Chapter 121: Longguan Road

Bian Ruxue slightly lifted her head.

What she saw now was the boy before the bonfire, his smile warm and gentle.

Yet she felt that though his smile remained unchanged, she and the boy were now separated by a vast, endless distance.

But this feeling vanished in an instant, as if it were an illusion.

She thought of the sword.

Her restless heart suddenly found a point of anchorage.

She thought of the peak of swordcraft, the ultimate legendary sword art.

She whispered, “Hao-gege, your talent surpasses mine; perhaps you will reach there faster than I.”

“That’s not certain.”

Li Hao spread his hands slightly and said, “You saw it yourself—I don’t even have a sword.”

“...”

Bian Ruxue stared in shock, then let out a bitter smile.

A swordsman who doesn’t carry his blade.

That’s not a swordsman at all.

Yet the exquisitely refined sword strike Li Hao had used against Li Tiangang still haunted her memory.

Such ultimate sword technique, such overwhelming sword intent—why then did this man show no regard for the sword at all?

It seemed he had always been this way.

What, exactly, did Hao-gege care about?

At that moment, a figure glided soundlessly down from the treetops, landing beside the bonfire, snapping Bian Ruxue from her thoughts; her confused gaze sharpened instantly as she turned.

She saw an old man in a green robe, his beard and hair pure white, his topknot loosely tied, a worn wooden hairpin slanted through it.

He now lounged casually on a wooden log beside the fire, fanning the scent of roasted tiger meat toward his nose and grunting, “No seasonings at all, yet you still made this delicious? What a waste you’re not a cook!”

“I’d like to be, but I never got the chance.”

Li Hao laughed.

“Is it done?”

“Ready to eat.”

Hearing this, Feng BoPing no longer held back—he grabbed a roasted tiger paw, blew on it, and began eating.

The paw had been slit open in several places, sprinkled with salt and coated with crushed wild herbs Li Hao had gathered along the way, their fragrance now fully infused into the meat by roasting.

Feng BoPing ate with juice dripping everywhere, utterly lacking in decorum.

Li Hao smiled, drew Ren Qianqian’s sword, and used it as a meat cleaver.

He cut off a few pieces, then summoned leaves with a gesture to serve as plates, handing them to Ren Qianqian.

“Thank you, Young Master,” Ren Qianqian smiled faintly, accepting the leaves with both hands.

Li Hao did the same—cutting another tiger paw, placing it on a large mulberry leaf, and beckoning to Bian Ruxue.

Bian Ruxue, having traveled and chased for days without proper rest or meals, now felt ravenous; drawn by the enticing aroma, she walked over.

She took the mulberry leaf, glanced at it, made no complaint, snapped off a twig for chopsticks, and began eating.

“This is truly delicious!”

The moment the tiger meat touched her tongue, Bian Ruxue’s eyes widened slightly in surprise—its flavor was simply exquisite.

In the Sword Cottage, she had never indulged in such luxuries; her Master had said that if one became lost in pleasure, it would corrode the sword heart, leaving no room for the sword—only food, drink, and amusement.

Thus, the food in the Sword Cottage had always been plain.

“If it’s good, eat more.”

Li Hao smiled.

He picked up another tiger paw, cut off half, and tossed it to the white fox.

The rest he blew on, then bit into.

“Who is this elder?”

Mid-bite, Bian Ruxue glanced curiously at Feng BoPing, wondering when Li Hao had met such a profound elder—his depth seemed unfathomable.

“You’re better off not knowing my name,” Feng BoPing chuckled lightly, then ignored her entirely, continuing to eat and drink.

He carried his own wine, drank his fill, then passed the flask to Li Hao.

Li Hao didn’t refuse—he ate meat, drank wine, swallowed, and the spiciness and meaty aroma flooded his belly—he sighed in pure delight.

Watching Li Hao like this, Bian Ruxue was momentarily stunned; drinking was something she associated with rough men. Though most men enjoyed wine, Li Hao was still so young.

“Hao-gege, drink less...” Bian Ruxue couldn’t help saying.

Feng BoPing burst into laughter. “Little rat, your bride hasn’t even crossed the threshold yet, and already she’s ordering you around.”

Li Hao merely smiled faintly, said nothing, and kept eating and drinking.

Bian Ruxue’s cheeks flushed red; seeing Li Hao wouldn’t listen, she stopped urging him and quietly ate her meat.

The dark forest shimmered with sparks.

The long night was silent.

When they had eaten and drunk their fill, all three rested.

Li Hao lay comfortably before the bonfire, sleeping peacefully, his expression serene, a faint smile on his lips.

Bian Ruxue sat beside the fire, occasionally adding a log, occasionally glancing at the boy, her eyes slightly narrowed.

He had just left the Divine General’s Mansion, suffered such grievous wounds, and broken with his father—yet why did he sleep so peacefully?

What did he dream of? Who was in his dream?

The girl could not know. Slowly, she withdrew her gaze, staring blankly at the leaping sparks of the fire.

Birds startled into flight from the forest as dawn’s light gradually arrived.

The bonfire had gone out.

A new day had come.

At the forest’s edge, on the Liangzhou highway, Li Hao bid Bian Ruxue farewell, telling her to return home, not to worry.

Bian Ruxue had said all she could; she no longer insisted, picked up her sword, turned back three times—but saw the boy had not paused—so she turned away without looking back again, walking straight back along the path she had come.

Deep inside, she felt a quiet sense of relief.

Since Li Hao did not need her company, she could now devote herself entirely to pursuing her own sword path.

