Chapter 119: The Investiture of the Gods

The guests outside the private room were too noisy, but Xiao Yu couldn’t kick them out, even though she very much wanted to.

She came over to greet them intending to “upgrade their cabin”—she would pay out of her own pocket to move them to a distant private room and seal off the nearby tables, creating a slightly quieter environment for Qingsong Laozu’s conversation.

If Liu Gugu had been right at the door, she would have left it to Liu Gugu to handle.

But Liu Gugu had vanished somewhere.

This wasn’t much of a problem for Xiao Yu; she planned to handle it herself.

In brothels, girls call patrons “Elder” or “Young Master”; underage daughters call their fathers “Dad” or “Elder”—it’s normal.

She casually called out “Dad,” and the several middle-aged and elderly men in brocade robes, who had been drinking and playing dice, all turned to look. They said nothing aloud, but inwardly accepted and agreed.

Then the Purple Mansion began fully deducing the “Method of Eliminating Moles and Hairs.”

“Mole and Hair” was the nickname she had given the mysterious strongman.

He was of medium build, wearing a slanted square official’s cap embroidered with characters for Fortune, Prosperity, and Longevity.

His light blue, gold-threaded cloud-patterned brocade robe, like a bamboo leaf, tightly wrapped his stout, short body.

But “stout” was not his most striking feature.

The most eye-catching was a black mole, the size of a broad bean, centered on his right plump cheek, upon which grew a golden hair two inches long.

The golden hair was thick, long, and gleaming, like a strand of gold thread—so damn ostentatious.

Xiao Yu suspected he was hiding his identity.

Because from his behavior and mannerisms, he “should” have absolutely no martial skill.

His steps were unsteady, his center of gravity unstable, his movements swaying, his speech breathless.

His greenish tongue coating, dark shadows under his eyes, and bloodshot eyeballs all indicated his body was weak—all external signs pointed to him being an ordinary man, yet the Purple Mansion was working at full capacity for him.

“Ah, Liu Gugu told me she wanted to move all of you ‘Dads’ to better seats.”

Her mind spun through countless thoughts, yet her words paused only for an instant; her expression never changed, her gaze never strayed.

“We’re having a fine time drinking—why suddenly change seats?” asked a tall, bearded middle-aged man.

Xiao Yu smiled: “Liu Gugu’s arrangements always have deep meaning. You’ll understand once you go.”

Let Liu Gugu find the excuse—after all, it was her negligence; she deserved the trouble.

“Little Fengxian, are you talking to Elder Zhang—”

As soon as Liu Gugu was mentioned, she stepped out from another private room.

She clearly knew the men at the table well and called out from afar.

“Liu Gugu, why are you coming yourself?” Xiao Yu quickened her steps, grabbed her arm, and said: “It’s just about moving the guests to a quieter private seat—I’ve already started explaining. Don’t you trust me?”

Liu Gugu shot her a few icy glances from the corner of her eye, then smiled warmly as she greeted the guests. Within a few words, servants arrived to help carry dishes and pour wine.

The girls were quick-witted too, clinging to the guests’ arms, cracking jokes and coaxing them downstairs.

And before they left, Xiao Yu had already returned to the small private room with a pot of hot tea.

Liu Gugu was sharper than anyone else; she didn’t need a detailed explanation to understand Xiao Yu’s intent.

In fact, Liu Gugu was not a careless person.

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte was certainly no ordinary figure, but Liu Gugu knew Qingsong was special because she knew Sui Yuanzi and understood his status in the Qinghe Commandery Prince’s mansion—even the Heavenly Gate’s Lei Zhen had no chance to curry favor with him.

Now that the opportunity had come, wouldn’t she want to show her worth? Would she let Sui Yuanzi stand outside the private room like a fool?

Xiao Yu stayed inside the private room attending Qingsong the Daoist acolyte, while Liu Gugu carefully served Sui Yuanzi in another private room.

But due to momentary carelessness, the girls had led the guests to tables outside the private room.

As the saying goes: long exposure to a salted fish shop makes one oblivious to its stench.

Liu Gugu had spent years in Hongxiu Fang and simply hadn’t noticed the noise.

“Old Ancestor, why are you looking at me like that?”

Xiao Yu refilled Qingsong’s tea and placed several small pastries before him, but noticed his expression was strange, his gaze fixed oddly on her face.

“Your composure in Hongxiu Fang surprises me,” said Qingsong the Daoist acolyte.

Xiao Yu knew he was aware of everything that had just happened outside, yet she still didn’t fully understand his remark.

“What exactly do you mean, Old Ancestor?”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte said: “With your past-life wisdom and talent, you were once an extremely proud person, yet now you casually call others ‘Dad’—not a trace of reluctance or resentment, completely at ease in this environment.”

