Divine Descent, an AI?

"Five hundred taels?" Li Xiaodan's eyes went wide. His face was a mixture of utter disbelief, wild joy, and lingering doubt. Zhou Hu, meanwhile, stared at the woman in Daoist robes with profound wariness. A weapon wielder! She was definitely a weapon wielder! And not a low-ranking one, either. For such a weapon wielder to suddenly arrive at Red Cloud Stockade... could they enlist her help...? "Do you think I'm trying to swindle you? Wondering why I would pay so much silver for an idol when the god has fallen and the statue has lost its divinity?" the woman dressed as a Daoist nun asked. Confusion showed on Li Xiaodan's face. Zhou Hu was equally perplexed. A flicker of reminiscence stirred deep in the woman's eyes. "Long ago, when the Central Plains were united and the realm enjoyed lasting peace, the divine-grade implement master Sheng Nü traveled across mountains and rivers to gather supreme wonders. She even flew beyond the boundaries of this world to amass spiritual materials, ultimately forging the divine artifact known as Divine Descent! "Sheng Nü possessed the holy compassion of a Buddha, and Divine Descent became the guardian artifact of the Central Plains' Rakshasa Country. "With it, Rakshasa Country entered an era of unprecedented prosperity. "Without, Divine Descent swept away all adversaries; within, Divine Descent resonated with the voice of the Great Dao." "Wait... could this Divine Descent be the legendary God of Judgment?" Zhou Hu's eyes widened in realization. At first, he hadn't connected the name Divine Descent to anything, but hearing the woman put it this way, it clicked instantly. In the Central Plains' Rakshasa Country, there was more than one divine artifact, and the people worshipped more than one god. Among them, the most widely celebrated was the God of Judgment. Zhou Hu had heard storytellers sing tales of the God of Judgment in taverns and inns. Patrons from all walks of life held the God of Judgment in the highest esteem. Those ballads and narrative verses were especially beloved by the common folk. Stories such as *The Oil Seller Sues the County Magistrate* and *The Courtesan Smites the Third Prince with Her Sword* were known far and wide. Legend had it that several centuries ago, the commoners of Rakshasa Country lived prosperous lives and could hold their heads high even before government officials. The emperor made men kneel; the God of Judgment made men stand tall. Thus, every citizen of Rakshasa Country worshipped the God of Judgment. For the God of Judgment represented absolute justice and impartiality. Here in Ninghe County, where Zhou Hu lived, a commoner suing an official was virtually unimaginable. A commoner taking an official to court was treated like a son murdering his father. First, the plaintiff had to endure the searing torment of nine fires, kneel through twelve lashings of the whip, and suffer twenty strokes of the cane while seated. Only after surviving all these ordeals would the grievance even be heard. Yet in the Central Plains' Rakshasa Country, not only could a commoner sue an official, there was even a story about a courtesan slaying an imperial prince. *The Courtesan Smites the Third Prince with Her Sword* was famous across the land, retold with endless relish. The tale went that the woman had originally been a humble silk washer blessed with extraordinary beauty. The Third Prince had spotted her during an outing and was consumed by lust. Yet Rakshasa Country's laws were strict, and the God of Judgment hung high above the heavens. Not even the Third Prince could openly abduct an innocent citizen. So he schemed against her family until they were ruined and dead, leaving her to be sold into a brothel—or rather, kept by the Third Prince under another guise. Then, one night, the Third Prince talked in his sleep, unwittingly confessing how he had framed her family. The silk washer overheard every word. She investigated in secret and uncovered the horrifying truth: it was indeed the Third Prince who had destroyed her family. That very night, she cut the Third Prince down with a blade! In any empire, this would have been an earth-shattering scandal! A mere courtesan slaying royal blood—the heavens were crashing down! According to the storytellers, the courtesan was dragged to the execution grounds to be torn apart by five horses. Yet who could have foreseen snow falling in the heat of July? And upon the scaffold, a dear friend of the woman cried out that a great injustice had been done, producing a statue of the God of Judgment. The God of Judgment saw through all things in the mortal realm, the very embodiment of justice and fairness. As the storytellers told it, the moment the divine idol appeared, the haughty magistrates pissed themselves in terror. In the end, the God of Judgment manifested. Avenging her parents by slaying the Third Prince was ruled entirely justified, and the courtesan was cleared of all guilt. Meanwhile, every corrupt official involved in the miscarriage of justice was severely punished. If Qi Yuan had been here to hear this, he would certainly have thought: *Isn't this God of Judgment just an artificial intelligence?