Chapter 708: Heaven

The boy in green on the small boat watched as blood spread across the lake in patches.

Nearly twenty top-tier experts, plus a ninth-rank cultivator who had condensed a Xuandan, all died here today, reduced to corpses.

Many plump fish in the lake surfaced, tearing and devouring the floating, shredded flesh.

Truly fed to the fish!

The boy stood on the boat; no one rowed, yet it moved of its own accord toward the shore.

The boy held the sleeping Wutong in his arms, gazing up at the vast, drifting blue sky.

When entering the Grand View Garden today, he had already instructed Wutong not to leave the small courtyard.

The two Zhaoming Luans shared the same field of vision within Bianjing, so Wutong’s ordeal today was witnessed in full.

As for the appearance of Dong Fuzi’s adopted son, before he even reached the courtyard, he had already entrusted Hua An the physician, Xie Houer, and even the woman from the West Wing Pavilion, to deliver silver for burial.

This adopted son was the one Dong Fuzi took in while posing as Dong Fuzi—he was originally an ordinary charcoal burner at the West Wing Pavilion.

The man fell in love with a woman from the West Wing Pavilion; they were mutually devoted and believed they could save enough silver to buy her freedom.

But Liu Yuan was cultivating demonic arts in Bianjing, luring and trafficking women from the West Wing Pavilion for sexual cultivation; her unfortunate fate came when a close friend tricked her into falling into Liu Yuan’s clutches.

The man not only lost all his savings to deception, but also lost his beloved to a violent death.

Dong Fuzi feigned death at the Gathering of Beauties; when the body was laid to rest, the man wept over the coffin, his grief and rage festered within him, and he was tainted by the yin-sha energy radiating from the master’s corpse. Now, he is a living corpse wandering Bianjing’s alleys, sustained only by a single obsession: revenge for his lover, hunting Liu Yuan to claim his life.

Yet his strength is far too weak!

You used the Zhaoming Luans to send word to him, and gave him gold three times before, securing his trust today and winning his willingness to enter the trap.

The reason is simple: if Liu Yuan had not been so hasty, if he had carefully unraveled the threads, he would have noticed every anomaly.

But Liu Yuan was simply too eager—he believed killing the boy would let him escape Bianjing.

A hastily assembled killing scheme ended just as hastily.

The boy in green came to his senses, seeing it was already afternoon, the sun low; the lake shimmered with scattered gold.

The brilliant afterglow painted the sky, foretelling another clear day tomorrow.

It seems this happens every day.

The sun rises in the east and sets in the west; the moon and sun alternate, endlessly repeating, constant and unchanging.

The boy’s gaze grew quietly still.

This scheme had been planted months ago—no, perhaps even years ago.

From meeting Hua An the physician and Xie Houer, hearing their idle talk of Dong Fuzi’s adopted son, to today’s final netting…

Like shooting an arrow across a thousand mountains and rivers, only today did it strike the target!

A grass snake, a gray thread, hidden trails stretching a thousand li.

Could the boy, who had spent all his days reading in the small courtyard, truly foresee today’s storm at Tingyu Pavilion years in advance?

Could a boy still under the age of coming-of-age truly navigate the Xie Fu without a single misstep, handling every matter with ease, like a fish in water?

Is there truly such a thing as a flawless person? Who among mortals is not prone to error?

An answer was emerging, clear and urgent!

The boy in green stood at the prow of the boat, gazing at his reflection in the lake.

The boy’s bearing was peerless; his features were as majestic as mountain ridges.

He murmured softly, his voice barely audible even to himself.

“Heaven’s will is like a knife, like a sword—within reason, yet beyond expectation, yet predetermined.”

“Do the immortals above gaze upon the mortal world as a man gazes upon his reflection in water?”

“To evade heaven’s will, to escape karmic chains, to break all shackles…”

The ninth sword within the boy’s heart-sea glowed with radiance.

～

【You activated the “Vulture Feeding on Corpses” technique from the Yin Fu Seven Arts; several phantom vultures carried clusters of primordial spirits into your third eye.】

【The divine fire within your heart-sea surged violently, surpassing the power gained from half a year of cultivation.】

【Even with the aid of the two Zhaoming Luans, you would have needed six months of primordial spirit cultivation to reach the Yangshen realm.】

【Today, absorbing so many experts’ primordial spirits, coupled with the life-or-death struggle you endured, you seem to have glimpsed a fleeting opening into the unreachable Yangshen realm.】

【Your gaze settled on the calm lake surface; your voice was as faint as a breeze skimming the water.】

【“Did I summon you, or did you reveal yourself?”】

【The female Daoist frowned in confusion, staring at the lake—but even with her cultivation, she sensed nothing amiss.】

