Chapter 147: The Mo Family

Li Guanyi was invited into the Ghost Market again.

This time, the Ghost Market cultivators around him watched him, weapons in hand, eyes filled with wariness—but since the Lord of Eternal Night spoke, none would strike Li Guanyi; the boy, carrying the musician, walked into the Ghost Market.

The Lord of Eternal Night clapped his hands; the musician's face turned deathly pale, extremely weak.

Both hands severed at the wrists—even Li Guanyi had stimulated the acupoints with internal Qi, yet such massive wounds still bled relentlessly; a middle-aged man stepped forward quickly, clad in black robes, hair half-white, eyes dull, glanced once, then casually pulled out two needles.

He inserted the needles at the Chi Ze, Tian Fu, Xia Bai, and Kong Zui acupoints.

Chi Ze and Tian Fu relieve elbow and arm cramping pain.

Xia Bai stops rapid heartbeat and surging blood-Qi; Kong Zui stops loss of voice.

Thus, the musician, who had just turned deathly pale and could barely speak, suddenly gasped deeply, gradually regaining some sound, and the bleeding slowly ceased; the man in black frowned and looked at Li Guanyi: "What is it?"

Li Guanyi recounted the previous events.

The man's face twisted into a sneer: "Noble families don't treat people as people—only as two-legged sheep, or birds in their palms—and yet you serve such people? Truly, your brain is broken."

The musician whispered: "... Mr. is right."

The man's tongue was cruel; he extended his hand impatiently: "Hand it over."

Li Guanyi passed him the box from his chest.

The middle-aged man opened it, glanced once, then threw the contents down: "No saving it."

Li Guanyi said: "Mr., when I severed this hand, I shielded it with internal Qi the whole time—it shouldn't have deteriorated this badly." He had even used the Golden Core Qi condensed from the Ten Thousand Ancient Moon Imperishable Body; this palm still retained some warmth.

The middle-aged man saw the agitation in his brow and said: "How unusual."

"You seem to come from a place that values human life highly."

"True, you're right—this hand still has vitality. Theoretically, it could be reattached. But what a pity, what a pity..." The man reached out and pressed the skin of the hand; it still rebounded: "The one who severed this hand cut away a layer of bone and meridians at the wrist."

"For neatness, for aesthetics—the bone stumps were treated with alchemist's fluid. Look, the fracture surfaces have already turned to jade-like stone. Hmph—you're too late. In time, the entire hand-bone will turn white as jade, the blood sealed within, leaving only faint crimson stains like jade dyed with blood."

Even Li Guanyi's temperament sent a chill down his spine, followed by a surge of rage.

"Can't Mr. save it at all?"

The middle-aged man said coldly: "You're too naive."

"Do you wonder why I know so much?"

Li Guanyi saw in the man's eyes a glow similar to that of Master Siming—the same aftereffect of agony and numbness after struggle; the man said calmly: "I've seen too many such things. Noble families expend immense effort on these matters."

"How to make hands look beautiful—by taking the hands of truly talented people."

"How to preserve the blood."

"And—"

He looked at the pale-faced girl musician: "They cut off your hand right before your eyes, didn't they? Hmph—the Gu physician's theory holds that when a person is terrified, their heart instinctively trembles, causing tendons, skin, and bones to involuntarily tense and contract."

"Only then does the severed palm remain taut, the skin smooth and pristine."

"Hey—it's no different from eating monkey brains alive, flaying donkeys alive, or steaming crabs alive in boiling water."

Li Guanyi gripped his sword, listening as the physician spoke of these things in a numb, mocking tone.

The boy said: "Truly, there's no hope?"

The middle-aged man, Elder Guan Shier, said: "I didn't say it couldn't be saved—I only said it can't be reattached. But this pair of hands must be discarded. Girl, don't look—this isn't your hand anymore." He stood beside her, blocking her view with his body, then pulled out a box.

Inside were various woods, radiating Qi; he sifted through them carefully:

"Too bad—the severed wrist had its meridians and bones cut away. My medical skill cannot reunite your wrist. Only three in this world can cure such a condition—the Buddhist physicians' headquarters lie within the Yinming Ghost Market."

