing. Puddle’s yao skeleton grew about a
finger joint every ten years. As a half yao, her human half both
helped and hurt her. On one hand, thanks to the nature of things,
she had an intelligence that far exceeds the animal’s, and could
have a better understanding for her cultivation. On the other hand,
as she grew, her mix-blood body became too weak for the
exponentially growing energy of a celestial yao. Before her own
cultivation reached a certain level, she needed someone to suppress
the yao energy when her yao skeleton grew.

Li Yun was too weak for the task. Although Yan Zhengming had the
wish to just stop living from time to time, he never dared to really
abandon those two. He just didn’t have the freedom to commit
suicide.

But it is truly his luck that he has them.

He circles around the layer several times but doesn’t find any clue,
so he leisurely moves to the ‘heaven’ layer.
The layer of ‘heaven’ is even more strange. Its cover is completely
transparent, inside is a starry sky. Billion grains of glittery dust like
countless stars emerge and drop throughout the space with neither
rhyme nor reason. In a corner there is a hole that is only as big as a
needle’s point. Yan Zhengming pauses and concentrates his mind to
study it for a long time. All he sees is that from time to time, a star
touches that hole, but perhaps because the shape or the size isn’t
right, none of them fall out.

Yan Zhengming looks closely at this ‘only one way’ layer of locks
meant to represent the ‘heaven’ for a long while. He realises that
besides that hole, there is no other opening, and his awareness can’t
get inside there.

A strange thought comes to him. Can it be, among these countless

stars, only one of them fits the hole and falls out. Not only its size
and shape have to fit the hole, it has to come in the correct direction,
so that it can fall out of the lock?

Then, can it be the intent of the ‘heaven’ layer is “where human

capability ends, listen to what Heaven ordains”?
As soon as he has this realisation, Yan Zhengming feels a bit upset,
but he isn’t too disappointed. It is as if after Cheng Qian has
returned, all of his doubts and anxiety in the past years fade away,
and Yan Zhengming suddenly can take it more easy.
He thinks, Cultivation is a field that respects the idea of Fate. That
seems logical. If the ‘heaven’ layer doesn’t open no matter what, it
must be Fate.

The last time he entered the sect leader, when the ‘humanity’
blocked him, he felt like he wanted to die. This time, in the face of
the mysterious ‘earth’ layer and the 'heaven' that defies all reasons,
he miraculously feels no resentment at all. Through this, it can be
seen that in life, an outlook on the same issue may change
depending on the mentality.

He believes that, whatever happens, they will be able to return to

Fuyao Mountain someday. If the current generation can’t manage
beyond opening the ‘humanity’ layer, the future generation can open
the ‘earth’ layer. If the ‘heaven’ layer is an opaque entity that one can
see but can’t do anything to it, as long as the lineage of their sect
doesn’t end, they will have all of eternity.

With so much time, even the impossible can become possible.

As long as the relevant people are there, isn’t everywhere already

their home?
Yan Zhengming’s mood becomes significantly relaxed. He lets the
whole of his mind enter the sect leader seal for the first time. The
immense but calm awareness of the sect leader seal absorbs him
inside. A whole world opens in his heart. His cultivation, which has
been in a bottleneck for a while, suddenly shows signs of breaking
through. Thus, he meditates right in front of the 'heaven' layer.
As the light of the stars in the ‘heaven’ layer shines on his face, Yan
Zhengming is acutely aware of the ripples in his heart. He can’t help
the gentle smile on his lips, as if to realise that, as soon as he thinks
of Cheng Qian, he doesn’t ask for anything else in this life.

Although he is only at the level of “not desiring anything” for only a

blink of an eye, it is enough for him to get a glimpse of a wider world.

Letting the awareness in the sect leader seal brush his meridians
time and time again, Yan Zhengming connects with this awareness.
Fragments of images appear to him, the faces in which are all
unfamiliar. The scenes come and go in a flash. They appear to be
the memories in the sect leader seal.
Suddenly, Yan Zhengming catches a familiar scene as he scans
through the memories. He recognises what it is about as soon as he
sees it. That is none other than the chaos that broke out on Azure
Dragon Island, when the lord of the island Gu Yanxue secretly told
them to escape, while he was engaging in a fierce battle with Tang
Yao.
In the present, as an outside observer, Yan Zhengming can see that,
as Lord Gu sent him the secret message, he also recited a
password, which followed his spiritual energy and entered the sect
leader seal.

With a clicking sound, Yan Zhengming wakes up from his meditative

trance. Right after that, his primordial spirit is sent out from the sect
leader seal, and falls back to his body. Startled, Yan Zhengming
opens his eyes. It’s already early morning outside. He has been in
the sect leader seal one whole day.

Yan Zhengming frowns as he does his best to recall everything.

Back then on Azure Dragon Island, his cultivation was limited, and
chaos reigned in his heart. Therefore, he didn’t notice the password
from the lord of the island at all.

Does this mean, the Azure Dragon lock in the ‘earth’ layer was
opened by Lord Gu?

Frowning, Yan Zhengming thinks about the Four Sages, one of

whom had died and the other three injured back then. Can it be that
the four passwords in the ‘earth’ layer are kept by the Four Sages?

The more he knows, the more he can’t tell if his disciple grandfather,
whose history is a mystery, was friends or foes with the Four Sages.
Furthermore, it would be fine if it were anyone else, but one of the
Four Sages died under his disciple grandfather’s own hand. If that
person really kept a password, from whom can Yan Zhengming ask
for it now?

As Yan Zhengming is lost in his thoughts, Li Yun suddenly pushes

open the door to his room and charges in.
Li Yun acts so naturally, so obviously he is used to doing this. Yan
Zhengming glares at him, thinking that the sect leader position of this
wild chicken sect is good as nothing. Whether it’s his disciple brother
and sister, or the underlings, they keep entering his room for the
smallest problem without any reservation, such that he no longer
dares to take a bath during daytime.
Cheng Qian leisurely follows Li Yun. As Yan Zhengming is still
annoyed by the two of them showing up together, Li Yun complains,
not bothering to mince his words. “You make me look for you
everywhere. I didn’t know you returned here. Didn’t you always stay
in the bamboo grove before?”

In Cheng Qian’s presence, Yan Zhengming immediately blushes. He

hastily says to Li Yun, “When was I ‘always’ in the bamboo grove?
I… I just went there occasionally to tidy the place up!”
As if not understanding Yan Zhengming at all, Li Yun says carelessly,
“That’s not true. Whenever I wanted to find you, nine out of ten you’d
be there.”

Then, this talkative asshole turns and teases Cheng Qian. “Once
you’re back, we’ve all become stepchildren. Our sect leader gifts you
even his favourite place. Oh, this reminds me, wasn’t your place on
Fuyao Mountain back then called ‘Qing An Abode’ too?”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Not everyone can have this skill to bring up what shouldn’t be said
with every line that comes out of him like this.

Not daring to see what expression is currently on Cheng Qian’s face,

Yan Zhengming can’t suppress his anger and shouts at Li Yun. “Shut
up. Where is your sense of propriety? Eaten by dogs?”
Li Yun surprisedly says, “Huh? Since when does our sect have any
propriety?”

“...” Yan Zhengming can’t find any argument against that. He resigns
to saying tiredly. “Go away!”

Taking advantage of his posture, Li Yun hides the smile full of

mischief on his lips, and feigns a serious face. “You chase me off
even before I can get to the main business. Tsk. Xiao-Qian, you don’t
know it yet, but our most senior brother’s temper keeps getting more
and more unpredictable.”
Cheng Qian follows up with a straight face. “Well, my mother’s mood
before she gave birth to my younger brother, that is unpredictable
temper. This is nothing yet.”
His utterly fake humble politeness fills Yan Zhengming with a familiar
sensation, making him very annoyed but unable to do anything.

Next to him, Li Yun laughs so hard his body is shaking.

Having teased his sect leader and senior brother to his heart’s
content, Li Yun sits down with a satisfied air, and summons a big
piece of Xuanzhi paper from the table with a flick of his hand. He
spreads the paper and says seriously, “I’ve carefully analysed Han
Yuan’s array. Here, have a look.”

Then, Li Yun picks up the brush and draws each stroke on the paper.
“He made a ring of traps outside. That ring was destroyed by our
most senior brother, so I can’t find out what was hidden in there. But
I do know the part in the middle here. It’s an array to locate the
mountain veins called ‘Spirit-Seeking Technique’.”

What is called “mountain veins” is also known as “spiritual veins” in

some places.

A natural site has its spiritual power because the mountain veins
form a complete circulation. When the veins are disrupted, the
spiritual energy concentrated there will be immediately drained,
turning it into a dead lump of dirt. Therefore, “the veins of the
mountain” hold its lifeforce. When a sect uses a mountain as their
base, they would set up special arrays to protect its veins against
outsiders with ill intents. The technique to neutralise such arrays is
“Spirit-Seeking Technique”.

Cheng Qian says, “It can’t be that he wants to drain the energy veins
of Fuyao Mountain? Once Fuyao Mountain dies because its spiritual
energy is drained out, the natural mystic site there may lose its
power, and the seal will be opened. But why would he want a dead
mountain?”
“To look for the Wish-granting Stone, maybe?” Li Yun says, “I don’t
know. Back then Lord Gu refused to tell where that stone was, even
under threat of death. Those people gained nothing from Azure
Dragon Island, so they made a big fuss for a while. The remaining
two Sages nearly became targets themselves, and had to swear on
their own cultivation and lifespans, that they had never seen such an
artifact. Xiao-Yuan… that demonic cultivator may think the Stone is
on Fuyao Mountain.”
“He won’t be able to find the mountain’s energy veins so easily,” Yan
Zhengming cuts in. “Shall we wait and see? We have been turning
that spot upside down all these years.”

“No, Spirit-Seeking Technique isn’t something so simple,” Li Yun

says, “Do you remember what he did to escape? That’s the ‘Soul
Replacement’ technique. With a piece of paper as the conductor, the
user takes a living soul from another place to die in their place, which
is typical for demonic techniques. To have ‘Spirit-Seeking Technique’
and ‘Soul Replacement’ technique at the same place. It isn’t easy to
find someone who knows both of these rare demonic techniques.
At this point, Li Yun stops and assumes an air of mystery.

Cheng Qian thinks, Do we have to wait for an explanation for even

this?

Yan Zhengming impatiently urges. “If you have something to say

then say it. Don’t drag it out!”
Li Yun finally says, “From what I know, apparently only the
‘Nightmare Travellers’ still know these two lost techniques.”

Cheng Qian, who isn’t up to date with the outside world, immediately
asks, “What are the ‘Nightmare Travellers’?”
“A gang of demonic cultivators,” Yan Zhengming distractedly says,
“Demonic cultivators usually have their own standards, so most of
them act alone and very rarely work together. For some reason, the
‘Nightmare Travellers’ manage to gather this gang of demonic
cultivators together and declare themselves to be a sect. Long story
short, they have never done a single good thing. From what I heard,
there are several arrest orders from the great sects targeting them
already. Why is Han Yuan with them?”

Yan Zhengming’s heart constricts as he says this. If Han Yuan has

been doing things alone, it is still possible to save him, but if he is
involved with this notorious demonic cult...

“Don’t worry. At least we have a clue now,” Li Yun waves the brush
that is still full of ink about. “The Nightmare Walkers usually lurk in
Nanjiang. That place is full of abnormal energy. Some people think
their lair is there. Do you want to go have a look?”

Yan Zhengming hesitates a little. Nanjiang isn’t an ordinary place.

Furthermore, it isn’t without reason that no one does anything about
the “Nightmare Travellers”, despite their countless crimes throughout
the years.
However, Han Yuan...

Puddle has told them everything about the encounter by Fuyao

Mountain, including that Han Yuan and that demon were in
disagreement with each other. If Han Yuan has indeed completely
fallen to the demonic path, there is nothing left to discuss. He will
have to be executed according to the sect rules. Even their Master
wouldn’t be able to object. But that isn’t really the case.

That’s their junior brother, whom they entered the Valley of the Yao
to rescue despite not even having qi sensitivity yet back then.
Although he was a troublemaker, who can give him up as long as
they have the faintest hope?

In the end, Yan Zhengming decides, “Fine, when Puddle is back,

we’ll go to Nanjiang.”

Cheng Qian has no objection to that. As he turns to leave, Yan

Zhengming suddenly calls out to him.
“Xiao-Qian, wait,” Yan Zhengming calls him back. He feels that he is
being silly, but if he doesn’t talk about this issue, he’ll keep feeling
like he were choking on a bone. After a moment of controlling
himself, he explains not very truthfully. “Before, I went to the bamboo
grove because… because it was cooler there. I myself didn’t live
there.”
Not getting why he wants to explain this, Cheng Qian confusedly
turns his head and asks, “So, what?”

Yan Zhengming can’t answer that, while Li Yun laughs nearly to

death.

Cheng Qian says, “It’s fine if you want to keep staying there to avoid
the heat. I don’t take up that much space.”

Back then, when they lived on Azure Dragon Island, they were a
group of youths that regularly stayed over in each other’s rooms.
Cheng Qian crashed in his most senior brother’s room many times.
After the hundred-year separation, his impression of the others stays
in the teenage days, so he feels there is nothing inappropriate about
that.

Hearing those words, Yan Zhengming blushes.

In this moment of unrest, his hand, which is drenched in cold sweats,
carelessly rubs at the coin ring and accidentally stirs up the illusion
inside it.
Cheng Qian terrifiedly watches his teenage self emerges with an
expressionless face like a wandering soul from a ring with strange
mounting right in front of him…
 Liu Yao - Chapter 57

Thank you to MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

*******
What should one feel when staring into the eyes of one’s copy that is
floating in the air?

Especially when this copy has an icy expression, with his eyes full of
frost, as if he deeply hates this world for some reason.

A chill runs through Cheng Qian’s spine. He can’t help taking a step
backward, thinking, “What the hell is this?”

As soon as he thinks that, the floating ‘Cheng Qian’ already flies to

him like a ghost and raises his hand to slap him.
Cheng Qian: “…”

Of course, even if he is startled by this thing, he won’t let himself be

hit by a small shade. With just one move, Cheng Qian flies out of the
room and stands on the wall outside. He looks at Yan Zhengming,
who is fumbling to withdraw the ‘ghost’ back to the ring, with a
weirded out expression. “What is this?”

Having no way to talk himself out of this, Yan Zhengming hides his
index finger. Not long after he reaches a relaxed state, he stops
wanting to live again.

Li Yun immediately cuts in to ‘explain’ for his sect leader and senior
brother. He unnecessarily says, “It’s an imitation spirit.”
The so-called ‘imitation spirit’ is a contrast to ‘true spirit’. Everything
in this world has a spirit. Objects that have existed for a long time
like ancient jade or ancient wood can gain sentience. When one
carves some simple spells on such objects, which have spiritual
energy but haven’t gained sentience, such an imitation spirit can be
created.

Although an imitation spirit looks like a real person, it has no

awareness or intelligence, and can only do some mechanical tasks.
Some imitation spirits made from sharp objects are aggressive, but
they only know one move. Some others can do some trivial tasks like
sending messages or serving tea. In other words, besides showing
off to mortals, the imitation spirits aren’t very useful.

“I know that thing is an imitation spirit,” Cheng Qian doubtfully says,

“It… that thing… why…”

Although Cheng Qian doesn’t think of his own looks as anything

remarkable, he can’t help feeling that something isn’t right, as he
sees that the little imitation spirit looks just like him. He asks with a
frown, “...Does it look like that?”

Seeing a way out from the tight place he is in, Yan Zhengming puts
his hand over Li Yun’s mouth, and finally manages to speak for
himself. “Because I thought of you when I saw the coin, so I made it
at a whim. Uhm, don’t think too much about it.”

Full of schadenfreude, Li Yun thinks, Heh, he keeps digging himself

deeper.

“What do I think too much about?” Squatting on the wall, Cheng Qian
has more and more questions. “Furthermore, didn’t you make that
coin yourself?”
An imitation shade can only be created from raw material, not a
man-made artifact. Cheng Qian is in his usual form, where he
doesn’t know what he should know, but always knows the
inconvenient things.
Yan Zhengming has no reply to that. He feels humiliated, like he
were caught red-handed when cheating, and, to make the matter
worse, the one that caught him had bad eyesight and just kept
staring.

Cheng Qian asks, “Also, what did it raise its hand for? Did it want to
have a round of sparring with me?”

Li Yun easily escapes from his most senior brother, who has gone
stiff, and replies leisurely, “Ah, it wants to slap you. An imitation spirit
doesn’t recognise who is who. It’ll slap whoever stands in front of it.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Hearing that, Cheng Qian’s face, which has been calm like a lake
that has no ripple, looks troubled. Frowning, he thinks it over
carefully, then asks hesitantly, “Most senior brother, did I do
something to make you misunderstand? I don’t slap anyone. I don’t
grab people’s hair and scratch their faces either.”
“No, it’s just…” In the beginning, Yan Zhengming helplessly tries to
defend himself. Then he quickly realises that Cheng Qian is teasing
him again. Feeling that he can’t keep his position as their most
senior brother for much longer, he points at Cheng Qian and orders.
“Get down here, now!”

Adding fuel to the fire, Li Yun, who is next to Yan Zhengming,

casually adds. “It’s just that our most senior brother made a mistake
when he created this imitation spirit.”
Yan Zhengming says, “So what? That small mistake doesn’t affect
the final outcome in general!”

Chuckling, Li Yun continues, “He initially wanted to create someone

who would talk to him at night, so that he wouldn’t lose his sleep
because he felt lonely in bed.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He suddenly feels strangely embarrassed, sensing that, after a
round of teasing, he himself has become a target.

Especially the ‘lonely in bed’ part, which just doesn’t sound right to
him.

Having used both of his disciple brothers for his entertainment, Li

Yun feels very satisfied. It doesn’t bother him that his sect leader and
senior brother uses his sword as a stick to chase after him.

Yan Zhengming yells, “Today I have to teach you a lesson!”

Li Yun replies, “Ow, sect leader and senior brother, it isn’t a good
look to lash out like that, just because you’re embarrassed.”

Yan Zhengming chases Li Yun from the inner quarter to the outer
quarter. As the young servants, who are sweeping the yard, stare at
him in surprise, he has to stop and puts on a serious face. After
discreetly adjusting his robe, he dignifiedly walks by.
With a conciliatory smile, Li Yun follows him and says, “I just wanted
to make Xiao-Qian laugh a bit.”
Hearing that, Yan Zhengming loses his temper. “You wanted to make
him laugh, so you used me as fodder for your jokes? You’re really
something, Li Yun.”
“My sect leader and senior brother is a generous person, who won’t
hold a grudge over such tiny things,” Having said that not very
sincere flattery, Li Yun pauses a little, then he says in a more serious
tone. “Have you seen it? Xiao-Qian hasn’t changed, but I feel that,
after returning, he doesn’t seem to be really human.”
Yan Zhengming stops in his track.

Li Yun continues. “You know, back then that boy regularly pissed
people off, like he couldn’t get along with anyone, but he was lively in
his own way. Unlike now, if you don’t look at him directly, it feels like
he doesn’t exist at all. A flower growing on a rock is more alive than
him.”
“Oh,” Yan Zhengming immediately recounts to Li Yun what Cheng
Qian told him.

Li Yun’s expression becomes even graver.

Yan Zhengming asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Creating a body from an artifact. I’ve never heard about something
like that,” Li Yun mused. “Who is this Tang Zhen guy?”

Yan Zhengming says, “I heard it from Xiao-Qian that…”

Li Yun waves his hand dismissively. “You shouldn’t just hear from
him alone. Don’t you understand your own junior brother? He can go
through fire for a person who has helped him. It’s likely he doesn’t
think too much about it. Even if he does think about it, he doesn’t
necessarily hold on to his thoughts.”

Yan Zhengming teases. “Well, aren’t you the only smart guy
around?”
Li Yun glares at him. “The Soul-Consuming Lamp is an artifact of
great evil. Even someone like our Master lost his mind for a while
back then, to the point that he tore his own portrait. This Senior Tang
was stuck in the Lamp for more than one hundred years. What would
his mind be like? Well, I’m a coward, so whether he meant well or ill,
that detail makes me worry a little. Also, I’m sure Xiao-Qian wasn’t
completely honest to you. How could a divine artifact like the Spirit
Collection Jade be transformed by human hands so easily? Such a
serious defiance of the heavenly order must have been subjected to
a major heavenly tribulation, and likely not just one round. Hey,
where are you going? Did your tail get burnt or something?”

Yan Zhengming says, “I have to kill him!”

As Cheng Qian sits alone on the wall around Yan Zhengming’s

quarter, he sees the weeds on the wall, and is suddenly reminded of
the “Dried wood meets spring” move.

The wild flowers in the cracks sway slightly. After a moment of

stillness, they suddenly become full of life, as if waking up. Just as
Cheng Qian’s wish, long stems grow and the tiny white flowers
bloom brilliantly.
An unusual thought comes to Cheng Qian. “Alive again.”

Although Yan Zhengming has declared that he has to kill Cheng

Qian, this scene greets him as soon as he enters his quarters, and
extinguishes his anger in a blink of an eye. Hearing him, Cheng Qian
looks up and smiles. “Should I scram too?”
Yan Zhengming quietly looks at the white flowers on the wall for a
while. The anger refuses to come to him, but he doesn’t want to let it
slide, so he picks a fight. “White flowers on grey wall. Is this a
shrine? Change to another colour!”
Cheng Qian says with a smile. “Negotiate with it yourself.”
Then he casually jumps down from the wall and is gone in just a
second.

Standing on the spot, Yan Zhengming recalls Li Yun’s opinion that

“Xiao-Qian doesn’t feel alive”. He feels a little doubtful and wonders
if Li Yun has been thinking too much again. Then he walks to the
wall, and using the energy on fingertip as a knife, he cuts the flowers
and puts them in a vase in his quarter.

When night falls, Yan Zhengming is worried again, so he goes to the

bamboo grove.
Cheng Qian is meditating. Without disturbing, Yan Zhengming walks
around the room.

It is obvious that the mattress hasn’t been touched at all. In the

study, the brush is still leaning on the inkwell. The tea on the shelf
hasn’t been used any. There is only a cup of cold water on the table.

Frowning, Yan Zhengming quietly observes Cheng Qian for a while.

He thinks, “What is the ice lake of Mingming Valley like?”
After fifty years in a place where water freezes. It does feel a bit
unfair to wish him to be lively and expressive right way.

As soon as he thinks that, Yan Zhengming doesn’t have the heart to

be angry.

In the cool breeze of the bamboo grove, the awareness in the sect
leader seal on Yan Zhengming’s chest can be felt more clearly. The
day before, he made good progress in there, so he quietly meditates
right there and uses his primordial spirit to enter the sect leader seal.

Once again, he faces the ‘heaven’ layer and lets the awareness in
the sect leader seal lead him deeper. When his awareness connects
with the one in the seal, the memory fragments once again appear in
front of his eyes.

However, this time, Yan Zhengming feels that he is no longer an

audience. All of the emotions in the memories feel so real, that he
unconsciously loses himself in them. Gradually, there is no
separation between his self and what is inside anymore.

Once again, he sees Lord Gu in many scenes. There is nothing

strange about this. Unlike Cheng Qian, he has never seen the real
selves of their Master and disciple grandfather. Among the people
who had close relations with the previous generation of Fuyao
Mountain, he knows only Gu Yanxue.

In here, Lord Gu seems to be much more healthy than when Yan

Zhengming met him. He is facing a middle-aged man. The other man
has grey hair on his temples, his eyes are deep. Between those two
is a large stone with a water-like surface.

It is none other than the stone in Cheng Qian’s quarter - Qing An

Abode on Fuyao Mountain.

Gu Yanxue is saying something very fast, as he puts one thin hand

on the stone. He shakes his head at the other person, looking full of
worry. The stranger only listens without replying anything.

A strong reaction suddenly rises in Yan Zhengming’s heart. He feels

that there is a strong relationship between him and this stranger, so
he can’t resist pushing his awareness deeper. In a split second, his
eyes are full of stars as his perspective changes. As Yan Zhengming
recovers from the vertigo, he realises Lord Gu is somehow right in
front of him.
Yan Zhengming immediately understands that he is taking the place
of the stranger, as if he is haunting him. Terrified, he wants to get
out, but right at that moment, a great sorrow invades his heart and,
without any warning, pins him where he is like a sharp blade.
In the beginning, Yan Zhengming is still very aware that this intense
emotion isn’t his own, and tries to struggle to escape.

However, this kind of desperate sorrow and deep hatred that can’t be
contained by anything, Yan Zhengming has experienced himself not
long ago. As the emotions from the outside resonate with what is in
his heart, he can no longer resist, and gets pulled into the memory.

What can make a person more lonely and resentful than unfulfilled
wishes that are deeply suppressed, and the pain of every trigger he
has is pressed.

At this moment, a gust of icy energy suddenly floods in and fills Yan
Zhengming with a coldness that cuts to his heart. He suddenly
wakes up, then as everything swirls in front of his eyes, he is
expulsed from the sect leader seal. As he pants desperately, the
sound of thunder is somewhere around him.

Cheng Qian was startled by the thunder. Although it was a good

thing that Yan Zhengming’s cultivation got through a bottleneck,
apparently something was forcing his cultivation to increase
abnormally before he reinforced it. Besides the fact that he nearly
got subjected to a minor heavenly tribulation, a red light flashed
around his eyebrows, indicating that he had been going too fast, and
provoked the demon of his heart.

He didn’t wake up, no matter how much Cheng Qian called for him.
Having no other choice, Cheng Qian had to send a wave of spiritual
energy into his back, to wake him up from his meditative trance.

Seeing as he is still not completely conscious, Cheng Qian wants to

tap his face. However, as soon as Cheng Qian raises his hand, Yan
Zhengming instinctively leans backward.

Cheng Qian awkwardly waves his head in front of Yan Zhengming.

“Senior brother, look carefully. I’m not that thing. I won’t hit you. Have
you woken up yet?”

Yan Zhengming’s ears are filled with a buzzing sound, so he doesn’t

hear Cheng Qian at all. Although his primordial spirit is out of the
seal, he is still oblivious to the outside, as the sorrow still haunts in
his heart.

He suddenly seizes Cheng Qian’s hand and aggressively squeezes

it, as a voice screams mournfully in his heart. “He’s mine. I won’t let
you take him away!”
His strange gaze startles Cheng Qian. He looks like a starving wolf.

In a second, the sound of thunder rises again. Cheng Qian dares not
hesitate any longer. He forms tiny grains of frost in his hand and
shoots them at Yan Zhengming’s forehead, causing the latter’s hair
there to be filled with frost. “Most senior brother!”

Yan Zhengming startles. His gaze softens, his grip loosens, and he
looks up rather confusedly. “Xiao-Qian, what’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t reply. He carefully listens to the outside. Only

when the sound of thunder has faded that he relaxes. With a frown,
he says, “It’s me who should ask you that. Why do you try to raise
your level out of nowhere? You nearly got into a minor heavenly
tribulation. Did you encounter a demon of the heart?”

These words immediately remind Yan Zhenming of the emotional

upheavals he just went through. Feeling uncomfortable, he avoids
Cheng Qian’s eyes and finds an excuse. “Oh, when I was in the sect
leader seal, I ran into a memory fragment. It seemed I got affected
by it.”
Cheng Qian listens carefully to his descriptions, and replies with
certainty. “The person you saw must be Lord Beiming, our disciple
grandfather. Can it be that the ‘old friend’ Lord Gu mentioned is
him?”

Yan Zhengming isn’t surprised by this answer. When he was in the

sect leader seal, he could guess that stranger must have been either
his disciple grandfather or the true form of his Master. He doesn’t
pay much attention to the matter, as his heart is still full of that
strange emotion from a while ago.

Seeing that his face isn’t good, Cheng Qian cuts off the
conversation. “I think you should take a rest?”
Yan Zhengming himself doesn’t feel well, so he listens to the advice
and stands up. “Yeah, I’ll go back to my place and sleep.”

Cheng Qian annoyedly says, “Didn’t you come here to avoid the
heat? You can just sleep here. I’m not fighting you for the bed.”

“No… uh, no need,” Yan Zhengming’s throat immediately goes dry.

He picks a random excuse. “The- the pillow in your place is too
tough. I’m not used to it. I’m going.”

Then, not even looking at Cheng Qian, he runs off.

Cheng Qian summons the pillow to him and squeezes it. All he can
see is that his sect leader and most senior brother keeps getting
more and more unreasonable. What does Yan Zhengming want to
sleep on? A pile of fluffs?

At this moment, a bird the size of a fist charges in like a cannonball

and gets into Cheng Qian’s lap. A girlish voice comes out of the bird.
“Oh, most… Huh? Third Brother, did our most senior brother gift this
place to you?”
It turns out to be Puddle.

Before Cheng Qian can reply, the bird already fluffs up her feathers
and angrily jumps around on his arm. She cries. “I’m so mad! I’m so
mad! I can’t turn back!”

Cheng Qian hasn’t had much contact with women, so he doesn’t feel
comfortable when facing a grown up version of his little disciple
sister. As she is currently in her bird form, he feels much more
relaxed. He asks, “What’s wrong?”

“I ran into an asshole on my way. He wanted me because of my

looks, so he trapped me. I had to chew the net all night to damage it
enough to escape. I don’t know what kind of evil spell is on that net,
but I can’t transform back!” Puddle stomps around, as if to let out her
anger. “I have to burn him to death!”

Cheng Qian reaches out and touches the downy feathers on

Puddle’s head, asking, “Who is that?”

Puddle sullenly rubs his hand. “I don’t know.”

“Let me take you to Second Brother. Maybe he’ll have a solution,”

Cheng Qian says as he rises, “I heard that there has been endless
fighting outside. You shouldn’t go out alone next time.”

Puddle is upset. She hangs her head. “When will I grow up to be a

powerful yao?”

These words are very familiar. Cheng Qian recalls how he used to
be unable to sleep at night, wondering when he would be a powerful
cultivator who could control the elements.
He can’t help the smile on his lips. As he is about to console his little
disciple sister, Puddle already interrupts his line of thinking with her
complaint. “Why am I always harassed in bird form, but no one
would pay attention to me when I’m in human form? Are they all
blind? I’m so mad!”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He senses that maybe he misunderstood why his little sister is angry.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 58

Thanks a lot to MrMissMrsRandom and InkSplatterM as usual!

*******
Li Yun nearly turns Puddle the bird into a bird plucked and ready for
roasting, but he can’t find out why she can’t turn back to her human
form.

Some men are indeed all talk, who look capable normally but are
utterly useless when the situation calls for it.

Puddle sheds feathers all over Li Yun’s head and says angrily, “Why
should I even bother to ask you!”
She commits rebellion against her senior for a while. Then, as she
pants and lands, she seems to remember something and spits out a
sticky piece of paper.

His expression immediately changes, as Yan Zhengming hides his

face behind his fan and steps backward.

“There was no other way,” Puddle angrily says, “I have no hand. Are
you suggesting me to hold it under my wings?”

Yan Zhengming annoyedly says, “Do you need me to get a homing

pigeon here to show you how other birds do it?”
Feeling she is being wronged, Puddle says, “Have you ever seen a
homing pigeon tie a message on its own leg by itself? I didn’t meet
the person sent by Zhe Shi-dage. This thing was left in the bird feed,
which took forever for me to get out. If my eyesight weren’t so good,
I might have missed it.”

The words ‘bird feed’ successfully force her most senior brother to
step back further.

Cheng Qian doesn’t mind it, so he picks up that piece of paper. On it

is a message written in tiny hand. “Entered Celestial Divination
Bureau. This place has tight security. Many mysteries. Be careful if
we meet later.”

Cheng Qian turns to Yan Zhengming in surprise. “Most senior

brother…”

Yan Zhengming’s face is still half-hidden behind his fan, in the pose
of a beautiful lady resisting unwanted advances, but his gaze
sharpens. He says in a low voice, “In the eyes of the world, the
Celestial Divination Bureau is only the place sect-less rogue
cultivators sell themselves in exchange for a position. But it takes
Zhe Shi thirty years to get inside there. They certainly have too many
secrets.”

Closing his fan and clasping his hands behind his back, he
continues. “The mortal world is full of distractions. Theoretically, a
cultivator shouldn’t get involved in it too much in order to progress in
their cultivation. But I keep wondering, wouldn’t those mortal officials
and aristocrats want to keep their youth and prolong their lifespan
after a lifetime of luxury? Wouldn’t the Emperor want to be immortal?
No way I’d believe that those in the court only live for their duties
without dreaming about such things. Otherwise, why would so many
spells and charms and cultivational artifacts appear in a mortal
Prince’s rebellion?”
Puddle asks in a surprised tone, “What does that have to do with
us?”

“Silly bird,” Yan Zhengming pokes her with the handle of his fan,
causing her to fall down. “For whatever reason that I don’t know,
there is already a file about us in the Celestial Divination Bureau.
One hundred years ago, Zhou Hanzheng knew all about our origin. I
don’t want to encounter a second Zhou Hanzheng, so I do
everything so that we can strike first at any time if needs be.”

Throughout the years, Yan Zhengming’s attitude has somehow been

tainted with some killing intent. Sometimes, it is indeed hard to
predict how people may change in life.

Sorrow surges in Cheng Qian’s heart. The longer he is away from

the ice lake, the human emotions in his heart are like a frozen river
that is thawing and slowly becoming normal. Little by little, he feels
sadness again.

He destroys Zhe Shi’s message and pats Yan Zhengming’s back. “I

could kill the first Zhou Hanzheng, so I’ll be able to kill the second
one. Relax.”

He is the one whom Yan Zhengming can’t relax about the most. Yan
Zhengming turns to him and says gravely, “Keep your head down for
me. I haven’t made you answer for pretending not to know the
difference between minor and major heavenly tribulations yet. Don’t
think that... Argh! Cheng Qian! You little shit, where are you
touching?!”

When the sect leader and senior brother realises which hand Cheng
Qian is rubbing on him, his very serious reprimand becomes a
terrible screech.
Donning an innocent face like he knows nothing but righteousness,
Cheng Qian raises his hand and adds oil to the fire. “Just a bit of
saliva. It is already dry.”

Yan Zhengming’s face twists.

Cheng Qian sighs and consoles him. “Don’t be like that, senior
brother, you’re still pure.”
Yan Zhengming: “…”

He finally understands what “it’s better to keep dogs than junior

brothers” is like. In the previous generations, Fuyao Sect declined
because of internal conflicts, which seemed to be not without reason.

As Yan Zhengming is torn between whether to shed his skin to

cleanse himself or teach Cheng Qian a lesson first, the sound of
footsteps comes from the outside.

Everyone in the room is surprised. The smile on Cheng Qian

disappears, as he becomes still like he were just transformed from a
cloud of frost. Puddle too stops talking and flies to the brush carrier,
pretending to be a normal bird.

A few seconds later, an unfamiliar young servant appears at the door

and says respectfully, “Young Master Cheng, there is a letter for
you.”

Yan Zhengming coldly asks, “Since when are you allowed to freely
enter the inner quarters like this?”

The estate has its rules. Besides, the gate and the walls of the inner
quarters all have spells carved on them. Outsiders shouldn’t be able
to get in.
Cheng Qian waves his hand, the letter flies to him. As soon as the
letter leaves his hand, the servant seems to be woken up by a hit
from a staff. Shaking like a leaf, he terrifiedly looks at the lord of the
estate in front of him. Under the cold gaze of Yan Zhengming, he
kneels down and says shakily, “M- my lord, that letter has demonic
charm on it. This- this servant dares not…”

Cheng Qian scans the letter. On it is only written “To my young friend
Cheng Qian”, and signed with “Tang Zhen”.

The seal on the letter has been opened, which gives off a faint scent.
As soon as he smells it, Cheng Qian recognises it to be the resin of
‘sleepwalking’ grass. During his travels across the world, Tang Zhen
has encountered many unusual objects and techniques, and Cheng
Qian has learnt a lot from him.
When the resin of ‘sleepwalking’ grass is mixed with the ink, except
for the intended recipient, anyone who opens the letter with ill intent
will face a backlash. For example, if someone snoops outside the
estate and wants to break into the inner quarters, when that person
touches the ‘sleepwalking’ grass resin, he will be hypnotised to
directly charge into the place.
Yan Zhengming raises his hand to seize the servant. It is just a test,
so he doesn’t use real strength. However, the servant, who has been
acting suspiciously, thinks it is serious, and quickly springs up and
evades it, then runs outside.

As soon as he reaches the door, a shadow lands in front of him and

blocks his path, as the chilly light of Shuang Ren flares up.
“Have we allowed you to leave yet?” Cheng Qian says softly, “Stay.”

The servant tries to fight back at first. However, before he can even
move, he is already terrified by the overwhelming aura of Cheng
Qian, who survived seven rounds of heavenly tribulations. The
servant’s legs buckle, as he prostrates himself on the ground and
stammers. “Please, senior…”

Before he can even finish his plea, the servant’s body stiffens, and
his mouth opens as his head falls backward and splits into two like a
rotten watermelon. Then a grey cloud flies out of his mouth and
strikes at Cheng Qian.

Li Yun yells. “Careful!”

Cheng Qian focuses his gaze. That grey cloud is chilled before it
gets close to him. Like a real person, it retreats to the servant’s body
and covers his head. Within seconds, the servant’s head only has
white bone left, and the cloud disappears.
Cheng Qian lightly pokes at the bone with the tip of his sword. It
turns into chalk powder at the touch. The servant becomes a
headless corpse and quietly falls to a side.

“A trick from demonic cultivation,” Cheng Qian says, “But not

necessarily done by a demonic cultivator. Has this happened
before?”

Yan Zhengming’s face becomes heavy. “No, I haven’t seen this one
before. We know everyone who works in this estate and their history.
During our stay here in nearly ten years, we haven’t met any other
cultivator either.”
Li Yun quickly reacts and asks, “Can it be that someone was
following Xiao-Yuan, and then found our place?”

Back then, it was the ‘drawing on soul’ trick of Zhou Hanzheng that
caused Han Yuan to fall into demonic cultivation. The Celestial
Divination Bureau seems to be involved again.
Puddle immediately dares not say anything else, thinking that it was
lucky that Zhe Shi didn’t meet her.

Li Yun asks quietly, “Most senior brother, do we… have to move

somewhere else?”

As he says these words, he feels rather miserable. It’s nearly

become their habit to be on the run.

Yan Zhangming is silent for a moment. Then he says, “We aren’t

going anywhere.”

Li Yun says, “But…”

Yan Zhengming raises his eyebrow and interrupts him. “Can we hide
all our lives? Actually, I want to see what these pests that can’t cover
their traces can do to me.”

Then, he waves his hand. There is a loud noise that comes from the
main gate.

Startled, Cheng Qian rides Shuang Ren into the air. From the air, he
can see that, out of nowhere, a giant stone stele appears by the
main gate. Hearing the noise, the mortals all gather there and gawk.
It isn’t clear who sees Cheng Qian in the air first, but all mortals in
the estate quickly gets on their knees and beg for protection from the
immortal.

The stone stele ostentatiously proclaims: Fuyao Estate.

Shaking his head, Cheng Qian wonders if this is an impulsive
tantrum of his most senior brother, or an intention that has been
hatched for a while. He quietly takes Tang Zhen’s letter and goes
back to the bamboo grove.
There is nothing important in Tang Zhen’s letter. He only mentions
that Mingming Valley took Liu Lang to him. Because of the
possession by the demonic cultivator Jiang Peng, his soul was
damaged. Fortunately, Cheng Qian’s three ice rods helped him
survive. Compared to other people, it will be much more difficult for
him to follow the path of cultivation, but Tang Zhen will do his best to
help him.

At the end of the letter, there is a line saying that Cheng Qian and
the others shouldn’t show up at Fuyao Mountain too much, because
the area is being closely watched by too many sides.

Cheng Qian’s heart constricts a little, as he feels that the way back
to Fuyao Mountain is endless.

A few days later, Yan Zhengming thoroughly reinforces the spells

around the estate. Then, three humans and one bird follow their
initial plan and depart for Nanjiang. Puddle the bird perches on Li
Yun’s head to urge him to stop dragging it out and quickly come up
with a way to turn her back to human.

This time, they don’t ride their swords at all.

Firstly, this trip to Nanjiang is nothing too urgent. Secondly,

cultivators who have been in seclusion for too long indeed should
rejoin society for some time. As the saying goes, ‘fortune and
misfortune go hand in hand’, ‘to travel on the Way means to undergo
tribulations’, sometimes travelling in mortal society may help
overcome a bottleneck period. Everyone knows this. Most cultivators
indeed put this to practice when they start cultivating. Paradoxically,
the more powerful a cultivator is, the more they stay at home.
The higher one reaches, the narrower the path becomes. The vast
world where a roc crosses thousands of miles will one day turn into a
single-plank bridge, where every step requires careful consideration,
and thus moving forward is scary.
By the looks of things, the stronger someone is, the more cowardly
they are, because they dare not take the risk of falling.
Fuyao Estate is in the Central Plain, which is closer to the north. The
sceneries there are very different from the South.

At the moment, summer is over and autumn is about to begin in

earnest, but the South is still warm and humid, with lots of heavy
rain. Although it’s still a long way to Nanjiang’s territory, Li Yun is
already dazzled by the impressive variety of precious herbs in this
place.

Everyday, with Puddle the bird on his head and a basket on his back,
he wanders into the jungle like a wandering herbalist. From time to
time, he shamelessly takes advantage of his junior sister’s power,
and orders her to take precious materials of nature from the little yao
that haven’t yet gained intelligence.

Li Yun’s excuse is to make “antitoxin” pills to deal with the

inhospitable environment of Nanjiang.

However, as Cheng Qian sees it, with how Li Yun picks the herbs, it
would be enough not just for making medicines, but even for cooking
daily meals.

Unable to correct his Second Brother’s improper manners, Yan

Zhengming acts like he doesn’t know him. Everyday, he pretends to
be mortal and drags Cheng Qian to mix in with the crowd in town.
This is an unreasonable demand. From a young age, Cheng Qian
prefers quietness to the hustle and bustles. Because of his long
seclusion in the ice lake, he hasn’t been in contact with a crowd for a
long time. The daily mingling with so many people takes a toll on
him.
However, for whatever reason, Yan Zhengming acts like a baby that
hasn’t been weaned and thus clings to its mother. Whenever he
doesn’t see Cheng Qian, he will kick up a fuss, which is really
annoying.

To investigate the Nightmare Travellers, they stay in a small border

town in the outskirts of Nanjiang. However, after more than half a
month, they can’t find any trace of demonic cultivators here.

Can’t it be that normally, these Nightmare Travellers are like delicate,

sheltered young ladies who wouldn’t leave their home?

These demonic cultivators turn out to be very similar to their sect

leader and senior brother.
Unafraid of being robbed or appearing crass, Yan Zhengming hires
the best rooms in the only tavern in town. Everyday, he doesn’t
bother to ask for the menu, but simply orders the most expensive
dishes. From head to toe, everything about him says ‘rich young
master’.

Since it isn’t easy to have such a customer, the owner of the

establishment serves him like his own ancestor. The customs around
Nanjiang are pretty relaxed, there is little reservation in interaction
between the sexes. The owner orders his own daughter to ensure
that they have everything they want, so that nothing is amiss.
No matter how delicious and appetizing-looking the food served to
their table is, Cheng Qian doesn’t touch it at all. He just holds a glass
of cold water and waits on the side the whole time.

The owner’s daughter carefully watches his expression, then uses all
of her courage and strikes a conversation with him. “Young master, is
there something not to your taste?”
Cheng Qian treats his family and outsiders differently. Towards
outsiders, he is always polite and quiet. If he doesn’t have to gather
information, he won’t start a conversation on his own, looking as
aloof as a block of ice.

In the present, with Yan Zhengming around, he is even lazier in

dealing with other people, so he replies simply. “No. Thank you.”

The courage that the owner’s daughter managed to gather with

difficulty immediately disappears. She dares not bother him
anymore. Instead she turns to Yan Zhengming and smiles
conciliatorily. “Young masters, you come here at an unfortunate time.
If you’re here just a few days later, the weather may be cooler. It’ll be
less crowded too.”
Yan Zhengming asks, “Oh, is there any scenic spot around here that
should be visited this time of the year?”

The owner’s daughter says, “Yes, the relic Vermillion Bird Tower is
not far from here. They are all heading there.”

Yan Zhengming surprisedly asks, “Vermillion Bird Tower? You mean

one of Four Sages Xu Yingzhi… I mean, Senior?”

He only knows that Xu Yingzhi lived in the South, but not the precise
location of Vermillion Bird Tower. He doesn’t expect to encounter it.
The owner’s daughter nods and says, “Indeed, the lord of Vermillion
Bird Tower already passed away more than a hundred years ago,
leaving behind a building and a loyal servant. Following the will of his
master, every year on the fifteenth of the eighth month1, in the pure
moonlit night, the servant will open the tower to wait for the fateful
person. Every year, people will come to try their luck. Even if they
aren’t ‘the fateful person’ and can’t enter the tower, the servant may
give them some tips when he is in the mood. Heh, although the
Vermillion Bird Tower no longer has its owner, it isn’t that easy to get
in there. Young masters, you two are obviously from good families.
You shouldn’t mix with these vagabond cultivators. They fight with
each other and cause such as mess that even the local officials can’t
do anything about them.”
They have stayed there for quite a few days without finding any clue
about the Nightmare Travellers already, so they don’t want to tarry
any longer. Unexpectedly, they stumble upon the Vermillion Bird
Tower of the Four Sages.

Can it be that there is a fortune in misfortune?

At the same time, however, there is doubt in Yan Zhengming’s heart.

After learning that the ‘earth’ layer may be related to the Four Sages,
he pays a lot of attention to rumours about them, but he places the
Vermillion Bird Tower at the bottom place.

The reason is none other than this: the owner of Vermillion Bird
Tower Xu Yingzhi was killed by Lord Beiming.

*******

1. The fifteenth day of the eighth month: Mid-Autumn Festival. In

general in the lunar calendar, the fifteenth day of each month is the
full moon day.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 59

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the edits.

*******
Yan Zhengming hesitates a little.
Although he doesn’t say anything. Cheng Qian already sees the
doubt in his heart. The fact is, Cheng Qian is good at reading
people’s expressions most of the time. He just doesn’t usually
mention it, or takes notes of what he sees.

Noticing that his most senior brother is hesitating, Cheng Qian

suggests. “If you want to check it out, let’s go find the others now.”
Yan Zhengming sits without moving in silence for a while. Then he
suddenly says out of nowhere. “Our disciple grandfather was
devoted to our sect until death. Even if his body and soul were
shattered, he sent his three souls into the coins, to shield our sect
from disasters. The battle in the Valley of the Yao, the destruction of
the Soul-Consuming Lamp… Even if he went mad from qi deviation,
he didn’t look like a cruel criminal. If you were our Master, for the
sake of those sentiments, would you bury him under a tree too?”

After a moment of silence, Cheng Qian doesn’t answer the question

directly, but asks Yan Zhengming back, “What about Xiao-Yuan? If
we really find him in Nanjiang, what are you going to do?”

Yan Zhengming frowns, as he falls back to silence.

Whatever path Han Yuan took afterwards, back then he didn’t kill
Cheng Qian out of his own will. A victim of the ‘soul drawing’
technique would cut himself apart without being aware of it. Han
Yuan had no way to resist. Yan Zhengming is aware of all that, but
he still can’t get over the incident.
At this moment, a small voice in his heart asks, “What about the
other way around? What if the victim of the ‘soul drawing’ technique
had been Xiao-Qian?”

As soon as this thought appears, Yan Zhengming can’t resist

thinking so deeply that he falls into a trance.

He slowly turns his gaze to Cheng Qian. To tell the truth, Cheng Qian
doesn’t look very different from his teenage years. He is just a bit
taller, his face and figure more mature, but his features are the
same. However, a strange feeling rises in Yan Zhengming’s heart
whenever he looks closely at Cheng Qian.
Initially he thought it was unfamiliarity caused by the long separation,
but then he realises that isn’t really the case. Whenever he closes
his eyes, he regrets that he can’t recall precisely how many
eyelashes Cheng Qian has.

Theoretically, shouldn’t people stop reacting to the people or things

they are familiar with?

Yan Zhengming on the other hand realises that as time goes on, he
no longer dares to stare directly at Cheng Qian, lest his eyes are
burnt.
“If it had been Cheng Qian back then, I wouldn’t let him run into the
sea and disappear,” After a long while, Yan Zhengming comes to
that conclusion. He inwardly sighs and feels a bit guilty, because he
is being really unfair.
As Yan Zhengming thinks everything through, his eyes can’t help
being a little dim. Cheng Qian is reminded of how the demon of the
heart flashed on his forehead in the bamboo grove that day, and
suddenly feels upset.
“He shouldn’t have to carry these troublesome matters,” Cheng Qian
thinks. “Whatever problems that may occur, I can deal with it. Why
should he trouble himself like this?”

It’s enough that his most senior brother went through such sufferings
for a hundred years. Cheng Qian decides, from now on Yan
Zhengming can relax and enjoy himself, then act like a sect leader
and boss everyone around whenever he feels like it. Cheng Qian
has survived seven rounds of heavenly tribulations, why shouldn’t he
be able to carry the shaky foundation of the Fuyao Sect?

“Let’s go. With the ‘earth’ layer in the sect leader seal, we’ll have to
visit Vermillion Bird Tower sooner or later anyway,” Cheng Qian says,
as he stands up and pulls Yan Zhengming along.

Because of that unspeakable reason, every time Cheng Qian’s hand

passes by his face, Yan Zhengming can’t help tensing up, so he
instinctively stops Cheng Qian’s hand by grabbing it.

Cheng Qian’s fingertips are cold, only his palm has a faint warmth,
but the touch feels like it can burn.

Wearing a straight face, Yan Zhengming trembles a little, feeling

unwilling to release Cheng Qian’s hand.

Cheng Qian pays no attention to that. With a ‘tsk’, he seizes the

hand that wears the ring with the coin mounting of ‘Money Hunting
Young Master’, then forcefully pulls out that absurd ring and puts it in
his sleeve. He says with a sigh. “Fine, fine, no one is slapping you
this time. To make such an imitation spirit to carry with you, you
really have too much time on your hands.”

His hand suddenly becoming empty, Yan Zhengming feels a sense

of loss in his heart, while Cheng Qian gets up to leave the tavern.

Being left behind, Yan Zhengming longingly moves his fingers, as

the cool sensation from the past minutes still lingers on his fingertips.
He senses that he isn’t acting normally.
Can it be that the weather is too hot, while Cheng Qian’s hand is
cool, so Yan Zhengming can use that to avoid the heat?
Cheng Qian is already at the door. Seeing that Yan Zhengming is
staying on the spot, he confusedly turns and asks, “Senior brother,
what are you doing there?”

Yan Zhengming hesitantly says, “I… uhm, it’s a bit too hot…”

He curses himself for his inability to talk properly. Xiao-Qian is no

stranger. When they were young, that boy would roll on his bed after
practicing swordplay without even taking a bath first for so many
times. Why can’t he be straightforward and say ‘Come here and lend
me the cool aura’?

At most Cheng Qian would just give him a glare!

However, Yan Zhengming can’t get these words out of his mouth.
His inability to say anything is only a small problem, compared to
how his heart is like a wild horse that escapes the reins. His thoughts
uncontrollably race to increasingly strange scenarios, and he has the
vision of him pulling Cheng Qian into his arms.
That vision seems so real!
Yan Zhengming can’t help trembling inside. This is too unusual.
Can’t it be that the demon of the heart he encountered the last time
he cultivated his energy still hasn’t gone away?
Right then, a mysterious longing surges in his heart.

He is really full of disquiet, which makes him want to tear his hair out.

“Damn it, why am I acting like a girl longing for spring in those
legends?” Yan Zhengming feels like he is struck by lightning, and his
soul has left his body. He stands on the spot for a long while, as his
heart lets out a feeble scream. “By the heavens, I must be entering
qi deviation.”
His soul having fled from his body, Sect Leader Yan follows Cheng
Qian, as they leave the small town and follow the mountain vein in
the wilderness to find the place with the most spiritual energy on the
mountain. Before they can find Li Yun, they hear voices arguing in a
distance.

From afar, they can see an ostentatious carriage with flying horses.
The carriage is decorated with countless treasures and fluttering silk
curtains, making the surrounding feel like a rain of flower petals is
about to pour down.

Ordinary people can’t afford to keep flying horses like this. Only
wealthy sects like Mingming Valley have the resources for them.
Furthermore, cultivators who reach ‘concentrate the mind’ level can
ride on objects. It’s normal for powerful cultivators to travel
thousands of miles a day, ignoring the cold winds in the sky. To sit in
a flying horse carriage like this to travel, the person either has too
low cultivation to ride on objects, or wishes to show off.

Whatever the case, the one in the carriage is certainly nothing

special.

The cover of the carriage is very thin, with silk curtains embroidered
with spells hanging. Inside is a young man, who is languidly leaning
to one side. He has handsome features, but his beauty is of an
indecent kind. On his left eyelid is a mole of cinnabar colour, which
gives him an indescribable air of aggression.

The flying horse carriage is followed by at least a dozen cultivators.

At first glance, they don’t seem to be weak. In addition, there are two
older men, whose hair and beard are all white, on the left and the
right of the carriage. Their sleeves fluttering, these two men are
surrounded by a formidable aura. They are likely at the level of
having formed their primordial spirits or higher.

The person who is being surrounded by these people like a prey

stalked by a tiger is none other than Li Yun, who looks like a barefoot
herbalist.
Li Yun is intelligent. However, he is unfortunately too easily
distracted, which is not good for cultivation. In the past, he was
spurred by Cheng Qian’s presence a little. Later, when he followed
Yan Zhengming in their wanderings, he became completely focused
on creating all kinds of artifacts. Therefore, his cultivation is always
mediocre, neither good or bad. He has been stuck at the threshold of
nearly forming his primordial spirit for ten years without making any
breakthrough, but he doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

Floating on his head, Puddle puffs up her feathers and yells at the
rich young man in the carriage, “Who is ‘that bird’? It’s you who are a
bird with your wizened face! Even if I were a real bird, I have my own
family. You dare to bring your household here to rob other people,
how shameless!”

It can be seen that the young man in the carriage isn’t a reasonable
person. However, he really thinks that Puddle is a little bird that can
talk rudely, so he doesn’t mind her insults. On the contrary, he finds it
amusing, and says to Li Yun with a smile, “Daoyu, you follow the
path of medicines, don’t you? I heard that path requires
concentration the most, any disturbance would be bad. Won’t this
bird just make noise around you? Besides, the path of medicines
isn’t easy. It costs a lot to buy herbs. Daoyu, you must be regularly
embarrassed because your money pouch is empty, right?”
Although Li Yun is actually good looking, his clothes are quite
shabby. Furthermore, he has been wandering in the wilderness of
Nanjiang for quite a while. At this moment, he carries a worn basket
on his shoulders, and the legs of his pants are rolled up unevenly,
with mud splattered all over him. He really looks like a penniless sod.

“I’ll give you a thousand tael of gold and three powerful talisman
bases,” The one in the carriage, who must be the scion of a wealthy
family, says, “The Vermillion Bird Tower is about to open. Many
cultivators have gathered here. If you need any materials, you can
exchange these three talisman bases for what you want with them.
Just sell this bird to me.”

Hearing that, Li Yun doesn’t reply, as if he is really swayed by this

price.
Puddle immediately panics. Her Second Brother is spineless on top
of having no principle. He can really sell her off. Thus, she raises a
storm on his head. “You! If you dare sell me, our sect leader will
break your leg!”

Scions of rich families aren’t all the same. With those like her most
senior brother, although they may commit domestic violence, they’re
still reasonable most of the time.

The one in this carriage is completely different. Although he acts

friendly, the fact is that he doesn’t give them any opening. He has
already ordered his underlings to surround Li Yun and her, ready to
commit robbery if the sale doesn’t go through.
Li Yun glances around and groans inside.

He grabs Puddle, who is sputtering, and whispers, “Little sister, how

about I sell you first, then return to find reinforcement and take you
back?”

He isn’t too worried for Puddle. Although she isn’t very smart, she
knows her limits very well. For example, when her most senior
brother is absent and she has no one to protect her, she won’t
intentionally anger other people.
As Puddle angrily pecks him, Li Yun says with a sorrowfully
thoughtful expression, “Forget it, you aren’t worth a thousand tael of
gold. Alas, why do I have to be a senior brother?”
He touches Puddle’s beaks so that she won’t talk, then clasps his
hands and says as if facing a tough dilemma, “Young master, you
are very generous. The problem is, you already see what my little
beast is like. It’s difficult in both personality and upkeep. If it angers
you… Alas, it’s still a living being.”

The rich young master in the carriage seems to get impatient, as Li

Yun keeps refusing to give up the bird. As if unwilling to waste time
with Li Yun further, he urges, “I spend so much money to buy it, of
course I’ll treat it well. Just say yes or no.”

Before he even finishes, Puddle sees something. She struggles to

escape Li Yun’s hand and flies away.

Seeing that, one of the cultivators wants to stop her. As he raises his
hand, a sphere of spiritual energy forms in the air.

At this moment, a chill runs along that cultivator’s spine, as a flash of

sword energy sweeps by him with perfect precision. The sword user
doesn’t seem to go for a sneak attack, because that cultivator isn’t
injured at all. Only his sphere of spiritual energy is crushed. Then the
sword energy dissipates, which chills even the summer sun rays
around it.
All of them turn their heads. From afar, two people are approaching,
and reach the spot in a blink of an eye. The two elders that
accompany the flying horse carriage suddenly harden their face.
Moving to the front of the group, they ask warily, “Daoyu, where are
you two going?”

Since before she can talk, Puddle the bird has the special talent to
“find the most reliable person when in trouble”. She goes straight into
Cheng Qian’s hand. All of her earlier mouthy aggression is nowhere
to be seen, as she recounts her sufferings. “It’s that asshole who set
the net to catch me that day, making me end up like this. Now he
clings like a bad ghost and follows me here. That Li vagabond is
tempted by money and plans to sell me!”
The Li ‘vagabond’: “…”

Cheng Qian covers Puddle, as he glances through the one in the

carriage, then stops his gaze on the two elders in the front.

As Li Yun is worried that Cheng Qian will say something needlessly

aggressive, he nods slightly to the group in greetings. Although his
attitude can’t be considered warm, he is at least courteous.

“Thank you for your kind regard for our little bird,” Cheng Qian says
slowly, “However, it has been with us for a long time, in addition to
being sentient. To us, it is pretty much a family member, not a pet.
Therefore, we can’t sell it. Apologies.”

Next to him, Yan Zhengming doesn’t say anything. He observes

carefully that expensive-looking carriage, and quietly decides to
acquire some flying horses once they return to their estate. Although
the horses won’t be actually useful, they are still good for riding
around and showing off.

In the past, Cheng Qian used to be ready to pick a fight if he was

annoyed by someone’s words. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean he
loved fighting. He just didn’t know any other way.

In the present, his cultivation is enough to do what he wants in the

Nine Provinces. With Shuang Ren in his hands, he isn’t afraid of
anything. Thus, he becomes more courteous in dealing with other
people. His words are devoid of flattery or arrogance. His tone is
apathetic, as he carefully shelters the mouthy bird in his hand, but
what he says is reasonable.

The young man in the carriage looks down at Cheng Qian and
frowns. “You people want to try your luck at Vermilion Bird Tower
too?”

With just a glance, Cheng Qian can already tell that this one is likely
stuck at ‘concentrating the mind’ level. He thinks, “Think you can
control us?”

However, to avoid more trouble, he still replies. “Our destination is

Nanjiang. We are just passing by this place. If we have the chance to
pay a visit to Vermilion Bird Tower, it’ll be a pleasant surprise.”

Seeing that the young man in the carriage doesn’t seem to be aware
of their situation, one of the elders in front of the carriage can’t help
turning back and advising him something in a low voice.

However, perhaps it’d be better if the elder didn’t say anything at all.
Before he even finishes, the young man is already pissed off. He
points at the elder and says, “What’s the point of my family keeping
you? Being afraid of even vagabond cultivators on the road! I want
that bird, so what!”
That cultivator is rich in age and a powerful cultivator in his own right,
so he is used to being respected and flattered anywhere he goes.
His face darkens, as he is shouted at by a mere whelp in front of
everyone like that.

After pulling Puddle, who is enjoying some coolness in summer, out

of Cheng Qian’s hand, Yan Zhengming finally feels relaxed again.
Taking the time to look around, he comments in a low voice. “It’s rare
to meet an even bigger asshole than I.”

No one can find any word to respond to such self-awareness from

him.

Having said that, Yan Zhengming signals Li Yun, then raises his
voice. “As he said, we won’t sell it. Everyone, let’s go.”

Then, he doesn’t even bother to ride his sword. His spiritual energy
directly turns into a sword and takes him into the air, his sword will
emanating from his body.

The two elders at primordial spirit level exchange glances with each
other, looking wary. There are many cultivators who use swords, but
not everyone can claim to be a cultivator of the sword. A true sword
cultivator can turn his primordial spirit into a powerful sword, which
can’t be distinguished with a real one when sent outside.

It is very difficult for a sword cultivator to form their primordial spirit.

Heavenly luck, favourable environment, and personal ability, they
can’t lack anything. A hundred years may not be enough for that
process. This person is still young but already has such an
achievement. His potential is probably immeasurable.

Sword cultivators are rare. Those who have had some success are
usually wildly arrogant. Someone who has Yan Zhengming’s ability
but is still willing to talk properly to his juniors is already very
courteous. However, this rich young master who can’t even ride a
sword is born unwilling to see anything. Feeling slighted, he angrily
says, “If you’re all so useless, I’ll do it myself.”

Before the two elders can stop him, a small flag, which is full of
garish spells on it like a spirit-summoning flag, already flies out from
the young man’s sleeve. Whatever sacred artifact it is, it seems to
not require the user to have high cultivation. Within seconds, it
swallows the whole place around it and forms a small world of its
own!
 Liu Yao - Chapter 60

Thanks MrMissMrsRandom for editing and InkSplatterM for English help!

*******
Yan Zhengming can crush the dumbass in the carriage with only one
finger. About the two elders at primordial spirit level who sacrifice
their honour to accompany him, though they look powerful, there is
no need to worry about them.
With a glance, it can be seen that those two elders are advanced in
age. For cultivators, if their cultivation level progresses on par with
their age, when they don’t have any special taste, their appearance
will stay in their twenties or forties, like Lord Gu and Lord Beiming.
When a cultivator looks aged, that means their lifespan is about to
end, while their cultivation cannot progress further, like Lord of the
Western Palace Bai Ji. Accordingly, these elders have been stuck at
one level for too long. When they can’t overcome that threshold, their
power is only that much.

Furthermore, even if they are cultivators who have formed their

primordial spirits, that’s just an indicator of cultivation level. There is
a saying that the Great Way has thousands of paths, which are all
different, but all share a destination. ‘Cultivation level’ can mean
different things. Having a high cultivation level doesn’t necessarily
mean being good at combat. For example, against the cultivators
who prefer to stick around the medicine brewer while having
mediocre swordplay like Li Yun, even if they have formed three
primordial spirits, Yan Zhengming can easily mop the floor with
them.
This is also why people don’t want to mess with sword cultivators.
From the day they enter the Tao, they are made for fighting.

Fortunately, Yan Zhengming isn’t like other sword cultivators. Before

he became a cultivator, he had been a spoiled scion of a wealthy
family. After he became a cultivator, he had to assume the great
burden of being a sect leader. He doesn’t like looking for pointless
trouble. Besides, Cheng Qian is enough of a pain for him. He really
doesn’t want to drag out this mess with these clowns anymore.

Although the people in front of him are nothing special, the spoiled
brat has a flying horse carriage. For such a useless asshole to have
such an entourage, to the point that even cultivators with primordial
spirits have to listen to him, he is likely from the main line of some
important sect. One has to watch out whose dog one hits. It won’t do
them any good if Fuyao Estate, whose position is shaky enough,
gets into a feud because of this trivial matter.
Unfortunately, things don’t go as Yan Zhengming wishes. Today they
depart without checking the calendar1, and run into a dumb asshole.

As soon as the strange flag of that spoiled brat appears, it

immediately gets out of the control of its owner, and charges like a
storm, which suppresses the energy of everyone around. A heavy
and ancient aura emanates from it.

Li Yun doesn’t even bother to evade it. His eyes light up, as he says
greedily, “Wow, this- this is the legendary “True Dragon Flag”?”

Although no one asks about it, Li Yun rambles on. “It’s an ancient
artifact, even older than our Third Brother’s Sword of Terrible Death.
It’s reputedly made from the hide of a true sea dragon, and the
flagpole is a piece of dragon spine. It carries the power of the divine
dragon of old, hence the name ‘true dragon’! Even if you’re as
powerful as the sea and your mind is bright as the sun and the
moon, you still have to tremble in its presence. Legend says that at
the wielder’s wish, the flag can cover the sky and move
mountains…”

Hearing him ramble on, Yan Zhengming gets a headache. He yells

with a chilly expression. “Shut up!”

Then he throws Puddle the bird to Li Yun and turns to the two elders.
“We didn’t start this.”

The two elders helplessly look at each other. One of them goes to
hold the spoiled brat on the carriage back. The other acts as a
mediator to soothe Yan Zhengming. “Daoyu, please be patient. Our
young master is the only son. He is both young and used to getting
his ways, so it can’t be helped that he is a bit difficult. Well, if this bird
is that precious, we can negotiate the price a bit more…”

The first part of the speech is still reasonable enough. The second
part makes Sect Leader Yan lose his temper.

In his childhood, he too enjoyed an immense wealth such that he

spent money like water. Afterwards, the Yan family fell, and the
home base of his sect had to be avoided, he experienced a period of
suffering due to critical lack of money. In the present, he assumes
the persona of ‘Money Hunting Young Master’, who is willing to risk
his life for money in the black market. Having been through such
highs and lows, Yan Zhengming has a complicated feeling about
‘wealth’.

Long story short, he can show off, but he can’t stand other people
showing off. He especially hates it when other people use money to
push him around.
He growls. “I told you! We won’t sell it! Which part of it you don’t
understand?”

Unable to hold it in anymore, he attacks the True Dragon Flag.

As long as the dragon soul exists in the True Dragon Flag, once it is
released, the flag wielder can shake the world even if he is just a
mortal. It’s obvious how much this dumb brat’s family spoils him. At
this moment, provoked by Yan Zhengming’s sword will, the dragon
flag releases more than ten rays of lightning. The lightning clashes
with the sword will in the air, causing a great explosion that stuns
everyone.
Yan Zhengming’s face pales. He has to withdraw a few steps, as he
feels that his spiritual energy is suppressed by the draconic aura.

At this moment, he heard the sound of a weapon being unsheathed

from behind. As the cold aura that is becoming familiar fills the area,
Cheng Qian says from that direction. “I’ve been in seclusion for too
long, so my knowledge is limited. I’ve lived until now without ever
encountering a true dragon soul. Senior brother, let me have a look.”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming is at a loss at first. Then his anger

burns even hotter as he thinks. “In the past this brat never bothered
to talk to me, he’d just go ahead and fight. Where did he learn this
nonsense? In his eyes, have I turned from ‘useless most senior
brother’ to ‘useless most senior brother who needs sweet talking’?”
He has been willing to fight the awareness of generations of powerful
cultivators in the sect leader seal. Why should he be afraid of a
snake with antlers that has been dead for eight thousand years?
Without saying anything, Yan Zhengming immediately turns into a
sword image that shines like snow. Thousands of swords formed
from his primordial mind unflinchingly charge at the lightning rays in
the air. As the sword energy and the lightning collide, countless
explosions break out, making all animals in the area run away out of
fright. In the clouds, neither the divine sea dragon nor the sword
cultivator who is going berserk is willing to concede first, causing
dark clouds to gather as if a storm is forming.
The spoiled brat on the carriage is terrified. Usually, whenever he
takes out the True Dragon Flag, the other side will kneel down and
beg for mercy. Who could expect that, when facing a powerful
opponent, that flag gets out of control and causes such a scene? At
this moment, he completely depends on the protection of the two
cultivators with primordial spirits. All he can do is shaking like a leaf,
as he is completely soaked from the torrent caused by the True
Dragon Flag.

Besides the two cultivators with primordial spirit, the unlucky sods
around the carriage are all flattened on the ground and unable to
stand up because of the sword will and the draconic aura.
Being forgotten on the sidelines, Cheng Qian stands firmly and
watches the battle. Awkwardness shows on his face, as he doesn’t
know if he said anything wrong.

Seeing this situation, Puddle hastily hides in the sleeve of her

Second Brother. She wisely decides to behave and resist arguing
with her sect leader and senior brother.

Is her most senior brother undergoing the monthly uncomfortable

days? He sure has a temper!

The dragon soul looks at the sky and howls. Heedless of the razor-
sharp wind and frost around him, which tears his fluttering sleeves,
Yan Zhengming pushes the protective spiritual energy around his
body to the limit. The countless swords formed by the spiritual
energy merge into one force. Soaking in the power of the thunder
and wind, he tears apart the clouds like a god battling a god. His
ferocity completely undiminished by the torrential rain, Yan
Zhengming’s sword image charges directly at the dragon soul.

His gaze fixed on the scene, Cheng Qian says in a low voice,
“‘Forming the blade’... Our most senior brother has reached this level
already?”

According to the lore, for a sword cultivator, ‘forming the blade’ is the
first stage of forging oneself into a sword, where they begin to truly
reach the mystic knowledge of the sword, which can’t be taught with
words to another person.
A cultivator who can go this far deserves to be counted in the ranks
of the most powerful cultivators.

“From what I know, he was still a step behind when he fought

before,” Li Yun gives Cheng Qian a meaningful look. “He is likely
pressured by you.”

That line stuns Cheng Qian speechless. He instinctively wants to

protest the idea, but he changes his mind, sensing that it is really the
case.

With a heavy expression, he thinks a bit then asks, “Then… the mark
of the demon of the heart on his forehead, is it because of me too?”
At that moment, there is an angry growl, as Yan Zhengming’s sword
pierces the dragon soul.

Li Yun hastily yells, “Hey, most senior brother, it’s the True Dragon
Flag. There is only one such flag around. Don’t waste it! Shit, there is
a fracture in the dragon spine. Have some mercy, please!”
Yan Zhengming turns a deaf ear to his plea, as if determined to send
both the dragon flag and the dragon soul to the underworld.
Li Yun looks at Cheng Qian expectantly.

Cheng Qian doesn’t move. Nor does he say anything. Having no

other choice, Li Yun has to say, “Xiao-Qian, dead people can’t return
to life, but you’re the exception. When the person of one’s past
returns, one will feel such fear and guilt that you may not be aware
of. Those sentiments are so heavy, that one may lose sleep at night.
They may change one’s outlook in life too. One hundred years have
passed, how can everything stay easy like the past? I can’t tell how
many years he has hated himself because of you. Don’t add to that,
will you?”

Although Cheng Qian has an exterior of ice, his mind is full of

understanding. With his natural intelligence, how can he not get what
is going on when Li Yun has spelled it out.
With the ‘forming the blade’ power, the table has turned on the battle
in the air. The dragon soul, which was so menacing before, has to
gradually withdrawn, as if pressed by Yan Zhengming. Before long, it
cannot hold up any more and turn to run back to the flag.
At this point, Cheng Qian turns into a shooting star and charges into
the space covered by the Dragon Flag. Under the thunder and wind,
all of the rain that falls on him becomes frost. The primordial spirit
that was formed against all odds in the Spirit Collection Jade sweeps
out and precisely reaches the dragon soul, which is about to hide in
the True Dragon Flag.

The injured dragon soul is quickly suppressed by Cheng Qian’s

primordial spirit, and becomes frozen mid-air.

The tip of Yan Zhengming’s sword, which was about to touch the
True Dragon Flag, immediately stops. The killing aura lingering on in
his face, he stares fixedly at Cheng Qian in silence.
Appearing not to notice it, Cheng Qian smiles and says, “Look,
Second Brother is drooling over the flag. He sends me here
especially to plead to you. Most senior brother, please have some
mercy.”

I’m so pissed, Yan Zhengming thinks. However, he cannot stay

angry for long when facing Cheng Qian, who rarely smiles. The chilly
killing intent on his body and the demon of the heart that has been
lurking on his forehead finally disperses, leaving the ‘forming the
blade’ aura on him. However, he doesn’t appreciate at all the fact
that he has set one foot into the realm of the mystic knowledge of the
sword. On the contrary, he annoyedly curses himself, Looks like I let
him trick me to let things slide again. How useless I am.

Yan Zhengming withdraws all sword aura around him, and glares at
Cheng Qian. “Li Yun wants everything. He is only good at collecting
junks.”

Cheng Qian rolls his sleeve and brings the dragon soul, which is
frozen mid-air, back to the True Dragon Flag. As the flag flops, the
thunder and wind that have been raging in the air immediately quiet,
as if what happened earlier was just an illusion. Cheng Qian carefully
rolls up the flag. As his fingers brush at the dragon spine fractured by
Yan Zhengming, he can feel the dragon soul in it trembling slightly.

It is no less than a divine beast, yet it has fallen to this state. Is it

because of the fickle heavenly will or what?

The Heaven and Earth are inhumane. They treat everything like
dirt2.

Perhaps to the Path of Heaven, the so-called divine dragons and

extraordinary talents are nothing more than ants, aren’t they?
That thought makes him feel lost and sorrowful.
Throwing the True Dragon Flag to Li Yun, Cheng Qian glances at the
flying horse carriage on the ground. The flying horses have escaped
their reins and disappeared. He wonders how this spoiled brat will
get back. Will his dogs carry him on their swords?

Yan Zhengming condescendingly says, “Seeing as you wish to make

peace, we have no other choice but to receive this gift.”

Next to him, Li Yun smiles conciliatorily and follows that lead. “Yes,
yes, thank you, thank you.”

The two cultivators with primordial spirits on the other side can see it
clearly. This sword cultivator has reached the ‘forming the blade’
level. The other cultivator could suppress the dragon soul with his
primordial spirit. Although the dragon soul was injured, and thus the
act was rather opportunistic, it is still a true dragon from ancient
times.

How can one recklessly provoke such people? Even if one is on the
losing side, there is no other way but to accept it.

One of the elders clasps his hands and says, “Daoyu, may I ask
which sect you’re from?”
Hearing that, Puddle, who has been hiding in Li Yun’s sleeve, peeks
out and cuts in. “Why should we tell you? For you to take revenge on
us later?”
The elder is speechless, looking very embarrassed.

Normally, Puddle wouldn’t dare talk like that to a cultivator who has
formed his primordial spirit. However, her senior brothers are all
here, so she takes the rare opportunity to show off. In high spirits,
she flies out to perch on Cheng Qian. It’s still safest to go with her
Third Brother. In this respect, her most senior brother is only second
place.
Suddenly, her leg is tied up by a string as fine as spider thread. It’s
Yan Zhengming, who shoots out that thread from his fingertip.
“Noisy.”

Afterwards, pulling his little sister along like a kite, Sect Leader Yan
arrogantly leads the group to leave the site.

Although he ran into trouble outside the town and became “the Li
vagabond”, Li Yun is utterly happy like a beggar who comes across a
great treasure, as he holds the True Dragon Flag with both hands.
Caressing the torn part of the dragon skeleton, he cheerfully
comments. “As expected of our Xiao-Qian…”

Before Cheng Qian says anything, Yan Zhengming already growls.

“Who is yours?”
As soon as these words are spoken, Li Yun, Puddle, and Cheng
Qian all stare at him. Li Yun teases. “Most senior brother, are you
trying to monopolise his favour?”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Terrified by the threatening aura of his sect leader and senior

brother, Li Yun immediately runs off and keeps a good distance
away.

Assuming a serious expression in an effort to save what is left of his

appearance, Yan Zhengming tells Cheng Qian. “Let’s go to
Vermillion Bird Tower right away. We shouldn’t wait until the fifteenth
of the eighth moon. There’ll be many people around then, so we may
run into troubles. What are you staring at? Don’t do that!”

Cheng Qian obediently turns his gaze downward. If he weren’t

smiling, it’d look more convincing.
It is with great sorrow that Yan Zhengming discovers there is no way
to save his honour, so he sulkily leaves Cheng Qian behind and
walks ahead by himself without looking back.

After they have left, the spoiled brat on the flying horse carriage
angrily stomps his feet. He wasn’t just humiliated, but the True
Dragon Flag was also taken from him.

This asshole is a champion in not learning his lessons. He quickly

forgets how he shakily hid behind the two powerful elders, and
pushes at those two seniors without any respect, yelling, “Useless!
You’re all useless! If my father knew about this…”

The two elders with primordial spirits both sigh. One of them says,
“Young master, please calm down. We’re close to the Vermillion Bird
Tower. Please watch your words and deeds. If someone knows
about our identity, there can be trouble.”

“Fuck off! You can’t even deal with vagabond cultivators. What’s the
use of my father keeping you?” The spoiled brat flops in the carriage.
He glances and points at the cultivators who fell down earlier. “You
lost my horses, so you have to pull the carriage in place of the
horses for me! I must have that talking bird. Don’t let me see those
vagabonds again!”

This spoiled brat is used to humiliating other people. Although he

demands cultivators who have reached the level of ‘concentrating
the mind’ and above to act like horses for him, no one dares to say
anything. The cultivator who is pointed at only stands up and
respectfully tries to calm him down.

At this moment, an all-black snake the size of a finger, which blends

into the surrounding dirt, slowly emerges from the forest behind
them. It quietly crawls to the carriage. As the cultivators are all
bossed around by the spoiled brat, none of them notices the snake.
The little snake opens its mouth, a pitch-black tongue peaking out.
Then its body evaporates into the air and quickly enters the back of
the spoiled brat on the carriage.

A cultivator standing close to the spoiled brat, who is trying with all
his might to dissuade him from causing further trouble, sees that the
spoiled brat suddenly falls silent in the middle of his tantrums, as if
swayed by the words of the people around him.

That cultivator even thinks that he manages to move the spoiled

brat, and hastily takes the opportunity to flatter him. “Young Master,
forget other things, just knowing who you are would make people in
awe of you. It’s no problem that we lost the horses. May we pull the
carriage for you instead?”

The spoiled brat glances at the cultivator with a thoughtful

expression. With an uncharacteristic quietness, he looks down and
gets inside the carriage.

As long as this lordling doesn’t insist on looking for death, his

entourage lets out a relieved sigh. They don’t think much about why
he suddenly becomes so full of understanding.

The spoiled brat closes the curtains on the carriage and looks at his
pampered hands. Dark energy swirling in his eyes, he lets out a
twisted smile.

*******

1. Horoscope, basically. There're booklets sold at temples and such

that let you look up if a day is good for you to go on a journey, start
building your house, hold your wedding etc. given your birth year.
2. From Tao Te Ching, foundational philosophical text of Taoism.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 61

I have to apologise to you all, because I didn't check things twice (or
connect the dots that it was about sword cultivation) and got the level that
Yan Zhengming reached wrong. It isn't 'rising wind', but rather 'forming the
blade'. I've corrected the term in Chapter 60 accordingly. Sorry!

*******
Vermilion Bird Tower is on the side of a mountain, perching over a
dizzyingly high cliff. Looking down from that cliff, one can see a great
lake, which is so deep that its water looks nearly black. In the shade,
the lake is still, like a jade that has the colour of ink.

The Vermilion Bird was born from fire in the South. Full of light, it is
the lord of all birds.

The tower has the reputation of being a divine relic, which gives off a
holy aura. However, when approaching, one only sees a shabby
building. Because the climate of the South is hot and humid, the
surrounding walls are covered in rashes of mold. Like a handful of
ash that remains after the glory has been lost, a bit of cinnabar still
lingers on the roof of the tower. The tower stands in loneliness, at the
end of the world.

Outside the Vermilion Bird Tower, the walls have half-collapsed. The
red mud from the bricks and the green stones mix with each other
everywhere. The weeds are higher than a normal house, but no one
clears them up. Even without any wind, they sway on their own from
time to time.
No smoke from cooking can be seen within a considerable distance.

Yan Zhengming’s group received the news a bit too late. It’s still
three days from the fifteenth of the eighth month. They thought they
could avoid the crowd, but when they arrive, the area around the
Vermilion Bird Tower is already packed full of people.

However, none of these cultivators can get close to the tower,

because there is a ring of energy around it. This energy is like a
guardian beast circling around the tower, giving off an invisible but
fierce and relentless flame. Whoever dares to set foot within its area,
his face will be burnt off.

Like a swarm, the cultivators gather about three miles away from the
Vermilion Bird Tower. They all hope that maybe they’ll be in luck and
get to enter the tower, which may contain some kind of miracle that
can help them to win fame and glory.

The cultivators that have some wealth all bring artifacts that create
shelters for them. The poor ones have to use the ground as bed and
the air as blanket. The atmosphere is like a market of mortals. Some
of the clever locals bring food to sell to the cultivators who can’t
practice inedia yet. However, the local customs are simple, and the
people here aren’t as keen on business like those near the Eastern
Sea, so the scope of commerce is limited.

Li Yun glances around and suggests, “Most senior brother, so many

people are here already. I think it’s useless to be impatient. Let’s rest
for a night here. You’ve just crossed the ‘forming the blade’
threshold, so you’ll need to reinforce it. I too have to try and find a
way to turn our little sister back. As a bird, she tempts people more
than as a human.”

Yan Zhengming agrees and takes out a stone the size of a pigeon
egg. At first glance, it looks like a stone for exercise the hand, but
inside it is a life-like building.

That stone gets larger and larger, becoming increasingly translucent.

Finally, it turns into a small building with a garden that can house
several people inside, separate from the outside. That small stone
turns out to contain a small world inside it.

The building has everything from bonsai to the tiny replica of a

mountain. The small rooms form a circle. In the middle is a swing
with a unique design.

When one enters the building, one immediately escapes the hot
weather around him, as the air inside is pleasantly cool. As soon as
the artifact is activated, it immediately attracts countless amazed
gazes from the surrounding.

“The Stone Seed,” Li Yun takes a few steps inside. As he touches

the cleverly made swing, he comments with a shake of his head.
“Money Hunting Young Master, all these years, you have been
smuggling banned goods on the surface, but you’re in fact keeping
the good stuffs to yourself.”

Yan Zhengming teases, “Who can we rely on to keep our family fed
then? You? In that case, we’d starve before we could practice
inedia.”

Then, he sweeps his gaze around the area outside the Stone Seed,
as the ‘forming the blade’ sword will is still on him. Under his gaze,
which is as sharp as a knife, all of the prying eyes around them
quickly turn the other way.

Back then, on the Azure Dragon Island in the Eastern Sea, he didn’t
know anything besides enjoying his luxuries, so he insisted on acting
contrary to his Master’s will and took the large boat, which caught
the attention of countless people. Yet he felt proud of himself for
being good at showing off, not knowing that he was attracting
jealousy, or that it would lead to countless humiliations for himself.

In the present, even if he uses a boat made of gold and silver, who
would dare cause trouble for him?

However, Yan Zhengming doesn’t feel proud at all. He only feels a

vague sorrow.
People’s hearts are full of malice, such that wearing a jade is already
considered a sin. With his current ability, he can show off without fear
in the presence of this crowd, but he can’t open the seal on Fuyao
Mountain.
However, to get only this far, he already feels exhausted. Maybe he
simply isn’t good enough.

In this life, nothing hurts a person more than the idea of ‘not good
enough’. Yan Zhengming feels that he has been bearing that thought
for so many years, that it nearly becomes a part of his body. Luckily,
the Heavens grant him the ability to take life easier than most
people. Otherwise, he’d already be crushed by that thought.
Can it be that his Master handed over the sect leader seal to him
back then, because he liked that quality of his?
When that thought appears, with some self-mockery, Yan Zhengming
takes it even easier.

“Let’s rest here first,” Turning his head to glance at Cheng Qian, Yan
Zhengming says, “Is it cooler here?”

Cheng Qian is so surprised that he is momentarily speechless. His

body was forged in the ice lake, so he doesn’t like heat. However, his
constitution is unique so he doesn’t sweat. He himself doesn’t say
anything, so he thought no one would notice that. Unexpectedly, his
most senior brother knows and remembers it.

Seeing his awkward face that doesn’t know how to react, Yan
Zhengming can’t help a sigh. He says, “Come here and protect me. I
have to reinforce my cultivation level.”

For a sword cultivator, reaching ‘forming the blade’ isn’t just an

increase in cultivation level. It’s more like entering a new world. Yan
Zhengming carefully meditates on it, and only wakes up from his
trance after a long while. As he opens his eyes, he sees that Cheng
Qian is indeed loyally watching over him.
Even Li Yun and Puddle are present, but they are half asleep.
With a slight cough, Yan Zhengming asks, “What are you all
occupying my place for?”

Li Yun is startled awake. The sleepiness still lingering on his face, he

blurts out. “What does it feel like to reach the ‘forming the blade’
mystic knowledge?”
He isn’t the only one who is curious. They all are. If one isn’t a true
cultivator of the sword, one simply can’t enter the realm of ‘forming
the blade’. In the entire Fuyao Sect including Han Yuan, only their
sect leader and most senior brother is guided to the Tao by the
sword.
Even Cheng Qian sits up expectantly.

After thinking for a good while, Yan Zhengming carefully replies.

“The world is vast.”
These words are so cliche that they are effectively a non-answer.
Only Cheng Qian, who has learnt a bit of Sea Tide Sword, seems to
realise something from them.
Seeing his thoughtful expression, Yan Zhengming smiles ruefully to
himself in his heart and swallows what he is about to say next: But
I’m imprisoned here.

The world outside is endless, but I alone am in a prison.

This is the sensation the realm of ‘forming the blade’ gives him.
And the stage next to ‘forming the blade’ is ‘sheathing’.

Unlike the other paths, the sword cultivators very rarely have
moments of enlightenment. For them, the stronger they are
pressured, the more ferociously they fight back. In that fight, Yan
Zhengming was suppressed by the soul of a true dragon. Then he
was spurred by Cheng Qian’s unknowing words. Cornered by both
sides, he managed to force out a sphere of sword energy at ‘forming
the blade’ level.

Sword cultivators can do whatever they like in the Nine Provinces,

but they very rarely reach the supreme heights, because this path
truly isn’t easy at all.
At that moment, Cheng Qian senses something. He springs up and
reaches the gate within seconds. As he opens the gate, there is an
old man with bent back standing at the gate of the Stone Seed. His
hand holding a lantern flickering in the wind, he stands there waiting
in complete silence.
This old man doesn’t look like a cultivator. Although a cultivator’s
physical conditions deteriorate when they’re about to die, but they
very rarely seem to be truly old. Yet the aura this old man gives off
isn’t that of a mortal.

The head of the old man reaches Cheng Qian’s chest. Seeing that
the door is opened, he slowly looks at Cheng Qian’s face. His eyes
are opaque like those of the blind person’s, yet his gaze are like a
needle point full of rust.

He looks closely at Cheng Qian from head to toe, Then, his sagging
mouth corner moving slightly, he quietly says, “Young man, seven
rounds of tribulations by lightning are over, but three disasters and
nine misfortunes, are you done with them yet?”

The surrounding is dead silent. No one discusses how this old man
suddenly goes to the group’s place with an attitude like attending a
funeral, because in the witness of the crowd, he emerges and crawls
step by step from the Vermilion Bird Tower himself.

Cheng Qian’s pupils constrict. “Elder, you…”

However, the old man no longer pays attention to him. As if having

difficulty with walking, he slowly goes past Cheng Qian to Yan
Zhengming, and says in a low voice, “Sect Leader, please follow me.
My lord left something for you.”

Before Yan Zhengming can reply, the old man already turns and
walks outside, seemingly certain that he will follow.
Yan Zhengming hastily waves at Li Yun then chases after the old
man. Taking the lesson about the ‘tempting people’ incident before,
Puddle hesitates between Cheng Qian and Li Yun, then she
decisively hides in Cheng Qian’s sleeve, leaving Li Yun behind to
take care of the Stone Seed like an old maid.
In the admiring, resentful, or confused gazes of the crowd, the group
follow the old man, who emerges from the Vermilion Bird Tower. No
one dares to say anything. The Vermilion Tower opens every year,
which has been going on for a hundred years. If there is really
anything good inside, it surely has been taken. The powerful
cultivators all care about their reputations, so they don’t want to
stoop so low as to salvage what is left behind. Those who want to try
their luck here are all the riff-raff kind, so the group isn’t bothered by
anyone.

Following the steps of the old man, the fierce heat current around the
Vermilion Bird Tower splits up and leaves a path to get in. Because
ice and fire oppose each other, Shuang Ren makes a loud buzzing
sound. Cheng Qian can bear it, but he feels very uncomfortable. At
that moment, a very malicious gaze stabs at his back. He
immediately turns his head and sweeps his gaze through the crowd
in a distance. Then he sees the carriage of the spoiled brat whom
they taught a lesson earlier.

“He’s just a negligible brat who can’t even concentrate his mind yet,”
Thus thinking, Cheng Qian withdraws his gaze.

Nevertheless, whether because it’s too hot in the area around the
Vermilion Bird Tower or something else, he is filled with anxiety, as if
something is about to break loose from the primordial darkness.

The old man is slow, so it takes a while for them to reach the
Vermilion Bird Tower. There are several rusted bells on the half-fallen
door. As if sensing that someone is coming, they swing slightly and
give off a heavy sound. The old man pushes open the door with
some difficulty and says quietly. “Get inside.”

Yan Zhengming says, “Senior, we don’t come here for the Vermilion
Bird Tower. It’s just that, my Master sealed our sect’s mountain and
left behind a key, part of which is a password in the keeping of
Senior Xu. We are here to…”

It’s pitch dark inside the Vermilion Bird Tower. Frowning, Yan
Zhengming lifts the hem of his robe and leads the group inside. The
current of heat swirls outside, but it’s cold and humid inside. The
total contrast and the sudden change in temperature causes one to
shudder.
Panting, the old man lights up the lanterns in the tower. The ground
smells of mud. As there is no window, darkness surrounds them from
all sides, creating a kind of oppressiveness.

Cheng Qian’s body was forged from a divine artifact. Although he

may be ignorant about the treasures of the world, he is very sensitive
to the sacred or infernal energy such artifacts contain. However, as
he looks around, he realises that this place isn’t a hoard of treasures
like the legend says. On the contrary, it’s completely empty.

The old man leads them up a narrow staircase to the top of the
tower. There is a lifelike statue delicately carved from stone here.
The statue portrays a thin man, whose features can be seen very
clearly. His eyebrows are delicate, giving his face a feminine touch.

The old man respectfully bows to the statue and says, “My lord, your
guests are here.”

As it turns out, this stone statue is none other than Xu Yingzhi, the
lord of this place.
Remembering that he has a favour to ask of the people here, he
hastily dons the most humble and polite expression. Acting like he
were dealing with a real person, he stops at a short distance from
the old man and performs the courtesy required of a junior.
“Apologies for disturbing you, Senior.”

The old man glances at him. Although the old man’s face is
expressionless, he is probably pleased. He burns some incense for
the stone statue, then takes out an ancient-looking wooden box from
behind the altar and brings it to Yan Zhengming. He says, “I am the
spirit of this Vermilion Bird Tower, whose life is maintained by the
spiritual energy of my lord. My lord passed away a long time ago.
The Vermilion Bird Tower is about to meet its end. I’ve been worried
that I can’t return this to your esteemed sect, but I can finally be at
peace.”

Yan Zhengming opens the wooden box. Inside are three old coins.

Surprised, he looks at the spirit of the tower with some confusion.

The old tower’s spirit doesn’t explain much. He just says with a wave
of his hand. “It’s yours.”

Then he transforms into a faint gust of smoke and flies into the
lantern over the head of the stone statue.

Yan Zhengming dares not touch the three ancient coins, because he
doesn’t know which mystery they may contain. As he is about to ask
Li Yun, who claims to ‘know everything’, the bells in the Vermilion
Bird Tower suddenly ring. The lantern over the stone statue’s head
flickers, as countless shadows rustle and crawl up from all directions.
A chalk-white hand suddenly destroys the protective array on
Vermilion Bird Tower, and reaches for Yan Zhengming.

Yan Zhengming thinks, Do you want to die?

Before the hand can come close to him, it’s already severed by the
sword energy around him. The part from the wrist flies off, but not a
drop of blood is spilled. Only a cloud of black energy appears. It falls
down and transforms into countless pitch-black snakes, which stare
hungrily at the group in the middle.

The one with the severed hand walks out from the darkness. It turns
out to be the spoiled brat they encountered earlier. Strange black
energy wraps around his body. On his face is a stiff and bizarre
smile. As he opens his mouth, what comes out isn’t human words
but a hissing sound.
The lantern over the stone statue flickers and extinguishes. The
tower’s spirit is nowhere to be seen.
Cheng Qian asks in a low voice, “What is this?”

Li Yun shakes his head with a heavy face. It’s true that demonic
beings can possess people, but this spoiled brat doesn’t seem to be
possessed. He looks more like he himself were a demonic cultivator.

However, they’ve just fought him during the day. That can’t be the
case.

Cheng Qian sweeps his gaze around him. He realises that the small
black snakes appear more and more, but they don’t come close to
the others. It seems that Yan Zhengming is their only target.

He immediately draws Shuang Ren, his frosty will charges directly at

the spoiled brat. At that moment, a hand suddenly grasps his
shoulder from behind. Yan Zhengming drags him to one side and
growls. “Step aside-”
Seeing the sign of the demon of the heart flashing on Yan
Zhengming’s forehead, Cheng Qian is suddenly scared. “Wait,
you…”

Yan Zhengming’s body transforms into a sword wind. As the spoiled

brat is blown away by that sword wind, the smile on his face
becomes even more malicious, and his all-black eyes become like a
bottomless abyss. Seemingly without any effort, he jumps around the
Vermilion Bird Tower on the tips of his toes, and opens his arms, as if
wanting to embrace the extraordinarily sharp sword energy. Then,
with a swooshing sound, he is slashed from head to toe into two
parts by Yan Zhengming. The two halves of his body behave
differently. One of them falls down, spasms, and then becomes
dead. The other half turns into thick black fog. The black fog doesn’t
avoid Yan Zhengming, but charges directly at him.

The three coins in Yan Zhengming’s hand jingle, making the black
fog pause a little. At this moment, Cheng Qian’s attack has come.
The thick white frost quickly forms an ice wall that keeps the black
fog out.

The three coins suddenly escape the wooden box and fly into the
sect leader seal on Yan Zhengming’s chest. With a pounding sound
in his head, Yan Zhengming feels that his primordial spirit is once
again pulled out of his body into the sect leader seal by an irresistible
force.

All of the chaotic images swirl by. With a click, the Vermilion Bird
square in the ‘earth’ layer is opened. Darkness falls on Yan
Zhengming’s eyes. When he can see again, he finds himself in an
unfamiliar place. The stone statue becomes a living person, who is
sitting in silence with his head hanging behind a stone table. His
hand is holding three coins.

Yan Zhengming terrifiedly looks at the reflection in the bowl of tea on

the table, realising that he once again takes the viewpoint of his Lord
Beiming disciple grandfather.

He cries a little inside, as he wonders what kind of link he has with

their disciple grandfather who defied morals and rebelled against
everything.
Tension hangs over the two sides of the stone table. There is a
wooden plate with its face down on the table. The lord of Vermilion
Bird Tower Xu Yingzhi turns the plate over. On the plate is the three
characters “Han Muchun”.
Yan Zhengming feels his heart tremble. Part of it comes from his
own surprise to see his Master’s name at this place. The other part
comes from what is in the heart of Lord Beiming.

Then he hears what comes out of Xu Yingzhi’s mouth. “Will die

young.”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 62

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the retroactive editing!

*******
Yan Zhengming hears himself, no, his disciple grandfather say in a
hoarse voice. “How can I change it?”

Xu Yingzhi casts his gaze downward, and says with a touch of

apathy, “Tong Ru, if you believe in Fate, you should already know
what ‘it has been decided in the primordial darkness’ is. This is not
something a mortal can change. If you don’t, you should at least
learn that ‘The idea of ‘capability’ is the gilt of the Tao and the root of
ignorance1’. The so-called ability to know what happened in the past
five hundred years and what will happen in the next five hundred
years is only a delusion. Still, you on one hand believe that what you
saw in the ‘Three Lives mystic site’ will happen, while on the other
hand ask me how to change it. Don’t you think that’s absurd? My
advice is that you should go with the flow. Don’t let yourself be stuck
in a corner.”
Although Yan Zhengming doesn’t know what ‘Three Lives mystic
site’ or ‘die young’ are about, he feels the Xu geezer is only good at
empty words.

Hearing that, Lord Beiming - Tong Ru says nothing for a long while,
but once again Yan Zhengming can feel the familiar helplessness
and anger burn in his chest.
He suddenly understands why he keeps being drawn in by his
disciple grandfather, whom he has never met. The two of them seem
to be connected by having the same problem.

Xu Yingzhi draws a line in the air with his fingers. The three coins
jump into his palm. The callouses on the tips of his fingers seem to
be caused by countless attempts of divining Fate.

He sighs and says in a softer tone. “From ancient times, prosperity

goes hand in hand with decline; success goes hand in hand with
failure. For cultivators like us, shouldn’t that be well understood? To
walk this path, in the end, aren’t our competitions and struggles with
the karmic cycle all for the purpose of reaching the Great Way and
gaining immortality, so that we can escape mortal sufferings? Tong
Ru, the Heavens grant you great talents, such that you can go
further than other people. Whether it’s your family or fellow members
of your sect, they’re all of this transient world, and thus an illusion.
You should soon get rid of all of that. Don’t get lost in your obsession
and fail to reach enlightenment.”

Tong Ru says, “I don’t…”

Xu Yingzhi interrupts him, “To long for a person means to hold an

obsession. Whom do you long for?”

Tong Ru looks away to avoid his gaze. After a moment, he asks, “If
someday you divine that your lifespan is about to end, can you say
‘attachments in this transient world should be severed’ so easily like
that?”

Without any change on his face, Xu Yingzhi says, “The mushroom

and the cicada, the worm and myself, there is no difference. Isn’t it
absurd to resent the Heaven and Earth?”
Observing from the outside, Yan Zhengming can see that, to the lord
of the Vermilion Bird Tower, it’s no difference whether to be alive to
turn into a stone statue. In his eyes, nothing in the world matters,
everything is trivial. He gets involved in things like this only because
he has too much time on his hands.

To think about it-

Throughout times, under the eternal sky, does the rise and fall of a
single country matter that much?

In the vast world, among the many people who are mostly the same,
is the fate of an individual that important?

Looking down from high above, what Xu Yingzhi said isn’t wrong.
Everyone understands this truth. However, in the small, transient
world, from an individual, a family to a nation, who isn’t doing their
best for the ‘trivial affairs’? Compared to the eternity, all of such life
and death, encounter and parting, love and hatred don’t matter
anymore than waves on the sea.

However, obviously, how can it not be a heart-wrenching pain when

one directly experiences such matters?

From a distance, anyone can see the entire awe-inspiring scenery of

endless mountains and rivers. But when one is on the mountain
itself, deep in the clouds, who can tell where they are?

As Yan Zhengming scrunches his nose in annoyance and tries to

escape this bizarre place, his perspective changes. His disciple
grandfather Tong Ru stands up as he says, “Yingzhi, you’re wrong.
Countless seniors have tried to achieve immortality, but who among
them has succeeded? A lifespan will end sooner or later. I’m similar
to the insects, but I’m different from them too. Both they and I have
transient lives. However, they will turn into dust, while even if my
body is dead, my soul can live on in the lineage of Fuyao Mountain.
As long as the inheritance of my sect isn’t interrupted, the lineage of
my sect will continue. Why should I pursue that vague immortality?”

Xu Yingzhi can see that they are on totally different paths, so all
advice is pointless. He says, “Fine, if you insist on thinking like that, I
have nothing else to say. But I really can’t help you. What you see in
the Three Lives mystic site will happen. The ‘life’ of Fuyao Sect is
really going to end. What are you going to do? From ancient times,
the ones that risked everything to defy Heaven’s will only got the
opposite of what they wanted. Do you want to walk that path too?”

“Don’t forget, ‘the Great Way has fifty parts, celestial divination
reveals forty nine’2. Nothing can be perfect, but there is always a
route for survival,” Tong Ru says, “I will definitely find that survival
route.”

Having said that, he turns to leave.

Xu Yingzhi suddenly calls out, “Wait, Xiao-Chun…”

Tong Ru stops in his tracks. Hanging his head, he sighs. “It isn’t what
you think.”

Xu Yingzhi asks, “Then what is he to you?”

Tong Ru replies. “Throughout the years, Jiang Peng is my disciple in
name only. I often don’t even see him. Xiao-Chun is my only disciple.
I don’t have any dirty thoughts about him. It’s just that…”

At this point, as if feeling that it’s rather pointless to explain this

matter to an outsider, he smiles slightly, then disappears with just a
few steps.
Yan Zhengming: “…”
He can clearly feel the immense exhaustion that rises in the heart of
his disciple grandfather. The loneliness of a thousand years in the
wilderness only disperses thanks to that person alone. After a long
time depending on each other, the bond is as deep as the Beiming
sea. With just one look at that person, spring will bloom in the heart.
About the other thing… How dare I?

Yan Zhengming immediately grasps on the more questionable part,

while doubting if there is something wrong with his sense and
intelligence. The so-called ‘dirty thought’ is really as he understands
it?
A bunch of absurd romantic theories burst out in Sect Leader Yan’s
head, to the point that he feels he becomes dirty, and the propriety of
a sect leader on him has been smashed to pieces beyond help.

At that moment, the scene in front of him changes. A second later,

as his vision swirls, he is already back with his disciple grandfather
to Fuyao Mountain.

Yan Zhengming doesn’t have the heart to speculate about the dirty
history of his senior’s love life anymore. His heart beating faster, he
hopes his disciple grandfather would slow his steps, so that he can
borrow the vision of the past and see Fuyao Mountain once more.
However, his disciple grandfather is faster than a rabbit. Everything
passes by in a flash as they reach the back of the mountain.

The Valley of the Yao has already been wide open. Zipeng Zhenren
and some great yao that Yan Zhengming doesn’t know seem to try to
persuade Tong Ru about something. In the chaotic noise, Yan
Zhengming can’t hear anything clearly, but he can sense that these
yao want to stop Tong Ru from doing what he has planned.
Tong Ru remains set in his ways. He lets himself fall down the abyss
in the valley.

Yan Zhengming feels like his eyes are about to fall out. Right after
that, as his vision blurs while he is still on the body of Tong Ru, he
feels an immense pain, like his heart were pierced by thousands of
arrows. Even with the determination of a sword cultivator, he is
kicked out.

When Yan Zhengming regains his consciousness as he pants, he

sees Tong Ru is kneeling on a very high platform not far from him.

Is there such a place at the back of Fuyao Mountain?

Yan Zhengming doesn’t remember anything about this. He didn’t
frequent the path at the back of the mountain, because he felt that
there was something terrifying down in the deep valley. Even now he
dares not look down.

He can’t help glancing at the stone steps Tong Ru has passed. What
he sees is that the stone stairs seem to lead from the ground to the
sky. There is no end in view, only countless steps one after another,
which are hidden by the clouds. Each of the steps has a bloody
footprint on it, making a chilling sight. It seems that it isn’t easy to
climb these stairs at all.
Yan Zhengming looks back at Tong Ru. He is indeed kneeling in
front of a stone.

Yan Zhengming rubs his eyes and cautiously approaches it, thinking.
“Can it be, the stone in Xiao-Qian’s quarters came from here? Is it
really the Wish Granting Stone that countless people lusted after on
Azure Dragon Island? But… Is there really a stone that can grant a
person’s wish?”
In general, Yan Zhengming has never desired any treasure. When
he comes across interesting artifacts in the black market, he sells
most of them. What he keeps mostly become toys for his junior
brother and sister. A sword cultivator at his level doesn’t need any
external artifact to help him. However, at this moment when he is
staring at this infernally alluring stone, as soon as that thought
crosses his mind, he can’t help thinking about the stone.

In their childhood, he and his fellow disciples used to play around in

Cheng Qian’s quarters, but unless the weather was too hot, no one
looked twice at this stone. Looking back, it was likely because they
were still children and didn’t truly desire anything.

As if bewitched, Yan Zhengming thinks, if he had the stone right now,

could he wish for the seal on Fuyao Mountain to open? Could they
return to the past? So that Han Yuan wouldn’t fall into the demonic
path, Cheng Qian wouldn’t go missing for a hundred years, their
Master would live again, the Yan family would still be there, they
would still stay on their mountain without a care about the outside
world like wild birds, working or horsing around as they wished…

From the endless void, Yan Zhengming stares fixedly at the stone.
As if possessed, he reaches out, and his hand goes through Tong
Ru’s.

In that moment, he feels as if great bells were ringing right next to his
ears, which nearly reaches his soul.

Across the hundred years, Tong Ru, whose blood filled his every
step as he walked on the mountain path, resonates with Yan
Zhengming as they both look for what they wish. The images of
Cheng Qian getting colder and colder in his lap and his Master’s soul
dispersing blend with each other. Yan Zhengming’s eyes redden. As
he screams, the demon of the heart, which has been lurking for
many years, finally emerges from his forehead. It appears in front of
him and takes the form of Cheng Qian.

That’s a Cheng Qian covered in blood, as the hole in his chest

seems unable to close. Forgetting where he is, Yan Zhengming
shakily rushes forward to take Cheng Qian in his arms. “Someone,
please help him! Master! Disciple grandfather! Where the hell are
you? Help me see to Xiao-Qian!”

At that moment, the Wish Granting Stone suddenly gives off a

greenish light. The light slowly flows out and covers Cheng Qian’s
body, filling up the fatal wound on his chest and clearing up the blood
bit by bit.

Yan Zhengming’s heart undergoes an upheaval of emotions, from

the lowest point to the highest. He stares dazedly at Cheng Qian, as
Xu Yingzhi’s question to Tong Ru rings by his ear: What is he to you?

Like he is asleep, Cheng Qian doesn’t move, quietly lying in Yan

Zhengming’s lap. As if possessed, Yan Zhengming traces Cheng
Qian’s cheek with his finger and stops at his lips. He touches those
lips once, suddenly curls back his finger like he were burnt, then
hesitantly touches them again.

What is he to you?

At that moment, Yan Zhengming seems to be split into two. One of

his selves says with a righteous anger, “Cheng Qian is your junior
brother. Are you an animal? Ridiculous!”

His other self stares at Cheng Qian’s pale lips despite his will. The
emotion that day when he was in the sect leader seal that he didn’t
know came from Lord Beiming or his own heart anxiously swirls in
his chest. “This is my Xiao-Qian.”
At that moment, he finally sees clearly the nature of the demon of the
heart that has been haunting him in the past days.
With an unbearable pain that seems to tear up his chest, Yan
Zhengming holds Cheng Qian tightly, refusing to let go no matter
what. Then, everything around him explodes, and Yan Zhengming’s
primordial spirit is pushed back to his body.

As he opens his eyes, all he can see is that Li Yun worriedly shakes
him and shouts something.

Without any warning, Yan Zhengming suddenly collapses. The

snakes around them get into a frenzy and charge at him.

Theoretically, a sword cultivator who has reached ‘forming the blade’

level will be full of an aggressive energy to the bones. That should
scare off demonic beings and protect him from all kinds of poisons.
However, whatever those snakes are made of, they aren’t kept away
by his threatening aura at all.

They are only afraid of Shuang Ren a little, as Cheng Qian’s sword
clears up the area. But they just run away, not dying.
These snakes aren’t burnt by fire, or swept away by water, or torn
apart by wind. They can’t be cut by a sword. Even the frosty aura
only drives them back a little. However, although it feels chilly and
humid inside the Vermillion Bird Tower, this is still a place dominated
by the fire element. Here, Cheng Qian can’t do much.
Puddle flaps her wings and chirps. “What are they? Second Brother,
didn’t you say the five elements gave rise to each other but also
counteracted each other3, so everything had its nemesis? But why
are they like this? Why do we keep being harassed by pests like
this? Did our most senior brother recently change his perfume and
attract them or something?”
Luckily, her most senior brother hasn’t woken up yet, or he would
roast and eat her upon hearing this.

Cheng Qian on the other hand is startled, as he is suddenly

reminded of something Tang Zhen once said. The five elements give
rise to each other while counteracting each other. However, nothing
can counteract demon of the heart, which can invade everywhere.
No matter how brave or intelligent you are, you have no way to
prevent or destroy it.

Cheng Qian withdraws all of his human aura and removes all
distractions from his heart. Thus purified, his body becomes a frost-
covered jade.

His effort immediately shows effect. All of the snakes consider him a
nonliving object like Shuang Ren and instinctively avoid him. Cheng
Qian fights against the ferocious fiery energy around the Vermilion
Bird Tower and freezes both the inside and outside of the tower.

There is a thin layer of frost on the stone statue of Xu Yingzhi, as if

there were a blizzard in the tower. The snakes are all chased to the
corners like autumn wind sweeping the fallen leaves. At that
moment, Cheng Qian catches a moving shadow from the corner of
his eye, which intends to approach the only fire in the tower in the
lantern.

Cheng Qian waits for it. He immediately charges it and slashes the
shadow in the middle of its body into two.
A terrible screech disturbs the bells hanging outside the Vermilion
Bird Tower, causing them to ring out. The two halves of the shadow
suddenly become larger. Twisting, they combine with each other in
the air and form a human shape. A familiar face appears and smiles
ferociously to Cheng Qian. “Third Brother, are you trying to kill me to
avenge yourself?”
The hand that is holding the sword of Cheng Qian trembles a little.
The sword wind that is like the sea tide makes a swerve around the
shadow and hits the Vermilion Bird Tower heavily. The impeccable
disguise is immediately broken. The demonic being laughs softly and
steps forward. Its brightly red eyes meet Cheng Qian’s gaze. The
distance between the two of them is less than the span of a hand.
The grown-up face of Han Yuan can be seen clearly.

“Senior brother,” He drawls the low voice of a grown man, and says
softly, making the final words vaguely sound like a child trying to get
attention, “There is a river over there. I wanted to catch some fish for
you and our Master, but there was a big dog. It chased me…”

Those are precisely the words the little beggar said to Cheng Qian
while their Master was asleep, back then when Muchun Zhenren
took Cheng Qian and Han Yuan back to the sect. There was no
mistake at all.

The claws of the demonic being already reach Cheng Qian’s neck.
Right away, an ice blade flies up from the ground and nearly runs
through that demonic being. The demonic being hastily withdraws,
as more ice blades appear from all directions.

The demonic being is afraid of the frosty aura granted by the ice
lake. It gets stuck in the ice while trying to escape, and growls
desperately. “You cold blooded bastard!”

“I’ve already avenged myself,” Cheng Qian says without changing

his expression. “I won’t touch a single hair on my junior brother.”

Even if his sect insists on executing Han Yuan for his crime in the
future, Cheng Qian won’t help either side. If he really hated Han
Yuan, he would have already killed him on that deserted island.
The principle held in Cheng Qian’s heart is clear and unshakable.
Nothing is ambiguous about it.

The frosty aura in the Vermilion Bird Tower suddenly explodes. A

snowy firework bursts out around the demonic being. The ice shards
that fly out quickly gather together again. Cheng Qian shouts in a low
voice, “Seal it!”

The demonic being with Han Yuan’s face is frozen in an ice pillar
taller than an adult.

The swarm of black snakes in the Vermilion Bird Tower disappear in

a gust of smoke. All that is left is the motionless body half of the
spoiled brat whose name they don’t know in a corner.
Cheng Qian quietly stares at that ice pillar. Puddle the bird, who is
perching on his shoulder, looks at it too. With a heavy heart, Yan
Zhengming pushes Li Yun aside and walks next to Cheng Qian. With
a glance, he says, “It’s not a living being. Not Han Yuan either. This
thing just assumes his appearance.”

Cheng Qian doesn’t hide the disappointment on his face.

Yan Zhengming instinctively wishes to tap his back and give him
some soothing words. However, as he raises his hand mid-way, he
remembers the out-of-bounds wish in his demon of the heart. Like
choking on a bone, his eyes dim as he looks at a different place and
says, “Let’s go. The Vermilion Bird lock has been opened. We
shouldn’t tarry here.”

Then, without waiting for anyone, he leads the way and walks down
the dark stairs to leave the Vermilion Bird Tower.

Before leaving, Yan Zhengming turns his head and looks at the
mountain cliff on the other side of the Vermilion Bird Tower. To him,
the bottomless abyss can’t compare to the peach blossom pool4 in
his heart.

*******

1. From Tao Te Ching.

2. From I Ching (these two notations are from the author herself. In
case you don't know it yet, the I Ching is an ancient and highly
influential text on metaphysics and philosophy, where concepts of
gua and yao - as in the story title - come from. It also deals a lot with
divination.)
3. The Five Elements (五行): Chart of their interactions shamelessly
taken from wikipedia:
4. Peach blossom: Symbol of romantic love. A person who is very popular
and has many lovers is said to have 'peach blossom fate'.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 63

Thanks MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

*******

“The stone in my quarters? Are you sure you didn’t get it wrong?”
Cheng Qian asks in a slightly doubtful tone.

After the group returned from Vermilion Bird Tower, they remain at
that tavern in the small town bordering Nanjiang. Yan Zhengming
carefully selects the details of what he saw in the sect leader seal,
leaves out the part that shouldn’t be mentioned, and tells the story to
the others.
“Back then I used it as a table to copy the scripture whenever the
weather got hot. I found nothing strange about it,” Cheng Qian
shakes his head. “Isn’t it just a stone with a rather flat surface? I
thought it was at most a jade with decent size.”
Puddle curiously asks, “Does a stone that can grant you your wish
really exist in this world? Third Brother, what did you think about
when you used as a table to copy the scripture? Did it become
reality?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Back then, he only wondered if that stone was worth some money. In
his thought, if Fuyao Sect went bankrupt, they could bring it down
the mountain, found someone to carve it to something that could be
sold.
… Looks like that idea couldn’t become reality.

With some difficulty, Cheng Qian keeps his face casual like there
were nothing, and said calmly, “Of course I had to get rid of all
irrelevant thoughts when copying the scripture. What could I even
think about?”
Hearing that, Puddle is full of admiration. She herself can never keep
her mind clear and free from all distractions.

Li Yun cuts in. “Back then your Third Brother was a little more than
ten years old. What could he think about? At most it was to have
good handwriting, to make progress in his swordplay, to be able to
reach qi absorption soon, that the incense burner that was our most
senior brother stayed well away from him… Ow, sect leader and
senior brother, I don’t mean it.”

Under the knife-sharp gaze of Yan Zhengming, Li Yun forces out a

smile and changes the topic. “There can be only one such
miraculous stone that exists in this world from the primordial times. It
certainly won’t respond to such trivial things. I think, the so-called
‘wish’ to be ‘granted’ must be something extraordinary that is beyond
human capability.”

“Stop showing off,” Yan Zhengming interrupts him. “If you truly know
so much, then tell me what is the ‘Three Lives mystic site’?”

“Sneer at me a bit less, won’t you. I really have heard about that,”
Leaning a little into this chair, Li Yun raises his chin a little and says
smugly, “In this world, there are three thousand greater mystic sites,
six thousand lesser mystics sites. Unless they are found out by
accident, most people don’t know about them. The earliest record of
the ‘Three Lives mystic site’ is in ‘Diabolism’....”

“‘Diabolism’?” Cheng Qian is surprised. “The chronicle that was

carved all over the walls in the first floor of the library tower? I’ve
read it already when I was young. It didn’t mention any mystic site.”

“Let me finish first. Most of ‘Diabolism’ records the heterodox

techniques, which aren’t that interesting. But its final volume is called
‘Unusual Affairs’. You definitely haven’t read it,” Li Yun sways his
head a little as he speaks. “The ‘Unusual Affairs’ volume is really
fascinating. It records many stories about great demonic cultivators,
revenge, hatred born from love, deception… that kind of things.
Some of them have really good writing.”
Cheng Qian doesn’t get what he is so smug about.

Li Yun says, “In that volume, there is an account of the ‘Three Lives
mystic site’. This mystic site appears every three thousand years.
The path that leads to it isn’t easy to find, because it’s only opened
to the fated person. The issue is, other mystic sites harbour great
dangers to the one who finds them, but also grant that person great
boons. The ‘Three Lives mystic site’ is special in that it causes all of
the ‘fated’ people to go mad. It is said that inside this mystic site is a
mirror that tells you about the end of the person or the matter you
care the most about.”

Puddle asks, “The end?”

These words sound rather ominous, like the person in question won’t
get to live to old age.

Li Yun nods. “Yeah. For example, the person who tries everything to
achieve immortality will see themself old and about to die. You will
have to see with your own eyes the opposite result of what you wish
for the most. Anyone can guess what that feels like. It sounds like
nothing, but once you yourself are inside, you can’t avoid being
moved by the vision.”

Yan Zhengming frowns. “It seems that the ‘fated one’ that this mystic
site chooses has a problem themselves, doesn’t it?”

His own speculation on what happened is quite similar to this

scenario. For some unknown reason, their disciple grandfather Tong
Ru got lost in the Three Lives mystic site. According to the
conversation, what he saw was definitely the end of Fuyao Sect’s
lineage. He then paid a visit to the lord of the Vermilion Bird Tower
Xu Yingzhi, who apparently divined a bad future.
Afterwards, Tong Ru acquired the Wish-Granting Stone by some
means. Although the great yao in the Valley of the Yao and Lord Gu
tried to stop him, he insisted on his plan to the point of going into qi
deviation, which had many consequences. Finally, just as Xu Yingzhi
predicted, against his wish, Tong Ru caused the end of Fuyao Sect’s
lineage himself.
“Second Brother, you really know everything,” Puddle comments.
She immediately changes the topic. “But when will you turn me back
to a human?”

Li Yun says, “About this…”

Yan Zhengming too annoyedly asks, “And what about the weeds
you’ve gathered? It’s enough to keep goats. Have you made the
anti-poison pills yet?”

Li Yun says, “I…”

“Then get to it, quickly!” Having yelled that, Yan Zhengming pushes
the chair to one side and goes away, leaving behind these words.
“I’m taking a nap. Don’t disturb me.”
The temper of their sect leader is palpable in every word, making the
other three look at each other in confusion.

Puddle hears the sound of the door closing as she shakes the dust
off her feathers. Not understanding what’s going on, she jumps on
the table and asks, “Who pissed him off?”

Her two senior brothers both try to push the blame on each other
with the ‘was it you?’ stare.

Finally, Cheng Qian is the one that is swayed by his conscience first.
Rubbing his nose, he says with some embarrassment. “It’s probably
me.”
Puddle and Li Yun ask at the same time, “What did you do again?”

To tell the truth, Cheng Qian is even more at a loss than the two of
them. Suddenly, their most senior brother stops acknowledging his
presence. He doesn’t look at him or continue his line of thinking.
When they talk, Yan Zhengming looks in a different direction or
pretends to be deep in thought. In short, he acts like Cheng Qian
didn’t exist at all.

When entering the room, Cheng Qian intentionally sits next to him.
As it turns out, his strange-acting sect leader and senior brother sits
primly with a face so tense his skin can be used to make a belt. The
posture has ‘stay away’ written all over it. All that is lacking is him
hiding his face behind his fan and saying, “I sell my wares but not
myself”.

The other three look at each other. As what they can see on each
other’s face is only ‘something is wrong with our sect leader again’ or
‘our sect leader is always acting up’, they have to give up.

Li Yun goes into seclusion for two days and creates several jars of
anti-poison pills. It’s unclear what they can be used for, but it’s better
to have them than not. In these two days, Puddle senses that the
hidden force that has been obstructing her from transforming back to
human is gradually falling apart, so she tries her best to cultivate in
her bird body, working much harder than when she is human.
Sect Leader Yan spends his days not leaving his room. No one even
sees him. All communication is through the door.

It’s nothing new that his most senior brother throws a tantrum for no
apparent reason. He has had this bad habit since he was young.
Cheng Qian’s usual solution is to quietly concentrate on his own
cultivation and not pay attention to him, because he will be normal
again by himself after a couple of days.
However, this time, Cheng Qian can’t ignore it. He turns over again
and again what Li Yun told him under the True Dragon Flag.

In the end, Cheng Qian quietly stands up and scans the spotless
room and the cold water on the table, feeling that he himself is
pathetic. He turns to open the door and lands outside Yan
Zhengming’s room. His movement is so light that not a single leaf or
a grain of dust is disturbed, as he sits on the slightly curved roof.

That year, the moon isn’t completely full on Mid-Autumn. In the clear
night sky of Nanjiang, the moon is so bright that it hurts the eyes a
little to look at it for too long. Whether it’s the mountains in the
distance or the trees nearby, everything is a vague shadow.
When they were living on Fuyao Mountain in their childhood, when
Mid-Autumn came, their Master would take them to pay respects to
the ancestors and bow to the moon like it had been a children’s
game. Then he would take them to the Hall of Ignorance, where the
fruits and sweets would be divided. Their most senior brother
thought of himself as being grown-up, so he regularly asked their
Master to be allowed to drink the newly made wine. However, their
Master tricked him like a child and lined the cup with a little wine
before filling it with cassia tea, then gave it to him and told him that it
was really cassia wine.

Afterwards, this childish habit was kept by their most senior brother
on Azure Dragon Island. Whenever he drank wine, he would always
line the cup with cassia tea first. Otherwise, it wouldn’t taste right to
him.

In the endless path of cultivation, the holidays every year are like
benchmarks, after which the affairs before seem to turn to the next
page.

However, when Cheng Qian recalls these details, he feels that these
old memories always seem to be behind a curtain, as if he were
gazing at flowers through a thick fog.

He realises that his blood has gone cold.

Cheng Qian suddenly jumps down from the roof.

At that moment, the owner, who is advanced in age, has gone to

bed. There is only his daughter, who is doing the books. She is
startled when Cheng Qian suddenly appears in front of her. His
annoying habit to ignore other people has made a strong impression
on her, so she is a little afraid to talk to him. She timidly approaches
him and asks, “Young Master, what do you need me for?”
“Oh…” As the words reach his lips, Cheng Qian feels a little silly. He
hesitates on the spot for a few seconds, then smiles with some self-
mockery and takes out a few coins. “Miss, please buy me these
things.”

A short while later, Cheng Qian takes two jars of wine and an oil
paper package, then knocks on Yan Zhengming’s door.
An impatient voice flies out. “I’m in seclusion. What are you kicking a
fuss up for?”

This is the first time Cheng Qian sees someone who goes into
seclusion so haphazardly.

He stands quietly outside for a while, thinking, “Why do I have to

stand on ceremony with him like this?”
Looking back, when has he knocked on the door of Yan
Zhengming’s room so politely? When has he soothed Yan
Zhengming so carefully?

“Can I too be afraid?” Cheng Qian thinks.

Then, he draws a line with his finger and easily opens the mortal
door of this tavern. Cheng Qian leisurely lifts the hem of his robe and
enters the room in full view without any hesitation. While Yan
Zhengming is gaping, he casually puts the wine and the package on
the table as if it were his own place, then says, “Haven’t you had
enough yet?”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

Still sitting crossed-legs, Sect Leader Yan blinks a few times like he
were dreaming. He stares at the wine jar and the oil paper package
and asks with some confusion, “What are those?”

Cheng Qian glances at him and opens the oil paper package,
revealing some crudely-made cakes. Then, he opens one of the
wine jars, causing the alcohol scent to waft out. The other jar is full of
sugary water. Worrying that the sugar hasn’t fully dissolved yet,
Cheng Qian shakes the jar carefully. He mixes the two liquids
together, then tells Yan Zhengming. “Come and eat.”
Yan Zhengming says, “I don’t want your charity.”
Cheng Qian replies, “You really don’t want it?”
Yan Zhengming falls silent for a while, then walks to him without any
spirits.

Cheng Qian stands up, saying, “Let me call the others.”

“Hey,” Yan Zhengming pulls him back. “No need to call them.
They’ve been busy these days. Besides… after you died, we didn’t
have the habit of celebrating holidays. Sit down and drink a cup with
me.”

Cheng Qian hesitates a little, then sits down at the table. He watches
Yan Zhengming fill two cups with the wine then put one cup in front
of him. “Can you drink it?”

“Yes,” Cheng Qian nods, “It’s just that I haven’t drunk alcohol for a
long time.”

From the other side of the table, Yan Zhengming fixes his gaze on
Cheng Qian’s face. Under the bright full moon, Cheng Qian has the
insistent feeling that his most senior brother’s gaze is unusually
deep.

Yan Zhengming says, “From what I can see, you only drink clear
water, so I think you can’t drink or eat anything else because of your
cultivation.”

Cheng Qian pauses a little, then says casually, “I formed my

primordial spirit in the Spirit Collection Jade, so I was created without
the need for food. Good food and wine easily cause the desire to
eat, so they disturb the mind, which can be fatal when encountering
a heavenly tribulation. Therefore, I have to give up all those
unnecessary things.”
In the end, cultivators all have mortal origin. Desires of the flesh
follow them all their lives, especially eating, which is a lifelong habit.
Even if they can practice inedia, most cultivators still maintain the
habit from their mortal lives, if they don’t have to purify their bodies
when their cultivation reaches an important junctures, or when they
are working to acquire a technique that requires such abstinence.
Yan Zhengming nods. There are so many things he wants to say to
Cheng Qian, but he doesn’t know where to start, so he can only
focus on drinking.

Cheng Qian takes a small sip of the wine in the cup. It’s wine in
name, but the truth is that the alcoholic taste has been completely
overcome by the taste of the sugar water. As the sharp sweetness
flies up to his forehead, Cheng Qian is overwhelmed for a moment.
He presses his lips together and puts the cup down. It takes a while
for the sweetness in his mouth to fade, which seems to wake up his
rusty senses.

From his chest, a flow of warmth joins his veins. Shaking a little,
Cheng Qian feels again the sensation of being human, which has
disappeared for a long time.

Yan Zhengming asks out of nowhere, “Xiao-Qian, you are so strict

with yourself like that, is it because you too are seeking the Path of
Heaven to reach immortality?”

Not knowing where this comes from, Cheng Qian is at a loss a little.
Then he replies. “I’ve never thought about it.”
Yan Zhengming tilts his head and looks at him.

Cheng Qian says, “Our Master once said, ascension and death
aren’t different from each other at all. I didn’t understand it back then,
but now, after I’ve thought about it, in both cases, all our
relationships in this life have to end, without meeting each other
again. The Path of Heaven is narrow like that, so why should we
spend all our efforts for it? It’s better to live our best, so that
everyone is happy together.”

Yan Zhengming asks in a soft voice, “Be… with us forever?”

“Why not?” After so many years of being away from the hustle bustle
of life, Cheng Qian gets warmed up after only a mouthful of the
faintest ‘cassia wine’. He suddenly grasps Yan Zhengming’s wrist
over the table and says in a low voice. “Senior brother, I know why
you’re troubled.”

Yan Zhengming’s hand shakes, nearly spilling the wine on the table,
as his body immediately stiffens. After a while, he annoyedly shrugs
off Cheng Qian’s hand and complains, “We’re all adults already. Stop
touching me so willy-nilly.”

Perhaps thanks to the sweet water, the frowning face of Yan

Zhengming finally eases up. He sighs. “As long as you’re all happy, I
have nothing to be troubled about. Especially you.”

Cheng Qian rubs his fingertips against the wine cup and smiles. “I
know.”

