Chapter 262

The Master Jiankuang's voice fell, and the Chixiao Sword, still in its scabbard, plunged vertically into the ground one foot three inches; others saw nothing amiss, but Gongyang Su Wang burst into loud laughter: "You force the Chixiao Sword with the pinnacle of sword Dao, yet prattle here like an old fool!"

The Master Jiankuang, Murong Longtu, replied: "I do it to break through the barriers in your hearts."

"The Chixiao Sword itself is nothing special."

"What's powerful are the Red Emperor and the heroes of that generation."

"To abandon their achievements and place the world's hopes on this single sword—isn't that itself a great error? You, as heads of the Imperial Academy, should not let this one sword steal your inner composure."

Mo Xie Ju Zi and Su Yue Zhenren both felt a faint chill.

Their ages were far younger than Murong Longtu's; when this Master Jiankuang had drenched the martial world in blood and storm, the Mo Juzi was still struggling with faulty mechanical joints, and Su Yue Zhenren was copying the "Classic of Constant Clarity" by candlelight.

Thus the two heads rose and bowed.

"Thank you, Sword God, for your guidance."

Only Prince Ji Yanzhong rushed to the Chixiao Sword, gazing at the divine weapon with sorrow.

Murong Longtu accepted the bows from Mo Xie Ju Zi and Su Yue Zhenren and smiled: "You two were merely misled for a moment by legends you've heard since childhood. Even without me, you could have shattered the illusion yourselves."

Seeing Prince Ji Yanzhong's expression, the Master Jiankuang reached out and drew the Chixiao Sword.

The defiant Chixiao Sword now submitted utterly in the hands of the Sword Master, utterly unlike its earlier state; Murong Longtu placed it back in Prince Ji Yanzhong's hands and said: "It's just a sword."

"Why do you value it so?"

Prince Ji Yanzhong answered instinctively: "The eight-hundred-year glory of the Central Plains imperial clan rests upon it."

Murong Longtu said: "If the glory of the Red Emperor's lineage must rest entirely on this sword—"

"Then the Red Emperor's lineage might as well perish in peace."

Prince Ji Yanzhong was stunned and enraged, yet also felt a helpless sensation—as if his long-avoided truth had been pierced by a blade-like remark. Murong Longtu said: "If the Red Emperor had won the world solely through this sword, he would not have been remembered for eight hundred years."

"If holding this sword could bring peace to the world, there would have been no siege of the Red Emperor of five hundred years ago by the Tujue, requiring the Shenjiang of the Xue family to rescue him; if holding this sword could guarantee heavenly mandate and popular support, there would have been no tragedy of Ji Chengfeng three hundred years ago, and Chen Wu Di could never have founded this dynasty."

"Put down this sword, and only then can you reclaim what truly matters to you."

Murong Longtu's words, like sword blades, cleaved through Prince Ji Yanzhong's evasion of reality.

Murong Longtu said: "Rest assured, this sword has suffered no damage. I merely hope you can strip away the legend of the Chixiao Sword and judge Guanyi fairly."

The old man placed his hand on Li Guanyi's shoulder, his face wearing the familiar smile of an elder praising his own child: "Even without the Chixiao Sword, Li Guanyi is an extraordinary man."

"Isn't he?"

Gongyang Su Wang said: "Of course."

"Then, what you just said—was it merely to make us discard the legend of the Chixiao Sword and evaluate Guanyi solely on his own spirit and talent?"

Murong Longtu laughed triumphantly: "Of course… not!"

"If you're willing to listen to reason, all the better. If not, old man here has sword logic to share with you."

"The distance from here to the Central Plains Imperial Academy isn't long."

"Let my child accompany me properly through this final stretch."

Gongyang Su Wang froze slightly; he studied Murong Longtu and sensed something in his words. Instinctively, he gripped his sword hilt tightly—then slowly released it, whispering:

"Fine."

"Then we shall return to the Academy and wait quietly for you, grandfather and grandson. Also, Yuwen Lie knows of the Chixiao Sword's master—so changing our views is useless."

"This news will eventually spread across the world."

Murong Longtu simply replied: "No matter."

Originally, Gongyang Su Wang and the other Academy heads had planned to take Li Guanyi back to the Central Plains Imperial Academy together. After the Master Jiankuang Murong Longtu interrupted them, Gongyang Su Wang, Mo Xie Ju Zi, Su Yue Zhenren, and Li Guanyi bid farewell, preparing to return to the Academy ahead of schedule.

