‘Only today… it is not for me to speak of this!’
Ning Wan paused, only to see Li Zhouwei raise his brow. Rising from his seat, he paced slowly and said, “I heard… True Person Ning presented a dragon tendon to the Song Emperor.”
Ning Wan’s expression gradually turned mournful as she replied, “That did indeed happen.”
Li Zhouwei whipped his head around and asked, “From which dragon scion?”
A dragon tendon was among the rarest treasures in the world. Never mind whether anyone today could actually make use of it; merely holding it in one’s hand was a perilous matter that sent chills down the spine…
Every single dragon scion was accounted for. The loss of any one was known to all. Ning Wan’s act had not merely sworn fealty to the Song Emperor; it had delivered a resounding slap to the face of the Dragon Kind in full view of the entire world! If not unprecedented throughout history, she was at least the first to dare do so in the present era!
This was no longer a matter concerning her alone. It exerted an immense impact on the relations between the Underworld Court and the Dragon Kind!
Ning Wan exhaled deeply and answered, “The White Dragon Branch. Dongfang Ai.”
Li Zhouwei asked in a low voice, “How did that item come into your hands?”
Ning Wan shook her head, her voice trembling slightly. “The True Person left it behind… Only after receiving guidance from someone did I learn what was inside the box, and only then did I know how to save my life.”
The woman raised her brows, fixing her soft yet resolute gaze upon him, and ground her teeth. “This is what that lord wanted. If I did not offer it… someone would inevitably come to take it! What choice did I have? Only by severing all retreat… could I seize a thread of survival! From now on, the Ning clan can never set foot in the sea. We have bound our fate to rise and fall together with the Great Song!”
Li Zhouwei stared heavily at her, unperturbed by her reasoning. His sole astonishment lay with Yuansu, the hues shifting continually in his eyes:
‘True Person Yuansu… Was it truly only True Person Yuansu? Even if he possessed a spirit treasure, he was ultimately just a cultivator with a single divine ability. Did dragons lack spirit treasures? How could he have slain a dragon!’
‘Even if he could slay a dragon, why provoke the Dragon Kind? Why push the Ning clan into such a desperate corner? Even if he could foresee this day, there was no need to take such a reckless gamble!’
Li Zhouwei found it difficult to believe. He lowered his voice. “Which path did Dongfang Ai cultivate?”
Ning Wan closed her eyes and replied, “『True Qi』!”
Li Zhouwei straightened silently and turned back toward the window to ask his final question: “How is the dragon tendon to be disposed of?”
Ning Wan glanced at him and said, “Tianwu possessed three magic treasures. The first is the Wenwu Pingqing Zhi; the second, the Fengzhen Cexuan Whip; the third, the Quanye Martial Seal.”
“Among them, the Wenwu Pingqing Zhi was an emblem of status, long shattered and not worth mentioning. The Quanye Martial Seal and the Fengzhen Cexuan Whip were both inherited from his father, the Prince of Jiangling. Originally mortal items, they attained immortality alongside him and followed the Emperor beyond the heavens.”
She said in a muted voice, “The Quanye Martial Seal… the imperial scions prepared it long ago. They began refining it back when the Prince of Yue pacified the realm, and to this day it has reached the pinnacle of spirit implements. As for the Fengzhen Cexuan Whip…”
Meeting Li Zhouwei’s gaze, she said evenly, “It is to be forged upon the Emperor’s ascension, and it requires this dragon tendon.”
Li Zhouwei did not mince words, remarking calmly, “Senior Yuansu calculated this in advance?”
Ning Wan’s pupils dilated slightly in clear disarray, yet she kept her head lowered, staring at the teacup before her. In an undertone, she said, “Perhaps he received guidance from an even more exalted figure.”
Li Zhouwei fell silent for a moment. Through the window frame, he gazed out at the distant celestial signs. Surging clouds and thunder were coalescing at the horizon, churning and rolling upward, sweeping across Mount Xiping—unchanged for ten thousand years—and transforming into a torrential downpour that cascaded mightily over the earth.
