Chapter 32: Chapter Thirty-Two: Sworn in Blood, Life and Death Together (4000 Characters)

San Yang Mountain.

An ancient famous mountain.

The Sage once taught here.

He enlightened three disciples, naming them Qingyang, Hongyang, and Ziyang.

This nameless mountain thus gained its name, and since then, scholars and poets flocked here, its reputation growing day by day.

Until three hundred years ago, a martial artist who called himself San Yang Patriarch emerged, razed temples, expelled other sects and monasteries, seized sole control of San Yang Mountain, endured a century of turmoil, and finally established the San Yang Sect, which endures to this day.

San Yang Mountain boasts beautiful scenery: three peaks rise sharply, as if not formed by nature but moved by human hands and planted upon the plain.

Dou Changsheng climbed the stone steps one by one, finally reaching the summit of Qingyang Peak.

Far off, he could see a spring at the center of a white marble railing.

The spring now flowed slowly, and even from afar, one could feel a refreshing qi; his innate internal qi flowed noticeably faster.

Cultivating around this Qingyang Spring over years would make progress twenty to thirty percent faster than elsewhere.

With equal talent, ten years of cultivation here equaled twelve years elsewhere.

This was without even drinking the spring water—if one did, the speed would increase further.

This Qingyang Spring alone could serve as the foundation of the San Yang Sect, ensuring endless wealth.

And now, no martial artist was seen cultivating, proving the San Yang Sect had secretly diverted the spring’s power using a secret technique, cultivating in a hidden chamber where progress would be even faster.

This was truly a precious thing.

This was precisely why there was such a gap between sect and aristocratic disciples and lone cultivators.

A Daoist clad in purple robes smiled warmly as he stepped forward to greet him: “This humble Daoist is Ziyang; after your arrival at San Yang Mountain, I shall oversee your food, lodging, and daily needs.”

“If you have any requests, please speak plainly.”

Ziyang Daoist was exceedingly warm, but Dou Changsheng’s heart had already risen.

This Ziyang Daoist had long ago pledged allegiance to Grand Chancellor Chen Qingyao of Great Jin, and three years later, he personally attacked the future Dou.

At that time, the future Dou had to reveal a hidden card to slay him with a single sword; to Dou Changsheng now, he was a formidable enemy.

The Three Flowers Converge at the Crown, the Five Qi Align to the Origin—this is the Primordial Profound Realm, the final realm of the Primordial Three Stages.

This Ziyang Daoist had reached the peak of Primordial cultivation, just one step away from breaking through to become a Divine Master.

But that step was like a heavenly chasm.

Those who succeeded soared to the heavens; those who failed remained mired in the mud.

Dou Changsheng spoke calmly: “Just a guest room, and plain meals will suffice.”

Ziyang Daoist smiled: “Though San Yang Sect is no great sect, we do have one Divine Master—we can still be called a major sect. How could we possibly slight a distinguished guest?”

“A top suite has already been prepared; all accommodations are the finest.”

“The wine and dishes are ready; all the heroes have arrived, waiting only for you, Young Master Dou, to take your seat.”

Ziyang Daoist personally led him to a grand hall.

At the hall’s center stood a main table, with two smaller tables slightly behind it.

On either side of the central table were rows of tables, each adorned with exquisite porcelain plates holding fruit, dishes, and delicate wine flasks; many had already taken their seats.

Only a few seats remained empty: the central one, reserved for the San Yang Sect’s Sect Master, Qingyang Daoist, was still vacant.

The only other unoccupied seat was Ziyang Daoist’s own, and besides that, only the table on the left side remained empty.

Ziyang Daoist sat in the vacant seat behind the central table—this was the right-side position. On the left, a Daoist draped in red robes sat with lowered eyelids, feigning sleep.

Ziyang Daoist gestured for Dou Changsheng to sit; Dou glanced and saw this was the most prestigious seat among all guests, just below the three hosts.

In this world, the left is honored; Ziyang Daoist, ranked below Hongyang Daoist, naturally sat to the right of Qingyang Daoist.

My seat, however, was the most honored among all guests, clearly signaling my status—only beneath the three hosts.

Dou Changsheng could clearly see countless eyes turning toward him.

Their gazes carried different emotions: some merely observed, others brimmed with malice, others with resentment.

Among those with malice, Dou could identify the source: it came from the table across from him, where a long saber rested upon the table.

To hold such status and specialize in the saber…

It must be the Mad Saber Lin Daoqi.