Before leaving, Gongyang Su Wang remembered to warn the Fire Qilin.

"You must come, little one."

The only Confucian scholar still bold enough to call the Master Jiankuang a fool rubbed the Fire Qilin's head: "I see you as a jade-like gentleman—perfect for the Academy."

The Fire Qilin's head instinctively lifted.

Gongyang Su Wang's smile was warm and rich: "Besides, you're now the only one left in this world besides the old Qilin in the Academy—you are His only kin, just like your ancient ancestor."

"Just like Murong Longtu and Li Guanyi."

"How do you think Murong Longtu treats Li Guanyi? Very well, yes?"

"Then you'll know how the Fire Qilin will treat you."

The Fire Qilin lifted its head high, tail swaying, remembering the delicious fruit, licking its lips: "Will there be fruit to eat in the Academy?"

Gongyang Su Wang's smile was warm and rich:

"Mm."

"In the Academy, you'll have fine fruit to eat."

The Fire Qilin was overjoyed.

Mo Xie Ju Zi couldn't help but say to Su Yue Zhenren: "Gongyang Su Wang is a Confucian—why is he so slyly manipulative?"

Su Yue Zhenren replied coolly: "In Confucianism, this is the Spring and Autumn style."

Mo Xie Ju Zi fell silent, then chuckled.

Hou Zhongyu's ancestral master, the aged sorcerer, had already accepted death—but because Zhang Ziyong's vitality had returned to heaven and earth, his own life-force was sustained, and he lived on, though he had long lost the will to live.

Yet after chatting with Li Guanyi for an hour, Li Guanyi's casual remark—"If you die, no one will remember your disciple"—left the old sorcerer silent for a long while, then he sighed.

He chose to accompany Gongsun Wuyue and others on a brief journey to the south.

"You're right…"

"After I die, who will remember that child?"

The aged sorcerer smiled faintly, complex and deep, deciding to preserve his lineage, to grow old slowly, to meet his end gradually—though the sorcerer lineage was not orthodox martial cultivation, and finding disciples was difficult.

So Li Guanyi picked up his brush and wrote the old man a letter of recommendation.

It was meant originally for Yan Daiqing.

But Li Guanyi thought for a moment and wrote this letter to the Seven Old Ghosts of the Fire Qilin Army.

As for this old sorcerer's background, it was truly legendary.

In his introduction, Li Guanyi used a method that could instantly ignite the Seven Old Ghosts.

"This elder is Hou Zhongyu's ancestral master."

Then he carefully folded it and handed it to the aged sorcerer, saying, "Elder, go in peace. After arriving in Jiangnan, you will have disciples eager to inherit your teachings."

He watched the old sorcerer depart, thinking.

I hope the elder won't be frightened.

After Li Guanyi resolved these matters, Master Jiankuang personally hosted a banquet, using the remaining fine wine of the Gongsun Clan, inviting Gongyang Su Wang and others to drink and chat before their departure. After Li Guanyi toasted, he stepped back voluntarily.

The Gongsun Clan had mostly departed; even Wang Mingyi, the man who only said "no, no," had returned to his own family. The main hall of the Gongsun Clan stood atop a mountain like a stone pillar, now looking strangely empty.

Li Guanyi searched for a long time and spotted the silver-haired figure.

Since yesterday, when that "big brother" suddenly fled as if sunk, Yao Guang had shown emotional shifts—even though her face remained as expressionless as ever, Li Guanyi could sense her mood.

Li Guanyi saw Yao Guang sitting quietly on the steps, watching the evening wind and the stars of the night sky. He thought for a moment, reached out, lifted Fire Qilin, and sent Fire Qilin away first, then slowly walked behind the girl.

The steps further ahead of the main hall had shattered, replaced by a sheer cliff formed by violent qi tearing through the air. Night wind churned beneath this cliff, and the girl, dressed in a simple sorcerer's robe, sat hugging her knees there.

Her hood was removed; silver hair fluttered in the wind.

Silver starlight fell upon the girl's shoulders, making her look slender and lonely. Li Guanyi watched silently, then walked slowly toward her.

A pastry suddenly dangled down, swaying before Yao Guang.

The silver-haired girl's gaze dropped, following the pastry—and there stood a young man in a blue Daoist robe beside a remaining pillar, bending over with a smile, his finger curled, internal qi forming threads that tethered the pastry.

