At dawn, the southern town welcomed a fresh influx of displaced refugees. In addition to the thirty thousand sold by Cui Shutong, the first batch of fifty thousand sent by the Marquis of Ping'an had also arrived. Coupled with the twenty thousand refugees who had previously lingered on the sidelines, the total exceeded one hundred thousand.
As daylight broke, the porridge stations opened their doors. Having learned upon arrival that these stalls would stay open until every single person had received food, the refugees did not jostle or clamor.
Just then, a commotion broke out by the execution platform. A large troop marched onto the stage, escorting an exquisitely dressed young nobleman up the steps.
The supervising officer loudly enumerated thirty capital crimes he had committed—each thoroughly irredeemable. Listening to the charges, the crowd of refugees burned with fury. Almost every person found some reflection of their own suffering in those thirty crimes. Earth-shattering roars of "Behead him! Behead him!" erupted across the square.
Amid the deafening cries, the executioner raised his broadsword and brought it down. A head rolled, and fresh blood spurted yards into the air!
Wei Yuan harvested three thousand strands of azure qi on the spot.
In their frenzy of celebration, the crowd overlooked one detail: the supervising officer never mentioned the nobleman's name, and the charges read were mostly generic accusations such as boundless extravagance and abducting civilian women.
Once the nobleman was beheaded, the supervising officer invoked another Dao art. The corpse immediately ignited in flames yards high, burning with savage intensity and reducing the man to ash in the blink of an eye. The officer then summoned a blast of fierce wind, scattering the pale ash in every direction.
At this, even the refugees stared in stunned disbelief. Beheading him wasn't enough; they had to crush his bones and scatter his ashes too?
In an instant, countless souls felt an overwhelming sense of catharsis, cheering and leaping in joy. Never in their lives had they experienced such jubilation. Shouts and cheers blanketed the sky and earth, bringing Wei Yuan another ten thousand strands of azure qi.
Those who had actually seen or recognized the young nobleman were either already executed or locked away in the dungeons. Those who could fight would be sent to the front lines in the next battle, while those who could not would be lowered into the mines. As for anyone truly devoid of value, Wei Yuan intended to send them back to the Marquis of Ping'an. In short, no one who knew the truth would ever have the opportunity to speak.
The sole remaining leak was the nobleman himself, but given how humiliating the affair was, he likely wouldn't have the gall to speak of it either. Even taking ten thousand steps back, if the truth were ever exposed one day, no one would care by then anyway. With that, the relief grain case was fully concluded.
Having resolved this major affair, Wei Yuan felt lightened and went to check on the Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World.
Several days had passed. Zhang Sheng had fashioned herself a throne out of immortal swords. Sitting atop it with her legs crossed, she was taking advantage of the lull between tribulation strikes to peruse a Daoist text, waiting for the two hundred fifty-sixth lightning bolt to fall.
A moment later, the tribulation lightning arrived late. Zhang Sheng sat motionless. Thirty-six immortal swords had already risen from the throne, assembling into a sword array that circled and channeled the lightning straight into Zhang Sheng herself, not sparing a single shred for the Nether Shaman remnant soul beside her.
Spared the agony of the heavenly tribulation, the Nether Shaman remnant soul instinctively looked upon Zhang Sheng with deep gratitude, seemingly offering something up to her in return.
As the lightning crashed down, Zhang Sheng shut the text and held it in her hand, closing her eyes to endure the tribulation's baptism. Once the lightning dissipated, she resumed reading, waiting for the next strike. Another immortal sword took shape before her, then flew of its own accord into the throne.
When the two hundred fifty-sixth immortal sword slotted into place, a majestic and dazzling brilliance surged from the heart of the throne, erupting like a newborn sun bursting forth at daybreak!
The throne, initially assembled with casual ease, grew steadily taller, more imposing, and more solemn. A layer of golden immortal light enveloped its surface, within which countless tiny runes swarmed and drifted.
Several dreamlike halos coalesced around the throne, drifting and coursing ceaselessly along fixed trajectories like profound celestial orbits. Within each halo, innumerable specks of radiance flickered like fine sand.
Evidently, forging this two hundred fifty-sixth immortal sword had elevated Zhang Sheng's entire Dao Foundation by another rank.
The tribulation clouds in the sky shifted accordingly, taking on the lustrous luster of five-colored glaze. This was the Lingxiao Glazed Pure World Heavenly Tribulation, ranked among the top five of all dharma idol heavenly tribulations. Yet Zhang Sheng merely glanced up once before returning to her book.
Watching from afar, Wei Yuan had grown numb to it all.
