Chapter 300: The Launch of Zhuxian

"Bi Xuan was slain by a single sword?"

"At the time, Xu Kaishan and Zhao Deyan were also present—both top-tier masters of the world—but in that instant, Shi Zhixuan said he couldn't even see what happened; Gu Qing had already drawn his sword and left. The Wu Zun Bi Xuan, Zhao Deyan, and others were all killed by Gu Qing in one stroke, just like ordinary soldiers."

"In the Southern Song Clan, there is a book called The Legend of the Borderlands, which records how the Borderland man Yan Fei slashed Murong Chui with one sword—so it is said that no one saw what happened in that instant either."

"The Holy Maiden of the Cihang Pure Chamber, Shi Feixuan, asked His Majesty, who replied that though it was one sword, it counted as two, and he was quite displeased."

……

"Hou Xibai, why are you in Chang'an?"

"Brother Kou, Ziling, I won't hide it—I'm from the Huajian Sect of the Demon Cult's Two Factions and Six Paths. His Majesty has launched a Demon Hunting campaign to eradicate the Demon Cult, which has plagued the Central Lands since the Han Dynasty. I had no choice but to come to Chang'an to surrender and seek refuge."

"You just paint beauties—you haven't offended anyone. This Demon Hunting campaign shouldn't target you."

"True, but this campaign is led by my master—he killed the Shadow Assassin Yang Xuyan… I'm just afraid of what might happen. Still, after this campaign, the Tianmo Ce scattered across the world should finally be reunited."

……

"I heard you made a maintenance agreement with Shang Xiufang? Five years, and then she leaves?"

"Shang Xiufang wanted to experience a love with an expiration date—to taste the bitterness of love, to feel the pain of being hurt. I told her then: in this romance, I'll punch you, kick you, make you kneel and beg for forgiveness, rip out your kidneys, tear out your heart, gouge out your corneas, lock you in a cage… She refused."

"Any normal woman would refuse."

"Bai Qinger, who seeks to cultivate the Dao Heart Demon Seed Great Art, agreed—she believes this is necessary for the 'Binding Demon' stage of the Dao Heart Demon Seed Great Art."

"You did all that to Bai Qinger?"

"No, I helped Bai Qinger cultivate the Supreme Wisdom Scripture."

"Bai Qinger? Yin Gui Sect, Cihang Pure Chamber, Dongming Sect, Li Clan, Du Gu Clan, Song Clan—how many is that now… hmm…"

"You, Qingxuan, truly delight me."

……

"What about Jingyan Palace? How come I can't spawn my huge Jingyan Palace?"

……

Since its founding over a thousand years ago, the Qingyun Sect's founder was Qingyunzi, a geomancer who discovered an ancient scroll in a hidden cave on Qingyun Mountain, expounded its wondrous arts, and established the Qingyun Sect. After a hundred or so years, a brilliant genius named Qingye appeared and brought the sect to great glory, making it a pillar of the orthodox world and leader of all sects.

Gu Qing stood at the foot of Qingyun Mountain, gazing upward—white clouds sealed the peak, hiding it from view.

…How did I end up in a cultivation world?

Though Zhuxian is called a cultivation world, lifespan is still limited—Qingye Master lived only seven hundred and fifty years. As for how long Zhang Xiaofan, who mastered all five volumes of the Heavenly Books, might live—that remains unknown.

After gazing, Gu Qing strolled leisurely toward Caomiao Village.

Zhuxian tells the story of how Dao, Buddha, and Demon sects all originated from the Heavenly Books, and how Zhang Xiaofan alone mastered all five volumes.

If Zhang Xiaofan's journey is divided into three parts, they are: "A Beginning of Blood-Debt Vengeance," "Inevitable Descent into Darkness," and "The Hero's Return as a Youth." Now, as Gu Qing enters Caomiao Village, he steps into the first part: "A Beginning of Blood-Debt Vengeance."

Caomiao Village has forty to fifty households; its people farm the land and also sell firewood to Qingyun disciples, so they're all somewhat tied to the Qingyun Sect. After entering the village, Gu Qing walked toward the dilapidated temple at the eastern end.

In the village, a boy was chasing another; in the tall grass, two boys were arguing.

"Zhang Xiaofan, I caught you."

"Lin Jingyu, you ambushed me—that plaque was placed there on purpose to trip me."

"That's nonsense. We agreed whoever gets caught admits defeat—do you admit it or not?"

When Gu Qing arrived, Lin Jingyu was choking Zhang Xiaofan's neck. One was hot-tempered, the other stubborn—neither would yield. Zhang Xiaofan's veins bulged, his face turning blue-purple, yet Lin Jingyu still wouldn't let go. Seeing this, Gu Qing stepped directly past them and entered the temple.

"Amitabha."

A Buddhist chant came from within the temple. A withered hand tapped Lin Jingyu's wrist—both boys instantly released their grips. As Zhang Xiaofan gasped for breath, Lin Jingyu shuddered with relief and apologized repeatedly to Zhang Xiaofan.

"Who are you?"

Zhang Xiaofan looked at the elderly monk beside him.

The foot of Qingyun Mountain was a Daoist region—monks were rare. Zhang Xiaofan found the monk strange and asked curiously.

The monk said nothing.

Lin Jingyu sensed the monk was odd and pulled Zhang Xiaofan away.

The elderly monk's face was kind. He turned his prayer beads, turned back, and saw Gu Qing placing a bamboo tube in the temple's corner, threading silk through it, then extending it outward—no one knew what he was doing.

After a long while, the old monk watched Gu Qing return, checked the bamboo tube again, and seemed reassured.

"Young layman, what are you doing?"

The old monk in the temple was Puzhi, one of the Four Great Monks of the world—his Buddhist cultivation was profound. As he turned his prayer beads, he asked curiously.

Gu Qing finally turned to face the old monk and smiled: "Someone asked a monk, 'Do monks cultivate the Dao?' The monk replied, 'Yes.' Then asked, 'How?' The monk answered, 'When hungry, eat; when tired, sleep.' The questioner was astonished: 'Then isn't that the same as everyone else? Don't they also cultivate?' The monk replied, 'No—when they eat, they don't just eat; they think a hundred thoughts, calculate a thousand schemes. That's why it's different.'"

Gu Qing finished telling the story calmly.

Puzhi turned his prayer beads, deeply moved. He had wandered far and wide seeking the secret of immortality, his mind long devoid of peace.

"Young layman, your Buddhist wisdom is profound. Old monk has learned much."

Puzhi nodded and sat aside.

Gu Qing told this story to tell Puzhi: don't meddle.

"I'll leave this here."

Gu Qing pointed at the bamboo tube and silk: "It won't bother you. Don't touch it."

Though Puzhi didn't understand why, he nodded. Watching Gu Qing adjust the bamboo tube, measure its position left and right, then prepare to leave, he asked: "May I ask, sir, where are you from?"

Gu Qing turned back.

Though Zhuxian's world seems fictional, look closer—Hongchuan, Heyang, Tiger Crouching the Central Plains—aren't those just the Yellow River and Luoyang, renamed? So Gu Qing looked at Puzhi and said plainly: "I'm local."

(End of Chapter)