Chapter 214: The Contradiction of the Big Man

Yue Commandery, Qin Prince’s Mansion.

In the vast hall, bamboo music circled as over a dozen beautiful maids danced gracefully.

Qin Tuo, slightly overweight, lay on his side, placing a white stone onto the go board.

With a soft snap, the stone landed on the tengyuan point, surrounded by black stones.

Logically, this white stone had no “breath,” yet the monk across from him, clad in a precept robe, dared not remove it.

“Heh, I played the wrong spot,” the Prince smiled at the monk. “Master, why not take the white stone?”

“The white stone was not misplaced,” the monk recited a Buddhist mantra. “This is precisely where you stand now.”

Qin Tuo paused, then burst into loud laughter. He rose, sharply flicking his long sleeve, and looked down. “All under heaven are my enemies—how do I break this deadlock?”

“No need to break it,” the monk whispered. “At the right moment, the black stones will turn white.”

Qin Tuo asked with interest: “How?”

“Win the people’s hearts.”

“Impossible.”

“Our Fomen will spare no effort to aid you. The Holy Child sent from heaven—must be you, Qin Prince!”

Hahaha!

Qin Tuo laughed wildly, his fat rippling like waves.

His voice echoed throughout the entire hall.

“The Daoist sect sits atop the imperial court, aiding the false emperor’s ascension to immortality, shining with glory. Your Fomen, envious, now turn to me…” Qin Tuo eyed the monk, smiling with narrowed eyes. “Do you truly think me a fool?”

“We dare not. Our Fomen offers full-hearted aid to the Qin Prince, seeking to win the people’s hearts for you.”

Qin Tuo smiled. “How? And these past days, many martial artists have appeared in my city, along with strange rumors—were you behind this?”

“Excellent… yes, it was our Fomen. This was merely a trial, to demonstrate our capabilities to the Qin Prince.”

“What use is it?”

“First, turn the martial artists into your allies.”

“Martial artists are indeed useful—once subdued, they serve well for reconnaissance and assassination. A proper path.” The Prince nodded slightly, then added: “But this has no real strategic value.”

“The martial artists are merely your token of allegiance. If you accept us, the local lords, powerful clans, and high officials will all feel the weight of your prestige—and at the right moment, they will rise from within to aid you.”

The Prince’s expression finally showed interest. “Oh? Then let me see what your token of allegiance truly brings.”

“Thank you, Qin Prince, for humoring us. In no more than two days, results will come.”

Hahaha.

The Prince laughed again.

…

Outside Yue Commandery, along the imperial road, Shaolin Temple now faced off against Zhenwu Sect.

Master Kurong raised his hand in a flower-gesture Buddhist salute. “Daoist Xuan Fengzi, you owe us an explanation.”

Xuan Fengzi lowered his hand from his face and spoke slowly: “No explanation needed. You truly think we don’t know what your bald monks are plotting here?”

“So you saw us as prey from the start.”

“So what!” Xuan Fengzi snorted.

Then he whispered: “Taiji Sword Array—kill these bald monks first.”

Instantly, over twenty Daoists formed a strange sword formation and advanced swiftly toward Shaolin.

“You think I fear your treacherous Daoist bastards!” Kurong snarled. “Twelve Bronze Men, hold the front! Others, form the Demon-Slaying Array—follow me and charge!”

Dozens from both sects immediately clashed.

All were martial experts, fighting in formations—their combined strength far exceeded what any ordinary martial sect could match.

Ji Feng watched the battle and asked: “Young Master An, which side should we aid?”

“Watch,” An Xin smiled. “The Daoists and Buddhists are tearing each other apart—we—”

At that moment, screams erupted from the forest behind them.

The cries rose and fell, filled with desperate wails—clearly brutal.

What’s happening!?

Ji Feng and An Xin glanced at the fierce battle between Shaolin and Zhenwu, ignored it, and entered the forest—only to find several martial sects, having slipped away from the earlier “stimulating battlefield,” now clashing with paper soldiers.

And among the paper soldiers stood a figure entirely wrapped in black cloth.

Around it, a crowd of martial artists surrounded it from all sides.

And in their eyes—nothing but greed.

The martial artists stared at the paper soldiers guarding the black figure, finding them troublesome.

They had already launched one assault—but the paper soldiers had blocked it.

Though over a dozen paper soldiers had been destroyed, over a dozen of them were seriously wounded, two even dead.

A bearded giant cursed: “Damn it! This paper sorcery—if I find out whose lineage this is, I’ll destroy his entire family!”

Many stared at him.

The bearded man looked quite proud.

At that moment, An Xin and Ji Feng walked in, just catching his words.

Their expressions differed.

An Xin’s face was grave; Ji Feng nodded in agreement.

If possible, he too wanted to kill this man who wielded paper sorcery so well.

As for… killing his family—that depended.

If he was willing to surrender and become a retainer, his wife and daughters could still be taken.

After all, many techniques required bloodline inheritance.

As Tianyi Sect and Qingcheng Sect entered the scene, many turned to look.

An Xin stared at the black “object” in the midst of the soldiers and sighed helplessly.

Clearly, it was two people—a grown man holding a child, discernible from the silhouette beneath the black cloth.

This matched the rumors.

And that black cloth… An Xin recognized it: a Zhe Gui Robe, a large piece of it.

Zhe Gui Robes were typically possessed only by Spirit Hunters or certain noble families—martial artists had no right to touch them.

But that didn’t stop them from “finding” one.

Just… quietly.

Someone called out: “Young Master An of Tianyi Sect, we found this place first. By martial law, you must yield. We’d appreciate it.”

An Xin frowned.

Ji Feng spoke up: “Finders keepers!”

As soon as the words were spoken, the black object within the paper soldiers began to tremble.

The paper archers drew their bows again.

A series of sharp *ding-dang* sounds followed, and several martial artists were wounded.

Someone mocked: “Can’t even block paper arrows—pathetic.”

But then the paper archers stopped moving.

Their back quivers were empty.

The bearded man hefted his nine-ring greatsword. “I don’t want anything else—I don’t want that Linglong Jade Box. I want the Zhe Gui Robe!”

“You take it all—we’ll take what’s left!”

“You can have the Linglong Jade Box,” the bearded man grinned.

Others scoffed.

But all shared one thought: first, eliminate the paper soldiers.

An Xin thought for a moment, then spoke: “I don’t want the Zhe Gui Robe. I don’t want the Linglong Jade Box. But the people inside—give them to me.”

He thought: at least save these people for Li Lin.

Ji Feng looked at him. “Young Master An, lust is a grave sin.”

You've misunderstood me, Master Ji.

Ji Feng breathed a sigh of relief—he still hoped his daughter would marry An Xin, to strengthen ties between the sects.

“Enough talk…” the bearded man roared. “I’m going—first come, first served!”

He charged forward.

His move triggered a rush from others, all fearing they’d be too late.

But as they surged forward, the bearded man suddenly halted—and stepped back.

He watched those rushing ahead, a smug smile on his face.

(End of Chapter)