Xiao Yu smiled: “It’s just the rules—what’s there to be proud or not proud about?

You yourself must be very proud, yet when facing the Emperor, when facing Great Qin’s rituals, could you still stand rigidly, refusing to kneel or bow?

Don’t even mention I’m already in the Jiaosifang.

Even in wealthy households, according to custom and etiquette, servants must call their masters ‘Elder’ and ‘Lady.’

Following rules is wisdom; it’s not shameful at all.

To conduct oneself with propriety and grace is a true honor.”

She certainly didn’t think that way inside.

Give her a bit of power, and the Emperor was just a fart!

Whoever made her unhappy, she’d make sure they never got another chance to be.

But before outsiders, she had to present herself as a law-abiding, obedient woman.

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte looked troubled: “What you say makes sense, but for someone so young to understand and embody this—it’s hard to imagine.

You were once Guan Jia’s daughter who awakened the Sword Bone Divine Power, and you slew Kong Zan, your name known throughout the land.”

Xiao Yu smiled again: “What am I? The girl living in the same courtyard as me—guess who she is? The daughter of Dou Yilin, Chancellor of Lu State, the Jade-Faced Celestial Wen!”

She’s a Chancellor’s daughter!

And yet she, too, accepted her fate.

What’s there for a desert barbarian like me to hold onto?”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte frowned: “You’ve got guts, daring to share a courtyard with her.”

Xiao Yu rolled her eyes slightly: “Old Ancestor, you’re sharp—why speak nonsense? If I had a choice, would I be stuck in brothels?”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte chuckled: “I came here today precisely to offer you a splendid future!

You slew Kong Zan and crippled Zhou Lang at Feixiandu—you’ve done great service; the Great Qin court intends to reward you!”

Xiao Yu’s eyes lit up, excited: “Old Ancestor, are you taking me out of this misery, to cultivate in the Central Civilization?”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte shook his head, bluntly: “Even when your Sword Bone Divine Power was active, I didn’t care for you.

Now your body isn’t broken, but your divine power is gone.

Forget cultivation—even the Immortal Martial Path, you won’t go far.”

Xiao Yu’s fleeting “hope” instantly collapsed, shattering into two pieces.

Yet she still struggled: “Old Ancestor, you probably don’t know—Min the physician is extremely skilled; he nearly fused all the Sword Bone’s spiritual essence into my bloodline. Lately, my internal Qi cultivation has accelerated dramatically.

I’m not boasting, but among the youth of Tianmen Town, no one is stronger than me.”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte smiled and asked: “Have you recently cultivated many different Sword Intentions?”

Xiao Yu was slightly surprised.

It wasn’t strange that Qingsong the Daoist acolyte could detect her multiple Sword Intentions.

But if he saw them, why did he still believe her future was ruined?

“Yes, I remember your teachings—I’ve collected as many Sword Manuals as possible and cultivated various Sword Intentions, using them to nourish my Sword Bone.”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte sighed: “I did say that, but times have changed.

Back then, your Sword Bone Divine Power was still active; no matter how complex the Sword Intentions, they were suppressed by the Sword Bone.

Now your Sword Bone is ruined. Cultivating too many Sword Intentions only wastes your spirit and severs your future.”

“I don’t understand—aren’t more Sword Intentions always stronger?” Xiao Yu said.

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte replied: “Immortal Martial cultivators emphasize the ‘Three Minor Elements’—Heart, Spirit, and Intention.

‘Heart’ governs ‘Spirit’—it is the foundation of the Three Minor Elements.

First, you’ve wasted too much spirit on the ‘Intention’ of sword techniques, dividing your spirit to form Sword Intentions, yet spirit is finite.

Second, the heart is the trunk, the Sword Intentions are the branches. Too many branches will crush the trunk.

Even ‘Human Immortals’ on the Immortal Martial Path require a union of life and spirit.

What is ‘life’? Life is the heart—it is the sum of ‘Heart, Spirit, and Intention.’

If you’ve crushed your ‘heart,’ how can you achieve life-spirit union? How can you condense the Inner Core?”

“If your Sword Bone Divine Power were still active, the situation would be entirely different.

Sword Intentions nourish the Sword Bone; the Sword Bone strengthens spirit and physique; strong physique means strong internal Qi; strong spirit means a strong trunk—ultimately forming a virtuous cycle: ‘Great tree, deep roots, lush branches.’

With sufficient fortune, you might even attain a divine position.”

—If Sword Intentions can nourish the Sword Bone, why can’t they repair it?

Xiao Yu was dissatisfied but said nothing.