“What do you know, really?” Yan Zhengming laughs out loud and
shakes his head. As he picks up one of the cakes Cheng Qian brings
to him, the anxiety in his heart suddenly calms down a little. He feels
that there is nothing bad about the current situation. Whatever
happens, Cheng Qian won’t go anywhere. He will wander with Yan
Zhengming to all corners of the world, as they look for a way to
return to Fuyao Mountain together. Why should Yan Zhengming
demand anything more then?
As Yan Zhengming’s troubles in the past days gradually withdraw to
a corner, he rolls the rough outer layer of the cake in his fingers. Not
losing his old bad habits, he says, “Hey, you peasant, how much did
you spend on the cakes? They’re so tough they can be used as
weapons. How can you eat these?”
Cheng Qian says with a grin, “If you don’t like it then don’t eat it.
You’re so fussy.”

Having said that, he takes his cup and finishes the sugary water
laced with a bit of wine in one gulp.

As soon as the wine reaches his throat, Cheng Qian immediately

feels that something is wrong. Unfortunately, he can’t spit it out, no
matter how much he regrets it. Before Yan Zhengming can reply, he
sees that Cheng Qian suddenly freezes, then reaches out his hand
to grab at something, as if he can’t sit firmly. Before he can catch the
edge of the table, he collapses without any warning.

As it turns out, this brat made from the Spirit Collection Jade goes
down after just one cup!

Unfortunately, under the bright Mid-Autumn moon, not everyone can

be so peaceful.

In the past days, the entourage of the spoiled brat has been doing
almost everything to search for their young master, who went
missing without any apparent reason.

In Mid-Autumn night, the Vermilion Bird Tower is surrounded by

excitement, as the crowd impatiently waits for the moon to reach the
top of the tower. However, in front of a luxurious flying horse
carriage, two cultivators with primordial spirits are worriedly waiting
for the result of their subordinates’ investigation.
A middle-aged man hastily approaches the two elders. Shaking his
head with a heavy face, he says in a low voice, “Senior, there is still
no news. Our young master insisted on getting into Vermilion Bird
Tower. Do you think he sneaked in behind those people?”

An elder shakes his head. “Don’t you know what our young master’s
cultivation is like? Even if he brings rare artifacts with him, he doesn’t
have the ability to sneak in the Vermilion Bird Tower as he wishes.
Continue to search for him! Alas, as our young master left home at a
whim, our master ordered me to protect him carefully…”

Before he finishes his speech, the crowd makes a startled noise. At

the moment Vermilion Bird Tower opens every year, the ferocious
heat around the tower immediately cools down. With a loud clang,
the door to the tower opens. However, no one goes out from there.
There is only a cloud of dark energy swirling inside.

Someone says, “Look, Vermilion Bird Tower seems a bit strange this
year…”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 64

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the edits!

*******

A dark cloud appears out of nowhere and blocks the bright

moonlight. Thunder and lightning suddenly rage in the clear sky,
casting a deathly white light.

The lightning strikes directly at the Vermilion Bird Tower. All eighty
one bronze bells on the tower ring at the same time, with an urgency
like they were demanding someone’s life.

Right after that, there is the sound of something exploding. The

Vermilion Bird Tower, which has existed for thousands of years, split
into two from the middle. The ancient walls break into pieces, and
within seconds, the tower collapses into nothing.

The inside of the Vermilion Bird Tower, which countless people lust
after, is finally revealed to the crowd.
Behind the empty and fallen tower, which is like a shabby cage, the
neither dead nor alive statue of its lord sits primly like a ghost that
manifests in this plane. Over the head of the statue is a carelessly
hung lantern, which shakes like a person suffering from malaria.

The features of the stone statue seem to be full of a great sorrow.

Under the flickering light of the lantern, a tortoise shell1 falls from the
statue's hand. As the shell spins non-stop, it is revealed that “unrest”
is carved on its other side.
Unfortunately, no one can see that clearly. Just a second later, both
the tortoise shell and the stone statue turn to dust without any
warning.

A sigh in an ancient voice can be heard from the lantern, then the
light inside it gradually fades.
As the Vermilion Bird Tower no longer exists, the tower spirit that has
been protecting it in the past hundred years likely dies along side it.

At that moment, someone with sharp eyes sees something else, and
asks the person next to him in a low voice, “Look, isn’t that an ice
pillar? What is frozen in there?”

Following those words, the crowd see that there is an ice pillar taller
than an adult under the extinguished lantern. Inside it is a person,
whose features can’t be seen clearly. The black energy swirling
around his body criss-crosses in the transparent ice pillar, as if
wanting to break out and blend into one with the night.

As the saying goes, “as long as there is life, the demon of the heart
will live”. There is no way to completely destroy that thing, so Cheng
Qian had to seal it in the ice.

Cheng Qian thought there was nothing in the Vermilion Bird Tower
besides junk and the tower spirit, who wasn’t a human. Therefore,
the demon of the heart sealed in the ice wouldn’t have anything to
derive its power from, and would weaken. Even if the ice pillar got
melted by the Vermilion Bird Tower in the next decade or two, it
would be ‘starved’ to near death.

Who could expect that the Vermilion Bird Tower, which seemingly
could stand for eternity, would collapse in a second!
Thick black clouds fly in from the South and swirl around the ice
pillar, as if being summoned.

Seeing that situation, some wiser cultivators already prepare to run

away.

The two cultivators with primordial spirits who protect the spoilt brat
on the carriage of course are more experienced. The taller and
thinner one says, “It won’t be easy to deal with this kind of demonic
energy, which reaches to the sky.”

The stockier cultivator says, “People say the Nightmare Travellers

are based in Nanjiang. In my opinion, there is no smoke without a
fire. Whatever is going on, let’s get there first.”

The tall and thin elder sighs and asks rather helplessly, “Then what
should we do about the young master?”

Before the stocky elder can reply, a cultivator nearby says in a

startled voice, “Seniors, please look!”

The cultivator who has just spoken wears a gray silk rope on his
waist. Like a living being, the rope rises up, and shaking slightly in
the wind, it points to the Vermilion Bird Tower.

The cultivator with the grey silk rope urgently says, “Senior, this is a
‘Trace Seeking Silk’. When we arrived here, in case there was
trouble, I tied one end to our young master. Before, the Trace
Seeking Silk was likely blocked by the Vermilion Bird Tower. Now
that the tower has exploded, the silk can immediately sense the
location of our young master.”

Hearing that, the tall elder immediately pales. He says with some
fear, “Why is our young master in the Vermilion Bird Tower. What-
what should we do now?”
They can’t do anything anyway. At that moment, an earth-shaking
growl can be heard from afar, as the black energy gathers around
the ice pillar like a tornado. It forms a dragon and rises from the
ground, while the ice pillar is lifted up by the tornado.

Someone mutters, “When the land snake becomes a dragon, chaos

reigns.”

That black dragon looks at the sky and makes a growl that shakes
the ten thousand great mountains of Nanjiang. The ice pillar cracks
with a crisp sound, then falls apart. The shadow sealed in the ice
pillar becomes one with the huge dragon, then flies in the direction of
the horizon.
As the nine skies tremble, the moon and stars dim. The black energy
is everywhere on the mountains like a fire that can’t be put out, as if
swallowing up half the world.

Even the gods and buddhas are afraid.

The stocky cultivator with primordial spirit fearfully says, “Go! Go!
Let’s go!”
However, even if he is a great cultivator of a region, in this situation,
his voice is no louder than a cricket’s. Gritting his teeth, he decisively
leaves the others in his group behind, then turns into a shooting star
and tries his best to escape.
As soon as the sword under his feet rises into the sky, like a giant
mouth stinking of blood, the place where the Vermilion Bird Tower
stood opened up and swallowed everyone there. Even having a
cultivated body and primordial spirit isn’t enough to help one escape.

Seeing that, the stocky cultivator with primordial spirit pales. Not
even daring to look back, he flies directly to the North.
Meanwhile, in the tavern of that border town, Yan Zhengming has a
pretty good scare as Cheng Qian is suddenly knocked out.

He shakes and calls Cheng Qian’s name for a while, and realises
that that latter got drunk from cassia tea mixed with wine, a
discovery that makes him not know whether to laugh or cry.

Not expecting that this inhuman junior brother of his, who seems
invincible at first glance, can be defeated so easily, Yan Zhengming
panics a little. Then he finally realises what he should do. Stepping
forward, he speaks, not really knowing whom he is talking to, “Go
sleep in the bed.”
Of course, no one replies to him. Having said that line out loud, as if
granted permission, Yan Zhengming carefully lifts Cheng Qian up
and puts him on his bed, which is so clean that there isn’t a single
strand of hair on it.

Yan Zhenging stares at Cheng Qian, then raises his hand and taps
his face slightly. “Hey, can’t you really handle even one mouthful?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t react at all.

Despite himself, Yan Zhengming’s mood brightens, even if he

doesn’t know himself what he is happy about. If he had a tail, it
would be wagging. He pokes at Cheng Qian’s forehead and says,
“Looks like you only amount to that much.”
Under his hand, Cheng Qian’s face tilts slightly, his breath smelling
faintly of wine flavoured with cassia. In any case, it is just mortal
wine. With Cheng Qian’s constitution, even if he is unconscious, his
spiritual energy will expel the bit of alcohol. His drunken state won’t
last long.

Yan Zhengming sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes admiring
Cheng Qian’s features. Like a lake into which a small stone is
thrown, his heart is full of ripples again.
Like a peasant child tasked with watching over candies, he is itching
to steal what is entrusted to him, but doesn’t have the guts to commit
the crime. All he can do is stare while harbouring all kinds of
thoughts. Although he dares not touch a single hair of Cheng Qian’s,
his heart is about to escape, as an absurd smile blooms on his
face.

At that moment, a strange noise flies in through the window.

Yan Zhengming, who has been enjoying the situation, pulls his mind
out of a pile of indecent delusions. His face paled, he pushes the
window open through the air.
The birds around the building act like they are scared and flap their
wings wildly. The colour of the sky in the South changes, as thick
clouds swirl relentlessly like sea tides and an ominous aura can be
felt from the night sky. No longer having the heart to peep at a
sleeping Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming places a hand on Cheng
Qian, sending in a flow of spiritual energy with the air of a sharp
blade into his veins. Within seconds, the apathetic spiritual energy
that is circulating in Cheng Qian’s body is stirred up. The tiny drop of
alcohol is immediately consumed away.

Cheng Qian wakes up while choking on that energy. Of course, it

isn’t pleasant to be forced to wake up by a foreign flow of spiritual
energy. His breath stuck in his chest and his temples throbbing,
Cheng Qian frowns as he wakes up with some difficulty. In his mind,
if Noble Consort Yan dares to tell him that this attack is because he
didn’t take off the shoes before getting on the bed, he will definitely
have to commit rebellion.
In a blink of the eye, Yan Zhengming is already standing by the
window. He says without looking back, “Down after just one cup.
Wake up. Something is wrong.”

Shuang Ren, which Cheng Qian tossed on the table earlier, is

buzzing. He rubs his forehead. “What happened?”

As soon as he says that, the door to Yan Zhengming’s room, which

was already vandalised by Cheng Qian, is once again kicked open.
Carrying on his shoulder a huge bird with long legs that is as tall as
half an adult, Li Yun charges in. “Most senior brother. Huh, Xiao-
Xiao Qian?”

It is no surprise that Cheng Qian is here. The surprise is where he is

sitting.

One of Li Yun’s legs already on the threshold, he looks both gleeful

and embarrassed. He can neither go in or withdraw.

Surrounded by the unknown danger, Yan Zhengming can see that Li

Yun’s gaze is still guilty because of the shady thoughts in his head.
Yan Zhengming says annoyedly, “What’re you still standing there
for? Get in here!”
Glancing at the feeble great bird, Cheng Qian asks, “This is our little
sister?”

“There is a strange development in her yao skeleton,” Li Yun puts

Puddle on the table. Her body temperature is very high, causing
many black burn marks on Li Yun’s sleeves and arms. As soon as
she touches the table, there is a boiling sound, as the cool wine jar
nearby heats up.

Li Yun moves the wine jar to the window sill, then blows at his hand,
saying, “So you can’t blame me for not being able to turn her back.”

Half dead half alive, Puddle flops on the table like a well-roasted
chicken. She says, “Senior brother, I’m going to die.”
Afterwards, this dying Puddle tilts her head and sees the package of
cakes that Yan Zhengming opened then put aside earlier. She
reaches out and pecks at the package to tear up a hole. Then she
comments as she eats. “Even if I’ll die, I must have a full stomach.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He discovers that his most senior brother is really good at bringing

up children, in that he goes with the special talents of his charge, so
all of their little sister’s avian nature is preserved in one piece.
At that moment, the night sky outside is black as ink. The few
customers in the tavern all wake up and stare outside, terrifiedly.
Cheng Qian checks what is there. A black dragon is swirling among
the black clouds from afar. This isn’t an ancient beast that has died
for eight thousand years in the True Dragon Flag. Its immense
threatening aura mixed with demonic energy, which makes one
unable to breathe, growls and covers half the disquiet sky.

A cracking sound suddenly comes from Puddle’s body. Her great

wings, which are already half the height of a person, suddenly grows
longer. A great flame erupts and burns the wooden table to ash.

Yan Zhengming’s long sleeves flutter, as his cool sword energy

covers the whole room like a transparent cage. Li Yun takes out a
package of cinnabar from his robe, which he dissolves with the
cassia wine on the window sill. Then, as he seemingly turns into a
shadow, layers of bright red spells appear on the ground, as quickly
as water flowing.
Cheng Qian wants to say, “We shouldn’t stay here. Shall we go?”
However, in this situation, he swallows those unnecessary words. He
takes Shuang Ren and jumps on the roof, protecting the others from
the outside.
Under his feet, there is the sound of a great struggle. The power of a
celestial yao relentlessly tries to burst out of the skeleton, which is
tightly suppressed by Yan Zhengming.

Whenever the yao skeleton of Puddle grows, Yan Zhengming and Li

Yun have to practically risk their own lives. Although Yan
Zhengming’s cultivation progresses quickly and regularly, Puddle’s
celestial yao power becomes increasingly ferocious. At this moment,
the feathers on her back are fleeced by the sword energy and fall
everywhere. The relentless True Flame gets out of her control and
spreads. It affects even Cheng Qian, who is outside the sphere of
the sword will.

Cheng Qian feels like his back is getting burnt. Compared to the
subtle heat of Vermilion Bird Tower, the flame on Puddle’s body is
much more fierce.
Suddenly, a mournful avian cry rises from behind Cheng Qian. A red
cloud bursts out of the roof and flies into the sky, tearing up the thick
black cloud. It is like a target that can be seen from miles around has
been painted.
The black dragon amidst the cloud from afar suddenly turns its head
and looks in this direction. Its eyes meet Cheng Qian’s gaze. A chill
runs along his spine as he instinctively clutches his sword more
tightly. It has been a long while since he last felt this sensation.

Suddenly, someone nearby says in a low voice, “Descendant of the

Phoenix. Can it be, she is a Scarlet Crane?”

That voice is very familiar. Cheng Qian turns his head and
surprisedly asks, “Tang-xiong? What are you doing here?”

The person who has just arrived is Tang Zhen. Maybe it’s because
he is standing under the black clouds, he looks even worse than
usual, like a consumptive patient who is about to die.

Two young men carefully support him on both sides. One of them is
Nian Dada, Nian Mingming’s precious child who loves to ramble to
himself. The other is Liu Lang, whose soul was pinned to his body by
Cheng Qian with the three ice nails not so long ago.

Tang Zhen doesn’t hold any small talk with Cheng Qian. He looks at
the approaching black dragon and whispers weakly, “Among the
three thousand paths of demonic cultivation, the rarest path is the
one where the person is guided to the Tao by their demon of the
heart. The cultivator lets the demon of the heart use their own self. If
they manage to go all the way, they can gather the invincible power
of the heart demon from all over the world, and form the demonic
dragon. However, the demon of the heart is a double-edged sword.
This is the first time I see a practitioner of that path advance this far.
My young friend, please be careful. The skeleton of a celestial yao is
suitable to be the spine of a demonic dragon.”

While they talk, the black dragon has come near. Mortals and
cultivators alike are just insects compared to it, so they’ve long run
away amidst the sound of screaming.

The howl of the dragon is like lightning striking at the ground, under
which no one can stand up straight. There is the sound of a great
explosion. Besides the tavern under Cheng Qian’s feet, none of the
buildings or trees around escapes the fate of collapsing within
seconds.

Cheng Qian shouts, “Stay away!”

Shuang Ren in his hand is immediately unsheathed. The frosty aura

swells up and spreads around like water. The reverberating sound
like that of a zither string can be heard even from far away.
It is as if he squeezes out the water from the hot and humid air. The
frost quickly covers the entire tavern. Cheng Qian stands on the roof
with Shuang Ren in his hand. Like a current that divide the sea, he
holds firm without wavering.

The rising frost and the charing black clouds collide into each other,
making an exploding sound.

Caught in the middle of the conflict of extreme light and extreme

darkness, the two stone lions decorating the ground floor of the
tavern is grounded into chalky powder. In the metallic screeching
sound of Shuang Ren, the black dragon madly circles the sky.

Right when the two sides attack each other in close combat, Tang
Zhen throws out a five-coloured stone. The stone transforms into a
cage that covers all three of them. As the great light fades, there is a
visible crack on the cage.

It is indeed a force that crushes stones and shakes the Heavens.

Nian Dada is so stunned that he stammers. “Tang… Tang… This-

this is the Five Coloured Stone La- Lady Nuwa left on the mortal
realm…”2

In a contrast to him, Tang Zhen doesn’t seem to have much regard

for the thing. He says blandly, “It’s only the leftovers. How can it
stand a chance against an attack from the demonic dragon? As the
demonic dragon has been formed, this demonic cultivator has the
ability to win the Lord Beiming title.”

Nian Dada’s eyes widen. “He can become Lord Beiming?!”

“No,” Tang Zhen says, “In demonic cultivation, it’s all or nothing. To
become Lord Beiming, he’ll have to step on the corpse of the
previous bearer of the title. The remaining soul of the previous Lord
Beiming was sealed by a, well-talented fellow cultivator.
Consequently, that Lord Beiming is neither dead nor alive. The ‘Lord
Beiming’ title is accordingly sealed off, and no one can contest it
anymore.”

Nian Dada doesn’t have the heart to hear him tell stories. He asks
anxiously, “My disciple uncle is only a little more than a hundred
years old. How can he be a match for the Lord of Demons?”

Hearing that, Liu Lang, who hasn’t spoken, can’t help balling the
hands that are supporting Tang Zhen into fists.

Tang Zhen doesn’t say anything. He simply looks up. The whole
body of Cheng Qian’s sways on the roof, as the tip of Cheng Qian
seems to be infected by the black energy. Not bothering to glance at
the sword in his hand, he cleans the blood on the corner of his
mouth with his sleeve. He fixes his stare on the black dragon on the
sky without conceding even one step.

The black dragon aims its claws, which are three times bigger than
Cheng Qian, directly at him. Cheng Qian jumps up to meet the
attack. All of the frosty aura that has been dispersing like the sea tide
is gathered in one place, as the “All or nothing” move from the “Not
according to wish” form smoothly combines with the sword will, and
precisely stabs in the point between the claws of the black dragon.

Tang Zhen pats Liu Lang’s hand and says in a low voice, “Don’t
waste your energy worrying over nothing. See, he is the sharp blade
that was forged by heavenly tribulations.”
******

1. Tortoise shell: In ancient times in China, tortoise shells were used for
divination. According to legends, the cracks on tortoise shells were the
origin of the yao hexagrams, and also the inspiration for the Chinese script.
2. Lady Nuwa: According to legend, when the world was newly formed, it
was promptly broken by a conflict between the gods, so the goddess Nuwa
used the five-coloured stones to repair the sky and the earth. More about
this mythological figure from the wiki.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 65

Lots of thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for editing the chapter!

*******
The black dragon screams from pain. Its struggle shakes up the
entire sky like a storm, causing the thick black clouds to pour down
over everything they contain. That rain is like a plague that kills all
living beings where it passes by. In a blink of an eye, there isn’t even
a single blade of grass on the ground, as the black clouds descend
and are about ‘swallow’ Cheng Qian.
Nian Dada is only a provincial cultivator who doesn’t have much
experience with the world. Seeing what’s going on, he lets out a
terrified cry and looks away. In a contrast, Liu Lang steps forward
with the intention to leave the protective barrier formed by the Five
Coloured Stone, but Tang Zhen pulls him back.

Wearing a mask over his half-a-corpse face, Liu Lang is no longer

the youth who travelled to Mingming Valley back then. He speaks in
a low voice that is rough like sandpaper, which seems to take a lot of
effort, “Senior, I…”

With a coldness that words can’t adequately describe, Tang Zhen

tells him, “You have only completed the energy exercise for
beginners. Without even qi sensitivity, you aren’t that different from
insects! It isn’t your lot to fight.”
Liu Lang says with difficulty, “Senior Cheng saved my life. Of course
I have to gather all of my courage and repay it.”
Tang Zhen says mercilessly, “All of your courage isn’t enough to be a
snack for that demonic cultivator. Why should he call on you?”

Liu Lang balls his hands into fists.

Without looking at him, Tang Zhen says in an apathetic tone,

“Cultivators on the path to the Tao are like sands in front of great
waves. The odds of surviving is one out of ten. Whether it’s a favour
or a feud, you need some ability to repay what’s given to you. What
use is it to have mere words?”
Liu Lang says, “But…”

Tang Zhen doesn’t seem to worry for Cheng Qian at all as he says
simply, “Look.”

Being swallowed by the black fog, Cheng Qian can’t find the way out
right away. All he knows is that the spiritual energy all over his body
is suppressed by that force, causing him to nearly fall from above.

His heart, which hasn’t been disturbed by anything for a long time, is
shaken by the black fog full of demonic energy around him. In that
moment, all of the helplessness he once felt in his childhood, the rise
and fall, the meeting and parting, as well as the flesh-rending pain in
the Spirit Collection Jade, crash over him again. A voice in his heart
asks insistently, “Do you really not resent it at all?”

He harboured resentment against his birth parents until death. One

could tell Zhou Hanzheng was around just by looking into his eyes.
He remembered all humiliations he suffered to the smallest detail.
With that kind of temperament, can he really become a saint out of a
sudden and let go of what happened?
Does he really not resent Han Yuan’s strike that pierced his heart?

It is something that even their most senior brother, who doesn’t hold
grudges about anything, can’t ignore. Would Cheng Qian, who
doesn’t let anything slide, forgive it? The peace of the past years, is
it because he really has a change in temperament and refuses to
harbour a resentment? Or does he put it aside just because Tang
Zhen took away his memory for forty nine years, and everything still
feels new to him?

In front of Cheng Qian, the black fog thickens and transforms into
Han Yuan, who smiles lightly at him. “Third Brother, you’re always
lying to everyone including yourself. Have you finally decided to be
honest yet?”
Cheng Qian’s eyes twitch. He can’t tell if the Han Yuan in front of him
is a demon of the heart created by the black fog. All he knows is that
an opening has appeared in his unshakable tranquility, and like a
great dike that collapses because of an ant hill, his heart irreversibly
breaks into pieces.
With a meaningful gaze, Han Yuan says, “Third Brother, back then
you weren’t such a liar. If you hated someone, you would never show
him a pleasant face. Why dare you not even think of resentment
now? What are you afraid of? Conflict in the sect? Doubt in the
senior brothers’ heart? Or do you fear that you’ll appear petty, and
that your reputation as an extraordinarily just person will be ruined?”

“Shut up,” Cheng Qian interrupts him. In a chilly voice, he says,

“What right do you have to interrogate me? Was it not you who
committed the deed back then? Even if you were affected by the
‘drawing on soul’ spell, was it not you who cultivated the demonic
path and wrought countless evil? And you’re still shameless enough
to claim that you’re judged wrongly?”
As if not expected that Cheng Qian would bluntly turn the question
back, Han Yuan is momentarily stunned speechless.

Without any warning, the flame of Cheng Qian’s anger takes over his
mind. Gritting his teeth, he forces his suppressed spiritual energy to
circulate, ignoring that his chest hurts to the point of bursting. Paying
no heed to the spiritual energy that flows wildly in his veins, he
sweeps clean the demonic energy surrounding him.

In this life, besides the prison he creates for himself, what can hold
him back?

Cheng Qian doesn’t use Shuang Ren. Instead he slaps the Han
Yuan that is standing in front of him and angrily yells, “Why should I
not put the blame on you?”

After the strike, both the attacker and the one that is hit are at a
loss.

Cheng Qian thought the Han Yuan in front of him was only an illusion
created by his demon of the heart, so he hit it in the spur of the
moment. Unexpectedly, he got the real thing.
Within seconds, he is reminded of what Tang Zhen said about ‘using
oneself as the tool’ and ‘forging a dragon from heart demons’. His
eyes widened, he says incredulously, “You really are… Han Yuan?”
Holding his face, Han Yuan looks helpless for a second. Then he
laughs madly. “Third Brother, you’re such an apathetic victim. I’ve
been standing here right in front of you. How can you not recognise
me?”

The hand that is holding Shuang Ren shakes, “Then the one that
broke into Vermilion Bird Tower was you. The demonic dragon is
you. The one that wants to take the yao skeleton of our little sister is
also…”
Clasping his hands behind his back, Han Yuan says casually, “A
celestial yao’s skeleton is an unlucky thing. On her body, what good
is it for besides tormenting her every few years? Better to draw it out
of her and give it to me, who is also unlucky. Out of regard for our
past as fellow disciples, I may be merciful when getting her skeleton
out and spare her life.”
Cheng Qian’s spiritual energy growls like the stormy sea. A wave of
frosty energy rises from his body. Like a whirlwind, it sweeps away
the demonic energy that has been overwhelming the area. He grits
out. “Why don’t you ask if I’ll spare your life?!”

As soon as he says that, Shuang Ren shines brightly. The

surrounding black energy is broken apart like dried leaves. Even if
Han Yuan has created a demonic dragon, he has to step back. He
takes the draconic form in the air and flies up into the skies.

The all-consuming darkness is torn up by the sword glare. Cheng

Qian is again in the night sky. He charges at the body of the dragon.
In the thunder and wind, he gives off the aura of a dragon-killer.
Amidst the clouds, human and dragon battle fiercely, such that even
their shadows can’t be seen clearly.

“Stay well away,” Tang Zhen pulls Liu Lang back. Shaking his head,
he says, “With a big fight outside and a celestial yao causing trouble
inside, I think this building can’t survive much longer.”
Tang Zhenren seems to have a crow’s mouth that successfully
predicts bad things. As soon as he says that, the tavern collapses.

The dust from the derelict is hovered up in the red cloud. The giant
Scarlet Crane shows her true appearance. There is a loud cracking
sound in her skeleton, as the yao energy is suppressed by Yan
Zhengming’s sword power in the Cinnabar Array.
Nian Dada stares and says, “This… this is a Scarlet Crane. Looks
like it isn’t easy to be a bird either.”

Tang Zhen steps back a little. He looks closely at Puddle and frowns.
“From ancient times, a celestial yao is born as a disaster. The stench
of blood follows them from birth. The problem is, she is half human in
addition to her fate of a celestial yao. Her birth should have been
soaked in blood, but someone altered her fate. It must have been not
easy for her to peacefully grow up to this age, and her yao energy to
be suppressed as much.”

Hearing that, Nian Dada can’t help his admiration when he looks at
Yan Zhengming’s direction.
Tang Zhen says, “Well then, I’ll give him a hand.”

Then, he raises his hand, as if to randomly catch something from the

air. Like spring wind that transforms into a rain, a gust of spiritual
energy is gathered in his hand, and seeps into the Cinnabar Array on
the ground.

Li Yun’s Cinnabar Array was created in haste and has been

damaged by the Scarlet Crane’s yao energy. It can’t last much
longer. Being reinforced by Tang Zhen, the array seems to wake up
and shines softly.
Countless vines rise up from the Cinnabar Array. They keep getting
burnt by the great flame around the giant bird’s body, but relentlessly
charge forward one after another again.

The pressure on Yan Zhengming significantly reduced, he looks in

the direction of Tang Zhen and hesitantly nods.

Tang Zhen doesn’t bother to stand on ceremony with him. He stares

at Puddle in the Cinnabar Array with a grave face, and says in a low
voice, “Why now…”
Puddle’s Scarlet Crane form suddenly grows larger. Yan
Zhengming’s relief is short-lived, as he feels the yao energy madly
fights back his sword will. He is forced back, and the Cinnabar Array
is destroyed before he can come to its rescue.
Li Yun is blown away, crying, “Han Tan!”

Another crack appears on the cage made from the Five-Coloured

Stone. Nian Dada points at it and panics, “Senior, what is going on?”

Tang Zhen says, “Although the Scarlet Crane is the Phoenix’

descendant, it cannot use the fire to be reborn. In its life, it has to
undergo several major transformations, which is comparable to a
person who has entered the Tao advancing to a higher cultivation
level. It should be a fortune, but the timing is… Not good, the
Heavens are provoked!”

Thick clouds from all corners gather and mix with the black fog in the
sky. From inside the Five-Coloured Stone cage, Nian Dada feels a
chill run down his spine. Back then, when Cheng Qian underwent his
tribulations in Mingming Valley, no one dared to be in the proximity of
it. Therefore, this is the first time he has seen a heavenly tribulation
close up.

After several rounds of thunder, a ray of blinding lightning strikes

down. Yan Zhenming concentrates his sword cultivator’s primordial
spirit on the sword in his hand. Uniting his mind and his energy, he
bears the first lightning of the tribulation for Puddle.

In the background noise of Heaven and Earth, a loud tearing sound

can be heard as the sword and the lightning clash, giving off a
blinding light.

The sword Yan Zhengming has been using all these years is still the
one that got chipped by Zhou Hanzheng back then on the deserted
island in Eastern Sea. He keeps it to remind himself of the
humiliation. However, the sword unexpectedly gets broken by the
lightning of the tribulation.

His chest hurts, as his primordial spirit, which is joined with the
sword, is heavily injured. If he didn’t reach the ‘forming the blade’
level, this primordial spirit would be destroyed. Before he can regain
his breath, the second lightning is already forming.

At that moment, the red cloud on Puddle is suddenly pulled into the
sky by some unknown force, forming a pillar that connects with the
black fog.

The world shakes as a great yao is about to be born. Carrying the

wrath of Heaven and Earth, the second lightning strikes.
In the mad whirlwind and the wrathful lightning, the blade flare and
the sword reflection, the howls of the demonic dragon blends with
the screech of the divine crane. The great fire on the celestial yao
seems about to burn the long night into ash. The great mountains of
Nanjiang shake, while the protective barrier made from the Five
Coloured Stone is smashed into dust.

Amidst the chaos, there is a terrified cry of ‘brother’ in the voice of a

young girl.

The voice is so delicate, like the buzz of an insect in a raging storm.

It’s unclear which of her senior brothers she is calling for, but her cry
reaches everyone who should hear it without exception.

The movements of the black dragon in the air slows down. As if

suffering from a great pain, he tilts his head backward. The giant
body in the endless night sky flashes a few times, then contracts and
turns into human form. Without any fear, he turns his back to Cheng
Qian.
Cheng Qian’s gaze freezes. Shuang Ren makes a slight swerve and
narrowly avoids Han Yuan’s human body.
A second later, Han Yuan raises his pale hand and grabs the black
fog that tangles with the red cloud. Suddenly, Shuang Ren becomes
the target of the lightning.

Cheng Qian is very experienced in dealing with a heavenly

tribulation. With Shuang Ren in hand, he is like a tiger that has
grown wings.

The lightning that is about to strike at him is blocked mid-way. It

slides off the blade and changes direction, like the giant tail of a
shooting star.

Cheng Qian’s face is lit up by the bright light.

On the other side, Han Yuan calls quietly. “Third Brother.”

Cheng Qian glances at him with chilly eyes. He looks just like in the
past, when he was on Han Yuan’s back by the Eastern Sea and
declared that he would denounce him to their Master.

Under his glare, Han Yuan nearly bursts into tears.

At that moment, countless rays of sword energy rise from the

ground. As Yan Zhengming’s sword has broken, the debris of bricks
and stones, or even the rain and wind around him, can be turned into
his weapon. They all gather and form a rather disfigured but
extremely sharp giant sword, which cuts off the tangle between the
red cloud of the Scarlet Crane and the black fog of the demonic
dragon.

The ferocious sword energy, which seems able to separate Heaven

and Earth, blocks the yao energy which has been rising to the sky.
However, it doesn’t hurt Puddle. Instead, it pushes that troublesome
red cloud back to the ground, within a short distance from her.

Ten talismans fly from Li Yun’s hand, one after another, to Puddle.
When each one of them touches her, the great flame on her body
subsides. After all ten have been delivered, the struggling Scarlet
Crane finally turns into a teenage girl with wings on her back, who
falls unconscious on the ground full of debris.

Finally, the relentless thunder reluctantly goes away.

Han Yuan looks relieved. However, right away, his face changes,
and without any warning, his arm turns into claws covered in
draconic scales and charges at Cheng Qian’s back.
As soon as the flow of air around him changes, Cheng Qian is
already on guard in the howling wind. He counterattacks with his
sword. Still containing some lightning power from dealing with the
heavenly tribulation, Shuang Ren clashes with the dragon’s claws.
Fiery sparks fly everywhere.

The dragon scales flash on Han Yuan’s face. He seems about to say
something, when the sound of a horn rings from afar.

Compared to the usual military signal, that horn’s arrogant sound

reaches everywhere, making it seem like a troop of thousands were
approaching. Han Yuan’s face changes. He smiles coldly. “Alas, the
dogs are called here already. Third Brother, I have to go.”

He pushes Shuang Ren away as he says that, his nails scratching at

the blade in a bone-grating sound. Han Yuan turns to leave, but
Cheng Qian’s sword doesn’t let him off. With a clang, the sword once
again clashes unforgivingly with the dragon claws.

Cheng Qian stresses every word. “Guided by the demon of the

heart. What’s yours?”
Han Yuan’s face changes. He grabs the black fog and pushes it at
Cheng Qian’s chest.
Cheng Qian isn’t prepared for that, so he is forced back by the
demonic energy.

After the tussle, Han Yuan transforms the demonic dragon once
more and flies a good distance away.

“Instead of interrogating what my demon of the heart is,” The great

dragon turns his head. Han Yuan’s human face flashes over his giant
head, giving a half-ferocious half-mocking smile. “You’d better ask
the sect leader and senior brother about his demon of the heart. I’m
afraid you won’t dare to hear the answer.”

Having said that, the demonic dragon rides the black cloud and flies
to the North.

The sound of the horn mixes with the sound of someone shouting.
Then, rays of bright light emerge from all directions and aim at the
sky, as if some people are sending signals for each other. Li Yun
approaches Puddle. He slowly folds the large wings that have been
spreading like a shooting target. Not grudging any effort, he carries
her on his back and asks, “What is going on? Who is coming?”

Cheng Qian descends from the sky. His body covered in blood, he
walks somewhat shakily. Yan Zhengming supports him and scolds in
a low voice. “Take it easy.”

Nian Dada steps forward to greet him, but Tang Zhen interrupts it.

Tang Zhen says, “Stop chit-chatting. The Yin Yang Signal and
Seven-Coloured Flare, they’re from the Celestial Divination Bureau.
It’ll be a pain to run into them. Please follow me first.”
Li Yun looks at Yan Zhengming. Cheng Qian hastens to make the
introduction. “I forgot. This gentleman here is Tang-xiong, Tang
Zhen.”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming says decisively, “Daoyu, sorry to

bother you. Let’s go!”

The group quickly follows Tang Zhen. They travel very fast and cover
dozens of miles in a blink of the eye. Tang Zhen, who knows the
way, takes them to the ruin of a shrine. He doesn’t rest right away,
but borrows some cinnabar from Li Yun to create an array around
the shrine.

It is obvious that Tang Zhen is very knowledgeable and has been

studying the art of creating arrays for many years. In a short while,
the half-collapsed shrine is hidden.

Putting Puddle down, Li Yun runs to Tang Zhen’s side to help him
like a starving man seeking food. Cheng Qian and Yan Zhengming
stand by the door to protect them, while regulating their spiritual
energy to heal themselves in silence.

This year’s Mid-Autumn Night can’t be anymore chaotic.

Out of the blue, Cheng Qian asks, “Most senior brother, what is the
demon of the heart that was provoked from you in the Vermilion Bird
Tower?”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 66

Thanks to MrMrsMissRandom for editing and InkSplatterM for English

help!

*******

The hidden injuries on Yan Zhengming haven’t completely healed

yet. As he is startled like that, his energy flow gets stuck, causing
him to cough his lungs out.

Cheng Qian seriously looks at his most senior brother, who is

shaking like a flower in the rain. He feels that there is nothing that
should be hidden about this, so he continues, “Han Yuan said your
demon of the heart was something I wouldn’t dare to know. Thinking
about it, I find there is no reason I should be afraid to learn about it.
Even if you intend to rebel against our Master and the seniors before
him, well, none of them is still around for you to wage your immoral
rebellion on. You should just say it out loud. Maybe it’ll help you.”

He is such an adorable blockhead...

Hearing these righteous words, Yan Zhengming feels even more

cornered. He gloomily glances at Cheng Qian with a sorrowful face.
Staring at that honest, straightforward face for a moment, Yan
Zhengming tiredly waves his hand and says, “Scram!”

The sweet words in his imagination are truly imaginary. Yan

Zhengming realises that, in the brutal reality, all he says to Cheng
Qian is just “scram”.
Cheng Qian frowns, as he can’t discern the cause of this
unreasonable bout of temper. He keeps his own feelings under
control and patiently explains. “Most senior brother, even the
mortals, who are preoccupied with living from day to day, may have
moments when they are bothered by something. So, it isn’t strange
for those who are on the long path of cultivation like us to
momentarily get stuck.”

“There really isn’t nothing. Basically there is nothing. Did I say that
there is something?” Because he has been having indecent
thoughts, Yan Zhengming’s shame turns into anger, and he lets out a
string of mocking words at Cheng Qian. Having said that, he himself
feels that his anger is too unreasonable, so he gathers his
determination and pushes it to the end. “I won’t tell you. Stay away!”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Under his uncomprehending gaze, Yan Zhengming gets even

angrier. He stares at Cheng Qian for a long while, imagining himself
pull Cheng Qian in and yell into his ears: “Can’t you leave it? My
demon of the heart is you, you asshole.”

Unfortunately, he only dares to imagine that. On the outside, Yan

Zhengming sits very still like he were frozen, but inside, he
undergoes great upheavals, as his heart jumps up and down like a
monkey.

In the end, he strikes the monkey in his heart dead. Being a paragon
of rationality, he chooses the ‘out of sight out of mind’ approach, and
turns away from Cheng Qian.

After an unimaginably short talk and an unimaginably long struggle,

Yan Zhengming plans to resume the cold war.
Cheng Qian falls silent. Then he suddenly smiles. “Fine, I won’t ask
anymore. In any case, you look fine to me.”

Yan Zhengming glances at him.

Cheng Qian says, “Someone who can find ways to enjoy himself in
any circumstance like you…”

Seeing as a storm is forming on his sect leader and senior brother’s

face again, as if he is about to discipline him, Cheng Qian finds his
tact for once in his life.

Complaining to himself that this Noble Consort’s temper keeps

getting more difficult to deal with, he takes out a small baton from his
sleeve. As he opens his palm, the “baton” becomes larger and turns
into a richly decorated sword. It’s none other than the sword the lord
of the valley Nian Mingming gifted him when they parted.

Cheng Qian hands the sword to Yan Zhengming, and says with a
rare attempt at flattery, “Didn’t your sword break? Why don’t you use
this sword for now? Although it doesn’t look nice, the quality is still
high. Keep it until I find a better sword for you.”

Yan Zhengming gives the sword a glance. He immediately keeps a

wide berth from it with obvious annoyance. “Put it away. What an
eyesore.”

It’s indeed hard on the eye. Even if his offer is thus spurned, Cheng
Qian doesn’t mind. His most senior brother has been a pampered
rich lord for many years, so he is at a high level. It’s natural that he
takes issue with this crude nouveau riche thing.

Cheng Qian smiles, “How about me gifting you Shuang Ren?”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming is dazed. Whoever learns swordplay

can’t help being seduced by that famous sword shrouded in ice,
even if it has the unlucky title of “the sword of terrible death”.
However, Yan Zhengming feels nothing for it. All these years,
Shuang Ren only brought him the memories about its owner.
Therefore, whenever he saw it, he would feel grief instead of greed.

Fixing a strange gaze on Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming asks, “You

won’t grudge me even Shuang Ren?”

True to his words, Cheng Qian tosses him Shuang Ren. “Take it.”
As soon as Yan Zhengming unsheathes the sword, the frosty aura
from the blade flies in his face. His bleak mood immediately
brightens up, and he can’t help a faint smile on his lips. However,
before the smile properly blooms, Yan Zhengming recalls the past,
when Shuang Ren was like a lifeline for Cheng Qian.

Yan Zhengming feels a bit shocked. “He can really give me whatever
I demand from him so easily like that?”

As soon as this bittersweet thought flashes in his mind, Yan

Zhengming’s eyes become dull.
After what he has seen of Tong Ru in the sect leader seal and the
consequences of the man’s actions, Yan Zhengming has very
complicated feelings about his prodigal disciple grandfather,
especially when he learns that Tong Ru had inappropriate feelings
for his Master. On the one hand, Yan Zhengming has some
sympathy for Tong Ru because they face the same problem. On the
other hand, he dumps part of his self-hatred on to Tong Ru. Although
he knows that it’s unreasonable to lash out at the previous
generation, but he doesn’t know how to suppress it.
If Cheng Qian were of the previous generation of the sect or his
senior brother, Yan Zhengming would feel much more comfortable
about it. His feelings are totally sincere, so at most he would feel like
he were committing a little rebellion. Maybe he would even
impulsively glue himself to Cheng Qian. If he were expelled from the
sect, it would be even better, as the taboo wouldn’t apply
anymore.

Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. Cheng Qian is his junior brother,
whom he has taken care of since their childhood. Their positions are
the opposite of the above scenario, so everything is different.
However sincere his feelings are, they all become improper thoughts
he shouldn’t harbour. As the sect leader, he must not lead his junior
brother on the wrong path. He can’t express his feelings, as no
matter how deep they are, they are inevitably tainted by impropriety
and indecency.

“Do I deserve that?” Full of self-hatred, Yan Zhengming rebukes

himself internally. Without a word, he returns Shuang Ren to Cheng
Qian. Then, seeing as Tang Zhen and the others have completed the
protective array, he silently gets inside the half-collapsed shrine.
Being left behind, Cheng Qian feels a headache rising, thinking that
his most senior brother is impossible to please anymore.

Nian Dada, who has been hiding in the shrine ruin, eagerly
approaches Yan Zhengming as soon as he gets in. “Senior!”

Back then, dumped by Cheng Qian, on top of Liu Lang needing

urgent help, he had no other choice than returning to Mingming
Valley. Trying his best to cook up a convincing story for his father, he
lied without batting an eyelash that “Elder Cheng wishes to recruit
me to be his disciple, so I have to follow him and start my training”.
After much trouble, he was allowed to leave Mingming Valley again,
and became an errand runner for Tang Zhen.
Although he lied to his father, Nian Dada indeed doesn’t give up the
intention to become Cheng Qian’s disciple. After witnessing the great
battle of Fuyao Sect, his unwillingness to give up seems to transform
into a great desire. Thus, he immediately moves to flatter his future
senior uncle. “I’m Nian Dada, from Mingming Valley. Greetings to
you, Senior.”
Deep in his self-hatred, Yan Zhengming tiredly glances at Nian
Dada. Thus, his first impression of the sod is quickly formed.

“When the dog gets in the way, the father is sick,” He thinks.

Seeing that the gaze of this future senior uncle isn’t friendly at all,
which is so different from Cheng Qian’s description, Nian Dada tries
to encourage himself. “Most of great cultivators from previous
generations have unusual personalities. Let’s not think about it too
much. As long as I stick to them no matter what, my patience will be
rewarded. I’ll definitely be a great cultivator in the future!”

Yan Zhengming pays no attention to him. Nian Dada immediately

brings up the time he stayed with Cheng Qian. Even if the other
person isn’t listening, he keeps talking on and on, from how he
worships ‘Elder Cheng’, to how he sneaked away from the Valley
and stalked Cheng Qian, how he brazenly stuck to Cheng Qian’s
side, as well as how he did everything to travel with Tang Zhen. As
Yan Zhengming listens, his eyes twitch non-stop. Anger erupts in his
heart, as he suspects this bastard has ill intentions about Cheng
Qian.

Because Yan Zhengming thinks of himself as having improper

thoughts, he comes to suspect the whole world. He stops and looks
in the other’s direction. Not caring that he is using his position as a
senior to bully a junior, he projects all of his sword cultivator’s aura
without holding back, and mercilessly starts an interrogation. “What
kind of conspiracy are you planning about my junior brother?”
Nian Dada: “…”
Nian Dada wants to express his heart that he will do his best to
improve himself in the future, and that he will be filial to his seniors-
to-be. Unfortunately, he is so terrified that he can’t even look up. His
legs shaking, he can’t manage a single word.
Yan Zhengming shouts, “Speak!”

Nian Dada cries a river inside. This is the first time he meets a sword
cultivator in the flesh, and he feels he doesn’t want to encounter a
second one. Sword cultivators are scary!

The commotion finally reaches Li Yun, who has been talking with
Tang Zhen. Complaining ‘how embarrassing’ in his heart, he hastily
approaches his most senior brother, who has been scaring the junior
cultivator to the point of nearly peeing in his pants. On one hand, he
reassures Nian Dada. “So many things happen to our sect recently,
so our leader has been in a bad mood. Please don’t mind him.”

On the other hand, he tiredly pulls Yan Zhengming to one side.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Being pulled by him, Yan Zhengming immediately calms down. He

realises himself that he has been overreacting. He opens his mouth,
but is at a loss.
Having a good look at his face, Li Yun is suddenly shaken. Since
their childhood, their most senior brother has always favoured Cheng
Qian. Furthermore, after a long period of going missing, Cheng Qian
is pampered like a treasure by their sect leader and senior brother.
Although Li Yun regularly teases them for that, it’s just for fun. He
has never really thought deeply about it.

Li Yun says, “You…”

Unwilling to talk much, Yan Zhengming turns and wears a casual

face like nothing has happened. As if itching to escape something,
he starts a conversation with Tang Zhen. “Senior Tang, I’ve heard
from Xiao-Qian that we owe you a debt that can’t be repaid for
saving his life.”

The two of them immediately start a very courteous exchange. When

dealing with outsiders, Yan Zhengming looks every bit a sect leader,
who can read the other side and act accordingly. No one can tell that
he has the bad habit of acting like a spoiled lordling to his sect.

As outsiders are present, Li Yun reluctantly pushes aside the

disquiet doubts in his heart and asks Tang Zhen, “Tang-Daoyu, for
you to travel all the way to Nanjiang, you must have some important
business? Maybe we can be of help for you?”

Tang Zhen says casually, “My young friend Cheng Qian must have
told you about my situation. Although my body is already dead, my
soul is still here. My primordial spirit has no shelter, and I don’t want
to perform the immoral technique of robbing someone else’s body.
So, I have no other choice but to find the bodies of newly dead
mortals and forge them into flesh puppets I can use. Such flesh
puppets don’t last long, and I can’t always find suitable bodies. A few
years ago, I took the opportunity of the war and collected a few of
those, but they don’t last long, so I make the effort to travel to
Nanjiang to look for the Ice-hearted Fire. Unfortunately, I ran into that
dragon.”

After a pause, Tang Zhen continues with a rueful smile. “I can still
remember having the pleasure of meeting your sect’s Han Yuan-
Daoyu once before. Back then, he was still a child who couldn’t
sense the qi yet. Life is indeed…”

After a moment of silence, Yan Zhengming says, “Back then, that

degenerate disciple of our sect had low cultivation, so he fell to the
‘drawing on soul’ spell of a villain. Then, for whatever reason, he has
ended up with two souls in his body. Half of his self is possessed by
a demonic being. It’s embarrassing to say this, but his own soul has
been suppressed by that demonic being. Had it not been for our little
sister waking up his true self, I’m afraid today we would all die to the
combination of demonic dragon and heavenly tribulation.”

No one here is naive. They can all discern Yan Zhengming’s

protective intent. With those words, he blames every terrible thing
Han Yuan committed on the ‘unknown demonic being that
possesses him’. It is likely he plans to accept Han Yuan back.

Although Tang Zhen and Tang Wanqiu were disciples of the same
sect, they have opposite temperaments. Tang Zhen is very good at
reading the mood. As soon as Yan Zhengming says that, he grasps
the underlying intention and says, “Oh? That is the reason? But if it’s
the case, I have a solution. I’m not much use for other things, but
issues related to the soul is my field.”

Li Yun hastens to say, “Please tell us.”

Tang Zhen says, “Two souls in a body. You certainly want to get rid
of one of them, but are afraid of throwing the baby along with the
bathwater, am I right? In my possession there is an artifact called the
‘Soul Pulling Thread’, which can lead the primordial spirit of a person
into the spiritual base of another person. Then, you can find a way to
protect the primordial spirit of your sect member and eliminate the
demonic being in there.”

Initially, Yan Zhengming only treats him with rather empty courtesy.
Hearing this, he can’t help being moved. He carefully suppresses his
impatience and says politely, “Tang-xiong, our sect’s members keep
receiving favours from you. Indeed…”

Tang Zhen isn’t a person who gives empty promises. If he says it, he
really means to lend them that artifact. Otherwise, he’d keep silent.
Cheng Qian, who has walked in without anyone seeing, says as he
hears that, “Nanjiang hasn’t been quiet recently. It can be dangerous
for you and these kids to travel there. My senior brothers have to
follow our Fourth Brother… How about this? If it isn’t too much of a
trouble for you, I’ll accompany you to look for the Ice-hearted Fire.”

He is far from being a trouble. The Vermilion Bird Tower has

collapsed. A demonic dragon has risen. The demonic cultivators in
Nanjiang and the powerful factions from all corners of the world are
in a state of unrest. Although Tang Zhen is very knowledgeable, he is
physically frail. Of his two companions, Liu Lang is still a teenager
and hasn’t properly entered the Tao, while Nian Dada doesn’t know
anything about the outside world. They basically can’t be relied on.
To have Cheng Qian as a protector is obviously a great boon for
Tang Zhen.

Cheng Qian is trying to repay the honour debt on behalf of his sect.

Hearing such decisive words, Yan Zhengming’s first reaction is to

oppose. He absolutely doesn’t want Cheng Qian to get out of his
sight anymore. However, he swallows his objection, which is already
on the tip of his tongue.

“Can I really keep him by my side this whole life?” Yan Zhengming
thinks to himself. He quietly takes stock of the ridiculous things he
has done recently, as well as these indecent thoughts that have
been getting out of control. Suddenly, he finds that it isn’t a bad idea
to let Cheng Qian go for a while.

Cheng Qian is a reasonable person who very rarely starts a fight. His
cultivation has progressed a lot compared to the past too...

As the hesitation passes by Yan Zhengming’s face, Tang Zhen

immediately catches it.
Tang Zhen tactfully smiles. “My young friend, please don’t be like
that. Standing on such ceremony would make us strangers. Fuyao
Sect and I go way back. When I was still young and ignorant, I
travelled the world with a junior sister from my sect. During the trip, I
caused trouble and nearly lost my life. Fortunately, Senior Tong from
your esteemed sect helped us. I stayed at Fuyao Mountain to
recover from my injuries for a while, so I’ve met your Master too.
Until now, I’ve lost count of who is in debt of whom. My abilities are
limited, so I can only help you with trivial things. No need to repay
me.”

After the earlier panic, Li Yun’s hands sweat, as he tensely looks at

Yan Zhengming, as if they weren’t discussing the rather trivial matter
of whether Cheng Qian should accompany Tang Zhen, but the
choice between right and wrong of his senior brother.

Meeting his eyes, Yan Zhengming’s heart drops into a pool of acid.

Avoiding everyone’s eyes, he replies with his gaze on the ground.

“Daoyu, you’ve done Xiao-Qian so many favours all this time, he
should help you back a little. Even if you like the sword in his hand,
there is no reason to refuse.”

After Yan Zhengming says this much, it would be rude for Tang Zhen
to refuse. The group rests in nameless half-collapsed shrine. Three
days later, Puddle finally wakes up, so Tang Zhen has no reason to
delay further. Before Cheng Qian can see what difference the extra
bit of Puddle’s yao skeleton makes, he has to depart with Tang
Zhen’s group.

Yan Zhengming has many things to say. However, running them

through his mind, he feels that they’re all shameful, so he lets them
all rot in his heart and says succinctly to Cheng Qian with a wave of
his hand. “Go.”
In a contrast, Cheng Qian doesn’t have the heart to take his leave.
Having told his senior brothers and little sister to take care again and
again, he still lingers on. In the end, he sighs, “If only there were
some kind of artifact to teleport me to you guys when something
happens.”
This line sways Yan Zhengming’s heart, making him nearly change
his mind on the spot. He has to use all of his discipline for a lifetime,
and pretends to be impatient to Cheng Qian. “Fine, fine, you’re the
only capable one around here and are needed everywhere. Go,
quickly. Stop wasting time of other people and being an eyesore."

Having said that, Yan Zhengming picks up the shards of his heart,
then determinedly turns away first.

Under the vast sky, which place would complete him? And which
place can he leave behind?
 Liu Yao - Chapter 67

Thanks MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

Warning for gore, torture, and rape and general demonic shenanigans.

*******

Cheng Qian frowns the entire time he watches Yan Zhengming and
the others leave, until they can’t be seen any more.
His habit is that he only talks about the good things and keeps quiet
about the bad. Only when the other person turns away does he let
the trouble show on his face.

When Cheng Qian suggested that he remain and accompany Tang

Zhen, he indeed wished to help, but he also arrived at the same
thought as Yan Zhengming: he felt he should leave his sect for a
while.
Although his most senior brother was belligerently uncooperative
and refused to answer no matter which track Cheng Qian took,
Cheng Qian can still guess that Yan Zhengming’s demon of the heart
has a lot to do with him. Otherwise, he can’t think of any reason why
his most senior brother can’t confide in him.
However, Cheng Qian is innocent, and isn’t really good at dealing
with other people. He can guess the cause, but he doesn’t know
which step he should take next. He doesn’t know how to take the
roundabout approach and tactfully bring the topic up. He worries that
he would just do it the wrong way and make his most senior brother
even more upset. Therefore, he plans to leave for a while, and puts
his hope in his Second Brother Li Yun, who has cleverness to
spare.

Cheng Qian isn’t sure Li Yun is that reliable either. His senior
brothers haven’t left for long, but he is already impatient.

It’s as if the Heavens create such a person to trouble him, so that he

gets to learn the feeling of “It’s hard to meet you, even harder to part
with you.”1

Watching from the outside, Tang Zhen comments. “The bond

between fellow disciples in your esteemed sect is really admirable.”

That gets Cheng Qian to collect himself and withdraw his gaze. He
says, “Sorry to delay you, Tang-xiong.”

Tang Zhen doesn’t seem to mind. “It’s no problem. I’m slow too.”
Nian Dada, who has been nearby, barges in the conversation.
“What’s the problem, Senior Tang? Was there conflict in your home
sect?”

“The problem isn’t conflict or not,” Tang Zhen squints his eyes a little,
like he is recalling something. A shadow of loneliness passing over
his face, he says, “For Fuyao Sect, it’s quality over quantity. My
Mulan Mountain was the opposite. The sect was too big. There were
many elders under the sect leader, each of whom occupied their own
mountain peak and trained the disciples separately. I was there for
several centuries, but didn’t even know all of the elders. The only
occasion to meet most other disciples was something like a grand
tournament. We didn’t even know each other, so having a bond was
out of question. Everyone in the sect was treated solely on the basis
of their talent and ability. The hierarchy was strict, so the atmosphere
was frosty.”

Glancing at Cheng Qian, Tang Zhen says, “To treat each other so
warmly, you don’t seem like a sect. More like a family.”

Nian Dada says, “A big sect will have many members, so the
hierarchy will be stricter. The disciples will naturally drift apart from
each other. There is no other way about it. However, among the
disciples, there should be one or two that are close to you?”

Tang Zhen says, “Indeed. I had a junior sister who grew up with me.
She… was rather hard to live with as an adult, but when we were
young, she was pretty close to me.”

This is the second time Cheng Qian hears him mention a junior
sister. He asks, “Is your junior sister’s name Tang Wanqiu?”

“Yes, that’s her,” Tang Zhen says without looking back, “But the so-
called ‘senior brother and junior sister’ between us was just the
positions in the hierarchy. We were close as children, but when we
grew up, we went our own ways. On Mulan Mountain, everyone was
just a passer-by. In the present, even if she stood right in front of me,
I’m not sure I’d recognise her. I know your sect has a history with
her. Now that she is no longer in this world, no need to repay what
she did via me.”

Tang Zhen is both tactful in a chilly way and straightforward. It’s

unclear if that’s his personality from birth or something he gets from
years of walking between life and death. He takes no disciple. Nor
does he return to his home sect. He doesn’t even mention Mulan
Mountain. All he does is wander the world. Everyone he meets is just
a fellow traveller of the moment to him.
Pretending to be rogue cultivators who drift to Nanjiang, the group
hire a horse carriage, then walk across mountains and rivers like
mortals to the South.

Neither Cheng Qian nor Tang Zhen likes to gossip. Feeling

uncomfortable, Nian Dada has no other choice than to poke at Liu
Lang, who is the easiest to pick on. When Cheng Qian was in
danger, Liu Lang was willing to risk everything for him. However,
when it’s quiet, he dares not say anything to Cheng Qian. He only
follows from a distance and hides in the darkness, hanging his head
like he doesn’t want to meet anyone.

Nian Dada runs to Liu Lang and whispers. “Hey, buddy, I want to join
Fuyao Sect, to become a disciple of Elder Cheng. Do you want to
join me?”
Liu Lang glances at Cheng Qian’s back in front of him. Then he
quickly looks away and shakes his head silently.
Mistaking that Liu Lang is ignorant, Nian Dada hastens to explain
noisily. “Oh, you may not know about things like this. Let me tell you,
those who have formed their primordial spirits like them have the
ability to move the world. Forget mortals, even cultivators of smaller
sects may go through their lives without meeting a cultivator who has
formed their primordial spirit.”

Liu Lang just quietly listens without saying anything.

Nian Dada likes to act superior. Seeing that Liu Lang is paying
attention to him, he becomes even more enthusiastic. “Furthermore,
cultivators who have formed primordial spirits aren’t the same. You
see, among the seniors from Fuyao Sect, our Elder Cheng… Well,
no need to explain about him. Their sect leader is a sword cultivator!
That was the first time I met a sword cultivator in the flesh. Although
he wasn’t very nice, that’s no problem, because just having talked to
a sword cultivator who has gone further than forming his primordial
spirit one time is enough for me to show off for years.”

Liu Lang shakes his head and says, hoarsely and with difficulty.
“Tang Zhenren saved my life, so I have to serve him properly. Also,
my ability is poor, so I’ll just be a burden to Cheng Zhenren. All I can
do is to remember the debt, in order to repay it later.”

Hearing that, Nian Dada is at a loss. He says to Liu Lang, “H-hey,

maybe Elder Cheng will be willing to accept you as his disciple.”

Hanging his head, Liu Lang doesn’t say anything else.

On this trip, their group gets attacked by demonic cultivators of all
levels a dozen times within just a short distance.

As he takes down with just one strike two demonic cultivators who
break in at night with the intention of murder and robbery, Cheng
Qian feels he can claim to have killed people like crushing ants. A
bloody layer of frost forms on Shuang Ren, while, unintentionally, a
killing aura appears on Cheng Qian, making him seem even harder
to approach.

In Nanjiang, ever since a demonic dragon appeared, the demonic

cultivators have become very active, as if they are planning a
rebellion. They gather from various corners and form a faction, then
follow a very simple but brutal tactics: killing every resident of a city
and occupying the place. A bloody aura covers the city, the towers of
which are covered with human heads, as the pure energy of the city
is corrupted. Thus, a demonic city has been created.

The thing is, the Ice-hearted Fire is right inside the demonic city.

The “Ice-hearted Fire” isn’t a real fire but a special stone. This
artifact is said to have an outer layer that is cold like thousand-year
permafrost, while inside it is a divine jade full of sacred energy. The
stone can preserve a body for thousands of years, but it doesn’t
freeze the body, but keep it as new, like the person has just stopped
breathing. It is the sacred stone that was placed in the foundation of
the great Zhaoyang City in Nanjiang.
Between the heat and the unfavourable energy, Nanjiang has an
extremely unpleasant climate. However, thanks to the Ice-hearted
Fire, Zhaoyang City has a spring-like climate for the whole year. That
attracts merchants from everywhere, which helped it become the
greatest city of Nanjiang. Now, that quality is a boon for those
demonic cultivators.

Nian Dada innocently comments, “I’ve been thinking that the ‘Ice-
hearted Fire’ is the founding treasure of this city, so no way they
would hand it over to us. We can’t commit fraud or robbery either.
But it’s easy now. As Zhaoyang City is taken over by demonic
cultivators, we can use any tactics we want without stepping out of
line. Indeed being early isn’t as useful as coming at the right time.”
There is no way Cheng Qian believes that this is a coincidence. He
gives Tang Zhen a meaningful look.

Unexpectedly, Tang Zhen casually places his cards on the table.

“The right time? I predicted early on that there would be unrest in the
South, so I came here specifically to take advantage of the situation.
The so-called ‘to know Heaven’s Will’ is no other than to observe
events everywhere, in combination of some basic divination skill.
Recently, demonic energy has been gathering in Nanjiang. All of the
big sects have been having unusual activities. The Celestial
Divination Bureau have sent many powerful fighters here. So, I
thought it was the right time. Still, I couldn’t predict that a demonic
dragon would appear and cause such upheavals.”
Cheng Qian is startled. Why would Han Yuan specifically choose to
transform into a dragon? Furthermore, he flew northward. Can it be
that his target was the imperial capital?

Can it be… He still holds the grudge over falling victim to Zhou
Hanzheng’s ‘drawing on soul’ spell back then, and wants to pick a
fight with the imperial court?

Even if Cheng Qian and Tang Zhen have been acquainted for a long
time, they aren’t really close because of their personalities. There is
always some distance between them. However, they can be more
frank with each other than to other people. Cheng Qian asks directly,
“Tang-xiong, there is something I’d like to ask you…”

Tang Zhen understands his unspoken question. “About your Fourth

Brother?”

“Indeed,” Cheng Qian asks, “In your opinion, is it true that my Fourth
Brother has two souls in the same body?”

Under Fuyao Mountain, not recognising Puddle, who had grown up,
there was one Han Yuan who did everything to release the stranger,
but there was another who was prepared to kill her without
hesitation.
Under the heavenly tribulation, there was one Han Yuan who coldly
planned to pull out Puddle’s yao skeleton while she was still alive,
but there was another who risked everything and withdrew the
demonic energy to save her.
“From what I can see, you still don’t understand what ‘guided by the
demon of the heart’ is like,” Tang Zhen says, “The other one within
him isn’t a separate entity, but his own demon of the heart that he
has cultivated. At his level, that demon of the heart has no longer
been under his control for a long time. On the contrary, it attacks the
original self. So, in your opinion, how should we think about that?
The demon of the heart is both him and not him. His deepest hatred
is no different from that demon of the heart. But, if your most senior
brother insists that he has been possessed by a demonic being,
there are arguments for that view too.”

Cheng Qian asks, “Why did he end up like this?”

“I don’t know. It’s all guesswork,” Tang Zhen thinks for a moment,
then says without holding back, “Take me as an example. I’m
currently a wandering ghost, who yearns to have a body again even
when I sleep. Possessing another person’s body is of course the
best solution. That body wouldn’t rot, while I would gain the
cultivation of the original owner. Possession is an immoral art, but I
do know how to do it. I just don’t want to. Yet, it’d be really
convenient if I had a demon of the heart. If I were unwilling to do
something that I wished to, that demon could do the deed in place of
me. I would have what I want, while being able to argue that it isn’t
my own will. I would stay innocent while still reaping the benefits,
isn’t it?”
Although Tang Zhen claims to ‘not know’, his tone is sharp as a
knife. Cheng Qian is momentarily at a loss for words.

Tang Zhen raises his voice again. “Did you get along with the junior
brother who follows the demonic path?”

Squeezing Shuang Ren, Cheng Qian replies quietly, his voice stuck
in his throat. “Closer than with my blood siblings.”
Tang Zhen smiles gently. “That makes sense. He had low cultivation.
When his sect was in danger, he couldn’t help with dealing with the
enemy. Even worse, he got used by the enemy to kill you. How could
he meet his fellow sect members again? How could he look at
himself? So, mustering his determination, he took advantage of the
remaining influence of the mind control, then went with the flow and
let his demon of the heart take him to the wrong path. To be guided
by the demon of the heart, one has to be both strong and weak to
become successful. Looks like your Fourth Brother is a rare talent
too.”

“Let’s stop talking,” Cheng Qian suddenly stands up. Rueing that he
can’t immediately return to Yan Zhengming and the others, he says
quickly, “Tang-xiong, tonight I’ll get the Ice-hearted Fire for you.
Please tell me the plan.”

Demonic cultivators like to indulge their vices, so the demonic city

doesn’t sleep.
That night, Cheng Qian sneaks into the city alone.

He hides his living aura and crosses the layers of blood stench
mixed with demonic energy. Then he takes out the map of the city
that Tang Zhen gave him, and carefully compares with the real site.
He hesitates a little. The inner city has three towers for the bells and
drums. The Ice-hearted Fire is located in an empty yard in the
middle, so that it can protect everything around from the local
unfavourable climate. Cheng Qian’s original plan was to sneak in
and dig the stone up, then escape without being noticed.
Unfortunately, the spot where the Ice-hearted Fire is located is
already used by these unwashed demonic cultivators to build an
absurd pavilion.

Staring at the pavilion full of an infernal aura in front of him, Cheng

Qian faces a dilemma. As he hides by the corner of the street, he
doesn’t know if he should charge in directly, kill everyone, and rob
the stone, or if he should quietly sneak in and go with the flow.

At that moment, uneven footsteps can be heard from the corner of

the street.
A demonic cultivator, who is nearly stark naked, drunkenly walks in
Cheng Qian’s direction.

In the beginning, Cheng Qian doesn’t pay much attention to him.

After he hides his living energy, the demonic cultivators all consider
him to be a human-shaped doll and ignores him.

However, the newcomer is rather unusual. As soon as he sees

Cheng Qian from afar, he curiously approaches and walks around
Cheng Qian. Seeing that Cheng Qian’s face is unmoving and his
body has no sign of a living being, the demonic cultivator giggles and
touches his face. Sniffing, he says, “Who forgot a doll here? Such
high quality goods, I must take advantage of this.”

As soon as he says that, this lecherous demonic cultivator sticks his

hands inside Cheng Qian’s robe.

Cheng Qian: “…”

He immediately has a full-body cringe.

That demonic cultivator seems to be really drunk. Swaying a little, he

says, “Oh, why does this thing look like it can move? Your owner
must have a lot of fun, haha.”

Unable to stand it anymore, Cheng Qian lets loose his sharp, frosty
aura. The demonic cultivator is startled. As he becomes awake
again, he meets a pair of eyes full of killing intent. Right after that, a
chilly blade pierces his throat before he can make a sound.

After this incident, Cheng Qian immediately shelves the plan of

‘carefully mixing with those inside’. He turns into an illusion and flies
to the wall of the pavilion.
There are several bodies along the wall. Some of them likely died
not so long ago, as the spiritual energy still lingers. It can be seen
that they’re cultivators. Looking at them, Cheng Qian discovers that
none of the bodies are whole. They either miss limbs or only the
head remains, with the body missing.

In a corner there is a female cultivator, who looks a bit like Puddle.

Cheng Qian is so startled that he can’t help looking more closely.
She has fine features, and her forehead even has a cinnabar-
coloured beauty mark. The lady is much prettier than his skinny little
sister, who runs around with chicken feathers on her hair.
Unfortunately, the remaining part of her body from the chest is
nowhere to be seen.

Seeing a beauty meeting such a terrible end, even someone with a

heart of iron like Cheng Qian wouldn’t want a second look. He
clutches Shuang Ren, then using the wall to hide himself, he jumps
on the roof of the pavilion.

At that moment, Cheng Qian realises that this pavilion isn’t

constructed the normal way. It is actually an artifact. From the
outside, it seems to be as big as an ordinary tavern, but on the inside
it is enormous, with many floors.
He looks inside and sees that there are hundreds of demonic
cultivators, who are revelling in a craze. There is a strange odour
that flies up to the roof. It is a mixture of sweetness and a bloody
tang, which makes Cheng Qian queasy.

In the bottom floor of the pavilion, there is a hidden chamber, in

which many people are held. It’s too far, so Cheng Qian can’t tell if
they’re cultivators or mortals. All he can see is that some demonic
cultivators open the door, then use huge chains to drag out a young
man.
The man’s robe is originally white, the front of which is full of blood
which has dried up and blackened. In a half-dead state, he is
dragged out and hung up on the high platform in the middle of the
yard.

A short demonic cultivator with a bare torso enters the platform. His
hand holding a steel whip, in the presence of the crowd, he walks
around and whips the man so hard that blood flies everywhere. The
crowd gets excited and shouts loudly, as if they were at a festival.

Cheng Qian gets curious, so he stops and looks. He senses that the
way that short demonic cultivator hits the man looks brutal, but he
doesn’t seem to wish his victim to die. Cheng Qian asks himself,
“Does he want to keep his victim alive to torture him slowly? Or does
he have some mercy left and want to spare that person’s life?”

Before Cheng Qian finishes his line of thought, some demonic

cultivators of all genders climb on the platform. To borrow his most
senior brother’s words, they are an eyesore, but heedless of that
fact, they take forever to walk a few steps, as they twist and turn
every part of their bodies on the way like a bunch of two-legged
snakes.

Cheng Qian is astonished, thinking, “What on earth are they doing?”

Right after that, he gapes, as those demonic cultivators gathers by

the man who is being hung up, and begins to violate that half-dead
person. Acting shy while shedding their clothes, they start an orgy
around the poor sod.
Cheng Qian: “…”

What the hell is this place?!

*******
1. This is the first line in the poem Untitled by Li Shang Yin. The full
text (copied from this site) is as follows:
相見時難別亦難，
東風無力百花殘。
春蠶到死絲方盡，
蠟炬成灰淚始幹。
曉鏡但愁雲鬢改，
夜吟應覺月光寒。
蓬萊此去無多路，
青鳥殷勤為探看。
My rough attempt at translating the meaning (based on Vietnamese
translation):
It's hard to meet you, harder to part with you
The zephyr is weak, so all flowers wither
The silk worm of spring gives out its thread until death
The candle sheds its tears until it is no more
Looking at my image in the mirror at dawn, I realise with sorrow that my hair has turned
gray
Reading poems alone at night, I suddenly feel how cold the moonlight is
The Divine Realm isn't far from here
So, Blue Bird, please bring her news to me
 Liu Yao - Chapter 68

Thanks a lot to MrMissMrsRandom for the edits!

*******
“Demonic cultivators have no morals, so their acts are unrestrained.
Nanjiang is their main den too. You’re indeed powerful in your own
ways, but you don’t necessarily know as many tricks as they do.
Please leave as soon as you acquire the Ice-hearted Fire, and try
not to fight them directly in the city. If you want to fight them anyway,
remember to get out of the city first.”
Those words are the advice Tang Zhen gave Cheng Qian before he
left. He isn’t so reckless as to throw them all away after just a few
seconds into the mission.

However, seeing this scene, Cheng Qian is reminded of the half-

naked demonic cultivator he encountered earlier by the gate. His
anger flares up again, as he itches to tear apart this infernal hive of
scum.

He suppresses the waves of cringes on his body. It takes reciting the

Scripture of Serenity on the spot for him to calm his temper and his
hand, which moved on its own to the scabbard.
Afterwards, Cheng Qian signs a spell. Taking advantage of the
various shadows in the pavilion to cover him, he keeps close to the
wall and flies down.
Luckily, there are people present, but they are all occupied with their
lustful entertainment. No one pays attention to Cheng Qian, as if he
were just the smoke from an incense burner.

Cheng Qian hides himself behind a bamboo curtain. Trying his best
to block out the cringe-worthy activities around him, he begins his
search for the Ice-hearted Fire and takes out a little jade turtle Tang
Zhen gave him. Only about as big as two fingers of an adult hand,
the jade turtle is all green and so transparent that it glistens. It crawls
in a circle on his fingertips, its round head examining the air. Then,
opening its mouth as if being hungry for something, it stops and
looks toward one direction.

Cheng Qian follows its gaze and feels like he was struck by lightning.
This damn thing looks in the direction of the platform!

Suspecting that the brain of the turtle is broken, he turns it upside-

down. Being placed on its back, the little turtle still squirms with its
short legs in the air, and stubbornly turns to that platform.

It can be seen that, either this bastard is a lecherous demon among

the turtles, or the Ice-hearted Fire happens to be under the platform.

Cheng Qian sighs, feeling that he has been provoked to rashness by

the issue of Han Yuan. He shouldn’t have gone out that night after
all.

However, he has already gone this far. Cheng Qing glances around,
then runs to the place where the captives are being kept. With a
quick flash, his body is covered in a layer of frost, which makes the
guards freeze on the spot. Cheng Qian quickly reaches the hidden
prison. At the same time, he releases his spiritual energy and neatly
cuts apart the lock on the cage.
Although he doesn’t make noise, the more alert demonic cultivators
nearby still notice him. One of them yells. “Who is sneaking around
there?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t stop. Still, he is filled with disgust. He doesn’t

know how this lot can be so brazen as to accuse other people of
shady things.

Planning to get this over with as quickly as possible, he makes the

thin frost covering his body disperse, causing a blizzard in the
pavilion. Then, when the others don’t manage to react yet, he
pushes the iron cage out with a strike of his sword.

This is a truly asshole move. Most of the demonic cultivators present

are naked, so their bare asses have to suffer the harsh snowstorm.
Chaos immediately reigns over the place.

Taking advantage of the situation, Cheng Qian sneaks to the

platform and makes a sudden attack. As Shuang Ren makes a slash
as bright as snow in the air, he cuts the platform into two in one
stroke. He neatly clears up the stone shards as well as the demonic
cultivators who haven’t escaped, then releases the little turtle that
has been squirming.

When it lands on the ground, the thumb-size turtle becomes as large

as a small hill. It stands proudly in the centre, as if it were a natural
part of the place. Opening its mouth, the turtle jade takes in a deep
breath that seems to contain the essence of the world. The entire
pavilion shakes, as a large stone underneath the destroyed platform
gradually emerges, as if it wanted to leave the ground.

At that moment, in the chaotic crowd of the demonic cultivators, one

with the rare proper attires appears. On the balcony of the highest
floor, a man in a long robe, whose face is completely covered, walks
through the crowd and shouts. “Where’d you from, little bandit? Do
you want to die?!”

Cheng Qian feels that there is no way he can calmly deal with this
‘little bandit’ tone.

Standing on that vantage point, the man in the log robe makes his
attack through the air without a care about collateral damage.
Under the miasma-filled strike, the snow storm Cheng Qian created
gradually disperses. A demonic cultivator with low cultivation doesn’t
manage to escape in time, and gets devoured by the hypnotic dark
cloud. The cloud leaves only the bones, which are cleaner than
chicken bones that underwent a beggar’s meal!
Even this infernal place has a guardian. Cheng Qian snorts and
jumps on the neck of the jade turtle. Shuang Ren leaves his hand, as
the chilly frost will charges upward like a whirlwind and overthrows
without holding back both the demonic cultivator’s attack as well as
the roof of the pavilion. The cold sword energy in the pavilion
clashes with the hot and humid wind of Nanjiang, and causes water
droplets to fall everywhere with a buzzing sound.

The sword wind sweeps by the long-robe clad demonic cultivator on

the balcony, forcing him to fall back and avoid the attack. In a blink of
an eye, the jade turtle takes the opportunity and swallows the Ice-
hearted Fire.
Seeing that the artifact he came for has been obtained, Cheng Qian
makes the jade turtle turn back to thumb-sized and puts it away in
his sleeve. Even he feels that he has overdone it by causing such a
great disturbance, so he prepares to escape. However, at that
moment, someone cries from the hidden prison in a corner. “Senior,
please save us! We’re disciples of Xiliang’s White Tiger Estate!”
Earlier, Cheng Qian destroyed the hidden prison not because he
wanted to save those inside, but because he needed a distraction.
However, he feels that he has already done everything he should. If
their abilities are only so much, they have only themselves to blame.

Obviously, he doesn’t believe that the lives of the White Tiger

Estate’s disciples are worth more than those of other people’s.
Nevertheless, when he hears that introduction, Cheng Qian can’t
help pausing a little, for no other reason than the fact that one of the
keys to the ‘Earth’ lock of Fuyao Mountain is in the possession of the
Lord of White Tiger Estate.

Cheng Qian doesn’t know why his Master arranged the ‘Earth’ lock
like that, but he can’t ignore his most senior brother’s burden.
Whether it’s a lie or the truth, he has to act as soon as he hears the
name ‘White Tiger Estate’.

As soon as Cheng Qian gets close to the hidden prison, a group of

demonic cultivators charges at him. With one stroke, he creates a
great wave that sweeps these monkeys away, then appears in front
of the one who called out to him.

That person is a young man. He has a lively face and eyes that are
so bright they seem to give off light. Cheng Qian was worried he
would be trouble, but seeing those eyes, he can’t help liking their
owner a little. That young man was only grasping at straws, but
Cheng Qian unexpectedly turns back for real to help, so he is very
happy.

Still, no matter how happy he is, his brain is still working. As soon as
he sees Cheng Qian, he quickly mentions the most important thing.
“Senior, there are spells of restriction on the chain we are bound
with!”
Hearing that, Cheng Qian doesn’t waste his time talking, but
immediately slashes the chain with his sword. With a clang, Shuang
Ren clashes with the chain, but it isn’t even dented.

“Using force won’t work,” The young man hastily says, “Let me think
of another way, Senior. Careful!”

Some demonic cultivators are trying to attack Cheng Qian from

behind.

Cheng Qian doesn’t even bother to look back. In his hand, Shuang
Ren makes a wide slash. This killer sword rarely has the chance to
engage in a bout of killing like this. The snow-bright tip of the sword
is dyed in red, its blade trembles like a living being. Filling the space
it passes with killing intent, the sword cuts off a series of head. Then,
carrying the blood that has been splattering around, it returns and
strikes at the same spot on the chain before the young man can say
anything.
The young man can’t find his voice, as the killer sword and the
demonic spell ferociously attack each other time and time again.
Each subsequent clash is more brutal than the one before. In that life
or death fight, the black energy and the frost tangles with each other,
such that it’s nigh impossible to tell them apart.

Under the pressures from both sides, the chained young man can’t
even open his eyes, thinking that this person looks so elegant, but
acts like a brute.

In the end, the more ferocious side wins.

As the young man gapes, a crack appears on the enchanted chain
that binds him. Demonic energy pours out like black smoke over ash.
The remaining chain is only regular iron, which breaks at the
slightest movement.
Cheng Qian points and shoots a ray of white light that transforms
into the shape of a flying horse into the sky. This is the signal to
inform Tang Zhen that he has succeeded and is about to escape, so
that his allies can get ready to support him.
Demonic energy from all sides gathers like a thunderstorm and
relentlessly targets Cheng Qian, but he blocks it with Shuang Ren.

At the frontline, Cheng Qian holds a Shuang Ren that has become
extremely heavy and tells the young man without looking back. “Stay
well away.”
Having seen this person’s ability, the young man quickly grasps the
situation and does what he is told. He gets out of the pavilion without
looking back.

Cheng Qian suddenly changes his posture. Then, using the blade
that has been carrying the burden of the demonic energy, he strikes
at the ground. A deep crack emerges in Zhaoyang City after the
slash. Demonic energy from all sides falls apart, as the buildings that
have been used as demons’ dens collapse. Either Cheng Qian
doesn’t bother at all, or he will finish a deed completely once he has
started it. Thus, he releases all of the unlucky sods that have been
held in the hidden prison.

Most of the prisoners here are cultivators. They must have been
suffering all kinds of torture in this infernal den. Suddenly having
their freedom back, their eyes all redden.

A chaotic battle begins.

As soon as Cheng Qian feels that he can take advantage of the

chaos and escape, the sound of pipa comes from an unknown place,
Through the ears, it goes straight into one’s organ and disturbs the
spiritual energy of the entire body.
Right away, the pipa music is like a sieging army that fills the entire
Zhaoyang City. The cloying sweetness, which has been
overwhelmed by the stench of blood, floods the place out of
nowhere, causing one’s limbs to lose strength. Cheng Qian suddenly
feels like he has fallen into a pile of cotton. An indescribable
weakness fills his limbs and veins. There is a voice whispering in his
ears, as a pair of soft hands caress his waist, the fingers of which
make his skin tingle.
Unfortunately for that demonic cultivator, his enchantment meets a
block of iron. Cheng Qian doesn’t easily fall to sexual seduction by
nature. Furthermore, he has just witnessed all kinds of questionable
acts in the demonic den. His body filled with cringes, he angrily
waves Shuang Ren around like a whirlwind and strikes at everything
in the way, regardless of whether it’s a beauty or a skeleton.
Smelling the strange scent lingering on his body, Cheng Qian wants
nothing more than to be able to find a spring and scrub himself.

Seeing his iron will, someone grumbles quietly from somewhere

nearby. The tone of the pipa music immediately changes. There is
the sound of a leaf flute mixing in it, which is thin and low, but seeps
relentlessly in one’s ear.
Cheng Qian is dizzy, as an illusion appears again. Within seconds,
countless faces flash in his heart. Then, the cloying sweetness all
disappears without a trace. In its stead is the familiar scent of orchid.
The arms that wrapped over him earlier transforms into a thin
smoke. Then someone he knows very well stands not far from him.
Holding a fan in his hand, that person looks at Cheng Qian with
gentle, smiling eyes. There is a ring with coin mounting on his hand.

Cheng Qian: “…”

He can’t help falling into a daze. Fortunately, it doesn’t last long.
Right away, an identical coin ring falls into his palm. This is the real
ring that he took from the original.

The imitation spirit in the ring emerges like a ghost. Not caring what
its target is, the spirit slaps the illusion in front of it, and breaks the
demonic farce. Then, with an arrogant gaze, it gloomily returns to the
ring.

This silly imitation spirit turns out to be unexpectedly useful in getting

rid of infernal tricks.

Cheng Qian becomes awake again. His ears heating up, he feels
that he won’t be able to look at himself in the mirror in the near
future.

He waves Shuang Ren around. The vapour in the air freezes into a
huge ice stick, which clashes with the sword blade. That noise
quickly disperses the pipa music, and the overwhelming illusion
around vanishes in the thick fog.

Cheng Qian finally realises that pipa strings are hung all over the
walls of Zhaoyang City. They give off sounds by themselves when
the wind blows by, and creates an array of illusion in the city. On a
city wall, there is a demonic cultivator with an adrogynous
appearance, who is holding a pipa in his arms. Giving Cheng Qian a
cold glance, he immediately disappears.

The young man lands next to Cheng Qian. Panting, he says, “This
demon is the chief of a branch called ‘Merriment Sect’ in the
Nightmare Travellers. They’re truly degenerate. Ah, I am Zhuang
Nanxi, disciple of White Tiger Estate. I was sent here by my sect to
investigate this great gathering of these demonic cultivators. I fell to
this one’s trick because I didn’t know it. Senior, how should I address
you?”
“Fuyao, Cheng Qian,” Cheng Qian throws out that concise line, then
flies into the air and strikes at the demonic cultivator who is about to
blow the horn on the bell tower in Zhaoyang City. From that vantage
point, he glances at Zhuang Nanxi and says, “Why are you still here?
Do you want to get mobbed by the whole demonic city?”

Hearing that, Zhuang Naxi jumps on a great tree in the city. From his
movement, a great bow is formed. Like a giant bird, Zhuang Nanxi
dives from the high place to the ‘bowstring’ and says loudly, “Xiao-Qi,
lend me some fire.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, a youth with a small stature emerges and

quickly signs a spell. He spits out a chilly fire, which flies like a
shooting star towards Zhuang Nanxi, then says, “This is the last
one.”

As Zhuang Nanxi makes a whistle, the indigo fire grows longer and
transforms into an arrow, which gets into the position in the bow and
shoots off. With a wind ripping sound, the fire arrow flies to the sky
then explodes into thousands of dancing flames, which turn
Zhaoyang City into a sea of fire as they meet the ground.

Zhuang Nanxi makes a long whistle and gets several whistles from
the surrounding in reply. Several shadows quickly follow the order
and withdraw from the city, showing good training and discipline.

Watching from outside, Cheng Qian is moved a little. Compared to

the disciples of Azure Dragon Island who are in a perpetual funerary
mood, and the Vermilion Bird Tower that dies without leaving
anything behind, the disciples of White Tiger Estate will have a bright
future, despite their lack of experience.

Under Cheng Qian’s supervision, the group destroys the gate of

Zhaoyang City and runs in the northern direction, as many demonic
cultivators chase after them.
Zhuang Nanxi asks Cheng Qian loudly, “Senior, how can we leave
them behind?”
Cheng Qian says, “No need.”

As soon as he says that, a black flag falls from the sky. It passes by
Cheng Qian’s group and precisely traps the demonic cultivators
below.

In the sky, together with Liu Lang and Nian Dada, Tang Zhen is
waiting for him with a flying horse that he got from somewhere.

“Put this away,” Placing the jade turtle with the Ice-hearted Fire
inside in Tang Zhen’s lap, Cheng Qian says, “We shouldn’t tarry
here. Let’s go!”

Nian Dada has already been terrified by the demonic energy that fills
the sky. As soon as he hears this, he immediately waves his whip
and makes the flying horse run like mad.
Nian Dada urges, “Disciple uncle, quick.”

Not paying him any mind, Cheng Qian fearlessly stays on the spot.

In a blink of an eye, a hole appears on Tang Zhen’s black flag. Pipa

in hands, the Merriment Sect’s Chief and his subordinates already
catch up, but he stops at a distance from Cheng Qian.
This place is already outside the demonic city, so there are no longer
traps and snares from demonic energy for the Merriment Sect’s
Chief to rely on. He suddenly regrets losing his temper and charging
out.
Except for the extraordinary talents, when one falls in the demonic
paths, one is always a little behind when it comes to raw power in
battles.
In the middle of the sky, Cheng Qian is alone on his sword. His
sleeves flutter in the wind like sails. However, for some reason,
everyone keeps a wide berth from him. A strange, quiet mood
spreads under the Southern Sky and suffocates everyone.

Glancing at the running back of Zhuang Nanxi’s group, the

Merriment Sect Chief carefully raises his voice. “Sir, may I ask what
grudge you have against my sect? Why do you assault Zhaoyang
City for no reason?”

This demonic cultivator is truly shameless. He considers Zhaoyang

City to be his base after just a short while.

“Not at all. I’m no sage who fights for righteousness. Just,” Fixing his
gaze on the pipa on the hand of the Merriment Sect’s Chief as he
speaks, Cheng Qian slowly unsheaths Shuang Ren. The steel of the
blade rubs at the scabbard and gives off an ear-piercing sound. He
smiles coldly. “Making your dirty thing take the appearance of my
sect leader, you sure are bold!”

Right after that, Shuang Ren angrily makes its attack. The power
that Cheng Qian held in when he was in the demonic city finally gets
loose and bares it fangs, giving off a frosty aura.

Terrified, the Chief of Merriment Sect grasps the pipa’s strings. With
a dull sound, the strings all break, as the loud noise charges at
Cheng Qian. At the same time, the so-called Chief immediately runs
away after making that strike, without caring if his subordinates are
dead or alive.

Unfortunately, he too can’t run far.

As his heart is pierced from behind, he hears the low voice of his
enemy. “Remember this blade. In the next life, think carefully if you
can take it before you violate someone’s taboo.”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 69

Thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the edits!

*******

Even after finishing off that demonic cultivator, Cheng Qian is still
restless, as if a bone were stuck in his throat.

Is it really that serious? He himself makes fun of his most senior

brother all the time, disregarding the hierarchy. However, the
discomfort doesn’t go away, as if something in him has been poked
at.

In this mood, Cheng Qian is mad at Han Yuan too. What kind of
lowlives has he been hanging out with all these years?

Slapping him really wasn’t enough.

Knowing that Tang Zhen definitely won’t wait for him after acquiring
the Ice-hearted Fire, Cheng Qian doesn’t stay. He ruthlessly cuts off
the Nanjiang demonic cultivators and leaves this infernal place.
However, he doesn’t know where to go. Logically, he is already done
with his task, so he should return to the North with his most senior
brother. However, for some reason, Cheng Qian doesn’t want to face
Yan Zhengming at the moment.

That day seems to be a day when his wishes are granted. Just as he
reaches the outskirts of Nanjiang, Cheng Qian runs into Zhuang
Nanxi, who has been waiting for him for a while.
Zhuang Nanxi let all of his fellow disciples leave, and has been
staying behind at this spot and waiting for a good while. As soon as
he sees Cheng Qian, he comes to greet him. “Senior Cheng! Thank
you for saving us. Without you, we would have all died here.”

This young man is very clever. His ability isn’t poor either, so Cheng
Qian has good impression of him. Waving his hand, he says, “No
need to stand on ceremony. I’m no senior. It’s nothing, I just
happened to be there.”

Zhuan Nanxi looks a bit confused. “Senior, then you infiltrated

Zhaoyang City only because that ice stone?”

Cheng Qian doesn’t know why he would ask such a question. He

doesn’t take issue with it either, saying. “That’s true. What’s the
matter?”

Zhuang Nanxi says with some haste. “A few days ago, we fell into
the trap of those demonic cultivators. A junior sister from my sect
was lucky enough to escape. Senior, when I saw you, I thought you
were reinforcement she brought.”

Cheng Qian says, “Wouldn’t your junior sister have a means to

contact your home sect? Why should she have brought a random
stranger to save you?”

Zhuang Nanxi can’t find any reply. He smiles ruefully. “About that…
‘junior sister’ is just my way to address her. She is… a friend on the
same path. Uhm, I think you might meet her already.”

In fact, Cheng Qian only asks out of whims. He isn’t really interested
in the topic, so he says, “You wait for me here specifically because of
her? What does she look like?”
Zhuang Nanxi immediately launches into an enthusiastic description,
using all flowery words. After a tidal wave of ‘the moon pales next to
her’, all Cheng Qian can get out of him is that the person is a
beautiful woman. The rest of the speech is all useless. The question
slips out of Cheng Qian’s lips. “Is she your lover?”

Zhuang Nanxi: “…”

He doesn’t expect to be asked so bluntly, so he glances at Cheng

Qian with embarrassment, as a blush spreads all over his face. For a
man, Zhuang Nanxi has eyes that are too lively, as if they could
speak. All of his feelings can be read from them.

Cheng Qian inwardly frowns, as he can’t help being reminded of the

farce of the demonic cultivators in Zhaoyang City. He thinks to
himself, “Why don’t you concentrate on your cultivation instead of
wasting time on such frivolity? How can you call yourself a disciple of
a great sect? Looks like you can’t even compare to the mourners on
Azure Dragon Island. At least they have some focus.”

As soon as that thought flashes in his head, Cheng Qian

immediately loses all patience to deal with Zhuang Nanxi. However,
in light of the fact that he is a disciple of White Tiger Estate and
they’ll likely meet again, he has to suppress that sentiment.

After all, cultivators are still human. They can’t avoid getting
entangled in the usual affairs of life. Even if Cheng Qian doesn’t care
about himself, he has to keep in mind what’s good for his sect. No
matter how impatient he is, he has to make an effort, so he says,
“Cultivating women I’ve met aren’t that different from your
descriptions. I can’t tell her apart just with that.”

“Right, right, I overlook that,” Zhuang Nanxi rubs his hands with
some embarrassment, then continues, “She has an elegant face.
There is a cinnabar beauty mark on her forehead. It really stands
out, so you’ll definitely remember it if you have met her.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He asks out of empty courtesy. Unexpectedly, he has really seen that

person. Many people decorate themselves with a cinnabar beauty
mark on the forehead, but very few are born with it. Isn’t the person
Zhuang Nanxi describes the dead woman outside the pavillion?”

She didn’t escape under the cover of the chaos. She was
unsuccessful.

Cheng Qian wants to say a chilly ‘condolences’. However, as he

looks into Zhuang Nanxi’s eyes, he can’t say anything for some
reason. Cheng Qian very rarely sees something like that in
cultivators. That desire and longing, as if simply describing the
person to a stranger is enough to bring great joy to him.

“Still lost in his obsession,” Cheng Qian thinks to himself.

Despite that thought, his earlier overwhelming annoyance fades

away. Someone with so much love and loyalty, no matter what kind
of love that is, will move hearts.

In that moment, Cheng Qian doesn’t know what to say to Zhuang

Nanxi.

Seeing that Cheng Qian doesn’t reply, disappointment passes by

Zhuang Nanxi’s face as he says, “Oh, looks like she missed you. Let
me look around for her.”

Cheng Qian suddenly says, “To daydream about a female cultivator

who has nothing to do with you, don’t you mind that it may affect
your cultivation?”
In his impression, mortals get married only for the needs of their
daily life, to take care of the chores and continue the family line.
Cultivators don’t need to worry about these issues. Furthermore, in
the righteous path, cultivating one’s energy requires connection with
heaven and earth, as well as a pure mind that is free from desires.
Therefore, cultivators become partners mostly to establish relations
between sects for exchange of cultivating techniques.

They have to struggle against heaven and earth, against the cruelty
of society, and against demons in their own hearts. Except for
demonic cultivators, who indulge their vices, who wants to fall into
something as pointless as romantic love?

However, Cheng Qian regrets it as soon as the words leave his lips.
He tells himself, “That was absurd. It has nothing to do with you.
Why would you ask?”

Fortunately, Zhuang Nanxi doesn’t mind. He says casually, “My

seniors at White Tiger Estate said something similar. She is a rogue
cultivator who has nothing to her name too. But that’s no problem. I’d
love her even if she were a mortal.”

Cheng Qian says coolly, “It’s rare for mortals to live to seventy
years.”

To put it harshly, mortals to cultivators aren’t that different from dogs

and cats to humans. Their companionship only last for a few
decades. One has to take care of the funeral just as the bond starts.
The relationship can’t last. It’s barely enough to cause grief.

Zhang Nanxi smiles. “That’s fine too. If necessary, I’ll destroy my

cultivation base, and live with her as a short-lived mortal couple. As
long as it doesn’t go against morals, I’m willing to do anything for
her.”
Cheng Qian: “…”

On one hand, he is stunned a little by Zhuang Nanxi’s rebellious

thought. On the other hand, he feels lucky that he wasn’t so hasty as
to blurt out the truth. Feeling some sympathy, Cheng Qian decides to
hide the fact that the unknown female cultivator is already dead. With
time, maybe Zhuang Nanxi will give up on her if he can’t find her?

As if he feels it himself that he has been saying too much, Zhuang

Nanxi embarrassedly says, “Senior, I won’t bother you with
something so frivolous like this. Huh?”

As they talk, there is a cold light that flashes on the horizon then
explodes like fireworks, which can be seen from everywhere.

“That’s the signal of Black Tortoise Hall to summon their disciples,”

Zhuang Nanxi says, his tone somewhat doubtful, “This is strange.
Senior Bian has been secluding himself from worldly affairs from a
long time. Why would he travel all the way to Nanjiang?”

Cheng Qian asks, “Black Tortoise Hall of the Four Sages? Aren’t
they in the Far North?”

“Indeed,” Zhuang Nanxi says, “Black Tortoise Hall and my home sect
White Tiger Estate face each other across the great ice field, so we
have always been friendly. Since they are already here, I should
meet and greet them. Senior Cheng, do you have to be somewhere
else? If not, why don’t you join me?”

That’s indeed what Cheng Qian wants. Feeling that his effort to
suffer this boy’s ramblings about silly romantic feelings has paid off,
he happily follows Zhuang Nanxi.

From a distance, it can be seen that black flags cover a corner of the
sky. Zhuang Nanxi’s face looks even more serious. “With this
formation, looks like the Supreme Elder of Black Tortoise Hall has
come himself. Alas, I heard that the whole world shook as the snake
ascended to a dragon in Nanjiang. Will it be a good or bad thing?”

Cheng Qian says nothing. He already senses an overwhelming aura

from the sky. Back then, when Lord Gu fell and the Eastern Sea
shook, the atmosphere was just like this. Since Cheng Qian left
Mingming Valley, this is the first powerful cultivator who makes
Cheng Qian feel under pressure, which brings back memories of the
trip to Azure Dragon Island.

From far away, Zhuang Nanxi already introduces himself. “I am a

disciple of White Tiger Estate, named Zhuang Nanxi. I’m here on a
mission at my Master’s order. Greetings to you, Seniors from Black
Tortoise Hall.”

As soon as the introduction is over, the pressure around noticeably

decreases, as if making way for him.

Walking under the sea of black flags behind Zhuang Nanxi, Cheng
Qian sees many cultivators clad in black robes. A faint frosty energy
emanates from them, creating a wintry zone in the South. Some of
the cultivators present recognise Zhuang Nanxi and make way for
him. Some even nod in greeting at him.

Looking up, Cheng Qian sees a flying horse carriage under the sea
of flags. The horses are all equipped in heavy-looking steel armours.
A middle-aged man stands in front of the carriage, his electric eyes
glancing at him. Zhuang Nanxi steps forward and greets ‘Supreme
Elder’. After a short small talk, the Supreme Leader looks at Cheng
Qian as if unable to help it. “This gentleman is…”

As the two powers meet each other, the ancient ice lake
encountering the endless snow field, Cheng Qian feels his fighting
instinct is provoked. He calms himself, keeps down Shuang Ren,
which is trembling anxiously in his hand, and raises his voice to
answer.

At that moment, someone shouts from the side. “Supreme Leader! I

recognise him. It’s him!”

“It’s me what?” Cheng Qian is startled. Before he can think further,

the one that shouted already draws his sword and charges at him.

Meanwhile, at thousands of miles away, Yan Zhengming has

followed the hearsay about the demonic dragon all the way to the
Central Plain. He has been turning over three coins in his hands, but
hasn’t found anything.

Bach then, when they were training on Fuyao Mountain, although

their Master occasionally played with the coins, he strongly opposed
to attempts to divine heavenly fortunes. In addition to not teaching
the arts, from time to time he displayed some well-measured
mockery.

Many children are troublesome in that, if their senior says, “This is

bad, don’t do it”, they’ll almost certainly want to try that thing.
However, if their senior tells them, “This is something so dumb only
monkeys do it”, they won’t want to touch it even after they become
adults.

Although more than a hundred years have passed, Yan Zhengming

still doesn’t know what to do with the coins. In this uncertain time,
although he can’t resist peeking at how the fortunes may turn, he still
feels that this desire to know the future is too silly.

Yan Zhengming makes a long sigh.

He doesn’t know if there is still a way back for Han Yuan, who has
turned into a demonic dragon. He doesn’t know if he can see the
gate to Fuyao Mountain within his lifetime either.

What he doesn’t know even more is how to face Cheng Qian.

Yan Zhengming points at the coin, which makes a ringing sound and
flies into the sky, disappearing from the world.

The current sect leader of Fuyao Sect thinks helplessly to himself,

“Master, what should I do?”

Unfortunately, it’s a waste of time to ask. When he was alive, his

Master had only one answer: “Well, you should go with the flow.”
That geezer dealt with everything the same way, and lived very
comfortably. Now that he has died, he is probably even more at
peace.

Cheng Qian… What’s so good about Cheng Qian?

Sect Leader Yan tries to interrogate his heart. That one has a sharp
tongue and a dark heart. Based on what Yan Zhengming knows
about him, with Cheng Qian’s ability to put up a calm face, he only
lets out a tenth of what is in his heart. People certainly can’t imagine
how nasty the inner world under that respectable facade is.

He is also extremely stubborn, and refuses to listen to reason.

Furthermore, his heart is made of iron and stone, which can’t be
moved no matter which tack one takes.

For someone who was in seclusion for fifty years in a place of

extreme cold, during which time he took in nothing but cold water,
what is beyond his ability? Whatever the case, Yan Zhengming has
to admit that as a sect leader, he can’t keep that asshole of a junior
brother in line.
Cheng Qian also has a bunch of insufferable bad habits. He is
incredibly untidy. He would sleep before taking a bath. He can touch
anything, no matter how disgusting it is. Furthermore, he never
washes his hands after that. And then he is strange, in that he sees
through what he shouldn’t know, but is forever clueless about what
he should, so he regularly pokes at one’s sensitive points.

At first, Yan Zhengming only wants to find an excuse, but he ends up

making himself so annoyed he might vomit blood.

To think about it, he loves the beautiful and hates the ugly, so he
uses ‘blind’ to sneer at other people publicly or privately all these
years. As it turns out, he has met his karmic retribution. Yan
Zhengming mournfully realises that it’s likely he is really blind too.

Suddenly, a voice raises behind him. “Most senior brother, the coin
has fallen down.”

As soon as “the coin” is said, Yan Zhengming is immediately startled,

as if he were guilty of something.

Li Yun quietly flies up from behind him like a ghost. With the same
ghostly aura, he stares at him without saying anything.

Feeling unsettled, Yan Zhengming glares at him. “What are you

doing?”

Like a thief, Li Yun scans his surrounding then asks, “Where is

Puddle?”

“Playing with fire in the back of the mountain,” Yan Zhengming says,
“What are you sneaking around for?”

Puddle was very happy to discover that, after being hit by lightning,
she has not only become more like a grown woman, but also gained
the ability to control the True Flame. It’s still new to her, so striking
the iron when it’s still hot, she has been working hard on her
cultivation.

Hearing that she is not here, Li Yun immediately sits down next to
Yan Zhengming.

In the beginning, as if not knowing where to start, he carefully takes

a roundabout approach. “Why did you finally agree to send your
treasure away?”

Someone who has shady thoughts will behave differently from an

innocent. This normal question is enough to make Yan Zhengming
pause despite himself. He instinctively wants to deny it with “what
treasure”. However, before he can say it, he already feels that it is
too forced. After a moment of confusion, he realises that Li Yun
already has a plan with that question, so he annoyedly rubs his
forehead and asks directly, “What do you want to say?”

Li Yun sighs, “Senior brother...”

“No need to talk about that,” Yan Zhengming cuts in. After a moment
of silence, he says, “No need for you to ask. I know what to do about
it in my own heart. I’m more than a hundred years old already, I
know how I should behave.”

Li Yun is rarely so serious. “Yes, I know you can keep yourself in line,
but what is your plan?”

Yan Zhengming is at a loss.

Giving him a look, Li Yun shakes his head and says in a low voice. “It
isn’t easy to follow the path of sword cultivation. You’ve reached
‘forming the blade’ level, which is even more rare. Each step you
take is like walking on knifepoint. You already have a demon of the
heart, what are you going to do about that then?”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming is a little hurt, but he doesn’t show it.
He says casually as if there were nothing. “What’s the deal? The
mortals, who only live for a few decades, still change their partners
all the time. Obviously, being shallow is only natural. I’m no different
from them. That sentiment will fade in a couple of years.”

Li Yun sighs, “Senior brother, how can a demon of the heart be

formed from something that you can forget in a couple of years? You
think I’m like that dumb bird Puddle, being ignorant about
everything?”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

The two of them glare at each other in silence. After an

indeterminable while, Li Yun begins to probe. “You… really plan to
keep it a secret from Xiao-Qian? In my opinion, why don’t you…”

With a cracking sound, the coin in Yan Zhengming’s hand is broken.

His face suddenly becoming colder, he interrupts Li Yun. “Don’t talk
about this again.”

Li Yun says, “But…”

“No ‘but’,” Yan Zhengming’s eyes are terrifyingly chilly, which scares
Li Yun. “You must not tell anyone about this, especially Cheng Qian.”

Li Yun opens his mouth as if to say something. In the end, he

swallows it back and reluctantly nods.

Yan Zhengming demands. “Don’t just nod for show. Swear it!”

Li Yun says, “Oh, most senior brother…”

“Stop spouting nonsense!”

Seeing that it’s impossible to move him, Li Yun has no other choice
than to raise his hand and say, “I swear I’ll keep this to myself and
not let anyone else know. Otherwise…”

Yan Zhengming continues. “Otherwise you’ll be hit by lightning and

die painfully.”

Li Yun immediately stands up. “Are you mad?!”

Glancing at him, Yan Zhengming says casually, “Li Yun, I realise that
you’ve a bad habit: you think everyone in this world who is more
daring than you is mad.”

Li Yun glares at him and says helplessly, “If the heart demon lives on
for too long and your cultivation heart is damaged, what will you do?”

“If I die, you guys can pick another sect leader,” Yan Zhengming
makes a stretch. “It’d be a boon, since I don’t want to be in this
position for a while already. From what I heard, a primordial spirit can
be reborn. What do you think about being a fox yao in the next life? If
it comes to that, you guys must urge Puddle to work hard on her
cultivation and become a great yao, so that she can usurp the throne
to become the yao king and protect me in the future.”

His sect leader’s grand ambition makes Li Yun speechless. He is

unable to find a word for a while.

Not looking at him anymore, Yan Zhengming taps his finger and
sings crudely off-key. “Being born then dying, it’s a suffering to come,
and it’s a suffering to go. Whether one has a chipped pot or a golden
bell, in poverty or in wealth, everything passes by in haste. Whirlwind
rises in the east, heavy rain falls in the west, even if one becomes a
hero that transforms the world, it’s only a farce that suddenly
becomes real. It’s best to be a turtle that takes in the great rivers and
lakes in one gulp, then spits out the endless years…”

This is the song of the vagabonds that beg around Fuyao Estate.
Hearing it, Li Yun feels very sad and worried.

From time to time, Yan Zhengming wished to be like those

wanderers, because they worried about nothing in life. However,
recalling how they caught lice on their heads, he no longer had that
wish, feeling that he wasn’t born with the ability to call anywhere his
home. Still, he remembers their beggar songs.

As Yan Zhengming tries to make himself comfortable, his heart

constricts, as if his chest were hit with a hammer. The song on his
lips completely ceasing, his body springs up.

“What’s it this time?” Li Yun’s eyes widen.

Yan Zhengming’s face is like a demon’s. “The puppet charm I tied on

Xiao-Qian’s hair…”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 70

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for looking things over!

*******
Of course, Cheng Qian won’t just stand there and let himself be
stabbed. Before Shuang Ren is even unsheathed, the sword wind
that carries shards of ice has swept out and blocked the attack that
doesn’t listen to reason of the other side.

Confused and angry, he looks to see what kind of person can do

something like that.

However, when Cheng Qian can see clearly the attacker, the flame
of his anger is extinguished. That’s one of the two cultivators with
primordial spirits who accompanied the spoiled brat a while ago.

Then… who was that useless trash on that flying horse carriage,
really?

Zhuang Nanxi is still in the saluting pose. Encountering this sudden

development, he is at a loss, asking, “S- Supreme Elder, what’s
happening?”

That stocky cultivator is forced back by Cheng Qian and falls on the
ground. Dirt all over his body, he yells before he even gets up.
“Supreme Elder, it’s this one that murdered our young lord!”

Hearing that, the Supreme Elder squints his eyes and looks at
Cheng Qian like a buyer a horse, then says, “A month ago, the
young lord sneaked out when our Lord was in seclusion. He hasn’t
returned for too long, so we have been looking everywhere. Just a
few days ago, we received the news that the young lord appeared in
Nanjiang. But when this old man is here, I discover that all that is left
from the young lord’s guards is this useless one.”

That stocky cultivator is already a senior in age. His face darkens as

he is pointed at and called useless, but he dares not say anything.
Even if he is a cultivator with primordial spirit, he acts like a scared
chick in the presence of this Supreme Elder.

Not even sparing a glance at that cultivator, the Supreme Elder asks
Zhuang Nanxi in a chilly voice, “Disciple nephew, I haven’t consulted
you yet. Who is this person you take here to meet us?”

“Young lord? Can’t it be… Young Master Bian?” Hearing that,

Zhuang Nanxi frowns and glances at Cheng Qian. Although Cheng
Qian doesn’t act guilty or scared, Zhuang Nanxi can’t help feeling
worried.

The Lord of Black Tortoise Hall Bian Xu, who is one of the Four
Sages, lives in the Far North and has been secluded from society for
many years. Among the Four Sages, besides the eccentric Xu
Yingzhi, he is someone who stays away from trouble. All of his life,
he is humble and polite. No one has ever accused him of any
immoral act. He doesn’t do something as attention-catching like the
Lord of Azure Dragon Island, who acted like a teacher of the whole
world. Unfortunately, the merits of his whole life are all ruined at the
hand of his only son Bian Xiaohui.

If one says that children are like a debt, then the young lord of Black
Tortoise Hall Bian Xiaohui must be a debt with extraordinarily high
interests.
Bian Xiaohui’s mother was assassinated when she was pregnant,
nearly leading to a corpse of two lives. He was the child that was
born in the coffin, as he was taken out from his mother after her
death. The odds of his survival were low. It took ten years of watchful
care with all kinds of precious materials in the Black Tortoise Hall for
him to shakily join ordinary life. The Lord of the Hall spent
immeasurable effort for this child, so he loved him more than life
when he was born. Because of that, Bian Xiaohui got what he
wanted since birth, no matter how difficult it was.

Unfortunately, no one could give him cultivational power.

He was born with a weak body and a lack of ability. He couldn’t

digest most cultivational medicines, and he would scream at the
slightest difficulty while cultivating energy. In a hundred years, the
disciples of his generation could all concentrate the mind and ride
the sword. Everyone had some achievements, except him, who
achieved too little compared to the effort spent no matter which
technique he practiced. People would praise him in his presence, but
mock him behind his back, so his personality got increasingly
difficult.

This time around, it was unclear who fed him the nonsense, but Bian
Xiaohui decided that he made no progress in cultivation because the
cultivational methods of Black Tortoise Hall clashed with his
horoscope. Carrying resentment towards his birthplace, he took a
good-for-nothing entourage, then left home and travelled thousands
of miles to Nanjiang, with the intention of trying his luck with
Vermillion Bird Tower.

In Bian Xiaohui’s perfect calculation, that Vermillion Bird Tower only

opened to some “fateful person” was only some kind of farce. In this
time and age, wouldn’t the worthiness to enter the tower be just a
contest of who had the bigger fist?

When push came to shove, he would only need to have those who
dared to be more fateful than him. Sooner or later it would be his
turn.

There were many cultivators who could ride swords around Bian
Xiaohui, in addition to two cultivators with primordial spirits. Logically,
it shouldn’t have been a problem to suppress a group of rootless
rogue cultivators. Unfortunately, the Heavens didn’t listen to human
wish. As the unlucky child who would choke on even water, he
couldn’t enter the tower. Fate even caused him to die suddenly away
from home.

Zhuang Nanxi of course has heard a lot about how horrible Bian
Xiaohui was. Recalling the incomparably brutal sword energy Cheng
Qian used to destroy the restriction spells in the hidden prison of the
demonic city, he sighs as he senses that the accusation is likely the
truth.

With how unreasonable Bian Xiaohui was, he really could anger this
senior who obviously doesn’t have much patience. It would be no
surprise if he got stabbed.

Torn between a senior from an ally sect that he can’t afford to

displease and the person who saved his life, Zhuang Nanxi is in a
difficult situation. He has no other choice but to smile weakly. “Maybe
it’s just a misunderstanding? Senior Cheng here took on the
demonic city all by himself, and eliminated the Chief of Merriment
Sect. He has just saved our lives, so how can he be someone who
kills indiscriminately?”
The Supreme Elder pays no attention to him. His sleeves flutter, as
he lands at a short distance in front of Cheng Qian in a blink of an
eye. Staring fixedly at Cheng Qian, he asks, “Do you admit it?”

This tone is obviously that of an interrogation. Fearing that Cheng

Qian loses his temper, Zhuang Nanxi hastens to calm them in a
respectful tone. “Please take your time to talk things over with each
other.”

Cheng Qian falls silent for a moment. That rotten trash named Bian
was indeed cut apart by his most senior brother. However, his most
senior brother can’t be considered the perpetrator, as Bian Xiaohui
had been dead when the demon of the heart possessed him. Still,
the one that brought the heart demon to him was Cheng Qian’s
troublesome Fourth Brother. No matter how one looks at this, Fuyao
Sect can’t get out of this incident.

Alas, who could expect that such a tiger like Bian Xu would sire that
lame dog?

The Lord of Black Tortoise Hall will no doubt want revenge for his
dead child, while they still need to ask him for the password to open
the “Earth” lock. Just thinking about this makes Cheng Qian’s heart
heavy.

It seems that there is a curse in the mountain seal left behind by their
Master. Whenever they have the slightest hope, they would be
pushed back into the abyss.

Even if Cheng Qian has an extraordinary determination, he can’t

help but feel doubt. Can it be, that the lifeline of Fuyao Sect has
really come to an end? Can it be that no matter what they try, it
would be useless?
The stocky cultivator yells from the other side, “Only his group
entered Vermillion Bird Tower. Our young lord fell in Vermillion Bird
Tower. Who else besides them did it?”

Cheng Qian coldly glances at them. Both of them have primordial

spirits, but the stocky geezer feels like a frog that is watched by a
snake. He can’t help shaking a little.

Cheng Qian doesn’t admit or deny the charge. He just says slowly,
“This daoyu is a cultivator who has formed his primordial spirit, but
he couldn’t charge into Vermillion Bird Tower. For the young lord of
your esteemed sect…”

Cheng Qian makes an artful stop. Although his tone is courteous,

there is a hint of mockery in his eyes that doesn’t fit with that. “How
could someone with low cultivation like that get in before the
Vermilion Bird Tower was opened?”

Hearing that, the stocky cultivator is at a loss.

Cheng Qian continues, “Furthermore, the young lord of your

esteemed sect was accompanied by thirty or forty people. May I ask,
how he slipped out of your sight?”

Hearing that, the Supreme Elder turns to the stocky cultivator and
asks annoyedly, “What really happened?”

The stocky cultivator chokes on his words. His palms sweat as he

realises that it is indeed difficult for him to deny his share of the
blame.

Seeing that he has shut up, Cheng Qian finally says, “On the way to
Nanjiang, we indeed came to altercation with the young lord of your
esteemed sect over a trivial matter. It was just an unfortunate conflict
on the road, and neither side pushed it to the extreme. We just
clashed then parted. Daoyu, with the Heaven and Earth as witness,
please say if it was really like that?”

The stocky cultivator says, “About this…”

The path of cultivation is based on the karmic cause and effect

amidst Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang, so cultivators take oaths
seriously. Even if they are shameless and unafraid of anything, they
would always pause despite themselves before saying anything
under the “witness of Heaven and Earth”.

Looking in from the outside, Zhuang Nanxi can’t help watching

Cheng Qian closely with some surprise. Before, he thought that this
person had such high cultivation at a young age and gave off an
apathetic attitude, so he wouldn’t understand how society worked.
Unexpectedly, Cheng Qian can explain himself eloquently without
losing his temper, even if he is being aggressively interrogated.

At this point, Cheng Qian reveals a hint of arrogance. “I let him go

after that encounter, so why should I have wasted my time and killed
him in Vermillion Bird Tower? Who knew which grand place he came
from? Why would I need to sneak around to kill such a negligible
beginner like him?”

Although these words seem reasonable enough to the Supreme

Elder, his face still darkens, because he can’t stand another person
boasting about cultivation in his presence.

Cheng Qian says, “I indeed saw the young lord of your esteemed
sect in Vermillion Bird Tower. However, at that point, he had already
become a puppet of the heart demon and was no longer alive.
Supreme Elder, if you have the time, please ask your sect’s
members why they were completely unaware that their young lord
was possessed by the demon of the heart?”
As soon as Cheng Qian says this, the stocky cultivator realises that
his share of blame has become even bigger. His mind racing, he
pushes off his responsibility without bothering to pick his words. “V-
Vermillion Bird Tower existed for more than a hundred years. Why
did it collapse and the land snake become a dragon just after your
group got in there? Maybe you guys have some relations with that
demonic cultivator?”

This is indeed bullshit.

Even Zhuang Nanxi can’t stand it. He steps forward and says,
“Supreme Elder, I can guarantee that, given his character, this
Senior Cheng doesn’t have anything to do with those demonic
cultivators. Chaos is reigning in Nanjiang, as the demonic cultivators
pour out to wreak havoc on the world. Our urgent duty now is to
band together and deal with the common enemy. Is there any reason
for us to fight among each other? What happened to Young Master
Bian was indeed tragic. Since the misunderstanding has been
cleared, why don’t we work together to fight against the demonic
dragon, so that the blood debt will be paid?”

This young man from White Tiger Estate must be quite well-read. He
has a way with words that can move people’s hearts.

The conflict seems about to be resolved with such a few lines like
that.

Hearing that, the face of the Supreme Elder softens. Glancing at

Cheng Qian, he says coldly, “Then my sect’s members failed their
duties then.”

The Supreme Elder is more than a thousand years old. He is one of

the most powerful cultivators in the mortal world. Because he doesn’t
have the patience to deal with mundane matters, he accepts the
Elder position at the Black Tortoise Hall. Even the Four Sages have
to have some regard for him. This geezer is used to having his own
way in everything, so to him, he is only second after the Heaven.
Why should he pay any mind to a junior that is a little more than a
hundred years old like Cheng Qian?

After Cheng Qian’s account and Zhuang Nanxi’s mediation, the

Supreme Elder has basically come to accept this explanation.
However, something still bothers him. The reason is no other than
that right from the beginning, Cheng Qian doesn’t try to win his
favour. All these years, everyone pays him the utmost respect to the
point of not daring to breathe wrongly around him. This young man is
just a young cultivator with a primordial spirit barely a hundred years
old. How powerful can he be? How dares he disregard Black
Tortoise based on his cultivation?

To the Supreme Elder, Bian Xiaohui is of course just like a mongrel

dog kept in the house. However, even if that pet relied on its owner’s
position to cause trouble, he shouldn’t have been kicked by outsiders
at whims.

Although Cheng Qian isn’t the perpetrator, he did give Bian Xiaohui a
lesson.

The Supreme Elder says, “Well, you don’t deserve to die for your
wrongdoing. I’ll give you a light punishment, so that you’ll know your
place!”

Before these generous words are even finished, Cheng Qian feels a
wave of powerful spiritual energy press on him. The control of the
force is very skillful. It will probably not kill him, but it definitely will
force him to kneel down while vomiting blood.
Cheng Qian feels that he has been as respectful as etiquette
demands. He didn’t expect that there could be such a geezer that
abused his senior position and acted completely unreasonable like
that.

Seeing that, he refuses to avoid the attack and bears the full force of
it.

The spiritual powers of two sides clash. Although they don’t use their
full strength, the surrounding is still greatly disturbed.

Zhuang Nanxi knows all too well how unreasonable and difficult the
Supreme Elder is. If Cheng Qian really bore this hit and got a not
light but not heavy injury, this case could be closed. However, he
doesn’t listen to reason.

Zhuang Nanxi immediately cringes inside, seeing as everything has

gone beyond help.

Just as he expects, the counterattack really provokes the Supreme

Elder. His anger turning into a smile, he says, “Good for you, brat.
Let’s see how long can you act out!”

Taking a deep breath, he stops holding back and uses his full
strength, so that Cheng Qian knows his place.

Zhuang Nanxi fearfully calls out. “Senior!”

All of his life, Cheng Qian knows when to withdraw, but he doesn’t
know “being forced to withdraw”. With a buzz, Shuang Ren spins
and flies up. The spiritual energy of two sides clash up front with
each other again.

This time, as full force is used, the cultivators around, including

Zhuang Nanxi, are all in trouble.
The ground shakes and splits. The soft mud in the resulting hole is
immediately covered in ice. The verdant grass becomes like jade
infused with frost.

The heat that doesn’t go away even in autumn of Nanjiang abruptly

disappears, as if an ice field from the Far North were relocated here.

Fortunately, Zhuang Nanxi is smart and can guess that things will go
wrong, so he has mobilised his spiritual energy already.

Even so, pain still surges in his chest, as he can’t even raise his
head as the cold wind rages, like a natural disaster was happening.

Both the Supreme Elder and Cheng Qian have to fall back to a good
distance. Cheng Qian’s face seems whiter than the frost on the
ground. The Supreme Elder seems to be in even more trouble. He
suddenly bends forward, and using his sleeve to hide his face, he
coughs out blood. The hair on his temples seems to be covered in a
layer of fog, showing that his injury isn’t light!

A deathly silence falls over the site, as everyone is stunned.

Before, Zhuang Nanxi thought that Cheng Qian had formed his
primordial spirit not for long. Even his sword moves were powerful,
Zhuang Nanxi only guessed that he was a sword cultivator.
Unexpectedly, Cheng Qian could not only match the Supreme
Elder’s power but also came out of it looking better!

How powerful must he be?

However, Cheng Qian’s real power is much lower than Zhuang

Nanxi’s imagination. This time, he is really just winging it.

Being provoked into matching his spiritual power with the other side,
Cheng Qian knew that he made a big mistake as soon as he made
contact. For a first-rate cultivator like the Supreme Elder to fight with
him, it was really a senior bullying a junior. Cheng Qian couldn’t
fathom how vast that geezer’s spiritual power was. Just as he
expected to either die to sustaining a serious energy, an invisible
power from behind him bore a large part of the Supreme Elder’s
force.

Cheng Qian is startled at first, but then his head feels suddenly
lighter, as his long hair becomes unbound. Sensing that something is
going on, Cheng Qian catches the hair ribbon made from white silk
that has been torn into two. As he expects, he can feel the remaining
trace of a fading puppet charm.

As it turns out, this ribbon is what bore half of the attack for him and
saved his life.

Thanking his luck, Cheng Qian caresses the torn hair ribbon with his
fingertip. He immediately knows without thinking who tied this thing
on him. His heart softened, he thinks, “Noble Consort Yan is so
fussy.”

However, right after that, he frowns and thinks, “Not good. The spell
on this has just been broken. He will definitely sense it. Did I just
make him worried again?”

As soon as he thinks that, Cheng Qian becomes impatient. His mind

races to find a way to escape this situation.

“Supreme Elder!” Some cultivators of Black Tortoise Hall who can

read the situation hastily run forward. Fighting each other for their
superior’s favour, they try to help him stand up. Unfortunately, their
effort for flattery is ill-timed.

The Supreme Elder angrily yells, “Scram!”

Disregarding if the targets are friends or enemies, he waves his arm
forcefully and sweeps the subordinates away.

The Supreme Elder hasn’t met his match for a long time, so he
refuses to believe that this brat would have stronger cultivation than
he. He nearly goes into a qi deviation as anger consumes his heart.
To him, his talent is already exceedingly rare in this world. On top of
that, he has been diligently cultivating day in and day out without rest
for the last thousand years. How can a nameless cultivator injure
him?

That’s impossible!

Unless this one has mastered some heretic techniques!

The Supreme Elder growls, “Demon, wherever you’re from, you think
that you can do whatever you want by hiding the bloody energy on
your body?”

Seeing that the mood has changed, the stocky cultivator, who has
been hiding in a distance, rushes to fan the flame. “I told you right
away that he was suspicious, Supreme Elder. That demonic dragon
of Nanjiang must have some relations with him!”

Cheng Qian finally understands what “If you want to find someone
guilty, there is no lack of reason” means.

He isn’t someone with good temper who can patiently talk things out.
Before, he tried not to get on the bad side of Black Tortoise Hall for
the sake of his sect. At this point, his anger, which has been
suppressed with difficulty, erupts.

Cheng Qian smiles coldly. “You’re really in sync. May I ask if the
tortoise1 that is your esteemed sect can still tell if you are black or
white?!”
The Supreme Elder shouts, “Create the formation! Arrest this villain!
Let’s see if he can still mouth off on the Immortal Binding Platform!”

The people around reply all at once. “Yes”.

In a blink of an eye, the black-clad disciples of Black Tortoise Hall

have formed a tight circle around the spot. There are forty nine
people in total, who all have formed their primordial spirits or close to
that. Their spiritual energy weaves together and form an all
encompassing net.

“This Great Celestial Divination Formation” is the extraordinary

treasure of Black Tortoise Hall. In the whole world, who else besides
the Black Tortoise Hall can gather nearly fifty high-level cultivators to
use as pieces in a formation like this?

The forty nine black-clad cultivators shout, “Forward!”

There is a loud buzz in Cheng Qian’s ears, as he feels like his chest
just got dealt a strong hit. Even if his body was forged from the Spirit
Collection Jade, his meridians seem about to break under the
pressure. Shuang Ren’s powerful sword will is dispersed by the
grand formation as the two sides class. This formation isn’t as brutal
as a heavenly tribulation, but unlike a heavenly tribulation, it doesn’t
leave any way out.

Injured by the force of the formation’s spiritual energy, Cheng Qian

uses everything to control Shuang Ren. The killer sword forms a
great whirlwind in the air and tears out a hole in the net of Great
Celestial Divination Formation. At the same time, Cheng Qian has
drawn blood from his own lips by biting them during his exertion.

However, the Great Celestial Divination Formation is extremely tight.

Within seconds, the spiritual energy flow has mended the hole. In a
complete turn-around, Shuang Ren is tightly bound, like a beast that
has been tied up and unable to escape.

Cheng Qian grasps the hilt of the sword and attacks wildly, but he
can’t find a route to get out. Even the vast sea can’t match the
endless heaven and earth, as the great net of the formation gets
increasingly narrower.

As if having a mind of its own, even if the puppet charm has been
broken, the white hair ribbon Cheng Qian puts in his sleeve still gives
off what remains of the spiritual energy, which gently enters his
meridians from his wrist. This mother-hen protectiveness is
unmistakably the style of a certain someone.

In that moment, Cheng Qian remembers how he sparred with his

most senior brother when they were young.

Shuang Ren leaves his hand once more and aims at the place
where it was stuck in the Celestial Divination Formation. A gust of
sword energy flies out from the tip of the sword and precisely slips
through the net and strikes at a nearby great tree. The branches
shake slightly. Then, life suddenly bursts out of them, and countless
glittering ice flowers bloom.

Dry wood meets spring.

The branch laden with ice flowers sweeps out. Two of the black-clad
cultivators in the formation are careless and thus pushed away. The
Great Celestial Divination Formation is torn a big hole from the
outside, and this time, it is impossible to mend the missing part.

The ‘Dry wood meets spring’ move in ‘Return to trueness’, the last
form of Fuyao Wooden Sword, turns out to be a way to survival.

It helped Cheng Qian break the formation, and he flies out.

However, at this point, Cheng Qian suddenly feels something cold on
his waist. He incredulously bends his head to look. There is a worm
the size of a fingernail crawling on his skin, which was bare because
his robe was torn during the contact with the Great Celestial
Divination Formation.

Not far away from him, the Supreme Elder makes a strange hand
spell and gives him a malicious smile.

Who could expect that a top-rank powerful cultivator, who holds the
position of Supreme Elder just under the Four Sages, could
disregard all honour and use such an underhanded trick?

The part where the worm stings Cheng Qian begins to numb in a
strange way. The sensation spreads throughout his body, making
him freeze and fall down together with Shuang Ren. A gust of
spiritual power from the Great Celestial Divination Formation hits his
back. Darkness falls over him.

*******

1. From what I know, 'tortoise/turtle' is an insult in Chinese.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 71

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom again for edits!