"The Medical Ghost has vanished somewhere, and his tastes are bizarre and violent; rumor says when he was young, his sect was entangled in a great affair and wiped out by the Sword Madman, hence his twisted nature."

"And the last one?"

Elder Guan Shier paused, then said: "He can even revive the dead."

"But he appears and vanishes like a divine dragon—only known for always wearing a green robe."

"His morality is unknown, whether meeting him brings good or ill—he is the most unpredictable among the Four Legendary Masters of Martial Dao."

The Green Robe Guest?!

Li Guanyi recalled the letter left by Hou Zhongyu's teacher.

The one who drove Hou Zhongyu's scribe mad seemed to be the Green Robe Guest; the things the Green Robe Guest discussed with that old alchemist in one night had taken Hou Zhongyu's teacher sixty years to cleanse the malevolence from, transforming it into the Ten Thousand Ancient Moon Imperishable Body.

Legendary Masters of Martial Dao...

Li Guanyi looked at the pale-faced, hollow-eyed musician; he crouched low, bringing his gaze level with hers, and said: "Don't worry—the physician said it can be saved. You'll get better."

The musician's eyes held no light.

Li Guanyi said: "By the way, the music you just played—though beautiful—still lacked something." The musician's dim eyes flickered faintly; she saw the boy sitting cross-legged beside her, then drew his sword and placed it on his knees.

The boy tapped his fingers on the sword, his other hand drummed his knees; his voice mimicked bird calls, yet followed the rhythm of her melody—equally elegant, equally beautiful—then suddenly shifted, from the refined grace of Jiangnan to a grander, freer spirit.

Like a breeze sweeping across Jiangnan, then reaching Kunlun, carrying the bone-deep chill of a thousand-year ice falling upon the world; the musician listened, entranced, her eyes regaining some luster as she gazed at the boy.

Li Guanyi smiled: "How about it? When you recover, I'll teach you."

The musician looked at the young wandering swordsman; she opened her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

Yet she laughed through sobs, whispering softly:

"People like you... don't live long..."

Suddenly, a loud cry rang out: "Done!" Li Guanyi turned; the middle-aged physician stood up, pulling wood from the box and swiftly crafting a wooden mechanical hand, identical to the girl musician's; Li Guanyi froze: "Mo Family mechanism?!"

"You're not a physician?"

Elder Guan Shier said: "When did I say I was a physician?"

"I am a disciple of the Mo Family. Girl, your hands can't be used anymore—but luckily, I still have materials originally meant for forging weapons and treasures—this material allows internal Qi to flow through it. Theoretically, if you align your meridians, you can control the hand with your Qi as you cultivate."

"Then, not only can you replicate normal movements—you can achieve even more wondrous feats."

"Play the qin like sword Qi, flick your fingers like divine arts."

The musician paused; longing flickered in her eyes—but then that last spark vanished.

This thing must be very expensive.

She looked at Li Guanyi, tilting her head up, holding back tears, then whispered softly: "Young Master…"

"I don't like it here. Let's go."

"My current wrist is fine—I don't want wood growing out of it."

Li Guanyi understood the shift in her gaze, but Elder Guan Shier cursed loudly: "Bullshit! You're just worried you can't afford to pay, and don't want to drag this kid into trouble, so you pretend you don't want your hand?!"

"What kind of twisted thing is this? When did I say I wanted you to pay?"

The musician fell silent; she said: "But why?"

Elder Guan Shier said calmly: "Because I am a Mohist."

These six words seemed enough to answer everything—the weight of them was immense.

Elder Guan Shier said: "If a Mohist turns away from someone dying, is he still a Mohist?"

"Universal non-aggression, universal love—these are not empty words."

"Enough with the reasons. Give me your hand!" He seized the musician's hand and attempted to link the mechanism to her meridians and internal Qi using Mohist secret arts.

