Qingchi Sect, Yuanwu Peak.
News that Yuanwu was on the verge of passing away had gradually spread. The Violet Palace True Person was constantly darting in and out of the sect, and while the disciples all understood the situation tacitly, none dared speak of it.
Yuanwu Peak loomed high, cloaked in mist and clouds as fire veins surged below. It was the sacred peak of Qingchi dedicated to artifact refinement. Normally, cultivators flew to and fro in bustling commotion, yet now it appeared desolate, as though everyone went out of their way to detour around it.
After all, the current Yuanwu was the least reasonable figure both within and outside the sect. Even if he simply crossed paths with someone, deemed them an ill omen, and struck them dead with a wave of his sleeve, no one would dare seek justice.
Tang Shedu emerged from his cave estate, his armor clanking, looking thoroughly vexed.
He had reaped no benefits from the grotto-heaven, only sustaining severe injuries. Knowing that Yuanwu was bound to go mad in recent years, he had used his convalescence as an excuse to procrastinate repeatedly, remaining in secluded cultivation on the peak for well over a decade.
Now, however, he had reached the point where seeing Yuanwu was unavoidable. If he continued to hide, Yuanwu might remember him one day, tear through the Great Void, and slap Tang Shedu to death with a single strike.
To his surprise, as soon as he reached the mountainside, he saw a youth-like man standing before the slope. Startled, Tang Shedu hurriedly greeted him, “Greetings, True Person Yuansu.”
Yuansu held a jade flask, seemingly still drinking. He waved a hand as if shooing away a fly and said softly, “I only came to watch him die. It has nothing to do with you.”
Seeing Yuansu’s nonchalant demeanor, Tang Shedu broke into a cold sweat, feeling like crying inside. Yuansu possessed an acerbic temperament and would never pass up such a prime opportunity to mock Yuanwu, which only made things harder for those caught in between.
He hastened up the mountain. In front of the great hall stood another man, dressed not in Daoist green but in a brocade robe, sporting a short beard, sallow skin, a long, thin face, and dull eyes—equally terrified to the extreme.
This man was the other person in charge on Yuanwu Peak, the “Brocade Mouse” renowned for his greed.
In those years, Tang Shedu had merely been a branch disciple, following Tang Shecheng like an attendant. Because of his greedy nature, this brocade-robed cultivator had frequently been strung up and thrashed by his elder martial brother all night long, howling in tears.
The two exchanged glances, both wearing mournful expressions. Yet the hall that once gleamed with golden light now appeared dim and lusterless. Yuanwu, who had always maintained a radiant bearing, was nowhere to be seen; there was only a white-haired old man, disheveled, kneeling dazed before the hall.
Tang Shedu’s legs trembled. Listening to the clattering metallic sounds echoing through the hall, he wished he could gouge out his own eyes. Lowering his head to his chest, he called out tremulously, “Mas... Master.”
Upon the dais, Yuanwu was groggy and muddled, squinting toward them as he murmured in surprise, “Shecheng, Xiuxian, you two have come.”
Tang Shedu and his companion naturally recognized those two names: one was Yuanwu’s son, Tang Shecheng, and the other was their former Eldest Senior Brother, Yu Muxian.
Yuanwu was cold and ruthless, yet in his heart, he cherished only those two. In the past when they were both alive, the atmosphere on Yuanwu Peak had been completely different, and a smile could still be seen on Yuanwu’s face.
Later, Tang Shecheng failed his breakthrough to the Violet Palace and perished, while Yu Muxian was slain by Guo E of Chijiao Island. Yuanwu had been powerless to change either outcome. From then on, his temperament had grown increasingly radical, degenerating to where it was today.
The two knelt upon the floor, not daring to utter a word. Disheveled and hollow-eyed, Yuanwu took a step forward, reached out to take Tang Shedu by the arm, and asked, “Ah... Cheng’er... why are you wearing a helmet and armor? How many times has your father told you... wear a Daoist robe... look dashing... yes... wearing a Daoist robe is good...”
Tang Shedu’s lips turned pale as he stared blankly at him. Yuanwu suddenly flew into a rage and cursed, “Rebellion! All of you are rebelling!”
“Worthless cur!”
He kicked Tang Shedu in the chest. Amid a crackle of breaking bones, Tang Shedu tumbled from the raised dais like a bird with clipped wings. Yuanwu coughed up a pool of gold dust and spat, “Worthless cur, what are you wailing for?! I am not dead yet!”
Yuanwu then reached for the brocade-robed cultivator and asked, “Why dress so extravagantly?! ...Xiuxian, you have finally learned to think of yourself... that younger brother of yours is useless... ah... learn more Daoist arts... do not just cultivate blindly...”
The brocade-robed cultivator was already on the verge of tears. Hearing these words, the normally greedy and venomous Brocade Mouse burst into loud sobs.