*******

In the Central Plain, there is a sacred mountain that meets the cloud.
The peak is covered with snow; the base is covered with plants and
flowers. In the middle of the mountain, the weather may change
within seconds, such that visitors may experience all seasons within
a few steps.

This mountain is called “Shizhou Mountain”, which is one province

more than the Nine Provinces1. Although it is in the mortal realm, it
isn’t altogether of this world.

There is also the saying that “Shizhou has eight out of ten parts of
prosperity in this world”.

Shizhou Mountain has spectacular scenery. It should be a divine

location that gives rise to great talents. Unfortunately, it is actually a
blackhole that sucks all spiritual energy from the nature around it,
without giving any back. No one can cultivate there. On the contrary,
their spiritual energy will be relentlessly robbed by the place.
Because of that reason, no one claimed Shizhou Mountain for a long
time. Then, some powerful cultivators collaborated with each other,
and created an “Immortal Binding Platform” on the top of the
mountain. Fortified by countless wards, the structure is used to
imprison the most terrible villains.
On the Immortal Binding Platform, there are thirty six rounds of
Qiankun Dragon Binding Locks. Even the Lord of Demons wouldn’t
be able to escape if he were chained in there.

From the day the place was built, countless powerful demonic
cultivators have been executed here. As a result, the area is
shrouded by a bloody miasma that never fades away, as if the souls
whose crimes couldn’t be cleared with even death or who died a
wrongful death still wandered around and listlessly watched the
world turn from a place beyond life and death.

Cheng Qian regains his consciousness after an indeterminable time.

His back hurt like it were pierced by needles, he is close to being
unable to get up.

With his current level of cultivation, he hasn’t felt the pains of the
flesh for a long time. Cheng Qian takes a deep breath and tries to
struggle slightly. He realises that his limbs aren’t chained. He can
even walk a little within the Dragon Binding Locks. The problem is
his spiritual energy is all sealed off, making his body heavy like that
of a mortal’s.

Obviously, Shuang Ren has been taken away. As far as Cheng Qian
can tell, he has neither a weapon nor strength.

Nevertheless, he isn’t afraid. He stays quietly in one place to calm

himself, then looks around to assess his situation. From what he can
see, this place is a huge and empty hall, the doors of which are all
shut. With the faint light from the thirty six Dragon Binding Locks,
one can see the murals depicting scenes of demons being
eliminated. The atmosphere is dark and chilly, making this place just
like the Immortal Binding Platform in the legends.
The numbness caused by the hidden attack from the little worm still
hasn’t dissipated. As Cheng Qian bends his head, he can see a
bloodstain on his chest. He fixes his clothes, while musing that he
hasn’t been so messy for a long time.

Cheng Qian is well aware that, had it not been for the puppet charm
his most senior brother tied on him, he wouldn’t have been a match
for that geezer. However, for someone at the post of Supreme Elder
of Black Tortoise Hall to disregard all honour and use such a dirty
trick on a junior after a random loss, on top of not daring to fight one
on one again, it is both sad and laughable to Cheng Qian.

Some people have been staying on great heights for too long, such
that they confine themselves to a corner and become unable to
accept the slightest decline. Those people likely have a heart full of
demons from such anxiety.

There is only one thing Cheng Qian doesn’t understand, which is

why that geezer took the trouble to drag him to this so-called
‘Immortal Binding Platform’. Wouldn’t it be cleaner to just kill him?

He can’t find the answer despite thinking hard about it, so he puts it
aside.

In any case, he isn’t completely innocent.

Cheng Qian isn’t afraid of being locked up here. He doesn’t care if

they want to kill or torture him. His only worry is for his most senior
brother. What Li Yun told him that day under the True Dragon Flag,
he has understood and remembered. It’s already dangerous for a
sword cultivator to have a demon of the heart. He dares not imagine
how his most senior brother will turn out after the puppet charm is
broken and he can’t be found.
Thus, Cheng Qian puts aside all irrelevant thoughts. Sitting down
with utmost concentration, he tries to mobilise his spiritual energy to
attack the binding spell on his body, no matter how many times he
fails.

Just as he is about to risk everything and charge at the Qiankun

Dragon Binding Lock, someone speaks behind him, “Look, young
man, don’t waste your strength. If I were you, I’d lie down and take a
nap.”

Cheng Qian turns with some difficulty. In front of his eyes, there is a
person standing at a short distance from him. It’s unclear how that
geezer got in, and now he is walking around the Dragon Binding
Lock with a bored attitude. The geezer has a body that is like a dried
up twig. He isn’t tall, his back is even bent a little, giving him a lowly
appearance. On his face, the facial hair can’t be distinguished from
dirt. Nevertheless, his eyes are very clear, like a crane amidst the
chickens.

Although Cheng Qian isn’t very particular about hygiene, he still

winces at how messy this person is. It’s been a long while since he
met such a cultivator, who lets himself be so dirty.

On top of dressing in rags, this person keeps scratching his head,

which makes one feel itchy all over just looking at him. If a cultivator
has lice, would those lice have some cultivation too?

Standing like a huge monkey by the Dragon Binding Lock, that

person laughs as he looks up and down at Cheng Qian, then he
speaks like a madman. “You don’t want to sleep? Let’s talk then. Kid,
how many are left in your Fuyao Sect?”

Cheng Qian is stunned. This geezer looks like something is wrong in

his head, but he can enter a closely-guarded place like this at his
whims, then spells out Cheng Qian’s background. He isn’t that
simple to deal with.

Hesitating a little, he cautiously asks, “How may I address you,

Senior?”

“Meh, don’t call me Senior, that’s annoying. Aren’t you Fuyao Sect
members all wild monkeys on that mountain, who never bother with
seniority?” Waving his hand, the person replies. “No need to stand
on false ceremony with me. I’m Ji Qianli.”

Looking at how the geezer is squatting, Cheng Qian feels it’s really
unfair that he gets labelled as a monkey.

Furthermore, “Ji Qianli” doesn’t sound like a real name at all2.

The cultivator, who introduces himself as Ji Qianli, grins and reveals

very white teeth. “I heard you gave the old fool Yang Decheng such
a thrashing that he got angry from embarrassment? Good work,
kid!”

Cheng Qian is confused. “Who is Yang Decheng?”

Ji Qianli says, “He’s the big goon Bian Xu keeps. That old fool has
been insufferable in recent years. It’s indeed good that someone
gives him a lesson. Alas, he wasn’t like this in his youth. His
temperament gets worse in his old age, all because of the pressure
of ascension.”

This person appears to understand Black Tortoise Hall well from how
he talks. Therefore, Cheng Qian can’t help being on his guard. He
says apathetically, “To become so despicable just because of the
pressure of something so trivial like ascension, how could he start
out as a righteous person?”
Scratching his head, Ji Qianli awkwardly says, “You’re still young.
You won’t get it even if I explain to you.”

Assuming a cultivational position, Cheng Qian stubbornly uses his

restrained spiritual power to attack the binding spell on his body, as
he says leisurely, “A mortal that lives to my age will have great great
grandchildren already.”

Ji Qianli laughs. “In the present, you’ve an extraordinary talent, such

that you make great progress everyday. You haven’t gotten married
or accepted disciples. With such a life, you’ll still be a youngster
even if you live to a thousand years old. But one day, you see that
everyone in the world addresses you respectfully as ‘Senior’, high-
level cultivators regard you like their ancestor, as they find that they
can’t reach your level, but you feel that your ability can no longer
match your wish, and that ascension keeps drifting away from you.
Well, that’s what getting old is like.”

Surprised, Cheng Qian turns around and meets the eyes of the mad
geezer.

At that point, he realises that the eyes of that old madman are very
dark, just like the bottomless abyss at the back of Fuyao Mountain.

“We aren’t like the mortals,” Ji Qianli says, “The mortals know from
their birth that they will definitely die. In eight or nine decades,
whether they’re rich or poor, good or evil, their paths all have the
same end. Even if their hearts fly further, they’ll always have that
home.”

Cheng Qian can’t resist saying, “Can death too be considered a

home?”
Ji Qianli laughs and waves his arms, “You brat. You tell me then, if
death can’t be considered a home in this life, then what is? However,
for us, we don’t even have this home. What is the Great Way? It’s
like a radish hanging in front of a donkey. The more powerful you
become, the further you get in your cultivation, the more you realise
how far away you are from this radish. After bending nature to your
will and being revered as deities for your whole life, you’ll end up a
handful of dust just like the mortals. Well, isn’t that thousand-year
pursuit just a joke?”

As Ji Qianli says this, the smile on his face cools a little. He sighs.
“Yang Decheng, Bai Ji, Tang Yao, they are all the same. When I first
met them, they were full of youthful enthusiasm and dedication to
righteousness, just like how you are now.”

What kind of people Bai Ji and Tang Yao were?

Hearing that, Cheng Qian’s face darkens. He asks with a somewhat

forced manner. “Are you praising me?”

Ji Qianli shakes his head and says in a low voice, “One hundred
years ago, Tang Yao and Bai Ji colluded with each other to force Gu
Yanxue to death. Less than five years after that, Bai Ji died because
his lifespan ran out. Even if he was the Lord of the Western Palace,
at death, he couldn’t even speak, as his body deteriorated and gave
off a terrible odour. Most cultivators kept away from dirty things, so
no one wanted to get close to him. About Tang Yao…”

“The relations on Mulan Mountain are traditionally cool, as the

people are only keen on powerplay. Thirty years ago, there was a
coup at night on Mulan Mountain, then Tang Yao got imprisoned by
his junior brother at the back of the mountain, under the excuse that
he went into seclusion. No one has heard from him since then, so he
is likely no longer of this world.”
“In just a hundred years,” Ji Qianli stretches his arms and sighs,
“They once had such glory, but not a trace of that remains.”

Cheng Qian has never had any excess of sympathy. Hearing that, he
isn’t moved at all. On the contrary, he says coldly, “The punishment
fits the crime. They deserve to die.”

“The punishment fits the crime,” Ji Qianli repeats, then shakes his
head. “Youngsters like you all think highly of yourselves, but to reach
such heights, who wouldn’t need an extraordinarily firm heart? The
problem is… Ah well, forget it.”

Having said that, the strange geezer suddenly jumps from the
ground and says to Cheng Qian, “Someone is coming, so I must go.
No need to worry. You’re already here at this Immortal Binding
Platform, so someone will definitely get you out.”

Who?

Cheng Qian’s first thought is his senior brothers. Or maybe a passer-

by like Zhuang Nanxi will say something in defense of him. Besides
them, who else wants to rescue him?

Before Cheng Qian says anything, Ji Qianli suddenly dons a different

expression and says in a low voice, “I don’t know if that’s your
intention or your bad luck, but you show too much of your talent.
Even if ‘that person’ helps you, it isn’t necessary out of altruism.
Remember, young man, if you want to have a long life, you need to
have some tricks, but you must not have too many tricks either. This
world currently can’t bear someone who has too much ability. Watch
the examples of the likes of Tong Ru and Gu Yanxue. If you don’t
want to end up like them, you should get some wisdom.”

Cheng Qian hastily says, “Please wait… Senior!”

Ji Qianli completely ignores him and disappears in a blink of an eye.

This person acts like he is mad, but his words carry some intention.
Cheng Qian slowly frowns. What does “the examples of the likes of
Tong Ru and Gu Yanxue” mean?

Can it be that there is some link between his disciple grandfather’s

fall into the demonic path and the death of Lord Gu?

Before he can come up with a cause, the great doors from all sides
of the great hall open with a loud clang all at once. The sunlight
floods in, making Cheng Qian unable to open his eyes. A group of
people he knows and strangers walk in with great pomp and
circumstance.

The person who leads the party of Black Tortoise Hall isn’t the
Supreme Elder named Yang Decheng, but a cultivator who has the
appearance of a middle-aged man. He has a square face, thick
eyebrows, and large eyes. Cheng Qian can have a vague guess that
this person is likely the Lord of Black Tortoise Hall Bian Xu.

From the other side, Zhuang Nanxi, together with a middle-aged

man with a serious face, also walks in. The two groups, one in white
and one in black, show that they are on equal grounds. In this side,
Cheng Qian can recognise some faces as he glances at them. They
are all disciples of White Tiger Estate that he rescued from the
demonic city of Zhaoyang.

From a distance, Zhuang Nanxi meets Cheng Qian’s eyes, as if to

reassure him.

Besides these two parties, there are quite a few other unaffiliated
cultivators who come to join in the fun. Even Tang Zhen who should
have already travelled a good distance is also present.
In front of so many people, Cheng Qian sits properly on the Immortal
Binding Platform. He suddenly feels weirdly flattered. He recalls that
time on Azure Dragon Island, when he was just a little rogue
cultivator who hadn’t reached ‘concentrate the mind’ level. Back
then, he only knew to fight with physical strength and gawked at the
powerful cultivators battling with each other using advanced
techniques. He didn’t even have the position to talk to them, so he
could only hide all the time like an egg from an overturned nest.

Only a hundred years have passed. What has he achieved that he

gets to experience the treatment given to Lord Gu?

Yang Decheng seems to want to speak, but the square-faced

cultivator next to him raises his hand and stops him.

That person steps forward and says, “I am Bian Xu, Lord of Black
Tortoise Hall. Daoyu, my subordinate Elder Yang says that you used
a special technique to hide your cultivation, that your true self is a
demonic cultivator, and that you murdered my child. I should vow not
to stand under the same sky with my child’s murderer, but young
Zhuang Nanxi of White Tiger Estate tries his best to defend you.
Even if the pain of losing my child is great, I don’t want to harm an
innocent, so I have you taken here to this Immortal Binding Platform.
In the witness of various dignitaries, I wish to ask you one thing.
What is really the relation between you and the demonic dragon of
Nanjiang? Did my child die under your hand?”

As one of the Four Sages, Bian Xu is indeed more proper than his
subordinate the Elder. Even if his eyes are red from the pain of
losing his son, he still maintains etiquette.

Cheng Qian gives Yang Decheng a meaningful glance and replies,

“I’ve said everything there is to say. On the other hand, this Elder of
your esteemed sect is a really funny guy. He seems to think that
anyone with cultivation higher than him must be one of the demonic
path. Lord Bian, it makes me really curious. Between you and this
Elder here, who is more powerful?”

Yang Decheng grits his teeth. “My lord, please don’t listen to him.
This little villain has a sharp tongue.”

Because a junior like Cheng Qian dared to beat him in the presence
of everyone, what Yang Decheng really wants is to kill him on the
spot, then pushes the blame for the troublemaker Bian Xiaohui’s
death on him, so that everything is neatly concluded.

However, unexpectedly, Zhuang Nanxi has been spoiling everything.

When the battle was raging on, that brat sent a signal to summon the
disciples of the White Tiger Estate, who were nearby and could
quickly gather there. An Elder of the White Tiger Estate also came
after receiving the news.

If Cheng Qian is just a “nobody rogue cultivator”, Yang Decheng of

course can decide whatever he likes to him. However, White Tiger
Estate is an important ally of his sect, so he cannot easily turn
against them. The situation gets even more complicated, as the
disciples of White Tiger Estate that were rescued by Cheng Qian do
their best to play peacemaker. That is why the case is dragged all
the way to the Immortal Binding Platform, and the cultivators with
some reputation are all invited here.

With a calm face, Bian Xu asks again, “Daoyu, you have denied that
you follow the demonic path. Then, may I ask what is your sect?”

Fuyao Sect already has enough trouble. Naturally, Cheng Qian

cannot get his home sect involved, so he replies, “A nobody rogue
cultivator.”
Yang Decheng angrily says, “Bullshit!”

Bian Xu frowns. “Daoyu, I am talking properly to you. Why are you

so uncooperative? Where did you learn to absorb the qi then? Can it
be that you have that ability from birth?”

His hands on his knees, Cheng Qian says with a faint smile, “The
Lecture Hall of Azure Dragon Island. If you want to continue asking, I
can tell you how Bai Ji and Tang Yao murdered the Lord Gu just
because of a “perhaps”. I was there when it happened. Lord Bian, so
many things have changed, but that old dog you keep has the exact
same impressive aura as those people back then.”

As soon as he says that, there is a loud exclamation from the crowd.

There are all kinds of narratives about that incident on Azure Dragon
Island, but no one is sure whether Gu Yanxue deserved his death as
the punishment for his crime or not. However, he was on the same
level as Bian Xu as they are both in the Four Sages. Cheng Qian
touches a sensitive spot when he says this.

Someone angrily shouts from the rank of Black Tortoise Hall,

“Insolent!”

Zhuang Nanxi hastily says, “Indeed there are powerful people in the
wider society. Even if this senior came from Azure Dragon Island, is
there even decisive information about how the Lord of the Island
went into qi deviation? Furthermore, with this senior’s age, he might
not even be able to absorb the qi when Lord Gu fell. Elder Yang,
don’t you find that we are jumping to conclusions?”

Yang Decheng smiles coldly, “Nephew, it was just a small favour, but
you let yourself be fooled by him? Maybe it was his plan that you
people got trapped in Zhaoyang!”
Tang Zhen, who is watching from the outside, lazily raises his voice.
“He broke into Zhaoyang City to find something for me. The rescue
was just a coincidence. There was no scheme or conspiracy. Some
people should rein in their imagination.”

Yang Decheng turns sharply and glares at Tang Zhen. “Who on earth
are you?”

Tang Zhen observes him with an expressionless face, then raises his
voice, “I’m just a nobody. In any case, Elder Yang, I can see that
there is a dark shadow on your forehead, and there seem to be red
veins around your eyebrow. Looks like you have a demon of the
heart, which won’t be good for your cultivation. I think you should
stay away from trouble, and focus on taking care of yourself more.”

Yang Decheng says, “You…”

He has only said one syllable, but Tang Zhen already bends down
and coughs like a tuberculosis patient. Liu Lang, who has been
waiting beside him, hastily supports him and rubs his back. It’s like a
demonstration that this sickly cultivator will quickly be bullied to
death by Elder Yang, who abuses his power.

Bian Xu frowns and says, “Decheng, don’t squabble with a junior.”

Being forced to step back, Yang Decheng’s face is full of resentment.

He gives a signal to the disciples of Black Tortoise Hall behind him
with his eyes. Right away, a disciple that is keen to butter up the
seniors guesses what he wants and speaks up on his behalf. “My
lord, I know a method to tell if someone is a demonic cultivator or
not, no matter how well the bloody aura is hidden.”

Zhuang Nanxi and the Elder of the White Tiger Estate next to him
look at each other, as both of them have a bad feeling.
As they expect, the disciple continues, “Techniques as well as the
primordial spirit being expressed outside can be disguised, but we
only need to open his head and check where the primordial spirit
resides to know if he is a demonic cultivator or not.”

As soon as those words are spoken, the Elder of White Tiger Estate
shouts, “Absurd! You may as well demand his chest to be torn open
to check if his heart is red or black. Lord Bian, don’t you mind that
your sect’s disciple can speak so insolently?”

Bian Xu rubs his forehead.

Yang Decheng says sarcastically, “It’s only opening up his head, not
killing him. With so many fellow cultivators being present here, how
can anyone do some dirty trick? If he is really of the righteous path,
of course we of Black Tortoise Hall will compensate with cultivational
medicine, so that he can recover in just a short while!”

Even if Yang Decheng is petty and delusional, it is indeed not his

intention to smear Cheng Qian. He really believes that Cheng Qian
is a demonic cultivator, so he says, full of conviction, “Is there any
reason that he is unwilling to let us check?”

Zhuang Nanxi, “Lord Bian, such kind of measure has never been
done at this Immortal Binding Platform. I believe that Senior Cheng
absolutely has no relation with the demonic cultivators. Even if we
examine the inside of his head, we won’t find anything. Pardon me
for being so bold, but Black Tortoise Hall will be embarrassed if
people outside hear of that.”

The disciple of Black Tortoise Hall who gave that ridiculous

suggestion says, “Don’t worry, we of the Black Tortoise Hall are
honourable. If we are wrong, we’ll definitely apologise and
acknowledge our error to the world.”
The Elder of White Tiger Estate can’t hold it in anymore. “Lord
Bian…”

Yang Decheng interrupts, “If he dares not let us do that, it means he

has something to hide!”

Cheng Qian: “…”

Before the main parties have said anything, these two people are
already in a tense quarrel.

At that moment, a voice raises from outside the great hall of the
Immortal Binding Platform. “Something to hide? On the contrary, I
want to know who injured him!”

As soon as these words are spoken, the person charges in with his
sword in hand. Before he even appears, his oppressive sword will
already sweeps across the great hall.

Cheng Qian finally pales.

*******
1. "Shizhou" means 'ten provinces'
2. The Vietnamese translator notes that "Ji Qianli" is one character
away from and sounds like "a thousand miles"
 Liu Yao - Chapter 72

Last chapter of Book 3! Thank you as usual to MrMissMrsRandom for

editing!

*******
By Shizhou Mountain, Puddle transforms into a great bird and
carries Li Yun on her back. As she flies through the sky, onlookers
must think that they just see a faint ray of light that flashes by.

Like a shooting star sporting a long tail, the two of them are followed
by a bunch of demonic cultivators. The vermillion bird doesn’t fly in a
straight line. She makes abrupt turns and detours with cunning, and
thus keeps those demonic cultivators tailing them.

That day, when they received the news from Tang Zhen, Yan
Zhengming already left without a word before them. However, since
cultivators from everywhere gathered at the Immortal Binding
Platform, how can their most senior brother fight them all by himself?
Thus, Li Yun has to come up with a scheme. Taking advantage of the
event that many demonic cultivators follow the demonic dragon to
the North, and of the fact that Puddle can fly very fast, they poke at a
group of screaming demonic cultivators and lead them to Shizhou
Mountain, in order to create proper chaos.

Li Yun makes the calculation with his hand and directs Puddle.
“Forward seventeen zhang, in Kan direction1. You’re off the route.
Careful!”
Puddle can’t take it anymore. “Stop showing off that you’re well read.
What’s wrong with saying ‘front, back, left, right’?”

She can only tell the direction with front, back, left, and right. Even
north east south west makes her take some time to work out. Li
Yun’s habit of babbling “qian kun zhen kan” gives her a headache.

“Don’t talk so much. Go over there right away, quick!” Li Yun

complains, “Can’t you withdraw the fire on your body? I’m being
burned to death!”

Puddle doesn’t bother to squabble with him. She asks, worriedly,

“Second Brother, do you think our most senior brother can last until
we arrive?”

“Don’t joke like that. Why do you think he can keep calm when Xiao-
Qian is in trouble?” Li Yun sighs. “Everything will be alright if Xiao-
Qian is in one piece, but if something goes wrong…”

It’s unclear how much Puddle understands him, because she gets
angry at the idea. “What? Who dares to hurt my senior brother? I’ll
burn them to death!”

Li Yun: “…”

Among the yao, this bird can be considered to have some brains, but
among humans, she is too lacking. No matter how powerful she is,
her thinking is extremely simple. Li Yun has no reply to that. Thinking
that she won’t understand even if he explains it to her, he tiredly
says, “Concentrate on flying. It’ll be fun if we are sloppy and get
caught.”

He is filled with worry that Yan Zhengming lost his temper and
charged straight into the Immortal Binding Platform, heedless of
everything else.
Li Yun really understands his sect leader and senior brother well.

In the great hall of the Immortal Binding Platform, the sword will that
is full of killing intent sweeps through the powerful cultivators
present, and they instinctively mobilise their spiritual power to resist
it. Being provoked by the spiritual energy from all sides, the Dragon
Binding Lock glows. The sword energy from the outside and the
spiritual power from the inside clash with each other, causing the
great doors from all sides to be blown away with a loud crash.

“Who’s there?!”

With a frosty expression, Yan Zhengming makes emphatic steps

from the debris of the doors into the hall. He pays no heed to the
crowd present, no matter whether they’re powerful or not, as he
walks straight to the Immortal Binding Platform.

It’s as if the other people are of no consequence to him. He only

sees the person imprisoned by the Dragon Binding Locks.

The calmness of Cheng Qian quickly vanishes. At the moment, he

feels as if he was caught red-handed as soon as he commits a
crime. He can’t help but stiffen his back that is full of wounds. Then,
he instinctively glances at his clothes, which have been torn beyond
help, and pulls a piece of cloth to hide the nasty-looking bruise on his
waist.

Disregarding everyone else, Yan Zhengming walks to the Immortal

Binding Platform. He stares fixedly at the dried blood on Cheng Qian
and asks with a soft voice, “Who hurt you?”

He says it with a gentle voice and a normal expression, but a chill

runs through Cheng Qian’s spine. He anxiously looks at Yan
Zhengming, and realises that there is an unsettling shade of red in
those pitch-dark eyes. “Senior brother, you…”

Yan Zhengming exhales softly, “I’ve sworn to the Heavens that if

someone hurts you again, I’ll rip…”

Terrified, Cheng Qian dares not let his senior brother, who seems to
have gone mad, finish that line. He cuts in and carefully uses
soothing words. “I’m fine. It’s just a little misunderstanding. Can you
calm down? Where are the others?”

Yan Zhengming grinds his teeth, making his cheeks tense up. A
second later, he closes his eyes, and the deep red that has been
flashing from those eyes gradually fades.

Yan Zhengming sighs. As if exhausted, he says quietly, “Come here.

Let me have a look.”

Cheng Qian casually walks next to the Qiankun Dragon Binding

Locks. All of his movements are light and easy, as if all the injuries
on his body are just painted on him.

His hands behind his back, he glances at the surrounding cultivators

as he stands on the Immortal Binding Platform like someone who is
above them all. With an arrogant air that he hasn’t let appear on his
face for a long time, he raises an eyebrow and smiles. “It’s just a
small dispute that will be resolved in a few words. What do you come
here for?”

Yan Zhengming stares fixedly as that face, which has gone pale but
still pretends to be tough. Just as his rational side is winning, his
demon of the heart, which has been calm, begins to run wild in his
head, and he gets angry.
After giving Cheng Qian a warning glare of “it’ll be your turn later”,
Yan Zhengming turns and taps his new sword on the ground, as he
speaks. “If he owes anyone money, I’ll pay the debt for him. If he kills
any sect’s member, I’ll compensate with my life. If you are here to
demand something from him, come talk to me.”

Even if Yan Zhengming is a sword cultivator with a rarely seen

power, these foolishly arrogant words still stun everyone present.

After a long while, Zhuang Nanxi manages to regain his composure,

and breaks the silence. “S-senior, you are…”

Yan Zhengming says, “My family name is Yan. I’m the forty eighth
Sect Leader of Fuyao Sect.”

Cheng Qian didn’t expect him to just say everything so bluntly to the
crowd. He startledly cries. “Senior brother!”

Yan Zhenming just waves his hand without looking back. This day
has to come sooner or later. Can Fuyao Sect really hide until the end
of times?

Most cultivators present just look blankly at Yan Zhengming’s

introduction. However, Bian Xu, Yang Decheng, and the still
unnamed Elder from the White Tiger Estate are visibly surprised.

The Elder from the White Tiger Estate says, “Then your Master is…”

“My Master Han Muchun and my disciple grandfather Tong Ru…

seem to have a history with the Four Sages,” Yan Zhengming
pauses, then continues, “Our seniors are no longer of this world, so
the sect is in my incapable hands. I’m just a good for nothing that
can’t achieve much, despite having cultivated for more than a
hundred years. So, I’m too embarrassed to mention my home sect.”
Yan Zhengming lightly taps the sheath of his sword as he says this,
making a soft ringing sound. Self-mockery is on his face. The thing
is, he has no regard for anyone else even as he is mocking himself.
Without bothering to look up, he says, “But no matter how cowardly I
am, I can’t stand on the side and watch my junior brother be bullied. I
have no other choice but to come here and see what lesson you may
have for me.”

Yang Decheng says coldly, “If I remember correctly, doesn’t your

Fuyao Sect claim to destroy all demons you come across? Why
don’t you execute your own member first?”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming glances up, “Oh?”

He is born with the beautiful peach blossom eyes of a rich playboy.

Before he even speaks, his eyes already flirt like a pursuer of
pleasure. However, at the moment, his gaze is full of the sword will
at the ‘forming the blade’ level, which can turn a feather into a blade
and freeze water to ice. It is an indescribably poor fit for his person,
yet at the same time seems entirely natural.

The disciple of Black Tortoise Hall next to Yang Decheng, who

suggested opening Cheng Qian’s head, steps forward and tells
everything with some elaboration.

Yan Zhengming listens without showing any expression. He looks

down at the tip of his sword and suddenly laughs. “I see. Turns out
it’s this Elder Yang. Your sect’s young master was possessed by a
demon of the heart. His body was killed by me. My junior brother had
nothing to do with it. If you feel that I don’t have sufficient respect for
his body, I can go and bow to his symbolic grave. About…”

As soon as he says this, he has already moved close to Yang

Decheng. The sword formed from his spiritual power joins with the
sword in his hand, and paying no heed to his completely exposed
back, he wordlessly attacks Yang Decheng from above, the force of
which is like a falling mountain.

Yan Zhengming had already heard this geezer’s demands before he

entered the hall. After listening to the full story, he works out that
Cheng Qian’s hair ribbon was broken because of this geezer. His
wrath immediately erupts.

If he hadn’t given that puppet charm to Cheng Qian out of whims, if

the White Tiger Estate hadn’t intervened in time, would Cheng Qian
still be alive?

The feeling when he couldn’t bring vengeance on Zhou Hanzheng

with his own hand rises in his heart. With the new anger on top of the
old regret, even the Heavens couldn’t stop him from cutting up his
target into pieces.

The sword in Yan Zhengming’s hand seems to bear the entire power
of its owner. There is a loud buzz, and even the Supreme Elder of
the Black Tortoise Hall Yang Decheng cannot handle the ferocity of
the attack. He falls back with difficulty. Even Bian Xu, who is one of
the Four Sages, can’t help leaning to one side to avoid the tip of the
blade.

This is an attack that can shake the world.

On the other hand, Cheng Qian frowns. He can’t help himself and
steps forward, but is held back by the Dragon Binding Locks.

Cheng Qian knows too well what the people present are like. Even if
Yan Zhengming took the strength-giving cultivational medicine, he
wouldn’t have this kind of power. In these past days, what has this
senior brother of his, who looks carefree but in fact carries more in
his heart than anyone, done?

The great hall is thrown into chaos by his attack. Except for the area
surrounded by the Dragon Binding Locks, everywhere is wrecked.
The countless defense wards around the hall all collapse, as if they
were made from mere mud.

When the great cultivators of the previous generations created the

Immortal Binding Platform, they probably didn’t expect there would
be someone who dared to cause this much trouble here.

The Elder from White Tiger Estate hastily says, “Nephew, you
can’t…”

Yang Decheng can’t avoid it anymore. With a soft cry, he raises his
hands and signs a spell. Eighteen illusions emerge from behind his
back, each of which carries a kind of weapon. The shadows are all
either immensely powerful for agile, as they surround Yan
Zhengming from all sides.

Suddenly, the flare of the sword erupts, as the real sword and the
sword made from primordial spirit merge into one. The ferocity of the
sword flare is so great, that even demons and gods would flee from
it. The eighteen illusions run away, but they are all crushed into dust
before they can escape. Yang Decheng already has some fear in his
heart. With the rising panic, he is immediately under the backlash
from the illusions and blown away for a good distance. He lies
motionless, and no one can tell if he is dead or alive.

Yan Zhengming doesn’t let off his attack. Bian Xu is finally forced to
act. He signs a spell and throws out a jade plate, which becomes a
shield for Yang Decheng.
The sword energy hits a corner of the jade plate and causes a crack
on the plate. With an icy smile, Yan Zhengming glances at the Lord
of Black Tortoise Hall. Then the sword aura surrounding him
changes direction and charges at the thirty six Dragon Binding Locks
like a tidal wave.

“Stop!” This time, Bian Xu, the Elder of White Tiger Estate, and even
Cheng Qian cry out at the same time.

However, no one can stop the stubbornness of this cultivator of the

sword.

The sword formed from Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit and the
Dragon Binding Locks clash with each other. The sound of dragons
howling ring out from the Dragon Binding Locks, as what remains of
the great hall’s roof is all swept away. The cultivators present, who
dare to claim to be the most powerful in their regions, all run away
like rats.

The Dragon Binding Locks have been soaked in the elements

throughout countless years, in which they have absorbed the
spiritual energy from many powerful cultivators and drunk the blood
of innumerable demonic cultivators. Therefore, they have formed a
spirit of their own. The two clashing forces, one as immovable as a
mountain, one immensely powerful, meet each other without the
slightest concession.

Blood drops from the corners of Yan Zhengming’s mouth. The scarlet
shade in his eyes, which has already faded, appears again under the
provocation from the Dragon Binding Locks. Within seconds, the
second sword is formed and charges at the Dragon Binding Locks
again.
Perhaps the good-for-nothing little rich boy on Fuyao Mountain back
then was guided by the sword to the Tao because of this bone-deep
coldness. In certain situations, he’d disregard everything and
everyone, no matter if they’re gods or demons.

On one hand he searches for the key and passwords to open the
mountain seal. On the other hand, he relentlessly tries his best to
wrestle the awareness the previous generations of his sect left
behind in the sect leader seal.

He can be lazy or hates to be dirtied, but he has never been affected

by true fear to the point of stagnation in his progress.

The Dragon Binding Locks angrily howls, as the Immortal Binding

Platform shakes.

The Elder of White Tiger Estate turns to Bian Xu and yells so loudly
his voice is distorted, “He is a sword cultivator who has reached
‘divine realm’ level. Why would he care to kill your good-for-nothing
son? Why the hell don’t you open the Immortal Binding Platform?”

Bian Xu has to admit that the man isn’t wrong. However, at the
moment, he can’t open the Immortal Binding Platform even if he
really wants to. With his cultivation level, he can battle with Yan
Zhengming, but he will only ask for trouble if he comes in between
the ongoing raging fight.

At that moment, Cheng Qian suddenly kneels down on the Immortal

Binding Platform. “Senior brother, I beg you, please stop!”

As soon as Cheng Qian is down on his knees, Yan Zhengming’s

apathetic eyes suddenly flashes. The sword energy that has been
formed like a sun in the air pauses alongside him.

Cheng Qian says, “Don’t you want to live anymore?”

In the deafening silence, the raging sword energy slowly dissipates
and transforms into a soft breeze, then goes back to Yan
Zhengming’s sword.

After a moment of silence, Yan Zhengming says in a low voice,

“Open the Dragon Binding Locks.”

The cultivators present look at each other. The Elder of White Tiger
Estate makes the first step and says, “We have one of the keys.”

The thirty six Dragon Binding Locks are maintained by thirty six
cultivators. With the Elder as the example, the others immediately
follow. Even Bian Xu, after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly
summons a key and throws it to a disciple nearby.

As each Dragon Binding Lock is opened, the spiritual energy that

has been suppressed on Cheng Qian’s body circulates again in his
meridians, like water flooding in rivers that have been dried up for a
long time. The overflowing energy hurts him a little.

Bian Xu coughs and seems to want to say something. Suddenly, the

gust of dark energy flies up in the northern sky and quickly covers
half of the sunlight. The roof of the great hall has been destroyed, so
everyone inside can see what is going on clearly. They all turn their
head and realise that a dragon-shaped being is lurking among the
swirling black clouds.

Someone fearfully shouts. “The Nanjiang dragon!”

At that moment, a great bird surrounded by flame appears with a

loud screech. As the bird lands in what remains of the great hall, Li
Yun pants and jumps down from the bird’s back. Looking around, he
can’t grasp what has been going on and mumbles. “It can’t be…
What the heck is this?”
In the swirling black clouds that are like a great tide, Han Yuan’s
voice rings out like thunder. “It’s I who destroyed the Vermillion Bird
Tower. The great demon of the heart was also released by me.
Which vermin dares to steal my credit?”

As he speaks, the black energy surrounding Shizhou Mountain

howls, and a crowd of demonic cultivators appear down the
mountain.

As he finally finds his breath, Li Yun weakly smiles. “We encountered

these demons on our way. They chased the crap out of us.”

No one present pays attention to his self-deprecating joke.

Demonic energy surges relentlessly from all sides, as the Immortal

Binding Platform shakes. The demonic dragon laughs loudly. “It’s
time this world is changed. Let’s turn everything upside down.”

The demonic cultivators all enthusiastically meet his rallying call.

The giant claws of the demonic dragon scratch through the clouds as
if wanting to tear apart the sky. A downpour immediately breaks out.

With the howling wind and rain above and the demonic cultivators
wrecking everything below, chaos reigns on Shizhou Mountain.

Wiping off the rainwater on his face, Zhuang Nanxi strides forward
and raises his voice to address Yan Zhengming. “Senior, I’m only an
ignorant junior who has never heard of the great Fuyao Sect, but
didn’t someone just say Fuyao people were committed to destroying
evil. At the moment, the world is in a great unrest. Who can stay
unaffected in this situation?”

Maybe it’s an illusion of Cheng Qian, but he feels that Yan

Zhengming’s body sways a little.
Zhuang Nanxi says straightforwardly, “Seniors, please consider the
greater good and let go of the small disagreement between us!”

Cheng Qian tilts his head. His eyes seem to meet Han Yuan’s
through the layers of heavy rain and thick clouds. In that moment, as
he hears the cultivators around declare their commitment to defend
righteousness, a feeling rises in his heart.

There is no way back.

After a long time of hiding, Fuyao Sect re-appears to other people in

the world. They are also once more at the centre of the storm, while
their junior brother, who once only lazed about and caused trouble,
increasingly drifts away from them without a way back.

Villains and heretics appear every generation, while the teachings

from their ancestors demand them to eliminate all demons.

“Those who want to play heroes should all step aside,” Tang Zhen
suddenly splits the crowd and strides forward. “Don’t you see that he
can’t even stand any longer?”

Before he even finishes, Yan Zhengming suddenly collapses without

any warning.

Cheng Qian has no mind to have relevant thoughts. He clumsily

supports Yan Zhengming, but all he feels from his senior brother is
coldness. Yan Zhengming’s breathing is so soft, that it almost can’t
be felt.

Zhuang Nanxi is at a loss. At that moment, an unfamiliar cultivator

carefully steps forward and says, “Senior, please follow. There is a
place where you can rest on Shizhou Mountain.”
Tang Zhen says, “Sorry to bother you. Please lead the way. This
madman has been injured by the power of the Dragon Binding
Locks.”

Having said that, he signals with a glance to Cheng Qian, who is

panicking a little, to follow him.

Cheng Qian hastily picks up Yan Zhengming. Li Yun and Puddle

hurriedly follow him. No one among the cultivators present on the
mountain dares to stop them.

Cheng Qian quickly chases after Tang Zhen. “Tang-xiong, my senior

brother…”

“Stop asking me,” Tang Zhen says, his voice nearly a whisper, “At
that moment I saw White Tiger Estate summoned their disciples, so I
came to learn what was going out then sent news to your senior
brothers. Besides the location of Immortal Binding Platform, he also
asked me about a forbidden technique.”

Cheng Qian’s heart constricts. “What?”

“A technique to increase one’s cultivation to the limit for a short

while, at the cost of a later backlash that is three times as powerful.
Heavens, I thought your senior brother was a very reasonable
person,” Tang Zhen frowns. “If I had known he would be like that, no
way I would have taught it to him.”

Cheng Qian is stunned.

Completely shaken, he looks at Yan Zhengming’s exhausted face,

as an unnamed feeling rises within him.

What Zhuang Nanxi once said to him murmurs in his heart.

As long as it doesn’t go against morals, there is nothing I won’t do for
her.

********
1. Kan direction: Li Yun is using the Bagua terms. The Kan sign refers to
the North.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 73

Sorry to keep you waiting! Start of Book 4! Many thanks to

MrMissMrsRandom for the super efficient editing!

*******
It is said that that night, the giant sea snake kept in the great lake by
the gate of the Western Palace died belly up.

The great hall of the Immortal Binding Platform has collapsed. With
the Dragon Binding Locks removed, all that is left is an empty
platform. Under the pouring rain, the thick smell of blood is all over
the place as the water runs over the platform.

Out of nowhere, the demonic cultivators under Shizhou Mountain

cause a great commotion the whole night. They pick fights as they
like, and clash several times with the cultivators on the mountain. As
the battles rage on, the wild animals on the mountain all run away.
Countless villages around the mountain are also affected. However,
the cause of this problem isn’t bandits or rebels, so the imperial
forces are not only unable to deal with the situation, but they also
have to run away alongside the civilians.

It should be said that the imperial court reacts fairly quickly. Within
one day, the Celestial Divination Bureau sends their people to the
place. Unfortunately, the gesture only has minimal effect. The
cultivators from well-established sects are very proud, so they don’t
bother to listen to the imperial court’s orders. Those demonic
cultivators from Nanjiang are even more unpredictable. Relying on
their numbers, they go from place to place to raise trouble.

Under Shizhou Mountain, the realm undergoes a great disaster. The

bodies of people who starve spread for miles around. White bones
are strewn everywhere. The water sources are polluted with corpse
poison, and the plagues are spread widely. Countless mortal civilians
become homeless.

The cultivators from various sides fight with each other without a
care about their surroundings. The clash wrecks havoc on the
spiritual energy of nature and causes great disturbances to the
region. Sudden flood follows sudden forest fire. Snow falls when the
sun is still shining, yet in the snow there are feeble summer flowers
forced to bloom. They and the autumn crickets helplessly stare at
each other, completely at a loss about what is going on.

The madness lasts for four days, which finally leads to the Heaven’s
wrath. Divine lightning strikes at the Immortal Binding Platform and
splits it into two.

This seems to be a warning sign for the start of a chaotic war

between the divine and the demonic, as the old order collapses.

Bian Xu doesn’t linger. After he leaves the Immortal Binding

Platform, he immediately returns to Black Tortoise Hall, then
declares that he will go into seclusion. He doesn’t appear no matter
who calls on him.

The lord of White Tiger Estate is nowhere to be seen right from the
beginning. Whether it’s a secret investigation of Nanjiang or dealing
with the incident on the Immortal Binding Platform, it’s just a group of
disciples and an elder who easily loses his temper and insults
another person’s child to their face. For a while, there is even a
rumour that the lord of White Tiger Estate doesn’t appear because
he has already been dead for a long time.

In the present, the Four Sages, who have been like the four pillars
that carry the four corners of the world, are all dead or disappear. As
if to follow their exit of the stage, the long period of peace also ends.

As the world plunges into chaos, both mortals and cultivators are
afraid.

The decadence of great cities and all-night festivities is like a layer of

beautiful bas-relief carved on ice, which vanishes with just a kettle of
boiling water.

However, Cheng Qian doesn’t have the heart to pay attention to any
of this.

That day, he leaves the Immortal Binding Platform together with

Tang Zhen. They take shelter in a simple inn down Shizhou
Mountain. Cheng Qian knows for the first time what the backlash by
one’s own spiritual energy looks like.

When the backlash is underway, some blue veins protrude on Yan

Zhengming’s temples. They look as if ready to break his skin and
escape at any time. His hand unconsciously clutches at the stone
bed. His groan that can’t be held back any longer breaks out, as the
thick stone of the bed is crushed to dust by his hand.

Tang Zhen says loudly, “The kids must all stay outside. This is no
joke. Whoever hasn’t formed a primordial spirit has to stay away
too… Ouch!”

Before he can finish, an immensely powerful ray of sword will erupts

from Yan Zhengming’s body. It has the chilly power of ‘divine realm’
sword cultivation. No one can last for long when facing it.
Unable to breathe, Tang Zhen falls back with a crumpled face and
presses his disturbed chest.

The entire inn shakes and seems to collapse. There is a loud crack
from a pillar. The sword will just soundlessly passes by its surface,
but a deep hole appears on the tough wood.

Tang Zhen grasps Cheng Qian’s shoulder. His skeletal fingers

squeezes harshly an injured spot, making Cheng Qian startle.

“Don’t stand there. I can’t handle his sword energy, so it all depends
on you. You must not let all of his spiritual energy leak out.
Otherwise, not only his body can’t bear the injuries caused by the
Dragon Binding Locks, everyone within several miles from here will
become collateral damage!”

Cheng Qian immediately focuses. He sends his spiritual energy to

cover the entire inn and form an invisible net, which captures the
backlashing sword energy of Yan Zhengming inside.

However, he himself only knows how to inflict violence. He has never

done something like healing or giving support for another person
before. On top of that, the inside of his mind constantly bears the
unconscious attack from the sword energy, while he has to take care
not to aggravate Yan Zhengming’s injuries. The two sides are at an
impasse. Not much time has passed, but sweat can already be seen
on Cheng Qian’s temples.

As if being ripped apart by a thousand blades, Yan Zhengming lies

on the bed carved from stone, all of his strength gone. Even his
groans don’t make any sound.

Even though he seems to be awake, his eyes are unfocused. His

mind struggles, as he is unable to tell where he is. Yan Zhengming
uses his fingers, which have gone stiff, to ineffectually grasp
something in the air. He feels that he is already using all of his
strength, but in reality only the tips of his fingers tremble a little. His
bloodless lips move weakly, as if to call “Xiao Qian”.

Tang Zhen signs a complicated spell. Right away, Cheng Qian feels
a pure breeze rises like a flow of warm water. As it sweeps through
his injuries and the bruise on his hips, they are all healed
completely.

The pleasant breeze goes past but doesn’t enter Yan Zhengming’s
body. Yan Zhengming stirs slightly. His chest goes up and down
more visibly, as he seems to regain his consciousness. Tang Zhen’s
face immediately goes pale, as if he has just died once more.

Seeing as Yan Zhengming is conscious, Tang Zhen hurriedly says,

“Sect Leader Yan, please withdraw your sword energy a bit!”

In truth, Yan Zhengming can hear him, but he can’t do anything even
if he wishes to. As his body feels like every bit of it were being sliced
by sharp blades, he thinks vaguely to himself, “Master, it hurts so
much to cultivate the sword. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Cold sweat breaking out on his temples, Tang Zhen turns to Cheng
Qian. “We can’t delay it any longer!”

Gritting his teeth, Cheng Qian uses all his might to tighten his
spiritual base and force the rioting sword energy back in one place.
As the sword energy struggles in the invisible net, all he can feel is
that a war is raging inside his head and in his energy base, that his
body is being pierced by thousands of arrows.

Li Yun, who has been waiting by the door, only sees a great light
flares up from inside. The windows shake, then a layer of frost
spreads and freezes everything.

Dragging Puddle, who has been peeking, with him, Li Yun trembles
as he pushes open the frozen door to the room.

Kneeling on one knee, Cheng Qian is holding Yan Zhengming close

to himself. His torn clothes are soaked with blood and stuck on his
body. Li Yun shakily steps forward and calls softly, “Xiao Qian?”

Cheng Qian wants to stand up, but he loses his footing. Li Yun
hastily rushes in to support him. “You’re so reckless too!”

Cheng Qian momentarily can’t say anything.

“He is fine for the time being,” Tang Zhen stands up with difficulty. He
gives the unconscious Yan Zhengming an unfathomable glance.
“You should use your spiritual energy to take care of yourself.”

They don’t tarry at Shizhou Mountain long. After a perfunctory round

of self-healing, Cheng Qian borrows Tang Zhen’s flying horse
carriage to return to Fuyao Estate in the early morning of the
following day.

The small flying horses are too scared to run. Puddle has no other
choice but to play driver herself. She blows two rays of vermilion
crane’s true fire at the tails of the horses, which spurs the two flying
horses to run wildly like headless chickens.

Tang Zhen soon gets very tired and falls asleep in a corner. When he
is awake, he looks like a well-mannered scholar with his gentle face.
When asleep, his breath becomes very quiet, and a deathly aura of a
rotting corpse emanates from him.

As Nian Dada chats randomly in a low voice, Liu Lang doesn’t give
any response. Li Yun quietly sits by the door of the carriage, as his
whole body is shrouded in an unspeakably heavy mood.

Holding an unconscious Yan Zhengming, Cheng Qian leans against

the frame of the carriage. He doesn’t see any sign of pain on Yan
Zhengming’s face, as if the latter were just bored from their Master’s
lecture in the Hall for the Teaching of the Tao and fell asleep.

Cheng Qian recalls that when he was young, their Master sent him
to live at Qing An Abode so that he could learn to find peace for his
mind. Then why would their Master let his most senior brother live in
“Land of Tenderness”?

Did their Master predict from early on that Yan Zhengming would
only get to enjoy a carefree life for a short while in his childhood?

Outside of the carriage, the rain has been falling thick in the wind.
Like a shaky storm’s lamp that is about to go out, the vermilion
crane’s true flame flashes through the night sky of a damp world.

At that moment, Liu Lang, who has been looking out of the window,
suddenly breaks the silence by speaking up, “When I realised that I
become neither human nor ghost like this, I didn’t want to live for a
while.”

He almost never speaks in front of other people, so everyone

suspects his voice has been damaged after being possessed by that
demonic cultivator and he became nearly mute.

“There is nothing bad about being a mortal,” Nian Dada yawns, then
continues as he becomes more awake, “Following the cycle of life,
having one’s own home and field, enjoying the unique pleasures of
old age, resting with one’s ancestors when dead, then becoming a
child loved by its parents in the next life.”
It is impossible to tell what kind of expression is there on Liu Lang’s
face, which is completely covered by the mask. He gives Nian Dada
a heavy glance then says in a low voice, “You don’t know what it is
like to be a mortal. You people make a spell and cause rain to fall. It
may lead to a great flood, but you won’t pay attention to that. But for
the mortals who live down the mountain, their life has been going on
peacefully as they go to sleep. Yet when they wake up, what they
see is that their houses and fields are all destroyed after just one
night, and they lose everything they have been building their whole
life.”

Nian Dada is at a loss. “About this…”

“Those are the lucky ones. At least they get to keep their lives, so
that they can leave their homeland,” Liu Lang says, “For the others,
they may die because their houses collapse on them while they are
sleeping. Or they die from stray attacks during armed conflicts. Or
they run into a demonic cultivator and die without being buried.
Afterwards, all people talk about is who wins and who loses, or
which hero kills how many demonic cultivators. Other things are
completely neglected.”

Liu Lang laughs quietly then says, “It’s like how a pedestrian kills
ants on the way by stepping on them. It isn’t intentional, but no one
pays attention to the dead ants either.”

“That’s nothing new,” Li Yun tiredly says, “Everyone who lives is an

ant. Some want to be more than ants and wish to forget that they too
are only ants in the end. In this world, happiness or tragedy has
never in humans’ control. As long as we live, we have to accept that.
Look at our sect leader and senior brother. He is a cultivator of the
sword, who has reached the ‘divine realm’. Everyone fears him, but
does that save him from suffering in his daily life just like other
people?”

The word ‘suffering’ touches a nerve of Cheng Qian’s. Hanging his

head, he lifts a hand of Yan Zhengming and feels the delicate pulse.
Before, he could sense the burden of his most senior brother, but he
has never found Yan Zhengming so fragile, that just looking on gives
him immense anxiety.

Cheng Qian looks closely for a long time but he can’t find anything.
Because his spiritual energy is cold, he dares not recklessly probe
the inside of another person’s head. Thus, paying no heed to
whether Tang Zhen is sleeping or not, he asks, “So, when will he
wake up again?”

Closing his eyes, Tang Zhen replies, “I don’t know. When one is
under backlash from one’s own mind, in addition to the disturbance
from the demon of the mind, maybe he’ll vomit blood and wake up
after a short while, maybe he’ll never wake up again and be forever
lost.”

As soon as these words are said, silence reigns over the carriage
again. Even the chatty Nian Dada dares not say anything.

Tang Zhen’s crow mouth is on the money again. The group has
returned to Fuyao Estate for more than a month, but Yan Zhengming
remains a living corpse.

Although Tang Zhen doesn’t explicitly promise anything, he probably

still feels he should bear some responsibility for teaching Yan
Zhengming the taboo technique, as he stays at the Fuyao Estate
together Nian Dada and Liu Lang. He instructs Li Yun on how to
reinforce the protective array around the estate and examines Yan
Zhengming’s state once every few days.
Tang Zhen has become used to the ways around the bamboo grove.
He drinks all of the cool water in the cup on the table in one gulp,
then asks Cheng Qian, who has been waiting for quite a while, “You
have passed all seven rounds of heavenly tribulations and formed
your body. Why are you still maintaining such asceticism?”

“I’m used to that,” Cheng Qian quietly sits next to him. A moment
later, for some reason, he adds, “Before, I felt that it was too bland to
live as a being without feeling. However, now I feel that it isn’t
necessarily a good thing to feel too much.”

“From what I see, you guys have guests again,” Tang Zhen says,
“People flock to your place like it’s a festival. But that makes sense.
Nearly all of the most powerful cultivators have fallen. After the
incident at Immortal Binding Platform, you and your disciple brothers
have become renowned. In a time full of unrest, it’s natural that you
guys will be affected by the flow of events.”

Not bothering to look up, Cheng Qian says harshly, “When there is
no tiger on the mountain, apes pretend to be kings.”

He doesn’t seem to be bothered that these words denigrate himself

too.

Tang Zhen gives him a look and says, “It seems this guest comes
from White Tiger Estate. Don’t you go to meet them?”

Cheng Qian apathetically says, “Their own lord is pretending to be

dead. What use is it that they meet me?”

Tang Zhen continues. “Looks like the Celestial Divination Bureau has
sent a card requesting for a meeting too.”

Cheng Qian’s face immediately darkens, “If they come from Celestial
Divination Bureau, just kick them out. If any of them doesn’t know
their place, then that one won’t be able to return. Even if the sun in
the sky is changed, what does it have to do with us?”

What does the current event have to do with them?

The whole world will soon know Han Yuan’s origin as a Fuyao Sect’s
disciple. Can they still stand by the side when it comes to that?

However, as Yan Zhengming is still unconscious, Cheng Qian gets

increasingly impatient and anxious. Not wanting to provoke him
further, Tang Zhen drops the topic. He steps forward and sends his
awareness to probe the inside of Yan Zhengming’s head.

This great cultivator Cheng, who earlier just preached about ‘keeping
the mind clear from all distraction’, immediately leans forward and
asks, “How is he?”

Tang Zhen doesn’t say anything for a long time. Cheng Qian can’t sit
still and walks to and fro. He is about to ask several times, but
fearing that he’ll disturb Tang Zhen, he swallows the question on his
own accord.

It takes a while for Tang Zhen to withdraw his awareness. He places

Yan Zhengming’s arm back to under the blanket with great care.
With a heavy face, he hesitates to speak.

Cheng Qian asks, “Tang-xiong?”

Tang Zhen says, “I think… you should summon your senior brother
and junior sister here.”

Cheng Qian is stunned on the spot.

He has never felt such a cold in his chest. It is as if someone

hollowed his chest out then stuffed him with permafrost, the chill of
which cut into his flesh.
Perhaps being struck by lightning can’t be any worse than that.

Tang Zhen awkwardly glances at him and says, “My young friend,
things don’t always follow human wishes. There is happiness, but
there is sadness too. You’ve been purifying your mind and abstaining
from all desires for a long time. How can you not understand that?”

“No…”

Cheng Qian’s voice breaks with just a syllable. He seems to wish to

step forward from where he is standing, but his legs shake, as if he
is about to collapse. His gaze slowly stops at Yan Zhengming. In a
split second, Tang Zhen feels that his eyes redden. But, can a piece
of jade cry?

The gaze of this person, who didn’t waver even when facing
heavenly tribulations, can be filled with panic like this?

However, his moment of helplessness is fleeting. Before Tang Zhen

can say anything, Cheng Qian’s gaze suddenly becomes
determined. He says in the tone of steel, “No, please don’t tell them
yet. Tang-xiong, you’re very knowledgeable, so you must know a
solution. Whatever you say, I’ll do it, no matter if it’s to the Heavens
or the Underworld. Even if you tell me to exchange a life for a life,
that will be no problem.”

Tang Zhen interrupts him. “Aren’t you aware of what damned words
you’re saying? If your senior brother heard that, he’d definitely stab
you first, then stab me.”

Cheng Qian stares fixedly at Tang Zhen with a chilling calmness as

he says, “I managed to forge the Spirit Collecting Jade into my body.
As long as you point me to the way, there is nothing I can’t do.”
As Tang Zhen looks more closely at him, there is no hesitation in
Cheng Qian’s eyes.

“No matter if it’s to the Heavens or the Underworld,” Tang Zhen

repeats those words. Then he smiles vaguely. “My young friend, in
this world, there are many stories of the strong bond between fellow
disciples in the same sect. However, a bond so strong like between
you guys is rarely seen.”

Cheng Qian says cooly, “This is ‘Fuyao Estate’, not ‘the world’.”

Tang Zhen doesn’t dwell on that topic anymore. “Outsiders like us

can’t fully know the dangers that lurk in the ‘divine realm’ level of
sword cultivation. He has just reached the ‘leaving the sheath’ level.
It’s already highly dangerous that he has a heart demon while his
cultivation is not yet stabilised. Yet he recklessly used a taboo
technique. Did you see the extent to which he forced his cultivation
to increase during that battle on Immortal Binding Platform?”

Cheng Qian says, “I’m not more powerful than him, so I couldn’t tell.
I can only make a guess. It must have been at least one cultivation
level.”

Tang Zhen says, “Indeed. It is like borrowing money with very high
interest. In his case, he borrowed without paying back. At ‘divine
realm’ level, a step forward is immense, so the backlash is naturally
lethal.”

Cheng Qian immediately understands what Tang Zhen is driving at.

“Then, as long as his actual cultivation catches up to what he
borrowed, the backlash will be less painful for him? I can give him all
of my spiritual energy. I’ll only have to cultivate again for another
hundred years. One gets used to heavenly tribulations after a while.”
Hearing that, Tang Zhen is stunned. Then he can’t help laughing as
he says, “What are you thinking? That spiritual energy is like a bowl
of rice that you can give away at a whim? You aren’t a cultivator of
the sword anyway, and even if you were, the spiritual energy of two
different sword cultivators might not be compatible with each other.”

At this point, Tang Zhen sighs. “To overcome this tribulation, he must
enter the level of ‘entering the scabbard’ before his flesh-and-blood
body is destroyed. But you must under understand that in cultivation,
you need to work a lot for a little bit of progress. Even those of
demonic cultivation, who use shortcut, can’t progress too fast. As a
sword cultivator, every step he takes requires immense effort. There
is absolutely nothing external that can help him increase his
cultivation. What we can do for him from the outside is extremely
limited. Even if you want to, you just can’t.”

Cheng Qian’s face immediately darkens.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 74

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for editing and InkSplatterM for

English help!

*******

Under Shizhou Mountain, when the spiritual energy in his mind

backlashes for the first time, Yan Zhengming really doesn’t want to
live anymore.

For a normal person, he can at least pass out when the bodily pains
become too much. For Yan Zhengming, though he may pass out, his
primordial spirit is wide awake and is stuck with the rioting sword
energy in the inside of his head, which is nearly crushed. He can
neither fight against it, nor can he run away. Inside him, not only his
spiritual energy is in upheaval, there is also a deadly crack caused
by the Dragon Binding Locks. That crack is mitigated only by the
sword energy that causes trouble for both him and other people.

He has no other choice but to find joy in his suffering and proudly
thinks, “I’m unexpectedly powerful.”

However, just a second later, he has to bear a strike from his very
powerful sword.

A sword cultivator’s primordial spirit and sword energy can unite and
become one because they have the same origin. The backlash
happens inside his own head, so he won’t die even if he is stabbed
into a sieve.

The more deadly problem is that inside his chaotic head, there is not
only sword energy but also the fluttering black smoke, which is no
other than that damned heart demon.

This thing can’t be hurt by anything. From time to time, it’ll emerge
from some unexpected corner. If it manages to snare his primordial
spirit, it will give him a brutal tongue lashing.

It starts with leading him into a pleasant illusion, in which the

possibility to satisfy his deepest desire is displayed. As soon as he is
tempted to take up the chance, the illusion immediately changes. It
may take the shape of his Master, or Cheng Qian with an icy
expression, or even Yan Zhengming himself, but the action and
attitude are always the same, which is pointing at his face and
shouting, “Shameless beast!”

He has to go through that mental burden while being pierced by his

own sword at the same time, which is an unbearable torture for both
his mind and his heart. This process keeps repeating without end.

What should Yan Zhengming feel, when he has to be painfully run

through by his own sword energy under Cheng Qian’s glare?

In the beginning, Yan Zhengming thinks to himself, “Why the hell

should I keep on living? I should just destroy my own mind and get
everything over with. In any case, I’m just a shameless beast.”

However, he always remembers right away that with his cultivation,

once he destroys his own mind, everyone within a good distance
from him will be seriously hurt if they are not killed in the first place.
Therefore, he has to endure.
He smiles painfully and says to the shade of Cheng Qian in front of
him, “You… if someday you want to kill me, I guess I’ll just lay down
and die myself.”

That reaction seems to be not what the effect the demon of the heart
expected, so it cleverly transforms into Yan Zhengming himself.

Yan Zhengming immediately pales and hatefully turns away. “If it’s
you, forget it. Fuck off over there and drop dead.”

Gradually, he gets used to the torture. The desire to live rebelliously

rises in his heart, as he thinks. “If I really die, then what will happen
to our sect? What will happen to my junior brothers? Do I want Xiao
Qian to have to taste my century-long pains?”

As soon as this last thought emerges, Yan Zhengming can’t resist

indulging in some fantasy. If he dies here right away like that, will
Cheng Qian remember him for eternity out of grief? Although it is a
really painful idea, as soon as he imagines that, in the future whether
during cultivation or ascension, Cheng Qian will never get over him,
Yan Zhengming feels so happy that he grins toothily.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t get to be happy for long, because the

demon of the heart will periodically appear and reminds him that he
is a shameless beast.

As more time passes, Yan Zhengming discovers that his primordial

spirit can hear the sounds from the outside.

He knows that this isn’t a good sign. The weaker a primordial spirit
is, the easier it gets assimilated by the body and accordingly
receives part of what the body senses. For him to hear sounds, that
means his primordial spirit can’t last for much longer. Nevertheless,
when he first hears Cheng Qian’s voice, he is so happy that he is
nearly pierced by the sword energy from head to toe.

The problem is, for a long while, Cheng Qian doesn’t say much,
despite being always there.

The most talkative one is Puddle. Yan Zhengming discovers for the
first time that his little sister has the bad habit of monologuing to
anything. Every time she opens her mouth, she starts with “Most
senior brother, I know you can’t hear me, but,” then yammers on for
a good while.

From her, Yan Zhengming learns that he has been back to Fuyao
Estate, and that Cheng Qian took him to the bamboo grove and has
been looking after him without rest. Yan Zhengming even learns
about the chaotic situation outside thanks to her habit of telling
everything without discrimination. Compared to her, Li Yun is more
boring, because he only sighs and occasionally complains a little.

Only when Tang Zhen comes over, that Yan Zhengming can hungrily
listen to a few lines from the person he yearns for.

Thus, he gets to hear something very important.

Yan Zhengming completely ignores the part where Tang Zhen

recommends preparing for his funeral. To him, it is just white noise.
Only the line “no matter if it’s to the Heavens or the Underworld”
stays with him.

With just this line, the constantly lurking demon of the heart
withdraws, as if being scared off by his dumb smile. The black
energy that has been covering everywhere suffers a mysterious
damage and significantly fades.
“Do I have a chance?” He thinks to himself, as his soul does a
somersault.

Unfortunately, the backlashing sword energy isn’t at all affected. His

primordial spirit is stabbed and pinned on the spot. As his primordial
spirit lies feebly in the disquieting head, Yan Zhengming sighs and
thinks, “My feelings for him are worth it. Well, I can rest in peace.”

However, he himself doesn’t notice that the damage caused by the

Dragon Binding Lock to his mind slowly heals a little.

Outside the bamboo grove of Fuyao Estate, Puddle hugs an ancient

sword in her lap. It is none other than Cheng Qian’s Shuang Ren.

When Cheng Qian was tied up and taken to the Immortal Binding
Platform, Shuang Ren was taken from him by Yang Decheng. During
the chaos that broke out later, the sword fell into the possession of
White Tiger Estate. When the White Tiger Estate sent a messenger
to establish a friendly relationship, they also returned this killer sword
that brought bad luck to whoever held it.

Switching from human form to bird form then back, Puddle makes
countless rounds outside the bamboo grove. She is about to pluck
out all of her own tail feathers out of anxiety, but she can’t find a way
to open the conversation. The day before, when Tang Zhen left the
estate, he sent a message to Li Yun and told him to help Cheng Qian
not to get too caught up in the situation.

It is likely that Li Yun has a bad feeling and dares not come himself,
so he pushes all the responsibility on her.

If the worst really happens… Puddle jumps down from the top of the
tree and stands there motionless for a while, as a great sorrow
slowly spreads in her chest.
Her most senior brother is impossible to please, in addition to his
habit of lashing out at her. However, she really can’t imagine what it
will be like, if he isn’t there anymore. Just thinking vaguely about that
is enough to make Puddle feel like the sky is about to collapse.

As she is standing without moving on that spot, the door to the

building in the bamboo grove is suddenly opened from the inside.
Before she can prepare herself, she already faces Cheng Qian, who
is going outside.

“Third… Third Brother,” Puddle stammers, “Second Brother told me

to return Shuang Ren to you.”

“Oh, I nearly forget it,” Receiving Shuang Ren, Cheng Qian looks
over her. His face softens. “It’s only returning my sword. Why are you
crying?”

Puddle wipes her face. It isn’t until then that she realises her face is
already wet with tears. All of the fears and hurt in her heart erupt and
choke her, making her unable to say anything.

Cheng Qian looks up and sees Li Yun standing on the artificial

mountain of the estate, who is looking on worriedly from afar. How
can he not get what these two are thinking?

After a pause, Cheng Qian taps lightly on Puddle’s head with his
finger and says softly without hesitation. “Don’t cry. I won’t let
anything happen to him. You can rest assured about that.”

Puddle widens her eyes and stares at him through the tears.

Cheng Qian gives way to her and says, “Come in. I have to find Tang
Zhen for something.”
As he turns to leave, as if with divine intervention, something flashes
in Puddle’s simple mind. “Third Brother, please don’t be reckless.
You’re already protecting our most senior brother by protecting
yourself.”

These extraordinary words pin Cheng Qian on the spot, as a strange

feeling rises in his heart. It takes a while for him to quietly hums a
reply without looking back.

Wherever there are human emotions, there are unrest and pain. The
flavours of life are no other than that.

On the other side Tang Zhen listens carefully to Cheng Qian. He

seems startled by what he hears. “What? There is no… Can you be
mistaken? He, a sword cultivator who has reached the ‘divine realm’
level, doesn’t have his personal sword?”

No matter how many high-level spells carved on the blade of a

sword, no matter how many precious artifacts used to forge that
sword, no matter if there is the soul of a great warrior or a powerful
demon sealed inside it, that sword is still a nonliving thing made from
regular iron. It can be used to kill people, but can also be used as a
knife to cut vegetables.

Only the blood of the many souls perished under a sword can give it
a killer aura. Only the spiritual power and swordplay techniques of
the sword’s wielder gives it its spirit. The sword’s mind arises from
the primordial spirit of the one who wields it. Time and time again,
the wielder and the sword refine each other. That’s the only way to
create a sword that truly connects with its wielder.

It may not matter that much for the practitioners of the other paths,
but the personal sword of a sword cultivator is of vital importance.
Normally, the characteristics of the sword define the spiritual power
and the affinity with the Five Elements of the wielder, among other
things. Therefore, as soon as a sword cultivator reaches
‘concentrate the mind’ level, their first task is to find the sword Fate
has assigned to them.

A sword cultivator without his personal sword is just like a beast

without claws and fangs. What has Yan Zhengming been relying on
to reach the ‘divine realm’ of sword cultivation?

After a while, Tang Zhen still can’t recover from his surprise. “Then
which sword he has been using?”

“A regular sword,” Cheng Qian says, “He had a room full of swords
when he was young. He hung them on the wall as decoration. If the
sword he was using broke, he would just replace it with a new one.”

When he newly reached ‘concentrate the mind’ level, Yan

Zhengming had to lead everyone of his sect in their hasty escape
from Azure Dragon Island. Then he wandered the world with Li Yun
and Puddle. He had to make a living for his family while keeping up
with his sword cultivation. On top of that, he had to deal with the sect
leader seal. It can easily be seen how occupied he was. As he had
no trustworthy senior nearby to instruct him, he completely ignored
the sword issue.

“I stayed up the whole night to come up with a solution,” Cheng Qian

says, “A sword is the only external factor I can come up with for a
sword cultivator, which can connect with his mind. It just happens
that my senior brother doesn’t have his own sword. Tang-xiong, if I
can find that sword for him, will he be able to directly reach the
‘sheathing’ level?”

Tang Zhen hesitates a little before replying. “I really haven’t

considered that. Your senior brother is indeed an unprecedented
case. In this situation, if a suitable sword can be found for him, it may
not help him progress to the next level, but it can still prevent further
unrest in his mind. As long as he can wake up and use his spiritual
energy to heal himself, both his injuries and heart demon can be
gradually dealt with.”

Sweats suddenly seep out from Cheng Qian’s palm. They stick on
Shuang Ren’s handle and form a thin layer of ice. He can’t help but
asks urgently, “Where can I find this sword? I have no clue for this,
so I have no other choice but to consult you. If I can really…
really…”

He is unable to continue. It takes a while for him to say slowly. “Tang-

xiong, please help me with this. My life will be yours.”

“No, no, no,” Tang Zhen hastily waves his hand. “It’s just common
knowledge that anyone who lives long enough can tell you. Don’t be
so rash. We definitely have some clue for this case. Otherwise,
sword cultivators wouldn’t have time to do anything else besides
searching for their swords. Normally, a sword cultivator doesn’t enter
the Tao based on nothing. They must be guided by a sword energy
from somewhere around him. As far as I know, the personal sword of
a sword cultivator is usually the one in their hand when they enter
the Tao. Of course, there are exceptions.”

Cheng Qian frowns. “He is that exception. When the disciples of my

sect begin to learn swordplay, we all use bladeless sword made from
wood.”

Tang Zhen asks, “Then, the place where he entered the Tao is…”

Cheng Qian’s eyes twitch a little as he says, “Fuyao Mountain. We

can’t return there.”
Tang Zhen asks, “Who instructed him when he entered the Tao?”

Cheng Qian’s face becomes even heavier. “My Master.”

Tang Zhen knows it himself that Muchun Zhenren’s soul was gone a
long time ago.

Cheng Qian says, “Tang-xiong…”

“When a sword cultivator enters the Tao, what guides them is only
one in these three factors: the weapon in their hand, a divine artifact,
or the sword energy of a powerful cultivator nearby. He was using a
wooden sword when he entered the Tao, so it’s obviously not the first
type. Therefore, his sword was guided by some divine artifact on
Fuyao Mountain, or your esteemed Master himself.”

At this point, even Tang Zhen looks visibly disappointed. The newly
found chance and hope quickly turn impossible in a blink of the eye,
as if Yan Zhengming’s fate has been decided.

Tang Zhen pauses then shakes his head. “You… Alas, please bear
with it.”

Cheng Qian stands helplessly on the spot for a while. Then he picks
up Shuang Ren and turns to leave. Tang Zhen hurriedly follows him.
“Where are you going?”

“To the Valley of No Sorrow, where my Master’s soul was gone,”

Cheng Qian says without looking back. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll go
find Wen Ya, or go to White Tiger Estate, or the Azure Dragon
Island, or even the Black Tortoise Hall. Anywhere that may have
something of my Master’s, I’ll search there.”

Tang Zhen says, “Won’t you just run around like a headless chicken
like that? Assuming that your Master left something, what if his
sword has no relation to your Master and can only be found on
Fuyao Mountain? Furthermore, even if you are lucky enough to find
it, in his current state, his body won’t last more than a hundred days.
How can you be back in time?”

Cheng Qian turns sharply. For a second, Tang Zhen can’t breathe,
as a vague fear swells in his heart. He feels that Cheng Qian himself
is a sword, not any different from Shuang Ren.

Standing against the light, Cheng Qian stresses every word. “I know,
but… I refuse to cry before he is in the coffin.”

Cheng Qian is the type that puts his money where his mouth is. He
goes directly to Li Yun after living the guest quarters and drops a
line. “I’m going out for something. Will definitely be back after one
hundred days.”

He disappears without bothering to wait for Li Yun’s response.

Li Yun: “…”

It isn’t until then that, for the first time, he understands his most
senior brother’s desire to call it quits and go home when they were
on Azure Dragon Island back then.

Right at that moment, Puddle charges in, panting, “Second Brother!”

Li Yun unhappily says, “What’s the problem with you again?”

“Our most senior brother, this place on him…” Puddle points at her
forehead. There is a long and thin dark red mark on Yan
Zhengming’s forehead, which is the sign that he is under siege by
the demon of the heart. Puddle incoherently says, as she uses her
fingers to illustrate, “Suddenly became shorter!”
Does she think that the heart demon’s mark will become shorter just
because she says so, as if it were an uncooked noodle? This girl’s
mind is really strange.

Li Yun wants to tell her off, but Puddle already continues, “I thought
my eyes deceived me, so I said ‘Most senior brother, why does your
heart demon’s mark seem to shorten’. As soon as I said that, the
mark indeed became shorter, as if he heard what I said!”

Cheng Qian isn’t aware of what has been going on in the estate. In
the early morning of the next day, he already leaves and travels non-
stop to the Valley of No Sorrow. The rollercoaster of emotions, as he
finds hope then discovers that the hope is far from his reach, really
tires him out, such that even with his high cultivation and heart of
steel, his legs can’t help shaking when he rides his sword.

When he is in that old place again, he takes a deep breath to calm

his disquiet heart, then strides into the valley. There seems to be
some barrier ward in this valley, because Shuang Ren buzzes as
soon as it is near the place. The blade shakes to the point that it gets
out of control, and it absolutely refuses to stop, as if being extremely
scared of something. Cheng Qian has no other choice but to land
and go on his own feet.

He can’t help but recall the first time he returned from there. Lord Gu
sent a group of cultivators to look for him, but for some reason, those
powerful warriors dared not set one step into the valley.

As Cheng Qian raises his head, the Valley of No Sorrow is like a

giant jewel of nature. From afar, it emanates a layer of mysterious
fog, which doesn’t seem to be of the mortal world.

Maybe the body forged from the Spirit Collection Jade of his is too
sensitive, but Cheng Qian keeps having the feeling that there is an
unusual energy in this valley.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 75

Thanks a lot to MrMissMrsRandom for the edits!

*******

The sun shines on the jewel and gives off a sheen, which can be
seen but cannot be touched.1

The entire Valley of No Sorrow emanates an unusual aura.

The previous time he entered the Valley of No Sorrow, Cheng Qian

was only an ignorant child, who didn’t even know how he ended up
there. This time, he intentionally looks for the place, but as if blocked
by ghosts, he keeps circling back to the starting point for an entire
day.

That year, he was in a great shock because of his Master’s death, so

the part where he took Puddle to escape the Valley of No Sorrow left
only a vague memory. He only remembers that though it was a hard
trip, there wasn’t much dangers besides the wild animals.

However, in the present, the world’s most brutal sword Shuang Ren
is staying close to him like a scared lamb.

Cheng Qian silently covers himself with spiritual energy and recites
the Scripture of Serenity. He then signs a spell and lightly wipes his
eyes, making a frosty light flash from them. Normal demonic tricks
cannot deceive the eyes reinforced by primordial spirit. However,
Cheng Qian frowns slightly as he observes his surroundings.

This valley is too quiet. Quiet to an abnormal degree.

The mountains are like jewels, and the greenery is beautiful. Yet
such a large valley has neither infernal aura nor the spiritual energy
of nature.

There is no sound, as if the scene were from a painting.

Without making a noise, Cheng Qian sits down where he is and tries
his best to calm the slight wave of anxiety in his heart. He
immediately recalls something that doesn’t quite make sense. His
Master said their disciple grandfather had ‘fought that battle from
Fuyao Mountain to the Valley of No Sorrow, which was two hundred
miles away from there.”

Why was it the Valley of No Sorrow?

Was it really the case that Fuyao Mountain wasn’t large enough for
those warriors to fully use their power?

When he was young, Cheng Qian totally lacked common knowledge.

He was completely ignorant of the cultivation world, and thought that
one would only encounter ghosts when roaming outside at night.
Later, when he formed a primordial spirit and encountered heavenly
tribulations, he vaguely senses a force that is present everywhere,
such that everything that exists in this world has a hidden side that
fits some mysterious, predetermined pattern.

What is the hidden side of “Valley of No Sorrow”?

Was it really just a coincidence back then, when he stumbled into the
Valley of No Sorrow?
As the sky darkens, the aura that is like a jewel’s sheen of the valley
becomes accordingly more melancholy. A fluttering sound can be
heard in the wind, as if there were many people walking past him.

When the last sunlight disappears, Shuang Ren suddenly gives off a
buzz without any warning.

Startled, Cheng Qian opens his eyes, but all he sees is a mortal child
dressed in rags, who is standing in front of him without him being
aware of it.

That child is skinny as a stick, like he has never had enough to eat.
Only his head is especially large. He is at most seven or eight years
old. One can see his missing teeth when he grins.

The child, who has been squatting in silence, grins to Cheng Qian as
he opens his eyes and stares at him.

Cheng Qian was in seclusion in the ice lake of Mingming Valley for
decades, so his body has a permanent frosty aura that keeps
strangers away from him. If he doesn’t hide his aura, not just mortals
but even cultivators are scared of him.

However, the mortal brat in front of him doesn’t seem to be afraid at

all. On the contrary, he curiously pokes at the frost-covered Shuang
Ren with his dirty finger. It seems that he finds it too cold, because
he withdraws his hand with a grimace and asks, “Mister Xiucai2, why
are you sitting down and sleeping here?”

After a pause, Cheng Qian replies, “I’m not a Xiucai.”

“Oh, then you are a Lord Juren2?” The child widens his eyes. “My
father says only scholars wear long robes like this. Farmers have to
work in the fields, so they can’t wear these clothes.”
It’s hard to explain things properly to an ignorant provincial child, so
Cheng Qian doesn’t say anything. He only smiles to the child.

The child grins, showing his missing teeth, and says, “I am Erlang.
You wish to enter the valley? My home is right in there.”

Having said that, he points in the direction of the Valley of No

Sorrow. Cheng Qian is quietly startled. Since when have people lived
in the Valley of No Sorrow?

Looking at the child again, Cheng Qian senses that there is

something really not right about him. As if seizing on a thought, he
stands up and follow the skipping child into the valley.

It is strange that, as soon as his thought becomes clear, the winding

path makes way for a clear road on which the two of them can easily
travel inside.

Erlang doesn’t walk properly. He constantly gets sidetracked by

catching fireflies or picking flowers or throwing rocks into a ditch.
From time to time, he grabs Cheng Qian’s robe with his muddy hand
and rambles on.

“My home wasn’t here before. Then there was a great disaster. My
father died. My mother didn’t care about me anymore, so I moved
here with my grandpa and many neighbours in my village.”

A vague idea flashes in Cheng Qian’s heart, so he asks, “What kind

of disaster?”

“No idea,” Erlang says, “I don’t really understand it. My grandpa said
it was a punishment from the immortals or something. The immortals
are really terrible. Lord Juren, where is your home? Are you a grand
official?”
Cheng Qian hesitates, but the child doesn’t wait for his reply. As they
are talking, he grabs Cheng Qian’s sword without any fear, then
looks up and acts gravely like an adult, “In that case, you have to try
and be a fair official!”

Cheng Qian’s hand trembles slightly.

Because of his spiritual power, his body temporary is already

significantly lower than normal. He is also holding Shuang Ren,
which is extremely cold. Even so, he still feels frozen by this child.

Cheng Qian looks down. Erlang immediately gives him his toothless
carefree smile. However, there are bright red marks around this
boy’s neck and the parts not covered by the sleeves.

It is said that only those who are frozen to death have this kind of red
marks.

In a blink of an eye, Cheng Qian comes to a realisation. Only in a

place of eternal rest that there can be no sorrow of the living world.

He stops in his tracks and asks in a low voice. “Are you feeling
cold?”

Hearing that, Erlang grins and shakes his head. “On the contrary, I’m
feeling hot!”

His face is completely carefree, but there seems to be some pale

marks on it.

At that moment, an old man calls out in a low voice, “Erlang, come
home right now!”

Hearing that, Erlang immediately lets go of Cheng Qian’s hand and

replies energetically, “I’ll be right back!”
He skips a few steps around the spot, as he tells Cheng Qian, “My
grandpa calls me back already. Lord Juren, you should find someone
and ask for directions if you need to go somewhere.”

Then he bounces away as he hums a folk song of some unknown

region. The thing is, he has no shadow.

“Hey,” Cheng Qian suddenly calls after him. Erlang turns back and
stares at him with his wide eyes that are free from the dust of the
world.

Cheng Qian quietly stays where he is and leans on Shuang Ren,

which has claimed countless souls. In the darkness of the night, he
looks like the statue of a handsome deity. He says in a soft voice,
“When I was a child, I was called Erlang too.”

In a blink of an eye, he seems to see the crossroads of the chaotic

human fate, full of feelings and passions.

Since that time when his primordial spirit enters the Spirit Collection
Jade, he has not been affected by the joys and sorrows of the
human world so clearly like this.

Erlang gives him a surprised look, then scratching his unkempt head,
he grins and runs off.

Cheng Qian quietly exhales. There is a yearning bubbling up in his

heart. If this world has a place for the souls of the dead, then...

He turns into a shadow and gracefully passes by the villages of

death like a breeze into the centre of the valley.

There is no sign of the tigers and wolves that were prowling the last
time he was here. Cheng Qian instinctively understands that those
wild animals that scared him into running back then were just a
nightmare, as he was an unarmed child who had a heart full of
blades.

This time, Cheng Qian doesn’t get lost again. He quickly finds the
place that has Tong Ru’s remains.

It is a new moon night. The sky is clear like crystal with the light of
countless stars. Those old bones don’t seem scary at all, but give off
an indescribable peacefulness. Cheng Qian senses a vague
resonance between Shuang Ren and the human remains in front of
him.

At that moment, the scenery in front of him suddenly changes, as if

the curtains hiding something had been lifted.

A quiet voice interrogates him, “In your life, what is the happiest
moment? What is the most painful moment? Why do you insist on
this path? Have you had any regrets in these recent years?”

This voice is very familiar, but Cheng Qian can’t recall where he has
heard it before. Within seconds, he sees his weasel-like Master
carried his child self to hide from the rain, all the while rambling
about something. The child with a face full of soot in the half-
collapsed shrine looked up in surprise, his hands holding a beggar’s
chicken that had just been taken off the mud cover…

The long path suddenly changes to Fuyao Mountain. In the richly-

decorated Land of Tenderness, the arrogant youth listlessly ordered
his maid to give the two children a handful of pine nut candies each.
With a face visibly full of disdain, as soon as he got out of the room,
the little Cheng Qian, who was only as tall as an adult’s waist, gave
without a care the candies to his junior brother, whom he found just
as insufferable.
As if possessed, Cheng Qian steps forward and receives the packet
of pine nut candies. He puts a candy in his mouth. The sharp
sweetness wakes up his tongue, which hasn’t tasted any flavour for
a long time, and sends him into a light trance.

Unable to help himself, Cheng Qian gives way to the child on the
stairs and slowly walks to the youth, who demands his hair to be
brushed eight times a day. He watches that spoiled youth orders
around his maids and servants, as something inside him breaks and
drowns him in it.

Moving forward, Cheng Qian pulls the youth into his lap and holds
him like holding the treasure of his life.

At that age, Cheng Qian’s most senior brother hasn’t fully grown yet.
He is still slender the way teenagers are. He is a bit smaller than his
peers, and is only as tall as Cheng Qian’s lips.

Cheng Qian lifts his head a little and rests his chin on the head of the
youth. In that moment, everything blurs in his eyes.

That is the happiest and at the same time most painful moment in his
life.

As he holds the person he yearns for the most in his arms, he faces
himself without hesitation, as he realises where his life will return to.
At the same time, he understands clearly that everything is not real,
that all hopes are as distant as a strand of sunlight when the sun
sets.

Time flows, only death is certain.

At that moment, a sigh can be heard, and Cheng Qian’s arms

become empty. He looks up and sees that all the illusions
disappeared. Muchun Zhenren has been standing in front of him for
who knows how long. A bit further away is Lord Beiming: Tong Ru.
His limbs are bound by pitch black chains, and his body is
surrounded by a sphere of white light. Countless blades relentlessly
spawn from that sphere and cut into him. However, he sits peacefully
next to his skeleton, and doesn’t seem to be in pain at all.

Cheng Qian asks, “Master? D- disciple grandfather, this is…”

Tong Ru nods to him from a distance and replies, “For my

unforgivable crime, after my death, I have to undergo the
punishment of being tormented by countless blades. I hope it doesn’t
look too bloody?”

Cheng Qian: “…”

With a teasing smile, Muchun Zhenren signals for Cheng Qian to

come nearer and comments, “You’re still wearing this stone face
even as an adult. Not cute at all.”

Cheng Qian says softly, “Is my most senior brother’s habit of finding
new ways to cause trouble everyday cute then?”

Muchun Zhenren smiles, “If he is so annoying, then why did you hold
him so tightly without any desire to let go?”

Cheng Qian’s face darkens. He closes his eyes. After a long while,
he says in a low voice, “Indeed, it was rude of me.”

The smile of Muchun Zhenren fades away. He wants to pat Cheng

Qian’s head as was his habit, but as he raises his hand, he realises
that Cheng Qian has become a little taller than him. He can’t reach
his head as easily as before, so he hesitates in a moment of
embarrassment.

Cheng Qian quietly puts Shuang Ren to a side and kneels down.
Muchun Zhenren asks, “How can you come here?”

“The Valley of No Sorrow is the realm of the dead from the human
world,” Tong Ru says casually from where he is, “Most of the
wandering souls from all over the world will linger here for a while
then fade. There are also those who are neither dead nor alive and
have to wait here, until they completely rot away together with the
grass and trees. On principle, living humans can’t enter this place.
Back then, as the two great evils that were myself and the Soul
Consuming Lamp battled to the death with each other, the half-
formed soul-tracing charm was activated. Those two were still
children and thus not counted as full living humans, so they were
sucked in. This time, this kid no longer has a flesh and blood body,
so of course he can enter here freely.”

Cheng Qian smiles ruefully, “My soul is still in this world, but my body
is no longer here. I dare not claim things like ‘the heart is swayed by
the body’3 anymore.”

Muchun Zhenren gives him a piercing look and asks, “Kid, why are
you here at the Valley of No Sorrow?”

Cheng Qian tells him everything from the beginning to the end.

“I see,” There is no expression on Muchun Zhenren’s face. A

moment later, he says coldly, such that each of his word draws
blood, “I thought you were here to visit my grave. As it turns out,
you’re here to dig up the grave.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

To be fair, it is indeed like that.

Muchun Zhenren folds his arms and complains in a piteous voice.

“Alas, keeping dogs is better than having disciples. They all grow up
into ungrateful bastards.”

Next to him, Tong Ru says with a smile, “Indeed, the sword

cultivators of us Fuyao Sect aren’t led by external artifacts. The
guide into the path is just the wooden sword. The Master is just
decoration, and of course there is no such nonsense as outside
influence around. If you want to talk about a guide, then there is only
the Fuyao Wooden Sword itself. What? Have you already forgotten
what it was like when you were guided by the wooden sword into the
first steps of cultivation?”

When a youth holds the wooden sword for the first time and
immerses himself in that comical opening move, he will be led by the
wooden sword to the realm of the sword will. Cheng Qian’s mind
turns, as something dawns on him.

The chains on his arms give off a clang as Tong Ru says with a soft
laugh, “Yes, it’s precisely that. You should go. Don’t return here
anymore. It’s likely you won’t be able to meet us the next time you
come here anyway.”

He is neither dead nor alive, as he waits here for the day he rots
completely together with the grass and trees.

Cheng Qian can’t resist asking, “Disciple grandfather, did you really
enter the Three Lives Mystic Site?”

Muchun Zhenren’s eyes spasm a little, showing that he is being

reminded of a great trauma.

“Yeah, I was there,” In a contrast, Tong Ru’s face is unmoving. He

looks like an old monk who has entered a meditative trance. “Then I
consulted Xu Yingzhi. He cast the divination and gave me three
rounds of Great Misfortune. On top of that, he told me to obey the
Heavens’ Will and meekly wait for death. I found that it was useless
to have those kind of friends, so upon my return, I gave the sect
leader seal to Xiao… your Master, then went to the Tower of No
Regret.”

“Tower of what?”

“‘Don’t look back as you enter that place of no return. The Tower of
No Regret where you give away your child without a tear.’ Ah, it’s
also known as ‘Tower of the Heart Demon’,” Tong Ru says, “Fuyao
Mountain is a natural mystic site. You must have heard of that
already. Legend has it that a powerful cultivator who had ascended
brought that mystic site into this world from outside the Three
Realms to guard the Tower of the Heart Demon. It also acts as a
barrier between the human world and the world of the yao. Our
Fuyao Sect is none other than the lineage of the guardians, who
were entrusted to protect that gate.”

Cheng Qian is stunned to hear such a thing. “Is that true?”

“Likely not. It’s just a legend, the same as those stories of Hong Jun
and Pan Gu creating the world,” Tong Ru looks at him with a good-
humoured smile on the lips. At his moment, the Lord of all demons
doesn’t seem scary at all. On the contrary, he seems pretty down to
earth. “But the Tower of No Regret is real, and it carries an artifact
that goes against the will of the Heavens.”

Cheng Qian blurts out, “The Wish-granting Stone?”

“After entering the Three Lives Mystic Site, my obsession was too
much that I went into qi deviation. I risked everything to walk up the
eighteen thousand steps of the Tower of No Regret, and retrieved
the stone that had been sealed off by Fuyao Mountain for thousands
of years. Then, ignoring the advice of the Four Sages, I pledged a
million lives as a sacrifice to the stone, in return for an impossible
wish.”

These final words give off a terrifying air. Recalling his Master’s
words “those who died under you hands” when he sealed the soul of
Lord Beiming, Cheng Qian can’t help feeling a chill in his heart.

“Frankly speaking, the souls you met in the valley are all outcomes
of that seed,” Tong Ru smiles ruefully. “My crime is unforgivable, but
at least my wish was… honest.”

Cheng Qian can’t resist asking, “Who led you into the Three Lives
Mystic Site back then?”

Without any resentment or hatred on his face, Tong Ru says simply,

“One that meets their retribution.”

Cheng Qian wants to press on, but Muchun Zhenren sighs and
interrupts him. “Xiao-Qian, it’s nearly morning.”

Cheng Qian is startled, as there is already light in the East.

Muchun Zhenren looks at him and smiles. “I thought you could stay
for a while longer, but it looks like that’s not possible.”

When he was young, his ignorance was a shield for him. In the
present, Cheng Qian nearly cries as he hears these words. He
chokes for a while, then says tearfully, “I want to stay here with you
for eternity, but I promised him that I would return within a hundred
days. I absolutely can’t fail that.”

Not far from there, Tong Ru smiles ruefully, as if he is amused, or is

recalling something.

He suddenly raises his hand. The chains binding his body give off a
loud clang and the energy of the blades torturing him surges, as he
pushes Cheng Qian away.

The face of Muchun Zhenren gradually fades away, as miles of the

dead’s souls flash by under his feet.

For a moment, Cheng Qian loses consciousness.

********
1. From 与极浦书 by Si Kong Tu (author's note)
2. Xiucai (秀才) and Juren (举人): Titles of scholars who passed the
imperial examination and thus eligible to work as imperial officials.
Xiucai is provincial level, Juren is national level.
3. From 歸去來辭 by Tao Yuanming
 Liu Yao - Chapter 76

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

*******

When Cheng Qian arrives back at Fuyao Estate, he sees that no one
in the estate is working, as they all gather and stare at something.

There is a crowd of people and carriages in front of the estate’s gate.

Two lines of silent soldiers stand parallel with each other by the gate
like stone pillars. A carriage is parked near them. Although the two
horses look nothing extraordinary to mortal eyes, Cheng Qian
realises with just a glance that they are flying horses of decent
quality.

In front of the flying horse carriage are two cultivators of fairly

advanced levels. They have both formed their primordial spirits. One
of them, who has the face of a youth, is shrouded in a special chilly
aura.

That one is definitely a sword cultivator.

Countless people visit the estate in recent times. It’s on Li Yun to

deal with them. Cheng Qian doesn’t care enough about them to stop.
However, he raises Shuang Ren, as there is only one reason for him
to slow down: a group of people who dress all in black with their
faces covered stand behind the carriage, which bears the flag of the
Celestial Divination Bureau.
The older cultivator is asking to be let in. He talks very politely and
presents very reasonable arguments, such as the state of the realm
or civilians' lives. The person who is watching the gate of the estate
must be Puddle, as the distinctive True Fire of a vermillion crane
flashes over the nameplate made from stone of the estate.

Puddle is very good at using one method to deal with everything that
comes at her. No matter which reason is brought up, she uses the
exactly same reply: “Please leave.”

If Cheng Qian didn’t recognise her voice, he’d think that an

automaton had been installed to play that response.

The older cultivator looks a bit helpless. The younger sword

cultivator beside him hugs his sword to his chest and says without
any reservation. “Senior Brother, why are you wasting your breath
with them? These people have been hiding themselves from the
world. I suspect their chief the sword cultivator isn’t amount to much.
It seems that the person who creates the array surrounding this
estate hasn’t even formed their primordial spirit. Even if we force our
way in, who can stop us?”

“Shut up,” The older cultivator interrupts him. As he turns to

admonish the other one, his gaze suddenly freezes, as he can’t help
but place his hand on his great sabre.

The young sword cultivator follows his gaze. Someone is standing

on the top of the great tree not far from there.

That person’s feet only touch the tree lightly. His sleeves billow in the
wind like grey flags.

None of them notices his arrival.

This person is none other than Cheng Qian.

He looks down with an apathetic face that isn’t quite of a living
human. The young sword cultivator can’t help feeling threatened.
“Who are you?”

Before he even finishes his line, Cheng Qian suddenly aims his gaze
at them.

Within seconds, Cheng Qian flies down from the tree and lands in
front of the sword cultivator. A frosty energy quickly spreads, as
killing intent emanates from his every move. All of the cultivators
around instinctively fall back a good distance.

Not bothering to sparing them a glance, Cheng Qian says with a

disdainful smile, “You still dare ask who I am while blocking the way
into my home?”

Hearing that, the older cultivator quickly steps forward and salutes. “I
am Wu Changtian, a humble official of the Celestial Divination
Bureau. I come here to request a meeting with your esteemed sect’s
leader. Daoyu, may I ask how I should address you?”

Cheng Qian has been prepared to flex his muscles against these
people since a long time ago. He says immediately. “What the hell is
a Celestial Divination Bureau? Piss off!”

He doesn’t wait until he finishes talking to strike. Even if Wu

Changtian has quickly moved to avoid it, he is still hit in the chest by
a gust of frosty spiritual energy. Feeling like half of his body has
frozen, he staggers back and crashes into the carriage.

Cheng Qian coldly sweeps his gaze across him. “Who is your
Daoyu?”

“You!” The young sword cultivator angrily draws his sword and
prepares to charge forward.
There is a loud clang from Shuang Ren in Cheng Qian’s hand. “You
want to fight? This Cheng Qian is ready to grant you that wish.”

Hearing the casually tossed out name, Wu Changtian immediately

knows who he is. He hastily shouts at his companion. “You Liang,
step back.”

Cheng Qian sweeps his mocking glance across the group dressed in
black like a murder of crows in front of him. A cruel smile breaks out
on his face as he speaks, “You are here because of Han Yuan the
demonic dragon?”

Wu Changtian pushes an unwilling You Liang behind him, then

smiles reconciliatorily. “Indeed, that villain is well on track to become
the Lord of Demons. The demonic cultivators who have been in
hiding all listen to his orders. If our side can’t cooperate, a great
disaster will happen, so…”

Wu Changtian looks at Cheng Qian and sees his mocking gaze. He

is unable to continue.

“Han Yuan the demonic dragon.” Cheng Qian quietly repeats then
smiles, “Official Wu, do you know why he fell into the demonic
path?”

Wu Changtian is unable to reply.

“The reason is, when he was a teenager, his mind was controlled by
the ‘soul drawing’ spell of your senior at the Celestial Divination
Bureau Zhou Hanzheng. Do you know what karmic retribution
means?” Cheng Qian says in a very low voice, as if in dealing with
these people, he doesn’t even want to spend his effort talking. “Sir
Official, what did you just say? Your side?”
His voice suddenly turns frosty as Shuang Ren is drawn from its
sheath with a flash. The sword energy strikes out like a tidal wave,
which leaves a long mark on the ground. The cultivators of Celestial
Divination Bureau standing nearby are all hit by this attack. Both
humans and carriage fall into a messy heap.

Cheng Qian’s gaze is even colder than the sword’s flare. “Take your
dogs and scram! If you dare cross this line, pray that your next life
will be better than this one.”

At that moment, the gate of the estate opens from the inside with a
loud creak. Assuming the manners of a well-bred young lady, Puddle
walks out and delicately salutes the people outside. “Third Brother,
our sect leader and senior brother says you should come in quickly
and stop causing trouble. Gentlemen, our sect leader has been in
seclusion recently. He can’t receive guests. Please forgive us. Have
a safe trip back.”

It is obvious that Puddle isn’t used to this kind of talk. She was a wild
child that flew everywhere as she wished. It doesn’t fit her at all,
having to imitate the flowery manners of society. A thought flashes
by Cheng Qian’s head and makes him sigh.

Not only their sect’s fortune has been downhill, they are always at
the center of the storm.

Winking to make a signal to Puddle, he arrogantly turns his back to

the group outside, seals off the gate of Fuyao Estate, and strides
inside.

Puddle breathes out in relief. She runs after him and rambles. “Third
brother, why are you back so fast? Have you found a way to help our
most senior brother wake up? Listen, a few days ago, the mark of
the heart demon on his forehead became shorter for some reason.
What do you think? Is that a good sign?”

Cheng Qian simply nods and says, “Hmm, I have to be in seclusion

for about one hundred days. It’s best to stop those people from
disturbing us.”

“Okay, I’ll go tell Second Brother. He always has lots of ideas,”

Puddle nods repeatedly. Then, as if remembering something, she
says, “Oh, Third Brother, you don’t know this yet. It seems our most
senior brother can hear us!”

Cheng Qian pauses his steps.

Puddle cheerfully continues, “What do you think? Will it help if I chat

with him regularly? Hey, Third Brother, what’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian can’t help recalling how he and Tang Zhen talked
without watching their words by Yan Zhengming’s bed. He suddenly
feels awkward. Avoiding Puddle’s eyes, he covers his mouth with his
hand and pretends to cough. “Nothing.”

At the same time, Cheng Qian turns things over in his mind. Their
most senior brother has never been the academic type. Sitting
through their Master’s lectures has caused him to feel sleepy just
from seeing the written words. Besides their sect’s scriptures and
cultivation methods, he never touches any book. He… won’t have
some strange thoughts?

Under Puddle’s surprised gaze, the person who has just wrought
terror with Shuang Ren suddenly becomes embarrassed and runs
off like there was fire under his feet.

The next day, as if angered by the Celestial Divination Bureau’s non-

stop harassment, the defensive array of Fuyao Estate completely
changes. Something full of aggression has been added into the ‘eye’
of the defensive array, which causes the formerly calm array to
emanate a cruel killing aura. The intent is clear: no one in thousands
of miles around is welcome inside.

All of the servants in the outer quarters of the estate have been sent
away. Being hung high in the building, Shuang Ren is indeed the
‘eye’ of this defensive array.

Li Yun wipes his sweats, then salutes Tang Zhen next to him. “Tang-
xiong, it’s all thanks to your guidance. You have our gratitude.”

“Daoyu, no need to be on ceremony. All I did was just rambling,”

Tang Zhen glances at the bright blade of Shuang Ren and comments
with emotions, “The Sword of Terrible Deaths. Perhaps only
someone like your esteemed junior brother can control this killer
weapon.”

Li Yun clasps his hands and vents, “It’s a great worry of mine that he
is overly stubborn. Those who act too tough usually end up being
brittle.”

Tang Zhen smiles, “Daoyu, you’re thinking too much. A cultivator has
to struggle against the Heavens to shape their fate. Those who
aren’t stubborn usually can’t get far. Wouldn’t his temperament, one
who refuses to give up until the very last moment, be better?”

The worry on Li Yun’s face deepens as he speaks, “Cultivation is just

a minor thing. What I fear is… In case things don’t work out as we
wish and something happens to our most senior brother. Would
Xiao-Qian…”

Hearing that, Tang Zhen raises his eyebrow a little.

Would he what?
However, Li Yun swallows the rest of the line.

As if he just realises that he is talking to Tang Zhen, Li Yun hastily

acts like he lost his concentration, and makes a salute. “Oh, I’ve
been talking too much again. Tang-xiong, it’s just trivial affairs of our
sect. I won’t bother you with that anymore.”

Tang Zhen says, “It’s no problem. It’s just that, our young Cheng-
Daoyu suddenly goes into seclusion without any explanation. I’ve no
idea what he is planning. Daoyu, do you think he overestimates his
strength and intends to make a sword himself? If he is unsuccessful,
Sect Leader Yan won’t last much longer. In that case, Daoyu, what
will you do?”

Seemingly without any calculation, Li Yun shows Tang Zhen the face
of a truly helpless weakling. Fear written all over his expression, he
smiles ruefully, “About that, I don’t know. To be honest, our sect
leader and senior brother is like our spine. If the spine breaks, we
will… Alas, we must look like a joke to you, Tang-xiong.”

Tang Zhen looks closely at him for a moment. His impression is that,
among members of Fuyao Sect, Li Yun is indeed the weakest link if
they really have to fight. However, this person’s mind is like a rat’s
nest, full of turns and watching eyes. He is both suspicious and
clever. They have talked for a good while, but neither side detects a
single honest word from the other.

At that moment, Cheng Qian returns to the second Qing An Abode in

the middle of the bamboo grove for his seclusion. He is holding in his
hand a regular wooden sword of average size. The sword is very
light, its wooden veins are gentle and pretty, without any aggression.

Cheng Qian stands by one end of Yan Zhengming’s bed. Recalling

Puddle’s words that ‘he can hear us’, he feels that he should say
something to him. However, as he goes through the many things he
wants to say, he feels that most of them aren’t appropriate.

Seeing that there is a strand of hair on Yan Zhengming’s face,

Cheng Qian instinctively raises his hand to brush it to the side. As he
wonders if Yan Zhengming can feel it too, his hand pauses in the air.
After a long while, he still dares not make the gesture.

In the end, he assumes a business-like tone, unaware that it sounds

even more awkward than normal. “Senior brother, Puddle said you
could hear us, so I’ll keep it short. In the next few days, it’s likely I’ll
have to send my awareness into your mind and sword energy
reserve. It’ll probably be uncomfortable. Please do your best not to
hinder me. Give me space to work. It’ll be cold, but staying alive is
more important. Do you hear me?”

Having let it out all in one go, Cheng Qian feels like he has just
accomplished an important mission. Placing the wooden sword on
his knees, he calms himself and enters meditation.

Fuyao Estate has only a few regulars. Yan Zhengming can tell who
comes just with the sound of the door opening and footsteps.

Since Cheng Qian finally returns after disappearing for a long while,
Yan Zhengming is figuratively tearing his own hair out in his
impatience to know where Cheng Qian went. Unfortunately, all he
gets for his waiting in the inside of his mind is only a chilly order.
Taking advantage of every opportunity, the demon of the heart
gathers itself and takes up a variety of Cheng Qian’s appearances,
but it is all chased away by Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit.

The primordial spirit that was requested to ‘stay out of the way when
the time comes’ mournfully thinks. “What kind of asshole junior
brother is this?!”
At that moment, Yan Zhengming’s sharp senses realise that his body
is being surrounded by a very familiar sword will. He can realise
what it is even with his eyes closed.

Fuyao Wooden Sword?

What on earth is Xiao-Qian planning again?

Cheng Qian can concentrate his mind very fast. He pushes aside all
of the earlier distractions and lets his awareness sink into his own
mind.

As if energised by something, the wooden sword on his knees slowly

flies up in the air above Cheng Qian’s head. A faint light emanates
from the ordinary wood of the sword.

Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit in his own mind holds a sword formed
by his will. Imitating how Muchun Zhenren taught them swordplay
back then, he very slowly goes through the first form “The roc travels
ten thousand miles”. Just like in the past, the sword will is gradually
created in response to his sentiments.

Cheng Qian moves according to the first form time and time again,
as he opens up his recollections to find his state of mind when he
first learnt swordplay.

Having just joined the sect, he was accidentally carried off by

Puddle, who didn’t understand human speech, to the clouds over the
mountains. From high above, he could see the countless relics on
the mountains and hear the voice of his forefathers through the
countless years. His heart unconsciously expanded, which fit the title
of “Fuyao”. Thus, he entered the Tao. Like a curious child dazzled by
the fantastical, ever-changing scenery in front of him, he held the
naive ambition of knowing more and more, beyond what he could
understand.

After who knows how many days, the movements of Cheng Qian’s
primordial spirit through the form “The roc travels ten thousand
miles” keep getting faster. Swayed by Cheng Qian’s state of mind,
his primordial spirit suddenly takes the appearance from his teenage
years.

The sword will of this form has been created!

However, a “sword” has its spirit, and the sword will is invisible.
These two elements have no vessel. How can they be bound to the
wooden sword?

On his way back, Cheng Qian already carefully considered this

issue. Living up to what other people expect of him, this asshole
came up with an incredibly brutish method.

As his primordial spirit moves like an eagle along with the sword in
his primordial spirit, the sword will of the form “The roc travels ten
thousand miles” has been fully received by his spirit. In a blink of the
eyes, an aggressive gust of spiritual energy rises inside Cheng
Qian’s mind. It flies straight to his primordial spirit and slashes at
both the primordial spirit and the sword.

The sword will that is still a part of Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit is
cut off together with part of his primordial spirit. He pushes it into the
wooden sword above him. One end of the wooden sword lights up
as if given life.

However, how can it be a trivial thing to cut off one’s primordial spirit,
no matter how small that part is?
Pain floods Cheng Qian’s mind and awareness. He recklessly
swallows down a groan. A mouthful of blood rises to his throat but is
pushed down.

Without any rest, Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit once again creates a
sword and begins the form “Seek and pursue”.

Afterwards, it’s “Not according to wish” then “Decline from the peak”.
Five years in which they bore all kinds of humiliation on Azure
Dragon Island. The coin buried deep in the ground. The demonic
dragon that met his eyes across the whole sky. Gu Yanxue whose
body and soul both perished. Tong Ru who has been rotting
alongside the forest...

He quickly goes through all eighty one parts. For the final ‘Return to
Trueness’ form, Cheng Qian can’t help but choose the ‘Dried wood
meets spring’ move. The sword will from his mind flies through the
spiritual energy base and enters the wooden sword, which is shining
so brightly it dazzles the eyes.

Alongside the fresh spring flowers, all living beings wake up again
from the deep snow of winter to start another year of growing.

Unfortunately, that flush of life is only a flash. Right away, Cheng

Qian’s suicidal action of cutting off his own primordial spirit without a
care meets its retribution. The wooden sword in the air suddenly
loses its support and falls down, as he coughs out a mouthful of
blood that chokes his throat. The blood splashes on the wooden
sword.

The flowers and plants that were placed in an effort to create some
elegance in the second Qingan Abode all wilt in a blink of an eye.

In the place where all lives terminate, the sword is formed.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 77

Thanks a lot as usual to MrMissMrsRandom!

*******
Meanwhile, inside Yan Zhengming’s mind, the heart demons that
haunt him are all warded off by Cheng Qian’s awkward instruction.
All they can do is to float away from Yan Zhengming’s primordial
spirit. However, the raging sword energy in his mind won’t calm
down. It keeps gathering in one place, pulled by the invisible force of
its owner’s spirit, but just a moment later, its binding will break and
the energy will disperse messily.

Only Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit sits unmoving in an upright

posture inside of his mind, ignoring the many blades that pierce him
time and time again.

The backlashing sword energy and the owner of the mind struggle in
silence for a long time. The expression of Yan Zhengming’s
primordial spirit is completely calm, as if nothing in this world could
shake him anymore.

Afterall, a sword cultivator is someone who uses their own being as

a weapon. Wouldn’t they have to be forged with countless pains and
trials, even if that means they have to find a way back to life in the
realm of death?

However, the struggle is disturbed by a bout of coughing. The person

who coughs sounds like he would lose his breath. From that, it is
clear that he is in trouble. In the past days, Cheng Qian doesn’t
make a sound. Had it not been for the faint sword will that lingers
around, Yan Zhengming would think that he is no longer there.

Hearing a sudden sound from Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming is

shaken. His mind, which has been utterly serene for a long while, is
disturbed by worry. As the calmness is broken, the seemingly
subdued demon of the heart stirs up trouble again.

Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit springs up and forms a sword in

hand. In the beginning, he only pushes aside the miasma of the
heart demon. Eventually, he even recklessly confronts the
increasingly chaotic sword energy. During the calm period, the
backlashing sword energy is already aggressive. In this moment, it is
like a boiling cauldron.

Yan Zhengming’s mind undergoes a great tremor. The cracks

caused by the Dragon Binding Locks are disturbed. However, he
simply cannot suppress the intense desire of his heart, which is to
get out of his inner mind to wake up and have a look at Cheng Qian
at all cost. He knows too well what Cheng Qian is like. This one
refuses to bend to any force. He doesn’t know what slowing down
and taking a detour is either. Whenever there is an obstacle, he
would definitely take the most drastic life-or-death measure.

At that moment, two chilly fingers touch his eyebrows, as if to open

the way for a gust of frosty spiritual energy. Within seconds, the
cracks caused by the Dragon Binding Locks are frozen over. Cheng
Qian’s voice, which is slightly hoarse, flies into his ears.

“Focus.”

Yan Zhengming grinds his teeth. “What have you been up to?”
Cheng Qian replies blandly. “Done with the sword. Got too excited
and choked a bit.”

It doesn’t sound like a recent excitement at all.

Right after that, as if to complain that Yan Zhengming talks too

much, that icy awareness floods his mind without any warning.
Cheng Qian, who has only one mode that is reckless brute force,
isn’t really good at healing other people. Yan Zhengming fears he will
get hurt, so he dares not obstruct the process. Additionally, he has to
do his best to take on himself all of the backlashing sword energy.
Thus, he learns for once in his life what ‘being ripped apart by
countless blades’ truly is like.

Then, a sphere of gentle sword energy, which is a total contrast to

the frosty aura from Cheng Qian’s awareness, cautiously enters Yan
Zhengming’s inner mind. Within seconds, the sword will soundlessly
separates from Cheng Qian’s awareness and spreads across the
entirely of Yan Zhengming’s inner mind. The raging sword energy
immediately ignores Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit. It transforms
into countless blades and charges at the intruder.

Yan Zhengming is startled, but Cheng Qian calmly says, “No

problem. You should stand aside.”

As soon as he says it, a ray of sword will that is identical to the

intruder appears in Yan Zhengming’s inner mind. It is very delicate
but unpredictable and totally different from ordinary blades. In
addition, its presence is everywhere.

That is none other than the primordial sword he saw when he

entered the Tao!
No matter if it’s a great fire or frost, nothing can eliminate the tiny
grass and the gentle breeze that comes and goes in the prairie, as
long as the first seed brought by the wind lands on the ground.

That wooden sword invokes every mindset conveyed by the Fuyao

Wooden Sword. Yan Zhengming instinctively follows every
movement of the wooden sword, which has no blade but contains
everything. He freezes for the moment, as the reflections of
centuries flash in front of his eyes.

In that blink of an eye, the primordial sword will meets the wooden
sword. A strong light shines on the heavily injured primordial spirit of
Yan Zhengming.

All of natural energy in Fuyao Estate floods into the new Qing An
Abode in the middle of the bamboo grove like water from rivers
gathering in the sea. The building and furniture shake, as the
trembling yellow bamboo leaves are once more full of life.

Tang Zhen is the first to reach the bamboo grove, then come Puddle
and Li Yun. Because Puddle runs too fast, she nearly crashes into
the bamboo grove. Tang Zhen raises his arm to stop her. “Miss, be
careful. We can’t get in there yet.”

Hearing that, Puddle is startled to realise that her strand of hair

which flies in front of her has been sliced off.

The place that is full to the brim with the energy of life hides an
overwhelming sword wind.

In Yan Zhengming’s inner mind, an ordinary wooden sword pierces

through the sea of sword energy and directly enters the center of the
inner mind like the divine Sea Calming Needle. A tornado rises and
pulls into it the backlashing sword energy. Within seconds, the many
blades formed from spiritual energy have been vanquished by the
wooden sword and fall down.

In the blazing light of the sword, Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit

takes back control of his inner mind. All disturbances have died
down, but he is still immersed in the overwhelming sword will.

All of the razor-like sword energy that spills outside is neatly

gathered in his hand. The endless aggression in his heart suddenly
transforms into calmness, as a thread of the will from Sea Tide
Sword mixes in the Fuyao Wooden Sword.

He feels as if he were under the bottom of the sea, with bottomless

abyss surrounding him and waves that reach the sky over his head.
Raging storms are in his sleeves, but no sound is heard.

This is what ‘enter the sheath’ feels like.

From the outside, the formidable-looking prison turns out to be only

effective for the brutes.

Of course Cheng Qian can sense that Yan Zhengming has advanced
to the next level. He decisively withdraws his awareness and lets out
a long sigh, in which exhaustion can be heard.

He has been sitting there for eighty one days. A layer of frost covers
his features, showing that his internal energy has been pushed to the
limit. It is pleasantly warm like spring weather in the new Qing An
Abode, but the spot where he sits is frosty. There are bloodstains on
his chest.

As his primordial spirit has been damaged, he will really need to

spare some time to recover. However, Cheng Qian’s heart is
lightened, as if a great weight has been lifted. His mood is
accordingly relaxed.
It is a price he willingly pays.

Cheng Qian turns to look at Yan Zhengming. The latter hasn’t woken
up yet, but the sickly aura around him has gone away. The cinnabar-
coloured mark of the heart demon on his forehead has faded so
much that one cannot easily see it anymore. All that is left is the pure
sword flare that flashes once then makes way for total serenity.
There is no sign of the earlier terrifying power from a sword cultivator
that reaches ‘enter the sheath’ level.

It is hard to believe that Cheng Qian’s wild idea of using the wooden
sword as the base can become reality. Even if he has absolute
confidence in himself, he can’t help the faint smile on his lips.

A second later, the exhaustion due to the damage his primordial

spirit suffered washes over him without any warning. Cheng Qian
hastily supports himself with his arm and unceremoniously lies down.
That tiny smile of pride turns woeful.

Li Yun’s voice flies in from the outside, tinged with worry, “Xiao-Qian,
how is it going in there?”

“No problem,” Cheng Qian hastens to take a few deep breaths, and
tries his best to steady his voice. He blandly replies as if nothing
happened. “Wait a bit. I need to tidy myself.”

As his voice sounds normal, Li Yun finally calms down. He even

manages to crack a joke to other people around him.

He tells Puddle, “When those two emerge, I’ll leave everything and
go into seclusion. I have to worry about all kinds of trivial stuff all the
time. With my low cultivation, I’m about to get wrinkles.”

Tang Zhen keeps a distance from them. As there is still a faint trace
of the unusual sword will in the bamboo grove, he catches a small
bamboo leaf and wipes away the morning dew on it. Several
expressions pass by his face, which then settles on an indescribable
note as he says, “To create wonder out of nothing, this is indeed a
feat worthy of the person who faces heavenly tribulations without
fear.”

Cheng Qian doesn’t feel as comfortable as what he lets appear on

his face. Because he can’t make Li Yun and the others wait forever,
he forces himself to stand up and quickly changes out of the tattered
clothes. Then he signs a spell with some difficulty and destroys all
evidence by turning those bloodstained clothes into dust, and
cleverly burns some incense to make it look more natural. Having
done all that, he finally wipes the cold sweats on his face and heals
himself for a few seconds before opening the door to meet the
others.

After perfunctorily answering everyone’s questions and

interrogations, Cheng Qian truly runs out of energy. He collapses
onto the small divan nearby and falls into a death-like sleep before
his head meets the pillow.

At that moment, because he is also a cultivator of the sword, You

Liang, who is staying at a small town about thirty miles away from
Fuyao Estate, feels keenly an indescribably powerful sword will that
stays above Fuyao Estate.

As You Liang has just formed his primordial spirit, he can’t yet
recognise how powerful someone who has reached ‘divine realm’
level is. All he feels, keenly, is that he is shaking, from the desire to
fight.

When it comes to sword cultivators, ninety nine out of one hundred

are warlike. The more powerful and experienced their opponent is,
the more eager they are to fight. Weapons in hand, they bet their
lives against the most impossible odds, as improvement only comes
from the most deadly situations. Naturally, there is always an
exception. Yan Zhengming, who has managed the thousand-year
rare feat of reaching the ‘divine realm’ level, is that odd one out. He
wasn’t born with a love for fighting. From the day he was guided into
the Tao by the sword, all of his cultivation effort is simply to do what
he has to do.

You Liang jumps on the roof of the inn and fixes his gaze on the aura
of ‘divine realm’ power. The impatient desire to test himself fills his
youthful eyes. However, there is a light cough behind his back. He
reluctantly turns and sees Wu Changtian slowly approach him. He
annoyedly says, “Senior brother.”

Wu Changtian wordlessly looks in the direction of Fuyao Estate.

You Liang says, full of feelings, “I hope someday I’ll have the chance
to battle against someone like that.”

Wu Changtian glances at him. After a beat, he sighs, “Xiao-Liang,

after we are done with the demonic dragon, you should request to go
into seclusion for three hundred years then leave the Celestial
Divination Bureau.”

There are too many secrets held in the Celestial Divination Bureau. If
a member wishes to leave, they must go into seclusion for three
hundred years so that the secrets expire, before they are free to go.

You Liang is at a loss. “Senior Brother…”

Wu Changtian says in a low voice, “Besides you, Celestial Divination

Bureau has no other sword cultivator. The path of the sword is very
thorny. You need a firmer heart and desire to progress than
practitioners of other paths. There are too many distractions in
Celestial Divination Bureau. It isn’t a good place for you to cultivate.
The Heavens granted you a rare gift. You must not waste it.”

You Liang frowns and argues, “It can’t be that serious. Look at Yan
Zhengming. He is the sect leader of Fuyao Sect, but he still
manages to enter the ‘divine realm’ despite all the daily affairs he
has to deal with!”

“You only see his glory on the surface, but not the hardship
underneath,” Wu Changtian shakes his head. His junior brother has
been cultivating for barely a hundred years. His willingness to seek
improvement in his path is firm, but he is still naive to the ways of the
world. Wu Changtian turns and fixes his gaze at the endless
darkness. As no sound can be heard around them, he says
concisely, “For a ground snake to become a dragon, even if it’s via
the demonic path, he still needs Heavens’ Will to succeed. For a
realm to have two ‘true dragons’, what do you think that Will is?”

You Liang is terrified. “S-senior brother, you… you should watch your
words.”

“There are many sects in this world, but when it comes to history, no
one can match our Celestial Divination Bureau,” Wu Changtian
smiles coldly, “Everyone thinks the ‘Celestial Divination Bureau’ was
established by the Founder of the current Dynasty. They don’t know
that the Celestial Divination sect had been passed down for
hundreds of generations. We enter the Tao not for immortality but to
prevent the powerful cultivators from doing harm to mortals. Even if
the rulers of this realm change, our purpose remains the same.
However, the Founder of the current Dynasty used our name and
pushed us to the frontlines, then recruited many rogue cultivators
with unclear history. Back then, I already disagreed with that, but our
sect leader stubbornly stuck with that plan. He said that an official
position would be better for our work, and that we shouldn’t think
ourselves above mortals just because we had some cultivation. Then
he put his trust in the likes of Zhou Hanzheng, who had neither
ethics nor morals. Hah, now we end up as goons for the Emperor!”

You Liang confusedly asks, “Senior Brother, if changes of dynasty

aren’t your business, then why do we have to do everything to stop
that demonic dragon?”

“Have you thrown everything you learned to the dogs? Don’t you
know that ‘Strong wind can’t last a whole morning, heavy rain can’t
pour a whole day’?” Wu Changtian sighs, “Throughout history, have
you ever seen a demonic cult that lasts a long time? They are of
course powerful, but their fall comes as fast as their rise. In any
case, those demonic cultivators obviously don’t care about the
collateral damage of what they do. They don’t necessarily want the
realm, they just want to cause trouble. Of course we can’t let them
get away with that.”

The sword will above Fuyao Estate gradually fades. It must be

gradually withdrawn by that extraordinary sword cultivator.
Something stirs in Wu Changtian’s eyes. It is awhile before he
speaks again in a low voice, “Back then, the slayer of demons fell
into the demonic path. In the present, the defenders of the Way have
lost their way. Celestial Divination sect and Fuyao Sect, both sides
have fallen. It is indeed… Well, I think their sect leader will come out
of seclusion in just a few days. Let’s pay them another visit then.”

Yan Zhengming has to meditate in the realm of ‘enter the sheath’ for
one day and one night, in order for him to calm the backlashing
sword energy. The injuries caused by the Dragon Binding Locks in
his inner mind become negligible. As his energy base is free again,
he recovers in just a short while. He examines himself and sees that
even the heart demon has been significantly subdued.

The problem is, once it has emerged, the demon of the heart is hard
to get rid of. The more he pays attention to it, the more it haunts his
heart. Perhaps it’s better to just go with the flow.

Yan Zhengming finally opens his eyes. Rubbing his forehead, he

feels that as he advances to the next level, he can take things more
easily. He thinks that with his personal qualities, he may not become
the most powerful sword cultivator in history, but it isn’t bad to be the
most easy-going one.

There is still the matter of the sword Cheng Qian brought into his
inner mind. Although their swordplay all has the same origin that is
the Fuyao Wooden Sword, they understand it differently because of
their different personalities. Even the same person may have
different perspectives on it when their circumstances change.

In Cheng Qian’s case, although he entered the cultivation path with

Fuyao Wooden Sword, he has come to lean more on Sea Tide
Sword. The two styles are completely different, each has its own
unique philosophy and strengths. However, the more advanced they
are, the more they find that the two styles can complement each
other very well. When Yan Zhengming sheathed his sword, he
worked along with the sword will of the great sea tide. Had it not
been for it, he couldn’t withdraw the sword energy so quickly.

There is also...

Perhaps it’s Yan Zhengming’s delusion, but he keeps having the

feeling that there is a part of Cheng Qian inside the wooden sword.
Although the sword will is purely of Fuyao Wooden Sword, it is
surrounded by an indescribable frost-like aura. It is not a part of the
surrounding sword energy, but at the same time, it is not a hostile
alien. The wooden sword stands upright in Yan Zhengming’s inner
mind like a faithful guard. It doesn’t go anywhere, but doesn’t
integrate with the surrounding either.

Yan Zhengming takes a deep breath and detects a trace of pleasant

mind-calming incense. The incense has been burnt through without
being replaced. As the windows of the room are wide open, the
scent that remains in the room is very faint. He stretches himself and
stands up with the intention to burn more incense. It isn’t until then
that he sees Cheng Qian sleeping on the nearby divan.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

As if scared, he immediately withdraws the leg he has just stretched

out. He stands there for a while before cautiously tiptoeing in that
direction like a burglar, where he finds out that Cheng Qian is
sleeping.

It must have been tough to forge that Fuyao wooden sword.

Otherwise, Yan Zhengming can’t imagine what can make someone
with Cheng Qian’s cultivation so exhausted to the point of sleeping
so deeply.

Cheng Qian’s body was forged from the Spirit Collection Jade. When
he sleeps, he doesn’t make any sound, as if he were just furniture in
the room. At first, Yan Zhengming tiptoes near him. After a couple of
steps, he straightens his back, feeling that this kind of shady
behaviour like a rat stealing food isn’t something appropriate for a
sect leader like him.

Yan Zhengming intentionally causes a few small noises, as he walks

directly in front of Cheng Qian. However, Cheng Qian doesn’t even
stir.
Yan Zhengming bends down and looks closely at Cheng Qian’s
sleeping face. As the distance between them shortens, the
overwhelming desire to kiss Cheng Qian’s forehead suddenly rises
in his heart.

In the end, he manages to control himself and steps back.

Yan Zhengming feels that he can’t do the deed, because there is an

indescribable innocence on the sleeping Cheng Qian’s face.

Yan Zhengming smiles ruefully and lightly touches Cheng Qian’s

head. “‘No matter if it’s to the Heavens or the Underworld’. How
could you say that so carelessly? Do you even understand what that
means? Watch your words a little, don’t you?”

Perhaps in all Three Realms, only someone so extraordinarily

unobservant like Sect Leader Yan can find Cheng Qian ‘innocent’.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 78

Sorry for the increasingly late update! And thank you as usual to
MrMrsMissRandom, editor extraordinaire!

*******
Cheng Qian is someone who is unwilling to pause and relax even for
a second. He hasn’t had such a long sleep for who knows how many
years, in which he even has a storied dream. In that dream, he isn’t
a powerful cultivator who can control the elements and face lightning
from the Heavens, but only a poor scholar from a humble origin. He
is so poor that he is unwilling to throw away damp writing paper but
dry it under the sunlight. He also licks the bone-dry brush to make
use of the remaining ink, which tastes slightly bitter. There is so little
work for him to do that he feels desperate.

Ah yes, he also has a wife dressed in rough homemade clothes, who

complains non-stop that he lives too messily or doesn’t bother to
change his clothes. That spouse of his leans on the threshold.
Picking up his cup of tea, that person scolds, “You’re so poor that
you save the dredge of your tea.”

Cheng Qian replies without bothering to look up. “Won’t that make
me a good match for the shrill woman who is leaning on that
threshold?”

“Shrill woman?” That person chuckles. “Why don’t you have another
look and see who I am?”
Cheng Qian confusedly looks up. The sight that slams into his eyes
is an arrogant young master dressed in white. That person looks at
him with a vague smile. His peach-blossom eyes are full of an
indescribable allure.

Cheng Qian’s heart quickens. He wakes up in a second, but still

feels like he is in a dream.

He stares in a daze for a long while. What he sees is the bright

moonlight outside the window and the distant stars. There is a cool
aura like autumn dews in the room. His body is covered by a thin
blanket. For a moment, he has the illusion that he returned to that
mortal life again.

Yan Zhengming is sitting by the door with his back to Cheng Qian.
Using a bamboo leaf as a flute, he plays a severely out-of-tune
melody, which disturbs the peace around him.

Cheng Qian is rudely roused from his dream-like reverie by his

senior brother’s unique leaf flute performance. As the desire to throw
the incense burner at Yan Zhengming’s head completely washes
away all feeling of attraction in the dream, he can’t help coughing
pointedly and saying, “Why don’t you go back to your room and play
there?”

Yan Zhengming’s maddening leaf flute melody completely

extinguishes. Without turning back, he says in a calm tone, “I’ve
been playing here for three days already. The insects in the grove
have likely all taken their families and run away. Only you don’t see
or hear anything.”

Then he turns over. His face is utterly blank like a still lake, his eyes
are like deep wells filled with the darkness of the night, his voice is
like a banked flame, as he says, “Forget cultivators who have formed
their primordial spirits, even mortals don’t sleep like death as you
did. What is actually in that wooden sword?”

Cheng Qian replies without blinking, “There is sword will in it.”