Such an extraordinary method of controlling internal qi was being used for such a trivial thing.

Yao Guang's eyes grew still, then withdrew. Her face showed no ripple, yet her voice was calm: "You've come."

Li Guanyi saw the pastry tactic had failed.

He awkwardly retracted the pastry, flicked his wrist with a perfectly natural motion, and tossed it toward Fire Qilin. Fire Qilin didn't care—it devoured it happily.

Li Guanyi's movement was light and agile; he landed beside Yao Guang, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield's ruins. Wind rose from far below, brushing Yao Guang's hair past Li Guanyi's side. Everything was quiet.

After a while.

Li Guanyi said: "Is it because 'Uncle Ye'?"

Yao Guang hummed in agreement.

Li Guanyi had noticed the silver hair of the Fishhook Whaleman, so similar to Yao Guang's, during his final escape. He had fought his way through countless battles—he was no fool. From Yao Guang's reactions and fragments of his drunken memories, he had already guessed something.

He turned to look at the girl who had endured dangers beside him for over a year. Yao Guang sat quietly, gazing into the distance. On that exquisitely composed face, which seemed forever devoid of emotion, Li Guanyi clearly saw sorrow.

Yao Guang's eyes fixed on the horizon, and she spoke voluntarily: "I'm sorry."

Li Guanyi said: "What?"

The silver-haired girl looked at Li Guanyi, her voice calm:

"I may not be able to accompany you to toast Elder Master Jiankuang."

"This violates our agreement—the pact between the Yao Guang lineage and the Bai Hu Da Zong."

"So, I'm sorry."

Li Guanyi looked at Yao Guang.

Li Guanyi suddenly felt that deep within this girl lay constant fear—her cold detachment, the trust forged through shared life-and-death experiences, yet also the scar-like terror left by her childhood.

Li Guanyi stood up. Yao Guang saw the boy step in front of her, then suddenly lower himself in a full bow, the Daoist's blue robe sweeping down. The young man, his black hair bound by a wooden pin, knelt on his left knee so his gaze aligned with Yao Guang's.

Then he extended his right hand, gently saying: "Will you give me your hand?"

"Don't worry—it'll be over soon."

It was like their first meeting.

The silver-haired girl was puzzled, but still extended her hand: "If it is your request."

Li Guanyi extended both hands—those palms that had gripped battle halberds and fought across this world—closed gently around the girl's small hand. He lowered his gaze silently. Yao Guang asked: "Do you also know the Starwatching School's maxim?"

"No, I don't."

Li Guanyi replied: "People on this land fear loneliness. I think companionship will quiet your heart." This was what Yao Guang had said to him when they first met, when he first trusted her.

Back then, Li Guanyi had personally executed deserters, and Yao Guang had soothed his heart this way. The silver-haired girl clearly remembered. She gazed at the boy before her. Li Guanyi said:

"I won't ask you about Uncle Ye. Tell me when you're ready."

"But remember this."

"No matter who you are, no matter what your past was—just as you've always been beside me, I will be beside you. That's how it should be."

The silver-haired girl spoke calmly:

"Even if I am parentless, burdened with a blood feud deeper than the sea?"

Li Guanyi lifted his face, smiling with the boldness of youth, and replied: "Then do you need a partner who can help you carve through that blood feud?"

The silver-haired girl sat quietly.

She gave no reaction.

The young hero, as Yao Guang herself had once said and done in their meeting, spoke those same words: "I will accompany you through the greatest flight the world has ever known."

"This is…"

Beneath the light of stars and moon, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Yao Guang's face—clearer than moonlight, yet gone in an instant.

Her hand clasped the boy's palm in return, then she lowered her head.

The silver-haired girl gently pressed her forehead against Li Guanyi's.

Silver strands and black hair fell together, entwined.

This was how a Starwatching sorceress expressed emotion—through reason and restraint.

She replied:

"Fated pact."

………………

The news of the Lord of Chixiao Sword appearing in the sky spread like wildfire, and Chen Dingye knew of it.

Ye Buyi and Zhou Liuying were both outside the camp; they were merely junior officers, not qualified to enter and pay homage to Emperor Chen to hear of this great matter, yet even they could sense the oppressive atmosphere within.

The civil and military ministers accompanying him were all flustered.

Chen Dingye would surely fly into a rage.

He would rage like a mad beast, smashing every precious antique porcelain to pieces, then blame every civil and military minister.