* *Rakshasa Country was literally governed by AI!* "Yes, He was also known as the God of Judgment," the woman in Daoist robes said, her voice laced with melancholy. "I heard that a century ago, a formidable enemy invaded Rakshasa Country, and the God of Judgment fell while resisting the foreign foe?" Zhou Hu asked. When he had first heard the tales of the God of Judgment, yearning had welled up in Zhou Hu's heart. In fact, countless impoverished and upright commoners longed for the Central Plains, hoping to seek the shelter of the God of Judgment. Yet all of that had happened over a hundred years ago. "Yes." The woman's expression turned frigid. "The divine artifact shattered, the god... died, and the statues of the God of Judgment lost their divinity. "That same year, the imperial court issued an edict commanding that every idol of the God of Judgment be destroyed. "Anyone caught hiding one faced exile of three thousand li at best... and execution at worst." A cold, biting sneer touched her aloof face. "Having lost Divine Descent, when Da Feng invaded fifteen years ago, the once-mighty Rakshasa Country that cowed the four seas actually ceded territory to sue for peace, paying an annual tribute. How utterly laughable." Listening to this, Zhou Hu felt a pang of sorrow. Many thoughts crossed his mind. Perhaps not a single member of Rakshasa Country's royal house or court officials had ever truly liked the God of Judgment. Only the commoners forced to kneel upon the dirt had loved Him. "This idol is actually that powerful?" Li Xiaodan was still just a boy, and his focus lay elsewhere. "There are almost no statues of Divine Descent left in Rakshasa Country," the woman said casually. "I have a younger sister who has always idolized Divine Descent. Seeing this statue of yours, I wanted to pay five hundred taels of silver to take it off your hands." "I..." Li Xiaodan hesitated. Five hundred taels of silver was simply too staggering an amount. He glanced pleadingly toward Zhou Hu, hoping Master Zhou could offer some guidance. The woman in Daoist garb let out a soft, distant sigh. "Forget it. Since this idol found its way into your hands, it shares a karmic bond with you. I will not buy it." Divine Descent belonged to the past, after all. She would also need to persuade her sister to distance herself from that group worshipping Divine Descent before they brought disaster upon themselves. Li Xiaodan's eyes went wide, and he made no effort to conceal his disappointment. Yet a moment later, the boy found a silver lining in his misfortune. "If Divine Descent is truly so powerful, He will surely protect me!" As for the part about the idol having lost its divine efficacy, he had completely tuned it out. Zhou Hu looked at Li Xiaodan and smiled faintly. The woman cast one last glance at the statue with mixed emotions, then turned and walked away without lingering. Zhou Hu hastily hurried after her. "Senior... are you a weapon wielder?" "Yes," she replied with a cold nod, her demeanor icy. "May I ask why Senior has come to Red Cloud Stockade?" Zhou Hu ventured carefully. "What does that have to do with you?" She shot him a sideways glance. Zhou Hu instantly sensed tremendous danger. It was glaringly obvious that this weapon wielder was extraordinarily formidable. "This humble one is a constable from Ninghe County. Several murders have occurred recently in Red Cloud Stockade, suspected to be the work of a guiling. Please be careful, Senior..." Zhou Hu hesitated. "Careful not to drink the water or eat the food in Red Cloud Stockade?" "Senior knows?" Zhou Hu looked at her in surprise, a spark of wild hope rising within him. *Could it be...?