Yan Zhengming’s eyes twitch. “Stop talking nonsense. You think I

can’t find out by myself? There is obviously a spiritual awareness in
that wooden sword!”

Cheng Qian’s mind has been still lagging after waking up. Hearing
that, he is completely wide awake out of fear.

The sword will in the wooden sword is none other than a part of his
primordial spirit. He can’t be found out so soon? However, he has
been unconscious in the past days. There is no way that spiritual
awareness is stirred up. Can his senior brother be so sharp?

He stares fixedly at Yan Zhengming for a moment, wondering if he is

being duped. He calmly wrinkles his eyebrows and says, “Of course
there is a spiritual awareness in the wooden sword. The sword will of
Fuyao Wooden Sword is like a living being in itself.”

Cheng Qian’s guess is on the money. Yan Zhengming is really just

trying to trick him.

Yan Zhengming quickly realises from this line of Cheng Qian’s that
he won’t be able to dig up anything else. He angrily turns around,
presses Cheng Qian’s shoulder, and lifts his chin up. Cheng Qian’s
lips are blanched. He still looks tired even with a three-day sleep. It
is obvious that he is suffering from some internal injury.

Yan Zhengming smiles coldly. “Even if you refuse to say anything,

can I not investigate by myself?”
As soon as those words are spoken, Cheng Qian feels a gust of
spiritual energy enter his meridians from the major acupoint Jian
Jing1. Because his primordial spirit is damaged, all of his spiritual
energy has been gathering in his inner mind to fix the injury. He is
caught off guard, so he is completely unable to stop the intruding
energy.

As that spiritual energy ray charges into his body, Cheng Qian
cleverly groans quietly, then bends his body, as if he is in great pain.
He has never been so smart in his whole life.

Someone like Cheng Qian wouldn’t bat an eye even if the world
were falling apart. Ever since his childhood, he has been a stubborn
asshole, who would swallow his blood in when his teeth are broken
in a fight. As he very rarely shows that he is in pain, the act is
especially effective. Even if his performance is quite stiff and lacking
in many aspects, it is more than enough for Yan Zhengming, who
has a talent for imagining the worst.

Sect Leader Yan immediately forgets that he is conducting an

interrogation. His face pale from fear, he immediately extinguishes
the energy ray and gathers Cheng Qian into his arms, then
stammers, “What’s wrong? Did I overdo it? Uh… I…”

Thus, Cheng Qian discovers a new trick to deal with his senior
brother, which is effective far beyond his expectation. Though
feigning great suffering cannot be used regularly, it can be very
useful in key moments for scaring the other side. Accordingly, he
resolutely frowns and shakes his head without uttering a sword.

Yan Zhengming springs up. “Let me get you some water.”

Cheng Qian takes a peek. Picking the right timing, he makes his
voice stuck in his throat and says timidly, “What actually happened
was, I went to the Valley of No Sorrow and met a piece of our
Master’s soul there.”

Yan Zhengming is at a loss.

“It was our Master who suggested the method of using the wooden
sword as the container for the sword will,” Cheng Qian goes with the
flow and says without any shame. Their Master is dead anyway.
There is no witness to counter his words. “It wasn’t my own idea.”

Yan Zhengming is nearly drowned in his guilt, such that he dares not
even look at Cheng Qian’s face. At that moment, even if Cheng Qian
claimed that the moon was square, his heart would make him
believe it.

The dignity of Sect Leader Yan is about to go with the dust that is
regularly cleaned out from the second Qing An Abode.

Cheng Qian lets out a sigh in relief, as his most senior brother is
scared off with just a couple of his lines. He feels that he has used
up all of the wit accumulated from his birth for that one instance.

Yan Zhengming diligently uses white silk to clean the tea cups on the
table and prepares to pour the water. Watching his profile, Cheng
Qian is suddenly startled.

Can there be… a link between the piece of primordial spirit that was
cut off and his awareness?

As soon as this thought appears, his awareness suddenly connects

to a strange piece of mind. Cheng Qian’s vision blurs, as he feels
like he is divided into two. A half of him stays unmoving on the divan,
the other seems to be in the wooden sword. Through the serene
sword wind, he can see a trace of faint black energy not far away.
At that moment, the cup in Yan Zhengming’s hand falls onto the
ground with a clang. Cultivators have very sharp senses, that they
can feel someone’s gaze on them. Needless to say, he can feel
someone is snooping in his inner mind. He only doesn’t know the
cause of that.

Cheng Qian quickly realises that he has been too sloppy. He hastily
cuts off the strange connection, while donning a calm face, as if
nothing happened.

Yan Zhengming frowns and clears away the shards on the ground
with a flick of his hand. On full alert, he investigates his
surroundings, but doesn’t find anything. He ends up thinking that it
was just a hallucination from too much tension.

He pours another cup for Cheng Qian and places it by the divan.
After a moment of thinking, he can’t help running his mouth off again.
“Don’t make other people worried like that.”

Cheng Qian watches him, and quietly contemplates the timing for
investigating the heart demon that he refuses to talk about. As Yan
Zhengming meets Cheng Qian’s eyes, his throat suddenly becomes
dry, as his heart becomes a mess in just a second.

He hastily coughs and says in an attempt to cover it up, “You never

give me a moment of quiet. In the worst case scenario, what would I
explain to our Master in the Underworld?”

Cheng Qian thinks to himself, “I? Needing you to speak for me?”

Annoyance rises in his heart, but before he shows it, he hears Yan
Zhengming sighing softly. As a result, he quietly swallows back the
words that are on the tip of his tongue.
Yan Zhengming places a hand behind his back and runs his thumb
over his fingertips. However, the awkwardness keeps lingering on.
He feels that he shouldn’t be so distant to Cheng Qian, but there is
no way he can get closer or touch Cheng Qian a little without his
conscience protesting. In the end, he makes a dry cough and says,
“Heal yourself. I’ll watch over you.”

Having said that, he sits down by the door again. With his mind
being somewhere else, he picks the leaf he threw on the ground,
and forgetting how dirty it is, he places that leaf on his lips.
Nevertheless, even if he forgets his own cleanliness habits, Cheng
Qian remembers very well his ‘heavenly’ music. Feeling that he
would lose his mind if he must hear that sound anymore, Cheng
Qian hastily speaks up, “Don’t play in front of my place!”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

A black insect slowly crawls on the leaf.

At that moment, there is the sound of footsteps from nearby. Yan

Zhengming is startled. As he looks up, he sees Tang Zhen, who is
approaching with a small ceramic jar in his hand.

“Tang-xiong,” Yan Zhengming throws the leaf away and stands up.

“Has my young friend woken up?” Tang Zhen says as he hands over
the ceramic jar. “This body can’t last much longer, so I have to part
with you tomorrow. Thank you very much for your hospitality. These
pills are very good for internal injuries. Please give them to him.”

Yan Zhengming hastens to express his gratitude. Without any word,

Tang Zhen glances at Cheng Qian from a distance. After a neutral
nod, he turns and leaves.
Liu Lang waits for him with a lantern in hand just outside the bamboo
grove. Tang Zhen takes the lantern and says with a sigh, “Besides
extraordinary cultivators of both righteous and demonic paths, Fuyao
Sect sure breeds a lot of romantics.”

Liu Lang’s response is just silence. Tang Zhen laughs softly. Putting
a hand behind his back, he says, “But that’s understandable. The
cultivation life is boring. What else is there for them to do besides
having some feelings?”

He coughs a little during that speech. Liu Lang reminds him, “Senior
Tang, the aura of death on your face is getting worse.”

“Oh,” Tang Zhen wipes the corner of his mouth. “People like you and
me don’t need to get involved so deeply with anyone. It isn’t bad just
to ensure our own survival first. I heard that young Nian Daoyu
wishes to stay and request Sect Leader Yan for him to join Fuyao
Sect. Don’t you too want that too? I keep having to go into seclusion
during my travels, so it’s likely I don’t have enough energy to guide
you in cultivation.”

There is no skin left on Liu Lang’s face, so no expression can be

shown there. He replies calmly, “Senior Tang, I’ll follow you.”

Tang Zhen doesn’t waste anymore time talking. He simply waves his
hand, as if it makes no difference to him whether Liu Lang follows
him or not. He is like a moth that goes with the flow of an unknown
fate. During their talk, the two of them quickly leave Fuyao Estate
and disappear like two shades.

In the early morning of the next day, Yan Zhengming, who is covered
in dew, opens his eyes as if sensing something. He turns and looks
at Cheng Qian. After confirming for himself that Cheng Qian is
alright, he waves his hand to the bamboo grove and calls in their
Second Brother, who is wearing a serious face, “What’s wrong?”

Li Yun replies, “The Celestial Divination Bureau people came again.

When they came the last time when you were still unconscious, I
already turned them away. Looks like they’ve been hanging around
here, and show up again now because they saw you left your
seclusion after making the next step in cultivation.”

“Celestial Divination Bureau?” Yan Zhengming frowns and declares

without thinking, “Just do what Xiao-Qian said and kick them out.”

Li Yun teases, “What if Xiao-Qian told you to marry them?”

Yan Zhenming: “…”

Li Yun sighs, “My Sect Leader, I didn’t know you had the tendency of
a ruler misled by…”

Before Li Yun can say “love”, Yan Zhengming quickly mutters a spell
and shuts his crow’s mouth.

Being blocked from speaking, Li Yun indignantly stares. He feels that

his senior brother is like an evil stepmother and makes his life harder
than that of a neglected orphan, that he is no better than an old
wooden spoon that people leave rotting on the ground without a
care.

Li Yun thinks, full of righteous anger, “I should take Puddle and

leave. We can wander the whole world as beggars!”

Hearing the conversation, Cheng Qian immediately opens his eyes.

“Most senior brother, the last time they came here, you were still in
danger and I was about to enter seclusion to forge the sword, so I
chased them away without any explanation. If they make an effort to
wait all this time, I think we should meet them once. Huh, what’s
wrong with Second Brother?”

Yan Zhengming quickly releases Li Yun from the spell. Li Yun

coughs until his face becomes red. As if finding his strength again,
he yells at Yan Zhangming, “Did you hear that? Did you hear that?!”

Yan Zhengming says, “Just hearing ‘Celestial Divination Bureau’

annoys me. Why should I meet them?”

Cheng Qian hesitates a little, then tells a simplified version of how he

met Tong Ru and Muchun Zhenren in the Valley of No Sorrow. At the
end, he says, “Our disciple grandfather said the one who had tricked
him to enter the Three Lives mystic site had ‘met their retribution’.
Though he didn’t say it out loud, I feel he implied the Celestial
Divination Bureau. What has been going on inside there must be
much more complicated than what first appeared.”

Having heard the full story, Li Yun can’t help frowning. “A million
lives. Did your disciple father say that?”

Cheng Qian asks, “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve been in seclusion a lot, so maybe you don’t know about what
has been happening outside,” Li Yun says, “But from what I know, in
the last two hundred years, there has been no significant disaster,
whether natural or manmade. Even the rebellion of Prince An a few
years ago was much noise but little substance. It didn’t cause that
many deaths. How are we supposed to explain this loss of a million
lives? Can’t it be…”

Cheng Qian’s eyes darken. “The remaining soul of our disciple father
is still imprisoned. The seal over Fuyao Mountain hasn’t been
opened. If what our disciple father wished from that stone is ‘the
restoration of his sect’, that wish hasn’t been fulfilled yet. In other
words, the price of a million lives hasn’t been paid. Will Han…”

Before he can finish his thought, the clear sky suddenly darkens, as
black clouds from all sides gather. The rumble of thunder can be
felt.

Yan Zhengming raises a finger and tells Cheng Qian, “Spare your
words. You must not attempt to uncover Heaven’s Will.”

Cheng Qian’s eyes darken. That means he is on the mark.

After a moment of silence, Yan Zhengming stands up, “Let’s go meet

them.”

“Most senior brother,” Li Yun suddenly calls out to him, “If… Han
Yuan really…”

A bolt of lightning strikes, the flare of which shows how pale Li Yun’s
face is.

Li Yun says, “What will you do?”

Will you protect him despite all of the terrible wrongdoings? Or will
you ignore all brotherly sentiments from our childhood and execute
him according to the sect rules, which are so ancient that they seem
to have a spirit of themselves?

Yan Zhengming pauses. He stands in silence for a long while, as the

wind suddenly blows and makes his sleeves flutter. When he shows
off or acts like a nuisance, he doesn’t look like a sect leader at all.
However, in this moment, tied up in a dilemma, his face is grave just
like his ancestors on Fuyao Mountain in ancient times.

Yan Zhengming doesn’t reply. He just shakes his head and turns to
enter the falling rain.
As a gesture of good will, Wu Chengtian leaves all of his
subordinates outside the estate. Taking only You Liang with him, he
assumes a humble attitude. Puddle pours them tea, then after the
line of ‘Please wait a moment”, she silently moves to one side and
stands there like a statue.

Although she says nothing, Wu Changtian quietly makes his

judgment about her. Of course Wu Changtian can recognise that she
isn’t fully human. Even if her cultivation is still limited, with his
experience, he can still tell that there is a formidable power inside
her, which is being carefully locked down.

Wu Changtian can’t help looking at his neatly cut fingernails. He

thinks about how Fuyao Sect’s lineage was once cut off and
disappeared for more than a century, but their successors hold
immense potential. Even if the sect is besieged with dangers, they
will definitely live on. In contrast, the Celestial Divination sect looks
powerful from the outside, but their inside is so rotten that the
inheritance is unclear.

In the end, which side should be pitied?

At that moment, the sound of footsteps, which is intentionally made

heavy and slow, can be heard. Squeezing his sword, You Liang
raises his head and looks directly at the sword cultivator who has
reached the ‘divine realm’ in front of him.

Yan Zhengming only apathetically glances past him without pausing

in his steps. He slowly walks to the seat for the lord of the
household, then not offering any greeting, he directs his attention to
adjusting his pristine sleeves. After that, he wordlessly looks at
Puddle. Following the script, she primly pours the tea and puts the
cup on the small plate, which was carved with spells, on the table.
With a soft sound, the cup of tea immediately cools down as it
touches the spells, and a thin layer of vapour covers the cup.

It isn’t until then that Yan Zhengming takes a sip of tea. Then tapping
the wooden table with the fan in his hand, he says coolly, “The
Divination Celestial Bureau has never been our friends. For you two
gentlemen to go all the way here, it isn’t unlike a fox that calls on a
coop of chickens. Please go ahead, tell us what you are plotting.”

*******
1. Jian Jing acupoint: the acupoint on the shoulder.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 79

Happy Year of the Rat everyone! As usual, many thanks to

MrMsMrsRandom for editing!

*******

You Liang is paralised with anxiety. All his life, he has never seen a
sword cultivator with this kind of personality. Yet this person has the
highest cultivation level of anyone he has met. You Liang can’t help
but doubt his entire upbringing from childhood. Can it be that the
teaching for sword cultivators to ‘discipline and control oneself’ is all
wrong?

In a blink of an eye, he feels that the sword in his hand isn’t worth
much anymore.

Yan Zhengming doesn’t bother with courtesy as he speaks.

Fortunately, Wu Changtian’s patience is well-honed, so he doesn’t
rise up to the provocation.

Wu Changtian quietly takes out two small and ancient-looking seals

made of stone from his robe. One of the seals is all white without
stain, as if carved from jade. The other one is all black, on which a
sigil in the shape of a tortoise is carved. One can tell without
checking the name where this seal comes from: the Black Tortoise
Hall of the primordial glaciers in the far north.
Yan Zhengming raises his eyebrow. Not bothering to reach out to
receive the seals, he says, “What are those?”

“The two lords of White Tiger Estate and Black Tortoise Hall asked
me to deliver these to you, Sect Leader Yan,” Wu Changtian says,
“According to them, you’ll know what they are for yourselves once
you see them.”

Obviously, these two seals are none other than the passwords for
the ‘Earth’ lock. Yan Zhengming can tell it without even looking.

He puts the cup of tea to one side, then gives a chilly smile as he
says, “Is this your way to bribe me? To be blunt, these seals were
entrusted by my sect to the Four Sages. It’s natural that they return
to us. Who dares to deny me when I claim them?”

Sect Leader Yan’s gaze shows that he may not know how to talk to
people, but he definitely can insult them. As his eyes sweep across
the scene, it can be understood clearly what he means: ‘who asks
you busybodies to interfere in other people’s business?’

In the present, even if the Four Sages have been on the decline,
who would dare to look down on them like that?

This person dares to kill an Elder right in front of Bian Xu’s eyes. Wu
Changtian smiles ruefully, as he thinks that dealing with someone
like that is even more troublesome than dealing with those old
foxes.

“You…” You Liang is on the way to losing his temper, but Wu

Changtian pushes him back down.
“I dare not accept such praise from you, Sect Leader Yan,” Wu
Changtian says nearly timidly, “I just deliver these because I happen
to be on the way here. It’s not something worth mentioning. To
someone like you, wouldn’t it be an insult to talk about ‘favour’ or
‘benefits’, Sect Leader Yan?”

With an arrogant air, Yan Zhengming doesn’t reply. In this respect,

Official Wu is truly clumsy. Sect Leader Yan has been the “Money
Hunting Young Master” for so many years, that there is not much left
of his ‘dignity’. He really welcomes other people to bring him this kind
of insult.

Yan Zhengming picks up the Black Tortoise seal and examines it.
Seeing the words ‘Seal of Bian Xu’ carved on one of its side, he says
in a bland tone, “Fine, what’s your name?”

You Liang’s face becomes white. In contrast, Wu Changtian is in

complete control of himself. He replies, “My family name is Wu, the
first part of my name is Chang, the second is Tian.”

“Ah, so you’re Wu Daoyu,” Yan Zhengming glances from the corner

of his eyes. He suddenly says, “Oh, there is something that has been
bothering me all these years. Wu Daoyu, do you mind explaining it to
me? In your opinion, why did Zhou Hanzheng make the effort to plot
the murder of someone who only laboured for the benefits of other
people like Gu Yanxue?”

On the surface, the battle on Azure Dragon Island looked like a

collaboration of Bai Ji and Tang Yu to drive Gu Yanxue in a corner.
Zhou Hanzheng and his black-clad goons only fanned the flame.
However, when one thinks about it, the role of the Celestial
Divination Bureau must have been substantial. The ‘drawing on soul’
spell that many people on the island were subjected to was a
masterpiece of Zhou Hanzheng.

You Liang’s face is full of confusion. He doesn’t understand what Yan

Zhengming is talking about.

Wu Changtian’s back suddenly stiffens. Tension is all over his face.

Yan Zhengming glances at him with a vague smile. He lightly flicks

the stone seal, making it ring out a soft sound. He turns it over and
over in his hand, idly thinking that he still lacks a finger guard made
of jewels. After a few wriggles of his thumb, he finally says
apathetically, “Of course, you don’t have to say anything if it’s a
secret of the court. It’s been more than a hundred years. I’m getting
out of touch. How many times has the throne changed hands? Does
it still belong to that family?”

As Yan Zhengming thinks Wu Changtian won’t say anything, he

suddenly speaks, “What happened to Gu Yanxue was a suggestion
of Zhou Hanzheng. The order to kill him was signed by the Celestial
Divination Sect Leader himself.”

Yan Zhengming pauses his movement. “Hmm? Wasn’t Zhou

Hanzheng a member of Azure Dragon Island in name? Did those
fools never feel any gratitude for what Lord Gu granted them?”

Wu Changtian says, “It’s because he was the Left Guardian of the

Lecture Hall, that the situation became clear: the Lecture Hall’s
influence among the cultivators in the world had gone out of
control.”

Normally, how many people would have the luck to become disciples
of well-established sects?
The Nine Provinces are vast, but how many cultivators come from
prestigious lineages? The majority of those who take up this path
have to undergo the hardship of working out everything by
themselves. For the rogue cultivators who cannot find a sect, the
Lecture Hall of Azure Dragon Island is their only hope.

“Gu Yanxue ranked first among the Four Sages. His position was at
the peak. In general, cultivators don’t have any regard for the
Emperor or their blood families. After Heaven and Earth comes the
“Teacher”. You should know it yourself the implication of the ‘Teacher
of the World’ title,” At this point, Wu Changtian lets out a sigh. His
face becomes downcast, showing a rather out of place sorrow. “With
just a word from Lord Gu, the cultivators who had received help from
the Lecture Hall would level the entire world for him. It was a highly
dangerous situation. Sect Leader Yan, everything could go wrong
with just a wrinkle of temptation in his heart. Who could let him live?”

Yan Zhengming observes him without saying anything. Wu

Changtian doesn’t avoid the stare. He looks back, as he says calmly,
“Sect Leader Yan, since you asked about this matter, it seems like
you don’t know something related to it. As I already opened my
mouth, there is no point hiding it. The Lecture Hall was originally the
‘Hall of Initiation’, which was founded by your disciple grandfather
Tong Ru together with the Four Sages.”

As soon as these words are spoken, silence reigns over the room.

Yan Zhengming stops all of his provocative, arrogant gestures. In a

corner, Puddle’s eyes are wide. Behind the decorative screen, Li Yun
and Cheng Qian are stunned too.
Cheng Qian immediately remembers what Ji Qianli said to him on
the Immortal Binding Platform. What that geezer said seemed to be
complete nonsense. As it turns out, everything has a hidden
meaning.

Killing intent fills the outer part of the room. Yan Zhengming’s power
is at ‘joining the sheath’ level. It doesn’t manifest in an obvious
manner, yet its oppressive weight is felt even more keenly, as it
swirls above Wu Changtian’s head.

Wu Changtian doesn’t even stir. He continues. “Yes, it was indeed

Tong Ru. Your ears aren’t deceiving you. People think the Three
Lives Mystic Site appears randomly, but it isn’t the case. The key to
open that Mystic Site is the heirloom of our Celestial Divination sect.
If the person who enters it doesn’t have a heart free of desire, they
will fall to it. Indeed, Tong Ru went mad after leaving the Mystic Site.
Ignoring the advice of the Four Sages, he tossed his Sect Leader
seal to his disciple, then climbed the hundred and eight thousand
steps of the Tower of No Regret to take out the Wish Granting
Stone.”

A cracking sound can be heard from Yan Zhengming’s knuckles.

Had it not been for the password to the ‘Earth’ lock, the seal would
be crushed by him already. He says with a chilly smile, “Can’t this
world tolerate a person who wishes to do some good for others?”

Wu Changtian says evenly, “There is no tolerance for powerful

people who can control the elements yet still get involved in worldly
affairs. Sect Leader Yan, you should know well that cultivators are
still human. Even someone like Xu Yingzhi, who pursued purity in the
Vermillion Bird Tower, can you be sure he knows no temptation?
Society is like a bowl of water. The water level may be high or low.
There can be some ripples, but it must not tip to one side. No matter
if it’s mortals or cultivators, balance is needed such that the water
won’t spill out for things to last a long time.”

Wu Changtian tilts the cup of tea in his hand as he speaks, causing

some of the tea to fall outside. Then he gracefully signs a spell with
his finger. The water that spilled out is paused mid-air, then turns into
a wheel of water, which quietly flies back into the cup.

You Liang fearfully cries out, “Senior brother!”

“This is the Celestial Divination sect. We act as the hand that keeps
the world in balance,” Wu Changtian rolls up his sleeve. With a self-
mocking smile, he says, “The secret of the Celestial Divination Sect
has been passed on for hundreds of generations. The one who
reveals that must die. As it turns out, I myself tell you about that. It’s
nothing, Xiao-Liang. In the present, the Celestial Divination sect has
fallen and become a bunch of dogs serving a master. Does it really
matter if I keep the secret or not?”

Compared to his weapon, Sect Leader Yan’s impossible personality

is much more impactful. When he is in a bad mood, even a non-
sentient statue will be annoyed. However, no matter how he acts out,
Wu Changtian’s amicable face remains impenetrable. Still, in this
second, his friendly tone becomes bitter. An indescribable hint of
frost flashes under the warmth of his expression.

Wu Changtian pays no heed to Yan Zhengming’s unwelcoming face

and talks on like a monk in a meditation trance. “A person with a
strong obsession will become more powerful in a shorter time
compared to the average. They are also much more dangerous once
they go mad during cultivation. Tong Ru made a wish to that stone
which spoke to the demons of the heart. The stone demanded him to
pay back with human lives. Tong Ru was a warrior of righteousness,
so how could he kill the innocents indiscriminately, even in his
madness? So, he chose to kill demonic cultivators, who had
committed many evil deeds, as tributes for the stone. Because of
this, he accidentally won the post of Lord Beiming.”

“Unfortunately,” Wu Changtian lets out a strange smile. Yan

Zhengming understands what he is about to say next without him
even speaking.

If a demonic cultivator wants to walk the path to the end and

succeed, they must never spill blood. The karmic stain of blood can
never be washed clean, even if it’s just a drop. Even if the person’s
heart is full of integrity, they’ll inevitably fall into the endless killing
rage. This is something everyone knows.

“In his killing rage, Tong Ru claimed the lives of countless innocent
cultivators and mortals. Having no other choice, the Four Sages had
to work together and deal with their old friend,” At this part, Wu
Changtian lets out a long sigh. “Still, Tong Ru was indeed an
extraordinary genius without match. He was even with all Four
Sages in that battle. It was indeed… In the end, Xu Yingzhi
exchanged his own life and lured Tong Ru into the Valley of No
Sorrow. The Valley of No Sorrow is the place where lost souls of the
world gather. In that place, black is black and white is white. No one
can hide the sins they committed when alive there. Tong Ru’s sin of
killing was deep, so the Valley inevitably punished him, such that he
perished there.”

Those few sketchy descriptions made the listeners feel a chill down
their spine.
Wu Changtian lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Unexpectedly,
Gu Yanxue had short memory. Learning nothing from that battle, he
changed the name of the ‘Hall of Initiation’ to the Lecture Hall and
moved to Azure Dragon Island. If back then the Celestial Divination
Bureau hadn’t arranged for Tong Ru to go mad, the lineage of Fuyao
Sect wouldn’t have been broken. Everyone here would probably still
be peacefully cultivating on Fuyao Mountain. You might not be able
to attain such great achievements you currently have, but you
wouldn’t have had to live an exiled life at Azure Dragon Island. Your
disciple brother wouldn’t have fallen to the ‘soul drawing’ spell of
Zhou Hanzheng. The current great disaster of the demonic dragon
wouldn’t have happened. Well, we Celestial Divination sect don't
avoid the consequences of our own actions. As the Heavens will it,
our lifeline is coming to an end.”

Wu Changtian robs Yan Zhengming of everything he is about to say,

so Sect Leader Yan has nothing left for his reply.

Wu Changtian says, “I still have something else to deliver to you,

Sect Leader Yan.”

He takes out a scroll from his robe and lifts it with both hands in Yan
Zhengming’s direction, saying, “Sect Leader Yan, please have a
look.”

As soon as he opens the scroll, Yan Zhengming feels that something

is wrong. There is a ringing sound in his ears. The Sect Leader seal,
which has been lying quietly on his chest, begins to heat up, as if it is
resonating with this unknown scroll. The starry ‘Heaven’ lock
suddenly appears in front of his eyes. The glitter dots swirl
maniacally and form a huge whirlwind.
The aura of Fuyao Mountain swells up as the scroll slowly opens.
The upper part has only names on it, names of Fuyao Sect Leaders
throughout the ages. The lower part records the cultivation paths
they took. At the end, there is the red stamp of a seal. Yan
Zhengming has never seen the words on that stamp, but he knows
what it says.

He unconsciously blurts out, “Demon Vanquishing Seal…”

At that moment, the silence of the room is broken by the glare of a

sword. All You Liang feels is an overwhelming frostiness all over him.
He instinctively raises his sword to defend himself, but he can’t
move. It is as if he has fallen into an invisible sea of ice, which
freezes everything around him. Even his gaze has become ice. He
has already formed his primordial spirit, but he can’t even lift his arm.

Such power with just one strike!

As soon as he senses that something strange is underfoot, Cheng

Qian immediately flies out from behind the decorative screen. He
places the blade on You Liang’s neck, and angrily thrusts the sheath
at Wu Changtian’s back. His frost-filled killing intent firmly locked
down these two, while vehemently striking at the resonance between
the scroll and the Sect Leader seal.

Under Shuang Ren, You Liang’s arm shakes uncontrollably. Cheng

Qian’s gaze is like the ice lake of Ming Ming Valley. “Daring to bring
something like this to Fuyao Estate, do you want to die?”

Yan Zhengming closes the scroll. With a strange expression, he calls

with a low voice, “Xiao-Qian.”
Cheng Qian’s killing intent subdues a little, as he turns to look at Yan
Zhengming.

Yan Zhengming says, “Release them first.”

Cheng Qian finally lets out a disgruntled ‘hmm’ and withdraws his
killer sword.

Wu Changtian takes a deep breath and quietly moves his spiritual

energy around his body. It takes two rounds of circulation for the
frost on his back to completely dissipate. He clasps his hands and
salutes Cheng Qian politely. “Cheng Zhenren, you have only
cultivated for a hundred years, but you are already at such a level.
How admirable!”

Cheng Qian, who is set out to play the nasty one, replies
immediately, “My ability is not worthy of such admiration. It’s only
enough to kill you.”

Wu Changtian says, “Cheng Zhenren, you misunderstand me. All I

did was to return this object to its original owner. That is the ‘Demon
Vanquishing Scroll’. It originally belonged to Fuyao Sect, and
contains thirty oaths that were signed between the ancestors of our
Celestial Divination sect and your esteemed sect. Sect Leader Yan
should know already whether it’s real or fake.”

Cheng Qian raises his eyebrows.

Wu Changtian says, “Of course, Fuyao Mountain is still sealed off,

and the Fuyao Sect Leader has established a different Fuyao Estate.
Strictly speaking, you aren’t really bound by the oath of ancient
people. There is no need for you to comply with it. However, how
many innocent lives will this battle between the righteous and
demonic sides?”

Wearing a frosty face, Cheng Qian is about to speak, but Yan

Zhengming cuts in first. “The oath has the demon-vanquishing seal,
but it doesn’t require us to be commanded by you. It doesn’t prevent
us from dealing as we see fit with the Celestial Divination Bureau
goons either.”

Wu Changtian says, “You think too highly of us. Sect Leader Yan, if
our side wronged you in any way, feel free to deal with us as you see
fit.”

Yan Zhengming glares. “Official Wu, you sure have a lot of integrity.
May I ask how many people that sect of yours signed this oath with?”

Wu Changtian just smiles without saying anything. Obviously, he

doesn’t want to reveal that.

Yan Zhengming waves his hand, “Han Tan, see our guests off.”

Wu Changtian pulls out an invitation card and places it on the table.

He salutes the host properly, then says politely to Puddle, “Miss, no
need for you to trouble yourself on our account. Please stay here.”

Waiting for them to leave, Li Yun emerges from behind the

decorative screen and asks, “What’s wrong?”

Having said that, he picks up the opened scroll on the table and
quickly goes through it. Staring fixedly at the strange demon-
vanquishing seal at the end, he asks, “Is this really…”
Cheng Qian says, “This bullshit oath was made by the Sect Leaders
of the previous generations. What do we have to do with it? Let’s
throw it in a fire and be done with it.”

“I can’t burn it. The oath is linked to the Sect Leader seal,” Yan
Zhengming’s expression stiffens. “If I don’t comply, it’ll be taken as
me not accepting the Sect Leader seal, and from then on, my
awareness in the Sect Leader seal will be removed…”

Yan Zhengming taps lightly on the end part of the scroll, where his
name is listed as the latest Sect Leader. “Which is the same as me
betraying our sect.”

Li Yun’s mind, which is rich in ways to cheat, quickly comes up with a

solution. He immediately says, “That’s nothing. As the saying goes,
‘even murderers can become Buddhas’. That so-called oath doesn’t
prevent a cultivator from leaving their sect then returning. What can
they do when you take off the Sect Leader Seal, burn this oath, then
come back?”

Yan Zhengming angrily glares at him. “Don’t talk nonsense. Your

petty tricks are always useless for something serious!”

Having said that, he waves his hand. The Heaven lock in the Sect
Leader seal appears in the shape of a giant starry clock. One end of
the lock is pointing at the scroll.

“If all of us turn our back at our Fuyao Sect, the Fuyao lineage will
come to an end, and the Sect Leader seal will definitely self-destruct.
When it comes to that, Fuyao Mountain will never appear again.
What do you think we should do then? Hang ourselves in front of our
Master’s grave?”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 80

Thank you as usual to MrMissMrsRandom for editing!

*******

Everyone is quiet. Puddle picks up the card Wu Changtian left

behind, muttering, “Tai Xing Congress on the fifteenth of the first
month… Most senior brother, what is this for? Are we going?”

Yan Zhenming considers not replying.

Li Yun says, “Celestial Divination Bureau has been travelling day and
night to deliver summon cards everywhere. They obviously want to
let the whole world know about this gathering. If I were Han Yuan, I’d
show up with my side and deal with it once and for all. This is an
arrangement for a battle, isn’t it?”

The demonic cultivators of Nanjiang don’t follow any system or order.

They wreak havoc everywhere and cause terrible hardship to
civilians. The Celestial Divination Bureau doesn’t have enough
power or charisma to unite people. If the two sides just keep fighting
at whims like in the present, peace will never return. The best course
of action is to find an empty place and gather everyone there for a
fight to their heart’s content. Tai Xing is that place.
“If I were Han Yuan, I wouldn’t go to this noisy gathering,” Yan
Zhengming says in a low voice, “I would take advantage of everyone
being in Tai Xing, and go straight to the Capital to kill the Emperor
and destroy the lair of the Celestial Divination Bureau. It’d be more
convenient like that, wouldn’t it?”

Li Yun says, “There’s no way to know if what that Wu guy rambled

was true or not, but I’ve heard some other news. Currently, there is
definitely a conflict within the Celestial Divination Bureau. It looks like
the original core of the Celestial Divination sect wants to separate
from the imperial court. They don’t necessarily care if the Emperor is
dead or alive.”

Then, sorrow clouds Li Yun’s face as he says, “Han Yuan… Oh man,

he must be starting this great fight as a revenge against the Celestial
Divination Bureau. But consequently he will have to bear the
retribution for the damages caused by the Nanjiang demonic
cultivators, won’t he?”

With a grave face, Yan Zhengming turns and says, “Send Zhe Shi a
message that we’d like to find Han Yuan before the Celestial
Divination Bureau.”

Cheng Qian, who has been quiet so far, suddenly speaks up, “I keep
feeling that something is not right.”

Li Yun asks, “What?”

“There is a saying that ‘Compassion and honour emerge when the

Way is lost. Deception appears when there is wit. Filial piety is
formed when there is conflict in the family. Devoted officials become
known when the nation falls in chaos’. The Celestial Divination
Bureau claims to ‘maintain the Way in the name of the Heavens’, but
doesn’t that course of action itself contradict the principle of ‘the Way
lies in following the flows of nature’?” Cheng Qian frowns, “That kind
of attitude is really out of sync with what our Master taught us. I can’t
think of any reason why our Fuyao ancestors would sign this kind of
oath with the Celestial Divination sect. There must be something
else going on. Second Brother, I remember that when we lived on
Azure Dragon Island, we found a chronicle of the island, which
recorded many major events. Do we still have it?”

“Probably,” Li Yun says, “Back then, Zhe Shi was worried that what
we brought from Fuyao Mountain and the books we copied and
collected on Azure Dragon Island would get lost, so he brought them
with him all the time. That’s how we still have those, even after our
hasty escape from Azure Dragon Island. Have a look in the new
Library Tower behind the bamboo grove.”

Hearting that, Cheng Qian immediately stands up. At the same time,
he recalls what Ji Qianli told him. There are quite a few clues in the
words of that weird geezer.

Following Li Yun’s direction, Cheng Qian goes to the bamboo grove

and finds the reputed Library Tower.

Although this place is also called Library Tower, it can’t compare to

the old nine-floor Library Tower where books from the whole world
were collected. It is just a small building with two floors made from
wood, which is so fragile that it looks like it is about to collapse.

The first floor stores the cultivation techniques Yan Zhengming and
the others have collected from everywhere, which include both
practices of the righteous path and shady tricks. Some of them were
already incomplete at the time of purchase and got revised by Yan
Zhengming or Li Yun into new sets of techniques.

The second floor has none other than the properties of Fuyao Sect.
There are scriptures copied by Yan Zhengming, guides to the Fuyao
Wooden Sword that were revised by Cheng Qian himself, as well as
various books they brought with them when they left Fuyao
Mountain. These books have been through many ups and downs.
Although they all have protective spells on the covers to protect them
from humidity and pests, the sorrowful mark of time can still be seen
on the pages.

Cheng Qian longingly runs his fingers across the spines of the
books. He has never missed Fuyao Mountain as much as that
moment. Besides the ‘human’ lock, they are separated from home by
the unknown dangers and the unaccountable conspiracies around
the Demon Vanquishing Seal.

The chronicle of Azure Dragon Island has a distinctive mark, so

Cheng Qian finds it quickly from the chaotic pile of books. Fuyao
Sect hasn’t accepted any new disciple. With the current tiny group,
all scriptures and records are tossed haphazardly here, which no
one will touch if there is nothing they need to look up. As Cheng
Qian pulls out the chronicle, several other books fall down in a cloud
of dust.

Clicking his tongue, Cheng Qian bends down to pick up the books.
He discovers that there are two copies of the Scripture of Serenity.

Who made the extra copy?

Cheng Qian picks up the books and dusts them off. The handwriting
in one copy is delicate and graceful, which is likely Li Yun’s work.
The writing on the copy of the other one is careless, like that of a
child’s, with stick-like strokes. That’s definitely his most senior
brother’s handwriting during the teenage years.

In his childhood, Cheng Qian took over the copying punishment for
Yan Zhengming so many times that he could imitate his handwriting
flawlessly. That’s why he can recognise whose work the book is with
just a glance.

As he is feeling a bit upset, Cheng Qian opens the Scripture of

Serenity copy in the bottom. He is startled to discover that there is
another cover below the ‘scripture’ cover. On that cover, there is a
picture of a person surrounded by fabulous flowers, who is
flirtatiously holding a jade flute in hand and smiling at the reader.
Next to the figure is a small line: “A Life of Elegant Pleasure”

Cheng Qian: “...”

What… What is this?!

After a moment of confusion, he opens the book as if possessed.

The content of the fake Scripture of Serenity is full of variety, with
both prose and verse along side illustrations. It tells a love story that
happens in a brothel of the mortal world. A handsome scholar and a
courtesan were intoxicated with love and made their vow, but ended
up separating. It’s interspersed with songs, both delicate and crude.
The storytelling is quite skillful and emotional. Some parts are even
inspired.
The thing is, the illustrations are unimaginable. There is no restraint
to them at all. They do not only show everything of the main
characters without hiding anything, but only depict all kinds of
intimate acts. It can be said that they are an excellent guide for the
realm of “pursuing pleasures”.

One cannot look directly at those.

Cheng Qian flips through some pages. He can see that no illustration
is repeated. Additionally, there are countless fantastical techniques
of unknown origin. Compared to what is shown in these pictures, the
demonic cultivators in Zhaoyang City were just some barbaric
provincials!

Cheng Qian dares not look too closely. As he is about to close the
book, he is reminded that his most senior brother disguised the outer
cover as the Scripture of Serenity. A strange expression falls on his
face.

Before he finishes processing how weirded out he feels, there is the

sound of quick footsteps. Yan Zhengming quickly climbs up the stairs
of the Library Tower as he asks, “Found anything yet?”

In his spot, Cheng Qian is so startled that his hands tremble. The
fake Scripture of Serenity slips from his hands and falls on the
ground, revealing a scene of some pleasurable undertaking.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

As the saying goes, this is like lightning striking from a clear sky. In
this moment, Cheng Qian feels that heavenly tribulations can’t
compare to this.
After a second of being at a loss, he seizes his chance. Pretending
that nothing is wrong, he assumes a calm expression and moves to
pick up the questionable book. However, it is snatched out of his
hand.

Sect Leader Yan has been occupied with many serious businesses,
so he has forgotten all of his adolescent bad habits. As soon as he
sees the book, he can’t help his temper. His anger erupts, as he
feels like someone defiled a pristine ground he had been protecting
with all his might.

He swats away Cheng Qian’s hand and says angrily, “Where does
this filth come from? Didn’t you say you want to find the chronicle of
Azure Dragon Island? Why is this with you?”

Having no other choice, Cheng Qian weakly explains, “It fell down
from the shelf.”

Yan Zhengming picks up the book. The pictures inside are an

assault to his eyes. With an aggressive air, he asks, “Did you open
it?”

Cheng Qian: “...”

Yan Zhengming’s breath shortens as his anger heats up even more.

He scolds, “I thought you’d be less trouble than the other two. Now
look at you! Why are you even reading this? Don’t you know that you
still have some internal injury? Why don’t you concentrate and keep
a calm mind for your healing instead of reading this kind of
nonsense?”

The more he talks, the angrier he is. He taps Cheng Qian’s chest
with the book with so much force that it is nearly torn. “Shameless!”
Cheng Qian doesn’t argue back. He doesn’t know what he should
say either.

Yan Zhengming heatedly says, “If I knew which villain put this thing
in our library tower, I will…”

Cheng Qian speaks up in a small voice, “Senior Brother, it was

probably you…”

Yan Zhengming says, “…What?”

Cheng Qian delicately uses his fingers to turn the book that was
nearly crushed by Yan Zhengming and points at the fake ‘Scripture
of Serenity’ title.

Completely at a loss, Yan Zhengming stares fixedly at the three

familiar characters.

Cheng Qian hastens to ‘show his understanding’. He says, “Senior

Brother, it’s not a big deal. Back then you were still young and didn’t
understand everything yet, I know.”

Before he finishes, he himself feels that it isn’t quite right. If Yan

Zhengming already mixed this kind of stuff among the sect’s
teachings when he was ‘still young’ and brought it out of Fuyao
Mountain in secret with him on a long journey, then isn’t Cheng Qian
implying him to be a rotten playboy from birth?

As expected, Yan Zhengming’s ears redden as his face goes

through several shades. He snatches the fabulous picture book and
turns away without a word.
Something moves in Cheng Qian’s heart. He leans on the railings. In
the faint light of the protective spells against molds and pests, his
usually apathetic face looks much softer.

“Most senior brother,” Cheng Qian calls out to Yan Zhengming and
boldly asks, “Zhuang Nanxi told me that he liked a rogue cultivator,
to the point that his feelings wouldn’t have changed even if she had
been a mortal. When you were young, you once read these, uhm,
old stories. Have there been such people who would ‘like that person
despite a mortal’s short life’?”

The library tower is a bit dark. Half of Yan Zhengming’s face is

hidden in the shadow of a shelf, so it’s hard to see his expression.
He doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing, as
if he turned into a statue.

After a long while, Yan Zhengming asks an irrelevant question, “Who

is Zhuang Nanxi?”

Cheng Qian says, “A talkative disciple of White Tiger Estate.”

Yan Zhengming’s voice suddenly becomes frosty. “From now on, you
should stop hanging out with such indecent people. You have
already given up the pleasures of the senses to overcome Heavenly
Tribulations, so shouldn’t you know what ‘maintain a pure mind to
pursue the Way’ is? If you continue to think about nonsense, then
take your ass back to Qingan Abode and do it there!”

Melancholy falls on Cheng Qian’s eyes.

The footsteps become fainter and fainter. The door of the Library
Tower makes a clicking sound, as it automatically closes after being
opened thanks to the spell cast on it. A chilly breeze blows by.
Cheng Qian quietly picks up the books he carelessly let fall down
and puts them back on the shelf. Finally, he grabs the chronicle of
Azure Dragon Island. Sitting down at the bench by the window, he
opens it.

Thanks to a clever design, the lamp on the wall lights up. Cheng
Qian flips through some pages, and suddenly feels that everything is
so pointless.

All these years, whether against the Heavens, the other cultivators,
or death, he has never taken a step backwards. Even now, he
doesn’t believe that there is anything in this world that he can’t do.

It isn’t until that moment that he understands how things don’t always
go according to his wish.

Maybe it’s because his injured primordial spirit hasn’t been properly
healed, that Cheng Qian feels overwhelmed by fatigue. Looking at
the boring writing in the chronicle, he suddenly thinks, “What’s the
point of becoming a powerful, renowned cultivator? Wouldn’t one
end up being envied and a target for conspiracies? What’s the point
of trying to reach ascension and become immortal, when one has to
put away all human feelings in order to walk on the Great Way that
no one can see? Wouldn’t one end up having to watch the world
fade away?”

Their lives aren’t even worth as much as the mortals, short as theirs
are.

Cheng Qian’s heartbeats slow down as he becomes himself again.

He feels that his heart is tied up in a complicated knot.
Perhaps he really needs to go into seclusion and refine himself,
since he keeps coming back to that topic...

As Cheng Qian thinks that ascension is meaningless, he skims

through the chronicle of Azure Dragon Island without looking
specifically for what is relevant to Fuyao Sect. Suddenly, he pauses,
as realisation dawns on him.

Although Azure Dragon Island is in the middle of the sea, its

chronicle covers many other territories. Besides the events on the
island, the chroniclers took a page from the mortals’ history records
and noted down major events of cultivators everywhere.

Cheng Qian detects a pattern in the chronicle. The people who took
three hundred years to form their primordial spirits basically stopped
at that level. Nothing extraordinary happened to them. They lived out
their lifespans to about a thousand years old then died.

The other type, whether thanks to a firm heart or natural talent,

formed their primordial spirits very early. Some of their stories are
recorded in the chronicle. They must have been important people of
their times. However, they all went into a hermit life and disappeared,
or became mad from qi deviation, or met an untimely end due to
disasters.

In the entire chronicle of Azure Dragon Island, nothing is said about

ascension.

Rubbing his forehead, Cheng Qian tries to gather his scattered mind,
as doubt rises in his heart. Is it the case that people who ascended
were too humble? Or can it be… since the chronicle of Azure Dragon
Island was started until the Island fell, no one ever successfully
ascended?

Cheng Qian puts away the chronicle of Azure Dragon Island, then
walks quickly downstairs. Carefully directing his spiritual energy, he
makes a sign to the spell-carved bookshelf, and says in a low voice,
“I want to read records on ‘Ascension’.”

The wooden bookshelf, which is covered with a frost-like layer of

spiritual energy, shakes a little, then some old records give off a faint
light. Cheng Qian takes them out one by one and brings them back
to Qingan Abode.

That day, Yan Zhengming lost his temper at Cheng Qian. He

immediately regretted it as soon as he left, but he had no other way.
Heavens witness, when Cheng Qian leaned against the railing and
asked him that question, he felt as if his chest and everything inside
had been crushed by a huge boulder, which both shook and hurt
him. Using anger as the cover, he ran away. In the days after, he
tries to avoid Cheng Qian.

However, he quickly discovers that it is redundant, because Cheng

Qian hasn’t left the second Qingan Abode since then. They live next
door, but don’t see each other at all in ten days.

In the middle of that situation, Zhe Shi sends a letter.

Their courier is still Puddle, who can turn into a bird at will. To hide
her increasingly conspicuous bird form, Li Yun uses his talent to turn
her into a sparrow.

Filled with murderous resentment against her Second Brother,

Puddle the sparrow flies off. However, she quickly discovers that this
form is very useful. A small bird can get in almost anywhere without
being detected. Only flies can be sneakier than that.

Thanks to that, she finally meets Zhe Shi.

“Zhe Shi-ge said, Celestial Divination Bureau has many levels. The
initiates have to work as spies for at least ten years and up to a
hundred years outside. Then they have to go through an extremely
stringent round of inspection to ensure that their history is completely
clean before they can officially become a member. However,
something happened recently, such that the internal disciples fell out
in a deadly conflict. After just a night, half of the familiar faces
disappeared. Then came the rebellion of Fourth… ah, the demonic
dragon. The Celestial Divination Bureau needed more hands, so
they were recruiting. The cultivation of Zhe Shi-ge and some spies
like him was decent, and they hadn’t made any mistake, so they
were allowed in. They were sent to ambush someone near Tai Yin
Mountain. The order wasn’t specific, but Zhe Shi-ge said the target
was Fourth Brother.”

Tai Yin Mountain is not far away from their home Fuyao Mountain.

Yan Zhengming makes his decision without hesitation. “The estate is

to be sealed off tomorrow. We’ll depart for Tai Yin Mountain right
away.”

Li Yun hastily runs after him and asks, “We go to Tai Yin Mountain
and then what? What are we going to do? Are you planning to help
the Celestial Divination Bureau capture Han Yuan? Or are we
breaking the oath and opposing the Demon Vanquishing Seal to help
Han Yuan get his vengeance?”
“We must comply with the oath of the Demon Vanquishing Seal,” Yan
Zhengming says in a voice that brokers no argument.

Hearing that, everyone’s heart is heavy.

After a beat, Yan Zhengming continues, “However, we must not let

Han Yuan be captured by the Celestial Divination Bureau. We must
stop him before the Tai Xing Grand Congress begins and take him
here. He is one of us Fuyao Sect. Even if he destroyed a corner of
the sky and had to be cut into pieces, that decision is not for
outsiders to make.”
 Liu Yao - Chapter 81

Very very sorry for being very very late! And thank you to MrMissRandom
for editing so efficiently!

Having decisively made his declaration, Yan Zhengming stands up to

leave. However, just as he opens the door, Li Yun calls him back.

Li Yun averts his eyes and says with some hesitation, “Oh, yeah,
there is still something else…”

Following his gaze, Yan Zhengming glances at the side. “What?”

There is a voice in the air. “It’s me… I… I… Ouch!”

The sound of something heavy falling down can be heard. Yan

Zhengming quietly withdraws his leg.

“Nian Dada, well, has been staying in a guest room of Fuyao Estate
all this time,” Li Yun smiles ruefully. “He insists on begging Xiao Qian
to take him in as a disciple, and vows to be a member of our Fuyao
Sect at all costs. He said we could test him in any way we liked, he
would face even Hell.”

With a smashed face, Nian Dada looks up. He wipes the blood on
his nose. He grins to Cheng Qian. His voice is warbled, as if his
teeth broke or he bit on his mouth when he fell. “‘aster, pwease
accept ‘e.”
Li Yun says, “Xiao Qian was in seclusion in the last few days so he
had no time to meet this kid. He has been loitering around here for a
while.”

Cheng Qian surprisedly asks, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Nian Dada wipes his face. With clearer words, he puffs his chest and
says proudly, “I won’t give up!”

Yan Zhengming grimaces. Fuyao Sect has been on the wrong path
enough times. In the previous generation, the nominal disciple
became a half dead half alive infamous villain, while the actual
disciple ended up a weasel. In this generation, Yan Zhengming, as
the most senior disciple, knows exactly what he is like.

For two consecutive generations, the sect has not a single reliable
disciple. If this generation takes in a ‘stick like glue’1 one, will there
be any dignity left for the sect?

He should absolutely stop this tradition of treating the recruitment of

disciples like a joke, in order to prevent damage for the future
generations!

“No,” Yan Zhengming says in a voice that brokers no argument.

“Pardon our lack of courtesy. We have to leave due to an
emergency, so I’m afraid we can’t entertain any guest. Please feel
free to leave!”

Nian Dada takes in a deep breath and says loudly, “I swear I will not
shy from any menial task. I will serve you diligently. Sect Leader,
please let me join Fuyao Sect!”
Too lazy to continue the argument, Yan Zhengming says, “Li Yun,
send Nian Mingming a notice. No way he’ll look away when his son
betrays him and joins a different sect.”

Li Yun says blandly, “Oh, you don’t know it, but the bunch in
Mingming Valley are just some random cultivators. They occupy that
mountain and enjoy the tributes in exchange for helping the villagers
below eliminate some low-level monsters. Besides the assignments
from the Lord of the Valley, the disciples can just leave and join other
sects if they don’t want to waste their time there. Through that,
Mingming Valley may even gain some valuable connections. It works
out too well for them, so why should they mind it?”

Yan Zhengming: “...”

How can there be such a shameless and lazy sect in this world?

Yan Zhengming says, “You fall off from your sword. How can our
Fuyao Sect accept you?”

The three disciple brothers and sister behind him are speechless at
how their most senior brother can make such an unreasonable
demand. Back then, when they joined the sect, they couldn’t even
hold a sword firmly, let alone ride it.

Nian Dada says resolutely, “Sect Leader, I’m aware how limited my
ability is. I will definitely cultivate as best as possible, so that the sect
won’t be ashamed of me.”

“Do we even need to look at your cultivation to be ashamed?” Giving

the boy a glance, Yan Zhengming intentionally picks a fight. “Go
away. As long as I am the Sect Leader, our sect will not accept ugly
people.”
Nian Dada: “...”

He has no reply for such an out-there argument.

Nian Dada helplessly glances at Cheng Qian, whose mind is being

occupied by something else. That line from Yan Zhengming reminds
Cheng Qian of various incidents in the past that he has half-
forgotten. Indeed, ever since he was young, their most senior brother
has never limited his vanity to his own appearance. His temperament
is uniquely impossible, such that he refuses to touch food that
doesn’t look good.

Cheng Qian looks at the old indigo robe that he has worn since
forever. For the first time since his birth, he feels that he is dressing a
bit messily.

After thrashing about a bit in his kneeling position, Nian Dada

manages to come up with something. “Sect Leader, I can’t do
anything about my face, but I’ll do everything to improve my aura, so
that I’ll become an ethereal cultivator.”

Glancing at Cheng Qian, he hastens to add some flattery. “I’ll try to

be like Master!”

Unfortunately, that’s a wrong tack to take. Yan Zhengming thinks,

“Who do you think you are, daring to compare yourself to Xiao-Qian
like that?”

The pressure from a sword cultivator who has reached the ‘Joining
the Sheath’ level is no joke. Nian Dada feels that he would be
flattened even if he had ten spines. Again and again he reminds
himself that this is a test he has to pass to join the sect, so he grits
his teeth and tries not to give in. However, within seconds, blood
begins to splash on the floor.

Cheng Qian, who has been silent from the beginning, speaks up,
“Senior Brother, please let him off. It isn’t a bad thing that he is so
determined.”

For ten days, Yan Zhengming had been very anxious because he
couldn’t find an opening to talk to Cheng Qian. As soon as he hears
Cheng Qian’s voice, euphoria fills his heart. However, he has to
reign his feelings in. Keeping a ‘Sect Leader’ face with some
difficulty, he lets out one syllable, “Huh?”

Cheng Qian says, “Before I left Mingming Valley, he had waited

outside all night for me. Then he finds his way to this Estate. It looks
like he has some steel. Back then, Azure Dragon Island took in many
rogue cultivators who couldn’t even absorb qi. His control of the
sword is sloppy, but at least he can ride his sword shakily.”

In Cheng Qian’s opinion, when it comes to recruiting disciples, as

long as the candidates have an honest character, there is no need to
be too picky about other things. Their sect has always been ‘the
Master leads the way to the gate, but cultivation depends on the
self’. Whether one has great talents or not, there is always
something one can do.

With just a few words from Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming, who was
determined to act tough, immediately melts. He says, “I find his
potential pretty limited.”

Cheng Qian smiles, “As the saying goes, one may not care about the
monk but still has to respect the Buddha. I still owe Mingming Valley
a sentimental favour.”

Yan Zhengming says nothing. Puddle wants to share her opinion too,
but Li Yun quickly stops her. They quietly watch their Sect Leader’s
circus from the side.

As expected, despite wishing to send Nian Dada back to Mingming

Valley with a kick just a few seconds ago, Yan Zhengming cheerfully
makes a concession, “Fine, if you say so. We can feed one more
mouth. Things are chaotic because of the war, so let’s give him a
verbal acceptance first. We can hold a proper initiation ritual for him
later, when we are back to Fuyao Mountain.”

Li Yun says loudly, “Sect Leader and senior brother, why are you so
agreeable when it’s Xiao-Qian who makes the suggestion?”

Yan Zhengming: “...”

He aggressively glares at Li Yun, then runs off without daring to look

at Cheng Qian’s expression.

Cheng Qian taps Nian Dada’s shoulders, “Follow me.”

Thus, he leads the disciple who volunteers himself out of the room.

Staring at Cheng Qian’s retreating back, Li Yun nudges Puddle with

his elbow. “What is your conclusion from this incident?”

Puddles thinks for a moment, then says sincerely, “In the future, if I
want something, I should go convince Third Brother first. With his
approval, our most senior brother will agree, even if he doesn’t like
it!”
Li Yun: “...”

Puddle asks, “Did I say something wrong?”

Li Yun pats her head, “No, kid, you’re right.”

Puddle swats his hand away and asks, “Second Brother, did you
have an initiation ceremony of your own? What is the precept that
you got?”

Li Yun falls silent. The trouble-making smile on his face fades away
too. In its place is an air of nostalgia that Puddle has never seen
before. He says in a soft voice, “Our Master said I was too smart.
Being too smart would make me impatient, which could easily lead to
anxiety. In the long run, it would cause me both emotional and moral
injuries. Therefore, he gave me ‘Be simple’ as my precept.”

Having said that, he looks down and sighs, as if knowing himself that
he has failed his Master’s teachings.

Puddle says, full of admiration, “Don’t sigh like that. I don’t even
have a precept.”

When their Master passed away, she couldn’t even talk. There was
no time to give her a precept. As such a step is missing all this time,
it seems like she can’t become a full adult.

Puddles mutters, “Second Brother, in your opinion, what would

Master give me as my precept if he were still alive?”

Li Yun says, “Usually, a precept describes how one’s flaw can be

balanced out with one’s strength. In your case, it’d be…”
Puddle looks at him expectantly.

Li Yun says, “Perhaps it’d be ‘Featherless’?”

He became the first senior brother in the history of Fuyao Sect to be

beaten by the youngest junior sister.

Ten days later at the Tai Yin central plain.

The shape of Tai Yin Mountain is flat. Compared to Tai Xing

Mountain, where the immortals frequent, it is more down to earth.

Along about one hundred miles west of the mountain, there are
many villages and watchtowers, which are connected by a great
road full of traffic. The commerce is bustling, and the fertile fields,
tilled by numerous oxen, stretch to the horizon.

According to legends, there is a dwelling of the immortals not far

from there. That place is hidden to mortal eyes. Only the ‘fated’
people can see a faint shadow of a mountain where the divine
cranes fly.

However, in the present, the region around Tai Yin Mountain has
changed drastically.

Half a month ago, the number of soldiers around Tai Yin Mountain
doubled. With their sharp weapons, they brought about an air of
emergency.

In the following days, many immortals fly in from their swords, aloof
from the mortals. From the soldiers in the fortress, rumours spread
that those immortals are creating an array to fight against someone.
No one forces the civilians here to leave. However, the local officials
posted many notices that recommended the people to move to
another place. The notices also said that those who moved would be
paid a stipend as support for when they settled down in a strange
place.

Panic spreaded as soon as the notices appeared in public. As the

array gradually formed around Tai Yin Mountain, the surrounding
areas became increasingly abandoned. The terrified civilians queued
up to receive the stipend from dawn to dusk. After just a few days,
except for those who are too old and weak, most of the houses have
been abandoned.

When the demonic cultivators receive the invitation for the battle in
Tai Xing, they’ll inevitably cross the Tai Yin area. As Tai Yin Mountain
is very close to his former sect Fuyao, Han Yuan the demonic
dragon will definitely pause here. Following his orders, You Liang
has been at this place a few days early to wait and ambush the
demonic dragon, while a grand Demon Execution Array is
constructed around Tai Yin mountain. Even if the demonic dragon
can’t be completely contained, a significant part of his power must be
destroyed while everyone else is focused on the gathering in Tai
Xing.

You Liang stands on the high fortress and looks down at the lines of
people leaving with their families, who look like ants from that
distance.

In his heart, You Liang knows too well that these people will not find
safety when they leave the Tai Yin Mountain area. On the contrary,
they have no protection at all. If they are unlucky enough to
encounter a demonic cultivator from the North, they will be like an
insect in the hand of a cruel child and end up being torn to shreds.

However, You Liang also knows that these people must leave.
Because the mortals need food to live with all the associated bodily
functions, their spiritual energy is polluted. If so many civilians
stayed, the grand Demon Execution Array will be disturbed.

He clutches his sword tightly. His senior brother once told him that
the sword is named “Tan Xin”2 . When the sword was forged, the
swordsmith was careless and let a bit of incense ash fall into the
metal. When the sword was formed, it carried less aggression than
other swords. Therefore, it’s considered a ‘Sword of Compassion’.

The young sword cultivator takes a deep breath, as he feels a chill

from the handle of the ‘Sword of Compassion’ in his hand.

At that moment, a cultivator with messy hair flies in on his sword and
lands in front of You Liang. He makes his salute and says, “Official
You, someone powerful has trespassed in the array and disturbs the
southwest front line”.

That cultivator is an outer staff of the Celestial Divination Bureau.

Other people called him ‘Straw-like Zhang’. Because of his skills with
arrays, he is assigned to Tai Yin Mountain and has the authority to
manage the creation of the grand Demon Execution Array.

Hearing that report, You Liang puts his thoughts aside and
concentrates his spiritual energy in his eyes. Activating the ‘Eagle
Eye’ spell, he looks into the direction the Zhang cultivator reported.
He is startled to meet the eyes of that person. The newcomers are
no other than the Fuyao Sect group.
Yan Zhengming apathetically looks at him. After a second, a gust of
sharp sword energy charges directly at You Liang’s face.

Terrified, You Liang dares not counter it directly. He withdraws a

good distance before raising his sword. However, that seemingly
killer sword energy just teases gently at the sheath of his sword, then
disperses.

You Liang pants heavily. He can’t help but feel that he just luckily
avoided being stabbed. That attack shakes him so badly that his
palms are covered in cold sweats.

Sword cultivators have exceptional mind and spirit. They can face
anything as long as they can still reach for their sword energy.
However, ‘stopping at the right time’ and ‘casual but precise control
of energy’ are already beyond You Liang’s capability. At that
moment, he understands that the gap between him and Yan
Zhengming isn’t just the ‘Divine Realm’. It’s a whole world.

“Official You!” The Zhang cultivator looks scared. He steps forward

and says, “Who dares to be so insolent? Should I send a unit to
follow them?”

You Liang’s face is white as a sheet. With all his might, he tries to
reach for his words. “That person is a sword cultivator who has
reached the Divine Realm level. Even the Four Sages have to watch
their steps around him. What can you do? Go there to be sent
back?”

The Zhang cultivator is stunned.

You Liang angrily yells, “Go away!”

Having yelled at that person, he himself walks off, his head hanging
with unbearable shame and anger.

As soon as You Liang turns away, the respectful flattery on the face
of the Zhang cultivator immediately disappears. He throws a
malicious glance at You Liang’s direction. Then he looks at where
the sword energy came from with a strange expression.

Some cultivators gather by that person’s side. One of them says in a

low voice, “Zhang-Dage, those so-called ‘Great Sects’ Cultivators’
sneer at our array creation as some petty tricks. How insufferably
arrogant they are.”

The Zhang cultivator gives a chilly smile, “He is just a junior who
newly formed a primordial spirit. He dares to lecture us while his
cultivation base is still shaky. What a fop. Who is the target of this
Demon Execution Array that we are making? Han Yuan the Demonic
Dragon! No matter if he has reached Divine or Infernal Realm of
sword cultivation, all of them will die with just a simple move from
us!”

A cultivator hesitantly asks, “Zhang-Dage, you mean…”

That Zhang cultivator gives the group some instructions. At a

distance, Li Yun frowns at Yan Zhengming, “Sect Leader and senior
brother, what are you doing?”

“Humiliate them,” Yan Zhengming casually clasps his hands behind

his back. “Can’t you tell? We can’t resist the Demon Vanquishing
Seal trick of the Celestial Divination Bureau, but we aren’t so
helpless as to be unable to make their members eat a humble pie.”
Li Yun diligently gives his advice, “Come on, the Celestial Divination
Bureau has many petty assholes. To deal with such types, we have
to use their tactics. We can lie and deceive them, or ambush and kill
them when they’re unprepared. Don’t provoke them. When a
poisonous snake bites you out of spite, you get hurt too.”

Yan Zhengming easily forgets old transgressions. He doesn’t like

fighting. Nor is he bloodthirsty. However, he has a bad habit. After
living at the absolute bottom for a long time, he is stubbornly
arrogant. He has always insulted people to their faces easily, but
while it was unintentional in the past, as an adult he intentionally
leaves no way for the other party to step back and escape
humiliation.

His sword cultivation has been so advanced that he disregards even

the Four Sages. Why should he care about a sword cultivator who
has just formed their primordial spirit?

However, how can someone who lives amongst people not give the
other side any way to retreat from the situation? Li Yun can’t help but
feel anxious.

1. "Nian Dada" is homophonous with "very sticky" in Mandarin apparently.

2. Tan Xin 檀心. Roughly 'heart of sandalwood'
 Liu Yao - Chapter 82

Thanks as always to MrMissMrsRandom for editing! Warning for gore and

violence.

***

The Fuyao Sect group makes a detour to this area because they
sensed a great array being formed in Tai Yin. After having a look
from the outside, Cheng Qian asks, “Second Brother, what do you
think?”

Li Yun makes no definite statement. He just says, “Tough. The

Celestial Divination Bureau really throws everything they have into
this.”

Yan Zhengming presses, “Can this array be destroyed? Just say yes
or no.”

Heart full of worry, Li Yun doesn’t bother to reply. He makes a small

sign with his fingers. As if there were an invisible stick moving
according to his direction, the map of Tai Yin area is drawn on the
ground.

“They’ve made such a big array over a large area here to capture
Han Yuan. It takes heaps of resources to run something like this.
The usual way is to base it on a lot of humans, or a powerful divine
artifact,” Li Yun says, “The former method isn’t very practical.
Demonic cultivators are very impulsive, but they’re not unobservant.
When a large crowd gathers to operate an array, anyone with eyes
can break it.”

“There are two approaches to breaking an array: by skill or by force.

That means you either have to be able to identify the ‘eye’ of the
array then destroy it, or use raw strength to overpower the array.
Given how much resources the Celestial Divination Bureau has been
mobilizing, they must be very well-prepared. It doesn’t seem feasible
to rely on brute force,” Li Yun sighs. Erasing the map on the ground,
he continues, “Do you remember the array Han Yuan created near
Fuyao Mountain a while ago? For some reason, he seems to be
doing lots of research on this topic. He likely knows about it as much
as I do. If he is snared by the Demon Execution Array, it should be
expected that he will try to calculate the ‘eye’ of the array. The
Celestial Divination Bureau undoubtedly will have prepared for
that.”

Cheng Qian says, “You’re getting long-winded. In the end, you don’t
know how to break this array, do you?”

“...It’s not that,” Li Yun says with some hesitation. “The issue is this
method carries some risk. Han Yuan has transformed into a demonic
dragon. We happen to have a True Dragon Flag in our possession. If
we…”

“It’s only us,” Yan Zhengming cuts in, “It’s no place for someone who
has not formed a primordial spirit like you.”

...The Sect Leader and senior brother is such an asshole.

“‘You guys’, then! Are you happy now?!” Being hit in a sore spot, Li
Yun angrily says, “What’s so great about having a primordial spirit?
Something like this Demon Execution Array uses the spiritual energy
of Heaven and Earth. You’re not a match for it even if you have ten
primordial spirits! What are you being so full of yourself for?!”

Puddle furtively pokes at Cheng Qian. He has no other choice but to

step up without hesitation and interrupt the squabble between his
senior brothers. “Fine, what’s the relation between a demonic dragon
and the True Dragon Flag? Most senior brother, you should talk less
if you don’t know anything about this.”

Yan Zhengming glares at Cheng Qian, but he quickly has to turn his
gaze away. For whatever reason, Cheng Qian finally remembered to
change his tattered old robe, which was barely more than a cleaning
rag. Even if Cheng Qian’s new robe is just black like ink with no
sense of fashion, which looks obviously cheap, Yan Zhengming still
finds him very easy on the eyes.

The robe makes Cheng Qian’s features more defined. With Shuang
Ren by his side, he seems even sharper and more formidable.
However, when there is a shadow of a smile on his face, he is as
precious as a jewel.

Yan Zhengming can’t resist looking at Cheng Qian again and again,
rueing that he can’t permanently edge every detail into his mind.
Then maintaining a most honourable face of a righteous person, he
looks away as if nothing happens. While still excitedly recalling the
image over and over again in his head, he listens to Li Yun
discussing the serious matter at hand.

“There is a dragon spine and dragon soul inside the True Dragon
Flag,” Li Yun says, “As a demonic dragon, Han Yuan still lacks a
dragon spine, doesn’t he? With his cultivation level, he can really
make use of the True Dragon Flag and acquire the power of the
ancient divine dragon. Then he will have the sufficient power to deal
with the Demon Execution Array. The issue is…”
The others all understand what he is about to say.

It’s one thing to steal someone from the Celestial Divination Bureau.
It’s quite another to give a dragon spine and assist someone with as
much blood on his hands as Han Yuan to do more evil deeds.

Even without the Oath with the Demon Vanquishing Seal, that is
definitely not something they can do.

“We shall not discuss this topic again,” Yan Zhengming says, “Li Yun,
put away your True Dragon Flag. You must not take it out. Now that
we’re done with observing that Demon Execution Array, let’s go visit
Fuyao Mountain since it’s on our way.”

As he turns away, Yan Zhengming sees that Cheng Qian’s collar is

untidy. Unable to help himself, Yan Zhengming reaches out and
adjusts it.

Cheng Qian is frozen in the middle of making a step. He instinctively

holds his breath.

As Yan Zhengming looks up, he meets Cheng Qian’s eyes, which

are deeper than usual. He is startled to realise that he has been too
intimate. He immediately withdraws his hands as cold sweat breaks
out on his palms. Clearing his throat, he says, “Didn’t you see that
your robe was askew? Pay some attention to your attire, won’t you?”

Cheng Qian keeps his silence, feeling that he can never meet his
most senior brother’s standards for this issue.

In this very short trip, Yan Zhengming is ashamed with himself,

Cheng Qian silently reviews how he lives, while Li Yun, after being
humiliated by his most senior brother, has taken the challenge and
transformed into a relentless motormouth which broadcasts the
wonders of Fuyao Mountain to his new disciple nephew Nian Dada,
which is light in substance and heavy in showing-off.

Li Yun’s extraordinary motormouthing successfully spurs Puddle and

Cheng Qian to run faster and faster. As a result, they arrive at their
original home Fuyao Mountain in the blink of an eye.

Puddle, who has been flying in the front, suddenly changes back into
her human form in the air without any warning. She looks at a spot
on the mountain with an unhappy expression, “Senior Brother,
seems like there is black demonic energy at the base of the
mountain?”

Startled, Cheng Qian immediately flies next to her like a black wind.
“Is that Han Yuan?”

Below them is a thick screen of cloud and fog together with the thick
greenery, which blocks their vision. Puddle shakes her head. “Likely
not. The bloody scent isn’t as thick, but this energy is very polluted.
Moreover…”

Before she finishes talking, Cheng Qian already descends.

Whether it’s demonic or normal cultivation, the more powerful the

cultivator is, the more visible the aura if the cultivator doesn’t
intentionally hide it. These demonic cultivators’ aura can be seen
from the sky, so they are not small fry. It is pretty reckless of Cheng
Qian to charge down directly like that.

Fuyao Mountain is forever his sensitive spot.

Puddle hastily says, “Third Brother, wait…”

She wants to chase after him but her arm is suddenly pulled back.
Yan Zhengming drags her behind him and tells her, “Don’t follow me.
Hide somewhere far enough from here.”

Before Puddle can react, Yan Zhengming disappears in a second.

Cheng Qian is angry, but not overly so. He already hides all of his
aura as soon as he lands. Light as a feather, he hides in a great tree,
then flies up to the thick canopy of the trees without disturbing a
single leaf.

What he sees makes him frown. There are two men and a woman.
That woman dresses in a very eccentric manner. Had it not been for
the fact that she doesn’t carry any yao aura, one might think that she
is one. Her hair is decorated by a large morning glory, while her
private parts are covered with flower petals. Her bare limbs are full of
bracelets made from vines.

Between the two men, one of them is sketching an array on the

ground, while the other one, having found a table and chair from
somewhere, is leisurely drinking tea.

The woman dressed in flowers says flirtatiously, “Both Xiaoxiang-jun

and I don’t know much about arrays. Lu-dage, we all rely on you.”

Hearing that, the one that is sketching the array hastily replies with
flattery, “I dare not claim that. I’m just a lowly one who accompanies
you two seniors. I only dare to take what you don’t care for. If one
day Xiaoxiang-jun claims the Lord Beiming title and lets me be his
servant, I will even face death.”

Xiaoxiang-jun, who is drinking tea, gives a smile without warmth. “As

long as you know that.”

The one who is creating the array respectfully bows his head. The
flower woman laughs heartily, “Lu-dage, you certainly have a silver
tongue. Hey, this Fuyao Sect sure is shady, aren’t they? They are
apparently a sect of the “pure” cultivation, but great demonic
cultivators of several generations come from them. Rumour has it
the previous Lord Beiming was originally from this place. Is that
true?”

Xiaoxiang-jun smirks, “I don’t know the affairs of the previous

generation that well, but how can that Han guy manage to cultivate
and transform into a demonic dragon, then claim to be the Lord of All
Demons? There must be some powerful artifact around here.”

The flower woman seductively walks up to Xiaoxiang-jun, then sits in

his lap. Wrapping her arms around the man’s neck, she says
delicately, “When we manage to use that Han guy’s array to break
the seal on Fuyao Mountain and discover how he transformed into a
demonic dragon, let’s wait here and watch the fight between him and
the dogs of the Celestial Divination Bureau. We’ll have an advantage
when both sides take damage. When you claim the realm and glory,
please don’t forget me.”

From high above, Cheng Qian already realises that the array that is
being formed is copied from Han Yuan’s work back then. Even if he
knows for certain that there is no way to get to Fuyao Mountain
besides solving the seal, he is furious.

However, a hand from behind grabs his shoulder, as if to stop him

from acting recklessly.

Closing his eyes, Cheng Qian speaks through his spiritual

awareness, “These three want to take advantage of the battle
between the Celestial Divination Bureau and the demonic dragon to
be up to no good. Their cultivation is pretty good. Don’t
underestimate them. They can surprise us and cause big trouble.”
Yan Zhengming falls silent after hearing the explanation from Cheng
Qian, then replies, “Kill them.”

Right away, Yan Zhengming takes the lead himself and disappears
like an illusion. Like an unsheathed sword, he charges at Xiaoxiang-
jun, who seems to be the most powerful in the group.

Xiaoxiang-jun angrily shouts, “Who’s there?!”

Yan Zhengming says, “The one who’ll take your life.”

Within the time of that exchange, the two sides become close
enough to face each other. Xiaoxiang-jun spits into the air. A thick
barrier appears out of nowhere, emitting a strange black aura.
Looking visibly scared, the demonic cultivator who has been making
the array hastily finds a place to hide.

Xiaoxiang-jun flies behind the barrier. Before he can breathe out in

relief, there is a loud explosion. The barrier has been crushed with
just a strike. It’s unclear what kind of sword his enemy is using. The
blade of the sword is shrouded in an indescribable sword energy,
which seems harmless at first glance but proves to be terrifying once
one gets close to it.

In a panic, Xiaoxiang-jun spreads his arms. The sleeves billow in two

gusts of pitch black energy. In a second, he seems much more
ferocious. Wrapped in that black energy, he shouts, “You seem tired
of living. Let me gift you some death energy. Fuck off to your
ancestors!”

Any plant or animal touched by the black energy immediately dies

and withers on the spot. Such is the death energy that emits from his
palms!
Xiaoxiang-jun raises his hands. The death energy from both sides
crash onto Yan Zhengming, attacking the protective energy barrier.

The energy of the protective barrier is visibly consumed by the death

energy, then transforms into the death energy itself and becomes a
part of the black cloud. Because Yan Zhengming has an immense
spiritual energy reserve, the death energy quickly becomes more
powerful after a short while.

At that moment, Li Yun’s voice comes from above, “It’s the technique
to switch up yin and yang. It will consume all spiritual energy and life
force, only sword energy can’t…”

Before he can finish, dozens of blades formed from primordial spirit

sweep out like an angry whirlwind. It isn’t until then that Xiaoxiang-
jun can see clearly the sword in Yan Zhengming’s hand. It’s a
wooden sword without a blade!

Xiaoxiang-jun’s face pales, as Yan Zhengming withdraws all of his

protective barrier. The death energy is ripped apart in the air by the
sword aura before it can reach him, while the blades formed from
primordial spirit don’t slow down at all. Buzzing in the air, they charge
directly at Xiaoxiang-jun.

One of the blades runs through Yan Zhengming. Li Yun calls out
again, “Be careful!”

Right after that, ‘Xiaoxiang-jun’ transforms into a skeleton on the

spot, the black eyes of which staring fixedly at Yan Zhengming. It
turns out that it’s a dummy.

Countless Xiaoxiang-juns appear around Yan Zhengming, who are

all pierced by the primordial spirit blades. In just a short while, Yan
Zhengming is surrounded by skeletons. The fight suddenly becomes
even.

About the woman dressed in flowers, she reacts very quickly. As

soon as Yan Zhengming’s sword energy appeared, she decisively let
Xiaoxiang-jun take the front line and made her escape, her flower
petal-studded forehead frowning, “A sword cultivator?”

To an extent, demonic cultivators fear sword cultivators the most.

Those cultivators are born with a killing aura. Besides the demon of
the heart, no poison or trick can get into them. Seeing that the
situation has gone downhill, the woman dressed in flowers
immediately tries to escape. At that moment, a chilly sword will falls
over her. Someone says from behind, “Trying to run?”

The woman dressed in flowers looks back. She is startled at first, but
immediately smiles. Her face like a blooming flower, she hides her
lips behind her hand and says, “Oh, where are you from,
handsome?”

Her words are spoken with a seductive voice. Even if the other
person has a higher cultivation level than she, they would be
stunned a little, even if their mind isn’t completely controlled. Seeing
that, Li Yun wants to warn Cheng Qian, but before he can say
anything, Cheng Qian already attacks.

Completely at a loss for words for a moment, Li Yun bursts out

laughing, “Wow, Xiao-Qian. Puddle, this is an exceptional quality of
your Third Brother. His mind is so firm that he can never be swayed
by surface tricks like beauty. You should try to learn from him.”

Puddle annoyedly glances at him. “What do I need to learn? I’m not

swayed by beauty either, because I am beauty myself.”
Li Yun complains, “By the Heavens above, try to keep some of your
dignity, won’t you.”

Not heeding Puddle’s reaction, he says aloud, “Xiao-Qian,

concentrate and seal your energy. This woman is pretty but shady.
She is definitely well trained in seduction techniques. Be careful of
her poisonous aura.”

Within the time Li Yun says that line, Cheng Qian’s sword energy
already forms an icy cloud, which freezes all seductive aura into ice.
In his hand, the moves of Fuyao Wooden Sword are even more
brutal than Sea Tide Sword. In just a couple of moves, he already
cuts off an arm of that perfumed skeleton.

The woman dressed in flowers lets out a painful scream.

Unfortunately, whether it’s Xiaoxiang-jun, who is being driven into a
corner by Yan Zhengming, or the creator of the array who has
disappeared, no one pays attention to her. These people do not even
share an origin. At the slightest sign of trouble, they all turn their
back at each other.

Fog seeps out from her wounds. Keeping Li Yun’s words in mind,
Cheng Qian leaves her no chance to do any trick. He plans to
quickly freeze her and finish her off in one move.

Having none of her earlier seductive acts, the woman dressed in

flowers avoids the attacks while glaring at Cheng Qian as if wishing
to rip him apart and devour him. Suddenly, she lets out an inhuman
screech. Without any warning, her remaining arm falls from her body.
Blood sprays high into the air from her body. Two flowers bloom from
the empty shoulders. They quickly cover the wounds then fall onto
the ground and transform into a field of flowers.
The flower field quickly absorbs her detached limbs and blood, then
gives off a thick screen of fog.

Nian Dada wants to take a peek from the air, but Li Yun pulls him
back.

“Be careful,” Li Yun says, “Your Master can look at it, but not you.
This woman’s going all or nothing. That flower field feeds on the
blood and flesh of its host. You don’t even need to breathe the air in.
Just a look can give you illusions.”

Nian Dada asks, “Really? Then what does my Master have to do?”

Li Yun says, “Well, this plays into his hand too. His body is made of
Spirit Collecting Jade. These tricks have only limited effects on
him.”

Before he finishes talking, the flowers in the field all fall down, as a
blizzard pours from the sky and sweeps away all pollen. Dressed in
all black, Cheng Qian appears with an apathetic face. However, an
unnaturally beautiful peach blossom lingers on his shoulder.

The woman dressed in flowers, who is no longer quite human, looks

at him with twisting expressions. However, as she sees the peach
blossom on Cheng Qian’s shoulder, she suddenly bursts out
laughing. “Hahaha, your body is no longer of mortal flesh and blood,
yet you still have romantic entanglement? You so-called righteous
cultivators are all hypocrites…”

These words stun quite a few people in the area.

Cheng Qian strikes her at the waist before she can end her speech.
At that moment, from the direction of Tai Yin Mountain, there is the
sound of a loud explosion mixed with a pandemonium of whirlwind,
great birds’ screeching, horses’ neighing, wild beasts’ howling, great
waves crashing, which shake the heaven and earth.

Li Yun’s face pales. “Most senior brother, wrap things up quickly! The
Demon’s Execution Array has been activated!”

Before Yan Zhengming can reply, the array creator who had been
hiding in a corner suddenly appears. A twisted smile breaks out on
his face. “Wrap things up quickly?”

He raises his hand. The array on the ground suddenly twists and
transforms. Xiaoxiang-jun, who was struck in the chest by Yan
Zhengming and painfully fell onto the ground, says with a mixture of
fear and anger. “Lu Qiuping, what are you plotting?!”

The array creator Lu Qiuping already takes over in the array ‘eye’.
“That array of Han Yuan is just a useless one for listening to the
mountain, but you’re still holding onto the illusion of using it to
acquire Fuyao Mountain? How laughable! Hand over the Xiaoxiang-
jun token. Today I’ll show you what ‘the oriole stalking the mantis’ is
like.”

These demonic cultivators choose this life or death moment to turn

on each other!

Everyone is shaken because the Demon Execution Array is

activated earlier than expected. Cheng Qian alone isn’t distracted.
Ignoring everything else, he slashes the demonic woman in half.

Being cut into two at the waist, the flower woman falls into the
ground, her blood gushing out in a stream. All flowers on her wilt and
fall apart, as her face becomes sagged and sallow within seconds.
Poison filling her eyes, she says, “Let me gift you some cursed
peach blossoms.”
As soon as she finishes, her corpse explodes. Already having his
guard up, Cheng Qian uses Shuang Ren to form an ice shield
around him. The blood of the woman clings onto the blade of
Shuang Ren and blooms into countless peach blossoms, but they
are all frozen into trash by the sword of terrible death.

As Cheng Qian shields himself like that, part of the peach blossoms
formed from the flower woman’s suicide attack flies to one side
directly into Lu Qiuping’s array.

Being thus surprised, Lu Qiuping lets out a painful cry as he hides

his face behind his arms. Suddenly red smoke flies up from the array
and wraps over his body. In a blink of the eye, he is turned into a
pink skeleton.

As the situation changes so suddenly, everyone can’t do anything

other than stand and look.

Right after that, something strange happens. A white light full of

killing aura flies in from the direction of Tai Yin Mountain. The Demon
Execution Array has been aggressively expanded. Accordingly,
everyone here has fallen in the zone of the array.

As the killing aura gets in the array of Lu Qiuping, it is tainted by the

cursed peach blossoms. The white light, the demonic energy, and
the red smoke blend together and fly everywhere.

This must be the most complicated array in the world.

 Liu Yao - Chapter 83

Many thanks to MrMissMrsRandom for the editing. Warning for graphic

gore and violence.

Under Tai Yin Mountain, the shadow of the raging demonic dragon
can be seen. Wishing to wrap the matter with the demonic cultivators
quickly, Yan Zhengming takes advantage of the moment when
Xiaoxiang-jun is still stunned, and correctly finds out where his true
body is among the skeletons. Without any mercy, Yan Zhengming
slices him in two with just one strike.

The cursed peach blossoms, which reek of blood, quickly spread

around.

Yan Zhengming shouts, “Let’s go!”

As if to sate his anger, Yan Zhengming grabs Cheng Qian’s shoulder

and drags him along as he rides on the sword, then asks through
gritted teeth, “Romantic entanglement?”

For the first time, Cheng Qian avoids Yan Zhengming’s eyes. He
says in a low voice, “Senior brother, I’m sorry.”

He puts so many things that need to be said in those few words, but
no one gets it. Yan Zhengming doesn’t understand what Cheng Qian
apologizes for. Hearing that, his anger just gets even more heated.
The demon of the heart that was asleep for a while begins to rear its
head again.
Yan Zhengming takes a deep breath and annoyedly recites the
Scripture of Serenity in his head until the lines become like a lullaby.
As his anxious heart reluctantly calms down, the fire of rage is
replaced by cold ash. Yan Zhengming suddenly loses all of his
earlier passion.

Without even looking back, he releases Cheng Qian. “I’ll deal with
you when we’re back. Follow me!”

The group glide across the sky like a rainbow and arrive at the
destination within seconds, while the red-tinged curse still pursues
them from behind. Looking back, Li Yun cautiously says, “Looks like
that array maker wanted to borrow the energy of the Demon
Execution Array to start his own array, then things ended up like this.
These cursed peach blossoms have been merged with the Demon
Execution Array. There is no telling what will happen. I’m afraid it’ll
be tricky for us.”

Yan Zhengming’s face is like a block of ice. “You think no one else
recognizes that? Would it kill you to show off a bit less?”

Li Yun glances at his seething senior brother. He knows right away

that he is just collateral damage for Yan Zhengming’s temper. As a
true hero knows how to adapt to the circumstances, Li Yun doesn’t
argue back.

It doesn’t take them long to get to their destination, but something

unexpected has happened under Tai Yin Mountain.

Han Yuan has entered the Demon Execution Array, but the killing
aura of the array is even worse than that of the demonic dragon’s.

In the array, countless blades of spiritual energy fly from all

directions. Even a stray fallen leaf became like an ice knife.
Someone inside the area of the array are attacked from any direction
and become a meat skewer. Even flying in the air would be no help.

Li Yun frowns. “This is wrong. This array has been changed!”

Yan Zhengming asks, “What?”

“The Demon Execution Array has an extremely strong killing aura. It

destroys whoever stands in its way, regardless of good or evil. To
protect their own people, usually the side that mobilizes this array
will leave an exception, such that the array will only attack what has
demonic energy and leave purified energy alone,” Li Yun says in a
rush, “But the one here obviously comes after allies and enemies
alike!”

As soon as he says that, a person dressed in the black uniform of

the Celestial Divination Bureau runs like mad in their direction.
Completely without any means to defend himself, that cultivator is as
pitiful as a rabbit being pursued by an eagle. In a blink of the eye, a
blade appears right in front of him without warning. Unable to react in
time, the cultivator runs into the blade and gets run through in the
chest, and then the wound splits wider until his body is torn into
pieces.

Yan Zhengming is unable to find a fitting response to the situation.

What kind of luck they have that after running into a bunch of
demonic cultivators who turned against each other, they stumble
upon a betrayal within the Celestial Divination Bureau?!

Now they have to deal with an unpredictable Demon Execution Array

while being persistently pursued by the cursed peach blossoms.

To top it off, Cheng Qian has not been acting like himself!
Li Yun already spots a thrashing demonic dragon in the Demon
Execution Array, “Most senior brother…”

“Let’s break this,” Yan Zhengming says without any emotion, “In the
present, whether it’s the schemers or the marks, everyone is all
stuck in here. It’s likely we’ll all die here if we don’t destroy this
array.”

Terrified by the dark red glint in Yan Zhengming’s eyes, Li Yun

shakily reminds him, “I think you should look after yourself first.”

Yan Zhengming ignores that. He is determined to break this array.

No way he’d let this damned thing trap and kill him here.

He thinks to himself, “I must find out who the person in Cheng Qian’s
heart is.”

He stretches out his arms and shouts a command. As he turns his

palms up, a small wooden sword appears between them, which
keeps getting bigger. Then with a white flash, the sword becomes a
full-sized weapon.

As soon as this wooden sword appears. Cheng Qian gets a strange

feeling. Though it doesn’t really affect him much, he can sense a link
between him and that sword.

An earth-shatteringly powerful ray of sword energy strikes down like

lightning. The strike shakes up the outer area of the Demon
Execution Array and reveals its boundary with a loud explosion.

The demonic dragon suddenly raises his head.

The Demon Execution Array madly strikes back at the sword energy.
Countless blades rain from the sky together with black clouds and
target Yan Zhengming’s sword.
The weapons clash together with a loud screech that seemingly
could tear people’s ears. Sparks fly and explode everywhere like
fireworks, which lights up the dark late evening sky like a sun.

Pain surges in Yan Zhengming’s chest. The veins on his hands

spasm, as blood is nearly squeezed out of his heart.

However, at the moment, he feels a gust of energy that doesn’t

belong to him seeping into his body from the sword formed of
primordial spirit in his hands. Starting from his hands, the energy
gently soothes his damaged meridians.

At the same time, a thin layer of frost appears on the wooden sword.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

What the heck is in this unprecedented sword, which was made from
primordial spirit?

Yan Zhengming’s anger is close to driving him mad. How many

things has that little brat been hiding from him?!

Meanwhile, in that life or death moment, the persistent cursed peach

blossoms have caught up to them.

Like a drop of water falling into a frying pan full of hot oil, the cursed
peach blossoms explode with a sizzling sound as they fall into the
Demon Execution Array.

The cursed peach blossoms swarm the Demon Execution Array in

the blink of the eye, filling everywhere with a thick fragrance.
Everyone can smell a threat from that scent.

A demonic cultivator has his spiritual energy shield breached by the

cursed peach blossoms. His expression turns dreamy, like he is lost
in a mysterious sensation. He flies increasingly slowly then drops
from the sky without any warning. His flesh and blood have all been
sucked dry, making him a happy shrivelled corpse.

Right after that, the demonic dragon lets out a howl that echoes
through the sky, then charges at the border of the Demon Execution
Array that has been revealed by Yan Zhengming’s attack. The
dragon’s giant body thrashes angrily at the line.

Both Heaven and Earth shake as if mountains and rivers would be

broken up. More than half of the Demon Execution Array’s firepower
targets Han Yuan. Countless gleaming blades from all directions
relentlessly slashes the demonic dragon.

The dragon screeches, his eyes glaring as his body is quickly filled
with wounds. However, he doesn’t pause a beat, but instead turns
his body and fearlessly charges at the border of the array.

Li Yun can’t help himself. He rummages in his item pouch, as the

thought of taking out the True Dragon Flag overrides his heart. He
holds the Dragon Flag, his hands trembling.

A hand grips his elbow. Startled, Li Yun lets the True Dragon Flag fall
from his hand, but the person already catches it.

“Second Brother, don’t do that. If this thing falls in the demonic

dragon’s hand, you’ll go down in history as someone who commits
an unforgivable sin,” With the True Dragon Flag in his hand, Cheng
Qian says softly to Li Yun. “Please watch over Puddle and Nian
Dada. I’ll find a way to detect the ‘eye’ of the array.”

Li Yun is shaken. “You…”

Cheng Qian rolls up the True Dragon Flag and puts it in his sleeve,
then flies down the Tai Yin Mountain like an arrow.
As soon as he enters, countless blades from the Demon Execution
Array appear to block his path. Shuang Ren gleams like fire in his
hand as Cheng Qian forges a path in between the sea of blades.
The weapons frozen by frost from the air to the ground on his trail
are like a chilly white silk sash.

The spiritual energy swirls like a storm throughout Cheng Qian’s

body, which affects all of his senses. If Li Yun is right that the it is
impossible to use manpower to run such a large Demon Execution
Array and that the ‘eye’ of the array has to be a divine artifact, Cheng
Qian, who is much more sensitive to such artifacts because of his
Spirit Collection Jade body, should take his chances even if it isn’t
guaranteed he will find that ‘eye’.

Suddenly, someone blocks his way. Without thinking, Cheng Qian

attacks. The two gusts of sword energy clash with each other,
causing the newcomer to be nearly thrown to one side. That person
hastily speaks up. “Senior, please stop!”

That is You Liang.

Cheng Qian of course knows who he is, but doesn’t bother to hold
back. He has had a grudge against these nosy Celestial Divination
Bureau goons for a long time, so he plans to kill all of those that
stand in his way without caring who that is.

His second strike follows without any mercy in the blink of an eye.
The sword energy of Shuang Ren leaves in its trail a huge white
circle. You Liang dares not directly counter it. He hastily moves to
one side out of the way. “Senior, please wait! I know where the ‘eye’
of the array is!”

Glancing at him, Cheng Qian replies with a harsh smile. “I’ve never
trusted dogs of the Celestial Divination Bureau.”
“Senior Cheng!” You Liang’s eyes are red. “There are thirty thousand
local troops of the Tai Yin area here, not to mention hundreds of my
sect’s members. Even if my honor is less than an animal, how can I
stand watching them die here?!”

Cheng Qian pauses. After a few seconds, he glances at the young

sword cultivator, who is close to tears, and says, “Lead the way.”

Having said that, Cheng Qian points his finger in the air. A blinding
ray of white light flies from his hand directly into the sky and
explodes into a cloud of snow, which attracts the attention of
everyone. Even the demonic dragon, who has been bashing the
Demon Execution Array, turns back into human form. Wiping the
blood on his lips, he looks in Cheng Qian’s direction with an
apathetic expression.

Knowing that the mission to capture the demonic dragon in Tai Yin
has failed, You Liang grits his teeth and says recklessly, “Follow me.”

Then he swings his sword and opens a narrow path. Risking

everything, he takes Cheng Qian to a spot under Tai Yin Mountain.

Some corpses are hung on a great tree at that place. You Liang talks
without looking back, “It’s them who meddled with the Demon
Execution Array. I dealt with them, but the array had already started
and couldn’t be stopped. Senior, please have a look.”

There is a huge typhoon under Tai Yin mountain. It swirls like

currents in the great sea, hiding countless sharp blades inside. Even
a sword cultivator who has formed his primordial spirit like You Liang
shakes when facing its killing aura from afar.

Cheng Qian pulls a short sabre from a corpse. He can tell it’s a good
blade just by touching. The spells carved on its hilt are well-made
too, which shows that it was made by an artisan of some major sect
or family.

He weighs the blade in his hand and imbues it with his spiritual
energy, then pushes it into the typhoon. The blade flies off with the
power of a storm. However, in just a second, a fearsome clang can
be heard, as the protective spells around the sabre dissolve like dust
and the blade becomes pieces of junk.

Even steel ends up like that. How can a mortal body survive?

Cheng Qian frowns and turns his hands. Frost gathers around his
body as a sphere of spiritual energy expands under his hands.

Yan Zhengming arrives at that moment. Seeing what is going on, he

immediately rushes ahead and raises his hand to force the spiritual
energy back in, shouting, “Withdraw it!”

Seeing that the spiritual energy full of aggression is about to clash

with Yan Zhengming’s hand, Cheng Qian hastily pulls it back into his
sleeves. Yan Zhengming’s hand comes down and stops just short of
Cheng Qian’s face, as if about to give him a slap.

Cheng Qian stays on the spot without moving, thinking, “If he really
hits me, I’ll probably feel relieved.”

However, Yan Zhengming, after several expressions go through his

face, still puts down his hand. He says harshly, “How dare you test
the ‘eye’ of the Demon Execution Array like that?!”

Cheng Qian says nothing. At first glance, it looks like he is silently

rebelling, so Yan Zhengming gets even angrier.

A harsh laugh comes from not far away. No one notices Han Yuan
too has arrived. Without regard for anyone, he raises his hand and
fires out a gust of aggressive demonic energy.

The demonic energy in the air transforms into a black dragon. The
dragon rears its head and swallows all of the surrounding cursed
peach blossoms, then arrogantly charges at the typhoon.

The ground shakes. As the ‘eye’ of the array seems to be provoked,

the typhoon suddenly doubles in size. Heaven and Earth darken, as
even the wind and the dust become sharp as blades. The black
dragon suffers countless cuts. You Liang is nearly pulled in, while big
and small cracks appear in the protective spiritual energy around
everyone, forcing them to fall back.

Yan Zhengming yells, “Are you crazy?!”

Before he finishes talking, the black dragon created from demonic

dragon lets out a blood curdling screech and dissolves!

Han Yuan’s face pales as he wobbles. He has obviously sustained a

serious injury. Yet even in that state, he still insists on pretending like
nothing happened, and gives You Liang a condescending smile.
“Your esteemed sect’s flair for internal conflict is indeed unparalleled.
Today I’ve learnt a lot from you people.”

Cheng Qian touches the True Dragon Flag in his sleeve and
suddenly says in a low voice, “Maybe I can give a try.”

Yan Zhengming angrily glares at him. As Cheng Qian reveals a bit of

the True Dragon Flag and quickly glances in Han Yuan’s direction,
Yan Zhengming is surprised at first, but he quickly gets the idea.

After exchanging that glance, they immediately make their move.

Cheng Qian deploys the True Dragon Flag. He isn’t like that piece of
junk Bian Xiaohui. As his immense spiritual energy reserve pours
into the dragon flag, the soul of the ancient divine dragon lets out a
loud roar and flies out. It gives off a blazing light, as if it’s become
alive again.

As it turns out, they managed to win the True Dragon Flag not
because the ancient dragon soul was weak, but because Bian
Xiaohui was a terrible user for it, so the flag’s power was severely
restricted. All it had was the primordial spirit lingering in the flag to
support the dragon. Nevertheless, it could still bully quite a few
powerful cultivators.

This time, it’s Cheng Qian who uses this dragon flag.

Initially Han Yuan was surprised, but then upon realizing what the
artifact is, his face turns into a mad delight. As he makes his move,
Yan Zhengming, who is already prepared, immediately strikes at
him.

Han Yuan is forced to fight, but he was already injured by the Demon
Execution Array. Not having enough strength left, he is cornered by
Yan Zhengming’s attack.

As the divine dragon appears, the Demon Execution Array is even

more agitated. Cheng Qian puts away Shuang Ren. As he holds the
dragon spine in his hand, it transforms into a lance. He flies up and
relies on the divine dragon’s protection to enter the earth-shattering
center of the Demon Execution Array.

Even if the divine dragon is in front of him, the killing aura that
smashes in his face still makes Cheng Qian feel like his chest is
being crushed, as the spiritual energy that protects his body shatters.
He holds the lance from the dragon spine in his hands and draws a
circle in front of his chest. The divine dragon immediately curls
around him.
The golden light around the dragon soul immediately dims.

Cheng Qian has to make a push and concentrates all of his spiritual
energy into the True Dragon Flag.

That moment is like when he rushed in and carved a spell without

caring if he could handle it in his childhood. When he stands up,
pains flare up all over his body like being pierced by needles, as his
energy reservoir has nearly dried up and his meridians can’t take it
anymore. The dragon soul is ablaze once again, as the divine
dragon opens its mouth and spits out a pair of golden dragon pearls.

As if being sentient, the seemingly useless dragon pearls fly out and
open a narrow path in the typhoon. Thanks to that, Cheng Qian can
see the ‘eye’ of the array, where something is shining.

Lack of courage has never been Cheng Qian’s problem. Being the
kind of person who must get to his target even if he must crawl, he
ignores how his spiritual energy is getting low, such that he can’t
even ride his sword, and jumps on the dragon’s back. He keeps his
body low and charges into the gleaming storm of blades.

Cheng Qian’s back is quickly filled with wounds big and small, as if
he is a fish on the cutting board. The divine dragon lets out an angry
roar and directly follows the dragon pearls to the center, where the
‘eye’ of the array is.

Feeling that he is already at his limit, Cheng Qian doesn’t bother to

see what artifact the ‘eye’ of the array is. He tosses it in the air with
the lance and catches it with his hand.

As soon as he catches it, his palm burns with indescribable pain.

Cheng Qian can’t help himself and lets out a groan.

The ‘eye’ of the array has been moved from its position.
With a loud explosion, the sea of sharp blades suddenly changes
direction and flies to the sky with increasing speed. Then there is a
loud crash at the border of the Demon Execution Array as it
collapses.

Countless pits of all sizes explode in the ground. The demonic

cultivators and forces of the Celestial Divination Bureau, who have
been stuck in the array, no longer bother to fight each other. They all
look relieved to escape this tribulation.

At that moment, the divine dragon slowly descends.

Having no strength left, Cheng Qian falls down from the dragon.

Ignoring Han Yuan, Yan Zhengming rushes to catch Cheng Qian.

Before he can check Cheng Qian’s injuries, the cursed peach
blossoms fall around them into the ground and transform into an
endless field of beautiful but threatening pink flowers.

With a cold sneer, Han Yuan waves his hand and sends out a sphere
of infernal fire. The fire burns the field of flowers into black ash,
sending thick smoke full of cursed energy into the sky.

However, an unexpected event which stuns everyone happens right

that moment.

As if the thick smoke has stirred up something, lightning strikes from

the sky, then a loud explosion echoes from all directions. Suddenly, a
crack appears in the middle of the sky where the many demon-
execution blades were just a while ago.

The crack, which spans from the sky to the ground, increasingly
widens, as if to tear apart the whole area. Everything, whether living
or not, is swallowed into it.
In the blink of an eye, Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian as well as
the True Dragon Flag disappear on the spot.
 Liu Yao - Chapter 84

Thanks a lot to MrMsMrsRandom for editing. You're awesome!

***

When Cheng Qian regains his consciousness, he sees that he is

surrounded by darkness, as if the light in the sky were extinguished.

His first sensation is pain. Then it’s the cold.

In theory, he once lived by an ice lake for fifty years. Every bone in
his body has been forged by the ice lake, so he no longer had the
sensation of ‘cold’ for quite a while. However, this place is eerie.

Unlike the usual cold of winter, the cold of this place is subtle but
persistent. It seeps into one’s bones, as if to draw out one’s
lifeforce.

It’s the gentlest killing aura, one that even a body made of rock
cannot resist.

When in this place, a person would feel their body become heavy.
With just a dip in alertness, they would be pulled down by that
sensation of fatigue and listlessness.

Cheng Qian frowns. Where the heck is this place?

Shuang Ren is still by his side. Cheng Qian wriggles his frozen
fingers and realizes that the lance already transformed back into the
dragon spine. The dragon soul too returned to the True Dragon Flag,
which he is holding tightly in his hand.

Seeing that he still has the two most important things, he feels
somewhat assured.

Cheng Qian uses his arms to support himself as he rises up, but a
terrible burning sensation surges in his palm. It isn’t until this point
that he remembers he caught the ‘eye’ of the Demon Execution
Array with his hand.

However, when he raises his hand to have a look, there is no sign of

gruesome burn and injury like he imagined. There isn’t even a small
scratch.

This is really strange.

Cheng Qian recites a spell. White light flares from his palm. A crest
with a curved shape, which looks like an ear upon a closer look,
appears then goes away in the blink of an eye.

Besides the lingering sensation of burn and the strange crest, there
is nothing abnormal. Cheng Qian has to put it aside for the time
being.

As soon as he moves, the countless wounds on his back

immediately burst. He lets out a soft groan and tries to sit up to heal
himself, planning to settle this injury first before thinking of anything
else.

At that moment, Cheng Qian hears Yan Zhengming’s voice.

“You must not touch your spiritual energy,” Yan Zhenging is sitting a
good distance from him. His voice is a bit hoarse. “If I get it correctly,
we are at the bottom of the Abyss of the Heart Demon, near the
Tower of No Regret. Do you have any medicine for external injuries
with you?”

“No, I’m no traveller,” Cheng Qian uses the dragon spine as support
and stands up. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Sit where you are. Stop moving around,” Yan Zhengming
says, “The power of the Demon Execution Array was too much. We
summoned the divine dragon soul to break it. Then that dumbass
Han Yuan burnt the cursed peach blossoms. So “heavenly dragon”,
“earthly demon”, “humanly desire” were all there, which happened to
tear off a piece of the seal over the Tower of No Regret. We two
were close by, so we ended up here.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

This must be because they forgot to consult the calendar of fortune

before leaving home, so they have had nothing but bad luck.

As if to suppress something, Yan Zhengming takes a deep breath,

then exhales slowly but heavily. He says weakly in a small voice, “No
need to worry. Our Fuyao Sect has been guarding the Valley of Heart
Demon for many generations. I still have the Sect Leader seal with
me. It definitely contains the way to get out of here. Don’t recklessly
stir up your spiritual energy. Take care of the injuries by yourself
first.”

Cheng Qian’s injuries are mostly on his back, so the mortal healing
method would be very inconvenient. He moves his shoulders a bit.
Seeing that the injuries aren’t to the bones, he considers himself
lucky and ignores the matter.
The injuries on his own body don’t bother Cheng Qian. On the other
hand, he can sense that Yan Zhengming is acting strange. When
they were teenagers, he fought with some rogue cultivators and got
hit only once in the back with a demon vanquishing baton. After that
incident, his most senior brother was gung-ho about personally
treating his injuries. This time, after he was just cut up nearly into a
pulp by the Demon Execution Array, the tone is ‘take care of it
yourself’?

Cheng Qian stands up and approaches Yan Zhengming. “Senior

brother, what’s the matter?”

Yan Zhengming angrily growls, “Don’t come here!”

He yells so loudly that his voice is off. Cheng Qian hesitates a little,
then he decides to ignore it and strides forward.

Yan Zhengming curls up in a corner that is even darker than the

surrounding. Had it not been for a cultivator’s sharp sense, it would
be nearly impossible to find him. The darkness is like a veil over Yan
Zhengming’s features, but the demon of the heart’s mark, which
faded for a while, has reappeared on his forehead. The stark red of
the mark makes it stand out like a beautiful scar.

Astonished, Cheng Qian raises his hand to touch the mark. “This…
Are you affected by the Valley of the Heart Demon?”

Having nowhere else to hide, Yan Zhengming has no other choice

but closes his eyes and keeps his silence like an old monk immersed
in medication. If there weren’t the aggressive energy that seems
about to bite on his face, one may think he is really that.

As Cheng Qian comes near, Yan Zhengming’s eyebrows spasm, as

if he is in great pain.
In the end, he can’t resist it anymore and seizes Cheng Qian’s wrist.

Yan Zhengming’s grip is like a steel vise. His palm is so hot that it
seems to be burning. The demon of the heart’s mark becomes even
more vividly red, like a bloodstain.

Holding Cheng Qian’s hand, Yan Zhengming painfully curls into

himself. He speaks in a low voice, his tone like a sleep talker,
“Don’t… Cheng Qian… I beg you…”

Cheng Qian knows what ‘demon of the heart’ is, but this is the first
time he learns that a person can be tormented by their demon of the
heart to this extent.

So what on earth is in Yan Zhengming’s heart?

Cheng Qian carefully watches Yan Zhengming in silence for a while.

Though he feels it’s probably not nice to snoop like this, in the
present he can’t afford such niceties.

He thinks to himself, “Most senior brother, sorry.”

Then he gets his spiritual awareness to connect with the primordial

spirit piece inside the wooden sword.

The strange sensation of seeing two places at the same time

happens again, as Cheng Qian looks at Yan Zhengming’s ravaged
inner mind through the primordial spirit piece inside the wooden
sword. Spiritual energy swirls chaotically everywhere, which also
affects the sword energy. Had it not been for the strained protection
of the wooden sword, there is no telling what would happen.

The demon of the heart clings like black clouds to Yan Zhengming’s
primordial spirit, who is in the meditative stance with his eyes closed,
and viciously taunts him.
At that moment, Cheng Qian sees the face of the person in that
crimson demon of the heart and freezes on the spot.

The person in the heart demon is none other than Cheng Qian
himself.

Just a second later, the heart demon that has been swirling like black
smoke falls down and takes human form. As if sensing something,
that person looks at the wooden sword with a sarcastic expression,
which is familiar yet strange at the same time, then slowly walks
towards the sitting form of Yan Zhengming’s primordial spirit. The
person lightly kneels down and places his head on Yan Zhengming’s
lap.

Cheng Qian: “…”

This is the first time he sees ‘himself’ behave in such a flirtatious

manner, so he doesn’t know how he should react.

In Cheng Qian’s guise, the heart demon lifts Yan Zhengming’s chin
and watches him intently in silence for a moment. Seeing that Yan
Zhengming refuses to open his eyes, the heart demon laughs softly
and caresses the lips of the meditating primordial spirit with its pale
finger, whispering, “Senior Brother, why are you refusing to look at
me?”

In the outside world, the fingers of Yan Zhengming, which are still
holding onto Cheng Qian’s wrists, suddenly squeeze. A cracking
sound can be heard.

Cheng Qian withdraws his awareness with some difficulty. His heart
feels hollow as he half kneels on the ground.

He stays dazedly in that position for a long while, as his mind traces
back every symptom that he witnessed. He recalls his most senior
brother’s violent reaction in that little library, when he asked that
question in ignorance. Unbelievable.

“His demon of the heart is me?” Cheng Qian dazedly thinks, “It can’t
be.”

Yan Zhengming slumps, as blood seeps out from his mouth corner.

Cheng Qian comes back to his senses. He realizes that he can’t

leave Yan Zhengming in this state.

“Most senior brother,” Cheng Qian uses one hand to press Yan
Zhengming’s shoulder. He says in a soft voice, “Calm your spirit.
This is the Valley of the Heart Demon. You must not let it have the
chance to cause trouble.”

Hearing that, Yan Zhengming opens his eyes and dreamily stares at
Cheng Qian with a dazed expression.

Cheng Qian’s heart suddenly beats madly.

As if possessed, Cheng Qian asks in a low voice, “Senior Brother,

what exactly is your heart demon about?”

For a fleeting moment, he sees that Yan Zhengming’s lips move, and
the answer is about to come out.

Cold sweats break out on Cheng Qian’s back, causing his wounds to
be both painful and itchy. In all of his life, he has never experienced
so much tension.

In just a split second later, Yan Zhengming’s gaze becomes sober

again during the struggle. He lets go of Cheng Qian’s hand and
pushes him away to no avail.
Yan Zhengming can’t control his shaking hands after being
tormented by the heart demon. His fingers on Cheng Qian’s
shoulders slide through a sword cut on the arm and get stained by
the blood that has not completely dried up. Yan Zhengming hastily
takes his hands back. “You…”

Cheng Qian ignores his bleeding shoulders. His eyes become darker
than ink as the pain only spurs him on. He knows he shouldn’t act
like this but he can’t resist his boiling passion.

He presses closer to Yan Zhengming. “You know that the more you
try to hide, the bigger problem your heart demon becomes. Why
can’t you tell me? What do you have to hide?”

Yan Zhengming says, “Let go…”

Cheng Qian replies, “Senior brother!”

His eyes red, Yan Zhengming growls, “Cheng Qian, are you trying to
usurp…”

He can’t finish his line. Cheng Qian suddenly pins him onto the wall,
then kisses his still open lips like it’s something that must be done at
all cost.

That move blocks everything Yan Zhengming is about to say.

Cheng Qian is by nature someone who isn’t very knowledgeable

about affairs of the heart, much less desires of the body. He also
conscientiously stays away from all indecency, such that he dared
not even look closely into the fake Scripture of Serenity. His so-
called kiss isn’t even a kiss, just a faint touch like a dragonfly sliding
over the pond. However, it is like an explosion in Yan Zhengming’s
head that shakes his very soul.
With a gasp, Yan Chengming unconsciously tightens his grips on
Cheng Qian’s robe.

“Forgive my insolence, senior brother,” Cheng Qian is taut like a

bowstring, but from the outside, he still looks calm. Using the
reckless tone of a doomed man who is beyond all threats, he says,
“What are you going to do? Lock me up to make me repent?
Execute me according to sect rules? I won’t resist, I promise.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

This shock is so great that even the heart demon that has been
causing trouble is shaken too.

Having spoken out loud such outrageous, rebellious ideas, Cheng

Qian suddenly feels relieved. He doesn’t hold back anymore, and
holds Yan Zhengming’s hands that have been gripping his robe. “In
the Demon Execution Array, you asked me who I had romantic
entanglements with. Senior brother, I am telling you now. Do you
dare to hear it?”

At that moment, inside Yan Zhengming’s mind, the heart demon

once again takes Cheng Qian’s form. Embracing his primordial spirit
from behind, the heart demon whispers in his ear, “Senior brother, I
will grant you whatever you wish. Do you dare to want me?”

Being attacked from two sides, Yan Zhengming cannot tell which one
is the real anymore.

The heart demon in his mind gently caresses his primordial spirit
with its fingers and whispers, “Senior brother, I’ve been focussed on
my cultivation for a hundred years. Even heavenly tribulations
couldn’t make me waver. Now, all of that is ruined in your hand. Are
you happy?”
That line is like a bucket of ice poured right on his head. Mixed with
the relentless cold in the Valley of the Heart Demon, those words
seep into every part of his body.

His face white as a sheet, Yan Zhengming can’t find a reply.

The heart demon takes many tacks. There are times it smiles softly
and says, “Senior brother, you’ve wanted me for a long time. Why
are you pretending to be righteous now?” Other times it scolds him
coldly, “Sect Leader Yan, how immoral must you be to violate what is
under your watch?”. It even turns into Cheng Qian in his
adolescence with a gaping hole in the chest and mournfully looks at
Yan Zhengming, “Senior brother, didn’t you tell me not to worry about
anything, because you would take care of it?”

“Senior brother…”

Yan Zhengming’s body swings between extreme heat and extreme

cold. Sweats drench his forehead, as his eyes are red from
bloodshot.

Because Cheng Qian didn’t expect that his words could have such
an effect on his sect leader and senior brother, he is at a loss. Then
he notices the mark of the heart demon on Yan Zhengming’s
forehead, which is so red that it seems about to bleed.

Frowning a little, Cheng Qian once again takes advantage of the

piece of primordial spirit on the wooden sword and sends his
awareness into Yan Zhengming’s mind.

As soon as Cheng Qian gets in, he is shaken to the core. All of the
heart demons are taking his form, but wearing different expressions.
The thick black energy in the mind gets thicker and thicker, as it
hungrily absorbs the spiritual energy and creates even more
illusions.

In the beginning, Cheng Qian only feels a bit creeped out. It’s natural
to feel unsettled to see countless copies of oneself all in one place
like this. Then he hears what the heart demons are saying.

Cheng Qian’s gaze grows cold, as an unexplainable anger erupts in

his heart.

He waves his hand and calls up the wooden sword in Yan

Zhengming’s mind through the piece of his primordial spirit in it. The
wooden sword soars, covered in white frost, and attacks the heart
demons, causing them to quickly disperse.

The heart demons run away, but then gather and turn into a thick
black cloud, which stubbornly clings onto Yan Zhengming’s mind.

Yan Zhengming’s spiritual energy swirls around madly. A mouthful of

blood rises in his throat, which he unsteadily suppresses.

His mind, being clear for a moment, he resignedly says to Cheng

Qian, “Stop causing trouble.”

“I’m not causing trouble,” Cheng Qian looks at him with blazingly
bright eyes, “Most senior brother, as long as I’m not dead, I won’t
give up.”

Yan Zhengming frowns as he searches for words.

Cheng Qian suddenly looks away a little. A faint smile blooms on his
face. “If you kick me out of the sect, it’ll only be more convenient for
me.”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

He himself has had similar thoughts, that if he weren’t the sect
leader, if he could switch places with Cheng Qian, he would be able
to face the inappropriate feelings in his heart without guilt. Even if he
were kicked out of the sect, it’d be even better because the taboo no
longer applied. And now Cheng Qian unexpectedly speaks out loud
those same ideas.

He doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry at this kind of

‘resonance of minds’ situation.

However, after the initial shock, Yan Zhengming realises that

something is not right. Cheng Qian is only truly straight forward when
he fights. Otherwise, he is actually the secretive sort who keeps all of
his emotions and thoughts to himself. What he seems to reveal is
mostly a farce. Even if he is sincere, it’s only in his heart. He would
never just go and say it out loud like this.

Especially now, as they fell into the Valley of the Heart Demon and
still haven’t found a way out.

His mind now fully awakened and back to its usual speed, Yan
Zhengming suddenly recalls the strange frost on the wooden sword
in the Demon Execution Array. He immediately pushes aside
everything and asks forcefully, “What have you found out? Cheng
Qian, I ask you once again, what is inside that wooden sword.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

If he hadn’t seen with his own eyes the form the countless heart
demons in Yan Zhengming’s mind took, he would think that it was
just his delusion.

Yan Zhengming asks, “How did you imbue the wooden sword with
the Fuyao sword will?”
Cheng Qian, who has been talking so eloquently, can’t find anything
to say.

The two of them are in that push and pull state for a while. Feeling at
his limit, Yan Zhengming pushes Cheng Qian away and shakily
stands up.

Yan Zhengming says, “Well, keep your secret. I don’t care how you
found out. It’s just the demon of the heart. When a sword cultivator
enters the ‘divine realm’ level, they will be haunted by their hearts’
demons in every step. So what? I’ve come this far. Everything is still
within my control. You… there is no need for you to pity me.”

Cheng Qian is speechless. He suddenly wants to crack open his

most senior brother’s pretty but useless head to see if the inside has
been chewed up into scraps by the heart demon.

Glancing at him, Yan Zhengming takes from his robe a marble seal
the size of a thumb. As he closes his hand around the seal, it gives
off a soft white light that brightens the gloomy abyss inside the Valley
of the Heart Demon. He turns his back to Cheng Qian and assumes
a jovial tone. “I won’t squabble with you today. Let’s go. We’ll find a
way out…”

Cheng Qian suddenly hugs him from behind. Yan Zhengming’s back
stiffens. As soon as he is about to yell at Cheng Qian, he hears
Cheng Qian says through gritted teeth, “You’re a spoiled brat who is
only good at preening and causing trouble. Who can be bothered to
pity you? I like you! I want you! What else do I have to say?”
 LY 85

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This chapter was suggested by an Advisor Donor. I will be using the same terms that rustycol used in their translation for ease of
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I’m just now re-discovering that none of the chapters have names, so I guess I’ll go screw myself in that department.

I’ve been suggested to go until 92. Hit ToC for links to where all previous chapters can be found. Enjoy!]

Human life had no roots, floating like dust over footpaths.

Dispersed bit by bit by revolving wind, here, the self was already ever-
changing.[1]

Upon entering the gate of immortals, could the mundane world be stood
apart from?

With divine capabilities, could all be done as one’s heart desired?

Someone with the mighty power to overturn the skies, as Tong Ru had
been; where had his soul returned to, now?

Beyond that was them, these juniors that were at a loss, comprehending
nothing.

Yan Zhengming had never spoken with Tong Ru, but he had always held a
faint grudge towards his disciple grandfather. Sometimes, he wouldn’t be
able to resist thinking that if Tong Ru hadn’t meddled so much or made
anything like the Hall of Initiation, he wouldn’t have drawn in the envies of
others, nor been dragged into the Three Lives Mystic Site.
Even going in the Site, if he hadn’t been so extreme, so believing in
prophecy, had some self-complacency, hadn’t been so willful, had listened
to his friend’s urging, or hadn’t had so many improper thoughts…

Maybe their Master wouldn’t have died, let alone fallen into the degraded
corpse of a weasel.

The Fuyao Sect wouldn’t have totally, irrevocably collapsed, either.

Their few would be just like those talentless, idiot disciples of White Tiger
Estate, their cultivation base being just a bit, and their consciences being
only a bit, too, having never seen more than a glimpse of the world; they
would inevitably be bungling things up whenever going out to do tasks,
where a couple of demonic cultivators could then mess with them into
turning around in circles.

No one would be calling him ‘Sect Leader’, nor ‘Senior’. He would only be
a Most Senior Brother that wasn’t particularly worthy of respect.

However, he was also the one that understood Tong Ru the most. Within the
Sect Leader Seal, he had walked Tong Ru’s path many times over again,
and each time he had looked back, he would tremble with apprehension for
a long time, clutching the Seal in hand. Like treading upon an abyss, like
approaching thin ice, he hadn’t dared to be relaxed for one moment, always
reminding himself to learn from another’s example, and never walk in the
trailing dust of his sectly grandfather.

He wanted tranquility, wanted freedom, wanted less desire, wanted open-

mindedness…

Yet, at this moment, he heard the sound of Cheng Qian’s heartbeat coming
from behind him, and all of his ill-feelings towards Tong Ru suddenly
vanished like smoke.

If ‘improper thoughts’ could be suppressed, then how?

The dam he had long been forging in his heart was like a pile of sand,
assuming a precariously impressive appearance, yet made to crumble apart
with one finger. If there was never such a moment in one’s life, where they
felt like the world was turning on its head and were delighted to be crushed
apart in body, even though they would be soaring up and into the Great Dao
— what fun could there be said to be in that?

What are you waiting for? a voice in his mind asked. Will you be like that
idiot Tong Ru, waiting until seas dry up and rocks decompose, until yin and
yang separate?

Yan Zhengming clasped Cheng Qian’s hands that were overlapping in front
of him, then gently pried his arms apart. Within the dark, he turned around
to stare at the other’s face, restraining himself into a hushed voice. “Do you
have any idea how irrational this is? Or how this violates the law of
Heaven, the proper way human relations go?”

Cheng Qian’s face remained unchanged. “Master told me to be free.”

“But he didn’t tell you to be self-indulgent! If you indulge in the seven

emotions and six desires, are you not afraid that when you ascend, that
heavenly tribulation will smite you into paste?”

“What sort of path will you fit in with, then, getting ensnared by a demon of
the heart?”

Yan Zhengming had nothing to answer with.

Cheng Qian watched him. “Senior brother, I’m not afraid of tribulations,”
he said, word by word. “Only you.”

Upon hearing this, Yan Zhengming thought, with a rumbling in his heart,
It’s over. There’s no coming back from this.

He stood there mutely for a long while, as if roots had grown beneath his
soles. The flower of his heart had never been in full bloom, instead having
senselessly gained an indescribable, incomprehensible sense of sorrow.

“Xiao Qian.” He gave a final struggle. “Don’t regret this later.”

Cheng Qian lightly sighed, looking at him powerlessly. “Wipe your tears off
before anything else, senior brother.”

“Come here.” Yan Zhengming reached out and pulled Cheng Qian over. His
expression was much too taut, looking somewhat bizarrely cold.

He thought, bearing similar coldness, I’ve let you down, Xiao Qian.

After that, he captured the back of Cheng Qian’s head, leaned over, and
kissed him. He had wanted to merely dabble in this and then stop, yet ended
up being unable to help himself.

Cheng Qian let out an mmph and tilted his head back a bit on instinct, but
he was solidly caged by a pair of arms. He felt that his entire being was
being encased by that familiar scent of orchids. He was a little shocked, at
the onset; this was the first time he had ever experienced such a thing, and it
was a bit strange and uncomfortable, but once he remembered who the one
before him was, that shallow sense of strangeness abruptly changed in
sensation.

This suddenly-arising, peculiar intimacy caused both his scalp and middle
to go numb, his vertebra stiffening into a wooden club. The thousand zhang
of the mortal world’s red dust, which he had long heard the name of yet had
never seen the true look of, began to bundle him up tight. All of a sudden,
an unfamiliar agitation sprouted in his heart; throat dry, he swallowed
involuntarily, getting the sense that it was his turn to recite from the
Scripture of Serenity.

Yan Zhengming embraced him dispassionately, thinking, I’ve also… let you
down, Master.

The inner demon’s mark between his brows unwittingly morphed into an
unadulterated cinnabar color, after which it harvested a drop of blood, then
sunk into his forehead, vanishing without a trace. The Sect Leader Seal on
his chest started to emitted white, eye-stinging light.

He abruptly snapped out of it. Unsure of what wrong meds the Seal had
taken again, he placed his forehead onto Cheng Qian’s shoulder, closing his
eyes. “Let’s leave. This isn’t a good place to stay in.”

Cheng Qian sized him up with a weird face, still out of sorts. “Is this
everything you learned from that sham Scripture?”

For the very first time, he was distinctly aware that the things his dignified
senior knew about seemed to be too much.

Yan Zhengming nearly felt pain as he breathed, casually wiping off the
stains of blood and filth from his hands onto Cheng Qian’s sleeve. “Shut
up.”

The exploding light of the Seal was seen to cast upon the ground,
constructing into the shape of a feather. While white light twinkled within
it, the feather gently trembled, appearing to point in a direction ahead.

Yan Zhengming slightly lifted the shining little sealstone up in his hand,
following the lead the plumage had set. “Keep up.”

By means of the light, Cheng Qian saw that his face had regained its color,
and his heart relaxed some. “By the way, your—“

“No way! No how!” Yan Zhengming interrupted. “Don’t even dream about
it! I already burned that evil book!”

“…I was trying to ask what you meant by your phrase of, ‘sword cultivators
get heart demons at every step.’ What were you thinking of?”

Sect Leader Yan, who had been using his own self to measure another, then
discovered that not everyone was as fond of following poor examples as he
was, and was immediately so embarrassed, he was too afraid to even turn
his head. Giving a dry cough, his voice automatically got slightly weaker.
“Sword cultivation has considerable ruthless and murderous qi. In early
phases, there’s heavy discipline on the body with light cultivation of the
mind, making those not prominent in the beginning, but the further it goes,
the easier it is to get inner demons. That is what Master explained to me
when I entered the sect; ‘With identical base and realm, sword cultivation is
top-tier upon first setting out. In consequence, this road is also especially
difficult to walk, its practice further challenging, and even further painful.”

Upon saying this, the corner of his mouth, which had been flat all this time,
finally showed a tiny, indistinct smile. “When I heard that, my first reaction
was to plead with him to destroy my qi sense, deciding not to do sword
cultivation and determined to switch to another path to go down.”

He rarely ever brought up the past on his own. Cheng Qian listened quietly,
feeling like these words were ones his senior needed to speak of.

“After that, he scared me with saying that my qi sense could be gotten rid
of, but the process would be no different than rolling in a bed of nails, or
into a pot of oil. Many would not escape that boiling, simply dying with
their legs kicked out, and then everything would be done with. There would
be no need to care about how you entered the Dao.” He laughed at himself.
“I actually believed his lies, then did some evaluating. The path of sword
cultivation would make one be in so much pain, they wouldn’t want to be
alive, but it would still be better than literally dying. I had no choice but to
compromise.”

Cheng Qian focused his sights on his back. In the wake of his voice, he
couldn’t help but think back to the scene of when he had first seen Yan
Zhengming.

Land of Tenderness had had a heavier yao aura than the group in the Valley
of the Yao, and alongside that current of yao energy, he had gotten his first
glimpse of his most senior brother. At the time, he had thought, He really is
good looking.

Though, the very next moment, those thoughts had changed. He really isn’t
anything at all.

“Then, what’s happening to you…” Cheng Qian gently rubbed the space
between his own brows with a hand. “When did it start?”

Yan Zhengming was quiet for a minute. “I’m not sure.”

Had it been Vermilion Bird Tower? Or the previous Fuyao Estate? Or, in
that span of a hundred years of isolation… or even on Azure Dragon Island,
when he had been young and vapid?

Perfunctorily pondering like so, he felt like there were a million loose
threads that he couldn’t wrap his head around, a heart that had never before
thumped already being moved.

He looked at Cheng Qian, a hundred feelings mixing inside him, and then
went to fix his messy bangs. “I’m not sure,” he answered softly. “Don’t
ask.”

Willing to follow his advice, Cheng Qian turned the topic around. “And I’m
not sure how long we’ve been trapped here. How is Tai Yin Mountain
doing?”

