Chapter 78

Cheng Qian is someone who is unwilling to pause and relax even for a second. He hasn’t had such a long sleep for who knows how many years, in which he even has a storied dream. In that dream, he isn’t a powerful cultivator who can control the elements and face lightning from the Heavens, but only a poor scholar from a humble origin. He is so poor that he is unwilling to throw away damp writing paper but dry it under the sunlight. He also licks the bone-dry brush to make use of the remaining ink, which tastes slightly bitter. There is so little work for him to do that he feels desperate.

Ah yes, he also has a wife dressed in rough homemade clothes, who complains non-stop that he lives too messily or doesn’t bother to change his clothes. That spouse of his leans on the threshold. Picking up his cup of tea, that person scolds, “You’re so poor that you save the dredge of your tea.”

Cheng Qian replies without bothering to look up. “Won’t that make me a good match for the shrill woman who is leaning on that threshold?”

“Shrill woman?” That person chuckles. “Why don’t you have another look and see who I am?”

Cheng Qian confusedly looks up. The sight that slams into his eyes is an arrogant young master dressed in white. That person looks at him with a vague smile. His peach-blossom eyes are full of an indescribable allure.

Cheng Qian’s heart quickens. He wakes up in a second, but still feels like he is in a dream.

He stares in a daze for a long while. What he sees is the bright moonlight outside the window and the distant stars. There is a cool aura like autumn dews in the room. His body is covered by a thin blanket. For a moment, he has the illusion that he returned to that mortal life again.

Yan Zhengming is sitting by the door with his back to Cheng Qian. Using a bamboo leaf as a flute, he plays a severely out-of-tune melody, which disturbs the peace around him.

Cheng Qian is rudely roused from his dream-like reverie by his senior brother’s unique leaf flute performance. As the desire to throw the incense burner at Yan Zhengming’s head completely washes away all feeling of attraction in the dream, he can’t help coughing pointedly and saying, “Why don’t you go back to your room and play there?”

Yan Zhengming’s maddening leaf flute melody completely extinguishes. Without turning back, he says in a calm tone, “I’ve been playing here for three days already. The insects in the grove have likely all taken their families and run away. Only you don’t see or hear anything.”

Then he turns over. His face is utterly blank like a still lake, his eyes are like deep wells filled with the darkness of the night, his voice is like a banked flame, as he says, “Forget cultivators who have formed their primordial spirits, even mortals don’t sleep like death as you did. What is actually in that wooden sword?”

Cheng Qian replies without blinking, “There is sword will in it.”

Yan Zhengming’s eyes twitch. “Stop talking nonsense. You think I can’t find out by myself? There is obviously a spiritual awareness in that wooden sword!”

Cheng Qian’s mind has been still lagging after waking up. Hearing that, he is completely wide awake out of fear.

The sword will in the wooden sword is none other than a part of his primordial spirit. He can’t be found out so soon? However, he has been unconscious in the past days. There is no way that spiritual awareness is stirred up. Can his senior brother be so sharp?

He stares fixedly at Yan Zhengming for a moment, wondering if he is being duped. He calmly wrinkles his eyebrows and says, “Of course there is a spiritual awareness in the wooden sword. The sword will of Fuyao Wooden Sword is like a living being in itself.”

Cheng Qian’s guess is on the money. Yan Zhengming is really just trying to trick him.

Yan Zhengming quickly realises from this line of Cheng Qian’s that he won’t be able to dig up anything else. He angrily turns around, presses Cheng Qian’s shoulder, and lifts his chin up. Cheng Qian’s lips are blanched. He still looks tired even with a three-day sleep. It is obvious that he is suffering from some internal injury.

Yan Zhengming smiles coldly. “Even if you refuse to say anything, can I not investigate by myself?”

As soon as those words are spoken, Cheng Qian feels a gust of spiritual energy enter his meridians from the major acupoint Jian Jing1. Because his primordial spirit is damaged, all of his spiritual energy has been gathering in his inner mind to fix the injury. He is caught off guard, so he is completely unable to stop the intruding energy.

As that spiritual energy ray charges into his body, Cheng Qian cleverly groans quietly, then bends his body, as if he is in great pain. He has never been so smart in his whole life.

