Chapter 100: The Sword Is Nearly Complete

“It was just an illusion.”

The blind man loosened and clenched his fingers, tightening his grip on the knife.

The sensation of gripping a branding iron vanished the moment the wild soldier souls scattered.

Yet the lingering pain in his hand still burned slightly.

Zheng Hui squinted his old eyes, constantly wiping tears with his sleeve, staring at the corpse within the tree.

“Even a corpse still has this kind of power—after Hai Donglai killed them all, he probably won’t get far.”

Zheng Hui called out loudly to the group, “Has anyone’s vision improved at all?”

“Search everywhere—if he collapsed somewhere from his wounds, we can treat him in time.”

Chu Tianshu once again examined the battlefield.

After killing these men, Hai Donglai left no extra traces.

From the scene, it was impossible to tell which direction he had taken.

Even injured, this commander of the Right Division of the Internal Guards excels at erasing his trail better than anyone else.

Chu Tianshu chose a direction, walked two or three li, found no trace, and returned.

The others had found nothing either.

Zheng Hui frowned, “The envoy team dying here is already a major problem—if the Internal Guards commander also goes missing within Nanzhao territory...”

“No, he won’t.”

Chu Tianshu said, “Once martial skill reaches a certain level, as long as one remains conscious and able to move, one can seal the wounds, circulate qi and blood, and recover somewhat through self-healing.”

Hai Donglai’s fighting style clearly showed exceptional prowess in unarmed combat and astonishingly refined physical strength.

Not like Cheng the Blind, who relies on insight into techniques.

Nor like Zheng Hui, who overly emphasizes the supernatural effects of soldier souls.

Hearing Chu Tianshu’s judgment, Zheng Hui relaxed slightly.

“That’s right—the Internal Guards likely have many hidden relay stations in Nanzhao. Hai Donglai can easily find a place to hide and someone to fetch medicine and treat his wounds.”

Zheng Hui shook off his earlier shock, his mind returning to its usual sharpness. He summoned a guard and gave him orders.

“Take my token to the nearest prefectural office, summon men to collect these corpses, conceal them, disguise them as cargo, and secretly transport them to Wang Cheng.”

After the guard left, Zheng Hui stroked his beard, sinking into thought.

Chu Tianshu glanced at the token.

【Sun Wheel: Atop the Snow Mountain, worshipping the sun, all sight turns white, radiant light becomes flame.】

【On the battlefield of the Soldier Lord, bloodlust transforms into wild soldier souls.】

【Trait: Intense light penetration, illusory flame scorching the body; after consuming blood, it controls corpses to fight.】

The quantity of the “Sun Wheel” as a demonic material seemed twice that of the “Snow River Collapse.”

Too bad both Soldier Lords were martial artists—one even a corpse without a heart, its power greatly diminished. Even combined, their soldier souls couldn’t match the harvest after Chu Tianshu’s battle with Old Nie.

But it still far exceeded the minimum standard required for one simulation.

Considering the mental force of the Three-Seven Divine Sword would manifest as transparent flame,

Chu Tianshu had no hesitation—he chose the “Sun Wheel” trait as the primary foundation.

【...Simulation complete.】

【Lesser Yang Blood River Cart: Daily refining of essence and qi fills the body with radiance; blood river circulation reverses yin to yang.】

【Humans possess the Zi-Wu flow, attuned to the sun’s refining and the moon’s refining.】

【The blood and qi of killing weapons, nourished by slaughter, follow yin and belong entirely to moon-refining; yet solitary yin cannot give birth—it scatters and lacks solidity.】

【Therefore, use the sun’s fire qi to transform it, infusing the Great Yin with the essence of Lesser Yang—then refining weapons becomes twice as effective.】

Chu Tianshu’s mind flooded with vast information; thousands of lines churned within him, revealing endless subtleties, gradually settling into pure clarity.

Good—my sword, the soldier soul, is nearly complete!

The Nanzhao prefectural officials arrived with carriages and horses.

The corpses were collected, concealed, and transported southward toward Nanzhao’s capital.

Brilliant daylight hung high in the sky.

In Nanzhao’s capital, it was mealtime.

Every tavern and restaurant inside and outside the city buzzed with activity—except Wen’s Tavern, the best outside the city, which had recently closed its doors.

Passersby from the outskirts would glance to see if it had reopened, then sigh and head elsewhere.

“Hey, isn’t that Aunt Mo?”

An old peddler on the roadside spotted a familiar face and smiled, “You used to work as a cook at Wen’s Tavern—haven’t seen you in ages. Is it reopening?”

“Soon, soon—I’ll let you all know the moment it does.”