“The Celestial Divination Bureau is in dire straits. Han Yuan is also likely
an arrow at the end of his flight. Nobody can care about anyone else, and
after that Demon Execution Array, the Bureau probably doesn’t have any
follow-up moves.”

Cheng Qian was quiet. He hadn’t known as much before, so he hadn’t

clearly understood, only doing so after witnessing a bout for himself. If
there hadn’t been a Bureau revolt where the array method had secretly been
switched out, if they hadn’t coincidentally gotten swept up in it, if Li Yun
hadn’t coincidentally been holding a True Dragon Flag… then nobody
would have been able to break the array single-handedly.

Wu Changtian laying down a trap outside of Fuyao Mountain hadn’t only

been to cripple Han Yuan’s fighting power. It had been a counter.

Now that the Array was ruined, there were probably no further steps the
Bureau could take to obstruct Han Yuan. He would go straight to Tai Xing
Mountain and massacre to the last a bunch of cultivators that didn’t know
their own strengths and would vainly attempt to block his path, following
which he would go up North to the capital, then take his revenge upon the
Bureau, and the mortals of the Dynasty…
“Death wouldn’t absolve the Bureau of its crimes,” Yan Zhengming said.
“The one who sits upon the Dragon Chair in the capital… I don’t believe
he’s mortal at all. Each day, he self-proclaims himself to be long-lived;
could he tolerate the ‘splendor’ of several decades of himself getting old
and dying with grayed hairs, watching on as the trifling Divination Bureau
stretches on into forever? There’s no way.”

“Cultivators aren’t to get involved in secular matters; that’s a fundamental

convention. The insignificant events of the mortal world are liable to
distract the mind, and unless one’s aptitude is at its peak, their cultivation
practice will inevitably be hindered. How can he play as Emperor, and also
think to live unaging forever?”

“The imperial family has plenty of money and means. However many
martial techniques and alchemical pills it wants is how many it’ll get, and if
practice can’t be achieved, they can just take medicine. Besides, didn’t you
hear Wu Changtian’s implication? The Bureau is definitely controlled by
someone in the Dynasty. How could they, those fake high-and-mighties that
feel themselves to be incomparably righteous and see human lives as
wildgrass, be controlled by a mortal? In any case, who knows what they’re
even doing. They’re no hindrance to us, but Han Yuan leading a group of
demons up North is certain to be a grave slaughter — when the time comes,
will we kill him, or no?”

Right then, Yan Zhengming stopped in his tracks. His gaze followed after a
single direction, and he saw a burst of faint light apparently coming from
there.

The guiding white feather led directly into those rays. After walking
towards the source for about an incense stick’s worth of time, the field of
view suddenly opened into a wide clearing.

A flight of stone stairs leapt up before the eyes.

Steps tiering above would typically be set for a mountain or a building, but
for these, there was nothing. Layer after later of them gathered in midair,
looking to pass through to the sky, the top unable to be seen at first look.
Cheng Qian sensed the true essence inside him seem to become subdued by
some unknown force, genuinely morphing him into a mortal for the time
being. Standing below the stairs, he was like an insect — so insignificant,
he was nothing.

“This is…”

Yan Zhengming furrowed his brow. “It looks to be the Tower of No

Regrets.”

The Tower’s height was one-hundred-and-eight-thousand steps. Here, all

who flew to the Heavens to escape the Earth were akin to mortals, and had
to ascend step by step themselves. This was the first time Cheng Qian had
known what it was to tilt his head back until his neck broke; average people
would be feeling dread just from looking upward alone, to say nothing of
going up there in person.

Yan Zhengming took a probing step up, but before he could stand steady, a
gust of strong wind came rising up head-on. By the time he reacted to his
body-protecting primordial qi being gone, the wind was already closing in
on him. He quickly pulled back a step, flipping off of the stone, but in spite
of his agile movements, one of his sleeves was still cut apart by the wind.

How had Tong Ru gotten up there?!

The two of them were alarmed at heart. I was thinking that our sect-
grandfather was overall inscrutable, Yan Zhengming thought, but I didn’t
expect him to be this inscrutable!

Cheng Qian just thought back to his not-many encounters with Lord
Beiming. He had still been young at the time, and hadn’t noticed how
formidable the man had been. Only now did he discover the chasm-like gap
between them.

While in his trance, Yan Zhengming suddenly pat his ear. Cheng Qian jolted
back to his senses.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the other said. “When he came out of the
Mystic Site, he was already in qi deviation. A madman isn’t the same as a
typical person. You cannot walk down the road he did, and that’s not
necessarily because of how formidable he was.”

He lowered his head to glance down at his own sleeve, smiling. “This is a
true-made cut-sleeve… the Tower of No Regrets is quite abnormal. We
mustn’t stay here for much longer.”

Cheng Qian hung one hand by his side, lightly tapping on Shuang Ren’s
scabbard. “If you… you were to ascend the Tower, would you request
something of the Wish Granting Stone?”

You really had to ask, Yan Zhengming thought.

If the obsession of his heart hadn’t coincided with Tong Ru’s, how could his
spiritual awareness have adhered to the man’s form inside the Seal?

If he didn’t know what it felt like to qi deviate, why would he stubbornly

bring up his own cultivation base at the Immortal Binding Platform, directly
barging in regardless of the consequences?

None of that would be suitable to mention to Cheng Qian, of course.

Yan Zhengming, who was the type to say one thing and do another, lectured
him in an upright manner. “Of course not. Sorrows, joys, separations,
reunions, the twelve phases of the moon — those are all commonplace in
the mortal realm. Since you have not yet ascended to immortality, you are
still mortal. If you know yourself, you should understand that as you are a
physical body born of mortal womb, there is no way that everything can go
as your heart wants. Inevitably, there will be times where powers cannot be
achieved, and not getting what you seek doesn’t mean you can’t practice
cultivation. If the extreme of perfection is sought after in everything, you
definitely couldn’t last for long.”

How very pretentious…

Cheng Qian didn’t answer. He tilted his head down to smile, but still got
caught by Yan Zhengming’s keenness.

“What are you smiling at?”

“At your lecturing being nicer to hear than your singing,” Cheng Qian
disclosed, not sparing his feelings, nor dignity. “I’m unsure of who exactly
was just trapped in a heart demon, unable to get out of it.”

“…I’m not going to bicker with you so shut up right now.” Yan Zhengming
turned around, stood two paces apart from him, and hung the unspoken
latter half of his words amidst his features: ‘Hurry up and scramble to
apologize.’

Cheng Qian said nothing for a short time, mentally saying, How could
encouraging a temper like this ever amount to anything good?

Immediately after that, he just inwardly shook his head. Ah, nevermind.
Hasn’t he always acted like this?

“Okay, Mister Senior Brother, be magnanimous. Your talking and singing

are equally nice to hear,” he thus said, cupping his hands half-assedly. “By
the way, if this is the backside of Fuyao Mountain, can we return from
here?”

“You need to think better,” Sect Leader Yan replied, like a big-tailed wolf.
“Fuyao Mountain is Fuyao Mountain, Heart Demon Valley is Heart Demon
Valley. The two may neighbor each other, but they didn’t get sealed up
together… hah?”

Right as he said that, he noticed that there was a door behind the Tower, and
his words momentarily became stuck. What an unlucky crow’s beak that I
have, for what I just said to smack me in the face, he thought. We won’t
actually be able to get through, right?

The guiding feather fluttered, landed upon that door, and disappeared. The
door had a minuscule groove upon it, which was exactly the same shape as
the Sect Leader Seal.
Yan Zhengming tentatively removed the Seal from himself, then carefully
inserted it into the groove. They fit snugly together, as if they had been one
to begin with.

In that moment, an ear-splitting rumble sounded out. A large stone door of

about ten zhang in height showed itself, then slowly opened.

Three wooden plaques suddenly flew out of it, each separately engraved
with the characters of ‘Heaven’, ‘Earth’, and ‘Human’. Yan Zhengming had
wanted to grab one, but as soon as he reached out for the ‘Heaven’ plaque,
the other two shifted like they were going to withdraw. This meant that only
one out of the three could be chosen.

“If I choose the ‘Heaven’ plaque, will we be able to ascend to the Heavens
straightaway?” Yan Zhengming smiled. “Would you choose it?”

Cheng Qian didn’t make a peep, looking at him with a bit of a smile. Seeing
this, Yan Zhengming mumbled uneasily, “Quit tempting me all the time.”

With that, he selected the ‘Human’ one without thought, only to hear a
click. The Sect Leader Seal came loose from the door on its own, then went
straight back to his neck. The wooden plaque began to blaze with white
light in the next second, and the nearby Tower and stone door became
distant in their entirety. Like time itself was before them, countless people
and voices flashed past in a cacophony.

From the completion of the name ‘Fuyao’, ancient stone tablets established
a legacy of thousands and thousands of years. The nine-floor Library Tower
was created, then set upon the ground. Footprints large, small, fat, and thin
gradually flickered at the entryway, either as shallow as light gauze or set
deep into the stone, after which they all faded away into nothing. Only the
vegetation edging the secluded mountain pools, year after year, gradually
became a wave of green.

The cold sea and mulberry fields, fallen beneath the fine rain and light
breeze that had not changed for ages, were the only things eternal in this
cycle of prosperity and withering.
This was the path of humanity, the middle of the three realms.

The translator says: I’ve pretty much never touched a xianxia/cultivation novel in my life, but let’s McFreakin’ do this. (Also, I
hope ‘Mister Senior Brother’ was as stupid to read as ‘shixiong-daren’ was for me to see lmao)

[1] From a poem of the same name as the first line, by Tao Yuanming. (Not my favorite full version, but here’s one.)
 LY 86

[If you’re not reading this on chichilations, then you’re reading a stolen copy. Reposts are not allowed anywhere or for any
reason!
Links for mobile viewers: Ko-fi Donation — Chichi’s Twitter — Project Index — Digital Version Library
I see all your likes and comments~ Thanks in advance~

This chapter was suggested by an Advisor Donor.

Remember when I said I was suggested to go until 92? Nevermind, I was re-suggested to go until 100.
Remember when I said that I was going to match rustycol’s terms? Semi-nevermind, because I’ve been cross-referencing those
constantly, and they’re not… super consistent. I will at least try, but it’s never going to be exactly the same.]

Beneath their feet, a massive array spread out like a slowly-igniting fire
beacon. A sigh, coming from who-knew-where, was in their ears.

Cheng Qian was stunned. “This looks like the one Han Yuan drew outside
of Fuyao Mountain that one day.”

“Shh…” Yan Zhengming raised a hand and covered Cheng Qian’s eyes.
“Listen carefully.”

The demonic cultivator that had arranged the array once said that this one’s
name was the ‘Mountain-Hearing Array’. What could be heard, then?

The depths of the darkness first emitted the fragmented cries of insects,
followed by the understated sound of water, wind blowing past the
grasslands, someone seemingly turning over nearby…

“This seems to be the back of the mountain,” Yan Zhengming whispered.

On the grass beside a secluded pool near a mountain cave, a few youths had
carried a little thing that was maybe human, maybe yao. Suffering dually
from cold and hunger in wait for their Master, they had dozed off
unwittingly, and once they had opened their eyes, half-awake in their daze,
this had been the exact noise that had poured into their ears.
In turn, the wind passed through a bamboo forest, the fragrance of its leaves
seemingly about to come at one’s call. The thin bamboo shaft of a brush
rapped a stone table, producing a crisp and slightly revolving sound. The
instant next, there was a flapping noise, as if a paper was getting lifted up
by the breeze, yet not wafted far away. Something was apparently holding it
down by a corner, making it so that it only made noise non-stop.

This was Qing’an Dwelling.

Neither of them made a peep, quietly listening for a long time. They seemed
to go in a circle around Fuyao Mountain, all the way until the the array
under them dimmed, its final trace of light vanishing into the blackness.

So, Han Yuan had secretly come to the foot of the Mountain that day, and
aggressively laid down a dangerous-looking array… just to hear the sounds
of Fuyao?

Cheng Qian wasn’t sure what emotions were in his heart for a moment.

Then, the hand covering the sights before him was put down. Yan
Zhengming grasped the shining sealstone in his palm, and their
surroundings promptly went black. Inside the dark, a white figure was seen
to abruptly walk out, a wooden sword held in his hand. Not far from them,
he haughtily performed an ancient rite, lifting his hand to draw out a Fuyao
Wooden Sword-initiating gesture.

What was the meaning of this?

The man demonstrated the beginning of the Wooden Sword where he stood,
disregarding anyone else.

At the start, he was a teen in an outfit of plain white clothing. As the

Wooden Sword advanced layer by layer, move by move, his countenance
gradually morphed into that of an adult’s, the wooden sword he held
transformed into a prismatic blade dripping with cold light, and the clothing
on him turned into graceful brocade robes.
Every form of his every motion was similar to what their Master had taught,
but there were some unclear areas of subtle difference.

By the time one endless set of Wooden Sword techniques was over, the
sword-dancer had since become an old man, his brocade robes had become
plain white clothing once again, and his precious sword had turned into an
edgeless wooden one once again. He hung his sword with pensive eyes, the
type of tranquility about him being from one that could see through the red
dust of the world.

His set of swordplay had been as snugly satisfying as the flow of water.
Both of them were practitioners of the sword, with Yan Zhengming being a
sword cultivator in particular, so they could naturally make out the depths
therein. Respectively shocked for a moment, neither had the mind to say
anything.

The next instant, the elder in white suddenly lifted his head, then stabbed
his sword at them.

Cheng Qian shoved Yan Zhengming away, and they came three chi apart.
The wooden sword pierced through the air in the middle, frigid sword wind
paring off a strand of disheveled hair that was hanging at Cheng Qian’s
shoulder.

After that, in the blink of an eye, it vanished, and two elders in white
instead appeared on-scene. They floated in, feet not touching the ground,
and immediately separated the other two.

When Yan Zhengming misstepped in his dodge, his entire person sunk into
darkness, and promptly disappeared.

Cheng Qian suffered a fright. “Senior brother!”

His true essence was being firmly repressed into his inner sanctum, making
him temporarily no different than a mortal. Shuang Ren, which had
frequently been able to link up with his state of mind before this, suddenly
became incomparably stagnant. He used all of his effort to draw it out and
block, but the elder’s wooden sword seemed to be pressing down with all
the strength of Mount Tai, numbing his wrist. Adding that onto the
exceeding strangeness of this situation, Cheng Qian instinctively retreated.

That retreat didn’t matter, though, as Shuang Ren immediately showed

signs of backlashing. The fierce, ungrateful sword hadn’t acted up in many
years, so he had nearly forgotten what a piece of shit it was.

The old man’s second move was already on its way over. Cheng Qian had
to grit his teeth and intercept the maneuver again, not allowed to take half a
step away.

The pressure on his hands was getting greater and greater, like the sky had
collapsed and was pressing down upon his shoulders.

His human strength was ultimately not holding up well, and, combined with
this unforgiving sword plus disallowance to retreat, his arms ended up
shaking, wrists making soft cracking sounds from where they were stuck, as
if his tendons were spraining. He forcefully started battering with his true
essence that had been sealed inside his qi sea, and it incessantly charged
against his inner sanctum; frost flashed past his eyes again and again, yet
was further rigidly stifled back down again and again, too.

He was anxious to find Yan Zhengming, and didn’t want to wrangle with
this old man mortal-style one bit. He suffered a bout of befuddlement at
once, flying a kick at his counterpart’s abdomen.

Unexpectedly, his foot kicked emptiness. The elder himself was just an
apparition, the sword he held alone being real.

Upon stepping on air, the strength in his arms was lost, and the old one’s
wooden sword viciously pounded into his chest, for true this time. Had his
physical form not fully tempered the Spirit-Collecting Jade, this strike could
have broken a row of his ribs.

He choked and coughed a few times, feeling half of his body go numb from
the hit. All of the wounds on his back that had stopped bleeding now split
open.
The elder looked at him mutely, dead indifference suffusing his turbid eyes.
Holding his wooden sword up level, he pointed it at his chest, and for a
moment, the only surrounding sound was Cheng Qian’s slightly rough
panting.

All of a sudden, the old man opened his mouth. “You want to walk the ‘path
of humanity’, with that reckless mentality of yours?”

Cheng Qian had been of the mind to beat this guy into a flour sack, but
when he heard that, his actions stopped. “Senior, you’re…”

“Take the blows, talk less drivel!” The man swept his sword all the way
back horizontally, then put the ‘Peak’ in ‘Decline from the Peak’, his
wooden sword slashing out a long arc akin to a full moon.

Were this to land, his True Jade would likely be shattered.

Cheng Qian dared not take this lightly, nor did he dare to stubbornly
contend with him, slightly pressed as he stepped once forwards to avoid that
edge. Recalling with difficulty the spell of breakaway moves he had studied
when his cultivation base had been humble, he hurriedly fell back onto the
‘Subtlety’ maneuver of identical style.

‘Subtlety’ concentrated on the concept of ‘wind picking up from the tips of

duckweeds’; that meant that when something was at its peak, there would
actually have long been roots of disaster buried within it, where those roots
and that brightly-blooming situation strengthened up together, ultimately
becoming a turning point of going from prosperity to decline. The move
was variable and extraordinarily low-key, inharmonious with Cheng Qian’s
habitual category of Tide Swordplay, as well as the overbearing qi mixed in
with it — he quickly strained himself enacting it, causing his movements to
automatically slow a bit.

That slowness could be described as a hairsbreadth of mistake cheating him

out of a thousand li of distance. The webs of his hands numbed, and Shuang
Ren clanged as it was sent flying by the wooden sword!

“…”
He had studied the blade since of the age of ten until now, Shuang Ren
having swept across the world. It had never before been humiliated in this
way.

The man in white stared at him expressionlessly. Doing some motion with
his hand, Shuang Ren, laying on the ground, soared up to come before
Cheng Qian. “Get up.”

Cheng Qian’s fingers tightened.

“Idiot,” the elder spoke once more.

About to crush his own fingers into pieces, Cheng Qian grabbed Shuang
Ren, and then the elder leapt straight up. In an instant, millions of sword
copies whistled past his face, dense as rain at spring’s onset; there was no
possibility of escape, nor of defense.

This was actual Subtlety!

Cheng Qian’s pupils constricted, suddenly becoming aware that the other
was apparently teaching him. He looked on, dumbstruck, for a moment,
until that wooden sword ripped through those inexhaustible mirages to stop
perfectly straight under the tip of his nose.

“Have you never properly learned the sword before?” the old man asked.
“Who is your Master?”

Cheng Qian paused, beyond his control.

Muchun Zhenren had indeed instructed him for no more than over a year,
then quickly transferred the entire Fuyao Wooden Sword skillset to him at
the Valley of No Sorrow, counting on little else other than his cleverness
and highly-retentive memory as a child. Afterwards, the sect’s list of moves
had basically been written out from his memory, with their most senior
brother amending areas of discrepancy.

Now that he thought about it, he had noted those in his head in a rush, while
also knowing little about them. Had they necessarily been correct?
Had the sloppy, off-kilter swordplay said senior brother had learned as a
child actually managed to amend anything?

“Our Master died when we had barely entered the sect,” Cheng Qian quietly
explained.

The other furrowed his brows.

“Before he reached his end, he used his primordial spirit to demonstrate

Fuyao Wooden Sword to me,” he respectfully said, suppressing his temper.
“I was in a rush, and there’s probably some areas I didn’t recall clearly—“

His words were interrupted by a cold huff. The old man got even more
obviously angry upon hearing this, for some reason. He waved his wooden
sword around, swatting it on Cheng Qian’s shoulder over and over again,
berating him on repeat. “Idiot! Idiot!”

Cheng Qian had never before been affixed with so many labels of ‘idiot’ in
his life. He really had no way to argue, however — who could fit them
better than he?

Faced with a senior of his own sect, even if the other said that he had a
seven-orificed chamberpot for a head, he was obliged to listen.

The elder kept hopping about on his feet for a minute, and then his form
suddenly changed; with one turn around, he transformed into the image of
that middle-aged man in brocade robes, another Peak move rippling
outward.

Cheng Qian’s scalp prickled. When this senior had put on the appearance of
an old man, his utilization of Decline from the Peak’s swordstyle had been
ruthless, yet more inclined towards the ‘Decline’ part, and had rather lacked
momentum. In his appearance of a middle-aged man, though, that wooden
sword had changed into an unnamed, high-quality sword, which precisely
matched up with Peak’s swordwill, its might unable to be spoken of in the
same breath.
Innumerable thoughts revolved around Cheng Qian’s mind in the span of a
second. After mulling over Subtlety, which the elder had just glossed over,
from start to finish once through, he toughened up his hide to execute the
move once again.

And he got it!

Yet, before he had time to rejoice, the man had hoisted his sword up with no
further word, then flipped his entire body up into the air. From his high
vantage point, he hacked downwards — this was the changed form of Peak!

Cheng Qian’s pupils quickly shrank. The next instant, he discovered that the
restriction on his true essence had been cleared, which frantically circulated
inside his qi sea from being confined for so long. Shuang Ren softly buzzed
in his hand, and then immediately separated into eight sword copies for a
fight at close quarters…

He didn’t wait for his opponent to switch maneuvers, and went ahead to the
first step of entering Subtlety’s freezing, frost-like swordwill, which flooded
into every crevice of the entire space, leaving no indictators, yet being
omnipresent. The man’s third Peak wave swiftly came, and their two
currents of true essence collided in mid-air, creating an immense, earth-
shaking sound.

His senior didn’t stay his hand, continuously chopping down with sixteen
moves of Peak, which got trickier and more dangerous with each
consecutive strike.

For the first time, Cheng Qian had truly grasped Subtlety’s swordwill. That
initially somewhat sluggish and rough swordplay became increasingly
proficient, and Shuang Ren raised aloft its sky-filling sword copies,
spreading out over all the air in a way that caused one to shudder. For a
moment, it was equivalent in efficacy to the Demon Extermination Array.

What a shame that the stronger he got, the stronger his counterpart got, too,
eventually draining his energy.
At the sixteenth move’s arrival, Shuang Ren came out his hand once again,
tumbling in a sorry state on the ground. Cheng Qian forced in a breath,
swayed unsteadily for a minute, and then fell right into a half-kneel, barely
managing to support himself off the ground on his arms.

The man looked down upon him as he held his sword against his neck. “Do
you know where you made a mistake?” he asked coldly.

Heartbeat like thunder for a time, Cheng Qian did not respond.

“‘Subtlety’ is the most difficult move of Fuyao Wooden Sword,

unpredictable and all-encompassing. Yours was a load of crap before, but in
wink, you’ve already gotten skilled at it. With that aptitude, why do you
prefer to delve into the swordplay of another school? Reckless!”

Were he to have said that his mindset had just been a bit reckless from
concern over Yan Zhengming, Cheng Qian would have admitted to it. But,
the strenuous effort he had put in for so many years had never been a single
bit inferior to anyone else’s, and with his new lease on life, he had never
been more carefree than anyone else… his natural talent set aside for the
time being, he did not regard himself as a reckless person at all.

Thus, he defended himself. “I—“

The corners of the man’s mouth lifted up, exposing a stiff smile as he cut
him off. “It’s because you think that Fuyao Wooden Sword isn’t the right
path for you, yes? It goes down the ‘path of humanity’. From life unto
death, from youth unto age, there are millions and millions of average
people in this world who cannot break away from this trajectory. There’s
nothing a bit strange about that. You believe yourself to be an exception
that’s different from those average people, right?”

“…”

Thinking back on it, when others had been newborn calves unafraid of
tigers, still having brilliant and infinite prospects for the future, he had
considered himself to have already matured early, and lost his youthful
heart. When others had been searching all about, at a loss as to what the
path ahead was, he had considered himself to have already been after a
clear aim, walking far ahead of them. When others had undergone all sorts
of struggles and had things go contrary to their will, he had run amok in the
world, long being afraid of nothing. When others had longed for
Heavenwards ascent, searching in every way possible yet never receiving
what they had wanted, he had willingly walked upon the ‘path of
humanity’.

He had never bragged about himself, but his self-importance, hidden deep
inside his subconsciousness, had caused him to never associate any move of
Fuyao Wooden Sword with himself.

The varying swordwills inside the Wooden Sword, in his view, had always
been partitioned from him by a layer of something, as if he barely had a
surface-level understanding of the lives and luck of others, having never
genuinely felt as much before.

“You looked at the Heavens and Earth, then at yourself and at others, yet
refused to compare yourself to them. Are you not human? Since you have
selected the ‘path of humanity’, why are you unwilling to let go of that
impressive, yet impractical mindset towards the Heavens and Earth?

“How one treats people wholly depends on their closeness and distance.
Who they are moved by, who they put up with, who they are close to, who
they love… have you ever revered anyone? Looked up to anyone? Taken
anyone as an example?”

Speaking up to there, he abruptly pressed the tip of his sword down, its
sharp edge painfully cutting Cheng Qian’s neck open. “Teenagers don’t
know how big the world is: arrogant, wild, reckless, self-important. I can
see that you’re not a teenager, yet your personality hasn’t made much
progress from one.”

A coat of cold sweat formed on Cheng Qian’s back.

“If you truly were outstanding and thoroughly comprehended Fuyao

Wooden Sword on your own initiative, why can’t you perform even a move
such as Subtlety? Stand up!” the man yelled angrily. “Practice isn’t yet
concluded! What are you playing dead for?!”

At the very start, his thoughts were difficult to settle, one day elongating
into one year. He was not worried about Yan Zhengming being with him
here, instead starting to worry about Li Yun and the rest, who were
occupying the same area outside as many demonic cultivators and
Divination Bureau people were. In a flash, the owner of this space could
make out his wandering thoughts in detail, then abused him with strong
winds and vicious rains, forcing him to get rid of his distractions and sink
into Fuyao Wooden Sword.

He was confined there for an unknown amount of time, the unnamed owner
of the place restricting his true essence uncountable times, forcing him to
resemble a young disciple that hadn’t yet entered the sect, and making him
practice with Shuang Ren as if it was an ordinary wooden sword.

Yet, once the man, transformed into an elderly look again, had pushed open
another door to let him go, Cheng Qian suddenly had a strange feeling, like
these sunless, moonless happenings had only occurred in the interval of a
thought and a breath. As he stood at the other doorway, he looked up to see
that a tiny strand of hair, the one that had been cut off of him by the wooden
sword before he had entered, was only just now falling to the ground.

He suddenly took a step back, turning his head. “What do you go by,
senior?”

“I have no name,” the man answered, head lowered. “I am just a spot of

inheritance, stored away for you all.”

“What would have happened, if we had selected ‘Heaven’ or ‘Earth’?”

“The Fuyao Sect has only ever walked the path of humanity since olden
times. I can’t teach the paths of the Heaven and Earth. No one can. You
would have just been sent back and forth between places.”

Hearing this, an idea suddenly streaked past Cheng Qian’s mind, too fast for
him to catch. He was thoughtful for a short moment, then performed the
proper bow of a junior towards the old man, leaving in large strides
thereafter.

Behind him, the door to their inheritance silently shut, as if it had never
existed in the first place. He raised his head to see Yan Zhengming standing
somewhere not too far away whilst hugging the wooden sword he had
extracted from his inner sanctum, his head slightly lowered in
contemplation.

As soon as he caught sight of him, Cheng Qian immediately felt pleased,

and even his steps were quite brisk. “Senior brother…”

However, right when he spoke, Yan Zhengming’s cold gaze swept over to
him, slicing off the latter half of his words.

Cheng Qian had grown up with him since childhood, and could tell the
difference between when the other was bored and picking a fight, or moved
to real anger. Stunned on the spot, he thought to himself, slightly uneasy,
Did he get harshly tormented by that old man, too?

After glaring at him, Yan Zhengming turned and walked forward on his
own, not making a peep.

With a head full of fog, Cheng Qian followed after him, simultaneously
racking his brains to remember when he had ever offended this Young Lord.
“What’s going on with you this time?” he asked, exasperated.

The second he said that, he suddenly realized something, himself. His gaze
uncontrollably landed upon the wooden sword Yan Zhengming held, scalp
going numb. Wait… what did he take the wooden sword out for?

The elder inside their inheritance had been sharp-eyed, but he wouldn’t
have noticed that he had said something a little too much, right?

Bringing that to mind, Cheng Qian almost started feeling guilty.

Soundlessly wiping off a handful of cold sweat, his mind began to come up
with a countermeasure.
Yan Zhengming promptly sealed his own lips after hearing this question,
thinking, Ah. That’s a guilty conscience.

Following a long period of waiting, Cheng Qian coughed dryly. Precisely

when he went to speak, Yan Zhengming was actually the one to do so first.
“What? Have you already composed a lie regarding how to explain this
wooden sword?”

“…”

They seemed to have penetrated through a long and narrow passageway,

soon arriving at its end, which had a soft halo from the not-yet-bright
glimmer of daybreak. Having asked that question, Yan Zhengming directly
walked into it without looking back, his figure passing through and
vanishing in a flash.

Cheng Qian was quick to chase after him. A pattern burst before his eyes,
and then he discovered that he had since returned to the foot of Tai Yin
Mountain. Looking back once more, both the Valley of the Heart Demon
and any sort of ‘inheritance’ had completely disappeared.

In addition to his fuming senior brother, there were many present. One side
was led by Han Yuan, and the entirety of the mob behind him was made of
demonic cultivators. The other side was led by You Liang, and behind him
was a large batch of ordinary cultivators, which had come to assemble here
at some unknown point in time.

Li Yun, Shui Keng, Nian Dada, and the others were unabashedly in the
center, floating in the sky.

Cheng Qian was positive that back when the Demon Extermination Array
had broken, there had not been this many living, breathing cultivators here.

Could it be that the war between immortals and demons, originally planned
for Tai Xing Mountain, had been shifted over here?
 LY 87

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Upon sighting them, Shui Keng resembled a motherless child that had just
found her family again. Completely disregarding the two armies facing off,
she hopped down without giving any explanation. “Most senior brother!”

She was wearing bright red, and when she dropped from the sky, the hems
of her clothes and tips of her hair appeared to glow with light, as if a ball of
eye-cauterizing fire was falling from the Heavens. Everyone’s eyes were
drawn to the two that had suddenly come out of nowhere.

The excuse Cheng Qian had been wanting to speak out was successfully
stifled.

Han Yuan was sitting high up, cross-legged. He’d had his eyes shut in
recuperation without a care. Opening them at the sound, he then sinisterly
swept them over the few surrounding demonic cultivators that were looking
at Shui Keng covetously. They were scared into piping down out of fear,
after which he took back his line of sight, and came into contact with Yan
Zhengming’s gaze.

The look in the latter’s eyes was a little complicated. He had always felt
complicated towards Han Yuan, forever finding difficulty in dispelling his
grudges, but he had also never truly given up on him.

He was, after all… their least prosperous junior brother.

Shui Keng babbled into his ear. “On the day the Array was broken, you two
were swept into a crevice. The rest of these annoying people then crawled
out of the Demon Extermination Array and started to fight each other for a
bit, each of them getting hurt by half. They had to separate into their own
areas to catch their breaths, after which there were four… well, the demonic
dragon’s qi attracted a lot of demonic cultivators into gathering up here, as
well as that prettyboy sword cultivator. I don’t know who he complained to,
but a big group of cultivators came from Tai Xing the very next day.
They’ve been facing off for several days now, and the fighting is about to
start up really soon.”

She loquaciously gabbed out a huge pile of words, tone cheery, watching
the excitement with no intention of getting involved in it. Once done, she
scouted out Yan Zhengming’s sides, then saw Cheng Qian. “Where did you
two go off to, senior brother?”

Before he could answer, Yan Zhengming reached out and pulled her away.
“Don’t speak to him. Let him reflect upon himself for a while.”

Hearing as much, Shui Keng sighed flightily, shooting Cheng Qian a look.
How did you irritate him again?

He could only smile bitterly and shake his head. I’m ashamed.

Yan Zhengming motioned at Li Yun, and, not looking at either side of the
warfront, found a spot apart from the crowd to sit down on.

One person from the Divination Bureau immediately climbed out of the
congregation: Wu Changtian. The instant he caught sight of Yan
Zhengming, he couldn’t sit still, stepping forth to speak with You Liang.

Unwillingly, the latter stood up and walked towards Yan Zhengming. His
injuries still weren’t healed, and he wasn’t moving that fast, having the
pitiful appearance of a stray dog.

Standing steady before Yan Zhengming, he hesitated a bit before speaking

in a hushed voice. “This junior will be so bold as to invite you to sit on our
side, Senior. All of you will be left high positions.”
Yan Zhengming looked at him, and You Liang’s back stiffened
automatically. Had he met with Sect Leader Yan before this, he would have
gone after him in a mind for a fight, but right now, he was inexplicably
starting to become fearful of him.

“No need. It’s peaceful here,” Yan Zhengming answered, indifferent.

Since Nian Mingming had arrived as well, Li Yun had sent Nian Dada off to
this father’s side. He himself now came down from the sky, then came forth
to take over the topic of discussion, smiling at You Liang. “Of us that are
present, which one is not restricted by the tremendous power of the
Bureau’s Demon Elimination Seal? Please pass on a message to Sir Wu, Sir
You: there’s really no need to be this cautious.”

He had concealed a needle within silk. You Liang heard the mockery both
inside and out of his words, but he had no way to vie with him, and stood
there, stock-still and with no objection, for a good while. He was forced to
silently cup his fist, then turn to go.

“Wait,” Yan Zhengming suddenly called out.

You Liang stopped in his tracks.

Yan Zhengming did not raise his head. His eyes were glued to the wooden
sword he held, as if he was seeing it as a flower. “The path of the sword
cultivator has always been harder to walk than others’,” he said, taking his
time, “but since it’s chosen you, that illustrates that you’ll at least have that
gift when you enter it. You’ll always be walking down that road once
you’re in its door. Walk it well, and you’ll be an unmatched sword. Walk it
poorly, and you’ll be a blade of slaughter. Conduct yourself well; don’t
allow another to grasp your hilt.”

The other was shocked, face paling, but after he took it all in, he bowed his
head from afar. “Understood. Thank you, Senior.”

Li Yun waited for him to leave, then took the Stone Seed out of his pocket.
This time, it wasn’t as showy-looking as it had been back at Vermilion Bird
Tower; a small shack that shaded and shielded from the wind was
constructed on the spot, encircled by blocking curtains with charms upon
them. The inside could see and hear the outside, but the outside could not
glimpse into the inside.

“What’s the situation?” Yan Zhengming asked.

Li Yun very boldly sat beside Cheng Qian. “Wu Changtian is up to his same
old crap, and came back to the commoner’s world again. He plans to set up
a competition here.”

“What competition?” Cheng Qian questioned.

Li Yun signaled with his eyes. “Look at that side. There’s people from
White Tiger Estate, Black Tortoise Hall, Mulan Mountain, the Western
Palace… tsk, tsk. Ever since their ancient Palace Master died, there really
hasn’t been anyone that can act as their backbone. To be brief, in addition to
those two sages that have already ‘come apart from the five elements’,
pretty much everyone that’s able to fight has come here. Now, look at the
demonic side — do you see those people that are flocking around Han Yuan
like stars around a moon? There’s three women and six men, who are
known as the ‘Nine Sages’ of the Nightmare Travelers. They’re just
demonic cultivators, though, which you’ve seen many of before. Them
cooperating with each other at the onset, then sticking knives into each
other after a minute passes, is totally normal. They might not be here to root
for Han Yuan, but to stir up the water, just like us.”

“Who is stirring up the water?” Yan Zhangming chided, not even turning his
head.

Li Yun snickered, supporting his arm on Cheng Qian’s shoulder. “These two
sides were fighting fervently, no one winning over anyone else, but then,
Wu Changtian ran over from Tai Xing and suggested this competition. He’s
having several array experts from each side lay down a ‘Ten-Party Array’
here, and after that, they’re going to send in ten people, respectively.
Heaven’s Will decides who gets matched up with who, and the two will go
head to head, disregarding life and death. If the Bureau wins, Han Yuan will
come with them, and the Travelers will draw back to Nanjiang, barred from
entering the Central Plains for the rest of their lives. If the demonic
cultivators win, the Bureau’s people will righteously proclaim that in order
to bear the sins of the world, they’ll abolish their own cultivation base, and
allow the demons to punish them.”

Upon hearing this, Cheng Qian sensed something amiss. “We’re all being
constrained by the Demon Elimination Seal, while those demonic
cultivators have no loyalty to each other. If the Bureau bribes a couple of
them with promises of gains so that they lose on purpose, what fight will
they be able to put up?”

“Han Yuan isn’t stupid. There ought to be blood oaths made on the demonic
side… plus, it won’t be one-on-one only. He wasn’t afraid to sweep across
the Plains by himself, and he never counted on anyone else to help him with
that. He might be thinking to get rid of ten opponents by himself in there.”

“What are we waiting for now, then?”

“The array probably isn’t done yet. Aside from that, they seem to be
waiting for a fair judge.”

Cheng Qian furrowed his brow.

Li Yun pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t frown. Neither you nor our eldest
are going anywhere, but at a time like this, I feel like my own cultivation
base’s mediocrity is pretty good.”

“There’s a lot of people watching, and the blood oaths of many are
involved. I’m thinking that it’s going to be hard to bring Han Yuan away
from this.”

Their few fell quiet for a moment. Right then, Yan Zhengming took out a
fan from who-knew-where, and after rapping it absent-mindedly against his
own chest, he unconsciously turned his head to witness Li Yun’s improper
posture. Thus, he decisively used his fan to smack the other’s arm off. “Sit
properly. Have some human decency.”

Thwarted by the bump, Li Yun cackled. Just when he was about to rib him
back, he inclined his head to abruptly catch sight of Cheng Qian smiling.
The latter didn’t typically put on many airs, so him smiling wasn’t anything
weird. During this smile, though, his eyes were constantly on Yan
Zhengming, as if he was the only one left in his sights. The corners of his
eyes were slightly upturned, and shallow, scattered light looked to be within
them, giving them an unprecedented warmth.

“…”

Li Yun looked at Cheng Qian, then at Yan Zhengming. Following a round

of fine examination, he believed that if he kept watching them any further,
he might just grow sties on his eyes. He shakily sat up straight, thinking to
himself, The Heavens and the Earth switched places around me after just
one nap! Fuck!

Li Yun going silent all of a sudden seemed to make it slightly awkwardly

silent. With an inadvertent turn of her head, Shui Keng caught something
with her sharp eyes. “Eldest brother, did you switch out your fan? That
one’s pretty broken. It’s not as nice to look at as the one you had before.”

Once she mentioned this, everyone noticed that Yan Zhengming had a
bamboo-boned fan in hand. Over its many years, its outer skin had turned
an auburn color, and there were little cracks at its corners. It wasn’t refined
at all.

Yet, Li Yun took the old fan with both of his hands, then carefully spread it
out. There were scant brushstrokes to be seen on the back side, which
outlined the shape of a distant mountain. The front side was a white
expanse that only had one seal stamped onto the corner, in the very likely
characters for ‘Fuyao’.

With just one look at that name, one would know that the stamp had come
from the Sect Leader Seal.

Li Yun exhaled. “This… this is a relic of the sect. I say, junior sister, you’re
a big girl, and should really be studying seriously. Your heart doesn’t have a
drop of ink on it, and all you know to do from morning ’til night is spread
chicken feathers everywhere as you fly around at random… ah, you really
worry me to death. Where did you get this from, most senior brother? Try
dripping blood on it later. It might have developed a spirit.”

Yan Zhengming explained in simple, downplayed terms the inheritance he

and Cheng Qian had encountered behind the Tower of No Regrets, then
proceeded to take out a small box and ancient book from his Bag of
Hoarding.

He handed the wooden box to Shui Keng. “This is a yao pill from some
generation’s Yao King, who had lived for three-thousand, six-hundred years
before dying of age. The pill is pure, and can pass on power. When it comes
to yao cultivators, they have non-stop internal struggles, so Kings living to
old age are rare. The Fuyao sect’s successive generations were only able to
obtain this one pill; keep it, and don’t secretly eat it for yourself. There’s
over three thousand years of Daoist practice inside it. Your bones are not
fully grown, you might not be able to endure it.”

Shui Keng looked like she could not orient herself, eyes soon about to open
to eyebrow-line. Resembling a stingy, destitute soul that had caught sight of
a house full of gold, she held up her worshipping hands in a begging
posture, as if she was holding up her dream of turning into a great yao. She
stuttered for a good while, then incoherently babbled out some boot-lickery.
“S-Senior brother… I have seen the greatness of Mount Tai, yet failed to
recognize it! That fan is r-really beautiful… so beautiful, I’m drunk on it!”

“Quit it. You’re an embarrassment to look at.” With that, Yan Zhengming
tossed the book into Li Yun’s hands. “This is yours.”

The other accepted it merrily, then saw the words ‘Ninth Chain’ written on
its cover. He flipped it open. After skimming only a few pages, his entire
body was trembling out of excitement. “This… this is…”

“I questioned that Senior,” Yan Zhengming said. “He said that in the
ancestral line of our sect, there was indeed one individual that was
particularly unsuccessful. They could not perform alchemy, craftsmanship,
the sword, or martial arts, instead specially delving into all sorts of bizarre
skillsets. This pedigree of cultivators is very rarely seen, and are known as
the ‘Ninth Chain’. We’ve had no Master these years, no one to guide you
onto this road, so you’ve been groping about blind by yourself. Now that
you have this, you’ll be able to get twice the results with half the effort.”

“I’m going to devote my life to you, brother,” Li Yun said, hot tears filling
his eyes.

Sect Leader Yan glanced at him with his peach blossom eyes — which
could talk to no one, only scold — in a clear conveyance of his contempt. I
wouldn’t even want your money.

Cheng Qian kind of didn’t know how to react. He had been worried that
that elder had given Yan Zhengming a hard time, not expecting that he
would have actually been given pointers to get out of a conundrum, and
material things… Sect Leaders really did get special treatment.

Li Yun stroked the old book he held lovingly. “Did that Senior say anything
else?” he asked, inquisitive.

Had he said anything else?

“The origin of the sword in your inner sanctum is quite intriguing. In order
to attach a swordwill to its surface, someone has cut its primordial spirit to
act as a vector, which happened to allow you to turn your poor fortune into
good fortune, walk ‘into the scabbard’ in one go, then truly rise into the
‘Sword Spirit Realm’ afterwards. However, as I see it, even though that
humanized sword is amenable to lowering itself and is very cunning, your
attainments in the wooden sword are not high. If you want to take a further
step, you must refine your swordwill properly.”

Once he remembered this, Yan Zhengming’s hands faintly trembled. He

glared malevolently at Cheng Qian.

“Quell your anger, senior brother,” the latter whispered, gathering in close.

Yan Zhengming flung his hand off, not making a peep.

Cheng Qian was only able to wound people with his sharp mouth and teeth,
not coax them with smooth words and a silver tongue. After watching him
helplessly for a spell, he cautiously held Yan Zhengming’s hand.

It got flung off again.

Just as unflinching as he claimed himself to be, Cheng Qian chiseled away

at his goal by grasping the back of his hand once more.

Shui Keng didn’t know to avoid taboo. Following a minute of staring

fixedly at them from nearby, she got the overall feeling that something was
wrong.

Li Yun lowered his head, putting them out of sight, out of mind. All of a
sudden, he discovered something stuffed between the pages of Ninth Chain,
and when he gently opened it up, he saw that there was a piece of paper.
The ink marks on it were fresh, and in Yan Zhengming’s handwriting. It
said: “Make this thing up, then give me a portion of it.”

The page the note was on happened to be in the pill volume. The section for
a ‘heart-purging pill’ hit Li Yun in the eyes.

Its annotation read: “By ingesting this pill, one’s heart and essence will be
purged, the seven emotions cut away from and six desires cleaned away.
From then on, there will be no love, nor hatred, nor any concern about the
mortal realm. Cultivation will come before all.”

Li Yun’s heart jumped fiercely. With a chest full of doubts, he raised his
head to look Yan Zhengming, who was wrangling with Cheng Qian.

Right at that time, a sudden burst of furor came from within the crowd. A
flock of Bureau people was seen to stand up in succession, immediately
after which a carriage with flying horses came down from the sky. A
familiar person lifted the vehicle’s curtain and jumped down — Liu Lang.

After disembarking, he bent at the waist with his hands making a step in
front of him, respectfully allowing the one still inside to step on them. Said
person was not a surprise — Tang Zhen.
Tang Zhen ought to have already switched bodies. His complexion looked a
lot better, and his originally slightly-grayed hair was entirely black.

Upon getting off, his gaze swept around his surroundings, at Wu

Changtian’s group cupping their hands, then at the looks in the eyes of
Mulan Mountain’s group being pretty unnatural. Meanwhile, Black Tortoise
Hall’s people were standing uniformly at the clear other end; evidently, they
still remembered that the others once had an altercation with them at the
Immortal Binding Platform. Others — such as the large group of wandering
cultivators or those from smaller sects, like Nian Mingming — stepped
forth to greet him one after the other, some calling him ‘Brother Tang’,
some ‘Senior’.

Quickly after that, he turned towards the demonic cultivators. Strangely, of

the Nine Sages therein, three of them cupped their hands, greeting him from
afar.

The man hadn’t had much contact with those famed sects, but the wide
range of connections he had amidst the smaller ones could make one gasp
in astonishment. No wonder he knew a little of everything.

A whistle came from the distance, which was the Bureau’s signal. After
hearing it, Wu Changtian stepped forward to speak. “All my fellow Daoists
have been invited, and the Array has now been completed. Please verify it,
Mr. Tang.”

Tang Zhen sent his divine consciousness out to cover the place. Following a
short moment, he opened his eyes and nodded, giving no sort of comment.

Wu Changtian glanced at Han Yuan. “Pardon me, Mr. Tang. Can you bring
out the blood-oath plate?”

Liu Lang quickly drew out a plate from a small bundle, took two paces
forward, and wordlessly released it. It stayed there, suspended in midair.

Tang Zhen looked down, sighing. “Must this be so? Ah, well. Make your
oaths, you two.”
Wu Changtian was delighted. Four fingers put together, his hand pointed up
at the sky, expression dull. “Today, my Bureau bears the Demon
Elimination Seal, uniting our fellow Daoists from all directions in a battle
against the Nightmare Travelers and demonic dragon. If our group loses,
everyone in the Bureau will destroy our own cultivation bases, allow them
to punish us, and never enter the door of immortality!”

With that, he forced out a cluster of blood drops from his fingertip, letting
them fall onto the plate.

Shui Keng silently morphed into a bird, then flew into the sky to scout out
what was going on. She saw a diagram of the Supreme Ultimate pictured in
the middle of the plate, Wu Changtian’s blood seamlessly dying half of it
red.

Wu Changtian shook out his sleeve. “It’s your turn, Daoist Han.”

Without even lifting his eyelids, Han Yuan reached out, then made a motion
with his hand. The plate came directly flying over to be right in front of
him. “If we lose, I’ll go with you, and they’ll beat it back to Nanjiang,
shrinking back into their shells for a lifetime.”

Saying so, he lowered his head, ruthlessly bit his own finger open, and
forcefully pressed the bloodied digit upon the Supreme Ultimate plate. A
hissing sound was heard as it appeared to suck in his blood, instantly
sucking out a concave area onto his finger. The other half of the Supreme
Ultimate was immediately crammed full of dense, black blood.

The plate began to spin at rapid speed. Just from watching it, Shui Keng felt
a little dizzy, so she had to shift her sights away.

The next moment, numerous diagrams of the Supreme Ultimate, suffused

with the color of blood, broke away from the plate. A mark was left behind
on each of the wrists of the people in the Bureau, Han Yuan, and the Nine
Sages. With the oath completed, its violators would indubitably be met with
backlash.
Han Yuan looked at the mark indifferently, put his still-bleeding finger into
his mouth, and licked the bloodstains off of it. “It’ll be these nine, plus me.”

Wu Changtian waved his hand. A few young Bureau workers stepped out
from behind him, carrying scrolls. He selected one of them himself, and the
others dispersed into the crowd, going towards those they had selected.

One of the scroll-holders was heading right for where the Fuyao Sect was.
Grabbing Cheng Qian’s elbow, Yan Zhengming whispered, “Go get that.”

This was not some stranger that was bringing a scroll, but Zhe Shi, who had
infiltrated the Bureau.

Knowing that Zhe Shi had to be sending information back, Cheng Qian
immediately understood, then moved aside the Stone Seed’s curtain to
welcome him.

The instant he left, Li Yun quickly gathered in close to Yan Zhengming and
pulled at his ear while he shot question after question at him. “What do you
mean by this? What’s going on with you and Xiao Qian? What do you want
a heart-purging pill for? Did you take the wrong meds? What are you doing
this time?!”

Yan Zhengming caressed the wooden sword he held with both hands. “Do
you know that he damaged his own primordial spirit for this sword?” he
asked, hushed.

Li Yun went mute for a moment. “Ah… that seems like something he
would do. So, your reciprocation for that is to be a fickle ingrate?” he
questioned dryly.

“No… it’s just in case. I mean, it’s just in case this all hinders his
cultivation practice one day. If he has regrets, I’ll give the pill to him. I
can’t be something that gets in his way.”

Aside from a cold laugh, Li Yun simply had nothing to respond to him with.
“Most senior brother, I always used to think that you were a fop. I never
noticed that you were actually a Sage of Love.”
“Be less sarcastic.” Yan Zhengming smacked him away, irascible. “Don’t
tell him about this. The novelty he feels hasn’t passed yet, and he’s far from
being fed up with me. I’m afraid that he won’t be happy if he finds out.”

“By my estimate, he won’t just be unhappy when he knows,” Li Yun said.

“He’ll also make you go eat shit. Do you not trust him, senior brother?”
 LY 88

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Yan Zhengming sighed. He turned to look back, seeing through the Stone
Seed, and caught sight of bird-Shui Keng perched on Cheng Qian’s
shoulder out of curiosity. The two were in the middle of taking the Bureau
scrolls, having no intention of returning for right now.

He lowered his head, slightly closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his
nose, as if extremely fatigued.

His features had been delicate since childhood, and made him look like he
had walked out of a painting. Yet, with this shut of the eyes, he no longer
did; he just looked like a stone statue.

A stream amongst the mountains trickled down in spring. The flora’s

perfume on either shore of it all practically turned into mist.

Coming to autumn, the water level lowered, and traces of rocks were
exposed to the surface.

“What did Xiao Qian say to you in the Valley of the Heart Demon?” Li Yun
asked.

Yan Zhengming’s expression lightly drifted away.

“Ahh.” The other understood at once, using a vulgar and blatant gaze to
immorally look Yan Zhengming up and down. “Ah, Sect Leader, you don’t
need to keep playing innocent when you’ve gotten what you want. You’ve
really never come across good luck in your lifetime, only getting your
wishes fulfilled every once in while. I can tell that you’re pleased…”

He paused there, pondered for a short while, then quickly thought up a

figure of speech that he believed to be most accurate. “…and pissing
yourself in fear.”

“…”

As someone obsessed with cleanliness, Yan Zhengming could put up with

Li Yun being all sorts of worthless, but he absolutely could not tolerate the
tramp associating such indecent vocabulary with him. For a second, he felt
that his own tongue would be dirtied by this guy’s speech, so he went
straight to violence.

“Hold it!” Li Yun raised a hand to cover his head with, dodged to the left
and the right as he folded up the slip of paper that was stained by fresh ink,
then carefully stowed it away in his lapels. Once done, he took in a deep
breath and pat himself on the chest in full contentment, looking like he had
received a life-saving talisman.

“Trying to hit me?” he huffed. “You need to think carefully about what you
do, Sect Leader. I’ve now got a handle on you. You’ll have to remember
from now on to always be a little nicer to me, else if you’re not careful,
you’ll scare my weak heart, and — oops! This slip might just get shown to
Xiao Qian!”

What was the use of keeping a junior like this around?

I might as well fatten him up a little, then kill him for the meat on New
Year’s, Yan Zhengming evilly thought.

Cheng Qian knew not a thing of the violent undercurrents surging between
those two. He had accepted the scrolls from Zhe Shi, who was pretending
that they had never met before, and was momentarily conflicted.

Zhe Shi had learned via various channels that Cheng Qian had come back
from the dead, but this was the first time he had seen him in person in so
very long.

He offered up two scrolls with both hands. After looking at Cheng Qian for
a short moment, his eyes suddenly went red while his back was turned to
the others. Soon after, he took a step back, then cupped his hands and bent
his waist in a deep bow. When he raised his head once more, he had
resumed his tranquil blankness.

Owing to Yan Zhengming having been exceptionally difficult to serve when

young, Zhe Shi had been exceptionally meticulous amongst the many
Daolings. Cheng Qian recalled that the other hadn’t spoken much, nor had
he been as personable as Xue Qing, doing all his tasks in an orderly manner
and having little presence. His looks hadn’t even changed all that much
over the years. It seemed like only yesterday that he had been following
their most senior brother, pouring tea and polishing seats, but now… he was
already a different person.

Cheng Qian collectedly stowed one scroll Zhe Shi had stuffed into his
hands into his sleeve. Maintaining his persistently unreasonable look, he
unfurled the other scroll — its surface was empty as air, with only a sizable
Demon Elimination Seal upon it.

The Bureau had sent over two scrolls, which was saying that Fuyao was to
send out two people.

Cheng Qian showcased a cold sneer with difficulty. “Your faction’s Sir Wu
really doesn’t skimp out on the slightest detail when it comes to tallying
people up. He won’t let even one fish slip the net.”

At that moment, an urgent burst of drums was heard coming from not too
far away. At the foot of Tai Yin, a human-made barrier suddenly rose up,
resembling a mountain that had been drawn out of nowhere.

The Ten-Party Array!

“My fellow Daoists that have received the Demon Elimination Seal,” Wu
Changtian’s raised voice came, “please take a temporary rest and join the
array in the night, at the time of the Rat!(11p-1a) Over here, please, Mr.
Tang.”

By the time Cheng Qian and Shui Keng returned to the Stone Seed, Yan
Zhengming and Li Yun had each put on unruffled faces.

As soon as he saw that Cheng Qian was back, Yan Zhengming took the
initiative in greeting him. “Xiao Qian, come here.”

Cheng Qian looked at him in suspicion, wondering if the other had done
something disgraceful. Why else would that recent coaxing have not gone
smoothly, yet he was now being friendly on his own accord?

Fortunately, it was currently not the time to fret over trivial stuff, so Cheng
Qian didn’t go after him.

Zhe Shi had passed him two thumbrings. Li Yun took them, then felt along
their edges, soon finding the hidden mechanism on one of them. Gently
breaking it open, the ring split from the middle.

The object had been designed elaborately. After it was flipped over, the
inner wall was seen to be inlaid with a small mirror.

Li Yun exhaled, soon swiping it with his hand. The mirror gave off its own
light, shadows appearing to flash past inside it, so he quickly found a piece
of xuan paper and allowed the mirror’s light to fall right onto its white
surface. A column of handwriting came into being amidst the rays.
“Someone’s done something…”

The words on the surface blinked successive columns in and out of

existence. Linking them up, it went: Someone’s done something. When I
made inventory of the array’s spiritual stones, I found that they weren’t in
line with the regular consumption of a Ten-Party Array, but mysteriously
less. I couldn’t find out who did it, and there’s no signs of other arrays in
the area. The one that did the tampering likely didn’t do it just for those
worthless stones; they’ve either secretly modified the array, or have made
further arrays nearby, but my cultivation base is too low to detect them.
This person’s secret methods are the type seen only once in a lifetime.
Additionally, Wu Changtian has someone amongst the Nine Sages of the
Nightmare Travelers. I don’t know who it is. Open the hidden mirror on the
thumbring after entering the array, and you’ll be able to see the environs
outside upon it. This is a hasty warning, and I’ve omitted a lot of details.
Take caution, by all means.

The Ten-Party Array had been laid out by both sides, and it would have
never been possible for the Bureau to bribe every single demonic cultivator,
with the two keeping watch on each other. Tang Zhen, the impartial party,
had even verified it after the fact. There had not been much leeway for
tampering with the array.

“An array outside of the array is the most likely probability, then…” Li Yun
furrowed his brow. “But, this is weird. If the righteous path gets the
ultimate win, wouldn’t the outer array be useless? If the demonic cultivators
win, then the instant that array strikes against them, the Bureau will have
violated the blood oath, and violators suffer tenfold backlash. Wouldn’t that
just be injuring a thousand enemies, only to lose eight hundred yourself?
Unless… the outer array isn’t meant to go after the demonic cultivators at
all.”

If it wasn’t meant for them, then it was obviously meant for some other
party.

Yan Zhengming used his ancient fan to lightly tap against the white sheet.
“Toss a bunch of cultivators whose eyes are red with murder into an array,
let them fight out who lives and who dies, and the one that wins in the end
will come out, only to get hit in the face with being bound to the inside of
the outer array. I feel like this scenario sounds familiar.”

“How so?” Shui Keng asked.

“It’s like gu-raising.”

She immediately shuddered. She was a bird, yet feared bugs — a truly
unique quality. She rubbed at the goosebumps that were showing up on her
skin. “But isn’t Wu Changtian going in it, too? Do they not care about
him?”
“The Divination Bureau’s internal factions fight like black-eyed chickens.
They might not be from the same side of power.” Cheng Qian crossed his
arms in front of his chest. “That means preparations need to be made to
break another array… I only have superficial knowledge of the array’s
making. It’s too complicated for me to understand clearly.”

“Don’t look at me,” Yan Zhengming said. “I don’t understand it, either.”

Li Yun forcefully grabbed his own hair. “I could actually… ugh, but I’d be
outside the array. There’s no way I could help.”

“That’s easy to deal with. Do you still have any Toad Liquid? If you take a
bowl of it yourself, I could bring you with by hiding you in my sleeve.”

After saying that, though, Yan Zhengming appeared to imagine a scene

where he was carrying around a toad, and suddenly changed his mind.
“Nevermind. Xiao Qian could bring you with.”

Li Yun grinned nastily and beat his own chest.

“…” Yan Zhengming threatened him with his eyes, face unchanging, then
egged him on. “Fine. If you really don’t want to, think up some other way.”

The other got serious. “Even though I can’t go in, there’s someone who
can.”

The second he said that, there was no need to make a clarifying statement;
everyone else knew that that someone who would be in the array, and was
also knowledgeable of its making, could only be Han Yuan.

Cheng Qian went quiet for a minute. “That seems to not be… impossible,
but we likely won’t be able to meet up with him.”

Han Yuan might not be willing to collaborate, but, in everyone’s hearts, he

was still trustworthy. Even if he wasn’t affiliated with the same team, he
was still one of them.

Yan Zhengming lightly sighed. “Take everything you all have out.”
Potent talismans, medicines, night pearls, directional insects, and other such
things, as well as the True Dragon Flag, were quickly heaped into a heap all
at once.

Yan Zhengming took inventory, explained in detail how to use a few of the
rare items to Cheng Qian, and then became a bit fretful; this event might not
cost them a home-breaking fortune, but it would still be a good deal of
blood paid. They likely wouldn’t be able to make the Bureau compensate
them, either.

“If we lose this much in property again, we’ll have nothing,” he speculated.
“Once this is done and over with, let’s use the chaos to reap profits.”

He was a proper sword cultivator, yet was preoccupied with money from
morning ’til night. It left an uncannily bitter taste in the mouth.

In a wink, the time of the Rat arrived.

Heavily exposed to the deep of night, the Ten-Party Array looked even
more mystical.

Han Yuan was the first to stand. An enraged black dragon was seen to flash
behind him, leaving its long, serpentine shadow upon the ground. In an
instant, all of the fires surrounding him were thoroughly extinguished,
which terrified the cultivators. Half of his face was immersed in shadow,
and he tilted his head with an arrogant smile, unspeakably untamed.

The Nine Sages followed him. The group of demonic cultivators, united in
appearance yet divided in minds, entered the array.

People on the outside could not see the inside of the Ten-Party Array, only
the two rows of candles at its entrance, which summed up to twenty from
both sides.

In the wake of them going in, one side of ten candles abruptly lit up. Their
heavy metal bases were instantly inundated with black qi, reflecting upon
the lifelike, carved panlongs on their bodies, looking extremely malicious.
The black qi rushed right up to the Heavens.
Winds were strong in mountains at night, yet the candles’ flames only
appeared to grow. Disregarding any gust, they didn’t move a bit, somehow
generating a slight feeling of eeriness.

The righteous cultivators with scrolls then walked out. This bunch had
divided minds, but no appearance of unity, each one indifferent-looking.
Not glancing at Wu Changtian, who was keeping watch before the array,
they walked in by themselves in a single file line.

As they went inside, one after the other, the other row of candles also
successively lit up. This side was comparatively simpler, appearing as
ordinary white candles standing crookedly in a line, the spitting image of
funerary condolences being giving to someone.

Right as Cheng Qian was about to step in, Yan Zhengming suddenly caught
him. “Wait.”

After that, he raised his hand, pulled the old hair ribbon off of Cheng Qian’s
head, and drew a new one out of his sleeve. After that, in the same way an
ordinary mortal would, he held the ribbon in his teeth, combed his fingers
through the other’s hair, gathered it together, and tied it up. Not a trace of
the puppet charm’s aura showed through.

Yan Zhengming looked at him for a minute. The impulse to hug him was
bubbling up in his heart, but since this was a public area, he was forced to
quietly take his hands back. “As I see it, the internal doorway of the array
might not go to just one place. After we enter, there’s a possibility that no
one will be able to find anyone. Be a little bit more careful… what are you
looking at? Do you even know how well I’m treating you right now? How
about you anger me a couple times less from now on?”

As he watched him, Cheng Qian was purely thinking that he was a nag, and
knew that if he kept going on like this, Queen Mother Yan was soon going
to turn into just Mother Yan.

…But, for the sake of not further infuriating their most senior brother, he
very smartly said nothing.
When they both passed Wu Changtian by without even a side glance, the
latter called out to Yan Zhengming. “Please wait a moment, Sect Leader
Yan.”

Yan Zhengming turned his head to him, raising one eyebrow. His bamboo
fan whirled around in his hand. “What advice do you have?” he asked,
smiling falsely.

“My junior brother, You Liang, has been studying hard without rest ever
since the day he started down the path of the sword. He has never dared to
slack off for a single moment, nor has he ever encountered messy affairs
such as these before, and is still youthful in nature… if you find his aptitude
to be acceptable, Sect Leader Yan, when this Wu is martyred, could I
trouble you with the thankless task of instructing him on my behalf?”

Yan Zhengming actually did have something of a good impression towards

that young, brainless sword cultivator, as ones with primordial spirits for
said cultivation path were uncommon, after all. Sans his own brand of
bizarreness, most of them were staunchly wise and rarely had distracting
thoughts.

Even so, he did not display that tiny spot of favor, simply answering coldly.
“When did the Fuyao Sect become a trash collector? Besides, our tiny, run-
down settlement would never dare to dip its fingers into your Bureau’s
brilliant disciples. Isn’t Gu Yanxue’s end not a lesson from our forebears?”

Saying so, he looked at Wu Changtian no longer, tugging at Cheng Qian.

“Let’s go.”

The latter couldn’t resist looking further at Wu Changtian, though.

Cultivators would label the end of their lives as ‘falling’, or, similar to
mortals, with terms like ‘death’, ‘no longer being of the mortal world’, and
so on. The word ‘martyred’ was not heard much.

He felt it rather unusual.

Cheng Qian had clearly been following right behind Yan Zhengming, but
after entering the Ten-Party Array, they were nowhere to be seen to each
other. As the latter had anticipated, its internal entryway did not open up to
just one area.

It was so quiet inside the array, he could hear his own pulse. Its layout
resembled a coffin with one large end and one small end; ghastly, with all of
its walls bare. A long, narrow path led through to somewhere unknown, the
space before him black and cavernous.

He secured Shuang Ren, advancing onward.

All of sudden, there was a glint in the darkness. He stopped in his tracks,
seeing what appeared to be a humanoid figure standing there in silence.

Was a demonic cultivator already waiting here?

Frowning, he held his fist before his chest, politely cupping his hands. The
person didn’t make a peep, cupping their hands at him in the same motion.
He calmly swept his divine consciousness outward — no one was there.

Cautiously, he took a few steps forward, yet the entire walkway echoed
with his steps alone, making one’s scalp automatically go numb. He made a
hand sign, and then a cluster of cold flames hovered about a cun above his
fingers, quickly illuminating his surroundings.

He saw a mirror in the other corner.

It was unclear what it was made of, but it was completely different from
typical bronze ones. That human figure was almost wholly manifested
therein. Cheng Qian had rarely peered into mirrors, let alone ever gotten
such a detailed look at himself.

The mirror-person held a cluster of flames in hand, as well. The mirror’s

surface did not distribute light like a normal bronze one; the features of the
mirror-person were familiar upon first glance, yet also slightly not, upon
detailed analysis.

But why was there a mirror here?

In the middle of his confusion, the mirror-person suddenly moved on their
own!

‘He’ slowly lifted his head, smiling at Cheng Qian. The corners of ‘his’
slightly sharp and thin lips raised upwards, looking quite ill-intentioned,
while there were no smile lines at the edges of ‘his’ gently upturned eyes,
gaze like a secluded pond.

“…”

This was the first time he was learning that he could be so creepy.

Despite his alarm, he drew Shuang Ren without delay, and slashed at the
mirror.

The mirror-person suddenly jumped out from its surface. ‘His’ height,
outfit… and even that small wound the Demon Extermination Array had
left on his neck were all exactly the same as his own!

What was even worse was that ‘he’ was holding a matching Shuang Ren!

The mirror behind the mirror-person shattered into fragments, yet ‘his’
movements were not the least bit hindered.

Which of the Nine Sages was this? What was this weird technique?

The next instant, two swords that were no different from each other collided
in midair, producing a screeching sound that made one’s teeth ache. Even
their styles looked like the same master had taught them!

Still, with this exchange, Cheng Qian was calm at heart. He had calculated
the depths of the one before him via the blow, and they were inferior to
him; his style had been only superficially imitated, and their swordwills
weren’t at all the same kind, which illustrated that the odd mirror really was
a demonic cultivator’s trick. This person had only appropriated a layer of
his skin.

Following the mirror-person getting knocked back by the strike, they

staggered for a moment, then collapsed to the ground. Coldly looking
askance at him, they appeared as a very distorted Cheng Qian due to the
black qi lingering about their refined appearance. He intended to rush in and
finish this to get the matter completely done with, but his environment
suddenly started lighting up.

Surrounding him on all sides were several neatly-arranged rows of

frameworks that were covered by black cloths. Immediately after this, all
the cloths simultaneously fell down, revealing the frameworks to actually
be around a dozen full-body mirrors that were reflecting each other. This
was far from good — countless reflections of Cheng Qian were being made
within them!

He felt a tingling on his scalp, then heard a gurgling noise, as if something

was coming out of water. A huge group of people that were identical to
him, and carrying swords in the mirrors, shortly walked out of those
mirrors, and they kept coming out, instantly weaving up a sea of people
around him.

“…”

This demonic cultivator should have gone up against Yan Zhengming!

Maybe this would have cured him of his terrible condition of loving nothing
other than embracing his own reflection in the mirror!
 LY 89

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This chapter was suggested by an Advisor Donor.

Dozens of swords pressed down from every direction, all using the same
exact maneuver he had just done. The coffin-like area instantly iced up due
to the frost, a pressuring chill flowing outward.

Cheng Qian inwardly grumbled that this was annoying, Shuang Ren in hand
as he crouched.

Tide Swordplay — Against Crazed Waves.

Swordwill swept over the skyful of fake frost. An invisible barrier seemed
to build in midair, imperviously blocking the repressive might of those tens
of swords. Following a tremendously loud sound, sparks burst forth, and the
mirror-people with swords dispersed together in retreat.

He didn’t give them the chance to encircle him, figure like lightning.
Shuang Ren revolved without cease in his hand, the nine changes of
Subtlety lashing out and stabbing in turn, the sword’s image like an
unfathomable monster, quickly boring into the crowd.

The mirror-people were too densely packed together, momentarily unable to

come near him because they were impeding each other.

He made a sudden leap, then reached out to pass his hand over Shuang Ren,
appearing to casually grab a handful of sword qi. Upon waving his hand in
a circle, the surfaces of the dozen or so mirrors noisily shattered at the same
time, and each of them spat out a cloud of black smoke that rapidly
condensed in the air.

Right as he was about to sort this black shadow out, the many mirror-people
that no longer had homes to return to went collectively nuts the instant the
mirrors shattered, following which they recklessly went to surround him
once more. One of the bodies, cut in half by Shuang Ren, was still restlessly
wrangling with him.

This event happened to bar his way, and with another look, that black qi had
already vanished.

Due to the unforgivingness of the mirror-people, the present scene began to

turn very bloody. Over no more than a few brief breaths, Cheng Qian had
already seen himself without a head, himself without arms, himself missing
half of his body, himself disemboweled… and all sorts of other images of
dying unwhole.

Thankfully, he was a heartless chunk of Spirit-Collecting Jade. Were he to

be swapped out for a human with fragile innards, they might have stared
crying out of fear.

Right as he was getting tangled up with a lot of mirror-people, the recently-

vanished black qi slipped down into a corner, then burrowed into a palm-
sized mirror placed there. Its surface momentarily brightened, then faded,
revealing a smiling face with black qi curling about it.

Cheng Qian dispatched dozens of mirror-people like grass. The blood

splashing onto his face was warm and fishy, like actual human blood.

With no change in expression, he nailed the final mirror-person to the

ground, Shuang Ren’s frigid qi coating ‘him’ in a fine layer of white frost.
The mirror-person opened those eyes that were identical to his, a cunning
smile faintly looking to be within ‘his’ callousness. He was about to get
goosebumps from that grin.

At that very moment, a cluster of black qi suddenly spurted out of the tiny
mirror he had overlooked, and he was shrouded within something fishnet-
like that pelted down upon his head. It was unknown what evil path the qi
had come from, but it seemed to seep into the cracks in his bones, firmly
locking up each of his joints.

Cheng Qian maintained the position he had of pinning the mirror-person to

the ground, unable to budge even a bit.

A ball of fuzzy black shadows darted out from behind him, and he heard the
voice of a man that was neither dark, nor light. “Oh? You’re an ace from the
Fuyao Sect. I recognize that ‘sword of terrible death’.”

While he spoke, a pale hand reached in front of Cheng Qian and timidly
glanced across Shuang Ren, as if fearful of something, then retracted, the
man sucking in cold air.

“As expected. You’re not a typical note, Brother Cheng,” he whispered with
a smile. “I heard that you made a big scene in Zhaoyang City all by
yourself, and killed the Merriment Sect’s Chief. When all the Sect’s pervs
heard, they hollered to take revenge on you.”

The black qi that had penetrated into Cheng Qian’s body jumped up and
down in the presence of the demonic cultivator’s hand. The latter seemed to
sense that the critical moment was about here, and his greedy gaze swept
over Cheng Qian. “This body’s cultivation base… will all be given to me
through your mirror image!”

With that, he yanked on the big, black-qi-woven net, as if he was going to

draw the other’s primordial spirit out of his body…

Yet, that yank moved nothing. The cultivator’s face morphed. “What?!”

He saw a bunch of frost speedily spread out from the end of the net. Cheng
Qian, who had been unable to move, raised his hand, then pulled the whole
thing off of himself. The frozen net floated in his hand like it weighed
nothing.

“You heard of me making a scene in Zhaoyang,” he said softly, “but did you
never hear… that I’m not made of flesh and blood?”
Before the cultivator could realize what he meant by that, the net was
gathered together by Cheng Qian, then suddenly transformed into a whip,
lashed out right at the other’s face. The demon was greatly alarmed, turning
around, changing into a ball of black qi, and floating away, instantly a few
paces apart once he landed.

Still, the swordwill of Shuang Ren was like gangrene attached to the bones,
impossible to shake off. Its sinister killing aura did not draw back,
especially frightening within the corpses that filled the ground with gore.

The cultivator fled in a panic, but a beam of swordlight ‘bored’ out from an
utterly bizarre location, immediately opening a huge rift on the front of his
chest and nearly injuring something vital. He sucked in cold air. In the
subsequent instant, a million Shuang Rens rushed up around him, securely
trapping him inside them.

He quickly looked back to see that Cheng Qian looked as calm as a

thousand-year-old pond of ice — something that reflections could never
imitate.

He resembled those of legendarily high power that soared right up to a

higher realm; toppling mountains, splitting earth, and having no sorrows,
nor joys.

Knowing himself to be in a dead end, the demonic cultivator’s face turned

vicious. His sleeves were seen to swell, and black qi surged upwards,
turning his entire person into a huge black cask.

Cheng Qian was not one specialized in eliminating demons and defending
the Dao, so the amount of demonic cultivators he had exchanged blows
with was ultimately limited. He had never seen such a technique before, and
by the time he reacted, it was too late — the man forced his demonic qi into
his own flesh, and then his physical body instantly exploded, the sword
copies surrounding him all immediately blowing up, too. The wall
blockades constructed all around the Ten-Party Array were consequently
sullied with meat and blood that was suffused with raven-colored qi,
splatters sounding out.
Shuang Ren hummed. Cheng Qian quickly withdrew, thinking to himself,
Hell no. If this puppet charm breaks again, Yan Zhengming is definitely
going to nag me to death.

Yet, the next moment, that weird ear shape suddenly showed up in his palm.
His environment shined with snowy light, stinging his eyes so that he
couldn’t open them for a minute. When he could see again, the demonic
cultivator’s viscera had been entirely cleared away. Most such cultivators
had possession techniques; abandoning the corporeal form to get their
primordial spirit into another body was a tried and tested thing.

Unfortunately, this one had ended up kicking an immovable iron sheet, his
primordial spirit unable to escape. After a shriek, he was encased in the
white rays, crying out in full dread. “I h-hear the uni—“

Following that, there was quiet once more, his soul having promptly flown
away and scattered.

Cheng Qian stood there, mystified. He saw the ‘ear’ he held, which had
appeared at some unknown time, dim down after it finished its strike, then
quickly vanish into his skin, as if it had never existed.

I hear the uniforms? I hear the unity… or, I hear some other crap?[1]

He had believed it to be an ordinary, spiritual, array-making object, not

expecting that the hidden function of it would be so major. He inwardly
decided that once this was done with, he would ask Li Yu or Tang Zhen for
more details.

He cracked open the thumbring that Zhe Shi had given him, then peered
through the internal mirror to the outside. He saw that amongst the two
rows of candles, the white candles and panlong candles representing the
demonic cultivators each had one extinguished. After such a brief time, one
person from both had already died.

As it was, he had been the quickest to act.

He stared at the extinguished white candle for a short moment, having no
idea which perished great power had been involved in it. Cultivation
practice was forever difficult; luck, natural talent, diligence, and
comprehension were all indispensable for it, and it took hundreds of
thousands of years just to finish one primordial soul… only to die like this?

All of a sudden, he was a fox mourning a rabbit’s death, aching at seeing

the fate of someone in the same lot.

He clicked the thumbring back together, then proceeded to walk forward. I

have no idea what’s going on with Yan Zhengming, either.

They had been apart for no more than a short moment, yet he was already
starting to worry. Upon realizing that, he couldn’t help but smile bitterly in
self-mockery. “Is this what they call a day of not seeing someone being akin
to three autumns of separation?”

All at once, a spurt of dense fog tossed itself into the Ten-Party Array.
Snapping back to his senses, he was teleported elsewhere in the blink of an
eye.

His mind quickly spun in thought, speculating, Right. A white candle had
gone out, meaning a demonic cultivator killed their opponent, just like me.
Could it be that I’ll have to face them next?

Right as he landed on ground, a current of overwhelming, omnipresent

demonic qi swept towards him. Once Shuang Ren was unsheathed, it
practically brought a dragon’s roar along with it, and he solidly shoved out
the steel-in-silk move of ‘Seek and Pursue’. He seemed to hit something
huge inside the darkness.

At the same time, the spiritual consciousness he had released collided

overhead with another one that was tyrannical and sturdy. His heart
suddenly jolted; disregarding all else, he snapped out a slender flame from
his fingers, lighting up a range of about ten zhang around.

The figure of a black dragon was seen to land, then transform into a familiar
human, who stood at a moderate distance of ten paces away.
Han Yuan.

They stood in a deadlock for a moment.

Cheng Qian hadn’t expected that he would run into him so soon, speechless
for a time. He pondered for a bit over how he ought to open his mouth and
break the deadlock, while also automatically remembering for a bit the
white candle that had just gone out.

He suddenly realized that Han Yuan had walked down this path ever since
his horizon-covering display at Vermilion Bird Tower. Had any of his steps
not been stained with human blood?

Would those burdened with the debts of blood from their teachers and peers
ever let them go?

Han Yuan was the first to speak. “I was saying that I would be waiting for
ages to meet the next person. Your decisiveness in cutting people down is
really no lesser than us infamous Nightmare Travelers, little senior.”

With a flick of his finger, Cheng Qian made the tiny flame floating above
his hand explode in midair, turning it into a lotus shape. It slowly floated
like a river lantern up above their heads, lighting up the gloomy Ten-Party
Array like it was immersed in moonlight. He put Shuang Ren back into its
sheath without another glance, lightly knocked its cold iron scabbard
against the ground, then sat down supported on it, making a beckoning
gesture to the biggest devil in the world. “Come here.”

The other stood unmoving.

“Are you the heart demon, or Han Yuan?” Cheng Qian asked. “Tell Han
Yuan to get out here and talk with me.”

‘Han Yuan’ smiled coldly. “Han Yuaaaan… there will come a day that I
completely get rid of that trash.”

In spite of saying that, he slightly shut his eyes. Following a short moment,
the threatening qi that had infused his eyes with red light was cleared away,
and though his gaze was slightly evasive, they were limpid within.

The real Han Yuan silently walked over to his side, then sat down. “Little
senior,” he said quietly.

When a young sprout, he hadn’t been much to look at, only being an urchin
with bad ideas and dumb laughter. After he had grown up, he still couldn’t
be stated to have marks of particular handsomeness.

He was tall in stature, but his cheeks were thin. He wore long, pitch-black
panlong robes, he was always tense, he frequently played two roles as the
same person; that all resulted in him being covered in an oscillating,
nefarious qi, which gave off a weird air.

Cheng Qian looked at the spiraling fog of the oppressive Ten-Party Array
above their heads. A short moment later, he drew back his gaze and put it
on Han Yuan. “Now that the mess has gotten to this extent, what are you
wanting to do?”

Han Yuan didn’t answer, just looking at him deeply.

“Why did you want to jump into the sea in the first place? Why did you run
off to mix up with the Nightmare Travelers? Why have you indulged in
your heart demon? Hm?”

The other looked down.

“Tang Zhen said that were it not for our Master sealing up our martial
grandfather between life and death, you might have gotten the title of
Beiming from him one day… since you have so much prestige, why did
you go to Fuyao to listen to the mountain’s sounds?”

Han Yuan suddenly grit his teeth hard.

Cheng Qian lightly bumped him with his calf. “What did you hear?”

This time, Han Yuan finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “I heard the thatch on
the Hall of Ignorance’s roof flapping, Master’s three-legged sect-rule desk
randomly banging on the ground, and a big bird raising its wings up and
flapping its feathers. I guess… that might have been Shui Keng.”

“Hall of Ignorance… Master gave each of us a precept. Yours was ‘Solid

Rock’, mine was ‘Free and Easy’. He also said that our sect-entry
assignment was to copy the sect rules, but you shamelessly said that you
were illiterate and refused to write out of laziness.”

Han Yuan looked to be between laughter and tears.

“When you said you wanted to draw out our junior sister’s yao skeleton,
were you being sincere?”

The other slowly raised his head.

“Given that you say no, I’ll believe you,” Cheng Qian said, gently.

Back when they had played together in their youths, Han Yuan had been the
one chattering on non-stop, while Cheng Qian hadn’t cared to answer,
occasionally bestowing himwith perfunctory grunts. Now, however, it
looked to be the inverse, changing into Cheng Qian being the one with the
incessant interrogation, while Han Yuan cherished his own words like they
were gold.

Hearing this, Han Yuan avoided answering, merely speaking slowly. “The
hand of the Bureau that prides itself on holding the world aloft… is a big
tree with deep roots. No facts have come to light for so many years, and
what has is only the tip of the iceberg.”

Cheng Qian listened expressionlessly, seemingly not surprised.

“Oh. You know,” Han Yuan went on, seeing him as so. “As it appears, the
reason why our martial grandfather became a demon, and the reason why
Island Master Gu died unjustly… do you understand that, as well?”

“I didn’t ask you about—“

“Did you know that on that day at the Immortal Binding Platform, the
Bureau’s people were hanging around?” the other interrupted. “Apart from
unfortunate sects like yours with only a couple people wandering around,
they’re inside sects of all sizes…”

As he had dodged the question yet again, a nameless fire lit up in Cheng
Qian’s heart with a bang, going to the very center of his brows. “I didn’t ask
you about that!” he enunciated, suppressing his rage.

“Jiang Peng had been introduced to the Soul-Consuming Lamp while

traveling abroad,” Han Yuan went on. “At the time, if he hadn’t suppressed
the Lamp and fallen into the ghost path, he would be just like those ghosts,
turned into a sacrificial victim. Do you know who had passed on the
methodology of the ghost path to him, though?”

Cheng Qian hadn’t heard about this before, but he didn’t care in the least
right now. His fists that were beside him automatically clenched, and his
serene expression finally shattered, unmasking his hidden anger.

“Master said back then that he was the first resentful soul buried beneath
the Lamp. Do you know who the second and third ones were?” Han Yuan
asked. “Fifty li away from Fuyao Mountain, at Tai Yin, where we are right
now… there was a town no one has ever heard of. Jiang Peng had gone mad
and killed over fifty villagers… out of every ten houses, nine were emptied,
but one family had put their swaddled infant into a basket, then lowered it
into a well. After being hidden in it for a full three days, he was fished out
by an old beggar that was passing by the side of the road in want of food
and drink.”

The other was stunned, sensing that something was on the brink of being
revealed.

Why, when intercepting Han Yuan, had the Bureau not set up the Demon
Execution Array at his old home of Fuyao Mountain, but insisted upon
doing it at the foot of Tai Yin Mountain, fifty li away?

Why, when there were so many beggar children in the world, had their
Master taken kindly to Han Yuan alone?
“The child followed the old beggar, turning into a young beggar. Over ten
years later, he was brought away by someone he ignorantly believed to be a
zhenren in a rundown temple, and from then on, he had a courtyard to live
in, cranes to play with, clean clothes to wear, and senior brothers that let
him mooch food and drink every day. Even gods wouldn’t have been that
happy…” Han Yuan slowly turned to Cheng Qian, gaze falling to his chest.
After a long time, he said in a raspy voice, “The path of soul-painting… has
nothing.”

At that point, his eyes suddenly changed. It looked like that painfully
struggling, evasively lost Han Yuan had vanished yet again, while the tyrant
devil occupied his body once more.

He coldly laughed, quiet. “They are the hand that holds the world aloft? Do
we insects of that world have to let that hand crush us? Since the Great Dao
has to be held up by such a vile hand, why can’t I take a divergent path?
Everyone hates me at this point, anyways! No one’s going to forgive me!”

“No one’s going to forgive you?” A string in Cheng Qian’s heart snapped
with a twang. Each of his repeated words were heavy as he looked straight
into Han Yuan’s eyes. “Who’s not going to forgive you?”

Han Yuan… the heart demon gave a smile full of cynicism. “Don’t our Sect
Leader and the rest hate me? If it weren’t for me, the Fuyao Sect wouldn’t
have turned into a public target of criticism, and how could our eldest,
because of a century of… haha, bitter pining, have been infected with a
heart demon, a weakness I took advantage of in Vermilion Bird Tower? And
you? Don’t you hate me? Murder is to be avenged. Beneath the
thunderstorm in Nanjiang, you admitted as much yourself—“

“Our eldest racked his brains thinking up a way to clean up all that shit you
did so that you could come back to the sect! You’re saying he hates you?!”
Cheng Qian roared, unable to take this anymore. “If I hated you, I would
have never let you talk so much garbage! I would have long sacrificed my
sword to kill you!”

His heart was mess of chaos. His never-ending anxieties about how this
event was going to end, his bone-piercing disappointment at Han Yuan
always shirking the answer of whether he wanted to take Shui Keng’s
skeleton, and the old feelings and recollections evoked from the memories
of the Mountain-Hearing Array all blended together.

He suddenly tossed Shuang Ren to the side and smashed a fist into the side
of Han Yuan’s face. “How could you say that?!”

It wasn’t clear whether the heart demon or Han Yuan was the one that had
not been on guard against his unarmed beatdown, but he was hit head-on, a
laughable bruise getting added to his face.

Cheng Qian picked him up by the collar, then ruthlessly kneed him in the
stomach. “How many times did I say that I would tell on you to Master, and
how many times did I actually do that? Han Yuan, did you lose your
conscience after you became a demon?!”

There were vague tears in the corners of Han Yuan’s eyes, but it wasn’t
clear if he was crying, or if they had been forced out of his sockets by the
beating.

Cheng Qian pushed him against the wall, the slam making a thud. He
snarled, yet to relieve his anger. “Who doesn’t want revenge? Is this your
loyalty, then? For the sake of revenge, you ignore everything and cause
upheaval in the world, so that countless people will become the same exact
‘insect’ you had been, all because of you? You want to take your junior
sister’s bones for revenge? Then why did you give her a Soulseek Needle
back then? Why didn’t you take advantage of her being little to just strangle
her to death?!”

The pain in his heart suddenly became indescribable. He panted harshly,

then staggered back a step, looking like he was standing somewhat
unsteadily because of his own rare, acutely vacillating emotions.

He clenched his knuckles that he himself had hit bruises onto, standing
frozen for a long time. “Jackass!” he swore.

Han Yuan blocked his face with his hands. His spine appeared to get pulled
out of him, as he was slowly collapsing. After hearing that curse, he slid
down to the base of the wall, sitting on the ground.

Then, an uncontrolled whimper was heard, completely without prior

warning.

The translator says: O o f, this is why I never pick up where other translations have left off of my own volition anymore… I
believe ‘soul-painting’ is rendered as ‘mind control’ in rustycol’s.

[1] The cultivator says “听乾-”, where qian is the first half of 乾坤/qiankun, ‘universe’. CQ mishears it as the qian for money/钱
and the qian for before/前. I went with ‘uniforms’ because that’s just as dumb a guess as ‘money’, and ‘unity’ because it kind of
makes as much sense as ‘before’.
 LY 90

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Whatever was going on inside the Ten-Party Array was unseen by the
outside. The dense flock of cultivators at the foot of Tai Yin watched the
two rows of candles in front of the array with rapt attention.

They saw both rows have one go out here and one go out there, each
extinguishing putting them on-edge. There were no more than a tiny cluster
of candles getting stared at so blatantly, somehow giving off the desperate
message of a blood-reeking storm.

Once the candles were blown by the wind and moved like grass, everyone
would feel like enemies were everywhere.

Shui Keng vigorously rubbed her eyes, continuing to stare without moving
as she whispered, “I never want to light another candle in my life.”

Inside the array, Cheng Qian and Han Yuan were not speaking to each other.

The former stood quietly for a minute, the fury within him gradually
subsiding. If I was him, he thought, how would I be?

Thinking it over, with how petulant he had been when young, he surely
would have done even more extreme things, and become even more
twisted. It was simply that he had comparatively better luck, for such things
to not cover his own head.

How many people like their eldest were there in the world, after all?
As a child, he had thought Yan Zhengming to be someone that knew how to
eat, but not to fight, and conducted himself with less than the utmost of
dignity. Only after he had grown up and gained sense did he understand that
the other was more capable of enduring injury than others.

It was no rarity for tough people to break their wrists with no change in
expression, but there were not many that could maintain their true selves
beneath deep hatred.

Cheng Qian knew that he wouldn’t be able to do that, himself.

With that thought, he suddenly felt that he was in no position to admonish

Han Yuan.

“Get up. Why are you crying? Do you think me calling you a jackass is an
injustice to you?” He kicked Han Yuan with his toes. “There’s an issue with
the Ten-Party Array. I don’t understand how the array works, and you need
to do something a little useful, anyways.”

“Is there someone of Wu Changtian’s among the Nine Sages?” Han Yuan
asked, sullen.

“It’s not only that.” Cheng Qian explained Zhe Shi’s message, and their
conjecture, with urgent simplicity.

The other’s complexion changed, and he stood up with malice, smiling

coldly. “Haha! I just knew that those teetering ‘nobles’ would get what was
coming to them!”

With that, his expression flipped over, and he turned into the normal Han
Yuan. “If you haven’t guessed wrong, and there’s another array outside of
this one, it’s definitely being monitored,” he said, worried. “If we disturb
the Ten-Party Array hastily, we’ll probably alert the enemy.”

It was clearly the same exact face, yet those few statements were as
different as the sky and earth. It was practically impossible to tell that they
were one person.
“…” Cheng Qian went silent for a second. “Can you not be one-man mob in
my ears?”

Han Yuan’s expression was changing at flying speed, as if two people were
incessantly fighting for the spot. In the end, Han Yuan might have been
scared by Cheng Qian beating him up, because the heart demon won.

“Even so…” Heart-demon Han Yuan slowly said, “if you have an artifact
that can restrain your life qi so that the array can’t detect you, it might take
you for dead.”

Cheng Qian had no such item, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do that.
Right after Han Yuan was done talking, he saw Cheng Qian lower his head
to crack open the ring on his thumb — in this further short amount of time,
two more white candles had been extinguished.

He counted up the candles remaining, and then his figure shook slightly, his
entire body seeming to turn into a chunk of rock. Had Han Yuan not known
that he was there to begin with, he would have narrowly failed to sense that
there was another person around.

He was shocked. “You…”

Cheng Qian paid him no mind, simply staring at the mirror on the ring. The
next instant, he witnessed one of the flames on a white candle flicker, then
go out.

Han Yuan reached out and touched the back of Cheng Qian’s hand, only
feeling a slight warmth on him that was much lower than a human’s body
temperature. The heart demon looked intrigued. “What a good technique!
How did you get it?”

“Thanks to your gracious gift, the physical body my parents gave to me

died,” Cheng Qian answered unhappily. “I had to refine a stone to rely on as
a new home. What now?”

Heart-demon Han Yuan’s eyes flashed, but the faintly malicious smile on
his face was as steady as Mount Tai. Taking back his feeling hand, he
answered unhurriedly. “Since the Array believes you to be dead, someone
else will inevitably be sent over. Wu Changtian isn’t wanting to bet on who
wins and who loses with me, he’s wanting to take my life here. As he’s
planted one of his, how could he not have tampered with the array? If you
wish to break it open, you’ll have to get what manipulates the array’s
workings from his hands.”

“If you were well aware of all this, why did you humor him?”

Han Yuan shrugged. “I go along with what he wants, then smack him right
in the face in front of the whole world. Hahaha… the Divination Bureau’s
attempt at reaping benefits will end up with losses! Such a thought is really
refreshing.”

This inner demon that Han Yuan had cultivated simply could not be
predicted via common sense. He cared nothing for any costs that came with
any benefits, and hadn’t considered the scenario of him not hitting his
counterpart in the face, but instead falling into his trap. He just wanted to
feel delight, and for the sake of one second of that, he would do anything.

Cheng Qian sighed, unable to talk logic with this guy. “How do you know
the next one will be someone from the Bureau?”

“There was an unlucky sod at the start, and then there was you, so now a
third will be transported to me,” Heart-demon Han Yuan replied without
expression. “If that doesn’t happen, then Wu Changtian’s plant either got
killed by someone else first, or they’re all dragging their feet… which
won’t matter, of course. Were that to not be true, I’ll just kill them and wait
for the next one. It’s no trouble.”

“…One of these days, I’ll kill you myself.”

Hearing so, Han Yuan was ecstatic, laughing aloud. “Dying by the ‘sword
of terrible death’ would really be three lifetimes’ worth of fortune for me!”

Suddenly, his laughter cut off. Footsteps were heard to come from a side.

The array really had sent another person!

Cheng Qian gripped Shuang Ren tightly. He absolutely could not allow Han
Yuan to kill right in front of him. However, when the person got a little
closer, he suddenly sensed something slightly off — because they had the
strong scent of blood on them, and anyone would know they were a
demonic cultivator.

But how could they be?

Did the formation think that two people from the same camp would act
against each other?

Cheng Qian and Han Yuan exchanged glances. The former swept the lamp
above their heads back into his sleeve, then burrowed into the darkness
inside a burst of shadow.

A demonic cultivator in white shortly floated over, resembling an elegant

and delicate Young Master of the mortal world.

He was also one of the Nine Sages; on account of his manner of dress and
bearing being inharmonious with other demonic cultivators, Cheng Qian
had something of an impression of him.

The guy stood still once in. Upon seeing Han Yuan, he had not a bit of
nervousness at all, seeming both unsurprised and unafraid. “Sir Dragon!” he
said with a smile. “We really have been brought together by fate!”

The guy looked gentle and refined, but once he opened his mouth, he was
like a really loud and broken gong, gabbering with an accent that came
from some unknown chunk of cornfield. It didn’t feel like he was shouting
at any sort of ‘Sir Dragon’, but at his family’s stubborn water buffalo.

Han Yuan shot him a look. “Luo Zhengyi.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

The demonic cultivator named ‘Zhengyi’, which meant righteousness,

answered candidly, taking a huge step towards Han Yuan. “That I could
meet one of my own in this array is basically telling me to take a break…
oh, Sir Dragon, why do you look ashen? Did you just come across some
kind of difficulty?”

Han Yuan slightly frowned, shutting his eyes and not making a sound.

If this Luo Zhengyi actually was the one that Wu Changtian had arranged to
deal with Han Yuan, then wouldn’t the logical plan be that there would be
only two demonic cultivators left after all the death, the Ten-Party Array
would be broken, and then Han Yuan would be besieged when he believed
himself to have won? What was with him showing up and getting in the
way, purposefully informing Han Yuan that there was something fishy with
the array?

In a spark’s time, Cheng Qian recalled what Han Yuan had said — if there
was an array outside of the array, someone had to be monitoring this one!

So, for those behind the outer array… was this a plan to ruin Wu
Changtian?

In the blink of an eye, Luo Zhengyi sped-walk over to Han Yuan’s side, as
if he could fish out two jars of wine at any time to have a drink with him. A
strong light abruptly slashed Cheng Qian’s eyes, making his eyelids jump,
and once he could see again, one of Han Yuan’s hands held before him had
turned into a dragon’s claw without any warning, its huge scales flashing
with terrifying light. With extremely lethal demonic qi, he instantly tore off
half of Luo Zhengyi’s body.

The white-clothed scholar was half-human, half-turned-into-a-skeleton, a

mass of mangled flesh hanging unevenly off of him. Even so, could still
retaliate without a care.

He drew a tiny bell out of nowhere, and a burst of quick chimes rang out.
The landscape of the Ten-Party Array suddenly morphed, and a swamp that
stank of blood came into being beneath Han Yuan.

That bell could manipulate the Array!

While Luo Zhengyi shook the bell, he used his other hand to hold up his
half-peeled-off countenance. “Tch. My magnificent bones are exposed.”

With that, flesh grew out of the areas of bone on his face, clashing with the
other parts of it.

He was one of the ones that had laid down the array!

“A Skin Painter,” Han Yuan supplied.

“Alas, Sir Wu entrusted me with this task.” It was unknown whether Luo
Zhengyi or the Skin Painter was talking. “It’s just a shame that we both
appear to have been pitted. I really do feel wronged… but there’s no use in
explaining all that to you, since you’ll want me dead whether you believe
me or not. Let’s get going, then!”

The instant he said that, Han Yuan was dragged down by the swamp under
his feet. He coldly huffed, then transformed into a huge dragon, letting out a
long hiss. The entire Ten-Party Array seemed to shake a couple of times.

Yet, how did this array work?

In the ways of the world outside, water trickled down to lower areas,
intense fire melted gold, people were born, aged, got sick, and died, and so
on. Those between the Heavens and the Earth, no matter how powerful they
were, could not disregard those important rules. The array’s method was
actually to reset those rules to be within a certain range, and the people that
entered it would have to suffer the manipulations of the array’s master,
unless they broke out of it.

Regardless of how despotic the demonic dragon was, the swamp was on
him like a shadow.

Luo Zhengyi looked up and opened his mouth wide, degenerating his face
once more into being half-bones, his jaw nearly going off somewhere else
on its own. He watched Han Yuan’s hard-pressed state in ecstasy.
Right then, the fine sound of metal and stone suddenly came from behind
him.

His head, which was nearly about to split into two, twisted towards it.
“Who’s—“

Before he had time to say ‘there’, he saw not even the shadow of a ghost,
yet felt frost attacking his face.

Was the Ten-Party Array haunted?

The next moment, his turned head was sliced off by a ‘haunted’ sword. A
burst of black qi suddenly emitted off of his leaking neck — that was his
primordial spirit.

Cheng Qian acted quickly upon spotting the opportunity, tugging the bell
out of the corpse’s hand. Without inquiring after how to use it, he forcefully
shook it on his own.

The Ten-Party Array promptly shifted according to his thoughts. A wide,

astral wind was made, pinning the primordial spirit to the ground without
room for argument. At the same time, Han Yuan suffered collateral damage,
as despite his quick dodging, he nearly had a layer of his scales scraped off.

One messed-up human figure remained on the ground, a trail of blood

slowly oozing out of it. In no more than a short moment, the demonic
cultivator had been eradicated in both body and soul.

Han Yuan shifted to human form, licking the severe scratches on his arm.
“What a ‘righteous noble’ you are, little senior, to sneak attack him from
behind and kill him with no hesitation.”

Cheng Qian ignored him, raising the bell and making a gesture. “I’m going
to go look for our senior. How do I use this?” he asked, indifferent.

“Submerge your spiritual consciousness into the bell, and you’ll be able to
see the entire Ten-Party Array… in a place where no one’s limbs can touch
you, you can hold the bell and be the master of the array, acting as you
please.”

Han Yuan had fostered this heart demon’s mouth to be a bit shoddy. Coldly
watching Cheng Qian fiddle with the bell like an amateur, he started
speaking provocatively. “You can be no less than relaxed about him for a
second… do you want to know what his heart demon in the Vermilion Bird
Tower was?”

Cheng Qian’s expression was unchanged. “I already do.”

The other’s brows jumped up, the minute malice on his face changing to
obvious surprise, and he silently sized him up for a minute. “You know
what your own eight characters of fate are, then?”

Cheng Qian didn’t answer, looking completely uninterested.

“You and Tong Ru are the same, with fates of ascending to the Heavens,
cold and passionless. People like you two are most suited for cultivation;
unyielding by nature, closed off in emotions, less open than others, finding
the most ease in dismissing distracting thoughts. If you follow your destiny,
you could accomplish great things…”

“What great thing did Tong Ru accomplish?” Cheng Qian objected.

“Rotting into a pile of bones in the Valley of No Sorrow?”

“Being ‘closed off’ is just being less susceptible to disturbances from

external things during cultivation practice, not being without emotions.
Who made him forget himself in indulgence, and be so persistent?” Han
Yuan sneered. “In regards to your so-called Great Dao — what are sects?
What are masters, disciples? What are human emotions? Those wanting to
achieve the Dao are still bound by those things! Him qi deviating was not
an injustice; had he been able to break out of the Three Lives Mystic Site,
he might have long ascended to the upper realm by now.”

The Ten-Party Array inside the bell was complex. Cheng Qian couldn’t
understand what he was looking at for a second, and with Han Yuan
chattering on without rest beside him, his hands immediately itched to beat
this garbage guy up.

“If you don’t cultivate your own Great Dao well, won’t you follow in his
disastrous steps?”

“I’m content,” Cheng Qian answered, not lifting his head.

Han Yuan smiled sharply. “You still put on airs of cultivating to whatever
immortality, then? Practicing down whatever path? As I see it, you’re
willing to fall from grace.”

“I don’t have anything for a heart demon to get a word in on.”

“Don’t you worry, then. If you can’t control it and lose your primordial
yang, we’ll see if you get any ‘distracting thoughts’ in your head.”

“…”

These demonic cultivators were practically getting more repulsive by the

day.

This was a rare time that Han Yuan had made him dumbstruck via talking,
and he got even worse. “Male and female cultivators binding as
companions and dual cultivating at least has the harmonious conjunction of
yin and yang blending, and wouldn’t be considered and indulgence in lust.
What would you and our eldest be considered, then?” All of a sudden, he
narrowed his eyes. “Oh… maybe you’ve already gotten distracting
thoughts, and want to have a taste of him?”

The instant the heart-demon version of Han Yuan said that, he suffered
another beating, just as he had been hoping for. He didn’t retaliate, either,
taking the hits as if he was delighted to do so. It made one suspect that the
reason why he had just spoken so rudely was for the sake of getting beaten
up.

When Cheng Qian had started hitting, he had been humiliated into anger;
not only had Han Yuan’s mouth been unclean, but he had genuinely incited
the memories he had of the Valley of the Heart Demon in just a few words.
Immediately after he forcibly tamped down his indecent reveries, his
spiritual consciousness flipped upside down inside the bell, he picked up
the bruised-up Han Yuan, then roughly tore open the surrounding barrier
using his bell hand at the same time. They arrived at where Yan Zhengming
was in an instant.

Right when they touched down, they happened to witness him blankly
sticking a demonic cultivator through to the ground. His sword qi directly
entered their inner sanctum, leaving their primordial spirit with nowhere to
run to. Patterns of splashing blood overflowed, landing on his chest and
cheeks. Detecting abnormal movement inside the array’s workings, he
abruptly turned his head, his threatening murderousness not yet drawn back.

Cheng Qian was startled, sensing his own heart’s violent drumming.

As soon as he saw Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming blinked rapidly, the sword
qi that pervaded his eyes dispersing at once. He looked at the black-and-
blue Han Yuan in bewilderment. “What happened?”

Cheng Qian’s mouth was dry in the midst of his slight distraction. Tossing
aside Han Yuan, who had started playing dead once he saw his most senior
brother, he gave a simple explanation of events.

After listening to that all without a word, Yan Zhengming took off his
thumbring, then split it open to see the mirror inside. From the moment they
had entered the Ten-Party Array, likely not even a shichen had passed
before the two rows of candles were almost entirely extinguished.

Cheng Qian gave him a furtive glance. On one hand, he felt antsy, but on
the other, he felt that his antsiness was wholly disrespectful, and now he
just felt awkward. Not knowing how to keep his own evil thoughts under
control, he had to intensify his hatred towards Han Yuan.

All of sudden, Yan Zhengming appeared to have discovered something,

quickly turning his back to them.
Cheng Qian came back to himself. Believing there to be some kind of
problem, he cleared his throat. “What is it?”

The other took out a snow-white handkerchief from his lapels, then wiped
the thin lines of blood off of his face using the ring-mirror.

“…”

Outside the Ten-Party Array, one day and one night had passed, which had
ended with one black and one white candle remaining.

When the second-to-last white candle went out, Shui Keng grabbed Li
Yun’s arm, her pointy nails digging into his skin.

He, too, was trembling badly on the inside, but in front of his junior sister,
he didn’t dare to show as much, merely feigning assuredness as he spoke.
“It’s nothing, Shui Keng. Think about it. They must have gone one-on-one
as soon as they entered, which wouldn’t take long. The fastest cultivator
and demon to finish most likely ran into each other. I’m guessing that Xiao
Qian and our eldest will be meeting our Fourth Brother soon… maybe they
already have something to manipulate the array’s workings.”

Just when he said that, there was a sudden disturbance heard from the
crowd. A group of cultivators were seen to stand and look in one direction
at the same time.

A team of flying horses came down from the sky. A circle of cultivators in
Celestial Divination Bureau uniforms were escorting the carriage, and each
of its horses donned head ornaments of pure gold. The brocade on the
carriage’s body had been embroidered in a way that resembled nine dragons
about to burst out of the cloth and soar up to the skies, and the thing was
more than just for decor. From so far away, Li Yun could actually sense the
exact same kind of aura as what came off of the True Dragon Flag.

Shui Keng looked towards the commotion. “Who’s that? Looks like they’ve
got money.”
Li Yun pushed her head down with a hand. “Stay in the Stone Seed,” he
whispered. A little bit after, he added on, “It’s probably the one casting the
net in the Bureau that’s come. Though, nine dragons… are they from the ol’
Emperor’s family?”

During his speech, the fleet used stairs of clouds, coming up close in a
wink.

You Liang creased his brow, then came forward while the crowd was
whispering amongst itself, speaking to the one in the lead. “Sect-Uncle
Xuan Huang, Senior Brother Wu and I had come to Tai Yin to lay down an
array and obstruct the demonic dragon, Han Yuan, on the Sect Leader’s
orders. You…” He paused, glancing at the nine-dragon carriage. “You’ve
arrived with the Third Prince. Does the Sect Leader have any instructions?”

The middle-aged cultivator named Xuan Huang gave him a condescending

look from up on his flying horse. “Your senior told me before that sword
cultivation needs a wholehearted devotion to quiet practice, and that there’s
too many trivialities in the sect that might delay your progress… I can see
that he was right. You Liang, you will hand your seal over today. I know of
a few powerful sword cultivators that travel abroad, so I may as well take
you out to increase your knowledge someday. You might get a chance to
gain a Master from it.”

You Liang’s expression changed.

“Make way!” Xuan Huang said. “This blood oath doesn’t matter! You all
made it with a bunch of devils; are you not afraid of word of this spreading
around and inviting mockery? Come, seize them all!”

While he spoke, innumerable black dots congregated in the sky, and a large
flock of giant hawks flew over in an instant.

“Ah!” Shui Keng exclaimed. “Yao… no. They’re not yao cultivators.”

“What?” Li Yun asked.

She frowned. “Those hawks are just ordinary birds, not people of my yao
race. Humans have likely given them pills to expedite them in yao
cultivation. Since they never experienced practice before and didn’t develop
intellect, a bit of training turned them into obedient beasts.”

The huge hawks, akin to a divine army that had descended from the
Heavens, circled above the crowd of cultivators. One was the size of a small
horse. Their leader opened its mouth and spat out a fireball, which was of
similar wonder to Shui Keng’s True Fire of Samadhi.

The fireball turned into a firesea once it hit the ground, catching several
demonic cultivators off guard and burning them into a sorry state. One
amongst them hadn’t the time to scurry away, and as soon as the fire hit
them, all of the demonic qi in their body started boiling — in no more than
an instant, they were turned into a pot of stewed meat.

The translator says: how is han yuan going to be a massive dragon with ultimate power, yet is also afraid of a peacock and likes
it when his shixiong beats him up
 LY 91

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Yet, at the end of it all, it was naught more than an ordinary bird. How
could it withstand the True Fire of Samadhi?

Shui Keng’s back suddenly straightened. “That’s not right. What it spat out
wasn’t fire — it was a yao core!”

The huge hawk’s mouthful of furious flame had been earth-shaking, but its
own conclusion was not the slightest bit impressive. It raised its head and
let out a miserable shriek. The flesh all over its body was sucked dry in a
snap, rapidly shriveling up, and due to the frame of its large skeleton that
stubbornly refused to shrink, its skin cracked apart while it still lived.

Upon another look, the bird’s bones that were exposed to the outside had
already turned to stone, cleanly splitting away from its skin. They were dark
and dull in color and lustre, giving off the morbid qi of death, and densely
engraved with charms on their surfaces — it wasn’t completely dead yet,
but had already gone stiff.

Its two long wings could not be retracted. It crashed heavily upon the
ground, dead with its eyes open.

These hawks were akin to climbing cacti, blooming brilliantly only one
such a time in their lives. They had poured all of their vitality into smelting
an inner core, then had forged ahead in the name of justice, rushing to send
themselves into death in quick succession.
Even though they were only animals of no higher thoughts, did they not
know how to cling to life?

There were always some points in time where the world made one feel that
authority was absolute.

The corner of Shui Keng’s eye fiercely twitched. Those feathers fluttering
down painfully stung her eyes.

The second she moved, however, Li Yun shouted at her. “What are you
being impulsive for?! Sit down!”

All of a sudden, she felt an immense wave of isolation. She thought for a
moment; why couldn’t she call upon rain to clear all these villains away?
She thought for a different moment; if she actually was that powerful,
everyone would fear her, and it seemed like nothing good would come of
that. She would either be like her fourth senior, turning into a villain herself,
or she would be like that Island Master Gu that she already had no more
memory of, inciting everyone else to want to harm her.

She had traveled through the human world for over a hundred years, and for
the first time in her life, her heart became listless.

The corner of Xuan Huang’s mouth ticked up. “Very good. Open the array.”

Before he even finished speaking, a loud noise was heard, and the
landscape changed in color.

The entirety of Tai Yin’s sky appeared to get covered in black banners, like
dense clouds slowly spreading outwards. Several large mountains rumbled
as they rose up nearby, their summits packed full with people raising black
flags. Simultaneously, they stamped their feet and yelled loudly, resembling
an army that had descended from the sky, making people too afraid to look
directly at them for a second.

The hawks hovered close together beneath the billowing banners, and, after
a time, slowly parted into what appeared to be two sides, while the flags
over everyone’s heads withdrew. A massive mirror encased them instead;
its likenesses were indistinct in the sky, as if it was reflecting all the land
within it. Even the fuzzy images of humans were projected onto it like
mirages.

A beam of light suddenly shot out of the mirror’s surface, directly

enveloping the whole Ten-Party Array in it.

“I heard the demonic dragon went in there?” Xuan Huang asked

indifferently. “The Ten-Party Array has been sealed, so he may not come
out anymore… come, set up the Skeletonizing Array. In no more than forty-
nine days, regardless of whether he’s a demonic dragon or demonic
fenghuang, he’ll be made into a pill.”

You Liang looked aghast. “Uncle Xuan Huang, my Senior Brother Wu is

still inside. By our sect’s rules, you cannot kill those of the same sect
without the Sect Leader’s orders. You—“

Xuan Huang gave him an aloof smile. “Ah, nephew… you’re not a bit
incorrect. Since it’s known, come over now and pay respects to your new
Sect Leader, all of you — Wu Changtian is incompetent in his work and has
leaked the divine secrets of our celestial divination, so he should be
punished for his crimes!”

You Liang staggered a step backwards, looking incredulously at his group

of former sectmates.

No longer putting this minor sword cultivator into his sights, Xuan Huang
cupped his hands arrogantly. “Do not fear, everyone. We have come today
to eliminate demons and defend the Dao, which has nothing to do with our
fellow Daoists. However, for the sake of preventing accidental injury, we
also ask that all unrelated persons remain seated where they are and don’t
move. Otherwise…”

He laughed quietly, straightened out his sleeves, and directed his avaricious
eyes towards the Ten-Party Array. “What are you all still lazing around
for?”
Several cultivators immediately stepped forth from behind him, each of
them holding a token of command. After their tokens arrived on location,
the thick fog outside of the Array was suddenly incited into roiling, the two
remaining candles outside of it fiercely swaying.

Li Yun, who had just stopped Shui Keng from being impulsive, was now
unable to sit still.

However, he still had time for action to be bought. An extremely powerful

wave of spiritual consciousness brazenly covered the entire Array, then
forcibly disconnected the tokens from its workings.

Xuan Huang’s expression changed. “The Celestial Divination Bureau is on

a case! Who dares bar our way?!”

A plate of the eight trigrams, stained with blood, flew up, expanded in
midair to be a hundred times bigger, then revolved rapidly. All the token-
holding cultivators were flung away.

The plate was directly blocking the front of the Array, practically
publicizing a challenge towards the Bureau. For a moment, all who had
elected to sit were alarmed, and everyone’s gazes concentrated onto one
area; the ailing-ghost-esque Tang Zhen quietly coughed twice, stood up,
then clasped his hands with a bow towards Xuan Huang. “Fellow Daoist,
the blood oath has been made, witnessed by the Heavens and the Earth. If
you force it to break like this, they will suffer tenfold backlash. You may
truly be worthy of commendation for eliminating demons and defending the
Dao, but what about the lives of your innocent siblings?”

Right then, everyone realized that the Bureau had been neatly divided into
two factions. One faction was the people Xuan Huang had brought, while
the other came to agree to stand behind Tang Zhen — they were the ones
that had made the blood oath with the demonic cultivators. Rivers clearly
separated the two waves of people, and they watched each other in
preparation to fight amongst themselves at any time.

“What do you think you are?” Xuan Huang asked angrily.

Tang Zhen’s expression was unchanged. “Excuse my shamefulness. I am an
insignificant, nameless pawn that isn’t worth mentioning.”

The other sneered. “I see that you have a dark shadow lingering about you,
which rather seems to be the grace of a ghost cultivator. You’re definitely
not anyone good! Take them all down!”

With that order, the crow-like Bureau cultivators grouped up, and the huge
hawks screamed as they came down from the sky at the same time.

Since Tang Zhen had taken the lead, the cultivators that Xuan Huang’s
people had pressured at the onset reacted at once. Someone unknown took it
upon themselves to shout, “Pah! You lot held the order of ‘demon
elimination’, then baited us into coming together here with intimidation and
promises in the name of defending the Dao — that was clearly just an
excuse to get rid of us in one swoop!”

The crowd became restless. Regardless of whether they were on the

righteous or demonic path, none of them were idiots; these newcomers had
arrived here so aggressively, they obviously had ill intent.

A stiff smile appeared on Xuan Huang’s face. “As you all refuse to take a
drink of respect, you’ll have to have a drink of defeat…”

He looked up and let out a long whistle. The huge array that encased all of
Tai Yin suddenly showed its might. Uncountable clay golems rose out of
the ground — blades did not hurt them, and them falling in pieces to the
ground would immediately spawn a new one, which would throw
themselves at the cultivators on-scene. At the same time, the hawks in the
air came down like rain with no sense of self-preservation, and the
cultivators that tried to get higher were rigidly forced to the ground.

The people of the Bureau, already divided in twain, warred desperately in

this place, seizing their fates from each other.

Outside of the firmly-sealed Ten-Party Array, those two candles were akin
to enclosed lanterns inside a violent storm; flickering rapidly, yet ultimately
never going out.
Witnessing this scenario, Li Yun knew that nothing good was going to
happen no matter how this went. He collected the Stone Seed, then
whispered to Shui Keng, “Those are mortal birds, but they still have yao
cores. With how much power you inherited from the Yao King, can you
make them go turncoat?”

She spoke no nonsense, her true form of a Red Crane appearing, and then a
divine, flaming bird soared up to the sky, resembling the lucky omen of
setting sunlight. Her fenghuang ancestry immediately shone bright, with no
room for doubt; even though her yao skeleton was not complete, she failed
to exhibit even a smidgen of yao power, and was always getting chased and
beaten by humans, she had an exceptional advantage when it came to
undeveloped yao cultivators.

The crane cried out thrice. The large hawks, who had been disregarding
their own safety, heard her, following which their formation gradually fell
into disarray. They presently circled down to the ground, one by one, then
slowly calmed down as they surrounded the crane’s side. The charms for
hostile qi carved into their bones seemed to be temporarily dispelled by the
good omen.

The cultivators that had been held back were promptly able to breathe, and
the battlefield soon went from the ground to the skies.

Xuan Huang had been startled by the great yao’s sky-filling presence. He
hopped off of his flying horse and rushed over to Shui Keng himself.

The hawks had switched sides quite thoroughly, rising en masse to attack
him.

Amidst this chaos, Li Yun jumped onto Shui Keng’s back and stood there
like a pillar from the sea. “Go a bit higher. I’ve definitely seen this array
technique before… just a bit higher, and I’ll be able to calculate its eye.”

She flew higher and higher. He got a panoramic view of these people that
covered the mountains, madly calculating this array within an array.
He himself had never expected that there would come a day where the
youth that had once been scared weak-kneed by a couple of tiny rat spirits
in Yao Valley would be forced to be so collected.

On the ground, Nian Dada did all he could to tear his gaze away from the
two candles. He didn’t want to mull over which two people were left right
now.

He wiped his face, raised his sword, and faced off against a Bureau
cultivator that had rushed at him with three successive strikes, staggering in
retreat over and over again. All sorts of weapons were getting tossed about
all over the place, and he couldn’t tell if they were the enemy’s or his side’s.
With his cultivation base, he could only cover his head and scuttle away
like a rat in this chaotic situation.

All of a sudden, he was shielded by a big palm fan. It deflected the several
streaks of sword qi attempting to attack him, propped over his head like a
protective umbrella. He turned his head to see his rotund father making a
hand gesture in seriousness — several fans were flying and flipping up and
down at his urging, defending all of the Mingming Valley cultivators with
them.

“Dad!”

The ever-cheerful face of Nian Mingming was unexpectedly solemn, his

potbelly protruding. He shot a glance at the exceptionally eye-catching Shui
Keng up in the sky. “Son, since you’ve already paid respects to the Fuyao
Sect, return to their side now.”

Nian Dada couldn’t wrap his head around his words. “What?”

“Go, now!” his father shouted.

He could not comprehend what his dad was getting at. Right as he had just
taken a hesitant step, his entire self abruptly rose into the air the next
moment, and he was fanned over ten zhang away by the man’s fan.
He rolled outwards while grunting, coming down with a face full of dirt and
almost running into someone’s foot. He raised his head — it was You
Liang, of the Celestial Divination Bureau!

Nian Dada jumped in fright, crawling to get a bit farther from him. Just
when he wanted to howl for his father, the situation suddenly took a steep
turn.

Xuan Huang was seen to roar in anger. Dozens of the hawks exploded and
died at the same exact time before him. Shui Keng automatically drew
back. At right that moment, a hand reached out of the nine-dragon carriage
that had not moved all this time.

The hand was pale and unblemished, eye-stinging gold embroidered onto its
rolled-up cuff, a palm-sized token of command within it.

“This has dragged on for too long,” the one inside said softly. “I fear that
changes will be made to the Ten-Party Array, so let’s make this battle
quick.”

Once he was done speaking, a bundle of light suddenly shot out of the
token, possessing a highly penetrating force that appeared to pierce through
hundreds of thousands of years of nights — and hundreds of people on-
scene became violent without warning. Upon closer examination, they were
all from various major sects…

Black Turtle Hall had six. White Tiger Estate had three… including Zhuang
Nanxi, who had been actively gunning for Cheng Qian on the Immortal
Binding Platform. Mulan Mountain probably had over eight. There were
some more in major sects, some in minor sects, and even some amongst the
demonic cultivators. These people had different ages, different cultivation
bases, and attire that was further out of line with their actions, yet they
obeyed the mysterious token at the exact same time, swinging their swords
to decapitate their own sectmates.

No one had been on guard against these former sectmates. For a minute,
each of the sects had blood turn into rivers flowing out of them, everyone
shocked stupid.
They were the Celestial Divination Bureau. They were everywhere. They
had a reputation as the hand that held the world aloft.

Nian Dada helplessly witnessed a rarely-seen elder of Mingming Valley

stab a spear into Nian Mingming’s abdomen.

Countless charms on the spear’s shaft exploded. He didn’t even get to see
the final expression on his father’s face.

Maintaining his crawling position, he was dumbstruck.

You Liang followed his line of sight over. “Are… are all of them insane?”
he whispered in disbelief.

The group of giant hawks were slaughtered by Xuan Huang in the blink of
an eye. Shui Keng lost her last barrier.

Xuan Huang’s eyes glared over at her maliciously. He looked sinister, his
entire body covered in blood — for a moment, it was unclear as to who was
the actual demon.

Shui Keng’s crane form was trembling minutely. Li Yun knew that she was
afraid, and slowly drew his own decorative sword out of himself at last.

Still, he ultimately did not have a primordial spirit.

“Second senior,” Shui Keng’s divine consciousness came through, “our

eldest gave me the internal core of a Yao King…”

Faking calmness, he cut her off. “Don’t joke around. A hundred-year-old

Red Crane is no more than a chick that hasn’t grown all its feathers in.
Forget about digesting it; merely swallowing that three-thousand-year-old
core will be enough to make you blow up and die… ah, you yaos. Even
though you live for a long time, you grow up too slowly.”

“What do we do, then?” she asked, sounding like she was crying.

“I’ll have a go.” He licked his rough and dried lips. “Xiao Qian and our
eldest step in in every fight. It’s finally my turn.”
“But you won’t be able to beat him.”

He bust out laughing. “Why are you so chatty, sis? If I die, don’t be afraid
to get ugly. Turn into a sparrow, use the chaos to hide in the crowd, and they
might not catch you.”

Saying so, he took a deep breath, then jumped off of her back. His scabbard
flew him through the air, the sword he held shining as clean as if it had
never seen blood.

Xuan Huang had long noticed that he had no primordial spirit, so he didn’t
take him seriously at all. A shake of his sleeve metamorphosed a ji, which
dashed towards him ablaze.

Li Yun bellowed, his sword like a rainbow — Peng Journeys Thousands of

Li, a youth swimming.

He was not an expert at swordplay. The first thing brought to his mind
during this danger was the very first form their Master had hand-taught him
on Fuyao Mountain.

“Master, what is swordwill?”

“Ah, swordwill. To put it simply, when you practice this form, your heart
will feel something — what did you feel?”

“I feel like I’m about to start flying. I want to go out and see what’s
outside… Master, when are you taking us down the mountain to play? Oh,
right, I want to see what’s behind the mountain, too… ouch.”

“Don’t always be thinking to run off to the cave back there and cause
trouble! How many times has this teacher told you? Stupid kid, why do you
never listen…”

Before Li Yun’s sword arrived, its swordwind had already met the ji’s fire
without surrender, pouncing on the flames like a gale slicing open burning
sunset clouds. All of the unorganized true qi in his inner sanctum condensed
a little, the sanctum of immortality opened, his qi sea began to change, and
his primordial spirit came into its fledgling formation. It seemed like
something had suddenly awakened in his heart, the world and everybody
and everything in it slowing for a beat…

The sword collided with the ji at last.

It was no match for it, breaking into three chunks, yet its leftover swordwill
was like a waft of unruly wind. It whizzed as it broke away from those
blunt edges made of ordinary metal, free as it swept out, the fire unable to
impede its progress.

Xuan Huang suffered a scare. Not having the time to dodge for a second, a
half-cun-long wound was slashed across his face.

Meanwhile, Li Yun’s entire person canted backwards from the ji’s collision,
falling straight down off of the now-powerless scabbard. The Red Crane
caught him with a hurried cry, flapping her wings with all of her effort to fly
far away.

There was a sharp pain in his chest, yet he felt elated for reasons he didn’t
understand. Hah. So long as you’re not afraid of pain or getting injured,
fighting with your all is actually pretty fun, he thought.

While he thought of this, he took out a handful of talismans from his lapels.
With a casual look before him, he poured his true essence into them, then
whipped them out towards the sky. Seeing this, the relentlessly-pursuing
Xuan Huang instinctually used the ji to swat them, only for them to quickly
turn into fine powder right in front of him, then explode into untold
numbers of potbellied grasshoppers that were on fire. One after the other,
they threw themselves at him with no fear of death, resulting in a
grasshopper rain.

These objects were specially used for dealing with those of great power; the
stronger one was, the more they would break the talismans into even
smaller pieces, and thus make even more grasshoppers come out.

Such was Second Lord Li’s signature.

The Ninth Chain is the Ninth Chain, Li Yun thought to himself.

Alas. Fighting was fun, but his chest really did hurt too much.

Xuan Huang was getting unbearably annoyed by all these little tricks that
kept cropping up. With a sudden and loud bellow, his whole self grew ten
times larger in midair, resembling an iron tower, and then he pressed his
pillar-like ji down with the sound of a tsunami.

When Shui Keng and Li Yun were about to be crushed to death together
below, Tang Zhen finally made a move.

Li Yun had never seen him do so before. The man in his memories appeared
to be pretty much on par with himself; despite being well-informed and
knowledgeable, he was basically all talk, and also in poor health, no
weapons ever seen to be held by him.

Tang Zhen indeed had no weapons, using his palms of flesh to firmly hold
up the mountain-like ji. Those hands were apparently made of gold and
jade, and his face was unchanged as he remained within the fire.

“Fellow Daoist Li,” he said without turning his head, “have you already
calculated the eye of the array?”

Li Yun, who had nearly been crushed to death, sighed in relief, nodding.
“The gen trigram will be in position the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s pretty much the same as my own calculations. If I haven’t guessed

incorrectly, it should be on the carriage. Go on.”

Li Yun hesitated. “Then, you…”

He didn’t get to finish, as Tang Zhen suddenly furrowed his brow. His
hands that were holding up the ji made awful cracking sounds, then shortly
split apart like rock from their fingertips to their wrists. Following a
tremendously loud sound, Tang Zhen’s hands fell to pieces.

He quickly took three steps back, yet not a drop of blood flowed out of his
emptied sleeves.
Xuan Huang grinned. “I was wondering what divine powers you had. Turns
out you’re nothing more than a refined corpse…”

Tang Zhen coughed lowly a couple times, looking like he was not long for
this world. “Everyone has a day where they die. Don’t worry, my fellow.”

Saying that, a bunch of darkness surged in his sleeves, and a pair of white
skeleton hands grew out of them. They looked really terrible coming out of
such a refined man. “There’s no need to be so concerned. I have some other
tricks.”

Li Yun had never trusted Tang Zhen, because the latter was not someone he
could think too deeply about, as that would be too frightful. He had no one
else to rely on other than him, though.

“Sect Uncle!” he heard someone shout.

He looked downwards to see a sword getting thrown upwards from the

ground — it was Nian Dada, who was dripping snot and tears.

Li Yun seized it in hand. “Let’s go!” he shouted decisively to Shui Keng.

Soon afterwards, someone caught up to him on his sword’s trajectory —

You Liang. “I will keep the law with you, Senior.”

The two humans and one bird flew for the carriage like meteors.

The divine Red Crane, however, had a true realization after her actions that
her cultivation base was not high, she was pretty much only intimidating in
appearance, and You Liang, though nothing good, was a sword cultivator
with a primordial spirit. Grief and hatred now mixing together, a path was
cleared like a blade through bamboo.

Once she opened her mouth and spat out some actual True Fires of
Samadhi, the cultivators weren’t scared, but the flying horses panicked. The
midair troops immediately scattered off into different directions.

There!
Li Yun was excited. A band of sword qi was already streaking over, which
slashed open the curtain of the carriage traitorously embroidered with nine
dragons. Right when he was going to raise said curtain with his sword, a
hand that was so pale, it was nearly transparent reached out from within.

It grabbed the tip of his sword like it was picking a flower. At the same
time, the man in the carriage lifted his head to smile at him. “How old are
you?” he asked, slow in pace. “For there to be a junior that dares to tear my
curtain means you have laudable enthusiasm.”

In that second, Li Yun felt his hairs stand on end in a way that could not be
described. He mixed in with Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian’s flow all day
long; even though he knew that he couldn’t fight anyone, he had never
genuinely gotten so bone-deeply frightened before.

No… this guy was definitely not some royal dandy that had popped a heap
of pills.

Eerie murderousness spread throughout the warm smile of the man in the
dragon robes. You Liang sharply turned his head, pupils contracting.
“Watch out—“

Li Yun’s heart seemed to get grabbed.

At that exact moment, a loud sound suddenly came from under their feet.

The one in dragon robes gasped, forgetting to kill Li Yun in his surprise. He
allowed him to fall straight down, where Shui Keng, nearly fanning her
wings out vertically, scrambled to catch him.

Then, a current of demonic qi whistled up to the sky, followed by an icy

swordwill that seemed like it was coming from beyond said sky. Swordlight
was everywhere. The nine-dragon carriage broke apart immediately, and the
man inside it whirled out to hover in midair, using no object to do so. His
eyes swept around once as he gently rubbed his chin. “You were able to
break out of the sealed Ten-Party Array… you gents have some skill.”
Three humans and one demon were standing at the corners of a square
formation, surrounding the dragon-robed man in the middle.