Someone like Cheng Qian wouldn’t bat an eye even if the world were falling apart. Ever since his childhood, he has been a stubborn asshole, who would swallow his blood in when his teeth are broken in a fight. As he very rarely shows that he is in pain, the act is especially effective. Even if his performance is quite stiff and lacking in many aspects, it is more than enough for Yan Zhengming, who has a talent for imagining the worst.

Sect Leader Yan immediately forgets that he is conducting an interrogation. His face pale from fear, he immediately extinguishes the energy ray and gathers Cheng Qian into his arms, then stammers, “What’s wrong? Did I overdo it? Uh… I…”

Thus, Cheng Qian discovers a new trick to deal with his senior brother, which is effective far beyond his expectation. Though feigning great suffering cannot be used regularly, it can be very useful in key moments for scaring the other side. Accordingly, he resolutely frowns and shakes his head without uttering a sword.

Yan Zhengming springs up. “Let me get you some water.”

Cheng Qian takes a peek. Picking the right timing, he makes his voice stuck in his throat and says timidly, “What actually happened was, I went to the Valley of No Sorrow and met a piece of our Master’s soul there.”

Yan Zhengming is at a loss.

“It was our Master who suggested the method of using the wooden sword as the container for the sword will,” Cheng Qian goes with the flow and says without any shame. Their Master is dead anyway. There is no witness to counter his words. “It wasn’t my own idea.”

Yan Zhengming is nearly drowned in his guilt, such that he dares not even look at Cheng Qian’s face. At that moment, even if Cheng Qian claimed that the moon was square, his heart would make him believe it.

The dignity of Sect Leader Yan is about to go with the dust that is regularly cleaned out from the second Qing An Abode.

Cheng Qian lets out a sigh in relief, as his most senior brother is scared off with just a couple of his lines. He feels that he has used up all of the wit accumulated from his birth for that one instance.

Yan Zhengming diligently uses white silk to clean the tea cups on the table and prepares to pour the water. Watching his profile, Cheng Qian is suddenly startled.

Can there be… a link between the piece of primordial spirit that was cut off and his awareness?

As soon as this thought appears, his awareness suddenly connects to a strange piece of mind. Cheng Qian’s vision blurs, as he feels like he is divided into two. A half of him stays unmoving on the divan, the other seems to be in the wooden sword. Through the serene sword wind, he can see a trace of faint black energy not far away.

At that moment, the cup in Yan Zhengming’s hand falls onto the ground with a clang. Cultivators have very sharp senses, that they can feel someone’s gaze on them. Needless to say, he can feel someone is snooping in his inner mind. He only doesn’t know the cause of that.

Cheng Qian quickly realises that he has been too sloppy. He hastily cuts off the strange connection, while donning a calm face, as if nothing happened.

Yan Zhengming frowns and clears away the shards on the ground with a flick of his hand. On full alert, he investigates his surroundings, but doesn’t find anything. He ends up thinking that it was just a hallucination from too much tension.

He pours another cup for Cheng Qian and places it by the divan. After a moment of thinking, he can’t help running his mouth off again. “Don’t make other people worried like that.”

Cheng Qian watches him, and quietly contemplates the timing for investigating the heart demon that he refuses to talk about. As Yan Zhengming meets Cheng Qian’s eyes, his throat suddenly becomes dry, as his heart becomes a mess in just a second.

He hastily coughs and says in an attempt to cover it up, “You never give me a moment of quiet. In the worst case scenario, what would I explain to our Master in the Underworld?”

Cheng Qian thinks to himself, “I? Needing you to speak for me?”

Annoyance rises in his heart, but before he shows it, he hears Yan Zhengming sighing softly. As a result, he quietly swallows back the words that are on the tip of his tongue.

Yan Zhengming places a hand behind his back and runs his thumb over his fingertips. However, the awkwardness keeps lingering on. He feels that he shouldn’t be so distant to Cheng Qian, but there is no way he can get closer or touch Cheng Qian a little without his conscience protesting. In the end, he makes a dry cough and says, “Heal yourself. I’ll watch over you.”

Having said that, he sits down by the door again. With his mind being somewhere else, he picks the leaf he threw on the ground, and forgetting how dirty it is, he places that leaf on his lips. Nevertheless, even if he forgets his own cleanliness habits, Cheng Qian remembers very well his ‘heavenly’ music. Feeling that he would lose his mind if he must hear that sound anymore, Cheng Qian hastily speaks up, “Don’t play in front of my place!”

