Chapter 249

Hou Zhongyu?

So strong?

Li Guanyi heard that long list of titles and was startled; even when he saw the astonishing effects of Hou Zhongyu's prescriptions, he had already known this old alchemist was no ordinary man.

After all, Chen Dingye was suspicious by nature, and his elder brother and father before him each had their own strengths; Hou Zhongyu had held onto the title of Chen Kingdom's foremost alchemist across generations of emperors with wildly different temperaments, occupying the Fire Qilin Palace—this alone spoke volumes.

Alchemists excel in formulating prescriptions, strange arts, and grand arrays.

Their own cultivation realm means nothing.

But he had underestimated Hou Zhongyu all the same.

Had Hou Zhongyu not been caught off-guard by Li Guanyi's bond with the Fire Qilin and been overpowered by its fire, Li Guanyi might not have killed him; among the many foes he defeated and slain in Chen Kingdom, there were figures like the emperor's illegitimate son and the top-ten assassin Situ Deqing—people with both status and martial prowess.

Yet looking back now, Hou Zhongyu was the one with the highest value.

But Li Guanyi couldn't gauge the old alchemist's attitude toward Hou Zhongyu.

For a moment, he didn't know how to answer; the old alchemist turned the pill into liquid, handed it to Yao Guang, who judged it, then swallowed it in small sips—it seemed very bitter, and the girl's face stiffened slightly, yet she still drew a small breath.

She tilted her head slightly and swallowed the entire pill at once.

Li Guanyi said: "I have a certain connection with Hou Zhongyu."

The old alchemist looked at him and said: "Oh?"

"How deep?"

Li Guanyi replied calmly: "We are sworn brothers in life and death."

"But I respect Hou Zhongyu's teacher even more; I received a letter from his teacher, given to a friend, through Hou Zhongyu. Master, do you have paper and ink? I will write down this letter for you."

The alchemist fell silent and went to fetch paper and ink; Li Guanyi took a sugar pill from his sleeve and slipped it into Yao Guang's mouth; the girl shuddered slightly, then Li Guanyi smiled, picked up the brush, and wrote the letter he had memorized from Hou Zhongyu's belongings.

Li Guanyi's calligraphy and handwriting were personally tutored by Murong Qiushui.

He had no talent for it.

He could never become a master of his own style.

But copying handwriting was, of course, basic skill.

After writing down the letter from the unknown alchemist, Li Guanyi paused, then wrote a complex string of characters on another blank sheet in one breath, and handed both items to the alchemist, calmly saying:

"What I just wrote is the original letter from that elder; this one is the martial art mentioned in the letter."

"He stole your martial art and hid it within Chen Kingdom's imperial palace."

"After sixty years of effort, he finally purified and exhausted all the malevolence within this art, then combined it with the path of the Elixir of Immortality to create a martial art named the 'Ten Thousand Ages, Azure Moon Unextinguished Divine Body.'"

The alchemist fell silent and flipped through the letter.

He saw his disciple's words: "We alchemists are not of the Shiwaisan Sect, nor are we orthodox Daoist Xuan Sect; we walk the middle ground between good and evil, with only one taboo."

"Namely: do not overstep good, do not exhaust evil."

He then saw further:

"Pure good is the Dao; pure evil is a demon."

"We seek only one art, know one 'Stop,' understand one 'Enough.'"

These were words he had often spoken to his disciple; the old alchemist, in a daze, recalled how he had picked up the child from the chaos of war, taught him by hand, raised him from infancy—on that day of heavy rain, seeing a passerby, he kindly invited him in to shelter.

What followed was like a great dream.

When he awoke, his disciple was dead; his era had ended.

The alchemist fell silent for a long time, then saw the "Ten Thousand Ages, Azure Moon Unextinguished Body"—a martial art he had created in madness, combining the teachings of the Green Robe Immortal; the boy had spent sixty years purging its corruption.

They were master and disciple, yet their bond was like father and son.

