Chapter 231: The Master Jiankuang Draws His Sword—Divine Weapon No. 97!

At the Central State Academy, a go stone landed on the board with a crisp sound.

Black and white stones clashed like dragons and tigers fighting, yet the player of the black stones was exceedingly venomous, striking with ruthless ferocity, seizing every advantage step by step, while the player of the white stones moved with majestic grandeur, each move vast and imposing.

"Wen He, your style has grown even more ruthless."

Wen Lingjun's voice was gentle.

Wen He replied: "It's just a game of go—winning and losing."

"But didn't you say you were going to the capital of Ying State to take office? Why haven't you left these past months?"

Wen Lingjun said: "Aren't you the same? You said you'd return to the Western Regions, yet you haven't gone."

Wen He pinched a stone between his fingers, unconcerned, and said directly: "No need for pretense between you and me—something major is about to happen. The entire academy is talking about it: the Son of Heaven's inspection tour, absent for nearly three hundred years."

"As students raised since childhood on tales of the Red Emperor, you and I—this is a chance we simply must witness."

As he placed a stone, the expression on the face of the gentle gentleman across from him grew impossibly complex.

They were close classmates, and Wen He's words pierced straight into Wen Lingjun's heart.

He drove it in, then calmly twisted it further.

Indeed, the Central State Academy was not far from the Emperor's palace; news trickled down layer by layer, making this place the frontline for gossip on the greatest affairs of the realm.

The Fire Qilin swept across the Jiangnan region with the force of an autumn gale, crushing all resistance.

With just ten thousand troops, he repelled the combined armies of Ying and Chen, numbering a hundred thousand.

At sixteen, he was enfeoffed as a marquis.

When the Emperor's edict announcing the Son of Heaven's inspection tour arrived, the news sent the academy's students—studying the teachings of the Hundred Schools—into a fever of excitement, their hearts surging day and night with talk of it.

But then, the Emperor of Ying also sent envoys, offering to participate in the Son of Heaven's inspection tour.

Immediately after, Emperor Chen Dingye of Chen sent envoys as well.

Thus, what had begun as an event in which the Central State Emperor sought to leverage Li Guanyi's power to wrest authority from the imperial elders, transformed into something heavier, grander, and quietly slipping beyond Emperor Ji Zichang's control.

Central State was about to witness an unprecedented event for the realm: the nominal sovereign of all under heaven, the heir of the Red Emperor's blood—Emperor Ji Zichang; the mighty Emperor of Ying, whose might swallowed ten thousand li like a tiger; the cold, brooding Emperor Chen Dingye of Chen; and the Fire Qilin, who had risen suddenly from Jiangnan with many famed generals under his command.

They would all converge in Central State.

This was a matter of immense consequence for the realm.

For the students of the Central State Academy, it was equally momentous—these learned heirs of the Hundred Schools had already glimpsed the signs of the world's upheaval, and sought to choose a wise lord to serve, to achieve glory and be remembered by posterity.

Quietly, some students were already calling this inspection tour a contest among four potential sovereigns.

Among the warlords vying for dominance in the Central Plains, only the Regent, now fighting in the Western Regions, and the Third Great General of the Realm—who held the lands beyond the passes and was the strongest among the warlords locked in civil strife—had not yet come. The latter seemed uninterested in the legitimacy of the Central Plains.

The Regent, an aging wolf, chased after time and years.

At this moment, his eyes held only battle and time.

The gathering of warlords in Central State bore a faint resemblance to the height of the Red Emperor's line—but any perceptive person could sense, in the very term "Four Sovereigns" whispered among them, a hint of fleeting afterglow, the sorrow of the sun setting behind the mountains.

For Wen Lingjun, whose family had endured the Red Emperor's grace for generations, this was a sigh worth uttering.

The gentle gentleman fell silent for a moment, then placed a stone, speaking slowly:

"You, Wen He, are not one to avoid spectacle—your reason for not going to the Western Regions now is simply that the Regent's assaults grow ever fiercer, the situation there shifts unpredictably, and no one knows when it might collapse; and—"

"The current Emperor, the Emperor of Ying, Emperor Chen Dingye, and the Fire Qilin—all gathering in Central State."

