Li Zhouwei set down the small letters in his hand, having read them one by one, and passed them to Li Xuanxuan. The old man took them to examine closely, stroking his beard as he read aloud: “Yu Fuzi, secular name Wang Fu, originally hailed from Jian County in the State of Wu. Under his tutelage are three disciples, one of whom is a Foundation Establishment cultivator... He is now nearly a hundred years old. His master is Zhou Han of Changxiao Gate, who has been in secluded cultivation for many years without emerging...”
Changxiao Gate had, after all, been founded quite late; Changxiaozi, who established the sect, was still alive and in the prime of his years, exhibiting the vigor of a fledgling sect. Not only did everyone possess a Dao title, but there was often no blood relation between masters and disciples. Having read halfway through, Li Xuanxuan suddenly felt a headache coming on, muttering, “The Wang surname in Wu shouldn't have much clan influence either...”
Li Zhouwei nodded and softly replied, “In the past, Wu had the Yishui Wang family, a premier prominent clan. I hear that was a thousand years ago. Later, when Jiangnan fell into turmoil, the Yishui Wang family declined as well, but in their prime they were exceedingly prosperous, so to this day there are still many great cultivators surnamed Wang in Wu.”
Jiangnan had long been divided into Wu and Yue. Unlike northern dynasties where regimes changed rapidly, the immortal sects and aristocratic families here had completely sidelined the imperial lineages of both states, to the point that Wu and Yue had become mere regional designations; naturally, there were no real wars between states.
Moreover, news in Jiangnan was kept tightly under wraps, secretly recorded only by great families with centuries of heritage, so much so that regarding events from a millennium ago, not even the state title of the southern former dynasty was known. Li Xuanxuan inquired carefully, then read on:
“This person cultivates the Shaoyang nature; his immortal foundation is unknown... He holds three magical artifacts in hand—a bell, a sword, and a pearl—all possessing astonishing power. He has remained in the late stage of Foundation Establishment for many years, possessing outstanding strength.”
“Now emerging from his cave abode having obtained treasures, he has gone to Changxiao Gate's Xifeng Island in the East Sea to oversee it, leading Changxiao Gate cultivators to guard against Yu Fuzi's attacks.”
Changxiao Gate and Yu Fuzi had engaged in frequent back-and-forth friction in recent years, which had now escalated into open conflict, prompting the transfer of the powerful Li Jiang'ao there. Having finished reading, Li Xuanxuan knitted his aged brows and said in a low voice, “With news from the north being so grim, I fear we must wait longer to know the exact situation. As for Xifeng Island in the East Sea, or even the surrounding waters, has Zhouwei inquired about them?”
The Mingfang Sky Stone concerned Li Ximing's path to the Purple Palace, so Li Zhouwei naturally paid close attention. Having prepared well in advance, he answered softly:
“Changxiao Gate's Xifeng Island lies over a thousand li north of Fenkuai Island. The island is quite good, with a continuous chain of reefs forming a grand formation that provides ample defense.”
“As for Yu Fuzi's Tianzhu Island, it lies more than seven hundred li east of Fenkuai Island, overseen by a late Foundation Establishment cultivator... Blood has frequently been shed between the two factions... relations are quite hostile...”
Li Xuanxuan nodded silently. It was a good time to intervene, but the family could spare no manpower. He could only say consolingly, “Let us wait for now.”
A commotion arose outside the grand formation. An Siwei hurriedly stepped forward and said somberly, “Your Highness, Master Kongheng has returned!”
Li Zhouwei was stirred with emotion. Taking two or three quick strides out of the hall, he indeed saw the narrow-eyed monk standing before the terrace.
Li Zhouwei stepped forward to meet him. Kongheng lowered his voice, speaking heavily: “This subordinate... this subordinate was incompetent...”
“Quickly, bring him up!”
The monk's aura appeared relatively stable, though his robes were somewhat disheveled. The bronze zen staff in his hand rested steadily on the ground, his face tinged with shame.
“So you were not within the pass—has Yanshan Pass fallen?”
Kongheng shook his head. “More than ninety percent likely it has fallen...”
“Chenshui Mausoleum suffered a rebellion; Tang Shedu turned traitor, and the immortal path suffered a heavy loss...”
“Although Yanshan Pass has fallen, the situation at Chenshui Mausoleum might not be so dire.”
“Tang Shedu's goal is none other than defecting to Northern Buddhism. The contention between North and South is a great fated opportunity at the doctrinal level. With his deep foundation, high status, and great authority, once he joins the north, he can not only attain the rank of Lianmin, but his future path will be limitless.”
Kongheng, being a Buddhist cultivator of ancient lineage, had deduced Tang Shedu's intentions from prior clues and explained, “If he intends to practice the method of resolving karma and climbing affinity, he must submit himself under the seat of a Maha. Once successful, not only will multicolored light fill the skies and lotuses shower down, but we who cultivate Buddhist methods would also sense it.”