The alchemist said: "You didn't have to write down this martial art."

Li Guanyi replied calmly: "That elder spent his entire life perfecting this art and preserved it carefully—he must have wished to apologize to you. I practiced this art and survived many great dangers; now I have the fortune to meet you."

"In this way, it is truly returning what belongs to you."

The alchemist traced the ink of the letter; Li Guanyi had imitated his disciple's handwriting. The old alchemist caressed the characters, feeling no grief, only a daze. He asked: "What became of my disciple?"

"I've only heard that the current heir of my lineage is called Hou Zhongyu; I haven't heard news of him in a long time."

Li Guanyi hesitated, then answered:

"He was slain by his own disciple."

"Hou Zhongyu was the orphan the elder rescued during a chaotic battle decades ago."

The old alchemist fell silent for a long time, then said: "Such is fate. What can I do?"

"I sense the scent of my lineage's Elixir of Immortality on you. You have this letter, this martial art, and the aura of the Elixir—if my guess is correct, Hou Zhongyu, that traitor, was killed by you."

"And you ate the Elixir of Immortality, didn't you?"

Li Guanyi exhaled and replied calmly: "It was a life-or-death struggle."

"If I had to do it again, I would still eat the Elixir of Immortality!"

The old alchemist smiled and said: "Bold."

Yet he did not cling to the Elixir of Immortality as Hou Zhongyu had.

He merely said: "You ate it? Then eat it… Elixir of Immortality, Elixir of Immortality—dead and reborn, what meaning is there?" The alchemist reached out and took the martial art scroll, saying: "Bring me the bamboo flute."

Li Guanyi picked up the bamboo flute and handed it to the old man; the old man took a strand of crimson thread and wound it once around the flute. Though the thread was crimson, it instantly glowed golden, densely patterned like talismans; the old man formed several hand seals.

Golden imprints appeared on the bamboo flute, then vanished.

The emerald bamboo flute, now bound with crimson thread, looked far more lively than before; the old alchemist's voice was hoarse: "Consider this repayment."

"You returned my disciple's martial art to me; I have left a seal upon this bamboo flute… A divine weapon must have a master. If this weapon of yours were left unattended, the Green Robe would easily find you. Now, as long as he doesn't come within a certain distance, he won't sense it."

"Young one, how is your injury?"

He looked at Yao Guang, who replied: "There is warmth now."

The alchemist said: "I've tangled with that Green Robe for a hundred years; he destroyed everything I had. I am no match for him—but long illness makes one a physician; I've gained some insight into his art and methods, though we merely counterbalance each other."

He said with a blank face, "The illness has been treated. In this rural place, we won't keep you."

Li Guanyi took his leave and left with Yao Guang; the two rode away for some distance, then turned back to see the humble village, where the sunset had nearly vanished, and frogs croaked in the pond. Both sighed in relief.

They never expected to meet such a reclusive person in this village.

Yao Guang's injuries had fully healed, and Li Guanyi felt at ease; moreover, the bamboo flute at his waist had been sealed with a method similar to that used on Chixiao Sword—this old alchemist had even sealed Chixiao Sword, universally recognized as the supreme divine weapon, so this bamboo flute was no issue.

Not only had Yao Guang's illness been cured, but an unexpected blessing had come as well.

Li Guanyi then took Yao Guang back to the Gongsun Clan, no further mention needed.

In the village, the old alchemist chopped firewood, drank tea, cooked meals—all as usual, with no emotional disturbance. But at night, rain suddenly fell, heavy and urgent, pattering against the eaves, sliding down into puddles.

The alchemist lit a lamp and repeatedly examined the letter. At first, he felt no pain; logically, he should have felt sorrow, yet his heart was merely numb—until he read one line of the letter.

"We seek only one art: to know the 'Stop,' to understand the 'Enough.'"