"It seems turbulent, but it is also the safest moment. After this event, thunder will shake the realm. Here, you can see the tide more clearly, so you may decide your course and preserve yourself, correct?"

Wen Lingjun laid bare Wen He's intentions outright.

The plain-faced youth replied: "Indeed. But you've misjudged one thing."

"I will go to the Western Regions, without fail."

"Gathering intelligence here first is the foundation of my first strategy."

"The Chen clans are in chaos, but only because the state is rich and the people poor—so the contradictions remain hidden."

"In Ying State, civil and military factions tear at each other, held in temporary peace only by the Emperor and the Fire Qilin."

"If I go to them, I won't end well."

"As for Li Guanyi—Yuan Zhi's nature is that of a free-spirited rogue. Since he joined Li Guanyi's ranks, Li Guanyi and he are a match. But unluckily, my style is utterly unlike Yuan Zhi's. Li Guanyi likely wouldn't want me."

"And I wouldn't want to join him."

"His character is too virtuous," said the plain-faced youth with a faint smile. "Too idealistic. Such men are like fire in a chaotic age—illuminating all around, yet drawing the first attack. This fellow will die a bad death."

"Getting too close to him might drag me down. If he truly has great fortune, he might live while I die—hardly worth it."

Wen Lingjun said gently: "You dislike such men?"

Wen He laughed. "No, no, no—you're wrong, Lingjun."

"I don't dislike them at all."

"Personally, I admire such men. But my admiration is the kind I feel from a safe distance, watching these heroes burn fiercely in the darkness of chaos. But if you ask me to join them? I respectfully decline."

"To make me join his ranks, you'd have to knock me unconscious and tie me up!"

"But Li Guanyi and the Fire Qilin's army are virtuous—he wouldn't do such a thing."

"Hahaha."

Wen He burst into laughter.

Wen Lingjun shook his head. After two more games ended in a draw, each winning one, he rose and left the courtyard. As he walked out, he heard students discussing the different factions; from afar, he saw the fierce light in their eyes.

Wen Lingjun heard: the Emperor of Ying was the top choice, the Emperor of Chen second.

But the third choice favored by the students was not the Central State Emperor, who held the great legitimacy of eight hundred years of Red Emperor's realm—but the Fire Qilin of Jiangnan. Wen Lingjun fell silent for a long while, then raised his head to gaze at the heavens and sighed deeply.

When had Li Guanyi become a warlord, a sovereign, such a figure?

He saw a notice posted beside the Military School's gate.

The Divine General List.

After the turmoil of the realm, the Divine General List of the First Tower had been updated, personally delivered by the guest advisor Tu Shengyuan—who now seemed to have shamelessly taken up permanent residence in the academy.

It seemed to be for the sake of the coming spectacle.

At this moment, he was staying in the Ming family's domain, mooching meals every day.

The Divine General List held strong appeal for students of the Imperial Academy, especially those of the Military School; even the new list had already been copied away, leaving the place now nearly empty.

Wen Lingjun stepped forward and stood before the new Divine General List, his gaze sweeping across it, taking in every name that had changed.

Type: Naval General / Mighty General

Name: Kou Yulie

Title: Wrathful Scale Dragon King

Troop Type: Ten thousand elite naval troops, with the Mo Family's highest-tier flagship, 【Eastern Azure Dragon】, alongside other warships forming a fleet.

Strength: Qizhongtian Sect Master Realm, Manifestation: Azure Water Jiao Dragon

Rank: Seventy-eight!

Affiliation: Jiangnan · Fire Qilin Army.

This was a newly ascended name on the Divine General List, and with his battlefield record—having defeated the former renowned general Zhao Guoqi—his title was immediately high; meanwhile, Ling Pingyang, who had barely scraped in at ninety-seventh, had risen to eighty-eighth through his recent performances.

Wen Lingjun spotted another familiar name.

Type: Strategic General.