“My post was close enough to Chenshui Mausoleum, yet I felt nothing, and there was no news even when I reached Baixiang Valley. Something must have gone wrong; perhaps it was interrupted by a Purple Palace cultivator.”
Kongheng kept a low profile. Having traveled north and south for so many years without ever facing mortal peril, he naturally possessed many life-saving methods. Being alert early on, he had quickly fled east through the demonic smoke, reaching Baixiang Valley.
According to Qingchi Sect's deployment, Shui Ling and the others were a step behind Li Xuanfeng and Tang Shedu, heading north along Yanshan Pass. They were supposed to face the weakest demon cultivators and have the easiest task. Thus, though they were the weakest of the three contingents, they were not tense, flying north in high spirits. More than halfway there, they ran into an immortal cultivator and a demonic cultivator—one pursuing, one fleeing eastward. The two cultivators were unremarkable, but the magical artifact held by the demonic cultivator was radiant, ancient, and grand—clearly no ordinary object, possessing immense power, chasing the immortal cultivator all across the land.
Shui Ling took a couple of looks and couldn't tear his eyes away. He was notorious within the sect for his greed, even earning the title “Jinwu” for his covetous nature and distinctive immortal foundation and artifacts. Claiming to lend a hand, he had clearly been moved by avarice.
The cultivators had to veer slightly off course and fly a few extra li, but who could have expected that the demon cultivators seemed to know their route beforehand and had set a trap right there! They instantly fell into an ambush.
As a garrison cultivator of Yanshan Pass, Kongheng had also been mobilized to Chenshui Mausoleum. But keeping a low profile and never revealing much strength, he had been assigned alone under Shui Ling.
“Daoist Shui Ling was besieged by full seven demon heads... The demonic smoke was thick, and the cultivators were scattered and fleeing; no one was willing to look after him...”
“I reached Baixiang Valley, and in less than fifteen minutes the pursuers arrived... Midway, I saw Patron Yuan Huyuan... He fell into the demonic smoke with several members of the Yuan family and had no choice but to flee alone. Halfway through my flight, I happened upon him weeping loudly.”
Kongheng was alone under Shui Ling and had no other Li family members around him, so he ultimately did not know the specific news of Yanshan Pass. Li Zhouwei fell silent for a moment, then finally said, “Yet it is impossible to enter the demonic clouds to the north; we can only wait for news. The two elders possess great strength and should be fine... I only fear Xizhi and Wushao. Brother Zhi was wounded earlier, and now he is in danger.”
Kongheng considered for a moment and offered soft words of comfort.
“Since we have received news and major upheavals have occurred at the front, we should ask Granduncle to end his seclusion.”
Li Ximing had only been in seclusion for a month—for a Foundation Establishment cultivator, that was just the beginning of a session. Had matters not been so urgent, Li Zhouwei would not have wished to disturb him. Seeing Li Xuanxuan nod, he sent someone.
After a short wait, Li Ximing indeed landed before the hall riding the wind, the bright light about him not yet dissipated, bringing a warm wave of heat: “How are things at home?”
Li Zhouwei took him aside to speak, explaining the northern anomalies, and handed the small letter into his hands. Li Ximing read through it with mixed feelings and replied, “This matter looks difficult... We still do not know where Qinghong and the others have landed, or whether they are wounded... This person seems difficult to deal with, with a master and disciples, and intricate relations...”
Li Zhouwei comforted him, “No matter. This person has only just headed to the East Sea; he will not have an opportunity to be reassigned for at least four or five years. Let us first await news from the north.”
Li Ximing sat quietly by the table, holding the letter concerning Li Jiang'ao and folding it carefully. Outside the window, the snow had lessened considerably. A person hurried up from below, steps panicked and face terrified, rushing before the hall:
“Your Highness! Lady Xu is in labor...”
Li Zhouwei's gaze instantly fell upon him. He strode out of the great hall, swiftly rode the wind into the air, pierced through the clouds, skimmed across the frozen lake, and immediately landed before the central hall. Urgency burned in his heart, yet he could not show it. Steadying his pace, he flew patiently through the corridor until he drew near the gates of the rear palace. The scent of blood was already rising to his nose.
Li Zhouwei's ears twitched as he heard a flurry of startled cries. With a somber face, he pushed open the door and entered, his breath catching slightly.
A heavy, warm wind of blood surged forth, mingled with a strange fragrance that made one retch. The lamps before him had been knocked over in disarray, and specks of blood dotted the ground everywhere, reflecting a glint of gold beneath the lantern light. Two maidservants had retreated into a corner, clinging to each other and weeping, their low wails echoing in his ears. Following the trail of blood upward, he finally saw Xu Peiyu.