【Is there someone in the lake?】

【You lifted a finger; a thread of frost-colored sword intent drifted down like a spider’s silk.】

【Instantly, bubbles churned in the lake’s center; the water split open.】

【An old woman, no taller than a stool, emerged; her scalp was bald and covered in pus-filled sores, her features grotesque, yet she wore heavy makeup—bright rouge and powder—that hadn’t smudged even underwater, revealing her vanity.】

【Now, her bulging, bell-like eyes were filled with terror.】

【“Young master, spare this old woman!”】

【The female Daoist instantly recognized her—this old woman was Lady Ruan of the Yan Prince’s mansion. Rumor claimed she was born of a water-fisher and a pearl spirit, most skilled at breeding aquatic beasts.】

【That pig-dragon, it was said, was raised on her essence.】

【The old woman dared not stand; even ninth-rank martial cultivators had died under Xie Guan’s sword. She knelt instantly, trembling, “This old woman has eyes but failed to recognize Mount Tai! Please, young master, spare my life!”】

【“This old woman has never killed even a river shrimp… never done a single evil deed… today I came to Yambō Lake only to stroll among the fish. May the Dao Ancestor witness, may the Buddha see, may the Sage Master observe every detail!” She began counting on her fingers, swearing one by one, “Please, please, I beg you!”】

【The female Daoist, seeing Lady Ruan weeping, swearing, invoking Buddha, and bowing to Confucian incense, couldn’t help but chuckle.】

【This was nothing like the Lady Ruan of legend—clearly rumors are unreliable. Yet… if Xie Guan truly meant to kill her, he wouldn’t have let her surface—he’d have slain her with one sword.】

【Lady Ruan truly has skill: everyone else died, yet she survived unharmed, hidden beneath the lake.】

【You looked at Lady Ruan, thought for a moment, “You may live.”】

【Your fingertip twisted; the drifting sword intent collapsed into a single, gleaming, icy sword pellet. “Serve me from now on.”】

【As he spoke, the sword pellet hovered three inches before the old woman’s nose.】

【“Swallow this pellet. From now on, your life and death are in my hands, at my whim.”】

【The old woman stared at the sword pellet radiating chilling sword intent, too terrified to look.】

【“Young master, can’t I… not swallow it?”】

【You remained silent, staring at her; the lake wind suddenly froze.】

【The old woman shut her eyes, gulped the pellet down in one breath, licked her lips—it had no taste.】

【You nodded in satisfaction. “Go. I will call you when needed.”】

【“The sword pellet has no form or shape. If you try to remove it and die because of it, don’t blame me for not warning you.”】

【“Yes, young master!”】

【Lady Ruan’s hunched body, freed from dread, plunged into the water with a splash, diving like a living fish into the lake’s depths.】

【This lake connects to Zhibei River; Bianjing’s waterways are interconnected. Had your piercing sword intent not locked onto her just now, she could have escaped effortlessly.】

【She touched her belly—the pellet had scattered throughout her body, invisible, untraceable, clearly of profound depth.】

【Recalling his words, fear surged anew; she wondered how to remove it, then remembered he was the successor of the Second Master—her face darkened with dread.】

【Lady Ruan’s feet, webbed like duck’s, moved swiftly; she felt a quiet relief—so many died today, even the Crown Prince of Da Sui and ninth-rank martial experts perished, yet she lived. She thought to herself, “This old lady still has her talents. As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood.”】

【She swam more cheerfully.】

【You watched the old woman depart, then guided the boat to shore.】

【The female Daoist behind you seemed about to call out, but you had already turned and walked away; she could only follow.】

【At this moment!】

【On the shore of Yambō Lake, dark armor surged like a tide—rows of horsemen appeared from the streets.】

【One thousand Huilong Cavalry, their breastplates etched with fish-dragon patterns glinting coldly in the sunset.】

【The female Daoist’s brow furrowed—these were elite troops directly under the Da Qi imperial family. Had the Yan Prince or the Thirteenth Prince Chen Mu ordered this? Was there another ambush, another twist?】

【The female Daoist followed you ashore, expecting the Huilong Cavalry to threaten you.】

【To her astonishment!】

【The commanding captain’s gaze passed over you—and he subtly stepped aside, bowing respectfully to clear the way.】

【Instead, the female Daoist and bystanders were blocked by the iron tide; cold blades gleamed in the twilight, forming a rigid barrier—they were surrounded, as if to be interrogated.】

【The female Daoist was severely wounded, her Daoist robe soaked in blood; she was barely standing, unable to move or chase after you.】

【Xie Guan’s strike was truly brutal—he didn’t kill her, yet left her utterly powerless, unable to intervene in the battle just now.】

【As for how the Huilong Cavalry treated her, she wasn’t worried—Da Sui’s prince had died in Bianjing, and with the current three-kingdom situation, Da Qi dared not eliminate her along with him.】

【Yet why were the officials of the Xuanjing Si, Shen Yin, and Tumo Si nowhere to be seen?】

【As for Xie Guan—the noble of Bianjing, the invisible hand above the capital—it seemed a tacit understanding had been reached.】

【The boy should be unharmed!】

【Today’s events have all settled.】

～

Luo Su looked on as Xie Guan stepped ashore, then watched him quietly depart among the iron-armored troops.