Name: Yuan Zhi

Origin: Imperial Academy · Confucian School

Battle Record: 【Feng Hou's Marvelous Array, Eight Gates Golden Lock】, using ten thousand Fire Qilin troops to form an array and ultimately crush the armies of Chen, Ying, and six other renowned generals; exceptionally skilled in battle formations, his style is swift.

Rank: Fifty-seven!

Affiliation: Jiangnan · Fire Qilin Army

Wen Lingjun fell silent for a long while; for these young students of the Central Plains Imperial Academy, their former friends and elders had already stepped ahead into the world, stirring up storms and securing prominent positions on the Divine General List.

The triumphant energy of these acquaintances was the greatest driving force for the young; Wen Lingjun could already feel the entire academy's atmosphere growing restless, the young students of Gejiage Sects like prowling beasts, watching the world with eager eyes.

And now, after some time, a great lord of the world would arrive.

At that time, these young people would surely choose their own lord on their own initiative, needing no one to urge them—wouldn't they rush to offer their allegiance? And yet, this transformation of the academy and the world stemmed from just one person—

Wen Lingjun's gaze continued climbing upward.

He saw the middle section of the Divine General List and fell silent for a long while.

Name: Li Guanyi

Type: 【Vassal Lord】

General Rank: Forty-seven

Underling Generals: Pang Shuiyun, Ling Pingyang, Kou Yulie, Yuan Zhi

Honorific Title: Jiangnan Fire Qilin, the World's Qin Wu!

Wen Lingjun remained silent for a long while; he always felt that the man mooching meals at the Ming family's place carried a different weight for this young general's title—it seemed less crude, perhaps because his stature had become that of a true lord, and thus fundamentally different.

In just one short year, he had leapt from eighty-three to forty-seven—an astonishing leap, yet entirely reasonable given his battlefield record; if he continued to wage war and fight, Li Guanyi's rank on the Divine General List might yet rise further.

Hearing the students speak in excited yet restrained voices of the world's shifting tides, yet with an undercurrent of melancholy, Wen Lingjun said: "Prince Ji Yanzhong, when will you return? Is there still anyone in this age who can draw the Chi Xiao Sword?"

"Where is my true home, Wen Lingjun…?"

…………

"Achoo!"

Li Guanyi sneezed, frowned, and lifted his gaze; the letter to the Young Lady had long been sent, and the Jiangnan envoy delegation was now ready, led by Ling Pingyang—who had seen great scenes—with only five hundred iron cavalry.

The entourage was small: besides the envoys, only Yao Guang and Master Siming accompanied them.

And the Green Robe Master Jiankuang.

Even Aunt Murong Qiushui remained in Jiangnan's Murong Clan, overseeing affairs there; Pang Shuiyun, Yuan Zhi, Master Yan Daiqing, Kou Yulie, and others also stayed in Jiangnan, holding the situation and training troops simultaneously.

Yet there were several possible routes to the Central Plains, and finally, the Master Jiankuang chose one.

First, travel through Ying State, detour to Yuan Zhi's hometown to have Ling Pingyang personally lead troops to bring Yuan Zhi's mother and family back to Jiangnan, then return and rejoin the envoy delegation before heading to the Central Plains; while Li Guanyi, together with the Master Jiankuang, would briefly detach from the delegation to wander the Jianghu.

The two parties would reunite in the Central Plains.

Master Siming stared in disbelief.

As Ling Pingyang and the others prepared, the Green Robe Master Jiankuang finally told Li Guanyi the reason; the old man held a cup of tea, gazing far off in that direction, saying: "Jiang Su is there—in Ying State, the Grand Tutor, the world's number one general, and the martial legend you never knew."

"I've roughly figured out how your poison came about—Fei Xin blood. Few in Ying State can wield it. The Ying Emperor dislikes poison, but that old bastard Jiang Su has no scruples—he uses whatever tactic works."

"He harmed my granddaughter. Even if I can't settle this with a full fight this time—"

"I still must draw my sword."

"I said I'd cure your poison."

The Green Robe Master Jiankuang looked at Li Guanyi and smiled gently, ruffling the boy's hair: "But how could a swordsman cure poison like ordinary people—running to this healer, begging that one? Showing up, groveling like a servant?"