* "Do not place too much hope in me. I wander the world slaying guiling purely for my cultivation. If a task proves impossible, I will not throw my life away. "The guiling here... is rather peculiar. My lifebound implement may not necessarily be able to counter it." The implements commanded by weapon wielders fell into two categories. One consisted of ordinary implements; so long as one was compatible with them, a simple hand seal was enough to wield them. The other kind was a lifebound implement. Such an implement was tied intimately to the weapon wielder's very being and could even grow alongside its master. However, advancing as a weapon wielder with a lifebound implement was far harder than for ordinary practitioners; one had to temper not only oneself, but the lifebound implement as well. Upon hearing her words, Zhou Hu was overcome with delight. "If Senior requires anything at all, simply seek out Zhou Hu! I will do everything within my power to assist you!" *** The night was pitch-black. Two silhouettes, one elderly and one young, appeared on the street. Qi Yuan brushed off his hands, his face thoroughly composed. "Wang Kaixuan... who is this guy?" Chen Kangbao hunched behind Qi Yuan. "I don't know, but according to Huang Yanshou, he's... from the commandery." Over the past few days, Qi Yuan's strength had grown. Anyone who suffered a grievance without taking revenge was a coward. And so, under the cover of night, he had brought Chen Kangbao along to infiltrate the Huang estate and capture Huang Yanshou. From Huang Yanshou's confession, Qi Yuan learned that the mastermind behind framing the matrilocal son-in-law was this Wang Kaixuan. *This game is nesting dolls inside nesting dolls,* Qi Yuan grumbled inwardly. He had already formed several theories. Most likely, the matrilocal son-in-law's wife was too beautiful, attracting unwanted attention. Wang Kaixuan had grown envious and dispatched people to ruin him. Naturally, there were other reasons as well. For instance, the matrilocal son-in-law's deceased parents had been implement masters, and whatever precious heirlooms they had left behind had piqued Wang Kaixuan's greed. With both motives combined, they had moved against Qi Yuan. "Well, the man is dead. Let's head to... the Anshan Inn," Qi Yuan recalled. When the matrilocal son-in-law had come to Ninghe County, a servant from the Shen family had accompanied him. Qi Yuan needed to see that servant and have him deliver a letter back home. If the wife found out about the mess here and divorced him in a fit of rage, how was he supposed to continue roleplaying as the Shen family's matrilocal son-in-law? His quest would fail. Besides, he wouldn't even have the chance to fetch bathwater for his mother-in-law. Before being thrown into the madhouse, he and the servant had been staying at the Anshan Inn. Though dark, the night was not yet late. "Young Master, should we set a fire?" Chen Kangbao suggested helpfully. "After killing someone, setting a fire is only proper." Qi Yuan shook his head. "Do not kill the innocent indiscriminately, nor destroy property. Arson is a serious crime!" Chen Kangbao nodded thoughtfully. "Stop daydreaming and focus on formulating a proper strategy for dealing with guiling. "Having you tackle them every time while I do the chopping isn't a sustainable method!" Qi Yuan was speaking the truth. What if they encountered a particularly powerful guiling that Chen Kangbao couldn't pin down? At present, Qi Yuan was still quite weak. Chen Kangbao pondered this deeply. "I'm no professional at exterminating guiling, but in my humble opinion, whenever a guiling approaches, we should smile first so it senses we mean no harm. "Then we can gently stroke the guiling's head. Generally speaking, guiling love being patted on the head. That way, it won't hurt us, and we can... take the opportunity to slaughter it!" Chen Kangbao delivered his theory with utmost seriousness. "And what if the guiling attacks us anyway?" "Ahem... this old servant is no professional, so it's only natural my ideas have a few flaws." "You'd better stick to pinning them down," Qi Yuan said after some thought. "You're the chopping board, I'm the kitchen knife, and we're still missing a chef." Qi Yuan kept his roleplaying quest at the forefront of his mind. After all, completing the roleplay would grant rewards, something he eagerly anticipated. "What chef? Are they going to cook meals for this old servant?" Chen Kangbao couldn't go three sentences without bringing up food. "We'll discuss it once we return to the commandery seat." Qi Yuan already had a plan forming. The most pressing matter right now was boosting his strength. Once his cultivation rose, he could properly map out his roleplaying strategy. After all, while he was supposed to be acting as a kitchen knife, his current physical shape bore no resemblance to one whatsoever. Roleplaying blindly would be useless. Soon, the