Chapter 53

Inside the room, Liu Qingshi walked to the ancestral tablet and stood silently for a moment.

He reached out, picked up three incense sticks, lit them at the candle flame, then solemnly inserted them into the incense burner.

Thin blue smoke curled upward, blurring his resolute face.

“Old Jiang…”

His voice was low and hoarse, thick with uncontainable guilt and longing, “Are you well over there?”

He fell silent for a moment, as if waiting for an answer that would never come.

“Yiyi succeeded today in joining the Tianqing Sect’s outer sect.”

He spoke slowly, as if chatting with an old friend seated across from him, “That girl is determined—she’ll surely go farther than I ever did. If you’re watching from above, be glad for her.”

“Zhao Gang has also broken through to Hua Jing—he’ll soon bring Shi Lei to Fucheng to seek me out.”

He paused, a bitter curve tugging at his lips, “In his letter, he said Shi Lei misses you… I didn’t know how to reply.”

“Old Jiang…” His voice suddenly choked, his hands clenching at his sides, “That night, I couldn’t find you. I… I’m sorry.”

The blue smoke swirled, casting his resolute face in flickering light and shadow.

He stood there, motionless, like a stone statue, turning all his guilt and self-reproach into silent stillness.

Outside the window, Jiang Ye stood quietly in the shadows, watching the rigid back inside, watching the curling blue smoke, watching the ancestral tablet bearing his own name.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Seventy years alive, he’d seen too many deaths, endured too many partings—he thought his heart had turned to iron.

Yet now, staring at that cold tablet, at that silent back, he felt his eyes grow damp.

He’d never imagined that this lonely old man, with no family or kin, would one day be so deeply remembered.

“Master Liu…”

He silently called out in his heart, a thousand words reduced to the faintest sigh.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t let even a whisper of his breath escape.

He simply stood there, like a withered tree fused with the darkness, burying every complex emotion deep within.

After a long while, Liu Qingshi finally moved.

He bowed deeply before the tablet, then turned and walked heavily out of the room.

The door softly closed behind him, sealing the blue smoke and silence inside.

Jiang Ye remained where he stood, staring at the closed door, for a long, long time.

“Master Liu, rest easy—as long as I live, the Liu family will know peace for generations.”

Jiang Ye cast a deep glance at the room housing his own tablet and murmured softly.

Then, as quietly as he’d come, he slipped out of the estate.

Jiang Ye did not return to the mountain immediately.

His mood was heavy, so he wandered aimlessly along Fucheng’s Changjie.

The night market had just begun, lanterns dim and flickering.

Shops lined both sides of the street—vendors shouted, haggling echoed, children laughed, and the warmth of mortal life washed over him.

He walked slowly, paused to watch a street performance, lingered briefly before a noodle stall, then turned into a refined jade shop.

The shop attendant greeted him, seeing his Tianqing Sect official robe, and grew even more respectful.

Jiang Ye said nothing, browsed casually, then pointed to a translucent green jade box and asked, “How much?”

“My lord has excellent taste! This is premium green jade—fine-grained, smooth as fat, perfect for storing medicinal herbs…”

The attendant launched into an endless description.

Jiang Ye waved him off, tired of the chatter, paid outright, and tucked the jade box into his robe.

He bought this box not to store herbs, but to prepare for housing the fire centipede.

After leaving the jade shop, he walked a little longer on the street, fully suppressing the turmoil in his heart, then turned toward the Tianqing Sect.

By the time he returned to the Tianqing Sect’s Shanmen, night was deep.

The towering gate loomed solemn in the darkness, flanked by rows of stone lanterns glowing with faint blue flames, casting the stone steps in flickering light.

He climbed the steps at a steady pace; when passing the area where outer sect disciples lived, he unconsciously slowed.

He looked up.

Among the scattered dwellings, tiny lights glowed.

“That girl Yiyi must be living in one of those rooms.”

His aged eyes flickered slightly.

He wanted to go see how she’d settled in, but then he thought better of it.

It was late at night—a decrepit old man sneaking around to spy on a young female disciple? That would be improper.

“Forget it. I’ll see her tomorrow morning.”

He shook his head, suppressing the impulse.

“I hope that girl adjusts well in the Tianqing Sect.”

He mused inwardly.

Liu Yiyi was cold-natured, awkward with people, unlike Su Yan’s smooth tact.

The outer sect of the Tianqing Sect had far more disciples than the old Qingshi Martial Academy.

Where there are people, there is the Jianghu.

Jiang Ye worried her cold demeanor might cause her to suffer small slights within the sect.