Li Guanyi exhaled slowly. He sat there, placing his sword beside him, staring blankly at the heavy rain falling outside the Ghost Market, lost in thought—he knew he could never serve any Son of Heaven or Wang Hou; those seasoned monarchs were fundamentally different from him.

Li Guanyi saw evil in the wanton plundering of others.

But he realized this was not great evil.

People like Jiang Gao viewed others as entirely different creatures—this went beyond good and evil. When two such types lack power or fortune, it's fine; but once both possess the spirit of heroes, they cannot coexist.

The rain grew heavier.

Inside the Crown Prince of Ying's palace, Jiang Gao was reviewing Juan Sect records when someone knocked. Jiang Gao lifted his gaze and saw a tall figure outside. He dismissed his attendants, rose, and opened the door himself—the rain parted naturally as Yuwen Lie stood outside, holding a bamboo umbrella, clad in a white robe, expression calm.

"General Yuwen. Please come in."

Jiang Gao's expression was gentle, as if he had expected his arrival; he invited Yuwen Lie inside.

Jiang Gao had asked Yuwen Lie earlier whether he would attend—he had refused.

"He won't relax when he sees me, Your Highness," said the world's famed general, dressed in plain cloth, arms crossed: "Besides, there's a clash of wills between him and me. Your casual conversation with him is no place for me."

"If the matter succeeds, you may host a banquet and invite me—then I'll drink with him until we're both drunk. At that point, you can still show him favor. Why rush this moment?"

Jiang Gao poured tea for Yuwen Lie and said: "Today I saw that Li Guanyi is truly a rare talent of the world. Though only fifteen, he carries himself with grace and restraint. Give him ten more years, and he'll be capable of standing alone on the battlefield."

"Even today, he claims to have no great ambition—but I have seen it."

"His ambition is vast."

"Also, I must apologize to you, General."

Jiang Gao said: "Today I did not keep him, and I signaled your intent to kill him."

Yuwen Lie gave no reply, speaking coolly: "After all, you are Crown Prince. I already guessed you might do this." He lifted his tea: "Also, the Second Prince has left shadows near you—he told me everything you did today."

Jiang Gao smiled: "Ah Yuan is still the same."

"My younger brother is unruly. Thank you for informing me."

He bowed.

Yuwen Lie said: "You don't seem worried I might turn to the Second Prince because of this."

Jiang Gao replied gently: "Only the grand and upright path is the way of a sovereign."

"So, a great general who has shattered nations and conquered cities—will he choose to stand beside a man who can be honest even with a destined enemy? Or will he follow one who betrays even his own elder brother?"

Yuwen Lie looked at the gentle Crown Prince before him.

The heir of the Central Kingdoms could never be merely a mild gentleman.

He must walk the Way of Kings!

The Way of Kings is not about being a doormat.

Yuwen Lie smiled faintly:

"With your words, I can rest easy."

"Li Guanyi is a general's talent—but your magnanimity shines just as brightly, vast as the sun crossing the sky. The heroes of the world are not only him. As for the Second Prince… he misunderstood me. Yes, I had intent to kill Li Guanyi."

"But my intent to kill is for an enemy—this is an act of protecting the state."

"The Second Prince pretends he wants to kill Li Guanyi, but in truth, he seeks to 'kill' you. One who can be honest even with an opponent will not punish his meritorious subjects; one who betrays even his own blood brother cannot share prosperity."

"He lacks the bearing of a ruler."

Yuwen Lie sat upright, raised his teacup, listening to the rain fall, and said calmly:

"The Second Prince was born into wealth and privilege—no one opposes him; he acts with reckless arrogance."

"Yet he underestimates me, Yuwen Lie."

"He underestimates the heroes of the world."

The rain fell, gradually thinning. Elder Guan Shier spent the entire night—several hours—finally managing to craft the mechanical wrist and attached it to the young musician. Further procedures remained; the musician fell into deep sleep, and Elder Guan Shier said:

"This girl cannot stay here, nor can she follow you."

"Staying here means death. Following you means dooming you."

"We're leaving Jingcheng anyway. Why not take her with us?"

Li Guanyi said: "I trust the name of the Mohists."