He could not help recalling that the very first words he had ever taught this disciple were these. Others might think them ordinary, but for him, they brought sorrow and confusion. He read them again and again, unaware that tears had fallen.

Only now did that immense, suffocating loneliness surge upon him.

This brilliant alchemist finally understood clearly.

The disciple who had trapped him was dead—killed by his own disciple's disciple.

And the reason his disciple took on that disciple's disciple was the same as why he himself had taken on his disciple—his complicated disciple had died, the enemy who killed him had perished at others' hands, and thus this lineage had no ancestor ahead and no successor behind.

The world was vast, yet he alone remained here, an old, lonely ruin.

Looking outward, the world was pitch black, stars scattered, vast and lonely enough to drive one mad. The old alchemist wept, thinking that if only he had not been kind enough to let that traveler stay that day, he would not have gone mad for a hundred years, his disciple would have taken on a better disciple's disciple.

He would have cultivated his alchemical arts in seclusion, refined pills, and died peacefully—instead of swallowing human blood, going mad like a demon, living for decades on raw flesh and blood, destined to die, yet strangely, inexplicably, coming back to life.

He stroked the disciple's letter, gritting his teeth: "Green Robe Immortal…"

"In these decades, I have learned how to destroy your cultivation base."

The alchemist kept the disciple's letter, but picked up the scroll recording the "Ten Thousand Ages, Unextinguished Moon Body," and set it ablaze. The flames reflected in the old alchemist's eyes: "I have no other desire but to survive in this world."

"I will kill you in this lifetime!!!"

"The dream of immortality must be severed by the lineage of alchemists who pursue eternal life."

"I will cut it off myself!"

…………………

Li Guanyi stayed at the Gongsun Clan for several more days, but for some reason, Master Siming and the Master Jiankuang never arrived. Li Guanyi had asked the Gongsun Clan's network to inquire about their whereabouts.

The information he received was unclear.

Master Siming's whereabouts were unknown, but in the Jianghu, it was widely rumored that a sword aura, similar to Murong Longtu's, was chasing a man in a green robe—cleaving mountains, severing rivers, fighting as he fled, no one knew where he had gone.

Li Guanyi regretted that his great-grandfather had not arrived in time.

But from these rumors, he could deduce that Murong Longtu was not at a disadvantage; instead, he had been relentlessly chasing the Green Robe Immortal, slashing away. Li Guanyi suspected that his great-grandfather's current sword aura was strong enough to defeat the Green Robe Immortal.

But it was hard to kill the fellow outright.

He could only continuously erode the opponent's vitality with sword aura.

The boy wondered: Could it be that after two hundred years of wandering the Jianghu, where anyone struck by his sword would collapse, he'd finally met someone who wouldn't die no matter how many times he cut—and now he was having fun, using the fellow as a sparring partner?

Holy shit? Can't kill him?

What about this sword strike?

Still can't kill him? Fine, fine, let's try again!

Using a martial legend as a training partner sounded absurd.

But for the Master Jiankuang Murong Longtu, it seemed perfectly reasonable.

Li Guanyi smirked. The Gongsun Clan and all other Jianghu families within a three-thousand-li radius were currently competing in martial contests, vying to select the new Wu Lin Alliance leader to confront the chaos of the world.

Gongsun Feixue was explaining this grand gathering to Li Guanyi:

"Why? To unite our fellow cultivators, form an alliance—only when our interests align can we stand firm in this chaotic age…" Gongsun Feixue had intended to briefly explain the turmoil of the world.

But seeing the young Daoist eating a pastry slowly, her voice trailed off. She suddenly felt it was pointless to tell this fellow about the storms of the Jianghu.

Among the hands that stirred this chaotic storm, one must belong to Qin Wu Hou Li Guanyi of Jiangnan.

He had personally destroyed the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect, a major power.

Only when she remembered that this fellow was desperately poor could she calm down slightly—so what if he ruled the world? So what if he dominated Jiangnan? He was still human at heart.