two of them arrived at the Anshan Inn. When the waiter caught sight of Qi Yuan, a look of surprise crossed his face. "Young... Young Master Qi?" Qi Yuan looked like a completely different person compared to before. Setting aside the changes in his build and appearance, the most striking difference was his aura. The waiter had to stare for several moments before confirming it was indeed him. Moreover, the news of the Shen family's son-in-law being committed to the madhouse had only circulated within a small circle; an ordinary inn waiter had no idea. "Where is Lao Zhong? Why isn't he here?" Qi Yuan asked. Lao Zhong was the servant dispatched by the Shen family to accompany him home to pay respects to his ancestors. "Master Zhong left!" the waiter hurried to reply. "Left?" "The day Master Huang invited you out for an excursion, Master Zhong checked out and left that very evening." Qi Yuan remained impassive. "And my belongings?" "Master Zhong took all of Young Master's luggage with him!" the waiter said quickly, terrified that Qi Yuan might suspect the inn of embezzling his possessions. "Is that so?" Qi Yuan murmured faintly. "Young Master, this Lao Zhong clearly has the bone of rebellion on his head!" Chen Kangbao blurted out. "When Young Master was dragged to the madhouse, he didn't even bother to visit you or ask if you had been framed—he just ran off! "If it were this old servant, I would have stormed the madhouse under the cover of night to break Young Master out!" He leaned close to Qi Yuan's ear and whispered the boast, as if establishing that he was the truly loyal one. Qi Yuan gave a nod and turned to the waiter. "Prepare two upper rooms for us." "Right away, sir!" After a long day's toil and killing a man, he sorely needed a good night's rest. The stench in the madhouse had been overpowering, and Qi Yuan hadn't been able to take a proper bath; it couldn't hold a candle to the comfort of an inn. *** "Huang Yanshou... is dead? Just who could have done it?" Zhou Hu furrowed his brows deeply. With Lin Qinghe having been transferred, Zhou Hu was currently the acting head constable. A murder had occurred at the Huang residence, and Huang Yanshou was dead, leaving Zhou Hu thoroughly stressed. Lately, major incidents had been striking Ninghe County one after another. To say nothing of Red Cloud Stockade, there was the director of the madhouse, and now the young master of the Huang family. These events cascading in rapid succession was truly alarming. "Constable Zhou, who... who was the killer?" Old Master Huang's hair was stark white, his face grim as iron. "Likely... a weapon wielder," Zhou Hu stated his assessment. "Old Master Huang, did Young Master Huang... offend anyone recently?" Hearing this, Old Master Huang's expression shifted slightly. He quickly replied, "No. My son was kind-hearted; how could he have crossed any villain?" "Old Master Huang, are you concealing something from me?" A suspicion had already formed in Zhou Hu's mind. The director of the madhouse and Huang Yanshou were both tied to the Shen family's son-in-law, Qi Yuan. Could it be...? "Constable Zhou, this case... our Huang family will not report it after all. My son died in the night from a sudden, fatal illness!" Old Master Huang stated calmly. Zhou Hu fell silent, his thoughts churning. He thought back to the God of Judgment from the Central Plains. If He were still watching over the world, things surely wouldn't have ended like this. "In that case, I shall take my leave!" Zhou Hu clasped his fists. About a quarter of an hour after he departed, an elderly woman stumbled in, sobbing hysterically. "Huang Shifan! Our son is dead, and you're just going to let the killer walk free?!" Huang Shifan glared at the woman and couldn't resist slapping her across the face. "Isn't it your fault Yanshou ended up like this?! I told you countless times that Wang Kaixuan was no good, yet you still let Yanshou get tangled up with him and meddle in the feuds of those aristocratic clans! Do you really think our Huang family can stand alongside those weapon-wielding clans?!" Huang Shifan trembled with fury as he spoke. The slap stunned the old woman, leaving her slumped on the floor, wailing, "My son..." "Never speak of this matter again! The fault lay with our Huang family from the start." Huang Shifan made his decision. He would have to bleed some wealth and deliver an apology gift to the Shen family in the commandery seat. As for Huang Yanshou's death, it was a father's failure to discipline his son—he would simply claim he had beaten his son to death with his own hands.