Chapter 593: Epilogue · The God of Wealth and the Beggar Spirit (Final)

Epilogue · The God of Wealth and the Beggar Spirit (Final)

“Is this… the Emperor of Qin?”

Xie Ziran froze slightly, then realized who this outsider youth was—her eyes widened, and she instinctively moved to open the door, but in the next instant, a figure suddenly darted out.

Nangong Wumeng pressed both hands against the Daoist temple’s gate and shoved it shut with all her strength.

Face flushed, stammering: “Y-y-y-y-you!”

“What are you doing here?!”

“W-what are you challenging me to? Whose hand in marriage are you after?!”

“Who, who’s even proposing marriage?!”

Before Li Guanyi appeared, when those martial artists came, brandishing swords and spears, shouting and brawling, Nangong Wumeng sat lazily on the high-backed chair, utterly unmoved.

She had naturally broken through to the Dao Master realm.

The several Primordial ones within the Daoist Academy would often drop by just to sit idly, trying to coax her back into the Academy as one of the next generation’s Daoist Abbesses—but they’d been turned away time and again.

If asked, Nangong Wumeng would remain calm and say: “The Dao is tranquil and harmonious, naturally free and unbound—why would it need an Abbess? If someone truly deserves to be the Daoist Abbess, their insight into the Dao must be extraordinary.”

“But if one’s insight into the Dao is truly extraordinary, how could they care about empty titles?”

Ziyang Zhenren fell silent.

“The head of the Academy still holds great prestige.”

Nangong Wumeng lifted a cup of tea and smiled:

“I possess three treasures: first, compassion; second, frugality; third, daring not to be first under heaven.”

Thus, the two Daoist Primordials could only depart in disappointment.

Just as Xie Ziran began to feel a touch of respect for her teacher, the woman spat out the scalding tea in her mouth and asked if that was why she refused to go—Nangong Wumeng looked at Xie Ziran with the expression of a fool of a disciple.

“Of course it’s because I’m lazy.”

“Foolish disciple.”

She possessed a Dao heart forged in the vast, bloody battlefields, with immense real combat experience, wielding the divine weapon, the Yin-Yang Wheel of Transformation.

Ordinary martial artists of the Eighth Layer could hardly best Nangong Wumeng—and those Eighth Layer masters were seasoned veterans; even if their own skills were unremarkable, their perception and discernment were sharp.

Nangong Wumeng, the Yin-Yang Wheel Master?

The most beautiful woman under heaven?

An elder from Jiangnan kicked his nephew on the backside as the boy tried to sneak down the mountain to witness this grand martial event, shouting: “Damn Tu Shengyuan, who doesn’t know this girl is the next Daoist Abbess and the Emperor of Qin’s lifelong companion?!”

“Are you trying to betray your own kind, digging pits for the martial world, planning to lure every last martial artist into the trap so the Qin iron cavalry can crush them left and right into paste?! Tu Shengyuan, may your sons be born without anuses!!”

“Pah!”

“You heartless bastard.”

“Damn it, go sit with Yan Daqing from the Western Regions!”

Some sects with long histories and Eighth Layer masters stationed within them took this whole affair as Tu Shengyuan’s scheme, concocted for the Emperor of Qin, to wipe out all martial sects in one stroke.

Not a single one showed up.

Though the crowd here was numerous, together they still couldn’t match Nangong Wumeng’s strength—she simply lazily ignored them all, still gazing up at the clouds in the sky.

Until that wooden sword appeared, until its sword qi shook the four directions—then she froze, instantly appearing at the gate from her reclining chair, pressing both hands hard against the door, face flushed.

Li Guanyi’s lips twitched.

“What are you doing?!”

Nangong Wumeng’s lips trembled: “I—I didn’t know!”

“Then open the door!”

“I won’t!”

Li Guanyi laughed bitterly—only Nangong Wumeng had remained unchanged since the beginning. Even he, on his path forward, had gradually grown more composed—but she was still the same.

Nangong Wumeng stammered:

“Anyway, I—I’ll… you just don’t come in yet.”

“I—I need to calm down!”

“Just give me a moment to calm down, then I’ll come find you, truly, truly, Your Majesty.”

Li Guanyi suddenly smiled: “Lei Laomeng returned and said you refused to come because you were sulking—that you’d traveled far and wide for me, and whether for public or private reasons, I should have come here personally to invite you back.”

Huh???

Nangong Wumeng was struck as if by lightning.

She suddenly recalled the final moment Lei Laomeng left—bowing with a smile—and realized she’d been tricked. Even if that man had grown fat, even if his hair had turned white, even if he now looked like a seasoned politician—

But Lei Laomeng was still Lei Laomeng.

The cunning bastard who boasted about placing his own tablet above the ancestral founder’s of the Beast Taming Manor, who proudly assembled the Strange Beast Legion!

The original member of the Qilin Army, famed as the all-capable Lei Laomeng.

“That bastard!!!”

Nangong Wumeng gritted her teeth.

Smoke nearly rose from her head as she shoved the door shut—why? She didn’t know herself, only that her instinct was to flee. Suddenly, she remembered childhood: her master had found her by the river, smiling softly, sorrowfully, with worry, whispering her name.

“Don’t dream, protect yourself.”

“Run, run…”

“The martial world is dangerous.”

So she’d always been used to avoiding things—but this time, she couldn’t escape, because the Emperor of Qin had cleverly jammed his foot into the door’s crack and shouldered against it.

“Hey, what are you hiding from?!”

Li Guanyi leaned in, peering inside—Nangong Wumeng’s eyes widened, just as she had as a child, instinctively retreating under pressure, wanting to evade, wanting to postpone this crucial decision until later.