Yet this weeping startled Yuanwu, jolting him awake from his tenderness and bewilderment. Coldness and madness flooded back into his eyes as a dim light rose from his body once more. In a fit of fury, Yuanwu struck the brocade-robed cultivator’s chest with his palm, sending him spitting a mouthful of blood across the floor before rolling all the way down the high dais. His brocade robe drenched in blood, the cultivator scrambled up to kowtow, crying in despair, “Master!”
That cry caused Yuanwu’s raised hand to lower. His gaze darted away as though evading him, falling coldly upon Tang Shedu instead.
Wind and clouds churned in the sky, gradually forming a massive vortex overhead. The very center remained clear and void of clouds, leaving only heavy, solemn golden light directed at the white-haired old man as he slowly drifted upward.
With wild hair and bulging eyes, Yuanwu looked at the golden grains and iron powder pouring down like a torrential rain from the heavens, letting out an inhuman, mournful wail.
Across Mount Qingchi, the storm of gold and iron rendered the mountain so dark that one could not see one’s own fingers. Everyone felt isolated as if marooned on an island, unable to discern the people or objects around them. True Person Yuansu’s expression grew grave. Raising the jade cup in his hand, he touched it lightly toward the sky from afar.
“Senior Brother... have a safe journey.”
‘In the first month, Tang Yuanwu of Qingchi underwent weapon dissolution. Golden rain poured like a cascade, falling iron like sand. Spiritual sense was shattered and dispersed, rendering near and far indistinguishable. When the golden rain subsided slightly and one stepped out to look, within less than eight zhang, the verdant peak had transformed into a mountain of gold.’
***
“Since that is the case, I must trouble you, Senior, to collect those Evil-Suppressing Stones. My family has some ties with the senior from Yuanwu Peak, and delivering them to Xunlin Plain can be considered fulfilling our sentiment.”
Having said this, Li Xizhi paused for a moment. Both of their expressions changed as they sensed the violent upheaval in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. In haste, one after the other, they rode the wind into the sky.
Qingsong Island.
There were already many Foundation Establishment cultivators on Qingsong Island. One could see figures of various colors gradually filling the sky, all turning toward the south. Their expressions were complex, mocking, or sneering as they whispered and discussed among themselves.
“Yuanwu has fallen!”
‘It seems Yuanwu truly has perished.’
Li Xizhi felt rather conflicted. Although that man’s relations with his clan had not been particularly good, he was a Violet Palace cultivator after all. He could only sigh softly and bow slightly to show his respect.
The crowd watched for a while until the distant storm of gold and iron soon subsided. Li Xizhi turned back, summoned the Qingchi Sect disciples down, and instructed them in Han Shizhen’s presence, “Having obtained clues from the peak master, I am making a trip to the Han family. Notify the others so they do not come to seek instructions in vain.”
Han Shizhen lowered his head in silence. The disciples took their orders and retreated, and only then did Li Xizhi offer an apology, “The sect has many rules. Please pardon me.”
“Not at all... not at all... as it should be.”
Han Shizhen observed Li Xizhi quietly. Seeing that his expression was calm as usual, he gestured, “Daoist... please...”
“Let us be on our way then.”
“I shall accompany you to that market town and, along the way, take a look at where this is in the Qunyi Straits.”
Keeping this on his mind, Li Xizhi flew into the distance toward the Qunyi Sea. The sea and sky stretched wide under the blazing sun, and the sea barbarians on the scattered islets below looked up one after another.
Riding the wind together, they descended into the market town two days later. Once the town’s grand array opened, Han family cultivators rushed forward to welcome them, addressing Han Shizhen as the family head.
Han Shizhen paid them no heed, remaining half a step behind Li Xizhi as he introduced the place with a gentle smile, “Please look, Daoist! This is my clan’s Tuliu Market.”
“Please come to the main hall to rest first, Daoist. I shall go inquire about the whereabouts of those rogue cultivators.”
Hearing this, Li Xizhi frowned slightly, sensing something amiss. He followed him into the hall and sat to the side. Han Shizhen stepped back two paces, exited the hall, and the smile on his face swiftly vanished.
A burly man approached from below with a grave expression. Han Shizhen asked in a low voice, “What did those people say?”
The burly man simply replied, “We searched the soul of one, and the rest are no longer in any usable shape.”
In truth, while Han Shizhen claimed to have released them, he had long flayed them, searched their souls, and seized Yuan Chengdun’s short staves for the Han family. Now feeling some regret, he muttered, “Had I known Li Xizhi was so sharp, I would not have coveted those short staves of Yuan Chengdun. It is hard to explain now. For fear that those few might misspeak and make him dislike my clan, I can only falsely claim they fled...”
Han Shizhen reentered the hall with a smile on his face and an apologetic tone, “Daoist! It was my recklessness. As soon as that group sold the goods, they scattered in all directions without lingering for a moment... It seems we were not fated for those short staves.”
Li Xizhi harbored no greed for such things and did not care, nor did he expose him. Waving his hand casually, he merely asked, “Is there any news of that location?”