Lin Daoqi was twenty-seven, broad-shouldered and burly, with a thick beard, looking more like a man in his thirties or forties than a youth.

His eyes were enormous, like ox eyes; even half-closed, they were larger than average.

He hailed from the Lin Clan of the capital, a powerful aristocratic family with generations of strong cultivators.

Renowned for the “Thirteen Wind and Cloud Sabers,” the current Lin Clan patriarch, known as the Tyrant Saber, was also a figure on the Earthly List.

The Heaven, Earth, and Human Lists—this was knowledge Dou Changsheng had urgently studied; the latest issues of the Martial World Gazette were his daily reading.

The Lin Clan’s fame in swords was known across all four nations; thus, every generation trained in the saber. Clan members took pride in carrying sabers; learning the sword was considered unproductive, leading to exclusion from the core.

As Dou Changsheng took his seat, Qingyang Daoist arrived late, precisely on time.

Qingyang Daoist stroked his goatee and spoke gently: “All of you are young talents of Great Jin. In the future, you shall contend with heroes from other nations, glorifying our realm—your names shall surely find a place on the Human List.”

“This gathering is rare; we may not meet again for years, perhaps decades.”

“Thus, before the duels, we have prepared this Hero Banquet.”

Before Qingyang Daoist finished speaking, Lin Daoqi slammed his broad palm onto the saber on his table.

Crack.

The scabbard struck the table with a sharp, clear sound.

The noise was unmistakable, drawing everyone’s attention.

Lin Daoqi grinned: “My hand slipped by accident. Please forgive this old man.”

Qingyang Daoist’s gaze deepened, fixed unblinkingly on Lin Daoqi for over a dozen breaths; Lin Daoqi did not retreat, his eyes fully open, glaring fiercely back.

Finally, Ziyang Daoist slowly reached out and tugged Qingyang Daoist’s sleeve, then said to Lin Daoqi: “Be careful.”

Lin Daoqi replied: “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”

The incident passed as if nothing had occurred.

Dou Changsheng’s gaze sharpened: the San Yang Sect was so weak? Qingyang Daoist, a Divine Master, was yielding to a mere Primordial Five Qi cultivator?

Yes, this Mad Saber Lin Daoqi.

Dou Changsheng had already assessed his strength upon seeing him.

Five Qi fully perfected, Three Flowers partially formed—combined with mastery of a supreme technique, his strength was sufficient to challenge the Human List.

In Dou Changsheng’s estimation, he was no bottom-ranked contender—he could already enter the top hundred. He had possessed the ability to challenge the list two or three years ago, though his ranking would have been low and barely secure, so Lin Daoqi had never officially entered.

Like Zi Wu of the Five Beauties Valley, he waited until he was certain.

Qingyang Daoist lost interest in speaking. He lifted his wine cup: “Gentlemen, drink!”

He brought the cup to his lips, took a small sip, then set it down and rose, claiming he could not hold his liquor, and departed.

Lin Daoqi’s arrogance had clearly enraged him.

Qingyang Daoist’s angry departure left the hall briefly silent, then erupted into noise.

Everyone treated Qingyang Daoist as if he were no Divine Master, but merely an ordinary Primordial cultivator.

This scene puzzled Dou Changsheng, but he said nothing; he could ask Tang Qingyan later.

Someone beside him spoke: “Don’t mind it.”

“Kindness invites bullying. This Sect Master of San Yang cares too much for his sect, so others take advantage.”

“But it’s only a loss of face—no one dares cross his line. After all, he is a Divine Master. Even a rabbit, when cornered, can bite. Who wouldn’t fear a furious Divine Master?”

Dou Changsheng looked at the man in snow-white robes, long hair flowing, strikingly beautiful like a demon, and recognized him as Chen Weiquan, one of the Capital’s Ten Outstanding Youngsters.

Yet this speech contained contradictions.

Dou Changsheng could not fully agree—he sensed something off.

As Dou Changsheng pondered, Chen Weiquan spoke directly: “You sense something suspicious, don’t you?”

Chen Weiquan raised his cup, drank alone, then continued: “I feel the same. So do they all.”

“This isn’t meant to humiliate Qingyang Sect Master—it’s a test.”

“The border army’s pay was stolen near San Yang Mountain—shocking the entire realm.”

“That silver wasn’t a small amount.”

“Transporting such vast sums was difficult enough, but there were also large quantities of military equipment.”

“This involved the full gear of three thousand Xuanjia Cavalry: full armor, horse armor, battle standards, and more.”