"Asking a Physician to cure poison is reasonable, but there is another way."

"A way that requires no begging."

The Green Robe Master Jiankuang whispered:

"We go straight to the Ying State Imperial Palace and demand it."

Master Siming choked on his tea, bursting into violent coughs.

He coughed until his face turned red.

He stared fixedly at the Master Jiankuang, his scalp prickling; this time, it wasn't just the Xuan Gui Manifestation wanting to flee—it was Master Siming himself who wanted to run, but Murong Longtu's gaze pinned him down, his legs numb, unable to move.

Damn it, I knew it, I knew it!

Master Siming felt his heart trembling inside.

How could I have let my guard down just because this old bastard had been in a good mood lately?! Murong Longtu is a man—a man nearing death, and one who once believed he'd lost all his direct bloodline, sealing his emotions and cutting off desire.

Such an elderly man, having found his lost child again, was deeply comforted, his heart at peace.

But he was also a sword madman.

The madman who had borne his wild reputation for two hundred years.

Such a man, such an old fellow, when he said he would take Li Guanyi into the Jianghu to cure the poison, how could I have honestly believed he truly meant to "cure" it—with what?

With an antidote!

Where is the antidote?

In the imperial palace of the State of Ying!

Oh, sword madman, could I perhaps not participate in this?

Is it still possible to withdraw now?

Master Siming saw a flicker of surprise on Li Guanyi's face, then watched the boy smile and say: "Wherever my great-grandfather goes, Guanyi will follow you!"

Thus the sword madman laughed heartily, his spirit soaring: "Good!"

The old sword madman led Li Guanyi through the Murong estate, showing him every place where Li Guanyi's mother had once lived, and finally brought him to the place where he himself had once secluded himself for cultivation—a grove of willows casting shade, a wooden sword resting there, untouched.

The wooden sword was crude, carved from a single block of rough timber with a stone.

Now its blade rested against the ground, propped upon a wooden post, surrounded by overgrown weeds; two birds played upon the hilt, in serene harmony. Li Guanyi asked curiously: "Is this sword my mother's?"

The green-robed sword madman gazed at the wooden sword, his expression gentle: "No. This sword was mine in my youth. Back then, the Murong family was nothing like it is now…" The sword madman sat down. Li Guanyi knew the Murong clan of old had been exterminated for forging divine weapons.

Murong Longtu stared at the wooden sword and said: "This was my first sword, made by my own hands. My father was a gentle man, with profound skill in forging swords, and purer still—he forged swords but never wielded them. He said, in such chaotic times, swordsmen die quickly, but swordsmiths do not."

"He believed that if the art of forging divine weapons and the power to wield them coexisted, it would draw the enmity of the entire world. Thus, to preserve the family by remaining weak was correct—but that was three hundred years ago."

"The world was fractured, the Red Emperor lineage's authority had faded, and the great clans rose."

"Because ministers refused to obey their sovereigns, establishing their own states, the order of the Jianghu collapsed as well. The rules my father had taken for granted were shattered. Our family nearly perished—I alone survived…"

"In my youth, my father forbade me from using steel swords he forged, so he beat me. Later, I sharpened stones and slowly chiseled the heartwood of a tree meant for firewood, shaping it into this sword."

"I was five years old then. Holding this wooden sword—only shaped like a sword—I felt I would surely become the greatest swordsman in the world."

"Later, I slaughtered the sword sects that had plundered the Murong clan and reclaimed our original blades. But in the Jianghu, chaos reigns—there are no rules. I killed them to reclaim my family's swords, yet those I killed had friends, had brothers."

"They called me a demon. They sought revenge for their friends and brothers by coming to kill me."

"In the end, I lifted my divine weapons and razed every sword sect in Jiangnan and the Central Plains."

"Sixty years passed… when I looked back, the sword Dao had been broken."

"I had wielded ninety-seven divine weapons."

"Yet since childhood, I had never held this sword again."

