Chapter 116: The Hearts of Men Are Usable

At this moment, Qingming had recognized its master, and the land within a hundred li began to transform; Wei Yuan’s spiritual sense expanded outward, gradually extending its reach. Now, every flying insect, bird, and fish within several li could not escape his perception.

Wei Yuan shifted his thoughts, and discovered a hundred warriors stationed around the hut where Yun Feifei hid—five of them had established their Dao foundations, and the leader was none other than the young swordsman whose face he had scarred with a Golden Cauldron that day. Ten li to the west, a squad of Wu Yu warriors stirred, numbering roughly dozens, with two Dao Foundation cultivators among them.

The young swordsman stared at this side in confusion, unable to understand why the hall had suddenly collapsed. But the ancestral Law-Form Elder inside was notoriously powerful; even a Law-Form High-Level cultivator would not suffer harm. So the young swordsman did not approach.

The Wu Yu warriors, however, grew restless; the two Dao Foundation cultivators rose and paced back and forth, agitated and uneasy. They were more sensitive to changes in the natural environment, and now felt the surroundings had turned uncomfortable—his skin grew abnormally dry, itching incessantly, and he scratched constantly until countless bloody streaks marred his flesh.

Wei Yuan frowned slightly, summoning his limited knowledge of military strategy, and considered his sequence of actions.

The Ten Thousand Li Rivers and Mountains were still manifested, their range precisely covering the young swordsman’s group. As Qingming transformed the land, threads of spiritual energy began seeping from the earth, flowing into Wei Yuan’s body. His previously parched Dao power finally began to trickle back, drop by drop.

After consideration, Wei Yuan realized it made no difference which side he struck first.

He acted decisively, sprinting toward the young swordsman to deal with this fool who had come to him. As he ran, two stones within his Dao Foundation transformed into square cauldrons. Wei Yuan moved with blinding speed, yet made not a sound; not even the young swordsman sensed his approach. Now, Wei Yuan was the master of this land—every action granted him countless advantages, while his enemies naturally suffered dulled senses and sluggish Dao power.

Only when a golden cauldron slammed down from above did the Jade-Faced Immortal Sword raise his head in belated realization—and he had barely time to roar before being crushed beneath it. Wei Yuan now held a smaller golden cauldron, striking the large one with full force. A deafening clang rang out, the resonant tone echoing endlessly through the sect.

Even Wei Yuan’s own mind reeled; no wonder the young swordsman inside was stunned. Wei Yuan lifted the cauldron—the young swordsman lay unconscious, fine streams of blood oozing from his nose, mouth, and corners of his eyes.

The guards rushed to rescue their master, but Wei Yuan unleashed a water blade, slicing through three of them at once, forcing them to accept reality and freeze in place.

Wei Yuan summoned Xu Waner, handed her the Immortal Sword False Sun, and ordered: “Watch him. If anyone steps closer, stab him. If anyone steps farther away, stab him. If he dies, it will be because his guards moved without permission.”

Xu Waner stared at the blade, a palm-wide swath blazing with fire, and hesitated: “What if I kill him?”

Wei Yuan didn’t care whether the young swordsman lived or died—he turned and walked away: “If he dies, it’s his bad luck.”

“Where are you going, Senior Brother?” Xu Waner called.

“There’s another squad of Wu clan warriors to the west—I’m going to wipe them out!” Wei Yuan replied.

As Wei Yuan passed several Xu family guards, he casually snatched a spear from one man’s hand. The man stood frozen, expression complex, offering no resistance.

Wei Yuan’s figure vanished in a flash. With Qingming’s enhancement, his speed increased by fifty percent; in an instant, he appeared like a phantom behind the Wu clan squad. The Ten Thousand Li Rivers and Mountains manifested, instantly trapping the entire squad within the Pure Realm of Mortal Land!

Enhanced by Qingming, the Pure Realm’s effect surged dramatically—visible streams of pure energy poured from the void, cascading over the Wu Yu warriors like rain.

All Wu clan warriors screamed in unison; where the pure energy touched their skin, thick green smoke rose—as if scalded by strong acid. Wei Yuan raised a finger, and several water blades shot skyward, exploding above the warriors’ heads, drenching them in a torrent of countless water blades like a downpour.

In the Wu domain, water and wood techniques received bonuses. Qingming was Wei Yuan’s stronghold, and with the Ten Thousand Li Rivers and Mountains manifested, three layers of enhancement doubled the power of his water blades—each shot now unleashed nearly two hundred blades. In moments, every Wu warrior was wounded; only the two Dao Foundation cultivators fared slightly better.

Seeing the water blades worked, Wei Yuan abandoned all other techniques, exhausting his Dao power in a continuous barrage of over ten water blades, each exploding above the Wu warriors’ heads. After a relentless barrage of magical strikes, the Wu clan warriors lay dead or dying—only the two Dao Foundation cultivators and three or four others remained barely alive.

Only then did Wei Yuan reveal himself, walking through the corpses, stabbing each grievously wounded man to death, until only the two Dao Foundation cultivators and one common warrior remained. He then dismissed the Ten Thousand Li Rivers and Mountains.

Wei Yuan used Dao art to carry the three captives back to the dilapidated hut, threw them onto the ground, and gathered all the Xu family guards together: “You all know the Xu family has colluded with the Wu clan, secretly selling countless people to them. To call them traitors is too mild! I won’t waste words—now I have reopened this domain. From now on, this is a six-thousand-li land for the human race to thrive! If you wish to fight the Wu clan with courage, no matter what you’ve done in the past—if you’re willing to stay and fight with me—you are my brothers!”