Yan Zhengming: “…”

A black insect slowly crawls on the leaf.

At that moment, there is the sound of footsteps from nearby. Yan Zhengming is startled. As he looks up, he sees Tang Zhen, who is approaching with a small ceramic jar in his hand.

“Tang-xiong,” Yan Zhengming throws the leaf away and stands up.

“Has my young friend woken up?” Tang Zhen says as he hands over the ceramic jar. “This body can’t last much longer, so I have to part with you tomorrow. Thank you very much for your hospitality. These pills are very good for internal injuries. Please give them to him.”

Yan Zhengming hastens to express his gratitude. Without any word, Tang Zhen glances at Cheng Qian from a distance. After a neutral nod, he turns and leaves.

Liu Lang waits for him with a lantern in hand just outside the bamboo grove. Tang Zhen takes the lantern and says with a sigh, “Besides extraordinary cultivators of both righteous and demonic paths, Fuyao Sect sure breeds a lot of romantics.”

Liu Lang’s response is just silence. Tang Zhen laughs softly. Putting a hand behind his back, he says, “But that’s understandable. The cultivation life is boring. What else is there for them to do besides having some feelings?”

He coughs a little during that speech. Liu Lang reminds him, “Senior Tang, the aura of death on your face is getting worse.”

“Oh,” Tang Zhen wipes the corner of his mouth. “People like you and me don’t need to get involved so deeply with anyone. It isn’t bad just to ensure our own survival first. I heard that young Nian Daoyu wishes to stay and request Sect Leader Yan for him to join Fuyao Sect. Don’t you too want that too? I keep having to go into seclusion during my travels, so it’s likely I don’t have enough energy to guide you in cultivation.”

There is no skin left on Liu Lang’s face, so no expression can be shown there. He replies calmly, “Senior Tang, I’ll follow you.”

Tang Zhen doesn’t waste anymore time talking. He simply waves his hand, as if it makes no difference to him whether Liu Lang follows him or not. He is like a moth that goes with the flow of an unknown fate. During their talk, the two of them quickly leave Fuyao Estate and disappear like two shades.

In the early morning of the next day, Yan Zhengming, who is covered in dew, opens his eyes as if sensing something. He turns and looks at Cheng Qian. After confirming for himself that Cheng Qian is alright, he waves his hand to the bamboo grove and calls in their Second Brother, who is wearing a serious face, “What’s wrong?”

Li Yun replies, “The Celestial Divination Bureau people came again. When they came the last time when you were still unconscious, I already turned them away. Looks like they’ve been hanging around here, and show up again now because they saw you left your seclusion after making the next step in cultivation.”

“Celestial Divination Bureau?” Yan Zhengming frowns and declares without thinking, “Just do what Xiao-Qian said and kick them out.”

Li Yun teases, “What if Xiao-Qian told you to marry them?”

Yan Zhenming: “…”

Li Yun sighs, “My Sect Leader, I didn’t know you had the tendency of a ruler misled by…”

Before Li Yun can say “love”, Yan Zhengming quickly mutters a spell and shuts his crow’s mouth.

Being blocked from speaking, Li Yun indignantly stares. He feels that his senior brother is like an evil stepmother and makes his life harder than that of a neglected orphan, that he is no better than an old wooden spoon that people leave rotting on the ground without a care.

Li Yun thinks, full of righteous anger, “I should take Puddle and leave. We can wander the whole world as beggars!”

Hearing the conversation, Cheng Qian immediately opens his eyes. “Most senior brother, the last time they came here, you were still in danger and I was about to enter seclusion to forge the sword, so I chased them away without any explanation. If they make an effort to wait all this time, I think we should meet them once. Huh, what’s wrong with Second Brother?”

Yan Zhengming quickly releases Li Yun from the spell. Li Yun coughs until his face becomes red. As if finding his strength again, he yells at Yan Zhangming, “Did you hear that? Did you hear that?!”

Yan Zhengming says, “Just hearing ‘Celestial Divination Bureau’ annoys me. Why should I meet them?”