Amidst the torrential rain, faint white glimmers could be seen darting back and forth, appearing like streaking lights of flight. As the dark clouds in the distance rolled in to obscure the heavens, Li Zhouwei withdrew his gaze and turned back. Ning Wan still held her cup with lowered brows, utterly silent.
Within mere breaths, a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested middle-aged man in bronze armor landed before the palace hall. He dropped to his knees with a metallic clatter, his breath coming in heavy gasps:
“Reporting to Your Highness… Guyan Temple was besieged by troops and has fallen! Advancing another step, the enemy is already closing in on Mount Xiping!”
Li Zhouwei stood with his back to him without answering. Instead, he slowly lowered his gaze to the table, where the brilliantly gleaming, sharply feathered Zhengting Prince of Wei Cloak lay folded beside the dark banner with its blue-purple base and black-gold patterns. Their radiance had grown all the more piercing.
Ning Wan stood up, lifted the jade tray bearing the prince’s cloak, and offered a bow. “Prince of Wei… please!”
Li Zhouwei seized the royal cloak and cast a deep, piercing glance at her without speaking. With his other hand, he lifted the dark banner embroidered in black-gold over blue-purple and gave it a light flick.
*Whoosh…*
In an instant, the dark banner unfurled proudly, transforming into a grand blue-purple standard. Its qilin pattern shone brilliantly, resplendent and inviolable. Gripping the pitch-black flagpole, Li Zhouwei planted it firmly on the floor with a resounding clang.
Without looking closely, he thrust the royal banner into Li Zhouda’s hands, draped the cloak over his shoulders, and strode out of the hall, leaving behind a flat, powerful command:
“Dispatch troops to Guyan.”
……
Mount Dayuan Guangyin.
The golden hall gleamed like colored glaze. Lotus thrones descended in stepped tiers, upon which various golden bodies stood or sat, large and small, each holding golden implements.
The highest lotus platforms shone with the brightest brilliance. Several Buddhist cultivators of differing physiques and appearances sat among them in a row. None met the eyes of another, projecting deep wariness.
The Mohe at the very summit was swathed in shifting violet light and draped in plain gray robes. Yet across his face were densely packed eyes, lined along his brow and cheeks, pitch-black and darting about in ceaseless observation.
This was none other than Zhuokong Mohe Liangli, Zhelu.
The Kongwu Path ultimately lacked deep heritage. Though he held the esteemed rank of Liangli, he had only barely crossed the threshold of six lifetimes, and his lineage carried no high status. The eminent monks to his left and right were unwilling to acknowledge his glances. Yet he had so many eyes scuttling across his face that they were hard to avoid, prompting several Mohe to nearly turn their faces toward the back of their necks.
Toward the middle tier of the hall, a pale-pink golden lotus blossomed. Minghui Mohe rested his face on one hand, dozing off while squinting his eyes to observe his surroundings:
‘Morals are declining by the day… When landlords and moneylenders hold a meeting, they let a merciful dog take the head seat.’
With the founding of the Great Song, Jiangnan had become a tough nut to crack. Buddhist cultivators had always bullied the weak while fearing the strong, so naturally, the Mohe of Mount Dayuan Guangyin let their gazes wander uncommittedly. Only Minghui had confidence in his heart, casually napping.
After observing for a while, Zhelu’s gaze turned chilly. He pressed his palms together and said, “Everyone… since word has arrived from the north, we ought to move south.”
Silence filled the hall. Zhelu waited for a good while before he was forced to ask, “Why does everyone remain silent?”
A golden lotus beside him swayed. The six-armed, four-legged Nuzi Mohe raised his brows and looked over. Though Nuzi’s cultivation was far inferior to Zhelu’s, his status was by no means low due to his origin in the Great Desire and his position as Peacock’s confidant. He said calmly, “I wonder why Immortal Envoy Qi suddenly changed his mind and dispatched Gongsun Bei over here? I see no need for such fuss. It leaves our people in an awkward spot—neither advancing nor staying put makes sense…”
Wary of his backing, Zhelu wore a genial expression and answered, “That is difficult to say… A few days ago at Mount Xiaoshi, Immortal Master Qi accepted a disciple whom he cherishes dearly. After bringing him up the mountain, he suddenly began issuing orders, rearranging the southward routes of several individuals, and specially pulled Gongsun Bei out to bring treasures to the lake.”