This storm that shook Bianjing ended in chaos—and in the end,

—the boy won!

“What a relief!” came Xue Huai’an’s voice, tinged with the laughter of survival: “Indeed, one of the four great joys of life is this close call.”

Mei Qingsu nodded. “I only watched, yet it was heart-stopping—truly a tale of twists and turns.”

“This is the spirit of youth—faced with a situation where death was certain, he still carved open a path with his sword.”

“For the sake of a maidservant, he walked alone into the trap!”

Xue Huai’an paused briefly, then clapped his hands and recited aloud, “A thousand li across spear and sword, probing the tiger’s den; three cups raised, sword drawn, dancing by the Dragon Spring.”

“The youth was born with bold courage, a sword like autumn water slung at his waist, its blade shaped like a wild goose’s feather.”

Upon hearing this, both girls’ eyes filled with admiration.

Xie Guan’s poetry at the Gathering of Beauties made him famous throughout Bianjing, and he was the disciple of the Second Master—whose entire life had never taken a student, making him the final, closing disciple!”

How could such a cascade of identities, such a string of deeds, fail to stir the heart and soul?

Moreover, he was willing to risk his life alone for a maidservant—he must be a man of deep passion. Such daring could not but stir the spirit.

Xue Huai’an turned his head and saw Liu Zixin gazing fixedly in the direction Xie Guan had vanished, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion.

His heart leapt; he muttered inwardly, “Trouble!”

Mei Qingsu frowned deeply, her gaze still following the retreating back of the youth, her mind filled with unease.

The boy’s facial features clearly bore the mark of noble, heavenly destiny—yet concealed within them was the sign of an early death.

Two utterly opposing destinies were strangely intertwined in a single person!

He had assumed today’s lake-center killing trap was the fulfillment of that early-death omen—yet the youth had shattered the trap and walked free.

What startled him even more was that, from afar, Xie Guan’s noble aura had not faded; instead, it had grown sharper, more piercing—like a coiled dragon emerging from the abyss, unstoppable!

What… could possibly explain this?

Just as he was lost in thought—

“Zheng—!”

A clear, resonant sword cry rang out suddenly, like a phoenix’s cry piercing the nine heavens, its icy blade-energy surging!

Mei Qingsu and Xue Huai’an both paled, spinning around.

There stood Luo Su, holding an eight-sided Han sword, her slender hand lifting lightly as a rainbow of light burst from its edge.

The sword intent was as pure as autumn water, yet carried a terrifying edge that reduced every fallen leaf around her to dust!

Luo Su’s true qi erupted violently, an invisible shockwave sweeping outward—the green stones by the lake shattered on impact, shards flying like rain!

Xue Huai’an exclaimed in surprise, “Sister Su-su, your cultivation has broken through!”

Luo Su had previously been at the seventh realm of martial cultivation, “Snow Mountain.” Now, having found the breakthrough opportunity, she had advanced further—given time and steady practice, she would soon enter the eighth realm.

Mei Qingsu was filled with envy—Luo Su’s age and such cultivation, even among the prodigies of the Nine Great Clans, was exceptional!

Luo Su nodded, but her eyes held not a trace of joy.

The last time she had seen Xie Guan fight in Daguan Garden, her sword heart had nearly shattered.

That single sword stroke had made her realize her entire lifetime of cultivation was nothing but a joke.

Today, seeing Xie Guan fight again, her heart felt entirely different.

Before, she had felt mostly despair—she could not match even one of his sword strokes.

Now, seeing Xie Guan draw his sword, all the great masters around him fell like grass, dead.

The heavy burden in her heart vanished.

If all living beings are like this, what is there to grieve over?

With this thought, her heart opened wide—she had twice witnessed such sword art up close during moments of crisis!

How could her cultivation not advance?

Luo Su turned her head toward the youth, now vanished at the crossroad, and spoke.

“Since the Second Master departed, all sword users across the land have been both mourning and finally breathing easier—while he lived, sword art had only one number one, and all others were second.”

“From today on, another peak has risen.”

“And it is a green mountain!”

The two present said nothing in silence.

(End of Chapter)