Murong Longtu gazed at the sword, watching the two birds groom each other. The blade held no sharpness at all. He smiled, rose, and patted Li Guanyi's shoulder. Murong Longtu had told Li Guanyi his past, as if shedding a heavy burden—his steps now calm and unhurried.

The next day, Li Guanyi and his party departed the Jiangnan city. Generals Ling Pingyang led five hundred heavy cavalry and five hundred light cavalry behind them, followed by logistical units—this was the proper retinue befitting a Qin Wu Hou, the force accompanying a Son of Heaven's inspection tour.

Heavy armor exuded grimness, battle robes billowed, and crimson Fire Qilin banners soared into the sky.

Only then did the minor and major clans of the city emerge to see them off. As Li Guanyi's party left the city, they heard the thunder of hooves behind them. The young boy tugged his reins, turned his head, and saw the clan youths galloping out—each strikingly martial.

Generals Ling Pingyang lifted his gaze; a hint of anger now glinted in his eyes.

Ignored on arrival, honored on departure—with such pomp? The implications were far too obvious.

His cavalry spear subtly leveled.

Among these elite of the clans were household guards, renowned scholars, and heroes—their networks and influence were terrifying. This was precisely why Li Guanyi found them so difficult to handle. The leader bowed slightly, holding a cup of wine: "The Jiangnan clans come to bid farewell to Qin Wu Hou."

"May Qin Wu Hou take care of his health."

Li Guanyi sighed.

First mass gatherings, then plague poisoning—now this covert show of force.

Clans… clans…

Many clans seemed to believe the heroic young general had finally given up; their postures relaxed, smiles forming as they murmured: "Drink this cup, General, and let us bury our past grievances."

It was an offer of peace.

But suddenly, the general reached out and pressed down on Generals Ling Pingyang's raised spear, saying:

"Pingyang, these are clans, scholars—you are a general. You must not alienate them."

The lead man smiled faintly—then suddenly saw the boy snatch up a war bow.

A single whistle of air—and the wine cup shattered instantly, wine splashed across the ground, the cup's handle tearing open the boy's palm. The bowstring sang as the youth laughed:

"I'm different. I'm the lord. I'll do as I please."

"I'm tired of playing your games…"

"You're not worthy to drink with me."

He tossed the war bow to Generals Ling Pingyang, gazing at those proud, outstanding, aristocratic youths—those who had formed the foundation of the past thousand years—and thought of their schemes: betraying cities, engineering plagues. He spoke slowly, word by word:

"You—all of you—I will never forgive, nor walk beside."

"Use whatever means you have. No more hiding. No more covert tricks hoping to claim some false legitimacy. You've probed long enough—planting spies in the Fire Qilin Army, doing this and that. If you want my answer—here it is."

The young general turned his horse before the Fire Qilin Army and said:

"Go!"

The clans had not expected the general's sudden ferocity—it clashed utterly with their plan of slow, subtle knives. The Fire Qilin soldiers slammed their weapons hard against the ground, their aura chillingly fierce, shouting in unison: "GO!!"

All were stunned.

The green-robed sword madman finally roared with laughter, turning to Master Siming: "He is my child."

He gazed at the young generation and laughed joyously: "Come!"

The sound of sword hums suddenly blazed loud.

Within the Jiangnan city, Murong clan sword qi surged into the heavens—countless divine weapons rose, forming pillars of sword qi, cold and tyrannical, vast as an ocean, engulfing the entire city, then slicing past the clansmen, their blades icy, freezing their bodies rigid, not daring to move.

Li Guanyi watched the sword qi surge into the sky, radiant and dazzling, and drew his Autumn Water sword.

Murong Qiushui's sword sang out, like a fish diving into the sea, flying into the weapon that churned the heavens and dimmed the four corners of the realm.

Elder Murong extended his hand, plucked a willow branch from his waist, and tossed it away carelessly.

He set down this willow branch, setting aside the 【Realm】 of the Sword Dao.

Then he 【lifted】 up the sword again.

One after another, famed swords hovered between heaven and earth, dimming all things.

On this day, the Master Jiankuang, nearing twilight, reentered the Jianghu.

Hand gripping the dark weapon—

Ninety-seven blades!