She held her teacup and said:

"In short, the affairs of the world cannot be explained in one breath."

Wan Mingyi said, "Not so, not so—if you don't explain clearly, how will the Daoist Li know the weight of the Wu Lin Alliance leader?"

Gongsun Feixue said, "Actually, one sentence can explain it clearly."

Wan Mingyi shook his head: "Not so, not so—one sentence won't do. I'd say at least ten are needed."

Gongsun Feixue grew angry, raised her teacup as if to throw it, and only then did Wan Mingyi grow quieter, changing the subject: "Strange—where has Gongye Baixu gone? I haven't seen him these past days."

Gongsun Feixue was also curious.

Gongye Baixu was a close friend who had arrived at the Gongsun Clan at the same time as Li Guanyi, yet these past days, no one had seen him. Gongsun Feixue said, "Perhaps he had family business and left in a hurry."

Gongsun Feixue said, "The Wu Lin Alliance leader has only one power: the ability to command all Jianghu forces within a three-thousand-li radius. The leader's orders, if reasonably justified, will be obeyed by these forces."

"Even if half the families disagree, the leader still has three chances to enforce a decision—all alliance forces must obey. Those who defy it are treated as traitors, and all alliance families may unite to attack them."

Li Guanyi, eating a pastry, said, "So the Wu Lin Alliance leader has great power."

Wan Mingyi said, "Indeed."

"That's why the Motian Sect wants to insert itself. They claim ten thousand disciples; if combined with the dozens of sects and factions within this three-thousand-li radius, they could command twenty thousand martial experts—all highly skilled warriors."

"With the Gongsun Clan's mechanical devices, the Sun Clan's medical texts, my Wan Clan's projectile techniques—many families possess unique arts. If all served under one leader, they could dominate the Jianghu."

"Even more, not just dominate the Jianghu—they might even carve out a share of the entire world."

Li Guanyi pondered, then picked up a melon and began eating it slowly.

Wan Mingyi grew disheartened and said, "It's infuriating that Ximen—he may be a lowly old man, but his Wu Gong is top-tier; our forces excel in all manner of Jianghu arts, yet fall short in internal Qi cultivation."

"Machinery and medicine can secure a place in the Jianghu."

"But they cannot stop a true martial artist."

Li Guanyi asked curiously, "If he truly defeats you all, will you really have to obey him?"

Wan Mingyi frowned and replied,

"Of course… it must be so!"

"If a Jianghu person refuses to accept defeat, what kind of person is he?"

"But the former Wu Lin Alliance leader also said: as long as anyone can stop the Motian Sect, all three thousand li of our families shall treat them with respect—as our honored guests—and if, in a moment of crisis, they drive back and defeat that man—"

"Whoever defeats him becomes the Wu Lin Alliance leader!"

"He may command all the Jianghu families within a three-thousand-li radius to serve him."

Li Guanyi, who had been listening with idle curiosity, froze.

Such boldness surprised even him.

So he took a bite of melon to calm himself.

Wan Mingyi sighed again, clenching his fist: "But what a pity, all the Master-level martial artists who might defeat him have gone to the Imperial Academy, preparing for the Master Jiankuang's battle. Otherwise, surely some martial artists would have stepped forward?"

"It's hard to say—the timing is too tight, and the matter came too suddenly."

"Our elders say: since we've lost to the Motian Sect, and now an outsider is to become Wu Lin Alliance leader, then let's just find an even stronger outsider—after all, we'll never submit to the Motian Sect."

"That old dog Ximen still thinks he can overpower us."

"Go eat shit!"

Wan Mingyi cursed loudly, then frowned suspiciously:

"But where is that boy Gongye Boxu? We can't find him anywhere."

"Could he have run away as a coward?"

Lady Gongsun Feixue said, "He probably wouldn't."

Wan Mingyi had no energy to care about such matters—he was merely sighing in frustration, troubled by the Motian Sect. Li Guanyi, however, fell into thought: the many families within this three-thousand-li region were not like Jianghu sects.