Elder Guan Shier didn't care—he merely said: "We came here for two reasons: to deliver Zu Wenyuan, and to clear out the trash around this Ghost Market. You've done both. The Mohists don't want to linger in this land of nobles—we're leaving. Now with this girl, we must move faster."

"And now with this girl, the sooner the better."

Li Guanyi asked: "Where will you go next?"

Elder Guan Shier said: "The world is vast—there are suffering people everywhere. Mohist disciples wander everywhere. Where else would we go? Wherever there is oppression, wherever help is needed, wherever there is conquest and plunder—that's where the Mohists are."

"We're just mud-stained peasants—our strength is small, but whether we exist or not matters greatly."

"Under the Mo Juzi's sword, Mohists fear not death—only that the thieves of the state live on."

Before dawn on the second day, Li Guanyi met the Seventh Mo Juzi, whom he had seen before; his Golden Muscle and Jade Bone achievement had also benefited from this giant's aid, and the Seventh Mo Juzi, upon learning of Qu Guanshi's situation, immediately agreed.

Part of the Mohist group departed early; the rest went to rescue more people—those who wished to leave were allowed to go, those who wished to stay with the Mohists were welcome to remain; the Mohists were a prominent school of the world, but they did not take disciples like the Confucians, Daoists, or Buddhists.

The Mohists are like fire; wherever the firelight shines, flames will rise again.

The musician awoke, carried and placed upon an ox cart; she stared at her hands, lost in daze, then lifted her head and looked at the boy, believing he, the Young Master, would ask her to stay with him, to remain by his side.

The musician whispered:

"Once I have recovered my strength, I will surely find you—throughout this life and the next, I vow to serve you with my life…"

Li Guanyi looked at her, then smiled and said:

"Very well. I give you an order."

The musician looked at him.

The boy said: "Live well."

The musician froze, suddenly feeling heartache, tears falling, then said:

"Someone like you… truly won't live long…"

"Have you never considered that I might be a killer?"

Li Guanyi looked at her and said: "Extend your hand." The musician extended her hand—her palm was wood. Li Guanyi thought for a moment, then carved a flower into it with his dagger, making the wooden mechanical hand look more beautiful, and smiled:

"Then go. Go wherever you wish."

"What is your name?"

The musician said: "I have no name…"

Li Guanyi said: "Then choose one you like."

As the musician was taken aback, she saw the boy smile and say: "You think I won't live long? Good—coincidentally, I think so too. But I'll bet you this: death can be lighter than a feather, or heavier than Taishan. Even if Li Guanyi dies young, he will never be a mediocre man."

"Li Guanyi, even if he lives only ten years, will make those who live a hundred years feel ashamed."

"If you don't believe me, a hundred years from now, when your hair is white, ask the children by the roadside if they know Li Guanyi—then let's make a bet, how about it?"

The boy laughed, looking triumphant.

The musician nodded seriously, accepting the vow to "live well."

The group led by the Seventh Mo Juzi carried her far away. The boy rose, his eyes narrowing slightly, then turned back toward the Ghost Market—and saw Qu Guanshi still there. This man was the leader of the following group; Li Guanyi suddenly remembered that though he was a Mohist, he was also a famed physician of the Ghost Market.

"By the way, Elder, your medical skill is excellent—do you recognize this?"

Li Guanyi reached into his robe and pulled out a small vial—the poison blood he had forced from his heart and stored. Qu Guanshi glanced at it, his eyes freezing, and said: "Where did you get this?!"

Li Guanyi simply said: "Found by chance…"

"Chance?"

"The kind that kills people, isn't it?" Qu Guanshi sneered. "Even though it's been forced from your body, my eyes don't lie."

"This substance doesn't exist in Chen State. The lands of Jiangnan have no poison this fierce."

"Only the head of the Imperial Secret Guard of Ying State may use this."

"Top-tier secret poison!"

Li Guanyi's pupils contracted slightly.

Ying State's imperial house…

?? For a friend, I'm recommending a book: I've Logged Into the Primordial Chaos in the Immortal Realm