Chapter 483: Golden Body

Before Li Miao officially stepped into the *Jianghu*, army formations were the imperial court's reliance for suppressing the *Jianghu*, and the fundamental reason why *Tianren* dared not appear in the world.

But this had to be built upon a premise—either the army formation was on suitable terrain, completely sealing off the *Tianren's* escape route, or there had to be experts capable of dragging the *Tianren* down, forcibly restricting his room to maneuver.

Unfortunately, Nigo Haruhisa had neither enough men nor generals capable of tangling with Li Miao.

Thus, the outcome of this war was destined from the start.

By the time the full moon hung low in the west, the dust had settled.

"Forty-nine, nineteen years..."

Nigo Haruhisa tried to pry away the hand gripping his throat while struggling to squeeze words out of his throat.

"Still want to recite?"

Li Miao tilted his head and looked at him.

"Your subordinates are all dead, and you are about to die too. Not begging for mercy, not cursing me, just intent on finishing your poem?"

"I actually want to hear what you're going to recite."

He released his hand and threw Nigo Haruhisa to the ground.

"Recite, great man of letters."

Nigo Haruhisa collapsed into a pool of blood, his sleeves and trousers soaked through in seconds. He choked and coughed several times, then propped up his upper body.

Blood and corpses filled his vision.

In the distance, there were still some wails and the sound of fleeing footsteps, growing ever more distant.

It was gone; everything was over. The Nigo family's centuries-old foundation, which had flourished because of the Izumo Grand Shrine, had finally perished today because of the Izumo Grand Shrine.

Nigo Haruhisa only wanted to finish his death poem.

At the very least, to preserve a shred of dignity for the Nigo family.

He spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Forty-nine years, a dream of sleep."

"A lifetime of glory..."

He got stuck.

Only then did he suddenly remember—he hadn't finished writing this poem; Li Miao had interrupted him before he could finish it in his mind.

He raised his head abruptly and looked at Li Miao.

"Could you give me—"

*Slash!

The head fell to the ground.

Li Miao curled his lip.

"Pretending for so long, yet you hadn't even finished writing it. Last words are something that should be prepared in advance; I've never heard of someone asking their enemy for time to finish a poem before they die."

"Like Zhu Bajie wearing glasses, *tch*."

Li Miao turned and stepped onto the stone stairs, walking toward his destination for the night.

The Izumo Grand Shrine.

The oldest and most historically significant shrine in Japan, rumored to have existed for a thousand years, and currently the most prestigious Shinto shrine besides the Ise Grand Shrine, far surpassing the Hachiman-gu, the birthplace of the Honored God Sword Art.

On the massive *torii* gate, bells chimed with the wind.

Li Miao passed through the *torii* and walked to the front of the Izumo Grand Shrine's main hall.

The main hall doors were wide open. On both sides of the path sat dozens of shrine maidens in red and white *hakama*, holding short swords known as *wakizashi* against their own throats.

On each young, beautiful face, their eyes were as calm as water, and their lips were sewn shut with black cotton thread. The thread had already grown into their lips, stained with red and yellow pus and blood.

"Tch."

Li Miao stopped and gave a disdainful scoff.

"What are you doing? Do you take me for some playboy who cherishes flowers and pities the jade, using a woman's life to stop me?"

"Naturally, that is not the case."

The answer came from within the main hall.

A figure in red and white *hakama*, identical to the kneeling shrine maidens, walked out from the darkness of the hall and stood before it.

It was a woman.

An old woman.

One could vaguely discern her beauty from her youth in her brows and eyes, but she was so aged that her skin hung loose, appearing eerily inexplicable under the dim moonlight.

And on her lips, there were also dense furrows left by cotton thread. Although the thread had been removed, the scars formed over decades were impossible to mend.

She looked respectful and elegantly bowed to Li Miao, but it was not a Japanese etiquette; it was a quintessential Central Plains lady's bow.

Seeing such a standard bow in Japan, Li Miao couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"A Central Plains person?"

"You could say that."

The old woman's accent was strange, overall like a Guanzhong accent, yet with many differences. But it was clearly Central Plains speech.

"How so?"

Seeing she had the intention to explain something, Li Miao was in no rush; he crossed his arms and asked.

"Our..." The old woman opened her hands, gesturing to the kneeling shrine maidens: "... ncestors were Central Plains people."

"To be more specific, they were people of the Qin Dynasty."

"On this point, I believe you should be clear. Didn't you kill our ancestor's junior brother? I think you must have obtained some information from him."

"Otherwise, you wouldn't have traveled thousands of miles to Japan."

Li Miao frowned.

He keenly sensed something... it didn't match.

What the old woman "thought he knew" and what he "actually knew" did not match.

The old woman had already explained the origin of the shrine maidens—people of the Qin Dynasty; An Qisheng's senior brother was Xu Fu. They were the descendants of the three thousand boys and girls Xu Fu had swindled from the First Emperor back then.

But the old woman did not know that An Qisheng had lost the vast majority of his memories regarding Xu Fu during his thousand-year cycle of reincarnation. Li Miao's arrival in Japan was not entirely for Xu Fu; at the very least, before this, he did not know Xu Fu's relationship with Shintoism.

So the old woman putting on such a frank and open posture... was because she felt Li Miao had already learned something from An Qisheng.

As his thoughts raced, Li Miao said calmly.

"I do know some things, but only up to the point before Xu Fu left the Central Plains."

He said with a smile.

"Speaking of which, An Qisheng and I are somewhat related, so you are half my juniors. Why not save your ancestor the effort of interrogating you and just step aside, how about that?"