Cheng Qian hesitates a little, then tells a simplified version of how he met Tong Ru and Muchun Zhenren in the Valley of No Sorrow. At the end, he says, “Our disciple grandfather said the one who had tricked him to enter the Three Lives mystic site had ‘met their retribution’. Though he didn’t say it out loud, I feel he implied the Celestial Divination Bureau. What has been going on inside there must be much more complicated than what first appeared.”

Having heard the full story, Li Yun can’t help frowning. “A million lives. Did your disciple father say that?”

Cheng Qian asks, “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve been in seclusion a lot, so maybe you don’t know about what has been happening outside,” Li Yun says, “But from what I know, in the last two hundred years, there has been no significant disaster, whether natural or manmade. Even the rebellion of Prince An a few years ago was much noise but little substance. It didn’t cause that many deaths. How are we supposed to explain this loss of a million lives? Can’t it be…”

Cheng Qian’s eyes darken. “The remaining soul of our disciple father is still imprisoned. The seal over Fuyao Mountain hasn’t been opened. If what our disciple father wished from that stone is ‘the restoration of his sect’, that wish hasn’t been fulfilled yet. In other words, the price of a million lives hasn’t been paid. Will Han…”

Before he can finish his thought, the clear sky suddenly darkens, as black clouds from all sides gather. The rumble of thunder can be felt.

Yan Zhengming raises a finger and tells Cheng Qian, “Spare your words. You must not attempt to uncover Heaven’s Will.”

Cheng Qian’s eyes darken. That means he is on the mark.

After a moment of silence, Yan Zhengming stands up, “Let’s go meet them.”

“Most senior brother,” Li Yun suddenly calls out to him, “If… Han Yuan really…”

A bolt of lightning strikes, the flare of which shows how pale Li Yun’s face is.

Li Yun says, “What will you do?”

Will you protect him despite all of the terrible wrongdoings? Or will you ignore all brotherly sentiments from our childhood and execute him according to the sect rules, which are so ancient that they seem to have a spirit of themselves?

Yan Zhengming pauses. He stands in silence for a long while, as the wind suddenly blows and makes his sleeves flutter. When he shows off or acts like a nuisance, he doesn’t look like a sect leader at all. However, in this moment, tied up in a dilemma, his face is grave just like his ancestors on Fuyao Mountain in ancient times.

Yan Zhengming doesn’t reply. He just shakes his head and turns to enter the falling rain.

As a gesture of good will, Wu Chengtian leaves all of his subordinates outside the estate. Taking only You Liang with him, he assumes a humble attitude. Puddle pours them tea, then after the line of ‘Please wait a moment”, she silently moves to one side and stands there like a statue.

Although she says nothing, Wu Changtian quietly makes his judgment about her. Of course Wu Changtian can recognise that she isn’t fully human. Even if her cultivation is still limited, with his experience, he can still tell that there is a formidable power inside her, which is being carefully locked down.

Wu Changtian can’t help looking at his neatly cut fingernails. He thinks about how Fuyao Sect’s lineage was once cut off and disappeared for more than a century, but their successors hold immense potential. Even if the sect is besieged with dangers, they will definitely live on. In contrast, the Celestial Divination sect looks powerful from the outside, but their inside is so rotten that the inheritance is unclear.

In the end, which side should be pitied?

At that moment, the sound of footsteps, which is intentionally made heavy and slow, can be heard. Squeezing his sword, You Liang raises his head and looks directly at the sword cultivator who has reached the ‘divine realm’ in front of him.

Yan Zhengming only apathetically glances past him without pausing in his steps. He slowly walks to the seat for the lord of the household, then not offering any greeting, he directs his attention to adjusting his pristine sleeves. After that, he wordlessly looks at Puddle. Following the script, she primly pours the tea and puts the cup on the small plate, which was carved with spells, on the table. With a soft sound, the cup of tea immediately cools down as it touches the spells, and a thin layer of vapour covers the cup.

It isn’t until then that Yan Zhengming takes a sip of tea. Then tapping the wooden table with the fan in his hand, he says coolly, “The Divination Celestial Bureau has never been our friends. For you two gentlemen to go all the way here, it isn’t unlike a fox that calls on a coop of chickens. Please go ahead, tell us what you are plotting.”

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1. Jian Jing acupoint: the acupoint on the shoulder.