Han Shizhen’s expression flickered slightly. Sitting in the seat of honor holding his teacup, Li Xizhi was enlightened and naturally did not believe him: ‘How could you, Han Shizhen, having carved out a foothold in the Eastern Sea, be any kind of benevolent soul? Upon learning there was a Foundation Establishment heritage, you undoubtedly seized those rogue cultivators under some pretext! You merely wanted to swallow that pair of Foundation Establishment magical artifacts. So it was soul searching; those rogue cultivators are likely dead.’
Han Shizhen quickly added, “Fortunately, my men inquired beforehand and already know the place.”
Having pocketed the short staves, Han Shizhen felt uneasy in his heart, so how could he say more? Nodding repeatedly, he rode the wind alongside Li Xizhi, flying straight toward the Qunyi Straits.
Han Shizhen brought the burly man along, flying directly toward an area between the mountains and the sea. He came to a leisurely halt over the water, and without even observing his surroundings, he immediately cupped his fists, “Family Head, Daoist, this is the place!”
‘How could ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators find such a secret realm without a dedicated method?’
The three split up and dove into the water. After searching for several days as time slipped by, Han Shizhen came to a slow halt on the seabed, having found nothing.
He paused repeatedly, gradually growing lax. Li Xizhi’s affairs were none of his concern to begin with; he had only been willing to exert himself out of greed and desire for that secret realm.
Having waited listlessly for a while, he sat beside a reef when a pair of boots suddenly appeared before his eyes.
The boots gleamed with shimmering blue and bright silver, exquisitely crafted with magnificent patterns, clearly no ordinary item. Before Han Shizhen could marvel at them, the astonishment in his mind rapidly turned into terror.
‘This is...!’
Thoughts raced through his mind like lightning. He looked up hurriedly into a pair of green pupils, so frightened that he cried out in misery, “This humble one...”
“Greetings... greetings, Great Demon of the Sea...”
After stammering a few words, various illusions suddenly manifested before him. The water and sky before his eyes swayed violently before plunging into deep darkness.
***
Li Xizhi naturally found nothing either, only discovering several Evil-Suppressing Stones on the seabed. Collecting them one by one, he settled in the depths of the ocean floor.
Stopping atop a reef with his eyes half-closed, he was just about to cast an incantation to summon the Immortal Mirror when his scalp tingled and his skeleton trembled. The pill within his Sea of Qi jumped violently, forcing him to halt.
Pausing briefly, Li Xizhi opened his eyes again and looked straight into a pair of green pupils.
Standing before him was a middle-aged man with a prominent nose, narrow eyes, and disheveled red hair. His robes gleamed with golden light, glittering like scales, standing no more than a fist’s distance away—so close that Li Xizhi could feel the chill radiating from him.
In his hands, he held two heads, both staring blankly toward the sky with hollow eyes, their expressions bearing a faint trace of joy. One had tidy hair, while the other had disheveled whiskers.
‘Han Shizhen and his retainer!’
Separated for merely a few days, the two had already met violent deaths. Li Xizhi felt his hairs stand on end as he watched the colorful light of the other party’s divine ability flow out from under his feet, enveloping him like lightning.
Immobilized, Li Xizhi could only meet the cold gaze of this Violet Palace expert. Seeing the man narrow his eyes, Li Xizhi’s voice rang out in a clear, resonant tone that clashed with his inward panic as he gasped, “A Violet Palace... cultivator...”
Hearing these words, the Violet Palace expert swept his cold gaze across him. His golden robes shimmering, he replied, “Someone wants you dead.”
His eyes were dark, devoid of visible emotion. Appearing to be in a playful mood, he chuckled, “Who sent you... Si Boxiu or Chi Zhiyun? Is it Sui Guan?”
Watching the colorful light of the divine ability swirl beside him into deep azure, casting a shimmering blue glow over his face, Li Xizhi’s mind raced in a flash.
Seeing the two heads in the Violet Palace expert’s hands, how could Li Xizhi fail to understand? Leaving such a prime location as Qingsong Island for him to guard also made it convenient for him to enter and exit the Eastern Sea. Someone in the sect was undoubtedly waiting for this very scene! As long as he died cleanly, Qingsui Peak would inevitably fall into the hands of the Yuan family!
Shaking his head, Li Xizhi answered respectfully, “Answering True Person! It was neither of those two True Persons. Junior came of his own accord. My master has been missing for over a decade, yet the sect made no response. Duty-bound, Junior came in person to search, never intending to offend Senior.”
The Violet Palace True Person slowly paused, revealing a peculiar look. He blinked, the green hue in his eyes deepening as though he had discerned many things from Li Xizhi. With his red hair floating in the water, he sneered in his heart:
‘Those few rogue cultivators came and went unharmed; there was bound to be some restrictive pact. Yet Chi Zhiyun suppressed it and kept quiet, waiting for you to stumble into it!’
‘What remarkable courage!’
Chapter 512