So he’d have to keep an eye on her.

The night was deep, moonlight like water.

Jiang Ye moved silently through the herb garden as usual.

His figure was a shadow merging with the dark, not even disturbing the insects’ chirping.

“Another piece of trash.”

A fire centipede had just crawled from the soil, not yet reaching the nearest Tiankui herb, when two slender twigs pinched it firmly.

Caught on sight!

Jiang Ye’s technique was now flawless.

He glanced at the faint fire mark on its belly, twisted his wrist, and with one casual slash, cut the centipede in two—it fell to the ground.

He was about to rise and search for the next prey

Suddenly.

Sssss—!!!

A sharper, distinctly different hiss emerged from the soil not far behind him.

“Huh?!”

Jiang Ye, with his acute senses, spun around, eyes narrowing.

At the edge of the herb field, beside the root of a Tiankui herb, a fire centipede was cautiously emerging from the soil.

It was no more than half a foot long—smaller than its kind.

Yet its entire body glowed crimson as if scorched by flame, its carapace shimmering faintly with dark gold luster, strikingly vivid under the moonlight.

What startled Jiang Ye most was its audacity.

After emerging, it made no attempt to sense its surroundings—instead, like a crimson flash, it shot up the nearest Tiankui herb, opened its fearsome mouth, and began devouring without a trace of caution.

It ate ravenously, its half-foot body swaying as if savoring a grand feast, utterly unaware that a withered figure had silently arrived behind it.

“Bold!”

Jiang Ye silently praised, two sharpened twigs already sliding soundlessly from his hands.

Shh!

A barely audible whisper of air.

The centipede, mid-bite, sensed danger, recoiled, and curled its body to flee into the soil.

But Jiang Ye was faster—he didn’t let it leap from the stem; the twigs snapped shut like iron bars, lifting it into the air.

Sssss!!

The moment caught, the centipede emitted a piercing, ear-splitting hiss—unlike the futile struggles of its kin.

It thrashed violently, its countless legs flailing in the air, its strength so great it made Jiang Ye’s twigs tremble.

It opened its fearsome jaws, aiming straight for Jiang Ye’s fingers, a ferocious, no-holds-barred attack.

Feeling the immense struggle, utterly disproportionate to its size, Jiang Ye’s eyes flashed with sudden delight, “Good lad! Compact and powerful!”

So small, yet so strong—its quality must be exceptional.

He lifted the writhing creature, examining its belly under the moonlight.

One glance—and his aged eyes blazed with uncontrollable joy.

On its belly, a fire mark blazed crimson as blood, deep enough to reveal bone, glowing fiercely under the moon like a blazing sun.

“Good! Good! Good!!!”

He couldn’t help but murmur three praises in a row, a wide, long-awaited smile spreading across his aged face.

After days of labor, after catching a hundred pieces of trash, he’d finally caught a true treasure.

"This is a supreme fire centipede!!!"

He was about to examine the treasure closely, but when his gaze swept over its mouth, his pupils shrank sharply.

Inside its fearsome, gaping maw, it bore two pairs of deep red mandibles.

What is going on here?

A normal fire centipede has only one pair of mandibles.

This is clearly recorded in the Book of Venom Control.

But this one before him has an extra pair—four fangs glinting with a cold, eerie light under the moon, like four scythes dipped in deadly poison.

“Could it be...”

Jiang Ye’s heart lurched violently; a shocking thought exploded in his mind like thunder:

“Could this be a variant of the fire centipede?!”

The Book of Venom Control once recorded that among all venomous insects, there exist exceedingly rare mutated individuals—some with abnormal body sizes, others possessing unique innate abilities, known as “variants.”

As for how these variants come to be, the Book of Venom Control offers no clear explanation.

As his thoughts shifted sharply, the fire centipede he held, still thrashing wildly, suddenly opened its fearsome mouth—now bearing two pairs of mandibles—directly at his face—

Hssss!!

A cloud of crimson venomous mist erupted from its mouth, surging straight toward his face.

The mist was scorching and sweetly foul; merely drifting through the air, it made one feel a faint burning sensation.

Jiang Ye twisted sharply aside, barely avoiding the venomous cloud.

The mist landed on the ground; several leaves of Tiankui grass instantly withered into blackened ash, sending up thin trails of green smoke.

He was both startled and elated, staring at the tiny creature still writhing and snapping in his grasp, as if desperate to swallow him whole—his aged eyes blazed with intense light.

A fire centipede that spits venom...

The Book of Venom Control never recorded any such ability in ordinary fire centipedes!