“Three thousand Xuanjia Cavalry, charging into battle, could crush tens of thousands of elite infantry in formation.”

To pacify the north, the court spared no expense, gathering sacred metals from across the land; artisans labored day and night to expand the Xuanjia Cavalry to three thousand, bringing the total under the shogunate’s command to ten thousand.

“The court has always strictly controlled the Xuanjia Cavalry.”

“With Great Jin’s strength, only fifteen thousand were ever maintained—now most are stationed in the north.”

“Among the four nations’ armies, the Xuanjia Cavalry ranks seventh.”

“From the new emperor down to every official, who isn’t afraid?”

“If three thousand Xuanjia Cavalry suddenly appeared outside the capital and charged into the city, a bloody coup wouldn’t be impossible.”

“Qingyang Daoist’s submissive demeanor? It’s a disguise—showing he’s harmless, distancing himself from the stolen pay.”

Chen Weiquan bluntly exposed what everyone at San Yang Mountain knew but dared not speak aloud.

Losing silver was nothing—it would be found eventually, just a matter of time. The real crisis was this military equipment. Not only did it terrify every noble in the capital, but if it fell into the hands of Western Qin, Eastern Qi, or Southern Chen, it would be a catastrophe.

The Xuanjia Cavalry was the elite force of Northern Jin; its power was useless in the south’s dense waterways, but it had repeatedly won victories against Western Qin and Eastern Qi.

More than a decade ago, General Yu led an expedition beyond the frontier, using the Xuanjia Cavalry to strike directly at the Hu Ren royal court, achieving unparalleled glory and earning the title of the greatest general among the four nations.

Armor and horse armor had been lost more than once—they couldn’t stop martial elites from seizing them—but battle standards and battle formation plates had always been fiercely guarded, never lost before.

Chen Weiquan’s gaze grew sharp as he fixed Dou Changsheng and said, “Dou Changsheng, at such a critical moment, you dare come to Sanyang Mountain? You’re audacious beyond measure.”

“No.”

“You should be called peerless in righteousness.”

“You, a man from Xiangzhou, risked your life to come to Sanyang Mountain for the sake of northerners.”

“To stand up for strangers you don’t even know—I admire you.”

Chen Weiquan lifted his wine cup, waved it toward Dou Changsheng, then drained it in one gulp, refilled it, and praised, “Lin Daoqi is displeased with you because your families have always been at odds.”

“So he holds ill will toward you—but he still recognizes your character.”

“Otherwise, given his temper, he would’ve already slammed the table, drawn his blade, and demanded to settle matters with you.”

“I earned the title of Ten Outstanding Ones from the capital, but only because my father held high office and others flattered me.”

“I’ve never done anything meaningful—compared to you, I’m a firefly beside the sun.”

He drained another sip of wine, then continued, “I came here for Qingyang Spring. My Seven Injury Fist is only one step away from reaching perfection.”

“Had it not been tied to my own Dao path, I’d have been willing to wait another year.”

“But I’m already old; to achieve something on the People’s List, I can’t afford to waste more time.”

“Of course, I’m also unwilling to accept mediocrity—I want to take part in this great matter, uncover the truth behind the stolen military funds, yet fear the danger and dread being drawn into this whirlwind.”

“Today, seeing you here, I’ve made my decision.”

“Life spans no more than a hundred years—how can one hesitate, timid and indecisive?”

“A true man must accomplish great deeds—dying in glory is better than wasting away on a sickbed.”

“I’m willing to lend you my strength—to investigate the military funds case together.”

“I have connections in the capital, many informants; even if all else fails, I can summon imperial power—this will double our effectiveness.”

A sharp crack.

Lin Daoqi struck the table again; Dou Changsheng watched the trembling surface.

Looking at Lin Daoqi, who was clapping and cheering, his thick beard bristling as he stood before Dou Changsheng, he shouted, “How could such a great matter be without me, Lin Daoqi?”

“I’m willing to join you, Dou Changsheng, in investigating the military funds case.”

“This case has thrown the north into chaos—the Grand General is imprisoned; the entire Great Jin trembles.”

“If we don’t resolve it soon, the Hu Ren and Chen people won’t stand idle—they’ll surely launch armies against Great Jin.”

“For the nation. For justice.”

“Let us join hands.”

“Let us emulate the ancients—gather on Qingyang Peak, swear blood oaths in alliance.”

“We share life and death; until this case is solved, we will not cease.”

PS: Second round—this isn’t easy. One more chapter coming soon.