Yan Zhengming held his sword in one hand and his fan in the other. “Oi,
who’s this?” he asked Wu Changtian. “Tell me, how did the emperor
appoint this old monster that claims himself to be some kind of Prince?
Why is his face painted with a layer of white makeup? Won’t those consorts
of his be scared to death upon seeing him?”

Wu Changtian had difficulty understanding Empress Yan’s worries and

feelings over seeing someone that was pretty much just like him, his own
face unsightly. “Apologies for the poor performance, Sect Leader Yan.”
 LY 92

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After he was finished speaking, Wu Changtian stepped forth to bow.

“Greetings to you, Third Prince.”

Cheng Qian coolly observed, finding this strange. What kind of Prince
wears dragon robes?

He saw that the features of this ‘Third Prince’ could be described as delicate
and pretty, with red lips and pearly teeth. That complicated, oversized robe
didn’t look off at all on him. His manner of speech plus bearing had a
certain self-humbling courtesy. He looked elegant and smart, yet, at the
exact same time, evidently placed no importance on anyone else.

“Oh, you’re exempt from courtesy.” The Third Prince aloofly made a
motion to falsely help Wu Changtian up. Upon hearing Yan Zhengming’s
rude words, he wasn’t a tiny bit angry, just one hundred percent self-
restrained. “Sect Leader Yan?” he asked, with some presence. “Forgive me
for being in seclusion too long. I’m not sure which sect your esteemed self
is from.”

Yan Zhengming was accustomed to being arrogant. Now, he was meeting a

man more arrogant — and even more arrogant-looking, to a high degree —
than him. This was practically akin to a big-tailed peacock meeting another
of its kind that had an even bigger tail. There was no need to mention how
uncomfortable he was on the inside, and adding that onto the fact that he
had been trapped in the Ten-Party Array for such a long time, he currently
didn’t have a great expression, smiling fakely. “Hmph. I’m but a nameless
pawn that doesn’t need to be brought up.”

The Prince’s gaze fell upon the Sect Leader Seal hanging from his neck,
and then he let out an ah, as if he had received an epiphany. “So, you’re a
descendant of Fuyao. No wonder… as I recall, isn’t this place not too far
from Fuyao’s original location? Alas, many people have really been
inconvenienced by this, you included.”

Wu Changtian’s expression went grave. “Long ago, you withstood the

opinions of the masses to establish the Celestial Divination Bureau, and
give us a status that made it easy for us to walk around the human world.
Not a one of us is ungrateful, nor are we the type to forget grace and turn
against justice. These years, we have been conscientious, never even
slightly disobeying the agreement between us and the imperial family. Yet,
your actions have been rather unkind, haven’t they, Third Prince?”

Once that was said, neither Yan Zhengming, who had been ignorant since
childhood, nor Han Yuan, who had been born a beggar, had any sort of
reaction, but Cheng Qian was in the know. When little, he had
eavesdropped at the doorway of the old village scholar as he had lectured
about history. Upon bringing up the Bureau, the old scholar had only said
that the Late Emperor of the time had been unhappy with the citizens
thinking solely of immortal cultivation and doing nothing practical the day
long. In a moment of rage, he had wanted to ban Daoism, but had ultimately
been persuaded by his officials; thus, he had settled for the second best
thing by establishing the Bureau, which was specially in charge of
managing cultivators.

Cheng Qian had a great memory, and still recalled that the scholar had said
that the Late Emperor had come from a military background. Looking at
this ‘Third Prince’ before him, though, he felt that he didn’t have the look
of one from a martial family. “You’re the Emperor of Wu?” he asked in
surprise.

“I’m ashamed to admit it,” the Third Prince smiled, “but that’s my son.”

“…”
That was some seniority!

When he had gone to Fuyao, the grandson of this old thing had been an
Emperor of over seventy years of age. Cheng Qian was momentarily unable
to add up how old the man was; it was only now that he understood the true
meaning of the phrase ‘immortal mountains see no sun or moon’.

“Who are you to care about him?” Han Yuan impatiently asked. “Didn’t
you just see, in the Ten-Party Array? This old bag has a huge appetite, and
wants to stew us into pills. Heh… tell me this; there was a righteous-pather,
a sword cultivator, a gritty stone person, and me, a big devil, that you were
so casually trying to cook together in there. Were you not afraid of getting a
stomachache?”

At the time, the Ten-Party Array had been completely suppressed and
securely sealed by the outer Skeletonizing Array. Even though Cheng Qian
had possessed the bell that could control the array, it had been to no effect.
The three of them had been constantly watching the outside chaos via Zhe
Shi’s ring, as well as simultaneously trying to find a way out of the sealed
array like headless flies. Partway through, they had incidentally run into Wu
Changtian, and only then had Cheng Qian learned that there was not just
that bell within the array — it was unclear what artifact Wu Changtian had
used, but he had actually caused the array to ignore him and put out his own
candle.

Those circumstances had been unsuitable for internal strife, so the two sides
had to form a temporary alliance. Cheng Qian once again released the True
Dragon Flag; gathering the power of two dragons’ souls together alongside
the demonic dragon’s, he then managed to prop open a tiny slit in the sealed
array.

These few, appearing to have arrived like a heavenly army to save the show,
were actually in a pretty difficult bind after breaking out.

Wu Changtian placed his hand on his hilt, voice cold. “Third Prince, don’t
you feel yourself to have gone into qi deviation?”
The Prince turned to him, the corner of his mouth suddenly upticking.
“Changtian, I heard that the Sect Leader has decided on you to be his
successor… but is that true? I wonder, has he had the time to tell you about
some important things?”

Wu Changtian’s eye slightly twitched. “If he didn’t tell me, how could he
possibly tell you?”

The other licked the corner of his lips as he looked at him, his next words
full of meaning. “Secrets I want to know are not ones I need to hear from
his mouth… alas, your Sect Leader had profound achievements, so it’s a
shame that his aptitude was mediocre, and ultimately lacking a layer. Only
Tong Ru was once considered the world’s best, and so far, no one else has
been able to surpass him in hundreds of years. I’ve long wanted him, but
you lot forced him into the Valley of No Sorrow, and I haven’t ever been
able to fetch that precious corpse. There was Gu Yanxue, too… but he
preferred to be as broken jade and explode himself into pieces, meaning
I’ve already missed twice. If I don’t make a move again, I really will age.
Every one of you here now is merely passable, but it’s good that there’s so
many of you. I’ll just have to take on this difficult task.”

They grasped the implication of those words at the same time. Wu

Changtian’s entire body uncontrollably began to tremble.

By the gods, Yan Zhengming thought, there actually is someone in the

world that can completely refine other people into pills and eat them?

He swept a look at the Third Prince’s red mouth and white teeth, thinking
this to be utterly unbearable. That’s really gross!

“There’s nothing more nefarious than this, right?” Han Yuan asked from the
side, straight-faced. “He’s so evil, he puts me to shame.”

The next moment, he suddenly changed face, then coldly critiqued what
‘he’ had just said. “Shut up, moron.”

Wu Changtian abrupt bellowed, then hacked at the Prince’s chest. The

latter’s figure was like a ghost’s, floating freely through the air all over the
place. “I swallowed all of your Master’s cultivation. Do you think you’re
more powerful than he was?”

Wu Changtian’s eyes were crimson red. “Go die—!”

The Prince gently flicked out his sleeve, so gentle, it was like he was only
brushing away a flying flower that was in front of him. His form was quick
as a startled goose, and he breezily grasped the tip of Wu Changtian’s sword
of whirlwind-like power.

“If you want someone to blame, blame all of your predecessors,” the Prince
whispered. “They were deceived by Hear the Universe, and signed some
stupid Ten-Party Pledge…”

Wu Changtian’s sleeves swelled, and a clapping sound came from his

palms. Ebbing wind blew his hems out as he stirred up a vortex of
swordwind, then pelted it towards the Prince’s little white face.

Inside of that short sentence, the man had mentioned the two pieces of
‘Hear the Universe’ and ‘Ten-Party Pledge’. Cheng Qian’s heart skipped —
he had long been wondering why the forebears of Fuyao had signed for
their people to be constrained under the Demon Elimination Seal with the
Bureau, and had also linked up a heavy vow with the Sect Leader Seal.

Were those things related to the Pledge?

The array method had been called the Ten-Party Array. The pledge had
been called the Ten-Party Pledge. What was the connection between them?

Inside the Array, the demonic cultivator that had been shot with the ‘ear’
from his hand had said ‘I hear the uni-‘ right before his death. He hadn’t
understood at the time, but now that he thought of it, could it be that he had
been trying to say ‘I hear the universe’?

They all quickly shot each other looks, but not a one among them, Li Yun
included, appeared to understand the other two’s conversation.
Right then, a loud sound was heard. The two fleshy palms of the Prince,
which had been motionless, were seen to rise and chop down — he tore
open a hurricane out of thin air, and Wu Changtian’s entire body staggered,
nearly pitching him off of his sword.

The Prince came up before him in the blink of an eye. “Changtian, I don’t
think you’ve been taught properly.”

While he spoke, his white-jade-esque hands had already reached out for Wu
Changtian’s chest, making a seizing motion through the air.

Seeing that he was about to rip Wu Changtian open while he still lived, You
Liang shouted and flew forwards. At the same time, Yan Zhengming, who
had been busy giving looks towards all his juniors, finally arrived.

The image of a sword — which appeared to want to split open the world,
yet was also so dim, in had no light — came down from the sky. The Prince
held it up bare-handed once again, the two coming up close together.

At this collision, Yan Zhengming immediately frowned.

The Prince’s hands shook slightly beneath the wooden sword, but the
breezy grin on his face was unchanged. “Sword Spirit Realm… good. It’s
not the finest, but it’ll do. If you train for another fifty years… ah.”

“…”

This white-faced old monster was taking him for red-braised pork that
hadn’t been cooked for long enough yet!

Practically incensed, Yan Zhengming’s escaping sword qi abruptly slanted

outwards. Cheng Qian and Han Yuan tacitly knew to come up and flank
him from the left and right. Demonic qi, the most honest sword qi in the
world, and murderous intent forged in an ice pond all billowed over at the
same time, instantly submerging the Third Prince within them.

The latter’s roar reached the sky, and he flung his long, wide sleeves, their
shake-out appearing to give rise to a beautiful age of prosperity. Cheng
Qian suddenly felt Shuang Ren jolt slightly, giving off the intent to
backlash. A current of frigid frost was forced from its tip to its hilt, and his
inner sanctum momentarily suffered a huge shock, nearly knocking a
mouthful of blood out of him. Laboriously taking in a breath, he brought
away his sword and drew back.

The others were not much better off than he was. It was unknown what kind
of evil technique the Third Prince had, but he was able to totally swallow
everyone’s moves, then backlash them. A tiny strand of Yan Zhengming’s
hair had been pared off by his own sword qi, while Han Yuan’s face was
ashen, eyes beginning to go red as his blood and qi started to rush.

Right then, somebody mildly said, “Someone’s actually practiced this

method to its perfection.”

Li Yun raised his head; it was Tang Zhen that was speaking. It wasn’t clear
what artifact he was using, but he was gripping a bunch of spider’s silk in
his bone-like hands, trapping Xuan Huang for the time being. The ailed
scholar’s face was dark. “There was once someone that said that when
cultivators gather up true essence, they are absorbing the substance of the
Heavens and the Earth. Only by refining it into self-use can one forge the
body, train the spirit, have grand powers, and live longer than a hundred
years. Because of this, there was someone else that once thought up the
wildest thing: if one could refine these cultivators, who were made from
absorbing the world’s essential qi, into pills and eat them, wouldn’t they be
able to absorb that person’s skills and cultivation base?”

“What kind of person thought that?” Li Yun asked.

Tang Zhen smiled in mockery. “One that’s insatiable, and full to the point of
bursting, of course.”

Before his voice landed, Xuan Huang broke free of the silk all of a sudden,
his ji slicing down at Tang Zhen’s crown. “How much nonsense are you
going to say?!”

Li Yun’s thoughts turned rapidly; this looked to be a technique similar in

fundamentals to the yao race’s passing down of yao cores. “Xiao Qian,” he
shouted, “the True Dragon Flag—“

The dragon’s soul in the Flag could amplify the true essence a cultivator
poured into it by the thousands. Since it could tear open even the Ten-Party
Array, he didn’t have faith that this skinsack could still refine it!

The Third Prince’s face suddenly morphed. He jumped to throw himself at

Li Yun.

Shui Keng flapped her wings noisily in a desperate attempt to fly far away.
“You know that much, so what do we do if we attract his atten— Ah! How
can he fly faster than a bird?! Eldest brother! Eldest brother, help!”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

The fenghuang-descendant was on fire all over, and possessed a luminous

grace… given that she never spoke. The instant she spat out words, she was
completely unpresentable, and an utter disgrace.

He did not hesitate at all to release hundreds of thousands of true essence-

made swords, thus strictly confining the Prince inside them.

“Impudent!” the latter roared.

Yan Zhengming raised a brow. “Yeah, just a little.”

“Senior, don’t be a show-off!” Cheng Qian yelled. “Get out of the way!”

Right before he finished speaking, a dragon soul flew out of the Flag. It was
coated in bits of white frost, looking like its body was draped in pieces of
metal.

There was no way for the Third Prince to dodge this. He sucked in a deep
breath, and then his long sleeves waved; his cuffs were like a black hole,
and he actually swallowed up the dragon soul. His sleeves immediately
froze through, cold sweat showing up on his face. Concurrently, there was
sinking feeling in Cheng Qian’s hand, and the dragon bone cracked as it
broke into two chunks.
Everyone was horrified — he had been able to devour the dragon’s soul!

Li Yun snatched the down on Shui Keng’s neck, fiercely tugging it. “Little
sis, are you scared? Don’t run, shh— don’t be alarmed, any of you. Even if
he’s swallowed the dragon soul, he’d need time to refine it! If you don’t
take advantage of this to act, by the time he does finish refining it, none of
you will be enough to stuff the space between his teeth with!”

The instant that was said, Cheng Qian was the first to react. He circled
through one horizontally-slashing move, waves of expansive qi that
resembled a clear, lightly-breezy night pushing past. The Prince was indeed
impeded from swallowing that soul, and he dared not take himself to be a
sharp edge; right as he went to withdraw, Yan Zhengming’s sword was
already pressing down upon him.

In such an instant, Han Yuan’s hand moved before his mind did, seemingly
about to perform a move that would become Peng Journeys Thousands of
Li. Before his True Essence could be sent out, however, his body abruptly
changed ownership.

The heart demon sneered. “Joining in on the fun? You still remember a
couple of moves from Fuyao Wooden Sword? Those three-legged-cat arts
don’t need to make a public disgrace of themselves.”

Saying so, Han Yuan turned into a demonic dragon that went roaring in rage
up to the sky, as if he was pouring out all the hundred years of melancholy
in his chest until there was nothing left. The Skeletonizing Array jolted,
seemingly also shocked by this dense hostility and resentment.

Torrential demonic qi ended up completely cutting off the Prince’s means of

escape, yet the man’s form suddenly vanished. All anyone could hear was
an earth-shattering shriek.

Everyone briefly ceased their war amongst themselves, staring at the same
spot at the same time.

Only Tang Zhen was furrowing his brow.

Li Yun sighed in relief, at first, then detected something, bounding upwards
with a hiss. “Look out!”

Right as he said that, in the span of a spark, the entire eye of the
Skeletonizing Array shifted.

The Third Prince appeared to have transformed into a massive eddy, once
again inhaling all the sword qi, frost qi, and demonic qi that shrouded him.

His entire being had already become a ball of skin. His flesh looked to have
been pumped full of piss from a pig’s bladder, making it bulge until it was
shiny. His facial features were now deformed, eyes bulging out, and there
appeared to something worm-like crawling beneath his skin — it was
terrifying to see.

Great masters could split mountains and part seas using the overbearing
force of one blow, but could anyone truly devour a genuine dragon soul in
one bite?

The Prince reached up his hands that had been blown up with qi, then
calmly pressed his protruding eyeballs back in. “Why… was this a noted
use?” he asked in a delicate voice. “It truly lets one’s hopes down…”

A horrible conjecture quickly arose in Li Yun’s heart. “That’s it!” he

blurted. “He’s the array’s eye, and its machinations — he is the
Skeletonizing Array!”

“Turning a physical body into an array…” Tang Zhen tightened the webs in
his hands a little. “He’s worthy of someone that’s been an Emperor, with
that courage.”

“Senior Tang, be less sarcastic! You’re knowledgeable! Think of a way to

deal with this!”

Before Tang Zhen had the time to answer, this section of sky and ground
was seen to begin to close the distance between them — the Third Prince
was not staying his hand at all, intending to catch everyone in the array in
one go.
The Prince turned to Yan Zhengming with a smile. “Nice swords.”

Yan Zhengming’s hairs stood on end. The array’s weather swiftly changed,
and the primordial spirit he had just sent out quickly turned back towards
him. The next instant, the wooden sword he held surprisingly moved on its
own; using his connection to it, Cheng Qian came before him in the blink of
an eye.

“Xiao Qian!”

That matchless swordwill swept up to Cheng Qian, then abruptly morphed

into the exact same severe cold as he was. All at once, his entire body was
frozen within it, resembling an insect encased in amber. Shuang Ren rolled
downwards — Han Yuan was waiting to take it, only for a beam of light to
leak from the Third Prince’s sleeve, then sweep up both him and the sword
up inside it.

Yan Zhengming was entirely rooted to the spot for a moment.

Then, he noticed that Cheng Qian’s hair seemed to have white light flashing
on it, after which he returned to his senses; the other was still wearing his
puppet charm.

He spewed out the breath that had been stuck within him, chest right about
numb.

The sky and the ground were getting closer and closer together. Everyone
that had taken to the air with their swords was forced to land, only a few
zhang of height remaining.

Wu Changtian promptly flung away You Liang’s arm that was supporting
him, then created a string of hand gestures that were so complicated, they
were too much for one to keep up with.

You Liang’s eyes widened, all the color on his face draining away.

Wu Changtian pointed one hand at the sky and one at the ground, then
disappeared from where he had been standing. Shortly, a massive human
figure appeared behind everyone — Wu Changtian pressed against the
continuously-merging land and sky with his hands and feet, and his body
was forced to grow cun by cun, also lifting the falling sky up cun by cun.

For but a second, he looked like the deity Pangu from folklore, who had
split the sky and earth apart.

He observed the Third Prince, who was distant inside the array’s void.
“Your Majesty, you’ve devoured a hundred generations of skilled people. If
you devour the sky, the ground, the sun, and the moon, would you be able
to become a god?”

The Prince was no longer in a human shape. The wide, embroidered belt of
his robes didn’t have an intact corpse left of itself, and his robes had been
propped up by his body into becoming a globe that was packed full with the
splendor of the human world. Even his voice was not entirely clear.

“If I devour the mighty, I’ll become the mighty. If I devour the world, I’ll
become the world.”

Wu Changtian deeply inhaled, then let out a sky-shaking bellow. His body
sharply grew by more than a zhang, leaving huge footprints upon the
ground, while the Skeletonizing Array issued a sound like it was leaking air.

The Prince screamed, one of his plump arms promptly exploding.

Then, restrained sword qi converged itself from all directions. Yan

Zhengming’s wooden sword slashed out Peak with a momentum that
couldn’t be stopped. It was like the entire Sword Spirit Realm had been
overturned by this strike; inside the hidden realm of inheritance from the
Valley of the Heart Demon, the swordwill from their devisor, which he
hadn’t been able to look directly at, had been just like this.

“That’s true,” Yan Zhengming called. “If you devour the sun and moon,
you’ll be able to ascend and become a heavenly dog, old man!”

Could he swallow any more?

The Third Prince’s face finally betrayed the color of fear.

At the same time, the ball of light Han Yuan had swallowed now had a
crack split into it, after which the demonic qi belonging to demonic
cultivators, characteristically brimming with the stink of blood, leaked
outwards. The light was instantly wrapped inside a ball of black qi, and,
following a soft sound, the demonic dragon burst through the wall, then
landed as a transformed Han Yuan, who could be described as ‘bedraggled’.

He shook out his panlong robes with no change in expression, smiling

coldly. “The Three Lives Mystic Site, huh? Isn’t that for dealing with those
upright nobles that can’t let things go? Isn’t using it on me, the number one
devil in the land, a waste?!”

With that said, he flung something out of his sleeve. “Catch!”

It was Shuang Ren.

The sword, filled with the demonic dragon’s true essence, went flying
straight for Cheng Qian, then hit the thick ice hard. A small crack
immediately emerged on the ice’s surface.

The next instant, sword qi belonging to Dried Trees Meet Spring seeped out
from someplace undetectable. Like a vine, it accurately hooked its fingers
around Shuang Ren.

As long as there was one trace, there had to be life.

Gentle swordwill pulled the vicious sword away. A crisp noise was heard;
powerful true essence squeezed the whole way out of the crack, after which
the whole ice block instantly transformed into a heap of fine powder.

Cheng Qian’s lashes were covered in a layer of frost. The ribbon on the
back of his head froze solid, split apart, and gently floated down.

As soon as Shuang Ren shouldered the snowflakes that blanketed the sky
and were floating to the ground, they resembled an ice-cold cage, firmly
trapping the Third Prince where he stood.
With a loud sound, Yan Zhengming’s sword came.

Wu Changtian shouted in pain, simultaneously pushing against the sky

inside the Skeletonizing Array.

The sky and earth split apart with a bang. The Third Prince’s body made a
small bunch of noises like it was bursting apart, quickly after which he
shattered into a handful of useless ice.

The world inside the empty array cracked apart.

The Skeletonizing Array crumbled, as well.

Wu Changtian’s immense figure staggered a step. He appeared to lower his

head to look at You Liang.

His expression was both sorrowful and joyful. Soon, his entire body
vanished into thin air, his physical form turning into mist and going away
with the wind.

It blew over the day that seemed to have not been met for a long time.

Apparently, without any of them realizing it, one day and one night had
already passed, and dawn was breaking yet again.

You Liang was stupefied, unable to make one sound.

After a calamity, life was more precious. Regardless of whether they were
of the righteous path, demonic path, or Celestial Divination Bureau,
everybody was stunned where they stood, coming to quit their fighting at
the same time.

Han Yuan turned back to look at the Mystic Site that had long since
disappeared. It was unknown as to what he was remembering, but that face
that was forever switching between loss and pain or vicious cruelty now
showed something of an almost-tranquil smile.

Cheng Qian’s legs went soft. He used Shuang Ren to prop himself up
against the ground, but he lost his grip, stumbling and falling.
His arms had since lost strength. Over a single day, Shuang Ren had nearly
slipped from his hand twice. He struggled to grip it, blue veins on the back
of his hand jumping out.

Then, somebody caught him.

They were saying something into his ear. A familiar hand opened his mouth
and stuffed a pill into it; its bitter taste morphed into a wisp of pure qi,
which went from the point of hundred connections at his crown to permeate
all of his limbs and bones.

He snapped out of it, tensed body relaxing instantaneously. Oh, he thought,

it’s Yan Zhengming.

Thereafter, his hand that was desperately clinging to Shuang Ren loosened,
thus allowing it to fall to the ground without any worries.
[End Book Four: Decline from the Peak]
 LY 93

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[Book Five: Return to Trueness]

When Cheng Qian awoke, he was already inside the Stone Seed.

The sun had not yet risen up into the sky. The Seed had become the same
sort of tiny courtyard it had been back at Vermilion Bird Tower, with green
shade covering up blood. It was like a momentary paradise.

A hand was placed upon his forehead.

Cheng Qian pulled the hand down, opened his eyes, and discovered that he
was lying on the lap of his eldest senior.

Yan Zhengming’s palm held several fine new wounds, and upon a closer
look, it also had calluses left from wielding a sword for a long time. It
appeared to be covered with past hardships, while now, only the smooth-
looking back of this had remained so, still posing itself as being free and
easy.

Yan Zhengming allowed him to hold it, but wasn’t giving him a great
expression. His brows raised, giving him the look of an impatient eldest
child. “Since you’re awake, get up, quick. You’re making my legs numb.”

Cheng Qian was limp and powerless from head to toe, supporting himself
on his lap as he stared dead at him.
Yan Zhengming was uncomfortable from getting stared at by his open gaze.
“Did you nearly get frozen into a hopping corpse? That’ll teach you to show
off again next time…”

Cheng Qian wasn’t sure which of his muscles was misfiring, but all of a
sudden, without a bit of warning, he put the other’s hand up to his mouth,
then gently kissed the back of it.

Yan Zhengming was immediately unable to berate him anymore, sucking in

a tiny, cold breath brimming with self-restraint and minutely trembling at
the same exact time. Barely able to hold up his own unperturbed facade, he
was tongue-tied for a moment, feeling himself to be a bit soft on the
outside, burnt on the inside.

He grunted, then said in a low voice, “I can tell that you’re not seriously
hurt, since you still have the mind to flirt with your Sect Leader.”

While Sect Leader Yan said this, he was expressionless, and so composed,
he was a bit grave, as if he could immediately undertake the task of helping
a departed soul find peace; yet, his voice was so tender, water could be
wrung out of it, much restlessness showing through his deadly seriousness.

The implication of this was that he was absolutely eager to get flirted with
again.

What a pity it was that Cheng Qian didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.
His left hand carried his brimming, sincere feelings, his right held up fancy
yet trite and vapid words, and in the middle was an upright wooden stake
that had become able to prop up both the Heaven and the Earth.

That stake did not continue this topic, instead turning over, hugging Yan
Zhengming by the middle, and burying himself in his abdomen.

It was silent in the Stone Seed. The chaos outside turbulently flashed
through Cheng Qian’s mind; stuff about the ‘Ten-Party Pledge, ‘hearing the
universe, the righteous path, the demonic path… a million inconveniences
whistled past as they filed out of his heart. He was so unbearably exhausted
by it, he swept it all away with a sleeve, thinking to himself, Forget all that.
I’m going to take a nap first.

Yan Zhengming’s familiar scent had the aroma of bitter medicine mixed in
it. Nestled in his embrace, Cheng Qian’s mind calmed to clearness, and he
couldn’t help but remember that preposterous, late-morning dreamland in
Fuyao Estate.

He had gotten so old, yet the only married couples he had ever seen with his
own eyes were peasant men and village women partnering up to spend their
lives together — those mortals had done chores and quarreled all day long,
never any having particular affection gleaned off of them. In those years,
when he hadn’t been cultivating, he had been in seclusion, or drifting along
the world’s paths, and before he’d even had the time to learn in spite of his
ignorance, he’d gotten a pot of worldly love splashed right into his face,
like a duck forced to roost up high.

He could only rely on himself, feeling about randomly like a headless fly.

Yan Zhengming was caught off guard by such a hug, both of his arms
immediately suspending in midair at his sides. He froze, with no strength
whatsoever, for a short moment. Realizing that Cheng Qian had zero
intention to let him go, he thus asked, with amusement and helplessness,
“What are you doing?”

Cheng Qian slightly tilted his face, eyes half-open in his haze; there
appeared to be something of a foggy, exhausted smile in them as he looked
at him. “Senior…”

“…”

Half of Yan Zhengming’s soul had been hooked by that look, and he
involuntarily held his breath and stared at him. After waiting for a good
time, though, he could wait no longer for Cheng Qian to keep speaking; yet,
when he looked at him again, he had actually gone silent all on his own.

He fell asleep?
Yan Zhengming then realized that he had gotten a little overly excited.
Cautiously setting down his hands that nowhere to rest, he placed one on
Cheng Qian’s waist, while the other gathered up the hair that had scattered
over his knees. “Calling me, then not saying anything,” he mumbled to
himself. “You’re really getting more and more impudent.”

As soon as he said that, Cheng Qian, who was supposed to have since fallen
asleep, suddenly spoke up; very breezy, yet not ambiguous at all. “I don’t
know how to treat you properly, but no matter what, I won’t turn my back
on you.”

“…”

The second he heard that, Yan Zhengming was as dumbstruck as a wooden

chicken for a long moment. “What did you say?” he asked, as if he was
sleepwalking.

Important words being said once was already enough. Cheng Qian refused
to speak again, arms tightly hugging him as he slightly tilted his head down;
this time, he really was going to sleep.

Yan Zhengming, however, grabbed his shoulders and refused to let up,
chattering. “Copper Coin, what did you just say? Say it again!”

Getting forcibly called awake by him on repeat, Cheng Qian grew annoyed,
thinking, You’re so damn noisy. Can’t you let a guy rest?

Yet, when those words arrived at his lips, he could not break them out of
them, shocked to discover that there had come a day where he couldn’t bear
to scold him.

He thus held up a finger to his mouth, eyes as closed as ever. The corners of
his lips slightly upturned, revealing an unsound smile.

Yan Zhengming’s eyes shortly went a bit hot around the rims, and a breath
got caught up in his chest. After a little while, he felt a slight ache arise.
He had always suspected that Cheng Qian had only acted how he had in the
Valley of the Heart Demon due to witnessing his demon, and for the
expedient maneuver of not having him be trapped by it; things he might not
have been heartfelt about, or truly comprehensive of.

Even if he had been heartfelt, were his cultivation to be delayed because of

this in the future, would he not have regrets?

Upon hearing these words, he suddenly felt that, even if Xiao Qian truly did
get annoyed with or tired of him one day, cherishing them would be enough
to support him all the way through the endless life of a cultivator.

Beyond that, Cheng Qian always kept his promises. There was no one in the
world that was clearer on that than him.

The Ten-Party Array at the foot of Tai Yin finally turned into a farce.

Tang Zhen’s giant eight-trigram plate had been made from some kind of
unknown deity, because it didn’t shatter until the Ten-Party Array had been
broken, harmoniously falling down from the sky and landing upon the sea
of blood and mountain of corpses.

The blood oath was still in place, so, according to the agreement, the
current situation dictated that the magic cultivators’ side had lost.

What a pity it was that no one really cared about winning or losing for right
now.

The Third Prince had blown up and died, the Skeletonizing Array broken.
The cultivators, having caught their breaths, had then flocked to bring down
Xuan Huang, who had been in a gridlock with Tang Zhen for quite a long
time.

After this was done and over with, the crowd filled with enmity exchanged
looks, having pretty much no idea where they should start speaking from
here.
It had been the Celestial Divination Bureau who had used the ancient
Demon Elimination Seal to force various major sects over here in a war
with the demonic cultivators. Despite said war having a strong start yet
weak end, many experts had died within the Ten-Party Array, the
Skeletonizing Array had been buried partway through the Bureau’s revolt,
trap, and disturbance of the peace, and the Third Prince’s power of hiding
spies in every sect had killed more than the Ten-Party Array had, which was
another debt of blood that had nowhere to be paid.

Conversely… the one that had broken the Skeletonizing Array with his
body, thus freeing everyone from it, had been that same Bureau member.

Love triangles already made one distressed enough, to say nothing of this
hate triangle.

The foot of Tai Yin had desolation filling the eye, with corpses upon
corpses being collections and wounds upon wounds being healed. The Nine
Sages were dead, and most of the demonic cultivator crowd had suffered
injuries; they could be described as leaderless. Out of the fear of suffering
losses, they all departed in succession.

According to the agreement, Han Yuan ought to be going with the Bureau
to the capital, but its members had massacred each other until not many
remained; Wu Changtian was dead, Xuan Huang was getting hung up for
mass criticism by all the major sects, and You Liang had carried Wu
Changtian’s clothes away dispiritedly. No one was around anymore, leaving
behind a bunch of small fry that were really too afraid to provoke him, even
with the blood oath’s suppression.

In result, the number one devil of the land was crouched boredly at the
doorway of the Stone Seed, not entering, nor going too far away.

Li Yun came out from the Seed, then observed him with complicated
emotions for a time. His raised had hung in the air for a good amount of
time, after which it sadly fell back down — he had been in a bit of a daze,
but the one before him was no longer that kid that had followed after him to
look for bird nests.
Han Yuan turned back to look at him upon hearing the noise, not making a
sound.

“What are you planning on doing?” Li Yun asked.

Han Yuan tranquilly pondered this. “Will what I say matter?” he asked,
slightly mocking.

Li Yun had nothing to say to that.

“Is Cheng Qian still alive?” Han Yuan asked again.

“…He’s just lacking in strength. His aura will harmonize after a minute.”

“Is that so? Your Sect Leader Yan looked so worried just now, it was like
his wife was about to give birth.”

“…”

Han Yuan looked up at the tiny courtyard the Stone Seed had transformed
into, and caught sight of Shui Keng sitting on the wall far away, looking at
him, yet not coming over.

It could be that she didn’t have anything to say, or that she feared him.

Who made him say that he was going to draw out her skeleton?

Han Yuan appeared to mock himself, then appeared to laugh cynically.

Sensing that he was probably a bit of an obstruction here, he turned and
went for the remnants of the Ten-Party Array.

After wavering for a while, Li Yun suddenly called out to stop him.

The other looked like he had back when he had admitted at the mountain
cave pool that he had intentionally tricked Han Yuan into going to the back
of the mountain, seemingly like he had to drum up a great amount of
courage to speak. “You are aware that Fuyao Mountain not opening to this
day is because Master added a three-path lock of the Heavens, the Earth,
and humanity inside of the Sect Leader Seal?”
Han Yuan raised a brow slightly as he looked at him coldly, as if saying,
“This is an internal matter of your sect. What does it have to do with me?”

Li Yun gazed back at him steadily. “To open the lock of humanity, we’ll
need the true essence of five people — five, including you.”

Hearing this, Han Yuan was surprised at first, following which his face
spasmed slightly, as if he had been slapped by the person he was closest to,
heart senselessly welling up with dejected grievances that he had no place
to recount to.

“Xiao Yuan,” Li Yun lightened his voice to ask, “was that really the Three-
Lives Mystic Site that fell out of the Third Prince’s sleeve? What did you
see inside?”

The other sneered. “I saw all of you dead. Happy?”

With those estranged-sounding, cold words, Li Yun said nothing for a

moment, yet his face held sorrow.

Right then, Shui Keng, as she was up on the wall of the Stone Seed,
suddenly started to speak. “The Mystic Site is considered to be part of the
path of heaven. Our Fuyao sect has only ever walked the path of humanity
since ancient times. With those that are irrelevant, who trusts who… who…
uh, that’s… that’s what…”

That final piece was clearly rather vulgar, as she was too afraid to say it,
stammering out a mess.

Whether it was the words in front or the rude words in back, that hadn’t
sounded much like her typical manner of speaking. Han Yuan lightly
smiled. “Tell Sect Leader Yan to mind his own business for me, won’t
you?”

With that, he walked a few steps away, then suddenly stopped, swapping
owners again in the blink of an eye.
This Han Yuan even turned to smile at Li Yun, immediately after which he
drew a palm-sized scale out from a pocket. “Second senior, go on and hand
this over to our eldest.”

Li Yun reached out to catch the dragon scale that came flying right at him; it
appeared to be stained with ink, faintly glimmering beneath the sunlight,
and he could sense the gently-flowing true essence within it with his hand
placed on its surface.

After he was done talking, Han Yuan took large strides up onto the tall
platform of the remnant Ten-Party Array, then sat down cross-legged like
no one else was around, as if he was provoking the entire world on purpose:
I’m right here. What can you even do to me?

Li Yun held the black dragon scale in hand as he observed it for a minute,
then waved at Shui Keng. “Give it to the Sect Leader.”

“Why don’t you do it?” she inquired.

Not to be reasoned with, Li Yun stuffed the scale to her, face blank. “Go,
now. Can my status as your senior still not make you move?”

She accepted the scale, understanding nothing, then flipped into the Stone
Seed and barged right in.

Unexpectedly, the second she entered, she saw what she should not be
seeing — Cheng Qian was currently laying on Yan Zhengming’s lap with
no propriety. On him were dirt-stains where there weren’t blood-stains, and
further areas that had been scorched, while their eldest, who would whine
and holler for half the day whenever anyone else forgot to wash their hands
once, actually leaned over without reservation and kissed him on the brow.

One of her feet was stuck upon the threshold, neither entering, nor
withdrawing. She held the scale up in a posture of pledging an oath,
flabbergasted.

I’m going to grow sties… no, I’m going to be silenced! she thought.
Yan Zhengming looked like he had since received the greatest reliance in
the world. He looked up at Shui Keng with near calm, his mannerisms calm
as he hushed his voice to ask, “What is it?”

Meeting with his gaze, she shuddered harshly, then blurted out, “Wh…
when I’m a ghost, I’m not going to let Li Yun off!”

“…”

After snapping out of it, she hurriedly set the black dragon scale down.
“Uh, nevermind. Fourth brother told me to bring this to you.”

He nodded. “Did you say what I told you to tell him?”

“…I did. He told me to pass back to you that you should mind your own
business.”

He huffed, cursing something out. Upon looking up and catching sight of

Shui Keng still staring dead at them, he coughed dryly. “What are you
looking at? Do you have anything else?”

That utterance appeared to frighten her fragile heart. She jolted, and then,
without further word, frantically fled… stumbling on the threshold right
before she left.

Han Yuan sat on the remnant array site for three days, and the crowd had
still not talked over a statute. The demonic dragon was akin to a hot potato;
when not captured, everyone hated that they couldn’t execute him
immediately, but when captured, nobody knew how they ought to handle
him.

He had gone from Nanjiang all the way up North, creating rivers of blood
by the wayside and giving rise to a catastrophe. That could be described as
heinous, a crime worthy of execution.

If he had died in the Ten-Party Array, that would have been the best ending.
Yet, not only had he refused to die, but he had lived with not a piece of him
missing, nor a decrease in his cultivation.
This was quite troublesome.

The Fuyao Sect was now avoiding suspicion and refusing to speak out. The
Bureau had caused this miss, so it didn’t have the face to speak out. The
remaining two superpowers of the Four Sages had never shown up, merely
sending sect members whose words forever weighed very little, and had
further been gravely injured by the Bureau’s treachery, thus having no spare
time to care.

Tang Zhen had been tending to wounds all this time. The other sects either
didn’t have enough weight, or refused to offend Fuyao over this. No one
dared to stand up and say “We should kill this guy.”

The situation was in a deadlock.

When Fuyao’s few came out of the Stone Seed, they saw that Han Yuan,
who should have been a prisoner, was sitting upright on the array platform
and looking down upon the land.

Yan Zhengming waved his hand to stow the Seed away. Each of the sects
immediately cast their gazes over at the same time, which ended with Liu
Lang coming up and asking deferentially, “Senior Tang sent me to inquire;
what destination will you be heading to, Sect Leader Yan?”

“We have been traveling abroad for many years, so it’s time we ought to
return to the sect,” the other answered. “I intend to return and open Fuyao
Mountain. If Brother Tang does not disdain it, there is no harm in him
coming over to stay for a while.”

Those listening with their ears perked up promptly went to exchange

whispers with those beside them. A few years back, the name ‘Fuyao’ had
still been unknown; after the Immortal Binding Platform and the event at
Tai Yin Mountain, there was likely nobody that didn’t know about it.

Even all the Nanjiang devils had widespread rumors of rare treasures being
on Fuyao Mountain, so it naturally everyone was curious.

Unfortunately, none of them had the guts to pry.

Right then, Liu Lang asked the second question that everyone was
concerned over.

“Congratulations to you, then. Senior Tang also requested that I ask: what is
your stance on the demonic dragon?”

Yan Zhengming shot a glance at the not-far-away Tang Zhen. Refusing to

be the first to betray his intent, he said, “This matter should have been
decided by the Celestial Divination Bureau, but since their people aren’t
here, I should let the impartial party of Brother Tang speak on this, yes?”

Tang Zhen clasped his fist from afar. “I wouldn’t dare to. Everyone here has
suffered so much loss from the Skeletonizing Array, I believe it would be
better for this matter to be postponed, so that everyone can report back to
their sects after tidying up. Can we agree to meet here on the fifteenth of
next month to discuss this again?”

Saying as much, he turned to Han Yuan, voice mild. “I believe that with
your character, Zhenren Han, you’d certainly dislike suffering backlash
from the blood oath by fleeing.”

Han Yuan snorted coldly, not even raising his eyelids.

Ahead was a prodigious comparison to the Third Prince, who had claimed
to be of the righteous path of the human world. If Han Yuan actually did
abide by his promise by confining himself inside the remnant array for one
month, he would look considerably principled.

Furthermore Tai Yin was at Fuyao’s foot, meaning that the major sects
might actually let him slip the net out of regards for Fuyao’s face. Yan
Zhengming felt like clarity was in his heart; knowing that Tang Zhen was
appearing to be impartial, yet actually intended to let Han Yuan free, his
heart settled.

Yan Zhengming glanced at Han Yuan, thinking, His death wouldn’t even
settle this. This dickbag deserves to suffer out in the wind and rain for a
month.
Thus, he said with decisiveness, “Let’s go.”

Below Tai Yin, the crowd of cultivators gradually scattered. Tang Zhen
accepted the invitation to go with everyone to Fuyao Mountain.

The three locks were fully open. Standing at the base of the mountain, Yan
Zhengming took in a deep, soundless breath. Where no one could see,
Cheng Qian lightly placed his hand on his waist.

The stardust inside the Sect Leader Seal converted, the spiritual
consciousnesses of generations past overlapping together to conform with
that distant mountain.

In their early years of wandering the land, they had dared not to mention
this old place out of fear that others would covet it, but now it could finally
reappear into the world with honor; no one dared to invite themselves in,
and no one dared to humiliate and despise them.

Over this past century, Yan Zhengming had been helpless in the presence of
this mountain seal order, with its three paths that seemed to be forever
unable to be opened, countless times, despaired countless times, and
complained about their Master countless times. Only now did he understand
the deep meaning therein.

Had he not undergone polishing, how would he have been able to take on
such a heavy ancestral estate?

With an enormous bang, Fuyao Mountain opened.

A hundred years had passed in the human world. The scenery was the same
as ever, with cranes perched on the tips of branches coming and going
excitedly between the mountains.

On the mountain’s waist was the shaded, bombastic calligraphy of the

mountain’s plaque, and at its base, the thatched Hall of Ignorance their
Master had used, inharmonious with its surroundings, could vaguely be
seen.
Time seemed to have stopped here for these hundred years. Not a thing
appeared to have changed. The Daoist children that they hadn’t taken with
them back in the day were still standing by on either side of the mountain
gates, stretching, as if they had only just awoken from a brief nap. They all
looked at the few that had left home when young in shock, nearly too afraid
to recognize them.

The mountain-sealing order dissipated with the wind, and the frozen time
finally became as thawing water, gurgling as it flowed once again.

Far away, Han Yuan sat alone inside the Ten-Party Array. When he quietly
lifted his head, he was already dripping with tears.

The translator says: no home for you. you’re in timeout, bucko

 LY 94

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I see all your likes and comments~ Thanks in advance~]

This chapter was suggested by an Advisor Donor.

When Yan Zhengming had left Fuyao Mountain, he had been no more than
seventeen. Once slightly over twenty, he had focused on honing the sword,
and his features had grown without much change.

Now, his primordial spirit had stepped into the Sword Spirit Realm. Though
his features had not been even a tiny bit dyed by the traces of the years, his
bearing was leagues different.

The two gate-watching kids exchanged a look, some second thoughts in

their hearts. Fuyao Mountain was a paradise of few visitors, and the visitors
had never seen such greatly powerful people before without their master
present.

They shook with some fear. After a long while of hesitation, the slightly
older one rallied the courage to stand in front of his companion and step
forward.

He was too afraid to raise his eyes, respectfully bowing out level. “Our Sect
Leader went out for a trip yesterday, and his date of return is unknown. All
of you immortals have come at an inopportune time. Dare I ask your names,
so that I may report them later?”

The slightly younger child was about twelve, with a round face that hadn’t
shed its baby fat. He stared straight at their group from a few steps away.
Yan Zhengming choked. He wanted to say, “You don’t even recognize
me?”, but when the words came up to his lips, he suddenly realized that he
couldn’t recall the names of these two kids, either.

It was like he had returned to his previous life, gazing out across a hundred-
year River of Forgetfulness — he had memory of everything, yet their
images weren’t quite solid.

There was a saying amongst the people that ‘youths that leave the home are
aged when they return.’ This was probably that feeling, huh?

Suddenly, the younger Daoling blinked, then exclaimed in alarm. “Ah,

Brother Teng Huang! This man looks like our Young Lord!”

Ah, right. The kid was called Teng Huang… Yan Zhengming quickly
remembered that these Daolings had been servants of the Yan family, which
had meticulously selected a bunch of them to send with him when he had
left. Plus, to simplify things, he had bestowed them all with the names of
pigments, like a palette. At the time, he had been so spoiled, he had obeyed
no laws nor gods, nor had he committed a single one of the people coming
and going from his side to memory, heartlessly and instantly forgetting the
names he had come up with himself.

That title of ‘Young Lord’ had not been heard in a very long time. Once the
group heard it, they all began to laugh.

“Fuyao has been sealed for over a hundred years, but it’s only been a day
and a night for you all,” Li Yun said with a smile. “Looks like you don’t
know much time has passed; he isn’t your Young Lord now, but your Sect
Leader. I’m Li Yun, remember?”

Teng Huang’s eyes went wide. He stood there for a while in disbelief. “A
hundred years?”

His gaze swept out aimlessly, and he happened to catch sight of the large
locust tree at the foot of the mountain, which had a thick trunk and
luxuriant, many-leaved branches.
He stared at it in a daze for a while, then murmured, “The Sect Leader
planted that before he left, and he said that when it had grown a few times
around, you would all be back…”

Now, it already looked to be covered in pavilions.

Teng Huang futilely counted on his fingers for a short moment. It was
unknown what amount he had counted up, but he lifted his head after, then
tried hard to see a bit of familiarity in everyone’s faces. “You’re S-Second
Uncle… and Third Uncle! Didn’t you just go up the mountain with the Sect
Leader the year before? You were only so big and tall… Gods…”

His gaze fell upon Shui Keng, and he hesitated, too afraid to name her.

“I’m Han Tan,” she said.

Even though he had had a guess, seeing this one grow up overnight was still
a bit hard to digest.

“The Young Lord is the Sect Leader? What about Sect Leader Han?” the
younger child bluntly asked. “And why didn’t you come back with him?”

As soon as that was said, everyone’s expressions went glum. Upon seeing
this situation, Teng Huang, who was the best at weighing words and
observing expression, swiftly gave his friend a smack. “Since you can talk
so much, go up the mountain and make a report, now! Don’t let them be
neglected! The Young Lord… pah, the Sect Leader and the rest have
returned!”

Fuyao Mountain became quite lively. At this interim, all of its living things
abandoned their posts to come see — who could have expected that after
they had taken a mere doze, they would wake up to an entirely new sun and
moon?

Even the crane circling the front of the Hall of Ignorance swooped down,
alert; even though Shui Keng’s appearance had undergone major change, it
still remembered her scent.
After nuzzling against her, it stretched its neck out to gaze down the
mountain, as if believing that another would also come back.

Shui Keng had the most shallow recollection of the Mountain, silently
lagging all the way to the back and unable to fully take in these familiar, yet
unfamiliar sights. She looked and looked, and then remembered something,
lowering her head with some loneliness.

“What’s wrong, young miss?” someone beside her asked.

She looked up; it was their guest, Tang Zhen. She didn’t know him well, but
in the Skeletonizing Array, he had saved her life from Xuan Huang, so she
had a big of a cordiality towards him.

Pausing for a bit, she then forced out a smile. “I’m over a hundred years
old, Senior. I’m not a young miss.”

“In your Red Crane clan, one’s bones aren’t even fully grown in a hundred
years. How are you not a young miss?”

Upon hearing the name ‘Red Crane’, her forced smile gradually dimmed,
and she sighed. “I’m not a real Red Crane.”

“Why do you say that?”

Despite that being a question, he didn’t look at all surprised. He appeared to

never be surprised at anything at all.

Shui Keng was not her second senior of very devious heart; she didn’t have
much caution towards others, let alone someone that had such a deep
relationship with the Fuyao Sect, so she explained without any hesitation.
“My mom was the Yao Empress of Yao Valley in the back of the mountain,
but my dad wasn’t the Yao King. I was born of the Yao Empress and a
human.”

Tang Zhen apparently hadn’t expected her to be so frank, startling slightly.

“I heard that after I was born, I stayed inside my egg for over a hundred
years, and everyone else believed that I was a dud. My mom placed me on
the Immortal Overlook Platform, which she died from trespassing on. I’ve
never see my father before, so I don’t know if he’s still alive, let alone his
name. My surname is our Master’s, and my name was randomly blurted out
by our eldest… but that’s not a name that gets used often. I don’t hear it
more than a few times a year because my seniors go ’Shui Keng, Shui
Keng’ all day long. It’s like, as long as they’re not wanting to scold me,
they won’t remember that name at all.”

Despite her grumbling, there was broad lack of care within her words.
Amused by her, the sickly look on Tang Zhen seemed to ebb a little.

She then scratched her nose, abandoning all hope. “In any case, my second
brother says that I’m a mixed-breed chicken that my father doesn’t want
and mother doesn’t love. Now that we’re back at Fuyao, I might be meeting
people from Yao Valley every New Year’s. I’m not sure what the Yao King
will think once he sees the green hat that I am.”

Tang Zhen paused. Right as he opened his mouth in want to comfort her,
she blinked, then attempted to find excuses for herself. “Oh, but that’s
nothing, really. I heard that the Yao King’s heart is only as big as the tip of a
needle, where he always wanted to kill me when I was egg, but now that the
Sect Leader is here, he won’t dare to do anything to me. If he tries to trip
me up any after he sees me, I’ll be able to avenge myself! Haha, if he rages
himself to death, the next Yao King might be me!”

This mixed-breed chicken was quite ambitious. Tang Zhen quietly

swallowed what he was going to say back down, smiling. “Well-spoken.”

Shui Keng ran a few steps ahead, then forcefully patted the sad-looking
Nian Dada. “Nephew, the dead can’t be revived, but your dad was still a
cultivator with a primordial spirit! As long as his spirit didn’t die, he’ll be
able to reincarnate. When you officially enter the sect later on, I’ll bring
you up the nine-story Library Tower. There has to be a way to look for a
reincarnation in there!”

He looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “Thank you, Aunt.”

He had been a noisemaker before, able to play two roles as one person, but
now he had apparently settled down after a great tragedy.

Nian Dada raised his head to view the Mountain. The magnificence of the
human world flashed past in his eyes like a blur. Not caring about it, he
merely thought to himself, Was it because I’m too useless?

Inadvertently turning his head, Cheng Qian happened to catch sight of the
look in the eyes of his easily-earned disciple, and his heart suddenly moved.

Every young person’s spirits apparently began with this ‘I’m too useless’
look. The world spun like each and every generation was one complete
revolving, and it continued to spin.

Yan Zhengming suddenly hauled him over from the side. “Hey, why are
you always looking at what he’s doing?” he whispered, unhappy. “Why
don’t you look at me more?”

“…”

He was now regretting what he had said in the Stone Seed, because he knew
that their eldest senior, who was a complete expert at taking advantages,
was going to walk all over him.

Fuyao Mountain was a place of pure cultivation, in the end, so flashy

displays of joy were unsuitable.

In the evening, Yan Zhengming merely called everyone over, as a simple,

open-air banquet had been arranged before the lecture hall.

The cook had been specially sent here by the Yan family, back in the day.
When the dishes were being served, he was a bit dazed — hadn’t the Young
Lord and his juniors been growing in body and snacking just a day ago?

In a wink, they were now abstaining from grains and alcohol!

During the feast, Cheng Qian packed something up, then left by himself.
Tai Yin was over fifty li from Fuyao, but it took no more a moment by
sword.

The remnant bloody aura surrounding the Ten-Party Array lingered without
dissipation. The people were all long gone. Some of the dead, no one had
buried, the corpses lying alone, waiting to become one with the world.

Han Yuan entire self appeared to have already become the darkness.

Upon hearing deliberately heavy footsteps, Han Yuan slanted his head,
expression overcast. It was unclear whether this was his original self, or his
heart demon that wasn’t prone to talking much.

Cheng Qian held Shuang Ren in hand, silently walked over, then sat down
next to him, pulling out an oilpaper parcel from a pocket.

There was a tiny oil stain on the bag’s edge, and it was still warm. He threw
it into Han Yuan’s hands, brushed away the dust on the remnant array, and
sat again.

Han Yuan opened it, then saw that there was a bundle of translucent,
sparkling pine nut candy inside, which was mixed in with the veiled aroma
of osmanthus. Each one had been sliced into thumb size, and were
separated, none sticking together.

This major devil was dumbstruck for a moment. He didn’t say anything
rude, nor did he cry with gratitude, merely taking one and stuffing it into his
mouth.

His cheeks were so thin, the bone could be seen, giving him the cutting look
of a hard life, and with a piece of candy stuffed in them, they bulged. His
face was still stained with blood while he savored the stuff too seriously,
furrowing his brows and looking bitterly hate-filled, as if he was
swallowing down medicine.

His mouth kept going. In seconds, even the crumbs were gathered up
together, then dumped into his mouth as he boldly threw his head back.
Cheng Qian got a bit of a toothache just from watching him. “Want a
drink?”

“Yeah. This is cloying me to death.”

The other made a hand sign. A small bit of frigid qi solidified in midair,
turning into a lumpy cup, which he passed over once he drew some water
into it.

Han Yuan drank it dry in one gulp, then sighed. “The first sweet thing I ever
ate in my life… was pine nut candy.”

“Our eldest gave it to you.”

Han Yuan gave him a look. “You gave it to me. I thought it inconceivable,
back then; I was thinking that if something so delicious had been around,
those young beggars would have risked their lives fighting over it, yet you
had actually given it to me so casually. You were either stupid, or too nice
to me.”

Cheng Qian smiled. “I was neither. I didn’t like our eldest at the time at all,
so I didn’t feel like eating anything of his.”

Han Yuan was quiet for a minute, then grinned. “That seems right.”
Immediately after that, he asked, “Is it okay?”

There was no need to elaborate; Cheng Qian knew that he was talking about
Fuyao Mountain, so he gave a ho-hum nod. “It’s the same as ever… wait
until you get back, so you can see it for yourself.”

Han Yuan paused, smiling grotesquely. “Don’t tease me, little senior. What
did Master say to you, right before he died? ‘Those who unforgivably sin
must be personally cleaned up by those of their sect.’ Did even you get
affected by too much sugar?”

Cheng Qian turned his head to look at him steadily. “Are your sins
unforgivable?”
The other’s expression slightly shifted, and in an instant visible to Cheng
Qian, that cowardly Han Yuan ran off again, and the one he was speaking
with became the heart demon.

Demon-Han Yuan shot him a lazy glance. “The Bureau is now as hated as a
rat crossing the street, and as I see it, the imperial family is practically
ruined, their fates exhausted. Someone will inevitably revolt. My anger has
been vented, and my heart is light. Whether I’ve sinned or not is your call.”

Cheng Qian shook his head, dodging any answer. He looked at the frosted
moonlight. “I’m going. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I want milk cake, then.” Han Yuan rubbed his own stomach, then added,
“It’s too sweet… makes you uncomfortable afterwards. Bring me half of a
chicken, too.”

The other waved his hand. Shaung Ren shot out like a meteor, and he was
gone.

By the time he returned to Fuyao, the banquet had already disbanded. He

headed straight for his own Residence of Peace, where Teng Huang was
awaiting him.

Noticing that he looked a bit tense, Teng Huang came forward and took his
sword. “The Young— Sect Leader is here.”

“Ah. I came to study the Wish-Granting Stone of our sect’s forebears,” Sect
Leader Yan covered up, and badly.

Cheng Qian glimpsed the legendary ‘offering for the Tower of No Regrets’
upon the Stone — he only saw that a wine pot was impolitely placed upon
it. He didn’t expose him. “What have you found?”

Yan Zhengming glanced at Teng Huang, who had just been transferred over
to the Residence.

The boy wasn’t too old, but he was clever. Immediately realizing that he
was being an eyesore, he quickly found an excuse to flee.
“What did you go to do?” Yan Zhengming asked.

Cheng Qian didn’t answer, only smiling.

The other immediately understood, and asked no further, merely patting his
extended hand onto the wine pot. “Don’t move. Wine is nothing to you, so
I’ll pour a cup.”

Cheng Qian’s gaze landed upon the Stone, which he had used as padding to
copy an unknowable amount of scriptures. Even when closing his eyes, he
could silently count out the notches on its surface. He placed his hand upon
it, and the light of remote orchids shining upon it made said hand as white
as jade.

Yan Zhengming saying that he was looking at the stone had just been an
excuse. At this moment, he started staring at Cheng Qian’s hand single-
mindedly, intermittently drinking as he also drank his junior in.

Cheng Qian suddenly frowned. “Huh?”

“What is it?” the other asked absently.

“I’m getting the sense that there’s something circulating the Stone.”

This Stone had been like a pool of water before, but it had been nothing
more than dead, stagnant water. Now, though, he could sense the light and
shadow fluctuating within it, as if it was alive.

Hearing this, Yan Zhengming took out a small bottle from his sleeve, then
squeezed out a few drops of grass-juice-looking liquid from it. It spread out
on the Stone’s surface, then quickly condensed into a square-cun film.

When looked at through the film, the texture of the stone appeared to be
magnified by a countless number of times, making its exquisite quality able
to be clearly seen.

Cheng Qian came in close. “What is this? Something of second brother’s

making?”
“Mhm. It’s one thing he’s good for… this is called Blockeye Leaf Juice. It
can generally be used for fine fluctuations or blinding techniques, where a
few drops of it will magnify things to the surface.”

The two waited for a time, only to witness the liquid film completely
vanishing, no change to be seen.

On the contrary, when Cheng Qian had approached, the airflow brought
about by his breathing finely brushed against Yan Zhengming’s face,
making his affection involuntarily drift about.

He stared at Cheng Qian’s profile, but upon remembering his own history,
he leaned his upper body backwards and gave a dry cough. “It’s been so
many years. Maybe your senses are off?”

After that, his eyes vaguely peered around the inside of the Residence. “It’s
still quiet here. It always makes me feel that there’s immortal qi in that
bamboo forest out back, which would be suitable for seclusion.”

He kind of regretted that as soon as he said it. Though he had planned to

hang about here and not leave, he didn’t want to sound like he was in such a
hurry.

This feeling was unlike that of an eldest senior… but of a lecher.

Those acting as senior brothers would always feel that it was bad to have
too little sense of shame.

However, Cheng Qian did not hear his implication at all, and answered
absent-mindedly, “You’re going into seclusion?”

“…”

Unromantic idiot.

Cheng Qian actually went on to make a lot of sense. “Right. You’ve been
scrambling all over the place ever since you entered the Sword Spirit
Realm, with no chance whatsoever to seclude yourself and consolidate your
state. On top of that, I didn’t have deep comprehension of swordwill when I
refined that wooden sword, so you really should refine it again… um,
what’s wrong?”

Yan Zhengming looked at him sullenly.

“Is this about the wooden sword…?” Cheng Qian asked, understanding
nothing. “…Haven’t we already come out?”

Not only was it impossible for him to empathize well with others, but he
was great at bringing up that which should not be spoken of.

Yan Zhengming stood up while lifting the wine pot. “You wish,” he said
angrily. “Anyone ‘coming out’ with you would get mad just seeing you. I’m
leaving.”

Cheng Qian rapidly went over the words he had just said in his head, then
had a flash of realization. “Hey, senior!”

Yan Zhengming held some hope.

While the frost was heavy in the dead of night, Cheng Qian suddenly
thought, He came over at this time without any proper business. What is the
meaning of him saying a few words, then leaving?

As soon as that thought arose, his throat went a little dry, but then he
thought, If I tell him not to leave in the middle of the night, wouldn’t that be
rude? He spazzes a lot; what if he doesn’t have that implication?

After inwardly weighing things, he still felt it a bit rude, so his words took a
turn.

“If you hate how noisy anyplace else is, you can come into seclusion here,”
he said, heartfelt. “I’ll stand guard for you.

I’ll seclude your head from your damn shoulders, Yan Zhengming thought.
You’re going to anger me to death.

Thus, he made not a sound, and, using a pace that looked like a striding
meteor, spent no less than an incense stick worth of time dawdling all the
way to the Residence’s gate, where the doorsill of the small courtyard was
wedged with non-existent mud.

Since you didn’t keep me around, I can only go, Sect Leader Yan thought to
himself, completely unhappy.

The translator says: At that last bit at the end there, with YZM’s mental scolding, ‘seclusion’ literally means ‘closing off’.
Meanwhile, forehead is literally ‘brain/mind gate’. So his threat was more like ‘i’ll slam shut your goddamn brain gate’, which…
is funny by itself, but doesn’t work, haha.
RIP Sect Leader Yan, he tried to get some but got none.
 LY 95

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Yan Zhengming’s soles nearly got stuck and came off. Cheng Qian was still
watching him from afar, wanting to say something but stopping; he looked
to be at a bit of a loss, and also helpless.

The other had been like this as a child; he hated cold stools and would
refuse to sit on them, standing there with a look full of displeasure as he
said not a thing, waiting for his crowd of maidservants and Daolings to
fathom his thoughts. In any case, with such a giant group of Daolings
around, there had always been a few clever ones that could react in time and
save him the talking.

What a shame it was that there was only the wooden lump called Cheng
Qian around, and not anyone accustomed to this defect of his.

Humanity and divinity warred in Yan Zhengming’s head for a minute, and
then he suddenly figured a way out of his ‘desperate situation’, mind taking
an unexpected turn. Since he was so bold as to say that stuff in the Stone
Seed, how about I be a bit shameless?

Hence, he tilted his head back and drank down all the wine in the jade pot,
the alcohol strengthening his resolve. Turning around his prow, he went for
Cheng Qian with a dignified look, passed through the Residence’s
courtyard, and bluntly declared to him, “I’m not leaving today.”
That change of face came quicker than the turn of a page, his mood
indiscernible.

Cheng Qian couldn’t react. “Uh… wah?”

Yan Zhengming shot him a look. “What? Got an idea?”

Cheng Qian had no ideas at all, only attempts at some.

“Get that little Daoling of yours to draw bathwater for me,” the other
ordered routinely.

Standing there in a daze, Cheng Qian’s imagination inadvertently ran wild

for a moment, and he turned around and left in a panic with his heart
beating like mad.

The rear yard of the Residence had a tiny pond, which had ever-flowing,
sweet-tasting water that was so clear, the bottom could be seen. A purifying
charm had been placed at the bottom of the brook in the pond’s upper
reaches, making the water therein drinkable.

Cheng Qian did not go bother Teng Huang, nor did he make use of anyone
else, setting to work himself. With some unfamiliarity, he drew out a ring of
charm to heat up the pond’s water; after no more than a moment, fog rolled
off of it, making it look rather like an immortal realm.

He crouched by the pond to test its warmth himself. After a good deal of
work, he suddenly felt like he had a cat that wasn’t easy to attend to; even
though it was awfully troublesome, he was still serving it in happiness.

Right when he was about to stand up, Yan Zhengming, at some unknown
point in time, had come to noiselessly stand behind him.

Making use of his negligible tipsiness, he drummed up his courage, then,

before Cheng Qian had the time to stand all the way up, hugged him by the
waist.

In truth, his palms were sweaty, both of which he just nonchalantly wiped
off on Cheng Qian’s belt. At the exact same time, he dragged out a long,
languid tone, issuing a look of mellowness that was a complete lie, to say,
“This is a good place you have. Aren’t you going to bathe together with
me?”

Cheng Qian was shortly quiet. “…Senior, why are you shaking?” he
couldn’t resist blurting out.

“…”

Beside this pond where immortal qi lingered, neither of them said anything
for a time.

Cheng Qian realized that he had apparently flubbed things, quickly

attempting to remedy them. “No, that’s—“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as a forceful attack came from behind
him, which was his humiliated-into-rage senior straight-up grabbing him
and jumping into the pond. The water that was much too warm, in Cheng
Qian’s opinion, quickly soaked through his clothes and enveloped him,
making him shudder intensely. Before he could speak, Yan Zhengming had
already pressed him into the edge of the pond, staring at him with burning
eyes.

He lifted Cheng Qian’s face up with one hand, fingertips lightly tracing
across his wet face and mind going blank for a short time. The hot water
steamed the feeling of the alcohol up to his head.

Coming to this step, he resolved to just go for it, and kissed him without
another word.

The water was hot, and the palms of his senior were even hotter. Cheng
Qian suddenly couldn’t catch his breath, struggling slightly a couple of
times involuntarily. As it was, with only this bit of movement, Yan
Zhengming immediately let him go, cautiously drawing back a bit.

Cheng Qian wasn’t that much more clear-headed than he was. Like a fish
thrown out of water, he gasped for breath a few times, a faint ache in his
chest as he met Yan Zhengming’s ill-at-ease gaze — it carried unspeakable
longing, and a fear to go beyond the acceptable limit.

After wracking his brain for a long time, Cheng Qian asked in a low,
somewhat strained voice, “Senior, do you… want to dual cultivate with
me?”

Yan Zhengming was speechless, feeling that he ought to just turn around,
run out, and go cry right now. It would fit with the times.

“You sure understand a lot, to even know what dual cultivation is,” he
snarled, not knowing how to react. “Dual cultivation, my ass! I just like you
and want to be close to you, okay? Can I not do that?”

“…”

Done roaring, Yan Zhengming stared at him tensely, then tentatively pecked
the corner of his mouth. “Do you regret this?” he asked, touch-and-go.

The word ‘close’ beautifully invoked that scene Cheng Qian had witnessed
in Zhaoyang, which he didn’t have a good impression of, and had merely
felt unbearable upon taking a rough look at.

That bit of unbearableness instead ignited unorthodox thoughts in his head.

It was like back when he was a teen and had come out of the mountain
cave, was passing through the Valley of the Heart Demon, and gaze down
from up on high; he had clearly felt indescribable danger, yet had still
involuntarily stuck his head out to look.

“You’re noisy,” he said.

Guessing that this excitement had origins in abstinence, and shelving his
memories of superficial flower-viewing, he improperly tore off Yan
Zhengming’s soaked clothes. After he was done, though, he was a bit
confused, not knowing where to go from here; so, he paused, wringing the
juices of his brain dry trying to recall how other people did this.
He suddenly had some regrets that he hadn’t observed closely, back then.
This was the first time in all his life that he was really feeling the phrase,
‘Regret not knowing more when the time to use that knowledge comes.’

…That was, until he was pressed into the wall of the pond by Yan
Zhengming, with no room for question.

He had been stifled for too long, born with it for too long, and no longer
thought to be courteous with him.

Starting from there, someone else began to claim ownership of the

Residence of Peace.

On the first day Yan Zhengming stayed there, Cheng Qian had a rare bout
of sleeping in later. He felt a sweetness in his heart upon opening his eyes to
see him. Despite having some slight, indescribable discomfort on himself, it
wasn’t that big of a deal; Yan Zhengming would only occasionally have
such moments where he would be open and reveal his true feelings, so, just
for that, Cheng Qian believed that he could do whatever it was that he
wanted.

On the third day Yan Zhengming stayed there, Cheng Qian began to find it
all a bit much. The other’s fussing around had made the Residence of Peace
neither peaceful nor quiet, and he was horribly clingy. Sect Leader Yan
really had his own way of getting someone stuck to him, quite unlike a
typical clinger — every time, he would merely vague a hint, and then, after
demanding that the other receive it, immediately stick right back to him, so
that he could put on a lordly appearance that basically said, ‘Who made me
be your senior brother? I should be coaxing you.”

Were Cheng Qian not to respond, or not feel like bothering with him every
once in a while, he would have to prepare to get continuously nagged the
whole day.

There was a saying: ‘Inviting spirits in is easy, sending them away is hard.’
Sect Leader Yan had been staying in the Residence of Peace for half a
month, and Cheng Qian couldn’t take it anymore, because he was about to
go insane. He thought back to when he would have preferred to face the
wall of the nearby than be willing to chat with Nian Mingming, a visiting
guest; evidently, in addition to his staunch willpower, he was fond of the
quiet.

After getting deliberately ignored several times by him, the noisy Sect
Leader Yan finally got mad. “Didn’t you say that you would never fail to be
loyal? You’re tired of me after only a few days! Just as expected from
someone that’s been a white-eyed wolf since childhood!”

Cheng Qian got a headache. “Senior, can’t you let me live a few more
years?”

Sect Leader Yan got so mad, he ran out to the bamboo forest to refine his
sword, then wrecked the sea of bamboo into a bald expanse. He had wanted
to leave, but ended up being unwilling to; when evening came, he angrily
stomped through fine rain as he stormed back, after which he waited for
Cheng Qian, who had gone down the mountain to see Han Yuan, to return
and reflect upon himself.

The days flickered past. In a wink, the rainy season of Fuyao had arrived,
those pattering sounds never stopping all day long.

Today, when Cheng Qian was about to go down the mountain, Yan
Zhengming called out to stop him.

“Bring this over to him.” This was the first time that the other had brought
Han Yuan up, and he threw out a small pearls that was as big as a fava bean.

Cheng Qian caught it. The thing felt cold to the touch, yet the humidity of
the pattering rainwater coiling around him suddenly dissipated.

“Anti-Water Drops flowed out of the Western Palace in the early years; I
managed to obtain a few pearls,” Yan Zhengming said. “Tang Zhen’s
established appointment on the fifteenth is coming soon. Don’t allow him to
be a drowned-chicken-looking disgrace.”

Clearly, the heart was concerned, yet he was always donning a look of
unending and absolute disdain.
Before Cheng Qian went to see Han Yuan, he first bumped into Tang Zhen
at the foot of Tai Yin.

Tang Zhen was a very worry-free guest. Apart from the first day he had just
arrived at Fuyao, where Li Yun had personally led him on a tour of the
Mountain, he pretty much lived a simple like of seclusion, rarely leaving
the courtyard of his guest house.

He held an oilpaper umbrella in hand, to not waste his true essence blocking
the rain. The sleeves of his robes were damp, but he didn’t mind, calmly
walking in the rain.

Cheng Qian let Shuang Ren descend to the ground, then called out to greet
him. “Brother Tang.”

“Are you heading to the Ten-Party Array?” Tang Zhen asked. “We can go
together.”

The two didn’t speak much, nor did they go by swordflight, walking down
the small mountain path that was getting washed clean. The sound of wind
and rain in the ears was so fine, it was like everything had slowed down.

“With you accompanying me, Brother Tang, I feel like I don’t need to be so
worried about it all.”

“Mortals have lives of mediocrity, pursued by merits, fame, benefits, and

fortune. Although a cultivator has a hundred or thousandfold the time, they
are still pursued behind by their cultivation base and realm. We all walk
against the currents between the Heavens and the Earth; with one tiny
moment of slack, one will get a step further away from the Great Dao, so
don’t you dare be unworried… I’m a walking corpse that seeks nothing, so
it’s only natural that I’m a bit more carefree than others.”

Those words made some doubt slightly flit past Cheng Qian’s mind. If you
don’t seek anything, what are you scurrying over here for?

However, that doubt went away in a flash. He didn’t have many friends;
each one counted, and he wasn’t too willing to be unduly suspicious of
friends. Thus, he didn’t care too much while he answered. “I actually think
that occasionally taking a stroll is balancing, but if you pass every day so
leisurely, wouldn’t you be just like an old tortoise? There would be no
meaning to it.”

Tang Zhen smiled, then diverted the subject. “The appointment for the
fifteenth will be here soon. What is your Sect Leader thinking about? In this
battle, the demonic dragon bowed its head, the Celestial Divination Bureau
fell, the Four Sages weakened, and over half of Mulan Mountain’s elites
were destroyed. The other minor sects are not enough to bring up, but
Fuyao might be a new power. You all need to plan ahead in the reshuffling
of the decks amongst the major sects.”

“Our Sect Leader doesn’t have the ambition to give orders to the whole
world and have all four directions bowing towards him, he just wants to
make everyone else annoy him less. He had once been too lazy to leave the
sect, and with so many years of wandering abroad, I’m thinking that he’s
probably going to get even worse after coming back.”

“Whether in the capacity of a Sect Leader or a sword cultivator, Brother

Yan is quite distinctive. His mindset of letting things come as they are is
very in line with the true meaning of the Great Dao. Coupled with his
unsurpassed natural aptitude, he might actually be able to aim for eternal
life in the future.”

Since the onset of Fuyao’s establishment, there had never been a demand
for eternal life, and it only considered itself to be of the ‘path of humanity’.
World-shaking talents such as Tong Ru had even placed the sect’s
inheritance before personal cultivation progression. Still, Tang Zhen was
ultimately an outsider, so Cheng Qian didn’t answer with much. “Thank
you for your auspicious words, Brother Tang.”

“But, if we’re speaking of eternal life, you have received Heaven’s sole
blessing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Cultivation and tool refining are sometimes one and the same. The Third
Prince refining himself into the Skeletonizing Array actually had that logic.
Cultivator’s practice is a desperate struggle against the Heavens; if their
base stagnates, new qi cannot be transferred into their true essence, and
their lifespans will be capped. You, however, are not the same. The Spirit-
Collection Jade is able to absorb the energy of the world by nature.”

Cheng Qian didn’t care much about this. “Jade and humans are similar, in
that neither will rot together with the Heavens and the Earth. Upon arriving
at this stage of having a primordial spirit via different means, I don’t feel
any different.”

“There’s more,” Tang Zhen answered mildly. “You forged the Jade into a
form of flesh. You underwent a heavenly tribulation, so you have a half-
immortal body. If you were willing to purely cultivate inside Mingming
Valley’s ice pool, it would incessantly supply you with true essence that
came from the same origin as your corporeal body. Your cultivation base
would never stagnate. You might not ascend, but you could live forever…
oh, don’t think that I’m advising you to. This is just reality.”

With a speaker like Tang Zhen, it was unclear whether this was intentional
or not, but a listener like Cheng Qian only took those words as wind past
the ears, anyways. “I only borrowed the Jade to make myself a body, since
being human is good. I really have no intention to turn into a jade piece.”

Tang Zhen looked at him profoundly, saying nothing other than an

agreement. “Right you are.”

“Speaking of spiritual items, you’re very knowledgable, Brother Tang.

Have you ever heard of ‘hearing the universe’ before?”

The other’s expression changed. “How do you figure that ‘Hear the
Universe’ is a spiritual object, and not a person or a technique?”

Cheng Qian smiled, unfazed. “It just felt like one. Why?”

“Ah, that’s a very ancient legend. Some claim that one can hear the sounds
of the higher realms by wielding Hear the Universe, but no one knows
whether that’s true or not.” Immediately after this, Tang Zhen’s tone took a
turn as he exposed the matter at hand. “Zhenren Han has qi deviated, so I’m
afraid the death penalty is unavoidable. It will be difficult for him to escape
hardships. On the fifteenth, I will contend as much as possible. Even if he’s
to be imprisoned and suppressed, I will fight for him to be held on Fuyao
Mountain.”

Cheng Qian could only sigh. “Thank you very much, then.”

That was good thought, but unfortunately, it might not be implemented.

By the time the Fuyao crowd reached Tai Yin on the fifteenth day, there
were already a lot of sects there.

The people that arrived this time were high-class, but not too high-class.
The various sects had successively gone back home to recuperate, and now
had only sent a representative or two to express their positions. The major
sects were sitting all around and separated, but the middle position was left
open.

Cheng Qian glanced at Tang Zhen, and the latter nodded. “Yes, that’s been
reserved for your sect.”

They reserved that, but am I about to step forth and sit there like a duck
forced to roost? Yan Zhengming thought.

Not saying a word further, he meandered through the crowd. Having the
same mannerisms as ever and not giving regards to anyone else’s face, he
found a nook that didn’t wallow in the muck with the crowd. He ordered
Nian Dada to throw out the Stone Seed, thus partitioning out a tiny world,
then went in without prior consultation.

Tang Zhen shook his head. He called for Liu Lang to go up onto the Ten-
Party Array’s platform; he was the one that had ultimately congregated this
congregation, so he couldn’t stand on the sidelines like Fuyao.

The Stone Seed displayed a bit of extraordinariness that left behind the
world and stood alone. Liu Lang couldn’t resist admiring that slightly. “I
wish to have a day where I’ll become just like Sect Leader Yan.”

Tang Zhen patiently tilted his head, listening to him talk as he walked.

“I heard the Daolings on Fuyao Mountain say that he was like this as a
teenager, too. All he wanted to do was plant flowers and play with birds.
Later on, destiny made him descend the mountain for a hundred years, and
after a journey of suffering, he’s become a superpower. Yet, upon returning
to the place where he started off, his original goals are unchanged, and he
isn’t the slightest bit moved by the ways of the world… disregarding that
his originals aspirations seem to be lackluster, I really admire him.”

Tang Zhen nodded expressionlessly at that. “That is indeed rare.”

Immediately following that, however, he raised his head again, gaze

apathetically sweeping over the cultivators that filled the eyes. “It’s a shame
that he is unmoved by the ways of the world, yet the ways of the world are
not likely to tolerate him,” he said, traces of gloom within his tone. “People
like him typically don’t have good ends.”

With that, before Liu Lang could answer, he swept out his sleeves and
walked to the remnant array site.

After glossing over a few phrases for the occasion, Tang Zhen got right to
point. “This Tang dares not take control of things on my own initiative, so I
will have to inconvenience everyone with deliberating over a statute today. I
personally believe that retribution for grievances is not necessarily a good
thing, and that death may not see atonement for the crime. What do you all
say?”

When his voice had only just landed, an elder of White Tiger Estate took
the lead in speaking. “

Han Yuan was completely uncooperative, cutting him off without the least
bit of gratitude. “The Nine Sages of the Nightmare Travelers perished in the
Ten-Party Array, and the demonic dragon is being detained here. Now, no
one is managing those demonic cultivators. The Nine Sages and demonic
dragon were bound by the blood oath, but it didn’t bind those demons that
acknowledge no law nor Heaven. They are inhibited by no one, each of
them causing chaos to instead make even more of a foul atmosphere. As I
see it, it would be better to—“

“The Nightmare Travelers never restrained their subordinates. If you want

to blame someone, blame yourselves for your incompetence and failure to
take care of your own territory. Don’t count on me to go make people for
you.”

The elder didn’t personally know Han Yuan; he had simply been entrusted
with saying a few good things for him. This was the first time he had ever
come across someone that was so uncaring of right and wrong, making him
choke.

“Since the demon’s said as much himself, what else can anyone expect?”
someone beside him said coldly. “It would be better to kill him to get rid of
him.”

The speaker happened to be Bian Xu, Master of Black Tortoise Hall.

Someone with his status should not have been coming to mix in with this
himself, but the enmity of having his son killed made it so that he couldn’t
live under the same sky as Han Yuan. Bian Xiaohui had only been dead for
a year, while Bian Xu had a thoroughly white beard and hair, faintly
showing the desolation that came when one’s time was up.

He, too, was a Sage. Him falling to this plight truly caused one to sigh.

“Wouldn’t it be, though?” Han Yuan responded with equal harshness.

“Making the demons and the trash all die out, then leaving only you ever-
so-knowledgeable, Dao-devoted people would be pretty good.”

Inside the Stone Seed, Yan Zhengming said to Li Yun, “Can you make that
dumbass shut up?”

The other frowned. “Bian Xu? That’d be quite a bit difficult.”

“…I was talking about Han Yuan.”

“Sure.” Li Yun turned to Cheng Qian. “Do you see that big wutong tree
opposite Han Yuan? Xiao Qian, take our sister there. He’ll definitely shut
up, then.”

“…”

After a short moment, Shui Keng transformed into a big bird, then flew out
of the Stone Seed while carrying Cheng Qian. She landed beneath the
wutong tree, in prime position to have a staring contest with Han Yuan.

Her fire-red crane feathers hung down, looking particular eye-catching.

Once Han Yuan, who had been raving on the platform, saw the two of them,
he instantly sealed up his mouth and obediently made no more noises.

“Our little junior has met with a lot of calamities in his life. It could even be
said to be filled with blood and tears, but if you really add things up, it’s
actually Xiao Qian’s death that hit him the hardest,” Li Yun said, utterly
self-satisfied. “Haven’t you noticed that his heart demon weakens a little
every time he meets him?… There’s also our junior sister, who was the best
with him when she was young. On that day when his demonic nature
boomed, he said that he wanted to draw out her yao skeleton, which makes
him somewhat guilty towards her. He always restrains his heart demon
whenever he sees her.”

He shook his head proudly, feeling himself to be truly too capable of

prescribing just the right medication.

Yan Zhengming unhappily smacked him with the spine of his fan. “I haven’t
noticed. Shut up,” he squeezed out from between his teeth.

Li Yun went quiet, feeling himself to have apparently unwittingly

overturned someone’s vinegar jar.

As Bian Xu’s seniority was ultimately present, it wouldn’t be good for him
to lack too much elegance. When it came to quarreling, as long as Han
Yuan remained calm, it would be hard for him to clap with one hand, and he
would have to given in after not very long. All he could throw out was,
“Forgive this old decrepit for not having perfect cultivation. Dispelling the
hatred of the murder of one’s child is difficult. My Black Tortoise Hall
cannot live under the same sky as this man! He must be killed today!”

As soon as that came out, everyone’s hostility towards Han Yuan was
momentarily evoked. A mess of talking voices arose.

Right then, a voice suddenly came from far away. “The demonic dragon’s
guilt has manifested, and the whole world knows it. If none of us had any
grievances with him, there would be no need to mobilize everyone into
convening here. Our enmities do not need to be brought up. I believe that
Zhenren Tang has spoken some sense — what meaning does the finality of
death have? It would be better to allow him to live and atone.”

Everyone looked over at the same time too see a middle-aged man walking
over from with a couple disciples, looking like his figure would already
come before the eyes in a flash. He was elegant, graceful, and had quite a
refined presence.

The White Tiger Estate elder that had just spoken greeted him immediately.
“Estate Lord.”

So that was who he was.

The Estate Lord nodded, tidied his cuffs, then cupped his hands towards
Bian Xu. “Brother Bian. Long time, no see.”

Cheng Qian furrowed his brow as he sized the newcomer up from the
treetops. Then, his eyes widened — wasn’t this clown that old lunatic from
the Immortal Binding Platform, Ji Qianli?

Why was he putting on airs all of a sudden?!

The translator says: I lied. He wasn’t cucked at all. (Also, how in the hell was I supposed to know ‘hear the universe’ was an
item? You’ve got to be kidding me.)
 LY 96

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Upon seeing this old friend, Bian Xu was startled, mood becoming a little
complicated immediately afterwards.

His own hairs were all white, but his old friend before him was still in his
prime. When both sides were compared, the superior one was immediately
evident — cultivators had lifespans that were several times that of mortals,
the youth and beauty of non-age making them appear to be blessed by the
Heavens, but there was a cruel side to that, too. They could show ugliness,
ignorance, and poverty, yet could never show age alone.

That was because ‘age’ was not only a law of nature, but the phrase of
judgement of ‘having no affinity with the Great Dao for all one’s life.’

Bian Xu refused to admit that he was jealous, but did feel slightly upset. In
the end, he said not a thing, nodding mildly at Ji Qianli.

Everyone below began to converse with gusto. Hearsay stated that White
Tiger Estate’s lord had been seriously injured due to eliminating demons,
and after so many years of straight rest in recuperation, all of the Estate’s
matters had been handed down to its elders while he struggled for his life.

However, it now seemed that instead of having a tiny bit of hint that his
wick was about to go out, he was hale and hearty.

Ji Qianli looked up to see Cheng Qian atop the tree, shot him a smile, then
called out to Tang Zhen from a distance. “I will say, everyone — those of
you that have grudges needed to think about this. What good would
destroying his primordial spirit with one slash be, when he doesn’t fear
death? His death would end it all, no suffering to be had. Are you all
comfortable with that? If I had an enemy I couldn’t live under the same sky
with, I would definitely be itching for them to suffer the utmost of disgrace
every single day, while also having a long, healthy life.”

As soon as the Estate Lord opened his mouth, a wave of fresh shit-stirring
sticks attacked the face. Han Yuan looked to really want to cuss the guy out,
but he was so pissed off, he couldn’t think up anything good to say for a
short time.

This man’s sudden appearance was beyond anyone’s expectations. Even

Tang Zhen couldn’t fathom why he had come.

“Your words do not lack reason, Estate Lord,” Tang Zhen calmly stated,
“but Zhenren Han’s abilities are far too remarkable. If we want to lock him
away, there needs to be a suitable place for it.”

“What would a suitable place be in your opinion, Zhenren Tang?” someone

asked.

Tang Zhen cupped his hands towards the asker. “The affairs of all the major
sects are quite complex, so I’m afraid they wouldn’t be able to manage him.
I’m also afraid that anyone else would have the will, but not the strength to.
Hum… when the Skeletonizing Array broke last month, did any of you get
an impression of Sect Leader Yan’s cultivation base and sword skills?”

Of course they had. It was a pretty deep impression.

How many sword cultivators could cultivate to a primordial spirit? How

many could enter the Sword Spirit Realm?

Tang Zhen smiled. “That is why, in my humble view, Fuyao Mountain

would be a good place.”

As soon as he said that, Ji Qianli, whose standpoint was unclear, suddenly

interjected. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
Tang Zhen’s eye twitched a bit.

Hands behind his back, Ji Qianli stepped forth, shooting a glance at Cheng
Qian on the treetops. “The Fuyao Sect is Han Yuan’s original sect. Even if
Sect Leader Yan is righteous and won’t give in to personal feelings, would
this not be the equivalent of all of you trapping him in a situation where
he’s innocent, yet suspicious? It’s not appropriate, not appropriate at all —
isn’t that right, my little friend, Cheng Qian?”

Cheng Qian vaguely sensed the surging undercurrent of this scene, but was
momentarily unable to make out the whys and wheres of it. Thus, he said
nothing.

Right then, someone spoke into his ear. “How do you know him, too? How
do you know such an unpresentable man?”

Upon turning his head, he saw that their eldest, who had ignored the crowd
leaving him a front-row seat to run off and build the Stone Seed before
anything else, was currently not waiting in said Seed — the stately Sect
Leader had come and scrambled up into this tree like a monkey.

Cheng Qian: “…”

Who exactly was the one that was unpresentable, here?

“I actually have a proposal.” Ji Qianli became grave, strode with a slow gait
over to Tang Zhen’s side, then looked at Han Yuan.

The later got the overall feeling that the man’s gaze held a weird sort of
pity. It gave him bad goosebumps to see it.

“I went traveling with my disciples a time before, and saw that a generation
in Shuzhong had been scourged by demonic cultivators several times, its
people unable to pull through life. Those cultivators’ bases are, for the most
part, nothing, and will surely be no big challenge for all present to deal
with, though the large amount of them will be a bit of a bother. Also…” Ji
Qianli waved his sleeve, and then a gray figure flew out of it. It was a tiny
girl whose entire body was gray and black, and from the waist down, her
form was practically too blurred to see clearly. She floated in midair
sullenly with a dead look in her eyes, indescribable resentful and ghostly qi
coming off of her.

“A ghost?” Yan Zhengming whispered.

There was a burst of clamor inside the Ten-Party Array.

With a face like his whole life was flashing past his eyes, akin to mist, Tang
Zhen looked like he had been slapped — perhaps, he was thinking back to
the days where he himself had been a ghost. He automatically took a step
back.

“Correct,” Ji Qianli said. “I can here specifically to inform all of you that
the Soul-Devouring Lamp, once vanished for a hundred years, has
reappeared in the human world.”

This remark set off a thousand different waves. Everyone erupted on the
spot.

Over a hundred years ago, the Soul-Devouring Lamp had appeared in the
world, creating countless slaughters. Its holder, Jiang Pen, had come from
unknown origins, yet had an unparalleled time in the demonic cultivator’s
limelight. There had once been rumors that he had had the abilities to aspire
for Beiming — and if it was said that the demonic dragon was trouble, he at
least had things he would never do, while a ghost cultivator’s methods had
no such bottom line.

One wave had not yet settled before another arose. These major demons
were like mosquitoes after the start of summer, where swatting them to
wipe them out never ended.

“I met him outside of Mingming Valley before, then accidentally let him get
away…” Cheng Qian whispered. “Has he actually already refined himself
into the Soul-Devouring Lamp?”

Yan Zhengming tightly hooked him around the waist. “Why didn’t you say
that then?”
“…I was getting bugged by you, so I forgot.”

The other looked at him with an angry face, but unfortunately, Cheng Qian
calmly looking back at him put out his immense fire. Not pulling a long
face, Sect Leader Yan’s eyes involuntarily softened up, whereupon he had
no choice but to push Cheng Qian’s face to the side. “Look over there, not
at me.”

“Seniors, there’s another living being here,” the overlooked Shui Keng said
dryly.

He looked at her.

Having received the threat, she turned her bird head away in distress. “Ah,
it’s fine. This living being happens to be blind.”

Ji Qianli’s group whispering to each other gradually quieted down, after

which he turned to Han Yuan. “You have been running rampant amongst the
Nightmare Travelers for untold years, and thus have considerably deep
experience in the demonic path. Would you be willing to lend us a hand,
now?”

Han Yuan peered at him with a cold smile.

“The Soul-Devouring Lamp has not been present for a hundred years,”
Tang Zhen suddenly said, “and just a single ghost doesn’t necessarily mean
you’re telling the truth. In light of your meaning, Estate Lord, would this
not be tantamount to sending the demonic dragon back to Nanjiang? These
various sects have gotten into a lot of incidents and lost quite a lot in order
to hunt down the demonic dragon. If you want to let the tiger return to his
mountain now, others may not agree.”

He distorted Ji Qianli’s words to perfection, and the distortion appeared to

make sense.

“I don’t understand, Second Brother,” Shui Keng said quietly. “Why does
Senior Tang seem to want to protect Fourth Brother one minute, then not
the next?”
Cheng Qian placed his hand on her head, not making a sound, though both
he and Yan Zhengming had heard. Tang Zhen wanted to protect Han Yuan,
yet never agreed to let him go back to Nanjiang… why?

Ji Qianli smiled. “That’s simple. Why, have you forgotten, Zhenren Tang?
Your eight-trigrams plate with the blood oath is still around, isn’t it? Since
we could set one up, we can naturally set up another one. Not only can the
demonic dragon be made to set it up, but it can even call us… Sect Leader
Yan and the rest over, for everyone to discuss the clauses. You established
an appointment last month for the fifteenth, Zhenren Tang. Han Yuan could
have just scampered off, yet he has peacefully been sitting here for a month
in wait for you all. Does that not clearly demonstrate the effect of the blood
oath?”

Tang Zhen put away all the emotions on his face, as blank as a wooden
carving.

“If otherwise, would all you prefer to go contend with the Soul-Devouring
Lamp and a legion of ghosts yourselves? Would you prefer to sort out those
demons with not much power, yet many means yourselves?”

Bian Xu suddenly butt in. “Tell us, then, how should this debt of blood be
repaid?”

His tone was completely impolite, a nearly confrontational question. There

was silence on the field.

Ji Qianli went quiet for a minute. “Brother Bian, the dead cannot come back
to life. Falling into prejudice will put your cultivation at a disadvantage.
You should feel as much.”

Getting his sore spot jabbed, Bian Xu’s face fiercely twitched. Han Yuan,
however, just laughed. “I could repay it with my life for you.”

Upon hearing this, Tang Zhen took back his gaze and landed it upon Han
Yuan. “Han Yuan. Cultivators need to speak and act prudently,” he said
slowly. “At times, what one says will be spilt water that’s difficult to
retrieve. Think carefully before words come out of your mouth next time.”
Han Yuan’s recent sentence hadn’t necessarily come out of his original
mind, and he was probably just habitually being provocative for a moment
of delight. However, Tang Zhen’s admonishment was not really necessary.
Han Yuan’s heart demon was trapped by the phrase ‘getting ordered around
makes me want to disobey’. What he could not bear to hear the most was
disparaging comments and threats; with Tang Zhen asking something like
this, he might actually swear by the Heavens to repay with his life!

Cheng Qian’s heart thumped. Despite being unwilling to guess at Tang

Zhen’s intent with a suspicious heart, he still felt some difficult come up
within him.

“Shh, it’s fine,” Yan Zhengming said. “Look.”

During his speech, Han Yuan had already made a vowing gesture, but right
as he went to speak, his expression suddenly changed. His entire body
appeared to be frozen exactly in place, mouth opening a couple of times
with not a sound coming out.

Cheng Qian gathered true essence into his eyes — he saw that Han Yuan
appeared to be bundled up tightly in a layer of water film, prompting him to
remember the ‘Anti-Water Pearl’ Yan Zhengming had told him to deliver a
while before.

Just as expected… when Han Yuan became trapped on the remnant site of
the Ten-Party Array, Yan Zhengming had itched for hailstones to smash
down upon the other’s head every single day. Why would he have so nicely
prepped an Anti-Water Pearl for him?

“That’s an ‘Anti-Oath Pearl’,” Yan Zhengming whispered. “Place it on the

body for one shichen, and one won’t be able to make any oaths for three
days. I feared that he would say some nonsense.”

Something so weird and useless was definitely Li Yun’s work.

He then frowned, and said to himself, “What’s up with Tang Zhen? Did he
take the wrong meds?”
After this interruption, Ji Qianli finally caught an opportunity to speak to
Bian Xu. “Your Black Tortoise Hall is located in the ice fields of the
extreme North, separated by Nanjiang by hundreds of thousands of li. It
naturally has nothing to be concerned over, but does your Hall manage the
turmoil of the Central Plains?”

As he spoke, he raised his hand to point at the little mid-air ghost. Agitated
by his force, she abruptly pounced forward, the several cultivators closest to
her getting up and dodging in a panic.

This old man of White Tiger Estate would either not show up, or show up
start stuff.

However, no one dared to say as much to his face, as he was one of the Four
Sages.

“I proclaim that the blood oath be as follows,” he started, lackadaisically.

“First, the demonic dragon must do all he is capable of doing to arrest the
demonic cultivators running amok in the Central Plains and the Soul-
Devour Lamp, else he will take a tenfold backlash. Second, after catching
the Soul-Devouring Life, the dragon will be confined to Nanjiang and guard
its entrance for all his life, never to take a half-step out of it, else he will
suffer tenfold backlash. Third, since the dragon is serving this sentence,
he’ll need to bear with a daily flogging for five hundred years, only to be
cut short if he dies of old age, else he will suffer tenfold backlash. Fourth,
from now on, the dragon must not wantonly slaughter innocents, create
demonic weaponry, accept disciples, or teach, else he will be struck with
lightning and die horribly.”

Saying so, he waved his hand, and the eight-trigram plate that had overseen
a blood oath once before flew right into his hand. He smiled as he took a
survey of his surroundings. “I brought up the blood oath, but the dragon
studied under Fuyao Sect, so I’ll need to ask Sect Leader Yan to take the
oath alongside me in representation of the Sect. If, someday, anyone plays
favorites to the dragon, their sect will decline to an unredeemable state, its
bloodline cut off — I presume that no one here has any other opinions?”
Anyone with opinions dared not say anything, quelled by his string of
‘tenfold backlash’s and the ‘struck with lightning’.

Ji Qianli took the initiative to force out a drop of blood from his fingertip,
which submerged straight into the plate, after which he took and flung it
right towards that giant parasol tree.

Everyone held their breaths for a moment. The plate was seen to circle
around the tree’s dense canopy for long time, and then a hand suddenly
caught it. Yan Zhengming, hidden in the canopy, moved branches aside,
gave a profound look to Ji Qianli up on the high platform, then dripped a
drop of blood onto the plate — the Fuyao Sect had entered the oath.

Seeing the plate fly towards Han Yuan, Tang Zhen was about to reach out
his hand to stop it. “Sect Leader Yan, you should consider this carefully
before…”

Yet, he did not get to finish, as the plate bypassed him to get to Han Yuan.

The instant Fuyao had entered the oath, Han Yuan gained the symbol of the
pledge upon his body.

He stared at the symbol, thoroughly dumbstruck.

This…

After all this time, his senior hadn’t expelled him from the sect! He was still
one of Fuyao’s!

In this moment, Han Yuan didn’t feel a bit of anger at being forced into an
oath. He quickly raised his head to look at Yan Zhengming on the tree, lips
trembling slightly, yet saying nothing.

Tang Zhen’s expression twisted up — the blood oath had already been
made.

Cheng Qian, however, inwardly sighed, feeling an empty peace of mind.

For the sake of Han Yuan’s personal vendetta, the human world had been
overturned into a horrible state. Wanting to expose the past like human lives
were no big deal would be impossible. He had made an immense mistake,
and needed to pay an immense price — no one could protect him from that.

Otherwise, aside from those enemies and detractors not agreeing with it, the
karmic law of the Heavens wouldn’t sit idly by, either.

Allowing him to live to atone was already him slipping the net. Regardless
of whether he would be confined on Fuyao Mountain or ordered to stand
guard at Nanjiang, it would be the best result.

With the stances of Fuyao and White Tiger Estate settled, no one else could
say anything in regards to either emotions or logic. They successively
stepped forwards to add their witness to the oath plate.

In the twilight of the setting sun, the dust of the matter settled.

When everyone began to leave, Ji Qianli cast aside his Estate disciples to
come towards Cheng Qian. He looked him up and down. “It’s been a long
time since I’ve seen you. You’ve made improvement, and have a good
future outlook.”

“Estate Lord Ji,” the other responded.

‘Ji Qianli’ smiled. “Don’t call me that,[1] I was just messing with you last
time. You don’t blame me for locking your junior up, eh?”

The name of White Tiger Estate’s Lord was Shang Wan’nian. Apart from a
few people that didn’t pay attention to what went on outside of their
windows — like Cheng Qian — everyone knew that.

Cheng Qian slightly bowed his head. “How could I dare to?”

Estate Lord Shang looked at him, smiling lightly. “In muddy waters,
someone will inevitably want to fish. In poor planning, someone will
inevitably shine a dagger. I’m afraid that the weather is going to change.
You need to be careful.”
With that, he looked down to view the spot on his hand where the symbol of
the blood oath was fading away, smiling craftily. “But, then again, that will
have nothing to do with us old fellows.”

Cheng Qian was startled.

Shang Wan’nian brought out some familiar derangement once more,

humming as he went. “After I die, how could I care about what tall floods
he brings?”

He suddenly stepped forward, nearly bumping into Cheng Qian. He

grabbed Cheng Qian’s lapels, his eyes, so deep that their bottoms could not
be seen, were like two eerie, black wells that stared unblinking at him.

Then, a thread of spiritual consciousness entered the middle of Cheng

Qian’s brows.

He heard the other’s consciousness speak. Long ago, Hear the Universe
was disguised as a piece of spiritual jade, where it wandered the world. No
one should have been able to recognize it, and I don’t know why it fell into
your hands. Since this is Heaven’s will… well, don’t let anyone know that
you have it. Remember this.

This pose of his was too ambitious. The very next moment, a hand stuck
itself in out of nowhere, bringing Cheng Qian backwards and lithely
pushing Shang Wan’nian away.

Yan Zhengming took back his paw, straightening up his sleeve like nothing
had happened. “Hello, Estate Lord. Please conduct yourself with dignity,”
he stated, expressionless.

Cheng Qian: “…”

In other words, that inexplicable ‘ear’ on the back of his hand was Hear the
Universe. He furrowed his brow; he genuinely hadn’t informed anyone of
this, but had brought it up to Tang Zhen once. Would the other suspect
something?
Cheng Qian didn’t have many friends, but Tang Zhen counted as one.
Making him speculate about an old friend like this suddenly made him feel
like his chest was weighted down by a puddleof cold, sticky mud, making it
hard for him to breathe.

“Estate Lord, hold on…”

Right as he was wanting to ask what ‘Hear the Universe was, Shang
Wan’nian drew a few steps backm then put his finger against his lips in a
silencing gesture.

After that, the old lunatic pointed to his own eyes, then his ears, then finally
his mouth, and shook his head three times in a row — not looking, not
listening, not speaking.

Once done, he lowered his head. A smile of indescribable connotation

suffused his face, and he turned with his hands behind his back, striding
towards Han Yuan. “My little Han friend, you can come down from the
Ten-Party Array. I came uninvited today, so I ask to accompany you back to
Fuyao Mountain for a temporary stay. Once two days pass, the journey will
begin. You will come with me down to Shuzhong, then go back to
Nanjiang. Oi, don’t pull a long face. This happened because of you, so
making you clean it up now is only natural.”

Yan Zhengming eyebrows nearly flew off of his face. “An uninvited guest
doesn’t need my approval?” he mumbled, depressed.

The ‘hahaha’ of Shang Wan’nian’s laughter came from the distance, just in
time to answer his question.

Yan Zhengming got serious, shot a glance at Cheng Qian, who had a heavy
load on his mind, and Shui Keng, who was bent out of shape, then grabbed
Cheng Qian’s wrist. “Let’s go.”

Shui Keng followed after without a care, looking extraordinarily please and
optimistic. “Eldest brother, is fourth brother coming home now?”
He simply did not feel like paying attention to her. “What did Tang Zhen
mean?” he quietly asked. “Did he say anything to you before, Xiao Qian?”

Cheng Qian knit his brows tight, a monster knot in his heart. “He told me
that he wanted to protect Han Yuan by confining him on Fuyao Mountain.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Shui Keng asked.

“Good, my ass. So that’s what he meant,” Yan Zhengming answered.

“Could you not tell? His implication also was, ‘if this person cannot remain
in Fuyao Mountain, kill him for security.’”

Cheng Qian’s hand glanced over Shuang Ren’s sheath. Before the final
moment, where the proof was concrete and the truth came to light, he would
be willing to pardon Tang Zhen for all of his cover ups. He didn’t want to
suspect him of anything.

Even though friendships between noblemen were not very intimate, they
required the bare minimum of trust. However, he had no choice but to admit
that this time, their eldest was right.

“They’re going to look for the Soul-Devouring Lamp,” he said. “I’ll go

with them.”

“I’ll go, too!” Shui Keng chirped.

“No chance,” Yan Zhengming overruled. “The instant you leave my line of
sight, something’s definitely going to happen.

“As for you…” He looked over at Shui Keng, then chided her with no bit of
politeness. “What are you making noise for? Shut your beak!”

Cheng Qian wanted to say something further, but the other waved his hand
to interupt him. “There’s no need to say anything else. Tomorrow, I’ll find
Shang Wan’nian to chat with him, and get a feel for the situation… is that
old thing really one of the Four Sages? Why is he kind of insane?”

Their eldest was extremely perceptive in the field of picking out peoples’
faults, forever able to grasp main points.
That very night, Cheng Qian couldn’t sleep. With difficulty, he managed to
get out of Yan Zhengming’s tangled limbs, then enter meditation in the
Residence of Peace’s secluded courtyard.

Even so, he was unable to calm down, getting the overall sense that
something was about to happen.

All of a sudden, the door to the yard was forcefully pushed open by
someone. Upon opening his eyes, he saw Li Yun, whose face was as sunken
as water. “Is our eldest here?”

“Why?”

“Estate Lord Shang is dead.”

The translator says: Why’s everyone fucking dying all the time????

[1] 几千里 — jiqianli, ‘several thousand miles. However, Cheng Qian mentally misunderstood the Ji as 纪, which is an actual
surname. What a troll.
 LY 97

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Yan Zhengming walked out of the bedroom, not a bit of tiredness to be seen
on his face. He raised one hand and pressed it down upon Cheng Qian’s
stiff shoulder. “How did he die? I didn’t sense anything at all. How could a
superpower like Shang Wan’nian die without any commotion?”

As the rightful successor of the Sect Leader Seal, he could sense even a bit
of stirring grass on the Mountain, his spiritual consciousness able to sweep
over Yao Valley in the back range. He was much more potent at it than
Zhenren Muchun had been, half-dead as he possessed the body of a weasel.

“I don’t know.” Li Yun pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s a White
Tiger Estate kid that hasn’t yet entered the Dao. In the middle of the night,
he saw that the light was on in in the other’s room, and that the shadow cast
on the window was a little weird. Once he stepped forward to question him,
he discovered that he was already deceased. C’mon, follow me and we’ll
take a look.”

Various possible conspiracies rose and fall in Cheng Qian’s head as he got
up with heavy worries.

As soon as he did, the hand that had caught Hear the Universe suddenly
seemed to be burning up, though there were no abnormalities on the surface
of its smooth skin. It shook violently, soon after which that scorching
sensation rapidly spread from his hand to his arm, then engulfed his entire
body.
He went off-balance for a spell. Shuang Ren, which had been hanging from
his waist, fell off of him without warning, vibrating as it gave off a buzzing
drone.

Yan Zhengming and Li Yun had been conversing, but once they turned their
heads, they noticed that Cheng Qian wasn’t making a peep — and then,
after swaying a few times, he knelt right on the ground, complexion as
hard-to-look-at as a dead man’s. Yan Zhengming’s soul was frightened right
out of him.

Cheng Qian instinctively gripped Shuang Ren’s sheath, its formerly ice-
cold sword body seeming to slowly heat up. Everything in his surroundings
was shifting away from him. He heard a certain sound that was like the
tones of yellow bells from ancient times, the clamor heavy and
overpowering, churning up his inner sanctum. His primordial spirit, which
he had not yet had time to fully fix, could not withstand such heavy
damage, and seemed like it was going to split open, suffering a bout of
being cut to pieces for no real reason.

At exactly that moment, external force suddenly rushed into him, which
instantly disconnected those layers of clamor, and suppressed his rampaging
true essence.

Cheng Qian swallowed down the irony taste into his chest. He focused his
spirit into his inner sanctum, only to see that a powerful, yet not forceful
spiritual consciousness had been born into a false image — it was the
purportedly-dead Shang Wan’nian.

The other looked at Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit with furrowed brows.
“What’s wrong with you? Why is this damaged?”

Cheng Qian couldn’t saying anything for a bit.

Sighing as he looked at him, Shang Wan’nian’s consciousness spread out.

His entire likeness turned into a cluster of infinite stars in the same spot,
and he gradually helped him comb out his disordered true essence. “Your
primordial spirit is damaged, so you can’t withstand Hear the Universe’s
inheritance… alas, I can only lock it away inside your inner sanctum and
make it wait for you later.”

…Why was he being forced to buy this thing?

“Hear the Universe has been lost for a long time,” Shang Wan’nian
continued. “After I accepted its inheritance, I searched for it for a lifetime,
only to run into it right before my death. Since this was fate, I had wanted
to pass it on to you without hassle, but the timing was off… by Heaven’s
will, I must have terrible luck.”

Right as the terribly-unlucky said that, Cheng Qian sensed something

flowing from his arm and through all his meridians, ultimately sinking into
his inner sanctum between his brows. He saw that the ear-like insignia
representing Hear the Universe had been branded into the middle of his
inner sanctum at some unknown point in time; it brightened searingly for a
short time, then gradually dimmed down.

Shang Wan’nian’s spiritual consciousness appeared in front of Cheng Qian

once again. He stared at Hear the Universe with a complicated expression,
shaking his head and sighing. “Even though the inheritance isn’t visible,
being able to see its surface will allow me to die without regrets.”

“You’re really…”

“Mn, my physical form has already died of natural causes. I expected that I
was reaching the end of my life, just not this soon. Tch, this is just adding to
your sect’s headache.”

“What is actually going on?”

Shang Wan’nian turned around, stared at him quietly for a short time, then
opened his mouth, yet no sound came out. He sneered in self-mockery.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to tell you, my little friend. When you fully repair
your primordial spirit, the accept the inheritance I have sealed here, you
will understand. There is a limitation to the inheritance where no one can
speak of Hear the Universe’s secrets.” He paused, smiling bitterly.
“Including dead people.”

Cheng Qian could make out no resentment or unwillingness on him. He

only appeared to be calm, which made him unable to help but raise a
question — everyone was pursuing the attainment of the Dao and ascension
to the heavens, so why did this man look to be completely unconcerned?

The other stood before him with a small sense of being apart from the
world. “I know all of you hate the Celestial Divination Bureau. They’re
despicable, high-and-mighty, and have killed many. Even falling to this
extent can’t wipe away their crimes. Yet, for so many years, the fact that
cultivators and mortals could live in peace this whole time was in no small
part because of those despicable villains. Now that the Bureau and the
Nightmare Travelers are defeated, both the demonic and righteous paths of
the Central Plains are groups with no leaders, and the catastrophe of
‘millions of unjustly-dead ghosts’ has begun. This is why I must safeguard
Han Yuan’s life.” Glancing at Cheng Qian, he then added, “I’m not actually
trying to buy off a favor off of your sect.”

Troubled ghosts were created in troubled ages. The Nine Sages were dead,
leaving only Han Yuan alive, and Nanjiang’s demons were by no means a
lump of scattered sand… but he might truly never be able to return to Fuyao
Mountain.

“Still, the timing of the Soul-Devouring Lamp reappearing is too

coincidental,” the other continued. “I didn’t expect my time to be up, so I
don’t have the time to investigate fully. I’ll just tell you a feeling I have that
might not necessarily be correct — someone knows that Tong Ru made a
wish on a ghostly stone, and has been continuously fanning the flames in
secret. Apart from the Bureau, the instigator of this foulness, only the four
of us should have known about it…”

Cheng Qian’s gaze flashed.

“No, it isn’t Bian Xu. If he really had such a methodical mind, he certainly
wouldn’t have drifted through life into looking like such a ghost now.”
Cheng Qian nodded — in an organization as big as the Bureau, who knew
who had accidentally leaked that info?

“That was the first thing.” Shang Wan’nian reached out at took back his
own consciousness that was wandering about in Cheng Qian’s inner
sanctum. “There is another thing I want to tell you. Did you know that
you’ve been tampered with?”

“What?” Cheng Qian’s pupils slightly shrank.

“It isn’t on your spirit-jade body, but your soul. Forgive me for being ill-
versed in this path, but I can’t see what it’s for. It hasn’t broken out yet?
Even though I can’t say that your cultivation base is unmatched in the
world, it’s enough to rise to the apex. I’m a bit unsure… who has the
remarkable power to place a curse upon you without a trace?”

Fingers trembling, Cheng Qian’s chest seemed to get stuffed with a chunk
of ice.

Over all these years, who had mastered this path? Who had had the
opportunity to tamper with his soul?

Shang Wan’nian took a measure of his expression. “It seems that you
already have an idea.”

Cheng Qian nodded with difficulty, then calmly asked, “Is there any way to
resolve it, Estate Lord?”

The other sighed. “I can’t tell what the curse it, so I’m afraid that while I
would love to help, I can’t… but, you don’t need to worry too much. If it
does genuinely flare up one day, Hear the Universe can resist it for you
from where I sealed it.”

“Thank you.”

Shang Wan’nian waved him off. “In the unseen workings of the world, this
is fixed destiny. Hear the Universe was meant to land into your hands,
there’s no need to thank me — I’ll be off to reincarnate.”
With that, the final string of his spiritual consciousness that had been left
behind in the world vanished. It seemed like he had shed some sort of
burden, disappearing without regrets.

When Cheng Qian came to, he was in the Residence of Peace, and
happened to hear an unfamiliar once. “…This Senior has had backlash on
account of his damaged primordial spirit. I believe that it might stem from
frequent use of true essence as of late.”

“…”

His mood had been heavy enough as it was. Where had this braying mule
come from?

He opened his eyes to see a cultivator wearing the uniform of White Tiger
Estate that was chattering on as he pressed on his pulse. Upon raising his
head to see Cheng Qian’s cold gaze, he immediately let go out of fright. “Y-
you’re awake, Senior?”

The other expressionless tyrannized him with his eyes.

Yan Zhengming reached over and took the little cultivator aside, blocking
Cheng Qian’s murderous line of sight for him. From his back, it could be
seen that he was angry.

“Don’t worry about him.” Yan Zhengming clenched his rear molars. “Tell
me; what comes after this backlash?”

“N-n-n-nothing comes after,” he white-clothed cultivator stammered.

“Senior Cheng’s p-primordial spirit is pure and profound. All he needs to do
is rest, a-and it won’t take much time for him to fix it. Don’t w-worry, Sect
Leader.”

Yan Zhengming’s expression relaxed slightly — though it still wasn’t

anything nise to look at — and then he ordered to guest to be ousted.
“Okay. Many thanks, take care, forgive me for not seeing you out.”
Li Yun, who was standing watch at the door, immediately smiled with
sincerity. “Over, here, please, come with me… it’s alright, don’t be scared.
Our Sect Leader doesn’t bite.”

The non-biting Sect Leader Yan watched them watched the two depart with
an overcast look, after which he slowly turned his head, preparing to settle
this post-worry debt.

Cheng Qian wasn’t in the mood to pet him along his fur, though. He
suddenly leaned back to stare emptily at the bed canopy overhead.

This reaction was not even a little like what Yan Zhengming had imagined
would be a guilty conscience. Taken aback, he put his prepared criticism
away for the time being, then somewhat powerlessly walked over to his
bedside. “What’s wrong, now?”

Cheng Qian said nothing, reaching out to pat right beside him in a motion
for him to sit down. After that, he closed his eyes, grabbed Yan
Zhengming’s hand, and placed it on his own chest.

He was aloof in personality, seldom able to team up with anyone. Tang

Zhen was only outsider closest to him.

Yan Zhengming’s hand was much warmer, more alive, and more like a
living person’s than his own.

He took in a deep breath. “Shang Wan’nian reached the end of his natural
life, and his primordial spirit went off to be reborn. As I see it, he left in
happiness. No one brought harm to him.”

That much had already been reported, so Yan Zhengming knew of it. “How
do you know that?” he asked, surprised.

“I saw him. He wanted to give an inheritance to me, but my primordial

spirit happened to be damaged, so I can’t accept it for a minute… it’s not
any sort of bullshit backlash that that guy just said. Aside from idiots who
use forbidden techniques to forcefully raise their cultivation base, who
would get backlashed by their own spirit?”
“…” Yan Zhengming pulled his hand away. “You trying to rebel?”

“Don’t make noise,” Cheng Qian whispered. “My heart hurts, senior.”

Yan Zhengming was dumbfounded at that. He had seen a Cheng Qian

covered in wounds from fights, seen him, a Cheng Qian that had choked
someone into a stumble from one sentence, and a Cheng Qian that had
barely managed to muster up the patience to tolerate him, but he had never
before seen a Cheng Qian that had furrowed his brows and said that his
heart hurt.

In his memories, Cheng Qian seemed to have a heart of stone. Nothing in

the world could sway him, nor make him bow his head.

This one bit of incidentally-divulged frailness caused Yan Zhengming to

suddenly feel bizarrely excited. He leaned over and tucked a few strands of
hair that were beside Cheng Qian’s face away. The more he looked at him,
the less he knew how to show affection to him, so he couldn’t resist
bending further down to plant a kiss between his slightly knit brows.
“What’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian said nothing, looking at the other’s face that was so close, and
thought with exhaustion, Will he betray me one day, too?

Yan Zhengming’s heart itched as he was watched by him, yet, out of

concern about his health, he dared not touch him, forced to settle himself.
“What are you looking at?”

Cheng Qian scrutinized him for a short time, then suddenly smiled breezily.
What am I even thinking about? Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. If he
wants my life, I’ll stake my life for him… there’s no betrayal to be had.

Yan Zhengming did not have penetrating vision, and could not see that
collection of love pledges in the other’s heart. He wet his lips, brazenly
salivating while his speech kept with its loathsome, shameless aloofness.
“Since your heart hurts, and so does your body, get a good rest today. I…
ahem, I can push anything else to the side and just keep you company.”
“…”

This Sect Leader was really just a one-of-a-kind species, sometimes.

Cheng Qian cleaned out his heart-filling, tender sentiments. Ugh. He’s so
annoying.

He raised his hand and pushed Yan Zhengming’s face away. “No need to
trouble yourself more. I have something I need to go out and do. Go to bed
by yourself.”

“Wait, you just got up…”

Cheng Qian’s figure zipped away. He was no longer in the room.

“…”

He couldn’t sort out the Residence of Peace’s owner, so he resolved to sort

out its bamboo forest.

Cheng Qian arrived at the guest room where Tang Zhen was staying, only to
find that the one in question had left at some unknown point in time. A
small box was left behind with a note tucked under its corner: “There is no
good in me staying further, so I will take my leave for the time being. What
is in the box is a Soul-Leading String. I never had the chance to give it to
you all, but I’m afraid that it likely has no use now.”

The String could draw out Han Yuan’s soul for a short period of time,
allowing them to have an opportunity to kill that heart demon of many evil
deeds without needing to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

The phrasing of the blood oath had specified for the ‘demonic dragon’. If
they actually did kill the heart demon, couldn’t the real Han Yuan pile the
blame onto it, not be required to travel to Nanjiang, and not have to suffer
lashings for five hundred years?

Cheng Qian clenched the note in his fingers, sighing soon afterwards. Had
he no doubts in his heart, he might have been ecstatically going off to give
this to Yan Zhengming right now.
Now that he did have doubts, why would Tang Zhen have brought the
String out now, instead of earlier or later?

He had been so hoping that Han Yuan wouldn’t go to Nanjiang. Had that
been out of good intentions, or had he just been wishing to make the waters
even muddier?

And… why had he left in such a hurry?

Affected, he abruptly looked up just in time to see Han Yuan’s eye-catching

panlong robe flapping up and down atop a low wall outside the room.

“That nosy old guy Shang Wan’nian died,” the other explained
indifferently. “They don’t have the time to pay attention to me right now, so
I came out for a stroll by myself. What have you got, there?”

Cheng Qian paused, then told the truth.

Hearing that, Han Yuan carelessly sat down upon the wall, smiling with
quite some self-mockery. “Just throw that away, it’s useless. Why did those
lies come out of our eldest’s mouth? It isn’t that he doesn’t know what a
heart demon is… how could there be two souls in one body? This isn’t
possession.”

“Oh? He’s become ‘our eldest’? Not ‘Noble Sect Leader’?”

Han Yuan got caught red-handed.

“He just wants to find an escape route for you,” Cheng Qian went on. “If
they really do try to kill you, the ‘one body, two souls’ thing could be used
as an excuse.”

Propping his arms against the low wall behind him, Han Yuan looked up at
the extensive night sky of Fuyao Mountain. A short while later, he said,
“There’s no need for that, little senior. I’ve discovered that no one can make
excuses for themselves.”

Cheng Qian reclined against the courtyard wall of the guest house, imitating
his action of looking upwards. The two of them, one sitting and one
standing, were on the same side, the same night sky above their heads. They
looked like they hadn’t been this close in a very long time.

“The three of you went to Yao Valley to rescue me. Second brother openly
admitted that he had tricked me into going in. Back then, I was thinking that
even though he looked like a prettyboy, he was actually a man of honor.”
Han Yuan stretched out his legs, splaying out. Were it not for those
imposing panlong robes, he would have vaguely resembled a rascally little
beggar.

“Later on, I found out that he was just really smart,” he continued,
following which his tone took a turn. “Back when I suffered from soul-
painting, I killed you by mistake. If we had switched places, little senior,
what would you have done?”

Cheng Qian said nothing, nor did he immerse himself in that scenario. Why
talk, when it didn’t matter?

“You would have definitely not jumped into the ocean to flee because of
soul-painting’s wild energy,” Han Yuan soliloquized. “One you broke free
of it, you would have definitely gone back to the sect’s door to admit your
crime. Whether your sect siblings would have blamed you or not would
have been their final say. You wouldn’t have hidden away.”

The other smiled painfully. “One bag of pine nut candy bought off your
high regard of me for these many years?”

Han Yuan started to laugh quiet. As he laughed and laughed, the lines at the
corners of his eyes slowly vanished. His face was clearly youthful, yet the
look in his eyes showed the wear of life.

“Honestly, I wasn’t afraid of what my siblings would do to do. I knew that

they wouldn’t do anything at all, but I was so ashamed that I couldn’t bear
it, little senior. Every day, every night, there was too much torment — I
could only turn it into hatred and viciousness.”

“You know that we won’t blame you.”

“I acted like I didn’t know that, but I did.”

The more he had known it, the deeper his guilt had grown.

No one was blaming him, but he had just blamed himself more and more.

“I fled for a minute, but I couldn’t flee for a lifetime. I understand that truth
now… but it isn’t too late, for me to still be able to see Fuyao Mountain.”

They went silent for a long time.

Cheng Qian suddenly raised his hand, which Han Yuan noticed from his
seat on the low wall. Knowingly, he leaned over a little, then clapped him
on the palm.

With that crisp sound, all the betrayal and entanglement, the several
confrontations, all shortly scattered into nothingness.

“Alright. Since you’re her senior that’s so casually terrified her, why don’t
you go find your junior sister and apologize to her?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Han Yuan said, slightly uneasy. “It’s too late tonight.
Finding such a grown-up lady in the middle of a night wouldn’t be great…
eh, it’s not like I watched her grow up. I’m really not used to it.”

Cheng Qian was deeply affected in that field. Right as he went to say
something, a fire in a distant courtyard appeared to explode like fireworks.
The figure of a Red Crane flashed, then landed upon a big tree. In the night
scene, Shui Keng shouted out with a slightly pointed voice, “Who are
you?!”

His expression turned bad. Touching Shuang Ren lightly against the low
wall, he was gone from his original spot the next instant; Han Yuan closely
vaulted forwards in chase.

There was an androgynous, pale-faced person in Shui Keng’s courtyard.

They were dressed in gaudy clothing that was even weirder than hers.
Han Yuan walked out a sphere of black fog. Crossing his arms across his
chest, he looked at the person and frowned. “A yao cultivator?”

When they spotted Han Yuan, they shrank back and retreated a few steps,
only for their escape route to be blocked off by someone else.

“Today is neither the first of the month, nor the fifteenth,” Cheng Qian said.
“Instead of obediently staying in Yao Valley, you ran over here. Would
patience kill you?”

One in front, one behind, the two made it so the yao cultivator had no place
to hide. They suddenly let out a shriek of fear, then transformed into a big
bird, moving up and down to leap into the cloud cover.

Han Yuan quickly took to the sky, the shadow of a dragon flashing by
behind him. Pressuring demonic qi fell into the air and firmly pushed the
big bird downwards. He flung out his sleeve, but the eight-trigram symbol
from the blood oath flashed on the back of his hand, making him tch. “I’m
not allowed to kill,” he said unhappily.

The giant yao collapsed to the ground in human form. Before they could
scramble away, a sword was already held against their neck.

The frost on the blade shone blue and white onto their throat.

Cheng Qian, grasping the sword, indifferently pressed them into the ground.
“I wouldn’t think to run, if I were you.”

A pained look showed up on the yao’s face. They didn’t appear to be great
at speaking human language. Kneeling on the ground, they looked up at
Shui Keng in suffering, then spoke in a weird accent. “You’re the
Empress…’s…”
 LY 98

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The Empress’s what, the bird yao stammered on and couldn’t say,
ultimately raising their head to the sky and letting out a cry in anxiety. One
clawed hand that had not yet had time to turn into a human one messily
drew a circle in midair, barely managing to gesture out what they meant —
You’re the Empress’s egg.

Shui Keng believed that being called like that was an utter affront to her
youth and beauty, so she put her hands on her hips and stood looking like a
teapot. “Yeah, an egg getting this big is like a fishbone stuck in your King’s
throat, huh? That old man sure has kept me in mind for so many years, to
send you to kill me as soon as Fuyao Mountain opened up! Just really
sincere… but are all of you in Yao Valley dead to the last? Isn’t not sending
anyone powerful looking down on me?”

Cheng Qian quietly took a half-step back to avoid her mad raging. In his
head, he couldn’t help but get a heavy suspicion — who had she learned
this standardly-perfect set of naggy scoldings from?

For once in her life, Shui Keng looked to be eloquent. The bird yao was
bug-eyed and tongue-tied, rendered mute. They shrank back, looking at her
in full sorrow, dusky eyes filling with tears that filled the rims, yet didn’t
fall.

The overbearing Shui Keng hadn’t foreseen this reaction, amazed on the
spot. “Hey, all I did was say a few things. What are you crying for?”
Even if the Yao King’s mind was going, he would not have sent a crybaby
assassin for the job. Seeing that the yao cultivator’s claws appeared to be
caked in red clay, he used Shuang Ren’s sheath to lift up one talon; after
peering at it in scrutiny for a short moment, he determined that it had come
from the courtyard wall of Fuyao’s guest house.

“What were you doing at the guest house?” he asked.

The yao cawed wildly and made gestures. Noticing that no one could
understand their bird words, they restlessly went to grab Shui Keng’s skirt.

Han Yuan slapped their talons away. “Speak properly. Don’t use your limbs
for it.”

The yao frantically scrambled up from the ground, pointed in a direction,

then cautiously took a few steps. Seeing that no one was attacking them this
time, they grew bold with reassurance, straightened up, and led the way.

This beast’s heart was uncannily honest; they earnestly played guide
without the slightest intention of fleeing. Every few steps, they would even
stop and wait for the rest.

The three followed them doubtfully. The yao brought them right up to Tang
Zhen’s guest house that he had stayed in prior to leaving. They pointed at
the building a said a good deal of bird words, but upon noticing that their
language wasn’t understood, they hurriedly scratched on the wall with their
talons.

Shui Keng: “…”

She was starting to not look forward to going to Yao Valley and leading the
entire race, because she got the sense that these people all appeared to be a
bit dim-witted.

Thoughts whirled around in Cheng Qian’s head. “The one that was staying
here already left — but you know him?”

The yao nodded on end.

“Could it be that it was because he saw you, that he left in such a hurry?”

They kept nodding.

“Bull.” He grabbed the yao’s neck that was thinner than a typical human’s,
then easily pushed them against the low wall, voice cold. “You alone could
scare him away? If you really knew something that you shouldn’t, he would
have silenced you long ago. How would he have tolerated you flying all
about?”

Tang Zhen’s betrayal was like a sharp knife stuck into his heart, his words
containing indescribably murderousness.

Both Han Yuan and Shui Keng were startled.

“Wait, what was that about silencing?” Shui Keng asked, doubtful. “Was
Senior Tang not staying here?”

The yao was nearly strangled to death by him, hairs puffing out as they
desperately struggled for a short moment. In the end, they pitifully drew out
a wooden tablet from their neck area. Even their tongue was getting
pinched, heaving sounds coming from their throat, and they stuffed the
tablet into his hands with a red face.

The power of a charm was vaguely contained with the tablet. His full-body
murderous aura not yet gone, he expressionlessly reached out to tear off the
tablet, then flung the yao to the side.

He saw a Red Crane carved right onto its surface, the crafting method
exquisite. The bird’s body looked sleek and elegant, every iota of it
represented… though, it didn’t looked to be Shui Keng that was engraved
on it, but what ought to be an adult Crane.

On its back, there was a densely-packed charm that overflowed with

newness despite its age, flashing with soft fluorescence in the night’s dim.

“What is that?” Han Yuan asked.

“A puppet charm.” Cheng Qian checked it over carefully. “Unused.”

“A puppet charm? How much use could that have?”

These charms could take a fatal hit for their owners one time, able to save
their lives at key moments, but it had nothing aggressive about it itself.
Why would Tang Zhen fear such a thing?

In regards to this bird of sparse cultivation base, if they didn’t die the first
hit, wouldn’t the second hit do it?

Cheng Qian was confused at first, and then a guess suddenly flashed past
his mind. “Was this carved by the one staying inside?” he tentatively asked.

Usually, puppet charms could only be used once, with one extenuating
circumstance — given that the charm itself didn’t fade in efficacy, the one
that made it would never be able to harm the one that carried it in any way.

The yao nodded like their life depended on it.

Why was Tang Zhen’s charm in the possession of a bird yao that had snuck
out of caves behind the mountain in the middle of the night?

What kind of weird addiction did Zhenren Tang have?!