The surroundings were dim and somber. The woman lay motionless upon the couch, blood dripping down her legs. Crawling on the floor was an infant.
To one side, the Jade Court Guard had long been stunned, standing at a loss beside the child. His hands were covered in bloody bite marks; he didn't know whether to reach out or draw back. Seeing Li Zhouwei enter, he fell to his knees with a thud.
Misfortune upon the clan...
His heart sank inch by inch. Stepping through the pool of blood, he grabbed the child by the neck and lifted him up, only for the child to shriek, opening a gaping mouth lined with jagged, pale white teeth, thrashing to bite him. Yet how could he pose any threat to Li Zhouwei? With a gentle flick, magical power poured into him, rendering the child completely unable to move. Those oversized eyes stared blankly at him with ravenous greed.
He slowly lifted the child until their eyes were level, examining him closely for several moments. One hand cradled his lower body, while the other gripped his throat. His two fingers rested upon the child's small neck, motionless. His eyes narrowed slightly; the blood pulsing beneath the skin produced faint, delicate vibrations.
Li Zhouwei swept with his spiritual sense. The wondrous bond of bloodline made him understand that the child before him was neither a reincarnation nor the result of some evil sorcery. His body was wrinkled, his golden eyes already open. Both hands clung tightly to Peiyu's lower leg, his tongue licking at the dripping blood, his lips twitching to reveal glimpses of pale, sharp teeth.
His gaze fell upon Peiyu's young face. Her eyes had lost their luster, staring straight up at the ceiling. A piece of thin gauze lay quietly over her lips, motionless. The woman had breathed her last, lying pale and lifeless upon the couch.
Li Zhouwei had no heart to listen to the surrounding cries; a premonition he had long harbored was now confirmed, leaving him speechless.
The family had closely monitored Peiyu's condition. In the first month, her belly had suddenly swelled, but then grew quiet, seemingly developing slowly like a normal infant. The family administered medicine to nurse her body back to health. Everything had seemed to take a turn for the better, but no one expected she would give birth without warning in the sixth month. They had intended to contact Kongheng, but news of him had been cut off; though he had now returned, he was too late after all.
The hall was frighteningly quiet. The others dared not speak, nor did they dare leave, all kneeling on the ground, watching Li Zhouwei's boots stride up to the couch and pull away the thin gauze. The child was supposed to be his eldest son; Li Ximing had chosen a name for him in advance...
During the tense standoff between father and son, his hand steadily tightened around the infant's neck. Li Xuanxuan rushed forward in urgency, the old man's voice calling out twice: “Minghuang! Minghuang!”
As if nothing had happened, Li Zhouwei pulled up the thin gauze, wrapped it twice around his wrists, and bundled the child up—or rather than bundled, bound him tight. His gaze turned to linger upon Peiyu's face until Li Xuanxuan's gaze shifted from the blood on the ground to him. Holding the child, Li Zhouwei said somberly, “Wait a moment.”
Li Xuanxuan and Kongheng stood just a step behind him, watching Li Zhouwei hand the child over. The child bared its sharp white teeth, struggling to bite toward Li Xuanxuan's wrist. Yet Li Zhouwei had bound him tightly; he struggled in vain to turn over. Terrified by the mouthful of sharp teeth and golden pupils, Li Xuanxuan turned to look at Kongheng in disbelief: “Master! This...”
“How could... it be like this...”
Kongheng's eyes flickered. Lowering his gaze, he recited several Buddhist phrases before reaching out to take the child. After examining him closely, he said in a low voice, “He is not quite human... He was influenced by Your Highness. Mingyang is no ordinary element; it is not as gentle and balanced as the Twelve Qi. Given that past connection, it ultimately left its mark.”
Li Zhouwei listened for a moment and asked in a low voice, “Not quite human...”
Kongheng shook his head and explained, “In the scriptures of our Buddhist sect, the Bright King Shengming Jin, who attained the Dao through Mingyang, had taken seven wives while in the secular world. The concubines bore seven sons, all of whom became enemies of the Dharma. They swept up winds and seized light, slaughtering countless people... They were the Seven Demon Heads...”
Li Zhouwei had no heart to listen to this any longer; a premonition he had harbored for a long time was gradually confirmed in his heart, rendering him unable to utter a single word.
Li Zhouwei lifted the woman's remains, excused himself with an apology, and stepped out first. The hall remained permeated with a thick, suffocating stench of blood, mingled with a sickening, bizarre fragrance.
Li Xuanfeng and he paused for a moment above the brightly glistening blue waters, not venturing further in. Lingu Rao gazed downward with a solemn gaze, while Li Xuanfeng pondered: “Since Yuanxiu, Qiushui, and the others are in the Great Void, watching from right above Chenshui Mausoleum, why should we need to survey it? The blue water of Chenshui Mausoleum is certainly abnormal; it must be that [Daning...”
Chapter 580