She stepped back—but Xie Ziran suddenly understood.

She blinked, tossed the broom aside, took two steps to Nangong Wumeng’s back, pressed both hands hard against her teacher’s waist, and pushed forward: “Teacher, don’t run away!”

Nangong Wumeng said: “I wasn’t running!”

Xie Ziran asked: “Then where are your bags and packages?”

Nangong Wumeng froze. Li Guanyi stepped forward—his wooden sword sang like a dragon. Nangong Wumeng tried to retreat, but in the next instant, Li Guanyi’s hand shot out and seized her wrist.

A warm, powerful grip tightened.

Li Guanyi stepped half a pace forward, entering this small world—the Daoist temple fell silent, petals and leaves drifted down from the trees. Nangong Wumeng stumbled backward, her gaze fixed on the Emperor, who still looked like the young swordsman who’d once stormed into dragon dens and tiger lairs.

He had entered her world.

Li Guanyi walked into the temple, his hair slightly stirred by the breeze, their breaths nearly touching—Nangong Wumeng was backed into a corner. Li Guanyi gripped the wooden sword, bending slightly.

Only now did Nangong Wumeng realize how time had changed them.

The boy she’d first met was now a head taller than her; as he bent, his sleeves fluttered in the wind, carrying a faint, mountain-like pressure—her heart pounded hard.

Li Guanyi said: “So, challenge me.”

“I beg you.”

Li Guanyi swung his wooden sword—the wind swirled, the trees trembled, petals and leaves spun and fell. Xie Ziran’s eyes widened as she saw the wooden blade sweep across.

The sword qi stirred the wind, swirling the falling petals—the wooden sword now rested horizontally before Xie Ziran’s eyes, blocking her view. Then Li Guanyi bent slightly, leaving Nangong Wumeng no room to escape.

Their lips met.

Nangong Wumeng’s face flushed crimson, sweat dampened the strands near her forehead, wisps of white vapor rose—her eyes lost focus, dazed, as if deep within her, the frightened little girl who’d always hidden away now heard the sound of something shattering.

If there had been a young swordsman like this back then, shouldering a sword and barging through the door so boldly, wouldn’t she have loved him?

Li Guanyi exhaled, looking at Nangong Wumeng:

“Come back.”

Nangong Wumeng opened her mouth to speak.

Li Guanyi said: “No refusal.”

“No talking.”

“No excuses.”

Li Guanyi and Nangong Wumeng had known each other too long—over a decade. He knew her reactions too well. Her heart was hidden, evasive; unless pushed to the limit, she would never reveal the truth.

Li Guanyi asked: “One question—will you come with me?”

Nangong Wumeng’s face flushed.

She took a deep breath, whispering like a mosquito: “Yes.”

Li Guanyi released her hand. The woman stepped back two paces, her face delicate and beautiful. She brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear—even with the disguise mask, her beauty was clear. Nangong Wumeng looked at Li Guanyi, clasped her hands together, and whispered:

“I… really like you too.”

“Little one, but…”

The Yin-Yang qi suddenly shifted—Nangong Wumeng leapt into the air, using her divine skill, enhanced by her weapon, soaring away at incredible speed: “But to catch me, you’d better not dream it!”

“I swear I’ll be gone only a short while—I’ll give you my answer soon. And yes, I really like you—no lies!”

Xie Ziran’s expression slowly hardened.

She suddenly realized her teacher was a coward who fled at the critical moment.

This woman was a beautiful waste! Damn it!

Xie Ziran gritted her teeth, but saw the Emperor of Qin wasn’t the least anxious—he even seemed amused, watching her. Li Guanyi looked past Xie Ziran and saw a white tiger spirit form shaking its head.

‘…A new White Tiger Mandate, but not the aura of slaughter.’

‘The essence of Gengjin, the Regulator of Metal?’

“Nangong really is someone anyone can pick up.”

Xie Ziran froze, then saw a faint smile on Li Guanyi’s face, and the next moment heard his teacher’s voice from the sky.

“Eeeh!!!”

In the sky, the nine-colored divine deer’s radiance spread outward; Gong Nong Wumeng’s smug expression froze. The next instant, Li Guanyi soared into the air and wrapped his arms around Gong Nong Wumeng’s waist.

Gong Nong Wumeng’s face flushed crimson. She looked at Li Guanyi, who smiled gently at her, raised an eyebrow, his youthful spirit brimming: “You think we’ve known each other for how long?”

He slung the fellow over his shoulder and smiled:

“Let’s go home!”

Gong Nong Wumeng thrashed her limbs: “Emperor Qin is kidnapping a common girl! Don’t you care about your reputation!!”

Li Guanyi said: “Trading Emperor Qin’s spotless name for you is worth it.”

“Going home means our wedding—you’re stuck with me for life.”

Gong Nong Wumeng mumbled, then heard Li Guanyi’s soft laugh: “But Li Guanyi could, from time to time, take Gong Nong Wumeng out on a journey through the Jianghu.”

Gong Nong Wumeng stopped struggling, slumped against Li Guanyi’s shoulder, her face blazing red, her eyes shimmering. She clenched her fists and lightly tapped his back, muttering: “Damn it…”

Li Guanyi gripped the wooden sword Long Tu, drew a deep breath, and slashed—Long Wind swirled, and that day’s sword qi filled the entire Jianghu. Long Tu’s final sword invited the Jianghu to witness it together.

Li Guanyi’s sword invited the heroes of the Jianghu to share a cup of wedding wine.

Crimson clouds stretched endlessly.

To celebrate together.

(End)