“A disciple? Is Mount Xiaoshi not within our Buddhist Land’s domain?!”
Nuzi frowned and inquired in confusion. Zhelu replied in an undertone, “Heh, that person was originally from Jiangbei. After the turmoil, he became a novice monk under our path’s governance. Who could have known he possessed such extraordinary natural talent that Zhixuan Pavilion would take him as a disciple!”
Though nothing seemed amiss with his words, his tone inevitably carried a hint of bitterness… After all, to be forcefully accepted by Qi Lanyan in disregard of conventional rules meant the boy had to possess something truly remarkable. He could have achieved great things in the Buddhist Land as well; thus, Zhelu felt displeased, even if he dared not vent it.
Nuzi frowned, still puzzled.
He fancied that he understood Zhixuan Pavilion quite well. Those Daoists held their noses high in the air, consistently looking down on Buddhist cultivators. They placed great weight on karmic affinities, detested cultivators throwing themselves into the Buddhist path, and looked with even greater disdain upon figures wavering between the two… Why would they be willing to accept a mere novice monk?
‘There must be something wrong here… But there is no need to dig into it. Once Lord Que finishes seclusion, he will indisputably emerge as a grand figure. Why should I wade into these muddy waters? I need only preserve myself and enjoy the benefits in peace.’
Yet as soon as he fell silent, nobody else paid any mind to Zhelu either. They exchanged glances, none willing to speak.
Only then did a figure suddenly stand up with a rustle. He had a long, horse-like face and a solemn countenance—none other than Daixi Mohe, belonging to the Kongwu Path itself, who hurried to back him up:
“Shanji Commandery is an exceptionally vital location. My strength is meager, so I must not dally; I shall march down along Zhuoshaling to conquer the wilderness!”
Minghui chuckled internally. He spoke up abruptly, asking, “Mahasattva Daixi… why aren’t you going to Lake Wangyue? It seemed to me your grievances ran quite deep!”
‘…’
Daixi choked, anger flashing in his eyes. Restraining himself from exploding, he replied evenly, “My strength is deficient, far inferior to that of my fellow Daoists, and I cannot bear such a heavy responsibility. Furthermore… Lake Wangyue… General Gongsun will lead men there. My foundation lies in Jueyin; were I strong, all would be well, but being weak, I am naturally at a severe disadvantage against Mingyang—Lotus Temple has read extensively through Daoist texts, yet to think you don’t even understand such simple reasoning.”
He paused briefly and sneered, “It seems the lack of milk at the banquet has made Mahasattva Minghui rather displeased!”
“Hah!”
Minghui naturally understood whom he was mocking. Slapping Jinlian’s face was slapping his own face. Rage flared in his heart. Leaping up from his seat, he sneered, “What a joke! Just because Gongsun Bei is going means there is no need for us Buddhist cultivators? Since the Kongwu Path is presiding, someone from it must go to show sincerity. Instead of thinking of honoring the Liangli, do you expect the venerable person of Kongwu Liangli to personally go to the lake? How then would the other fronts be managed?”
His words were venomous and biting, infuriating Daixi into a furious curse: “Give you an inch of face… and you push your luck! Who doesn't know what you’re scheming in your heart! You merely want us to test that White Qilin for you! Since you are so determined to serve, why don't you go yourself?!”
Minghui roared with laughter, his gaze turning resolute as an awe-inspiring righteousness surfaced upon his face. Kicking aside his lotus throne, he bounded into the center of the hall, swaggering forward, and bellowed with magnificent grandeur:
“And why shouldn't I go?!”
This thunderous cry was like the entrance of a hero in a dramatic play, leaving Daixi completely dumbfounded, his mind going completely blank for a moment:
‘Huh? What kind of game is he playing?!’
The crowd of eminent cultivators looked over in unison, staring at one another in bewilderment.