Aunt Mo was the woman who had cooked at the tavern—round-faced, slightly plump, smiling warmly as she chatted with neighbors.

Her brown headscarf matched her skin tone.

When Zheng Hui had given the order, he’d asked everyone at the tavern to stay at his residence.

To a Qingping official, this was a minor matter.

But to the tavern staff, it felt uneasy—they still wanted to return home each day.

Fortunately, they weren’t the main targets of the assassination, so moving about was still relatively safe.

Aunt Mo had no other family, but she couldn’t bear to leave her little house—or the few chickens she kept, which she collected eggs from every day.

Today, when she returned home, she first reached into the coop and gathered a few eggs before opening the door.

A dark shadow inside startled her.

“Who are you...”

The shadow stood with his back to her, one hand extended flat.

A small jade-green token, hung by a red cord, dangled from his hand.

Aunt Mo spun around, slammed the door shut, and knelt halfway, letting the eggs fall to the ground.

“Servant bows before the Commander.”

The black-clad man turned his head.

He wore a large black cloak covering his entire body, but beneath it was a slightly torn red robe.

His face was plain—no striking features, skin neither especially fair nor dark—ill-suited to the red robe.

Yet his gaunt appearance stood rigid, and the garish red robe on him became a chilling aura of menace.

“I am Hai Donglai of the Right Division.”

Hai Donglai studied the woman before him. “As the dossier states, you truly have never learned any martial skill.”

The Internal Guards were divided into Left and Right Divisions, yet their members spread across the land; most grassroots operatives were not assigned to either division.

Aunt Mo was one such grassroots operative.

Most people imagined the Internal Guards as arrogant censors and ruthless spies and assassins.

But those who needed to remain hidden long-term in one place were often ordinary people—least likely to draw suspicion.

Some grassroots Internal Guards were even recruited directly from the local population.

“Rise.”

Hai Donglai’s eyes flickered with many thoughts; his tone was flat.

“The tavern has better information. For years, your secret reports all mentioned working as a cook at a tavern and being well-informed. Has anything major happened in the capital lately?”

Aunt Mo rose, nervous: “Something has indeed happened recently.”

She recounted the incident with the Yuwen family’s assassins, the possible involvement of the Duan family in spreading rumors, and the monarch’s countermeasures.

“Oh? A physician mistaken for an Internal Guard?”

Hai Donglai’s expression shifted slightly. “You say his medical skill is truly exceptional?”

Aunt Mo was surprised. “Isn’t Dr. Chu an Internal Guard? I thought he was too—I just didn’t contact him, per protocol.”

Hai Donglai glanced at her.

Aunt Mo realized her mistake and quickly returned to the topic: “Dr. Chu’s medical skill is truly remarkable, and he’s also a good man...”

Hai Donglai cut her off: “At least he stands on the Tang side—that much even Old Fox Zheng Hui acknowledges, correct?”

Aunt Mo paused, then nodded firmly: “Yes.”

Hai Donglai seemed lost in thought for several breaths, then his gaze returned to Aunt Mo, his expression growing colder.

Only then did Aunt Mo notice the chill in his gaze, and fear crept into her voice: “Commander?”

“You talk too much, react too slowly, and lack judgment—you’ve become nothing but a countrywoman, no longer fit to be an Internal Guard.”

Hai Donglai slowly turned his gaze away, his tone unreadable.

“Then from now on, you won’t be an Internal Guard anymore.”

“Forget everything before. No matter what contact or secret signs appear—you, no longer an Internal Guard, must not respond!”

Aunt Mo was stunned: “But my dossier...”

“Your dossier was never noteworthy—and I’ve already destroyed it.”

Hai Donglai’s gaze pressed down, forcing Aunt Mo to lower her head.

As she bowed, she suddenly felt emptiness before her. When she looked up, the room was empty.

The window had somehow lifted open and now swayed gently shut.

Aunt Mo rubbed her face, bewildered.

So I’m not an Internal Guard anymore?

Is it because all the secret messages I've passed over the years were nothing but rumors any ordinary citizen of Nanzhao could hear?

When Mo Dama’s entire family was relocated to Nanzhao, several died of illness along the way.

It was just an old Inner Guard who helped this orphaned girl and left her this house.

All these years, she has acted exactly as her master taught her.

Mo Dama felt a profound sense of loss, yet also noticed a strange lightness in her chest; she stood frozen for a long while, her heart tangled, and without realizing it, she took a step toward the window.

Crack!

Mo Dama heard a sharp snap beneath her feet and stared down in daze.

“Oh no! My eggs!!”

(End of Chapter)