Han Yuan used his toes to nudge the yao. “This thing is yours?”

The lisping yao puffed out their chest, saying with sonorous force,
“Empress’s!”

Hearing this, his face suddenly twisted up. “I don’t know what’s going on,”
he said to Shui Keng, “but I’m afraid your dad sucks.”

She was vacantly confused, looking at this and then at that.

The yao had always been wanting to get up close to Shui Keng, but was
pitiably getting obstructed by Cheng Qian’s Shuang Ren. Gesturing, they
took a box out from a pocket, with something seen to be wrapped in
multiple layers of silk inside. After said layers were peeled back, a fire-red
feather that was half a chi long was revealed.
The yao offered the feather up with both hands, cautiously extending their
arms to offer it up to Shui Keng. An unspeakable expectation was within
those misty eyes.

She was briefly startled, then involuntarily reached out to take it. Whatever
was on the feather’s surface, it pricked her finger open; a drop of blood
flower down, then merged into that blazing red in the blink of an eye.

A pure, drawn-out birdsong resonated through the air, immediately after

which a cloud of mist rose up, fell down to the ground, and spread out. A
real-looking mirage emerged before all their eyes.

Everyone’s lines of sight were first captured by a female yao. She was
draped in brocade robes that dragged on the ground, graceful and luxurious
from head to toe, and there was not a bit of unsightly yao qi about her face.
In spite of the man beside her barely being considered to have an
impressive appearance, his limelight was clearly seized by her dazzling
glory.

The two were dressed similarly, appearing to be a married couple, but there
was a far distance between them, rather giving an overtone of ‘mutual
respect like ice’.

The bird yao pointed at the two major yao inside of the mirage,
gesticulating. “E-Empress…”

Han Yuan looked at the Yao Empress in surprise, then at Shui Keng. He
wholly didn’t see how their little sister, who made herself up like a country
chicken, had ever come from the Empress.

There was another person behind the King and Empress. He appeared to be
there as a guest or to attend some ritual, standing like he was a detached
party.

Cheng Qian suffered a shock. “Is that our sect grandfather?”

The bird yao glanced at Tong Ru, adopting a reverent posture.

At the frontmost part of the mirage was an old man. Who even knew how
long he had lived for, as his wrinkles were heavy enough to trap and crush
flies in them. Painting with bright colors, his bone-thin hand gripped several
pieces of old tortoiseshell, and he chattered as he knelt on the ground. After
closing his eyes for a long while, he opened them like he had heard enough
of Heaven’s sounds; face full of a waning life, he sighed, then spat out
human language thereafter. “Those above proclaim that there will be a
calamity in the human world, the Heavenly Yao descending, born in
response to the calamity, coming into being while soaked in blood. It will
seize the power of the Yao King, causing great chaos.”

Hearing this, the Yao King’s face became disastrously hard to look at.
“Where is the Heavenly Yao?”

The old man opened up his crow’s beak. “Birthed from the womb of the
Empress.”

With that said, the elder did a full-body spasm, fell over onto the ground,
and died, actually transforming into a big crow on the spot. He had talked
up until his death.

A kick of his legs up into the air meant the end of all his troubles. There
was no nonsense to be had, and yet a huge disaster was led to.

The mirage flashed before the eyes. The Yao King was seen to wield a
sword, and there was a child beneath it, dead.

The child had the appearance of a five-year-old mortal child, some

similarity to the King in their appearance.

This scene warranted no explanation, as everyone understood what they

were looking at. The old crow had only said that the Heavenly Demon
would come to be, and that it would be born from the Yao Empress; he
hadn’t said whether it had already been born, or would be later. The King
believed that this calamity would be from his own child; having heard that
the Heavenly Yao would seize his power, he had decided that he would
prefer to believe that they were than that they were no, ‘justly’ killing his
own blood.
The Empress charged in, witnessed this scene, and played with fate by
turning hostile towards the King immediately. Unfortunately, she was
unable to defeat him, so she left the Valley with injuries, followed only by a
palm-sized gray bird right as she left.

The bird yao pointed at the dust-covered, flat-feathered animal that landed
upon the Empress’s back, shyly introducing themself. “Me.”

No one had paid attention to them. Who would be concerned over an ugly
little bird?

Afterwards, the mirage revolved once more. The Empress was seen to have
changed out of that cumbersome outfit, and was no dressed as just an
ordinary woman as she hurriedly brought others up Fuyao Mountain; a
young woman with a somewhat slow look, and a man that had suffered
heavy injury.

They were both familiar — the woman was Tang Wanqiu, and the man,
Tang Zhen.

A huge fang was jabbed down into Tang Zhen’s chest. Half of his body was
charred black, yet his delicate, refined features could still be made out.

“What piece of the past is this?” Han Yuan wondered.

“Tang Zhen once said that when he was young, he had encountered dangers
while traveling with his junior sister, and it was our martial grandfather that
granted him rescue,” Cheng Qian answered. “This ought to be that time.”

Right after he said that, the gate of Fuyao was seen in the mirage. A young
man that was in the middle of rolling up his pant legs to work on something
looked up — upon seeing him, Cheng Qian’s breath automatically hitched,
his entire being going still.

Master…

Han Muchun resembled what had been on his portrait, yet his mannerisms
were already in the fledging state of that old weasel’s later wretchedness,
inelegantly carrying a hoe on his shoulder as he saw the Empress from far
away. There were no appellations of respect in the man’s mouth, so he
directly shouted out her name. “Hong Yun! What winds have blown you
over here!”

While he spoke, his eyes swept over Tang Zhen and Tang Wanqiu. When
the latter met with his gaze, she was startled slightly for a second, then
lowered her head in unease, not daring to say anything.

“He was injured by the Taowu because of me. Where is your Master?
Hurry, I need to ask him for help.”

“The Fierce Beast, Taowu?” Han Muchun’s face slightly got serious,
quickly after which he threw the hoe that he had just been tilling something
in the dirt with into the air, stepped onto it without the slightly fussiness,
and flew into the sky. “Follow me.”

Cheng Qian took in Han Muchun greedily, in spit of the thing he was using
to fly, his muddied pant legs at uneven heights, and lack of any sort of
immortal bearing to be seen on him.

Even so, he couldn’t look enough.

After watching man until he could no longer be seen, Cheng Qian felt a bit
of desolation in the breakage of his line of sight.

The bird yao pointed at the courtyard where Tang Zhen had stayed, raising
their fist and beating their chest in what seemed like high reverence.

“Your Empress was injured by the Yao King, she left Yao Valley, and then
met with Taowu halfway through her journey… ah, I know. In the yaobeast
clan, it’s common for the strong to be respected, and to swallow up the
weak. Seeing that her cultivation base was damaged, the Fierce Beast
wanted to take advantage of the disaster, right?” Han Yuan guessed.

Cheng Qian snapped out of it. “So, Tang Zhen’s alleged injured wasn’t like
he said, where he ‘didn’t know his own strength’, but to save someone —
the Yao Empress?”
The yao nodded vigorously again. They raised their bird claws again,
unskillfully turned them into human hands, then wrangled their two
slightly-deformed thumbs into bumping together.

“This, I can understand,” Han Yuan answered lazily from beside him,
“They hooked up after recovering from their wounds…”

Cheng Qian shot a glance at him: Shut up.

Turning his head to see Shui Keng’s dumbstruck look, Han Yuan rolled his
eyes, then quietly swallowed his own disrespectful words back down.

At this point, Tang Zhen hadn’t yet been caught in the Soul-Devouring
Lamp, and did not have that dismaying, deathly aura lingering about him,
his eyes as tranquil as spring waters. His cultivation base wasn’t yet high,
but he was well-learned and had the modesty of a gentleman; even for a
human, attraction to him would be inevitable, to say nothing of a yao that
had never seen a decent man before.

Fuyao Mountain had a wide area with spare population. Sect Leader Tong
Ru would show up and disappear like a ghost, going completely missing for
ten days to a half-month. Han Muchun never attended to proper work,
accompanying the flowers, birds, fish, and bugs all day long; unless Tang
Wanqiu took the initiative to go look for him, he wouldn’t show his face.
Only the disciple Jiang Peng would occasionally appear to hand over some
medicines… since no one would be a disturbance, this made it a great play
for a rendezvous.

This all happened quite logically.

The Yao Empress held the grudge of a murdered child, which was basically
considered a rupture of relations. Her searching for another lover was not at
all strange, but the terrible thing was that there came to be a child between
them — exactly the one that was in answer to the calamity the old crow had
prophecized.

The Heavenly Yao’s birth was inauspicious, with the Empress attracting
heavenly tribulations as soon as she got pregnant, a dozen thick pillars of
lightning doing all they could to hack down upon her. Even Tong Ru was
alarm by this.

Tong Ru had simply watched for a short while, but ended up not being able
to take it anymore, moving to protect her. Thankfully, the Heavenly Yao
wasn’t born, so no credits led to no karma; the attracted heavenly
tribulations were not certain in their attempts to put the mother and child to
death.

Afterwards, Tang Zhen decided to leave Fuyao Mountain, embarking on a

quest to find the legendary Golden Lotus Leaf of Da Xue Mountain for the
Empress.

Crossing over the Northern border would lead to grasslands as far as the eye
could see, after which one would enter an iceland that never melted through
the year; that iceland was also known as the ‘Extreme North’, with Black
Tortoise Hall overseeing it. Even further past the Extreme North, there were
thousands of li of uninhabited tall mountains and deep abysses, where
divine lakes of the Sea of Beiming were. At the very end floated Da Xue
Mountain, with never melted.

The Mountain had no fixed location, and might not be in the same area
every time, thus being dubbed a ‘Mystic Site’. All sorts of legends told of
how amazing it was.

The Da Xue Mystic Site, Valley of the Heart Demon with its Tower of No
Regrets, and land-of-the-dead Valley of No Regrets were all known as the
three most inaccessible places in the human realm.

It was aid that golden lotuses grew at the heart of Da Xue. It only bloomed,
and normally did not grow leaves, but at the exact moment when the flower
withered and the mountain of snow collapsed and re-constructed, a thumb-
length leaf could grow from its roots.

That leaf could reach the source of the Great Dao, and turn all sin into
nothing.
Tang Zhen got the wildest idea; he wanted to go find the Golden Lotus Leaf
for his child, whose gender he didn’t even know yet.

Tong Ru personally saw him down to the foot of Fuyao. “The Leaf has been
nothing more than an ancient legend. I rummaged through the nine-story
Library Tower yesterday, and never saw it have even one real record of a
few scattered words. No one knowns if it actually exists… the Da Xue
Mystic Site is extremely dangerous. Even I might not be able to escape it.
Can you not think more on this?”

The other gave him a very deep bow. “I believe that effort always begets
results, Senior.”

The still-young Tang Zhen did not have nearly as much exhaustion and
anxiety on his face as he later would. He looked abnormally resolute, and
after saying farewell to Tong Ru, he floated off.

The mirage came to its end. “H-he n… never came back,” the bird yao
stammered.

“Junior sis was in that egg for over a hundred years,” Han Yuan said, “and I
remember that when we first met Tang Zhen, he said that he had been a
ghost sucked into the Soul-Devouring Lamp a hundred years ago. This
should probably be that time.”

Tang Zhen had never returned. Following that, Tang Wanqiu had also said
farewell on her own.

The Yao Empress had tried to kill her fetus several times, but ended up
unfortunately being unable to. After dodging the heavenly tribulations, she
left Fuyao, returned to Yao Valley, and then went up to Immortal Overlook
Platform by herself — what came after that, they already knew.

Had she been willing to bring the puppet charm Tang Zhen had left her onto
the Platform, maybe she wouldn’t have lost her life.

What a shame it was that she had refused.

A hundred years later, everything had changed. A few reckless children
from Fuyao Sect had brought the soul of Tong Ru as they charged in, then
took the Heavenly Yao away before she could get dyed in blood.

Cheng Qian inwardly sighed, thinking to himself, All those people are gone.
What’s the use in keeping objects?

Later on, Tong Ru had risked a heinous, worldwide offense to step onto the
Tower of No Regrets, then fight with the Heavens for his fate? Had that
been influence in some way by Tang Zhen’s phrase of ‘effort always begets
results’?

Thinking back on it, partway through the journey to Nanjiang, Tang Zhen,
who had been in the middle of going to look for the Ice-hearted Fire, had
suddenly stopped. Had he been drawn by the commotion of the Red Crane’s
transforming yao skeleton?

In that mad dance before the Ten-Party Array, Tang Zhen, someone who
had always been all talk, had suddenly gone to bar Xuan Huang’s way. Had
that been because Xuan Huang’s ji had been hacking towards Shui Keng?

But, since he knew the score, after he had already escaped the Soul-
Devouring Lamp a hundred years ago, why had he refused to show up for
all these years?

He had lodged in Fuyao Estate, and also Fuyao Mountain, before. Shui
Keng had even divulged her own past to him without any wariness. Why
had he constantly refused to say anything, not changing in expression even
after hearing her dissatisfaction?

Why had he left in such a rush after the bird yao had recognized him?

If it hadn’t been for the puppet charm he had carved himself years ago that
the yao had, would he really have silenced them, just like how Cheng Qian
had said?

Sui Keng suddenly turned around and left without another word. For the
first time in her life, she felt that she maybe shouldn’t have been born.
Cheng Qian smacked the yao that attempted to keep up with her using his
scabbard. He shot a look at Han Yuan. “Go and see to her.”

“I’m going to track down the Soul-Devouring Lamp.” With a raised of his
hand, an everlasting lantern beside the guest house’s doorway landed in it.
“Judging by Tang Zhen’s character, he likely didn’t make a stop halfway
through his journey back then. It should’ve been either near Da Xue, or
straight-up in Da Xue Mystic Site that he got swept into the Soul-
Devouring Lamp. I’m going to go take a look… by the way, you told me
last time that the reason Jiang Peng entered the ghost path was due to the
Celestial Divination Bureau?”

“The Nightmare Travelers’ information source…”

“It may not necessarily be true. That other day, the Third Prince said that he
had counted up the superpowers of the world, but even the Bureau’s Sect
Leader’s aptitude hadn’t been enough in his eyes. I’m getting the overall
sense that even though the Bureau wouldn’t have been incapable of it, with
how Jiang Peng’s cultivation base status was, he might not have been in
their eyes, either.”

Han Yuan raised a brow. “You have suspicions towards Tang Zhen. What
for?”

Cheng Qian’s face showed a bit of upset, and he said nothing. He dared not
be certain that the Soul-Devouring Lamp of today had anything to do with
Tang Zhen. Therefore, as long as there was a possibility that Tang Zhen was
innocent, it was impossible for him to voice out his own doubts.

Tang Zhen was, after all, his friend.

“Oh, I get it. The code of brotherhood.” Han Yuan grinned rather
sarcastically. “You plan to leave without word and head out by yourself?”

“Mn.”

Han Yuan raised both brows. “You’re not telling the eldest?”
“He’s really naggy.”

“Oh, is he?” Han Yuan deliberately dragged out his syllables. “You have the
guts to fool around and then leave without a goodbye?”

Cheng Qian’s face went stiff. He said nothing.

“You would be the type, little senior,” Han Yuan mocked.

Cheng Qian kept silent for a long time, then powerlessly conceded. “…I
don’t have the guts.”

Han Yuan hadn’t expected that he would so bluntly admit it. After being
mute for a minute, he couldn’t resist laughing. “I’ll go check on Shui Keng.
You hurry on to the Sect Leader’s room to grovel at him.”

Cheng Qian returned to the Residence of Peace with a heavy load on his
mind. He noticed that the bamboo forest behind the courtyard had
completely transformed into a bald patch.

Instead of thinking to demand justice for the bamboo sea, he felt a bit of
gratitude, hoping that Yan Zhengming’s anger would be used up and that he
could be milder for a minute.

Right as he moseyed on in, and before he could come up with proper

wording, Yan Zhengming had already noticed that something was wrong
from his slightly evasive eyes. “What are you going to do?” he asked in
suspicion.

Cheng Qian hesitated for a while, then gave a brief explanation. “I plan to
go to Da Xue Mountain.”

It was unknown what emotions Yan Zhengming was having, as he didn’t

say anything for a long time.

Cheng Qian’s heart thudded. Damn. That razed bamboo forest had no
effect.
The translator says: Yan “tantrums are always the answer” Zhengming
If you notice typos: yes. I sacrificed proofreading for 93+ in favor of actually getting stuff translated. Once the novel is closer to
done, I’ll go back and edit.
 LY 99

[If you’re not reading this on chichilations, then you’re reading a stolen copy. Reposts are not allowed anywhere or for any
reason!
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I see all your likes and comments~ Thanks in advance~]

This chapter was suggested by an Advisor Donor.

Cheng Qian cautiously observed Yan Zhengming’s expression. “I know

what’s right and wrong in this. I won’t go deep into the Mystic Site, and I
won’t touch anything inside it. I just want to go look for the trail the Soul-
Devouring Lamp left—“

“Even Tong Ru said that he might not have been able to escape intact going
into that place,” Yan Zhengming cut him off. “You feel yourself to be more
powerful than him now, as you’re practically able to ascend, yes?”

“…”

“There’s that Tang Zhen, too. He was human when he left, then changed
into a ghost after a hundred years. You think that you’re more cautious than
him, more learned than him, right?”

Cheng Qian’s head hurt. “Senior, just say it. Don’t be so obtuse.”

“Oh, okay.” Yan Zhengming stopped being obtuse, and turned decisive.
“That’s impossible.”

Cheng Qian did not speak out against him, merely shutting up and waiting.

Millions of resentful souls sacrificed for spiritual stones — at the end of it

all, that had been because of Tong Ru.
Later on, Jiang Peng, secretly floating between life and death for years as he
secretly refined the Soul-Devouring Lamp, had been a titled Fuyao disciple.

After establishing the blood oath where he would have to catch the Soul-
Devouring Lamp, the demonic dragon Han Yuan, set to guard Nanjiang for
like, was also a Fuyao disciple.

For three generations, they had been unable to shake off their relationship
with it. They couldn’t stay out of this on account of feelings and logic.

There was no need for him to repeat these events like a rolling wheel. Yan
Zhengming knew them by heart.

As expected, a short while later, Yan Zhengming abruptly stood up, then
paced around the room like a donkey pulling a grindstone. “Had I known
earlier that this sect would be such a bother, I would have rather died than
take Master’s Sect Leader Seal from you back then,” he grumbled.

Cheng Qian knew that his thoughts had already turned, so he allowed him
to be exasperated without a single comment.

Seeing that no one was answering his trick, the other went purposefully
looking to start something. “Are you mute? Speak!”

“I… uh.” Cheng Qian thought for a bit. “I can warm your bed for you
tonight?”

Yang Zhengming flew into a rage. “I’m trying to talk to you about serious
business! What trash are you thinking about in your head?! Scandalous!”

“…”

Looking at his reaction, Cheng Qian felt like a pervert that had just harassed
a good woman. He rubbed his nose with quite some awkwardness.

“Go, go, go! Get out, now!”

Cheng Qian silently headed out.

“Stop!” Yan Zhengming was extremely angered by his lack of propriety.
Vexed, he wavered between his dignity and material benefits for a long
time, then decided to just be real by being shameless. “Who told you to get
out?”

“…”

Despite him having to rely on his senior for this, he felt that this trashbag
was really too hard to attend to.

“It isn’t impossible, but I want to go with you.” Yan Zhengming coughed
lightly, getting a bit serious. “In a few days, Han Yuan will go down South
with that White Tiger Estate group. Shui Keng, Li Yun… and that cheap
disciple of yours will stay behind to keep watch on things.”

“That won’t do,” Cheng Qian answered. “The Wish-Granting Stone is on

Fuyao Mountain. If you actually do leave, our second and the rest might not
be able to guard it.”

Yan Zhengming furrowed his brows as he mumbled to himself for a short

moment. “Then we’ll seal the mountain back up and have them represent
the sect as they go out for that demon-slaying trip. That’ll be the same as us
going ourselves.”

Cheng Qian was worried about the unknown issue remaining on his soul,
which he hadn’t yet dared to speak with Yan Zhengming about for right
now. He wanted to act alone, having considered this aspect — the
consequences created by Han Yuan’s soul-painting a hundred years ago
were really too tragic. He had been been bitten by a snake once, and now
feared ropes, having a particular aversion to these curse techniques.

After thinking about it, he made a roundabout excuse. “This needs to be

talked about at length. The blood oath was started by Shang Wan’nian, and
now he’s dead, while no one knows what the name of the new Estate Lord
will be. Even though the oath is in their hands, those disciples might not be
able to control Han Yuan, while Bian Xu bears anger; beyond that, looking
as his appearance, his cultivation base as clearly stagnated. He probably
doesn’t have many years left. Nowadays, there’s not a single person with
speaking power in the Central Plains; if you seal up the mountain to go up
North with me, then…”

Yan Zhengming silently stared at him.

“Then, even if I have no objections, others might not be willing for it,” he
finished calmly.

“Cheng Qian.” Yan Zhengming sneered. “Don’t think that I don’t know
what’s in your heart beneath those clothes and that human skin.”

“…”

His nicely-worded patience finally came to an end with a frown. “I’m just
going on a trip. Are you planning on sticking to me all my life?”

“Yes,” the other answered, “I just want to put you on house arrest here for
all time, so what else are you thinking of saying? ‘Even prisoners will have
times they can go outside’, right? Right! Prisoners can do that, but not you
— got it? That’s what I think! Do you have regrets, now?”

Cheng Qian had quarreled from childhood to adulthood with him, and
completely grasped the guy’s special characteristic of being entirely
unreasonable and annoying bothersome. He was a bit annoyed, but right
when he wanted to open his mouth and retort, he suddenly noticed that Yan
Zhengming’s lips were trembling slightly and nearly bloodless. Contained
inside his irritable look appeared to be deeply-buried pain, likely age-old
scars that were hidden in his bottommost depths by his tough veneer.

Words arrived at the edges of Cheng Qian’s lips, yet he suddenly couldn’t
speak them out.

He had to clench his hand that had Hear the Universe hidden, thinking to
himself, Can I really trust in this piece of junk?

He was quiet for too long, nearly terrifying Yan Zhengming a little.

Those words of his had been blurted out without passing through his brain
first. He himself couldn’t distinguish between which of them had been out
of truth or out of anger, but that didn’t inhibit him from already regretting
them. Right now, his mind was a momentary blank expanse, unable to think
up a way to retrieve what he said for the life of him. “I…”

“Okay,” Cheng Qian suddenly said. “You really want to come with, so let’s
go together. I’m just afraid that we’ll need to leave quickly, and return just
as fast.”

Yan Zhengming watched him dumbly, not yet returning to his senses.

Cheng Qian’s anger had thoroughly leaked out. He sighed, then beckoned
towards the other. “Alright, don’t stare blankly. Come over here.”

Sect Leader Yan, who had just been so enraged that he was nearly ready to
bite someone, obediently followed him into the room.

The day after, Yan Zhengming happily declared his own ‘careless’ decision,
but Li Yun was suffering.

He hadn’t expected that with a mere shut and open of his eyes, so many
things would have happened in great numbers. He was narrowly bowled
over from these stories that could be spread out together and made into a
picture book.

He looked at their Sect Leader expressionlessly. “So…?”

“You’ll take Nian Dada and Shui Keng to look after Han Yuan on their trip
for me. We will return to group up with you all in ten days to half a month,
at the most.”

Li Yun sneered. “Right. I’ll bring the disciple, watch the kid, cow a junior
brother that’s so savage I’m no match for him at all, and also have to uphold
the sect’s reputation, stepping one interfering foot into the business of
‘eliminating demons and defending the Dao’… Sect Leader, do you think I
have three heads and six arms?”

“Well, you’ve entered the Dao with Ninth Chain, are cunning in mind, and
always pretty competent. I believed that none of that will be an issue for
you.”

How kind of him to not be disdainful of his low cultivation base and lack of
work ethic! Li Yun wanted to smash that fake praise right onto Yan
Zhengming’s face. “Piss off!” he roared in rage. “Whoever wants to do that
can do it, but I won’t! You might as well expel me from the sect!”

Li Yun, who lived life year-round in a hell of torment, howled in protest

often. Yan Zhengming had long grown accustomed to this, so he simply
ignored him, then turned to Shui Keng. She appeared to have not yet
mentally recovered from what happened last night, looking wilted and
unenergetic.

“Junior sister, come with me,” he said.

Ever since he had started hanging around the Residence of Peace, this was
the first time he had taken it upon himself to go out its door. He led her
straight to the Hall of Ignorance.

The worn-out, thatched building where Zhenren Muchun had lived was the
same as it always was. Daolings would come to clean it every day, its
courtyard very tidy. Shui Keng gave him a confused look, not knowing
what the meaning of this was.

He pointed at the busted, three-legged wooden table. “Carved under that

table are the rules for our Fuyao Sect. When your brothers entered the sect,
each of us had to copy them over forty-nine times. As for whether or not
these sect rules need to be complied with is something you can figure out
for yourself, like that rule about not about not entering the caves and
whatnot on the first and fifteenth of the month are for small children that
have just entered. You can just copy them twice, then not worry about it any
more.”

Upon saying this, he paused a bit, then cleared his throat with a grave
expression. “Admitted disciples should have been brought by Master into
the Hall of Ignorance and personally bestowed a precept; even though
you’ve been admitted for a hundred years, you have never gone through this
procedure. Now that Master is gone, I, as your senior, will have no choice
but to overstep my bounds…”

Her eyes widened.

Yan Zhengming lowered his eyes to look at her. “You are optimistic by
nature, and have no lack of propriety. You don’t overthink about anything,
nor do you act too excessively. This is good. If you can put a bit more effort
in and have less fanficul daydreams, your cultivation base will improve by a
layer.”

She had heard that when Master gave precepts, he would first list one’s
shortcomings before granting them, and hadn’t expected that her senior
would give her such a high evaluation. She felt somewhat powerless.

“I’ll task you with passing a message along to your fourth brother: ‘Fuyao
has walked the path of humanity since time immemorial, and doesn’t need
to listen to Heaven’s will.’ Naturally, there is a high need to discuss origin.
You should have been born in a bath of blood, but you weren’t. You should
have arrived in response to catastrophe, but you’ve grown to this size in
peace. Tong Ru wholeheartedly wanted to change the sect’s fate, and
Master’s fate. Looking at things now, he appears to have entirely failed,
only unintentionally planting aid for you that got you to where you are now.
As is evident, some things do not need to be overly held on to — today, I
give you the precept of ‘Nature’. I hope that in the future, regardless of
whether you’re a high power that can make the yao bow their heads, or just
a minor disciple of the sect that amounts to nothing, you will always be
candid about everything you are, not holding yourself up too high, nor
making yourself suffer. There are three thousand branches to the Great Dao.
If you have a broad enough understanding, there will come a day that your
own unique route will reach its destination. Got that remembered?”

He was rarely this serious, giving Shui Keng a momentary illusion. She felt
that he was akin to an undecaying mountain ridge that always
inconspicuously supported from the depths of Fuyao — typically hidden
behind mountain-coating glowers and weeds or snow and mud, but in
exceedingly rare times, showing calmness and staunchness of a blade
unhurried.
She had been raised by her senior brothers; in comparison to her biological
father, who was ambiguous in attitude and refusing to acknowledge her,
their Sect Leader was more like her father.

Her nose suddenly ached, and she gave a muffled hum. “Okay. Thank you,
senior,” she said, muffled.

Unfortunately, before she could be properly moved, she saw Yan

Zhengming let out a long sigh. “I’m finally done dealing with you,” he said,
both disdainful and brisk. “I’ve always felt you to resemble a wild disciple
without undergoing this process, so now you should be domesticated… in a
while, you’ll go clean up the Hall of Ignorance. I won’t be here in a few
days — you’ll accompany Li Yun in copying the sect rules, so flop about
and cause trouble less.”

“…”

Alright, then. Their eldest’s goodness would forever be just a flickering

shadow, which would then flow far, far away.

Like so, Yan Zhengming sealed Fuyao Mountain, which had only
reappeared in the human world for a few days, back up. Everyone prepared
to go their separate ways once again.

Calmly, Han Yuan watched the mountain gradually disappear into the
Mystic Site, packing as much of the scenery as he could into his mind,
because he knew that he would never be coming back.

“Go on,” Yan Zhengming said to them. “See you in Shuzhong in a month.”

Cheng Qian and him flew swiftly on their swords the whole way, not
stopping for one second en route. They reached the Extreme North in one
day and one night.

Superpowers crossing the border nudged the warning bell hanging above
Black Tortoise Hall. The disciples that were guarding the gates that day
went out to investigate, but found no one — there was only a faint and
narrow trail of frost to be seen in the sky, which instantly melted in midair.
Past the Hall and heading North, there was a large frontier of ice fields with
no human habitation. The borderless white made the Heavens and the Earth
become one, unreasonably desolate.

They flew over the Extreme North’s ice fields and great abysses for three
full days. The air was getting colder and colder, giving Cheng Qian the
illusion that he had returned to the ice pool in Mingming Valley. Still, that
pool at just been one nook, simply incomparable to the chill of the great,
boundless ice fields, as well as their indiscriminate callousness towards all
living things. It was like all hopes and lives would be ended here.

After the three days, the ice plane came to an end. An expansive sea
abruptly rushed into view — they had finally reached the Sea of Beiming.

Yan Zhengming shook the Stone Seed out of his sleeve. It fell into the
stagnant ocean water, then transformed into a ship that towered like a
mountain, which sailed by itself with no captain. The lotus brocade and
censer-included carved bed in the hold looked familiar, having the same
specifications as a land of luxury would.

Cheng Qian went around and admired the ship both inside and out, not
knowing what to say to him.

“What are you looking for?” Yan Zhengming asked.

“A songgirl,” Cheng Qian teased with a straight face. “I get the overall
feeling that in the very next moment, I’ll be able to hear the cries of
warblers, singing out something that you said… what did you call it,
again?”

“Shove off. This damned place is going to freeze me to death,” Sect Leader
Yan complained without any sort of sincerity, all the while he was wearing
soft, embroidered robes and waving a folding fan. “This is all because you
went looking for trouble!”

“…”
Sect Leader Yan sprawled out on his back on one side of the soft bed, then
arrogantly pointed his chin in command. “Why are you still not coming
over here and massaging my legs?!”

Used to ignoring his senseless provocations, Cheng Qian leaned against a

mast and gazed out at the sea.

It was clearly straight noon right now, yet there was not a glint of light on
its surface. It resembled pitch ink, more indescribably black than even the
deepest mountain abysses. The sky was on-and-off dark, too. Not one fish
was seen in the water, the ocean calm and level. It seemed like a dead zone.

Lined up against this place, the East Sea with its numerous reefs and
turbulent waves was practically a babbling brook.

No one knew how deep the Sea of Beiming went. When he looked down
into the ocean, he couldn’t resist getting that feeling he had had when young
and sticking out his head to look into the Valley of the Heart Demon — he
clearly knew the dangers inside it, yet he wanted to probe all the way
through it all the more.

“Who is worthy of being crowned with the title of Beiming? All those short-
sighted mortals are nothing short of preposterously self-important.”

He had suddenly recalled Tong Ru’s words. When first hearing them, he
had believed his martial grandfather to be bitter and self-deprecating; it was
not until this moment that he was truly convinced of them.

As genuine night descended, the far and vast sound of wind began to sweep
past the ocean’s surface, its wailing like a myriad of phantoms circling
about when it passed. The ship that the Stone Seed turned into was a
hundred zhang tall, yet when it traversed over this, it looked like a skiff.

Without realizing it, Cheng Qian remained calmly standing on the side of
the ship for one whole day and night, having entered meditation without the
slightest bit of warning. It was strange to say, but while he had been born
narrow-minded, he was particularly bound to the wide sea and empty sky.
Every time he meditated, if he wasn’t up in the sky, he was by the sea; this
practicing process itself was presumably making up for his lack.

Outside of the East Sea was Beiming. What was outside of Beiming, then?

Human lives did not last as long as the world did. What was the world
before it had begun, and what would it be after it decayed?

With their limited bodies, they explored the unlimited realms, entering this
extremely narrow road and walking on this path that was foreordained for
martyrdom. Was that merely for the sake of mortals’ vain wishes to ascend,
thus being all-powerful?

At this moment, Hear the Universe, from where Shang Wan’nian had sealed
it in his inner sanctum, subtly resonated with the Sea of Beiming, as if they
were faraway echoes passed down from ancient times. In his daze, he heard
the bells toll again; Hear the Universe suddenly shone lustrously with
brilliant colors, but unfortunately, the force Shang Wan’nian maintained
beside his primordial spirit slightly blocked it, and it receded again.

It was unknown how long had passed before he woke up. Upon opening his
eyes, he noticed that Yan Zhengming was leaning against the cabin with
misty all around him, keeping watch by his saw.

As soon as he saw him, Cheng Qian felt like he had fallen from the heavens
to land in the mortal realm, the fondness automatically born in his heart
making him smile a bit. “How long has it been?” he asked.

Yan Zhengming raised a hand to wipe the dew off his face for him. “Three
days. I’m bored to death.”

“Three days?” Cheng Qian was taken aback, frowning as he took a look
around their surroundings. “We don’t even have a map. How are be going to
find the Da Xue Mystic Site?”

“Finding a map would be pointless. You wouldn’t be able to understand a

sea map, anyways. The Stone Seed doesn’t move with the water’s flow, it’s
drawn by areas of dense, pure qi. We’ll roam around and look. Isn’t the
rendezvous with them in a month? It won’t take more than a few days to
think of something.” Yan Zhengming came in close as he spoke, then
languidly reached out and help Cheng Qian by the waist, clinging close.
“It’s really quiet here. It feels like we’re the only two left in the whole
world.”

Cheng Qian thought meticulously about that scenario, then suddenly

trembled in fear. “What? And be the only one left for you to torment? I’d
better hurry and off myself.”

Yan Zhengming had a seldom-seen tranquility today. Not lowering himself

to his level of being a super wet blanket, he held him even tighter. “When
we were in the Valley of the Heart Demon, I thought about this more than
once. If we were the last two left in the world, that would be great.”

While he said that, he slightly shut his eyes, feeling that in this very
moment, his heart was finally filled up full.

There had always been gaps left in it before this. At times, turmoil had been
able to knock a string of fanciful images out; even on Fuyao Mountain, he
would occasionally wake up with a start from some irrelevant nightmares.

One day, he had even dreamed that Fuyao was finally back to being the
head of ten biggest sects, its limelight growing, and yet there were
countless, beautiful female cultivators coming to the mountain in quick
succession, seeking Cheng Qian out to become dual cultivation partners
with him. He had then woken up out of supreme anger, and only upon
seeing Cheng Qian’ s peacefully sleeping face had he realized that that had
only been a difficult feeling emitted from the bottom of his heart.

Seeing that Cheng Qian’s earlobe was close to him, he couldn’t resist
lightly licking it, then opening his mouth to suck on it, rubbing it with his
canines.

The other jolted and elbowed him, a thin layer of red quickly rising up from
his neck to his ears. “What are you doing? Do you think this is Fuyao?” he
scolded.
Yan Zhengming let him go, laughing lowly. “Others in the past have told
me that Sword Spirit Realm is nothing but blades. I didn’t believe them, but
now I understand why it’s come to be that each step has one heart demon…
humans are never satisfied. Before, I thought that even if it was beside the
Yellow Springs or the mouth of the river of forgetfulness, it would be great
if I could see you again. After we met again after such a long separation, I
then thought that if your heart was like my heart, everything would be fine,
even if I never spoke it out for my entire life… now, I’m suddenly not
satisfied enough again. Before the name ‘Cheng Qian’, I forever want to
add the word ‘my’.”

Despite his heart being warmed by him, Cheng Qian sincerely teased him.
“Your own feelings wavering all over the place has to do with your
cultivation base not being enough. Don’t blame the Sword Spirit Realm.”

“…”

After being silent for a minute, Yan Zhengming stared at him gravely. “Did
you actually not hear me pour out my heart to you?”

The other started laughing immediately, which humiliated him into anger, to
the point that he struck a pose like he was going to go back into the cabin
and sulk. Cheng Qian quickly grabbed his hand while smiling. “Hey, senior,
don’t get mad. I wasn’t…”

His voice abruptly cut off as his pupils slightly contracted. All of a sudden,
he felt the boat beneath their feet picking up speed — in the next instant, he
pulled Yan Zhengming to his side, reached out, and grabbed the mast, the
entire Stone Seed-turned-ship bobbing straight up and down at the same
time.

He saw that the vast, edgeless Sea of Beiming appeared to split apart down
the middle out of nowhere, tearing the whole world into two different parts,
creating a huge ‘waterfall’ that was tens of thousands of chi deep…

And, even with such a horrifying scene, there was not a bit of the sound of
water to be heard.
There was no time for him the think carefully about this, as the big ship had
crossed right over the gap, and flown outwards.

The translator says: The entire fucking sea decided that it didn’t want to see any declarations of love.
 LY 100

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The still ocean water was split into two without any prior warning, an
infinitely deep abyss nearly a hundred zhang wide made in the middle. The
huge ship plunged headfirst into the depths, emitting a rumbling sound in
midair like it was going to fall apart, sounding like someone’s teeth were
rattling.

Kneading his ears, Yan Zhengming waved his hand to retract the Stone
Seed into his sleeve. The two each mounted their swords, then stopped
perilously above the crevasse.

There was no wind, nor waves. The water bobbed right up and right down,
but its rate of flow was so slow, it was unnatural, simultaneously supporting
a frigid seawater wall, its lifeless ripples the spitting image of paint.

The two midair swords shivered involuntarily, as if intending to throw off

their masters and flee solo at any time.

Cheng Qian gathered true essence into his eyes, then looked down. The
gap’s end could not be seen.

“Senior, you said that your lousy boat would find the Site by itself
according to its pure qi, yet it ended up finding a ditch?” he had to mock,
finding something funny in this pain.

Yan Zhengming glared at him. “How would I know about this?

Furthermore, why the hell would I come to this hellscape for no good
reason? Don’t put all the blame—“

“I’m all to blame, it’s all me, okay?” Cheng Qian hurried to cut him off.
“Now, what? We’re leaving, right?”

“What do you think? Are you going to be stuck in this ditch for the new
year?” Yan Zhengming slightly adjusted his wooden sword’s height, then
grabbed Cheng Qian’s wrist in warning. “Don’t let go of my hand.”

The two were utterly cautious as they flew forth on their swords, trying to
get some distance from the pit before the released the Stone Seed again, but
something bizarre happened — the abyss seemed to be alive.

It resembled a unmeasurably deep mouth with a black hole for an open

throat as it chased after them relentlessly. They flew up higher, only for the
water and the chasm below them to also swell in suit. They flew forwards,
and the chasm became the moon in the sky; where the people went, the
ravine also went.

Time slightly elongated, fuzziness appearing before the eyes.

If this goes on, our true essence will get drained, and we won’t be able to
escape this place, Cheng Qian thought to himself.

He turned his head to see that one side of the abyssal seawater wall was
extremely oppressive, looking like it was soon about to collapse and crush
them underneath it.

A feeling of suffocation steeply arose in his chest due to the oppression.

Shuang Ren suddenly shrieked; snow-bright swordlight flashed as it was
quickly irrigated with Tide Swordplay swordwill. The retaliating Swordplay
fearlessly swirled up the tsunami-like Beiming water, and the originally
static surface of the sea started blustering up into a huge, pitch-dark tide, ice
fragments tiering up on its fringes, which produced eye-piercing white in
the black water as it pelted down upon the stifling sea wall.

There was a crash, the massive sound seeming to deafen all of the Sea of
Beiming. A chill went through his heart — there was something under the
sea wall!

Thus, without counting them, he raised huge waves in quick succession,

turned them into tower after tower of soaring icebergs, and continuously
rammed them into the wall.

Yan Zhengming automatically blinked as he felt the water vapor in the air
solidify into bits of ice, then brush past him like little knives.

He stroked the back of his neck, sensing that Cheng Qian was pretty
enormously tolerant of him, actually.

Following several such direct collisions, the entire outer surface of the wall
broke apart. The thin water curtain appeared to get pulled by some
unknown power, shifting it to the sides to reveal a gigantic natural iceberg
in its middle.

It was flat, as if shaved, and stretched on for a thousand li, not a hint of a
crack anywhere on it. It was unclear what it encased, but it refused to come
up to the surface, hiding half-sunken, half-floating in the black water.

Was this the Da Xue Mystic Site?

Could it be that the legendary Site of no fixed location was actually under
the Sea of Beiming?

Yan Zhengming pressed on Cheng Qian’s sword-wielding hand. “You’ve

sure come across a huge dead rat, my blind cat,” he murmured.

They were both beyond bewildered. The next moment, countless delicate
swords from the primordial spirit flew out of Yan Zhengming’s sleeves like
raindrops, then descended upon the icy layers of unknown depths. The
sharp sword tips struck against the thick ice, the chaotic noise of metal and
stone ringing out; the majority of the swords bounced back into the air,
turned into pure qi, then went back into Yan Zhengming’s inner sanctum,
but a few of them sunk into the ice.
The spirit swords contained thousands of strands of his spiritual
consciousness, and as soon as any of them vanished, he would immediately
detect it. “Here,” he said, tugging at Cheng Qian.

Following the sword copies, the two quickly found the area where the
blades had stuck in — beneath the inconsistent illumination of the black
sea, there was a small cave less than one human tall in the massive ice
chunk.

Cheng Qian did not shun the cold, reaching out to explore the inside of a
smooth notch in the cave. Icicle bits immediately billowed and pointed at
his palm, looking like a group of tiny blades standing erect on the ice’s
surface.

“Someone made this,” he said. “See? There’s still residual sword qi in the
gap… ah?”

His hand abruptly paused. A thin current of bloody qi flew out from within
the icicles, passed through his finger, then recklessly rammed into his body-
protecting true essence. It was only remnant qi, already quite weak, and yet
it still had the viciousness to want to fight him.

“A demonic cultivator?” He took back his hand in slight surprise.

Could it be Tang Zhen?

With one glance at him, Yan Zhengming knew what he was thinking. “It
isn’t Tang Zhen. This sword qi is old, yet still so violent; it’s plain to see
that the one that made this cave had to have been a powerful demonic
cultivator, whose base was definitely no lesser than yours. Tang Zhen
wouldn’t have been off the mountain for a long enough time, and if he had a
base like this, he would not have ended up like that over a merely injury
from a fierce beast.”

Once he brought that up, a thought flashed through Cheng Qian’s mind.

The Yao Empress had been heavily injured by the Yao King back then;
adding that onto her having been an auspicious bird, she and the beast had
been innately at odds, so her nearly getting chewed by it had been within
reason. Cultivators with some backing power that were out of the sect,
however, should have always had common goods for subduing yao,
warding off evil, and healing on them; even the softest of them, Li Yun,
would not have suffering any losses coming across that beast, to say
nothing of the fact that Tang Wanqiu had been around.

Unless…. at the time, Tang Zhen’s cultivation base had been far inferior to
Li Yun’s, to the extent that the siblings hadn’t even had primordial spirits.

“You want to go in and see?” Yan Zhengming asked.

Cheng Qian nodded, turning sideways to enter the human-made ice cave.

He had wanted to repeat his move from the Ten-Party Array; a cluster of
fire jumped out with a flick of his fingers for illuminate, but this trick didn’t
work at all in the ice cave. After the flame was ignited, it rapidly died and
went out, and the same went for repeated tries. Apparently, the Site did not
tolerate any light.

Yan Zhengming placed his hand on his, then drew a night pearl out of his
Bag of Holding like a rich guy. “Something’s off with this place. Save your
strength.”

The artificially-made passage was extraordinarily narrow and long, various

chopping marks of sabres and axes vaguely able to be see. Clearly, it had
not been a lone person that had come here. The people that had opened the
cave were either a team of shorties, or they just didn’t make the tunnel very
high in order to conserve energy; the two of them had to bow their heads to
walk through it, the pressure of which made one very irritable.

Yan Zhengming could feel the hair on top of his getting messed up by the
ice. “When we get out of here, you’re going to have to comb out my hair
again,” he said in displeasure.

Cheng Qian felt exasperated. “As you wish. I promise that I’ll brush along
your fur.”
They went along with bowed heads and backs arched like cats’ for a full
fifteen minutes, and only then did the narrow passage come to its end. Even
So, the breaths suspended in their chests did not have time to get breathed
out.

This was the entry of the real Da Xue Mystic Site; a wide clearing suddenly
opened up before them, and they discovered that there was something very
peculiar with this entirely different world.

The night pearl Yan Zhengming held started flashing on and off like it was
possessed, then eventually put itself out.

There not being any light shouldn’t have been important, as blinded
primordial spirit cultivators would still have spiritual consciousness, which
could easily sweep out for a few li around. However, Yan Zhengming
quickly found out that it had become oddly difficult to place his
consciousness outside in this place. He blinked forcefully, the ice particles
congealed upon his lashes falling straight down, and in that split second, he
felt the piercing cold.

With his cultivation base, cold and heat had long been unable to encroach
upon him, and a sword cultivator’s body was a bit sturdier than other
cultivators’, as well. His typical complaints about temperature were purely
him starting shit.

Yet, the chill here was different, causing him to have a split second of
misperception, as if he had suddenly lost his cultivation base and turned
into a powerless mortal once more.

Cheng Qian’s hand was too cold, while Yan Zhengming’s skin was already
too frozen to feel anything. He could barely even sense Cheng Qian’s
existence. Spiritual consciousness met with difficulty in sweeping his
surroundings, he was barely able to clearly ‘see’ the space three chi below
his feet, and no matter the distance, his senses seemed to be getting frozen
still by the ice.

Just recently, he had still been whining about that long corridor of ice being
too narrow to lift his head up in, but now, he felt that this place was way too
big. For a short time, he got the illusion that he was standing on the very
edge of the world, neither living nor dead, accompanied only by this
unmatched loneliness and cold, dithering here all by himself…

All of a sudden, the back of his hand got pinched hard. “Don’t let your
mind wander here,” Cheng Qian whispered.

Jolting, Yan Zhengming took a few intense gasps. The icy air went straight
into his lungs. It was like he had just come back alive from a deathland.

Following that, he discovered another awfully terrible thing — the very

moment he got distracted, a wisp of cold qi had penetrated his inner
sanctum, freezing it entirely. Those pieces of true essence, ever-surging and
resembling sharp swords, were deathly still from the cold. Had it not been
for Cheng Qian’s interruption, his primordial spirit would have almost
unconsciously left his body.

“It’s too cold,” Yan Zhengming whispered, returning to his senses. “Was the
ice pool in Mingming Valley this cold?”

Cheng Qian was obviously more adapted to this than he was. As he led Yan
Zhengming in a cautious walk forward, he used deliberately heavy footsteps
to break the silence here. “Mn. A different thing, but the same result. Keep
talking to me, or it’ll be easy to qi deviate.”

“How was it like, in your years there?” Yan Zhengming chased after.

“The pool was very cold. When cold gets to a certain extent, one will
hallucinate inside it, making it especially easy for the primordial spirit and
physical form to separate,” the other replied, completely placid. My soul
had just entered Spirit Concentration Realm when it entered the Spirit-
Collection Jade, and my primordial spirit was cultivated within it, so it
intangibly regarded the jade as its body. Since it wasn’t my natural one,
though, there was always some area that was incompatible with my soul. I
had to use the cold of the ice pool to break apart, then wear in my corporeal
body and primordial spirit , again and again… to use an analogy, it was like
woodworking. Material needs to be continuously cut and worn down before
things can join together snugly.”
Others said that he was wooden, and he himself actually saw himself as a
chunk of wood that could be scoured and whittled away as seen fit — how
painful it had to have been, for his primordial spirit and the Jade to grind
each other down. Yan Zhengming felt like his heart was being torn apart
after thinking about this for but a moment, grasping the other’s ice-cold
hand and saying nothing.

Cheng Qian kept going without a care. “That’s why I’m guessing that Tang
Zhen had to have been here before, else he wouldn’t have thought of using
ice pools to forge… what is this?”

As he was talking, Shuang Ren’s tip suddenly bumped into something,

making a light ding.

“Watch out. Don’t be reckless with where you step,” Yan Zhengming said,
after which he brought out another night pearl. The objects were big and
round-looking, each and every one of them with enough value to buy a
whole city, yet he didn’t hesitate to scoop them out by the handful like
candied beans.

The pearl was like a messed-up candle flame being blown by wind. The
instant it came out of the Bag of Hoarding, it flickered like its life was at
stake, then rapidly began to dim. But, it managed to illuminate the ground
at their feet, at the very least.

By the faint light, Cheng Qian saw that what he had just run into was a
human skeleton, which neither of them had swept over with their spiritual
consciousness. It was too similar to an ice sculpture, able to completely
blend in with the ice walls surrounding it, as if it had been growing there for
all time.

Right when he had crouched down and reached out to touch it, his hand got
smacked away by Yan Zhengming, who then pasted a handkerchief onto
him.

“…”
He reluctantly took it, thinking that there had to be hundreds or even
thousands of handkerchiefs pre-prepared in this guy’s bag, for them to be
able to hold up against his ruination.

“Are they actual human bones?” Yan Zhengming asked.

“They should be.” An ominous premonition suddenly rising within him,

Cheng Qian’s heart started jumping wildly for no real reason. He tried to
calm himself. “It’s been too long. They’re frozen solid.”

Yan Zhengming came in close to size it up. Noticing that there was a short
knife at the skeleton’s side, he had Cheng Qian break it off from the big, icy
lump, then shift away the frost on its handle. There was a familiar insignia
engraved on it.

“A Nightmare Traveler,” Cheng Qian provided. “I saw a lot of these

symbols when I went to Zhaoyang.”

Even further in, several similar skeletons laid all around on their backs. No
fatal wounds were visible on their bones, and the way there were laid out at
crooked, random angles made them look like a bunch of bamboo pols that
had gotten bowled over by heavy wind.

Very odd.

The slightly taut string in Cheng Qian’s heart pulled to its tightest.

“Strange,” Yan Zhengming whispered. “Why would these demonic

cultivators not stay nicely in Nanjiang, but run all the way here to meet their
fates?”

“Don’t talk. Be cautious.”

As soon as he said that last word, a sudden scream came from the
previously dark and deathly silent depths of the Site, like a sharp knife
sticking straight into one’s eardrums. He only sensed a buzzing in both of
his ears, as if someone had punched him hard on the temple, and like his
three hun and seven po were quickly going to be shaken loose.
The world spun for a spell. He was nearly unable to stand. Before he could
react properly, a gust of astral wind rose up from flat ground without
warning.

Yan Zhengming fetched him back, turned around at flying speed, then
protected him behind himself.

“Senior, you…”

The other quickly drew in a breath, injured somewhere unknown. “I’m fine.
My original packing is overall more durable than the one you broke into
later — go, quick!”

The two retreated back down the road in a sorry state. As if his soul hadn’t
yet returned to its spot, Cheng Qian’s sight was nearly blurred; he
subconsciously supported himself against the wall, only for it to not feel
right under his hand. Slightly laboriously, he looked over at it using the
unknown amount of night pearls in Yan Zhenming’s hand, and came to be
directly opposite of a pale, dead face.

“…”

He almost shoved out with a palm to smack his counterpart into bits.

Yan Zhengming shot out one night pearl, adding force to it. The pearl let
out a miserable shriek, unable to withstand the true essence of a sword
cultivator, and promptly exploded into a flying puff in midair.

The entire space around them instantly lit up. Apart from the skeletons, the
area filled all around with floating ‘people’ of various appearances, all sorts
of men, women, youths, and elders therein, each one pale-faced and lifeless.
They were kept in poses of being directly frozen in midair, feet dangling,
the spitting image of a group of silent, hanged ghosts.

In spite of Cheng Qian’s bravery, he couldn’t help but suck in a cold breath.
For a moment, the roiling in his chest got even more uncomfortable. It
wasn’t until the burst night pearl faded out again that he whispered,
“Ghosts…”
This place was so awfully cold, that in addition to the physical body, it
could freeze one’s true essence, and even soul.

“The Soul-Devouring Lamp was here before,” he said. “It got hit by a
strong wind, and all the ghosts inside it got blown out, all of which became
frozen here before they could flee… where is the Lamp?”

As a qualified, wealthy landlord, after Yan Zhengming released him a little,

he brightened the place up again. “Look.”

A skeleton was in the corner. Once the frost covering it was lightly swept
off, a fiery red feather was seen stuck between two ice-encased ribs, looking
especially eye-catching amongst the ice.

“Do you think that’s Tang Zhen?” Yan Zhengming asked.

Was it?

A cultivator that had not yet entered Primordial Spirit Realm had suffered
untold trials to come to the Sea of Beiming and find the Da Xue Mystic
Site, or, for some unknown reason, had entered it alongside these demonic
cultivators, or had simply found the hole they left behind and felt his way
along, then just-so-happened to encounter the Lamp in this place, just-so-
happened to get injured and die by that astral wind, yet his soul had entered
the Lamp by mistake…

But, a hundred years ago, the Tang Zhen that Han Yuan and he had
encountered on the coast of the East Sea… was that not a primordial spirit?

A scary hunch arose in Cheng Qian’s mind. At the same exact time, the
rumbling in his ears got louder and louder — they were temporarily apart
from the astral wind, but its side-effects remained. He almost couldn’t stay
standing, gently leaning his side against the ice wall, doing all he could to
press his forehead against its surface, and resisting the groan that nearly
slipped from his mouth. The upheaval of his soul was too painful, almost as
much as the severance of his primordial spirit from when he refined the
wooden sword.
His temples were quickly soaked, either because of cold sweat, or melting
ice.

While they fell into an ice cave on their end, the group that had already
speedily gotten to Shuzong were instead feeling a bit toasty.

Shuzhong had many mountains. Upon coming here, the White Tiger Estate
disciples responsible for opening up the path were always involuntarily on-
edge, because the layers of these forests were likely to hide arrays. Also,
since they were in the air, their opposers would be slightly more concealed,
and could set up an ambush without anyone knowing.

Nian Dada held an old book as he sat on a low-flying horse, carefully

studying every single word. All of a sudden, someone next to him casually
read the book’s title aloud. “Reincarnation Records…”

Nian Dada jumped in fright, the book almost flying out of his hands,
whereupon his limbs went into a scramble to catch it. Somewhat flustered,
he looked at Han Yuan, who had come over to him at some unknown point
in time. “F-Fourth uncle…”

There was no doubt about it; he was a little fearful of this moody man.

Han Yuan shot him a look, but didn’t make things hard for him. “Whose
reincarnation are you wanting to look for?” he asked placidly.

Nian Dada tried, with difficulty, to relax a little. “My father’s.”

“Ah. Where was he from?”

“Mingming Valley…” After blurting that out, Nian Dada immediately

corrected himself. “That doesn’t seem right, actually. He used to be a
wandering cultivator of the East Sea. In his youth, he was lucky enough to
be selected for entry into Azure Dragon Island’s Lecture Hall, and when he
entered the Dao, he then roamed the world to practice on his own after… it
was only after a hundred years that he settled down in Mingming Valley,
and changed his name.”
“Azure Dragon Island…” Han Yuan said expressionless after hearing this.
“So, this level of chance fate can still be. I’ll give you a suggestion: when
you have the time, you should look in the vicinity of the East Sea. No need
to thank me.”

The legendary demonic dragon, who had nearly stabbed a hole through the
sky, speaking so calmly to him stunned Nian Dada for a minute. “O…
okay?” he stammered.

“Primordial spirit reincarnations are generally like this. The soul returns to
its hometown or whatever… it’s useless, though. Humans in reincarnation
get their cultivation and memories emptied out, so they’ll have no idea who
they are, and will only barely manage to maintain the appearance and innate
personality they had in their previous lives.”

Nian Dada revealed a cautious hope on his face.

Han Yuan side-eyed him, sneering. “Don’t scramble to be happy right now.
Think about how you’re going to keep your own little life, first!”

Nian Dada was startled. The White Tiger Hall disciple leading the way in
front suddenly let out a shrill alarm; demonic qi was seen to shoot straight
into the sky in a distant forest, blocking their group’s way.

Han Yuan’s body appeared to swiftly switch owners, his entire person
appeared to have a terribly no-good charisma. Black qi overflowed from his
panlong robes, making that four-legged monster seem to be on the verge of
showing up at any time.

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing,” he said, red light flashing in those
slender eyes. “Those idiots think that I’ve already claimed Beiming, so they
want to step on my corpse and cause pandemonium.”

He laughed coldly. In the midst of Li Yun’s startled exclamation, he rose

suddenly, sweeping into sky like a tornado. “And they haven’t yet seen
what trash they are in the reflection of their own piss!”
 LY 101

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“Wait! Hold on, who’s coming?” Li Yun asked.

“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter! Get out of the way!”

Han Yuan was a demonic cultivator that had been stained with blood, in the
end, and it was hard to suppress the murderous nature of those that walked
the demonic path — once bloodied, the Great Dao was difficult to strive for.
He had been bound by the blood oath for so long that it had long been
suffocating him into unbalance. These people were completely struck with
the edge of his knife.

Han Yuan had entirely become a mad dog off his leash; how could his
‘weak and delicate’ second senior haul him back?

It was unclear how many traps were laid in the forests beneath, but the
neatly-arranged array was completed, weaving into a big net that covered
the sky, having specially waited here for them to walk into the trap. The big
net pressed down in the air, and the demonic dragon’s figure flashed out to
welcome it without any reserve; the two colliding made even the landscape
shudder, the clouds tremble, and all the fauna around startle.

There were many ordinary disciples of White Tiger Estate in this group that
couldn’t move as easily as the experts, nor could they control their panicked
flying horses on top of that, dodging unattractively about in the air like
headless flies.
“Land, land!” an Estate elder randomly ordered.

The sky instantly went dark, the encompassing net above their heads
flashing with sparks of demonic qi from time to time, which resembled
quick little lightning bolts. Han Yuan’s was thick-skinned, so letting the
sparks hit him a few times was nothing mentionable, but for the young
accompanying disciples, they were not so lucky. Swiped to the side by the
sparks as bystanders, they immediately dropped down from the sky with
bodies of scorched black.

Li Yun sighed. From a snap of his fingers, a white light shot up to the sky,
and he abandoned his horse to stand upon his flying sword with his hands
behind his back. “There are ambushes on the ground. Everyone, please
calm down, and don’t descend. Juniors of lower cultivation, draw back to
the middle, and concentrate on forming the Eight-Trigram Array above.”

“You’re right!” that same elder hurriedly say. “Don’t land! All of you come
up, quick!”

“…”

This elder had to have been chosen by the mighty Estate Lord Shang as a
joke.

Second Lord Li increasingly felt that he was bearing a heavy task, yet had
no choice in the matter, compelled to swallow the pill and awkwardly
instruct this big group of unfamiliar disciples in constructing the array to
withstand the big net in the sky.

All of a sudden, the hairs on his back stood up all at once. Believing in his
own intuition without a thought, he threw out a charm from his sleeve; the
tiny wooden tablet was seen to rise up in the air and suddenly expand,
forming a protective barrier of vibrant lights.

As soon as the charm came out, he had regretted it. Yan Zhengming had
gotten it off of the black market, and the reason he had never been willing
to pawn it was because it had purportedly switched hands from Tong Ru.
Before he had time to be in pain, he heard a burst of sky-splitting thunder.

An Estate disciple of meager cultivation bled from all seven orifices at

once, then fell straight off of the back of his flying horse.

Back in the day, beside Vermillion Bird Tower, Shui Keng’s yao skeleton
separating hadn’t given off such loud thunder. Li Yun was terrified, sensing
that this heavenly tribulation was specifically coming for Han Yuan.

Immediately following this, the sound of rending silk burst through the air.
The protective barrier of the charm couldn’t withstand this, slowly tearing
down the middle annihilated in no time flat.

The priceless wooden tablet split right in half, then fell right down.

Han Yuan whirled and landed upon a sword that had lost its owner in the
chaos, traces of the black dragon looming upon his face. The oath mark on
the back of his hand was as red as blood. He looked up at the big net with a
malicious expression.

That heavenly tribulation had been none other than the backlash of the oath.

Several lines of demonic qi rushed out of the forest — it was demonic

cultivators that had made the stumbling blocks here, and they surrounded
him.

What was odd was that there were several ordinary cultivators mixed in
with them, each one having expressions of hatred. One of them even
shouted, “Nefarious devil! Before the Ten-Party Array, those vile, spineless
people were forced by your sect backer, so we didn’t dare to do anything to
you, but we’ll be taking our revenge, now!”

As a representative of that ‘sect backer’, Li Yun felt like someone had

affixed a shit platter to his head. He had no idea what to even say.

Han Yuan looked at the guy indifferently. “Oh, so in order to get rid of the
nefarious devil that is me, you all have joined forces with a big group of
devils that has done no less evil than I have? You all are really flexible. It’s
really admirable.”

Li Yun’s anger was dissolved at hearing this, and he smiled. “The biggest
thing he has in common with his heart demon form and this greatness is that
smart mouth.”

The smart-mouthed Han Yuan completely enraged the cultivators that were
suddenly mingling with demonic cultivators. With paired looks in their
eyes, they attacked as a group, simultaneously drawing in on Han Yuan
with weapons drawn under the protection of the big net overhead.

They were of the righteous path, and didn’t massacre, nor violate taboo.
Their methods were low-class, but there was nothing inexcusable about
taking revenge. With the blood oath, Han Yuan could only get beaten, else
if he dared to retaliate and injure them, it might bring on another that giant
tribulation that even the preceding Lord Beiming wouldn’t have been able
to defend against.

Han Yuan knit his brows, gathered up his sleeves and moved his body to
dodged, then roared at the one behind him without turning his head, “Li
Yun, what are you doing, idiot? Watching the excitement?!”

Li Yun expressionlessly folded his arms in front of his chest. “The biggest
difference between the heart demon and this greatness is that the demon is
really fucking worthless.”

As Shui Keng listened from the side, she was filled with indignation. “Hey,
second brother! Are you waning before you’re even old? Why are you
talking so much trash?! Tell us how we’re going to fight this!”

…This sect just was not compatible.

Li Yun drew out the ornament-like sword on his waist, then raised his voice
to the elder. “Please stop these few, fellow Daoists of White Tiger Estate!
Shui Keng, use True Fire of Samadbi to break open this net to make an
escape route for the massive cuck that is your fourth brother. If I’m not
mistaken, the eye of the array is outside, at kun position!”
Shui Keng immediately transformed into a Red Crane and whirred away.
The tiny sparks on the demonic net were a complete disgrace in comparison
to the True Fire, and she quickly tore open a hole in it.

Nian Dada hurriedly came in close. “Second uncle, what about me?”

With a flip of his fingers, Li Yun took out a big sheet of paper from his
cuffs somehow, then tapped it. It shattered into millions of pieces and
scattered in the wind, transforming into bugs of all sizes. It could really give
one goosebumps.

The bugs descended from the skies, sank into the forest vegetation, and
vanished in the blink of an eye. He tossed a small bottle to Nian Dada. “The
bottom of that bottle can be use to see through the eyes of those insects.
Keep watch on it for me. I’m getting the feeling that this won’t be so
simple.”

Nian Dada hurriedly rubbed the goosebumps off of himself as he held the
small bottle in his hands. As he attempted rapidly read through the ground’s
live situation via countless fragmentary images, he strenuously learned the
hardship of having too many eyes and limbs.

The Estate had the elder to command it, and the disciples were barely able
to get organized. After coming back to themselves, they quickly swarmed
up and intercepted those water-muddying righteous cultivators on Han
Yuan’s behalf. Both sides fought and berated each other; following the
elder’s lead, they had first elegantly sent regards to their counterpart’s sect,
and after the fighting had turned white-hot, they started to hostilely send
regards to each other’s long-buried parents.

Seeing they were mutually holding each other up, Han Yuan easily passed
through the circle of cultivators, turned into a puff of black mist, then went
through the hole Shui Keng had made, following which he reached out his
hand, then mysteriously and grabbed the array’s in the Southwest
orientation, from very far away.

The entire Shu road appeared to be getting hauled off of the mountain by
him, and the huge net burst open in the sky.
Those several demonic cultivators that had just been talking big saw that
this was not a great situation, immediately thinking to flee. A drawn-out,
tyrannical dragon’s roar sounded through the air, rolling, dark clouds of
bloody qi permeating all around thereafter — in a split second’s time, eight
expressionless Han Yuans showed up in every direction. “Where are you all
going?” they said at the same time.

Shui Keng was dumbstruck seeing this. Feeling as if she had found a new
direction in like, she turned into human form, then said thoughtfully, “I now
understand what the eldest meant when he said that the Great Dao had three
thousands paths that lead to the same destination.”

Li Yun believed that she had reached enlightenment, but before he had time
to be gratified, he heard his junior sister proclaim with feeling: “It turns out
that apart from the completely unreliable Ninth Chain, all paths can be this
powerful!”

“…”

This senior really couldn’t do this anymore.

Suddenly, Nian Dada let out an ah from nearby.

“What are you spooked for?” Li Yun asked, unhappy.

“Second uncle, a group of people… no, that’s not right, ghosts just came up
from the ground, and are crawling faster than the wind!”

Li Yun’s nerves tenses up hearing the word ‘ghosts’, pupils constricting.

Making a sweeping motion, the countless crawling bugs he had only just
scattered into the soil each leapt up, then successively exploded in the air,
burning into balls of flames of different sizes that cleared away the cloud
layers and remnant black fog from the demonic cultivators that was under
everyone’s feet. The ground’s abnormality was revealed right before their
eyes.

An Estate elder’s scalp prickled. “The Soul-Devouring Lamp!”

Li Yun looked grave, shooting a look at Han Yuan from a distance. Why
such a coincidence?

Yet, he now had no free time to mull over this. The thick black clouds that
had been billowing on the ground swept up into the blue sky, eerie and
rancid deathly qi hitting the face as the landscape went dark.

Nian Dada couldn’t help but think back to that mountain cave from the first
time he had left Mingming Valley to follow Cheng Qian, instinctively
getting an indescribable shiver.

Amongst the ground’s dancing ghosts, a familiar figure suddenly stuck out
— Jiang Peng.

Over a hundred years ago, Li Yun and rest had seen him for the first time at
the East Sea. He had no longer been human-like then, but now, after so
many years had passed, his form was even more shocking.

From the waist down, he was completely hidden by billowing black smoke,
making it look like he had no lower half at all, floating in midair. For a
second, it was hard to tell whether he was a ghost cultivator, or just a ghost,
as his cheeks were as thin as the living dead, the large splotches of shadows
on his face unable to be driven away, even in midday sunlight.

He sized up the crowd in the air, then grinned toothily. Locking his gaze
onto Han Yuan, he licked his lips, the voice that came out of them rough.
“Beiming…”

The aggrieved Han Yuan powerlessly took back all of his body doubles.
“Didn’t you say that he was broken into fragments by the previous Lord
Beiming a century ago?” the heart demon form asked himself. “Why did he
piss himself in fear for all that time, and now can’t even tell whether I’m the
real Beiming or not when he got back?”

With that, his expression abruptly changed, speech getting turned into the
real Han Yuan’s. “The last I saw him, he seemed to still be able to recognize
people, and wasn’t so awfully mad… is he really the owner of the Soul-
Devouring Lamp? Why does it look like he’s about to be no different than
those ghosts, to me?”

“Hmph. Really, as long as this Lord shows my face, it’s no effort at all to
find these morons,” the demon answered. “They’ll all just come right to the
door themselves, looking for a fight. Might as well catch them all in one
net.”

Han Yuan rapidly switched back, looking stern. “How about you boast less.
You really think that anyone is praising you as being entitled to call yourself
Beiming? That’s my Master’s senior brother, and he dared to go nuts
kidnapping in the vicinity of Azure Dragon Island before I even entered the
sect. It’s not a certainty who would sort who out.”

The Estate elder happened to hear this entire ridiculous thread of him
talking to himself, and he couldn’t help but feel sorrow come up inside him,
feeling that his life could be forfeited right now — the two biggest demons
of the past century were meeting on this narrow road, one a lunatic, and the
other… also a lunatic.

Now, countless whispering noises came up from the ground, as if thousands

of ghosts were speaking to each other, making any human ears hearing it
shiver. The huge mirage of an oil lamp raised into the air. Resentful energy
swooshed up, whirling into a hurricane, innumerable human faces shown to
pile up together in the rotations. This scalp-numbing tornado imperviously
charged at the stunned cultivators in the sky. In the vivacious Shuzhong
forest, all the plants and animals swept up by the black mist withered to
nothing as the insatiable ghosts absorbed all life force.

Nian Dada couldn’t believe whatsoever that this guy had once been that
filthy and pathetic demonic cultivator that had been half-dead near
Mingming Valley and adhered himself to Liu Lang.

Jiang Peng had recovered… no, he was even stronger than he had been a
hundred years ago!

A crackling firecracker set off in Han Yuan’s mouth, but he didn’t dare to
be careless. Hands horizontal across his chest, a heavy, dragon-etched
sword slowly emerged from his palm. The ghost cultivators on the ground
and demonic cultivators in the sky swapped gazes from a distance, then
moved at the same exact time.

Jiang Peng appeared to be provoked by Han Yuan’s sword, and used a

ghastly bone he held in hand for a sword technique.

These two had been taught from the same sect, and in this occasion, they
coincidentally both used Fuyao Wooden Sword to confront each other. The
technique that had once been honest and peaceful once again expressed its
erratic side; sustaining vast demonic qi, without any sort of indisposition at
all, it developed a demonic path version of itself all on its own.

Li Yun slapped the back of Nian Dada’s head. “Why aren’t you getting out
of the way? You want to die?”

While he spoke, the earth and sky were already wholly covered by
rampaging demonic qi. No matter what side one was on, they all ignored
the fighting to step aside, not daring to interfere in the mighty battle of two
devils.

However, a bold one yet came — the swishing sound of a sharp sword
being unsheathed was heard from not far away, and then extremely bright
swordlight obliquely slashed over, coming to flagrantly get between the two
devils.

A sword of the primordial spirit!

Li Yun looked elated at first, thinking that Yan Zhengming had hurried back
early, only to be shocked soon after — that wasn’t right. This sword
cultivator had a primordial spirit, but he was not on the same level as their
eldest, where he had entered the second layer of Sword Spirit Realm.

Upon another look, the newcomer was You Liang of the Celestial
Divination Bureau.

His sword collided with the bone Jiang Peng held, and the power of the
charms on the sword’s body abruptly rose. Like a newborn calf not afraid of
a tiger, it pounced at the ghostly qi lingering about the bone with a sharp
hiss; the qi was like a flame meeting a great wind, jerking around a bit for a
moment, then counterattacking tenfold.

Han Yuan’s sword held Jiang Peng’s qi back while he also smacked You
Liang away. “Don’t go looking for death right under my nose,” he coldly
said. “You’ll burden me with divine tribulations! Scram!”

You Liang’s sword was already visibly infected with black qi. His
complexion immediately paled, but his expression remain calmed as he
spoke as quickly as he could. “Senior, I’ve come to deliver a message:
Black Tortoise Hall, headed by Bian Xu, has congregated a group of
cultivators that has deep enmity with you, and intends to put you to death.
These people are just a pretense; they have a follow-up move. I don’t know
how they found out your route, but a friend of mine is now doing his best to
stall time for you. You’d best leave, now!”

During those few sentences, Han Yuan and Jiang Pen had already had more
than a hundred exchanges. Both of their faces were emitting black qi. They
met force with force, neither willing to be roundabout, and both heavily
injured by their respective counterpart. Neither heard You Liang’s words.

The two madmen didn’t, but Li Yun wasn’t deaf. His thought rapidly
whirled — as a sword cultivator of solitary nature, You Liang’s alleged
‘friend’ was, at most, a member of the Bureau. The Bureau had suffered
heavy losses and fallen apart, so who still had the spare time to care about
them?

It had to be Zhe Shi!

Shui Keng had a very rare moment of quick reaction. She had always had
the responsibility of exchanging messages with Zhe Shi, so she naturally
had communication tools; hearing this, she quickly took out a gray
sparrow’s feather, and in no more than a few moment, one end of the
feature lost its vitality, dimming down.

“It really is Brother Zhe Shi!”

“Han Yuan, stop!” Li Yun shouted.

Han Yuan didn’t seem to hear… or, he had heard it, but this situation no
longer tolerated him deciding to stop.

A paper bug that had jumped the furthest away was now faithfully feeding
back information that it saw to Li Yun. Looking into the distance using its
eyes, he got goosebumps all over his body — less than five li away, a
massive array, using an unknown amount of peoples’ true essences to
operate it, was in the middle of spreading out, and slowly closing up!

Li Yun grit his teeth and pulled the wooden hairpin off of his head, which
transformed into a sword.

Were it not a last resort, he never would have wanted to use this thing. Yan
Zhengming had left it for him to save his own life with, one of his own
primordial spirit swords sealed within.

As soon as Li Yun used the wooden hairpin-slash-sword, Yan Zhengmign

immediately felt it on his end.

However, he had no time to care about him right now, as Cheng Qian had
just collapsed in front of him without any warning at all. As if enduring
unbelievable pain, his hand that clenched Shuang Ren inadvertently pressed
against its edge; in this dim light, Yan Zhengming hadn’t realized that the
other had unwittingly cut himself until he smelled the stink of blood.

Shuang Ren madly sucked in its master’s blood, so excited, it vaguely had
the intent to backlash.

“Xiao Qian! Xiao Qian!”

“Tang Zhen… he… is the primordial spirit cultivated from the Soul-
Devouring Lamp…” Cheng Qian squeezed out from between his teeth,
bearing with the sharp pain.

The whole sequence of events had quickly linked up in his mind — Tang
Zhen, who’d had low cultivation back then, had probably done the same as
them. Upon arriving at the center of the Sea of Beiming, he had followed
the passage that these demonic cultivators had opened up in the Da Xue
Mystic Site, but before he could find the Golden Lotus Leaf, he had been
struck by the astral wind, his soul separating from its body.

He should have died with his soul flown off like those demonic cultivators
had, but, both fortunately and unfortunately, his soul happened to get blown
into the Lamp.

A masterless Soul-Devouring Lamp, whose ghosts had all dissipated.

Such a coincidence was akin to a blind turtle floating up into a cave. Just
like how Cheng Qian’s soul had entered the Spirit-Collection Jade in the
split second he was dying, Tang Zhen had received this divine chance to
survive, if with difficulty.

One did not need to think to know that with the Lamp being a greatly evil
object, while the Jade had been a spiritual object for helping human
cultivation, Tang Zhen had to have suffered a thousand times more than
Cheng Qian had inside of it…

Yet, he hadn’t had a choice. Either he had to refine the Lamp, or it would
completely consume him.

In the end, Tang Zhen had won. He had cultivated his primordial spirit,
becoming the Lamp itself.

But, this form was doubtlessly incomplete, because something as evil as the
Lamp had been tainted by who-knew-how-much karmic sin since its
creation. Had he completely refined it into a corporeal body, he would
presumably not incur divine tribulations, but divine wrath.

As soon as the Heavens got angry, it could have chopped this Site into
firewood. It There was no way a living thing could have withstood it.

Unless…
Cheng Qian’s voice was barely audible as he muttered seeming nonsense to
himself. “Why did those demonic cultivators come here…?”

Legends told that the Golden Lotus Leaf of Da Xue could wash away all the
sins of the human world. Could it also have washed away those of the
Lamp? Could it have been washed so thoroughly clean, that it became an
ordinary spiritual object… just like the Spirit-Collection Jade?

Cheng Qian couldn’t help but think deeply about that layer of it. Had Tang
Zhen actually been powerless against the little bird yao and their charm, and
thus had fled?

It was only a puppet charm. Tang Zhen would have had a hundred different
ways to surpass it.

He hadn’t feared that he would hear the precedent, then take his old path to
the Site to investigate the Lamp’s trail?

Or… had Tang Zhen intentionally wanted him to come here?

Cheng Qian felt cold all over. All sorts of thought flashed rapidly by him.
Before he could open his mouth, Hear the Universe suddenly brightened
within his inner sanctum, and his entire spiritual consciousness got dragged
in by it — he saw that the jade appeared to have been provoked, as it
harshly illuminated his inner sanctum. His injured primordial spirit could
barely open its eyes in there.

His consciousness was so outrageously sensitive, it even faintly implicated

the tiny section that had been sealed inside Yan Zhengming’s wooden
sword. He felt like he was being split into two… no, three.

All of his memories were spread out by some unknown outer force, from
Fuyao Mountain to Azure Dragon Island, page by page, regardless of detail.
Then, those scenes seemed to get randomly tampered with by a hand, and
the sect siblings that depended on each other for survival changed into
repulsive-looking arch-nemeses, all of their warmth morphed into bone-
chilling hatred.
On one hand, he was maintaining his sanity beneath Hear the Universe’s
glaring brilliance, able to clearly distinguish what was reality and what was
an illusion, but on the other, he couldn’t suppress the hate that seeming to
be coming from the bottom of his heart.

At the same time, it was like he had a third eye, which was looking back
anxiously from inside the wooden sword.

There was a voice repeating inside of his spiritual consciousness. “Kill

him… kill him…”

This was… soul-painting!

Back when Tang Zhen had returned his memories, soul-painting had been
inside them.

He was both clear-headed, yet hardly able to withstand the murderousness

welling up in his heart; he couldn’t feel Shuang Ren slicing his palm at all.

Shang Wan’nian hadn’t actually set a trap for him. In normal circumstances,
Hear the Universe could indeed have helped him resist soul-painting, to say
nothing of the fact that a small piece of his primordial spirit was in Yan
Zhengming’s wooden sword, which couldn’t be affected. Yet, he just had to
come across nefarious wind that could break the soul here…

He no longer had the time to think about whether this was just a
coincidence, or something someone had deliberately set up.

The translator says: I just want y’all to know that ‘massive cuck’ was not an exaggeration. ‘活王八’ = ‘living tortoise’, where
‘living’ is a term of emphasis, and ‘tortoise’ is slang for ‘cuckold’.
 LY 102

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The wooden sword bearing a piece of Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit

shuddered violently. Yan Zhengming held it with boundless bewilderment,
sensing the painful resonance between it and the one that refined it.

He wasn’t sure what was going on with Cheng Qian, but made a quick
decision. “I’ll take you away from here before anything else, and then we
can talk about anything needed.”

Then, he reached out to hold him, only for Cheng Qian to instinctively lift
his head and shoot a palm at him.

Murderous qi now overflowed everywhere. As soon as this strike was

made, Cheng Qian was immediately terrified, quickly taking back all of the
frigid true essence that was surging into his palm. As a result, the high-
lifted palm gently fell, lightly waving Yan Zhengming away with extreme
restraint, yet didn’t injure him in the slightest.

Heavy true essence having left and come back, the force of the backlash
shook half of Cheng Qian’s body numb. He choked out a mouthful of blood
at once that dyed his own lapels red, his chaotic consciousness temporarily
incited into soberness by the pain.

“What are you doing?!” Yan Zhengming asked in horror.

Cheng Qian ignored him. First of all, that would be a long story, and second
of all, he himself wasn’t too clear on it, plus really didn’t have the strength
to explain.

Yet, he also knew well that if he said some nonsense to Yan Zhengming to
make him leave, the other would not only not listen, but get even more
nervous and come in close. Hence was why Cheng Qian had to silently
push him away, biting the tip of his own tongue until he was clear-headed
from the pain inside his bloody-tasting mouth. He simply and efficiently
popped his limbs out of their joints, then seized this time to concentrate on
his inner sanctum, draw all of his true essence into his qi sea — regardless
of how turbulent said essence was — and focused in on colliding it against
the seal Shang Wan’nian had left in his primordial spirit.

Prior to his death, Shang Wan’nian had been worried that his damaged
primordial spirit would not be able to handle Hear the Universe’s
inheritance and sealed it up, only to be unsealed on its own if his spirit was
fully repaired. He couldn’t give that much consideration to that now,
though; he was burning to release Hear the Universe, wanting to use its help
to get rid of the soul-painting Tang Zhen had placed upon him.

As for whether he could endure that brutal inheritance, he wasn’t

considering that at all.

When factors permitted, he would always be dependable in conduct. When

he was truly forced to dire straits, he would believe that there was nothing
he couldn’t do.

Yan Zhengming felt that the encompassing child was momentarily going
towards Cheng Qian, making him shiver with the cold when it brushed by
him, and then that a tiny, ear-shaped mark was shining between his brows.

Inside this Site, encountered lamps were blown out, encountered wicks
drawn out, not a trace of light tolerated at all — and yet, that radiant sigil
wasn’t affected in the slightest, brightening and brightening until he could
clearly see the bloodstains upon Cheng Qian’s pale lips, and the hovering
black qi between his brows.

He couldn’t fathom what was happening here, too afraid to step forward. By
his intuition, this appeared to be some sort of mysterious inheritance, but
the time and place was wrong.

Moreover, what kind of inheritance would make him self-harm?

Yan Zhengming had never heard of one before. He also didn’t know if
interrupting an inheritance partway through would do something to Cheng
Qian.

Since he would never dare to risk him, Yan Zhengming could only take the
wooden sword back into his inner sanctum, using the force of his own
primordial spirit to repeatedly sooth the trembling weapon.

The wooden sword was his origin sword, after all. Over time, he had come
to feel a weak resonance inside it, like he was hearing a distant, faint bell.

He was not allowed to think more on that before he suddenly felt the Site
beneath him begin to shake, the sound of raging waves heard through the
partition of the thick ice.

The waters of Beiming outside were resonating with whatever was between
Cheng Qian’s brows!

Yan Zhengming put on the utmost of guard, his entire body practically
tensing up into a sword itself. Just the seawater resonating is fine, but there
can’t be—

The second he had that thought, he heard sharp wind sound through the Site
once more — that bizarre gale returned in a whirl without any sort of
warning. This time, it actually bypassed the skeletons in front of them to
exactingly give chase!

He pretty much wanted to laugh in pain. For the first time, he was learning
that he, too, had a misfortune-spewing crow’s beak.

Even though sword cultivators couldn’t be said to be made of metal, their

bodies were forged the year round, and were certainly not made of clay.
Ordinary swords couldn’t hurt him at all, but with a mere sweep of that
wind, several half-chi long wounds had been left behind on him, making his
back feel wave after wave of sweeping, unbearable pain even now.

Taking a deep look at the completely out-of-it Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming
called the wooden sword out and held it in hand. All his primordial spirit
swords lined up in a row beside him, the entire boundary of ‘Enter the
Sheath’ opening, creating a sword realm within the Mystic Site.

The Site was rocked by the vicious inheritance of Hear the Universe. As if
it was discovering the intruder after the fact, the astral wind that had only
just swept in front of them pounced right for Cheng Qian.

Yan Zhengming swiftly used the spirit swords to weave an expansive net of
them. With a low shout, he refused to yield one minor step, about to firmly
isolate the mountain of snow’s anger to the outside.

The sword realm and astral wind collided on a narrow path. In an instant,
millions of rays burst apart, the sharp weapons that cut iron like it was clay
now continuously bent and broken within the strong and angry gust. Just
one exchange, and the sword realm was instantly half-trampled flat.

Cold light reflected on the walls, bright candles dimmed. The sound of
metal and rock was endless in the ears. Yan Zhengming’s long hair had
been completely blown loose by the leaked wind, and his long robes were
moving erratically, getting a few new tears made in them every once in a
while, which made them nearly ragged after not that long.

Then, he shut his eyes lightly, allowing the swordwill of Fuyao Wooden
Sword tirelessly surge into his hands.

He had once believed that after Cheng Qian died before, he would not have
been able to open the mountain-sealing order in any capacity. He had
thought that there would come a day where he could use his own power to
suppress the spiritual consciousnesses of Sect Leaders past in the Sect
Leader Seal, then forcefully circumvent the order to make Fuyao Mountain
reappear in the human world.
In front of him at this moment was the entire treacherous Mystic Site deep
in Beiming, while he held a wooden sword, as motionless as a mountain…

With how much of a life-cherishing person I am, why am I always running

into death-seeking things?

The skill of ‘Enter the Sheath’ was more reserved in edge, yet also more
drawn-out.

And those that were violent would not be for long.

He alone began to endlessly exchange back-and-forth with the Site. Not a

trace of sword qi was seen around his body, as it was rushing from his inner
sanctum and into the sword realm non-stop.

Constantly blown down by the overbearing wind, then constantly standing

back up again.

There were no days, nor nights in this mountain of snow. He had no idea
how long he had been holding on, himself. A long-missed ache gradually
emerged in all of his meridians, like sticking needles; this meant that his
internal true essence was about to be exhausted.

He hadn’t experienced this feeling of running out of power for who-knew-

how long, and couldn’t help but turn back to look at Cheng Qian. The
other’s face was as pale as paper, yet he seemed to be able to draw infinite
strength from it.

All of a sudden, he felt quite strange. He had been under the impression that
with his own fearful nature that feared any sort of pain and suffering, he
absolutely would not have been able to persevere when his wick was about
to go out, bound to tidy up his appearance, sit down, and wait to die upon
encountering something like this — but, once Cheng Qian was near him,
everything changed.

Cheng Qian could transform him from a ‘delicate’ crisp to a worn rag that
could never be wrung dry. Even if it didn’t look pretty, once twisted hard, it
could always hold up for a little while.
The needly pain gradually spread all over him. His limbs seemed like they
were getting torn off in a stern warning to him from his baked-dry meridian.
Ignoring it wholly, he abruptly withdrew his full-body barrier, and then all
his spirit swords rose up high. In a second, his inner sanctum was entirely
emptied, a rumbling in his ears — and then he pushed out the swords with a
palm!

The spirit swords changed into swordwill on the spot. There was no place
they did not go, counter-attacking like they were going to topple the
mountain and overturn the sea, a howl going through the air that was close
to the roar of a beast. The astral wind of the Site was legitimately shoved
backwards by him.

Entire body swaying, he actually began to seep blood. He struck his sword
against the ground to forcibly stand, but the look in his eyes was already
dulled, and he unconsciously mumbled, “Xiao Qian…”

His inability to protect the young Cheng Qian had always been his lifelong
regret. Owing to the passage of time, the other had become so powerful, he
didn’t need him at all; only the surplus dread from the past dimly
entrenched his heart, forever impossible to shake off.

A smil of unclear meaning showed at the corner of his mouth, and then he
fainted while standing up.

The wooden sword left his hand, but didn’t fall. Its tip pointed down as it
hung in midair, the utmost of loyal to its duty as it defended his front.

However, after waiting for a minute, an even stronger counterattack did not
come. The astral wind had somehow been broken up by the swordwill,
meandering back into Da Xue’s depths.

Cheng Qian’s overwrought spiritual consciousness within the wooden

sword sighed in relief. What he felt right now defied description; all of his
consciousness was split into two parts, one half in his body, and the other in
this sword. It was like he had two brains deliberating at the exact same
time, even interfering with each other. He was now experiencing Han
Yuan’s own feelings, whether it was from the soul-painting, or the
strangeness of being divided into two.

The consciousness in his body was desperately resisting the influence of

soul-painting, and maintaining his final piece of rationality before he could
open Hear the Universe’s seal. The consciousness in the sword was instead
defending Yan Zhengming, and reflecting upon the events within the noisy
disturbance of that soul-painting.

Seeing that the astral wind had withdraw, Cheng Qian had a brief bit of
respite, though the suspicions inside of him floated upwards — what
meaning was there behind soul-painting’s suggestion?

What reason did Tang Zhen have to try to make him kill Yan Zhengming?

If Tang Zhen was said to have done this to incite the world into chaos, then
he probably would have wanted to get rid of Han Yuan, Shang Wan’nian,
and the others, but there was no way he hadn’t figured out Yan Zhengming.
The total of sore spots on their Sect Leader’s body could be counted on one
hand, so as long as no one bumped into him, he could peacefully remain on
Fuyao Mountain for a lifetime, never taking the initiative to go looking for
trouble.

What sense was there in Tang Zhen provoking such a fierce and almighty
sword cultivator for no reason, and also taking such great troubles to
swindle him into the Da Xue Mystic Site?

Even if Tang Zhen was actually insane and just had to use him to get at Yan
Zhengming’s life, why hadn’t he just done it while on the Mountain, where
they had had so many times in both the day and night where guards were
down, and Yan Zhengming would have had absolutely no way to escape?
Why did it have to be here?

Having expected the danger that was at every step of the Site, and also
being unable to see a thing, the two of them had had very tense nerves ever
since they entered this place, making sneak attacks nearly impossible.
Why did Tang Zhen believe that as long as he attacked, Yan Zhengming
would be certain to die?

Cheng Qian was a cultivator with a primordial spirit that had undergone
seven lightning tribulations; he was far different from the low-cultivation,
easy-to-control Han Yuan from back in the day. Were he to find something
off about himself, he would definitely resist it. If Tang Zhen believed that
he was so scatterbrained that he could casually injure a Sword Spirit Realm
cultivator, then he was really viewing him too highly.

What was the use of Tang Zhen setting the soul-painting buried on him off
right now, other than to alert the enemy?

Yan Zhengming was only unconscious for a short bit before he woke. He
leaned against the wall in a sorry state, first sensing the disordered direction
of the wind in the Site, then snatching the opportunity to regulate his true
essence. Following a long period of slow breaths, he inclined his head to
look at the motionless Cheng Qian. “Not dead yet… hey… when are you
getting up and brushing my hair?”

The ear sigil between Cheng Qian’s brows seemed to get brighter as he
continued to pierce the increasingly teetering seal. That familiar cauterizing
sensation that seemed like it was going to burn him into a pile of ash once
again rushed into his internal organs, which inevitably affected his spiritual
consciousness that was active in the wooden sword, causing it to make a
soft hum.

Yan Zhengming tore his eyes off of Cheng Qian, then lifted his head to look
into Da Xue Mountain’s depths. With just one glance, some kind of
indescribable impulse arose in his mind, as if the Site had something inside
of it that had an unspeakably magnetic force to him, causing his heart to
jump like mad.

However, he did not move, hand slowly rubbing across the wooden sword.
“Strange. All of a sudden, it feels like you’ve just gotten out of the bath.”

Cheng Qian’s spiritual consciousness, currently doing all it could to

perceive Hear the Universe’s situation, had the misfortune of hearing this,
and nearly got jolted out by the wooden sword that was incessantly
shuddering.

Yan Zhengming stood up three paces away from Cheng Qian; both not
close enough to bother him, but also place him completely within his line of
sight. Like so, he appeared to be able to resist the inexplicable magnetism in
Da Xue’s depths.

He lighted licked his chapped lips, feeling that there there was not only
something off with himself, but even the entire Site had been excited by
something.

Suddenly, he blinked forcefully, only to see a ray of light pierce from deep
within the Site, looking like broken bits of pure gold in the darkness. The
was only one line, at first, and then it slowly unfurled, millions of golden
flowers blooming in that place most black.

A mysterious, secluded halo in this land of ice swayed to and fro, shining
all over the place like clear glints of light on waves, resembling an immortal
paradise in the human realm.

This scene was beyond description. Anyone who saw it would not be able
to resist drawing in a breath.

Yan Zhengming was struck mute for a long time. A guess suddenly flashed
past his mind — was that the Golden Lotus Leaf of Da Xue?

It actually existed?

The instant that golden light emerged, Cheng Qian felt that the soul-
painting in his inner sanctum could no longer be suppressed. Black qi
immediately invaded his sanctum, his weak primordial spirit nearly
drowned in it, where only the corner of it that Hear the Universe was in
remained holding up.

He, who had been unmoving with his eyes closed, abruptly opened them.
They were colder than when he normally used his techniques, nearly
bottomless.
Yan Zhengming finally snapped out of it. “You’re awake, dear ancestor?”

Cheng Qian paid him no heed, though, bones and joints issuing crisp
sounds as he then got up unsteadily, entire body covered in frost. His
movements were extremely stiff and unnatural, the blood-strained Shuang
Ren he held permeated with a murderous aura that wasn’t concealed in the
least.

At exactly this moment, the wooden sword in Yan Zhengming’s hand

suddenly shook off his control. Taking advantage of the other’s moment of
inattentiveness, Cheng Qian’s spiritual consciousness temporarily took
control over the sword, striking a band of sword qi at himself that had been
accumulated for a long time.

Yan Zhengming grabbed the wooden sword’s hilt, but it was still too late to
stop it. He helplessly watched as the sword qi embedded itself straight into
Cheng Qian’s body.

He knew, of course, that the wooden sword was haunted by a part of Cheng
Qian himself. “Cheng Qian, are you on the wrong meds?!” he yelled,
shocked and angry.

The other’s body swayed, seeming to know no pain. Frost formed up from
his neck to suffuse his face, blood already flowing down from the corner of
his mouth, and yet he was unaware, staring out in front of him with a
lifeless gaze. That blank-eyed look seemed exceptionally familiar…

Yan Zhengming’s back went cold — this was soul-painting!

Cheng Qian’s grip on Shuang Ren was slack, its tip dragging across the ice,
making a sound that hurt the teeth. Gait nearly a lurch, he walked, step by
step, over to Yan Zhengming.

Does he want to kill me?

That idea flitted past Yan Zhengming’s mind at flying speed, his entire body
going cold, from his head to the soles of his feet. He stood stock-still where
he was, in inner turmoil.
Then, a burst of golden light suddenly flickered out of the corner of his
eyes. His heart beat heavily — right, the Golden Lotus Leaf!

Regardless of who had harmed Cheng Qian, and when they had, as long as
he could get the Leaf, dealing with soul-painting would be nothing.

Embracing this notion, he tightly gripped the wooden sword, prevented

Cheng Qian from injuring himself with his sword qi, and flew for the light
source of the Leaf.

Cheng Qian’s consciousness in the sword immediately understood what he

was going to do. Senior! Stop!

Yet, no one could hear a sword’s words.

Tang Zhen had guided them here, using the astral wind inside to send his
soul into turmoil, which led to the soul-painting.

That guy was proficient in all sorts of soul-cursing techniques, so why had
he picked out soul-painting?

In the span of a spark, a guess suddenly arose in his mind — since Yan
Zhengming had once encountered true soul-painting at the East Sea, he
could recognize it. No one in the Fuyao Sect would forget it.

Tang Zhen had to know that Cheng Qian wouldn’t be able to kill Yan
Zhengming; he was just alarming him. If he was trapped by soul-painting,
what would Yan Zhengming’s first reaction be?

It didn’t need explanation. He would go for the Leaf.

In that moment, Cheng Qian’s sword-consciousness acutely fluctuated,

nearly affecting Yan Zhengming’s inner sanctum. The latter felt the familiar
consciousness, instinctively pausing.

Cheng Qian decisively drew his sword-consciousness back into his own
inner sanctum by force. Wrapped up in Enter the Sheath’s sword qi taken
from the wooden sword, it slashed open Hear the Universe’s seal.
The loosened seal fell apart in an instant. The spiritual object in his inner
sanctum flared brightly, as if it was going to burn all of his innards
black.That abominable, nefarious technique placed on the space between
his brows was swept away like a rotten leaf, the soul-painting eliminated in
an instant.

Immediately after that, an even harsher test arrived.

His body seeming like it was burning. The fine frost that had just formed on
him visibly melted away, soaking his hair and clothes through in the blink
of an eye. The senses of his primordial spirit and corporeal form were
disconnected, pretty much like how it was before his body made from the
Spirit-Collection Jade was formed, on that first time he had nearly been
hacked by a heavenly tribulation.

Losing control of his body, he limply collapsed.

The Site started trembling. Not caring that he hat been hit by soul-painting,
Yan Zhengming grabbed Cheng Qian’s hand and pulled him into his arms.
If he wants to kill me, then he can, he thought.

Yan Zhengming almost jolted from the burn Cheng Qian’s sweltering body
gave him, after which the astral wind that had vanished once against started
flying about at random, its sharp, blade-like edges crashing around the Site
like a wild horse off of its reins, going completely off the walls.

He held Cheng Qian tightly. At almost the exact same time, the Site
collapsed beneath their feet. Using his sword qi to attack and defend the
both of them, a protective barrier formed, engulfing them as they rolled
down together into the Site’s abyss.
 LY 103

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It was absolutely unknown how deep this Site went. Yan Zhengming’s
body-protecting sword qi was akin to a sand castle on the beach, getting
rebuilt countless times, then broken down countless times.

Was this actually the Da Xue Mystic Site?

Where were they heading to?

Were they to keep falling down like this, would they eventually end up
falling to the bottom of the Sea of Beiming?

He had thought that he had seen the Leaf giving off light, which would have
meant, that they were in the heart of the Site, but only now did he realize
that that golden light had a very strong penetrating power, spreading out all
over the place while the Golden Lotus itself was still thousands and
thousands of li away.

He got the misperception that the reason why all of Beiming was so dark
was because all the light was focused in on that Golden Lotus.

His defending sword qi crumbled once again, and he couldn’t muster the
strength to condense another one, forcing himself to withstand the astral
wind as he tightly guarded Cheng Qian in his arms.

He remembered what Cheng Qian had told to him in the Valley of No

Sorrow; legend told that in a place where there was no life nor death, their
Master and martial grandfather would remain together forever in, nothing
else around except for some minor ghosts that refused to stay for long.

Yan Zhengming had never told Cheng Qian about the indescribable bond
between those two, but he was secretly gratified about that conclusion.

If one could reunite with the soul of their beloved, what was a death by a
thousand cuts? What was a mangled body with crushed bones?

He gently rubbed the time of his nose against Cheng Qian’s neck, thinking
to himself, You’ve made me so mad in this life, that you’ll have to be a beast
of burden for me in the next one.

Right when he was fancifully preparing for them to die as love martyrs, a
bizarre true essence suddenly came up beside him like a divine army
descending from the Heavens, adding a layer of body-protecting true
essence to the both of them.

“…”

Wait a minute. Why was there someone else in this hellscape?

Despite it saving him, Sect Leader Yan had just been sunken too deep into
his fantasies, and was a tiny bit annoyed at getting disturbed.

Fortunately, this inopportune ailment of his was not one that attacked his
vitals. He reacted quickly, taking this precious bit of breath-catching time to
harmonize his own disordered true essence. At the same time, he didn’t
neglect to cautiously probe this unexpected helping hand.

The body-protecting essence was divided into two layers inside. The inner
layers closest to them was extraordinarily warm, like a quilt heated by the
stove in winter, instantly penetrating his limbs and all his bones. The outer
layer was extraordinarily cold, though, exactly as intense as the Site itself.

Who could have such extensive power?

Someone was heard to speak lightly into his ear. “Focus. You’re a bit
impatient. Your swordwill’s aggressive nature is too strong and will incite
the astral wind of this place; restrain it a little.”

He turned his head slightly. “Who…?”

The other didn’t answer, but a melody resounded from somewhere far away,
getting closer.

The tune was elongated and relaxed, like weather turning warm without
warning after a spring snow; the stagnant ice chunks inside a deteriorating
lotus pond slowly melted, exposing a minute hint of the life hidden within
the sludge, and the fish of the coming year brushed away the withered
branches and dead leaves of the season prior, exposing glinting scales.

And so, millions of lotus leaves resembled the gently lifted skirt of a beauty
slowly stretching out their body with grace, escorting a lotus flower washed
with clean water…

He couldn’t tell what instrument that was, but felt his heart that had been
unsettled because of Cheng Qian now settle a bit. The true essence of his
whole body flowed steadily inside his inner sanctum for a few full laps. He
took a deep breath, then became aware of his own mistake — he had been
too concerned about Cheng Qian just then, and horribly provoked by the
astral wind, that his swordwill had nearly dropped a realm.

He gradually gathered up his leaked-out sword qi, and the astral wind really
did weaken by a lot in its wake. After not long, it cooled down again.

He lowered his head to adjust Cheng Qian’s position. “Thank you…” he

said quietly, “My junior wasn’t doing too well. I might have had a moment
of letting that hot-bloodedness get to my head.”

The music’s last lingering note dimmed, its ending tone now stopped. “It’s
just a trifling curse,” the other said. “It can be resolved. No need to worry
too much.”

Yan Zhengming gently pulled Cheng Qian’s face up. Looking over it
carefully in total worry for a short minute, he discovered that the black qi
and weird, ear-shaped mark that had been between his brows were both
gone. Apart from the fact that his body was getting hotter and hotter, there
was no other abnormality to be seen.

Odd, he thought to himself. Looking at it like this, it doesn’t seem like soul-
painting.

“I wonder if your esteemed self could look and tell me what kind of curse is
on him?” he tentatively asked.

“The Spring-Autumn Curse,” the voice answered mildly. “You cultivators

seem to call it ‘soul-painting’, which sounds very mighty. It’s actually just a
minor skill, though. Don’t put it to mind.”

Yan Zhengming raised a brow — what did they mean, ‘you cultivators’?
“Dare I ask who your honor is—“

“I am no such ‘honor’,” the voice answered breezily. As if unaccustomed to

the polite manners of speech of humans, there was some rigidity in that
breeziness. “I am only a flower spirit born along with the Golden Lotus.”

As they spoke, a gray figure flashed before Yan Zhengming’s eyes. It was
vague, its age and gender unclear, and resembled an unremarkable moth
within the harsh Da Xue Mountain and increasingly dazzling golden light;
with the slightest bit of inattention, they would have been overlooked.

He slightly narrowed his eyes, unsure of how this spirit planned on dealing
with them, the two intruders.

The spirit appeared to be able to tell what he was thinking, and got straight
to the point. “Don’t fret too much. The reason why I came out to protect
you two was by order of the Lotus.”

Yan Zhengming was caught off guard. Even though he was frequently
conceited in his own excellence, he wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe
that flowers would bloom whenever they noticed him. Extreme vigilance
arose within him. This stupid flower isn’t going to make us into fertilizer,
right?
“Today’s Lotus Leaf bloomed because of you,” the spirit said. “You
naturally have the privilege to take it. Follow me.”

“…”

The Lotus was inviting him to take its Leaf? It saw that he was about to get
slapped to death by the Site, so it specially sent a spirit to protect them?

This was a daydream, right?

There was a saying: ‘chasing after the customer is not sound business.’ That
wasn’t even mentioning how he was used to always being unlucky; he
firmly refused to believe that such bullshit luck could land upon his head.

Frowning, he tentatively asked, “That… is staggeringly flattering to me, let

alone anyone else, but it was that preceding demonic cultivator that opened
a hole in Da Xue, and their base is likely higher than mine. How could I be
worthy?”

“That ghost cultivator’s base is indeed higher, but he doesn’t have the
qualifications — because he’s not a grandmaster of demons.”

“…Excuse me. Neither am I.”

“The great Lotus Leaf can wash off all sins of the human realm. It
represents a rule in and of itself; it isn’t that whoever has the higher base is
the one that gets acknowledged. The one that it acknowledges is no
discussion of righteous versus nefarious or demonhood, but must be able to
influence the situation and standards of one party. This is called ‘having
influence’, and influence involves ‘power’. I can see that you’re a righteous
cultivator. Perhaps you don’t have a particular area of excellence, yourself,
but all the other great powers of your generation are dead, and that ‘power’
has fallen to you. That’s nothing shocking. Don’t be afraid.”

“…”

That sounded like he was a slightly better candidate picked out of a bunch
of bad ones, but when he thought about it… it really seemed to be the case.
After Tong Ru’s death was the generation of the Four Sages. Now, with
Shang Wan’nian’s passing and Bian Xu’s decline, the era of the Four had
since gone. Within the demon-elimination move, both the Celestial
Divination Bureau and Nightmare Travelers’ Nine Sages were defeated, and
all the vital energies of the major sects had been hurt before the Ten-Party
Array. This was truly an age where the mountain had no tigers, allowing
him, a monkey, to be called king.

If nothing else, there was no way that them avoiding the death penalty for
Han Yuan so easily had nothing to do with the rapid rise of the Fuyao Sect.

“That so-called Da Xue Mystic Site is actually just a protective barrier

created by the Lotus itself in the Beiming Sea. Once it grows the Leaf, the
Site falls apart in an incense stick’s worth of time, then waits once more for
the next occasion of assembling beside the Lotus. You’d best move fast.
Take the Leaf, then bring your junior away from here on your own. He’s
only affected by minor soul-painting; with the Leaf, that can be broken with
no more effort than it would take to blow away dust.”

Yan Zhengming got the general sense that this Leaf was a bit hard to
believe in, so he had to ask, “Forgive my stupidity, but I need to ask more
— what is meant by ‘washing by away all the sins of the world’? Let us say
that someone has massacred the innocent, their sin heavy and deeds already
done. Could it be that as long as they have this Leaf, those that have died
can live again?”

The spirit was startled by this question, then smiled after a moment. “Most
of the people I’ve seen in the Site were demonic cultivators. As expected,
you righteous ones don’t think alike… the dead cannot be resurrected, of
course. The ‘sin’ I spoke of is not the same as what you’re thinking of.
Since you’ve entered the Sword Spirit Realm, you presumably have already
sensed the thing mysteriously fastened to all cultivators…”

“The path of Heaven,” Yan Zhengming answered.

“The path of Heaven has clearness, muddiness, liveliness, stillness,

longness, shortness, thickness, and thinness. What is rigid then breaks, what
is sturdy then falls. The path of Heaven makes demonic cultivators’ bases
progress rapidly, and also makes them fond of killing and blood, believing
it to be a balance. For the demonic path to become sacred, it must have
never been tainted with blood all their life. The path of Heaven wants
balance. Cultivators… this alleged ‘sin’ is also a way it balances. It causes
cultivators to consider consequences and restrict their own behaviors with
their own fears, so as not to end with divine tribulations at the ends of good
and evil.”

During this speech, Yan Zhengming’s feet touched real ground. It seemed
like he was near the Site’s outback; those overbearing astral winds had
vanished at some unknown time.

In the wake of his true essence’s circulation, the wounds of all sizes on his
body began to mend. He firmly held Cheng Qian, and did not proceed any
further, standing where he was. “What you mean is that the Leaf sounds
almighty, but in plain words, it’s a red apricot escaping guilt before
tribulations?”

“Stemming from mud, remove its filth and take its cleanliness — if you
insist upon saying it like that, then you’re not wrong.”

Yan Zhengming felt an indescribable conflict, that fatal magnetism from the
Leaf diluting.

The spirit stood ten steps away from him. “The path of Heaven is not
benevolent, taking all life as straw dogs — what is the difference between
the righteous and evil, to the Great Dao? And yet, you mortals can’t see
through that.”

Yan Zhengming simply wanted to sneer at that. If that were the truth, what
significance would Han Yuan’s five hundred years of whipping have? Just
stick a lotus leaf onto his forehead, and he would turn into a pure and
guiltless little lamb on the spot!

Right then, he heard the sound of a plant breaking through the soil, after
which an exotic aroma that was hard to put into words came through. The
spirit raised their head slightly. “The Golden Lotus is blooming, the Leaf
that can cloud the eyes also unfurling…”
Yan Zhengming was startled, looking up in the direction the spirit was
facing to see a gold lotus no more than two fists big floating above the
ground. Very close to the flower, that bizarre golden light actually wasn’t
that strong, unspeakably sanctified; and yet, its roots were buried deep into
the pitch-black Beiming Sea’s waters, giving a strong contrast.

So that was it… this site could extinguish all lights, including the natural
night pearls, because the ice here had been made from that extremely dark
Beiming water!

The lotus stood alone in a thin layer of seawater, a lingering layer of fog
floating above it. As if it had felt an outsider’s breath, it suddenly and
slowly twirled, revealing a palm-sized leaf hidden under it.

For some reason, as soon as he saw it, a certain reverence grew within him.

The spirit sighed quietly. “This is the heart of Da Xue… since it unfurled
for you, cultivator, it is yours.”

Yan Zhengming didn’t move, though.

The spirit glanced at Cheng Qian. “The Leaf is as a flower that blooms at
night; once fully unfurled, there is only an incense’s worth of time it has
before it withers, and the Site collapses in its wake. This is a worldly
treasure that all humans bust their heads open wanting; what are you still
mulling over?!”

There was some insuppressible anxiety and entreaty in the spirit’s tone. Yan
Zhengming was almost inspired to rebel from their urgency, thinking, The
Emperor isn’t in a rush, but the eunuch is. Where’s the reason in that?

Noticing his wavering expression, the spirit immediately prescribed the

right medicine. “You might be able to wait on the Leaf, but your junior’s
soul-painting likely won’t, soon!”

Those words stuck right into his mortal acupoint. While he continuously
approached the lotus, Cheng Qian’s fate grew paler, and by the time they
got over there, the hair on his temples were already completely soaked
through with cold sweat, and his fingers were unconsciously spasming into
fists. His entire body was shaking, as if he was enduring immense pain.

“Are you planning to watch him mutilate himself to death in your arms in
order to not kill you?”

Yan Zhengming finally couldn’t resist anymore. He set Cheng Qian down
to let him lean against him, then freed up one hand so that it could reach out
for the Golden Lotus Leaf that made every demonic cultivator alive go
wild.

And at this critical moment, Cheng Qian woke up.

 LY 104

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Surviving golden light flickered in Cheng Qian’s eyes. He seemed to have

snapped out of his immense pain, grabbing Yan Zhengming’s outstretched
hand without warning.

His entire body was still trembling. In addition to pain, an indescribable

gloom tinged his features.

He shut his eyes. The next moment, Yan Zhengming abruptly unsheathed
Shuang Ren for him from where it had been placed behind his back, then
slashed a huge arc through the air at the nearby flower spirit, without
lenience.

In this split second, the spirit had been wanting to dodge, but Shuang Ren
was going at an extremely devious angle — if they dodged, that sword qi
would inevitably effect the lotus.

Unable to avoid it, the spirit let out a loud shout. That bizarre cold-outside,
hot-inside true essence instantly formed a barrier with them as the center.

It wasn’t clear whether this barrier was a technique or made from an

artifact, but could hold up against even the astral wind of Da Xue. Upon
meeting Shuang Ren’s swordwind, the crash sent a sky-shaking noise
bouncing around Beiming’s depths.

Da Xue Mountain made an unbearable groaning sound, and the astral wind
that had since calmed down began to well up restlessly again.
With another look, no leaf was beneath the Golden Lotus at all — there was
clearly a bald patch!

So, it had been an illusionary technique.

Shuang Ren staggered as it flew out. Cheng Qian reached out to pull it into
his hand.

At the same exact time, the spirit drew back a few steps, the originally-gray
figure seeming to sway unsteadily.

This unforeseen incident unfolded very quickly, practically

overwhelmingly. Yan Zhengming and the spirit started speaking nearly
simultaneously.

“Xiao Qian, what are you doing?” Yan Zhengming asked, completely
bewildered.

“Are you insane?! The Golden Lotus is the heart of Beiming!” the spirit
roared, furious.

“The heart of Beiming… what does that have to do with me?” Cheng Qian
hoarsely answered. His expression did not look any sort of better, eyes like
ink, staring dead at the indistinct figure of the spirit with a complexion as
sunken as water. “Quit acting. I dug out the Ice-hearted Fire you wield in
Zhaoyang myself.”

Wait… Ice-hearted Fire?

“You’re saying… that this is Tang Zhen?” Yan Zhengming asked.

As soon as the name ‘Tang Zhen’ was out, green veins bulged out of Cheng
Qian’s hand that was holding Shuang Ren. The tip of the sword lightly
brushed against the ground, producing a tooth-hurting scraping sound.

Yan Zhengming felt his head swelling. “What is actually going on with
you? Was that soul-painting just now?”
“Soul-painting that was bestowed by Zhenren Tang. It’s been resolved now,
though.” Cheng Qian turned to him; when his frigid and remote gaze landed
upon Yan Zhengming, it finally softened up. He gazed at him deeply, then
suddenly whispered. “Thank you, senior.”

There seemed to be millions of words in that look. Yan Zhengming

completely did not understand the reason for them, reflexively waving his
hand. “No… no need to thank me. Wait, all of this is a mess! You’re saying
that this moth is Tang Zhen, and he placed soul-painting on you?”

“His real body is the Soul-Devouring Lamp. I’m guessing that he’s only
moving his primordial spirit using a ghost body that’s frozen in the Site.”
Cheng Qian slowly turned to the ‘flower spirit’. “Only the true owner of the
Soul-Devouring Lamp can place their spiritual consciousness into one of
the infinite ghosts of the Lamp — isn’t that right, Brother Tang?”

Since he had said as much, the ‘spirit’ went quiet for a moment, then
suddenly chuckled, slowly becoming clear in midair.

Inside white mist, the form of a lifeless young woman first appeared, one
glance at her complexion and dulled gaze telling that she was a ghost, after
which her figure gradually stretched out, facial features slowly distorting
like they were paste. After several changes, she finally became Tang Zhen.

Having been exposed by him, all of his plans had nearly fallen through at
the last second, but as his shrewdness went extremely deep, he did not let
any of his annoyance show through to his face. “The so-called path of the
ghost was originally just the path of the soul,” he said with a smile, hands
behind his back. “If someone who cultivates the path of the ghost can only
command a bunch of ghosts to bite their enemies apart, what is the
difference between keeping ghosts and keeping dogs? It’s rather too
shoddy.”

Yan Zhengming hesitated for a moment. “You are the Lamp… so what is
Jiang Peng?”

Tang Zhen glanced at the bare, leafless Golden Lotus. “Well, there’s no
harm in chatting with you two here. The ghost path is a wide-reaching
route; if the soul and primordial spirit can be refined, can a corporeal body
not be? People are much too constrained to formalities.”

“You refined his body and soul together?” Yan Zhengming asked in
astonishment.

“Incorrect. You’ve likely also heard that the ghost path is a form of the
demonic path, Sect Leader Yan. One’s own hands cannot be stained with
blood, else they’ll become a slave to murderous thoughts. I merely got close
to him using our old acquaintance during his travels, then took this
advantage to fan the flames. He was voluntarily refined by the Lamp, and
now, he still believes that he’s the one controlling it.”

“Han Yuan said to me that the Bureau’s people had purposefully given him
an alleged ghost cultivation method, and plotted for him to be drawn into
the Lamp to become a ghost cultivator… It sounded strange to me at the
time, because how could someone with strong vision like the Third Prince
take a fancy to Jiang Peng’s aptitude? It was you the whole time,” Cheng
Qian said coldly.

Even though Zhou Hanzheng had put Han Yuan under soul-painting way
back when, that had been a personal grudge between them and him. At
most, they held the Bureau that supported him in contempt. That was why
when Wu Changtian later paid a visit, Yan Zhengming had only said that
they would fight, not go about murdering him.

Had it not been for the blood debt of Jiang Peng’s murder of all of Han
Yuan’s family, the latter would never have had such immense hatred for the
Bureau, nor have ever cultivated into a demonic dragon for the sake of
revenge, thus inciting great chaos in Nanjiang.

“It was you that misguided Han Yuan,” Cheng Qian went on.

Tang Zheng smiled lightly. “From Tong Ru to Gu Yanxue, has the Bureau
ever done anything good? Even if I hadn’t been adding fuel to the fire,
inferior people like that ‘Third Prince’ go looking for their own deaths.
How could they have lasted for such a long time?”
Yan Zhengming suddenly recalled that when the Western Palace’s Bai Ji
went to Azure Dragon Island to cause trouble, he had been acting in the
name of searching for his grandson, and someone had stood out and said
that there were ghost cultivators on the island. He had thought that that had
been a pretext found by those indecipherable people to pressure Gu Yanxue,
but now, it seemed like…

“Our martial grandfather nearly destroyed your Lamp, so you were hiding
out near Azure Dragon Island all that time!” he suddenly said.

Those words were without beginning and end, but all three of them
understood what they heard.

Tang Zhen did not deny it. “I finely studied the path of the soul. Over a
hundred years ago, I was ordered by my seniors to serve another Senior on
Mulan Mountain who was dying. I was young and full of energy at the
time; after accompanying him to the end of his life, I had the idea to use a
newly-acquired secret technique to pry into the vestiges of his primordial
spirit remaining in his body, and incidentally learned some of his memories.
That Senior had been a plant in the Bureau… and they were mulling over
how to get rid of Tong Ru, whose limelight was too strong.

“I got too curious. At right that time, when I had just finished my training, I
was stuck at the primordial spirit hurdle and needed to go down the
mountain to gain experience. I gave noticed to my sect, then brought one of
my junior sisters with me to Fuyao to watch the excitement.”

“And you didn’t expect that by coincidence, you wouldn’t be watching the
excitement, but becoming the excitement yourself when you cuckolded the
Yao King,” Yan Zhengming picked up.

Tang Zhen brushed off his vulgarity with a smile. “Indeed. I didn’t expect
that to happen, and never returned — for many years, I rummaged all
through the world for tiny clues of the Golden Lotus Leaf, after which I
learned that it had to eat ‘influence’ to be born. Only when it inhales the
soul of one that has collected worldwide influence will its flower finally fall
and leaves be visible. Had Gu Yanxue not died back then, that ‘influence’
would have fallen upon him as this world’s number-one, but because of that
idiot Jiang Peng, I was injured by Tong Ru, and met with the Bureau a step
too soon.”

“So, Jiang Peng always wanted to inherit Beiming,” Cheng Qian said. “He
really dedicated himself in want to give you fertilizer.”

Tang Zhen turned to him. “He does have that obsession. Unfortunately, due
to the limits of his aptitude, he has no karmic connection to the title ‘Lord
Beiming’ at all. Then, by happenstance, I came across you, whose soul was
in the Spirit-Collection Jade. Our two fates in life were really too similar, so
I meddled in your business for a time. Yet, the worldly spiritual object that
the Jade is was different from the Soul-Devouring Lamp; you actually
managed to refine a physical body by enduring heavenly tribulations.
Cheng Qian, in your form, I saw my own hope.”

Cheng Qian’s face was blank.

The other sighed. “Counting on Jiang Peng to be Beiming is too unrealistic.

When you said to me in Mingming Valley that you were willing to tread
through fire for me, I then plotted on guiding that ‘influence’ over to you.
Unexpectedly, after the Immortal Binding Platform, you didn’t hesitate to
injure yourself and couldn’t bear to watch your senior brother die… tch. In
the end, humanity’s calculations are inferior to the Heavens’.”

Yan Zhengming smiled fakely. “Ah. That’s really unfair to you, for your
latrine filled with flower fertilizer to accidentally get occupied.”

Tang Zhen was unconcerned. “No need to say it’s unfair. Astral wind covers
this Site; since you’ve entered, you’re not getting out without the protection
of the Ice-hearted Fire. Do you want to be trapped here together with him,
or will you obediently sacrifice your soul so that I happily retrieve the Leaf?
I can guarantee that I will bring your precious junior out of here with all his
pieces intact.”

Cheng Qian stared at Tang Zhen with a complicated expression. Before Yan
Zhengming could answer, he suddenly interjected, “Are you working so
hard to get the Leaf for our junior sister? If you admit to that much, Tang
Zhen, I’ll forgive you.”
Hearing this, steam came out of all of Yan Zhengming’s orifices as he
glared at Cheng Qian. What? You promising to ‘tread through fire’ for
someone else behind my back aside, he’s set off so much crap! How could
you randomly forgive him with one deceiving sentence?! There’s no logic!
This Tang guy has to have drugged you with some kind of enchanting
potion!

Tang Zhen also appeared to be a bit astonished, soon after which he smiled.
“Yes. It’s for her.”

Cheng Qian stared into his eyes — only then could he see that within those
eyes that always seemed to be as warm as spring, there had only been a pit
of madness.

“Since it’s for her,” he enunciated, “then dare I ask what her name is, what
year and month she was born on, and when the first time her yao form
showed up and took to the skies was?”

Tang Zhen’s face was like a mask. He was not angry at getting seen
through, constantly watching him with an impenetrable smile. “My young
friend, let’s not pretend to affectionately beat around the bush. I will tell
you the truth; only beings that are born in the morning and die by evening,
like mortals and insects, will think about having generations of offspring.
After achieving the Dao and ascending, the world will be unchanging, all
the living things in it like one mass. What would it matter if any of them are
related to you by blood?”

“Oh, I get it now. You want to use the Leaf to wash away the Lamp’s sins,
pull through the heavenly tribulations, and ascend to immortality.”

“No. Enduring the tribulations would only refine my a half-immortal body

like yours,” Tang Zhen earnestly corrected. “I want those millions of souls
— do you remember what I told you before? With your current form, if you
could spend your entire life purely cultivating beside that ice pool, you
would have eternal life. Ghosts are to me what the cold qi of the ice pool is
to you.”
The tribulation of millions of resentful ghosts had stemmed from Tong Ru.
Who it would respond to was something everyone had countless guesses
about.

Some had said that it would respond during the military calamity of Prince
An’s armed rebellion, some had said that it would respond during the war
calamity of the Nanjiang demonic dragon, and some had said that the
Celestial Divination Bureau would reach too high…

No one had expected that it would respond to Tang Zhen.

Yan Zhengming suddenly remember that Li Yun had told him that people
like Zhenren Muchun would have disturbances in their psyche after
escaping from the Soul-Devouring Lamp. That was saying nothing about
Tang Zhen… who had completely integrated with it.

The Lamp had long worn down his humanity. His sweetheart and beloved
daughter he had once risked his life for were now likely no more than
poorly-acquainted strangers to him.

“Eternal life…” A weird expression showed on Cheng Qian’s face,

somewhere between mocking and bitterly smiling. He suddenly reached out
to grab the lotus. “I’ll complete you. I’ll pick this Leaf and give you your
eternal life—“

Yan Zhengming panicked. “Careful, don’t touch—“

Tang Zhen disapproved, thinking to say the ‘influence of the world’ did not
belong to Cheng Qian, so he would not be luring the Leaf out — but, as
soon as Cheng Qian reached over, the petals of the lotus all withered for
reasons unknown, and a tiny, thumb-length leaf was seen majestically
growing out of the lotus’s base!

In the midst of Tang Zhen’s shock, the Leaf furled up delicately — it didn’t
get the time to open up, as Cheng Qian mercilessly plucked it off and
gripped it in his hand.

And yet, the Golden Lotus could not devour his soul.
 LY 105

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“Impossible…” Tang Zhen’s pupils contracted. He suddenly recalled

something. “That can’t be. How did you shake off the soul-painting?”

Cheng Qian smiled without sound. That grin held an indescribable

implication inside it, a layer of unfamiliar weariness floating upon its
surface, and a hidden feeling of difficulty that he forcibly suppressed
beneath it.

Yan Zhengming was startled, but before he could react, the ground under
his feet violently shook.

Right; since the Golden Lotus had wilted and the Leaf had been taken, Da
Xue Mountain would inevitably collapse.

“So that’s why,” Cheng Qian whispered, holding the little Leaf. “If demonic
cultivator come, this Leaf will only recognize the leader of many demons,
then, right? No wonder the leader is also called ‘Lord Beiming’, with that
implication. Tang Zhen, have you ever heard of any preceding case of a
demonic cultivator ascending?”

Tang Zhen gave an arrogant and mocking smile. “Effort always begets
results, little friend.”

When he said that, he vaguely resembled how he had when he had said his
farewell to Tong Ru and descended Fuyao Mountain two hundred years
ago.
Cheng Qian calmly looked at him. Gradually, all the wrath and iciness on
his face faded away, and slightly inconspicuous self-mockery and grief
floated up. He seemed to be looking at Tang Zhen, yet also seemed to be
looking at something else through him.

His eyes were melancholy, and piteous.

The minute Cheng Qian ever started frowning, Yan Zhengming knew that
he was going to start cussing something out. At this time, he wasn’t sure if
it was his misperception or what, but he got the overall feeling that he could
see a bit of his own listlessness out of the other’s eyes.

Cheng Qian apathetically raised the Leaf he held, then used his fingers to
forcibly twirl open the not-yet-opened thing with no gentleness.

Tang Zhen’s expression finally changed. He could no longer keep his airy
demeanor up, eyes emitting the bloodied qi unique to demonic cultivation;
vermillion red, and ferocious-looking. “Hold on. What are you doing?”

“How many troubles in this world have been born out of nothing because of
you people’s delusions?” Cheng Qian answered indifferently.

“No, you can’t—“

The other suddenly clapped his palms together, and without the slightest bit
of mercy, that Leaf was broken into bits at once.

Tang Zhen was stupefied in disbelief for a long time, then let out an
inhuman shriek, charging at him in near insanity. He no longer took pains to
conceal the sky-soaring demonic qi about himself, his entire form turning
into a cloud of black fog.

Yan Zhengming actually really wanted to shriek, too — That was the
Golden Lotus Leaf of Da Xue Mountain, a human-world treasure everyone
had heard of before! The fucking thing was worth a lot of money!

And yet this wastrel, Cheng Qian, had just crushed it!

All these trashbags that didn’t have mouths to feed were much too reckless!
However, the Site was constantly crumbling, there was a major devil of
unknown power right in front of him, and Cheng Qian appeared to be
extremely unstable, both physically and mentally. Despite wanting nothing
more than to make him go kneel on a rolling pin for a month, Yan
Zhengming had no choice right now but to pull Cheng Qian behind him and
raise his sword to greet Tang Zhen.

A loud noise came from deep inside the Site. In the distance, the huge ice
layer began to crack in large chunks.

Tang Zhen had nothing of his gentlemanly appearance left. His eyes were
so red, they were nearly seeping blood, and black qi coiled about his face;
clearly, demonic qi had tangled up with him long ago.

Still, as soon as they exchanged blows, Yan Zhengming’s hand that held his
sword was shocked numb by him. He couldn’t help but be astonished —
had Han Yuan never been qualified to inherit Beiming because he had no
chance to defeat the previous Lord Beiming, or was it because of Tang
Zhen?

And this wasn’t even his real body, it was just a phantom!

Several other ghosts emerged out of nowhere, ice crystals from the Site on
their bodies, and neatly lined up behind Tang Zhen.

Yan Zhengming didn’t dare to be careless, using one hand to complete a

hand seal and fully open the qi field of his source wooden sword.
Overbearing sword qi paid no mind to the continuously-falling ice chunks
around, pressing right in on Tang Zhen.

Right then, Shuang Ren was unsheathed with a shing, all of the frigid qi of
the Site appeared to get stirred up by it. Taking advantage of Yan
Zhengming stalling Tang Zhen, Cheng Qian flashed over like an apparition,
his sword’s shadow slippery, one move of Subtlety appearing to be all-
pervading, bisecting several of the ghosts behind Tang Zhen.

“Imp. You two are pushing too hard.” Tang Zhen’s face had turned ugly. His
hundred-year arrangement had been shattered by Cheng Qian’s palms,
making him nearly go mad, the repercussions of his primordial spirit having
been locked up with the Soul-Devouring Lamp for such a long time
exploding out without any sort of cushioning. “You really think that chunk
of Wish-Granting Stone on Fuyao Mountain is set up nicely?”

He flicked out a sleeve, which collided with Yan Zhengming’s swordwind.

The demonic qi rent to shreds by the sword qi seemed to have an even
sharper edge. “And that you two alone would be able to kill me?”

Tang Zhen laughed aloud. “You destroyed the Leaf. I can wait for the next
one, but will you be able to?”

What did that mean? Yan Zhengming’s thought quickly revolved, but he
didn’t get to reason it out in time — the very next moment, the ghost that
Tang Zhen occupied burst open without prior portent, its force no lesser
than that of a normal cultivator that had blown up their own primordial
spirit.

He ran away!

The teetering Site completely collapsed. Tumultuous waves crashed into the
torn-open surface, Tang Zhen’s ghosts melting into Beiming’s waters before
them. Yan Zhengming only had enough time to grab Cheng Qian, forcibly
summon a barrier of body-protecting true essence, and then become
submerged.

The pressure of the most demonically-aligned seawater in the world was too
much for him to bear. His breathing stuttered as he had the momentary
illusion that he was getting buried alive. Aside from how tightly he held
Cheng Qian, he seeming to be disconnected from all of his surroundings,
unable to even feel the primordial spirit sword he had place elsewhere.