Zhou Liuying thought this, and the time spent kneeling in military salute had grown too long—his body had stiffened—but since no roar of imperial fury came from within, he dared not move his body amid the chaotic clatter of breaking objects.

But he did not hear a furious roar; instead, only a slow, drawn-out breath reached him: "The Lord of Chixiao Sword?"

"You all are truly pitiful."

Zhou Liuying froze. Then the gate to this temporary stop on the journey to Zhongzhou opened, and Emperor Chen stepped out, gripping his sword. The officials inside knelt and trembled, so Ye Buyi and Zhou Liuying lowered their heads. Chen Dingye regarded these two young warlords.

He sighed deeply: "If we had believed in the lingering aura of the Red Emperor's sword, my ancestors should never have rebelled. If we believed the divine weapons of past monarchs could still control this realm, I should have brought my own head to kneel before the Emperor."

"We are all traitors under the Red Emperor's rule. If you still cling to the name of the Chixiao Sword, go kill your entire families, then kneel before the Red Emperor in Zhongzhou's grand hall and beg his spirit in heaven to forgive you!"

All civil and military officials turned pale.

Chen Dingye looked at Ye Buyi and Zhou Liuying and said: "You two, walk with me." Zhou Liuying and Ye Buyi exchanged glances, both bowed in assent, and followed Chen Dingye as they walked along the riverbank to an open stretch.

Chen Dingye gazed into the distance and said: "What a magnificent realm."

"Great Chen has stood for three hundred years. Is it not laughable to speak now of how terrifying the Lord of Chixiao Sword was?"

"You two were sent back by Li Guanyi, weren't you?"

Chen Dingye's words caused Ye Buyi and Zhou Liuying to flinch.

Chen Dingye said: "Do not fear. Your Wu Gong Third Heaven is decent for your age—but Li Guanyi's methods, I understand better than you. You are no match for him."

Zhou Liuying and Ye Buyi watched the Emperor's back—his sleeves fluttering, hand resting on a sword with a bright yellow scabbard. The Emperor said: "What do you think of me?"

Zhou Liuying said: "Your servant dares not speak."

Ye Buyi said: "Your Majesty, grant the people relief and let Great Chen rest and recover!"

"Grow the nation, strengthen the army!"

Zhou Liuying's forehead twitched.

Chen Dingye laughed loudly, pointing at Zhou Liuying:

"Hahahaha, good—you're saying I'm suspicious and quick to anger."

Then he pointed at Ye Buyi:

"You—you say I'm extravagant, the aristocrats run rampant, yet the common folk suffer in poverty."

"You're right."

Zhou Liuying and Ye Buyi froze. Chen Dingye extended his hand, staring at his palm, and said softly: "I am a man without compassion, without law, without restraint."

"Merely a beast of this chaotic age."

"Yet you all serve under this beast of mine. Alas, what a pity."

Chen Dingye paced away, returned to the camp, drew his sword, and shattered the scroll containing intelligence on the Lord of Chixiao Sword along with the desk: "Anyone who spreads this tale and stirs unrest shall meet the same fate as this desk."

"Promote Ye Buyi to Acting Fourth-Rank General of Xuanwu, concurrently serving as Commandant of Night Galloping Cavalry."

"Promote Zhou Liuying to Acting Fifth-Rank Guerrilla General, concurrently serving as Commandant."

"Reappoint Lu Youxian as Grand General."

Chen Dingye gazed into the distance.

He suddenly laughed: "A beast of chaos should gallop across this realm, racing until death. Who among the heroes of this world will take this fine head?"

He leaned back against the chair, hand resting on his sword, and said softly:

"The Lord of Chixiao Sword—Qin Wu of Jiangnan, Wan Xiang of Ying, the Regent of the Western Regions, the Khan of the Desert."

"I…"

"I wait for you—"

"To kill each other."

………………

Yuwen Lie informed Jiang Wanxiang of the Lord of Chixiao Sword's appearance. The Emperor of Ying sat alone in his deep palace, striking a set of bronze bells with an iron tool. The sound was slow, mournful, solemn, and deadly. Upon hearing Yuwen Lie's report, he merely said: "The Lord of Chixiao Sword?"

"At this point, what more is there to say?"

Jiang Wanxiang struck the bells, the sound vast and mournful:

"At sixteen, he seized Jiangnan, commanding fifty thousand helmets."