She had no intention of revealing even a whisper about repairing her Sword Bone.

Unless Qingsong, the little Daoist thief, truly offered her a great future and took her to Great Qin.

“Then what is this ‘great future’ you speak of?”

Qingsong the Daoist acolyte reached his right hand into his left sleeve, fumbled inside, and pulled out a scroll embroidered with black thread and golden dragon patterns. “Do you know what this is?”

Xiao Yu stared at the scroll rolled into a rod, her spirit momentarily dazed.

It felt as if she had become a lowly slave, kneeling on the ground, gazing up at the Emperor on his throne.

Her soul felt immense pressure; her chest grew tight.

It made her deeply uncomfortable.

From an instinctive resistance, a twelve-foot ferocious tiger suddenly leapt from the center of her purple palace (expanded by the Bone-Changing Elixir, replacing her spiritual sea), roaring at the scroll: “Roar!!”

Thin strands of black-red malevolent energy erupted around the ferocious tiger, “polluting” nearly half of her purple palace.

The illusion before her instantly changed.

No longer was she a slave facing a lofty emperor.

Instead, she was a savage ferocious tiger facing a massive throne composed of countless corpses and broken weapons.

No one sat upon the throne—only a dark, terrifying shadow—yet the ferocious tiger roared defiantly, its ferocity surging, the surrounding malevolent energy growing denser.

Strands of black-red malevolent energy, like countless razor-sharp blades, clashed against the solemn dark shadow upon the throne.

“Huh?” The Qingsong Daoist acolyte nearly dropped the scroll.

A searing rush of malevolent energy suddenly burned his palm, surging up his arm into his spiritual sea, transforming into an ocean of blood where countless wailing, cursing, accusing, and shouting souls cried out: “Jiujiu Lao Qin!”

Had he not possessed a celestial-grade soul, he would have been swallowed whole.

“What are you doing?” His face turned pale; his free left hand swiftly formed seals. Golden dragon patterns on the dark scroll ignited, and golden runes floated above its surface.

As the scroll’s seals activated, the malevolent energy was immediately suppressed.

The roaring ferocious tiger was crushed by invisible pressure; Xiao Yu’s head felt as if struck by an iron mallet. She groaned, then went dark.

“The transformation of the Investiture of the Gods truly relates to you. What did you just do?” The Qingsong Daoist acolyte stared at her.

“The Investiture of the Gods?”

Xiao Yu’s spiritual soul was wounded, dazed and throbbing with pain—but the grandiose term “Investiture of the Gods” jolted her fully awake.

“I didn’t do anything—well, not intentionally. I just saw your scroll, and somehow activated the ferocious tiger’s spiritual intent.”

That’s the black tiger spirit formed by the Guan family’s Tiger Soul Seven Kill heart scripture.”

You split off a thread of your soul and transformed it into a ferocious tiger drenched in blood-tinged malevolent energy.

The malevolent energy on the tiger’s spirit is precisely why the Seven Kill’s profundity can slay ghosts and gods.

The Qingsong Daoist acolyte frowned. “Your ferocious tiger’s malevolent energy seems to have stirred the Investiture of the Gods, activating its original...”

He paused, swallowing the words concerning the Investiture of the Gods’ secrets, then said: “It can draw forth the Investiture of the Gods’ own martial malevolent energy. The Guan family wasn’t boasting—Tiger Soul Seven Kill likely connects to an ancient evil deity.”

“Is it the evil god Chiyou?” Xiao Yu asked.

The Qingsong Daoist acolyte shook his head. “Chiyou was an ancient ancestor, a human—not a monstrous demonic tiger. Don’t practice Tiger Soul Seven Kill. It stirs even a thread of ancient calamity-tinged malevolent energy. Too inauspicious.”

Just now, the Investiture of the Gods had activated a thread of ancient calamity-tinged malevolent energy, so he deduced this technique must link to some ancient ferocious deity.

But which ferocious deity, he did not know.

He could be certain only of one thing: the entity was not human—it was a ferocious tiger, extremely, extremely cruel.

“Master, teach me a celestial art, and I’ll stop practicing.” Xiao Yu said.

—Though the ferocious tiger’s spiritual intent, connected to the Investiture of the Gods’ malevolent energy, was crushed by a mysterious force, I’ve absorbed the thread of ancient calamity-tinged malevolent energy embedded within the tiger’s spirit. Tiger Soul Seven Kill is nearly complete—how can you ask me to stop?

The Qingsong Daoist acolyte gazed at her deeply, sneering: “If you don’t listen to me, you’ll regret it someday.”

Xiao Yu smiled. “Master, I’m not disobedient—I just have no choice! First, help me choose a City God position!”