They were more like the Lady Gongsun Clan.

Not all Jianghu people are fighters; there are merchants, physicians, artisans—many cultivate superior Wu Gong through their crafts, take disciples, gather kin, and gradually become great or minor clans.

These Jianghu martial artists may not be skilled in combat, but each holds some extraordinary talent: the Lady Gongsun Clan's machinery, the Sun and Bian families' medicine, even music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

Li Guanyi grew slightly interested, his mind stirring.

He had no interest in becoming the Wu Lin Alliance leader here.

But if he could lend a hand, and then… cough, invite, invite some of these talents to join the Southern Jiangnan Fire Qilin Army, it wouldn't be a bad thing.

Li Guanyi had already forgotten the warning in Yan Daiqing's letter and his own earnest reply—he had only two days left before the local families began their contest for the Wu Lin Alliance leadership, when a Lady Gongsun Clan scout arrived.

He reported that a thousand troops from Chen State had drawn near. Lady Gongsun Wuyue met Li Guanyi and asked whether he wanted the clan's youths to take bows and crossbows and go out. Li Guanyi declined: "No need. Chen State sent troops, but hasn't yet torn open hostilities."

"If the Lady Gongsun Clan directly uses bows and crossbows against them, the consequences could be endless. Yes, Chen State is unreasonable—but Chen is a great nation, while the Lady Gongsun Clan is merely a local family. Circumstances overpower people; there's nothing to be done."

Lady Gongsun Feixue exclaimed in shock: "That's a thousand soldiers—armored troops! You're alone—how can you possibly handle it?"

Lady Gongsun Wuyue remained calm and asked: "Then what do you need?"

Li Guanyi bowed and smiled:

"One fast horse, a few zhang of cloth—that's enough."

"Ah, and if possible, prepare some sweets."

Lady Gongsun Wuyue studied him deeply, then agreed.

The female head of this Jianghu clan suddenly smiled: "If you can resolve this matter, I will immediately dispatch craftsmen to Jiangnan…"

"Thirty craftsmen."

Li Guanyi froze.

Lady Gongsun Wuyue smiled:

"Though I am a Jianghu woman, I still have grand ambition."

"You offer three things—so, putting myself in your shoes, the Lady Gongsun Clan must also show sincerity. Only then can this be the alliance you seek in these chaotic times, yes?"

Li Guanyi laughed heartily: "Thank you, Shiniang!"

Lady Gongsun Wuyue sighed and accepted the title.

Li Guanyi spoke calmly and cheerfully: "Please, Shiniang, summon all thirty craftsmen—they should be gathering by now. I'll be back shortly!"

Lady Gongsun Feixue brought a warhorse and, as Li Guanyi requested, brought some pastries. She was curious why the boy was eating these now—the pastries were still warm, steaming. Li Guanyi didn't take them, only said: "Please leave them here."

He leapt into the air, landed on the warhorse's back, tugged the reins, and the horse galloped wildly outward. The boy clamped his legs around the horse, leaned forward, and the silver-haired girl reached out—he reached back and pulled Yao Guang up onto the horse.

The girl sat before him. Li Guanyi laughed loudly: "Miss Lady Gongsun, set the pastries aside for now—they're not for me. My friend here is finally feeling better, and after this, he'll eat them."

Lady Gongsun Feixue said: "They'll go cold soon."

Li Guanyi replied: "It's summer—won't cool down."

The boy, on his galloping steed, spear in hand, rode alone toward the thousand soldiers.

There was a fierce, heroic spirit about him. Yao Guang turned her head slightly, her eyes filled with doubt—but she found nothing. Unnoticed by Li Guanyi and Yao Guang, a silver-haired man stood with his hands behind his back, watching the distant boy and girl.

He snorted, thought for a moment, and took a small step.

He merely followed them from afar:

"What big talk!"

"I'll go see what skill he really has!"

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