"Ennobled as marquis, appointed as general, his spirit swallowed the world."

"Is Li Guanyi not weightier than the name of the Lord of Chixiao Sword?!"

"Only the vulgar and the scholars are bound by the past."

"Does the world forget that heroes give glory to divine weapons and bloodlines—not bloodlines and divine weapons that make heroes?"

"To carry forward and open new paths is what we must do. Do not speak of the Lord of Chixiao Sword—even if the Red Emperor himself returned, would we not raise our spears and challenge him across this realm?"

Jiang Wanxiang struck the bells, unhurried:

"Since you've come, play with me."

Yuwen Lie answered: "Yes!"

In Zhongzhou.

Ji Zichang learned of the rumors of the Chixiao Sword: when Prince Ji Yanzhong entered Zhongzhou, the Chixiao Sword suddenly roared like a dragon, then soared into the sky, vanishing toward the distant horizon.

Ji Zichang's hand trembled slightly: "Has the Lord of Chixiao Sword emerged?"

His teeth bit into his lip, drawing blood:

"Li Guanyi, will you too become my enemy?"

The hero's spirit suddenly sagged, replaced by panic and dread; he gripped his sword as the officials and masters before him clamored in chaos, so much so that Emperor Ji Zichang grew weary and agitated.

Some demanded checks and balances, others called for the Crimson Emperor's Edict, some urged mobilization against Chen State, others permitted regional forces to rally to the throne, still others proposed summoning the deposed Regent Chen Fubì of Chen State to Zhongzhou and allowing all local officials to arm themselves…

Emperor Ji Zichang was exhausted and furious.

Suddenly he drew his sword; its chime rang clear and sharp, instantly drowning out the noise. An elderly royal with white hair sought to rebuke this young monarch—but the king, in his thirties, brought his blade down and slashed the white-haired elder instead.

Blood splattered across the Golden Throne Hall.

The royal elders who had just been shouting now stared at the risen Emperor, silenced in terrifying stillness; crimson drops fell one by one onto the hall's floor, twisting like a crimson dragon.

Ji Zichang, once thought a puppet, weak, now gazed coldly and furiously at his uncles and great-uncles, slowly exhaled a cloud of foul breath, and said: "Enough."

"The legend of the Crimson Emperor has endured eight hundred years."

"All things under heaven perish; our Zhongzhou has languished for three full centuries. Even if it ends in my generation, it would not be strange."

"But!"

"Our ancestors, with nothing but humble strength and a three-foot sword, seized all under heaven."

"Even if the Crimson Emperor's line must end, even so, its finale must not be a farce."

"It must be sword and fire!"

The young monarch gripped his bloodied sword and slowly sheathed it; beneath his twelve-beaded crown, his eyes lifted slightly at the corners, gazing like a dragon upon the royal elders: "Gentlemen, withdraw."

Long after, a low voice echoed:

"... As Your Majesty commands."

In the seventh month of Tianqi Year Eleven, summer burned hot; the martial legends had fallen, the wars in Jiangnan ended, Chen State and Ying State both withdrew to recuperate. From Zhongzhou, the four directions seemed calm, the fighting now confined to the western lands beyond imperial reach.

This vast realm of the Crimson Emperor knew no war.

The Son of Heaven's hunting expedition was about to begin.

All four directions at peace—

The realm was tranquil.

Li Guanyi, Yao Guang, and the Sword Mad Elder Murong saw off several Palace Masters of the Academy and set out for Zhongzhou; thirty li behind them, a silver-haired man trailed silently.

"That boy Li Guanyi is close to Yao Guang."

"I heard he's going to the Academy—he must hope to win its support, but his foundation is weak, his connections there still shallow. With this gift in hand, I can still make it work."

"Give it to Li Guanyi, and I'll win his favor."

The Whale Fisher held a "gift."

Bound with hemp rope: an old man with white hair.

The Academy's Grand Master of Arraying.

Siming!

Siming was furious—when the silver-haired man and Siming spotted a figure passing ahead: disheveled white hair, seated on a black tortoise drifting slowly through the sky—it was Master Siming, left behind for his inferior lightness skill.

Master Siming glanced unconsciously.

Their eyes met.

"???"

"?!"

?? Control my schedule, scratch my head—if I really need to take a break, I'll announce it in a separate chapter ahead of time. Today's delay was unexpected; I can't wait until update time to say I'm taking a day off.