The heavenly tribulation was endless, and Zhang Sheng's immortal swords were equally endless. Perhaps when the next Shaman offensive was repelled, her tribulation would still not be finished.
Emerging from the Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World, Wei Yuan found Su Xuejing standing before him. The white-robed swordsman said, "I hear your weiqi skill isn't half bad. Since you finally have a moment to spare, care for a game or two?"
Wei Yuan refused immediately. "Where would I find the time for weiqi right now?"
"The way of civil and military affairs is one of tension and relaxation. Besides, playing weiqi aids in comprehending the Dao. When the ancients laid out these nineteen lines across and nineteen down, not one more and not one less, there was profound meaning in it."
Wei Yuan secretly thought that with his meager skill, playing a thousand or eight hundred more games wouldn't bring him an ounce of Dao enlightenment. And as for the games played by the Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World, he hadn't understood them from the start, and playing more wouldn't change that.
As for why the board had nineteen lines each way, the Smoke and Fire did not share Su Xuejing's romantic view. It believed instead that the human ancestors had possessed limited intellect—make the board any smaller and it wasn't fun, make it any larger and they couldn't handle it.
Yet seeing the look of anticipation on Su Xuejing's face, Wei Yuan could only relent. So long as this prodigy swordsman remained in Qingming, his presence stood as a testament to the Sword Palace's goodwill. Since the man had no other hobbies and Wei Yuan had no time to debate the Dao with him, humoring him in a game was the only option.
The two arrived at Su Xuejing's quarters. Catching wind of what was happening, Shangguan Qianmo came scurrying over. She quietly set out tea and fruit, then produced several large throw pillows from who-knew-where, settling in comfortably to watch the match.
Su Xuejing offered Wei Yuan the white stones to play first, then placed a black stone of his own. With each claiming a corner, he smiled and said, "Every meeting must eventually end in parting. I have other business to attend to, and I fear I must depart in a couple of days for some time. However, given your extraordinary attainments in Dao arts, governance, and warfare, your grasp of weiqi cannot possibly be poor. If you have time over the next two days, I shall instruct you properly. Once I have guided you through three instructional games, I will take my leave. I hope to gain a worthy opponent in the weiqi world in the future."
Wei Yuan was taken aback; he hadn't expected Su Xuejing to leave. Thinking about it, Su Xuejing had found no stage for his skills in the last battle, and he likely had no wish to stain his spotless sword heart by incurring karmic debt against ordinary Shamans.
Still, since Su Xuejing had promised to guide him through three instructional games before leaving, he would certainly keep his word. And so, while booting up the Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World, Wei Yuan asked, "What do you mean by an instructional game?"
Su Xuejing smiled. "As we play, I will explain the principles behind key placements. Ponder them carefully, and your skill will naturally improve."
"I see!" Wei Yuan exclaimed, then asked with concern, "What if my skill doesn't improve?"
Full of confidence, Su Xuejing replied, "Having promised three instructional games, I will naturally honor my word to play all three. If you cannot improve, then I will teach you until you do before leaving."
Su Xuejing was not worried that Wei Yuan would act shamelessly by refusing to admit his progress. Such childish behavior was beneath him, Su Xuejing was certain. Having observed Wei Yuan's open valor and upright bearing when challenging the enemy head-on the other day, Su Xuejing held his character in high esteem.
Just then, Su Xuejing turned his head and caught sight of Shangguan Qianmo covering her face with one hand, tilting her head back toward the ceiling. Her shoulders were trembling in steady spasms—whether she was laughing or crying was impossible to tell, but her sword heart had clearly collapsed.
Su Xuejing's expression darkened, though with Wei Yuan present, he could hardly reprimand his junior directly. Yet a sudden prick of wariness chilled his heart: *She must have noticed something, yet I sensed nothing at all?! When did my sword heart become so dull?*
Just as the warning bells rang in Su Xuejing's mind, a crisp clack resounded. Wei Yuan had already slapped a stone down right beside the black one, clamping onto it tightly!
A flash of irritation flared up in Su Xuejing's chest. He almost reprimanded the move, but remembered that this was an instructional game. Wei Yuan was clearly a novice; no matter how wildly he played, it had to be excused—otherwise, what kind of instruction would this be?
Suppressing his agitated state of mind, Su Xuejing casually answered the move, preparing to swallow every stone Wei Yuan attached.
The two placed stones like lightning. In mere moments, they had exchanged over sixty moves. Then, Su Xuejing found his entire corner scooped clean, leaving behind only a rootless, floating group that was scrambling desperately for life.
Su Xuejing froze in sheer astonishment.
Now, even an absolute beginner could see that he had lost.
Wei Yuan said, "This game doesn't count. Let's go again."
Chapter 509