“Hao-gege, I will climb to the peak of swordcraft, and then tell you what I saw...” The girl whispered to herself, her gaze gradually steadying.

Following the highway forward, the green cypresses grew sparse; some had been clearly crushed and trampled, with no replanting.

The road itself grew increasingly ruined, with cracks and deep, thick depressions—as if a giant serpent had slithered across it, crushing the path beneath its weight.

“Ahead lies Longguan Road.”

Feng BoPing’s gaze also grew slightly grave.

Longguan Road extended from the border highway like a spear, piercing thousands of li inward—its end was Tianmen Pass, where the Li family’s garrison held the city of Cangya.

Longguan Road was the only route to Tianmen Pass; it was long—riding a horse took a full day—and was carved by the ancestors of the Li family under the command of Emperor Da Yu thousands of years ago, as they conquered this land step by step.

With this road, Da Yu’s armies could march straight into Beilin Kingdom beyond Tianmen Pass.

Beilin Kingdom was one of the six neighboring states subdued by Da Yu, becoming a vassal state—but now, as the Da Yu Dynasty declined from its height, these former vassals seemed increasingly restless.

Li Hao gazed ahead, faintly seeing a broad white path stretching straight ahead.

“They arrived quickly.”

Li Hao sighed, then continued forward.

Soon, ahead on the highway, a grandfather and grandson carried baskets of medicinal herbs on their backs.

Though Li Hao, the white fox, and Ren Qianqian walked casually, their pace still outstripped the pair’s, gradually drawing near, then overtaking them.

The grandfather and grandson had noticed Li Hao and Ren Qianqian from afar, their eyes filled with wariness, even tension; though the highway was wide, empty, and open, they instinctively sidestepped aside.

When they saw Li Hao paid them no mind, they finally exhaled in relief.

They trailed slowly behind at a distance, yet dared not show any unusual behavior.

But to Li Hao, this behavior was already strange—people here seemed deeply wary and fearful of strangers.

“Young man, are you still going forward?”

Just as they neared Longguan Road, a frail voice called from behind.

Li Hao stopped, turned, and looked at the pair in mild surprise—they had spoken to him voluntarily? He smiled. “Can’t I go forward?”

The old man, whose basket was full of herbs, studied Li Hao and Ren Qianqian, thinking these two were surely not demons—just some noble youth on a training journey.

He sighed inwardly and said to Li Hao, “Young man, ahead lies Longguan Road.”

“Hmm?”

Li Hao looked at him with mild confusion.

Seeing Li Hao still didn’t understand, the old man sighed again:

“Once you enter Longguan Road, you cannot go further—it’s all demons!”

“Demons?”

Li Hao was startled; he exchanged a glance with Ren Qianqian and asked, “Isn’t Longguan Road still within Da Yu’s borders? The demons live beyond Tianmen Pass.”

“Tianmen Pass?”

The old man blinked, then shook his head. “There is no Tianmen Pass anymore—only mountains of corpses, seas of blood, and the thick stench of decay.”

Speaking thus, he glanced at the sky, realizing it was late, and said at once:

“Young man, you wish to slay demons and eradicate evil, to uphold justice—this noble heart is good, but this is no place for play. Leave while you still can. When night falls, this official road won’t be safe…”

Saying this, he took his grandson’s hand and walked forward, carrying the medicinal herbs on his back.

Only the young grandson, carrying the small basket, occasionally turned back to look.

When the grandfather and grandson had walked a thousand paces away, the young boy suddenly said: “Grandpa, they’ve gone in.”

“What?”

The old man gasped, turned around, and looked back—but on the official road, there was no trace of the boy and girl he had just seen.

He let out a long sigh and said: “Good words cannot save those determined to die.”

…

On the Longguan Road, Li Hao and Ren Qianqian continued walking leisurely.

But after walking only a short distance, Li Hao’s expression subtly shifted. He stopped and turned toward the direction the old man and boy had taken.

“Master?”

Ren Qianqian frowned in confusion.

Li Hao said nothing, merely glanced around and spotted a wooden stick.

He bent down, picked it up, and with a casual flick, sent a sword qi flying—the qi moved like a gentle breeze, silent and unseen, yet racing swiftly forward.

Like a breeze stirring, it passed over the old man and boy still trudging slowly along the road, lifting the hair at their temples as if a warm wind had blown from behind.

And the breeze stretched onward, extending more than twenty li ahead.

There, a demon resembling a crocodile crouched beside the road, waiting to strike.

Suddenly, a gentle wind swept down the official road.

The demon sensed something—its pupils shrank, it began to shift, then its body froze in violent tremors.

From forehead to torso, it split cleanly apart—blood and organs scattered across the ground…

…

Li Hao smiled faintly and tossed the stick carelessly to the roadside.

Then he clapped his hands and continued forward.

Ren Qianqian did not understand, and though puzzled, she did not press further. On this journey, Li Hao often made strange gestures—she had long grown used to it.

As they ventured deeper into the Longguan Road, Li Hao saw decayed demon bones everywhere—long reduced to white skeletons, untouched and unburied.

Along the way, he encountered demons resting on the road, sleeping soundly, treating this once-feared path as their own warm nest.

Li Hao showed no mercy to these demons. He did not need Feng Lao’s help—he dispatched them effortlessly himself.

As they walked, Li Hao’s expression grew heavier. He finally understood why the old man had spoken those words.

The Longguan Road, opened thousands of years ago, had now fallen into ruin.

Logically, Li family members should have guarded this place all these years—why had it come to this?

Walking, pausing, finally Li Hao, with Ren Qianqian and the little white fox, reached the end of the Longguan Road.

(End of Chapter)