They somehow did not float up in the water. The unparalleled pressure of
the ocean was like a palm with no give, pushing them to the bed of
Beiming.

At the same time, Li Yun, a thousand li away, noticed the primordial spirit
sword lightening in his hand. That glimmering sword qi flickered a few
times, then dimmed down, as if it had lost its connection to its owner.

He startled, after which his face suddenly paled. “Something happened to

our eldest!”

Shui Keng hadn’t yet recovered from the feather turning to ash in her hand.
“What are you talking about, brother?! Don’t scare me!”

Li Yun, who had just been so glib-tongued, was now somewhat rambling.
“This spirit sword… he left it to me, and I felt… the connection suddenly
break—“

A piercing blast boomed through the air, cutting him off. Startling in fright,
he looked up to see that Han Yuan and Jiang Peng had stayed their hands at
the same time, each separating. The set-up of the array of those outside had
been completed, and looked especially familiar — it was actually the exact
same Demon Extermination Array as from the base of Tai Yin!

Black clouds rolled in the highest skies. The White Tiger disciples had
never seen such a thing before, successively drawing back in disorientation,
and then a massive sabre descended from the air, pointed directly at Han
Yuan. He did not avoid it, tilting his head back to look at the sabrelight in
the cloud cover with a sneer on his face, immediately after which he flew
up to meet it.

This isn’t right! Li Yun thought, throat dry. Doesn’t Bian Xu know that the
Bureau already used this Array against Han Yuan before? Has he actually
gone stupid in his age? Why is he doing the same old trick?

Jiang Peng had suddenly lost his opponent, looking up at the big sword in
the air. For some reason, he didn’t give chase for an attack.

With but a crisp sound, the Demon Extermination Sabre formed of black
clouds met the demonic dragon. Sabrewind was all-encompassing, paring
flat the summit of the mountain closest to the two of them in an instant.
Wind and thunder surged. Delicate sparks burst out of the dragon’s scales,
stretching out like a string of fireworks beneath the sabrewind.
Han Yuan grinned while in the ninth firmament. “There’s more than one
spot in the world where a primordial spirit sword can lose connection with
its owner. Your eldest might have bored himself into some mouse hole, Li
Yun. What are you overblowing this for?”

Li Yun’s brows jumped up as he sharply gleaned something out of his tone.

“Scourges last for a thousand years. Who in this world is more of a scourge
than him?” Han Yuan continued. “As I see it, you shouldn’t have baseless
fears.”

Li Yun raised his head, only for that sabrelight to be so blinding, he couldn’t
open his eyes. He wanted to ask the coiling demonic dragon in the sky: With
that positive tone of yours, are you merely comforting yourself, or did you
actually see clues in the Three-Life Mystic Site?

What had Han Yuan seen there, that day outside the Ten-Party Platform?

However, he was not given time to speak. There was a circle outside the
Demon Extermination Array; the huge banner of Black Tortoise Hall rose
up to face the wind, billowing, and in the array’s eye, a group headed by
Bian Xu walked on over.

Jiang Peng, the originally-frenzied Soul-Devouring Lamp, seemed to have

suddenly been switched out for a different person. He stood there quietly,
thin face constantly getting off-and-on illuminated by the Array’s
sabrelight. “Alas, this Hall Master of Black Tortoise…” he mumbled, “with
a heart like that, it’s little wonder that he’s gotten so old, and yet the
‘influence’ of the world refuses to land upon him.”

The demonic dragon had the sabre of the Array supported on his shoulder.
Slightly narrowing his eyes, he looked at Bian Xu.

The White Tiger elder wasn’t about to wait for him to talk, jumping out and
charging ahead on his own initiative to point at Bian Xu’s nose and curse at
him. “What is the meaning of this? The majestic Black Tortoise Hall, taking
the lead in rebellion?! You’re worse than that gaggle of raggedy demons!”
Upon hearing that indiscriminate attack, the dragon in the sky puffed
angrily through his nose.

“That pledge was set between the White Tiger Estate and the Fuyao Sect. I
didn’t agree to it,” Bian Xu said coldly. “The face of your Estate changes
like the pages of a book. As soon as Estate Lord Shang learned that his life
was almost up, he immediately found a great backer for you all, really
sparing no effort for you… why don’t I see that backer, Sect Leader Yan?”

The elder stamped his foot. “You’re practically qi deviating!”

Bian Xu looked calm. “My only son is dead, my mental realm is stagnant,
and there’s no way for my cultivation base to advance further in this life of
mine. My immediate lifespan is no more than a decade or two. This is what
the grand Four Sages are… now, I have nothing. What would I be afraid
of?”

Han Yuan turned into human form and crossed his arms, dropped down a
bit from the air. “You blaming me?”

The White Tiger elder glared at the shit-stirring stick that was the demonic
dragon. “Homicide should be repaid with life. Brother Bian, this dragon
won’t be able to atone for his sins even with a death from a thousand cuts,
but the chaos of Nanjiang needs him to clean it up. Your Hall has always
been benevolent in regards to working for the welfare of the people…”

“The welfare of the people?” Bian Xu lightly laughed. “When my son was
murdered, why didn’t you think about our Hall being the head of a party?
Why didn’t you bring up anyone’s welfare?”

The elder choked on his words.

Bian Xu did not give him another chance to speak. “Kill the demonic
dragon! I will handle these demonic cultivators!”

With that, he waited for no one, slashing straight into the Array and
charging at Han Yuan. The latter, of course, was no pacifist, but right as he
went to fight back, the oath mark on the back of his hand suddenly flashed,
and the black clouds in the sky began to curl like a warning; the Array
started to stir.

He inwardly cursed, flipping around in midair. White Tiger Estate’s crowd

promptly came up to greet this. The clear-headeded that had just flitted past
Jiang Peng’s face vanished yet again, as if someone the had been
temporarily affixed to him had now flown off. Giving off a bizarre shout,
the word ‘Beiming’ was the only thing in his eyes once more, countless
ghosts following him to block Han Yuan’s path.

Righteous against righteous, demonic against demonic. This fight was

beyond chaotic, making it impossible to tell who was who.

Then, a minor zinging sound came from all around as something appeared
to flash past the Array’s rim; if one had had the slightest bit of inattention, it
would have been covered up by the cacophony. Others hadn’t heard it, but
Shui Keng had, and though she had no clue at all what it was, her feathers
instantly puffed out.

Opening her eyes wide, she happened to see Han Yuan no longer be able to
keep his awful temper in check, and risk suffering lightning backlash to slap
the aged Bian Xu away.

The other was struck ten or so zhang away by the enraged devil,
immediately spitting out blood. Yet, something weird happened — the
blood-oath sigil on the back of Han Yuan’s had actually didn’t backlash.

That meant… what?

Could it be that in such a short timespan, Bian Xu had qi deviated, and was
no longer protected by the oath?

Startled for a moment, Han Yuan then looked up at Bian Xu in confusion.

“What did you do?”

Bian Xu slowly wiped the corners of his mouth off. His face was withering
up at a visible rate. Dense wrinkles crawled up the corners of his eyes like
an invisible knife was carving them out. Bloody light flashed in his eyes, a
ring of bizarre charms floating around his body like totems.

“What in the world is that?” the White Tiger elder muttered.

Han Yuan didn’t make a sound, tightly clenching the heavy sword he held.

The next moment, Bian Xu was seen to suddenly spread his arms out and
raise them. The majority of his grayed hair resembled dead flowers, falling
out in chunks, and his voice was as hoarse as a cuckoo crowing blood as he
looked up at the sky and roared, “Emperor of the Sky…”

With those words said, Li Yun’s hairs stood on end. “He’s performing
Sacrifice?”

Sacrifice was one of the most malevolent curses, where mortals could use
the technique to kill someone intangibly. The power of this curse had been
handed down through generations, so of course one of the former Four
Sages would have it.

However, once this technique was completed, his physical form, three hun
and seven po, descendants, and family foundation would all completely
vanish.

“He’s using Sacrifice over his worthless, bastard son?!” the elder snarled
incredulously. “He would so far?!”

No…

A cultivator’s lifespan was long enough, and consanguinity with children

was thin. As long as he wanted to, couldn’t he just be born again? As the
prestigious Black Tortoise Hall Master, there were countless people that
would be willing to commit themselves to him.

He was doing this for his lifetime of past glory, while today’s Hall was on
the decline.

Once his fate had left its port, no one revered him, and he couldn’t even
incur the justice he wanted for his murdered relations.
He was firmly trapped in the past and the present, crushed to death within
his decline from the peak.

Was the one he hated most really Han Yuan, his son-killing enemy?

Or was Han Yuan just his excuse?

There was no way for any of that to be verified right now.

Han Yuan charged at Bian Xu at once, attempting to interrupt him before he

could implement Sacrifice, but then a black shadow pounced over in the air.
Jiang Peng came out of the Lamp to bar his way, and in the span of a breath
the black dragon sword had already collided with the ghost four times.

Han Yuan’s expression suddenly twisted up, and he turned to look at Jiang
Peng. “You’re not Jiang Peng! Who are you?!”

A bizarre grin appeared on the other’s face. “Who am I? You won’t guess it
even if you die…”

Bian Xu was not influenced by them at all, making a worshipping stance.

“Empress of the Earth!”

“What are you all staring blankly for?! Stop him!” Li Yun shouted.

You Liang’s primordial spirit swords abruptly converged into a cluster,

which shot at Bian Xu. Gripping the completely-grayed sparrow feather,
Shui Keng grit her teeth and revealed her Red Crane form — wrapped in
the True Fire, she swept towards the group of ghosts to open up a path on
the swordlight’s behalf.

‘Jiang Peng’ laughed quietly, making Han Yuan’s hairs stand on end.

Han Yuan blocked Shui Keng, accurately grabbed her long bird neck, then
tossed her behind him. Right then, an immense sound blasted through the
air as a ghost suddenly blew itself up. The six White Tiger disciples
surrounding it didn’t have time to dodge, instantly exploded into pieces.
‘Jiang Peng’ raised his head with a smile, looked at Han Yuan, and mouther
the word ‘bang’.

Han Yuan turned into the dragon, that demonic qi that originally terrorized
people forming a protective barrier that engulfed everyone.

The ghosts then successively self-destructed in midair, the sound like

thunder, much sharper than the blades of the tactless Demon Extermination
Array. After such a short moment, Han Yuan was no long able to sustain his
magic dragon form, reverting to a human and falling from the sky like a
broken kite.

His panlong robes were soaked in blood. Now, he actually had become
‘raggedy’, to quote the Whiter Tiger elder.

Expression overcast, he waved off Shui Keng’s hand that went to help him
up, barely managing to stand up while supporting himself on his sword.

Shuzhong’s thousands of mountains suddenly began to quake incessantly

together. Bian Xu’s form rose into the air like mad as he shouted, “My flesh
—“

His old skinsack burst like a torn-open bag, turning his entire body into a
mangle skeleton that showcased crimson musculature and eerie white
bones, like a corpse being skinned alive.

And yet, he went on without regard. “Primordial spirit—“

That meat-only corpse burst. An orb of light resembling a cultivator’s

sanctum of immortality lightly surged up, Bian Xu’s primordial spirit seated
within it, encased in dense, bloodied qi.

Bian Xu could no longer speak using a mouth, a bellow like a vast bell
bubbling out from the suspended, uncovered inner sanctum. “And soul!”

With that said, Sacrifice was completed. The phantom image of the Soul-
Devouring Lamp suddenly vanished, and the group of ghosts suddenly flew
off in different directions like swallows. Bian Xu’s midair inner estate
sharply contracted into a dot, then detonated.

When Gu Yanxue died, the East Sea had been turbulent for one day and
night. In his life before, Bian Xu had been quite unknown amongst the Four
Sages, but the aftermath of his death was more world-shaking than any
other’s.

All of Shu branched off of this location. This invisible attack rushed out in
all directions at a rapid velocity.

Mountains collapsed. Not a single bird, beast, bug, or fish had time to
escape. Villages seemed to get wiped off the face of the earth. This entire
stretch of land was immersed within boundless darkness, fresh resentful
souls rising up all over the place, and the phantom of the Lamp showed
back up on the horizon like it was welcoming a full feast.

No sun nor moon could be seen. It was as if the only thing left was the
Lamp rife with evil, inhaling ghosts from every direction non-stop.

Han Yuan’s pupil’s violently contracted.

He would not deny his own massacres. Innumerable cultivators had died by
his hands outside of Vermillion Bird Tower. He understood that if his life
was forfeited right now, it would be a result of his crimes.

But it was cultivators that planted causes to receive their effects. Why did
the innocent mortals living here have to suffer such a fate?

Those faces that were getting sucked into the Lamp swept past him, one by
one. His pupils had nearly shrunken to pinpoints.

The cause that Tong Ru had once planted was finally responding in such a
brutal way.

Jiang Peng, who had been trying to obstruct Han Yuan, spread out his arms,
smiling like his wish had been granted. He was bathed in slaughter that
could not be described. Arms open, he allowed Bian Xu’s forbidden
technique to bowl over him.

His body fell to pieces like a walking corpse’s, revealing a specter-like

figure together with the Soul-Subduing Lamp.

Shui Keng covered her mouth when he recognized who the spirit was.

Soon after, the rolling forbidden technique came over to crush them. Han
Yuan frantically shoved Shui Keng far away, then took up his dragon form
once more, roaring. His body stretched out like a million-li-long mountain
ridge or city wall, twisted into a huge circle where he was, end connected to
end, in an attempt to forcibly stop the onslaught with his own flesh.

Tang Zhen’s eyes within the Soul-Devouring Lamp met his. The former
chuckled, shaking his head.

Then, he reached out a hand to make a claw. A claw composed of ghosts

swept down from the air, directly sticking itself into the body of the
demonic dragon.

The translator says: Take a shot for every time something blew up in this chapter.
 LY 106

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What flowed in the Sea of Beiming was not so much water as it was a
whole world, where the clear and turbid were in stark divide.

When boats were on the water’s surface, they could still float. Once a
human got inside it, there would seem to be a relentless palm pressing down
on the top of their head.

Almighty cultivators were still not tortoise spirits. They could endure for
about half a month, but if pressed under the water for years, even gold
inlaid with jade would get soggy, to say nothing of flesh and blood bodies.

The water surrounding them was as silent as death, seemingly unmoving.

Only when one presumptuously attempted to fight the might of Beiming
would they be met with a lesson as heavy as a mountain.

Yan Zhengming had repeatedly tried to use his sword qi to forcibly break
away from the pressure on their heads, but it felt like he was an ant trying to
shake a tree.

As a mortal — even on that had already entered Sword Spirit Realm — he

was still just an ant before the Sea of Beiming.

Cheng Qian’s confrontation with Tang Zhen appeared to have used up all of
his mental energy. Right now, there was some listlessness in his eyes that
had nowhere to settle. Even though he was allowed to do what he wanted
and pull him wherever he wanted to go, Yan Zhengming got the general
feeling that… if he let go, Cheng Qian would eventually dissolve in the
seawater, offering no objection even if he drowned and became a floating
corpse.

Having been scared half to death by him before this, and unclear on if that
soul-painting had been cleared out, Yan Zhengming dared not excite him
any further, nor expect him to have any suggestions of use. Still, their
environs were too quiet; he couldn’t resist breaking the silence by
cautiously teasing Cheng Qian. “Being a love martyr really sounds fancy,
but I’m the prodigy of a generation! I can’t be quietly martyred like this!”

Hearing this, Cheng Qian finally had something of a response. His eyes
slightly moved, the corners of his mouth slightly upticking.

Catching that slight reaction, Yan Zhengming quickly followed up. “Hey,
you said that Tang Zhen is the Soul-Devouring Lamp, so doesn’t that mean
that all the ghosts in the world are dispatched by him alone, and as long as
he wants to, he can attach himself to whoever, then travel a thousand li in
the blink of an eye?”

He had just been casually lamenting, but as soon as he said as much, he

abruptly became aware of the seriousness of this situation. Frowning, he
started talking to himself before Cheng Qian could answer. “I just
remembered… so, when he was in front of the Ten-Party Array, his constant
attempts to get Han Yuan locked up on Fuyao Mountain wasn’t to flaunt my
reputation, but out of concern that Han Yuan actually would have a change
of heart and tidy up the chaos of Nanjiang’s Nightmare Travelers, right? He
just said that he was hustling a million resentful ghosts over. Where there is
chaos, there will be death; he only fears a world not in chaos.”

In the wake of his voice, Cheng Qian’s unfocused eyes slightly honed in.

“Tell me. Since he couldn’t get the Golden Lotus Leaf from here, would his
next step be to find Han Yuan and them to cause trouble? Copper Coin,
what’s wrong with you? Are you just going to ignore me? You’re giving me
heart problems!”
Cheng Qian slightly shut his eyes, bowed his head to press his forehead
against the other’s shoulder, then hugged him tight with both arms, as if he
was a frozen beast that wanted to draw out some warmth from him.

He was cold by nature, not too willing to be intimate with others. Every
once in a while, Yan Zhengming would want to try being icky-sticky, but
after not even three sentences of stickiness, the other would inevitably get
annoyed. Rarely was he ever like this.

Yan Zhengming was overwhelmed with this favor at first, after which he
carefully softened up her voice. “What’s wrong? Do… you feel upset
because of Tang Zhen? Or are there aftereffects of the soul-painting—”

“It’s not because of him. Senior, do you know anything about Hear the
Universe?” With his face buried in his shoulder, Cheng Qian’s voice
sounded muffled. “The Third Prince had said ‘You’ve all been swindled by
Hear the Universe’. The thing he was talking about… is in me.”

That ear-like mark?

Yan Zhengming was taken aback. “What’s Hear the Universe?”

“An inheritance. A…” Cheng Qian’s latter words trailed off on their own.
He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to use different terms to
expose some clues, but he was bound by a power he could not resist,
originating from somewhere unseen, that prevented him from saying a
single word. His fingers fiercely wrung Yan Zhengming’s clothes, as he felt
like those words were about to explode out of his chest.

Once your primordial spirit is fixed, and the inheritance I’ve sealed is
accepted, you will understand that the inheritance has restrictions, and no
one will be able to speak of the secrets of Hear the Universe… including the
dead.

He hated that he could not let out a loud roar. He had finally been
elucidated on how the Demon Elimination Seal that let the Celestial
Divination Bureau control the major sects came to be, finally learned what
that ‘Ten-Party Pledge’ was, finally understood why Shang Wan’nian had to
make him fully fix his primordial spirit before he could accept the
inheritance, and finally understood why the majestic White Tiger Estate
Lord had constantly avoided the people of the world, living his life as an
old madman…

Yet, those secrets were within Hear the Universe’s prohibition, all shut up
within his mind. He would have to protect them, in fear and solitude, for the
rest of his life.

Yan Zhengming couldn’t understand at first, but then suddenly seemed to

sense something. Reaching out to place his hand on Cheng Qian’s chest, he
proceeded to furrow his brow. “This is… a silencing prohibition?”

What actually was that ear-shaped sigil? Why had it been able to undo soul-
painting? And why had it let Cheng Qian pluck the Leaf without
consequence?

Uncountable suspicions rolled about in Yan Zhengming’s heart, but since

Cheng Qian couldn’t talk, he had to swallow the total sum of his questions
back down, then gently pat him on the back, fearing that he would add to
his suffocation.

Taking a deep breath, Cheng Qian managed to settle himself and feign
relaxation. “Since it won’t let me talk, I won’t bring it up. Tang Zhen… I’m
guessing he’s not going to give up. Since he said that the millions of
resentful souls will react to him, he must had something set up. Han Yuan
might not be able to beat him, but he also might not lose to him.”

“Regardless, we need to get out of here, first. Beiming is like a sea of death.
If we keep sinking like this, we might actually sink to the eighteenth layer
of the netherworld.”

“Sea of death…” Cheng Qian quietly repeated. Suddenly, he recalled

something, placing his hand on Shuang Ren from where it was on his waist.
After shutting his eyes in contemplation for a moment, he let Yan
Zhengming go, sending out a band of swordwill with a wave of his hand.
Yan Zhengming’s eyes brightened. That was a move out of Return to
Trueness in Fuyao Wooden Sword, ‘A Withered Tree Meets Spring’.

This move created life in dead places, making it extremely fitting for this
place. Before Yan Zhengming could praise that response for being very
witty, though, he saw faint sword qi float out from Shuang Ren; it was
gentle, but its wielder’s mood was unfortunately unsteady. The swordwill
failed to fully integrate, quickly dissolving into the seawater, then quickly
dying, not a trace left behind of it.

Cheng Qian tch’ed, lightly frowning. Right when he was about to try again,
Yan Zhengming caught his wrist.

“A Withered Tree Meets Spring says that the path of Heaven leaves behind
a ray of vitality for all living things. With this one, two can be made. Two
can then bear three, and after the three, comes all.”

Cheng Qian couldn’t speak, but the frustration and stagnation in his
swordwill couldn’t deceive anyone, especially not sword cultivators.

Yan Zhengming watched him sternly for a time. “But why does the will in
your sword only have deadness and desolation? What were you thinking of
just now?”

The other stared blankly, unable to explain.

With a heavy look, Yan Zhengming grabbed Cheng Qian’s hand that held
Shuang Ren. “Take a look.”

Unfamiliar sword qi passed through their overlapping hands and went into
Shuang Ren. Yan Zhengming’s entirely distinct true essence instantly wiped
away practically all of that thin frost on the vicious sword that never
melted, revealing its originally-shiny body.

Soon after, elongated sword qi curled out from it, rotating in circles to stir
up the seawater in front of them. Shuang Ren hummed as it vibrated
violently. The formerly-stagnant Beiming water rushed forth in a huge
splash — first forming a straight line, then exploding right there, shooting
out in every direction.

The surrounding water was getting consistently whisked up, one revolution
turning into ten, ten revolutions turning to a hundred as it boiled in their
wake. A puff of flowers from withered wood, bloomed out of nothing,
appeared to grow themselves out of a crack, its life force exuberant,
spreading to the sea’s domain in a wink.

The next instant, the buoyancy they had lost beneath Beiming congregated
once again, and they quickly stopped sinking.

Yan Zhengming still didn’t let go of Cheng Qian’s hand, staring him dead in
the eyes. “This is A Withered Tree Meets Spring. Do you need me to teach
you it again on our Master’s behalf? You’re going to half-kill me by being a
stubborn mule again! Just wait for me to sort you out!”

Cheng Qian didn’t get the time to admit his fault, shouting, “Watch out!”

A loud noise was heard. The stirred-up water swelled, as if to crush them to
death within itself — in danger, Cheng Qian’s general lack of energy finally
disappeared, and he set off body-protecting true essence as quick as he
possibly could. Even with it, they got knocked around.

They then floated upwards at an extremely abnormal rate, picking up speed.

The water around them was already a ball of chaos. For a second, neither
dared to open their eyes.

It was unknown how long they were ‘flying’ through the water. What was
around them suddenly lightened up. After a sharp buzz, they pierced right
out of Beiming’s surface using the sword qi, breaking free of the water.

Yan Zhengming had had quite enough of the Sea’s hardships. The second he
got out, he brought out the wooden sword, not wanting to remain in this evil
ocean at all. After pulling Cheng Qian out, he flew out like a lightning bolt.
“Come on! We’re leaving!”
That abyss and sea walls, once raised to the surface due to the Mystic Site,
had been flattened from the blow-up. Neither of them dared to take a boat
as relaxedly as they had come, flying on their swords a thousand li out in
one breath.

Only then did Cheng Qian find a chance to speak. “Wait until this is all over
to sort me out, okay? — Do you think Tang Zhen is going to go straight for
Han Yuan?”

“When we just entered the Site, I felt Li Yun touch the primordial spirit
sword I had left for him before we left. You know how he is; he would
never touch anything life-saving unless on the brink of death… once we
leave the sea, I’ll probably be able to sense the direction that sword is in.
You’re coming with me to look, right?”

After all that stimulation, Cheng Qian was finally incrementally recovering
his lost vitality, just like how he had when leaving the ice pool back in the
day.

“Where are you going to find the time for that, then?” he asked. “You can’t
be like Tang Zhen. As long as ghosts exist, his primordial spirit can dart
from horizon to horizon at any time. By the time we fly over there, we’ll
probably be too late. On top of that, if we kill a bunch of ghosts, he’ll just
be able to make new ones. That’s useless.”

“What you’re saying is that we’re just going to knock the pot over by
directly going for the Soul-Devouring Lamp? Do you have an idea, then?”

“I’m thinking. Don’t rush me.”

“Hold on, careful!” Yan Zhengming made his sword do a sharp turn in the
air without warning, grabbing Cheng Qian’s shoulder. Shuang Ren let out a
shriek, the two of them coming to a halt at the same time.

Following his line of sight, Cheng Qian saw that there was a gray ghost
floating not far from them. He was gripping a milky-white halo, waiting for
them while suspended in midair.
“Is that one of Tang Zhen’s ghosts?” Yan Zhengming asked. “Is he waiting
here to see whether we’re dead or not for his Master?”

Cheng Qian didn’t say anything, going towards the halo on his sword.

Yan Zhengming swiftly caught up. “Slow down, slow down! These ghosts
self-destructing is no lesser in value than normal cultivators self-destructing
their primordial spirits… what? How is it him?”

Cheng Qian looked solemn. “Liu Lang?”

This ghost was the youth that had always been following Tang Zhen, Liu
Lang!

Back when Liu Lang had been possessed by Jiang Peng and about to die,
Cheng Qian had used his own true essence to nail his three hun and seven
po to his corporeal form, and had also entrusted Nian Dada with bringing
him to Tang Zhen, who was proficient in the path of the soul, to save his
life.

Tang Zhen had given him a life of struggling at death’s door, and Liu Lang,
out of gratitude for his life-saving grace, had been at his beck and call this
whole time devoted serving him, acting as his Daoling, all despite the fact
that he had actually had the same chance to remain on Fuyao Mountain as
Nian Dada did…

“Isn’t this kid…? Tang Zhen is beyond cruel!” Yan Zhengming shouted,
losing his voice.

Cheng Qian tore a chunk of cloth off of himself. Using Shuang Ren as a
knife, he carved out a precise heart-purging charm, then slapped it onto
ghost-Liu Lang’s chest.

This charm could not be mentioned in the same breath as the wrong, half-
finished product he had made a hundred years prior. The second it sank into
Liu Lang’s body, the boy’s eyes cleared up, and even the gray aura about
his face cleared up by a lot, as if he had awoken from a nightmare. He
stared fixedly at Cheng Qian for a short time. “Senior Cheng.”
“Tang Zhen didn’t let even you go?” Cheng Qian rapidly asked. “Do you
know where the Lamp is? You soul shouldn’t be completely refined yet. If
you bring us there quickly, you might be able to be freed before it’s too late
—“

Liu Lang laughed a little. “Senior, it is too late.”

He raised up the light he held, and the ring flew to Cheng Qian like a bird
returning to itsnest. Before it got close, he felt for it — this was the true
essence he had affixed to Liu Lang.

“It was solely from relying on your nail on my soul that I could escape,
Senior,” Liu Lang went on, “and it led me here. I was afraid that I wouldn’t
be able to wait for you, but the Heavens have had mercy by allowing me to
maintain myself until now so that I can return it to its former owner.”

The true essence sank right into Cheng Qian’s palm. Simultaneously, Liu
Lang’s soul was darkening and lightening in turn, looking like it was on the
verge of scattering.

“The Lamp’s form is hidden in the piece of Ice-hearted Fire on Fuyao

Mountain. He split the Fire you had taken into two; one section was placed
into the snowy mountain, and the other was left in Fuyao. The Fire can
isolate all spiritual consciousnesses. Even with all of Fuyao right under Sect
Leader Yan’s eyes, you might not be able to feel that it’s there.”

Finished, Liu Lang’s entire body had since faded into an afterimage. Cheng
Qian instinctively reached out to grab it, but only caught a handful of empty
air with some seabreeze, The youth silently vanished, rose up between the
sky and the earth, then was no more.

The two exchanged a look, and they flew on their swords like meteors
towards Fuyao Mountain.

I sealed up the mountain for him, Yan Zhengming thought to himself, but I
actually did the whole family a favor.
They traversed the Extreme North’s ice fields, once again passing Black
Tortoise Hall and disturbing the bell above it as they flew. This time,
though, no one came out to investigate.

The Hall was akin to an immense shadow, seated like something dead
amidst infinite li of white snow, so silent, it was like no one lived there. One
of its worn banners flew lonesomely in the air, shivering with the cold.

“What’s going on?” Yan Zhengming asked.

Cheng Qian swept his eyes over. “Bian Xu is dead.”

Right after he said that, he suddenly drew Shuang Ren, then sent Gazing
Tide down upon the Hall. A current of black, sky-surging qi viciously rose
up, then got cut apart by Shuang Ren, twisting and writhing in midair as it
seemed to scream, then dissipate into smoke unwillingly.

Yan Zhengming was dumbstruck. “Was that a heart demon given form?”

“I’m guessing that either Han Yuan killed him, or he qi deviated and did
something stupid… either situation is a real headache.”

They practically turned into shooting stars inside this world of snow.

At that same moment, back in Shuzhong, Tang Zhen took in a deep breath.
The seemingly-impervious scales of the arrogant demonic dragon were
exceedingly fragile beneath his palm, looking like they couldn’t withstand a
single blow.

Everything before him was suffused with blood red, temporarily blurring
even his line of sight.

The moment he saw blood, all of his various, carefully-considered

calculations vanished like ash in the wind. He hallucinated that he held
unmatched authority, felt that he had power beyond compare.

This was demonism. There was nowhere he could not waltz through in the
Heavens or on the earth. No rules whatsoever could bind him. Everything
alive was like ants crawling beneath his feet.
He was the perfected expert of the ghost path, all ghosts were part of his
psyche, he alone headed an impressive army…

The Golden Lotus Leaf was destroyed, but couldn’t he just wait for next
time?

Who in the world today could still be his match?

His heart swelled without bounds, finally snared by the instincts of the
demonic path. With blood seen, to say nothing of him, but even Han Yuan,
and Tong Ru… not a one of them could control themselves.

The demonic dragon was covered in bloody fog from having suffered two
heavy hits, but still refused to withdraw. Tang Zhen looked down upon
them. “Don’t you feel yourself to be ridiculous? The effect of a million
resentful souls will be heading for me now. Heaven’s will is coming back to
its original owner. Even if you stop me here, it will be a futile search for
death. Why bother?”

Even at a plight like this, Han Yuan still had a dirty mouth born from seeing
others being smug, grinning maliciously. “I often hear the words ‘upholding
justice on Heaven’s behalf’ hanging off the lips of people from righteous
sects, and every once in a while, I get secondhand embarrassment for them.
I had never expected that there would be a marvel like you in our divine
demonic path, Brother Tang, that would mouth the words ‘Heaven’s will’.
Which seat is your ass actually on?”

Tang Zhen’s giant claw was now half-sunken into his body. Han Yuan
panted a few times, stubbornly maintaining his dragon form, his mouth still
unwilling to spare him. “You… hh… new here? I’ll just have to let you
know… that we of the wayward path saying ‘Heaven’ like that a-all day
long… is what’s ridiculous!”

Tang Zhen laughed powerlessly. “You really won’t cry until you see your
own coffin, will you?”

Han Yuan bellowed angrily, his entire dragon form pushed to its limits. His
flesh and blood seemed to boiling, making him let out a pained growl, but
he grit his teeth and bore it. All his life seemed to be uninhibited and
fluctuating; in reality, it was all him going with the flow, not able to help
himself in the least.

Whenever it came time to move forward, he would instead retreat.

Whenever it came time to restrain himself, he would instead unrestrainedly
advance before he should.

All these years, he had either painfully advanced on the wrong path, or
painfully regretted on the wrong path.

Perhaps some only learned how to retreat and advance appropriately in

desperate situations, requiring a great deal of wits and perseverance.

“The path of Heaven…” he mumbled, “Our Fuyao Sect, since ancient

times, has only walked the path of humanity. What do those dogshit gods
have to do with us?”

All of a sudden, Shui Keng turned into a Red Crane, then charged at Tang
Zhen with no regard for her own safety. She opened her mouth, but wasn’t
sure what to call him; ‘cuckold’ seemed to be an insult to her own self, and
‘dad’ was something she felt him unworthy of.

So, she simply spat out a mouthful of True Fire, burning up the ghosts that
were grabbing Han Yuan’s body.

“Shui Keng, get back here!” Li Yun shouted.

“Get away!” Han Yuan raged. “This is a grudge between us devils! What do
you think you’re doing, you fat mynah?!”

“You’re fat! Your whole family’s fat!” Shui Keng answered, crying.

Tang Zhen expressionlessly turned to her. The ghosts again congregated

into a hand heavy with deathly qi, then grabbed at her wing.

She dexterously glided away in the air, cloaked in fierce flames. Like a
fenghuang making her way through, the bouncing fire singing countless
hovering ghosts. “I’m not a calamity born in a bath of blood!” she yelled at
him. “One day, I’m going to be the most powerful Yao King in the world! I
was born a Red Crane — with no father!”

The corner of Tang Zhen’s eye twitched. The big claw made of ghosts
abruptly disappeared, then re-formed behind Shui Keng without her
knowing.

“Look out!” Li Yun called.

The enormous hand nabbed the Crane’s slender neck. Shui Keng fought
desperately, her fire-red feathers floating downwards as they came off.
Seeing such, a moment of hesitation flashed past Tang Zhen’s indifferent
face, but ice-cold murderousness concealed it soon after.

Right then, a messy-looking bird of unknown species charged forth without

fear of death. A wooden tablet grasped in its beak was spat out, then
fastened upon Shui Keng — Iit exploded with a dazzling white light,
knocking Tang Zhen away.

That was the puppet charm that Tang Zhen himself had drawn two hundred
years ago. The Yao Empress had been reluctant to use it unto her death, but
now, it was returned to its original owner.

The bird fluttered past, stammering out, “E-Empress’s egg, r-run quick—
gkk!”

It got nailed to the ground by its chest from a ghost that had transformed
into an awl, struggled pitifully a few times, and died.
 LY 107

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These idiotic yao cultivators. The brains of their real bodies were only the
size of a bean, and there would only be one thing that they could pack into
them in their lifetimes.

They weren’t like humans, where love and hate filled the chest up full,
everything ever-changing never enough to make use of. A heart could never
be idle, as once it was, it would morph, becoming entirely different in the
blink of an eye.

Han Yuan’s demonic dragon body was pushed to its limit by Bian Xu’s
incessantly-onslaughting Sacrifice, his flesh beginning to implode inside
him. At that very moment, as if to share in his suffering, his own bifurcated
soul hurled insults at him.

“You’re one to talk, you know,” the heart demon mocked. “At the end of
last month, you were making a fuss about wanting to kill everyone in the
world. And now? This month’s moon hasn’t yet gotten full, yet once you
heard that you hadn’t been expelled from the sect, you turned into a sage
concerned about this world. Tch… your face changes more regularly than a
woman’s period flows. The demonic dragon’s flair has been flushed out by
your unpredictable cycle.”

“If any month’s ‘cycle’ could flush you out with it, I’ll find a place to go be
a monk in, and pray to the Buddha plus be vegetarian all my life…” Han
Yuan answered. “Fucking take over for me for a minute! I can’t hold up
anymore!”

The heart demon snorted, then actually did take over as he had asked.

In this short moment, the boundary between his two souls started to become
not-so-clear.

Tang Zhen unfeelingly tossed the bird’s body to the side — along with his
own corpse that had been silent within Da Xue Mountain for many years,
still cherishing that bright red father — like he was trashing refuse from
over the years.

He took back his hand that had been scalded by his own puppet charm, eyes
filled with murderous machinations as he looked at Shui Keng. “How
annoying.”

Immediately after that, he decisively abandoned this puppet-charm-injured

ghost, and his primordial spirit pouring into the infinite surrounding ghosts
at the same time. All of them — horror-stricken and of every age and
gender — widened their eyes simultaneously, each having the identical look
in their eyes that was dense with paranoia. They presented before everyone
like the grotesque scenery of a nightmare.

Li Yun was the first to recognize the danger here. He immediately rushed
over to the yet-unaware Shui Keng on his sword, grabbed the Red Crane’s
slender bird leg, then dragged her to one side in midair like a swinging bag.
At the same time, he opened up the Bag of Hoarding he held, quickly took
out handfuls handful of something, and tossed it out several times in a row,
resembling a goddess scattering flowers.

Before that series of actions completed, the ghost that had been closest to
Shui Keng blew up, still enough to brush past here — if it hadn’t been for
Li Yun’s quick reaction, she would not have died in the explosion, but the
puppet charm on her that could only block one fatal injury would have been
neutralized.
Tang Zhen had completely face-turned, rebuffing his past self in such a
determined manner.

The self-destructed ghost also happened to blow up what Li Yun had

thrown into the sky. For a time, a mess of innumerable, colorful potions and
talismans flew all over the place. Large grasshoppers made of paper fell like
rain in tandem, swirling up into a whirlwind like a plague of locusts passing
through. A huge army of multi-sized insects valiantly cut into the ghost
ranks; they had nearly no attacking power, but they were enough to disrupt
the senses.

Within that interval, a bottle of Petrifying Water spilled in its entirety onto
Han Yuan, and the demonic dragon’s body that was soon about to be torn
apart temporarily turned into sturdy, crackless rock that resembled a city
wall.

Han Yuan suddenly felt cold from head to toe, unable to move at all.
“Which side are you on, Li Yun?!” he roared, steam coming out of every
orifice. “If you can’t help, whatever, but can you not make a mess?!”

Li Yun was towing Shui Keng along in his escape. “I’m helping you hold
up for a while! Why are you yelling?”

“Stone cracks, too! What the hell were you thinking, you bastard?!”

Even with that said, Li Yun was a little self-proud. “Haha, don’t you worry.
That Petrifying Water was made out of heavenly mountain rock, which is
definitely tougher than you are.”

Why was he still hawking his crap?!

“What the fuck am I supposed to do if I can’t change back? Fill in a seat as

‘Giant Worm Mountain’ for Shu from now on?!”

Li Yun sighed, face full of worries. “Gods’ sake, little brother. Just get over
it, will you? You were about to be chopped into a bunch of little pieces.
That you can live at all is pretty great, yet you still have the nerve to care
about what material you’re made out of… ah, how awful!”
Tang Zhen was seen to sweep out his sleeve in rage. A wave of eerie ghost
qi spread out, and all the grasshoppers hopping about in the sky kicked out
their legs and fell, littering the ground with a pitter-patter.

Suddenly, Shui Keng forcibly broke free from Li Yun’s hand, spreading her
wings at an inconceivable speed and rushing for one side of the
mountaintop. Her size increased explosively, bones all over her body
making horrible sounds, form getting acutely stretched out in an instant, tail
feathers elongating over ten zhang out. In the blink of an eye, she shot into
the figure of a fully-grown Red Crane.

She landed upon cut-off mountain rock like an ancient, divine bird
descended, her endless flames whirling upwards with the wind, turning into
a silhouette in the gloomy sky that looked like it came out of hard-to-
articulate folklore.

Li Yun was dumbstruck for a second. Then, he remembered that yao core
with other three thousand years in it, and a chill went from his palms to his
heart. “Han Tan! What did you do?!”

Shui Keng had no attention to spare him. The Yao King’s inner core seemed
to be about to swell her up into a ball, her bones and muscles getting
lengthened without limit. Her immature, half-yao body felt like every cut of
it was suffering the pain of being skinned. She wanted nothing more than to
lay down and roll herself into a mudball.

Wind and thunder surged in the sky, containing power, intending to strike
this little bird that didn’t know the weight of her own barely-there
cultivation to death.

Her eldest brother giving her that core had obviously been him treating her
as a human being. If a human had a hundred years of life experience, they
would expectedly know the severity of things, but he hadn’t anticipated that
with her human skin peeled off, she was still a rampaging, senseless bird by
nature.

The very second a thunderclap came, she had already started to regret her
own moment of impulse, thinking to herself, I was too hasty… I might be
about to die.

She had believed that she would be in pain and fear, but in reality, she
wasn’t. Inside ardent fire and thunder cries, she seemed to sight the corpse
of that little bird yao. I should have died long ago, really. If it weren’t for my
mom guarding me when I was born, if it weren’t for our martial
grandfather’s soul suppressing things by lucky chance when I hatched, if it
weren’t for my Master and brothers protecting me for so many years… I
would have either become a mad and cruel villain like Tang Zhen, or I
would have died long ago.

She felt that her being able to live peacefully to this day had really just been
good luck, and it was enough for her.

Thus, she jumped into Sacrifice’s effect that Han Yuan was blocking.

The overbearing strength of the technique roiled. Paired with the thunder,
the Red Crane, and her raging flames, this looked like a scene left behind
from the old era. The multitude of ghosts went unanimously still for some
unknown reason, as if this scene was evoking memories from the distant
past.

All of a sudden, the near-death puppet charm on Shui Keng’s neck exploded
with a strong burst of light, heroically bearing the blow. The countless
exquisite notches on the talisman had an eye-searing brilliance, looking like
someone had once entrusted their most tortuously-hidden emotions inside
it.

Tang Zhen felt something seem to crack within his heart that had been
deathly still for many years, indicating that the puppet charm connected to
him had come to the end of its life.

His emotions had been cut away long ago, and yet a trifling talisman he had
left in old times had still loyally done its duty, blocking a catastrophe that
should have killed a relative its owner no longer acknowledged.

Shui Keng felt like she had charged through a narrow road full of suffering,
or experiencing the process of her hatching once again.
A gasp of damp air suddenly poured into her lungs, her limbs and bones
extending to their limits straightaway. The three-thousand-year-old core of
the only Yao King that had ever passed of old age in history spun neatly in
her inner sanctum. The Red Crane lifted her head to the sky and let out a
long cry, spreading out her wings that were just starting to grow long like
she was going to vanish the sun and the clouds.

While she screamed, all the ominous ghosts couldn’t help but make a path
for this fenghuang-Hou Yi. True Fire of Samadhi burst forth, wanting to
burn away all the unclean things of the human realm. A huge ring of fire
fell inside the array Han Yuan encased, constantly nibbling away at the
massive destructive force of Bian Xu’s Sacrifice.

Tang Zhen’s temporary bewilderment gradually faded from the faces of the
ghosts, black qi starting to stir in his eyes again. “My relationship with the
Fuyao Sect is quite deep. It’s a friendship, really,” the ghosts said at the
same time, creepily. “I didn’t want to take the lives of you juniors, but since
you insist upon courting death…”

Tang Zhen, encircled by thousands of ghosts, raised his arms. Countless

strings of black qi poured out from the landscape, giving one the illusion
that the world itself stored infinite filth, the slightest bit of wind stirring up
grass then able to raise massive waves.

This contamination of demonic qi made Han Yuan suck in a deep breath.

His own qi that had since calmed down now instantly flowed onto the
demonic dragon’s half-petrified face, his eyes permeating with an
unspeakably terrifying blood-red.

He barely managed to suppress that instinct, struggling to return to

calmness. “All of you, get away! Now!”

The gigantic momentum of this demonic qi was so dreadful, even Li yun

had a moment of actually believing Tang Zhen’s words.

Was the karmic effect of a million resentful souls actually responding to

him?
Could it be that an incomprehensible force actually way helping this devil
succeed, with no regard for right and wrong?

Where had Heaven’s law gone, then?

Tang Zhen laughed crisply. “Do you all really believed that your strong and
wise grandfather was strangled to death by the Four Sages merely because
he accidentally qi deviated? There are so many demonic cultivators in the
world. Why were they never seen hunting them down one by one? I’ll tell
you why Tong Ru’s sin was unforgivable: it’s because Fuyao Mountain
subdues the Valley of the Heart Demon that the pure qi and demonic qi of
the world are able to balance each other out. That ‘Wish-Granting Stone’
was made from many heart demons, and had been subdued on the Tower of
No Regrets; after he selfishly stole and released it, how many wars and
famines have happened? How many powerful people have qi deviated? All
were beget by the implicit influence of the Valley’s seal being lifted these
hundred years… speaking of which, demonic dragon. That your cultivation
base could be refined to this extent after a mere century can be considered
you benefitting from your forebear’s foundation.”

“You bullshitter—“

Li Yun started, but then the primordial spirit sword that had been quiet for
so long was suddenly dyed with a faint swordlight. Sensing the blade’s new
movements, as soon as he looked down, hot tears nearly rimmed his eyes on
the spot, and he suddenly felt like he had a leg to stand on again.

He didn’t hesitate to release the sword, shouting at You Liang, who was
tangled up with a swarm of ghosts. “You, sword cultivator! Take it!”

You Liang grabbed the sword as he heard that. With how powerful Enter the
Sheath’s swordwill was, he nearly felt like he had peeped into a great realm
the second he touched it — letting out a shout, he tenaciously swept the
sword out, sweeping away a large stretch of ghosts blocking the way in
front of him, leaving nothing behind.

Tang Zhen jumped in fright, backing up in a panic. You Liang’s

improvement in equipment let him raise his sword and make a path in
chase. By the time the sword was completed soaked by the demonic qi and
dimmed from stress, the majority of the ghosts unable to get away had been
purged.

The look in Tang Zhen’s eyes changed a couple of times. He stared

malicious at the young sword cultivator not too far away, but his mouth
spoke to Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian. “You were able to get out of the
Sea of Beiming… but what use does that have?”

You Liang’s pupils shrunk.

Tang Zhen raised his level palms, many ghosts emerging from his palm. He
looked at the sword that had already lost its verve in contempt. “Can you
catch up? Can you kill them all?”

Reason told that Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian indeed would not be able
to catch up.

Only when hurrying on the road did the land look so endlessly vast.

Yan Zhengming’s brow scrunched up tight. “Damn. Li Yun just used that
primordial spirit sword on him.”

“There is a way, but I don’t know if it can be done,” Cheng Qian said.
“Swordflight wouldn’t be able to keep up, anyways. It would pretty much
be treating a dead horse like it’s a live one.”

“Wh—“

Cheng Qian speedily reached up to tug on the Sect Leader Seal on his neck.
“The Valley of the Heart Demon, remember? One of the reasons for Fuyao
Mountain’s existence is to suppress it. There has to be a passage to get to
the Valley through the Seal. We’ll walk from there.”

Yan Zhengming couldn’t understand his reasoning. “Walk the Valley? What
do you mean? Isn’t it in back of the mountain?”

“It’s only sealed in the back mountain, when there’s actually nowhere it
isn’t. Wherever there are humans, there are desires, and there are passages
to the get to the Valley. This is an unfrequented region, but Black Tortoise
Hall’s demonic qi hasn’t yet dissipated. Open up the Seal and try it out;
whether it works or doesn’t will depend on fate.”

Knowing that he was limited by the prohibition and couldn’t say details,
Yan Zhengming didn’t inquire as to how he knew this, believing him
unconditionally and using his spiritual consciousness to open the Seal.

In a second’s time, the two of them saw only black before them, familiar
darkness streaming over. Enveloped in the residual heart demon qi of the
ice fields, the vanished from their places.

Cheng Qian’s awareness was briefly lost, but quickly recovered. Someone
was holding him in the darkness, a faint light shining next to him — he
didn’t need to see to know that that was his senior’s batch of night pearls.

The Valley of the Heart Demon seemed different from the last time they had
been here. The demonic qi lingering within it was so thick, it was
practically suffocating, arousing all the negative emotions of those that
walked it.

Yan Zhengming’s heart skipped a beat. Sword cultivators were

accompanied by compelling violent tendencies all their lives, thus forever
making them more liable to suffer from these influences. He forced his
mind to settle. “What’s going on, here?”

Cheng Qian’s heart sank, and he talked as he walked. “You remember how
Tong Ru got the Wish-Granting Stone out of the Tower of No Regrets? He
was qi deviating at the time, but he wasn’t totally mad, since he had made
sure to seal the Valley back up after he took the Stone. Unfortunately,
without that pivotal rock, the seal was definitely not as strong as it had been
at its conception, and we just-so-happened to tear a hole in it when we
broke the Demon Extermination Array.”

In spite of Yan Zhengming’s heart getting incessantly agitated by the Valley,

he still wasn’t stupid, reacting immediately at this. “I thought that we’d be
fine as long as we got out of there! So, Tang Zhen knew as much at the
time… and instead of notifying me, he secretly extracted the demonic qi of
the Valley when he was house at Fuyao Mountain? Right… I was the one
that invited him over. How could I lead a wolf right into my house like
that?”

His rate of speech got faster and faster, speaking to the point of impatience.
Nearly unable to restrain the fire in his heart, he grabbed Cheng Qian’s arm,
fingers almost pinching his skin; with nowhere to vent his irritability that
filled him with annoyance, a faint sigil was almost seen between his brows.
“Damn it! You’re not allowed to leave my line of sight!”

Cheng Qian’s core had entered the Dao. Even if his mental state had been
sent into turmoil by Hear the Universe’s inheritance, he was slightly more
stable that him. Presently not caring to lower himself to the level of his
senior that was in rabid dog mode, he inwardly recited the Scripture of
Serenity as he answered, “If he hadn’t deliberately showing some of his
intentions during Han Yuan’s hearing, and Shang Wan’nian hadn’t brought
up that I’d been hit with soul-painting, who would be on guard against an
old friend? Calm down. To go straight to Fuyao’s back mountain from here,
we’ll need the Seal’s support.”

Yan Zhengming breathed in deeply, then abruptly pushed the Seal in his
hand out. The crowd of dotted stars inside the Seal suddenly showed up,
making it look like the entire splendid silver river of the sky was spread
throughout the Valley, momentarily quelling all the surrounding
commotion.

His mind that was heating up cooled some. It was only now that he
discovered that he had already torn up Cheng Qian’s sleeve; thankfully,
cultivators had body-protecting true essence, and Cheng Qian himself was
much more durable than clothing.

He dryly coughed, slightly awkward. “I… um…”

“You sword cultivators are innately ill, blowing up with one little spark. I
know,” Cheng Qian picked up. “You don’t need to explain. Finding the exit
soon is important.”
Laughing in embarrassment, Yan Zhengming routinely pressed his own
spiritual consciousness into the Seal, speedily scouting for everything
related to the Valley.

However, the Seal’s information was much too complicated. The

consciousnesses of Sect Leaders past were all resonating with him while
issuing uneasiness here, causing him to be unable to make heads or tails of
anything.

At the same time, in Shuzhong’s mountains, Tang Zhen sent his ghost army
shrieking down. The forbidden technique left by Bian Xu rose
unexpectedly, forcing Shui Keng’s True Fire to one side.

In this critical juncture, Han Yuan’s body suddenly flashed. He was, after
all, the demonic dragon, only one step away from being Lord Beiming —
even if Ninth Chain-er Li Yun had also entered the realm of the primordial
spirit, it was not so easy for the Petrifying Water to hold the other down for
long.

The potion’s effect was gradually declining, and if it the petrification was
dissolved right now, Han Yuan would inevitably be assaulted by Sacrifice.

At long last, he quit wrestling with literal material issues. “I can’t hold on!
Li Yun, throw another bottle!”

“I don’t have any!” the other shouted desperately.

After his shout, he shut his eyes that wanted to cry, but held no tears. Shit…
will you still be able to catch up, big brother?

As the petrification on Han Yuan’s body began to recede, the more and
more that unstoppable forbidden technique tore him apart with increased
intensity, blood trails appearing between each of his scales.

While Yan Zhengming’s consciousness was getting beaten black and blue in
the Sect Leader Seal, the eight-trigrams plate representing the blood oath
suddenly flashed on his hand. The oath had been sighed by Fuyao with
Shang Wan’nian, but Han Yuan was the main body of it; he naturally didn’t
have the ability to break it, so this could only mean that he was about to go
see his ancestors.

Yan Zhengming broke out in a full cold sweat, but only the senses of Sect
Leaders were able to come into the Seal. He couldn’t ask Cheng Qian for
help if he wanted to.

At right that moment, Tong Ru, who he had possessed several times before
while in the Seal, suddenly appeared before him. Unlike previous times, he
had the delusion that Tong Ru didn’t look like a mirage or a memory, but a
real person he could see.

Tong Ru’s remnant consciousness beckoned to him, and he automatically

followed.

He saw Tong Ru pass through countless doorways, countless

consciousnesses that extended out to the horizon like smoke, wordlessly
bringing him to a large door with a peerlessly distinct red mark, which was
identical to the Demon Elimination Seal Wu Changtian had blackmailed
him with.

This entrance was concealed, a gap split down its middle. The endless flow
of demonic qi from the Valley was escaping through here. Tong Ru stopped
in his tracks, nodded at Yan Zhengming, and shortly vanished where he
stood.

Yan Zhengming carefully reached, then gently pushed along the crack.

The door banged open.

He promptly drew his consciousness back from the Seal, then witnessed
clouds swirling in the air. The innumerable stars revealed from the Seal
were being sucked into a huge vortex, getting completely wiped out in no
more than a moment as a black doorway appeared in front of him and
Cheng Qian.

He was ecstatic. “Here it is! Let’s go!”

They barged through the large gate, with Yan Zhengming simultaneously
bringing down Fuyao’s mountain-sealing order in his capacity as its leader,
making the entire mountain reappear.

In Shuzhong, Han Yuan had completely turned back from stone into flesh.
He felt like he was being stuck to the ground by uncountable needles.
Nowhere on him didn’t hurt, and the pain was so bad, he went numb,
unable to keep from thinking, I’m at least a primordial spirit cultivator. If I
die, will my spirit return to my home, too?

Fuyao Mountain was getting inundated with a layer of indescribable

demonic qi. The eight-trigram plate on Yan Zhengming’s hand was flashing
with increasing frequency. They flew right past numerous woods and stone
steps, and before their bodies yet arrive, a sword strike came hacking down
from the air, obliterating the guest house and courtyard Tang Zhen had been
staying in. The courtyard’s interior resemble water accumulated after rain,
with a thick layer of dark, insolubly stagnant clouds precipitating. The
heavy bluestone slabs of it were cut away by Yan Zhengming’s strikes,
exposing a big chunk of rock beneath — the cold-outside, warm-inside of
the Ice-hearted Fire of Zhaoyang.

Inside it was a corpse whose chest was shining on and off, as if packed with
a tiny flame — Tang Zhen had actually hidden his true body of the Soul-
Devouring Lamp in Liu Lang’s corpse!

Shuzhong: Sacrifice was stimulated by the demonic qi, viciously busting

through Shui Keng’s ring of fire. Flame-red plumage scattered down,
resembling a rain of cotton. Ghosts were all over the place. The demonic
dragon’s sharp claws were carving straight into the center of the earth; Han
Yuan realized that he could no longer quarrel with him, the two separate
egos within him having, at some unknown point in time, merged into one.

Fuyao’s summit: Shuang Ren, shrouded in frosty sword qi, headed straight
for the Ice-hearted Fire/ Subtlety’s swordwill poured itself straight into the
heart of the large stone via the crack, firmly breaking off a corner of it and
making an opening. Liu Lang’s corpse, upon noticing that its protective
barrier had been pried open, spasmed in terror, then turned into a puff of
black wind, wanting to flee.
“Xiao Qian, stand back!”

Yan Zhengming’s sword came over, its already-presenting Enter the Sheath
like a rotten branch suddenly exposed its hidden edge.

A blade of frost of fourteen provinces, the entire mountain shook for it…
 LY 108

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Tang Zhen paused in midair, the myriad of ghosts freezing in waves after
him. Their faces were blank, at first, after which a subtle trace of confusion
emerged upon them at the same time.

For a minute, many thoughts in his head resembled sparks blowing out in
the wind after a fire had been put out, rising up and falling down in quick
succession, a complete mess.

He simply could not fathom this. Who had destroyed his actual form?

Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian?

But for what reason would they have escaped the Sea of Beiming, then not
directly followed these people’s trail to Shuzhong, but instead go back to
Fuyao Mountain?

Since they couldn’t freely come and go between limitless space as they
wanted, how could they have been able to scramble back in such a short
amount of time?

Who had sold out that his body was hidden in the Ice-hearted Fire to them?

Within the lives of these sparks, he was mystified. It was too late for him to
fly into a rage.

How could this be?

He had clearly trusted no one, and never had he ever had an emotional bond
with any living thing in this world. He was alone, grasping authority over
infinite ghosts… yet even that hadn’t been entirely foolproof?

The ghosts that filled the sky resembled a group of unaware hanged ghosts.
They consecutively stalled in midair. That ghostly and demonic qi curling
about them gradually started to scatter, and then they were individually
washed clean by some pure, unnamed breeze, fading into ordinary souls and
dissolving.

Like a bunch of morning dew that had undergone a night of wind and dust,
they quietly returned to the world, drifting clean and free to their next
destination, brimming with some sort of tranquil and thought-provoking
overtone.

You Liang, gripping Yan Zheng’s primordial spirit sword that had since lost
its vitality, witnessed all of this at close range, and was stunned to the
extreme by the scene.

Tang Zhen’s primordial spirit continued to retreat from the vanishing

ghosts, ultimately forced to merge back into one piece. His powerful spirit
could struggle on after losing his body.

He didn’t flee, perhaps because he was too flabbergasted and forgot, or

maybe it never crossed his mind in his stupefaction.

“It doesn’t make sense…” he muttered. “The karma of the souls clearly
reacted to me. This is impossible… how could something set in stone
change? It makes no sense…”

Li Yun was the first to react. “What are you all staring like idiots for?!”

Shui Keng and You Liang responded immediately — right, this guy was the
grandmaster of the ghost cultivator path, and there was no one in the world
that was more proficient in soul techniques than he. Once he was in his
element, he might be held up for a year or two, but then would use some
sort of unprecedented means to make a roaring comeback.
The sword You Liang held made a sharp sound, sealing off Tang Zhen’s
escape route. Li Yun drew the ornamental sword from his waist, and,
together with Shui Keng, charged at the same time.

Tang Zhen’s physical body had just been shattered, and he was getting
backlashed by the ghosts that were constantly flying away, his primordial
spirit at its weakest point. Not having any time to dodge, he was pierced
through by two successive bands of sword qi.

Stiffly arching his head back, he met the Samadhi fires head-on.

Inside that vicious fire, Tang Zhen’s still-puzzled gaze slowly fell to Shui
Keng.

His memories from before his death came like a returning tide, hurtling
through endless plotting, through his even more endless purgatory-esque
period of contest with the Soul-Devouring Lamp, though that last final
parting…

And ending on one feather.

That feather swayed lightly in his heart. His lips moved slightly, but he
couldn’t say anything.

Some people’s lives were only in either black or white. All the bright colors
were like the brief bloom of night flowers to him — floating for a single
second, and gone once the bloom was done.

With Shui Keng in his eyes, his battered primordial spirit vanished like
smoke.

The path of Heaven was ever-changing. How could its machinations ever be
exhaustively calculated by humans?

Perhaps he had understood that truth, in his final moment.

Like he was in a dream, Li Yun practically couldn’t believe that this sword
of his had a day it saw blood, and even slaughtered a great demon that had
no predecessor, nor would have a successor. He maintained an expression of
matchless astonishment, thinking that he could peel off his armor, return
home, and put this ornamental, pretty-but-useless sword sword on display
forevermore.

While he was unable to orient himself, Han Yuan snarled angrily, “I’m
going to die! Things aren’t done over here! Why are you standing there and
not helping me?!”

Getting shouted at back to his senses, Li Yun then remembered the mess
Bian Xu had left. He landed on the ground from his sword while practically
pissing himself; Sacrifice hadn’t actually weakened all that much, and the
demonic qi Tang Zhen had just summoned wasn’t intending to go away at
all.

Shui Keng immediately turned her head around and re-circled Sacrifice in
fire, allowing the near-death Han Yuan to sigh in relief.

Li Yun took out a handful of pills and tossed them into Han Yuan’s mouth
without demand for money, accurately blocking his voice behind him. Han
Yuan choked half to death on them. Despite wanting to wear his mouth out
cursing him, he had no spare space to talk.

Temporary rest and wound medication allowed his open wounds to slowly
start to close. What a shame it was that the medicine could cure the
symptoms, but not the root. Were Shui Keng to not maintain her guard for
one second, Sacrifice would charge out and put another gash in him.

Having reached this point, Han Yuan finally recognized that he might have
committed too many sins. How soul-melting this feeling of suffering this
death-by-a-thousand-cuts-like pain again and again did not need to be
brought up.

With a wave of Li Yun’s hand, the insect army that Tang Zhen had recently
knocked down to the ground was renewed with life, jumping all over the
terrain to scout for him. The already-broken Demon Extermination Array
and the Spirit-Collection Array Bian Xu had set up for Sacrifice were both
messaged back to his eyes — with Sacrifice completed, the latter had no
present use.
You Liang, a sword cultivator that had absolutely no foundation in array-
making, frowned. “Senior, this is not the way to do it. Even if we all expend
ourselves into human husks, Sacrifice’s power will still likely be hard to
diminish.”

“Uncle…”

A feeble cry came from nearby. Li Yun looked back to see that Nian Dada
was entirely smushed beneath a pile of rocks, his head exposed via him
pulling himself through a gap with difficulty. “I… I-I…”

Li Yun dug him out with total worry, feeling that Nian Dada would
definitely be getting sorted out by his Master later.

Nian Dada crawled out while coughing, covered in dirt and dust. “I know…
that this area isn’t far from Mingming Valley. There’s a stretch of barren
mountain connected behind the Valley. The cliffs there are a thousand zhang
deep, treacherous and uninhabited.”

“How do you know that no one’s there?” Li Yun wondered.

“I fell off during swordflight once. My dad sent the whole Valley out, and
only managed to get me back after over half a month below…”

“Alright, keep your humiliating stories to yourself and lead the way. Shui
Keng, you and You Liang will help Han Yuan defend for a while, and
anyone else that’s still alive will come over and help me. We’re going to
make a Spirit-Drawing Array with the wasted Spirit-Collection Array as a
basis so that Sacrifice’s brunt will be lured to the barren mountain.”

“Hurry it up!” Han Yuan shouted.

As he flew away with a crowd on swords, Li Yun shouted back, “Bear with
it, okay? If you really do get split in two, I’ll put in a good word with our
eldest. Maybe he’ll give you the True Dragon Flag.”

Han Yuan was lacking a dragon skeleton, and had been coveting the Flag
for a long time. Upon hearing this, he became unbelievably peaceful on the
spot, no longer hassling him with obscenities. “Thank you so much, second
brother! Don’t any of you worry, I won’t have any trouble holding up for
half a month!”

Li Yun got goosebumps from getting thanked by him, refusing to turn his
head.

Althought the Soul-Devouring Lamp was shattered, the Valley of the Heart
Demon was still open, and the demonic qi on Fuyao Mountain hadn’t gone
away at all, either.

Yan Zhengming was mentally connected to the Sect Leader Seal, able to
feel that there was yet a consistent flow of demonic qi seeping out of the
passage they had just gone through. “Is that ‘Hear the Universe’ of yours
telling you how to seal this up?” he asked Cheng Qian directly.

“That isn’t something it needs to tell me.” Cheng Qian retracted Shuang
Ren, then turned to look in the direction of the Residence of Peace. “I can
already guess what it is…”

Yan Zhengming stared blankly for a second, then realized what he was
referring to, immediately becoming astonished.

“You’re not saying that we need to take that rock back to the Tower of No
Regrets, right?” His impatience that had been stirred up by the bottomless
Valley had since been mostly vented by that earth-shattering sword strike,
and he was temporarily back to his usual incompetent state. “A hundred and
eight thousand steps, the Tower of No Regrets, going up it… by my
ancestors, you’ve got to be messing with me.”

Cheng Qian gave him a look, showing that he was serious.

Yan Zhengming got a massive headache. “It’s not like you haven’t seen the
Tower before! I was knocked down after going up one step last time! After
we finish with all those stairs, we’ll probably be able to go see our martial
grandfather!”
Had this taken place earlier in time, Cheng Qian would definitely have
refused listened to his crap, taken the Wish-Granting Stone, and gone long
ago. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but he had gradually begun to
realize that that sort of attitude was actually, in Yan Zhengming’s view, a
type of wounding.

All of his lifelong patience was being overdrafted for Yan Zhengming’s
sake. He waited until the other was done whining, then asked without
annoyance, “Are you going, or not?”

Sweeping a queasy look at the pervasive demonic qi nearby, Yan

Zhengming’s shoulders drooped. “…I am.” Saying so, he gripped his
sword, then took the lead in going to the Residence. “We’ll try it out! Dead
horse, living horse, there’s forever more problems than solutions… pah!”

His body’s weariness, mouth’s crassness, and heart’s bitterness were all
depleted within this slip of the tongue.

Upon arrival at the Residence, that Wish-Granting Stone, originally like a

pond of stagnant water, now had a glow inside it that resembled a floating
light. It almost looked to be ‘flowing’, simply having an incomparable
magnetism.

The glow was akin to a lover’s limpid gaze, automatically ensnaring one
within it. In but a short moment of looking at it, he was reaching for it,
slightly entranced.

However, right before his hand touched the stone, he finally remembered
that the ‘real deal’ was by his side, so that hand made a detour to land upon
Cheng Qian’s shoulder in a meandering fashion.

He looped around Cheng Qian’s neck, giving a long, utterly pathetic sigh.
“It’s good that you’re here.”

Cheng Qian didn’t rashly go to touch the thing. He had brought the Ice-
hearted Fire that Shuang Ren had pried open along with him; one end of the
stone was split open, while the other side was more or less intact, once
polished by Tang Zhen. He barely managed to stuff the Stone into it,
provisionally disconnecting the rich demonic qi that was winding around it.
“Don’t mess around. Use the Seal to open the way for me, now.”

Knowing that they couldn’t delay, Yan Zhengming speedily and obediently
opened the passage to the Valley, yet also couldn’t press down his own
dissatisfaction. “Why haven’t you been affected?”

Across the partition of the half-chunk of Ice-hearted Fire, Cheng Qian

shouldered the weight of the Wish-Granting Stone as he took large strides
forwards. “How do you know it hasn’t affected me?” he asked without
turning his head.

Yan Zhengming was startled, hurrying to follow him. “Really? In what way
is it affecting you? If it’s all disorganized and irrelevant stuff, then
whatever. If it’s related to me, can you put on a show of it every once in a
while and make me happy… what are you walking so fast for?!”

“To make your brain dry off a bit with the wind.”

They found the Tower down a now-familiar road.

Yan Zhengming’s crow beak had once again shown off its peerlessly good
looks, as he had hit the nail on the head — there were indeed more
problems than solutions. They tested out countless different methods,
whether it was trying to use primordial spirit swords to send the Stone
higher up the Tower or all kinds of bizarre artifacts, and all of them landed
on air.

The one-hundred-and-eight-thousand steps of the Tower went straight into

the horizon, their height frightening as they looked down upon all living
things, not tolerating the least bit of trickery.

Cheng Qian preemptively ascended a step. All the true essence around him
seemed to evaporate, leaving no trace that it had ever been there at all.
Before he could even come to stand stably, a burst of brutal astral wind
came from the top down, rocking the both of them.
His body-protecting essence already gone like vapor, his limbs were heavy,
like they’d been shackled. It made him feel like he was no different from a
mortal. He drew Shuang Ren and swept it out horizontally; without true
essence, all of his power came from his bones and blood. After the
collision, his wrist was harshly jolted, and had he not had many years of
relentless training in sword techniques, he would not have turned to the side
to shake off the force in time, nearly plummeting from the stone steps.

Yan Zhengming held him up by his middle. “Careful… how do we get up?
Our grandfather had to have been a pack mule.”

Cheng Qian massaged his numbed wrist. “Sect Leader, verbally

disrespecting your ancestors is still disrespect. If we can’t go up, but need
to, what would you say should be done?”

What should be done?

Yan Zhengming’s first answer to that was to haphazardly seal up that crack
and leave this difficult issue for later generations, so in the event that an
apprentice or grand-apprentice ended up being Tong Ru’s sort of talent, they
could be the one to put in that hard effort.

Unfortunately, he still wanted to have some dignity in Cheng Qian’s

presence. That idea sneakily circulated his heart, but he didn’t have the
cheek to express it, only able to sigh and help the other walk up the Tower.

After going like so for only a hundred or so steps, Cheng Qian’s breathing
had since become prominently heavier. He kept incessantly moving his
wrist, its bones cracking like they had suffered injury. Each step he took
seemed to be filled with lead.

Yan Zhengming stuffed the Stone into his own arms as he also seized
Shuang Ren. “Why don’t you speak up, if you’re running out of strength?
From this point on, we’ll switch every one hundred steps! No one needs to
show off.”

With the Ice-hearted Fire added to the Stone, its weight was about a
hundred or so catties. To a cultivator, that was no different from a feather,
but right now, Cheng Qian had nearly stumbled from it pressing heavily
down and almost sapping his strength, cramping his wrist.

He raised his head to look at the infinite heavenly staircase, smiling

painfully. “Without changing back into a mortal, one won’t know how
lacking in skill they actually are.”

Yan Zhengming brandished his sword to ward away a streak of astral wind,
taking the time to glance at Cheng Qian and tease him. “With how
handsome of a Young Master you are, even if you were mortal, who would
be willing to let you do the physical labor of carrying a rock?”

Under that topic, Yan Zhengming didn’t wait for Cheng Qian to answer
before he was already getting proud delusions, amusing himself with ideas.
“If we were all mortals, I’d definitely be a rich landlord, and you, uh…
you’d most likely be a poor scholar.”

“…Why a poor scholar?”

“You’re the type that can only spend, never make. You wouldn’t be able to
resist being a spendthrift with mountains of money. If someone like you
could be wealthy, then the sun will rise from the West. As for me, I’d
probably be a lawless, godless fop. A fop coming across a poor scholar
wouldn’t be hard. No need to worry about anything; I would straight-up
rely on having money and power to get a bunch of lackeys and kidnap
you!” he said like he was completely in the right.

“…”

He felt a sense of admiration towards his senior’s self-awareness.

“After kidnapping you, I’d wheedle, cajole, promise, and threaten you.
First, I’d settle you in nice and give you whatever you wanted, and then, if
you refused to acknowledge your situation, I’d use your family and friends
as blackmail. In other words, I’d pester you all day long with no extreme I
wouldn’t go to. Tell me; supposing that time allowed, would you give in?”
It was like Yan Zhengming was speaking something as true as him having a
nose and eyes. Cheng Qian quietly listened, the melancholy amongst his
features slowly going away completely in the wake of the other’s voice.

Upon this Tower of danger at every step, he showed an indulgent smile.

“Not likely.”

Yan Zhengming was quite rueful. “Ah, right. You’ve been awful and
stubborn since childhood while giving off an air of refinement. You’ve also
got a temper as bad as a rock in a latrine. It definitely wouldn’t be easy to
nab you. Hm… what should I have done, then?”

“If you’d be willing to try out seduction, that might have an effect.”

By coincidence, a slice of astral wind came up prior to the daydreaming

Sect Leader Yan being able to come back to himself after that utterance of
‘seduction’. Sloppily, he used Shuang Ren to block, retreating a few steps
back — one side of him went off-balance and narrowly made him roll off
the Tower, but Cheng Qian luckily freed up a hand to grab him.

Cheng Qian effortlessly took the Stone and retrieved his sword. “It’s been
another hundred steps. Swapping time.”

Then, an inexplicable thought came to him, and he turned to add something

on in the midst of getting full-body goosebumps. “…My beauty.”

Yan Zhengming rubbed his nose in embarrassment. “You dare to tease your
Sect Leader? I’ve really gotten so used to you, you’re about to revolt…
hum. Have you recuperate from that damned inheritance now?”

The smile on Cheng Qian’s face faded away. He went quiet for several
steps, a string of messy clangings from the sword and astral wind colliding
to be heard.

Right as Yan Zhengming believed that he didn’t plan on answered, the other
suddenly did. “In the Da Xue Mystic Site, in order to stave off the soul-
painting, I borrowed your sword qi to break open Hear the Universe’s seal
by force, and accept the inheritance…”
He slightly paused, his following words blocked by the prohibition. He
went quiet for longer still, then whispered, “It almost merged my spiritual
consciousness into it.”

“It? Where’s ‘it’?” Yan Zhengming asked on instinct.

The other made not a sound, holding Shuang Ren’s slightly-shivering hilt.
After fending off astral wind, the tip of his sword revolved around evenly,
drawing out a cyclic circle, after which he raised his head to gaze at the
lightless sky above the Valley of the Heart Demon.

Yan Zhengming instantly caught onto something.

Cheng Qian didn’t even pay divine tribulations mind. What would be able
to fuse with his spiritual consciousness, and swallow his primordial spirit?

Hear the Universe… the universe?

He watched his back, doubtful. Thinking back to that baseless bell sound he
had heard through the wooden sword, he asked, “The ‘it’ in Hear the
Universe is… the actual path of Heaven?”

As per standard, Cheng Qian could not answer.

Merging into the path of Heaven… that sounded like ‘ascension’, but Yan
Zhengming hadn’t detected much anticipation in Cheng Qian’s tone. When
he had just gotten out, the other had even been a little dazed, looking like he
was trapped inside a deadland, unable to return to his senses from a
nightmare.

He recalled what Han Muchun had once said to him when he was young:
“Ascension… is basically death.”

For a moment, Yan Zhengming had the wildest guess: was there actually an
‘upper realm’ for cultivators to ascend to?

‘Ascension’ meant ‘cultivating until awakened’, which meant ‘attaining the

Dao. So, had those that attained the Dao reformed an immortal realm out of
that ‘upper realm’?
Do those that have attained the Dao also have a distinction between good
and evil, and fighting amongst themselves?

But, when beginning cultivation, regardless of one’s sect, was the very first
lesson passed down by their Master not ‘the Great Dao is formless,
emotionless, and nameless’?

If an individual truly became formless, emotionless, and nameless, their

consciousness merging into the Heavens and the Earth, were they still a
person? Did they still know who they were? Did they remember the love
and hatred they’d had in their previous life? Were they still… alive?

“There’s actually no such thing as attaining the Dao and becoming

immortal, is there?” he asked, voice hushed.

Cheng Qian kept silent. Three strong cuts of astral wind suddenly came in a
row. He flicked his wrist out, making three strikes, the tendons on his wrist
jumping out harshly. His figure, as seen from the back, held an unspeakable
devastation.

For uncountable generations of cultivators, ‘eternal life’ was akin to a carrot

on a string leading them on, binding them in endless, lonely, bitter
cultivation, disallowing them from being productive and fighting over
things with mortals.

The majority of cultivating sects, like Mingming Valley, shielded one party,
accepted mortal’s offerings, or sold charms to mortals. Excluding a few
major disasters, cultivators and mortals had always been at peace.

Those like Tang Zhen, corroded to their bones by the Soul-Devouring

Lamp, would still be reluctant to see blood, on account of the path of
Heaven’s binds.

Those like the Third Prince, wildly ambitious, would even relinquish the
throne for the pursuit of eternal life… though he did end up walking a
nefarious path.
Yet, if there came a day where these cultivators learned that they were just
like mortals, where their end was death and what they sought was nothing
more than an imaginary hope, what would become of those superpowers
that could wield the elements so easily?

Their abilities were unmatched, readily capsizing oceans. To cultivators,

mortals were akin to a group of ants in imminent danger. Nothing existed in
the world that could possibly restrain them, all the nobility and generals of
the human world a joke. The strong would be respected. The collapse of
proper society would be inevitable. How much miasma would this land
hold?

Then… had this been the cause of the forebears of the ten major sects
having sealed this secret into Hear the Universe, signing the Ten-Party
Pledge, and leaving the Celestial Divination Bureau’s existence well alone?

Yan Zhengming had no idea if that all was just his own random thoughts,
but there was no way for him to pursue the truth back to its source, in the
end.

Cheng Qian would never be able to tell.

“How did you struggle free of it later on, then?” Yan Zhengming asked.

Shuang Ren’s snow-bright swordlight lit up the gloomy Tower of No

Regrets. Cheng Qian paused for just a moment as he held the sword,
standing in place with it, and tilted his head to gaze deeply at Yan
Zhengming.

The latter couldn’t help but think back to his abnormally serious ‘thank
you’ from Da Xue, and his heartbeat sped until his mouth was dry.

There’s no need to explain any complex details; you are already my

unbreakable tether to this world of red dust.
 LY 109: Epilogue

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This chapter was suggested by an Advisor Donor.

Within the continuous Shu mountains, Li Yun’s exceptionally enormous

Spirit-Drawing Array took a full ten days to arrange.

Its set-up had been no different from ditch-digging. The entire time, he
hadn’t dared to make a single mistake, out of fear that one bad part would
cause disaster for the region.

Anyone in this group still able to breathe had all been run around in circles
by him. Some had lead the way, some had gone to search for spiritual
stones all over the place, some had helped compute the arrangement of the
array. After the passage of ten day, they were all spent, to say nothing Han
Yuan and Shui Keng, who had been taking turns holding off Sacrifice.

All of the pills the group had had gone into those two’s stomachs.

When Shii Keng had just swallowed that yao core, she had felt that the
thing was going to make her burst. Now, though, she thought that three-
thousand years wasn’t of any use at all — she needed thirty-thousand!

The second Li Yun declared that the array was finished, Han Yuan could no
longer maintain his dragon form, instantly turning into a human and
collapsing into a half-dead, paralyzed heap on the group. He had expended
too much, the deathly aura of an incurable illness nearly coming off of his
face.
Even so, this devil that was on death’s door stubbornly reached out a paw
and desperately grabbed Li Yun’s foot, his breath like gossamer. “Don’t…
forget… the Flag…”

Li Yun didn’t have the spare time to openly mock him, immediately peeling
his shoe off and going up on his flying sword with one bare foot.

He flew like the wind, tense beyond compare while he followed along
Sacrifice’s path as it whizzing through the Spirit-Drawing Array. His
originally-abundant Bag of Hoarding had been dumped clean for this thing,
all of his spiritual items and talismans completed used up, but even so, he
had still underestimated the technique’s strength.

It nearly leaked out of the Array several times. At each occurrence of a

rupture in the array’s workings, this group of cultivators would go into an
uproar like burlaks on a riverbank, swarm up, fix it, and block it up. With
how this work looked when it was in full swing, it was like they were
making huge ditches in the mountains of Shu.

The White Tiger elder had been injured by the ghosts, messed up to the
point that he didn’t look like a person, yet persisted with charging forwards
on the very frontlines. He crouched on his sword in the sky with both arms
resting on his knees, mouth agape and neck stretched out as he witnessed at
close hand how Sacrifice flowed downwards like a flood. In passing, he
caught Nian Dada, who was about to run into him like a headless fly, and
set him to the side, mumbling, “We actually did it…”

Seeing this, Li Yun immediately issued a signal from the distant and waved
like his life depended on it, ordering everyone that was on a flying item to
get down.

The next moment, the boom of splitting earth rose up from the level ground,
and all the people that were still stupidly parked in midair were effected by
it, stumbling off their weapons in succession.

This Sacrifice seemed to contain immeasurable grudges, rages, enmities,

and despairs, flowing down from the high cliffs at a slant. Like a river of
stars overturns, it landed on the ground and became a lake, gurgling and
shifting, razing countless barren mountains flat. The original landmass was
completely unrecognizable, its unfathomably deep precipices displaying
vicious grooves.

Gods…

The shaking of the land caused by Sacrifice took a full day and a half before
its dust settled. Li Yun had his shoeless foot raised in a golden rooster pose,
blankly mumbling, “That you could block this for even a second… Han
Yuan, you’re a pretty promising punk.”

Han Yuan, on his last breath, did not answer, looking like he had already
suffered the loving caress of his dead ancestors.

“What’s wrong with him?” Shui Keng anxiously asked.

Li Yun leaned over to size Han Yuan up for a short bit, then shook his head.
“Oh, dear. Looking at you like this, I might not be able to get that True
Dragon bone for you. You’re lacking a dragon skeleton, yet are already like
this; if you actually do get one, wouldn’t you overturn the sky?”

The formerly near-death Han Yuan immediately came back to life at that,
beginning to struggle like the rays of a setting sun and doing all he could to
throw that shoe he had at Li Yun. “You wouldn’t dare! We’ll be enemies for
life!”

The Estate elder, ever with free hands, contacted a few major sects in
Shuzhong, including Mingming Valley. The sects knew right from wrong;
the very next day, they all sent various wound medications and
supplements, and the group rested in Shuzhong for over half a month before
continuing southward.

Aware that he had helped clean up Tang Zhen and Bian Xu, after his
recovery, Han Yuan became all the more cocky, taking the initiative to
efficiently slaughter in warning a couple demonic cultivators that had the
gall to rebel on the road. By the time they reached Nanjiang, the demons
that had gotten disloyal due to the deaths of the Nine Sages were basically
already intimidated by Han Yuan, quickly going dormant.
“That area up ahead where miasmic qi is blocking the road is where the
Nightmare Travelers are,” Han Yuan said. “You righteous sects aren’t
welcome here. Scram.”

Shui Keng stuck her neck out from behind him, very curious about the
highest den of demons in the land. “Brother, are you demonic cultivators
the type to rob wealth and beauties?”

“Yeah.” Han Yuan looked at her, sneering in full contempt. “But we only
steal human beauties, not birds with long tailfeathers. You don’t need to
worry.”

She wrathfully spewed fire at the back of his head.

“Don’t forget to deliver the True Dragon Flag to me.” He waved his hand to
dissolve her little fireball, then he strode towards the hideout of the
Nightmare Travelers.

With one flick of his sleeve, a huge mountain gate appeared out of nowhere,
the word ‘Nightmare’ boldly inscribed on it the spitting image of a monster
with a bloody, gaping maw. Dark and eerie demonic qi floated up and down
and fused with the miasma of the forest, making this look indescribably
sinister.

A blood-red, eight-trigram diagram flew out of his panlong robes’ tattered

sleeve, smacked right next to’ Nightmare’, and immediately left a sigil of
bloodied qi on it.

The bloody symbol was like a drop of oil going into boiling water. In short
order, countless pairs of prying eyes rose and fell within the Valley of the
Nightmare Travelers, cautiously observing the returning devil.

He wore clothes as ragged as a beggar’s, but his gait was like a regent’s that
was returning to his court, his figure gate-crashing the demons’ native land
without a care.

Pitifully, that was ruined after no more than a few steps. Shui Keng, who
had just wanted to roast him into a husk, suddenly felt empty-hearted again
upon seeing his retreating figure, and couldn’t help but loudly cry out,
“Brother! We’ll come find you to play later!”

“…”

Play, my ass, Han Yuan thought, gritting his teeth. You lost me face.

An enormous dragon silhouette flashing behind him, he dove headfirst into

Nanjiang’s miasma like the Azure Dragon entering the sea, and didn’t look
back.

He would be standing guard here for all of his life.

The group went their separate ways from here. You Liang, who had finished
the funereal rites of the Bureau, had nowhere to go — Li Yun went along
with Yan Zhengming’s promise to Wu Changtian, deciding to bring him
back to Fuyao Mountain.

In contrast, after reporting as much, Nian Dada went to the East Sea alone
to look for Nian Mingming’s reincarnation.

However, wasn’t finding an unremarkable infant boy amongst this sea of

people something easier said than done? On top of that, Han Yuan had only
told him a general direction, nothing precise.

Nian Dada spent several days wandering about the East Sea’s vicinity.
Refusing to back down, he thought to find a place to stay in for a time and
slowly scout around.

Pretending to be a mortal, he sought people out to inquire after cheap places

to lodge, then was led by a fisherman to a very remote area on the East
Sea’s shore. There was a wolfberry tree that was so big, it would turn into a
spirit soon; its branches stuck out at random, seeming like they had sky-
reaching ambitions, and it had rows upon rows of hanging fruit as red as
blood beads. Beneath this tree sat a small, worn-down courtyard.

A few large rocks near the entrance made up a pigpen. Beside the entrance
was a couplet pair; the left said ‘Three coins a night’, and the right said
‘Stay or piss off’.

Nian Dada was subdued by this overbearingness. It took a long time for him
to shyly knock on the door, and he dared not do it loudly, just like a
scratching mouse.

Following a good deal of scratching, no one answered. He was about to

leave, only to hear a creak as a burly man came out from inside. He was
obviously mortal, yet his entire being had an aura that was majestic, but not
violent.

The beefy guy glared at him. “Have you not eaten your fill? You’re not
going to give a real knock? Are you staying, or what?!”

Nian Dada was pressured by the unspeakable bearing of this mortal. “Y-
Yes, S-Senior… I’m staying,” he blurted.

“Senior?” The man raised a brow, voice like a gong. “Huh. All that messing
around, and you’re a cultivator. I’ve never seen such a good-for-nothing,
useless one like you before. Pay and get in here!”

Nian Dada dared not have a hint of objection, smoothly getting in.

It wasn’t until he had stayed in the East Sea for over two months that the
demonic qi over the land slowly settled, then vanished.

The one-hundred-and-eight-thousand steps of the Tower of No Regrets had

forced two superpowers of the modern world to trudge through it for right
about a whole three months.

The two had uncountable wounds of all sizes on their bodies. At this
moment, even Cheng Qian, the second he caught sight of the top, couldn’t
help but stumble, nearly landing in a kneel.

This had been way too hard. Shuang Ren’s swordlight had been worn down
into dimness. He pretty much wanted to roll straight off of here — he had
no idea how Tong Ru had managed to ascend back in the day.
The Tower was empty, quiet, and somber. Yan Zhengming suddenly
stopped in his tracks from where he was walking in front.

“What is it?” Cheng Qian asked hoarsely, exhausted.

“Come and look.”

A footprint was seen on the Tower, inundated with blood. As of now, the
bloodstain betrayed the color of old rust, but had still been faithfully
preserved by the Tower, having not faded for centuries.

Just from seeing this shocking footprint, one could imagine what the scene
of Tong Ru barging in alone had been: as one foot tread upon the Tower, the
other was still on the stone steps, his body full of wounds.

He must have been at the end of his trajectory, weakly supporting himself
on his knees with heavy hands, in order to leave such a serious footprint
behind.

When he had exhausted the very last of his strength to look up at the
dazzling Wish-Granting Stone, had it seemed like he was seeing an out-of-
reach dream?

No one had taken turns holding the sword and defending each other with
him. He had been alone, burdened with impetuous thoughts, having
nowhere to relay them. Under the dual interrogation of his heart demon and
his conscience, he had turned his back on the mortal realm, stepping on
blood.

Thinking as such, even though his juniors knew well that he had qi deviated
out of selfish desires, thus attracting many calamities, they suddenly
couldn’t criticize him.

The original impression of the Wish-Granting Stone was still there.

Subsequent to a short moment of rest, they withdrew it from the Ice-hearted
Fire in a flurry of limbs.
The Stone acted like it was alive. Given that it was gently pushed, it would
return to its rightful place, then settle in seamlessly. The light flowing inside
it went stagnant for a moment, the demonic qi eternally coiling around it
seeming to turn into a handful of fine ash, which quickly disappeared.

Not a speck of dust tainted the Tower, and not a talisman was seen, yet it
still gave one a sense of extreme silence. All the various types of excessive
hopes and ambitions in people’s hearts could automatically be quelled upon
coming here, returning one’s behavior and nature to purity.

Trudging up those one-hundred-and-eight-thousand steps was like the

ending to surviving one-hundred-and-eight-thousand calamities.

Cheng Qian heard those complex cries, shouts, laughs, and roars all get far
away from him, like a dream that he had been submerged in for years had
reached its end, an unprecedented clearness in his mind, like he was once
again hearing the distant path of Heaven in the universe again.

His legs were a bit numb, feet staggering beneath him, so he simply
followed his instincts and laid on his back, listening to the surrounding
chaotic heart demons gradually calm and become meek. He felt like he
didn’t have a single bit of energy

Yan Zhengming was not any sort of better of than he was. Putting the
majority of his weight onto Shuang Ren as he leaned on it, he stood there in
a blank daze. “Back when Tong Ru made a wish on the Wish-Granting
Stone, he was willing to make a million resentful souls as a sacrifice…
what now, then? What happened with that?”

Cheng Qian shut his eyes, answering almost inaudibly. “Nothing happened.
The Stone didn’t actually grant him his wish, now, did it?”

The bloodline of Fuyao was still cut off. Master Muchun was still dead.

Thus was why people had severed all ties and left, one by one, and the
human world had still been dragged into drawn-out chaos…

…coming to a rest only just today.

The calamity had been like an inferno raging across fields, unfeelingly and
unstoppably crushing what it passed, everything ruined into ashes.

Only tender sprouts yet silently burgeoned in the spring wind after the
deathly stillness went by.

‘A Withered Tree Meets Spring’ was like a beginning, and also, perhaps, an
ending.

Yan Zhengming stood there quietly for a while. “After we get back, take me
to the Valley of No Worries when you have the time. I kind of want to see
Master and our martial grandfather.”

“You want to go and show off to them how you’ve pulled against a wild
tide this past century and made the majestic achievement of revitalizing the
sect, right?” Cheng Qian blabbed.

“…”

The sensation of being seen right through by his junior… was pretty
uncomfortable.

Shamed into anger, he raised his leg and gave Cheng Qian a kick. “I told
you to lead the way, so lead the way! Why are you talking so much shit?!”

Unfortunately, this planned trip was doomed to disappoint.

Two months later, Yan Zhengming held a ‘Blindfold Leaf’ in his mouth,
struggling to conceal his own ire as he hurried to infiltrate the Valley of No
Worries at the split second of dusk with Cheng Qian. The two passed
through ghostly creatures the whole journey, then found Tong Ru’s burial
site down a familiar path.

However, the bones that had been there were not seen.

They searched the site several times over, finding nothing. Cheng Qian
almost suspected that they had remembered the wrong spot, until he finally
dug out a copper coin spotted with corrosion from under the giant tree.
Then, he remembered that Tong Ru had said that they likely wouldn’t be
able to meet again the next time.

In all likelihood, the man’s penance term had probably been fulfilled, his
heavy sin redeemed, and he had finally gone to be one with the land and its
greenery.

By dawn, they left the Valley on the same road they had taken. After
spitting out the Blindfold Leaf, Yan Zhengming asked, “Have their souls
scattered?”

Cheng Qian thought it over. “It would be better to say that they ascended.”

With a thought like that, the heart suddenly felt at ease.

The translators says: There you have it! As far as I’m aware, no extras exist, so this is it. (If I’m wrong, I’m sure someone will
tell me lol)
I need to go through and mass edit + proofread as of this writing, after which I’ll throw what I’ve done into digital versions and
call it a day, same as FW.
I can’t imagine things didn’t get confusing with 4 different translators, one of which was a Vietnamese re-TL… this is also a prime
example of why I decided that I would only ever start from scratch on my own, non-‘suggested’ projects; trying to remember
terms other people made up and sticking with them is hard, yo. If there’s enough demand for it, I’d be happy to do my own full
version of Liu Yao, someday. Until then, off to new horizons! See you around.
Liu Yao Extras 1 + 2: Table of Contents

Extra 1: Records of Fuyao Mountain

(1) Boss Wen and the little fatty

(2) Portraits

Extra 2

Find me on twitter (@dartintegration) to scream about liu yao!!! This is just

something I did for fun/practice please lmk if there are any glaring mistakes
u can dm me on twitter or something
Extra 1: Records of Fuyao
Mountain
 (1) Boss Wen and the little fatty

Half a year later, Nian Dada said his goodbyes to Boss Wen, paid for his
lodging, and prepared to return to Fuyao Mountain. Boss Wen’s full name
was Wen Jing, and he was the owner of the shoddy “Three Coins a Night”
inn. He was born with large shoulders and a round belly. In his youth, he
had served as an escort, and he had a vigorous air of the jianghu about him.
In one meal, he could eat eight large steamed buns.

There was no sense of parting grief in their farewells, because

accompanying them was a third little friend who was really too good at
causing a ruckus.

This little friend was not yet three feet in height, and had just grown in his
baby teeth. At first glance, he was about as tall as he was wide; if he were to
encounter a steep slope, he wouldn’t have to waste energy walking—he
could just roll on the spot. At present, he hugged onto Nian Dada’s leg,
painfully howling and crying: “Mom … Mom don’t go!”

This little friend had countless “moms”, male and female, old and young,
out of which one was his true biological mother and the others he
recognized himself—whoever gave him food, he would call them Mom.

Boss Wen covered one ear and roared at Nian Dada: “Didn’t you say you
were here to find someone? Well, here’s someone … oi, you, think of a
way, stop this fucking thing from howling!”

Nian Dada strained his throat to try to cover the brat’s piercing cries and
yelled: “Give him a piece of candy!”

Boss Wen replied: “Where the mother of fuck am I supposed to find a piece
of candy?”
Saying this, he furiously went into the house, turned up a braised duck neck
from the kitchen, and roughly stuffed it into the little fatty’s mouth: “Eat up,
eat up!”

The little fatty moved his mouth; tasting some flavor, he suddenly had no
more interest in Nian Dada. Squatting to the side, he began to chew quietly.

Boss Wen cast an annoyed look at the little fatty, asking: “He can’t be the
person you’re looking for, right?”

Nian Dada had a face full of shame.

Boss Wen: “Right, I heard you cultivators pay attention to reincarnation

cycles. But your Daoist friend didn’t practice the Big Belly Magic
Technique in his previous life, right?”

Nian Dada: “……”

Not really …… but not too far off.

The reincarnated practitioner of the Big Belly Magic Technique gave Boss
Wen a toothy grin without a care in the world. Dangling the duck neck in
his mouth, he toddled over, turned his face up, and shouted clearly: “Mom!”

Boss Wen gave a poker face and replied: “Scram!”

After he finished scolding, Boss Wen suddenly seemed to feel a bit

emotional and said: “Speaking of reincarnation, ever since I began to
understand things I’ve gone to quite a few places. Wherever I went, I
always felt that I was missing a little something, until I came to the East
Sea, and suddenly I feel as if I’ve arrived home …… they say that a
hundred years ago a lot of cultivators came to the East Sea to live. Say, do
you think I might be someone’s reincarnation too?”

Hearing this, Nian Dada asked tentatively: “Does Boss Wen also have
intentions of seeking immortals and asking for a path? Why don’t I refer
you ……”
“Heh, I’m just saying,” Boss Wen waved his hand, casually petting the little
fatty’s bald head. “I feel that even if I were a cultivator, I wouldn’t be a very
good one; I’d still want to open up a little inn and be the boss, just like right
now. Cultivating this and that is just a load of crap—alright, that’s enough.
I’ve pinpointed this ancestor for you, you should go now, see you around.”

Nian Dada cast a heavy glance towards the little fatty. Eventually, he didn’t
say anything and left alone.

He had originally entertained the thought of taking back Nian Mingming’s

reincarnation, but that little fatty would never have to worry about food or
clothing in this life, with two parents, mixing into the city streets like a fish
in water. Suddenly, he felt it a bit meaningless.

When it came to Nian Mingming, flying to the heavens and disappearing

into the earth, would not be as enjoyable as squatting on the ground
chewing on a braised duck neck, would it?

Why bother him?

-
 (2) Portraits

That being said, after all the dust had settled and everyone returned to
Fuyao mountain one after another, things finally settled down. Yan
Zhengming ordered people one after another to bring some items over from
the Fuyao Estate.

Clutter accumulates as time goes by. Sect Leader Yan originally wasn’t a
super organized person and didn’t even remember what mess of trinkets he
owned. He was too lazy to clean it up, so he ordered Cheng Qian to do it. In
the end, Cheng Qian toiled for a long time and turned up a dozen portraits
—his own.

Back then, Yan Zhengming had drawn countless portraits of Cheng Qian.
Most of them were destroyed on the spot out of sadness, but there were
many portraits and some were bound to slip through the net, so in the end
there were some left.

The more Cheng Qian looked, the more he liked them, and silently
collected them for himself. He then remembered, Tong Ru shizu hadn’t had
time to leave a portrait; shifu had one, but it was destroyed by himself; not
to mention his shibo Jiang Peng, who had been a tragedy from beginning to
end. Thus there was this issue, and he wanted to fix it for his ancestors.

Cheng Qian was very skilled at calligraphy, but not very good at painting,
so he went to ask Sect Leader shixiong to do the job.

Upon hearing this, Sect Leader Yan reservedly hooked his finger towards
Cheng Qian, telling him to come over. With a dignified gentlemanly look,
he raised a whole slew of unreasonable and indecent conditions,
demonstrating to Cheng Qian a practiced performance of a beast in human
clothing.
Cheng Qian immediately decided to let him go cool off and mind his own
business, and promptly kicked the sect leader out of Qing An Residence.

In the end, he had no choice but to make do and find second shixiong. Li
Yun gladly agreed, and brought with him a little shimei who wanted to join
in on the fun. They went to the second-to-last story of the Nine-Storied
Library to splash ink.

In this time, the industrious little shimei rolled up her sleeves and
thoroughly began sweeping away the accumulated dust in the second-to-last
story, shaking out every portrait of the ancestors so that they could be
cleaned.

Suddenly, Shui Keng yelled out surprisedly, “Yah, second shixiong!”

Li Yun was working on the paper according to Cheng Qian’s descriptions,

painting in full swing. Without raising his head, he replied: “What’s up?”

“You’re in the painting! Little shixiong, come look!” Shui Keng unrolled a
portrait that had been yellowed with age. The ancestor on the painting was
slovenly in appearance, with unbound hair, showing a pretty white face with
clear eyes. Those facial features were clearly Li Yun’s in life.

Cheng Qian looked again. Under the portrait was written clearly: Wen Zhu
zhenren, joined Fuyao sect in x year x month, a disciple of x generation.
The man was clever and skillful, proficient in unorthodox ways. His way of
entering the sect was unique, unknown until now; because he had a pair of
Nine Rings with him, he is said to have entered the dao with the “Nine
Rings”.

In the inheritance of Fuyao Sect, that elder had discussed with Yan
Zhengming that there had once been a Fuyao ancestor who “entered
the dao by way of the Nine Rings”, and even gave that ancestor’s manual to
Li Yun.

So……it was just returning it to its original owner?

After all this fuss, throughout history there was only this one Nine Rings
person.

This “one Nine Rings person throughout history” finished painting several
masterpieces, which were seen by one Yan Zhengming who had heard the
news and was passing by.

Yan Zhengming watched for a long while, giving a fair evaluation: “Second
shidi, go rest for a while. Don’t deceive your masters and destroy your
ancestors anymore.”

Li Yun was not satisfied and continued to wave about the reds and greens of
history, painting a Han Yuan who was all the way in Nanjiang. One Mid-
Autumn Festival, he brought it over and excitedly showed it to Han Yuan.

After he finished looking at it, Han Yuan felt that their former good
relationship as classmates was properly destroyed, and was also pissed that
he had been tricked and at present had still not received the True Dragon
Bone. He promptly decided to combine old and new grievances,
murderously chasing Li Yun all the way to the Nanjiang border …… oh,
but that’s a story for later.
 Extra 2

One day, Nian Dada and You Liang were repairing tables and benches in
the Hall of Ignorance when they saw their second shibo speeding down
from the top of the mountain like a runaway wild dog, twisting and turning,
yelling: “Don’t chase me! I’ll go into seclu …… seclusion ……”

Nian Dada and You Liang looked at each other blankly, not knowing what
the hell was “secluseclusion”.

His cries lingering in the air, Li Yun had already nyoomed into an unnamed
cave halfway up the mountain. Casting his hand backward, he activated the
seal over the opening of the cave. One could really say he was quick of eye
and nimble of hand.

Who knew that the next moment, a tyrannical sword glare would shoot
down from the sky, decimating to pieces that seal left behind by an
unknown predecessor—the seething mad Sect Leader Yan had shown his
murderous side.

With a face full of admiration, Nian Dada elbowed You Liang, saying in
awe: “My gosh, your shifu is so powerful.”

You Liang: “……”

He actually thought that he and Nian Dada should switch teachers. This
way, neither of them would seem like they entered the sect all wrong.

The ruthlessly chased Li Yun fled in a hurry while yelling and howling:
“SHIFU!!! DASHIXIONG IS GONNA KILL ME!!! OPEN YOUR EYES
OLD MAN AND TAKE A LOOK, YOU LEFT TOO EARLY, NO ONE’S
HERE TO DISCIPLINE HIM!!! NO ONE DOES ANYTHING FOR THE
DISCIPLES SO NOW HE’S COVERING THE SKY WITH ONE HAND
…… HEAVENS ABOVE AAAAAA SAVE ME
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!”

Nian Dada was struck dumb, his mouth hanging open. This was the first
time he had heard such a systematic wailing.

You Liang had a feeling. He raised his head, seeing a red shadow flash by in
the mountain forests. Their little shishu Shui …… no, Han Tan glided
quietly with the white cranes, taking a familiar route to a convenient hidden
location to watch all the drama without being swept into the hullabaloo.

How many times must the tragic experience of “innocent bystanders being
caught in the crossfire” have occurred for her to gain such experienced
insight?

You Liang was quite calm and clever, immediately deciding to imitate the
elders. He pressed Nian Dada’s head down and quickly shut the gates to the
Hall of Ignorance. One up and one down, the two peered out the gaps
surrounding the doors.

This matter could be said to be a long story—all in all, it all started from
when Li Yun drank too much and started talking crap, and his being chased
and beaten was not at all unjust.

A few days ago it happened to be the Mid Autumn Festival. Except for
Cheng Qian, who did not consume alcohol, more or less everyone drank.
Cheng Qian was with Li Yun when he saw a manual discussing various
unorthodox spells, and on the spur of the moment wanted to borrow it to
see. Who knew that once he opened it, out would fall a “bookmark” ……
Time to die! It just so happened to be those instructions for the Heart-
Cleansing Pill that Yan Zhengming gave to Li Yun all those years ago.

Cheng Qian naturally recognized his sect leader shixiong’s handwriting.

Actually, he didn’t take it to heart and only asked about it casually.

Who knew that Li Yun had drunk so much that he couldn’t tell north from
south. He was already acting like a crazy drunkard, and upon hearing the
question, suddenly put on a panic-stricken expression and screamed at a
perplexed Cheng Qian: “Dashixiong!!! Dashixiong you’ve been exposed!!!
It’s not my fault don’t blame me!!!”

Cheng Qian: “……”

He originally simply asked on a whim, but upon hearing this, he would

naturally want to inquire as to what was going on.

And then …… word has it that the next day Cheng Qian went into
seclusion to practice swordsmanship at the mountaintop, not even gracing
the door of the Qing An Residence.

Whomever attempted to go up to the mountaintop to “disturb his seclusion”

would have to mentally prepare themselves to be lifted right back down by
Shuangren. The top of Fuyao Mountain had already become a vast swath of
ice and snow. In a few days, the villagers at the foot of the mountain would
probably start making up such wacky ghost stories as “the Heavenly
Mountain’s wife has died and his hair turned white overnight.”

Yan Zhengming kicked up a fuss, but was not able to do anything about
Cheng Qian, so he resorted to violently chasing the main culprit Li Yun all
over the mountain.

Li Yun: “SAVE ME!!! HE’S GONNA KILL ME!!!! LITTLE SHIMEI!!!

THIRD SHIDI!!!!”

Shui Keng hid in the dense forest, pretending to be dead. Stroking the neck
of a white crane, she said with concern: “I feel like maybe it’s safer to go to
the back mountains and fight in the Demon Valley, what do you think?”

The white crane rubbed against her palm, supporting her plans to go back
and usurp the throne.

Li Yun let out a pitiful roar much like a slaughtered pig: “You heartless
bunch …… Shui Keng!! I’ve raised you since you were in diapers, you’re
not even gonna save me from death?? …… Xiao Qian!! You have the heart
to let this shixiong whom you threatened and bribed bear this kind of
punishment!!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!! DASHIXIONG I WAS WRONG,
I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN, SPARE MY PUNY LIFE
PLEEEEEEAAAASEEE!!!!!!!!!”

Suddenly, Li Yun’s cries and Yan Zhengming’s house destruction both came
to an abrupt end without warning. Nian Dada hesitantly lifted his head,
seeing his perpetually ethereal shifu wielding his sword, standing upon a
boulder in the mountains, coldly watching the loudly unfolding buffoonery.

Nian Dada: “Looks like my shifu’s here to relieve everyone from their
suffering.”

You Liang sighed. “Nian-shixiong, you still haven’t finished writing your
three hundred feets’ worth of charms as punishment yet. Why don’t you
stay a bit farther away from Third Shishu.”

Yan Zhengming, who had been arrogant and unyielding just a moment
before, changed his act instantly, from an icy cold devil to a soft white-
clothed young master. Scrunching his eyebrows, he called out: “Xiao Qian
……”

Cheng Qian looked at him expressionlessly.

Yan Zhengming shuffled his foot anxiously on the ground, but his face had
a condescending, placating air. He gave a dry cough: “Ah, whatever, I
should probably explain it to you.”

Cheng Qian gave a cold laugh, gently sticking Shuangren into the ground
and listening with all ears.

Yan Zhengming stiffly ran his tongue over his chapped lips. In fact, he
already knew the circumstances around that accursed Heart-Cleansing Pill
were clear at a glance, and trying to explain it would only dig him into a
deeper pit.

Sect Leader Yan was speechless for a moment and then finally decided he
didn’t care about face, pointing a finger towards Li Yun and righteously
shirking responsibility: “It’s him embellishing things and adding fuel to the
fire and stirring up dissent! My note was just for him to make some
ordinary pills for myself! Li Yun, you horrible thing, are you afraid the
world isn’t already chaotic enough as it is? Would it be so unbearable to not
be such a thorn in my side for ONE day? Your mind was messed up since
you were little and you haven’t grown up one bit!”

Yan Zhengming did a beautiful job of turning the truth on its head and
reversing black and white.

As he spoke, he very nearly even convinced himself. At first he was still

putting up a bit of a mean front while being weak inside, but in the blink of
an eye he suddenly became righteous and arrogant. He was so righteous, in
fact, that it seemed like this whole ordeal really was Li Yun’s fault.

Li Yun resentfully poked his head out of the cave that had been smashed to
smithereens by a certain sword cultivator and asked: “Is it too late for me
now to betray the sect?”

Yan Zhengming shot him a murderous glare.

Li Yun shrunk back, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.
Going against his conscience, he said: “Right! Xiao Qian, the medicines
that Dashixiong asked me about are all antidiarrheals, to prevent disease
when you’re unsuited to the climate! Totally has nothing to do with the
Heart-Cleansing Pill! It’s all on me …… I- I- I kept talking nonsense, I
don’t know what I’m saying, I deserve to be murdered by the sect leader
…… AiyOoO!”

Yan Zhengming sent a sharp bolt of true essence, which rolled out and
accurately flipped Li Yun off the ground.

The more Cheng Qian heard, the angrier he got, but his face remained calm
and indifferent. He felt that not only did Yan Zhengming not admit to his
wrongdoings, but he had also learned to lie so blatantly.

He was really too spoiled.

Cheng Qian turned to leave without so much as a goodbye. Yan Zhengming

called out to him fearfully: “Wait a moment. Where are you going?”
Cheng Qian didn’t even lift his head: “Answering sect leader shixiong. I’m
descending the mountain to travel for a hundred years.”

Yan Zhengming was dumbfounded. He finally felt that this matter had
finished playing out entirely.

Li Yun and Shui Keng who was hiding and watching from far away were
both dumbfounded. Shui Keng could no longer just merely spectate. Along
with the puffed out white crane, she spread her wings and took flight—if
her little shixiong really were to leave, then there would be no one on Fuyao
Mountain who could tame that great evil demon of a sect leader.

That would be the end of the world!

“Xiao Shixiong don’t go!!” Shui Keng yelled, her voice pitiful.

Yan Zhengming moved his lips slightly, a subtle twinge of emotion in his
heart—he hadn’t raised his little shimei for nothing. Even if typically she
sat around all day doing nothing, she could still stand her ground when it
counted.

Only for Shui Keng to spread her wings, blocking Cheng Qian’s path,
weeping with a face full of tears: “If you go take me with you!”

Yan Zhengming: “……”

This fucking Fuyao sect didn’t have a single decent person!

In the midst of the chaos, a screech suddenly echoed from the back
mountain. For a moment, everyone was stunned, and didn’t have the heart
to keep fighting.

Cheng Qian’s shadow quickly rose and fell a few times. In the blink of an
eye, he had already made his way to the peak of Fuyao Mountain. He saw
turbulence in the cave. As the cave shook violently, a layer of white waves
formed atop the normally serene cold pond.

Cheng Qian lowered his voice. “What’s going on?”

Yan Zhengming listened for a moment, muttering quietly: “It looks like
something’s happened in the Demon Valley …… strange.”

At this moment, the waters of the cold pond split into two sides. Zipeng-
zhenren, who had not changed from a hundred years ago, walked out of the
center. This old hen’s two eyes resembled those of a falcon’s, but to the
people present today there was no trace of deterrence.

Yan Zhengming observed her superciliously, waiting for her message. A

cold face that doesn’t seek death or act disgracefully can be quite the bluff.

Who knew if Zipeng recognized the few youths that she had sent flying
with a single feather a hundred years prior. She regarded the nearby Shui
Keng with a complex expression, and then bowed her head slightly, making
a respectful and deferent gesture. She said, “The Demon Valley has recently
experienced a large rebellion. The Demon King is dead, and chaos abounds.
I request the Sect Leader to temporarily seal the cave entrance.”

The news came suddenly, but was not unexpected. The succession of
demon kings was accompanied by bloodshed and slaughter, whomever
killed their predecessor would take their place—they didn’t even know if
the Demon King that had just died was even the same Demon King from
when they had gone to the Demon Valley to rescue Han Yuan all those
years ago.

Yan Zhengming furrowed his brow slightly, standing at the top of the
mountain. In a deep voice, he said, “Thank you for the information. If the
Demon Valley has anything that requires assistance, may Zipeng-zhenren
not hesitate to bring it to light, no need to be overly courteous.”

This speech of his was quite a bit arrogant, giving off the impression that he
didn’t regard the Demon Valley all that highly, but from his words Zipeng
knew that he had the strength and competence.

The current generation of Fuyao sect was not very ambitious, yet had
unprecedented strength. There was a sword cultivator at the “sword spirit”
level, there was one with a half-immortal body forged by heavenly
calamities, there was a Shui Keng who had inherited a three-thousand-year-
old demon pill, the weakest out of them was a Nine Rings cultivator yet he
had already cultivated a primordial spirit …… not to mention, at present far
away in Nanjiang, the awe-inducing demonic cultivator Han Yuan.

Zipeng-zhenren watched Yan Zhengming with mixed feelings. Within the

deep mountains, one could not know the passage of time and the changes of
people. A hundred years passed in a hurry like the snap of a finger. Back
then, Han Muchun was half a foot in the grave; even though he held the
Sect Leader’s seal, it would be difficult to seal away the entirety of Fuyao
Mountain. He had no choice but to set rules prohibiting his disciples from
entering the back mountain. Even when the heavenly demon descended, it
was the not-yet-dispersed soul of Beiming-Jun that had appeared to settle
things down.

To this day, she had merely gone into one long seclusion, yet the world of
people had already changed its sun and moon.

The man before her was arrogant and reserved, with the air of a
grandmaster all about him. There was not a trace of the little kid who had
gotten blown about and tossed every which way all those years ago. In the
end, Zipeng-zhenren only bowed her head, quietly responding: “Many
thanks to the Sect Leader.”

And then, her shadow gradually disappeared into the cold pond.

With such news being stirred up, Cheng Qian’s anger from before was cut
short. He asked: “Will you seal the mountain?”

Yan Zhengming: “Simply setting a ban should be enough. I’m not planning
to head out these days anyways, who would dare emerge from the mountain
cave to be met with failure?”

Hearing such bluster, Cheng Qian finally remembered he was in the middle
of a cold war and immediately rolled his eyes, replying sarcastically: “Oh.
Right. Sect leader shixiong can be as powerful as he wants to be.”

Yan Zhengming suddenly found that he had stepped out of line. With a
heart full of fear and trepidation, yet trying to put on airs to save his case,
he replied: “No …… no! Right! Fuyao Mountain is currently in a
precarious situation, not peaceful at all! The last time there was a
catastrophe in the Demon Valley it cost our shizu his soul, how could you
abandon your sect at such a moment!?”

Cheng Qian looked at him woodenly, then turned his body to leave.

Yan Zhengming flounced after him: “Are you going back to the Qing An
Residence? That’s right! Shixiong even warmed a bowl of plum tea for you
…… in the future, if you have things to say just say them! Tch, I’ve really
over-spoiled you …… Xiao Qian, slow down!!”

Li Yun: “……”

He cursed internally and turned his head to look at Shui Keng, seeing her
stare at the cold pond in the back mountains with a dazed look. He greeted
her: “Little shimei, what are you looking at, let’s go.”

Shui Keng wrinkled her brow, her expression solemn. She seemed to be
making a major decision.

Li Yun’s steps came to a pause. “What’s wrong?”

Shui Keng suddenly lifted her head. She said, “Second shixiong, I want to
go to the Demon Valley.”

Li Yun was dumbfounded, and even the crane raised its head.

Shui Keng said: “I’m a great demon who has inherited the demon pill, so
why must I stand coldly to the side at a time when the Demon Valley is in
upheaval? There are many good people in our demon race, isn’t it tiring for
them to be swept in every time those big demons struggle for power? And
those tortoise bastards who yammer to the high heavens, sitting on their
asses talking about who’s the harbinger of bad luck …… I’m not the
harbinger of bad luck! I’m gonna go over there and show them!”

As she spoke, it seemed as if her body were lit aflame. For a while, Li Yun
was speechless.
Three days later, the entirety of Fuyao Sect traveled to the back mountain.
Shui Keng’s hands were stuffed full of all sorts of charms of unknown use.
Each and every one could be taken and sold outside for a ridiculously
exorbitant price. Yan Zhengming tidied her up, scolding all the while: “The
way I see it you really are too restless with nothing to do. You don’t want to
be a proper person, so now you’re going to be a bird …… if you get beaten
up, don’t come crying back to me!”

Shui Keng responded angrily: “I’m a great demon who’s going to become
the Demon King!”

Li Yun sighed. “What kinda dogshit great demon. Ever since you were a
baby you’ve never left our sight …… ai, grow a bit of brains, will you. If
it’s too much in the Demon Valley just call your dashixiong’s name, no one
in the Demon Valley dares offend a sword cultivator……”

Cheng Qian’s brows had not relaxed once. At this moment, he interrupted
Li Yun’s speech: “Why don’t I go with you.”

Shui Keng didn’t even have a chance to protest when Yan Zhengming had
already squawked: “What? No way!”

A while later, he thought and conceded: “If you go I’ll go too!”

Shui Keng: “……”

In the blink of an eye, her expedition had turned into a family outing.
Suddenly, a massive ghost vulture flew in from the distance, its body black
all over. Letting out a long whistle, the giant bird hovered over the top of
the mountain and eventually descended, eyeing Yan Zhengming warily and
landing on the other side of the cold pond. The dense demonic qi
surrounding its body caused the waters of the cold pond to stir restlessly.

That ghost vulture let out a long call, suddenly using Han Yuan’s voice to
speak. “Heard there’s trouble in the Demon Valley? I’m lending you this
ghost vulture. If your incompetent self can’t clean up those fuckers, then
just die there and don’t come back!”
After delivering its master’s message, the ghost vulture returned to the
sound of a bird. Giving a screech, it took to air, arrogantly landing at Shui
Keng’s side. Subduing its noble air, it bowed before her, allowing her to pet
its distinguished head.

Shui Keng …… Han Tan unfurled two giant wings from her back. The sky
and its clouds shone with the faintest flash of blazing fire. Just like that, she
took the ghost vulture and the various charms from her three shixiongs and
stepped into the Demon Valley.

“I’m going to conquer the world!” Without even turning back her head, she
brought with her a sky full of wind, looking like a childish and naive king.

“Conquer the world my ass, it’s just a little mountain,” said Sect Leader
shixiong. “Get back in time for New Years. Don’t go wild outside and
forget to return home, you hear! Or else I’ll break your bird legs!”

Shui Keng staggered; hair sticking on end, she plunged into the cold pond.

……This conquest of the world, thusly started with an embarrassing

faceplant.
 Liuyao Extra 3

Tong Ru took in two disciples during his lifetime: Jiang Peng and Han Mu
Chun.

Jiang Peng was a disciple of Tong Ru’s late friend. At the request of his
friend, Tong Ru took the boy in; though Jiang Peng was reluctant to
abandon his original Shifu and only became a disciple in name to Tong Ru.
Jiang Peng was a reserved but honest child, a bit naive but never held ill
intent against others. He respected Tong Ru but never became that close to
his new Shifu by name and spent most of his time wandering outside.

In contrast to his senior by name, Han Mu Chun outshines considerably as

Tong Ru’s genuine disciple.

Sometimes Tong Ru would think that if Han Mu Chun’s fate was a little
more peaceful and didn’t go through a rough childhood, perhaps Mu Chun
wouldn’t have become his student. At the very least, Han Mu Chun would
be able to live a decent life as a revered scholar– while this was all just Ru
Chun’s imagination, it wasn’t completely a mindless daydream.

At the young age of 12, Han Mu Chun obtained the honorary Jie
Yuan[1] during the Fall Provincial Examination[2] and subsequently
became a spotlight of his town.

With the recognition, Han Mu Chun was elected to enter the Huishi
Exam[3] the following year; however, mid-way to the Capital, Mu Chun’s
father fell terribly ill. Mu Chun’s mother died when he was still young,
making his father the only family he had. Unable to focus on his studies,
Mu Chun took a few family members along with his bed-ridden father back
to their hometown. As if the heavens attempted a horrible prank, the family
was ambushed by bandits on their way back. Everyone was killed, and as
young Mu Chun was on his last breath, he was miraculously saved by Tong
Ru, who happened to pass by while collecting herbs.

There was a common saying among the people: the wise man always lives a
short life. No matter where he goes, the wise man is always cursed with a
short journey. And perhaps Han Mu Chun was born with this ill fate, but he
managed to take a detour on this predestined path when a twist of fate
called Tong Ru came in. At least, that was what Mu Chun thought when he
looked back on this fateful encounter many years later.

Han Mu Chun became a disciple of Tong Ru and was taken to Fuyao

around the age of 13 and 14. Ever since he was introduced to the world of
cultivation, Han Mu Chun shifted his focus from the Imperial title and
buried himself in cultivation studies. Even Tong Ru couldn’t help but
wonder why this child suddenly became so stubborn about this decision.

Han Mu Chun asked casually while watering his flowers, “You can only
choose between a monk or mortal, why would you try and be both?”

“Why not?” Tong Ru asked.

“Never the twain shall meet, cultivators and mortals are leagues apart from
each other. If cultivators were to mingle with all worldly matters, wouldn’t
mortal lives be like ants in their hands, and the world complete chaos?
Earthly conflict affects us too…we need clothes and necessities like them,
and the mortal people are our sources. If cultivators like us are all self-
sufficient we’d be the same as those mortals and wouldn’t need to cross
rivers or climb mountains to get raw materials to make pots, wouldn’t we
also bring about conflict amongst ourselves like them? Why would you do
that, do you want us all to self-destruct with our greed and tricks?”

Tong Ru had no idea his student had such cosmic concerns for the world, he
almost couldn’t recognize this aloof disciple he picked up.

“So I think,” Han Mu Chun continued as he hummed a tune under his

breath. “It’s a waste of time to get all friendly with each other…and I heard
that ascension happens once you attain great achievement, but I’ve gone
through the Sutras Tower and there isn’t anyone that has successfully
ascended. Hey Shifu, do you think maybe ‘ascension’ is just a carrot?”

“…A what?”

“A carrot! You know the ones that we hang above the heads of donkeys to
make them chase after. If all cultivators are all donkeys with the ascension
carrot hanging above their heads, nobody would have the excess energy to
bother the mortal world!” Han Mu Chun said.

“Absolute nonsense.” Tong Ru finally slapped him on the head as he

listened to his disciple continue with more rubbish. “What happened to the
martial arts I asked you to study? What’s your progress?”

“I even have it memorized backward for you!” Han Mu Chun announced

proudly as he fell into a puddle of fresh mud.

“Your mind is the only thing that is working backward right now!” Tong Ru
responded in outrage. “What’s even the point if you aren’t going to practice
using it, you little rascal!”

Han Mu Chun was a genius but sluggish. His studies were like sharpening a
blade; he always only studies up to the point where Tong Ru would
reluctantly accept, and never put any more effort beyond that. He seemed to
be spending more effort in playing these games with Tong Ru than actually
putting energy into studying.

Tong Ru’s vision of a proud mentor and his prized disciple turned into a
vanishing dream.

Yet Jiang Peng is often not around, so Tong Ru only had this one student in
Fuyao. Tong Ru watched his little disciple grow up, and found himself
unable to be too strict with the boy. Every once in a while he would catch
the little rascal slacking off and scold him a little.

“Xiao Chun, you should know by now that cultivators like us are the ones
who chose the path of hardships. Like mortals, we are restricted by age and
therefore cannot afford to waste time in our training. The human potential
for cultivation does come in a wide variety and you are surely among one of
the blessed; however, you’ll learn as you age that luck and devotion are
actually much more important than natural potential.”

Han Mu Chun kept his smile and cordially passed a cup of tea. “Shifu, your
tea.”

Tong Ru saw his lecture got sent to the void and picked up a book on the
side. He didn’t even pick up the teacup and mercilessly slammed the book
on Han Mu Chun’s head. “Sucking up now, what new philosophical
literature taught you to become such a child?”

Tong Ru doesn’t hit hard, and Han Mu Chun only pulled his neck back a
little in response. “Studying isn’t even because I like to study” Mu Chun
smiled back. “I really just wanted to be a normal gardener, but my dad
always had a weak body and always says he might not live long enough to
see my success. That’s why I wanted to at least bring an Imperial title back
for him so that he won’t need to worry…and now that my father’s gone, my
only family is you, Shifu.”

Han Mu Chun’s gaze fell onto the teacup, light ripples on the tea water
made it difficult to see his expression.

Tong Ru felt his heart moved a little at “family.”

Han Mu Chun’s lips curled up to a small grin and continued, “So that’s why
I decided I want to care for Shifu, and when…”

He wanted to say “when you get old, I’ll continue to take care of you”, but
remembered that his Shifu wouldn’t grow old, so he changed the words
within a split second: “…When Spring rolls around and you see all the
beautiful flowers bloom on Fuyao, training will get easier when your mood
also lifts!”

…So he still wants to become a gardener.

Tong Ru’s heart softened but his face refused to agree, so he simply gave up
and rolled his eyes in response.

Spring arrived and indeed Fuyao was much more lively than in the past.
The mountains were covered in a sea of flowers, bees, and butterflies and
even birds flew in at the grand scenery. Han Mu Chun sat on a hoe floating
in mid-air with his pants rolled up unevenly, and waved excitedly towards
Tong Ru.

“Shifu, look! I planted a whole mountain of flowers for you!”

Tong Ru always felt as if he was a natural-born loner. If he wasn’t spending

his time training alone, he was studying with cultivation friends; nobody
had ever approached him with such friendliness and openness.

Tong Ru remembered the ‘small incident’ a few days ago that involved this
little rascal stealing a few of his spells to sell off for money to buy alcohol
and graciously forgave everything.

They were mutually dependent, therefore no longer alone.

The end of spring drew near, and the flowers are beginning to wither. Tong
Ru wanted to keep the flowers a little longer with a spell, but Han Mu Chun
stopped him.

“Let it wither. They will bloom again next spring. Flowers bloom in Spring,
but snow covers winter; seasonal rotations and change are just a part of
nature; there’s no need to protect one thing and delay another’s time.”

Seasoned cultivators spend their time crossing mountains and seas,

sometimes even hideaway for years, but they all retain a high level of
conceit. Tong Ru heard his disciple’s words, and self-mockingly though,
“That’s right, why be so prideful to the point of isolation? Don’t they get
bored of the same thing for that long? Surely nothing good comes out of it.”

Mortals only looked forward to the future because nothing is everlasting.

Han Mu Chun took the withered flowers, placed some honey and fermented
at least 10 jugs of wine he eventually hid under the trees. Because of this,
Han Mu Chun left roughly a week’s worth of spell homework and got
personally punished by Tong Ru.

Another season passed, the jugs under the trees became a delightful treat.
With the fat little crabs from the river in the back mountain, it was an
irresistible meal from the heavens.

People always want to live a little longer, but what’s the purpose of living if
it meant to suffer, have no friends or family, and perpetual restlessness?

Tong Ru always lived on Mount Fuyao from his earliest memories and
never thought about the meaning behind a yearning for life. He got so used
to training day by day and following the same routine, every day was as
bland as drinking water to him, he never got a taste of pain nor happiness.

Until Han Mu Chun came along.

A mere hundred years felt too short, and this newfound flavors of life had
Tong Ru on his knees.

The sweetness came from the sweet flower wine, and the bitterness came
from the time his soul was locked in the three copper coins, watching
Mount Fuyao become a lifeless terrain with no one left to plant flowers.

Tong Ru watched his Xiao Chun’s soul possess a dirty weasel, a small furry
body climbing into Buzhi Temple every night to meditate. Its tiny eyes
would close slowly as if he was entering a realm of zen that nobody could
understand, or looking into the memories of Fuyao through the seal of
masters.

Tong Ru didn’t know if he left anything in the seal and didn’t know if Han
Mu Chun saw anything; especially not if Mu Chun found out…or what he
would think if he did.

It was as if he only learned of sweetness for a split second, but suffered in

pain for many long years.
Their reunion was at a place where no living can enter, the Valley of
Wangyou. Han Mu Chun used the last of his original spirit to lock Ru
Chun’s last piece of soul in the Valley of Wangyou.

It was simply an imprisonment spell- despite losing his original spirit and
most of his soul, Tong Ru was at least a former Beiming. If he truly
intended to escape, Han Mu Chun’s little confinement would be nothing but
a child’s playtoy.

Despite being physically shattered into pieces as his soul perished into
oblivion, Tong Ru was surprisingly accepting of his punishment from the
heavens- because to live and die with a certain someone was something he
dared not to desire but finally acquired.

Except there is no more sweet flower wine.

Tong Ru used to think that his precious disciple was a little too soft and
easygoing, it wasn’t until later where he learned that regardless of who you
are- whether a cultivator or mortal- to not have any regrets for the few
things in your life that matter is more than enough. Then everything else
would seem trivial.

Until the end, he never had the chance to ask Han Mu Chun, “What did you
see inside the seal of masters?”

Until the day their souls return to earth.

Han Mu Chun suddenly grabbed Tong Ru’s hand intimately, the eyes that
looked at him shining like an expansive river of stars.

‘Tis the illness of love with no return, yet I shall indelibly treasure the
madness. [4]

Perhaps the epitome of ascension is when one can pass without regrets.

[1] 解元(Jie Yuan) – The title given to scholars who have obtained the
highest score in the Fall Imperial Examinations in the Tang Dynasty.
[2] 秋闈(Qiu Wei) – Roughly translates to Fall Examination, it’s the
preliminary test degree of the Imperial Examination widely used in Ancient
China as a way to select court officials in the Imperial Bureaucracy.

[3] 會試(Hui Shi) – The second stage, Metropolitan, of the Imperial

Examinations: Exams usually start at entry-levels, then move upwards to
Provincial, Metropolitan and finally Palace exams.

[4] 直道相思了無益，未妨惆悵是清狂 – The last line of an untitled poem

written by Li Shang Yin during the Tang Dynasty; the poem tells the tale of
unrequited love from the perspective of an unnamed female that finally
decides to take her feeling down the grave with her despite knowing it will
never be returned. I took some liberties with the translation since there are
no professional or even non-professional attempts to translate this poem.