Yet Minghui was far from finished. Thumping his chest, he declared loudly, “During the previous southward campaigns, Lotus Temple was delayed by various matters and unable to participate… Now, to demonstrate our wholehearted devotion unto death and our resolve to serve Mount Dayang, we are willing to take the vanguard! To spread the foundational teachings of our holy path and deliver all living beings from misery and suffering!”
He spoke with tears in his voice and an expression of pristine righteousness, grinding his teeth: “I only hope the Liangli will grant this!”
Most present knew exactly what sort of scoundrel he was. This display was so utterly bizarre that not a single person could utter a word. Only Luejin Lianmin of the Damu Dharma Realm, who was stationed here, lowered his head slightly, showing a trace of being moved:
‘This Master Minghui is truly a good person… Master did not place his trust in the wrong man! Along the entire coast, only Lake Wangyue has the largest population; any casual slaughter there claims hundreds of thousands of lives. Yet he disregards danger and enters the fray in person…’
‘Lotus Temple… despite having milk-sucking monks seeking immortality and barking vicious curs for mahasattvas, the disciple they trained is wholeheartedly devoted to goodness… Clearly, Lotus Temple does have its redeeming virtues…’
This completely baffled Zhelu as well. The eyes covering his face stared straight at Minghui, temporarily unable to discern his true intentions. Even more flabbergasted was Mingxiang, fellow Mohe of Lotus Temple standing beside Minghui. His broad face was filled with sheer horror:
‘Our Lotus Temple? Me?’
‘What is Junior Brother doing?! Did I ever agree to this?!’
How could he not be terrified? One had to understand that this was an official state war between North and South. There was no need to justify actions under righteous pretexts; both Daoists and Buddhists could take the field together. That fellow surnamed Qi was planning to take advantage of the Great Song’s unsolidified footing to flex his muscles… With Gongsun Bei arriving with a spirit treasure, the Prince of Wei would undoubtedly fight tooth and nail. Nobody wanted to be savaged by the White Qilin—Nüxiao had been obliterated so thoroughly that she couldn't even manage to reincarnate!
Yet before their departure, their master had specifically instructed that all matters must follow this junior brother’s lead. He could only force himself to remain composed, listening as Zhelu, likewise maintaining his composure, narrowed his eyes and spoke in a deep voice:
“It is rare to see such loyalty from Mahasattva Minghui. Then I shall trouble you to select your men, Mahasattva.”
The moment these words fell, Daixi snapped out of his shock, a chill gripping his heart. Sure enough, Minghui said solemnly, “All matters still require the Liangli’s direction. After all, we need a pillar of the Kongwu Path to anchor us. I request that Daixi head south with me.”
Zhelu remained silent, quietly looking toward Daixi. The eyes covering his face shifted in unison, instantly making Daixi realize the grim reality, his heart churning with malice:
‘How vicious…’
‘He is hellbent on dragging me down with him… Fine… fine… The Li clan harbors hatred toward me as deep as the sea. If Li Zhouwei lashes out… in the end, it is bound to fall upon my head! Just where did I provoke this beast?!’
Yet he had no way out. Grinding his teeth, he stepped down from his seat and bowed deeply to his Liangli: “I obey the holy command!”
Ignoring Daixi’s venomous glare, Minghui swept his gaze around the hall. Spotting a couple of characters among the cultivators—one clad in crimson atop a red tiger, another with numerous eyes on his face, all belonging to the Kongwu Path—he singled them out one after another, stopping only when Zhelu’s expression shifted slightly. Then he smiled and said, “Many thanks for the Liangli’s grace!”
Zhelu wore a smile that rippled into numerous wrinkles, squeezed between countless eyelids to create a terrifying spectacle. He said coldly, “General Gongsun and his companions have specially brought the Xiguang Fenyi Treasure Terrace, aiming directly for the fall of the Qilin. With Mahasattva Minghui taking along so many hands, if you fail to suppress the Qilin and seize its bloodline this time, beware of Mount Dayang demanding an accounting!”
Chapter 1027