Many guards showed signs of being swayed, yet hesitated to speak. Then the young swordsman stirred awake, screaming hoarsely: “Who dares betray the Xu family? Don’t you want to live? When Sixth Uncle returns, this brat will die without even a grave!”

Wei Yuan vanished, then reappeared instantly beside him, holding Xu Guanwen’s corpse. He spoke calmly: “Sixth Uncle? You mean that old man whose Law-Form is a bird’s claw? I’ve already cut him down.”

Xu Jingfeng gasped in shock: “Impossible! It can’t be! Sixth Uncle ruled for centuries—how could he lose? Especially to you?”

Wei Yuan sneered: “I am from Tianqing Hall of Taichu Palace, acting on the Immortal Lord’s direct order, traveling alone westward! I achieved Dao Foundation over a month ago. Your Xu family is but a remote minor clan—do you think it hard for me to slay one of your Law-Form elders?” The guards stared, stunned, minds reeling. Even the four senior siblings of Lanchen Palace were utterly shocked, barely believing their ears. Xu Waner’s eyes sparkled with awe, nearly overcome.

“Th-this—impossible!” Xu Jingfeng shrieked, until Wei Yuan tossed Xu Guanwen’s corpse before him. Seeing the familiar face, he could say nothing else, only muttering “impossible” over and over.

Wei Yuan spoke gravely: “I hold the Immortal Lord’s decree. Taichu Palace’s army arrives soon! The Xu family’s traitors who conspired with the barbarians will be punished. But now, the Wu Yu army approaches—our task is to hold for two days until Taichu’s reinforcements arrive. If you’re a true man, if you’re human—stay and fight with me! If we die, we die together with the barbarians—but at least we’ll earn our names in history!”

Immediately, several guards stepped forward, shouting: “Senior Immortal Wei, we follow you!”

Then another guard joined, crying: “We’ve done so many wicked deeds—now, to fight and die with honor is at least a clean death!”

“Wasn’t it the Xu family’s old dogs who forced us? Good riddance to them!”

“Fight the Wu clan to the death!”

In moments, only five or six guards remained, hesitating. Those who had joined Wei Yuan made no reproach.

Wei Yuan knew these few had their reasons: “Leave your weapons and artifacts behind, and go. Whether you return to the Xu family or go elsewhere—it’s your choice. I hope we never meet on the battlefield.”

The men bowed in tearful gratitude, left their weapons and artifacts, and hurried away.

Wei Yuan exhaled inwardly—he’d finally gathered a usable force. History recorded that ancient men once stood upon a stone and cried, “Is the Son of Heaven born of blood?” and hundreds of thousands rushed to kneel before them. According to Xu Wenwu, protagonists and world-chosen ones would shake their bodies, and countless souls, no matter how distant, would sense their imperial aura and flock to them from ten thousand li away.

!.

Yet why, when Wei Yuan blew his own horn to the heavens, did it fall flat? Why did he have to rely on tragic empathy to gather a few cannon fodder? Clearly, he lacked the aura of an emperor—he was no protagonist of this age.

Wei Yuan felt no regret, only unease—mainly because he’d blown his first lie too wildly. If Zhang Sheng found out, he’d surely teach him the meaning of respecting his master. In Tianqing Hall’s tradition: use a voice commensurate with your ability. A disciple speaking louder than his master is an act of grave impiety.

Seeing hearts could be won, Wei Yuan pointed to an open patch of ground and ordered the guards to build their camp, ready their weapons, and await further orders. Then he walked to Yun Feifei, patted her cheek, and said: “Wake up. This is my domain now—no need to fear Wu clan curses.”

Yun Feifei did not move.

Wei Yuan patted again—still no movement.

He slapped her repeatedly, reddening half her face—still she lay motionless. Wei Yuan grew impatient. What was this? Were they playing at being unconscious now?

At that moment, the red-clad woman sighed softly: “Unless you release the Soul-Binding Array, how can I return?”

Wei Yuan remembered—he waved his hand, erasing the Soul-Binding Array from the ground with Dao art. The red-clad woman looked at him with complex eyes: “You’re formidable.”

“Are you Yun Feifei—or her senior sister?”

The red-clad woman’s brows snapped up in anger: “What do you mean ‘her senior sister’? I have a name! Gong Yufeng—remember it, and don’t get it wrong again!”

Her expression shifted suddenly, becoming sweet with a hint of mischief: “For now, we are one. Whichever of us emerges depends on the need.”

Wei Yuan nodded, stepping aside. The red-clad woman approached Yun Feifei’s body and merged into it. Yun Feifei let out a soft sigh, opened her eyes. Her cheeks flushed crimson; she said nothing, pulled up her skirt, straightened her robes, then shot Wei Yuan a glance—half her face flushed with shy embarrassment.

In truth, her natural flush had faded—but the half of her face Wei Yuan had slapped still glowed red, stubbornly lingering.

The third junior sister suddenly turned and fled—then came a clang as she slammed headfirst into a golden cauldron. She staggered back, toppled backward, and fainted. On Wei Yuan’s territory, even a Foundation Establishment cultivator dared to flee?

(End of Chapter)